#i am. so happy to have him back. and also he's right.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: the human custom of sharing clothes had been an unfamiliar one for jade, but he has always been a quick study

pairing: jade leech x gn! reader (both have graduated nrc, but a lot of this is reliving school memories)

warnings: fluff, implied smaller reader; i think it made more sense in my head but have it anyway bc i never wanna shut up about him, please applaud my restraint to not name this ‘boyfriend material’

twisted wonderland masterlist

It was true that wearing clothes was a foreign feeling when Jade first came to the shore all those years ago. But he had come to like the human custom, no matter how tedious it might seem at times. Not only did he realise the way one dressed held a lot of power in the way one was perceived by others, it had also served him in making some fond memories.

The ones he remembered most vividly, however, were those which featured you at the centre of them. Through various means, like the course they had attended or familiarising himself with different types of media above sea level, Jade had learnt that sharing clothes was a thing done between close friends or romantic partners, often being hailed as a sweet gesture and being positively received by characters and audiences alike. So when you had caught the eel’s interest, he had decided to see what the fuss was all about.

Despite his tendency to curate situations which would bring about whatever outcome he desired, the first time the opportunity arose had been a happy coincidence. That day, it had started raining cats and dogs right as the bell signalling lunch break rang. Luckily, Jade’s last class of the morning had been in the building the cafeteria was in, so he could watch in amusement as students swarmed towards the building with various forms of rain repellent keeping them dry- or not.

You had been one of the poor, unfortunate souls who had left their umbrella at the dorm that day, a point made abundantly clear by the way you had sprinted with your PE uniform jacket held over your head in a feeble attempt of shielding yourself. By the time you had made it into the dry hallway, your jacket had been absolutely drenched, the rest of your clothes not faring much better. Witnessing your predicament and seeing a chance to put his theory to the test, Jade had slinked over to your side.

“Oya, if I had known you were this fond of water, I would have invited you to the Coral Sea before,” the eel had said, startling you with his sudden appearance. Your reaction had only served for the polite smile on his lips to grow a tad bit wider. “Yet, here I was under the impression humans don’t like getting their clothes wet. Perhaps I have been wrong?”

“You know well enough this wasn’t intentional, so drop the oblivious act, Jade,” you had sighed, rustling through your backpack for something and subsequently taking your eyes off him. “So what do you want? If you’re trying to rope me into a deal over a little bit of rain, I’ll have to disappoint–”

Something warm and dry had landed on your shoulders then, your gaze landing on the black fabric draped over your form first and wandering back to the tall student afterwards. With your mouth parted, opening and closing in the search of something to say, you had borne a strong resemblance to a fish out of water.  

“I heard humans get sick easily after walking in the rain,” Jade had mused, tugging at his vest and shirt to make sure they sat correctly without his blazer, “and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“What are you–” You had shaken your head, overcoming your initial confusion as you began shrugging the jacket back off your shoulders. At that point you had been sure he had some ulterior motive and you hadn’t felt like picking up any shifts at Mostro Lounge that week. “I can’t take this from you.”

“Oh, but you can,” he had insisted with a smile, a gloved hand landing on your shoulder to keep the clothing in place. “If you are worried about my health, I am most touched. However, us mers are used to the cold and therefore aren’t as prone to catching one.”

“That wasn’t really what I was concerned about,” you had mumbled, crossing your arms. “I’m more worried about whatever strings come attached with this thing.”

“You wound me. Do you really think I would abuse my fellow student’s misery for personal gain?” Despite his words, he had chuckled at your resolute ‘yes, you would’. The hand on your shoulder had pressed into your upper back then to bring you in closer in order to throw you off with the newfound proximity, disguised as shielding you from the throng of people heading to lunch. “If this is what stands in between you and caring for your health, how about this: In return for accepting my blazer, you accompany me to lunch? I’ll consider us even then, I promise.”

You had studied the vice housewarden more closely, yet, as usual, his expression did not give anything away. Just then a chilly breeze had blown through the corridor, making you tremble as you instinctively pulled the blazer tighter around your body. 

“Fine, I’ll accept,” you had relented through chattering teeth.

“Wonderful,” the eel had beamed down at you before guiding you forward, still with his fingers splayed over your upper spine. Students had parted like the sea when they had seen the second year approaching and it was a welcome change of pace from having to fight your way into a spot in the queue.

By the time you had found a table, you had slipped your arms through the sleeves of Jade’s jacket to better hold your tray. And when you rolled up the excess fabric to properly use your cutlery, Jade finally realised why lending someone your clothes was a popular trope in various media. 

To say the piece was ill-fitting was an obvious remark, with Jade easily being one of the tallest students around, you were practically drowning in his jacket. It had been eye-openingly endearing for him to say the least. And that was even without factoring in the expression on people’s faces when they realised whose clothes you had been wearing, the Octavinelle band around your left arm added to the context of the scene being a dead giveaway. Yes, as a born predator of the sea, a possessive side of him had revelled in the feeling of staking his claim over you in this way.

But he had shoved the notion down as you had asked him if he liked the food that day and how his morning had been. While he had been able to tell you were still a little wary, cautiously phrasing your responses at first, falling into a casual conversation with you was easy enough. When the anecdote of his brother doing something reckless again made you snort before laughing, he had filed it away as something he wanted to see and hear more of, especially when he was the cause for it.

Lunch had passed a little too fast for the moray’s liking but with one glance at his watch and then one at the still pouring rain, he had quickly devised a plan to monopolise your time to the fullest before returning to your classes.

“Allow me to walk you back to your dorm, so you can change before your next lesson,” Jade had smiled as he pulled out his umbrella, his arm hovering around your back as you had exited the cafeteria. “I assure you, this favour comes with no strings attached.”

Looking back at it years later, perhaps that last part had been a lie, though he was sure neither of you minded. Because after that rainy day, you had interacted more frequently with pleasantly changed feelings. 

On Jade’s side of things, he had been more fascinated with you and your reactions than ever and the image of you swaddled in his clothes had managed to stir these newfound emotions in him. You, on the other side, had started considering him as more than a devious loan eel and allowed the normally tightly locked thoughts and feelings for him to come out of their confinement little by little.

After playing cat and mouse for a while, you had taken all your courage, grabbed Jade by the collar and confessed, not able to withstand the tension and anticipation any longer.  Of course, he had reciprocated your feelings in teasing delight, which, as your relationship had become public, had easily catapulted you up the list of the school’s lunatics in the eyes of many. But you couldn’t have been happier and, the initial complexities of navigating a new relationship aside, Jade was a dream of a boyfriend if he wasn’t hellbent on prodding and poking you for his own amusement.

So it came as no surprise that, during your school years, you had spent a lot of time at each other’s dorms when Jade wasn’t dragging you up some mountain with him. At that point, you’d felt as comfortable in his room as in yours, even if half of it was shared with the sentient tornado that was Floyd, leaving one half to be pristine and the other opposingly messy. 

Jade fondly remembered the day you had come over to study for your upcoming potionology exam, your own dorm room too loud to concentrate and hoping to rope the merman into helping you with your prep questions, especially as his brother had been absent from their room that evening. While many regarded him as the sly and conniving one in the relationship, Jade had to admit you were very good at playing your cards right to where he found it increasingly hard to deny you. Perhaps this cheekiness was one of the things that drew him to you.

Considering you had given up on studying in your room pretty much immediately and had only grabbed your books before marching over to Octavinelle, you had still been in uniform when you joined him at his desk. Ever observant, Jade had quickly noticed the way you subconsciously pulled at the clothes or squirmed in your seat trying to get comfortable. 

So being the amazing and reliable boyfriend that he was, he had fished some comfortable loungewear out of his closet; he had initially bought it to round out his collection of essential clothing items, though frankly, he didn’t wear it much himself. With no plans to work at the Lounge that night, he had thought that it might be a good chance to give the comfy clothes another shot.

In retrospect, maybe he should thank your uncomfortable uniform. 

When you had both changed into the loungewear, he had not only been amused by the way the shirt, which was a regular fit for him, engulfed your upper body or how you had rolled up the ends of his sweatpants. With some playful huffs at his teasing, you had gone back to work until you had finished writing your study notes, at which point you had relocated to his bed, Jade joining you soon after.

Sitting side by side, your boyfriend had taken to quizzing you to see how much you had retained until he had felt your head drop against his shoulder, which was the first time he had taken note of how late it had gotten. For a few moments he had done nothing but study the way your chest rose and fell with deep breaths, your slightly parted lips inviting him to trace his thumb over the curve of them in featherlight reverence. To think that he of all morays would ever be treated to such a peaceful fragment of mundanity, it had made a warmth tug at his heart the same way the waves rolled over the shore in a calming rhythm, which persisted to this day.

It had pained him to wake you again, so could get ready for bed, persuading you sweetly into staying the night. Though he regretted neither getting to see your half asleep face while you had brushed your teeth, nor how he had been able to pull you close to him under the covers, curling his arms around you as his fingers had wandered over the warmth of your skin under his clothes. 

In the comfortable darkness of his room, you had exchanged hushed whispers and murmured confessions as you had settled in his embrace, lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart and the lips that  had spelled promises of safety and adoration against your skin. And for Jade, tugged deep into the crevice of his heart, there had formed the image of a future where this domesticity was normality. 

Years later, after graduation, Jade could proudly claim that this fantasy now lived at the forefront of his heart, that he could fall asleep and wake up to your body next to his, cradled by the allure of forever. After all, for no one but those closest to him would he be up with the rising sun to prepare breakfast, humming under his breath as he relived those memories. Though he considered all his efforts paid off when he heard you shuffle into the kitchen before two arms wrapped around his middle and your head leaned against his spine. 

“Good morning to you too, pearl,” Jade chuckled as finished plating the eggs on two plates, then knowingly slid a fresh cup of coffee within your reach. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, until someone decided to just leave me all by my lonesome,” you grumbled, detaching yourself from him so you could lean against the counter and take a sip of coffee, prepared perfectly to your liking. “I like seeing my beautiful husband’s face first thing in the morning but alas…”

As you stepped into his field of vision, Jade noticed you had chosen not to wear a piece of clothing of yours, but had instead plucked his black dress shirt from the chair he had draped it over the day prior. His dress shirt and nothing else. While it was long enough on you to hide what was for his eyes only, it still showed off the beautiful curve of your legs, ending tantalisingly around your thighs. The few buttons you had closed still displayed the sharp contrast between your collarbones and the softness of the skin peeking through below. It would be all too easy to slip the garment from your shoulder…

“That does seem rather unfair,” Jade agreed as he stepped in front of you, hands ghosting along the expanse of your thighs to rest at your waist, the look in his eyes reminding you of his origins and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. “If you allow me, I have a few ideas in mind on how to make it up to you.”

Within the blink of an eye, his hands had steeled their grip around your waist and lifted you to sit on the counter as he took the opportunity to stand between your legs. Then, with a gentleness which did not match the show of strength, he carefully cupped the back of your head in his palm and connected your lips in a kiss as light and soft as the golden rays bathing your kitchen in light. Your own hands busied themselves with tousling his bed head once again, slowly sliding his black lock behind his left ear as you parted from one another, like a painter putting the finishing strokes on their magnum opus.

“Hm, I might be able to be convinced about forgiving you,” you teased, the lovestruck look in your eyes mirroring his as you slung your arms over his shoulders and crossed them behind his neck in an effort to be even closer to him. 

“I must be the luckiest man alive,” he mused, meaning every word of his playful response.

Yes, after living on land for so long, Jade had truly taken a liking to the human custom of wearing clothes and all the different possibilities it held. Then again, the fondness those memories held probably had nothing to do with the clothes at all.

© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

twisted wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄ #twisted wonderland #x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst fluff #twst jade #jade leech x reader #jade leech fluff #jade leech #disney twst #twst

[imastrangeone98]

Now that we know firefly is SAM, I just can't help but think of funny scenarios with Enough y/n, given that you're the favorite member of the hunters XD and also I didn't put SAM in the first one so....

I imagine her to be the youngest member, and given your motherly vibe... she just has a tendency to stay with you, even when she's in the armor. And depending on the position, that can lead to some "issues" with a jealous blade XD

"Welcome back, Sparky," you call over your shoulder, distracted by the bubbling pot of beef stew to give your fellow Hunter a proper greeting.

The clank of metal is your only indication that SAM is approaching, and then you get your confirmation with a pair of robotic arms wrapped around your waist, much like a large child wanting attention from their mother by clinging to them.

"Did you have a good mission?" you ask gently, stirring in some spices.

"...It went just as Elio foretold," SAM says in its metallic voice. The armor's head leans down to rest on your shoulder, even rubbing on the cloth a few times.

You chuckle at the gesture. "Y'know, if Blade shows up, he's not gonna be happy at how this looks."

SAM shrugs. "He'll deal with it. He already has to share with Kafka and Silver Wolf."

"What am I, a stuffed toy?" you cackle. "I'm just saying, this looks very romantic right now."

"It's not."

"I know. But you know him; he's always looking for an excuse to train."

"I am. And you seem free right now."

You crane your head to see the rough outline of who can only be Blade leaning on the kitchen doorframe. You can't see his face, but you know from his voice that he's not pleased.

SAM grunts and steps away from you, then ignites into flames, revealing the little girl within. Firefly stretches her arms, then eagerly jumps back to latch herself to your back.

"Not anymore," she huffs smugly, burying her face in your back. "I'm helping with cooking now."

"No, you're not. Tell her you're not helping." You finally have a good look at your lover, and you nearly chortle at the displeasure etched onto his face.

Firefly looks up at you with big, puppy-dog eyes, and you smile wickedly.

"I do need a hand with the vegetables," you muse, over-exaggeratedly placing a hand under your chin to mimic being deep in thought. "Firefly, dear, could you help with the carrots?"

"Of course." Behind your back, the girl sneers at her fellow Stellaron Hunter, who can only snarl in return.

You laugh, and turn around to give your lover a cheeky wink. But when his lips curl in a sinful smirk, you flush and look away.

You'll pay for this later tonight.

#honkai star rail #hsr blade #blade x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader

[sometimesanalice]

Make Me Your Masterpiece

Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)

(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)

You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.

They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.

You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.

“I think that’s-” you’d started.

“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.

The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes. 

The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.

By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.

Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.

The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.

You’d been a goner right then and there.

And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.

As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.

Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.

He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.

Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.

You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”

It was the best first date you’d ever had.

For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.

You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.

You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.

Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.

You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting. 

Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.

He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode. 

You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.

Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.

You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.

Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.

“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”

You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.

It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.

Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.

“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”

He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth. 

You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.

You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.

It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.

There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.

First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.

You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.

Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.

Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.

Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.

You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you. 

After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.

“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.

He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”

Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.

You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.

Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.

You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.

He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”

“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.

You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.

His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.

“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”

You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.

The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.

“Where do you want me?”

“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.

His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”

Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”

You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.

You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.

His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.

Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.

He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.

Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.

There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.

He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”

You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.

Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.

You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.  

“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”

Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.

You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.

“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”

The answer is easy, “Yes.”

You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.

The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.

The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.

He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”

You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

“Bob”, you whine.

The camera clicks.

“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.”  He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”

The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.

He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.

The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.

“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”

“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.

He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.

“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”

Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.

Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.

Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.

But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.

“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”

Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.

Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.

All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.

You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.

You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.

His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.

You needed more.

“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.

He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.

“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”

Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.

He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.

He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.

It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.

Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.

The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.

He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.

You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.

“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”

You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.

He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.

Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.

Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.

It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.

You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.

Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.

This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.

