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neonovember · 10 months

Note

hiiii

could you write carmy x reader where she’s a high school friend and carmy always had a crush on her (but he thought she had a crush on mikey) ???? like maybe richie brings her up, and that she’s still in town and SINGLE and carmy gets red like a tomato and ??? richie makes her visit the beef and candy almost has a heart attack?? idk give me some in love carmen !!

pretty pleaseee and thank u

so I got this request and I immediately thought of swim by chase atlantic, and specifically the line that goes;

“I’ve been drowning for a minute, your body keeps pulling me in”

And holy shit if that isn’t Carmen in his denial-in-love with a long time friend era, I don't know what is. Carmen tries too hard to forget you, but you've marked permanently, you've ruined him for anyone else so can you blame him for waiting for you all this time?

Seriously though this request was so good! I got a bit carried away and turned into a 2 part series that may or may not have drabbles added to the universe…I really hope this isn't just a load of word vomit you don't want to read lmao. I just love their dynamic so much, and also FRIDAY DINNERS AT THE BEEF IS CANON OKAY.

Golden Boy

part one of 2

warnings: miscommunication (i know i'm sorry), friends to lovers, carmen and the reader have horrible communication skills and don't know how to call, angst, anxiety

a/n: part two will be up hopefully tomorrow so look out! it may or may not include a smut scene 😈

p.s, listen to swim whilst reading this you'll thank me later

You sat hunched in the tight enclosure of the classroom desk chairs, the once loud conversations fluttering across the huddled groups of classmates and friends that stood against tables and chairs now coming to a standstill.

The air of anxious trepidation falls across the atmosphere of the damp classroom, the windows that had been opened to let the air in felt thin as you and the rest of the students you had known for half a decade waited for that familiar ring of the bell.

The bell that would solidify your last day in this classroom, in these run down halls, in the school you had first stumbled into anxious and oblivious at thirteen.

Your heart ached at the nostalgia of it, and you can't bear to cast your gaze to your friends who had begun to sniffle, like they were holding back tears, the grandfather clock your geography teacher insisted on keeping ticked on as it always did, and whilst you had spent years burning holes through the glass, willing for it to go faster, your one dying wish is for the seconds to tick by in minutes.

You weren’t ready, it ran straight through you, all this time leading up, from when you had first learnt your desire to pursue architecture till the moment you finished that last sentence on your final exams, you felt you would be filled with joy at the sound of your true departure into adulthood and college.

And yet, you felt like a kid again, learning how to ride a bicycle without the training wheels, trying to reach the fifth monkey bar, falling headfirst into the dirt ground of the field when you had thought you were more flexible then you truly were.

You didn’t want to leave, you didn't want to leave this place, this place of memories and friends and people you knew and loved. And it was as if God was listening, cause the resounding echo of the school bell rang through the halls and it was as if he said ‘fuck you anyway’.

You gather the haphazard books and papers laying across your desk, you had purposefully delayed packing in order to waste as much time in this memory as possible, before adulthood would take it away and make it something of the past. You hear your friends calling your name, and you tell them to go ahead as you make your way to your teachers desk.

“Hey Mr Jefferson” You say to your teacher has begun to bid goodbye to the leaving students

Your teacher looks up at you with a tight smile, sadness washes over the wrinkles and creases of her features, her auburn hair falling in short waves at her shoulder and her olive lipstick wearing down. You have to swallow to stop the tears from dropping. Your Geography teacher, whilst not teaching Art, had been the catapult to realizing your fascination with Architecture and design. She had even helped tell your parents, who had been set on the idea of you going into Law or Medicine or anything other than creative arts.

“You’ll do amazing, I believe it because I see how hard you try. Don’t look back at this place, leave with the door wide open and come back only when you want to design me a house” Your Teacher replies with a grin, and before you can reply shes shuffling through her drawers, before pulling out a sketchbook that has been aged and stained with use over the years.

“What’s this?” You ask, twisting the book in your hand, it was good quality, despite being old, it felt like an heirloom.

“It’s one of my sketchbooks I had during college, maybe some of my late night sketches fuelled by coffee and donuts might inspire you”

“I couldn't possible-”

“Yes you could, hell whatever you create will probably be 10 x greater than whatever is in there” Your teacher cuts you off with a chuckle, and you hug the notebook tight against your chest before hugging her goodbye.

You step into the familiar walls of your high school hallways, crowds of seniors running to find their friends and hug them for possibly the last time, test papers and report cards left trampled on the ground, it's chaos, but you love it and the sight almost pulls tears down your waterline.

You walk towards your locker, before you recognize the familiar wisps of blond curls catch your eyesight. Carmen. You considered him one of your closest friends, bonding together over a love of game** and your equal hatred of your Period 4 Calculus teacher.

Carmen didn't have much when I came to be friends, and after he met you, it didn't really get to him anymore, he had you now, and you were more than enough. Over the years you had gotten close to every part of Carmen's life, Mickey, Richie, Sugar, they were all people you regarded as family.

But there was something unsaid between the both of you, it was like there was something beyond friendship, but the embers had just gathered and had left unignited.

He’s gathering his things from his locker, shoving them into a bag in that messy way he is, and he slams the locker with a jolt.

You're standing stationary in the middle of the hallway, classmates and other seniors running by you in confusion, your friends calling your name annoyed, but it's all muffled, it all doesn't matter because it's Carm and god your heart aches so bad.

You see Carmen and he sees you, stopping a few meters away from you, and a moment of recognition washes over him as he gazes with those cerulean blues. There's grief in the way you look at each other, tears streaming down your cheek as you try to smile at him, realising this might be the last time you see him, forever, off to an Art school in New York, leaving him behind. You feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest and he shakes his head, his eyebrows scrunching up as he steps closer so that he’s only a whisper from you.

He brings his hand up, brushing a strand and tucking in behind your ear, eyes strained as he wipes your tears away painfully. He moves closer, so that his breath is against your neck and whispers

“Thought you told me you'd punch me in the stomach if I cried on the last day” Carmen whispers into your eyes with a grin that breaks through the tears that cause his eyes to swirl in colour's of waves.

His words make you laugh and cry at the same time, and you shake your head as you reach for his arm, and playfully hit your stomach with it. Carmen rests it against your waist, looking up to you in a pained expression, his eyes shift to the notebook grasped tight in your hands

“New sketchbook? That..doesn't look new” Carmen says, turning his head to examine the old book more closely.

“One of Mrs Jefferson’s, her sketches are..their fucking amazing” You sigh, running your hand across the folded spine of the sketch book.

“Thought teachers weren't meant to have favourites” Carmen shoots out, a playful grin on his lips

“Hmm, well they aren't supposed to tell you exactly” You banter with a giggle, you flick through the pages of the book, half drawn sketches in grey lead and ballpoint, Carmen tracing his fingers gently across the ingrained lines and shades.

“God you're something, you know that?” Carmen says, all of a sudden, and when you look up you realise he’s been staring at you the entire time.

“Bear..” You breathe out.

“I don't know how I'm going to-, I, it's all so much” You exhale, waving your arms around this place that has held so many memories, so much of your past kept in the creaks and cracks of plastered walls and lockers

“You're the only person in this goddamn place that's going to make something out of themselves, I bet my entire life on it Bug. You're going to do amazing, in that big city, you’re going to show em’' Carmen replies, grasping you against his touch tight. You look up at him, trying to memorise every dip and curve of his features, the curl of his hair that shone honey in the sun, those eyes that were always searching, and the small cut on his forehead where he fell off his skateboard that one summer evening.

“Don’t say goodbye”

“Okay” Your tongue feels like deadweight in your mouth. what if i never see you again?

“You say goodbye and it's the end. Just..don’t” I can't breathe carmy.

You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pressing your nose into his shirt to smell the scent of patchouli and cigarettes he always carried, you want to tell him to come with you, to pack an overnight bag and run with you forever, but the words don’t taste right when you try to speak and you see yourself letting him go, and turning away with a shaky step.

Turn back Carmen whispers, so softly that only the gods above and the wind around him can hear it

You feel an urge to turn back, it speaks to you from within, and before you can stop yourself, your neck cranes, turning your body to get one last look at your golden boy before time would take him forever.

Time would age him into a memory forever.

Carmen feels this tension leave his shoulders at the same time his heart shatters, you will find each other again, even if it was in another universe, where you're sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, going over groceries together with the afternoon light casting its glow across you. He will find you, he will find you and he won’t let go this time.

“Honestly Ma, it’s fine, I’ll get the movers to come in a little early”. You groan into the phone pressed to your ear, papers and unresolved bills are left scattered across your dining room table and you have this itch that's begun to turn chronic somewhere you can’t reach.

You take a moment to look around your apartment, now barren of furniture, and filled instead with boxes of badly organised stuff you've accumulated over the years. This place, albeit small, had been your home ever since you stepped out of the yellow cabbed taxi on your first day in New York, and whilst it wasn't pretty, you felt a pang of guilt leaving it all behind. These walls had seen you through it all, the late night study cram’s, the breakdowns, the accomplishments, the one night stands. You'd miss her, but maybe you were just a nostalgic person.

You’ve made a life in New York, but you felt misplaced, like pieces of yourselves were scattered across the states. Chicago kept a part of you, and it was only when you had gotten the chance to move back home, did it click. You missed your city. And you had cut your lease and emptied out the last of your savings without a second thought.

Now all that was left was tying up loose ends and making the trip down. It was funny, in a way. You had run to New York to pursue architecture, and it brought you back to the very same place you had left, there was a certain trepidation when you thought of Chicago, it held so much of your past, in its city streets and evergreen trees, and you don’t know if you were quite ready to face those memories again.

It still smelled the same. You itch your nose, sniffling against the blooming scent of cocoa and caramel from the Chicago roads, all this time, and all that you can tell is how it still smelt like maple leaves and chocolate. It was comforting, and it felt like the warm embrace of a childhood friend that had stayed sitting on the corner of your suburban street corner all this time.

“Thank you Mae, really, I got the call last minute in New York to come back here and if it weren't for you, I’d be moving back into my old bedroom at my parents” You reply, gratitude filling every word. It was true, your friend had swooped in the second you called, fixing you up with a lease and an apartment with her realtor links. She came in a clutch, and she had made you promise to never leave her again in exchange.

“Oh shush doll, of course. This is probably payment for all the times I’ve crashed at yours anyway” Mae winks, the bracelets on her wrist clinking against each other. She didn't look like a typical realtor, more like a bohemian solo-traveller with her filly skirts and auburn red hair.

“I’m not going to let a degree transform my entire wardrobe, my clothes are antiques, their heirlooms, they tell a story”

She had told you once, one late night on the rooftop of your New York apartment, sipping cheap wine and passing a blunt between you both. You wish you had known yourself as much as she did then.

She had visited you a couple times in New York, coming up for work and spending the time at yours instead of spending thousands on an Airbnb, but it had been a while since you've seen her, and all of a sudden you remember how much you missed her laugh.

“I’ve got some time to spend before it’s all hand on deck” You reply, placing the last of your boxes onto the empty wooden floor of the living room.

“Oh yeah? Can’t believe you’re gonna design a whole building on Michigan Av’, your a fucking inspiration Bug” Mae sighs in adoration, and you giggle, the feeling of embarrassment filling you at the mention of your reason back home.

You never got used to the praise and adoration you received over the years, despite your many accolades and awards, you still felt like that hopelessly broke architect student giving up lunch to pay rent. You didn’t remember when things started to change. When did things start to change?

“You know, if you’ve got time, you should check out the Farmers Market near River North” Mae replies, whilst flicking through her phone

“The one on Division Street?” You reply, you had a faint memory of the long strip of stalls filled with fresh produce, food and the rest of the little trinkets that were sold since you were born on the pleated table cloth of sheltered booths.

“That’s the one, this guy named Samson? Makes the best fucking bearclaw in the entire United States. Tell him you're a friend of mine and he'll hook you up…you know since you can't afford it” Mae replies playfully, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you hook up with him or something?” You poke back, Mae had the tendency to know everyone in Chicago, from the mailman to the old woman you’d see feeding the bids on a park bench.

“Yeah, actually I did. Not like you could relate, how long has it been, hm?” Mae replies, stepping forward to whisper down at your pants.

“I’m so sorry she hasn't been taking care of you. What are you, mummify her?” Mae looks up from her crouched position with a raised eyebrow.

“Ugh, you know I've been too busy to think about that. She’s gonna have to be patient” You reply, you don’t want to think about how long it has actually been, since you've had any type of release. But the tension has begun to weigh on your shoulders as time went on and you fear it might become something you can’t ignore.

You begin to move some boxes into your bedroom, thanks to your planning your large furniture such as your bed and coach, had been moved into the apartment before the rest of the things had got here, so at least you wouldn't be sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Changing into a pair of dark jeans and a short sleeve top, you loop an embroidered handbag onto your shoulder.

“So, you coming?” You call to Mae, who’s begun to fill your fridge with the groceries she's swung by with.

“Sure would Bug, but got a call to come in. I’ll come by again later this evening though?” Mae replies, with a grunt as she lifts the 2 litre bottle of milk onto one of the drive shelves.

“Yes please, I’m dying for a glass of wine”

“And a blunt” Mae replies, snickering at the way you roll your eyes at her.

Mae offers to drop you off, but you wave her off, telling her you wanted to see a little more of your hometown. You needed some fresh air that wasn't the coffee and smoke scent of the New York streets.

The walk to the Farmers market was a short one, but you felt like you were wading through a current. By the way the memories of your past began to resurface as you passed the streets and shops. Every corner holds a part of you, and you have to rush by your old school to stop the pang of pain that surprises you. You weren't an emotional person, but god it was almost as if you were hanging by a thread the second you touched down on Chicago.

What was causing this? You felt like you were holding your breath as you stepped through the fallen autumn leaves marking the sidewalk, the gentle sun on your back, what were you waiting for?

You tear yourself from your thoughts momentarily when you catch the looming buildings that had been built on ions ago, the infrastructure of Chicago still enamoured you, in a way that couldn't be beaten by even New York’s impossible skyscrapers.

There was a charm to it, each of the buildings felt like you were stepping into a different decade, they had been the stepping stones to a lot of the infrastructure and architecture that spread into other cities. You felt like you were at the start of it all every time your eyes trailed across the facade and arcades of the century old stone buildings.

Without realising, you had finally made it to the Farmers Market, the constant stream of people coming in and out with boxes of produce or hauling wooden antiques with very audible grunts. You can’t stop the smile stretching your face as you step through the embroidered banner at the front of the street.

