#so I need to spend some serious time doing prep work for that over the coming week

[leclsrc]

reciprocate ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, pwp, very very filthy, fem!reader

word count: 4.5k

You have trouble maintaining your vow of Max celibacy when you’re on vacation together. (part 1 here)

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because… sexual tension like tons, dirty talk, masturbating, descriptions of sex, kissing, SEXUAL TENSION.

hope you like it everyone! :) req’d and i was gonna make this a drabble, but it kinda grew. kind of gives way for a part 3, so lmk if u would wanna read thaaat...?

You’re bored more than several times over the dry, chilly stretch of winter break.

With not much to do, you’ve taken to traveling before you settle back into reporting on what different teams are doing to prepare for March. It’s all car prep, helmet design, new advancements, some drama on budget breaches. But that all comes in the condensed end of February, so now you’re wandering around, aimless.

The invite comes after Christmas and before New Year’s. It’s also last minute, and you would’ve normally rejected it, but Lissie had managed to convince you despite yourself, so you text Daniel a thumbs-up, greenlighting his proposition to jet off to Monaco.

“I’m starting to think I should’ve just said no,” you mutter, dumping a bundle of clothes into your suitcase. Across you, equally busy, Lissie scoffs. 

She looks up from where she’s busy folding something, then, “In what universe would anybody want to pass up on a free Monaco trip where we can spend the entire week drinking our body weight in cocktails and swimming it off?”

You laugh, nodding in semi-agreement. It’s not Monaco, you want to tell her. It’s because everybody’s going, even Max. “You’re right,” you say instead, making a show of being excited. 

It didn’t seem the slighest bit sane to be going on a non-work trip where Max was going to be around. Your first tryst, barely a month ago, before the grand prix in Abu Dhabi, had given way to three days straight of retiring to his room, foregoing afterparties, and then, after deciding to go to one, sneaking back off and fucking in his room after just an hour of dancing.

Max is just as insatiable as you are, and it scares you—because it took every ounce of resistance from you to sit him down and affirm the statement that the constant sex was a bad idea. Outside of his room, outside his bed, you two still maintained the same caustic relationship, but the sex became like clockwork, and you could tell it wasn’t the best idea.

“We need to stop the sex,” you’d said, setting it down firmly. “It’s—it’s getting in the way of work.” 

“It really isn’t. You still have no problem calling me out after races and then getting fucked less than an hour later,” he said.

“I’m serious, it is. And if not now, it will.”

He’d shrugged. “Fine.”

“It’ll be easy,” you’d said sharply. “For me, at least.”

It feels like cosmic karma, then, when you’re told by Lissie that Max’s room is beside yours.

—

Almost funnily, Max’s is the first face you see after you’ve settled in your hotel room. You see him first, and then notice he’s joined by Daniel and Lando, at the bar near the beach where everyone else in your little group is hanging out. You make eye contact that you tear away from instantly, willing yourself to ignore him.

Daniel notices you first when you show up to order yourself a drink. “Swam yet?”

“Nope,” you say. “Think I’ll join the girls and tan today.”

“Just glad you finally accepted the invite,” Daniel comments. “Lissie told me you almost bailed for some weird reason.”

Your eyes dart over to Max, who’s drinking whiskey. He’s already looking at you, gaze cutting. You clear your throat and look away. “I thought it wouldn’t be the best idea, but I’m about three drinks away from loving it here.”

The small talk continues, and you even get your drink, but eventually Daniel and Lando are too enticed by the sunset water, running off and yanking their shirts off on the way. You shuffle nervously on the barstool, just two seats apart from Max.

“You’re here the whole week?” He asks, not looking at you. 

“I am,” you say, leveling his tone of nonchalance.

He makes a noise of petty disapproval, leaning back. From where you sit, you get fleeting glimpses of how he looks, and it isn’t helping your vow of celibacy. He’s big, which, while you knew this, still sends a throb of arousal through you. The tight tee he wears does nothing to hide what’s underneath, and his arms give you the impression that he could just throw you onto a bed or slam you against a wall like it’s nothing.

(Two things you could personally attest to, but that’s besides the point.) You’ve only just begun to get used to not having sex with him, but you’re starting to think you should get on the next flight off, because the thoughts creeping into your head of his hands, his tongue—

A cry of your name grabs your attention, and you blink, turning your head. Farther up the beach, Lissie and Lily are waving their hands around, calling you. “Let’s swim!” Lissie orders. “Now!”

“Bit busy there, were you?” Max asks, smirking. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, downing the rest of your cocktail and jogging over to your friends. Absently, you hear him chirp another teasing remark behind you—hope you drown. The abrasive remark lets the remainder of your scandalous thoughts filter out for the time being. You’re positive, though, that they won’t be gone for the whole two weeks.

You stop in front of Lissie to undo the clip in your hair when Lily asks nonchalantly: “Why’s Max staring at your ass?”

“Lil, oh m—” You swat her playfully. “Don’t just say things like that!”

“Sorry! Jesus. It was a serious inquiry. Guy’s eyes are glued. Don’t you hate each other?”

You resist the urge to turn around and maybe get in a dig of your own, but clear your throat and shrug. “You’re hallucinating. I’m sure he’ll have some random girl in his hotel room later tonight, anyway.”

You don’t miss the way Lily’s face is still etched with lack of conviction, but you tug her toward the beach anyway, splashing around and playing frisbee with the Daniel, Charles, and Lando. At some point, talk of clubbing arises through the six of you, and at Lando’s insistence, you all agree to meet up somewhere to get hammered later. A warm Monegasque welcome, Charles had dubbed it. 

A sluice of nerves slide across you when you hear Charles relay the idea to Max, and the latter reply with a fuck yes count me in. 

You learn a few short hours later that Monaco lives up to its predestined reputation as a nightlife beast, greeting you with vigor and sophistication. You’d been here before, but mostly for work—the immense drinking, dancing, and occasional drug is still a novel experience. Evidently, though, the drivers have little trouble settling into it, accepting and ordering shots and extravagant bottles like they’re nothing.

You’re off work, you figure, and you have no concrete responsibilites tied you as of the moment, so why not join in? 

Lissie is drunkenly slurring something into your ear, about how some guy is flirting with her but he’s a 6 at best and maybe I should just make out with him to make him feel better hey wait maybe he’s an 8 actually no 9, maybe 9.5 max—no he’s a 10 I’m fucking him bye, and Lily is pissed, likely being taken care of by Alex.

Charles had upheld a promise to remain sober, but said nothing of bringing a girl home, which he’d successfully pulled off just twenty minutes ago. Lando’s obviously busy spinning the tunes at the DJ booth behind you, howling with excitement every time he plays something he likes. Which, you realize, leaves you with Daniel.

You fix the hem of your tiny dress, throwing back another shot. Your tolerance doesn’t allow for alcohol to permeate fast; it goes slowly, and never results in too much of a headache, thank the Lord. You’re pleasantly buzzed, but you want more courage, more gravitas. A timely wish, considering you haven’t quite learned how much of a party monster Daniel is.

He leans in closer. “I bet you three shots of vodka you’re not kissing someone tonight.”

“I’ll take the opposing side,” you say, laughing. “Nobody here is doing it for me.”

“A gentleman’s agreement!” He hollers, waving a passing waiter over and ordering shots for people to share.

Although you’re in a roped off area of the club, there are still people walking around and crowding the area, including a girl who’s seated on Daniel’s lap. She whispers something mumbled and low into his ear, and you roll your eyes at his equally flirty response, pinching her thigh and kissing her neck. 

He turns back to you after, like it’s a casual conversation. “How can nobody ‘do it for you’ in a Monaco nightclub, man?”

There’s a question you can answer, but woefully won’t. You change the subject instead, cupping two shots. “How about you and I just do three shots each?”

“Make it four,” he says challengingly. “And take a hit.”

“Already did, Danny,” you refute. You’d smoked half a joint before drinking anything, not wanting to get too caught up in the crossfade. You’re half sure somebody in the group took molly, but your mouth is zipped all the same. “Come on, four shots.”

“Up, up,” he pauses, thinking. “Two shots of Patron vodka—and two of Clase Azul.”

Agreeing, you search for the liquor on the lit-up table, throwing the vodka back with relative ease and then standing up to do the last two. You stumble when you place the glasses back on the table, shaking hands with Daniel and moving about to shake off the alcoholic taste in your mouth.

You pass by Lando, and he flips you off from his place at the DJ booth, but eventually you meander your way to the bar instead, wedging yourself into an empty alcove that only houses a storage room door. It’s quieter, and here you can start to feel the alcohol in your system. You lean back against the wall, and just as you wished, a guy eventually approaches you.

He’s cute(ish), tall(ish), and charming(ish), and even in your hazy mind he registers as passable and definitely way too drunk and overconfident to be approaching somebody as hot as you. His arm wraps around you, toys with the flimsy strap of the minidress you’d worn today. His accent is clearly touristy and American when he asks, “What, bored tonight?”

“Little bit,” you say lowly, leaning back and letting your lips curl up into a smile. “Nothing is really exciting.”

He hums drunkenly. “I could be exciting. Show you something exciting.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you say, playing into him. “Tell me more.”

“I could tell you lots of things in my hotel room.” He smiles. “Don’t you want to have fun?”

“She’s had plenty, mate,” a voice unmistakably Dutch says, and pride wells up in you for having had your plan succeed so beautifully. You blink, reaching an arm out to gently push the guy out of the way—and meet eyes with the one behind him. Taller, broader, and evidently more sober than either of you, Max looks pissed (more than usual, at least.) “Piss off.”

“Christ, had I known she had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t’ve approached, man. Let’s all be calm.”

Max waves him off dismissively and approaches you, a glint of concern shadowing the irritance in his eyes. “This some kind of plan of yours?”

The alcohol has begun to rush through you. You’re hot, flushed all over, thinking of all the times you’d been in this position, purposely testing Max’s limits so he could test yours, albeit differently.  

“Dunno what you mean,” you say. Your gaze slips downward, to the big, rough hand wrapped around the glass of whiskey. You want them on you. Then they meet his again.

“Sure,” he says, unconvinced. “You’re having a lot of fun prancing around like you’ve no responsibilities.”

“Lighten up,” you insist boredly. “It’s called a vacation. It’s for letting loose.”

“Are you letting loose enough?” He asks, suggestive.

“Max.” You lean forward, and the movement lets him see more of your chest, or what your dress allows. He coughs. 

“No.” But despite himself, he’s leaning downward, too, his gaze stuck on your lips. “You told me yourself. It gets in the way of work.”

“This isn’t work,” you say, nerves hammering through you.

“Been looking after you all night, it might as well be.” His voice is cold and serious. He steps forward, effectively caging you against the wall with how bulky his frame is. “You need to be careful. I had to pry that asshole off of you.”

“What if…” You trail off, tilting your head back so you’re making searing, unbreaking eye contact. “That’s exactly what I wanted?”

You’re both frozen in place, staring up at him with the kind of coy you only get when you’re tipsy like this. Wide eyed, lip bitten, and dress riding up—this is exactly how Max likes you. Ready for him to wreck. One jerk of his knee in between your legs and you’re his. He considers other options: a light grip around your neck, or even just a hand on your waist would render you weak, too.

“You test me too much, Y/L/N.” You feel hazy from the way he says your name, in the way he always does—formal, professional, like you’re in the paddock interviewing him again. You can feel yourself growing wet. 

But you’d gotten yourself into this mess. You wore this dress, took those shots, let that guy flirt with you in hopes that Max would come over and give you his time of day. Deny as you might, you know deep down this is exactly what you were waiting for. You press a palm to his stomach, feeling the hard surface there, fisting it in his shirt. 

He grunts, lets his hand cover yours. “Schatz,” he says, guttural.

He lets your lips meet, but when you lean in for a proper kiss, he stands back up to his full height. One look in your eyes lets him realize you’re sufficiently sober, and he turns and walks away.

—

A volleyball hits your shoulder for the third time today.

Prior to that, it’d hit your forehead twice, putting an effective end to your beach volleyball winning streak. Beside you, Lando lets out a strangled cry of defeat.

“The volleyball legend is tapping out!” Daniel hoots from a nearby lawn chair, mimicking the racing commentators you’re all familiar with. 

“Piss off,” you say. “I’m off my game, too tired.”

You wave a dismissive hand to Lily and Alex and they flash thumbs up signs. You squeeze a bottle of water into your mouth, needing release from the thoughts plaguing your mind. The events of two nights ago weigh terribly heavy, annoyingly so, on your mind. 

Not Max himself, you argue. His voice. His touch. They’re so irresistible to you. The way he’d grunted out the pet name he reserved for sex, the way his hand was so much rougher, bigger than yours.

Absently, you wonder, if he hadn’t stopped it—what would’ve happened then? He must’ve been resisting his strongest demons to put an end to the flirting like that. Any other time, you think, it would’ve gone differently.

He’d crowd you against the wall, press hot, whiskey-flavored kisses to your neck. He’d drop his glass, uncaring if it shattered; he could pay for fifty of those and then some. You picture his big hands roughly feeling you up, pressing against your panties, asking if you wore them just for him. Mumbling about wanting to taste you, get on his knees and have your pussy right here, for his tongue only. You picture his fingers, nimble, yanking away the lace and pushing into your cunt, kissing your jaw, moving, moving, until you’re fully in an open-mouthed kiss, messy and dirty, just how he likes you. He’d say something mean. Do you enjoy being a slut, letting all these people watch me take care of you? You’d nod. It’s true, you do, humping his fingers and chasing release. You picture his dick, hard and thick, big like the rest of him, pressed against your bare thigh, and—

“Your gelato!” Lissie hollers crankily, waving a cone of coffee ice cream in front of you that’s begun to melt and stick to her fingers.

“Thinking of sum’in, mate?” Lando’s amused, sunglasses-clad face comes into view.

You flip him off and apologize to Lissie, attempting to enjoy your ice cream before you descend into a state of craziness. The beach day passes with additional moments of blank stares, though none to a worrying degree. Most of your friends chalk it up to you waking up late or spacing out thinking of work, thankfully. 

But, at least, you think. At least this just proves that you and Max can stick to your vow of celibacy. Right?

—

Max is never usually one to eavesdrop, but when he learned from Lily earlier in the week that your room was adjacent to his, he couldn’t help but become more conscious of it. Two days of silence, the occasional TV noise, and some stumbling provide nothing, so he’s since stopped paying attention. Between you two, you’re the one always out on the shore anyway, so there’s nothing much for him to listen to.

Tonight is different.

You don’t usually make noise—and he’s generally speaking here. You’re not a loud person. Even with the aid of a mic, your voice is composed, on the edge of quiet, during paddock reports. So why can he hear you so clearly now? The walls are a bit thin, sure, but something else contributes to it.

Something else, like maybe you’re doing all this on purpose.

The shuffling on the other side of the wall grows louder, then he hears your faint, breathy whimpers. He pauses, sitting a bit more upright on his bed, curiosity piqued, anticipates something else. Your whimpers grow louder, passing through the walls with relative ease. 

He could totally tune this out, maybe put on a movie, hell, leave the room for a late night walk or a drink somewhere.

But he’s rooted to his spot, listening intently, wanting to hear more of you. He hears it then, so breathy at first he almost doesn’t. Max.

Your moan. He blinks, feeling himself grow hard. Maybe he didn’t hear it right, but then he hears it again: Oh, Max. Please. Wanna, wanna— 

He palms at his dick through his sweats, swearing under his breath. You sound exactly like you do when you’re underneath him, two lithe hands wrapped around his wrist, begging for release, for his tongue, for his fingers. You’d been so sure, so high and mighty when you sat him down and demanded the sex stop, but here you are fucking yourself on your fingers, moaning his name.

Barely even ashamed, he tugs his dick out, already drooling with precum. He uses it to ease the glide of jerking off. Max, you say again, louder this time, higher. He remembers your conversation clearly, your solemn voice when you told him you couldn’t ever have sex again with the way it interfered with your jobs. The way you slid in a snide remark about how it’d be an easy challenge for you.

He can’t help but be amused, fucking his fist and listening to your moans, growing in volume as you near your climax. He wants to ask if your fingers are as good as his, as his tongue, his cock. He knows you’ll say yes but think the opposite. You’ve always grown so weak around him.

Gonna cum, he hears again. 

He pictures you writhing on your bed, eyes rolling back, fist half-bitten to try and silence yourself. Your thighs are probably shaking, brows knitted together, tongue lolling out—he jerks himself faster, panting, chest sweaty. It’s your last, loud moans that send him over the edge. 

I’m cumming, Maxie, fuck—! He swears under his breath, cum spurting out all over his fist. He catches his breath, pursing his lips, squeezing his eyes shut. Tries to purge himself of his thoughts of how you might look right now and retreats into his bathroom.

It doesn’t work.

—

Lando personal phone 30s ago

Lissie wants her own bacardi and could you get doritos too x

And a box of condoms pls mate xx

“One more Bacardi and a bag of Doritos,” you dictate boredly. Who knew a high profile, all expenses paid vacation in one of the richest countries in the world would still entail the mandatory grocery run? “…And condoms.”

Max turns from where he’d retrieved the rum, a brow raised in question. “Sorry?”

“Lando, not me,” you defend, holding two hands up. You two had been the unlucky pair who drew short straws and were thus stuck with a long list of niche items in an empty convenience store not far from your hotel. Outside, the sun’s already gone, leaving behind traces of orange in an otherwise dark sky. The group had decided to stay nearby and drink instead of going out tonight, since you’d all been at a club basically every other night anyway.

You review each of your baskets. “Seems like this is all,” you conclude, “except the condoms, which we’ll get at the counter.”

“Did Lando specify a… brand?” Max asks, pacing to the cashier. There are already some on display, with varying features and sizes. 

You recheck your phone. “Nope. Just get anything.”

“Alright, then.” Max picks up an XXL condom box and waves it around. “For Little Lando.”

Irritated, you roll your eyes. “Be reasonable, Max.”

“You said get anything!”

“You’re so annoying,” you fume. You catch sight of the cashier looking uncomfortable with the tension between you and Max and figure the situation needs to deescalate. “Okay. Fine. Whatever, just get something reasonable. Put that back.”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘reasonable,’” he says teasingly, clearly trying to push your buttons.

“Just get a standard condom box.”

“What is a standard co—”

“Get the ones you normally use,” you say, realizing the words after they leave your mouth.

The cashier coughs.

Shrugging, Max grabs the familiar box off the shelf and tosses it, emptying both your baskets right after. His face is amused when he turns and you see him again, but you’re both wordless while the payment goes through and you exit together. The car ride back to the hotel is quiet, stuffy, and tense, your arms crossed over your chest and Max’s occupied with both of the plastic bags.

“I’m surprised you remember what condoms I use.” He says with a smug smile when you’re both in the elevator. He’s parked his car on the basement floor, so you need to get to the lobby. You watch the lights signify what floor you’re on, waiting desperately for the ground floor button to glow yellow.

Still annoyed, you humor him despite yourself. “Why’s that?”

It dings yellow right as he responds. “You’re always begging for me to cum inside you, anyway.” 

The doors open but neither of you move. Max watches you grow flustered and take a deep breath. “You’re a sicko,” you declare, walking out. He follows you with a laugh, knowing he’s right.

You meet the group outside the lobby, where they’re already piling onto a yacht, big enough for everyone. It’s ridiculously huge and expensive-looking, bobbing softly by the dark water. Charles emerges from the upper tier and waves to you and Max with a goofy grin.  

After you help spread and deposit the groceries on the table, you walk around, finally detaching yourself from Max’s side. Eventually drinks ebb around the group, shots and crude cocktails that are fed to you like water. Buzzed with warmth and courage, you move to the back of the boat where there’s a ladder to swim, grunting when you find Max already there.

You clench your cocktail. “What’re you doing?”

“Preparing to swim, what’s it look like?”

“Oh.” You pause. “I didn’t know you could swim.”

You down the rest of your drink, leaning against the side of the boat and watching as he sheds his shirt and jumps into the ocean. Some of the water splashes onto you, and it’s cold, sending goosebumps throughout your body. He surfaces, hair darkened from being wet and smile dopey. A few strands of hair stick up. 

“Wanna join?”

“Over my dead body,” you say, taking a seat and dripping your legs instead. 

“The water’s nice.”

