#and normally shes very sweet but oh man. shes got some opinions that have just wrecked my view of her

[silverislander]

i got my hair cut today which was so needed but i am going to be honest. i have been trying to make the most of it all day but frankly its not good i will be at least slightly embarrassed to be in public w my head lookin the way it does rn

#its visibly shorter on one side :) and my bangs are all weird :) and idk what the fuck is somehow wrong w the layers bc i dont. get layers #this is not even the first time shes messed me up like this too idk why i even keep coming back (bc its easier for my mom) #i look like a medieval page boy rn. its giving mushroom. its So round and my head is already so fucking ROUND #i look like if a bowling ball was a middle school boy who hated himself #levi.txt #she got distracted for literally 10mins drying my hair bc a guy walked by smelling like weed/visibly high so its also parted wrong #hairdresser is also Very christian. we go there bc mom knows her from church so she gets a discount #and normally shes very sweet but oh man. shes got some opinions that have just wrecked my view of her #sometimes im like 'why dont i just do this shit myself and save everyone the time and money. i could shave my head rn' #but i have a weird hairline and get pimples there so. unfortunately no

[swallowtail-ageha]

Scrolling through your asoiaf tag and you have such good and correct opinions like how can anyone love just Dany or just Sansa or just Arya like how can anyone not see the parallels between Dany and Sansa it makes me feel so crazy like why are there so few people who love all the girlies?? I genuinely love every single female POV character and can’t imagine hating any of them. I mean sure yeah Cersei is a villain but you’re telling me her tragedy doesn’t touch your heart? Watching this woman desperately try to avoid her prophecy as it unfolds before you doesn’t have you in a death grip? Or like are you unmoved by Sansa telling an annoying snotty little boy how brave he is because she wants him to feel better? Dany comforting Missandei when her brother dies? Arya getting to the house of the black and white and immediately thinning to being a man a cup of water (or at least what she thought was water)? How about Sansa telling Joffrey she hopes Robb cuts his head off? Dany sassing the man who wants to open the fighting pits? Arya telling Jaquen to kill himself? Like please come on. All three girls are obviously different but they share so many very endearing traits. I am fiercely holding tight to my delusion that Dany and Sansa will bond over stories and songs and Arya will teach Dany about all the flowers in Westeros and then Sansa will show them how to make flower crowns and embroider little emblems on Arya’s clothes

First of all tysm!!!!

The whole arya vs sansa vs dany fandom fight frustrates me to no end, mainly because all parties involved seem to have little to no empathy to the characters whose stans they oppose. It's all maliciously extrapolating some parts of the text to make them see worse than what they are (ex: daenerys' "if i look back i am lost" getting twisted from "dany knows that dwelling on what ifs and turning your back after you have taken a commitment will only damage you in the long term" in "dany doesn't want to reflect on her past mistakes and will go mad and get stabbed to death" or sansa getting frustrated at sweetrobin being a sign of her being ableist and classist while it's. Just a normal reaction of a stressed and traumatized 13 yo who is otherwise very sweet to her cousin)

For loving the female characters same! Even those who commit outwardly villainous acts do get lots of humanizing moments, Cersei, as awful as she is, is simply a product of the hyper misogynistic society she lives in plus years of parental and spousal abuse (and the doomed by prophecy vibes) and. I genuinely don't get how people can look at the walk of shame and say it's a fitting punishment to her crimes

Overall all the hate for female characters that are more complex or more driven or more morally ambiguous than what most female characters are presented as in other media in a fandom who (supposedly) prides itself in liking morally ambiguous characters is.. frustrating, really. I blame both fandom misogyny but also the GoT series, as it's outright changes in female character's actions and stories to make them look better or worse than what they originally were skewered the visions of almost everyone in the fandom (arya is an egregious victim of this. Scenes such as her caring for Weasel or her befriending sex workers in braavos don't exist and they added that "all girls are idiot" scene that i hate and they removed all her plan to free the northmen from harrenal and she got turned from traumatized child to hashtag no one super cool assassin and her character got straight up murdered in the tv series.)

Oh and also for kickstarting the whole jonsa vs jonerys thing which i'm pretty sure is the origin of the stupid dany vs sansa wars

And yes!! Dany Sansa and Arya should get to meet and reunite! While i do think that there will be some slight tensions between Sansa and Arya because they left on Not So Well terms, they have also matured a lot, so i do think they would have an heartfelt reunion. Meanwhile Dany and Arya could bond because of both their connection to Braavos and Arya's admiration for those who free slaves, and Dany would empathize (and feel a common ground) with Sansa for her being a child who had all her family die and got married extremely young while beeing creeped on by older men, while Sansa, who is shown to admire women like Margaery or Myranda, who are shown to be very keen regarding politics or social issues, something that Dany is

In the end, i genuinely hope that all three of these traumatized little girls get their happy ending and none of them dies, they all are interesting and complex characters that share parallels with each other, and it sucks that because of stupid ship wars or discussions on who would get the throne they get pitted against each other. THEY WOULD BE FRIENDS Y'ALL

#anyways i am holding onto the hope that ADoS ends with dany legalizing gay marriage and marrying sansa #sorry if it gets super rambly and incoherent anon because i always tend to do this when i get an ask #i just want to tell you that your ask made my day and it was all on point!!!! i hope you have a nice week month year life #asoiaf

[callsigndragon]

Duck duck Goose | Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw

Pairing: Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw x Naval Aviator!reader (call sign: Hummingbird)

Wordcount: 1485

Warnings: boys being idiots towards reader, FLUFF, ANGST, mentions of Goose's accident. FIX IT FIC BC I CAN.

A/N: I'm not tagging the usual people bc this is not... Top Gun Maverick. If anyone wants to be in my forever tag list, hit me up.

Special thanks to my darling @purplevortexx, always ready to help when i get stuck.

"Well, I hear a lot of things you gotta be a bit more specific here, buddy" 

"Did you hear it?" Mav asks Goose, waiting for the waiter to give him another beer. 

"There's a female pilot in the program" 

That wasn't exactly what he had expected to hear. He knew there were female backseaters, but female pilots? 

That girl is either crazy or the biggest badass to ever walk the Earth. 

He can't wait to meet you. 

"Hey, sweetcheeks, I'm hungry, can you make me a sandwich or something?" Hollywood teases you, for the hundredth time. 

You stopped paying attention to him after the first week, but it's getting annoying. 

"I don't know, Rick, why don't you ask your boyfriend over there?" you point in Wolfe's direction. "Maybe he can give you something to eat" 

Goose's laugh is so loud that you can hear it from the other side of the hallway. It makes you smile. Honestly, he and Maverick are the only reasons you haven't left the academy. 

Other than your RIO, Lucky, they were the only two men here that were supportive of you. Iceman sometimes said that you were better to fly with than Maverick. 

Not sure if that was a compliment or not. 

"Hummingbird, you need to stop it. Poor Hollywood here doesn't even know how to spell his name properly, you can't expect him to know how to address young ladies like you" Goose mocks, putting his arm around your shoulder.

You have to bite your lip to suppress the laugh. Nick has been very touchy with you, always checking to see if you're okay, if you need anything. When Maverick, Goose, you, and Lucky had been partnered on an exercise, he insisted on listening to your opinion before letting Mav do anything on his own. 

Falling for someone who gives you that much attention and who respects your job, is the easiest thing you've ever done. 

He is married and has a child, though, according to what you've heard. A kid! How can you even think of a married man that way? 

“Birdie, we’re going out for some drinks. Wanna come with us?” He whispers in your ear, his breath making you shiver. 

“Sure, let me go get changed” 

“So, how’s baby Goose?” you finally ask after finishing your second beer. The golden liquid gives you the courage you lacked. 

“My sweet Bradley! Let me show you a picture,” he smiles, pulling out a picture of his jacket. You see a little version of him in Goose’s arms, next to a beautiful woman. “There he is” 

“Oh, is that Mrs. Bradshaw?” 

“She was. Now she’s just my friend. And the mother of my son” 

You look at him, expecting to see a sad look on his face. He seems happy, however. As if the two of them were better friends than they ever were as spouses. 

“People don’t usually talk about their ex with a happy smile, you know?” 

“Well, we’re not a normal case. We met young, fell in love, I became an aviator and when she got pregnant she asked me to be more careful but…” 

"You can never be too careful when flying with Maverick," you finish, and he nods. “But it’s good that you’re friends. That will make things so much easier for Bradley” 

“Yeah, it’s our main priority. He was a bit confused on Christmas when he went from Carole’s house to mine, but he got more gifts and that’s all he could care about” you can’t help but laugh. He leans over the bar top, his head resting on his hand, and looks at you, with the sweetest smile. “He would like you” 

“Me?” you ask, getting a bit closer to him. 

“He loves hummingbirds.” His free hand slowly moves from his beer to your cheek as he caresses it. His cold fingers contrast deliciously with your hot skin. “And I’m beginning to like them too” 

You move slowly towards each other, attracted like magnets. You close your eyes, wetting your lips, and getting ready to kiss him, when Mav’s voice interrupts you. "COME HERE, GOOSE! There’s this girl I want you to- Oh. Did I interrupt something?” 

You chuckle and pat Mav’s back before you leave. 

“Did I really interrupt something?” 

“I’m gonna choke you” Goose groans while he watches your figure leaving the bar.

The next few weeks go by, with both of you being incredibly obvious about your feelings but neither of you making a move. Small smiles whenever you two made eye contact. Finger-brushing whenever you two stood together. Sweet and loving little notes kept appearing on your locker, and the most special one had a little doodle of a hummingbird. You found a special place for it in your cockpit. 

And yet, neither of you dared to say what was evident to everybody else. 

Today’s exercise should have been easier. That was until Maverick and Goose’s aircraft got caught in Iceman’s jet wash. You’re on the base, you’ve been waiting for them to complete their exercise and come back, making you, Hollywood, and Woflman the next ones to perform the exercise. 

You hear everything on the radio. Maverick trying to reach the ejection handles, but the spinning force of the F-14 made it impossible for him to do it. Goose is trying too, and succeeds, but something goes wrong. 

The rescue team leaves immediately; the exercise is long forgotten. You and Lucky go inside, waiting to hear any news. Viper informs all of you that Goose got hit, but they don’t know the severity of his injuries. 

Is this it? Are you going to lose someone as marvelous as he is? Did you waste the last few weeks flirting like idiots when the two of you could have been together? 

Will you ever hear his loud laugh again? Will you ever hold his hand properly? Will you ever hear him call you ‘birdie’ again? 

It’s been an hour, and you don’t have more news. Maverick is in the hospital, too, but you know he won’t leave Goose’s side until the RIO is either safe or dead. 

At this point, you’re beginning to believe it’s the latest. 

You’re sitting on the floor of the locker room, Goose’s sweet notes in your hands. You hold them tightly, praying to God to give him enough strength to survive. You just found someone you can imagine spending your life with. 

Don’t take him away from me now.

“I’ve been looking for you, birdie”

You raise your head slowly, afraid that your brain is deceiving you. That the voice, and the owner, are just figments of your imagination. 

But they're not. He's there. 

Bloody and covered in bandages. 

But alive. 

And smiling. 

"I thought you were dead" you whisper, watching as he silently sits in front of you. 

"I was for a second. Cause I thought that I would never see you again. And that killed me inside for a moment, but... I'm here. And I don't want to waste one more second of my life not being with you" 

“Goose, I-”

He presses one finger over his lips, making you stop talking and look at him. He leans over, his lips quickly replacing his finger. One of you is crying, you can feel the salty tears on your lips, the bittersweet aftertaste remaining on your tongue while you pull away. 

“Goose, where the fuck are-. Why am I always interrupting you two?” Maverick laughs, watching you two sitting on the floor. 

“You’re late this time, Mav” Goose says, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re late” 

“And she’s good with you leaving the hospital when you weren’t supposed to?” Mav leans on the door when he sees the confusion in your face. “You didn’t tell her” 

“Nicholas Bradshaw, you did not leave the hospital without authorization” 

“Honey, I knew you would be so scared I had to tell you I was okay” he tries to convince you that him leaving the ER was justified, but you’re not having it. 

“There’s this thing called the telephone. Ever heard of it? It allows you to call people and tell them: ‘Hey birdie, I’m not dead. Can you come here? I have to tell you something’”

“Oh, feisty, I like her” Mav comments, enjoying every second of the situation. 

“But I had to see you. I couldn’t stop bleeding without seeing your face” 

“Goose, you’re making it worse” you warn him. 

He sighs, pecks your lips and gets up. “Are you coming with me to the hospital, at least?” he pouts.

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “You’re a big baby, you know?”

“Your big baby. And Mav’s. You have shared custody” 

You snort, looking at the two aviators. “You better start walking before I kick your asses” 

“Goose, your wife scares me” 

“She’s not my wife!” 

“Like hell you’re not marrying this one” 

#nick bradshaw #goose bradshaw #goose x reader #nick goose bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw x reader #top gun #top gun fanfic #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun fandom

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I think this is the first time since season 10 that I’ve watched the first episode of a Taskmaster season without writing a liveblogging Tumblr post as I went along (in seasons 11-16, I stuck to varying levels of keeping up the liveblogs for the rest of the season, but I always at least did the first one). If I’m very honest, the main reason why I didn’t do it for this one is it’s the first lineup for which there was only person I was really really excited about. The other four I have varying levels of vague opinions about, from “broadly like based on the one time I saw her on Russell Howard’s show” (Sophie), to “quite strongly dislike based on seeing her promote stalking and harassment on Alan Davies’ show, but I guess it was probably just a joke that came off badly” (Joanne) to “never got into League of Gentlemen because the surreal vibe creeped me out a bit and BBC Sherlock put me off Mark Gatiss so I know almost nothing about him”. Oh, and I do actively like Nick, because I am one of the few people who’s found Mr. Swallow funny on Catsdown, but I didn’t much enjoy his Houdini special and Ted Lasso season 3 was so bad that it put me off everyone who had anything to do with it even though obviously it’s not Nick Mohammed’s fault, so those conflicting opinions balance out into a vague “I guess I like that guy”.

Anyway, I didn’t want to write a post that was meant to be liveblogging the whole Taskmaster episode, and have that post be 90% about John Robins, and lay out just how much John Robins was the only one I was really interested in, and I also didn’t want to try to make myself have more of an opinion about the rest of them than I actually did. So no liveblog post this time, I just watched the episode. Once it gets a couple of episodes in I will have an opinion on the rest of them, and then might start the liveblogs again because I will have a slightly more balanced view.

Having said that. I have now watched it and do have some new opinions:

- Sophie Willan: I expected the charmingly naïve chaos, based on that time she was on Russell Howard’s show, that’s exactly how she came across on there and it’s great. Funny and sweet just great fun to watch. I did not, however, expect this extreme level of incompetence. I find an extreme level of anything funny on Taskmaster, and this is no exception. Love that we’re going to have a good old fashioned disaster contestant and it’s been marked out so early. Love that she appears to have no idea what show she’s on. Obsessed with her decision to paint that actual fence even though she definitely saw the blinds.

- Steve Pemberton: The “old man who is far too well established in comedy to need this show” contestant actually trying in the tasks, that’s always a fun surprise. I mean, I enjoy it either way. Frankie Boyle, Alan Davies, Julian Cleary, Ardal O’Hanlon – all those guys stumbling through the tasks with bemusement is fun. But it’s a nice surprise when you get a Lee Mack, a Dara O’Briain, a thing that Steve Pemberton looks to be – an old man who doesn’t need this but decides to actually put significant effort into doing each task properly. The egg train was impressive. The stumble at the end was funny. The good-natured attitude in the studio is amusing. And John Robins being the competent competitive force I’m hoping for won’t be as much fun if there’s not another good player to challenge him.

- Nick Mohammed: That’s exactly what I wanted from him. It’s almost weird to hear him talk in a normal voice, which doesn’t make sense because it’s not like he was using the Mr. Swallow voice on Ted Lasso, but I think on some level, my brain operated under the assumption the Mr. Swallow voice was his “real voice” and he was just putting on a character for Ted Lasso. It is interesting to see him play himself, where it turns out, he’s not that far off from Mr. Swallow’s quirks, just with a lower-pitched voice. I liked the exchanged he had with Greg in this manner. I liked the pragmatic approach to getting hula hoops out of a river. I liked the dynamic with Steve. I liked it when he threw some bricks around.

Joanne McNally: I dislike her a bit. Which is a lot less than how much I disliked her yesterday. This episode has brought me from disliking her a lot to disliking her a bit. She was entertaining. I wish I hadn’t seen that episode of Alan Davies: As Yet Untitled, because it’s sending me into this season with a bias against her that may be too much for her Taskmaster persona, as entertaining as it is, to overcome. I like other comedians who've said worse things than that, because I can put those things in the context of all their other stuff and consider it just one badly judged story. Maybe Taskmaster will give me enough context for McNally to get past it. She was fun. I wanted to be able to enjoy her. But she does still annoy me.

John Robins: Here's an idea. What if I do the opposite of the post this would have been if I'd been liveblogging as I watched and had been honest about where most of my interest was (though that interest broadened out as the episode went along, it only takes a small amount of time at the beginning of a season for me to get to know the unknowns well enough to be interested in them too), and make this a post about everyone except John Robins? I'll just end this post here.

(He crashed a car with an egg and he brought in 19th Century literature and he thought through that live task so strategically and and his drawings were so much better than everyone else's and this is exactly the level of competence I was hoping for and I don't mind waiting a bit for the competitiveness-induced outbursts that I'm sure are coming later, because actually it was equally funny to watch him spend this episode just glaring and biting his tongue (and having his voice crack the way it sometimes does on the radio, it happened right at the beginning of this episode, and you always know we're getting something good out of John Robins when his voice starts cracking) whenever he got annoyed about something going wrong. And is adorable that his buddy Alex got a reference to his big award into the episode, especially in a way that says "You know, technically you're on the level with Steve Pemberton."

(The other reason I didn't do a liveblog this time is I was genuinely embarrassed reading back the one I wrote during s16e01, where I frequently transcribed my internal and/or external monologue verbatim as I was too into the episode to also put an edit between my thoughts and the typed words, and was really into backing Sam Campbell like a sports team and Taskmaster brings out the sports team side of me in general, which is how you had bits of that post with me writing things like "Yes Sammy C coming through" with what I hope any reader would (incorrectly) interpret as irony. It's for the best that I avoided that this time and didn't need to document the number of times the words "Come on Johnny you got this" came out out loud as I was watching him throw hula hoops at things. I have never referred to him by that name before, it's just the automatic sports-ifying of people's names that happens when you watch them like a sports team. I'm pretty sure words in parentheses don't count towards a post, so this one actually ended when I said it did two paragraphs ago.)

