#i just think they'd be the best moms okay

[godsandmonsters505]

Roll Like Thunder | Negan Smith

dbf!Negan Smith (The Walking Dead) x younger fem!reader

(AU where the apocalypse never happened)

Summary: Negan is your dad's best friend and the two of you settle some tension while on your family vacation.

Warnings (18+): age gap (reader is college age, maybe 20-ish, and Negan's age is not specified but I'm feeling early 50s), smut (fem receiving oral, unprotected p in v), possibility of getting caught, edging

Notes: this actually kinda turned out sweet in a way I think, which is surprising because that's not often an outcome when I write for Negan lmao. not proofread yet because I just wanted to get it out to you all asap, but will edit if needed when I get the chance. hope you enjoy!! (also the intro is kinda long oops)

Grabbing your glass of wine you take another much needed swig, cringing at your dad and uncle. They always find some way to turn every conversation into a political argument while the rest of your family eat their meals and exchange knowing glances

Family holidays were always like this. The one time a year when everyone was together: your parents, aunt, uncle and cousins. Only this year, there was a new addition.

Negan had grown up being a close friends with both your father and uncle and they are still best friends to this day. He recently went through a messy divorce and this is his first Christmas without his wife in a long time. Your dad never was good with showing kindness or friendship, but your uncle had convinced him it would be a good idea to invite him to his cabin for your annual Christmas getaway.

And that's how you got here.

You'd always had a little bit of a crush on Negan, for as long as you could remember. Though you never saw much of him as a kid. It wasn't until you got older - old enough to be able to drink in front of your parents - that you got to spend more time with him. Drinking was a big part of their social life, so once you could join in, you got to know him better. You got on well with your parents so you'd have barbeques with them and their friends, join in with conversations in the kitchen when they'd have people over, go out to dinner. But then you went off to college and started spending less and less time with them. So now it's Christmas time, you're happy to be able to spend time with your family. And Negan, more than you'd care to admit.

"Okay fellas," your mom chimes in. "Enough of that."

Negan makes eye contact with you from across the other side of the table and you smirk at each other. You're both all too familiar with watching this from an outside perspective.

"The food's delicious, Negan," she adds, turning to Negan, who had cooked this meal for you all. Sort of as a thank you for letting him tag along. For the first few days in the cabin he felt a little out of place, like he was intruding on your family's time together. But eventually he began to find himself settling. You were lucky to have a very fun, non-judgmental family so everyone was happy to have him there.

You nodded in agreement with your mother's statement. "I'd have more if there was any left." You motion to your empty plate.

"I'm glad it's got your approval, ladies," he grins.

The meal comes to an end and alcohol starts flowing. Your cousins are all younger than you so they head off to their bedrooms to do whatever it is kids their age do.

"I'd better get these dishes cleaned," Negan declares, standing up from his seat.

"No," you say, protesting. "You cooked. I'll clean."

"It's fine, you don't have to," he says kindly.

"I want to," you smile. "Really I'm happy to."

"We'll do them together?" He suggests, coming to a compromise and you nod in agreement.

"You raised a stubborn one," he mumbles teasingly to your dad, patting his shoulder as he walks past him.

"She gets that from me," your mom chirps as the two of you pick the plates up from the table and carry them into the kitchen.

Putting the plates on the kitchen top, you head to the fridge and look inside.

"Beer?" you ask, peeking around the door to look at Negan's response. Though you already have two cans in your hand, knowing he won't turn down the offer.

He nods. "Can't do anything without a drink in hand in this family, huh?"

You close the fridge door and pass him his beer, cracking open his own.

"You should be more than aware of that," you tease. "I've heard what you and my dad used to get up to."

"I'm sure you've not even heard the most of it," he teases back.

You laugh softly under your breath at his response.

"I'll wash, you dry?" You suggest as the sink begins to fill with soapy water.

The two of you get the dishes done relatively quickly as Negan tells you a story from his college days. You have to keep yourself composed and remember who he is. Remember that these stories he's telling of him at your age took place before you were even born. A decade before, at least. But, every so often, as you pass him the plates to dry, your fingers touch his and such a small motion has you weak. You can't look him directly in the eyes as he stands so close to you. That signature grin of his spread across his face.

The two of your finish and you take a large swig of your beer, but it's no surprise that the flush of alcohol doesn't help your body heat. You can only hope and pray that your cheeks aren't beetroot red right now.

"I'm sure you've got plenty of stories, though, right?" He asks. "Being in college and all. And with your dad's genes...God."

A playful smile spreads on your face. "Sure. I'm absolutely not telling you though. My dad would have a heart attack."

"Ahh," he smiles back. "So this whole 'good girl' thing is just an act, then?"

Holy shit. Good girl? He has no clue what he is doing to you calling you things like that.

"I can be good when it suits me." You say, almost flirtatiously, and immediately kick yourself. Why the hell would you say something like that to him?

Your off-the-cuff reply has him grinning. He swipes his tongue over his teeth as he contemplates your words and you almost drop to your knees.

"Let's go see what political debate has become the talking point now," you say, changing the topic to hide your complete embarrassment. You leave the kitchen and head to the living room, Negan following.

Somehow, in the time it took you to wash the dishes, your mom and aunt have gone through a bottle and a half of wine, and they're sat on the floor with your dad and uncle playing some sort of drinking game.

You sit down on the couch and Negan sits next to you. Why? Why could he not just sit away from you? Give you some space to compose yourself? But the action is completely innocent. There is just less than a foot between the two of you, yet it still feels like he is on top of you. Like you're breathing the same air.

"What was I just saying?" Negan says, nudging your arm with his elbow. "Alcohol."

You shake your head in playful disagreement with your relatives' actions.

"Hey, mom," you say and her head whips around, as laughter escapes her lips. "Think you've had enough for tonight?"

"Oh, you're so boring," she waves her hand at you dismissively.

The four of them continue for about half an hour as you and Negan observe and laugh. The game finally comes to an end when your aunt and uncle discreetly head off to their bedroom for a reason you don't even want to think about. Your parents follow shortly after, your dad having to carry your drunk mom up the stairs.

You come back from the kitchen where you were getting another lager for you and Negan. As you do so, you look for the TV controller and find a blanket that was lying around. You sit down again next to Negan and look down at your phone to check the time.

"God, it's not even 10 o'clock yet." You laugh.

"Amateurs," he says sarcastically.

You pass him his beer which he thanks you for, then get under you blanket.

"Want some?" You ask, holding out some excess blanket towards him.

"Sure," he accepts, getting comfortable himself.

The whole situation you're in is completely innocent, but it dawns on you that you're currently alone with Negan, tucked under the same blanket. Given that fact, you make a conscious effort not to touch him at all and try to remain composed.

"Put a movie on?" You ask him, passing the TV remote to him.

He takes it from your hand, brushing his fingertips across yours.

You watch him carefully as he selects a film to put on, making sure not to get caught admiring him. He just looks so good. The salt and pepper sprinkled throughout his hair and beard. The tattoos that cover his arms. The way his white t-shirt hugs his body just right. You're brought out of your thoughts when he speaks.

"You seen Batman Returns?" He asks, looking down at you.

"Of course," you smile. "It's a classic."

"Feel like watching it again?"

You nod. You'll watch whatever he wants. Do whatever he wants.

"Absolutely," you answer. "I didn't peg you as a Batman kind of guy, to be honest."

"Like you say, it's a classic," he says. "Plus there's always Michelle Pfeiffer."

You laugh at him. "I feel you."

You polish off another beer as you watch the film. You try your best to pay attention, to keep your eyes open, but you grow increasingly tired. It must have only been fifteen minutes into the film when you finally drift off, reality slipping away.

When you wake up again, it takes a while to fully gain consciousness, You feel something under you head, under your arm, but you don't pay much attention to it.

You feel warm. Comfortable. You don't want to wake up, you could stay here forever. The smell of men's shampoo and cologne comforts you, a soft material under the touch of your hand.

All of a sudden reality dawns on you. You realise that your head is leaning on a shoulder. That your hand is draped across a torso. You shoot up, sitting upright and see Negan smiling at you softly through slightly hooded eyes.

"Oh God," you say, feeling incredibly humiliated. "I'm sorry." But he just chuckles.

You look over to the television and see a black screen.

"Did the movie finish?" You ask groggily and he nods. Fuck. You slept for the entire duration of the film and who knows how much of that time you spent laying on Negan's shoulder.

What you're only just realising now, though, is how close you're still sat to him. How even though you're sat up, Negan's shoulder is casually draped across the back of the sofa, dangerously close to your shoulder blades.

"Why didn't you just wake me up?" You ask, feeling flushed.

"You looked peaceful." He answers, honestly. "Didn't want to disrupt you."

"I'm sorry," you apologize again. "You should've woken me up."

"I didn't mind, sweetheart." He insists. "Honestly."

The pet name drives you utterly insane. As if this whole thing wasn't already enough. Your body feels so hot. What with the blanket, his body heat, your arousal.

"I will say though, you do talk quite a bit in your sleep," he smiles coyly and dread shoots through your entire body.

"Wh-what-" you can't even get a full sentence out. "What did I-"

A flash of a dream comes back to you in that moment. Oh God. Oh God, no. You can't remember the details, but you remember the feeling. Negan on top of you. His body weight on you. The ecstasy you felt. His hands on your body. His name slipping from your lips.

You had a sex dream about Negan while you were laying on his Goddamn shoulder. You're lost for words, but Negan is enjoying watching this play out. He bites his lip, trying to suppress his smug grin as he watches you realise the possibilities of what you might have said.

His arm slowly slips off the back of the sofa and creeps around to touch you, the movement making you flinch a little. What is he doing?

He takes his other hand and places two fingers just under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The two of you make eye contact and you can't even contemplate what is happening - still a little groggy from your nap - before his lips are coming down gently on yours.

You kiss him back almost immediately. It's a surprising delicate and intimate kiss, and you daringly bring your hand up to his neck to pull him in deeper, but he pulls back.

You worry that he is having second thoughts, but the look in his eyes says the complete opposite. He just wants to get a good look at you before he tears you apart. You feel vulnerable under his hungry eyes but you love how it makes you feel.

The two of you take a moment to catch your breath before your lips join again, this time the kiss rougher. More passionate. His arms wrap around your back to pull your body snug to his and you intwine your fingers into his hair, tugging ever so slightly. His large hands snake further down and grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. As you get comfortable you shift along his length and gasp, feeling that he is already hard.

"You were practically fucking dry humping me in your sleep," he chuckles. "You can't blame me."

"So that's why you didn't want to wake me up, then?" You're barely able to mumble, teasing him.

"Hmm, maybe." You can feel him smile into the kiss and it makes you want him more. Everything about him is so endearing. He just radiates this warmth, this aura, and it's radiating.

Even now, however, you're nervous to move things along. You know what you want but this is still so surreal, and it would be an understatement to say you feel a little intimidated in this moment. You have enough sexual experience, but this is Negan. This is different. So you're glad when he takes control and begins to lift up your top, pulling it over your head to expose your bra.

His mouth makes contact with the flesh of your chest, sucking and nipping while he reaches around to unhook your bra. He feels his cock twitch when he sees your bare breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth immediately as his warm hands roam and caress your back, travelling over your smooth skin.

As you start to subconsciously grind into his bulge, Negan continues to explore your breasts. You're looking for any kind of relief and you begin to find some as he presses up into you, but both of your pants are restricting you.

You feel yourself crumbling further and further as Negan's hands come around to aid him with his attention to your breasts, squeezing and practically groaning as he does so. The noise changes something inside you, and makes you realise that you need him stripped of his clothes right this second.

You grasp the bottom of his shirt and he briefly pulls away from you to allow you to move it, but the second you're done, his lips are back on your skin, leaving marks on your collarbone and neck. Next, you move onto the buckle of his belt but he swats your hand away.

Pulling back from the kiss, you look to him with wide eyes full of confusion. That look alone is nearly enough to cause him to fold and fuck you right then and there. But he has other plans.

"Be patient for me, honey," he says sweetly, and as badly as you want him, you trust him.

He pulls your body flush to his, so that your breasts are pressed entirely against the heat of his chest. Then he grips your lower back and stands up, holding you tightly.

"We can't do this here," he says, carrying you towards the stairs. You grind up against him playfully as he does so and he stops momentarily half way up the stairs, clearly affected by the action. In retaliation he gently swats your ass and you giggle at his response.

"Shh," he hushes, but he can't hide the grin that spreads across his face as you bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.

Being as quiet as possible, he takes you into his bedroom which - awkwardly - is across the hall from your parents' room.

He puts you down on the bed, barely allowing himself to be away from you for a second, climbing on top of you hastily. He goes back to kissing you, the taste of him intoxicating. The way he kisses are gentle yet so hot and passionate at the same time, becoming increasingly sloppy as they shift from your lips to your jaw, neck, chest, abdomen, until you're a writhing mess beneath him.

Once he has kissed so far that he reaches the waist line of your trousers, he unbuttons them and pulls them all the way down. He throws them onto the floor, leaving you just in your lace black panties. He nudges your legs open and moves his kisses to your thigh. He's slowly breaking you and you're not sure how much more you can take. Painstakingly slow, he trails his tongue up your inner thigh until he reaches the edge of your panties.

Eventually he slips your panties off and you tremble as you feel the cool air of his room against your hot, aching core. He places his hands on your inner thighs to push them open further, mouth watering at the sight of you. The delicate touch of his fingers send shivers up your spine and you're in desperate need of more.

"Please, Negan," you say, barely a croak.

"Shh, let me take care of you," he soothes, his voice low and gravelly as he tries his best to stay quiet. "Wanted to taste this sweet pussy for so long."

As if to affirm his words, he lowers his head and licks a stripe straight through your folds, groaning as he feels how wet you are.

He then moves his mouth to make contact with your clit, your hips raising at the action. He starts off by sucking gently, leaving you aching for more as you reach down to grab his hair, not knowing what else to do. He chuckles as you do so and sends vibrations straight through your core. Unable to control yourself, a moan escapes you lips and he squeezes your thighs warningly, wordlessly telling you to be quiet.

He takes his time to precisely pull you apart, but then his motions begins to get harsher, faster. You feel that rising feeling in the pit of your stomach begin to spread after waiting for what feels like so long. He alternates between kissing, sucking, licking, nipping until you're desperate for more. Sensing this, he teases one finger at your entrance.

"Please," you whimper, legs trembling. He answers your pleading by pushing his single digit inside you in one long push, as deep as he can go, and keeping it there momentarily. As he continues to eat you out, he begins moving his finger, fucking you gently. When he adds a second finger you have to clasp your hand over your own mouth to stop yourself from calling out his name. Your legs wrap around his head, wanting to pull him closer to you in any way possible.

Closing your eyes, you feel that white hot feeling flooding through your veins, but right as you're about to reach your peak, he pulls his fingers out and his mouth away from you.

You let out a guttural sound, one of desperation which causes Negan to laugh under his breath.

"Negan, God, please," you whine, putting both your hands on his head and pushing him back down.

"So bossy," he mumbles with a smile on his face, but he obliges.

He doesn't use his fingers on you again, but it makes no difference. You're already pent up enough as it is that it won't take a lot to make you reach your peak. Plus, you don't doubt that Negan's skillful mouth is more than enough for you.

He circles his tongue around your clit, going back to sucking while using his free fingers to absentmindedly trace little patterns into your thighs. The only noises are your heavy pants and the wetness of his mouth against you, and it fills the otherwise deadly silent bedroom.

He's starting to become more familiar with your body and your reactions and he can tell you're getting close again. To which he stops and pulls away yet again.

"Negan," you almost cry. Tears prick in the corners of your eyes as you throb for him. "Please, I need to-"

"I got you baby," he assures you, stroking the flesh of your thighs comfortingly.

You can't bare it. You almost despise him for doing this to you, but you can't. It's all so surreal: having this man between your thighs. So often you have fantasized of it and though it's so wrong, it's now happening.

Before you can beg again, his lips make contact with you. This time he's a man on a mission. His tongue flicks against your clit as two of his fingers slip back inside you. You're so wet that it's an easy motion, but you still feel the tight, delicious stretch. He allows you to get used to it, building you up until he adds a third finger and you have to use all your power not to yell out his name. You try your hardest not to hurt Negan by squeezing your thighs too much or pulling his hair too hard, but he loves it. He loves driving you crazy, seeing you unwind for him. The noises you make. The taste of you.

Relentlessly, he penetrates you with his fingers, pushing and curling his fingers deep inside you, hitting a spot that eventually brings you your release. One last push, one last flick of his tongue and you're falling over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can't help the animalistic sound that leaves you as white flashes behind your eyelids. He continues eating you out through your orgasm and it hits you that you think you're doing something you never have before.

Once you manage to come around again, you let your legs relax and look down to Negan who looks up at you. He smiles smugly, your wetness remaining in his beard and it causes you to go weak in the knees.

"Did I just-?" Squirt, you want to say. But somehow it doesn't seem like the nicest word to describe what just happened between of the two.

He nods with a glimmer in his eyes as he makes his way up the bed, his body above yours.

"I've never-" you croak. "I've never done that before."

"You just needed a man, that's all," he gloats and you roll your eyes. "It was hot as fuck, for what it's worth."

He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on him.

You're still shaking a little, but you manage to pull back a little to look him in his eyes.

"Are we really doing this?" You ask, bordering on timid.

"Do you want to?" He counters.

"Yes," you say, quickly, not wanting him to think you're having doubts. Because there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that you want the man above him. Hell, you need him. But somehow you find yourself feeling a little insecure and needing reassurance. "Do you?"

"Darling," he laughs. "Not to be crude, but you just came all over my face. I want this more than you know."

You nod and smile, feeling more confident. "I'm sorry, I just-"

He interrupts your babbling with a long kiss to your lips, silencing you.

"You need to worry less," he says, bringing his hand to stroke your cheek sweetly.

"Make me." You propose flirtingly, smiling up at him.

"That I can do." His lips crash down on yours and his tongue intertwines with yours.

Reaching down to his pants you fumble with his zip, which he helps your shaky hands undo. He shifts both his pants and boxers down off his ankles, and though you can't see his length fully from this angle, you can feel its hardness press against your lower stomach and he feels big.

"You ready, baby?" He raises his brow at you as he grips his member and teases it through your folds.

"Yes, please Negan," you pant, even after having the best orgasm of your life, you still need more. "Need you inside me."

He groans as he slips inside of you and the way you practically beg for him drives him crazy.

"So fucking tight, holy shit," he mumbles into your ear, his head dropping down to bite and suck on the crook of your neck. "Oh, baby, fuck."

Hearing him say such obscene things affects you in an indescribable way. His voice has always been massively attractive to you, but now...you're done for. The deep rumble, smooth like honey, even lower in an attempt to remain quiet to your family in the surrounding bedrooms. It's like dark magic. It has you hooked. He could say the right thing to you with that voice and you'd cum right there and then.

His movements are slow, savoring the sensation of you around him. He wants to take his time with you. He never wants it to be over.

Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his back and lift your hips up wanting more from you. He maintains his pace, but does start pushing deeper inside you like you wanted.

"I've wanted you for so long," you say, not even in control of your words anymore. It's like he's fucking them right out of you. He moans into your neck at your admission and starts thrusting a little faster, as if in response to your statement.

"Do you know-" he stops speaking for a moment to breathe and compose himself, clearly enjoying this as much as you, "how often I get myself off thinking about you?" He punctuates his point with a particularly hard thrust and that - in combination with the idea of him masturbating to the thought of you - causes you to cry out. You thought he would shush you, but he seems too far gone at this point.

"A fucking pretty little thing like you," he says, his hands groping at your tits, his touch rougher than before, "it'd be hard not to."

"Oh god," you whimper. "Harder, please."

His movements get harsher gradually, following your command and getting you closer and closer every second.

He lifts his head up and the way he looks at you makes your insides collapse. To be the sole object of his attention. How he looks at you like you're all that ever mattered.

"I'm so close, Negan," you tell him.

"Taking me so fucking well, darling," he praises, reaching one hand down to lazily play with your clit. That's all it takes and he can feel it coming as you begin to squeeze around him. He takes your lips in a long, sensual kiss as you climax, trying to muffle your moans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your hands are wrapped around his back, squeezing into his shoulders as you try your hardest to be quiet. Pure pleasure surges through your veins as he presses his entire body weight into you: suffocating in the most beautiful way possible.

Gradually, Negan's movements come to a halt and he stops moving inside you briefly, letting go of you come down from your high.

"You're gonna be the fucking death of me," he declares and before you can reply, he suddenly starts moving inside you again, faster than the last time, placing a quick peck on the tip of your nose as he does so.

He soon reaches a pace much faster than before and you're rendered speechless.

Your attention is grabbed, however, by the open and shut of a door somewhere. You gasp and your eyes widen at the sound. The possibilities of who it could be and if they'd heard you start to race through your mind but your thoughts are cut off when Negan clasps a hand firmly over your mouth to keep you quiet. He presses you further into the mattress as he fucks you even harder than before, enjoying tormenting you.

You listen closely to the footsteps. They're quite loud - that of a man - probably your dad or uncle. The pitter patter grows closer and your heard races, both from the fear of getting caught and from the sensation of Negan deep inside you. Hitting places you're sure no other man ever has or ever could. You relax a little as you hear the footsteps pass Negan's bedroom and head into the shared bathroom, the door closing afterwards.

Negan takes his hand off your mouth and you gasp for air.

"Oh my god, please don't stop," you beg as he sets a pace and sticks with it, snaking his slender fingers back down to your clit and circling it gently.

"I don't plan on," he chimes. "You're taking me so well."

You've never felt anything like this. Your entire body is numb and slick with sweat. All you can do is grab onto his hair and try your best to lift your hips to meet his thrusts.

To help you out, he grabs your body and switches positions slightly. He lifts himself up then clutches your thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders. Then his hands grip onto your hips and he has access to you in a way that allows him to go much deeper. You know you can't take much more. You're close to crying just from how much you want to scream his name.

Your eyes keep fluttering shut but you force them opening, wanting to keep them on the man doing this to you. His tousled hair, his flexed biceps, his tattooed chest.

"Harder, please," you whisper. "I'm nearly there."

Thrusting harder, he also adds his fingers back to your clit, rubbing harshly. It's almost painful on your sensitive nerves but it feels unreal and it's enough to build you up to near-ecstasy.

Your mouth hangs open but you refrain from making any noise. In one unexpected motion, he lands a slap to your clit and it sends your orgasm rushing.

"Good girl, that's it," he guides you through as your body starts to spasm.

He continually pounds into you and turns his head to the side to place soft kisses to your inner thigh, contrasting the way he now ruthlessly moves inside of you.

You contract around him as you cum and you can tell he is trying his hardest to hold on as he visibly hesitates, not knowing where to release.

"Cum inside me, Negan," you give permission. "Want it so bad."

Those words were all he needed as he spills inside you, the warm liquid filling you.

Gradually, his movements slow down as he fucks you through the both of your orgasms, fucking his cum deeper inside you, and then pulls out and collapses next to you.

You rest your head on his shoulder and to your surprise, he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss to your forehead.

"Holy shit," you giggle, the whole situation setting in.

Negan's about to speak but his sentence stops forming when the bathroom door opens and closes again. You'd completely forgot about that.

The two of you exchange a glance as you wait for the footsteps to disappear down the hallway. Once they're gone, you relax back into his embrace.

Absentmindedly, you place your hand on Negan's warm chest, tracing the ink of his tattoos. Its surprisingly comforting having him this close, to be held by him. You're entranced by the smell of his cologne and the way his chest heaves up and down, catching his breath. He smiles as he watches you, equally as entranced by you. He can't quite believe that the daydreams he thought were exactly that - daydreams - have come to life.

"We'll have to do this again," he grins coyly, "some place where you can scream my name as loud as you need to." His hands run over your body, cupping your breasts as if to appreciate as much of you as possible.

"I'd like that," you smile back, snuggling into his arms. You know you can't stay here all night, but you'll appreciate it for as long as possible.

#negan fic #negan x reader #negan twd #negan smut #negan smith #the walking dead fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan smut #jeffrey dean morgan #negan smith smut

[arthenaa]

Unspoken Attraction — Sebastian Sallow x Reader

PLOT SUMMARY:

The girls and you have a talk on who they'll date amongst the students in Hogwarts. No one mentions Sebastian despite being deemed the most handsome in your year. You wonder why?

DISCLAIMER:

gossip gossip hihi, imelda being the best and just roasts every1 esp seb, seb being down bad, realizations, friends 2 lovers, kiss kiss fall in love, gender neutral reader, readers house is up to u, fluff disgusting fluff, i love u sallow boy.

"I think Amit is quite handsome. I suppose he'd be a good conversation partner." Natty hums as she rests her chin on the palm of her hand. Imelda looks at her with disgust.

"He'd probably love astronomy more than you in your relationship. I'd punch him on the first date." Imelda scoffs, rolling her eyes. Poppy just gives the Slytherin gal a glare for her unkind words.

The four of you were lounging in the empty Beasts classroom, relaxing in the cool breeze coming from the forest. Professor Howin had allowed the four of you (originally you and Poppy, but Imelda and Natty had passed by and decided to tag along) to stay in the classroom in hopes of teaching the new 5th year (You) more about Beasts but all you've done in the past hour is sit on one of the tables and talk about the most random of things. Now you were talking about who to date in Hogwarts.

"What about Yrma?" Poppy suggests. "She's nice."

"Stop suggesting Ravenclaws. I physically cannot handle it." Imelda grunts. You shoot her a sympathetic look to which she flips you off. "Also, she's a third year. I'd die if you pair me up with someone younger. A journalist, too, she'd know every step I'll do, and I'll just have an aneurysm because of it."

"Alright, what about Weasley?" You suggest. Natty makes a look, considering the option. Poppy sighs and shakes her head.

"Which one?" Imelda jokes, to which Natty smacks her arm. Poppy rolls her eyes before answering the question.

"He's cute but too mischievous." Poppy lists. Imelda nods, agreeing with her statement. Poppy pets the Puffskein sleeping on her lap, smiling softly at the cute creature snoring away.

"Eh. He's fun. I can probably handle him." Natty says. You let out a small laugh.

"I'll pass. He's like a brother to me. Probably because Professor Weasley acts too much like a mom." You reply. You lean closer to Poppy, glancing down at the Puffskein to coo at it.

"What about Dale? She's cute." Natty suggests. She then turns to Imelda, who looks like she'd complain once more about a Ravenclaw being listed. "Don't."

"What? I wasn't gonna say anything..."

"It's because her past lover was from Ravenclaw that she's like this." Poppy says with a disappointed look on her face. "Clumping up all Ravenclaws and putting your prejudice that was originally for one person into the general public, huh?"

"Shut it, Sweeting." Imelda glares at her.

"Alright, stop fighting. I know you'd rather date a Hufflepuff, Reyes." You tease. The Slytherin's cheeks flush, and a harsh kick to your knee sends you jolting up against the table with a pained groan. The Puffskein awakens to the sudden harsh movement and jumps off Poppy's lap.

"Imelda!" Poppy whines as she watches the Puffskein hop away to its den. "Look at what you did!"

"How'd you even know it was me?!" Imelda complains. Poppy crosses her arms over her chest.

"You're seated directly in front of Y/N. They'd never jump for no reason, and also, Natty's an angel. Besides, I could feel the kick." Poppy chastised. Imelda looks away with furrowed eyebrows and a pout as she grumbles about it, not being her fault. You look at the two with a smile.

"It's okay, Poppy, let's just continue." You send Imelda a knowing smile to which she scowls at. Natty giggles at the interaction.

"Ooh, what about Gaunt?" Natty wiggles her eyebrows. "He's a young lord. Deemed one of the most handsome in our year. I'd date him."

"Really? You'd get pulverized by his crazy blood status fanatic of a family." Imelda leans forward to place her arms on the table before leaning down to rest her head on it. "But I guess he's decent. The type to defend you against them. A typical romantic cliche."

"Doesn't he have a lover?" Poppy mentions. Imelda immediately rises up at the information.

"Oh yeah. I saw them snogging near DADA. Sebastian looked like he was constipated, muttered about when it was his turn to be happy or something." Imelda cringes at the memory. At the mention of the Sallow boy's name, Natty and Poppy glance at each other with knowing looks. Suddenly, their attention is on you.

"What about you, Y/N? Will you date Ominis?" Poppy smiles knowingly. There's something about the two's stare that puts you in an uncomfortable position.

"Uh..." You purse your lips in thought. Ominis was one of your best friends. He had been with you through thick and thin, but that's all he ever was. Besides, he was happily in love with someone else. "Not really? Same answer with Gareth's."

Natty nods in understanding. Imelda glances at the two in confusion. "Why do you two look like you're the one who's constipated?"

"Shut it, Reyes." Poppy rolls her eyes. You laugh at their bickering. At this point, there was one person who definitely should be mentioned in this conversation. He was already well known in the school for his charming personality and handsome looks. People always gossip about him. You let out a shaky breath before nervously glancing at the three.

"What about Sebastian?" You suggest. The three fall in silence, not responding to the question. It didn't even look like they were contemplating about it. "Hello? Did you not hear me or what—"

"Oh no, we heard you." Imelda chuckles as she smirks at her. When Imelda smirks, you know it's not good. "I just don't think we can claim him."

"Claim him?" You tilt your head in confusion. "You make it sound like he's already dating someone."

"Ehh..." Natty shrugs her shoulders. "Aren't you?"

"Aren't I what? Huh?" You sat, baffled at their curious looks. "I'm not dating Sebastian?"

The three look at each other before laughing. It wasn't even a casual laugh, it's full on stomach grabbing, tear inducing, I'm-gonna-pee what the fuck laugh. You look at them in confusion.

"Merlin, I can't take this seriously." Natty wipes a tear from her eyes as she continues to laugh.

"I'm really not dating him!?"

"You're so funny!" Imelda pats your shoulder. "Don't tell me kissing each other everywhere except the lips counts as friendly. Who the fuck kisses their friend on the neck?"

"Uh, she has a point." Poppy shrugs. "He walks you to class, holds your hand, and not even in a normal way. It's the intertwined one, and if looks could kill, Garreth Weasley had already been buried months ago."

"Also, he always touches you. An arm on your waist, hugging you from behind, fixing your hair, looking at you like you're the Messiah yourself." Natty lists on, continuing Poppy's evidence. Surely not?

You stare at them with wide eyes and an unreadable look. You and Sebastian had always had a strong bond. Ominis often commented about feeling left out whenever you two were together. You always thought that he was just teasing you about it. The things that you've gone through had eliminated all barriers between the two of you, so physical affection had seem normal for you. Had the line between friends and more than friends became too blurred already?

"Merlin's beard. You don't know!" Natty gasps in shock. "Rafiki, that is more than just friendship."

"But I'm really not..." You try to defend yourself, but the more that they stare at you, the more you start to realize how obvious it should've been. Before you could try and convince yourself about how ludicrous it is all, Imelda delivers the final blow.

"Love, everyone knows Sebastian is yours."

Heat rises to your cheeks, and as if things couldn't get any worse, a familiar voice calls out to your little group.

"There you are!" Sebastian Sallow, the devil himself, grins as he approches your little group with Ominis trailing behind. The three cough at his sudden appearance and you freeze in your seat.

He makes his way behind you, grasping your shoulder firmly before leaning down close to your face. "Hey, I'm here. No greeting?"

You turn your head towards him, glancing at the three girls who look away, trying to contain their laughter. You look back at Sebastian, who smiles, expecting something. You sigh, giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek. He lights up like a Christmas tree.

At the sight of affection, the three suddenly stand up, collecting their things. "O-oh I just remembered I forgot to water the chinese cabbages again, haha! Silly me! I better go get it!" Natty says with a poorly concealed smile. Sebastian looks at her, confused.

"Uh? Okay?" Sebastian awkwardly laughs. You glared at her as she grabbed Imelda and Poppy who make haste in gathering their things.

"I also have to bring them and Ominis because of ... uh... safety." Natty bullshits her way through as Imelda grabs the young Gaunt's arm, pulling him with them.

"Huh what? I didn't get a say in th—" Poppy covers his mouth as they walk away, dragging him along. Natty gives her a final thumbs up of encouragement as the two of you watch in confusion. You watch as their figures disappear before the boy beside you finally breaks the silence.

"There they go." Sebastian sighs. "I was hoping I'd get to hang out, but oh well. I don't really have complaints with just us here."

You flush at his bluntness as he sits down beside you, pulling your figure to his arms. He hugs you tightly before resting his head on your shoulder. "History of Magic felt like forever. I swear I'd never be able to stay awake in that class. Binns must've put something in the air."

You couldn't focus. He's so close.

"Lucky that you and Ominis get to share that class. At least you'd have someone to suffer with." He jokes as he raises his head. Silence engulfs you both as he stares at your face.

"Stop." You groan as you try to push his face away, but he only grasps your hand in his palm.

"Why? You look like you're about to explode." He laughs softly. You still couldn't look at him, eyes trained at the table in front of you. To make things worse, he grabs your chin before softly turning your head towards him.

"I'm talking to you. Look at me." He mumbles lowly in a deep voice. You almost wanted to whimper at how attractive that was.

"Stop doing that, I swear." You whisper as you look at him, nervousness creeping. He smirks, leaning in.

"Why? You seem so quiet today." He chuckles, pulling you closer as he tucks a stray hair away from your face. "What's got your pretty little head busy, hm?"

"You." You admit as your eyes admire his features. He lets out a soft smile.

"Me?"

"Yeah." You raise your hands to cup his cheeks. The two of you had been sitting so close that if you just lean a little bit forward, you'd be able to kiss him.

"Yeah?" He raises his eyebrows in amusement as his gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips.

"You're so annoying." You pout. He bites his lip before dropping his head on your shoulder. Your fingers then softly scratch his scalp and twirling his curls. He raises his head back up before unashamedly stares at your lips.

"I don't need to tell you what's going to happen, right?" He whispers. You gulp nervously as your arms slide up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Mhm." You hum before placing a chaste kiss on his lips, testing the waters. He lets out a shaky breath at the sudden action. You look up at his eyes, trying to discern if what you did was okay before he grins fully and leans back down to kiss you again.

Your body unconsciously pushes against him, craving his touch. You tenderly kiss him back, hands occuppied with his soft hair. His hands rub your lower back gently as he continues to kiss you. You don't know how much time has passed before you pull away. You both smile at each other before Sebastian leans forward to give you more pecks on the lips. You giggle at his behavior.

"I like you." He whispers, nudging his nose against yours. You smile at his confession, palms now cupping his cheeks. You press a firm kiss on his lips before staring at him in adoration.

"I like you too."

A/N 1.1 : IM DEAD i love this. Also im not sure if I said friend in Swahili right ,,, lmk if its correct 🫶

A/N 1.2 : TYSM FOR ENJOYING THIS LOVE U ALL

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy #poppy sweeting #imelda reyes #natsai onai #ominis gaunt

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: "Okay ha ha, very funny. Who stole me and Charlie's laundry out of the dryer again- Angel Dust!"

Angel Dust: "Wasn' me."

Vaggie: "Are you wearing my fucking skirt!?"

Angel Dust: "Ooooh~ it's a FUCKIN' skirt, huh? This one kept special for when Charlie jumps ya?"

Vaggie: "Que te la pique un pollo- NO."

Angel Dust: "Aw c'mon toots, we all know you have one~"

Vaggie: "Give me back. My skirt. You. Ass."

Angel Dust: "Speakin' of... is it really still YOUR skirt, Vagina, if MY ass is the one lookin' so utterly fine and fabulous in it?"

Vaggie: "YOU DONT HAVE AN ASS, ANGEL DUST."

Angel Dust: "Yeah? Then what's this beautiful thang here, hmm?"

Vaggie: "I don't know because there's nothing there for you to even POINT at, twig twink!"

Husk: "HA!"

Angel Dust: "Ugh fiiine. Since you're being nice an' usin' my preferred pronouns-"

Vaggie: "Twig???"

Husk: "Twink."

Angel Dust: "-I'll hand over the girlfriend-fucking skirt. The delicius heat from the dryer's mostly gone now anyway. Jus' lemme grab something to throw on over it first..."

Vaggie: "Seriously? THAT'S why you took it?? Dryer heat?"

Angel Dust: "Next best thing to hot bath at the end of a day's hard work, baby! A day's VERY hard, throbbing, aching work-"

Vaggie: "I will throw this spear at you. I WILL ruin your stupid hair."

Husk: "Fucking do it."

Vaggie: "YOU shut up too. You're the one who taught him this in the first place, aren't you?"

Husk: "WHAT? I don't put on your fucking skirts!"

Angel Dust: "Wha' about her non-fucking ones?"

Husk & Vaggie: "Shut up."

Angel Dust: "Touché~ Protestin' too much, me thinks~”

Vaggie: "Husk- we all know you're the one waiting for the dryer to finish so you can drag the laundry onto the floor and sleep on it!"

Husk: "That's bullshit- you've got no proof-"

Angel Dust: "Cat hair, Mr. Whiskers."

Husk: "The fucking hotel has a cat!"

Vaggie: "That smells like a bar and also sheds feathers?"

Husk: "FUCK."

Angel Dust: "Don't break yourself up over it, kitten daddy- If you hadn't shown me the joys of laundry shopping, I'd never have known how GOOD I look in this jacket."

Vaggie: "???? You- IS THAT CHARLIE'S!?!?"

Angel Dust: "Goes good with the skirt, huh? If you two had a kid, they'd fucking SLAY."

Vaggie: "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING HER JACKET"

Angel Dust: "Look- she's the only one in this fancy prancy hotel that's got the same measurements as me, at least in the shoulder, hips, and torso department! The only one who's clothes don't smell like dead deer and dusty old radios, anyway!! I'm kinda low on options here, okay?"

