#so why are you still waiting for it to be said

[beloveds-embrace]

Chubby reader x monster!141…. Chubby reader where you are at all-time-low after your ex cheated on you with the woman you had always been insecure of (she was everything you were not), so now you are just done. Done with him, with her, with your terrible work that forced you to come in even while sick, done with life.

So you go to a bar, and intend to fully drink yourself and all your sorrows away. You don’t even care enough to ask any friends to accompany you- they knew. They fucking knew. Calling them friends anymore is just stupid- and you don’t care enough to look around at anyone; you know you aren’t anyone’s preference either.

When a man, big and burly, curling horns and two big ass wings (maybe one of those dragon shifters? You know harpies have feathers, but the rest of your brain is too muddled) sits down next to you, you just ignore him and continue nursing your drink, trying your best to bite back the tears in your eyes.

“That’s enough now, love,” he croons, and much to your confusion, he takes the glass away from you. His voice is rough and rumbling, like thunder. Too hazy, too drunk, you don’t even care enough to get angry at him. No, your eyes fill with tears instead. “No, no, calm down. Let’s get you out of here, alright, little love?”

Another man joins your other side, just as big and burly but shorter than the dragon man who is making you tear up by holding your drink, your source of solace tonight, hostage in his hand. This one is a werewolf, his ears flicking in your direction much like his grin and his tail eagerly thumping to and fro against your chair.

“Sweet lass,” he croons, your teary eyes flicking towards him. You can see his hands clench in the air. Why, why, why- you just wanted to drink away. They are both so handsome, such a shame they clearly don’t like you and are just bothering you for the sake of bothering you, a fat woman in a miserable corner. “Enough tears and enough alcohol, aye, hen? Yer aff yer heid!”

His words are so strange, your tears momentarily pause. “What…?” You wonder outloud, shivering when you feel a warm breath across your neck, warming your skin. The dragon. His hand settles on your lower back, nudging you to get off the chair with them, and you feel like crying again. He probably can feel all the fat there, how horrible-

“Careful there, little love.” Dragon steadies you with two hands when you get dizzy, and with weak hands you try to swat at him, try to move away, but the werewolf is at your other side and keeping you pressed between them.

“S’op… stop callin’ me that,” you mumble. The tears roll down then. “Not- not funny, not at all-“

Two other hands on your back, a tail thumping against the back of your thighs, you are still led outside even as you babble about everything. Your size, your ex, the one your ex cheated, your work, your ex-

You want your damn drink back.

For their part, Price and Johnny didn’t think coming out for a drink tonight would lead to finding their last soulmate. The second they had entered the dinky bar, John had expected to need to puff out a deep, smoky breath to keep his nose clean from all the overwhelming smells and Johnny had prepared to to keep his nose happily pressed into John’s skin.

They hadn’t expected to smell you, something like the smell of stepping into a warm home after spending time out in winter, something like watching soft, golden sunlight stream into the nest room on a morning they spend sleeping in with Kyle and Simon. Like soulmate, like the last link of John’s hoarde and Johnny’s pack, and he has no doubt that you are Kyle’s nest and Simon’s. Simply his. A part of him just as you are a part of them.

Driven so wholly by instincts, seeing you drunk and crying pushing them even more into said instincts, they easily you herd along with them, back to their home. All explanations, everything else can wait until tomorrow. You are so soft to the touch, all tender and squishy, they already think you so perfect. In the back of the car, it doesn’t take seconds before you are dozing off and dead to the world, already so trusting.

By tomorrow morning, Simon would be easily able to track down where you live and get all your items. And also find that shitty ex of yours. John hasn’t yet decided if he wants to thank or beat him.

Watching the way Johnny holds you in his lap from the rearview mirror while he drives, hands squeezing your lovehandles with a low groan, mumbling about how much he already adores you, soft bonnie hen, all theirs- John decides he doesn’t give a single fuck about your ex at the moment. He needs to hold you between his arms and wings, in the comfort of his nest.

Fuck, he might end up breaking more than just a few speed limits.

[heyitsmetonid]

Word Count: 2,555

Reading Time: ~10m

Warning: Abduction. Suspense.

          “Morning, Toni!”

          “Morning, Uncle Eli,” I said sleepily.

          “I’ve made some bacon and pancakes, and freshly squeezed orange juice is on the table.” He looks at his watch. “I have to run. I’ll pick you up after school, okay?”

          “Alright.”

          “I love you,” Uncle Eli said before kissing me on the forehead. “Have a good day at school, and please, learn something.” He laughed.

          “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Love you, too,” I said, waving him off.

          Uncle Eli grabbed his satchel and blazer and rushed out the door as I sat at the kitchen table. I put a few pancakes on my plate and reached for the bacon when I noticed the newspaper on the table.

          “Ah, Uncle Eli!” I groaned, picking up the newspaper and running to the front door. By the time I reached the front yard, he had already pulled off and was on his way to work.

          Uncle Eli worked at Wise University as an English professor, and every morning before he started his day, he’d drink a cup of coffee and read the newspaper. However, he’d have to find new reading material to go with his coffee this morning since he forgot all about it.

          I trudged back inside, flinging the newspaper on the kitchen table, and flopped onto my seat. Then, I grabbed a nice helping of bacon, poured myself a glass of orange juice, and chowed down.

          “Why does he always read the paper when he could just watch the news? Uncle Eli is so old,” I chuckled. “What’s in here anyway?”

          Curiosity got the best of me, and I picked up the Wise Gazette newspaper. I flipped through the pages as I shoveled mouthfuls of pancakes and bacon into my mouth. I landed on the last page of the local news section.

          “Ms. Mrytle’s dog is missing,” I mumbled. “Hmm! Snickers has been missing for a while, too. Hope no one’s snatched him up. Otherwise, he’s got himself a new -“

          As I flipped to the next page, I found another newspaper stuffed between the pages of the Wise Gazette, the Richmond Dispatch.

          “The Richmond Dispatch? I haven’t seen one of these since … since I was last there,” I uttered as memories flooded my memory. “What is this doing in here? Mmm ... what is Uncle Eli doing with a Richmond paper?”

          I wasn’t sure why Uncle Eli had a newspaper from Richmond. Yes, we were from Richmond, but we hadn’t been there in ages. We no longer had family there, so we never visited. I thought maybe he just missed home like I did at times and felt nostalgic. So, I began flipping the pages of the Richmond Dispatch.

          As I flipped through the local news, nothing sounded or looked familiar. It wasn’t a surprise. So many years passed, but for some reason, I was hoping that something would pop out at me. Anything to jog my memory and make me go, “Oh, I remember this!” or “Oh, wow! That’s still there!” But nothing like that happened.

          I finally got to the last page of the local news, and as I scanned the section, my heart stopped. I dropped my fork on the table and harshly swallowed the bacon down. Just after missing pets were missing persons. There was only one person listed. The listing read as follows:

Antonia Clare Duff

Missing since June 9, 2004

Age: 14

Sex: Female

Height: unknown

Weight: unknown

Hair: Black

Eyes: Brown

Missing from: St. Paul’s Daycare

Report #: 20-621117

Circumstances: Antonia was last seen on June 9, 2004. She was waiting for her grandmother in front of the daycare in the parent pickup section when she suddenly disappeared. She was 4 years old then (see picture above). She is now 14 years old. Below is a picture of what she may look like now. If you have information about the whereabouts of this missing person, please contact the Richmond Police Department's Missing Persons Unit.

Special Message from Parents: Antonia, we love you. We hope you are okay, and if you see this, please know we’ve never stopped looking for you. Please come home! We miss you dearly.

          “I … I’ve been missing? My parents are alive? What the fuck!”

          I clutched the newspaper in my hands, and the tears began building up in my eyes when I heard a familiar sound coming from the driveway.

          “Uncle Eli!”

          I took the page of the missing persons, shoved it in my backpack, and folded the newspapers the way I found it. I shoveled a large piece of pancake into my mouth and pretended that I was scrolling through my social media just before Uncle Eli – or whoever he was – walked in.

          “Ah! I was about halfway to the university when I realized I left this behind,” Uncle Eli said, grabbing the newspaper. “I wasn’t too far, so I decided to turn around.”

          I nodded.

          He studied my face for a moment. “Have you been crying?” he asked.

          I shook my head and pointed to my phone. It was a clip of a bride walking down the aisle.

          “So beautiful!” I said with my mouth full.

          “Oh, boy! Haha! You get so emotional over the smallest things.” He petted my head, and it took everything in me not to jump away from his touch. “Try not to get yourself worked up before first period.”

          “Will do!” I smiled.

          The man who claimed to be my uncle gave me another kiss on the forehead and walked out the front door. I swallowed the pancake with some difficulty. My hands shook as I pushed my plate away. I ran over to the window to make sure Uncle Eli was gone again, and once he was, I whipped out the newspaper article. I read it over and over again.

          “They survived. They didn’t die.” The tears welled up in my eyes. “He … he lied to me!” This time, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

          For over 10 years, I believed that my parents had drowned when their cruise ship capsized after a smaller boat hit them head-on. They were celebrating their 6th year anniversary. The morning before they boarded the cruise, they dropped me off at my grandma’s house.

          “Behave for Grandma, okay?” my mom told me.

          “Okay!”

          “We love you!”

          They kissed and hugged me goodbye; that was the last time I saw them.

          Two days later, at daycare, I was waiting on a bench in the pickup circle for my grandma to get me. The teachers were talking to a few of the parents who were there picking up their kids. Everything was normal. I just happened to look over toward the playground and saw Uncle Eli standing there by the fence. I waved at him, and he waved back. He put his finger to his lips and waved me over. I looked to see what my teachers were doing. They were still yapping with the parents. So, I jumped off the bench and quietly ran to the playground fence.

          “Hi, Uncle Eli!”

          “Hi, puddin’! How was daycare?”

          “It was good. I’ve been learning to count and write my name,” I told him.

          “Oh, that’s good. Real good,” he stated, his expression turning gloomy.

          “What’s wrong, Uncle Eli?”

          “Puddin’, I’ve got some awful news, but I can’t tell you here.”

          “Why not?”

          “Because I need to show you something. You’ll come with me? It’s important. I promise!”

          “Mm! Grandma is supposed to pick me up, though,” I state with concern.

          “I know, but she’s a little tied up right now, so she tasked me with picking you up today because of what’s happened.”

          What happened? I thought it must be serious if Grandma sent Uncle Eli to get me. He only came to pick me up occasionally with my father.

          “Okay. Let’s go,” I conceded.

          “Alright, Puddin’,” Uncle Eli said with his hand extended.

          I grabbed his hand, and we walked to his car. He put me in the child’s seat he already had in the backseat and buckled me in. We pulled off seconds later. Sometime later, we arrived at his house, and he turned on the news and showed me that the cruise ship my parents were on had sank. The reporter kept saying that many were dead and missing, and they were still looking for the bodies. I cried my eyes out. Uncle Eli comforted me and said that Grandma was too old to look after me long-term, so I was going to stay with him. Then, he told me that staying in Richmond was too painful because it reminded him of his brother and my mom. That’s when he told me he’d already packed my bags and we were moving to Wise, which I discovered much later was on the other side of Virginia.

          Then, about three weeks after moving to Wise and asking about my grandma a billion times, he told me that she had died of natural causes. I cried even more. What family did I have left besides Uncle Eli? My heart was unbelievably shattered at the age of four.

          However, now sitting at my abductor’s kitchen table, catching him in a lie about my parents, I wasn’t so sure my grandma died of natural causes. My brain was overwhelmed with questions. What happened on that ship? How did they make it out? When did they find out I was missing? Was Uncle Eli really related to my dad? Did they suspect him or someone else? What really happened to my grandma? I wanted all of these questions answered, but I knew I couldn’t get the answers here. So, I folded the newspaper neatly this time, put it back in my backpack, and headed towards the front door.

          Out of instinct, I grabbed my keys from the key holder on the wall. I stopped myself and glanced at the keys. My house key, garage key, and spare key to my uncle’s cabin in Washington were attached to a glittery pride flag keychain he got for me shortly after I came out of the closet to him. He said it symbolized his undying love and that he'd always love me no matter who or what I was. I cringed at the thought.

          I put the keys back on the hook and opened the door, but something stopped me from leaving. I looked back at the keys.

          “Actually,” I snatched the keys, “I may need these later. I don’t need him suspecting me either if things don’t pan out. Uh! Where do I even begin?”

          After a moment, I thought of my friend, who also happened to be my neighbor, and wondered if she had left for school yet. I locked the door behind me and sprinted two doors down to her house.

          “Toni!” Sophia greeted me with a hug. “I thought you would’ve left by now. I was just about to leave myself.”

          “Actually, Sophie, I thought I could talk to you for a second. I’ve got a really big problem, and I don’t want to be alone right now.”

          Sophia nodded. “Oh, okay. Well, let’s walk and talk.”

          She tried to walk through the door past me, but I held my arm out. She stopped and gave me a puzzled look.

          “Sophie, we can’t talk about this out in the open,” I explained. “We have to talk about this inside. I can’t risk the wrong person overhearing us. This is serious.”

          “What is going on?” Sophia questioned, pulling me inside and sitting on the living room sofa.

          I pulled out the newspaper article and showed it to Sophia. Her eyes widened once they landed on the missing persons section. She looked at me and then back at the picture of 4-year-old me.

          “Oh my god! That’s you! Well, your last name is different,” she mentioned, "but that's definitely you!"

          I rubbed my temple. “Yeah, my uncle wanted us to have a fresh start, so we changed our last names once we got here.”

          “Whoa! This is insane!” Sophia exclaimed, reading through the rest of the article. “Oh my – have you tried calling them?”

          “No, I haven’t called anyone,” I answered. “I don’t even know what to say.”

          “You don’t know what to say?!” Sophia looked dumbfounded. “Just say, ‘Hey! I’m the girl everyone is looking for.’ That’s what you say. Look! Your parents even have their number listed. Don’t you want to talk to them after all this time?”

          I followed Sophia’s finger on the page, and sure enough, my parents’ number was listed beneath the police department’s number.

          Growing up in a completely different setting from Richmond gave me a physical disconnect from what I once knew. The house I once lived in. The daycare I attended. My grandmother. My parents. It all seemed nonexistent and out of reach once Uncle Eli and I started fresh in a new town, but now that all changed. Right in front of me in ink was a sure way to reconnect with the parents I missed dearly.

          “Toni,” Sophia gently called my name. “Hey, earth to Toni.”

          “Wha-?” The shock was finally getting to me.

