#was actually all over the place this weekend

[pucksandpower]

Malpractice

Franco Colapinto x physician!Reader

Summary: when you agreed to join your cousin Lily at the Las Vegas Grand Prix to watch her boyfriend race, you didn’t realize the weekend would end with you saving a rookie driver with a concussion from the dangerous schemes of his team

The Williams Racing garage is chaos incarnate. The crash replay loops on the screens above the engineers’ heads, showing Franco’s car slamming into the barriers. The sound of carbon fiber shattering is so vivid in your mind it might as well have happened right next to you.

The footage is brutal.

50G.

The kind of impact that makes your stomach twist into knots. Franco couldn’t even get out of the car by himself, the marshals had to haul him out like a ragdoll. And now, the garage feels like it’s on edge, everyone pretending they’re not watching for updates while they pretend to keep working.

“He’s at the medical center,” someone mutters behind you. “They’re checking him out now.”

Good. He needs checking out. A crash like that doesn’t leave you unscathed, no matter how tough you think you are.

You stand off to the side, arms crossed tightly over your chest, watching as engineers, mechanics, and media relations people swirl around each other, avoiding eye contact but buzzing with nervous energy. Lily had invited you here as Alex’s guest, but you feel completely out of place, like you’re intruding on a family argument you weren’t supposed to overhear.

Then you hear it.

“He’ll be fine to race tomorrow,” James Vowles says, his voice low but carrying just enough weight to reach your ears.

You blink, sure you’ve misheard. But no, he’s standing near a huddle of engineers, speaking in clipped tones like this is just another logistical problem to solve. “We can’t find a replacement on such short notice,” he continues, “so we need him in the car. No excuses.”

Your jaw drops. You can’t help it. “You’re joking,” you blurt out.

James and the engineers freeze, turning to you like you’re some alien creature who’s wandered into their secret lair.

He recovers quickly, offering a tight smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met-”

“Are you serious right now?” You step closer, fueled by disbelief. “He crashed into the wall at 50G. He couldn’t even stand up without help. And you think it’s a good idea to put him back in the car tomorrow?”

James’ expression hardens. “Miss, this isn’t your concern-”

“Actually, it’s Doctor. And it is my concern if you’re planning to endanger someone’s life for a race.” Your voice rises, but you don’t care. Let them stare. Let them glare. You’re not about to stand by while they make decisions like this.

“Look,” James says, trying for diplomacy. “The FIA medical team will clear him if he’s fit to race. That’s their job, not yours.”

“And what if they’re wrong?” You demand. “What if he has a concussion? What if he gets in that car and something happens because you couldn’t be bothered to prioritize his safety?”

Before James can reply, the garage door creaks open, and Franco stumbles in.

All eyes snap to him. He’s leaning heavily on his physiotherapist, his helmet dangling from his other hand. His usually sharp, confident features are slack, his eyes glassy. He looks like he’s barely holding it together.

Your chest tightens. He shouldn’t even be standing right now, let alone back here in the thick of it.

The physiotherapist helps him over to a chair, and Franco slumps into it with a groan. “I’m fine,” he says, though his words slur slightly. “Just a little — what’s the word? Shaken up.”

You don’t even think. You march over to him, the rest of the garage fading into the background.

“Franco,” you say firmly, crouching in front of him. “Look at me.”

His unfocused eyes wander to your face, and he frowns like he’s trying to remember where he’s seen you before. “Do I know you?”

“No, but I’m about to save your life, so let’s call it even,” you say briskly. “How many fingers am I holding up?” You hold up three.

He squints at your hand. “Uh … six?”

Your heart sinks. “Okay. Follow my finger.” You move your hand slowly in front of his face, but his gaze wobbles, unable to track it.

“Wow,” he mutters, blinking rapidly. “You’re really pretty.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from reacting. “Franco, focus. Do you feel nauseous? Dizzy?”

“Both,” he admits, leaning back in the chair. “But it’s fine. I’ve felt worse.”

“It’s not fine.” Your voice is sharper than you intend, but you can’t help it. “You have a concussion. Probably a severe one. You need to rest and recover, not get back in the cockpit tomorrow.”

He grins lazily, his head lolling to the side. “Are you my MILF angel?”

Your brain short-circuits. “What?”

He waves a hand vaguely in your direction. “You’re older, right? Like … a doctor? And hot? Definitely an angel. My MILF angel.”

Someone behind you chokes on a laugh. You whip your head around to glare, silencing them instantly.

Turning back to Franco, you take a deep breath. “Okay, you’re clearly not in your right mind, so I’m going to ignore that. But you need medical attention. Real medical attention. Not whatever half-assed clearance the FIA is going to give you.”

He reaches out clumsily, his hand brushing against your arm. “You’re bossy. I like that. Are you the same way in bed?”

You grab his wrist gently but firmly, lowering it back to his lap. “Franco, listen to me. I’m serious. You can’t race tomorrow. You could get seriously hurt. Do you understand that?”

He stares at you for a long moment, his expression oddly thoughtful. Then he smiles faintly. “You’re really worried about me, huh?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation. “Because someone has to be.”

For a second, something shifts in his eyes, like he’s seeing you clearly for the first time. But then he blinks, and the moment is gone.

“You’re nice,” he murmurs, slumping further into the chair. “I like you.”

You sigh, glancing over your shoulder at the Williams team members still hovering nearby. “He needs to go back to the medical center. Now.”

James steps forward, his face a mask of polite concern. “I appreciate your input, but we’ll handle it from here.”

You stand, squaring your shoulders. “No, you won’t. Because if you try to put him in that car tomorrow, I’ll make sure everyone knows exactly what you’re doing. And trust me, the media will eat it up.”

James’ jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he nods to the physiotherapist. “Take him back.”

As the man helps Franco to his feet, he glances back at you, his lopsided smile still in place. “Don’t go anywhere, pretty doctor. I’m gonna marry you.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, fighting the urge to scream. “You’re definitely not racing tomorrow,” you mutter, more to yourself than anyone else.

But as you watch him stumble out of the garage, you can’t shake the feeling that this fight isn’t over yet.

[tsukius]

Fiancé!kaiser drabble

featuring: michael kaiser

synopsis: he just loves to spoil you

author’s note: for the requests that i got, i promise I’ll post them soon😓 i have like ten drafts that i need to finish, but college said no😔

_________________________________

michael kaiser had always been a man of grand gestures and extravagant displays of affection. as your fiancé, he made it his personal mission to shower you with the finest things life had to offer- designer dresses, glittering jewelry, exclusive dinner reservations at the most sought-after restaurants. to anyone else, it might have seemed over-the-top or excessive, but to you, it was simply michael's way of showing how much you meant to him.

"it's my duty as your future husband to ensure you're treated like the empress you are," he'd say, that signature smirk of his firmly in place as he presented you with yet another elaborate gift. and though you'd playfully roll your eyes and insist he didn't have to go to such lengths, deep down you couldn't help but feel utterly adored.

because you knew, despite michael's penchant for the finer things, that his motivations ran far deeper than mere material indulgence. the way his eyes would light up when you'd wear the necklace he'd gifted you, or the tender way he'd hold your hand as you strolled through the park on one of your fancy dinner dates- those were the moments that truly revealed the depth of his affection.

michael was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve, preferring to express his emotions through grand, romantic gestures rather than words. but you'd learned to read between the lines, to see the love and devotion that simmered beneath the surface. the way he'd hold you close, his strong arms enveloping you in a warm embrace, conveyed volumes more than any three simple words ever could.

and so, you'd let him indulge his penchant for lavish displays, knowing that each extravagant surprise was his way of saying "i love you" without actually uttering the phrase. whether it was the sparkling diamond bracelet he'd surprised you with on your anniversary or the private jet he'd chartered to take you on a weekend getaway, you accepted it all with a grateful heart, reveling in the knowledge that you were the sole recipient of his unwavering adoration.

because truthfully, you didn't need expensive gifts or VIP treatment to feel loved by michael. the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world that mattered, was more than enough. the gentle way he'd caress your cheek, the reverent kisses he'd press against your skin- those were the moments that truly made your heart swell with affection.

still, you had to admit, there was a certain thrill in being spoiled so thoroughly by the man you loved. it was a testament to just how deeply he cared, how fiercely he wanted to provide for you and ensure your happiness. and as you stood beside him, hand-in-hand, gazing up at the twinkling cityscape from the balcony of your penthouse suite, you couldn't help but feel utterly, completely cherished.

because when it came to kaiser, grand gestures and lavish gifts were simply his way of saying "i love you" without ever needing to utter the words.

and for you, that was more than enough.

[postracehair]

altitude

max verstappen x reader | 1.5k

you hate flying. but it's a necessity if you want to see max during the f1 season. when you finally fly home together during a break, will you let him help calm you down?

cw: r hates flying, anxiety, kissing, like, lots of kissing, worried max, allusions to more than kissing, fluff, george/carmen cameo

a/n: she's so me! i hate flying! but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do! wrote this way back after brazil, but have it now as a race week gift.

--

Everything changes very quickly after you meet Max Verstappen.

You are pulled into a world of action and luxury all because he wants you there. And you go willingly because you want to be with him, too. How could you not? The world famous champion is a kind, funny, and sweet man who loves his cats, his friends, and, as is becoming clear, you.

Much of the start of your relationship is scheduling. A day here and there between races, dinners and walks and movies at his place or yours. You spend a lot of time in airports when you can, working on the go and white knuckling your way through flight after flight. It's worth it to see him on the other side.

Somehow, you've never actually travelled together.

Until now.

The race weekend ends the best way possible -- the top step of the podium. A night of celebrations fades into an early morning flight on a private jet and this time, you're coming with. Because Max has three weeks off. He'll have to work, of course, spending time in Milton Keynes before the final stretch of the season, but for the most part you're going to have him all to yourself.

