get his ass ! | lando norris/the grid x fem! reader
summary: y/n was loved among the grid, quickly gaining the title of ‘the mother of the grid’ due to her motherly nature. but when a famous football player says he’d like to take her on a date in an interview, the boys are quick to defend her.
fc; maria isabel
warnings; kinda suggestive pics , curse words
notes; requested! this came later than expected lol, been super tired after a long road trip and was out all day w poor connection😩🥲 don’t mind my lil football reference 🤭🤭 also second pic of the interview was meant to say pretty at the end but it was called off lol😞
masterlist !
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 940,038 others!
yourusername: pov: single mother after a day full of chasing and taking care of her 5 grown children on the paddock
tagged; landonorris, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, logansargeant, georgerussell63
username: MOTHER IS BACK ON THE PADDOCK
username: i want u fr
landonorris: ‘single mother’ who am i then?😕
yourusername: a grown child who asks me to ‘pretty please’ wipe the grease off of his pizza😁
landonorris: it was disgustingly greasy…🤢
username: LMFAOOAOAO
username: a single mom who works 2 jobs who loves her kids
yourusername: they get on my nerves all the time but i love my grown children 💓
logansargeant: sorry mom
yourusername: you and osc are an exception
alex_albon: oh, wow!
oscarpiastri: 😁
georgerussell63: you trying to say something, y/n….
yourusername: yeah give me carmen
carmenmmundt: i agree!
georgerussell63: wait-
username: you need to open a youtube channel!
username: your fit on the paddock ate today 😩
username: the picture of alex and logan w the snake 😭😭😭😭
username: can always count on y/n for content
yourusername posted to their story!
[caption 1; baby’s nap time 😴] [caption 2; taking my sons out for lunch 🫶🫶] [caption 3; my new child, surprise! it’s a boy!💙]
Jude Bellingham answers your fan questions!
liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 1,503,028 others!
landonorris: all mine.
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: lando norris…. i thought you’d post this on your jpg account…
landonorris: nope😁
yourusername: could’ve been worse thank u
yourusername: all yours. forever. 🫶
landonorris: always.
username: so y’all saw jude’s interview too…
username: caption was 100% aimed a jude
alex_albon: can i tag him pls
yourusername: no.
landonorris: yes!
yourusername: no or i won’t take you to get kbbq tmrw
alex_albon: sorry lando
username: alex’s comment😭
username: oh wow
username: the 2nd, 4th, n last pic🥴🥴🥴🥴
username: their relationship isn’t a want it’s a NEED
logansargeant: oh!
yourusername: look away pls😞😔
landonorris: no keep looking so you and every other athlete knows she’s mine 😁
username: jealous lando omg 😵💫😵💫
maxverstappen1: take that tap in merchant!
carlossainz55: yeah and he won against you guys! put some respect on his name 🙄
yourusername: my football rivalry sons…
landonorris: no i agree w max
username: not the culers and merengues of f1 fighting 😭😭
georgerussell63: my eyes!😰😰😰😰
georgerussell63: but that serves him right! y/n is a taken lady!
username: red is HER color, no one can wear read
username: the fit is everything 😍😍
username: need someone to recreate the last pic w 😖😖😣😣
oscarpiastri: i really had to stop lando from posting more exposing pictures, you’re welcome btw mother
landonorris: i had plenty of other ones to choose from…
yourusername: thank u osc😭
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Pretty Boy
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Robin brings the boys to help move her cousin and you mistake Eddie for Steve at first.
Word Count: 1940
Eddie Masterlist
You’re Robin’s cousin and that means that you just have the best damn cousin anyone could ask for. She’s not just your cousin but also your best friend, the two of you have always been two peas in a pod. When either of you were visiting the other you were basically attached at the hip and you’d call each other almost every night and be on the phone until one of your parents told you to get off. So when your dad got offered a job a few states away he was worried how you would take it because you’d be so much farther away from her than just a thirty minute drive.
When he did tell you about the job offer your main worry was college. You knew you and Robin would still talk everyday but you were already enrolled in your current school and working towards your degree. You told him you could see if you could move to the dorms last minute but since he also went there he knew you wouldn’t be able to. So after a phone call to your mom's brother you were moving in with Robin and you couldn’t be happier.
Robin brings the boys with her to pick you up because Eddie’s van would come in handy in a way Steve’s BMW wouldn’t. And she really wanted you to meet Steve and vice versa. She’s told you all about pretty boy Steve Harrington and how he’s her best friend who isn’t related to her along with everything they’ve been through together. She was hoping to possibly play matchmaker because she’s tired of Steve pining after Nancy and you haven’t had a relationship since your ex broke your heart.
“Oh thank god!” Robin exclaims as they finally pull up in front of your house. “You know you two suck for road trips. Remind me to never do this again.” Eddie and Steve had basically been arguing about music the whole second half of the trip. “I mean seriously you couldn’t not be annoying with each other for a full thirty minutes.” Robin rushes out of the van and up to your front door as soon as Eddie opens the back doors for her. She basically vibrates with excitement as she makes it up the walkway. Her uncle opens the door shortly after she knocks.
“Hey Robin, Robin’s friends. Y/n’s up in her room finishing up packing if you wanna head up.”
“Thanks Uncle Jay. C’mon boys hurry up!”
“Robin!” You squeal and tackle her into a hug as soon as she opens your door.
“Hey there cuz.” She laughs as she returns the hug completely. “Are you ready to move in with your favorite person ever?”
“I can’t believe I get to live with you. I’m so excited to be able to hang out everyday. I’ve been packed for the last few days. Like I literally packed up everything but my bed stuff and some clothes three days ago and even then I’ve been slowly packing up my blankets and pillows. I slept with just one pillow and one of the couch blankets last night. But now everything is packed away and I’m ready to go.”
“Wow, she’s even got the Buckley ramble.” Steve’s voice brings your attention away from your cousin and to the two men standing in your doorway.
“Hi! I’m Y/n.” You walk up and offer your hand to Eddie. “You must be Steve. It’s great to finally meet you, Robins told me so much about you!”
“Apparently not enough darlin’. I’m Eddie, one of Robin’s newer friends.” And your face heats up at the mistake while Steve silently scoffs over someone thinking Eddie was him.
“So then you’re Steve?” You tilt your head as you look him up and down taking him all in. “I guess I see it.”
“See what?”
“Well I mean Robins always referring to you as Steve ‘the hair’ Harrinton or pretty boy Steve. And I get it, you’re pretty and all but honestly I think Eddie might just be the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. So he’s so much prettier than you, and he has a lot more hair so I just figured he was Steve.” At this Robin lets out the laugh she’s been holding in while Eddie’s face goes red and a smile appears on his face. He’ll never let Steve live this down.
“Sorry Steve, did I mention she doesn’t really have a filter?” She’ll have to throw out the idea of playing matchmaker with you and Steve now with how Eddie’s looking at you like you just lit up his whole world with that statement. But maybe she could play it with you two. “Alright grab some boxes and let's go dinguses.”
“So you’re the metal head then right?” You ask Eddie as the two of you make your way out of the house boxes stacked in your hands.
“Yeah, I guess that’d be me. Did Robin say anything about me?”
“Umm,” You start to try to think about what she would’ve told you about Eddie.
“It’s alright if she didn’t, we really haven’t been friends for that long.”
“No, no she did tell me some stuff. You’re in a band right? Oh what was it called? I remember telling her it was really cool.”
“Corroded coffin.” He answers while putting his boxes in the back of his van before taking the ones out of your arms.
“Yes! Robin told me she’d take me to a show the next time I was in town and you guys were playing. Let’s see what else did she say? That you play dungeons and dragons and the last time there were issues in the upside down you almost died because of the demobats right?”
“You know about the upside down?”
“Of course I do. Robin tells me everything.”
“And you believed her?”
“She’s never lied to me before.” You shrug nonchalantly before walking away from the van to get more stuff from your room and to get out of Robin and Steve’s way when you see them getting closer.
“So what kind of music do you listen to?” Eddie asks as he catches up to you.
“A little bit of everything I guess. My parents have very different music tastes so I grew up with a lot of different things so it’s just what I like now. Currently I listen to a lot of Metallica, Queen, and Dolly Parton.” Eddie groans as you say her name.
“Oh come on you were doing so good!” When you started with Metallica he thought you were a woman after his heart but ending with a country artist could’ve ruined it.
“Oh god don’t tell me you’re one of those metal heads.” You huff and roll your eyes picking up another box.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. One of those pretentious I only listen to metal or rock and anything else is disgusting. And if you listen to the stuff they listen to but also something different you’re automatically not a real fan.”
“I listen to other things! I just don’t think country music deserves all the hype it gets.” He’s quick to defend himself.
“Oh yeah? What else do you listen to? And have you ever listened to Dolly before?”
“Okay, don’t tell Steve because the fucker will tease me if he knew, but I listen to a lot of Abba. Like an unhealthy amount. And no, I just know the genre she is.”
“Well she’s the best.” You shrug before nudging him with your shoulder. “And Abba fucking rocks. I own every single one of their albums twice, once on vinyl and once as a cassette.”
“What could they be talking about this enthusiastically?” Steve asks Robin as the two of them come out of the house with the last of your boxes.
“Who knows.” She shrugs. “Could be music or movies or comics. Now that I think about it they have a lot of the same interests. Maybe I should’ve been hyping Eddie up instead of you.”
“You were hyping me up?”
“Tried to be your wingman, play matchmaker a bit maybe. That’s out the window though, look at them.” Eddie’s sitting in the back of his van, legs dangling off the edge as he leans back and watches you pace and talk with your hands about something Steve and Robin can’t hear from where they’re stopped. You both have smiles on your faces and the two friends can just tell by the look on Eddie’s face that he’s already smitten. “I haven’t seen Y/n take to a man like this in a while, she’s friendly sure but this is something different. And Eddie’s well, Eddie. I wouldn’t be able to take it if her falling for someone else broke his heart and I constantly had to look into those big broken puppy dog eyes all the time.”
“Well then let’s go play matchmaker Buckley.” Steve starts heading towards the van again with purpose.
“What are you planning Steve?”
“Just sit back and let the master work his magic.” Eddie hops up as Steve gets to the two of you so they can get the rest of the boxes in.
“Is that it Y/n?”
“Yeah that’s it Robs, I had packed up the rest into my car last night.”
“Hopefully there’s room for three people in your car because I can’t handle any more metal or Eddie yelling at me when I ask to listen to something else. And Robin’s obviously going with you.”
“What? You’re gonna drag me all the way out here to drive home alone? No offense darlin’.”
“None taken. Guys that’s sort of a dick move don’t you think? Eddie shouldn’t have to drive with all my shit by himself.”
“Sorry man but I’m all Eddied out.” Steve jabs Robin with his elbow to tell her to say something about it.
“Sorry Eds I’d go with you but the weed smell is really bothering me.”
“It’s not even that strong.”
“Robin’s always had a sensitivity when it came to scents.”
“Y/n why don’t you go with Eddie? I can drive your car that way Robin and I get a break from the van and Eddie doesn’t drive alone.” Steves normally an idiot but Robin has to admit this is kind of genius.
“I’m fine with that. Eddie, you good if I go with you?”
“I’m fine with that.”
“Okay cool. Let me go say bye and grab my keys and we can go.” You head inside and spend a solid twenty minutes saying goodbye to your parents and promising to come visit before they leave in a week and then to call them as much as possible after that. On your way out you yell a bye one more time while grabbing your keys from the holder and excitedly hurry to the trio waiting at the van. You toss your keys Steve’s way before climbing into the passenger seat. “Hurry up pretty boy I wanna get unpacked!” You yell out the window causing Eddie to blush and smirk Steve’s way as he passes him.
“You hear that Steve, I'm the pretty boy now.”
“God I’m starting to regret this already.” Steve says as he and Robin climb into your car. “He’s so damn smug.” Robin laughs at him while watching Eddie get into the driver's seat before looking over to find you shoving a tape into his stereo.
“If it helps Steve I think he’s starting to too. How much do you wanna bet he comes out of this drive liking Dolly Parton?”
Eddie Taglist: @starbxcks @phluffybunny-blog @sadbitchfangirl @notbeforelong @kenzi-woycehoski @celestialsxturn @daisyellsong @urmomashleyyy @ofherscarlettwitchways @munsonswhore86 @katsukis1wife @violet-19999 @navs-bhat @that-chick212 @dixontardis @bubsonnobx @ruinedbythehobbit @pikapickabitch @emotionaldreamer @kodakoalabear @chaoticevilbakugo @thatsamegirl @fromasgardandback @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker @fangirl199812 @greenclues @isshecrazyorissheclever @rockchickrebel
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Decided to make this prompt it’s own post- originally based off @noir-renard’s tags on this photo post:
I had an idea for where it could go…
Jason uses Bruce’s account to bid on the car.
Danny uses Vlad’s account to bid on it.
They drive up the price ridiculously high.
Danny wants the car to go on a summer road trip/ college tour with Sam and Tucker.
Jason wants to use it to pick up his brothers from work and school to embarrass them. He’s sure he can convince Alfred to let him be the designated chauffeur for a bit.
Danny just barely places the winning bid in time.
When he gets the car he tricks it out with a bunch of anti-theft and especially anti-ghost security measures. No way he’s letting Johnny or Technus or some other random ghost steal it from him, this car is his. He also adds special storage for ectoplasm and ecto-dejecto, since they’ll be on the road for a bit, but also in case there’s an emergency and they need to get out of town fast. And then they’re off on their summer adventure!
They stop in Gotham to check out Gotham University, and because Sam love the aesthetic and Tucker loves Wayne Tech, leaving their car in a lot frequented by tourists.
While he’s out on patrol Jason suddenly sees THE FUCKING CAR!!! Holy shit it must be destiny. Fuck it, Red Hood is stealing a car today because dammit this was supposed to be his janky-ass dead guy car. He’s gonna reclaim his undead honor and this shitty car if it’s the last thing he does. Only one problem. The car immediately zaps him, knocks him out, and soups him with the automatic thermos the second he touches it (what’s this? A halfa Jason Todd au??? Oh dear!).
Danny, Sam, and Tucker return none the wiser, having had a great day touring the city and the university’s campus. But soon they’re back on the road, having a couple more weeks of travel and touring campuses planned. They finally return to Amity Park, and it’s only then that Danny realizes the car had captured some random ghost while they were on the road. At least it looked like the car had fed them from the ectoplasm storage while they travelled, so they should be healed of any souping-related injuries.
Danny decides to release them in his royal keep in the Infinite Realms (AND a ghost king Danny au? wow who would’ve thought), so that he can have Wulf on hand to portal the ghost back to their haunt if they mean no harm, or contain them in the Ghost Zone if they turn out to be violent.
Jason is spewed out of that freaky thermos into a throne room of black marble, surrounded by glowing, translucent beings. Everything has a Lazarus-green glow, and something deep in his chest seems to be humming in recognition, like a tuning fork resonating with an entire orchestra (is that how tuning forks work? Jason doesn’t fucking know).
Above him floats a teenager in a black and white jumpsuit accented with pieces of medieval armor and a cloak lined with swirling stars and nebulae. Atop his snow white hair sits an obsidian crown bathed in green flames, the same bright Lazarus green as the boy’s eyes. He’s holding the thermos almost sheepishly, looking at Jason in shocked amazement.
“Holy fucking shit- I SOUPED RED HOOD??? RED HOOD’S A GHOST?!?!?”
Meanwhile, the Batfamily has been frantically looking for Red Hood for weeks now. No one knows where he’s gone- his tracker showed him traveling from state to state seemingly at random, before stopping and disappearing entirely. His last tracked location was in a small midwestern town called Amity Park.
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hi! can you do headcanons on being married to phil wenneck. please and thank you!!🩷
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
Warnings: mentions of sex, sexual themes, swearing.
First of all, he would be the kind of husband to constantly compliment you and build up your confidence.
"Wow, I really can't speak, huh? Must be because of how gorgeous you look."
"There's not a single thing I don't love about."
He's so sweet, it's honestly adorable 😭
When he introduces you to his friends, you all get along really well, especially you and Stu because of your careers in Biology.
He's the type of man to have your wedding date as his phone's password or tattooed onto his wrist.
He loves when he comes home after a long day of work and spots you humming to the radio while swaying yourself around the kitchen.
You'll feel warm arms wrap around your waist and his nose will bury itself into your neck.
He loves your scent, so much so, that whenever you go out with friends for a night away or a road trip, he'll walk over to your vanity and smell your perfume.
It's a mixture of vanilla and lavender, it makes Phil's mind go hazy when you walk past or when you're hugging him.
Phil loves pda. Even if it's something small like holding your hand or your lower back, he loves showing off your relationship. Showing that you're his.
Phil also loves cooking, you'll take it in turns each night to make tea and you'll each rate the other's meal out of five stars. Whoever has the most stars added up gets to choose a restaurant to eat out at.