#taskmaster spoilers

[milfhandholder]

Redcliff headcanons bcs no one can stop me

Grell obviously fell first but kept it a secret because she just got out of a relationship (read: William) and isn't looking for a new one yet

However that all changed when Madame suddenly had the biggest sapphic revelation of all time (personally, I love seeing her as a lesbian with comphet but feel free to smoosh it around if you see her as bi / pan. I just know that this girl loves women)

Madame: what does it mean if I like someone whose gender expression is similar to yours?

Grell: you'd be gay, Angie

Madame, standing up: w a i t

Madame's very confident in her romancing expertise until Grell comes to the equation. At this point, they're very used to being affectionate with each other #girlythingz SO A GIRL IS PANICKING

Secretly, Madame thinks Grell's very cool in how unfazed she is with gorey stuff

Grell isn't cool actually, it's just the shoujo filter talking

The butler persona was definitely all on Madame, she's down bad since the beginning actually

They're not the healthiest couple on the block unfortunately. Like yes, they'd kill for each other but a big argument could make them kill each other instead

They don't say sorry either, just do a grand gesture and hope for the best

Madame is the one who likes to push Grell's buttons so when Grell's in a bad mood, she'd say something nasty in return and that's usually how they fight

Madame: your taste in men is horrible but I guess that's what happens when you're dead for so long

Grell: oh, like your sister?

They need to seek a couple therapist, I am so serious

As much as they love red, modern day wise, I think they'd have a different fashion style but still compliments each other. Madame is very business formal & the occasional sexy night outfits. Grell is just statement pieces

I like to think that if they met in a different time, they could be really sweet and shit but unfortunately that's not how it goes so we could only dream

They love gossiping so much

Grell laughs genuinely with Madame the most :(

They're like Drea and Eleanor from Do Revenge. A couple of besties who bring out the worst in each other but they do love each other!

Madame is the only person (other than Othello and sometimes Eric) who could make Grell a grumbling shy person

With how the relationship... started, Madame feels very comfortable confiding and ranting to Grell about everything and anything. Grell listens very tenderly because her wife has every reason to get mad at this rude man

Grell gives Madame a lot of nicknames. Some are normal (Angie and Ann), some are cringe in my opinion but unfortunately she's cringe like that

Madame: it's impossible to give you a nickname from your name

Grell: come on, you can do it. Try

Madame: ....Rellie-

Grell: actually, sweetheart and darling are fine

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #grell sutcliff #kuroshitsuji grell #madame red #angelina dalles #grelle sutcliff #kuroshitsuji grelle #grelle x madame red #redcliffe #redcliff #my favorite divorced couple #not surprisingly this isn't all of them

[clarenecessities]

ummmm what about. uhhh those women from the supergirl show. now that i type that im pretty sure one of them is supergirl

oh, buddy. yes, one of them is supergirl.

disclaimer: i have never and will never watch the cw's supergirl, bc i love myself

What made you ship it?

well it TURNS OUT that there's a lot of overlap in Supercorp shippers and Catradora shippers, for some reason. can't imagine why! [puts a blanket over my venn diagram's cage]

so i went a little insane after she-ra came out (you remember) and read about 6k fics, just scrolling through the tag with some filters on & clicking on anything that looked interesting. it was a very interesting time in our lives. a lot of me going "huh? whah?" in call. birth of the scorpia disclaimer.

but eventually i ran out of she-ra fics. and i like... i couldn't stop, you know? and it turns out that some of the best she-ra authors have written a lot of supergirl fics. so it kept coming up when i was on author-specific binges. and i got curious! i'm a curious guy!

and then it turns out they're really cute >:( they're adorable, damn it.

ik i'm never gonna be able to drag you into this hole with me, since you already have a designated CW trainwreck, but if you're ever feeling bored the first one i ever read was really fucking funny and requires zero knowledge of canon. i didn't know alex's pronouns until halfway through bc i'd never heard of her (literally supergirl's sister). initially i clicked on it bc "superhero pretends to date her civilian identity" sounded hysterical but like... kara is so sweet, and so socially inept. and lena is a human disaster who just wants to help. and they both have crippling abandonment issues and no chill whatsoever

What are your favorite things about the ship?

i like that they appreciate each other. the version of them that i've constructed piecemeal from other people's opinions is such that like... they've both been pretty miserable, right? lena watched her mom die when she was like 4 years old and then got adopted by the luthors, kara watched her planet explode & pawned off by clark (who was like 30 years older than he was supposed to be bc of DC bullshit) on some human family and had to pretend to be normal for a decade or so.

and they both hide that pretty well, kara with kindness and lena with unapproachable businesswoman...ness... but they're both immediately fascinated by each other. and they're both sort of genuine with each other, even when they're in 'nice but bumbling civilian' or 'ruthless luthor' mode. so where it gets interesting for me is those moments they reach a mutual understanding of something, or where they trust each other in spite of Every Other Thing.

in like their first meeting lena says she's just a woman trying to make a name for herself outside of her family & asks if they can understand and kara is like "🥺 yeah..." and like they were just kind of fucked from there. sigh. you don't know how good you have it with riverdale polycule man. fuckin CW.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

i have many but the one that comes up most often isn't an opinion, it's a fact.

“khap zhao rrip” is fucking nonsense. it does not mean 'i love you'. it's SVO instead of VSO and zhao is a noun why are you even including kyrptahniuo if you're just going to find-and-replace random words.

listen. listen to me. zhaoivodh khap rrip. it is literally easier than french. nobody fucking does it right logan it makes me feel insane

#answers #hungry-bug #supergirl

[lmaowhateven]

i would really appreciate some xiaoyu and chaeya headcanons if you don't mind sharing, cuz your art got me on the chaeya boat and now you gotta feed me. (but like only if you want cuz ur busy and have a life but i love ur art and ur opinions matter and just wanna let you know you valid and ur so talented and only 21?? like 0_o

OMG this ask is so sweet i have been marinating on it for a while because while i DO have headcanons........ i had to think abt the best ones to share 😳 i put way too much thought into this lol

CHAEYA

-my favorite possible dynamic for them is that they are both trying to convince themselves that what they have going on is JUST casual because if either of them really admitted how strongly they felt for each other their entire world would ACTUALLY explode.

-i REALLY want them to meet at a tavern or out exploring by happenstance a good couple of times before being introduced professionally. kaeya absolutely knew he was talking to a harbinger. childe was utterly enamored by a mysterious stranger. UNTIL BOOM HE MEETS HIM IN A MEETING WITH THE KNIGHTS OF FAVONIOUS?!!?

-i need them to be messy and angsty and absolutely toxic with each other but eventually they become husbands and have a weird little family dynamic with klee and teucer 🥰 they need to work through shit together like its gotta be a mess before it can like become something great. but it'll become something great.

-whenever im playing genshin and in a chaeya mood i put on a kaeya/childe/jean/diluc team because i think it would be possibly the most awkward adventuring team in the world. kaeya's boss and kaeya's brother hanging out with the crazy dude he's boning? absolutely hilarious.

-oh my god i need them to have the most romantic love letters man. i need them to have beautiful letters filled with longing and vulnerability and so SO SO MUCH love, but when they finally meet again it's a little awkward and they have a hard time communicating. it's easier in writing!

-speaking of awkward. at first they are very flirty and lovey but none of it is genuine feelings just attraction. when they REALLY start liking each other oh my god they have to be so awkward about it. no eye contact. barely make normal conversation. they are like awkward teenagers oh my GOD I AM SHAKING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE DYNAMIC I NEED FOR THEM. CASUAL > AWKARD > TERRIBLE ANGST AND TRAGEDY > REBIRTH AS SOUL MATES

XIAOYU

-xiaoyu for me is all about shared healing, patience, and finally finding someone to connect with. oh my god BOTH of these guys have been through SO, SO MUCH and i just think both of them could gain a sense of real, genuine love from one another.

-both of these guys have been conditioned to feel isolated from the world. ganyu feels so different from everyone around her, never truly connecting with the adepti or with the humans. even in the bustling streets of liyue she's alone. xiao has lost everyone he's ever cared for, and since then he's never allowed himself to get close to anyone. he feels undeserving of another person's affections. he feels as though he's the only one of carrying such burdens. i think the two of them could really resonate with each other, and maybe find some solace knowing they aren't truly alone.

-i really like the idea of ganyu being xiao's first real crush. he doesn't really understand those feelings and not only does it embarrass him it's confusing and FRUSTRATING at the same time. ganyu on the other hand has absolutely been crushing on xiao for a loooong time now, but she hasn't processed that completely, instead believing that she just really wants to befriend him. she thinks about him all the time because she just cares THAT much is all!!!

- they are PINING. they are the slowest of slow burns. they are agonizingly slow. like they will get together in maybe 50-200 years or so. not even kidding.

-i love the idea of xiao checking on ganyu when she's not looking. he's always a little worried for her. sometimes she'll fall asleep in weird places, or travel somewhere far, and xiao just wants to make sure she's home safe. its creepy but he seriously lacks social etiquette and he loves her!

-ganyu isn't a naturally very physically affectionate person since she's so timid, but with xiao she makes sure to be a little more open with her outward affection. a lot of the time she's comforting xiao with a hand on the shoulder or a sweet and quick hand squeeze. she wants him to know she doesn't think he's a monster, and that she feels safe around him. he could probably never verbalize this out loud, but those little touches mean A LOT TO HIM.

-ganyu visits wangshu inn often and brings little care packages for xiao. he's no the best at self care so she does what she can to help! even though she's so busy with work she's been trying to take weekends off every once in a while and stay at the inn with xiao. y'know to make sure he's taking proper care of himself and all 👀

#this ask was so sweet lol thank you so much!!! #yeah work has been killing me and also I've been busy cause im also in the process of moving lol #buuuut i have five days off cause i got my wisdom teeth removed (YEAAAAAHHHH) so i had time to answer this ask while i recover. #sorry for the novel tumblr user lavenderloverrr if you give me an opportunity to gush about fictional ships that i like- #-you should expect a way too indepth response abt this stuff. fictional gay ppl love is my favorite thing ever. #oh yeah xiaoyu are gay ppl too btw. they are t4t and bisexual! #chaeya is t4t too but there's no way i could picture CHILDE with a WOMAN. he's gay af. kaeya is bisexual tho!

[sugarcowffee]

Main suspects Personality Breakdowns (Detective/Player POV):

O'Reily Maguire Slaughter (he/him)- A local recluse, not much is known about him but it’s pretty easy to pin him as some late 80s campy serial killer. From his oily black hair covering his eyes to his oddly sharp teeth, some locals claim he filed them down himself. However people at the local college always describe him as the laid back guy who holds a wood carving workshop on Saturdays. Public opinion on him is pretty 50/50, hard to tell if he’s a freak or you’re just stereotyping (although last name “Slaughter” certainly doesn’t help his case).

Lemon Addle (they/he)- A frequent customer at the local candy store, intense sweet tooth and too high energy for their own good. It’s obvious that his last name was changed but you can’t seem to find any record of them previously no matter how hard you try. Honestly your only reason for adding this awkward dork to your list is the fact that you’ve been noticing them around town a lot more frequently, sure it’s barely large enough to not be classified as a village but just how persistent he seems to be with interacting with you is odd to say the least, maybe they’re just desperate for a few more friends?

Soleli “Sun” Amberore (he/him)- A local celebrity making an appearance on a local talk show he hosts weekly going by the pseudonym “Sun” to match his “Oh so impossibly bright personality”, maybe it’s his way of subtly joking about how ridiculous his real name is, afterall his parents did literally name him “Sun” in French with a simple letter swap. People love him and apparently your boss knows him, he refuses to talk about any personal details about him as he’s “Vehemently against all this ‘pappah-rahzzi’ culture”. Even though you do enjoy tuning in from time to time you can’t deny that it feels quite fake sometimes, as though he’s hiding something deep underneath, some say that's normal for celebs, you think it’s connected to something much, much darker. Maybe you can get his brother to fess up?

Lunaire “Moon” Amberore (he/they)- The librarian of the town, a true bookworm through and through, and the great “Sun’s” twin brother, both claim that they were identical twins however Moon was born with severe albinism, and while you can see a few similarities from their eye shapes, jawlines, and broad shoulders but it’s all overlooked when everything else is so drastically different. He got the same name treatment as his brother and it’s obvious he’s embarrassed about it so he too went down the route of going by the nickname “Moon”, whether this was his own choice or proposed as a cute ‘matching twin thing’ by his brother is unknown. When your boss noticed that you added him to your suspects list he flew off the handle and demanded to know what possible evidence you could have against, arguably, the most sane, levelheaded man in town. It’s clear as day how biased he is, you’ve seen how much Moon visits the agency, how often they chat after hours, it’s obvious the two are very close, probably knew each other for years, but as long as he’s connected to his brother you cannot deny his possible involvement in any shady big celebrity drama behind the scenes.

Venita “Ven” Aspen (she/her)- A fashion designer/model who chooses to operate from her hometown for “The authenticity and inspiration that nostalgia brings”. A frequent guest on Sun’s show, both have mentioned growing up together and are not afraid of sharing small bits and pieces of their “Youthful escapades”. She puts up a very pompous front but she has never been afraid of openly fighting any higher ups all in the name of supporting her home. While you may be biased it can be hard not to believe that these could merely be ‘publicity stunts’ meant to boost her image, despite the amount she talks about her childhood very little is actually known about her previous life.

Novacane Kellar (she/they)- She owns the local candy store with the help of her friend Reese, known far and wide for the quality of her goods and her custom orders she attracts the most tourists for the town. No matter how sweet she is you can’t decide if her name is a cute supernova + candy cane mashup or a twist on the anesthetic “Novocain”. Just that fact alone is enough to get her on the list but you cannot get the potential Sweeney Todd vibes out of your head, note to self: don’t watch horror movies when you’re handling murder cases.

Reese Abawi (she/they)- A worker at the local candy store by day and a notorious raver by night, when she sleeps you sure can’t tell. She can get a bit too casual with people but she means well and is quick to apologize if she makes anyone too uncomfy. You’ve seen her sneak new customers “free samples” pretty often and always just says that they’ll just “Put it on their tab”, she obviously feels no shame as they have repeatedly done this in front of Nova without a care in the world (who strangely doesn’t seem to mind). Just for their association to Ms. Kellar you suspect that they could be the “Mrs. Lovett” to her “Sweeny Todd”.

PJ “PbnJ” Fraco (he/they)- A worker at a small fast food joint, apparently he’s a struggling college student who finally moved out of his family household to start a new life of his own. It’s easy to see that he’s been overworked and just needs a days vacation, the deep bags under his eyes and caffeine patches on his arms give all away despite his constant chipper customer service attitude. Recently a manager at their location has gone missing and no matter how sorry you feel for the kid you can’t deny he seems a lot more relaxed ever since. You have a feeling that if he is somehow related to the case he’s likely a scapegoat or a pawn, but you can never be too sure.

Dante Malacoda (he/him)- A biology professor at the college, a bruised and battered man with a mysterious aura and very well spoken. Despite his large stature he seems to be a very kind man, a self-proclaimed “papa bear” to each and every one of his students. He refuses to tell anyone his last name and insists that his pupils simply refer to him as Dante, with a clear passion for teaching and how devoted he is to making sure every student enjoys his class it isn’t hard to see why he is so widely praised, he’s even known for hosting free movie nights in the front courtyard (of which you have been to quite a few). However you cannot deny just how closely he seems to embody Dante’s Inferno, in name and possibly in action too.

Kimberly Harris- Head cheerleader of the college (seems like somebody peaked in highschool?) Despite her thin black hair still seems stuck in that stereotypical ‘dumb blonde’ personality, very airheaded around others, a total klutz, hardly can keep her train of thought. However you’ve noticed that despite her personality she’s yet to fail a class, and while it’s easy to chalk this up to cheating you know personally that Dante makes his class practically impossible to cheat in and whenever someone does manage to slip in a plagiarized essay he is quick to point it out, you’ve even heard that he’s used some of her essays as examples and reference material. Whatever her reasoning is for acting the way she does it’s no doubt highly suspicious in your book.

Phillip Berkely (he/him)- One of the students at the college, he wouldn’t stand out too much if it weren’t for the fact that kick-me signs on his back, the whole bullied nerd deal (what is wrong with the maturity of these students?!) Another bookworm, he seems relatively introverted and reserved, but you can’t help but wonder why the cheerleader chooses to hang around him so much when she doesn’t seem to need any academic help nor appears to be attracted to him. Of course nothing wrong with some opposite-attracts friends, but you cannot deny your keen suspicions (or you’re just padding out your suspects list to look more professional for once?)

Francine “Franny” Stein Macbride? (they/she)- Local weirdo 100% and you’re not the only one who believes it. She seems to work as a cashier at a few different small 24 hour shops (you aren’t sure she is actually employed at these stores since she only seems to pick up the night shift when there is no one else present). Her hair is always messy and her eyes (well at least the one you can see) looks hollow and feels as though she is able to stare right through you. At first you felt bad for them and made it a point to chat with them whenever she was ‘on the clock’, she’s hinted that she does in fact have a good home and just “Cares more about making my space look pretty than worrying about my looks.” You genuinely have grown to enjoy her company but this is the only individual you are certain is connected to a few crimes in the area, you know the name she tells you is at least somewhat fake or meant to hide her identity only going by Franny, and you have caught her using inconsistent name tags, although you’ve noticed the most common one she uses is a purple worn out name tag with the name “Ms. Macbride” listed on it, it’s obvious that this tag has never belonged to a store in town let alone one she “works” at, the tags age is obvious, is it her own last name or possibly someone she was connected to. No matter how much you look up to your boss you refuse to allow personal connection to people to cloud your judgment as it has clouded his.

To all who have read this far I really do appreciate it and will post some scribbles to give a better look at these folks very soon!! Thank y’all and have a nice day!

#long post #1690 words #gamedev #indiedev #game summary #character summary

[moonchild-things]

Chapter One: The Vanishing of Will Byers

Summary: There was nothing extraordinary about Bonnie Ward. A typical teenage girl who never says all that much and doesn’t have too many friends. Hawkins never felt all the strange or special to her, but her opinion changes after being dragged into the horrors that hide in the forests. Interdimensional monsters and psychic people are not what Bonnie would have ever imagined showing up in Hawkins!

Word Count: 4205 

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A/N: I should have been working on the Stranger Things series that I already have somewhat written, The Secret Saga, but I had an idea. So here we are ^-^ WOOO! I've got quite a few chapters already written which means *drum roll* that I'll have a consistent upload with this story ^-^ I'm thinking that I'll upload this story every Monday and then any other stories that I write will be on Fridays. That seems good to me :) Anyway, let's get into the start of this story! Hope you like it!