Vaggie: "WHAT ABOUT THE OPTION OF DON'T StEAL OUR STUFF?? THAT'S LIKE, THE EASIEST FUCKING OPTION YOU COULD HAVE!"

Angel Dust: "Orrrrr, you two could adopt me as you gay lovechild and give me some fuckin' hand me downs. Or money."

Vaggie: “OUR WHAT!?”

Angel Dust: “Fuck it, give me money an’ I’ll buy my own clothes, mom.”

Vaggie: “I. Am. NOT-”

Charlie: “-hey guys! Has anyone seen my….”

Charlie: “…uh, Vaggie? Why is Angel Dust dressed like our gay lovechild?”

Angel Dust: “HA!”

Charlie: “And did he just call you ‘mom??’”

Vaggie: “I give up. Anyone needs me, I’ll be in the laundry room, shoving myself in the dryer on the hellfire setting.”

Husk: “You’ll have to fucking drag Niffty out first.”

Vaggie: “What.”

Charlie: “What?”

Angel Dust: “WHAT”

Husk: “She was crawling in head first when I left after waking up- uhh- after getting something.”

Angel Dust: (shrieking) “AN’ YOU LEFT HER THERE???”

Vaggie: “Oh shit-”

Charlie: “Vaggie- go! Fly!! Go go go now Now NOW- EMPLOYEE IN THE INDUSTRIAL CLEANING EQUIPMENT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!”

- meanwhile, in the laundry room-

THUMP THUMP THUMP

THUMP…. Thump………… thump

Alastor: “…”

Alastor: (reaches over to knock on dryer door)  

Alastor: “Having fun, dear?”

Niffty: (flopping limply half out of dryer) (battered) (scorched) (GRINNING) “Ow pain!”

Alastor: “Quite.”

Niffty: “Heheheh… heHEHEHEH.”

Niffty: (sets the dryer to max again) “More…. PAIN!!!” (shuts door from the inside) (grins from other side with her face pressed against the glass)

Alastor: “Fascinating.”

Thump…Thump. Thump. THUMP THUMPTHUMP-

Cherri Bomb: “…”

Cherri Bomb: “…Know what? You kids have fun. I’m just gonna go, like, break into someone’s house and murder them so I can use their washer and dryer. That’ll be less fucked up than….. whatever this is.” (hefts basket of bloody laundry and bombs) (waves over her shoulder while leaving) “Bye~”

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #angel dust hasbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #chaggie #charlie morningstar #alastor the radio demon #niffty hazbin hotel #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #silly nonsense #that feeling when your coworker leaves their own bloodstains on the inside of the dryer machine #so you need to wash it before anyone can do laundry again #(and before cherri bomb can try quick-drying stuff with explosives in the mean time) #(......again)

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 11

part 1 | part 10 | ao3

cw: period-typical homophobic language, explicit sexual content (if you are under 18 then kindly GO ON NYOW GIT come back when you grow your first gray pube)

It feels crazy, after all that, to just get up and face the day. Feels like last Fall all over again: he’s concussed in the back of class getting bagel crumbs on a worksheet with his face still pulverized. There’s a gross pang in his chest as he goes about his morning routine, his heart all squishy and bruised like some dickhead smashed a plate over it, but whatever, he guesses. Public education and minimum wage wait for no one.

Robin grills him the whole car ride: “Oh, my god, is he okay?? Is he alive? Is your mom okay? What the hell, Steve?” and he lets her ramble with wide, worried eyes; doesn’t even get to the part about Eddie. When they pull up to the school she gets out of the car and comes around to his side, knocks on his window and leans in when he rolls it down to give him a ridiculously long hug.

"Robinnn," he grumbles; his face is mashed against her boobs. "People are gonna think we're dating."

She bends to hug him tighter still, her bony ass hanging out his window where the whole school can see. "I'd date you in a second."

"You've literally said that you wouldn't."

"Platonically, I would!!"

She gives him one last squeeze, and he watches her waddle off, trumpet case awkwardly smacking her calves.

And then he just... goes to work. He goes to stand around a nearly empty store and pretend like he even has any work to do, restocks the already full displays of candy and buffs the countertops until they shine. Three hours in and he's run out of ways to look busy and Keith is “doing admin stuff” in the back, so he gives his mom a call. Makes sure she's okay; did she eat anything yet; any updates on Ernie?

She’s fine, she's not hungry, he's alive but that's all they know for now, her tone distantly polite like Steve's nothing more than a friendly cold caller.

He shoves his fingers in his eyes ’til he sees stars when they hang up.

He calls the Henderson house next, leaves a message to apologize for skipping out early, promises that he'll be there next Wednesday and he can bring dessert this time. There’s a lunch rush after that, but the day still drags like a bad hangover, a dull throbbing in his bones, and when he finally gets home he collapses onto his bed and passes out on top of the covers with his dumb work vest still on.

—

Eddie's acting weird.

Steve sees him again on Friday, spots him and his uncle having a smoke out on the porch and wanders over to say hello. Wayne seems happy enough to chat; gives him all the news on Ernie — "Bastard's unkillable," he says, almost impressed. He’s stable now, should be home any day.

Eddie, on the other hand, spends the entire interaction behaving like a skittish cat, eyes darting to and from Steve, leg jiggling as he quietly puffs his cig.

Steve half expects him to slink off and come back to drop a dead mouse at his feet.

He feels his brows knit together, agitation creeping in. It's not like he thought they'd be best friends after a single night of ceasefire or anything — as if they'd start braiding each other's hair and trading their deepest, darkest secrets or whatever queer shit — but like…

He thought they might be cool now. At least a little bit.

And Eddie's not being rude to him, exactly, but that's somehow even worse. The polite disinterest. The subtle shift to the left. Back and away.

“Okay, well, uh...” Steve glances at Eddie, who's looking anywhere but him. Fucking fascinated by a loose thread on his ripped jeans, apparently, plucking at it with anxious fingers. “See ya around, I guess?”

Wayne says not be a stranger, and Eddie gives him a quick nod. “See ya.”

Steve grinds his teeth about it for the rest of the afternoon, then decides, like, screw this. It's a Friday night; he's not sitting around sulking all evening because Eddie Munson hurt his feelings.

He calls up a girl — some pretty blonde chick he remembers from the cheer squad — and sets up a date for later that night. Takes her to the drive-in, buys her a vanilla shake. The date's fine; it's good; it's fine. She's pretty enough, and she offers to suck him off when the main feature starts.

It’s not a good blowjob. Arguably one of the worst ones Steve’s had, and he’s had quite a few. She keeps gagging herself with these gross squelching sounds, barely getting even half of his dick in her tiny mouth and not bothering to use her hands to make up the difference. Just leaves them resting on Steve’s thighs while she makes fake whimpering moans like she’s sooo turned on by this; fucking as if; and somewhere in the middle of her repetitive, sloppy bobbing his mind starts to wander off. To the trailer, to the lot fees, the fucking pharmacy bills. Their ever-dwindling savings and what percentage of them he just wasted on this lackluster movie night; surely they’re gonna run out any day now; tick tock, tick tock.

"Um," the girl squeaks as she pulls off with a gross slurp. Steve looks down at his lap, sees he's gone soft. "Am I, like, doing something wrong, or...?"

Her voice is high and quiet, innocent and sweet, and Steve feels like an asshole. He squeezes himself at the base, gives a few quick strokes to get himself up again. "No, you're perfect, honey," he lies. "Stick out your tongue for me?"

She bats her eyes demurely and rolls over onto her side, gives him some kind of sexy pout before opening her mouth so he can jerk off over her. Steve works his wrist; tries not to be rude and look away, but her colors are all wrong. Strawberry hair. Blue irises. He squeezes his eyes shut, moves his hand faster and thinks of dark brown. Dark hair, dark lashes, dark eyes like the deep woods. Endless. Sort of mesmerizing. Nancy? "Oh, fuck," he gasps as he comes.

The girl squeals and jerks away from him, hands flying to her face. "Oh, my god! Oh, my god! You got it in my nose!"

"Sorry,” Steve grunts, shuddering through an aftershock. There’s cum on his hand, on his pants; all over this poor girl’s face. He thinks he got some in her eyelashes. "Shit, sorry, let me, uh—"

He leans over and rifles through the glove box, trying to find a napkin for her. No dice. Best he can do is an old McDonald's wrapper with a grease stain on the side. "Here, does— does this work?"

“Ew!”

“Sorry, I mean it’s that or my shirt, but then I’d have to drive you home shirtless, so-”

“Ugh,” she gives him a bitchy look. Tries to, anyway. One eye is glued shut. “Just give me that, please.”

His limp, spitty cock is still hanging from his pants when he passes her the wrapper. Flaccid and sad, like a white flag of surrender, and a bubble of hysterical laughter slips out. A choked burst of it, a pufferfished pfffft as it explodes past his lips. He’s not sure if it's the orgasm or the ridiculousness of the situation or if he's just plain lost his mind, but the girl glares at him, which...

There's still a glob of jizz on her cheek, so it doesn’t help matters much.

"I think you should take me home."

"Y-yep. Sorry. Yeah."

“Like now.”

Steve tucks himself into his jeans.

—

part 12

tagging whoever commented yesterday if your settings will let me @slutforcoffein @annabanannabeth @rani-mayida @awolfstudio @noodle-shenaniganery @yourmom-isgay @zombiecreatures @anne-bennett-cosplayer @thestarslittleking @evillittleguy @acedorerryn @messrs-weasley @bronwenmarie @lololol-1234 @estrellami-1 @jaytriesstuff @space-invading-pigeon @violetsteve @ahsokatanoss @slowandsteddie @zoeweee @silver-snaffles @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @thealwithnoname @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @hellion-child @stevesbipanic @trensu @steves-strapcollection @hotluncheddie

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #wayne munson #claudia henderson #st fic #my writing #my fic

[ghostlykeyes]

Hello! :)

First, I'd like to say that I've been enjoying your works so much! They're so well-written and fun to read ^^ I especially loved the one with Kayn and a cute partner, it was so sweet! <3

If it's alright (and there's no worries if not!), may I ask for either Sett or Yone with a shy, soft-spoken partner? Both seem like they'd make a cute pairing! Just completely sfw please.

Tysm! 🩷💫

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HEARTSTEEL SETT/ SHY READER ♡ Gender Neutral ♡ SFW ♡ No TWs ♡ YESSSS I'm so excited to write for Sett ! While the amount of Kayn content might indicate otherwise I have ALWAYS been a Sett main and I will ALWAYS maintain he is BEST BOI ♡ Thank you for your kind words anon! Hope you enjoy ~

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

SETT

Wonderful, sweet Sett—he can tell exactly when you're worried about a social situation. All it takes is a look, and he knows that you're stuck in your own head, stressed about meeting new people or replaying the last conversation you stumbled through. "Hey," he says gently, bumping you with his shoulder. "You okay?" Sett listens as you talk through your concerns, rubbing a comforting thumb over your knuckles. He's silent until you finish. "I know other people can be rough" he says once you've expressed your struggles. "But honestly? Screw what anyone else thinks about you. You're sweet, kind, cute..." Sett continues the list until he coaxes a smile out of you. "But for real," he says, once you feel better. "I think you're the greatest. If someone else can't see that just because you're a little shy, that's their loss."

Sett knows he's got those Scary Boyfriend Privileges and he's not afraid to put them to work for you. Trapped in a conversation? He'll stand behind you, arms crossed, and glare. Usually the other person says their goodbyes pretty quickly. Need to confront someone? Any disagreement, big or small; say less. Sett is there, definitely not flexing menacingly. And asserting yourself? Well, telling your roommate to do their own dishes is a hell of a lot easier with over six feet of solid muscle backing you up.

Whenever you've got something to say, Sett shushes everyone so that you can speak. It's a little embarrassing, suddenly having all the attention suddenly on you. You do have to admit, though, it's nice to have people actually listen to you for once.

Obviously he can't avoid fans approaching him, but Sett feels so bad whenever you're out together and someone recognizes him. You've already got limited social energy, and now you have to waste it playing nice with heart-eyed fangirls ogling your boyfriend? He understands it's not pleasant. "Sorry, baby," he says to you. "I'll make it quick, I promise." After taking a selfie or two with them, he politely but insistently makes an excuse to leave. "Awesome to meet you," he smiles, winding his fingers through yours, "but we gotta go. Heartsteel schedules, man!" After you make your escape, Sett bends down to kiss your forehead and apologizes for the unwanted attention.

The best way Sett supports you in social situations is through his body language. He comforts you with the soft pressure of a hand on your back, or a reassuring thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles. When you speak, he turns his head to you, fully engaged. And, if you're in a group, he always makes sure to angle his body so that you're included in the circle.

When introducing you to his mom, Sett sticks to you like velcro. The two people he cares about most, finally meeting? Of course he wants it to go well! He practically hovers over you, trying to give you as much support as he can. You can barely go to the bathroom without him chaperoning. Bless his heart, though—he's so nervous and eager to please both his mom and you that it actually ends up making you more withdrawn. Thankfully, his mom—angel that she is—notices how nervous you are. She gives you a comforting smile (the exact same one her son often offers you, you note) and tells you both to relax. "Don't pressure yourself, my dear," she says to you. "My son adores you, which means I do, too. You've already got my approval." Her kindness and warmth is incredibly disarming, and you find it's very easy to come out of your shell around her.

God help the poor soul who tries to speak over you. Sett gets so pissed whenever anyone cuts you off. It doesn't matter if it's a Heartsteel member, or one of your friends, or, fuck it, your own damn mother—Sett's jaw locks and he gives them the dirtiest of dirty looks. "Uh, hey? I think they were trying to say something," he interrupts them, voice firm and eyes hard. And with Sett glaring down at them like that, all bulging muscles and barely-concealed growls and pissed-off-boyfriend energy? They usually quiet down pretty quick, and you're free to continue. They're on Sett's shit-list for the next couple of days, though. He's giving them a glare every time your back is turned.

While Sett loves his bros in Heartsteel, he knows that they all have really big, loud personalities. It can be a lot to deal with, especially for someone so shy. So, he invites you to everything—music video filming, birthday parties, movie nights— but he makes it clear that he completely understands if you don't want to come. Oh, but if you do show up? He's over the moon, and he'll do anything to make sure you're as comfortable as possible. Feeling overwhelmed and need a social break? He'll step outside for a walk with you. Kayn's teasing you? Sett's got him in a 'friendly' headlock in .2 seconds. Said something embarrassing? Don't worry. Sett will immediately distract everyone, even if he's got to say something twice as embarrassing to change the subject. Whatever you need, he's got you.

#heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel #heartsteel x reader #Sett #Heartsteel Sett #Sett/reader #sett x reader #sett lol #sett league of legends

[sylveon-and-velveon]

Oh God can we please see what the slashers would do if you played 'Hopelessly Devoted To You' from Grease? Just in time for Valentines Day 🥺🥺🥺

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! For couples and singles {like me lol}

OMG yes! I loved watching Grease as a kid!! AFTER MAKING THIS: Should say somehow half of these became "love language" responses- I follow you, hol' up

This will include: Michael Myers {OG & RZ}, Brahms Heelshire, Jason Voorhees, Billy Lenz, Freddy Krueger, Stu Macher, Billy Loomis, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Harry Warden, Tiffany Valentine

Feel free to request any shitpost writing prompt ideas you can think of in my asks, I love silly non-serious ideas XD We besties if you give me Cupcakke remixes-

OG Michael Myers

It's giving lovesick, it's giving obsessed, it's giving "I'm not leaving you"

Well for Michael anyway-

He'd probably take the song a little too seriously, and think you're never gonna ever leave him.

He's never been the best at romance

Blame where he was "raised" for over a decade-

RZ Michael Myers

Just as much in the "never been good with romance" department

But hey, the music isn't loud and obnoxious so he doesn't mind as much to the music you're playing

Especially since it's not as vulgar like.... last time you played music around him

You music player lives to see another day!!

Brahms Heelshire

He sees it as a love language, that you're using music to properly show your love for him without feeling uncomfortable throughout it all

Yep, that's my new headcannon now. His love language is through music. Especially with pianos

He hears you playing that? Oh his heart is MELTING right then there!! He's gonna be giving you cuddles for DAYS after hearing that

Someone make this love language canon please-

Jason Voorhees

Imagine if his mom used to listen to this song?

Bringing him memories. Bittersweet ones probably

Unless you headcannon his mom's still alive, then just sweet

Unless you have a sad headcannon about his mom then you fucked either way mate TvT

But anyway, it brings him memories and he's enjoying the music with you

I kinda went on a Pamela rant there- XD

Billy Lenz

A little confused but he got the spirit

He ain't understanding a lot of it until he hears iconic line from the song

Then he running over to you and is NEVER letting you go

But he still confused

But he trying TvT

Freddy Kreuger

Okay.... here me out:

Yeah the dude will be ridiculous with goofy ass music

But with romantic related songs?

...

So you know how he has one hand that isn't covered with the glove?

And no, you're not getting anymore context to my thought process-

Stu Macher & Billy Loomis

Short and sweet, they'd both love it

Billy's calm about it, while Stu is just like a big doggy. Oh- he is SO happy!!

Billy ain't gonna stop him, it's a good song. And it makes the both of you happy

What's to complain?

Thomas Hewitt

Takes him a few seconds to understand the implications of this song but when he does he's gonna give you a big ass hug

Bone crushing? Probably-

It's Thomas, he'd probably accidently do it-

But he still loves you

Even if he accidently puts you in a wheelchair

Bubba Sawyer

Yeah you gotta explain the song, poor guy highly wouldn't understand the meaning

Or he would... but BARELY-

You gotta explain what the song's about, when he finally does understand he's gonna be so in love with you.

And the song

Like a little confession song... weird choice for a confession song. But you do you-

Harry Warden

A little old fashioned but he understands the song is romantic-esc

He'd vibe to song, bounce his head along to the beat a little

Tap his feet to beat as well, maybe change back and forth between the two

He's never watched the movie before but now the song makes him want to watch the movie

Specifically with you ^^

Tiffany Valentine

She's watched the movie, but she doesn't wanna admit it

But the second, THE SECOND, she hears you playing that song

Ohhhhhhhhhhh you two are singing that song together with no shame

It's her guilty pleasure song, but knowing that you listen to this song now makes her more confident!

Hell yeah!!!

#slasher #slasher x reader #slashers #michael myers #michael myers x reader #rz michael myers #rz myers x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #jason voorhees #jason voorhes x reader #billy lenz #black christmas #billy lenz x reader #freddy krueger #freddy krueger x reader #stu macher #billy loomis #stu macher x reader #billy loomis x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #harry warden x reader #harry warden #tiffany valentine

[azyimnothere]

HEEEEEELLLLOOOO GUYS GUYS GUYS!!!! 💙💙💙

How are we doing today? I know that they were doing great

It's pretty much an idealized version of what I think that Velchid selfie turned out like, I'd imagine that those little star cameras aren't all that great in resolution since they have so much going on in them to just be able to fly, do you think they'd be like drones or something? If that's the case I can just imagine how bad the paparazzi are in Mount Rageous, or would those cameras only be red carpet exclusive? Who knows, but either way I tried to make it look like a little shittier photo with a lot of blinga-ding from reflection and lights. I hope you guys like it! It isn't my best work to be honest but it's nice 😅

Oh and I don't know if this is already a thing or not, because I checked everywhere and couldn't really find it, tell me if you know someone who made this thingy first so I don't falsely claim it as mine okay?