The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”

You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.

“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.

“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.

“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”

He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.

That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.

It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.

That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.

He gave you the sky and he made you his world.

Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!

A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd smut #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #robert bob floyd fic #bob x you #bob x reader

[badaleesbish]

I want to see something where Bada gets idol!reader pregnant and their relationship is public. I dont have a plot just want to see something cute. Maybe throw in some drama cause why not

Down bad bada is a must

What A Life. | Bada Lee x Reader

°SUMMARY:

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗."

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐."

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."

~ 𝙹𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚎 𝙰𝚒𝚔𝚘 - 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 (𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎)

°CW:

𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚐!𝚙 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚊, 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢, 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎 (𝚛. & 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚊), 𝙳𝙸𝙳 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙵 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳‼️ 𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚁𝚈 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂‼️

There is a lot to being an idol. From having some sort of talent, just simply being a pretty face to look at to strict diets and contracts, hectic overloaded schedules, and toxic groups and companies, but there is something that is expected of you is an idol. Can you guess what it is...

Being the only one for your fans, a parasocial relationship if you will. You are supposed to stay pure and innocent for your fans, no sex, no relationship, no children, no drinking or smoking, no potty mouth. You are supposed to keep your fans as happy as possible, whether it makes you uncomfortable or not. Just do it with a smile, they say. Well, so much for not "breaking" the "idol rules."

You may have screwed up a few months into your solo career as an idol. Your relationship with your choreographer, Bada Lee, was exposed by fucking sasaengs and then was quickly picked up by Dispatch, fucking snitch. There was some hate with comments on your social media like,

"Unnie, you are not ashamed for abandoning us like this?"

"Well... there goes her career."

"Noona, a woman, seriously?!?!? Maybe you should get a real MAN?!?!"

"Wow, so we fuck our choreographers now."

"STAY AWAY BADA, YOU DIRTY CUNT!!!"

But despite the hate, you and Bada decided to go public with your relationship, which gained quite a bit of support with comments from both your fanbases,

"Come on, guys, just admit it. They are cute as fuck."

"Love it!!!"

"Both of my worlds are colliding. What the actual fuck?!?!?."

"My parents are so cute!!!"

"Made for each other fr."

"Look at how they look at each other."

You both were happy. Your careers were skyrocketing, and you two still had somewhat of a supportive fanbase together and solo. Your company were somewhat supportive but still made you apologize to fans to regain their trust again.

"So what you are telling me is that I have to apologize for falling in love?" You scoffed as you sat across from your manager and a couple of members of your staff. "Are you hearing yourself right now?"

"Well, ma'am, you signed a contract that states everything regarding the dating ban as well as the consequences that may follow if broken." Your manager said, pushing the contract towards you as well as pen and paper to follow. "It's there in black and white, ma'am."

"So what's next? Are you gonna make me apologize for getting married and starting a family, too? You said as you began to write your heartfelt apology to your fans.

"Well, let's just hope that doesn't happen, right?" Your manager said as he leaned back in his seat with a smirk on his face. "You are our money maker, sweetheart, so we kind of need you. Tell your bitch to wrap that shit up, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever." You scoffed as you pushed the pan and paper back towards him, standing from your seat as you made your way to the door. "Also, if I were you, I'd watch what the fuck I say since ya know, I am your money maker."

"So what do we do with it?"

"Bada, you don't have to do anything. I have to handle this."

"It should be fairly easy, right?"

Bada was quite confused about the whole situation. It's like, at one moment, you were perfectly fine and then you end up sick at the simple scent or taste of a food. At first you both thought it was your menstrual cycle until you realized you were a whole two weeks late. It can't be, right? There's no way... Is there?

"Okay, I'll just read the instructions and just go for it. What's the worst that could happen?" You grabbed the bag of pregnancy test and made your way to the bathroom with Bada hot on your heels. "Baby, just let me take the test, okay? Alone, please?"

"Yeah, of course. If you need me, just call." Bada said, kissing your forehead before backing up allowing you to walk into the bathroom. "I'll be right here, okay?"

You nodded as you closed the door behind you. Nerves began to rush over your body as you pulled the test from the bag and began to read the instructions.

"Okay, step one, remove the plastic cap and use immediately. Step two, hold the absorbent tip in urine stream for five seconds. Step three, replace cap and lay test flat. Step four, wait 1 to 3 minutes for results." You read, taking deep breath after the mouth full. "Alright, seems simple."

After five tests, constant hand washing and the struggle of just trying to pee on the stick, you were finally done and now is the even more nerve-wracking part, waiting for the results. The three minutes seemed like hours, but it was time, and to be honest, you were scared shit less. If these tests come out positive, what will this mean for both of your careers?

"Bada..." You called out for your girlfriend on the other side of the door. "Come in here now."

"What does it say? Baby, why are you crying?" Bada said as she rushed into the bathroom to see you sitting on the floor with a test in your hands as tears stream down your cheeks.

Bada looked over to the other tests on the counter. Her hands flew over her mouth as she let out gasp. "Positive... it's positive."

Bada sat next to you, wrapping her arms around your body as you sob into her shirt, still gripping to test in your hand. You are pregnant, and there's no going back now. It's not that you don't want children, you do, but not this early and not like this. You wanted to getting married and be settled, no more idol life just you, Bada and your baby living somewhere discreet and outside the public eye.

"What are we gonna do, Bada? What about my career? What about your career? The fans? The company?" You began to play out everything in your head of what would happen if the public found out. All the backlash and more negative comments. "I'm scared, Bada."

"Hey, it's you and I, okay? Don't worry about all of that. If this was not meant to be, then it would have never happened." Bada lifted your head as she wiped your falling tears, gently caressing your cheeks. "It's okay to be scared, baby. This is new for both of us. We're gonna take it one step at a time. Together."

You smiled weakly as you leaned into her touch, nodding in agreeance. "I love you."

"I love you too." Bada said, pulling you into a kiss. "We got this."

"We got this."

°AN:

Ummm... I really hope you enjoy this, and I am sorry for the VERY late response. Enjoy, tho!!! 💙

#bada lee #bada lee smut #bada lee imagine #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #street woman fighter x reader #team bebe #street woman fighter 2 #swf2

[skibasyndrome]

what do you think wilmon is doing right now at this very moment on april 23, 2024?

oh my god sjkaskdfhdsafkadshf this feels like a math question almost, wait, I am so lost on the timeline.......... happy car scene was 2021, right? Either way THANK YOU, WHAT A LOVELY QUESTION 💜💜💜

Okay well I'd like to believe that they are currently taking a little evening walk through Stockholm (where both of them study at university). They're meeting Felice for dinner later and, responsible as they are (mostly because Simon will not let Wille get in the way of his studying, pretty and kissable and right there as he is), they've already finished their reading and assignments for the next day back at the library (a good place for studying because there's less risk of giving into the temptation of having a very pretty, very kissable boyfriend right there). They're holding hands. Wille has taken Simon's hand and buried it in his coat jacket while still holding onto it tightly because while he'd love to swing their hands around between them (he will normally never miss an opportunity to show the world that this is the guy whose hand he gets to hold) he knows that Simon does not enjoy the cold one bit, and he will do anything to keep him warm. It means they can't walk quite as briskly as they normally would and it also means that they keep bumping their shoulder into each other, but that's honestly not a problem, in fact that makes it just a little bit more fun (because, with that as well, Wille will never miss an opportunity to show the world that this is his boyfriend and that he is Simon's boyfriend and he's very happy to be that couple hogging most of the space on the sidewalk). They're enjoying the last minutes of sunshine, both because it makes the cold a little more bearable (Simon doesn't mind having to squint, give him every last ray of sun please) and because, in Wille's opinion, Simon just looks extra beautiful in the golden light (like it's not actually the sun, but him that's glowing). Simon pulls his hand out of Wille's grasp to fix his beanie and pull it further down, hiding his ears from the relentless wind and Wille gets that, but it's really hard not to pout when he's suddenly no longer able to touch Simon. And like he can read his mind (every day it gets a little more difficult to believe that Simon doesn't actually have psychic abilities), Simon turns to give Wille that look, lips curling in the corners of his mouth like he's trying to keep that beautiful, wide grin that Wille knows so well from breaking out, eyes crinkling in the most adorable way; that look that means you're unbelievable, you're such a sap, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, you make my heart ache. And Wille, knowing full and well that he is a sap (and that Simon loves it), bites his lip so he doesn't start giggling (no, years later he still hasn't gotten over those butterflies that flood his chest when he can see his own love and adoration mirrored back in Simon's eyes) and that's all it takes for Simon to slip his hand back into Wille's coat pocket and to intertwine their fingers again as they continue on their path.

(a photo I took on a walk in Stockholm for the ~mood~)

#wilmon #WELL THAT ESCALATED #sorry Martina you truly bring out the worstbest/bestworst in me <3 #themarsbar #answered #young royals

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for making my brother happy?

Look, I get that I tried to brainwash the entire world the first time, and I learned my lesson the hard way that when you try to achieve world domination the twin brother who betrayed you at age eleven by getting adopted without you will infiltrate your fake school with smart children one of which is psychic and shut down the operation.

And I also get that I was sorta trying to brainwash the entire world the second time. BUT! This time I was doing it by making everyone experience happiness!

Of course my twin brother had to show up and be like, it’s UNETHICAL, and ARTIFICIAL, and blah blah blah. As if he can say anything about ethics. He betrayed me as children. He got adopted and never came back for me. Who is he to be all morally high and mighty?

But I guess I sorta missed him so… I hypnotized into having the happiness too! So then he was happy! And this kind of happiness didn’t even trigger his narcolepsy, which is a good thing, right? Cause “real” happiness makes him fall asleep, so this is better!

But um. My technique appears to be making people go eventually catatonic and lose the ability to feel or move or speak or experience life. I am beginning to think I may have screwed up.

AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

[stayyyyyyyyyyyy21]

"In the Warmth of Trust: A Promise Recalled" part 2

BANG CHAN X READER x stray kids

(part 1)

TYPE: ANGST, CHEATING, fluff

( i feel the ending is very cringe but this only came in my mind)

(also bang chan is an angel, this is just fictional)

When Chan broke up with you and you stopped eating or going out, your dream of mastering your studies turned to shit and you scored the lowest grade in your class. All you did was text Bang Chan and cry for him until he blocked you. When the results of your first semester came, you were broken. You couldn't believe that you let Chan's situation waste six months of your life and take away half of your dream college experience. You went to your grade professor and explained the whole situation. Luckily, your college had two batches a year: the December winter batch and the summer batch in June. Your professor asked you to reappear in the December batch, which was ideal. That winter batch changed your life. It's been seven years since Chan's situation. You just turned 30 and were actually preparing for the reunion of your undergraduate batch in Korea with Changbin. You and Changbin both became college professors: he was in the music department and you were a law professor.

Fast forward to the reunion. You met all of your friends, but then you heard Changbin yell, "OMG!" and you turned to see Bang Chan and Felix. You felt no emotions; you were just happy to see they were okay and doing well in life. Changbin dragged you to see your old group, and you instantly got deja vu when everyone in the group blocked you, including Changbin. When you saw Bang Chan and Felix, Felix looked at you in an apologetic way. He pushed Bang Chan and hugged you, saying, "I am sorry for everything. I didn't know you didn't dump Chan; it was Chan who dumped you." You just smiled at Lix and said, "What happened was in the past, let it go."

Before you could reply to Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, and all of them started beating up Bang Chan and Felix. Both Chan and Felix left Korea and went back to Australia five months after you left Japan. They started their own company in Australia, and since they got busy, they lost touch with the whole group. All of you sat, and Felix asked you, "Y/N, you are the only one whose life is a mystery." All of them looked at you, and you said, "Really?"

Felix asked, "What happened after all that drama? I don't even know how you and the guys became friends again. I mean, when Changbin hyung called me to come for this meet up, he also mentioned how Bang Chan was the one who left you. NGL, I stopped talking to him for two months, but at the end, I had to talk since he was my partner." You smiled, "It's okay, Felix." Chan and Felix looked at you and asked, "So what were you up to in these years? You don't even have social media; you look different."

Y/N said, "Are you saying I got fat, Christopher Bang?" Changbin quickly said, "Hey, it's happy post-baby weight gain," and Bang Chan and Felix were shocked. Chan's disappointment was showing on his face with regrets. Felix got more excited and asked you about your life. You replied, "Well, when my college ended, I had to come back to Korea. After coming back, I was a guest lecturer and preparing for the assistant professor exams. While preparing, I suddenly bumped into Changbin, and he gave me the dirtiest look ever. I ignored him, and he made a comment, 'Look, cheater is back.' I was angry; I turned and hit him with my book and yelled at him, 'Me, cheater? Really, Changbin? Your friend was the one who broke up with me and at the same week got together with Sana, and I am a cheater?' That's when Changbin, Hyunjin, and I.N. all came to me and apologized. I never wanted to be friends with them again because they believed Chan, but everyone deserves a second chance, right?"

Felix said, "Hey, hey, you didn't tell us about your baby and your partner?" Y/N laughed, "Well, I met my 'husband' (the word 'husband' made Bang Chan's eyes more regretful) in Japan itself. I was roaming in the market street and spotted a familiar face. We both looked at each other, and you know, it was only six months after the breakup from Chan, and I got news that I had to repeat a semester. I was emotional, so I just looked at him and started crying." Felix interrupted, "Wait, wait, wait, so you knew him?" Y/N replied, "Yep, he was from our batch. He just stood there and comforted me."

Y/N: Well, after the meeting, I asked him not to talk to the gang about this since I wanted to talk to everyone directly. And since I was starting a new college, I didn't want people from the past to be back again. My husband and I talked to each other via FaceTime every day. He came to Japan for my graduation and asked me on a date.

Felix: Aww.

Y/N: But I said no. Haha, I actually didn't want to be in a relationship. I had zero trust. So, he waited for my answer for one year, and one day when I saw him taking care of me, I confessed to him. Since then, we are stronger than ever. We got married two years ago, and we just had a baby girl. My husband was the reason I improved my grades in college, and I believed in love again. He was my strength and pillar during my worst times. I thought I would never believe in happiness again.

Bang Chan was shattered. He couldn't even look at you in the eye because he realized you lost your friends and had to repeat a semester because of him, just because he wanted to fool around with Sana for a few weeks.

Felix asked Y/N, "Hey, show us a picture of your baby." Y/N showed him the picture, and he said, "OMG, she is so cute! She looks like a bunny." Lee Know yelled from the back, "Of course, she is cute; she is my daughter." Everyone looked back at Lee Know, who was holding your daughter, who was wearing a bear suit. Felix ran to Lee Know, and Lee Know thought felix was giving him a hug , but Felix just snatched your daughter from him and started taking selfies with her. While everyone was laughing, Chan went to Lee Know and said, "Thanks for taking care of Y/N." Lee Know said with a cold look, "You don't have to thank me." He made his way to the gang who were literally fighting each other to hold your and Lee Know's daughter. Bang Chan just stood there, watching you, Lee Know, and your daughter being the perfect family with your friends, and he found himself alone.