It does not occur to you until you're in the car on the way to the tarmac that Max has no idea how much you hate flying. You're in one of those big Sprinter vans, head on Max's shoulder as he scrolls through his phone. George and Carmen sit on the other side, the former's head tipped back as he dozes. Everyone is quiet and you're working a bit hard to keep yourself calm.

"What is it?" Max whispers. He puts his phone down and you look over at him. His hair is a mess, you can see that much even in the low light of the van. You reach out and run a hand through it.

"What?" you whisper back.

He shakes his head a little and wraps his fingers around your wrist. "You were all loose and then you got tense."

The frequent distance between you and the busy nature of your schedules demands that communication be top of mind. You do not lie to each other about your feelings, and you do not hide things. Even things like this.

"I don't really like flying," you say, softly. "I've never told you because we've never flown together. It just makes me kind of anxious. I've never been able to shake it."

His brows furrow. "Really?"

"I'll be fine," you assure him. "Just, maybe hold my hand during takeoff and landing. And if there is any turbulence."

"But -- I don't understand. Are you afraid?"

You know that there is really no way to make him understand but also that he won't stop trying to. Max gets afraid, he gets nervous. He's only human. But he combats it with sheer willpower, focus, and skill.

"I fly this way all the time," he says, urgent this time. "It's totally safe."

"That's not -- Max, I just get nervous. It's not really to do with safety. I just don't really enjoy it."

"Oi," George says, rousing. "What are you two yapping about?"

"Go back to snoring, George," Max says, not taking his eyes off you.

"Do I really snore?" you hear him ask in a hushed tone. Carmen shushes him.

"Pulling up to the plane now, folks," the driver calls back.

"Seriously," Max says, sounding a little desperate. "It'll be alright."

"I know. I fly all the time, Max." His frown deepens.

"To come see me," he reminds you. "If I knew you didn't like it, I would have --"

"What?" you interrupt. "Invented teleportation? It's okay, Max. Knowing it's to see you makes the whole thing easier, honestly."

This does not satisfy him. You can tell. It's a problem he can't solve -- his least favorite kind. There is no simulation to run for this, no meeting he can talk through, no track he can circle a thousand times.

The van door opens and you're all beckoned out onto the tarmac. You follow George and Carmen with your bag and Max is at your heels, his duffle slung over one shoulder and his other hand on the small of your back. Normally, he's not this touchy, but he seems reluctant to let your conversation in the van go.

"Max--"

"I'm thinking, liefje."

You roll your eyes. "About how to invent teleportation?"

"Something like that," he grumbles.

The jet is narrow, an aisle on one side and four rows of seats on the other. Four sets of two, a table between them. Carmen and George settle into one nook and you toss your bags into another. You slide into the window seat and Max sits heavily in the one next to you, still frowning. You let him, instead looking around to absorb the new experience.

It's much nicer than a regular plane, that's for sure. There is a cooler stocked with drinks and a cabinet full of what seems to be snacks. You can stretch your legs to rest your feet on the seat across from you. It's so early you figure all of you will just sleep, though Max's mood seems at odds with that plan.

The pilot introduces herself and gives a quick rundown of the route and airtime. You all nod and smile and then the doors close and the lights dim.

Max's hand finds yours immediately. You sit up a little and look over at him. He looks even more frazzled than he did at the hotel, when you both rolled out of bed and into comfy clothes. Soft pants and a hoodie that make him look boyish, younger than he is. But here, his cheeks are a little flushed and his jaw is set like he's about to get in his race car.

"What do you do normally?" he asks, softly. You can hear George's soft snores already. "When I'm not there."

"Max," you sigh.

"Tell me, please?"

The seat shifts under you as it heads for the runway. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

"Well, I don't hold some random guy's hand," you tease. He squeezes your palm and huffs. 

"He could be so lucky."

The plane comes to a stop and you know what happens next. Your mind remains preoccupied with Max -- a good thing, right now -- but your body tenses and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter as the engines kick up and you pick up speed.

Max says your name but you don't budge. "Liefje," he whispers, much closer than before. You can feel his breath on your cheek as he gently holds your chin with two fingers and turns your face towards him.

And then he's kissing you. A closed mouth press of his lips to yours, firm but still. At least until you sigh into it, releasing your death grip on the arm rest to reach for him blindly, your tangled fingers between you. The kiss deepens, his nose sliding against yours as you part your lips and the chaste press becomes more. Max's tongue licks into your mouth leisurely, like he has all the time in the world to explore you. 

You kiss and kiss and kiss, so long that a voice in your head wonders if maybe you can do this for the whole flight, please? Max tugs your legs across his until you're practically in his lap, spread across the two seats like they're one.

"We're reached cruising altitude," the speakers crackle. "Feel free to move about, but please be mindful."

Max pulls away, a strand of spit glistening between you until he wipes it away with a smirk. His hair is even messier than before and his cheeks are pink. Lips swollen, eyes glassy -- you must look the same. Your heart is racing and you laugh, breathless.

"Well," Max says, then swallows. His voice is raspy, hoarse with desire. "Guess you have to fly with me from now on."

"Max." You pitch forward and settle where his neck and shoulder meet and inhale. His arms wrap around you and he holds you close. You can hear his heart racing just as fast as yours.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles. "I know."

"I can do it," you remind him. "I do it all the time. I just don't like it, that's all."

You feel the press of his lips on your hair.

"I just don't like that I can't fix it," he says. "I can't get inside your head and make you know it's alright."

"No, you can't," you sigh. The plane jerks just a little -- a swoop of your stomach that has you gasping. Max's hold on you tightens and he says your name.

"How do you do this alone?" he rasps, mouth next to your ear as he rubs your back.

"I close my eyes," you say, taking deep breaths. "And I imagine you with me."

He curses softly. "We should get a jet by ourselves next time," he mutters. "Then I can really distract you."

That gets you to laugh, though you can't say you hate the idea. It makes you feel warm, makes you press your thighs together.

"Next time," you echo. "But for now..."

Max cups your jaw and ghosts his nose over yours. "For now..."

He brings your lips together.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

BEG!

Tags: Satoru x fem!Reader, nocurse!au, misogynistic!gojo, college!au, reader puts him in his place, CRACK do not take this fic seriously, enemies to lovers, suggestive, mdni

Synopsis: Satoru is a stupid alpha bro who’s misogynistic and a play boy in a fraternity at your college. He learns that he can’t walk all over you, and that turns him on.

An: Thank you to everyone who commented on that post and encouraged me to write this! I didn’t think you guys would eat it up like you did 😅 I thought this would be a smutty one-off, but I actually wanted to try and make it into something a little more meaningful; hence why it took a bit longer to post. This is only part one :)

The party. |

His house screamed wealth and overconsumption at every corner. Money was obviously frivolously spent with building and furnishing the Gojo fraternity house. It was sleek, modern, but still a devastating bachelor’s pad.

The Gojo fraternity held parties every day of the weekend, including Sunday. Women got in for free, and men had to pay 5 dollars to get in. Not that Satoru needed the money — he was disgustingly wealthy and a trust fund baby. He merely charged guys money that way no one below his standard could just waltz into his frat house.

Of course, he truly believed every other man in the frat house was below him in some way. He had the full package: smart, funny, rich, handsome, a dick that should be registered as a legal weapon.

It was no wonder that women was never an issue for him. He found flirting with them to be like child’s play. It’s just too fucking easy…. pun intended. He and Suguru once had a challenge to see who could pick up the most women in a single night. Satoru ended his night after fucking 9 women in a single night, and one of those events was actually a foursome between him and three girls at once.

Honestly, he could be so much worse. With a witty personality and a mouth that just won’t shut up, he could talk his way into or out of anything.

It’s a Sunday night, which usually isn’t a big turn out for the party at his house since everyone has class the next morning. Plus, all homework is due at 11:59pm on Sundays. But this turn out was just embarrassing, there was merely 10 people all sat in his living room.

Suguru already had a girl in his lap. Everyone was giggling about something. Satoru felt like he had a chip on his shoulder, he wasn’t the center of attention right now, so he had to fix that.

Plus, there was a pretty girl in the room who he wanted to impress.

Sitting down in front of you, Satoru grins and hands you a cup undoubtedly of liquor. “Here you go, sweetness. Have one more.” He encourages, knowing that it’d be easier to chat you up if you’re a little buzzed.

“Oh, thanks.” You smile politely, and you fake taking a drink out of it. You’ve heard the stories about Satoru, and there’s just no way in hell you’re drinking something he gives you.

“What are you all talking about?” Satoru asks with a casual grin, and he takes a sip of his own drink.

“Oh, just how dumb Andrew Tate is.” A nobody responds from within the group.

“What? He’s not dumb…” Satoru nearly pouts as his favorite starboy was being harshly criticized by his friends.

“Oh god, don’t tell me you like him.” You say with disgusted look on your face as you eye Satoru. Now, you’re definitely not drinking whatever he just gave you.

Satoru’s face twists in defense as you so boldly speak up about his interests. It’s clear to you that he’s offended, but he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it.

“Why? What do you think is so bad about him?” He retorts as he cocks an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat to try to appear as confident and collected as possible.

“How about how he treats women like shit?” You ask, raising your own eyebrow. Satoru has another thing coming if he thinks you’re just going to bow down and not argue with him because he’s rich.

“He doesn’t treat women like shit-? Where are you getting your facts from?” Satoru argues, and his jaw tightens a minuscule amount. It’s bad enough that he’s being challenged, but he’s being challenged by a woman.

“His literal interviews, and the video of him literally beating a woman?”

“That video was just a sex act without any context.” He dismisses, rolling his eyes and not dispelling any claims about the interviews.

