#there is absolutely nothing about the engineering play going on

[airenyah]

another reason why it could be set during the time skip between ep6 and 7: the trailer ends on this song in the background which is also the same song that plays during the ep7 montage

The Our Skyy 2 Bad Buddy trailer has premiered, and quite honestly they're not giving us much to go on (so don't set too much store by it). What I gather:

Archi and Engine rivalry is very much a thing still – both faculties have to put on a play, but the auditorium is only available for one. So Ajahn Pichai makes them compete to see who gets it ("The faculty that's more prepared gets the auditorium."). Sweeping the exterior grounds with large brooms and construction drawings with truss frames are somehow involved.

Pat and Pran seem to be aware of each other's feelings but their relationship is beset by rivalry, so it looks like the episodes are set as predicted during the timeskip after the Beachside Bet of BBS Ep.6 [4/4] and their sophomore year of BBS Ep.7, in the early part of their "rivalry as courtship" era. But you never know! 🤷‍♂️

A lot of backstage shenanigans between Pat and Pran, and the red backdrop is everywhere.

Their friend groups don't seem aware that the two have embarked on something romantic (i.e., they seem to be seeing only rivalry and competition), which fits placing this in the timeskip.

Wai seems much less like a troublemaker here though.

Pat's hair looks even more hideous than in the earlier Our Skyy 2 trailer. Not easy to make Ohm look bad, but they're managing somehow.

Ohm lost weight after Bad Buddy and looked much leaner in the series he did post-BBS. Strangely he looks bigger in this trailer, almost Pat-sized again (maybe it's the hair and faculty jacket). Nanon looks much the same.

They've changed the filming location for their university, so the ambience is different.

Ink and Pa are in it! And Ink is feeding Pa with shrimp (again). It looks like another hotpot in someone's dorm.

But Pat calls himself "Nong Pat" and asks to be fed shrimp by Pran in front of Ink and Pa. What gives?

Pat and Pran bunk over in that same dorm room (it's not Tinidee), with a tent and Christmas lights – it looks like a planned romantic getaway, but one they're forced to hold indoors away from public view maybe. Their energy there is tender, softer and more vulnerable. And mutual.

They're also seen in a lift for the company Hightem Construction, not LogTech, but they're wearing "Visitor" tags all the same.

Pran wears The Watch, and his PP hobo bag puts in an appearance too.

There are cheek kisses but nothing on the scale of The Rooftop Kiss.

Pat and Pran do some sort of deal behind the scenes, in front of their laptops, sealed with a fistbump.

As noted before by @miscellar and @dribs-and-drabbles (see these links here and here 😍) you CAN'T trust a trailer by Director Aof, so we have six days to find out how much of the above holds true and how much of it turns out to be wool pulled over our eyes. 😂

Waiting on tenterhooks all the same! 😍 And counting down to 31 May 2023... 💖

 ‌

[lear-dot-rpy]

me: thank you for everything sir

my prof: you shouldn't be taking me, you should be annoyed at me.

me, incapable of anger and on the verge of tears: no, still, thank you. even though I failed, you still gave me the opportunity to try and achieve my dreams by helping me shift courses. you still gave a shot to study here in this state university. i still get to live on with no regrets that i didnt try

my prof: ... Ms. Lear, no matter where you may go, I hope you [something I didn't hear]

me: what?

my prof: just looking at you stresses me out. everytime i look at you i feel stressed out. just take a break and do what you want to do in life

me, emotional whiplash: wait what, what do you mean-

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

if I've learned anything from grad school it's to check your sources, and this has proven invaluable in the dozens of instances when I've had an MBA-type try to tell me something about finances or leadership. Case in point:

Firefox serves me clickbaity articles through Pocket, which is fine because I like Firefox. But sometimes an article makes me curious. I'm pretty anal about my finances, and I wondered if this article was, as I suspected, total horseshit, or could potentially benefit me and help me get my spending under control. So let's check the article in question.

It mostly seems like common sense. "...track expenses and income for at least a month before setting a budget...How much money do I have or earn? How much do I want to save?" Basic shit like that. But then I get to this section:

This sounds fucking made up to me. And thankfully, they've provided a source to their claim that "research has repeatedly shown" that writing things down changes behavior. First mistake. What research is this?

Forbes, naturally, my #1 source for absolute dogshit fart-sniffing financial schlock. Forbes is the type of website that guy from high school who constantly posts on linkedin trawls daily for little articles like this that make him feel better about refusing to pay for a decent package for his employees' healthcare (I'm from the United States, a barbaric, conflict-ridden country in the throes of civil unrest, so obsessed with violence that its warlords prioritize weapons over universal medical coverage. I digress). Forbes constantly posts shit like this, and I constantly spend my time at leadership seminars debunking poor consultants who get paid to read these claims credulously. Look at this highlighted text. Does it make sense to you that simply writing your financial goals down would result in a 10x increase in your income? Because if it does, let me make you an offer on this sick ass bridge.

Thankfully, Forbes also makes the mistake of citing their sources. Let's check to see where this hyperlink goes:

SidSavara. I've never heard of this site, but the About section tells me that Sid is "a technology leader who empowers teams to grow into their best selves. He is a life-long learner enjoys developing software, leading teams in delivering mission critical projects, playing guitar and watching football and basketball."

That doesn't mean anything. What are his LinkedIn credentials? With the caveat that anyone can lie on Linkedin, Mr. Savara appears to be a Software Engineer. Which is fine! I'm glad software engineers exist! But Sid's got nothing in his professional history which suggests he knows shit about finance. So I'm already pretty skeptical of his website, which is increasingly looking like a personal fart-huffing blog.

The article itself repeats the credulous claim made in the Forbes story earlier, but this time, provides no link for the 3% story. Mr. Savara is smarter than his colleages at Forbes, it's much wiser to just make shit up.

HOWEVER. I am not the first person to have followed this rabbit hole. Because at the very top of this article, there is a disclaimer.

Uh oh!

Sid's been called out before, and in the follow up to this article, he reveals the truth.

You can guess where this is going.

So to go back to the VERY beginning of this post, both Pocket/Good Housekeeping and Forbes failed to do even the most basic of research, taking the wild claim that writing down your budget may increase your income by 10x on good faith and the word of a(n admittedly honest about his shortcomings) software engineer.

Why did I spend 30 minutes to make a tumblr post about this? Mostly to show off how smart I am, but also to remind folks of just how flimsy any claim on the internet can be. Click those links, follow those sources, and when the sources stop linking, ask why.

[monzamash]

★ bargain bin; —send me a driver + prompt/dialogue starter and i'll write a tiny musing for you

loosen up charles leclerc x you —18+ (sex, mature themes, coarse language) —requested by @tlhd7 (absolute gem) and lovely anon 💖

you knew you were done the second you saw ferrari’s usgp liverly on instagram. the little slither of black peeking out of the collar of charles’ suit already conjuring up wild, wild thoughts. none of them holy. charles looked good in black, that was a well known fact — whether he was wearing a tuxedo or even lounging around in a simple black shirt he looked hot. and although he exuded sunshine energy most of the time, there was a darkness that you enjoyed about him. vexed and flustered charles turned you on.

once you had confirmation from your boyfriend that they were indeed wearing black fireproofs this weekend, the decision was final. you were flying out to texas because nothing was going to stop you from indulging in your greatest fantasy — jet lag who? and nobody was going to stop you from slinking into charles’ drivers room while he prepped for practice. absolutely nobody.

“knock knock…” you playfully greeted, causing charles to glance over from where he was perched on his physio bed. 

“well hello, mon ange… who let you in?” he teased back with a smirk and placed his phone on the table beside him.

“andrea did because i’m actually here to do your warm up massage… fred thought it was really important to get a professional in to make you feel good.” 

charles' soft smile dropped into a devilish smirk, eyes narrowing with desire as soon as his mind registered what you were saying. he liked to roleplay a little, especially on the road when everything felt so serious and tiresome — he loved a sprinkle of spiciness added to the mix and who better to bring it than the woman of his dreams.

“oh well don’t let me stop you, ma’am,” he rushed before laying back down on his front, smiling from ear to ear and giggling into the face hole.

“thank you, sir — i’ll get started on your back first… making sure all those hard knots are worked out before your race,” you stated, brushing your hands down the expanse of his clothed back. the black mesh felt smooth against your palms as you moved them up and down in long strokes, "how's that pressure?”

“incredible but you can be harder if you like,” charles mumbled, his eyes closed while he enjoyed the feeling of your touch. 

“oh, it’s gonna be hard, mr. leclerc — please be patient.” 

you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh into your shoulder — every time you played a character, you struggled to keep it together but eventually the insecurity of it all slowly dissipated as you focused back in. 

you thumbed the hem of his fireproof top and dragged it gently up his back, exposing the tanned skin that beautifully complimented the black fabric, all taut and soft and sprinkled with freckles. each muscle danced under your fingertips as you carefully traced the marks you’d left the night before — the remnants of your reunion making every nerve in your body tingle from the memory. the frenzied fingernail tracks were red, but fading and you could tell charles liked the feeling of your cool palms grazing them by the soft, nearly inaudible moan that slipped from his pursed lips.

“feel good?” you asked, smirking to yourself.

“amazing.” he practically groaned in response. 

“i’ll get you to turn over now so we can shift focus to your front.”

it didn't take long for charles to scurry up and flip over onto his back. he looked like a kid entering a candy store, all wired and wide eyed from what was on offer, and the promise of a sweet treat at the end. you rubbed your hands together and pushed his shirt up a little further before working your hands across his tight abdomen and over his chest, spending a little extra time on the perked nipples that always got his engine revving. to balance out the moans of pleasure, you ghosted your fingertips down his ribs, causing a high pitched giggle to erupt from the man below, immediately cutting the tension bubbling up.

“very ticklish there, ma’am — go lower please…” 

“oh, do you feel tight down here?” you asked innocently while unzipping his suit a little further down his hips.

“very tight - bit lower than that… lower… lower,” charles’ voice grew quieter the closer you got to where he ached until your hand gently grasped his hard cock, “ah, yes - right there,” he sighed. 

you stroked him through the black fireproof trousers, the fabric bunching as your hand worked him over, “ah, i see… very stiff in this area — try to relax for me, charles.” 

the sound of his name falling sultrily from your mouth as you worked him in your hand had him moaning into his arm that had instinctively come up to cover his mouth. the walls of his drivers room were thin, so thin that you’d been told more than once to keep it down. it never stopped you — in fact, maybe it even encouraged the exhibitionist streak you two had. 

through the soft moans, charles eventually grasped consciousness and came up for air - he loved watching you get him off, almost as much as he enjoyed returning the favour. everything about you set him alight — your eyes, your voice and the way you studied every little twitch on his face while you made him feel good.

slowing slightly, you pensively looked down at your hand and tutted, “i think i may need to use some kind of lubrication to really get these stiff knots out…” 

charles eagerly nodded, “do whatever you need to do.”

“as long as you’re sure…” you stated cautiously, peeling down his fireproofs and underwear in one foul swoop, “is it okay if i use my mouth? i think it could really help.” 

a gutteral moan vibrated in charles’ throat as his head lulled back in disbelief, “fuck… i mean, yes- yes, yes, yes, yes.” 

it never took long to have him exactly where you wanted him — you always started with a tiny kitten lick to his tip, your tongue would travel down to the base and back up before taking him fully in your warm mouth. before too long, he was sitting upright and pulsating down the back of your throat with his fingers loosely grasping the back of your head for dear life, needing something, anything to hold onto while you had him seeing stars. his other hand was pressed so hard to his mouth that when you stood up and wiped your lips, you could see a red hand print left in its wake. 

“are you feeling looser now, mr. leclerc?” you teased and massaged his shoulders once more with a smirk lining your swollen lips. 

“oh my god stop or you’ll make me hard again,” charles groaned and pulled you into a passionate kiss, “you will be the death of me eventually, sweet girl.”

a/n— please don't ask me to define "tiny" because this is over 1k words lol i got carried away because i haven't written for charles in a loooong time and these two requests were way too good not to combine! i have no chill. shop the sale event here !!

[reidsbabyhoney]

second chances | s.r.

the one where Spence regrets everything that’s happened in the past six months.

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.3k a/n: this took forever to write because every time i tried writing it i absolutely hated how it came out. i’m hoping i gave them the ending they deserved and that you all love it! also please let me know if there's any warnings I should add.

pt.1 masterlist spencer reid masterlist

The entire car ride home was a blur, and you mean that literally. The tears that coated your eyes never seemed to stop even after you arrived back home. The dull hum of the engine couldn't seem to drown out the noise-deafening pounding in your chest.

