#and that probably gave me the distance i needed to pick some of them up again

[bookshelf-in-progress]

There's always a danger of caring too much about a story, and then getting paralyzed by the need to do it justice, so it never gets written.

I've solved this problem in the past by writing stories so fast that I don't have time to get too invested, or writing stories that I'm not that attached to.

But maybe the trick is to love the story so much that I want to share it any way I can, even if it's imperfect. To feel that any version of this story is better than the story never getting written at all. To get out of my own way and stop worrying about what other people will think of my writing, or even what I think of my writing, and love the story for its own sake, love the readers enough to want to have the joy of sharing the story with them.

Maybe it'll work. Maybe it won't. But so far it feels like a much better approach.

#adventures in writing #i think inklings has finally born fruit for me #other years i've stayed far away from beloved story concepts #for just this reason #and then i mentally shelved most of those story concepts #recognizing i'd likely never write them in a way that lives up to my imagination #and that probably gave me the distance i needed to pick some of them up again #for one thing the short time frame of inklings forces me to get down to the heart of the concept to fit it into a short story #and the long development time means i've had time to figure out what the core of the concept *is* #what keeps this story lingering in my imagination; which means i know what the good parts are #and then the deadline also forces me to try to write it fast and short #because if i don't write it for inklings i likely never will #and that's a tragedy i want to avoid #having such a clear concept of the story's core #means i can put up with ugly haphazard drafts #because i know what the overall story feels like; i've had years to develop it #so instead of a bad draft proving a story's not worth writing #i *know* that the story's worth writing because it's stuck with me this long #so the ugly drafts are just the building blocks necessary to create the final product #of course the danger is that i'll put out a story and it won't be as cool outside my head #and people will hate this piece of my soul i've poured out to them #but if i love it enough maybe it'll reach that special status #where it means so much to me personally that the wider audience reaction doesn't matter #but before i worry about this i gotta write a draft first

[writingoddess1125]

Found Treasure

1000 Follower Special!

Saw I reached 1000 Followers and 5000 Likes! So a nice fluffy Buggy Twins fic!!

Buggy × Reader +TwinsDeeBee

Support me on Ko-Fi

"Bugs I don't know about this-" You say with a frown as you stare at the man before you, finishing his makeup in the mirror and Grinning widely.

"Well they said they wanted to join me on collecting some treasure and besides next week we are starting that little vacation. Might as well get some more cash before we go" He said dismissively. You frowned at hearing this and raised a brow-

"Besides its probably the safest place, it's literally just where I stash my extra treasure! Who would be there"

You couldn't argue his logic technically- making a fake treasure pick up for the boys who had been begging to do 'pirate stuff' with their father. This seemed fairly safe and with the boys Devil fruit abilties they could protect themselves.

"I guess- but I don't want them in real danger Sweetheart"

"They will be fine, I swear" He said as he turned to finally face you, smiling brightly in his signature look. He leaned in like he was going to kiss you but you held a hand up- Both of you still in this weird relationship if you two were actually dating or not. Which made things awkward at times- Like this.

Both of you sort of froze as tension filled the air- unsure of what to say or do at this point. Thankfully the noise of your guys sons came crashing in- both boys having insisted in doing face paint like their father and doing it themselves.

"Mom! Dad! Look!!" Bee cheered loudly as both boys stood before you. The makeup on their face was- Something. Bee had clearly tried to do something like a clown makeup a sloppy layer of white layered on his face with blue on his cheeks like blush and red on his lips in a crooked smile. Dee had declined the white layer of paint and put blue on his lips in a smile and red on his cheeks.

Buggy smiled as he stared down at his boys, smiling with pride- Despite the sloppy makeup he felt a sense of pride.

"Look at you two!" He said cheerfully as he fixed hats over their heads to cover their hair- smiling brightly at this as the boys looked up at him and smiled brightly.

Ge felt a odd peg in his chest at seeing them like this, like his chest got warm and fuzzy. Buggy gave a slight body shiver to get out of it and turned to head upstairs, shaken by that warm feeling.

"We will be back later (Y/N)-" Buggy said a bit shortly to you before dismissing himself. He knew the boys were following him as he headed to the Main Deck. Once there he saw the crew was on high alert and Cabaji rushed to him.

"Sir! Strawhat pirates are ahead of us! Just around the bend" Cabaji said as he passed the telescope to him, Buggy looking through quickly as he saw in the distance the Strawhats in that hellish ship he was trapped in sailing not far from his destination.

"Captian?" Cabaji asked again, Buggy glancing down at his boys who were excitedly waiting for him.

"Let them pass- I'm not wasting my time on small fry pirates" He said nonchalantly- choosing to not let his time with his sons be disturbed by those damn Strawhats.

"We dock at Coal Island" Buggy said quickly and turned away to go to his boys, missing the deep frown from Cabaji.

Once on the island Buggy walked them through things to do- Telling them to stay close to him as he walked him to the safe spot to dig up the extra treasure.

"Now boys, this should be quick and then we head back understand? I did see a ship passing and we need to-" He stopped as he heard silence and turned to see the boys gone. In less then 30 God damn seconds they were gone!?

"Boys?.. Boys!?" Buggy yelled out in confusion as he saw that his spawns were missing from his sides.

He ran around the island wildly, his stress spiking as he tried to find his children. Panic rushing through his system as he darted around wildly on the island searching for his kids. Even getting into some beef with a large bird- hearing chattering behind a large Boulder he froze, recognizing the tone of those little voices as his kids.

Blades out he jumped around the corner and damn near felt himself have a brain aneurysm at what he saw- lowering his blades he stared.

Buggy felt an acute pain in his temple as he watched his boys talk to the Strawhat pirate crew and being the social butterflies they were in making new friends.

"That's so cool! You're stretchy!?" Bee said excitedly as Luffy laughed and let the child pull on his arm to show his elasticity- Usopp spinning some stupid story to the overly energetic child.

Dee was looking up at Nami and Zoro in awe, shyly asking both of them questions. Nami about the weird tattoo on her arm, Zoro about the swords. Nami gushing at the adorable boy and ended up picking him up and holding him in a hug as he asked them questions. Sanji even gifting the two some cookies he had in a bag with a kind smile.

"For the love of- Boys come here now! Don't make friends with the enemy!" Buggy yelled and marched over red faced to take his boys from the Strawhat pirates.

The crew immediately getting defensive over seeing him and wanting to take these wondering children in bad face paint.

"Binky?-" Luffy said with a sense of indifference. Zoro's hand coming to his blade calmly, even Nami holding Bee closer like she was going to protect the little tyrant.

"It's Buggy Damn It!-" He yelled still marching forward.

"But Dad!-" Both boys started, Making the whole crew freeze and Buggy wanting to sob in defeat.

"Dad?!-" the whole crew parroting as the discovery was made. Buggy groaned at this as he rubbed his temple trying to figure out if a very late late abortion was an option.

"Yes these are my kids... Danny and Benny- Boys these are the bastard Strawhat pirates that seem to exist to be a thorn in my ass-" He deadpanned before taking Dee from Nami with a glare and set him down calmly next to him. Bee looking up at the irritated Buggy with a confused look.

"Wait, Someone actually let you ejaculate I to them?" Zoro questioned calmly as he gestured to the two kids with bad face paint on them.

"Dad what does ejaculate mean?" Dee asked, which earned a snort from Sanji. Buggy glared at them all and sighed.

"Ask your mother later and Yes- I do have a social life" He deadpanned at Zoro for the sly insult to his abilties to have a sex life.

An awkward silence followed at this, Buggy gesturing for his kids to get behind him which they did- Still munching away on the cookies Sanji had gifted them.

"Listen I'm in no mood to fight- While I'd love a chance to beat you strawhat-"

"We wouldn't fight you infront of your children" Luffy said calmly as he gestured to the boys, Grinning proudly. Zoro nodded at this. "Nor are we going to say anything about them either"

The clown blinked in surprise at this feeling a bit confused over this. They had a chance to get the upper hand on him, Hell even an emotional weakness of learning of his kids. Yet they were just letting him go? And his kids without wishing to say anything.

Buggy felt conflicted... normally he would have used the fact that the Strawhats were distracted to attack them and get the upper hand but... he couldnt... he couldn't just let his kids be used as bait or have them in that type of danger... while he had always appreciated being raised on Roger's ship and the experience it had given him but- He couldn't never put his kids in that same envirment, he loved them too much...

He nodded at the crew for this, not having words for his gratitude nor wishing to vocalize it. Guiding the kids away he felt his mind racing at this point, walking them back to were his treasure was buried and the three of them retrieved his hidden loot. Letting the boys chatter and do as they pleased before heading back to the ship- Still mentally out of it from these feelings he was having.

"Hey Dad?" Bee's voice snapped him from his thoughts, looking at his son holding his hand and the other holding the small bag of treasure since he wanted to carry something.

"Hm?" The clown hummed in question. Bee smiled proudly at Buggy as he squeezed his hand.

"I love you Dad!" Buggy felt a ping yo his chest like Bee had just shot warmth through him, feeling the squeeze on his other hand and looking to Dee who also smiled.

"I love you Dad" Dee said too, smiling brightly up at him and squeezing his gloved hand too.

Buggy felt hot tears well in his eyes, looking at both twins and using his Chop Chop abilities scooped them both in his arms with care.

"Love you guys too peanuts" He said with a smile as he walked them back to the ship. Ignoring the stares of his crew as he boarded his ship holding his boys with pride.

Walking down to his Cabin were he knew you were he kicked open the door with his foot and looked at you. Who was seated there surprised by his rather blunt arrival into the room. "Buggy?-"

"I'm in love with you, I-I don't know what that means emotionally but I'm fairly sure I love you and the boys more then I knew possible" Buggy blurted out, you'd never seen this side of him before. He almost looked afraid at this point like you were holding the one thing that could kill him, which in some way you were... his heart.

"I-I well.. We can always start back up Bugs if you want... and it's natural to love your children" You say shyly, Watching him set the boys down and walk to you. Pulling you up to your feet and kissing you, you felt every drop of emotion from his hungry lips as he devoured you heart and soul. Blushing cherry red you couldn't help but kiss him back, holding him close as you two shared in the passionate kiss.

Pulling away for air Biggy grinned at you, his eyes sparkling as he looked on you in awe.

"I love you" Hear him whisper, When you tried to reply you heard Cabaji call out for Buggy for assistance.

"You should um...take care of that" You say softly.

He smiled brightly as he gently released you. Calling back out to Cabaji as he reached over to remove the boys hats and ruffle their hair before heading out.

You stood there blushing as Buggy left, a wide smile on his lips as he headed upstairs to assist with his crew. You giggle as you turn to look at your boys, wiping some of the red from your lips

"Hey Mom?" Bee started, looking up at you like tye adorable God damn bean he was.

"Yes my heart?"

"What does ejaculate mean?" Dee asked, staring up at you in question. You froze in your spot- hearing the fast footsteps from Buggy as he rushed to the Main Deck clearly wishing to escape you.

"BUGGY!!!"

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy the clown x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #op buggy #buggy the clown

[localemofreak]

Got That Kinda Look To Make Me Freak.

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Based on the song:

Emo Boy - Ayesha Erotica

—————————————

‼️Warnings‼️: use of y/n, slight smut ahead, also kinda fluffy, Eddie is a slightly awkward mf, etc. (if I forgot anything please tell me!)

—————————————

It was a nice Saturday day- and you had decided to head off to the mall, thinking it would be nice to walk around and shop at some of your favorite stores.

As you walked around the mall- that’s when you saw him.

You watched this stranger from a slight distance- he was in a cute little candle shop (wayne probably forced him to get a candle- nasty ass 💀) but he stood out like a sore thumb in there as he stood by the front window of the store.

You watched as he just picked random candles up, sniffing them before quickly placing them back down.

He had long brown wavy hair, he was wearing an Iron Maiden shirt, ripped black jeans, a leather jacket with a denim vest on top of it, the denim vest had a bunch of different pins and patches- honestly bad ass, and he also had some white Reebok's on.

You couldn't forget the million accessories on him, which you noticed first when he grabbed a candle- those rings on his fingers, they looked so cool- they definitely weren't normal rings you could buy in a Walmart.

But one thing that you knew for sure- man, was he hot..

After a moment of standing there, gawking at the random young man, you decided to walk into the candle shop while also starting a small argument with yourself in your head.

You just glanced around, looking at different candles before you finally grew some balls to head over to where the mystery metalhead was standing, looking confused as fuck while scanning through different candles.

"Need some help?-" you offered with a small giggle, he just turned his head- his eyes widened slightly as he saw you, it was obvious he was little taken away by you.

"Oh, uh, yeah- I just, don't know which one is the best.." he said, stumbling around with his words while holding a candle in his hand- you just giggled at his slight awkwardness, it was cute.

"Well- if you don't want your room to smell all girly and like flowers I suggest not the one in your hand." You giggled, pointing to the 'rose and lavender' candle he was holding in his hand.

He just looked down at the candle for a second and quickly put it back, his cheeks tinted pink from embarrassment.

"Oh shit- sorry.." he mumbled, giving a slight awkward chuckle as you shook your head and giggled a little bit more, deciding to pick up a candle that smelt like apple pie.

"No need to apologize- here, this one looks like it would fit you." You said, handing him the candle with a small smile on your face.

He picked his head up to reveal his brown doe eyes and the blush on his cheeks.

Oh god he was so dreamy.

"thanks.." he said, slowly taking the candle from you- his fingers also brushing against yours which caused a slight shiver to run down your spine.

"I'm y/n." You said- you decided to introduce yourself, thinking it would be nice- he just smiled softly and nodded his head, holding the candle in his hand.

"Eddie. Nice to meet you." He said, offering his hand out to shake- you glanced down at his hands and ring covered fingers for a small moment before shaking his hand.

Even after you shook it, you two just held hands for a good second while looking into each other eyes.

-TIME SKIP-

It felt like so much happened in just the matter of seconds, even though it was hours.

Currently, you were in Eddie's trailer- the candle you gave him that he bought was now lit on his messy bedside table.

And you and him?- you were both laying in his bed, naked, his mouth was attached to yours as he hovered over you and made out with you.

His lips muffled the moans that fell from your lips as he thrusted into you with such ease, and god weren't you enjoying every second of it.

Some crazy shit must have happened at the mall for the rest of your day to end up like this- having sex with the town's local freak in his bed.

He continued to sloppily make out with you, his thrusts sloppily and deep that indicated he was getting closer- and you were too.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, your legs wrapped around his waist- his body was covered in sweat but it was hot.

Your nails dug into his back, leaving behind marks as you felt your stomach tighten before you finally released- causing you to let out the most gut wrenching, intense moan into his mouth.

He quickly followed behind you, thrusting faster and deeper until he came inside you- his head fell into your neck as he let out a loud moan, his voice cracking as he let it out but that just made it even hotter.

His sweat covered body collapsed on top of you as you and him just laid there, collecting your thoughts real quick- you swore you were seeing stars the second you opened your eyes.

Finally, he slowly pulled out of you and slowly got up, grabbing a random piece of clothing off his messy bedroom floor to clean you up with before he collapsed next to you, pulling the covers over you and him.

His bangs were attached to his forehead thanks to the sweat and his tattoos glistened slightly- you just slowly turned your numb body to lay against his chest, his arm wrapping around you.

"That candle smells nice." He mumbled, a tired chuckle escaping his lips as you just playfully rolled your eyes and dug your head into the crook of his neck to hide your giggle.

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #eddie munson #localemofreak #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff

[yandere-sins]

How would it be if blade's darling had wanted to contact him, though? Maybe to try and talk about things? They probably wouldn't know about the mind reset kafka does, so when they try to contact him to set up a meeting they think he remembers them.

Oh my god, that just gave me the sweetest of images! Some yandere's love is just so pure, I swear ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Blade didn't really know why he reacted so fast to the unknown sound.

He usually didn't get bothered by that thing in his pocket, a device Kafka made him walk around with, telling him to check it regularly. It pling! and dundun! all day long, notifications appeared on its screen that he didn't usually react to unless someone mentioned him by name. Why would he? He knew his mission; there was no need to be in constant contact with the others.

Bing!

And yet, when a new sound rang in his ears, one he hadn't heard before, Blade stopped dead in his tracks. The guy he was hunting hurdled away, crawling through the pools of blood on the floor while the rain washed away the evidence of battle. Holding his bloody stomach, he watched the Hunter reach into his pocket, picking up his phone, unbothered by the massacre in front of him, almost as if he forgot about his target that took the chance to scramble to his feet, running for his dear life.

Blade gazed at the bright screen, his eyes hurting, but he didn't even notice the pain as he read the latest banner that notified him of a message.

we need to talk

The hairs at the back of his neck stood straight as he read those four words. Blade's mouth ran dry while his breathing stopped. As if he had to hear better, every one of his motions ceased, and the sounds of the constant traffic in the distance vanished. He felt fury build up as raindrops landed on his screen, the words vanishing. Yet he didn't understand why.

Bing! Bing!

He flinched. Even a second time and repeated, this sound differed from when Kafka or Silver Wolf tried to contact him. He didn't remember it ever ringing out before. A slight shake of nervousness went through him, followed by a spark of excitement. Before he knew it, he was reading the message—eager, desperate.

[Location sent]  meet me here tonight, we really have to talk. i want this to end, you have to...

The message preview stopped there, and Blade snapped out of his trance. Slowly, his eyes trudged to the sender's name, but it was only a culmination of unfamiliar numbers. He looked at the time next, and with a twinge of disappointment, he realized it was early noon at best. A shaky breath escaped him, and for the first time since he got the notifications, he looked up into the dark alleyway before him.

It was quiet, no more breathing of his enemies. Yet, he could hear his own blood pounding in his ears and feel the desperate grip on the sword he still clutched onto. It had not been drenched in the blood of his target completely, yet, he didn't feel the yearning of finishing a job.

Instead, Blade felt compelled to go.

Where to, he didn't know. Somewhere, or precisely, where he should go, but he had never opened the message he received with the location. All he knew was that he had to go there. His legs moved on their own, steps splashing in the wet puddles on the ground. By the time he walked out onto the busy street, his sword had vanished, but not that feeling of urgency pushing him forward.