“It’s frigid,” you counter. “You should be wearing a snowsuit, dumbass.”

“How mean,” he says, diving underneath and surfacing again. “You’re too chicken, is all.”

Emboldened, by the buzz of alcohol maybe, the music, or—most likely of all—Max’s teasing, you nod. “Chicken?”

You get up, legs dripping, and pull your shorts down, tugging your tiny tank top off right after. You’re left in your bathing suit, and watch as Max’s eyes lock onto your tits, spilling out of your bikini top. His gaze is slow on you, like it’s his first time seeing you like this.

You step onto the cool ladder to avoid jumping, your back turned to Max’s as you feel more and more of your body submerge into the freezing water. You turn, taking a seat on one of the rungs. Max swims toward you, wiping a hand over his face. 

“Not a chicken. But I’m not going any lower,” you say firmly, in the water from the waist down. “It’s too cold.” 

“I’m fine having you like this,” he says lowly, his voice thick with desire. He cages you in, two big hands on either side of the ladder. For leverage, your legs wrap around him. You’re so close together. After days, weeks, of resisting.

You release a shaky breath, staring at him, his shoulders, his hands.

“How’s your vacation been?” He asks, lips near your ear.

“Fine,” you say. “Fun.”

“Bring anyone to your room?” You shake your head; he persists. “So you’ve had no luck there, then?” 

“None at all,” you say blatantly.

“S’that why you’ve been…” A hand leaves the ladder to squeeze your thigh. “Moaning my name while fucking yourself?”

Your eyes widen, blinking, undeniably caught. You open your mouth to formulate a defense but you can’t. “What are you talking about?”

“Aw, don’t be shy, schatz. You were the one who kept insisting we swear off sex, but I think you’re starting to miss me.”

He presses two fingers to the crotch of your bottoms, rubbing softly. It’s enough to let you whimper. “Max—”

“You keep prancing around in tiny bikinis, skirts, tops. Is it on purpose, hmm? I can’t stop thinking about claiming you. On my bed, my balcony, over any surface.”

He quickens his fingers, and you whine. It feels so good, reminiscent of how wicked he is in bed. You picture it—being bent over the side of the boat, his hands big on your waist, cock sliding in and out of you.

“Feels s’good, Max,” you breathe.

“Does it?” He asks, egging you on. You nod, gripping his wrist—your hand’s still circled around it when he yanks it away.

“But remember what you told me? Before the break?”

“I—fuck,” you mutter, frustrated. “Please.”

“They were your words, not mine, schatz,” he says, easygoing as he dives back underwater, leaving you alone and sexually frustrated. You curse lowly. It’s going to be a long rest-of-the-week.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen drabble #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fanfic #f1 x reader

[1-ker0sene-1]

God your blog is fucking SCRUMPTIOUS. If you’re willing could you do something with a reader who has POTS? Much love ❤️

{Thank you so much ♥️ Apologies this took so long! Requests are starting to come out again! I lost all my drafts due to my laptop breaking and had to rewrite 🥹}

Gaz

Honest to god. This man would probably be the absolute best partner for someone with POTS. Whether he was there for your diagnosis or you already had it when you started dating, he wants to help and accommodate the best he can. Kyle would hate for you to feel isolated, trying to match and normalize your routine so you're not alone.

Definitely got you both massive water bottles, the ones that have at the very least sixty ounces. So you can keep drinking and sipping all day and stay hydrated. If you don't feel comfortable going out to a physical therapist? Kyle is researching ALL night how to do gentle therapy at home with you.

Taking care of you is second nature to him. He's constantly thinking about you. When he leaves for deployment he has small meals already prepped in the fridge for you, cleaned the whole house.. leaves sweet notes all over the place reminding you to drink water, get some electrolytes, cool off and get plenty of rest.

"I'll be home soon baby ~K"

"Don't forget to drink your water! Love you pretty girl ~K"

"Rest for me lovie, we'll be doing plenty of 'exercise' when I get back ;) ~K"

Price

Prepared. That is what John is. He wants to be ready if you have a bad day, so he can pamper you as much as he physically can if he cannot immediately whisk away your pain. John definitely moves fast in a relationship, especially if he feels an immediate connection. You're telling him he can take care of you? Of course it's not that he likes that you struggle with the condition, but his love language is definitely acts of service.

" 's no trouble love, house feels empty when you aren't in it anyways. Might as well just stay full time."

You're moving in. He's installing a nice and sturdy shower bench, he's got snacks all around the house for you, he's mixing electrolyte powder in your water. John wants you to thrive more than anything, you're his girl, going to be his wife one day. He still wants you to feel and be independent, if you need he'll go with you to get a mobility aid so you can comfortably go out more.

He's set in his military ways so.. He's somewhat blunt with scheduling. Little reminders all day to drink your water with a kiss to your forehead. When you go out together, he's stashed some instant cold packs and little salt packets in your bag. John often lifts your hand to check your BPM tracker, once he's done he'll kiss your knuckles.

"Look at that darlin' .. Takin' care of yourself so well for me."

Soap

Johnny had quite the habit of being a bit lazy when home from deployment. But then you wandered into his life, he didn't know about your POTS at first. Just figured you also had a busy life and preferred nights in for dates. Then you got more serious in your relationship and opened up to him about your condition. It was an immediate flip of a switch, Johnny became your Johnny.

He wants you to be able to spend your energy doing the things you love, not the simple tasks, especially when he can take care of it. You practically gained a Scottish housewife. He'll shoo you softly away from the dishes, insisting you enjoy your hobbies or rest up so you two can have a nice day out. Laundry, cleaning, making the bed. Bathing you even though you're perfectly capable, definitely not to touch you and get a little handsy-

"I can take care of ye bonnie.. believe me tha more I do the more I fall for ye."

Would say the only somewhat struggle, is overheating at night. Cause you cannot tell me this man doesn't run hot like a heater. And he loves to love you, hold you, touch and feel you. But there's work arounds, a nice AC, and cooling blankets. Besides he sleeps like a rock so once he's out, if you get too hot you can give him a little push off you. Rarely he'll wake up and drawl out whines.

"..miss ye lass.. my arms are useless without ye in them.."

Ghost

Simon never thought of himself as a worrier. He's been through hell and back and not much phases him. But the first time he saw you faint nearly sent him to an early grave, threw whatever was in his hands to dart over to catch you. This was definitely before he really started to understand the seriousness of POTS. Now it's constantly on his mind, especially the moments in the day when he's not right there with you.

He doesn't want you to feel guilty about his panic, so he's pretty stoic and calm when face to face with you. Definitely goes in with you to every doctor's appointment now, asks questions, how he can help, what to do during your flare ups. You best believe he is taking everything your doctor suggests to heart. Buying you a BPM monitor, knowing Simon he'll probably figure a way to connect it to his phone. So even when he's not with you he knows a little about how you're doing. Statistically it's his most used app now. Once in a while you get a blunt-

"Go rest."

-text from Simon as soon as it gets too high for his liking.

Simon is very adamant that you take plenty of breaks throughout the day, if you're overexerting yourself he's right there with you. An arm winding around you, kissing the nape of your neck after gently brushing your hair aside.

"How you feelin' doll? Let's get you some water and we'll take a break for a while yeah? Put on that show you like and I'll take care of this.."

#cod x reader #disabled reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #taskforce 141 x reader #cod ghost x reader #cod soap x reader #cod gaz x reader #captain john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #tf 141 x reader

[yelenasdiary]

Flufftober request:

Wandanat x reader (romantic)

Didn't really have a full-on idea for this one. But something fluffy. Maybe like a cute date after being working nonstop. Or them cooking together.

Pecan Pie

Pairing:  WandaNat x Avenger! GN! Reader

Summary:  After a relaxing weekend, you and your girlfriends spend a quiet Monday afternoon baking. 

Warnings:  None, all Fluff! | 1.2K

Translations: Detka (baby), miláčik (darling in Slovak)

AC: I thought this was cute!! I hope you don’t mind that I decided to keep it Fall themed! Enjoy x 

October Special Masterlist

To say you were excited was an understatement! You'd been waiting for this day since mid-September, well, let's be honest, since last Halloween! It would be the second Halloween you got to spend with your girlfriends, Wanda and Natasha. Sure you guys have spent other Halloween's together but not as a couple. While you had returned from your solo mission early, you went to the store and grabbed everything you, Wanda and Nat would need for the planned baking afternoon on Monday.

Your girlfriends arrived home around lunch time on Sunday, giving the three of you the perfect night to be snuggled up watching spooky movies. Halloween was right down your alley as it was your favorite holiday. The others knew that when Halloween came howling around, to leave you in the kitchen to bake up a spooky feast. 

Tony was throwing another one of his big parties, this time for Halloween and you confidently told him that you, Wanda and Nat would have the food covered. You made a list of things you wanted to make with your girlfriends, everything from popcorn balls to pecan pie. Wanda could help but chuckle to Nat as they watched you put your apron on, of course a Halloween themed one. They loved how happy the holiday made you and even more that they got to enjoy it with you. 

"Well? Don't just stand there, we have so much to do!" You playfully teased your girlfriends as they stood in the doorframe of the kitchen. The two women laughed before walking over to grab an apron each. 

"Where do you want me to start detka?" Natasha asked not before placing a kiss on your cheek as she wrapped her arms around your waist. Natasha was always the trouble maker, she loved distracting you with the touch of her lips while she could barely keep her hands off you. "Honey don't distract them yet; we haven't even started" Wanda placed a hand on Natasha's forearm as she made her way behind the two of you. 

"I want to get some of savoury food done first before the desserts!" you turned in Natasha's arms now facing her. She smiled softly making you blush at her eye contact, "does that mean I can savour you?" the red head asked in a smooth and flirting tone. "Natty!" you giggled, "we're never going to get anything done with you being like this" you added before reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss her plumped lips.

"I'll be serious now, I got what I wanted" Natasha playfully winked when you pulled away. You smiled softly at her before swiftly moving out of her arms and moving over to the kitchen island, "I printed off each recipe so pick 1 recipe each and we'll get the prep done a lot faster, whatever needs to bake the longest will go first in the oven" you explained as you spread out the many recipes on the dining table, away from the mess that was only going to get bigger. 

After a few short minutes the three of you picked a recipe to make, Natasha picked mini-Pumpkin & Feta pies, Wanda picking the Pecan Pie while you chose Pumpkin Hummus. "Okay so the pecan pie will take the longest to bake, Wands you have first dips on the oven then Natty!" you smiled with excitement as the three of you wandered back to the kitchen island and began picking up the ingredients that you all needed for your picked recipe. 

It wasn't long until the mess in the kitchen was scattered around the countertops, flour and other chopped ingredients ended up on the floor, a mess you promised to clean up later to save the cleaning staff the hassle. Wanda's pecan pie was baking in the oven when you felt her come up behind you and gently place her two hands on your cheeks, "OMG!" You almost jumped, Wanda started laughing as you turned around and exposed the flour print hand prints she left on your cheeks. 

"Now that's a baked good I'd like to eat" Natasha commented as you grabbed a small hand full of flour from your silver bowl and rushed over to Wanda, sprinkling it in her hand before throwing the remained of the flour at Nat. Both women broke out into laughter, Wanda wrapped her arms around you and pulled you closer into her while giving Natasha a certain look. Nat read between the lines and grabbed the bowl of flour form your section of the kitchen, she walked up behind you and poured the leftover flour over your head causing you to squeal. 

"You guys are so dead for that!" you teased, shaking the flour from your hair. 

The whole compound could hear the commotion coming from the kitchen, laughed and squeals filled the kitchen which made the compound feel less like a place of work and more of a place everybody called home. 

You grabbed the large bag of flour and threw handfuls of flour at your girlfriends while ducking behind the end of the kitchen island as they gently threw other scraps at you. The small food fight got serious when Wanda distracted you by asking you to check on her pie while Nat came up behind you and cracked an egg over your head. You gasped as you turned to your red headed girlfriend, "you did not!" you said, reaching for the chocolate sauce that was in a squeeze bottle, "you're going to pay!" you added. Both of your girlfriends unbale to stop laughing. 

You squeezed a decent amount of chocolate sauce onto Natasha's chest, pointing the bottle directly at her before moving it into Wanda's direction who squealed loudly and ran away, using a dining table chair as a shield from the chocolate treat. None of you realised that Tony, Steve, Maria and Sam were watching everything unfold from the doorframe of the kitchen. 

"Is it too late to call a bakery? We'll need food for tomorrow" Sam looked over at Tony.

"Nah, It's Y/n, they'll make it happen, don't stress" Maria replied before Tony could open his month. The four Avengers watched their friends destroy the kitchen in a food fight mess before one egg hit Steve's stomach. The three of you froze as your eyes met the other four watching in amusement. 

"W-we'll clean this up!" you stuttered while looking at Tony, "I promise!" you added in hopes he wasn't mad. Wanda wrapped one arm around your waist while Natasha wrapped her arm around the other side of your waist, "it was our fault" the women said in sync. 

"I don't care who started it, just don't let the pecan pie burn or else Steve will be mopey" Tony replied before walking away. Steve watched him, shaking his head. 

"Are you happy now?" you looked at both of your girlfriends, "we're a mess, the kitchen is a disaster, and we haven't even gotten to making the popcorn balls!" you added with a pout. 

"Oh miláčik, you stress too much" Wanda clicked her fingers together, using her magic to instantly clean up the kitchen and yourselves. "How do I almost forget you have powers?" you playfully shook your head at Wanda, "let's get back to baking!" you added with a smile.

Taglist: @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @romanoffs-widow | @maria-403 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | @xox-little-troublemaker-xox | @shibugs | @music-4ever

#yelenasdiary asks #ilovewandanat #fanfiction #marvel #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #black widow #wandanat #WandaNat x Reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

[someforeignband]

there's red & green everywhere (but i'm so blue) WC: 1.8k this is for all the christmas haters who have partners that are christmas lovers

Theoretically, Eddie should hate Christmas. It’s an amalgamation of everything he stands against, from organized religious celebration to conformism to capitalist gift-buying bullshit.

And, it’s not like Steve hates Christmas. It wasn’t like that, he swears it’s not. But, this year he didn’t even bother pulling decorations from storage because he knew his parents weren’t coming home.

And that was that, the garland and tree and mistletoe could stay boxed up in the garage. Steve wouldn’t have to worry about breaking his back to decorate the house. He had a partner that not only loved him, but liked him, so he didn't have to worry about impressing someone with unrealistic expectations of him.

For the first Christmas ever, Steve was without obligations.

Christmas might, for once, not be a massive disappointment if he didn’t spend the next few weeks building up excitement for something that would never happen.

It should’ve all been fine and dandy, should’ve been good. Steve could rest easy knowing there wasn’t anything he had to do in preparation for the holiday season.

But, to Steve’s absolute shock and horror: Eddie Munson loves Christmas.

Eddie loves Christmas in a way that he actually owns a copy of Frank Sinatra's Christmas album on tape and apparently keeps it in his car year round. Eddie loves Christmas in a way that means he has a whole box of recipes reserved just for the Christmas season. He loves Christmas in a way that means that he goes all in, just like he does with anything else Eddie loved.

The Munsons love Christmas in a way that means that Eddie and Wayne have a massive advent calendar that they take time every day to open. The Munsons love Christmas in a way that means that there’s VHS tapes of A Charlie Brown Christmas and It’s A Wonderful Life sitting out just begging to be watched.

Eddie Munson loves Christmas.

So much so, that it pretty much looks like Santa and his Elves exploded all over the northeast corner of Forest Hills Trailer Park.

“Holy shit, Ed,” Steve shakes his head, looking around the trailer in disbelief. “This is crazy.”

“Isn’t it incredible!” Eddie grins, unwrapping another string of multi-colored lights.

“It’s-uh...” Steve stammers, trailing off, sort of dumbfounded by the insane amount of holiday cheer.

Not that he cared that Eddie loved Christmas. It was nice, actually, to see him so excited about something so... normal. Maybe this was a minor re-direction of the current timeline. No biggie.

Except that Steve supposed he’d have to rethink just about everything regarding the upcoming holidays. There’d have to be gift buying, and event planning, and meal prepping, and cleaning, and all of this pressure to do things he's not good at.

He's never been good at holidays, or gifts, or family, or love, or any of that stuff that comes with this time of year.

"Wayne needs some help outside with the lights, he's too old to be up on the ladder." Eddie calls over his shoulder, having migrated across the trailer to top the tree with an angel.

"Do you mind helping him out?"

"Oh-uh... No, no not at all. I got it." Steve murmurs, backing toward the door, still reeling from seeing Eddie like this.

Wayne greets him outside, smiling, nose red from the early December air.

"He's serious?" Is all Steve can say, exasperated, breath fogging up in front of him.

"As a heart attack, son," Wayne shrugs, grinning. "The kid loves Christmas." "Oh, no, yeah," Steve barks out. "I got that much."

"He's a little intense," Wayne chuckles.

"Got that, too," Steve laughs.

"I think he gets that from his momma," Wayne shrugs.

Steve moves toward the pile of lights and begins untangling. He's still in a near-trance, thoughts swirling, trying to figure out what this meant for Eddie, what this meant for their relationship-

"Don't work too hard over there, boy," Wayne chuckles, plugging a string of lights into an extension cord.

"Oh, I wasn't, I'm just-"

"C'mere," Wayne beckons him over, pointing at the painter's ladder leaned up against the side of the trailer. "Eddie'll lose his mind if I get up there." And so they go about hanging lights, and Steve's so focused on the fact that Eddie likes Christmas to even recognize that he was on a rickety old ladder, that it was higher than he was probably comfortable with, or even that it was cold.

Eddie likes Christmas.

He climbs down from the ladder, shoving hands in his pockets, just looking at Wayne, whose brows were furrowed, mouth all tensed up like he was trying not to cough or something.

"All done," Steve offers, brightly, slapping on a smile.

He's trying, alright. But, the imminent Eddie likes Christmas won't stop screaming at him, like it's a box he can't check.

"You okay, son?" Wayne asks, and it's like all the air gets sucked out of Steve's lungs.

"I don't think I can do Christmas like Eddie does," He confesses before he can stop himself, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

Wayne laughs, shaking his head, resting a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Nobody does Christmas the way Eddie does."

Wayne was entirely too unserious for the situation at hand and was obviously not understanding what Steve was saying.

"I've never really liked Christmas," Steve says quietly, like it's a secret, like he's afraid Eddie will hear. "I just don't want to disappoint him."

Wayne stops laughing, blinking a few times. "Oh, Steve, it's not that big'a deal."

"I didn't even plan on getting him a gift, I didn't even know we were celebrating Christmas, I thought he would hate it."

"Steve," Wayne cuts him off, placing his other hand on Steve's shoulder. "Eddie doesn't care about any of that."

Steve shrugs his hands off, shaking his head. "I just wish I would've known so I could better prepare."

"Prepare for what exactly?" Wayne asks, wetting his lips.

"So I'd do all the things he needs me to do to make Christmas special, you know? Ugly sweaters and presents and baked goods and all of that Christmas crap."

Wayne's eyes flicker downwards, like he's thinking something he's not saying.

"You wish you could've better prepared? To what? Pretend to be somebody you're not?"

"Well," Steve groans. "Don't say it like that."

"Son," Wayne sighs, and his hand is back on Steve's shoulder again. "The most important part of Christmas for Eddie is being with the people he loves. You are what makes Christmas special for him."

It takes everything inside Steve to not roll his eyes, it would be like Wayne to give him the 'Christmas is about love and family' bullshit. From the way it looked inside that damn trailer, like the North Pole had suddenly relocated to Hawkins Indiana, Steve had a snowball's chance in hell of making Eddie's Christmas special.

"The most important present Eddie will get this year is you spending Christmas with us," Wayne presses further.

And this time, Steve can't help it. He feels his eyes roll, ever so slightly. He sighs, giving Wayne a defeated shrug because this guy can not be serious. Did they see the same Eddie inside throwing fistfuls of tinsel onto every free surface?

But, before he can get into all of that, the front door to the trailer is slamming open and Eddie's skipping around all excited, looking at the lights.

God, Steve felt like shit.

"Look, kid," Wayne tries one more time, squeezing Steve's shoulder, pulling his attention back to the task at hand. "Eddie loves Christmas because it helps him be close to the people he loves. Don't go off trying to be somebody else for him, that would ruin the whole damn point."

