#it seems silly but i am so proud of me

[gothamstreetcat]

Thank you to my lovely internet pal @kyliafanfiction for proofing this for me! <3

mundane things (and a crossword puzzle)

The sun shines perfectly bright through the large window above Wesley’s bed - where he and Lilah have been fooling around for much of the morning. Their bodies are naked, their clothes decorating the floor of the bedroom in various heaps. Their nightly routine was bleeding further and further into the daytime. 

“I’m really late,” Lilah stresses, rubbing her nose gently against Wesley’s. He can tell by the tone of her voice that she isn’t too worried about missing her morning meeting. “And in my line of work, they won’t just give me a stern talking to.” She remains pressed against him regardless, keeping the sheets that are half covering them warm. He can feel her heart beating against his and every time it causes him to wonder if what’s happening between them is a little too real. If things have gone more beyond just having sex.

Wesley raises his eyebrows, bringing a hand up to trace the curves of her back. Holding her closer if it’s even possible, to convince her not to go away. “Well, if you’d like I could give you a stern talking to.” She laughs in such a tender way and he almost doesn’t register the flutter in his chest over the excitement of her squeal when he pinches her arse.

“You could but…” she removes her body from his and the air suddenly feels a little cold, even as she settles beside him - stretching her limbs. She brings her hand up to trace the scars on his chest and he wonders if her manicure shadowing imaginary patterns on his skin is her way of knowing what’s between them is real. “With that accent of yours? I think we both know where that leads.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” he remarks, tracing his fingers up her arm. His thumb outlines small circles against her shoulder and she closes her eyes. “I don’t suppose there ‘s any way I could convince you to stay?” The sound of his voice aches with something he can’t quite understand.

Lilah smiles as she leans in and kisses him gently. “Why? You missing me already?”

She pulls away from him after a beat or two and props her head up by her elbow. They stare into the other’s eyes for a second, then two, three and so on. Lilah looks deeply at him like she’s searching for the answer. Something about the eyes being the window to the soul or whatever. And normally, he’d be put off and uncomfortable by another person’s eyes drilling into his, but things feel different somehow with Lilah. He doesn’t feel as though he has to turn away or look past her for a moment of relief. Instead, he feels some type of pull, to reach over and trace the shape of her face. Run his thumb over her sharp jaw and into the dip of her chin. He imagines she would lean into him like a cat wanting to be petted. 

He knows she wants him to admit it, say the words out loud, that he wants her to stay. She wants to know what he’s really thinking inside that big brain of his. But the words remain stuck in his throat, unable to be articulated on his tongue that now feels thick. The feeling is painful, creating a burning sensation in his throat.

Lilah, somehow sensing this, bites her lip. She leans over the bed, her head disappearing out of view. After a few seconds of listening, Wesley knows she’s digging around in her pocketbook. A few moments later she reappears with her phone in her hand. 

“I’ll make you a deal,” she says looking at him with all too familiar mischievous eyes and a grin before crawling overtop him again. “I’ll stay, but you have to tell Gavin for me.” 

Wesley doesn’t even think much about it before taking the phone from her fingers. She already has several missed calls and voice messages from work that he imagines are not pleasant. Then again, he thinks no one would dare be daft enough to send Lilah a voicemail the least bit unpleasant. He sees Gavin in her recents and rings the number. 

The trill of the phone sounds only once before Gavin answers. By the look on Lilah’s face, it’s clear she can hear the panic in his voice over her absence and it pleases her in a wicked sort of way. 

Wesley hardly registers anything he says before cutting him off. “I’m sorry Gavin, but Lilah won’t be in today. She’s still in bed,” he says, “and I suspect she doesn’t plan to be  leavening anytime soon. She assures me though that you’ll be able to handle everything. Best of luck.”

He doesn’t bother hearing Gavin’s response before he closes the phone and tosses it to the side, not bothering to see where it lands. 

“Well done,” Lilah commends. 

He leans up and kisses her passionately, taking her in his arms as she squeals against his tight embrace. 

They spend another hour in bed followed by a twenty minute shower that Lilah assures is for the sake of not wasting water. 

Wesley emerges from the bathroom followed by a remnant of heat and steam from the shower. He’s running a towel through his hair which has grown a little longer in the past months, beginning to curl at the ends. He leans against the doorway as he watches Lilah, who has picked through his drawers for clothes. She’s wearing one of his old Watcher shirts - white and a little wrinkled - as she slides on a pair of his boxers. Half the buttons are undone and even without his glasses and the distance between them, he still gets a good look at her breasts.

She catches him watching her. “Don’t worry,” she winks. “You can wear mine.”

If I can find them , he thinks, his eyes scanning the floor that’s covered in various articles of clothing. Not all of them are from the night before.

It seems very natural for her. Comfortably picking through his drawers and pulling out his things. Making jokes, unashamed about what they’re doing. He wonders how long they’re going to keep up this charade. How long it’s going to last without trying to picture how it’s going to end. He wonders if things have gone too far and ultimately decides they probably have. They’ve been doing this for months and it’s undeniable that each day Lilah Morgan gets a little closer in his life. A little closer to his heart. 

She steps towards him with grace, kisses his cheek and pats him on the arse before swaying out of the room. He watches her every step and the view of her movement does things to his mind.  

When she’s gone he finds a pair of pants and a t-shirt that hasn’t been worn to hell. Even though he’s showered he can still smell faint traces of Lilah on his skin, his clothes, and in his room. He starts stripping the bed sheets. Sheets that smell so much like her. Lotion with the faint aroma of roses and Chanel perfume.

There is a blouse that smells just the same that she tucked into his pillow some time ago. He leaves it, taking just the pillow case instead and their dirty clothes. In the hallway he has a stacked washer and dryer that occupies its own cupboard and he throws everything in before starting it. 

When he’s done with the laundry he goes into the living room where he can hear Lilah cooking from the kitchen. It’s an open floor plan, the kitchen having its own little corner neighboring the dining table. He leans against the archway that semi-divides the kitchen from the rest of his flat. The room smells strongly of sausages and coffee. 

He watches Lilah as she stands over the stove tending to a pan of sausage and scrambled eggs. Bread was sticking out of the toaster, waiting to be toasted until they popped. There was some water boiling in a kettle and beside that, one of his tea pots and a cup. Coffee was dripping strongly from a machine Wesley once worried would no longer have any purpose to him, but Lilah seems to make good use of it. 

Lilah has made good use of everything in his life. 

A small smile forms on Wesley’s lips. 

He turns from her without a word. Goes to the front door and makes his way to the lobby where he finds the morning paper waiting outside for him. By the time he brings it up Lilah is setting the dining table he also thought would not get much attention. She walks back between the kitchen and table, bringing napkins, silverware, jam for the toast, some butter, salt and pepper shakers, her mug of coffee and his pot of tea. 

“Sit down,” she says, pouring his steeped Earl Grey into a cup. The way she says it makes it seem obvious: sit down because we’re going to eat breakfast like we do every morning. 

He takes his place at the head of the table, his mouth upturned in a smile of surprise.  Shortly after Lilah comes carrying two plates full of the prepared breakfast foods. 

“Thank you,” he says, setting the plastic wrapped paper aside. “It looks lovely.” 

For a moment he sits still, unsure how to proceed. They don't do this. He can’t even remember that last time he had breakfast - let alone a proper meal. And where the hell did the cloth napkins come from? It dawns on him Lilah might know his own apartment better then himself at this point. 

He watches Lilah spread jam on her toast and add salt to her eggs. She stops, stares at him. 

“Is something wrong?” she asks. “Do you not like eggs? Or eat sausage? Or, anything really,” she teases, “because I would believe that.”

“Lilah…” he wants to argue but he isn’t sure what to say. She’s not entirely wrong. 

“It’s just that I’ve never seen you eat anything…” she forks a bit of eggs into her mouth. “Well except…”

“Lilah…” he reaches over and touches her arm before she finishes saying something that is sure to make his face turn red. “It’s fine. I’m just…” he isn’t quite sure how to explain how ridiculously hard it is for him to function like a normal person. How, the last time he actually sat down and ate real food with people was now so far away and so tainted. “It’s lovely,” he repeats. 

“Well, “ she continues, “I just felt after the night we had we could probably use it.” She winks.

“Right,” he agrees, letting her go and picking up his fork. He mimics Lilah until he feels comfortable. A bite of eggs following a sip of coffee - her eyes staring longingly outside the window. 

They eat quietly. Their utensils scrape against the plates and their cups cause gentle sound waves to bounce off the wood of the table. They can hear the traffic from below. There was a faint ticking from one of the clocks somewhere in Wesley’s flat. 

Some time passes, and eventually Wesley removes the newspaper from its plastic wrap; waiting for Lilah to make some snarky comment about how no one gets the paper anymore. She doesn’t, but when he looks over she’s got a funny smile on her lips. She’s definitely making fun of him. 

He folds open the front page to Los Angeles’s latest upheaval. A headline about the capture of a mass serial killer the police had been tracking for weeks. He’s claiming “the devil made him do it,” and if Wesley hadn’t spent his entire life going against the forces of evil, he might have been cynical about it. Beside it, a column about a bus accident; one dead and five others injured. There was also a small column about Wolfram & Hart but Wesley only skimmed it.

Another column seemed somewhat promising, talking about the possibility of vampires being real, but the further Wesley read into the paragraphs the less interested he became. To think, he’d spent his entire life being a watcher and studying vampires, helping slayers and all for some hack who probably still lived in his father’s basement to be spreading misconceptions about vampires. 

At the bottom of the page there was a small ad for Angel Investigations which he barely glanced at. 

The following pages consisted of more deaths, - nothing he could blame in Lilah's employers - the latest sports news and local politics; and pictures of the newest Hollywood stars and movie reviews which he would pull out later for Lilah. There was a snippet about motorcycles and the dangers of riding them. How you should always wear a helmet and obey traffic laws - something Wesley both understood and respected. 

He folded the news up and put it back beside him, his eyes starting to strain. He picked up his tea, something that had been a long comfort for him. It’s still warm. 

He looked over at Lilah with her bare legs crossed, sipping her coffee and half a piece of toast still on her plate. 

“Nice view,” she motions her mug towards the window. He’s never really noticed it before. 

“Nice day,” he adds, spreading some strawberry jam onto his toast. “Fancy a ride later,” he takes a bite. It’s something Lilah’s been asking about for quite some time. 