“Bitch, is that what sex sounds like to you? Because you must not be doing it right if she sounds like that.”The room erupts into laughter, and Satoru’s face only makes it better. His pale skin is becoming a little flushed. His eyebrow is twitching slightly with anger.

He takes a breath before quickly recovering. He hasn’t forgotten his objective tonight is to sleep with you. His signature smile returns to his face, and he leans in slightly. “I don’t know. Why don’t you come teach me how to do it right?”

“As if. I’d rather grind my pussy against a cheese grater than fuck an Andrew Tate fan.” More laughter breaks out amongst the small group of people.

Satoru’s jaw drops as he looks at you with disbelief. You’d rather… grate your cunt than sleep with him? “Oh yeah? So, what kind of guy piques your interest then, princess? You probably like those woke emasculated guys. Suguru might be more up your alley.”

“Hey, what the fuck?” Suguru laughs, chunking an empty beer can at Satoru’s head. The girl in Suguru’s lap continues to mindlessly giggle and play with his hair.

“No, I like men who are calm and capable. Maybe a guy who can lead but also knows when to take the backseat.” You explain, eyes wandering over Satoru’s stature. “I like them funny and kind.”

“See? I’m just what you need, princess. I can do all those things and so much more.”

“Yeah? You’re going to take the backseat sometimes?” You challenge with a knowing smile on your face. You already know what type of guy Satoru is based off of this sole interaction — plus all of the horror stories of how he’s a modern-day Casanova.

“Princess, the only time you’ll need me to take a backseat is when you’re riding that pretty pussy against my face.” His cerulean eyes gleam against the LEDs in the room. He’s fully confident that will win you over.

Your face stays completely flat. You don’t even crack a small pity smile for him. “Oh sorry, was this meant to be the part where you’re funny?”

Satoru looks at you, and you see a small twitch in his eye. He’s never had someone match his wit or his sass before. You were the perfect challenge for him — his perfect match up.

He tips his red solo cup up until his finishes the rest of his drink. Fuck sleeping with you. He wants to make you beg for him to fuck you while he just laughs in disinterest. You’re his mission now.

“You’re cute, princess.” He finally comments before getting comfortable in his chair again. “You don’t have to act like you don’t want me. ‘s okay. No one here will blame you.”

Your arms cross over your chest, and your lips curl into a frown. As much as you want to pretend to be unbothered, your face can help but show the irritation you feel from him. He’s unwavering, thinking that he will just argue and flirt his way to winning you over.

He needs to be humbled real quick, and you’ve got nothing else better to do.

“Oh really? Thank god. I’ve been dying to get on my knees and suck the most mediocre dick of my life.”

“You have the wrong guy, sweetness. I’m anything but mediocre.” He retorts without missing a beat.

By this time, most of everyone has stopped paying attention to you two — used to Satoru’s antics by now. This is just another Sunday night for him — chasing pussy as per usual.

“Yeah? Any guy who constantly boasts about how good they are in bed usually isn’t good at all.” You respond with a small eye roll.

Satoru’s strong arms cross over his chest. He’s wearing a simple white shirt with some black pants. It’s overwhelming plain, but it compliments him so well since his appearance is striking enough as it is. “I never boasted, princess. I simply stated that I wasn’t mediocre.”

You let out a small scoff and shake your head. It was honestly arguing with a brick wall. “Semantics. Either way, I don’t want to fuck you.” You dump your liquor out into a potted plant that’s next to the couch.

Wondering why you even decided to come to this stupid party, you stand up, and Satoru follows suit. “Hey now, darling. Come on. Don’t leave now. The night’s still young.” He tries to smooth things over as he takes puts his hands up in surrender. “I promise I won’t call out the obvious sexual tension between us for the rest of the night.”

“I have more sexual tension with your fake houseplant that I dumped my liquor into.” You deadpan, gathering your things as you decide that a cozy night in would be better than this mess.

Walking outside the house after everyone wishes you goodbye, you let out an audible sigh as you hear the door open and shut once more behind you. You spin on your heel to find Satoru jogging up behind you.

“Did I ruin your mood that much?” He asks with a small smile, shoving his hands into his pockets as he falls in step beside you.

“Well, following me home is certainly not giving you any bonus points.” You retort, tugging your jacket a little bit closer to your body. “Besides, that’s not really my scene.”

Satoru glances over at you as the two of you walk. He finds himself hypnotized in the way your skin glows in the moonlight. He would be lying if he tried to convince himself that you weren’t pretty because you are. Gorgeous — in fact.

“Really?” His voice is a shade softer now that he doesn’t have everyone’s eyes on him. “You seemed like a natural in there.”

You shrug your shoulders, not offering up any more information about yourself to him. He’s just another misguided frat boy with no intentions to change who’s looking to hit.

Satoru hates silence almost as much as he hates not being the center of attention. He hates how you’re not giving in even the slightest for him

“We should go out to dinner together sometime. I think you’d be surprised on how well I can fit in to any scene.” He offers, not quite giving up on hope just yet. He’s determined to get you in his bed, genuinely deluding himself that it would be a favor to you and him.

“No thanks.” Your voice is blunt as you step toward the entrance of a girls’ dormitories. Satoru’s technically not allowed inside at this late of an hour, but he’d be amused to see who would try and stop him. His family is the top donor of the university. He practically owns this place.

He stands there baffled for a moment as you turn down his date invitation. Rejecting his sexual advances is one thing, but you won’t even give him the time of day.

“So, when can I see you?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed and lips curled into a small pout.

“You’ll unfortunately probably see me in class.” You respond, letting the door close behind you and checking to make sure it locked. Breathing a sigh of relief, you trudge your way up the steps to finally get away from that leech of a man.

Satoru stays at the door for a moment, contemplating following you inside — not for any nefarious reason. He just truly believes that you’d like him if you gave him the time of day. One of his many charming qualities is that he can talk anyone into enjoying his presence.

He had already made up his mind. You’re going to like him. You’re going to sleep with him too and like it, and he’s definitely not going to catch feelings for you so he can make you feel as embarrassed as he did tonight.

He’ll just have to set his plan in motion during class.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon mouths up to the underside of Bernard’s jaw and gives the other’s ass another squeeze before sliding his hand back down under his thigh, making sure not to block anything Tim might wanna see of either of them in the process. He tugs Bernard’s thigh up a little higher–just enough to make sure Tim gets a real nice view of the next roll of their hips–and Bernard’s fingers dig into his scalp and spine, just a little, and the camera goes off in a rapid rush of clicks. Kon’s skin buzzes, and he drags his teeth shut just above the apple of Bernard’s throat. 

“Fuuuuuck,” Bernard groans, tipping his head back even farther. “I think you are getting ‘speechless’ out of me, seriously, I am not capable of keeping up with the flirty talk right now.” 

“I can talk,” Kon says, licking his lips briefly without pulling back from Bernard’s throat, so just the tip of his tongue flicks across it too. Bernard shudders. 

“Is that a threat?” he asks with a shaky laugh, and Kon grins against his throat again and then nuzzles back down it. 

“Naw, man, told you, I wanna few more rides on that dick of yours,” he purrs, and puts his weight into the next roll of his hips down against Bernard’s. “Never came like that before, swear I felt it in my fucking gut.” 

“God–yeah, yeah, prostate orgasm’s a bit–bit different, feels different,” Bernard stutters out breathlessly, his nails dragging down the back of Kon’s neck and other hand fisting tighter in his hair. “Jesus, you really do run hot, fuck, feel like I’m grinding on a friggin’–I dunno, a friggin’ heat rock or something.” 

“A heat rock, babe?” Tim asks wryly, and Bernard makes a face at him and then chokes on another groan as Kon just kinda–just kinda puts a bit more of his TTK out there and makes it press down heavy against the other’s body. With like, maybe just a little extra attention for a few specific spots on it, maybe. “Hm.” 

“Well it’s that or somebody just fucking forged this dick out of literal steel, alright?” Bernard pants, gripping Kon’s neck harder and hooking the leg he tugged up earlier around his waist. Kon really, really likes how it feels getting held onto like that. “Christ, you’re thick. Like everywhere. All the places. Seriously, I swear to fuck, if I were a bucket of water–” 

“Bernard. Honey. Sweetheart. Light of my conspiracy board. You really cannot take him, even with a long weekend involved in the process,” Tim says wryly. "Literally neither of us can or could."

“Yeah, I’m aware, but like . . .” Bernard bites his lip and flicks his eyes down towards Kon again, which he only knows because in this close and touching there is no way his TTK could not feel it. He’s personally way too busy mouthing at the guy’s pulse and stroking his TTK along his ribs and his hands up his sides to lift his head himself, though, so he figures that’s just whatever right now. “Guh, fucking hell, how can you even touch this many places at once, that is not fair.” 

“You want some more?” Kon asks, and licks his lips again as he lets his TTK flex around him. “I can do more.” 

Kon is not actually sure if the things Bernard says in response to that are gods’ names or just, like, very weird curses or something or maybe just a Gotham thing, but Bernard says them very feelingly and in fact straight-up viciously. 

“Hm,” Tim says again, sounding just musing enough that all Kon hears is Robin. “Pet. Does that mean you can touch his prostate without having to open him up for it?” 

“Oh fuck you, babe,” Bernard wheezes, and Kon bites the inside of his cheek and lifts his head just enough to glance over at Tim again. 

Tim snaps a picture of his face, then smiles at him. 

Kon’s whole body burns. 

“Want me to?” he asks, his voice maybe feeling a little rough in his throat, and Bernard groans and Tim–

Tim just keeps smiling the exact same smile at him, and Kon immediately wants his dick back in him. Well–actually Kon immediately wants a lot of things, but “Tim’s dick back in him” feels like it’d cover most of them. 