That would ruin the whole damn point.

"They look so good, you guys!" Eddie grins, feet crunching over frozen leaves as he trots over to Steve and Wayne.

"And, I didn't get on the ladder even once," Wayne grins, eyes flicking between Steve and his nephew.

Something in the middle of Steve's chest tugs, painful but good, like rubbing out a sore muscle or itching at a sunburn.

"I wouldn't let him," Steve offers, end of his mouth twitching up into a soft smile.

"I knew I could trust you," Eddie grins, dimples on full display, cheeks already going red from the winter Indiana air.

Wayne waves a hand, feigning frustration, scoffing. "You both act like I'm a sneeze away from the grave. I'm goin' inside."

He storms away, but Steve knew he wasn't actually upset. His shoulders were shaking in silent laughter as he trudged toward the trailer's front door.

The door slams, and Steve feels Eddie's hand just barely grace his own. They stood a respectable distance apart. Steve's hand tingles from the featherlight touch, and his stomach flutters, watching Eddie look over his shoulder at the lights.

"Thanks for helping him," Eddie whispers, eyes bright and full of pure happiness. "He makes me so damn nervous on that stupid ladder."

Steve nods and a gust of wind makes him shiver, cutting right through him. It was damn cold out, and yet he hadn't noticed.

"Come inside, bug," Eddie gives his hand a quick squeeze. "It's gonna start to snow."

Steve looks up, and almost serendipitously a frozen flake hits his nose.

"Oh," He whispers, wiping his forehead.

Eddie giggles, "C'mon, baby. I was gonna make us some cocoa." He pats Steve's arm gently, nodding towards the trailer.

"I even bought a real gallon of milk for it! No powdered shit."

There's that feeling again, like cracking your knuckles or ripping off a bandaid.

The most important present Eddie will get this year is you spending Christmas with us.

Steve sighs, feeling another flake hit his ear, then another, and then another. He looks at the lights he just spent the better part of the last couple hours hanging, a few of them didn't light up fully, blinking dull and slow.

"Coming," He says, feeling the frozen leaves and grass crumbling under his steps. Eddie's holding the door open for him, grinning ear to ear at him like he was the one who put the angel at the top of the tree.

He picks up his pace, knocking his hip against Eddie's as he shuffles through the door of the Munson's trailer.

You are what makes Christmas special for him.

"I love you," Steve breathes, quiet and hesitant, as soon as the front door closes.

It feels weird, the warm lighting, the smell of hot cocoa on the stove, the Frank Sinatra Christmas album playing in the background.

Sunburns heal. Sore muscles get stretched out. Ripping a bandaid off only hurts for a second, and sometimes you have to crack your knuckles, so your fingers will feel better.

"I love you too, sweetheart," Eddie responds easily, without obligation.

For the first Christmas ever, Eddie had Steve. For the first Christmas ever, Steve was without obligation.

#christmas ficlet #steddie ficlet #holiday ficlet #holiday steddie #holiday steddie ficlet #established relationship #christmas steddie ficlet #steddie #wayne munson #uncle wayne #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington hc #eddie munson hc #christmas #peace love and uncle wayne #ej writes !! #will i ever be able to write something short? #apparently not

[writingseaslugs]

Pomefiore Romantic Headcanons

So originally, Rook was like that weird attractive character to me. As I was writing this, though, I had heart eyes, so…guess I’ve managed to write my way into simping over Rook now. Ah, the joys of falling for even more characters!

Disclaimer: All characters in this series is aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post. Beta read by Grammarly and it’s trying its best.

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore (You're Here | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

Romantic Headcanons

Vil Schoenheit

How did Vil Schoenheit, the Vil Schoenheit, fall for a potato? No, this is a serious question he has to ask himself several times the moment he realizes he has a sweet spot for you. Especially if you’re more of a goblin type of person. Most people are like goblins with how they act, but you? Those weird moments with how you act, how you eat. All of it’s wrong in his eyes, but he, for some reason, finds it charming when you’re the one doing it.

He will be making an effort to make you look a little bit better, though. He thinks you’re glowing naturally, even if you just rolled out of bed in the morning and don’t know how to tie your bow around your neck properly. He’s going to be dragging you to the dorm and showing you how to use all the proper skin care products, how to deal with your hair, iron your clothes, and apply subtle but effective makeup. If he’s to be seen in public with you, you need to at least care a little bit about how you look. Please, at least attempt to put in a little effort. He thinks you’re beautiful either way, but he’s also seeing you through rose-tinted lenses and knows this.

When he thinks you’re finally ready and he’s spent enough time trying to court you, he’ll be inviting you to a fancy restaurant. Probably owned by a family friend, so the staff is completely on it with making sure you’re not interrupted, and nobody takes notice of you two. He wanted it to be private, so there was no pressure, but going incognito for a celebrity is a little bit hard. Somehow, he’ll make it work, and after dinner, will as if you’d like to begin seeing one another romantically.

Due to his status, it’s going to be kept a secret. This is mainly going to be for your sake. People can be downright vicious, and even if Vil would love to flaunt you off as his lover, he knows there would be jealous fans. It’s not so hard in public outings when you’re two out and about, but on campus, it can be a bit tricky. It’s obvious he gives you special treatment and spends time with you more often than not. Try to refrain from romantic gestures and pet names, and people might assume Vil is simply trying to teach you how to be a proper dorm leader (and some might even pity you for it).

He enjoys spending spare time with you, but he’s busy. Some compromise is whenever he does his personal spa day to make sure he’s always radiant and glowing, you’re going to be with him. He’s going to teach you about his favorite face masks, make sure your nails are done, and maybe even do your makeup for you. The entire time he’s peppering your face with kisses (as long as it doesn’t ruin the makeup he just put on).

As someone who’s going to eventually be publicly known as Vil’s lover, he’s going to hold you to the same standards he holds himself to. He wants you to be healthy and active, so he’s going to help you with meal prep and invite you for morning jogs with him. You’re free to decline, but the disappointing glint in his eyes is more than enough to change most people’s minds. He’s also going to be teaching you proper etiquette and table manners. You’re going to be in the same boat as Epel, maybe even receiving lessons at the same time. The things we do for love.

Thankfully it’s not all about appearances. You can influence Vil a lot as well, especially with letting go and having fun. He won’t want to do it in public where others can see the less-than-elegant version of him, but with you, it’s fine. Goofing off while studying, making jokes, it’s all fair game. As long as it doesn’t affect his looks (don’t you DARE put a marker on his face while he’s asleep. The horror of getting acne from it is an instant relationship ruiner), then it’s considered fun. He’ll even let you get away with corny nicknames for him and make fun of certain things you have to do (like folding a napkin a certain way on your lap while eating).

Vil is eventually going to approach you and ask if you want to make your relationship publicly known. At this point, he’s already lectured you on what to expect and the backlash. If you’re fine with it, then you’re going to be dragged to a studio for a couple photo shoots. Fancy clothes and perfect make-up, and one of the best photographers Vil knows. If he’s making an announcement on social media, he refuses to use a photo of you squishing your cheek with his and taking a selfie (which he totally doesn't use as his home screen on his phone). It’s going to look like a photo out of a magazine and when it’s posted, expect an influx of followers (even if you never post). You’ll want to turn off DMs unless you’re friends, though. You’re going to be getting hate.

Once it’s out there with your relationship, he’s far more affectionate at school. Always offering his arm for you to hold onto while walking to classes, having you sit with him for meals, and even participated in his film club. If you’re willing, he wants to have you be the main love interest in romantic films, but if not, then that’s fine. When going out to town, he will not leave your side for a moment. You need to be holding onto him the entire time, so you don’t get lost in the swarm of fans. If anyone so much as touches you or glares, Vil will shoot them a sickeningly sweet smile as a warning to back off. He won’t lash out in public, but he has a very versatile Vice Warden capable of dealing with those things.

Vil refuses to step foot into Ramshackle. He loves you, he truly does, but your home isn’t made for someone like him. He gets dust on his heels, and he’s done for the day. He's been there and done that, so he refuses to repeat it. So you’ll be mainly in his dorm. Normally after spa nights, he’ll insist you stay with him for the night. It’s too dangerous to go home at this hour, not to mention the dust bunnies from your bed might make you break out after the exfoliation you two did. Besides, he has silk pillowcases that are amazing for your hair. Now lay down next to him so he can scoop you into his arms and whisper into your ear about how much he loves you as you fall asleep.

Rook Hunt

Rook’s initial interest in you stems from how defenseless you are. A magic-less prefect who now runs an abandoned dorm? Now that’s something worth looking into. He originally isn’t going to stalk you, though. You’re not some prey for him; it would be too easy. That is until he sees how you begin turning heads at the school. How the wardens of other dorms begin being protective over you. Even Leona and the Leech Twins will hover around you and snap at anyone stupid enough to try to harm you. Now…this is something Rook wants to know more about.

He will begin stalking you all the time. When Leona or the Leech twins are around, he’ll back off. They’re too observant and will notice Rook and give you a warning, and he simply can’t have his prey knowing about him too soon. He does begin to learn about your relationships with other students, your daily activities, study habits, favorite foods, and classes. He makes notes of all these things, even what time you normally wake up and what kind of drink you have to wake you up.

Once he has all this information, he’ll begin popping up around you. Sometimes snatching things so you’ll have to find them, and he can come up and hand them to you, claiming you dropped them earlier. Meeting you on your walk to school and offering to escort you. Being at your normal lunch table a little bit before you with at least one of your favorite foods on his plate that he happily offers up to you if you couldn’t grab it yourself. He is playing the perfect part of being convenient, and he begins noticing how you warm up to him. How your smile is just a bit brighter, your touch lingers a little longer than needed when he hands you something, and how your voice changes a little in pitch when you thank him or even laugh at something he says.  

It’s around this time that he realizes he’s enamored by you. Normally he loves to see beautiful things but never really touches them. You’re a different story; he falls for every little thing you begin doing. He also becomes an expert in your body language, knowing when you’re annoyed with someone and whisking you away, when you’re being sarcastic and teasing, when you’re in a chipper mood than usual, and more likely to say yes to things. He becomes an expert and begins complimenting how you express yourself. You’ll find out things you do that you never realize either. His favorite is to cup your chin and lift your head to look at him and comment that your reaction just now was very alluring. It will leave you flustered, without a doubt.

When Rook deems it time to confess, he plays the long con. He’ll be leaving handwritten poems on your pillowcase (a little creepy when you wake up and see a wax-sealed envelope by your head, but at least you know there’s only one person who could pull that off). You’ll find them in your textbook on the exact page you need to open up to in class, and once you found one tucked in Grim’s bow on the back of his head, rolled up like a little scroll. The poor cat didn’t even notice until you took it off. When you finally bring it up to Rook, he’s going to smile and laugh, telling you it’s just him expressing his love to you, and is a bit saddened you haven’t tried breaking into his own dorm to leave a love letter. At this point, there’s no denying what he wants, and if you accept, be prepared for more letters in the future.

Rook doesn’t permanently stalk you, but he has a good hunter’s intuition. When he feels the need, he’ll seek you out during the day. Normally it’s when you’re needing him most, and he’s always there in a heartbeat. Some Savanaclaw students manage to corner you after class because you accidentally stepped on someone’s tail? Well, their tail is now tucked between their legs because Rook is standing right behind you with that calm smile and a hand on your shoulder. It’s a clear threat when he does this, and they’ll back off. Rook does have a reputation as a competent weirdo, and they want nothing to do with it.

Sometimes Rook will steal you away from your activities. You’ll be hanging out with Jack and Epel when Rook pops up and scoops you up bridal style. He’ll apologize to his underclassman and explain he needs to borrow the prefect for an undisclosed amount of time before leaving. He’ll take you somewhere nice and tell you poetry or even ask about your day and hang off your every word as he plays with your hand. He just needed to be with you at that exact moment, and he was going to cherish his time.

He’ll begin teaching you a bit about hunting with simple things, like bird watching and being able to tell if something is going on elsewhere by how they move. He’d love it if you wanted to try archery. Don’t worry; he’d never force you to hunt living things if that’s now what you’re about. He will find it fun to get little props of fake monsters and see if you can shoot them. Complementing you even if you miss your target dramatically. He will also invite you to his own outings as he stalks students and teaches lessons on being more observant. You probably won’t get to his level, he knows when you're irritated by how your breathing changes, for goodness' sake, but you might be able to pick up some handy skills.

Rook does enjoy partaking in PDA to an extent. He doesn’t want to vex his house warden by pulling down the dorm's reputation, but things like entwining your fingers with his own are common. Even kisses on the back of your hand or cheek in the hallway are a favorite of his. If you have hair that falls into your face, he’s often pushing the strands back so he can look into your eyes and tell you how they swim with curiosity and how lovely they look on you.

He is your protector, so if there’s ever a time when you’re most vulnerable, he’ll be with you. Nap time is never taken without him. You’re just so exposed, and it’s easy to take advantage of you, so he stays with you. He’ll always claim he’s joining in napping with you, even curling up and cradling you in his arms. He’ll never fall asleep, though; he’ll just look at you as you sleep and smile at himself. If you snore or sleep talk, he is mentioning it and how endearing it is. “Mon Trésor, you sound beautiful even at rest.”

Epel Felmier

Epel doesn’t know much about romance. He knows how the older couples in his hometown act around one another, but all of them have been together for so long he’s never seen love when it starts to bloom. He’s going to be confused about how his heart skips a beat when he’s around you or how he finds you more breathtaking than even Vil. He might even consult romance novels to help him figure things out (as much as he loathes the idea). He’s going to be doing it in private, though; the last thing he needs is someone (Rook) discovering his newfound genre interest.

Epel enjoys private time spent with you at Ramshackle. Even if Grim is there being a butt, he’s in a place with no expectations. He can be himself, speak in his own dialect, and joke around. It’s probably why he came to like you so much; you accepted this with stride. You never commented about how he says things or his short temper. Just roll with it and let it happen. As long as you’re not telling him how cute his quirks are, he’s more than happy to express himself like this around you.

Sadly for Epel, nothing gets past his Vice House Warden. Rook has probably seen him checking out those romance novels at the library and seeing how he’s always sneaking off to see you. Rook can’t help but tell Vil how adorable it is to see such young love blossoming with their very own cherry apple. The moment Vil gets wind, he’s calling for Epel and cornering him. So begins lessons of romance with Vil and Rook, as well as how to properly treat your significant other. Just what Epel always wanted…more lessons. At least he learns a thing or two from these ones and better ways to impress you (hopefully).

It’s easy to see the slight change in Epel’s demeanor. He’s now opening doors for you, offering to carry things for you, asking if you’d like to go places he’ll be paying for (even if he really doesn’t have the money for it). He’ll even begin giving you presents, mainly carved apples though, since it’s something he can do for free and he knows it’ll always impress you. Compliment him for being such a gentleman. Sure he wants to be rough and tough, but being a gentleman can also be manly. Not to mention he loves compliments from you and soaks them up.

No matter what, don’t confess to Epel first. He wants to be the one to do it. He doesn’t know much about romance, but he knows the man is normally the one to ask out people for dates and even propose first. Don’t take the moment from him. When he finds the time is right, probably at Ramshackle over dinner, he’ll ask you. It’s going to stutter over words and become as red as the apples his family grows, but he’ll manage to get through it. Saying yes might make him malfunction slightly, but he’s happy and will be proud to be called “Your Man.”

Epel likes you take you out places for dates. He’d rather they not be near his dorm or Vil or Rook. He wants to be himself and not worry about mannerisms. He’ll still remember his little lessons and try to act the part of a suave gentleman, though, while also trying to show off a bit. Suggest some activities to do with him that require physical effort, and he’s down. At some point, he might even think it’s a good idea to pick you up. He doesn’t have the most muscle, though, so assure him he doesn’t need to before he drops you and is ashamed for the next year.

The best dinner dates are at Ramshackle. You get takeout food, or even if you know how to BBQ (or you order some), then it’s game on. Hopefully, you have a TV or laptop to curl onto the couch and watch some movies with him as well. The night will devolve into making jokes. Watch a cheesy romance, and you two will be pointing out every stupid thing in it. Epel will find a new love for Rom-Coms with you as well if you suggest them. Just probably don’t watch horror movies that are gory?

If you’re down, then during one of the holiday breaks, he’s going to drag you to his grandparent’s farm. He wants to introduce you and show you off to them, as well as show you around the farm. Hope you like apple pie because it’s a featured dish his grandma will be making, and she will probably make an extra one at the end of the break for you to take back to your dorm.

Epel is going to be showing you how to climb the many trees in the orchard, and for good reason. Near sunset, at the top of an apple tree…there’s something magical about it. You see extraordinary things on a daily basis, but there’s something about how the sun hits Epel’s face as he looks into the sunset that is just breathtaking. If you haven’t already, be expecting your first kiss with him to happen here. He certainly did learn a thing or two from those romance books and movies. It would seem as if the setting is just perfect. His face will have a dusting of red afterward, but he might pull you into another kiss, so you don’t see it.

PDA is strictly prohibited due to Vil. Well…most PDA. Nothing is going to stop Epel from wrapping an arm around you as you make it to your next class. He wants the entire school to understand that you’re taken, and it’s by him. You’re probably secretly popular due to how unique you are, so seeing some jealous stares at Epel gives him a confidence boost. Like, “Hey, look, they chose me. The manliest of guys at this school. The coolest kid.” If he can get away with it, he’ll leave you with a small kiss at the door of your class before heading to his own. If Vil finds out, he’s dead meat, but it’s worth it to see you placing a hand over your lips with a blush.

#Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST #TWST x Reader #TWST Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland Disney #TWST Disney #Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader #Rook Hunt #Rook Hunt x Reader #Rook x Reader #Epel Felmier #Epel Felmier x Reader #Epel x Reader

[hollowtones]

do you have any tips for . getting motivated to learn to cook? i am struggling but i really want to enjoy good foods made by me…

Start small. Start simple. Do stuff that requires minimal prep and few ingredients. That way you have more energy to spend on practicing technique because you're spending less energy worrying about everything else. Bake a potato. Make a simple pasta. Make a salad. Put a can of beans in a pan with some spices and a bit of garlic. Make oatmeal. Cook an egg. Fry up a grilled cheese. Find a veggie side dish you like and see how you can make a simple version of it. You know yourself better than me. Think about what you like & how you can make it fun to make something for yourself.

If the issue is "where do I start? how do I start?" The websites I tend to look recipes up on are Serious Eats and The Omnivore's Cookbook. There's other good sites out there, but there's also a lot of clickbait garbage type stuff (like with anything else out there, I suppose), so you might need to do some looking around.

If the issue is "how do I actually do any of this?" One of my favourite Guys Who Do Cooking Stuff Online is J. Kenji López-Alt & he does a lot of POV videos where he cooks & talks about the technique & ingredient substitutions and stuff. He does a buncha writing for Serious Eats, too. Another channel I like is Internet Shaquille, which also generally focuses on technique & learning & approachability to cooking. I have spent a lot of time looking at various channels on YouTube related to cooking and there are a lot of them ranging from "useless if you are new" to "useless if you are on a budget" to "this is a long-form advertisement" to "this guy's just miserable to listen to". There's more than just two good video resources out there, obviously, but these are two that I like.

If your issue is "but this seems like so much work?" Well... sometimes it is. Try focusing on individual steps if that stresses you out (it stresses me out on some days, too). Also, get into the habit of cleaning your dishes / kitchen ASAP. I don't have much specific advice to offer on that other than Find Out How To Make It A Habit For Yourself. But making sure you have a clean & empty sink / a loaded dishwasher by the end of the day makes things less of a slog in my experience. You know your own capabilities and energy levels better than I do, and you ought to know there's no shame or no wrong-doing in getting help, or getting certain things pre-made or pre-cooked, or anything like that. Anyone who tells you otherwise is probably projecting, or a dickhead, or trying to sell you something.

I know some of this kind of amounts to "well just try it". But genuinely, just try things out. Try not to be too discouraged by failure. Mistakes are a learning experience for next time, and often cooking mistakes are recoverable, and sometimes cooking mistakes let you accidentally discover something you like. (The number of times I've fucked up eggs over-easy made me realize I like it when the yolks are broken up & they're just kinda soft and lightly scrambled. LOL)

[ahses2ahes]

Sun Rays

Pairing: Duke Leto Atreides x reader, kingdom/18th century AU.