Once for your birthday, he had told you to wear a pair of red panties to a fancy Korean restaurant, it was until Phil revealed a remote ten minutes that you had pieced together his plan.
The poor waiter, he took your order while you refrained from moaning aloud in front of everyone.
When you got pregnant with your first child, Phil was overjoyed. He bought diapers, dummies, toys, clothes, monitors, a small bathtub, a car seat, I could go on forever.
Let's just say by the end of your first trimester, you already have everything you'll need for your whole pregnancy.
He didn't need to watch tutorials on how to hold a baby, he used to volunteer to take care of his little brother when he was younger.
He got you to wear overalls because he thought you looked sexy in them, seeing you walk around adjusting the straps...
His mind wanders, I mean, there's not a rule to say sex is bad while pregnant...
Let's talk about Phil when he drives.
Lord have mercy 🙏
When his hands grip onto the steering wheel, while concentrating on the directions>>
I just know he gets road rage, no one can convince me otherwise.
"Move out the fucking way!"
"Watch it prick!"
🛐
Just watching him turn the steering wheel, or when he looks back while parking turns you on.
Most of the time, he'll notice the lust in your eyes and will park off to the side.
Sometimes you're stuck in traffic and he'll trail a hand up your thigh, a couple kisses are peppered upon your neck.
Once, you guys had been in traffic for around twenty minutes and Phil decided to take you in the back of the van he borrowed (what Stu doesn't know won't hurt him)
You had been in there for only five minutes when the road had started up again, all you could hear was loud beeping horns from angry drivers.
Phil would definitely try and get you to avoid Alan for one specific reason; he's a pervert.
Once, you, Phil and Alan got trapped in the basement of Stu's house without signal and Alan confirmed Phil's suspicion.
"Looks like we'll be trapped a while...y/n, is it?"
"Knock it off!"
Something that's always funny, is Phil coming home drunk.
"There was this girl, and she asked for my number and I was all like 'No! I have...a wife."
And then there's the part where he's really romantic.
"God, I love my wife. She's the most amazing woman I've ever met, you know? She has these eyes that are so bright, I could stare into them forever. And when she looks at me, I can't help but be nothing but honest with her. Do you have someone like that?"
"Yes, I do."
@bradleybeachbabe hope you enjoyed! Love you 💕
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Could you write something about Harry and sn just talking? they could be talking about some celebrity gossip or someone in their circle of friends
Cantaloupe
read my other work here!
pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader
*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*
word count: 841
summary: in this one shot/flash forward from the Now You're In My Life storyline, you and Harry recap the big news from your family's Thanksgiving dinner.
a/n: i have a million other asks and things i should be doing first, but the perfect idea came to me when i read it, and the story just flowed from there.
i also feel like i need to explain the title a little. first of all, i suck at/hate naming fics, second of all it's a Harry fic, why not give it a random fruit name? finally, there's this really terrible dad joke that has been running through my family for my entire life (even still to this day). if cantaloupe is motioned, or seen, it's a rush to see who can be the first one to say "can't elope tonight, dad's got the car!" anyway, that joke, and the fruit of it all it just felt right.
tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat
You and Harry walked to the car without saying a word, he opened the passenger door for you before moving to sit in the driver’s seat.
“Wow,” Harry finally broke the silence as he was backing out of your parent’s driveway.
“You’re goddamned right wow.” You replied, still trying to wrap your head around it.
“I thought bomb drops like that only happened on television.”
You had just left Thanksgiving dinner with your family, where your sister announced that on her recent vacation with her fiancé, the pair had eloped, before jetting off to their Hawaiian honeymoon.
“I thought they were joking,” you said. “Then they brought out the photo album.”
“I know, I’ve never seen you make a face like that,” he chuckled. “It was actually pretty adorable.”
You slapped him lightly on the thigh. “I just… I never in a million years expected that.”
“You really had no idea?” He glanced over at you before returning his eyes to the road.
“How could I? They announced their engagement, and were feeding us all this bull shit about wedding planning.”
“Well,” he interjected. “Technically they did plan a wedding…”
“Shh, nobody needs your semantics.” You joke before looking over at him curiously. “Why? Did you have an idea?”
He shrugged. “I mean, the trip did seem a little suspicious. They usually only pick one place when they travel.”
“Yeah, but you have to go through California to get to Hawaii, so I just figured they were killing two birds with one stone.”
“That’s because you’re so sweet and naive, princess.”
“Heyyy,” you whined.
“What? It’s one of the things I love most about you.” He reaches over, interlacing his fingers with yours. “I just had a suspicion.”
Your eyes go wide. “Harry Edward Styles,” you gasp. “You thought my sister was eloping and you didn’t tell me?”
“No,” he corrected. “I had a suspicion. It’s different. “Do you think your mother will ever forgive them?” He asked, changing the subject.
You let out a deep breath as you consider his question. “I… I mean sure. But she won’t get over this, talking about it will always be a touchy subject.” You look over to Harry, who spares a quick glance as he’s driving. “I’ve never seen her look so devastated. She’s been talking about my sister and I getting married for as long as I can remember.” You let out a chuckle. “My dad on the other hand…”
“Yeah, he seemed to take it well.”
“He’s just relieved that she’s not going to hit him up to help pay for a wedding.” You both laugh.
“What about you?” Harry asks. “What do you think about it?”
You shrug. “I mean, I get why they did it. She’s not out to everyone yet, so it makes sense to want to just have it be for themselves.” You sigh before continuing. “But selfishly, I’m kind of bummed. That was my only chance to be in a wedding party.”
Harry looks at you curiously. “What do you mean?”
“She’s my sister, we always said we’d be each other’s maids of honor. I don’t have any close enough friends to be asked to be a bridesmaid or anything, so I just don’t get that experience.”
“You know that’s not true, right?” Harry says, squeezing your hand to comfort you.
“I love you for trying to make me feel better, but it is true.”
He shakes his head. “No it’s not. You’re going to be the most important part of my wedding party.” He smiles softly before lifting your joined hands and placing a soft kiss on the diamond ring that he had placed on your finger a few months earlier.
You’re silent for a moment, observing Harry and his dreamy smile as he keeps his eyes locked on the road, his hand softly stroking your thigh. “Puppy?”
“Hmm?” He hummed in reply, squeezing your leg gently, as he pulled up to a redlight.
“Do you wish we were eloping?”
He looks over to you with a sly smirk. “Princess, the sooner I get to make you my wife the better,” He lifts his hand, cupping your cheek. “But I wouldn’t be doing my job as your future husband if I didn’t give you everything you’ve ever wanted. And that includes the dream wedding you’ve been planning since you were a little girl.”
Even in the dark car, Harry is able to make out the blush that spreads across your cheeks at his words, making him chuckle. “See, now when you talk like that, how could I not want to stand up in front of every single person I know and declare my love for you.”
“I know, that’s why I said it,” he teased. “I don’t want you getting any silly ideas about eloping. We already have some very lovely, very non-refundable plans.”
You let out a bark of laughter at his words and slap his shoulder. “Way to kill the mood.”
“No worries my love, I’ll revive it the second we get home.”
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Flower Shop
Richie Jerimovich x F!Reader
For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: Flower Shop
A/N: This is NOT the same reader as my other Richie fics. I've decided to compile those fics into their own multichap because I've gotten some Bear fic ideas outside of that little universe I've created. ALSO, huge shout out to @kind-wolf for this idea!!!! Seriously sparked so much inspiration, thank you x 10000000 I hope you enjoy :)
Warnings: Cursing, arguing, light angst, mentions of harassment, and someone being drunk and disorderly.
The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @quixscentsposts @dadbodfanatic-x @adorable-punk-superheroes @lodeddiperrodrick @isalver @captainweasleybarnes @musicwithteeth
“We’re across from that stupid fuckin’ flower shop.” Richie spoke into the phone. “Yes, that one.” He was staring out the window at the shop he mentioned, annoyance growing as he stared out. “No, I don’t know if they’ve got white roses, look, will you just tell me when my meat delivery is gonna be here, I gotta fuckin’ feed people.” Richie had slammed his hand down on the table like the person on the other line could see his frustration. Before the conversion continued, Richie saw movement where he was staring across the street. “I gotta go, just deliver the fuckin’ meat.”
As you stepped outside of your flower shop, dragging to large potted plants to sit alongside the front door, you heard the familiar bell of the shop across the street. At first the noise went unnoticed, the first few weeks it was just part of the Chicago hustle and bustle but two months in, you began to notice it because it usually meant that someone was about to start yelling at you.
“I thought I told you that putting that shit out on the street causes distractions and traffic!” The man yelled out to you.
Right on schedule was the thought in your head as you huffed and stood up to yell back.
“I thought I told you to mind your fuckin’ business, beef boy!” You usually had discourse like this on a daily basis but between the early start you had and the exhaustion from pulling these plants out of the back storage room, you were a little more rowdy today.
“Beef boy?” He scoffed. “Stop blocking the sidewalk, you–you–flower fuck!” He tripped up on what to call you there and it made you smile.
“T-t-t- today, Junior!” You mocked him back.
“Are you making fun of me by quoting Billy fucking Madison?!”
The cars of traffic were moving on the roads in front of you, the audacity they had interrupting your heated discussion. But nonetheless, you weren’t going to let it stop you from going back and forth.
“Why are you such a fuckin’ jagoff?!” You called back out at him.
The comment made the slightest smirk grow on Richie’s face, you were too far to notice it which he was grateful for but hearing the word that he called people so often out of someone else’s mouth was amusing.
“I don’t know, why don’t you look in the mirror and tell me why you’re such a jagoff!” He lifted his hand up and pointed his finger, throwing it at you as he spoke.
“Wow.” You started clapping. “Great comeback, what are we 10? I know you are what am I?” You called out in a immature tone.
“I’m gonna go back inside and work because some of us put our blood sweat and tears into our jobs, while other people sit up on their bouqueted pedestals and fuck over us hard workers!”
You had no idea what he was saying, what he meant by it but that was also a pretty normal and everyday occurrence so you didn’t think twice about it and just yelled out before going back inside your flower shop.
“Go fuck yourself, beef boy!”
These things happened pretty often, not everyday but often enough that your comebacks got funnier, they got more detailed, more pointed, on both sides. When you went out to water the plants on display in front of the store and Richie went out for a smoke break you yelled across at each other. When you both were at the window looking at the rain clouds forming or the rain drops falling, you’d throw middle fingers up and mouth profanities at each other. When you’d stay late and look across the street to see Richie there at the restaurant late, you’d stare at each other, give mean looks and turn the lights off to work in the back offices at your shop.
It was strangely something enjoyable, for both of you. It was a way to get out so much frustration and build up tension that had accrued in the days. It wasn’t healthy, and you knew that but you weren’t exactly looking for the textbook solution to your problems these days.
As you stood outside, past closing time, sweeping up the dead leaves and fallen petals from the day, Richie was out for what was likely his 5th smoke break of the day. It was late, and you both tended to keep it down when curfew hours hit, out of respect for the block, not each other. As you moved along your storefront, you heard a voice that wasn’t familiar.
“Yo, can I please get some flowers, my girl’s mad at me and I need something to bring home.” The voice was slurred, the person sounded drunk. You looked up and saw the person who had stumbled up to your store.
“I can give you a mix of stuff for $10.” You weren’t in the mood to cause problems so you thought this would be a good compromise. A bouquet like that would normally be double so you thought this was the perfect meet in the middle deal.
“Nah, I don’t got any money. Just let me go in and grab something small, no biggie, alright?” The man started to push by and tried to get in the door that you had already locked.
“We’re closed, I can go grab something for you, and you can give me $10 for it, that’s it.” Your voice was firm as you stepped in front of the door.
“C’mon!” The guy whined.
“Alright, new plan. No flowers, and you get the fuck out of here.” There was no whine in your tone, you weren’t playing games which is why the push you gave the guy was more aggressive than your initial block.
While the push worked to get him away from the door, the man didn’t leave.
“Pretty sure she told you to get the fuck out of here.”
That sentence was said by someone else and it made both you and the man turn to look at where the hardened voice was coming from. You saw the man from across the street, now much closer on your side of the street, on your sidewalk. He looked different closer up, you could see the features of his face better, despite it being late at night you could see things that the space hid. The bags under his eyes, the roughness of his stubbled beard, the wrinkles in his forehead and eyes, he was worn, he had been through a lot, you could tell. You also could tell that he had been used to these type of run ins, or you so assumed as you looked at the gun in his hand that wasn’t being threatened yet, but was ready in the case it needed to be.
“But my flowers…” The man stumbled slightly as he spoke.
“They’re her flowers, not yours. Go home, get the fuck out of here.” Richie stepped forward, using his body to show force and slightly raising the gun to let the man know it was there.
And it worked. The man left, drunk and defeated, leaving you and Richie on the sidewalk in front of your shop.
“I had it handled.” The glare you had was still on the man walking away and when he got out of your view, you turned to the person still next to you.
“Most people just say thank you.” He scoffed as he put the gun in his back waistband.
“You have a history of showing up armed and ready to shoot someone?” You raised your eyebrow and leaned on the broom handle.
“No, I just–do you have to argue everything?” He was frustrated.
“I just assumed that was our thing.” Your shoulders shrugged so nonchalantly.
Richie let out a laugh and shook his head as he took a step off the curb and was now standing on the asphalt of the street, slowly making his way back over to the restaurant. “I’d buy yourself a piece, get yourself familiar with it, this block can get hot sometimes.”
“Who says I’m not familiar?” You called out to him with a smirk on your face.
“My mistake.” He lifted his hands up in surrender with a similar smirk to your own before turning around fully to step onto his side of the street.
“Hey, beef boy!” The humor in your voice was being held back by a thin thread as you smiled through your words.
Richie turned around, his hand on the door handle ready to enter back into the restaurant as he stared at you. For the first time ever, you weren’t going to yell profanities at eachother, give rude gestures or annoyed looked. For the first time you smiled at him and truly had no sarcastic attitude in what the next two words out of your mouth would be.
“Thank you!”
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How did you and B meet?
I'm sure I've talked about this before, but here's the Official Story from our reception invitations:
Erica met B through their mutual friend G while rock climbing at the Austin greenbelt in April of 2019.
Erica had just purchased a new camera and 80% of the photos she took that day were of B. She shyly sent B the best ones and noted he was a lovely subject. B said, “thanks bro” and used those pictures for his Bumble profile.
It was an auspicious beginning.
At the time, B was living and working in Austin while Erica was a PhD student in Dallas. She often visited “home” to see her parents and climb, so they met up regularly over the next two years.
When the pandemic hit, Erica moved back to Austin to work on her dissertation, and isolated with a small group of climbers that included B. They also started playing D&D together.
Erica’s character was a chaotic neutral half-elf bard who cast spells and cantrips exclusively via limerick. Her go-to solutions to problems they encountered were seduction, inciting political rebellion, befriending monsters, and stabbing.
B played a lawful good half-elf paladin who found Erica’s character extremely vexing.
In real life, however, they had quite a bit in common, and started spending time alone outside of group climbing and D&D meetups. Later, they would discover they had a mutual romantic interest at this point, but neither acted on it since Erica had accepted a visiting professorship in Colorado. She moved in July.
When Erica returned briefly to Austin over spring break the following year, she spent most of her time with B: climbing, hiking, grilling at her parent’s place, and staunchly denying there was anything happening between them even if she wished there was because honestly, mom, he's never shown the slightest bit of interest in me (her father scoffed loudly from the other room).
She decided to move back to Austin at the end of the school year. When B (and G) came to visit her a few weeks before she moved, Erica decided to be brave and make her intentions known. While watching a UFC fight with B on the couch, she tucked her toes, lasciviously, under B’s thigh.
Shockingly, he did not respond to this unequivocal romantic overture. But he did help her remove all the temporary wallpaper on her ugly rental cabinets before they left, so that was nice.
The following month, when Erica moved back to Austin, B asked if she’d like to come over for dinner after climbing. She agreed because she wanted to procrastinate unpacking and also she was slightly in love with him. The following day, he asked if she wanted to have dinner again. She did.
“Wow,” Erica said to her mother that morning, “I guess B is really lonely since G moved. He’s been asking me to hang out with him a lot.”
“You're an idiot,” her mother said.
That night, B asked Erica if she'd ever thought about them dating.
“I’m thinking about it now,” she said, cavalier, suave, blasé, and not nervous at all.
This wasn’t a lie, but she had also thought about it once or twice prior to that moment as well.
“Great,” B said, “How would you feel if I kissed you?”
And Erica said, “Yeah, I’d feel pretty good about that.”
A few weeks later, B casually showed Erica an empty shelf in his bathroom cabinet and an inviting space in his closet and a couple spare drawers in his dresser and she, equally casually, moved in with him.
Over the next year, the apartment’s decor and Erica’s diet improved drastically. They traveled, they climbed, they spent time with each others families. They lived, laughed, loved and reduced, reused, recycled. Shortly after moving into their new house, combining bank accounts, making each other their medical powers of attorney, solidifying their retirement plans, and discussing whether getting married would have tax benefits, they realized most people got engaged before doing…a good portion of those things. So they planned to propose to each other.