“Well, Bernard’s right, prostate orgasms do feel pretty different,” Tim says in that same musing tone that Kon can only think of “Robin” when he hears. “And I think he really does want you to fuck him right now.” 

“I will literally fucking kill you, Tim,” Bernard swears, ducking his head down against Kon’s shoulder. He doesn’t loosen the grip of either his hands or the leg he has around him, though, and Kon . . . 

“You can decide if you wanna follow through on that after my boy takes care of you, babe,” Tim replies, his smile just barely widening, and Kon thinks that means–“You’ll make Bernard feel nice, won’t you, pet? Pay him back for fucking you so good and getting you all opened up for me so I could get carried away?” 

“Please let me,” Kon manages hoarsely, because he can’t manage anything else, and Robin smiles at him. 

“Fuck you both, you kinky fucking bastards,” Bernard swears into his shoulder, and Kon can’t take his eyes off Tim at all.

[janeyseymour]

Never in a Million Years, Unless... part 4, final

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Summary: melissa schemmenti said she’d never do a lot of things. until you come along.

WC: ~3.05k

The idea of planning a wedding with Melissa is easy enough. While she’s the one who had proposed marriage, she’s done this before- you haven’t. So, while her hand is in the mix when it comes to decisions, it’s mostly what you want. She’ll put her two sense in when she deems it necessary, but for the most part, it’s you. 

You won’t lie, you’re exhausted over all of the wedding planning on top of teaching. Pulling off a wedding is long and hard. Nights usually end in you falling asleep with various papers scattered over you, a mix of papers to look through for the wedding and IEP papers for your students. You’re exhausted throughout the weekdays, and weekends that were once spent lazing around and soaking up any energy you could for the upcoming week are replaced with going to different venues, different fittings, various tastings…

But that day comes and goes. Mr. Johnson walks Melissa down the aisle, your own father walks you down. Jacob ends up officiating the wedding, being something of a son to your now wife. Barbara stands at the redhead’s side, while you have Janine standing by yours. You’re officially Mrs. Schemmenti. The plaque by your doors change from ‘Ms. Schemmenti’ and ‘Ms. Y/N’ to ‘Mrs. Schemmenti’s outside of both of your classrooms. The rings that you wear stay on your fingers and sparkle brightly. 

Not much changes in all actuality. Before the two of you officially decided to tie the knot, you were essentially married anyway. The two of you still live the lives that you did as girlfriends.

About a year goes by as married women before your mother begins asking you again when you’ll have a child on Christmas Eve.

“Mom,” you sigh out softly from your place beside Melissa. Her hand lays gently on your thigh.

“I’ll I’m saying is-”

“I don’t know that we want kids, Mom,” you tell your mother very flatly. “We both have a lot going on with the kids at school as it is.”

That first statement doesn’t necessarily tell the whole truth. You would like to have children of your own. But you know that your wife doesn’t- that topic was one that you spoke about in detail when you were getting serious. 

“Those aren’t kids that I get to spoil though,” your mother argues back.

You have to bite your tongue from lashing out on the holiday, but your wife just chuckles from beside you, squeezing your leg gently. “We’ll see,” is all she says before dotting a few warm kisses to the side of your head.

You turn to look at her with furrowed brows, and she just gives you a smile that tells you that you’ll speak about it later.

Of course, you both get swept up in holiday traditions, and the topic of potentially having children of your own doesn’t come up again that day. You’re both exhausted by the festivities, and you’re asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow.

But come Christmas Day, you’re settling on your couch in the living room again with a stack of presents for each other.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” Melissa tells you softly as she hands you the last present that she has for you.

Your eyes sparkle with love for the redhead that you’re lucky enough to call your wife. “Hun, you already got me enough.”

“Just open this one,” she prompts. “I think you’ll like it.”

With a lifted brow, you begin to carefully unwrap the present, and when you open the box, there’s a few things in it.

a stuffed bear and a… a onesie?

“Mel, what?” you turn to look at the woman sitting next to you. “What is this?”

You know she isn’t pregnant. There’s physically no possible way for either of you to be pregnant at this moment.

“I’m ready.”

Your eyes immediately begin to well with tears. “Mel, I-” You wipe at your eyes frantically as you continue to look at the items in the box. You pull them out carefully to get a better look at them. They’re- they’re absolutely precious.

“Mel, you told me-”

“I told you a lot of things,” your wife says softly as she reaches up to brush away the remaining tears from your cheeks. “I told you I would never date a coworker, I told you I would never get married again, I told you I wouldn’t ever take the plastic off my couches or lamp. Didn’t I do all those things anyway?”

“Y-yeah,” you choke out.

“You’re the miracle in my life, babe,” Melissa tells you with conviction. She leans in to kiss you gently. “So, what if I changed my mind on this one thing too?”

Your arms around your wife tightly, tears clouding your eyes again as you truly realize that she’s serious about having a baby with you if you’re ready. “Really?”

“Really,” the redhead mumbles into your hair. “I know you want at least one, and I- I’m ready to take that on, as long as it’s with you.”

And so, once the holiday season is over, you begin to pour over your options in terms of how you want to go about attempting to have a child. It does sadden you slightly that the two of you can’t make a baby on your own- that this child will not have the DNA that your wife does entirely- but one of her brothers is more than willing to help you with this affair.

The only person aside from your brother in-law to know is Barbara Howard. Melissa and you confide in her quietly during a professional development day when you both seem more stressed than usual.

“Melissa, dear,” the kindergarten teacher knocks on her doorframe softly. She had really only come down to see if the three of you were going to lunch like you usually do on these days, but what she had walked into was not what she was expecting to see. Where your wife would usually be scrolling on her phone, glasses on the tip of her nose, because she was caught up with her work, Barbara sees the redhead with her head in her hands, fingers entangled in the curls. Where you would be humming quietly as you plan for the next coming days, you’re near tears.

“Girls?” your grade level partner comes into the room and shuts the door behind her. “Is now not a good time?”

That gets your wife to look up, although you continue to stare down at the papers in front of you.

“Melissa, what’s going on?” Barbara treads lightly.

“Stressed to hell and back,” your wife grumbles. “Trying to-” She glances to you. “Trying to have a baby is… good lord.”

Brown eyes widen, and perfectly sculpted brows creep up the kindergarten teacher’s face. “What?”

“We haven’t told anyone,” you whisper. “But I- we’re trying to get pregnant, and it’s… it’s just been a lot.”

Barbara nods sympathetically and pulls you into a warm hug. “I understand that. I’m sorry it’s been so hard.”

“Three treatments,” you sniffle out. “We have one more shot, and then we won’t have the money to try again for… for a long time.”

“Oh honey,” the kindergarten teacher whispers as she rubs circles on your back. “Sweetheart.”

“I- I don’t know what we’re doing wrong,” you mumble into her shoulder.

Melissa groans again. “I told you, you ain’t doin’ anything wrong. I don’t know how many fuckin’ times I have to tell you that.”

“Melissa,” Barb tries to cut in. 

“It just- it takes time. And maybe now isn’t our time,” your wife continues.

You whip around and look at her, tears and remnants of mascara streaming down her face. “Is our time going to come then? What if it doesn’t? We’ve been through this three times, we’re- we’re running out of time!”

Green eyes meet yours, and you can tell that she’s ready to fight fire with fire, but at your heartbroken look, she softens. “Honey.”

“I can’t keep doing this!” you cry. “I- I can’t! Do you know the toll that it’s taking on me, physically and mentally? I-” you lose yourself to tears, hugging yourself and not even bothering to wipe at your eyes anymore. There’s no use.

Melissa sighs and she makes her way over to you, wrapping you up in her own arms. “Mi amore.”

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” your wife tells you softly as she kisses your temple. “I’m the one who should be sorry… I shouldn’t have started swearing.”

You chuckle through your thick tears. “Maybe not.”

“I’ll be sure to pray over the two of you,” Barb promises. “I’ll leave you be for now.”

“We’re still going to lunch, right?” You look up. “I- I think we could all use some time out of this damned building.”

“If that’s what you want,” your counterpart tells you. “But I also won’t say nothin’ if you two decide to just go home at lunch… not like Ava’s here to notice anyway, and I know the two of you are all caught up on your work.”

Your wife’s eyes twinkle with just a bit of mischief. “We might sneak out then, if that’s alright with you.”

“I’ll swear Janine to secrecy and take her out to lunch as a bribe,” Barbara chuckles as she turns on her heel.

“Thank you,” you call softly as you wipe your nose with a tissue.

“Of course,” your grade partner replies. Then she turns back to face you. “And hey, I’ll be praying for you.”

When the rest of the crew sees you and Melissa leaving the school with all of your bags come lunch time, well… Barbara Howard is there to shoot them daggers and dare them to challenge her authority in not saying anything.

By the time your fourth and final appointment comes around, you and your wife had made peace with the fact that it just may not be in the cards for you to have a child of your own this way. You’ve discussed other options- adoption, foster care. No matter what, the two of you have decided that whatever happens is okay. There’s no more stress around it.

You leave the appointment not feeling any different than you had before you had gone in. Time will just have to tell.

The time comes for you to take that damned test again, and you really aren’t expecting anything to come from it.

“Whatever happens, happens,” you sigh as take the test from your wife’s hand. She kisses you softly and nods before you disappear behind the door.

You do your business, set it on the counter, start your timer, and then walk out of the room. You can’t just sit there for the next five minutes dwelling on it.

“I love you,” Melissa whispers as she takes you into her arms gently.

“I love you too,” you mumble as you sit down on the bed.

The next few minutes feel like hours as you mindlessly scroll through social media. But then your phone starts to buzz, signifying the time is up, and your fate is in the bathroom.

You take a deep, fortifying breath to steady yourself. Melissa just squeezes your shoulder gently before the two of you make your way out of your bedroom and into the bathroom.