So it's one where Orchid becomes a surprise assistant to Velvet and Veneer! (And of course Velchid is sprinkled in...not really sprinkled in, more like there's a full tub of salt)

So here's a little backstory if you want to know :D

As we know, there was mentioning of an assistant in the movie, or I just imagine it, I'm not sure atp it's 3 in the morning.

Anywhezel, so I thought it would be in one of those accidental encounters by chance.

Crimp had a hard day, on the verge of a breakdown every second because siblings became "kinda" overbearing, and with no assistant around to help (because they most likely quit), she had no help around them. There was nobody who was willing to take the job that was licensed for working and helping celebrities that way because of all the horror stories previous assistants shared around. Siblings didn't really care Crimp was alone with them, so they just put all the extra stuff on her.

Crimp knew she needed a bit of help purely to keep her sanity on the line with her, so she decided to take a walk and think about what to do next (after she made sure siblings were in bed of course). She sat on a bench in the nearest neon-colored park and cried, not knowing what else to do, and had to let it out.

But she heard someone approaching, turns out it was a purple haired mount rageon and she looked at Crimp sadly, and asking her what's wrong. That's how Crimp met Orchid!

Orchid was making her way from the grocery store and saw Crimp crying on the bench late at night, Orchid recognised her easily since Crimp was mentioned a few times by the siblings on social media, there were also some photos. Plus, despite being small she was hard to miss.

Crimp explained her situation and told Orchid she couldn't do everything alone anymore, and that no one was willing to take over a bit of the burden since the siblings simply scared everyone off. Which made Orchid feel sorry for her.

But Orchid figured, that she could perhaps help Crimp out, the job at that doughnut shop she worked at just wasn't payed enough for her to move out of her mom's apartment, she wasn't forced to move but craved some independence ever since she turned 18 (which wasn't that long ago).

A good bonus was that she got to work with her favorite duo! despite it probably, being a little challenging.

Orchid gave that proposition to Crimp, which made Crimp a bit sceptical, Orchid was a nice girl and didn't deserve that kind of stress, but Orchid persisted because Crimp didn't deserve all that stress either.

On the end Crimp agreed, it only had to go through the approval of the siblings first.

And as expected, Veneer didn't really mind who was helping Crimp as long as they helped Crimp in the first place, and everything gets done in time.

Velvet on the other hand wasn't all that for it, she remembered Orchid faintly from a memory of a concert, which meant Orchid was a fan, she didn't want some nosy stalker snooping around. But as she inspected further, and listened to what Crimp had to say, she reconsidered it and ended up agreeing, unenthusiastically.

So that's how Orchid is now a busy celebrity assistant for two.

The story is a little basic, but it is solid I think, there will probably be comics about it in the future if you're interested! 💕

Also here's some Ritzneer I didn't post, warning! Boys kissing!!!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Love you lovelies!!!! 💙💙💙💙

#digital art #how does one tag #digital fanart #artists on tumblr #fypシ #digital drawing #velvet trolls #velvet and veneer #velvet x orchid #velchid #veneer x kid ritz #trolls veneer #veneer fanart #velvet fanart #trolls #trolls movie #trolls fanart #trolls band together #trolls 3 #kid ritz trolls #kid ritz #ritzneer #my back is killing me #boys kissing #useless lesbians #uceless gays

[astrolavas]

Who do you think Hunter will stay with at the end of the show? Or who do you want him to stay with

tbh out of all the possible future caretakers of hunter, my primary hope for who will adopt him rn rly is camila. y'know, loved all the different possibilities too but…. camila ❤️❤️❤️ like, just. like. that's his MOMMMM

the vision of him living with camila (and luz and vee), going to hexside (cuz obv there's gonna a portal), and having a woodcarving mentorship under the clawthornes' and some mentorship under darius. and then once in a while occassionally staying over at the owl house.... Y'KNOW? so real.

camila's just too perfect of an option, LIKE. he spent months under her care already, he doesn't have even one bad experience with her that could possibly make him doubt and feel bad abt their relationship (no feeling like he needs to prove himself to gain her respect, no complicated past that'd have to be dealt with, no wondering if the care he's shown is genuine, no previous authority issues, no previous hostility etc etc) like camila's been extremely sweet and caring towards him and nothing else since the very start. it makes me sOO... 🤲😔❤️

the very first MOMENT they interact and hunter kneels in front of her out of respect she warmly tells him to never do it again; makes it clear that he doesn't have to be overly formal with her. just offers her kindness, expecting nothing in return. right away.

camila is probably the first adult ever that hunter associates with only warmth and goodness and whom he feels comfortable with from the start, with whom he doesn't have any past grudges or things they'd need to work out, just.. unconditional love. and justttt just just oughhhghh she called him baby. she's been basically treating him like her son already, and she's SUCH a good and supportive mom, to luz, to vee, to hexsquad. she taught him how to sew. she DIVED into FREEZING WATER at an OLD ABANDONED CEMETERY without a second thought in order to save him. JUST!!!!

him wanting to impress her with the spanish. her touching his shoulder and him showing not even an OUNCE of fear, just smiling and knowing she's not going to hurt him. him taking up interest in camila's and manny's old hobby. camila having experience with dealing with grief.. oof. him being happy living in the human realm (wanting to do things in the demon realm as well but having ties to BOTH worlds). even the fact that the entire noceda family is clearly neurodivergent, just like him. even him being an animal enjoyer and camila having a vet clinic, which- he WOULD LOVE to volunteer there in his free time, like?? COME ON.

AND THIS???? okay......

and we KNOW he WANTS to have a permanent family. it's established at the beginning of the episode when he looks sad as others hang up their family drawings. he wants ppl to care abt him, he wants to have a place to call home, wants to feel safe. he cries (from happiness) when luz calls him family.

and camila cares abt all of these kids so much. she was willing to take vee and hexsquad in JUST LIKE THAT. we can even assume her and manny wanted more kids, like just OUGHHGH she wouldn't even have to think twice before taking hunter in permanently. and she most likely knows hunter doesn't have anyone. she's not going to let him just….. go away on his own after everything is over, or make him move out or sth 💀 she'll want to help him, she'll want him to be safe and cared for.

like the only other possibilities for who else hunter could stay with after the show were: darius, eda/the clawthornes, or joint custody. but imo after... he lived under camila's roof for MONTHS, found a place that he feels safe in.. nocedas are just the best and healthiest option for him. after he'd spent MONTHS feeling happy with camila, i don't think it'd be good for him to be thrust into a completely new environment, and.. there's simply no time for his connection with other adults to be properly fleshed out, or to establish that he'd prefer anyone over nocedas.

like, i feel like sth has to happen with darius as well cuz their arc is unfinished, esp since it's been hinted they've grown closer since ASiAS, and there's a lot they could talk abt now re: grief + darius' mentor... so they HAVE to reunite at least. however, in my opinion at this point of the show there'd be just no time to conclude it as a parent-child bond in a satisfactory way. especially because there would be a LOT they'd have to work through first, considering their very complicated past.

like, all these years in the coven, their relationship pre-ASiaS, how darius treated hunter all these years... we know their relationship has progressed positively since ASiAS (even though mostly in the background/subtext) but still, i feel like it'd definitely take a while until hunter felt truly comfortable while living at darius'. he'd probably worry that it's conditional, could even easily fall back into his old coven mentality/habits, would try to make darius proud no matter what, etc. etc. it wouldn't be the healthiest for him. although eventually he would get comfortable, and that concept also had sm potential, but like the journey to that wouldn't be quick, and it'd have to be an arc on its own too. and, again, there is no time for that. rly cheering for a reunion and a talk, maybe even a mentorship of sorts, but considering hunter already has a place he feels fully comfortable in and ppl who consider him family right now, i feel like him ending in a completely new place after all that wouldn't be his #1 preferred option.

same with eda/the clawthornes tbh; it had sooo much potential and he is technically related to them AND is going to find that out soon, so some kinda interaction/development HAS to happen, and he did say he wants to learn how to carve palismen, so a mentorship may also happen... but as for actual adoption mm i don't think anything can come close to how safe and happy and Good he's felt for those months while under camila's care. again, in the future things COULD develop in such way, but considering we have two episodes until we get a conclusion... mmyeah

so................ yeah.

i just have so so so many thoughts abt hunter finding a family and getting to be a teenager and feeling loved and feeling like he has his own place in the world and being safe and allowed to explore his interests and to be himself........ hunter nocedaaaaa oughhghhh 🤲❤️

#not to mention zeno (hunter's va) choosing 'hunter noceda' as his twitter display name after thanks to them premiered 😭😭 so iconic of him #nicole answers #my toh talk #hunter toh #the owl house #toh analysis #*passes away* #hunter noceda #i'm biting and jumping on walls #made this thread on twitter and ran here when i remembered i have this ask sitting in my inbox #Anonymous

[avatar-anna]

Building a Home

part two to failure

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

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"Can I get you anything?"

"No. No, I'm okay, thanks."

"Oh. Well, there's a, uh, there's a jacuzzi outside if you want to go in now. Or later, obviously. But it might be fun to—to relax or something."

"I think I just want to lie down for a bit."

"Right. Of course. I might go to the store, then. Buy a couple things for the week."

"Okay."

Harry didn't know what to say. He'd never been at a loss for words around Y/n. For so many years, they'd been best friends as well as parents and husband and wife. They told each other everything, and now they could barely have a conversation.

As a way to rekindle things, Harry's mother offered to watch the kids while he and Y/n went on a little trip. Harry was unsure at first, not wanting to be away from his kids after returning home, but he was also willing to do anything if it meant that they could break past speaking more than a few words to each other, so he settled for a cabin that was close enough to drive home in case of emergency.

Y/n had been civil to Harry since he came home. She smiled when he played with Simone and Collette and sat next to him at the dinner table, but once everyone was settled for bed, a wall went up around her, and while they still got in the same bed at the end of the night, the distance between them was palpable. Harry understood why, and he respected Y/n enough to grant her her space, but he missed her so much his chest ached. He just wanted to hold her hand, to see that smile directed at him.

The drive up to the cabin was painfully quiet, but he just kept reminding himself that Y/n came. That had to mean she wanted this to work.

He held onto that tiny scrap of hope as he perused the aisles of the general store, as he checked out, and as he returned to the cabin and made dinner for the two of them.

Y/n eventually came out of the bedroom and quietly began helping Harry with dinner, not a word leaving her lips. He desperately wanted to say something to try and break the ice, but nothing came to mind.

After dinner, Harry and Y/n got ready for bed in silence. They stood beside each other as they brushed their teeth, Harry glancing to his left every couple seconds, hoping this stalemate would be broken somehow. But as they got into bed once again without a single word shared, he wondered if they should've just stayed home.

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"I, uh, I spoke to the owner of the cabin this morning," Harry said.

Y/n looked over at him from where she was reading on the couch. "Oh? Why?"

Harry scratched the stubble on his cheeks. "I asked if we'd have to pay full price if we decided to leave early. He said yes, but that's fine."

Frowning, Y/n set her book down and said, "Why would we leave early?"

"Because we've been here for nearly three days and we've hardly spoken to each other, Y/n. We could easily do that at home."

"So that's it? You're just going to give up after a few days of the cold shoulder?"

"Y/n, I am willing to do anything to make things right, to prove to you that I want to be a part of this family, but you won't let me!" he said. "And I know that you're angry and you're hurt, and you have every right to be, I know that, but I can't begin to right my wrongs if you don't talk to me."

He walked to where she was sitting on the couch and rested his hands over hers. Y/n was crying, but she wouldn't look at him.

"You left us," she said. "When you were faced with the truth, you left. Instead of staying and being what we needed, what I needed, you left us! You—You left me.” Her voice broke on the last word, like despite all they went through, she never expected him to let her down like that. “And I—I have hated you for it ever since you left.”

Harry bowed his head. He knew deep down that Y/n resented him, but to hear it was an entirely different thing. "You told me to go."

"I wanted you to fight for this family! For me! But you took the easy way out, and now I don't know how to talk to you. I don't know how to exist around you!"

She stood up from the couch and walked toward the stairs that led to their bedroom. "So no, Harry, I'm not talking to you, because I'm scared I'll say anything that'll ruin things for good."

Harry let her go, sitting down on the floor with his back against the couch. His own tears fell freely now that she was gone. Any hope he had crumbled into dust.

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Alone in their room, Y/n let herself cry.

Harry was trying, he really was, but he just didn't get it. After touring for nearly an entire year, he just left again. She knew she told him they should take a break, but she'd hoped he would stay and try to mend things. If not for her sake, then for the four children they had together. But instead he just...gave up.

Anne came around a lot, and had become the go-between for Y/n and Harry. She was the one who set up video chats for Simone, Collette, and the twins, she told Harry about how things were back home, and she was the one Y/n confided in when she felt overwhelmed by anger and sadness.

And boy was Y/n angry. It was easier to be angry than to sit around and cry, which she had no time for as it was. Now she was having a hard time letting go of her anger. Harry was home now, and he was putting in every stitch of effort with the girls and Julian. He got the girls ready for school, he changed every diaper, he made dinner, he cleaned up around the house. He was exactly the man Y/n had been hoping for months ago. Why couldn't he have been that man before?

In the cabin's bedroom, Y/n rummaged through Harry's things for the sweater she knew he brought just for her. It had been one of her favorites to wear around the house, before he left and while he was gone, but she would never admit that to him. It was at the bottom of his bag, though when Y/n plucked it out, she saw something left there. A scrap of paper.

Without really thinking about it, Y/n took it.

It was a folded piece of paper, worn, like Harry took it everywhere. She hesitated for a moment, then unfolded it, curious to know what was written on the inside.

It was song lyrics, a song Y/n had never heard before. Her eyes scanned over it briefly, recognizing Harry's handwriting and all the little scribbles where he took a misstep while writing the song and arrangements for music were scribbled on the sides. She looked at everything but the lyrics themselves, scared to know what Harry had written while he was gone. But curiosity finally won out, and Y/n glanced at the words Harry had been carrying with him for months.

"I'm in my bed, and you're not here. And there's no one to blame but the drink in my wandering hand. Forget what I said, it's not what I meant. And I can't take it back I can't unpack the baggage you left."

Y/n mulled over each word carefully, trying to enter Harry's headspace as he wrote this song. She wondered how long they had been separated before he wrote this. Was it when he had just left or had weeks or months gone by? She wasn't sure, but by just the first few lines she could almost physically feel this pain.

She kept reading. Over and over again she read each word until she had them memorized, until they were carved into her heart. Of course Y/n knew that the separation wouldn't have been easy for Harry. Despite his schedule, she knew he adored each and every one of his kids; she knew he loved her. But to see with her own eyes how absolutely wrecked he was by his own failings hurt. This was never meant to be how their lives turned out. They were always supposed to lean on each other and survive as a family because they loved each other and wanted this life, but somewhere along the way, that got lost.

And Y/n could feel the regret of losing sight of what mattered most in the song. She could tell how much he blamed himself for everything that happened.

"And I get the feeling that you'll never need me again."

They hadn't spoken much since he came home. Not of how they felt while they were apart, nor of how they planned to move forward. But Anne had once mentioned that Harry felt as though Y/n and the family would be better off without him. Y/n was still so angry at him for leaving that she didn't think much of it. But now, sitting alone in a room with Harry in the same house but still as far away from her as he'd ever been, she understood. He was wrong, of course, Y/n would always need him, would always want him around, but she understood that one's biggest fears could cloud judgment.

Harry had messed up a lot, but he'd also been right downstairs. If Y/n was done, there was no use moving around each other awkwardly day after day. She owed it to herself and to Harry to make a decision, even if it did hurt them.

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Y/n found Harry sleeping on the couch, his legs hanging over one of the arms. He was still in his day clothes, clearly not wanting to enter the bedroom if she was there. Her heart sunk at the sight of tear tracks on his cheeks, knowing she was the one that caused them.

She wanted to make room for herself next to him, curl up into his chest and have a good night's sleep for the first time since he'd left months ago. She wanted to kiss him, run her hands through his hair, hold him close, but something inside of her held her back.

Their relationship was a mess that Y/n didn't know how to clean up. She didn't know where to start, didn't know if she could believe him when he said that things could be different. But she reminded herself that she came with him on this trip because she owed it to herself to try. Despite everything, Y/n loved him, would forgive him the second he got down on his knees and begged, which was why she'd been putting so much distance between him and herself.

But it had gone on long enough. They needed to talk this through. They needed to get everything out and see where they landed by the end of it.

Cautiously, Y/n went over to Harry and gently nudged his shoulder. He woke up in an instant, startled by her sudden appearance. "What is it? What's wrong?" he said, voice slightly slurred from sleeping.

"Nothing. I just...I just don't want you to think that I hate you," she said, unable to meet his gaze. She'd been avoiding holding eye contact for weeks, not strong enough to see everything he felt in them.

Harry sat up and offered her a spot on the couch, and Y/n took up a place on the opposite end. Outside of sleeping in the same bed, it was the closest they had been to each other in months outside of a hug when he first came home.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did," he said quietly.

She hated that he believed it, hated that she'd let him believe it. "I was furious, and I'm still a little angry, but I don't think I could ever truly hate you, Harry."

"I'm sorry," he said. Y/n could tell that he wanted to come closer, but he stayed exactly where he was, nervously fiddling with the rings on his fingers. She still couldn't meet his gaze, so she focused on his hands, finding it easier to look there while they had this conversation. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. If I could go back and change...everything I would. You were right to be angry with how I've handled my career on my own, and you have every right to be short with me. There's no excuse for how things played out, or how I dealt with you confronting me about it. I got scared and insecure and I let myself believe you deserved someone better than me, when all you needed was for me to be a partner. That's all you've ever asked of me, and you were right to say that I'd failed. And...And I'm sorry."

Would she have forgiven him all those months ago if Harry had said that at the time? Y/n wasn't sure. But the Harry sitting across from her seemed to truly understand where she was coming from, and he was owning up to his mistakes. If she didn't extend an olive branch now, there would be no coming back from that.

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For the first time in months, Y/n met Harry's gaze. Her eyes looked blank, though Harry knew it was only because she was heavily guarded. He apologized and would continue to apologize for the rest of their lives, but she had to let him back into it first. And he honestly wasn't sure if she would.

With a blink, Y/n surprised him by saying, "I found this."

She reached across the space between them on the couch to hand him a folded-up piece of paper. He didn't have to open it to know what it was.