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SILENCE IS A VIRTUE THAT BONNIE VALUES above nearly everything else. When she has the chance to keep to herself, to be alone with nothing but her thoughts and the never ending silence is a godsend. Personally, Bonnie Ward loves to have utter silence whenever she can. Waking up early is something that she likes to pride herself on, especially when it gives her these moments of silence. Completely alone with her own thoughts to do what she likes. She can finish up any last minute homework or get a head start on some studying for school. Bonnie would like to say she’s a pretty studious kid. Unlike some other high school students who were most likely slacking off on some work or other, Bonnie keeps herself busy with it all. The silence allows her to focus much better, silence allows her to think properly. Which is why she was cursing God now that her silent morning was being interrupted.

“Ay, Freakette, if you want to get to school on time, get up now.” The rough voice of her much older brother grunted as he came storming into her small bedroom. Her perfect start to the morning was ruined, like usual, by her more than annoying older brother. The small black afro on his head was perfectly curly, as he made sure it was every morning. His dark brown eyes pinpointed his little sister sitting at her desk, pausing her scribbling to turn a look at him. “Oh,” Samuel blinked, seeing her already awake, “just get out to the car already.”

Bonnie sighed as he lumbered away and left her bedroom door open. ‘He’s such an ass,’ Bonnie thought to herself. While Bonnie had just turned fifteen at the beginning of the year, her brother was going to turn twenty-nine in a few weeks. A very large age gap when people point it out. That would have to be the only strange thing about the Ward family. They were considered the standard nuclear American family that people aimed for, despite the gap in ages between children. A completely normal family in a completely normal town. In Hawkins, Indiana there really wasn’t anything too abnormal about the small community. 

Sighing through her nose, Bonnie put her school books into her over the shoulder backpack. She made sure that her curly brown hair was pushed back with a random headband and then trudged out of her bedroom. Walking down the stairs, Bonnie found her father lounging at the kitchen table with the day's newspaper in hand and her mother cleaning up her used dishes.

Her bald-headed father, a tough looking black man in his early fifties, peered over the newspaper as his daughter stepped down the stairs. “Morning, Bon,” he greeted her as she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. David Ward is one of the best father’s that Bonnie could have asked for. Sure, at times he could be a hardass on her, but she respected him for it. 

“Do you want breakfast, Bonnie?” The sweet voice of her mother asked. Savannah Ward, much like her husband, is quite a great parent. She’s caring, nurturing, but also doesn’t take no nonsense. That’s most likely the reason why she and Samuel butt heads so much. Not only that but she was quite a beautiful woman for her age. With some of the clearest skin that you could ever find and luscious black hair made her appear years younger. Bonnie shook her head no. She had already snuck a snack in a while ago when she first woke up. So she would survive until lunch time. “Alright then.”

“I’m leaving,” Samuel grunted as he marched through the foyer and out the door.

Savannah called after him, “Samuel, wait for your sister!”

He just shouted over his shoulder, “Whatever, Ma.” He then climbed into his 1975 mustang and lit a cigarette as he impatiently waited for the teenager.

“That man,” Savannah sighed heavily. She then turned to give her daughter a kiss on the crown of her head, “Have a good day, sweetheart.” Bonnie smiled at her kind mother as a goodbye before heading out the door to jump into her brother’s car. He then peeled out of the driveway, as if he was in the middle of the indy 500.

It was normal for Bonnie to suffer through the erratic driving of her brother, so she was prepared to have herself nearly thrown backwards into her seat at the fast driving. Through the cigarette perched on his lips, Samuel snarked, “just so you know, I won’t be picking you up.” Bonnie rolled her eyes, now staring out of the window at the houses passing by. Through one of his douchey smirks he continued, “some boys and I are getting plans together for the upcoming football game. Which by the way, if you go, make sure to keep your distance,” He glared at her from the corner of his eyes, “Don’t want anyone seeing my freak sister hanging around me, got it.”

Bonnie huffed, but grunted in agreement. It’s not like she cared anyway. ‘As if I want to be around a bunch of douchebags.’ She wouldn’t be caught dead at any sports games for school. Something like football didn’t interest her at all, let alone to go to a game or anything. Being surrounded by the empty headed jocks and cheerleaders is not something that she enjoys all too much. 

Due to the age difference between them, the Ward siblings never really connected on any level. Not only that but their interests were completely different from each other. Samuel is all about sports, specifically football, and parties any chance that he could. Meanwhile, Bonnie liked to do more quiet activities, read, draw, write, or any activity that kept her away from people. She enjoys her silence and being alone allows her to get that. Perhaps if they were closer in age, the two would get along more. However, with there being a fourteen year age gap proved to cause a discrepancy in their ability to get along. 

Eventually, after a stiff car ride, they arrived at the high school. With no words exchanged, Bonnie got out of the car just before Samuel raced out of the parking lot, nearly running over a few students. Those students being boys that Bonnie is familiar with.

Eddie and Gareth shouted out quite a few curses at the speeding car as they narrowly avoided it. Bonnie cringed at the sight and approached the pair as they collected themselves after the near miss. “Fuckin’ douche bag,” Gareth grunted.

“Asshole!” Eddie shouted after the car, but Samuel was already long gone. Bonnie approached the pair with an apologetic tilt of her head. Every time anyone she was friendly with had the unfortunate chance of meeting her brother she has to apologize somehow. Eddie turned to her as she approached and scoffed, “How do you live with that guy, Bon?” She just shrugged her shoulders and eyed him with a familiar sadness in her eyes. Eddie looked down at her, recognizing the apology without her even saying a word, and said, “Oh don’t be sorry, it’s that asshole who should be.” Still she couldn’t help herself but be sorry for her brother’s behavior. Someone had to be the adult about his actions, and it certainly wasn’t going to be Samuel.

Gareth draped his shoulder over her shoulder, with her being a head or two shorter than him, and clicked his tongue. “How an angel like you is related to that is beyond me.” 

‘They really need to stop saying things like this.’ Bonnie shook her head and couldn’t help the heat that traveled up her neck.

These two boys were a part of the group that Bonnie would consider her friends. All of them were labeled freaks at their school, and freaks tend to stick together when they have no one else. Bonnie is an outcast, there’s really no debate about that. Thanks to her mutism, she doesn’t stand out to any capacity and when people do notice her, they find it weird that she doesn’t say much. Though without saying anything, people can tell that she is an emotional person. She has the capability to convey her emotions just through her soulful eyes. Even with all that emotion, it was like she was able to read people’s minds just by looking at them, another reason why people tended to avoid her. Though not the Hellfire Club. Sure, she wasn’t that interested in D&D, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t offer her, a fellow “freak”, a safe haven whenever she needed.

Eddie cleared this throat and put on a posh accent, “Shall we escort this maiden to her destination.”

Gareth joined in, “We shall. M’lady,” he offered her an elbow, which caused her to giggle lightly and take it. Eddie did the same and the trio entered the school through the throngs of hormonal and desperate teenagers. Gareth and Eddie escorted Bonnie to her locker and dramatically presented Bonnie to her destination through slight laughter and teasing.

Bonnie shook her head at their silliness and smiled widely at them. They certainly were some of the most amusing people, she’s glad to say that they were her friends. Eddie ruffled his bushy hair and leaned beside her locker, “so we’ll see you today at Hellfire, right?” Bonnie nodded her head. That seemed to brighten his smile, “great, and I assume you need a ride home.” It wasn’t a question since Eddie usually ended up being her rides home since her parents were always busy and her brother certainly wasn’t going to do it. Though it’s not like either of them minded. They liked each other's company and, no matter how many times Bonnie apologized for the inconvenience, Eddie didn’t have any issue with taking a slight detour. Her house was on the way to Gareth’s house, where the boys went to practice for their band, so he was always ready to drop her off.

The bell then rang, signifying that their classes were going to start soon. Bonnie exhaled sharply through her nose, her annoyance clear on her face. One thing that she was not looking forward to today was chemistry class. She certainly does not have the affinity for things like science, and that was clear through her mediocre grades in chemistry and algebra. Numbers are just so hard.

Gareth clicked his tongue, also dreading having to go to class. Oh the woes of being a teenager. “Looks like it’s time to suffer,” he said sadly.

“Just think, after all this we can continue our awesome campaign after school,” Eddie said, nearly salivating at the idea of getting to do their campaign after school. The Hellfire Club was in the middle of quite an intense D&D campaign. It was all gibberish to Bonnie, but she still liked seeing how worked up the boys got over it. She smiled widely and held her books tightly to her chest. “See you, fair maiden!” The two boys then swaggered away through the throngs of teens as Bonnie shook her head at their silliness and turned to head to her own class.

Maneuvering her way through the current of teenagers, Bonnie made her way to her first class of the day. She scurried her way into the chemistry room and took her seat. She could feel the anxiety wafting off of everyone in the room. There was a test coming up soon for this class, and everyone was more than nervous about it. Even Nancy Wheeler, one of the smartest girls in the class, was worrying about it. Mr. Kaminsky is a hard ass when it comes to his tests. Which made Bonnie’s life a living hell. It was no wonder why this class had her worst grade. A damn B-. It was a black mark on her record, in her opinion.

Speaking of Nancy Wheeler, she came waltzing into the room. Her smile glistened in the morning sun as she greeted her peers while heading for her seat, right next to Bonnie. Nancy even gave Bonnie a smile and small greeting before pulling out her notebooks and some blank flashcards.

“Hey, Bonnie, do you mind helping me with my flashcards?” Nancy asked nicely, “Can you write down the last of these answers?”

Bonnie nodded her head and took a few flashcards. Nancy appeared to be more than grateful with the agreement. So Bonnie started to scribble down the answers to the questions on the other side of the flashcard. She was certain that she would most likely end up using these alongside Nancy and Barbra for some studying in class.

Bonnie wouldn’t say that she was friends with either girl. Though they were acquaintances at the very least. They worked together on some projects, had short study groups while in class, and helped each other on homework when they needed it. Though their relationships didn’t go anywhere outside of this classroom. Still, that didn’t mean that Bonnie didn’t know anything about them outside of chemistry.

There was some new gossip that Bonnie has heard recently. Since Bonnie never really spoke or was never really regarded much by her peers, many spoke openly while in her presence. Either they never noticed her or cared to think that she would do anything with the gossip she overhears. Bonnie was privy to quite a few tidbits of information regarding nearly everyone at Hawkins High. She’s heard all about who was dating who, who cheated on who, the things that happen at parties, and many, many more things. Though they were right about one thing, Bonnie wasn’t going to tell anyone about it. Most of the things she heard were useless information. There’s not much that she can do with the info of how Tommy H. cheated on Carol yet again. Though the newest gossip she heard was all about Nancy Wheeler.

Apparently word had gotten around that Steve “The Hair” Harrington had set his sights on her. The pair might be dating? Or was it just another one of Steve’s flings? No one was completely sure just yet. Though Bonnie figured that they were at least somewhat together. Not like she cared. The popular kids were some that Bonnie avoided with how that relentlessly bullied her friends and even herself.

Bonnie had to deal with bullies for most of her time in school in Hawkins. Middle school was slightly better, but high school just amplified it. She’s dealt with popular kids calling her a freak, racists saying some slurs, and mean girls saying she wasn’t girly enough(whatever that meant, Bonnie still wasn’t sure about that one.). Bonnie has found that silence is one of the perfect ways to get them to stop bothering her. After all, they’re just looking for a reaction. By not saying anything in retaliation, they didn’t get the reactions they wanted and they’d leave her alone, for the most part.

The rest of the day was normal and boring. Nothing that exciting happened to Bonnie as she went about her day. Mosing along with her peers from class to class, going to meet up with the Hellfire Club for lunch, and suffering through her gym class. Eventually, the last class of the day came upon her. History class with Mrs. Click. While it was easier than any math related subject for Bonnie, it still wasn’t her favorite. Really the only class that she enjoys is English. Though there was one thing that seemed out of place.

Currently, the class had the assignment of making a presentation about world war 1 with a partner. Something that can be easily done after a few days. The only issue for Bonnie today was that her partner was missing. Sure, people miss school, but it was just slightly unusual for Jonathan Byers. Bonnie figured that he wasn’t a perfect student, no perfect attendance or anything, but his absence just felt… strange. Whatever it was, it didn’t impede her work. She just continued to do some short research and write a script for them when they present. After that, the final bell of the day rang, and the students were finally free. 

Grabbing her things and heading down the quickly emptying halls, Bonnie knew just where to go. If she had gone outside to the parking lot, it wouldn’t be a surprise to see that her brother would be nowhere to be found. Just as he said that morning, he wasn’t going to be coming to pick her up today. Surprise, surprise. Though if she’s being honest, Bonnie much preferred it when he didn’t. 

When Samuel wasn’t around to take her home from school, it just meant that she got to hang out with the Hellfire Club. So she made her way to their club room with a small skip in her step. She would tell anyone that she very much enjoys hanging around the small group of boys. Even if they were labeled as freaks, they were 

“Hey, Bonnie!” Jeff, a fellow sophomore, greeted the girl as she came into the room. The boy gave her a large smile as she sat herself down in the seat between him and Eddie. “Are you ready to see us start an amazing adventure!?” Bonnie nodded her head enthusiastically at the flamboyant way he asked her.

“Come on, children,” Eddie said dramatically as he stood at the head of the table. The aura of adventure and craziness around him grows as his smile grows wide, “it’s time for the fun to begin!”

The rambunctious boys all talked animatedly with each other as they went through their campaign. It was quite the scene to watch from her seat overlooking the table. Most of the time when they talked about spells or locations, it sounded like another language to Bonnie. Though it made her more than happy to see them this giddy and passionate over their hobby. The room was full of contagious feelings of happiness that Bonnie was always infected with. They laughed and groaned all throughout the beginning of the campaign as Eddie was the near perfect DM for the club. He’s always so zealous about his campaigns and does his best to think up the greatest campaigns that he can come up with. 

‘He’s so cool,’ Bonnie marveled in her own thoughts as she watched him laugh at the misfortune of his friends.

It became later in the day, close to dinner time and the sky was starting to become night. The boys thought that it was time to call it for the day. It was just the beginning of this new campaign, and it would no doubt last quite a while. All the tricks and misfortune that he put into the game for his friend’s characters to find were both annoying and impressive from their point of view. Though it was time for them to say goodbye for the day. Bonnie said good night to Jeff, Gareth, and Peter as Eddie stuck by her.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.” Eddie said as he laid his arm over her shoulders. So the two waltzed through the near empty halls of their school towards the parking lot. Climbing into the black van, Bonnie buckled herself up in the front passenger seat.

Riding in Eddie’s van was not tense by any means. Sure, Bonnie didn’t speak while they were riding along the streets of Hawkins, but that didn’t mean the van was silent. Eddie usually kept things lively as he went on about the latest song that his band Corroded Coffin had been practicing or the next idea he had for the D&D Campaign. He could speak enough for the both of them when given the chance. Honestly, this had to be the highlight of Bonnie’s day. 

The ride was about twenty minutes, but felt like five minutes since the two were having quite a fun time. Soon enough they make it the Ward household, much to their dismay. They sit in the front seats for a short while and say their goodbyes for the night. That usually consisted of Eddie making some grandiose display of displeasure at having to say goodbye while Bonnie silently giggled at his words. If there’s one person who could always make her laugh, it was Eddie Munson, and she loved that.

Watching from the front window, Savannah smiled as she saw Bonnie and Eddie talk and say goodbye to each other. She found the scene quite adorable, and more than glad that Bonnie had a friend like this. “That Munson boy is so nice for taking you home after school.”

David grunted and crossed his arms over his chest, “I don’t like it.”

“Bonnie is a growing girl, dear,” Savannah said while rolling her eyes, “no doubt boys would start to notice.”

He just rolled his eyes, “He’s too old for her, too… strange.”

His wife shook her head at him, “Oh, let them be, he seems perfectly fine.” In her mind, Bonnie is growing into a young woman, it’s fine for her to explore relationships for a bit. Though that didn’t mean they wouldn’t vet her potential boyfriends. As if Savannah would just let some boy sweep her daughter off her feet before finding out everything about him that she could.

“Sam should be taking her home,” David grumbled, “not some boy who no doubt has bad intentions with Bon.” Bonnie then came through the front door, her ever present smile on her face. She greeted her parents with a small wave which earned her a kiss on the head from her mother. 

Bonnie made quick work of going into the kitchen to grab herself a snack, ‘I saw a banana in here earlier.’ As she searched for something to munch on, she heard her parents talking.

Savannah shrugged her shoulders, “Samuel should be taking her home. Oh, that man, I’ll be having a talk with him.”

“The only way to get through to him is to kick him out, Savannah.” He was right. It’s been a while since Samuel had to move back in with his parents. Though at this point, David was more than annoyed with him still being around. Samuel is a grown man and should have his life together at this point, in his opinion. David knows Samuel screwed his life up horrendously, though figured that he’d be on his own feet by now. Though that was just wishful thinking for a man like Samuel.

Savannah looked at her husband as if he had said the most scandalous thing, “We don’t need anything too drastic!”

Now taking small bites from her banana, Bonnie thought to herself, ‘we never should have let him move back in.’ After doing something like cheating on your wife, Bonnie didn’t think that Samuel deserved to come back home. She gets that her mom would want to protect her son no matter what, but after doing something like that?

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, the front door opened and in waltzed Samuel. His whistling ceased as he noticed his parents sitting in the living room, staring at him as he walked in. “Hey, mom, dad.”

That was when the floodgates of scolding started, “Samuel Ward, why didn’t you pick up your sister again.” His mother started out with her hand on her hips, “You didn’t pick her up three times last week!”

He scoffed, “She’s a big girl now, she can get her own rides home.”

“Bonnie is a teenager who does not have her license yet, she needs you to take her home!” David said sternly to him, though from the way that Samuel rolled his eyes at that, it wasn’t getting anywhere. The man was still going to deflect any sort of responsibility away from himself, even something as simple as picking up his little sister from school.

Samuel rolled his eyes, “She’s got that Munson freak drivin’ her home, she’s perfectly fine.”

“Samuel!”

As Savannah scolded her son, Bonnie glared at him and punched him as hard as she could in his side. She might allow herself to be called names, but she wouldn’t take that going against her friends.

Samuel grunted, “Ah, bitch!”

“Language!” David nearly roared at his son before looking to his daughter, “Don’t hit your brother either.” 

Bonnie just huffed through her nose and marched her way up the stairs. The last thing she wants right now is to be in the tense atmosphere as her brother is told off. Even though she knows that nothing will come of it. No matter how many times her parents told him off for his wrong doing, he kept doing it. Only because he hadn’t faced any real consequences for his actions. 