Despite the many different stalls and food around you, you don't feel overstimulated. This was your home, you felt like you belonged, like a name scratched into wet cement, remaining ingrained for years no matter the seasons that came.

You go over the haphazard list of things you wanted to look for in your mind, but you're caught off guard by a stall that seemed to be huddled by patrons. You step towards it, and as people move aside you see the blooming flowers and carefully wrapped banquets in woven wooden baskets to the side of the stall. A short woman with light brown curls is standing at the front, taking down orders with a grin, whilst a rather tall man behind her makes quick work to wrap delicate orders into soft brown parchment paper tied with string.

And all of a sudden the need to buy pink tulips becomes your first priority. The woman at the front looks familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on where you've seen her, but as you walk up to the front her face morphs into familiar as she looks up at you in surprise.

“As I live and breathe” She says your name with a screech and it's her voice that pulls her name to your mouth. Adeline, a close friend from senior year who’d taught you how to crochet and pick a lock.

“Bug? How've you been? What brings you back to town?” Ade replies after telling the man behind her your order without you even saying a thing.

“Tulips, pink ones right?” Ade grins, and you have to let out a chuckle at how you haven't changed even a little.

“Got invited to join in designing a new building on Michigan Avenue, so I'll be back for a while-”

“Michigan Avenue? Holy shit Bug! You’re making moves, knew you always were special” Adeline replies with a gushing smile and you rush to reply with the same adoration

“Are you kidding, look at this line” You motion to the increasing line of people forming at Adeline's stall.

“People love their flowers” Adeline replies with a shrug before you shake your head vehemently

“No, they love your flowers, and for good reason, look at these” You gush, pressing your face into the bundle of tulips that had been handed to you.

“They only look that good because Henry's so good at wrapping them” Adeline replies with a laugh, her eyes flicking to the brown haired man dressed in corduroy behind her. A look passes between them that tells you there was more than love between them.

“Henry huh?” You reply with a grin, and the man is quick to introduce himself, and you don’t ignore the cold press of an encrusted band on his ring finger as he shakes your hand with a soft smile.

And it's as if Adeline reads your mind and she slips her left hand in yours, looking up at you with a teary grin.

“Yes, yes I know, I should've called, and I’m so sorry-”

You press yourself against her, leaning over the stall to wrap your arms around her. You whisper words of congratulation, shutting down any words that hinted at you being mad at her.

It wasn't her fault, it should be you she's mad at, you hadn’t really made that much of an effort to keep in contact with your friends back at home, and the reality of it weighed on you heavy now, you had missed so many milestones of your loved ones, all to chase your own dreams in New York.

You felt like you were constantly playing catch up, and you couldn't lie when a strange feeling crept up at the thought of your friends moving on with life. You were so incredibly happy for Adeline, and you were even more elated when she had told you of the Wedding in April that you had to come to.

But that didn't stop that same strange feeling of being behind everyone else, you had spent so long climbing the ladder to wear what you wear now, relationships and love weren't even a thought, you filled your nights with studying and drawing and the occasional fling, but nothing more. And now doubts had begun to creep in, had you missed out?

Watching everyone around you get married and have kids whilst you were still drawing buildings in that same sketchbook your teacher had given you 8 years ago. You’re not looking as you walk past the many stalls of the Farmers market, and it is your thoughts again that causes you to accidentally stumble into the hard muscle of a man back. You feel yourself falling, before arm's reach out, grabbing you quickly to stop you from ending flat on your face.

You breath out a sigh of relief, shaking a head at your clumsiness

“God, ‘m so sorry, I’ve just been in my head, I wasn’t looking where i was going-”

“Holy fuck” Your quick to spit an apologetic thanks, you haven't even looked up to see who you've dubbed into, and when the sound of surprise meets your ease you look up, only to be remain stone faced with your mouth left open.

“Richie?” You say, the shock of it is still in the air. You hadn't expected to see him in Chicago, or maybe you did and it was sooner than you thought.

“When did you get back? Holy shit, thought we wouldn't see you again” Richie replies with a smile

“Yeah uh, came down for some work for a little while. How, uh How are things” You reply with a squeak, you can’t bear to say what you're thinking and Richie nods, a look of acknowledgement in his face. Mickey’s death had shaken you, it had changed you in its own way, and you still grief him, it still hurts when Richie's face kinda falls and melts at the reminder of his best friend's death.

“After, uh, after Mickey, he had left the restaurant, you know, the Beef?” You nod in agreement, the hazy memory of the sandwich shop on the corner of Chicago's, busiest streets, you stomach rumbles at the thought of one of those sandwiches you'd down in less than a minute during your high school years.

“Yeah well, get this, he left it to Carmen. And honestly, I was hesitant at first, real hesitant, I love him, but god, he's a self centred ass coming in like he knew everything, spewing the bullshit CDC shit he learnt up in the big apple? He changed things, and you know how I feel about change, but he made it better, I can;t lie, and you better not tell him this, but the Beef actually..” Richie’s familiar rambles are muffled to your ears, the only thing you can hear is Carmen.

Everything zones out as you scrunch your eyebrows, wincing almost, at the pain and it shocks you, it shocks you how the very name of him still brings back those memories. You still hurt the same way you did the day you left him.

You must have looked out of it, as Richie shakes your shoulder, anchoring you back to the present, and you have to swallow back the bite of pain that bleeds through your chest.

“Did you hear what I said? The Beef’s holding a little family dinner tomorrow, shutting down the shop early, inviting only friends and family, it’ll be like a little reunion for you! You have to come” Richie replies, and you nod trying to seem present.

Carmen took over the Beef? He was in New York? What?

Your mind is scattered with the uproar of questions you have, the thought of Carmen, the memory of him is like a fresh wound. It un tethered and opens up a thread of thoughts and emotions you had thought you bottled up and threw deep into the ocean.

“You, you still talk to him right? Ya’ll were pretty close growing up, like fucking thieves attached to the hip if i can remember” Richie chuckles, fondly remembering the two of you.

You cough back, smiling up at him as you trying to reply coherently

“Yeah, uh sometimes you know” You lie

No. You haven't spoken to him since you left, and it feels like your tongue falls dead when you try to say his name again. You hadn't called and he hadn't picked up. Carmen told you not to say goodbye, but the truth was it had been the end of you even before you had both realised.

You had spent years pretending like Carmen not calling you, not making an effort to see you after everything didn’t burn, but the reality of it had marked you in a way that felt eternal.

“So you're coming, yeah? You and Carmen can finally catch up” Richie replies with a smile, and look of something passes through his eyes before it leaves, and you have to smile back with a nod, like you and Carmen were still close, like you don't feel that he might turn you away or scream at you the second he saw you, like you weren't both irrevocably in love with each other.

Bear. You missed him, you are shocked by how much you do, you thought bottling up your memories and emotions about him and stuffing them so far back into your mind you forgot would actually change anything. There had always been this lingering thought, at the recesses of your mind, the last thing you imagined before you fell asleep, the feeling that filled you the second you came back to Chicago, it was all Carmen, it was all your golden boy.

And now you would have to see him, in less than a day you would be in the same room as Carmen Berzatto, you don't want to say it, you don't want to speak it into acknowledgement but deep down, you wanted to see him again.

Beyond it all, you both were bonded in friendship, sharing something you didn't even have with Adeline or Mae, and you had felt like a part of yourself was missing each day that went passed without hearing from him. Had he forgotten you? Had it been as hard for him to go on with life? He had been in New York for christ sake, he didn't even think to visit you, that thought alone made you want to run back home and never come out.

You couldn't bare the possibility of exposing yourself to such heartache, to the chance of being rejected by the very person who you forever longed for. You were always searching for him, looking through crowds to see the familiar curl of his brown hair, or the scent he carried, ears always leaning in, trying to see if it would catch his syrupy baritone voice.

The two of you were forever connected, like the roots of trees spanning miles under the Earth. The kind of companionship that transcended time and space, and god did you want to feel the sharp edge of his jaw between your hands.

You couldn't stop it now, Richie had opened something you kept locked and sunk for a reason, and now it felt like you would break if you didn't see Carmen. Even if it would break you, even if it was the one thing in this world that would destroy you,

You had to see your golden boy.

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dazealigner · 4 months

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hi hi hi

i have a request! could you write julien x reader where julien is obsessed (in a good way) where she only talks about reader in interviews and stuff

pls pls pls

and thank u

hiii anon !!! i’ve actually thought about this thoroughly in the past so i have a couple of hcs stirred up for you ! but i also wanted to say that @itsrorysstuff has also wrote for this same idea awhile ago and did an amazing job at executing it (:

jb talking about her gf in interviews hcs!

(i’ll preface by saying that jb’s girlfriend is a famous singer-songwriter in this scenario, just because interviewers would then ask about their relationship more frequently and i don’t get why julien would talk about her girlfriend excessively if she wasn’t exposed to the public eye like julien is. also to give some background, i’ll say that they discovered each other’s music prior to their romance and met through a mutual friend, lucy or phoebe perhaps)

because you two both listened to each other’s work way before you guys even started talking, julien definitely brought one of your albums up in the Records In My Life interview and even spends some time analyzing it as well before she’s subtly cut off given the time limit and their remaining questions

there’s occasional mentions of you here and there, to which you reciprocate until finally lucy/phoebe unites you two

and man oh man are lucy and phoebe third and fourth-wheeling because the entire night you two are trading ALL of the compliments and the analyses you’ve been itching to share since the moment you both discovered the other’s work

fast forward to julien and singer-songwriter!gf NOT beating the u-haul lesbian allegations, this is where julien really begins to excessively talk about you

philosophical question? she’ll mention your input on the matter. question about a lyric on the record that you helped with? oh boy that interviewer is in for a ride.

and there’s nothing more phoebe and lucy enjoy than teasing julien about you two’s relationship

“After the show in Dallas, me and Lucy went to grab something to eat, and—” “Wait, where was Julien again?” “You know where she was.”

and julien FLUSHES pink not just because the entirety of the camera crew were exchanging confused glances but because she herself knows where she was and more importantly who she was with

anyways you being known for having schemes up your sleeves when it comes to your albums, julien’s now getting asked about your music as well, and she LOVES it because she knows everything about your upcoming albums in secret and she’s now become apart of the scheming and teasing

if you announce a single release and you wanna hint at its title, let’s say you use the single title in your instagram caption, and then julien somehow finds a way to insert it smoothly into something she’s saying in an interview and lucy and phoebe are like “😏😏” cause they’re in the loop too

and then in the nardwuar interview as he’s handing out the most thoughtful gifts, in the back of julien’s mind, all she’s thinking about is how much you’d love those gifts

“Oh my god, me and my girlfriend were just talking about Trio. .” and phoebe and lucy are snickering from beside her as she goes on a rant about what specifically you two were talking about.

when the boys are on the red carpet for GQ Men of the Year and they’re already all rocking hickies and then they get into the conversation of dates when amelia interviews them…..

“What about you? Have you ever been on a date?” “A date? I’ve been on one.” “Recently, too.”

and on top of her remark, lucy’s eyes trail down to julien’s hickey. not that it’s noticeable in that exact moment, but fans inevitably notice

and finally when you do release any projects you’ve been working on, julien is so incredibly vocal on how well-deserved the recognition you receive is and how proud she is of you. she acknowledges every single hour you spent in the studio and its merit outcome.

and, of course, the level of affection julien shows is obviously reciprocated by singer-songwriter!gf

#julien baker #julien baker x reader #julien baker fluff #boygenius #boygenius x reader

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frozenjokes · 2 months

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Another Much Needed Follow Up About Love and Aromanticism, Where It’s Time We Cleared Things Up. Oh, And Mumbo Is Here Too.

this fic can be read on its own as a one shot, but I would recommend reading this first, as the context provides a little more insight on why the characters are reacting the way they do to each other

Over the course of a couple weeks very little changed. Mumbo spent the majority of his time planted in one place, anchored somewhat in the shallows so he could lift his head and listen to what the humans were doing on the days they came around. As much as it pained Mumbo to be so still so much of the time, it was a necessary evil if he ever wanted to heal, and he very much did. It didn’t matter how little he moved his tail at this point, anything he did would only result in his condition worsening.

If it wasn’t for Scar, he would have left a while ago. The humans didn’t come every day anymore, but they came often enough, and they certainly noticed Mumbo’s lack of activity. Grian tended towards keeping his distance, which didn’t bother Mumbo at all, but Scar really went out of his way to be there; sitting close (a gesture Mumbo was beginning to mind less), bringing him human trinkets to look at and play with (always exciting), but most importantly Scar brought food, and a lot of it at that; Mumbo wouldn’t have been able to stay without it. He often wondered where Scar got the many bags of fish he brought; it wasn’t all very fresh, so it was probably supplied from a human stockpile, but regardless, Mumbo was grateful. He wasn’t often in the best of moods and didn’t speak very much despite the fact he was sure Scar would have been ecstatic to talk with him, but he hoped regardless that Scar knew how deeply grateful he was.

Today, Scar and Grian were sitting on the shore together, shoulder to shoulder as they bent over one of their human activities. The first time Mumbo saw them drawing together, he had asked to see (saying ‘What’ over and over again seemed to have gained several different meanings over the weeks), but Scar had showed him that the paper they wrote on got ruined in the water, ripping easily, so it wasn’t something Mumbo could learn about personally. That was okay though, he was content to watch.

“Okay,” Scar began tapping the writing utensil (‘pencil’) to his lips, “Do we have anything to revise about the list this week? I don’t think very much new has happened.”

“Read it again, will you?”

“It’s right here in front of your face, do I really have to?”

“We’ve been over this Scar, I’m conditionally illiterate. Like right now, you got me up early and I’m tired and the words are so far away and I don’t want to. Also your handwriting is atrocious.”

“I’m tired too! It’s not my fault my fish guy needed me to show up at 6 AM.”

“You have a car, Scar. And a license.”

“Oh hey! Look at this cool list!” Scar directed Grian’s attention back to the paper, Grian only rolling his eyes before letting Scar continue. “Well, I won’t go into detail on my notes about what he eats because that’ll just bore you, but to put it simply, basically everything that’s got meat on it. Fish, shellfish, red meat, chicken, mostly just fish is what I’ve been giving him though, since I’m assuming that's what makes up most of his diet. Want to make sure he gets all the proper nutrients, you understand, you understand.”

“Uh huh.”

“As for ‘Likes,’ we’ve got fish, human stuff, Scar, Grian-”

“Scar first?” Grian cut his friend off with a raised eyebrow. Scar blinked several times before answering.

“What?”

“Scar, Grian. You put your name before mine.”