          “Hey! You’re zoning out on me. Listen to the sound of my voice. That’s right. Take some deep breaths. In,” Sophia inhaled, “and out,” she exhaled.

          Together, we did this simple breathing exercise until she felt I was cognizant enough to follow the conversation again.

          “Good now?” Sophia asked.

          “Yeah, for now anyway,” I said.

          “So … what do you want to do?”

          Honestly, I knew I had to reach out to the authorities and let them know who I was and what had happened. I knew I had to get away from Uncle Eli and snitch on the guy who had been taking care of me for ten years. I knew what I had to do but hadn’t thought about what I wanted to do. Yet, as soon as the question was posed, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

          “I want to hear my mom and dad’s voice,” I whispered.

          Sophia nodded. “Okay, let’s give them a call.”

          I reached for my phone and started dialing the number, but Sophia snatched the phone from me halfway through.

          “What the hell!” I yelled.

          “Not on your phone!” she advised. “Use mine instead. Just in case Uncle Whatever-the-fuck-his-real-name-is checks your logs. Weirdos like him usually have crazy habits, you know.”

          “Oh,” I said. “Good thinking.”

          I nervously pushed the numbers on the keypad, and my hands shook as I stared at the number on the screen. “I’m so nervous. What if they don’t think it’s me? What if they don’t answer? What if ….”

          Sophia looked at me while she considered my concerns. Then, she said, “If someone I loved was missing, and I was looking for them for a very long time, I’d try my best not to miss a single phone call because one of those phone calls could lead me back to them. So, yeah, they may not believe you, or they may not answer, but I highly doubt that. Someone’s bound to answer.”

          I was thanking the universe that I had such a great friend in Sophia. So, with her encouragement, I pressed dial. The phone rang forever.

          Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!

          “Hello?”

Author's Note: When I saw this prompt, I knew I just had to write this. It took me a while to actually get it done, but voila! Thank you for taking the time to read this, and as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are welcome.

Toni D

Visit my bookshelf to read more!

Credit for dividers to @cafekitsune 💜🖤🩷

"Mine, Part 1" © 2024 by Toni D

All rights reserved. No part of this written work may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author. Do not repost, translate, plagiarize or otherwise repurpose.

You, 14 years old, wake up and head to the kitchen for breakfast before school. While you're eating you see the newspaper and glance at the missing kids section. It’s you. Date missing: 10 years ago.

[pitchsidestories]

wouldn't change a thing II Ona Batlle x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1415

a/n: dear readers, we hope you'll enjoy the oneshot which is inspired by this lovely request here. 💗💗

Being relatively tall for a woman had its advantages, you had to admit. Especially when you played for Barcelona and their dressing room wasn’t designed for the average female body height.

In contrast to your several inches shorter girlfriend, you could reach all the shelves with ease.

But you and Ona had established a routine by now. After every training, she would wait for you to hand her the towels, so she didn’t have to climb up on the bench to reach them.

You had decided that the injury risk was way too high and offered to do it for her. Your height had to be good for something.

As usual, you also handed her the towels after todays’ training as well: “Here you go.“

“Thank you.“, Ona smiled and pushed herself against you for a hug.

“You’re welcome.“, you replied as you held her close to you.

You pressed a quick kiss to her temple as she was the perfect height for it and brushed a few stray hair from her forehead.

Mapi giggled from the other side of the dressing room: “You’re too tall for your girlfriend, y/n!”

You grimaced at the defender: “If that’s the case, then Ingrid is too tall for you too.“

“I can reach my own stuff.“, Mapi shrugged.

“So can I but sometimes it’s just easier that way.“, Ona replied unimpressed and threw the towel over her shoulder.

Alexia joined the conversation, a sly smirk on her face: “Oh please, everyone knows that Ona loves the princess treatment.“

“She can’t get enough of it.“, Aitana agreed with a laugh.

Ona rolled her eyes, way too used to their teasing: “Guys.“

“Yeah, it’s not that funny.“, you sided with your girlfriend.

Mapi shook her head, still grinning: “I think it is.“

You sighed: “Of course you do.“

You knew what was coming. As soon as one started, the others would join immediately. It was some kind of weird Barcelona Femeni love language. You quietly braced yourself for the bad jokes that would inevitably be coming.

“Are you even allowed to wear heels when you go out with Ona?”, Cata asked. She was already wheezing about her own joke.

“You’re definitely more likely to see me in heels than Oni.“, you smiled back at her. Ona loved her sneakers, you loved a good pair of heels, height difference or not.

Cata continued: “Poor Ona is even smaller then. But at least you two don’t bump heads when you go dancing.“

“But I always find her in any crowd.“, Ona shrugged, winking at you.

“And Ona is the perfect height for hugs.“, Fridolina chimed in, sounding more delighted than taunting.

“She is.“, you confirmed.

“So cute with your matching opposite aesthetics.”, Salma commented with a huge smirk on her lips.

“Salma don’t.”, Mapi warned, clearly fearing the tall forward would stop the banter with her observation.

“Why?  It’s very opposite.”, she chuckled.

Meanwhile, you turned around to face your girlfriend. “Are you ready to go, Oni?”

No words were needed for her to answer the question, she simply jumped on to your back grinning.

While you made sure she was positioned safely, the brunette murmured into your ear. The smile carried through the voice. “Ready.”

Both of you said your goodbye to your teammates, when you were almost at the door Vicky yelled smiling. “Bye, princess.”

“They’re such idiots.”, Ona sighed.

“I love them though despite the teasing.”, you admitted.

“Yeah, me too. It’s a normal height difference though, they’re just annoying.”, she said.

You nodded in agreement. “True.”

“Let’s just go home.”, the defender suggested in a longing tone, nothing sounded better in her ears than having a good dinner and afterwards being cozy on the sofa with her dog and you.

Noticing the dreamy look in your girlfriends’ eyes you decided. “Yes, please. I’ll drive, you already look a bit sleepy.”

“Okay. Fine, I won’t complain.”, Ona answered.

“Good.”

The two of you got into your shared car while the fellow football player started the music playlist, she couldn’t help but to tease you. “Even though you drive horrible.”

“Excuse me? Your fast driving isn’t better.”, you protested laughing.

“I drive well.”, the defender countered.

“Do I’ve to remind you of-“, you begun.

“I’m quiet.”, Ona interrupted you softly. 

Fast forward and it was the night of the Ballon d’Or.

Sadly, not many of the female players could attend the event because it was set during the national team break, but a few of your club teammates and you were able to.

On the other hand, the gala wasn’t known in its history to be this supportive of women footballers in general.

Surrounded by the nominated female players you put on your high heels who gave you the needed confidence boost and calmed your nerves for the moment.

“You look gorgeous.”, Ona whispered admiringly, tiptoeing to place a heartfelt kiss to your lips.

“So do you.”, you told her and meant every word, your girlfriend wore her beautiful long wavy hair open, only slight make up, so her natural beauty shone through even more and the defender was in an outfit she felt comfortable in.

“Naw.”, Aitana remarked.

Impatiently Caroline threw in. “Can you two love birds hurry up now?”

“We’re good to go.”, you assured the Norwegian.

“Finally.”, Alexia noted happily.

“Come on, we can’t be late.”, Aitana reminded everyone urgently.

“Coming.”, you tried to soothe the small midfielder.

As you followed her, Ona interlaced her fingers with yours and whispered: “Don’t let go of my hand.“

“I won’t. Nervous?”, you quietly asked.

She shook her head: “Not at all.“

“Me neither. It’s between Caro and Aitana.“

“We’ll see.“, she replied earnestly which caused you to pause and raise your eyebrow at her.

“What? They’re simply the best, Ona?”

She turned back to you with a frown: “I didn’t say that they are not.“

“You would have deserved a nomination too.“

She shrugged nonchalantly: “I don’t care about this award to be honest. Defenders usually don’t win.“

“It’s not fair.“, you complained on her behalf.

“It’s fine.“, she assured you.

You pulled her in for a hug. First you wanted to press a kiss to her forehead but remembering your lipstick, you thought better of it: “You’re still the best.“

She chuckled lightly, brown eyes shining brightly as she looked up at you: “You’re too sweet.“

“Girls, time to pose together. And stop that teeth rotting sweet talk!”, Alexia called over to them, right before she stepped on the red carpet.

“We’re not doing anything.“, Ona blinked innocently while the two of you joined the group standing in front of the photographers.

“Lies.“, Caroline said through her teeth.

“Just smile for the camera.“, Aitana ordered.

You did as you were told, before taking your seats at the ceremony. You politely applauded for every winner and cheered whenever your teammates were onstage but with every passing hour you could feel Ona getting more impatient.

“Glad we’re done with this.“, she jokingly sighed as the ceremony ended and people moved on to the afterparty.

“Sounds like someone wants to go home.“, you grinned.

Nodding, Ona bit her lip: “Yes, my girlfriend looks so hot and I really don’t feel like sharing tonight.“

“Oh, you don’t?“, you teased but just like her, you didn’t mind skipping the party and go straight back to your hotel room.

“No.“

Hand in hand, you snuck out of the building and hailed the next cab. You scrolled through several social media posts of the Ballon d’Or on the drive back. Of course, you couldn’t help but check the comments too and they were exactly what you expected.

You chuckled softly: “They write so much bullshit, amor.“

“Let me see.“, Ona demanded as she scooted closer to have a look at your phone screen.

“They’re still commenting about our height difference.“, you grinned. “Seems to bother them a lot more than us.“

“Right? Let them keep talking, I don’t care.“, Ona laughed and leaned over to kiss you.

The cab stopped in front of your hotel. You could barely wait to go inside.

A few years ago, comments like these would have plunged you into self-doubt, wishing you were a few inches shorter. But not since Ona came into your life.

With Ona you felt confident and desired, not despite but because of your height. They could say what they wanted, all you could see in those photos was a couple that matched each other perfectly.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/batlleonafc/748573331298697216/her-smile-lights-up-every-room?source=share

[forzarma]

Between the lines

Lando Norris x Law student!reader

A/N: ok amma just act like i didn’t ghost this app for months and came out if nowhere but here we are ig. Also the Brazilian gp??? What the heck like wild race istg😭

It all started one night in Monaco, on a break from law school. You were on vacation with a friend, celebrating the rare freedom that came with a brief pause in your intense study schedule. A night at the casino was not usually your scene, but your friend had insisted.

After about an hour, she’d struck up a flirtatious conversation with some guy who’d been lingering by the bar. You waved her off, telling her you’d be fine, and took a seat on your own near a roulette table.

That’s when he walked up. Unassuming at first, with that messy hair and a slightly cocky smile that had “trouble” written all over it.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, a hint of an accent in his voice.

You shrugged, amused. “Go for it. But I’m not particularly good at this.”

He chuckled. “Neither am I.”

You exchanged a few more jokes, but it didn’t take long for him to introduce himself, giving you his number in a smooth, unhurried way.

“Lando,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You stashed the number away without much thought. It was only the next day, when you mentioned the encounter to your little sister over FaceTime, that you realized who he actually was.

“Some guy named Lando gave me his number at the casino,” you’d said offhandedly. Her jaw dropped.

“Wait, Lando who??.”

You blinked, stunned, and then laughed. “I don’t know, apparently he’s famous”

“so it’s lando fucking norris what” she said wide eyed

She rolled her eyes, muttering, “Only my sister would be this oblivious to F1 drivers. I’ve been a die-hard fan since I was, like, ten, and you meet one without even knowing?”

From there, you let yourself get to know him, intrigued by how normal he seemed compared to the hype you’d suddenly realized surrounded him. When he asked you out, you thought, why not? You were used to focusing on your studies and keeping your personal life private, so it didn’t seem like much would change. But with Lando, everything was different.

-

Months later, you’d fallen into an unexpected but steady rhythm with Lando. Despite his career, he managed to keep things low-key. Neither of you posted much about each other. Hell, you barely posted anything at all. You were still a law student with a private life, and the last thing you wanted was for the whole world to know who you were dating.

One evening, you were lying on his couch, scrolling through your phone, when Lando turned to you with a sly grin.

“Babe, you know… you’re eventually gonna get caught, right? Someone’s going to snap a picture of us, and then the cat’s out of the bag,” he teased, nudging your leg with his.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Oh, sure, because every random person with a camera is just dying to know who you’re dating.”

He snickered, leaning in closer. “Maybe. But you know, it could be kinda nice… to go out sometimes. Like, properly. We don’t have to make a big deal of it.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. As much as you loved being with him, the idea of being recognized—or worse, photographed—made you cringe. Your accounts were private, your life simple, and you weren’t sure how you’d feel about people seeing you with him.

But, at the same time, you knew it wasn’t fair to keep him hidden away forever. So, you took a deep breath and gave him a small smile. “What if we make a deal?”

His eyebrows shot up in interest. “I’m listening.”

“You can have me at the paddock,” you said, already dreading the idea. “But my accounts stay private, no tags, no ‘girlfriend reveals’ on Instagram. I’ll show up, I’ll be there for you but I’m not trying to become some celebrity.”

He grinned, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Deal. Although I can’t promise you won’t end up in a couple of team photos. You know how they love to catch every damn moment.”

You chuckled, trying not to think too hard about what you were signing up for.

-

A couple of weeks later, you were lying in bed with Lando, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, when you felt a pang of guilt.

“I never actually told you about my sister,” you said suddenly.

“Oh?” He looked over at you with interest.

“Yeah, she’s been obsessed with F1 since she was like, ten,” you explained, laughing softly. “She’s begged me to take her to a race for years, but I was always too busy with school. Now she’s a full-on Ferrari fan… and she’s probably never going to forgive me for dating you.”

He grinned, intrigued. “A Ferrari fan, huh? That’s rough. Maybe I can convince her to switch sides.”

You snorted. “Good luck. She’s already sworn allegiance to Sebastian Vettel. In her words, McLaren’s colors are ‘an offense to her soul.’”

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Well, in that case, we’ll have to win her over somehow. Why don’t we bring her to a race? I’ll make sure she gets the best seats, full experience,

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “She’d lose her mind. Seriously. Are you sure? Because I can tell you right now, she’d never root for McLaren.

“Absolutely,” he said, squeezing your hand. “If she’s as big a fan as you say, she deserves a proper race weekend. Plus, I think it’s time we officially break her ‘Ferrari-only’ heart.”

-

On race day, you and Lando arrived at the paddock, and immediately, heads turned. You’d chosen a classic, chic outfit and despite your initial nerves, you managed to keep your cool.

You spotted your sister down the row, and her jaw dropped as soon as she saw you. She approached, barely able to contain her excitement, though she shot a mock glare at Lando.

