#of course I had to give timmy his own set

[strawberriescherrieskiwi]

Girl Dad & Haircuts

Anon request:

idea for a timmy, bunny, and girls fic that could be super sweet and quick to write! Imagine T watching the girls for bunny and trying to give her an afternoon by herself but the girls get into trouble and cut their own hair. he takes them to get it fixed and they have matching sister haircuts when bunny gets back. They’d be too cute to be mad at 😂😍

Wordcount: 3.6K+

Masterlist

Description: Timmy decided to take the girls to set with him to give Bunny the day to relax out home by herself, but the day is anything but simple with two moody Chalamet.

A/N: I changed this a bit from the original request slightly. I had fun writing this and was a quick write, the longest was finding photos for the moodboard. haha. I hope you all enjoy and thank you for the request. Also should I do a poll of what Bagel Bite is? As always would love to hear what you all think.

Warning: Fluff, Family fluff. Timmy is the all time girl dad.

“Bunny I am insulted you don’t think I can handle the girls by myself,” Timmy pouted as he ran his hand along your growing bump. “I am their father you know that right?”

“Are you their father?” You teased.

Leaning down he bit your shoulder, “Be nice to me,” he mumbled.

You laughed tugging on his curls until you could see his pouting face. “You are their father, trust me I look at them and only see your face most of the time,” he said, kissing his nose. “And I know you can look after them but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about all three of you. Plus you have never taken them to work with you before.”

“I took Elle once.”

“Yes, when she was 2 and you called me about a dozen times and she ended up a camo in your film.”

“She loved being on set and the camera ate her up. She will be an actor like me one day. But,  in all honestly, that was years ago and nothing will happen. You need a relaxing day to yourself. You are growing our little bagel bite and I know all the noise is getting to you. I am just shooting a few blocks from here, it will be fine.”

“Promise you’ll call me if something bad happens?” You asked, softly.

“No. If something bad happens I will handle it.”

“But I want to know if something bad happens.”

“Okay if we have to go to the hospital or something I’ll call. Nothing else could be that bad right?” He asked, pressing his lips softly to yours.

You nodded, kissing him back. You were always in love with your husband, but it seemed during pregnancy you were even more in love with him. The way he looked after the family and took care of you and the girls warmed your heart.

Timothee pulled away first, smiling at you. “Nothing will happen. And I’ll bring home whatever you want for dinner.”

“Tacos, or Pasta, or ohh that place with the really good chicken sandwiches?” You asked excitedly.

“How about I bring home all of them and you can decide them?”

“That’s a waste of food and money, Chalamet.”

“First, you are my wife what you want you get. Second, the girls and I will help you eat everything, and if there is too much, which I doubt, I will take it to set with me the next day,” he said. And seeing you were about to protest, he captured your lips once more.

You let him silence you with kisses, sighing happily as you relaxed into the bed. “Okay,” you mumbled.

He laughed, “Sweet, pregnant, and less sassy. Should we have a few more babies are bagel bite?” He teased.

“Maybe if you can get through today without incident.”

“Rude. It will be fine, nothing will go wrong.”

Of course, Timothee would leave you with those words and then everything would go wrong. The girls were upset with each other. Not a fan that they couldn’t stay home with their mother and were both complaining of hunger all before they could turn the block away from the house.

“Darlings darlings, please settle down. I know you want to be home with Mommy, but remember she is working hard to make Bagel bite and needs rest and some quiet time.”

“We can be quiet, papa. We know how to take care of Mommy,” Elle huffed.

“Yeah, we are quiet all the time, we aren’t loud. Your loud,” Lena added.

Timmy sighed, leaning down to look both his girls in the eye. “Hey, I understand you both are upset. I know you're having a bad day, but don’t take it out on me or each other. I know you both love your Mommy but she just needs some Mommy time. And we will have fun today.  I only have to shoot for a little bit and then we can go do something fun, Okay?” He said patiently, cupping the back of both of their heads.

“Can we get food first, papa,” Lena asked.

“Yeah, I’m hungry,” her sister echoed.

“I know you both are. We are going to get some breakfast burritos on the way and then I’ll take you to my dressing room and we can eat. Sounds good?”

They smiled nodding excitedly.

“I want a bacon one and pepper one,” Elle said, taking his hand.

“I want just eggs and mushies,” Lena said taking his other one.

“Both of those sound amazing,” He said, squeezing their little hands and being on their way.

By the time they arrived, the girls were back to being in a sour mood. Timothee sighed as he opened his trailer door and ushered in his daughters. He had a bag full of juice boxes and things to keep them busy. He quickly gave them both an apple juice and sat on the sofa with them.

“Okay so we can eat in here and then you two can come to watch Papa work, won’t that be fun?”

“That doesn’t sound like fun,” Elle said.

“Why not?” He frowned.

“Because work is boring.”

“Not the type Papa and Mommy do. You guys had fun when you went to work with Mommy, right? Mine is fun too.”

“If you say so,” Lena huffed.

After eating Timmy took them to get his hair and make-up done and then sat them up behind the camera crew with snacks, books, and his phone.

“Okay, Papa, will just be over there. Okay. And Dick will be here if you guys need anything, okay?” He said to them, making sure they were paying attention. Dick was his PA and he was more than happy to watch the girls while Timmy filmed a scene.

“We know Papa. You told us five times,” Elle laughed.

“We know Dick, Papa. He really nice to us and brought me a stuffed chick for my birthday last year,” Elle added.

Timmy laughed, kissing their forehead. “ I just wanted to make sure and remind you both. Love you both and behave yourselves,” he said.

“We will,”  they replied together.

Kissing their noses he laughed as they giggled and went to stand on his marker for the scene. He was lucky he only had a few scenes for his Chanel ad left. He knew they would be good but only for so long until they are bored.

“Woo, Go Papa,” They cheered when he finished the last scene along with the rest of the crew. He laughed, bowing and thanking everyone for their time and how much he appreciate each of them and their hard work.

He walked over to his girls, getting on his knees to hug them both. “Mes poissons Thank you for all the cheers, I love it. I worked extra hard because I knew you two would be very hard on Papa if he missed up.”

“You were amazing, Papa. The best,” Elle said, kissing his cheek.

“My favorite,” Lena added, kissing his other cheek.

“I am happy to hear that. Now how about we go to my trailer and let Papa get changed and then we can decide where we are going to go?”

“I want to get nuggets and go to the park,” Lena said.

“No. I want a burger and to go to the movies. I want to see The Little Mermaid,” Elle said.

“We already saw the movie,” Lena frowned.

“So.”

Timmy just sighed, gathering all their things and walking back to his trailer. He changed quickly as he listened to them bicker back and forth for a few minutes. He was just finishing buttoning his shirt when there was a knock on the door.

“Hey Hey, stop it right now. Or we will go home,” he said, making them shut their mouths instantly.  Opening the door he saw the director and he was asking for a word, nodding Timmy asked for a minute before turning to his daughters.

“I need to have an adult talk outside for a few minutes. Can you two sit here and read for a moment while I stand outside?” He asked, grabbing the bag and passing it to them.

They glared at each other before nodding at him.

“Words, Mes poisson , words,” he prompted.

“Yes papa,” they mumbled.

“Okay, I just need a few minutes, if you need anything open this door.”

They mumbled again and he watched them for a few seconds before he walked out of the trailer. He apologized for the wait and spoke for a few minutes about the shoot and the schedule for a meeting about a film.

His phone rang as he was about to walk into the trailer and smiled when he saw it was you.

“Hi, Bunny. How are you? How is the little one?”

You yawned. “We are good. We ventured out of the house.

“What? You left? Why is something wrong? Are you going to the doctor? Are you already there?”

‘Timothee Hal Chalamet. Calm down, I just said we are fine. I wanted to go for a walk and then I decided to go get my nails done and maybe my toes. I feel really good.”

“That is a relief, Bunny. I am glad you are feeling better. You’ve been miserable for days.”

“You’ve been miserable, I’ve been slightly less.”

“Apples and oranges,” he shrugged.

“I can’t even see you and I know you shrugged. You worry too much. Maybe you should take a relaxing day for yourself.”

“I relax better when I am home with all of you.”

“That can’t be true.”

“It is. A nice movie day on the sofa with snacks, pajamas, and my favorite girls.”

“So sappy, Chalamet,” you said sniffling.

“I’m sappy and you are crying because of it, bunny,” he said, smugly.

“No one is crying, shut up,” you argued, causing Timmy to laugh. “Where are the girls how is everything, no accidents?”

“They are good, a bit moody today, but fine. They are in my trailer right now, no accidents.”

“You left them alone?”

“I am standing right outside and have never left.”

“You are asking for trouble.”

“There is no trouble, don’t worry. Enjoy your day and I’ll see you back at home later. I love you.”

“I always worry, but I love you too and will see you later. Give my love to the girls.”

A crash and then a cry startled Timmy and his eyes widened. “Okay, I will bye, Bunny,” he said quickly ending the call and running into this trailer.

He froze the moment he saw his daughters. Elle was on the floor sobbing and Lena standing on the sofa sobbing as well. A pair of scissors on the table and clumps of brown curly hair on the ground.

Upon seeing their father, both girls ran to him and hugged his legs sobbing and shouting about what happened to each other. He could barely understand them, Lena speaking French quickly and Elle sobbing too hard to make out what language she was speaking in.

Timmy moved to sit on the ground and hugged both of them to his chest, rubbing their back trying to get them to calm down enough to speak. “Hey, hey, Papa here, it’s okay. Deep breath my loves. Shush shush,” he mumbled into their forehead.

He looked around the trailer and he knew you were going to kill him. He sighed closing his eyes for a moment. He had no one to blame but himself, but right now what was important was his girls.

“What happened?” He asked once they were done sobbing and just sniffling.

“I got gum in my hair,” Lena said.

“And I tried to help her and I saw the scissors and decided to cut it out,” Elle added.

“But she cut too much and ruined my hair.”

“And I felt bad and told her she could cut my hair to be even.”

“But I cut too much too and now we both are bald.”

They both started to cry again, but Timmy was quick to cup their cheeks. “You are not bald. Hey it’s just a hair, Papa cut his hair a few months ago, remember, it’s not bad.”

“We look horrible, papa,” Elle cried.

“My little angles could never look horrible. You guys just messed it up a bit, but why didn’t you come to tell me? You know you are not allowed to use grown-up scissors without me or Mommy.

“I thought I could do it on my own. I’m sorry, Papa. Don’t be mad.”

“I am not mad. But we talk about safety all the time and you have to listen to me because things like this happen,” he said. “How did you end up on the floor, Brielle?”

“I fell,”

“Why?” He asked.

“Because I was standing on the sofa.”

“Which you are not supposed to do.”

“Yeah.”

Timmy sighed again getting to his feet. He put the girls down and stared at them. “We are going to go fix your hair and go home.”

“But the park”

“The Movies.”

“No buts. We are going home, you both did something dangerous and didn’t come to me when you needed help. So we are going to go home instead of doing something else.”

They nodded sadly and it hurt his heart, but he couldn’t always be the fun parent. They needed balance.  He cleaned his trailer with the girls and then called to see if his hair stylist was available or knew a place to take his daughters.

Lucky was on his side and within half an hour he was sitting his daughters down in salon chairs.  They were still pouting and quiet and he sighed grabbing a little magazine for them to look at hairstyles.

“So my loves what do you want to do with your hair? Hmm something crazy, just cut it all off or maybe get extensions to your feet?” He teased causing them both to crack smiles.

“Ah there are the beautiful smiles I love much,” he said pinching their cheeks. Causing them to laugh more and push his hands away. Timmy kissed their cheeks before sitting back in a chair next to them.

“So my loves, what are you guys going to get done? You’ll need a little trim to even your hair out but you two can get whatever style you would like,” he said. The girls looked at each other for a moment before turning back to Timothee. “We want it to be a surprise,” Lena said, and Elle nodded in agreement.

“Okay, don’t get anything too crazy. No hair dye today we will wait for another time for that,” He said, kissing their forehead again before moving to the waiting area. His leg bounced the whole time as they got their hair done. Worried about your reaction when you see them? He doesn’t want you to be angry with them, him, or work yourself up too much while you are pregnant.

As if you knew he was thinking about you, you called him. Timmy chuckled softly, answering the phone. “Hey, bunny.”

“Where are you guys? I am almost home. I’m hungry and I miss you all,” you complained.

“So Bunny. My sweet lovely bunny, who I love so muc-

“Oh, what the hell did you do, Chalamet?”

“I am at the salon right now with the girls. There was a very very small incident. Nothing horrible, no one is hurt. But the girls decided to give each other a haircut and it went wrong. Gum, tears, but it’s getting fixed.”

“What the hell? Where were you during this haircutting and gum? What? Timothee Chalamet you don’t get to say that casually.”

Timothee winced. “Bunny. I’m sorry. I was just outside the door. I should have checked the room before leaving it. They aren’t hurt. Lena got gum in her hair and Elle tried to help. I talked to them about using scissors  and  not getting help, but I know I am just a much to blame.”

You were quiet for a moment as you arrived home, tossing your keys on the counter and sitting on the sofa. “I’m glad no one is hurt. I’m upset you left them alone, but I know that could have happened at home with either of us.”

“So you aren’t going to yell at me?”

“Well that depends on how bad their hair looks when they get home,” you said,

Timmy groaned. “They are your children, they will look beautiful, bunny.”

“I know that, but don’t try to butter me up. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Yes, bunny. I’m going to take the girls for some lunch, have you eaten?”

“Yes, Bagel bite and I had burgers and fries. I’m gonna take a nap, so no rush.”

“Do you want me to get dinner or order it once we are all home?”

“Yeah, wait until later on. I think I am in the mood for Chinese, but who knows after my nap.”

Timmy smiled, “Okay my love, I’ll see you when I get home, love you.”

“Love you too, Chalamet, but if the girls’ hair is awful, I will divorce you,” you said before hanging up the phone.

“Papa, Papa, look at our hair,” Elle said a few minutes later, coming around the corner holding her sister’s hand.

Timmy’s smile widened when he saw his daughters, their brown hair was shorter but styled with braids until two curly ponytails were at the base of their necks. “Oh, my goodness. You two look so adorable. Wait let me get a picture,” He said switching to his camera and taking pictures of hair.  “Turn around and let me get a picture of the back. So beautiful Mes poisson .”

For once the girls were fine with him taking pictures and smiled. They turned around and posed for his pictures. “I love my hair, papa,” Lena said.

“I feel like a princess. I can’t wait to get home and put on my crown,” Elle said.

“You both are my little princesses every day, but I am glad that you like your hair. Now let’s get some lunch and then go see Mommy.”

“Burgers.”

“Nuggets.”

“We will go somewhere that has both, now say thank you to the nice ladies for doing your hair.”

After thanking the ladies and leaving. Timmy took the girls to lunch and took a few more pictures of their hair. They happily eat and soaked up his compliments and skipped home when they left.

The moment Timmy unlocked the door the girls ran into the house in search of you. “Mommy, We are back.” They sang loudly, dancing around with each other.

“Girls, I think Mommy is sleeping, don’t be so loud,” Timmy said, closing the door behind them.

“But we want to show her our hair.”

“Yeah, she will love it.”

“ I know but  you can show her when she wakes up.”

“I am up,” you said, waddling into the living room, smiling warmly at your girls.

“Mommy,” they shouted running over to you, “Look out our hair. One of Papa’s friends did it for us, look look. They cut it and give us cute braids, look,” They shouted and jumped up and down in front of you.

You laughed and moved to the sofa as you listen to them talk animatedly about their hair. You listen happily, kissing their forehead as they spun in circles to make sure you saw every angle.

“They even let me take a bunch of photos of their hair.” Timmy laughed sitting next to you. He kissed your lips and then he kissed your growing stomach.

“You two look so wonderful. It makes you both even more beautiful. So adorable I could just eat you both up,” you teased tickling them. They giggled and squirmed until you let them go.

“We are going to get our crowns on because we are princesses,” Elle said, taking her sister's hand and running off.

“Walk, darlings,” you shouted after them. Then you turned to Timmy crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. He groaned, throwing himself back into the sofa.

“Bunny, don’t be upset,” he whined. “They look adorable. And you, my love, are glowing, so beautiful. And your nails too,” He said, leaning his head on your shoulder and pressing kisses along your neck.

You laughed pushing his hand off your shoulder. “I am just teasing, but you didn’t get to be all adorable and ruin things. The girls’ hair is adorable and they are happy. And I had a good day.  All three of you are too adorable to be mad at.”

Timmy grinned, pulling you into his lap, and kissing all over your face. You playfully groaned trying to push him away, but he didn’t let you, and just kissed you more. “I love you bunny, my sweet love. My soulmate. I’ll have to be adorable more often so you won’t be mad.”