She definitely didn’t want to think about that right now. Hearing the faint arguing of her family from downstairs, she sat down at her desk and pulled out her homework. Until it was dinner time, she’d just constantly sit in her room, in her silence, and do her work. The one thing that she can confidently believe in, silence is a virtue.

---

A/n: So I think that this is a pretty okay start for this series. Gotta be honest, its actually so nice to write this way since I have everything already planned out, already written so I don't have to stress about rushing chapters or anything. Means I can take my time with them and end up with a much better quality to my writing. At least, I hope that's how it is lol

I had the idea for Bonnie after listening to the Go-Go's last month and thought 'How would I write a character who doesn't really speak?' I saw it as a challenge with myself since I like to write dialogue and make the conversations between characters as realistic as I can. Having a character whos more show don't tell with their expressions in a sense seems like good practice for writing, not gonna lie. So I just thought I haven't written much for Stranger Things and I ended up rewatching season 4 the week I came up with Bonnie and thought, why not write a new Stranger Things fic and we are here :) 

In the beginning I thought maybe making Bonnie's story just a oneshot, cause I want to write those a bunch and post them to my Tumblr at some point. Though I just got to into writing more about her background and creating her family. I got carried away and now it's gonna be a full fic lmao

Though I am gonna be working on some oneshots of plenty of different fandoms that I might make a oneshot fic or just keep them on my Tumblr, I'm not sure yet. But I have many fics that are half baked and wouldn't be good to be fleshed out in a full fic, so oneshots they will become! Plus writing out some short blurbs, oneshots, headcannons even would be interesting. I've never done that before, it'll be a new experience lmao

Let me know what you thought of it! Until the next one my friends~! See you next Wednesday!

Blog Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #fanfiction #fanfic #fic masterlist #fanfic masterlist #masterlist #multiple ocs #ocs #oc #female!oc #female oc #male!oc #male oc #season 1 #season one #stranger things 1x01

[madalice31]

I won’t post the pics here cause…wow. But I just saw photos of Diddy’s 16 year old twin daughters and the outfit these girls have on at their sweet 16 party… chiiiild🤦🏽‍♀️. Omg. It’s like grown people at this party and they have on the equivalent of some futuristic, anime, lingerie. I mean literal corset panty bottoms and a bra with shoulder pads. 🫣🫣🫣🫣

I mean seriously, these girls JUST turned 16. Like they were 15 24 hrs ago.

And did I mention they JUST turned 16?! Not 18. Not 21. 16. 😐

It just bothers me the level of hyper sexuality amongst young teens that has been thrusted onto them by social media. It’s not a costume party and even so…why?! im 33, it’s not like I’m super out of touch. But I didn’t even have the desire to dress like that at 16. Not to talk about whether my parents would LET me. And I’m Nigerian. So that’s a whole other thing.

But I’m not one to tell a women how to dress. But that’s just it, they not women. These are some lil ass girls, not even the type that look older than their age. And they literally got barely there outfits on.

The outfits themselves might be cute in another situation and on different people. I won’t take that away. But they are not age appropriate for them. That’s the point. Your whole body on display and you not old enough or legal for anything (drinks) yet. But for me, it’s the fact that Diddy is comfortable enough to let them dress like that! Even if I were to give him the benefit of the doubt (he didn’t know they would be dressed like that or he talked to them but they so spoiled they wasn’t hearing it) regardless I feel like a father who has a real relationship with his daughters would have helped them with a much better outfit. I mean he had a whole fashion line. I’m sure he could have helped get them something better and more age appropriate but still with their style and personality infused. But then again, he’s dating women literally 5 or 6 years older than his own twin daughters, so probably not the right person to expect more of in that regard…but still. It makes me feel sad they don’t have their mother in their life or any stable female figure for that matter. You can be glam and still be age appropriate.

Good lord smh. Back to minding my business lol. But seeing that just triggered me. Got kids aspiring to be insta baddies before their time and it’s just crazy. And if they dressed like that now?! I hope someone has a talk with them before they hit 21 cause clearly it won’t be their father.

Edit: Funny how everyone seems to be more focused on the game and his daughter’s outfit. All tho in my opinion, compared to Diddy’s daughters, her outfit was waaay more tame. Maybe a bit short and the design borders on age inappropriate, but she had a big fur coat on so she wasn’t showing much. She just wanted to feel cute. But Definitely no “cleavage,” butt or abs on display like Diddy’s daughters. And yet the 12 year old is getting the most back lash.

I realize people seem to think 16 is “close enough”. Smh. Diddy is the only one who should be getting back lash to me. But America has this weird fetish with children. Oh protect the kids until their old enough to stare at. Which is apparently 16 and you’ll have men literally counting down the two years. That’s what makes their outfits so concerning to me. Like is he showing off to prospects? Waiting for someone to show interest so they can take the twins off his hands? Cause they do look and act expensive. (That’s his fault tho.) It sounds all very game of thrones and it seems that’s exactly what’s starting to cause society to think it’s normal for a 20 something or 30 something man to show interest in a 16 year old. I’m not saying that’s exactly what was happening at that party… but I mean Drake was there. That’s red flag one to me. Why all these grown men at a party for 16 year olds and on top of that the twins dressed like bottle service girls in the club on Halloween night?

Just protect the young girls is all I’m saying. Shit is wild.

#sean diddy combs #personal blog #jmo #sweet sixteen #is now sexy sixteen? #I guess

[kingdaddydaichi]

can i request consensual hate sex between bakugou and f!reader

Oooooh yassssss! This idea got better and better the more I thought about it, Nonny. Love it! I hope you enjoy this naughty little slice of grudge fuck pie. 💖

Riding The Fine Line 💥 Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader 💥 NSFW

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT or I'll have my Big Scary BoomBoom Man blow your little ass up!

Word Count: 2k

"Oi! Who picked this shitty restaurant anyway?", Bakugou sneered as he walked towards the table.

You rolled your eyes and mumbled, "Oh look, Gorilla Man is here".

"Watch it, shitty girl. M'not in the mood for your shit tonight".

You'd made plans earlier in the week to meet Kiri and Mina for dinner. You knew Bakugou had been invited too, but after having suffered through it so many times over the past year or so of having some friends in common, you somehow managed to tolerate his presence. It helped that the drink you'd been sipping on made him somewhat less intolerable than usual.

It was like nails down a chalkboard every time Bakugou reared his big dumb head. His only redeeming quality was that he was quite easy on the eyes. Shame that such a hot guy is also such a huge asshole.

He's always given everyone a hard time, but unlike most people, you just wave a dismissive hand at him. And it makes him crazy. He doesn’t understand why he doesn’t get under your skin like he so easily does others. Oh, he annoys the piss out of you to be sure, but he doesn't hurt your feelings per se.

"Y'know, for such a massive ego yours sure is delicate, you meat head".

"Oh yeah? Well, for such a massive ass yours s-"

"God, Bakugou, do you ever just shut up?", you snipped.

Kiri and Mina both jumped in, laughing nervously and smoothing things over to lower the tension. He growled at you. You flipped him a subtle bird before looking away and trying to ignore him.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

Kiri's birthday was approaching and several of his friends decided to throw him a surprise birthday party. You, Denki, Mina, and ugh, as luck would have it, Bakugou, were are all put in charge of decorating his house while some other friends took him out for dinner. Midway through, Mina whined while sorting through various sacks, "Oh no! We forgot the disposable rainbow shot glasses!" Mina had a way of putting a cute touch on everything she had her hands in. Denki offered to go with Mina to procure the missing miniature party cups, leaving you and Bakugou alone to hang streamers in Kiri's living room. Probably not the wisest of decisions, but consider the source. 👀

It didn't take long after they were gone for Bakugou to start in on you with his bullshit. Only this time no one was around to referee. You groaned. This was going to be a free for all. You'd already both cut eyes at each other a couple of times.

"You're not doing it right, dumbass!"

"That's a matter of opinion and you can shove yours up your ass, dumbass".

He flipped you off saying, "You can shove this up your ass!", then turned back to his task.

You were so done. Without thinking, you reared back and hurled the roll of streamers as hard as you could, nailing him right in the back of the head. Damn, it felt good.

He whipped around, a vein popping out of his forehead, clenching his teeth. You were quite proud of your aim until he made little explosions in his free hand and said, "You're really pushing your luck with me, woman! If we weren't in Kiri's house right now I'd blast you right through that fucking wall!"

"Pfft, whatever! You wouldn't do shit. You're all bark and no bite, you fucking douche canoe!"

"You ever stop to think that maybe if you weren't such a bitch guys might actually want to talk to you?"

That did it. He'd finally found one of your hot buttons and you couldn't take his shit anymore. You marched right up to him and got right up in his face, height difference be damned.

"You know what, fuck you, Bakugou! I'm not normally like this! You're the only person who…drives me to this madness!", you spat with tears in your eyes.

A second later, his hands were on either side of your face, crashing his lips down onto yours. You were so shocked you froze before pulling away from him, staring at him in astonishment. He just stood there, huffing, glaring back at you, waiting.

You stepped forward and pushed him, his back hitting the wall, hard. But before he could protest, your lips were on his again. He grabbed you by your arms and spun you around, pinning you against the wall. You slipped your tongue past your open mouth, his meeting yours halfway as he pushed his knee between your legs. He pressed his thigh against your sex, shoving his growing cock against your thigh in the process.

Taking the bottom of his shirt into two fistfuls, you eagerly pushed it up to his chest, exposing his washboard abs and god-like pecs. He quickly pulled it over his head and threw it to the floor while your shaky hands got busy with his belt and zipper, urgently, like you couldn't get to him soon enough. But his will took over when he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head so he could peel your shirt off. He dipped down to take a mouthful of your tit, cupping what he couldn't fit in his rough hand, swirling his tongue around your nipple, sucking, then releasing you from the inside of his mouth to flick the tip of his tongue over your pink nub. You grabbed two handfuls of his ash blond locks and arched your back off the wall as he gave your other breast the same treatment.

You impatiently tugged on his hair, hungry for the taste of his sweet lips again. Your tongues once again fought for dominance and you gasped when he picked you up in one swift movement. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to Kiri's bedroom, swinging the door shut behind him before slamming your back against it.

"Put me down", you said forcefully.

He stopped sucking on your neck long enough to rasp, "And why the fuck should I?"

"Because I want to get into your fucking pants, asshole".

For once you two agreed on something and with your feet back on the floor, you got back to work on his pants before reaching in and wrapping your hand around his hot dick. Shit, you could barely get your fingers all the way around it, it was so thick. You stroked him a couple of times before pulling him out, exposing his manhood in all of its mouth-watering glory.

He ran his hand down his sculpted stomach, spreading his fingers to either side of his girth. "Like what you see?" You realized you were staring at his dick and the pre that dripped from it.

"Wouldn't you like to know?", you sassed.

He growled and spun you around, pushing your front against the wall and swiftly closing in behind you. Wisps of your (color) hair fluttered around his hot breath as he breathed down your neck. "You keep on tryin' to hide it, but you want me just as much as I want you, princess, and I'm gonna make an honest girl outta ya".

His battle-hardened hands found their way down your back, around your waist and all the way to your belly before he slid them down, his fingers reaching below your waistband. You willed him to push his hands further down, pressing your backside against his erection. He used one deft hand to unbutton your pants and work your zipper down, granting himself better access. When he mercifully slipped his middle finger between your folds, you couldn't choke back the moan that emerged from the back of your throat.

"Damn", he growled behind your ear, "for someone who can't stand me, your pussy sure is wet for me".

"Shut up", you gritted through your teeth.

The feeling of the rough pad of his finger teasing your swollen clit nearly sent you over the edge. But it was short-lived and you whined when he pulled his hand away to shove your pants down around your ankles, accompanied by your damp panties. Your hands slid down the wall as he yanked your ass back towards him. You hung your head and watched the head of his cock as Bakugou fucked your thighs, back and forth over your slit, coating his fat cock with your slick, readying himself.

When he began pushing into you, your legs shook from the sheer pressure as he slowly filled you up. When he bottomed out, he held himself still, at least considerate enough to give you time to adjust to his size. He waited until you started grinding against him before grabbing your hips, and slowly withdrawing.

"Now let's see if I can fuck all that hate for me out of you". Before you could retort, he slammed his cock back into you, your pitiful cry mixed with his loud groan echoing off the walls of Kiri's bedroom. He set his pace, steady and hard, the cold buckle of his open belt pressing into your skin with every crash of his hips.

"Yeah, who knows? Maybe if you'd get your dick wet every once in a while you wouldn't act like one", you quipped, voice faltering as he pounded into you.

He slowed his pace to bend over you, pushing your hair out of the way before biting down on the nape of your neck.

"Oww!! What the fuck?!"

He stood up straight again, laughing and said, "All bark and no bite, hah? You just hadn't pushed me far enough yet!" The sweet and salty mixture of his sweat and your need could be heard with every loud slap of his skin against yours.

"Fuck! Bakugou-", you whined in spite of yourself.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and gave it a firm tug. "When're ya gonna stop callin' me by m'last name and call me Katsuki instead?"

"When you stop acting like a raging asshole towards me", you managed as he fucked the breath out of you.

"Brave words for someone in such a compromising position. Now - say - my - fucking - name!". Each word came with its very own plunge of his cock into your mess of a cunt.

Your legs started to give out. "Katsuki!" You hadn't meant to obey him, but he'd kept his word and made you honest.

"That's better". You could hear the smirk in his voice after hearing his first name fall from your quivering lips.

You turned to face him when he pulled out, kissing him hard, his fingers going into your hair. You inched backwards onto the bed, Katsuki crawling in towards you with a primal look in his crimson eyes before nestling his thighs between yours and sheathing himself deep inside you again. Your head rolled back as you arched your back off the bed. Gods, the feeling of him filling you up was quickly becoming your new favorite sensation.

He nuzzled his face against your neck as he rutted into you, pulling your thigh up to his hip bone, raking his teeth against your skin. His breathing had become more labored and he started thrusting faster, your pleasure mounting with the increased friction of his pubic bone against your clit until rays of bliss shot out from every pore of your skin at the speed of light.

"K-ka-tsuki, I'm c-cumming hahh oh goddd!" The pulsating grip that you had on him finally sent him to his end as well, growling your name and cursing between clenched teeth, burying himself deep inside you as he unloaded rope after thick rope of his white hot cum into your snug, soft warmth.

"Seems Shitty Hair’s gonna get more than one surprise tonight", Katsuki said, catching his breath.

You laughed so hard that Katsuki hissed at the feeling of your walls squeezing his sensitive cock so soon after his orgasm.

"You still hate me?", he asked, brushing his lips against yours, supporting his weight with his elbows.

"Hmm...that depends", you said thoughtfully, tracing the cut of his back muscles with your fingertips.

"On what?"

"On whether or not you'd still fuck me if I don't hate you".

He smirked. "I'd still hit it even if you love me", he whispered, showing his softer side as he kissed you, smiling.

#grudge f*ck #katsuki bakugou #i want him to hate me this much #ugh #that man #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsuki #bakugou #bakugo #katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x y/n #king explosion murder #lord explosion murder #dynamight

[chiliiscereal]

May I offer a prompt of how the turtles would be with a mom friendTM? you know the type I mean? like.... I think they might benefit from that kind of friend in the group lol (also I love your stories, your such a cool writer keep up the awesome work!)

Rottmnt headcanon: mom friend TM

And thanks so much!

Mom friends are severely underrated XD

——

-Okay these boys need a mom friend badly

-but that’s where you come in!

-as the mom friend you keep them safe in many ways

Donnie💜

-starting with this guy, he never really wanted a mom friend

-when April first brought you over he was cold

-didn’t even bother talking to you

-you were determined to befriend him, even though he left whenever you tried to talk to him

-you became comfortable with the turtles quickly and the others accepted your mom friend nature

-not Donnie though

-he didn’t hate you, sure, but you were too much

-you were too overbearing and too nervous for his safety!

-you’d make him wear a helmet when he used his jet pack 

-you made him put on SUNSCREEN whenever he went outside

-you told him to be careful when rewiring a project even!

-it’s like you wanted to ruin his bad boy image

-he hated it and wanted you to stop being so smothering

-…

-…until he realized that attention and moral support comes with the smothering

-the moment he realizes that he’s all for it

-he’s no longer hiding his inventions from you so you won’t bug him, but he’s seeking you out for your advice and praise

“Hey so I made this and… I don’t know…”

“Wow you built that? It’s awesome!” 

“Really? I mean, I know, I just wanted to show you that it was.”

-praise ain’t something this boy has

-have you SEEN how his brothers react to his ideas?

-he needs this

-with praise comes affection

-I’m talking homemade snacks and questions that his brothers never ask

-you’re there if he needs a cup of coffee or if he hasn’t eaten in a while or taken a nap

-“don, it’s been two days since you slept go to bed.”

-“*hissssss*”

-“I’ll make a cup of coffee for you after...?”

-“*hisses but less intense*”

-you may be good at making snacks and everything

-very good in facts

-but the questions are probably his favorite part

“Woah what’s that supposed to do?”

“Well it’s a device that’s meant to fix all the broken McDonald’s ice cream machines.”

“That’s amazing! What did you use to build it? How does it work?”

-you’re actually trying to learn about his work!

-you’re trying to learn about him!

-he loves it

-and he loves that you’re careful to

-it’s a nice change from his brothers

-you’re someone he can depend on

-doesn’t matter if it’s missions or just being a good friend

-and I mean it when I say depend

-you’re there when he needs help rewiring something or just to simply talk about his dumb dumb brothers

-honestly April isn’t even mad that Donnie stole one of her best friends

-she knows he needs this

-Donnie fully learned to trust you after the purple dragons mishap

-you told him they were untrustworthy but his heart was dead set on that satin jacket

-when he came back to the lair, late at night, with no satin jacket and a handful of his missing tech, he found you raising an eyebrow at him from where you had sat to wait for him

-he knew from then on to trust you and your opinions, even though his often got in the way

-you can often be found sitting on Donnies bed while he works, offering your company and comments

-Normally no one else is allowed in while he works but that’s just because they don’t have anything positive to provide

 Raph❤️ 

-Raph IS the mom friend

-your mom friend energy and his mom friend energy just work together so well together

-I’m talking planning missions together, figuring new ways to trick his brothers into being responsible, cleaning the dishes, and even making snacks together

-“so the mission is tomorrow right?”

-“yep! Should we bring apples with peanut butter or pretzels with hummus?”

-“well Donnie doesn’t like peanut butter, but Mikey does, so both?”

-“awesome! And you’ve got the water covered?”

-“dude I even have caprisuns packed so we’re ready!”