You couldn't help but replay every moment from tonight on a loop, the gut wrenching realization that Spencer moved on so quickly, so easily. It felt as if your entire world had been tilted on its axis and you were left to live in a reality that didn't make any sense.

Maya. You hadn't been able to look at her without a sharp pang of jealousy making its way though your chest. The way she spoke to Spencer, so casually, so possessively like you were going to take her from him at any second. But in reality that's what she did to you.

You told yourself that you were fine, that you had enough time to move on and get over that relationship, but its clear you were lying to yourself. Every moment you were in his presence were the few moments of bliss where you could pretend everything with him was normal.

You had loved him. You still did. The harsh truth of that might've hurt worse than tonight's events.

Once you finally arrived home you didn't bother to go inside right away. Turning off the car you sit staring at the dashboard, trying to ground yourself in something, anything but the whirlwind of emotions going on in your mind right now.

As your about to open the door, your phone buzzes in the passenger seat. Picking it up you see it's a message from Penelope.

From: Penny

Are you okay, sweetheart? If you need anything I'm just a phone call away. Please don't let his stupidity ruin your night, we all know how much of an amazing person you are!

A small smile painted its way across your features, though drained and not very genuine.

You quickly texted her back letting her know you were okay and just needed some time to process everything. With that you finally got out of the car making your way inside, preparing for another sleepless night.

-

You had taken the day off. Well technically you didn't request it, it was given to you by Hotch. The team had just gotten back from a long gruesome case and he decided that everyone needed some time to decompress.

It had been a couple weeks since 'The Incident' as Emily has so kindly labeled it. Since then the unkind thoughts hadn't left your mind.

You spent most of the day curled up on the couch barely able to focus on the movies playing on the TV. Your mind was a storm of thoughts that blossomed from that night, though not into flowers, more so like weeds that didn't want to fully be pulled from the ground.

You replayed every word he said that night. Every glance, subtle expression. There was no warmth in his tone, nothing that suggested the gentle, awkward genius who had found solace in your presence.

You knew it hurt, but what hurt more was the realization that Spencer wasn't the only thing you lost that night. You were mourning the loss of what had been,  what could've been.

-

The next morning, you showed up at the office. The decision half-hearted, debating on requesting for another day out of the crowded space. You're not sure what you were expecting, for something to just change overnight, or if you needed to prove to yourself that you could handle it.

You walked in to see the team gathered around the bullpen. Derek was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly to JJ, while Penelope was chattering away in her usual high-energy manner. They all seemed fine, but you knew they could feel your emotions. You had always worn them on your sleeve, and the team was nothing if not perceptive.

And Spencer? He was nowhere to be found.

Your heart dropped, but you quickly masked the disappointment with a neutral expression. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about him right now, not with everything else going on.

As you slid into your chair, you could feel their eyes on you every now and then, but none of them dared to speak up. It was only when the elevator doors opened that you saw Spencer walking toward the bullpen. His usual awkward stride was missing, replaced by something… hesitant. His eyes briefly met yours, but instead of the usual spark of familiarity, there was something different. Something strained.

He was carrying a large coffee cup in his hand, but it seemed like he was just holding it for the sake of holding it.

“y/n,” he said softly, his voice laced with the same uncertainty that had been present in his eyes. You barely met his gaze, your stomach doing somersaults at the sight of him.

“Spence,” you said, offering a forced smile. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, but you couldn’t let yourself show it.

“I, uh, can we talk?” he asked, his words tumbling out in that way that was so quintessentially Spencer.

Your gaze flickered around the room, but you didn’t want to make a scene. “Now’s not the best time.”

He nodded, but you could see the disappointment in his face. He hesitated for a moment before turning away and heading to his own desk. You didn’t watch him go, how could you?

-

Hours passed, and the tension between you and Spencer lingered like a heavy fog. Every now and then, you caught his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away.

You were exhausted. Your mind was scattered. And when you finally gathered the courage to step away from your desk to grab a coffee, it was then that Spencer decided to approach you.

“y/n,” he called out gently, his voice softer now, less urgent.

You paused mid-step, not sure how to respond. His presence was overwhelming, and even though you wanted to retreat, you knew you couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

Turning around slowly, you nodded. “Spencer.”

“Can we talk?” he asked again, this time with more sincerity in his voice.

You studied him carefully, unsure whether you could trust yourself to keep calm. “Do we really need to? I think we’ve said everything we need to say.”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t think we have. At least not yet.” He paused, looking down at his feet. “Please.”

You could hear the desperation in his voice, and for the first time since that night, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. You didn’t know what had changed, but you knew it was something important. You had loved Spencer for so long, and maybe it was time to let him explain himself.

“Alright,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s talk.”

-

The conference room door clicked shut behind you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were trapped. The silence was thick, oppressive. Spencer stood by the window, facing away from you, his shoulders tense, his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. The space between you felt impossibly wide, like an ocean stretching between two distant shores.

You wanted to scream. To demand answers. To ask why. But you couldn’t, because the truth was, you were too scared of what might come next. The flood of emotions coursing through you felt like too much to bear. And the pain? The pain was undying.

Finally, Spencer spoke, but his voice was soft, almost trembling. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his words breaking the stillness in the room, but they did little to ease the ache in your chest.

He turned slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I’m so sorry. For the way I ended things... for pushing you away.”

His gaze finally met yours, but there was no spark there, no warmth. Just an empty, hollow ache, the same one you felt. The distance between you both was palpable.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was giving you space to breathe… to move on. To get away from the chaos that’s always been a part of my life.”

The words struck you like a punch to the gut. Protecting you? Was that what this was? Did he think he was being noble by choosing to shut you out?

“You pushed me away, Spencer,” you said, your voice trembling with the rawness of everything you were holding in. “I didn’t ask for space. I didn’t ask for you to shut me out. I was here… I've always been here.” The anger, the hurt, it all poured out of you, and you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “I just needed you to be honest with me. To tell me the truth, not hide behind your fears.”

His face faltered at your words, and for a moment, he looked like he might crumble under the weight of your pain. “I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking as if he hadn’t even meant to say it. “I was scared that if I kept you close, I would ruin everything. That I’d hurt you more. I thought if I pulled away, you’d be better off without me. But all I’ve done is hurt you even more.”

The truth of his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t bring relief. Instead, it left you feeling raw, exposed. How could he think that? How could he think leaving was the solution? You had been through so much together. But the thought of him choosing to walk away, of him choosing her, it crushed you.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you, Spencer,” you whispered, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. Your heart was breaking, the weight of everything that had happened too much to carry anymore.

“You didn’t just break my heart… you broke me. I was waiting for you. I thought... I thought we could work through this. But you didn’t give me a chance. And now you’re asking me to just… what? To just forget?”

Spencer’s face crumpled as if your words were a physical blow, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He was broken too, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable, scared even. “I don’t want you to forget,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion.

“I just want a chance. A chance to prove that I’m not that guy anymore. That I’m not the one who left you… that I’m the one who’s ready to fight for us.”

You shook your head, a sob escaping before you could stop it. “I don’t know if I can believe you anymore, Spencer. I don’t know if I can trust you after everything.”

He stepped forward, his hands trembling as they reached out toward you. “Please,” he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’ve spent every second of the last six months thinking about how much I screwed up, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, erratic, unsure whether it was breaking or yearning for something—anything that might bring you peace. You knew Spencer had made mistakes, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. You had kept yourself at a distance too, not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified of what this might mean. Of what letting him back in might cost you.

“I’m scared, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m scared that if I let you back in, you’ll leave again. That you’ll hurt me again.”

He closed the distance between you, standing just inches away now. You could see the unshed tears in his eyes, the way his face was etched with guilt and regret. He reached for your hand, but instead of pulling away, you let him. You let him hold you, as fragile as it felt, as broken as you both were in that moment.

“I won’t leave again,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear. I’ll fight for you. For us. I’ll fight for as long as it takes.”

The raw honesty in his voice, his words full of pain, of hope. It made something inside you snap. The walls you had built around your heart were crumbling, piece by piece. You didn’t know if you could ever go back to the way things were, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new. Something better.

“I’m not asking for things to be perfect,” Spencer continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, the small touch making your pulse race. “I just need you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You met his gaze then, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, but this time they weren’t just born from hurt. There was something else there. Something like hope. “I’m not ready to forgive you yet, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to see where this goes. If you really mean it.”

His face softened, the tension easing just a fraction. “I do,” he whispered, his hand still gently holding yours. “I mean it. More than anything.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, you let yourself hold on, just for a moment. You weren’t sure where this would lead, or if you could ever truly forget the pain. But for the first time in a long while, you weren’t alone. And maybe that was enough.

-

It was one of those quiet mornings that felt like a small slice of heaven. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the windows, and the only sound in the apartment was the rhythmic hum of the coffee maker.

The air was still cool from the night before, but the warmth of the morning sun slowly crept in, filling the room with a gentle golden light.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, your bare feet tucked under you, a mug of coffee warming your hands. Your hair was messy from sleep, but you didn’t mind.

You had gotten used to waking up next to Spencer every morning, and the sight of him, still half-asleep, a little rumpled, and incredibly endearing, was one of the small things you’d grown to cherish.

Spencer was at the counter, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he flipped through a pile of paperwork. The clutter of his case files and textbooks was a normal part of your life now, but the way he had rearranged things over the past few months, more neatly than ever before, was a quiet testament to how much he had changed. He wasn’t perfect, but he was working on it. He was trying, and that was all that mattered.

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke the quiet, pulling your attention away from your thoughts.

You looked up from your coffee, meeting his soft brown eyes. He was still wearing his sleep-filled smile, the one that only appeared after a good night’s sleep, when he wasn’t overthinking or buried under a pile of cases.

“I was wondering… would you mind helping me with something later?” His voice was tentative, but there was something else there now, something more confident. He wasn’t afraid to ask for help anymore.

You’d noticed that shift in him over the past few months, the way he wasn’t afraid to lean on you, to let you in when before he would have kept his distance. It had taken time, but now, when he needed you, he knew how to reach for you without hesitation.

“Of course,” you said with a smile, your heart swelling at how far you’d come since that difficult conversation. “What do you need help with?”

Spencer hesitated for just a moment, glancing down at the paperwork. His fingers hovered over the pile, as though unsure how to ask. “I’m working on this case… and I just need to go over the details. I know you’ve got that… special way of seeing things,” he said with a playful grin, using the affectionate nickname you’d earned after countless cases where your instincts had been spot on. “You’re better at spotting the details than I am.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, playfully teasing. “Oh, so now I’m the expert, huh? I thought you were the genius here.”

Spencer’s smile widened, and he shook his head, walking over to the table and taking a seat across from you. He didn’t even try to hide the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you. “You are the expert,” he said softly. “And I’m just the guy who gets to learn from you every day.”

The words lingered between you, warm and comfortable. You reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his hand in a simple, affectionate gesture. A small smile played on your lips as you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to hold anything back. There was no fear of losing each other, no worry that the cracks would reopen. Everything—every single piece of you—had found a place next to him, and for once, it felt right.

“I’ll help you,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Just like I always do.”

Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet sense of gratitude. You knew, deep down, that he wasn’t just thankful for your help with the case. He was thankful for everything—for your patience, for your trust, for the fact that despite all the mistakes and misunderstandings, you were still here. You had come through the storm together, stronger than before, and you could feel it in every touch, in every glance. There was an unspoken understanding between you now. A promise that no matter what came your way, you would face it as a team.

“You know,” Spencer said, his voice low, “I never thought I’d have something like this. Something so... real. So comfortable.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and free, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had plagued your earlier months together. “I think we’ve finally figured out how to make it work,” you said, your voice steady and full of warmth. “No more pushing each other away. No more running. Just… us.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze softening as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. “I’m not running anymore,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice bringing a warmth to your chest. “I’m staying. For good.”

There was no need for more words. You leaned across the table, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow and full of meaning. It wasn’t a kiss filled with urgency or desperation, but one of quiet comfort. One of trust and affection. One that said we’re here, and that was enough.

As you pulled away, you saw the same sense of contentment reflected in his eyes, a peacefulness that had taken months to build but was finally here. You didn’t need anything else, because with Spencer, you had everything you’d ever wanted.

