#and it was like a huge communication of power i love shit like that

[jasmines-library]

Hey!!! I love your writing and I want to request a Batfam where the reader (youngest sister) went into a coma and then wakes up after two months of many complications.

Sorry if the request sounds weird and unclear😅

Wait For You.

Summary: Whilst trying to protect your brother on a patrol, an explosive causes you to fall into a coma. Your brother stick by you through your recovery.

Warnings: Explosives, injury/blood, coma.

Word Count: 2k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Things had gotten bad quickly. You and Tim were supposed to be out on an easy patrol. Gotham was quiet for once, so you and your older brother Tim decided to let your brothers have the night off for once. Oh boy was that a bad idea. You should have taken the unusual silence as a warning, as a huge red flag being waved right in front of your faces, but you were all too naive over the fact that patrol would be easy. But as soon as you had suited up and slipped out of your cave, shit hit the fan.

It started with two perfectly timed robberies on opposite sides of the city. You had to admit that you were slightly suspicious, but it wasn’t anything uncommon for a crime riddled city like Gotham and it was nothing you couldn’t handle, so you split off from your brother and went to deal promptly with the criminals before handing them off to the police to deal with. But then, as you were on the way to meet Tim, things got worse. The entire city lost power. One by one the street lights flickered off and the billboards shut down, plunging the city into complete darkness, besides the full moon that grinned down on the skyscrapers, but provided very little light to the ground.

“Red? You there?” You called out through the coms, hoping that the power outage hadn’t affected your signal. 

There was a moment of gut-wrenching silence before the sound of his voice crackled through the static. The signal was compromised, but not enough so that the two of you couldn’t communicate with the rest of the cave. “I’m here. Where are you?”

“Near the Cauldron, making my way towards China Town.”

“Copy. I’ll meet you there, be careful Raven.”

“I’ll try.” You said, making your way through the derelict streets, heading towards the red bunting that hung above ChinaTown as another voice crackled through the coms.

“Patrol, this is Oracle. Can you hear us?”

You hummed. 

“Good. We lost you for a moment when the power went out. What happened?”

“We’re not sure yet. I’m about to rendezvous with Red. We’ll see what we can find.”

“Alright. Stay on the line.”

“Copy.”

You rounded the corner where you saw Tim sprinting towards you. He gripped you tight and checked you over for any injuries. 

“You okay?”

“Fine.” You nodded. “Any idea what happened?”

He shook his head. “No, but it can’t mean anything good. We were separated before this happened so this has definitely been planned. Someone is trying to separate us.”

“Yeah, but who?”

“I don’t know. We need to get looking and send for backup.”

“Oracle,” Tim voiced into his com “We’re gonna need some backup. Something’s definitely happening and we-”

A building to your left exploded, sending sparks of debris all around you with a plume of smoke. 

“Raven run!” Tim yelled as more buildings began to collapse around you, forcing the two of you to run as fast as you could until you reached a small clearing and the sound of the explosions seemed to have stopped. 

You skidded to a halt, trying to catch your breath and soothe the burn in your legs when you saw it. A small red light blinking rapidly just to Tim’s right. But he was facing the other way and there was no way he was going to see it and get out of the way. The light flashed faster and faster as you dove forwards, knocking your brother out of the way with a shout of his name. 

You tackled him out of the way and onto the concrete just before the explosive detonated just inches away from where he was standing. The force of it sent the two of you flying across the asphalt. You let out a small scream that was cut short by the pain that radiated across your body; cuts and blistering burns that had managed to burn their way through parts of your suit before your head collided with the ground and everything went blank. 

Tim hauled himself to his feet, scanning the ash filled sky and limping towards where he had seen your body get flung to. His heart stopped when he saw you laying bloody and unconscious on the ground. 

“Raven!” He cried, picking up his pace and falling just short of your side. Crawling the rest of the way, he gripped your suit, noting the sticky red that seeped slowly into your hair. “No. No. Raven wake up.”

He patted your face urgently, but you did not stir; you lay limp in his arm, your head lolling on the ground as he tried to shake you awake. “No. Not like this, Raven come on!”