Harry wrote the song at one of his lowest points during their separation. A month had gone by, and he still hadn't heard from Y/n. He FaceTimed with Simone, Collette, and the twins almost every day, but Y/n didn't send him so much as an email. After a month, Harry realized that this separation was truly indefinite, and that there was a real possibility things wouldn't be fixed by the end of it. For the first four weeks, Harry hoped that he could come home and work things out, but when a month had passed, reality kicked in.

He'd written the song at a time when he'd felt truly hopeless, when every mistake he'd ever made as a father and a husband gnawed at him. He was facing the reality that he might lose the family he loved more than words could describe, and the thought alone destroyed him.

Seeing the paper now brought back those memories, and now he had a hard time meeting Y/n's eyes. "I must've left it in my bag after I came home."

"I read it," Y/n said. "I hope you don't mind."

Harry figured as much, seeing as she was talking to him at all. The thought of her reading his song made his stomach twist, but at least she was talking to him. "No i—it's fine.”

"It's really good," she said, worrying the paper between her fingers. "I—I know the separation was hard on you, and I haven't made it any easier. I'm—"

"Please don't apologize," he said, reaching over to touch her hand. "None of this is your fault."

"But I—I never wanted you to feel this way. I never—Harry, how did we get here?"

Harry felt like his heart was breaking all over again. He in no way wanted Y/n to take responsibility for everything that went wrong between them. He never in his wildest dreams thought that they would've ended up like this. He loved Y/n with everything he had. He loved his family. All he wanted was to make things right, to be the father and husband they deserved and could be proud of.

"Come here."

For the first time in months, Y/n collapsed into Harry's arms. Breathing the biggest sigh of relief, he held her tight. He wasn't sure how many times they found themselves in this position, so often he'd taken it for granted. Y/n was crying, Harry was crying, but he'd never felt more at peace. He felt like he'd finally come home, even though he'd already been back for a couple weeks. Holding Y/n felt like coming home.

"I don't want to be away from you anymore, Harry. I hate it," she cried. "We're a team, H."

They'd always been a team. No matter what happened, it would be them against the world. Somewhere along the way, Harry seemed to lose sight of that.

"I know. I'm sorry. We can be a team again, I promise."

He didn't need Y/n to voice her wariness for him to know she didn't quite believe him. He knew he would have to win back her trust, but he was committed. Harry didn't care how long it took, his family was the only thing that mattered to him.

"No more music, no more touring. None of it means a fraction of what you and those four angels at home mean to me," he said, tilting her chin up so she could look at him. "I swear, Y/n, I won't step onstage again."

Y/n took Harry by surprise and kissed his cheek. "I just want there to be a balance, Harry. That's all I've ever wanted. I don't need you to give up your career, I just need reassurance that we're always going to come first."

"Done."

Harry knew it would take a lot more than just saying things to make Y/n believe them, but it was enough for now, enough to make it through these uncharted waters.

Y/n tipped her nose against Harry's, then again. His stomach swelled with anticipation as he nudged her back, exhaling some when she finally rested her lips on his.

It was barely a kiss, but to Harry, it was everything. He knew how much Y/n was going out on a limb by letting him in, by giving him a second chance, and he didn't take that lightly. She was the first girl he'd ever loved, and he'd be damned if she wasn't the last.

Y/n eventually fell asleep against his chest, her hands latched tightly onto his t-shirt as her deev breaths kept time with his. Harry stayed up, his hand running through her hair gently. Their legs were tangled together, and Y/n's cheek was squished against him in a way that made her lips puff out adorably. He could've spent the rest of the week just like this, not moving a single muscle, but he had a feeling they'd be going home early after all.

Nothing was near fixed. They had so much to figure out, Harry wasn't quite sure where to start. But he was holding the love of his life in his arms. Harry's life was starting to get back on track, and he felt a little kernel of hope blossom inside him as his eyes grew heavy. As he kissed the top of Y/n's head, he couldn't help but think that they might be alright.

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young parent!harry styles #young mom! reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles angst

[sant-riley]

AAAAAAA IDEAAAAAAAAAH

Hi! I'm new here! I've come to bombard you with the idea of a parent of the reader's(most likely dad) showing up to the base out of nowhere.

Secret admirer,

-🐍

Omg I have my first ever emoji anon, Hi!! And yes absolutely I love this. I'm gonna try and be neutral with the parent in question so it's open to anyone :)

P.S idk how I used to format this shit I'm not checking Lmfao

[Task force 141 reacting to your parent/s showing up out of nowhere to visit]

If we're taking into account that this Simon and the og Simon have the same backstory,, its safe to say he doesn't have fond memories of his dad, though he has some for his mother.

Depending on your relationship between you and your parent/s, Ghost is either gonna point blank tell them they're not welcomed here. While Price IS above him, he isn't afraid to pull the intimidation and rank card to get them to get the hell out of there. Ghost was abused by his dad, God fucking forbid you were EVER treated poorly and he finds out.

However, even if your parent is kind, he still is uncomfortable by them being there. It makes his chest feel heavy watching you interact and it just brings up bitter memories he much rather not think of, so he won't linger around and instead go to the gun range and wait it out. He cares for you, and unfortunately, it won't ever really transfer over to your parents. Best he'd do is a stern nod and be on his way.

Soap, however, is very happy to introduce themselves and your parent swoons over his accent and likes him immediately, even if they're not the greatest of parents, Soap will make it a point to put his best foot forward and ask them if they'd want a tour.

If your mom is present she immediately likes him and isn't afraid to give you a look with an eyebrow raise saying "why aren't you dating him?". Don't get me wrong, though. He's not afraid to make smart comments and then joke it off. He's protective but not in your face kinda way.

He's definitely the type to sigh with relief when they're gone, complaining about small things he disliked about them to you openly (a lil bit of a hater but his mom raised him to not be rude to his elders okay.)

Doesn't matter who your parents are, Price intimidates them. He's the captain, and from what you've told them, he is extremely good at his job and he's a no nonsense leader, but you also mention that he's kind and he'd never leave one of his own behind.

Price talks EXTREMELY highly of you, he isn't afraid to clasp a hand on your shoulder and smile that stupid smile of his while he looks down at you in admiration.

It'd be most likely that he himself would have invited your parents without your know how, he has the ties and the authority but trust and believe if you expressed any discomfort with it, he'd rectify it and send them on their way.

Your parents may not like how particularly you close you are with such an older man but it's obvious he cares so much for you and your safety, so they take peace in that.

Gaz is probably the most easy going out of the 4, casually making conversation and if your parents are the type to play match maker, he's their #1 choice I'm not sorry, it's the truth.

Gaz sings your praises, mentioning time and time again that you've been such a good help on base and a good comrade and friend and he will thank your parents for raising you. (Imagine him taking off his hat and holding it to his chest or tipping it what if I swooned)

You KNOW he's invited to family dinners if he's ever in the area, or if he has no plans for the holidays, he's welcome at the family home. (You tell him later that he doesn't need to feel pressured but he just ruffles your hair and asks what kind of alcohol your family prefers)

#i did this headcanon style im so rusty furjekk #i did like this idea tho!! I hope its #kinda decent #ghost <3 #soap <3 #price <3 #gaz <3 #call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #call of duty headcanons #kayla writes <3

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I changed my name because people are overusing the nickname privilege?

2 years ago, I (29, transmasculine) changed my name. For the sake of this ask, since I don't want to use my real name, a decent equivalent is James, so I'll be using that instead.

I originally told my mom and my roommate/close friend (Alex, 29, agender) I was okay with the nickname Jamie, but I'd prefer to mostly be called James, especially when it comes to people I don't know well.

I tried to set this boundary because the nickname feels a little feminine, even if it's technically gender neutral. I don't pass very often, so it makes me uncomfortable to think people who don't know me might misunderstand, and think I am simply a woman with a gender neutral nickname. So I envisioned Jamie being reserved for the people closest to me because of that.

Both my mom and Alex opted to call me Jamie immediately. They introduced me to friends, family members, and even strangers as Jamie, put my name in their phone as Jamie. My mom sends me packages addressed to "Jamie [lastname]". Just the other day, Alex's grandma sent us chocolates in the mail and the note inside said "Merry Christmas Alex and Jamie!" and I am not close to her by any means, I am positive Alex must have told her that's my name. Just tons and tons of little things like that.

It took me a while to catch on - at first I thought people simply decided to call me Jamie on their own, or heard Alex or my mom talk to me and figured it was okay. I'm autistic, so it takes a while to figure out the best way to approach a problem involving social skills. I didn't want to immediately jump in and say "hey, don't call me that, you don't know me well enough," because I think that's a bit callous. And I thought I was dealing with just a few acquaintances - not literally everyone Alex or my mom talks to.

I confronted both of them about a year ago, when I finally put it together. They said they're not intentionally disregarding my feelings, but "Jamie suits you so much more" so they forget and it just slips out.

(I could be wrong, but I think this is probably because Jamie can be a girl's name and I still look like a girl. So, yeah, of course they'd feel that way.)

I begged them to stop and call me James if they're talking to people about me. My mom promptly "forgot" again. Alex has gotten better about it, but still slips up. Even if they were perfect, I feel like the damage is done after 2 years of this.

To further complicate things, Alex actively avoids using pronouns to refer to people in speech. They will say things like "I've been told that the flight was canceled" instead of "he said he canceled the flight". This is due to anxiety because they're not great at remembering pronouns & doesn't want to accidentally misgender anyone. So there is a lot of general confusion about my pronouns amongst the groups that are connected to Alex. (I don't really use social media, so informing people of my pronouns is more complicated than just putting them in my bio and calling it a day. I've asked Alex to please just say he/him, but they're so resistant and weird about it because of their irrational fears, which...honestly just feels transphobic now).

Now I've started to ask them to drop the nickname entirely, even privately. Call me James and nothing else forever. Jamie has been thoroughly ruined for me, I just feel nauseous when I see or hear it. But at this point, since I lost my job & most of my social network is through Alex, everyone calls me Jamie, and it's exhausting to correct them over and over when it's such a small, seemingly pedantic thing. I don't mind a little confrontation or advocating for myself, but this...this is beyond what I can handle without getting severely stressed out.

So I've been considering changing my name to something else that doesn't have such a common gender neutral/feminine nickname. Just start over. Reset.

But this would be the third time I've changed my name. The first time was like 6 years ago, and it only lasted a few months before I decided it didn't fit, and went back to using my deadname while I figured myself out. My family remembers this well, and 2 years ago when I told them I go by James now, expressed their frustration because I "keep changing things and it's confusing". I'm worried that if I change my name again, nobody will bother to take it seriously, they'll just assume I'll change it again, so why bother using the correct name at all.

Plus I do see how it could be considered petty or immature. It took years to settle on the name I have now. I put a ton of thought into it. I used to love it. I might be TA for letting something as unimportant as an overused nickname sway me to the point where I feel like I need to throw the whole name away.

I mean, I understand why younger trans people might do that, since they have less of their life established and are figuring out who they are, but I'm nearly 30, so I feel like I am getting too old for this. It's just tiring.

Idk, I probably won't make any decisions based on the results of this, but the feedback would be helpful to consider. WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[ckret2]

Chapter 32 of human Bill is convinced he's the best prisoner ever and does not deserve this abuse from the Pines:

Bill gets his fingernails painted! 💅🌈✨ Look at his fingernails, I drew this week's picture just to show them off. They're fun.

Bill also gets bound to a magic poppet that can control his every move.

It's hilarious for Dipper and Mabel, but not for Bill.

The early morning still was broken by Stan's wails of despair.

At some point during the night, the egg-and-toilet-papering kids had come back to Stan's car.

And they'd brought rocks.

####

Bill woke up with a sheet tossed over him and a cupcake sitting on the window seat. The cupcake was pink with green frosting and decorated like a happy jack-o'-melon. It was sitting on top of a note:

"Sorry I didn't mention I had plans tonight! Robbie's mom made cupcakes for everyone so I grabbed you one. The music video's gonna be AMAZING! I'll show you when Robbie posts it!" Mabel had signed with a shooting star.

Bill decided he hadn't been mad at Mabel last night at all.

He battled gravity to heave himself vertical, trudged downstairs to the bathroom, stuck his face under the faucet until his mouth tasted less like sour sandpaper, agonizingly dragged himself back upstairs to his makeshift bed, and collapsed under the sheet to wait until his head stopped hammering.

####

Sprawled on the living room floor, Mabel said, "What should I draw?"

"Draw me." Bill was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, watching the news and nursing a glass of Mabel juice. In an effort to counteract the lingering queasiness from overdosing on sugar and chocolate, he'd spiked the juice with two ground-up Elderly 60+ Vitaman™ brand Man Vitamins (khaki flavor) stolen from a bottle that Ford had bought for Stan and that Stan forgot to take.

"Okay!" Mabel turned around and squinted up at Bill. "Strike a pose!"

"Not like this!" Bill shoved a hand in Mabel's face to force her to stop looking. "Draw me how I really look."

"Bill, that's illegal. Remember?" Mabel pointed at the TV. Bodacious T was reporting on a child who'd dressed up for Summerween as "that weird out-of-towner who bothered us last year, you know the one," and who, under the Never Mind All That Act, had been fined fifty pieces of candy. The child's mugshot showed his crying face, but blurred out his yellow costume.

"He'd be the coolest kid in town," Bill said, "if he wasn't such a crybaby in front of the cops. Draw me anyway."

"I don't wanna get arrested!"

"Do you see any cops?" Bill grinned. "Just don't sign your name, nobody will know it was you."

Mabel considered that. "I can sign it someone else's name." She pulled out a few crayons.

"That's what I'm talking about! Do anything you want forever and frame the innocent!"

"What do you want me to draw you doing?"

"The coolest thing you can think of."

Mabel considered that, and got to work.

The news was boring now. They were talking about the weather, and it wasn't even interesting weather. "So hey, you were gonna tell me about filming last night?"

"Oh yeah!" Mabel said. "Did I mention the part where the dead rose from their graves?"

Bill muted the TV. "And I missed it?"

Robbie had decided the cemetery at his place would be more atmospheric than the trick-or-treater-filled streets (and less likely to have their shots ruined by passersby that didn't appreciate the depth of Robbie's lyrics). It went great, until the vibrations of angsty rock-and-roll stirred the slumbering corpses and they clawed their way from their graves. It turned out Gravity Falls had been having off-and-on invasions of the undead for the past year, ever since somebody decided to reanimate every corpse in town for fun, Bill.

"You can't prove it was me, I'm not the only one who knows how to raise the dead!" Bill laughed. "Hey—you're not drawing this body, are you? You said you wouldn't."

"I'm not, I promise!"

"Then why do you keep staring at me?"

"Um."

"Let me see!"

"No! Don't ruin the surprise!" Mabel picked up a glitter pen with feathers glued to the end and waved them in Bill's face. "And no cheating with your eye-bleeding psychic magic!"

Bill smacked the pen away. "Fine! So what did you do with the zombies? Feed one of the teens to them?"

"No! I chewed like four packs of gum me and Dipper got from the weird homeless dentist and made a fake baby brain. We used it as bait to lead them into an open grave," Mabel said. "And then we realized we could use the brain to train them to do tricks! So now we have dancing zombies in the music video. They actually learned the choreography pretty easily."

"Makes sense," Bill said. "I did fill the space where their souls should be with an insatiable hunger to party."

Mabel grinned. "I thought you said they weren't your fault."

"If they're good at dancing, I'm taking credit!"

"They were pretty good—especially considering how many limbs they were missing," Mabel said. "I'll show you when Robbie's finished editing the video."

"And I'll get to see you playing a creepy ghost kid, right?"

"Yeah! We were the greatest ghosts ever! Check it out, we were like—" Mabel fixed Bill with a dead-eyed slack-jawed stare and whisper-sang, "'We're the things that you have lost. Childhood joy, dead as a ghost.'"

"Chills."

"Dipper tried so hard to get in character as a ghost that he completely zoned out for a minute! When we shook him out of it, he said he felt like he had an out-of-body experience!"

####

At his computer, Robbie clicked play on a clip of the twins standing side-by-side in front of the cemetery gate. As they sang the chorus, Dipper's face went still; and then a spectral gray form rose out of his head, still singing in sync with Mabel.

"Whoa," Robbie said. "Sick. I'm keeping that in."

####

"So, it turns out my bro is an expert method actor," Mabel boasted.

Bill thought back to Dipper drifting up and down the stairs in the middle of the night. "Yep. Sounds like he's got quite a talent."

Mabel set down her crayons and held out a paper. "Okay—what do you think?"

Bill accepted the drawing. "Am I riding on the back of a rocket ship?"

"Like a bucking bronco! See the rocket flames doing a loop?"

"Sure do. Why am I holding a fish bowl?"

"It's like a cowboy waving his hat, but, you're in space. So that's your astronaut helmet."

"It's beautiful," Bill said intensely. "It's the best thing I've ever seen."

"Aw, really? Thanks!"

"When I take over the universe, I'm rearranging the constellations to look like this."

"Don't do that, though."

"Fine, but I'm hanging it up in my throne room." Bill set down his empty glass so he could hold the picture with both hands, beaming at it as proudly as though he'd made it himself. Big change from his lukewarm reception of her house drawing yesterday. She should draw Bill more often. Being a good artist meant understanding what your audience wanted.

Unfortunately, now that she'd finished her drawing, she didn't have anything to distract her from staring at Bill. And she'd taken about as much of seeing him as she could stand. "Bill. I say this with non-judgmental love. But you look sooo terrible."

"Yeah, I know. I think I'm shaped about as nicely as a human could ask for," he pantomimed drawing a triangle in front of his torso, "but let's be real, there's only so much you can do when you're working with a human bone structure. And there's way too much neck—"

"No! Bill, your body is beautiful just the way it is, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I meant your hair looks awful."

Bill had taken a shower yesterday morning, emerged with his hair all wet and tangled, and done absolutely nothing to detangle it. And then, with it still half damp and totally disheveled, he'd shoved it under a cheap acrylic wig for the rest of the night. And then he'd fallen asleep on the floor still wearing the wig.

And now, with the wig removed, his hair looked like a bird had plucked out half a scarecrow's straw brains and made a nest out of it.

"It sure does," Bill said, with the slightly forlorn air of someone complaining about a war in a far-off country over which one had no power.

"So brush it!"

"No. Never. You can't make me."

"Why not? I thought you wanted to keep your hair all triangly!"

"Not enough to touch it. Either it'll figure out how to straighten out on its own or it won't, I'm not messing with it. I've got enough going on in my life today." By which he meant he had the last lingering traces of a hangover, which was a valid excuse to get out of all social, moral, and aesthetic obligations.

Mabel groaned in frustration. "I can't take looking at it anymore! If you won't brush it, can I?"

Bill gave her a skeptical look; but then he flung his hands out dismissively. "Sure, why not? If it bothers you so much. Have at it."

"I'll be right back!"

She got her brush from upstairs and a spray bottle from the kitchen, and directed Bill to sit on the floor so she could get on the couch behind him. After making such a fuss about brushing his hair, Bill was surprisingly well-behaved with somebody else brushing it for him. He didn't even complain when Mabel accidentally yanked on some nasty snarls a little harder than she meant to.