“Are you ready?” the redhead asks you softly.

You shrug. “I have to be, right?”

“Whatever it says, we’re going to be okay,” Melissa promises you. “No matter what.”

Neither of you makes a move towards the test.

“Can you look at it?” you ask as you hug yourself tightly. “I- I’m nervous.”

“Yeah,” your wife sighs softly. “I can look.”

You turn your back to the test, facing the mirror, although you keep your eyes down. You don’t want to see the look of disappointment on her face when she sees that it reads negative again like you had the other three times.

Because you’re facing away from your wife, you don’t see the wide eyes or the grin that appear on her face almost as soon as she reads that one simple word: positive. She sets the test back down on the counter and looks to you. 

Her arms snake their way around your waist and gently pry your hands away from your body.

“Stop hogging our baby,” she teases you softly.

It takes a few seconds for her words to sink in, but when they do, your jaw drops. You freeze in her arms.

“What did you just say?”

“I said to stop hogging our baby,” your wife repeats. “Let me in on the cuddles.”

“You- we’re- it worked?” you stammer out as you turn to face the redhead.

She nods with an ear splitting grin on her face. “It worked, mi amore. It worked.”

“We’re going to be parents?” you ask her, tears of joy rapidly falling down your face.

She nods again. “We’re going to be parents.”

You and Melissa both understand that you’re quite early into the pregnancy, and there is a risk this early on, so you don’t announce anything quite yet. And it’s difficult to do so. Your excitement is hard to contain, and your wife’s is even more so.

Morning sickness hits you hard. It hits you hard, and it hits you out of nowhere- which only makes it more difficult to keep this big secret of yours between you and your wife.

You’ve taken to eating lunch in your classroom more often, under the guise of having things to work on and prepare for. In reality, the many different aromas that swirl through the break room are enough to make you want to vomit the second you step into the room- much less sit there for thirty minutes. 

Those who aren’t aware that you were going through fertility treatments are none the wiser, accepting that you’ve got more on your plate than usual this year. But Melissa knows. And she has an inkling that Barbara is aware of it too.

That suspicion is confirmed when your grade level partner comes into your classroom one morning with you bent over the trashcan and your wife holding your hair back for you.

“Oh honey,” the kindergarten teacher mumbles as she makes her way into the classroom and shuts the door behind her. “I’m assuming that last round worked?”

You close your eyes as yet another wave of nausea ripples its way through your body, but you force yourself to nod. “Please tell me all of this nausea is worth it.”

“I was sick as hell with Taylor,” Barbara sighs. “It’s worth it.” She then proceeds to pull a bag of something out of her purse and hands it to your wife. “These might help. My niece had terrible morning sickness with her son, and these lollipops did wonders for her.”

“Thank you,” Melissa smiles softly. She reaches the hand that isn’t holding your hair up and gently squeezes her best friend’s wrist.

“How far along?”

“Eight,” your wife relays. “It’s been like this for the last two weeks.”

“Well, hopefully those work,” Barb shrugs. She turns on her foot to leave the two of you be, but she stops herself in her tracks. “Congratulations, you two. You’re going to make wonderful mothers to a very lucky baby.” You hear her press a kiss to Melissa’s cheek before you feel one being planted on the top of your head.

As soon as you’re finished emptying the contents of your stomach, your wife hands you the small container of mouthwash that you now keep in your purse. You take it with a grateful smile before spitting it out into the trash can. Melissa closes it up quickly and takes it out of the room before she reenters and hands you a lollipop.

“Mel, I don’t want a lollipop,” you chuckle softly.

She insists you take it. “Barb said it’s supposed to help with the morning sickness.”

You’ve never open a sucker so quickly.

Those things work like a miracle, and you keep them on hand for the rest of your pregnancy. 

When it comes time to tell the Abbott clan, you’re thirteen weeks and you’re able to conceal the newly appearing bump under slightly baggy sweaters and shirts. The group is thrilled with this news, clearly excited to shower the newest addition to the Abbott family with lots of love.

After telling them, they’re all a bit more mindful of what they bring into the staff room for lunch- a considerate gesture. They’re constantly bringing in little gifts for your unborn baby. It was clear to you before how much your work family cared for you, but this only proves to you how lucky you are to have these ridiculous, goofy, wonderful, special people in your life.

And after what feels like forever, you’re holding a stunningly beautiful little girl in your arms.

“Margaret Jane,” you whisper to the little bundle of blankets. “Our little Maggie.”

“The little girl that we wished and prayed for,” your wife mumbles as she strokes your daughter’s cheek with the tip of her finger. Her eyes don’t leave the baby, but you feel a soft kiss being pressed to your head as she whispers, “I’m so proud of you.”

You look up at her tiredly, but the warm smile on your face hasn’t left since you were handed your girl for the first time a few hours ago. You lean up just slightly, as much as your aching body will allow. Your wife leans down the rest of the way to kiss you softly.

“You know,” Melissa sighs quietly. “If you had told a recently divorced me that this is what my life would turn out to be… having a perfect wife and a beautiful little girl I get to call my daughter, I would’ve told you that you were bat shit crazy- never in a million years would that happen.”

“I know,” you laugh tiredly.

“Miracles really do happen,” your wife says softly as her fingers brush over the small tufts of red hair atop your daughter’s head. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

[spotsandsocks]

Teasey Tuesday/WIP Wednesday 🛏️

Tagged by @elvensorceress (so excited to see you on the dash again 😘) @tizniz @bekkachaos @jesuisici33 loved all your snippets 💜💜💜

Only one bed fic will be shared at the weekend, I think it’s called A place for you, next to me. It’s ended up as M/E rated and 23k. Here’s a little tease.

The noise warns him and as if conjured by his thoughts, the bathroom door clicks and a cloud of steam drifts out, a prelude to the appearance of Buck, wrapped in a towel and nothing else.

It’s the alcohol in his veins that makes the blood heat and rush around his body to flood his cheeks, leaving Eddie flustered in a sudden wave of heat and a pooling of something he’d won’t name low in his stomach.

Buck looks good. Far too good and right now Eddie’s more than a little unsure if he can sleep next to Buck tonight after all.

Unaware of the inner turmoil Eddie’s dealing with, Buck's expression flits from surprised to embarrassed, at this quite predictable meeting in the hotel room they’re sharing. The blush creeping down his face and lower is like a sunrise in reverse and Eddie can’t look at it.All the jumbled up emotions get more jumbled when Eddie’s forced to endure a nose wrinkle that makes his heart jump. The poor battered thing in his chest must need a break, it’s been quite the day!

And then a new wip but I’ve actually just finished is this random thing I just decided to write yesterday. Eddie finally tells Buck about what happened between him and Kim. I wrote it because I wanted Buck to know what Eddie went through, I really do think someone should know! It’s called Give me a moment it’s 2.6k and it’ll be here pretty soon.

Lifting himself up off the floor to rest on one elbow Buck studies the profile of the calm still face of his best friend. It’s the face of a man who’s resigned himself to his fate. Eddie’s flat on his back, eyes closed lying in the remnants of a life he’d tried to build for himself and his son. A life that collapsed around him after one bad decision..

“When she left I thought it was over. I was relieved, thought it would be ok but then she came back.”

If Eddie was looking at him he’d see the frown land on Buck’s face at that brand new piece of information. What does Eddie mean she came back?

Next to him, the facade falters and Eddie’s face crumples, his feelings escaping. Buck knows It’s just a weak echo of the distress he must have felt that day, made smaller, quieter by Eddie’s rigid self control.

“She came back Buck and she looked…”

It sounds like a confession, Eddie’s breath shakes on the way out and Buck’s heart beats faster. There’s something bad coming. Something he doesn’t know about.

I shall inflict tagging for this and the actual post later on my usual victims but if you want out or even to get tagged for either of these lmk!

@actualalligator @beyourownanchor6 @buddiediaz118 @becausebuckley @bi-buckrights @caroandcats @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @dr-shortsighted-owl @darkrose6578 @diazsdimples @doctorkinney @disasterbuck @diazheartsbuckley @eddiebabygirldiaz @exhuastedpigeon @fiona-fififi @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @inell @lonelychicago @monsterrae1 @repressedqueen @ronordmann @rainbow-nerdss @spaceprincessem @stagefoureddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @shipperqueen6 @thekristen999 @thelikesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @theotherbuckley @singitforthegirls @weewootruck @wildlife4life @bucks-daddy-issues @buffaluff @kejfeblintz

[fuctacles]

<< 2

The quickly approaching Saturday would be impossible to forget even if Steve wasn’t excited about it himself, because Max had been discussing her outfit every single day. 

When Eddie’s van came screeching onto their curb, her wardrobe was all over her bedroom while Steve was busy doing the dishes. He could hear the familiar sound of his garage door opening, the steps approaching the side door, and the tiny knocks Eddie always gave as a warning before popping his shaggy head into the kitchen to say hi.

Steve, despite himself, was already smiling as he turned towards him. The man waved his fingers in greeting, grinning back.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Excited for today?”

“Man, am I?” he hopped up and down on the balls of his feet. “We haven’t played a weekend gig in forever. The turnout is always so much better.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

Eddie opened his mouth to say something, but loud stomping on the stairs interrupted him.

“Mr. Eddie!”

“Yes, Mad Max?!” he yelled back to match the girl’s volume.

Steve winced at their antics.

“Is this good enough for a metal concert?” she asked as soon as she barged into the kitchen. No greeting, just her spreading her arms and doing a spin. Eddie, of course, humored her, rubbing his chin in thought.

“I’d say so, yeah. Personally would add more rips in the jeans, but it’s good anyway.”

Steve whipped around, eyes wide at his kid's outfit: Black and white T-shirt, jean jacket, and black ripped jeans. His eyes narrowed.