Warnings: arranged marriage, language, chasing. There isn’t much really.

Summary: After your father tells you that you’re too be married off to some Duke you choose to spend most of your time horse back riding and the rest arguing with your father. That is, until you meet the Duke and he makes quite the deal.

Photos from Pinterest and Leto is from Dune. You obviously belong to yourself.

You had always been a wild being, something your father disapproved of. Especially as a Duke. You could care less, though, preferring to feel the wind whip through you hair as you rode the back of your horse and race through the trees with some of the stable boys.

You were rough and tough for a royal, lacking proper manners and in need of a serious reality check. That is why your father chose to have you engaged to a man about two decades older than you. A Duke from a land you knew nothing of except its barrenness and sand.

You had fought with your father constantly about it, taking any chance to bring it up at dinner or council meetings you found oh so boring to attend. He was insistent, though. He believed you needed to marry someone respectable and learn to become a proper person of the court.

You hated the idea, even now as you prepped your horse for a ride. You had gotten word that your husband to be had arrived and you did not feel like meeting him. So you had decided to sneak away and out of your formal attire down to the stables and into your riding gear.

Now you were with your dark stallion, placing on his saddle and closing it right around him.

“Is this any way to great your future husband?” a voice rang from the entrance of the stables.

You turned your head to see Duke Leto himself and for a second your eyes widened.

You had heard the man was attractive and while it was true, you didn’t expect him to be this attractive. He was rugged and wore a head of neatly combed back grey and black hair. A full beard adorned his face along with two beautiful dark eyes that held years of wisdom, but didn’t show a single worry. A smile also graced his slightly pale lips. His walk was just as elegant and sophisticated as he looked, his steps nearing you quite quickly.

No matter how beautiful he was, though, you could not forget your anger towards him.

“I have no interest in speaking to you,” your words were harsh as you pulled a strap on the saddle of your horse a little too roughly.

“Please, my dear, let us talk, there must be something we can work out,” the Duke said as he placed a hand on the small of your back.

Anger sparked through you quickly and you smacked his hand off of you.

“There is nothing to speak of with you, I will not marry you simply because my father told me to!”

He raised a brow, before a smug smirk crossed his face. God, it was hot.

“How about a wager then,”

The offer had piqued your interest, you straightened yourself out, turning to look at him with a brow quirked upwards.

“What would that be?”

“I get to choose a horse and we race. If I manage to catch you before the sun sets, you shall marry me. If you are able to stay away, I shall leave and never even look back.”

“Done,” you say quickly, spitting in your hand and sticking it out. An attempt to gross out the Duke.

He did indeed look a little disgusted, but he took your hand in his leather clad one, shaking it firmly.

With that, you both began to prepare, you even helped him pick out a good horse, one that could match the abilities of yours. By the time you were both ready, it was just after the beginning of evening.

“So, I start and you have to wait ten minutes to start the chase,” you said, as you looked over the greenery you had grown so fond of.

“And neither of us are allowed to leave,” Leto reminded “If we do then whoever has left is the immediate loser.”

I nod my head and look at him.

“Ready?” Leto nods in response.

“On your marks,” you say

“Get set,” Leto continues for you

“Go!” You both scream in unison.

With that you are off, faster than a flash of lightening. Hooves thunder the ground and trample the small plants that lie in your path. You ride and ride till your horses’ breathing is heavy. That is when you choose to stop.

You let him breathe by a stream and you stay there for several minutes letting your racing heart calm as you think.

Leto was quite the different man than you had expected. You expected him to force this marriage upon you and give you no say, but no. He was giving you this way out even though he likely knew how skilled of a rider you were and how well you knew this forest.

You continued to sit there thinking till you heard the thunder of something. You were confused for a second before you saw Leto, on his golden mare stomping towards you.

“Shit shit shit shit shit,” you mumble out as you quickly climb onto your steed and zoom off.

You can feel that his hand just narrowly misses your shoulder before you zoom off. You thunder through the water, him jumping over it and staying close on your heels. You zoom through the trees hoping to take some sort of turn and loosen his trail on you, but it’s of no use, he stays hot on you.

“How the hell are you doing this?” You yell to the man behind you.

“You never asked of my experience in hunting and tracking!” He said with a mischievous chuckle.

You continue to ride, evading him through the trees. It was so close to sunset! Just a little more time!

You continue to ride, thundering north. He manages to get right next to you, his hand reaching over to wrap around your waist. You quickly pull off to the left and avoid him, but he is quick to follow. You now thunder east towards the palace. The sun is almost below the horizon. You ride and ride and as you see the clearing with the last of suns you cheer to yourself. You are too soon, though, because Leto is at your side again.

You watch as the rays continue to shrink and as you reach the edge of the first. Suspense is building in your chest as you watch the sun continue to tuck itself away. Just a little bit more!

His hand is reaching back towards you now, almost touching you. You’re almost there dear god you are almost there.

Just as the front of your horse is out of the forest, you feel yourself being taken off of your horse, the last rays of sun set.

“Fuck!” You cry out as you watch your horse stop at the edge and the horse you are now slowly halting.

Leto chuckles and pats the side of your waist that he holds.

“I believe this means I’ve won dear,”

#leto atreides #duke leto x reader #leto atreidas x reader #dune #oscar issac #x reader #writing

[daydreamgoddess14]

Everything More Than Anything pt. 3

Sydney Adamu x Carmy Berzatto - R rated 🔥 (not this chapter - boooo!)

Full Masterlist

Sydcarmy Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Who wants to spend 7 hours at the hospital?!

(I just said to myself that if I post this chapter then I really, really need to get my ass moving on Chapter 4... and then proceeded to post this so I'm going to get on with 4 now, promise!)

~~~~~

Chapter 3

They drove in silence towards the hospital, Syd’s head immediately beginning to refill with restaurant stuff and now also Carmy stuff. She could feel his eyes on her as he kept looking over to her. His phone buzzed in the center console, 

"Would you mind checking that?" He asked. She picked it up, 

"Looks like it's from Pete?"

"Passcode is 1234."

"Wow, you're crying out to get mugged, dude."

"I have no money and nothing to hide, so," he shrugged with a wry smile as she unlocked his phone. 

"Pete said 'nothing happening just yet but Nat needs Mountain Dew and Reeses.' Girl, I hear you."

"There's a 24 hour place near the hospital." The car lurched to the left, "the fuck?" Carmy pulled over and jumped out. Syd heard a dull thud on the roof as Carmy’s hand whacked the metal. She nudged the window down, 

"You good?"

"We got a flat. I need to call trip A." She stepped out of the car, 

"Do you have a spare?"

"Not a fucking clue, Richie's probably sold it." She opened the trunk, cleared away some of the crap inside and lifted the carpet panel. She held her breath and could feel Carmy doing the same next to her. Tucked into the recess, she was relieved to see the spare tire, a jack and a wrench.

"Thank fuck he didn't." She sighed. He pulled the tire out and they got to work replacing the flat. 

"You know how to do this?" He asked, impressed. 

"OK, so quick story time, my mom and dad went on a date once - like they hadn't been dating for long, and he got a flat. He had no clue what he was doing so he made out like it was something serious," He jacked the car up while she loosened the bolts, "she got out the car, changed the flat in, like, seconds and then got back in as if nothin' had happened. My dad was totally stunned," he pulled the flat off and she replaced it with the spare, "her dad was a mechanic and he had no idea. So once he'd learned how to do it himself, dad made sure I knew how to do it as well." Carmy tightened the bolts.

"Sounds like she made a big impression on him."

"She did. There's never been anyone else for him, even after all this time." They jumped back into the car and Carmy eased back onto the road. 

"No one from his dance classes?"

"Dance classes, quiz team, poker nights, work, family friends… you name it. He refuses to be set up with anyone. He says I'm like her."

"Determined?"

"Good at changing a flat." She joked. Within minutes, he'd pulled up at the 24 hour store. Syd piled handfuls of candy and sodas into his arms as he followed her around the store, noting that she'd picked up both of their favorites as well as Nat's. "Right, let's go wait for your niece or nephew to be fashionably late?"

~~~~~

Fashionably late was an understatement. Syd was certain that she'd sat in the cold, uncomfortable plastic chairs for so long that she'd imagined everything that had happened in the office. It was all some sleep deprived fever dream her mind had conjured up to taunt her with. Fueled by sour gummy sweets, she'd arranged for Tina and Connor to run prep that morning. If the baby hadn't arrived before lunch service, she'd planned to take Carmy's car to the restaurant and work alongside Richie. The evening would have to wait until later to figure out. While she tried to decide if the images in her mind from earlier were a dream or a memory, she felt him stir next to her in the seat. His head had fallen into the curve of her neck while he'd slept. She felt the brush of his nose behind her ear, followed by a kiss. 

"D'ya sleep?"

"No. I sorted out tomorrow. Today. Whatever, it's covered til this evening at least and I'll burn that bridge when I get to it." He slumped in the chair and checked messages from Richie asking for an update. 

"Richie?"

"I spoke to him while you were asleep, he knows what's happening. Can I ask you something?" He turned to face her, a small nod urging her to continue. "Were you really coming to see me that night?" A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

"Yeah. I uh, I'd been thinking since the walk-in about How good we were. How good you were. Or are now, I guess. I was gonna go all in on," he gestured between them, "all of this - the restaurant, the stars. I needed you to know that you have my full focus."

"At 3am?"

"It was important to me that you knew."

"Looks like we were on the same page." 

"As usual. You should sleep. I'll see if Pete wants to switch." He yawned. 

"I'm OK. You wanna go change, take a shower?"

"With you?" He asked, hopefully. 

"Alone. For now. If Pete needs a break too, someone needs to be here for Nat." She smiled shyly. "But, y’know, good to know that earlier wasn't some weird fucking delirious dream."

"I'm gonna need to hear more about these dreams -" 

"Hey guys, Nat's asked me to take a break. I’m stressing her out." Pete came out with a tired smile before Carmy could say anymore. 

"You need to eat something, and you need to sleep for a couple hours." Syd told him

"Ahh I don't want to leave her for too long." 

"You don't have to," Carmy assured him. "I'll get you back here in an hour if you wanna skip the sleep part?" He looked torn.

"Dude, you can't look after Nat if you're starving and exhausted." Syd warned him. 

"You're right. And you'll stay?"

"I'm not going anywhere." She promised. 

"I'll go tell her." He said gratefully. When they'd been left alone again, Carmy turned to Syd.

"Sure you're good to stay? Thought you hated hospitals?"

"Well turns out the Berzatto's are very persuasive."

"We can be."

"And Nat has called me a genius before so I feel like she already likes me more than you." 

“That’s guaranteed. You don’t piss her off half as much as I do.” He checked over her shoulder for Pete’s reappearance before kissing her softly. “You need anything?” As if on command, her stomach rumbled loudly. 

“Food, please.” She sniggered, hiding her face in his collar. “What time is it? What meal is it?” She checked her phone to see 4am glaring at her.

“I’ll find you something, I’ll be back with breakfast.” He gave her some space as Pete returned with his coat, barely noticing their proximity.

“OK, let’s make this quick.” He sighed, “thanks Sydney.”

“No problem, Pete. I’ll see you guys later.” She went straight in to Nat, not wanting to leave her on her own purely so she could watch Carmy leave.

~~~~~

The tired blond smiled as she entered, but the toll of the evening was written all over her face. “Oh, Nat.” Syd sighed. “How you holding up?”

“Thank god you’re here. Pete’s great but I need to vent and he’s just being too nice. I feel like I can’t even yell at him, it’s like kicking a puppy.”

“I’m all yours, have at it.”

“I fucking hurt all over and I’m so fucking tired and I swear to god if someone doesn’t pull this baby from my fucking body right now then it can just fucking stay there and I’ll go back to work and it just stays there forever.” She growled as another contraction gripped her.

“Wow. OK, if that’s what you wanna do then I’ll bust you outta here right now. We’ll get back to work, help Tina with prep and get you serving tables by lunchtime?” Nat glared at her. “Can you even get up? Will they let you?”

“I’m not really clear on what I can do, no one is telling me anything except ‘be patient, baby will get here when they’re ready’. Be patient? Be fucking patient?”

“Are you hooked up to any machines or anything?” Syd looked around the bed but couldn’t see anything. “Doesn’t look like it. Wanna go for a walk?” Nat looked up suddenly,

“Really? Pete didn’t think it was a good idea.” She frowned.

“Your body, your rules. What’s it telling you?” 

“To stretch my legs.”

“So let's do it.” Syd held out her hands and Nat turned on the bed so that her feet hung over the side. She wiggled further forward on the bed, hanging onto Syd’s hands until her wooly socked feet hit the ground. She beamed at Syd, instantly looking more relaxed. “There’s the Nat I know. Come on, we’ll just have a little walk around this little area.” Syd propped open the door with a chair and held out her arm for Nat to take her elbow. They walked slowly through the deserted corridors to the elevators, past the nurses station, to the vending machines and back again doing a little loop. They paused occasionally for Nat’s contractions, but she didn’t want to stop. 

“Thought you were gonna get bed sores from sittin’ down all day!” A nurse called out as she passed them on their third loop. 

“I ditched the overprotective husband for an hour.” Nat smiled.

“Told you a walk would feel good. I was about to come and get you up anyway. Mind if I have a feel?” She gestured to Nat’s bump, Nat shrugged in agreement as the nurse placed her firm hands on Nat’s stomach. “Feels good, I think baby will be a little more energized after a walk.” She confirmed. “Head back if you feel unwell, I’m not birthing this baby in a corridor though, yeah?” Nat agreed and they carried on walking.

“How’s it feel?” Syd asked.

“Y’know Christmas?” Nat grimaced as they paused again, 

“Uhh yeah?”

“When you have to move fucking everything in your house to make room for a gigantic fucking tree that just sits there for weeks and then you have to get rid of it and put all the furniture back to where it was before?”

“Yeah?”

“Like that.”

“That’s fucked, Nat.” Syd laughed. Her loud laugh in the quiet corridor made Nat laugh until she was doubled over and clinging to Syd. 

“Oww! Fuck, OK no more laughing.”

“Yep, no more. Wanna head back to bed?”

“Yeah, time to take this fucking Christmas tree down.” They giggled as Syd guided Nat back past the elevators and to her room. Back in the room, Nat spotted a yoga ball that had been shoved in a corner, “lemme at that thing.” Syd placed it behind Nat and held it in place with her feet, using her hands to guide Nat to sit on the ball. She bounced gently on the spot,

“Yeah?” “Yeah, feels good.”

“Good. Let’s hope that was a good enough eviction notice.” They talked quietly while Nat bounced on the birthing ball, with Syd explaining the plans for the fall menu and the expected visit from Luca. 

“He’s cute, if I remember correctly?” Nat asked, distracting herself from the pain of another contraction.

“I’ve seen him once on a video call with Marcus, but he’s not bad I guess? Those are getting much closer together by the way.”

“Yeah they are. Is he single?” 

“How the hell should I know, Nat?” Syd laughed, checking the time on her phone against Nat’s contractions.

“I’m just pointing out that you don’t need to live like a nun! It’s still months before we’ll hear anything about the Michelin guide or James Beard. Months is plenty long enough for you to relax a little.”

“Every two minutes. I’m not gonna take my eye off the ball. Not a chance. He’s here for a week, I don’t have the energy to be not-dating someone who lives in Denmark.” 

“It’d be a shame to let that kinda cute pass you by?” Nat giggled, pausing halfway through for a contraction.

“Who’s cute?” Pete asked, coming through the open door, “nice ball.”

“You are, honey. Thanks, Syd found it for me. We’ve been gently encouraging this baby towards the exit and I think -” she held up her hand,

“Deep breath, Nat. It’s gonna pass, just hold on a couple more seconds.” Syd held Nat’s other hand as Pete hovered nervously and Carmy watched from the doorway.

“It’s working.” Nat finished her previous sentence. “It’s close, there’s hardly a break now.”

“I know, very close. I’m gonna call for the nurse, Pete, you wanna help Nat get wherever she’s comfortable?”

“On the ball. Staying here, don’t make me move, Syd?”

“You don’t need to move babe, it’s ok. Pete’s got you now, OK? I’m gonna get your nurse and we’ll see you really soon.” She kissed Nat’s cheek as she got up from the floor and patted Pete’s arm reassuringly. “She wants to move around.” She muttered to Pete in warning before pulling Carmy away from the door and closing it behind them.

“New career?”

“Fuck off,” she laughed, “I need to find a nurse.” She looked both ways down the corridor and headed to the nurses station where she caught the nurse who’d seen them earlier, “It’s go time. Contractions are about a minute and a half apart, she’s on the birthing ball and she wants to stay there.” Syd explained.

“That sounds perfect, I’m on my way. Nice work!” The nurse beamed at her. She and Carmy made their way back to the hard plastic seats and he handed her a breakfast sandwich.

“Oh my god, this looks insane.” Her eyes lit up as she unwrapped the wax paper. “Did you eat?” She asked through her first mouthful. He nodded,

“Showered, changed, let Pete sleep for maybe 30 minutes and then grabbed food on the way back.” 

“Perfect timing, that baby is, like, literally about to arrive.” “You both seemed pretty calm about it?”

“Just trying to keep her busy, talking about other stuff. I’m not saving you any of this, by the way.” She held up her sandwich.

“Heard, Chef. Talking about Luca?”

“She thinks I should ask him out or something.”

“Or something? What’dyou think about that?” He asked curiously. She finished her sandwich and sat back in the seat.

“I think I’m way too busy.” She shrugged. “I’m shadowing this amazing chef, working all the hours I can, I don’t have any spare time at all.” He smiled bashfully and bumped her with his shoulder.

“Good.”

“Good.” She leaned into him and he scrolled through his phone, showing her the pictures he’d taken of the place he’d brought her breakfast from, the messages he and Richie had exchanged about Nat being in the hospital and the Bear group chat which had a bunch of good luck messages for Natalie and Pete. It wasn’t long before Pete emerged, a blissful smile on his face.

“Well?” Carmy asked, sitting bolt upright.

“It’s a girl,” he grinned, his eyes filling with tears, “a little girl! She’s so tiny, she’s 7lbs exactly, she has so much dark blond hair! And blue eyes,” Syd felt her heart fill with love at just hearing about the baby in the next room. “She arrived about an hour ago. Guys, I’m so in love. She’s just being measured and dressed while Nat takes a shower, give it a few minutes and you can come in.” Pete held out his hand to shake but Carmy, tears making their way down his cheeks, pulled the taller man into a hug. 

"That's amazing, dude. Amazing." He dragged a hand down his face. 

"How's Nat?" Syd asked, 

"She's OK. Exhausted, took a lot longer than we thought. I mean, I called you guys at, like, midnight? You've been here for about 7 hours, I'm so sorry." Pete looked torn between guilt and relief.

"Don't be, we wouldn't have missed it." She reassured him, Carmy nodded in agreement. 

"We'll get some sleep before service, Tina's got prep covered."

"Well, we'll be here most of the day I think. I know Nat wants to go home today though."

"Let us know when you're home and we'll come over with some food." Carmy suggested, Syd couldn't help her tired mind lingering on the consistent use of us and we throughout the exchange. 24 hours without sleep - the majority of it spent on her feet and working - she could feel tiredness creeping into her bones. 

"Yeah, that's great. I'd better get back in there, I'll give you a shout when we're ready for you?" He made his way back to Nat and the baby. Syd dug around in her pocket for change for the coffee machine until a five dollar bill was waved in her eye line. 

"Aha, thanks Carm." She fumbled with the machine to get a drink for each of them and then slumped back in her seat. "What's the plan?"

"Back to mine, if you want? Sleep, and then get to the restaurant just before service. Work through, then ditch the farmer's market and sleep instead tomorrow?"

"Promise?"

"Might need to wake up eventually to make something for Nat and Pete, but otherwise, fuck yes."

"I'm just gonna call my dad. Let him know." She pulled out her phone and hurriedly gave him the basics before he left for work. She was just ending the call as Pete came back for them. She pushed Carmy ahead of her with her hand in the small of his back, sensing his apprehension. She could feel him relax against her once he saw Nat smiling at him through tears, 

"Come meet baby bear," she urged them both as they crept into the room. "This is Mila. Mila, this is Uncle Carmy and Auntie Syd." Syd held her breath as she peered over Carmy's shoulder to see the baby, hand still firmly on his back. "Wanna hold her?"

"You first," Carmy suggested, sidestepping to let her in. 

"No fucking way dude, she's your niece."

"What if I do it wrong?" He hissed. Nat was already holding Mila out to him, prompting him to raise his elbow like this and put his other hand like that. She settled the baby into his arms, "Hi sweet girl," he whispered finally, staring at her with matching stormy blue eyes and dark blond curls. 

"The Berzatto genes are strong, sorry Pete!" Syd smiled, 

"No complaints here, she looks like her mama." 

"She's gorgeous," Syd brushed her index finger against Mila's tiny hand and the baby opened her fist to grip the finger. "Same blue eyes as you," she said to Carmy. After a few minutes, he handed the baby to her and she took in the mess of curls and sleepy eyes, "so do all Berzatto's look the same when they're born?" Nat smiled softly, 

"From what I remember of our three baby pictures, yeah."

"Well if it helps, you all grow up pretty cute too. How're you feeling?" 

"Tired, I swear when we called Carmen she was about to arrive. Then everything just stopped for so long, thank you for waiting."

"Of course. Hopefully they'll let you go home later."

"God I hope so, I'd rather do this from my own fucking bed." Nat sighed. Mila grew restless in Syd's arms so she passed her back to Nat. "She'll need feeding again I think."

"We'll leave you guys to it, let you get some rest." Carmy kissed Nat's cheek. "I'll call you later."