What were those feelings? Why did they keep aggravating him so? His head hurt as the lights of the cars flashed by him, taking in every moment of his pain. He should stop. He had to call Kafka. Something was wrong, and although he couldn't pinpoint it, it would be dangerous to continue on this unfamiliar path on his own.

Reaching into his pocket, he felt the little device vibrate against his fingers, followed by the now-more familiar Bling! he began to dread yet anticipate at the same time.

don't chicken out this time! just come and let's talk... i know you can see my messages

Staring at the message for a moment, he let the phone sink back into his pocket, never bothering to reply. You knew he was going to come, and he would. He wouldn't miss it for anything in this world.

You?

Who?

His legs carried him onwards into the unknown, but something told him that he knew exactly where he could find you, even if he didn't remember. Something inside him knew, and this feeling grew and grew stronger until it robbed him of any reason. There was a pull on him so strong, he couldn't help but pursue it—hunt it.

You, whoever you are, were his next target, and he had to have you. All to himself. Pressed against his marred body, engulfed by his shadow, never to be seen by anyone else again. Never to be touched unless it were his fingers resting gently against your skin, and never to be tasted unless it was on his lips and tongue. If he must devour you to have you all to himself, he would. And he would tear you down and ruin you to the point that no one would dare to take his prey away from him.

Blade had to have you. Savagely, violently. All to himself.

He didn't know who you were or what you wanted from him. Why you contacted him, or how you even knew about this pitiful creature with a heart beating so fast that he felt real fear for its safety inside of him. But he'd find you, have you, and destroy you.

And he couldn't wait to meet you.

#Blade #yandere Blade #yandere!blade #hrs #honkai star rail #yandere hrs #yandere honkai star rail #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[augiewrites]

“secret admirer” - dead poets society (part 6)

summary: y/n is introduced to the dead poets society and faces a shocking realization

pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.2k

previous | next

Morning was quickly melting into the afternoon, and Y/N had yet to get out of bed

Currently, they were staring at the ceiling, thinking about a certain brown haired annoyance. Thinking about how nice his voice sounded when he recited Shakespeare—about how nice his voice would sound reciting the poetry being delivered to them. He wasn’t that bad when Y/N really thought about it.

They needed to stop thinking.

Thankfully, a distraction swiftly entered the room, launching a muffin at Y/N’s head.

“If you’re not going to get out of bed, you at least need to eat something,” Quinn started in on Y/N, “are you dying? Be honest.”

“Physically? No.” Y/N grimaced, “Bran? Really?”

“If you wanted a chance at anything good, you should have gotten out of bed.”

A stare down.

“You’ve been shutting me out, Y/N. Remember when we used to be friends?”

Y/N picked at the muffin, mumbling, “It’s not on purpose.”

Quinn’s frustration turned to worry as they sat on the edge of Y/N’s bed.

“What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t know. My parents are on my ass about my grades, I have a fat crush on a stranger, and all my time is being taken up by schoolwork that I couldn’t care less about.”

Quinn smirked at Y/N, “Seems like you do know, bud.”

“I just wish I knew what the end goal was,” Y/N’s voice cracked, “if he even has one.”

“He has to come forward at some point, Y/N. Either that, or he slips up and you find out anyway. If he doesn’t, then he’s a coward and doesn’t deserve you anyway.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

_________________________________________

Y/N ventured out for dinner that evening after spending the afternoon ignoring their responsibilities with Quinn.

They were enjoying themselves until six familiar boys entered the dining hall. Usually Y/N would be happy to see them, but today their presence did nothing but remind them of all the bad emotions swirling around their head.

The group of boys gave Y/N friendly smiles and a few waves from across the room as Meeks broke off and headed their way.

He sat down in the empty seat beside Quinn, blushing slightly.

Meeks gave Quinn a small smile and a nod before turning to Y/N, “Will you be there tonight?”

Y/N pushed some stray carrots around their plate, “I don’t know, Steven…”

“Y/N, you have to come,” a nervous glance at Quinn, “you’ll understand. Might even help feed your soul a bit.”

“…Okay.”

“Okay?”

Y/N couldn’t help but to smile, “Yes, nerd—I’ll be there.”

“You won’t regret this. Trust.”

The boy shot a smile at Y/N, and then to Quinn before leaving the table—returning to his friends that had been periodically sending confused looks across the room.

Quinn was gaping at Y/N.

“What was that? Where are you going? Is he going to kill you? Should I be worried?”

Y/N let out an incredulous laugh, “I think I’ll be fine…not really sure where we’re going, though.”

“To his killing lair, probably.”

“I could take him.”

_________________________________________

Y/N slipped outside that night and was thankful that the temperature had yet to drop below freezing.

They were going to ditch if Meeks didn’t show up in the next five minutes. A guard dog was barking in the distance, and Y/N didn’t need a demerit on top of everything else.

Meeks’ hushed voice calling their name snapped them out of their thoughts. Pitts was trailing along behind him.

“Come on,” Meeks took Y/N by the wrist, “follow us.”

The further the trio moved away from campus and into the woods, the more worried Y/N was that Quinn was right.

“You guys aren’t taking me out here to kill me right?”

The boys laughed with a chorus of “no” and “trust us.”

“You sure,” Y/N grinned, “the cloaks aren’t really helping your case.”

Meeks exclaimed, “It’s cold!” as Pitts simultaneously laughed out, “it’s not a ritual killing if we don’t wear matching outfits.”

“Not funny,” Meeks pointed an accusatory finger at Pitts before looking at Y/N, “we’re here—watch your step.”

Y/N entered the small cave and was met with varying looks of surprise from four other boys.

“What the hell are they doing here?” Charlie blurted out.

Neil stepped forward, pushing on Charlie’s shoulder so he would take a seat, “Don’t mind him, Y/N. You’re more than welcome to be here.”

Y/N gave the boy a smile, looking around the cave in awe, “What is this?”

“This,” Knox outstretched his arms, gesturing around the small space, “is the Dead Poets Society.”

“Holy shit,” Y/N let out a small laugh.

“Here, take a seat,” Meeks guided them to a flat outcropping of rock before looking around at the others with a smile, “let’s get started.”

_________________________________________

After the boys threw a variety of snacks onto an outstretched coat, they recited an excerpt from a worn looking book.

Thus, the meeting commenced.

The boys went around the circle, reading various writings from the book and some of their own creation. Y/N’s heart felt lighter than it had in a very long time.

Todd held out the book in offering, his eyes twinkling in a way they had never seen, “Y/N?”

Y/N took the book with no hesitation, flipping through the pages until it landed on one of their favorites from Whitman.

Whoever you are, I fear you are walking the walks of dreams, I fear these supposed realities are to melt from under your feet and hands Even now your features, joys, speech, house, trade, manners, troubles, follies, costume, crimes, dissipate away from you, Your true soul and body appear before me, They stand forth out of affairs, out of commerce, shops, work, farms, clothes, the house, buying, selling, eating, drinking, suffering, dying.

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your ear, I have loved many women and men, but I love none better than you. O I have been dilatory and dumb, I should have made my way straight to you long ago, I should have blabb'd nothing but you, I should have chanted nothing but you. […]

The boys cheered—Y/N’s heart soared.

I could easily fall in love with any of these boys, they thought, my poet could be anyone here, and I would be the happiest person on the planet.

Charlie—who had been uncharacteristically quiet thus far—gently took the book from Y/N, standing up as he cleared his throat.

“This poem,” Charlie thumbed through the book before looking around the cave, his eyes lingering on Y/N’s for a beat, “reminds me of someone whom I admire.”

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express, How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!

Y/N suddenly had tunnel vision, and they barely registered Neil springing into a Shakespearian monologue.