“Well this list wasn’t meant to be in order, but if it was, my name would absolutely go before yours.”

“What! No it wouldn’t. He likes us equally. Mumbo and I have a mutual understanding that we do not want to be anywhere near each other most of the time. We respect each other. From a distance.”

Scar smirked, throwing Mumbo an amused look as if he understood anything that was going on. “You know if you wanted to you could also bring him gifts and stuff. Nothing is stopping you. You could even bring him his fish if you wanted to, he wouldn’t know the difference. I wouldn’t care. There’s really nothing to be afraid of, especially now when he’s so docile like this.”

“I’m not afraid of Mumbo.”

“No?”

“If anything, he’s afraid of me, Scar. I got him in that net, I’ve gotten close to killing him a couple times- he knows it, Scar, he knows. He knows what’ll happen if he steps out of line, that’s what. I told him. I told him all about it.”

“Did you now,” Scar chuckled, nudging Grian playfully, “Well in that case, I’m definitely sure he likes me more. And I’m sure you’re perfectly content with being feared, but if you ever change your mind, I’d be happy to help.”

Grian huffed, “I won’t. Continue though.”

Scar lingered for a moment, a gentle fondness etched on his features before turning back to the paper, reading, “Well, he plays around with those vines and roots and things sometimes, he clearly is very curious, he likes to learn, and I think he likes birds, but he might just be staring at them because he wants to eat them. I put bugs in our ‘Neutral’ category since every time I try to give him a bug he just eats it, but I can’t tell if he just eats bugs or if he’s scared of them or something.”

“I highly doubt Mumbo is afraid of bugs. I doubt he cares.”

“Well, you never know! In ‘Dislikes’ we’ve got nets, sleeping bags, being touched, fighting- actually this isn't super related, but I really want to set up a Good and Bad system with him. A thumbs up thumbs down kind of situation. I was thinking about it all last night- we aren’t very good at communicating what we like or don’t like, and this feels like a good solution, but I’m not exactly sure how to tell him clearly what I’m trying to do. How would he know thumbs up means ‘good.’ And vice versa? Maybe bad would be easier to start with, but at the same time he kinda seems like a bite first ask questions later kinda guy.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. Definitely start with thumbs up. With any luck he’ll understand that thumbs down is the opposite and you can go from there. I think you could probably associate the gesture with things Mumbo likes. The tape measure, fish- he knows smiling is a positive thing even if he doesn’t smile himself, and he knows what ‘yes’ means as well. With enough of that, I think he’ll grasp the meaning pretty quick.”

“I think so too,” Scar paused for a moment, thoughtful, “You know, this doesn’t just have to be a me effort. You could come and speak to him as well. He would know you’re putting in the effort if you wanted him to like you more.”

“He likes me plenty!” Grian switched from relaxed to exasperated on a dime, throwing up his hands as Scar laughed. “He likes me, Scar.”

“I know he likes you. But I also know he doesn’t have the full picture. He doesn’t know how much time you spend brainstorming how to teach him things, or how to relieve his stress, or worrying when he’s not feeling well. I just want him to know you aren’t as distant as he probably thinks, especially if it bothers you. If you wanted to get a little closer and help me with the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ gestures, that’d be a start.”

Grian was silent for a long time, brows creased tight above his eyes. “Maybe,” he said finally, almost quietly, “But not today. I’m too tired.”

“Yeah, me too,” Scar sighed, content, letting his head fall to rest on top of Grian’s, who squeaked, jumping so hard he accidentally jabbed at Scar’s chin with his shoulder. It must not have hurt though, because Scar didn’t seem to mind at all, unmoving. Slowly, Grian untensed, his head falling gently on Scar’s shoulder. Mumbo had a somewhat ridiculous pang of longing despite still holding a strong aversion to any human touch at all. They just looked so relaxed- anyone would wonder what it was like to be human. Though, while Scar closed his eyes, Grian didn’t quite look satisfied, something like conflict sitting across his features. He sat like that for a while, eyes moving, but not quite looking at anything at all, apparent restlessness building. Then he stopped. Closed his eyes. Opened them.

“Scar, are you aromantic or are you just fucking with me? Because I outright refuse to believe anyone is actually this clueless.”

Scar opened his eyes. Silence. “Uh oh.”

“Uh oh???” It was safe to say the two of them did not look relaxed anymore, Grian jerking away, “Scar, what does ‘uh oh’ mean. You can not just say ‘uh oh’ and nothing else.” Mumbo’s fins raised at the tone of his voice, but Mumbo cringed back when Grian whipped around to face him with an aggressive point. “No. You stay. Scar, I need you to say more right now.”

“I-Sleeping, I mean, we weren’t sleeping yet- but resting like- not friends? Not normal? Bdubs- I am going to strangle that man!”

“So you’re aromantic?” The words leapt off Grian’s tongue like an accusation, but he relaxed almost immediately after, sighing into his hands, “You’re aromantic. Okay. Good. Okay.”

“I- I mean I don’t love labels. I don’t really know, I don’t know much of anything at all, really. I’m sorry, Grian, I didn’t- did no one tell you I have a horrible track record for these things? Did you want me to ask you out? I still can.”

“Goodness, Scar, no! You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, you’ve just been sending incredibly mixed signals and I needed to know what was going on with you before my head exploded and my brains went all over the place and poor Mumbo would have to witness that and we don’t want that, do we? We don’t want that. This is fine, though, we just need to work out some boundaries.”

“What if I did want to though? To ask you out?”

Grian stared. Scar stared back.

“You do not want to.”

“I’ll have you know, I like you plenty a lot! I like you all sorts of ways, and if you also like me, then that’s cool! I’ll tell ya, when I had my little politics phase, my campaign manager was this great guy, Bdubs, we’re still friends, too, have you met him? Anyway, he’s a pretty touchy guy as well and he convinced me all sorts of things were totally normal friend stuff. Oh, we had this great cushy chair in our office and it was only really meant for one person, but sometimes we’d both be so tired and just squeeze into it and it wasn’t any sort of comfortable at all, but in a way it kinda was. Like inside. You know?”

“Scar, do you actually want to ask me out or are you just saying that because you think that’s what I wanted.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not what I asked.”

“Well, Grian, it really doesn’t matter to me either way!” Scar gave Grian a big smile, like these words were the ones that would definitively solve their dispute, but the expression started to drop when Grian looked mortified. “Is..” Scar started, unsure now, “Something wrong?”

Mumbo had never seen such a wide range of emotions cross Grian’s face before his head dropped onto his knees with a soft thunk. “No. It’s fine.”

Scar stared for a long while, a gentle churning of thought moving behind his eyes. He relaxed, scooching to give Grian a little space before smiling again, the expression soft. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Sure, Scar.” Grian’s voice was muffled between his knees, and given his face was covered, Mumbo had no idea how he was feeling.

“So there was this one time in high school where I was good friends with this girl, and she was awesome, just the best, and we hung out like constantly, and y’know how people get sometimes all pushy asking about dating and stuff, but you also know high schoolers who can’t communicate if their life was on the line. So all my friends are like dude, you guys are literally dating, aren’t you? And I say no! I insist we’re not every time, I insist! Yes, we went out together often and we talked for hours and her family had some money troubles so a lot of the time I offered to pay, you know, normal stuff, it was normal, I promise, but one day I get this call, right? From one of her friends! And this girl just starts ripping into me, like, seriously! She’s telling me all this stuff I had no idea about- telling me my friend is so confused, that she doesn’t feel pretty around me, that I’m always trying to avoid intimacy- that I refused to kiss her! And I was like what, whoa there! No one has ever tried to kiss me! Why are we talking about kissing people? She thought we were dating, Grian.”

“I got that.”

“And then she dumped me! My first breakup, and I didn’t even know! I was kinda bummed, too, I had always kinda wanted to kiss someone, but I thought they’d tell me first! Y’know, that they wanted to. I would have been so ready! The worst part is I think my guy friends were trying to tell me we were dating, not just teasing me. They also thought it was funny though, so. Who knows.”

“Yeesh.”

“I know, right! And this other time in college there was this other girl- we had mutual friends and stuff and we were at a party and just absolutely wasted and she grabbed me by the collar and she said ‘SCAR,’ she yelled in my face, she said ‘I’ve been FLIRTING with you for WEEKS and YOU’VE been flirting BACK. ARE YOU GAY?’ And I said, drunk, ‘A little bit!’ And then we danced all night. It was awesome. She was so cool. That kinda stuff happened a lot in college, actually. Guys are a bit more direct, which I appreciate. I’m a little stupid, I need the extra help sometimes.”

Grian tensed where he was sitting, quiet for a short pause before speaking, “You’re not stupid, Scar.”

“I mean. A little bit.”

“No. You’re not stupid.”

Scar was silent for a long while, staring despite Grian’s head still being buried in his knees. “I don’t know about that.”

Grian lifted his head, shaking it ‘no.’ He blinked a couple times before shaking his head again, a little more forcefully. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I shouldn’t have done that, I should’ve just talked to you like an adult and told you how I was feeling. Sometimes you’re just really confusing, and that’s not your fault, you just.. go about the world in a different way. And it’s not a bad way either, it’s not wrong. If people can’t communicate exactly how they’re feeling to you, that’s a them issue. You’re not stupid. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know, Scar. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I really thought we had some sort of understanding- and I did mean it when I said we could give this a shot. I like dating, Grian, I always have a lot of fun! I can be- I know I can be- I have trouble sometimes, I just ruin good things-”

“Scar, stop, please. I don’t want anything you don’t want. Period.”

Scar didn’t seem to know what to do with that, staring uselessly at his own hands before looking back up. “I want it, Grian,” he stressed, his arms trembling, but Grian only stared, lips gently parted.

They both looked.. So sad. Mumbo longed to help, to sing, to do something, but he was stuck outside of their world.

Grian extended his arms. “C’mere, buddy.”

Scar collapsed into them, shaking as he did. Grian didn’t move, rubbing slow circles on Scar’s back while he cried. There was a certain focus behind Grian’s eyes, a certain calm as he held his friend close, and Mumbo.. well, it was clear Grian didn’t need Mumbo’s help. So that was the power of human touch.

He’d have to learn it one day.

#hermitcraft #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fic #hermitshipping #scarian #desert duo #mumbomaid au #hermitfic

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incorrect-riordanverse · 7 months

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finally reading tsats here are my live thoughts (spoilers, obviously):

i’m so excited because some pages are darkly decorated and its so cool. still don’t vibe with the title though (the sun IS a star and its peeving me)

why are we talking about dating darth vader 😟 where are we rn (anakin is a yes, but DARTH VADER???)

maybe i’m too old but the jokes are not funny 😭

“this whole place feels like my soul. empty and dark. dark as the pit of the underworld.” <- i don’t care if he’s joking nico would never say thissss 🙏😭 we’re only 10 pages in but please stop butchering my fav character he’s not himselffff i am cringing so bad

i know i’m being dramatic but if they do nico dirty in this book i’m going to end it all

oh my god i don’t think i’ve thought about the words “significant annoyance” in so long. bringing back good memories for sure.

i can tell which parts were written by riordan and which parts were written by oshiro. i don’t think their voices are blending very well together…

also, maybe it’s because it’s the start of the book and they’re trying to familiarise new readers quickly with the characters but it feels like they’re making nico the caricature of ‘emo and shadow and ebony darkness dementia raven way 🥀⛓️🖤’ and will the caricature of ‘happy and sunshine and blonde and flower gleam and glow ☀️🌈🫧’ and i usually like this dynamic when it’s not blatantly pointed out every other page. i have faith they’ll show more complexity than this later on though. future yan will let me know by the end. (future yan here, im not at the end but the characterisation def does get more complex thank gods)

oh ok so it is bob the titan

since when was nico’s actual name niccolo??? how did i forget this detail??

“you have to listen if not you’ll share my fate.” “ominous much?” <- ok he’s finally himself again guys it’s all good

the one-sided beef nico has with percy will never not be funny

“cookie monster appeared over the mouth of the jar, reached inside and gobbled up nico like the chocolate-chip cookie he was.” <- nevermind i’ve gone back to hating this book again

“what was one straight boy when you spent your whole life longing for the impossible?” <- i’m reminded of that time a few years back where everyone made ‘having an unrequited crush on percy’ nico’s whole fanon personality, so i’m glad they addressed this somewhat. this boy has been through so much and people really thought crushing on percy was the biggest thing to focus on about ‘nico angst.’

“we made a mistake. you have to fix it.” <- call me a red flag but if i was nico i would do anything and everything to not go. i would medicate myself so highly on sleeping pills that i can’t dream (doctor bf can go kick rocks). i would track percy and annabeth down and haul their asses into tartarus instead to do it. and if i had to go i would only go in to kill bob myself for sending me those traumatic ass nightmares. no thx. bro willingly jumped in himself and now wants me to save him. nuh uh.

not cupid being will 😭 its like his aphrodite 😭 i am not well.

they always have a really good and emotionally moving scene and they ruin it with a dumb joke. let it be heavy 👏👏

something’s really fishy and i have a feeling that it might not be bob calling for him

if this whole “grumpy ball of darkness” thing continues i will actually lose it

you can’t tell me the percabeth pep talk was actually needed. i will forgive it because i miss them though

im sensing tension in the gap between nico’s connection to the underworld and his relationship with will and i’m here for ittttt. give me the dramaaa

who is the gorgyra girl and why is she in their business sm?

oh shit a will solace pov??? christmas came early 🙏

nevermind that whole nightmare sequence was so fucked up 😭😭

somebody HELP HIM i never thought we would get will angst (nico angst fs, but will???)

DONT JUMP IN THE STYX PLEASE

SOMEBODY TELL HIM HE’S HELPFUL OMG

nico strangling epiales in his sleep is so fucking cool he’s literally HIM he’s literally THAT GUY

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leakyweep · 6 months

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Doflamingo x gn!Reader - Patience

@kyuuin9in ; Morning, hope you’re doing better! It’s 💜 anon, decided to come off anon for the request. :D I’ve had this on my mind for a while; how would Doffy feel if he met someone who actually read him like an open book to the point where his s/o actively (but not verbally) tries to teach him healthier habits, such as handing him a glass of water instead of letting him reach for the bottle of wine after a nightmare, proving him with emotional support without outright asking him about it and not expecting him to tell her about it. But also being basically attached to the hip to him and just doing things for him without him asking her to. He’s thinking about getting some salt? Well, would you look at that his s/o already passed it to him. (I also think his s/o wouldn’t like Trebol too much cause he’s an active enabler of Doffy’s bad habits 💀💀)

A/N ; Thank you for this lovely request! Writing Doffy being soft is so fun and challenging, so I hope you enjoy <3

Words ; 0.8k

Warnings ; None, just pure fluff. Although this fic is sfw, my blog is not. Minors, you are not welcome on my blog. Thank you.

