I want Tommy to stick around. I want Buck to finally have a romantic partner who GETS him, who gets all the insane shit and the risks and the dangers of the job that Buck is crazy enough to love so much, because he has the same job, and he's just as crazy as Buck is about it. I want Tommy to be there through the shitstorm, through the chaos, and finally be a safe place for Buck to land in a romantic sense.
(Bear with me, I'm specifying romantic for a reason.)
I don't want bucktommy to be the "lead in" to Buddie. I don't want Tommy to be the stepping stone between them. I want Buck to have a happy, fulfilling relationship with Tommy for as long as it takes. And if/when it ends, I don't want it to have a single fucking thing to do with Eddie.
If/when Buck and Tommy split up, I want it to be amicable. I want it to be fair and decent and kind, and I want them to stay friends. I want them to still hang out. I want them to keep interacting.
Every single one of Buck's exes walked out of his life and never came back. Abby ghosted him. Ali dumped him right after he broke his leg. Taylor wrote a fucking BOOK about him/the 118. Natalia was such a non-event that we didn't even SEE their breakup.
I want Tommy to break the pattern in more than one way. I want him to stay. I want him to be the one at last to look at Evan Buckley and decide "he's not too much."
And then, later down the line, when Eddie has his awakening, I want to see Buck and Tommy BOTH supporting him through it. And when Eddie and Buck eventually realise their mutual feelings for each other, I want Tommy to be their biggest supporter.
Basically, 911 writers, I want Tommy to be more than a brief LI who vanishes into the ether once his "purpose" is finished, and I do not want buddie piggybacking off kinkley. Give them some fucking space to BREATHE. Give Buck more queer friends. Give Eddie a chance to awaken and get comfortable with himself. Otherwise buddie is going to crash and burn, and the last five seasons of groundwork will have been for nothing.
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you called * cl16
you called, so he came.
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: none.
notes: well, now i'm in the mood to write this bc i just found out my ex-boyfriend now has a girlfriend so i aM PULLING THIS OUT FROM THE DEEPEST PART OF MY SADNESS AND GUT
(i quit drinking) // (to forget you) // (you called)
charles wasn't actually going to come. when you called him, you were slurring and stumbling over your words about how you wanted to see him. he told you it wasn't a great idea until you started full-out sobbing on the phone about how much you missed him.
it was then shortly cut to max scolding you in the background. something about how he already told you not to call charles, but you still did. then max took the phone from you and told him off sternly that he better not show up.
yet, here you are in the passenger seat of his car, buckling your seatbelt on.
carmen was more than shocked to see him at max's front door, but max blew his head off when he walked by and caught a glimpse of him.
but you managed to convince him to let you go, promising the man that you would send him a text message when you got back to your hotel.
"thank you for coming," you say barely above a whisper. your eyes are set on straight the car parked in front of his.
he sees your thumbs fumbling with one another. "of course," he answers, "you called."
you turn your head to the window, completely away from him. being in this car only brought back so many memories. you're a lot more sober than you were about 20 minutes ago, after you'd puked in the toilet after a quick sob.
being in this car gave you flashbacks to when you'd be driving around on the way to parties or the bar with the grid boys. it was in this car that he'd driven you around monte-carlo for your first date, ending up by the bay into a private yacht for dinner.
“but why?” you turn back to him, your doe eyes piercing into his. they’re slightly red from the crying, your makeup has been taken off (courtesy of max after you cried and puked), and your lips swollen. “why did you come?”
charles can’t find it in himself to start driving. he turns his head, avoiding your gaze. “i wanted to come see you.” and very softly, he adds, “i missed you.”
you freeze. you were expecting numerous types of responses but him admitting that he missed you was not one of them.
“what?” there's an expression on your face that he cannot fathom at all.
