#why is there like one interview with these two

[tangerinearchive]

warming up

franco colapinto x teammate!reader

summary: franco is determined to make his teammate feel better with the perfect warm sweater.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: franco is slightly obsessed with reader, not much franco x reader action but still cute! two mentions of ‘yn’, shameless and jealous franco.

You had seriously underestimated how cold Vegas would actually be. 

It seemed like everyone had warned you, ‘Bring sweaters, it will get cold’ they said, and yet you chose to ignore them. So your situation could’ve easily been avoided. 

You gazed at Liam Lawson from the other side of the paddock, wishing nothing more that you were in his position, wrapped up in a blanket sitting right next to a heater. 

You sighed, imagining what you would feel like if you were in his position, you were so focused that you didn't see or hear your teammate walk up behind you. 

Franco looked at you with a smile, although he frowned when he realized you weren’t giving him his desired attention, he followed your gaze over to Liam, who was in the middle of an interview. 

“What are we looking at?” he whispered in your ear, ignoring your slight jump. 

“Jesus Franco,” you muttered, trying to calm yourself, “Liam looks real warm right now.” 

Franco nodded, rolling his eyes slightly, “Yes. Because he had a blanket. Do you not see that?”

You gave him a look, “Of course, I see that. That is the whole point. I want to be warm.” 

Franco gave you a look over, keeping his eyes on your bare arms, where he could see the cold making your hair stand up, he smiled, “Ah. Are you cold?” 

“I can’t feel my fingers,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes forward, on Liam. 

Franco frowned, holding back on asking why exactly you didn't bring a sweater, his stomach felt nauseous at the sight of you gazing at Liam with so much want. 

Now, you weren’t exactly looking at Liam, more so his body temperature, but still, Franco would give anything to have you gaze at him. 

He gasped, his face brightening, if he got you a sweater, there was no way you would be staring at Liam like that, you would be staring at him like that. 

“I will be right back.” he spoke firmly, starting to back away, “Do not leave.” you watched him over your shoulder, giggling as he fumbled into a sprint. 

“No, too ugly…” Franco mumbled to himself as he threw the sweater behind him, he pulled another from his small driver’s room closet, “No, too blue…” He threw this one behind him as well. Not noticing it landed on his trainer. 

The man in question jumped in shock, pulling the Williams-style sweater off his head, “What the..” he mumbled, turning to Franco, who held up a knitted sweater, “Perfect..” he heard Franco whisper. 

The trainer stared briefly, watching Franco go back scavenging through his closet. The trainer could only roll his eyes before slowly walking out of the room. 

“I should get her two.” Franco whispered to himself, “In case she doesn’t like one of them..” he nodded to himself, continuing to throw sweaters he didnt deem fit behind him. 

After ten minutes of back and forth, Franco existed his driver’s room content, he was going to be your night and shining armor, and then you’ll look at Franco with all the love in the world because he was the one to get you warm and cozy.  

Just as he was going to make his way over to the media pen, where he had left you, he was pulled aside by your manager.

“(Y/N) was looking for you.” she informed him, Franco grumbled to himself, “I told her to stay in place, tonta.” (dummy) 

“She got cold.” The woman defended you, “You left her out there…she waited for ten minutes.”

Franco held up the two sweaters in his arm with a frown, “I got her sweaters, so she would not be cold.” 

Your manager eyes him with a smirk, “You spent ten minutes finding a sweater to give her?”

Franco shrugged, “I wanted to make sure they were warm.” 

The woman tilted her head, “You know we have a merch store full of sweaters, right?”

Franco turned to her in disgust, “Mierda, those sweaters are like this,” he held his thumb and index together, “They are not warm. They need to be warm.” (shit)

“So you are giving her your sweaters?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that will make her fall in love with you?”

Franco leaned back in offense, “I do not need to make her fall for me…” he paused, “She is already in love with me, she just does not know it yet.” 

The woman nodded with pursed lips, “Yeah because that’s a totally sane thing to say.”

Franco simply rolled his eyes, having had this conversation one too many times. So what if his obsession with you was just slightly worrying? It was all going to work out in the end, he just knew it. “Do you know where she went?” 

Your manager thought for a moment. “She mentioned being hungry, so she probably went up to eat.” 

And with that, Franco went off with a sprint. 

Out of breath, and slight sweating, Franco entered the Williams dining room, eyes sweeping over the place with quick eyes. Only to feel a rush of disappointment when he didn't spot you. 

He let out a deep disappointed sigh as he took a seat at the bar. The bartender watched him as he wallowed in pity. 

Franco continued to let out deep, soul-searching sighs, catching the attention of those around him, the bartender walked but to him with an awkward smile, sliding over a glass of water. 

“Hey Franco,” she started, he glanced up at her with a small smile, “You okay?” she whispered, leaning in, there were all different kinds of people around them, investors, fans, journalists, and no doubt searching for a bit of drama to hold onto, the last thing she wanted was for this interaction to be first-page news tomorrow morning. 

“No.” Franco was blunt, “Was (Y/N) here?” 

The lady nodded, “Yeah she just left actually. She got her usual–” 

“Hot chocolate, whipped cream, caramel drizzle.” the two coursed. 

The bartender leaned back, impressed, “You really know her.” 

Franco shrugged, “She’ll be my wife one day, I need to know what she likes.”

The lady laughed, “Oh yeah? Does she know that?”

Franco tilted his head, “No sé. I don't think it's a secret that I like her.” (I don't know.)

The woman agreed; this was not the first time she’d heard about Franco being in love with you. It seemed like every time he and she talked, he managed to somehow make the conversation about you. 

Now, she didn't know if the feelings were one-sided, the way you looked at Franco certainly made her think they weren't.

She hummed, “Well she took her hot chocolate to go, so I don't know where she went.”

Franco nodded, slowly moving off the chair, his sweaters both tightly secure in his clutch, “Okay then. If she comes back, tell her I'm looking for her.”

Franco was late to the fan stage, he had been so busy looking for you that he had lost track of time, and now he was being yelled at by his manager through the phone, demanding to know where he was. 

It took him two minutes to run from the garage to the fan stage, he was recorded who knows how many times, and he was no doubt trending right now. 

He had thrown the two sweaters in the arms of his manager when he arrived, wasting no time climbing the small steps up to the stage. 

What he saw made his stomach drop, there you were in all your glory, wearing no other than a…mclaren puffer jacket. And you were talking to no other than…Lando Norris. 

God, the smile on your face made Franco want to claw his eyes out, Lando had never been that funny. 

Franco ignored the fans yelling his name, instead he squeezed in between you and Lando, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Hello,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on you. 

Lando looked over at you with an amused smile before walking away, shaking his head slightly. 

“Hi?” you questioned, glancing over to the fan’s direction weary, thankfully they seemed to be paying attention to Lando and Oscar, the latter seemingly saying something funny. 

“I was looking for you.” 

You winced, “Sorry but I got really cold, and then I got really hungry…” 

Franco smiled softly, "It's okay…” he glanced down at your attire, “What are you wearing?” 

You broke out into a smile, “Do you like it? Lando gave it to me, he said I looked cold.” 

“I don't like it,” Franco stated simply, you leaned back, an offended look on your face. “Okay. Rude.” 

“It’s really ugly, “ he continued, “You should change.” 

You huffed, “I didn't bring any sweaters!” 

Franco held up a finger before moving away. You rolled your eyes, moving back to the others on stage. 

A couple minutes later you felt someone's presence behind you, you jumped slightly, feeling someone pulling on your jacket, looking back you saw Franco, a look on his face. 

“Take this off,” he mumbled, you glanced to his shoulder, where two knitted sweaters lay. “Porfa?” he pleaded, seeing the hesitation on your face. (please) 

Later that night, as the fan stage was wrapping up, Franco walked up to Lando, handing him the Mclaren jacket with a smile, “She didn't want it…” he muttered, “And she doesn't want you.” he added as an afterthought, shooting the Mclaren driver a smile before walking over to you. 

[transsexula]

We kinda stripped away all the community in our lives. We turned to the nuclear family model instead of relying on the metaphorical or literal villages around us to help us raise children.

Not only is it the sole responsibility of two people to care for children these days, but that's often reduced down to one single parent, either due to financial situations, or societal expectations, or just life happening.

Like- a "traditional" household us conservatives push for is a man who works outside of the home to provide for a wife and children. The caring for and raising of the children ends up being left mostly to the mother in this scenario.

Sometimes that happens not because the house is attempting to be traditional- but one parent may not be able to work shifts like the other does, so the other takes extra time at work, or takes on two or more jobs to provide while the other full time manages a house.

We have made families so small! It's frowned upon to live with parents. Grandma goes off to live at a facility and the hypothetical family sees her once a week or once a month because homes aren't built to have space to take in your elderly parents. Children get rushed out of the home at 18 or even earlier. There's so much sewn distrust in other adults- everyone is bad. Everyone is out to get you. Making friends with people outside of your generation is seen as weird and icky even when it's just. Healthy community bonds.

ALL OF THIS and the child is complete property of their parents. There's no community for them to fall back on when the parents fail. You're lucky if a sibling, grandparent, aunt or uncle can help when a parent has full control over you. It's truly frightening how few rights and protections children have from their own parents.

Like you said OP- we focus so tightly on the cycles of abuse. Instead of pulling away, and looking at the whole structure that holds it all in place. Why are we expecting parents to do it all by themselves? Why is the family unit so often shown as two parent with children? Why is the expectations of parents and family different than that of the community in general?

In reference to a short video I saw on YouTube from that one subway hot takes interviewer talking to the comedian Gianmarco: Why can't he hold the baby?

(I had to go and find a link to the short, because I really liked his point, even if his phrasing is a little odd)

sorry i woke up in my rantsona. but like seriously isn't it fucking twisted that every child in almost every country are basically legal property of their parents. like their parents have complete control over where they can go, who they can talk to, which words out of their mouth are truth or lies; they're allowed, encouraged even, to be the sole interface by which the child connects to everything else in this world. like isnt that extraordinary. like how is it a mystery to anyone that children are constantly dying under parental abuse or growing up into utterly dysfunctional traumatised adults. why are we talking about these nebulous narratives of "the unstoppable and nuanced cycle of abuse" instead of looking straight at the reality we've built specifically for this purpose

[wannabeschyulersister]

“What’s my middle name?”