“On your motorcycle?” 

“Mhm,” he takes a bite of his toast and follows it with hot tea. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Lilah with a huge smile on her face.

“Well Pip Pip and Cheerio for me!” she exclaims, tapping her spoon on the edge of her coffee mug. Wesley nearly chokes on his tea, the hot water coming down his chin and onto the table. He laughs harder than he has in such a long time. 

“Lilah,” he says, trying to get a hold of himself. She’s laughing too, no doubt a reaction to his own hysterics. He grabs her arm, “that is not what that means.”

“Well what does it mean,” she’s still grinning, the last bits of laughter bubbling from her throat. 

“It means “farewell”,” he corrects. 

She shrugs, an innocent mistake. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he remarks, turning his attention back to the paper, though he’s hardly thinking about the LA news now. 

“I’m ridiculous? I once saw a video of you pretending to be James Bond while doing the most absurd strip tease I've ever seen in my life. Sorry Pryce,” she said slightly mocking him but with a gentle smile, “secret’s out.”

Wesley nearly chokes on his tea again, his face flushed with shock that soon simmers into embarrassment. 

“Hey, no worries,” Lilah reassures him, patting his leg. “It was very entertaining.”

He gives her a polite smile against the panic he’s now wrestling with in his heart, remembering how embarrassing that video tape had been. It felt silly to still be embarrassed and ashamed of how he used to be - even though that man was dead now. He had been embarrassed of himself back then and felt to curse Angel ever so slightly under his breath before he remembered his betrayal. 

“Hope it wasn’t for your girlfriend. Virginia was it?” 

“And why’s that?” He asks, trying to regain some composure. 

She leans closer with a feline grin. “Because I like to pretend it was for me.” She pinches his thigh and something about the gesture makes him want to grab her hand and pull her into his lap even if he isn’t sure if she’s being genuine or not. 

Wanting to change the conversation, he flips through the paper for the crossword which he gently tears out for Lilah. It pleases her, which he knows because he’s caught her several times in the early hours of the morning curled up at his desk filling out the grey squares. 

She jumps from the table and goes to find a pen. There is a clattering in the kitchen and  seconds later she returns, beginning to fill the paper out with ease. Wesley knows anything relating to the law or TV shows and movies she knows in a snap.

There is more silence until seemingly out of nowhere Lilah reaches out to him. 

“Hey Wes,” her voice sounds like it’s aching with some sort of deep regret. “About all that stuff I said, about you being Judas Iscariot… I was just trying to get under your skin.”

Wesley smiles slightly and wonders if this is one of her tricks. He turns her hand over and runs his thumb back and forth along a faded scar. Almost as if his betrayal to Angel was a burden they both shared. “No,” he muses, “you were right. I betrayed Angel. I’m sure he would agree with you as well.”

“Still, you thought you were doing the right thing,” she says, repeating herself from a time before. 

“Seems to happen a lot doesn’t it?” He turns blankly to the paper, thinking about all those times he’d fucked up. The lines of ink just blur together and he starts to feel lightheaded. 

“What does?” Her fingers close against his thumb. 

“Me, thinking I’m doing the right thing but ultimately screwing everything up and being a failure.” There was a pause. Lilah was silent. “You’ll get used to it.” 

“I just don’t want you to torture yourself about it,” she squeezes his hand before pulling it away. “That’s all.”

Wesley raises one of his eyebrows at her. “I thought you liked a little torture,” he remarks. 

“Only if I’m the one doing it. Or Angel, depending…” She starts running one of her toes along his leg. No doubt trying to lull him back to their current affairs. “And you’ve never disappointed me.” She’s got a wicked grin on her face. The one Wesley finds himself drawn to. 

Wesley scoffs, pinching the paper down to look at her. “That’s only because I think you get more out of this than I do.” He knows she’s going to respond with something sexual, it’s their pattern. 

“This what?” she taunts, bringing both her long legs up and resting them comfortably on his lap. They have a bet going. Should one of them be foolish enough to call their relations together a relationship , would then own the other person a dollar. Lilah’s money was on Wesley to crack first.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he sets the paper down and runs his hand along her calf. 

“A relationship,” she answers. 

His hand stops at her knee and Wesley looks at her, stunned. 

“Another word for liaison,” she clarifies. “Nine down. Twelve letters,” She etches it into the paper, and Wesley throws her legs off of him. 

“ An illicit sexual one at that,” he mutters into his cup. 

There is more quiet between them. Wesley sipping his tea and Lilah her coffee - clicking the pen and tapping down words onto the newspaper clipping. When Wesley looks up from the photographed carnage he sees Lilah with her feet tucked up in the chair chewing the top of the pen and for a moment he thinks he likes this better than the sex. Just sitting here in almost complete silence, watching Lilah in the natural Los Angeles glow; her hair tucked neatly behind her ears and her diamond earrings gleaming in the sunlight. 

He smiles, perhaps without meaning to but he somehow can’t help it; and it takes only a second for Lilah to catch him. She stops chewing, stares, and instead of taunting him, smiles back. 

Screw it, he thinks. 

He reaches over and pulls Lilah’s chair a little closer to him before scooping her into his arms. She submits easily and without hesitation, complaints, or protests - throwing her arms around his neck. 

Wesley kisses her gently and passionately. It’s the only thing he knows. His mouth on hers, their tongues slow moving. He knows the feeling of her body relaxing into his, hearing the sound of the pen dropping and the comforting feel of her fingers in his hair. They could stay this way forever. 

But Lilah pulls away after a comfortable amount of time. She bites her lip and presses her forehead against Wesley’s. “You made me drop the pen.”

“Should we just go back to bed?” His eyes were closed. Lilah’s fingers were still mingling gently in his hair. He thinks he feels Lilah swaying them ever so slightly from side to side but he isn’t entirely sure.

“It depends,” she murmurs. “What’s a word for “as the best of its kind?” 

“Parexcelence,” he replies, opening his eyes. Lilah is smiling deeply at him. 

She gives him one final kiss before leaving him cold and retrieving the pen. When she returns she settles back onto his lap, back facing him. He settles his chin in the dip between her neck and shoulder as he watches her fill out the squares. His arms lay around her waist in a comfortable embrace.

His eyes scan the clues of the crossword. Eight down, the vampire slayer. He thinks of Buffy. The clue above it says, a woman who practices occult magic and he thinks of Willow, wondering if maybe The Powers are trying to tell him something. But then his eyes fall on nineteen across, author of the Divine Comedy . Lilah already has it filled in, no doubt, what prompted her earlier apology. 

She fills out twenty-two across while pressing her cheek into his. Manipulation of a sort. Mindgames. He wonders if that’s what they’re doing, but he figures you can still play those sorts of games while being affectionate with someone. Maybe even in love. 

After a few more minutes Lilah mostly has the puzzle filled out with the exception of one word. She pushes it away from them before he can get a good look at the final clue.

“Do you want to go see a movie today?” Lilah loves movies. Her hands reach for the paper and find the movie selections. The first one being the new Star Wars he was intending on seeing with Gunn, though, that obviously wasn’t going to be happening anymore. Even still, it’s the first movie Lilah suggests and Wesley’s glad her back is to him so she can’t see the conflict in his eyes.

Her finger runs under another movie title. “What about Signs? It’s got aliens in it, and I hear it’s supposed to be funny. Might even get you to laugh.”

He scowls at her but she doesn't see and they decide to go see the movie in the late afternoon/evening. Lilah tells him he’ll be driving - no doubt a ploy to get more time riding behind him without having to ask.

Lilah insists on doing the dishes while Wesley paces back and forth between putting things back in their respected place and wiping the table. He also pours the remaining coffee and tea into each of their cups before setting the pots over to Lilah to be washed. 

Lilah is humming as she washes. Her hands rubbing back and forth, deep in the soapy basin with the sleeves of his shirt rolled to her elbows. He isn’t quite sure of the tune but he knows it means she is relaxed. She once told him there was something about mundane chores at the end of a long night that put her at ease. Somehow doing the laundry or sweeping the floor after dealing with monsters and demons (literally and figuratively) all day made her feel normal. 

Wesley takes the towel rag and thwacks the tip against Lilah’s rear. She jumps with a gasp before rearing around and splashing him with hot, soapy water. The kitchen fills with laughter from both of them before simmering back into a comfortable quiet. Lilah finishes the dishes while Wesley switches the wash from the washer to dryer - putting the dial on the delicate setting for Lilah’s clothes.

After everything is put away and tidy they wander over to the couch with their second cups of tea and coffee. Wesley sits on the couch while Lilah settles herself beside him, feet tucked into the cushions and her under his arm. She’s got the crossword and pen bunched in her hand while he flips through images on the television. 

They settle on a horror movie from the 80’s. Catching the last ten seconds of A Nightmare on Elm Street , just as Freddy pulls Nancy’s mother through the window of her home. Embarrassingly, Wesley couldn’t originally figure out how Freddy pulled her though the window so fast until Lilah explained to him it was actually a blow-up doll. Not only did she appreciate its older visual effects, there was something about it just being a movie that leaned into the more normal feeling she mentioned earlier.

When Wesley sets the remote down, his eyes glance to the only book sitting on the coffee table. Dante’s Inferno - the copy Lilah bought him. The copy she signed on the inside with a red pen. Love, Lilah. It never meant anything to him before, but now there is something about the way he’s here in his flat, and so is Lilah - who blew off an important meeting to spend more time with him. And she made breakfast and washed the dishes. She tucked under his arm and he isn’t unhappy about it. The inscription never meant anything before but now he wonders if it does, if things have changed between them.

Lilah leans over, setting her empty coffee cup on the table. She skims the last word on her crossword. Four down. She fills it in with ease on his thigh. He catches a glimpse of it before she folds the paper into a tiny square and tucks it into the pocket of his shirt. She yawns and stretches herself, laying her head in Wesley’s lap. He sets his cup down on the table beside him and runs his fingers through her hair in gentle motions - thinking deeply about the last answer to her crossword. 

Two down. Four squares:

Tender and passionate affection. Taken from the definition: a profoundly tender, passionate affection, often mingled with sexual desire , for another person.

The answer was love.

[bonefall]

Heads up! There is going to be a very long and detailed post about making sausages dropping in a few hours.

It's got a big red content warning and a readmore, so nothing is going to get gruesomely dropped on you, but make sure you add "butchery" or "cw butchery" to your tag filters to be extra safe if the idea of processing animal carcasses is upsetting to you!