“You are annoying,” you teased.

“Yeah yeah, but you love me.”

“Sometimes.”

Timmy kissed your lips softly and slowly until you melted in your hold. He pulled away. “Sometimes?” He repeated.

You pressed your lips to his lips for a quick second. “I love you, Chalamet, all the time.”

“Should I record that for next time you deny it?”

“Ah, you ruined a good moment,” you complained trying to get off his lap but he held your hips.

“Not so far, I want to talk to my baby,” he said.

“We are talking.”

Timothee laughed, “I meant my little bagel bite, but happy you admitted you are my baby.”

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[kteezy997]

6 Months- Part Twelve, Epilogue//t.c.

Warnings: okay this one just gets filthy, like tit sucking, female receiving oral sex, missionary, doggy, very possessive Timmy, light breeding kink, breast milk kink? Idk what you’d call it really, oh yeah and there’s cursing, and a cumshot

A/N: This is mostly sex I hope no one is disappointed.

18+ readers only, please

Two Months Later…

Hayden called Cameron to apologize for his behavior when they met for lunch. He sounded sincere, and genuinely embarrassed by the way he acted. He even told her that he was monitoring his drinking and that he was happy for her in her new relationship. To her, he seemed to be doing a lot better.

Cam responded by inviting Hayden for dinner one night, after getting Timmy’s approval. She didn’t need Timmy’s permission for anything, of course, but she didn’t want to make her boyfriend uncomfortable in any way, especially in his own home.

She was thrilled that Timmy welcomed the idea, because she had a new idea in mind.

Hayden, like Timmy, was a good guy with some emotional issues that he was working on. He had the potential to be a great partner for someone. And Cam had someone in mind for Hayden: her agent, Darcy.

Darcy had met Hayden a few times through working with Cameron. She agreed with Cam that Hayden was more like a good friend to her, rather than a lover. Cam had no qualms about setting them up. She would have bet money that they would be compatible.

Cam decided to invite Nova over for dinner too, so it didn’t seem too much like a set-up. But that didn’t really matter because when Hayden came in, he saw Darcy and they locked eyes, it was like instant chemistry. They smiled at each other, exchanging kind hellos. Everyone in the room could feel it, their connection. Cam was satisified.

Even Timmy was impressed by Cam’s matchmaking skills, “I gotta admit it babe, you’re kind of a genius.”

She shrugged and added a little smirk, “I just knew that they would hit it off tonight. I’m so glad that Hayden is doing better and doesn’t hate us anymore.”

“Yeah, I’m glad he came around too. He’s not a bad guy. I'm sure he was just hurt, but that's in the past now."

A little while later, Timmy got settled in bed, and waited for Cam. As she was coming over to the bed, he said, "So, you promised that you'd tell me what the book is about tonight. Spill it, Reese." he smirked.

Cam sighed with a blush, "Okay, here goes: it's inspired by us."

Timmy was taken aback. "How?"

"Very loosely, it's based on our story. Me and you. But he is a mafia boss and she is an aspiring fashion designer. He kidnaps her and gives her six months to fall in love with him."

"Oh, shit." Timmy didn't know what to say. He felt kind of guilty. The bad feelings that he wished away came crawling in, but Cam brought him back.

"You know, it's kind of funny to think of how scared I was in the beginning, and how much I hated you. That was only four months ago, but now I feel like I've known you all my life."

"I only hoped that we would be like this, I feel like you're my soulmate, Cam. I want to do everything in life with you. But I'm sorry for how our story started."

"Don't apologize for it anymore." she leaned over the bed, cupping his face in her hands, "I'm here with you, there is nowhere that I would rather be." She then kissed his lips. When she pulled away from the kiss, she said, "I have the first draft on my phone, want me to read something to you?"

"Yes, please." he implored her.

......

Cam read a bit of her smut from her unpublished book, Six Months, to Timmy. "'Don't provoke me', warned Nicholas." she read, "'I'm not used to being gentle'."

As she continued to read to him, Timmy got turned on. He started to undress himself and his girlfriend as she kept her eyes on the screen and stimulated him with her words and her voice. "I can't believe you write this stuff. You're just as perverted as me."

Cam grinned and then bit her lip as Timmy started to leave kisses on her thigh. She cleared her throat, reading on, "Sienna looked down, his cock was growing hard, but she paid his desperation no mind." Cam let out a soft moan when she felt Timmy's hands on her breasts, "She turned away from him, but he caught her aggressively by the throat." She did her best to stay focused on her words.

Timmy piped up, "So it seems that Sienna doesn't mind provoking him." he smirked up at Cam. "What happens next?" Without any warning, he latched onto her breast with his mouth.

"Fuck!" Cam whimpered, not expecting it. But she kept up the conversation, knowing that it was fueling her man's libido. "Well, he fucks her in the shower."

Timmy hummed on her tit, letting her know that he was listening. He wanted her to keep reading, all while he sucked her tits.

"Ooh, mm." she moaned as he squeezed the breast that was not occupied by his lips. He pinched the free nipple as he suckled the other. "'What are you gonna do?' Now Sienna was the one daring him. Nicholas was astonished at her disobedience, and he answered, 'I'm gonna wait until you want me, and then I'm gonna fuck you so hard, they will hear you moaning in Nevada." Timmy then bit down on her nipple. "Ahh!"

Timmy chuckled as he popped off of her tit, "You fucking whore. Stealing my line so blatantly for your book, huh?" he nestled between her legs, touching her wet pussy with his deft fingers.

Cam laughed, laying back to let him have his way with her.

"Fuck, just listening to you, I get hard. But that fact that you wrote those words makes me want to fucking impregnate you."

Cam moaned, and he slipped his fingers into her pussy, “Oh? You want me to have your babies, Timmy?”

“Fuck yes, you’re having my kids.” He pumped his fingers in and out, and rubbed her clit with his other hand.

“Mm, yes, of course as many as you want.” she rolled her hips, meeting the thrusts of his fingers.

“I’ll fill you with my cum, my love, and you’ll swell with our baby inside you. I’ll make you a mommy. I want my children to be as smart and beautiful as their mother.”

Wow, he is so into this, Cam thought. “Yes, I want that so much, baby. You know my tits will be huge when you get me pregnant, right?”

“Oh, god yes.” Timmy stopped what he was doing and leaned down, grabbing her breasts, “I want them full of milk for the baby, and for me to try, if you’ll let me?”

Cam giggled, “Okay, only if you’re such a good daddy, I’ll let you suck them for milk.” She was surprised how delighted she was at thought of her man drinking from her. “But the baby would come first.”

“Yes, I know.” He then kissed her, then he caressed her face. “I want to ask you something and you can definitely say no because it’s so fucking weird and possessive of me, but I’d like to be the only one to drink your milk from your boobs. You’d pump milk for the baby, and we’d bottle feed him or her. I just want your tits for myself.” He bit his lip, anxious for her response.

“Hmm, you are oddly possessive. But I kind of love that about you, babe.” Cam touched his cheek. “We can do that. No one has to know, it’s just for you and me. I love how much you love my boobs. It’s a way for you and I to bond too.”

“I don’t want to overstep. It’s your body. You decide what to do with it, not me. It’s just an idea.”

“No, no. It’s okay. I’m not even pregnant yet, so we don’t have to think about it right now.”

“Okay. I want you, now, Cameron.” he said plainly with a grin before he climbed over top of her to kiss her. He then backed down, burrowing between her thighs to lick her pussy.

“Mm.” Cam cried, shoving her hand in his messy hair.

Timmy lapped steadily on her clit for a moment before taking the sensitive bundle gently in his mouth and moaning, making her body vibrate.

She gasped, accidentally squeezing his head with her thighs in response.

He didn’t mind. In fact, he grabbed her thighs, locking himself between them and assaulted her clit some more, holding it in his mouth and rubbing it with his tongue.

“Yes, I’m gonna come, Timmy, don’t stop!” she shrieked, tugging on his curls with one hand and gripping the sheets with the other.

Just another minute more of his tongue fidgeting over her clit, and her knees were knocked together as she came for the first time.

Timmy came up for some air, finally. He panted as he grinned at her, pushing his curls back out of his face. He slid his cock into her before she really had the time to come down from her orgasm.

Cam writhed and arched her back as he pounded into her. His balls slapped her wetness with each thrust.

He put his hand on her, his thumb resting on her pussy and he rubbed her clit that way. His other hand snaked up her body and he squeezed her throat.

She put her hand on his wrist and they locked eyes as he choked her, all while he bucked his hips against her.

He moved his hand from her neck to her jaw, and she sucked on his thumb suggestively, moaning around his digit. Timmy pulled his cock out of her, and picked her up, turning her over with her ass up.

Cam gasped, then bit her lip as he grabbed her by the hips and stuck his cock back in her pussy. She snuggled into the pillow as he took her from behind.

Timmy thrusted hard and began to sweat. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer with his view of Cam’s ass bouncing on his waist. He kneaded the softness of her butt as he stopped moving and he smacked her cheek.

She moaned and steadied herself to back her lower half onto Timmy’s cock.

“Yes, baby. Fuck me. Fuck your future baby daddy’s cock.” He kept his hands on her, running them over her ass and hips as she gained some strength and fucked him back harder.

Cam threw her hips back hard, leaving loud smacks on Timmy.

Timmy shook his head, loving what she was doing to him.

She moaned, growing tired after a moment.

He took ahold of her hips, knowing that she was almost through. He gave her a round of steady thrusts. Gently, he tugged on her hair to raise her head up and she obliged him. He leaned forward and kissed her on the head.

Cam cooed lovingly at his sweet kiss. She whimpered as she felt his fingers on her clit, slow at first, then a little faster. He made her come just a minute later.

Timmy rolled her over, stroking his cock over her stomach.

She panted as she watched him, eager for his cum on her skin.

He groaned softly as his cock spurted out several drops of his cum onto her belly. Once he was finished, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

A/N: I may or may not have an idea for a sequel to this, if anyone would be interested?? Or should I move on to something else?

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @tchalamss @softhecreator @chalametbich

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #timothée chalamet smut #lil timmy tim

[harryforvogue]

ok this thought just came to meeee: it’s the early days of faye & harry dating and mentions that his birthday is this week and inside faye is screaming because why didn’t he tell her??? but on the outsides she’s calm and collected lol. so she bakes him a cake and maybe gets him a small gift like a sketch book/pencils or a keychain with his favorite animal or show character or of CHERRIES ?????? and she casually asks to stop by after work cause she thinks she left a hair clip at his apartment she needs but she’s actually there to spend his birthday night with him 😌

"This isn't stupid," Faye reminds herself under her breath as she enters Harry's building. "This isn't stupid. Harry is your boyfriend now. You have the right to do this. He won't mind."

Timothée is the one that answers the door. He’s holding a sketchbook in his hand, a pen tucked behind his ear that's nearly covered by his curls. “Oh. Hey!” He looks at the box of cupcakes she’s holding. “Wow. Those for me? Ha. I'm just playing."

Faye and Timmy have had the “this isn’t weird right?” talk already, so this encounter isn’t the worst. 

“Hi. Um, Harry’s here, right?”

“Yeah. He’s in his room. Should I call him out?”

“Uh. Well, I guess I probably should have texted…”

Timmy smiles knowingly. “You wanna see him? You can come in.” He then glances down at her tote bag filled with a makeup bag, extra clothes, and other things.

She scratches her wrist. “If…if that’s okay. I’d just like to let him know something.”

“It shouldn't be a problem. He doesn’t have work today. Come in.”

During the 10 seconds that Faye walks in and takes her shoes off, she asks Timmy if it’s really fine that she’s here without notice at least 3 more times. He’s gathered that she plans on staying the night. The good thing is that he seems to have an infinite amount of patience. He even takes the cupcakes and sets them in the fridge.

“This is okay, right?” she whispers as they head to the rooms.

Timothée grabs her shoulders and gives her a small shake. “Hey. You’re a strong woman, yeah? No reason to be nervous.”

Faye stands taller. “Yeah.”

“You go in there and show him who’s boss!”

“Yeah!”

“You go and break his heart and stomp on his dreams, yeah?”

“Yeah! Wait, what?”

He grins. “Are you not going to go and break up with him?”

“What? No!” She gasps. “Is that what it looks like? Why would I bring cupcakes just to break up with him?” She scrambles to take her phone out. “I should text him.”

“Nah.” He snorts and then laughs. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. Hey, you’re already here so just go in. He won’t mind.”

He heads back to his own room after giving her an encouraging thumbs up, shutting the door behind him. She walks to Harry’s room slowly, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. She knocks quietly.

Harry doesn’t come up to open the door. He just calls through it “Come in”. And so she does.

She steps in, nerves exploding in her stomach. He’s pulling a sweatshirt over his head in front of his closet when he sees her, curls wet from his shower, his eyes immediately lighting up. His laptop is on the bed and she can see he’s been answering emails. 

Harry’s face breaks out into a smile. “Faye!” He walks over to her and wraps his arms around her. “Hi.”

She hugs him back. “I hope it’s okay that I’m here.”

“Of course it is. How are you? You look great. What’s up? Everything okay? Did Timmy let you in?”

“Yeah!” After a moment of hesitation, she gives him a quick peck.

Harry gives her a pointed look. “I’m your boyfriend now, Cherry. Give me something a little better than that please.” He puts his hand on the back of her head and pulls her back in. He kisses her again, slowly. She slides her hands up his soft sweatshirt and plays with the drawstrings. “I haven’t seen you since last week so I thought I’d surprise you.”

He chuckles. “Bet you nearly chickened out a few times.”

Her shoulders fall. “You have no clue.”

Harry takes her hands and pulls her to the bed. He tugs her until she’s sitting in his lap, his arms around her waist again. “You know, given the timing, I’m suspecting this has to do with the fact that it’s my birthday.”

“What?” she says. “No. I’m only here because I forgot something.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry twirls her hair around his finger. “What did you forget?”

“My hair pin.”

“Definitely.”

She sighs, leaning into him. “Listen. You should have told me about your birthday earlier! I had zero time to get reservations for dinner anywhere, and not to mention I had work today! This isn’t fair! Now it’s 4pm and we’ve done nothing for your birthday.”

Harry’s grinning as she complains. “Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry!”

“I’m not. Birthdays don’t have to be a whole thing, you know?”

“This is our first one!”

“Faye, I really don’t think it’s that big of a deal. We can do something over the weekend together. You’re off then, right?”

“Yeah,” she grumbles.

“So there. We’ll make a day of it.”

She frowns, playing with his drawstring again. “But today’s your real birthday so we have to do something.”

“What do you have in store for me?”

“Well, I’m staying over tonight. If you’ll let me.”

Harry grins even harder. “And where are all your things? I really hope you don’t plan on using my toothbrush. You’re cute and all, but–”

She scowls. “I left my bag outside just in case you say no and kick me out and also break up with me.”

Harry throws his head back and laughs wholeheartedly. “Wow. Oh yeah, I’d totally break up with you for wanting to stay the night.”

“It was more of the whole not-letting-you-know-beforehand thing.”

“That’s what a surprise is, Faye. You know I don’t mind surprises when they have to do with you. I’d love for you to stay the night with me.”

“Good.”

His eyes sparkle when she leans down to kiss him again. He loves when she initiates the kisses, knowing how much it means to her to be confident enough to. “I also got you a present,” she mumbles against his mouth.

Harry buries his fingers in her pink hair, cradling her head as he kisses her again. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” She turns her head so he can kiss her jaw. “You didn’t give me enough time to freak out for a few days before buying you something with a leveled head, so it might not be that great of a–”

Harry cuts her off with another kiss. “I’ll love it,” he promises quietly. “Anything you give me.” He kisses the corner of her mouth. “Hey. Timothée’s going out tonight with his friends so he probably won’t be home until tomorrow. Did you plan that?”

Faye blinks. “No, but that works out very well.”

“Right.” He kisses her once more. “Faye. I’m very happy you’re here.” He kisses down her neck. She shivers, his wet curls hitting her cheek.

He flips her over, pressing her into his mattress. She laughs as he hovers above her, kissing her neck and collar, the tickling becoming too much.

When Harry’s hands start wandering under her sweater, she opens her eyes and stops him. “Wait. Can I give you the gift first? Before I chicken out?”

He pulls off. “Of course. Want me to wait here?”

“Yes, please.”

“Yeah, baby. Go on.”

Faye hurries back outside and grabs her bag, bringing it in. She carefully pulls out a wrapped gift, bringing it over to him. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed looking very deliciously disheveled.

“Just to let you know,” Harry says, “if I don’t like this gift, I’m breaking up with you.”

Faye frowns. “Not funny!”

He smiles and begins to rip the wrapping paper. Faye nervously cracks her knuckles besides him, watching his eyes wander over his gift.

“Faye,” he whispers.