Pedro’s smirk widened as he heard the responses to your question from his fellow cast members. They were all hilariously incorrect.

“You don’t have a middle name,” he replied confidently when they all gave up.

You turned your card over and showed what you wrote, “You are correct. I don’t have a middle name.”

Pedro wanted to wink at you since you had both discussed facts like this early on, but he was aware of the numerous eyes and cameras on you both.

During the press tour, the two of you had to be extremely cautious not to let the lingering glances or secret touches be revealed. It was incredibly challenging to maintain a distance from the man you loved so deeply.

“Next question, what Marvel movie did I have a minor role in?”

Pedro knew the answer before you finished asking the question. “You were in Captain America: The Winter Solider.”

“Correct,” you smiled.

Pedro scored more points with the last two questions you had. It surprised the others, but not you.

Next, it was Paul’s turn. You all got a few minutes for a break before the rest of the game. You asked one of the PAs where the bathroom was, and they pointed you in the right direction.

You entered the room and finished your business before exiting. Pedro stood alone in the hallway, waiting for you. A part of you sensed that he would follow you away from the others.

He extended his index finger to gesture you over, saying, “Come here.”

You eagerly complied. It felt like it had been too long since you last felt his embrace. It had just been a few hours and you were craving it. He drew you closer, and your lips met in a passionate kiss.

His lips moved to your neck and then right under your left ear, uttering, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve been sitting right next to you during all these interviews this morning,” you chuckled.

“I know,” he replied, “but I haven’t been able to touch you, kiss you, or do anything. It’s been torture.”

“Oh, you poor, baby,” you cooed.

Pedro tightened his grip on you once more before letting you go in case anyone made their way down the hall.

“We just have a couple more interviews, and then I’ll be yours.”

That made him smile. “I like the sound of that.”

You couldn’t help but kiss his cheek softly.

“I have an idea,” he blurted out.

“Uh oh,” you said jokingly.

“Why don’t we attend one of the premieres of the movie together, as a couple?” He appeared vulnerable in that moment, as if he was apprehensive about your response.

“Is that what you truly want?” you inquired. It had been nearly a year of hiding the relationship. He had been hinting for some time that he was ready for something more.

He nodded in agreement, “If we both agree, I wouldn’t want to force you into doing anything you’re not prepared for.”

You swiftly weighed your pros and cons. Undoubtedly, there were more pros.

You grabbed his hand and smiled, “Then I guess we better color coordinate our outfits.”

[willowpains]

Hiii can u maybe do something like Drew surprising Latina actress! Reader to her home town and him meeting her family? 💕

méxico lindo

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

“Mami, ¿porque mi puerta está-(Mom, why is my door-)” you stopped yourself from shouting to your mom as you opened the door to your room, revealing Drew, your boyfriend, with a bouquet of flowers and a huge smile on his face.

Your hands flew to your mouth in surprise, as you gasped, truly in shock.

Drew had just called you this morning, telling you how much he missed you, and how busy he was with doing press for Queer, his new movie.

How was he here, with you, in your bedroom?

“Hi baby” he said laughing softly, looking at you with small eyes due to his big smile almost covering his entire face.

You slowly drop your hands from your mouth, still in shock, as you watch him approach.

With eyes moving between him and the flowers in front of him, you accept them, slightly shaking as he engulfs you in a hug.

He chuckles as he presses a soft kiss at the top of your head.

You lean back a little, enough to be able to look at him, the shock and surprise slowly dying, making room for the excitement and happiness of having him in front of you.

“Que, como…(What, how…)” you barely let out, your brain not even allowing you to speak in English to him.

Drew lets out a chuckle throwing his head back at your reaction, capturing your lips in a deep kiss before explaining.

“I’m glad you were really surprised” he says as you walk to your dresser to place the flowers, and walking back to him just to jump into his arms.

He sighs in content as he catches you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he walks you both to your bed, sitting down with you on his lap.

“I still can’t believe you’re here” you said with a smile, your eyes gleaming up at him. “You lied to me, you said you were doing press!” you playfully hit him on the chest.

A laugh escapes of him, as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you.

“I have a few free days until the next round of press interviews” he explains, resting his hand on your leg. “And I missed you too much”.

You smile at him, reaching up to cradle his cheek as you press a kiss against his lips.

“I’m really happy you’re here” you say, breaking the kiss to look at him, softly caressing his cheek with your thumb.

He smiles, looking between your eyes and your lips.

“Me too” he lets out softly.

Your heart flutters as his eyes wander on your lips for a little longer.

“Was my mom behind all of this with you?” you ask, raising your brows up at him, as you throw your arms behind his neck, pulling him closer.

He chuckles, caressing your side.

“You know she loves me” he smirks playfully.

You push him fully on the bed until he falls back, smiling mischievously up at you.

“Oh yes, I know” you said as you leaned down, smiling dangerously at him.

Safe to say that was one of the best surprises he’s ever given you.

Drew had met your family back when you were filming season one.

Him and Madelyn had traveled with you to enjoy home for the few days of break you had.

And your family had absolutely loved him.

Your mom specifically.

Even when you still were just friends, she already treated him as if he was part of the family already.

And she never lets your forget how she always “felt” how you two were meant to be together.

Her instincts were always right, you had to give it to her.

“Ay Drew!” your mom shouts, standing up from the couch in excitement as she sees him, opening her arms ready to embrace him.

You giggle softly as he crouches down to hug your mom back.

“It’s nice to see you all again” he says, moving to greet your dad, who is happy to see him, but not as much as your mom.

Your dad shakes his hand after giving him a hug.

“Es bueno verte hijo (Is good to see you son)” he says as he pats him on the back.

A smile appears on your face as you hear your dad’s words.

He loved speaking spanish to him, he liked to feel a little in control with your boyfriend.

“Hey Drew” your younger brother lets out, walking out of the kitchen and greeting him happily.

They both get into a conversation about a video game Drew had recommended him, making you smile.

Your mom walks up to you, taking you in her arms, giving you a hug.

“You liked the surprise?” she asks, smiling brightly at you.

You nod happily, giving her a kiss on the cheek, making an exaggerated kiss sound.

“I loved it, thank you so much mami, I’m really happy” you say, giving her another hug.

She sighs, leaving a kiss on your temple, and leaning her head against yours.

The both of you watch Drew and your dad talking, while your brother listens attentively.

“Me encanta verte feliz mi niña (I love seeing you happy my girl)” she says, as she squeezes you a little between her arms.

You smile at her words.

“Sin presiones (No pressure)” she pauses, looking down at you. “Pero yo siento que el es el bueno (But I feel like he’s the one)” she lets out with a smile.

Your heart starts pounding harder in your chest at her words.

You had thought about that many times.

Him being it for you.

“Eso espero (I hope so)” you murmur, your eyes lost watching Drew smiling and laughing in your couch, with your family, in your space.

Being part of your life.

In your mind, you were already planning everything you were going to be doing while he visited.

All the new spots you had to show him, experiences you wanted to share, and all the time you would be spending together.

A smile appeared on your face.

Your family meant the world to you.

As well as Drew.

What would you do without them?

You were really grateful your family liked him.

Loved him, just as much as you did.

Because it just felt right every time you were all together.

He fitted right in, like he was always supposed to be part of you all.

And you couldn’t be more happy.

*

thank you so much for you request! I absolutely loved the ideaaa, and I hope you liked it<3

already working on a moodboard for this concept, I’m obsessed

I feel like I might start writing little blurbs and short concepts with different ideas, sometimes I feel like it needs to be this huge story for people to get into it, but short blurbs are also fun right?

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hi.. don't know if you do part 2 but if you do.. can you like write a sequel to curling iron where fans are really eager to know why the girls call him "curling iron" so they lando during signing and meet and greet but he just shakes his head and diverts the topic till during one of quadrant video, max f asks lando what's the curling iron as everyone is asking so lando tells him (while they were recording) and when interview is released media goes crazy.. maybe little SMAU too.. thankyou and sorry if this is too complex.. xoxo

Curling Iron pt. 2 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

⌗ ln x reader 🦋⃟

⌗ fluff + humour (?) 🦋⃟

masterlist ☾☼

curling iron pt.1

lily and carmen's comment on her last instagram post blew up. while everyone in the inner circle only referred to lando as curling iron, none of the fans had any idea what it meant.

some speculated that lando doesn't actually have curly hair, and used a curling iron everyday. that became a joke amongst all of lando and y/n's friends. some speculated that lando just did something stupid, and it was a running joke between the 2019 rookies and their friends.

y/n did kind of agree with that, since she was the something stupid he did. when she'd said that out loud, not meaning for anyone else to hear her, lando had laughed and then pulled her to the bedroom to do her again.

the las vegas grad prix had organised a little meet and greet, where fans could come and meet the drivers, take pictures, just chat for a minute or two. lando loved doing such things. it always made him feel a lot closer to his fans, and he got to meet genuine people.

it was inevitable really that the question would come up. lando should have expected it, but he hadn't been prepared.

a group of girls were at his table, where he was seated, and signing all the things they gave him. one of them had the courage and finally asked him, "can we ask you something?"

"of course," lando was more than happy to answer any question.

"um, why is your nickname 'curling iron'? george and alex mentioned it in the compliments video too,"

george sitting at the next table burst out laughing, and lando muttered a small, "shut the fuck up," as he smiled and tried to answer.

"i just did some...thing. it was just like, a little joke between us." lando stammered.

"say it, say it, say it!" george was chanting from the table beside him.

lando threw a pen at his friend, "shut up!"

turning back to the girls, he quoted his girlfriend, "i just did something stupid, and that became a nickname. it's not anything important, really,"

he diverted the topic quickly, talking about the mini helmet that the girl had given him to sign.

the teasing hadn't stopped, on social media and otherwise. george, alex, lily, carmen, and his own girlfriend had officially renamed him as 'curling iron'.

during one of the williams video that alex participated in, the question of how close the 2019 rookies were, and how their relationship had changed over the years.

alex, the ever smiling man, said, "no no, i think we're all going really strong. like, we're amazing friends off track. we're hanging out all the time, and just sending each other memes and stuff. and, like, our girlfriends also get along really well."