It also has an image of sausage casings before they're scraped. I tried to whack the post with as many CWs as I can think of but I'd recommend "cw meat" or "cw organs" if you need them.

[energonnaccinos]

Mini-Bang fic post tiiimeeee!!

Summary: Marissa is barred from work for the mundane reason of accruing too much unused holiday time, and Thundercracker offers the perfect way to help the time fly by: Take a road trip! Or an air trip, in this case. And sure, she might be devoted to her job, but touring the world and getting to hang out with her biggest, most metallic friend? Not something to miss out on. Bring on the sun, the fun, and the souvenir stickers! Category/Rating: Gen | Relationship: Marissa Faireborn & Thundercracker | Additional Tags: Road Trips, Comedy, Friendship, Vignette Collection, Slice of Life | Words: 11,178

Featuring the lovely art by @lemonomelette !

[yichens]

as a person who has been here since we only had the vv mock trailer, who witnessed jimmysea get their first public events to promo vice versa, who sat here through all the hate vv and jimmysea got back then, who had to witness all the shit going down, and now seeing ppl praise last twilight so much and love morkday so much is truly, Truly making me so emotional

[arsenicflame]

i do think being unconditionally loved is an experience that can be so so healing actually. it cant ever fix anything alone but to feel loved and valued and considered is something that makes carrying burdens just that little bit easier. to trust that youre someone they think about when youre not around, because they tell you. to feel like youre someone important to them because they tell you. to feel safe in knowing youre not being too intense, too annoying, too much, because everything you offer is offered right back without a seconds hesitation. this isnt something i ever thought id get to have, but i found it when i wasnt even looking. and no, it still isnt easy. it doesn't change most things. but it gives you a reason to try.

[midnight-rice]

screenshotting your tags Pav because they made me ;_;

my favorite emotion is when someone does something kinda foolish and all you can say is “i love you” in response

[kavehayati]

If I had a genie and could make one wish I’d wish that romantic relationships and anything to do with falling in love would be completely eradicated from existence. Not only is it gross and weird, but it’s also fundamentally an issue, like you can’t tell me it’s anything feasible to yearn for or believe in when so many crimes hardships and negativity stems as a by product of love. I wish everyone was aroace and we sprout from the soil via mitosis but somehow we still have genetic variation bc it’s a unique sub section of mitosis where it’s a hybrid of mitosis and meiosis.

[narcissusneverknewme]

It's kinda funny but it makes me weirdly sad that my Dad doesn't care that I got my A.A.

I don't really care; I too, am not impressed at all, and I only got it as a side effect of getting my B.A. It arrived unexpectedly and without ceremony, so it didn't feel like much of anything... But it still made me sad when he just dismissed it immediately and moved on 😂

[spectrearia]

aaAAAAAAAAA IT HAPPENED!!! A PERFECT!!!

i was. literally shaking by the time I got to the end of this song haha i didn't think i'd ever actually get a perfect run omg i'm so happy 😭

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for being proud of my job as a regional Nightmare?

My sister told me she’s making her own post and that if I was so sure I wasn’t TA then I should make my own so here I am.

I’m a regional Nightmare. I’m very proud of how hard I worked to get here. Not many terrors in their 20s get this high up and it’s because I do the work. I get up at 8pm and I’m out in the woods grinding out those quotas until dawn. Sometimes I sleep out there in my uniform just so I can be the first on scene for the multi-part jobs. I’m efficient, I’m punctual, and I’m committed. My goal is to be a Cyptid by the time I’m 30 and, to do that, I have to stay on at all times.

As a result, I work a lot. I’m often not home for days at a time. I have a very strict training regimen and my time for friends and family is virtually nonexistent. That’s why when I do get the time to hang out, I prefer to spend my time intentionally. What I mean by that is that I don’t want to sit on a couch when I could be lifting weights. I don’t want to chill in the pool when I could be volunteering for new scares. I especially don’t want to gossip over tea when I could be getting overtime.

Last Saturday, my sister invited a bunch of family over to her house. My job in the Virginia woods fell through, so I decided to go. Silly (her childhood nickname) said she had something important to tell the family so I thought it wouldn’t be a waste of my time.

Key word: thought.

When I got to Silly’s house, I was surprised to see so many cars out front. Our parents were there and our older brother. The house was packed. There were cousins, aunts, uncles and a ton of people I didn’t know.

At first the event was fine. Silly’s always been a good cook (see, I know you’re reading this, Silly, and see? I do compliment you when do something actually good) and everyone was really enjoying the flank steak (though I did have to save it before she cooked it medium well). But as the day wore on, I could tell people were getting bored. Silly and Mom were focused on cleaning up and said that dessert would have to wait until her fiance got home. Which was kind of rude to be late and I felt really bad for Silly. It seems like my soon to be brother-in-law (BIL for short) is never around when she needs him.

In an effort to help, I engaged some of the people I didn’t know in conversation because the party was getting a little dead and I didn’t want one of my sister’s parties to fail. I was trying hard not to think about the time I was wasting waiting for my future BIL so it also served as a distraction.

It turns out one of the guys was a fellow terror. He worked a corporate job and we talked for a while about the pros of being freelance like me. He asked me a lot of questions and I was happy to mentor another terror.  Corporate can suck the art out of what we do. My clients only care if the quota for their mission is met and don’t enforce such strict timelines. They come to me for quality. Poor guy barely had time to mend his uniform between scares (his cloak was tattered and his hook hand was rusty) so I recommended my tailor and blacksmith.

The guy and I exchanged information. I gave him my business card and he looked for one of his. While he looked, I felt nature calling so I headed upstairs to use my sister’s bathroom (like hell I was going to use the same one as my Uncle Joe). From up there, I saw my future BIL pull into the driveway.

 Being a regional Nightmare is a tough job. Like I said, I have to train a lot to keep my certification. So I thought it’d be a good idea to get a scare on my BIL both to punish him for being late and to make up for all the time I’d already wasted at the party.

So I waited for him to come upstairs to change and, when he did, I pulled out the works. I darkened the room and fell back into the shadows. Then, while he groped for the light switch, I stretched out my leg (I have an extra joint in them) and tried to nudge him. I honestly didn’t expect for him to trip and I DEFINITELY didn’t expect for him to fall backwards. I’ve been practicing this skill on my family since I was sixteen and got the leg extension mod and none of them ever fell like that.

My future BIL fell down the stairs. I panicked and raced over to look over the banister. He was fine! He wasn’t bleeding or anything and, when I saw that, I started to laugh.

Everyone freaked out though. They all said I was being immature and bullying my BIL. I told them it wasn’t bullying, it was my actual job. I said that I was just joking and didn’t know my BIL, a former “Cryptid”, would take it so hard.

My mom jumped in and backed me up, but my sister has always been the Queen of the castle. Silly and Dad kicked me out ( I mean, I let them, I’ve got enhanced strength and I didn’t want to hurt them). Dad called me a disgrace and to not come back home.

I asked him if he was really kicking me out just because I wanted to show off my skills a little? And he said yes. And Silly said I had it coming to me for a long time.

I don’t even know what went wrong.

 So AITA for taking pride in my work?

---.

SillyCreeper says: Oh my god, you actually made this post? You’re an actual idiot. For anyone who believes this story, read mine before you vote. My brother left out a few details like how the party was my GENDER REVEAL PARTY and that he’s not a regional Nightmare, he’s a  Slasher for hire.

OP replies: I am TRAINED to operate as a regional Nightmare. That makes me an independent regional Nightmare.

SillyCreeper replies: Regional Nightmares don’t steal failed missions from corporate Slashers

OP replies: Get your own post, Silly

SillyCreeper: Oh, I already did. Have fun being torn apart on yours, dumbass.

-----

Thanks for reading! If you'd like to read Silly's AITA post a week early, please consider becoming a patron (X)!

Aita for going no contact with my brother after he pulled a Scare on my husband?

I'm working on this anthology during November and I'm having a blast with this story in particular! The family drama keeps going on and on

[bookshelf-dust]

relief

evan buckley x fem!reader

gif by @suledins

PSA IF YOU’RE A MINOR: GET THE FUCK OFF MY PORCH BEFORE I WHOOP YOUR ASS. THIS FIC IS STRICTLY 18+. I RESPECT YOUR BOUNDARIES, YOU RESPECT MINE.

word count: 6,568

warnings: nsfw 18+ only; swearing, inexperienced!reader, mentions of therapy/insecurities regarding inexperience, conversations about sex, heavy petting, fingering

synopsis: buck is a walking golden retriever. when he asks you out for the first time and begins to learn more about his arson-investigating coworker, it’s easy to say he puts that eagerness to use.

a/n: this is the very first smut fic i have EVER written (aside from some old old dirty nsfw headcanons). that being said, please bear with me, because this stuff is hard!! shoutout to all the wonderful writers who do this all the time because phew! 🤧 i am pretty happy with how this turned out, and i’m proud of myself for writing for a new character and trying something totally different from my norm! i had no plan of direction for this fic when i started it, but i hope the end result will resonate with some of you, and if it doesn’t, i still hope it gives you some good feelings and a little escape from this fuck ass world <33

————

Evan Buckley is a hellishly gorgeous man. Oftentimes, you have to remind yourself that he’s real—that he’s not some sort of mirage, a result of your constant sleep deprived state. He’s the kind of breathtaking that you find to be unfair.

You started working for the 118 as their house arson investigator three months ago. Captain Nash soothed every nerve you had going in, showing you to your quaint little office, introducing you to everyone else in the house. You’d definitely needed the comfort of that transition, but hadn’t expected your colleagues to be so welcoming. 

You were transferred as part of a greater Los Angeles initiative to create stronger communication and collaboration between the first responders and specialized investigators, as so much of their jobs go hand-in-hand. Although you’re pretty sure it’s only because the department heads get sick of answering follow-up questions about causes of fires—if people had insurance, if it was an accident or an attack, etc. 

So they split up you and the rest of your original team into varying firehouses so that there would always be an arson investigator on hand. And if there’s any foul play, then the police can be contacted quicker, as the investigator becomes a direct source to target those issues. You’d complain about all these silly loopholes if it weren’t for the fact that you’d gotten a pretty raise for your trouble. 