Dalton? That poem—could he really?…

~~~

final part

a/n: the next part will be the last <;/3

taglist: @vvnbxz @edb954

#dead poets society #dead poets society x reader #dps boys #dps #dps fanfiction #dps x reader #todd anderson #neil perry #steven meeks #gerard pitts #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #todd anderson x reader #neil perry x reader #steven meeks x reader #gerard pitts x reader #charlie dalton x reader #knox overstreet x reader #dps fandom #dead poets fandom

[boundinparchment]

Sand and Shells

In which you receive a gift from a friend, who may be more than he seems.

Pure Neuvillette fluff. Dedicated to @surveyycorps because otters are adorable.

Sometimes, you came to this beach outside the city to think. Not always the same time and not always the same day of the week, but nonetheless, it was a ritual. Rain or shine, this was your spot.

You removed your shoes, settled onto the sand, and stuck your feet in the water. Like always. Work was particularly difficult right now; you needed solutions to problems, not short-term fixes, and it was impossible to think at your desk. Especially when the tension and frustration was so thick, you would need a claymore to cut through it. Your supervisor answered to the Chief Justice and you had a feeling that perhaps certain things were being hidden to save face.

As if that would spare a dismissal or a lawsuit.

The Court didn’t take anything lightly, especially clerical errors from poor management.

Resting your cheek on your knee, you stared off into the distance, watching the sun on the ripples of water. It was quiet out this way. The occasional otter, a school of fish, or some crabs but otherwise, you were entirely unbothered.

That was, until you made eye contact with an otter nearby. It tilted its head, watching you. In its paws, a pink shell. Probably lunch.

You gave a small smile and waved. Otters were always fun to watch, especially in their true element underwater, where they glided and flipped and soared. To your surprise, the otter tilted its head in the other direction and gave a distinct chirp before it darted off.

Guess these guys aren’t too used to human company, you thought.

You shifted, clearing your head further and running your fingers through the sand. So lost in thought, you didn’t hear the putter patter of paws on sand nor the chirp; you jumped when you saw the flash of blue and white as a shell was laid at your feet. The otter squeaked but remained close by, watching you on hind legs.

It wasn’t scared after all…

In fact, its eyes were different too. Not inky black at all but silver and purple…more like a melusine…

“Is this for me?” you asked, picking up the shell. “Thank you. I ate already though. You should have it.”

The otter shook its head. When you didn’t open it, it took out a rock from a fur pocket and brought it over.

“If you insist…”

Prying open the shell, you didn’t see the typical meat at all, but rather a pearl, black as night. Pearls themselves were rare out here, let alone those of different color. You plucked it out carefully and marveled at its iridescence.

You smiled and looked back at the otter. Clearly it wanted approval. It understand human speech, to some extent. How odd.

“Thank you. It’s very pretty. I’ll keep it safe. Take your rock back, you need that.”

Offering the stone in the flat of your hand, the otter took it and tucked it back into its pocket. With a chirp and a squeak, it walked away back towards the water; it looked back once and waved before departing back smoothly into the lake.

What an odd little fellow.

You held up the pearl again. There was a jeweler on the way back to your office. Rings would get in the way…a necklace, then. Why let such a beautiful pearl go to waste?

Weeks later, upon a surprise inspection, your supervisor was fired. Chief Justice Neuvillette would, to the best of his schedule, oversee the transition. He spent time getting to know names and faces, and when he came to you, your heart stopped.

His eyes were always so captivating but…surely…

“Black pearls are quite rare. The jeweler did a lovely job…they’re difficult to work with.”

You swallowed and pressed your fingers to the pearl, cold against your skin.

“It‘s from a friend. I doubt I’ll ever meet them again, so I wear it to remember them.”

“Ah. Then they’re quite lucky to have someone as thoughtful as you.”

You would remember that smile, soft and genuine, for days to come.

#neuvillette #gender neutral reader #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette x gn reader #yes yes hydro dragon allegations but also: otter

[itsscromp]

Could I ask for Jason with a kid reader who sort of just follows him around when he's on patrol? And the reason why is because he saved their sister once and so they're grateful and are building up the courage to give him a gift! Something like a drawing

Jason Todd/Red Hood x reader

OOOOOH an interesting idea anon, Honestly I've been itching to write some more Jason again so I thank you for helping me :D. Word count:746

You've had it in your pocket for almost two weeks now, You needed to find him. He had to be around here somewhere. The story is, Red Hood saved your sister who worked in the diner when it was getting raided by some of the freaks gang. He took them all out so fast, Your sister seeing the whole thing and told you.

You had to do something to thank him, so you decided to make him a drawing of the whole fight, Including a few of your own twists with it like adding "Just another day of kicking butt in Gotham" as a comic bubble for red hood.

But now was the bigger issue of finding him, You didn't know where he was. He was always on the move trying to find the next bit of trouble. So every night for the next two weeks. You got out on your bike and tried to find him.

"He's gotta be here I know it" You said to yourself as you stared at your drawing one last time, you then got on your bike and rode through Gotham City.

Reaching the Financial district, you saw more freaks as they were causing destruction and mayhem. You tried to ride away but one then saw you as you tried to get away.

"Stop the kid !!!!" They shouted as you tried to pedal faster, but their brute then stopped you dead in your tracks, knocking you off your bike.

"Please don't hurt me !!" You pleaded them.

"This ain't gonna cut it, kid. Hand over everything you got !!!" They picked you up by your collar and stared at you menacingly.

"Let the kid go !!!" A voice said in the distance.

"Oh crap it's red hood !!"

You saw him as he approached the brute, he was here to save you.

"Don't worry kid your safe now" He reassured you as he then looked at the brute.

"I ain't gonna repeat it muscle head, let the kid go !!"

He smirked as he then dropped you and turned to red hood.

"Oh yeah ??, what are you gonna do about it dumb hood ??" He then charged at him while he quickly dodged him and shot him with his non-lethal bullet.

It turned into a huge brawl as you ran for safety, Watching on as you saw Red Hood kicking the freak's asses, Wow he was amazing at fighting. He fought them all off like it was nothing, Probably not even breaking a sweat.

When it was all over, All of them defeated, He looked around, Hoping you were safe. "Kid ?? Where are you ??" He looked for you worriedly.

You then slowly emerged as you went up to him. "I'm ok... Thank you"

"What were you doing here on your own ??, It's too dangerous to be out here"

"I... I was looking for you for the past two weeks" you looked at the ground sheepishly.

He tilted his head slightly in confusion. "Why were you looking for me ??"

"You saved my sister at the Gotham Diner two weeks ago, She told me how you saved her and fought off the freaks, I... I wanted to give you something to thank you."

He walked up to you and kneeled to your height as you pulled out of your pocket the drawing. He unfolded and saw your amazing creation, The eyes on his mask creasing, Indicating he was smiling under it.

"Looks like we got ourselves a little Gotham Picasso, What's your name kid ??"

"Y/n, My sister's name was S/n"

"Yeah, I remember S/n, Tell your sister that I was glad to be able to help ok y/n ??"

"I promise red hood"

He smiled again and ruffled your hair.

"Thank you for this, I really like it"

You smiled brightly and quickly gave him a big hug before you then rode back home.

"Stay safe Red Hood!!!" You shouted before you peddled quickly back home.

It was times like these when Jason remembers why he does what he does, He gives people in this city hope, a light to look up too. No matter how dark it got.

He held onto the drawing for the remainder of his patrol and when he got back to the belfry at the crack of dawn. He then hanged it on his wall. Always going to it whenever he feels down. It made him smile every damn time.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

#platonic #reader insert #jason todd gotham knights #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood #gotham knights

[carlsdarling]

Dad carl fluff? Like him taking care of his and the Readers baby ? Please:]

-♠️

Baby Blues

Carl taking care of his son...

WARNINGS: none

"Oh no," you mumbled when the baby started crying in the middle of the night. You were about to get up when Carl started to stir next to you.

"I'll go, it's my turn," he muttered sleepily. "Sleep on." He went into the next room where Logan was resting in his cradle. You had named your son after your deceased brother and given him the middle name "Carl." Logan Carl Grimes. The baby had Carl's dark hair and chin dimple; also his eyes, he would probably look a lot like Carl when he was older.

You did breastfeed Logan, but since you didn't have enough milk, he was also used to the baby bottle. Carl bent over the cradle in the light of the small lantern. "Shhhshh," he said, bending down and lifting Logan out of the bed, carefully supporting the baby's head with his hand, as Rick had shown you both. Logan squealed. Carl tenderly squeezed the baby to his chest and walked him to the kitchen while murmuring soothing words.

In the kitchen, he put Logan in the baby rocker and prepared a baby bottle, spilling milk powder and cursing. He still couldn't get the water to be the right temperature; it was either too hot or too cold. This time it was too hot. "Ouch," he made as he checked the temperature on his wrist.

"Do you need help?" asked Michonne, who had also been awakened by the baby's crying and now came into the kitchen.

"The milk is too hot," Carl said, helplessly, while Logan's cries grew more and more furious. Unsure, he looked back and forth between the baby and the bottle.

"Give me that," Michonne demanded, taking the bottle from his hand and holding it under cold water. Then she tried to pick up the baby.

"No, I want to feed him myself," Carl protested, hastily picking Logan up again.

"You better sit down for this," Michonne called out. Carl took a seat on the kitchen corner bench and awkwardly positioned the baby on his lap. He propped it up with the pillow Michonne gave him and carefully put the sucker in his little mouth. Logan immediately began sucking and fell silent. Carl gazed entranced at his son as he drank.

Michonne was impressed. Carl was taking loving care of the baby. At first, he had to get used to the idea of becoming a dad. When you told him you were pregnant, he had reacted angrily, distancing himself by saying he wasn't ready to become a father and raise another child. In the weeks that followed, Carl had avoided you.

You were devastated. Then some newcomers arrived in Alexandria, among them Daniel, who was a few years older than Carl and was interested in you, even though you were pregnant with Carl's baby. You dated Daniel a few times, and when Carl found out about it, he flipped. "Why is she dating someone else?" he had complained to Rick, throwing stuff. His one eye had been glaring angrily.

Rick had read him the riot act and said, "Carl, you can't break up with Y/N on the basis that you're not ready for a child and then not want her to find another guy. There are other guys who are ready for this if you are not. She's a pretty girl, she's not going to stay alone permanently."

"But I didn't want a kid at all!" Carl had scolded with tears in his blue eye.

Rick rolled his eyes. "That's what can happen when you have sex, Carl."

"You have to decide now," Michonne added.

In reaction, Carl had hesitantly approached you and you'd made up, but he'd still been reluctant about the baby.

But once Logan was born, he was completely in love with him. Carl didn't know baby care very well yet, but he was steadily learning. He held the bottle at a diagonal angle so the baby could suck it empty. "Is Y/N sleeping?" asked Michonne.

"Yes, she's completely exhausted," Carl replied. "We'll take turns getting up." He had dark circles under his eyes himself. "I'll put him to bed again now," he said.

"I think he needs a fresh diaper first. Want me to show you?"

Carl nodded, overwhelmed. He watched intently as Michonne undressed, cleaned and changed the baby, explaining each step. He buttoned the romper and picked Logan up, wandering slowly around the room with him, softly singing a lullaby, "Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring." The baby patted Carl's face, mewling, and Carl smiled and kissed it on the forehead.

Logan slowly dozed off again, and Carl wiped off some milk that had run from the corner of his lips before putting him back in the cradle and returning to bed, yawning. He loved his son with all his heart.

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl fanfiction #carl grimes #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes imagines

[dootdootwriting]

Doot, absolutely love your writing❤ I have a request.

I need some angst if your feeling up to it. Can I have an unrequited love scenario with any of the Genshin men of your choosing? How do they handle your polite rejection? Who continues to love you from afar? Who is down for you so bad and takes this rejection to heart? Like "Did I do something in the past to make you upset with me? Do you love someone else?? I promise I could make you happy."

A lot of potential, what do you think?

featuring: childe; neuvilette; scaramouche; tighnari (separate) tw: some stalkery shit + cursing in scaramouche's, childe not giving a shit????, letting them down ofc, brief mention of one-night stands (non-specified) in childe's type: angst, sfw pronouns used: none a/n: i went through my inbox this morning and saw this and was like. well. forget college im doing this. ALSO IM SO ANGRY AT HOW THEY PRONOUNCE NEUVILETTE IN THIS GAME.... poor guy

CHILDE -> the "well, at least i gave it a shot!"

he's prepared himself for this, honestly

being a harbinger and away all the time means that while he does enjoy the occasional dinner date or one-night stand, he'd be the first to admit to himself that he's not the best candidate for a serious relationship

still, he had to give it a shot!

you'd have to be pretty special to get him to even think about asking you out for real, too

so, all this to say he isn't surprised when you let him down gently and give him an apologetic smile

oh, well. he'll find someone else

he can have his pick of who he wants. he travels around for work!

and he knew you'd probably say no, anyway

so... then, why does it still sting a little?

SCARAMOUCHE -> the confused + furious

what? sorry??

have you been leading him on this whole time or something? what is your fucking problem?

on the inside, he's fuming. he's harbored these feelings for you for months and you're just... what, throwing him out with the trash?

(of course, this isn't the case, and you've been perfectly polite about rejecting him, letting him down slowly with a sweet apology)

on the outside, however, he doesn't let it show. he gives a huff and pulls his hat down over his face, turning away and refusing to meet your gaze

"fine. i never cared that much anyway."

this is A LIE.

for the next week, no matter how much he tries to distract himself, all scaramouche can think about is where he went wrong.

he can't figure it out by himself, so he turns to observation

he watches you, as you go about your day-to-day life, having almost completely forgotten him.

one of these days, he'll ask again. and you'll say yes.

NEUVILLETTE -> the admirer from a distance

"ah, i see. very well then, i understand. i'll see you around then, i suppose."

he gives you a very curt, polite nod, and turns around, walking away as briskly as he can without appearing too embarrased

it's honestly very cute.

while neuvillette does his best to be respectful of your boundaries, he still can't stop himself from occasionally keeping an eye on you when he's around, just to make sure you're doing okay

if you eventually do find another partner, he does his best to abandon this behavior, able to convince himself that you'll be okay without him now that you have someone else.

if you ever run into him, neuvillette will be perfectly kind to you, but he'll leave as soon as possible. he wants to be as respectful as he can

you never said you couldn't be friends, but he never saw you that way, and it's all he can do not to get on his knees and beg

TIGHNARI -> the "forget it ever happened"

you'd have to have been friends with him for quite a while to even get to this point, honestly.

so when he asks you out, you're surprised, and a little confused

and when you gently let him down, he's just as surprised as you were when he asked

for some reason, he'd come to the conclusion you also had feelings for him... and now that he knows you don't he's so embarrassed that he feels like digging himself a hole in the forest floor and laying in it for at least the next month.

but instead, he just flushes a bright shade of red and shakes his head furiously to try and ground himself.

"ah, i'm really sorry then, i get it. just forget i ever asked."

tighnari would much rather stay as close to you as he can be. and while "just friends" isn't anywhere close to his ideal label, it would have to do.

#genshin impact #genshin x reade #childe #tartaglia #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #neuvilette #neuvilette x reader #tighnari #tighnari x reader #childe angst #childe hcs #scaramouche angst #scaramouche hcs #neuvilette angst #neuvilette hcs #tighnari angst #tighnari hcs #hcs #sfw #requested

[venturelovebot]

A/N: It's the sequel to part one! I've been feeling kinda down lately so i made this one extra fluffy and special for everyone out there going through a rough time as well. I hope y'all enjoy! Writing this gave me so much serotonin! ( ´͈ ◡ `͈ )

Premise: G/N!insecure!reader draws a new tattoo for their crush teehee,,, just trust me when I say it's pure cotton candy fluff!!!

Warnings: None! Pure fluff!

"It'll be okay. Just call me if you need help." Illari turns away from you and opens the door.

You gulp softly as she turns the knob. At the door was your date– just as cute as the day you first saw them. A gentle pink lights up your cheeks and you feel yourself involuntarily begin to smile.

"Y/N! Didn't think you'd be here!" Sloane jokes, taking a seat across from you on the floor.

You both now sit facing your coffee table with traditional art supplies scattered about on its surface.

"I guess I could say the same for you." You reply awkwardly, unsure if it was the proper thing to say or not. Your circuits are fried from anxiety.

"Please, I'm not that bad!" Sloane laughs lightly. "I may of slept in but I wouldn't want to miss a first date!"

First date... it feels unreal.

Illari locks the door behind her before you're both left alone. In the distance you can hear the thunder rumbling from an oncoming storm... it's the only noise you can hear besides the deafening silence.

"I-I can turn on a movie if you want!" You offer, "Or maybe some music if you prefer?"

"Music sounds good! What do you like to listen to anyway?" They ask, taking a peak at your phone.

"Oh– mostly [favorite genre]. It helps me focus when I'm drawing." You tap on your work playlist and set your phone aside.

"I can dig that!"

The atmosphere begins to lighten and you exhale inaudibly. Your fingers glaze over your drawing supplies before you pick up a blue pencil for sketching outlines. Sloane sits across from you with their eyes glued on your movement.

"So... did you decide on what you wanted for your tattoo yet?" You ask.

Sloane takes out their phone and lays it down on the table. They show you a picture of a skull adorned with a ceramic flower crown that appeared to be on display in a museum somewhere.

"Last year I got to visit this archeological museum in Greece. I thought this was so cool!" They explain. You take a good look at it.

Immediately you begin by tracing a circle and sketching out the guide lines. Slowly you begin adding more details. First one socket, then two. The nose was third. Last came the mouth and teeth.

"Wow. That didn't take long at all..." Sloane slides over to your side to get a better look. You feel your face warm up as their knee gently touches yours.

"It's just the rough draft. We still have a lot of work to do." You lay the paper back down on the table. "We still need to decide on the flowers."

"Hmm... well, what're your favorite flowers?"

"My favorites? Why mine? This is your tattoo. It should be your favorite flowers."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you thought together. Another rumble of thunder in the distance as the sunset was covered up in a blanket of gray clouds.

"What about chrysanthemums? You said you saw this skull in Greece. Chrysanthemums are very popular there." You begin to sketch out the flowers along the top of the skull.

Sloane watches as your drawing slowly began to come together. Your fingers moved elegantly across the paper as you added more and more detail to your sketch. There was something fascinating about the way you did things that had them utterly engrossed with the whole process. Anyone else could do the same thing and it would bore them to tears– but not you. Something about you was different. Their heart softly pounded in their chest as you steadily continued your work.

"There. What do you think of it so far?" You ask, handing them the paper again.

There were no words. The silence from them made you anxious.

"You don't like it?" You frowned and bit your lip realizing you probably shouldn't have said that.

"It's beautiful. Of course I like it–" Sloane's face flushed from nervousness. "No, that's not true... I love it! You're crazy talented!"

You couldn't help but laugh. Sloane's gentle pink face turned bright vermillion– they had never been more flustered in front of another human being before. Not in a long time.

"I mean that!"

You tuck some of your hair behind your ear and glance away.

"I believe you. I've just never seen you so red before."

They place their hand on their face in an attempt to hide themself. "I–" They stop talking before they can embarrass themself further.

"Hm?" You teased them by poking their cheek. You simply couldn't help yourself this time.

Then you're caught by complete surprise when Sloane brings their hand to cup yours and place it on their warm face. Their other hand moves from their mouth and they look at you in complete seriousness.