"we take it george has a group chat for that as well?" the interviewer asked.

alex laughed, "we actually do! it's us three and our girlfriends. and, in the beginning, the girls sent in a lot of links to edits of like george and me, george and lando, or lando and me. i mean, they still do, but like, because of that, the group chat is called, um, 'curling iron's harem,"

the interviewer begged him to explain further, but alex laughed and diverted the topic, like they were all trained to do.

the fans went wild after williams posted that video on instagram. new edits of george, alex, and lando began trending, everyone leaning into the 'curling iron's harem' thing.

y/n, carmen, and lily had a field day with it, and sent in edits constantly. the boys had decided to then rate each edits that were sent in, because what else could they do.

the truth was revealed after the season got over though, when max and lando were streaming.

the chat was filled with people asking what 'curling iron' meant, and every time max read out the question, the two men couldn't stop laughing. they couldn't stop giggling.

"alright, alright. it was after one of the races, i made out with my girlfriend, left a hickey on her neck. carmen and lily noticed it, my girl said it was because of a curling iron-"

"very obvious lie, by the way,"

"yeah, and then i walked in after the interviews or something, and lily and carmen just started calling me 'curling iron' ever since,"

max was laughing, unable to stop.

"shut up, it's not that funny!" lando said, laughing as well.

"yeah, it is!" a distant voice was heard from lando.

"baby, you have to be on my side!" he whined to his girlfriend.

"aw, my poor curling iron," she cooed mockingly.

max only laughed harder.

"fuck off, all of you."

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

hi! sorry, this was kinda short. i never really planned to make a part 2 for this. but, i hope you enjoyed this! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou; @anamiad00msday

[tavolgisvist]

That evening in the dressing-room of the cinema at York two girls came in and asked to interview them. They said they wanted the interview so they could make a tape of it for a third girl who was ill in hospital. John sat in a corner away from the group. ‘It’s probably just an excuse to get into our dressing-room,’ he says. ‘Anyway women should be obscene and not heard.’ ‘Switch it on now,’ says Paul conducting the interview for the bewildered girls. ‘What’s your name?’ he asks Ringo. ‘John’, says Ringo. He then asks the girls their names. ‘How did you like Germany when you were there?’ asks the girl whose name is Eileen. ‘We liked it fine,’ says Paul. ‘It was hard work,’ says Ringo. ‘Yeah’, says George. All during the interview they sign autograph books that had been sent to their dressing-room, and when they aren’t actually answering a question they read letters from fans. The girls walk over to John. ‘How do you write the songs ?’ says the girl whose name is Daphne. John doesn’t answer. Paul shouts across the room in a voice you use to an errant child, ‘Tell us about the songs, John, tell us about the songs.’ ‘Sometimes we write them together’, says John. ‘Sometimes not. Some of them take four hours; some twenty minutes. Others have been known to take as long as three weeks.’ ‘What’s your favourite song that you’ve written?’ ‘I think “Glad All Over”,’ says Paul, opening his eyes even wider. ‘No, I’m kidding. I think at the moment it’s our new record “I want to hold your hand”. Is that all right ?’ ‘Yes, that’s fine,’ says Eileen. ‘Thank you very much indeed.’ ‘Oh dear,’ says Daphne. ‘It doesn’t seem to have been recording. Sorry about that.’ <…> Inside, the compere is asking: ‘Do you want to see John?’ (Screams.) ‘George?’ (Screams.) ‘Paul?’ (Screams.) ‘Ringo?’ (Pandemonium.) They appear, and all during their act a man in a dinner jacket stands in front of the stage looking bewildered. The girls wave, hold up pictures, and scream. <…> Paul runs off stage shouting, ‘Oh my God, my ulcer. Nell, do you have a ciggy?’ Aspinall alternately hands him a cigarette and leads him toward the stage door where their car is waiting to take them to the hotel. <…>

The Beatles are in their hotel bedrooms finishing their dinners. George feels tired and goes to sleep. John, wearing a T-shirt and an old pair of trousers, wanders down the hallway past the guard, into the room shared by Paul and Ringo. The table filled with the empty dinner dishes is at the foot of Ringo’s bed. Ringo, dressed in pyjamas, is sitting up in bed. Paul, also in pyjamas, is talking about a film, The Trial, which he has just seen in London. He is describing a scene in which there is a misunderstanding about a word, when the telephone rings. ‘Hello, helloho,’ says Paul in a falsetto and then, realizing it is a friend, says Hello seriously. <…> ‘What I liked best in The Trial’, he says, ‘was when they walked quietly through the concentration camp. It was so dead quiet, just like another world and Elsa Martinelli in the background just necking like mad.’ <…> ‘Uh, I need another drink, baby,’ says John. Paul goes to the phone. ‘Hello? Yeah, send us six single Scotches - No, make it doubles, yeah, doubles.’ <…> They started discussing the feelings of adults towards pop music. ‘We’re definitely fighting a prejudice,’ says John. ‘That’s why I’m interested in John getting his book out,’ says Paul. ‘I mean, I haven’t got a cut or anything. It’s just that one of us would be doing something to make people notice. I mean, it’s the same as if one of us wrote a musical. People would get rid of their prejudice and stop thinking that pop people can only sing or go into a dance routine.’ <…> ‘You remember after that big spate of publicity we got in the national papers,’ says John, ‘which was uncalled for by our office. We were news at the time, and it only just happened we clicked in fourteen editors’ minds at the same time. One day Paul was ill and I believe one of the papers wanted a picture of him. Nell told them they couldn’t have it, and the photographer said: “You mean, after all the publicity we gave them – we made them.” I’d like to meet this fella who said it.’ Paul explained that they never talk to the teenage magazines. ‘They just make it up. I think they prefer it that way…’

(Love Me Do. The Beatles Progress by Michael Braun, 1963/1995)

Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI), (VII), (VIII)

(+ about Paul's flue)

[theladyofrosewater]

On one hand would I have killed to see ace rep in the show itself? yes yes I would have because we are sorely lacking in ace rep in most media's.

on the other hand asexuality is different from being aromantic and it's clear christian linke just doesn't want the ship to be encouraged and so picked the character in the ship who hadn't been portrayed as having a sexual/romantic relationship with anyone, it's just that said character also happens to have most of the traits that stereotype ace characters had so it cheapens the decision in the writing by a lot

Like I feel like at least half of the cast being confirmed as ace would have been better rep. You could have had it be Mel and then showcase her seduction of Jayce being something she doesn't at all give a shit about sex besides using as a tool for furthering her power until she realizes she caught feels. You could have had it be Vi and have it so she feels like that's why she has a tough time connecting with people and maybe have her tell Caitlyn in a heartfelt scene. Hell you could have made it Ekko and have had a mention of it in season two episode 7 where Powder says she'll always love and respect Ekko's boundaries. There is nothing wrong with Viktor being ace if the writers had set out to actually make him ace rep, however the only thing that even hints at Viktor being ace is him saying no to walking home with Sky and that could very easily be read as Viktor is just distracted with his work or Viktor just not being interested in women. Viktor being "confirmed" ace by one of the writers in an out of media interview out of what seems to be a dislike of a popular queer ship leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

and can I just say I'm kinda sick and tired of asexual characters being almost exclusively confirmed as ace through tweets and outside of the source material, like if the higher ups were preventing representation and the only way to announce it was a blog post that's one thing but when most characters only have their asexualty revealed as an afterthought it's really disheartening like how bad of a writing team do you have to be that hazbin hotel of all medias does a better job of explicitly showcasing a character as asexual than arcane does.

(suggestive warning)

viktor being confirmed to be asexual but only because christian linke despises the idea of jayvik being inherently sexual or just romantic for that matter is just so disheartening

im so sick of disabled people just being viewed as undesirable and unable to have sex in comparison to characters like jayce. and to see this type of stereotype being placed on a character i align myself with heavily is just so devastating

[howlingday]

Pyrrha: (On the couch) No... No... Oh! What about this one?

Jaune: What's it about?

Pyrrha: It's about a company in a place called Texas and they play video games, and make shows, and sell merch, and even have their own convention!

Jaune: That sounds exciting!

Pyrrha: It isn't!

Mama Nikos: (Upstairs) Pyrrha! I heard a boy down there!

Pyrrha: Yeah, mom! Jaune's over!

Mama Nikos: Is he a burglar?!

Pyrrha: He's my boyfriend! We're watching TV!

Mama Nikos: No shows about burglars!

Pyrrha: Yes, mom!

Mama Nikos: And keep your door open! No funny business!

Pyrrha: Okay, mom!

Pyrrha: ...So, uh, do you wanna watch the second part of the Weiss Schnee interview?

Jaune: I dunno. She was kinda the love of my life for, like, five years, but it wasn't really about love or us having anything in common. I just stumbled into her house one night.

Pyrrha: Do you ever get tired of living at the mercy of other people?

Jaune: What do you mean?

Pyrrha: Well, why don't you get your own place? You sister doesn't need a babysitter anymore.

Jaune: Yeah, but... I think I'd get lonely.

Pyrrha: But... what if you had your own place, AND you lived there with someone?

Jaune: What, like a roommate?

Pyrrha: Or a girlfriend?

Jaune: Um, heh heh, Pyrrha? YOU'RE my girlfriend! What am I supposed to do? Get a SECOND girlfriend just to live with me?

Pyrrha: No, but-

Jaune: And besides; you're one to talk! You're still living with your mom!

Pyrrha: Yeah, I-

Jaune: So why don't you get your own place?

Pyrrha: That's what I was-

Jaune: OH! Hold on! I just had a great idea!

Pyrrha: Really? I had one, too!

Jaune: Okay! We'll say our ideas at the same time! One... Two... Three!

Jaune: Werewolf knights!

Pyrrha: Sports-drink-flavored-sports-drink!

Pyrrha: Also, we should move in together.

Jaune: Oh... That's a way better idea.

[cardigan-ns]

Rich Man’s World

Pairing: Declan O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were the new camera woman at Corinium studios, and after one too many guests make comments about you, Declan snaps.

Note: Reader is 21. And all the men in this story are fictional.