“Such a shame I don’t like McLaren,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied with a grin. “You just wait. One lap, and you’ll be a fan.”

She rolled her eyes, but you could tell she was thrilled, practically bouncing on her heels as she looked around at the spectacle. She turned to you, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re really here… at a race. I don’t know whether to thank you or disown you.”

You laughed, nudging her playfully. “I’m still not a fan, if that helps.”

She huffed, pretending to be offended. “I guess I’ll forgive you. But only if you bring me every single time from now on.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of cameras, fans, and the hum of engines. You couldn’t deny the rush of excitement that came with being part of the chaos, even if it meant being in the public eye. And when you saw your sister’s face, completely lit up as she took in every second, it felt worth it.

-

The relationship slowly became public, just as you and Lando had agreed. You kept your accounts locked down, but fans began to recognize you, and a few photos of you two at the paddock circulated on social media.

Your sister stayed true to her Ferrari fandom, texting you regularly to tease you about your “betrayal.” But every now and then, you’d catch her slipping in a comment about McLaren usually something along the lines of, “Okay, that car looks pretty badass.”

One evening, Lando turned to you with a satisfied grin. “I think we’re doing alright, don’t you think?”

You looked around the Monaco apartment you’d somehow started calling “home” without even realizing it, at the life you’d built together. You leaned over, giving him a soft kiss. “Yeah, I think so, too.���

In the end, you realized you didn’t need to post, announce, or shout your relationship from the rooftops. Being there for each other was enough, even if it meant sharing some of the spotlight.

After all, Lando may have been the one the world wanted to see, but you were his, and that was more than enough.

[wikiangela]

you're my happily ever after (so i'll take my chance now, risk it all somehow)

rating: G

words: 2.6k

8x06 fix-it, because I'm pissed - I or my fics aren't going anywhere tho <3

thank you to @evansboyfrend for beta reading, ily 🫶

[also on Ao3]

It feels like the whole world is crumbling down. It feels like the Earth should shake, burst on fire, open up and swallow everything around. As dramatic as it is, he kind of expects it to happen, and it’s weird that he’s still sitting here. His ears are ringing, panic rising in his chest with each of Tommy’s words. He watches Tommy get up and head for the door, and he’s frozen to his spot. It’s not- it can’t be. It fucking can’t be. “Wait,” he finally manages to say, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “did you just break up with me?” He asks, hoping to any entity that listens that he just misinterpreted it, that he got it wrong. Because- because he can’t lose Tommy. He’s falling for him so fast and so hard. He’s ready for the next step. He’s ready to move in together. He’s ready to talk about one day, eventually, maybe getting married. He knows he wants that. He knows what he wants, and he wants Tommy.  “Yeah, I guess I did.” Tommy answers, glancing back at him, his expression sad but firm. But Buck knows him. Knows that this mask will crumble into something devastated as soon as he leaves. That Tommy’s heart will shatter, just as Buck’s is right now. He can see through Tommy, he knows that he cares about Buck. It just- it doesn’t make sense. What was he even talking about… It was all so much, so fast, Buck’s brain is still scrambling trying to understand it all.  “Believe me, I didn’t see-” Tommy starts, but Buck shakes his head and interrupts him. “No.” He stands up, his legs feeling shaky. Tommy fully turns towards him, confusion in his face. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” He frowns.

“I mean, no, you’re not breaking up with me.” Buck says more confidently than he feels. Because this can’t be it. The last six months, the best six months of his fucking life, can’t end like this. Can’t end at all. He won’t have this. “I know you care about me. And I care about you. And I don’t want to break up.” He sees Tommy open his mouth to speak, his expression hardening – putting on a mask again, trying to hide the hurt. He speaks again before Tommy can. “If you truly, genuinely want this, not because you think it’s gonna be better for me or you, but because you don’t want to be with me, fine, I can respect that. But I won’t accept it without a fight. I- I wanna fight for us, Tommy.” Buck steps closer to him, hoping that Tommy doesn’t step back, that might just break him. He doesn’t, he’s stuck in place, sad eyes on Buck’s. “Let me fight for us. You-” he adds quickly, on a roll now, not wanting Tommy to interrupt until after he’s done, after he’s said his piece. He needs to say it all now, let Tommy know how he feels. He can’t watch him leave without trying to fix it first. Tommy’s looking at him intently, just listening, not even trying to speak. “You gave me a second chance once, when I fucked up our first date, and I- I want to believe it wasn’t for nothing. So- so you’re my first man, so what?” Buck throws his hands up in frustration, he thinks he’s starting to sound a little frantic, speaking faster and faster. He just can’t let Tommy leave without him knowing exactly how Buck feels. “It’s far from my first relationship ever. Why- why is it so different just because you’re a man? It shouldn’t be. I don’t need to date other people, experiment or whatever else. I’ve dated people, slept around, did it all. I know how that goes, how it feels, and I don’t want to do it again. I know what I want, Tommy. And I want you. And don’t you dare tell me how I feel.” He feels anger seep in, Tommy’s words ringing in his head. What the actual fuck was he thinking? “I’m a grown man, I know how I feel. Yeah, it’s new and exciting, but it’s also real. It’s real to me, and- and if there’s any chance of forever, I want to take it. And-” he takes a breath. He feels like he’s been speaking in one breath, feeling a little lightheaded now, his heart hammering. Or maybe that’s just the panic. “And don’t start with the whole ‘I’m not your last’ bullshit.” He shakes his head again, tears welling up in his eyes, anger still building. Really, what in the world? How could Tommy want to just throw away the most wonderful relationship that’s happened to Buck in years? Maybe ever? “You don’t know that. I don’t know that. Yeah, we could break up one day. But you could also be my forever, and I could be yours. I’d love a chance to find out, even if it hurts in the end. But maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one here brave enough to risk it. And- and what about my heart, huh?” Tears are threatening to spill, his voice shaking now, with sadness and anger, and desperation. He can’t let him go, he can’t. “You said I’d break your heart eventually. But this, right now? This is you breaking mine.” He finishes, almost panting now, his monologue taking the wind out of him, wanting to say everything on his mind, in his heart. He hopes he got his point across. 

“Evan.” Tommy just whispers, with a pained expression. There are tears in his eyes, too, one lone one slipping through, falling down his cheek. Buck’s hand itches to reach out and wipe it off, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to anymore. 

“Give us a chance, Tommy. Let us fight for this. Fight for me, for us. Fight with me.” He’s aware he sounds like he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This is too important. “I thought it’s been so good between us lately-”

“It has!” Tommy rushes to say. “It’s been amazing. You make me so happy. That’s why I’m scared, I just- I’m sorry, Evan, but I can’t let myself get hurt like this again. Because I- I’ve been there before, and it was hard to get back up, and with you- I don’t think I’d be able to ever recover from this one.” He admits, his stone-faced facade crumbling, and Buck can see his own feelings reflected in Tommy’s expression. Sad, devastated, heartbroken. 

“We can- we can take some time apart.” Buck says around a lump in his throat. He feels like he can’t breathe. All he wants is to rewind until before he dropped the moving in bomb which must be what made Tommy freak out. He could say anything else, and take it slower, and maybe they’d be on their way out right now, a date night like they planned. “If that’s what you need. A break. But not for good. And then let’s come back to it clear-headed, knowing for sure what we want. And if you still want to break up, I- I’ll respect that. But I already know what I want,” he repeats firmly, decisively. “I want a future with you. I want to move in together, and one day down the line get married, and- and I want it all with you. We can slow down if I’m rushing this. I tend to do that, and if it’s scaring you, I’m sorry.” He adds, not wanting to backtrack any of this, but aware of how intense he’s coming off. He’s never been more serious about anything in his life. “But the past six months have been the best in my life. I’ve never felt so happy, so free, so comfortable, so safe. And I’m not giving up on you, Tommy. I will fight for you until I can’t anymore, until you tell me that you don’t care about me and I should just fuck off.”

“Evan. You know I’ll never say that.” Tommy responds quietly.

“I know. Because I’m confident in us, in the fact that you do care, and you do want me. I know that.” Buck emphasizes, and realizes, not for the first time, that he never felt like this before. This secure. This confident about someone wanting him. “I also know you’re just trying to protect yourself, your heart, and I get it. But I can’t let you go without a fight. I won’t. I messed up a lot in my life, and I won’t mess up this. I refuse to. Because I-” he takes a sharp breath, the words pressing on his lips. He doesn’t want to say it for the first time in a possible break up, a moment of such anger and devastation. But he needs to put it all out there. Needs Tommy to understand how much he’s trying to throw away right now. “I love you, Tommy.” He confesses, sees Tommy’s face melt into the saddest expression Buck’s ever seen on anyone, tears spilling freely now. Both of theirs, he realizes, feeling wetness on his cheeks. “I’ve been falling for you a little bit more with each day we spend together, with each minute. And I know- I hope you feel the same. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t-” he swallows thickly, the thought alone is too much to bear. 

“I can’t do that.” Tommy interrupts quickly. “Of course I love you, Evan. It happened so quickly it kind of scared me a little.” 

“I noticed.” Buck says dryly, and Tommy lets out a humorless chuckle. “If you ask me, which you didn’t, by the way, you decided for both of us, which was an asshole move,” he points out, and Tommy looks away, as if ashamed. Good. Buck loves him, which means he’s gonna call out when he’s acting shitty. “I’d rather give us a real try and get my heart shattered if it comes to this, instead of always wondering what if, always wondering if you’re my one who got away. Which you would be.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, takes a step towards Buck, now just half a step away. “I’m sorry, maybe breaking up is too hasty. Impulsive,” he scoffs at himself, probably remembering how he called Buck that just a few minutes ago. Well, so maybe they’re both a little impulsive. Not a problem, in Buck’s opinion. “I don’t- I don’t want to break up. I never want to be away from you.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand flinches at his side, like he wants to reach out, grab Buck’s, touch him. Buck hopes he does. “It just- it seemed too fast. Like you got wrapped up in the moment. It’s still so new, I thought we were taking it one step at a time, and I didn’t-” he takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and Buck knows what he says is going to sting – and it does, it feels like a gut punch, actually, “I didn’t think you were as serious about this as I was getting. And I realize we should’ve done the mature thing and talked it out. I’m sorry. It’s just, we’ve barely talked about any future here. But I want it, of course I do. I’m just- I’m scared. My heart has never been in this much danger.” He looks into Buck’s eyes as he says it, more vulnerable than ever. This is everything Buck wants right now, for them to talk, to discuss this, to try fixing it, instead of one of them running away and the other giving up and not fighting for it. Buck’s been there, he doesn’t want a repeat.

“Tommy.” Buck is the one to close the distance between them, carefully brings his hands up to cup Tommy’s face, giving him a chance to back away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breathes out a sigh of relief, like he craved Buck’s touch as much as Buck craves his. “You remember when I told you I wanted something with you? Even though I didn’t know what that something was yet?” he asks and Tommy nods slightly, Buck’s palms still resting on his cheeks. “I’ve been serious about you since that precise moment. About pursuing this, and wanting some kind of future with you. I know I tend to rush into things, it’s been a problem before.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I tried not to do that with you, but I failed, clearly. I just think from now on, we both should stay and talk and try to work it out if we have any issues with something. If you still want me.” He adds a little anxiously, but relaxed when he feels Tommy’s palms settle on his hips.

“Of course I want you, Evan. I always will.” Tommy says, that loving look in his eyes, that always makes Buck’s heart melt a little. That look that Buck loves so much, that made him think that Tommy might feel the same way.

“Good. Like I said, I’m not letting you go. Ever.” He says decisively, a huge weight that’s been there since the topic even started finally lifting off his chest. This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and no matter the conclusion – which he’s pretty sure will be the happily ever after he’s always craved – it’s worth the risk, it’s worth everything.

“Good.” Tommy echoes, that gorgeous, scrunchy smile of his slowly spreading on his face, and it’s like sunshine came out from behind stormy clouds. “I don’t intend on letting you go, either. I love you, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry for… for this mess. For overreacting.”

“That’s fine, we’re past this- well, actually, we are gonna talk about it more, but at least we’re on the same page now, I hope.” Buck says, slowly leaning in. “I love you so much. I never want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry.” Tommy says again, and Buck just wants him to stop saying it. It’s fine, they’re fine now. “You won’t. You have me for as long as you want. I promise.”

“What if I want you forever?” Buck whispers, his face so close to Tommy's, their lips almost brush. It sends a shiver down his spine, like he hasn’t kissed him in days, when they just exchanged a quick kiss hello a few minutes ago.

“That works for me.” Tommy smiles again, and finally dives in for a kiss, but it lasts barely a second before he’s pulling away, Buck trying to follow. Tommy chuckles, running a comforting hand up and down Buck’s side. “But maybe let’s put a pause on the whole moving in together thing, huh? At least until we fully talk everything through.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Buck nods, his gaze flickering between Tommy’s eyes, now sparkling happily, and his pretty, kissable lips. It feels so good to be able to just have a mature conversation and resolve whatever issues arise. If they keep doing that, he thinks they’re going to be okay. He’ll make sure of that. “No need to be impulsive,” he adds, his lips twisting into a teasing smirk.

“Okay.” Tommy chuckles quietly, his cheeks reddening. “Just kiss me.” 

Buck doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Tommy like he means it, like he’s his person, like he’s the love of his life, trying to put all those emotions into a kiss. He knows for sure he’s getting the same intent back. And at this moment, in his kitchen, narrowly avoiding losing his love because of a stupid reason, he decides it. One day, not too quickly, but not too far into the future, he’s going to ask Tommy Kinard to marry him. And he’s more than sure of the response he’ll get.

[also on Ao3]

[ivyasproperty]

Necklace.

agathario x fem!witch!reader

summary - You made an impulsive decision and bought a necklace adorned with gems. Why?

warning(s) - some cursing

word count : 967

A/N : here reader is also a witch, but it's mentioned only once soooo..

men / minors dni!

You have no idea why you bought it. You were already struggling financially, so why in gods name did you buy a necklace worth almost your entire fortune?! You tried to calm down your racing mind, sweating buckets as you try and figure out why you made the impulsive decision to buy a necklace. You thought maybe because it was beautiful, adorned with purple and green gems, but you've seen multiple magnificent things in life and you've never made the stupid decision to buy it, even when you wanted it so badly, so when egged you to buy this monstrosity?

As you paced around your living room, necklace in hand, a sudden knock at your front door caught your attention. With how loudly and rapidly they were knocking, they've probably been at it for awhile now. You rushed to the door, not wanting to keep the person waiting and seem like a bad person, but stopped halfway. You were living in the middle of nowhere. The reason being running away from the witch hunters. Yes, you had powers, powerful ones in fact, but harming others never sat right with you. And if harming someone or something didn't sit right with you, don't even mention killing someone.