It’s a photograph of them taken by one of the photographers at the first show of Faye's that Harry went to. The one where Harry confessed his love. This picture is of them on stage, Harry in his suit still holding the bouquet of carnations, his hand on Faye’s cheek. She’s on her tiptoes, the smile on her face so wide, it’s unbelievable.

He remembers exactly what he was doing – wiping the glitter off her face right before he kissed her. He recalls how she was literally bouncing with adrenaline. He had to hold her still just to kiss her properly. Harry’s heart aches.

“I only saw it a few days ago,” Faye explains nervously. “Figured it would be a great memory to frame.”

“This… this is…” He looks up at her. “Thank you. Wow. Look at us. Look at you. I loved that dress on you so much.”

“You told me you loved me for the first time. I think about it everyday, Harry. I’m so happy there’s a photo of us from that night.”

He puts the frame down and brings her back to him, hugging her tightly. “I love it.” He smiles when she relaxes into his chest at the sound of the words. “This is amazing. Thank you, Cherry. Thank you.” He kisses the top of her head. “Oh, I don’t know how I’ll ever top this. You’ve made it very difficult.”

Faye’s laughter is muffled against his sweater. “You still have time. I won’t spring anything on you like you did.”

Harry lifts her head up. “I love you,” he whispers again, bending his head to kiss her once more. “Thank you.”

She smiles. “So I guess you won’t be breaking up with me tonight?”

His shoulders shake when he laughs. His thumb brushes over her cheek like in the photo. “No, baby. Not ever.”

#squidward holding his music sheet meme #that's how i feel #BUT THIS HAS BEEN MY FAVE ONE TO WRITE SO FAR!!! #harry and faye #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #let it be known that harryforvogue does indeed write still

[peppered-moths]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

Martyn is humming something behind him, a jaunty, cheerful tune that contrasts sharply with the fact that Scott knows he's sharpening his sword. He can hear that too, the soft scrrrape of metal on stone that makes his nerves stand on end involuntarily. He shakes his head, letting the sounds fade into the background of the waves, and returns to organizing the chests.

It's... nice, actually. To just be here in the moment, with Martyn only a few feet away. To simply exist in each other's space. They get this time every week, of course, six days of it, but six days doesn't seem like all that much when death is waiting on the horizon.

And they have to be careful. Attachments are dangerous. On Fridays, they are allies, nothing more. Today, they are more, but they can't give anyone even the slightest hint, for fear of that being used against them.

Scott blinks, realizing his hands have stopped moving, no longer at the monotonous task of sorting wood. Martyn has stopped humming. The small fins behind his ears twitch in confusion.

"Martyn?" He turns, peering through the slats of the walls. The Coral Isles are silent and empty, just grass waving in the wind.

Scott's not worried. Martyn can handle himself, and he can certainly hold down the fort. He just wishes- why didn't Martyn say anything? Where had he gone? He's not worried.

Okay, fine. He's a little worried. It's not like his partner to walk off without saying anything at all. Scott can't go looking for him- the Isles can't be left undefended, especially with tensions at an all-time high. There's nothing he can do but wait for Martyn to come back (what if he doesn't? what if he's decided you're too much of a concern and left to preserve his own life-) and he will come back, Scott's sure of it. He'll just ask then. The sun is high in the sky; Martyn will be back by the time it sets.

He can keep himself busy until then.

----

It is midnight when Scott hears a splash. He's lying on the floor of the beach house, staring up at the sky. No, he hasn't been crying. The sound makes him bolt upright, one hand reaching for the leather-wrapped hilt of his sword.

Martyn stops halfway up the stairs, hands held up in surrender. His eyes are wide and washed out in the pale moonlight. He has no armor on.

Scott moves faster than he ever thought he could. His blade is pointed at Martyn's chest in an instant. He knows- he knows he's being irrational. He doesn't know what to think. He doesn't know what else to do.

"Where," he rasps, trying not to let his voice wobble, "have you been?"

"Hey, Scott." Martyn laughs breathlessly, eyes fixed on the sword wavering in front of him. "Um."

"Answer. The. Question," he grits. He searches Martyn's face for anything, anything that betrays even a hint of deceit. Nothing. (Well, he's always been a good liar, hasn't he?)

"I was talking to the Bad Boys. Time got away from me." Martyn shrugs, eerily calm, even as the blade shivers closer to his throat. Scott stares at him, mind spinning. He could be lying.

"Prove it."

Martyn moves slowly, telegraphing his movements to Scott as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out- a pair of sunglasses.

"I stole these from Timmy before I left. It'll be hours before he notices they're gone." He smiles carefully, cautiously, like he's scared. Of Scott. Scared. Of him.

The sword clatters to the ground, and he crumples in on himself, ashamed and furious and guilty all at once. Of course. Scott was- he's overreacting, he couldn't even trust his own partner.

"Oh- hey, hey, hey. Scott. Scott." Martyn steps forwards, hands settling lightly on his shoulders. Scott stares at the ground. I would have killed him. I would have-

"I'm sorry, oh god, no, I'm so sorry, I didn't-" He can't finish a sentence, stumbling over himself. He scrapes at the scales on his face, a nervous habit he's picked up recently that is coming back to bite him.

Martyn grabs his wrists. "Scott. Listen to me." He swallows. Looks up into Martyn's eyes, red, red, red.

"Can you breathe for me?" Scott does his best, but it feels like he's just run a race. That's hyperventilating, he remembers distantly. Eventually, his heart slows to a more normal pace, and he can hear Martyn more clearly through the ringing in his ears.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. Everything's fine, see?" Martyn's humming, Scott realizes. It's soothing, as it always is.

"I'm sorry," he manages, because he has to say it. He has to, even if Martyn decides to leave. He has to know.

"I know, anemone. It's okay. We're okay."

"How is this okay?" Scott cries. He backs away. His hands are shaking. "I just- I just threatened you, Martyn. I can't-"

"Scott." He stops, stares at the blond man. He doesn't look angry. Scott doesn't understand.

"I forgive you," Martyn continues, softly. "Like you forgave me when I killed you-"

"I asked you to!"

"-and I know," he continues determinedly, "I know. You're scared. I'm sorry. For not telling you where I was going." Scott shakes his head. No. Martyn shouldn't be apologizing. This is Scott's fault. He takes a step closer.

"I- don't..." His voice fails. He stands there, mute.

Martyn approaches, carefully, as if not to startle him. He cradles Scott's face in his hands, gently forcing him to look into his eyes.

"I don't think you would ever hurt me," he says simply. Like he hasn't sent the world tumbling down around Scott's shoulders. Like he's not a damn fool.

"You're an idiot." Scott's crying again. He buries his head in Martyn's shoulder, and the other man pulls him closer. "Why are you so sappy? We're supposed to be fighting!"

Martyn chuckles. "Guess I didn't get the memo."

They stand there in silence for a moment. Scott thinks, vaguely, that he should pick up his sword, put it away. He doesn't want to move.

Finally, he lifts his head to look Martyn in the eyes again. He raises an eyebrow. Scott has to tell him. He has to get it all out, before he gives up or chickens out.

"I don't want to miss you before we die." Scott takes a deep breath. "I don't want- I don't want to waste the time we have left." The time I have left. He doesn't intend to let Martyn die first. At any cost.

"Never." Martyn promises immediately. It sounds like a vow in his mouth. Til death do us part.

"I love you," Scott says. There's no sense of immediate regret (which is good, at least he means it), but he still can't stop shaking. He leans farther into Martyn, who's still with shock.

Finally, he laughs, a strained, incredulous thing. "You really do pick the worst times to say things."

"Say it back," Scott mumbles. Martyn relaxes into him, hands curling into his shirt.

"I love you too, Scott."

#majorwood #scott smajor #smajor1995 #martyn inthelittlewood #inthelittlewood #trafficshipping #limited life smp #traffic smp #cw: panic attack #i just think that martyn calling scott anemone is cute #and also has lore i won't talk about in tags #(hint hint send me an ask /hj /nf)

[midheavenastrology]

✿✿✿TIMOTHEE CHALAMET’S CHART y’all ✿✿✿

♛ Timothee chalamalabingbong is a Capricorn sun🐐Pisces moon 🧜🏼‍♂️ and Virgo rising🧝

♛Capricorn suns are one of the three most misunderstood signs (the other two being Scorpio and Pisces) ☹︎☹︎☹︎Nobody gets us fully..as a Capricorn sun myself, I feel like half of the astrology community gets us completely wrong. Typical pop astrology will say we’re workaholic bores that love following rules and having structure, but that’s so far from the truth.

♛ Every caprisun I’ve met is a complete rebel- they actually hate rules. They also hate work unless the work gives them complete autonomy to be who they want to be. One thing pop astrology does get right is that we have a wicked sense of humor. It’s the Saturn influence- we’ve been through it and lived to tell the tale with a sarcastic grin on our face. (Sorry y’all had to go on a misunderstood Capricorn rant lol)

♛Timmy is known for his sense of humor- he’s a little sarcastic but never mean. He knows to take things seriously but never too serious. He’s also a bit of a rebel- and this probably comes with his Venus in Aquarius as well, but he goes against the grain of Hollywood norm. He doesn’t really do celebrity BS and actually takes time and effort to get to know his fans on a real person basis 🙇‍♀️

♛ Timmy’s pisces moon is this face 🥺🥺🥺 his little heart is probably so lost and so sad. He probably needs a lot of alone time to recuperate from social settings. Pisces absorbs alllll the energy and being his moon sign, it means he probably picks up on everyone’s emotions all the time. It’s exhausting. Y’all paparazzis give him some heckin space geez. His emotions are probably like the tides of the ocean, ebbing and flowing. Pisces moons are old souls with huge hearts.☆☆☆

♛ Y’all wanna know why Timmy talks so fast and eloquently ? It’s prob his virgo influence as a Virgo rising. The mercurial influence of Virgo makes him talk faster, yet still in full sentences with big words. Virgo is smart- Virgo catches all the details. His mind probably moves a mile a minute and catches all the nuances of what is and isn’t being said. It’s also on his ascendant so it’s how he presents himself to the public (like interviews and screening q+a) ✪︎︎✪︎︎✪︎︎

♛ He has as 5th house stellium (as mentioned in my previous post) His sun, mars, Mercury, Uranus, Neptune are all in the 5th house, as well as his vertex and juno. From a logical standpoint, this shows why he is an actor and has always wanted to be an actor. In an interview he was asked what he would do if he wasn’t acting and he promptly answered “nothing..unemployed” With all those planets in the 5th house of the sun, the house of Leo- his creativity must be expressed outwardly. ❤︎❤︎❤︎

♛ He also has vertex there, which is a super fated point in astrology. Your vertex house and sign placement shows you where fate seems to shine upon you. It doesn’t denote that it’s necessarily good or bad, just that destiny comes swooping in. Hence he could have been fated to become an actor. ⚓︎⚓︎⚓︎

I’m so curious if timmy ever got a chart reading and was like “wow, of course I’m an actor lol” ☺︎☺︎☺︎

♛ He has Venus in Aquarius in the 6th house of service and work. This means that he loves working on projects and embodying characters that are a little offbeat, a little Uranian in nature- for ex: his most recent role as Lee, a cannibal lover in “Bones and All”.♁♁♪♁♁♪

♛He also might find love while at work or in service to others- he tends to choose partners that are somewhat unique in their own right- maybe they dress kinda off the cuff or they’re not the typical Hollywood type. 𓆈𓆈𓆈

♛6th house is mentors as well and I’ve noticed Timmy has a lot of Aquarius sun people he looks up to, like Kid Cudi and The Weeknd. Also his older sister is an Aquarius and he really admires/looks up to her 🥲

♛He has his moon in Pisces and Saturn in pisces in the 7th house- to me this hints at cougar energy. Remember when he had that fling with Eiza Gonzalez (who btw is an Aquarius (his Venus in aqua)) and she’s 5 years his senior. ☻☻☻

♛Saturn isn’t just about restrictions or limitations-although with someone who natally has Saturn in the 7th as well and am fully aware of how Saturn 🪐 can really put boundaries on ur love life. Lol✞✞✞But it also means elder energy, someone older than you (also this doesn’t mean older physically per se, it could also mean a 23 year old with elder energy btw) On top of that he has the moon in Pisces in the 7th house as well- which in itself is old soul energy. ❁❁❁

♛Timmy is an old soul for sure and with Saturn in Pisces in his 7th house, there’s a chance he might end up with an older, wiser spouse who might be very spiritual in nature.

♛His south node is in Aries in the 8th house and his north node in Libra in the 2nd house. Aries south node in the 8th is soooo intense. It’s mars energy in a Martian house. I imagine he was a warrior or prince to a royal command, a little like his character in Dune, Paul Atreides. 8th house is about other peoples resources and deeply intimate, unbreakable bonds. His Arian qualities of independence and self identity were bound to someone else’s resource. Perhaps so much that he wasn’t allowed the freedom to be himself or be with who he wanted to be with. There was a lack of balance ⚖️ in his self-identity versus his identity that was bound to someone else. ✡︎✡︎✡︎

♛ They say that a lot of times we are attracted to what we’re familiar with, so at times in life we replay what we were in a past life. I have this theory that actors are actually playing versions of themselves in past lives (take this with a grain of salt..lol, like obviously Evan Peters wasn’t Jeffery Dahmer in a past life..but he could’ve been a cop chasing a serial killer 🤷‍♀️) so who knows maybe Timmy was a prince on another planet somewhere in time or a cannibal drifter on the fringes of society. If you believe in parallel lives and past lives- I believe this is all possible. 𓅓𓅓𓅓

♛His Chiron is in Libra in the 2nd house- He has a wound when it comes to seeing his worth:value in intimate partnerships. It’s about balancing his own values with that of the other and creating safe boundaries of what is his and what is ours. Obvi this might be tough for him because he’s a Pisces moon and Pisces energy just wants to give give give like the martyr that they are, but in order for him to align with a balanced partnership, he must learn to let go of tendencies of self sacrifice.☔︎☔︎☔︎

♛He has his Jupiter and Pluto in the 4th house in Sagittarius: he probably had a rather expansive home life - he did say he would spend summers in the south of France with his family. I don’t think it’s really my place to talk about his Pluto in the 4th, but alls I’ll say is it’s a dark placement with lots of power struggles in the home :/ ༄༄༄

✧✧✧ wow that got long y’all, I didn’t even get to talk about aspects lol but yah Timmy is def a different kinda actor/celebrity. He was born to shine, but he does it with so much grace/humbleness◈◈◈hope y’all enjoyed✩✩✩

#tumblr astrology #astrology #zodiac #capricorn #astrology observations #celebrity astrology #hot celebs #timothee chalamet #pisces moon #virgo rising #5th house #stellium #7th house #venus in aquarius #6th house #celebrity #bones and all

[simple-seranade]

Achilles Come Down

Jimmy walks into the Double Life series expecting and hoping it will be his last.

Of course, the universe has never let him get what he wants, so why should this time be different?

(Though maybe, just maybe, he can forgive the universe just this once, now that he has another day to do so.)

OK SO LOTS OF TRIGGERS HERE

TW: suicidal thoughts, near suicide attempt, self harm, MAJOR self-hate and self deprecation, dissociation, death. this is a heavy one, guys

DISCLAIMER: this is about the characters, not the CCs. I am fully aware that all the jokes are in good fun and that Jimmy is fine with it. I just wanted to make c!Jimmy sad and then give him comfort.

that being said, enjoy 6k words of ranchers hurt/comfort!

———*———

Jimmy knows the feeling of death.

The temporary jolt of the infinite respawn, the burning phantom pain of losing a life, the cold grasp of the Void permeating down to the bone and leeching every living spark in your body as you die for the final time- he’s felt it all, more than once, more than most ever have or will or should. He’d say he regards death as a good friend, if it weren’t for the fact that he was fighting it with every fiber of his being in that space below life, where there was nothing but pure nothingness in every direction, surrounding him, choking the air out of his lungs while his heart didn’t beat in his chest and his blood didn’t course through his veins-

Not the point. That’s not the point.

The point is, Jimmy is familiar with death. He’s spent more time dead than some of the new players have spent alive.

The point is, each time he’s yanked back to the realm of the living from the endless darkness, he’s met with teasing ridicule towards his downfall, mocking laughs directed at his hopes that things would be different.

The point is, Jimmy doesn’t think he can do this anymore.

A circlet burning upon a sacrificial altar, offering up his soul to one that didn’t exist, didn’t care, didn’t bless. An arrow through the chest, leaving the person he cared about alone. A fireball hitting him and setting every inch of him aflame, because his life wasn’t hell enough, he had to actually die in it. Shattered bones from the cold, unforgiving dirt as his brother hit him off of a building.