"I mean it– you're different. I haven't ever felt like this before. It's weird– I love to talk to you. I love spending time with you. You're talented and interesting in every way–" They pause for a moment.

All is still. The only sound is the soft music playing in the background and the soft pattering of rain against the nearby windows.

"I mean it! I... I like you, okay? I mean it." They confess.

"Oh." Your faces now share the same flustered red. "Wow."

"Well... I fucked up, huh...?" Their hand begins to move away from yours.

You cup their face with your other hand and move in closer. Before you could think you press your lips up against theirs and kiss them. It feels like an eternity passes before you slowly pull away.

"C-can you do that again?" Sloane's voice cracks. Their smile lights up their entire face.

You do as they ask and kiss them again.

"One more time...?" They beg.

You kiss them one more time before the two of you separate for good. Afterwards you couldn't help but glance at the floor in embarrassment as the shame hit you all at once.

"Thanks." Is the only thing they can muster.

"Please don't tell Illari, she'll never let this go." You plead.

"I won't tell if you don't." Sloane smirks, still trying to recover from the whole ordeal.

"Then... umm... let's get back to it."

"To what?" Their heart begins to pound again.

"To the tattoo."

"Oh. Yeah. That." They exhale softly in both relief and disappointment. They made a mental note to ask for more kisses in the future.

You begin the slow and arduous clean up process. You're extra careful to brush off loose eraser rubber in a way that doesn't disturb the rest of the drawing. Outlining with ink proved more difficult than usual as your hands noticeably shook from all of the excitement. You made sure every line was neat and fluid before scanning the drawing into your laptop for back up.

Neither of you talked for the remainder of the process, but the silence was a comfortable one this time. Outside the rain had steadily turned into a light drizzle.

"Do you want to color it with me? You can choose the colors, obviously."

"Would I?!" Sloane grinned before catching themself. "I mean... I would love to!" They add. They couldn't help but cringe internally from being so awkward.

"You're so cute," you smile. "I mean it." You echo the sentiment that was given to you earlier.

"Aww... stop it! You're making me blush!" They grab the black color pencil and get to work coloring before they face further embarrassment.

"That's the point." You tease them gently before joining them.

The two of you color in silence before Sloane grabs the yellow color pencil. They look back up at you.

"Say, Y/N, what's your favorite color?" They ask.

"Oh. Probably [favorite color]. Why?"

"I want to do our favorite colors for the flowers."

You smile... but only for a moment. "Are you sure, though? Not to be a downer but what if you regret it in a couple years? Or meet someone else? Or get tired of me?" You frown just thinking about it.

They grow serious for a moment. You're afraid you made them angry from the expression on their face.

"Y/N. I need you to remember this when I say it now, okay?" Sloane says.

You nod nervously.

"Nothing could ever make me regret this. Nothing could ever make me regret spending time with you tonight. Nobody could ever come close to making me feel as safe and welcome as you do."

You exchange glances with them for some time afterwards. The words linger in the air and you feel your heart fluttering as they reach out and hold your hand.

"I want to spend a lot more time with you. Not just tonight. I want to see you again. And again. And again. I never want to stop seeing you, actually." They swallow their nervousness harshly before continuing. "I want to wake up next to you someday. I want to make history together with you. I want people to see our bones in thousands of years and know that I loved spending time with you. Does that answer your questions?"

You're left absolutely speechless.

They grin. "I know I said I wanted to be a mummy but it's not worth it if we can't be in the same tomb together. You know what I mean?"

All at once you feel hot tears spilling out on your cheeks like a broken dam. Your arms wrap around Sloane and you bury your face into their chest. "Oh my God!" You cry, and they wrap their arms around you in support. They softly rub your back as you continue to helplessly sob into their shirt.

"Just like Pylades said. It's not rotten work if it's you." They quote.

The rain continues drizzling outside. All is quiet once more as they pull you into the most comforting hug you've ever been given in your entire life.

"Come on. Let's watch a movie together." They pick you up bridal style and lay you down on the couch. "What do you want to watch?"

"Hm... can we watch [favorite movie]?" You suggest.

They nuzzle their face into yours and give you a kiss on the cheek. "Sounds good to me!"

The finished skull artwork lays unattended on the coffee table as the two of you snuggle underneath the cover of a soft blanket. They wrap themself around you carefully and nuzzle into you once again. Your head presses up against their chest and you listen quietly to their racing heart as you both gently descend into sleep.

Just outside, the rain has finally stopped.

#god help me but i might continue this... #venture x reader #venture overwatch #sloane cameron #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch #overwatch 2

[waffles-art-writing]

You… Me…? - Simon Ghost Riley X Female Assassin Reader - PART II

Summary: (PART ONE - READ FIRST) It’s been a few months since Simon started staying with you. He’s been there for you through what seems to be possibly the worse few months you’ve had to endure in a long while. There’s soft touches, calling words, tears and laughter shared.

Proofread: HA! Barely….

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Female!Assassin!Reader with a child. ((I may write a part 3))

WordCount: 6k

Age Rating: 16+ Preferably

Codename: You pick, not mentioned really.

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name.

Warning/Info: Soft!Ghost, Female!Reader, Reader has a daughter. FLUFFY SO FLUFFY, Angst… I think… Domestic Life. Panic Attacks, Emotions, If I’m missing something. Tell me.

It’s been about 6 months since Ghost’s first night at yours after the mission. Emilia basically said “move in!” Within the first day of being around the poor soul. I mean… he seemed to enjoy the ‘sleepover’ if you could even call it that. It ended up with this large tank of a man, sitting Criss cross applesauce on a couch cushion on the floor.

Watching Disney movie after Disney movie before he had to go home to actually go get a bag to stay overnight. She wasn’t too happy about that, however she was still understanding when Simon needed some time to himself. You were very proud of her when she said “that’s alright! Kinda like me at school, when it’s all loud and stuff!”. Your heart melted when she gave him her soft toy as some company just in case he got lonely while driving.

Even that night when Emilia passed out, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. Half eaten. Head flopped to the side onto your leg while her feet were on Simon’s knee. You ended up taking her to bed while Simon cleaned up, meeting you in your room with a bottle of water and more painkillers for your heavily bruised ribs.

That night, all of you slept like a rock. Even Ghost, surprisingly. Even if he woke up way before everyone, and only got a max of four hours of sleep. But if you were being honest, that’s probably the best you’ve ever seen him. Actually a little more than a walking corpse, but it still made your heart ache when you saw him avoid looking in all the mirrors. Yet, you understood. Hell, you avoid them if you don’t have a shirt on. But that’s easily covered, but your face is almost on full display constantly…

—————

A scream rips through the quiet air of the apartment, gut wrenching and heart pulling. You bolt upright, the firm arm that was once wrapped around your waist is gone, the covers kicked off. Door already slammed open, sobbing echoes down the hallway and the deep hum of an attempt to soothe the sobs. You jump out of bed, beelining for your daughter's room, the small dim light of the nightlight lighting your way.

The wailing wind outside howls, the rumbling growl of the thunder in the distance almost shakes the home, the lightning flashing through the window from behind the curtains. The chilled air slipped in through the single layer windows.

Your daughter Emilia sobs, hands gripping the dark shirt of the man who is cradling her against his chest. His chin resting on the crown of her head, her hair a little messy from her tossing and turning through the night. You rush forward, sitting next to the two, your hand coming to rest on her back, her eyes welled with tears, rimmed with red as she peeks over at you. “Mama…” She whines, her small hands reaching out to you, your heart cries for your daughter. You scoop her up, holding her close as she buries her face into your shoulder, her arms wrapped around your neck. Simon sits next to you, keeping a large hand on Emilia’s back. His once plain expression showing worry, his dark eyes tracing your face.

“You’re okay sweetheart, don’t worry.” You soothe her, rocking slightly as you pull her closer. Simon stands from his seat, placing a quick kiss on the crown of your head and Emilia’s mumbling something about getting a warm drink. You nod, smiling up at the large man.

Emilia’s sobs quiet down, your eyes flicking to the side. The small clock on the bedside table lighting up with a dull pink, neon number’s reading 04:45. You sigh through your nose quietly, pressing your cheek into the top of your daughter's head.

Simon comes back, knocking on the door lightly. A small cup of warm milk - something Emilia normally has before bed - his large hand dwarfing the small mug. You stand from your spot, holding Emilia close, her legs wrapping around your waist. “Thank you…” you quietly thank him, nudging Emilia slightly for her to look up. Her teary eyes locked in on the small cat mug she picked out at a fair a few months ago.

Simon hands her the small cup, his spare hand moving to push the young girl’s messy hair out of her face. “You are one brave kid, Emilia.” Simon states, voice quiet. She smiles as she sips on the warm milk, eyes still rimmed with red.

You make your way back to your room, sitting on the bed. Emilia in your lap with her mug securely in her hands. Simon shuts the door quietly, climbing onto the bed next to the two of you. Simon leans against the headboard, stifling a yawn as he looks over to the alarm clock. He’s been actually sleeping ever since staying a few nights at yours, yet when this happens he won’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night.

—————

After some time, light chatter, storytelling and tucking Emilia in between the two of you. She’s out cold, your hand on her back, her face smushed into Simon’s arm that's acting as her pillow. “She’s out…” Simon whispers, his eyes looking over Emilia’s features. You can see his eyes just over Emilia’s head, a small smile on your face as you nod your head. “No surprise.” You hum, hand rubbing up and down your daughters back. Simon's free hand coming up to lay across yours, he can feel your hand shaking ever so slightly.

He glances over to you, brows furrowed. “Y/N?” He whispers, his hand linking with yours properly. Thumb rubbing against the back of your hand. You sigh quietly, closing your eyes. “Just… Her crying or waking up from a nightmare always scares me… it rattles me.” You whisper, voice barely making a sound. Simon sits up, carefully moving his arm from out of underneath Emilia’s head. He scoops the young girl up, placing her where he was once laying down. Pulling you over slightly, placing himself behind you, arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. His nose nudging the back of your neck, leaving a small kiss, littering them across the back of your shoulders.

“It will forever scare you, she is your daughter.” He mumbles, his breath fanning across your skin. “She is your flesh and blood, her pain is your pain. Her cries will forever hit you in the heart, make you feel the same pain she is feeling.” He states, you sigh. Leaning into him, turning your head to look at him. “Thank you Simon… for everything.” You whisper, he presses his forehead against yours. Eyes closing with a heavy breath. “Don’t mention it, now sleep. You need it.” He states, leaving a small kiss on your lips. You smile, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. Still not used to getting this sort of affection after so long of being on your own.

——————

Today was not anyone’s day, well in your house it wasn’t. Last night Emilia had another scary dream, three nights in a row now. First time you thought it was just the bad weather outside, Simon even agreed with you. The second night, you thought it was probably just the fact she was a little antsy because of the spelling bee that was the next morning. But last night, there was no plausible explanation as to why she would be scared, nervous or anxious about anything. You even called Simon about it, to see if you were just being over dramatic or not. He said you weren't, and suggested for you to take the day to do something to get your mind off it.

So… Today was the day you were taking her to a playdate with a friend, you would go out and do some shopping for Christmas in a few months, which to your dismay was quickly turning into a few weeks.

Which leads you to where you are now, standing in an aisle of the store, with the one god damn shopping cart with a stiff and squeaky wheel. To add to your agitation, there was a baby crying on the far side of the store, which you swear sounded like it was coming from right next to you.

Starbucks fucked up your order, you played it off like it was nothing but on the inside, you were cursing them out like it was a boxing match with verbal insults. Your car was low on petrol, so you had to dig around for spare cash to be able to just buy the fuel without breaking into your savings… which doesn’t have a lot in it to begin with… and to just add the sweet ol’ cherry of making your day even worse….

You got your period.

So with this whole mixing pot of shit, you are now staring down boxes of fake Christmas trees. With one question in mind. Snow or not to Snow? Yes it’s winter, it’s snowing outside, yes you could get a fake tree, with fake snow. Sounds stupid. But this year is the very first year you’ll be spending Christmas with a new person. Simon. He’s luckily not being deployed these holidays, which you were happy about. Because Emilia practically begged for him to join you guys, he was unsure at the start. Still a little hesitant now, but is still going to come.

All years before this one you had just a small christmas tree, tucked away in the corner. Half the time you went to another family member’s place, but this year they are going on a family trip… which you can’t attend due to limited money…. PERFECT family am I right… fuck them.

But you wanted to make it memorable no matter what, so here you are.

You pick up the box with the tree that has built in lights. “Fuck the snow, fuck the lights. I ain’t untangling them. Fuck this, why am I here. I wanna be sick.” You mumble, trying to put the box in the cart but it’s not fitting in. You push it, tug it, shove it. Eventually hitting it with a frustrated shout.

Your chest tightens, throat closing up as you crouch down. You grip at your hair, tears stinging your eyes as you just feel so…

“Hey, Hey, Hey… Y/N, look at me.” A voice cuts through your rushing thoughts, hands on your shoulders.

Your head snaps up, blurry vision as you try to focus on the person in front of you.

“Look at me Love, you’re okay. Just breathe… look at me.”

“Simon?…”

“Yes, it’s me. Just breathe, I need you to breathe. You’re hyperventilating. Just focus on your breathing for me.” He says, kneeling in front of you. Making sure you’re looking at him, his face mask being a good substitute for the balaclava. A black cap accompanies it.

You suck in a breath, it hurts, not as much as just before. But it still does, your throat still feels tight. Palms sweating, eyes stinging. It feels like your whole body is just wound tight, like a coil. Almost like a snake ready to strike, it was bound to happen. You close your eyes, listening to Simon talk, he’s guiding you through this battle, a battle of emotions.

Simon happened to need to get a few last minute things before he came around to yours tonight, aka buy all the things he knows you’ll probably want. He knew just by the sound of your voice over the phone that something was up, more than just Emilia’s sleeping problem. It was when he just happened to spot a blanket, one that you’ve been eyeing for a while. A big cosy weighted one to go on the couch, while he was looking at it he heard your shout of frustration. He immediately recognised it, he was rounding the corner into the aisle when he saw you crouch down. Tears spilling over onto your cheeks, he knew you were frustrated…

But god, he didn’t realise it had gotten this bad.

“Y/N, look at me darling. Talk to me, what do you see? Tell me.” He instructs, waiting for your answer to the question, may sound silly but it is a good way to get anyone who is having a panic attack, PTSD episode or simply just overwhelmed to calm their breathing and rushing thoughts.

“I see… Y-You.. I see you, and the stupid fucking shopping cart.” You huff out the end of your sentence, Simon letting out a light chuckle. “Squeaky wheel?” You simply nod at his query, letting out a huff of air as you wipe your eyes. Next thing you know, is your body being hoisted up from under your arms, you look up at the large lieutenant. “Now, what else do you need other than… whatever the fuck is in your cart?” He asks, peering into the shopping cart.

Apart from the box of the christmas tree, there’s a roll of wrapping paper, a box of some new Christmas decorations. A lot of colours mashed into one cart, and there lays the list, sitting on top of your side bag. Three things ticked off the unnervingly large list. Simon picks up the list, stepping back over to you, glancing up to look around to see if he can spot any signage to give a clue as to where he could find the items.

“I have no clue how I’m going to handle this, I am not in the mood to be here at all.” You sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself, a cramp biting its way through the painkiller you took before you left the house. Simon’s large hand cups your cheek, making you look up at him. “Hey, I’m here. We will do this together, or we can come back another time.” His voice rumbles, sending a shiver down your spine. You simply nod, lips pulling into a thin line. “Thank you…” Simon shakes his head, thumb rubbing against your cheek. “Quit thanking me, alright?” He states, pulling you into his side.

“Now, should we start with the new clothes for Emilia?” His voice held a happier tone to it, only ever so slightly.

—————

“Simon you really didn’t have to, I could’ve paid for it.”

“No.”

“Simon…. Please at least let me pay you back somehow.”

“No.”

You sit there with a pout, creased brows and hands motion in a ‘huh??’ Expression. He just paid for the whole Christmas shopping, he even went back in after you loaded up the car with a bag in hand. Keeping it away from you so you can’t see into it, which you didn't push to look into but still it caught your curiosity.

“Now I feel guilty… that was a lot of money.” You state, looking down as you pick at the stitching of your jacket. Simon is driving, he walked to the store because he doesn’t own a car. Well he did, but swapped out for a bike so he has an excuse to not leave his flat as often. Which is why you are the one mainly driving everywhere. “Don’t feel guilty, your payment to me is just being happy.” He states, making your cheeks warm at his words.

*He what? Nah surely I heard him wrong, right? What does he mean by that, that can’t be a payment. I may seem happy but I’m just putting on an act… well I was… still am… I think?*

“God you’re cheesy” you mumble with a small laugh, Simon chuckles as he starts the car.

—————

The muffled steps of running breaks your calm, you place your book down and look towards the front door. The jingle of keys and the opening of the door sounds out, Simon holds the door open as Emilia runs inside. Cheeks rosy from the chilled air, and by the sounds of it, running down the walkway outside to get to the apartment.

“MAMA! Look what Papa got me!” Your heart stops, blood chilling as you stare wide eyed at your young daughter. She’s distracted by kicking off her boots by the door and throwing her jacket onto the hook to notice both the adults that are present freeze.

Everything seems to go in slow motion, your eyes moving up to meet Simon. He just managed to close the door when your daughter called him the title of Father. Your heart is thumping loudly in your ears, hands shaking as you move to sit up right. Simon just stares back at you, face neutral as usual but still his eyes are flooding with emotion. He places the bag down on the ground, toeing his boots off mindlessly.

You’re snatched from your trance by your daughter jumping onto the couch with a small box in her hands. You shake your head lightly, your mind still in a mess as you try still your shaky hands. “What did Simon get you Pumpkin?” You ask, trying to ignore the fact she just called your…. Boyfriend? No… you haven’t agreed on that… Your situationship… her father. You’ll talk to the man in question later, when Emilia is either asleep or occupied watching the TV.

Simon just stands by the door, heart beating so loudly he thought it might as well have broken through his ribs and be on a speaker for the world to hear. His chest is tight, it's warm but still it hurts. Almost suffocating, he’s touched by the name but still, there’s that nagging. Tugging, almost ripping, feeling clawing at his thoughts.

*No, I can’t… She’s just young, she doesn’t understand what it means. Just ignore it, push it aside like you always do. Like leaving for a mission, drown these stupid fucking feelings and forget about them… like you always do, so easily… like always… so easily…*

His body was moving on its own, placing the items he got in the kitchen and putting them away. Muscle memory, he swallows thickly as the words race around his mind again. ‘Fucking stop it, Simon…’ he curses to himself. He leans on the countertop, glancing up to spot you smiling. Emilia smiling back up at you, joyful as always. You are practically glowing in his eyes, not just you.

No, both of you.

Both you and your daughter are like the sun, shining so brightly and warming in his cold and dark life it makes it almost impossible for him to slink back into the darkness. To drown himself in Jack Daniels while sitting slumped back at his flat, that's cold and dark… practically empty and dusty. He’s barely stepped foot in it when he returns after the few missions he’s been on since that one with you 6 months ago. God, he can’t even stand staying there because of how just… miserable it makes him feel when he isn’t with you and your daughter. You have managed to light up all the dark and dingy cracks in his life in the span of mere months, hell he practically survives off your presence when he’s not at base.