So as quickly as you could, you placed the necklace down and grabbed a nearby frying pan, just for extra measures, and rushed to open the door, but not before peeping through the windows. After seeing who was outside, you sighed in annoyance and reluctantly opened the front door. Standing there was the one and only infamous witch killer, Agatha Harkness, and beside her, Lady Death, also known as your past lovers. Things were rocky after your break up, and even though it took you awhile for your heart to heal, you managed. But seeing them in front of you brought back all the buried up emotions you spent forever to get over.

"What do you want?" "We need somewhere to camp out, pet.", said Agatha. Before you could even reply her, she brushed past you and welcomed herself into your humble abroad. "Yes, do come in," the sentence was very obviously dripped with sarcasm, but Agatha decided to ignore it. You looked back to the front door, not surprised Rio wasn't standing there, she probably teleported herself inside. As you closed the door, Agatha spoke up "What's this necklace doing here? I have to say, it is a beauty, but aren't you like... broke?" "Don't be rude." said the green witch. You snatched the necklace out of her hands and rolled your eyes, "It's none of your business, Agatha."

And as you walked away to the kitchen, necklace still in hand, that's when you realized the reason you bought the necklace Well fuck, you were in deep shit. You kept asking yourself a certain question, didn't you get over them? And you always said yes, but I guess your dumbass still hasn't gotten over them. But who could blame you? Agatha's crystal blue eyes, Rio's dark brownish hair.... oh god you were trailing off again.

As you stood there in a daze, Agatha and Rio stared at you with utter confusion. You've always been a responsive and quick-witted person, so seeing you just standing there in your own world was certainly a new experience. "What's wrong with her?", whispered Agatha, "How the hell am I supposed to know?" You came back to your senses while they were whispering, not sure how to stay calm. You were supposed to be over them! Gone! Out of your heart and mind! But as you looked back down at the necklace in your hands, you couldn't help the longing stare you gave to both the necklace and them.

Rio could sense it, the longing, the wanting them back. She nudged the witch standing beside her, whose attention was occupied by the horrid decorations of your home, which you tried make do. As she looked at you, she too couldn't help but notice the stare you were giving them. To be honest, the reason the two witches came to your doorstep was because they wanted to try and mend the relationship you guys once had. Sure, they were content with each other, but you were still etched into their minds. And with that, they just needed to exchange a knowing look and went along with their plan to win you back.

You didn't notice them moving from their spot, too focused on the necklace in your hands. So it was an understatement at the fact you were startled when two pair of hands wrapped around you. But you didn't jump away from their embrace, instead leaning into the two pair of arms. You missed this, the warmth they radiated from their bodies. Rio took the necklace and clipped it around your neck as Agatha hugged you tighter, not willing to let go as she inhaled your scent, not wanting to forget it even though it was already embedded into her senses.

"I missed this," whispered Agatha. "We all did, and we're sorry, darling. For what we've done. Agatha and I were wondering if.... you'd like to give it another chance?" It was rare for Rio's voice to be this soft. She's always been this cold hearted woman, but the vulnerability in her voice didn't startle you, instead it brought a warmness to your heart. You stood there in their embrace for awhile, contemplating whether you should accept their proposal or not. "Last chance," you whispered.

And as you three stood there together, their hands traveled to the necklace around your neck. And you felt a tingly sensation in your stomach. You should've realized the reason you bought the necklace sooner, considering how the gems that adorned it were the signature colors of your two lovers.

A/N : not that big of a fan of this but whatever!!!! hope you enjoyed this! don't hesitate to give a request!!! ><

[screamlet]

08x06 fix-it fic: break and be mended

not connected to that excerpt i posted before, just something completely different. 4.5k, read on the ao3

---

Another hospital room. Buck takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again, letting it out and hoping he gets back to sleep. It doesn't happen, though, because his brain catches up to his eyes:

Maddie, wearing a yellow paper hospital mask, a hand anxiously on her belly, sitting in the chair next to him with that too-familiar oh-thank-god-you're-finally-awake face… and Tommy leaning in the doorway.

He takes another deep breath and opens his eyes again.

"You're okay," Maddie says patiently, slowly, as Buck tries to slam the door shut or set the doorway on fire with his brain. "It's just the turkey flu, it hit you hard."

That breaks Buck's concentration. "Wait, is this a dream? Another coma dream? Turkey flu has to be something I made up."

Maddie raises her eyebrows and looks over her shoulder at Tommy before turning back to Buck. "Another one?"

"No, no, don't look at him," Buck interrupts. "He's not supposed to be here, not when I have turkey flu, not ever. He broke up with me, remember?"

In the doorway, Tommy shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He's wearing the dark blue LAFD t-shirt and pleated pants, a special Air Ops patch on his shirt sleeve. They always lurked under his flight suit, under his turnouts when they were on the same scene, but Buck didn't get to see them often. It was for the best, he thinks now, because the shirt fits perfectly across Tommy's chest and shoulders, the pants belted low. His shirt is tucked in better than Buck's ever is. He almost never got to see him like this so it feels like some new Tommy he's seeing, a Tommy that hangs around Harbor long enough to take off his flight suit but doesn't peel the rest of his work self off. He doesn't get off his shift, put the pilot away, shower and go home.

Buck looks away. He's looked too long.

"I'm actually here, you know." Tommy raps his knuckles on the door like that's proof of anything except a very strong poltergeist. "I can hear you."

Buck watches something that he hasn't seen in years sweep across Maddie's face (mostly her eyebrows, because of the mask).

She turns around and snaps, "I let you come within ten feet of my brother and you think bitchy fun Tommy was invited, too? He was not." Tommy looks shocked and abashed; Buck loves her so much.

"Why was he invited at all, Maddie?" Buck asks. "And you're both real, right? Like I'm not hallucinating both of you. Is that a turkey flu symptom? Can I have my phone? I need to look up turkey flu."

"It's a strain of avian flu, you just happened to get it from a turkey farm. Hen said you had a call to one of those last week," Maddie explains. "And you kept giggling when I said the words turkey flu so, you know, why not?"

"It's pretty funny," Buck admits. "Hey, why's he here?"

Maddie turns around and looks at Tommy expectantly. Buck still knows his face, still knows him, and can see the quip that wants to escape past his lips. He can see the work it takes to hold it back and look sincere, really sincere, for them.

"You collapsed at a scene and I flew you over," Tommy says. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Buck stares at him as he presses his lips into a fine line. "I'm okay. Thanks."

Tommy nods, then asks, "Can we talk? Alone?"

It's taken four months, almost as long as they were together, but Buck's finally hearing the words he's wanted to hear since Tommy walked out his door. I'm sorry, I was scared, I love you, yes let's take the next step together, from now on let's take every step together—that was Buck's first choice. Can we talk as a jumping off point for all those other things—that was Buck's second choice. Was.

Buck glances at Maddie and knows his face does something dumb. "I'll be outside," Maddie says. "And I'm not far, if you want me to throw him out." She looks over her shoulder at Tommy. "I'll do it."

Tommy nods. "Wouldn't doubt you for a second."

She squeezes Buck's hand and lingers for a beat, one long look at him like she's waiting for him to say actually, wait, don't, stay, but he doesn't. He hates that he doesn't. He hates that he wants to hear what Tommy has to say.

She and Tommy swap places; he takes the chair next to Buck's bed and she leaves, shutting the door behind her. Tommy doesn't see the way she passes by the window like a shark, watching, but Buck laughs. When Tommy looks back, she's gone.

"Your sister's changed a little," Tommy says casually. "Her sense of humor, I mean."

Buck licks his lips. "Yeah, well, when you were my boyfriend, you were her friend. Now you're neither."

"Yep, got it," Tommy says. He sits back in the chair, but looks so uncomfortable that someone would think he'd never sat in one before.

"Are you okay?" Buck asks. "Why are you here?"

"This chair is so weird."

"Tommy, what do you want to talk about?"

It startles Tommy, and it should. He only got soft and smitten, totally-in-love (even if he couldn't admit it out loud) Evan Buckley, cute and bratty Evan Buckley. He doesn't get that Evan anymore. No one has.

Tommy sits with his feet flat on the floor and his hands folded in his lap. He takes a minute, a long minute, of staring at the floor before he looks up and stares at Buck. "You asked me to move in with you."

Buck blinks. "I did."

"You asked me to move in with you."

"You said that. I mean, I said that, but you—"

"Evan," Tommy interrupts.

"I thought I was Buck now," Buck interrupts.

Bitchiness lurks on Tommy's tongue, but he holds it back. "You asked me to move in with you. Into the loft."

Buck tilts his head. "Yeah?"

Tommy shuts his eyes hard and shakes his head before he looks at Buck again. "Evan, I own a house."

"... okay?"

"Did you ask me to move in with you and expect me to give up my house?"

"What, no—" Buck says, then stops himself. "I don't—I didn't think—"

"Did you even think about that?" Tommy asks. "Like when you talked about moving in together, getting married, the future, all of that—did you even remember that I own a house?"

"You know," Buck interrupts. "Four months ago, you could have said, haha, wow, that's moving pretty fast, also I own a house, maybe when we're ready, we could move into MY HOUSE and make it OUR HOUSE, but you needed to run out the door so why would you say any of that?"

"Yeah! I was freaked out! Because here was this guy I—this guy I really liked, and he asked me, a 40-year-old man, to move into his loft?"

"What's wrong with it? Why do you keep saying it like that?"

"It's downtown! Downtown is loud and filthy and did I mention it's noisy? It was hell sleeping there in the summer because even with your central air, heat rises and it rises right into the bedroom. I saw your electric bill, Evan, it was unforgivable."

Buck wants to throw something at him. "And we could have been at your house, quiet and with better temperature control, but we weren't because…?"

"I'm just saying," Tommy continues. "Yeah, all that's true, but I realized you wanted me, wanted a future with me, and you didn't even remember that when I wasn't working or with you, I was at my house."

"I get that," Buck says. "Now how many times did we hang out at your house?"

Tommy sighs. "It's out of the way, your place was always closer to the 118 and to Harbor, and I kept—I was going to, okay? Like maybe after our anniversary, we'd take a week off together and we'd actually be at my house, or take a trip somewhere—"

"You got me basketball tickets," Buck snipes at him.

Tommy stops completely.

"For our six month anniversary, remember?"

"How the hell am I going to forget that?"

"You got me tickets to see the Lakers. Really good tickets."

Tommy rolls his eyes. "Alright, well, that's the last time I call that guy I know in the press office for anything."

Buck thinks he's getting closer to setting something on fire with his mind. "I hate basketball."

Tommy stares at him. "What the hell are you talking about? We met because of basketball."

Buck sits up so quickly and angrily he starts wheezing and that turns into a coughing fit. Tommy's immediately there, sitting on the edge of his bed with water, getting him to take a small sip as he rubs his back. When Buck realizes what's happening, he covers his mouth with his blanket and shoves Tommy away, coughing even more.

"Sorry, I was just—"

"I have turkey flu!" Buck yells through the blanket covering his mouth.

"The doctor said you're not contagious anymore."

Buck points at a small paper box across the room. Tommy, so put-upon, grabs a pale yellow mask and slips it on before he sits in the chair again. "Sorry."

"It's—" Buck halts because Tommy had grabbed two masks and was holding one out to him expectantly. Tommy motions to it again and Buck can see how he wants to make a bitchy comment about not having this conversation through a hospital blanket, but he doesn't. That's what makes Buck reach out and put the mask on. The icy fist around his heart thinks about melting.

"We didn't meet because of basketball, we met because of Bobby and Athena and the cruise ship," Buck corrects. "I wanted to see you again after that tour at Harbor but I couldn't think of another reason—"

"I gave you the widest of openings," Tommy interrupts. "Hello? Flight lessons? When you finally offered to buy me a beer, I almost dropped to my knees right then and there."

"But you never called me! You're the one who left to hang out with Eddie!"

Tommy throws up his hands. "Ball was in your court! Speaking of basketball."

Buck sighs, exasperated. "We weren't, like, running into each other, I didn't have a reason to call you—don't say the beer—so finally I saw Eddie was going to that pick-up game with you and I dragged Chimney along."

"Right," Tommy says. "And you played basketball with us. We kicked your ass in a way that made me think you were pretending to be bad at it to make me feel good or something? And then there was the whole thing with Eddie's ankle."

"I hate basketball!"

"You brought your own ball!"

"I same-day ordered a basketball so that when I showed up you'd be like, wow, that guy's ready for basketball, what a cool guy!"

"So you're mad that your basketball ruse worked on my dumb ass, and worked so well for six months that I got you Lakers tickets for our anniversary."

Buck's so annoyed that he put it like that. Maybe that's true, but he didn't have to say it. "I don't like basketball! It was a ruse but I didn't hide it after. You watched games with Eddie and I never came along because I don't like basketball."

"You said you wanted us to have our Eddie-Tommy friend time!"

"Why do you make me sound and feel like a five-year-old? Eddie-Tommy friend time? Seriously?"

Tommy folds his hands together like he's in prayer and shuts his eyes. "Okay, listen, I just. I wanted to get the house thing off my chest, alright? Because it's—it's bothered me so much."

Buck could argue about the basketball thing for about another 500 years, except that Tommy has said what he said. "Has it?"

Tommy puts his hands in his lap again, folded politely as he looks at Buck. "I meant what I said. You were so swept away in how new and exciting everything felt, that I felt like you forgot who you were talking to. Like… I'm not a guy who's going to move in with you. I'm a guy who has a house with a home gym and a car lift, and—and the winter was so mild that I put in this little patio space in the backyard. I bought furniture for it. I took this corner of my front lawn, too, and started to plan a pollinator's garden because they sounded really interesting after those three days of bee hell. Evan, I have a house."

"You keep saying that," Buck says. His ears are burning, but he's listening too intently to feel embarrassed about it (much).

"I freaked out, alright? Because I heard: give up your house to live in this downtown loft with a couch that has a faded but GIANT blood and placenta stain on the other side of the cushion, and then the words engaged and married got thrown in there, too? All in the same breath?"

Buck stares flatly, then nods. "Yeah. I get it. Sorry." He clears his throat and grabs his water before Tommy can offer it to him. He takes a sip, looking at Tommy before he nods at the closed door. "Are we done here?"

