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#peep the new single
plenilunaris · 4 months
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I return with a vengeance to share another thing to die for. They're already so important to me...
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custer-mp3 · 8 months
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shirts by Rock & Rebellion, a very of-the-era Affliction/Dirtbag knockoff. via ebay.
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electrozeistyking · 1 month
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👁👁 fine no spider cake then hmmm..... (looks around the room) -👻
Ah. I see you've noticed that I moved the spiders to a location where you can't touch them. If you go to the room where the spiders are they will be moved again. This will keep happening to ensure you cannot harm anymore spiders and eat them before I can get them all adopted out.
So far one has been adopted and one has been killed at your ghostly hands. The next move is on you and your fellow ghosts, as well as other askers and anons. Choose wisely.
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hoxooster · 1 year
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For anyone here who might still be out of the loop, a Christmas event has come to Payday 2 that functions similar to the Golden Piggy during this year’s Crimefest, except with more Pain. :D Seriously, the buffs the cops get drive me insane in a lot of bad ways. Jeezum Crow.
The community present counter will be updated at some unspecified time on the 16th, so keep your eyes open for that!
Also, if any of you are interested in watching any of the OVERKILL Partner streams [obviously not the ones for the 15th--sorry, guys, for being late on this], here’s the schedule and the users involved (some of them might be doing giveaways as well):
December 16th:
9AM-9PM CET - RobThanatos
3PM-9PM CET - PippaStealth
9PM-12AM CET - ZohanEnTwitch
December 17th:
9AM-3PM CET - PippaStealth
9AM-9PM CET - RobThanatos
6PM-9PM CET - ZohanEnTwitch
6PM-12AM CET - Rusty Chains
9PM-12AM CET - Red Archer Live
December 18th:
12AM-6AM CET - Rusty Chains
12PM-6PM CET - PippaStealth
6PM-9PM CET - ZohanEnTwitch
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elbowreveal · 2 years
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Currently caught in a battle of wills with my brain who won’t let me take the remote and change the channel off of “cc!Technoblade pondering hours”. Mind has been on the wrong channel for several weeks now can we please go back to thinking about fiction
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crmsndragonwngss · 5 months
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Ghost Atlas:
Tomorrow 3pm PST, music video for "Panorama Daydream"
New record out Friday!
(via Instagram)
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theskyexists · 1 year
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illcomebackforyou · 1 year
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survivorguilt - IsItSomethingISaid? (Demo)
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xxblairexxss · 10 months
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A fresh start
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader
Theme : Angst, fluff
Word count : 4.2k
Part 2
Requested!
In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.
It gets a little heavy near the end so heads up! Not proofread!
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"There seems to be a problem with the downforce. It kind of eats the tyre quite a lot."
Charles felt a touch on his hip while he was too busy listening to the engineers. Looking down, he saw a small kid patting on his leg, while the other hand seemed to be offering him something. "Hey, are you giving this to me?" He asked, pulling the headset from his ear as he crouched down.
"Yeah! My mom always gives me candy whenever I am stressed with my homework. You can—oh." The little kid fumbled with the wrapping paper that was securely wrapped around the lollipop. "I can’t take the plastic off for you. Sorry…"
"Oh, it’s okay. Let me help you." Charles twiddled with the wrapper as it went loose before he pulled it off. "There! Oh, for me? Are you sure?"
"No stress! Bye bye!" The toddler waved and sprinted off, leaving Charles with the strawberry lollipop in his hand.
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"Any idea who she is?" Charles nudged Joris and tipped his chin towards the girl who was across the room.
"She’s part of the communication executive." Joris took a quick glance and went back to his phone.
"I have never seen her before." His eyes were latched on the girl, seeing the way she talked with her hands, nodding and smiling at whatever the other girl was talking about.
"She just joined the team."
"What’s her name?" Charles nudged Joris again, causing him to heave a sigh and stand up.
"Y/N!" Joris called out.
"Joris! What the fuck?" Charles slapped his friend’s leg and looked away. The phone in his hand seemed to be looking much more interesting, though it wasn’t even turned on. While his fingers were dancing and tapping on any random buttons on his phone, his ears were listening to the conversation—well, more like listening to her voice. It was weird how he had never seen her before, but Joris seemed to be getting along with her very well.
"That was Y/N." Joris gave a smile, stealing a peep from Charles’s phone, and laughed when he saw it was on camera, capturing Charles’s face from an angle below. "Nice picture, by the way. Is that why you couldn’t stop looking at it when she was here?"
"Very unnecessary, Joris. You could have just told me her name." He threw his cap on and stood up to leave the room.
"I thought you wanted to get to know her." Joris exclaimed, seeing his best friend walking away.
"I can figure that one myself!"
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"Charlie!"
"Hey, Adam! Give me a five!" He bent down as the little one hopped and touched their hands together. This has been his fourth time seeing him, and every single time, his visit would get longer and longer. The first time he met the kid, he just dropped by to give him candy and walked away. This time, he came by with candy and shared a few little jokes and games.
"Do you always wander around the paddock alone? Your dad never gets mad." He ripped the top off the candy and handed it to the kid.
"No, mommy won’t be mad if I just stay around the red garage. Oh! Sour!" His face scrunched up, making the driver cackle.
"Oh? You’re with your mom? Dang, this is sour." He made a face and shivered as the sourness hit.
"Yeah, I’m with mommy! Daddy is…" He looked down, his bottom lips jutting out. Charles knew right away it wasn’t something light if this was the reaction coming from a 4-year-old kid, so he cut the topic short.
"You don’t have anything sweet in there? I’m not a fan of sour candy."
Adam patted his pockets and shook his head. "No more candy! I stole that from mommy. Shh, she didn’t know." He put his pointy finger on his lips and giggled.
"Your secret is safe with me, buddy. I have to go. See you around, Adam!" Charles stood up and gave the little one a pat on the head before he went to get Andrea for his short meeting before the press conference.
"This will be your..." 
Charles was slapped with what felt like a brick when it was just a file of papers, but the sting was unexpected, causing him to lean back as he covered one side of his face with his hand.
"Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I just slap you?"
Chuckling, he shook his head and pressed his palm on his eyes—the ones that just got slapped on. "No, no. Well, yes, I’m okay. Are you–"  Her beauty from up close astounded him, erasing all vocabularies in his head as he went blank. "You are beautiful," he muttered.
"Sorry?"
"Oh? Oh, nothing. Y/N, right?" He offered a handshake with the widest grin. "I’m Charles."
"Everyone knows who you are, Charles." You laughed, accepting the handshake. "How do you know my name? I never properly introduced myself."
"Oh, Joris told me." He answered, his eyes still on her, making him look like a fool without realising it.
