#kids push scooter

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 5

max Verstappen x single mom!reader (with logan sargeant)

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warnings: cursing, minimally proofread, disgusting amount of fluff Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4153 auth.note: logan girlies rise up, new banner, also broke this into two parts for reasons, this is a poly fic now and I need to update the summary too don't I spotify: i made a playlist

Kevin sighed heavily, his breath fogging the window. Wiping it away with his hand, he kept staring outside. As though by sheer willpower he could change the weather. "It's rained all day."

Max chuckled, swirling his coffee in his cup. "I know, maate. But it's getting better now, yeah?"

The boy shrugged, turning and jumping down from the sofa. Max knew he had to be bored. There were only so many races and demolition derbies he could put together with the few toy cars he'd brought. The tablet he sometimes played on was charging, and they'd already watched two movies since that morning.

Sighing, Max finished his coffee in one gulp and set his cup down. "Right, come on."

Kevn looked confused, even when Max shrugged on his coat and reached for Kevin's boots. "Where we going?"

"Anywhere but here." Max grinned as the boy rushed to him, nearly falling over as he tried to shove one of his feet into a boot. "We'll go out in the rain, yeah?" he suggested, helping him get his boots on then his raincoat. "It's just a little water."

"Can we splash?" Kevin asked hopefully as he skipped to the stairs.

"Wouldn't be a walk in the rain without a splash," Max promised, picking him up and carrying him until they were outside. Kevin immediately pushed the hood of his coat back, closing his eyes and giggling as the rain landed on his face.

He made sure to get plenty of pictures for y/n of Kevin riding his scooter along the asphalt, and of him trying to jump hard enough to make the puddle water splash above his head. And then he had to do it himself, the boy's childish glee contagious to the point his side ached from laughing. The rain let up and Max knew he had to be ready to go back inside but no, it was time to hunt for wildlife. His shoes squished with water at each step as he held onto Kevin's hand, letting the boy lead him to where they'd spotted groundhogs earlier in the day.

"What if they drowned?" Kevin asked worriedly a few moments later, wringing his small hands and looking down into the flooded hole at the base of the barrier.

"I'm sure they didn't, mate. They're smart, yeah?" Max squatted down, looking at the hole. "They know how to get away from the rain."

"They're on the other side of the wall," a voice said behind them.

Max wanted to be annoyed at the interruption. But Kevin's face lit up at the sound of Logan's voice, and within seconds he was trying to scale the wall.

"I'm too small." Kevin's voice was mournful and accompanied by a world-weary sigh.

"C'mon, I'll hold you up." Logan extended his hands, giving Max a quick nod as he lifted Kevin.

Straightening, Max moved over to peer over the wall, seeing one of the groundhogs creeping away. "See, little mate? They're fine."

Kevin looked and sounded relieved, waving at the animal though it didn't seem to care. "I like animals, Mister Logan."

"Country kid. There's a bunch of geese over on the lake, you wanna go see?" Logan asked.

And he had to tag along. He couldn't just push Kevin into Logan's care, even if the guy was seeing the boy's mom. Kevin chattered nonstop about animals, telling a garbled tale about a goose that had chased him in the park. Squeezing past the turnstile, he waved at the security to indicate the child was with him. Not that he needed to worry, since Kevin already knew the person by name.

"Wow," Kevin breathed in awe as they stepped onto the temporary platform and he saw the dozens of geese gliding over the water.

He looked on as Logan affectionately pushed Kevin's damp hair back from his face, keeping a firm grip on his hand when he walked to the very edge to look down into the water. The breeze sent a chill through him and he worried that Kevin might be cold, too, but didn't want to ruin his fun. Just a few more minutes. It was almost the time y/n had said she'd be done.

"You're good with him," he said to Logan once they were on their way back. He kept his eyes on Kevin, who had gotten back on his scooter and was just ahead, steering so he splashed anyone he passed. But he felt Logan look at him in surprise.

"You think so?" Logan asked.

Max nodded. "He can be a handful, yeah?"

"Yeah, but… He's a good kid." The smile was evident in his voice. "You… You ever think about having kids?"

Only if they looked like… He sighed, nodding. "Sometimes. You?"

"Not really." Logan cleared his throat. "Not until recently."

And now it was time to change the subject. Because—

"You're close with y/n." It wasn't a question.

His stomach twisted. "She's my coworker. An important member of the team."

"Well, yeah, but… You don't watch Checo's kids when they're at the track."

Fucking Americans and their need to point out the obvious. "Okay, so I'm close. I guess I'd consider her a friend." That hurt to say and he didn't want to investigate why. "Why?"

"Maybe you don't know, if you're only – Do you know why she's shy about a relationship?"

Fuck.

"I mean, we've gone out a few times, but." Logan sighed. "I just thought you might know. You're closer to her than anyone else."

"I don't know," Max said, trying his best to not sound annoyed. Watching Kevin, he slowed when the boy stopped to show his scooter off to Oscar. He spotted a Red Bull shirt up ahead and knew it was y/n, was certain when Kevin squealed and took off towards her, leaving Oscar holding his scooter. Stopping, he turned to Logan. "I don't know why, but I think it's because she's a single mom. His dad's not around at all, that's all I know."

Logan nodded. "Thanks, mate."

Max wrinkled his nose. "You've been around Alex and Oscar too much. It sounds weird when you say mate."

"I can't help it," he laughed. "Not enough Americans around here."

"There's a couple," Max said, nodding towards Kevin and y/n, who were slowly heading back towards them. And though it hurt, the words formed in his mouth. And though he didn't want to say them, they came out. "She likes you. Little mate likes you. I think… If you don't push her, it'll work out like it's supposed to."

"Really?" Logan looked over at her, and Max felt the usual bitterness in his chest when he smiled. "Thanks, Max."

It wasn't fair. Max knew that was something that only would be acceptable if Kevin were to say it, because only a three year old could make that statement and not be looked at with disdain. So he kept it to himself, swallowing down the jealousy as Logan moved first, taking up the boy's scooter and meeting y/n and Kevin. He felt unnecessary and wondered why he moved to join them when he could be heading to the motorhome to change his shoes and get ready to go back to the hotel for the night.

She reached out, smiling as she squeezed his arm. "Thanks so much for keeping an eye on him. I can tell he had an amazing time."

Suddenly he didn't feel useless. "We both did, but he was going stir crazy."

"I'm glad you took him out." She looked him up and down while Kevin jumped in a nearby puddle, encouraging Logan to join in. "Did he splash you?"

He looked down and saw the water and bits of mud splashed up his legs. "Ah, a little bit. Then I had to do it myself."

"You did?" she giggled, squeezing his arm again and letting go. "Oh I wish I could have seen that."

"I'll send you the video," he sighed as her hand slid down his arm.

"Mama, gotta pee."

"C'mon, kleine maat." Max reached for him, waving off her insistence that she could do it. "I've got to change anyway. I'll take care of it while you get your stuff packed."

"Thank you, Max," she said softly. "I just need to check in with the other admins about tomorrow then I'll be up."

He nodded, settling Kevin on his hip. The boy wrapped his arms around his neck, head resting on his shoulder as he was carried off. "Toilet then we'll get dry yeah? And—"

"Grote maat?"

"Yeah?"

Kevin sighed and Max wondered if he was just tired. It had been a long day and as far as he knew the boy hadn't had more than a thirty minute nap just after lunch. Or maybe he wasn't sure how to say whatever it was he wanted to say. "Nothin'," he finally mumbled.

"It's something," Max said gently, catching the closing door with one foot and pushing it open so he could enter the motorhome.

"I don't have a daddy," Kevin blurted once they were upstairs and Max was setting him down.

Max blinked, freezing for a few seconds. "Hasn't your mum talked to you about that?"

"No… Yeah. She said…" His face screwed up in thought.

And Max remembered he had to use the toilet. Guiding him into the bathroom, he turned his back to give him privacy, using the time to take off his coat and sodden shoes.

"Laura has a daddy," Kevin announced once he'd flushed.

It took him a couple seconds to remember who Laura was. "Yes… Her dad has the same name as you."

"But he's not my daddy."

"No, he's not," Max sighed. Picking up the discarded raincoat, he threw it over his shoulder and held the boy up at the sink so he could wash his hands. "What did your mum say?"

Kevin drew in a deep breath. "Not everybody gets a mama or a daddy. Some people get both." He shook the water from his hands and stretched to get a paper towel, his expression far too serious for one so young. "I love mama."

Max swallowed the unbidden lump of emotion in his throat. "I know you do, kleine maat. She loves you too."

"Mister Logan likes her."

Max inhaled slowly and let it out even slower. "Yeah, I guess so," he said, setting Kevin down and ushering him from the bathroom. "But that—"

"Do you think he'd be my daddy?"

"I don't—"

"You like mama."

Oh no. No. He had to put a stop to this. "I—"

There was a gentle knock on the door and Max would have gladly kissed whoever was on the other side. "We'll talk later, yeah?" he promised in a rush, moving to wrench open the door and more relieved to see y/n than he should have been.

"Hey," she said, slipping past him. "Alright, doodle bug, let's get ready to go, okay?"

"I'm just gonna… Change," Max said, still numb from Kevin's assertion. Grabbing a clean set of clothes from his suitcase, he carried them into the bathroom and closed the door with a sigh.

Maybe spending so much time with the kid was a bad idea. Obviously he thought that time together equaled a father figure, and since that would never happen, he should pull back. Let her be happy with Logan. Or not. Whichever path she chose wouldn't include him, so there was no need for him to continue to stick around.

He could hear them talking softly, wondered what Kevin was telling her about his afternoon. Wondered what her reaction would be to her son suddenly wanting a father. He had probably brought it up before, so she would just deflect or give him her usual answer, and—

"Max? Have you got his raincoat?"

He blinked, saw the bright blue coat he'd tossed over the sink. "Yeah, sorry. A couple of his cars are in here, too. Just a minute."

"No rush, I'm making him change into dry clothes." Her voice faded as she walked away from the door.

When he came out a few moments later, Kevin was pouting as she worked a comb through his hair. Wordlessly he draped the raincoat over the back of the chair and dropped the cars into Kevin's bag then made sure to give the boy a quick smile while smoothing his own hair.

"Want Mister Max to fix it," Kevin said suddenly and Max grunted in surprise when the boy suddenly bolted towards him.

Y/n shrugged, tossing the comb to him. Sitting back on her heels, she rolled her shoulders then bent to make sure none of Kevin's toys were hiding under the couch.

Kneeling down, Max shared a smile with Kevin and began to gently work the comb through his unruly curls. "Your mum has more experience with this than me," he whispered.

"But she's tired. Work," Kevin whispered back.

He almost laughed, wondering what Kevin considered his own work that day. "Do you know what she does?"

Kevin shrugged. "It's on her phone. Pictures and movies for the online people."

"Bit more than that, but yeah. And she's very good at it," Max promised, focusing on guiding the curls back from the boy's face.

"Can you do it? Or do you just drive?"

So that was what he did. Just drove. "No, I can't do what she does." He felt her watching them and looked over at her. "She's the only one who can do it."

"What are you two talking about?" she asked.

"Taxes!" Kevin answered with a giggle.

Max grinned, shaking his head as he finished combing his hair. Aware of her disbelieving look, he shrugged. "You heard him, we're talking about taxes."

"What about taxes?" She narrowed her eyes.

"They suck," Kevin said with all the certainty only a child could produce.

Max tipped his head. "Exactly."

She snorted, taking the comb and slipping it into her bag. "You're lying but whatever. Let's get your—" She stopped, because Max was already helping Kevin with his raincoat.

"Keep your hood up outside, yeah? You don't want cold ears." Max sat down fully, stretching to get a dry pair of shoes from his suitcase. "Do you need a ride back to the hotel?"

"I was just gonna Uber," she said, zipping up the bag of Kevin's things. "Gotta stop and get some dinner, so—"

"Y/n."

"Hm?" She looked at him as he stood. And sighed. "Okay."

"Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

Okay. He cleared his throat and grabbed his jacket. "Unless you and Logan…"

"No." She looked on while he moved to help Kevin with his rain boots. "He's… Got stuff on his mind."

"The car?" Max guessed, seeing her nod. "I don't blame him. It's fucking shit."

"Max!"

"It is," he said with a shrug. "He'd have better luck with a bicycle."

"That might be true, but—"

"He's good," Max told her. "It's not him, it's the team and the cars. They brought him up too soon and when he wasn't immediately amazing they lost faith in him. You can't earn points if the team is constantly shitting on you."

"Max," she hissed.

And he felt himself blush. "Sorry," he mumbled to Kevin.

"Mama says it too," the boy told him.

"The point is—"

"Vowles is stupid, that's what the point is. Instead of supporting his driver he's telling the world he's looking for someone new. He favors Alex, gives him the better car, and leaves Logan to struggle." Max straightened and sighed. "Logan's not perfect on the track, y/n, but he would be improving if his team believed in him and helped him learn."

"I know," she whispered sadly. "He's—" She pressed her lips together. "Are we even supposed to talk about it?"

They probably weren't, but he didn't care. "Doesn't matter. He's what?"

"He's worried about next year. He loves this," she said. "It's what he's worked so hard to get to, and now it's slipping away."

And Max knew she was falling for the American. She, who'd known the man for barely a month, showed more concern for him than the so-called team he drove for. He wondered if Logan had any idea. "I'm sorry," he said softly. When she looked at him doubtfully, he sighed. "I really am, y/n. But we've got more than half the season to go. Don't give up hope, yeah?"