Those were just the permanent deaths. That doesn’t count for the countless burning pains and scars that are only there as a tapestry to his failure. That doesn’t count for all the times he’s picked a fight he couldn’t win and died more from the embarrassment than the actual pain. That doesn’t count the agony that was stopping the void from disintegrating him piece by piece as he waited for the others to die in the games, all alone and isolated, because right then Death only had one focus and one alone, one meal to dine upon. That doesn’t count for the thousand little deaths he feels he’s died each day as they joke about poor Tim, worthless Tim, cursed Tim, always Timmy, never Jimmy-

He’s tired. He’s sick and he’s tired and he’s done. 

He’s been done for a while, actually. A few too many careless deaths that may have not been so careless, no matter how many times he respawned. A few hearts gone not by fall or mob, but by human sword, his own or others. A few times where all he can do is sob and yank on his hair as a million words and thoughts run through his head, all the laughter just too loud, please, anyone, make it stop-

He sort of blames the others, even though he tries not to. After all, what right does he have to be mad at them when he’s the one screwing up? 

A much larger part of him wonders what right they have to laugh at him, to kick him while he’s down, because they’re his best friends, his brother, they should be able to tell but they’re too busy in their own stupid heads.

He doesn’t tell them, no matter how many times they mock him. It’s in good fun, he knows. They don’t know what they’re doing. They don’t realize they’re big contributors to the growing ache in his chest.

It doesn’t make it hurt any less. It doesn’t make him love them any less either.

So, when he gets a letter from his brother, he reads it as he always does. Grian’s invited him to another life series, one with a surprise twist Jimmy barely thinks to ponder on as he reads the rest of the information.

It still has the life system, still will be treated as a hardcore world. It will still have the permadeath mechanic, at least while the game continues.

The night he receives the invitation is the night he makes the plan. He barely realizes he’s doing it until all the steps are laid nearly out in front of him in a way he can’t refuse. It’s simple, foolproof.

Step one: Die.

Find some mobs too early on and try to fight them, purposefully plant a trap that will blow up in his face, accidentally miss his MLG water save, antagonize the red lives assuming he doesn’t reach that status first, fall in lava, let a warden’s scream shatter him- there’s no shortage of ways to accomplish it. Whatever it takes to run through all three lives (or whatever number Grian gives them this time around). 

Step Two: Let the void take him.

Players aren’t really meant to permadie. The void eats them slowly, relishing in every dissipated particle and line of code. There’s plenty of time to grasp at the strands of life available, and respawns rarely take more than a few seconds, let alone enough time for a player to be fully consumed. Single player hardcore worlds will send the player back to the Hub after only half a minute, barely any void attached, and multiplayer hardcore servers usually do the same, or at least grant the mercy of spectator mode to allow those fallen to observe their friends. 

The Life series were… different.

When he had died for the final time in Third Life, he expected to be in the void for only a few moments before the Spectate button would appear and he would watch the world continue as a ghost of his former self. He sat in the void for five seconds. 

Then ten seconds.

Thirty seconds.

A minute.

An hour.

A day.

A week.

All with the void attempting to destroy the very essence of his being, all while using every bit of strength to stop the deterioration before someone else joined him. Then it lessened, and by the time the majority of the players joined him, it was barely noticeable.

Grian apologized profusely after the game. He said he didn’t know what happened- at least, he told everyone else that. To Jimmy and Martyn, he confided the real reason the void was the way it was, why the first to fall came so close to actually dying.

If Jimmy ever sees a Watcher, he’s going to punch them in the face.

His brother thought he had fixed it the second game. The others were told of the dangers, all accepting that it could happen. Jimmy trusted his older brother. Then Jimmy fell back into the void, at least this time prepared to fight tooth and nail against the pull of nothingness.

It only stood to reason that it would happen again. That the Watchers would make it so Jimmy would have to use any energy he had left to survive, all for their amusement.

Unfortunately for them, Jimmy doesn’t plan on fighting it.

Then he will get rest.

Then he will be free from all the laughs and jokes at his expense.

No more Timmy.

No more Jimmy.

As he stands in the circle with the others, waiting on the edge of their podiums for Grian to explain the world, a sense of calm he’s rarely felt during these washes over him. After all, he knows how this will end for him. There’s no question as to if he’ll be the first to go, because he will.

And he will relish in it, before finally being no more.

Grian claps his hands, pulling Jimmy out of the fathoms of his thoughts. “Alright, guys, thank you for joining us in a third go around of the Life Series! Welcome to Double Life, as you all saw on your invites. Now, as you also saw, there’s a surprise mechanic this time around!”

“Is it called ‘Scar keeps his shirt on’? We haven’t seen that one yet!” Ren calls out, causing laughter to spread amongst the group. Jimmy joins them, though the sound seems odd in his ears. Heavy.

“Unfortunately, Ren, I haven’t figured out how to code that, otherwise I would in a heartbeat.” Grian replies, fighting to keep a smile off of his face. Scar simply sticks his tongue out at the shorter man. “No, the surprise mechanic is…. imaginary drumroll… soulmates!”

Jimmy’s world crashes out from under him, the supports holding him up weathering under the force of a thousand invisible unchangeable years of pain. 

Questions he can barely understand swell in the air, Grian barely managing to bring them to a quiet lull to answer them. “Soulmates will be randomly assigned here in a few minutes. You both will share a health bar- when one of you takes damage, so will the other, and when one of you dies, so will your soulmate. We have a few rules to stop anything from going wrong with the code-“

The rest of the words are a blur in Jimmy’s mind. The people scatter, awaiting the timer to tick down and attach their heart to another. Jimmy does too, with footsteps not his own, in a direction he doesn’t choose, all while a heart beats that soon won’t be only his.

This- this couldn’t be happening. He was going to be done. He was going to get to be free from the hell that had become his life. 

He bites back a scream and kicks a nearby tree, feeling a shot of pain race up his foot. It throbs for a moment, but it’s a welcome distraction from the anger in his head at Grian, at the world, at everyone, because why can’t he just-

3

2

1

Your Soulmate Is…

???

Jimmy blinks the green letters out of his vision, only to be hit by a strong sense of vertigo for a split second. His vision swims, and his heart beats almost painfully in his chest. 

He’s been linked.

It’s too late now.

Any sense of peace from earlier is gone, replaced by a rising sensation of dread. He can’t do this again. He can’t do this again.

Because now he’ll be dooming someone else when he dies. Now the void won’t try to feast upon him alone, and he won’t get the sweet release of his code being torn from the universe because everyone on this server likes to play the fucking hero and won’t let him.

It’s fine. It’s fine, everything is fine. He- he’ll figure it out. Maybe this will be a good thing, maybe his soulmate will have some sort of astounding luck to counteract whatever the hell the universe is doing to him.

The excuse doesn’t sound genuine, even to his own thoughts.

Ok. He can do this. Just- gather materials. Play the game. He’s done it before, he’s good at it, no matter what everyone else says.

So he does. He gathers wood, explores the world, even stumbles upon a cave. There’s a startling lack of iron inside, but at least he’s getting some stone. 

He’s smelting a few of the scraps of iron he’s found when a flash of green catches his eye in the distance, only illuminated by the torches he’s already placed down. The green turns into a shape, the shape turns into a figure, the figure turns into someone he still doesn’t know whether to regard as foe or friend.

“Oi! Jimmy!” Joel calls out, and thankfully the part of Jimmy that wants to slam his head into the stone in front of him gives way to the part that gives a practiced grin. He can see the glinting of iron armor the man dons, even in the low light, as well as the food in the man’s hand.

“Joel! Any chance you can spare some salmon?”

The man immediately shakes his head. “Uh, no. I need it, I’m low on food.”

“Fair- I was wondering who was taking all the iron, guess that’s solved now!”

Joel has the decency to look sheepish. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that, mate. Don’t want my soulmate hating me right out the gate, yknow?”

“Yeah, that checks out.” Jimmy turns back to his furnace for a second to check on the iron he’s smelting, only to feel a jolt of pain in his shoulder. “Ouch! What-“

Joel punches him in the shoulder again, laughing. “Shush, Tim, I’m gonna make your soulmate annoyed at you!”

Frustration flares somewhere deep in Jimmy as he dodges the next swing. “How did you know it wasn’t me and you? It coulda been me and you!”

The other man just shrugs, landing on more punch on Jimmy’s now sore shoulder. “Dunno, just had a feeling.”

Don’t get mad, Jimmy, don’t get mad. He’s just… being Joel.  “Well, we passed the test, so it seems like we aren’t together this go-around.”

The flames of the furnace cast a warm glow on Joel’s face as he puts some food in it. “Yeah… I prayed that it wasn’t, so…”

Jimmy wishes he could say it didn’t hurt. That after all this time he’d become desensitized to the comments, that he was able to shrug it off like any other person would be able to.

Then again, the universe doesn’t seem to be in the business of granting Jimmy’s wishes.

He should just stay quiet. He should laugh it off, move on, do what he always does, because Joel doesn’t mean any harm. He knows he doesn’t.

But a small part of him questions. It asks, just this once, if it really is a joke. If Joel really has meant it all this time, if the effect his words have had on Jimmy are justified. The larger part of him that knows it’s a joke longs for… something. Just some kind of confirmation that Jimmy is just overreacting, for Joel to look him in the eyes and say he was only kidding. 

The words escape his lips before he can even think about them.

“You… prayed you wouldn’t be paired with me…?” 

Look at me, Joel. Look at me. Look at me look at me loOK AT ME-

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t even tear his gaze away from the furnace.

Everything is clouded in a haze of raging emotions as he listens to Joel talk about the mineshaft, following blindly behind. 

The question was stupid. It was utterly, undeniably idiotic, just like Jimmy himself, because now he only longs more for the thing he can’t have. He’s angry at so many of things- Joel, Grian, the universe, himself, void he’s mad at himself-

Even the rush of finding the amethyst cave isn’t enough to clear his head, all the voices around him seeming muddy and loud enough to make him want to slam his hands over his ears. The singing of the crystals, the laughs of his friends as they remembered the last game (remembered the group they kicked him from, the times they turned him away because he’s just useless Tim), all enough to make him grateful for the peaceful quiet of the surface world as he lugs himself out of the cave, iron armor weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Well, it’s not totally quiet- this is a server with his friends. Quiet doesn’t exist with them, especially with the musical calls of the goat horns ringing across the server, the faint laughs of his friends not far behind.

(He still calls them that. He calls them his friends and he hates it because they shouldn’t be, not when they make him hurt like this, but even now he can’t say he hates them. He should, but he can’t, and it makes it all the more infuriating.)

He needs to focus on something. He can’t just sit around wallowing in his own self pity, not when his soulmate is out there. They’re going to find each other eventually, and all he can hope for is someone who will at least be happy with him if he’s useful, which means he needs more materials.

… those goat horns do sound pretty cool, though.

It takes some coaxing, getting the goat to start charging him atop the mountain. Of course the only one reluctant to try to attack him is the one he needs to. That’s just how his luck is going.

He’s not prepared for the sensation of phantom teeth sinking into his arm, nor the feeling of an arrow glancing across his cheek. He gasps as the pain races through his nerves, wondering what the hell his soulmate is doing, then there’s burning pain being torn apart fire smoke-

Tango blew up

SolidarityGaming died

The respawn only takes second, leaving Jimmy breathing heavily, hand clutching his chest as he sits in the branches of a tree. The pain is fading rapidly, and that sick, horrible part of Jimmy’s brain misses it, the same part that tells him to fall off his builds and overall be a fucking pitiful excuse of a human being.

He groans, pushing himself up and narrowly managing to avoid falling out of the tree completely as he lowers himself to the ground. He can hear frantic apologies from somewhere above him, and it takes a moment for him to spot the source of the voice- his soulmate. 

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry- that explodification came out of nowhere-“ Tango rakes his nails through his hair, small tendrils of smoke rising out of it as he does. His red eyes look sheepishly at the leaves in front of him as he sits in a tree, just like Jimmy was moments prior. “The first death too, oh gosh-“

Jimmy’s heart plummets into the earth below as he realizes that, yes, he did just die first, even if it wasn’t a permadeath. Granted, it was Tango that dragged him down, but they were practically one in the same now. He might have just doomed him from the second the universe linked them.

Void, he really is cursed, isn’t he?

Ice cold shards of hate and dread shoot through his veins, but he shoves them down into all the splintering cracks and crevices his constitution has acquired throughout all of this. He takes a deep breath, carefully schooling all the scorn out of his voice as he addresses the blaze born. “Ok, Tango, walk me through it- walk me through what happened.”

He watches as Tango talks, absorbing the words without fully taking time to understand them. The other man’s hands are constantly moving, fidgeting, and even now he refuses to meet Jimmy’s gaze, clearly embarrassed. His ruby red gaze instead flits between the leaves, the ground, the sky, anything except for Jimmy’s face.

Void, why does no one ever look at him?

He barely holds back a wince at the thought, pushing the thought down and instead reaching out a careful hand towards the fretting blaze hybrid. The other man startles out of his explanation at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, his gaze turning to Jimmy’s almost involuntarily as words accompany the touch. “Hey, it’s all good. It happens.”

And he means it. Even beneath all the hate and annoyance and pure everything churning beneath the surface, there’s no part of him that blames Tango.

After all, why blame him for Jimmy’s curse?

There’s nothing anyone could do to be settled with this luck, to be stuck with someone who can’t build, can’t do redstone, can only blow himself up with TNT and die. There’s no reason someone would deserve to be stuck with a person who only serves to isolate and drag others down with him, because if he’s ridiculed, everyone he associates with will be too. Then they’ll hate him, leaving him alone, and it’s just a never ending loop, really, a snake eating its own tail because there’s no one around for it to eat or to even eat it.

“Jimmy? You ok?”

Tango’s words send him careening back to earth, back to reality, back to the here and now. His eyes snap to his soulmate, and he’s looking at him now. Tango’s glowing eyes are trained on him, soley on him, and Jimmy fights back the question of when the last time someone did that was. It doesn’t matter, even if Tango’s undivided attention warms his soul similarly to how the blaze born is warming the air around him just by existing.

Stop trying to care. It will be easier if you don’t.

A smile slips back onto his face the way it always does, the way he’s made it, the way it has to. “Yeah, I’m all good!”

He wishes with all his heart that he could mean it.

It’s a struggle to stay tethered to the dirt beneath his feet as he explores, attempting to find his stuff to make up for what they lost. Of course, it’s long gone by the time he finds where he died, and all he has to show for his efforts is wounded pride as everyone’s laughter rings in his ears.

Void, he’s tired.

He’s not useful. He doesn’t know how to build, not like Tango does, as much as his soulmate tries to deny it. He doesn’t blame himself for that. He doesn’t.

He does. He really does.

Still, he can do some things. He focuses on the loud mooing of cows as they follow him, big brown eyes fixed on the wheat in his hand as he approaches the ranch, knocking clumsily against the door to alert the one inside.

“Jimmy? What are you- oh my god!”

Tango’s eyes shine as they land on the cows, and he immediately leans down and pets them, running a hand through their short fur. “There are so many! Jimmy, you’re amazing!”

The canary’s brain stutters.

… what?

He barely has time to process the words, ones he doesn’t remember the last time he heard, before he’s fully encompassed and his feet are off the ground and he’s surrounded by warm. Tango spins him around clumsily, laughing and squeezing tight, before pulling both of them onto the ground. Jimmy can feel both his own dull spike of pain as well as Tango’s as his heart thuds away in his chest. 

Hands are on his back. Someone is laughing, but not at him. He’s not laughing at him. He’s not laughing at him.

For the first time in a long time, Jimmy’s heart feels warm.

For the first time in a long time, Jimmy laughs. Heartfeltly, genuinely laughs.

The rest of the day is spent in a flurry of activity, building a pen for the cows and feeding the chickens and a lovely almost domestic dance that Jimmy can barely wrap his head around, even as a pair of arms wraps around him more times than any ever have. His thoughts are still racing in bed that night. 

It’s too good to be true.

Everyone has let him just be the butt of a joke for so long, so why on earth is Tango being like this? It’s horrible. It’s horrible and he loves it and he never wants to go without this feeling again even though he’s barely had it for long. He hates it.

He still doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve it, just like how Tango doesn’t deserve all the trouble that’s going to come with being bound to him.

Haunting laughter echoes in his head, overpowering the warm sound of Tango’s from earlier. They’re a cruel, necessary reminder. He can’t let himself forget.

He’s Jimmy. And Jimmy can only fall.

He doesn’t know why he does it. It’s stupid, he’s stupid, an idiot, because why on earth is he up on the roof of the ranch? It’s not like he’s going to do anything, not when it would take Tango down with him, not this early on in the games. Still, as he looks down at the ground, he wonders what he would have to do for it to be enough to kill. If he towers up and takes off what pathetic excuse for armor he has, he should splat pretty nicely. Then he’ll be red, then he can fall again and never have to worry about anything again.