~~~~~

#sydcarmy #sydcarmy fic #sydcarmy fanfic #syd x carmy #carmy x syd #carmy x sydney #carmen x sydney #syd adamu #syd x carmen #sydney adamu #sydney x carmy #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear fic #the bear fx #the bear

[alfredosauce50]

Dropping by here just to say that I really adore your writing!! I especially loved Who's The Bad Guy and your general headcanons for 1P America. Speaking of which, if requests are open, can we get NSFW HCs for Alfred? Thank you so so much in advance!!! 💖💖

Thank you! That story is definitely a fan favorite, even if it’s my oldest work. It feels like it’s in the past for me (affectionately and nostalgically) but not for the people reading it <3 Requests aren’t open, and probably won’t be for a while. I’ve piled up on my own stories that I really want to finish, so they gotta be put on the back burner. But, as we all know, Alfred, Allen, and Mathias are getting their own series because they’re the golden boys of this blog. And I usually make exceptions for them, especially for essentials 😼

Content warning: Heavy sexual themes. R18+ only.

NSFW America headcanons

With Alfred, everything comes down to the mood. He’s not always thinking about getting it on, but given the right time and place, his mind will wander. When that happens, anything can turn him on. Was it something you said? Or something you did? Whatever it was, he’ll be dying to blow off some steam, and he won’t hesitate to let you know.

His libido is more balanced than his 2p counterpart. But Alfred is, by far, the bigger pervert out of the pair. If you’re relaxed around him or walk around without being decent, he will sneak a peek. If you aren’t looking, he will stare. He can keep a straight face even when he’s stripping you in his mind and thinking about putting something between your legs. If you ask him what he’s doing, he will walk over and say, “waiting for you. What are you doing?”

Yes, he wears glasses. No, his eyesight isn’t as bad as you think it is. That makes it easier to hide where he’s looking, but by the slim chance you do catch him, he won’t lie about it. Not that he’d admit it either. If you call him out, he’ll just go,“maybe.”

Alfred is unpredictable. He can go from an excitable puppy to serious in seconds. After spending a day together, humoring his whims and doing what he asks, he won’t want you to leave. If you do so little as smile at him, or better yet, tug his arm for him to walk you to the door, you aren’t going anywhere. He will grab your wrist and ask, “do you really wanna go home?”

He’s a force to be reckoned with when he’s turned on. You might try kissing him goodbye, but he’s insatiable. Alfred will put his lips on yours, again and again, until you’re lightheaded. If you cover his mouth with a hand, he’s not above licking and biting it until you pull away. He’ll dive back in and pick you up by your legs. The second he feels your thighs squeeze his hips, he’s popping a fast, hard boner. While he darts his restless eyes over your flushed face, he pants this over you. “Let’s fuck.”

Alfred is rough at first. He’s impatient and horny, so all he can think about is pounding you until sweet release. And he does, sticking it in after a hasty prep. Penetration can hurt, but it’s only the beginning. He’ll pick you up and bounce you on his cock as hard as he can. You’re moaning and gasping, begging him to slow down, and it turns him on past the brink of sanity. In his lust-fueled mania, he will hold you against the bedroom door to hear it bang to his hard thrusts.

The location feels ‘in-between’ to him, so it’s a glaringly erotic reminder of how bad he needs it. Coupled with the sound of wet skin-slapping, he’s tempted to go faster and harder until he cums. After shooting his hot loads in you, his gunk will be dripping down your legs. He won’t pull out and use his semen as lube to keep fucking you. He just has to get hard again, which is easy while he’s kissing you.

He’s a natural dirty-talker. When he whispers at you, every word gets you aching for him. He will say things like “don’t look away from me, okay?” and “you like that?” If you’re squeezing too hard on his dick, he will tell you to relax a little. On the other hand, hearing you speak for a change will get him to lose all sense of control. Especially when you tell him to put his hands on you.

He enjoys slow sex. It’s perfect for when he needs a break, but doesn’t want to pull out. Alfred will loom over you and show a floaty smile while he rolls his hips. He can focus on the feeling of your warm insides, every squeeze and pull of it, which he finds endlessly intimate. But it’s the thought of being connected to you that sends strong twitches down his cock.

He’s obsessed with your thighs. Alfred will squeeze and fondle them with every chance he gets; if not, he’ll put his mouth all over them. When he eats you out on the edge of the bed, crush his head between them. The harder, the better. He won’t help rubbing himself out while you squeeze him, and won’t stop until he cums.

He has a habit of slapping his dick on you. He does it over where he plans to penetrate, and will rub himself on it too. Alfred does it for fun, but if you ask him about it, he says he’s “ringing a bell.”

Alfred loves doing it doggy-style. The position takes ‘fucking like animals’ to another level. He’s mounting you from behind, pulling your arms back, and pounding you hard. It’s carnal, brutish, and unapologetically raw, and he can’t get enough. Missionary, cow-girl, and any other front-facing position are also a favorite.

So long as he can get a good view of your body, he’s a happy camper. Alfred is a pervert, and will get off to seeing things like his dick plunging into you, or the sweat running down your chest. While your back arches like a cat, he will lean in and lap your skin to catch the warm, salty beads. It has the lewd taste of sex, and isn’t the only part of you he’ll be dragging his tongue all over.

He has a smell kink. Or is it the pheromones? Either way, he has a thing for your scent, and won’t shy away from it when you’re drenched in sweat. He will breathe you in, lick you, and smother his face wherever he pleases.

Alfred loves having you ride him—especially when you try being rough as payback. Unfortunately, he loves it. Not only does it feel amazing, seeing you slow down out of pleasure is insanely hot. Feeling his cock prod against that special spot pushes you to a hard climax, and watching it happen gets him cumming fast.

He has a thing for foot jobs. It’s supposed to be degrading, but that’s why he likes it so much. Once again, it’s frustrating how nothing you do fazes him. Not even if you call him names (asshole, idiot, pervert), kick him, or step on him. No, sir. He’s having the time of his life. Alfred finds your temper sexy, especially when you try taking it out on him. Keyword, try.

Sex with socks on is a big yes. And yet, he still won’t admit that he has a foot fetish.

Sex with clothes on is an even bigger yes. The urgency of it is super hot—if you’re wearing underwear, he’ll sneak a hand under it and move it to the side. He already has his dick out, ready to plunge into your walls. His boxers are down to his thighs, and you’re sitting on his lap, hanging off his neck. While he bounces you on his cock, he’ll be grabbing your ass and thighs.

He has a weakness for sundresses and flimsy underwear. If you show up wearing said dress, he won’t stop staring at you or flirting. What’s underneath is just a bonus. If he has his car with him, he will drive to a secluded spot — an empty parking lot, drive-in cinema, or even the beach — and fuck you in the driver’s seat.

Alfred gets jealous at the drop of a hat. If it’s something minor, he’ll feel better after a kiss or two. Otherwise, he needs more assurance to soothe his jealous heart, even if it’s through angry sex. Angry sex eventually turns into makeup sex, and he’ll feel terrible by the end of it. Cue the endless apologies and sulking.

He’s meticulous with aftercare. He knows he can be rough in bed, so he makes sure you feel cared for when things die down. He’ll cuddle and kiss you, help you wash up, cook for you, and put something on the TV. Post-sex Alfred is the most affectionate he can be. He feels loved after going at it for hours, and won’t hesitate to show it.

#MOONLIGHT BABY #His birthday month is coming soon so happy birthday lol #somebody come get his nasty ass... #thanks for the ask anon #ask answered #aph america #hetalia headcanons #headcanons #America headcanons #hetalia #hetalia fanfiction #america x reader #hetalia x reader #reader insert #request #alfredosauce50 #hetalia fanfic

[inevitably-johnlocked]

so are you on hiatus or still posting or...? what's the deal w/that

Hey Anon...

I'm not sure if you're just joshing me or being silly, or are being serious or whatever but your ask comes off as rude, especially since I try to have a post every half hour or so from 8 AM EST until noon DAILY (since I discovered those are my peak hours), unless I have no content, which y'all provide me with through asks and suggestions. I have posted fic recs EVERY Friday for over 3 years and curate a fic rec list nearly every Sunday unless I take a break / holiday. My blog tags are specifically designed to show me where in the cycle a post is, and, a lot of the "selling" point to this blog is its interactivity (where I check the replies and additions on every post that reblogs each day and I tack it onto the main post).

Granted, I don't post nearly as much as I used to (because it was affecting my mental health, and I have a day job I work between 40 and 60 hours a week with very little free time, and I'm back at the office so I can't post during work hours anymore) so I had to cut my queue back to auto-post 3 posts a day so I don't run out of posts before month's end. I also prep my blog the night before the next day, so I spend anywhere between 2 and 4 hours NIGHTLY, AFTER my day job, to file, answer asks, and schedule posts so that my blog LOOKS active.

AND if no one sends me asks or asks I'm not ready to answer (bad headspace, too long to reply so I save it for another day, etc), then the queue the next day is, admittedly, smaller and instead is about 1 post an hour up until 3 PM EST. All my new posts from asks get answered and posted between 8 AM and 11 AM, unless I have no content / next-day-reblogs, then I slot other asks into the 11 AM until 2 PM slots. I try not to do that on first posting, though, 'cause as I said, my peak hours are early morning so I'd rather have people see those ones first.

When I'm on hiatus, I pin a post to my blog. My Lovelies and Lurkers™ know when I am on Hiatus and are very understanding and know that I am a human being who needs a break once in awhile. I'm sorry I'm not posting up to your standards, Anon, I truly am, but I just physically can't anymore, since like, 90% of my free time is dedicated to either sorting fics or answering asks. And I don't really have the energy to do it at the rate I was doing it when I was working from home. I rarely take a break from this blog as it is.

Perhaps Tumblr has unfollowed you from my blog, which is why you don't see my posts anymore (it has happened, I've had to re-follow people before), but I can assure you, I have new content DAILY unless I have no asks I'm ready to answer. Some days are less than others, because, again, I am only human, and I have no obligation to provide content daily. I do it because I LOVE doing it. But asks like this make me feel like all my work is for naught. *shrugs*

Less is more, Anon. 💜🖤

#steph replies #chatting with nonnies #my blog #tumblr things #i want to give anon benefit of the doubt and is just asking a genuine question #but please know anon that your ask came off EXTREMELY rude and entitled #i spend hours on my lists #and these kind of asks make me feel like shit quite honestly #because i was proud of being 'the fic reccer' in the fandom #so i dunno #anyway #shitposting steph

[chicgeekgirl89]

Happy Campers

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Paul Strickland, Judd Ryder, Mateo Chavez

Rating: T

Summary: When the boys of the 126 decide to spend a weekend camping in the wilderness they're sure they are well prepared for any challenges they might face. Three firefighters, a paramedic, and a cop. What could possibly go wrong?

For the @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt: Poison/Venom

Read on AO3

“Hey! Mateo! D’you put the blue cooler in here?” Judd yelled, eyeing the back of the SUV.

“Yeah, that’s what you said to do,” Mateo said, popping his head up from the bag of fishing gear he was arranging. 

“Yeah, I know what I said, but you gotta put a towel down or something first in case it leaks,” Judd said, pulling it back out again and reaching for a spare beach towel. “See? Keeps it from ruining the floor mats.”

“I thought the point of floor mats was to keep the floor clean,” Mateo said. “What’s the point of covering up the covering?”

“Dude’s got a point,” Paul said, bringing his duffle and fishing rod over. “Where does it end?”

“Look, all I’m sayin’ is, Grace very graciously offered up her car for the weekend so we could all drive together and we need to be respectful,” Judd said, carefully placing Pauls’ duffle alongside the cooler.

“So she doesn’t murder you?” Mateo asked.

Judd nodded. “Exactly.”

“Seems like a good choice then,” Carlos said, handing Judd one of the tent kits so he could continue his game of car packing Jenga. 

This camping trip had been an offhand idea at the bar one night and steadily gained steam as they all managed to find time off to get them an extended weekend out in the wilderness. They had prepped and planed for weeks and they were all excited to hike and fish and sleep out under the stars. 

“Whoa, whoa whoa,” Judd said, holding out a hand as T.K. started to climb in. “You ain’t bringing coffee in this car.”

T.K. looked down at the travel mug in his hand. “It’s herbal tea.”

“Water only. No snacks,” Judd warned them all.

“No snacks?!” Mateo cried “What’s the point of even going if we can’t have road snacks?”

“Listen, unless you’re going to pay for the detailing, nobody is eatin’ or drinkin’ anything other than clear liquids in this car,” Judd said firmly.

“Judd, let the man have his tea,” Grace said as she came out the front door, work bag in hand. “Lord knows he’s gonna need some sustenance for this weekend.”

“I keep telling you we’re gonna be fine,” Judd insisted.

“Mhmm,” Grace said. “So, no ladies this trip?”

“We asked,” Mateo said with a shrug. “They all said ‘hell no.’ I think has to do with the bugs and the dirt.”

“Yeah judging by the character of your ladies, I’m gonna guess it was less about that and more about them not wanting to be around you fools in the wilderness,” Grace said knowingly. “Carlos, you’re going to keep these boys in check the next couple of days, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” Carlos said. “I’ll make sure they get home safe.”

“We don’t need a babysitter,” Paul said closing the trunk of the SUV. “We know exactly what we’re doing.”

“Uh huh,” Grace said skeptically. “Forgive me if don’t think a bunch of city boys can handle themselves in the wilderness.”

“Hey,” T.K. said, “I spent six summers at camp.”

“And some of us ain’t city boys,” Judd said.

“Oh, baby, I know you think you are Bear Grylls, but you grew up in a suburban neighborhood with a white picket fence just like the rest of us. Just cuz you’ve lived in Texas your whole life doesn’t make you a country boy,” Grace said, patting his chest and giving him a peck on the lips. “Ya’ll be safe now, I’m serious.”

“We’ll be just fine,” Paul assured her. “It’s a state park, there will be plenty of other people around. Safe as can be.”

“It better be,” Grace said as she gave them a wave and hopped into Judd’s truck to head to work.

“All right, let’s load up,” Judd ordered. “If we’re gonna make camp before nightfall we need to get a move on.”

“Shotgun!” Mateo yelled, barreling through them all to get to the front seat.

Even with the extra space of the SUV they were a little cramped. Carlos had volunteered for the middle seat and T.K. and Paul were squished in on either side of him, their knees all knocking around as they tried to find a comfortable position.

Carlos ended up pressing his thigh firmly against T.K.’s in an effort to give Paul a little more personal space, but from the look on his boyfriend’s face, he didn’t seem to mind. 

“Should we be offended that your wife thinks we’re not going to survive?” Paul asked as they pulled out of the driveway.

“Nah,” Judd said. “She just underestimates our wilderness skills.”

Personally Carlos was also dubious about their collective wilderness skills. He and Judd had both spent time on family ranches growing up, but the rest of the group were full blown city boys. None of them were truly outdoorsmen in any sense of the word. But the park was well known and they weren’t planning to camp in a particularly remote area. They had a first aid kit and nearly thirty years of first responder training if you added them all together. Nevertheless, Carlos couldn’t help but feel like they might end up calling it quits early.

Despite his trepidation he was looking forward to the weekend. He and T.K. hadn’t seen much of each other lately, work had been crazy for both of them, and his dad had sprained an ankle, so he’d been spending extra time helping out at his parents’ house. It would be nice to have some time together, even if their friends were around too.

“Anybody want jerky?” Mateo pulled a bag out of his backpack, wiggling it back and forth. 

Judd glared at him. “What did I say about snacks in the car?”

“Jerky’s not a snack, it’s sustenance,” Mateo told him calmly, offering the bag to the backseat. 

Paul eyed it warily. “I’m good.”

“T.K.?” 

“Not sure it goes with my tea,” T.K. told him, holding up his mug.

Mateo looked expectantly at Carlos who dutifully reached in and took a piece. He took a bite and immediately regretted it. The thing tasted like dog food, and he had an immediate urges to spit it out, but he forced himself to chew instead. “What do you think?” Mateo asked. “Made it myself. Learned how on TikTok.”

Carlos swallowed. “It’s uh, an interesting flavor.”

Mateo smiled and took a big bite of his own piece. “It’s my proprietary spice blend.”

“Well it smells like ass, so close it back up,” Judd told him as he pulled onto the highway.

“Our friends are fun, aren’t they?” T.K. asked with a smile.

“Pretty sure they were your friends first,” Carlos teased, stealing a sip of T.K.’s tea to try and rid his mouth of the jerky flavor.

“And now we’re family, so you’re stuck with us,” Paul told him with a grin.

Lots of teasing, a few arguments about music choices, and one bathroom stop later they arrived at Bastrop State Park. Judd insisted on parking as far away from everyone else as possible to try and spare Grace any dings or scratches, which resulted in an extra long hike to their campsite with all their gear.

“Nuh uh,” Paul said as Carlos began setting up the tent he’d brought himself and T.K. “You put that tent on the far side of this clearing. We don’t want to hear any shenanigans ya’ll get up to tonight.”

Carlos felt his face flame but tried to laugh it off. “Paul, we’re out in the wilderness and we just spent an hour dragging all this gear in here. I don’t think anybody is going to be up for anything tonight except going to sleep.”

Paul paused putting up his own tent and put his hands on his hips. “I’ve only known T.K. for about five minutes longer than you’ve known him, but the dude is definitely always ‘up’ for you.”

Carlos had thought his face was red already but now it felt like the surface of the sun. “I—“

“Hey babe.” T.K. appeared, his hand immediately going Carlos’ shoulder. “Did we bring sunscreen?”

“Yeah it’s in my backpack,” Carlos told him. 

“Oh, great,” T.K. said, leaning in and capturing his lips in something that was far more than a polite peck and definitely not quite appropriate for the company they were in. T.K.’s smirk was at a ten when he pulled back. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Carlos said, his head a little fuzzy as T.K. went in search of the backpack. His eyes found Paul, who sent him an I-told-you-so look. Carlos swallowed and reached for the tent poles. “I’ll just…”

“Mmhmm,” Paul smiled and pointed. “All the way over there.”

The got the tents up and the campsite settled as darkness began to fall. Mateo had started a fire; it turned out the two years of boy scouts he’d participated in during middle school were handy for something after all. 

Dinner was courtesy of Grace, packets of meat and cheese and vegetables wrapped in tin foil and cooked in the fire. Paul and Judd were busy wrangling some sticks to roast marshmallows and T.K. was cuddled into Carlos’ side, a blanket wrapped around them both to ward off the chill of the night air. 

“I am not singin’ Kumbaya with you,” Judd said as Mateo mentioned it for the third or fourth time, clearly trying to get a rise out of him.

“Just one round,” Mateo said. “It’ll be a bonding activity.”

“I’m about as bonded to you as i want to be,” Judd told him. “Now take this stick and start on some marshmallows.” 