The coffee and case files were long forgotten as the two of you sat there, simply enjoying each other’s company. There was no rush to get to the day, no lingering doubt or fear. Just the warmth of his presence beside you, and the certainty that no matter what the future held, you’d face it together.

all notes and reposts are appreciated!! loving you always xx

divider: @fairytopea

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[ayeforscotland]

What is Dataflow?

This post is inspired by another post about the Crowd Strike IT disaster and a bunch of people being interested in what I mean by Dataflow. Dataflow is my absolute jam and I'm happy to answer as many questions as you like on it. I even put referential pictures in like I'm writing an article, what fun!

I'll probably split this into multiple parts because it'll be a huge post otherwise but here we go!

A Brief History

Our world is dependent on the flow of data. It exists in almost every aspect of our lives and has done so arguably for hundreds if not thousands of years.

At the end of the day, the flow of data is the flow of knowledge and information. Normally most of us refer to data in the context of computing technology (our phones, PCs, tablets etc) but, if we want to get historical about it, the invention of writing and the invention of the Printing Press were great leaps forward in how we increased the flow of information.

Modern Day IT exists for one reason - To support the flow of data.

Whether it's buying something at a shop, sitting staring at an excel sheet at work, or watching Netflix - All of the technology you interact with is to support the flow of data.

Understanding and managing the flow of data is as important to getting us to where we are right now as when we first learned to control and manage water to provide irrigation for early farming and settlement.

Engineering Rigor

When the majority of us turn on the tap to have a drink or take a shower, we expect water to come out. We trust that the water is clean, and we trust that our homes can receive a steady supply of water.

Most of us trust our central heating (insert boiler joke here) and the plugs/sockets in our homes to provide gas and electricity. The reason we trust all of these flows is because there's been rigorous engineering standards built up over decades and centuries.

For example, Scottish Water will understand every component part that makes up their water pipelines. Those pipes, valves, fitting etc will comply with a national, or in some cases international, standard. These companies have diagrams that clearly map all of this out, mostly because they have to legally but also because it also vital for disaster recovery and other compliance issues.

Modern IT

And this is where modern day IT has problems. I'm not saying that modern day tech is a pile of shit. We all have great phones, our PCs can play good games, but it's one thing to craft well-designed products and another thing entirely to think about they all work together.

Because that is what's happened over the past few decades of IT. Organisations have piled on the latest plug-and-play technology (Software or Hardware) and they've built up complex legacy systems that no one really knows how they all work together. They've lost track of how data flows across their organisation which makes the work of cybersecurity, disaster recovery, compliance and general business transformation teams a nightmare.

Some of these systems are entirely dependent on other systems to operate. But that dependency isn't documented. The vast majority of digital transformation projects fail because they get halfway through and realise they hadn't factored in a system that they thought was nothing but was vital to the organisation running.

And this isn't just for-profit organisations, this is the health services, this is national infrastructure, it's everyone.

There's not yet a single standard that says "This is how organisations should control, manage and govern their flows of data."

Why is that relevant to the companies that were affected by Crowd Strike? Would it have stopped it?

Maybe, maybe not. But considering the global impact, it doesn't look like many organisations were prepared for the possibility of a huge chunk of their IT infrastructure going down.

Understanding dataflows help with the preparation for events like this, so organisations can move to mitigate them, and also the recovery side when they do happen. Organisations need to understand which systems are a priority to get back operational and which can be left.

The problem I'm seeing from a lot of organisations at the moment is that they don't know which systems to recover first, and are losing money and reputation while they fight to get things back online. A lot of them are just winging it.

Conclusion of Part 1

Next time I can totally go into diagramming if any of you are interested in that.

How can any organisation actually map their dataflow and what things need to be considered to do so. It'll come across like common sense, but that's why an actual standard is so desperately needed!

[buckyalpine]

Hello Shay ! I’ve been loving the civilian!reader fics, and I had an idea for a fic like that, but with a twist 🫣 reader is bucky’s sweet civilian gf, literal definition of sunshine, basically a lover, not a fighter. She’s a ballet teacher at a local studio (hint hint wink wink). And she lives with him and the team at the tower. One night, while the team is out on a mission, Hydra ambushes the tower and tries to take the reader hostage. And when they learn about it, they rush back home in order to save her. Meanwhile, Bucky and Tony check the footage just to see his precious sweet girl absolutely kicking ass. And I mean hardcore, like she even does the entire widow thigh-neck move. And everyone is like??? And Bucky’s just absolutely fucking HORNY bc “hell I’ve been in between those thighs so many times, you’re telling me I could’ve DIED???”

okay YESSSSS we live for a badass gf who appears to be nothing but sweet sunshine and killer on the inside. Fluffy fluffy and smutty smutty

-

"Be back soon, darling" Bucky cooed, kissing you again and again while everyone boarded the jet, getting in a few more pecks before having to leave on a mission.

"C'mon lover boy, the faster we get going, the faster you get back to your sweetheart!" Tony yelled, shaking his head watching Bucky look a you with puppy eyes, not wanting to leave his sunshine behind. "He's so down bad, I swear"

"Can you blame him, she's so cute" Sam smiled, watching the two of you cling onto each other for a few extra seconds, your form hidden, engulphed in Bucky's thick arms. "Look, you can't even see her when tin man hugs her"

"I'll miss you baby" you kissed Bucky's pouty lips, caressing his scruffy cheek before letting him run off, your cheeks heating up when he blew you another kiss before the doors closed.

"You're a little sap" Nat teased while Bucky blushed, strapping on his gear as the engine roared to life, rumbling as they took off. Bucky had 0 shame in everyone knowing how much he loved you and it started from the day he met you. He got called out immediately, questioned over the dopey smile he had on his face, the blush on his cheeks instantly giving him away.

Soon after you'd started dating, Bucky wanted you closer to him and he didn't have to ask Tony twice; his room was moved to a floor above so you'd have more space to live together. The last thing Bucky wanted was for you to get hurt because of his job. He felt more relaxed knowing you were in he safety of the compound on days where he was away.

"Who would've thought Bucky would be the romantic type"

"I did" Steve groaned, having seen Bucky's flirty side for years but he knew this was different. He hadn't seen his bestfriend like this before, clearly in utterly and desperately in love with you.

"It's adorable" Sam laughed while Bucky continued to smile, scrolling through his phone looking at pictures of you. His camera rolled was filled with various images of you baking, cuddling, sleeping, doing the most mundane things in the world, each making his heart flutter. He felt a pang in his chest, momentarily worried about if you were safe without him, the same anxiety he always felt whenever he had to leave you.

-

You stretched across the sofa, sipping on some hot chocolate and putting on your favorite comfort movie, deciding to have a relaxing night to yourself since the compound was empty. You didn't like when Bucky had to leave but you knew it was part of his job, slipping the fuzzy throw blanket over you shoulders before hitting play.

It had hardly been a few minutes before the screen went black making you blink, wondering if you'd sat on the remote by accident. Suddenly the rest of the lights turned off, a blasting sound coming from the entrance before you heard rushed footsteps nearing you.

Your heart started to race, having no time to hide or think, coming face to face with a number of masked men all towering over you. One grabbed you, pulling out a camera and hitting record, shoving it close to your face with a sinister smile.

"Look who we have, soldat"

-

The jet hadn't been flying for long, a sudden beeping alarm from the security system alerting Tony to check the cameras. His eyes grew wide, seeing the Hydra logo take over the screen before switching the live footage from the hacked system.

"Guys! There's been an attack on the compound!" Tony shouted from the computer, everyone rushing to see what came on screen, billows of smoke emitting from the main wing. Suddenly the screen went black, replaced with a man swearing a black mask, walking around the common room.

"Welcome Mr. Stark" His voice was thick with a Russian accent, the video panning to show the other agents infiltrating the tower. "Where is our soldat"

"You stay the fuck away from my girl" Bucky growled, his heart hammering in his chest, nearly crying when he saw someone grab you and shove you into a chair.

"She's precious to you, isn't she. We'll see you soon" he laughed, before the stream cut off leaving Bucky wanting to scream in frustrating, anxiety clouding all his thoughts, just wanting to get back to you to protect you.

"We have to go help her!" Bucky paced up and down while Tony rerouted the jet, speeding back to save you. "How the fuck do I know what's going on, there has to be something" He pleaded, hating that he no longer had eyes on you.

"Hold on, let me get into the back up feed" Tony tapped away at different keys, getting into the security system, selecting the camera for the common room where you were being held. "Here, I got it! I-Holy shit..."

The sound of screaming screeched through the speaker but it wasn't coming from you.

No.

"B-Barnes, you're girl just killed someone with her thighs" Tony stared at the footage with wide eyes while Bucky and the others watching in awe as your legs wrapped around one of the agents' heads, snapping his neck before flipping over and attacking another one of your assailants.

Bucky nearly choked, watching the men drop to the floor like flies, your arms and legs holding onto the men with a vice like grip until they fell, hardly breaking a sweat each time.

"Do you understand how many time's I've been in between those thighs, you're telling me she could've killed me?!!" Bucky practically moaned, seeing you fight, all his anxiety melting into lust, his cock straining against the thick material of his tac suit.

"Jesus Bucky, you're gonna poke an eye out" Sam's face scrunched up while Bucky adjusted himself, biting his lip to keep from making a sound, his tip leaking, breathing out a sigh of relief seeing you perfectly safe.

"Can't help me, look at her. Better count me out for movie night, m'gonna spent the whole night fuckin'-

"Okay, got it, you're a ridiculous, horny, pervert, and y/n probably won't walk for a week, will you please put that away" Sam shook his head, walking away when he tent in Bucky's pants got worse.

"I'm sorry, we've been housing a Hydra killer all this time?" Tony shook his head as the jet landed, still in disbelief over what everyone had just seen, both impressed and 100% scared of what else you were capable of. "You sure know how to pick em' Barnes"

As soon as the jet hit the floor, Bucky was sprinting off into he compound, running to find you, relief flooding his veins when he saw you sipping on your tea, seated on the couch again. You jumped up from your spot, jumping into your boyfriends arms, clinging onto him while the others also entered, glad to see you were okay. They got to work, clearing up the room, rounding up the few agents that were knocked out for questioning while also giving you and Bucky some privacy.

"Babygirl" Bucky hugged you tightly in his arms, burying his face into your neck, inhaling your soft scent, hoisting you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. "Are you okay doll, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine Bucky" you reassured him, pecking his soft lips, letting him check you over before feeling satisfied you were okay, not finding a scratch on your body.

"Everything okay Buck?" you cocked your head noticing your boyfriends shift in demeanor, his soft baby blue eyes darkening into something else, biting his lip.

"Baby, I had to hold back from pulling my cock out on the jet and touching myself, you know how much that hurt? How hard I was the entire time, struggling not to jet my dick off watching how sexy you looked" He walked you up to your shared bedroom, his erection shamelessly pushing against your clothed core, not bothering to hide it one bit. "Where have you been hiding all that princess"

"Not hiding Bucky, just-never needed to do that" You shrugged shyly, squeezing your thigs around his waist playfully, making him groan as he dropped you on the bed.

"Can't wait to keep my face between these pretty legs that could kill me" He groaned, slicing your clothes off with his pocket knife before diving in without a care in the world, eating you like a man starved, tapping your thighs to wrap around his head.

"C'mon doll, squeeze em'" he moaned, humping against the bed feeling your muscles flex, his eyes rolling back, nearly cumming against the mattress at the strength he could feel, knowing you were holding back from hurting him.

you could kill him if you want.

Fuck, he was going to cum so fast.

-

"Oh god! Bucky!! PLease! D-DOn't STOP"

"That's it gorgeous, so good to me, so fuckin' pretty. won't last baby, gonna cum for you!"

"They're going at it like rabbits, didn't you sound proof their room after the first incident?"

"I did. This is after the sound proofing"

"Gonna fuck your thighs next baby, you got my cock so hard, almost creamed my pants like a teenager watching, you, oh shit-shit-m'so sensitive, keep clenching around my dick, that's it-fuckkk"

"Jesus christ, it's been an hour"

"Did you forget he has the super soldier serum? They're not gonna stop any time soon"

"I'M CUMMING JAMES"

"Gonna fucking cum for you y/n, OH FUCK YESSS you're so sexy when you fight baby, m'gonna fuckin' cum again, I can't stop"

"He's really gonna go all night, isn't he"

"Can you blame him?"