Being with Doflamingo was a full time job. It didn’t matter that you lived under his income, under the roof of his stone palace, in his pink satin sheets. You helped out the servants in your free time, making up for the harsh side Doffy always showed the helpful staff. You stood in the kitchen, cutting vegetables, preparing lettuce, learning how long to cook meat to the exact temperature the master enjoyed. You found the servants to be quite pleasant; and while your husband was off in some meeting, you got to know his underlings, smiling and listening to their interesting stories and anecdotes.

At the end of the day, when changing into your silk pajamas in front of your beloved, he asked you why in the hell you spent your days folding laundry with his servants, thanking them at the dinner table, tucking them in and telling them about the days you spent on the sea when you would join him on his expeditions – and your answer was simple.

“They’re people too.”

This made him… think. In his office, in bed, with the other members of the royal family. Of course, your least favorite cohort, Trebol, had many negative things to say about your kindness. He found it pathetic, trying his best to convince Doffy you were his weakest link, that your emotions were too strong. Of course, this made your love see red, grabbing his closest commander by the collar to tell him never to speak about you that way. Although your heart swelled, it discouraged you from being around Trebol for long bouts of time.

One particular night, you had joined him in bed later than usual, too caught up in your screaming thoughts as loud as a freight train in your ears. Sitting in the plush armchair Doffy had gifted you for a birthday in the past, you watched the moon slowly ascend into its place in the dark sky, trying your best to focus on all the good things in your life, the most prominent being the large, snoring figure just feet behind you, sleeping wistfully beneath his heavy comforter. This was short lived, though, when he was snapped awake by a harsh nightmare, his breaths ragged and uneven.

You turned from your seat to ask him what was wrong, but before you could, his large hand reached for the bottle of red wine on his bedside table. You frowned at him and when his golden eyes met yours, you shook your head.

“Darling, let me put that away for you. I’ll grab you some water.” Your footsteps were soft against the carpet as you took the bottle before he could argue. You disappeared to the kitchen to grab a glass of cold water for him as he pouted like a little boy who got his toy taken away. His expression upon rearrival made you chuckle gently while handing him the glass. With a roll of his eyes a mumble of gratitude, he took the glass and sipped. He fell back asleep in your arms that night, your manicured nails gliding through his blonde locks to calm him back to his dreamland.

Over time, you began to learn small habits to change for his well being – wine was forever replaced with water on his bedside table, you found yourself passing him things before he could ask at the dinner table, learning his triggers to help him calm himself when he was tested, being his kind ambassador when going to the town to enjoy the nightlife. You wouldn’t change it for the world, you thought. You loved this man – and you realized that while he was ruthless, powerful, and malicious, he also had feelings, and he just needed a little help dealing with them in a self-sustaining way.

Doffy’s heart had grown a few sizes since meeting you, or so he was convinced. The way you were kind to every living creature, how you spoke to children and laughed at their terrible jokes in the streets of Dressrosa, your calming tone as he felt those tendrils of anger threaten to choke him and devour him whole and completely dissipate at the sound of your voice – it all drew him closer to you, wanting to smother himself in the absolutely pure and selfless aura that radiated from your smooth skin. Hearing your laugh after a long day of work and dealing with absolute imbeciles was like medicine. Making love to you was like nothing he had felt before. All these things combined into one, and Doffy was marrying you within the next year.

You were thankful for him, just as he was for you. And you knew as you grew old together, he would change, and he would grow, and that he just needed time.

You were willing to be patient with him until the end of time.

#doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x you #donquixote doflamingo #one piece #op #doffy #liv writes #fanfic #just a q

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outro-jo · 1 year

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when you watch the next episode without svt

pairing: svt x reader

type: reaction

warnings: none really, grumpy boys, emotionally manipulative jeonghan 🙄

request: not really but my friend gave me the idea

a/n: please read info before requesting 🩵

masterlist | info

———————————

scoups- he had been looking forward to this for days. it got him through long practices and times when the boys were bugging him. when he needed to go to a happy place he would just think about being cuddled up to you and finally finding out what happens to your beloved protagonist. the second the spoiler left your lips his heart sank and his lips poked out in a pout. “wait, you watched it without me?” he of course sat through it with you but he pouted the entire time.

jeonghan- he knew you did but that wasn’t gonna stop him from making you feel terrible about it. “babe! are you serious! i was looking forward to finding out what happens with you! i’ve been waiting all week.” it was absolutely a lie. as soon as he saw the little red bar across the episode thumbnail, he knew exactly what you had done and immediately watched the episode. he wasn’t about to let you know that now, not when you were making his favorite dinner and then sat down to cuddle him while watching the episode. you kept giving little kisses of apology… until he spoiled the episode himself. “oops?”

joshua- he honestly doesn’t care. our unbothered king only really waits because you care about it so much but he knows with his schedule and how impatient you are that he may not always get to watch episodes with you. he’ll tease you a little about your impatience but at the end of the day he just loves spending time with you so he watches it with you anyways.

jun- he’s not mad… just disappointed. one of his favorite things about watching shows with you is seeing your reactions because you’re so expressive. sometimes you immerse yourself so much in shows that you’ll take things personally and he finds it adorable. now he doesn’t get to see your reaction to probably one of the best moments in the season. it’s nothing that some cuddles can’t fix though.

hoshi- our tiger is OFFENDED. you spent the entire season reminding him not to watch episodes without you, you’d send texts and scold him, only to not even listen yourself. it doesn’t matter how many times you apologize, he still sits on the sofa with his arms crossed and his lips in a pout. he’ll talk about it even days later and it took a LOT of convincing to start a new show together again.

wonwoo- he honestly thinks it’s funny. it’s amusing to him that you’re so impatient that you can’t wait and he’s still just excited to see what happens even if you already know. he loves the way you can hardly contain yourself with the big plot twist and loves the way you glance over at him to see how he’s going to react.

woozi- annoyed. he knew it would be a while before you could see the big finale of your show with his work schedule but you promised him. he also knows how upset you’d be if he did the same to you and honestly he just wants the same kind of respect.

dk- ooohhh he’s pretty irritated but our sunshine isn’t one to be too confrontational so he keeps it to himself. he gives you a warm smile and tells you it’s ok but man, is he side eyeing you HARD while he’s watching.

mingyu- mingyu is PISSED. he can’t believe you’d watch it without him after you two had invested so much in the season. you knew how much this show meant to him and how much he loves watching it with you and you just couldn’t help yourself. but with some aegyo apologies and lots of kisses, he’ll learn to forgive you.

the8- to be honest, you and minghao have VERY different tastes in shows so when you finally found one you could agree on it was nothing short of a miracle. when the final episode came out he told you it might be a few days before he could come watch it with you and you were disappointed but you understood. minghao wasn’t so upset that you watched it without him, it was more that you didn’t say anything when you did and pretended like you hadn’t seen it. it kinda felt like you were lying to him and he HATES lying. once the two of you talked it out though you were all good.

seungkwan- he made a BIIIGGG deal about it. he was ranting and raving for a good thirty minutes and you just let him. it was your fault after all but once he got it out of his system, he sat down and watched it with you. he also side eyed you for a while but once it got to the good stuff he was so shocked you two feel right back into your usual dynamics. you still had to make it up to him somehow though.

vernon- another unbothered king. he was watching this show mostly for you and knew you probably couldn’t wait anyways so he almost expected it. he chuckled a little and asked if it was good but you refused to spoil anything for him. he agreed that it was good but he’s so lowkey, he never really gives you any sort of crazy reaction. your reliable vernon.

dino- another one who was disappointed but he’s so in love with you it doesn’t really matter what you do. you can do no wrong in his eyes. while he was a little sad, he still sat down with you and enjoyed the show. he also enjoyed the kisses to make up for your mistake.

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nfr-girly · 3 months

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Little Hope - Bradley Bradshaw x reader (Part 3)

a/n: this one’s a little longer, not sure wether to make part 4 the last part or part 5, but hope you like it! x

part 1 part 2

Hope had settled in nicely to pre-school. She had made a good amount of friends and Bradley’s nerves were completely gone upon seeing how happy she was.

Every now and then Bradley and Y/N would talk, usually either about Hope, or the Navy. Bradley cherished the few minutes they spent talking, as he knew he would never be able to go any further with them.

Y/N knew it was unprofessional to have a crush on a parent, she had tried to get over her little crush on him, but every time he walked in she could feel herself fall even more.

Your POV

As im sorting out my classroom, a few of my students, including Hope, colour as they wait for their parents. Today Hopes uncle, technically family friend, is picking her up today. So I didn’t glam up as much as I usually did..

“Mavvy!! Hope runs up to the man, who I assume is Maverick, and hugs him.

“Hey kiddo!! Listen you and me have got a fun day planned, me and Penny are gonna get you some ice cream, then we’ll take you to the beach. That sound good?”

“uhuh” she nodded

I walk over to maverick and shake his hand

“Hi I’m Hopes teacher, you must be Maverick?”

“Yeah well my real names Pete but thats my call sign, everyone calls me it. Nice to meet you” he says shaking my hand back.

“I’ll just go grab Hopes things for you!” I walk over to Hopes peg, before I hear some whispering

“Hey kid, is she the one your dad’s always talking about?”

I pause in my steps. The one your dads always talking about? He wasn’t talking about me? Right?

“Yep, daddy was right Miss L/N is very pretty. I think he has a crush on her.” Hope whispers that last part a lot quieter, but I still hear it.

“Well I think you need to start playing Cupid”

Hope gasps in excitement. Redness fills my cheeks as I try to comprehend the conversation I unintentionally eavesdropped in.

I realise I’ve been stood at the peg for way too long, and quickly grab her things and walk over.

“Here’s hopes things, are you doing anything nice this weekend?” I bend down to hopes height so she doesn’t have to look up.

“Yep, my dad and uncle mavvy are taking me to the beach, they’re going to play football.”

“Well that sounds like a lot of fun!”

“You know Y/N if you’d like you can come to watch! It’s mostly boys but there is a woman named natasha. I’m sure you guys would get along.”

“Yes please miss L/N please come!!” Hope jumps up and down in excitement

I pick myself back up and think. Would it be weird to go? I am Hopes teacher after all. But I suppose I couldn’t miss out on such a generous invitation.

“Okay sure! Which area of the beach is it? I’ll get an uber there” I ask

“Oh no we can pick you up. What’s your address?”

I gave him my address and we specified I meet them outside my apartment at 9.

“Thanks so much again for the invitation. I’ll see you then. Bye hope!” I wave at them as they walk towards their car. Did I make a mistake? Probably. Did I care? No.

The next day: Saturday

I’m deciding what to wear to the beach. I can’t put on much revealing. Hopes gonna be there, so will Bradley. I decide to go with shorts, and a short sleeve top.

I get a text from maverick that they’re outside. I can only assume Bradley’s there in the car with them. God what is he doesn’t know I’m coming? He’ll be so weirded out by me. What am I doing??

Bradley’s POV

Maverick comes to a stop next to an apartment building, I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

“Hey why are we stopping?”

“To pick up miss L/N” Hope yells out before Pete can get a word in. But my heart stops.

What did she mean we’re here to pick up Y/N?

“Wait what? Pete what’s she talking about?” I started to get annoyed, but also worried. Pete knew about my stupid crush on Y/N. I didn’t think he’d do something about it though.

“Listen, you and me both know you aren’t gonna do shit about your feelings for that girl. So me and Hope decided to invite her to the game. She’s only watching and on the plus side she could watch Hope.”

“What and you didn’t even ask me first?” I ask, starting to get frustrated

“You can act mad, but are you gonna pretend that you aren’t thrilled about actually being able to talk to her for more than 5 seconds?”

Despite my frustration. That shut me up quick.

“She’s here!!” I hear Hope squeal out. I turn my head to the right and see her. Oh my god..

“I’ll go help her with her bags” Pete says before getting out.

I would protest to do it myself, but I’m caught in a trance and I can’t get out. Was it possible for any woman to be that beautiful?

She had decided to wear shorts with a top. Did she know how cute she looked? I snap out of my trance when I realise she has just gotten into the car.

I turn my head to look at her and she looked at me. No words were spoke yet we said so much. She smiled at me before smiling at hope

“Hello Hope how are you doing?” She asked

“I’m okay, you look really pretty miss L/N”

“Aw thank you very much, you look pretty too, I love your bow”

Hope giggled and y/n smiled and then turned to me

“Hey Bradley, how are you?” She asked

I take a moment to conjure up my thoughts, not processing what she had just asked me, being too fixated on her

“Oh uh- yeah sorry I’m great thanks, y-you look great by the way” I immediately regret asking that and internally slapped myself

Her cheeks go red for a moment before responding

“Oh- thank you um, you don’t look too bad yourself” she smiles, suddenly becoming shy

“Okay we ready to hit the road?” Pete asks putting his seatbelt on

We all nod and he starts driving. God. What am I going to do?

————————————————————————

taglist 👇

@leahnicole1219

@itsdesiree86

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #top gun maverick

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sorialice · 11 months

Text

Onceler x Reader Fluff!! (rainy day)

neutral pronouns :D

for @pinkystarwberry !! hope it turns out alright <3

ignore this i got it off google i have no clue who to credit ^^

You woke up to the sound of rain pattering on the windows of the Onceler’s wagon. You’d been staying with him every now and then after coming across him singing and dancing with a bunch of… barbaloots in the truffula forest? It was a strange sight for sure, as you had just been taking a walk that day only to witness such a beautiful scene. The truffula forest of course, not the Onceler! You didn’t have any feelings for him at all… Back then at least. The two of you had started dating after many weeks spent together supporting his thneed business. It hadn’t gone anywhere yet, but you were sure it would eventually. Probably. Sure hope it doesn’t go overboard and cause massive destruction to this beautiful forest!

Turning to face the interior of the wagon, you rubbed your eyes and stretched. The Onceler was probably already in town advertising his invention.

But it’s raining, isn’t it? So he wouldn’t be out… Does that mean?

Suddenly you catch the scent of something sweet in the air. Is that…

“Good morning Y/N! I made pancakes. Way too many actually. How many do you want? There’s gotta be tons leftover I won’t be able to finish.”

The Onceler was standing by his little makeshift stovetop, flipping pancakes and humming a silly tune. He was still wearing his blue and yellow bunny pajama set, but with an apron over top. You hadn’t noticed it before, but the apron was covered in little pink hearts.