Before long s’mores were in production and they were swapping tales of their most ridiculous calls, each more wild than the last. 

“Bees?” Paul asked incredulously as Carlos finished up a story he would never have believed if he hadn’t seen it himself.

“Bees,” Carlos confirmed. “It was terrible.”

“I once had a teenager who tried to deep fry his hand,” T.K. told them.

“His hand?” Mateo asked in horror. “I mean I did some stupid stuff back in the day, but nothing that stupid.”

“It was very stupid,” T.K. said. “Kind of put me off corn dogs permanently.”

“Yeah I can see that,” Judd said, pulling another gooey marshmallow off his stick.

“I had to save an alligator from a four story walk up,” Paul told them.

That got everyone’s attention. “An alligator? In Chicago?” Mateo asked incredulously.

“Illegal pets are big business,” Carlos said knowledgeably. “Is that what happened?”

“Yep,” Paul said. “Building was on fire and the dude refused to leave unless we took the ‘gator with us. Called her ‘Cookie.’”

Judd shook his head as they all laughed. “Some people are just plumb crazy. Ain’t a thing you can do about it.” He checked his watch and got to his feet. “All right boys, time to turn in,” he said. “Fish are gonna be up early. And I would like to take this time to remind everyone that these tents are thin and nobody should do anything that’s going to cause anyone to feel uncomfortable in the morning.”

Carlos was completely mortified, but T.K. grinned. “They make headphones for a reason Judd,” he said cheekily.

“Mhmm,” Judd rolled his eyes and zipped himself into his tent, Mateo and Paul following suit.

“What do you tell them about our sex life?” Carlos asked, infusing his tone with some heat.

“Nothing,” T.K. said as he zipped up their tent. “Well, nothing explicit. What they make up in their own minds is totally on them.”

“Right, the fact that you’re King of Innuendo has nothing to do with it,” Carlos said with a roll of his eyes as he stripped off his pants.

He was busy unzipping his sleeping bag when T.K. tackled him, lips tasting like campfire smoke and marshmallow. It was sweet and warm and Carlos let himself get lost in it. It had been so long since they’d had time together where one of them wasn’t completely exhausted or trying to catch up on things around the condo. He hadn’t even realized how much he missed his boyfriend until this moment.

When T.K.’s hands began to wander Carlos reluctantly broke it off. “Babe we can’t,” he said, trying to keep his voice low. 

“Why not?” T.K. asked, a pout on his face. “It’s been so long, we’re finally alone…” He smirked as his fingers found a very particular spot and Carlos’ breath caught. “And you clearly want to.”

“Everyone will hear,” Carlos managed. “You can’t be quiet.”

“I can’t,” T.K. grinned wickedly. “But you can.”

It turned out Paul had been right. T.K. was always up for Carlos.

XXX

Despite his late night Carlos was the first one up in the morning. The sun hadn’t even risen yet as he crept out of the tent and got the fire started for coffee. It seemed like kind of a waste since they’d have to put it out again before they left, but he knew his night owl of a boyfriend wasn’t going anywhere without it. And he didn’t think anyone else would mind either.

Judd appeared after a few minutes, giving Carlos an appreciative nod as he poured him a cup. He could hear Mateo and Paul stirring as he filled a mug with creamer and just a little bit of sweetener and let himself back into his own tent. 

T.K. was still completely sacked out, an arm thrown over his face, mouth open, ever a chaotic sleeper.

“Hey,” Carlos said softly, giving him a little nudge as he carefully sat down next to him, somehow managing not to spill coffee from either cup. “Time to wake up.”

T.K. let out a groan. “S’too early.”

“Yeah, this is when the fish are out. Come on, everybody else is already getting ready.”

T.K. managed to open an eye and looked up at him. “Let’s just stay here. We’ll be all alone, we can finish what we started last night.”

Carlos shook his head, an amused smile on his lips. “We could. And I would love to. But Judd is really looking forward to showing us all how to fish. It would hurt his feelings.”

“What about my feelings?”

“Your feelings will still be there when we’re actually alone,” Carlos told him. “Come on. Coffee. You’ll feel better.”

It took a lot of cajoling, some promises of things for later, and more coffee, but eventually Carlos got a rumpled, grumpy T.K. up and dressed and ready to head off for a morning of fishing.

Judd turned out to be a good teacher and they managed to catch a half a dozen fish, Paul being the most successful with three decent sized bass. Carlos, Mateo, and Judd caught one apiece and, predictably, T.K. caught nothing but a cat nap against Carlos’ shoulder. 

They grilled their catch for lunch and spent the afternoon in an intense game of corn hole that had to be abandoned for cards when T.K. began to spout accusations of cheating and needed to be physically removed for a half hour to cool off like a toddler.

He was still grumbling about it hours later when they tucked into their tent for the night. “I still say Mateo was cheating.”

Carlos sighed. “T.K. let it go.”

“But—“

“I don’t know how you think someone can cheat at corn hole anyway.”

“His feet weren’t behind the line!”

“It’s a game T.K. Just a friendly game among friends.”

T.K. mumbled something unintelligible from where he’d grumpily wrapped himself up in his sleeping bag. 

“What was that?” Carlos asked.

“Nothing,” T.K. said and Carlos had to bite back a laugh. T.K. was generally such a cheery person that it was funny to see him worked up and in a mood. 

Carlos turned down the lantern and shuffled around until he was lying down on his side next to his boyfriend. “Hey,” he said quietly.

T.K. exhaled through his nose and then turned his head to look at him. “Hey.”

“This trip was a good idea,” he said.

T.K.’s face softened. “You’re having fun?”

Carlos nodded. “We needed this.” He reached over and ran his fingers through T.K.’s hair. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” T.K. said, leaning forward, seeking his lips.

It was slow and soft, and they let it linger to the point that Carlos was pretty sure T.K. was half asleep when he finally pulled back. “Feel better about corn hole now?” he whispered.

“Mhmm,” T.K. said, eyes closed, burrowing as close into Carlos’ chest as the sleeping bags would allow.

Carlos let his own eyes drift shut, feeling T.K. breathe against him. “Good.”

XXX

Their second day wake up wasn’t nearly as early as the first. The sun was peeking out through the trees by the time they made coffee and munched on granola bars and trail mix. Their plan was to hike before the heat of the day and make it back by noon to go kayaking.

Carlos squeezed T.K.’s hand as they began to walk the trail, elated as always by the smile he got in return. Before T.K. he hadn’t known love was stitched together by little moments like this. Holding hands, walking side by side with their friends like it was the most normal thing in the world, this type of moment had become sacred to him. 

The trail was quiet at this hour of the morning and they laughed and joked as they wound their way through the trees. What had started as good natured ribbing about Paul’s dating life had snowballed into talking about Mateo’s lack thereof. Much advice was being shouted back and forth, some of it good, most of it bad.

They rounded a turn, the sun bursting forth, setting the area around them on fire with gold. Carlos let go of T.K.’s hand for a second. “I’m just going to take a picture,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

T.K. nodded and kept walking, yelling something about pick up lines and how they definitely worked if you used them right.

Carlos rolled his eyes, mostly at himself, because he’d love to tell them T.K. was wrong, but his boyfriend had definitely used a few on him, and clearly they’d been effective.

He snapped a couple photos, playing with the angle a little. “Gettin’ a good shot for Instagram?” Judd asked, startling him.

He hadn’t realized Judd hadn’t moved on with the rest of the group and he startled, his phone slipping out of his hand and landing in the brush next to the trail. “Whoa, sorry about that,” Judd apologized. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” Carlos said. “I was just lost in my own head I guess.”

He bent to pick up his phone, hoping he hadn’t accidentally shattered the screen or the camera.  His fingers closed around it and then there was a sharp pain in his wrist. He jerked his hand back, letting out a surprised shout.

“You all right?” Judd asked.

That was when they both heard the tell tale rattle and saw something slither off through the bushes. Carlos looked at Judd in wide eyed surprise. “Was that—“ 

Judd immediately swung into action. “Here let’s sit you down, all right?” he said, gently taking Carlos’ elbow and guiding him onto a large rock before turning and bellowing down the trail after the rest of the group. “T.K.!”

Carlos looked down at the two bloody puncture marks on the back of his wrist and felt his heart begin to race inside his chest. This couldn’t be happening. This was not happening.

There was crashing nearby and T.K., Paul, and Mateo all appeared in a rush. “What happened?” T.K. asked, slightly out of breath. 

“Carlos got bit by a rattler,” Judd said, his voice much calmer than seemed appropriate for the situation.

“What?” Paul asked in shock.

“I dropped my phone,” Carlos said, still stunned. “I bent over to pick it up, it was so stupid, I never even checked—“

“It’s not your fault,” Judd told him. “Coulda happened to anybody.”

T.K. dropped to his knees and examined the wound. “It might have been a dry bite,” he said, looking up into Carlos’ eyes. “What are you feeling?”

“Um, my heart is racing,” Carlos said. “My chest is kind of tight.”

“Okay, that could just be the adrenaline,” T.K. told him. “We’re going to clean and bandage the wound and then we’re going to get you out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Carlos said, feeling shaky, but trying hold onto his boyfriend’s calm. A dry bite would mean no venom in his system, which would mean no reason for concern. This might not be anything more than a scare.

“Mateo, I have bandages in my backpack. Paul get me a new water bottle.” T.K. doled out orders, speaking very fast, belying his concern. “Judd, keep an eye on him, okay?”

The team found what he needed in seconds and T.K. began to clean the wound, drawing a circle around it with a pen to mark the area of redness so they could see if it spread. 

The tingling started slowly, Carlos barely noticed it at first with the way his heart and mind were already racing. “You all right there Carlos?” Judd asked.

“Um,” Carlos swallowed hard. “My arm is kind of tingling and my mouth is dry.”

Judd and T.K. exchanged looks. “Mateo, get the radio and call dispatch. Ask them to meet us in the parking lot with an ambulance,” T.K. said. 

“On it.” Mateo was up in a flash, pulling the radio from his pack. “Dispatch this is off duty Firefighter Mateo Chavez of the Austin 126, do you read me?”

“Babe, I want you to tell me the second anything changes, okay?” T.K. told Carlos. 

“T.K.” Carlos couldn’t keep the shake out of his voice, panic running through him like a river. This was bad. Really bad. You started learning about rattlers in Texas as soon as you could talk; how to recognize them, how to avoid them, what to do if someone got bit. Right now all of that knowledge seemed to have fled Carlos’ mind, replaced by pure panic and he thought he might be sick. 

“Hey.” T.K. paused his ministrations to cup Carlos’ face firmly in his hands. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, all right? Do you trust me?”

Carlos managed a nod. “Good. I need to immobilize your arm, so I’m going to bandage it against your chest. That should help slow the spread of the venom. Judd,” he looked up and Judd immediately moved to action, helping pull the bandages up and around Carlos’ shoulder. 

They made quick work of strapping the arm into place. By the time they were done Carlos’ heart was pounding in his ears and his entire body had begun to feel shaky, his chest getting tighter with each passing minute.

“How you doing babe?” T.K. asked as he finished securing the bandages in place.

“I’m uh, I’m a little tired,” Carlos told him, his eyelids feeling heavy

“That’s normal,” T.K. told him. “But I need you to try and stay awake, all right?”

“Ambulance is on its way,” Mateo said, rejoining the group. 

“Yeah we still gotta get him off this trail though,” Paul said.

“I can walk,” Carlos said, although his knees felt like they were turning into liquid.

“No, no,” T.K. said quickly. “You need to stay as still as possible.”

“Paul and I’ll carry him out,” Judd said immediately. “It’s only half a mile or so, we got this.”

T.K. hesitated, his mind clearly still running through scenarios and options. “If we wait for a rescue team it’s going to cost us extra time,” Mateo pointed out. “If you want him outta here fast, we should go now.”

T.K. nodded. “Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”

“Don’t try to help,” Paul said as Carlos shifted around. “You let us do all the work, all right?”

They made it down the trail in twenty minutes, Judd and Paul moving astonishingly fast even while carrying Carlos’ substantial frame. They could hear the sirens before they reached the parking lot, and paramedics met them at the base of the trail with a gurney.

They immediately put Carlos on oxygen and fluids, T.K. watching their every move like a hawk, tense, and clearly wishing he could be the one doing it. In five minutes flat they were ready to pull out. “We’re gonna meet ya’ll at the hospital, all right?” Judd said. 

Carlos shook his head from where it was pillowed against the gurney. “You all should stay,” he said, his voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

“Are you crazy?” Paul asked incredulously. “We’ll break down camp and be there in an hour.”

“You just relax and let them take care of you,” Judd directed. “T.K, get in touch when you can.”

“Yeah, we’ll see you soon,” T.K. told him as he pulled the ambulance doors shut.

The heart rate monitor was beeping fast, Carlos’ heart working overtime as the poison slowly spread. His entire body was tingling, mouth numb and dry like he’d spent too long at the dentist, everything hot and feverish. Funny how the thing that was bothering him least was the bite itself; it seemed inconsequential compared to everything else that was happening. 

“We’re almost there,” T.K. told him. “They’ll get you started on anti-venin, probably some antibiotics, something for the pain if you want it. It’ll be fast, probably another hour or so and you’re going to feel a lot better.”

Carlos sucked in a painful breath and tried to speak through the oxygen mask. “I hate…that voice.”

“Which voice?”

“Your…,” he swallowed thickly, “patient voice. It’s…detached. I hate…when you use it on me.”

T.K. smiled and gently carded his fingers through Carlos’ hair. “Don’t get hurt and I won’t have to.”

“You’ll call my parents?” he managed. 

T.K. nodded. “As soon as you’re stable.”

For as anxiety inducing and worrisome as the situation was, their arrival at the hospital was fairly calm. Certainly everyone moved quickly, Carlos wasn’t sure he’d ever been admitted for treatment so fast, but it was all with relatively little fanfare. An exam, some blood work, a lot of questions, and several intense looking bags of IV fluid, and that was it.

Carlos did freak out a little bit when they unwrapped his arm and found the redness and swelling had moved far beyond the pen line T.K. had drawn. The heart monitor spiked and he got extremely dizzy as panic joined the venom in his bloodstream, creating a heady cocktail that made him nauseous.

His good hand found its way into T.K.’s and stayed there, squeezing more tightly than was probably comfortable, but T.K. didn’t complain once. He just leaned closer to explain what the doctors were talking about in that calm, quiet, paramedic boyfriend voice, occasionally speaking up to ask the medical staff about dosages and timing. 

It took a couple hours, but the medication began to do its work and Carlos’ symptoms slowly eased. The nurses checked in pretty frequently and eventually Carlos let go of T.K.’s hand long enough for him to go outside and call their parents.

“What did they say?” Carlos asked as soon as he came back.

“My dad said he hopes you feel better soon and to call if we need anything. Your parents are worried. I told them that you’re fine and they don’t need to drive all the way out here, but I’m not sure your mom is going to listen,” T.K. said.

“Yeah probably not,” Carlos sighed and sank back against his pillows, his good hand coming up to rub his eyes.

“Do you need anything?” T.K. asked. “I can go down to the hospital gift shop, pick up a book or something.”

“No, no I’m okay. I just want you here with me,” Carlos said.

T.K. smiled and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “You got it.”

Carlos studied him for a moment and T.K. raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“I don’t know how you can be so calm,” Carlos said. “When you’re hurt I am an absolute basket case.”

“I went in the bathroom and cried after I called your parents,” T.K. said bluntly. 

Carlos felt an immediate squeeze of concern, now searching his face even more thoroughly for puffy or reddened eyes. “You did?”

T.K. released his hand, giving it a gentle pat before leaning back in his chair. “And this is why I don’t tell you these things. Because now you’re all worried about me instead of yourself.”

“I don’t want you to be upset.”

“I know. But when you get bitten by a rattlesnake miles away from civilization, I’m not sure what other feeling I’m supposed to have.”

“I’m so—“

T.K. cut him off. “No. Do not apologize. You don’t apologize for things outside of your control.”

Carlos mulled that over for a minute, things still not sitting quite right. “Can I say thank you then?”

T.K. rolled his eyes. “Yes, you can say thank you.”

Carlos lifted his good hand a crooked a finger so that T.K. leaned toward him, their lips meeting in a soft kiss. “Then thank you.”

There was a knock on the door and Judd, Paul, and Mateo poked their heads in. “Hey, do we get thank you kisses too?” Paul asked cheekily.

Carlos laughed. “You guys carried me half a mile. I will thank you in whatever way you want.”

“Cookies,” Mateo said immediately. “Those ones you brought to the 126 a couple weeks ago.”

“Okay, maybe we let the man recover before demanding baked goods from him. You up for some visitors?” Judd asked.

T.K. looked at Carlos, as if he were judging whether or not Carlos could handle it. “Yes, come on in,” Carlos said, ignoring his concern. 

“Looking pretty good there, buddy,” Paul said as they gathered at the foot of his bed. “Feeling any better?”

“Yes,” Carlos said. “Much. Thank you guys again for all your help out there. I’m so sorry this is how our trip ended.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” Judd said, then he chuckled. “Just nice to see someone other than T.K. in a bed like that.”

It made them all laugh and T.K. took the ribbing good naturedly. “Seriously though you had us a little worried there. Glad you’re doing okay,” Paul said.

“I wasn’t worried,” Mateo said.

Paul rolled his eyes. “You cried back at the campsite probie.”

“I did not cry!” Mateo exclaimed. “It’s my allergies. They’re bad yo.”

“Well there’s certainly no need for tears,” Carlos told them confidently. “The doctors said it’s something like what, five people a year die from rattlesnake bites?” He looked at T.K. who nodded an affirmative. “And I do not feel the need to defy the odds and be one of them.”

The guys stuck around for a bit, chatting and keeping them company. Carlos started to flag, but tried not to show it. He’d already ruined the end of their trip, he didn’t need to kick them out so he could take a nap. 

“We’d better be gettin’ back,” Judd finally said, clearly reading the room and the drooping of Carlos’ eyelids. “Although if you don’t hear from me again, it’s cuz Grace has buried me in the backyard for not gettin’ you home safe.”

“You did get me home safe,” Carlos said sincerely. “Tell Grace to give me a call. I’ll vouch for you.”

“You take it easy,” Paul said, giving his leg a pat through the blankets. “T.K., keep us posted.”

“Will do,” T.K. told him.

“Aw, come on, one group hug before we go,” Mateo said, holding out his arms and advancing on Carlos.

There was a lot of grumbling, and it was kind of awkward with all of the IV lines Carlos was hooked up to, but they managed something close to a group hug in the end and then Judd, Paul, and Mateo headed out.

“You should try and get some rest,” T.K. said, fussing with Carlos’ blankets and checking his IV’s yet again.

“They’re still in there T.K., I promise,” Carlos told him, his words slow and slippery as they came out of his mouth. He was fading fast, two nights of sleeping on the ground probably not helping much.

“Sorry,” T.K. said, sitting back down in his chair. “I feel like I should be doing something. I’m not used to being on this side of things.”

“I don’t need you to do anything,” Carlos told him, trying to force his eyelids to stay open, “except maybe hold my hand.”

T.K. smiled softly and reached out, intertwining his fingers with Carlos’. “That I can do.”

“How long do you think until my mom shows up?” Carlos mumbled, losing the battle as his eyes drifted shut.

“I give it about another two hours.”

“She’s going to be worse than the rattlesnake bite.”

“I’ll head her off. Don’t worry.”

“M’kay.”

#911 Lone Star #Tarlos #Tarlos Fic #911lsfic #Carlos Reyes Whump #126 firefam

[dragonmuse]

i dont remember if youve posted it before, but what does lucius' usual weekly schedule look like?

I haven't! Thank you for asking because I do have it in my head. This may be contradicted at some points because I never wrote it down, but generally:

Lucius tends to sleep from 3AM-11AM thanks to working the bar a lot of nights.

Sunday- This is life maintenance day, generally with Pete. Lucius is in charge of their laundry, so he does that and the vacuuming, and whatever little errands need doing. Maybe a low key date with Pete in the afternoon. Once a month there's a drag brunch that he and Pete both work, but it's only a few hours.