-the others find it to be too much with the two of you but Raph really appreciates the help

-especially during the pizza puff episode

-oh that part nearly set you on fire with worry

-Raph had never seen you that worked up

-you had a fan for Leo, a bowl for Mikey, and a bag of fruit snacks for Donnie

-Raph has to activate his supreme mom friend energy to get you to stop hovering over them

-that meant literally dragging you away from them so they could figure things out on their own

-he’s seen you be a mom friend to them all the time

-but never once for him

-you two were like... co mom friends working together to stop the younger irresponsible three

-until Raph got separated in the sewer

-oh man you were torn with worry

-you nearly destoryed the place looking for him

-and finding him all savage like that... ack that was enough to practically shatter your heart in two

-once he stopped trying to barbecue villains and destroy his brothers you took him to the lair and helped him calm down

-you even turned on a movie for the two of you so he could relax

-it was nice to have your best friend and partner in stopping crime back

-Raph of course was embarrassed because it’s HIS job to help everyone, not the other way around

-after much assurance you had him convinced that you didn’t mind

-he was grateful to have you and your help

-he just wished you didn’t worry quite so much

Leo 💙:

-this boy is soaking it all up from the start

-someone to compliment him?

-someone to help him out?

-someone to admire his achievements?

-oh he’s all for it

-he’s showing off skateboard stunts, he’s doing flips, and he’s randomly pulling you to him and creating a portal

-usually you end up somewhere sketchy but sometimes it works out

-you always have to be ready though

-one minute you’re walking to the projector room and the next you’re in New Jersey with a sheepish looking red slider

-his only problem is now he has to be more careful with skateboard tricks

-he’s fine with a helmet but when it comes to you hovering next to him while he’s going down the skate ramp...

-eh he’s not so fond of that

-praise?

-sure

-home made gifts and cards?

-always appreciated

-but you constantly trying to protect him from things he knew how to do?

-no

-just no

-now he only feels like he can skate if you’re not there or if he goes to a skate park without telling you

-you figure out quickly and still worry that he’ll mess up a flip

-doesn’t matter if you’re watching or not

-you’re the mom friend

-your job is to worry

-you promised that you’d stop worrying about him if he can back

-you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable in his own home!

-he agreed and you did your best to keep your promise

-...

-until he actually messed up a flip

-you don’t know WHAT he landed on but it must have been sharp because there was a LOT of blood

-maybe you thought there was a lot because you were so worried but still

-you hadn’t even been in the room but you heard his shout (and crash) and you came running

-oh he was lucky you carried gauze and everything in your bag because other wise they’d have to go buy some

-you chewed him out while patching him up, much to his displeasure

-you’re both sweet and sour about it

-“I’m fine! Look, nothing’s broken!”

-“I TOLD you that you could get hurt! I TOLD you it wasn’t safe! Why did you not listen- I’m sorry does that hurt? I’m sorry!”

-“yeah it does hurt-.”

-“than you should have listened to me!!”

-for a while he’s bitter that you were just waiting for him to mess up

-clearly you thought he was just a big clutz to you

-but after a while of him avoiding you and pouting you brought it up again

-“I’m not just waiting for you to fail you know. I just want you to be okay.”

-“that’s not what it feels like! You clearly don’t trust me!”

-“life happens, Leo! Doesn’t matter how skilled you are! You’re an amazing skater but sometimes mistakes are made!”

-ha that changed his tune quickly

-“you think I’m an amazing and skilled skater?

-you just rolled your eyes and left, not saying anything about his comment

-didn’t matter

-this boy is all smiles for the rest of the day

Mikey🧡:

-he was on board from the very start

-he’s got cuddles, piggy back rides, and his own art fan/critic

-lots of baking and cooking together

-maybe even drawing if he’s lucky

-only problem?

-you don’t trust him to go out on his own

-even if it’s just to grab a video game from the store or pick up pizza

-“I’m just going down the block!”

-“what if someone sees you?”

-“I’ll be careful!”

-“just let me go with you.”

-“no! I can do this on my own!”

-you’re always offering to give him a ride or tag along just because you don’t want anything to happen to him

-that means, of course, sneaking out

-not for a long time, just enough to get some air

-but that also means you’re staying up late waiting for him to come back

-he’s your buddy!

-you can’t let anything happen to him!

-he didn’t know about it until he found you cashed out on the couch with the lamp still on

-normally you gave him an excuse about why you were still up, such as a late night snack or a movie

-but your phone and the tv were both off

-he decided to think nothing of it until he noticed that you were grumpier in the mornings

-he didn’t want his actions to affect you so he started coming back earlier

-even texting you and telling you he was fine

-you two talked and set up a deal

-he could go out by himself and you wouldn’t stay up late waiting for him as long as you had his location on your phone

-it was easier for both you from then on

#rottmnt mikey #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt raph #rottmnt oneshots #rottmnt leo #rottmnt imagine #rottmnt headcannons #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #rottmnt incorrect quotes #rottmnt movie #nickelodeon #tmnt fanfiction #rise of tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt headcanons

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

howard stern

I'M BACK BESTIES!!!!! i'm not totally back to my normal writing, but I finally got through a whole piece! anyways I really liked this and i hope you do too :)

warnings: howard stern being a bitch, talk of weight & body image

word count: 2.1k

"Hello Harry, how are you doing today?"

"I'm well, thank you," Harry answered with a smile. He was on the Howard Stern Show, his first interview since Stevie had been born. He hadn't really wanted to; Howard was kind of a prick. Everyone knew this, but Jeff was convinced this was the right move. He said it would be good for Harry to get back into the swing of things, and no one else was available on short notice. In the end, Harry only agreed because you had pushed him to, reminding him it wouldn't be a very long interview and then he wouldn't have to interact with the abrasive man again for a long time.

"That's good to hear," Howard said. "How have you been these past couple months? Have you been getting anything done?"

"Not much that's music related, honestly," Harry laughed. "I've been busy with family things."

"Yeah, you've kind of been hiding away from the world for a while here, what's that about?"

"Well, as I'm sure you already know, my wonderful wife had a baby recently, so I've been pretty busy... just navigating the world of fatherhood." A smile crept onto his face at the mention of Stevie.

"That's a lot, isn't it? Babies are awful at that age," Howard chuckled.

"Uh- I wouldn't say awful," Harry's smile dropped a little and he sighed internally. He already knew how the rest of this interview would go: thinly veiled insults, questions that were way too personal, and having to pretend he didn't want to get up and walk out of the room. But he knew that wouldn't be a very good look for him, so he gritted his teeth and tried to think of happy things. Specifically, the fact that he would get to go home to his wife and baby in less than two hours. "She's a very sweet baby, we're completely in love with her."

"Yeah, sometimes they're cute, but mostly they just cry and wake you up in the night, don't they?" Howard asked smugly, as if he knew Harry's baby better than Harry did.

"Well, of course she wakes up in the night sometimes. She's hungry, can't blame her for wanting food, can I?" Harry asked, trying to speak lightly and with a smile, but he could feel his patience slipping. He was ready to go home and he was not in the mood to pretend to be happy when this man was clearly insulting his child.

"Sure, I just wish babies could be a bit less annoying when they want something."

Harry nodded, plastering a smile that hopefully looked real on his face.

"So, besides the annoying baby, how's the family? Everybody healthy over there?"

Harry nodded. "Everybody's happy and healthy. A little sleep deprived, of course, but we're managing well, i think. And by we, I mean Y/N. She's truly... just amazing. I have no idea how she does it- she's the one keeping everything together. There's no way I could do any of this without her."

"Yeah, she seems pretty great! I remember though, at first we were all a little uncertain about her. She's not exactly like the other women you have a history with, is she?"

"She's-" Harry started talking, but Howard cut him off.

"I just mean, we were used to seeing you with models and actresses and the like, so it was a bit of a shock to see you with one of us commoners, you know?"

Harry huffed a small laugh, still trying to sound polite. "When you love someone, that's all that matters."

"Right, of course, but don't you get bored sometimes? You stopped going out so much when you got with her, almost like she was keeping you captive or something," He laughed.

"Are you asking me if my wife forced me to stop hanging out with my friends?" Harry squinted at the man.

"No, of course not, but..." He leaned closer with a malicious gleam in his eye, like he was about to hear some big secret. "Did she?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "She did not."

"Okay, okay, if you say so," Howard put his hands up, but then he leaned in again and spoke in an exaggerated whisper. "Blink twice if you need help."

Harry played it off with a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He's good," Howard laughed loudly. "Anyways, let's move on. Since you two are supposedly so happy-" He paused again, as if he expected Harry to cut it and give some dramatic confession about how terrible his relationship was behind closed doors. Harry only raised his eyebrows, signaling him to continue talking. "Tell us about that. When did you two get married again?"

"Almost 2 years ago," Harry said with a smile. "Our anniversary is coming up, actually, it's in 3 weeks."

"Oh wow, you guys moved fast with the whole kid thing, huh?"

Harry nodded. "We both knew we wanted kids and were ready to have them, so... yeah."

"Yeah, no point wasting time, right? How was Y/N after having the baby- Stevie, right?"

"Yeah, her name is Stevie," Harry smiled. "She was good. Again, she's amazing for going through that. She's- i'm just so lucky to have her."

"Did she bounce back right away?"

"I'm sorry?" Harry's brow furrowed.

"You know, did she get her figure back fast? I know that's a big issue for some women," He laughed again.

"Are you-" All traces of Harry's smile were gone now.

"I just mean, I hope she's working to get rid of the baby weight," Howard said casually, as if his words weren't extremely rude. "Just to make sure she can fit into her old clothes!"

Harry cleared his throat. He knew he had to speak very carefully, since this was something you had been very self conscious about. "Well, the two of us are concerned with the new life she brought into the world, not some old clothes, but she looks as beautiful as ever. The amount of pressure women face to live up to certain standards is disgusting to me, and it's especially bad for new mothers. My wife just went through an incredible process, she grew an entire human being in 9 months, then went through labor and the delivery, and she's being told to worry about her figure? That's wrong."

"Right, right, of course," Howard smiled, but Harry could tell he was annoyed at how he couldn't be tricked into speaking badly about his wife.

"I'm really over the whole thing, honestly," Harry said. "And I'm not even the one going through it."

Howard laughed nervously, seeming to finally take the hint that Harry was uncomfortable and annoyed with the topic. "Let's talk about your latest movie, why don't we?"

Harry was closed off through the rest of the interview; anyone could see that. He laughed less, his arms stayed crossed, and his answers were short. He was professional, but it went no farther than that. There was no more playful joking or easy conversation, just Harry trying to get through the interview as fast as he could. When it finally came to a close after his final song, Harry couldn't pack up fast enough. He made sure to say a polite thanks and goodbye before he hurried out to his car.

He sighed deeply before picking up his phone to call you.

"Hi baby!" your happy voice came from the other end. That was good, he assumed that meant you hadn't listened to the interview yet.

"Hi love," he smiled, his mood already improving just from hearing your voice. "Did you listen to the interview?"

"I have been- I couldn't right at the beginning, Stevie was crying, but I caught the end. Why?"

"Why was she crying?" Harry ignored your question, instantly worrying about his baby.

"Sometimes babies cry for no reason, Harry. She's okay, I promise. Anyways, what's up with the interview?"

Harry sighed. "Just the normal for a Howard Stern interview- he asked some very personal and rude questions. Just prepare for that."

"What else is new?" You laughed. "Are you coming right home?"

"Yeah, unless you need anything?"

"Nope, I think I'm good. See you soon!"

"Love you, bye," Harry said, ending the call and starting the car to begin the drive home.

-----

"I'm home," Harry called, removing his coat as he walked in the door.

"We're in here," you responded, not moving from your spot on the couch where you were nursing Stevie.

Harry walked in, a small smile on his face as he looked at the two of you.

"Hi," He sighed, plopping down on the couch next to you.

"That bad, huh?" You asked, taking in his dejected tone.

He hummed in response, leaning his head on your shoulder. "Those interviews are... always something."

"Yeah, I only caught the end, but you sounded pretty upset. What did he say?"

"He just..." Harry shook his head. "I don't think you should listen to it."

You turned your head to look at him. "Why not?"

"He's just very rude and pushy, as always."

"Yeah, i figured, but I wanted to hear your songs," you argued with a small frown. "Did he say something really bad, or...?"

"He just makes some very impolite comments about you and our family."

"Oh," You nodded lightly. "I think I'll be okay, baby. I appreciate you trying to protect my feelings, but I'm used to it at this point, and I really couldn't care less about his opinion of me."

"Alright," he sighed. "If you're sure." He pulled out his phone, checking his email and going through some messages while you started the interview from the beginning. You could hear him grumbling under his breath and huffing every time Howard said something rude, but you ignored it, just laying a hand on his leg to calm him down.

By the time it was over, Harry was clearly not too happy. "I can't believe I went back on that show," he shook his head. "I'm never doing that again. I'm so sorry about what he said about you, I honestly should have just left-"

"It's okay," you cut him off with a smile. "Also, it was kind of hot to hear you get mad at him."

"Yeah?" He smiled back. "I thought I was very tame, actually. I wanted to say some other things, but I figured that wouldn't be a very good look for me."

"Right, but the way you attacked him but stayed professional... very hot," you laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," He smiled, turning his head to kiss your cheek in return. "Is she done? I really need to hold her after the day I've had," He sighed dramatically, throwing his head back.

"I'm sure," you laughed, handing Stevie over to him and pulling your shirt back into place. "She's all yours."

"Hi baby," he cooed, holding her close to his chest. "I missed you so much."

Stevie yawned in response, cuddling into him.

"Oh, you missed me too?" He grinned. "See that? She missed me."

"She did," You agreed. "She was looking around when she heard your voice on the interview, she wanted to know where you were."

"I'm sorry," he pouted down at her. "I'll never go away again, and I'll never let the bad man be mean to you again."

"I don't think she's too upset about it, Harry," you laughed. "She is only 3 months old. She didn't exactly understand anything that went on."

"Excuse me," he said, looking very offended. "She may only be 3 months old, but she's very smart."

"Right, she's a genius baby, how could I forget?"

"I don't know," Harry shook his head at Stevie. "How could she forget how smart you are, hmm?"

Stevie yawned again, stretching her arms above her head.

"She's ready to take a nap," you said.

"Can I just hold her? I know it's not a good habit, to let her be held to sleep, but I don't want to put her down yet," Harry said, looking up with such pleading eyes, you couldn't possibly say no. Not like you would have said no anyways, but he didn't need to know that.

"Of course you can," you stood up, kissing his forehead before you turned away. "I'm gonna do the dishes, then we can watch something if you want."

"No, let me do those," he immediately protested.

"Harry, it's okay, I haven't done anything around the house since she was born-"

"And I'm not about to let you start now," he cut you off. "Come back here, please? Let's start that new show we were looking at the other night."

"Fine, but later I'm going to help you with the dishes."

"Fine," he smiled, agreeing with your compromise, even though you both knew he would argue later. "Now come back here."

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harrystylesxyou #harry styles x you fanfiction #harrystylesxreader #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles/you fanfiction #dad!harry #stevie #stevie fics

[razorblade180]

RWBY stuff

Weiss:Guys are so weird.

Jaune:Explain.

Weiss:Like….you all can forget the age of your own family members but remember your first crushes favorite candy.

Yang:Facts!

Jaune:Hehe, oh Roxanne and her pop rocks.

Weiss:See!?

Jaune:Listen, it’s hard to explain. Somethings stick with you.

Sun:He’s right. Jessie and her lolipops

Neptune:Rebecca and her Babe Ruth.

Ren:Sherry and her apple tarts.

Nora:…..

Nora:Who the fuck is Sherry? I’ve known you forever! How am I not the first crush!?

Ren:Unfortunately for you, I knew Sherry at age four. She liked it whenever-

Girls:…..

Ren:You just don’t understand! It’s special okay!?

Jaune:*hugging ren* Shhhh they don’t understand.

Neptune:Weiss, I wouldn’t dance with you because if you would’ve laughed at me then I’d randomly remember it years later and want to die.

Weiss:Don’t be dramatic. My opinion isn’t that important.

Everyone:Oh hush, you’d ruin lives.

Weiss:Hey!? I thought some of you were in my side.

Ruby:Cringe and regret assaults all genders, and you use it without mercy.

Sun:Girs aren’t normal either. You hate each other in silence and will even laugh with one another! Just fight!

Yang:I fight them.

Guys:And that’s what makes you so lovely.

Yang:*smiles* Validation.

Blake:You all are ridiculous. Though…the boys have a few points.

Weiss:Traitor!

Blake:Weiss I’ve seen you spend hours on your dew when you could brush it for ten minutes and be still be one of the prettiest people around.

Yang:It’s very aggravating.

Pyrrha:I think boys can be rather dense.

Jaune:What makes you think that.

Pyrrha:Well….ummm….

Nora:Hehe, maybe girls have trouble being straightforward sometimes.

Pyrrha:Nora….

Nora:I’ll shut up. Please be nice to me. We’re on the same side.

Ruby:Scary Pyrrha is scary.

Yang:No kidding.

Weiss:I just don’t understand why some guys can be so terrible at romance.

Blake:Honestly same.

Yang:Terrible.

Nora:Agreed.

Pyrrha:I don’t wanna be mean.

Ruby:Anxiety.

Sun:One, Ruby you’re sweet. Never change. Two, you really wanna know the dark secret?

Girls:Yes!

Sun:*grabs Jaune* You have the boys who never knew how to socialize so they always came across weird when all they had to do was speak instead of overthink.

Jaune:Don’t make it sound easy!

Sun:*grabs Neptune* You got “my heart was broken once so I’ll never open my heart again.”

Neptune:C’mon man…

Sun:*looks at Ren*….

Ren:…

Sun:I won’t out you like that man.

Ren:*nods*

Nora:Why does he get a pass?

Sun:Out Pyrrha.

Nora:Never- ohh it’s a code thing. Understandable.

Ruby:What’s your problem?

Sun:Me? That’s easy. I’m not bad at romance.

Neptune:He’s telling the truth.

Weiss:Then why are you single?

Sun:I guess nobody likes me. Oh well.

……

Everyone:*hugs Sun*

Sun:What’s happening?

Ruby:Calming your anxiety?

Sun:….

Sun:I don’t like this conversation anymore.

#rwby #jnpr #sun wukong #neptune vasilias #ruby rose #jaune arc #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #renora #blake belladonna #nora valkyrie #lie ren #pyrrah nikos #rwby arkos

[christ0pher-evans]

Healed Heart

Final Part of the Shattered Heart Mini-Series

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: 18+ Minor Smut / Angst / Cheating / Arguing / Mentions of Divorce / Swearing Word Count: 2.9k A/N: So here is the final part of my mini-series. I honestly cannot thank you so much for the support on this, it means a lot to me and I love you guys for it!!! Please let me know what you think. I hope you’re happy with the ending because it took me a really long time to decide how I could finish off this story with justice. Thank you again, truly😘 Please reblog and like🖤

Part One: Shattered Heart Part Two: Troubled Heart Part Three: Bewildered Heart

 ♡

Three tortuous days had passed since you had last seen or spoke to Chris, three days since you kicked him out your home. You’d had nightmares about being in a loveless and hateful marriage, steamy dreams about your recent rendezvous and nights where you just felt so alone that you had cried yourself to sleep. It was safe to say that the past three days had been exhausting. 