"Do you have anything else to say? Because I need to." She pointed the other way. "I need to head there."
He pulled himself back to his senses and stepped aside. "Oh, sorry about that. I’m not going to hold you any longer."
"Sorry about that. Good luck in the qualifying round!"
"Oh, wait! Is this yours?" He crouched down and took the sour candies on his feet. The same one he got from the kid
"Oh, yeah! Must have slipped off my hand. Thank you!"
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"Mommy, look!"
You took the paper that he handed to you and cackled at the drawing. "What is this, sweetheart?"
"Guess, mommy! Look, I drew the moustache too." He pointed at the little lines, wearing the proudest smile.
"A moustache? Is that a cat?"
"Yes! Like the one we used to have!" He started collecting all of his marker pens and coloured pencils, placing them in his small pencil case as he saw you start packing your stuff. "Are we going back already?"
"Yeah, mommy’s all done with my work, so we can head back early. Should we go on a little date and get ice cream?" Shutting down your laptop, you placed them in the case when Adam seemed to be rushing to go somewhere with his little backpack. "Where are you going?"
"Mommy, wait! I haven’t met Charlie!"
"What even is Charlie?" You muttered, picking up the missing marker pens he had missed for rushing.
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"Hey, munchkin! I was waiting for you." Charles grinned and offered his hand for a high five. "Where have you been?"
"Oh! I’m going back already. Wait!" He sneaked his little hand into his pocket and frowned when he couldn’t find the thing he was looking for. Charles then saw him pull his arms off his small backpack and sneak his little hand inside the small compartment. "This is for you!"
"You are going home? Why?" Taking the small Mars bar from the little one, he kept it in his hand as he helped him put on his backpack again.
"Mommy’s done with her work early today, so I’m going out on a date!"
Charles grabbed his little arm before he could sprint away. "You? You are going out on a date? Wait, with who?"
"Adam!"
The driver’s facial expression went blank as he heard the voice. The little arm in his hand slipped off as he saw the little one run and hug the legs of the woman he has been dying to talk to over the past couple of months.
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"Mommy!"
You ruffled his hair as he crashed into you. "Have you met your Charlie?" Bending down, you squeezed his chubby cheeks as you took his hand in yours.
"Yes! That’s Charlie!" He exclaimed, pointing at someone.
You saw Charles still crouching down with a Mars bar in his hand. He was already looking at you as you laid your eyes on him. He looked surprised and stunned, as he didn’t seem to catch the smile you gave.
"He's—he’s yours? Adam, is your kid?" He queried, taking steps closer.
"Yeah, he’s my son. Wait–" Looking down, you cupped his little cheek. "Adam, Charlie, is Charles? Is this the friend you have been giving your candy away to?"
"Yes!" he squealed.
You thought he had been making friends with a cat or any other person, but not with an actual driver, because who would have thought he would have the most time in the world to be friends with a 4-year-old kid? "I’m so sorry if he had been bothering you. I truly had no idea about that.”
"It’s okay, Y/N. I got free candies." He showed the Mars bar he had in his hand, making you chuckle.
"I am going out on a date with mommy. Do you want to come?"
His words became a mumble as you quickly covered his mouth. "Charlie is busy, Adam." Tilting your head back and facing the driver, you asked the little one to wave before walking away. "I’ll get going now. Say bye, Adam."
"Bye, Charlie!"
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"What’s with that smile?" Joris peeked his head to look at the little kid, who kept looking back every now and then to wave his little hand at the driver.
"Nothing." Charles ripped off the Mars bar in his hand and took a bite of it, cocking his brow at Joris, who seemed to have more questions. "What?"
"Nothing." He mimicked Charles’s expression and moved away before he could get hit in the head.
"You didn’t tell me she had a kid." Charles blurted.
"I thought you wanted to figure it out yourself. Why? Does it change anything?"
"What do you mean?" He queried, taking another bite from the chocolate bar.
"Does it change your little crush on her now that you know she has a kid?"
"No, not at all. I like her even more now." He chuckled and did a double take on his friend. "Wait, how do you know I have a crush on her?"
"Because you aren’t being too discreet about it. I bet Adam knew it too. Give me that." Joris snatched the chocolate bar from the driver’s hand and took the last bite. "You shouldn’t eat too much sweet for your diet, you know."
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"Adam, I need your help." The sound of music in the room was cut off when the driver finally spoke what had been in his head for weeks. Charles was lying down on the couch in his driver room with his little friend, while the little one was too busy colouring the dinosaur from his book.
"More candy?" He asked, switching to a different colour pencil from his case.
"No, not candy. I wanted to ask your mom on a date." He put his phone away and sat up, looking at the little one full of anticipation.
"No."
"Wait, what? Why?" Charles stood up and took a seat by Adam’s side. He casually started participating in the colouring activity as he took a blue pencil and started filling in the tail section of the dinosaur. "I thought we were friends?"
"Mommy only goes on a date with me."
"She might want to go on a date with me." He assured him, helping him change to a different coloured pencil.
"I don’t want mommy to cry again, so, no. I need to go now!" He stood up and packed his colourful stuff inside his little backpack with the help of the driver.
"I won’t make her cry, Adam." Charles handed him his colouring book as the toddler stood up to leave.
"That’s what Daddy used to say too. Bye bye, Charlie!"
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"Charlie hurt?" 
"Yes, sweetheart. He crashed today, so you shouldn’t bug him, okay? Just stay here." You pinched his little cheek before handing him his iPad. "Not too long. Turn it off when mommy says so, alright?"
Adam did listen to you and stayed in the break room while you sorted out a few things before race day tomorrow. There wasn’t any meeting until the next hour, so you got to do your work while listening to your kid watch Coco ten times this weekend.
Until you heard a knock on the door,
"Hi. Uhm, I’m looking for Adam." Your eyes widened as the driver peeked his head inside the room.
"Charlie!" He put his iPad to the side and hopped off the couch to run straight into Charles’s arms.
"Why didn’t you come to see me?"
"Mommy said I shouldn’t bug you. Are you okay?" You chuckled when he cupped the driver’s cheeks with his small hands.
"Yeah, I’m okay. Wait, actually, not really."
To that, Adam gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh, no! You need candy?"
"Come here." Charles pulled your son to the end of the room, so you were no longer able to eavesdrop on the conversation.
You saw those two start whispering something, giggling, and laughing while you were left out. "Bye Charlie!" He waved as the driver trod, leaving the break room.
"Bye, munchkin. See you, Y/N. You look beautiful in a ponytail, by the way."
You were taken back by the sudden compliment, and your hand went to stroke your hair now that he mentioned it. "But I always have my hair tied?"