[bunny-jpeg]

Hey Bunny! I'd love scones with hard lemonade, please pretty please. Let Verstappen serve the sweets🥹

Also, your bakery list is literally so creative

the bakery menu

if you wanna request your own order, feel free! the bakery is still open! as for this lovely request, i am very happy with what you picked! not many picked scones so i am very interested. i also got your send message and thank you so much for thinking i'm such a good smut writer!!! order up! i also added a lil something special to this as well <3

scones ("but what if they see us!") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, possessive behaviour, semi-public sex, wolff!reader, daddy issues, degrading language, enemies(???), unprotected sex, sass/bickering

you could always feel max's gaze on your back as you spoke to the mechanics for mercedes. you ignored him however, but the gaze still lingered. you weren't giving him the time of day.

if anything you were going to push that dutch driver to the absolute limit. as you placed a hand on the shoulder of one of the mechanics and gave him a bright smile.

"thank you so much for everything today, you and the team did such a great job!" you could tell that the mechanic in front of you was getting a little heated from the praise. you however kept your voice loud enough for max to hear.

you then pulled away and headed back towards where your father was before the race started. you looked right through max as you walked back. you tried not to stop, you forced yourself to keep moving.

these little games you must play.

you had known max for a while. everyone knew max. you at first didn't pay him much attention, he was driving for another team. not the one you were employed at, the team your father was the head principal of.

"you have to be careful, bärchen." you father warned, "this league is all pretty boys now. you need to make sure you have your head on right. they're all heart breakers."

"like you weren't, papa?" you asked.

he replied, "i know i was. that is why i know what they will do you. stay away and focus on work."

but maybe it was the daddy issues, maybe it was how sweet he was. he didn't treat you like glass, his love was at time obsessive. he was in a way possessive of you. but within six months of being on the job, you were in bed with max verstappen.

a lot of the time it was steamy sex, with the dutchman being the type of lover that made the blush got up to your ears (as if your ankles weren't already there as he fucked you). other times it was him with his arm slung around your waist. talking about nothing, listening to him yap as you felt close to him.

almost like lovers.

you were in monaco for the weekend. you had told your father that after the time of the track you were going to stay at a friend's house, but you promised to be at the race right on time.

the night before practice you and max got into a bit of a fight. you were jealous, there were no strings attached to this agreement. so he was free to see whomever he wanted. so when you saw him on raya, you both chewed each other out.

"fuckin' manwhore."

"oh really? like i didn't have to hear all about that fuckin' engineer for three months. you know, it's hot to talk about other men while someone is fucking you, right? brat."

"slut."

so now like the vindictive bitch you were it was your goal for the day to flirt with as many assistants, mechanics, drivers, anyone who you could. and you made sure to do it in max's line of sight.

before you could reach the ferrari paddock to see what trouble you could get into. you were grabbed by someone and pulled towards them. you were met with max and his lips were on yours.

he had enough. he was done playing this stupid little game with you.

"max."

"shut it."

you two were making out behind a wall in the paddock. hopefully out of prying eyes. his hands gripped your ass while you clutched onto the front his driver's suit.

"but what if they see us!"

"tonight, come over. you still remember the code to get in?" he continued to grab at your ass, massaging the flesh between his large hands.

"i think it's tattooed on my brain. so yes, i can get in."

he chuckled, "good girl, i knew you weren't the stupid whore i thought you were. keep using that brain of yours and maybe i won't have to fuck some sense into you." then smiled at you.

you hated that degrading language made you core sopping wet it was almost uncomfortable. it didn't help that his accent was a thrum in your brain that made all proper thoughts irrelevant.

he knew this too, just like he knew everything else about you.

-

his place was nice. on the outside it reeked of expensive, but the inside reeked of man in his twenties. at least he kept the framed picture you gave him of his cats. something to "add character" to the place.

but there was little time to say hello to the animals, because when you leaned down to pet one of them, max's strong arms came around you.

"don't think you're getting away with today." he said as he watched you stand back straight and he tightened his arms around you. his lips were on your neck while he held you.

"you're a possessive fuck."

"and you're not? i'm talking to a model and you're going to rip her head off. someone likes me."

you dug your nails into his arms and said, "yeah, i don't want herpes at twenty-six."

he replied, voice close to your ear, "oh i bet that's why. not because you're a stupid jealous girl who wants the number one driver all to herself. that this was never casual for you, you're just a coward. just like your father."

you huffed and turned in his arms. you grabbed him by the face and said, "i guess you know a thing or two about coward fathers. how's jos doing these days?"

he scowled at you before he grabbed you by the shirt and kissed you roughly, "fucking bitch."

"oh, lighten up, verstappen."

he made a face before you two went to the bedroom and started to strip one another. max wanted it all off now, he was impatient that way. he wanted to see your naked body before he demolished you.

he got on the edge of the bed and leaned back on his hands. he looked at you with a haziness to his blue eyes, his cock throbbed at the sight of you. also naked and ready for him.

"you're a dog, verstappen."

"and you're the rabbit i'm going to sink my teeth into." he said with a smile as he watched you get closer and straddle his waist. you got onto his cock with ease, you had done it so many times. you were certain that an imprint of his cock size was inside of you.

you held onto his shoulders and shuddered, "god should've given you a small cock."

he chuckled, "and you'd still be like this. a shivering little horny mess."

your knees rested on either side of him onto the bed, you held onto him as an anchor to not fall off the bed. you started your pace off strong, you held onto him as you rode him.

you felt the rhythm of your thrusts in the back of your head to keep yourself at a steady pace. you looked at max while his gaze was on your breasts.

"you're a dog." you repeated.

he replied, "well, maybe if you weren't trying to sleep with the whole paddock then maybe i wouldn't have to find ways to make sure you don't. actually be a decent woman."

"oh, i thought we were casual."

he took you by the hips tightly and said, "you really are a fucking idiot. it's never been casual."

you laughed before you pulled him in for another kiss. your pace was erratic and hard. you rose and dropped your hips onto his cock which caused both of you pitifully moan and gasp.

the kisses were frantic, hot all over. his fingers dug into your hips as he tried to move you in a certain way. but you weren't changing the pace for him.

"jesus christ." you muttered as you moved up and down.

"see, you can be a good girl for me. i see you more as a wife and less of a manager. i think it's about time to have the next generation of verstappen." he kissed your neck and collarbones, "have my kid."

"in your dreams, verstappen." you rolled your hips, "i need a real driver, not some kid living out daddy's dreams."

his grip on you tightened and the truth strength came out. soon you were being moved by max up and down his cock. a noise exited your throat that was painfully erotic.

"see, still just a stupid little girl. still trying to get daddy's approval. that's why you took the job. but, i still don't know why you're having sex with me. he'd die if he found out."

you cupped max's face and silenced him with a kiss. you'd have three verstappen brats before you admitted to max that you had an affection for him. you could be married for five years and you'd still not say you loved him.

you didn't want to give him that ego.

orgasm came quick over you. your thighs quivered from the rush in your body. fuck, you felt hot all over. max even took a good bite into your shoulder to "remind" you.

"fucking hell, max." you whined.

he chuckled, "now be good and cum."

you came first, you clutched onto him. you felt a pain in your head from the intense pleasure. you rode him slower and he came inside you quickly after.

you prayed tomorrow you'd remember to buy plan b.

you slowed down after you both came and panted heavily. your nails were still in your shoulders. you core throbbed from the intense orgasm as you exhaled shakily. you were still straddling his waist at the end of the bed.

he pulled out of you and pulled you down onto bed with you. his arms wrapped around you. he asked, "are you done?"

"done what?"

he kissed at your sweaty neck, "being a bitch. are you ready to be nice again?" his voice was honey in your brain. making it tacky and gooey.

"for now." you replied.

he made a face before he kissed you, "i guess that'll have to do. now you lie there. i'm not done with you."

[inbabylontheywept]

can we get more security clearance stories? they are amazing

Yeah, sure. Remember how getting contractors in to perform regular to the maintenance is basically impossible? One of the issues that we have is that the roof is kind of fucked. Like, in the newer sections, it's fine, and in the older sections, it leaks and we just have big barrels to catch the rainwater, and in the oldest sections there are actual holes. Which is crazy, because the oldest sections are where a lot of the tests happen. Those are almost always the most important parts of the facility. And the holes have been a problem for a while, but it is only "recently" (the last ten years) (yes, that is recent in government time) that the holes got big enough to fit birds.

So we have been getting birds into our secret facility.

This causes several issues.

The first issue is that, surprisingly, the people here are gentle, and they don't like seeing birds die. Some of the old hands are pretty jaded about it, and they have tennis rackets that they used to use for uh... bird removal. But the newer batch threw a fit when they suggested that, so now we have to make a big ordeal out of getting the birds out of the building. And if I sound bitter about it, I'm not - I am one of the people that said absolutely no bird smashing. But it is much easier to catch a bird than it is to just smack it out of the air.

(Another layer of difficulty is the whole "working in a labyrinth" thing. The birds have a lot of places to run.)

The second issue is that sometimes we can't get the birds out, and they die in weird places. This isn't just sad - it makes the test areas smell bad for weeks afterwards, and a lot of us spend the majority of our working hours in those locations. So it's sad and gross and stinky.

And the third issue, which is actually kind of the worst, is that government knows about the "perimeter leaks" (IE, large holes in the ceiling) and instead of fixing the holes, they put extra security measures in place. You know, in case spies climb in through the holes. Which means that, unfortunately, instead of getting the holes fixed, we got a state of the art alarm system, complete with motion detection lasers.

So the birds get in, and we actually can't leave until they get out, because they will, and have, and frequently do, trip the alarms. And when the alarms trip, people get called in to check the site and confirm for the 10,000th time that no, it's not Russians: It's birds.

It's always birds.

(Some of the techs actually kind of enjoy those calls during the weekends, because it means free overtime where there's literally nothing asked of them. Getting the "bird alarm" call is just 4 hours of OT where you check the test cell and confirm, no spies, just birds, then sit there and play checkers or read or whatever until the airforce base calls back and says that it seems safe enough for you to go home.)

(Engineers like those calls less, because we don't get time and a half, and we also don't need the cash quite as much as the techs do.)

Anyway, the crazy scenario is when it's like, 30 minutes to quitting, and a bird gets in. Because now we can't leave until we get the bird out. And the scene that happens is actually quite pretty.

So, the first thing that will happen is that there will be yelling downstairs. The downstairs people are always irate about birds getting in close to quitting. The anger is directed vaguely at the bird, and vaguely at the government, and more specifically at whatever absolute fuckhead bought us an alarm system instead of fixing our roof.

The majority of the crowd of grousing engineers and techs will then move into the upper offices. A couple will break off to grab the floodlight and shine it down the stairs, a few more will prop the doors open, and someone will venture back into the basement to turn off the light.

Click, the light goes off, it's dark, there's this big, warm, yellow pool of light just dripping down the stairs like a river of melted butter, and there's a crowd of tennish people + whoever is poking their heads out of the office to watch. No one will be breathing at all... and then, 9 times out of 10, a little bird will flit out of the basement, up the stairs, towards the light, and trigger the apocalypse.

Everyone chases the bird.

The goal at first is not to catch the bird. That's very difficult, and none of us have very good hand eye coordination. The goal is to thunder along and keep the bird from sitting down and having a breather.

We are there to exhaust the bird.

It is just accepted that this thundering herd will go wherever the bird goes. If your office door is open, and the bird flies in, it doesn't matter what reports you're filling out, or what phone call you're on - you are expected to deal with the panting and scrambling and general primal chaos of the hunting party until the bird goes somewhere else. Eventually, the bird will slow down enough that someone can catch it. This is a semi-coveted position, because, yes, you do get to hold a bird in your hand. And holding a bird is a wonderful thing. They are so soft, and so small, and you feel so careful with the poor thing. But also, it will bite you. Always. And the birds out here bite like needle nose pliers. It hurts so bad. I have been the guy holding the bird before, and it's this kind of beautiful scene again - to be standing there, hands cupped gently around this thing that is chewing the fuck out of the squishy webbing between my thumb and my palm. Tears streaming down my cheeks, surrounded by my little hunting party, that is telling me how much further until the nearest exit, opening all the doors for me. Hushed in the silence as they acknowledge my sacrifice. Inspecting the chomps afterwards and giving their opinion on how long it will be until it stops hurting.

I'm getting a little lost in the sauce here and don't really know how to end this. It's a really good job. Wouldn't be half as fun if it was run in a sane and competent manner.

I'll make this into a post at some point.