His boots are next to him now. He doesn’t remember taking them off. A chill races up his spine in the cold night air, and he finds himself longing for warmth. 

Tango is warm. He should go back to Tango.

He keeps sitting, clenching wooden planks in his hands and fighting the irrepressible urge to place one, then another, then another, then another…

He blinks. He’s higher up now. He doesn’t remember building up.

He should be more concerned, but he can’t bring himself to care.

The ground is far down, far enough to be dangerous, to be lethal. To be exactly what he wants. To take Tango down with him.

He should go back inside.

He sits on the planks, looking down. 

It just isn’t fair. He just wants to- he- 

He absentmindedly reaches up, digging his nails hard into his arms in a futile attempt to ground himself. It stings, sending spikes of pain racing through his nerves. Even when he’s almost certain there will be crescents in his arms for ages to come after he lets go, he keeps his hands in place, because maybe if he hurts enough here it will take away all the horrible tumultuous emotions that make him hurt more than this ever could.

I should fall. I should go inside, back to bed. I should stay. I don’t need to stay. I don’t want to stay. I can’t stay. I can’t-

“Jimmy?”

He doesn’t move, even as he feels his heart plummet.

Tango.

He’s so close. He should fall now. He screws his eyes shut, leaning forward. He needs to just do it a little more and-

Arms wrap around his shoulders and yank him back onto the block, holding him close. 

There’s silence across the roof as the two men breathe raggedly, one’s heart racing with adrenaline and the other’s beating fast like it was almost one step closer to never doing again. It hurts. He was so close, but now he’s not, and it hurts. Sharp spikes of pain lace through his arms as his nails dig in yet again, harder than ever.

Tango lets out a hiss, and dully Jimmy remembers that Tango can feel that now. He’s hurting Tango. Void, he’s hurting Tango and he’s so damn angry at himself for it but that just makes him want to dig his nails into his arms even harder until-

Warm hands wrap around his wrists, gently pulling his hands from his arms. “Hey, hey, don’t hurt yourself. Please, just- talk to me, rancher.”

It’s not fair.

It’s not fair that Tango is talking so softly to him despite them never having hung out before. It’s not fair that he doesn’t get this from those he’s known for years. It’s not fair that he has to keep hurting like this.

A drop of water lands on his arm, and he realizes with a start that he’s crying. A thumb gently swipes under his eye, wiping away the tears. “Let’s- let’s get down from here, ok?”

Jimmy barely manages a nod before an arm is wrapped around his waist. Slowly, Tango lowers them back down to the roof. Distantly, he realizes that Tango built up to him, wasting materials on him. He shouldn’t. Jimmy isn’t worth wasting materials on. 

He’s not even worth the air he breathes.

“Don’t say that.”

Of course he said that out loud. Of course Tango heard him. It doesn’t sound like Tango’s voice responding. It’s shaky, scared. “Jimmy, please, you don’t mean that.”

He should say he doesn’t.

He shrugs.

The wind blows. He’s so cold.

Until, suddenly, he isn’t.

Warm hands reach up, cradling his face, and it takes everything in him not to lean into the touch. He looks at Tango for the first time this all started, and Tango looks at him, really looks at him in a way no one has in a long time. “Please,” he whispers, hair flickering in the dark. “Please, talk to me.”

Jimmy pushes the words out, stubborn and unwilling though they are, screwing his eyes shut. “… I can’t do this, Tango. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t apologize, that’s- that’s ok. That’s ok, we can talk to Grian, see if he can-“

“No.”

Tango’s tone somehow becomes even more earnest. “Jimmy, if you don’t want to play this time, you don’t have to- not if this is how it makes you feel.” 

“That won’t change anything, Tango.” Silence. “I’d feel this way whether I was playing or not.”

Tango stills completely beside him, and a sick part of Jimmy cheers, because he’s finally disturbed the one good thing this run has had going for him. He’s finally going to be alone again, like he’s supposed to be, like the universe will forever dictate. Tears continue to fall from his eyes, rolling off his cheeks and onto the hands holding him so gently. 

“How long?”

That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? How long has he wanted to throw himself off buildings, wanted to drown himself knowing the others would just laugh it off as him being “classic Tim”? 

How long has he wanted to die?

“I don’t know.” He replies, because that’s all he can say. It’s the closest thing to an answer he has, because even though he knows he wasn’t always like this he can’t clearly remember the before. Only the bitter, numb, hopeless now.

“What-“ The words abruptly cut off, and he feels the temperature in the air slowly creep higher. “It’s the others, isn’t it?”

All the air leaves Jimmy’s lungs as he opens his eyes, meeting Tango’s again as he hits the nail on the head, the final one in his coffin. He does it before he can think of what it means, that it’s confirming that he’s too sensitive to take jokes, to the point where he’d rather die than let others have some fun. He realizes a split second too late as Tango’s eyes widen, the flames on his head sparking with renewed fervor. He waits for the words that will undoubtedly accompany the sparks, the anger and disgust that will come with wasting Tango’s time with his stupid, stupid emotions.

“I’m going to kill them.”

… no.

No, that can’t be right.

That can’t be what Tango is saying, all while holding him and talking to him and wiping his tears. That can’t be right.

Because-

“No, don’t. It’s not their fault. I’m just-“

“-Jimmy, don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

“But it’s true!” It comes out louder than he means it to, adding ‘yelling at Tango’ to the ever growing list of things he can hate himself for as he yanks himself out of Tango’s hands. The cold stings his skin.  “They’re just jokes! They don’t mean them to hurt. So if I am getting hurt, then I just can’t take it, because I’m weak and pathetic and I should just die!”

The words seem to ring out across the rooftop, the unspoken root of it all finally out in the open. All the things he swore he’d never let get heard are there, painful and raw and so, so messy, laid at Tango’s feet like the world’s most heretical offering, the kind that would get one cremated by holy fire for daring to even exist. 

But-

The warmth that surrounds him isn’t burning. It’s careful, firm, pressure around his waist and chest. It’s fiery and strong but not harmful, like he’s sitting in a blazing furnace who’s flames are guarding him from every spare speck of cold that could approach him. 

Tango is hugging him.

He can’t remember the last time a hug felt this safe.

“Jimmy, listen to me.” The murmured words pierce through his crumbled defenses and strike him right in his hurting, dying, bound soul. “You are not weak. You are not over-sensitive, you are not pathetic. You are kind, you are caring, and you would rather suffer to the point of death than let others know you’re hurting, but you are not any of those awful things you believe.”

He tries to talk, he does, but his brain is so overwhelmed by warmth, sadness, confusion, comfort, all the things he’s tried to keep at arm's reach, that all he can do is make a strangled whine of emotion.

“Shh, shh, I know, it hurts, it hurts. It hurts more than jokifying does, because a joke is only a joke if everyone is having fun. Jimmy, at that point they weren’t joking, even though that’s how they meant it. They were just being cruel.”

The stupid words won’t leave his lips, the questions and protests stuck on his tongue as he looks up at Tango. Somehow the man seems to know exactly what he can’t say as the blazeborn whispers his next words.

“You deserve to be upset, you deserve to be hurt by their comments. Jimmy, you deserve to live.”

The carefully crafted defenses break.

Jimmy collapses fully into Tango’s arms, gasping and heaving with great sobs as years upon years upon years of hurt and pain and anger spill out onto the blazeborn’s shoulder. He cries things, words he doesn’t even process besides his apologies and ranting and pleas, and Tango just rubs his back, sharp nails tracing gentle circles on his back in a way that only makes him cry harder.

The sun is rising by the time the sobs quiet down, leaving two soulmates holding each other in the dawn’s light. Tango’s fingers are running through Jimmy’s hair, and tears are no longer running down Jimmy’s face. The peaceful quiet isn’t shattered when Tango speaks up, instead gently crescendoed into a conversation. 

“You should talk to Grian and Joel about this.”

The canary immediately tenses up beneath his soulmate. “No, I can’t-“ He winces as his voice comes out strained, his throat raw from hours of crying. 

“Jimmy, I know Grian and Joel. If they knew they were making you hurt like this-“

“They’d blame themselves, Tango. I don’t want them to do that.”

“- I meant, they would stop making the jokes. They want you to be happy, rancher, but you have to tell them that it’s hurting you.”

“I can’t.”

Tango gently takes his face in his hands, guiding his gaze up to his own ruby eyes. “I’ll go with you if you need me to, but they need to know, otherwise the problem isn’t going to get any better.” He pauses. “Then again, if I explodificate them then they can’t make those jokes anymore…”

“No, no, no exploding my brother.”

“So I can explode Joel?”

“No!” Jimmy sighs, leaning his face into Tango’s hands. “… could you be there? Please?”

“Of course.” Tango smiles, brighter than the rising sun and kinder than he’s been looked at in ages. He’s warmer than the sun, too, filling Jimmy with a comfort and making him feel safe. He had forgotten what it felt like to be safe. 

He almost never got to remember.

There are still hard conversations he has to have. Telling Grian is certainly going to be full of tears from both parties, and Jimmy is not delusional- he knows it’s not always going to be like this, that he’s going to have to fight everything he’s come to believe about himself if he decides to trust that Tango is right.

Still, as his eyes drift shut, he finally lets himself believe that there’s hope for him after all.

#sera's stories #double life #double life smp #team rancher #rancher duo #jimmy solidarity #jimmy solidarity fic #tango tek #tangotek #tangotek fic #double life fanfic #trafficblr #traffic smp #tw su1c1d3 #tw sui attempt #tw sucidal ideation #tw shelf harm #tw death #tw dissociation #jimmy is Not Having A Good Time #cw death #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #mentioned third life #mentioned grian and joel #smallishbeans #joel smallishbeans #grian #disclaimer: im FINE #this isn’t one of my vent pieces promise

[angel4astraea]

𝐓𝐈𝐌 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐂

ft. Timothy Wright, Brian Thomas, mentions of Jay and Alex.

cw. smoking, mentions of death & pills, fem!reader.

a/n. i miss brian so much, can’t even tell u how much. when i finished the series, i sobbed so hard. poor timmy :((((

When it comes to falling in love with Tim, it'd be in college before Marble Hornets. You two might have met through Brian when the three of you met for a cheap dinner. Being college kids means that money is tight and fresh foods might not be all that accessible all the time.

When Tim first met you, he was admittedly a little timid. He never really had a heart struck moment like then. The way you joked around, your smile and overall being had brought him butterflies and sweaty palms. Of course, Brian knew what he was doing when he brought you along for dinner that night.

After that night, the two of you communicated over the phone and sometimes met up. The three of you, Brian, Tim and yourself, had formed an unofficial friend group. It was lovely having two friends that would make your life a little more interesting. With Tim, he tried to impress you a little by showing you what he was studying currently and topics within the subject. He wasn't one to show off his collections that he didn't own or even go on thrill seeking adventures. He was realistic but had hope that you'd accept him for who he was. In the end, his subtle charms worked when the two of you went on a casual date.

Tim was content for the first time, pushing the negativity from his fucked up past away. He couldn't ruin the second good thing in his life. The first was Brian becoming his friend, his first true friend. Now, you came into his life and lit his heart on fire with intense emotions. He wanted to protect you, hell, he wanted to stay with you forever if he could feel like this.

The dates became regular. Between classes, you'd make a quick coffee run a date. Even though the both of you were undoubtedly tired, you two still made the best out of what you had. One thing that wasn't a date was his doctor visits.

It was odd, he wouldn't tell you about what was going on. The weekly visits were always hush hush. When you asked about how it went, he would say good. Period. Nothing else about it. The topic must have been sensitive, you could tell from a mile away. In the end, pushing him would only end up with Tim either ignoring you for a short period of time or snapping at you to stop. That was the only untouched topic of the relationship.

Despite that, Tim is a loving man. He cares for you when you're sick, on your period or when you accidentally sprain your ankle. He does the best he can every time, kissing the top of your head with such endearment. He'll cook the most basic things but the effort is what he masters at. He puts energy into the things that will affect you, he wants you to shake off this illness unlike him. He still suffers from his, making him protective over you.

When Marble Hornets is being filmed, there was a shift in Tim's behaviour, Brian as well. This Alex guy must have irritated the both of them, you think. You decide to ask Brian about what's going on and he can't even give a straight answer, shrugging it off. The confusion will set in however it would be forgotten until Jay reappears in your lives.

It had been years since the filming, why now? Apparently Jay had been snooping around for quite some time now. Tim had come home more aggravated than usual, pulling you in for a tight embrace after dry swallowing a pill. Something was wrong, very wrong. You could smell it in the air, in his cigarette smelling shirt. You had begged him to let you in for once, pleading to tell you what had happened that left him so traumatized.

Tim will only explain it so that you won't go off on your own or to Jay. Either choice would end up with you getting too deep into something you shouldn't have even looked at. He'll explain why he goes to the doctors, the pills and then what Jay is doing. He'll tell you to avoid Alex Kralie, do what you have to do to stay away from him. He'll even encourage you to buy a gun if you have to as Alex has that height on you, weight even. He could take you just as easily as a small rock without remorse.

You wanted to ask Brian about this but he was gone. Just. . gone. There wasn't a note, text message, phone call, voice message. . nothing. One of your best friends disappeared into the wind. It confused you, why would he leave everyone behind? Tim could only tell you that he will be fine, Brian finds a way out always.

The next step was taken when that hooded man broke into your's and Tim's house while you were asleep. Tim was thrown into a coughing fit and seizure. Yet, you didn't wake up until you heard the door slam behind him. Shaken by the bizarre action, you search the house and find the small bin that held his medication knocked over. The bottle was missing, his bottle of pills. The only thing you could think to do was call Jay and ask if you could come over to his motel room.

When you arrive at his room, you told him what happened or least what you think happened. Breaking down, you sob to your new friend and admit your fears of what Tim had shifted into; the mood swings, the pills being taken more than usual, chain smoking. . it made you so scared for the future. Jay had comforted you the best he could, allowing you to sleep in the extra bed until later. He had woken you up and then the unimaginable happened after a brief tracking. .

Timothy had attacked you and Jay.

It was a moment you never forgot, bits and pieces still foggy in the back of your mind after you woke up in the shed with Jay, Tim not too far off. You were disoriented and relied on your lover to carry you back to the car, legs too sore from whatever happened. In some sort of natural alarm, your body told you to run away. You didn't.

The entire time Jay was with Tim, you had fallen 'ill' to the sickness. There was these hallucinations, the bloody noses, confusion. . Tim had been stretched thin, so, you didn't tell him. He knew something was off but he pushed it aside, telling himself that you were fine, everything was fine with you.

Everything was fine when he made love to you when he could but it was few and between movements of motels. Tim still loved you, despite his night and day 'mood' changes. He tried to give you everything but everyone was just. . messed up. He just wished he never signed up for that stupid little thing. Maybe he wouldn't of infected everyone.

But when the end was near, when he almost escaped clean, he broke. Tim had killed not only Alex but his best friend, Brian. Everything was in shambles, he just hoped--hell, prayed that you were still at the motel room that you rented for the time being.

When he returned from that life changing scene, he was covered in blood and disoriented. You had assumed the worst and began to silently help him out of the clothes that smelled of iron. You made him shower, sitting in the tub while you wrapped your arms around his torso, wondering if the shower would hide your own warm tears. He was numb, you were a little numb too. Yet, you were withholding something that might help him regain a little humanity. You felt guilty, face pressing into the shoulder blade of your lover.

The following days, you packed up whatever you had left from your bag, ready to move on from this town. Tim was silent, unwilling to speak unless it was easy answers. The acts of affection had been soft yet fearful. He didn't want you to disappear or he didn't want you to get hurt by him. Even though you forgave him, Tim still felt his guts twist.

He threw away the mask, the two of you said goodbye to Jessica and made your way away from the town.

On the drive, after he flipped the camera around, you took his free hand and placed it on your stomach. With such tenderness, you smiled and hoped he would understand.

Maybe a baby to light his way would help him heal.

#masky x reader #tim wright #tim wright x reader #x fem reader #x reader #marble hornets #marble hornets tim #headcannons #i miss brian #we stan brian and tim #requests r open

[dairy-farmer]

I think everyone in the family have their own favorite things to give to Tim, just bc they love him so much💜

I really love your idea of Bruce giving Tim jewelry, is so sweet and classic. Diamond rings, pearls, silver and white gold necklaces, complete sets with rubies and emeralds. Tim's favorite is a set of white gold of earrings, necklace, bracelet and ring with a small pieces of sapphire (it used to belong to his mother, and it was a family treasure, but when Janet died and Drake Industries went bankrupt, Jack sold a lot of stuff of her wife). Bruce always knew that Tim want her mother jewelry since found out that Jack sold it and he paid more than it's worth for it, it's for Tim after all.