Christmas of 2022, they took a road trip across Colorado. B proposed to Erica on the gondola in Telluride; two days later, Erica proposed to B on the Train to Cascade Canyon in Durango. They both said yes.
In August 2023 they will elope, with their dog Deacon as a witness, to Mt. Rainier national park.
In November 2023, they’ll celebrate with their friends and family at a backyard reception that will include food, drinks, swimming, croquet, corn hole, axe-throwing and a bounce house (the axe-throwing and the bounce-house will be on opposite sides of the lawn; if it's cold, the pool will be heated). They hope you’ll come and share their joy with them.
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HOTD episode 5 Easter eggs and thoughts:
Some slight but important changes to the timeline and order of events worth noting:
In Fire and Blood, Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding actually took place over the course of seven days, it did not end on the first night and require a shotgun wedding from the recollection in the book.
At one of the competitions, Criston beat Harwin Strong who was the strongest man in the realm, but we do not see them face off this episode.
Then, Criston faces Joffrey and beats him within an inch of his life with his favorite weapon, Morningstar. In the book, Joffrey suffers a brain injury and died six days later whereas there is NO denying he is dead on the show.
In the book Rhaenyra and 17 and Laenor is 20 at the time of the wedding in 114, while in the show Rhaenyra is at least 18 according to the last episode.
By the time this wedding takes place in the show, Criston Cole was already Lord Commander of the Kingsguard in the books.
We open the episode with Rhea Royce, who –in the brief moments we saw her – came across as a woman who would certainly give Daemon a run for his money and see right through his shit. And while there is a small part of me heartbroken that my boo Daemon did kill his wife (although we never see it on camera), this whole show is an excellent character study on Daemon as a character. His trip to the Vale was due to Viserys’ banishment sure, but when we see him and Rhea meet on the road it doesn’t actually look like he planned to murder her. The way it was shot makes it clear she drew a weapon first and her horse was spooked, but it did not appear that Daemon actually did anything. It was only when he end he walked away and she said something to him that he was prompted to pick up the rock and finish the job. Clearly that wasn’t a planned way to rid her but like most Daemon plans, he wings it. When Daemon dances with Rhaenyra, he sort of confirms he planned to rid himself of Rhea by telling her that he no longer has a wife and could put a stop to the whole wedding for her. He clearly wished to accomplish this task prior to her wedding day.
I like how they’ve addressed the unraveling of Rhaenyra and Criston on the show. It is believable that Criston would be so hurt by Rhaenyra’s response to his offer. The man broke and oath and his entire life as he currently knows it is due to her kindness and position. For her to have favored him, chose him as her protector, confide in him, and then later have him break an oath with her, it’s little wonder he thought she loved him just as much back. The way Criston asks her to escape with her and be free of her position and responsibility was a great way to weave together the rumors from Fire and Blood and also flesh out those rumors into a believable conversation with a heartbreaking end for Sir Criston.
Emily Carey (Alicent) was so great in this episode. It was the first time we actually see Alicent grow up and take the rose colored glasses off. We as viewers can see that she’s only seeing and being given bits and pieces of information, and surmising her decisions based on those bits. We get our first real debut of Master of Whispers, Larys Strong, and see his role in essentially starting the war. As viewers we can see she is getting parts of the truth but in the case of Criston Cole, some of her assumptions are incorrect. This long game of telephone is a great way of explaining how each chip fell to create what will be a giant, convoluted mess.
Speaking of Alicent and Criston, I really was surprised that Criston immediately fessed up to sleeping with Rhaenyra to Alicent. I thought for her in his anger he would have accused Rhaenyra of sleeping with Daemon to get back at her but no, he fessed up to it. This will add such an added layer to their dynamic as now Alicent has a very significant piece of information to hold over Criston’s head.
The king ain’t doing too hot, and wow, his arm was disgusting. Viserys in this episode is fighting so many things; his health being number one. We can see that it is rapidly declining and they are really at a loss for what to do for him. On top of that, his wife is beginning to use her own brain and fight back in the wake of her fathers dismissal, and the girl who was once so innocent and agreeable is about to become an enormous problem for him. Partner that with trying to repair a fractured relationship with Corlys, the return of his brother who he knows probably just murdered his own wife, and the image of Daemon taking Rhaenyra’s face in his hands at her own wedding celebrations as though they meant to kiss. THEN the poor dude has to have a shotgun wedding and cancel all of the fun, he truly can’t win.
Alicent walking into the hall in her green dress…shots fired. Then she hit us with the double whammy when she called Rhaenyra “Step-Daughter” in front of everyone. You can tell Rhaenyra knows she is onto something and her white lie didn’t hold up too well. I highly doubt she realizes that Criston Cole has thrown her under the bus for the first of many times.
I hate the Larys the club foot, so that means they are doing a great job with him.
Daemon waltzing into the hall unannounced and uninvited…a man after my own heart. Paddy’s acting in this scene was incredible, he portrays sooo much with just a look. And honestly, so does Matt Smith. Every scene we get between those two has been perfect.
The Vearyon’s are so hot. So hot. We get our first glimpse of Laena and Daemon together and you can tell they have great banter and she is GORGEOUS so naturally Daemon is attracted but I don’t think at this point it is a love at first sight sort of thing with them. Rhaenyra and Daemon never had a chance to finish their conversation before she was whisked away and married, so I’ll be curious how they explain Daemon and Laena next episode.
Sir Joffrey instigating Criston was excellent, he was perfectly dickish and you can see Criston slowly unraveling all episode but to see just how far he’s fallen was crazy. In the books Joffrey’s death was depicted differently. There actually were seven days of tournament and meals, one of which saw Criston Cole beating the crap out of everyone he faced including Harwin “Breakbones” Strong and killing Joffrey, the Knight of Kisses.” Using Joffrey as the straw that broke the camels back makes the most logical sense for this storyline and I thought they did a great job. The half of his scull missing on camera I could have done without but I know that is par for this beautiful corse.
The end of this episode broke my heart how Claire (the director) made the decision to have a voice over of Laenor saying his vows overtop of the shots of Rhaenyra. You can see both of their hearts breaking and it was so well done. It also helped so that Rhaenyra truly cares for him and despite their arranged marriage, she has his best interest at heart. His whole life just ended in a sudden blow and Rhaenyra clearly feels so strongly for Laenor. It is that mutual respect that Milly was able to capture so perfectly. He feels all alone and now Rhaenyra doesn’t have Criston or Daemon, so to see them both on that altar broken hearted was truly so sad and well done.
Speaking of Daemon, where did he go when all hell broke loose? Why is Harwin swooping in and not Daemon? The man is a mess.
I like that the director left it unclear if Daemon and Rhaenyra ever kissed but I’m sure someone in that room would have seen if it they did. To hear Rhaenyra question Daemon’s intentions again and ask him for such a huge ultimatum (to cut down the Kingsguard and whisk me away from here) was so great. But then Daemon never truly gets an opportunity to answer her or do those things either way. The fight breaking out disrupts their conversation and before the night is over she’s a married woman. When we see an aged up Rhaenyra next week I hope we get some insight into Daemon’s headspace and recalibrate Rhaenyra and Daemon’s relationship with one another.
Next episode we will have a lot of new characters (lots of kids) and a significant time jump but I want to shout out how amazing Milly and Emily both were as young Rhaenyra and Alicent. I will truly miss them both, especially Milly. It’s been some time since I saw a show have a younger and older version of the characters and it’s not an easy thing to pull off, but I’m optimistic and just hope next episode doesn’t feel like filler to establish the new players in this show.
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On a bright, clear morning, our art class gets permission from the principal to embark on a trip to the park. It’s an exciting prospect to us students, a trek all the way across the road from school, totaling a distance of one hundred metres from the back gates. It feels every bit as exciting as our fourth year school tour to Rome.
It’s cold, but there is the slightest tinge of spring in the air, and though the grass and the earth is damp I find a place to sit nestled among the newly sprouted wild flowers because I think it might be nice to try and draw them, but also because Michelle and Evan were sitting here first and Jen still has me on a mission to befriend them.
“Pay attention to the colours when you’re doing your drawings today,” Ms. O’Reilly says, “Oftentimes things aren’t as they seem when you really look at them. Yes, the grass is green, but can’t you see yellow there too? Blue in the shade? There’s a whole range of values and hues that you don’t see at first glance, nor will you unless you take the time to really observe and take it all in.”
“That’s how you should think of me,” I nudge Michelle, “Like the grass. I’m not just green, I’m shades of blue and yellow too.”
She rolls her eyes, “Oh wow, so now you’re a poet.”
“I knew you’d think that, and you know what? It comes naturally to me, I’m just that kind of person.”
I catch her smirking before she turns her face away and pretends to be interested in what Evan is drawing in his sketchbook. “What’s that?” She asks him, and he flips his hair out of his eyes, “the drain. I think it’s more interesting than the trees and shit, you know? Like, that juxtaposition of the man made in the middle of nature.”
I snort, “I take it back, I’m not the poetic one after all. Wow, that’s deep. I never thought of a drain into the sewer in those terms before.”
His shoulders stiffen, “Hey, what are you getting smart for? Didn’t you get detention a few weeks ago for vomiting on the floor in Mr. Doherty’s class?”
I won’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his rudeness as such, so I laugh, “Nah, man, rumour. I did throw up, but not on the floor. I was hungover,” A shrug, “What can you do, huh?”
Michelle huffs out a laugh, “Surprised you didn’t see each other in detention. Jude is the only person I know who has to go more often than you, Evan.”
“I’ve got detention again yesterday” he boasts, and I indulge him, “For what?”
There’s a satisfied glint in his eye, “Fireworks.”
“Where?”
“Just in my locker.”
“No way,” I let out a squawk of a laugh, “I got caught for that once too.”
He glances around awkwardly, unable to decide if I’m engaging genuinely with him or taking the piss again, “Really?” He says with cautious interest, “When?”
“Oh, like a few years ago. Second year I think, sometime around Halloween, but someone ratted me out,” I jokingly jab my thumb at Michelle who gasps in outrage, “It wasn’t me! Jen and I knew about it but we didn’t say anything! I don’t know who it was.”
Evan rests his pencil on the page, “What were you going to do with them?”
“I hadn’t decided yet.”
“Me neither,” he says, actually smiling, “I was just storing them. Actually, I turned myself in once they made that announcement that someone was seen with them. I didn’t want them going through my locker or anything, like, doing the whole search operation thing.”
“Yeah, who knows what might be in there.”
“For sure,” he goes back to drawing his drain and I begin to sketch in the petals of a crocus flower next to my shoe. After another short moment his curiosity gets the better of him, “Hey, what’s the worst thing you ever got detention for?”
I chuckle, “When I was twelve I set a fire in the boy’s bathroom.”
An incredulous pause, “That was you?”
“Yeah, like, it was an accident though. I’m not an arsonist.”
“Yeah that was wild,” Michelle muses, “I remember having to keep it a secret, because Jen and I knew but nobody else did. We weren’t even supposed to know it. You remember how the school made us all go to an assembly about it and they brought that fireman in?”
Evan nudges her with his elbow, “You knew who it was the whole time? You never said!”
“I’m a good secret keeper!”
He looks at me with intrigue, “What happened? What’s the real story?”
“So I was skipping class. I used to get really bored in Mr. White's History so I hid in the toilets and then when I was there I guess I realised I didn’t have anything to do. I had this lighter in my bag that I’d found in the yard, so I started lighting little pieces of toilet paper on fire, you know, just to watch them burn up and turn into nothing, but if it got too crazy I’d just extinguish them in the toilet. Anyway, I got carried away and decided to light the whole toilet roll on fire and then,” I shrug, “you know the rest, I suppose.”
“I remember that day so well, do you-” he cackles, “-do you remember how they didn’t replace the toilet paper dispenser for the whole year? It was just this big hunk of melted plastic stuck to the wall of the stall.”
“Really? Nah, man, I didn't go back into that stall ever again. That’s hilarious.”
“You mean to this day? Five years later?”
“Yeah, seriously! I can’t face it, it just brings me right back there, to getting screamed at in the principal's office and then them calling my parents and all…” the jovial spirit in me falters and this memory, “...who, um, weren’t happy about it and all. Uh, but the main thing was that we talked the principal out of expelling me. I got suspended for a week and then a month straight of detention instead, so it worked out okay.”
“And you talked them out of expulsion…?” Evan prompts.
“Oh, you know, I’m just good at bullshitting,” I say vaguely, though the reality was that I sat at the principal’s desk, my body racked with breathless, terrified sobs until I almost puked, snot pouring down my face, swearing on my pre-teen life that it was an accident until they let me off easy out of pure pity alone.
I concentrate on my crocuses for a while while Michelle and Evan draw too, the three of us in content silence while Ms. O'Reilly walks around the group to look at our work. “Beautiful,” She says of mine, and the compliment fills my insides with such joy and acceptance that I can’t hide it from my face.
“Who’s the teacher’s pet now?” Michelle mutters as Ms. O’Reilly moves on.
“Jealous?”
“No.”
“Can I see yours?”
“Why, so you can gloat?”
“No, c’mon, I’m curious.”
She sighs and tilts her sketchbook to me so that I can see the trees she has drawn. She has a soft line, feminine, cautious and a little shaky, but she’s captured the scene nicely, how the spindly, bare branches of the chestnut tree cut through the clouds and frame a hazy February sky.
“That’s lovely,” I say. “Not that I’m surprised, you’ve always been a good drawer.”
She looks at her work doubtfully, “I’m not sure, I think I fucked up the scale of some things.”
“Nah, you’d hardly notice.”
“Hm.”
“When did you change your mind about art school?”
“Huh?”
“I thought you wanted to pursue it. I remember you saying that a while back.”
She scoffs, “Oh yeah, years ago. It’s not a practical choice though. What am I going to do with an art degree? Work in McDonalds? I think it’s better that I go for something with more prospects like, um, law or business or medicine.”
I smile, “Yeah. Okay. I think that’s your dad talking.”
“That’s what I think,” Evan pipes up, “Don’t I always say it, Michelle? They’re all boring choices, and you are so not boring. You’re a creative soul.”
“Aw, thanks baby.”
It takes all of my willpower to resist pulling a face. Baby? I almost say something about how horrendous it is for me to be subjected to their emo love before I remember that my task is to be nice to them. It’s going so well, I shouldn’t jeopardise it no matter how tempting.
“Hey,” she spins back to me, “Can I see that drawing you did of me in class? You never showed me in the end.”
“Well, you didn’t ask,” I flip a few pages back and hold it up to her, her own face, a direct, impatient gaze and mouth slightly pursed in concentration. She stares at it like she’s gazing into a mirror.
“You made me look very pretty,” She decides after several moments.
I steal a glance at her. It’s not difficult to, because she is very pretty, she’s always been that way as long as I've known her with those deep, dark brown eyes and heart shaped face. It is her personality and attitude in the last couple of years that's the real pity. I smirk, “Well, you know, I appreciate you saying that, because it really wasn’t easy for me…”
“God, you’re insufferable,” she complains, rolls her eyes and turns away.
I go back to my crocuses.
Beginning // Prev // Next
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Times Like These
Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x GN!Reader
Author’s Note: A short oneshot for today! I got this idea while at the beach the other week. Leon gets to have a peaceful, relaxing time on vacation. Also trying out a new format, took some nice photos there. Enjoy!
Content Warnings: None, fluff, domestic bliss, gender neutral language for reader, Leon is trans but just his chest scars are mentioned.
September, in your opinion, is the best time to visit the beach. Not too hot and not too many visitors either, which is ideal for your boyfriend, Leon. He gets antsy around crowds of people, but due to his line of work, it’s understandable.
You two prepared the car for the trip down to the gulf, bags and suitcases stacked in the back of Leon’s Jeep Wrangler. It takes around five hours to drive to your destination, a relatively comfortable, easy, and short road trip, the silence filled with Leon’s divorced dad rock music.
Arriving at the condo midday, you two settle in for the week-long stay, before making your way down the short boardwalk to the beach. Once you’ve finished setting up your canopy and chairs, you make a beeline for the shore, shell bag in hand.
Leon follows you, sitting further back to avoid the brunt of the waves. You sit on your knees, finding out quickly that it’s the optimum way to remain upright while the waves wash against you while digging for shells.
Securing the net’s string around your wrist, you begin to dig into the sand, searching. Brushing against something, you wrap your hand around it, pulling up a lightning whelk shell, fully intact! “Aha! Look, honey!” You exclaimed, showing off your successful find.
“Oh, wow! Fully intact, too. Good job sweetheart,” Leon says, smiling at you. You grin back, going back to digging. As you move further in, the waves begin their assault against you, periodically a whap against your back while you hunt. Not paying it any mind, you continue, whereas Leon has taken notice.