#bangchan x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz #stray kids #bangchan #bang chan #chan #channie #straykids angst #angst #STRAYKIDS CHEATING #BANG CHAN CHEATING #STRAY KIDS #REALTIONSHIP #lee know x reader #lee minho #lee know smut #lee know x y/n #stray kids imagines #hyunjin x reader #lee know x you #lee minho x reader smut

[fiveredlights]

I saw you mentioned you liked kid fic and had bookmarks— do you have any reccs for maxiel kid fics?❤️❤️

do i ever!!!! one thing about me is that i will eat kid fics up, like i think i’ve read about all the tagged kid fics in the maxiel tag. i love seeing what names authors choose for their children and it just makes me happy. here's a couple and if you want more lmk!

listen to the slow parts by @nobrakesdown [T-7.2k]

Neither Max or Daniel are the one to find the baby. That honor belongs to Christian, and Christian alone.

a lil you, a lil me, a perfect being by 3_33 (@maxcuntstappen) [G-4.8k]

The three of them stand outside, looking at the entrance, August in the middle, clutching tightly onto Max and Daniel’s hands.

“Okay, I need you both to repeat after me.”

“Daniel, we already did this in the car. Can we please just go in?” Max asks, desperately, which only confirms to Daniel the need to remind all of them of the ground rules.

“Baby, please. We need to remember, okay? We are here to meet some new friends and play with them. It is okay if we don’t meet anybody we like. We can always come again. There is no need for us to be upset. Yeah?”

“Yes, Daddy,” August says and drops his hand to give Daniel a mock salute and Daniel really didn’t know he could love someone so much.

“Max,” Daniel implores, knowing that it is as important that his husband acknowledges the plan as much as their kid.

“Yes, yes, Daniel, okay,” Max rolls his eyes but nods in agreement.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Daniel says. The three of them walk in through the doors.

Or: Daniel and Max visit an animal shelter for their son, August's fourth birthday. Daniel is apprehensive. Max and August are vibrating out of their skin.

That's Where I Am by @flawlessassholes [E-47.8k-6/8]

“Her name is Emily,” Daniel says softly. Max’s eyes snap down to the baby, still sleeping on Daniel’s chest. It’s—she’s snoring a little. In that snuffly way that babies snore. “Short for Emilian.” His eyes snap back to Daniel’s face, so serious, and Max knows it’s a joke, of course, but he still opens his mouth to say— Then Daniel’s face breaks into that wide grin, the real one, the one Max hasn’t seen since. Well. In a while. It feels at once so familiar, and also like seeing something rise from the dead.

There’s a month between Melbourne and Baku. A month to convince Daniel to return to racing. A month to learn and relearn how to love. A month for everything to feel right amidst a season that has felt nothing but wrong. A month to create a family, and a month to maybe lose it all.

keep me in the open by Aurelia (Lily_Rizzy) (@lilyrizzy) [E-11.7k]

"Chrissy Baker sounds like a cunt,” Daniel says, then cringes at the pointed look his mum shoots him. “What? It’s not like they’re old enough to repeat that yet.”

Grace laughs, the sound audible now over Livia’s cries, which are quickly fading into miserable whimpers. Of course, she behaves for grandma, and not the dad who dotes on her endlessly, feeds her, cuddles her, and wipes her smelly ass.

“Three words, Daniel,” she says, eyebrows raised. “Cash, money, bitches.”

or, Daniel navigates bed times, bath times and jealousy, while Max races his last season in Formula One

summer sun after the rain by gentleau [T-11.7k]

“Papà? Is Max your friend?” “He used to be.”

then you came by beforemidnight [G-4.5k]

Daniel looks at Max swiftly but pointedly. Smiling, he looks back at the camera. “Marrying him was the easiest decision of my life.”

(don't let) the days go by citydreaming (@thewindowatkirkland) [M-11.3k]

“Hey” Daniel says “thanks for coming over.”

“Is now a good time? If you are busy I can come back later.”

“Now is fine, she’s already asleep so we should be able to talk without being interrupted.”

“Talk about how you have a daughter.”

Daniel bites his lip nervously “yeah, about that.”

OR: single dad daniel returns to the grid for one final year with red bull, max doesn’t plan on falling in love with him and his daughter, but somehow it happens anyway.

#i have also gone through all 187 pages of the maxiel tag alphabetically by author but we don’t need to talk about that #me my ao3 bookmarks and google sheets against the world #f1 fic rec #maxiel

[celluloidbroomcloset]

The more I think about it, the more I do wonder if some of the source of the more problematic ships/fan headcanons surrounding Izzy is based in the concept of love/sex as a reward for service or suffering. (Note: I am not at all saying that what follows is 100% correct - mostly just proposing a hypothesis. I'm riffing on @naranjapetrificada's post here, but I didn't want to go off on a treatise on someone else's post that wasn't even directly about this.)

Izzy’s world is upended with Stede’s appearance. He goes from being the trusted second in command to Blackbeard to being thrown off the ship (by his own making, already). All of his suffering (in his own mind) can be traced back to Stede and consequently Stede and Ed’s relationship. The narrative forms him as an antagonist not just to Stede but to the narrative's central concern, the entire reason for telling the story: the Stede/Ed relationship. He is the opposition of the healthy, happy, queer couple, and at each turn, he suffers for it.

In Season 2, his suffering is compounded to the point that he loses his leg in a really traumatic way, at the hands of a man he claims (in the same episode) to love. This leads into his being offered grace by the crew and the start of some shedding of his toxic masculinity (which has been the real enemy all along). And this is where I hypothesize that some fans start shaping him into someone who is now deserving of a reward. Izzy has changed! He’s grown! He’s doing better! Doesn't he *deserve* a reward for that?!

One of the forms that this reward must take is love/sex - and since the focal point of the entire show, as well as the causes of Izzy’s suffering, are Ed and Stede (the happy queer relationship) then his reward must be one or the other, or both. Having suffered and having come to better terms with his gender and sexual identity, he deserves the reward of romantic love and/or sex.

This is all, of course, not right, and the show never even hints that love or sex should be treated as a reward. Neither Ed nor Stede show any desire to provide Izzy with this reward (and honestly, I don’t think that Izzy the character expects that either, even if his fans might). But I do think that some of the anger and some of the “fix-it” mentality of the fandom subsection comes from the fact that Izzy’s character growth is not rewarded by romantic love or sex. (This ignores as well that he does find love in other ways, via his friendship with the crew, but this is also not typed as something he DESERVES or is rewarded for his good behavior.)

Stede in particular, I think, becomes a focus of the combined fan ire and desire because (in their minds) he was the original catalyst for Izzy’s suffering, he has obtained the reward of Ed’s love (thereby depriving Izzy of it), and he can be fitted for the enemies to lovers arc (plus he’s white and there’s undoubtedly racism at play here, as many have discussed). This might even be extended to Ed's love for Stede: that Ed was in some way rewarded for becoming better, that Stede's love healed him and therefore Izzy—who is so much more deserving, right?!—should also be offered that love.

Again, this is all based in toxic, erroneous assumptions both about the characters, about the show, and about love and sex, but all those assumptions have been made by stories in the past and are baked into a lot of mainstream culture.

The "fix-it" nature of ships like Stizzy and Steddyhands come down to some fans believing Izzy is not being granted his just rewards for his suffering and character growth in the form of love and sex specifically from the lead couple who have caused his suffering.

At least, that's what I think is going on.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #edward teach #not gonna tag the other guy right now #fandom critical

[texasbama]

oh I AM WALKING

Like……i just. Hm. Okay. So like

Season 8: Buck is exploring and having fun with his newly discovered sexuality. With tommy or whoever. Doesnt matter. We see Eddie dealing with the layers and complexity of his catholic guilt. Him starting to truly discover what it actually is HE wants for himself versus what he think’s supposed to want.

Buck throughout the season, while dating, is having fun and he’s happy but he starts to feel like there is just still something missing but he doesn’t know what it is. We see the boys stories parallel in that way for most of the season. S8 finale. Big emergency cliffhanger. Trapped dads vibes okay. Perhaps feelings come out. Buck realizes “oh shit. Im in love with Eddie” and tries to tell Eddie but then something bad happens. Bam! End of season.

Season 9: buck is reeling from this realization but like. They almost died so all emotions are on 10. They are in the hospital talking about everything but the elephant in the room. They talk about the will and what it means. Its heavy. Eddie telling Buck again that there is no one else for his son. No one else for HIM. “Its only ever been you Buck” and they are just sitting in this moment with so many words left unsaid. Both of them scared of the magnitude of their feelings.

The season continues as both of the boys try and navigate through what it means to be in love with your best friend. Eddie possibly working through having feelings for a man. Buck scared of losing what they have but also knowing that Eddie is it for him. Maybe mid season, they finally sit down and talk. Buck tells Eddie in so many words: I want you. I want this life we have made together with Chris. I love you. Eddie feels the same way. they both agree: we need to be sure, because once we go there, there is no going back. This could be a great thing for both of them but they have to be ready for it.

Now as 9B goes on, we see flirty Buddie. We see them basically together but not together ya know? They are happy taking their time cause they know the wait will be worth it. Now of course cause this is a primetime drama, some very traumatic/ dramatic will happen in the season finale. Now while nothing happens to the boys physically, whatever big ugly thing that happened, they just want to be with each other afterwards. They are each other’s home. We get a scene in the finale of them at Eddie’s house, on the couch. Eddie basically says that he doesn’t know if he will ever be 100% ready (more to do with his feelings about his own shortcomings) but that he is 100% sure about them. About Buck. He says I love you. Buck says it back. Then Buck proceeds to give his own love declaration. All these beautiful words about how Eddie has been what he has been looking for all this time. That this life is short (they understand that better than most) and he wants to spend whatever time he has left with Eddie and Chris. Cue first kiss. Cue thousands of fan girls dying. End season.

Season 10: now that they are together i feel like the lead up to an engagement could be fun. They are all happy and in love and they are sappy and Chris is making fun of them. Maybe on a call, or somewhere else Buck introduces Eddie as his fiancé and Eddie is like ????? And we get some fun spiraling. Eddie talks to Hen or something. “I would know if I was proposed to right? I mean we’ve only been together a few months???” And Hen is just like “yall have been Buck and Eddie for much longer than that” so that leads to Eddie asking Buck about it. Buck is like yea I said I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you remember??? And Eddie is like that isn’t a proposal! A proposal usually includes a question like WILL YOU MARRY ME? Again. We’re having fun with this. So Buck is all like okay. Eddie, will you marry me? eddie thinks he’s joking but he’s not. The moment goes from light and fun to intimate and emotional. We get some more “you’re it for me. I love you” Buck is choosing Eddie. Eddie is being chosen. Eddie is choosing to be happy for himself. Eddie says yes. BAM! LET THE WEDDING PLANNING COMMENCE.

(Now obviously this is just idiots ramblings. These are bones and they story would need meat and muscles to become fully fleshed out but. I just. Ya know. Had feelings)

#911 asks

[tinydefector]

I feel like it's so hard finding anyone who writes for male reader so I am SO happy I've come across your blog. I was wondering if I could ask for a one shot maybe of Rung with a gn!reader who also makes miniature models? I enjoy making miniature dioramas and things and was wondering if you could write for it. Thank you so much!

Star Ships

Rung x Human reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: none

_____________________________

The human sits watching Rung as he wanders about his office, the mech mumbles to himself as he types away on a data pad taking notes after his last session with Whirl. His smaller companion had taken the opportunity to surprise him with a cube of energon as they sat drinking their own beverage. 

their eyes slowly move from him to take in the small model spaceships that are along the shelves, the last time they had been in here the area was rather bare while now it was filled with small models. "You collect model ships?" They ask while admiring them from afar.

Rung's optics sparkled with a mix of surprise and delight as their gaze wandered over the small model spaceships adorning the shelves of his office. He followed their line of sight, observing the meticulously crafted replicas that he had collected over the years. 

"Why, yes," Rung replied, a warm smile gracing his lips. "I do have a fondness for model ships. Each one tells its own story, representing different eras, factions, and adventures." He explains stepping closer to the shelves, his fingers lightly grazing the smooth surface of one of the models. His optics softened with a nostalgic twinkle as he recalled the memories associated with each ship.

"You see, collecting model ships has become a personal hobby of mine," Rung explained, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. "Over the millennias it's been my way of keeping pre war things, small glimpses of hope, for so much lost to war." As he spoke, Rung's gaze shifted to one particular model ship, a sleek vessel with elegant lines. It held a special place in his collection, representing a significant chapter of his own life.

"And this one," Rung continued, his voice filled with fondness, "is a replica of the Lost Light, our beloved ship. The model took me quite a while to figure out the design and craft it out, but I have to say it's almost a replica." Rung's smile widened, a touch of playfulness entering his voice.

"I must admit, I've been known to name these models as well," he confessed, his tone laced with gentle amusement. "It adds a personal touch, you see. They become more than just inanimate objects; they become companions, each with their own personality and history." His optics shifted back to the human, a warm curiosity evident in his gaze.

A soft laugh leaves them as they look over the model. "They kinda remind me of some of the dioramas I used to make, haven't made many after leaving earth, kinda hard to get the right things to make them, but the model ships do seem rather fun, I might have to get you to teach me how to do these ships" they state, fingers lightly dancing over the model ship.

Rung's optics widened with genuine interest, his smile grew, a blend of curiosity and anticipation evident on his faceplate. "Dioramas, you say?" Rung replied, his voice tinged with genuine enthusiasm. "How fascinating! I'd love to hear more about them. What kind of scenes did you recreate in your dioramas?"

He leaned closer, his attention fully focused on them. Rung's curiosity was piqued, wondering what stories and landscapes the human had brought to life through their creative endeavours. He had always appreciated the artistry and attention to detail that went into crafting dioramas.

"I liked making scenes from movies, books and occasionally just landscapes" it really depended on what had my interest at the time " they answer before handing the model ship back. They continue looking at the other ships. “ I have a shelf like yours back home, just filled with little dioramas, models and figures” His optics sparkled with a mixture of warmth.

"Creating scenes from movies and books must have allowed you to immerse yourself in those beloved narratives, to recreate the emotions and atmospheres that made them so captivating," Rung mused, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "Dioramas have a way of preserving those cherished memories, like frozen moments in time that we can revisit whenever we please."

"You know," Rung continued, his voice filled with gentle curiosity, "I find it intriguing how dioramas and model ships can both capture a moment in time, allowing us to explore different worlds and narratives. It's as if we're the architects of our own miniature universes, shaping them to reflect our imagination and experiences."

"Please, do tell me more about your dioramas," Rung encouraged, his voice soft and inviting. "What inspired you to create them?"

“well for me it's mainly the fact that each piece is a different memory, and well it's easier to remember things when you have a visually reminder, some are happy memories others sad but each people has a memory or emotional attachment, even the ones I make for other people”  He glanced back at the shelves adorned with model spaceships, contemplating the connection between his own collection and the human's dioramas.

"In a way, our hobbies share a similarity," Rung continued, his tone thoughtful. "Model ships and dioramas both allow us to capture and preserve pieces of our imagination and experiences. They become tangible reminders of the stories that have shaped us, evoking emotions and memories with each glance."

Rung's optics met the human's gaze, a warm smile playing on his lips. “Do you have a favourite piece?” he inquires softly. It takes them a moment to think. “my first ever one would be my favourite, not for the beauty but for the fact the first time ever making something means you at least tired your hand at the craft” 

"I can try and make you a diorama at some point if I can get the right stuff " they offer, 

Rung's optics widened in surprise. His usual composer faltered for a moment, replaced by a mix of curiosity and intrigue. He leaned forward slightly, his voice laced with genuine interest.

"A diorama made specifically for me?" Rung echoed, a hint of anticipation colouring his words. "That's a thoughtful gesture, and I must say” He paused for a moment, considering the implications of such a gift. While Rung appreciated the sentiment and the effort it would require, he also didn't want to impose on the human's time and resources.