"And I'm not a gay rights hero," Tommy adds. "You said that, too." Tommy looks away, and looks so miserable. "I'm just a guy, Evan. I've been burned before by younger guys who thought I was everything that their first gay boyfriend should be, and then—and they didn't see who I was. It's always—" Tommy holds out his hands like he's balancing scales. "Not straight enough to fake a life with a woman, not gay enough to have a real life with a man."

Buck hasn't done this in so long that his throat almost aches with it. He sighs, pained and breathless, the word crinkling against the mask: "Tommy." He swallows again and asks, "Did you really think that was me?"

Another long pause. It ends with Tommy saying, "I thought you were too good to be true."

"I'm not, though, I'm—I'm just me," Buck says. "And I did have a lot to figure out, but not about you."

Tommy laughs suddenly. "Really? Because you forgot I was a homeowner and I didn't know you hated basketball. Did you even go to that game?"

Buck coughs. "I gave the tickets to Karen and she took one of her brothers. They're nuts about the Lakers."

"Huh," Tommy says. "Well. I'm not mad about that."

The two of them are quiet until Buck says, "Seems there's a lot of things we don't know about each other."

Tommy glances at him; Buck can see the shape of his smirk beneath the mask, and the very specific way it makes his eyes crinkle. "And just when we thought we knew everything about each other."

"Yeah, I thought that, too, and then you dropped that you were engaged to my first serious girlfriend at our six month anniversary dinner." Buck raises his eyebrows. "Do you land helicopters that smoothly, too?"

"I got you here, didn't I?" Tommy bites back, then catches himself with a laugh. "Okay. Fair point."

It's so easy, it's so easy, it's so easy, it's so easy and Buck hasn't had it easy for months. He hasn't had these quips, this back-and-forth, this person who got him until he didn't, who—Buck rubs at his eyes. Tommy made it easy. He made everything easy. Not perfect, not effortless, but easy. Easier.

"So, uh." Buck fusses with the blanket in his lap. "What have you been doing for the past four months? You, uh…"

"Am I seeing anyone?" Buck nods. "I was, yeah. Didn't last that long."

Buck can't help himself: "Neither did we."

"Ouch." Tommy looks back. "And you?"

"Yeah," Buck says. "I liked them but I broke up with them because it just—it wasn't going anywhere."

"And what's wrong with that? Staying in one place? Isn't that what you wanted for us?"

It's not, but Buck can't articulate it, so he says, "Do you think that's the same?"

A beat, and then Tommy says: "No. No, I don't."

"Tommy," Buck says quietly. "How many people do I have to be with before you decide I've figured it out?"

Tommy's eyes widen. "What? I never said that."

"Tell me what you said, then." Buck swallows painfully, that turkey flu kicking his ass harder than he thought. "Tell me what you meant when you said I didn't know what I wanted. Because I told you what I wanted. I told you I was ready for something and all the things we did together, I thought that you believed me. I guess you didn't, so tell me how many bodies it'll take before you believe me."

Tommy doesn't say anything.

"God, and you know what really sucks?" Buck asks. "That we were together long enough to talk about who we'd been with so we could get tested and be safe. We talked about all that, but I never told you how many times I'd had my heart broken and you never told me yours."

"Three," Tommy eventually says. "Shawn, who was like… all of 25. He was all-in, knowing for sure that the first time was the charm, and I was old enough and steady enough to be That Guy. I believed the hype even though I was barely out of the closet. I shouldn't throw stones at Abby's House of Himbos when I set up my own on the other side of town. And then there was Raúl, my Army buddy who came out to his family and immediately moved to LA to get away from them. Everything felt like a fresh start for him, but… not quite for me."

Buck thinks to ask, but Tommy beats him to it. "Do I need to say the third?" Buck shakes his head. "What about you?"

"Abby, and you." Buck looks at Tommy as he says, "It's not just ending things with someone because it doesn't work. It's heart break. Something's gotta break and be mended."

"I don't think I did that part. You've one-upped me there."

Buck wouldn't have believed that 20 minutes ago, but he believes it now.

"So Bobby's been there, watched me since I was Abby's himbo and helped me to grow into the person who wanted that stuff with you. Once he, kinda, told me that if I care about how people see me, then I haven't learned a damn thing," Buck says. "And that is and isn't true, here. I can't live hoping I meet people's expectations of what they think I should be. I want people—I wanted you—to see me as I am. I thought you did but you didn't, and I didn't either because I didn't see how scared you were. I've made my peace with that. We had something really special and made each other feel really good but, in the end, I guess we were saying all the right things to people we didn't know."

Tommy listens, considers, and nods. "Whole lot of past tense, there."

Buck glances at him and doesn't want to look away, but he does. He doesn't meet Tommy's eyes. He's scared, too. He's done enough today: said a lot of things he's been thinking about for four months and said them very calmly and thoughtfully, but this is gonna hurt. It hurt Buck to realize it and it's gonna hurt Tommy to hear it.

"You got what you wanted, right?" Buck asks. "You got to keep your heart, and I don't feel new and excited anymore." Buck inhales deep; it hurts. "I feel like I did before, like I'm short one piece of being whole. Now the ocean I have to search is so much wider and deeper. So thanks for that, I guess."

"Evan—"

"I let you into my family," Buck interrupts sharply. "Because I cared about you and because you fit. I fit because they're mine and that's my family I made, and you fit there right next to me. With us."

"You're absolutely right."

Buck watches him, tries to see behind the sunshine yellow and white mask on his face, but all he sees are his eyes that, like always, make Buck feel too much, like laser beams disintegrating him.

"Were you really that scared?" Buck can't help the way his voice cracks. "You were that scared of me?"

Tommy looks up again, lasers in place. "I was that in love with you." He shakes his head like he did that last night in the kitchen, and looks up like he'll tip the tears back into his eyes. "And those heartbreaks—you'd leave them light-years behind if I let you. You'd leave me light-years behind."

Buck nods, then says, "Could you leave, please." His wet breathing crinkles grossly in the mask. "Thanks for telling me all this, thanks for the closure, but I don't need to see what someone looks like after they've walked away from me."

"You collapsed at a scene three days ago and I was the closest pilot to medevac you here," Tommy says slowly. "You were delirious and told Shreya, Don't tell Tommy I'm sick, he doesn't care anymore."

Tommy clears his throat. "I do care. I never stopped."

Buck sits back in his hospital bed and pulls the blanket up to his neck, the only comfort he's got right now. "If this is a turkey flu dream, I'm gonna be so pissed at you, real you," Buck says.

Tommy laughs quietly, sadly, then hesitates for a moment. "Can I ask you something? Can I ask you the scariest thing I've ever asked anyone in my entire life?"

Buck doesn't move, doesn't breathe. "What is it?" he finally asks.

"Will you give me a second chance?"

Buck, hearing what he's quietly dreamed of hearing for four months, doesn't feel the euphoria he thought he would. He feels something else, though: a strange kind of wonder that someone wants him again. Again. He swallows hard, feeling the pain right in his turkey-flu-ridden throat. Someone knew him. Someone left him. Someone came back—came back for him.

Tommy left. Tommy came back. Tommy wanted him then. Tommy wants him now. Tommy's wanted him all along.           

Buck asks, "Will you invite me to your place more than once every six months?"

Tommy's half-smile is still wide enough for Buck to see behind the mask. It falls, though, back into something serious. "Will you forgive me when I'm not a paragon of queer virtue?"

"Will you believe me when I tell you I've fucked around and found out enough for a lifetime?"

Tommy raises his eyebrows ever so slightly. "Will you believe me when I tell you I've fucked around and found out enough for a lifetime?"

Buck thinks he smiles a little behind his mask, but it doesn't stay. "Are we gonna break up again?"

"I don't know," Tommy admits. "But maybe next time we can stop each other and hit the brakes. I love romcoms, but maybe we don't do that again: you don't propose fixing a problem with marriage and a baby, and I won't run out the door."

Buck raises his eyebrows, too. "Who said anything about a baby?"

Tommy sputters. "I mean, you were the one raising the stakes before."

Buck laughs. "Right, right."

The quiet stretches out between them. They look at each other and don't look away. The stubborn, proud, cocky side of Buck feels annoyed that this feels like—like he can't get out of this. Like all roads lead back to Tommy, like he doesn't have a choice. Like if he wants to be happy, it's with this person.

A part of him wants to run and throw himself into the hunt again. He wants to thrive in the search for someone who makes him feel that euphoria and fondness and love that he felt with Tommy. He tries to imagine someone else, some vague smoky figure that isn't Tommy's height, Tommy's build, Tommy's arms crossed over his chest and that tilt of his head. The problem is that Buck feels more looking at that furrow and arch of his eyebrows than he's felt for anyone he's met in the past four months, maybe even longer.

Not all roads lead to Tommy—only the ones he wants to take.

"Say it again?" Buck asks.

Tommy nods ever so slightly. "I'm in love with you." He pauses and a smile reaches his eyes. "I love you."

Buck can't help the way his eyes water; neither can Tommy.

"Ask me again," Buck says.

"Will you give me a second chance?"

"Yeah." Buck wonders if his own smile reaches his eyes. He hopes it does. "Yeah. Will you?"

Tommy chokes out a laugh behind his mask. "Yeah, god, of course. Of course. You sure?"

"About you?" Buck asks. "Yeah. I mean, I want to be. Don't make me regret it."

"Don't make me give up my real estate."

"Don't make me go to any sports events."

"Seriously? Not even baseball?"

"God," Buck moans. "The sleepiest one of all."

"Hockey's good."

"You hate the Kings."

Tommy scoffs. "Of course I do. You always hate your local teams—you just hate visiting teams more. Can't let management get comfortable."

Buck attempts to take a deep, exasperated breath, but he forgets that he has the fucking turkey flu. He chokes and starts to cough and wheeze, but Tommy's there again. He freely, lovingly pushes Buck further to the other side of the hospital bed so he can sit and take care of him: water, tissues, hand on his chest to steady him, eyes worried and on him.

"It's not official until you kiss me," Buck says. "I'm not contagious."

"I mean, not with turkey flu," Tommy says. "Your Buckness? That I'm not so sure."

"Don't call me that anymore," Buck says.

Tommy puts his cup of water on the table next to Buck's bed, then shifts so he and Buck are closer, face-to-face, head on looking at each other. "How'd you get even brattier in only four months?"

"How'd you forget I was this bratty?"

"At my age, well, everything's starting to go."

Buck laughs, then coughs and wheezes. "Stop making me laugh."

"How'd you forget I was this funny?"

Buck tilts his head. "I didn't. I didn't forget a thing."

Tommy searches his face, then cups his jaw with one hand. Buck doesn't lean into it, just lets Tommy hold him as he tips Buck's chin up ever so slightly.

Then Tommy kisses his forehead and his birthmark, and wraps his arms around Buck. It's the warmest Buck has felt all winter. It finally feels like spring.

---

read on the ao3

[yikesmary]

options — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: where cheol tries his best to make sure your pregnancy cravings are satisfied—by buying what seems to be the whole convenience store

notes: this can be seen as a pt. 2 to this one shot I wrote back in June of last year (I did not know it's been that long since that has been posted wtf), but it can also be seen as a standalone. I got a burst of inspiration suddenly, so enjoy the one shot! <3

disclaimer: I am not pregnant, so whatever I write about pregnancy is through pure guessing, and also, if I decide to google it! so yeah :)

masterlist

"Did you leave any food for the other customers who might want to eat tonight?" you asked in amusement, watching Seungcheol put what seemed like the fifth plastic bag filled with food from the convenience store onto the table.

"Well, you kept on texting me things the baby might want, so I decided to get everything you've been craving and maybe some things that might work," Seungcheol explained, a bit out of breath from how many times he had to go back and forth.

"Baby, don't you think this is a bit too much? I don't even think baby girl will want a fourth of these," you said, rubbing your pregnant belly.

Ever since you and Seungcheol found out you were pregnant, he had become an even more attentive husband, if possible. He had insisted that you were not allowed to lift a single finger throughout your pregnancy, saying that you shouldn't get tired.

You had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? He would wake up the second you called his name, helping you from the bed and waiting outside the bathroom to make sure you didn't fall in or something (it had happened once, and Seungcheol was both worried and amused at the time). You were hungry? Seungcheol was already ordering something from a food delivery app or cooking one of the doctor-approved dishes that he taught himself to make.

He also made sure all of your pregnancy cravings were satisfied, which was why you've found yourself with what must've been the entire convenience store stock in your home. "So where do we start?" you asked, watching as he brought out a ton of different food out of the bags—chips, samgak (and regular) kimbap, ramen packs, and even ice cream from the bags.

"We should probably see if baby wants the already made food, and the ice cream can be a dessert?" He suggested, but you were already eyeing up your favorite ice cream from even before you got pregnant.

Seungcheol saw that you were looking at the ice cream and without fail, gave it to you before going to the freezer in order to put the rest in so they don't melt. "Thank you," you grinned, a mouthful of ice cream, which made him shake his head in endearment.

"Here, smell this," he said, giving you an open bag of chips.

You looked at him weirdly, yet smelled it. "It smells... like chips?" you said and smelt it one more time just to be sure.

"Does the baby want this?" He asked.

"Oh, not really," you shook your head, and he closed up the chip bag and proceeded to grab another bag, presumably to do the same.

"This one?" Seungcheol asked, giving you what looked like the last item, which was a cup tteokbokki.

"Oh, yeah!" You excitedly said.

"Really?!"

"No, I just wanted to make you happy, but the baby's really not liking it," you sighed.

Seungcheol sighed, which made you feel guiltier, as he had bought all of this food, and it was nothing you were currently craving. "I'm so sorry, Cheol. Maybe I can eat something—" you were saying as you were picking up a package of sweet bread, but quickly dropped it once the smell hit your nose.

"No, you shouldn't have to force yourself to eat if you don't like it. It's not your fault our daughter might just be the pickiest eater ever. I'll just bring all of this to practice tomorrow and the guys can eat all of it," Seunghceol shrugged.

You still felt guilty, which he must've seen by the look on your face, which prompted him to grab you gently so he could give you a hug. "Maybe there's something in the fridge?" He suggested, holding your hand and using his thumb to caress the back of your hand.

You thought about it for a moment before releasing Seungcheol's hand, to which he pouted when you did and walked towards the refrigerator. You looked through the fridge, but nothing caught your eye.

Until a bright orange Tupperware lid caught your attention and you grabbed it. Once you opened it, you looked at Seungcheol sheepishly. "I found something to eat.." you said.

Seungcheol stood up walked over to you and looked at the Tupperware. "Isn't this the japchae Mingyu and Jun made?" he asked, and you nodded.