"I'll do my best," she murmured. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"Worry," he finished with a nod. "I know. C'mon, let's go, yeah? Get him some dinner before he falls asleep."

"Not sleepy," Kevin said, ruining the announcement by yawning.

"We were talking about you," Max murmured once they were in the back seat of the car and on their way from the track.

"What?" The fading daylight was just enough for him to see her look over at him.

"Taxes."

"Oh." She chuckled, shifting Kevin in her lap as he leaned against her. "That's what I always tell him when me and Ellie are talking about something I don't want him to know."

"Good idea." He looked down at his phone, replying to the messages he'd been ignoring from his father. "Did you know I just drive?"

"Yeah, you should really start doing Uber," she teased.

He snorted. "Sixty or seventy laps, three hundred kilometers an hour. Practically a Sunday drive in the country."

"Well… Isn't it usually?"

"You're not funny," he muttered, ignoring his fathers lengthy questions about strategy and stats for the weekend and opening his messages with Christian.

"I'm hilarious. You just have no sense of humor."

"The groundhogs at the track are funnier than you – Ay!" he laughed when she shoved his shoulder.

"You're such an ass, Max."

"Y/n," he gasped in mock shock, pointedly looking at Kevin.

Kevin, who was almost asleep.

"Fine, you're such a butt, Max," she corrected.

To his delight, they playfully bickered all the way to the restaurant she'd ordered their dinner from. And from there all the way to the hotel. It was fun and playful, and kept Kevin from falling asleep, and he reveled in making her laugh so hard as they climbed out of the car at the hotel, turning to get Kevin. Max waved her off, holding the boy and pausing to greet some of the fans waiting, ignoring their questions about who Kevin was. He had a sinking feeling that the photos – and movies, as Kevin called them – would be plastered online before he reached the elevator and wondered if he should have let her carry her son inside. But she had to know it would happen, and he could only hope the fans online would be polite.

"Thanks, Max," she said when he carried Max into her hotel room. He opened his mouth to say she was welcome, but she continued, "I don't mean just this. You've done more than anyone would have expected you to for me the past couple days."

While she spoke she unpacked her and Kevin's food, and Max instinctively moved to help Kevin out of his boots and jacket, sending him to the bathroom to wash his hands. "I really don't mind."

"You sure?" she asked, looking up from her phone.

"I like—" he stopped when there was a knock on the open door.

Apparently Logan didn't have too much stuff on his mind. Exchanging a nod in greeting, Max looked away, his lightened mood dimming as y/n spoke to him, insisting he come in and eat, she'd gotten an extra burger. Despite Logan's assertion that he was fine, she had him seated at the small table in no time and Max wondered how it felt, to be fussed over so affectionately. Kevin, even though he was tired, greeted the man with exuberance, and at least he knew what that was like, and wondered if he looked that happy when the boy climbed into his lap.

"I should get going," he said, feeling like a third wheel. Like he was intruding on a private moment.

She looked ready to say he didn't have to, but nodded. "Okay. Thanks again, Max."

"Anytime," he promised.

"How do I look?"

"Amazing."

Y/n huffed. "You didn't look!"

"Sorry!" Ellie turned from the counter and her eyes widened. "Holy shit."

"Too much?" she fretted, tugging at the hem of the black dress. She would swear it had been a few inches longer in the shop.

"What's the end goal for tonight?" her friend asked.

"Dinner?" she answered slowly.

"And what else?"

She sighed. "It's just dinner, El."

Ellie leaned to make sure Kevin wasn't coming into the kitchen and lowered her voice. "Have you slept with him yet?"

"Ellie."

"I'll take that as a no." Ellie nodded. "Then it's perfect."

"What does that mean—"

"He's tall, so put on your highest heels. And since your tits are out and we're not in Carolina, grab my shawl. That blue one, it looks great with your eyes."

"My tits are not out."

"Please, one good sneeze and you'll be flashing him." Ellie smiled knowingly. "It's okay to want to have sex, you know."

Y/n huffed again, reaching to run her hands through her hair but stopping when she remembered how long she'd worked on the simple updo. So she settled for an annoyed gesture. "I know that. I just – He – I'm – El, it's been four years. And last time—"

"Not every guy is a Josh," Ellie said gently. "Give yourself some credit, babes. You were young and a little dumb, and now you're older and wiser."

"I know," she sighed.

"You worry too much. You like Logan, he likes you. He and Kevin like each other. You've been seeing him for over a month now."

Nodding, y/n opened her mouth. But her best friend kept talking.

"He's a good guy. Stop holding him at arm's length."

"But what if—"

"What if you let yourself have a little fun for the first time since you got pregnant with Kev? What if you put yourself first even if it's just for one night? What if you have the best night that makes the four hours of getting ready worth it? What if—"

"Okay, okay, okay! Point made," she said with a groan. "It was three hours."

"You really hate admitting when I'm right." Ellie crossed the small kitchen and hugged her. "You look great, sweetie. He'll drool even more than he already does when he sees you."

"Ew…"

"Fine." Ellie squeezed her tight. "No woman has ever looked more gorgeous than you look tonight, and no woman ever will. Traffic will stop, heads will turn, and everyone who sees you will wish they could be graced with one of your smiles."

"That's better." She laughed softly, hugging her friend back. "Okay, he should be here soon, I've got to get my shoes."

"And the shawl."

And the shawl. By the time she found it in Ellie's closet she was nervous, palms sweating as she fixed it around her shoulders and checked and rechecked and then triple-checked her appearance in the full length mirror. He was there, she could hear him talking to Kevin and she took several calming breaths, jumping when Ellie entered her bedroom.

"Here," her friend said, reaching to slip something into her purse.

"What—"

"Just in case. He is from Florida."

Y/n looked at what she'd dropped inside and slapped her friend's arm. "Ellie."

"Come on, before Kevin gets him to watch Cars again."

Sighing, she nodded and closed her purse after making sure she had everything. Logan was on the sofa with Kevin and her breath caught a little, both at how patiently he was listening to her son 'read' his book and at how handsome he was. She was so used to seeing him dressed casually so each time he wore something other than jeans and a hoodie it was a pleasant surprise.

"You look gorgeous," he said when they were outside. He'd said great upstairs and she still felt the surge of feminine adrenaline over how he'd stared for a full ten seconds before speaking.

"Thank you." His palm burned the small of her back as he guided her to the waiting car, and when he opened the door for her he sighed her name. She wondered if it was a good thing to start a date with a kiss and decided that it was. Because it made her feel gorgeous. Great. Beautiful.

Wanted.

Driving to the restaurant, his hand strayed to her knee and she covered it with hers, meeting his eyes when he stopped the car.

"Are we still figuring it out?" he asked softly, turning his hand and lacing their fingers together.

"I think we already have," she answered, swallowing when his hand squeezed.

Wondering why it wasn't as scary as she'd thought it would be.

Taglist:

@leodette | @trisharee | @littlegrapejuice | @lilypat | @manicpixiemom | @spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris | @kravitzwhore | @younxii | @silentreader128 | @samantha-chicago | @mrsbrxkkxr | @cmleitora | @jasons-little-princess | @toldyouitwasamelodrama | @aundercover | @kiwi43-81 | @awritingtree | @voidsfics | @misartymis | @goldenchemistry |

[nervoushottee]

it happened quiet | daryl dixon x fem!reader

Summary: [1.5k] What you and Daryl have is a soft quiet love.

Big Bald Ass Note: I’ve always had a love for Daryl Dixon. He was one of the first “older man” crushes I ever had many years ago. I’ve always loved his character and the way Norman Reedus has and still does portray this character is like no other. My favorite thing about him that I didn’t understand when I watched twd when I was young but grew into adulthood was his introverted character. And how his care for others was soft, quiet and subtle yet strong and profound all at the same time. As a person who has a quiet love, personally prefers it and deeply cherishes that quiet love. I had the sudden urge to write this. I’ve been getting back into my Daryl Dixon phase recently and I just couldn’t get this out of my head. Thank you to @moonpascal for giving me that little push I needed to just go for it while the juices were flowing despite my other fic waiting outside waving her hands hoping to be seen, This is a long author’s note but this piece is truly something that means a lot to me. Which is funny because this is literally fanfiction but it's still writing and it's still art and it's mine. 

Enjoy.

Daryl wasn’t an affectionate person. It’s never been something that just came easy to him. He never received it as a child and didn’t think anything of it once he got older. 

There was one time when he was really really young. He was waiting for Merle after school, his older brother’s school building a few blocks away, and he watched his classmates greet their parents. He saw the parents with bright eyes and wide smiles. Mothers kissing their sons on the cheeks and fathers rubbing the top of their heads.

 A strong deep feeling within his belly grew from the sight of it and it got bigger and bigger as the two Dixon brothers walked back home.

And when they got to their home, Daryl saw their mom had been exactly in the same spot where the two boys had left her. Face down into the pillow, an arm hanging off the side of the bed where a spilled bottle of Jack Daniels had stained seeped into the carpet. 

Daryl cried for the first time ever. He cried for something he never had. 

He didn’t cry when he saw kids on the streets with new bikes and scooters. Didn’t cry when his mom and dad would yell until the sun went down. But he cried for this. That deep strong feeling that he couldn’t name poured out of him and he cried. Standing in the hallway as he watched his mother sleep. 

Merle, barely a teen and was bitching about spilled liquor, thought he was crying because mom looked too still. His older brother checked her pulse and felt the faint thump, thump, thump. “She’s jus sleepin’ Daryl.”, he explained to him. But Daryl didn’t stop crying. He hunched over, clutched his chest like his heart had been twisted and shoved down into his stomach and cried.

When Merle finally found out why he was crying, the older brother placed his hands on each of Daryl’s shoulders, stooped to his level and looked directly into his eyes. 

“Dixons don’t cry. Not over that or anything else. We just weren’t made for that stuff.” 

Daryl never cried or wanted it again. 

Until now. 

Until you. 

When the world’s gone to shit and the dead are walking. You gotta learn how to start trusting the living. Well,  to learn how to trust your group. They don’t just become a group of people you survive with. They become your family whether you like it or not. 

And in the beginning, Daryl sure as hell didn’t like it. 

He tried to force it away. To keep himself on the outside like he’s always done. Still did even when his brother went missing when they went back for him on that roof. But when time goes on and people die you build something, you find something and you learn something. He warmed into being more into the group. To being something of importance to Rick and the others. More than just Merle’s younger brother.  

He remembers Carol telling him that he was meant for a leadership role but he’s never thought that about himself. And never will.

And getting closer to them came with affection. Came with a bond. With awkward hugs from Carol when he had spent day and night looking for Sophia. Her cropped hair pressed against his bandaged ear. It came with pats on the back from Rick and looks that meant something a lot more brotherly than he’s ever felt with Merle. With you and your small smiles and lingering eyes. 

He had to learn to accept it. To learn that it was okay and wasn’t out of pity. That it was something he was actually allowed to have. It took him a long time to and he still only takes it in doses. Giving Carol a Cherokee Rose or the brief massage of her sore shoulder. Patting Rick’s shoulder,  hoping he knows how much his brotherly bond means to him through it. Nodding his head at you with the tip of his ears a bit red as he turns his head away from you. 

You’ve been a part of the group for as long as he could remember. And the two of you didn’t become something immediately. Daryl was an ass to you when all of this first started. He was an ass to everyone. But when he would small smiles from the courtyard, he would feel something that had never stirred inside of him before.

You were a touchy person. 

Always within arms reach of someone. Giving Lori a reassuring squeeze of the hand or hug when she seemed like she would just break down in tears from the stress of being pregnant in this world. Kissing the top of Beth's head when she came to you with her anxieties over the group's safety. Or playfully slapping T-Dog’s shoulder when he used to make you laugh.

But when it came to Daryl you never touched him. And he felt off about it. Thankful but off.

 When the two of you were starting to become something more, he had subtly brought it up when the two of you were on watch. It felt like pulling teeth when he asked you. And he would rather have done that with a rusted wrench than do this.

“I know you Daryl.” you said to him with a shrug. 

That was the only thing that you said to him when he had asked but it was all that he needed. As your eyes never left his, he watched you smile softly. The moon giving your skin a light glow. You knew that he doesn’t respond well to physical affection. To hugs or kisses on the cheek (except from Carol who does it despite the awkwardness she laughs through). You knew it was something he just wasn’t used to. Or even maybe never had.  It was only four words but it meant more to Darly than he could even say in a lifetime. 

And if you ever told anyone that he was the one that made the first move and kissed you at the top of the prison tower. He will lie until he’s blue in the face and say he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. 

After that you became more affectionate with each other. More touchy than before. Not touchy like Glenn and Maggie. Kissing each other goodbye when the other would go on a run or a quick kiss good morning. Or hugging after a run gone bad and they almost lost the other. Public display of affection to his partner, to you, is something Daryl could never really get on with. 

But what the two of you had was a quiet love. A word Daryl still had a hard time saying and rarely ever said but knew deep in his heart that he felt it whenever he looked at you. 

It was a quiet love filled with small glances and innocent touches. His hand against the small of your back or a quick tap on your arm or thigh. Your small smile to greet him and the nods that greets you.  Holding his hand underneath the table. Feeling his calloused thumb rub against your hand once or twice. Checking on eachother during the other’s watch shift. Him adding some of his food on your plate as he walks past you. You giving him a snack of whatever random thing you have on hand in the evening. Placing your head on his shoulder very briefly when there's not many people around. A mutual meaning of a hug when it's late at night and you won’t see him for a while.   