"Yeah, that’s what I meant." He gave a wink before walking away, leaving you and your toddler, who seemed to find the whole situation funny.
"What did he tell you?" You tried to pry into their business, acting casual by going back to your work.
"It’s a secret!" He winked, which looked more like a face scrunch as he went back on his iPad, making you frown in confusion.
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"Go! Open the door!"
"I can’t. Give me a second."
"Why?"
"I’m nervous, buddy."
"I’ll open it for you!"
"No, no!"
You were staying in the break room, playing with your phone while your little one stayed outside, watching an army of people in the paddock celebrate the drivers on the podium. He had promised to stay just outside the room so you wouldn’t have to worry about him being in the crowd, but minutes later, you kept hearing whispers right outside the door. You weren’t sure who the owner of the other one was, but you were so sure one of them belonged to your son.
"Mommy?" 
"The door is not locked, love. Just come in." You replied and went back to your phone, expecting him to walk in, but he didn’t.
"Go, Charlie!”
"Is there anything wrong?" Placing the phone away, you pushed the door open and saw that your toddler kept on pushing the driver towards your door. "Charles? Do you need anything?"
"Y/N. Actually–"
"Charlie wants to ask you out on a date!" Adam cut in.
The words made you flabbergasted. That was impossible. Why would he ask you out on a date when every woman he met on a daily basis dressed up way better and had better body shape than you?
And they were single. While you were a divorcee, you even had a kid.
"Stop joking around, Adam. Leave Charlie alone, okay?" Adam hid behind the driver as you tried to grab his arm, giggling while hugging Charles’s legs.
"Would you go out on a date with me?"
You gave a dry smile and shook your head right away. "Sorry, Charles. I have a kid, remember? Who’s going to take care of him if I—“
"Joris will play with me! Right, Charlie?" He pulled on the Ferrari’s shirt, chuckling as he felt Charles’s hand on his neck.
"Joris agreed to take care of Adam for one night. They are best friends." Charles assured.
"I can’t, Charles. I’m so sorry."
He followed you inside while Adam stayed outside to find Joris. "But why?" You ignored him. "Y/N, why?"
"I should be asking you that. Why me? I don’t get it. I have a kid, Charles." You took your phone and started taking your laptop bag.
"And what’s wrong with that?"
"Nothing’s wrong, but you have all those hot girls ready for you to ask them out. I am way out of your league, Charles." 
He held your arm to stop you from walking out of the room. "I got Adam’s permission, and I promised him that I was going to take you out. Please give me a chance."
"How did you get his permission?"
You saw him awkwardly smile as he scratched the back of his neck. "He promised me his permission if I ended up in the top 5 this weekend."
Laughing, you rolled your eyes at how ridiculous the deal was.
"Is that a yes?" He tilted his head, having a little faith in how the tension in the room seemed to die down.
"Fine. Just one date."
To that, he bit his lips and threw up a fist. "Yes! You’ll be in Maranello next weekend, yeah? I’ll pick up."
"Sure, I’ll send you the address."
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"Be nice to Joris, alright?"
"Mommy looks very pretty!" He placed both of his palms on your cheeks and gave you a kiss before hugging you by the neck. "Have fun with Charlie! Let me know if he makes you cry, and I’ll." He showed you his little fist. "I’ll hit him!"
Giggling, you kiss him back on his cheek. "I thought you said he was nice."
"Yeah, Charlie is very nice. That’s why I let him take mommy out on a date." He ran towards the main door as Joris helped put his sneakers on. "Bye mommy!"
Back then, when he was born, you always worried if you were able to raise him all on your own. If you could take on both responsibilities as his mother and father figure at a young age, You were grateful enough, as he had grown up to be a very gentle and cheerful kid, despite what he had witnessed occasionally whenever your ex-husband paid a visit. He was never a good dad. He never wanted to be one. Adam barely called him dad. He never knew what it felt like to have a dad, but he would always reassure you that he was glad enough to have the perfect mom. Though you tried to keep your marriage problems between you and your ex-husband, Adam was smart enough to figure out what his dad was like. Whenever your ex-husband came by, you would always get bruises on your body. Maybe that was why your little one grew up to be very protective of you, despite his age.
Charles had told you he was a few minutes away, so you weren’t expecting to see your former spouse when you opened the door.
"Where are you going?" He pushed the door and walked inside as if he had any right to do so.
"It’s none of your business. Please leave."
"It’s my house. Where’s Adam? And why are you all dressed up?" He scanned you up and down, smirking as if you looked humorous.
"Leave, please."
"Come on, baby. I haven’t seen you for months. I have missed you."
You pressed your lips into a thin line, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. Whenever you were home, he would always come by to ask for sex. He would beat you up if you ever resisted any of his attempts, but you would rather get beaten than be in the same bed with him again. You were just glad Adam wasn’t here to witness it all again. "Leave me alone!" You yelled, pushing him off from pinning your body against the wall.
"You fucking bitc—who’s that?" His hand, which was about to hit you in the face, came to an abrupt stop when the doorbell rang.
"It’s no one." The doorbell rang again.
"Go and open the door. It’s fucking annoying." He pushed you on your head, making you jerk forward towards the door.
You wiped on your tears that rolled down your cheeks before twisting the lock as you were greeted by Charles, with his dimples that went shallow as soon as he saw you.
"Y/N? Are you crying?"
You let out a sob and tilted your face away from the tears that rolled down your cheeks again. "I’m sorry, I can’t make it today."
"What’s wrong? Did something happen?" He gently tilted your face and felt his stomach drop when he saw your broken expression. "What happened, Y/N?"
"I–" You sobbed again.
"She wants you to leave, kid."
Charles pushed the door wider as he walked in and stood in front of you. "Who are you?"
"I’m her husband."
You felt his hand on your arm as he pulled you closer; his gaze was still locked on the older guy.
Charles let out a chuckle, seeing how absurd this whole situation was. "So, you are the ex-husband. Well, I don’t think it was me who wasn’t supposed to be in here."
"Kid, this is my house, and that bitch that you are touching is mine." He snarled.
"Don’t call me that. And she’s not yours." Charles furrowed at the man, feeling your hand gripping his arm.
"Ah, so she’s yours now? Did you claim her yet?"
"She’s not mine. She’s no one's possession because she’s not a fucking item. You should leave." His teeth were clenched as his gaze pierced the man. "Leave before I call the cops on you."
"I’ll get going first, baby. See you when this motherfucker is gone, yeah?" You flinched when you felt his cold skin on your cheek.
"Don’t fucking touch her." Charles yanked his hand away and locked the door after the older man was gone, leaving you and him alone.
"Did he hurt you?" Charles cupped on your face, heaving a sigh of relief when there wasn’t anything serious as you shook your head at his question.