Although fucking Chris in the kitchen during a harrowing argument probably wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done, it led to some realisations about how you wanted to proceed with your marriage. You definitely didn’t regret anything you said, or did with Chris that day and that was what you found important amongst the disaster. Not regretting your decisions meant that you knew you wanted to move forward in your marriage, and not look backwards; something you would consider a big first step in repairing your marriage. You knew you couldn’t forget what happened and would have to address it before moving forward but you knew you had the desire to push through the hard times. 

You’d called Chris that morning and told him that you wanted him to come home, not that he could or should but that you wanted him at home with you. Emotionally, it felt like the right decision, because at the end of the day he was your husband and you missed him. Practically, it is his home as well and it was the only place you could both be to sort out your marriage with privacy. You didn’t want to be surrounded by the media or by prying eyes. Hell, you didn’t even want the opinion of family or friends, this was between you and Chris only. 

As you tidied up the house a bit and thought about the moment Chris would walk through the door, it was clear to you that no matter how angry or hurt you were, Chris was your endgame. You had played all the variables over and over in your head loads of times, societal rights and wrongs about cheating when you realised, fuck society. You would never leave your husband over this, and that was okay. This was your story and who cared what anyone else thought, because you didn’t want to give up. You owe it to yourself, to your marriage, to try and fix everything before throwing it away. 

For the first few days, Chris slept in the spare room and you danced around each other, trying to find your new normal whilst you navigated the mess that was your marriage. 

Once the first week passed, Chris continued to sleep in the spare room and you finally plucked up the courage to address the problem that had been plaguing your marriage for weeks, months if you consider back to when the problem initially started. 

The day you decided to bring it up, you had finished work early and Chris was already at home when you arrived back around 3pm. 

Walking through the house, you finally found Chris in the home office. 

“I thought you were filming today?” Chris looked up at the sound of your voice. 

“Oh hi sweetheart. I didn’t hear you come in? Um, yeah I was but, uh.. she turned up to re-film some scenes so I came home.” 

You winced at the thought of her and Chris together but was quickly calmed by the effort Chris had made to avoid her. 

Clearing your throat, you found the courage to reply. 

“Oh, er, did you not have to keep filming?” Leaning against the door frame, you settled in for a longer conversation. 

“It wasn’t anything that I can’t just do another day when she isn’t there. I’ve got some scripts to read over anyway so it’s fine.” 

You sighed. This seemed like an appropriate time to bring up the unspoken topic so you could start moving forward but your anxiety felt crippling in that very moment, you didn’t know if you could face it. 

“Sweetheart..” Chris whispered, “Y/N, sit down, please..” 

You moved to sit down on the small sofa by the window, tucking your feet up and under yourself. Chris moved to join you, sitting fairly close but not touching you as you hadn’t crossed that boundary since he came home. 

“Look baby, I’ve been home a week now and we’ve just walked around this house like we are two strangers. I need you to talk to me, tell me what you’re thinking because you’re the one that told me you wanted me to come home?”

You looked up from your lap and straight into Chris’s eyes, “You do feel like a stranger to me.”

You heard his voice hitch in his throat, clearly caught off guard by your blunt answer. 

“I’m still me, sweetheart. I’m the same person you met seven years ago and I’m the same person you married four years ago. Please don’t think I’ve changed.” 

A lone tear falls straight from your eye, as you whimper, “I miss him.” 

It takes Chris no longer than a second to pull you into his lap, all boundaries obliterated, as he hugs you like his life depends on it. As you cry all you can hear is Chris repeatedly whispering, ‘I’m here. I’m still me. I love you.’ 

You shudder at the softened and sweet contact, something you hadn’t felt for weeks but you embraced it, leaning further into Chris’s chest for comfort. 

Once you had basked in the feeling for a bit longer, shutting the world and your problems out, you knew you had to move away. It would have been unfair to give Chris mixed signals as your marriage was still clearly on the rocks. 

Sitting back up on the sofa, you composed yourself. 

“I know you are still you Chris, but you’ve changed to me now. This you..”, you sigh before continuing, “..you’re tainted and untrustworthy, you’re the man that cheated on me, you’re not my husband. I need to get to know you again, and I need to learn to love our marriage again, and learn to trust you again. It’s going to take time.” 

“B-but you want to try?”

“Of course I want to try. Endgame right? That hasn’t changed for me but other things have to change, we cannot continue like this otherwise if something else were to happen, I don’t think we would survive it.” 

“I am infinitely yours sweetheart. Forever.” You watch Chris smile sweetly. 

Feeling slightly more confident and feeling like Chris has really been listening to you, you knew it was time to talk about her. 

“Okay, well whilst we are here, I think we should talk about her. It’s the biggest hurdle for me, and I can’t move past it. I just can’t deal with you seeing her right now, not whilst I’m learning to trust you again. I’ll never trust her so I need to 100% be able to trust you again.” 

Grabbing hold of your hand, Chris nods in understanding.

“That is completely fine sweetheart. For now, how about I just work my schedule around when she isn’t there and wait until you are comfortable before I finish filming my scenes with her? I don’t care if it postpones the film, or they replace me, you are more important to me than any film and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you!” 

You nod feebly, shocked and relieved with the instant commitment Chris was happy to make to save your marriage and earn your trust back. 

An awkward silence falls over the room at the monumental conversation you just had. Needing a moment to yourself, you decide to make a quick exit. 

‘Um, I think I’ll go and grab a shower before dinner.” Quickly leaving, you rush to your ensuite. 

The shower provided a solace to digest what just happened, a few tears falling as you feel overwhelmed. But you left the bathroom with a renewed sense of hope. 

It was another week of tough conversations and private marriage counselling before you felt you had reached another milestone in fixing your marriage. 

You were in the ensuite of your bedroom when Chris came in to say goodnight. He was merely wearing a pair of pyjamas bottoms that amusingly you were wearing the matching top of. 

He chuckled as he leant against the wall, “I was looking for that top.” 

You giggled lightly and blushed, using all your self control to not drool over seeing Chris topless. Unfortunately, you had never been good at hiding any of your emotions from Chris and you saw him smirk slightly at your flustered state. 

“Okay, well, I just came to say goodnight, so uh- night I guess..” 

You mumbled a goodnight back as Chris turned to walk out the room. A rush of affection from the interaction washed over you causing you to shout back towards Chris to catch his attention. 

“Um, stay..” 

You saw the startled look on his face as the words left your lips. 

“Stay with me tonight..”, you repeated as if you were confirming your own words. 

“Yeah, course I’ll stay, if that’s what you want?”, he shuffled back towards you. 

“It is what I want.” 

You smiled at him sweetly before you brushed past him and moved towards the bed, leaving him a bit stunned in the bathroom. 

Weeks passed with no problems. You and Chris had gone back to sleeping in the same bed and you often woke up snuggled together. At first, you’d wake and quickly move away from him however, slowly, you became comfortable with it and you were finally starting to feel at peace in his arms. 

You had woken up early this specific Monday morning as it was Chris’s first day back filming with her. You felt sick to the stomach at the thought of him seeing her again and had slept terribly. You knew this day would come and thought you would be, at least slightly prepared, but as the day dawned, you were scared. Nerves caged around your heart as your mind could only replay the moment Chris told you that he had kissed another woman.

Chris had to go back to work, you understood that. He had already put it off for a while and sacrificed enough of his job to try and reconcile your marriage. You almost felt obliged to let him go back to work, who were you to hold your husband back from his job? 

You were sitting in the kitchen, slowly nursing a very strong coffee when Chris came down, ready for his day. You glanced up at him briefly, barely acknowledging his words to you. 

“Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay? You’re up really early?” 

Glancing at the clock reading 7:30am, you shrugged and mumbled, “Woke up at 5:30am.”

You stared in the abyss, thoughts whirring through your mind. Thinking about being frightened to death about the thought that your marriage wasn’t even halfway back to where it should be. Knowing that Chris would see her today, spend all his time with her whilst you were waiting back at home for him. It felt like some sick and twisted de ja vu. 

It had been almost two months since you’d last been with Chris in any form of intimacy, almost four months since you were truly a happily married couple and now he was going to see her again, were you really debating that history would repeat itself? 

“Baby, will you talk to me? I can see something is on your mind”, Chris gently rests his hand over yours, bringing you out your nightmarish daydream. 

Looking up at Chris, taking in all his handsome features, you thought, how could anyone ever resist him. The thought panicked you even more.  

Learning from previous mistakes, you knew it was best to communicate to him how you were feeling. 

“I’m scared you’re going to see her again today and history could just repeat itself. Nothing is fixed yet Chris, and it feels like we are already going backwards.”

Just when you thought that being honest and communicating with Chris was the best option, it backfired in your face. Chris scoffed, a look of disgust on his face. 

“Huh, you’re not kidding?” Watching him run his hand through his hair, he turns away and slams his coffee mug down on the side. You jump at the aggressive action. 

“You really think I’d do that again? You really think that little of me? Have you not seen all the work I’ve put into this fucking marriage the past couple of months?”, he shrugs and turns back to you, “What else do you want from me Y/N?” 

You wince at his spiteful words. 

“I know you’ve put a lot into this marriage Chris, so have I! We’ve been doing really well, but can you really blame me for having doubts on your first day back with her? I thought you’d understand!” 

“No, I don’t blame you, but I thought you’d trust me more that this by now.” 

You chew on your lip nervously as you both stare at one another, terrified of the silence. 

“I’ve got to go to work Y/N, see you later.” You hear Chris huff before he walks straight out the house, leaving you sitting dumbfounded and anxious at your kitchen table. 

Trying to do any work from home was useless as you just felt panicked and couldn’t stop thinking about how Chris’s day was going. You hadn’t heard from him since this morning at it was now 6pm. 

After developing a painful stress headache, you decide to lay down in bed. Believing you can block the world out and briefly pretend that nothing is wrong in your marriage, you shut your eyes momentarily. 

FLASHBACK. 

Waking up so softly, you barely blink your eyes open as you feel tender kisses dancing their way up your back, following the line of your spine. You flutter your eyes open carefully, aware of the vibrant sunlight gracing your face as you try to focus your eyes, gradually making out the floor length curtains gently blowing through the breeze from your open balcony doors. You can hear the soft crashes of the waves and can see the soft, baby blue sky from your place on the bed as you stretch out all your limbs from an energetic night. You let yourself surrender to the feeling of Chris’s lips grazing against your bare body.

As he gradually makes his way up to your neck and cheek, you hum in utter happiness and contentment as he places one final kiss on your cheek as he leans over your body. You can feel every line and shape of his naked form as it presses up against you. You think about how you’ve never felt so happy and loved in this moment, knowing that this is exactly how you’ll get to feel for the rest of your life. 

“Good morning Mrs. Evans”, Chris roughly whispers, his voice hoarse from minimal sleep. He nibbles on your ear teasingly before grinding his core over your ass. You whimper at the feeling his movements evoke from you. 

“Mhm, I like how that sounds”, you mumble before smiling happily. The use of that name giving you butterflies. The one that now belongs to you, the name that now proves you belong to each other forever.

END OF FLASHBACK.

You wake with a start as you hear the front door slam slightly. You sit up too quickly, as you feel light-headed and your vision blurs slightly. You breath deeply, gaining your bearings before looking at the bedside clock. 7:30pm; you had slept right through dinner. 

Not that it mattered because you would have been eating alone anyway, you thought. 

Your body adjusts to being awake, your stomach fluttering slightly at the memories and feelings that the dream provoked. Momentarily caught in a fever dream. 

Back in reality, you brain registers that there was a slam at the door. Quickly, you get up and rush downstairs to see what is happening. 

As you halt at the bottom of the stairs and look out into the open plan room, you see Chris standing by the breakfast bar. The very same breakfast bar that holds so many recent heartbreaking conversations. But this time, it doesn’t bring you sadness. 

There Chris stands, holding takeout food in one hand and in the other, your favourite donuts. Behind him, on the wall, hangs the framed photo from your wedding day. Your matching smiles beaming on both your faces, almost as if they are lighting up the room.

You look back at him, standing here in your house. Bringing home dinner to you. Coming home to you. 

Your breath catches in your throat, “It’s you Chris, it’s always going to be you.”

You watch him place down the food on the side, before he begins striding towards you. Stuck in your spot, you can’t do anything but smile at your husband as he reaches you. 

“Forever yours”, you whisper before Chris’s lips crash onto yours for the first time in months. Your lips work together as your hands grip as his waist and his grasp your neck and face so you can’t move away. So you can only feel Chris, so you can truly remember the raw intimacy and passion between you. 

As your lips melt together, it feels as monumental as the moment he kissed you as you became his wife. It feels as if your story is beginning again; with a fresh start and a new-found hope for your marriage. 

 ♡

Forever Tags: @itsscottiesstark @patzammit @partypoison00 @cynic-spirit @n3ssm0nique @sohoseb @madbaddic7ed @moonlacebeam @ilovetheeagles  @beautifulrose0809 @lovelyladymayyy @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mysticapples17 @whxre4cevans @firoozehmoon @spookyparadisesheep @mytbel0st @thatonelatina @snowy992 [Please drop me a message if you’d like to become part of the taglist for this series or any of my work]

#shattered heart mini series #healed heart #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans series #chris evans mini series #chris evans angst #chris evans x you #chris evans smut #rpf

[songbirdstyles]

when the levee breaks

summary: you’re a waitress and harry is being stood up.

warnings: brief smut, angst, fluff, love at first sight <3 kind of

song inspo.: when the levee breaks - led zeppelin

word count: 9.5k

There’s always a particular vibe you get from people going on first dates.

It’s an easy one to notice and you and your coworkers love pointing it out - it’s an air of hope and romance, people arriving dressed their very best yet still holding some sort of awkwardness. It’s sweet, actually, and quite adorable and they’re always the nicest to you, needing to impress their date and make sure they know that they’re respectful. It’s the same reason they leave such a hefty tip - likely wanting to show they’re, at the very least, wealthy enough to tip 20% on a $100 tab and not have it hurt their pockets, or to prove that they respect waitresses enough to help you pay your rent. They’re always the tables you’re desperate to serve, not only for the tip they leave you but because you love getting a clue as to how the date goes, and most times it’s good. Once, you’d heard the guy’s date inquire about kids before their meals came, and they’d left barely minutes after paying their bill. Another time, a couple had arrived at 6 and hadn’t left until 11 on a Thursday night - nearly two hours after closing, and you’d nearly had to shoo them out the door when they weren’t going fast enough.

It varies often, but still - first date couples are your favourite, and when you see him walk up to the host stand, you know he’s another one.

The uncomfortableness is what tips you off, fiddling with one of the numerous rings on his finger as he leans back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting behind an elderly couple hoping to grab a table outdoors for some drinks. He’s dressed well, tucking a loose curl behind his ear and rolling up his sleeves and when he makes it up he’s confirming a reservation f’two, under th’name Harry Styles, please. And the girl at the host stand - the youngest host your boss has hired, you reckon, though you’d need to fact check it to be sure - picks up her pen and crosses his name out in the reservation book, a thick line running through his information and phone number before she’s grabbing a stack of menus (specials, wine, beer, and general, respectively) and telling him to follow me this way, sir as she leads him outside.

Well, you don’t see exactly where Brianna takes him before you remember the four waters that table 306 had asked for, and it’s not like you to get distracted like that by a customer - you’ve been a waitress for nearly three years since starting college and yet, no patron has ever caught your eye like Mr. Harry Styles. It’s a damn paradox, really - you only see attractive guys like him when they’re on dates and, by that point, they’re spoken for. There’s no room for you to mosey in and you wouldn’t do that to another girl, anyway, but still. You suppose it doesn’t matter (he looks wealthy enough to leave a good tip with or without a date, truthfully) but it still has you sighing as you grab four glasses, scooping ice into them and beginning to fill them with water.

Distraction is a bad look on a waitress, your manager had told you the last time you’d gotten distracted by a pretty girl and nearly dropped the plate of pasta you were holding. It makes your smile seem forced. And that was the first month you’d started working, before you’d realized that most customers treated the staff like objects to use to make themselves look or feel better - you’d seldom had to use her advice since then. But there’s a first - or second - time for everything, isn’t there? And he is your second time.

 --

 After you’ve delivered your waters, though, you’re made uncomfortably aware of the fact that Brianna had, indeed, seated Harry in your section. And it isn’t a bad thing, per se, except he is the most attractive man you’ve ever met and you can only imagine what his date is going to look like when they show up - probably dressed to the nines like he is, just a tad too fancy for an establishment like this and you’re sure you’ll feel insecure in your work-issued shirt and jeans but you suppose there’s nothing to do about it.

You try not to make it too obvious as you fix your hair, tying your ponytail higher up onto your head because it had been slipping down and you’re really not a huge fan of low ponytails. Normally you don’t mind but - sometimes the circumstances change. 

He’s at table 305, leaning over his phone, fingers drumming against the table when you walk over to him, clutching two coasters in your hands and he looks up at you with a smile as you approach. And it’s easy - giving the same introductory speech you’ve given thousands of times before, telling him your name and how I’m going to be taking care of you tonight. “Can I get you started with something to drink?” you question, eyes flickering inconspicuously to the empty seat across from him. He’d pulled it out slightly, angling it out towards the sidewalk in clear anticipation of when his date enters so she can gracefully sit down without having to make a fuss about pulling the chair out - so he’s a gentleman, and it only worsens your moral dilemma at the situation. 

“I’ll jus’ have a water, f’now,” he responds, smiling up at you and you nod, reaching down to rest one coaster in front of him and the other in front of the other seat. “M’waiting f’someone - then I’ll get somethin’ else.”

“Sounds good,” you tell him, giving him a smile as if you had no idea he was waiting for someone when, in fact, you’d known the second he walked through the doors. Quickly your eyes dart up and down the sidewalk, checking to see if anyone’s walking with their sights set on your restaurant but there’s nobody - perhaps she’s late, or he’s early, but it’s not your place to speculate anyway. “I’ll be right out with that.”