In truth, working with the 118 is the most useful you’ve felt in a long time. You know you’re good at your job, and you’d tell anyone who asked that you’ve done the work and you know that to be true. This opportunity has allowed you so much more field work than you could’ve imagined, which excites you. And there is the benefit of the eye-candy your coworker provides. 

Which is why, each time Buck approaches you, you have to blink a few times, press your nails into your palm, do something to ground yourself so that you might be able to carry on a conversation with him. Tonight though, he’s managed to sneak up on you, giving you no time to seem more like a sociable human being. 

“Hey, uh, you ever figure out the cause of that house fire from the other night?”

Buck is propped up against the door to your office, the air immediately responding to his presence, making everything feel lighter. 

You look up from your desk, huff out a breath to try and blow the hair away from your eyes. 

“Oh, hey, Buck. The house that the newlywed couple had just bought?”

Knowing him is enough to tell you that this particular fire would be the one to stick in his memory come week's end, the others being much too mundane for conversation.

Buck nods, a mischievous smirk appearing on his face. 

“Yeah, actually,” you say, encouraged to continue. “Turns out the couple started it without even realizing. They didn’t remember everything at first, but after going over there and questioning them some more, they finally pieced it together.”

Buck steps a little further into your office. You watch as he bends at the waist, hands coming to rest on one of the squishy chairs across from you. 

“How do you start a fire in your own house, and not notice?” he asks, that playful lilt to his voice reaching your ears. 

Your cheeks burn, a flush running through your body and turning you hot, head to toe. You tap your pen against your wrist. This isn’t usually the kind of information you’re excited to share with your coworkers—not that they wouldn’t be entertained by it. It’s that they’ll all be too entertained by it. 

“Well,” you cough, “turns out they were having a rather aggressive intimate moment and one thing led to another…” You trail off, hoping you won’t have to say it out loud. It was bad enough being in the room when they described their evening in detail, talking directly to one another like you really weren’t there.

Buck cocks his head at you, like a cat that’s just spotted a bug. “I don’t follow,” he says. His mouth quirks up the slightest bit at the corners. 

You inhale, mustering up enough courage to blurt it out before this becomes any more awkward than it has to be. 

“They were having sex in the kitchen and her ass bumped up against the stove top, turning on the burner. She’d grabbed onto a dish towel, for support or whatever, and when they moved it upstairs, she tossed the towel behind her and…”

“Neither of them noticed the fire because they were too caught up in the heat of the moment,” Buck finishes for you. 

You nod, sucking your teeth just slightly. “Yep. What’s worse is after spending an hour digging around and talking to them, the wife went ‘You know, now that you say all this, I do remember my bum feeling hotter than usual before we made it to the bed.’” You roll your eyes.

Buck drags his hands down his cheeks, straightening. There’s a smile on his face when he says, “Well, I guess they say love makes you do crazy things.”

“I suppose that’s one way to put it,” you say, laughing a little tensely. You chance a bit of eye contact with him, realizing he’d already been staring at you for who knows how long. “Was there anything else you needed? Or just curious about the local arsonists?”

Buck chuckles, turning his face away from you momentarily. 

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d want to go out for drinks tonight.” 

You glance at the clock on the upper right hand corner of your computer monitor. It reads 5:43. “Is it a special occasion or something? I feel like no one’s really done that since Chimney had a kid.”

Buck says your name. A knot forms in your throat. “I didn’t mean with everybody. I meant just the two of us.”

You blink. “Why?” You blurt out, the one syllable making you stutter.

His brows knit together. “Uh, so we can get to know each other better? I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious that I like you.”

You’re pretty sure steam might be coming out of your ears. “Um, well, I don’t like to assume. I mean, you’re a pretty flirty guy, you know?”

He says your name again as he plants his hands on your desk. Your pen falls out of your grasp. You’re mesmerized as you watch him pick it up and place it in the cup over to your left.

“This is Buck 3.0, remember? I don’t just flirt with anyone. Besides, flirting usually comes to me, what with being a sight for sore eyes and whatnot.”

You snort: this cute little laugh that comes straight from the back of your throat that Buck has grown to love. 

Buck decides not to rile you up anymore. “So, drinks or no? I definitely won’t cry myself to sleep tonight if you say no.”

You facepalm. “Yeah, alright. Filling my bloodstream with alcohol might be exactly what I need right now.”

————

Two cosmos in, and you’re feeling a lot better. You’re grateful for having kept a pair of jeans and a relatively-okay-for-going-out top in your locker, allowing you to look somewhat presentable enough to be so near Buck for an entire evening.

So far it’s been pleasant, the both of you making small talk, you showing him pictures of your cat and him listening intently to all the antics said cat gets up to during the night. 

You’re chewing on a bacon covered cheese fry when Buck speaks. “What did you mean earlier, when you said you didn’t like to assume? Like, not assuming a guy would be into you?”

You nod, pausing with your hand in front of your mouth while you swallow. “That’s exactly what I meant. This isn’t something that happens often.”

“You’re fuckin’ with me,” Buck says, taking another swig from his beer. If he’s not careful, he’s going to spill it down his shirtfront. 

Your chest thumps with self-deprecation, the voices from the sides of your head—the ones that create that pressure behind your eyes—telling you this might be a great moment to talk shit about yourself. To air out all your faults to this man you probably don’t even deserve to be sitting across from. God knows he won’t be interested when he really gets to know you. 

You inhale.

You’ve been in therapy long enough to know the power of positive thinking. You know that everyone is on a different, unique timeline—that things happen for everyone at different points in their lives. 

But being inexperienced in all aspects of the romantic world is something you’ve carried shame for practically your entire adult life. Only you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let it consume you anymore. It’s your life, and you have the ability to change the way you think. That doesn’t mean your body doesn’t still react, though, doesn’t still flush with anger at how your life has gone thus far, like your veins don’t thrum as you think of all the vile comments you could say about yourself, the ways you could punish yourself for being the odd one out. 

That’s why being approached by Buck in such a blunt, upfront way was such a shock to your system. That just doesn’t, or rather, it hasn’t ever happened to you. 

And with Buck being who he is, it felt like even more of a fever dream. You almost wanted to spin around and tell them to cut the cameras, the lenses zooming in on your face—mockumentary style. 

“I’m not though,” you say. “Guys don’t usually come up to me and ask me out on a date, or ask me anything really.”

Buck is staring at you intently, and you almost wonder if you went too far by calling this a date. 

“Are you for real?”

“Well, I wish you wouldn’t say it like that, but yeah. I guess there’s just something about me that’s not super alluring to most men? That’s why I was so surprised by you.”

He waves his hands around gently. “I didn’t mean it like a bad thing, I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around that.”

You eat a few more cheese fries. “Why?”

He stutters for a few moments. “Because you’re just so…so perfect?” You snort, an air of sarcasm to it.  “Like, for one, you’re super hot. You’ve got this whole shy but totally badass vibe about you, and you’re passionate and great at what you do. I guess I just can’t fathom there not being a line of guys wanting to jump your bones if you’ll let them.”

You laugh. It makes Buck smile. 

“I appreciate that you think those things about me. For a long time, I thought that was pretty impossible. Guess when you go twenty four years without anyone actively pursuing you, you start to wonder.”

The table falls silent, and you finish your drink, thanking the waiter when he takes your empty glass, returning with a full cup of water for you.

“So, let me get this clear,” Buck says. Normally those words would freak you the fuck out, but you’re feeling a lot less tense now, less scared of talking about your situation. It’s not what you want, but it’s how it is. “No guy has ever asked you out. So you’ve never had a boyfriend? Never had a first kiss? Never had…sex? Or anything adjacent to it?”

“That’s right,” you say. “And the orgasms I’ve given myself don’t count towards the adjacent. So yeah, you’re right. It’s embarrassing, trust me, I know.”

Buck is still reeling from you saying the word orgasm out loud to him right now, not to mention the images flashing through his mind because of it. He pulls himself together. 

“It’s not embarrassing. Are you embarrassed by it?”

You clear your throat. “I’m certainly not happy about it. Honestly, I’ve spent a lot of time wondering what it is that I’m missing that makes me so behind everyone else. And I’ve spent a lot of time being angry at myself. But it’s not like I can force those things to happen for me, you know?”

Buck gives you this look, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. A small grin makes an appearance on your face. 

“Well, I mean, you could,” Buck says. “But I can see why you haven’t. In my experience, just hooking up with someone to get off, or just say you’ve done something, kinda makes you feel like shit.”

You wrap your hands around your cool glass, running your fingers up and down through the condensation. 

“Unfortunately, I’m also a hopeless romantic. So I’ve thought about just hooking up with someone so that I’m not a virgin anymore, but that’s not what I want. I want a proper relationship and someone that cares about me and wants to be with me. Seems that’s a lot to ask for though.”

Buck reaches across the table and sets his hand on your wrist. “Hey, no, it’s not a lot to ask for. And it’s not bad to be a hopeless romantic! Honestly, I think there are more people like that than we know, but they do whatever to fit in. I am sorry that you’ve felt like this is something to be ashamed of. I can’t imagine how that feels. But I also think it means any relationship you’d have would be more successful because you’ve got your shit together already.”

That makes you laugh, just a little, and Buck is immediately thrilled, fully taking your hand in his. You don’t even have it in you to argue with him. For once, you just listen and try to see yourself through his eyes. 

“Well, I do appreciate you saying all of that, Buck. It’s only that I’ve been patient for so long, and I’m starting to think being wanted isn’t in the cards for me.”

Your gaze has dropped to the glossy table in front of you. You can see the reflections from the overhead televisions, from other patrons walking by, waiters carrying trays of drinks. Buck squeezes your hand in a way that makes you lock eyes with him. 

“So…what is it you think this is then?”

You blink. You have absolutely no response in your brain that would be the appropriate answer for this question.

“You asked me out for drinks.”

His grip on your hand moves up to your wrist, and a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his thumb press into your pulse. This is the most contact you’ve ever had with a man. Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of his skin on yours, the feeling of his calloused palms, shockingly cool and free of sweat, much to the contrary of your own. Your heart begins to race when it finally catches up. Maybe it’s better that this is coming on so unexpectedly.

“And…” Buck says. 

You cough even though absolutely nothing is tickling your throat. “You said you wanted to get to know me better.”

If it’s possible, Buck’s smile gets bigger. “Because?”

“You said you liked me?”