It was a silent bond the others knew about by name(ish) and feeling  but not as much by action. Those actions were yours and yours alone. And you both preferred it that way. 

Tender kisses and tight hugs. Soft caresses on the cheek and tracing fingers across bare chests. Whispered stories of childhood that turn into bedtime stories throughout the night. Expressing moments of doubt, fear or anger. Tears that would fall on your face and the feeling of his lips pressed against the top of your head.  

Even in moments when you were sleeping next to him. Your head on top of his chest or his arm curled around your stomach. Daryl would feel your wrist, his thumb against your pulse to make sure it's still beating. Or hold as still as he can like he’s tracking a buck in the forest to feel the up and down of your body to ensure you’re breathing. 

You became a big part of his life. This group (his family)  became a big part of his life. Who knew that it would only take the end of the world for him to feel something more than just anger for the first time in his entire life.  

Daryl wasn’t an affectionate person. But he learned how to be. For the good of the group, for himself and for you. 

dividers by @saradika

[missmeinyourbones]

WHERE LOVE LIVES

big bro touya & little snotty brother shouto, noncanon verse where rei got the kids the fuck out of that house!!!! slightly suggestive at first but shouto is a cockblock, i love u todobros, part 2?

Against the creaks of the floorboards and the buzz of the streetlights outside, the Todoroki household is relatively calm. 

It’s barely the beginning of summer. Though it's rather late, the sun only set a mere hour ago and the humidity in the air still holds up, even without the harsh rays marinating the sky. 

The Todoroki house itself is on the smaller side, especially for a family as large as they are. Filled to the brim with trinkets and out of place belongings, there’s not much wiggle room for architectural design or things that aren't deemed necessities. 

But it’s well-loved, by a gentle mother and her four rowdy children. There are scratches on the floor from Shouto’s scooter that’s meant to be used only outdoors, and a chip in the beige paint from where Natsuo pushed Touya into the wall. Fuyumi’s work sneakers carefully sit beside the front door’s welcome mat. It’s a house and a home. 

With Touya’s mother out for the night, the eldest son was left in charge of the house—and with that, his siblings. When your boyfriend charmingly invited you to spend the night at his place, he might’ve left out that tiny detail. 

“Babe,” the squeaking of Touya’s mattress can he heard as he whines against your cheek, “you serious?” 

You push him, though your warm smile betrays your rough action, “Deadly.”

Touya smirks at your resistance—he’s always loved a good challenge. His hands crawl up your sides, squeezing at the sensitive skin by your hips and waist. He laughs under his breath when you gasp on top of him at the brushing of his fingertips. 

“Not even a quickie?” he smugly instigates. 

“Touya, all three of your siblings are home.”

He remains unphased, shrugging beneath you. His chapped lips find your neck, crawling up to your jaw and right below your ear. He sucks a bit harshly on the one spot he knows you like so much. 

“So? We can be quiet.”

You laugh at his bold words, and Touya hums happily against the vibration of your throat. 

“You’ve never been quiet a day in your life,” you remind him.

“I could learn,” he’s quick to retort. With a sudden buck of his hips, you feel his half-hard length rub briefly against your heat. Touya doesn't miss the way you bite your tongue to hide your whimper. 

At his foul play, you lean in dangerously close—not close enough to give him the satisfaction of your lips touching—before whispering.

“Sorry, I don’t fuck bad babysitters.”

Touya’s tongue skims his canine as he growls. “That’s a fuckin’ lie and you know it.” 

You let him kiss you, and it's short and sweet despite his lewd words. But Touya works for more. His soft tongue tries to encourage your mouth to open, but you let him fail the first few times. On his third persistent try, you let your jaw fall open just enough to allow him access into your mouth. 

A soft moan purrs in your chest, and when Touya opens his eyes to take in (what he knows to be) the alluring sight, his eyes catch a tiny figure standing in his bedroom doorway. 

“Fuckin’ christ—” he jumps beneath you, bucking you off in the process and scootching upwards against his bedframe. 

You turn in panic to look at the now cracked open door, only to see a tiny Shouto. With squinting eyes and a pout on his face, his dainty hand fiddles against the doorknob of your boyfriend’s room. 

Touya runs his hands through his overgown roots in frustration. 

Now, he knows how dramatic he can be at times, but he means it when he says that this might be the worst thing to ever happen to him. Shouto, of all people, cockblocking you two. It’s like a comedy sketch written by his own personal devil.

“The fuck are you doing up?” he dares to ask him, though you don’t miss the “fuckin’ perv” he grumbles at the end of the question. 

“I—” a sniffled hiccup interrupts the smallest Todoroki’s declaration, “don’t feel good.”

Touya glares at his whimpering younger brother, unimpressed. “Go tell Natsuo,” he decides. 

“He’s asleep,” Shouto immediately whines in reply, because of course he tried Natsuo first. “And Fuyumi is studying for her big test tomorrow,” his voice drifts off as his eyes find the floor.

Touya, the last resort sibling, kisses his teeth and throws a pillow towards the door. 

“Well, ’m busy, too.” He returns to nip at your neck once more, but the glare you give him tells him otherwise. Unphased by your glare, he continus to lean in, but you dodge his advance and push his shoulder with your palm. 

“Fuck,” he groans dramatically, throwing his head back in frustration. He turns his direction back to the boogery nuisance in his doorway. “Go drink water or something,” he waves him off with a hand. 

“Touya,” you hiss at your boyfriend’s coldness. He looks at you and shrugs, as if you’d approve of his dismissive reaction. Your eyes roll just as quickly as your voice beckons softly, “Come here, Shouto.”

You move to the edge of the bed and the sniffly boy trots over to you on heavy feet. His pajamas are wrinkled, presumably from tossing and turning in his bed for the last few hours. His hands hover over his abdomen as he hunches in nausea.

Your hand finds his forehead, sticky with sweat. “What doesn’t feel good?”

Shouto’s nose crinkles in disgust, and Touya rolls his eyes at the dramatics. 

You’re no stranger to any of the Todoroki siblings, especially the baby of the family. Between attending his school concerts and going out for ice cream celebrations, it’s safe to say there’s a lot of talk in the house about Touya’s pretty girlfriend—whom all siblings aren’t shy to vocalize is way out of his league. 

“My stomach feels weird,” he whispers behind a frown. 

You coo at his agony, fingers rubbing his boyish cheeks in an attempt to soothe his discomfort. “Well, what did you eat last?”

Shouto thinks for a moment behind his usual deadpan expression before his eyes slowly flicker over to where his older brother huffs on his bed. 

“Touya got us pizza for dinner,” he remembers. 

“Okay,” you nod. You remember seeing a few discarded pizza boxes when you first came in. “How many slices did you have?”

Shouto clams up in guilt at your innocent question, fumbling with his fingers and words as he croaks out a weak, “Seven…”

Your eyes grow in shock, but you’re able to suppress your surprise and merely nod before not so discreetly turning to his guardian for the night behind you in disappointment. 

Touya looks like a deer caught in headlights when you hiss through clenched teeth. “Seven?! What is wrong with you?”

He shrugs defensively, gesturing to the blob of red, white, and sniffles behind you. 

“He’s like… old,” Touya attempts to defend himself. “Figured I didn't have to watch him eat.”

Your eyes shoot daggers through his skin, and while he would normally love getting this look from you, he hates that it's in defense of his stupid brother. 

“Okay,” you sigh, turning back to the younger Todoroki. His eyes soften when you extend a hand to his slightly chubbier one, “Why don’t we go find some medicine and lay down for a bit, yeah?”

Shouto’s face lights up at the offer—but naturally, with one Todoroki sibling’s happiness comes another’s demise. 

“Woah woah woah—” Touya immediately stands up from his bed when his brother links your hand in his. He points at an accusatory at the little fucker when he gawks, “Who the fuck is ‘we’? Shouto knows where the medicine is.” 

“Touya,” comes your same warning from earlier, and while Touya loves pushing your buttons, he knows his final strike is always the third. 

So the three of you make your way downstairs—you and Shouto hand in hand while Touya grumpily trudges behind you. 

Touya’s right—for once in his life—because Shouto naturally guides you right to the medicine closet, opening the door for you and everything. What a little gentleman. 

A quick browse of the options and you decide on a bottle labeled for stomach relief. The bottle itself is opened but decently full, and Shouto behaves like a pro when he grabs himself a glass of water in preparation for his dose. 

You pour the designated amount into a medicine cup and lightly cringe at the thick consistency. The artificial advertisement of bubblegum and strawberry can only do so much to disguise the fact that, at the end of the day, it’s still medicine. You hear Touya stifle a gag from behind you, but you know it’s half to piss his younger brother off.

Shouto remains unphased, downing the liquid like a champ and silently rinsing out his mouth with his water. You swear you see him shoot Touya a look, one with slightly raised eyebrows that reads something along the lines of victory. 

You usher the two of them to the couch. Touya plops on the cushions obnoxiously, going as far as reaching for the television remote before you pluck it from his grasp. 

Though you sit beside him, knees skimming one another, it’s not enough for Touya—because Shouto makes himself at home with his head in your lap. Bastard. 

With a nod of approval from Shouto, you decide on some cartoon from the early 90s—something with talking animals and childish violence. 

The silence between the three of you takes over, but it’s warm—like a relaxing blanket of weight. The Todoroki household is rarely quiet, let alone a good kind of quiet, so Touya decides to let Shouto win this round.

He shifts his gaze to look down at his youngest brother. Shouto lays comfortably on your lap, your hands delicately raking through his hair to help lull him to sleep. When he feels Touya’s hard gaze on him, he has no issue returning the stare. Under your embrace, Shouto smiles mischievously and sticks his tongue out in a taunt. 

With Touya’s feet clunkily spread out on the coffee table and his arm loosely draped around your shoulder, he silently mouths to his brother. 

“Bitch.”

[fuck-customers]

i kind of can't wait to leave this one job i have because not only am i burning out but people are getting nastier and nastier as our peak season ends.

we don't allow push scooters into the zoo unless they are for medical reasons so we have to tell a lot of sad little kids they can't ride their scooters into the zoo. it's a downhill slope into the zoo and if the kid falls it is ON US. we are liable for injuries that occur!! had a lady bitch at me about "why is a stroller allowed but not a scooter" because YOU ARE IN CONTROL OF THE STROLLER AND HAVE A LOT MORE POWER TO STOP IT IF IT STARTS ROLLING THAN A KID DOES!! i told her i'm sorry but if we make an exception for you then we have to make an exception for everyone, she was SO fucking pissed. i'm tired of these entitled parents thinking their 3 year old will be responsible enough to not fool around.

Posted by admin Rodney

[littlxpxtal]

Dress

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence WORD COUNT: 2.8k

Our secret moments in your crowded room

They got no idea about me and you

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

December Continued

Rafe waits a few seconds before following me into the bathroom, keeping an eye out for anyone who might’ve seen us go in together.

“Okay take a few with the flash and a few without” I say, handing him my phone and propping my body up against the sink.

“Didn’t think I was actually gonna take pictures” he grumbles, sitting on the lip of the tub and angling the phone up towards me.

“Thats why I asked you up here duh.” I say in between flashes. “Lemme take some of you.” grabbing the phone out of his hands I take a few images of him before he stands up and presses my arms to my sides, pushing me up against the sink.

“I have a hard time believing this is all you wanted to come up here and do” he murmurs into my ear, pushing my hair back off of my neck, pressing a wet kiss on my shoulder.

I can smell the peppermint lingering from his mouth as his lips trail up to reach my chin.

“I told you, you were my photographer tonight.” I say simply, opening my phone to inspect the images he captured. 

“You know, I love to see you in all black, like you normally wear. But red. Red’s my favorite color. Did you know that?”

I did know that. I’ve known since we were little that Rafe always picked out red toy trucks, red swim trunks, he had red bed sheets back when he slept in a twin sized bed. I remember when we were little kids running around figure 8, he would wear a red cape. He also has a red scooter that he wouldn’t let anyone ride, except me. His notebooks in school were always red, and when he got a bike for his 10th birthday he got a matching red helmet. I had always associated Rafe with Red, I guess I didn’t realize it until now. 

“I remember” I say, finally letting out the breath I was holding as his hands graze over my body, pulling my dress up ever so slightly.

“I could never tell what your favorite color was.” he says, letting out a chuckle before pressing kisses along my jawline.

“You always wore purple bathing suits, but would throw a tantrum if you didn’t get the orange towel. Your bike was yellow but your helmet was pink. And you always wore those green sneakers until they practically fell apart.” I giggled, remembering those pair of green Converse I wore until the soles gave out. I smile at the thought of simpler times, when Sarah and I hung out every day, Rafe terrorizing us on the playground, always demanding to be it during tag, tackling us to the ground. 

Lost in thought, I barely realize Rafe is sliding my panties down my legs. I btie my bottom lip and look up at him, remembering all the history we had together, how we went from childhood friends, to hating each other for years and then to this. Whatever the fuck this was.

He turns me around to face the mirror, pushing me forward. I hear his pants unzip and fall to the ground.

“So what is it?” he asks, running a finger through my folds. I let out a groan and squeeze my eyes shut. “What’s your favorite color?”