I feel like Dick is the kind of person who never know what to given on someone's birthday, except Tim, he knows exactly what is gonna give Tim all the time. Clothes, a lots of dresses, skirts, leggings, sweaters, tops, headbands, hair clips, shorts, jeans, cardigans, sportswear. But his personal favorite is give Tim all kind of lingerie. corsets, fishnet stockings, bralettes, panties, there's no limit when dick is thinking about what Timmy should dress!!

Damian loves Tim, and he knows him so well, so when he star to working by his own and earning money with his art, the first thing that he buys is a new laptop for Tim, since last one fell out of his backpack and completely destroyed the screen, Tim didn't want to fix it but had been putting off getting a new one. (Damian also buy more wood and cloth to make more art and buy new tech stuff to Tim)

Jason is not used to worry about another human being since his mother, but baby bird sometimes is so careless and impulsive that it is impossible for Jason to not worry. it started when jason was coking in the manor for a Thanksgiving dinner with Alfred when Tim just appeared in the kitchen and ate Jason's mashed potatoes. It was... something, jason don't know what but now he is cooking Tim's breakfast, lunch and dinner. The only time he stops is when he can't get Tim in Gotham.

I think is cute that each one have their own separate way to interact with Tim and in base on that know exactly what to give to him. Is not that Tim is manipulate them . Of course he doesn't, Tim is such an Angel, how someone can think the opposite?

thoughts?:)

this is so sweet 🥰🥰🥰🥰!!! them each having something special that they use to show their love for tim, to show him they care. both dick and bruce adorning tim with clothes and jewlery and using those as little ways to show as well as remind themselves of tim's place in their lives. damian and jason being more thought oriented and anticipating his needs, caring for his health <3333. their methods are each so different but they each uniquely are able to show tim how much they care for and love him 🥰!!!!

tim being their beloved little doll and angel, his sweet hands and eyes always so accpeting and grateful, lighting up with love when he's given something by them. it's just so tender and sweet the different ways they show love 🥰!!

#anonymous #asks #answered asks

[distortedsoup]

here is a short story my friend @zacdrawsstuff gave me permission to post for them (they’re still figuring out tumblr). it is about charlie and liam and it is adorable and i giggle and kick my feet forever.

word count: ~1300

tags: fluff, fluff, so much fluff, they’re in love and they’re gay and oh my god look at them i love them charlie’s giving liam a promise ring and im gonna cry

Charlie waved Timmy off, before turning to go back and check up on Liam. She did of course want to give him his space, but after not seeing Will for so long... He just wanted to make sure he was actually taking care of himself, and not to stressing over something stupid like work, or his protectors. As she made his way over he made sure to summon in a small purple box in one of his hands, and a picture frame in the other. He had meant to give them to him earlier, but... Well. At least they had the chance now.

She knocked a small pattern into the wood of Liam's door as he waited for a response, smiling when the door handle turned and opened on it's own. Taking the first step inside Charlie's heart fluttered at the sight of his lover curled up in bed, a patterned blanket wrapped tight around him and the book he had left out in his lap. He was already looking at the door when Charlie entered, cheeks painted a delicate pink and head tilted back against the wall. He set the book down - much to Charlies joy, marking the page with a little owl bookmark - and shifted closer to the wall, offering the space to them. She was quick to take him up on the offer, closing the door gently behind her before striding over and taking his hand as she sat down. "Heya love... How are you doing?" William's head dropped to Charlie's shoulder the second the other sat down, the eye that had been on the muscle just behind there shifting a few groups over to settle on their side.

"I should get a moss ball for Pipper." Came the timid response, a soft contrast to Liam's more common, harsher tone. He almost sounded younger, a tired quality to him as he started to trace out the patterns of Charlie's forearm around him. Charlie shivered.

"You should?"

"Yeah... She needs something to focus her attention on, but a person would annoy her... A pet takes too much patience and could die, while a moss ball? A moss ball needs none of that. It needs occasional attention, not much patience, not a lot of the time, and won't die very easily."

"Sounds perfect."

"It is. I might... I might wait though. Until Amira's mindscape sorts itself out. Which reminds me, I do need to sort out that custody-"

"Love, angel, I know this mindscape is important to you, but could you please try and... And think about something else, instead? How about those moss balls, where did you get the idea from?"

"A logical side, he liked them. Then I was looking through the book index, and... Yeah, they were there. How to get them, care for them, keep them, get more.... All of that."

"Yeah, books are quite special like that," Charlie agreed as she started to comb through Liam's hair, twirling dark strands between a green and blue finger into small curls he would let go of, and watch unfurl and lay loose over his head. "Have you thought of getting some for yourself?"

"Moss balls?"

"Mhm. I think it might be nice for you to have something that doesn't depend on you quite as much as your protectors do for once."

"I... I suppose. But I think Maple is enough for now, she is still partially my responsibility after all."

"Yeah, yeah... Actually, good news about her, I managed to un-train the 'fuck' command!"

"You did?"

"Yeah! Now when I saw fuck she flies to my arm and pecks me, instead of picking stuff up."

"Like lighters?"

"Like lighters."

"Well, that is... Improvement." Liam let his eyes flutter close for a second, reaching out to catch the hand that had been tracing his side and kissing the palm of it, lips brushing across the tender muscle. "Thank you for taking care of her. I don't think I would have been able to handle her and my protectors, and I'm scared to think where she would have ended up."

"Of course! She's our owl, the least I can do is keep her safe." Charlie ignored all the pink patches disappearing from his hands to take shape around his cheeks and ears, knowing Liam at least wouldn't properly acknowledge it - look up and give him a small, playfully knowing smile before kissing his hand again and leaning back, yes. But saying anything no, and they wouldn't do that to Will either. "Oh, I almost forgot there for a second, I got something for you!"

"You did?" Liam raised a brow, skeptical. Charlie had already gotten him the book, and the biscuits, and most other surprise gifts came in the form of 'here you go, also I broke something' or 'here you go, also I might break something'.

(There was, of course the third, newest gift option, a quick kiss to Liam’s temple or jaw or cheek, but hoping for that every time would set Charlie’s expectations too high for the other. Besides, it was so new Liam wasn't completely sure he would react correctly if that was the gift. What even was the correct reaction...)

"Yeah! Two things, actually."

"Oh no?"

"They're... Well, I did want to give them to you last year, but I couldn't find you, and then your birthday had been a month ago and it would be awkward to give it to you a whole month late, so I just didn't, and then this year came and I still couldn't find you, and I know it's a bit late even now but- okay."

She took in a small breath, before pulling out the picture frame, and placing it in Liam's hands. The frame was black, painted with specs of bronze along the edge and a date at the bottom. The actual image in the frame was of- well, them, every time. Every second Liam twisted the picture just a bit, a new picture would emerge of them laughing together, or smiling, or just working in silence, or one of them working and the other sneaking away with food and a drink to his greenhouse.

Every degree was a snippet of a core memory, of a smile and a joy and a time without worry of mindscapes. "I know it's a bit cliché, and trust me the other thing is even worse, but I couldn't think of anything else to do with the pictures, and I know you like to collect things, so I-" They were cut off by quiet sniffling in their arms, quickly muffled as Liam tried to look away. "Will? Love, are you crying? Hey hey hey, no, it's okay, you can cry. Yeah, c'mere, you can cry all you need to love." They pulled him into a close hug, four connected arms holding the smaller man's form against her own. "Shhh... It's okay, take your time. I'm here."

It took a few minutes of sitting in comfortable quiet until Liam could speak again, cradling the frame as he pulled away to just lean back against Charlie's shoulder once more. "Can I show you the other thing, or should I wait a bit?" There were a few seconds of silence where Liam didn't respond, before a small shake of his head broke it.

"This is enough. I promise I'll see it another time, but this... This is enough."

"Okay. If this is enough for you, it's enough for me." Charlie slipped the box back in his pocket, and letting it sit there for however long they may need. Days, weeks, months, years, centuries, however long it took, it would be there, amethyst waiting and winking at him on it's bronze band. A big promise captured in a small, small ring, and it could wait.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

#interrobang #charlie interrobang #liam interrobang

[calyxaomphalos]

The Ghosts of Windy Ridge

Turn #106, one component

neighbor #11 - Stan McCallen (6)

27 April 2022, Wednesday Afternoon

I'd just paid my tab at Timmy's Diner and was about to leave when I saw Stan McCallen headed across the parking lot toward the door. The last time I'd seen Stan was last Friday afternoon out at the Sundevil River overlook and he had been less than pleased with me. I didn't see any way to not run into him. It was too late to duck back to the restrooms. He'd be in the door any moment.

He'd spotted me, I could tell. But he looked relieved? Like he was glad to see me? I was just putting my wallet into my bag when he opened the inner doors of the diner. "Ms Dyer! I am sure you will doubt my sincerity when I say I am relieved to see you. Please, may we talk?"

"I've just now finished my breakfast, but I think I could handle another cup of coffee and a dessert if you wanted to join me at a booth," I suggested.

"Yes, of course. A fine idea. I could use a lunch break myself," Stan said.

The waitress looked mildly surprised as she lead us to a booth, one just adjacent to where I'd sat with Dani once before. With her coffee pot in hand, she poured us each a mug and pointed to the menus sticking out of the condiment rack at the end of the table. "Be back in a few, eh?" she muttered, then went back behind the counter.

Stan picked up a menu as I stirred a packet of sugar into my mug. I could feel his conflicting relief and nervous doubts.

"I'm sure you know I'm a tarot reader," I began, hoping to ease into this gently. "But it doesn't take a psychic to think that you've been visited by the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come here, eh?"

Stan looked only at the cream he was slowly pouring into his mug. "Yes'm," he said quietly. "Something very much like that, yes."

I put my hand out toward the middle of the table, not touching him, but close by, just in case.

Stan continued stirring a bit longer than needed, then set his spoon aside and took a careful sip. He made no move to take my hand, but after he'd swallowed his coffee, he cleared his throat and said, "a spirit came to me at home the other night. It glowed, much like the one Pastor Mitchelson calls up at services."

He paused and took another swig of coffee. The only glowing spirit around here I know of is Ergediel, and the last time I spent any time in their company was over two weeks ago, when I visited Foras' Lair and came away with an old graphics programming textbook written by Mo. Ergediel hadn't thought much of me at that last meeting, but that hadn't kept me from offering coffee and thanks to them every morning at the cabin for the kindness they showed me when I had first come to town. I was hoping that Ergediel perhaps thought fondly enough of me and in visiting Stan, had convinced him that I'm not the menace he had been led to believe.

I took a swig of my own coffee and waited for Stan to continue. When he had another swallow of his own coffee and didn't seem to want to continue his commentary without me saying something, I faced a moment of indecision. Do I speak of my own connection to Ergediel? Or do I go ahead and let my surprise show at Stan's revelation that Pastor Dick summons visible spirits?

I decided on the latter and lifted my hand off the table to grasp my mug with both hands. "Pastor Mitchelson summons visible spirits, you say? And you believe this same spirit visited you recently? I'm sure you're telling me the truth, but honestly, I didn't think Pastor Dick had it in him to conjure a spirit." I let the pejorative nickname linger in the air for a while and took another swig from my mug.

"Yes'm," Stan said, and then he looked at me with a smile and a wink. "That spirit had a message for you, from your friend Maurice. I'm sure I have no idea why I was chosen to give the message to you, but here I am."

"Well, this is a fascinating turn of events! Please, what was the message?"

"The spirit told me to tell you, well, the spirit told me to tell you, he said, 'I am what I am.'"

I felt like my mind had played a trick on me. The phrases that Stan had said matched up perfectly with a sampled bit of audio I regularly hear on my favorite ambient music internet radio station. I had no idea if that was actually what Stan had said, or if somehow hearing his first few words caused me to hear the entire rest of his comment as the sampled track.

Stan's eyes had glazed over. Before I could muster the courage to ask him to repeat the spirit's message, the waitress abruptly appeared at the table. "Y'all want to order any food?"

Stan came out of his trance almost immediately and said, "I'll take a cheeseburger, extra pickle, no tomato, no mustard."

In hopes that sitting here another half hour or so while Stan ate his lunch might give Ergediel's message a chance to resurface, I went ahead and said, "I'll have a slice of the apple pie, a la mode, thanks."

The waitress turned and left. I paused a moment and then said, "so, you were just about to tell me the message from my friend Mo?"

"Right. I'm having deja vu or something because I thought I'd already told you. The spirit told me to tell you that Maurice says Salimi believes it was Bob who made the paintings and that you know where to find Bob. I have no idea who any of those people are, other than you and your friend Maurice, of course."

"I see, thank you," I replied, unsure about how much more to say on the matter, but I was filled with relief. If Salimi Kamal wasn't going to try to nail me for the paintings, I was probably going to be safe.

#the ghosts of windy ridge #writeblr #nanowrimo #over the mountain

[5ummit]

Dune (2021) + Timothée Chalamet + Letterboxd Reviews

#dune #duneedit #timothee chalamet #jason momoa #zendaya #letterboxd #letterboxd reviews #my edit #of course I had to give timmy his own set

[timotheechlamett]

JUST FRIENDS

contains: graphic smut, angst, fluff, dom/sub.

______________________________________

I pulled the yellow dress over my head and checked myself in the mirror one last time, today I was seeing Timmy and to be honest I was nervous. He and I have been best friends for years but I've found myself wanting more than that for a while now. I hear my phone buzz on my vanity.

"Hey angel I'm 5 away." His voice ringing through my ears, just hearing him made me wet.

"Okay Timmy, I'll be ready." I smile and hang up the phone.

I'm not sure how I would be able to control myself around him today every little thing he does sets me off, I sigh to myself wondering if he feels the same, but then again if he did I'm sure we would've been something by now.

'I'm outside!'

A text from him glowing on my screen, I grab my purse and make my way to the front of my apartment building, seeing him outside of his vehicle smiling at me. He engulfs me in a warm hug as I squeeze back I feel his nose nuzzle into my hair.

"I've missed you." He says softly, breaking the hug to look at me.

"Timmy it's only been 2 weeks since you last saw me!" I chuckle.

"I know but what can I say I'm needy." He smirks opening the car door for me and jogging around to the driver's side.

We went to the store, got beers, some snacks, and  then went to meet up with a few of our other friends, Nick, Zoe, Sarah, James, and Elise at our spot- an open clearing in a small portion of woods. Once we arrived I greeted everyone there, Sarah finally showed up and with a girl I had never met before.

"Guys this is Chloe!" Sarah introduced the blonde girl to everyone, she gave a small wave, we all introduced ourselves making her feel as welcome as possible.

She pays Timmy extra eye contact once he speaks up to introduce himself, already being flirty with him, I couldn't help but feel jealousy rise in my chest. She was beautiful there was no denying that and by the looks of it Timothee also thought so, returning the prolonged eye contact. I internally scoff and go to grab a beer, Elise coming up next to me.

"What's up? You okay babe?" Elise questions grabbing a beer herself popping the tab open.

"Honestly, I don't know.." I answer honestly taking a big swig of my drink. She grabs my hand and brings me over to the blanket set out on the ground.

"Okay spill." She sternly says.

"I don't know Elise, well I do know, but I don't-" I start to ramble suddenly feeling shy about the topic.

"You know I'm not gonna judge you whatever it is." She tilts her head giving me a small smile.

"It's Timmy, I'm absolutely without a doubt in love with him and have been for a long time. It just kills me because I know he doesn't see me that way and I can't shake the fact I want more with him." I sigh glancing back over at the curly boy, now helping the boys start building a fire for later.

"I think you should tell him sis, you don't even know how he feels you might be surprised. At least then you'll know and he doesn't feel at least something for you he's a dumb bitch." She chuckles taking another swig of her beer.

I smile at her thinking about how I would tell him when the time was right tonight.

_

"Okay never have I ever done it in public." Zoe laughs out, almost everyone takes a drink to that one.

At this point we had switched to vodka and I was definitely feeling it. We were all around the fire, the sun starting to set making the sky a blur of blue, pink and orange.

Of course Timmy and Chloe were sat next to each other, very obviously up each other's ass, it almost made me sick looking at them. Elise squeezed my leg to assure me she was there, a sympathetic look on her face.

The amount of alcohol I've consumed and the feelings swirling around in my head made the scene almost too much to handle.

Everyone was in their own conversations, I grab my cup walking along the hiking trail to a small creek I had never seen before, sitting on a rock by the creek bed.

I remove my shoes dipping my feet in, watching the water flow across my toes, getting into my own thoughts.

How could I tell him how I feel now? He hasn't left Chloe alone since she got here, of course he would want her, she was absolutely stunning, and I'm just..me- the best friend since 7th grade.

I feel tears swelling up in my eyes, the insecurities clouding my inner thoughts, not being able to help the droplets falling from my eyes rapidly.

Trying to control my little sobs, the sound of someone walking up behind me interrupts.