[darling2411]

Let me show you

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

pairing:Charles x reader 

summary:Charles teaches you some driving stuff 

word count: 1.1K

warnings: none

“Ugh I don’t know Charles.” A frown is adoring your face, but considering the circumstances you are pretty calm.

Charles,your lovely boyfriend, wants to teach you or rather show you how to drive a car. A racing car. He was so excited when he asked you that you couldn’t help but agree. 

Unfortunately now you are having second thoughts and regret ever giving your consent in the first place. 

But are you really going to deny him this and take the excited look from his beautiful face? 

Well you could die of a heart attack due to the insane amount of dread flooding your veins at this moment. 

Yeah alright, maybe you are exaggerating a little bit. But occasions like this require some extreme exaggerations.

“Come on, this will be so much fun. I promise nothing will happen.” This man really has the audacity to give you pleading puppy dog eyes in a situation like this!

“You’re not playing fair! I can’t say no to that face.” You groan in frustration. . 

He sends you a smug look and comes walking toward you, safety helmet in his hand. 

“Let’s get you ready then mon chérie.” Charles takes  the helmet and puts it on you. His fingers had swept your hair out of your face lovingly and he had kissed your nose before he pulled the helmet over your face and closed the latch. 

“Parfait, shall we go?” 

You nod feeling the heaviness of the safety helmet. 

You are still scared and your heart is pumping faster than you consider healthy but beside that you are also kinda excited. 

Excited to learn how Charles feels every time when he gets into his racecar. 

Excited to make a new memory with Challenges and of course also thrilled to learn how to drive a racecar. 

“As I told you before I can’t really show you everything, but I want to teach you as much as I can and when we swap places for a bit you can try out some stuff. But only under the condition that you’re not driving too fast. Don’t want anything happening to you, mon ange. “ Charles says while pressing some buttons in the car that you have absolutely no idea what they are good for. 

“Okay”, you take a deep breath,” let’s do this.” 

Those are the words Charles wants to hear. 

Pressing the throttle the car shoots forward going at an enormous pace. 

“Oh god I’m gonna dieeeee!” You scream grasping the handle for dear life. 

The engine is roaring therefore you and Charles have microphones in your helmets to hear each other. And currently Charles is laughing, straight out laughing at you. 

“You fucker! Don’t you laugh at me!”

“Oh mon amour, why haven’t I thought about this before? This is terrific.” He laughs again. 

“Terrific?! It’s horrifying.” Your shouting gets interrupted by a scream leaving your throat when Charles steers the car in a sharp left turn. “ Oh dear lord. I hate you so much Charles.I’m never agreeing to anything ever again!”

“You love me.” Is his only response. 

Suddenly he hits the brakes and you’re thrown forward, the seatbelt stopping your body from colliding with the car dashboard. 

“What the fuck Charles?!”

“Sorry baby, but I thought you wanted to stop.” You can hear the cheeky grin he is hiding behind his helmet. 

“Yeah but…” You are panting heavily. Head resting against the panel now. 

“I’m sorry love, I won’t do it again.” He says, still laughing slightly ,” Can I show you how to drive this car now, slowly?“

“Alright, but please. No surprises”, you emphasize the word surprises with gestures,” like this anymore.”

“I promise.”

You get out of the car and swap seats with your boyfriend. Adrenaline is already pumping through your veins and you haven’t even started the motor yet. 

“Okay. First step, press the button here.” You do as he says,” good, now change the handle into the first gear and then press the throttle gently. Just like you do when you start a normal car” you nodded and followed his instructions. The car slowly comes to life, the sound of the motor faint due to you driving so slowly. 

“Perfect, you're doing so good mon amour. Now try driving a little bit faster. I'll handle the rest if that’s alright with you.”

“Yep,you can do that. Thank you”

Pressing a little harder down onto the throttle the car makes a jump and now you're suddenly driving 150 kilometers per hour. 

You thought it would be scary but it’s just like driving your normal car. 

You’re feeling really brave and hit the gas some more. 

Driving faster and faster. 

180,200, 240,260 km/h. 

The feeling is amazing, addicting. 

You know now why Charles loves this so much. 

You want to tell him and start turning your head so you can look at him but he cuts you off with a shout. “Keep your eyes on the road mon couer, i don't want to die just yet. “

You quickly glance over at him and notice how he is clutching onto the handle for dear life. Charles Leclerc the formula one driver is scared form driving fast when he is not the one in control. You can't help but laugh. You're so going to get back at him for what he did when he was the one behind the wheel. 

You slow down a little to give him a false sense of hope before you accelerate again, pressing the throttle all the way down. 

“Mamma mia someone help me you “, hear him say through the microphone.

And just because you can, you slow a little and start driving zick zack lines. 

“Okay mon age, you have had your fun! You can stop now with this madness.”He almost pleads. 

“What is it not as funny as before ? “, you ask innocently. 

“Not for me it isn't, I promise I will never do something like that again!”, he swears admitting that he hates giving up control like that.

“Good because as much fun as this was I rather have you drivin the car anyway , even though you park way worse than me. “you say laughing.

He just rolls his eyes and bangs his helmet against yours.

ⓘ Obviously they are not driving in Charles formula one car but in a motorsports car used for racing ( like in the porsche cup, but it's not a GT3RS) where two people can be seated.

Taglist

@ellabellabus07

@motylekrozi

@maiaxisxtexbest

@meaganjm

[fastandcarlos]

Late Night Drives : ̗̀➛ Logan Sargeant

summary: with logan home, you decide to head off on an adventure, allowing the man behind the wheel to lead the way

A smile graces Logan’s face as you make yourself comfortable in the seat beside him, a blanket draped over your body. Despite you insisting that you were warm enough, he still watched you closely, wanting to be absolutely certain that the chill in their air wasn’t disturbing you too much.

A faint chuckle escaped as Logan began to rev the engine of his car, it was nothing compared to the engines that Logan started on his day job, but he still liked to impress you. He could feel your eyes watching him closely, leaning across and pressing a kiss against the side of your head as you rested your head further into the headrest of Logan’s car, admiring the view of him concentrating on what was ahead.

Around your car the sun was starting to set, the stunning shade of orange set the scene for you both perfectly. After a lazy day, you both craved the feeling of fresh air hitting against your body, and so when Logan suggested the two of you head out for a drive for a while, you found yourself unable to say no. Happy to play passenger princess whilst Logan took control of the wheel.

He wasn’t expecting you to agree to his offer, you were sleepy, surprising really when you hadn’t done much, but Logan somehow seemed to sweet talk you. Undeniably, you would agree to do anything as long as it meant that you got to enjoy Logan’s company for a little while longer, unable to bring yourself to separate from him for even a second.

“It’s not fair how one person can look so effortlessly beautiful,” Logan complimented, turning his eyes back to the road ahead of you.

“Don’t start being all adorable now,” you laughed, jabbing your fingertip against his arm, “you’ve been mean to me all day.”

A sigh came from Logan, “are you still bitter about the pancakes?”

“You ate my pancakes, that’s an unforgivable act.”

Logan could only shake his head at your dramatics, whilst he knew you were only joking, admittedly he did feel slightly guilty for stealing your food, and mostly getting a huge satisfaction from enjoying the meal he found on the counter top of the kitchen too.

“In my defence, you just left them there, so I just assumed they were for me.”

“Oh, I see…it’s my fault?! Well, forgive me for leaving my food unattended whilst I go to the toilet,” you cried out, rolling your eyes back at Logan. He was about to put his foot down on the accelerator, only to stop himself.

“Exactly,” Logan plays along, looking at you as if it’s obvious that this has been your fault all along. “You should know by now that when you live with me, the second there’s food around, it’s mine,” he added, chuckling away to himself, feeling your eyes burning a hole against the side of your head.

Once his laughter subsided, Logan reached across and rested his hand against the top of your thigh, squeezing it gently. You were as bad as each other, but you could never stay at mad at him, how could you when he smiled so beautifully across at you?

Together you were well known for your bickering, squabbling like children, but always making up. The feeling of Logan kissing against your cheek was enough for you to know that he was just messing with you, and that he was ready to get going and head off to wherever it was that you wanted to go.

You both put your seatbelts on, Logan winding the window down slightly to let in some fresh air, your fingers pressing play on the car radio before setting off down the road.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You weren’t quite sure how long the two of you had been travelling for, but when the car finally came to a stop, a smile crept onto your face as you looked out to realise that Logan had stopped you both by the beach.

“It’s the second-best view I’ve had today,” Logan spoke as he watched the way your eyes narrowed, taking in the beautiful sight before you. Your head shook as you listened to him, glancing in his direction momentarily before taking in the beauty of the beach again.

You take a moment to shuffle in your seat, waking your body back up again. Your hand comes out from underneath the blanket, reaching across and taking Logan’s hand off of the steering wheel and intertwining it in with your own.

His hand is cold, thanks to the cool breeze that came through the window. Summer hadn’t quite arrived yet, but that didn’t stop him from wearing a thin shirt, knowing you always loved to admire the way the material gripped to the muscles on his body.

It was all comfortable between you, you wore smiles, relaxed, and made the most of being able to spend time together.

With the sunset behind you, Logan’s breath was taken away by the view beside him. His heart was racing, his mind still wondering how he ever managed to get so lucky, even after so many years together.

Logan was lost for a moment, until he met your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back to him, leaning across and peppering a kiss against his slightly chapped lips.

Outside of your car, the beach was still pretty busy. There were young families running around, dogs chasing anything they could find in the sand, waves smacking against the shoreline. Down by the water you could see a small gap in the sand, there was a dip where someone else must have been sat previously, a gap that looked like it was the perfect size for you and Logan to fit in and spend a bit of time together, being able to shut yourselves off completely from the rest of the world, even just for a few moments.

And as you pondered, it quickly turned out that you were not the only one to do so.

“What are you thinking pretty girl?” Logan asked, intrigued by what had made you smile.

“It’s just lovely down here, isn’t it?” You calmly spoke, unable to tear your eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of you, “our lives our so busy, and yet down here everything just feels so quiet.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Logan questioned, usually the two of you were on the same page, and he really hoped you were now too.

You were all too aware that the beach was Logan’s favourite place in the world, the spot where he could relax and forget about everything else. The positives, the negatives, the whispers that always went around the paddock, many of which seemed to revolve around him and the future of his career in formula one.

The nod of your head was all Logan needed to take the keys out of the ignition and climb out of the car, running around the outside of the vehicle.

“Here,” he proudly grinned as he opened up your car door and extended his hand out for you to take a hold of.

“Such a gent,” you teased, making sure that you still had the blanket wrapped around you and your phone securely in your jean pocket before letting Logan help you out of the car. It took a moment for you to wake your legs up, but Logan was happy to stand beside you and give you all the time that you needed.

Once your feet were on the ground, his arm moved to wrap around your waist. “Are you going to be warm enough just taking that down there?”

You hum in reply to Logan, “I’m more concerned about you; will you be warm enough just in that shirt?”

“Of course,” he insisted, “and if I get cold then that just gives me more of a reason to cuddle into you, doesn’t it?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Logan tickled against your waist, knowing that you would never argue with him. After locking up the car and making sure that the two of you had everything that you’d need, intertwined together you made your way down to the beach, finding the perfect spot.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Time ran away from you both as you settled in the dip that you had pointed out to Logan earlier. By now the sun was almost set, the sky was turning darker and darker, but that didn’t seem to bother either of you in the slightest.

The sound of the waves crashing filled those momentary pauses of conversation between you both, providing the perfect backdrop to your evening.

There was plenty going on around you both, but neither of you were paying any attention to it at all. All you wanted was Logan. All Logan wanted was you. It was as if there was an imaginary barrier wrapped around you both, keeping everyone and everything else away.

Your head was resting against Logan’s chest, propped up to try and avoid getting too many grains of sand tangled in your locks. Logan’s hands were all over your body, one on your waist to keep you close by, the other against the top of your head so that Logan could twirl a few strands of your hair around his fingertips whenever he found himself beginning to slip into a bit of a daydream.

“Are you warm enough?” Logan asked as his fingertips brushed against the goosebumps that were beginning to form on your skin. “We can go home if you want, I don’t want you to catch a cold or anything baby.”

“I’m good,” you whispered, trying your best to reassure Logan and stop him from worrying. You try your best to sound convincing, but with the sun now hidden, the coolness of the breeze is beginning to trouble you.

“I can tell when you’re lying,” Logan sniggered, able to read you like a book, arguably knowing you better than you knew yourself.