He was crying now, his tears leaving little trails where they had washed away all of the soot that had landed on his face. He placed his head to your chest to listen to your shallow breathing before hauling you onto his lap. He was injured too, and the motion hurt him greatly, but he brushed it aside as he clung to you. “Open your eyes Y/N! Please!” He sobbed.

“NO!” He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone lay a gloved hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer to his chest as his head whipped around. His eyes met the blue of Dicks domino mask. 

“What happened!” He asked, alerted by the sight of your bloody frame lying limp in his brother's arms.

“Another explosion. She-” Tim couldn’t speak. It was like his body had forgotten how to function. 

Dick nodded, grimacing slightly before calling to Jason over his shoulder. “Hood, call B. Get him to send emergency evac and tell him to prepare the medbay. 

He nodded, pailing at the sight of you. 

“Red, you need to let her go.” Dick told Tim.

“No.” He repeated. “No it’s my fault I can’t.”

“Timmy, we need to get her to help and we need to get you checked out too.”

He shook his head, clutching you closer.

“Robin.” 

Damian made his way over, lifting his brother's arms away from you and holding him back as Dick lifted you carefully to rush you back to the cave. 

~

You were still not awake. 

Two months had slowly dragged by and you were still lifeless. You didn’t move; not even a twitch of a hand. You just lay there, your chest rising and falling steadily. If Tim, who refused to leave your side most of the time, could get the image of your fragile body out of his head, he might have thought you were sleeping.

Most of your wounds had healed well and all of your stitches had been removed recently, but your skin was still scarred and littered with a few bandages to cover the nasty burns, but for the most part your body had healed. 

But then there were all of the tubes and the vigilantes honestly weren’t sure what was worse; seeing you covered in bandages, or seeing you hooked up to a network of tubes that were keeping you alive. Your IV rack sat next to your bed. They had moved you there not long after you had been treated. They knew how much you hated being in the hospital and Damian had insisted that they move you. He had even threatened to do it on his own if no one helped. 

Most days, they all took turns to watch over you, anticipating anything. Dreading the worst. Jason was by your side after forcing Tim to finally shower and catch some sleep, telling him that you wouldn’t want him to waste away like he was. But Tim couldn’t help it. Guilt was eating him up from the inside out. It didn’t take long for them to figure out the cause of the explosions. The Joker and Penguin had allegedly teamed up to kill Batman and the vigilantes. It was their plan all along to separate the five of you so that you were easier to take out, so when you and Tim regrouped they changed their plan and resorted to explosives and you had pushed him out of the way because he was too stupid to notice that there was something behind him and now you were unresponsive. His brothers had tried to tell him otherwise, but he was stubborn and spent all of his time sitting next to you. Dick practically had to drag him out of your room to get him to go to sleep. 

Jason was holding one of your hands and awkwardly flicking through a book with the other as he read to you. He tended to do that alot to pass the time and to bring some comfort. He honestly didn’t know if you could hear him or not but he read anyway. 

It was then that you groaned and he dropped the book in a second. Leaning closer to you he could see that you were scrunching your face up slightly, bringing your eyebrows downwards. 

“Little wing?” He whispered gently.

His heart leapt when he felt your fingers twitch ever so slightly under his and for a moment he thought that you were going to open your eyes but you stilled again. However after watching for a moment, Jason leapt out of his chair and ran downstairs to tell your family.

When he reached the cave, he was met by a very upset looking Tim and a frustrated Damian, who was trying to convince his older brother to go back to bed. 

“Why the hell aren’t you with her?!” Tim snapped “You can’t just leave her on her own-”

“She moved.”

~

You could hear voices but you couldn’t see. Everything was dark but you could hear the familiar tones of their voices murmuring across the room. You urged your eyes to open, but they felt like they were glued shut and then taped over. 

“Come on kid. You can do it.” You heard from somewhere.

You fought against yourself, willing for your eyes to open or for your body to move. And then your finger twitched. And then another. 

“Did you see that!?” Damian exclaimed, pointing to your hand.