“Baby, the waves are hitting you pretty hard, do you want to move up some? Get away from them?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. “No, I’m okay! They aren’t bothering me!” You reply back, slightly distracted by your current activity.
“Well, why don’t we swim some? Your bag looks pretty full.” He was right. Glancing down, you hadn’t realized how many you had already found. You nod, cinching your shell bag closed, you bring it back to your spot on the beach. After dropping it off, you head back to the shoreline, Leon having gotten up already and wading into the water.
Following him out, you swim out where the water is up to your chest, beginning to float. You let the waves rock your body, a lulling rhythm as you lean back, closing your eyes and letting yourself float on the surface.
You feel something brush against your back, startling you. Letting out a shout, your body jolting and beginning to move away, before arms encircle your waist. “Jus’ me, baby,” Leon whispers in your ear, having swam up underneath you, now cradling your body against his.
“Almost gave me a heart attack,” You mutter, relaxing against his hold. He chuckles, “Gotta keep you on your feet, don’t I?” He responds. You let out a giggle, squeezing his forearm that keeps you against him. You two float there, staring up at the azure sky. The sounds of seagulls flying overhead and the lapping of the waves creating a peaceful ambiance.
Leon sighs, closing his eyes and letting the burdens and stress float away with the current. “This is so nice,” You whisper, laying your head against his shoulder. “Yeah, it is. Even nicer with you here with me, baby.” He kisses the top of your head, smelling of saltwater and faintly of sunscreen.
You hum, nodding your head. Glad to have this time with him. It’s not often he’s allowed some time away from work, especially not for a week. But he was promised the entirety of his vacation wouldn’t be disturbed, allowing him alone time with you.
You two stay there, treading water, for what seems like hours. You begin to grow tired, knowing it wouldn’t be wise to fall asleep in the water, regardless if Leon is holding you up. You decide to swim back to shore, wanting to also take a closer look at all the shells you found.
“I’m going to head back, okay?” You detach yourself from him, heading for the shore. “Don’t get tide get you!” You call out. “Don’t worry, if the current sweeps me out to sea, just collect the life insurance.” Him and his dry ass humor. “Leon!” You yell, snapping your head back towards him. He just laughs, amused at your reaction.
Reaching land, you sit down on the towel laid out, dumping out the contents of your bag, assorting them from biggest to the smallest. Not long after, Leon joins you, body glistening from the ocean water, his chest scars faint against his skin. He begins toweling off his hair as he sits down on one of the beach chairs. As he works on drying his body, he begins watching you work, a content smile spreading across his features.
Your hands make quick work of organizing the shells, moving fast as concentration furrows your brow. Leon then notices the color washing over your features, turning to look at the sun bathing the beach in a variety of colors that leave him awestruck.
You glance up at Leon, taking notice of him staring off into the eventide, seemingly lost in thoughts. His body relaxed, face serene. You get up and make your way over to him, holding your hand out. “Let’s take a walk along the shore,” You say, catching his attention. He grins up at you, grabbing your hand and pulling himself up.
You walked alongside him, hand in hand. The sun begins to dip below the horizon, bathing the sky in hues of gold and orange. Something like this, so domestic, seemed far out of reach for Leon. He allows himself to fantasize, hopeful that one day times like these won’t last just a week at a time, but every day for the rest of his life, with you by his side.
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Can you write something where Mat Barzal fell in love with the team physical therapist and she also fell in love with him ?
as an occupational therapy student this pains me...
you begin working for the islanders organization at the beginning of the 2022-2023 season
the first time you meet mat is at a preseason team dinner where the medical team and the players all attend
mat noticed you right away and was def chirped by marty and zeeker for staring too long
"who is she? havent seen her around."
"thats y/n. shes the teams newest physical therapist. she will be with us at home and on the road if needed."
fast foward a couple of months, you and mat are joined at the hip
you spend all your free time hanging out with each other: early morning coffee dates, late night drives after games, movies nights cuddled up on the couch
you werent sure after which of your countless platonic hangouts did you start to look at mat differently
maybe it was after matt martins 2023 poker tournament or maybe it was after a long road trip where he came over and demanded you cuddle him until your arms went numb
mat knew from the moment he saw you that he would fall in love with you
falling in love with you was the easy part, not showing it was the hard part for mat
he tried to remain subtle but every cuddle sesh had him wanting more and it takes everything in him to not kiss you after a home game win when he sees you walking in the hallway back to your office
without fail, mat will visit you in the physical therapy room at least twice a week
he doesnt even need anything most of the time, he just wants to chat. he wants the chance to be in your presence and just admire your beauty
the first time mat admits, out loud, that he loves you is when you are asleep in his arms (or so he thinks) and he whispers "im so in love with you and you have no idea. wish you would let me call you mine some day."
although you are not an official wag, sydney martin always makes sure to include you at wag events
the girls are so invested in you and mat getting together
they are the first people you admit to that you like mat, maybe even love him; but they already knew that
"girls, i cant. im the teams physical therapist. plus he only sees me as a friend. he would never see me like that."
mat takes you as a plus one to a wedding during the offseason
of course you color coordinate (mats request) and the other guests cant help but comment on how cute you two are
during the bouquet toss, you stand in the back hoping that the bouquet wouldnt come close to you
you were wrong as it lands perfectly in your hands
you run up to mat all excited and gushing about how pretty the bouquet is and how unexpected it was to catch it
in the middle of your ramblings mat mutters "fuck it" under his breath and pulls you in for a passionate kiss
"wow. that was just..." you say breathlessly
"yeah. ive been waiting to do that for months."
not really physical therapist specific but hope you enjoy anon
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Road trip Rooster write it I dare you
....You come at me again with the daring. Based on this post
Also this got way away from me. Not beta-read.
Length: 7.6K
Warnings: Huddling for warmth in a cold car, slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, angst, fluff, there was only one bed, friends to lovers, feelings of jealousy, explicit sexual content—vaginal sex, breast play
Rating: 18+ Only. Minors interacting with this work will be blocked.
Summary: Bradley Bradshaw has been your best friend since you were kids. Have you been in love with him since you were sixteen? Sure. But he doesn’t know that.
“Big man, haaaaad to take his car.”
“Alright.”
“Never mind the fact that it’s like, 20 years older than he is—”
“Alright—”
“And has a soft top that leaks heat like a…”
You go quiet as Bradley arches his brows, waiting for you to finish your remark. When you don’t, he waves his hand, prompts:
“Like a…?”
“Like a heat-leaker.”
“Wow.”
“Shut up. I don’t have to be clever, I’m fucking cold.”
Bradley rolls his eyes, reaching into the backseat and drawing up a few blankets.
“We knew this might happen, we prepared,” He reminds you. “C’mon.”
You don’t gripe that prepared should’ve meant having enough gas to get you to the next town. You just huff as Bradley turns in his seat, swinging one of his legs up and pushing it across the console and behind you. You scooch across the console and lean back against his chest, drawing your legs up to stretch across the seats before holding still as he layers and tucks three blankets around your upper bodies. You want to argue further, but with the little cocoon he’s created, and the heat of his body behind you, you’re actually starting to warm up a little. Bradley slides his arms under the blankets to curl around your middle. You let your eyes slip closed, then squeeze a touch as he takes hold of your hands in his, rubbing them gently for warmth.
“If we got in the back and took the soft top down,” Bradley murmurs, “We could see the stars.”
“You can see them when I kick you out of the car.”
“You’d kick me out of my own car?”
“Yes I would, Mister ‘We Don’t Need to Stop at That Gas Station, We’ve Only Got a Little Ways Before the Next Motel’.”
“I miscalculated.”
“Damn right you did. Being on leave is making you sloppy—Ow!” You squeak, squirming as Bradley pinches your side. You elbow him in the side in turn, giggling as he tightens his grip on you.
“Get some sleep,” He urges softly. You huff through your nose, tipping your head back against his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck to warm the chilled tip of your nose.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
--
“I think I have a crick in my neck.”
“Oh, please.”
“Tell you what, the second I get cell reception again, I’m making an appointment for a chiropractor.”
Bradley doesn’t respond, just shovels a forkful of eggs into his mouth, chewing slowly and watching you dispassionately. You can’t help but break into a smile the longer your stare-off goes, and you dip your head, stabbing at your pancakes as you hear Bradley chuckle across from you.
“Such a drama queen.”
“This from a man that talks to his car.”
“That’s not dramatic. That’s just polite.”
“It’s weird is what it is.”
“How are y’all findin’ everything?”
You glance up at the waitress’ question, offering a small smile and a, “It’s great, thanks,” As she tops up your mug of coffee, then shifts to fill Bradley’s. You make the mistake of glancing over at Bradley, and catching sight of him smiling up at her before he murmurs his thanks. You glance between him and the waitress before you force yourself to glance out of the window, taking a gulp of your fresh cup of coffee and trying to drown the jealousy bubbling up in you.
You really have no right to be jealous. Bradley Bradshaw has been your best friend since you were kids. Have you been in love with him since you were sixteen? Sure. But he doesn’t know that. How could he? You’ve never said a thing—you’ve never even hinted. You’ve had romantic relationships with other people. You’ve been telling yourself for the longest time that if you just ignore the feelings you have for him, they’ll go away.
So far, no luck. You can’t begrudge the guy some flirting, of course—he’s on leave, he’s relaxing. But hell, you don’t exactly like to watch.
“You ready to go?”
Bradley’s question jolts you from your moody window-watching, and you nod, setting your coffee mug down and scooching out of the booth. You shove your hands into your pockets and give the waitress a small smile (you can’t hate her; it’s not like she asked Bradley to make eyes at her over the dregs of your breakfast) before heading out of the diner. You’re only a step or two outside before Bradley flings his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You wobble a little, unable to help the way your smile widens as he keeps you close.
“You know where we’re goin’?” He asks.
“Uh-huh. You want me to drive?”
“I need a damn nap.”
“Now who’s being a drama queen?”
“I had a hike this morning to that gas station and back,” He reminds you.
“Mm, and why did you have to do that again?”
“Alright,” Bradley groans. He fishes into his jacket pocket and waits for you to hold out your palm before slapping his keys into it. You climb into the driver’s side, adjusting the seat and mirrors as you need before buckling up. You glance over, making sure that Bradley’s buckled in as well before you start the car. Bradley slouches down in the seat, drawing his discarded jacket up around himself as a blanket.
“We have real blankets.”
“This is already warm,” Bradley mumbles.
He’s asleep before you hit town limits. You stop at a red light and glance over, biting back a laugh. His sunglasses are askew; his mouth is wide open; his jacket is beginning to slip, showing the slope and bulge of his bicep. You reach out, gently adjusting the jacket around his shoulders before turning back to the road.
--
You’ve been doing these road trips every year since he enlisted. You fly to wherever he’s stationed and take his car from there. You’ve chosen different destinations every time, though it’s typically been a three day drive from whichever base he’s stationed at. If you guys take your time driving wherever it is, it eats up about a week and a half of his leave.
Of course, you keep in touch with Bradley no matter he’s stationed, but having this much uninterrupted time with him is both a blessing and a curse. You love your time with Bradley, of course—but you’re also in love with Bradley. You savor your time spent with him, and do your damndest to ignore the looks he gets from women, and the flirting and one night stands that he’s had in the past. You’ve had one night stands, sure, but never on these trips. He at least goes out of his way to go to their place. Still, it’s made some of your lonely nights in your cheap, cruddy motel room seem all the more cheap and cruddy.
He hasn’t gotten together with anyone on this trip. You’re a day away from reaching your destination; you’ll have three days in Portland, and then three days driving back. He’s got time.
The thought makes your stomach squirm with discomfort. You sigh softly, resting your head on your hand and peering out through the windshield, a single hand on the wheel. It’s a quiet stretch of road, and empty enough that you could floor it if you wanted to. You won’t, though. You don’t want to hit some rough patch of road and jolt Bradley awake.
A couple of hours later, you glance over, doing a double take as you see Bradley shift, then yawn widely. You turn your gaze back to the road as he pushes himself up in the seat, letting his jacket slide down to his lap.
“Why isn’t there music or anything?” He mumbles, voice a touch rough from his nap.
“I didn’t wanna wake you up.”
“I would’a be fine.”
You shrug a little as Bradley reaches out, flicking on the radio. You wince as static blares across the speakers, and relax as he hurriedly turns the volume down with a mutter of, “Shit, sorry.”
You only half-listen as he works the dial back and forth, looking for a signal. He finally manages to hit on some alt-rock channel. You glance over, smiling as he wrinkles his nose a little before leaning back in his seat, muttering, “Better than nothing.” He yawns widely again, stretches, then closes his eyes, tipping his head back against the seat. “How long was I out?”
“Couple of hours.”
“Mm.”
“You wanna stop?”
“Mm…How long are we on this?”
“We’re taking this the rest of the way, but our next scheduled stop is in about an hour.”
“I can wait.”
“You sure?”
“Uh-huh.” It’s another moment before Bradley twists in his seat, rooting around in a bag for a moment before you hear the crinkle of a wrapper and see him settle back down in your periphery. “We cross into Oregon yet?”
“Bout an hour ago.”
“Aww, you didn’t wake me up,” Bradley pouts, opening the protein bar he’s grabbed.
“What precisely did you want me to wake you up for?”
“You know, that thing we do where we say ‘Welcome to blah blah blah’...And we go, Wooo!” He waves his hands for emphasis before taking a bite from the bar.
“You wanna do it now?”
“No,” He grumbles, moodily tearing the snack's wrapper. “Won’t be the same.”
You roll your eyes. “You realize this little performance is cementing you as the biggest drama queen in this car?”
“Til we have to sleep in here again, yeah,” He says between bites of the bar.
“Oh,” You laugh, shaking your head, “That is not happening again.”
“Ever?”
“Never.”
“You’re gonna hurt her feelings.”
“She doesn’t have feelings. She’s not even a she. It’s a car, not a Transformer.”
“One more wisecrack like that and I’m revoking your driving privileges.”
“Sorry daaaaaad.”
“Smartass.”
“Dumbass.”
“Here.”
You glance down, spotting the half-eaten protein bar. You dip your head, taking a bite out of it before looking up again, chewing before muttering your thanks.
“Want another bite?” He asks.
“Nah, ‘m alright.”
“C’mooooon,” Bradley waves it back and forth beneath your nose, “You know you wannaaaa. They’re your faaaavoriiiiiite.”
You snort, leaning out of the brush of the bar against your lip.
“Cut it out,” You chuckle, “Seriously, I’m fine.”
“It’s the last one.”
You duck your head, catching hold of the rest of the bar and tugging it out of the wrapper with your teeth. Bradley laughs beside you, and you raise your hand, taking hold of the bit of the bar still hanging out of your mouth.
“Should’a said in the first place,” You mutter as you chew. “We’ll have to get more in Eugene.”
“Might have some wherever we’re stopping for lunch.”
“Maybe. I kinda wanna make Medford a quick stop.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause if we get to Eugene by four, we can check in, get in a quick nap, grab some dinner, and go to the Track Town Fall Fair.”
“Wee-hoo!” Bradley crows. “Goddamn, I don’t know how you always find a fair when we take these trips.”
“Doesn’t matter how I employ my dark powers, only that I use it for good.”
“For good?”
“Yes. We get whiplash from the bumper cars, you get funnel cake, and then you win me a toy at the shooting gallery.”
“You make a…fair point.”
“Fuck, Bradshaw, that was awful,” You laugh, then pop the rest of the protein bar into your mouth.
--
The fair is bright, and poppy, and loud. You can’t help but grin as you and Bradley stroll through the rows of games and food stalls. There’s a ferris wheel not too far off, lit up and spinning lazily.
“Bumper cars first?” You ask.
“I think we oughta wait for dinner to settle,” Bradley winces. He curls his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You cuddle close, wrapping your arm around his waist and looking around.
“What, then?”
“You’re so impatient,” He chuckles, lips brushing your temple as he turns his head.
“Am not,” You mumble.
“Bet I can kick your ass at milk bottles.”
“Oh, you’re on, Bradshaw.”
--
There’s only one bed.
You knew that when you got there—when the receptionist at the motel told you blandly that they only had a single available, and would that be alright. You didn’t have much of a choice—you’d looked into the other motels in the area, and they were either full-up, or had alarming reviews. You managed to forget during the fair. You were so caught up in it—in the churros, and the funnel cake, and the bumper cars, and the ferris wheel, and the tilt-a-whirl—
But you remember as soon as you come back that there’s only one bed. Well, it’s hard to miss. It’s the biggest thing in the bland little room. You find yourself absently drawing the plush shark toy that Bradley won you a little closer to yourself. You walk around to your side of the bed (well, what you’ve decided is your side of the bed), and set the shark down on the bedside table.
“You wanna take the bathroom first?” Bradley asks.
“Nah, you go ahead.”
“You sure?”
“Mhm.” You smile at Bradley, watching him head into the bathroom and waiting for him to shut the door before you hurriedly get changed into your sweatpants and sleep shirt. You grab your toiletry bag as you hear Bradley open the bathroom door.