He teases my entrace with his cock, pushing slowly in and out, inching deeper and deeper in. I let out a gasp and clench the sides of the bathroom sink. His arm snakes around my front, pulling me closer to him.

“Blue” I finally let out, and he pushes himself fully inside of me, covering my mouth with his hand. Blue, just like the color of the sky on a clear day in the outerbanks. Blue like the color of the sea from my back patio.

Blue like Rafe’s eyes. 

“You feel so good pretty girl” he growls into my ear, pounding me from behind. Our eyes interlock in the bathroom mirror, I fight the urge to roll mine in the back of my head, overwhelmed at the pleasure I was feeling from his dick and the sight of him fucking me in this bathroom.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door and my eyes widen in fear.

“OCCUPIED” Rafe shouts out, slamming into me, causing me to yelp into his hand. Tears brim my eyes and he moves forward to plant a kiss on my cheek.

“You like this don’t you?”  his free hand trails down my body, reaching my clit, and he lightly taps against it. I moan against his hand, bucking my hips up against his hand.

“Asked you a question” he says, placing another light tap against the top of my pussy. I nod my head aggressively up and down, speaking a “yes” into his hand. His palm was probably covered in my spit, and I feared the sight of what it would look like underneath when he finally released his hand. 

As if he could read my mind, he leans in close, his face against mine, staring at me through the mirror. “If I let go of my hand you gon stay quiet?” I nod my head up and down vigorously and he slowly releases his hand, and places it on my hip. He starts to rub circles on my clit and my head falls forward for a second, trying to control my breathing I squeeze the sink until my knuckles turn white. His hips rock back and forth at a steady pace, using his hand on my hip to guide himself. I can hear the sounds of skin slapping echo through the bathroom, and his soft grunts vibrating through his body, trailing up through my spine. I whimper beneath him, feeling myself reach my climax.

His tongue runs up my neck and I look up to make eye contact with him once again in the mirror.

“Cum for me pretty girl” he whispers into my ear before sucking on the sweet spot beneatht it. I tremble beneath his touch, my legs starting to give out as I come undone. I lean against the sink for support, and he pushes himself deep into me, leaning against my back as he finishes quickly after me. 

He tosses the condom in the trash and cleans himself up with a tissue. He bends over and pulls my underwear up and back on, pulling my dress down before he put his pants on. 

“I gotta go, Tops gonna be wondering where ‘m at and I told him I’d be sellin tonight” I nod my head in response and watch him exit the bathroom. I lock the door behind him and walk back up to the mirror, inspecting my face. It wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be. I reached into my purse and started to reapply my makeup. A knock on the door makes me jolt.

“Occupied” I squeak, trying to mimic Rafe’s inflection.

“Its me” I hear Sabrina’s voice come from behind the door. I apply the finishing touches to my smudged lipstick and unlock the door. She slides in and locks it behind her.

“Have you been in here the whole time?” she questions as I pack up my purse.

“No I was roaming but came up here to piss. Whats up?”

“I’ve been looking for you. And Tops been looking for Rafe.” 

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly and look back into the mirror, blotting my lips on a tissue.

“Haven’t seen him.” For a second I feel bad about lying to her, but I really didn’t want to have this conversation when I really didn’t want people to know. Not that I didn’t trust Sab, I just wanted to keep it to myself until I was ready to accept the fact that I've been fucking Rafe Cameron. 

She squints her eyes at me and I toss my tissue into the trashcan. I watch as her eyes trail down and she stares at the condom wrapper sitting ontop.

“Cmon” I say, grabbing my phone and purse off the counter, unlocking the bathroom. She follows behind me silently as we make our way back into the crowd. We find Topper, Kelce and Rafe in the backyard, sitting at table, with a crowd around them. I see Rafe with a stack of money in his hand, a blunt hanging out of his mouth.

Topper is laid back on the couch, head handing off the back, a bottle swinging around in his hand as he sings along to a rap song playing softly from a speaker. Kelce is railing a line, passing the little tube he used to a girl sitting on his lap. She leans down to the glass table and snorts the line. I look over at Sabrina and she shrugs. 

There’s no chairs empty for us to sit, so we stand idly around until Topper finally notices us. 

“My favorite ladies” he slurs. Sabrina giggles as he reaches out a hand and winks at her. She reaches out and he pulls her onto his lap. They start chatting about god knows what and I stand awkwardly to the side, looking around at the people starting to slowly leave as the party dies. I check my phone to see its 1:33. I hadn’t even realized how much time had passed. 

“Rafe why don’t you offer the pretty lady a seat” Topper finally says after a few minutes. He glances up at me for a second and scoffs, returning back to counting his final stack of cash before stuffing it into his backpack. Top lightly kicks him with his shoe and Rafe rolls his eyes, and pulls me down by my arm onto his lap. 

I lightly slap his face with my hand. “That was fucking rude.” I spit at him, ripping the blunt out of his mouth and putting it into mine. He stares at me in disbelief while Kelce watches in amusement. 

“Play some Cudi” I say to Topper, reaching over to grab an unopened beer bottle from the table. I hand it to Rafe to open for me, sprawling my body out more against his body. He grunts in response and cracks the top off with a bottle opener from his keychain.

“Actin like a real brat” he grumbles in my ear. I take a puff and pass it to Sabrina. I giggle and fall back into his chest.

“You love it” I sigh, my arm grabbing his bicep. My legs intertwine with Sarbina’s on the couch as we pass the blunt back and forth between each other before Rafe finally intercepts, grabbing it from my fingers, taking a quick drag. He grabs my face in his hands. I open my mouth in response and he leans closer, shot gunning the smoke into my mouth. I inhale, taking in the secondhand smoke and blow it out of my nose. 

“Wait that was cool I wanna try!” Sabrina exclaims after watching us intently. I grab the blunt from Rafe and push myself up on his lap. His hands stay placed on my waist as I lean forward and repeat the same actions Rafe just did to me. 

“Jesus” Kelce mutters, taking a drink from his bottle. Sabrina and I giggle at each other and I pass her the blunt before settling back into Rafes arms. 

“You need to get laid Kelce” Topper calls out across at him. He shakes his head.

“That’s my goal for this trip man”

“Where are you going?” I inquire, turning my head to him. The crowd has started to filter out, a few people lingering in the living room, the backporch empty except for us now. 

“Bahamas. We’ll be back for new years though. I leave Sunday” Kelce answers before finishing his beer and standing to get another one.

“Dudes totally not gonna pull” Topper jokes.

“Are you going anywhere for break?” Sabrina asks him.

“Yea we’re headed out to Fiji tomorrow, Well I guess today” he motions to the clock on the porch that shows its now 1:45am. 

“Damn. I’m just going down to the Keys” she huffs.

“You think Fiji is cool? Rafe’s going to freakin Bora Bora until schools back in session” 

“That’s still just as far” I finally remark.

I didn’t know he was leaving. I wasn’t surprised. The Cameron’s always take extravagant trips when the kids are out of school. I hadn’t asked Sarah where she was going this year, but we haven’t talked much since my birthday. I had also been avoiding her because I felt guilty about hooking up with Rafe and keeping that secret from her. 

“Where are you goin Y/N?” Topper asks. I adjust myself in Rafe’s lap, taking a swig from the bottle. 

“‘M stayin here. My family usually comes in for the holidays. They’re kind of a big deal for my mom. Both of my parents have big families and like to have them over for Christmas. It’s tradition.” 

“Damn I wish my family could stand each other to stay in a house together for the holidays” Kelce says in response as he returns, cracking open his new beer and tossing the cap onto the table. 

“I usually escape to my room after I’ve answered enough questions.” I say.

Not mentioning to the group how lonely it gets in the Outerbanks when everyone goes away. For the past few years I had been able to escape down to the cut where I would celebrate the holidays with JJ and John B, bringing them food from my family's feast and the handmade presents I made them every year. It made me sad to think I wouldn’t be allowed to see them this year. 

I also felt a ping of sadness at the thought of not seeing Rafe until we got back to school. I didn’t know why I felt this way. It’s not like we actually hung out, but I had been seeing him so often recently. 

“I think it’s time I head home” I finally say, pushing myself off Rafe’s lap.

“I can drive you.” Rafe says, starting to sit up.

“Mom said no drinking and driving.” I state, leaning down to give Sabrina a hug goodbye.

“Come see me before you leave okay?” I whisper into her ear. She nods her head, her eyes red and droopy. 

“Get her home safe” I instruct Topper. He smiles at me and waves goodbye.

“Bye Kelce” I say, waving at him before grabbing my purse off the table. Rafe is still trailing behind me as I enter the house. 

“I said no drinking and driving” I say, without turning to look at him.

“I know, I’m gonna walk you home.” I scoff and finally reach the front door, opening it and turning back to him.

“Not necessary.” I begin the shut the front door on him before he holds a hand out to stop the door.

“I said I’m walking you home.” I roll my eyes at him and start for the sidewalk. He catches up to me and stands dangerously close.

“You didn’t tell me you were leaving” I finally say after a few moments of silence.

“Thought Sarah might’ve shared that information with you.” I shake my head in response.

“What, y’all don’t talk anymore?” he asks.

“You and your friends are kind of making that hard.” I snap at him.

“I see.” he responds simply. A few more moments pass before he speaks again.

“You know we can like text and stuff”

I raise my eyebrows and turn to look at him

“Is that so?” I ask, a smile quivering on my lips. I almost want to laugh but I realize he’s being serious.

“Yea you can send me pictures of your cookies and cute little Christmas jammies and I’ll send you shirtless pictures of me on the beach.” I finally laugh and shove him lightly with my shoulder.

“I started watching Game of Thrones” he says, and I gasp in response letting out a shriek.

“AND?”

“Its actually pretty good. I downloaded some episodes to watch on the plane tomorrow.” 

“I knew you liked it.”

“I like the gore and violence. Not a fan of the incest” he says, nudging me back, a goofy smile splattered across his face.

“You get over it after a while” I say. My house not too far in the distance. 

We walk around the house and I lead the way to my side doors, turning to face Rafe, unsure of the proper way to say goodbye without making it weird. 

“You know she’ll forgive you right?” he says. I sigh and look down at the ground.  “I haven’t told anyone so she won’t find out from anyone but you, when you’re ready,” he assured me. He leans forward and places a soft kiss on my cheek. 

“See ya next year pretty girl” he says with a smirk, sending me a wink before turning around and walking out into the darkness.

Previous Chapter | Instagram AU | Next Chapter

[st-kitten]

707 pt.4 christmas special

← previous chapter next chapter →

WARNINGS: soft toji... (we all deserve it), choking, hickeys

NEXT PART COMING SOON: SMUTTIEST SMUTTY SMUT SMUTTIER THAN SMUT HAS EVER SMUTTED (hopefully)

you stood in your kitchen, making hot chocolate for yourself and megumi upon his insistence. it was early evening and megumi had woken toji up from his five hour long nap to ask him to play. and like a moody man, he dropped him off at your house, going back to bed.

so, after an hour of sketching with him and letting him play on one of your guitars, you placed him on the kitchen counter. megumi latched onto you like a slug until you agreed to make him hot chocolate. he looked at you with so much love. you had been a welcome surprise for him. he adored how you let him be himself unconditionally. you encouraged his hobbies, helped him find new ones, and you never forced him to behave. you had become his safe space too.

you let megumi decorate some cookies you'd baked with icing cream. he was truly an artist. you watched him hold the icing bag with his tiny hands and fill in the star shaped cookies.

the shelf against your door creaked and moved as toji barged inside your house (which you didn't mind of course).

"put it back in place. there's no point in that barricade if you end up pushing through it, you know..." you said from your kitchen.

toji kicked the shelf with his knee to push it back against the door. he stood, leaning against the kitchen island, eyes shifting between you and the cookies megumi showed him.

he held back a laugh watching your outfit for the day. the way you paired miscellaneous items of clothing and still came out with an outfit had his eyes glued to you. you wore fishnet tights, a brown plaid skirt, beige turtleneck and a huge cardigan that engulfed you. you felt his eyes staring at you. not staring at you, but, well, checking you out. his mind always wandered. never to bad places, but his thoughts were usually, well, dirty...

you poured an extra mug of hot chocolate for him too. you dipped your finger in megumi's mug to check how hot it was.

"i want..."

"it's boiling hot, gumi."

"gimme" he did his grabby hands, and you smirked. you held your finger out to him and he licked the steaming hot chocolate off it, flinching at its temperature. toji licked his own lips, envying his son for a solid minute. he could just keep looking at you. your lips, your hair, your eyes, your figure… god, you were beautiful. you were so, so perfect. his heart was beating hard in his chest.

"will you be a good boy and wait for it to cool down a little?"

"yes he will," said toji as he scooter over to stand behind you, hiding you from megumi's view. he had you trapped between him and the kitchen counter. as you sprayed whipped cream on the mugs, toji slid his hand under your skirt and grabbed your ass, giving it a nice squeeze. you jumped a little, startled, and dropped a spoon, his hand grasping at it and grabbing it before it hit the floor. he moved his hands to your legs, to your thighs…

"so clumsy..." his voice reverberated. you felt his hot breath on the back of your neck as his hands started to move up your legs, his lips almost touching your ear.

"you have some nerve..." you said, a shudder running down your spine.

"don't blame me."

"here," you said, handing him a mug.

you managed to escape his towering frame looming over you, and slid a mug of hot chocolate to megumi. he crushed some cookies and sprinkled them over the cream. the three of you circled the kitchen island, sipping hot chocolate and wiping cream moustaches.