"I feel like a corpse getting prettied up for my funeral," Bill said. "Grooming each other is how humans bond, isn't it? This is one of your little social rituals? If all you wanted was to make sure we're still friends after you ditched me last night, you could have just asked."

Mabel shoved her foot between Bill's shoulder blades. Wise guy. She joked, "Yeah! We're bonding now! After this we're gonna paint each other's fingernails and talk about what kind of boys we like."

"I want rainbow spiral fingernails."

Mabel really should be used to this—but she still kept getting surprised that Bill was interested in the stuff she liked. And not even in a patronizing sure-I'll-play-along way. He'd turned to look at her. There was a gleam in his eyes. He really wanted rainbow spiral fingernails.

And now she wanted rainbow spiral fingernails, too. "Fine! But look forward until I finish your hair." One way or another, Mabel vowed, she would reform Bill into a proper good guy—even if she had to drag him there kicking and screaming. Fun dress-up partners were hard to find, and she couldn't afford to lose Bill.

####

Soos wandered to the living room to find somewhere to hang up his and Melody's "Best Couple Cosplay" award, but stopped in the doorway.

Bill, Mabel, and Waddles were sitting on the floor, watching some kind of cartoon psychedelic fairy princess lecture a spider on the importance of colors, with a bowl of popcorn between them. Bill and Mabel both had bright multicolor fingernails and were eating the popcorn with chopsticks to avoid touching their nails. There was more popcorn on the floor than in the bowl. Waddles had taken no such cares to avoid dragging his freshly painted hooves through the carpet. 

"Truth or dare," Bill said.

"Dare!"

"Dare you to assassinate the..." Bill trailed off. "I can't have the mayor assassinated, he runs Rainbow Club. And the sheriff and deputy invited me... There aren't a lot of public officials in this dumb town, are there?"

"I'm not killing anybody, Bill. Truth."

"Fine, coward. What's your favorite toxic fume fragrance?"

"That's easy! Gasoline!"

"Hey, mine too! At least on this planet. It smells like—you know that smell that heralds the coming of rain? Gasoline is the smell that heralds a really fun time."

"Yeah! Like going on a road trip!"

Bill paused. "Right! I was... I was definitely thinking about road trips. That's exactly what I meant."

Mabel added, "And it looks so cool when there's a little bit spilled in a parking spot—"

"The rainbow puddles! Yes! Big fan of the rainbow puddles—"

"I love parking lot rainbow puddles! It's like surprise happiness in the most boring place on the planet!"

Soos mumbled, "Girl talk," decided to hang his award up later, and left.

####

Dipper heard the bedroom door open and Mabel call, "Hey Dipper!"

"Hey." He didn't look up from his journal, where he was documenting last night's zombie adventures. "Oh, hey, bad news—Wendy said she got a text from Robbie, it sounds like all the footage from the cemetery last night is ruined?"

"Aww! What? But we worked so hard to train those zombies!"

"Yeah, it's just static. But everything we shot outside the gates is fine. I wonder if it's something supernatural that interferes with electronics?"

"Something supernatural? In the cemetery? Full of zombies? What are the odds of that!" Mabel laughed. "But heyyy, I've got some good news!"

"What?"

Mabel stuck a hairbrush full of gold hair between Dipper's face and his journal. "I got a replacement for the Bill hair sample we gave Pacifica!" She grinned and whispered, "Wanna make a poppet?"

####

It would have been really cool if the first full moon of summer vacation had come on Summerween. But the calendar gods were unkind that year, and instead, it came the next day, on June 23.

Which worked out, in the end, since it meant they didn't have any scheduling conflicts on the one night they could make a poppet.

They had the ritual space set up in their bedroom—a chalk star drawn on the floor with a black candle at each point—and the doll representing Bill���which Mabel had upgraded with button eyes and a miniature version of his favorite knit hoodie. They collected all the shed blonde strands off Mabel's hairbrush, wrapped them around the doll's neck, and tied them on. They set the doll in the center of the star; Bartholomew talked them through the ritual; the flames on the candles leaped a foot in the air, turned a pale blue, and then went out; and the binding ritual was complete. The doll was now connected to Bill Cipher.

"Weird," Bartholomew said. "Usually the flames turn black. I've never seen them turn blue before."

Dipper said, "That's not a problem, is it?"

"No, no. I've just never used the binding ritual on an alien before! I guess it works a little different!"

Dipper picked up the doll and eyed it skeptically. "Mabel, I know we said we're saving this for emergencies only, but—maybe we should test it out just to make sure it actually works?"

"I guess we should," Mabel said, grimacing. "Just—don't do anything that'd hurt him. Okay?"

Yeah, Dipper should've expected that. Whether he liked it or not, Mabel didn't just see Bill as her weird experiment in criminal rehabilitation—she saw him as her friend. He sighed. "Okay. But is it fine if we do something that would embarrass him?"

Mabel shrugged. "I don't see why not!"

####

As they crept from their room, Mabel whispered, "What if we stick him in a box and shake it up? And then tell him there was an earthquake!"

"I thought you were the one who didn't want to hurt him."

"Oh right."

Bill wasn't on his cushions under the window, so they crept downstairs. Halfway down, Dipper stopped, putting a hand on Mabel's arm. Bill was sitting at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, staring out the window.

"This is perfect," he whispered. "He's completely vulnerable. He's got his back to us, he's looking at the moonlight—even if he turns around, he won't see us because his eyes will have to readjust to the dark."

"I don't know if his eyes need to adjust," Mabel said. "Have you ever noticed he never turns the lights on when he goes into a room?"

Dipper considered that. He hadn't noticed—but now that Mabel mentioned it, Bill did have a tendency to lurk in the dark. "Well—okay, but he's still not looking at us. Let's see how this works..." He studied the doll; then turned it around and gently brushed a finger through its yarn hair.

For a moment, nothing happened; and then Bill swatted at the back of his head and looked around, as if he was trying to find what had touched him.

"I think it's working," Dipper hissed.

"Are you sure? What if there's actually a fly in the kitchen?"

Could be. "Let me see if it can control him."

"Careful—"

Dipper grabbed one of the doll's arms and tentatively lifted it.

Bill's arm shot up. He stared at it in bafflement. "Wh...?"

Mabel bit her lip. Dipper waved the doll's arm.

Bill's arm waved. After a pause, he tentatively asked, "Hello?" As if he thought maybe his arm was waving at someone and he should play along with it.

Mabel and Dipper clapped their hands over their mouths, fighting to keep their giggles quiet. Mabel elbowed Dipper, "Hey Dipper Dipper Dipper, get him to stand up, let me control his legs, I have the best idea—"

Bill knocked over his chair and had to flail his arms for balance as he abruptly jerked to his feet. He looked around, eyes wide and wild, an edge of panic to his voice as he hollered, "WHAT'S GOING ON!"

Dipper held the doll out to Mabel. "Okay hurry!" Mabel took it by the legs—

—and Bill started doing the cancan. He shrieked. "WHAT?!"

Dipper shoved his shirt over his mouth to muffle his hysterics. Mabel was letting little wheezy squeaks out through her nose. Bill's voice was almost an octave higher as he screamed, "WHEN I FIND OUT WHO'S BEHIND THIS, I'M GONNA SHRED YOU—" and they both got so close to bursting laughing out loud that they had to pause to punch each other's shoulders for self control.

Still holding one of the doll's legs up, Mabel hissed, "Dipper do you remember the bottle dance. Where they crouch down with bottles on their heads. Can we—can we get a tiny bottle for the doll—"

Bill was failing both arms to avoid falling with one foot held in the air. He grabbed the counter for balance. And then, with a grunt of effort, he wrenched his foot down and stomped it to the ground.

The doll's leg yanked out of Mabel's hand.

Dipper and Mabel fell silent, staring at the doll. They looked at each other. Mabel whispered, "It shouldn't be able to do that, right?"

They looked at Bill.

Bill's face was burning red, and he was so far past fury that his expression was perfectly blank. His eyes were huge, and round, and pointed straight at them.

They bolted up the stairs.

Bill charged after them.

They screamed in terror. They weren't loud enough to drown out Bill: "WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU BRATS—"

Mabel grabbed Dipper's arm. "Dipper, do something!"

"Uhh—!" He tossed the doll in the air and caught it.

They heard an alarmed yelp as Bill was launched in the air and then a crash as he landed on the stairs again.

They scrambled into their room and slammed the door. "Safe!" Mabel said.

"Yeah," Dipper said, panting for breath. "Can't get us here."

The doll's head twisted 180 degrees to stare up at them.

They yelped. Dipper tossed the doll to Mabel. Mabel held it out at arm's length, threw it in her nightstand's drawer, and slammed it. It tried to open again and she leaned against it with her full body weight. "Dipper, the duct tape! In my craft supplies!"

"Which craft supplies?!"

The tiny knocking inside the drawer was echoed by the pounding at the door, accompanied by a string of creative death threats: "—and when I'm finished the coroner won't know which corpse was which! I'll make a belt out of your spinal columns—!"

"We didn't do anything," Mabel shouted, "it wasn't our fault!" She took the duct tape from Dipper and frantically wrapped it around the night stand. Dipper added, "It was someone else! And we'll never do it again—"

Sleepy and muffled, Soos's voice drifted through the door, "Dudes? What's all the hubbub?"

Dipper and Mabel gasped, "Soos!" "Save us!"

His voice the perfect tone of righteous indignation, Bill declared, "I'm being assaulted, that's what!"

Stan's voice joined in from downstairs: "BILL! If you don't leave those kids alone I'll cave your nose in!"

"THEY'RE THE AGGRESSORS," Bill screamed, half hysterical. "They are! I'm the victim here! I'm being victimized!"

Stan shouted, "Kids, good work! Bill, you can go to—" He grumbled as he self-censored, "—sleep! Shut up and go to sleep!"

"You can go jump in the bottomless pit, Stanley Pines! I'll tear you all apart with my teeth if I have to! NOBODY in this stupid junk heap of a shack is getting any sleep until I get my—"

From just outside the attic door, Stan roared, "BILL!"

There was a dull thud as Bill leaned against their door; a lot less shouty, he quickly said, "I'm going to bed, I'm going to bed, I'm going to bed."

"That's what I thought," Stan snapped. The kids heard his footsteps retreating downstairs. Soos said, "Um... night," and his door shut. After a moment, there was the creak of footsteps retreating from the attic door.

Dipper and Mabel slowly, softly snuck across the room to the door, and pressed their ears to the crack. No sound.

They stayed there for several minutes, barely breathing, listening to the silence.

Finally, Mabel pulled away and looked at Dipper. They both nodded, and Dipper opened the door a crack to check if the coast was clear.

Bill's eye stared in. "Hey, kids!"

They yelled. Dipper tried to slam the door; but Bill had already shoved his hand through. Fingernails painted with neon colors and black spirals clawed at the doorframe. He shouldered through the gap in the door, and then he was in the room, smiling much too wide and eyes fixed on them like helicopter spotlights on two wanted criminals. There was blood on his teeth. "Wow! Playing with poppets?"

Dipper upturned his suitcase and held it up like a shield. Mabel pointed a can of spray paint at Bill's face. Bill took a step closer and they took a step back.

"Pretty advanced trick for a couple of children your age," Bill said conversationally. "Not bad, not bad at all. Heck, I'm impressed you pulled it off! Although you didn't make a very smart choice of test subject." He stomped a foot twice.

Something in the nightstand thudded twice. The twins jumped. Bill laughed at them.

Mentally cursing himself for having flinched, Dipper straightened his back and glared at Bill. "You're just mad you got jerked around like a puppet! What's the matter, Bill—you can dish it but you can't take it?" Mabel looked at Dipper like he was crazy.

Bill's indulgent smile cracked, dropping into a snarl of rage. He shifted his weight toward them. Mabel dropped into a judo stance and Dipper sucked in a breath to shout for Stan.

Before anyone could launch a full attack, Mabel took a shaky breath in, forced a nervous smile, and said, "Bill, hey..." (His eyes snapped to her face like a predator that just heard a twig snap.) "This was—just a funny prank, and we're all cool? Right?"

"Mabel," Dipper muttered. "Shhh!"

But Mabel kept looking at Bill. "Right? Buddies?" She held up her arm, showing Bill her friendship bracelet.

Bill stopped and rocked back on his heels. He gave Mabel a long, hard look—like he was seriously considering whether to accept the reality she was inventing. "Yeah. Real funny." Smiling through grit teeth, he said, "You know—it's been a while since I've had my energy strung between two vessels. I didn't even know what that experience felt like for a human! Very interesting. Educational. And it was nice to feel weightless again for a second. Even if the landing was a little rough." He licked the blood off his teeth. One of the teeth shifted. "So—thanks so much for spicing up a boring night. It's been a real blast. Hasn't it." He stared at them like he expected an answer—and possibly like he planned to strangle whoever answered first.

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look. Dipper shook his head slightly. Mabel looked Bill in the eyes again. "Yeah! Big blast. So, you're not... mad. Right? Nobody's mad!"

Bill stared her down for a moment longer; and then said, "Sure, kid! It's all fun and games!" He forced a laugh—and then another, longer one, hahhh, like he was exhaling all his rage. And just like that, he was back to normal. "I'll admit it—for a second there, you almost got me good! Not bad at all." He held out his hand insistently. "And now the game's over, so you're gonna give me that toy so I can neutralize it. Aren't you?"

Dipper bit his lip, looking past Bill toward the stairs. He could yell for Stan; there was no way Bill could kill them before reinforcements got here—

Mabel elbowed Dipper's side and whispered, "We can't keep it."

And she was right. Now that Bill knew about the doll, he'd be spending all his time plotting how to get past them to take it, and they wouldn't have a second's peace. Either he got it now, or he got it later. Bill wouldn't rest until the doll was out of their hands.

Because he was terrified of it. Why wouldn't he be?

"Yeah," Dipper sighed. "Game over."

"I'll get it." Mabel peeled just enough duct tape off the night stand to wiggle it open a crack and try to squeeze her fingers in. Bill stretched his hand toward Mabel, and the doll stretched an arm out of the drawer. Mabel flinched in surprise, but grabbed the arm and yanked the doll free.

"Ow." Bill grabbed his shoulder and rolled it gingerly. "Careful, kid, are you trying to dislocate my arm? I don't mind popping it back in, but eventually that socket's gonna wear out."

"Sorry! It was a tight squeeze." She held the doll over Dipper's suitcase shield. "Here."

Bill snatched it from her hand. "Thanks a million, star girl." He favored them both with his most nearly-charming, far-too-wide smile. "Good night, kiddos. Have sweet dreams."

"You too," Mabel said weakly.

Bill left. Dipper shut the door. He and Mabel both heaved a sigh of relief.

From the loft over the attic, Bartholomew called, "Is he gone?"

"What are you doing up there?" Mabel asked. "Barty-mew-mew the scaredy-cat."

"I'm not fighting that guy, I'm porcelain and he's crazy."

Dipper flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "Welp. I'm gonna have nightmares about Bill chasing me up the stairs."

Mabel sat on her own bed. "He just wanted to terrify us. And to keep us from seeing we'd terrified him." She fingered the star beads on her friendship bracelet. "He wouldn't have hurt us, I'm sure of it."

"Wh—seriously? You don't think Bill—"

"I know! But he's changed a tiny bit! He'd hurt anyone else, but he won't hurt us," Mabel said. "Or—well, me, at least. But I think he'll leave you alone too if I'm with you!"

Dipper pushed himself up on his elbows to look at her. "If he'd caught us on the stairs, do you really think he wouldn't have tried to tear us apart?"

Mabel considered that; and then reluctantly admitted, "He wouldn't hurt me as long as he remembers he doesn't want to hurt me." 

"Yeah, well. I wouldn't count on him remembering when he's mad." Dipper slid under his covers and rolled over. "Barty, can you get the lights?"

"Sure, one second." All the lights and lamps in the room flickered ominously; and then, with a sinister pop, snapped off without being touched.

"Thanks, man."

Mabel didn't climb into bed. She was staring at her fingernails. She'd painted them the same colors as Bill's; but she'd used a black marker to draw spirals on his, and he'd drawn stars and sloppy tiger stripes on hers.  In the dark, the colors were all faded.

This time, just once, maybe she and Dipper were the bad guys. He might disagree—he'd actually been puppeted, maybe he saw this differently from Mabel—but that probably didn't make it okay to do it back to Bill just for fun. They should've saved the poppet for an emergency. And the cancan, she decided, was definitely too much.

She smoothed out her covers; then she pulled up her knees to her chest, hugged them, and stared thoughtfully down at Bill's face in the middle of her zodiac blanket.

####

In the dark and quiet of the downstairs bathroom, Bill sat cross-legged on the toilet lid. He held the doll in his cupped hands. Soon, he'd disassemble it—but not yet. Tonight, it was his tool. He shut his eyes and focused on it.

There was the thinnest thread of energy, channeled through his shed hair, connecting this doll to him. He studied the thread, feeling it in his mind, exploring it, strengthening it—until he could almost feel it tugging on him.

And then he started psychically groping for similar connections.

He set the doll on the floor, on top of the drawing Mabel had given him.

His other eyes—the billions of depictions of his face scattered across this planet—weren't meant to be used in this dimension. They were designed like windows he could peer through from the Nightmare Realm; here on Earth, he was on the wrong side of the windows to see through them. And he wouldn't be surprised if the Axolotl had somehow found a way to blindfold them on top of that—after all, he seemed to have done the same to most of Bill's other abilities.

But Bill was resourceful, he was stubborn, and he didn't have anything better to do.

He focused all his energy on trying to feel the drawing the same way he felt the doll, searching for a connection between this body and that face—and he searched, and searched, and searched.

He wasn't sure how long he tried. At least a couple of hours. Straining, straining—for nothing. His head hurt.

What was the difference? The doll was shaped like him, the drawing was shaped like him. What did the doll have that the drawing didn't?

The hair. A bit of his flesh.

Bill knelt over the picture, studying it in the dark. He opened an eye wide, wiped a fingertip across the surface of his eyeball to collect his tears, and pressed it to the drawing's eye.

He could feel a thread of energy stringing from his eye to the paper.

He climbed back on the toilet lid, shut his eyes, and focused on that thread. With an effort that threatened to split his head in two, he pried open his inner eye. And then he was staring up at his own human form from the drawing on the floor.

His body was shaking. His head was throbbing. He wobbled dizzily on the toilet; and as he saw himself topple off, his trance broke, the vision disappeared, and he blacked out. White spots burst behind his eyes.

When he next opened an eye, the room was spinning. He shut his eye. It was several minutes before he could sit up without being sick. He leaned against the wall and let the sweat on his forehead and cheek soak the old wallpaper.

The white spots he'd seen as he passed out were his distant all-seeing eyes. 

He'd done something tonight. That was good. But there was no way he was seeing through any other pictures like that. He needed something he could focus his power through, like an antenna.