You take a little longer than necessary to wash your face and brush your teeth. It’s not going to be so weird sharing a bed with Bradley. You’ve shared beds before. Hell, you shared the car just last night. You sigh, bracing your hands on the sink. Maybe you’re less worried about being weird, and more worried about getting used to the feeling of Bradley holding you like he holds other girls.
--
It’s a tight squeeze. The two of you shift back and forth, trying to find the best position before you both burst into laughter.
“Here,” He chuckles, rolling onto his side, “Roll over.”
You shift, turning over to rest on your side. It’s only a moment before Bradley tugs you back against his chest to keep you from falling out of bed.
“Alright?” He asks.
“Mhm,” You hum as steadily as you can. You can vaguely make out the outline of the shark on the nightstand. You bite your lip as Bradley’s nose brushes the nape of your neck.
“Night, Bradley,” You murmur.
“Night.”
--
You’re not sure how long it takes you to knock out. You just know that when you wake up, the room is flooding with blue morning light, and Bradley seems to still be sound asleep. He’s breathing steadily behind you. His roughening cheek is tickling your nape (he almost never shaves when he’s on leave). His fingers flex where they’re curled in your t-shirt, then slide a touch, brushing the skin of your belly. You bite your lip, fighting to keep your breathing even.
You could get up, of course—you probably wouldn’t wake him. You could slide from his grasp and shower, or grab your phone and check in with your family, or go out to the car and double-check the route for that day (there’s really no need to double-check—it’s the I-5 straight up to Portland).
Instead, you slide your hand down over Bradley’s, resting it gently there, ready to pull it away at any second. When Bradley doesn’t shift or make a sound, you relax back against him. You let yourself close your eyes again, and revel in the closeness.
--
Your first day in Portland is busy. You’ve gone to the International Rose Test Garden, gone to the farmer’s market, and explored the Alberta Arts District. Your second day, you and Bradley split up and do your own thing, like you always do. You meet for drinks that night (having already gone back to your hotel room and deposited all of the books that you bought at Powell’s City of Books).
“You gonna make me guess how many you bought?” Bradley asks, picking at the basket of fries rules that you’ve been sharing.
“You’ll see later.”
“Damn. It’s gotta be bad if you’re not even giving me a hint,” Bradley chuckles before nodding to your empty beer. “You want another one?”
“Mhm.”
Before Bradley can get the bartender’s attention, someone comes up to the bar beside him, calling, “Ay, Charlie!”
The bartender waves his acknowledgement. The man nods, then glances over toward you and Bradley with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry,” He chuckles. His gaze catches on yours, then sweeps your body. You turn your head, taking up a few fries and shoving them into your mouth. The bartender comes over, taking the guy’s order, then taking Bradley’s. The guy knocks on the bar, drawing your attention just a touch before he walks back to his friends.
“...I saw that,” Bradley says. You shake your head, humming in a noncommittal way. Bradley scoffs out a laugh, tacking on, “C’mon.”
“What?” You ask, turning to get a better look at him. His brows raise, head tipping forward just a touch.
“What?” You repeat, shrugging irritatedly. Bradley looks back in the direction that the guy went in.
“He’s not bad,” He offers. “A little scrawny.”
“Okay.”
“Looks like he uses natural deodorant that doesn’t work and only drinks IPAs.”
“You can let it go now.”
“Why not go for it?” Bradley presses. “You’re never gonna see these people again…Or maybe you will,” He nudges your shoulder with his. “Maybe he’s your soulmate.”
“My soulmate wouldn’t use natural deodorant.”
“What about his taste in IPAs?”
“Irrelevant.”
“So?”
“Let it go, Bradley.”
“Alright.” And he does, for a moment. Then—“There someone you’re not telling me about?”
“What?” You scoff.
“Just—It’s been a while, you know, since you’ve told me about anyone.”
“Maybe there hasn’t been anyone to talk about, you think about that?”
“I mean, maybe, but that doesn’t make sense.”
“Oh, please—”
“You’re smart, you’re beautiful—”
You’re gonna be sick—
“You’re an amazing person,” Bradley tacks on as the bartender sets your drinks down, “I don’t get how you haven’t found somebody—”
“Okay, you know what.”
You take hold of your beer, sliding off of the bar stool and striding over to the guy that had given you that look. You’re doing it out of spite; you’re doing it because you can’t listen to Bradley say any more of what he was saying, how he was saying it.
You don’t know what time Bradley leaves. You don’t know what time you get back to your hotel room. You just know that you’re alone, and tired, and in a shitty mood. You look moodily at the plush shark that you’ve put on your bed, then take it up. You drop it onto the armchair in the corner of the room, putting your jacket over it before you plop onto the bed. You let yourself sag back against the mattress, drawing in a deep, shaking breath. Stupid. What you’d done was so, so stupid. Bradley was just asking a question. Sure, it was a question that you were deeply uncomfortable with, a question that you couldn’t answer without ruining the greatest friendship in your life.
Hell—you worry that you may’ve ruined it, anyway.
--
There’s a knock on your door at nine the next morning. You step out of your bathroom, toothbrush still clenched between your teeth. You peer through the peephole, then step back, opening the door.
Bradley looks as unsure as you feel. You nod him inside, shutting the door behind him and hurrying back to the bathroom to finish brushing your teeth. When you come back out, you find Bradley sitting on the edge of the bed, your plush shark in his hands. He glances up at you, then back down at the shark.
“You name him yet?” He asks. You walk over to Bradley, sitting down beside him.
“I think he looks like a Milton.”
“Milton?” He repeats, brows raising. “...Guess I can see it.”
The two of you sit in silence for a little while before Bradley finally offers:
“Sorry I pushed.”
“S’okay...Sorry I threw a fit.”
“S’okay. I couldn’t keep the title of biggest drama queen in the car.”
Bradley nudges your shoulder lightly with his, and you nudge his in turn, unable to help the small smile growing on your lips.
“Can I ask an inappropriate question?” Bradley hedges.
“I didn’t fuck him.”
“Okay.”
“...Was that the question?”
“Yep…Wanna go get breakfast?”
“Yep.”
--
“Ho…Ly…Fuck.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Shut up.”
“Did you get all’a these in case we run out of gas again?” Bradley asks, scanning the stack of books that you bought in the corner of the trunk. “You know, enough to read, and enough to keep a fire going?”
“We are not going to run out of gas,” You insist, heaving your bag into the trunk.
“What if we do?”
“I’m never going to talk to you again.”
“No really, what if we do.”
“No really, I’m never going to talk to you again.”
“...But if we do.”
You sigh heavily, leaning against the car and resting your hand on your popped hip. “If we do,” You press on the word, “Then you’re sleeping in the backseat alone, without any blankets.”
“Guess I can cuddle up with all of your books. All…One, two, three, four—”
“Shut up.”
“Hang on, I’m still counting—”
“Shut up—”
“I just reached double digits—”
“I will close the car door on your hand.”
--
“Bye Oregoooon—” You call over Bradley’s,
“Welcome to California!”
You each let out a Wooo! as he drives back across state lines.
“Made it up on the way back,” Bradley grins, settling back in the driver’s seat and glancing into the mirror, then over his shoulder as he changes lanes.
“You happy now?” You ask.
“Been happy the whole time.”
“The whole time?”
“Ninety-eight percent.”
“Think I can guess the two percent.”
“Bet you can’t.”
“Oh no?”
“No.”
“So it wasn’t the fight?”
“No. Friends fight sometimes, we’re fine.”
“So what was it?”
“It was the fact that you kicked my ass at milk bottles.”
You cackle, smile widening as Bradley looks at you with a grin.
“You’re insane, Bradshaw.”
“You know it, baby.”
You’re still laughing at him, so the term of endearment manages to bounce off of you outwardly. Inwardly, it sinks into your chest. It was probably a slip-up, a one-off—but you’re gonna be thinking about it a lot.
--
“Thank you, ma’am.”
You only just manage not to roll your eyes at his murmur, and his smile. Ma’am. For cryin’ out loud. Bradley’s always been polite, sure, but the way he leans into ma’am now is surely something he’s accidentally picked up from Hangman. It’s gotta be—though you don’t think he’d admit to it. Hell, he might even take offense to it.
You’ll have to keep that in your back pocket for later.
For now, you just pick your fork up, poke at what is, frankly, a fantastic piece of key lime pie, and ignore the way the waitress giggles and tells Bradley that he’s welcome—anytime. But you can’t help the nagging question that you loose once she walks away:
“Gonna go for it?”
“Go for what?” Bradley frowns. “I was just being nice.”
You raise your brows at him a touch before you concede: “Okay.” You don’t want another fight like Portland. Bradley takes up the other fork, snagging a piece of pie. He doesn’t eat it right away, offers, “I mean she’s cute, but…”
“But what?”
“I’m not interested.”
“...Okay.”
“Wanna know why I’m not interested?”
“If you wanna tell me.”
You glance over at Bradley, waiting. Instead of answering, he takes a bigger chunk out of the pie and crams it into his mouth. You snort, rolling your eyes.
“Good answer, Bradshaw.”
--
“‘Just a little detour’,” You mimic.
“Alright.”
“‘We’ll just take a few of the calmer backroads’.”
“Alright.”
“‘May as well get a better look at the state’—”
“Alright,” Bradley groans loudly, getting back into the car from adjusting the soft top, slamming the door shut behind himself. You huff, wrapping your arms around your middle and glaring at the darkening sky through the windshield.
“Can’t believe this,” You grumble.
“I said I was sorry.”
“Hmph.”
“...You want me to walk back to the gas station now?”
“No.”
“...You gonna make me sleep in the backseat?”
“I should.”
“But?”
“Just get the blankets, Bradshaw.”
The two of you get into position faster than last time. You lean back against his chest, arms folded petulantly over your middle as he tucks you both in. When he worms his hands under the blankets, you tuck your hands under your armpits, out of his reach. You feel Bradley patting along your folded arms for your hands, and hear him sigh as he feels your wrists tucked so tightly against your body.
“Gimme your hands.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“You can’t keep ‘em like that all night. They’ll fall asleep.”
“Good.”
Bradley groans frustratedly. He curls around you, pressing his face into your neck. You curl your hands more tightly into fists, fighting to ignore the rising tide of affection. You’re annoyed. You’re gonna stay annoyed.
“Please give me your hands,” He murmurs. You glare through the opposite window for a moment. Then your eyelids flutter as Bradley smooths his hands over your shoulders, warming you. You let your eyes close fully, drawing in a deep breath. Damnit. Damn this man. You hesitate, then unfold your arms, drawing your hands out. You feel Bradley’s lips pull into a smile, and bite your lip as you think you feel him drop a kiss to your neck. He takes hold of your hands, intertwining your fingers and settling the two of you back again, cuddling you close and curling his arms around you.
“...Thin ice, Bradshaw,” You mutter.
“Sweet dreams.”
“Hmph.”
--
“You still mad at me?”
You lift your hand away from the steering wheel just long enough to flip him off before reaching for your coffee cup.
“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad,” Bradley tacks on.
“You’re paying for my chiropractor.”
“Drama queen.”
“Asshat.”
“Whoa, hey,” He reaches into the backseat, drawing up your plush shark. “Don’t swear in front of the kid.”
You roll your eyes, shaking your head.
“Watch it with your speed,” Bradley adds, setting Milton down in his lap.
“I’m going like fifteen over the limit.”
“I know, that’s why I said to watch it.”
“I’m trying to get us back on track. Your scenic route has taken more time than we originally budgeted, and that’s not counting your second gas mishap.”
“I’ve got ‘til the end of the week, you don’t have to speed home.”
“Yeah, but I don’t. I have a flight back home on Thursday.”
“Could change the ticket. You took Friday off, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but changing it this late isn’t gonna be cheap.” You glance over when Bradley goes quiet and find him fiddling with Milton’s tail. You turn to look out of the windshield again, biting the inside of your cheek. You sigh softly, taking your foot off of the gas and merging out of the fast lane. “I’ll take a look the next time you’re driving,” You offer after a moment.
“...’Kay.”
You reach out, blindly poking at Bradley’s cheek, muttering, “Cut it out.”
“What?”
“Pouting.”
“I’m not pouting—Ow!” Bradley whacks at your hand as you accidentally jab him in the nose. You huff, eyeing the road signs.
“Hey Bradshaw.”
“What.”
“You ever been to Santa Barbara?”
“No.”
May as well. You glance in the rear view, flipping your signal on and merging toward the exit.
“What are you doing?” Bradley frowns. You shrug, putting your foot down to make the exit on time.
“Just taking a little detour.”
--
You usually hate not having a plan when you’re visiting somewhere new, but this time, you’re just letting yourself wander. You go to the zoo, you spend time at the wharf. Sunset finds the two of you sitting on the beach, your shoes discarded, the sand beneath your toes. The breeze coming off of the water is a touch chilly, and you smile as Bradley rests his jacket around your shoulders. You scooch closer to him, pressing your thigh against his. You watch the waves as they creep up the beach and retreat, and listen to the steady lap of them.
Bradley sighs, curling his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer, nuzzling against your temple. You cuddle into him, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes, letting the feeling of his body and the sound of the rolling waves envelope you.
--
“I don’t like fighting with you,” He mumbles.
“What, ‘cause I love it?”
“You know what I mean.”
You smile, snuggling a little closer to Bradley. The only available room at the motel had two twin beds, which was more than reasonable for your needs. You’d started out in your own bed, but when you hadn’t been able to sleep, you’d climbed into bed with him. He’d pulled his covers up around you without missing a beat, drawing you into his chest. You slide a leg over his now, wrapping your arm around his middle and shifting your head on his shoulder. He slides his hand up and down your back in slow, soothing movements.
“...It never feels like enough,” Bradley admits softly. You frown, tipping your chin up to look at him. Before you can ask, he tacks on, “My time with you. Never feels like enough.”
You lower your head, biting your lip and nodding.
“I know,” You murmur. “Doesn’t feel like enough for me, either.”
Bradley sighs, nuzzling your hair and drawing in a deep breath.
“Go to sleep, Bradley.”
“I don’t wanna.”
“Why?”
“The sooner I do, sooner it’ll be morning. Sooner it’s morning, sooner you’ll go home.”
You smile, chest fluttering as you curl your fingers in the fabric of his sleep shirt.
“So you’re gonna stay up all night and make me do all of the driving tomorrow?” You tease.
“Long as you promise to ease up on that lead foot.”
“Oh, please. Doing 75 in a 60 mile zone is not a lead foot.”
“Damn near.”
“Vying for the title of drama queen again?”
Bradley chuckles softly. Your stomach flips as his fingers bunch the fabric of your shirt up a little, his pinkie trailing over your lower back.
“Go to sleep, Bradley.”
“Make me.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?”
“I don’t know, you’ll think of something.”
You snort, tipping your head up and resting your chin on his shoulder. You move a little too fast—Bradley’s still nuzzling against your hair as you shift. His lips brush over your forehead, then skim down the slope of your nose. As you go still, Bradley’s breath brushes your lips. Your heart pounds in your ears; you’re certain your palm is sweating where it’s pressed against his shirt. You can’t quite make out Bradley’s expression in the dim light of the room. You feel his fingers tightening in your shirt before he tips his chin. His lips brush, then press warmly against yours. Your eyes widen a touch, your heart leaping into your throat. Shit—shit. This is everything you’ve ever wanted, but you suddenly find that you can’t move.
Your shock and inaction seem to draw Bradley out of whatever’s overtaken him, and your heart drops into your stomach as he leans away, mumbling, “Shit—Shit, I’m sorry—”
Your brain catches up with your body, your hand lifting away from his shirt as Bradley starts to push himself to sit up. Another apology is falling from his lips as you hook your fingers in his collar, drawing him close again. He doesn’t finish his second I’m sorry as you catch his lips in a kiss. Your panicked thoughts go quiet as his hands flex, then clutch at your wrist. You nearly whimper as Bradley draws you fully on top of him, his groan vibrating against your lips. You plant one of your hands in the mattress, using it to hold yourself up over him as the two of you shift and adjust. He slips his hand up under your shirt, fingers splaying wide against your back. You slide your hand up from his collar to cup his cheek, palm pricking with the feeling of his stubble.
You lightly slip your tongue along the seam of his lips, whimpering softly as Bradley’s lips part, his tongue teasing tenderly against yours. He moans, tipping his head a touch. Your kisses deepen, your tongues twining as you press your bodies together. Bradley gives your shoulder a nudge as he shifts the two of you to sit up. You lean back, gripping the hem of your top and tugging it up and off. You see Bradley’s shirt flung to the side before he raises his hands, cupping your face and drawing you back in. You shift on the bed, straddling his hips and pressing closely to him.