If he was to actually pay attention to what his body says when he leaves for a mission, he will realise it is sad, in pain. He would find it difficult to leave you and Emilia if he didn’t push the emotions aside and just got on with it….

You meet his eyes, smiling at him. That goddamn smile… the same one your daughter has and willingly gives… yet he can tell yours is from years of pain and hardship but finally, your light is shining through and it's not only affecting him in good ways but also you.

—————

It’s been a few weeks since your daughter called Simon “Papa.” That night you were planning on talking to Simon, but you didn’t end up getting the chance. You passed out on the couch with Emilia, the painkillers for your cramps make you drowsy, so in turn. You were out cold when it was bedtime for your daughter. Simon ended up carrying both of you to your respective beds, you were out like a light, just like your daughter. “Like Mother, Like Daughter” he quietly joked when he saw you both asleep.

You tried to talk to him throughout the few weeks but things just kept getting in the way, or you forgot about it, or even he was at base for work.

Then the worst thing you could think of could happen just before Christmas, the flu. Emilia is curled up on the couch, breathing heavily in her sleep. You’re quietly picking up the dirty tissues from around the couch, carefully picking one up that’s clasped in her hand. You knew something was up, she woke up yesterday with a headache, feeling warm. You suspected it was just a cold, so you let her stay home. Today was supposed to be the last day of school, she was so excited for it as she would’ve gotten to have a shared lunch.

You dump the dirty tissues into the bin, grabbing some cleaner and a rag. Wiping down all the surfaces to try keep the flu off most surfaces, if you were honest with yourself. Your efforts are working but not as much as you wished. You’ve been fighting a head cold all morning, chugging water and a few pills to hopefully clear up your sinuses, to no avail.

You tip the bowl of half eaten soup down the drain, rinsing it out before placing it in the dishwasher. You lean on the counter, rubbing your temples. Groaning quietly as you feel like your head is a bag of sand, the ticking of the clock on the wall sounding ungodly to your ears. Loud and irritating. Then an ear piercing knock hit the door, it sounds deafening to you, yet you know it was a gentle knock.

You make your way to the door, opening it and cringing away from the light. “You might wanna go back to Base… Emilia has the Flu and I have… whatever the fuck I have.” You grumble, noticing it’s Simon. “Yeah right, like I’m going to leave you alone after being gone for nearly a week.” He states, pushing the door open more and nudging you to the side. His hand immediately pressed against your forehead.

His hand is cold against your forehead, you start leaning into it as it soothes the throbbing. “You’re burning up, fucking hell. Go sit down.” He instructs, you wave him off, grumbling something he doesn’t catch.

“Y/N… go sit down.” He grunts, leaving the bag of things on the counter. You flip him off, ignoring his gaze and words as you go about folding laundry that’s on the table. “I’m fine, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” You pause, feeling yourself waver, the world starts to spin. The feelings of your stomach knotting fills you, your throat burns. You drop the shirt and sprint to the bathroom, sliding down on your knees, leaning on the toilet bowl.

Simon is right behind you, holding your hair out of your face, hand rubbing your back soothingly. Tears burn your eyes. You hate being sick, because you end up crying. You don’t know why, but you’ve always done it, it’s not like it hurts or anything. You just don’t like it, it’s just a wave of emotion that hits you as well as vomiting up whatever is in your stomachs. Your hands clench the edges of the porcelain surface, gagging as your shoulders shake.

“Breathe, Y/N you need to breathe.”

The timbre of Simon's voice cuts through your rushing head, you didn’t even notice that you’re breathing quickly. Almost hyperventilating. Of course you are, why wouldn’t you be? You’re fucking crying.

“Love, breathe. Focus on me, not anything else, just me.” He says, voice soft but still commanding.

‘You can turn a civilian into a lieutenant but never turn a lieutenant into a civilian.’ Or something, you aren’t sure you just know whatever Price once said is about a soldier never losing their commanding voice even if in a civilian uniform.

You sit back, a damp cloth being placed in your hand. You wipe your mouth, tilting your head up at the ceiling with closed eyes as you flush the toilet, the taste of stomach acid tainting the back of your throat, coating your tongue.

That alone almost sends you into another gagging mess.

“That’s it, breathe. You’re okay…” you simply nod as you listen to Simon. Tears still staining your cheeks, you blink your eyes open.

The sound of running water fills the room, the sound of a plastic lid being flipped open breaks through the rushing water. You glance over, the tub being filled with water, Hot? Warm? Cold? You don’t know, you just know you see Simon rustling around with a bag of sorts along with what looks like a soap bottle.

Epsom Salts. Salts to relax your body and give you an energy boost, allegedly.

“What are you doing?” You mumble, shifting to lean onto the side of the bathtub. Hand dipping into the water, it’s hot but not too hot. It’s nice.

“Running you a bath, gotta get you to relax and give you energy.” Simon's voice rumbles, sending a calm wash through you. You just hum, pressing your forehead into the cold porcelain on the edge.

Hands run across your back, slipping around to your front pulling you gently to look up at Simon.

“Get undressed and get in, I’ll be back okay?” He states, helping you stand to sit on the toilet, flicking the lid down. You give him a thumbs up, yawning as you drag your shirt over your head.

You hear hushed voices from outside the door, a small whine of protest and a breathy chuckle.

“Well your mum needs to rest, she’s not feeling too well. Like you.” Simon’s voice mumbles, soft and low to not break the quiet air too much. He scoops Emilia up in his arms, keeping her snug in the cocoon of a blanket. “Can I see Mama?” She sniffles, her stuffy nose making it harder to breathe. “I’m sure she won’t mind, but you’re off to bed straight after. Deal?” “Deal!” Simon smiles down at her, his arms holding her close.

He quietly walks towards the bathroom, pushing the door open. He notices the lights are off and a few candles are lit, smelling lavender. “Love?” The man asks, peering around the door. “You can come in.” You chuckle lightly, leaning onto your arms on the side of the tub. Simon steps in, crouching down next to you with Emilia, she’s already reaching out to you.

Her hands resting on your cheeks, something she’s always done, especially when one of you is sick. You have no clue where she picked it up from, she would normally press her forehead against yours but you’ve warned her about doing it if one of you is sick. She’s a smart kid.

“Hey sweetie.” You smile, placing a hand over hers. “Are you okay? Papa said you’re sick, like me.” She asks, you can see tears starting to well in her eyes. Heart swelling with emotions, still noticing she called Simon papa again. “Aww. Pumpkin, it’s just a tummy bug. That’s all, I’ll be healthy as a horse in no time. But, we’ll both get better quicker if we both rest.” You state, brushing your fingers through her hair. Trying to tame her wild hair.

“So… Simon is gonna take you to bed, alright? I know it’s a bit early, but it’s to help us both get better okay?” Emilia nods her head, quickly pulling away to cough into her elbow. It sounds painful, both you and Simon grimace a little at her strained lungs.

“Sleep well my darling.” You smile, running a thumb over her cheek. “Night Night Mama.” She smiles, sniffling. Turning back to hide in the blanket, tucking herself deep in Simon’s arms.

———

You sit there in the hot water, focusing on your breathing. The scent of the candles wafting through the air, the warmth of the water relaxing your muscles. You smile gently to yourself, honestly surprised, A little flustered, but mainly grateful for Simon and what he has done. Yet you’re a little nervous that he may get sick himself, and if you know him well enough he will just brush it off and continue to go about life as he normally does.

You’re beyond happy that Emilia has taken a shine to him, as if she wouldn’t. But you’re a little bit surprised? Maybe… that Simon has so easily been able to slip into almost a domesticated world without being overwhelmed by all of it. Sure he has his days, everyone does, especially people like him. You’re happy he’s your boyfriend - wait, no. You haven’t figured that out yet. Friend with benefits? No that sounds harsh and crude, really good friend that you’re happy to share a bed with and let him kiss you occasionally? No, the title is too long. Situationship? Maybe, you’ll ask him about it. Especially since Emilia called him Papa again, something you have yet to tick off your mental list of shit to talk to her about.

Simon shuts Emilia’s door quietly, walking back towards the bathroom. Knocking on the doorframe, hearing you mumble a quiet ‘come in’. He steps into the tiled room, coming to crouch down next to you. Knees almost clicking, causing him to hide a grimace.

“How’re you feeling?” His voice rumbles, quiet to not cause any headache to ensue. You shrug, leaning on your arms again on the edge of the bath, bubbles popping quietly on the surface of the water. “Better… calm. A little tired but still awake enough to talk to you.” You smile, your cheek pressed against your arm.

“Good. I just want you to relax, you’ve had a shitty week. You both have.” He vaguely motions in the direction of Emilia’s room. He notices how your eyebrows are set, furrowed gently, barely noticeable. You’re thinking.

“What’s on yer’ mind?” He asks, adjusting to sit on the floor properly.

“You”

“Me?”

You nod your head, leaning back a little. You notice his eyes aren’t leaving your face. He’s trying to figure out what you mean, you sigh, sinking lower into the water, below the dying bubbles.

“It's about what Emilia said…” your voice trails off, Simon tilts his head, throat going dry. He knows what you are talking about, he’s just anxious? Uneasy, feeling unwell almost.

“Is it because she called me her father?” He asks quietly, watching you look over at him. Nodding, your lips pulled into a thin line.

“Yeah, I want to say I’m sorry. I should be telling her you aren’t her father and that you and I… we aren't officially together, what are we? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Are we a situationship? Friends with benefits? What do-” you ramble, brain going a million miles a minute. Almost making you breathless, chest tight with trying to figure out what you two are.

“What do you want us to be?” Your words die in your throat when you hear him ask the question, you look at him. Tracing his features with your eyes, his scars, ruffled hair from wearing a hat all day. His stubbled jaw, which is clenched, you can see it.

“… I don’t know…”

Simon nods his head, he had a feeling you would be unsure.

He’s even unsure on what he wants you to be to him, he wants you in his life and Emilia. His fingers twitch to move, to hold you close. He sighs, looking down at the tiled floor, shifting in his spot as he looks back up at you. He sees your eyes unfocused, he knows that look. Always the same, no matter what. You’re thinking.

“I want you to be in my life Simon, I want you to be in my daughter's life…” you pause briefly. “You have become such a big part of it in such a short time. You understand the struggles I go through, even though you aren’t a parent. But you understand that this is hard, and you’ve been there for me for the entire time you’ve been here…” you state, looking at him.

“I want you here Simon… I want you to be a part of this family. Only if you want to.”

Simon’s world slows, your words repeating themselves like a record. His chest tightens, muscles constrict and relax. His eyes dart between yours, to your lips then back to your eyes. The same eyes he’s seen tears in, creased at the edges from laughter or blown out in the dark room to see him as much as they could.

“I want to.”

Your lips part, looking at him. “I-… Uh.. I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want-” “I want to be with you Y/N. I want to be able to call being with you, home. come back to this apartment and see both you and Emilia.” He cuts you off, knowing you would try to spill all the regret you may have towards the matter.

His hand tilts your chin up to look at him, his eyes soft. Fingers gentle against your skin as he moves his hand to where your shoulder and neck meet.

“I would do anything to call you mine, to say that I have someone at home waiting. I want to be able to be here for you, help you through all the shit you have on. I don’t care if I have to stay up late, making sure Emilia is sleeping while you try to sleep yourself.” He pauses, smiling gently.

“I want to be here for you to lean on me, to cry to me if you need, scream at me cause you’re frustrated, punch me because you’re angry. I want to be here to laugh at some silly joke Emilia comes home with from school, or help her with school projects… granted I’m not the most artistic person out there…” you chuckle at his words, leaning into his hand.

“I want to call you mine… and I want to be yours if you would give me the honour of allowing me to be.” His voice is firm, but soft and earnest.

You nod your head, biting your lip as a tear falls down your cheek. “Of course…” you sniffle, laughing to yourself for how silly you must look. “God I must look pathetic.” You mumble, Simon just shakes his head, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“You don’t look pathetic… You are as stunning as always… despite the bed hair.” He teases lightly, you just laugh. Grasping his wrist, leaning into his hand.

“You’re an asshole…” he just shrugs, leaning in. “But you like it, cause that means you can be an asshole back…” he muses, you just sigh, shaking your head. “Yeah yeah. Whatever you say Lieutenant.” A sly smile spreads across your lips, it quickly dies as Simon closes the gap between you.

His lips are firm, passionate, confident but also gentle and loving. You can feel the emotion behind the kiss, his hand cupping your cheek, his other hand dipping into the water. Sliding down your back as you lift your arms, wrapping them around his shoulders. He chuckles against your lips, mumbling “Don’t drag me in there, Love.” You smile, pulling back to look at him. “I’m not that cruel.” You smirk, running a hand through his short cut hair, nails scratching his scalp lightly, a shiver running down his back.

You scoop up some bubbles in your free hand, blowing them into his face. His once raised brows drop, the small smirk gone. He flutters his eyes open, staring at you.

“Really?”

“Really.”

TAGLIST: @grandnuttrash @thesnailus (Idk if this worked)

#fanfic #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #female reader #x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x female reader #lieutenant ghost #simon riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty fanfic

[joenotexotic99]

Hi honey, I have to say I love your stuff. You write absolutely great. Could you do a headcannon on BoB and what type of love would you give them? I mean love at first sight, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, etc. I'd be happiest with Winters and Nixon and Speirs, but do what you will. Thank you.

A/n: here you go my love. When I finally re read the request I realized you might have wanted the pov's reversed but it was too late. Hopefully it's not too bad. I will happily switch it to reader pov if you wish.

Warnings:fluff

Masterlist

Richard winters

-friends to lovers. I don't think that this man thought of romance when he first met you. Attractive? Most definitely. However he had bigger things preoccupying his mind. Yet somehow at some point, you wiggled your way to being one of his best friends. Don't tell nix. Something about you practically scrambled his brain. He doesn't know when in the friendship he fell or if he fell in the very beginning. But when he realized just how much he loved you it was like he jumped off a cliff without a parachute. He knew right then and there you were it for him. He probably felt nervous telling you due to the fact that he never gave off the impression that he likes you. But let's just say the feelings were reciprocated.

"Dick, I have been flirting with you this whole time."

"Really??"

Lewis nixon

- love at first sight. This man took one look at you and said yes. He may not immediately start flirting with you out of respect, but he will damn well be tied to your finger. Will always open doors for you, and give you his coat when you're cold. So many acts of services. At one point you two were at a bar and some private made his way to your side to start a flirty conversation where he swears he got to hands'y. He knew that you were single but he was extremely jealous nonetheless. Eventually he had to leave to get some air. You followed shortly to catch up with him. You confronted him asking what has gotten into him as of late. He never wanted it to come out like this but it sort of just spilled out of him. He rambled on about his feelings before you cut him off with a kiss and a huge grin on your face.

"Shut up nix and take me on a date"

Ronald speirs

-Distance attraction, I don't know what to call it, this is the closest I can get. It just feels right. Basically, Speirs isn't quite love at first sight, he's the guy who needs to really get to know you to start building a relationship like that. However this man has a MASSIVE crush on you. But he's too prideful to say anything seeing how simping for someone isn't exactly in Ron's profile. He just admires you from a distance while simultaneously stuffing his emotions deep down. Much better in his book. Yet he still does his very best to be by your side at every moment possible even though he spends a lot of time trying not to think about how perfect you are. It's you who makes the first move. You obviously like him and you know he does too. It's obvious to everyone but no-one sais a single word. And before you can finish telling him if he wants to go out some time he's already agreeing.

"Yes"

"What?"

"You free Friday?"

Carwood lipton

-childhood friends to lovers. He was the boy next door. You two were friends from first grade through college. Sharing secrets, sleepovers, getting into mischief. Car started crushing on you when you two were teenagers. Said crush continued all the way until you two volunteer to join the paratroopers. War was hell but you seemed to make it just a little bit more manageable. His life in the war picked up significantly and he had a freight train worth of responsibility placed on his shoulders. Yet you never left his side. It wasn't until Austria that he confessed his feelings. He almost felt sick when he told you in fear of losing his best friend. It was short sweet at straight to the point. You were silent for what felt like an eternity. Lip almost took off in fear of rejection. He was stopped in his tracks by the sound of your laughter. He turned to hear you laughing with the biggest smile on your face.

"Clifford carwood Lipton, do you know how long I've been waiting for those words"

Joseph Leibgott

-Enemies to lovers. Your relationship started off Rocky. Your personality clashed and having a civilized conversation was seemingly impossible. Every time your paths crossed it was filled with banter, insults and tension. Sometimes it got to the point where someone needed to intervene. When you would walk into the same room that Joe would be in it's like the air seemed to thicken. The cold stares and passive aggressive comments. As the war progressed your comments never faulted but the tension you ask? It could be felt by an entire room. And all that hate seemed to not leave as bad as a taste in your mouth. Joe knew from the start that he hated and loved you. You know the type of enemies to lovers where it's like 'she's mine' and 'who did this to you?' It's giving that. He got so fed up with replacements trying to whisk you away so he simply grabbed you by the waist and kissed you.

"Don't lever leave with one of them alright sweetheart?"

"Wasn't planning on it"

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers x reader #richard winters #lewis nixon #ronald speirs #carwood lipton #joe liebgott #richard winters x reader #lewis nixon x reader #carwood lipton x reader #joseph liebgott x reader

[clemswinecorner]

Small world [Clément Novalak]

Summary: Picking up your cousin from the club ends a little different then you expected… It’s a small world.

Wordcount: 2.9k

Warnings: They’re in the club, mentions of a toxic relationship and cheating (not y/n and clem), sexual implications

It has taken me too long to write a Clem fic, I’m glad it’s finally here!! Especially considering my username is literally clemswinecorner😐😐 Added in a waaaay more dramatic storyline then necessary cause I didn’t know how to end it whoops, but enjoy! For the Clem girlies (but especially Chloe and Yana)🫶🏼🫶🏼

Bit shit formatting because this is posted from my phone, will be fixed asap!

Main Masterlist

“Paris, I’m seeing your brothers Monday, I really don’t think I need to see them right now,” Paris, although you can’t see, rolls her eyes as she looks back at you. “They’re right over there, c’mon!” She yells, trying to be heard over the music. Before you know it you’re standing in front of a table at the back of a club. “Y/N, hey, what are you doing here?!” Despite not wanting to be there, you still smile at your cousin who pulls you into a hug. “I was supposed to pick up Paris and she dragged me inside. It’s good to see you though, it’s been too long,” Marcus laughs at his sisters ways as you briefly hug your oldest cousin, James, and his girlfriend. You saw the both of them just the other day, since you live on the same of London, but you hadn’t seen Marcus since you were both in New Zealand to celebrate New Year’s a few months ago. “Oh, that’s Juan, Franky and Emmy by the way, and you’ve met James and Alice. Do you want a drink? Our other friend Clem is getting some already, I can text him,” You smile as you look at Paris next to you, talking animatedly to her older brother. “No, thanks, I’m taking Paris home. C’mon, let’s get you home,” Paris pouts as you put your arm around here. “Noooo but I want to stayyyyy,” you sigh as you look at her. “You called me to pick you up because you wanted to leave, Pari, let’s go now. I made your bed with the Mickey bedsheets you love,” her eyes light up at the mention of her favourite bedsheets, but quickly get distracted again as someone hands her a drink that looks like coke (but most likely holds alcohol). Marcus sends you a sympathetic smile, as you sigh. “Clem’s getting more drinks, you could follow him to the bar, it’s not too busy there if you walk past the bathrooms there and keep right. Smiley guy, dark hair, slight beard, wearing glasses -fake ones- and i think a striped button up. Just tell him to put it with mine and Paris’ drinks when he sends me a payment request, I’ll try and get Paris ready to leave,” you give him a thankful smile as you start to make your way back through the crowd.