Charles wanted to ask a lot of questions, but you were still shaken up by the whole thing, so he grabbed you by your hand as both of you settled down on the couch.
"You can leave, Charles. I’m sorry for ruining your night."
"It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. And who said the date was ruined? Adam told me you love pizza, so are you up for a pizza night?" He found himself grinning when he saw that little smile on your beautiful face.
It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date; instead, you were sitting on the couch with a box of pizza while watching a Disney movie. Charles had to pick out the pineapple on every slice of pizza and vocally judged you on your preference because there was no way he could eat a pizza with a pineapple together.
But it was a very fun night. It was enough to make you completely forget what had happened earlier, but enough to not make the day all about that.
"Y/N, can I ask something?" He picked out another pineapple, trying so hard not to make a disgusted face, which made you laugh.
"Is this about what happened?" You confirmed.
"Yeah, but if you don’t feel comfortable answering, then it’s fine." Charles took a bite of his now pineapple-free pizza.
"No, it’s okay. You can ask." You collected the pineapple he picked off and ate it on its own.
"How long?"
"How long has it been since he did that? It was on and off. If he got a new girlfriend, he would stop coming by for a couple of months." You saw the look he had on you, and it made you feel sad at how bad your life has turned out to be.
"You didn’t report to the police?"
"I did, but I never got any further updates. I even tried to move away, but he always managed to find me back. Which is why I’m always happy whenever I have to travel for work. That way, he won’t be able to ruin my life, and Adam could live his life as a child without having to worry about me." You looked away as you started to clean up the empty box as an excuse so you wouldn’t have to look at his face any longer or you would be crying again.
"I’ll see what I can do. It’s about time for the authority to take action about this. I promise I’ll help you."
"Thank you, Charles. I owe you a lot. I really don’t know how to pay you back." You beamed and dipped your hand in the small box.
"You still owe me a proper date?"
"Fine, make it the second date. Do you want candy?" You handed him one as you popped one in your mouth.
"Ah!" Charles blurted it out, making you jump. "How could I miss this?" He took the sour candy and burst out laughing. It was the same candy that he had been getting from Adam way before he found out he was related to you. "Adam had been stealing your sour candies all this time to share them with me."
"Really?" You laughed along, connecting the dots as to why your candy seemed to be way less than it should have been.
"Guess I love sour candies now." He threw one into his mouth and shivered at the sourness.
✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision
If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!
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mahoushojoe · 8 months
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israel has just bombed al-ahli hospital in gaza, instantly murdering more than 500 people. these were wounded, children, doctors, and people seeking safety and shelter. instant and deliberate murder.
every single zionist is complicit in this genocide. every single israeli politician and soldier and everyone who has ever helped them has blood on their hands. every single journalist and every single person who spread news about "50 beheaded babies" and "they're raping the women" and "hamas uses human shields" and "global day of jihad" is complicit in this murder, including everyone who stayed silent.
i never, ever, want to hear a peep about palestinian retaliatory action ever again.
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readychilledwine · 4 months
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Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.
( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)
Here Without You
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Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.
Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating
A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.
*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*
💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙
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You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.
Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.
You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.
The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.
Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.
You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.
You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.
You were alone.
And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.
The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-
You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.
This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.
Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"
You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."
Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.
You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.
It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.
"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"
You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."
Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.
"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"
"Lucien and Tamlin."
Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"
"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."
He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.
Your bed had never felt so soft.
Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.
His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.
Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.
But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.
Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.
But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.
The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.
The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.
The look of a father mourning lost time.
Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.
"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"
Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."
Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.
If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-
The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."
An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"
Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."
Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"
"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"
Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."
Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."
Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.
Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.
Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."
Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"
"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."
Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.
"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."
Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.
He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.
You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.
He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."
You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.
Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."
He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."
"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"
Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."
He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."
"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.
It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."
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@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.
My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.
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@elle4404
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diejager · 2 months
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Please, I need a continuation of the story of !kidnapper Krueger and Nikto! Please!!
New Neighbours Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, obsession, non-con touching, condescension, manhandling, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1k Boy, it been a fat minute since I wrote that small Drabble.
There was a knock at the door, three blunt and powerful hits of sturdy knuckles shaking your door with how strong - you presumed - the person was. Dropping whatever you were working on, you walked to the door and peering through the peep hole, shocked to see the familiar black and khaki fabrics of your new neighbour. You’ve seen them once or twice in the month between their first move and today, the grizzly look and scarred skin of a brash-toned and brutish man you came to know him as from the few times you met him. He would stare at you, wide, owlish gazes that left you shuddering from the gleam in his brown eyes, a deep-seated darkness as he… appraised you. 
He called himself Sebastian, presenting himself one night when you were stumbling home from a tiring day at work, stopping to help you up the stairs since his door was right across from you. You thought he lived alone, but was surprised to see another man, covered from head to toe in black and army green, hiding any identifiable feather apart from his pale, blue eyes and his broad shoulders, big and bulky even in his skin tight clothes. Sebastian’s roommate had only stared at you, unblinking and unmoving, seconds spent gazing at your anxious and uncomfortable form, messing with your sleeve while Sebastian helped you moved the bags to your kitchen table. 
If you thought Sebastian the weird one, then Nikto - he was spoken for - was the odd one, a fierce man that only knew how to stare silently to upset whatever and whoever he was glaring at. You only saw him once, and that was a blurry and tired view of him from the open doorway across yours when Sebastian was helping you. You had little to go on for him, being more familiar to his roommate and occasionally exchanging a few words when you crossed path —though rarely, the seemingly never left their home.
“Hey, Sebastian,” you tilted your head in greeting, opening your door only wide enough to pop your head out and kept a hand firmly wrapped around the knob in case he did something. You’d always been cautious, and Sebastian and Niktowere suspicious men, “How can I help you?”
“Ja, I need help with something,” his soft, yet brash tone made his accent more apparent, something small but attractive despite your apprehension towards him, “A woman’s touch.”
A woman’s touch? You didn’t know what he meant exactly, but when you looked down to his thick and crooked fingers - perhaps from his work, broken and reset too many times that it started to heal crooked - you could guess what he implied. Your fingers were smaller, lither than his with fat on your knuckles and smaller palms, it made working through small and complex affairs easier. Despite your understanding, you grew uneasy, squinting at him from the safety of your door, but Sebastian was nothing if not determined. So you nodded, excusing yourself to change your clothes from a small top and shorts for a t-shirt and sweatpants before you met him at his entrance, locking your door behind you.