It shouldn’t be so easy. It shouldn’t be so easy to sink into his arms, into his kisses, into his touch like this. It should feel foreign, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. You smooth your fingers through his hair, curling the strands around your fingers and giving a slight tug. Bradley’s lips part in a moan and you dive in, sweeping your tongue into his mouth. Bradley’s hands smooth over your sides, then up over your shoulders. His palms are a little rough from work, but his touch is careful, and tender. He ducks back from your kiss, pressing one of your chin before his lips drift, smoothing along the line of your throat. You shiver at the brush of his kisses, the light scrape of his facial hair leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
You tip your head down, biting your lip as Bradley gently grasps your breasts, massaging them. He dips his head, swiping his thumb over a budding nipple before lapping over it. You whimper, fingers tightening in his hair and pressing up against his lips. He draws your tit between his lips, giving it a suck, the tip of his tongue flicking against your nipple.
“Fuck, Bradley,” You mumble, hips shifting down against his. He hums softly, grinding up against you in turn.
“Lay back,” He murmurs against your skin. You do a little reluctantly, climbing off of his lap and laying back on the bed. Bradley hunkers down over you, fingers curling in the band of your pajama shorts. You feel him peering up at you in the darkness, his lips brushing your belly.
“Can I?” He murmurs. You nod, and Bradley tuts softly. “I gotta hear it, baby.”
You huff softly and reach down, resting your hands atop his.
“Yes,” You breathe, giving his hands a little squeeze.
--
You’ve imagined this, over and over. You’ve thought about how it might be between the two of you—tentative? Rushed? You’ve imagined what he would feel like—his body over yours, his thighs pushing yours wide, his breath brushing your skin.
You never could’ve thought it would be like this.
Your greedy cunt throbs around his cock as he eases it just a little deeper. Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulders, your eyes rolling back into your head as you adjust to him. He growls against your neck, the push and heat of his breath against your jaw.
“Bradley,” You whimper. He grunts in turn, smoothing his hand over the meat of your thigh and tugging it up just a touch higher around his hip. A broken curse leaves your lips as he eases in to the hilt. He tips his chin up, sinking his teeth into the skin of your neck, laying a sharp nip, then sucking the sting from the skin. You can’t bring yourself to gripe with him about the inevitable bloom of the hickey there. You just raise a hand to fist in his hair, turning your head and catching his lips in a heated kiss. Your grip tightens on him, pussy fluttering as he begins to shallowly roll his hips. You let your head tip back onto the pillows, eyes sliding shut as he leans away. You feel him shift, planting his knees before he draws back. Your breath is punched out of you as he begins to thrust steadily.
Your toes curl as you tip your hips up toward him. You don’t bother to stop or staunch the whines and pleas that slip past your lips. You open your eyes as you feel Bradley lean over you, tucking his hand beneath your head and tipping your head up just a touch. You find Bradley’s eyes searching your face; his mussed hair curls down over his forehead; his lips are puffed from your kisses, and parted. You watch as his tongue swipes along his plush lower lip, and you find yourself straining up for a kiss. He tightens his grip on your nape, humming softly as his lips meet yours in a desperate, searching kiss.
You push your body up against him, curling your legs around his and sliding your arms down his back. You pout when he draws back from you, and raise your brows as he rests his hands on the bedframe. You only have a moment to adjust, to catch sight of the devious curl of his lips before his hips begin to hammer against yours.
--
When you begin to rouse, you think it may’ve been a dream. And then you become acutely aware of the slightly scratchy sheets against your bare skin, the soreness in your body, and the warmth and press of Bradley’s body behind you on the narrow little bed. You breathe in elation, and then breathe out panic, your eyes opening wide.
You cannot believe you did that. What were the two of you thinking? And what the hell does this even mean? You’ve known Bradley in one way since you were kids and this is so, so terribly different. You draw in a shaky breath, smoothing your hand over your face and trying to steady yourself. This is going to be fine. Whatever this happens, this is going to be fine, right? You’re adults, you can talk about this calmly and rationally—
You suck in a stunned breath as you feel Bradley drawing you back into his chest, and can’t help the soft giggle that leaves you as he brushes his coarse cheek against your shoulder.
“Are you up yet?” He mumbles. “‘M hungry.”
“Mhm.”
“Think they do room service?”
“We’re not at a fucking Hilton, Bradley. The closest they’ve got here is an overpriced vending machine.”
“...We have to get dressed, huh.”
“Yep.”
“Lame.”
You smile, pushing yourself to sit up. You roll your neck, sighing softly as you release tension. Before you can get up, Bradley curls his hand around your wrist, mumbling, “Hey.”
You turn to look at him, a smile growing unwittingly on your lips as he blinks sleepily up at you. Fuck, he looks good. He looks relaxed, and happy. You never want to forget the sight of him like this. He tugs you back, pulling you to meet him halfway as he props himself up on his elbow. You lean in, pecking his lip, and grinning as his hand lifts from your wrist, cupping your cheek. You’re going to pull away. You’re going to get up, shower, get dressed, and look up places for the two of you to get breakfast…Right after this next kiss…Or the one after that…
You groan softly as Bradley’s arm hooks around your shoulder, drawing you back down with him. You rest your hand on his abs, cuddling into his chest as you trade soft, sleepy kisses.
“Mm…Bradley?”
“Mm.”
“I thought…” You mumble against his lips, between kisses. “I thought…We were getting breakfast.”
Bradley grunts, lowering his arm to grip the covers and pull them back up over the two of you.
“...In a minute.”
--
You’re still in bed an hour later. You groan softly, bouncing in his lap, grinding down on his cock as Bradley mottles the skin of your collarbone with his lips and teeth. His hands grasp your ass, squeezing and guiding you as he pants against your skin. You shiver as you feel a familiar stirring in your belly.
“Bradley,” You warn.
“Yeah?” He murmurs; you can hear the smile in his voice. You loose a shaky hum, nodding, curling your arms around his shoulders and cuddling closer.
“Fuck, c’mon,” He urges, driving his hips up into you. You whine his name out, squeezing down around him as your orgasm wells up and crests sharply. You keep bouncing, sensitive and shaking as Bradley keeps fucking up into you. It’s only another few moments before his hips stutter, then slam up. You moan as Bradley eases the two of you back, laying back down as his softening cock slips from you. You curl up into his side as his fingers sweep tenderly over the nape of your neck. You draw in a deep breath, the pounding of your heart slowing as the two of you come down together.
“...I’m starving,” He mumbles. You roll your eyes, a laugh bubbling up.
“Maybe we should get up?”
“Probably should. Why didn’t you suggest that before?”
“Oh, my god,” You roll your eyes, rolling over and sliding out of his arms, “You know what—”
“What, are you getting up or something?”
“I am showering alone, Bradshaw.”
“That doesn’t sound like any fun.”
“I’m not leaving you any hot water.”
--
“We should check out the maritime museum,” You comment, flipping through a pamphlet. Bradley snuggles closer to you, curling his arm around your shoulder and looking down at the pamphlet. You can only imagine the looks you’re getting with the way the two of you are curled up together on the same side of the booth. Frankly, you can’t bring yourself to care.
“Maybe next time,” He offers. You frown, turning to look at him.
“Why next time?”
He shrugs a little, raising his hand to scratch his cheek, his budding beard rasping beneath his nails.
“Gotta get you back down to San Diego. Flight’s tonight,” He reminds you softly. You smile, gently nudging his shoulder with yours.
“My flight’s on Saturday. I changed it while you were showering,” You admit. Friday flights had been way too pricey, and the time you got on Saturday is going to suck—but it gives you another day and a half with Bradley. His eyes widen a touch, a smile spreading across his lips.
“You did what?” He murmurs.
“I changed it,” You repeat flippantly before turning back to the pamphlet. “So. Museum?”
Bradley doesn’t say a thing. He just presses his face into your neck, peppering the skin with little kisses that tickle, making you giggle and squirm.
--
“We should probably talk about this.”
You practically say it into your dufflebag as you fold your pajama bottoms. You’re too nervous to say it to his face. You expect Bradley to make a joke. Instead, he reaches out, grasping your hips. You take a couple of wobbly steps back when he tugs, smiling as he draws you down into his lap. He curls his arms around your middle securely, resting his chin on your shoulder and sighing softly.
“If you wanna leave everything that’s happened here,” He offers softly, “I’d understand.”
You bite your lip, peering down at where he’s holding you. You smooth your hands over his, shaking your head a little.
“I don’t want that,” You admit before nervously asking, “Do you?”
“No.”
A relieved breath eases out of you, your shoulders untensing a little.
“Okay.”
You turn your head, pressing a kiss to his temple, smiling as he catches hold of your hands and intertwines your fingers.
“I’m gonna tell you something,” He warns, “And I think you’re gonna…Be a little mad about it.”
Your brow furrows at the assertion.
“Okay?”
“...I ran out of gas on purpose.”
“You what?” You howl, jumping up out of his lap and turning to face him. He’s smiling, hands up in apology.
“I—”
“Both times?”
“No! Just the second time. The first one was a total accident.”
“Why the—” You take up a pillow, whacking him lightly with him as he raises his hands and tries to catch hold of the pillow, “Why the—goddamn hell did you do that!”
“I wanted to spend more time with you!”
He says it through his laughter, but it makes you stop. He catches hold of the pillow, tugging you closer before gently prying it out of your grip and tossing it aside in favor of taking your hands.
“I wanted to spend more time with you,” He repeats, drawing you closer, “And I missed holding you.”
You sigh softly, squeezing his hands softly.
“There were easier ways to do that,” You mutter.
“I know.”
“...It was fricking cold.”
“I know.”
“I was so pissed.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”
You sigh heavily, shoulders sagging as the irritation drains fully from you.
“If you ever do that again on purpose—”
“I won’t.”
“You promise?”
“I swear.”
“You better.”
“I won’t…You still mad at me?”
“...No,” You pout. He grins, tugging you closer to stand between his legs, and you smile, unable to help yourself.
“You’re insane, Bradshaw.”
“You know it, baby.”
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an AU idea that i’ve been thinking about lately but i’m not sure i’d ever write is: sidious tries to clone a better version of anakin (without his knowledge) from DNA and matter taken from his severed limbs post-mustafar battle. but, with the sustained damage to the limbs and without the help or technology of kamino, none of it takes very well. only one of the clones actually survives and when tested at around age 3-4 it comes out that he isn’t force sensitive. and, also, he’s inherited a lot of anakin’s more disagreeable traits to the extreme, due to genetic changes and the impact of being raised as an almost-not-quite-dark-lord-of-the-sith from birth.
sidious, in a moment of sidious-like dark humor (and rage at the boy for not being what he wanted), arranges for the boy to be sent to tatooine to live under the ‘care’ of the hutts. this goes as you’d expect until, 7 or so years later, this 10-11 y/o furious, messed-up, came-back-wrong-but-somehow-even-worse, unaware he’s a clone of anakin, kid runs into… obi-wan kenobi, hot off the press of the events of the OWK series.
and obi-wan is like, no. nope. i’m not raising this kid. i don’t know how this happened or what the fuck the galaxy has against me now but no. i’ll figure out a way to free him and i’ll send him to live with the lars but i won’t raise him. so he gets anakin2 freed and they have the galaxy’s most hideous road trip out to the lars’ and they get on terribly and this kid is traumatisingly so like all of the worst parts of anakin with none of the redeeming features. he breaks obi-wan’s landspeeder trying to enhance it and he’s disagreeable and irritable and ungrateful and ungenerous and he isn’t even force sensitive or the chosen one. so obi-wan is straight up just putting up with him out of love for his old friend, who is now literally evil and just recently tried to kill him (again).
only obviously over the few days of their journey they warm to each other just a little. and obi-wan goes to leave 2anakin2skywalker with the lars’ and the kid is furious and hurt and they’re trying to comfort him all wrong and obi-wan is like “wait no he hates when you-“ and realises, fuck. i have to look after this kid. i want to look after this kid. there is nothing actually tying me here and no benefit beyond i kind of care about the little shit now. and i want him to be safe and happy in the same way i wanted anakin to be and i don’t know if i’m good enough to give him that but i have to try. because he needs me.
that, like, exploration of ‘what does this relationship boil down to?’ after all the situational ties are stripped away, all the promises and prophecies and shared histories and goals are gone and instead of in TPM where these two people are bound together by fate, now they are simply bound together by chance and choice and care and love. and how does obi-wan choose to navigate that differently. and how do they both grow and process their own histories. obviously spoiler alert they figure it out and the kid grows up tumultuously happy in the end as a sort of bounty-hunter-rebel type figure and he lives somewhat well on tatooine inciting slave rebellions and getting himself into various troubles and adventures. and he’s never force sensitive and he never joins the official rebellion or learns what happened to old ben who raised him til luke happens to run into him and tell him much later. and there’s no big “wow i’m anakin skywalker! i’m secretly magical and amazing!” moment or anything. he’s just a dude who lives a decent somewhat crazy life out in the sand and fondly recalls the father figure who looked after him when no one else would. the end
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Part — what is this.. four of the ‘tiny in the cold’ story! (wow that’s a lot more than the oneshot I intended it to be; thanks for the support!)
@entomolog-t it’s back!
[Alice’s pov]
My alarm clock buzzes obnoxiously to my left, but for once I’m not annoyed by it. I need to get up; it’s exam day. The exam starts… NOW! “What?! I- Oh my god, I set the alarm for the time I needed to be there! I’m going to be so late!” Dashing through the house, I shove a blueberry muffin into my mouth, throw my coat on, grab my bag, and speed out the door. Jabbing the elevator button every half a second, I practically pounce into the empty space once the doors open. Thank goodness there was no one in here. From the moment I step into the lobby, the rest of the trip is a blur.
My brain only finally starts working about a half-hour into testing. Miraculously, they made an exception and let me in. I’d blamed my lateness on the slick ice lining a few of the roads instead of my own confusion, and the proctor believed me. I mean, technically it is the truth. I was a bit slower coming here because of the ice, though not by much.
Thankfully, this is one of my easier exams. Even with my grogginess, I have extra time to look through — and redo — the parts I’d done in my half-asleep mind. I finish the edits with a mere minute to spare. There are a few quick celebrations between me and a few of my friends who were also taking it, then I head back home. One final down, four more to go.
My schedule from then on would be to rinse and repeat over the next few days — eat a meal, study, eat another meal, study, maybe sleep, then go back for another test. When I go to bed that night, I double check that I changed the alarm to give me some time to actually get up.
That next morning, I have enough time to eat breakfast and glance over my notes before heading back out to yet another exam. It had snowed overnight, and I hurriedly brushed it off the windshield before heading out. I actually made it here a bit early! Maybe I can go see if Terri-
“Wait!” I flinch. Who’s voice is that? “Please! I-” The strange voice stops as abruptly as it started speaking. Immediately, I turn in my seat, scanning the back for any sign of another person in here with me. A tiny-sounding whine directs me to the floor. “What the hell?” There’s.. a small.. thing moving around down there, halfway tucked inside a beanie that I’d lost a while back. “Am.. Am I hallucinating? I can’t!” I yelp suddenly, remembering where I am, “I have exams; I can’t be hallucinating during exams!” The little — very humanlike — thing collapses to the floor. I knew I should’ve gone to bed earlier. This isn’t real, right? That’s a palm-sized person on the floor. I rub a hand tiredly over my face and look again. They’re still there. “Holy shit. You’re.. real.”
Leaning down over the console of the car, I twist myself around so I can see them better. They’re shaking so badly. “Are you alright?” I ask, worry beginning to gnaw at my stomach. “How long have you been in my car? You must be freezing!” Their little head nods very slightly. “Are you another person?” They flinch, and I regret my last question. Of course they’re a person. They just spoke to me. Quietly, their voice rasps out, barely audible. “I’m a person. Please don’t leave me out here again. I- I don’t know if I’ll be able to survive this time.”
My stomach sinks horribly in my chest. How long has he been stuck out here in the cold? He’s so small; he’ll freeze so easily. “O- Of course, yes; I won’t leave you in here to freeze!” I gasp. “Do you mind if I.. umm.. pick you up?” I don’t have time to try to warm him where he is on the floor. I doubt he really needs the extra fright of me trying to handle him, especially because he already seems so desperate, but if I don’t leave soon, I’m going to be late twice in a row. One time I can get away with, but twice and I’ll probably get in trouble, or worse, kicked out.
A tiny head shake — no, he wouldn’t mind it. I let out a relieved breath. I honestly have no idea what I would’ve done if he’d refused. Leave him here? Out of the question. Pick him up anyway? That would be horrible of me. Give him the choice to either come with me or be left here? That just sounds like a threat. Thankfully he’s either willing enough — or desperate enough — to trust me.
Carefully, I reach down for him, sliding my fingers gently beneath him and guiding his tiny body into my hand. He squirms against me as I tighten my grip slightly in order to lift him. My heart skips a beat; his hands grip my finger tightly — shaking and icy cold. Poor thing. I wish I had more time to help you. I lift him upright and slide back into my seat slowly so I don’t jostle him. Hesitantly, he chances a glance up at me. “I’m gonna keep you in my pocket, ok?” I ask, though I know it’s more like telling him what I’ll do with him than actually asking. It hurts my heart in a strange way, recognizing that. “I.. really don’t have time to deal with this right now, but you’ll be plenty warm there. I’m so sorry, but I have to go.” A quick apology will have to suffice until later.