“Honestly, I’m happy here for a while,” you once again assured.

Logan hummed, although he was far from convinced, running his hand along your arm to try and generate some warmth. “We’ll stay here for a few more minutes, I’ve got something else in mind to finish our evening off, which I know you’ll love.”

“What’s that?” You quizzed, propping yourself up with a hand against Logan’s chest. He shook his head though, refusing to share what his plans were with you.

You tried your best to get his plans out of Logan. Your hands tickled against his tummy, fingers poked against his cheek and his ears, lips pressed several times against his cheeks and his lips, but he still remained silent. It was torment for you not being able to know exactly what was happening next for you both, but for Logan, it brought him a great deal of satisfaction to know that he was irritating you.

“You’ll love it,” he repeated, feeling you press yet another kiss along his jawline. “Do you really think I would ever organise for us to do something you dislike?” He then asked, however with Logan, you never managed to quite know what he had up his sleeve.

Feeling your eyes on him brought another laugh from Logan, especially as you doubted him.

“I’m not as horrible as you think you think I am I’ll have you know.”

“Do you remember the time-“ you began to say, only for Logan to cut you off by tickling your sides. The squeal that escaped from you earnt you a couple of glares from other people around you, but you didn’t care as you tried your hardest to push Logan’s hands off of you before you lost all control.

Unfortunately for you, Logan was far stronger than you, keeping his hands tight on your body as your legs kicked out against him, enjoying having you exactly where he wanted you.

Eventually, after pleading what felt like hundreds of times, Logan finally let you go.

“Come on, let’s get out of here before someone files a noise complaint against us,” Logan suggested, slipping his hand into yours and pulling you up from the comfort of the sand wrapped around your body.

You made sure to keep your blanket nice and tight around your frame as you allowed Logan to lead you back up the sand and towards the car. It was beginning to get quieter as people slipped away after the sun had set, giving you an easy path to the car. Like before, Logan opened up your car door for you, giving you a hand up so you could comfortably slip into the passenger seat, a seat that seemed like it had been moulded for your body given how much time you spent there these days, letting Logan drive you around.

“Are you still planning on keeping this a secret?” You quizzed as Logan impressively revved up his engine once again, nodding his head in response to you as he began to concentrate on safely getting the two of you to his next destination.

He smirked as you groaned, wishing that he wasn’t so secretive with you. “Just trust me my love, I told you that you’d love it, didn’t I?”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

And love it you did as the two of you sat with your feet on the dashboard, a portion of chips between you both and messy burgers being held in your hands. You had sauce dripping everywhere, half of your fillings were in the footwell of the car, but neither of you cared a bit, simply humming in delight with every mouthful that you took.

You soon realised as Logan drove where he planned on taking you, the burger shack that he was only allowed to indulge in during certain weeks of the year. You promised Logan that you would never eat from there unless he was allowed to too, and with a three week break at your fingertips, he finally had permission. You were bouncing in your seat as soon as you realised where he was heading for, desperate to get your hands on the treat that you had craved for so long.

Beside you, Logan was a lot calmer, but on the inside, he was a bubbling mess just like you.

You’re so lost in your bubble of delight that you’ve almost forgotten Logan beside you. “It’s unfair how one fast food place can make food that tastes so good.”

“They’re still not as nice as the burgers you make,” Logan remarked as he grabbed a napkin, reaching across and dabbing against the corner of your mouth where a bit of sauce was beginning to dribble.

“You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me, we all know that’s not true,” you replied, refusing to let him even make the comparison.

“I think this is the perfect end to the perfect day, what do you think?” Logan quizzed, taking yet another huge bite out of his burger, closing his eyes as he savoured it.

You nodded in agreement, “we should go on some late night drives more often if this is how they’re going to end.”

A chuckle came from Logan, “just don’t tell the team that this is where we ended up.”

“Of course, our evening ended with us going home and making a delicious, nutritious chicken salad for our dinner.”

Over the years you seemed to have perfected your ability to lie, the ability to save Logan from getting into trouble with his bosses by pretending to agree with anything that he had to say.

“And obviously whilst we were at the beach you were doing some sort of workout to make sure that you’re in perfect shape for after the break.”

“I like your thinking,” Logan chuckled, admiring how well you knew what you had to do.

“See, not just a pretty face.”

No, you were far from just that in Logan’s eyes.

“Thank you for such a lovely evening babe.”

Logan simply smiled back at you, your eyes were bright with colour, and most of all he knew that your heart was full of happiness after spending your day with him.

“Don’t be silly, it should be me thanking you.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[making-you-in-spore]

have you checked out / do you have any thoughts on any of the recent spore-like indie games? talking about stuff like The Sapling or Elysian Eclipse

i'm not really much of a gamer outside of a select few games i've been playing for years on end, but it's cool that people are trying to recapture the charm of spore. i support them fully, and i hope they make good games with their premise.

however, unless you're really truly dedicated to what spore is as a game, none of them are going to be spore 2. spore's creature creator is only one part of its genius - it is a community, creativity oriented game at its core, and an actual game second.

if the game you're making doesn't have the extensive creation power, procedural animations, randomly seeded creatures and creations, etc- it won't be spore 2. if you don't have the ability to implement your creations into someone else's game with something as simple as a png, it won't be spore 2.

if you don't have the goofy, bouncy, janky animations and personality of spore, it will not be spore 2.

spore may not have "lived up to its expectations" as people say. but it is an absolute marvel of video game engineering, especially for its time. nothing anyone has made has ever lived up to spore as we got it. i need to emphasize that all of the data for things you create is stored in png files in your documents folder.

these pngs alone store all the data for your creations. that's fucking brilliant, considering they're only a few kilobytes in size. my entire creature folder is less than 6mb in size.

spore is an infinitely huge game with some of the best file optimization practices i have ever seen, if not downright the best.

i don't think we'll ever get anything like this again in our lifetimes, and i both mourn and celebrate that. i sincerely hope that sporelikes take off and we eventually get one that almost captures the feeling of the original spore, but it won't be very likely in this lifetime.

i hope one day they prove me wrong, though.

[pullupinarari]

just thinking abt grace snitching on lewis keeping a stash of your chocolates he always steal in her bedroom.

"grace, no thats supposed to be our secret"

a/n: I literally giggled while writing this one, it’s so sweet 😭 ps: this isn’t proofread, so I apologize for any typos in advance ‼️ hope you enjoy this, babes!! 🩷

You know that your husband is a sweet man. So sweet, that sometimes you catch yourself wondering if that has anything to do with the fact that he has the sweetest tooth you’ve ever met.

You couldn’t complain, though. Sharing your life with him has always been a blessing - hearing his giggles echoing through every room, watching him play with your daughter, his eyes shining every time he looks at her.

On the other side, you’re that kind of person that always craves a sweet after dinner, and it seems to be the miraculous cure of your insomnia - a square of chocolate that slowly melts on your tongue, adorning your insides, fulfilling your cravings for the night, helping you fall asleep.

So, every time you go grocery shopping, you make sure you have your favourite chocolate to complement your night.

But, no relationship is absolutely perfect, and your marriage with Lewis has this problem: most of the times when you would open the kitchen counter, looking for your chocolate bar, it would already be gone by the time you would crave it.

If you were in a good mood, you would ignore his antics, relying on another sweets that you would have around the house - even stealing one of Grace’s kinder chocolates sometimes.

But tonight, you feel grumpy. You can sense a migraine growing through your skull, punching your brain a countless amount of times - and Lewis knows it, he heard every single complaint of yours during the day.

Your husband made sure to take care of dinner tonight, trying to ease your suffering as much as he can by handing you the medicine to help your headaches, letting you rest on the sofa as your daughter softly caresses your forehead, hoping her mummy will feel better soon.

The little girl already had her soothing bath, and she’s wearing her favourite pink pyjamas - something that Lewis decided to take care of as well, knowing very well how your migraines can make you feel absolutely awful when they hit.

After dinner, you reach for the counter - specifically for the door where you always keep your chocolate bars.

Peeking inside, your eyes widen when you realize that the sweet that you had saved for tonight, is nowhere to be seen. Your hand reaches to try and grab it somewhere, only to be met with the emptiness of the place where the bar used to lay.

To say that it has awakened your bad mood was an understatement. That was the only bit that was left of the sweet, and you desperately needed it now. Thinking for a second, you realize that you don’t have any more chocolates left - you didn’t go grocery shopping, and even Grace has had her last kinder chocolate already.

Turning around with a closed facial expression, your eyes could send bullets straight to your husband’s chest.

- Lewis Hamilton. Did you eat it? - it’s all you ask, knowing that he knows damn well what you are talking about.

The sight of him cradling your baby in his arms, kissing her cheek nonstop while keeping eye contact with you, makes you sigh: you can almost see the engines in his brain turning, trying to find a way to escape this topic.

- No. Nope. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. - the man lies with every tooth in his mouth, a compromised look all over his face while he can still taste the sweet flavour of the candy lingering in his mouth.

- No? Are you sure? - you insist, only to be met with a nod of his head.

Your daughter looks at the both of you in silence, her big brown eyes travelling back and forth, from your face to Lewis’ and vice-versa.

- Okay, then. - you sigh, turning your back to him as you exit the kitchen, slowly going upstairs to your room, wanting nothing more than to meet your pillow now.

You know Lewis loves sweets and you know that he has been like this for the long years that you’ve been together, now. But today, you’re annoyed. Today, your head hurts, your body feels exhausted and you just wish he could control himself a bit more, knowing how desperately you were going to need that square of chocolate before bed.

It’s stupid that you are making a huge scene because of a candy, but you’re letting your emotions take over you, not even thinking straight anymore - and everyone is allowed to act a bit over something stupid, sometimes.

You hear footsteps coming upstairs, only to be met with your husband, carefully placing your three-old daughter on the ground, so she can come running to her mummy.

You hold your child, the light of your eyes, the only one that can compensate for your lack of sugar now.

Lewis climbs on the bed behind your kid, reaching to land a kiss on your shoulder, that you make sure to brush off. The annoyance keeps creeping through you, and you don’t plan on giving in so easily.

- Come on, love. Don’t be like this - Lewis tells you, a hint of humour in his voice that you don’t like at all.

Ignoring him, you turn your attention to your daughter, talking to her instead, your fingers caressing her hair and cheek now.

Little Grace is still very quiet, looking at her daddy with a guilty look on her face, as if the poor girl is trying to decide what’s the best thing to do in a situation like this.

- Mummy, I need to tell you something. - the toddler says, hiding her head on the crook of your neck as she hugs you, now.

- What is it, love?

She never stops looking at her daddy.

- Daddy has this place in my bedroom where he keeps a lot of chocolates - the little girl whispers in your ear, and you have never felt the need to control your emotions so much, and Lewis can definitely thank his daughter for that.

Your eyes widen, not a single word leaving your mouth as you turn to look directly at your husband, both of you staying silent while you share some glances.

- Daddy, don’t be mad. But mummy needs her chocolate and you keep so many in your secret place! - the girl pleads, trying to reason with her dad.

- Grace, that was supposed to be our secret! - the man finally says, the humour never leaving his tone and a smirk playing on his lips, because there’s no way he will take an argument about chocolate this seriously.

- So, let me see if I got this right: you keep a stash of chocolates in our daughter’s room and you still feel the need to steal my candy? Is that what this is, Lewis Hamilton? - your mouth is slightly agape while looking at the man that’s lying on his stomach, his face giving you the biggest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.

Letting out a giggle, his eyes crinkle in his face as he can’t control his laughs.

- What can I say, I am a man of many talents! But you’re forgetting one thing - he pauses, his hand reaching for the pocket of his sweatpants.

- I always have chocolate with me - he hands you a kinder chocolate, a soft smile playing on his lips as he continues to find the situation super humorous.

You take the chocolate, relief washing over you as you realize that you can finally have your nightly dose of sweetness.

- Yeah, don’t need to thank me or anything. Having a three year old kid and a wife that’s addicted to sugar makes me carry them with me all the time - Lewis shrugs, hiding his face on his pillow as he continues laughing.

- Oh absolutely, it’s definitely not because of your own sweet tooth, Lewis. Not at all.

And with a chuckle leaving your lips, you break the kinder chocolate in half, dividing it with Grace. Soon enough, a whine escapes your husband’s throat, noticing how he won’t get to have a taste of the candy.

- Maybe you can have just a little square, daddy - your daughter breaks her own half to give it to him, earning a ‘thank you princess’ and a forehead kiss from her daddy.