“I didn’t realize you’d be home. Usually you aren’t back until a few hours after I’ve woken up. Maybe i’ll have… P/P/N?” (preferred pancake number. i don’t judge, i won’t pick for you! also can be pee-pee-nut if you prefer.)

The Onceler handed you a plate and flipped your pancakes across the room into a graceful stack on top. He then picked up an already pancaked plate and walked over, sitting beside you on the bed. The rain was coming down harder now. It must have been around noon, but it was still as dark out as it would be in the middle of the night. You noticed a flash out of the corner of your eye, and suddenly…

CRAZH BANG BOOM OH NO!!1!1!

The thunder surprised you, and you screamed a little, jumping from your place on the comfy orangey-red sheets. Onceler was startled too, but not nearly as much. You fell back into his arms, knocking your pancakes all over the place.

“Oh no… I’m so sorry Oncie. The two bites I had were really good…”

“Don’t worry about it Y/N! I did tell you I made tons.”

The Onceler sliced a piece with his fork and put it up to your mouth. You were hesitant and a little embarrassed, but ate it. CRASH BANG OH ITS MORE THUNDER HOW TERRIBLE!! You jumped a little again, this time closer the Onceler, and nuzzled your head into his chest. He reached for a blanket and wrapped it around you both. You looked up into his pretty blue eyes, and he planted a kiss on your forehead.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m here. The storm should calm down soon.”

He sliced another portion of his pancakes and fed them to you, stroking your hair and giving you occasional kisses anywhere he could reach. The two of you spent the rest of the evening cuddling, eating pancakes, and listening to the rain.

hope that was okay for my first fic! boy am i glad the onceler is real and i actually just made up the miserable life i’m living. i’m so glad i’m getting the physical contact i need! i love being healthy!! KEEP THE REQUESTS COMING I NEED IT

#onceler #fanfiction #fanfic #the lorax #the onceler #greedler x reader #greedler #onceler x reader #the onceler x reader #lorax fandom #fluff #fluff fanfic #fanfic fluff #onceler fanart #rainy day #someone please give me tips on how to have a good summer when i already know i’m gonna spend the whole thing mourning my breakup

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austinsmutler · 2 years

Text

Just Pretend | Austin!Elvis x Reader | One-Shot

Summary: Elvis calls you up while he's on tour to tell you how much he misses you.

Pairing: Austin!Elvis x Reader, Elvis x Reader

What you’ll like: Oh, this is just tooth-achingly fluffy. I've met pomeranians less fluffy than this one. For added points listen to Just Pretend while you read.

Warnings: None, Elvis just really misses you and you miss him so it's a lil sad but it's also cute.

Word Count: 776

A/N: Written because I had a crappy day at work and I needed it.

Masterlist | Requests are currently open (Please tell me everything you want! Confess your sins! Have a good time with it!)

“Baby?”

Elvis’ hand shook just holding the phone. Just waiting for an answer.

“Elvis?” Your voice crackled through the receiver, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s good to hear your voice.”

“I missed you too.” On the other side of the state, your fingers played with the telephone wire. “How’s the tour?”

“We're in Mississippi, heading to Alabama next week. They love me here.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I am! I just…” He took a breath loud enough for you to hear on the other end of the country. “Haven’t heard your voice in so long, angel.”

His voice had you leaning up against the wall and smiling sadly to yourself. Every day the papers came out with a new theory on who Elvis could be dating- or worse, saying he was having flings left and right with fans all across the country. The way he sounded, though, made it feel like he’d been feeling all the same things you had. You missed him so much it felt like a piece of you was missing. Like someone’d taken the red out of every bouquet of roses, no matter how many he sent from five states away.

“I just wanna come flyin’ back to you.” He said after a while. “I love the music. I love performing. But I…”

I love you more. It was the phrase he could never quite bring himself to say. You bit your lip, knowing it wasn’t true. Nothing could compare to the love he felt when he was up on stage, or the adrenaline rush that came after. But you were lucky enough to come close, and sometimes that was enough. Hearing his voice made it enough.

“Just pretend I’m right there.” You whispered into the receiver, closing your eyes and picturing the last time you’d seen Elvis. He’d hugged you so tight, made a million promises to be home soon. “Or that you never left. We’re back in Memphis, walking down Beale street together. Window shopping for things we can’t afford.”

“You’d look so pretty in any of those dresses, baby.”

“And you’d cut a mean figure in any of those suits.” You bit your lip. How can pretending to be together hurt more than being apart? It hurt more than remembering the countless days spent just like that, wandering Beale street and taking in all the brightness and beauty of Memphis.

“Can I take your hand?” He breathed into the phone. “I’ve missed doing that.”

You couldn’t be seen in public together. Colonel’s orders. If you did go out together, it had to be as part of a group, with multiple women. Fans and a few male bandmates. Someone else would hold your hand to throw reporters off the scent, or pull you close to make it look real in the photographs- and it killed both of you every time, so eventually you’d stopped going out. Now you had to be snuck into Graceland through the side-door just to hold him.

“Yes.” Tears were in your eyes now, and part of you was glad he wasn’t there to see them. Another part wanted nothing more than for him to be there, wiping them away with soft touches. “I love it when you take my hand.”

A long moment of silence let you savour the feel of his fingers lacing with yours. Just pretend.

“It’s so sunny out.” He chuckled, but you heard the vulnerability in it. He’s as close to tears as I am. “S’nice.”

You looked out of the window in your bedroom. It was dark out, but you were picturing Beale Street on a July day, packed with people.

“It’s hot, though.” A smile crept to your lips and he knew what you were thinking before you said it. “Club Handy?”

“Club Handy, baby.”

“Club handy always has the best music.”

“You been goin’ without me?”

“Never.” It hurt too much. As much as you missed BB King, as much as you loved the music from Little Richard, Sister Rosetta, and Big Mama Thornton, it was impossible to see the club without Elvis-coloured glasses, and it hurt. He was everywhere, from the moves on the dancefloor to the sounds of the stage, but he was nowhere at the same time. Too far away to touch. “I miss it sometimes. But the music doesn’t sound the same when you’re not with me.”

The other end of the line was quiet, and for a moment you worried something was wrong. Maybe Elvis had left the phone, or run out of quarters, if it was a pay phone; maybe he’d just decided it wasn’t worth him feeling like this anymore just to be with you. Phone calls never felt like enough.

Then his voice came through, clear and soft and melodic.

“Just pretend, I'm holding you

And whispering things soft and low

And think of me, how it's gonna be

Just pretend I didn't go

I will hold you and love you again

But until then, we'll just pretend.”

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team-avia · 9 months

Note

Okay so my insomnia is really bad so I’m going to force you to listen to my raving and rambling about RL theories because I saw some old promotional stuff and now my mind is galaxy braining right now

SO HERE IT GOES

(Sorry if this has been brought up before btw and is old news)

Obvious potential spoilers!!! Beware everyone else!!!

This motherfucking promo image is the source of my thoughts, especially after playing Cass’s and Bella’s demo. Particularly the symbols used for every character:

Cassandra: obviously an prodigy actress and star of the department but the further we get into her demo we realize there’s more behind the diva persona than meets the eye— hence the symbol, while classic in theater, can also reflect her emotional state and her need to cover it up with smiles and arrogance. Her nightmares and sense of commitment to potential romantic lovers maybe be a symptom of a more deep reason.

Bela: THE HEART like bruh obviously it in reference to whatever Miranda did to her before the game started—being heartless and what not. And how she’ll eventually regain her ‘heart’ if we go down the route right.

Daniela: so far she’s seems normal, well adjusted, and tame in comparison to her sisters. Key world being SEEMS. There’s definitely something broiling beneath the surface with her and I bet it has to do with her family troubles and her always putting on a brave face. Hence the rose but the notable thorns beneath it. Every rose has its thorns and what not. Idk if it has anything to do with the rowdy crowd she associates with.

Angie: the doll obviously fitting her RE origin and over all her personality, sweet, kind, and maybe bombastic. But look closely—there’s a tear on the doll’s face. Like Cass (and maybe Dani) she has a mask—aka being a party animal and overall alcoholic. It may have something to do with being Donna’s niece and I’m assuming Claudia’s daughter. But where’s the latter???? I’m sensing a dark back story here and her maladapting to her mother’s death.

The last three are the hardest to theorize because we haven’t seen much of them in the Demos but I’ll slightly theorize here:

Donna: the recluse of the campus is pictured with a syringe. Could be a nod to her RE origin being with her pollen/hallucinations but could also have to do with why she’s so shy and introverted. Maybe in the similar vein to Angie’s, what with her sister and what not.

Alcina: Wine is an obvious choose to use for her. Bitch loves her red. Idk what else to pull from this. Again hard to speculate with no demo introducing her. It’s giving wine mom energy and not in the fun way.

Miranda: this bitch has some fucking powers or something—giving hag in the swamp vibes and doing shit to people. Bela with her heartlessness (and maybe Cass’s nightmares?). Also Mia being a witchy gal and giving Miranda a gift that’s warm? Hella sus. The Corvus skull is obvious to her RE origins but also a nod to witchcraft and supernatural things. Also a symbol of death. Bitch be brewing shit idk.

Anyways those are my thoughts. Idk how accurate this is and, based on how old the pic is, could be completely wrong. I’ve spent too many hours thinking on the Demo for it to be healthy so this was a long time coming.

Feel free to cuss me out for how wrong I am. I just needed to get my thoughts out there.

Make sure you take care of yourselves! Love you guys! Stay safe and healthy!

I DONT KNOW HOW TO RESPOND TO THIS WITHOUT SPOILING ANYTHING BUT

thank you for noticing the little details 😭 ❤️ ive been waiting for someone to notice HAHAHAHA

finch

#mail 💌#finchmod🌻#ALSO if anyone wants to theorize some more PAY ATTENTION TO EVERYONES EYES!! even the npcs!! theres a reason some are different :)#ALSO I HOPE YOURE DOING WELL DESPITE INSOMNIA #🍞🍞🍞🍞 may your day be blessed with bread

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parkitaco · 1 year

Note

byler 50 for the ask game i need this for reasons

Will Byers is good with secrets.

He hasn't had much of a choice, honestly, given the types of secrets he has. When he was younger, his biggest secret was liking boys. Then it was liking one boy, specifically, and then it was monsters and hell dimensions and government-issued secrets that he legally wasn't allowed to tell anyone. He'd never admit this, but those secrets were far easier to keep than the first two. He’s spent a good portion of his days learning how to keep quiet, how to omit information when necessary, how to keep his lies, on the rare occasions that he needs them, simple and believable.

(Okay, there had been one exception to the simple and believable thing, last year in that godforsaken van, but that was an outlier, okay? He’d been overtired and probably contact high and Mike had been freaking the fuck out, so he’d- he’d gone a little overboard with that one. Whatever. Everything turned out fine in the end - better than fine, even.)

Mike Wheeler, on the other hand, is not so good at keeping secrets.

Will chalks most of this up to his boyfriend’s general lack of a filter - Mike has never shied away from saying what he’s thinking, and a lot of the time, what he’s thinking happens to be terribly incriminating. He knows that Mike has had to keep secrets too - secrets that, as it turns out, line up almost exactly with the ones Will’s been keeping. And to his credit, Mike had managed to keep most of those for a decent amount of time, but the ways in which he kept them were significantly- well, there was a lot less delicacy, in Mike’s case.

Will doesn’t blame him for any of it, of course, because he knows how Mike’s brain works and knows that he doesn’t mean any harm, but it does make being his boyfriend - more specifically, his secret boyfriend - a bit tricky.

Like right now, for instance. They’re sitting in the basement with the rest of the Party, and Mike’s all curled up against Will’s side in an entirely incriminating manner. He’s also wearing Will’s sweater, which he could maybe have gotten away with under normal circumstances, but throw in the fact that this is the third time this week that he’s showed up in public wearing Will’s clothes, and- well, Will’s pretty sure the Party’s onto them at this point anyway.

“Mike, what do you think?” Dustin asks, and Mike stirs against Will’s side, blinking blearily at him.

“About what?” he asks absently, shifting and wriggling closer to Will, who is barely suppressing an eye roll.

Lucas looks like he’s on the verge of laughter. “Dude, were you listening at all? We’re trying to decide what movie to watch.”

“Oh,” Mike hums, and Will can feel the sound from where Mike’s chest is tucked up against his arm. “Uh, whatever you guys want, I don’t care.”

At this, the entire Party levels him with matching looks of concern - even Will glances down at him with an eyebrow raised.

“You don’t care,” Max repeats slowly, staring at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not have an opinion on something.”

Mike’s face flushes adorably red, and he looks like he’s seconds away from hiding his face away against Will’s shoulder, which would probably seal their fate as the most obvious couple of all time. Will elbows him, bugging his eyes out, and Mike clears his throat quickly as he sits up a little straighter, less like he’s curling as close to Will as he can get, which was, of course, exactly what he was doing. It’s still not- an entirely platonic position, with Mike’s thigh still pressed flush against Will’s and his fingers brushing Will’s where his hand rests on his knee, like he’s fighting the urge to thread their fingers together, but it’s- well, it’s a slight improvement. Even if Will’s side is now upsettingly cold where Mike was just leaned up against it.

“I’m, uh,” Mike starts, and Will immediately thinks oh, no, “I’m focused on more important things.”

Will resists the urge to bury his face in his hands.

“What sort of important things?” El asks, looking entirely amused, and Will glares at her, willing her to stop talking.

“Um,” Mike says, looking more flustered by the moment. “You know. I was thinking about- world peace. College applications. The future. My history project due on Monday. How to get my Spanish grade up. The SATs. What to do about-”

“Okay,” Will cuts in, sensing an onslaught of true Mike Wheeler word vomit brewing, and he reaches over with one hand to clamp his palm over Mike’s mouth. “We get it, Mike.”

Mike looks, for all intents and purposes, entirely relieved at the interruption, and he slumps back against Will’s side, because clearly he’s learned nothing from the past few minutes. “We should watch Star Wars,” he says against Will’s palm, the sound muffled from the contact, and it’s all Will can do to repress the shudder that runs through him at the feeling of Mike’s lips moving against his palm.

He must see the expression on Will’s face, or something, because all at once a gleeful glint appears in Mike’s eyes, and he presses his lips more flush against Will’s hand, kissing it firmly, because clearly he’s trying to give Will a heart attack.