"However," Rung continued, his voice polite yet tinged with a touch of caution, "I wouldn't want you to go to great lengths or expense on my behalf. Acquiring the necessary materials can be quite a task, and I wouldn't want to burden you with that. Your offer is certainly kind, but please don't feel obligated to fulfil it."

“Rung it's a hobby of mine, it's not a burden, it also gives me the opportunity to try and source materials, who knows how long we will be out here with limited things to do” they hum. It makes Rung smile softly. “Very well I'd be honoured than to see your crafts” 

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers x human #transformers idw #transformers lost light #rung mtmte #rung transformers #mtmte rung #idw rung #transformers rung #rung #rung tf #mtmte transformers #mtmte #tf mtmte #transformers mtmte #idw mtmte #idw transformers #tf idw

[cielcreations]

"Hung Up"

When Solidarity confessed his feelings to Tango, expressing his love and desire and asking the other on a date, Tango immediately said yes. He was so happy and excited, especially since he had been crushing on the other for what felt like years. They went on a couple of dates, smiling, laughing, getting to know one another, having fun.

"So, does this make us boyfriends?" Tango teased.

Solidarity blushed and smiled, going to say something before he paused. He seemed to remember something, then sighed, "Listen, I'm going to be completely upfront with you because I do want to be your boyfriend and stuff, but I have this... ex..."

"Is it a crazy stalker ex?"

"Not really. Just..." The dirty blonde tried to think of a way to word it, "He and I share a big friend group and he has convinced them that I'm apparently still hung up on him and that he was so kind to continue being my friend even though we broke up. Oh, and the reason I haven't dated anyone is cause I'm totally waiting for him to come back!" He groaned, visibly annoyed as sarcasm laced his voice, "Hell, he's convinced my siblings of this when he's the one calling me drunk in the middle of the night!"

"Why haven't you blocked him, if you don't mind me asking?" Tango questioned.

The dirty blonde sighed, "It's cause of the friend group we share. I've always been really awkward, so I just became friends with my siblings friends and then when I began dating Scott, my ex, I became friends with his friends. I don't really have a lot of my own friends and, if I block him, everyone would make it this big deal, like I broke the law or something and I just..." He sighed again, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to vent..."

"No, no, it's fine." The blonde reassured with a smile, gently putting a hand on his shoulder, "I understand. It's probably really annoying and frustrating and I'm guessing you don't have a lot of people to talk to about this."

Solidarity weakly nodded, "...I just don't want to rock the boat. Makes my anxiety shoot through the roof. If I just go with it, no matter how uncomfortable I am, it'll be fine."

Tango hugged him, "But that's not healthy, Soli..."

"I-I know, I know... I just don't know what to do..."

"We'll work on it, okay? First step to fixing a problem is acknowledging there is a problem, so you're on the right track already!"

Solidarity laughed before he hummed, "Anyways, all this to say that if we do start dating and you get these comments about how I'm supposedly not over Scott or how you're 'just a rebound', that's untrue and ignore it. Scott and I broke up in high school."

"Wait, wait, with how you talked about this, this sounds like a recent break up! You guys broke up in high school?"

"Yep. And trust me, I know." He sighed, "It's why I moved here, mainly to put some distance between myself and the friend group and my siblings. I don't want them to choose between Scott and I, but I just don't want to hear how hung up I apparently am or how I need to get back in the dating field or if I ignore Scott or don't do something for him, I'm holding a grudge!" He huffed.

Tango hugged him more, "Well, don't worry, I'm not one to take shit lying down! If they want to poke fun, I poke back but harder!" He giggled, "In the meantime, why don't I introduce you to my friends? It'll be good to meet new people, plus it will help to keep your mind of things!"

Solidarity smiled, "I'd like that."

The two became an official couple, Tango showing Solidarity off to all his friends. Solidarity asked Tango if he was okay with him waiting before he told his friends and siblings, Tango not minding. In the meantime, the dirty blonde fit right in with Skizz, Impulse, Zed, Bdubs, and Etho. With his clumsy, adorable but sweet attitude, it meshed well with the chaotic mess that could be Skizz and Zed in the same room. Solidarity also got along with Etho and Impulse, the three usually acting as the peacemakers when Tango and Bdubs joined in on whatever chaos Zed and Skizz tried to bring. It was overall a great thing and Tango could see his beautiful boyfriend seemed to glow even more. It was like a dark cloud he noticed that was always over Solidarity's head seemed to finally disappear, especially since he's been on his phone or computer less, talking to that friend group less.

One night, the group were all at Impulse's house, sharing a few drinks and laughs, when Solidarity's phone buzzed. He hummed, a bit tipsy as he answered the phone without checking the caller ID.

"Hello-" He paused and his face fell immediately. He looked at Tango, who looked at him, concerned. Solidarity then seemed to get an idea, eyes widening as he smirked, "Okay, wait one second, hold on!" He put the phone on speaker, leaning into Tango, "Can you hear me?"

"Yeaaaah?" A Scottish voice responded in a questioning tone.

"Okay, good." He then looked at the blonde, playing with his hair, "Tango, Light, could you introduce yourself to Scott for me?"

Tango's eyes widened before he smirked, taking the phone, "Hello Mr. Scott, my name is Tango Tek, aka light of Solidarity's life, aka his honey, aka his handsome man, aka his soulmate, aka his rancher, aka his boyfriend, and we are actually currently in the middle of making out so we would appreciate no more interruptions! I know it's been awhile for you, but I need Soli's soft lips on mine, it is quite addicting! To bad you can't experience it! Buh-byyyyyyyye~!" He hung up, everyone laughing as the blonde gave Solidarity his phone back and kissed his cheek.

"Who was that?" Zed asked.

Tango wrapped an arm around his boyfriend, "Crazy ex."

"Crazy stalker ex?" Etho prodded.

"Not stalker level yet." Solidarity reassured, "But definitely crazy ex. From high school."

"Yep, that'll do it." Bdubs joked, "Anyone need another drink? I'm heading to the kitchen."

The night continued and everyone slept over, seeing as they were not going to drink and drive. Tango and Solidarity shared the couch, the dirty blonde acting as Tango's blanket as they cuddled and slept together. So, it made it very obvious when Solidarity got off the couch, causing the blonde to stir as his weighted blanket was no longer there. He sat up, glancing around before hearing something outside. Tango walked outside and saw Solidarity, very clearly frustrated, tears in his eyes with the tension in his body.

"...Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, i didn't tell you guys for this exact reason?!" Solidarity yelled, "...Yeah, you're my brother, and yet you constantly choose Scott over me! Don't-! ...No, you can't even say that, don't you dare say that! I've told you repeatedly that Scott makes me uncomfortable, that I don't like him being around, and you, with everyone else, brushed me off because I 'have to get over him!'" The dirty blonde said in a mocking voice with air quotes.

He was silent, before hissing out, "He called me! The only reason you all now know I'm dating is cause Scott can't get over the fact I moved two hours away from everyone and refuse to give him my address or pick him up when he goes out drinking! I was going to tell you all on my time, but of course, Scott ruined it because he fucking ruins everything! So, yes, I am dating someone! Okay?! Happy?! Bye!" He hung up.

Tango moved and hugged him, Solidarity leaning into him. The blonde rubbed the other's back, feeling Solidarity shake in frustration as his tears stained Tango's shirt. Tango cooed and rubbed circles into his back, kissing his forehead.

"I'm so sick of him..." The dirty blonde murmured.

Tango nodded, "Do you want me to block him for you?"

"No, it-"

"I can be the bad guy. If he complains, tell him and his flying monkeys that I feel uncomfortable with your ex trying to talk with you."

Solidarity hummed, "Later... Just hold me now..."

Tango hugged him tighter, "Gladly."

After everyone had woken up and began eating breakfast, Tango took Solidarity's phone, sending Scott a text and prefaced it by saying it was him and how he didn't feel comfortable with Scott talking to Solidarity when they were together and to please not text or call him anymore before blocking him. When the two got home, Solidarity had gotten a bunch of texts from his brother and sister as well as mutual friends he had with Scott, all saying how they didn't know he was dating someone new, asking why he didn't tell them, and then asking why Tango blocked Scott.

"The more they talk, the more I just want to go no contact." Solidarity admitted, "It's always about Scott. If I don't help him, I'm an asshole holding a grudge over the breakup. If I do help, I'm still hung up. Blocking him for 'no reason' is not okay and I need to let go. I'm just so over this."

Tango took his phone and shut it off, "Okay, let's just forget about electronics for the day. How about we do something to get your mind off things?"

"Like what?"

Tango kissed his cheek, smiling, "We could go to the bedroom~?"

"Oh my god!" Solidarity laughed, "Trying to get in my pants when this is serious talk?"

"Serious does not mean important! Besides, it'll make sure your mind is only on me soooooo~?"

"You're ridiculous." The dirty blonde kissed his nose, smiling, "Let's go."

When Solidarity turned his phone on the next day, he sent a simple text to everyone.

Solidarity:  Yes, I'm in a new relationship, I have been for two months. I didn't say anything because I wanted to wait and get more serious. I also don't want to jeopardize this relationship. Out of respect for Tango, and myself, I'm going to ask you to stop trying to get me to talk with Scott. 

Of course, people tried to ask more questions, but he made another text, simply saying "I don't feel comfortable sharing anymore details. Please just respect my boundaries." Of course, some complained, but he just closed his phone, ignoring it.

"I think they're starting to see you've developed quite a backbone!" Tango encouraged.

"Thanks to you, really." The dirty blonde smiled, "I really like you and our relationship means more to me than that friend group. Time to actually prove it, I guess."

"I'm proud of you." Tango kissed his lips, "I know it's hard putting down boundaries and sticking up for yourself, but once you get used to it, it becomes easier."

Solidarity nodded, smiling.

***

Solidarity didn't introduce Tango to his brother and sister and the friend group for about a year. Tango respected his decision and understood why, judging from their reactions when the dirty blonde first blocked Scott, he wasn't sure they would even accept that Solidarity actually moved on. However, it was Christmas and Solidarity explained he had been skipping the past couple holidays because he knew Scott would be there and didn't want to deal with the inevitable.

"It's been a year and we've been together ever since. Why don't we give them a chance?"

Solidarity was hesitant, "...I don't know."

"Come on, please?" Tango hugged him, "I can handle myself just fine, love! And I can shut them down! You know I can!"

The dirty blonde hesitated again before he sighed, "The moment I feel uncomfortable and ask you to pack your stuff, we leave."

"Of course!"

So, they made their way to Solidarity's brother's house, two hours away. Solidarity tapped anxiously on the steering wheel, biting his bottom lip.

"It's okay, we'll be fine." Tango reassured, able to see the other white-knuckling the steering wheel.

"I-I just-!" He took a deep breath, "I know Scott is probably going to be there and he's going to mention our high school days a lot." 

Tango shrugged, "Okay?"

"We used to call ourselves 'Flower Husbands' because we were teenagers exploring our sexuality or how he was my first relationship or how he was my first kiss or how he was my first whatever else." The dirty blonde rolled his eyes, sighing, "He's just going to try to embarrass me or make you jealous or something else."

"Was he your first? In, like, the bedroom department?"

Solidarity blushed darkly, "T-TANGO!"

"Yes or no?"

"I-I already told you, you were my first- oh..." The dirty blonde chuckled, "You are going to use that, aren't you?"

The blonde snickered, "Of course! I'll just mention how I deflowered one of the Flower Husbands and maybe it'll shut him up!"

"Idiot." Solidarity teased.

They continued talking and laughing, having an amazing time as they distracted themselves while driving. Eventually, they pulled up to the house and Solidarity sighed, taking a deep breath. There were a couple of cars already crowding the driveway, so Solidarity just parked in the grass. Tango was the first to step out, but the dirty blonde didn't move. He went to the driver's side, opening the door and kneeling down. He could see the other shaking a bit, biting his bottom lip anxiously, tapping his fingers on the wheel.

"It's okay." Tango reassured, cupping his face, "Soli, it's fine. You know me, I won't get jealous or feel threatened or whatever, no matter what anyone says."

"I-I know, I just..." Solidarity leaned into his touch, closing his eyes as he shook a bit, "I'm not worried about you..."

"Excuse me?"

Tango turned, seeing a brunette woman standing on the porch.

"Can I help you?" She asked, "Are you lost? This is private property."

"Uh, no, I'm not lost! Hi, I'm Tango, Soli's boyfriend!" Tango explained, standing up.

"'Soli?'" She repeated, confused.

"Solidarity?" Tango explained, "I-I call him Soli!"

Solidarity hesitantly got out of the car, Tango hovering over him. He shut the car door and smiled, but the man could see the anxiety written on his face still. Solidarity took Tango's hand in his, the blonde squeezing reassuringly.

"Hi Pearl." Solidarity smiled, relaxing a bit as he motioned to the blonde, "This is Tango. My boyfriend for a year and three months."

"Four months, really! I just wanted to take you out on a lot of pre-boyfriend dates!" Tango argued.

"Don't tell on yourself, Tango, my sister will think you're a coward for waiting a month to officially ask to be my boyfriend." The dirty blonde teased before looking at Pearl, "It's good to see you."

The brunette laughed, "Awww, you both are cute. It's nice to meet you Tango!" She walked over, hugging her brother, "And good to see ya, Jim. Come on! We're still waiting on a couple of people!"

They walked inside and Solidarity introduced Tango to Grian, his brother, and then some of the people in the friend group. Gem and Fwhip (who were twins), Joel and Lizzie (a married couple), Cleo, Scar, and Mumbo. All were polite, introducing themselves.

"Other people will be coming, but it's good to finally meet Solidarity's secret boyfriend!" Joel teased, raising an eyebrow, "Scott will be coming, hope it won't make you uncomfortable." He said in a nice tone, but Tango and Solidarity knew he was mocking the blonde.

Solidarity narrowed his eyes slightly, annoyed.

However, Tango just smiled, "Actually, it'd be great to meet the person who drunk called at two am and immediately hung up when I answered!" He said in the same nice voice before he looked at the dirty blonde, fake gasping, "WAIT! Do you think he hung up cause he had a crush on me?! Oh my god, Soli, I'm not prepared, where's the bathroom! I need to make myself presentable!"

Everyone laughed besides Joel, who narrowed his eyes a bit. Solidarity looked at Joel, took Tango's hand and kissed the blonde's cheek before pulling him to the couch. Everyone either caught up with Solidarity or got to know Tango better. Occasionally, either Fwhip or Joel would slip in a snarky comment about Tango blocking Scott or feeling uncomfortable with Scott, but disguised it as playful banter. Tango never took the bait, laughing it off or giving it right back.

At one point, he asked Joel, "Oh, so Lizzie must still talk to her exes, right? Seeing as you're so interested in Soli talking to his!"

Joel actually seemed shocked by this, responding, "Uh, no? Why would she? We're married, I wouldn't want her doing that."

"Huh, weird that you wouldn't want your wife talking to her exes." Tango looked at Solidarity, "I couldn't imagine that."

"Me either." Solidarity hummed, looking at Joel, "Anyways, what were you saying about Scott?"

That seemed to be the moment Joel sort of backed off. Fwhip still tried to get under Tango's skin, but Solidarity knew his boyfriend was a master of "not giving a shit". He watched Tango take whatever was thrown at him and either laughed it off or gave the same energy right back. He smiled and leaned into the other, happy.