“Right, silence we’re live in 3…2…1…” You thumb’s upped Declan as you kept your eye on the feed the camera was getting. You were on the ground floor filming him this very Saturday at 8pm, as you do every weekend for the past 2 months since you both started this job. He was charismatic, never made a mistake with the cue cards, always argumentative with his guest, the man did his research. You were enamoured by him with every time he made eye contact with the camera, or he approached you in the halls, he was casual, like any co-worker would be, but you were mush in his hands.

Tonight his guest was a known Director, Quinn Williamson, you couldn’t give two shits about him, you were more focused on your constant muse, as he laughed and questioned his guest. You looked up at the watchtower for a second while Seb gave you a thumbs up, and Tony just glared at you, like you came with the camera when they shipped it from America. Only they didn’t, and you’ve just graduated from London university. But Tony didn’t care, not in the slightest. You signalled 3…2…1 to Declan to alert him the break was coming up and the cameras were about to run ads. “We’ll see how many more behind the scenes laughs we have from Mister Williamson after the break.”

The makeup artists went over to the freshly questioned director and you walked towards the tea and coffee table, needing some energy, unknown that Declan had the exact same idea as you. “You know, you’re getting better every week.” He spoke in his thick Irish accent which broke you from your daze of stirring the wooden stick in the cheap styrofoam cup, while you melted your instant coffee. “It’s a much better improvement from me cursing live on air, mid you interviewing the biggest astronaut in the world.” You got flustered, never living it down, it woke you up most nights from the sheer pain it brought your nervous system.

It only made Declan laugh to himself, “Well we’ve had no accidents live on air since, and I know it’ll keep that way.” He nudged you, as he leaned across from you to grab a custard crème from the tray of biscuits. “Come on, give yourself the credit.” He gave a small smile, half covered by his moustache, he then bit into the biscuit and you added the milk to the coffee. “I am, just better not to boast about it.” You toast your cup in the air as a thanks for being so kind and you stood behind the camera again, zooming it out so it’ll be back to normal for when it’s back on air.

Whilst Declan sat back on his chair and brushed away biscuit crumbs from his tie, Williamson leant over and nudged Declan, “She’s a right tap isn’t she?” If only you could see the distasteful glare Declan gave the man, how dare he speak about you in such a way, like you’re piece of meat, and expect him to agree? Oh he was livid. “I’ll have you know that she is a human being, working. Be respectful before I ask you to leave, Quinn. Wouldn’t want your fans knowing how much of a perv you are, would we?” The director shut his mouth then and there and you’d began to question why the remainder of the show was so hostile, you’d just assumed Declan had some dirt on him that he was saving for later but nothing ever happened.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The following Saturday the same thing happened, this time you were leaning over to pick up a script you’d dropped in the hallway, and Declan was walking with his new guest, Local Busker Randy Yovak, for his heartwarming claim to local fame. And he nudged Declan as Randy seemed to notice your skirt rise up as you pick up the fallen piece of paper, “fucking Christ.” This caused Declan to ignore Randy for a second and follow you as you retreated down the hall. “Darlin’” he spoke softly, causing you to turn around with a smile. “Yeah?” You asked unaware of the comments tonight’s guest made on you. “Could you work on camera number 5 tonight? It’ll give you some more experience with the newer editions.” You figured he was watching out for your skills for the different camera’s the set had, not that he was basically keeping you out of sight from Randy, so he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. “Sure thing, I’ll let you know how I found it once we’ve wrapped the episode.” You nod and walk away from him, taking the conversation as nothing but a kind suggestion.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

And again, it happened while Declan was showing a possible new errand boy around the building, as an induction. Declan introduced you to him, seeing as he could be helping you sometimes, you shook the errand boys hand and exchanged a few words. After a while he’d then ran to the bathroom. “What do you think of the lad?” Declan asked, seeking whether or not you approved of the chap, that’s all he cared about, his arms crossed. You set the files on the counter and tilted your head as the guy walked away. “He’s the guy I told you about, the one that followed me home on the bus yesterday.” Declan stood there for a moment before pointing a finger at you as to say ‘one moment’ before he himself retreated down the hall.

He came back and his gelled hair was now messy with curls poking out left right and centre. “Did you fall?” You asked with a small laugh at his frustrated face. “Something like that.” He nodded assuredly, “That boy isn’t gonna work here anymore.” He walked off with a chip on his shoulder, did no fucking man have any decency anymore, it fucking angered him beyond repair.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Tonight was Declan’s big night, he had his idol on the show, someone he admired more than anyone, he was nervous all week about it, begging you to get his good angles on camera 2. Which caused you to laugh and promise him that. “Here’s to no mistakes.” He put his hand up to high five you, that’s been your motto ever since you did fuck up live on air. And ever since, the mantras worked. “Here’s to no mistakes.” You laugh as you clasp your hand with his and run to your camera as your guest walked in, An Irish singer, who flew over here because he’s such a big fan of Declan and Declan has requested he be on the show 8 separate times. Samson O’Connell. Declan looked over at you. Only you somehow knew of his school-boy excitement, he gave his charming smile then shook his guests hand. You turned round to the audience and handed them the small basket of sweets you were told to pass around before the show went live.

Around 20 minutes later the show came back from break and you were concentrated behind the camera, slowly zooming into Declan as he began to ask Samson a question. “So, Mister O’Connell, there’s been rumours of romance in the air, do you happen to be seeing anyone?” Declan spoke and you turned the camera to Samson and he was already looking in the direction of the camera, causing you to slightly jump when it landed on his face, causing Samson to give a weird smile, and Declan giving a confused one. “When I’m done this interview I will have.” Samson said like a predator catching its prey, you felt physically revolted and uncomfortable, you began to fix your dress or anything so he’d look away. Declan didn’t like that, he didn’t like the look of weariness on your face and after all this time he finally snapped, for a second forgetting he was on live television, leapt over and sucker punched Samson right in the face. Causing him to fall backwards on his chair and Declan stood there heavy breathing. “You ever look at her like that again, I’ll fucking kill ‘ya!” He spoke loudly and harshly, pointing his finger down to Samson as he laid there, his face bruised and bleeding. Declan stormed off set, and behind the camera where you stood, frozen.

“Come on, love. Let me get you out of here.” You stumbled, as you looked up at Declan’s angered face, as he gently spoke to you, the contrast making you know he wouldn’t hurt you but flattered that he defended you, even if his career was on the line and even though he decked his idol, none of that he cared about, he just cared about you and your safety.

His hand never left yours, the touch was light and loose but it showed he was here, he didn’t want to further your anxiousness by touching your shoulder or waist, so a light graze on the palm was good enough for him. And even though you could barely feel the lingering touch of his fingertips, it made you feel more secure than if he’d given you a bear hug. He was a gentle man.

He led you into the cafeteria, and pulled a chair out for you to sit down and he poured some coffee into a cup for you, adding a sugar and a drop of milk just how you liked it. He’d known that from the countless times he’d caught himself observing you doing so. “Drink up, keep you warm.” He gave a small smile as he sat beside you, rubbing your back. You seemed to calm in his presence. “What he did was disgusting. And best believe, I’m taking a break from the show for a while.” He sighed as he saw your heartbroken face gaze up at him. “Declan, you can’t do that.” You spoke softly, almost above a whisper, and he raised his brow, “I’m not encouraging Corinium’s behaviour, they let anyone walk in here. Anyone with fucking gumption. It’s despicable. I’m not standing for it.” His face contorted to one of helplessness, he’s doing all he can and it’s still happening. No matter the 4 separate times he’s went to Tony and Cameron complaining about the employers in this establishment.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he removed his touch from your back and he toyed with the sugar shaker, as a form of distracting himself from running out of there and giving Samson another few digs in the groin. You watched Declan’s hand move the shaker in a circular motion, and you fumbled your coffee as you drank it. “Yeah, I am. I’m just disappointed we made another mistake on television.” She wanted to forget the comment Samson made, and wanted to fill her brain with happiness, and she knew how to do that, by talking with Declan about their pact. “Christ, love I’m sorry.” He put a hand to his forehead with a smile. “I fucked up our arrangement didn’t I?” You laughed as he genuinely looked hurt that you’d have to start over the well crafted streak.

“It’s okay, we have plenty more live shows ahead of us. Just bring on a few more women next time, yeah?” You nudged him and he laughed and nodded.

“I will. Starting with you.” He moved a stray hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear, he then noticed the bewilderment on your face at the mention of you in-front of the camera.

“We have so many laughs to tell, I’m sure everyone’s dying to see who makes my show as good as they are.” Your smile lifted his spirits and he knew what he was doing this for, to see your happiness and spark.

“Come on, I’ll leave you home.”

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Re-skimmed through a bunch of Dune Messiah last night because why not and now I am having thoughts:

The thing that sticks with me most is the tone. It's melancholy, it's eerie, it's unsettled and weird. Cannot think of a more pitch-perfect director for it than Denis Villeneuve. He's gonna nail it.

There is...not that much...actual story? Denis has referred to it in interviews as "a small book" and I'm like my guy it is 350 pages. But there are actually not that many plot beats. It's just that every. single. scene. is WILDLY overwritten. The real challenge of adapting Dune is not the giant worms or the dense complicated worldbuilding or the fact that actors have to say the name "Duncan Idaho" repeatedly with a straight face. It's that there are pages and pages and PAGES of internal monologue that have to be externalized somehow for film.

After a re-skim my gut instinct for "how much story goes in a feature film" is that if you just wrote out the dialogue and action that happens in every scene in the book in screenplay format you'd end up with...maybe about an hour of material? Which is great, actually, because it means there is room to add stuff. Like a whole new independent plotline for Chani if they decide to do that.

It may seem insane to add things to an adaptation of what's notoriously one of the wordiest series in classic sci-fi but it's worth remembering that they added quite a bit to Dune Part Two. Most of the first hour of the movie--almost everything before the worm ride except for Jessica drinking the Water of Life--is stuff that isn't in the book. And it's the best part of the movie essential to making the movie work as well as it does. Yes, they also cut elements from both parts (the dinner scene, the whole plotline where Gurney thinks Jessica is a Harkonnen spy, Thufir Hawat's fate, Leto II the Elder, murder toddler Alia) but I understand why each of those elements was cut or changed in the service of cinematic storytelling.