He needed gold.

####

(Last chapter of the year!! If you enjoyed, I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts & comments! Thanks!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[ynbabe]

Fake texts au- pt.13 bffs with the rookies+ Home alone in Monaco

Guys, who do you think the main pair should be? Cause we still have one contender yet to be revealed 😈

| Masterlist |

Arthurs P.O.V-

He walked out the door to grab your bags from the trunk of his car, when he heard the door open behind him, he thought it was Y/n so he turned around to tease the girl, "Miss me already- Oh Lorenzo!" He was surprised by the presence of his oldest brother.

His older brother looked at him weirdly but then walked up to the trunk where he was, leaning on it, "Arthur, nous devons parler," (Arthur, we need to talk,) He said, making me confused, talk about what?

He shifted again, seemingly uncomfortable, "Écoute, maman m'a demandé de te parler-" (Listen, mom asked me to talk to you-), I interrupted him too tired to have a proper conversation, I just wanted to get in the house and have dinner and talk with Y/n.

"de quoi, enzo," (what, enzo,)

"à propos de ton ami," (about your friend,)

"What about y/n?" I was even more confused now, enzo never spoke to me about Ollie, it was only that one embarrassing talk with Maman.

"Are you sure she's just a friend?" He asked making me groan, why this AGAIN. It's not like the media will leave us alone and now Maman and Lorenzo too?

"Yes, she's just a friend, Lorenzo, we're all just friends, this like Maman and Ollie all over again," I complained and cringed as Enzo raised his brow, he was definitely going to gossip with Maman about this.

"Are you sure? and are you sure you can trust her?" what the hell?

"Enzo of course, what the fuck!" Why would he even ask me that? She's been there for me through thick and thin, even when I couldn't talk to Enzo or Charlie or Maman, I could talk to her and she'd find a way to make it better.

"Arthur, not everyone has the best intentions, it's happened to Charlie many times-" How could he?!

"WELL I'M NOT CHARLIE," I couldn't stop my voice from rising, why would my brother even say something like that? My accent thickened, even if I had been media-trained, it crept up sometimes, too thick to understand when I was angry or sad, or even excited. Right now, I was definitely angry.

"J'essaie juste de prendre soin de toi," ( I'm just trying to take care of you,) he kept explaining but I was done.

"Well don't, je ne suis pas un enfant," (I'm not a child,) with that, he turned around and opened the trunk making him move away from it.

Just as I had yelled out at Lorenzo, Charles walked out of the house, he looked between the both of us confused and then walked forward in realisation, helping me take out Y/n's bags he shut the trunk and jumped up to sit on it.

Great, another lecture.

"Arthur, don't roll your eyes they'll get stuck that way," he chided, as he looked at the door, shifting a little and giving Lorenzo some space to lean on the car, they'd always been closer.

"I think Maman and Alex are interrogating Y/n right now," He chuckled, but it just made me angrier, "Like how she'd made you sit through that whole lecture with Alex, huh?" he nudged Enzo's shoulder with his elbow.

"What? why?" I asked, trying not to yell at them.

"Well, because Maman was worried Alex was-" He started,

"Non, Why is Y/n getting the lecture? We aren't even dating?" I asked still not getting why everyone was so upset over me inviting my friend. I had invited many others before.

"Arthur, that's what I was trying to explain-" Enzo began but I was still mad at him,

"You keep quiet, I'm still mad at you," He stopped explaining but grumbled about something which I didn't pay attention to.

"Okay," Charles whistled, "I think we can go inside now, boys," he jumped off the trunk, passing the backpack to me, grabbing the duffle himself and leaving the heaviest bag to Enzo.

Enzo, of course, complained about being too old for this but walked off anyways, but Charles held back, slinging the duffle over his shoulder, "You know, Princie," He'd begun using the nickname to tease me after Y/n but it had stuck, "It's the way you look at her,"

"Charlie, what-"

"And the way you talk about her, did you think Maman and Enzo missed that? You were practically jumping all week to meet her." He continued making my face feel warm. It wasn't true... of course not, he behaves the same for Oscar and Logan too, yeah, definitely.

.xX*Xx.

After dinner and the small fight, both of us were too tired to stay awake and talk as we had planned, Y/n had already thrown herself on the far side of the bed, covering herself in the blanket, and I followed.

The words slipped out of my mouth before I could realise what I was saying, "Bonne nuit, chérie." Fuck.

Y/N'S P.O.V-

I woke up without being able to breathe, I opened my eyes to see Arthur lying half on me, his arm around my waist, now I knew why Logan refused to pair up with him.

"Arthur," I whispered, poking his hand, "Arthur!" I whisper-yelled, trying to shove his arm off, my oxygen depleting fast, it was now a moment of survival, "ARTHUR!" I screamed out, making him fall off the bed in surprise, finally letting me breathe.

"QUOI! ES-TU EN SÉCURITÉ?" ( WHAT! ARE YOU SAFE?), He yelled in French, reminding me just how much I didn't know the language, "Y/n?" He seemed more awake, "WHAT THE HELL! WHAT DID YOU PUSH ME?" He yelled at me.

"PUSH YOU? YOU WERE ON TOP OF ME, I COULDN'T BREATH!" I yelled back.

His face turned red, "Oh, um, sorry, oh merde-" he cursed looking at the clock on his wall, "We're so late, Maman's going to kill me!" He got off the floor quickly, running around the room to get a new change of clothes?

"Wait, what do you mean we're late?" I asked, still dazed with sleep.

"We were supposed to go out today, we were supposed to leave by 7!" It was ten now.

Shit, that made me jump out of bed, I could not be making a worse impression on Arthur's Mom and brother, especially after last night.

"Shit, shit, shit," I panicked as I opened my bags to find clothes that fit the vibe. Unfortunately, Australia was a whole different story than Monaco.

"Where's, the bathroom?" I asked.

"What?"

"Well, I can't shower here now, can I?" I responded sarcastically making him blush.

"Uh, yeah, through here," He pointed to a door in the room and I ran in, trying not to waste any time.

I got out soon, and he ran in, both too scared to anger his mother and brother.

As soon as he walked out, hair wet and shirt clinging to his body, I rushed him out of the room, "Mate, your mum's gonna think I was seducing you or some shit," I yelled as I jumped down the staircase.

I tried to pull the door open but it didn't budge, "Arthur!" I yelled out, still pulling on the door, "It's locked." I gave up, walking away.

"What? Non non non," He looked panicked, going to the side door in the kitchen and the back door, he checked all the windows on the ground floor but they were shut too.

"They forgot us," his accent thickened, "Oh my god," he rubbed his palms across his face.

"Wait, look at it this way, now we can pull this over them every time," I laughed, making him laugh as well.

"Mate, I so want to go back to bed," I grumbled, feeling sleepy already.

"Honestly, Y/n," he scoffed, walking to the kitchen as I lay on the sofa, he came back with a large bowl of cereal, passing a spoon to me and digging in with another one himself.

"Mate, is this a salad bowl?" I asked,

"Fuck if I know," he shrugged.

We finished the cereal, looking around restlessly on what to do next, "Maybe we can call one of your brothers?" I asked, turning my head to him.

"Can't find my phone, you?" He whispered back,

"Phones out of charge," I said, making him giggle, "What?" I laughed back.

"Your phone is always out of charge," He said moving his hands around,

"It's so not!" I yelled back, suddenly energized, all sleep fading away.

"Do you want to go one twitch?" He asked jumping up from the sofa, "We can go live from Charlie's account!" He suggested and ran up the stairs to Charles's room, where he had his PC set up for the holidays.

"Don't you have your own account?" I yelled after him, following him up the stairs.

"I forgot the login," he said nonchalantly.

"And you remember, Charles'?"

"Yes"

I pulled up the dresser table chair up to the PC as he logged into his brother's account and went live, immediately pulling in thousands of viewers, all spamming the chat with various degrees of CHARLES?!?! or Arthur?!? with a few people asking about me.

"Hello, Chat! It's our Twitch era," I spoke out, making Arthur laugh, which made me laugh, we had been very giggly the whole day, it was probably the sugar from the cereal.

"Yes, my brothers forgot us at home so now we are causing chaos online!" He spoke to the audience, there had been at least eighty thousand people watching.

"Okay, so first-" I called out scrolling through my apps to open Tumblr, "We're gonna go through the f1 tags on Tumblr," I smiled into the camera as the chat went haywire, some yelling 'no' in all caps, the others happy at the decision.

Arthur on the other hand was blissfully unaware, "What's Tumblr?"

I made my best evil smile to the camera and passed the phone to him, making him scream at the number of shirtless pics, edits and fanfics.

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

.xX With Charles and Lorenzo Xx.

The brothers walked along the shops, Lorenzo holding the bags that Charles and Alex had already shopped for, "Charlie, je n'en peux plus de sacs, ça suffit déjà !" (Charlie, I can't take any more bags, that's enough already!) he whined as Charles passed more bags to him.

He had shopped in two stores, Alex in five, but Charles? He had stopped by every single store, pulling Alex and Lorenzo in and sometimes even forgetting them to run in the store by himself and come out holding at least three bags.

"Demandez juste à Arthur et Y/n de le tenir," (Just ask Arthur and Y/n to hold them,) He yelled out as he walked into another shop, for glasses this time... as if he didn't have enough from his sponsors already.

He called out to Arthur, and then to Y/n when he got no answer, and then he began panicking, "ARTHUR? ARTHUR, THIS IS NOT FUNNY!" He yelled out, standing on his toes to seek out the blonde and his friend.

Alex heard him and ran out to him, Charles following suit, wearing a brand new pair of sunglasses, "Enzo, what happened?" He asked.

"I cannot find Arthur and y/n," He looked around, with wide eyes, calling out for them, "If maman finds out w lost Arthur, we. are, dead!" He hissed at Charles.

"He's not lost," Charles tried to comfort his brother, "They're probably just shopping."

"Okay, okay," He dragged his hand through his hair, "I'll call Arthur, You call Y/n," He instructed, keeping all the bags down.

"She isn't picking up," Charles declared after a few calls.

"Neither is he," Lorenzo added, they spent the rest of the day looking for their youngest sibling and his friend, Stopping only once to grab a quick bite.

"Maman is going to kill me, Charlie!" He exclaimed it was three pm now. Their mother would be home in another three hours.

"He will be fine, Enzo, they aren't children anymore," Charles shrugged, sipping on a smoothie, texting Max on his phone as his brother continued to panic, Alex had given up long ago and was now simply taking in the Leclerc family chaos, "But yes, Maman will kill you for getting her favourite kidnapped," he continued to tease.

"THEY'RE NOT KIDNAPPED," Lorenzo yelled at Charles, turning red, "I'm too old for this," he whispered as he shoved the bags he was still holding to Charles, "Hold your own bags,"

"Enzo please," Charles cried out but stopped as Lando texted him, "What the hell?" He said out loud making the other two crowd around him.

"THEY'RE AT HOME! WE FORGOT THEM AT HOME!" He cried out and ran to their car, Lorenzo got into the driver's seat as Alex and Charles shoved their bags in the trunk and jumped into the back seat together.

"Lando just texted me, They've been live on since morning!" He yelled, getting angry, "Why on my account?" He whined making Alex slap his shoulder.

"That's what you care about?" She teased him, "You are such a middle child, Charles," She laughed and sat back.

They reached the house in record time, almost impossibly fast.

Lorenzo parked and ran to open the door quickly, Charles right behind him, ran in and up to his room, "WE WERE SO WORRIED"

"PUTAIN," Lorenzo yelled at Charles and threw a pillow at him, "You were drinking a smoothie and I was going mad looking for them!" He shrieked, and Charles fought back.

"Okay, Chat, I think Arthur is going to get his ass beat now, so byeeeee," Y/n yelled over the noise.

"NO I AM NOT-" Arthur began but was cut off by a pillow being thrown at him, cutting off the stream.

f1fame

liked by 21,023 users

f1fame NEW WAG ALERT!! Arthur Leclerc and Y/n L/n were streaming on Twitch through Charles Leclerc's account. According to the stream, she had spent the week prior with Logan and Oscar in Australia. Who could she be dating?

view all 10,874 comments

username She could be just friends, ever heard of that?

username ong like leave a bitch alone 😭

username They are the cooler Twitch quartet for real your honour

username still find it kinda weird she just hangs around them the whole time doesn't she know anyone else?? username girl shut up 🙄

I wish I could stream on Twitch 😭 or even youtube idk what to do tho

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1 @eugene-emt-roe @fangirl-dot-com @landosgirlxoxo @aquangxl @sachaa-ff @tyna-19 @assholeinatrenchcoat

#f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #f1 smau #smau #social media au #fake texting au #fake texts #fake text #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #lorenzo leclerc

[mmmichyyy]

🌸 gallavich fic rec list 🌸

welcome to my 2023 fic rec list! i went through my ao3 bookmarks and my tumblr tags from this year so here's some (not all, or else this post would go on forever) of my fave (new & older) one-shots, completed multi-chaps, wips & ficlets <3

make sure to check out my 2021 list & my 2022 list ! since i'm not going to include fics i've mentioned before in this year's list :)

& don't forget to check out @gallavichfanficlibrary @gallavich-fic-club @gallavichthings @thegallavault for more recs plus @galladrabbles & @gallavichmeta too ✨ let's go!

one-shots:

doesn't matter where we go by @heymacy (The boys take a road trip.)

to think that we could stay the same by teatrolley (post-breakup au, but Mickey gets out of prison, Caleb doesn't exist, and we get really into their past and Ian’s (struggling) head)

of going home by @lalazeewrites (Valiant has taken the greatest fall from grace the superhero world has witnessed in years. The Shrike is an unregistered vigilante who doesn't even ping the radar of Chicago's crime fighting scene. Ian is forcibly put on leave from his job and returns to the Gallagher house, a failure all over again. Not only does he not know what Mickey does when the world goes dark, he doesn't know that Mickey is still living southside at all. Not since the events of eight years ago.)

quiet by @babygirlmickey (In the quiet of a perceived absence of scrutiny, Mickey can be incontrovertibly tender. Or: 5 times Mickey lets his guard down, as observed by various third parties.)

all i need in this life of sin (is me and my husband) by literatii (As embarrassing as it might be, Ian is not only his husband but also his best friend, and Mickey is pretty damn okay with that. Why the fuck would he find other people to do the exact same shit with that he already does with Ian, minus the fucking, when he can just do that shit with Ian plus the fucking? It makes no sense. Or: Ian wants the two of them to have more friends. Mickey doesn’t.)

thirteen hours by @crossmydna (Ian has known for thirteen hours that he’s not crossing the border with Mickey, so he makes the most of the time he has left with him.)

queen of decatur by jaxington (“How’d you know that?” Ian asks, smelling chum in the water, the observant little fuck. “Not like your brothers are getting sent to lady prison all that often.” Mickey thumbs at his lip, trying to find a way out of this conversation. It probably wouldn’t be too hard to distract Ian just by taking of his pants, but he is trying this new thing where he actually tells Ian what’s going on in his head. “No.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “It’s my mom.”)

like strings of fire by @gardenerian (mickey finds a safe and colorful way for ian to indulge himself when hypersexuality rears its ugly head.)

the needle and the burning body by squash (jesuisgourde) (Mickey had two burning torches for hands but he knew what to do with them. Ian's head was on fire and all he knew was how to run and keep running. How to find a cliff and jump off. How to make Mickey chase after him, again and again. And in a cold cell in prison, Mickey catches him.)

some fucked up romcom by godisthedice (Two years after they locked him up, Mickey told himself that he was done with Ian fucking Gallagher for good. Two years as a free man and he's marrying him for all the wrong reasons.)

when the sun goes down by @sam-loves-seb (super cute and fluffy lifeguard au!)

lava java by @stocious (He's being really unprofessional. Mickey might not even be gay. He might be hitting on a straight man through takeout cups.)

here's to hoping i'm not what kills you by @crestfallercanyon (After a confrontation gone bad, Mickey and the Gallaghers get Ian to the hospital. And look, Mickey always knew that if the Gallaghers had a will they'd find a way, but being roped into their schemes himself wasn't something he'd planned on signing on for. All the Gallaghers need to know is Mickey's helping out because he's not pure fucking evil. They don't need to know Mickey was scared shitless when Ian got knocked unconscious, Jesus, he can barely admit that to himself. Once Mickey knows Ian's not dead and not dying, he's out of there. Except he can't bring himself to leave.)

to the thawing wind by @gardenerian (Living and working in the icy chill of an endless winter, Ian and his family are assigned to work the farms to bolster food supply. They live quietly enough, following the rules, until Mickey and Mandy Milkovich (with all their secrets) are moved in across the road.)

i'll come meet you where you are by @crestfallercanyon (Mickey comes back from prison with a ring of vicious bruises around his neck and an edge to him Ian doesn't recognize. But he came back. He came back, and now it's time for Ian to meet him halfway.

closing in walls and ticking clocks by c_cups_bitch_u_wish (So, this is happening. Mickey is sitting in the corner of the bedroom on the comfiest fucking chair he’s ever sat in, and his adult self and adult Ian are about to fuck. And he’s going to watch. What's most odd is that this doesn't even feel like the weirdest thing to happen to him today.)

a spark of fire by @lingy910y (“You wanted us to finally have some time alone. You wanted to keep me safe, but you didn’t really care as long as we were together. You didn’t want it to end.” Mickey swallows a lump in his throat. “I…I don’t fuckin’ know.” “But can I, uh, ask you something else?” Ian rubs his thumbs together. “You like me, Mick. You fucking like me.”)

flip fuck? by @gallawitchxx (Mickey’s always thought that Valentine’s Day was fucking gay. But then some dramatic, ginger fuckhead had to move into the room next to his, and steal his hole, his heart, and the attention of his tumblr mutuals. Mickey decides to keep it lowkey when he asks Ian to spend the evening together: You wanna hang out on Tuesday? Ian’s response is quick and gives absolutely nothing away: Sure thing! That big-dicked idiot better remember it’s fucking Valentine’s Day.)

completed:

prelude motel by @whatthebodygraspsnot (When Mickey’s secret spot is infiltrated by an intriguing stranger, all the warning signs are there. Despite the voice in the back of his head telling him to disengage, he can’t help but bite off more than he can chew, running straight back to the spot and the stranger when a job leaves him injured. Enter: the Prelude Motel - where, for the next three days, Mickey finds himself hiding from more than just his pursuers.)

garden song (series) by @gardenerian (two gorgeous fics about ian's bipolar, about hope, healing, and tomatoes)

better by anomalously (It's been ten years since Ian's seen Mickey.)

in your love by @sgtmickeyslaughter (Mickey had been out of prison for 2 years and Ian never would have known until they ran into one another on a random night in May. Ian fights for the love they shared while Mickey fights for the life he built, as they both struggle with shame and guilt from their shared past it becomes clear that they cannot help but be drawn to what is bright and beautiful between them.)

whumptober 2023 (series) by @sam-loves-seb (21 beautiful fics of angst & hurt/comfort)

out of nowhere by @suzy-queued (Ian should have never offered to hide his father's stash of gold. Now he's stuck living on a deserted piece of land in the woods, alone, losing his sanity. Mickey wants nothing more than to disappear — from prison, from his family, from the entire world. If only he knew where to get his hands on a cool million. The Gallagher gold. Mickey wants it. Ian will do anything to protect it. Who will cave first?)

all these things i have left to say to you by @crestfallercanyon (After all this time that Ian's been missing, he leaves a tape recorder on Mickey's pillow. And on it? An hour of pure, unfiltered, Ian audio that is all, apparently, dedicated to him.)

wips:

keys to my heart by @milkovichrules (Ian finds his stable college life getting difficult when a new neighbour moves into the dorms.)

intro to quantum dating by @spoonfulstar (another college au) (one of my fave fics of all time!!)

the ink is a witness to this by @palepinkgoat (six chapters about the stories tattoos can hold and hide.)

order up by @heymacy (Ian and Mickey work together at a Chicago diner. They like to push each other's buttons - all their buttons. How long until the dam finally breaks?)

second chapters by @squidyyy23 (When Mickey’s PO assigns him a job at the local library, he’s pleasantly surprised—not that he’d ever admit it. Practically lived in the prison library, and what better way to start his new life than with a career he might actually enjoy. And when he meets the charming, clever, utterly fuckable, redheaded children’s librarian, well, shit just keeps getting better and better. Mickey’s definitely not interested in anything serious right now, but what’s the harm in a little fun?)

electric blue by @goodkwuestion (Paramedic Ian Gallagher knows true love exists. He's not going to settle until he finds it either, no matter how much his friends and family roll their eyes at him. Mickey Milkovich, on the other hand, isn't sure about all that stuff. He's an engineer with a long to-do list, and chasing rainbows isn't on it. He'll never say no to a good time and a pretty face though. When they meet, it will feel like kismet, something inevitable that neither of them can shake. Honestly though, who would want to? Falling in love can be the easiest thing in the world, especially when the whole universe is rooting for you... That's if the whole universe is rooting for you.)

ficlets:

all of @heymrspatel's drabbles, especially this one of ian being self-conscious about his body

docks scene & birthday suit gardening ficlets by @metalheadmickey

all of @lupeloto's sweet & domestic ficlets

@sam-loves-seb's meta about ian being the moon and mickey being the sun

ian's birthday ficlet & 31 ways we never meet (a.u.gust 2023 ficlets) by @callivich

airport confessions by @dynamic-power

gallavich drabbles by @whatthebodygraspsnot

all of @howlinchickhowl's a.u.gust 2023 ficlets!