"so, what's your plan today? it's christmas eve..."

"he wants to see the giant tree in the a city square. guess i gotta take him there."

"oh yeah! they go all out on the lights. this year i think they're letting people hang their own ornaments on it. it's a huge tree," you said. "come with us," he said. toji never cared much for celebrations, but it meant something to his kid and if there was one lesson he'd learned from the life he'd grown up in, was that every child deserves an innocent and fun childhood. so if it meant taking megumi out to see the sights, buying him candies or toys, or even inviting his favourite person with them, he'd do it.

"i have a delivery coming in tonight, i'll need to supervise it," you replied.

"we'll make it back in time."

"they need to set it up and all, toji..."

"y/n come with us!" megumi chirped, his eyes shining like stars.

you groaned at how cute he could get. "you're gonna be such a heartthrob, gumiiii. fine, i'll come." you ruffled his and kissed his forehead and megumi giggled with glee.

"he's got you wrapped around his finger."

"tell me about it..."

the three of you roamed around the city, looking at the sights. christmas came alive with a twinkle of lights and festive decorations. tall buildings sparkled with fairy lights, casting a warm glow across the streets. storefronts dressed up their windows with scenes of santa, snow, and elves, creating a holiday buzz. wreaths hung on each door, bells and holly tied to them.

eggnog stands popped up on corners and the air carried the scent of spices as people savoured cups of eggnog, dusted with nutmeg. megumi had the appetite of two grown men and drank a whole pint of eggnog, hogged candies, cookies, and caramel popcorn.

"he's gonna wreck havoc tonight..." said toji, picking his kid up before he spotted anything remotely edible.

"and stay knocked out the whole day tomorrow."

"i'd pay to see that," he sighed.

megumi, bundled up in a cozy jacket, marvelled at the storefronts and the twinkling lights. he loved the colours and the glow of the city.

you soon stood in front of the giant christmas tree. it was massive, draped in ribbons, tinsel, lights, and a myriad of ornaments that people brought. some were storebought, some hand-made, some hung small lockets, picture-frames, and some even hung love letters.

toji held megumi on his shoulder and let him hang a little sketch he'd made of a christmas tree.

"it looks so pretty over there, gumi!" you said, admiring it.

"are ya gonna put something on too?"

"yep," you said as you pulled out something from your purse. you stood on your toes and hung an ornament you'd created out of one of your old golden guitar picks.

"huh. nice."

"i have too many picks. thought i'd spare one... do you have anything to hang?"

"uh... sure," said toji, pulling out a vicks inhaler from his pocket.

"bruh..." you burst into laughter, swatting the fuck out of toji's arm as he messily hung the keyring on a branch, next to your pick. you took a picture of megumi with the tree and his sketch. you snuck in a few pictures of toji looking absolutely disinterested in everything. the three of you roamed around some more until you walked by the lake, frozen and decorated with lights. people were skating on the ice. megumi pulled your hand and led you to the lake.

"you wanna skate, gumi?" you asked and he nodded. so you paid for a pair of skates for you and him. before you could ask toji, he backed away and waved his hand at you.

"loser," you quipped and took megumi to the rink. the winter evening cast a gentle glow on the ice. megumi eagerly hopped from foot to foot in his skates, in anticipation.

it took a few tries to get him used to the light footing. it felt like a scissor gliding through thin paper. megumi slipped a few times, but you caught him in time, helping him regain his balance. after momentary tumbles, you hold his hand and skate across the frozen lake. your skates etched swirling patterns on the ground as you glided over the ice.

toji, leaning on the bannister that surrounded the lake, watched you from a distance. his gaze followed your every pirouette, leap, and glide. he could see you encouraging megumi from time to time. seeing you twirling around, throwing your head back laughing, and skating with his kid did nine kinds of things to toji, and they all made his heart swell, and that was his silent applause to you. you skated your way back to where toji stood, and helped megumi off the slipper ice. both your cheeks and noses were pink, and your laughs gushed out with a puff of mist.

"thought you'd fall..."

"you'd have loved to see that..."

megumi got tired of walking, so he sat atop his father shoulders. your taut walk home passed by in minutes, conversations seamlessly shifting between the trivial and the festive. megumi fell asleep on toji's shoulders, so you offered to hold him.

the three of you stood in the elevator; megumi asleep in your arms, his head resting on your shoulder, while your red handbag rested against toji's.

"sugar game was on point today. he's fast asleep."

"thank god... i can't have this brat run around all night."

"do you have to call him a brat?"

"he is..."

you rolled your eyes and stepped out as the elevator dinged and opened. the two of you were met with two delivery men standing in front of your house, alternately looking through the hole in your door.

"oh, right on time." you wade past them and open the door.

toji followed you, not liking the way the delivery men were looking at you, their eyes trailing your legs.

you asked them to come inside and go on with their work. they brought in a large parcel inside and placed it in a corner of the living room. they began unwrapping and taking their tools out, occasionally checking you out. you had megumi in your arms, so you couldn't see that.

toji, however, saw that and more. he knew what those nods and raised eyebrows meant. he wasn't one to be jealous of prawny men like them. but something about the way they looked at you made him feel... possessive about you.

"put megumi in the bed," he said, gently holding your arm, and guiding you inside.

"you okay with him sleeping here?"

"yes."

toji almost hurried you inside your room. you put megumi on the bed and tucked him in your blanket. you switched the lights off, turning around to leave.

toji caught you by your arm and pushed you against your bedroom door. before you could even respond, his lips crashed onto yours. he kissed you fiercely. he heard you whimper and gasp, but he did not stop. he grabbed your waist and pushed you against the door, pushing himself against you, harder. he pulled away for a second, allowing you to breathe. he didn't need any lights to see your swollen lips and dim expression. he tilted his head and kissed your neck, feeling your arms grab his shoulder defensively. toji brought one hand to your throat and wrapped his fist around it. he began sucking at your neck. his hands, and his mouth could feel your gulps and panting heartbeats. the urge to consume you had taken over him as he started biting your soft neck. the whimpers and moans that left your mouth were music to his ears. your hot and heavy breathing and the way your throat felt in his vice-like claw sent him to a boiling point. his teeth dug into your flesh softly. his hold over your throat tightened and your breathless moans only encouraged him to bite harder. he wanted to take you then and there... but he had a statement to make.

he pulled away, much to his reluctance.

"what was that for..." you asked, panting, feeling blood rise in your neck. not that you were complaining.

toji pulled you aside and opened the door to your room. he led the two of you outside. he went straight to your kitchen and downed a glass of water.

you were still coming down from the high he'd put you through. you sauntered into the living room to check on your parcel. pleased to see it put together, you leaned against the wall, watching the delivery men clean up their tools.

they turned around to look at you and the mischievous grins they had earlier faltered away into thin lines of disappointment.

"it's done, ma'am."

"thank you." you were about to reach for your purse on the kitchen island when toji stood beside you, snaking his hand around your waist.

"that looks great, sweetheart," he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

you almost rocketed through the roof. what the fuck is wrong with him...

the two men awkwardly waited in your living room, hoping you'd give them a holiday season tip or offer them refreshments.

the door to your bedroom opened and megumi stepped out, awoken by your conversations. rubbing his eye, he trudged to his father. toji knelt down in front of him, ruffling his hair.

megumi looked up at you... he asked, "what happened y/n?", pointing to your neck.

you had no idea what he was talking about. all you heard was toji whispering something to megumi.

"you see those men, megs? they hurt y/n... they've been bad boys..." he looked at you and threw a wink.

like a rabid puppy, megumi dashed at the two delivery men, flapping his arms at their legs. stunned and perplexed, they began backing away. megumi bit one guy's calf and he yelped in pain, running away, crashing into his partner. the two scurried out of your house, colliding into the walls.

"gumi! what... why would you do that?" you swatted toji's arm and he draped it across your shoulder.

he brought his lips close to your ear and whispered in a sultry voice, "well, my girl ain't available... someone's gotta teach those boys how to behave..."

megumi came back to you and asked if you were okay.

"yes, you... anklebiter..." you chuckled and assured him you were just... damn... fine.

"what were they here for anyway?"

you held toji's hand and brought him to your living room.

"i swear you act like you're blind sometimes..." you said, pointing to a large mantlepiece piano resting against the living room window.

"i was looking at you..." he shrugged.

megumi, like a curious cat, inspected the piano. he'd only seen grand pianos on tv and in malls. he'd never seen one like that.

"can you play?" he asked.

"sure! why not!" you agreed happily and sat down at the piano. opening the lid that covered it, you turned it on, and checked all the pedals once.

you began playing some chords softly, setting the tune, hoping to transition it to some song. well, it was christmas eve and you felt mildly grateful for the year. you also felt pleasant knowing that toji liked you for real. that he didn't turn out to be a one night-stand or a lesson learned.

slowly, you thought of a song to play. the ivory keys obeyed your fingers as you played chords familiar to most people your age. by habit, you began singing the song you were playing.

you smiled at megumi, who was glued to the side of the piano, looking at you with heart eyes.

as you reached the poignant peak, toji stepped forward, a barely noticeable smirk playing on his lips and bent down. without uttering a word, he began to sing, his voice carrying the lyrics with an unexpected depth and resonance. your eyes widened in astonishment, fingers still pressing the keys.

you had been accustomed to the solace of your music for so long that you were caught unawares by toji harbouring a hidden talent, let alone the fact that he knew the lyrics to the song. his voice croaked at a high note, but as the first few lines escaped his lips, your initial shock gave way to a mixture of disbelief and delight.

"you're my, my, my, my..."

"lover..."

your eyes met like strangers on an opportune day. you gave him a soft, affectionate smile and he gave you his cocky grin.

megumi's claps snapped your from your trance. you ruffled his hair. he asked you if he could play too and you helped him sit on the stool, adjusting it to increase the height. so while megumi played random keys, you stood beside toji, watching him.

"who the fuck introduced you to taylor swift?"

toji clutched his forehead, hiding his face with his hand. he knew this was coming. he could hear your contain your squeal.

"hold it in."

"i can't..."

"please..."

"but-"

"don't make a big deal out of it."

"can i please make a big deal out of it?"

he made the mistake of looking at you. oh, how could he refuse when you were staring at him with innocent doe eyes?

he sighed.

"you like her. so..."

"you listened to taylor swift for me?"

toji just groaned in response, hiding his face again. he felt you throw your arms around his neck. he wasted no time in hugging your waist, burying his head in the crook of your neck... the one with a bold hickey he'd marked you with not minutes ago.

"i got you a gift," he whispered in your ear.

"oh?"

toji took something out of his pocket as you pulled away, his arm still around your waist. it was shabbily wrapped in a golden gift paper.

you chuckled and took it, slowly unwrapping it.

"awww, toji, you big old softie..."

you hugged him again, pressing a kiss to his cheek; your arms around his neck, hands holding a brand new doorknob.

(im dying at the way toji says “lover…”)

taglist @amaiyasha @szillx @ruixrei @maddypaddyladdy

[matchamiko]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Warnings: fox quirk!reader, muzzling, injuries (scratched knees). Touya is around 9 and reader is about 10.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ note: I got some inspo for my oc nd decided to turn it into an insert, it’s very self-indulgent nd actually part of something a little bigger I wanna do T-T

It was a little bit rude of you to interrupt his outside playing, his scooter time in the street outside his house. It was his time to be silly and race the shadows of the pigeons flying above him, his time to scuff his knees and stick his tongue out at the kids walking home from after school club. But you ruined it with your whimpering and pitiful crying, somewhere behind the across-the-street-neighbour’s bins. 

Touya crunches to a halt beside the boxes and cans, hearing shuffling and whining the closer he rolls towards them. He intents to tell you off, that this is his street and not yours, that kids play hide n seek down at the park or in their gardens, and he also intends to chase you away on his scooter, showing you how fast and how crazy he is,

“You’re not allowed back here, it’s dirty and not yours,” he begins, lisp pronounced with the absence of one of his front teeth, “You need to go away,” Touya squats and pushes a bin bag out of the way, socked feet and a plush tail appearing before him. You’re cowering, eyes glistening with tears and nose running, short pointed fangs glinting in the amber light of the afternoon sun. Instead of letting his scooter drop to the floor, Touya gently lowers it to rest against a box of recycling, icicle eyes never leaving yours. You start to cry again when he doesn’t say anything, silent with a wobbling chin. 

There’s a heavy wire muzzle over the lower half of your face. Leather straps cut into your cheeks and stretch over your head between two powdery orange ears tipped in black, flattened to your hair and quivering all over. 

Touya doesn’t say anything, shuffling forwards slowly, grit scratching under his trainers and you, at first, flinch as if about to flee. But there’s something in the way he holds out his sticky fingers and prods the grazes on your knees, face soft and curious and boyish. 

“Did a bully do that?” he’s referring to the muzzle, voice soft and you shrink in on yourself, hiding in the shadows of the bins, “I can help take it off, I bet it hurts alot,”

Your eyes are sharp and calculating, afraid and still flooded with tears, 

“M-my tea-cher,” you stutter through sobs, “I accident-tally scratched -,” you gulp in several heaving hiccups, “I hurt-ed someone, accidentally!” 