However, after about an hour and a half, a couple more people arrived. Tango was introduced to Sausage, Martyn and Ren (a couple, Martyn being one of the ones who Solidarity actually talked to on a regular basis and who Tango immediately liked as the blonde whispered to him "Scott's a huge dick but has everyone wrapped around his finger, don't let him get to you or Timmy."), Big B, and Cub.

And, of course, Scott.

The man was last to arrive. He walked in and everyone, besides Solidarity, Tango, Martyn, and Ren, cheered, saying hi to him and giving him a hug. Scott laughed and hugged back before turning. He gasped as his eyes landed on Solidarity, smiling brightly.

"Dary, oh my god, it's been forever! How are you? It's so good to finally see you again!" He opened his arms to give the other a hug.

Tango could see his boyfriend stiffen up. So, he stepped in front of him and hugged Scott instead, "Hi! It's nice to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you from Grian, Joel, and Fwhip!" Scott pulled back, confused, but Tango held his hand, shaking it.

"Oh, uh, who are-?"

"It's such a pleasure to meet you! My name is Tango!" The blonde smiled innocently, "I'm Soli's boyfriend! We've been dating for a year and four months, not that anyone is counting."

"Three. You insisted on taking me on one month pre-boyfriend dates." Solidarity laughed.

"But we were still exclusive!" Tango turned around and gave Solidarity a hug, the dirty blonde happily returning it, "So that month counts!"

"You know what? It's Christmas, we'll let it count!"

"Yes!" The blonde cheered before he looked back at Scott, leaning into the dirty blonde. Solidarity wrapped one arm around his shoulders as Tango hugged his side, smiling at the other, "Anyways, yeah, it's so nice to finally meet you!"

Solidarity offered his other hand, seeing as the one was wrapped around Tango and too occupied for a hug, "Good to see you again, Scott."

Scott was obviously displeased, but smiled, shaking Solidarity's hand, "You too, Dary."

The man left to greet everyone else as Martyn and Ren walked towards Tango and Solidarity.

"Well damn, I like you." Martyn chuckled, whispering, "You sure know the rules of Scott's game."

Tango smiled innocently, "No idea what you're talking about."

Solidarity laughed, "Mar and I fake dated for awhile in hopes of Scott dropping the whole 'I'm hung up' shtick, and he's never acted like that."

"You got under his skin good." Ren complimented, the four looking at Scott, who was talking with Joel and Lizzie, "He's just going to step up his game."

"Good." Tango chuckled, "I hope so. Soli, how uncomfortable am I going to make everyone?"

"You have my complete consent to do whatever you want to do."

"Ohoho, that's dangerous, Love."

"It is for them, Light."

For the night, Tango stuck to Solidarity like glue, acting like the clingiest boyfriend in the world and Solidarity couldn't be happier with it. They mainly sat on the couch and talked with others, Scott moving to sit beside them occasionally. Because Solidarity was sitting against the arm rest and Tango was next to him, Scott simply sat on Tango's other side, even though he seemed a bit unhappy about it. The conversation flowed with people asking Solidarity how he was doing, if he would be visiting more, and asking Tango about his work, what he did, etc.

Scott would try to bring up something about an old date, but Tango would "accidentally" interrupt, telling a story about their first date or the time Solidarity taught Tango how to ice skate or the time Tango showed Solidarity a trick he knew on how to always win claw machines, even taking out his phone and gushing about the cat he and Solidarity adopted together that Solidarity named Norman.

"He loves naming animals human names, it's sooooooo cute!" Tango giggled before gasping, turning to look at Scott, "Oh, sorry, I hope you don't mind! I'm just so happy to finally meet everyone! I mean, Soli was so scared coming down here, thinking I wouldn't be accepted or fit in. I'm sure you've had to help him through an anxiety or panic attack before, right!"

Scott stared, "No, actually, I haven't."

"Oh, really?" Tango asked, faking confusion because he knew the answer.

"Wait, since when have you had anxiety, Solidarity?" Fwhip asked.

Gem elbowed him, "Dude. Not how you ask."

"It's cool Gem, I was only recently diagnosed so I don't blame him." Solidarity chuckled, smiling awkwardly before looking at Tango, "It was I think two months after I met you? So that's... what, two years?"

"That sounds about right." He looked at the rest of the group, smiling innocently, "He must've changed a lot since high school if no one noticed." He hummed, looking at Scott, "Poor thing was so nervous no one would like me! He was so scared no one would accept me because they all were hung up on you and your past relationship!" 

Scott narrowed his eyes a bit, Solidarity blushing as he let out a "T-Tango!"

Everyone laughed, either not noticing the slight accusation or choosing to ignore it, conversation continuing to flow. At one point, Solidarity had to use the bathroom, the man standing up to go. Tango playfully cried out an "Don't leave me!", the group continuing to laugh, talk, and joke.

"Oh, Tango, I have to ask-" Scott smiled innocently at the blonde, "-does Dary still get embarrassed over PDA? I swear, kissing him is like pulling teeth sometimes!"

"No, actually! He loves to share kisses with me! He's such a giver, it's adorable!" Tango giggled, smiling back innocently, "He's such a cuddler too, he's like a puppy sometimes!"

"I guess that makes sense. I was his first kiss after all, he was so embarrassed about it. I could hardly get him to stay still sometimes!" Scott had a sly smirk on his face, "Guess you can thank me for his confidence! He learned from the best!"

"Nah, it's thanks to me! After all-" He leaned towards Scott, whispering in his ear as he smirked, "-I was the first one to get him to spread his legs."

Scott blushed darkly, eyes widening.

"His entire body was red, he was so embarrassed the first time. But now? I can't keep up, half the time. You should see him on his knees, begging. He's so good at it. He really is like a dog." Tango pulled away, smiling innocently, "A good one! The best one!"

Before anyone could ask or say anything, Solidarity came back. He sat next to Tango, the blonde smirking at Scott. He grabbed the other's chin and pulled him in for a kiss, Solidarity kissing back with no hesitation, even wrapping an arm around his waist. When they pulled back, Tango leaned into him, Solidarity keeping his arm in it's place.

Solidarity laughed a bit, face turning red, "You're ridiculous!"

"You love it!"

Scott excused himself to the bathroom, Tango just smiling.

Eventually, dinner was done and everyone got their plates of food. Scott had come back and got his own food. Tango and Solidarity hadn't noticed that they had switched places (with Tango by the arm rest), so Scott sat beside Solidarity. The blonde went to move or say something, but Solidarity gave him an "it's fine" look and smile. Everyone sat around in the living room, talking, bouncing stories off each other, Tango excitedly listening to the stories of young Solidarity, who either blushed in embarrassment or yelled to "not tell that one!" They asked Tango and Solidarity questions about them and their relationship, what it was like living two hours away, if they had any plans to move back, overall having a good time. 

Until the alcohol was brought out.

Grian offered cups to everyone, Tango looking at Solidarity.

"You drink as much as you want, I'll drive." Solidarity reassured with a smile.

"Can you drive me too, then?" Scott asked, holding his own cup and beginning to gently draw shapes on his arm.

Solidarity stiffened, "I'm sure someone else can, Tango and I have to go in the opposite direction of your place."

"Awwww, you used to do it all the time when we would sneak alcohol." Scott chuckled, "Remember when we would steal my from my dad's stash? Grian caught us one time and was pissed!"

"Yeah, cause I thought Solidarity had never drank before, especially when you were both fifteen!" Grian teased.

Scott laughed, everyone did, but Solidarity and Tango. Tango held Solidarity's hand, rubbing circles in his palm to try and ground him as the other was stiff.

"Come on, I don't drink and drive and I left my car at home knowing about the alcohol! Are you gonna leave this power damsel all by himself?" Scott teased, drawing flower shapes on Solidarity's arm, "Will Tango not let you?" He accused, but said it in a teasing manner, everyone but Solidarity, Tango, Martyn, and Ren chuckling a bit.

The blonde could feel Solidarity tense up more. He smiled innocently, "Scott, why do you always ask Soli, are you still hung up on him?"

"H-Huh?! What, no, he-"

"Then I think it's weird how you always ask Soli." Tango said in the same teasing voice, though his accusation was more clear.

"He's right, Scott!" Martyn called, also having that teasing voice, "You know what, Ren can take us home! Ren's not allowed to drink outside our house!"

"It was one time!" Ren groaned playfully, both still trying to keep the playful energy, trying to ease the tension.

"One too many times!"

Solidarity was still stiff.

Tango spoke up, "Listen, if I convince him to take you home, will you promise we won't get a drunk call? Look how beautiful Soli is! He gets more pretty in his sleep and I can't have you ruining my eye candy!"

Scott flushed before he smiled, recovering with, "Come on, can't we share him? I mean, he already has me blocked because I make you uncomfortable, I just want to spend more time with him! He rarely visits nowadays!"

"Gee, I wonder why." Solidarity said, unable to mask his annoyance.

Tango stopped the teasing, looking at the other, "Soli-"

"What's wrong, Dary?" Scott asked, still tracing shapes on his arm.

Solidarity took a deep breath and retracted his arm, standing up, "Tango, get your things, we're leaving."

Tango stood up and grabbed his and Solidarity's things, seeing as Grian and Pearl stood up, trying to stop their brother, everyone else too stunned to move or say anything at the suddenness.

"Timmy, what's wrong?" "Nothing, I just want to leave-" "Come on Jim, it's Christmas, please stay!" "Both of you, move, I want to leave!" "You were never like this before, what the hell happened?!" "You know what happened!" "No we don't because you refuse to talk or visit us half the time!" "I've told you why, you just refuse to listen to me!"

Tango grabbed Solidarity's arm, pulling him past them, "Come on, Love, just look down, I'll drive-"

"Hold on, we're talking-"

"With all due respect, Grian, your brother is about to have a panic attack!" Tango glared, standing in front of Solidarity, protecting him as the other shook. Martyn and Ren climbed over the couch and tried to calm him down as Tango hissed, "I'm trying to get him away from people and in a safe place so he can calm down! So, if you'll excuse us-"

"Oh, and you know so much more about him than me, right?!" Grian glared, "You guys have been together for a year and yet you know more than his own brother?"

"Apparently, I do, he moved away for a reason!" The blonde hissed.

"You-!"

"Come on, Soli-" 

Pearl grabbed Solidarity's arm, "Guys, please just calm down! Jimmy, if you need a safe place, you can go in your old room and-"

"DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND I WANT TO LEAVE BECAUSE THIS WHOLE HOUSE FEELS UNSAFE?!" Solidarity screamed, facing Pearl, retracting his arm, "THIS ENTIRE HOUSE IS UNSAFE BECAUSE OF HIM!" He motioned to Scott.

"Dary, what-"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" The man faced the other, "I'VE ALREADY TOLD YOU COUNTLESS TIMES, I DON'T LIKE THAT NICKNAME! I DON'T LIKE ANYONE WHO ISN'T FAMILY OR MY PARTNER USING A NICKNAME! I'VE TOLD YOU THAT, OVER AND OVER AND OVER, AND I'VE TOLD YOU WHY, AND YOU REFUSE TO FUCKING LISTEN!"

"Hey, let's all just calm down!" Lizzie exclaimed, "Scott didn't do anything-"

"Shut up, Lizzie!" Solidarity growled.

"Woah, don't talk-"

"Shut up, Joel!" The dirty blonde repeated, motioning around the house, "THIS! This is why I don't come down here, this is exactly why! Everyone pushes my boundaries and then tells me to calm down, that I'm overreacting, that I'm being too sensitive, that I can't take a joke! So you know what?! FINE! I won't be back!"

"Solida-"

"NO! I'm tired of this, I'm tired of all this! I'm tired of being told I need to move on from Scott, that I need to let go of a grudge, that I need to just accept things, stuff that I have already done!" Solidarity looked at Scott, glaring, "I wish I never dated you if this is how you would react. Congrats, you've convinced everyone, including my own brother and sister, that I apparently am hung up on you! Despite the fact I have recorded voicemails of you crying, saying how you miss me, how you love me, how you wish we could go back to the way things were! Despite the fact I would pick you up so you didn't walk home drunk, and you tried to kiss me or make me stay the night! Despite the fact you would touch my arms and back and legs and I would not reciprocate, in fact, I would go stiff or tell you to stop, but you didn't care! Despite the fact I moved two hours away so I didn't have to deal with this! Yep, I'm still hung up on you! Tango is totally just a rebound and I am totally just waiting for you to confess your undying love for me so we can live happily ever after! Yep, that's exactly what I'm doing!"

He motioned towards the room, "And you all believe it! Let me tell you all the truth! Scott and I broke up amicably and I haven't looked back once! In fact, I blocked Scott, because I was uncomfortable, but Tango was gracious enough to take the fall because he knew the drama would stress me out!"

"Timmy, come on." Martyn gently pulled the other away, "You don't have to prove anything to anyone-"

"I-I am happy in my new relationship!" Solidarity whimpered, Tango hugging his arm as he was led out, "A relationship where I am respected, my feelings are considered, I can speak and not worry about if I say is the right or wrong thing, where I finally was able to grow a fucking spine! Unlike here, where I feel so shitty because you all make it seem like my comfortably doesn't matter." He was led to the door, "F-For future reference, if Scott is here, I'm not coming. If any of you try to make me apologize or try to reconcile, I will block you. I've been debating on doing this for months, but Tango thought I should give you all one more chance, see if you all have changed. Clearly, you haven't."

Solidarity was led to the car, getting in the passenger seat. Martyn and Tango calmed him down as Ren gathered his and Martyn's things. Once he was calm enough, Tango shut the door, thanking the two profusely. Martyn gave Tango his phone number, asking him to please just text or call him when they got home, Tango promising he would. Tango then got in the front seat and began to reverse, driving away. The dirty blonde gave him his phone, which was already beginning to blow up with texts and calls. Tango took it and shut it off. They sat in silence, the blonde holding Solidarity's hand as the other shook, tears streaming down his face.

"I'm proud of you." Tango reassured.

"...Thanks... You did really good... Not letting him get under your skin..." The dirty blonde shook, wiping his eyes, "I just couldn't, not when he began touching me..."

"I understand, Love."

"I'm s-"

"No need to apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. Boundaries are for you, not for anyone else." Tango looked at him, smiling, "You should be proud."

Solidarity smiled a bit, "Thank you." He whispered meekly.

The two sat in a comfortable silence, driving home.

AN: This was more of just a story of setting boundaries and me projecting onto my comfort characters. Hope you liked it even if it was more of a vent kinda?

#hermitcraft #empires smp #hermitshipping #empireshipping #jimmy solidarity #empires solidarity #solidaritygaming #empires jimmy #tangotek #hermitcraft tango #rancher duo #team rancher #tango #solitango

[avonne-writes]

YOU ARE A GENIUS. I’ve been reading the new chapters of Reverie as you update it, but it’s been a while since I’ve read the first few chapters. So I’m going back to reread from the beginning right now and am losing my mind over the parallels.

First of all, I forgot that the literal opening scene was Buck burning their dreamscape 😭 but we had NO idea what was coming.

Then, we’ve gone from “She'd always like his jokes and would never cry, because Bucky hated the sound of sniffling” to —> Buck sniffling being the best sound Bucky’s ever heard because it means he’s alive and breathing.

I’m sure I’m gonna find so many more of these tidbits as I continue my reread, so I’m very excited!! <3

Thank you so much, dear! ❤️ I'm glad you're rereading the beginning and finding all these connections with the later chapters. It made me really happy that you found them!