Thankfully, the rest of the Party doesn’t seem to notice, having gone back to squabbling over movie options as soon as Mike stopped talking, and for once in his life Will is grateful for his friends’ short attention spans. Even so, he retracts his hand, sending Mike a burning glare that is probably entirely undercut by the blush in his cheeks, and Mike grins proudly to himself, turning to face the screen as it flickers to life. His leg presses against Will’s, firm and purposeful, and Will allows himself to be a little bit stupid about it when he presses back, biting his lip to hide a smile.

Mike’s pinky finger links through his, and Will forgets to worry.

It’s only later, when they’re standing in the kitchen together after the Party leaves, throwing out the last of the trash from downstairs and placing the popcorn bowl in the sink, that Will decides to make fun.

“I can’t believe you,” he says, shaking his head good-naturedly as he wets a sponge and begins scrubbing at the stubborn butter stains on the inside of the popcorn bowl. “Your Spanish grade, Mike, really?”

“Hey, I was doing my best!” Mike yelps, shoving the empty Dorito bag onto top of the already-full garbage can and walking over to stand beside Will at the sink. “You were no help.”

“I wasn’t the problem,” Will murmurs, smirking and not looking up from the bowl.

Mike glances down, watching him scrub at it. “You don’t have to do that,” he says, reaching over to tug the sponge out of Will’s hand, and Will gives him a look even as his fingers go slack and he turns to face Mike, one hip pressed against the counter. “And don’t you want to know what I was actually thinking about?”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say that it was-”

“I was thinking about you,” Mike interrupts before Will can finish being sarcastic, dropping the sponge unceremoniously on the counter and twisting around to mirror Will’s position, hand pressing against the top of Will’s against the counter.

Will presses down a smile. “You don’t say.”

“I was thinking,” Mike continues, not noticing Will’s facetious tone, or maybe he just doesn’t care, which is probably more likely, “about what it would be like to not think twice about sitting next to you on movie nights, and I was thinking about how much I like cuddling with you on the couch and how I want to do that all the time, and I was thinking- that I love you, basically.”

It’s nothing Will hasn’t heard from Mike before, but his face flushes anyway, and he shifts a little closer, the hand that’s not gripping the counter rising up to cup the side of Mike’s neck. “I love you too,” he says. “And- we will get to do those things. Eventually. Just- not right now.”

“Not right now,” Mike agrees, bobbing his head, because really, the whole secret thing had mostly been Mike’s idea in the first place. It’s almost funny, how in the beginning, Mike was the scared one who wanted to keep them a secret, and Will who willingly obliged, maybe a little selfishly, because he wanted Mike Wheeler all to himself for a little while, but this whole time, Will is the one who’s been better at hiding. Mike’s ready to stop hiding now, probably, if this conversation is any indication - almost, anyway. They’ll get there soon. Plus, the Party definitely already knows, so that takes some of the pressure off.

“You’re so pretty,” Mike murmurs, tilting his forehead to press against Will’s, and Will’s flush deepens, a pleased smile spreading across his face. “Have I told you that?”

“Yes,” Will laughs, as Mike’s free arm wraps around his waist and tugs him in closer, chests bumping.

“Oh,” Mike says, grinning teasingly, “Well, have I also told you that you’re my favorite person ever? And that you’re the smartest and bravest person I know, and that I’m so lucky to have you, and that-”

“Okay,” Will says for the second time tonight, laughing quietly, and he brings up the hand that’s been pressed against the counter and presses his fingertips against Mike’s lips gently. “I appreciate it, Mike, I really do, but I kind of really need you to shut up right now.”

“Why?” Mike asks around his fingers, feigning a pout, and Will grins as he slips his hand away from Mike’s face to cup the back of his neck instead.

“So I can do this,” Will murmurs, and tugs him in sharply, pressing their lips together firmly, and whatever fake-complaint Mike had locked and loaded seems to vanish instantly, his grip on Will loose and relaxed as he smiles into the kiss. He tastes sweet, like buttered popcorn and candy, these moments always made a little more special by the fact that they don’t get very many of them. Will would like to kiss Mike Wheeler more often that he does, maybe, like, all the time, actually, and the possibility that he could actually have that sometime soon has him smiling against Mike’s mouth and curling a hand through his hair, gentle and loving and sweet.

“You know,” Mike says against his mouth, pulling back a little, “If you had just said so, I would have stopped talking way sooner-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Will interrupts, hazy and kissed red and needing to be kissed again immediately. “Shut up, shut up, shut up-”

“Okay,” Mike says, and when Will goes in for another kiss, he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

#you're so right anon ty for this (50 - putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up)#byler ficlet #byler #established relationship #secret relationship #mike wheeler #will byers #the party

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fanficshiddles · 20 hours

Text

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 51

‘I did it because having you alive and hating me, is better than not having you alive at all.’

Claire’s heart broke at hearing Chris’ words. Judging by the look on Loki’s face, she had a feeling that his heart did too…

Loki said nothing at first, his mouth was open in shock at Chris’ admission.

‘You… you knew I didn’t want to be turned.’ Loki said gruffly.

‘You were dying in my arms, Loki. I loved you, so much. More than anyone else. When I first held you as a baby, I knew I’d do anything for my little brother. I was not about to just let you die.’ Chris yelled at Loki and turned away, his back to them.

Loki looked down, Claire saw the pained expression on his face.

‘If you just stopped killing innocent people, like dad did. You terrified me that day.’ Loki said quietly.

Chris turned around. ‘It’s not that easy. I’m addicted to the feeling I get when my victims are scared, the rush of power and the taste of their blood, it’s fresher and rich, I can’t help it. You’ve never been able to accept it, but I don’t care.’ Chris growled low.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. ‘I get it, Claire’s blood is the most delicious thing in the world, but I can control myself. I can stop without killing her. You could too, you don’t need to kill them after!’

‘I don’t care about them. Their lives are just fleeting in comparison to us, it will happen sooner or later. Whether I’m here or not. Vampires will overtake.’

‘Would you say that if your soulmate turns out to be human?’ Claire asked.

Chris glared at her. ‘I don’t have a soulmate.’

‘You do, somewhere.’ Loki said. 'Every vampire has a soulmate.'

‘I’ve been to every single town and city in the world, spent weeks at each place, searched in clubs, bars, restaurants, everywhere. A soulmate for me doesn’t exist.’ Chris snarled, though his voice broke a little near the end.

‘Tell Loki what you told me about your job.’ Claire said softly.

Chris clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at Claire, then he looked at Loki with a sigh. He put his hands on his hips.

‘Fine. You want the truth? Look, I’m sorry for kidnapping Claire. For trying to hurt you. I was jealous when Claire first came along, that your soulmate literally just walked right into your life when I’ve spent centuries searching for mine. Then when dad told us about the school board wanting you to have my job, I snapped. I love that job, I love my students, vampires and humans. Seeing them thrive and grow, getting excited for being accepted into Universities or Colleges that they applied for, getting jobs that they’ve dreamed of. Helping the young vampires work their way through their first few years where their instincts are at their strongest. The thought of it all being taken away… especially by you, just made me see red. You’ve got everything I want, but you wouldn’t have if I didn’t turn you. Being a vampire isn’t so bad, is it? Better than being dead, surely? Yet you’ve never forgiven me for making that decision, to save my little brother in the only way possible.’

It was then Loki’s turn to get emotional. Claire saw the realisation wash over Loki’s face, his eyes began to water as he stepped backwards until he was leant against the table for support.

‘I… I didn’t realise you’d been searching for your soulmate. I also didn’t realise how much it affected you when I was hit by the car… I’ve been a fool… You’re not wrong, being a vampire is better than death. I just… I just didn’t see it at the time and was so angry and scared at the same time, it clouded my judgement. I’m… sorry, for not being thankful that you saved me. For not ever listening or giving you a chance.

I looked up to you so much, Chris. As my big brother. You were always there for me, looking out for me. When I was told about you and dad being vampires, I was crushed. Though I did come round to the idea, when dad explained about the blood bank… but then I learned that you didn’t agree with it. I was scared of you, the way you just drank from humans and killed them without care. That was a side to you I had never seen, didn’t want to see. I didn’t want to become like that, so when you turned me, I was terrified about doing the same. I've got your blood literally running through my veins, not just as brothers.'

Chris eyes widened a little at Loki’s words, his stance softened and he wasn’t quite as guarded anymore. ‘Scaring you was the last thing I wanted to do, I never wanted you to see me like that… I didn’t even want to tell you about us being vampires but dad was insistent about telling you the truth. That’s why my relationship with him dwindled even more, he just went ahead and told you anyway. I was scared of it causing a rift between us, and rightfully so. That’s exactly what happened.’

‘I would have found out sooner or later. I was beginning to wonder why you and dad never aged.’ Loki sighed and paused for a second. ‘I don’t want to take your job. You didn’t listen to me when dad told us. You are good at it, I know that. I was all for telling the board I didn’t want it and that you should remain the head teacher, until you went nuts and tried to kill me. That’s the first time I’ve genuinely thought you were actually attempting to murder me.’

Chris looked down. ‘I know. I’m ashamed to admit that I think I was, I just saw blind rage. I can’t excuse it.’ He shrugged and looked back up at Loki. ‘I can’t change who or what I am. But part of who I am, still cares and loves his little brother. Always has done. Always will. Even it that means being hated, at least you’re alive.’

Loki and Chris stared at one another for what felt like the longest time. Then, eventually, Loki stood up straight and walked towards him, Chris wasn’t sure what he was about to do at first. Though Loki opened his arms and hugged him tightly. Chris was frozen on the spot for a minute, his brain took some time to process what was going on.

Though the moment Chris put his arms around Loki in return, both of them instantly felt a relief of sorts, the love and bond they once had when Loki was younger came flooding back. All the good times and memories.

When they let go from the longest hug, they both had watery eyes. Though as they both took a step backwards, Claire was sat on the chair at the side, in floods of tears at the scene. They both turned their heads to look at her and chuckled.

‘You guys… That was… so beautiful.’ She sobbed and pulled her cloak round to wipe her eyes.

Chris rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. ‘Well… I’m away to go back to the hunt before it’s all over. I’m sorry, Claire. For kidnapping you and scaring you.’

Claire stood and walked over to Loki, still wiping her eyes. ‘I… I understand why you did. Though not to say it wasn’t scary at the start, but I’m glad that something good has come out of it in the end.’

Loki nodded in agreement, he put his arm around Claire tightly and kissed the top of her head.

‘Though if you ever hurt or kidnap her again, brother or not, I’ll beat the shit out of you.’ Loki growled at Chris.

Chris smirked and as he walked by, he patted Loki on the shoulder. ‘Sure you will, lil bro.’

Loki felt a strange sensation in his heart. It had been a long time since Chris called him that, he used to always use that nickname for him. It made him smile a little as Chris headed out the door and took off.

Claire wrapped her arms around Loki’s waist and hugged him tightly. Loki pressed his face into her hair and he breathed in deeply.

‘Let’s get you home.’ He hummed and squeezed her tightly.

#tom hiddleston #loki #loki x ofc #loki fic #the redbridge hunts #chris motionless #vampire loki

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sutherkins · 11 months

Text

peter sutherland x neurodivergent!reader 💌

this is very self indulgent lmao. i tried to keep the mental stuff vague so you can hopefully imagine any mental illness in place of stuff besides the reader clearly having adhd because i have adhd. i hope anyone who reads this is able to relate and feel understood and comforted <3

warnings: mention of recreational drug use, reader is in between ages of 21-25 (i’m 23, so)

it’s not like you were opposed to telling peter about your medication. if he asked, you wouldn’t lie. you just didn’t want to be the first to bring it up. you knew you shouldn’t be ashamed of having to be on medication, and you knew he would never judge you, but you couldn’t help it.

that lasted for a couple months. your meds wore off around four or five in the afternoon and because of this, a lot of the time you got to spend with peter before he had to go to work was spent holding yourself back and trying to keep your symptoms closed off in an area he couldn’t see.

but now there was a problem. peter was somehow able to manage a couple weeks of vacation time in order to spend more time with you, real time he had always called it. he hated only getting to spend a couple hours with you each day just as much as you did, which was why he asked you to stay with him at a cabin he owned during his time away from work.

you said yes, of course. you figured he’d eventually find out during the trip, so you tried to relax at the thought of the conversation at the very least happening in a comforting environment. you’d just finished packing your bags when peter walked down the hallway of his apartment complex to your door and knocked. you smiled, you’d given him a key already so he didn’t need to knock, he came over all the time anyway. you liked that he did it anyways, always respectful of your privacy and space.

“you ready?” peter asked while grabbing your bags and walking them down to his car.

you nodded excitedly and hopped into the passenger seat, the car already full with snacks for the drive and your favorite music playing on the radio.

the two of you sat in comfortable silence until your meds started to kick in, kicking your energy into high gear and making it practically impossible for you to keep your mouth shut. you were worried he would start to get annoyed by so much chitchat but he didn’t seem to mind, intently listening to everything you had to say and responding when needed. he even laughed a couple times which was a victory in your book.

you arrived at the cabin soon after, beaming at the cabin and then at peter. “sorry for talking so much. i didn’t annoy you, did i?”

“of course not, pretty girl. it’s just your meds kicking in. nothing wrong with that. besides, i love listening to you.” he quickly grabbed the bags from his trunk and started leading you to the front door.

once you got inside you tilted your head, peter setting the bags down on the floor. “wait, how did you know i take medication?”

“i’ve seen it in your bathroom cabinet. ‘take one every morning’.” he quotes the label that’s printed on the bottle. “it’s for adhd, right?”

your face scrunched, “well, yes. i never outright told you so i just assumed you didn’t know. you don’t mind?”

peter grabbed your hand and led you to the couch in the living room, silently telling you to get comfortable while he got a fire started. “why would i mind? there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“no, i know. i mean, i know you know that too. my brain just…likes to lie to me sometimes. im guessing this also means you saw the other meds i take, then?” sighing, you squeezed his hand in need of reassurance.

“yeah. and just to repeat myself, there’s still nothing wrong with you or taking medication. whether it’s for adhd, anxiety, depression, insomnia… anything really. it doesn’t change the way i see you and it never has.” peter squeezed your hand in response, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

cheeks quickly turning red, you groaned and leaned your head onto his shoulder, hiding your face behind your hands.

he was having none of it, moving your hands and replacing them with his own, cupping your cheeks. “hey, hey, hey…none of that. you don’t need to hide with me.”

“i know, i know. i just need reminding sometimes.” smiling softly, you gazed at his loving expression, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth on your skin.