"I guess I'm gonna have to ask them to make you japchae every time you crave it. Or learn it myself,"

taglist: taglist: @belladaises @winterpaos @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @outrologist @stagefrjghts @dahliatopia @exo-saranghajaaa @uhlatcha @watermelon-sugars-things @miniminimingi @venzline @withloveyjh @lockburn-castle @userjunhuii @mypsychicpizzaworld @violetvoo @maevadobreva @soonyoungblr @baekhyunstruly @ryusol @dunixxd @minhwa @ovai @scorpiobitch88 @icyminghao @cookiehaos @duskunt1ldawn

[averysmolkirbo]

"Woahhh, am i in the afterlife?-"

"DUDE. WHAT THE HELL MAN. OUT OF ALLL THE MORTALS I COULDVE GIVEN A GIFT TO, I CHOOSE THE ONE GUY WHO NEVER FIGURES IT OUT???"

"Wha- are you like god or something? wait, I HAD A POWER??"

"YEA. I GAVE YOU THE POWER TO FREEZE TIME AT WILL AND YOU NEVER DID IT??? Waste of a perfectly good gift!!"

"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW. I WAS NEVER TOLD ABOUT THIS?"

"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO MAKE THE DAMN BALONEY SANDWICH."

"wha- what does a baloney sandwich have to do with this???"

"I WATCHED YOU FOR LIKE A MONTH. AND YOU ATE A BALONEY SANDWICH FOR LIKE EVERY MEAL. YOU JUST STOPPED ONE DAY AND NEVER DID IT AGAIN. WHAT THE HELL, MAN. YOU HAD LIKE 50 FUCKNGI YEARS TO EAT ONE FUCKIGN SANDWICH AND YOU COUDLNT DO THAT?"

"Wait. Is this about that time i was like, 20??? I swore off of baloney sandwiches forever after i found my girlfriend cheating on me. That was her favorite. i only had it cuz i was with her."

(mortal, under his breath)

"....That bitch really took my virginity and my godly powers??? DAMN IT!"

"AW OF FUCKING COURSE I CHOOSE THE ONE THING YOU NEVER ATE AGAIN. SHIT. "

"ok so i still dont see why i had to eat a baloney sandwich to use the power. why couldnt i just *use* it. why is this MY fault. YOU shouldve just made it easier to use."

"Wow, i give you powers and this is the fucking thanks i get? See if i ever help you again..."

"Ok so like the thing is im not actually powerful enough to give you a gift that powerful no strings attached. I had to choose an activation condition for it to work."

"And you chose BALONEY SANDWICH? not something like BREATHING?"

"I didn't want to make it obvious!! I wanted to have FUN with it but clearly you were too DENSE for it. Baloney sandwich was the most consistent non-obvious thing you did!! how was i supposed to know you were gonna stop the NEXT DAY?"

"Ok. So while this obviously sucks for both of us, can i use it now? In my afterlife?"

"If you can make a baloney sandwich. I dont see why not."

"Ok. Cool. Is there like a godly pantry i can get the ingredients from, or...."

"Yes, actually, down the hall, to the left, 2 doors down."

"Sweet."

"Oh yea i forgot to mention we only have whole wheat bread"

" >:( aw man. I hate whole wheat. It tastes like shit. What else, you're out of baloney?"

"No......"

"why'd you say it like that"

--------

"Ok i found your stupid bread. but where's the baloney. You said you had some."

"We do, but-"

"ok so where is it."

"-but we keep it in the underworld."

"Why??? What do you guys have against baloney??? Why is only IT condemned to the underworld???"

"No reason! I swear! the guy who runs the place just REALLY likes it and none of us really do, so we just let him keep it down there"

"Yknow since he's like. Already stuck working in the basement. we thought we'd give him SOMETHING."

*one very long and perilous journey for baloney later*

"ok YOU COULDVE AT LEAST TOLD ME HOW HARD THAT WAS GONNA BE."

"I told you, man. He REALLY likes baloney."

"Whatever. i ate your stupid sandwich. how do i activate it."

"Try clapping."

*nothing happens*

"What. Why didnt it work. I ate your stupid baloney sandwich."

"Did you remember to add the mayo?"

"MOTHERFUCKER-"

You're a god who has decided to give a mortal a gift. You decided to surprise them by not telling them about their new power. After a full life of normalcy, you greet them in the afterlife confused and angry as to how they didn't discover their power.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Dark Days Coming

King: hey guys sorry i'm late King: i just could not get up this morning King: feels like I've been sleeping for days King: what did i miss? King: how did the election go? Lovecraft: not too bad King: King: oh no King: oh no oh no oh no

Lovecraft: don't worry steve it won't be so bad Lovecraft: I've heard assurances from the new regime that they only want the trade unionists King: King: King:

Lovecraft: i mean really steve Lovecraft: how bad could it be? [meanwhile] Donald Trump: we're gonna have the biggliest boot stamping on a human face forever Trump: we love the boot stamping on the human face forever, don't we folks? Trump: more and more people are saying they love the boot

Lovecraft: you're overreacting steve Lovecraft: what's trump even going to do? King: well i'm glad you asked King: [unrolls comically long scroll] Lovecraft: oh is this going to be a song

King: well for starters King: decimate reproductive rights King: LGBTQ rights King: labor rights King: civil rights King: accelerate climate change Lovecraft: [sweats] this is making me feel bad steve Lovecraft: i can't wait for trump to outlaw you telling me this stuff!

King: use the military to brutalize americans King: abandon Ukraine King: and as for gaza George Romero: in all honesty steve Romero: that probably won't change much King: oh look! an optimist!

Lovecraft: ok but Lovecraft: has he actually SAID he's going to do any of that? King: yes Lovecraft: oh he was probably just lying Lovecraft: he lies a lot Poe: he does lie a lot

Lovecraft: i think you're overreacting, he's probably not gonna do all the stuff he says he's gonna do King: so you don't believe him? Lovecraft: nope! King: king: then what's his appeal? Lovecraft: well he's just so honest

Lovecraft: a real straight shooter Lovecraft: tells it like it is Lovecraft: says what he means King: King:

King: howard please tell me you didn't vote for trump did you? Lovecraft: [sweats] steve! please! Lovecraft: i'm only a loveable archie bunker style racist Lovecraft: i'm still 100% yang gang King: King: King: i picked a bad day to quit cocaine

King: i really need some cocaine King: edgar you know where i can get some cocaine don't you Poe: steve stay strong Poe: you don't need cocaine King: just one bump King: to get me through the next four years King: i mean few days King: no i mean four years

King: how about a beer? i was an alcoholic too you know King: maybe i'll take that up again King: this is good drinking weather Poe: steve no Poe: dean help me hold him back King: don't try to stop me! Poe: no steve! you've got so much to live for! King: yeah? like what? Poe: well Poe: you've got a loving family King: Joe is pretty great Koontz: and owen! King: King: yeah and owen is alright too i guess

King: yeah he's pretty good King: what the heck, i can say it King: i love owen too! Koontz: and there's naomi too King: whoa wait a second, i have THREE kids?? King: this just keeps getting better!

King: thanks guys i do feel a little better Poe: good, hold onto that Poe: cuz it's going to be a long four years Lovecraft: only four years? i thought we weren't gonna have to vote anymore! Poe: Poe: good drinking weather, huh?

Joyce Carol Oates: huh, i really don't see why the electorate would hate trans people unless they were persuaded by hate speech and fearmongering JK Rowling: well well well look at the fancccy pantsss rich author Rowling: with her out of touch fancccy ideasss about a pluralissstic sssociety! Rowling: with her fancccy german automobile! Oates: this car was made in Guatemala

Rowling: you're clearly too rich to underssstand the feelingsss of the common man Rowling: unlike me, a true daughter of the proletariat Rowling: i know all about the material needsss of the underclassss Rowling: anyway i'm going to insulate my Scottish castle with big bags of money

[puckinghischier]

Dogtooth

jack hughes x fem!reader

WARNING - SMUT!!! minors, DNI. 18+. oral!female receiving, face riding

summary: just a lil jack thot inspired by the song dogtooth by tyler, the creator

notes: this is just a repost of the little jack blurb i posted last night, i just wanted to reformat it so it’d fit in my masterlist better. but!! this is probably my favorite jack thing i’ve ever written and i’m obsessed with this song so, hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[2.3k]

dogtooth by tyler, the creator?? that song is soooooo jack coded.

it’s the right kind of cocky but also the perfect amount of loving his woman, which is exactly how i picture jack to be in a relationship.

he’s a pretty private guy, not enjoying being in the media too much and revealing a ton about his personal life. he hates media because he doesn’t like the feeling of people assuming they know everything about him. but his girl? she knows everything about this man and he basks in the fact she knows him better than anyone else.

and when he’s down for someone? oh he’s down baddddd. i mean, pining level shit. he always wants to be around her. always calling her. always texting her. he just wants her attention 24/7, no matter what he has to do to get it.

he loves to pleasure his girl. and that’s it, really. he loves any second he can spend making her feel good, any way she wants. he doesn’t even care about the reciprocation (though he does love when she returns the favor) because knowing he’s the one to satisfy her needs is enough to put him on cloud nine all by itself.

and the second jack hears this song for the first time? oh he’s got big plans for it. (and you)

you’d be sitting on the couch, waiting on jack to get home from a mid-day skate. he sent you a text telling you he was leaving the rink around thirty minutes ago, expecting him to walk through the door any second.

no sooner than the thought entered your mind, you heard the lock click, signaling his arrival. calling out a greeting, you’re met with silence. you turn your body to see why he’s ignoring you, noticing the small white ear buds stuck in each ear.

he sets his bag down at the door, no doubt filled with his sweat soiled clothes he wants you to wash. waiting on him to look up and acknowledge you, you lay your head on the plush cushions resting against the back of the couch. you watch him, never missing an opportunity to admire how pretty he is.

finally, he looks up and meets your gaze, smiling at your love-filled eyes. he pops one headphone out while walking towards you, rolling it around in his hand.

“hey, sweets,” he leans down to place a small kiss on your waiting lips.

you savor the taste of his lips, always loving their soft feel.

“tried to say hi when you walked in, but guess you couldn’t hear me,” you gesture to the one earbud still lodged in one of his ears.

he gives you a small, apologetic look. “sorry, found a new song i really like. think you will too, actually. made me think about you.”

grabbing his phone from his pocket with his free hand, the one that’s holding the small bluetooth device brushes your hair away from your own ear, comfortably resting the earbud there.

“here’s the thing though….i want you to ride my face while we listen,” he just casually tells you, not even looking up at your face, still fiddling with his phone.

you perk up, surprised at his casualness. “i- what?”

“you heard me, before i press play i want you to ride my face.”

said face in question is dead serious, not an ounce of mischief to be found.

“you…literally just walked through the front door. what happened to asking each other about our days? or discussing what we’re gonna eat for dinner?” you ask him, not knowing how to react to the sudden proposal.

he rolls his eyes playfully. “is this your way of telling me you don’t want to? because you don’t have to. just think it’d really add to the experience, s’all” he shrugs.

you still don’t know how to react to the pure casualness of it all. by the way he’s acting you’d think he’s suggesting watching a movie, not having you ride his face in the middle of the living room.

“i didn’t say i didn’t want to. it’s just a little wild for that to be one of the first things out of your mouth when you get home.”

jack snickers at your words, walking around the large sectional to occupy the spot next to you.

“not really. not for me, at least. been thinking about it all day,” he plops down beside of you, making himself comfortable.

his words shoot excitement down to your core. he’s been thinking about it all day?

before you can think of a response, you feel shuffling next to you on the plush couch. you look over to see jack laying flat on his back, head only slightly raised to look over at you expectantly.

“so, you gonna get rid of those shorts or what?” he asks, referencing your thin, cotton pajama bottoms.

“i swear to god, if i wasn’t turned on right now i’d slap you,” you grumble, standing and removing all clothing below your waist.

jack laughs a real, out loud, laugh this time, prideful in the fact that you’ve never really been able to (or wanted to) resist any of his offers.

he burrows his body further into the couch, making sure he’s in the middle of the large surface, ensuring there’s room for your knees to rest on either side of his head.

you climb to hover over his body, looking down at his hungry eyes that are glued to your bare pussy, following every movement of your body from that landmark.

“shirt off or on?” you ask him, sitting on his toned abdomen.

“off. wanna be able to play with your boobs, please,” he flicks his eyes up to your face, an innocent smile on his own as he bats his eyelashes.

“of course you do,” you remove your (his) t-shirt from your body, now completely bare as you sit on top of him.

“swear they get bigger every time i see them,” he says in awe, bringing a hand up to massage one of your full breasts. you moan as he kneads the flesh, stomach turning flips in anticipation of what’s about to take place.

“gonna press play so we can get started or you just gonna play with my tits all night?” you huff out, loving the feeling but growing needier by the second.

it takes jack a second to register what you’re saying, too lost in the feeling of the heavy skin in his hand.

“oh! yeah, almost forgot,” he reaches up to the back of the couch where he left his phone, picking it up long enough to press play.

you scoot yourself farther up his body, resting your eager core right above his chin. all you’d have to do is relax your thighs the slightest amount to make contact with his mouth. 

suddenly you hear a smooth beat ring out in one ear, assuming jack’s hearing the same.

the second you hear the lyrics “she could ride my face i don’t want nothing in return” pour out of the earbud, jack inched his face up, licking a long, deep stripe through your folds.

you allow yourself to relax, sliding your slick pussy back and forth gently, not wanting to rush.

jack’s nose brushes your clit with every movement. you sigh at the feeling, not realizing how much you needed the friction until now.

the melody in your ear continues, but none of the lyrics are registering anymore. the feeling of jack’s tongue working through you takes every ounce of your attention.

“god, fuck! jack, best idea ever,” you moan out, picking up your pace slightly.

jack groans, letting his tongue still for a moment, allowing you to work yourself over it as you please.

fighting through the bliss radiating throughout your body, you try to focus on the lyrics at least a little bit. the chorus starts repeating, but the lyrics that follow make your head fuzzy in the best way.

“she could ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, except for some her time and all her love, that’s my concern” is what you focus on, the words squeezing your heart and your cunt.

jack smirks into your pussy when he hears you moan, knowing exactly which lyrics elicited the reaction from your body. you’ve always been the type to get off on the sweet nothings he whispers in your ear while he fucks into you, so he knew that line in particular would be especially helpful while his mouth is otherwise occupied.

your pace increases again as the song continues on, already halfway to your release.

jack brings his hands up to hold you still, your hole mere centimeters from his waiting tongue. he guides you to lower yourself onto the muscle, encouraging a slight bobbing motion of your body.

with every depression of your cunt onto his tongue, your clit bumps onto the tip of his nose. the pressure is a delicious form of teasing, the sensation gone nearly as soon as it’s felt each time.