You can also see that I already talked about the possibility of the connection being shut down in the first chapter. Another parallel between chapter 1 and chapter 7 is their first time dreamwalking and their first time since Gale was shot down:

Chapter 1:

Bucky woke up immediately. Sitting up in his bed, he shivered as cold sweat dried on his neck. He tried to calm his erratic breathing while his mind was racing with the realization - he had dreamwalked. He did it! He had given up on it so long before that he couldn't believe that it finally happened. He had pushed into his soulmate's dream and found him. He had a soulmate! A spark of joy burst in his chest. He barked a laugh, felt it spread in his heart like honey. But a moment later, the feeling gave way to sudden, overwhelming disappointment.

Chapter 7:

Bucky wakes up with a gasp.

Around him, the night is gloomy and cold, but in his chest, a spark of joy bursts. He barks a laugh, feels it spread in his heart like honey. His soulmate isn’t dead. He’s okay, he’s alive, and he dreamwalked again. He tore that barrier down and came to Bucky. It’s like their first night, but no disappointment follows - only pure joy.

And Gale even references their very first time dreamwalking.

Chapter 1:

The boy stood up and gave him a once-over. He hummed. “I could take you in a fight.” That made Bucky laugh out loud. “Sure, buddy.” Something in his demeanor seemed to have put his soulmate more at ease. He smiled. “Are you gonna stick around this time?”

Chapter 7:

Tear tracks draw clean lines in the dirt on his face. Down from his red-rimmed eyes to the too-sharp, thin lines of his jaw, and his lip trembles. His blue eyes look like water when they meet Bucky's. “Are you gonna stick around this time?” He tries to joke, and Bucky huffs a wet laugh as he rushes to him and crashes into the circle of his waiting arms.

#mota #buck x bucky #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #anon #my writing #reverie #thank you dear!

[yacinthemorning]

Birdsongs

Chapter 7

[first] [prev] [next]

Summary: The Life Pilgrimage is the biggest music festival of the century, set to take place all across the continent. Small-time rock band, GIST, and the up-and-coming alternative band, Empire, are both lucky to be among the hundreds set to make appearances, but there's just one problem. Neither can afford the travel expenses on their own. For better or worse, they're stuck with each other for the next five weeks as they try to make their dreams come true.

And, perhaps, among the chaos and music, two unsuspecting souls find one another...

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic), Jimmy & Scott (platonic)

Warnings: Alcohol, drugs, verbal fights, theft, divorce talk

Jimmy was driver for the second day in a row.

Not that he minded. Actually, he’d discovered so far he quite liked driving, especially the trailer. It felt satisfying, the movements the vehicles made when he turned the wheel or pressed on the brakes. He caught a lot more of the scenery when he had to concentrate, also. Time just passed by faster, more peaceful. One of the few times of this trip he could stop thinking.

It was a bit funny really, because he’d waffled on acquiring his license until college, so he hadn’t gotten to drive much as a teen. Then he’d gotten together with Scott. It wasn’t something they talked about, but even when they drove Jimmy’s car the keys always ended up in Scott’s hands. After moving back in with Lizzie he’d sold his car to cushion himself. Joel was the sort of guy who refused to let anyone touch his baby, so more often than not he was driven around or carpooled. Really, the fact that Jimmy was even allowed to drive the trailer seemed wild to him, but he was glad he was.

Especially now, with everyone so quiet.

The trailer bounced on the uneven country road. There was a whistle-like squeak and a thunk. Joel groaned. Between the lights being off and the shade of the forest outside Jimmy didn’t bother trying to check on him. He took a deep breath of the morning air as it rushed past the open window, letting his hand hang against the outside of the door. There was a hum on his tongue, but he kept his mouth shut to avoid fratricide.

Another bounce, another whistle, another groan.

Shuffling footsteps slowly approached, and this time Jimmy did check the mirror. It was Tango, eyes still shut and using the walls to navigate his way up until he flopped down into the passenger seat. Jimmy smiled, “Mornin’, sunshine.”

Tango let out a grunt, head reclined and face pulled tight around his nose as he tried to adjust to the bright window. He flicked his red sunglasses out of his pocket before even daring to try opening his eyes. “What sort of mutant are you to be so perky this early?” He muttered, eyes squinted. They scanned about until they landed on the half-folded map across the dash, and snatched it up.

“One who had seven AM classes and never readjusted.” He shrugged.

“That’s such a lie.” Wheezed Lizzie from somewhere in the back. Jimmy could picture her wagging finger. “You’ve always gotten up at unholy hours and I know you know it.”

“Hey! You would have never made it to band practice all of grade eleven and twelve if it weren’t for me!”

“Twas you whom sealed my fate, oh retched inhuman beast.”

“A thank you would be fine, you know!”

Thump, whistle, groan.

Tango snickered. “Alright, so where’s the hospital?”

“Should be a few miles up the road in another town.” He reached over, tapping a red H located on the map. “Another ten minutes probably. There’s a Ricky’s across the street from it so we can meet there for breakfast and sort all our stuff back into the right vehicles.”

The mention of food elicited a happy chorus from the zombie horde. Jimmy smiled and reached over the console for his water bottle before pushing it into Tango’s face. “I refilled all the ones I could find before disconnecting the water.”

Tango blinked, eyes dilating at the speed of molasses as his brain clicked back into reality. “Look at you, thinkin’ of everything. What’d we do without you?” He grinned and took the bottle. Jimmy felt his cheeks warm, back straightening up as he turned his attention onto the road.

Thump, whistle, groan.

His hold on the wheel tightened. “Well, all the responsible people are at the hospital, so someone has to do it.”

“I’m not sure going to the ER ‘cause of a bar brawl screams responsible.”

The bottle clunked back into the console, Tango scooting forward in his seat to lean his head back. Not on Jimmy’s watch. “Says the man without a seatbelt on.” He said, then cringed. It sounded so much more obnoxious when he said it aloud. If it bothered Tango he didn’t show it, fumbling for the belt with one hand and eyes closed.

“Ah well, stuff like this is gonna happen.” Tango said. “Better to get it out of our systems early, right? It’s all smooth sailing now.”

“Are you trying to dare the devil or something?” Joel interjected from his seat, giving voice to Jimmy’s thoughts.

But Tango waved him off, “What? That’s how you’re supposed to do it. Go wild the first little bit so everything after feels like a walk in the park! That’s how we’ve always done things, shakes off the nerves.”

Jimmy wasn’t so sure that’s how it worked, but he certainly hoped it was. As much fun as last night had been, it was probably for the best it was behind them.

A sign flashed by, almost too fast, telling Jimmy it was finally their turn off the freeway. Trees gave way to a town that was more of a giant truck stop, uncomfortably sparse with everything paved over, and enormous signs advertising fast food joints and gas prices heads above the tallest building. Actual homes were scattered further out in the hills or awkwardly dotted among the half-empty parking lots, their picket fences and old shingles all that was left of when the town must have been much quainter.

Their bandmates were already waiting for them outside the hospital, and five minutes later they were piling into Ricky’s for brunch. Judging from its proximity to the hospital and the fact that Jimmy could recognize several faces at the other tables, it probably wasn’t a surprised the waitress didn’t question why they all smelled worse than they looked. Scott managed to escape with only a split lip and bruise under his eye, his stitches being for a long cut up his forearm. Fwhip was not as lucky. Gem was already busy making fun of the man who looked like he’d been one with the bar floor mid-brawl. She was one to talk, given the black eye she sported. Jimmy was pretty sure he saw her nearly bite someone’s ear off, though, so he abstained from interrupting her.

With ten people their orders came in rounds. First came Pearl’s omelette with the works alongside Scott’s bennies and Skizz’s ridiculously huge grand breakfast that seemed to be three of everything. It was less ridiculous when Jimmy realized he was sharing with Impulse. Then came Gem’s clubhouse, Fwhip’s chicken tenders, and Lizzie’s fish and chips. After that was Joel’s bacon cheddar burger, and finally-

“Here you are, buttermilk pancakes.” The waitress announce cheerfully as she slipped one plate in front of Jimmy and another in front of Tango, placing a single plate with butter, strawberries, and maple syrup between them. Or, rather, directly in front of Joel, who was sat in the middle of them and giving Jimmy the most unimpressed look. It was his fault for insisting on sitting across from Lizzie instead of beside her.

Tango snatched up the butter, seemingly unsatisfied with the single square already atop it. In the process he all but pushed the strawberries onto Jimmy’s plate. More than fine by Jimmy. “So, Miss Manager, what’s the verdict on getting to the venue today?” He asked, giving Jimmy a thankful grin when he was passed the syrup that made Joel pretend to shove his knife down his throat to gag. Jimmy knocked his leg.

Pearl hummed until she could swallow. “Should still be able to make it if we just keep going, maybe ten or eleven?”

Just shy of twelve hours with breaks and dinner. “Y’okay to drive that long on your own?” Piped up Impulse, the only other person without a headache or head wound.

Jimmy nodded, “Think so.” He frowned, looking the man up and down. “Um, would you prefer to switch?” It may have been Impulse’s car, but it was still cramped compared to the trailer. Impulse waved him off, though.

“We need more buns and salad before we go.” Chimed Gem.

Skizz balked. “What? What happened to the tub of macaroni salad?”

“Someone left it out.”

“Hey, don’t look at me. I hate that stuff!”

“Sounds exactly like something someone who left it out would say.”

“Why does it matter? You didn’t have to throw it out, one night wouldn’t hurt it.”

“Um, ew? It absolutely would!”

“Yeah, I gotta agree, it’s pretty nasty...”

Joel smacked the syrup right out of Tango’s hand as he passed it over the shorter man’s head. It clattered to the table, rolling off into Jimmy’s lap. “Joel!” He shrieked, pushing up out of his chair. The case hooked over the back of his chair clattered loudly to the ground, wringing winces from those around him. Both his shirt and jeans were coated in sugar. Everyone paused in their arguments to watch Jimmy squirm in his own skin. The whole restaurant was, actually. Jimmy’s face turned beet red, grabbing a napkin to try and at least wipe down his arms, but the thin paper just curled and tore and created a worse mess. Joel just laughed.

“Here, dampen it.” At the very least Pearl tried to help, dabbing another napkin into an untouched glass of water, but it didn’t help much.

He sighed in resignation, and began to pick up his poor guitar. It was a delicate process not to get it coated as well. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“We should find somewhere to do laundry, too.” He heard Scott say behind him. “Some of you have been wearing the same clothes for a few days now and you can smell it.”

Several individuals protest, all people Jimmy knew for certain qualified for that statement. He hurried along before he could get caught in the crossfire.

-

The dryers were taking their damn time.

Tango chalked it up to the things looking about thirty years old and beaten to crap by who-knows-who.

The washers rumbled under him, eyes glued to the ever spinning clothes. Goosebumps ran up his arms from the air conditioning, a constant reminder he was stuck in his undershirts and shorts. His own fault for throwing all his clothes into simultaneous loads. There was the softest tune under the hum of machines emanating from a portable radio in the staff booth echoed by his bass. He’d taken a page out of Jimmy’s book and brought it in with him. Of course, he wasn’t about to plug the thing in, lest the ancient temple’s Edwardian era wiring explodificate and leave them with nothing but wet clothes and sadness. That didn’t mean he couldn’t strum along to the Steve Miller Band while longingly watching the concrete outside bake.

“How does he do that?”

Tango let out a screech like a shot seagull, almost falling off the washer. When had Jimmy and Gem gotten here? How long had he spaced out? The two weren’t even paying Tango any attention while Jimmy slipped his case off his shoulder and popped it open. Gem dropped a grocery bag and hopped up on the washer beside him, enclosing the tallest between her and Tango, while he organized his fingers along the strings. “What?” Tango finally asked, grabbing the two’s attention.

“That little- like, the cat call.” He muttered, mimicking the whistle. Hands absently adjusted to what he thought might be the proper notes.

Gem reached out and adjusted his ring finger. “I’m pretty sure it’s that, then you just sorta...” She pulled away, air-guitaring the motion for him to copy. He did so, but without being plugged in it was hard to tell if he’d gotten it for certain.

Tango’s eyes followed the movement of his left hand. Theoretical tones played along in his brain. Too stiff. He scooted around until he was facing them. “Here.” He called for their attention. When Jimmy’s curios gaze shifted from Tango to his bass Tango showed his own attempt at the segment. One he’d done long ago but not since. Both guitarists had their eyes glued to his hands, making him second guess every single choice he’d ever made in life that put him here, thinking he could teach other people how to play their own instruments while in his skivvies in public.

They foolishly mimicked him anyways, pleased with whatever popped up in their own mind’s eye. Tango went back to strumming along with the actual bass. Gem happily jumped in as well. “I’m a joker, I’m a smoker, I’m a midnight toker, I get my lovin’ on the run,” she sang, too pretty. Jimmy quickly picked up after them on the guitar after a stumble in the first notes. Something Tango was beginning to suspect he was incapable of not doing. For someone who spent his time on stage just setting the beat, Tango thought Jimmy handled the solo better than expected. The lazy guitar was well out of his comfort zone, though, his movements still stiff.

Both men half-heartedly joined Gem’s singing as the song came to an end, her hands slapping the lid of the machines as some type of drum. Tango’s nose began to itch. The song faded out and the channel host piped up. At the same moment the machine Tango sat on ended its cycle, buzzing at him. All of it was drowned out by the loudest sneeze Tango had ever suffered, the force of which was enough to knock him right off his precarious perch. Enough to scare his companions.

“I think Skizz’s grandma heard that!” Gem laughed.

But Jimmy frowned, “Do you need a sweater?”

“S’in the dryer still.” He sniffled, trying to keep his eyes from watering.

That didn’t deter the guitarist, who went for their laundry bag, then stumbled outside towards the trailer when he didn’t find what he was looking for. Tango wondered if he even noticed he still had his guitar around his neck, case abandoned. Another machine buzzed, this time a dryer.

“He’s definitely going to bump off the doorway.” Gem whispered. On cue, Both ends of Jimmy’s poor guitar slammed into either side of the trailer, almost throwing Jimmy to the ground. He stood there, confused, before he hugged his guitar to his shoulder and went in sideways. Tango raised an amused eyebrow towards Gem, who was trying not to laugh too loud. “Oh, silly Jimmy.”

“Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same.” Tango tried to defend even as he also began to giggle. He absently grabbed for the laundry bag and yanked open the dryer. The warmth soaked into his skin.

Gem rolled her eyes and sent him a pointed, unimpressed look. “That’s ‘cause you’re also a silly goose.”

“Guilty as charged.” He couldn’t exactly defend himself on that one. So, he changed the subject. “You two play well together.”

There was a hum Tango thought might have been agreement. “We picked up guitar around the same time, so we learned together from my mum.”

He’d heard it before. How Gem had gone from only wanting to sing as a kid to feeling embarrassed it was all she could do in her teens. Nothing wrong with expanding your horizons, he had told her. As often as Tango experimented with new instruments he always wandered back to his bass.

“You were part of Empire, then?” He asked.

Gem shrugged, “Not really? I mean, we played together and Lizzie and Scott were writing some songs, but the band didn’t really exist yet. They talked about it a lot but I don’t know, guess I knew from the start I wouldn’t end up playing with them.” She grinned, “I have way more fun with you guys, anyways!”

Maybe it was just his imagination guilt tripping him, but it felt like there was something almost determined and a bit desperate in her last statement. He looked away. “It’s been fun playing with you too, Glitter Girl.”