“Atta girl!” He teases. A shock of heat shoots straight from your throat down to your low belly. You pray he can’t see it on your face. Luckily, he continues talking. “So, now that we’re clear on me having a thing for you, what would you like to do with that information?”

You take a quick sip of water, mouth suddenly dry. “Well, my immediate thought is that I should run away and hide because in my head, a potential relationship, or whatever, sounds great but right now? Right here with you touching my hand and looking at me? It sounds kind of terrifying.”

Buck starts with the reading again, sliding his thumb further up until it’s nestled in the center of your forearm. It makes you shiver and his eyes flash. 

“Sounds like we’ve gotta get you out of that head of yours and into the present.”

————

With therapy, you’ve gotten exponentially better at learning how to breathe, how to focus on what’s happening right now, so that you don’t spiral out of control just thinking about what might be happening in a few hours, days, weeks. Being more present is something you’ve learned. That is, in your daily life. But when you’re not used to interacting with men, these feelings are so strange, uncomfortable and scary. 

Your imagination can only take you so far, and you’re accustomed to those limitations. Not knowing what a kiss feels like, not knowing the feeling of anyone else’s touch but your own, not being able to properly picture what might happen to your mind and body when in physical contact with someone you want.

It’s both exciting—sitting here, in Buck’s Jeep, as he drives you home, imagining that those feelings might finally be attainable—and nerve wracking, because how does any of this really work?

Reading about relationships, hearing about your best friend’s escapades, watching a love scene on tv—it’s all different than really experiencing it. Truthfully, it feels like there’s a part of your brain focused on dissociating so that your heart doesn’t fall out of your ass or so that you don’t go into hiding before anything can happen.

By the time Buck pulls into your driveway, you’re feeling like hiding might be your safest bet.

He stops the car, turns off the engine. “Let me walk you to your door?”

You nod, unbuckling your seatbelt with shaky hands. 

Buck follows you up the short sidewalk and up to your little front porch. You both pause under your outside lights, listening to the sound of crickets screeching from the shrubs. He puts his hands in his pockets and starts to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

“So, uh, you were kinda quiet on the way here…did I freak you out earlier? Because if I didn’t, I didn’t mean—”

“No!” you blurt. “You didn’t freak me out, you made me hopeful, actually, I think I’m just afraid of all that romantic stuff because I’ve never done it before…”

He smiles. “Well, yeah, of course it’s a little nerve wracking, but wouldn’t it make you happy to experience those things? Like say, a hug, for starters?”

“Are you trying to hug me right now?” You deadpan, though excitement is thrumming through your veins, blocking out any hesitance. 

“Well, actually, I was hoping to kiss you, but warm up to it first, you know?” Buck says, a teasing lilt to his voice, a naughty smirk playing on his lips. You wish there was another word for it, but there’s not. 

You freeze. Your face has got to be on fire. You bring your hands to your cheeks, covering yourself from his view. 

Buck chuckles. Loosely, he circles your wrists. “Hey, don’t hide. What’s wrong?”

You’ve glued your hands to your face. “You’re making me sweat, Buckley.”

If at all possible, this makes him smile bigger, laugh harder, insanely pleased with himself. You hear the rustling of his coat as he leans down, leveling his lips with the shell of your ear. “Is that such a bad thing?” he whispers. 

You pull away quickly, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Not fair!” you joke. “But, I would like a hug…”

At your consent, he’s on you immediately. If you thought he was big just looking at him, having his body pressed to yours, in the most beautiful bear hug embrace you’ve ever experienced, he seems impossibly huge. It makes it feel like you’re the only person in the world. He’s so warm, so solid. His arms are around your back. He’d helped guide yours around his neck, but you’re so dazed that you hadn’t noticed. 

God, he’s so tall. You can feel the soft of his tummy, and you’re afraid that if you stay like this for too long you won’t ever be able to get through another day without craving the contact. His hair is surprisingly smooth where you feel it against your cheek. His form practically swallows you whole. Not to mention how nice he smells. You’ve never been able to understand those lines in your romance novels, talking about spice and man and ginger whatever. But now you do. He smells like vanilla shampoo and woody body wash. 

“This is so nice,” you mumble into the side of his neck, way before you can talk yourself out of it. You can feel Buck’s laugh against your chest. It feels amazing. It’s like an out of body experience. 

He pulls back just enough so that he can look at you, but he doesn’t remove his arms, only shifts so that his hands are gently grasping your waist. You’ve never felt this way before—like all your nerves are being sent into overdrive. You’re alive with the smallest of touches. 

“I genuinely can’t fathom how any man has ever looked at you and not wanted to make you theirs on the spot. I could scoop you up and keep you all to myself right now.”

This time you manage to maintain eye contact with him. You grin, biting the inside of your lip. “Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m feeling really brave right now so if you were serious about that kissing stuff, this might be the time to act.”

Buck tosses his head back, gleeful laughter filling the small space of your front porch. Even so, his hands move up to the sides of your neck, fingers warm against your skin. “You’re sure?” he asks, his thumb caressing your pulse. He feels a kick of cockiness knowing he’s done that to you. 

“I’m sure,” you say. Nod your head one firm time.

“Maybe your cheek first? As a warm up?”

You nod again. You’ve officially steeled yourself. Buck bends to meet you, tilting your head back just slightly so that he can reach you from a better angle. His hand cups the back of your neck as he presses his lips to your cheek. He’s so sure of himself, so passionate about this small thing, that it feels sensual. It puts you in a trance. His lips remain on your cheek for just a minute, the beginnings of stubble scratching at your skin. You have the urge to giggle like a frenzied teen.

“How was that?”

You bite your lip, hating the way you’re buzzing with adrenaline, filling with excitement at all these new sensations. But more so, you feel so special. So seen. You feel fuller than you ever have before at being treated so gently, being cherished and looked at like you’re this precious being. “I really, really liked it,” you tell him.

“Well, I’m glad.” He winks. “I did too.” He relishes in your little giggle. “How about a real one before we call it a night?”

You’re nodding again. “Yes. I would like that very much. I just want you to know that I might be really bad at it and I’m probably gonna embarrass myself and it’s probably going to be the worst, most awful kiss you’ve ever had and—”

Buck’s lips are on yours, successfully shutting you up. You squeak. 

In truth, it does feel pretty awkward for the first few seconds, buck Buck takes it in stride. Doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable, just takes what you’re giving him and guides you in a better direction. He tips your head back again, slotting his lips over yours and pressing himself to you. Your brain goes completely quiet. You can’t think or feel anything that isn’t Buck. This feeling spreads throughout your body, easing the ache in your chest, making you feel light on your toes.

Relief.

You admittedly have no idea what you’re doing but try your best to follow his lead, trying to kiss him back with as much passion as you’re feeling inside, tentatively threading your fingers through his hair, setting a hand on his chest. At one point, his tongue runs over your bottom lip and you shiver. Buck’s hand flies to the small of your back, keeping you grounded. You let it happen, curious as to how it might feel. You don’t have words. He licks into your mouth, and you giggle. It makes him smile and he separates from you long enough to enquire what’s got you laughing. 

“I just realized what people mean when a couple looks like they’re eating each other's faces. It’s really nice, actually. Not as gross as people make it out to be.”

Buck snorts. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, already scrambling to get his mouth back on yours. He doesn’t feel like teasing, letting you pull him down, letting you try and lead this one. You’re so gentle—trying to figure out the right way, the way that works for the both of you, to kiss him. He likes that you treat him so carefully.

When you finally end the kiss, you break the silence created by an intense few minutes of eye contact. “Was I bad? You can tell me, I know I was a little clumsy at the least.”

“Nah, not bad,” Buck says. “You’re a quick learner. I enjoyed it. Ten out of ten, would do it again.”

“Me too. Practice makes perfect, right?”

————

For the past few weeks, things with Buck have been going well. Since that first night out, he’s prioritized getting to know you better, spending time with you that doesn’t revolve around a nasty fire and the plethora of causes it may or may not have had. Time that doesn’t allow for any of your coworkers to pick and tease. 

Buck is starting to feel like one of your best friends. That was cemented the night he watched you play Resident Evil 7: Biohazard, enraptured by how quickly you were solving the puzzles and taking down those grimy basement monsters that, frankly, scared the shit out of him. You only told him that you’d played at least four times at the end of the evening. But hey, all your romance novels have told you that the best relationships are based on solid friendships. 

You’ve had the opportunity to kiss him more, some of it sweet and exploratory, you being courageous enough to ask Buck how he likes to be kissed, if he likes it when you tug his hair, if there’s anything you can change or do differently. He’ll only answer those questions if you do first, telling him what’s working and what you want more of. As useful as all of this communication is, it was tremendously embarrassing to share your intimate thoughts with him at first. 

Some of the kissing has gotten a bit heavier. The first time you sat in his lap ran through your mind constantly for days after, appearing in your dreams, day and night. You couldn’t get over the way he felt beneath you—solid, warm, so real. How he sounded when he kissed you, how his hands felt on your hips and the curve of your ass. How it had felt when he’d encouraged you to grind against him for the first time. You hadn’t meant to moan, but it was like relief had shot through you. Like your imagination was finally getting to take a break because now you were actually doing the things you imagined. You felt so alive, so powerful, feeling him get hard between your legs, hearing the strain in his voice as he encouraged you to keep moving until you finished. 

Tonight is the first night of your long weekend. Neither of you have shifts for the next few days, and you took it upon yourself to ask if he’d like to stay over, maybe get takeout and watch a movie or something. It hadn’t been meant as a request with the hope that it would turn into something more. Frankly, you’ve been feeling more shy since that moment you shared a few weeks ago. 

You hadn’t expected to watch a movie in your bed instead of on the couch, hadn’t expected to pause it halfway through because Buck’s stare was practically burning a hole through the side of your head and you had to figure out what was up. 

“You’re staring, Buck. Is something wrong?”

He’d laughed. It was unlike a laugh you’d heard from him before. It felt sensual. It felt laced with want. 

“Nah, nothing’s wrong. I just can’t get you out of my head.”

Your eyebrows had bunched together. “But…I’m right here. Shouldn’t that help?” That laugh again. 

“That’s not what I mean, sweetheart. I mean that I can’t stop thinking about fucking you with my fingers.”

And that’s how you’d ended up on your back, head pressed to your pillows, with Buck hovering over you. He’s kissing you, dragging his tongue over the sides of your neck and kissing a trail back right back up. His hand is resting on your collarbone, fingers tilting you up to him.