"i said i missed you," he says slower. though, with most of your relationship spent in the presence of alcohol, he knows pretty well that you're not even drunk anymore. you're just using it as an excuse,.
you stare at him, mouth gaping wordlessly at him. you scoff audibly and click your tongue. "you miss me?" you shriek, eyebrows furrowing at his confession. “you miss me? are you fucking serious right now, charles?”
“yeah?” he raises an eyebrow, genuinely not knowing how to respond to you.
"charles, we broke up." there's a sadness in your eye that made his chest ache. he knows very well that you did, in fact, break up.
"why are you saying that like it was a one-sided thing? you also agreed it's better off we just part ways." charles' growing frustration is very evident on his face, and it's still clear to you. "i didn't break up with you."
you still know when he's slowly getting irritated, or which expressions told you what's on his mind.
"because i saw you!" you throw your head back, running your hands through your hair as you tug on them roughly. "i watched you distance yourself from me, charles! the way you withdrew in the last couple of days we spent together, and apart. you called lesser, you stopped inviting me to your parties with friends, and you couldn't even look me in the eye anymore."
charles had no idea that this was what went through your mind. to him, he stopped inviting you to parties because he valued the fact that you hated waking up in the morning with a hangover. you had mentioned that it made getting up so much harder.
he started calling you lesser when you were apart because he was just simply busy. but, he did send you messages that he thought were enough to reassure you of the state of your fresh relationship.
not being able to look you in the eye had a simple explanation - he's fallen in love with you and has been afraid to admit it. after you spent a week apart busy with different projects and workload, he had picked you up from the airport for a race weekend and he felt it in his chest. he was just afraid to say it out loud for the fear that you would be too overwhelmed.
"that's not true." charles shakes his head. he turns his body away from you, looking ahead.
"then what's the truth?" you probe, lifting your shoulders to edge him for an answer. there is no way that you spent your days sulking over a man who missed you but never reached out.
but who are you to speak? you didn't either.
charles opens his mouth but quickly closes it. he shakes his head again. he contemplates the risk of saying it to you. you'd called him drunk, not expecting him to even pick up; it should be his turn to risk his feelings and possible embarrassment.
"i got scared," he says slowly, turning his head to look at you, "because i realised i love you. but i was just so scared to tell you. don't ask me why. i wanted to have you without the alcohol, that's why i didn't ask you out anymore."
"you can't just lie your way out of this, charles!" you scold with the roll of your eyes.
he rolls his eyes, finally starting up the car for a drive. "i'm going to drive you home now."
"yeah, maybe you should." you fold your arms over your chest and turn your head towards the window. your hotel isn't far, but it's quite a drive.
charles didn't even have the time to turn some music on, so you had sat in his car together in silence. the sound of the engine is the only thing that occupies the deafening stillness in the air.
you'd spent days locking yourself away, the thoughts of charles hopping on to someone else eating hours of your day away, taking up most of your breath as you'd sit on the floor crying with your cat in your arms.
to the point your mother had to remind you that charles is just a boy.
"do you mean it?" you break the silence as he turns into the lobby of the hotel. your eyes are glued to the window still with tears filling it to the brim.
you hear him sigh then shift in his seat. "of course, i do. i spent every waking moment of the past 6 weeks thinking of you and missing you. i hated every second i spent without you," he rambles. he takes a deep breath as the car comes to a slow stop. "i should have called you. i'm sorry."
you press your lips together. you turn to face him, but his stare is right ahead as he chews on the inside of his cheek. "i didn't think you liked me without the alcohol. i'm not as fun without it."
charles turns quickly to face you, instinctively grabbing your hands into his. "don't even say that," he pouts his lips out, "you are an even better person without it. please don't say that."
you close your eyes, knowing you might regret the decision in the morning. you open them and meet his blue eyes, a small smile stretching your lips.
what's the worst that could happen? if he meant his words, everything should be alright.
"do you want to have some coffee upstairs?"
you see relief wash over his face. with a deep breath, he exhales, his body melts into his car seat. he leans his head on his headrest. "as long as you promise me there's no alcohol."