Lowering him into my pocket and dropping him carefully onto the bottom, I reach for the door handle. However, I flinch away from it as a cry tears through the car. “It’s ok; you’re alright! I’m not gonna-” “It’s too hot! I need something colder! Please! It burns!” His cries get louder and more pained. In an instant, I reach in to pull him out and he rushes for my fingers, clinging tightly to them. I freeze, unsure if I should move with him so close. “Th- Thank you,” I hear him gasp. Still, I’m frozen. What do I do if I can’t leave him in there? He’s shaking so awfully against me. His little body is almost drenched in sweat from struggling with the pain for so long. Will he be alright?
“You’re.. you’re ok now? Like that?” I ask worriedly. He nods, face nearly pressed against my palm. “Ok. Try not to yell like that anymore unless it’s an emergency. I don’t need to be kicked out of the testing room and searched. Who knows what the punishment is for sneaking a tiny guy into the room, or what they’ll do with you for that matter.” Now is really not the time to find a tiny person struggling for life, but I’ll do my best to help him. If that means leaving the testing room on account of some fake ‘emergency’ to help him, then so be it. I’d rather keep him alive over anything else.
Once I’m sure he’s comfortable, I step outside. Every single movement I make becomes calculated with him in my pocket. What if I walk too fast and hit him accidentally? What if I sit down and crush him? Did I put lotion on my hands this morning? He’s sitting tucked right against my palm. It would feel so cute if it wasn’t a literal tiny human sitting there. My hands are peeling from the cold; is that the one with the torn skin or is that- No, it’s this one. My worries just start to fade as testing time officially starts and I focus on the questions in front of me instead of the ones in my head.
However, about an hour later, I feel light pressing against my fingers. The tiny person’s hands shove at me until I move away. Confused and worried, I take my hand out of my pocket and inconspicuously glance down. His little face peers up at me and nods slightly, assuring me I’d done nothing wrong. Oh, he’s probably warmed all the way up by now! Returning to my work, I try not to dwell on anything. Still, relief floods my system knowing that I’d saved him from what might’ve been the end of him. He’ll be alright now.
Finishing the exam, I’m one of the first people out the door. Finally, I can talk to my tiny stowaway. Once I’m in the car again, I gently pull him out of my pocket and hold him out in the palm of my hand to get a good look at him. As soon as I unfurl my fingers, he tucks himself into a tight ball — his heavy frightened breaths press against my palm. “Hey, little guy? I’m sorry about basically ignoring you earlier. Finals are this week and I really need them to go well,” I try to explain. “Are you alright? You’re warmer than before; that’s good! I hope my pocket wasn’t too claustrophobic for you.”
In small hesitant movements he gets up from his fetal position and sits on his knees on my palm, staring up at me with wide eyes. It’s strange — his clothes seem to be hand-stitched — his hair mussed and tangled. Bringing him just a little closer, I can count at least two different scars by just glancing over him. How long has he been small for? Did he shrink, or is he just.. something else entirely?
My thoughts are interrupted by his voice. It’s much stronger now, and a lot clearer with him held up closer to my head. There’s still a strange smallness about it that makes goosebumps dash along my arms. “I- I’m ok,” he answers me. I exhale in relief, and become entirely conscious of how the single breath ruffles his hair like a slight breeze. “Thank goodness; I really hoped you weren’t beyond saving. You were super cold when I found you, barely moving. Speaking of which, why were you in my car to begin with? And how in the world did you manage to shrink?” Compared with his few words and tiny voice, I feel almost like I’m speaking over him talking so much, though it doesn’t seem like he has much to say. The guy’s probably stunned enough by the scale of everything.
I watch his brows furrow in deep thought, and for a moment I believe he’ll tell me he didn’t even shrink. Perhaps he was magic. But if he is, wouldn’t he have been able to save himself? “I.. don’t remember. I can’t remember what happened before I shrank, but I’m definitely a human. Just smaller.” Oh. Oh! Oh no, poor thing. He’s probably been stuck so small for so long because he doesn’t even know where he is! No memories, stuck small, freezing weather — no wonder he was desperate for help. And now he’s begging me just to see him as a fellow human.
“Of course you’re still human! Being smaller won’t change that!” I assure him, inadvertently cupping my hand a bit closer around him. “I promise I don’t mean you any harm; I just want to make sure you’re ok. Come on, I’ll take you back to my place — get you something to eat.” I reach to put him away, but pause. “Oh, I’m Alice, by the way. Do you.. remember your name?” He looks frightened for a moment. “I don’t really remember much.” That’s horrifying! Not even your own name? I don’t say that, though. He probably already knows. “I can try to help you remember it, but if you can’t, I guess you can try out a new one for the time being.” He nods, relief settling some of his features. Placing him down in the cupholder beside me, I head for home.
The drive is horribly silent — which I can’t stand. I know my little companion probably needs time to think through some things now that I’ve finally noticed him. Why haven’t I noticed him before? Has he been in my car for a while? Realization dawned on me that he’d really have to be an excellent climber to be able to get in. He’s so small that the space between the edge of the car door and the ground must be over twice his height.
“Soo..” I begin awkwardly, “I do have a question you might know the answer to.” The little guy looks up at me, seemingly startled out of thought. “How did you get in my car?” His face pales, and he looks.. frightened? “I.. I snuck in yesterday morning.” “You climbed up all the way into my car? Why?” He turns guilty away from me, like I caught him in a lie. But why would he lie about how he got in here? “Uhh.. it was cold outside. Your car was warmer.. at the time.” Is he just embarrassed that he got stuck in here? It must’ve been rather freezing when it snowed yesterday. He.. could’ve died in here — alone! I’d have found his body whenever I next went to clean out my car.
“Oh! I locked you in here and then everything froze last night! Poor thing! I’m so sorry! I wouldn’t have left you here like that if I’d known you were in the car!” I feel so awful for believing he was trying to lie. Poor little guy was probably just having a hard time talking about it. The thought of his near-death while I wasn’t even there just occurred to me now, but he’d actually experienced the bitter cold that had likely come close to killing him. Of course he’d be nervous thinking about it.
Trying to change the subject, I begin ranting about finals. It’s the next thing on my mind I can think to talk about. I make it all the way back to my apartment, then turn to my tiny passenger. Flattening out my hand, I leave it gently on the center console right beside the cupholder he’s sitting in. “Here, hop on and I’ll bring you inside,” I tell him, “Would you like something to eat?” He nods, climbing up and sliding slowly and hesitantly into my palm. Even if he’s been tiny for quite a while, getting picked up by someone so much bigger than you must be a crazy terrifying experience. I slip him in my pocket as I step outside. I can’t risk someone seeing him, it just.. feels wrong to flaunt him around in the open for people to ogle at. He probably doesn’t want the attention drawn to himself anyway.
I let him out again when we’re safely behind the closed door of my apartment. Gently, I set him on the counter by taking off my whole jacket and putting it down. He’d been so frightened when I’d plucked him out of my pocket earlier, and I didn’t want to frighten him again. Patiently, I wait for him to come out to the countertop. “What would you like?” I ask kindly. He glances around the room, then points to the pantry. “What do you have in there?” Shrugging, I wander over and peer in. “Well, let’s see.. we have soup crackers, some cheese puffs, popcorn, mac and cheese — but I’d have to cook it first, obviously. “Oh! But I think you’ll like- ” Glancing back at the counter to see if he was interested in any of it, I find that he’s disappeared from view.
“Hey, umm.. little guy? Where’d you go?” I ask, stepping around the counter to the other side. He’s not there, either. I lift up my coat, but he’s still not there. “Where- Where’d you go?! This isn’t funny! You can’t just disappear!” Unless… I gasp and quickly scan the floor. Please don’t tell me he fell off. I- If he fell… “Hey! Please come back! I- I’m not that scary, am I? Why’d you leave? I don’t-” I don’t understand; there’s not a trace of him on the floor or the counter. “Come back! Whatever it is you’re frightened of, I’ll change it! Please don’t run off and get hurt somewhere! If you want to take care of yourself, that’s fine! Just.. please let me know so I don’t think something happened to you!”
Hours tick by as I scour the floor and countertops, searching for my little missing guest. All the while I call out various comforting things, trying to convince him to at the very least let me know that he’s alive. Still nothing. I can’t find him, and something tells me he doesn’t want to be found. By 4:00 in the morning, there’s still no answer, and I go to bed without one. I try to go to sleep, but all I can do is lay down and stare at the ceiling trying to listen for the sounds of something small moving around. Only at about 6:00 in the morning do I finally fall asleep for a good two hours before my alarm startles me awake. At least I don’t have an exam today. I just have to study.
I trudge down the hall to the kitchen and freeze. He could still be on the floor somewhere. Continuing my trek with much more caution than before, I make a bowl of cereal and sit down numbly. I stare out at nothing in particular; thoughts jumble in my head. My lack of sleep and my severe rise in anxiety combined to cause an awful feeling in my head. My stomach also started to feel the effects, and I left the kitchen only a few spoonfuls of food fuller than I had when I walked in.
Studying didn’t help my mood much, but every time I took a break from it, my mind would wander back to the tiny person potentially wandering around my home, too scared to ask for help when he likely needed it. Lunchtime came and went — I wasn’t hungry. I tried studying again by watching a few videos my professor posted. Those didn’t seem to make sense to me, and my anxiousness morphed into an ugly frustrated anger. “No! What? How?! I used the same formula and everything! What the heck?!” Crumpling my paper in a messy ball, I can already feel an angry scream building in my throat.
As quickly as my anger emerges, however; it fizzes out. My scream comes out as a sob and I fall against my desk. Nothing had gone right for me. Finals week is the absolute worst week for my luck to run out. “I’m gonna fail,” I whisper, “I can’t do this. Why is everything going so wrong? I just wanted to help him; why’d he run away? I feel sick. What if he’s hurt somewhere and can’t call for help? What if he’s too scared to call for help?” Tears fall down my face and sobs wrench out of my throat in gasps. My empty stomach roils painfully as I cry.
“Alice! It’s ok, I-” At the sound of a voice too small to have come from any normal person, I whirl around in my seat, furiously rubbing my eyes so I could see through my tears. I can’t find him on the floor, just like the night before, but I know I heard the tiny person I’d rescued. “Hello?” I call into the seemingly empty room. A voice responds. “It’s.. It’s ok. It’s me, the ‘little guy’.” I gasp a relieved breath, then stand, peering around the room for where he might be. His voice is so small I can’t tell where it’s coming from. “You’re… alright?” There’s a long silence, then: “Yeah.”
“Oh thank god!” I breathe fully for what feels like the first time in days. “You made me so worried for you! Are you hungry still? I- I know you haven’t eaten in a while since you.. ran off when I tried to get something for you.” I myself felt like I was starving. I could only imagine what he might be feeling. I’m kept waiting for a long time — so long that I’m afraid he’ll leave if I don’t say something. Steadying my voice with another deep breath, I offer an apology. “Look, I’m sorry I scared you off… I don’t know what happened, but I’m willing to work with you to try and get your memories and your old life back. I can’t imagine how terrifying it is to suddenly be so small, not even knowing how you got that way-” “Stop.”
I do, though I’m scared of how hollow his voice sounds. “That’s.. a lie. I remember everything just fine.” Has he given up on finding a way back to normal? Does he remember something awful that he hasn’t told me? No wonder it felt like he was lying to me. “So.. you just didn’t want to tell me how you shrank?” I ask, a bit confused. “No.. Alice, I- I never shrank. I’ve always been this way.” My mind goes blank for a moment. “Y- Wh- H-” I stutter, only half-words forming on my tongue. “I’m not human, Alice.”
He’s… He’s what? Slowly, I approach the bookshelf in front of me — where I can hear his voice now that he’s spoken enough for me to locate it. Kneeling on the floor, I gently bend down to peer beneath it. I’d already checked all the shelves to no avail. There’s a small crack in the baseboard of the wall behind the shelf. “Is that why you left?” I ask softly, “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.” His voice becomes a bit harsher. “You promised the tiny human me that you wouldn’t hurt me,” he corrects. I blink confusedly, slowly connecting the dots. “You thought I would go back on my word if I knew you were lying to me? Or you just.. thought that I wouldn’t care because you’re not human?”
But that’s awful! Does he really think I would do that? My distracted gaze flits back to the crack in the wall. He’s there — standing in a position like he’s ready to flee at any sign of aggression, but he’s there. “I promised you that I wouldn’t hurt you. You. No matter who or what you were.” His expression shifts guiltily, and he glances away from me. “I’m a bit upset you wanted to lie to me about… everything. But I can’t be mad at you for being scared of me. I won’t ask you to talk to me anymore if you don’t want to, but just know, I’m glad you’re alright.”
A small smile edges along his face as he turns back to me. Carefully, the little.. person steps out of his hiding place. “You- You really mean that?” He asks, “You don’t care that I’m not one of you?” I exhale a tiny laugh and shake my head. “Of course not, don’t be silly! You’re safe here, I promise. I understand if you want to go home, though. You probably have others of your kind to get back to, and I’ve accidentally trapped you in my house.” His steps falter and guilt briefly dashes across his face again. “Well, about that… I kind of.. live here.”
Do I know anything about you? As he relayed what really happened, it turns out I really don’t. The only thing I do know about him that’s correct is the fact that he can fit in the palm of my hand, and of course the fact that he’d been freezing to death when I found him. Beyond that, it’s like a whole new world just opened up to me. I guess that makes sense, though. He is an entirely different species, which is insane to think about. I always thought we’d find human-intelligent beings on another planet before we ever found it here again.
“I actually did remember my name,” the little being — he told me he’s a borrower — confesses after talking to me about his life beneath my floors. “It’s just.. not really a human-sounding one, so I couldn’t exactly give you it. My name’s Fennel, but I mostly just go by Fen.” “Fen?” I ask. Well, it certainly isn’t a human-sounding name. I offer Fen a bright smile. “Nice to finally really meet you! How long have you been living here.. with me?” His eyes trail off in thought, “I moved in after you were already here, but you were still unpacking things, so I don’t think it was very far off from when you moved in, too.” So we’ve been living here together the whole time?!
“Where were you living before?” Fen shrugs, “Eh, another apartment in this building. The new people were too loud, so I moved out.” Wow, I wish I could’ve done that in my last apartment. I had to wait for the lease to expire. “I wish I could just pack up and slip into a new home whenever I have problems with the neighbors,” I tell him, mind already wandering to what I would do at his size, with his freedom.
“It’s harder than it seems,” Fen sighs, “I have to rebuild a livable space for myself every time.” Oh, right. Maybe I wouldn’t want to be a borrower after all. I sit back upright and my back cracks loudly as I do. “Hey, if you don’t mind, can you maybe come out from beneath there?” I ask, “It hurts my back to try to bend all the way to the floor to look at you.”
He’s hesitant, but Fen slowly makes his way over to the edge of the bookshelf. When he finally steps out from beneath it, I gently lay my hand in front of him palm-up, like I had in the car when I took him inside. “Can I hold you? Please?” This feels like a dream. Did I even find you, or did I fall asleep trying to study? To my relief, he gives me a slight nod. I watch in awe as he climbs up onto my palm — hands and feet no bigger than a fingernail. With Fen safely in my palm, I slowly and carefully lift him up to my face to ensure I’m really awake.
Concern crunches my eyebrows together. He has an empty fearful look, staring blankly through me with tensed muscles. “Fen?” His hands dart to his head, ducking beneath them for a tiny bit of safety. “Are you ok?” I ask softly, “You look sick. If this makes you uncomfortable, I can put you back down. You didn’t have to get on.” I can hear him breathing hard, but he stammers: “I- I’m alright.” Shaking my head, I cup my other hand around him gently. “You aren’t, though. You’re shaking.” With all the caution l can muster, I lower the pad of my finger against his chest. Just as I thought, his breaths rise and fall heavily against my finger — even his heartbeat thunders rapidly against it. He’s so.. delicate. Sitting in my hand like that, I just can’t describe the feeling in any way besides tiny and fragile and alive.
My eyes water in a sudden rush of relief, and I gently bring him to my chest, hugging his tiny form the best I can without crushing him. I finally feel relieved for the first time that week. “It’s alright now,” I exhale. Holding him there, I can feel his breathing slow and he relaxes in my light grip. Guiding him out in front of me again, I watch him curl up sleepily in my palm. His back presses softly into my cupped fingers as he blearily looks up at me. Awww, why does he have to look so cute like that? I’m sure he’s exhausted.