“How’s this feel?” he asks, voice muffled against your shoulder. 

“G-good,” you manage. “Really good.”

He pulls back, sitting back on his knees and setting his hands on your thighs. “Yeah? You’ve been squirming an awful lot.”

The heat radiating off of you, the way you cover your mouth with the back of your hand is enough of a response. Buck doesn’t say anything more, the both of you sitting in silence for a few minutes. He knows you want to say something. But he won’t force it out of you. He’ll wait until you use your words. 

“Buck?” Your voice is a whisper. He hums. You clear your throat, and he bites his lip to hide the pride racing through him at knowing he’s got you all flustered. “What you said before, about touching me? I want you to do it.”

“Yeah?” His smile is so gorgeous, so cocky, and if you weren’t so dazed with lust you might reach out and smack him. 

“Yeah,” you say. You give him your best, pleading eyes. That’s the first time you’ve ever looked at him that way, and Buck knows that he’s gonna give in any time you do from here on out. He leans back down, kissing you again. You take one of his hands and bring it between your legs, encouraging him to cup you. “You’ve been kissin’ me like that for so long…already feel pretty wound up.”

He nudges your nose with his, a smirk playing on his lips. He sets his palm down against you, over your shorts. The heel digs into your clit and he starts rubbing you, slow, but firm enough that you gasp. Your hips buck.

“Honestly,” he says, “I’d thought about teasing you, but I feel like you deserve this, after all that patient waiting you’ve done. Is that what you want?”

His middle finger presses over your hole. You’re so warm. He can feel how damp you’ve gotten, that you’ve started to soak through your panties. 

“Please,” you breathe. “Want you to touch me, so bad, Buck.” You brace your hands on his shoulders, feeling like all this pent up sexual energy is just begging to come out. You feel feral. 

“Okay, baby, okay. Let me get your shorts off, alright?” He taps your hip and you lift up, letting him slide them down your legs.

“Oh, um,” he pauses, a concerned look on his face. “I just wanted to tell you, I-I haven’t shaved or anything. I mean, I trimmed like a week ago, but, if that bothers you, I-” 

“Hey, no big deal,” Buck says. “Doesn’t matter to me. Not ever gonna stop me from making my girl feel good.”

My girl. 

That alone felt like an orgasm.

He pulls your panties down, and you feel heat rising to your face when he marvels at how they stick to you. But the second Buck lays eyes on your perfect little pussy, he’s the one feeling dazed. 

“How no one has ever touched you like this…” He licks a stripe up your inner thigh. “How no one has ever told you how much they fucking want you, never fallen on their knees for you…” He spreads your legs farther, shamelessly trying to memorize every detail of you. “Is beyond me.” 

Buck sets his middle and ring finger on the hood of your clit, starting to rub you in slow, agonizing circles. 

“Because I feel like I could devour you right now.” 

Your feet slide up the bedsheets, legs bending at the knee and allowing Buck to get more comfortable as he settles between them. Buck sets his chin on top of your knee. He’s watching his own hand and how it moves over you. His left hand is pushing up your t-shirt just a little so that he’s massaging the fat of your hip. For a moment he pictures holding onto said hips while he fucks you for the first time, imagines what sounds you might make, and he has to keep himself from letting out a moan.

Buck slides his fingers down to circle your hole, reveling in how soft your skin is, how warm and messy and perfect. He gathers some of your arousal on the tips of his fingers, dragging it up through your lips and over your clit. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

You swallow hard, looking up at him. “Feels good. When you do t-that—jesus—the up and down? It’s so nice, but the circles, that’s what will get me to—” 

“That’s what’ll get you to come all over my fingers?” 

You moan. It’s high pitched and whiny, a sound you didn’t know you could make. You force the words out of your throat. “Yes.”

“You wanna take a finger now?” Buck kisses your knee. You’re pretty sure he’s sucked a hickey into the skin above it while you’ve been otherwise distracted. 

“Please, please, Buck, I need to know how it feels—fuck!”

Buck’s fingers are bigger than yours. Much bigger. The sight of him hovering above you, his eyes almost black, burning with desire for you, really does you in. He starts slow: a few soft thrusts of his finger rubbing your walls, exploring the inside of you. 

Then he curls his finger upwards. Your eyes roll back in your head and at the same time your body gives away how fucking turned on you are, how desperate you are for him—and it’s loud. 

You’re so wet that your pussy squelches. Something about that sound flips a switch in Buck, and you’re crying out as he adds a second finger, curling them both, clearly enjoying the filthy sounds you’re making. 

Buck pushes your knee down and away, settling completely beside you, propped up so he can see your face properly while he’s fingering you within an inch of your life. The way he’s looking at you tells you that he’s going to make you come soon. He’s making it a mission. He wants your orgasm as much as you do. He needs it.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. ‘M so glad you let me help out this time. I bet you’ve spent so many nights spread out on this bed, fucking yourself, doing all the work alone.”

Buck’s fingers are making you brainless. You feel blissful, so serene, so calm, so fucking good. He keeps curling his fingers, scissoring them every once in a while. You want to tell him that you can’t usually come just from this, that you need external stimulation. You grab onto his bicep. 

“Yeah, yeah, Buck—I have. You’re takin’ such good care of me.” He slows down his ministrations, letting you take a breather. Letting you gather your thoughts before he pushes you over the edge. You cup his cheek, pull him down for a kiss. He’s practically got hearts in his eyes. 

“Need you to play with my clit, B-Buckley. W-won’t come without it. I wanna come.”

You look down, suddenly entranced by the way Buck’s fingers are moving inside you. He follows your gaze, chuckling to himself. “You like to watch, pretty girl? Guess next time I’ll have to get you a mirror.”

Buck pulls his fingers out of your pussy and you whine. You shiver. You feel so empty. But all is forgotten when he puts the very same fingers that were just inside of you into his mouth. He maintains eye contact with you while he sucks them clean. You moan, despite the fact that he’s not touching you. It’s just so fucking sexy.

His hand returns to your drenched skin, fingers pressing firmly against your clit. 

“Where’s that spot, huh?” he asks. “Show me where it feels the best.” You guide him, a little to your left, that spot on the hood of your clit, not directly on it where the stimulation will be too much, but the spot that has you arching your back, quite possibly more revved up than you ever have been before. 

Buck is quick to begin soothing those precise little circles again, a look of determination on his face. For a moment, neither of you say anything. There’s only the sound of your breathing, the wet, filthy sound of him rubbing at your clit.

That telltale heat spreads its way through your low belly, through the tops of your thighs, through your pelvis, up your spine. It’s right there, you think. 

“Fuck, I’m—” The words are barely out of your mouth by the time your orgasm washes over you, making the room go fuzzy, shrouding you in pure, thoughtless bliss. He fucks you through it, rubbing you until you’re twitching, successfully overstimulated. 

You lay there, covered in a sheen of sweat, attempting to restore your breathing to a normal rhythm when he comes back with a damp cloth. You’d been able to tell him where they were, tell him you could clean yourself up, but he insisted. He wipes you off, gets you clean underwear and a fresh t-shirt. 

You sit on the edge of your bed, taking in your surroundings, taking in your own feelings about what you’ve just done. You feel so nice. So special. Confident in yourself and your body. 

You feel happy. Having this little piece of you cared for so well doesn’t make you whole. You didn’t need the experience to feel complete, or like it made you normal. But you do feel powerful. This was just the icing on top of the cake. Something of a treat. You wish you could think of another way to put it, but you feel like a badass woman. 

Buck’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He bumps your shoulder. 

“I was gonna ask if you enjoyed yourself, but…I mean, I did kind of see that you did.”

You laugh, taking his hand in both of yours. “I did, Buck. I’m glad I got to do that with you. It was perfect for me.”

He shoots you a wink. “Good. And I did wanna preface that I’ll be here whenever you’re ready to do all the other stuff.” He watches the way your eyes crinkle up as you smile. 

“I look forward to doing all that other stuff with you. But for now…wanna have a sleepover?”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[lyadrielle]

Skulduggery Pleasant was one of the first characters I ever created art for. It was also the first time I posted my art online, shamelessly tagging the author on Twitter because I was so proud of it.

In short, it’s partly thanks to this book series that I am posting my art online nowadays, so it seemed fair to do a little something to say thank you!

Since I now work full-time as a concept artist for video games, the character concept art format seemed fitting. :D

Thanks for reading my rambling and thank you for the likes, comments, silly tags, and lovely interactions over the years, and for many more to come, hopefully! Edit : I switched the last board with the correct version... I posted too fast and did not check it was the correct version silly me!

[kotikaleo]

THEY ARE HERE!!!

Just you look at all of them!!!

They are so real, they shine and they smell of plastic XD

And you all know where to get them 👀

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!!

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

Ramblings about design under the cut:

OKAY SO. I have put So Much into the designs, and now you will have to sit and listen to mad man rambling!

I made a few rules for this designs:

No face. The face is always obscured with a shadow or something else, but no eyes are visible. It is more of "no face to tell how they really feel" thing rather than Watcher stuff, but it can be both

Every singe piece of glass has to make sense in real stained glass window. I broke that rule a few times sadly, but not much on purpose more of I was getting tired and some parts slipped my attention. Still it looks good

The corners are heart colored, green on the bottom, yellow in the middle and red on top. And the hears are always present. Scott has only two, because he started Last Life with only two, so it seemed fitting. Pearl's heart is broken because she was rejected.

Celestial body. That one is obvious, but people might ask "oh hey, why Scott has a moon as well" That is called foreshadowing and also there was this moon crescent when he won so why not XD. And Yes Joel is The Car. But he is also a comet, that's why he has colorful flame around him.

So that's common rules that all of them obey, now lemme tell about more details of each one of them:

bloodied fist :)

Grian has a waffle - I just draw the lines for it diagonally instead of crossed from top and bottom, image it like an undercut that is meant to look like dragon scales but looks like a waffle XD

his wings are cut. No flying for the birdie úωù

Scott reaches for the star and it overshadows him. Something something victory doesn't feel so good uωu

And I already mentioned the moon but yeeeee the moon. He will be connected to Pearl, but alas it will hurt them both

Broken heart :(

Tilly is SILLY!!! Also Tilly and Pearl are connected by the line of fate, but it is also interrupted, because no matter how much Pearl says that Tilly is her soulmate that is not fully truth and she is still connected to Scott

Scar has The Flowers

He whispers, because he learned painfull way not to tell more then he is allowed to

Sunflowers :)

OKAY SO MARTIN IS SO MUCH TO ME

The sand has run out, you can see that there is a bit of sand trickling down but the top is fully empty

The hourglass is over him, even if the lava spills over and in front of it, Martin is forever trapped and overshadowed by the timer

THE CROWN, THE RED WINTER!!! Martin in last moments betrayed everyone, spilled lava over his teammate killed Impulse, everyone. He is loyal only to the red crown no matter how much he denies that

The Car! :)

Joel is the only one full of joy, he Has Won and he will run this victory till he runs dry!