“please, touch me. need you to touch me, jack. so so close,” you pant out, feeling the familiar swirl of your climax forming already.

jack grunts in response, the vibrations sending waves all throughout your body and you’re convinced you can feel it in your toes.

his hands leave your hips, traveling up your body until they find your sensitive buds, pinching and playing with each pink, taut nipple.

you jolt a bit, the motion causing your clit to slam against his nose this time. you cry out at all of the various sensations all at once. full with his tongue, rough hands on your tits, and round nose scraping against your clit.

the pure stimulation of it all forces your orgasm out of you, slamming into your body with the force of a train.

“fuck!” you scream, quickly shooting a hand out to grip the back of the couch, trying to stop yourself from collapsing on jack’s face completely.

you can barely hear the words “she can ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, and will i ever fall in love again? i can’t confirm,” ring through your ear, the soundtrack to your release, literally.

jack continues to work his tongue in and out of your hole while you shake and convulse above him, having to chase your entrance as you move. he continues to knead your sensitive breasts, each squeeze sending small volts through your already spent nerves.

he can feel your release dripping onto his cheeks, chin, and nose. he tries to lap up as much as he can, not wanting to miss a drop of your liquid pleasure.

your taste alone was enough to form the wet spot on his grey sweats, not embarrassed in the slightest he’s literally leaking from how turned on he is. but when he looks up at you above him, skin damp and eyes half rolled into the back of your head, mixed with the feeling of your body tightening around his tongue so harshly he can’t even pull it out, he blows his load right then and there.

he can feel the last flutters of your walls around his tongue, not stopping his movements until you pull back, having half a mind to keep going and work another orgasm out of your sensitive state. he moans through his own unprompted release, the only thing keeping him from following his sudden impulse to overstimulate you.

once the tired muscles in your thighs stop shaking, and your breath evens out, you can hear the fading of the music in your ear, signaling the end of the song. you push up slightly on your knees, detaching yourself from jack’s mouth as he chases your now swollen cunt, a small whine escaping him at the action.

“jack…the song’s over,” you manage the words somehow, in awe that he made you come in only a single song’s length.

“i can hit replay,” he rushes out, already reaching to grab his phone again.

you squeak out a slightly panicked “no,” while shaking your head, worried if he started again you might actually explode. you let yourself relax fully, scooting back so you can rest yourself on his lower abdomen once again, but the feeling of something wet stops you.

jerking back up, you turn and look down, spotting the large, wet stain on his sweatpants. you can’t stop staring at it, wondering if you’re really looking at what you think you’re looking at.

“jack…did you…” you trail off, turning back around to look at him.

he smirks as he leans himself up on his elbows. “sure did, sweets. you have no clue how much i enjoyed that.”

you laugh at his pride filled face. “pretty sure i do, seeing as i just sat on the evidence.”

he simply shrugs, patting your bare ass lightly to signal you to stand. you swing your legs over his body, standing and bending over to pick up your discarded underwear and slide it back up your legs.

“so….about that dinner conversation,” you ask him as he stands, suddenly way hungrier than you were when he first got home.

it’s his turn to laugh at you, walking over and removing the now silent earbud from your ear.

“whatever you want is fine with me. i already ate,” he gives you a kiss on the forehead then turns to walk towards the bedroom.

“oh…not even right, you dick,” you huff, following it with telling him you’re ordering his least favorite take out, a punishment for his sass.

making your way to the kitchen to dig through the different take out menus, you hear jack shout your name once again.

“i was thinking, how do you feel about that being our wedding song?” he asks, poking his now shirtless, but clean sweats clad, figure out of the bedroom door.

“jack!” you shout, scolding him as his loud cackle rings out around you, causing your own amused smile to break out on your face.

[antimonyandthyme]

carcar 28 if you are still doing prompts :)

carcar pt 1; curse of obedience/can’t disobey a direct order

“So,” Oscar says, “if I were to say—”

“Don’t,” Carlos says, all urgent, eyes wider than Oscar’s ever seen them. “Oscar!”

He’ll remember this moment after. Go back to it every so often, when his brain sees fit to carve out versions of himself to dissect. Savage, impulsive. Vindictive even. Couldn’t even have picked something non-life threatening, like Drink this drip coffee, which I know you’d rather die than put on your tongue. Had to go for this.

“—run out into traffic, without looking—”

Carlos stands up so fast the chair clatters behind him. Bit of a shock. Oscar looks around, waits for the crowd to laugh along, for him to be allowed in on the prank. The café’s busy, people rippling past them to get to where they need to be. Carlos turns toward the door.

“Carlos,” Oscar says. The vacant look on Carlos’s face scrapes against Oscar’s bare skin like a grater. “What are you doing?”

Carlos gives no response, eyes trained only on the door. Dimly, Oscar wonders if this is how he looks under the helmet.

No, no. Even while racing, Carlos wouldn’t look like this. Surely, his jaw would run askew, his teeth would find his lower lip, his eyes dance bright and hungry.

“Carlos,” Oscar says again. He barely registers his pulse spiking.

Two steps are all it takes for Carlos to get up to full speed, as if he’s got a rabid dog on his heels. He’s a bullet shot out the door, a blur of red.

Oscar’s supposed to have reflexes made from lightning. Fastest in the world, isn’t he? But he stares, uncomprehending, and stares some more through the endless bay windows, as Carlos, uncaring that the crosswalk’s sign is still red, dashes onto the road. He runs, cutting through the continuous stream of metal as if his body were made of something divine.

A car swerves violently, a honk sounds. The ignition Oscar needs to snap out of his daze. Combustion, power. He propels forward, mouth already formed around syllables.

“Carlos,” he screams. “Carlos, stop! Come back!”

He must not be able to hear me. That must be the only reason Carlos keeps running, narrowly avoiding a speeding motorcycle. What did he say, when Oscar was dismissing his confession as a joke? He said—he’s being made to listen, right? To listen and obey. Oscar just has to reach him, so Carlos can listen.

Carlos is too far ahead, outstripping Oscar with an unrecognizable single-mindedness. Oscar’s yelling himself hoarse, but it’s too loud all around them, tires screeching, tearing at his ears. Chaos around them, Oscar unable to reign it in. Even in the rainiest conditions, he’d been able to find more grip than this.

The crosswalk melts onto the sidewalk, and for a blessed second, Oscar thinks it’s over, that Carlos has done all he’s needed to do, carried out the cruel task Oscar’s laid out for him like the gods before Heracles.

Then Carlos turns the corner, still running.

“Carlos!” Oscar’s face is wet, for some reason. A flickering image of Carlos meeting a car sears itself into the back of his eyelids, spills more liquid out. “Come back, please!  Please, god. Come back.”

Clarity, even in panic. If he’s braved speeds most people can’t comprehend, forces that could bend and even break a neck, then what is running blind into traffic?

He doesn’t look as he steps off the curb this time. Adjusts his focus to match Carlos’s. Speeds up in a way that is second nature. A driver swearing at him, a blinding flash from a headlight too close for comfort, but Oscar keeps running. Slowly but surely gaining on his target, overtaking within his reach.

“Stop,” he begs. “Carlos, you can stop now.”

Carlos’s feet ground to a halt.

Momentum carries him to a collision. Oscar flings his arms around Carlos, drags him out of the way just as a truck blares past their intended path.

--

“Asshole, you fucking asshole.” Big, gulping, uneven inhales. “Why did I, why did I go to you, I’m such an idiot, why did I even think you would, ah, fuck. Fuck.” His voice cracks into tiny pieces. “Stupid, stupid. Such a fucking idiot.”

Oscar tightens his hold around Carlos. Dead man’s grip, he’s not letting go. Even though they’re both shaking so hard each breath feels like a bruise. Carlos’s shoulder knocks into Oscar’s teeth, hard enough to cut his lip. Doesn’t matter, he’s not letting go. Oscar tugs Carlos, still trembling, over to the wall of the deserted street they’ve found themselves in. He sinks to the ground, back against the wall, pulling Carlos down with him.

“Breathe,” he says, a little hysterically. “Carlos, come on. Breathe.”

Deep, deep breaths, swelling through both their bodies. Fuck, fuck. Was that also a command? Could he tell Carlos to stop breathing and would Carlos just stop—

“Breathe!” Oscar nearly shouts, to force all other thoughts out of his head. “Carlos, listen to me, you’re alright.”

“—hate you,” Carlos is saying furiously. Oscar squeezes his eyes shut against the pain that lances through him. Nothing like the sting of his bleeding lip; this settles far deeper. “I can’t believe I, you. You.” More air, sucked through rattling lungs. “I shouldn’t have come to you.”

“Why did you?” Oscar says brokenly. He squeezes Carlos to him, then even though he shouldn’t, shouldn’t be allowed to, buries his forehead in the dip between Carlos’s shoulder blades. Selfishly uses Carlos to buttress himself. “Tell me.”

Another command, he realizes too late. Can he not even be in Carlos’s vicinity without being such a dickhead, fuck.

“I thought you wouldn’t.” Carlos’s chest heaves, his throat forcing out words against his will. “Of all people. You wouldn’t use it against me.”

“I wouldn’t,” Oscar whispers, like the greatest hypocrite in all the earth.

Oscar’s never heard Carlos laugh like that, derisive, painfully disparaging. All those times before, when Carlos had teased him, even after a race mistake, he’s done so maybe a little mockingly, but gently all the same. Prodding at Oscar with his bared teeth, but carefully enough he never broke skin. And now he sounds like he would be happy to be wiped clean of Oscar entirely.

Oscar cringes, tries to hide by burrowing further into Carlos’s back. This must be what being flayed alive feels like.

“You wouldn’t!” Carlos says, voice raising high and thready. “After you tried to kill me. After you made me, made me run like a dog huh? Was that fun for you? You like that, huh?”

Carlos’s shoulders pull uncomfortably taut. His shaking slows, the drug of adrenaline siphoning away. The rhythm of his breath changes, stutters, then quickens. His throat releases something wounded. The arm Oscar has braced against Carlos’s chest catches stray droplets, running off Carlos’s chin.

Oscar’s never going to be able to forget the way Carlos sounds broken down. Can’t do anything. Can’t even say something like, Don’t cry, for fear of stuffing all of Carlos’s tears back into him like a botched surgery.

He holds Carlos closer. Lips on the back of Carlos’s neck like he’s allowed, like he can impart I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry I’m so fucking stupid it will never happen again I promise. I promise.

“Breathe,” he says.

“Leave me alone,” Carlos says weakly.

 Nope, no. Never. “Breathe.”

“Just, leave me alone Oscar.” Carlos struggles in Oscar’s grip, a fish caught in a trap. He doesn’t have the leverage to break free, winded as he is, with one arm tucked under his own shirt, fingers pinching his side so hard the flesh’s turned white.

“You’re hurting yourself,” Oscar says softly. “Please let go, Carlos.”

Carlos’s fingers unclench. He lets out a low, hurt whine, frustration, anger at his own helplessness, at having to listen to Oscar. Of all people. “Fuck you,” Carlos says.

By the third time Oscar repeats it, his mind’s made up. “Breathe,” he orders. “Carlos. I’m going to fix this.”

(put that guy in a situation prompts)

[daughters-of-liberty]

I had a similar experience to greater-than-the-sword when my cat grew ill. Not being with her while they fruitlessly tried to figure out what was wrong with her, was very trying at the time.

As a retail worker, I saw the best and worst of humanity. I was routinely tipped by customers as thanks "for doing my job". I saw someone pay for someone else's groceries because they lost their job and couldn't pay, leaving them in grateful tears. In addition to our store's curbside and delivery services being offered, we had local young people offer to deliver groceries to elderly people in town so they wouldn't have to leave home and risk infection.

But the bad far outweighed the good, I'm sorry to say:

I lived and worked in a border down at the time. My state did not implement mandates until August 2020. We had people come over from our neighboring state and yell at us for not wearing masks, only to storm off in a huff when we told them we did not have mask mandates, and vow to never shop there again! ...They were back the next week.

I have severe social anxiety and wearing a mask made my periods of hyperventilating worse, as you can imagine. But, I didn't have a medical exemption. Still, my boss stood by those of us that found it difficult or even traumatizing to wear a mask. In my department, I worked with two women, let's call them Jane and Alice. Alice had severe asthma, to the point that wearing a mask set off such bad asthma attacks, she'd have to go home for the day. And Jane's last birth saw her forced into a ventilator mask, so she associated masks with her birth trauma.

Even after mandates were enacted in our state, some of us were told by our boss that we didn't have to wear a mask because of our circumstances. The worst social harassment I have ever experienced happened during this time, as others documented above. When the threat of fines became too much for our employer, we few were finally forced into compliance. Jane, Alice, and I really struggled that first week. Jane had a panic attack on the floor and had to go home for the day. Alice had an asthma attack and had to go home for the day. I had a panic attack in the back, and one of the other department managers (who was an Afghanistan vet with PTSD) had to help me through it. I did not go home that day.

I remember those same karens that yelled at me for not wearing a mask were now very smug. "Oh, looks like you have to wear masks now, huh?" I tried to hide the violent thoughts I had in that moment, but the fact they quickly glanced away after meeting my eyes told me I had failed.

I remember one time, after curfews were put into effect (mostly for teenagers, I should point out), I was followed home after a closing shift by a cop, ensuring I never went anywhere but work and home. I waited a minute or two and left to go get some food at the gas station despite having food at home, my tiny act of rebellion against the stupid curfews that didn't apply to me anyway, because I was a legal adult.

My mother lived in the neighboring state, which had curfews that applied to everybody, not just teenagers. I can't recall what time at night they were enacted, but they didn't lift until like 7/8 in the morning. Small problem: my mother opened at her job, meaning she had to be there before 6. Why her department had to open at 6 when customers weren't even supposed to be on the roads until 7 or 8, I don't know. So, all the department managers had to be given slips that stated they were on their way to/from work to be carried on their person in the event they were pulled over en route.

My stepmother works in a factory in the neighboring state, in a facility with not so great air conditioning. In summer, people typically had fans at their station to help keep cool. During the pandemic, they were banned because they "blew the virus around". I think she said two or three colleagues got heat stroke that summer from lack of fans/air conditioning in combination with the suffocating masks.