Monday- Serious art day. Pete usually has something to do out of the apartment, so Lucius has their room to himself and he can buckle down. Big chunks of commissions get done. Shorter Revenge shift, light bartending for Roach's cooking class (It takes place on a Thursday in one of the stories, but the night drifted around a little before they figured Mondays worked best). Prime hookup night, Lucius often gets on Grindr as the class gets heated up and no one needs a drink.

Tuesday- Usually off from the Revenge, Lucius sleeps in on Tuesdays, then finishes up whatever didn't get done on Sunday and Monday. If there's anything he wants to do that no one else is interested in, then Tuesdays are his day to go solo adventuring. Tuesdays nights, he's with Izzy and that's when they eat dinner together and go out for a date since they have the whole night.

Wednesdays- Attempt to keep Izzy in bed for as long as possible which is basically a hobby at this point. Goes back to sleep when Izzy leaves. Hangs out with Sweeney once Izzy goes to work, then it's hardcore P.A. time, spending the day scheduling reminder emails for Stede, doing errands for him and probably meeting him for lunch. Wednesday night is date night with Pete, if they feel like doing something splashier or spending extra time in bed.

Thursdays- Delivery day at the Revenge, Lucius gets there around 2pm to supervise, match inventory and restock. The Swede usually remembers to show and help. They eat an early dinner together, go over the week's schedule and do prep. Amatuer night starts at 8. Lucius signs off the earliest he does all week, right at 10. Goes home to Izzy, usually enough time to get up to something before Izzy's yawning.

Fridays- Show night! Lucius doesn't bother getting much done since he'll be up most of the night. Has the morning with Izzy, the afternoon with Pete, then wanders into work around 5/6 PM. The Swede is already done with prep. Work the show, stay until close and then usually after close.

Saturday- Sleep in forever, then it's late lunch/early dinner with whoever is around. If he's going to meet up with a friend that he doesn't work with or even some he does, it'll be on Saturday afternoon. Then it's back to the Revenge for drag bingo. Often he'll head over to Izzy's for some early morning face time if he's up late enough, or even just to grab some shut eye if he thinks the joined apartment will be too rowdy.

There's changes and interruptions all the time, of course. But he pretty firmly spends at least two nights with Izzy every week, and a minimum of three with Pete.

If Izzy is out of town, Lucius will at least stop by every day for the cat, sleep there on his usual nights. If Pete is out of town, Lucius stays with Izzy the whole time, but that happens far less often.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ask answered #goblin king and the pup #marry me about it #lucius black #izzy hands #pete black

[somerabbitholes]

hi lol this is kind of weird to ask i know, but i wanted to take history for college and when i told my parents, they told me that most people who take history (and literature) are either a. people who want to take civil service and need to study more seriously for that i.e. not really taking history seriously or b. people who dont know what to do so they take the easiest option/women who just need to study until they get married, and basically that i would be surrounded by people who wont take the subject seriously, which could then affect my own seriousness. bc you have taken history i wanna ask you if thats like actually true or just an oversimplification or exaggeration?

we're 12 people in my specific combination of courses, and all of us want a PhD at some point, which is sort of an implicit assumption at the master's level: if you've made it this far, you're sticking with the subject. not all of us are looking to teach, but we do want to be part of the larger project of history. there are, of course, people who want to join the civil services but that doesn't mean they don't care about what historians do. for a lot of people i know, the civil services are just a stable job that'll give you money to support research and everything. like if you join the MEA through the whole civil service apparatus and are at a certain level, you get a grant for a PhD in the field you're interested in. so the thing about people just there for the job prep is a huge oversimplification; it's obviously a lot more nuanced.

but that stereotype also doesn't go away, even when you're part of academia: there's a sort of runnning joke in my department that most people who study ancient india do so because it's less investment and it prepares you for the exam, and there's sometimes a latent contempt for those who are just there too, but that's just an assumption and it goes away when you actually talk to someone who's studying for the exams. (because the problem isn't really that people who want to join the government aren't 'serious enough' about history, it's that academia and the bureaucracy work in ways that makes reconciliation or doing both so difficult). i'm not even going to touch the women thing because not a single person i know is killing time until they marry.

and i know you're not talking about this, but i just want to point out that history is not easy or self-evident. there's a very frustrating but very common assumption that all we do is read dalrymple or other popular historians or just go over chronologies until we know them perfectly. and as much as popular writing would have you believe that history is something "anyone can do" if you've got "a good story to tell", it is still something that needs training, there's value in being trained to read archives and write in a way that can be both critical and literary. people spend years extracting truth and building coherent narratives out of maddeningly disparate sources. it's more complicated than you think and you realize that the more you do history.

i don't think you need to worry about being surrounded by people who aren't serious. i'm not saying you'll never meet those people; i'm saying it won't be extraordinarily different for history. every field has them and that's just how it is. but you'll also find classmates and professors who care deeply about the subject, and they'll all love it and care about it in different ways, and that makes it so, so worth it.

i hope that helps & i'm sorry if i went off.

#anonymous #answered #for later #history #historyblr #c stuff

[starryjeekies]

Can I request OT8 E’Last love languages (giving/receiving)? Ty 💕

A/N: OH MY GOD YES! this is going to take me a long while so I’m sorry if it is posted later than I intend to but I want it to be good! (post writing: thank you for waiting for this!! my work week has been so chaotic recently and I finally had some time to write)

Rano:

Giving: Acts of Service

I think Rano is a huge sweetheart. Like when he’s in love, he’s not afraid to tell the world how amazing you are. He seems like the boyfriend who when picking you up from work or school, he would definitely tell you about what he plans to do when you get back. “I already started prepping dinner for tonight and set up everything you need to take a relaxing bath afterwards and will put your favorite blanket in the dryer and-” and follows through on EVERYTHING. 

Receiving: Words of Affirmation

Rano is a HUGE SOFTIE he will blush or giggle or smile at almost everything. He’s a fun loving guy and gets super shy when you compliment him. I think when you praise him, he will just MELT. He cannot fall in love with you harder. Whether you tell him he’s great at dancing, he’s handsome, or even “I’m glad you’re in my life” he will start to bush hardcore and push his face into your neck to hide the embarrassment. Please compliment him a lot so we can see him smile more often its so pretty :(

Choi In:

Giving: Acts of Service

House Husband Choi In at your service! I don’t doubt he would dote on you so much when you have the weekend together. Unfortunately, as many adults know, the weekend isn’t for fun. The weekend is for us to catch up on the adult things we put off. So I don’t doubt he would come over before you woke up, coming in with the key you gave him, and make you breakfast while starting your laundry. He would kiss you awake and present to you lovely heart shaped pancakes before running off to wash your dishes.

Receiving: Quality Time

I think to recharge at the end of the day, Innie likes to spend time with you. He would like to sit on the couch with you, probably with his head in your lap as you tell each other about your day. Then he would most definitely want to cook with you if he wasn’t cooking alone with you watching on. Being around you makes him feel at home, hence why he is always late to work; he’s always begging for “5 more minutes” before he gets out of bed.

Seungyeop:

Giving: Words of Affirmation

I think Seungyeop gets a bad rep of being the most serious member. I think he’s more thoughtful with his words and has rbf so he comes off more serious and scary. When he does praise you, you know it’s genuine and true. Not to say he won’t praise you forever and whenever, but it always feels special. I think his favorite things to say to you would be “I’m so proud to call you mine” and “you never fail to make me feel needed” because HELLO BOTH ARE ADORABLE! Gives off the “that’s my wife and I love her” vibes.

Receiving: Acts of Service

If Innie is the house husband, then Seungyeop is traditional 1950s ‘goes to work and comes home to dote on wife and play with the kids’ type of guy. We know how hard they work, especially him during Tears of Chaos era. If he came back to you seeing that you prepped his lunch for the next few days, cleaned up the place, and are ready to provide him with attention, he would feel so grateful for you. He knows you want to make his life a lot easier and would greatly appreciate it.

Baekgyeul:

Giving: Gifts

I can believe that Baekgyeul’s favorite time to get you something if not an anniversary or birthday would be when he’s out doing shows. I feel like every time he’s out of the country, he would like to pick you up a little piece of jewelry (whichever you prefer) he think would look lovely on you. Whether its a simple ring, a necklace with your birthstone in it, or earrings that would match your favorite outfit, he wouldn’t care the price. Not only do you appreciate him getting it for you, he would also smile when he catches you wearing it.

Receiving: Quality Time

Baekgyeul, for sure, prefers to just hang out at home instead of going out. I think his favorite past time with you would be doing your own little thing but together. For example, he would be building a new star wars lego set while you would be reading a book. I also think he’s a super good listener and is very attentive to you so would give you the stage to talk all day. He doesn’t mind what you do because as long as he’s with you, he is content.

Romin:

Giving: Quality Time

I think Romin would love to take you out on dates, anywhere and everywhere. He likes to go to dinner with you, take you museums, go shopping, stargaze, he wants to show you off and how good you two look together. He wants to show you the things you never dreamed of doing. You are usually astounded with his dates, especially when they’re surprise dates. You are always on your toes with him.

Receiving: Gifts

I don’t think Romin is self centered and ever expects gifts from you, but is highly appreciative of the things you do gift him. That ring you got him after your first anniversary? If it’s not on his hand it is on his nightstand. The framed picture of you two on your first date? It’s above his bed. He will treasure and take care of everything that you give him and will remember exactly when and where you gave it to him at.

Wonhyuk:

Giving: Words of Affirmation

The best boyfriend ever. He would always make sure you are loved. He always wants you around so he can dote on you and tell you how much he adores you. I think the best thing he does is if you’re not paying attention to him, he will say “come here so I can appreciate you!” and proceed to bearhug you while telling you how attractive you are and how he is so lucky to call you his. Will definitely hype you up with all of your accomplishments! Will always tell you how hardworking you are and how proud he is of your achievements.

Receiving: Physical Touch

Its not hard to see that he loves attention. He’s a big baby and wants to be cuddled 24/7 if he could. He feels the most content when you’re lying on the couch with him in your arms and you’re playing with his hair. There’s nothing he doesn’t appreciate. When you’re out with him, he will always hold your hand or link arms. When he’s tired but has to be out at a schedule and you’re there, he will rest his head on your shoulder. At home, you best believe that he is a koala and won’t let you go until you ask.

Wonjun:

Giving: Physical Touch

I believe Wonjun gives the best hugs. I have no doubt he notices that you are more relaxed when his arms are around you so he tries to have him arm around you whenever, especially when you’re stressed. Tiny (not anymore but) but mighty. He started working out for his health but also so he can make you feel safe and secure. When you’re hanging out with the guys, his arms are always around your waist, holding you close.

Receiving: Acts of Service

Wonjun is ready to marry you on the spot whenever you do something for him. No matter how small it is such as you getting him bubble tea during practice or how big like when you surprised him after Boni Hani with flowers, dinner, and a comfy pillow fort, he would get down on one knee if he had a ring. He knows you love him and would do anything to make him relax, and would definitely prefer to do anything with you.

Yejun:

Giving: Quality Time

I don’t think Yejun is one for over the top romantic gestures, but would definitely find little romantic spots for the two of you. He would be the type to leave dance practice early to make sure he can take you to your special spot near the Han river for a little picnic. Or would definitely take you to a casual food shop so you two can talk about your day over shared tteokbokki and samgyeopsal (he only shares his food with you).

Receiving: Words of Affirmation

He has the biggest and brightest smile and it always comes out when you compliment him. He has the voice of an angel and would smile and shy away when you would praise him about it. When you first start complimenting him, I think it’ll take a while for him to accept what you say. Eventually, he will start to accept them, especially when you praise him for the hard work he’s put into being an idol.

#e'last #elast #e'last rano #e'last choi in #e'last seungyeop #e'last baekgyeul #e'last romin #e'last wonhyuk #e'last wonjun #e'last yejun #elast rano #elast choi in #elast seungyeop #elast Baekgyeul #elast romin #elast wonhyuk #elast wonjun #elast yejun #kpop #love langauges

[its-deputy-caleb]

My Juan of a Kind – Part Two

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |

pairing: juan cortez x reader (background fem!dani x clara)

summary: uhh i’m terrible with these so its based across the opening missions, the guerrillas are looking to return to clara’s island. just lots of fluff with the stinky old man, some badass missions and some slow burn :)

note: howdyy everyone i’m back w my self indulgent juan fic and yes i went overboard here but who’s gonna stop me? i hope everyone is doin well whilst i cut back from writing for a bit to juggle uni and projects i wanna work on. also as prep for some other works i’m trying to work on (1) action scenes, (2) dani and clara as a pairing and their whole dynamic and (3) slow burn/dragging out fics whilst staying to plot-lines so feedback would be amazing, but pls enjoy this unedited chaos

description: gender neutral reader | fluff | 5617 words

“Mornin’ sleepyhead!”

Your face breaks out into a shit-eating grin at the sight of Juan jolting upright from his place on the workbench. His hat no longer covers his eyes as it fumbles to the floor in his confusion as his head lifts from his arms with a very unamused groan. With his eyes squeezed shut as to keep the unwanted sun out, he grumbles indistinguishably under his breath– probably complaining about waking up with a hangover.

“The day’s not getting any younger old man, there’s things to do– places to liberate and soldados to kill! Can’t sleep your way through a revolution.” 

Juan cracks his back, stretching from the uncomfortable position of falling asleep at a workbench. It’s really not bed material, but no matter how many times he complains about it, you still find him passed out with his head in his arms atop of metal more often than not. But you can’t help but feel a certain fondness for his questionable sleeping habits as you recall all the times you’ve thrown a jacket or blanket over his shoulders to let him catch up on some much needed rest. As much as you tease him for sleeping in, you know better than anyone that Juan will avoid sleeping for whiskey any day, so you do what you can to make him comfortable.

You bend down to snatch his hat off the floor, dusting away stray bits of dirt before placing it atop of your own head. He’s more awake now, rubbing his temple no doubt to stem a splitting headache as he watches you lean against the metal table of his makeshift outdoor office.

“Clara wants us outta here as soon as possible, she wants to hit the barricade tomorrow night. We both know, we aren’t getting out of here without that helicopter of yours so she’s asked us to hit the anti-aircraft site– bosses orders,” Your hand holds out a bottle of water for him to drink, a soft smile on your features as you move from your serious guerrilla voice to something more gentle. “What do you say? Are you feeling up to it, mi viejo, or was stealing yesterday’s supply drop all you’ve got?”

Juan flashes a smile, one you know means he’s already agreed to join you but he hides it behind a large gulp of water as he throws his head back. 

“I already have a contact waiting in that area– Raiza can handle it can’t she?” Juan reaches out for his cigar, holding it between his teeth as he pats down his clothes in search of a lighter.

You beat him to it, extending your arm out to light it. Smoke travels up into the air, diluting with the air as Juan takes a deep breath in effort to wake up properly, “nuh uh– common old man you know she’s busy scouting Fort Quito.”

Juan grumbles out something close to an annoyed huff, fingers flicking ash onto the ground. You remove his hat, placing it onto his head affectionately and both of you laugh as it squashes over his nose.

“Why can’t you just go?”

“Because I want you to come with me.”

Sometimes Juan can be a little shocked at your bluntness, often staring blankly at you in disbelief like he is now. Like he can’t process the way you never hesitate to choose to spend your time with him. It makes you smile and your chest feel warm at the gesture, and he’s told you on many of his drunken nights that he can’t understand why you’d want to spend time with a sad, lonely old man with a string of regrets and choices.

If only he could see himself the way you do.

Of course, those discussions of feelings are going to have to wait. At least until you can get off this island.

Juan, like the wicked spymaster he is, tries to bribe his way out with his favourite hamilton watch he acquired from god knows where. 

“Bribery will get you nowhere Señor Cortez–” 

“Please, it’s my way of saying thank you for yesterday,” Underneath his playful tone, you can hear a seriousness in his voice and if that wasn’t evidence enough, his fingers won’t stop fiddling with his cigar.

Clearly, something is still bothering him from last night. Maybe he still feels guilty about the tobacco plant and your injuries, or maybe he’s embarrassed about you coming to find him down in Armonía. Hell, maybe this whole island brings out a slurry of insecurities– you know for yourself Isla Santuario reminds you of Libertad’s hardships and the exhausting nature of la revolución. It’s not at all like Clara’s island on the Archipelago, a place that feels like home when curled up around a campfire or huddled away in Juan’s bunker with quality rum, uranium and good company.

“Keep it.” Your voice is gentle as your hands attach the watch to Juan’s wrist, just below his Matryoshka doll tattoo. The two of you are watching where your thumb rubs slow circles over the ink and many battlefield scars, the scene feeling completely domestic and serene despite all the movement of Clara's camp and chaos beyond the walls.

Eventually, you have to break the peaceful movement despite wanting nothing more than to spend a lazy morning with him. But that doesn’t stop you bending down to kiss his cheek, nor do you miss the way he melts into the stool and leans into you slightly. “Common, I bet there’s a stack of uranium waiting at that aircraft site.”

And boy, you’ve never seen Juan move faster than in that moment.

– 

After a pit-stop to the communal coffee station on your way out of camp, the two of you made your way to Vencejo’s anti-aircraft site. Juan complains about his back as you both find cover in some longer grass, taking the moment of remaining undetected to scan the area. 

Juan watches as you take out your phone, counting the number of assaulters, pistolas and unsurprisingly, heavy gunners surrounding the small military station. Shit. This may be harder than you’d anticipated if the amount of heavy artillery is anything to go by.

“How are we doing this? Stealth it or just guns blazing– guerrilla style.” Your voice is hushed, remaining low as not to alert the unsuspecting soldado standing just a few metres in front of you. 

Your eyebrows raise when Juan holds his hands up to you, one flat to cradle the other which is shaped into a fist. “Rock paper scissors? The winner gets to choose.”

Juan’s shit eating grin has you rolling your eyes affectionately, holstering your pistol as you play best of three. 

It was perhaps some level of luck that you’d emerged victorious, no doubt assuming the spymaster would choose the more chaotic approach of guns blazing which would’ve proven difficult with how heavily guarded the entire island is.

“Stealth it is then. Here take this– you’ll need it.” your hand reaches into your kit, pulling out two newly crafted silencers as you pass one to Juan. He graciously accepts it, taking a second to look over your resolver craftsmanship before screwing it to the end of his rifle. 

“Not bad, cariño.”

“Ah well… I learnt from the best, no?”

Both of you suppress a chuckle as the soldado in front of you picks up on your voices, his hands tightening around his weapon as he wanders closer. Staying low, you crawl your way through the grass before grabbing the soldado with a firm hand over the mouth as you drag him down into the shrubs with you for a silenced kill. You notice how Juan has already made a move towards some of the other soldados who hit the ground one after the other. 

Together, the two of you work your way up from the lower entrance of the Military bunker up to the anti-aircraft cannon. Each of you swaps between an array of silenced weapons from your silenced handgun, to your machete and even a bow you usually reserve for the odd hunting trip around Yara. 

It’s not long before your guard drops, emerging from the cover of sandbags as the coast rings clear. Juan is already rummaging through FND maps and documents, seeing if there’s any valuable intel in the tents and you can’t help but laugh when he comes up short with nothing but a bunch of pin ups, propaganda and fishing flyers.

Your laugh dies immediately however when a flash of red and white pops up in your vision. A weakened soldado standing on wobbly legs behind Juan, who hasn’t seemed to notice the weapon currently being pointed at him. 

Quick to act, you draw your own and bring him down efficiently as a confused Juan wonders why a bullet is flying past him.

“You’ve gotta secure your areas better old man, maybe you need glasses if your eyesight is going.”

“Hey! I’m not that old – besides I have better eyesight than you do.”

“Mhmm… whatever makes you sleep at night dear.”

The nickname has you both feeling flustered, a blush crawling up your neck as you try to move on from what you’ve just called him. Clearly he doesn’t seem to mind if his smile is anything to go by but the adrenaline wearing off has you feeling more embarrassed than usual. 

Juan seems to forget it instantly at the sight of a container of depleted uranium over by an intel station. He picks the giant thing up with a huge smile on his face, like a child that’s just gotten what they wanted for their quinceañera as he practically hugs the emotional support uranium to his chest.