This was your first look into the world they lived in, a bare and minimalist home, scantly decorated apart from the few vests and- was that a gun? And knives littering the kitchen counter with other dangerous items… Seemingly aware of your fright, Sebastian explained how he and Nikto were private contractors, working for a PMC, a private military company, and that they were just on leave, but would always be ready for a call back. Shaking off your paranoia, you followed him deeper into the kitchen, seeing the machinery littered on the table and beside it sat Nikto, ramrod and tense in his seat.
“женщина,” he growled out, his voice so raspy and low that you wondered if it hurt to speak a single word. [Woman]
“Nikto,” you returned, following Sebastian to the table and ignoring Nikto’s wide stare, his vacant eyes and lingering gaze, roving over your body and obsessively admiring you like a hunter would, “Is this what you needed help with?”
Sebastian showed you what he needed, explaining where each small piece went into the box, guiding you around the confusion machinery while Nikto watched, a sentinel in his own flat. You were so engrossed into fixing this small box, brows pinched with concentration get this thing fixed as quick as possible to return to the safety of your apartment, that you missed Nikto’s silent stalk towards you, his broad and silent figure looming over your unsuspecting form until a rough hand gripped your hip. 
You jumped, dropping the box and turned your head to gawk at Nikto, looking back at his - still - vacant eyes and wide and hungry glint. Frowning at him, you sunk your fingers into his hand, trying to move an unmovable wall that pushed himself against you, backing you into the table until he bent you over the now broken box you were first invited to fix. You struggled against Nikto, growling out a warning and clawed at his covered forearms, but it only riled him up. Sebastian stood and watched with a perverted eagerness as Nikto rutted against you, holding you down by the nape, scruffing you like you would a misbehaving dog. 
“Get off me!” You yowled, reaching back with your arms, trying to elbow a man you knew you wouldn’t be able to forcefully remove with how built and big he was, “Get off me, Nikto!”
“Shut up,” you could hear his bared teeth, the cold and condescending tone of his rasp, sliding his knee between your kicking legs, your feet arbitrarily hitting the air, “Stop struggling and listen.”
A low rumble left the man before you, your glare meeting the Austrian who found this situation funny, his chuckle slow and mirthful, finding enjoyment in your useless struggle and hissing. 
“I would listen to him, Schnuckel, ” he lowered himself to show the eagerness in his dark eyes, a cruel smirk curling the corners of his lips and a teasing tilt of his head, “Be good for us, nicht?”
You shouldn’t have accepted to help him, you should have listened to your gut feeling, but you have no one else to blame expect yourself.
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fryingpan1234567 · 1 year
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some CHB headcanons
every cabin has LEDs around the inside, but there’s a constant battle over what color they are
Percy has his rippling back and forth from teal to blue and it looks like light dancing through water all over his walls and floor
the Apollo cabin can usually settle for orange and yellow as a common ground
the Aphrodite kids have a different color for each time of day and sleep with pink on the lowest brightness setting
the Hermes cabin has like ten different strips and they’re all constantly shifting
Demeter cabin’s shifts with the seasons
ANYWAYS MOVING AWAY FROM THE LEDS
they have movie nights, which I will talk about in a different post
before everybody goes back to school, the Aphrodite and Hecate cabins have a massive salon at the end of the summer with new haircuts and magic hair dye and outfit recommendations and fake but enchanted sturdy nails and a whole bunch of other stuff and basically it’s a week straight of spilling hot tea between everyone in camp
if someone asks where a camper got their hair done when they get back to school they just go “oh, um… summer camp.” and their friends will snort and be like bro isn’t summer camp the opposite of a makeover?? but they get no argument, just a shrug and a half smile
when I tell you pride month over there is a fucking riot
because Mr. D is in on it, right?? because he’s the god of gender?? and Chiron is aroace and has been raising dumbass gay heroes for literal centuries?? PLUS the sheer fucking amount of queer peeps up in there?? dude yeah
cabins competing for who shows the most pride
Demeter’s roof is covered in rainbow flowers
Hecate’s is enchanted to emit actual light in whatever flag colors of whoever uses the front door, even when they’re straight (it’s just a rainbow)
Percy collects a bunch of shed scales from the hippocampi at the bottom of the lake and then puts them all over his cabin
I could make a whole post about CHB pride but
every single Apollo kid is also a theater kid fight me
Rachel Elizabeth Dare painted a skateboard for Percy’s birthday and he brings it everywhere now, it even sits in his backpack at school
Leo, Annabeth, Percy, and Piper fucking love horror movies. Frank, Hazel, and Jason fucking hate them. They watch through their fingers, if at all
Piper loves the band Surfaces with all her heart, but she also is a die hard Green Day and P!ATD fan
Jake Mason is covered in burn scars up to his neck, just like Deadpool, just not bald lol
Hephaestus and Apollo kids faintly radiate warmth (like more so than a normal person)
the Stolls sometimes stay at camp year-round because their mom is off on international missions that are too high-risk for them to help with
the seven are AVID Smash Bros players
really everyone but
not as many people go to the Athena campers for help with homework as you might think, but whenever anyone does, they’re happy to help
the sun chariot blasts music at a frequency only the Apollo kids can hear, so their life kind of has a shitty soundtrack that consists of a mix of Broadway, Queen, modern stuff, and random bits of Beethoven every now and then
the Romans swear on few occasions
the Greeks know when to swear and when to be polite
the Valhalla peeps swear unbridled and all the time
the Egyptians never swear (in English)
for the longest time, Will Solace thinks the only gift from his dad is his healing prowess— which is obviously great, but he expresses being upset over the fact that he’s not very good at archery
well, considering this is the dumbass who didn’t bring a weapon to actual fucking Tartarus, Nico drags him to the weapon shack thing immediately afterwards and made him pick something out
he's immediately drawn to the Celestial Bronze shotgun.
Nico’s just like “what in the redneck shit did you just pick up” and Will jokingly aims it at his chest and grins and says “you know I’m from Texas, right?”
that’s how they find out Will is one of the damn best marksmen in Greek demigod history
some of the Disney nerds in the Apollo cabin sing What Once Was Mine to the little ones who need bandaids for knee scrapes and give them lollipops afterwards
Percy Jackson absolutely used to make poverty and struggle meal jokes all the time, but he got weird and concerned looks for it at CHB, so he kind of just stopped. But one day, aboard the Argo II, the PERFECT opportunity came up and he just HAD TO and as per usual— everyone else looked at him like he’s crazy— but Leo laughed so hard chocolate milk came out of his nose and that’s the story of how the two of them became Best Friends
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skelliko · 4 months
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Tokyo revengers |°- sudden first kiss
๑-featuring: kazutora, chifuyu, Baji, Inui, rindou
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°- kazutora hanemiya
• sometimes you both get playful with each other, playful insults or sarcasm, playful acts that consist of annoying each other in so many ways, or playfully fighting with each other that always result in either one of you tickling the other or falling over each other till one of you is pinned on the ground. though usually that play fighting is done indoors.