He breaks out of the frame because he doesn't obey the rules of the game, he plays like he wants to play

Also the number of the car says "FAMI-" - FAMILY.

I think this is it???? If I have not forgot anything, and MY DUDES I AM SO PROUD OF THIS ONE!!! AAAAAAA

[ohmy-gojo]

actress! reader. he has a breakdown when you die in the movie

"are you for real doing this.." you looked at your husband who was passionately typing away at his laptop, through tears by the way

"babe, YOU be for real right now. what the fuck was going on in the minds of the writers that they decided to fucking kill you off?! im gonna make sure this stupid fucking movie has 0% rotten tomatoes! ugh im so fucking mad!"

you raised your eyebrow "you do remember that this is still a movie i acted in, right?"

"doesn't matter, princess! you were the main lead so they have no business killing you off! like wheres the plot armor?? uneducated asses. dont even know that the main leads always has to live, how did they even become a writer!" he said furiously

the latest movie you filmed in has been released on every platforms. you were particularly excited about this because this was the first time you acted as a main lead and it was also based on a medieval era. but however excited you had been, gojo was a thousand times more excited than you. he always supported your dreams and saw it as his own. he showed up during almost every shooting session, looking as proud as always. hyping you up so much that even the staffs started to get annoyed

"i can tell that this movie is going to be a blockbuster because of my baby," he had beamed at you and pecked your lips lovingly. absolutely unbothered by the offended stares he got

unfortunately, he couldn't make it to the last days of shooting because of missions. for which he showed great sadness (you had to provide him selfies with your pretty outfits, so that he doesnt lose his mind) which is why he didn't know the ending and since you didnt want to spoil it to him, you kept your mouth shut.. which was maybe a wrong decision

he had taken a leave from work just to stream the movie with you. arranged a super big bowl of sweets instead of popcorn like a normal person would, made the couch all cozy and even went as far as to turn off all the lights to give this a 'theater' vibe (hes planning to open one at his home to stream your movies)

at the start of the movie, he seemed really excited and happy. everytime you appeared at the big screen of his 80 inch tv, he would go 'thats my baby omg' with heart eyes like a fanboy. which he was to be honest

but as the movie progressed and you showed signs of, well dying, his heart sanked. and when you did die, he horrifiedly muttered 'what the fuck..' repeatedly and started bawling his eyes out while hugging you tightly

which brings you here with him writing a review of your just released movie and rating it 0

"this is not enough," he muttered. rubbing his face with his hand, he said "i gotta sue them for making this absolutely atrocious movie and for emotional damage."

"aw toru," you somewhat jutted your lips "did you really not like it?" you said dejectedly

his furrowed brows relaxed at your tone. he pulled you closer to him and pecked your forehead. "maybe i am overreacting a bit," he said sheepishly "but seeing you... die like this, even if its just in a movie, made my heart sink to my stomach." you noticed he used the word die fearfully and with great reluctance

you batted your eyelashes at him, innocently "oh.. but im still with you, no?"

he smiled sadly at your words, you really have no idea about the hold you have over him

"well yeah... but no offense to you, im never watching this movie again." he firmly said with furrowed brows

you giggled at your silly husband and flicked his forehead "none taken."

extra :

"ugh im feeling nauseous because i keep getting reminded of those scenes, I might really puke."

"babe i know you love me but thats only because of those damn sweets."

bday post:') not proofread !

[love-belle]

looked for stars and i found a supernova !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which it takes a random song drop and a feature from a university student for their relationship to come to light.

or

for when it became true, opposites do attract. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!sargeant!reader

warnings - language

author's note - i am SO sorry i have no explanation for not posting except for the fact that i am now unemployed (i finished hs and don't start college till like august) and i just do Nothing the entire day. i love u all thank u for sticking around <3

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilymhe and 729,816 others

yourusername boys are SO stupid and it's so endearing and frustrating like u r such a DUMBASS pls let me kiss u on the lips (i did ❤️)

8,628 comments

username hahahah!!! funny joke babe!!! kids and i and our goat miss u ❤️

username and like just that my bisexual ass cried tears (i never had a chance)

-> username she's for the girlies every man back OFFFFFF

username going insane over this

username i know logan is in shambles rn like that brother is distraught

-> yourusername he hasn't stopped calling me i had to block his number

-> logansargeant UNBLOCK my number i am your BLOOD

-> yourusername fuck off i will call mom

-> logansargeant have you ever known sanity in your life

-> yourusername have you ever felt loved

-> yourusername sorry can u please tell mom to stop yelling at me it's scary ok

-> username she did NOT need to do him like that

-> username oh that was FOUL

username she's so pretty i simply cannot believe a man can rizz her up

username do we ignore y/n violating her brother like that orrrrr

-> username u are an only child it seems

-> logansargeant it's just that she's mean

-> yourusername go and drown in a pond since u wanna act like a silly goose

username why is charles in the likes he don't even follow her

-> username i have the most funniest and silliest theory and im afraid saying it out loud will send logan into early retirement

alex_albon evil laugh

-> yourusername i pay u ENOUGH. any more and i will have to involve my lawyer WHAT DO U WANT

-> alex_albon ferrari has exceptional pasta

-> yourusername ahahahhajaha what's that got to do with me u little clusterfuck of a twink

-> alex_albon oh! absolutely nothing!

-> username i am screaming what the fuck

-> username "little clusterfuck of a twink" OH MY GOD

username crazy how everything she says is so real idk if that's the fan in me or i am just way too fucking down bad for her

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username love love LOVE see this rep bc my man is such an idiot but it's ok cus he's my princess

-> yourusername YOU GET IT !!!!! he's my princess <3

logansargeant what are you doing

-> yourusername tryna slut him out n then build a lego set w him

-> logansargeant i always knew you would be the one to bring generational shame to our family what is this behaviour

logansargeant what happened to "if i ever talk to a man again i want you to be disappointed in me" ?

-> yourusername u were disappointed in me nonetheless fym

-> logansargeant i

-> maxverstappen1 i can tell we would be great friends yourusername

-> logansargeant no way

logansargeant what happened to BIOLOGY you were supposed to be STUDYING

-> yourusername i did study

-> yourusername his anatomy

-> alex_albon logan just deleted this app i hope you're happy

-> username Y/N PLEASE HESITATE

-> username CRYINF SHE'S SO UNHINGED

username the way i can feel logan's mortification through the screen 😭😭

username when will it be me

username love to see women in stem (seducing the enigmatic men) idk im proud of her i know she was crying abt not finding the love she read bout

-> yourusername this might be my favourite comment ever i adore u

username prophecy be looking a bit too permanent 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 who's gonna change it 🤣🤣🤣 i am on my KNEES 🤣🤣🤣🤣

username everyday i learn something new about y/n and everyday i praise the lord that i can exist at the same time as her

*liked by charles_leclerc*

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 2,629,916 others

charles_leclerc you're in her dms, i wrote a song for her in under a day when we weren't even dating. we are not the same.

12,628 comments

username CRYING WHAT THE FUCK

username oh my god is this real

username CRYING THE SONG IS TOO GOOD

username HIS VLOCE JIS VOICE HIS VLICE HIS VOICE

username going crazy rn what the fuck

username HELLO?????? WHAT IS THIS

username need me a man like this thank u

username too much unpack he has a GIRLFRIEND and it's Y/N

-> username HE PULLS??? HE PULLED HER???

username this is life altering

username shaking from excitement i cannot WAIT for logan to download instagram again and be Surprised

landonorris disgusting

-> charles_leclerc forgive me for not wanting to hide my love ☹️

-> username NAH WHO GOT HIM LIKE THIS

username "thinking bout her eyes every hour she's my wildflower" OH HE'S IN LOVEEEE LOVE

username his voice oh my god

-> username tears dripping down my thighs

-> username OHMYGOD

maxverstappen1 "we are not the same" thank god

-> charles_leclerc bubonic plague 🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠

-> username nurse he's out 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

-> username nah who got him being funny

-> username DID PEOPLE SERIOUSLY NOT LISTEN TO THE SONG

-> username NO WAY THAT'S Y/N AT THE END

-> username "okaaaaaaay" CRYINF I LOVE THEM

username my life has been divided into before this song and after this song and im so grateful for that

username i think the most important thing here is who out of all his friends owns a toyota in which the heat don't work

username crying bc wdym charles wrote a song for his gf when they weren't even dating

username in love with y/n's voice at the end WHY IS THAT SO CUTE

-> username screaming i need this song injected in my veins

yourusername craaaaaaaazy how u never told me that ⁉️

-> charles_leclerc details details

yourusername cool song

-> charles_leclerc thank you i wrote it for my girlfriend

yourusername AHSHDHDJJSJSJAJS IN LOVE THIS WAS SO GOOD UR VOICE IS INSANE I LOVE IT SO MUCH

-> charles_leclerc THANK YOU !! ❤️

-> username they make me SICK

-> username calm bf 🤝 hyperactive gf

username the most important question is did logan re download this app

-> yourusername he did but then he saw this post, heard the song and deleted it again

-> yourusername he's just bitter i am bsfs with max before him

-> logansargeant disowned

-> yourusername my grad pic on the mantle BEGS to differ !!!!!! u are on the piano u have no room to talk

-> logansargeant i'm pushing you out of this year's christmas card

≡.;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 899,527 others

yourusername got him to say he would still love me if i was a worm n now we go on walks and i point at every worm and say sorry i can't be her

tagged charles_leclerc

12,628 comments

username NO WAY THIS JS REAL

username i just want a detailed description of how they met and who asked the other out ☝️😞

username my roman empire the fuck

username the way their personalities crash when will it be me

username THE CAPTION IM SCREAMING

username the way she will never let that man know peace and i am so EXCITED

username she's so unhinged i love her

username LET IT ONCE BE ME PLEASEEE

username blocked (im laying on the highway tonight)

username the way i know logan had to be sedated

-> username my man did nothing wrong why are they torturing him 😭

alex_albon we're down one driver at williams

-> yourusername is it a good time to tell u that i recently got my license

-> logansargeant YOU FAILED YOUR TEST 5 TIMES FUCK OFFFFFFF

-> yourusername big emotions

-> username im cryinf what do you mean shw faield the test 5 TIMES ????

username LMAOO THE LAST SLIDE 😭😭😭 I LOVE HER

username parents dare i say

username max is not happy i can tell

-> yourusername i received a very strongly worded message from him yesterday and the only thing i could make out was that he's a bitch for charles like. a BITCH.