“I can’t fucking wait to add another sexy supremo to my collection!” His smile doesn’t leave as he dances awkwardly over to his car and loads it into the trunk. Strange… I don’t remember him parking it this close when we arrived. But you don’t get to think about it as he turns his attention to you, excitement written all over him. “Now, I hear you ask– Juan what supremo will you make this time? And to that I say a guerrilla has to be a sponge for inspiration and cannot be tied down with what they should or shouldn’t make.”

Juan closes the trunk of his 1956 Beaumont Valentina, leaning against it as he idly pulls out his second cigar of the day along with your lighter he seems to have claimed as his own now.

“Are we thinking medico or fantasma? Don’t forget you still have the designs for furioso.” Juan’s nose seems to scrunch up at that as he stares down at his unlit cigar.

“Eh, I think I’m going to add an extra canister for explosives before I make that one.” You hum in agreement, taking a spot beside him as he places the cigar between his teeth to use his hands. Juan pulls out a stick of dynamite as his head tilts up in a gesture towards the anti-aircraft cannon, “care to do the honours, cariño?”

You can’t help but smile fondly, letting him light his cigar before the fuse of the dynamite. There was nothing like béisbol practice as a child to help prepare you for hurling a stick of dynamite, the way you run three steps forward and roll your shoulders as the stick goes flying and an explosion of metal and fire goes flying.

Juan looks thoroughly impressed as he tosses the keys at you, both of you walking towards the front seats of the car as the fire starts spreading to the grass of the surrounding area and FND tents.

“You’re driving us back– there’s no way I could possibly drive with these old man eyes, remember?”

The ride back to Clara’s base is peaceful, the tunes from the radio mostly undisturbed from gunfire or chases from the FND as you steer clear of main roads and take the dirt tracks. Juan stretches out, legs extending like he’s a king being chauffeured around, which he is right now, whilst your fingers tap along the steering wheel. 

Clara asked for the two of you to meet her at the heart of her camp around dusk, and considering how it’s only just gone midday then it’s perfect timing for the two of you to head to the more secluded area of camp and work on repairing his helicopter.

With soft melodies of Pedro Torrero blasting from Juan’s rickety old stereo, the two of you get to fixing his chopper. It’s mostly minor damage, with most of it occurring on the outer shell rather than any internal damage when it was grounded almost a month ago upon becoming stranded on the island.

Juan is propped on a makeshift stool, blowtorch in one hand and bottle of rum in the other.Well there goes the last of the health and safety protocols– if they even existed to begin with. His other hand holds a shard of fibreglass to protect his eyes in a poor attempt to mimic a welding helmet as he begins mending the tail rotor, humming under his breath with his shoulders relaxed.

You seize the opportunity to make a start on the engine, using a skateboard to roll underneath the vehicle as you begin taking apart hatches and oil gaskets. The cool afternoon breeze blowing under the helicopter keeps you cool and relaxed as you tinker with tiny parts, occasionally rolling back enough for Juan to drop tools and updated components into your hands.

The two of you work in a peaceful silence as the hours pass by, both of you enjoying such a quiet moment from a very stressful month stranded on Isla Santuario. It reminds you of your home on libertad Island, and the way both of you would spend hours huddled in his dark bunker creating supremos and scheming up plans to fuck with the FND. You could spend hours in there with him, time completely forgotten until late into the night where the two of you pop down to Clara’s camp in search of food or a top up of the rum stash.

Juan’s voice cuts through the melody of the radio, bringing you back to reality as you roll out from under the helicopter with the heel of your shoe. You lift your face shield to rest atop of your head, obscuring your hair as Juan offers a hand to help you up.

“Clara’s expecting us soon,” Juan wipes his hands on a rag, removing most of the grime and oil before wandering over to the workbench now harbouring his beloved sniper. “Here– when we hit the barricade later, I want you to use it.” 

He passes it to you, checking it's reloaded and fully upgraded before placing it in your hands. It’s not often Juan lets you borrow his signature weapon, usually choosing to let it sit and collect dust in its leather case unless he’s using it. Of course, you can’t drive a helicopter and snipe FND simultaneously, but leave it to Juan Cortez to try it.

“Are you sure?” 

He nods without hesitation.

“I promise I'll bring it back in one piece.” You give Juan a gentle smile, one that he returns, however it doesn’t reach his eyes and a sincere, solemn look washes over him for the second time today.

“Fuck the rifle– just promise me you won’t get into too much trouble down there… I can’t get you if I’m stuck in the skies,” You go to cut him off, to assure that he has nothing to worry about but Juan gets a word in before you can.

“We’ve got big plans after we get off this stinkin’ island– that depleted uranium isn’t going to build supremos on its own and the plan doesn’t involve you dying anytime soon.” His voice has the signature gravel to it, no doubt from years of yelling, drinking, smoking and god knows what else but it has a strain to it. A certain emotional edge to it, like he’s stressed and it’s only accentuated by his eyes are trained to his sniper instead of you.

“Look I’m not good with this thank you shit– and if it was anyone else I wouldn’t bother but fuck, you’re the only one that can pull me from the bottle and I keep worrying about what could happen– ah fuck it you know what I’m trying to say.”

“¿Por qué estás preocupado, mi viejo? está bien, lo prometo.” Your arms put the rifle back onto the workbench before wrapping your arms around him for a warm hug. It’s a little awkward at first, with neither of you ever really making such a direct approach beyond flirting and the unspoken cuddling which has quickly become a ‘no zone’ for talking about. 

All the awkwardness ends when Juan exhales the breath he was holding and melts into your hold. Your head is smushed into his shoulder, both your arms wrapped loosely around him as you try to ease his worry with physical touch rather than words. Clearly it's working.

You can’t help but smile into his shirt when he makes no attempt to move despite the rustle of people gathering for Clara's meeting. In fact, as you pull away you can’t help but notice how Juan moves with you– until you’re both flush together, noses nearly bumping.

“If you think I’m dying any time soon, you’ve got it all wrong old man– as if I’d leave all the fun for you. Besides, I still have that bet with Juilo that i’ll take out more FND than you.” Your smirk mimics Juan’s own as you snatch up his rifle and some spare ammo, along with any extra gear you might need as the two of you wander down into the barracks of Clara’s camp.

–

Together, you and Juan wander into the open campsite just as Benito begins flaring up at the thought of attacking the barricade and finally, fucking finally, escaping this island. 

“You want us to take down Antón's ships? We’re goddamn fishermen!”

“Then leave us to die again, my friend.”

Juan takes a comfortable seat away from the group, choosing instead to watch as Dani, Julio and Benito all watch in awe as Clara lights a blue flare, throwing it into the middle of last night’s campfire. You remain by Juan, choosing to clean your weapon and listen from afar. 

You’ve made it clear which side you’re on, that you’re willing to fight and die beside Clara as an equal on the battlefield in this fucked up civil war. Ever since she rescued you and took you in, your loyalty has always remained with Libertad. If Clara says you’re attacking Antón’s ships, then you’re with her every step of the way.

Both you and Juan watch as she passes a flare to Dani, who throws one in beside her own. A huff of blue goes into the air, until a steady stream of smoke rises above the canopy– if Castillo’s soldier’s didn’t know where the hideout was before, they certainly do now.

“What’s the plan Jefa? For Antón to see us from the fucking capital?” Juan’s fingers roll the cigar in his tell tale sign of internal panicking. 

“Getting cold feet old man?” Your elbow bumps against his own, using a tease to lighten the situation but you know without him having to say it that he appreciates the small gesture of affection.

“Yes.” Clara’s voice chimes in, full of authority like the leader of Libertad that she is. “You’ve got twenty minutes before Antón’s forces come. So you better start running.”  

You watch as Clara tests the will of her people– of the Yarans just trying to fight for the right for a peaceful life. Nobody moves as she demands they flee, to run off and hide like fighting together as a family isn’t the last thing we have.

She picks up a flare, holding it out as she strides over to the two of you, “Rules of the guerrilla! Juan Cortez. A revolution is not won by the fearless…” 

Juan looks over to you, the two of you sharing a nod as you both stand to join the circle.

“It is won by the feared.” You both say in unison as Clara places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing in an acknowledgment of your friendship and unwavering loyalty as you toss your own flare in with the heap.

“What does Antón Castillo fear? Free elections. Free expression. Free outcasts. A Yara free of Castillos.” She circles around to stand beside Dani, her stance wide and commanding as she gives her speech, “But he will fear nothing unless you’re willing to die for your freedom today– not when we have more believers or more guns. But today.”

There’s a splitting moment, time slowing as she removes herself from the anger of the revolution. Into the friend, the family, the person that you’ve come to know as just Clara. The wavering fear in her voice which makes her so human is evident, and it’s those times where she shows her emotions do you realise why you’re fighting for her– is because you’re fighting with her. Clara has always seen herself as equal to everyone around her, no less afraid but doing what she can to give the people she loves a better Yara.

“I am not fearless…I am scared as hell. But I promise you one thing, I will be feared.”

You watch beside Juan as everyone takes their turn, throwing in their own flare with an emphatic ‘¡Viva Libertad!’, all of the people you consider family united under Clara’s rally.

Eventually everyone disperses to gear up and restock their ammunition for the last time before heading home, leaving behind you, Juan and Dani who despite being the newest recruit has done more than her fair share for Libertad. 

“Does she know what she’s doing?” Dani sounds hesitant, and rightly so with how new she is to the crew but you catch the glint in her eyes, the admiration and lovestruck awe she has for Clara.

“Who cares Dani,” Juan makes a point of flicking his cigar into the blue flames of the flare, “She knows what we need.”

You holster your weapon, before gesturing to Dani to follow you towards one of the exits. “Common you’re with me– we’re hitting 'em from the ground.” Your attention falls to Juan, giving a salute as you walk backwards and over to some of the horses.

Juan waves back at you, walking back up the hill to where the helicopter is parked but not before he bids you farewell.

“See you from the skies, cariño!”

– 

Sitting at the lighthouse waiting for orders is your least favourite moment of all your missions with Libertad. During the heat of the moment between fighting for life and death, it’s easy to lose your thoughts and focus on the tasks at hand– whether that’s liberating outposts, stealing intel or securing resources.

But the anticipation kills you.

The silence of waiting for the radio static has you feeling jittery, your fingers running over the panels of your armour and the magazines of your weapons, double checking every little detail. Maybe that’s your nervous tick but it doesn’t help calm you, not as your feet sway over the edge of the lookout with your arms and legs wrapped securely around the railings.

Having the company of Dani certainly helps.

“So how long have you and Juan been together?”

Okay scratch that, if Dani’s company is going to have you talk about feelings not even you understand fully then you’re ready to redact that statement. You choke on nothing for a moment, coughing and spluttering awkwardly as heat swells in your face. It's only a small blessing that the cover of darkness makes it harder to notice. 

“Woah slow down Rojas– it’s not like that… it’s complicated.” Your hand rubs at the back of your neck, trying to find something to do other than reload your handgun for the millionth time. 

“Oh, sorry– I assumed cause I saw you hug earlier when you both got back,” Now it's her turn to feel a little awkward over the situation, “Guess I shouldn’t have assumed anything” 

Your soft chuckle lets her know you’re certainly not mad about the situation, her face watching yours closely as your eyes wander up to the sky, watching as the night breaks with the flash of the lighthouse. 

“Don’t stress about assuming anything– you’re right to extend but…” Your voice dies in your throat. 

“It’s complicated.” Dani finishes for you.

“Yeah,” You’ve never really stopped to think about the feelings that go on between the two of you. All you know is you’re not very good at talking about it unless one of you is insanely drunk, that being Juan, or the other gets injured, that being you.

It doesn’t help that every time you do try to talk about it, you’re either stranded on an island or the FND are chasing your ass. But you’ve learnt Yara isn’t the most ideal place for romance, all things considered.

When the radio crackles to life, both of you perk up as Clara does a check in with everyone over the comms. Thank the Oluwas for that blessing.

“You two in position at the lighthouse for our assault element?”

“Sí Jefa, our positions are good– we’ll wingsuit over in no time.”

“Muy bien,” Clara does her rounds, checking in with Julio, Benito and Raiza before calling on the infamous spymaster, “Juan, you copy?”

“Buckle up guerrilla’s! Air Juan is in the skies and my bullets are hungry.” At the sound of Juan’s ridiculous overexcitement, you can’t help but chuckle fondly. Luckily, the radio is off.

Dani looks at you with a smirk, like she’s got you all figured out. “Complicated huh? Sounds pretty clear to me what kind of a crush you’ve got going on.” 

You roll your eyes lightheartedly, standing up on the lighthouse as you prepare to wingsuit your way over.

“Yeah, yeah– I'll own up to mine when you own up to your little crush on Clara,” Your smile only grows as Dani looks absolutely flustered in that moment, “now let's get these ships out of the way, yeah? I’ll take the farthest one but signal if you need back up.”

“Got it.”

– 

Wingsuiting down is the easy part, but swimming with a supremo on your back and a mountain of gear has a whole mountain of challenges. You have to haul your body up the side of the ship's hull, using much needed strength to climb the ladder thanks to the weight of the water dragging you down.

“Ugh, they never tell you how heavy this shit feels.” Reaching the top of the ladder, your arms flap about to shake off excess water before quickly ducking for cover as a soldado roams the platform above you.

With your silencer attached, you crawl through the lower decks on your stomach, keeping yourself low to the ground as you take out unsuspecting soldados. Slowly, you make your way to the lookout, disarming an alarm along the way.

You’re quick to take out a special forces sniper, taking his place as you settle on the roof of the ship and look through the scope of your own rifle. Holding your breath to steady your aim, you swiftly take out a RPG who collapses on the floor with the thud.

The next few seconds are a blur after that.

Sirens ring throughout both ships and the soldados begin to swarm in large numbers. The fucking security camera. In an effort to take out as many soldiers as you could, you had completely missed the way the security camera scanned along the upper deck– only realising too late that the body had signalled the alarm almost immediately.

A soldado opens fire onto the roof you’re stationed on, and you quickly roll over, jumping down and out of sight in the opposite direction. As you land, a low groan leaves you as your knees take the brunt of the landing that’s going to bruise for days no doubt.

Gunfire is heard from all over as backup reserves start emerging from the lower decks. You’re unable to tell which direction they’re coming from as the slurry of heavy boots, yelling and bullets reverbs off the ship's hull– completely disorienting you.

It certainly doesn't help that Dani, Clara and Juan are all simultaneously ranting in your ear.

“Fuck–fuck–fuck!”

“Dani? What the hell is going on down there?”

“Cariño? Are you alive– coño!”

Both ships are in chaos as Dani tries to deal with her own onslaught of soldados. But you keep a level head, trying to methodically work through each soldado as you have near misses with bullets, grenades and an array of other explosives with your head low and weapon raised high.

You take the opportunity of an engineer reloading his weapon to make a run for the mast of the boat, hoping the high ground will give you the advantage again. The better view means you can hit your headshots better and not have to rely on armour piercing ammo to break bullet proof vests which you’re very close to running out of.

Juan’s helicopter comes flying over the horizon and into view, swivelling around in a flurry of arson as he takes out a bunch of heavily armed special forces from behind you. I’d totally missed those.

With the added back up, Juan and Raiza helped you as Julio and Benito stepped up for Dani– the odds were turned in your favour and it was easy to take out the remaining soldados from there. Just a few more hours and you’ll be home.

That was all the push you needed to finish off the last of stragglers, a deep feeling of relief washing over you as gunfire ceased and only big clouds of black smoke remained from both ships.

Everyone regrouped on your ship, giving each other congratulations and support as you waited for Clara to come and join you all. Dani had come to join you by your side, both of you waving and cheering as the boss’ boat got closer.

“I’d say that wasn’t half bad– we’re all alive aren’t we?” Your overly optimistic voice chimes in. 

Both you and Dani pat each other on the back, a feeling of friendship like you might be fighting beside her as allies for a long time to come.

Clara’s boat pulls up beside Antón’s, the size of it completely swallowed up by the sheer might of the naval ships. You watch from the top of the ladder as Dani slides down and climbs in. Clara gives you a knowing nod, but the newest recruit spins around in confusion after you don’t follow her down.

“You’re not coming with us?” Her voice sounds puzzled, like she might have misread your position in Libertad’s ranks but it all seems to click when a rope drops down beside you.

“I’m hitching a ride with this one,” your arm loops around the rope, getting a good grip to be able to grapple up to the helicopter waiting for you, “see you two back at camp!”

Giving your biggest wave you can muster with one arm, grappling over shark infested water from a helicopter as all the boats align north and everyone begins to head in the direction of home. And finally, you’re able to plop down into the chopper's seat.

Stealing his sunglasses from his breast pocket, you throw your head back and recline into the chair with your arms stretched out behind you.

“Ready to get the fuck out of here?”

“You know it, old man– don’t gotta ask me twice.”

– 

Getting two feet down on the helipad of Clara’s island feels like a weight being lifted off your shoulders, and it only grows as you finally get to walk into Juan’s office and dump your bags down onto the metal benches. The adrenaline of attacking the barricade has worn off, an exhaustion setting in that makes you want to curl up and sleep like the dead for a week.

“Home sweet home.”

But that can’t happen with the layer of armour on, nor can it happen with the supremo hanging on your shoulders. Neither of you mention how you steal one of Juan’s shirts to change into, or how half of your things practically belong in his bunker alongside his now.

When you return to the main area, now thoroughly comfortable, you find Juan already hunched over the workbench– a sight which currently offends you at this moment. 

“Oh no–no–no. Sleep first, resolver second.” Your hands drag him away from the tool-station with an arm looped around his side. Juan doesn’t argue with you as you pull him up to his ‘loft’ bedroom. If you can call scaffolding and worn down couches a bedroom. Not that you’ve minded, in fact you’ve grown rather fond of his strange living quarters.

You hit the couch with a soft thud, fluffing one of the pillows against the armrest to get comfortable as Juan grabs a light blanket and crawls in beside you. His arms wrap around you and soon your head is tucked onto his chest as you finally relax properly.

Both of you zone out to the sounds of your breathing, your eyes closing as you aimlessly trace the lines of his tattoos along his chest and collarbones. Eventually, Juan’s hand joins yours atop of his chest, looping your fingers together as you both drift off to a cosy, comfortable sleep.

#juan cortez #juan cortez x reader #gn!reader #far cry 6 #fc6 #far cry #fc6 writing #fc6 headcannons #dani x clara #dani rojas #clara garcia #anton castillo #benito fc6 #Benito Ménguez #julio velez

[neuromedical]

So, uh... Three and a half months working as a doctor. This time last year I was out of my mind stressing about my general surgery state exam and now I’m trying to survive intensive care. It’s a lot of fun, but also a lot of stress. Thankfully not too serious for me, yet. Like when I brought a patient to the ICU after surgery and their labs came back looking horrific (acidosis, high pCO2, ions all over the place) and I literally ran to a senior doc thinking the poor patient was dying and it was probably me who killed them during surgery, but no... I just had to hyperventilate them for a bit. Or when I told a nurse at a different ward to premedicate the patient with Dormicum (midazolam) and they told me that they were out of Dormicum and whether they could use midazolam instead and I was like... what? Sure, it’s the same thing... And then I saw them walking with a syringe full of unknown liquid and heard them talking about having to put an iv in for that patient so, once again, I ran across the entire ward to make absolutely sure that they wouldn’t just give 7,5mg of midazolam to an unmonitored patient intravenously. Thankfully it turned out to be a syrup 😅 and they also told me that of course they wouldn’t do that.

I haven’t done anything incredibly stupid yet, but I have a feeling my time will come. I can’t get cocky. To be fair, I got comfortable in the OR after spending two months there, I was okay with spinals, epidurals, GA, whatever... But then the head consultant started putting me to the ward more often so my coresidents would be in the ORs and today when I was supposed to do an epidural I had a pulse of 150 at least. I questioned every step, questioned every proof that the epi catheter was in the right position and then probably didn’t wait long enough and when the surgeons wanted to start prepping for the surgery and the patient still felt pain, I almost had a heart attack. Thankfully the anesthesia worked in the end, but oh my god 😅 Epidurals are always extremely nerve-wrecking for me.

Anyway, I just wanted to give a little update. This job is a lot, but I also enjoy it a lot. The anesthesia part also involves doing cardioversions and cathlab anesthesia and the ICU involves some pretty hard cases that I still need to study a lot for. If you have questions, here’s my ask box. Though given the nature and place of my job, I don’t think that many people can relate 😁

#personal #residency diaries