And in the middle of that moment, you realize that some things just never change. But it’s okay, as long as your husband keeps a chocolate in his pocket to share with his girls.

[pearlzier]

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ 𝜗℘ㆍ nerd.ᐟmatt ☆ nerd.ᐟreader ，✿

"POPULAR, YOU'RE GONNA BE POPULAR," you'd sing when you were doing absolutely anything. it was no shock to anyone that you adore musicals, you're an absolute theatre fiend. since you were a little kid, it's been your form of escapism, being able to transform into a different person on stage instead of how sheepish you usually are. matt personally loved how confident you were infront of an audience and so passionately speaking the lines you'd worked so hard to perfect.

after the inarguable disaster that was the mean girls adaptation (you'd quite literally sobbed into his arms about how bad it was) you two were pretty sceptical about a wicked movie adaptation.

"you really like uh.." matt's watching you, as best as he can, anyway, considering the fact that he's driving the two of you towards the cinema. his eyes flutter back to the road, hand working over the wheel as he holds onto it. "uh.. what's her name, the woman who played glinda on broadway—" he drums his fingers against the wheel in thought.

you adored the original wicked on broadway, you'd practically learnt the entire score, and you were so serious when it came to elphaba and glinda. literally, you and your bestfriend had gone as them one time for halloween before it was trendy to do so—the 'og's, shall we say. you loved many musicals, but wicked would always have a soft spot in your heart. having gone to see it live, it was a memory you'd never forget.

you were like, the most qualified ever to judge whether a wicked movie adapation was actually as good as it should be.

well, matt thought you were, anyway. he held you in extremely high regard.

he doesn't even get to finish before you're interjecting, "kristin chenoweth!" causing a smile to spread across his lips. there you go again, so eager to talk about musicals. he only ever sees you this happy when you're talking about the things you like or when you're with him.

"kristin chenoweth," he agrees quietly, watching the way the gleam in your eyes twinkles as you speak. he's in awe, pure awe, at how perfect you are. he'll get better at voicing it, he's sure of it. he's just.. a little overwhelmed by how much he loves you.

"she's amazing, matt," you insist, adjusting the tote bag sat in your lap. nothing could describe the amount of energy you have right now, you're practically bouncing off the inside of the car with joy right now. this might be one of the best moments of your life if you're completely honest with yourself.

"this is gonna be amazing, 'm sure of it. the marketing team are working overtime for this." matt might actually cry if he has to drink down another glinda themed robinsons drink—he won't, he'll brave it for you, but still.

matt isn't exactly into musicals the way you are, he usually plays video games, watches movies, and gets so hype over them it's crazy. though, you get it, your interests make you just as feral. but this is a movie musical, so you think he'll be into it as well. wicked was inescapable, his entire for you page was just glinda and elphaba and he wasn't even mad about it. couldn't be, especially with how happy it made you.

it was like when hamilton was trending, oh, god, you'd performed like seven one woman performances of the musical that he's sure he can quote the entire thing by now.

the two of you are quiet for a little more, the original broadway cast singing away in the background as it plays through the car speaker from your phone, 'till the car comes to a stop outside of the cinema. "we're here," he murmurs, killing the engine once he makes sure his parking's perfect.

"oh my god, matt! we're here. what if i faint? what if i vomit? oh god, i won't get to see the movie if i faint or vomit, will i? oh no, uh, okay, i need, uh.. oh—"

"hey, hey, relax," matt says, gently, wanting you to chill out a little. he offers a sheepish little smile and he murmurs, "uh.. we can go get the themed popcorn buckets and you can throw up in there if you want to.. in style.." that makes you giggle and you nod, practically ripping off your seatbelt so that the two of you don't waste any more time inside the car. he has to quickly get out to join you, making sure that you don't run off on your own.

as the two of you walk, his fingers awkwardly twitch at his side as he wishes to hold your hand, but he's a little apprehensive to. though, he doesn't know why he's so apprehensive about it, the two of you are dating, holding hands is a simple thing. but.. he is.

"wicked's real popular," he murmurs, glancing around. "it's real amazing," you add in return. the two of you make your way inside the cinema together, and you glance at eachother for a moment. he smiles, you smile, and it sends a surge of warmth through both of you. leaning against his shoulder, you watch as he pays for the two tickets, and even more heat surges through you at the fact you're one hundred percent going to be seeing wicked now. matt likes how happy it makes you. it makes him almost as happy, he's sure.

and you notice this, after a little. there's a bit of a queue—wicked was so popular—and you end up interlacing your fingers with his own. it makes a heat flush to his cheeks and he offers a smile to you, shuffling closer to you and pressing by your side a little just to make sure you don't get too cold considering it's getting colder out.

"line's pretty long," he notes quietly, glancing up. you guys are near the front, so it's okay. "mmh, yeah, but we're almost in," you agree, swinging your interlaced hands as you stand beside eachother.

"popcorn buckets?"

"popcorn buckets."

you're a mess when you get out of there. literally, he's got stains on his hoodie from your tears, not that he minded all that much. he'd be a hypocrite otherwise, he's feeling a little teary eyed himself. thrusted against his chest are the various popcorn buckets that you'd bought, as you're currently trying to compose yourself and make sure your pink makeup doesn't run. you'd dressed up in full glinda gear, as best as you could, and he'd gone as elphaba. in your words, he'd given you total wicked witch of the west energy, in the best way.

he mumbles a soft, "you're okay," switching the popcorn buckets to one arm so he could gently rub your arm as the two of you made your way out. a soft smile settles on his lips, just watching you. everyday he's reminded in little moments why he loves you so much. this is definitely one of them. matt quietly leads you out of the screening room, giving smiles to the people working at the cinema, ones who are quiet heartwarmed by your reaction to the movie and how much it clearly meant to you.

"that was just.." matt sighs softly, shaking his head as heat flushes to his cheeks. he shifts his weight a little, gently tugging on you for you to stop. it's just outside of the screening, his eyes meeting yours. your eyes are glossy, gleaming beneath the pink and green lights illuminating you both. "perfect," you finish for him, words wavering a little as you speak. god, you've never enjoyed a movie more. definitely a top ten movie. maybe even for matt, too. he couldn't deny how good it was.

matt nods his head at your words, adding a quiet, "really perfect," you'd one hundred percent be watching the movie a gazillion times after, probably in cinemas, but also definitely on some illegal websites when you got back home. matt'd be joining you, totally. he may not have been a complete musical fan, but he'd get into it for you, definitely.

"i'm like.. a new person after that," you tell him, shuffling closer to him and leaning your head up against his chest. he places the buckets down on the ground beside you two and he tentatively wraps an arm around your middle to bring you up against his chest.

"me too.. might be a musical fan.." a laugh slips past his lips ³and in return you giggle too. a soft sigh escapes you afterwards, head tilting to the side a little. he blinks when you look up at him like that, and the heat floods his cheeks a little more. he's getting warm from all the attention, really. but you're looking up at him like he hung the stars and the moon, and it makes him feel so unbelievably special. his heart's pounding against his chest, literally.

"i.. wanna kiss you," you find yourself saying before you even realise, and matt practically splutters and stammers over his words in return. "oh, uh.. you do? oh," he swallows thickly, glancing down at the ground a moment before he meets your gaze again, nodding his head. he'd been thinking the same exact thing, since.. right now, your lips look like they're coated in pure sugar, all shiny and glossy.

"you can kiss me. i wanna.. wanna kiss you," he mumbles, slowly easing his hand upwards on your back, his lips parting.

you're the one who goes for it, bringing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. he brings you as close as possible with his hand, a dreamy sigh slipping past his lips against your own. you let your hands come up and cradle his jaw, both of your eyes shutting together as you take in the bliss that is the kiss you're sharing. when the two of you part, he's breathless, eyes gleaming in a similar way to yours. "you taste like candy," accurate, considering all the candy you'd been eating during the movie, but he loves it.

you feel a heat come to your face at that, and you glance at the floor sheepishly. "i do?"

matt nods, because yeah, you do. he sweeps his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting the sweetness that you'd left there in the kiss. he's incredibly intoxicated by you, how you taste, how you feel, just.. you. "yeah.." he really wants to do it again, but the realisation that you two had just kissed in public hits him and he ends up burying his head in your hair to try hide himself in some way. "oh my god, we just kissed, in public," you say in realisation.

he's got absolutely no clue where all of this confidence comes from, but he murmurs a breathy, "y'know what's not public?" that makes your eyebrows raise in interest, lashes fluttering a little bit. matt relishes in that expression on your face, just for a moment.

"what is?" you soon ask, brows furrowing now.

"my bedroom," matt wiggles his eyebrows instinctively, and despite your surprise at his forwardness, you laugh. a genuine, soft, laugh. god, you adore him. enough to the point you quickly run behind him as he practically drags you back to the car.

ִ ֹ ★ @deansbite i hope you and our 120+ kids are proud o'me for writin' consistently :3

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @sarosfilms, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasgirl, @beridollie, @pr3ttyf4wn, @sincerebabydoll, @cayleeuhithinknott, @j2ss7, @sweetrelieef, @l3sbiancvnt, @beausling, @lovesickgrlsrh0t , @cupiidk1lls, @sofiassaturn ִ ꒱

[ohnoitstbskyen]

100 songs to get to know me

I posted this image over on the bluesky, and it got like 100 likes, so now here we are. I was going to write them all up here, but Tumblr imposes a 10 video limit on embeds per post which I find infuriating.

So! You can read the first ten entries here, but you can read the entire list here: https://tbskyen.bearblog.dev/100-songs-to-get-to-know-me/

1. ABBA - Lay All Your Love On Me

I genuinely don't quite know if my enjoyment of ABBA is something I came by honestly, or something which is simply genetically engineered into my Scandinavian soul. I remember hearing my mom blasting their songs on the home stereo in my childhood, and the association has put permanent nostalgia blinders on me for all of ABBA's greatest hits. Still, I think the beat is undeniable and the mournful tone of the chorus adds some real melancholy to the dramatic plea at the core of the song.

2. Afenginn - Oestrogenmanipuleret Basilisk

Afenginn describe themselves as "bastard etno-punk" which is probably as good a description as you're going to get. There's a lot of klezmer and eastern European folk influences here, but what is more important about Afenginn's best songs is that they go hard as f*ck and it's an absolute blast to dance to them at a show. They played this the first time I saw them live, and the rhythm comes back every time I hear it again. Good times!

3. Afenginn - Ralli in D Minor

With 100 slots to fill, I am giving myself permission to allocate two slots to Afenginn, and for the same reason. Ralli in D Minor is less of a dance tune to me, and more of a headbanger, but with a sufficiently loud subwoofer and a game crowd, you could f*ing mosh to this.

4. Anamanaguchi - Prom Night

I discovered Anamanaguchi as the composers of the title track to the Nerdist podcast back in the day, and being unfamiliar with the concept of chiptunes, I was drawn in initially by the sheer novelty of hearing the squeaks and bloops of my gaming childhood employed towards rock tunes and combined with "real" instruments.

Beyond the gimmick, though, Anamanaguchi won me over fully with the Scott Pilgrim game soundtrack, and then 2013's Endless Fantasy, where the gimmick of chiptune nostalgia noise (at least for me) finally coalesced into something that felt entirely like its own thing. Plus I'm a sucker for exactly this kind of bright dance pop, and Bianca Raquel's vocals here are a perfect match for the tone of the music.

5. Jennifer Hudson - Memory

2019s Cats is a fascinating fucking disaster. Tom Hooper is the worst director of musicals in my living memory, the abuse of the VFX staff extended beyond brutal crunch and absurd challenge imposed by a director who had no idea what the hell he was asking them to do all the way into an astonishingly arrogant and condescending joke from Rebel Wilson and James Corden at the expense of workers who were the last people at fault for the disaster that the movie became (look in the fucking mirror, Wilson and Corden, your performances were rancid).

Still, the silver lining of Cats is we got to hear Jennifer Hudson shake the world on its foundations with her rendition of Memory. I don't give a shit what anyone says, this performance is transcendent and no amount of institutional failure can dim its quality.

6. Annette Bjergfeldt - Min Bærende Bjælke

Annette is one of my mother's oldest friends, and a prolific singer-songwriter now turned author. I've been going to her concerts since I was a little child, and while I am absolutely not the target audience for any of it, it has stuck with me as part of my musical vocabulary deep into adulthood.