“i’m happy to do it.” moments pass before you hear peters voice again, now wavering from trying not to laugh. “im happy to try some of those edibles you have too. i saw you packed ‘em in your bag. did you really think i wouldn’t notice you getting high?”

“peter!” you poked his side until he fell backwards laying on the couch, your legs straddling his hips. “it’s for my anxiety. and for fun.” his hands immediately shift to rest on your waist, grinning up at you. “i think i’m a bad influence on you.”

he snorts. “oh, definitely. i kinda like it though.”

#peter sutherland x reader #peter sutherland x you #peter sutherland #peter sutherland fanfiction #peter sutherland fanfic #peter sutherland fluff #the night agent fanfiction #the night agent #the night agent fanfic #reader insert #gabriel basso #i have adhd and need to be comforted and cuddled by peter sutherland so here u go

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lilyrizzy · 1 year

Note

Prompt: you can try to go home, but it will never feel the same

anon i know you probably wanted some daniel returning to redbull angst with this one, but i am nothing if not diaspointing lol, so have a self absorbed 'in that iron ground' sequal i wrote instead.

cw: parental death, angst, speculation on what it means to be the 'biological' parent or not of a child

“Here you are.”

Max’s voice comes from behind him, but Daniel doesn’t turn from where he’s watching the gentle rise and fall of their daughter’s chest, the way the colourful lights from the mobile dance across her face in the darkened room.

“I’ve read they decided those types are bad for babies now,” Michelle had told him earlier, in that critical, been there, done that parent way, with just a healthy dose of big sister smugness thrown in, as she’d watched him attach it to the crib. It’s so old. Daniel wonders if it wasn’t the same one he slept in.

Like father, like daughter.

“I thought you had got lost on your way from the bathroom.”

Daniel still doesn’t look up, but he hears the telltale ‘click,’ of Max switching off the baby monitor. Daniel has joked, more than once, about how Max had it surgically attached to his hip 6 months ago, when she first came into their world. Red-faced, and kicking, and the best decision they ever made.

He comes to stand beside Daniel.

Everybody else is downstairs. It’s past ten but even the kids are still up. Izzy is ‘waiting for Santa,’ and Isaac is shooting Daniel eye-rolls over her head, as though to prove he’s a grown-up because now he knows the truth. Max has been quizzing Michelle endlessly on the pro’s and con’s of different milk warming systems, and his mum has been sat listening with her new boyfriend—Tim’s—hand on her knee, and Daniel just-

He just needed a minute.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, not wanting to disturb Emilia, though anyone would know she was Max’s daughter by her ability to sleep through an earthquake alone, “I just-“

“Wanted a moment?” Max supplies, because of course he knows when it comes to his family.

Daniel nods. Emilia makes a little noise, a groan, like she’s thinking about protesting their loving stares, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“It’s weird,” Daniel eventually gets out. “Coming home, and there’s another man sitting with my mum on the couch.”

But it’s not even about that, not really. Tim is nice, he makes his mum laugh and Michelle tells him regularly over the phone, “she’s really happy, Daniel. It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile so much since dad.” He shakes Daniel’s hand and asks him about his new job with the Redbull junior team, and when his mum sent Emilia her first party dress in the post, she had signed his name right next to ‘grandma’ on the card.

Besides, if Daniel ever- He’d want Max to find somebody else too. Even if the idea of it makes Daniel sick to his stomach, makes him want to do something crazy like tattoo his name onto Max’s chest, the thought of him being alone forever is worse.

Max’s hand comes to cup the back of his neck, to rub his thumb over the muscle that he knows aches more these days than it used to.

“When my mum got her first boyfriend, I did not like it also,” he admits, though it doesn’t sound like a feeling he is shying away from. “I know it is not the same, but I think always it is strange to see your mum with somebody else."

It is, but maybe what’s stranger is the way it took Daniel getting to the ranch for him to realise that his dad wouldn’t be here for his daughter’s first Christmas. He’d spent the first evening looking helplessly around the dinner table at everybodys faces, foolishly stunned to learn that the sudden life of her couldn’t raise his father from the ground.

“Sometimes I still have to remember,” he admits, because it suddenly feels too shameful to keep a secret. “That he’s- That my dad is dead.”

He forces the words past his teeth, eyes fixed on the slight purse of Emilia’s lips. It’s something he’s been practicing with his therapist; not shying away from saying the truth. You’d think that after five years it would feel like that, but Daniel still finds there are days when his fingers twitch to call the contact he still can’t bear to delete from his phone book.

From the corner of his eye, Daniel can see Max nod but stay silent, like he’s been given a particularly tricky problem that he’s trying to find a solution for.

“He was here for longer than he has not been here,” he eventually says, like the hole in Daniel’s life is something that can be plugged with logic.

“True,” Daniel agrees anyway, because he knows that Max is trying, and it’s unfair to expect him to have the answers when Daniel doesn’t even know what he is asking for.

The closest thing he can think of is, ‘do you think my dad would still have loved her even without any of my DNA,’ but it’s a cruel thing to ask Max, who so desperately wanted Daniel to be the biological father. Besides, it’s not like Max would know what to say to that anyway.

“Also,” Max continues, a hesitant edge to his voice now, “of course it will be more sad this time. To bring Emilia and know he is not here to see her.”

That’s closer. Daniel can feel it, the way the words pang in his chest.

Yet, to hear it while looking down at his daughter’s sleeping body, it crests an entirely different wave of fear inside him.

There will be a time when this is her, when she’ll be spending Christmas night in the house where she grew up, but that she no longer lives in, and Daniel won’t be there to see her open her presents in the morning. It’s ridiculous really. He’s never spent one holiday with her yet, and he’s already worried about the ones he’ll miss.

“When me and Michelle were kids, on Christmas night my dad would cover the floor in flour,” he begins to recount, the words made of his desire to bridge the gap between what his father was to him then, and who Daniel is now. “He would make footprints in them, all the way from the chimney to the tree and back again, for us to find in the morning. He did it for Isaac too, made Santa’s footprints, we- We should do that for Emilia, when she is old enough.”

When he looks at Max, he’s smiling. Softly, the hue of the mobile turning the tips of his mousy hair golden. He nods, reaching for Daniel’s hand, and sliding his fingers into the four gaps between Max’s feels like coming home more than boarding a plane ever has.

“I hope I am a dad like yours,” Max whispers. The and not like mine hangs so heavy in the air, Daniel doesn’t need for him to say it to hear it.

Still, he answers him-

“I hope we are better than both of them.”

#i hope you like it anyway!#or someone at least does lol #in that iron ground #fic #max/daniel #cw parental death

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margowritesthings · 2 years

Text

Ghosts and Smoke

*i wrote this with this song in mind, so please feel free to listen for extra vibes!*

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 2791

warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE END OF RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2, angst, death, smoking, suggested post-sex scene

a/n: y'all i am GONE. it killed me. the end of red dead killed me and all i've done since is cry and write this damn angst. i'm sorry, but i'm also not. hope you enjoy!! also, thank you for all the love on my latest piece! im so glad youre as into this silly cowboy man as much as i am rn.

It was so quiet. You were used to the quiet lately, going it alone, but not here. Not Shady Belle, which was always full of laughter and fire and swearing and gunshots. The leaves rustled and your broken heart beat every so often but other than that, there was nothing. No laughter, no fire, nothing. You’d hitched your horse about a mile away, careful to keep her hidden well, so you were well and truly alone here.

You looked up at the house, still somehow standing tall amongst the ghosts and smoke and tried your best to take a deep breath. It was about 30 paces away from you, past the campfire, your old tent and the fountain. A twig snapped under your boot as you took the first step, fingernails digging little moons into the palm of your hand. You could do this. Just past the campfire and you’d be halfway there.

═══════☆═══════

“What’re you always lookin’ at when I do this, huh?” Arthur asked, meeting your eye and wearing that amused smirk that suited him so well, sending your heart fluttering each and every time.

That awful feeling people only get when they realise the other knows you’ve been watching them churned your stomach for a second. Honestly, you hadn’t even realised you were staring.

“Nothin’. I just… my daddy used to smoke those things. He always tried to teach me to roll them for him and I never could. You seem so good at it.”

Sat around the fire with some of the camp, Arthur had been rolling some tobacco into a cigarette. You always found yourself watching him, finding the way his fingers expertly knew what they were doing somewhat hypnotising. And then there was that moment his tongue darted out from his teeth to lick the paper, which was… a sight to behold, to say the least.

“I’ve got years of experience… I can teach ya sometime, if you’d like.”

The opportunity to spend more time with Arthur dangled in front of you, shining like a medal. You reached out and grabbed it, nodding at him eagerly, “I’ll warn ya, my daddy tried real hard. I’m a difficult student.”

Arthur’s head tilted, a cocky grin dominating his features beautifully before he pulled the masterfully rolled cigarette to his lips and licked down the length of the paper. You tried to remain composed while the air was stolen by an outlaw straight from your lungs.

“I guess I’ll just have t’work you real hard then, won’t I?”

═══════☆═══════

The camp always smelled like smoke, so the fresh air felt wrong as you stepped past the plot that was formerly the fire you’d spent so many nights beside. The logs and stumps repurposed into chairs still sat around the burnt blackened circle, waiting for people who would never again be together.

You kept walking, jaw clenched so hard your teeth ached. Your old tent caught your eye, at least what was left of it, singed and ripped canvas still hanging pathetically, tangled in a branch. In and amongst the ruins of your former home, your eye is caught by a piece of metal catching the dappled sunlight above. Kneeling down briefly, you pushed damp soil and leaves out of the way to reveal a metal cup trodden into the ground. For a silly little cup, it hurt far too much.

═══════☆═══════

“God damn it!” You swore, watching the tobacco scatter across your legs. Arthur chuckled, low and throaty, leaning against the tree your tent was hung around and taking a long, leisurely sip of coffee out of his cup. Gathering the tiny leaves back together on your skirts, you scowled at Arthur before starting to load the paper back up again.

“You gotta loosen up. Your fingers are too stiff.” He advised, watching his student intently. Easier said than done, really, hunched over a lantern in a tent, but you didn’t want to sound like you were making excuses.

“Right, yeah... Got it.” You mumbled, your tongue poking out between your teeth, a sure sign of absolute concentration. It was all in vain, though, as the paper crumpled at a funny angle and sent tobacco flying once more onto your person.

“Shit!” You hissed, flexing out your hands in a futile attempt to

“Alright, easy now…” he cooed, earning another glare when you realised you recognised the phrase and tone of voice from when a snake spooked Arthur’s horse.

“I give up. This is hopeless.” You tried to reach up to hand him the paper to roll his own damn cigarette and he stepped forwards towards you. Expecting him to take it, you were surprised when he instead handed you his mug and sat down right up next to you. You hadn’t been this close since he first rode you into camp and you felt so small flushed against his broad shoulders like this.

“Hold that, warm your hands up and I’ll show you again.” You obeyed your orders, doing just as Arthur said as he rubbed his own hands together, occasionally blowing into them. Without another word, he covered your hands, sandwiching them in between calloused palms and heated metal. The unexpected contact knocks you pretty hard, but you somehow manage to find the composure to mutter a thank you and hope you weren’t blushing too hard.

You looked up to Arthur, only to find he was already looking at you. When your eyes met properly, it felt as though someone had just lit a fire right beside you. The air felt… heavier? No, lighter. Both? You didn’t know and couldn’t quite seem to figure it out, feeling the fuzziness of 4 whiskies that you hadn’t actually drank.

All from the touch of a hand?

The moment was weighted now, and you both knew it. The quiet between you twisted and grew and almost became palpable, but you physically couldn’t talk, not knowing if any actual words would leave or lips or some incoherent murmurings.

“Here. Let me show you.” Arthur took his hands away and the lack of contact had you almost… pouting? You didn’t have time to examine why you were so disappointed, though, as Arthur sat behind you, his chest right up against your back. His legs pressed against the outside of you and you were worried that he was close enough to hear your heart, beating right out of your chest. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Y’have t’make sure you get it nice and tight, so the bottom doesn’t fall out…” His arms wrapped around yours and his hands cupped yours again. The contrast was stark, his tanned, hardened skin making your hands look even tinier. You couldn’t breathe, wedged between the smell of dried tobacco and coffee on one side and smoked tobacco and Arthur on the other. Your fingers so naturally followed what he was doing, and before you could even register it, you had a perfectly rolled cigarette in your hands.

“Oh shit! I did it!” You twisted slightly, only to see the excited grin on Arthur’s face as he watched you squeal proudly. He took the roll from you, placing it right between your teeth and pulling out a match. A questioning brow raised as he lit a match, suspending it in front of the cigarette until you nodded your permission and he lit it. You coughed. He laughed, chest still pressed firmly against your back.

“I’m real proud of you. Now y’gotta learn to smoke the damn things.”

═══════☆═══════

You left your first tent for the last time, vowing to never look back. Wet leaves clung to your boots, dragging across the floor past the crumbling fountain and some other tents being reclaimed by nature, muddy and covered in ivy. The final path up to the house was so familiar after so many hours watching it, waiting for your beloved to return from a job, wringing your hands with worry. The porch creaked as you stepped on it, the site of so many tear-filled reunions. The door was no longer on its hinges and fell with a bang at your touch, echoing out into the forest and sending the wildlife running.

You were home. For the last time.

═══════☆═══════

“I’ve got a surprise for you-uuu.” you sang out, hands held behind your back as Arthur stepped the threshold into the abandoned manor. He looked tired, but still managed a sleepy smile as you reached up to kiss him on the cheek. He caught the kiss, snaking a hand around your waist and pulling you closer for a more tender moment. You hadn’t seen each other in 3 days, Arthur off near Strawberry following a lead, so being back encased in his arms felt like home had come back to you.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, gentle smile tugging on his lip, “A surprise? For me? Y’shouldn’t have, darlin’.” The humbleness that appeared whenever you tried to do something nice for Arthur reared its adorable head and you shook your head, one hand still pinned to your back, clutching your gift.

“Close your eyes!”

“Alright, alright…” Arthur chuckled, holding his hands up in a mock surrender as he closed his eyes. You waved at him a few times, just to be sure, before pulling a single, wonky cigarette out from behind you and tapping Arhur on the chest.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. Nonetheless, his face lit up with pride as he realised what exactly it was that he was looking at.

“You did it?”“I did it!”

“Yes!” He was so excited for you, more so than you’d ever seen him and your heart swelled. This big, scary cowboy, pulling you into a hug and spinning you around because you finally managed to roll something smokeable.

“I’m so proud of you.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and never told you that it fell apart before he had the chance to light the damn thing.