Touya spots the short, almost blunt claws at the ends of your fingers, looking more like the long nails his mom would get painted at the salon sometimes. He sits lower in his squat, chin leaning on his folded arms over his knees, watching you and your tail that twitches and flicks to and fro. He knows from watching cats that at least you seem less agitated, allowing him to come closer on his knees and reach for the muzzle, 

“I’m Touya, and my house is just that one there,” he offers just like his mom did when she was dressing a cut knee, talking over the pain and shame just as he knows you must feel, “Do you like banana milk? Mom’s got some in the fridge, you want some? It’ll make you feel better I think,” you allow him to touch you, nine year old hands fumbling with the heavy metal clasps behind your head, “makes me feel better when I get a bad grade at school, or if stupid Natsu’ is being stupid,”

The muzzle comes free and he throws it to the floor, the two of you staring at it with fear and repulsion. After a moment, Touya picks it up again and takes it over to the general waste bin, dumping it unceremoniously into the filthy depths. 

“D’you want that milk then?” you’re crawling out from behind the rubbish, ears up and twitching when he picks up his scooter, “I would get you some plasters for your knees but - wait,” Touya thrusts his toy at you, ignoring your yelp as you catch it clumsily, the handle jutting into your cheek, “I can go get some! Mom left the box on the table!” 

He trips as he rushes through the gate, a little oof! making you giggle into your hand and sending a rosy flush to his cheeks, “Don’t play on my scooter! It’s special!” he doesn’t see you nod, disappearing into his house with a shout of his brother’s name. 

It takes him a little while to return, the sun beginning its descent and the streetlights flickering on while you wait patiently with his scooter. You’ve seen kids at school playing with them, riding them to school far ahead of their parents or older siblings and it makes you a little resentful towards the sleek black car that drops you off every morning and picks you up every afternoon. Except for today. You ran away today, not even taking your school bag, ignoring the shouts of the driver and his panicked phone calls. Tears threaten again and you scrub them away, feeling the welts of the muzzle still present on your cheeks, and it’s Touya’s return that shakes you out of your misery. 

“I got a lot of stuff, but I gotta be quick cause it’s getting dark and dad’ll be so mad,” he shudders at the thought, careful not to trip over the step this time and you catch the carton of banana milk that falls from his arms. Touya drops everything to the floor away; several plasters with aliens on them, a damp dish cloth that has grit on it now, a chocolate bar and a second carton of milk, this one mango flavoured. He squats down to brush off the rag, flicking your skirt out of the open wounds on your knees, cleaning them roughly and a little terribly, sending tears spurting out of your eyes again, 

“Oh m’sorry,” he says quietly, looking up at you and frowning at you rubbing wetly at your cheeks, but you nod through it, encouraging him, “I’ll put the plasters on now, they’re my actual favourite, and you can drink the milk by the way, I got it for you,”

You juggle his scooter and the straw for the milk, successfully piercing the cardboard and sipping with a sniffly nose, giggling when Touya points out his favourite alien and then his least favourite one, blobby and red (“looks like Natsu’ when he was born”). Then, after criss crossing your knees with plasters, he tells you all about his recent birthday and how his scooter was his absolute best present ever, how he’s ridden it every day after school and also on the weekends,

“If you wanna ride it, you can! You don’t cry all loud and gross like the little kids so you’re not that annoying,” Touya stands and opens up the chocolate bar, halving it very badly and handing the larger piece to you, “You could come round tomorrow after school, unless you have a club or study or something but if you don’t come inside, then dad won’t mind,”

“I don’t do clubs after school,” you say with a scratchy voice, “m’not allowed,”

“Oh,” his mouth is full of chocolate and he swallows loudly, goo stuck to his upper lip, “well, that’s okay, that means you can come and play whenever you want, I think I like you alot so I don’t mind if you wanna use it but you are not allowed to go faster than me, I’m the fastest,” Touya’s threat is empty and followed by a big gummy grin, teeth brown and sugary. You nudge him and laugh with your belly, chomping on your own snack and drinking your milk with crinkled eyes, 

“You’re funny Touya, and you're really nice, I think I like you too,”

all rights reserved © matchamiko. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[burst-of-iridescent]

Aang was indeed a bad father. It's way past time we stopped making excuses for him.

An all too common defense for Aang is the fact that he's a monk and is not well-versed in how parenting looks. Yeah! No shit! But do you know who is well-versed? Katara! They talk as if Aang is a single parent like Toph but he is not. Katara's been on Aang's side since the day they met, always stood up for him, always complimented him.

Is this really the thanks she gets? Are they really that disinterested in explaining Katara's side of the story? As if her not getting a statue wasn't insulting enough.

Another major flaw in this defense is that Aang is not just a monk. He's the avatar. This means, part of mastering all elements also means embodying all of the ideologies based on said elements. That includes elements/ideologies completely opposite of his own. His daughter's crack about Aang "cutting and running when things get tough" shows that he's learned absolutely nothing.

We never truly see him master all the elements, he just gets them and, more or less, calls it a day. I'm even beginning to doubt that he's truly mastered his default airbending and he just got his tattoos prematurely because the monks were impressed with his scooter invention.

Zuko got the privilege of understanding the ideologies of other nations, allowing him to grow, and unlearn any toxic masculinity lessons through them, and would blow a gasket if he ever saw a kid get mistreated by a parent in any way. Is it really any wonder why Zuko is the more popular character and the most requested choice for Katara, in comparison to Aang?

using the "but he was a monk!" argument to excuse aang's bad parenting is fucking baffling to me. even leaving aside that aang did have a father figure (or are we collectively ignoring monk gyatso?), i don't think you need to witness fatherhood in action to understand that showing preferential treatment to one of your children is a messed up thing to do. that seems like the kind of thing that should be common sense, especially when you're best friends with the guy who's walking proof of what happens when you play favourites with your kids.

truthfully, i also don't fully agree with katara being able to compensate for aang's supposed lack of knowledge. while i do believe katara was a good mother, and i don't think it was her responsibility to teach her own husband how to be a good parent, i have my doubts about how much, if ever, katara called aang out on his behaviour towards bumi and kya. if their relationship in atla was any indication, i suspect katara very much turned a blind eye (or at most tried to gently suggest that aang pay more attention to bumi and kya) to aang's flaws in this area, as she (unfortunately) does in most others. that's one of the reasons i was never able to get onboard with kat.aang, because katara is the only one of the gaang who is never able to meaningfully challenge aang, even when he desperately needs it. (the only time i recall her trying to push him to do something he doesn't want is in sozin's comet when the fate of the literal world depended upon it. not a good omen, methinks.)

the katara we knew in atla might not have idly sat by while aang favored his airbending child over the others, but the seeds for who she turns out to be in lok are already planted. it's not a stretch to see how katara's blind faith in aang, and her unwillingness to confront his flaws, could have easily led her down the path to the woman who would fail to stop her husband from neglecting two of their children.

it's no surprise that aang in lok is repeating all the same mistakes he did in atla, because his character arc came to a screeching halt at the start of book 3 and was never picked back up again. how are we meant to believe that aang ever became the avatar (yknow, the embodiment of all four nations in one) when he was still, at the very end of the show, prioritizing the values of one nation over the others?

truly the shocker of the century that people might prefer katara to be with a character who had a believable arc with well-written development and a satisfying conclusion, instead of the narrative equivalent of a brick wall.

[were-my-demons-hide]

Okay I did it! So proud ♡

I didn't skate that much. There were many scooter kids and I didn't vibe with the park. The obvious park lines weren't matching my needs. But I tried some kickturns on different ramps and had so much fun! I didn't care who looked at me. I didn't care about all the people.

I did care about the kids. Some of them kept bumping into each other. Toddlers on tiny pedal bikes without helmets or any protection. I was shocked.

One little boy (maybe 6 or 7) yelled at me because he thought I cut through his line. But he was coming up from behind me. I couldn't see him and it would have been his turn to wait. But there were no parents to help him be safe at the park. We handled the situation pretty good.

It was freaking busy, hustle and bustle over there. It stressed me a little. But I was okay.

Huge step in the right direction. If I keep confronting my social anxiety it will get better and better. ♡

Tomorrow I will overcome my anxiety and go to a new skatepark! It is at the beach. It will be warm and sunny. The park will be crowded. But I need to push myself and get better at handling people!

Let's go me! Do what you love. ♡

[mammalsofaction]

Hi I wanted to ask you about a fanfic idea? You don’t have to answer this but I have a couple ideas and I’ve been to busy to really put it to use.

You know in the movie into the 2nd dimension where Perry’s able to hold up 2 kids, 1 teen, and a fully grown evil scientist. I thought of the idea of what would happen if his host family saw that or if he got a bit to rough with Dr d during a fight.

You might have already had this idea or have even already done it but i thought it would be a fun short fic or something.

Early Days

Rating: G

Relationships: Bg Lawrence Fletcher/Linda Flynn-Fletcher

Characters: Linda Flynn-Fletcher, Lawrence Fletcher, Perry the Platypus, Heinz Doofenshmirtz mentioned, Flynn Fletcher siblings mentioned

Add tags: Non graphic depiction of violence, non graphic depiction of injuries, family feels, light angst, PnF S1 Hail Doofania, human Perry the Platypus, mute Perry the Platypus

A/N: This takes place in the early days of Perry and Heinz's nemesis ship. In the episode Hail Doofania in S1, Perry spends almost the entire episode wearing a protective collar. His flashback shows us that Heinz pushed him down a sandpaper making factory that tore up the fur on his body, making Linda suspect he's scratching himself up due to some sort of rash.

In the human!Perry version, I take this further to mean that he's wearing some sort of neck brace, meaning that Heinz had--at some point early in their relationship--had hurt him quite bad. I thought it's fitting to fulfil the ask. Perry still calls Heinz 'Doofenshmirtz'.

This fic mainly centres around Perry's relationship with Linda and Lawrence, and how they worry for him. The boys are maybe 5 years old here, making Candace 10.

If you want to understand the reference to Ferb's mom, i recommend reading my human Perry lore post linked in my pinned post.

Im sorry this took so long @salty-frenchfry . Between life happening and my laptop going Ka-put, finding the time to properly address this ask took longer than I'd like. I never forgot it though! I hope this little short is ok 😭

---

In his line of work, injuries were unavoidable.

Often times, they were easy enough to hide. Bruises were most common. Perry's long since taken to keeping a spare set of make-up with a replenishable bottle of concealer on his person, whether that be the dash of his hovercar or the storage box beneath the seat of his scooter. And what the concealer couldn't hide, his sleeves and long trouser pants could.

He's good enough at what he does. That being said, sometimes Doofenshmirtz gets a lucky shot.

Linda stormed into his private ward like an avenging angel, and Lawrence trails behind her in a more sedate, nevertheless eager pace. The nurse, as well as a be-suited nameless OWCA insurance representative slips out silently to leave him to their harried concerns, though not before the former sends him a small smile for good luck. The married couple barely notices.

"What happened?" Linda demands. Lawrence makes himself at home in the bedside chair, letting his wife take charge of the mother henning for now. "The hospital told us you'd gotten involved in a car accident? Oh Perry, your handsome face." She cried, bottom lip wobbling, and if Perry didn't have his left hand in a cast and his body completely leaden with drugs, he would have reached out to reassure her. As it was, he could only attempt to do what he can with a strained smile.

He hadn't known, until this point, what excuse OWCA had given the Flynn Fletchers to obfuscate the circumstances surrounding the severity of his injuries, but he really should have guessed. OWCA loved car accidents. In truth, he'd lost his balance over the edge of a rooftop while fighting with Doofenshmirtz, and he'd somehow managed to push Perry over. Perry had fallen through a roof of a sandpaper making factory, down 20 feet onto some crates and toppling heavy machinery. He'd almost broken his neck, fractured his left wrist, dislocated his left knee joint (the side that had broken his fall) and his face looks like he'd gone 5 rounds with Mohammad Ali. Thankfully he'd found he'd managed to thwart Doofenshmirtz's scheme anyway (he'd thrown a shoe into the revealed gearwork of his Unpaved-Inator, a machine designed to revert paved walk lanes into unstable cobbled paths. As if Danville didn't suffer from enough sabotage in terms of accessible walkable infrastructure), so at the very least, it was not a complete failure. The paperwork would've been impossible, instead of just insufferable.

He'd been given a voice to text machine by his bedside by his functional hand, a small voice box in respect to his disability, and he uses it to lie in it's emotionless vaguely feminine robotic voice. "T-boned into a truck running a red light." He says. OWCA would take this lie and run with it later. "Thrown onto the road. Think it slipped."

Linda and Lawrence made appropriately sympathetic noises. When Perry lolled his head to the side, he realizes his brother-in-law looks far more haggard than he'd initially noticed; red rimmed eyes and a glassy smile. Stiff upper lip. Well. Ferb had gotten it from someone. "You'd scared the children out of their wits, Perry." He says quietly, likely to conceal the shaking in his voice. "They're waiting in the car as we speak. None of us had quite the appetite for dinner after we'd gotten the news."

The strained smile slips into a slightly more sincere, more painful smirk. "Just the kids?" Perry asked, and Lawrence barks in laughter that sounds far too similar to a sob.

He can't imagine what he sees, what it must've been for him to have gotten the news. OWCA had told him it was a car accident too, for Ferb's mother nearly 5 years ago to the dot, now.

He'd not even got to see the body, then.

His heart squeezes in guilt, an all too familiar ache. Lawrence had been through enough: the point of a stable nemesis ship was to avoid injuries of such a caliber. To provide stability, safety. Security. Perry didn't want Linda, didn't want the kids, to ever worry about whether he would come home, especially not with the line of work he tells them he's involved in.