At the bar you don’t see anyone looking like the description Marcus gave you. There was a guy in a white button up -which looked extremely good on him- but it wasn’t striped nor was he wearing glasses. You take a seat, figuring the friend was probably at the bathroom. You glance at the handsome guy, currently chatting away with the bartender until he walks to the other side of the bar to prepare a few drinks. The handsome man moves closer to you, though he still keeps a respectable distance. “You havin’ fun here? Or just want to get steamed?” He speaks up, revealing a somewhat British accent. You chuckle at his choice of words- similar to your cousin’s. “Oh i’m just, you know, in the club, at the bar,” he raises his eyebrows, “ah, yes, as one is. Not a club person then?” He slowly moves closer, and though you weren’t in the mood to talk, you still found herself in a conversation with him.

“Hey, do you want to get back there, dance around?” You’ve naturally moved closer to each other, your arms touching as he swirls his drink- whatever cocktail. You bite your lip- you really weren’t the most social person (it was honestly a surprise you even considered dancing with him), looking down into your glass, previously filled with a coke, in consideration. “I was supposed to get these and some more to my friends, we can walk by them, sit there if you’d prefer?” He adds on, noticing how you weren’t very enthusiastic. “I think you should go back to your friends, enjoy your time with them together. I’ve probably held you back,” you smile lightly, as you sit up straighter, suddenly hyper aware of how close you are. “No, no, I want to spend time with you. I’ve gone out with them dozens of times. Unless you don’t want to be there with me and get back to your cousin, that’s also completely fine, sorry if you felt like you needed to stay in this conversation,” you quickly shake your head, putting your hand on top of his arm. “No, I like this. It doesn’t really happen that I actually like spending time with a stranger like this, usually I’d be trying to get home and watch a movie,” he chuckles as you subconsciously move your face closer to his. “I’m glad you like my company, then,” he smiles as his eyes flickers down to your lips. “I don’t, Clément, I just did it for the french and the drinks, obviously,” you joke and he laughs, his head falling forward. He looks up with a genuine smile, leaning forward and soon enough your lips touch. You weren’t sure who started the kiss, but it was better than most kisses you had (the best one so far, you’d even say). He knew just what the right moves and pace were and you were on the same wavelength the entire kiss, not wanting to pull back. Oh well, his friends were already waiting, what would those extra minutes be?

“Hey, I really like this, I do, but I would also love to dance with you. Plus, my friends are probably wondering where I wandered off too,” He whispers with your faces still only inches away from eachother- as far as whispering goes in a club. “They’re not used to you running off with random girls you’ve pulled your charm on?” He chuckles and looks down, contemplating his response. “Just the pretty ones. Nah, not really, my ex girlfriend and I broke up about 9 months ago, she did quite a number on me if i’m honest. I’ve been getting time to myself and friends even here, I have barely been with anyone, I only just got somewhat back to, you know, messing around last month. My friends don’t really know though, if I told them I was ready for something they’d push me towards anyone attractive in a 10km radius,” you laugh at the last comment, relating to the last part a bit too much- your friends also tried to get you with whoever was even remotely attractive. “So, what are you ready for, right now? Just so we’re both clear on that, because anything goes for me,” he shrugs in response. “I’m not really sure. I just wanted to keep things unattached, casual at best but I kind of really like you,” You smile his answer. “We can just dance around, see what happens tonight, maybe explore more of this if we feel like it tomorrow,” He nods, before he tenderly kisses you again with a smile.

“It’s not too much people, and you can keep your distance. It’s mostly my friends, their siblings, girlfriends. You don’t have to be introduced to them if you don’t want to, I can just drop the drinks off and we can dance. If the dance floor gets too crowded just say the word and we can get to some other place,” He whispers against your ear, making you blush “Actually, I kind of have to go to the bathroom. You get those to your friends, I’ll meet you on the dance floor?” Clem shakes his head, “meet me between the men’s and women’s. Don’t want to lose you,” you nod as you go separate ways. The music playing was nice, you realised as you went onto the dance floor, Clem’s hand in yours. You danced around for a short while, though it only took about half an hour before you both gave up trying to stay civil, deciding to go to Clem’s apartment. You had quickly texted Paris as you walked your way out, the people you came for soon forgotten.

It wasn’t until about an hour and half later, when you were sitting in his bed leaning against his headboard, drinking a glass of wine that Clem got a call. You’d settled under the sheets, Clem only wearing his underwear and you wearing your panties and his shirt. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, which you didn’t mind (you found out he looked very good without a shirt). “Ah shit, I have to take this, I didn’t tell anyone I left and it’s my mate,” you quickly motioned for him to go ahead, and he put the phone to his ear.

“Hey, where are you?” Clem hears his best friend ask. “Sorry, I left already, forgot to tell you. I’m at home now,” He simply answers, playing with your hand as you sip your wine. “Ah, okay. D’you know if my cousin went home too?” You see a surprised look on Clem’s face, “Your cousin?” He looks at you surprised as Marcus answers. “Yeah, Y/N. She was supposed to go to you at the bar.” He raises his eyebrows at you, saying “Oh, yeah, yeah, Y/N, I saw her get into her car safely, don’t worry.” You nod as you realise he was, in fact, Marcus friend you’d been looking for, quickly showing him your texts to Paris. “She texted Paris as well, I thought you knew she left,” He says casually, before they finish off the call and say goodbye, making plans for the next time they’d meet. “Alright, I’ll see you Friday. Bye Marcus, love you too mate,” You raise your eyebrows as he ends the call. “You’re Marcus’ friend?!” You simply ask, a hint of surprise in your tone. “Small world. Though you do not sound as shocked as you should be. I didn’t even know Marcus’ cousin was with us tonight?” You chuckle at his surprise. “I was picking up Paris and then she didn’t want to leave so Marcus sent me to you- for the record, to his friend, I did not know you were his friend because Marcus did not give an accurate description,” Clem laughs, “that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest,” he agrees.

Clem breaks the comfortable silence that fell first. “Are you- Do you want Marcus to know about, eh,” he carefully considers his words, “are we going to tell him this happened? Happens, or whatever’s next,” You study him as he asks the question, but nothing gives away how he feels. “I mean… Do you want him to know? I like you, and I would love to see where this goes, like, romantically or even physically, if we realize that works better. It depends on what you want from me,” Clem nods, grabbing your hand in his (though they were already practically on top of each other). “Yeah, me too. I’d like to hang out with you, ‘date’ or whatever it’d be called. Just… Do I get to kiss you still,” you jokingly roll your eyes with a smile as he pulls you towards you. “I guess you do, Mr Novalak,” he raises his eyebrows, “we’re on last name basis now? Did you stalk my instagram or what?” You chuckle in response. “I pay attention to my cousin’s life and stories sometimes,” you smile, which makes him laugh. “Hey, but if you don’t really want to tell your friends you’re dating, that’s okay. I don’t mind keeping it just us,” He smiles before he leans down to kiss you. “Thank you. It’s not that I don’t want to show you to them, you know that though, right? Just want to go at my own pace,” you nod, “I know.” You softly kiss him before he pulls back to cuddle. “So, now that neither of us have to inform people of our whereabouts, how about you take a shower, order food, watch a movie?” You smile, you were always in the mood for a late night snack. “If you can help me with the shower it sounds like a plan.” You smirk as you get out of the bed. “Alright, alright. Can you grab some towels from that closet? I’ll get the shower ready,” you nod as you do as you’re told, putting them in the bathroom when you’re done. Clem’s already in the shower as you take off your clothes and get in. “What’s taken you so long?” You jokingly roll your eyes before kissing him.

Around 11 AM you and Clem freeze in your kiss as the two of you hear rushed knocks on coming from his front door. “I’ll check that out,” Clem says and you nod as he gets out of bed, quickly putting on a shirt. Luckily you were both still wearing pants and your shirt was still on, if whoever’s at the door wants to walk into the bedroom. “Hi, mate, I’m kind of bu-“ Clem stop his sentence halfway as Marcus walks into the living room distressed. “Dude, are you okay? What’s up, did something happen?” Clem asks as he sits him down on the couch. You move out of the bed as well, recognizing your cousin’s voice. “No. Yes. I. I’m fine I just need to talk to someone. Last night, eh, Paris, I, shit, Clem,” You stand in the doorway of Clem’s bedroom, seeing Clem crouched in front of Marcus. You make eye contact with Clem, and wether you should keep listening or not. You decide yes, since you’d hear about it one way or another if it was about Paris. “Marcus, breathe. Is she okay?” Marcus takes hasty breaths and nods, “yes, she’s fine, uhm… Mate, I really don’t know what to do,” Clem looks at you once again, knowing you’d probably be a better help if it concerned his family. You don’t know how to go about it, but luckily Marcus turns around after he sees Clem looking behind him. He notices you and immediately turns back, and you speak up. “Sorry, do you want me to…?” Marcus doesn’t seem to register who’s standing behind him. “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting- wait,” he turns back to you and then to Clem, who gives him a tight-lipped smile. “This is a discussion for later, Marc. Do you want me to go or do you want me to hear?” Marcus stays silent for a moment still staring at you and then tells you to stay.

“When I left my apartment to work out I checked on Paris in the guest bedroom because she would stay at mine, but she was with a guy and it was not her boyfriend. I guess she went home with someone, James and Alice dropped them off before I was there so I didn’t know. I feel horrible and I don’t know if I should tell her actual boyfriend because were kind of mates but I don’t want to break her trust and she should be the one to tell him but either way it’s horrible and-“ Marcus keeps on rambling as you and Clem try to take in all the information. “Marcus, stop. Breathe. First off, I know she’s your little sister, but this is not your doing or responsibility, okay? Nothing you could’ve done,” Clem starts and Marcus nods as you bite your lip deciding wether you should say what you know. “Okay, look, I don’t know if I should say this but you don’t know the full situation, Marc. Their relationship is not as good as it seems and it’s toxic as hell. Paris never told you because she was scared, and she only told me because I found out by accident. You should talk to her, yes, but don’t force her to say or do anything, okay? Just ask her to be honest,” Marcus looks at you as everyone digests what’s just been said. “Okay. I will. Thank you for telling me, Y/N.” You smile at your cousin “of course. Think that’s what best for the both of you.” Its quiet for a few minutes before your phone rings on the table behind Clem. “It’s Paris,” He says, handing you your phone. You take the phone, standing up to go to the bedroom. “I’ll take this, be right back.”

When you come back from the call, Marcus is ready to leave. “Paris woke up a bit ago and told me what happened, I said she should talk to you. Best you don’t mention you were here, though, I think,” Marcus nods, looking more composed then when he arrived. “I won’t. By the way, we also should discuss why you are here. I thought you went home last night?” Clem pushes Marcus to the door, “don’t you have somewhere to be?” making you chuckle. “Like I said, that’s a topic for another time,” you say before hugging him goodbye telling him to keep you updated. He hugs you and Clem, “Yeah, and that time is tonight. We’re having dinner, I’ll text the details. See you tonight, bye!” He leaves no room to argue as he walks out of the door, leaving you and clem stunned. You look at each other as he closes the door. “Well. I guess we have a date tonight?”

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#clement novalak #clement novalak x reader #f2 x reader #formula 2 x reader #f2 #formula 2 #screaming meals #screamingmeals

[roosterbruiser]

𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 — 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 —— 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

—𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒. —𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟕.𝟐𝐊 —𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 —𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐒, 𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟐𝟏𝐒𝐓, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟕

Payback draws the first short straw. His face falters, falls, crumples. His bottom lip trembles and his eyes are wet suddenly. He is just about to take a quivering breath, just about to swallow his pride and beg everyone to let him stay, when Fanboy suddenly squares his jaw. 

“I’ll go,” he says. “I’ll go with him.”

Payback doesn't have the strength to say anything at all. But the urge to beg evades him instantaneously. He claps his hand on his best friend’s shoulder and holds it there for a long time. 

Fanboy’s heart is hammering in his chest. He knows it’s the right thing to do and he almost always does the right thing--even if it makes his stomach sour. 

“Someone should probably go to Paul’s cabin, too--just to…eliminate or whatever,” Phoenix says. She’s trembling. “Maybe he’s still…” 

Bradley glances at you--you won’t even look at him anymore. And Jake still won’t look at you. Fuck. Everything’s fucked up right now. This isn’t how this summer was supposed to go. 

You nod, sighing. 

“Good idea,” you comment softly. You’re staring at your hands. “Someone should go.”

God, there’s so much blood beneath your fingernails. You haven’t been able to wash off at all. Mentally, you’re thinking about everything that needs to be packed in Fanboy and Payback’s packs when they go. But really, you wish you could even just think about washing off. You think even just that would make you feel cleaner. 

“I’ll go,” Bradley volunteers. “Don’t need to draw sticks again.” 

Coyote glances at Bradley--he’s watching you intently as you pick at your fingers and furrow your brows. Then he glances at Jake, who won’t look up from the ground. It’d do the three of you good to have some distance--maybe he can even talk some sense into Bradley if they’re alone together. 

“Me too,” Coyote agrees. “We should get on outta here, though. It’s gonna get dark soon.”

“Right,” Bradley answers. He takes a deep breath. “Let’s boogie.” 

So, now you’re here, standing at the edge of camp before Payback and Fanboy. Jake is in the mess hall with all the campers, guarding the front door with the shotgun. Phoenix hasn’t left Bob’s side once. Coyote and Bradley are trekking through the thick trees to get to Paul’s cabin. 

Fanboy and Payback have their backpacks on--sleeping bags, bandages, rations, water, flashlights, kitchen knives included. They’re each holding an ax, which was your idea, and Coyote gave each of them walkies with an extra battery. 

The sun is beginning to set. Everything is orange and pink as you look at the long and winding path before them, your breath caught in your throat. 

“Got everything?” You ask. 

They nod identically. Payback fiddles with the switch on the flashlight--he can never stop moving when he’s nervous. 

“Got enough food to feed a horse,” Fanboy says. 

You smile small--the dry blood on your face cracks. 

“Didn’t want you to go hungry,” you say softly. 

As if hunger is what’s going to kill them. 

The wind kisses the tips of your nose, your ears. It smells overwhelmingly of iris. All three of you look up towards the trees, the sky. It’s going to be dark very soon. They need to start moving. 

“You believe in monsters, Gale?” Payback asks, hands on his hips. He didn’t until a few hours ago. 

Biting your lip, you nod. 

“Have to in my line of work,” you whisper.

“Think they live under the bed?” Fanboy follows. 

“Sure,” you say with a shrug. “What do you think?” 

Payback pauses, eyes unfocused as he stares past you. 

“I think they’re sneakier than that.” 

A pregnant pause fills the air. You don’t know quite what to say to these men that you’re sending off into the dark night, all the spirits and ghouls and boogeymen hiding behind trees just waiting for them with watering mouths. 

“Two days,” you finally say softly. “Two days and then everything’ll be hunky dory again.” 

You don’t even believe yourself when you say it. 

Fanboy nods. Beads of sweat are rolling down the back of his neck. 

“Yeah,” he says, voice thin. “We’ll be back, okay?”

“With a horde of rescuers,” Payback adds softly. The smile gracing his lips is sad and small. “We’ve probably got a better chance than y’all, huh?” 

Nodding, you shift all your weight to one side. 

“Probably.” 

It doesn’t make any of you feel better to say it. 

Payback clenches his fists--they’re sweaty. He doesn’t want to go. And he doesn’t want to stay, either. He wants to go back home to his girlfriend and her awful tiny dog and eat good barbecue and forget all of this ever happened.

But then he glances at Fanboy and Fanboy is looking at him already, squinting under the sun. And he thinks that he is the most friend-looking creature to ever grace this earth. He thinks that he didn’t stutter at all when he volunteered to come with Payback. And then he feels a little bit better about doing this--about leaving and getting help. 

“We’ll be heroes, right?” Fanboy asks, a mischievous smile tugging on his lips pathetically. 

“Yeah,” Payback answers. Then he glances at you. He knows you feel guilty, but he knows you’re backed in a corner, too. You’re doing what you can--just like him, just like Fanboy. “Hold it down, alright?” 

Choked up on all the apologies and all the grief and all the anger of today and yesterday, you can only nod. Alright, you’ll hold it down. 

“We’ll check in every half hour,” Fanboy says. 

You nod again. You grab his wrist, glance at his watch--it’s a Mickey Mouse watch, one you’re sure was a gag gift given his first name, but that he dons proudly all the same. But then your eyes are watery because you hope you see this watch on this wrist again soon. So, so, so soon. 

“It’s eight now,” you tell them. You let go of Fanboy’s wrist. 

“And we’ll be out of range…shit, like, a couple miles out, I think. So, if we don’t respond…” Payback says. He doesn’t finish his sentence and neither you nor Fanboy jumps at the opportunity to either. 

The three of you just stand there for another moment. It’s getting darker--a lavender light is starting to fall all over camp. Shit. Bradley and Javy still aren’t back from their trek to Paul’s cabin yet. But at least all the campers are back inside the mess hall. 

“Don’t die,” you tell them. 

They nod solemnly. 

“No doy,” Fanboy says. “Ditto.”

And then they turn around, their backpacks bulging, and start to walk away from Camp Arcadia. Just for a moment, as the white rice moon untethers itself from the pink clouds, you wonder if this is the last time you’ll ever see them. 

But then you shake your head and look down because the thought is too vicious to bear. 

Payback’s heart is racing as they start down the path, the trees tall and the cicadas loud. He’s gripping the handle of his ax hard, hard enough that it’s splintering his skin. And he’s taking deep, deep breaths.

“Hey,” Fanboy says because he can practically hear Payback’s heart hammering out of his chest. “Maybe we got out scott-free.” 

“Doesn’t feel that way,” Payback whispers. 

“It will when we get to town and have a couple cold ones,” Fanboy says. “Hopefully everyone else is still alive by then.” 

Finally, when their figures disappear behind the treeline, you turn around and face camp again. The day is fading very fast now. You’ll only just have time to wash yourself off in the lake. 

You don’t bother getting naked--you don’t even bother taking your shoes off. You just walk down the incline of pebbles, the warm water lapping at your ankles and pulling you in until you’re standing on your tip-toes with your chin atop the water. 

How could someplace as Camp Arcadia be so beautiful--the towering trees, the deep green leaves, the cotton candy skies, the white stones, the blue-green water--and so horrifying all together in utter tandem? 

Trying to move quickly, you dunk your head beneath the surface and begin to scrub your scalp. God, it’s so quiet under here beneath the water. The continuous hum of underwater life, the muffled cicadas and crickets, the soft moss-bottom. It’s the quietest it’s been in your head in hours and hours. You wish you could stay here forever, dunked just below the rippling surface. 

Jake watches you go under from the mess hall windows. He’s watching you closely--has been since you escorted Fanboy and Payback to the edge of camp, which looked more like a death march than anything else. Bubbles race to the surface as you exhale and then it all goes still. 

“C’mon, Gale,” he whispers to himself, eyes narrowed. He’s waiting for you to bob back up to the surface, to exhale and wipe your eyes now that they’re clean of blood. “C’mon, baby.” 