There's an interview (can't remember which one) with Jon Spaihts, the other co-writer of the scripts along with Denis, where he talks about how Dune is like a stage play, with so many of what would be the big action set pieces happening off-page. I kept thinking about that comparison while reviewing Dune Messiah because in addition to the scenes that do exist being wordy and internal as fuck, an absolutely insane list of major events/reveals/emotionally significant moments happen off-page. The list of things that we don't actually see in the main action of the story, that we're only told about after they happen, includes:

Chani finding out Irulan has been secretly dosing her with birth control for YEARS

People trying to capture a sandworm and take it off planet

Chani and Paul finding out Chani is pregnant after 12 years of trying to conceive

Paul flying an ornithopter carrying his extremely-about-to-go-into-labor partner while blind

CHANI DYING (first time reading I did NOT know this was coming and damn near threw my Kindle across the room at the way the information was delivered)

Alia executing a bunch of people including a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother

Paul walking into the desert at the end

You could add all these moments into a scene-for-scene film adaptation of the book and probably still have room to add more material.

The other thing that jumps out is that Paul doesn't really...govern...much. Like there's this whole subgenre of post-Dune/Dune Messiah-era fic that's just some combination of Paul, Chani, Irulan and sometimes Feyd traipsing around the palace having feelings while vague politics happens in the background, but I forgot that Dune Messiah is actually kinda like that??

There is a whole thread of Paul feeling kind of abstractly bad about being Space Hitler but he does not, in fact, actually do anything about it. And like yes both bureaucracies and religious movements can grow to have a life of their own that seems beyond the control of any one person. But also my dude you are the Emperor of the Known Universe. Someone is signing those space checks for the Endless War budget. You are not powerless here.

The one thing that really, clearly drives Paul to actively do things in the plot is not feeling guilty about having unleashed catastrophic religious war on the universe. It is protecting his family. Chani, Alia, his unborn children, and you could probably throw in Duncan by the end. That is what motivates him to act at key moments, and to want to hold on to power. And hey, y'know, if I'd experienced almost everyone I'd ever known getting murdered in a single night, I would probably get a bit intense about that too! It makes sense from a character point of view!

I'm very curious to see how these threads interweave with each other in the film, because the Villeneuve films put a lot of emphasis on Paul's agency and the fact that he may be constrained by shitty circumstances thousands of years in the making, but he still makes choices within that context. I can't see the narrative allowing film!Paul to get away with the same Poor Little Dictator routine as in the book. There are a few ways they could play this but I think the most interesting one is kinda the way they started going at the end of Part Two. Which is that as soon as you start reaching for that kind of power, then power becomes its own end and you will end up doing increasingly horrific things to maintain it. I think it would be quite interesting if the film shows us Paul not just being like "woe is me" but actively choosing to make the world worse because his trauma-driven fear of losing the people he loves makes him cling ever more desperately to power for its own sake.

If they went this route I think it would make Paul's decision at the end hit even harder. FWIW I actually really like Paul walking off into the desert at the end of the book. I think it brings things full circle with his relationship to the Fremen and creates this beautiful arc going back to the duel with Jamis. He first won a place among the Fremen through respecting their customs even though he really did not want to fight and kill someone he had no beef with. And by respecting the Fremen custom of the blind walking off into the desert, he proves himself to be fully Fremen and protects his children not by making them heirs to the throne but by making them Fremen.

And yeah, to a modern audience here on Earth it can look like "Paul conveniently fucks off and doesn't have to raise his newly-motherless children." And we can have a whole discussion about the unexamined ableism of the idea of someone who's gone blind voluntarily choosing death so as to "not be a burden" on their community. But neither of those readings is really the point here. Within the logic of Fremen cultural values, where the survival of the group as a whole is more important than the life of any one individual ("your water belongs to the tribe" etc.) Paul's choice is a willing and intentional self-sacrifice (see also: fedaykin) that wins him huge respect. There's a line in the book about Paul that's like "He would be one of them forever now" and damn if that didn't give me shivers. Like!! The political-symbolic implications!!! Which maybe I'm particularly attuned to because I just wrote a whole fic about what does it mean for an outsider to become Fremen but hmm something something Paul's final* act not being an exercise of Imperial power but an expression of kinship with an oppressed group and that being the thing that's needed to keep his family safe even if he is not physically present with them...IT IS RICH SYMBOLIC TERRITORY.

(*Yes yes I know about events in the next book. Shush.)

This kind of stuff is why I tend to think Chani may start out in a very different place in the story but the end will still be pretty close to what's in the book. It's too thematically powerful and tragic to go any other way.

But also...if they change things around enough that she is still alive at the end of the movie...I won't be sad about it.

[kaoskuantico]

I'll answer by parts:

she was reclaiming that space

That's a weird statement and you're just repeating what the writers said just because they said so. First of all, they didn't address Vi's trauma at all, and maybe it's just me but doing it with sex is a weird way of doing it.

jinx literally told her to

That felt OOC, even at her lowest point. As Vi said, Jinx saved Caitlyn's life despite her not willing to do the same. So Caitlyn thanked her by keeping Jinx in that ISOLATED cell? She said other people took her in before she got the chance to react. Okay, BUT I have two points about this.

Why didn't Caitlyn free her after the shock?

WHO took Jinx? In the battlefield it were only Cait and Ambessa's army, and the latter stayed with Ambessa to bury the dead. So...Who?

“it wasnt the time or place” ok so then what is the time or place?

Maybe...Not in Jinx's cell? Not right after Jinx told Vi she was going to "break the cycle"? Vi already knows or should know her sister is suicidal, in the first Act she saw it firsthand. And all this without having a proper conversation between Vi and Caitlyn, not even an apology for what happened in Act I, not for making her lose her father, permanently now. Cait was manipulated but she still played a crucial role in all of that.

Amanda said it herself, it was meaningful for Vi to free herself or her trauma related to being locked up both physically and mentally

The writers can say whatever they want, but as I said in another post (click), they can't do X in the show and say Z in interviews, that's just bad writing on their part. If they wanted to make Vi reclaim her trauma in that way, they should've dedicated time to it, not making up things AFTER the show ended. They lost the opportunity to show it.

yall just wanna take ANYTHING away from lesbians i swear

The only ships I like are wlw so this doesn't even apply to me. And for other personal reasons.

they barely got any screentime this season after the writers built up their relationship and arc SO MUCH in season 1 can we just have this one thing….

Whose fault is it? You said it yourself. They didn't develop their relationship properly. They fight, they suddenly are okay, they have another small fight and then suddenly have sex in her suicidal sister's cell.

even just IN the show stop blaming the characters for being horny in a weird place like their lives are MESSY and so is their relationship, they both went through hell especially vi, let them have this.

I still think it's weird. All I'm asking is have the same scene but in a bedroom??? After the war at least????? Just change the time and place and we're all good.

but it was so powerful how quickly Vi understood that Cait was on her side and supported her choices

Look, when Caitlyn pulled away the first time I thought "good, she's realizing Vi isn't in the right state of mind, they'll talk things through" and then Vi just says she doesn't fucking care.

Such a wasted opportunity to make them TALK and repair their relationship. Vi called her out once and all Cait said is "I know". Okay girl, we know you know, but that doesn't erase anything you and Ambessa did.

All of this can be summarized as "Amanda said it!", but if Amanda (and the other writers) failed to show it to the audience, that's their problem. They can't fix it with interviews.

can yall stop saying caitlyn came in the cell to f ck with vi like VI INITIATED IT😭 she was reclaiming that space she was finally letting herself be happy, like jinx literally told her to

“it wasnt the time or place” ok so then what is the time or place? their city is at war lmfao they just indulged in this for a very short time (the scene was only 2:28 btw.) and they deserved to, the place isnt as weird as yall make it to be, Amanda said it herself, it was meaningful for Vi to free herself or her trauma related to being locked up both physically and mentally

yall just wanna take ANYTHING away from lesbians i swear😭 they barely got any screentime this season after the writers built up their relationship and arc SO MUCH in season 1 can we just have this one thing…. even just IN the show stop blaming the characters for being horny in a weird place like their lives are MESSY and so is their relationship, they both went through hell especially vi, let them have this.

that being said i still do believe the scene would’ve carried a little more weight even with a few more lines of them talking about it all, or even caitlyn just saying “you didn’t lose me” before rizzing her up lol but it was so powerful how quickly Vi understood that Cait was on her side and supported her choices

[derww]

DEVOTIONS WEEK DAY 6: FRIENDLY/PARANOIA

– Listen, – Spoke begins, sitting with his legs apart and leaning on them, on a block of netherite in the middle of the dupe vault, – I know that I've been acting strangely lately, right?

– That's not the right word,– Mapicc grumbles – he stands leaning against a wall of beacons, arms crossed, – a little more, and you would have completely switched to riddles.

– I know, I know, I'm sorry, – Spoke raises his hands, showing that he gives up, – I thought to keep everything to myself – here, you know, such a delicate matter, anyone can break everything, – he hesitates, – but then I realized that the simplest way to get you in my way is to keep you in the dark.

– I wish I could say you're wrong, – Zam stammers, – but you're probably completely right. To be honest, I've been very worried about you these last few days, all you've been doing is saying mystical phrases and refusing to clarify, I already thought that you were betraying us.

– Fair enough,– Spoke nods, – I'll tell you. But this has to stay just between the three of us. No one else has to find out; otherwise, everything will be at risk. Do you understand?

– What about Ro, – Mapicc interrupts, – even he can't know?

– He can't. Neither Roshambogames, nor TheTerrain, nor Vortexdragon. Just the two of you. It should be a secret from everyone. I can only tell you two.

Mapicc gives him a dark look and shakes his head – suspects, does not believe – but does not continue.

Zam looks at him from under his brows. Even now, holding on to different walls, he and Mapicc feel like one team, – what's the matter, Spoke?

He grins.

– This is a large-scale plan that originates before the start of the season. A glitch capable of determining the order of this world for years to come. The vulnerability is in the very code of reality. The whole dupe war is just part of the setup for it, and when the plan is put into action, nothing that happens at the level of ordinary players will cease to matter.

– Are you going to end this world? – asks Zam with unreadable emotion.