(if you made it this far, i also write fics occasionally too so here's a self-promo lol)

#gallavich fic rec #gallavich fic #ian and mickey fic #gallavich fic recs #ian x mickey #gallavich

[bonefall]

since squirrelflight isn't sparkpelts mom, or brambleclaws mate, whats the context (i think squirrelflights hope) where sparkpelt calls her a mouseheart for sticking up for brambleclaw

I think a lot of people forget that the context in the book was not great to begin with, since we collectively remember it from Moonkitti's video where she's making a point that Sparkpelt is acknowedging Bramblestar's mistreatment. It's part of her argument, demonstrating that even cats WITHIN the Clan can see that Bramble is treating his wife poorly.

But people who haven't read the book (or haven't in a while and half-remember it) construct context backwards from that, and think it was Sparkpelt trying to tell her mom to stop getting pushed around. It's not.

The context was; Sparkpelt wants Bramblestar to nonsensically start a war with ShadowClan because she thinks they poisoned Larksong.

She's not thinking straight because she's stressed. She's blaming ShadowClan because they'd previously poisoned SkyClan, and believes the motive is that they're angry with Bramblestar for trying to keep the peace. Yelling at her mother is supposed to be an example of irrationally lashing out.

It's also, probably, another opportunity for the writers to torment Squilf tbh. Sparkpelt screams at her that she's being a coward for defending the things Squilf had to BEG Bramblestar to do, so that Bramblestar can step in and tut-tut her with, "don't call your mom a mouseheart when ACTUALLY she's a bitch." Then he turns around to cry that his whole family hates him and he's actually the saddest little ducky in the kiddie pool. Lmaoo

So anyway. Squirrelflight's Horror.

Yep, Sparkpelt's no longer Squirrelflight's daughter; these two are Apprentice and Mentor.

And, yep, Squirrelflight broke it off with Bramblestar after OotS. They never get back together; Sparkpelt's mother is Jessy. But, in the very beginning of this book... she starts to feel bad for him, a tiny bit of the love they had re-sparks, and they're courting again.

Not "mates," but the equivalent of dating.

...Much to the chagrin of Squirrelflight's children, as all three of them have disavowed Bramblestar. Fallenleaf and Jayfeather awkwardly try not to get involved, and Lionblaze probably ends up in a argument with her as he tries to forcefully warn her about what a stupid choice she's making. They both dig their heels in because they are a lot alike, and Lionblaze's explosive confrontation only made the situation worse.

And tertiary effects: Toadstep takes his mate's side, but his mother Daisy (Squilf's best friend) and sister Rosepetal, (Squilf's first apprentice), choose to support Squirrelflight in whatever she does. Squilf's grandchild Hollylark and her apprentice, Sparkpelt, are... cautiously optimistic.

Sparkpelt's relationship with her dad has always been extremely strained. She wants to love him... but she's been involved in his little "tests" before. Squilf was always the one who PROTECTED her from them, an emotional rock during the storm that was her adolescence. Squilf knows what she's doing. She's aware of what she's getting into. She wants her dad to be happy. She knows he hasn't been happy since Jessy left him.

They All Know This. Yes?

So... she should be glad, right? That the people she loves are going to make each other happy? Maybe this will... you know... fix him. And her kits can be born into a happy world where their grandfather isn't so... frustrating.

Or, maybe she can just, HOPE, y'know? Maybe things can be okay after all? Just once?

Hollylark meanwhile is like, "Sure babe it's all gonna be fine! Nothing terrible is going to happen, hahahahahahahaha" as xey purchase 14 fire extinguishers, an insurance plan, and consult the Clerics on the best god to pray to. Alderheart solemnly tells xem that if there was a god who could help, he would have worshiped them long ago.

Leafpool sighs, "at least try goldenflower."

Squirrelflight's Horror's purpose is to set up the events of TBC. Bramblestar's controversial choices here, getting his entire Clan wrapped up in an abusive game he's going to play with his ex-wife/sort-of girlfriend, and ultimately leading his Clan into a controversial battle that gets Leafpool killed, is why no one caught that he was replaced by a cruel impostor.

But most of all, it's about Squirrelflight. It's her going on trial to defend Fire Alone as an ideology in the modern era, it's setting up how her worst enemy will kill to hurt her but how her allies support her, and it's her finally rejecting any love she has left lingering for someone who has proven that he can't treat her well, so that she can focus on all the people who do.

Her heart WILL lead her to make some rash, destructive choices, but nothing she's ever done out of compassion will be something she apologizes for.

SO the change of context around Hollylark's poisoning and death.

For one, Hollylark is now something more interesting. Xey are a Nature Spirit, one of the new entities in BB that I'm still solidifying the rules for.

Other examples of Nature Spirits: Brokenstar, Star Flower.

They're quite rare, and typically born of bits of nature that were beloved for generations before being destroyed.

Hollylark was born because one of xeir moms had a magic misfire. So xey're extremely weak compared to those two.

Fallenleaf has no idea yet how exactly she did this... or, even, how far her own powers extend.

Over the course of this story, Fallen is also having a tiny realization of her own that she can't stay in ThunderClan. She's a God, now, with Sol trapped inside her chest.

Bramblestar WILL be trying to drag her into the conflict, and she has to stand firm and argue that her powers can't be used for politics... or...

this part she does not say, knowing that saying it out loud would only make Squilf double down like Lionblaze's big fight with her did,

Or for Bramblestar's stupid drama.

Of her siblings, she's carrying the least pain about Bramblestar's treatment. She dropped the secret, and then vanished into an adventure that took her from this life for a thousand moons.

Everything still feels very far away, in a sense. Like she's still a distance away from the Hollyleaf that she once was.

So... Bramblestar feels small. This all feels small. Petty.

Beneath her.

So, whatever happens to Hollylark... it feels like a cold rainstorm. If she'd felt somewhat numb and dazed before, reality HITS her.

She couldn't SAVE her child. She has NO IDEA what her powers really are, or their limits.

This causes Fallenleaf and her mate, Cinderheart, to leave the Clans in search of those answers. To find out what Fallenleaf's role, as the new God of Autumn, should be.

But that's Cinderheart's Travels. One of the BB books that doesn't have an equivalent canon book lmao.

And back on Hollylark.

My current thought is that Sparkpelt should end up a LOT sicker from the prey-poisoning, while Hollylark is the one who's less affected by it.

In my head, Hollylark through this SE is in a sort of role where xey're not giving a ton of xeir own opinions, clearly just trying to support Sparkpelt and the kits. Xey're unbelievably stressed out, but xeir response under pressure is to fawn.

So the context of Sparkpelt snapping at Squirrelflight would be that she's physically sick. She's tired, terrified for herself, her kits, and in her state, she's taking it out on Squilf.

Instead of blaming ShadowClan, though, I'm thinking it would be more relevant for Sparkpelt to be angry that Squilf is "Making Bramblestar so upset."

If she's going to be making accusations that are emotional and don't make any sense, Squilf should be noticing that Sparkpelt is being sucked right back into being the self-conscious, terrified child she used to be. Before she had a mentor to rely on.

She hates that Squirrelflight is "upsetting" Bramblestar, blaming her for his actions, in a way that she used to do to herself when she was young.

And at first, Squilf is going to ACCEPT that, and APOLOGIZE... until something happens in front of her to make her realize that if she did that, she would be saying that the toxic impulses she had to train OUT of Sparkpaw were "correct."

A recognition of herself through Sparkpelt before her. And a realization that, no matter what happens, she NEEDS to be there for Sparkpelt because she still needs someone in her corner.

I'm still working out the non-Trial parts of Squirrelflight's Horror, so this is still getting shuffled around. But next,

Bramblestar barges in to "defend" Squilf.

What I like about the original context is the way that Bramble takes a fight between Squilf and Spark and makes it all about himself. I think it's intriguing and telling that he takes the opportunity to guilt trip Squilf again.

And what I'd like to do with the idea in the context of BB, is have Bramble try to force himself into this very personal moment like he's both a hero of Squilf AND hurting sooo very much to do it. Like it was a favor he was doing her, to cut through his immense pain at being undermined and betrayed, to "stand by her side."

And Squirrelflight sees this and feels sickened.

How could she EVER apologize to Sparkpelt for making Bramblestar upset, when he's so callous he'll BARGE in to "save her" from his sick daughter?

Something he MOCKED her for, once, before she chose him over Ashfur?

She's not fully ready to FINALLY purge herself of Bramble, no, but it's one of the last steps. Apologizing to Sparkpelt seemed like the correct thing to do... until Bramblestar reminded her where their guilt comes from.

MOSTLY, I'm unsure of how to resolve this scene. I know I don't want Squilf to stand up for Sparkpelt yet though.

And I want that to bug her. She was such a swirling whirlwind of guilt, shock, and offense, that she did nothing. Caught between too many emotions, she froze.

So Bramble could either storm off like he does in-canon, OR, have Hollylark finally push in to tell them that they need to leave and cut it early.

At some point, perhaps as an ending to this scene or later, I do want Hollylark to express frustration at the way Bramblestar is changing Squirrelflight, and how she just stood back right there

Xey're wise enough to realize it's not Squilf DOING it, but can't help but feel a crushing disappointment that she's THIS old, THIS wise, been through SO MUCH because of this guy...

"I LOVE you, but it's not just about you either. Can't you see how he's finding aaaaall these ways to drag everyone in, just because he wants to get at you?"

And especially Sparkpelt. She needs all of her allies right now, most of all the very mentor who taught her she didn't deserve to feel the way her dad often makes her.

But Squilf did not push back for her. It was only one moment... but it was an important one. And she lapsed.

She can't let that happen ever again.

As for Hollylark, I know that I need to kill them before the end of this book. Like canon, xey're gone before Squilf has her trial. My current thought is that xey sacrifice themself in some way in order to save Sparkpelt's life, perhaps deciding to "take their pain onto myself" and dying in her place.

And that's the context, so far. I've got the Trial pretty solidly mapped out, but the reworked politics and interpersonal stuff are still a WIP. I know the beginning and the end, but the middle's still loose!

#Squirrelflight's Horror #Better Bones AU

[simonsomeriley]

please would you write for Ellie x doctor!reader in Jackson who looks after everyone and helps Ellie out after a patrol one day!

your wish is my command <3

1.3k words | gn!reader

You're walking on the slippery ice on the road of Jackson, you hear the sounds of children giggling through the streets, everything here just feels like home.

Even with the worries of whats going on outside, the little community you've all built together makes it at least a little bit better. Being able to help the people of your community, the children. Makes it all better, day by day.

In the morning, the elders go outside for their chit-chats and their coffee, watching the kids run outside. Playing football, drawing with chalk, finally being able to let kids be kids again.

The evenings are spent doing your jobs and your tasks, gathering supplies like wood, water refills, & food, the chefs are in the kitchen cooking up what they can make of what they have.

You, on the other hand, spend your evenings in the medical supply tent. Putting cartoon bandaids on kids' knees after they fall, stitching up some people who have fallen on the ice. And what you do best, take care of your self-proclaimed "hunters" after they've been out on patrol.

And the night time is spent with dim lights, cleaning up, & getting children ready for bed.

Your medical tent is usually up 24/7, just in case an emergency happens past usual work hours. If there has been a lot of cases in one day, usually the nice older lady that runs the bakery will get you a sweet treat as a reward.

You're just cleaning up the tent per usual in the afternoon, mopping the floor and sanitizing what tools you have. There had been Ellie's turn to go on patrol today, Ellie and Jessie together. They'd left a couple of hours ago, nothing seemingly out of order. Usually they'd stay out until it got dark, or in Joel's words "Testing God's patience."

You hear the sound of hooves, galloping, humans running to open the gates & lots of loud talking. It dies down after a while, you decide that it wasn't anything urgent. Assuming that if it was, you'd probably be called over for some look-overs for serious injuries.

You hear someone enter your tent, you look up from where you're sterilizing some needles. It's Jesse. He's alone. You'd just assumed Ellie came hand-in-hand with Jesse, realizing now that it wasn't the case.

"Anything happen, Jesse? Anything I need to get my emergency kit out for?" Jesse looks around, like he's familiarizing his surroundings, "Nah. To me? No. Ellie could use some help, though. Hopefully nothing too serious. She got some infected hangin' off of Shimmer,"

You stand up, gathering some items off of your desk and putting them in an over the shoulder bag, "She's fine though, right? No injuries, just some bruising I'm assuming?"

"If you're talking about the horse, Shimmer's fine. If you're talking about the human, Ellie's not lookin' too hot. Luckily the infected got off by the time we neared the gates. Think she hit her head pretty hard, though."

You walk over to the opening of the tent, where Jesse's standing in the makeshift "doorway", "I'll have a look at 'er. Make sure you get the horses in the stables, okay?"

Jesse backs up, walking out of the tent, "Sure, mom. Good thing there wasn't any major weather. The infected were hiding under the already fallen snow. No way to figure out whether there'd be infected under there or not. I'd say we made it out pretty good for how many of those monsters were out there,"

You're walking towards the gate now, some people are gathered there & discussing patrol curfew, horses & partners. You spot Joel by Ellie's side though, seemingly she looked fine a tad bit, bruised, with some minor cuts, you spotted no extreme injuries or anything major.

Jesse's walked over to the stables now, you approach Ellie with your bag over your shoulder, "How're you holding up, Ells? You aren't looking so hot,"

She whips her head around at the sound of your voice, from where she's standing talking to Joel. "I'm fine," of course. The default, tiring, awkward response. I'm fine.

"Really, I could take you to the tent and just get you checked over. Make sure you don't have any deeper-than-skin injuries that'll affect you later,"

She seems to nod and sigh in defeat, the all stubborn girl she is, and she walks with you by your side back to the medical tent.

"Jesse told me about the infected. Seemed pretty intense out there, huh? Glad Shimmer's alright and you aren't missing any limbs,"

She holds eye contact as you speak, looking away at the end of your sentence and widening her eyes, "Yet. Never know how many of those guys are out there, y'know? It's hard to tell in the winter time. S'like they run on freezing weather or something,"

You lift up the entrance of the tent for her as she leans down to get under it, "You're reckless, you know that? You should be more careful. Like Joel says, you only live once, at least make it worth the while," she winces as she bends down, and she tries to cover it up. You notice.

You sit her down at a chair with a pillow on the seat, "You're not very good at pretending, do you know that?"

The smug grin on her face tells you enough.

You dampen a washcloth in the sink, bringing it over to her and wiping at the dried blood stains on her face. Most of it disappears without trace. That's good, that means it's mostly coming from one place. Not many wounds.

She has an indent in her upper lip. You take note of it.

You ask her to take off her jacket, leaving her in just her band t-shirt and her jeans. You check her arms for any wounds, and once you reckon you've found every injury, you get out your needle and thread.

You figure the cut in her upper lip would heal on its own, recommending her some cleaning solution to keep on her bedside table.

You sew the cut in her arm together, from what looks like could broken glass or a hard slam against the ground.

You put a band-aid over the stitching, and you're now instructing her on how to keep the cut on her upper lip clean. She's completely out of focus with what you're saying.

You keep rustling in your stash, finding the cleaning solution and q-tips at last, demonstrating how to take care of it.

Her eyes are only focused on you. She watches you like you hung the moon and the stars up in the sky.

You come back to your senses after ranting about cleaning wounds & how to do it at home, and you realize that she's closer to your face than what you remembered. You could almost feel her cold-minty breath on your face if you focused hard enough. Her pupils are dilated.

It's been quiet for a while. Neither of you notice or bring it up. It's a comfortable quiet. A shared silence.

You feel her lip graze yours. You want to stop her. You want to tell her off for this so bad, you'd say, "Ellie, you have a fresh cut on your lip. This isn't a good idea," but still. You can't bring yourself to say it. Not when her closeness feels this good. This right.

She asks permission. After sitting in silence for the past couple of minutes, she asks permission, "Can I?" you freeze. You don't know what to say.

Her eyes are on you. You feel her heart rhythm. Her breathing. You nod your head to the best of your abilities when your head feels this clouded from her attention.

She leans in close, and the gap between your lips closes. You feel her lips on yours for long, a sweet, heart-warming kiss. You can practically feel her smirk against your face before you pull away.

"Might have to be reckless more often if this is what I get out of it,"

#simonsomeriley #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #gender neutral reader #the last of us x reader #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us part 2 #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams hurt/comfort #ellie williams x female reader #doctor!reader #nurse!reader