I turn to see him coming up to me.

"What's wrong my angel?" A look of worry spread across his face as he tries to grab your hands, you let out a low chuckle pulling your hands from his grip looking away.

"Nothing Timothée, what do you want?" You say more dryly than intended. He looks taken back, you never really use his full name.

"What the fuck is your problem? You've had an attitude since we got here." He has a slight tone in his voice.

I get up drinking the rest of the vodka in the cup, sitting it on the rock to put my shoes back on.

"Y/n." He steps closer to me with pleading eyes.

"Take me home." I say quietly, trying not to make it obvious the tears were running again.

I grab my cup walking past him back to the group gathering my things, saying bye to everyone as does Timmy while I wait for him by his car.

I could only look out the window the whole ride, catching him steal glances from the corner of my eye.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong now?" He looks over at me, I stay silent, the last cup you had now hitting you like a truck your emotions built up again.

"You wanna know what my issue is? You are Timothée." I spat getting out of his car making my way to the front door of the building, he follows closely behind you.

"What the fuck could I have possibly done y/n!" He steps in front of me blocking the door to my apartment.

I look into his eyes, tears stinging my eyes daring to fall.

"Do you really not see? Are you that blind to the fact I am hopelessly in love with you and have been since we met?" I choke out. All he can do is stare at you mouth agape.

"Of course you are, watching you with other girls- watching you not love me back is so fucking heartbreaking Timothée. I am so tired of feeling this way."

You were finally unraveling before him. Small sobs escaping you as you open your door, you go to close it but he stops it walking in and closing it behind him, "Y/n-" He grabs your wrist "Please don't. Just go." You whisper not able to look at him, tears still streaming down your face, "Look at me." He says sternly, turning your face to his.

"I've been waiting to hear you say that since 7th grade." He cups my face, wiping the tears fallen, all I can do is just look at him.

"You have no idea how in love with you I am y/n." He backs me against the wall, his thumb running across my lips, eyes boring into mine.

"What took you so fucking long?" He whispers ghosting his lips over mine, I let out a small sigh and he closes the gap between us.

I wrap my arms around his neck and he grips the back of my head deepening the kiss, he bites my bottom lip softly, and I run my tongue across his slipping it into his mouth.

His hands make their way down my body snaking under your dress, he kisses my neck now groping both of your breasts, the sudden contact making you moan his name softly.

"I've dreamed about what you sound like." He lowly growls in your ear nibbling your lobe, twisting your nipples with his fingers.

"Fuck." I breathe out now fully aware of how bad my heat was tingling for him.

He moves from my breasts to my soaking folds, massaging my clit through my lace panties. I throw my head back stifling my moans trying not to seem so needy for his touch.

"Do you want me to touch you y/n?" He's hovering over my lips once again.

"Oh god, please-" It comes out as more of a desperate whisper.

He brings his middle and ring finger up to my mouth, urging me to suck on them never breaking eye contact. With his other hand he pulls my panties down leaving them around my ankles, he removes his fingers from my mouth running the wet digits over my bud of nerves- my breath hitching.

He gently slides one finger in making you shiver with pleasure.

"You're so fucking wet for me." He adds another finger, hooking them inside of me rapidly, rubbing my clit with his thumb making the moans leave me loudly.

"Oh my god please don't stop- uhh" You moan into his ear gripping his shirt tightly, closing your eyes.

He brings a hand up to your neck squeezing lightly, you feel your walls tighten around his long fingers and butterflies in your stomach.

"Look at me baby." He pushes deeper into my abyss as I release onto his fingers looking him in the eyes.

He picks me up bringing me to the bedroom laying me down gently, undressing you leaving my body completely bare.

Suddenly a wave of self conscious washes over me and I cover myself.

He hovers over me moving the hair from my face.

"You are so beautiful mon amour, you don't need to hide from me." He leans down kissing my neck.

I begin undressing him, palming his erection through his boxers.

"Fuck me." He hums as I discard his last piece of clothing, now fully jerking him off. I get brave and kiss down his chest all the way to his tip, licking around the tip and he moans uncontrollably grabbing a fistful of hair, I look up at him.

"I want you to fuck my pretty little mouth." I say as innocently as possible causing him to let out a breathy sigh.

I get on my knees as he stands up still holding my hair. I continue sucking the tip as he guides my head further and further down his thick length making me look him in the eyes.

"Fuck you're so beautiful like that." He moans out thrusting into the back of my throat making me gag.

"Take it all baby, you can do it. Be a good girl for me." He pants out throat fucking me.

I hold your breath trying not to gag as much and he pulls out, a thick string of saliva connecting my mouth to him. I try to catch my breath- a couple tears falling from my eyes.

He lays me back down on the bed spreading my legs, getting in between.

"If I'm cumming anywhere, it's gonna be in that pretty little pussy." He lines himself up with my throbbing entrance, rubbing the head against the soaking folds, purposely teasing me.

"Please Timmy." I whimper out unable to contain how bad I need him.

"Beg for it." He rubs my clit with his tip staring intently.

"I need you inside my tight little pussy-" I moan out, "Please fuck me baby, I want you to fill me up." I.huff out into his ear earning a moan from him.

He slowly enters my folds making me gasp from how he was stretching me out, definitely unaware he was hung like this. I grip at his back only able to release small squeaks as he slowly thrusts into me, caressing my body as he does so.

"God you're so fucking tight y/n." He moans out gradually picking up the pace.

I'm a moaning mess underneath him as he grips the back of my knee pulling one leg up to his chest, hitting that glorious spot.

"Fuck me right there Timothée- oh my god you feel so good." You almost scream moaning uncontrollably, "You're so fucking big."

He repositions himself to ram into me harder than before, rubbing my clit with his thumb, my legs twitch about and that same butterfly feeling starts building up in the pit of my stomach.

"Jouis por moi." (Come for me) He thrusts harder and faster.

"I-I'm gonna c-cum." I yell out digging my nails into his back, eyes rolling back.

"You look at me when you cum, do you hear me?" He grabs my chin forcing me to gaze into his eyes.

His mouth agape moans slipping out with every pump. I finally reach my high screaming his name, he continues rubbing my clit and making my legs convulse from the over stimulation. I squirt on him sending him over the edge as he fills my insides with his hot sticky cum moaning out my name.

He collapses on top of me breathing hard, I the same.

"You're all mine now." He growls kissing me passionately.

"You're all I'll ever need." I cup his face lovingly.

#Timothée #Timothee Chalamet #timothée chalamet #Timothee #timothee chalamet smut #timothee imagine #timothee chalamet imagine

[httpmentalbreakdown]

So the reboot of the Fairly OddParents made me want to watch the original and( i’m sure in many peoples opinions) better version of the show. I grew up on the 2000s cartoon, and of course being a child there are things I never noticed. Rewatching as an adult made me realize how dark the show could have gotten if it wasn’t a kids show. Therefore I took the liberty of making my own analysis/headcannons. Feel free to add your own if anyone even sees this.

Timmy got his godparents for having an evil babysitter AND for having neglectful parents:

So it’s cannon that Timmy got his godparents because Vicky tortured him for a whole year and made his life miserable (Channel Chasers). Now Timmy’s parents are shown to go places leaving him with Vicky all the time (every damn episode). Most times even when they’re present, they are neglectful and selfish. They forget Tommy’s name (see what I did there) and even his own birthday. You could write it off as them being idiotic. but this happens multiple times. Some episodes go even further with them implying Timmy is somewhat a burden. I mean Timmy can go the whole day without his parents asking where he is some episodes. He even got annoyed that they were paying so much attention to him like normal parents (Nega Timmy). Mind you this was only because a literal reality tv show said they were “bad parents”. Which they totally are but that’s how it’s acknowledged for them lmao. However it’s always brushed aside in true cartoon fashion. They always try to make them oblivious but loving. I would say Cosmo is more this because while he’s a himbo,he loves Timmy deeply. Timmy even still “ loves” his parents, but I feel he tries to see the best in them. Jorgen even lets Timmy keep his fairies on his birthday because they forgot his birthday. Their neglect is what sets Timmy apart for his need for fairies

Tootie and Trixie could have fairy godparents but they don’t because they don’t reach the level of misery that Timmy has or could have without fairies:

Tootie and Trixie both have vastly different lives. What they do have in common is loneliness. I mean Trixie has tons of friends and is super popular, but they don’t actually care for her. I mean her own best friend wants to steal her life. You could say that because she’s rich they feel she is happy enough to not need fairies. In contrast to Remy, who is also very wealthy, Trixie’s misery comes from things within her control. While his is from parental neglect. She could get better friends but she’s at the age where image is important. She could choose one day to show her true self, but she doesn’t require fairies. Remys had absent parents who shove money in his face to replace love. In return he is vile and resentful. He needs Juandissimo because he otherwise has no one. Tootie is also tortured by Vicky and sometimes left because her parents fear Vicky. I just feel like Tootie is too similar to Timmy so that’s why she doesn’t have fairies. Also Timmy as shitty as it sounds, maybe Tootie is not seen to be as miserable as Timmy. However, Chloe was given fairies which is so confusing smh.

Chloe has fairies for a reason that few can understand, but it makes sense:

I don’t really care for Chloe too much (I like her more than Sparky)I kinda avoid season 10 for animation reasons and her all together. “The fairy shortage” and changing the theme song turned me off so much. The biggest debate and hatred of her is for having fairies and her personality. I’ll be honest I would like her if her personality wasn’t so sugary and annoying. I mean shes described as such a perfectionist that she destroyed her town and has no friends. She doesn’t appear miserable enough. In the beginning, I felt like she was meant to give Timmy a foil and more episode ideas. However, she only succeeded in making Timmy go from jerk with a heart of gold to just selfish and reckless. She makes “ nice” wishes while he makes destruction that is just unnecessary and so unlike previous Timmy. Anyway, Chloe has fairies because she is misunderstood, thus making her lonely. She like Timmy has parents who go off and do whatever. Chloe also seems mentally ill but this may be a stretch. She seems like she suffers because of this perfectionism and what appears to be OCD at times. Thus kids don’t want meet her or be friends leaving her miserable enough to need fairies.

Adults aren’t given fairies due to disbelieve, but rather the maturity of their mind:

According to our fav bitch Da Rules godkids lose their fairies as soon as they reach adulthood unless they violate the rules. This includes revealing the existence of fairies or abuse of magic. Timmy has almost lose Cosmo and Wanda (later Poof) so much so ifykyk. Anways, in cannon Wanda states that children stop believing in fairies so that is their cue to leave and said child gets their memories wiped. This makes sense because it’s easier to convince a child than a cynical adult that fairies exist. (Unless you are mf Denzel Crocker )However, if you’ve had fairies since childhood it’s not about believing but rather maturity. Kids make generally innocent wishes. Some of the kids had issues and wished for WWI (Mary Anne that’s all I’m gonna say), but most were innocent and harmless. Timmy mostly wishes for toys and to not have to clean his room. However, as we age our wishes become more adult like. We wish for money, cheating, and true love. Things Da Rules say are forbidden for fairies to interfere with. When you think about it everything illegal is what adults would think to wish for. Most kids don’t generally care for money outside of buying childlike things. Greedy adults would definitely abuse fairy magic easily. Which is why fairies help kids who’s misery can be solved with simple things that can be wished for.

Timmy keeps getting redeemed because what he has with Cosmo, Wanda and Poof is rare:

Timmy in earlier seasons refers to his godparents as his friends and they appear to just be wish granting companions. They are there to make Timmy’s life easier. In later seasons, they are considered a family on multiple occasions and it’s always implied Timmy loves them more than anything. I feel like even more than his own parents. Poof is not just his god brother but his actual little brother. I mean he even wished for Cosmo and Wanda to have a baby because he saw they were sad. Timmy even has a whole speech on how he doesn’t care if he has magic because he loves the Cosmas. He made the secret wish in order to keep them forever for this reason (Timmy’s secret wish). This is development from (The Zappys )where Timmy has a bond with them but not as powerful as the later seasons. The fairy council and Jorgen have even said they have never seen such love between godparents and godchildren. Timmy loves having magic, but he knows losing his fairies means losing the three people who generally care for him. Fairies don’t have to love their godchildren as seen with Norm when he became one temporarily. They just have to grant their every wish within Da Rules. Cosmo and Wanda stick around because they enjoy Timmy’s company and love him like a son. Sorry to reference the live action movies, but they literally were ok with Tootie getting kidnapped if it meant staying with Timmy. I feel like they would have stayed in the tv with Timmy forever in Channel Chasers tbh. This bond is why FOP has so many different universes that has Timmy keep his fairies till adulthood (like honestly f Da Rules).

Honestly add more because this has been on my mind andnfnkfkf

#fairly oddparents #timmy turner #cosmo and wanda #poof #headcanon #analysis #butch hartman #cartoon #trixie tang #tootie

[televisionboy]

this gif is everything skdjdjfn and this is my first alphabet! so give me love and constructive criticism.

taglist: @punkgeekchic @visionsofsweettea @adoresobs @am4sawa @reblogsfandom @evarolines @somethingstuffy

Timothee Chalamet Fluff Alphabet

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Dates with Timothee are very very comforting and new at the same time. He LOVES getting out of the house and going to a city where shops are lining every corner and small cafes with coffee to die for. But he also loves to cook you dinner and rehash your days. He’s quite a domestic person.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Timothee finds all of you attractive. But his favorite thing to do is whenever you’re reading a book or the two of you are watching TV, and you’re at one end of the couch and he’s at the other end, he loves to run his hands up and down your legs while they rest in his lap. Drumming his fingers against your knees is like a calming thing

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He doesn’t talk, at all. He’s an incredibly patient boyfriend who will sit there with you and sync your breathing while hugging you. He will listen for hours and hours to you talk about it. And if not, he makes tea for you and offers cuddles and comfortable silences. I mean, either way he always makes tea.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He would love a family with you, he knows you’d be an incredible parent to his children. But he’s content being young, having new experiences and getting to be spontaneous. If he had to think about it, he’d like one or two children and maybe a dog. Living in a cozy but spacious home, of course there’s a pool in the back.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

well, when he’s in the mood, jealous/mad he definitely will be dominant (and especially in bed) but he’s in no way so dominant that you will feel like his maid or a child. But he really doesn’t want to consider your relationship to be that way. Both of you are just you and treat each other equally. 

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

He gets cold when he’s fighting with you. Timothee’s a bit like a younger sibling while fighting, he knows how to push your buttons and won’t stop until he see’s a reaction. But he has that guilty feeling wash over him so fast. He’s very very easy to forgive you because how could he say no to someone like you??

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

SO GRATEFUL. He spoils like no other. If you point out that you like a pair of earrings, they’re yours (it doesn’t matter that they’re pure diamonds) you mentioned that you want to see Italy? Tickets booked. And a great thing about him, on top of being a good listener is that he has a great eye. And he picks up on things and is quick to notice them. Which is a big reason he’s so successful in acting. Even if it’s something as simple as washing the dishes so he can relax, to something as kind as making him your very own fan gift.. he melts every time.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Mmm, he certainly tries not to but everyone keeps secrets. There are things that both of you prefer to keep private but he wouldn’t keep something like him kissing another woman a secret.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You’ve inspired him and fueled him to become a stronger actor even if you’re not one yourself. Some of your advice is seriously helpful, and some are unhelpful but hilarious. No matter what you will tell him, he knows you’re waiting at home or even at his set with open arms, waiting for him to win an award and fangirl online to other Timmy fans. It makes him blush and cause a billion butterflies to erupt in his stomach.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He trusts you 100% that you would never leave him, and he doesn’t want to be one of those boyfriends who restricts their partner. But there’s a part of him that’s incredibly insecure and is convinced you can do better. There are some parts that WANT you to leave him and do better. He would never ever show it in public, but you can read him well. You’ll put a hand on his bouncing knee and kiss his jaw.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like? 

He knows he’s a damn good kisser as well as charmer. You had been on a couple of dates with him, on one you mentioned that it was on your bucket list to be kissed in the rain. He made sure to schedule a date when there would be rain and he took you on a picnic. Towards the end, it had started to pour and you were trying to run back to the car but he grabbed your face and kissed you so hard but so passionately. His curls were dripping and the sandwiches were ruined but the feeling was incredible. 

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Rightttt after that kiss, in the car you were drying off and laughing with him while the radio was on in the background. The car was on but he wasn’t driving. Instead, he turned to you and told you he was in love with you. Both of you had said “love you” but never “i’m in love with you”

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He’s on the fence about babies but he knows for certain that he wants to marry you. You know that scene in The Office where Jim shows the engagement ring for Pam and is like “I got it 3 weeks into dating”? That’s Timmy. 

He brings you to a premire of one of his movies and at the end when all the credit’s are rolling, it says “y/n will you marry me?” and when you turn back around, Timmy is on one knee and Armie is most likely behind him crying his eyes out. 