He imagines something is wrong--that the killer somehow found you in the lake, as ridiculous and sleep-deprived a thought that is. He imagines blood and bubbles and flesh and you resurfacing just to scream his name before you’re pulled back under. He’s so tired, so scared just thinking about it, that his palms begin to sweat. 

Ignoring all the ruckus of the kids behind him, he stands with his hands firmly on the shotgun. He has half a mind to stomp out there and pull you out of the water, but then you finally come up and oh. You’re fine. Totally and completely fine. 

He glances behind him--everyone is settling in. The kids are playing. Phoenix is with Bob. You’re probably the one that needs the most protection right now, anyway, all alone out there. So, he very quietly slinks out the door and starts for the shore. 

You can hear him coming--somehow, you just know that it’s Jake. Maybe because he likes to get you when you’re alone or maybe because you just know what his footsteps sound like on the gravel. 

But either way, you know he’s there, watching you wash off. 

“Can we talk?” He asks softly. 

“Yeah,” you answer, not looking at him. You’re picking the blood out from under your fingernails. “Go ahead.” 

Jake sighs. He’s thinking about how you yelled at him--how he felt like a kicked dog after. You were right, of course. He needed to calm down, grow up, realize there are bigger things in life than what’s going on between you and Bradley and himself. 

“Listen, I…” he trails, scratching the back of his head. But he can’t think of anything to say. 

“I don’t want to talk about me and you or me and Bradley, alright? So, if that’s your prerogative, then just march on back to the mess hall,” you say. Your tone is even and quiet.

You turn your face so he can see your profile against the dying sky. He’s already looking at you, shirt crumpled and face soft and hair messy. 

“Okay,” he answers. He doesn’t wanna leave you. “Can I sit down?” 

If you weren’t so exhausted, you’d tell him he can do whatever he wants on account of it being a free country. But instead, you nod. You just nod. 

He sits on the rocks with the shotgun across his lap, sniffing and digging his fingers into the soil. 

“Are you pissed?” You ask finally. You aren’t looking at him again, busy scratching blood off your calves.

“About what?” He asks, brows furrowed. 

“That I slept with Bradley,” you whisper. 

“Thought you didn’t wanna talk about it,” he says quietly. 

You shrug, sighing. 

“Changed my mind,” you whisper. “I just…I wanna get on the same page, you know? I feel like I’ve been so confused and everything’s just been so--so…muddled. Best to just get it all out there, right?” 

What you mean is: above it all, all the shit and the gore and the horror, you don’t want Jake to be mad at you. You don’t want to wreck what you had. And you just don’t know what you’re doing. 

“Not pissed,” Jake answers. “Confused, maybe.” 

“Why?” You ask. 

“‘Cause of our night together,” he answers. “I thought things…changed that night.” 

“They did,” you insist, brows furrowed. “I mean, I thought they did.” 

“Then why him?” 

You turn to him and finally, he can look at you. You aren’t slathered in blood anymore. You’re washed off now--as washed off as the lake water can get you.  

“Because you can only look at me when I’m clean.”

Jake swallows hard. He doesn’t want it to be true, but he knows that in your private way, it is. He can’t look at blood and you’ve been covered in it for hours and hours. 

“I can’t help it,” he says. He sounds like he’s pleading. 

“I know,” you answer. Casting your gaze back on the rippling water, you bite your lip. “I know.” 

“Are you…in love with him?” He asks. His heart is in his throat. 

“I’m not in anything with anyone,” you tell him. It’s a half-truth, you think. You could be in love with Bradley easily--very easily. But you’re standing on that edge, your toes just barely breaching the murky air. You won’t fall. You won’t let go. “Are you in love with me?” 

Jake laughs--it’s short and humorless. 

“Baby, look at you. Of course I’m in love with you.” 

You nod, a smile tugging on your lips. 

“What are we gonna do?” 

Jake almost says love each other. Be together. But then he realizes that you mean right now, right here. What are you going to do to stay alive? 

“Maybe Bradley and Javy found something,” he says. “Like, a radio or something.” 

“Fat chance,” you answer. 

And then you wash the last of the blood off your skin and start to wade back towards Jake--the sun is almost entirely set now. Your fingers are numb when you think about so many of your co-counselors being out there in the dark, thick woods. 

Jake stands up, leaving the gun on the rocks beside the two of you. You’re soaking wet and the air is getting cooler--he knows your skin must be goosed, he knows your scalp must be prickling. 

“Here,” he offers, opening his arms. He watches you, your lips a tint bluer than they were before, eye him carefully with all the skepticism of a mutt eyeing the dogcatcher. Then he rolls his eyes and beckons you closer with a cut nod of his head. “C’mon, you’re freezing.”

You submit then because you are freezing. You’re freezing and you’re exhausted and you’re scared and you feel like nothing in the world is going your way. 

Falling into his arms, you bury your cold nose in his chest and inhale him. He smells like he always does, like deodorant and sweat and grass--but mainly sweat and grass. It’s a good smell, one you inhale as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to him. And you remember that just a few days ago, being in his arms was good. Comforting. Warm. Safe. Soft. But now everything is different. Everything is gone. Everyone is gone--or at least, that’s what it feels like. 

“Jesus, your nose is an icicle,” Jake says, holding the back of your head and pushing your face further into his chest. “You’re shivering.” 

But you’re not shivering just because you’re cold. You’re shivering because you’re suddenly crying so hard that you can hardly breathe. Your shoulders are shaking and your spine is curved and your eyes are wet. You don’t even know when the dam broke, when you started sobbing, but you are. You’re so exhausted that your cries are silent. 

He’s stroking your back as the bullfrogs begin singing, his hands warm against your soaked clothing. But then he feels how warm your face is suddenly, how quiet you are. He’s just about to ask if you’re alright when you suck in a deep, quivering breath and sob into his chest. 

He’s never seen you cry before. You’re level-headed, cool, calm, collected. It must mean something, Jake decides, that you’re falling apart right here and now in his arms. It must mean something--it has to. 

Jake isn’t going to say anything. He doesn’t know what to say right now that would make you feel any better. He just holds you close, holds you tight. You’re fisting his shirt and he’s stroking your hair. And because he’s a weak man, because he’s a weak man who is in love with you, he sinks his face into your hair and breathes you in. 

You are hardly clean right now and he’s able to do this. He thinks, if he really tries, if he keeps being in love with you, he’ll be able to stomach anything just to look at you.

“Jake,” you whimper. “Jake, I feel like--I feel like we’re being punished for something awful.” 

He tuts softly, stroking your hair gently. 

“Whatcha mean, baby?” He asks quietly. “Who’s punishing us? For what?” 

“God,” is all you can manage to choke. 

You don’t know why you feel like this, why you feel like something bigger than you, than everyone, is punishing you. But it is an ever-present knot in your gut. 

“Shh,” he whispers. “You’re just tired, baby. That’s all.” 

But now a rock sinks in his belly.  

♀

Jake is sitting on the ground by the mess hall doors, the shotgun laying just beside him. It’s late now--so late that there’s not even a speck of light outside. He’s been the one checking in with Payback and Fanboy every half hour, he’s been the one sitting up and watching the doors, he’s been the one peering over his shoulder at the slumbering campers in their sleeping bags. Phoenix is asleep with Bob in the kitchen and you--finally--laid your head down on his lap and fell asleep after he told you to lay down for the eightieth time. 

“But they’re not back yet,” you said softly, glancing out the windows into the dusk. “What if something happened?” 

Jake swallowed, squaring his shoulders. Your face was still puffy from crying and your hair was still wet. 

“I’ll check it out if they aren’t back by midnight, okay?” 

You bit your lip, considering your options. You really didn’t think it would take this long for Coyote and Bradley to go to Paul’s cabin and come back. There’s a knot in your belly and a headache behind your eyes just thinking about it. But over everything else, you’re so fucking tired. So tired that you’re delirious. 

“Okay,” you whispered. “But you’ll wake me up if you go, right?” 

“Of course,” Jake said, face serious as ever before. “C’mon. Get some shut-eye.” 

The clock is racing towards midnight--only a few minutes ‘til. Jake doesn’t want to wake you up. Quite frankly, he doesn’t wanna go out there in the dark. But then he thinks of Coyote hurt--Hell, he even thinks of Bradley hurt--and a strange sense of duty tightens his sense of right and wrong. 

“Mr. Jake?”

He jumps--cranes his neck to look beside him. Mable is standing there, her hands clasped before her. She’s red in the face and there are tear tracks marking her cheeks. 

He’s just about to ask what’s wrong when he sees it instead--her bandage is bright red with blood. 

“Oh,” he says softly. His stomach turns, his saliva grows thick. But still, he looks at Mable. “It open again?” 

She nods. She had a nightmare about the Devil--the one who wanders the camp, the one who cut her with the Swiss army knife, the one who she is so petrified of. And then she woke up with her cut oozing hot, hot blood. 

“Can you--can you help me?” She asks. 

She sees you, clear as day, sleeping on Jake’s lap. She would much prefer if you helped her bandage the cut, but she doesn’t want to wake you. And she knows, somehow, that Jake doesn’t wanna wake you either. 

“Sure,” Jake says after a few moments of silence. “Like, just…reapply the bandage?” 

Mable shrugs. Right. She’s a kid. 

So, as carefully as Jake can, he slips out from under you, carefully laying your head on the wool blanket you’re laying on. And then he leaves the shot gun behind, ventures to one of the tables where you set up your nurse’s station. Mable follows behind him, wiping her face. 

“So…a bandage, probably. And maybe some cotton, right?” He glances at her. She shrugs again. “Didn’t you watch her bandage you?” Jake asks. 

“No,” Mable says quietly. “I was scared.” 

Jake nods. He gets it. 

“Well, okay. Um…just--why don’t you take off your bandage and put it on the table.” 

He’s preparing himself--steeling his gut, straightening his shoulders, taking a few deep breaths when he starts to feel lightheaded. 

Mable unwraps her wound--a few deep red drops of blood fall onto the floor. Jake squints, lips wrinkled as he tries his hardest not to start gagging. 

“Good,” he says weakly. He presses cotton to the wound and sighs in relief for a moment--at least he can’t see it anymore. But then he can feel it--hot and velvety beneath the pads of his fingers. “Shit--uh, alright. Yeah. You hold it there, okay?” 

Mable does as she’s told. 

Jake struggles with the bandage for a second, unraveling it before wrapping it around Mable’s thin arm a few times. The cotton bulges beneath it, but at least he can’t see the slice anymore. 

He holds the bandage in place then glances at Mable, who’s already looking at him. 

“Now what?” He asks quietly. 

“The tape,” she whispers, nodding to the roll on the table. 

“Right,” he says. He smiles weakly. “I knew that.” 

He rips the tape with his teeth, carefully applying it to the jagged end of the bandage while Mable watches carefully.

“There,” he offers quietly. “All better, right?” 

She nods, examining the shoddy work. It surely isn’t as good as it is when you do it, but it’ll do. It’ll do. 

There’s a pause between the two of them. Jake is proud of himself--he bandaged a bleeding kid all by himself. He almost wants to wake you up just to tell you that he did it. And if he can do that, he’s certain he can do anything else. Mable is chewing on her lip now, too afraid to go back and lay down, but still sleepy.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Mable whispers. “When I said he was coming for you.” 

Jake swallows hard, shrugs. 

“All in the past,” he sighs. 

She struggles for a moment, sniffling. 

“But I wasn’t lying,” she tells him. She looks at his face--his furrowed brows, his twisted lips. “He still is.” 

Jake isn’t mad exactly. But he’s scared and he’s tired and he wants this to be over and done with. 

“Why?” Jake asks because he knows it’s no use arguing. “Why me?”

“Because he wants all of us and you know how to shoot the gun.” 

In your restless slumber, you’re standing outside in the middle of the courtyard. You’re by yourself, covered in blood again, feet planted firmly in the gravel. It’s dark and windy and the waves of the lake are crashing against the white stone uncarefully. 

There’s a sense of something, like a sheer curtain shielding a sunny day, that you can’t quite put your finger on other than it is the feeling of loss. Everyone is dead and gone. Only you are left, all by yourself, barefoot in the onyx night. 

In your hands is the shotgun, but even it is slimy with blood--you can hardly get your grip on it. Rage and terror are fighting inside your cut--so vicious that bile is rising up your throat. 

And there, standing before the lake with that wicked curve in its neck, is the entity. It is as dark and fleshy as ever before, looming over you and everything else as it takes deep and rapid breaths. You don’t know how you know, but you know that its face is covered in blood, you know that it is waiting for you to make the first move. 

You’re going to fight it. Just you and just it. 

The wind is blowing something wicked. You’re scrambling to find the safety. The entity is twitching, snarling, snapping its teeth. It wants to press is mouth to yours, it wants to breath in your scent as it blunges a claw through your throat, it wants to feel the life drain out of you like it felt the life drain out of your friends--

The mess hall door rips open and the sound of clattering footsteps rips you out of your nightmare. And in the dim light, in your haze of upset and in your frenzy of panic, you sit up and reach for the shotgun beside you. Jake is gone--you don’t know where he is--but you know that you have to protect what you have. 

“Don’t fucking move!” You scream, cocking the shotgun and pressing the safety off. You’re still blinking yourself awake as you scramble to stand. “Get the fuck--!” 

Bradley blinks at you--Coyote’s eyes are wide. 

The barrel of the shotgun is aimed directly at them. 

“Whoa, whoa!” Jake calls, hurrying over to your rigid form and Bradley and Coyote. “Hey, hotshot, put the gun down!” 

Still in shock, you lower the weapon. Your heart is racing. Your mouth is dry. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, shaking your head, swallowing hard. “God, fuck--I’m so…I’m so sorry.” 

Jake takes the gun from your hands, stroking your hair as you stumble back. Your fingers are numb with panic. 

“Jesus Christ,” Bradley gasps, eyes narrowed at you. “Were you gonna fucking shoot us?” 

“No!” You answer, shaking your head. “No, I was just--I panicked. I didn’t know it was you coming in.” 

“Well, it’s not like you gave us a secret knock,” Bradley hisses. 

“I know,” you say, holding your face. 

“Christ, we’ve been busting our asses out there, running through the woods with a killer on the loose--and we come back to that?” Bradley cries. “Way to show your gratitude, Gale.”

He isn't calling you Birdie. 

“Lay off her, man,” Coyote insists, clapping Bradley’s shoulder. “We have bigger fish to fry.” 

Bradley looks at you long and hard--the way you’re holding your face, the way Jake is standing beside you like he belongs there. He’s burning from earlier still--angry at himself and at you and at Jake. 

“Here,” Bradley says, throwing a flurry of newspaper articles and papers at you and Jake. “Read ‘em and weep.” 

Coyote scoffs, slapping Bradley on the back of the head. 

“Don’t be a dick, man,” Coyote insists. 

“Fuck off,” Bradley grumbles. “They need to read ‘em.” 

“I didn’t know it was you!” You insist. “I never would’ve--Bradley, I wouldn’t--!” 

“--I really don’t care right now,” Bradley interrupts, holding a palm up to you. “Read the newspapers.” 

With quivering hands and wet eyes, you lean down and grab the newspapers. They’re old--yellowed and stained. The scent of old ink floods your nose as Jake claps Coyote on the shoulder. 

“Glad you’re back,” Jake tells him. “I was just about to send out the troops.” 

Coyote smiles weakly--he’s more afraid now than he was before. Not even just because they finally made their way back to camp, but because of what him and Bradley found. 

You’re reading as fast as you can, your brows furrowed, your stomach at your feet. 

HORROR AT CAMP ARCADIA. July 19th, 1957. 

“What…?” You whisper. 

Bradley is watching you with his hands on his hips. 

“Paul’s cabin was ransacked. He wasn’t there. God, there was--there was shit everywhere. And a fucking bulletin board full of shit like this.” 

“What is it?” Jake asks, brows furrowed. 

Phoenix peers out from the kitchen, her eyes heavy with sleep. 

“What’s going on?” She whispers. 

“What’s going on is that some shit went down in 1957. You know--like it’s going on now. Like, a guy running around fucking killing type shit. Read it.” 

Your stomach is in knots. 

“‘All seven of the camp counselors and the camp nurse were found brutally slain on camp grounds’,” you read aloud, your voice quivering. You’re lightheaded suddenly, choking on panic. “What the fuck is this?” 

“The Great Oaks Gazette,” Coyote answers. “As in…it’s real.” 

“What do you mean?” You ask. “This is--Jake, isn’t this the story you told at the bonfire?”

Jake swallows hard, eyes wide. 

“I thought it was--Jesus, I thought it was just some spooky story.” 

“Well, it’s not,” Bradley answers. “It happened. Like, it happened here thirty fucking years ago.” 

“‘The maniac’…” you whisper. Then you have to close your eyes and breathe through a bout of nausea. “Christ…what the fuck is going on?” 

“He’s here,” Coyote answers. “Whoever did that--he’s here.” 

“Except that he isn’t really ‘cause he was found dead, too,” Bradley says. “So, someone who knew about him is pretending to be him. And they’re trying to pick us off one by one.” 

“People got murdered here?” Phoenix asks, clutching another newspaper clipping. “Like--here? Camp Arcadia?” 

“Catch up,” Bradley snaps at her. “A whole staff. Just like us. Seven camp counselors and one nurse.” 

Coyote nods stiffly. 

“Two girls and five boys,” you whisper softly. “Just like us.” 

“Yeah,” Bradley confirms. “Just like us.” 

Jake’s head is spinning. He grips your shoulder, his eyes wide. 

“My God,” he mutters. “I didn’t know…I thought…”

That’s when all the bottled-up rage from today, all the fear and the horror, surfaces in Bradley’s chest in a puddle of red. He turns to Jake, his eyes narrowed. 

“How did you hear the story?” Bradley asks him, suddenly turning towards him. “Like, where did you hear about it?” 

Jake’s brows furrow. 

“I…I don’t remember,” he answers honestly. “I feel like I’ve just--like I’ve just always known about it.” 

“Why?” Bradley continues, narrowing his eyes. “None of us knew about it.” 

“C’mon,” Phoenix says, glancing between Jake and Bradley. “Cool it.” 

You’re too stunned to realize how lethal this argument between Bradley and Jake is going to be. If you were less shocked, less hurt, less tired, you would see in their eyes just how bad things are about to get. You would see it in Bradley’s red chest and Jake’s clenched fists. 

“No, no,” Bradley says. “‘Cause while we were out there, trying to get some fucking answers about what’s going on, I kept thinking about it. No one answered me earlier when I asked who would hike all the way out here. Shit, who knows we’re even out here, right?” 

“Someone who knows about Gwyar,” Phoenix says. His name tastes bitter on her tongue. “Someone from town. I don’t know.” 

“Right. You don’t know,” Bradley says, not ripping his gaze from Jake. “I’ll bet it was someone who knew about Gwyar, too.” 

The tips of Jake’s ears are bright red. His face contorts in rage as he scoffs at Bradley. 

“The fuck are you saying, man?” Jake asks. 

Bradley smiles. 

“I’m saying that maybe you’re the one who’s trying to slice and dice us.” 

“Fuck off,” you hiss at Bradley, stepping closer to the two of them. “You’re not helping!” 

“Oh, I’ve been helping,” Bradley insists. “I put my ass on line to get this information--but Jake already knew it, right? You already knew.” 

“It was just a story!” Jake insists. 

“Except that it wasn’t,” Bradley says. The toes of his tennis shoes are grazing Jake’s now. The men are eye-level, each of their gazes fiery as they stare at another. “You know, I was thinking on the way back: how could it be him? And then shit started to add up, you know? The stars really aligned.” 

Coyote is stunned into silence. Bradley never verbalized any of this on their trek back. 

“Fuck off,” you say again. You attempt to get between them when Bradley suddenly juts an arm out and puts it in the middle of your chest. “Hey-!”  

“Stay back,” Bradley says. “I think we found our killer.” 

“You can’t just say that, man,” Coyote says. “You need to check yourself.” 

“Where did you find the ax?” Bradley asks Jake. Jake swallows hard. “Right…your cabin. I remember now. And the Swiss army knife--that was in the bus barn, right? You found it. Didn’t he, Coyote?” 

“You’re making something out of nothing,” Coyote spits. “Leave him alone.” 

You’re watching the two men with your heart in your throat. This display of aggression, of dominance, is making your throat tight with anger. 

Jake’s grip tightens on the gun. 

“He can’t stand the sight of blood,” you say. “How’s he gonna chop Bob’s arm off?” 

“You know, did anyone ever know that Jake was in his school’s musicals?” Bradley asks. He recalled it during the long walk back through the dark woods--that tiny detail Jake shared a few summers back when he’d had one too many, slurring the lyrics to Suddenly Seymore. “‘Cause I remember that.” 

“Mr. Jake isn’t afraid,” Mable pipes up from behind everyone, her heart in her chest. From afar, she thinks that she’s coming to his defense. A sudden loyalty for Jake has sprouted in her chest. She holds her hands on her hips, then juts her arm out towards everyone. “He isn’t afraid of anything. He wrapped my arm back up.” 

Fuck. 

“Convenient,” Bradley sneers. “You can handle the sight of blood when all of us aren’t looking, huh? What else you doing when we’re not looking?” 

“Bradley, you’re way out of line,” Coyote says. 

“And didn’t you tell me that you were gonna kill me? Like, a few hours ago?”

“That’s taken way outta context!” Jake demands. “You were fucking--you were--!” 

“--I was what? Talking about your girl? And you didn’t like that?” 

Bile rises in your throat. 