And so you make your way back inside - you have to stop at table 303 because their daughter, so small her legs barely hang off the seat she’s sitting in, has finished her Coke and wants another and you take their dish of risotto balls with you, practically licked clean (in your opinion, they’re the best appetizers on the menu, and you’ve tried just about everything.) 301 got up, leaving nearly half a plate of polpo sitting there and a full untouched bottle of wine and you can recall them specifically declining your request to take their plates earlier, claiming they were still picking at it and clearly they changed their mind - but Brianna’s rushing out to clean everything up before you tell her to, and that’s good of her. She’s new - it’s always good to see the new workers doing well. You’ll tell your manager the next time you see her, you reckon, though you hope it’s not too soon. And then 306 waves you down, seconds away from screaming for you to notice them because the man wants some red pepper flakes to sprinkle onto his pizza and it all stacks up in your mind, but you just smile and nod and turn to rush inside before anyone else can flag you down.

You don’t notice Harry’s eyes on you, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

One Coke and one dish of red pepper flakes later and you’re returning to Harry’s table, resting his drink on his coaster. It’s barely been two minutes since he last requested the water and his initial look of hope and excitement hasn’t faded, even when his eyes flicker down to his phone as though to check for a notification when he thanks you for the water.

Oh, well. Dates are late all the time, and you don’t have time to ponder on it as 304 noisily stacks their plates on top of each other, and you swoop over to grab them before taking them inside. No, it certainly isn’t your place to wonder about the status of his date because you know that you’ve been late to dates too many times than you should’ve, what with classes and work and everything else you have to do in life. You barely have time to date anymore - when you’re not studying so late you can barely keep your eyes open you’re picking up shifts, working your ass off for a paycheck that goes straight to your landlord. You hardly even hang out with your friends anymore and you’re not sure if it’s a healthy sacrifice, giving up your friends to work and study and get far less sleep than the average 22 year old but you don’t quite have a choice, do you?

Maybe his date is in the same situation - you can’t fault her for it. It certainly makes her more relatable to you.

 --

 It’s been fifteen minutes and Harry still sits on his own, nails tapping against his phone screen, turning his head to glance up and down the sidewalk like you had before but there’s no one there to join him. Part of you feels bad as you rest a plate of mozzarella agnolotti in front of the two men at 302 and they dig into it like fucking heathens who haven’t eaten in months, and when you tell them to enjoy they call out thank you with their mouths full, bits of food flying onto the table, and you feel bad for when one of the hostesses has to clean it later.

It’s times like this that you’re thankful to be a waitress and not a host. Those times are few and far between, but they still come.

303 got their entrees and 304 has their check and you don’t have an excuse not to stop back at Harry’s table, even if feeling his eyes on you has your stomach turning and your face heating. Hopefully he can’t notice (and you have gotten fairly skilled at hiding your emotions with a wide smile that’s just about as fake as they come) and your prayers seem to answer themselves when you walk to his table, ducking beneath the umbrella that hangs above the two-top and meeting his eyes.

“You want a refill on that water?” You ask, motioning with a nod down towards his half-empty glass. It’s certainly not low enough to warrant bringing out the water pitcher but you’ll deal with the hassle - going table to table asking if they need refills and all the other shit you have to do because it seems discriminatory when you only offer it to one table. 

He looks up at his glass, tilting his head and screwing up his eyes as though he really needs time to decide whether he needs more water before shaking his head, curls flopping in front of his face as he pulls his glass closer to him. “S’alright.”

“Is your date running late?” And the second the words are out of your mouth you want to smack yourself - you know it’s unprofessional to comment like that especially when it’s that fucking obvious that you’re right. You may as well have asked him if the sky is blue, or if the time really is 6:15. Irrefutable facts are embarrassing to state aloud, especially when it would get you a stern talking to if your manager were to overhear.

But Harry doesn’t seem bothered by it, nor does he seem fazed by your sudden expression like you’d just bit into a lemon. In fact, he takes the comment in stride, resting his palms on the tabletop as he squints up at you - the sun shines behind you and you’re sure it’s in his eyes, and the fact that he took the sunny seat just adds another reason to consider him perfect. “Yeah, she is,” he confesses, twiddling with his rings again, and it’s nearly impossible not to drop your gaze to his fingers and watch him go. “But - y’know - she’s a nurse, an’ all that. Probably just had t’work late an’ forgot t’text. S’alright.”

You’re not sure what to say to that and for a second you stand there in silence as Harry taps his phone, surely checking to see if he’d received a text that hadn’t lit up his phone with the notification but there’s nothing except for the lockscreen - a blurry shot of a black and white cat, face close to the camera and tongue sticking out just so. Instead you clear your throat before saying, “I’ll go grab you some olives.”

“Olives?”

“Yeah - we give everyone assorted olives.” And suddenly, it sounds stupid, like giving your customers olives is something embarrassing when, in fact, it’s customary, but Harry’s looking at you with a certain curiosity, eyes bemused as if you’re entertaining him. “They’re actually quite good. I’m sure you’d like them.”

(In truth, you tried the olives once and had hated them, but you tell your customers that every single thing your restaurant offers is your favourite and the olives are no exception.)

“Oh.” Harry shrugs, then, leaning back in his seat as you duck back out from under his umbrella. “Well, if y’say so, m’sure I’ll like ‘em.”

You smile in agreement and there’s nothing left to add so you head towards the door, wiping your palms on your apron the second you’re inside. You’re sure you’ve had that exact conversation about olives of all things with ten other customers since you’ve worked here but it feels so different with him and it nearly scares you. There’s no reason you should feel so conflicted about a patron on a date who you’ve never met nor seen before but you suppose some things truly are unexplainable.

306 is ready for their check and as you grab a ramekin full of assorted olives you call to ask Brianna to print it out - there’s nobody at the door, anyway, and you need to find an empty dish for the olives, anyway. When you’ve got that and stashed the check in your apron you head back out and Harry’s sitting craning his neck glancing down the sidewalk and you hope, for his sake, that he’s right and she just got caught up at work. (And, for your own very selfish sake, you hope she doesn’t come.)

“I’ve got some olives for you,” you tell him, resting the two ramekins on the table in front of him and he glances down at them with an air of disgust that you most certainly relate to, and your face nearly splits open in a grin. “Well, they’re complimentary, anyway, so if you don’t like them, it’s not too big of a deal.”

“They look divine,” he says, and you know he’s lying but it still makes you smile. “I’ll tell y’how they are.”

“I’ll be waiting,” and that sounds like such a schoolgirl crush response and your face briefly tightens in a cringe before you walk off to 306, pulling their check out and depositing it on their table. None of them even drank their waters that they requested - assholes.

 --

 Holy shit.

You’re really feeling for Harry, now. There’s a new young couple sitting at 301 (certainly not on a first date, you’ll add), holding hands across the table and giggling loudly and they don’t break eye contact even when they place their wine order, and when your eyes flicker over to where Harry’s sitting he’s watching them with an expression that looks just a little like envy. The men at 302 lean over and share a kiss over their pasta and you wish it were socially acceptable to ask every single couple not to fucking look at each other until his date arrives because you can tell it’s killing him - and suddenly, you’re wishing you hadn’t manifested his date not showing up. You’d rather feel the slight tinge of jealousy at watching him woo a girl than feel your stomach turn with every minute that passes without someone taking a seat across from him.

You can practically see the hope leaving his body as a half hour goes by since he’d arrived and he’s still sitting alone, tapping his nails against the condensation that had formed against his glass of water, feet tapping the sidewalk beneath him. The olives sit untouched in their ramekin except for one lonely green out that sits, half eaten, in the empty one you’d given him and after you’ve finished grating parmesan cheese over 301’s calamari and bruschetta, you wrap the cheese back up in its napkin before making your way over to him, ducking beneath the umbrella and sending him a smile that he reciprocates, albeit smaller than it had been before.

“Do you want to put in an appetizer to be here when she arrives?” you ask, pulling your pad and pen out of your apron and watching as he glances down at the menu he clutches in his hands. You know what the answer’s going to be before you’ve even asked the question but it’s unbearable watching him sit doing nothing, and you’re sure he’s hungry. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to eat before a date though you’re not totally positive what kind of guy would - anyway, it’s easy realize he’s yearning for food by the way he’d been sucking on his straw just moments before when you’d been taking 301’s appetizer order, even though all that’s left in his glass are a few measly ice cubes.

“S’fine,” he insists. “I don’t want t’order somethin’ and then have her not like it - y’know?” And he trails his finger along the appetizer section of the menu as if to showcase the amount of options, chest rising and falling in a sigh. You nod, giving him a tight lipped smile as you shut your notepad and slide it and your pen into your apron, smoothing your palms over the front of it again.

“Yeah, I know.”

Then he pushes the olives away from him, ramekins sliding against the tabletop and you grin as you look down at them before glancing back up at him, raising your eyebrows with mock surprise. “I guess you didn’t like the olives, then.”

Harry shakes his head, bringing a hand up to wipe his hair out of his eyes and you almost want to recommend that he put his hair in a ponytail (it seems to get in the way of a lot of stuff for him) but, truthfully, you love seeing his hair down. It looks so soft and luscious and you’re sure it smells spectacular, though you’ll never truly know. “I hated them,” he confesses, and you miss the way his lips turn into a smile as you giggle, sticking the full ramekin into the empty one to make it easier to carry. “D’you seriously like ‘em? They’re horrid.”

You’re supposed to say yes, but you can’t lie to him - not when he’s already having a rough night. “I don’t like them, either,” you agree, scrunching your nose as you look down at the variously coloured olives in your hands. “But, according to my manager, I love everything at this restaurant.”

He laughs at that - a genuine one, too, tossing his head back so his hair falls off his shoulders and you can’t stop yourself from laughing along with him. He’s contagious in every sense of the word and you’ve never met anyone like that - you’re smiling with him and feeling your heart break for him all at the same time and you’re not sure you’ve ever experienced it before. “Well, s’good t’know,” Harry says when he’s stopped laughing, swirling his straw around his glass so the ice cubes clink together. “I’ll take your advice wit’ a grain f’salt, shouldn’t I.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” you insist. “You’re special.” Your tone is teasing and to anyone listening in it’s clearly a joke but you gnaw on your tongue after the words are out anyway - he just smiles down at the table, scratching the surface with his nails.

“M’glad.” And your eyes scan the rest of your tables on instinct - 306 is up and there’s a stack of plates at 303 that you need to bring inside, but if it were up to you, you’d spend the rest of your day ducked into Harry’s umbrella, listening to him speak. But - well - you’re not being paid to talk to a pretty boy, most unfortunately, and you step out from under his covering to check out your other tables when - “Wait!”

You turn back around and Harry’s leaning back, holding his hand over his eyes to look at you and you take a step back over to him, bending down ever so slightly so you can hear him over the shitty music your boss insists on playing too loud to your outdoor guests. “Could I have a coke, please?” he questions, and you nod. “Thanks.”

Your other tables can wait - you scurry back inside, heading to the service station because you’d rather die than make him wait an extra second longer for his coke. Lauren - the other waitress on duty tonight - stands unwrapping a cheesecake to prepare for one of her tables and she looks at you with an arched eyebrow. “Who were you talking to?”

You shrug and you hope it isn’t painfully clear how your heartbeat thumps against your chest like a damn drum. “Just the guy at 305.”

“Oh.” Lauren pauses where she’s mixing the tupperware container of homemade whip cream to place on the cheesecake as you fill your glass with ice. “What’s his deal?”

“I think he’s being stood up,” you tell her.

 --

 Your suspicion is confirmed the next time you drop by Harry’s table, when he’s chugged his entire Coke and the rest of his water and he simply sits there, scrolling on his phone, and it’s like you can see how his battery has drained.

“Hey,” you call, voice soft as though you’re talking to a child, but you need to assess how upset he is about the situation before speaking in any other manner. You’d made the mistake before, started chatting too cheerfully to a lady being stood up and she’d shouted at you, called you a wench and a bastard and all other sorts of names you couldn’t recall before storming out, leaving a $20 for her three glasses of wine.

It’s always better to be safe than sorry.

“Has she texted you?” you ask, motioning down towards his phone. It’s certainly not allowed to speak to customers in such a casual manner about things other than the menu and whether they’d like to split the check but nobody’s around to reprimand you for bending the rules a bit - why not? 

He shakes his head - it’s what you’d expected but your heart still aches for him and you wish you could reach out, perhaps give him a hug if he’d want it or listen to him rant about the situation. Anything to make him feel better. “S’okay,” he insists, and to his defense he can play the part well. Doesn’t seem entirely too torn up about it and he’s looking at you like you’re a friend rather than his waitress and it makes you feel comfortable. “But - f’you don’t mind - can I order an appetizer now?” You smile, already fishing for your notepad and your pen (a sparkly black one, just for the sake of being fun.) You’re glad he’s getting something and if his date happens to show up, she’d ought to eat whatever he chooses simply as an apology for being over a goddamn hour late. “Sure.”

“What’s your favorite?”

The question takes you by surprise but you regain composure quickly, feeling your face and neck heat up because Harry’s staring at you as though you’re some sort of God - like you hold the answer to the meaning of life instead of the best thing on the menu and it makes you feel good. Appreciated. “I love the risotto balls,” you admit, shifting to stand next to him so you can trace your finger along the menu in his hands, pointing to the very first appetizer listed on the page. “And the shrimp and broccoli rabe is delicious.”

“I hope you’re not lying t’me.”

“I told you,” you begin, meeting his small smile with a wider one of your own and it achieves its desired effect - his spreads wider, and you wonder if he thinks that you’re as contagious as you consider him to be. “I’ll never lie to you.”

“And why’s that?”

He’s full of questions. “Because you’re a nice customer.” It’s sort of the truth, though you think you’d scare him away if you told him the full entire truth is that he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve laid eyes on in your life. “When some customers are assholes, I tell them to get the vongole - it’s horrible.”

He raises his eyebrows at that with another grin, resting his menu down on the table and gazing up at you with his full attention. “Well, I trust you. I’ll get the risotto balls, in tha’ case. An’ then - whenever she gets here, I’ll get something else.”

You murmur sounds good and you don’t have to write it down in your notepad to remember it. You’d nearly gotten carried away with the conversation, nearly forgotten that he’s being fucking stood up and probably doesn’t want you to flirt with him like an idiot because you’re sure acting like one. God, no other waitresses act like this with their customers and you really, truly never have before - yet it’s something about him. You can’t fucking help yourself.

You take his Coke to refill it - he doesn’t ask and you won’t charge him for it. He simply deserves it, and you think that’s reason enough to bring the glass back inside, fill it to the top with soda and deliver it back on top of his coaster the next time you go outside to make your rounds. Harry’s appreciative, naturally, and has no reason to question why you gave him another drink to begin with. For all he knows, your restaurant has free refills, and you’ll let him think that. There’s no reason to make him pay for another drink - he’s having a bad enough day already - even though, when you’d glanced down at the watch adorning his wrist as you’d given him his drink and seen that it’s Gucci. 

No amount of money can buy a first date, you suppose, and you hate yourself for thinking it. You’d give him a first date. A million, in fact. And it’ll never happen but you can certainly dream, and you hope it doesn’t show in your eyes as the men at 302 order a panna cotta and cheesecake for dessert - 301 is digging into their pizza, looking so hopelessly in love with each other, and you catch Harry looking at them again.

The risotto balls are ready for him when you’ve delivered the desserts to 302, and you grab the plate and a block of parmesan and head right out to him. His eyes are on you the moment you step out the door, gaze looking ravenous and he’s most certainly just excited for his appetizer but you still let his watchful eye make your stomach turn.

No parmesan cheese for him - well, that’s fine. You tuck the block under your arm and tell him to enjoy, and he tells you he most certainly will before digging in and it only confirms your suspicion that he was fucking starving. In fact, by the time you’ve finished chatting to 304 about how delicious their gamberetti pizza was, one of the balls on the plate is gone and he’s staring at the second one like a man dying of hunger, but he doesn’t touch it. Surely waiting for his date to arrive to feast on it while he can talk about how nervous he was that she wasn’t going to show up that he was even entertaining the flirtatious waitress.

Gentleman.

 --

 The next twenty minutes are a blur - 304 is up and two tables in Lauren’s section are, too, and you don’t have much else to do so you help Brianna clear and wipe and set them all. By the time you’ve finished and returned the hostess’s grateful smile 302 wants more drinks and a chocolate mousse to split, and you pick up their empty panna cotta and cheesecake dishes and rush them back inside. 301 decides they want their check and they look like they’ve gotten into some sort or argument and you’re almost glad - though you’re sure they’ll be too angry to leave a good tip, you’ll take it if it means it may make Harry feel a bit better about being alone.

It’s 8:15 PM the next time you risk a glance at your phone. Only forty five minutes until you close and there haven’t been any new table sat for the better half of twenty minutes and you pray it stays that way - or, at the very least, they go to Lauren’s section instead of yours. Brianna is clearing 301 (they got up and left in a hurry and, as you’d expected, your tip is a few measly dollars) and your other tables have no need for your assistance yet so you make a beeline to Harry’s table the second you get outside and he’s watching you, sad smile toying at the corner of his lips.

“How were the risotto balls?” you inquire, drumming your fingers against his table. It’s a silly question because anyone with eyes can see how he’d gobbled half of the appetizer up, the other still untouched in their bowl of sauce, ricotta lazily tossed on top of it. You’re sure it’s cold now but you don’t quite mind them when they’re chilly - may even taste better than having them sizzling hot. “Looks like you liked them.”

He nods, pushing the plate away from him as though he can’t stand to be near it. “It’s really good,” Harry tells you and pats himself firmly on the stomach twice to prove it. It’s a silly motion that brings a smile to your lips anyway and you really, truly can’t help it. “M’gonna save the other one f’when she gets here.”

Hope is a good thing to have, you decide, and he’s clearly still holding onto it. You’d never been stood up before but you’re sure you’d have given up on the idea of a first date long before he had and you applaud him internally for that - he’s patient and kind and understanding, you decide. Much more tolerant than anyone else you know would be in this sort of situation and it only adds to the growing desire you have for him, but you push it down - for the sake of professionalism. “Well, that’s nice,” you tell him and he smiles, the expression tight and complimentary. “Can I get you anything else?”

“M’good,” Harry says, “but - can y’show me where the bathroom is inside?” He motions with one swirling finger to the empty glasses in front of him and his grin looks rather embarrassed when he looks back up to you. “Think I drank m’drinks a bit too fast.”

You laugh out loud at that and if he notices that your giggling goes on for just a beat longer than  appropriate, he doesn’t acknowledge it and wow, don’t you feel like a damn schoolgirl with a crush. Laughing at his joke-that-wasn’t-a-joke and feeling your face burn up when you look at him and having your stomach turn when he stands up to follow you into the restaurant and holy hell, he’s tall. You feel embarrassed walking in with him behind you because you’re not sure what he’s looking at, and what if you have a stain on your jeans? Or the back of your shirt? He’s dressed so nice and your face is fucking flaming and you avoid eye contact with Lauren as you point him towards the restroom.