• today was supposed to be a day where the both of you simply relax a little due to running from certain people that had to be avoided. but nope, you had a little different plan because how could you resist being a little nuisance to try and feel better about the situation you're both in, and what other way to do that than by having a little play fight?
• sure kazutora has a higher winning streak but it still causes some laughter and energy. though when he had you pinned with your back on the floor, the eye contact that you both had held was new, well no, but the thoughts behind kazutora's mind was new leading to the eye contact feeling odd.
• his hands that held your wrists down, he loosened his grip by a lot in a way that if you wanted to leave you could, easily. he didn't say anything but the silence spoke for itself after when he leaned his face down and carefully connected his lips to yours.
°- Chifuyu matsuno
• he knows about some people that like to put you down and make you feel miserable, he takes consideration into that and always tries to soothe you in hopes of making you feel better whenever some piece of shit likes to mess with you. he hasn't done anything to them because when chifuyu stated multiple of times that he'll beat respect into them you always tried to make him drop the whole idea. despite him wanting to so bad, he still listened to your request and kept his fists hidden in his pockets when walking past the people.
• he was rarely present whenever they would say something to you but when he was he'd throw snarks at them and make them shut up using words, however today was different. he couldn't stand it no more so once a single peep came out of one of the dudes aiming at you it make chifuyu tick.
• throwing a punch right across his face to make sure he bites down on his words but it of course caused a fight between chifuyu and the small group. he won with a few bruises here and there but that was to be expected, what wasn't was what he did after.
• before you can even utter the words 'are you okay?!' or even make sure that Chifuyu is okay or maybe even scold him a little at the end, he takes hold of your face with both hands carefully and presses a kiss onto your lips.
°- Keisuke baji
• sometimes his fights with other gangs get out of hand, and I dont mean just a broken bone or some bloody scabs but i mean it as in his life could be on the line. which is always considered when taking part in a gang fight.
• you're the one who he thinks about whenever he goes off to break people's noses, oddly enough. you're the one that has made him to be more cautious and careful when fighting, making sure he gets out still standing to see your smile.
• though something didn't sit right with him before going to join the group, you were on his mind but it felt like he had to do or say something to you. you knew of the fight but was that really all you had to know? Keisuke being alone, pondered a little standing stuck in the middle of a pathway when he was on his way to meet his group.
• it was like a small adrenaline rush, not just because of the events that will play out soon but because you give him energy without even being there. motivation.
• he ran in the direction of where you live without wasting any more time and knocked on your door, hoping that you answer soon. once he saw the door open and you appear, he took a second or two to think but without wanting to stay silent too long his next decision was to invade your personal space, slide a hand behind your upper back to support you and lean in to connect your lips together. a kiss before battle.
°- seishu Inui
• he'd usually end a day off with some minor teasing after hanging out, either by trying to make you blush and shy away or seeing how bold you can get. though a lot of the time those teasings are him annoying you with little harmless acts.
• he'd try and inconvenience you in the most minor ways like misplacing something or taking your pens and pencils and having you to earn your way in getting them back which could be done by saying 'please' after being told to or be sneaky and catch him off guard. he sometimes likes games like that.
• though in this particular time he decided to take advantage of his height and snatch something off from your hands making you try and reach for it, getting all close to him with both arms in the air but he keeps moving the item from one hand to the other and left to right and down and up making you to lose eyesight on the item for a second but by the time you try to reach for it inui moved his arm back up into the air.
• and then he kissed you. while you were getting so close to him in hopes of reaching for the item he couldn't help but focus on your face and those lips. his mind was completely blank when he suddenly leaned in but his heart knew what he secretly wanted.
°- rindou haitani
• usually he's good at maintaining his jealousy, sure he feels it often but he's able to die it down knowing that there's full trust between you two
• however, this time it was a little different. what would one do if they were on their way to meet their date and at the meeting spot they see the date having, by what appears to be, a lovely conversation with 3 young gentleman?
• okay, for most it may be a big deal, but for some it's a 'sure whatever, let me just go over there and move on'. in rindou's case it's both. he knew he shouldn't worry much, to start off there's three guys, not that many groups are willing to all try and hit on the same girl. and what if his date actually knows the guys as mutuals? nah that one ain't right, cross that point out because one of the guys is getting way too close for his liking.
• so rindou did the first thing that came to his mind. to go right over there, slide his sneaky and quick hands around your waist and kiss you right there and then in front of the guys, lips to lips.
• serves the group to try and think that someone as pretty as you to be single.
 ♡----
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lemotmo · 20 days
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Time for some Buddie fandom positivity!
Okay Buddie fam, the last couple of weeks have really been tough for the fandom, but we're still here thriving. After all the toxicity and discourse, I think it's time to focus on the good things, all things Buddie.
I am, at this point, 100% certain that Buddie is in the works. There are a million different reasons why I am so convinced.
Here's the beginning of a list:
The pre-season Ryan and Oliver interviews where they were completely unhinged and talked so freely about Buddie.
Buck was made canonically bisexual in one single episode.
Buck's current love interest has almost no screen time, which really doubles down on the whole 'they needed a way to out Buck as bi, so they quickly brought in Tommy to fullfill that goal.'
There were talks to make Eddie queer (with Tommy).
Eddie keeps being intertwined in Buck's new romance. He is there all the time and very consistently. Even when he isn't there in body, he is there in the dialogue. To the point where the audience has picked up on it.
Maddie knows! Her 'If there is something you need to tell Eddie' convo was so interesting.
The way Buck is consistently shown as a second father to Christophere, in body and in dialogue. First he talks with Chris about Shannon and then he is also involved in his new romance with Tommy.
Both Oliver and Ryan keep getting questions about Buddie in interviews. They love answering these questions and their grins are alway so wide. It's obvious they talked about it with Tim as well at some point, because their answers are clearly rehearsed. They have been told how to navigate these questions, in order to gently introduce the idea of Buddie to the general audience. I mean, the whole 'We're open to it! Whatever happens happens!' basically screams that they are going there.
The many articles about Buddie. The interest is crazy at this point. I love it!
Buck's new romance is almost never talked about, except in the whole narrative when they talk about bisexual Buck. For the rest it's all Buddie.
The questions to these interviews are pre-approved by ABC and show runners. So the fact that they get asked all the time and they are allowed these very open answers? Very interesting!
There has been no PR around Buck's romance with Tommy. No joined interview with Oliver and Lou, no photoshoots... nothing, nada, crickets. Just Oliver repeating he would like Buck to stay friends with Tommy after they break up. I mean...
...