The door creaked open, and Jimmy tripped through it. One hand held his guitar flush to his chest, while the other was wrangling a familiar blanket that had been rapidly unfolding itself. “I couldn’t- Scott wouldn’t let me mess with the clothes he already folded, but...”

“Thanks, partner.” Tango smiled, letting the man throw it over Tango’s shoulders like a cape. He didn’t bother to mention that he now had access to several pieces of his own clothes. It couldn’t hurt to wait for the second load. What was he going to do, suddenly be even more embarrassed than he already was? Besides, the blanket had trapped its fair share of warmth from the dryer, and Tango was very quickly sinking deeper into it.

 Jimmy’s smile was shy, cheeks just slightly rosy, before he turned towards his guitar case. Leaned out of the way, Tango got a clear view of Gem once more, who had her clasped hands to her cheek and was making kissy faces at Tango. Like the responsible adult he was he stuck his tongue out at her. She giggled. Well, at least he had company now.

-

It was ten to eleven when they rolled into the next venue. They were lucky to do so, as check in would close for the day after eleven. The very grumpy and tired staffer was particularly adamant on reminding them of that fact through the entire process. They made it, though, and they parked in their place. A gravel lot used for parking, with no room for much else between vehicles. Worse yet, there was separate designated spaces for cars and trailers, so the car wound up a quarter of a mile away. It all sucked, to be frank, but it also didn’t matter. Everyone was too tired and too excited to care. Everyone except Scott, at least, who was already preparing a speech that would make whatever poor worker he would confront tomorrow morning about these inconveniences wish they were never born.

For the rest of them, though, it was bed time.

By this point in their journey, Jimmy had become used to waking up wrapped around Tango. It was cold at night and the man was practically a furnace, sue him. The sun had yet to rise, but there was a subtle thumping from the bathroom before Scott walked out, sans makeup or patience. His exhausted glare landed on Jimmy and warped into a raised eyebrow. Jimmy’s face turned pink, rolling over and burying it into Tango’s hair. No confrontation came of it, only a snort. Still, he waited until the door rattled close. Someone else in the trailer groaned, but no one got up.

After a long moment of debate, Jimmy decided to begrudgingly get up. Someone should make breakfast, and he was on a usefulness streak lately. When he sat up, though, Tango’s face scrunched and he was pulled in tighter. Jimmy muffled a snort, “I’m not your teddybear, you know.” he murmured to the sleeping man. A pillow seemed to suffice as a replacement for Tango. It did not do so for Jimmy himself, who was now surrounded by freezing morning air and clinging to his equally cold guitar. Right, sweater first, then teeth.

Ten minutes later Jimmy made it out of the trailer without waking anyone else. Scott was, predictably, nowhere to be seen. Whoever their neighbour was to be had yet to arrive, so Jimmy got to work pulling out the folding table.

The smell of coffee woke someone up. Jimmy was halfway through setting up chairs when something inside slammed against the wall. That, or someone went face first into the bathroom door. Pearl’s face poked out the door, hair still twirled up in a braid and a sheepish smile on her face. “How’s it going out here?” She half-whispered.

“Was about to mix up scrambled eggs.” He explained, motioning towards the table. Milk, cheese, and the whole carton of eggs patiently waited next to an unopened tray of breakfast sausages and bag of hash browns. “We got some miniwheats if you want something now, though.”

“I can wait.” She flopped down into one of the folding chairs, next to the one Jimmy’s guitar was leaned in. He threw her an orange juice at the very least. “So, where’d Scott run off to?”

Jimmy tilted his head, frowning. Not that he was an expert, but that was most certainly not Pearl’s usual tone. She was focused on getting the straw into her juice box when he looked to her, though. Was he still half asleep? “He’s-”

“Right here.”

Now that tone Jimmy was an expert in. Tired, cranky, and done with everything, but, like, while still covered in glitter and a spotlight. There was no way to tell if he was actually enraged or just wanted to put on a show. Either way, Jimmy counted down with perfect timing to Scott’s hand slamming against the table and letting out the world’s longest sigh. “The organizers at this venue are absolutely incompetent.” He whined, head lulling dramatically as though he’d been shot. A show it was.

“Oh really? How so?” Pearl indulged.

“Well, by not even being awake yet, for one.”

“It’s six AM, mate. Give ‘em at least until eight, there’s like five people here at this point.”

Scott pouted, glancing off into the distance as if he was really considering it until he huffed. “I’m awake now, though, and I want to give them a piece of my mind.”

“A piece, or the whole pie.” Jimmy teased, pointing the whisk at him before turning towards the eggs.

There was a gasp, “Jimmy! Of course not.” There was an odd quiet moment that followed. One that had Jimmy worried until he heard the hash brown bag shake. His head shot up in time to watch Scott place the frozen bag back into the cooler.

“Hey!”

“They’ll thaw.” Was his only explanation before he went to sit down.

Jimmy’s nose scrunched up in annoyance. “They’re just hash browns, it’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t want to have to buy a whole new bag like the salad.”

Another protest almost left his lips, but they clamped shut as he watched Scott run his hands over his face. Bags under his eyes and bruises all over his arms still. You said it yourself, it’s just hash browns, not a big deal. He went back to preparing the egg mixture and setting the table, waiting for more folks to awaken. If Scott needed to stick his nose in things to get over his mood it wasn’t his business.

Pearl had much stronger words for him from what Jimmy could make out from her tone, though too quiet to catch much of what it was. Given he heard something about punching Jimmy guessed it was about the bar still. He snorted, good luck with that. Scott had always been a messy drunk, like one of those toy cars. The tighter he wound during the day the worse it was when he let go. Something people had to learn on their own, he supposed.

Some time later Impulse and skizz tumbled out of the trailer, perkier than any of them, and Jimmy was finally allowed to pull the hash browns out of the cooler.

Jimmy was sitting with his chin up on his guitar when Tango stumbled out, last of the whole bunch and clinging to the pillow Jimmy had left him with like a lost child. He caught sight of Jimmy and beamed a toothy grin his way even as he shivered like a leaf in the cold morning air. Whatever was left of Jimmy’s earlier sour mood flew away. “Anything left for me?” He asked.

Skizz answered, putting sombre hands on the sleepy man’s shoulders. “You know what they say, Top. Early bird gets the worm. I’m afraid you’ll have to starve.”

“I made you a plate already.” Jimmy announced, pulling the pot lid off the plate sat behind him and holding it out. “You’ll have to make the toast, though, if you want any.”

A smug little noise left Tango along with a matching look towards Skizz, “Thank you, and that I do.” He then turned to the toaster and spun the dial all the way up to charcoal levels. That, Jimmy mused, was a practice he could never get behind. But to each their own, he supposed.

Then something whistled.

There was no thump.

And others paused.

“Okay, what is that?” Joel hissed as he approached the tires. “There a leak?”

“Never heard a leak sound like that.” Impulse chimed in with concern and joined him. Jimmy pulled his case closer.

Another whistle. Another no thump.

That one had Pearl, Scott, and Skizz all joining in the search for the defect. Lizzie worried the hem of her shirt. “Oh gosh we only just got to the second venue. I hope nothing’s broken.”

“You okay?” Tango asked, and it took Jimmy a moment to realize it was directed at him. He shrugged back and buried his face in his case.

“It’s from in here!” Skizz called out. The storage lock clicked open. “Kinda sounds like- WOAH, HEY!”

The whistle turned into a frantic flurry of chirps and rattles. Someone nearby gasped.

“What in the world-”

“Is that a bloody bird?”

“Oh my god!”

“Stop! Don’t open it!”

“Who would...”

“Put it down, put it down!”

Metal clanged against the gravel lot. Jimmy finally peeled himself apart enough to peek out at the scene. Most of the two bands were surrounding a painted cage, where a little yellow bird was flitting about in a panic. Instantly three sets of eyes turned onto him instead. Lizzie, Joel, and Scott.

“Jimmy.” Scott said with great strain.

Jimmy shrunk away, face twisted. “What?”

“I couldn’t help notice you don’t seem all that surprised.”

“Wait a minute, I’ve seen this before.” Skizz interrupted them both, kneeling down next to the cage. “There was something just like this in a house next to the park.”

Lizzie’s hands went to her hips. “James Solidarity, did you steal a bird? Don’t you lie to me!”

“No!” He lied.

Joel’s hands went to his hair, a humourless laugh escaping. “Dude, what the heck, you didn’t even drink! Why did you steal a bird?”

“I don’t know!” He curled his whole body around his guitar. “I was just- everything was really exciting and- look, I’m not the one who got stabbed with a broken bottle!”

“Uh, this ain’t about me right now, dude.” Fwhip muttered, though he nudged out of the circle to hide behind his bandmates.

While his own bandmates continued shouting GIST stood to their own side, caught between shock and amusement. At least Impulse and Gem seemed shocked. Tango was doubled over, cackling like a madman, while Skizz tried to hide his giggles and failed miserably. “Oh this is too good.” He said. Pearl had her own hand over her mouth, impossible to tell what his emotions were except from the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes. None seemed angry. It made Jimmy feel much better, if he could only block out the yelling from his peers.

He launched forward, spurred on by a new wave of confidence, “Look, I know it was stupid-”

“Stupid barely begins to cover it.” Scott drawled, rolling his eyes. “What are we supposed to do, now? We can’t just bring it back, we’re on a schedule. And what if someone saw you? Did you think this through at all?” His foot was going against the gravel, letting Jimmy know how close he was to the end of the fiddler’s nerves. For once it only put more coals on the fire. It was Scott’s fault in the first place for his own stress, he had no right to put it on Jimmy like he was the only one who did something stupid in the last few days.

No, it was entirely unfair. “Everyone’s made a fool of themselves, why are you singling me out?”

Scott gaped. Wrong answer. “Because there is currently a fucking bird in our trailer right now! That you stole and that I’m going to have to clean up!” He snapped, throwing his hands at the cage and then at Jimmy. “Why are you always like this!”

Everyone quieted. GIST’s giggles died while Empire’s various reactions all settled into concern. The indignation had fizzled out from Jimmy’s heart as well, leaving him stubbornly silent as his face heated. Scott’s chest heaved, glaring Jimmy down and oh, if looks could kill he’d be nothing but minced meat ground deep into the mud. It’s about what he felt like in that moment.

Fwhip was the first to dare break the silence, placing a hand on Scott’s shoulder that was promptly thrown off. “Hey, it’s fine. I’ll just take the car and bring the bird back.”

“No, you won’t.” Scott hissed. He tore a lighter out of his pocket. “You need to be here to sell our CDs and manage contacts while we’re performing, and you can’t do that if you’re busy a day’s drive away searching for the owner on your own, because Skizz and Jimmy are not going back with you.” As he rambled his grip shook and the cigarette he fumbled with snapped in half. It was thrown to the ground, “Fuck’s sakes...”

“Hey, buddy, calm down.” Tango interjected. He was silenced with a single side eye, but Pearl took his place.

“Look, this is entirely fixable. If Fwhip can’t go then I will, and if not we’ll find another solution. It’s not the end of the world.”

If Scott heard her he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead he stomped off towards a neon green trailer down the way, leaving the group caught in the awkward atmosphere. When some of the eyes turned to Jimmy he took up examining the gravel under his own feet.

“Well, that... was a lot.” Impulse chuckled.

Tango snorted. “A lot of bullshit.”

“Tango!”

“What? It’s true!”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s come over him.” So started Fwhip’s apologizing, rambling on explanations to avoid their bands’ collective embarrassment. Jimmy could still feel his blood simultaneously boiling and frozen in his veins and did not bother to contribute.

A delicate hand landed on his arm, Lizzie’s eyes wide and glossy. “Are you okay, Jim?”

He shook off the touch and went to grab the cage, and bolted for the door. The moment it shuttered behind him muffled conversation picked up outside, audibly tense. Instead, he put the bird down on the counter, crawled into the safety of bed, and pulled his case into his lap. The leather was cold against his forehead, cooling his quick breaths before they buffeted back against his throat.

This was inevitable. They all knew it, it wasn’t like five whole adults were completely oblivious to the winding key that had been tightening since the start of this trip. Since the divorce, really. Or maybe before. Probably before. It still hurt.

Free from the dark the bird began to chatter. What seemed so soothing days ago grated against the last shreds of Jimmy’s composure. “Shut up.” He tried to snap but it came out more like begging. Of course, he canary had no idea. The chirps continued on. He thought he might be able to feel them scraping against his brain. It was probably thirsty and hungry, the kinder part of him reminded. He didn’t want to be kind right now, though. It was all he could do not to find something to throw at the cage.

The door shook. Jimmy didn’t look up, but he recognized the sound of heavy steel-toe boots by now. There was the smallest sound of a breath catching, but no words followed. Instead the bird cage rattled, agitating both the canary and Jimmy. “Here, find some food for it or something.” The bassist whispered to someone before the canary’s cries became distant. Jimmy knew from the way the trailer tipped that Tango had not left with it, but nor had he entered further than needed to close the door. He was probably waiting for some sign from Jimmy, whether to go away or not. Not a question Jimmy was sure he had an answer to quite yet.

“You want breakfast?” Tango asked instead.

Jimmy wanted to say no, but his stomach protest. He shrugged. The trailer shook and a box thunked against the counter. At first he assumed Tango was pouring cereal until he heard the faucet and something scraping. That was apparently enough to get Jimmy to peek. Butter hit the frying pan, and he watched half-baffled, half-fascinated, as Tango poured batter into it soon after.

Cooking took only a few minutes. Really, with the instant mix it was amazing how quickly it could go. Inevitably, the fire alarm went off, startling both of them. Tango grumbled and hissed while waving a towel around. It didn’t take long, but just long enough for Jimmy to loosen the tight ball he’d pulled himself into. Giant boots still on, Tango sat down on the bed next to Jimmy and handed him the pancakes past his guitar.

They sat in silence through the first half, Jimmy slowly shovelling bites that were a bit too big into his mouth while Tango looked at everything but him. Eventually, though, the guitarist remembered his manners. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Tango assured, even though it certainly was.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said instead.

It got a shrug and a shift to a more comfortable position on the bed, accepting the silent invitation. “Every bands’ been there. Can’t tell you how many times me and Skizz have yelled at each other.”

“But not like that.” Guessed Jimmy, which from the look on Tango’s face he was right. He sighed and set his plate aside. “He’s never yelled at me before.”

“Really?” There was a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“Yes.” Jimmy shut down immediately, though his full reply took another moment to gather his thoughts. “Silent treatment, passive aggressive comments, but we’ve never yelling. Not seriously. Never had a fight.”

“Nothing at all?”

He paused. In the grand scheme of things, Tango was still a stranger. All of GIST except Gem were, really. Having someone new to talk to was great, and Jimmy wasn’t clever enough to deny his growing fondness for Tango, but he was still mostly a stranger. One who didn’t need dragging into their band’s silly interpersonal drama. Maybe, though, that Pandora ’s Box was already ripped wide open, given the incident that just occurred. If they were going to be stuck with it for the next month they at least deserved to know a bit more.

Or maybe Jimmy was just looking for an excuse to let it all out on some poor guy who was a bit too nice to him. His tongue made the choice for him, beginning to spill out the story before he thought anymore about it. “You know there wasn’t a fight even at the end?”

Tango perked up, attention fully turning on him now with a sombre expression.

“I just- there never was. I remember thinking now and then about what getting a divorce might take. Scott’s the one who organized all the marriage stuff. There’s probably something poetic in there or something.” He let out a humourless laugh. “But, one day I just sort of... did it. Nothing happened. Normal day. I just called up and asked after work, and then I had the paperwork in my hands.”