A gentle knock on the door heralds a familiar face: a specialist Perry had seen once or twice walking down the corridors of OWCA's medical bay as an emergency field medic, sans the white fedora with a red band denoting his position within the organisation.

This time he was simply wearing a signature Doctor's lab coat, holding a clipboard and flanked by a pocky young adult in scrubs, buzzing with caffeine. "Flynn-Fletchers?" He requested gently. Linda makes an affirmative noise, and the duo welcomes themselves inside the ward with that familiar professional smile.

"He's got banged up pretty bad out there." The doctor offers in a vague, sympathetic manner. "Has he told you what happened?"

Perry thinks he sees Lawrence and Linda share an unreadable look. "A car accident." Lawrence echoes hesitantly. "With a truck?"

The unnamed doctor nods, writing something down on his clipboard, likely the cover story he would need to report back to Francis shortly. "The impact had broken his collar bones and given him a mild concussion." He reports. The pocky nurse at hands out a print of Perry's X-ray reports, and Perry watches the married couple analyse the given print like it was anything comprehensible. "He'd landed on his left side, fracturing his left wrist, up to the back of his ulna, so we're casting it for now. No surgery beyond the one we've done to his collarbones immediately upon his arrival to the AnE, which has already been covered by his work insurance."

This seems to surprise Linda. " As an accountant?"

The doctor doesn't even blink. "Seems like it. Good health insurance plan. We're assigning him to a couple more days in the hospital to watch over his condition, and about 2 months bedrest before he can go back to work. If everything goes smoothly, we can discharge him by the end of the week. Any questions?"

"Paid vacation?"

It's a question asked through the robotic monotone of Perry's given voicebox. The doctor gives Perry a secretive, sympathetic smile for the unspoken concerns he understands far too well. "I'm afraid you will have to ask your superiors. My influence remain within these walls, I'm afraid. But I'll put in a good word."

Perry sighs. It comes out weaselly and creaky, and Lawrence reaches forward to squeeze his uninjured shoulder in reassurance. "Thanks, doc." Perry says, because he wasn't an animal.

"My pleasure." He says, which must've been some sort of cue. The pocky nurse moves to exit, leaving them with the X-Ray prints, and holding the door open. "I'll let you get your rest, and you may refer to Consultation for any questions regarding visitation hours. We'll be able to greenlight him tomorrow."

Linda and Lawrence thank him, watching him leave before they redirect their attention back to Perry's prone form.

Linda has her lips pursed in displeasure. "Your boss doesn't really want you back so soon after your accident, would they?"

Perry sighs again. This time, the exhales brings his attention to his parched throat. "I can't say." He types into the voicebox. It's not the answer she was looking for, he can tell from the continued sour look of her face. Lawrence face becomes even more pained.

"Can you promise you won't be doing this again?" He requests, and while his throat and his guilt tears him from the inside out, Perry lets himself chuckle lightly.

"I can't help these things, Lawrence."

The silence that follows is heavy with things Perry feels they're both keeping from each other. Linda sits heavily in the chair next to her husband, and reaches out to squeeze his hand, hanging limply by the armrest. Lawrence looks him in the eye, pointedly silent, and he smiles something wane and unreadable.

"No," he says. "No, I don't suppose you can."

[fanaticsnail]

Kid-Pirate Dance Party

Okay, ever since I wrote the "Longing" fic for Eustass Kid x Reader, I have the feral urge to go clubbing with the Kid-Pirates. I feel like they'd be so much fun to dance with. Just look at 'em. Look at the crew.

Here's some songs I feel like they'd be down with.

Slower Hip Swinging:

Heat: Purple Hat - Sofi Tucker

Killer: Holdin' On - Flume

Wire: Ride It - Regard

Kid: Roses - SAINt JHN, Imanbek

Faster Pace:

Heat: The Logical Song - Scooter

Killer: Banana Brain - Die Antwoord

Wire: Encore Une Fois - Sash! Future Breeze

Kid: Push Up - Creeds

All Spotify links on the titles if you want to have a cheeky dance.

[tumblydovereviews]

Primos Was Okay (And That's Okay!)

On Thursday, after over a year of controversy, delays, and pushback from the general public, Primos finally premiered on Disney Channel, to a surprisingly stable reception.

First of all, congratulations to the cast and crew for the premiere! For a show that was on such unstable waters just a year back, it's great to see that Primos has seen the light of day and not simply became a tax write-off.

As anyone involved in the animation community in June 2023 may recall, Primos' initial response was not great in the slightest, and for good reason. Based on solely the theme song alone, the show featured grammatical errors, unintentionally insensitive names, and was dismissed by others as Disney's cheap copy of The Casagrandes. Comments from cast members such as Tater's voice actor herself only added fuel to the fire. The show, initially set to drop in the fall of that same year, was delayed to January, then June as a precursor to the Big City Greens movie, and finally, July of 2024.

I personally didn't care for the Primos drama too much. Sure, I liked the theme song's beat and for a while it became an earworm, but I wasn't looking too closely at being a consistent viewer on the show. I was mixed on the artstyle, the characters, and the plot, which, while not awful by any means, weren't anything amazing as well.

But, with nothing else to do, I ultimately decided to view the first episode of Primos on YouTube the day after the big debut.

And, the show was serviceable.

The characters weren't annoying, and there were some moments that made me chuckle a bit. The songs were serviceable, and the themes on self-discovery are unique. But, ultimately, I don't see myself with any reason to really engage with this show outside of just watching a few episodes. The story of Primos is all there, but on its own, it's just there.

If there's any character I truly hated, it was Tater and Nellie's mother, Bibi. Knowing fully well she didn't have the time or effort to efficiently take care of twelve kids on top of her two daughters and baby son, yet inviting then over anyways for the sake of 'memories' instead of listening to her kids. No wonder they address her by her first name.

As for characters I liked, I honestly enjoyed the three most 'normal' Primos in my opinion: Lita, Scooter, and Lucita. They get along well and have acceptable personalities. I can especially relate to Scooter and his anxiety, as a person who gets quite nervous themselves sometimes. Also, shout-out to Lucita, who's deaf and actually communicates through ASL on the occasion. Deaf representation is lacking in media, and I love how this show is helping us move one step further in that regard.

I also enjoyed Nellie as a character as well; it is admittedly a but weird how she's an eight-year-old with a Luisa-deep voice but her chemistry with Tater is great.

As for Tater herself, she's okay. She server her purpose as the disgruntled almost ten-year-old trying to find herself. Nothing too much or too little. I can relate to her in the sense of needing peace and quiet away from cousins; my cousins actually moved into my own house temporarily last year for a few months,

i talk about characters a lot in this show, because I believe that it's Primos' best achievement. In a way, each of the characters work off of Tater in their own way, keeping the show fresh and upbeat, but not being afraid to scale things back when needed. I thought that the Primos would act as nothing but plot devices whose only merit is to ruin Tater's life, but, thankfully, that's not the case.

Now, what about this show being mediocre? It can't be all that good, right?

Well, like I said before, the animation and art designs are not my favorites. I can't push back too much since the rough, earthy tone translate into the series as a whole, but personal preference is also a factor. The music and songs, while good for what they are, don't add anything too much to the series and I personally would have preferred if this show wasn't a musical al all; Disney Channel admittedly has plenty of those nowadays.

And, that essentially encapsulates my feelings on Primos as a while. On its own, it works for what it has, but compared to shows with similar plots such as The Loud House, it only holds a candle compared to the latter's sun.

And, you know what? That's okay. If anything, it's a miracle that a show detested so much by the general public during its initial preview became nothing but a mediocre addon at worst.

Maybe I'll tune into a few more episodes to fully solidify my thoughts on this show. But, for now, I'll only be an occasional onlooker exploring the world of Tater Ramirez Humphrey and company. I'm okay with that, and I'm sure you'll be okay too.

[lilbagdermole]

Hello! It's always great to meet another Taang shipper!

What do you love most about Taang?

I hope you have a great day!!!

Hey!!

Oh, it's so nice to see that Taang is still loved by so many people (and it's always really nice to see active blogs about them ^^)

What do I love most about Taang?

I love their dynamics. They bounce off each other almost harmoniously, because they are opposites in so many aspects of their lives: beliefs and morals, elements, backgrounds and childhoods. They clash and struggle and are far from perfect, yet, no matter how big the storm, how complex the disagreement - they always reconcile, they always listen to one another, they always learn and grow and strive to become better people. They respect one another so much to work around their oppositions and thus balance and understand one another in ways that no other member of the ATLA cast can replicate (with Aang and Toph).

And though they are natural opposites, they still have so much in common if you delve deeper. Aang and Toph are the youngest in the Gaang - and share the same love for teasing and joking; they share a very deep connection with the the original benders of their respective elements (Toph with the Badgermoles and Aang with Appa); they both runaway from their homes at a young age because of paramount expectations; both are masters of their bending - even inventing a new form/bending style at 12 years-old (air scooter and metalbending).

Aang represented all Toph needed in her life - freedom, loyalty, companionship and a friend. He saw her beyond her perceived weakness and never underestimated her capabilities as an earthbender and his potential master. He taught her to trust and confide, understood her when no other person did and soften the hard edges that she'd constructed to protect herself from her suffocating reality. In a sense, Aang was a breath of fresh air in her life.

Toph, on the other hand, represented all Aang needed - stability, confidence, strength. Aang, being the Avatar, had been coddled and protected by almost everyone - Katara, Sokka, admirers, etc. He wasn't Aang, he was a symbol - a symbol of hope and peace. But Toph didn't care about his divine-like power, didn't care that everyone around him praised the very ground he stepped on - in Toph's perspective, Aang was Aang. A kid just like her and she treated him as equals; never afraid of pushing him to further his growth; she taught him to stand his ground, face his enemies head on, become a stronger, confident bender. She was the ground that anchored him to the mortal world and made him feel normal.

It's also poetic, in the finale - Toph is in the air whilst Aang is mostly on Earth. And, may I add, that at the end, whilst Zuko and Katara ultimately did teach him plenty so he could face the Firelord, Aang's preferred bending style, that was not his own, was Earthbending. The element that had once stumped him, frustrated him; the hardest element to master, his opposite... and now, he used it to protect himself, to shield and fight. He used every technique Toph taught him - rock armor, crushing earth, even seismic sense... Toph ultimately saved Aang during the Finale.

I can go on and on about them, but I'm in the midst of writing a dissertation on Toph and Aang's development and potential in ATLA - so I'll save most of my thoughts for that whenever I get to completing it.

And... let's be honest. Aang and Toph together just look so beautiful. They would be the IT COUPLE in ATLA - their canonical height difference should be reason enough to stan Taang. Avatar and The World's Greatest Earthbender... come on now! And it would just fit right - Aang as an adult would have to travel the world and Toph would gladly travel alongside him since she doesn't have a "home" (Aang is her home); and, as adults they could built Republic City from the ground up whilst also balancing raising a family... UGH! IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO GOOD!!!

[magnusstan]

Kevin and Nico in the NY Times …

Kev on thinking he has time to be a Dad, getting called back to F1, priorities shifting, Laura liking the car, being torn about his kids being on socials and being neighbours with most of his family when they bought a house in his hometown …

BAHRAIN, BAHRAIN - MARCH 1: Kevin Magnussen of Denmark and Haas F1, wife Louise Gjorup and their daughters in the paddock during qualifying ahead of the F1 Grand Prix of Bahrain. (Photo by Kym Illman/Getty Images)

By Madeline Coleman

Jun 15, 2024

Just behind the Formula One teams’ motorhomes inside the Monaco Grand Prix paddock, fans leaned over a fence, trying to catch a glimpse of their favorite driver. As various drivers passed by, they inevitably missed some fans’ requests for selfies and autographs.

But Laura Magnussen wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

The three-year-old pushed her red scooter down the road behind a Haas team member and her father, Kevin Magnussen. When she realized he missed a fan’s autograph request, Laura scooted up to Kevin and tugged at his shirt, grabbing his attention and pointing at the fan. Kevin backtracked and signed the notebook, Laura pushing her scooter behind him.

It was just the latest of many moments featuring one of Magnussen’s two daughters to go viral on social media. Although plenty of team personnel, track employees and media members have families back home, Magnussen, teammate Nico Hülkenberg and Red Bull’s Sergio Pérez are the only parents on the grid.

Motorsports are ruthless and dangerous, a cutthroat sport where every millisecond and millimeter count. As elite athletes like F1 drivers rise to the top of their respective sports, the focus largely is centered on them.

That is until a little one comes along, radically changing how the adults approach life.

“It changed a lot of my priorities, like my perspective on life and my career and sport, and made everything else seem less important,” Magnussen said. “There’s always pressure on the drivers and also a bit of an anxiety where you think, ‘If I can’t be racing, then what am I? What do I do with my life?’

“Whereas now, that side of it is all settled in a way. I know if I’m not racing, then I have a fantastic life anyway.”

Magnussen didn’t initially intend to have kids while racing in F1.

He joined the grid full-time in 2014 but lost his seat to Fernando Alonso a year later. Magnussen found a full-time seat for 2016 and was out of a seat again after the 2020 season. He moved on to the lower profile world of IMSA. Rather than traveling the globe and competing during 20-plus weekends a year, he raced in sports cars in North America at places like Belle Isle in Michigan and Watkins Glen in New York. He competed in nine races that season and had no marketing or simulator duties, he said.