I'm sure there are soooo many more things that indicate that the show is finally going the Buddie-route. I just can't remember all of them. :)
So I invite all of you Buddie peeps to reblog this post to fill in any other things you want to add to the list. Feel free to add it in the main body of the reblog or even leave things in the tags. If you don't want to reblog, just leave it in the comments of this post.
Let's create and spread some Buddie positivity here. I think we can all use some of that right now.
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nolita-fairytale · 11 months
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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one
summary: leaving your old life behind, you move to copenhagen to follow your dream of opening a restaurant. almost a year after opening, luca's quest for inspiration brings him right to your doorstep.
warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.
word count: 2500
a/n: remember when i said we'd get pastry chef luca fanfic whether we liked it or not? well, it seems i can't be normal about anything bc i have an outline of (potentially) 10 chapters right now based on this headcanon. while i try to keep reader characters pretty neutral so that you can picture yourself, i have this reader creating food from her own life experiences/cultures so do what you will with that. also, i tagged some peeps from my headcanon post, but please let me know if you'd like to be removed.
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masterlist | part two
He’s in search of inspiration when he finds the restaurant – your restaurant. 
It’s an American stagiaire and a single conversation that makes him realize that he’s missing something – that he’s been in need of something fresh, a new perspective– setting him on his quest. 
The best things are inspired. 
Luca stares at a blank piece of paper for what feels like hours, writing a few things down, sketching up an idea, before viciously crossing them out, hopelessly stuck on new ideas for the new menu. After a few half-baked ideas that go nowhere, It occurs to him that he may be in need of a little inspiration himself. He can’t think of the last time he’s taken his own advice, mulling over the carefully-chosen words of wisdom imparted to Marcus a couple of weeks ago, and he’s determined to change that. 
A review in the paper, an old colleague’s recent trip there, and a glowing recommendation from a close friend are what bring him to the restaurant. 
He’s not sure what to expect – having forgone any interest in cuisine described with the words trendy or fusion a long time ago – but Luca reminds himself that it’s the writer’s word choice, not the chef’s, when writing the article. 
When Luca steps into the small home-turned-restaurant, he’s immediately inundated with a warmth, a homeyness, that takes him by surprise. From the open kitchen, to the golden lighting, it feels vastly different from the classic Danish-style, fine dining establishments that have swept the country. 
But Luca reminds himself that the announcement of noma’s 2024 closure, has shifted the conversation around dining culture in Denmark, and already, he can feel that this is the breath of fresh air that he’s been looking for. 
Luca’s seated quickly with care and hospitality by a highly-attentive host, which he only assumes is a symptom of the fact that he read somewhere that you’re an American. While Danish, the host is boisterous, as if he’s known Luca since childhood. Luca smiles politely in response, graciously thanking the man and his chocolate brown curls. 
The menu is small, indicating that each dish receives enough care to be excellent and he likes that, despite being described as trendy and fusion-focused, your menu is creative. It’s different. It’s inspired. 
He chooses the special of the day: the mapo tofu bolognese – a traditionally Italian concept done from an Asian perspective – and the suggested wine pairing.
It doesn’t take long for him to receive his glass of wine, or his food, and he’s pleasantly surprised by how efficient service seems. Stealing glances through the open kitchen, he watches as you and your sous lead dinner service with a kind of compassionate leadership and playfulness that warms him from the inside out. 
“We recommend mixing the whipped tofu into the dish for a creamier sauce. Skal,” his waitress greets, with a warm smile on her face as she sets down the bowl of noodles. 
“Cheers,” Luca replies, his eyes savoring every single detail of the dish. 
It’s somehow elevated, thoughtful, and elegant, yet comforting all at once. 
Luca picks up his fork, using it to collect a little bit of everything – a perfect noodle twirl with just enough sauce, and ground pork before running his fork the whipped topping – raising the fork to his lips for his first bite. 
As the flavors hit his tongue, he closes his eyes, and it’s as if time has stopped, just for a moment. 
The wheat noodles are perfectly al dente while the whipped tofu is almost ricotta-like, transforming into a silky smooth addition to the dish, cutting the tingle and heat of the Sichuan chili peppercorn-based sauce. 
The corners of his lips turn up as he takes a breath, opening his eyes as he savors the delicate layers of flavors. With a crooked smile on his face, he decides that he’ll most certainly be back next week. 
-------------------------------
You make peace with the fact that tonight is one of those nights – a slow night – as you finish washing your hands. It being a slow night, you’d encouraged your staff to up the hospitality at the pre-shift meeting. Treating guests with the utmost personal touches in an effort to build genuine connections would be the focus of tonight’s slow service. In fact, you and Mathilde, your sous chef, had been running dishes out this evening – something you rarely had the luxury to do. 
“You should go say hello,” your sous encourages, nodding towards the dining room through the expansive window of the open kitchen. 
“Thought it was your turn,” you reply in a casual tone, paying no attention to who she’s referencing.
“No, I think you should take this one,” Mathilde nudges you, causing you to look up. You shoot her a funny look, your eyes flickering over the mischievous expression she has on her face, to where she’s gestured towards. 
“To-?” you begin to ask, before seeing exactly who she’s talking about.
“Ehm. Tall, blonde, and tatted!” she emphasizes in a whisper yell. 
You don’t really need the description as you glance over at the dining room, easily spotting the man seated at a two-seater near the front window.
“You’re right. He’s become a bit of a regular,” you agree with a curt nod that means all business, no pleasure, as you move a few things as you walk and talk around the kitchen, tidying up.
“That’s not what I meant,” she scoffs with a playful eye roll. 
“You know, Jesper thought he was Swedish because… look at him… but he’s apparently a Brit,” she gossips with you, her eyes stealing a glance his way. “We’re slow tonight. He’s here every week. Sure he’d appreciate a direct thank you from the chef!” 
“I-,” you hesitate, wondering why she’s so damn insistent on this. “... yeah, alright. I’ll go.”
“That’s my girl!” Mathilde cheers, in a sing-song voice, she hands you the beautifully plated bowl of pasta to take out to the dining room.
As you walk over towards his table, you make a note that it seems as if the mystery man has made this a bit of a routine. He shows every Saturday at exactly 7 pm, week after week, for the past month or so, as if it’s a standing date he has with himself. After his first visit, you half-expected him to bring a date when he returned, or bring a group of friends, or for something different to happen. 
But it hadn’t and you’ve watched him come in, week after week, with a different book each time. He always orders the special of the day and whatever suggested wine pairing Jesper’s recommended that week.