═══════☆═══════

The stairs groaned under your weight miserably, each step feeling more and more likely to collapse. It always was the loudest staircase you’d ever heard, impossibly difficult to sneak around on when trying not to let a whole camp know that you and Arthur were both going upstairs. Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you knew if you started now you’d never make it upstairs. You couldn’t break, because there was nobody left to put you back together.

Every step required a more laboured breath, splinters half-heartedly brushing your fingertips as you traced them over the rotting bannister. You were alone, but the ghosts ran up and down around you, laughing and teasing and smiling and kissing and loving and taunting just how alone you really were.

A few more strides and you were there. His door was closed and for some reason that made it all that harder to breach the barrier and enter Arthur’s room. A shaky hand reached for the handle, twisting agonisingly slowly and pushing through.

Arthur always, always stole the breath from you, but it was always in the best way. Not like this, not how winded you felt seeing the empty, abandoned room. It was never exactly a palace, Arthur being the first to admit to that, but whenever you used to be there it had this… energy woven into the air. You realized, standing there in that moment, that it wasn’t the place at all. The place was… just that. A place, dying where it stood, rotting and filled with ghosts. The air was clean, but it couldn’t fill your lungs. You needed the fire, built by your soulmate, keeping you warm every night. You needed the cigarette smoke he breathed, tickling your lungs and coating his lip. But it was gone, stamped out and extinguished by God’s great plan. It hurt so much that you laughed, just once, harsh and loud, before your back fell into the wall of Arthur’s bedroom and you slid downwards, your legs finally giving in. Your lungs burned for the cry that just wouldn’t come as you pulled your languid legs towards your chest.

You hugged your legs close for a second, before the exhaustion reached your arms and they dropped to your sides. One hand hit the damp wooden floorboard, where the other hit something much colder, the ring on your finger clanging against it loudly. The sudden break of agonising silence shocked you for a second, instinct and past trauma screaming at you that you were in a shootout, but you managed to calm down quickly as soon as you figured out the cause of such a volume.

The floor fell out from under you. Not physically, though you wouldn’t have been surprised, but everything around you seemed to fall when you laid your eyes on the little metal box beside you, rust embellishing the corners and hinges.

Arthur’s tin.

��══════☆═══════

You felt the rise and fall of Arthur’s bare chest, your head resting on it as you tried to gain control of your own breath. The blood was still rushing in your ears as you came back down from the intense high what you’d just experienced with Arthur gave you. Limbs jelly, vision fuzzy, you pressed a lazy kiss to his skin. The fingers mindlessly running through your hair stopped, Arthur in a momentary contemplation that resulted in him reaching over and grabbing a cigarette from the table beside his bed.

“Pass the matches over will ya’, sweetheart? They’re in with my tobacco.”

You nodded, rolling over to your other side to reach over to your side of the bed, where Arthur’s stash tin sat. While Arthur waited, cigarette hanging limply from the side of his lip, you opened the tin and froze. There was the usual hit of the strong scent of tobacco, the little box of matches, and papers, but those were to be expected. What you didn’t expect to see was a charcoal sketch stuffed in there, staring back at you. It was a remarkable likeness, though you were sure you’d never looked as beautiful as how Arthur had drawn you, laughing in a way that lit up your whole face. The emotion was all too much, sitting in your throat and filling your eyes with wet tears.

“Y’alright? Are they in there?” A concerned voice asked, forcing you to swallow the overwhelming happiness for a moment or two, nodding, handing Arthur the matches and closing the tin. You nuzzled back into his chest, swirling a finger around the little hairs that trailed down his abs.

“I love you, you know that?”“I know. I love you too.”

═══════☆═══════

The tin was so cold in your hands, that cold that you could feel it through your shirt as you held it close to your chest, so hard it was though you were willing more into existence than was there anymore, as if Arthur himself was in there. One last deep breath to find the courage and the tin popped open. The smell of tobacco hit your nostrils and infiltrated your lungs and it hurt. The scent was so undeniably Arthur that it felt so wrong that he wasn’t there with it. He was gone, you knew that, but there was some hope in you that you’d find him hiding in the smoke, just like he always was.

Clumps of leaves were a little damp in your fingers, attacked by the elements, but you managed to gather enough dry bits and pull out one of the papers. It was cold, but your hands didn’t seem to notice. You had to do this, there was nothing else left. No leads, no job, no Arthur. Just you, alone in an empty room in a lonely house.

Your nimble fingers worked slowly, savouring the ritual of sprinkling in the grind, rolling it up and sealing it, just as he taught you.

That’s it. You got it, sweetheart.

Take your time.

You pictured him, arms closing you in as he guided the paper over with you.

Just one step at a time.

Soon enough, there was a cigarette wedged between your fingers.

See? Look at you.

The first few matches were duds, ruined by the water, but eventually you got one lit. You remembered Arthur, cupping his hands over the match as he lit to protect the flame from the weather. You did the same, not trusting the hole where a window once stood proud.

The tip lit and you breathed in. You coughed. You cried.

The last cigarette of Arthur Morgan.

You got this, darlin’.

You inhaled smoke. You exhaled ghosts, swirling and wisping around you, caressing your cheek just like he did.

I’m so proud of you.

#arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan red dead #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan angst #rdr2 #rdr #red dead redepmtion 2 #arthur morgan fanfic #Arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction #MargoFiore

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lulutaylorsimaginarium · 8 months

Text

The Chain

Summary: When the guys get stuck in a situation and hunted down by a drug lord. Frankie makes a call he really doesn’t want to make to the only person that can help them

Words:1,834

Warnings: “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the right age to handle mature themes. We handle our own triggers with kindness and grace

AN: Mind any grammar mistakes even though the story has been checked. The author is dyslexic and it is the wonders of her brain.

PART ONE

PART TWO

She sat at the bar in an empty, hole in the wall watering hole listening to a song that she danced to in Havana years ago. It put her in a better mood thinking of the man she danced with. The man that had stolen her heart even though she hadn’t wanted to fall in love. The song and the memory of the man lessened the rage in the very same heart. She started to sway to the music with an impossibly sweet drink in her hand. Gabby couldn’t forget the predicament she was in and of course there was the man sitting beside her, sipping his beer

“Why don’t you drink?”

“Allergic reaction”

“Oh yeah?”

“I break out in hand cuffs”

Will didn’t believe her, but he let her get away with the lie. There was no doubt that Gabby was tough, but she wasn’t the normal type of tough. It wasn’t a rage filled tough. It was a stubbornness. It was a ‘watch me’ tough but as she sat beside him dancing to the music while still sitting her seat. She intrigued him.

“What’s with that smile?”

“Memories”

“Oh-uh”

“Knew a guy”

“Cuban?”

“Puerto Rican but we spent a lot of time in Cuba”

“Dancing in the streets?”

“Yeah. In Cuba, in Barcelona, Portugal”

“So he was smooth, huh?”

“You could say that” she laughed “Still is”

“What happened?”

“He’s an aid worker. It’s hard to keep a relationship going when you’re pulling people out of the pits a hell half the time and on the other side of the planet”

“I don’t know how you do it”

“I only did it for a moment in time. I’m too empathic. It took a lot out of me. Especially when we came across kids, you know? I want to adopt ‘em and take them all home. It doesn’t work that way”

“Now you organise?”

“Correct”

“I can see why Pope needs you. Even if he is an ass”

Gabby laughed pulling the tie out of her hair. The colour reminded him of a glass of red wine or maybe that was the green neon sign above her that was making it look that way.

“He is right about one thing”

“What’s that?”

“I do owe Frankie”

“From what I know. Which isn’t a lot. He was doing his job when he found you”

“No but he broke protocol. They deemed the mission too high risk. Especially where I was but he still did it. He could have been fired or lost everything. He didn’t even know me at the time”

“He wouldn’t have it any other way Gabby. He loves ya”

“Ugh” she sighed rubbing her forehead “Why did it have to be Costa Rojas?”

“We didn’t pick the target”

“Santiago did”

“Are you noticing a theme?”

“At least Costa’s base isn’t in Brazil. You’ve got some distance. How did you move the palettes anyway?”

“We had transit vans but the guys driving got shot up and so did the vans”

“So he dropped you off in the slums with that much money”

“No one living there would be dumb enough to steal it. Rojas knows that. They are also smart enough that if they see something they know thats not for them to know. They’re not going to talk”

“You’ve got me there”

“Did you really stab Andrews with a pocket knife?” he laughed asking

“He grabbed my ass repeatedly after I asked him not to do it. Damn straight I did”

“Why didn’t you tell Frankie?”

“I wanted Andrews to stop. I didn’t want him to die. Anyway. That was a long time ago”

“Even Pope would have stopped him” She gave him an epic eye roll which only made Will practically fall over laughing “What is it with you two?”

“I don’t know. I swear I’ve tried to get along with him. I swear but he does shit like this. He thinks he’s smarter than everybody. God, even his breathing sometimes grates on me. He’s the most self-important jerk I’ve ever met”

“We’re not meaning to turn your life upside down, Gabs”

“But didn’t you guys do this a few years ago. How much money is enough money?”

“We didn’t keep it, babe”

“What are you talking about?”

“We gave the money we did get away with to Tom’s kids. They don’t have to worry about anything anymore”

She looked him wide eyed and silent for maybe the first time since she landed. Gabby shook her head before a stream of swear words flew out of her mouth.

“I hate this and now I hate you”

“Is that a yes?”

“I just don’t know how I can help you”

Will nodded his head understood where she was coming from. He got why she didn’t want to use anything with the non-profits name on it. They helped people that really needed it.

“We’re up a creek”

“Walking away isn’t an option?” she asked

“Nope”

“God damn it”

They’ll have to hide it and then move it and hide it while moving it. If Rojas found out their end wouldn’t be swift. She didn’t want that on her head. She needed something that the locals and authorises wouldn’t bat an eye at. She needed transportation and she needed it fast. Will watched the clogs in her head move fast, impossibly fast

“Gabs?”

She covered his mouth with her hand

“Shh, I’m thinking”

She moved her hand and grabbed her phone before walking outside.

He watched her walk back and forth in the sidewalk for a while. Making calls, looking up this on her phone she popped her head back in the door.

“Hey handsome, do you know how to hot wire a car?”

“Yes”

“Let’s go but it’s not going to be a quick trip”

Will didn’t ask any questions. He just did what he was told. With women like Gabby that was the safest way to survive. That was truth in Will’s experience, at least.

Gabby and Will had been gone for five hours, the sun was dangerously close to rising and there hadn’t been no word from either of them. They knew that Will wouldn’t leave them, well he wouldn’t leave Benny. Frankie was starting to worry and Santiago was starting to curse her name, in his head at least.

“What if Rojas caught up with them?” Benny voice all their fears

“We would have heard by now” Santiago lied

“I shouldn’t have called her, Pope”

“Well, you did Frank and here we are. Will wouldn’t jump ship”

“Either would she, man”

“We have to come up with another plan”

“They will be here” Benny told them.

Suddenly an old beat up people mover stopped outside the favela. Two squeaky doors shut loudly before the missing two were standing back in their doorway

“Honey, we’re home” she told them slightly seductively

“Where have you been?”

“Cleaning up your mess, Garcia. You bozos wanna come help us unload?” She tossed an empty hessian coffee bean sack at him “We are in Brazil after all”

“What if they cut them open, Gabriela?”

“That’s why we stole full bags of coffee bean Also. Place the real beans on top of the bags full of money. They’ll cut into the bags we want to them to cut into”

“Two more van are showing up at five thirty this afternoon. So we have to move” Will told them.

“Leave ten grand out of the bags for the vans”

“Ten?”

“Yeah Garcia. For five grand we were going to get endless questions. Ten grand brought silence. You okay with that?”

“Guess I have to be”

“That’s what I like. Gratitude”

She rolled her eyes as he walked outside. Frankie stepped in front of her before pulling her into a hug

“Thank you”

“You’re still in trouble but I love you”

They both walked outside holding on to each other for dear life. Everybody quietly unpacked the van of empty bags. The tension that they had all been choking on was leaving them but Santiago just couldn’t help himself

“Where are we going to take this coffee when we are finished here, oh wise one?”

“I haven’t figured that part out yet”

“If only someone knew some else in Puerto Rico” Will answered almost gleefully

“Nope”

“Sebastian” Frankie answered pointing at her

“No. We are not getting Seb involved”

“He would do it, Gab”

“Who’s Sebastian” Pope practically spat

“Her fella” Frankie teased

“He’s not my fella”

“Used to be”

“I don’t know where he is right now. He’s an aid worker for Christ’s sake. He could be anywhere”

“Could you find out though?” Will smiled.

“If any person is more connected than you. Its Seb” Frank pleaded

Gabby rolled her eyes before pulling her phone out of her pocket, playfully growling as she walked outside.

The group started packing the bags with cash as Santiago stood near the window, listening to the conversation. Her voice was softer, you could hear the affection as she spoke. That was until she walked around the corner.

He walked over to Frankie

“Can we trust this guy?”

“Absolutely”

“I don’t like it”

“We are going to need more people to get this home and he would do anything for her. He’s a good guy. You wanted her for her connections, right?”

There was an uncomfortable silence filled the room as they continued loading the cash. Before she was standing in the doorway again.

“Bad news is that he is in Honduras. Good news is that if we can get to Venezuela. He can store it for us until we make other plans”

“How much did you tell him?” Santiago asked, probably sharper than he intended

“I said that we are in trouble, and it was a no questions situations”

No one said anything.

She hadn’t slept, she was at the end of her tether and likely to blow. Instead of sleeping, she packed bags with cash.

There were three beat up, different colours vans rolled up at five thirty. Gabby paid an elderly man the money and waited until they were long gone before the guys packed the vans. She lent up against the green building. She tried to help the guys carry the bags, but the guys weren’t having any of it.

Once everything was carefully packed. Dummy coffee beans placed on top and around, they all felt a tiny bit better. Maybe it was being on the move that made them feel safer. There was still just under five days of driving ahead of them.

Although the thought of seeing Sebastian at the end of all of it made her feel better.

She was pale, she was tired, and she was trying to cover it.

Everybody piled into the vans before Frankie stood in front of her picking her up at the knees, tossing her over his shoulder

“I wanna drive”

“No way. You haven’t slept in a day. Forget it. You’re a passenger, Princess”

“Ugh”

He placed her in the car and she was asleep by the time they left the city

#pedro pascal #triple frontier #santiago garcia x oc #santiago garcia #romanticism #will miller #ben miller #benny miller #frankie morales #oscar isaac #garrett hedlund #charlie hunnam #netflix #the chain

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