-> maxverstappen1 blasphemy

-> logansargeant NO WAY you're buddies with MAX VERSTAPPEN before ME back OFFFFFF

-> yourusername nurse he is out again 🗣️🗣️🗣️

-> username what are they doing to my boy 😭

logansargeant y/n please. THINK.

-> yourusername i did

-> logansargeant AND ?

-> yourusername he's nice i will keep him

-> logansargeant NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

-> yourusername god forbid a girl wants to date a questionable man

-> charles_leclerc ?

username crazy how this is the most random couple ever and we're instantly like PARENTS !!!!

-> username i for once love them like the cultural clashes we're gonna get heh

charles_leclerc my love please

-> yourusername my pronouns are she not her because i'll never be her 🪱

-> charles_leclerc stop

charles_leclerc and can you please tell your brother to hesitate before speaking? he just offered me candy and a dollar to break up with you

-> yourusername FUCK U I AM WORTH WAY MORE THAN CANDY AND A DOLLAR

-> charles_leclerc that is not the issue here

charles_leclerc pretty girl

-> logansargeant keep your thoughts to yourself you hormonal vulgarian

-> yourusername TIME OUT FOR U let my bf live

-> charles_leclerc this is how my life is going to be from now on?

-> yourusername are u complaining (threatening)

-> username i KNOW logan is shaking behind the screen he just called charles leclerc a hormonal vulgarian

-> username sibling rage takes people places they wouldn't go with a gun

username this is hilarious

username logan's likes on twt are mind blowing like what do u MEAN u wish the plague on ur sister 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

-> yourusername u should see what his texts look like

-> yourusername "you need an excoeciscism for the demon in u it might an issue idk" followed by quora links

-> username siblings ❤️

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, logansargeant, carlossainz55 and 2,729,915 others

charles_leclerc silently working on our own little crafts in the same room tonight, queen? ❤️

tagged yourusername

11,628 comments

username CRYINGGGGG I HATE HIS GUTS

username LET IT ONCE BE ME HOLY SHITTTTTT

username they're so parents it's insane

username he's so relatable bc i too would be obsessed with y/n

username he definitely has one of those t-shirts that say "i ❤️ my gf"

-> yourusername he has one in every colour with diff fonts :((((

-> username GOODBYE

username need me a man who will sit in my general vicinity while we work on our own silly little crafts together

-> username charles might've just set a standard idk NEVER SETTLE FOR LESS

username that text.............im violently ill

username the matching rings wow god really does have favourites

yourusername wait a sec i got 12000% error on my scale

-> landonorris how do you even manage to do that

-> yourusername if u think women don't belong in stem just say that

-> landonorris STOP IT MY PR TEAM IS HUNTING ME DOEN FOR SPROT TAKE JT BACK

-> charles_leclerc shame on you

-> landonorris WJAT DID I DO

-> username crying they're terrorizing people for fun 😭

-> username we deserve this

yourusername fighting demons (a degree that i chose to study) to be on my phone bc my BOYFRIEND posted

-> charles_leclerc don't give logan more reasons to send me vaguely veiled threats

-> yourusername he does WHAT

-> logansargeant sending him links on how people got away with murder is HARDLY a threat idk why you're like this

-> username no way they got him UNHINGED

-> username 😭😭😭😭😭 he's so

yourusername MY BABY LEO 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

-> charles_leclerc i am right there

-> yourusername so is leo 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

yourusername are u mitosis bc i never metaphase as cute as urs

-> charles_leclerc i am too dumb to understand this but you are the prettiest

-> yourusername king i am so in love with u

-> logansargeant i judt tfeew up

-> yourusername leave me ALONE

username i hope all the happy couples break up (why couldn't it be me in a relationship)

username SCREAMING HE'S SO DOWN BAD

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green, p29

masterpost

The yellow flowers were bright against the headstone.

Danny had gone with a bouquet of small sunflowers. Something about how cheerful and slightly silly the flowers were seemed right. Bruce thought they were a good choice too.

“I don’t actually know what to say,” Danny started. Bruce had stepped back a bit under a tree with Ursa to give Danny some privacy. “I’ve never actually talked to a grave like this. I don’t have one. A grave, I mean; I don’t have a grave. I’m glad that you do.”

After a moment of debate about appropriateness, Danny sat down next to the grave. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He had always thought graveyards would feel gloomy, but it was oddly peaceful. He wondered if he felt more settled there because of what he was.

“Bruce told me about you. I mean, he said that what he knew was dated, even before your death, but tried. He tries a lot, which I think you must have known if you were friends with him, if you went to him for help.” Danny rested his head on his knees. Despite the years, Annalise’s name was still crisp on the headstone. “I think I understand that about him easier than the other kids, but I guess that’s because of what I am? I know what it’s like to try too hard too.

“He’s actually been a really good dad to me. I know there are things he fucked up with in the past, but for me he’s been good. I also like the rest of the family and I think you’d like them t00, from what Dad has said. You’d be especially good with Damian. I think he could use someone soft in his life that just loved him because he’s him. I mean, I think maybe I could use that too?”

Danny sighed and fell quiet. A damselfly flew past, idly resting on bits of the graveyard.

“I’m sorry that I never got to meet you. I’m sorry that Bruce never got to meet your child,” Danny said when the damselfly had moved on. “I know I’m not her, but I hope it’s okay that we’re pretending that I am. Dad seems so certain that you’d be okay with this since it’s to help protect me, but I kinda hate that we didn’t get to ask you. It’s just that… it makes you my mom, and that shouldn’t be forced on someone. Even the dead should get that right.”

With another sigh, Danny stood and dusted off his jeans. He reached out to lightly rest his fingers on the headstone. “Anyways, I just wanted to come and say thank you. Even though we just did it, thank you for being an option. Oh, and that I’m going to try to be a son that you can be proud of. I hope you and the baby are resting well.”

Once Danny got back to the tree, Bruce rested his hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Did you say what you needed to?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Danny bent down to ruffle Ursa’s fur in greeting (and maybe a bit to have to avoid meeting Bruce’s eyes).

“We can always come back if you need to say more,” Bruce said. “I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”

Danny couldn’t help but smile a little. He knew Bruce didn’t believe that talking to a grave did anything. To be fair, Danny didn’t know how much it actually did, but he felt that some of it got through. It had to. But even if Bruce didn’t believe in it, he was so willing to put up with the drive just because Danny did believe in it.

“Thanks. Maybe after our summer trip?”

“I think that would make sense. Now, do you want to eat somewhere or just get something from a drive through?”

Danny’s gut said to do a drive through, but he knew that was still mostly about being afraid. He was trying not to be as afraid. “I guess… if there’s somewhere dog friendly or that we can eat outside at, we can eat here. That has to be easier for you, right?”

“It would be, but it also wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve driven and eaten something,” Bruce said as he handed over Ursa’s leash. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through something.

“You already have a list of places, don’t you?”

Bruce gave a slightly sheepish little smile. “I like to be prepared.”

“Yeah, I know,” Danny said, because he really did get it. “Okay, pick one for us? I could eat whatever.”

“Whatever’ it is.”

-

Danny found himself drifting off in the car. It was rude, he guessed, to not stay awake and keep Bruce company on the drive, but he almost couldn’t help it. The sunlight through the window was warm. Ursa, who had insisted on sitting on the floor in the front, had her head resting on his lap. Bruce, as if sensing that Danny wouldn’t last, had put on some sort of podcast that was low volume and mellow.

His eyes slipped closed.

Time drifted past as he floated in that spot in between. It was actually one of his favorite states of being. Not awake but just awake enough to know that he wasn’t exactly asleep. It was the perfect sort of state to just spend lounging in bed and relaxing. Or on a warm day on a drive where he knew he was safe.

“Danny.”

“Hum?”

“Open your eyes for me, honey.”

Everything was bright, almost blinding green. It took Danny’s eyes a moment to adjust. It took longer to understand what he was seeing. “How am I in the ghost zone?!”

“You aren’t. I believe it’s more like we’re standing on opposite sides of of a bridge.”

Danny shook his head and tried to focus on the swirling reality. “Who… oh. Oh, you’re Annalise, aren’t you?”

Annalise smiled back. Her hair, pale blue and flame like, drifted around her like she was under water. One pale hand rested on her still round belly. Her eyes were golden and kind. “Or ‘mom’, if you’d rather.”

Even in this odd dream state, Danny could feel the blush climbing up his cheeks. “I don’t mean to—”

“I know you don’t,” Annalise interrupted him gently. “I heard you when you were at my grave.”

“You did?”

Annalise hummed in confirmation. “I don’t think we have much time like this, so there’s something I need you to understand. Are you listening, Danny?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Bruce was right,” Annalise said. “You are my son now and I already love you so very much.”

“But—”

“You don’t have to do anything else to make me proud, honey, okay?”

Danny swallowed back his protest and the lump in his throat alike. “Okay. But what about…?” His eyes dropped to Annalise’s belly.

Annalise’s face fell a little and the hand on her stomach tightened for a moment. She did her best to recover her smile. She seemed to be getting smaller. No, further away. “Well, at least I don’t have back pain like this!”

“Find Clockwork!” Danny called. The green was cracking and shattering around him. “Ask him about the never born!”

“I will!” Her voice was faint now. “I love you, Danny.”

“I—I love you too!”

“Danny?” Bruce asked, his voice coming out of nowhere. “Are you alright? You’re crying.”

Danny scrubbed his palm over his cheek, surprised to find that he really was crying. He blinked the rest of the green away and was back in the sunlit car. He threaded his fingers into Ursa’s fur. “I’m okay.”

Bruce looked doubtful.

“I am,” Danny insisted. “I really… I really think that I’m okay.”