She has experimented with brass band accompaniment a few times, but for my money, nothing quite comes close to the floating, optimistic vibe of Min Bærende Bjælke. It sounds like a very particular kind of lasting romance, which of course is also what the lyrics are about.

7. Hozier - Blood Upon the Snow

We'll get more than one Hozier song on this list, but Blood Upon the Snow stands out to me as a song which easily transcends the videogame soundtrack promotional tie-in nature of its conception. Bear McCreary's hurdy gurdy and lyrics about surviving through adversity by holding on to existence with your teeth and nails... yeah, it hits with me. There's something real in that.

"The trees deny themselves nothing that makes them grow, no rainfall, no sunshine, no blood upon the snow." Something about that feels real.

8. The Beatles - Something

idk if I really need to write anything about George Harrison's most famous love song that hasn't been written more extensively by a million dad-rock enthusiasts before me.

I will say, this is one of the few songs I listen to regularly that justify the expensive audiophile headphones I invest in. There's a LOT to hear on a good, lossless, original mix of this song, if you're the kind of pervert who gets off to listening to a song a hundred times to focus on different parts of the soundscape. (it's me, I am the pervert)

9. Blink-182 - Adam's Song

I discovered a lot of my music taste as a young man from extremely low-resolution AMVs that my friend used to download off sketchy file-sharing sites. Blink-182 entered my musical lexicon through the one above, specifically, piggybacking off of my teenage love of Dragon Ball.

I never really grokked what the lyrics were actually about, until relistening to the song years later, but something about the minor-key wail of the thing really sat with my angsty teenage soul and has stuck with me ever since. I cannot listen to this song without that music video playing in my head, the song will forever belong to Vegeta.

There's remastered versions of this AMV out there, apparently, but if it's not 144p with tinny audio, it's just not right. That's not what the song is supposed to sound like, not to me.

10. Blink-182 - Miss You

Blink-182 is one of those bands I discovered via anime AMVs and listened to obsessively for a period as a teenager (The Offspring will show up later on this list), and then fell entirely out of touch with for years until discovering much later in life that they did, in fact, keep releasing music. I Miss You from their self-titled 2003 album felt, when I discovered it sometime in the early 2010s, like a much more mature and interesting sound from a band which had gotten stuck associated with my adolescent superpower kung-fu fantasies which I was, at the time, feeling a bit embarrassed about.

The song had a resurgence on TikTok a little while ago as a meme template, which made me listen to the albums again, and rediscover yet again that Blink-182 is, in fact, still putting out albums.

---

The rest of the list is here: https://tbskyen.bearblog.dev/100-songs-to-get-to-know-me/

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | November 11th-17th 2024

Just an FYI, I have an account over at BlueSky at epicficrecs!

Also!! I just passed 300 different fic writers and podficcers recced since the beginning of this blog! 🥳 thank you all for your hard work and your invaluable contributions to this fandom!

Complete

indulgence by coldbam/ @coldbam (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together, PWP | 1K | Explicit): “Okay. I’ll be right back.” Eddie gets off the couch, leaning down to collect their empties from the table, putting himself right into Buck’s line of sight, eyes catching on— “Oh,” Buck says, as his finger connects to the back of Eddie’s right thigh. He didn’t even register moving, but he sees it right in front of him. He forces his hand back to his own body. “I’ve never seen that before,” he continues, referring to the small dark splotch on Eddie’s skin that’s transfixed him. It’s just—there’s not a lot that Buck doesn’t know about Eddie by now. Not a lot he hasn’t seen.

Clarity by xylodemon/ @xylodemon (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together | 1,7K | Explicit): As soon as they kissed, a thousand things had fallen into place—jokes and shoulder bumps and wordless exchanges, movies and zoo trips and engine rides spend thigh to thigh. In that moment, Buck had realized with absolute clarity what Tommy meant when he said he wouldn't be Buck's last. Because Buck's last is Eddie. It was always going to be Eddie.

never seen a bluer sky by Chash/ @ponyregrets (S8E6: Confessions Coda, Pre-Buddie | 2K | Teen): "Hey, what brings you joy?" Eddie is expecting some waffling in Buck's response. Maybe some suspicion. It's a weird thing to ask, obviously. Joy isn't a word he uses much, isn't a go-to. But even if what makes you happy is a more normal question, it's not right. He needs something deeper. And of course there's the Tommy of it all. Buck hasn't exactly been mourning or anything, but he's obviously down. It wouldn't be unreasonable for him to say that nothing is bringing him joy at the moment. It's not a particularly joyful time. But Buck doesn't hesitate, doesn't question. He just says, "The ocean," and doesn't even ask why Eddie wants to know.

all eyes on me, your illusionist by thelonggoodbye (Different First Meeting AU | 2K | Teen): Eddie doesn't like magic. He's just fond of this one magician, is all.

The Billy Boils Breakup Anthem by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (S8E5: Masks Fix-It | 2K | General): Buck gets dumped. Then he gets cursed.

just soothes the soul by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (S8E6: Confessions Coda, Pre-Buddie | 2K | Mature): It’s quiet, apart from the music still playing over the speakers, Old Time Rock and Roll fading out, another equally upbeat song starting right after. The contrast of it is what gets to Buck. Whatever Eddie had been doing when Buck showed up, he’d seemed… different, than he’s been lately. Buck turns his head to look at Eddie properly. "You shaved."

safe haven by my_hopeless_opus (Established Buddie, Fluff | 3K | Teen): People pleaser Evan Buckley learns how to be the little spoon.

The Thanksgiving Trap by scarmaddiewrites (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Chris POV | 3K | Teen): Chris has got to get out of Texas. He has a plan!

Clouds Ain’t Leakin No Rain by vampirebuckley (Post-S8E6: Confessions, PWP | 3K | Explicit): “Tommy dumped me.” “Oh. Uhm. I’m sorry, Buck.” “Yeah, me too.” “Do you want to talk about it?” Eddie grimaces as the words leave his mouth. Buck sighs, again. Slumps back on the couch. “Not particularly.” “Okay then. No talking. Do you want to drink about it?”

these hands had to let it go free (and this love came back to me) by bibuckdiaz (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together | 3K | Mature): Buck comes to Eddie's house after Tommy breaks up with him. They have a lot to discuss and to confess to each other. Eddie finally lets himself feel joy, in more ways than one. or: Catholic guilt, repressed memories, and the joyful ordeal of being in love with your best friend.

i could take you (to have and to hold) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (S8E6: Confessions | 3K | General): Eddie goes to the cemetery, and he lets Shannon go. He lets her rest. And he shaves his moustache off. And he sits on his couch in his empty house and looks at a picture of Christopher and thinks I'm going to get him back And then Buck texts him. Broke up with Tommy. Beer (OR: eddie goes to church, buck breaks up with tommy, and things finally start to make sense)

ditch the clown, get the crown by sparkagrace/ @ohhsodebonair (Post-S8E6: Confession, Lakers Game Date | 3K | Teen): Eddie and Buck go to the Lakers game. They don't expect the kiss cam.

Happiness is a Bottle of Juice by scarmaddiewrites (Post-S8E7: Hotshots, Pre-Buddie | 4K | Mature): Eddie decides it’s time for him to go and get Christopher from Texas, sees something he shouldn’t, and has a conversation about juice.

🔥like sugar in my soul (how sweet it is to be loved by you) by granadas (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together | 4K | Mature): “I kind of have a sweet tooth,” Eddie admits. “It was easier when we were a little broke. I took my coffee black because I was always in a rush to my next shift, and we were scraping by, so any juice and sweets I bought were for Chris.” “So what changed?” Eddie’s finally looking at him, and he flushes. “I’m just trying this new thing,” he says, “where I stop punishing myself. I’m trying to be… nice to myself, I guess. For once. Like, showing myself that the world isn’t going to end if I do something just for me.” Or: Eddie is making changes to his life. Buck panics, until he doesn't.

The Five Deaths of Dorothy Diaz by thelonggoodbye (Established Buddie, Future Fic | 4K | Teen): Eddie buys a plant. Buck and Christopher are determined to keep him from finding out he keeps killing it.

Last and Forever by Kwills91/ @kwills91 (S8E6: Confessions Coda, Pre-Buddie | 5K | Teen): “I thought I needed to be punished. For what happened with Kim. I thought that’s what I deserved.” Buck wants to protest—say that’s not true—but Eddie knows him well enough to level him with a look that tells him not to before he even opens his mouth. “It didn’t feel like enough, what he asked me to do. So I left. And then I ran into him at this juice place. He noticed that I swapped the juice for water. Told me I was denying myself joy. Called me on being scared of being a failure, and about the mustache being a disguise.” “He got all that from juice?” Buck asks. Eddie laughs. “Yeah, he got all that from juice. Kind of.”

and I cannot, cannot go by Maira/ @mairaiscarrierofthepaperclips (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Hanahaki Disease, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Did Buck really not know? Did he not realise that he was the reason Eddie was even alive today? That knowing Buck was there, having Buck in his life, was sometimes the only thing that made Eddie get out of bed in the morning? Did Eddie- was this Eddie’s fault?

bad idea, right? by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Social Media Fic, Sexting | 6K | Explicit): Buck stumbles across Eddie's grindr profile.

we all assume the worst the best we can by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Established Buddie, Near Death Experience | 6K | Teen): When a rescue goes wrong, Buck and Bobby are trapped, while Eddie and Chim scramble to save them.

watch out (you might get what you’re after) by sparkagrace / @ohhsodebonair (Canon Divergent, Fratboy Eddie | 6K | Teen): The 118 keep getting called to a fraternity house and Buck can't stop thinking about the frat president Eddie Diaz (who is definitely not responsible for the fires).

you're my sun, my moon, my guiding star by wafflesofdoom/ @capseycartwright (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): “Fine, let’s have it your way then,” Eddie slammed his phone down on the kitchen table. “You set me up a dating profile then – Hinge, Grindr, whatever you fucking want, Buck. Set me up a dating profile, and you pick which random man I need to sleep with to make it so you feel okay about wanting me.” in which evan buckley gets dumped, gets drunk with his best friend, realises he's in love with said best friend, and lets his abandonment issues get the best of him. because your first is never your last, right? so buck can't be eddie's first: he needs to be his last.

🔥 wanna be your endgame by literalmetaphor (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together, Pining | 10K | Mature): Maddie has her forehead against her hands, which are clasped in what looks to be prayer. “Okay, so – hang on, so Eddie’s gay?” “Yeah.” Buck can’t believe they’re doing this again. “And he told you he was in love with you.” “Right,” Buck says. “And you…” Maddie peeks up at him. “You’re in love with him?” “Absolutely.” Maddie draws in a long breath, and she splits her hands to pillow her face. “But you turned him down and told him you wanted to wingman for him instead?”

🔥 death wish love by Underhung_Aura/ @eddiebabygirldiaz (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together, PWP | 15K | Explicit): after getting dumped by tommy and going to eddie's, buck wakes up the next morning only to be pummeled by his hangover and his attraction to eddie

WIP

🔥 wicked dreams by hispolestar (Post-S7, BT Break-Up, Eddie Sexuality Crisis, Getting Together | 4/9 | 18K | Explicit): Eddie’s trouble starts with a dream. Well, it actually starts much earlier, when he runs into a woman who is the literal carbon copy of his dead wife. Or, alternatively it starts with a lightning bolt. Or a sniper. Or a firetruck. Or a car crash. Or, realistically, a grenade embedded in a seventh-grade teacher’s leg. It starts with blue eyes, broad shoulders and a tenacity that shocks Eddie to his very core. But right now, Eddie’s trouble starts with a dream. ~ Eddie, alone and confused, is navigating Christopher's extended stay in Texas, while also grappling with feelings he's been repressing for seven years. Buck, who misses Chris dearly, is struggling under Gerrard and his boyfriend's dismissive attitude. In the wreckage of their lives, they find each other.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 139/? | 446K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 how come everybody's dancing but you? by showedupatyourparty (Post-S7 Spec, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 3/4 | 31K | Mature): Buck feels guilty. Everyone he loves is going through something painful, difficult, or unexpected right now. And Buck is just…bisexual. It’s great that he’s figured it out, and it’s great that everyone has been so supportive, and Tommy is—Tommy is fine. The sex is good, at least. Consistent. When Buck gets a call from Eddie’s phone late on a Tuesday night in June, it’s cause for concern. * Buck unpacks his own feelings about his recently-discovered bisexuality. Eddie gets adopted by drag queens. They're both just trying their best to be happy.