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awe like imagine steve cupping your face all soft while ur going down on him :) and his thumb just keeps swiping soft and tender over ur cheek and the corner of ur mouth :,) he’s being so gentle but you want him to be rougher so maybe u grab his wrists, fingernails biting into his flesh when u take him deeper, and then suddenly he's not holding u quite so much like you’re made of glass :) anyway
i’m not usually a girl who thirsts after giving head but fuck…. this version of it? might just do that MDNI this entire blog is 18+
“Fuck, baby,” Steve pants, his voice strained against the whine he fights down. It’s proving extra difficult every time he looks down. Between the warm wet heat of your mouth and the sight of you between his thighs, he’s a fucking goner.
Still, his hands are soft, one laced loosely in your hair. It doesn’t push. The other cups your cheek lightly, fingers twitching when your hollow your cheeks around his cock and suck hard. It’s sweet— but it’s not what you want.
“God, you’re perfect, your mouth is so fucking perfect,” He babbles, a low moan dragging out his chest when you bury more of him in your mouth. He’s heavy on your tongue and you adore watching the ripple of his tummy every time you bob up and down his cock.
Even then though, his hands stay sweet — his thumb moving down to brush across your stretched lips. He groans loudly, cock twitching in your mouth, eyes screwing shut. You peer up at him through your lashes, desperate to drink in all his reactions. How do you say this with no words?
Your hands shift, abandoning their mindless task of stroking along his thighs to grab his wrists. The motion has Steve freezing with a gasp— eyes flying open. Before there’s a moment to question, you tug them into your hair and push.
“Oh shit,” He whines pitifully, face twisting up in pleasure as you sink even further down on him. You release his wrists and gargle happily on his cock. His hands in your hair seem to act without him thinking, tightening and pulling you further. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”
You moan around him, all too happy with the way he’s filling your mouth. You can feel the head of his cock drooling onto your tongue. Steve groans loudly, hands finally pulling back— your head moving easily with them. His chest rises and falls quickly as he forces his eyes back open again, looking down at you. His cheeks are scarlet.
You’re still sucking, your tongue lolling over the sensitive head of his cock, and Steve shudders with a loud whimper. His hands in your hair tighten again.
“Fuck, I gotcha.” He murmurs as evenly as he can, guiding your head back down and setting the pace this time. “I know whatcha want, honey.”
You gaze up at him adoringly, hollowing your cheeks, and Steve moans brokenly, eyes flashing closed for a second — his hips bucking up into your mouth. Your gut burns with heat, hungry for his orgasm.
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Lovely Tattoos (Drabble)
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Tattooed!Reader (GN)
Summary: Tara loves your tattoos and all that comes with them.
Warrnings: None i think
Author's Note: Damn it feels like a lifetime since I've posted a fic, but heres a little drabble if you can even call it that. I promise I'm writing so hopefully you'll see some longer fics coming soon. October just kicked my ass (none of you told me turning 21 was gonna hit me so hard) and I'm just now finishing my recovery (with a big fuck you to my sciatic nerve and broken foot 🖕). There is a specific tattoo mentioned, just let me have a litte self indulgence k? 🩵
Word Count: 316 (she's tiny)
___________
Tara loves your tattoos, from the bigger ones on your back to the many patchwork tattoos across your arms and thighs. She loves them, they’re a part of you, and it’s you that she loves the most.
She loves the way you’ll stay in bed a few hours longer if she traces the ones on your back. She loves that you both calm down when she traces the Miles Morales spider on your inner wrist.
She loves that you’ve been packing markers in your bag for her and Mindy to color them in during any classes that didn’t solely focus on film making. She loves how excited you get when you see a child is interested in some of the more colorful ones. Always willing to take the time to let them inspect the vibrant art.
She loves, though this one she’s a little more hesitant to admit, but she loves the matching tattoo you have with Chad. She rolls her eyes but she loves when the pair of you make it your mission to get the tattoos in every photo you take together.