– Oh, Zam, – Spoke shakes his head, – I'm going to do a lot more.

***

– I just can't take it seriously anymore, – Zam shares, gnawing on a cookie. – Ro and his plans, – clarifies, – all his plans, you know? What difference does it make if Spoke turns the server into his playground very soon?

– He's having fun, – Mapicc shrugs, – weren't you having fun?

– Not really. I tried, because you are my team, but I never got better. It's not my thing.

– But you're so calm about the Wormhole. How is this better?

– It takes any responsibility out of the hands of the players, – Zam shakes his head, – what difference does it make if someone has an op? This world is obviously doomed, and you are my team, so why would I bother?

– I don't understand how you think. – And, distracted instantly, – I would have told him, but Spoke is right. The information is too sensitive. He's already taken a big risk by including us in.

– I would not like to fail to meet his expectations.

– I wouldn't want to mess up his plan. It's cool.

– It is... It's cruel, – Zam snorts, dragging his fingers along the masonry floor of the base. A modest poppy is breaking through the seams, – but I will not stop it. I respect Spoke. But, you know what?

– Hmm? 

– Spoke will regret it.

***

– How would you explain it at all, mind who? – Vi throws up his hands. A helpless expression is stuck on his face.

– We didn't like our team anymore, and we came for an interview, – Zam calmly replies, hanging down to see the swirling thick fog.

– To a secret base?... – Vi ironically clarifies, and Zam, grunting, nods, as if it was absolutely normal and definitely not crazy.

– I mean, – Mapicc grins – he, unlike Zam, sticks to the wall, clearly not feeling safe, – the fact that we were able to find it quite counts for passing the test. Not that it was difficult, of course.

– You know we're going to war against you, right? – Subz remarks skeptically, clearly not seeing the need to keep this in his sleeve, – against Ro and Mapicc in the first place, but also against Zam and even Spoke, too.

– Publicly, fight as many as you want, – Mapicc snorts; for him, the idea that he could lead to a decrease in the amount of violence on the server would definitely be unthinkable, – we are here unofficially. As colleagues. We came to say hello and find out how you are here. How are you doing with your idiotic emocult.

Subz facepalms. Vi sighs heavily.

– You shouldn't have been included, – Vi grumbles, but he doesn't sounds angry. – the more people know, the higher the chance that information leaks out.

– You can't return what has been done, – Zam shrugs his shoulders. – but hey, we're your best bet, we keep secrets well, remember the dupe war? – he grins, – we will be friends, Vi, don't worry. Do you remember the end of the season 3? I do.

There is a deadly silence. It is interrupted by Mapicc:

– So, where's the sacrifice room or something?

***

– I don't really like all of this, – Zam sadly admits, poking at the side of a po potion, – it creates too much imbalance between the players. If Spoke gets an op, he will be the only one with absolute power. But now... They're just mortals playing gods. You may be immortal and omnipotent, but you're still human, actually. It's stupid.

– I can understand that,– Mapicc nods. – the way Ro shot Pangi? Absolutely not necessary. Bro, bro, you can pick up a sword and kill him yourself. 

– Yes... – Zam pulls, – I understand the thirst for power and advantage, but what's the point if all this is illegal and doesn't really belong to you? This is... wrong. I wouldn't want it all to be on the server.

– Do you want to betray Spoke? – Mapicc asks imperturbably, and Zam flinches.

— No... No, – he stammers, – of course I don't like it, but there's no point in betrayal. Of course, I can try to take illegal items from people and dump them into the lava, but it will never work. And Spoke will be a god very soon, and none of this will matter anymore. If he wants to, he will remove all these toys. If he wants to, he will give them to absolutely everyone. Then why do anything at all?

– You could tell Parrot what's going on, – Mapicc suggests disinterestedly, and Zam snorts.

– To him? It's too late, the illegal items are already on the server. Spoke has too much pressure on him.

– It must be hard for you,– Mapicc says suddenly.

– Why? 

– Things are wrong for you, and your prospects are meaningless.

– Isn't that true? – Zam is surprised.

– Who knows, – Mapicc shrugs, – I'm not inclined to overthink as you do, but I know that wherever I am, any decision I make counts. – And with a well-aimed blow, he smashes the bottle of potion into the wall.

***

– It's, like, pretty decent,– Zam comments when they get high enough to regard the position as private.

– Who, your self-esteem? – Mapicc laughs it off and intercepts his trident, which is almost completely blackened by the number of effects.

– The Wormhole, – Zam replies with a smile, and Mapicc looks up.

Below them is a huge war for a twisted and broken world. Above them – a blue–blue-purple funnel continues to spin inexorably.

– Well, at least something good came out of it. – Mapicc shakes his head.

– No, there's something else, – Zam adds meekly.

– And what is it?

– It will never happen again.

Mapicc clicks his tongue and nods, understanding.

– You're right about that. Once and never again.

[twentythree-yearoldlizard]

so based off the poll results, majority wanted me to write these one shots for a Marauders' Band AU. So here's the first one:

Remus Lupin does the BuzzFeed Puppy Interview:

Remus shoots the camera his shy smile that makes people’s stomach do the thing. “Hi there, I’m Remus Lupin and I’m here with Buzzfeed to answer some questions with puppies.”  

He’s wearing an all-black outfit: a black knit sweater that looks warm, paired with black trousers and sturdy black boots. His right wrist is adorned with bracelets; a plain black one with the word ‘moony’ next to a full moon, a beaded one with a star and moon on the centre and a band that reads ‘The Marauders’ with a wolf, dog, deer and rat. His left wrist is free, but he has multiple rings on those fingers.  

“I’m really excited and also a bit nervous, because I love dogs. I really do. But I want them to love me too, so,” he ends with a chuckle.

“I don’t know if they’re going to like me.”

Cuts to a clip of a puppy licking his entire face.

“I don’t know if we’ll connect.”

Cuts to a clip of Remus carrying two puppies, with another in between his legs.

“And I doubt I’m going to be able to answer your questions in any form, when I’m-Oh my god!” He’s cut off as a golden retriever runs towards him.

“Hi,” he says, letting the puppy smell his hands.

Remus coughs out a breathy laugh as the golden retriever jumps into his lap. Just then, a pair of corgis start nibbling on his shoelaces, to which Remus laughs and mutters, “You two are trouble, aren’t you?” They reminded him of James and Sirius.

Remus laughs for ten seconds as a Jack Russel walks slowly towards him and wastes no time on laying his head on Remus’ thigh and starts to fall asleep.

 “Hi loves, I’m Remus” he says, as one of the corgis joins the golden retriever on his lap.

Question 1- What’s your favourite thing about meeting fans?

“It’s just this…really nice feeling I get. Like I feel giddy, whenever a kid waves at me or some fans who’ve said that our songs helped them in tough times. It just gives this sort of nice feeling,”

“No..no,” he says as a corgi pulls on his sleeves, “this is one of my favourites, you can-okay then.” He finishes in defeat, as it manages to pull out a string.

Question 2- What’s the hardest part of being in a band?

“No privacy,” says Remus, he himself startled by how fast he answered. “I mean like...” he says, rubbing the Jack Russel’s belly, “When you live with James and Sirius, who have co-dependency issues, and Peter, whose love language is physical touch, you’ve got to throw personal space out the window.”

Question 3-Describe the way you see your bandmates.

Remus is quiet for a while, as if he’s thinking, while letting the puppies climb all over him.

“There’s James, who I connect with like a brother. He is a ray of fucking sunshine and if I am insecure or sad, he makes me listen to all the 764 reasons for why he loves me. And then there’s Peter, who is like the calmest person I know. He is the friend you need when you just want someone to listen to you. He is always there for you, even if he never says it, you’ll still know that he’s there for you.”

He smiles as the golden retriever settles on his shoulder and one of the corgis has decided to take a nap on top of Remus.

Remus starts with a smile, “And well there’s Sirius, who is one of the most beautiful souls out there. He’s one of the first people that made feel valued and always looked at my scars like they were some kind of treasure. He’s also made me realize a lot of things about myself and uh…yah, our bond is a bit more…special than the rest, and we’ve come a long way, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything else.”

“I am scared to move,” he whispers, as the Jack Russel snores loudly on top of his thighs, golden retriever asleep on his shoulder, a corgi on his belly and the other held within his arms.

Bonus puppy stuff:

The corgis start fighting with each other. “Am I supposed this stop this or something?” Remus asks, looking lost. Just then one of the corgi trips and falls on the sleeping Jack Russel. It opens its eyes, confused. Remus bursts out laughing, which ends up making his face as red as a tomato (and that's a win for all the video editors out there).

PS: Its my first draft btw. i guess ive done good. lmk if its bad, i need honest feedbacks. also gonna put this on ao3, which is my first time ever. and this is set in pre-wolfstar period or they are established but hiding it from public (choose whichever you want)

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 19

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

The final interview ends up being really boring and long, even more then the literal test, you might have lived for billions of years but you have not felt such levels of unfun ever before... You have to give it to them, this is definitely impressive.

All about law and respectability and rules, things you understand are important for an hero to know but are so uninteresting to you...

... In contrast the questions created by Hotguy are a shift in tone that's for you, you don't even need the interviewer to tell you Hotguy wrote these because It's so blatantly obvious to you... They are also somehow much more thought invoking then the previous ones... Less...cut and dry...they are also phrased in a way that's not just prose and proper nouns and all that stuff.

You can tell that Hotguy really cares about this, you suppose he has every reason to... Then is another complete vibe chance as the last question comes, this one has Hero Association written all over it so much that it might as well count as an autograph.

"Do you believe you can fit in with the Hotguy brand?"

You know the god of heroes, you have talked once or twice or maybe a few hundred times, he would absolutely cringe at the thought of the profession being considered a brand. From what you have seen of HotGuy he probably does the same.

"Yes."

"How?"

You would make a joke about being very hpr but that would be equivalent to shooting yourself in the foot...Well, you have planned the perfect twist for this.

"Hotguy is the first hero with two powers."

"Indeed"

The interviewer is clearly not getting what you are trying to say, good. Surprises are always welcome.

You generate an arrow in your hand while spreading your wings.

"Hopefully, I'll be the second"

The interviewer is shocked, you tend to have that effect on people it seems... You silently say goodbye, now you just need to wait for an answer.