“I thought (the) timing was perfect because I finished my Formula One career, I thought, and it was the right moment,” Magnussen said. “We had a fantastic year. The next two years were fantastic, too, but in a much different way than I expected it to be.”

In January 2021, shortly before Magnussen flew to the U.S. for IMSA, he and Louise Gjørup Magnussen welcomed Laura into the world, born seven weeks early.

Hülkenberg was in a similar position when he and his wife, Eglė Ruškytė-Hülkenberg, had their daughter, Noemi Sky. “I was kind of a little bit out of the hot seat, and I had more time. Life was a bit more relaxed,” he said.

“My wife said I was always in a good mood because I didn’t have the bad days of the race weekend. You cut out the bad days, and you’re always kind of happy and balanced and well because we take this pretty seriously, this job, and if we have a bad weekend, it can tend to take up to a week to digest it, and obviously it impacts your mood.”

But when he returned to the grid full-time in 2023 with Haas, Hülkenberg said being a father didn’t change his approach, just that his life now revolved more around his family, as well as racing.

“I think racing drivers, the way we are wired, when you get in the car and when you put the helmet on the visor down, you forget all that. You don’t really think about it, and it’s just a blank mind,” he said. “You’re solely focused on performance and getting the best possible result. So no, I don’t think it’s changed my approach in the car. But outside, it takes a lot of focus and time being a dad.”

Sporting bright pink headphones and an all white outfit, Noemi Sky beamed as Nico and Eglė walked through the Monaco paddock, swinging their daughter in the air. On her feet were a pair of decorated shoes in honor of her father, one reading “Go Daddy” and the number two, and the other “Noemi Sky” and the number seven. (Her name came from both parents: Hülkenberg liked Noemi after seeing it in movie credits on a flight with his wife, while Eglė really liked Sky).

Bringing kids trackside takes a lot of planning, Hülkenberg said. Their schedules need to be factored in, like how to squeeze in naps at a noisy track. He added, “If you’re away from home and you have the hotel and it’s far away from the circuit, you really have to make sure you have all the toys and the iPad or whatever to get through the day.”

MONTE-CARLO, MONACO - MAY 25: Haas F1 driver Nico Hulkenberg is accompanied by his wife Egle and daughter Noemi during previews ahead of the F1 Grand Prix of Monaco. (Kym Illman/Getty Images)

Nico Hülkenberg said being a father didn’t change his racing approach, just that his life now revolved more around his family, as well as racing.

Magnussen finds it both “fantastic” and “frustrating because I’m too busy to really spend a lot of time with them. My kids think they’re on holiday.” Anges is nearly one year old and has visited the paddock before. Laura now understands that her father is racing, which is something she looks forward to, he said.

“She loves being in the garage and watching the car and all that. But still, she gets frustrated that I’m not available for the whole weekend. She wants to swim in the pool, and she wants to explore the place that we’ve come to, and I can’t do that. I’m just too busy.”

Magnussen says his oldest daughter isn’t intimidated by the loud sounds that come with the sport, and when she is in the garage, she wants to be close to the car. “She loves it, I think, because she knows that this is what daddy does, and she can be proud of the world that I go into every time I leave them alone.”

Over the past few years, Laura’s become a recognizable figure in the paddock, often going viral on social media, like when she helped her father prepare in Abu Dhabi last year. With her headset on, she helped Magnussen out on his gloves and closed his visor.

Magnussen’s social media accounts are run by his team, but his wife shows him the content of their daughters when it pops up. “It’s something that I feel divided about,” the Dane said.

“Laura doesn’t understand that millions of people are watching this and she didn’t consent to that. Also I feel like it’s a lot of people. Laura has been recognized, and I feel like she didn’t ask for that. I don’t feel too good about it,” Magnussen continued. “But at the same time, I think these videos are super cute, and these moments that we have had in the garage, they’re very special. And I treasure those videos because it’s awesome that we got to have this to keep and look at years to come.”

They try to balance the chaotic life of an F1 family, building some normalcy and making the kids happy. Magnussen pointed out how the number one thing in life is having real relationships and friends, not the jet-setting lifestyle.

BAHRAIN, BAHRAIN - MARCH 2: Kevin Magnussen of Denmark and Haas F1 walks through the paddock with his daughter during the F1 Grand Prix of Bahrain. (Kym Illman/Getty Images)

“Whatever you think is important before you’re a parent,” Magnussen said, “don’t worry about it. It’s not.”

“Me and my wife bought a house in a normal neighborhood with normal people close to our family. My wife’s parents, they live one house next to us, and my dad’s house is also on the same street,” Magnussen said. “Just around the corner, my mom’s house is also 100 meters away. My best friend is 50 meters. So we’re all within a radius of 100 meters, and I treasure that a lot.”

Even in a glitzy and glamorous world like F1, the simple moments in life may mean the most to the drivers, like flying home early to see their family or playing with their child after a difficult weekend. “It’s really nice when you have a bad weekend or a bad day and you go home and you take her and you play with her and she smiles at you,” Hülkenberg said. “It helps to forget the day, and it makes you feel better in that moment.”

When it comes to being a parent, the drivers’ priorities are the same as those of the everyday fan. It’s wanting to protect and be there for their child, providing a life that’ll make them happy. Priorities shift fairly heavily in the new chapter, putting life in a different perspective despite competing in a pressure-cooker-eseque environment.

“Whatever you think is important before you’re a parent,” Magnussen said, “don’t worry about it. It’s not.”

[unluckyhoneybee]

Mick meeting Toto's assistant/ intern and falling head over heels for her... puppy love Mick ❤️

"Toto!" You had spotted them quite far away and were running on their direction. Once you arrived, you were panting and flustered, pulling the neck of your t-shirt and pushing your hair back. "Oh fuck, I almost die"

But Mick was there, blushing and trying to not look at you. But Toto was smirking.

"Hey, YN"

"You forgot this" You said showing him the iPad he had been taking about the whole morning. "You need it, right?"

"Oh yes. Thank you YN" He nicely said, but his mind was somewhere else. Mick was really flustered, looking away and nervously rapping his floor. And Toto wasn't stupid, he knew the new kid was giving his assistant heart eyes. He had seen how Mick reacted when you were close, even Lewis had told him about this. "Stay, we came here with the scooters" Your boss chuckled.

"Oh yeah, fine" You said with a big smile. "I don't think I could go back all the way"

"You won't get a bonus for running"

"A girl has to try" You giggled.

Mick wanted to scream because you were so cute.

"Hi Mick" You said and he looked at you.

"Um... Hi" He smiled a bit. "so... You ran all the way here huh?"

"I thought you guys had left walking too, not in scooters" You laughed and leaned on the fence closer to them.

"Well, Mick will take you back" Toto chuckled.

Mick looked at his boss in panic and the older man winked at him. Mick wanted to die.

"Mick?"

"I'm already too big for une scooter" Toto excused himself.

So only a few minutes later, you were standing behind the blonde boy, your arms around his waist and your chin close to his shoulder. And Mick was trying to nor freak out because you were already freaking out and grabbing so hard into him.

"Slower, Mick" You begged making him laugh.

"I can't!"

"You sure can!"

"Mick, that's not how you win a woman's heart!" Toto said.

It's going to be a long season. Mick thought meanwhile, you had blushed deeply because the idea of Mick, the sweetest guy around, trying to win you over sounded pretty good.

[notoriousbeb]

The My Tears Ricochet Deep Dive

While this song obviously has a clear reference to Taylor’s masters being sold to Scooter Braun in November 2019, I don’t think that’s the full story being told here.

When she released Folklore, Taylor shared via Instagram that “My Tears Ricochet” is about an “embittered tormentor showing up at the funeral of his fallen object of obsession.”

Now, why is she fallen? Because her work has been taken from her. Okay, one question answered. ✅

Now, who is the “embittered tormentor obsessed” with Taylor? Scooter Braun, of course…But see, I actually don’t think it’s that simple. I get why that’s the obvious first choice, though.

(Back story for new kids who don’t know why Scoots is trash: In July 2016, Taylor was outcast and called a snake due to a leaked phone call by Kim Kardashian and her then-husband Kanye West. Scooter was Kanye’s manager. Then Kanye put out the video of the song in question from the call—featuring a naked Taylor lookalike. Then Justin Bieber posted that video to Instagram with a photo showing him on a video call with Scooter and Kanye. The caption said, “Taylor Swift what up.” So, they’re all three supreme douche-canoes of the highest order).

However, I think Scooter’s top priority (as always) in buying Taylor’s masters was simply to make money. And if he pissed her off while doing so, that was probably a delightful bonus. But I wouldn’t say he bought her masters because he was obsessed with her. This deal was nearly three years later, and nothing had popped off between the camps in the interim.

I have more on this tormentor/obsessor/muse, concept; but first, back to Folklore. Upon its release, Taylor also revealed in a YouTube livechat that it was the first song she wrote for the album. And that leads me into a bit of timing discussion.

I think Folklore was the result of a few seismic events in Taylor’s life: a run-in with Harry at Ed’s wedding in December 2018 (which I think helped to spawn his second solo album, Fine Line); followed by talking to him during early quarantine in March 2020 in Los Angeles when the Lover tour got postponed and then cancelled; the pandemic itself pushing her, like many of us, into some serious introspection; and, of course, the sale of her masters to Scooter in 2019.

Since this is the very first song Taylor wrote that ended up on Folklore, my speculation is that perhaps it was penned in those first couple of days of the pandemic, before she reconnected with Harry in LA.

Fine Line would have been newly released—just three months prior—and on her birthday no less.

Which leads me back to the tormentor and obsessor. You know what I might find tormenting, if I were Taylor? If I’d been waiting for this one guy to grow the fuck up for years and then (perhaps after we ran into each other at our good friends’ wedding?), he confessed to me that he still wanted me but, even at 25, he still didn’t have his shit together (please see, “Renegade,” “To Be So Lonely,” and “Peter”).

Then, after I piece myself back together following snake gate, some epic twat who bullied me online back then buys my work out from under me from the guy I thought I had a good working relationship with (Scott Borchetta) and while I’m dealing with that bullshit my ex I’m still pining for releases album on my birthday with songs seemingly about us and how he still wants me.

Yeah, that’d have me plenty tormented. And feeling like, since his first album was also quite “a tip of the cap” to me (his words) as well that, yeah, someone was a little obsessed with me.

So, anyway, the lyrics:

We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too

We open at the funeral Taylor told us about. Then referencing a potential cremation. If she’s burning, so is he. Because they’re twin flames? Because they’re so close?

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you ‘Til my dying day

Does this sound like someone talking to either a bully or a former business associate? To me it sounds like a very messy, very difficult, former lover.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And you're the hero flying around, saving face And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

I can see how people could think this was about Scott, but not Scooter. But T herself said this whole thing was about one muse: The embittered obsessor attending her funeral.

Anyway, my take: it’s a lover she couldn’t let go of easily, so it ended messy.

And now he’s out promoting an album full of songs about them, pretending it’s not, because he’s a gentleman. But while he’s acting like she’s nothing to him, they both know what he said to her in private, and what those songs are really about, and no matter how much she cries and waits and wants him to grow up and come get her he just can’t — or won’t.

We gather stones, never knowing what they'll means Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring

This is a Biblical allusion to Ecclesiastes 3:5: “A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.” I think she’s referring here to an idea revisited again in “loml,” that she thought she’d be safer and maybe get the life she wanted with someone more stable, versus being in a relationship that left her starry eyed, like she was with Harry…and that’s how she wound up with Joe for six years.

You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene

Ah, would it really be a Haylor lyric breakdown if we weren’t talking about ghosts and haunting at some point? 👻 They obviously haunt one another because they can’t shut up about each other. (Not that I’m complaining!)

Two Ghosts: “We're just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty.” ....Ready for it?: “Wonder how many girls he loved and left haunted.” Cardigan: “I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs.”

You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me

Even while doing the press for Fine Line, H was wearing her ring. Should we talk some more about the Haylor ring? Or burying and graves? Nah. I think these posts sum it up very well.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

I think these lines could be a reference both to things he’s said to her and in his songs about her, particularly the pointed ones. “Lights Up,” for one, which to me, reads like an argumentative back-and-forth about why must things change in a relationship against the backdrop of fame. It also seems to include a tie to “Peter” with “I’m never coming back down,” as compared to “I didn’t want to come down.”

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones

And where is home in this case—and so many others? Each other.

And I still talk to you When I'm screaming at the sky And when you can't sleep at night You hear my stolen lullabies

I imagine this is her picturing him listening to her old albums, as she hadn’t done her rerecords yet. Also, again, doesn’t this all seem a bit…intimate and dramatic for a business relationship? Like, picture this moment in the Eras Tour in your mind, please, and tell me with a straight face that you’d sing like this for your former boss. It certainly doesn’t seem like anything you’d say to someone like Scooter. Why would she ever want to talk to him at all?

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain Crossing out the good years And you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

So, this is where we get into the “embittered” part of Taylor’s original description of the song’s muse—the person visiting her funeral. Why is he bitter? Because he lost her. She didn’t stay. Perhaps because his own bad behavior pushed her away. “All the light couldn’t put out the dark running through my heart?” “I know you were way too bright for me. I’m hopeless, broken.” Also, and again, please see, “Renegade,” and “To Be So Lonely,” and “Peter” and also “Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus.”