She loves the many tattoos that didn’t have any meaning to them until you had the experience of getting them. Remembering the time you drunkenly let Anika tattoo a doodle of Tara’s on the side of your rib. She loved when Sam got her first tattoo, you not only packed a bag for her during the tattoo with snacks but you also made a little care package for after.
She loves that when she got her own tattoo on her wrist, you held her other hand throughout the process. She loves that you’ve started a new routine of rubbing sunscreen on her wrist to protect it. She loves how excited you get when she says you should get a matching tattoo with her.
She loves you, your tattoos and everything that entails.
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"Stop saying Crowley won't help Aziraphale in S3 he'd go back to him in a HEARTBEAT and nothing would stop him" I get it no one likes the idea of Crowley being bitter after what happened for a long period of time but like can we at least acknowledge that he's currently going through probably the most emotional pain in his life since falling? Can we agree that he's opened his heart entirely - something you couldn't pay him to do unless the world is literally ending and he's desperate - to Aziraphale, and got shot down? Can we understand that he did it AGAIN only to lose Aziraphale again? Not that what Aziraphale did isn't without Crowley's own shortcomings (hiding the truth of Heaven's cruelty from him) but like,,,,
The appeal here isn't Scorned Crowley Doesn't Love Aziraphale Anymore, or Never Wants To Help Him Again, the appeal here is Crowley learning enough self respect to not just walk back right to Aziraphale like nothing happened after Aziraphale has had a pattern of consistently refusing him. Going years ping-ponging between "We're not friends I don't even know him" to "That's what friends are for right?" and "We're friends, why would you even say anything?" and "Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon!"
Like I get it, Crowley is a heartbreakingly forgiving person. Of course he's gonna forgive Aziraphale, I'll be surprised if he didn't forgive him by the time he walked out the bookshop door, but gdi he could at least grant himself the luxury of being at least a little irritated for longer than however long it takes to make a globe and some books float and angrily cry out to God in his flat. But due to the change of pace and dynamic that is establishing part of the conflict for Season 3, I just really like the idea of him for ONCE prioritizing himself and being like "Okay, fine. We'll get back at it when you're ready, then," instead of just taking Aziraphale back like his words and actions meant nothing to him, when clearly they have an effect on him.
What is Aziraphale going to learn if Crowley just accepts what he did so quickly, like he always has the entire time they've been friends? Idk maybe I'm just projecting too much darkness on their dynamic but I mean, if the pattern of Aziraphale pushing Crowley away/disrespecting him one day and then being fine with his friendship the next + Crowley never stopping to be like "Hey, that's not cool, at least give me a little credit" or smth was fine all along and will continue to be fine in the future, then why, after 6,000 years of being friends and loving this demon, can Aziraphale still not accept that Crowley is just fine the way he is, and instead got excited to promote him to an angel in a heartbeat once the opportunity presented itself? You can't blame all of it on Heaven when Aziraphale has demonstrated his free will/defiance to Heaven so many times. Or, I don't know, I guess maybe we can? Maybe I'm just craving too much angst to the point where I'm letting it cloud my analysis of canon. Idk.
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How to use tìftang (the apostrophe thing) when naming your Na'vi OC
The most important thing to note here is that tìftang is not decorative!! It’s not just there to make words/names look cool! It’s a consonant and represents an actual sound (specifically a “glottal stop”, aka that little catch in the back of your throat when you say “uh-oh”). Adding tìftang to your OC’s name will affect the pronunciation of said name.
When using tìftang in your OC’s name, you want to make sure it’s next to at least one vowel (a, ä, i, ì, e, u, o) or diphthong (ay, aw, ey, ew).
✅ Ka'ul
✅ Ka'nul
✅ Kat'ul
It CANNOT go between two consonants—this is a VERY common mistake!!