Glancing around the room, I notice that one of the smaller blankets on my bed had fallen to the floor. I scoop it up and place Fen down on my desk. He stumbles off, and I have to quickly grab him and lower him down before he falls face-first on the wooden surface. I bundle up the blanket so it’s reminiscent of a little mattress and pillow, then place it in the corner of my desk. Fen sleepily trudges over and slides into it. Checking to make sure he wouldn’t fall over the edge of my desk by blocking off the side with a book, I settle down and begin re-working the math problem that had gotten me so worked up earlier.
Just as I finish it, Fen rolls over in his makeshift bed and mumbles something quietly. Get some sleep little guy; goodness knows you need it. I need it too, but more than that, I need to eat. After checking the problem against the key — I’d solved it correctly that time — I snuck off to the kitchen to make myself a quick meal before returning to my work. With Fen sleeping on my desk, I had to plug in my headphones to listen to the videos, but that didn’t bother me much. I had to stop yelling so much to avoid waking him, but I needed to calm myself down anyway. It wasn’t long after finishing the worksheet that I fell asleep right there against my desk, with my tiny roommate sleeping soundly beside me.
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September August July June
Note: these are not in any order!
The night before Halloween by @ladytessa74
M | 21k
This is the cutest thing ever!! And also spooky. TK & Carlos and their five-year-old Elijah celebrate Halloween, go to a pumpkin patch and receive some unwanted visitors. Tessa’s TK & Carlos are as syrupy sweet as ever, but add on the cuteness of Elijah, aka Koala Bear, and I’m 🫠
Suddenly, in the Silence by @carlos-in-glasses
E | 10k
Another banger from Cig. TK & Carlos ride out a storm at Andrea’s house and are visited by a specter (maybe?). This is a beautiful look at faith and spirituality, and how people cope with the question of what happens after when you lose someone. Things I love: TK knowing nothing about cars but making them go vroom, Andrea and Tía Lucy with their seances, Carlos being a grumpy kitten, TK sashaying around in his fancy silk pajamas, the family dynamics of Andrea, TK & Carlos. They’re just so comfortable with each other in this fic, it feels so natural.
Road Rash by vaguenotion
T | 12k
Wow!!! The tension in this one. TK and Judd take a trip to visit Judd’s dad and encounter some nefarious characters on the way home. The Judd & TK brotherly dynamic is top notch here. The action, the pacing, the twists! All done so well. Cliche as it sounds, I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.
The Shadow by @itsrandomnobody7
T | 4.5k
Tarlos as pirates! I loved this concept! A very sweet story with one of my favorite visuals: Judd and Nancy fighting back to back.
Even if the World Ends Tomorrow by @bonheur-cafe
T | 12k
In this post-apocalyptic story TK & Carlos remember to celebrate their anniversary when the bluebonnets bloom 🥹 Carlos is injured and TNT has to treat him with limited resources. Lots of beautiful imagery here and sweet Tarlos moments.
come what may, I'll still stay by @strandnreyes
E | 26k
This is a very interesting and probably realistic look at what Carlos would be like if he did become a detective. He is so like Owen, and I love the way that aspect of his personality is explored here. Lots of juicy Tarlos tension. The story gives TK a lot of room to really feel his feelings in a way that feels true to character.
The Knave of Hearts . . . brought back the tarts by @liminalmemories21
E | 60k
Another incredible installment of the beloved art heist series! I highly recommend reading the first two before this one. The first two stories were so much about Carlos coming to terms with his past and learning to trust TK. This part TK has to grapple with insecurities stemming from his own history. And there’s another really fun heist!! Also spotting the Easter eggs and twists on canon is a lot of fun too.
Made it Easier Somehow by @paperstorm
T | 1.6k
Soft little moment of Carlos coming home after a late shift to find his husband asleep on the couch, having tried and failed to wait up for him. TK through Carlos’s eyes is always very sweet, but especially when Carlos is reflecting on what their relationship means to him.
RWRB
Where There Are Octobers by @iboatedhere
E | 51k
I was delighted to see Rae doing her daily October prompt fills again this year, even if it’s not for my favorite boys this time. Every day is a different little adventure, from doctors to strangers in the park to assassins on the run. The characterization and the dialogue is so, so spot on in every universe.
As always, this is not in any way a comprehensive list of all the good stuff that came out in October. This is the stuff that I was able to read and vibed with. This is a way for me to hype the stories that got me excited this month, and I encourage everybody to be intentional in reblogging fics and screaming about the stuff you’re reading and enjoying all month long. Let’s work to build this fandom into a more inclusive and encouraging place to create! Also, caveat that the Gabriel grief stuff is tough for me, so I’ve been avoiding and/or very slowly making my way through those ones
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ROYAL ASSASSIN ABRIDGED: PART TWO
My friend Razz wants to understand my shitposting about Robin Hobb’s Farseer Trilogy, but they don’t want to actually have to read the books, so I’m summarizing it for them (and you)!
(Check out all the other entries in the Farseer Trilogy Abridged series at the masterpost. Also if you think I’m funny you can send me a ko-fi from there.)
EDIT: added some strikethroughs where they were supposed to go and put something funny where I had just left the reminder to write something funny.
Last Time on Dragon Book Z (rip Toriyama sensei), Fitz finally made it home from the mountains. He’d seen via Skill-o-Vision that Molly had been viked by Vikings, and he was desperate to see if she’d flagged herself ‘safe’ from Being Raided on Facebook…
The next day, Fitz is minding his own business being told by Cook Sara that he looks like shit when he spontaneously decides to climb sixty four flights of stairs. Considering that his tiny teenaged body is still 89% poison by volume and he just got home from the worst road trip of his life (so far!), by the time he gets to the top he's facedown on the floor, pushing himself along by his toes.
“Hello, Lil Accident,” Verity says, putting down his binoculars. “Wow, you look like shit.”
“So I’ve been told,” Fitz mumbles to the floor. ”You look a lot less skeletal than when I last saw you.“
”Thanks! I had sex.“
Fitz tries to get up and fails. ”I didn't even know you'd be up here.”
“Aha, but you see, I Skilled you here, and you didn't even know it. In fact I've been balls-deep in your brain for a week with you none the wiser, because this is a thing I can do with the Skill.“
Fitz spits out a mouthful of dust. ”Wow, when do I get to learn that kind of thing?“
”Never,“ Verity smiles, turning back to the window. ”Come look at my ships.“
Dragging himself up to the windowsill, Fitz peeks out. “Neat! We'll be able to defend ourselves against the Vikings with these for sure!“
”Yes,” Verity growls. “And I can't wait to continue the cycle of violence by going all the way to the Viking home planet and viking them back!“
Somewhere downstairs, the Fool rubs his temples, sighing loudly.
”Anyway, now that I've forced you to climb all the way up here, let's go back down so I can get something to eat.” Verity picks Fitz up by the scruff of his neck. “I want to hear all about your little trip to the Big Onion.“
They head down to Verity's man cave, and after watching 'ASSASSIN'S APPRENTICE ENDING EXPLAINED— WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO AUGUST,' Verity reads the comments, most of which point out that Regal should have totally died in a fire for plotting to kill his own brother and murdering a bunch of the wedding party.
Fitz looks at the hay bale in the corner, where the Fool is updating his Linkedin. ”Listen, I have a way bigger part in this book than the last one,“ the Fool says without looking up. ”I'm not gonna have time to re-explain who everybody is to you whenever you want. I've got a big death scene coming up.“
”You're going to die?!“ Fitz cries.
”Someone is,“ the Fool murmurs.
”You're probably wondering why I haven't punished Regal for any of the stuff he did last book,“ Verity says, steepling his fingers. ”And the truth is, I'm not going to, because he'll just throw a temper tantrum about it and I don't want to deal with that.“
”What if he tries to kill one of us again?“
”Pff, don't worry about it, Lil Accident.“ Verity waves him off. ”You can take tomorrow off to go look for your dead girlfriend.“
Fitz stands up. ”Thanks Prince Verity, I'm gonna go have a seizure before bed.“
But as soon as he steps out of the room, Lacey jumpscares him and drags him off to go see Lady Patience, who is laying in a pile of her current hyperfixations. ”You missed the wedding,” she says accusingly.
”Sorry, Mrs. My Dead Dad's Wife,“ Fitz sighs. ”Regal tried to, uh, do whatever the opposite of poisoning me and trying to drown me is, and now whenever I get excited I fall over.“ He accepts a glass of wine from Lacey, then dumps it over his head. “I've gotta move on to the next plot point now.”
Fitz is staggering up the stairs, leaving a wet smear of Rosé after him, when a Servant Girl comes to take his arm. “Here, sir,” she says sweetly. “Let me help you weave drunkenly back to your chambers. Wouldn't want you falling down the stairs and breaking your stupid lying neck.”
“Thanks, mysterious servant girl. You can drop me off at the corner, I’ll walk from here.”
But instead of letting him have a seizure in peace, the Servant Girl punches him in the gut and kicks him in the nads, because she's Molly!
“Holy shit, you're alive!” Fitz sobs. “Oh man, I had a vision that you got viked, it was awful—”
Molly kicks him in the nads again. “I did get viked, and afterwards I came here looking for you to ask you to loan me some cash, or get married to me. My dumb ass went around to all the servants going 'hey, have you seen the scribe's apprentice, he looks just like FitzChivalry Farseer,' and someone filmed me and made a TikTok titled 'tfw you find out your boyfriend is really The Bastard.'”
“Oh,” Fitz cringes.
“Yeah 'oh,'” Molly says. “It has sixteen million views and hashtag Cat-Fitzed is trending on Twitter.”
“It's called X now,” Fitz squeaks.
“What about the older, hotter guy I saw you walking off with?“
”That was my cousin,“ Molly snarls. ”Do you think I'd date someone with an earring?“
“Gosh, it's a good thing I don't wear one of those,” Fitz says, polishing his collar.
”Anyway, you're gross and I hate you,“ Molly declares. ”Do not, under any circumstances, continue to attempt to woo me. Goodbye.”
Despite Fitz's best efforts, he continues to have a seizure any time he tries to do anything except have a seizure. Even into the next day, he's still ragdolling like a character in a seventy dollar video game on release day. The Fool appears briefly to catch a glimpse of Fitz in his underwear, but before they can do any real flirting, Lacey and Patience show up again.
“Listen, Prince Dumbass,” Patience says, “you fucked up bigtime letting Molly think she was in your league. She came here thinking you'd grown up in a double-wide same as her, drinking off-brand kool aid and saving butter containers to use as tupperware. When people found out you lied to her, they started calling her a hump-and-dump.”
“But we never even humped,” Fitz objects.
“And it's a good thing, too, because as royalty you're only allowed to hump at the King's pleasure. Princes are not allowed to run around sticking their dick in whoever they want, that's how we ended up with you. You'd just make a bunch more Fitzes, and we don't have enough paid extras anymore to traumatize *all* of those kids.”
“We could drown them,” Lacey suggests, working on a cross-stitch that says 'GALS BEING PALS.'
”They wouldn't be Fitzes if me and miss Molly got married,“ Fitz says. ”I'll just go and do that real quick.“
Patience whacks him in the head with a rolled up newspaper. ”No! You're going to marry whoever the King tells you to marry, and no one else. We learned our lesson with Chivalry: we can never, ever allow you to have any control over your life whatsoever, and that includes caring about anyone other than whoever is wearing a crown that day. Besides, didn't you already sign a contract to do whatever King Shrewd told you to do without question forever?”
“I was nine, I don't really feel like that was binding—”
Patience grabs Fitz by the front of his shirt and jerks him forward. “Do not,” she says, “have sex with Molly. Do NOT have sex with Molly. DO NOT HAVE SEX WITH MOLLY.”
“No promises,” Fitz shrugs. “Hey, do you have a backstory other than being the ADHD widow of my deadbeat dad?”
Patience runs away crying. As soon as she's gone, Chade shows up. “Hey,” he says gently. “Don't cry. Kettricken's dad roped her into a political marriage and now she's miserable and lonely. That can happen for you, too.”
“This sucks,” Fitz moans.
“Remember not to have sex with Molly,“ Chade says as he crawls back into his wall-hole.
”Whatever. I'm going down into town to find my soulmate.”
Fitz, wearing his slouchiest beanie, his blackest hoodie, and his unhappiest expression of teenaged angst, stomps down the road into Buckkeep town, hands shoved in his pockets. “Stupid Farseers,” he mutters. ”Always hasslin' me and tellin' me what to do. What do they know? Man, nobody understands what it's like to be me.“
*Oh, you you think you got it bad, little bitch boy?*
The entire fandom erupts into cheers and applause as the character in possession of the single teaspoon of sense in the entire series arrives.
Fitz looks up, snarling, and locks eyes with a wolf trapped in a cage labeled 'ESSENTIAL NPC'. The angry little ball of fluff is just one of many wares sold by a dude in a full body fursuit. “Good morrow, emo child,” Fursuit says, oozing greasily forward. “I see you eyeballing that young cub. You know, an animal like that could really be useful if, say, you were a royal Bastard with Doctor Doolittle magic who was sent out to fight zombies a lot.“
”I'll trade you a pack of gum for him,“ Fitz offers.
”He's worth way more than that,“ Fursuit says. ”I went through all the trouble of building a rocketship for his wolf-mother and wolf-siblings so they could return to their home planet.“
*I'll kick your ass! I'll kick everyone's ass! I'll kick my own ass!!*
*'Shut up, I'm negotiating!'*
”A pack of gum AND this cool rock I found,“ Fitz bargains expertly, then kicks Fursuit in the shin, grabs the wolf, and runs off.
Fitz carries Wolfcub back up to Buckkeep, looking forward to the 'wrestling with a wild animal to show dominance' scene, but then realizes that the cub is too weak and tiny to put up a good fight. What was even the point of having a pet wolf if he couldn't have a badass fight with it and then stand shirtless against the sunrise? Also, Fitz has already had two canines in his life bond to him and then have to return to their home planets, and he's kind of tired of that happening.
*'My apartment has a no pets policy, so you're gonna have to stay in the tool shed,'* he tells Wolfcub. *'Don't wit-bond to me.'*
Then, with nothing better to do, he leaves to go do the thing Patience and Chade explicitly told him not to: Have Sex With Molly.
”The fuck is wrong with you lately?“ Burrich asks, some days later while he and Fitz are hanging out at the bar.
Fitz sighs. ”I keep trying to have sex with Molly, but things are always getting in the way of my dick," he says mournfully.
”Mm. Been there,“ Burrich mutters, pulling down his sleeve to cover up his 'PATIENCE CHIVALRY BITTERNESS AND BURRICH 4 EVER' tattoo. ”Which one is Molly?“
”The hot one that kicks people in the nuts.“
”Oh, yeah. Half my age. I like that in a girl,“ Burrich says, and everybody decides to just go with it. ”Here's my advice to you: give up and move on. Get your post-rejection glow up, and your girl will go off to marry someone else.“
”That sounds like it sucks,“ Fitz says doubtfully. “When do I finally get to have sex with her?”
Burrich grins. “That's the neat thing! You don't.”
The next morning, Fitz gets out of bed, takes a big, cleansing breath, then puts his earbuds in and turns on his Montage Song.
“Time for that glow up,” he says really loudly because he can't hear himself over the music.
'Cause baby you're a firework
Fitz wrapping measuring tape around his bicep and frowning;
come on and show 'em what you're worth
running laps around the castle with Wolfcub chasing after him;
make 'em go oh! oh! Oh!
standing on one foot like in Karate Kid while Pat Morita decomposes nearby;
as you you shoot across the sky-ay-ay
Burrich taking away his AXE body spray and shoving him into the shower;
baby you're a firework!
carb-loading at the local Fantasy Pizzeria;
come on and let your colors burst
lifting weights while Wolfcub tries to bite him;
make 'em go oh! oh! Oh!
measuring his bicep again, and nodding in satisfaction.
you're gonna leave 'em all in awe, awe, awe
“I'm bored,” Kettricken sighs as she and Fitz hang out with Kettricken's entourage. “I wish Verity would get me pregnant.“
”How can you be bored with fifty people constantly offering to play with you?“ Fitz says. ”Also, ew.“
”I could be back home fighting bears and lifting sacks over my head,” Kettricken whines, “but I'm stuck here in Lamesville with these boring losers and my husband is constantly off doing Skill stuff instead of having sex with me. Lady Modesty is constantly suggesting we watch the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice,” she adds, disgusted.
Fitz slaps her. “Your job here isn't to be butch! This castle has been a fucking sausage party for years, and the best person to Girlboss it up is you. That means making moodboards, drinking iced coffees, doing each other's nails and YES, watching the objectively worse version of Pride and Prejudice! Look at Lady Hopeful, she's unironically singing along to 'I Knew You Were Trouble'! Now suck it up, buttercup, and go watch the part where Mr. Darcy confesses his love to Elizabeth!”
“Yes sir,” Kettricken mumbles.
“Bastard, first name The?“ a messenger says as he clips through the wall. ”King Shrewd finally wants to see you.“
Fitz stands up, brushes himself off, and heads up to Grandpa's house...
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