“You don’t own ripped jeans,” he pointed out. The redhead looked up at him like a deer in the headlights, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Next to them, Eddie wheezed in barely contained laughter. Steve turned to glower at him.

“So this is why the parents don’t like you?” he asked the man covering his mouth.

“Excuse me, I go to work dressed professionally with no holes in my clothes.” He raised his hands in defense.

That much was true. He dressed differently from the rest of the staff but not enough to be unprofessional. He often came to practice at Steve’s place soon after leaving school so today was a rare day when he could see how the metalhead dressed off the clock. He was wearing a Dio crop top, jeans shredded to pieces and a studded belt.

“Actually,” Max spoke up, pulling him away from eyeing his metalhead guest (friend?). “I saw it in a photo of Dio in an article.”

“See?!” Eddie gestured pointedly.

Steve scoffed, wiping his hands, so he could cross them and convey his annoyance properly.

“She wouldn’t know who Dio is if not for you.”

Munson, of course, exhibited no remorse. Instead, he smirked with satisfaction.

“And you wouldn’t either.”

“I don’t think it would change much in my life,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“He was already listening to a lot of rock,” Max pointed out, the little traitor. “He kept most of Billy’s tapes.”

Steve’s eyes darted to Eddie, whose eyebrows were raised with curiosity. He didn’t say anything, though, and Steve was grateful for that.

“I see,” he nodded instead, dragging his eyes along Steve’s body. “I hope you'll dress your father accordingly as well.”

Steve frowned, looking down at his polo and jeans.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

Max sighed deeply and Eddie leaned back, with played-up pity in his eyes.

“Oh, darling, where do I even start?”

Darling, darling, darling, darling.

Eddie loved his nicknames and playful banter, but they usually didn’t have time for it. Which might be a good thing, considering how quickly Eddie’s whole persona was growing on Steve.

Thankfully, Gareth's voice came through the garage door.

“Eddie! We don’t have whole day!”

The man straightened up, fumbling with his back pockets.

“Coming!” he yelled back, before turning back to the Harringtons, holding something out. “I got you these, just in case. I know it’s not the most kid-friendly environment but backstage will be open for you guys to hang out without being trampled by drunk metalheads.”

Before Steve could react, Max was snatching the offerings from Eddie - two lanyards with laminated plaques.

“Holy shit!”

“Language,” murmured Steve, eyeing what appeared to be backstage passes for the two of them. He looked up, meeting Eddie’s gaze, and felt himself go soft. This guy was thoughtful enough to think about Max. “Thank you. That’s very considerate of you.”

“Yeah,” Max nodded along. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he shrugged. “Wouldn’t want my suburban middle-class guests to mingle with the common folks.”

“That an insult?” Steve raised his eyebrow, to which Eddie started backing out toward the garage.

“Ehhh,” he waved his palm in a ‘kinda’ gesture. Then he pointed at Max to say, “Dress him up!” before disappearing.

She grinned at him, but her smile faltered when Steve’s gaze dropped to her pants.

“Don’t think I forgot about the pants, Maxine.”

“Will you forget about them if I help you to impress Eddie?” she asked innocently, making Steve straighten up.

“What?”

“Don’t make me spell it out for you,” she rolled her eyes. “You acted the same around Billy.”

His head whipped to the garage, but the doors were already closed and the faint sounds of a guitar were coming from behind them. He leveled Max with a gaze he hoped was threatening but she was, of course, unfazed.

“What? You’re allowed to date, you know?”

“I know,” he gritted out,  brows furrowing at being reprimanded by a teenager.

“We’re doing well. My therapist thinks so, and so does the social worker,” she points out, the little smart ass. Steve wouldn’t change her for anyone else. “We can move on.”

Steve hummed in consideration. Maybe he should have gone into therapy as well. It was true he hadn’t dated since Billy. His death, fighting for custody while trying not to lose his business, and then dealing with a kid aged him ten years in a short time. But they settled into a comfortable routine now. Max might be right, as insane as it sounds.

“Fine,” he spat out. “I’ll forget about the pants if you keep your hands out of my love life.”

Her eyebrows shot up mischievously.

“Who said anything about love?”

“Go. Go call Mike to brag about the passes, I know you want to.”

“Hell yeah I do!” she admitted with a wide grin before darting to the phone.

------

Steve didn’t want to admit the comments about his appearance got to him, but the fact that he was staring at a pile of rejected tops was speaking for itself. His hair was certainly ruined by now with the amount of frustrated finger combing he was doing.

“Need help?” Max’s amused voice approached from the entrance of his bedroom. He turned over his shoulder, glowering. Her smile only widened. “Because I might have just the thing,” she continued, waving a piece of fabric in her hand. Steve’s eyes followed.

“What is it?”

With a smile that said evil demon child spawn of Satan, Max let the fabric unfold. It was a raglan t-shirt with a logo Steve recognized from the drums residing in his garage. His eyes widened.

“Where did you get that?”

“Won it at a music trivia Mr Eddie was hosting. It’s not exactly kid-sized though, sooo…” she trailed off suggestively.

“They have their own merch?” Steve asked curiously, motioning with his hand for the shirt.

“Yep. Mr. Eddie makes it himself!” She beamed like it was her own accomplishment and not just her music teacher being a crafty nerd. Steve smiled despite himself.

“That’s pretty cool,” he admitted.

“He makes t-shirts for school clubs too. He said he’ll try to host a screen printing workshop in the summer,” she said with that particular intonation that made Steve know she wanted something.

“Hm. That sounds like a fun activity to keep you away from drugs.”

“It does, it does,” she agreed, nodding aggressively.

“Well, consider me convinced. Now shoo, I'm not stripping in front of you.”

“Okay, Dad,” she rolled her eyes, pushing herself away from the door frame and skipping away.

As he pulled his shirt off, Steve remembered his concerns about raising a teenager by himself. Meanwhile, Eddie was a significant enough influence on her to make him feel more at ease. Was he a cookie-cutter role model? Hell no. Was he a responsible teacher who also remained cool and aloof enough to make kids listen to him? Absolutely. With someone like that on his side, parenting didn’t sound that scary.

The t-shirt with Corroded Coffin’s logo, while not being kid-sized, wasn’t Steve-sized either. It stretched across his chest and ended just at the hem of his jeans. When he pulled his arms up, his happy trail was on display.

But…

Seeing Eddie’s band on his chest, wearing a t-shirt he made himself, made all the best knots in Steve’s stomach tighten. He ran his fingertips across the exposed sliver of skin above his waistline, wondering fleetingly if the girls wearing his letterman felt similar to this.

He found a flannel Robin left in his closet at some point and threw it on to finish the look. He looked at himself in the mirror, rubbing the fabric of the overshirt between his fingers. The memory of his best friend soothed his nerves a bit.

He ran downstairs, eyeing the clock. The Hideout wasn’t a far ride from their place, so they still had time to grab a bite before leaving. A quick PB&J sounded perfect for his nerves.

“Maaaax!” he yelled from the kitchen, halfway through lathering a piece of bread in peanut butter. His precious housemate came rumbling down the stairs as he expected, just as eager to leave as he was. In fact, they still had sandwiches hanging from their mouths as they entered the car.

it's been A WHILE and this and the next part will be lower quality than my current writing bc its OLD so let me know if u want off the taglist i dont care if u do: @blasvemous @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

@dreamercec @theohohmoment @ellieslapdancer @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere

[snowyroads]

guys the Paris fic is getting posted this weekend!!!😼😼

i actually locked tf in and wrote something this week and it’s almost done!!!🤗🤗

enjoy a little sneak peek 😼:

The eiffel tower sparkled behind them, its lights pulsating in a gentle rhythm that mirrored their steps. Joe stole a glance at the window, at the dazzling lights of Paris, and then back to Ja'marr.

"You know," Joe murmured, his voice low and teasing, "I think we're supposed to be out there, sightseeing or something. Living the dream."

Ja'marr chuckled, his deep, melodic laugh vibrating against Joe's chest. "This is the dream," he replied simply, his voice soft but certain.

Joe didn’t say anything for a moment, but his fingers tightened on Ja’marr’s shoulder. Ja’marr smiled to himself. He didn’t need Joe to respond to know he felt the same way.

The song shifted into the chorus, and without thinking, Ja’marr started to hum along. The melody was simple, familiar, and before long, the words slipped out. His voice wasn’t great—scratchy, uneven in places—but he sang anyway, because it felt right.

Joe’s laugh broke through the moment, soft and bubbling like he couldn’t hold it in. Ja’marr looked down to see Joe’s face buried against his neck, his shoulders shaking with barely-contained giggles.

“What?” Ja’marr asked, grinning now, though he tried to sound annoyed.

“You’re terrible,” Joe teased, his voice muffled.

Ja’marr pulled back just enough to look at him, raising a brow. “Terrible? I’m carrying this dance, and you’re over here criticizing me?”

Joe pulled back, just enough to look at him, his blue eyes shining with amusement. “You’re not carrying. If anything, I’m leading.”

Ja’marr smirked, “Oh, is that right?” He spun them in a lazy circle, making Joe laugh harder. And before Joe could protest, Ja'marr dipped him dramatically, his hand firm on Joe's bare back to keep him steady.

Joe gasped, his laughter spilling out as he clung to Ja'marr for balance. "Okay, okay, Joe managed between breaths, "You win. You're leading."

“Damn right I am, baby”

OKAY!!! that’s all you get for now!!!🌚🌚 (hopefully this cheers some ppl up w Thanksgiving on the way!!💗💗 families can be tough, ik😔)

love yall!!!! <3333

[creationsekai]

Warning. Text. Lots of it.