Most Saturday nights you're busy leading a kitchen or cooking on the line – having little to no time to fixate or wonder curiously over your weekly diner – but tonight’s pace affords you the luxury to spend more time at the front of house. Truthfully, you know it’s the thing that sets you apart. Sure, the hospitality here in Copenhagen is excellent, but you bring an American hospitality-style to this restaurant – and above and beyond mentality – that feels welcoming, personal, even, as if your restaurant itself is just an extension of your home. 
You’ve heard your staff – front of house and back of house – whispering about him, all seemingly enamored and enchanted by the charming Brit. All any of you knew about him was that his name was Luca and that he’s always more than kind to your front of house staff. 
He doesn’t say much when he comes in, you’ve noticed, but every Saturday at 7 pm, he’s pushing his way through the front door with punctuality and a gentle ease.
The whisperings from your staff had all revolved around who your mysterious regular must be: whether he was Danish or Swedish, that someone that good looking must already have a partner, that he doesn’t wear a ring. 
You hadn’t paid much attention to the gossip (or at least that’s what you’ve told yourself) more focused on running dinner service then trying to piece together the story of your handsome, mysterious regular. 
“Hello,” you greet him warmly. “I just wanted to come introduce myself and say thank you for becoming one of our regulars. Your support means a lot to all of us.”
“Hi, I’m Luca.”
You share your name with a smile as he shakes your hand. 
Luca turns his attention down to the bowl you’ve put in front of him, his eyes taking in the beautiful presentation hungrily. 
“Wow, this looks… incredible,” he marvels, returning his gaze back to you. 
“Thank you. I’m sure my front of house already walked you through this but if you’d like for me to-,” you begin. 
“Yes, that’d be great, thanks,” he interjects, a crooked smile on his face that makes your heart skip a beat. 
You have to pull your attention away from him, hoping he doesn’t notice that you’re quite possibly gawking at him. 
He’s kind, charming, and he’s easy on the eyes (easy on the eyes, really being an understatement here).
“Today’s special was inspired by a childhood favorite of mine,” you begin, walking him through each component of the dish. 
Crispy Rice. Caramelized marinated trumpet mushrooms and charred broccolini. Your mom’s sauce approached with classic French techniques, courtesy of your sous, Mathilde, a classically French-trained chef. 
It’s a marriage of your story. Of the people around you. It’s your heart and theirs, put into a dish. 
“You’re the chef?” he asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. 
“Yes,” you answer, trying your best to get a read on him. 
He balks, and you’re unsure of how you’re supposed to respond. Was he surprised that you’re a woman? That he’s been eating your food the whole time and expected a male chef? Before you can overthink it, Luca clarifies with:
“I’m sorry. It’s just-, I can't think of the last time I saw a head chef work front of house, let alone with this much care.” 
Oh. 
You let down your guard, wondering why you’d assumed the worst when the man’s been nothing but kind to you and your staff so far. 
"We're a little short staffed tonight. And I love getting to talk to diners… especially on nights like this,” you explain, trying your best to sound like you hadn’t just assumed that he was a sexist asshole. 
He shakes his head in disbelief, looking down at the picturesque bowl, then back to you.
Luca is impressed, and he has no intention of hiding it.
He picks up his wine glass by the stem, raising it to you.
"Cheers,” he says. “And thank you. This is a really beautiful dish.”
“Of course. Enjoy,” you reply, giving him a polite smile, before heading back into the kitchen. 
 -------------------------------
“Good service tonight, everybody!” Jesper, your front of house manager, announces while clapping a few times to signal to staff that it’s time for a post shift meeting. 
As you all gather in the pristine front of house space. Some of your cooks have taken their aprons off, others haven’t had a moment to unwind from the shift yet – business picking up in the last hour or so of service. 
Jesper goes through his nightly wrap-up notes, celebrating the wins of tonight, and making sure to celebrate how everyone rallied to pick up pace when business spiked. He’s gregarious, larger-than-life, the kind of person who can talk to anyone about anything, making him an excellent front of house manager, and even better sommelier. You really lucked out with the twins, you think to yourself – with Jesper and Mathilde – when they were more than eager to work with you on opening this restaurant. 
“Oh, and before we go, a client left a gift… table number four,” Jesper says, in reference to Luca’s table. He pulls a tan-colored pastry box from another table, setting it down on a table where everyone can take a look. 
“As a thank you. He requested for me to share. So have it and let’s make a note next time he’s in to really treat him like a VIP.”
One of your most-talented servers opens the box, eliciting a chorus of gasps, giggles, and excited whispers as soon as the assortment of croissants and pastries are revealed. 
You and Mathilde exchange a look as everyone else busy themselves with unpacking the pastry box. Mathilde raises an eyebrow and you’re not sure what to say. Witnessing your silent exchange, Jesper makes his way over to the both of you, before extending his arm to reveal the card he’s holding. 
“And this, my dear…” he begins, exchanging a look with his sister. “...is for you.”
“What do you-, just me?” you ask as you take it, hesitantly. 
“I think so, yeah,” he nods, confidently. 
To the Chef, the front of the card reads. 
“Jesper, let’s check out some of these pastries, yeah?” Mathilde suggests, not so subtly hinting towards her brother. 
He nods, giving you a little space so that you can read the card Luca’s left for you. 
As your staff divvy up the box of laminated pastries, sighing with joy as they taste the decadent, hand-crafted sweets, you take a few steps away to open the note. His handwriting is pristine – perfectly neat in every way, like he’s written over carefully measured invisible lines.
Chef,
Thank you for all of the great meals. I'd like to return the favor, that is, if you're open to it. 
Tomorrow. 5 pm. Dronningens Tværgade 2, 1302
While Luca’s gift has been more-than-generous, you find yourself overwhelmed by questions. Was he a chef too? And why had he not said anything? And what was this gesture all about anyways?
You read the card a few more times, turning the words over in your head as you try to make sense of it. 
Mathilde can see your overwhelm, your eyebrows knitted into one confused expression as she saunters back over to you.
“What does it say?” she asks, curiously. “A love confession perhaps?”
“Mathilde, you really have to stop reading all of those French romance novels!” you tease her. “It’s giving you too many ideas.”
“It’s the only way I keep up with my French!” she defends herself with a lackadaisical shrug, earning a laugh from you.
“Uh no… it’s actually a thank you card… only I think he… wants to feed me,” you share with her, holding the card out so that she can take a look. 
“He’s a chef too?” she asks, taking the card from your hands. 
“I think so, yeah,” you reply, letting out an exasperated laugh. 
“Oh shit!” Mathilde exclaims, as soon as she sees the address that Luca’s written down. 
“What?” you ask her, wondering if there’s something you missed. 
“The address… that’s AOC. I think he’s a chef at AOC, babe,” she gasps, shaking her head as she hands the card back to you, sending a ‘you lucky, bitch’ look your way.
Oh shit, is right.
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