🚫 Kat'nul
This is not pronounceable! It’s like having a character whose name is meant to be pronounced “Bob” or “Jimmy” but for some reason spelling it “Bokb” or “Jimtmy”.
The reason for this is Na'vi syllable structure. Tìftang can start or end a syllable, but it cannot go in the middle of a syllable, because it cannot cluster with other consonants.
For practical examples of what that means, let’s look back at the previous examples:
Ka'ul can break down into either [ka'][ul] or [ka]['ul], so tìftang is either ends the first syllable, or begins second syllable.
Ka'nul breaks down into [ka'][nul]; tìftang ends the first syllable.
Kat'ul breaks down into [kat]['ul]; tìftang begins the second syllable.
So what about Kat'nul? There are a few ways to break it down, and none of them work. [kat'][nul] and [kat]['nul] are both invalid because, while the tìftang is at the end/beginning of the syllable like in the other examples, it’s clustering with t or n. Remember that tìftang cannot cluster with other consonants!
The other way to break it down—and probably the way most people unfamiliar with Na'vi would be thinking—would be [kat]'[nul], with the intended pronounced syllables just being “kat” and “nul” with the tìftang thrown in to look cool and alien. This doesn’t work because again, tìftang is not decorative! It is a letter with a sound (one that’s not even really physically possible to pronounce properly between a t and n even without the syllable rules), not a punctuation! Kat'nul-pronounced-Katnul the Na'vi is just Jimtmy-pronounced-Jimmy the human. Just spell it Katnul!
Speaking of clustering, here’s another mistake I see sometimes (though a little less commonly):
🚫 K'atnul
This is also not pronounceable, because while yes the tìftang is next to a vowel, within its syllable it’s clustering with k. Remember that tìftang can only begin or end a syllable; it can’t go in the middle of one like [k'at]!!
Now, here’s a quick thing to be aware of. Remember earlier on I mentioned that tìftang must go next to a vowel or diphthong? Let’s talk about diphthongs real quick:
A diphthong is what you get when two vowels merge into a single sound. Na'vi has four of them. They are written ay (a+i), aw (a+u), ey (e+i), and ew (e+u). That said, you could have a names like these:
✅ Kaw'nul
✅ Key'nul
…but not like these:
🚫 Kow'nul
🚫 Kuy'nul
Why does the first set work but not the second? Because in the first set, the w and y are not standalone consonants, but rather part of the aw and ey diphthongs. In the second set, however, ow and uy are not diphthongs, so the w and y are regular consonants, which means Kow'nul and Kuy'nul don’t work for the same reason as Kat'nul: tìftang cannot go between two consonants. (changing the spellings to Kou'nul and Kui'nul would work, however!)
tl;dr - to assess whether you are using tìftang correctly in your OC name, ask yourself three questions:
1.) Is it next to at least one vowel (a, ä, i, ì, e, u, o) or diphthong (ay, aw, ey, ew)?
✅ Ka'ul ✅ Ka'nul ✅ Kat'ul ✅ Kaw'nul
🚫 Kat'nul 🚫 Kow'nul
2.) Does it begin/end its syllable?
✅ [ka'][nul] ✅ [kat]['ul]
🚫 [k'a][nul]
3.) Is it clustering with other consonants?
🚫 [kat'][nul] 🚫 [k'at][nul]
If your answers are yes, yes, and no, in that order, then congrats!! You have used tìftang correctly!
If your answer is no to the first two or yes to the third, you can fix it one of three ways:
Move the tìftang to a valid position:
🚫 K'anul -> ✅ Ka'nul
Remove the tìftang completely:
🚫 Kat'nul -> ✅ Katnul
Add a vowel:
🚫 Kat'nul -> ✅ Kate'nul, ✅ Kat'enul
🚫 K'atnul -> ✅ Kì'atnul
🚫 Kow'nul -> ✅ Kowa'nul
Now go forth and tìftang responsibly! :D
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