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

“Babe” “Baby” “Mon cherie” When you two are married, he’ll join you in the kitchen while cooking dinner and call you “Mrs Chalamet” before kissing your shoulder and beginning to chop veggies. It’s just incredibly domestic 

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

so so so obvious and so in love. He shows you off as much as possible and talks about you on talk shows until he’s sure that the audience is annoyed and SNL mocks him (and even then, he’ll continue)

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

he brags but he does know when to dial it back for your own privacy and humility. BUT that doesn’t mean he won’t hold your hand in public, or banter with you on a twitter thread even if you both are right next to each other on the couch playing footsie

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He has a great eye and is quick to pick up on things. It’s almost as if he has certain senses and can tell when you’re having a bad day or upset. He just knows. It’s incredible. He’ll run you a bath and order cake to indulge yourself in before you even get home.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

The most sickley, fluffy, romantic, boyfriend that it makes me sick. Timothee would dye his hair rainbow and cut of his toes if it meant you would smile. On a more romantic note, he pulls out all the stops but it’s a bit more subtle?? Like he is very romantic but it’s not overwhelming. There’s no string quartet and private dining room but there will be jazz and dancing at midnight or a homemade “restaurant” with Timothee as a one man (messy) staff but it’s the best thing you could have ever come home to

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He’s your head cheerleader and the most selfless human ever. Will cheer for you until his voice goes mute and even then, he’s the one clapping the loudest and crying the most. 

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

both! Timothee is like a dog in some ways. He’s energetic and needs new things, to be outside, to be social. But he craves hugs and cuddling, he adores late night talks with you or watching you make him breakfast while he scrolls through Instagram. Like I said, a very domestic guy.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He know’s you like the back of his hand and he could spot you with his eyes closed and only by feeling your face. He knows your habits, and the food you hate, your terrible cooking skills, and the kind of dad jokes you tell, the anxiety ticks, and what shows you’ll watch over and over again.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

He’d go insane without you. You’re addictive because you have a pure heart and a dirty mind and he falls in love the more you show that. He brings you back the weirdest things that remind him of you. Stationary cards with odd quotes, an antique necklace from the 40′s, peach earrings (because he enables your teasing)

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He’s like the real version of “JOEY DOESN’T SHARE FOOD” but a little more loving lol “I love you, but I’m willing to defend my fries”

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I said that he’s like a puppy! he needs kisses and scratches to his head (free scalp massage) and he’s a clingy puppy too. i mean, look at his eyes for the love of god. 

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

he aches so bad. He is your cheerleader but he can’t function without you. You’re his cup of coffee, an antidepressant. He’s fangirling inside for your new project but when he sees your mug or reaches to bring you close to his chest and you’re not there, he’s unable to fall asleep or make a cup of coffee.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’d travel to Mars and back if you asked him to. Just ask him, and he does it. One time, he was working on a movie with an actress who was quite snippy to you and he quit immediately, feeling incredibly guilty and nauseous. He got you very  expensive lox and bagels one morning because you were whining about it the previous night. He doesn’t want to close his eyes at night because there’s so many things he wants to do before he goes on to the next day. But when he closes his eyes at night, it’s all you, you, you, you, you and how much he’s overwhelmed with total adoration for you

#timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet icons #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet smut #fluff #fluff alphabet #x reader #x you

[striveattemptfail]

Dicky Claus | Eric Bittle and Bittle-Phelps Family, G, 1.3k

Summary: One of the older Bittle-Phelps cousins observes Dicky during Christmas. Inspired by @atlasthemayor’s art for the OMGSP Secret Santa Exchange.

Read on Ao3

A/N: This was supposed to be ~500 words of headcanon rambling and instead it turned into 1.3k of Christmases with the Bittle-Phelps family, whoops /o\ (Not like I can help it though—Atlas’ art is so dang cute!! Thank you so much again for the adorableness 🥰🥰)

Shout out to @lemonitswed for the quick beta! All other mistakes are mine.

————————————————————

• • • December 25, 2011 • • •

Emma Phelps may not be the oldest cousin in the family, but she ain’t a dumb 13-year-old either.

The guy in the middle of the living room is very obviously Dicky in a poor-fitting Santa suit stuffed with a throw pillow. His blond hair is peeking out from beneath the Santa hat, the beard is way too loose, and he keeps pulling up the pants despite having a belt on.

(Her Papa couldn’t be Santa this year—and, yes, she also knew that Santa was just Papa in a suit too—because he couldn’t fit into the pants anymore. Obviously, Mama just gave it to Dicky for some reason.)

Some of the other, younger cousins ooh and ahh as if Santa’s really in the room with them, so Emma rolls her eyes. Fourth grader Anna-May looks skeptical and sixth grader Timmy looks like he’d rather play the Xbox on Uncle Rick’s giant new TV. Otherwise, everybody else seems delighted by Dicky’s attempts at a sad-looking Santa Claus.

“Now,” Dicky tries in a deeper voice (he’s failing at it), “I know y’all left me cookies last night for Christmas Eve, but because y’all’ve been such good boys and girls, I decided to bring something for y’all too!”

This catches Emma’s attention.

She watches quietly as Dicky brings forward something wrapped in red fabric before dramatically pulling the fabric away to reveal a container underneath.

Emma knows that shape from anywhere—that’s Aunt Suzanne’s cookie jar!

“It’s only fair if y’all gave me cookies that I give y’all cookies too, don’t cha think!” Dicky smiles bright, giggling a little by the end of his sentence.

The younger cousins squeal loudly (even Anna-May and Timmy), jumping over each other to reach for the cookies before Dicky lifts his arms up.

“Now, now, y’all,” he says, keeping the jar away from grabby hands, “I’m going to the kitchen so everyone gets one. Line up like the good boys and girls I know y’all are and I’ll hand ‘em out.”

They all do so obediently, lining up in a single file. At some point, Mama and Aunt Suzanne help out Dicky by passing around tissues and milk. Emma joins the line at the very end, making sure to wait for everyone else to get theirs first like she’s always done during family gatherings.

(“You and Dicky are the oldest, Em,” she remembers Mama saying many years ago, “so that means y’all need to set a good example for the younger kids, alright?”

“Of course, Mama!” she had replied.

Turns out being a “good example” means being patient while Mama serves food and the others get their share first.)

When she finally reaches Dicky, he greets her, “Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, Emma!”

She takes the two cookies he passes to her with a knowing smile. Leaning close, she whispers to him, “Dicky, I know that’s just you in Papa’s old suit.”

Dicky blushes beneath his fake beard, bringing a finger to his lips to shush her.

“Don’t tell anyone!” he quietly begs her, big brown eyes frantic.

Emma laughs. “Don’t worry, Santa,” she says conspiratorially, excited to be in on something, “your secret’s safe with me.”

Walking away, she tries to hide her own blush. Even though she’s sharing a secret with Dicky and the other adults, she’s still kinda embarrassed she lined up with the little kids like she’s still one of them. She’s practically in high school now! She shouldn’t be lining up with the other kids—she should be with Dicky at the adult table! Or something.

But when she bites into the cookie (chocolate chip with cream frosting, the perfect balance of crunchy and chewy, and basically better than any cookie from Piggly Wiggly) she thinks to herself that maybe hanging out with the younger kids a little longer ain’t so bad after all.

————————————————————

• • • December 25, 2016 • • •

This Christmas, someone new helps Santa with cookies.

She knows it’s Jack Zimmermann—that famous hockey player Dicky kissed on TV in front of the whole world, their mama, and God—but Emma still can’t believe her eyes.

Him and Dicky stroll into the living room dressed as an elf and Santa respectively.

Over the years, Dicky lost the pillow to fill out the suit and gave up trying to hide his hair under the hat. The suit fits better now that he’s grown more and he’s made lots of adjustments so things stopped falling. This lanky version of Santa is a sight that Emma’s used to.

What she’s not used to is his giant boyfriend dressed in an elf’s costume decked out in green and red, looking awkward but smiling nonetheless.

Dicky makes a show about handing out cookies to everyone as he does every Christmas, except now with Jack helping him instead of Aunt Suzanne and Mama. Emma lines up at the very end as she always does because she’s grown out of being embarrassed by her family and because she’d never turn down Dicky’s homemade sweets.

Once everyone gets their share, she stands off to the side and watches quietly as Dicky passes off the empty cookie jar to Aunt Suzanne.

“He’s good at that, eh?”

Emma looks away to find Jack at her side, watching Aunt Suzanne and Dicky as well. He towers over her a good head and shoulders, so she has to tilt her head up to look at him properly. Good Lord, Dicky chose a tall one.

“Good at what?”

Jack tosses his head in Dicky’s direction, who’s now serving seconds. “Being with little kids.”

She chuckles. “Yeah! Dicky’s been herdin’ us cousins around since he was in high school. He loves the li’l ones to bits, even if everybody knows that it’s just Dicky.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Everyone already knows it’s him?”

She shoots him a bit of a dubious look—yeah, duh, she almost says.

“Of course we know it’s him,” she replies instead. “Even Bobby, and he’s only five. Ain’t no Santa slippin’ out a ‘y’all’ every other sentence.”

Jack laughs at that.

“And Dicky’s always been on the smaller side,” she continues, “so once he gave up stuffing the suit with pillows it was kinda obvious.”

“I guess so,” he agrees with a nod. “It’s just kind of, you know, funny that no one says anything about it.”

Emma grins. “Well, Dicky Claus is the only Santa I know that gives out cookies instead of the other way around, and who’d complain about that?”

Jack just laughs again.

She and Jack keep up friendly chatter until Aunt Suzanne calls out, “Dicky, Jack! Can y’all come over here for some pictures, please? I wanna get y’all in your costumes!”

Emma brings out her phone, standing in the middle of the hoard who are undoubtedly more focused on trying to take photos of Jack Zimmermann at the Bittle residence than they are of his and Dicky’s costumes. The pair stand together with warm smiles despite the growing commotion, one arm wrapped around the other’s waist.

“Y’all can change poses, y’know!” someone (her Papa?) yells, prompting laughter from a few people.

With a chuckle of his own, Jack then lifts Dicky up onto one shoulder, causing Dicky and everyone in the room to start hollering.

“Jack Zimmermann! You put me down right this instant—AH!”

“Junior, quit wrigglin’ around or Jack’ll drop you.”

“Come on, just smile, Dicky!”

“WOOH, nice lift, Jack!”

“Oh, honey, hold onto this for the pictures, it’ll look great!”

“Daddy, the elf is carrying Santa!”

Emma can pick out Jack and Dicky’s carefree laughter among the chaos, unable to help her own smile. Jack adjusts his grip as Dicky resigns to settle in on his shoulder, and the two of them look more comfortable than Emma had seen all day.

“Yeah, Bits, just smile!”

“Oh hush, you!”

“Y’all keep still now!” Emma calls out. “Three, two, one—”

Click!

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #check please #zimbits #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #bittle family #omgcp oc #jercy attempts words #fanfiction #fanfic #don't forget to give love to atlas for the cute art!!

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift Part 1 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: Frankie has taken the job as the overnight cook at Lou’s Diner, where you work as the overnight waitress. Attraction slowly grows between you, despite both your best efforts. (18+ series)

Warnings: None for this part

Tags: Slowburn, diner romance, age gap (7 years)

Word count: 1.1k

Part 2

It was a slow night at Lou's Diner. But then again, Tuesday’s were usually pretty slow. There was only one customer, a night construction worker who had been coming in for the past three weeks for a bacon and egg sandwich. You watched at the clock ticked past 3:34AM, contemplating if it would be a good idea to have another cup of coffee. Your shift finished at 5:30, when the day crew came and the breakfast rush was just getting started. Can’t hurt, you reasoned with yourself, grabbing your favourite mug. The employees of the diner had their own mugs separate from the customers - most of them were old and had stains that couldn’t be washed out. 

“Hey, Manny, wanna coffee?” you called into the kitchen to the night cook. Manny was your only co-worker after 9, when everyone else left for the night. But it was his last night, and you hadn’t met his replacement yet. 

“You know how I like it, lover!” he called back. The nickname had become his favourite for you after a rumour swirled saying you and him were fucking in the chiller. Manny put that right to rest after introducing everyone to his husband. 

You made up a mug for each of you, adding five spoons of sugar for his. You had asked him once why he didn’t just have a soda if he wanted that much sugar, and Manny had told you that soda made him gassy in an unsatisfying way. You decided not to prod any further.

“Have you met the new guy?” Manny asked through the window as you set the steaming cup down upon it. You shook your head.

“Have you?”

“Yeah, I had to show him some night procedures last week. He’s not too bad, a quick learner. Easy on the eyes. Not as good as me, so don’t get any ideas about replacing me as number one diner cook in your heart.” Manny winked.

“Number one diner cook and now number one history teacher.” You grinned at him, swelling with pride that his hard work had paid off and now he was going off to his dream job. Many nights working together, quizzing him on various aspects of whatever he was studying. “What’s the newbie’s name?”

“Francisco,” Manny said, “but he said to call him Frankie.”

You nodded, filing the information for later. You didn’t think too much about Manny’s other comment - easy on the eyes. Honestly, with Manny that could mean anything. 

You spent the rest of your shift the way you usually did, cleaning and dealing with friendly old men who sometimes felt a little too friendly. You mostly let it slide, they tipped better when you flirted back, but sometimes the men felt a little too slimy.

The first rays of grey pre-dawn light started to peek through the windows and the breakfast rush began. You didn’t think of much beyond making it through the next half hour, and making sure you didn’t fuck any orders up. 

Your saving grace was Marissa tapping you gently on your shoulder.

“Time to head out, kiddo,” the older woman said. Marissa was your second favourite person at the diner, and you felt it had a lot to do with the fact she was the person to end your shift. That, and she reminded you of your grandmother. You didn’t waste a second, giving Marissa a quick kiss on her cheek and taking your nametag off. 

Manny was waiting for you outside in the back alley, cigarette in one hand and car keys in the other. 

“Come on, lover, let’s get you home.” He linked his arm through yours and you walked to his car together. He had affectionately dubbed it Carrie, after Carrie Fisher and Carrie the movie. 

You spent the car ride imagining movies Michael Cera could have been in to exponentially improve the quality of the movie.

“Okay,” Manny said, “instead of Timmy Chateu in Call Me By Your Name.”

You snorted at the image and at Manny’s ever ridiculous names for celebrities. “Perfect! Oh, replace Brad Pitt in Fight Club!”

“Michael Cera could do Tyler Durden, but Bradley could never do Scott Pilgrim.” Manny nodded seriously as he spoke. “God, I should be a casting director.”

All too soon, he was pulling up outside your apartment complex and against your will tears were pricking at your eyes.

“Jesus, are you crying?” Manny leant over to get a better look at you. “I’m not dying!”

“I’m gonna miss you,” a sob caught in your throat.

“We’re seeing each other on Sunday! Get a hold of yourself!” 

“It’s not gonna be the same!”

“Of course it’s not, but you’ve got to calm down. Take a deep breath with me, okay? In and out, just like that. Now look at me, we’re seeing each other on Sunday, and this new guy can’t be too bad otherwise Lou wouldn’t have hired him.”

You nodded, drying your tears on the sleeve of your shirt. “You’re right, you’re right. Okay, I love you, I’ll see you Sunday.”

Manny gave your hand one last squeeze and you decided it was finally time to go to bed.

~*~

Frankie didn’t know what drew him to the diner job. Since his army days, he had jumped from job to job, never staying more than a couple years. He liked working with his hands, never wanted too much responsibility, and wanted something that would leave him tired enough that we wouldn’t dream when he went to sleep.

The owner of the diner had asked if he’d had any experience as a cook, and when Frankie said that he was left in charge of the barbeque at all functions he went to, Lou shrugged and said “good enough.”

After shaking his hand, Lou had told him there were only three rules he cared about. Number one was do not harass the female staff, sexually or otherwise. Simple enough to follow, Frankie figured, for any decent human. The second rule was not to steal from the registers. Staff got food and coffee for free, within reason. And the third, was to try to avoid fighting with customers, but Lou would understand if it was necessary. 

There wasn’t a uniform, so Frankie wore what he would’ve on any other night - jeans and a flannel over a plain tee, and of course his cap.

Frankie arrived ten minutes before his shift started, looking at the clock on the dash of his truck. He was a little nervous, but that always came with the first day of a new job. The nerves mainly related to whether or not the person he was supposed to work with would be at the very least, nice. He was only thirty-three, but already he felt too old to be part of any workplace pettiness. 

Finally, the clock ticked to five minutes before his shift started. The sun was low in the sky and the truck had become chilly with the impending night. Straightening his cap, Frankie stepped into the warmth of the diner.

#frankie morales x reader #Frankie Morales #triple frontier