Akito hears about rumours about this random girl who suddenly showed up and started sweeping all over the place and didn't think much about it. until he sees Ena singing at a live house and then he's like what the actual fuck are you doing here. He can immediately tell her heart is not in it, but she sings incredibly well despite that. He gets genuinely angry that Ena gave up art and started singing at Vivid Street. But he's also surprised, confused and maybe even jealous that she has talent for singing.

Before her singing era, Ena wandered into Vivid Street stuck with her emotions. She just gave up art. After all, she's talentless. And more than anything she wants to disappear, but giving up on life isn't an option for her. For now at least. She goes into Weekend Garage and meets Ken. Ken offers her the mic to let her emotions out, since she's obviously been crying. While singing Ena surprises herself, she good at singing. And.... people are praising her! For the reason she posts selfies, she started singing around Vivid Street. Her sudden appearance and talent surprised everyone in Vivid Street, and decides to keep singing. She doesn't have any resolve, but she doesn't realize it. She's talented and gets praise already, what would be the point of improving herself? She finds singing fun and the praise helps with her ego.

Then she comes across Akito at the live house after a gig. Ena isn't exactly surprised, after all she could hear him sing from several streets away, but she was scared to bump into him at the streets and ESPECIALLY at a live house. Akito confronts her about giving up art, and tells her that it was a terrible weak-willed decision. And so, Ena realizes she doesn't put any effort in singing. She's dissapointed in herself. She gave up art and started singing at Vivid Street? And she doesn't even have the decency to put any effort into it? What the hell? While she's emotional about art and singing, she bumps into Ken. She vents to him that she doesn't deserve art and especially singing because she doesn't even have any resolve for it. She'd probably drop it hard like she did with art the moment she thinks she's talentless and useless. She hates to admit it, but she's weak-willed just like Akito told her she is. Ken tells her there's no such as "deserving" something you love, and that she should keep going despite it. And ominously, he tells her that she will find her resolve within the people in the city. Though a bit confused, she realizes she shouldn't pay attention to the praise these people give, but instead their passion. Rude. After all.... That's what she wanted in art.

Meanwhile, Akito is overworking himself and filling his schedule to the brim with singing. Though not entirely angry anymore, he's still frustrated with Ena. He's still far from being able to surpass RAD WEEKEND, and Ena's singing showed just how much he's missing. After doing a slightly succesful live, he faints at Weekend Garage. Akito wakes up to some chocolate milk and even the An Shiraishi being worried about him. Ken reminds him to take care of his body, and especially since he just fainted. He's reluctant, since he HAS to improve, but he can't refuse his hero.... Akito and An talk, and he asks why An hasn't been singing at all for months. An reacts really weirdly, she looks sad and full of grief... But An just says Nagi isn't able to watch her surpass RAD WEEKEND anymore. Akito doesn't really wanna think about the implications.

When going home he gets challenged to a singing battle by this annoyingly rude guy he provoked in his middle school days. Without him realizing it, Ena comes across the start of their battle. Because she has been watching people sing instead of singing herself, she has gotten more passionate about singing and she's curious who'll win (and she hopes Akito beats his ass). They mention an event called RAD WEEKEND. She has heard a lot about that event while she was listening and enjoying the music of Vivid Street. Apparently it was this super exciting and unforgettable event, but she wouldn't know. Loads of people want to surpass it. Interesting dream to have, good for them I guess.

Then they start the battle. Ena is surprised at how loud Akito is, now that she's so close up to him singing. She thinks about how much heart he puts into singing compared to her. Though, Akito loses. The more skillful but annoying guy starts being, y'know, more annoying. Ena is sick of this guy making dumb and irritating insults, and then SHE challenges him to a singing battle. It was entirely on impulse, and she doesn't realize what she's done until it starts. But just like Akito she's stubborn and happy to stomp him to the ground. Ena surprised herself, as she manages to sound louder and better than usual. Though, to her surprise, she loses. She's surprised it happened, but more than anything she's dissapointed. She couldn't get more people excited than him. She wanted to beat the shit out of that guy but didn't. She doesn't put effort in, and her talent won't even cut it with the people with actual skill... In fact, her reliance on talent just makes her sound like her father! Akito tried to talk things out with her after seeing resolve from her, but Ena ran away.

Ena is the first to discover SEKAI, and she visits it. Ena tells MEIKO what happened: She's once again upset at herself for not putting effort in and relying on her talent. MEIKO tells her that she DOES put effort in, after all, she surprised herself by being better and got upset after losing the battle. Because Ena is stubborn she doesn't believe it at first, but then MEIKO suggests her to sing. Ena sings, and after she finished she's upset that she doesn't sound powerful enough and that she messed up several high notes. She wants to sing again, and MEIKO interrupts. She informs her she is proving herself wrong by wanting to sing again. Ena is still stubborn, and insists she still isn't putting nearly enough effort in like she did with art, but secretly she's happy she found her resolve. She did it through seeing the people of Vivid Street being passionate. The praise they gave her isn't just praise, and Ken didn't help just because... It was support too. Support she never got from her father. That love for music that they share with eachother, isn't something she ever got with art as well. She gets now what Ken meant.

Ena goes back to singing full-time, and the musicians say that she sounds louder than before. She isn't sure if that is supposed to be praise or not, but she takes it. If she's gonna sing after she gave up art like an idiot, she'll sing loud and shove her feelings in everyone's faces. Some passing people are whispering things like "I wonder if she'll surpass RAD WEEKEND?" Ena ignores them, though she gets more curious about this event. Maybe she should ask Ken about it.

Akito is tired of doing nothing, and he decided to go back to practicing. Akito is kinda surprised Ena lost the battle. Her talent has a limit too huh. Akito finds that he's okay with that... And that Ena sounded so resolved and determined to sing. She sounded louder than before. Far from how loud he does it, but she has build up her resolve for singing... It was just like him when he gave up on football. She's finding something new to put her life into. Though, it's hard for him to imagine Ena without art. He's still dissapointed she just gave up on art like that, but it's not all bad. Well, he's done with awkward dinners, so he'll talk with Ena. But that is a problem for future Akito. He is going to Weekend Garage....

And Ena is right there. Talking with Ken of all people. He wanted to talk to Ken, geez.... Despite that he pretends Ena doesn't mean anything to him and sits by Ken at the bar. Ena notices him, and they start a typical sibling fight. Ken drops the bombshell that he suspected they were siblings, but didn't say anything. And then he continued with answering Ena's question. What was RAD WEEKEND like? Ken explained, but he adds that Ena should hear from someone who watched instead. Well, Akito is right there! Reluctantly he explains to Ena that the event made a big impression on him, and that that night was one he will never forget. It gave him something to put his life into. Akito says that he wants to surpass RAD WEEKEND no matter what anyone tells him. Ena smiles. She remembers the time she told Akito to try singing out... And here she is singing now too. How the damn tables turn.

This exciting event Akito wants to surpass; he's putting his life into it. Ena can't just be left behind in having a life worth living. He's out there putting his life into something he loves, while Ena gave up art like a wimp and everyday she feels insignificant. She broke under the pressure of it all, and her feeling of wanting to dissappear is suffocating. Perhaps one day she'll return to art if Akito bounces back everytime, but that won't happen anytime soon. She feels terrible everyday and art makes it worse, it's suffocating. She'd rather have fun sharing passion and to just get rid of that feeling of wanting to disappear by singing on stage. This dream Akito has makes him see worth in putting his life into something.... She wonders if she'll ever find such a thing. Ena says that she's going home, and excuses herself.

Ena has gone to a live house to do a gig, and meets Akito backstage. Ena is surprised Akito is there, especially since she heard from musicians that Akito kinda dipped out. Akito tells her that he rested for a bit, but now he's practicing again. Suddenly, Akito tells her he forgives her for deciding to sing. He saw her resolve when she sang, and she was curious about RAD WEEKEND. He can't forgive her for giving up art, but he's fine with having her walking around Vivid Street. Ena is weirded out by honest Akito, and mentions that she wants cheesecake.... Then that annoying guy comes back, and he has a team? How did HE get a team to sing with? He boasts about winning against the two of them without his team, and he says they'll crush the two easily in these gigs. Ena and Akito are both still irritated by this guy, but Akito manages to nice guy his way out of giving fuel to him. So this will be a battle, huh. Slowly all the musicians get their turns to sing, and once the annoying guy team sweeps everyone else the Shinonomes realize they're up against something else. Ena just happens to be next... Akito gets an idea. They should team up. Ena is reluctant at first since why would she team up with Akito of all people.. But she realizes how good of an idea it is since teams generally get more people excited. Together they stand a chance against them. The two surprise everyone when they both walk up on the stage. They talk big. Akito says he'll surpass RAD WEEKEND, even if that means teaming up with his sister. Ena says she'll best those guys at singing, because she's infinitely better

The typical sibling rivalry they have makes them try to one-up the other. The two sound better somehow because of this desire to be the better one... Ena is trying really hard to be louder than Akito, and that way she's putting her all into it. Akito wants to be more skilled than Ena, so he sings better. They fire the other up! They manage to beat the guys, and rub it in their faces real quick.

The Shinonomes rest backstage. Ena thinks it was crazy overwhelming to get that many people excited, but she had some fun. Akito says that is why he wants to surpass RAD WEEKEND- getting that many people excited and making a night people will forever remember is his dream. Ena can't help but be intrigued, many things were already so fun in Vivid Street, but a night that beats everything else... She hates that she left art, but maybe she can put everything into surpassing RAD WEEKEND? Ena says her whims out loud, and Akito is surprised. RAD WEEKEND..? Ena explains herself, but also says she needs a team... Akito remembers that they were better tonight.. and suggest becoming a team! What?! Ena is understandably surprised, but she accepts anyway. Though, this doesn't mean she won't try to be the better singer. Akito can't agree more, he'll one-up Ena.