*Scar's pov*

You are called by the council, you don't really know why. You are sure you sent your questions, were they bad or something?

"We have found the perfect candidate."

Oh!...Wait, what?

"A-Already? It's been less then-"

"Yes, this one is special"

That's uh... Usually not good when they are the one to say it. Who did they pick?

"Special...? How?"

"He's like you."

Like... You...??

"... Uh?"

"Two powers. Wings like that of Sheriff and an ability to summon weapons at will... Has a fascination with arrows much like you."

"Oh...oh! . . . Oh I didn't expect that to ever happen... heh"

... You aren't the only one anymore...if he's better will you be replaced? ... No, no! They wouldn't...they wouldn't.

You should meet him then, if he's going to work with you then you are going to have to get along.

Well, if he answered your question at least mostly correctly then you are sure you are going to get along well... You'll have to ask Cub for his score.

"HE GOT ALL MY QUESTIONS WRONG!?!"

"Don't shout in my lab Scar"

"... Sorry Cub... I just... I just can't believe he got all my questions wrong and still got a 98% in the interview."

"I can, your questions were the last ten out of five hundred made by the association. You should have really written more."

"Oh...well maybe they should have written less... five hundred questions for an interview is insane."

"Can't argue with that"

Ok, so maybe you and the sidekick think nothing alike, that's fine, you can still be friendly... You are sure you can trust the association... It's not like they have ever...well, not too often... not always.

You open the door and-

"Coffee guy???"

[darkfire359]

I don’t understand why people are so upset about Christian Linke’s declaration that Viktor is asexual. Like, I don’t know anything about this creator personally, so maybe he is just homophobic on his own time or something. But as far as I can tell, he basically said two things in his interview:

- Jayce/Viktor shippers didn’t influence the writing of season 2 because they didn’t plan to take things in that direction. This shouldn’t be surprising. It also doesn’t really affect how gay Jayce and Viktor’s relationship ended up looking in practice.

- Viktor was written as being asexual from the beginning, and Linke had explicitly talked to queer Rioters ahead of time to ask what representation was lacking (they said asexuality). The latter seems like a confirmable event and thus a weird thing to lie about. So I think he genuinely did plan it from the beginning and not just decide on it as a reaction to shippers.

Now, while I’m annoyed that he seems to be conflating aromanticism and asexuality, this is kind of what I expect from the average cishet person. Honestly even queer writers like Vivziepop are guilty of this (the “ace in the hole” joke about Alastor in Hazbin Hotel is made in reference to Alastor not being romantically interested in someone). But I do prefer that writers at least *try* to write queer characters rather than just throwing out the whole thing as being too confusing.

And my impression is that they *did* try—the show had multiple points where Viktor is shown to not reciprocate Sky’s affections, as well as one point where he seems to not really understand Jayce’s interest in Mel. And of course Viktor is unbothered by having a robot body that’s incapable of sex (if only we could all upgrade ourselves like that…) In a show that doesn’t use the word “sex” or use any labels for anyone’s orientation, I think it’s hard to be explicitly clear here.

It seems like one thing people are upset about is Viktor being both disabled and asexual at the same time, and I’ll admit I don’t really understand the issue. First of all, Viktor is not the only disabled character—Sevika and late S2 Jayce are disabled as well, and it’s a particularly big issue for the former. Both of them are pretty canonically non-ace—Sevika due to the line about her visiting the brothel, and Jayce from his sex scene with Mel. I think this is like 2/5 of the characters in the whole show that are specifically non-ace.

Secondly, it seems like some of the concern with disabled characters being depicted as ace is them being seen as sexually undesirable—something clearly not the case with Viktor. Viktor is drawn / voiced very attractively (or so I gather), and in-universe he is being crushed on by Sky. Jayce also has a whole speech about how Viktor’s disability is beautiful. If the creators thought that Viktor’s disability made him unattractive in some way, they sure didn’t portray that, at all.

So yeah, I do not understand the problem with this announcement.

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 6 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

Chapter Summary: The tension between you and Buck brings you and Eddie closer.

Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: none

Things between you and Buck are… weird. Awkward. Uncomfortable. The last time you had a real conversation with him, it was a fight, but it ended with you saying how much you care about him. It’s left you feeling like there’s an open wound on your chest, one that exposes your heart. You feel vulnerable, and you hate it. Your hatred of the feeling triumphs over your desire to be around him, at least for now.

In a weird silver lining, your lack of time with Buck has created room for one of your other coworkers — Eddie. Talking to Eddie when Buck was around always felt strange, like there was something in the air that wasn’t supposed to be. Which is funny, because when it’s the two of them, they’re as thick as thieves. Something about you being in the mix feels like adding oil to water.

You like to think you’ve gotten to know Eddie relatively well in the last few weeks. So when he’s staring off into space while the rest of the team is eating breakfast, you don’t feel awkward asking what he’s thinking about.

“Nothing,” he says, turning his coffee mug absentmindedly. “Just… this new school with Christopher.”

“Don’t think it’s a good fit?” You ask.

“No, it’s perfect,” Eddie replies, turning his attention to you.

You smile softly. “Then what’s the problem?”

“They need to do a family interview.”

“Again, what’s the problem?” you chuckle. “I mean, aren’t the divorce and custody agreement papers enough?”

“They would be… if I had them.”

You frown. “What?”

Eddie sighs as he rubs his forehead. He leans closer so you’re the only one who can hear him. “We’re still married.”

Apparently, you don’t know a goddamn thing about Eddie.

“Oh,” is all you manage to get out.

Eddie chuckles briefly. “Yeah.”

“Wow. Just… from how you talk about her, you made it sound like things were… over over. Like, officially over.”

“ Shannon and I aren’t officially… anything these days.”

“You’re officially husband and wife.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he smiles as he does it. “Touché.”

“What’re you gonna do?” you ask softly after a moment.

He sets his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. “I don’t know.”

You just watch him and can’t shake the helplessness that washes over you. Eddie’s in a tough spot; no matter what you say, you can’t fix it. All you can do is be there.

“Tell me what I can do,” you say.

Eddie looks up at you with a lopsided grin. There aren’t many things you wouldn’t do to keep it on his face.

“I’ve been told I’m a lot of fun when I drink,” you continue. “Well, when I have three drinks I’m fun: that’s when I get dancy. After five drinks, I get sad. You can pick the number.”

Eddie laughs.

9-1-1 dispatch is down, making doing your job almost impossible. LA is a maze; without GPS navigation, you rely on your phone and eyes to do most of the work. It’s a miracle that dispatch existed before computers.

You’re in the passenger’s seat of the rig, and you tell Hen to make a right turn. When you pull up to what’s supposed to be the scene, though, there’s nothing.

“Dispatch, this is RA 118,” you say into the radio. “There’s nothing here.”

“No pregnant woman?” A dispatcher asks.

“There’s no building. It’s an empty lot.”

“Stand by, 118.”

You hang the radio with a huff.

“What’s going on with you?” Hen asks.

You frown and look over at her. “What?”

“You’ve been… off lately,” she explains. “Like, you’ve got this short fuse now.”

“Why shouldn’t I? We can’t even do our fucking jobs because some moron can’t fix a computer!”

Hen raises her eyebrows.

“Okay, point taken.”

“Buck says you two haven’t talked in a while.”

“Well, he’s a firefighter and I’m a paramedic. We can work the same shift and not see each other,” you shrug. “ I don’t know why he’s talking to you about it.”

“I’m not sure, but… it sounded like I’m not the only one worried about you.”

You play with your hands in your lap.

Hen sighs. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but I hope it gets fixed, because you two are miserable without each other.”

“It’s not like that-”

Hen raises a hand to silence you. “I don’t know what you guys are… best friends, work spouses, or dating. Frankly, I don’t care. All I know is that, for better or for worse, you need each other. “

“118, you're gonna need to proceed to San Vicente, east of the Miracle Mile District,” dispatch crackles over the radio. “The nearest cross street is Sixth.”

You pick it up and push the button. “RA 118, copy that.”

“Where the hell have you guys been?”

When you finally arrive at the correct building, you’re faced with a pregnant woman lying on the lobby floor. A small crowd has formed around them, which you push your way through.

“We are fighting a system outage, sir,” Bobby explains, “we apologize for the delay.”

You crouch next to the patient on one side while Hen starts an IV on the other side.

“Hi,” you introduce yourself and don some gloves. “What’s your name?”

“Sonia. I’m 39 weeks pregnant, and 38 years old, which makes me a geriatric pregnancy,” she laughs a little. “God, I hate that word.”

“Word doesn’t matter: you still get a baby out of it,” you smile. “I’m gonna check how progressed you are, okay?”

She nods.

“10 centimeters, 100% effaced,” you observe. “You’re doing great, okay? On this next contraction, you’re gonna push, alright, Sonia?”

She doesn’t respond, so you look up.

Her expression changed. A moment ago, she was nervous but smiling. Now, her face is flattened, and she’s staring ahead at nothing.

“There's something wrong with the baby,” she says quietly.

Your body goes numb.

There are a few things you never want to hear a patient say, and ‘something is wrong’ might be at the top of the list. It’s called ‘impending doom’ — there’s no obvious threat, but it feels like something is about to go terribly wrong. You’ve seen patients die within minutes of saying something doesn’t feel right.

“Your baby is fine, Sonia,” you assure. “You'll-you'll be able to see for yourself in just a minute.”

“No! No, this was a mistake, all of it,” Sonia cries. “Roger was right to panic. Look, we can't do this. I can't... I can't do this. I shouldn't have this child.”

“Hey! Hey, Sonia, look at me,” you say, patting her knee to get her attention.

It takes her a moment, but her eyes eventually meet yours.

“All you have to do is push,” you tell her. “That’s it, okay? Just push.”

She still looks terrified, yet she nods.

On the next contraction, Sonia pushes. You coach her through the contractions, telling her when to push and when to rest. It only takes a few rounds until the baby is fully born.

“He’s here!” you exclaim as you wrap the baby in a towel.

There’s some happy laughter and a round of applause from the crowd as the baby cries.

“Beautiful boy, it’s time you meet your mom,” you say as you move to place the baby on Sonia’s chest.

She’s staring at the ceiling, her expression slack.