I had a coworker who worked at the local nursing home as their full time job. Every week, she had a new story about some poor elderly man or woman, some with dementia or alzheimer's, who had no contact with their families. The saddest story she told was of a man who's family came to visit him, as he was dying of cancer. They couldn't see him face to face. They had to stand outside, in the snow, and wave at him through his window. He died shortly after, not being able to physically say goodbye to his family.

The teenagers I worked with were depressed because they couldn't spend time with their friends in person, were robbed of prom and homecoming, and an actual graduation ceremony. They had a "drive through graduation" followed by a graduation parade down main street. Needless to say, a lot of these kids didn't feel like they had fully passed through that door, like they hadn't really "achieved" anything.

The lasting implications from these events, even in my little corner of the world, cannot be fully known.

We should journal and record what the pandemic hoax was really like...and I mean offline... because I have a feeling this is one the history books and digital world are going to intentionally forget about.

Like remember how they had stores where "for your safety" you were only allowed to buy products they deemed essential. Remember going into a store and sections were roped off and the fucking stores wouldn't let you buy certain things.

I remember going into a dollar store to buy emergency supplies but they were deemed non essential because they were in the camping/outdoor section. I remember that they had employees...regular ass people doing a minimum wage job walking around and harassing customers who were trying to buy anything but food or medicine. Because apparently if you buy food at the store covid wouldn't get you but if you bought a book you were sure to kill yourself and everyone around you. All this during a stage of this "pandemic" where nobody you knew had even heard of anyone who was sick...this was before the jabs came out and people really started "Dying of covid."

You could write a whole chapter about all the times some karen told you to put on a mask and you had to resist the urge to feed them theirs. And remember when they changed the meaning of karen midstream to apply to people who wanted to be left alone and not wear a mask instead of insane entitled people desperate for a sense of power over otherswho make unreasonable demands...like someone who approaches strangers to demand they cover their face so they feel less afraid.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

No Nut November

How I headcanon the lads men participating in NNN A/N: ‼️MDNI‼️ me personally I'm teasing them all month because why not :) [Requested by: Anon]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

[Succeeded Just Barely]

questions you endlessly about what NNN is and where you even heard of it

starts listing all the pros and cons of this kind of challenge “Are you going to participate or not?” “I have self-control I'll do it”

He really did end up having an insane amount of self-control

you end up being the one who wants him to break

he was on track to make it the entire month allowing you to either ride his fingers or his tongue to satisfy you but you wanted more

ended up pulling that one wicked card of sitting on his lap and putting your boobs in his face and thats how you almost got him

“you have an unfair advantage, but I will restrain myself”

you tried to make him break on the last day and he did and you literally got railed in his office and he nutted after midnight so your plan failed

don’t worry the door was locked he’s not that risky

"I can't believe you actually did it" "working overtime helped"

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

[Failed November 12th]

wasn't going to do it at first but you teased him into agreeing

Is overconfident to start

wants you more now knowing he can’t have you

anything you do he thinks you’re tempting him

“You’re trying to sabotage me!” “Im just grabbing a bowl??”

convinced himself this is what true torture is

constantly taking cold showers to calm himself down

keeps going back and forth between wanting you to leave and wanting you with him at all times

“I can’t do this” he would pull you on top of him tell you how dumb this challenge was

ends up almost creaming his pants just having you on top of him

takes you on every surface he can find and falls asleep still inside you

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

[Failed November 5th]

Already failed unintentionally on the 1st

Kept you up all night on Halloween which bled into November 1st

“We won’t count that so do you want to try it” “I guess”

suffering from day one "I don't like this" "It would help if you stop putting your hands all over me" "That sounds like torture"

Is willing to try but ends up not even lasting a week

tries to find ways around the rules

Started out by him saying “I just want to make you cum” creamed his pants by just eating you out

Asks you to never make him try that again unless you plan on leaving him for a month which is even worse

proceeds to give you a repeat of halloween night after making him wait for almost a week

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

[Failed November 23rd]

He’s one to honor a bet so now you’re the one suffering

“Are you participating as well?” “Sure why not I know you’ll break first”

He wants you to crack first

Starts wearing everything he knows turns you on

“Restrain yourself until December sweetie”

Acts oblivious to what he’s doing

two weeks in he is finding EVERY LOOPHOLE POSSIBLE

could have made the whole month, but you two decided to edge each other by that third week

“You said and I quote ‘No Nut November’ I only edged you sweetie you haven’t lost yet”

Massages you, constantly kissing and nibbling on your neck, goes as far as to play with it or eat you out until you’re right on the edge then stops

It ends up being an edging game between the two of you and you break at the same time and he’s turning you every which way, but loose not stopping until the bed is bent

“I’ll make better rules next year” “We’re not participating next year”

[aritsukemo]

There goes my baaaabyyyy | Multiple Characters

Characters: Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, and Sae Itoshi

Summary: After seeing an abundance of tiktoks about the Usher trend, you decide to try it out on your unsuspecting boyfriend after a while of not seeing him

Warnings: This is the author's attempt at being funny so crack ahead. I apologize in advance.

A/N: Idk what came over me today, but I decided to waste my time writing this anyways after getting inspired by this amazing slideshow on tiktok talking about how each Haikyuu character would react to you doing the Usher trend. This is also my first time writing for Sae ( and I also know virtually nothing about him as I've only seen season 1 of Blue Lock ) so I'm sorry if he's ooc. I just realllyyy wanted to add him as I've been thirsting over edits of him ( and Reo ) for the past day or so.

A sigh of relief escapes through the chapped lips of the soon-to-be world cup competitor Isagi Yoichi. After hard fought battles during the preliminaries and all the stress and trials that come with it, it was finally the time for Isagi to return to his safe haven. He was hesitant for a time as he was still riding the adrenaline rush and wanted to stay back and train with some of the others, but since Bachira was returning to Japan to visit his mom and celebrate with her, it reminded him that he also had someone to return home to; you.

And so, after the longest thirteen hour flight of his life, he was now walking, suitcase in hand, alongside his best friend as the two of them exited the baggage claim and was nearing the lounge where you were allegedly waiting for him.

It had been so long since he's seen you, touched you—held you.. He finds himself wondering, how much has changed? Has your laugh changed at all? Have you switched up your sense of style? Maybe your hair? Do you still taste like the honeyed, buttered pancakes you used to make him every morning? Is your smile still so wide that it creases your cheeks and makes them pudge out more? Do your eyes still gaze at him as if he was made out of gold like they used to?

As he dwells on his thoughts, the yearning for you seeps in more and more like oil filling up a tank. It's heavy and it's only when he's just about to succumb to the weight of it all that he realizes just how much he's truly missed you.

And it seems that he wasn't alone in this feeling.

As he stepped into the lounge, he's met with his first and only warning. A warning that came in the familiar tune of the audio of a certain tiktok you had sent him a week prior before you came sliding his way on your knees. Your voice raised to match the exact pitch of the audio as you sung the infamous lyrics until you came to an abrupt halt when you collided with his stomach, nearly knocking him over with the force you hit him with.

And the only thing he could fathom to do was to stare like a deer in headlights and say, "Uh...what in the world?!"

Bachira couldn't possibly hope to contain his laughter any longer after that.

After seconds of Bachira's wheezing and airless chuckles, it was only when he was beginning to grip his stomach from the pain of his amusement that Isagi finally realized what just happened. And when he did, his entire face flushed a cherry red.

"What- Why are you doing this right now of all time?" He asked, semi-shouting as he grabbed the upper part of your arms—which were wrapped around his waist.

"I missed you, baby~!" You said in a sing-songy voice. And, as you looked up at him with your eyes shining with the familiar gleam he knew just as that same trophy-awarding smile stretched across your face, he found himself faltering for a moment. His shoulders slumping as he began mumbling shyly..

"I- I.. I missed you too.. But please, get up! People are starting to give us weird looks.."

Three months. That's how long it's been since you've last seen him.

Well, that's technically not true. If you wanted to be less dramatic, you could admit that you saw your boyfriend just last week on tv doing his signature dribbling moves and if you wanted to really be frank, you had seen his gorgeous face up close just the other day when he facetimed you and informed you that he'll be home that following afternoon. You could also make it sound much less extreme by simply confessing that you had regularly spoke to Bachira throughout these three months via text and that he'd facetime you at least one a week.

But you didn't want to count any of that.

I mean, sure you got to see him, but you didn't really get to see him. You weren't able to kiss his cheek whenever they perked up and flushed pink. You couldn't run your fingers through his layered hair and watch the satisfying transition of his brown strands turn yellow between your fingertips. You weren't able to hold his chin and watch in awe and fondness as he laughed toothily like a baby kitten..

You haven't seen him, not in all his glory which, to you, was like not seeing him at all. That said, three months of that torture was unbearable.

But all of that pain was forgotten in a matter of seconds at the odd sound of drums playing in the distance.

You didn't have any time to react to—or rather, process—what was happening or prepare yourself before Bachira got a running start towards you and soon dropped to his knees, sliding the rest of the way up to you with the biggest smile on his face—all while Usher's voice boomed behind him from his back pocket.

You had no choice but to accept fate and allow the love of your life to crash into you and completely knock you to the ground.

As the biting cold of the airport's tiles crept up your skin and all the air was just about knocked from your lungs from unexpectedly hitting the flat surface, Bachira stared down at you from above, cheeks dusted pink which made him look like an excited little kid.

"Hey, babe! It's been so long!" He chirped before coming down to press all his weight onto you as he caged your torso with his arms, his face immediately nearing yours to press a big, wet kiss to your cheek.

If it had been any other situation that he had done this in, you'd probably be annoyed from the embarrassment of having basically half the airport staring at the two of you like you were a bunch of buffoons or, at the very least, the fact that his team was laughing up a storm in the background...but having been as starved of him as you were, all you could do was laugh while relishing in the feeling of his warmth consuming every part of your body as he leaned down again to plant a feverish kiss to your lips.

Feet tapped against the small tile floors of the elevator, thumping against the marble in a rhythm that embodied the very dread of its owner.

After months of dreading this day, Sae had, once again, stepped foot in Japan; a notion he refused to even utter aloud from just how much he despised it.

For a man with such negative opinions about his homeland, his reasons for coming back were quite frivolous in comparison. Though if asked, he lie and say that his passport expired—which wasn't wrong—but deep down he knew the real reason for his return; his partner who he was too prideful to call the love of his life.

It had took some time, and for a while, Sae was forced to come back here every other year or so in secret to visit them per their request, but at last, they had decided that so much time waiting for his semi-yearly visits were too much for their poor heart and that they were ready to take the next step and leave with him to Spain.

Sae had pushed the thought to the very back of his mind, but he was more than glad—overjoyed, even—when you told him of your decision over the phone as he himself was starting to grow restless without you by his side at times.

He had already went through the process of renewing his passport so all that was left was to pick you up and drive to the airport—well, get driven to the airport—where he could finally leave this horrendous country, this time with you snuggled up by his side.

But he should've known that you wouldn't have let things be so simple.

As the doors to the elevator opened and allowed him to, at last, step foot into your lavish home, the symphony of his demise began to rang throughout it and bounce of the walls. Sae paused, face contorting into one of visible perplexment before his eyes widened at the sight of you sliding on your knees towards him, mouth opened as you sang to the beat of the music blasting throughout your home.

Your performance was short, glorious, and came to an end when your face was buried into the smooth fabric of your boyfriend's clothing and you smoothly wrapped your arms around your boyfriend's waist.

And it was only a full minute after such an amazing performance that it finally dawned on him what you were doing. And to that, he simply sighs disappointedly.

"I've changed my mind. You're not going anywhere with me," He said, and despite the blunt tone he douses his words in, it does little to your dazzling smile as you knew full well his words held little weight to them. You find yourself playing into your own bullshit anyways, though, as you begun to whine out in a high pitch you just knew he couldn't stand.

"Aww, but why? All I did was greet my pookie--" "Finish that sentence and I will actually leave you in Japan for another ten years."

You promptly shut your mouth after that, much to Sae's relief.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[annievrse]

pest control

trafalgar law x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb cw: suggestive but nothing crazy!!

"You're so cute."

Law finally lifts his head from his paperwork. "What?"

After numerous tries to get your boyfriend's attention, you capture him, and you aren't letting him go that easy.

"I said you look like a fruit," You shrug quickly from where you sit on the couch across from his desk. The book in your hands sits limply as you focus solely on him.

"That doesn't make any sense," Law says, shaking his head, his pen dangerously close to the page. He'll return to work if you don't say something soon. So, flustered, you close your book.

"You ate a devil fruit."

"Okay, and?"

Your mind races to keep the small talk going, but you come up short. "I don't know, something about fruit."

Sighing, Law raises an eyebrow. "Are you done?"

"Yeah," You deflate, noticing you've lost his attention. When you see his discarded hat on the desk, an idea sneaks into your mind, but think against it when you realise you must stand up to get it, which would ruin your dramatics.

Instead, your book falls to the floor as you dramatically flop to the other side of the couch. You sigh, waiting for Law's eyes to flicker to you.

When they don't, you sigh again.

Law exhales deeply. "You gonna pick that up?"

Smiling smugly, you shrug. "Maybe, maybe not."

He doesn't dignify you with an answer.

You search your brain for something, anything, that'll get him to focus on you. He's been in this office for far too long.

"Is it hot in here?" You ask, unzipping the top half of your jumpsuit. With your deep knowledge of the man, you know this is one of the things that gets his attention. So when he doesn't even look up, you give up.

"I'm leaving."

"What?" The pen stops scratching on the page. Law freezes where he sits and furrows his eyebrows. "Why?"

"I'm bored. Maybe Bepo can—"

"C'mere, sit on my lap."

You tilt your head. "Won't I be distracting you?"

"More than you are now?" He quips, a smirk on his lips. "No."

Your cheeks warm, and you trudge over to him. Your fingers find the zipper of your jumpsuit, and you start pulling it up.

Law is quick to interject. "Leave that down."

Quirking your lips, you suppress a giggle. "Yes, captain."

"Pest," He mumbles, spreading his legs so you can sit down.

His strong thighs under you have you reeling, and obviously, Law knows. "What's wrong? Still bored?"

Shaking your head, you rest your cheek on his shoulder, your arms circling his neck. "Just wanted to see you."

Law knows better than to coddle you, but the way you cling to him has him thinking differently. But, unbeknownst to him, your smile against his skin turns from angel-like to devilish when he puts his pen down.

"How about we go to the bedroom, yeah?"

Nodding, you tighten your grip when he stands up, his hands finding purchase under your thighs. You kiss his neck and slide one hand into his hair, pleased with the goosebumps that gloss his skin.

And even as he transports you to the room and carries you to the bed, you hide your smug grin.

I think it's safe to say your plan was successful.