He could picture the scene quite clearly, not from that specific day but from how many times he walked through that side door. The teal paint that was beginning to chip, the colourful fish themed wind chime, the tall trashcan he always caught his jacket on no matter how many times he passed it. “Scott was sitting at the table writing a song or something. I put them down beside him and asked if he could sign them. Think he already knew, not like I do much paperwork stuff. He didn’t say anything, though. Just read it like I was handing him a flyer or anything else. I don’t know if he really was fine with all it said, it was pretty heavy in his favour since I was the one with family nearby and the house and car were his to start. But he signed it. Four minutes of reading and he just signs it and hands it back.”

“After that was like the most normal conversation in the world, too. Asked when I wanted to move out, when he should call Joel and Lizzie to come over, if I had boxes yet.” And Jimmy had replied much the same back. Of course, he knew what was going on in his own head at the time. A whole lot of nothing and everything all at once that made the rest of the day pass in a blur until he was in the spare room at Lizzie’s. It took a day before he finally had his first breakdown over it, and of course it had to be at the dinner table in front of both his sister and brother-in-law. “We didn’t see each other for two weeks, and then we were back in his studio, practising for a gig that was coming up. It was like none of it ever happened. Talked about it one more time, wrote a song about it as you do, just to get it out of our system. Peachy after that.”

“That’s a lot to just sweep under the rug.” Tango finally interjected, brow pressed into a stressed line. Saying it out loud, Jimmy understood. The whole thing was ridiculous.

He leaned back, letting his guitar fall off beside him. “But we never yelled at each other.”

A particular loose thread in the blanket had captured Tango’s attention at some point, long enough for his finger to have gotten under the weave and pulled it further. He’d turned his full awareness onto it now, unlooping his finger and trying to smooth it out despite how long gone it was. Jimmy began to think maybe Tango wasn’t the person he should be talking to about this, that it should be Lizzie, or maybe some random person in a bar. Someone who wasn’t straddling the line, unquestionably on Jimmy’s side of things.

He had the sudden urge to assure that Scott was a great guy, it was both their fault things fell apart, that he was normally kind and funny. Anything that might leave Tango with a better impression than yelling and binning a seven year relationship and three year marriage without a fuss. It didn’t make it out of his head though, past the fog of annoyance that stubbornly clung to him. Deep down he knew he wanted Tango to join him in being spiteful and angry, some sort of external assurance it was okay. Either side being validated would make him just feel like crap.

Yeah, he definitely shouldn’t have chosen Tango to talk to. He was going to blame the pancakes, who wouldn’t blab after that?

It took him a moment to register Tango was speaking again, after an eternity of silence. “You wrote a song about it?”

Jimmy shrugged, patted his case. “Quick thing in like twenty minutes. Fixed it up here and there, but it’s still pretty awful. Bunch of self-indulgent metaphors and stuff.” Scott had joked, once, that it was an example of why he and Lizzie were the lyricists and Jimmy just played guitar.

“Do you play it?”

“Just with each other.” In fact, he could count on his hands the number of times they’d played it. “Whenever things get a bit tense. Don’t think either of us brought our copy along.”

“Does it help?”

At that Jimmy had to pause. Did it? Sometimes. It helped them get back into the groove of working together in the band, reminded Jimmy they weren’t just husbands, but friends and bandmates. It probably wasn’t what they needed specifically, but it did something. So, he replied, “Yeah.”

“That’s good.” Tango said genuinely. “Maybe you guys should do that then? I don’t know, sorry, I’m not very good at this sorta thing.”

He laughed. “No, you aren’t. I thought you were going somewhere with that.”

“Listen, I’m trying!” Tango threw his hands up. “I mean if I were you I woulda knocked the guys’ teeth out, got the daylights knocked outta me back, and never showed my face again. I might still do that anyways, who knows.”

“Aw, don’t do that, I’d miss you.” Jimmy bumped his shoulder into the others, trying hard not to keep giggling.

A smirk stretched across Tango’s face, eyebrows jumping up to where Jimmy worried about the piercings in them pulling at the skin. “Oh is that the part wrong with that? Maybe you aren’t as forgiving a guy as you seem.”

“Nope, I’m an angel.”

“I’d believe it.” Tango got up. “Point is, I talk a lot and don’t say much. You two seem to have a lot to say, though, that you don’t like talking about. Can’t be to good for your noggins. Or your music.”

Jimmy sighed, and accepted the hand held out towards him that pulled him up out of bed. “No, probably not. I wouldn’t know where to start, though.”

“That one is definitely outta my pay grade. You’ll have to upgrade to Skizz or something. I’m just bozo over here.”

As he said it he reached up and squeezed his own nose, making a strange noise that took Jimmy far too long to realize was supposed to be honking. He barked, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh my gosh, what was that?”

“Hey! Don’t laugh at my joke!”

Jimmy burst, doubling over.

The door opened, interrupting their laughter. Joel poked his head in, looking wary only for a moment before he got a good look at Jimmy and his shoulders visibly dropped. “You guys okay in here?” He asked anyways.

“Think so?” Tango replied, gaze darting back to Jimmy, who nodded.

“That’s good. Couple of us were going to go get a look at the stages while Pearl talked to the organizers. You feeling up to coming along, Jim?”

He suddenly became painfully aware of how cramped and stuffy the trailer was, now that everything seemed lighter. “Yeah, okay.”

They were filing out when, “Oh, hey, Jimmy?”

Jimmy turned, watching as Tango’s hand hooked around the strap of Jimmy’s guitar case and lifted it up off the bed, holding it out towards him in question. A hand flew to Jimmy’s shoulder, and he blinked. “Thanks.” He muttered, taking the guitar and throwing it back into its usual place. It never felt so light.

Tango grinned, and slapped him on the back. “Alright, let’s go!”

#solidaritek #team rancher #jimmy solidarity #tangotek #scott smajor #geminitay #mcyt #trafficshipping #traffic series #fanfic #fanfiction #modern au #hurt/comfort #sharing a slice of cake

[babygirl-diaz]

helllooooo i saw that omega tommy anon and 👀 imagine alpha!buck looking for his "missing" lafd hoodie and discovering that omega!tommy used it to make a nest at his place jdjdksnxv

Okay, this is literally the cutest prompt ever and I absolutely love it. Hope you like the story, anon!

***

"Hey, have you seen my hoodie?" Buck asked browsing through his locker.

"No? Why would I see your hoodie?" Eddie asked closing his own locker. "Besides, what do you even need a hoodie for? It's like 75 outside."

"I don't know," Buck shrugged. "It's my comfort hoodie and I need a bit of comfort right now."

"Comfort? Why? What happened?" Eddie asked taking a seat on the bench and leaving space for Buck.

"So you know how I've been trying to court Tommy?" Buck asked shyly and scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah, I think everyone knows that, Buck," Eddie replied, giving him a pointed look and a smirk played on the edge of his lips.

"Wait what? What do you mean everyone knows that?" Buck asked horrified.

"That's not the point," Eddie replied. "Why are you upset?"

Buck let out a deep breath. "it's just not working. Either Tommy is playing hard to get or he is genuinely not interested and I am afraid it's the latter."

"I doubt that," Eddie replied. "Look, us omegas- we- we like it when the alpha puts in the effort and chases after us. The courting phase is the best part."

"Did uh- Did Shannon court you? You don't have to answer that if you're not comfortable!" Buck quickly added to let Eddie know it was a no-pressure question.

"She did, yeah," Eddie replied sadly. "But we were kids so it didn't take her a lot to court me."

"What you're saying is that I have to put in more effort?" Buck asked.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Eddie replied and put a hand on his shoulder. "Just show him you can be trusted to stick around and be there for him. Make him feel protected and loved."

Buck got up and smiled at his best friend. "Thanks, Eddie. Listen, I hope you find your alpha too."

"Thanks, Buck, but I'm not looking," Eddie replied with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I am happy as I am."

Buck nodded and took out his phone. "Tommy hasn't messaged me today. Do you think I should check on him?"

Eddie chuckled and shook his head. "You just wanna see him."

"I do," Buck replied shyly. "I really do." He then cleared his throat as he added, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Eddie!"

With that, he practically ran out of the firehouse and got into his Jeep. He texted Tommy again but got no response. His worry only increased and he headed towards the omega's house. When he got there, he rang the doorbell and waited.

Tommy didn't answer, and that's when Buck started to panic. Tommy's truck was still in the driveway, so he was at home and hurt or he was kidnapped. There was no other explanation. Well, there was. There was also the possibility that Tommy didn't want to see him but Buck wasn't ready to entertain that thought.

Buck called Tommy while still standing outside his house and he answered the second time.

"Evan?" Tommy sounded a little annoyed.

"Where are you?" Buck asked. "I am standing outside your house, ringing the doorbell, but you won't answer."

"I was asleep," Tommy replied and paused for a second before saying, "I'll be right there."

Buck impatiently tapped his foot as he waited for Tommy and soon the door opened. Tommy looked like he had gone through a couple rounds with an alligator and lost. Okay, so maybe not the best analogy but he just looked worse for wear. Not that Buck was about to tell him that. He was trying to court the guy, not chase him away.

"What?" Tommy asked, pulling his robe even closer to himself.

"Nothing," Buck shook his head. "Sorry- I just- I was worried about you. Are you okay?"

Tommy shrugged. "I guess."

There was something in the air. Some kinda sweet smell that followed Tommy. That coupled with how tired he looked, Buck understood what was going on. "You're in pre-heat."

"I am," Tommy replied after a pause. "And I'd rather not prematurely go into an actual heat with your presence."

"You think I could send you into a heat?" Buck couldn't help but smirk at that.

"Any alpha could," Tommy was quick to shoot him down, which made Buck pout.

"Can I come in?" Buck asked.

Tommy didn't move at first. It looked like he was contemplating. "Fine, but I'm going back to my nest."

"Are you inviting me into your nest?" Buck teased. "I am honored."

Tommy gave him an unamused look. "No, Evan, I am not inviting you into my nest, but you can hang out outside of it."

Buck followed Tommy into the house, feeling a thrum of excitement running through his veins. He might not have been invited into Tommy's nest but he was invited to his nest adjacent, which was good enough.

When they got to Tommy's room, Buck was immediately taken aback. There was his hoodie in the middle of the bed, along with one of his coats.

"H- how did you get my hoodie and coat?" Buck asked confused.

"Hmmm?" Tommy hummed as he got into the bed and pulled the hoodie close to himself. "You gave me the coat the other day when I was cold," he reminded him. "And the hoodie..." A small smile played across his lips as he added, "...I had Eddie steal it for me."

"No way," Buck chuckled. "That little shit. He looked me right in the face and said he didn't know where my hoodie was." He shook his head and then got closer to the bed but stayed out of it. "Why do you have these?"

"Because," Tommy shrugged and looked down at the hoodie. "Do you want them back?"

"No!" Buck quickly told him. "If it provides you comfort then- then you should keep it."

Tommy smiled and nodded. "Thank you. I hope this isn't too weird."

"No, if anything, I like it," Buck assured him. He scratched the back of his head as he said, "If you want- only if you want- you can cuddle with me instead of the hoodie?"

Tommy looked surprised, but his blue eyes lit up. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip as he watched Buck. "Okay," he replied finally, and scooted on the bed, making space for Buck.

Buck knew exactly what this meant, but he refused to say it because he didn't want to spook Tommy.

Tommy turned around and lay down, leaving space for Buck

"Is this okay?" Buck asked as he got behind and wrapped his arm around him.

"More than okay," Tommy replied. "And Evan?"

"Yeah?" Buck asked

There was another pause before Tommy said, "Thank you."

"Anytime, Tommy," Buck replied and buried his face in the juncture between Tommy's neck and shoulder. "Go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up." He promised.

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #bucktommy #tevan #911 abc #fanfiction #911 fic #omegaverse #ask

[wolfpawzjakey]

The ghost of Jason who decides to stay with Percy.

kinder, but still creepy - your lover's ghost doesn't want to kill you or hurt you, he just wants to be with you, even if by all laws he is supposed to be in hades.

Percy always feels Jason - a fleeting touch on his cheeks, shoulders and arms, a light breeze or a draft walking in his apartment, the way the electricity hums, a shadow too human to be a play of light that is always next to him, the feelings of familiar but cold hugs at night.

Percy has watched horror movies, he knows what to do... but he doesn't want to part with Jason either, and neither does Jason with him.

Oog anon, this one.

I was thinking about ghost Jason recently. In many ways and senses. I like this idea a lot.

Jason’s ghost haunting Percy, and Percy really struggles with it. A memory of his dead lover, a memory of something he could’ve changed if he had just been there, prophecy be damned. It wasn’t his fault, but to him it was. Having Jason surround him as a ghost, always there, leaving his body cold and shuddering as he laid beside Percy, was an unending mental battle. Jason was attached to Percy, stuck to him with a tie that he couldn’t break and Percy had to struggle to find comfort in the sharp and stark anguish he felt by having Jason here again. Because he couldn’t mourn properly while having his dead boyfriend follow him around, he couldn’t mourn properly when he noticed how the wind would caress him gently or the electricity in his house would flicker whenever Percy said him name, a reminder of “I am here and will be here forever”. But Percy moves through it, the motions are harder, his days are longer, because Jason is here, he’s with him, in ways that matter but these ways can’t make up for what he’s missing. He finds comfort through Jason’s subtle reminders though, slowly but surely they make him.

The others notice subtle differences about Percy since Jason’s ghost has found him, but Nico is the first to bring it up, because of course he can see Jason, not that Jason’s really paid him much mind, too focused on Percy. Nico warns Percy against allowing Jason’s presence to stay, he knows neither would be happy, but he knows it would only kill Percy, one way or another. And knowing that, Percy doesn’t care, but Jason’s ghost, he shifts solemnly and as usual, wordlessly.

This issue in the air now, Jason has been quieter than usual, Percy’s place is warmer and he doesn’t get to feel the cold presence around him as often, not unless he begs and cries. He’s desperate, Jason’s ghost is ill at ease. Jason may be dead, may want with his whole might to be with Percy, but he doesn’t want that by the means of Percy dying as well. He wants to be back with Percy when time says it’s right, not because he’s selfish and not ready to let go and wait that time out. But in the moments he keeps his distance, watching from a point away in the house, where he isn’t sucking Percy’s energy from his body just to be able to announce his present, he can’t help but break his own rules when Percy’s eyes well up with tears. He folds instantly, the contact point between Percy’s body and his incorporeal form buzzing with energy that makes him more powerful, but sucks that power right from Percy’s soul.

The two dance this dance, their wants to be together even after Jason’s death stronger than anything, but Nico puts his foot down for them, Percy looks like hell, he’s exhausted all the time and easily sick. The teen is rough about it all but is easy to give solutions. Sure, these solutions are taxing on him, but he won’t die that’s for sure, and his strength in his power has only been getting better, letting Percy see and speak to Jason on some occasion unless Jason so decides to reincarnate. It’s a save for them both, as uneasy it is to let Jason go, they both go for this. Somehow an easy out but also the hardest thing to do for them.

-

I’ve read a few fics of the dead haunting their past lovers in good ways, either visibly or not, I’ve always really liked them. Plus the ability to choose if they stay with their people or move on to the other side it’s so 😭😭😭

Thank you for your ask anon!

#percy jackson #jason grace #pjo #hoo #toa #jercy #pawz replies #asks #jason x percy #haunting au #ghost au