“I’ve got the baby,” Eddie interrupts, taking the baby from you so you can work.

“Sonia?” you say, rubbing your knuckles on her sternum. She winces, but barely.

“I can’t get a systolic above 70,” Hen says as she deflates the blood pressure cuff.

“She’s cyanotic,” you say, noting the blue tinge to her lips and fingernails. “She’s in shock.”

“Hemorrhagic?” Hen questions.

“She’s barely bleeding,” you shake your head.

You press your fingers to her neck. You don’t feel a pulse.

“Lost a pulse, starting compressions!” you shout.

Everything starts to move a hell of a lot quicker. Within seconds, the defibrillator is at your side, and as you compress Sonia’s chest, Hen is placing the pads. Eddie has a finger on her neck to ensure your compressions are effective.

When you get Sonia on the gurney, Eddie tags you out as the compressor to give you a break. Your entire body shakes with adrenaline, yet you help pack her into the rig and climb inside.

“She was fine,” Eddie mutters as he compresses. “Birth was going like clockwork, even for a geriatric pregnancy.”

“Sudden despair and fear and anxiety, rapid loss of BP, subsequent cardiovascular collapse…” you think aloud. It dawns on you. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

You’re reaching for your phone, dialing the phone number of the hospital you’re heading to. “It’s an Amniotic Fluid Embolism.”

Eddie looks over to you. His brow is damp with sweat. “She could be in DIC.”

“She needs Mass Transfusion Protocol,” you agree. You raise the phone to your ear. “LA general, this is RA 118 en route, I need to speak to your ER charge nurse.”

When you’re rolling through the ER doors, you’re kneeling over Sonia on the gurney as you do compressions. Doctors and nurses are shouting directions at each other, but all you focus on is your arms moving up and down.

You hop off so they can move her off of the gurney and onto the hospital bed. In the process, you notice that the defibrillator is showing Sonia’s in Ventricular Tachycardia — a shockable rhythm.

“V-Tach,” you say normally at first, then shout. “V-Tach! Everyone clear!”

The ER staff has no idea who you are, but when someone shouts those words, anyone with a medical background knows to listen. Everyone backs away with their hands raised. After hitting the ‘charge’ button, you do a quick survey to ensure no one is touching Sonia. Then, you hit the lightning bolt to deliver a shock.

Sonia’s body jerks at the electricity. The EKG tracing goes from tombstone shapes to a flatline. Then, there’s a beep and a QRS complex. Then another, and another.

“Got a pulse!” a random voice shouts.

You make your way out of the trauma bay and into the hallway, where Eddie’s waiting for you.

“That was… amazing,” Eddie says.

You stand next to him wordlessly. You nod but then let out a sob as you collapse against the wall.

Eddie helps lower you to the floor. He keeps a hand on your shoulder, squeezing tightly.

“God, this is embarrassing,” you remark between a few sobs.

“It isn’t,” Eddie immediately responds. “We’ve all been there.”

“It’s, uh, it’s how my mom died,” you say with a sad laugh. “They didn’t catch it in time. She bled to death internally. I just… I don’t know what I would’ve done if she didn’t pull through.”

“She did,” Eddie says, moving his hand from your shoulder to your knee. “She pulled through because of you.”

You nod again, wiping away some of your tears. “Thank you.”

Eddie nods in return. You notice that his gaze goes from your eyes to your lips and back up to your eyes.

It happens in the smallest of movements, but before you know it, your forehead is pressed against Eddie’s. You can feel his breath on your mouth. You quietly gasp at the sensation, and it makes him sigh.

You press your lips together. “You’re married.”

“She wants a divorce,” Eddie whispers.

You smile sadly. “You’re still married.”

Eddie sighs again, but this time, he moves away from you.

“I’m not saying it can never happen,” you say quietly. “All I’m saying is that I’m not that kind of girl. And you definitely aren’t that kind of guy.”

Eddie nods, his mouth shifting into a few different expressions.

You rise to your feet and offer Eddie a hand. “Let’s get back to work, Edmundo.”

Eddie laughs genuinely at the use of his full name. He takes your hand and uses it to help get himself up, but he continues holding it when he’s standing.

“Back to work,” he agrees and squeezes your hand before letting go.

You’re heading out a scene call, fire in progress with multiple victims suspected. You’re driving the rig while Eddie sets up the back. The 118 is the nearest firehouse, so your unit will be the first on the scene. It comes with a lot of responsibility, but you know you and Eddie are ready for it.

That is, until there’s a massive ‘BOOM’ from behind you.

You immediately pull over and look in your rearview. The engine following behind you is now on fire and lying on its side in the middle of the intersection. You can see a few firefighters lying on the pavement.

“Eddie, grab our bags!” you shout as you unclick your seatbelt.

You fly out of the rig and meet Eddie in the back. Instead of handing you your bag, he sets a hand on your shoulder and pushes you both to the side of the ambulance.

“What the hell?” You ask.

“There’s a bomber,” he says in a low tone.

“What?” you ask again, peering to the side of him.

Sure enough, there’s a kid — no older than twenty — with several pipe bombs strapped to his chest. He’s holding what appears to be the detonator in his hand. Someone is laying at his feet, his leg pinned under the passenger side of the engine.

Buck was sitting in the passenger’s seat.

You try rushing forward again, and Eddie grabs you by the waist this time.

“It’s Buck!” you scream as you struggle against him.

“I know,” Eddie says, his arms wrapped around you as he presses your back to his chest.

“We have to do something!” you cry, still thrashing against Eddie.

“We have to wait for the scene to clear,” Eddie explains. It’s more than a little annoying how calm he sounds. “If you go in now, both of you could die.”

“So what, we just let him die?” You ask, but you’ve stopped fighting.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, but his grip around you loosens. Eventually, you feel his arms drop back to his sides. That’s when you make a run for it.

You make it far enough to catch the bomber’s attention. You raise your hands in the air.

“I’m not who you want,” you explain, “I just want to help him. He has nothing to do with this. He has friends and family… he’s my family. Please, just let me help him.”

The bomber looks from you to Buck, then back at you. “He’s collateral damage.”

“Is that how you see yourself?” Bobby interrupts. He approaches with his hands raised.

The bomber’s attention shifts to Bobby, the person he’s been after this whole time. You use it as a window of opportunity to approach Buck slowly. When you finally reach him, you crouch down by his head.

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” you say softly. You set a hand on his head. “How’re you feeling?”

His left leg is the one that’s pinned, and he’s lying on his stomach. He tries to look up at you. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”

“I could say the same thing to you,” you joke. You move your hand to his neck. “Are you in pain?”

“No, just kind of numb,” he says. “That’s not good, right?”

Your heart sinks. “You’re in shock: it’s normal.”

Bobby manages to distract the bomber long enough to subdue him. As the bomber gets rushed off, the rest of your team rushes in.

“Eddie, start two lines, wide open,” you instruct. “Hen, get him in the C-collar.”

You dig in the medi bag for a tourniquet. As you apply it, you try to drown out the sound of Buck crying out in pain.

“How are we doing?” Bobby asks as you stand.

“We’re out of time,” you mumble. “We need to get him out and to the nearest trauma center.”

Any extra body moves to the truck, waiting for the count to lift it. You place yourself in front of Buck, taking both of his hands.

“We’re gonna get you out,” you promise.

He nods slightly.

“Okay, my count,” you say as you move your hands to underneath his arms. “1… 2… 3!”

As everyone begins to push, you start pulling on Buck. He isn’t budging.

“It’s too heavy,” Bobby says.

“We got anything on the truck we can use for leverage?” Eddie suggests.

“No, we need more people,” Chim says, picking up his radio. “Dispatch, this is 118…”

There’s some clattering from across the way. Bystanders are pushing through the barricades to help. This time, you’re able to get him out.

You get him on the backboard, then onto the gurney. The whole time, you’re telling him that he did a good job and that he’ll be okay. As you’re running with him to the ambulance, he mumbles something. Once you’re settled into the rig, you ask him to repeat himself.

“You’re my family, too,” he mutters.

You wait in the waiting room the whole time Buck is in surgery. When he makes it out of recovery and to the ICU room, you don’t leave his side. You’re sure visiting hours are over, but you stay out of the nurse’s way. She doesn’t say anything; she just gives you a sympathetic look every once in a while.

You hear him stir a little bit. You look up from your phone to see Buck blinking awake.

“Welcome back,” you smile.

“You’re here,” he says, voice rough.

“Where else would I be?”

Buck looks around the room, slowly orienting himself. His eyes eventually land on his leg, which is in a cast and suspended in a sling. His eyes widen, and he lets out a few breaths as he tries to sit up.

“Okay, okay,” you set a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Is it?” Buck asks. “Did you talk to the doctor? Did he say anything about how the surgery went?”

“Just that you made it through,” you say softly. “And you're now the proud owner of one titanium rod and four beautifully cobalt-chromed screws.”

“Before they wheeled me in, he, uh… he said he didn't know how it was gonna go.”

You take his hand gently. “You’ll walk again, Buck.”

“Yeah, h-he said… he said he was pretty confident about that. He, uh, he just... he didn't know if I would ever… work again.”

You run a hand over your face. “Okay, I'm not gonna lie to you and tell you everything will work out how you want it to. But what I will say is that we should take this moment to be glad that you’re alive.”

“I’m really sorry about our fight,” Buck apologizes.

You laugh. “Buck, that is… so far from being important right now.”

“No, it isn’t,” he insists. “It wasn’t fair, how I reacted. I’m proud of you. I was just… scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Losing you,” he admits quietly.

“Yeah, well, I was pretty scared of that today, so we’re definitely even,” you joke. Your smile softens and you squeeze his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You move your hand to his forehead. You trail it down to his cheek, letting it rest for a moment. You turn your body to face him better. His eyes are closed, which you’re grateful for because if he were looking at you, you wouldn’t have the guts to do what you want to do.

You kiss him. It’s hesitant at first, and when he doesn’t react right away, you start to pull back. Before you can, Buck has his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. Your hand moves from his cheek down his neck and eventually rests on his chest. You only pull away when your lungs are burning from lack of air.

Buck traces his thumb over your lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You blush, laugh, and bury your face in the crook of his neck.