“Thanks, love,” he says, voice thick and heavy as he maneuvers through the indoor tables to get to the restroom and you send him off with a small wave - just a jerk of your hand - and the second he’s out of sight you wipe your palms on your apron again.

Lauren’s making a cappuccino and so you flock over to her, naturally. You can tell she just redid her ponytail because it sits higher on her head and you think you should do that too, so you pull your black scrunchie out of your hair and work on assembling it into a better ponytail.

“That’s the guy from 305, isn’t it?” she questions.

“The guy I took to the bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh - yeah.” You swallow, bending down to glance into the metal of the espresso machine to see your blurred reflection, making sure your ponytail is as smooth as possible before tying it up. “Yeah, that’s him. He’s nice.”

She hums softly, grabbing a small spoon and stirring the coffee once then twice before resting it inside the cup, already reaching for another cup to begin another. “Are you sure he’s being stood up?”

You scrunch up your nose, leaning back against the counter and tilting your head in slight confusion. “I’m pretty positive - he’s been here for, like, an hour and 15 minutes waiting for a girl and he’s still hopeful that she’s going to come.” And then you sigh, the noise overly dramatic and your coworker rolls her eyes. “Why?”

“He was checking you out, babe.”

You raise your eyebrows, head turning to the side so fast you swear you nearly get whiplash as you stare at Lauren. She simply stands, making her cappuccino as if she hadn’t just blew you away with her observation and you’re sure it meant nothing but it still has your heart thumping violently against your chest and you exhale. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Girl, I was watching - he was. His eyes never left your ass. He almost ran into the door, too.”

“You’re lying.” “Why would I lie? He’s cute, isn’t he? Aren’t you happy?”

“Laur, he’s being stood up. I know he is. He’s not focusing on my ass - he’s probably crying in the bathroom right now.”

She laughs at that, hooking her finger in the handles of the two cappuccinos, steam billowing from both of them like a fire. “Well, maybe he is being stood up, but - I swear to god - he’s into you.” And then she’s walking back down the aisle between tables to reach the front of the restaurant, headed out the door without another glance as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you and you stare after her, mouth agape and palms sweating and you wipe them on your apron once more.

 --

 Harry returns to his seat and, for a while, you don’t check on him.

He seems fine, anyway. Decently enough. Sure, his drinks are still empty  in front of him and he leaves that one risotto ball alone and, every so often, he glances up and down the sidewalk before bringing his gaze back down to his phone but it doesn’t quite look like he needs anything.

Anyway, it’s 8:30. Even if she shows up they wouldn’t be able to stay very long and, no matter what, he deserves a fulfilling first date. Maybe she did get caught at work and, when he leaves, they’ll laugh about it. Reschedule it for a different day where he picks her up from her house, and then who knows? Maybe they’ll go ice skating or see a movie. And this entire situation will be something they’ll laugh out and forget and they’ll probably get fucking married, with your luck.

You’d be happy for him, of course. And even though you’ll likely never speak to him again after he leaves for the night, you do want the best for him, though you think the best for him would be you and not some girl who stood him up with no text.

303 is gone after spending entirely too long sitting and chatting and you wave them off with a goodbye and a bright smile, grabbing their check just as Brianna runs out to begin clearing it off. Full glasses of water are dumped into the plants and you help her bring them inside before going to deposit the check - it’s a nice tip and you’re thankful. They’d been a kind enough table but sometimes those are the type to screw you over with the tip and you’re beyond glad they hadn’t - you’ve had a strange enough night without the added weight of no tip.

You head back outside with 302’s check and drop it at their table, returning their grateful smile with one of your own. There’s nowhere else to go or visit besides 305 and so you head over to him, ducking underneath his umbrella for what seems like the thousandth time that day and it’s then that you can see his face, ever so slightly crestfallen as he stares at his phone and your heart just about drops into your ass, and without a second thought you pull out the empty seat across from him and sit.

“What’s wrong?” you ask and you’re fairly certain you already know, but there’s no shame in inquiring further - his phone is clutched in his hand and he looks up at you before clearing his throat and that’s enough confirmation for you.

“She’s out wit’ her friends - they’re at a bar.” And, as if to prove it to you, he slides his phone across the table to you and you crane your neck to glance down at the screen and it’s an Instagram story - a boomerang of four girls clinking their drinks together, and you scrunch your nose. “She’s the one on the right.”

The one on the right is decently pretty - blonde hair straightened and falling down her back, drink spilling over the edges of her glass when she clicks it too enthusiastically with her friends. Her dress is tight and sparkly and nearly overpowers the entire story and you can already make your mind up about how you feel about her and, needless to say, it isn’t good.

“Oh.” You watch the boomerang for another couple of seconds before pushing his phone back over to him and he gives you a tight lipped grin. “I’m sorry, Harry. That really sucks.”

“S’alright.” He shrugs and you can tell it isn’t alright but you don’t say anything else until he adds, “I wasn’t tha’ into her, anyway. M’friend wanted to set us up. I guess she wasn’t really into it but - I wasn’t either. S’all fair.”

Your heart hurts for him - she wasn’t into it but you know he was and before you can think to stop yourself you reach over, resting your hand over his and holy shit. You shouldn’t do that. He can lie and say he doesn’t mind but you know he does and you’re still his fucking waitress - you shouldn’t touch him like you’ve known him any longer than two hours. Just as you go to pull away with a frenzied apology he’s turning his hand around so your palms are pressed together and then he squeezes your hand with a soft sigh and you’re nearly paralyzed at the motion.

It can’t be more than a few seconds that you two sit like that, his hand tight around yours and you can hardly breathe, heart thumping in your chest before he says, “What time d’you close?”

“Uh -” you clear your throat just as he releases your hand and you withdraw it immediately - your hands are sweating and you press them on the table. “We close at 9, but - I only have one more table, and they’re about to leave … so …”

“What else d’you have t’do?”

“All my closing stuff,” you begin, sticking up your fingers as you list each one. “I need to roll silverware, get ice, put the glasses away, take the trash from the bathroom. And then I’ll probably get something to eat.”

Harry nods, gazing almost wistfully into the night as though he’s some sort of philosopher and you lean in, waiting to hear whatever he has to say next - “Could y’eat with me when y’get your food? If y’don’t mind.” And it takes you a moment to react as he adds, “S’just - you’re nice t’talk to, an’ all tha’. But y’don’t have to.”

You swallow thickly, already feeling your stomach flipping and your knee jiggling and you nod - first a quick jerk of your head, up and down, and then faster. 302 is arranging their stuff to leave, grabbing their boxes and shoving their credit cards into their pockets and you wish you could tell them to get the hell out because you can’t start closing until they leave and now you really have a motivation to leave. “Yeah. That - that sounds good.”

It sounds more than good, in fact, and you don’t even care if you’re some sort of rebound to him in this moment - you’ll take it. You’ll eat your dinner with him and then whatever comes after - you don’t care. You just want tonight, or, at the very least, right now, and anything after that is simply a bonus and you’ll deal with it later because he wants to eat with you. He wants to hang out with you. He likes you, and maybe even in that way, too.

You’re standing up uncomfortably fast, nearly tripping over the seat you’d inhabited as you rub your palms together. “Well - um. My other table is getting ready to leave, so I’m gonna - gonna start doing my stuff.”

“Sounds good,” and he’s so casual with it that it sends heat blazing up your cheeks, and you turn to head back inside with a newly found skip in your step that’s too full of joy to be embarrassing.

Brianna’s already begun the silverware when you get inside - with only 2 tables left, there’s no need for her to stay, but you tell her that you’ll roll if she does the other closing duties and she accepts because she’s horrific at rolling silverware. They’re always loose and lumpy and too big or too small and none of you want to tell her because it’s easier to just make pretend like it’s your favorite closing duty to do - well, whatever. She’s gone downstairs to get a bucket of ice before she can ponder on your insistence and you settle in your seat, grabbing a knife and two forks and resting them in the middle of your linen to begin to roll.

You have the motion down nearly to an instinct and it gives you time to glance outside. Through the windows you can see just the side profile of Harry’s face, only slightly illuminated by his phone screen as his lips wrap around his straw, surely sucking on the dissolved ice cubes in one of his glasses and it makes your heart beat faster in your chest - you nearly drop a fork when you go to begin a new roll.

 --

 Your pasta is ready entirely too soon.

You’re finished rolling silverware and the ice is filled and the bathrooms are stocked and clean but you hadn’t emotionally prepared yourself enough to eat with him. But your fettuccine sits, steaming on the counter ready for you to pick up and you stab the ticket once you’ve confirmed it’s yours, grabbing the burning hot plate with your one hand and grabbing a spoon with the other.

You can still see Harry’s side profile when you peer out the window and he’s glancing around, eyes darting from the sidewalk to the door as though he’s waiting for you and you know you can’t keep him alone for another second, so you inhale a deep sigh and walk out the door, pasta in hand.

He just about perks up when he sees you, back straightening and dropping his phone onto the table. You swear he’s about to get up and pull the chair out for you, too, but you beat him to it - duck underneath the umbrella and rest your plate on the table, slipping into your chair with ease and a soft cough into your fist.

(You’re not sick - not in the slightest. It just alleviates your stress, you suppose. Eliminates some awkward silence.)

“Hey,” Harry says, elbows resting on the table so he can look at you in full and you can already feel your body flaming as you pick up your spoon, sifting it through the thick pasta on your plate. Alfredo - God, it’s your favorite. You’ve been trying to branch out and try more things on the menu but it always takes you back to your damn fettuccine alfredo. “I hope this isn’t weird.”

“It’s not weird,” you insist, collecting a spoonful of pasta and bringing it to your mouth. The smell is intoxicating and you pause when the spoon is just an inch from your mouth. “I’m sure you had a rough night.”

He shrugs, leaning back in his seat as you take a bite, chewing slowly and thoughtfully as though you’re pondering something important. “It wasn’t too rough,” he tells you, and you raise your eyebrows. “It would’ve been bad - but you helped.”

“Really?”

“Sure y’did.” You take another spoonful of fettuccine as he continues. “It sucks t’be stood up, but you were nice.”

“I could tell you were upset.”

“An’ you couldn’t tell you were makin’ it better?”

You think for a moment - think back on the countless interactions you’d had with the near-stranger sitting across from you, pulling the plate with one lone risotto ball over to him - and then shake your head. “I just thought you were being sweet.”

He laughs, reaching for his abandoned fork resting on the side of the plate and cutting in to the second risotto ball - you can tell how much he’d been longing to eat it simply from the expression on his face when he takes the first bite - with a shrug. “Sure I was,” and you laugh at that, ripping the piece of bread on the side of your plate and half and dipping it in the sauce, “but you must’ve realized I like you - didn’t you?”

“Well, I did think it was curious that you held my hand.”

“Y’did it first.”

“Well, the technicalities don’t matter.”

It brings a grin to your face to hear Harry laugh at you, curls flopping in his face, crossing his arms over his chest as he chews on a particularly large bite of his risotto ball. Your pasta is already nearly gone (you’d vastly underestimated how hungry you were) and you scrape the sides of the plate with your bread, collecting all of the excess sauce on the dough. “Was feeling a bit guilty,” you confess, drumming your fingertips on the tabletop, and he tilts his head at you, “‘cause I was starting to feel a bit thankful you got stood up.”

For a moment you wonder if you’d said the wrong thing - if you’ve ruined this entire thing before it’s even started, because it’s an uncomfortably real risk -, but then he’s reaching out to rest his hand overtop of yours and your body overflows with relief. “I agree,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand, and you swallow. “Y’had me prayin’ she wasn’t going to show up.”

You smile, looking down at the table and your empty plate and his half eaten risotto ball that he’s already taking another bite of and it all seems so surreal - like you’re going to wake up in your bed an hour before your shift starts, cursing yourself out for creating such an immersive reality - but nothing about his touch on yours is fake. It’s all so spectacular - so real - and you exhale. “We’re closing in 5 minutes,” you tell him, and his eyebrows scrunch together like he’s seen something he regrets. “Reckon we should take this someplace else?” “Someplace else?”

Your stomach flips and you wonder for what feels like the millionth time this evening if you’d made a mistake - read him wrong - took things too far. It’s an unfortunate habit you have and you certainly wouldn’t be shocked if you’ve put your foot in it this early into the relationship - you’ll regret it, but you regret a lot of things. In a couple of weeks, you’ll forget about it, won’t you? You’ve done it before. But you simply shrug, motioning with your free hand to the empty tables among you both. “I live - um - a couple blocks up the road. If you want to come over. And - it’s fine if you don’t - just putting it out there.”

Harry stares at you, expression nearly blank, for a beat too long and you shift in your seat - but then there’s a smile stretching across his face, and he pushes his half-eaten risotto ball in towards the center of the table. “That sounds perfect,” he tells you, and your heart thumps in your chest once more.

 --

 For the record, you hadn’t anticipated having anyone over to your apartment tonight, and it shows.

There’s dirty dishes from the previous two days piled in the sink, shoes strewn all over the entryway and when you peer your head into the sitting room, your pajamas are strewn over the couch next the wine stain you’d spent hours trying to scrub out. Your face burns as you turn the lights on and Harry steps inside, head turning left and right as he examines your living space and you wish you’d cleaned up after yourself before you left for work - you’ve been meaning to do the dishes - why hadn’t you done them?

“It’s - um - not much,” you begin, shutting and locking the door firmly behind you and motioning with your arms to the entirety of your apartment. “And it’s kind of dirty. I just didn’t expect anyone to come here, or I would’ve fixed it up a bit.”

He smiles, peering at the photos adorning your walls. “Don’ worry ‘bout it,” he insists, bringing his finger up to trail along the high school graduation photo you’d taken with all of your friends until he spots you, smack in the middle, holding up your diploma with a wide grin - you don’t speak to half of the people in that photo anymore, but you love it. Love reminiscing on a time before college and work and rent, where you could just relax with your friends. “Y’look awfully pretty in this photo.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, clasping your hands behind your back as you watch Harry examine each photo. None of them are interesting enough to warrant his level of attention and you’re sure he’s simply trying to be polite but you still appreciate it - it’s nice to imagine that he has that much interest in a photo your mother had taken of you and your dog on a hike. “Do you want me to - to pour some wine or something?”

“That’s alright,” he says, turning around to face you and you glance up at him with a soft smile as he rests his hand on your shoulder, fingertips trailing up and down your arm and sending goosebumps popping up over your skin. You can’t remember the last time you’d felt like this about a boy and it’s making you fucking crazy, torn between wanting to wrap your arms around him or have him bend you over the counter - you can’t quite decide. 

“Alright.” You roll on the balls of your feet as Harry steps into your kitchen, leaning against the counter with an air of casual arrogance and adoration as he stares down at you. You pad into the kitchen behind him and press your palms to the countertop, lifting yourself up to sit beside him, and you hum softly. “Well - we could talk, then.”

“Y’wanna talk?”

“I wanna do whatever you wanna do,” you confess, and it’s the truth.

He hums at that, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth and you watch him, breath caught in your throat, as he pushes himself from the counter, doing nearly a full spin before landing directly in front of you and your knees part to allow him in between them like an instinct - your face heats as he pushes himself closer to you, thighs closing around his waist. “Y’seem nervous,” he says, palms pressing to the counter on either side of your body and you inhale a shaky breath, shaking your head.

“I’m not nervous,” you tell him, even if it’s a little white lie. “I just haven’t done this in a while -” and that isn’t a lie in the slightest.

“Ah,” and then Harry nods like some sort of therapist, hands already dropping to your waist, fingertips scratching at zipper of your jeans as if testing the waters. “An’ you’re sure y’want this?”

“I’m positive - please, Harry, I really want this. Wanted this from - from the second I saw you.”

It’s all the approval he needs, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans with ease and you loop your arms around his neck, using him as leverage to lift your hips up and he pulls your jeans off and down your thighs, leaving them bunched up by your knees. The next step is your panties, so damp you can tell he feels it through the fabric when he pressed his fingers against you and your hips jerk into his hands, dropping your head into his shoulder as he exhales.

“I’ll go slow,” he tells you, voice low and raspy and you’re not sure if he’s trying to make it sound like that or if it just naturally happens - well, you can’t decide which one is hotter, truthfully. “Jus’ wanna make y’feel good, love.”

“Mhm,” you nod, gnawing on your bottom lip as Harry hooks two fingers in the crotch part of your panties, pulling them to the side and the cold air of your apartment hits your cunt in a way that has your breathing picking up and he pauses, fingers so dangerously close to where you need them. You know he’s going to ask if you’re okay - if you want him to stop - and you don’t, not by a fucking long shot, and you push your hips into his hand as way of answering his unasked question.

Harry takes the hint, of course. He isn’t stupid.

Two fingers circle your clit, spreading your moisture along the sensitive nub like he’s been wanting to do it all fucking night - there’s some sort of desperation to his movements that has your legs tightening around him, head burying further into his shoulder, and his free arm hooks around one of your thighs, hoisting it further up his waist. His breathing is hot against your head as his digits slide up and down your folds and you’re not sure if he’s attempting to tease you or not but, no matter, it’s working. You’re ready to get on your knees and beg for him if you need to, but just as the thought crosses your mind, his fingers dip down to slide in between your folds.

A soft moan emits from your throat as his hand smooths up and down your thigh, fingers dipping just barely into your cunt before pulling out - and he does it a few times, giving you a bit of what you want and then tearing it away and you whine, thrusting your hips into his hands and Harry presses a kiss to the side of your head before sliding his fingers inside of you. Two to start, just to ease you in, pushing them in slow and steady until you can feel his cool rings pressed against your pussy and you throw your head back with a moan.

He pauses, lip still between his teeth as he stares at you, your chest heaving beneath him and body fucking quivering in his gasp. “Tell me how it feels,” he breathes, tongue darting out to lick at his lips, and you swallow your desperate whine for him to move.

“Feels so good,” you murmur, smoothing your hands up and down his neck as he stares at you as though daring you to break his gaze. “Please, Har -”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me - with your fingers, Har, please - make me feel so good -” and just to top off your request you lean in, crashing your lips so violently against his that your teeth clash and tongues collide, and you can taste everything you’d served him that evening and holy hell it tastes delicious. Perhaps it’s just him, dropping your thigh against the table so he can grab onto the back of your neck and keep your face attached to his, lips parted and wild and dominant as he pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in with a newfound vigor -

The levee breaks, then, with your lips mashed together, and you’re more than thankful for it.

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles drabble #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #loll i actually like this a lot #the smut is rlly rushed bc i didnt want to have any to begin with but i added it in #soz!