“What are you talking about?” You demand. “Both of you--just--just quit it!” 

But they aren’t quitting it. They’re stepping closer to each other, not ripping their gazes from each other. 

“Coyote heard it,” Bradley says. “Didn’t you, Coyote?” 

Coyote doesn’t answer. He did hear Jake say it--but he knows…or at least, he thinks he knows, that Jake would never hurt anyone. He wasn't being serious. He was just angry. 

Jake glances at Coyote, whose face is pulled together in agony. 

“C’mon,” Jake says. “You know I didn’t mean it.” 

Your blood runs cold. 

“You said you were gonna kill Bradley?” You whisper. 

“He was talking about you,” Jake insists, incredulous. 

You turn your back on the two men, reeling. Your heart is beating out of your chest. What the fuck is going on? 

“You fuck,” Phoenix sneers. Her emotions are running high, her heart is ripping apart in her chest every moment she has to watch Bob settle in an agonizing slumber. “Did you fucking hurt Bob?” 

“No,” Jake gasps. “Phoenix--you know me. C’mon. We all know each other! I would never hurt Bob!” 

“Yeah, but you’d threaten to kill me,” Bradley insists. “You’re a man of your word, right? Maybe you thought Bob was me.” 

“We need to calm down,” Coyote says. “Let’s--fuck, let’s put the gun down and just talk this through?” 

Jake snaps his head in Coyote’s direction, rage burning the tips of his fingers. 

“Put the gun down?” Jake asks, gaping. “You think I’m gonna…you think I’m gonna hurt someone?” 

Coyote is sorrowful as he shrugs and shakes his head. 

“I don’t know what’s going on!” Coyote cries. “No one does!” 

“I do,” Bradley interrupts. “It’s you, isn’t it? You were gonna shoot me earlier today, too. I heard the safety click off.” 

“What?” You whisper. You look at Jake, who is looking like he’s about to start scrambling for purchase. “What did you do?” 

“No, I didn’t!” He looks at you--all that hurt in your eyes is making his chest ache. “Gale, baby, you’ve gotta believe me! I would never do that! You know me! You know me!” 

Bradley steps between the two of you. 

“Leave her out of it,” he sneers. “Give me the gun.” 

Jake tightens his grip on the gun. 

“No,” he says, shaking his head firmly. “I didn’t hurt anyone.” 

“Jake,” Phoenix says, sobbing. “Give him the fucking gun!” 

“No!” Jake yells, stepping back. “No, I won’t give Bradley the gun.” 

“Then give it to me,” you say quietly. Your face is softer now, your brows pulled together in anguish and your face twisted in confusion. “Give it to me, Jake. It’s okay.” 

In this tizzy, you’ve hardly thought about what’s real and what isn’t. Everything feels real and nothing feels real. You’re living a waking nightmare, you’re having nightmares when you close your eyes. You’re losing. Everywhere you turn, everywhere you look, there’s blood. 

“Gale…” Jake says. He’s crying now, staring at you. “I didn’t do it.” 

“Okay,” you whisper, stepping closer to him. “I believe you. Give me the gun.” 

Jake’s palms are sweaty. 

“Give it to her!” Phoenix sobs. “Jake, give her the fucking gun!” 

Jake gives you the gun and you take it slowly, not breaking your gaze from him. And then you swallow hard and look around at everyone. You’re just about to tell everyone to calm down, about to say that you should all calmly talk about what’s going on, when Bradley suddenly jumps on Jake. 

“What are you doing?” You scream at the two men. The campers start to russell in their sleeping bags, start to sit up. “What are you fucking doing?!” 

Coyote is panicking, holding his hands on top of his head. 

“Stop!” Coyote yells. 

The two men are a blur. It’s fists and blood and legs and hair until Jake is laid out flat on his belly and Bradley is sitting on top of him. 

“Get the fuck off me!” Jake demands. “You stupid son of a bitch! You fuck!” 

“We need to talk about this,” you cry. “Stop it! Stop it, Bradley!” 

“He’s gonna hurt someone else,” Bradley hisses at you, pressing his knees into Jake’s back. “He can’t be in here with us.” 

“What?” You screech. You’re quivering. “We don’t know that he did it! We don’t know what’s happening! He just--Christ, he just heard a story, okay?” 

“And he found the weapons. And he said he was gonna kill Bradley,” Phoenix says. She wipes her face, stares down at Jake. “I don’t want him in here.” 

You turn to her, flabbergasted. Phoenix, the pillar of maturity and level-headedness, suggesting that Jake be cast out when there’s a slasher on the loose. Your knees nearly buckle. 

“Phoenix,” you whisper quietly. Your throat is too choked to say anything else. 

“Please don’t do this,” Jake cries, stills struggling beneath Bradley. “Please, please don’t fucking do this!” 

“Get off of him,” Coyote snaps, pulling Bradley’s shoulder. “He isn’t hurting anyone!” 

“Not right now,” Bradley says. “But he could start again. Any fucking time.” 

All the campers are standing now, watching the showdown.

“You’re a son of a bitch,” you snap at Bradley. “Get the fuck off him!” 

“Why? So he can kill you? So he can kill me? Not a fucking chance, birdie.” 

Panicked, you shove Bradley’s shoulder. It’s enough to rock him but not enough to move him. And before Bradley can shove you away from him, Coyote’s gripping your elbow and pulling you beside him. 

“So, what? What do you wanna do now, Bradley? Wanna stick him outside? Fuck you!” Coyote says. 

“We’ll lock him in a cabin,” Bradley says. “No harm, no foul.” 

“You’re gonna kill me,” Jake screams. “You’re trying to fucking kill me!” 

It’s clear as day to you suddenly, reality. Jake wouldn’t hurt anyone. Jake didn’t do this. Jake would never hurt you. He would never hurt Bradley. Jake wouldn’t hurt anyone. It isn’t him. It isn’t him. 

“Please get off of him,” you cry. You’re sinking to your knees, still holding the shotgun in your hands. 

“Get her outta here, Phoenix,” Bradley says. “She’s hysterical.” 

“Fuck you,” you mutter, spitting at him. “I hate you!” 

“Yeah, yeah, you hate me so much for keeping you alive! I get it! That’s the thanks I get, baby!” Bradley sneers at you. “Nix--take her.” 

Phoenix wraps her arms around you, carefully tugging you up. You are shaking your head, crying, scrambling. But then Coyote is tugging you up, too. He nods towards the kitchen. 

You keep fighting, keep trying to get back to Jake and Bradley, when Coyote suddenly holds both of your cheeks in his hands. His nose grazes yours and his eyes are open and honest. 

“Bob needs you,” Coyote says very seriously. “Okay? You gotta keep your head. It’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to Jake, alright? I promise.” 

You don’t feel any better about it, still choked up on anger and grief, but you allow Phoenix to tug you back towards the kitchen. And just as you’re about to cross the threshold, Jake’s cries still echoing inside of the mess hall, you look at Bradley. For one moment, just a fleeting thing like the flap of a hummingbird’s wing, you see it: he winks at you. Or at least you think you see it. 

“C’mon,” Phoenix whispers to you. “Let them do it. It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

“Fuck off,” you mutter to her, voice trembling. You break from her grip. “You know it isn’t him! You know it.” 

The kitchen door swings shut. 

Bob’s feverish body lay crumpled on the floor. Phoenix looks at your face, her own stained with furious tears. 

“No, I don’t,” she says quietly. “But I know that my best friend in the whole fucking world is dying. And I want someone to pay. I don’t care if you’re fucking him or not.” Offended, you gape at her. She stares back at you. “Look outside your feelings for him,” she insists, softer now. “Don’t be one of those girls who wears horse-blinders when it comes to men.” 

Horse-blinders. 

“I’m not,” you spit. “I just know he didn’t do it.” 

“How?” She asks, voice hard. 

You can’t answer. 

“Right,” she answers. “‘Cause your word is lord.” 

The room is quiet. You stare at each other, chests heaving. 

“I don’t wanna fight,” you tell her, shoulders sloping. “I’m…I’m fucking scared.” 

“Me either,” Phoenix says. She wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry.” 

“Me too,” you tell her. “But I don’t think he did it.” 

She nods. 

“Okay. We’ll see.” 

Bradley throws Jake into his own cabin, the one he shared with the littles. Jake is bright red, cursing Bradley, shaking his head at him. 

“Fuck you,” Jake sneers as Bradley stands in the doorway with his arms crossed. “You’re trying to get me killed, you fuck!” 

“Look, man,” Bradley says. “I’m just trying to keep everyone else alive.”

And before Jake can respond, Bradley is slamming the door shut and locking it from the outside. Coyote watches with his head hung, his heart racing. Fuck. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. Nothing was supposed to be like this. 

“Hey, man,” Coyote calls to Jake. “I’ll…I’ll check in on you every thirty, alright?” 

“Fuck off,” Jake sneers, pacing the length of the dark cabin. Panic has seized his heart. “I’ll be dead by the fucking morning.” 

“Drama, drama,” Bradley says, rolling his eyes. “Don’t let him out, okay?” 

Coyote nods, not looking up. 

Jake sits on the floor, burying his head in his knees. Fuck. Fuck. 

“I’m gonna die,” Jake whispers. Coyote still hears him. “You’re fucking killing me, man.”

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: JAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!!!!

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒:

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[maybankswhore]

no body , no crime ’ tyler galpin

pairings: tyler galpin x reader

summary: after noticing tyler’s abnormal behavior , you start piecing things together. and at your breaking point , you confront tyler about the things you’re beginning to assume & feel.

warnings: cursing , gaslighting , betrayal , heartbreak , sadness , shitty writing.

“ i think he did it & i just can’t prove it. ”

You tried really hard to ignore that feeling in your stomach.

You really , really did.

But you knew Tyler better than anyone else. Better than his dad , better than Wednesday Addams could ever , and even better than himself.

It was a slow transition. It didn’t happen all at once. It took you awhile to remember back to when it first started. . . Before Wednesday even arrived , or before the two had even met.

One day he had came into the Weathervane so happy. His entire mood was energetic and bouncy. His eyes were wide and pupils were dilated. You swore up and down that he was high or something. And when you asked , he gave some vague answer about just being happy and he kissed your cheek , and then you never talked about it again.

He started staying out later. Gradually as the weeks went by and the seasons changed , you saw less and less of Tyler once evening came.

Unless he was working a late shift at the coffee shop , the latest you saw him was six in the afternoon and if you were lucky , seven thirty.

You tried ignoring it at first. You told yourself you were being silly and he was probably just really busy , or depressed and wasn’t ready to talk about it. You tried every excuse in the book to ignore the feeling you got every time you were next to him.

Then he started getting more tired of you. He snapped at you more and his eyes were forever changed to a dark brown compared the shimmering light hazel look they held when he was in the sun. Sometimes the bags under his eyes were so bad , you’d be worried sick something was really wrong.

Once Wednesday waltzed herself into Tyler’s life , his attention was immediately on her. It struck your heart , truly , seeing as though he seemed to really enjoy his time around her. More than he was having with you in the last six months.

The disappearance of Rowan was the last straw from you. All of the sneaking around , the whispers from Xavier and Wednesday talking about like nobody else around them could hear. . . but you did.

You had researched as much as you could. Coming into a couple dead ends until the night Wednesday was attacked by Rowan— and Tyler was nowhere to be seen.

You waited to confront him until it was the right time. The waiting nearly killed you. Sick to your stomach , wondering what to say and how to go about it. It was Tyler. Out of all people it was Tyler , and you could never see someone as kind and patient as him potentially be something so evil.

But you needed to find out the truth.

Finally you had your chance when he picked you up in Jericho after you called , demanding that you two spoke. He tried making up an excuse to get out of it , like he had been doing for months. But you didn’t let up.

“So what couldn’t wait.” Tyler sighed as he parked the car in a vacant parking lot , turning down the AC so he could hear you better.

You slid yourself towards the passenger door , swallowing the nerve’s threatening to come up as you avoided looking at him. “You’ve been lying to me.” You muttered , recounting every lie he had told , each time and each different excuse.

Tyler scoffed. “About what?” He shook his head and watched you carefully , noticing the unusual distance you were keeping.

“You know you have.” You pushed. You focused on your own hands , playing with them to ease your nerves. “I–I’ve been wondering what’s going on with you. Why you haven’t been here. . .” your bottom lip trembled as you were finally able to speak about your feelings , feel closure behind everything you’ve been thinking in your head. You weren’t crazy.

“Baby–”

“No.” You cut him off sternly , finally picking your head back up to look him in the eye. “Tell me the truth , Tyler. Was it you that hurt Rowan? Made him disappear?” You accused. You remembered Wednesday’s mumbling about to her floating hand ‘thing’– as she called him. Your lurking and eavesdropping was not for nothing— and you were putting the pieces together.

It couldn’t have been Xavier. Not when Tyler disappeared exactly when things conspired.

“W–What?” Tyler’s eyes grew wide at your big accusation. Sweat began to form at the back of his neck , scoffing dismissively. “You can’t be seriously asking me that.”

“I am.” You defended yourself , crossing your arms. “I don’t know what it is you’re doing , Tyler but I know there’s something you’re not telling me.” Your breath was shaky as you paused to collect yourself. “And if you aren’t telling me about me , then I know it can’t be anything good because you– you’ve always been honest with me. You’ve always told me everything.” Feeling yourself getting worked up , you sat up and turned your head away from him.

Tyler looked like a deer in headlights. You couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen this coming— that his actions hadn’t mattered to you or something. Like you hadn’t cared enough to notice something was different.

“Is it some prank you’re pulling with your normie friends?” You filled his silence with more accusations. “Or is it something even worse , Tyler? Something that’s gonna get people hurt— you hurt?”

“How could you ask me something like that?” Tyler gaped at you. His face full of hurt. “I told you I slipped off to use the bathroom—” he shook his head. “Y/N you’re my girlfriend.” He looked at you square in the eye , searching your face and scanning your expression. “You know me.”

You shook your head almost laughing. “Do I? I’ve barely even seen you these past few weeks. You’re always out , doing something with Wednesday then going to therapy and going God knows where every night when you tell me you have things to do and never elaborate what those things are! You don’t speak to me half the time , or look at me. When we are together you’re somewhere else , counting down the seconds until you’re finally rid of me.”

“That’s not true.” Tyler scratched his head anxiously , shaking his head quickly. “It’s not. I’m sorry , okay? I’m sorry I’ve been distant I’ve just—” he tried coming up with something quick , sensing your disconnection. He didn’t like it and he didn’t like the situation he was in.

He loved you. He really did. He hadn’t meant for everything to get screwed up. You were never supposed to be apart of anything.

“We can get better.” Tyler reasoned. He reached over the center console to find your hand that had been fisting the material of your clothes for comfort. You sighed at the contact , eye’s fluttering closed.

“That doesn’t explain what’s going on.” You said lowly. You should’ve took your hand away , but you couldn’t. You liked the feeling too much. You missed him way too much. “Something bad is going on , Tyler. I know there is. What aren’t you telling me?” Finally getting the courage to meet his eyes , your eyes locked together and you could feel your shoulders start to relax and your body crave to get closer to his. The sadness in his eyes , glazing over with anxiety and hesitation. You hated seeing him like this. “Please. . .” you whispered , reaching up to cup his cheek. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Tyler’s eyes began to tear up as you touched him. He didn’t realize how far apart the two of you had been. He melted into your palm , fluttering his eyes closed at the touch. “I wish I could.”

“You can.” You pushed. “Whatever it is , we can get through it together.”

“I just. . .” Tyler sighed. “I just need you to not give up on me.” He avoided your question easily , pleading with his eyes to get you to drop it.

Your stomach fell at his words and you knew.

“I can feel my heart breaking.” You whispered to him. “Because I’m scared.”

Tyler frowned and grabbed your chin softly. “Hey , don’t say that. You shouldn’t be scared of anything.”

“I’m scared about how much it’s gonna hurt when I find out what’s going on with you Tyler.” You admitted shamefully , bottom lip trembling. “Because I know you , more than anyone and something isn’t right.”

You had no proof. You had nothing but assumptions that you had pieced together. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you were thinking. Maybe you were being overdramatic and let Wednesday’s detective act was getting to you.

You wanted to believe him but you couldn’t.

Whatever he was doing , you couldn’t prove it. And without proof , you had nothing.

But you were going to find out.

#Spotify #wednesday #taylor swift #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin angst #tyler galpin imagine

[loaksbabyy]

drabble!found you’ lo’ak sully

mdni!! just masturbation really.

your hands lazily picked and pulled at the flowers you needed to make kiri and tuk new top’s with.

metkayina women often wore different clothing from different navi clans and some of the material were made from flowers.

“reya’ im getting tired, finish these for me?” you yawned holding the basket out towards your sister, she agreed taking the basket from your hands mimicking what you were doing.

you dusted the dirt off your knees and swiped any thing else that landed on you in the being. “oh! before you go, give this to lo’ak.” she spoke reaching in her hunters bag reveal a necklace with a ‘moon’ on it.

you nodded with a smile in her direction before heading towards the village home’s.

you arrived being in sight with kiri, neteyam, tuk, your bother, and his friend; rotxo.you approached them as they teached the forest kids your other language besides the na’vi language.

sign language or as neteyam calls it, ‘finger talk’. “hello everyone!” you smiled big greeting them pulling your fingers to your forehead signing ‘i see you’ as they did the same back.

you sat down joining in on the lesson when you noticed something, someone was missing, oh! lo’ak.you looked around seeing if he was coming from a distance but you saw nothing.

“sorry to interrupt but, where is lo’ak?” you kindly interrupted, neteyam scratched his head also looking around now realizing his brother was missing while kiri and tuk shrugged.

“we do not know, probably somewhere swinging through trees.” ao’nung joked causing laughter to erupt from rotxo, the sully’s rolled their eyes at the horrible insult and you just gave him a slap upside the head.

“ao’nung.” you scolded your immature brother, he rubbed where you hit doing a ‘what’ gesture at your action knowing he was wrong.

you rolled your eyes, barely hissing at him.

“check his hut, maybe he’s in there.” kiri suggested, you nodded letting out a quick ‘thank you’ before standing up and heading the directed way.

as you stood in front of his hut, you hadn’t entered yet because you abruptly stopped at the sounds you heard coming from inside.groans and whimpers

a first you thought he was hurting cause before you were directly in front of the door, the faint noises could be heard.

you peeked through the hut getting a perfect view of lo’ak who had his back against the wall stroking his wide, grithy cock barely being able close his hand fully around it.

his eyes screwed shut as small sweat droplets trickled down from his forehead, chasing his orgasm by hungrily thrusting into his fist.

“s-shit y/n, just like that baby.” he whimpered licking his lips pumping his purple leaking tip sloppy meaning he was close, he opened his eyes for a split second to spit on his hand leaving a spit trail from his mouth before continuing to squeeze and thrust into his hand.

he hadn’t even noticed that you were now fully inside his hut pressing your thighs together wanting to feel something in your desperate cunt, you were completely drenched at the sight, totally mind blown that lo’ak was thinking about while jerking his cock.

“fuck, i’m c-cumming y/n.. shit!” he groaned, moaning your name planting both his feet up on the cot rapidly pumping his rock hard cock as loads of his white sticky cum shot from his tip landing all over his hands.

he rode out his high coming down with a huff, you rubbed and flicked your cunt increasing the speed when you felt your stomach twist into knots, you literally had to do something you felt like you were gonna come on sight without even touching yourself.

your hand was slapped over your mouth muffling your moans and whines hoping that lo’ak didn’t hear you, but he did.

his head shot up quickly but it was too late, you gasped detaching your hand from your dripping cunt loosing your orgasm.

“i’m sorry.” you whimpered pulling your loincloth up from your ankles, feeling now embarrassed but lo’ak quickly rushed over to you grabbing your hands stopping you from walking away.

“don’t be mama, that was hot.” he smirked towering over you, his once again hard cock grazed against your toned stomach, you took a step forward to where it was now laying against it.

“you gonna help me get off again, pretty girl?” he teased your nipples, you shivered at the sudden touch, and whimpered at the overwhelming feeling.

“y-yes lo’ak.” you whined swiping your tongue across your lips and reaching to lift your top up further so he had more access to your beautiful breast.

“c’mere.”

a/n : bye this so ass, i’m sorry y’all 🙏🏽 this kind of like a filler bcs i don’t have nooooooooooo motivation for that other fic like it makes no sense. send in requests tho!! didn’t really proof read .. oops.

#avatar the way of water #avatar smut #loak imagine #nani’ speaks! #loak x reader #loak smut #avatar 2009 #fluff #loak x you #avatar loak #loak sully #loak fanfiction #neteyam #tsireya #aonung #kiri sully #this is horrible