And then the rest of the main story plays out :3

Absolutely insane blocks of text I wrote. Trust me when I say that wasn't the intention at first. To be honest, I think a more in-character Ena would've returned to art the moment Akito got angry at her ass for giving up and being weak-willed since she's stubborn and spiteful. But like how else is she gonna start singing with Akito lmao. Maybe a lack of niigo is making her more fragile... Though I guess she will return to art in this AU in the end, she can't imagine her life without art and I can't imagine her without it either eksbejs

i think an AU where Ena and Akito become a singing team is fucking funnty

[lazylittledragon]

i keep trying to think of funny/poetic ways to talk about all the things i'm feeling right now but i honestly can't so. i'm really sad about what happened with my partner. i know he was an inconsiderate prick about it and that i didn't do anything wrong and i couldn't have prevented it but i'm just really fucking sad.

[lover-of-mine]

Have you done a color/structure(?) analysis of Buck's coming out to Eddie scene? If you haven't, could you? I just love your other ones, and that one has been niggling at me, but I don't know if there's anything there.

Okay, this took me longer than I expected because I had a weird weekend but let's do it now oaksoaksasas

The first major thing about the scene is that it is a blue and yellow scene (I have a theory about the blue and yellow you can read here) because they are playing with the sun around Buck and Eddie a lot this season, the locker room, the basketball scene, the coming out scene, that new locker room still Tim shared, even the buckley diaz family scene in 707 so that's important no matter what they are actually trying to accomplish there, if it's a reference to the way Oliver keeps saying Buck is looking for light or if queer romance has its own color combo, it's a thing and I think that the way they keep adding blue and gold/yellow to buddie scenes this season means they are absolutely doing something with it, even more considering the will reveal is very explicitly blue and yellow and we all know that scene is a key scene for the 2 of them in terms of romance.

But like, even the labels of the beers they are drinking are blue with yellow detailing, so pretty much every aspect of the scene is in that color scheme. The beer is also interesting because of the beer they usually drink being yellow and that they focused a lot on last season, going as far as making a point of showing a scene where Eddie is turning the bottle so we can see the label in 613.

Two things that feel inconsequential but are almost definitely absolutely completely on purpose in the scene are the way the shade of blue Buck is wearing is the same shade as his eyes and the way Eddie's phone has a black phone case the phone itself is green.

So not only are we dealing with the blue and yellow they are establishing, but we also have blue and green aspects going on here, tho arguably very muted. (blue and green masterpost) but this is just a detail I wanted to point out aopskloaksa

Going back to the beers, I will be honest, I keep trying to find a pattern in the scenes where they open the bottle for each other. It seems like they don't open the bottle for each other when they are discussing a problem outside of their relationship with each other? Like, Buck opens the bottle for Eddie in the kitchen scene in 309, Eddie opens the bottle in 612, and those two scenes lead to them talking about their relationship in a sense. But they just hand the bottle closed to each other in 312 when discussing the skateboard incident, in 504 when discussing Chim leaving, and Buck does hand Eddie the bottle closed during the coming out scene which is ultimately not about their relationship, although, Buck does hand the bottle while it's open to Eddie in 613, but they don't show Buck opening said bottle so I kinda think there's something to be said about the action of opening the bottle for the other in scenes they are opening up to each other about each other.

Something major about the scene is also the framing and positioning of them in the scene. I made a framing meta with most of their major scene at some point during the hiatus, you can read it here, but something about the 2 of them is that they tend to be on the same level while talking about Eddie's problems, they are both sitting down (that's even exemplified in 705 with the gym scene) and they seem to have Buck sitting down and Eddie standing up when talking about Buck's, so Buck is physically looking up at Eddie. I have an admittedly confusing post about Buck and the looking up thing you can read here because I touch on emotional scenes for Buck that don't involve Eddie if you want more thoughts.

The whole looking up thing is interesting for many many reasons, but mainly because, one, Buck is a big guy and Oliver is the tallest person in the main cast, so he's usually the biggest person in the room, so having him sitting down is a way to make him have less power in the scene in a sense. There's also the way that Buck as a character likes being in high places, he sits at the counter, the chills on top of the firetruck, he sleeps in a loft, he likes being physically high.

But there's also the way the show tends to give Buck the high ground during emotional scenes. Both figuratively, like having him stand up before yelling at his parents in 404 or having him be the only one standing up when he tells the team about Daniel in 405, and literally, like in 316 when he's talking to Maddie about being the one who's always left behind and breaking up with Taylor in 518.

It's also interesting because Buck mostly looks up his love interests, there are exceptions to this, he has scenes looking up at Bobby even though most of their heart to hearts they tend to be on the same level, both standing up or both sitting down, but he looks up at Taylor and Abby and Ali and Eddie and I think that plays into the way Buck wants love to fix him, so he doesn't want balance, he wants answers. But this is a problem when you think about it. Because that creates an emotional imbalance between Buck and Eddie. It physically exemplifies the way Buck's admiration of Eddie clouds his judgment when it comes to Eddie. He expects Eddie to have the answers. He blindly trusts Eddie and in a romantic setting, that's bad. Buck can't really expect Eddie to be right all the time or just accept anything Eddie decides, because then their relationship is unbalanced, then Eddie is controlling it and a romantic relationship can't work in these circumstances.

But this scene actually breaks that pattern twice: Eddie is looking up at Buck while they are talking about Marisol and Buck actually sits down before telling Eddie it was a date.

This is huge. Monumental. Incredible. I have been waiting for this for SO LONG. Because Buck needs reassurance from Eddie here, but he is not looking at Eddie for guidance, he's looking at Eddie for acceptance. And that's what he's getting. Proof of Eddie's unconditional love. And Eddie needs Buck to just tell him how to fix it while being very irrational about the whole situation and Buck is being the voice of reason.

Also about the positioning in the frame, something media does to let people know the characters are not standing on the same side, to give that impression that they are in different places in the scene during a close-up is to place the characters on different sides of the frame, even in the beginning of the scene, they are on different sides. (Guide down the middle to help visualizing)

But when they are actually talking about it, they are both in the middle of the frame. Another scene they do this is the will reveal, during the will reveal they tend to both be in the middle of the frame. And that kinda gives this idea that they are seeing eye to eye, that they are on the same side. I have a whole meta explaining how they used this effect to show Eddie letting Buck in during his breakdown era, you can read that one here.

BUT, interestingly enough, Eddie actually leans away from the middle when they are talking about Buck dating Tommy besides the general concept that that means Buck is also into men, while Buck stays in the middle. That can absolutely represent a way for Eddie to distance himself from it in a sense, that while he is fine with Buck being bi, he's not all that fine with the concept of Buck actually dating Tommy even though he is encouraging Buck to go after him, but that's just a theory to back me and my Eddie fell first and has accepted he can't have Buck tendencies. I think that's also backed by the way Eddie is maintaining eye contact from the moment he realizes this is something important for Buck, but he does break that eye contact when Buck tells him he can't stop thinking about Tommy, almost like he needs a second to believe what he's about to say.

Another interesting thing is the way they had Eddie ready to leave and Buck doing his little ducked head Eddie smile while Eddie leaves, so Buck seems fine with the way the conversation went, before having Eddie turn back around to hug Buck.

He reaches the door, realizes he's forgetting something, and strides right back to demand a hug, which considering 703 when we have Buck stopping to thank Tommy then running after Eddie, and Eddie being about to run back to Marisol and a relationship he doesn't really want to be in, the way he stops in his tracks to go back to Buck, kinda poetic when you think about this way, I think.

I think there's a lot to dissect when it comes to the actual wording of the scene too. Eddie saying "this doesn't change a thing between us" is very on purpose, if Eddie had said anything instead of a thing, it would have had a different effect. Not changing a thing when, one, we all know it will change it because buddie is coming, and two, even if we didn't know buddie is coming, this has the potential to fundamentally change the nature of their relationship eventually and the show loves to prove Eddie specifically wrong, but even then, would adding romance actually be changing anything between them when they are already life partners? This fundamentally changes them but also doesn't change them at all. Also the way Buck says "that's a relief" sounds almost as if he was expecting Eddie to say something else.

Also, love the way we got another roundabout way for Eddie to say he loves Buck but this time he actually said the word love "he'll love you like we all do" thank you, Eddie, for finally using the word.

Also love the way Buck is just taking deep breaths through the conversation because this was something that was stressing him out and it going well makes him breathe easier because he needs Eddie's acceptance in this.

I think these are all my thoughts on this scene, at least is all I can think about right now, so, as always, if you read this I love you 💜

[valhallavalgrace]

Favorite and least favorite activities, if you’re willing to share?

Also, did you learn anything about what’s going on with the new guy down the hall? Sure, you were supposed to stay out of it, but you’ve got to at least be a little curious, right?

LEO: *quiet guilty thoughts because he can't ask about if Loki is like Loki in the movies* *pretending to know anything about Norse mythology*

MAGNUS: *overthinking about Uncle Randolf and the Loki symbols* *forgetting that Norse demigods aren't the only demigods bc they still haven't talked about his Greek cousin*

prev ask

[north-wilkesboro-moonshine-cave]

congratulations to Mme. Pascale Leclerc, who has surely just experienced both the funniest and most unhinged weekend a mother could ever have. Dear fucking christ, I hope your middlest son brought you a bottle of champagne for yourself, ma'am.

[phagodyke]

the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Comedic Barnaby ask here again! I'm sorry, I meant your Modern Human au thingy, my bad lmao.

ohhh ok - was just informed that you probably mean comedian, which makes a lot more sense than what my mind was interpreting!

he does actually do little side gigs around comedy! he even got a degree in clowning, but his main job (at the "present day" part of the timeline) is bartending at the same queer club that Eddie does drag performances in! sometimes Barns will open a show etc with a lil' stand-up act, and when he can, he'll do other comedy-based stuff at local venues