You then managed to move your head ever so slightly to the left, eliciting many excited gasps as your brothers crowded round, willing for you to wake up. Ever since Jason had seen you first move you had been making quick progress in your recovery. Your body began to respond to their touch or to their voice, but you had never seemingly moved on your own until now. 

“Open your eyes, little wing. You can do it.” Tim. You knew without even seeing him. 

Tim. You realised suddenly. He was okay. 

And then you did it, you finally managed to crack your eyes open slightly only to be assaulted by the light. You blinked as you adjusted to it, the blurring figures in front of you finally coming into focus. 

“There she is.” Dick smiled. 

“Hey y/n/n.” Tim said. You noticed he was holding your hand and rubbing circles on the back of it with his thumb. 

You moved your mouth to try and speak, but you struggled to form the words. 

“Take your time.” Damian propted gently. 

You tried again, managing to push a hoarse whisper out with a little smile. “Hi.”

The five of your brothers lit up with the biggest smiles that had in forever as they fussed over you, helping to ease you up and to pull you into their embrace. Glad to have their little sister back with them again. 

#batfam x reader #batfam x sister reader #batfam x injured reader #batfam x injured sister reader #batfamily x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #Dick Grayson x injured reader #Dick Grayson x little sister reader #Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #jason todd x injured reader #jason todd x sister reader #jason todd x little sister reader #Tim Drake #Tim Drake x reader #tim drake x injured reader #tim drake x sister reader #tim drake x little sister reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x injured reader #damian wayne x sister reader #damian wayne x little sister reader #nightwing #red hood #red robin #robin #dc x reader #angst #hurt

[moonstruckme]

Hello:) maybe this a weird request ahah but I just got my n1pples pierced and I just know Sirius would go crazy for them, but what about James and Remus? Could you write something about poly!marauders (or whoever you think fits the most!) and Reader with those kind of piercings?

I'm sorry if this is too much or too personal! Thank you for your time<3

Hi lovely, you're so right! I decided to go with James because I think he'd be the most mystified by them, so I hope that's alright. Thanks for requesting :)

cw: pg-13 level smut

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 609 words

You’ve chosen a sheer top on purpose, so you can’t say you’re entirely surprised when James’ eyes go straight to your tits upon seeing you. 

“Baby.” The word comes out of him like an exhale, and you smile. “What’s happened to your nipples?”

You laugh. “They’re piercings, Jamie. It was intentional, I swear.” 

“You can pierce your nipples?” His eyes are huge behind his glasses, flitting between your chest and your face like he’s not sure where to look. “When did you have it done?”

“Last week,” you say. “I was waiting until they weren’t sore to show you.” 

“It’s so…hot.” James steps closer, transfixed. “I—wait.” He touches his fingertips to one corner of his mouth. “Am I drooling? I think I’m drooling.” You laugh again, and he grins at you, wrapping a big hand around either side of your waist. “Shit, sweetheart, they look so good. How long ‘til I can bite ‘em?”

Your expression sours. “Months. They take forever to fully heal.” 

“That’s okay,” he says quickly, eager to rid you of your frown, “it makes sense that they would. Can I touch them?”

“Yeah,” you say, and James’ hands waste no time in slipping under your top, feeling upwards. “Just, be gentle for now, please,” you add hastily. 

He slows, probing carefully at the area around your nipples and watching your face for a reaction. “Do they hurt?” he asks, brows knitted in concern. 

You shake your head. “Not a lot. Not as much as they did at first.” 

He pouts at you, thumbs finding the cool metal and feeling about the piercings with curious, gentle touches. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, you should’a had me come with you.” 

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you say, and James smiles, dipping his head to kiss you. “Anyway, it was worth it.” 

“It is a great surprise,” he agrees. You chase him for more, pushing up on your tiptoes and taking his face in your hand. James’ grip tightens on your tits, careful not to push too hard near your piercings, but when his thumb brushes lightly over your nipple, you gasp.

He pulls back instantly. “Shit,” he says, hands sliding down to your sides, “I’m so sorry, baby. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you laugh. “No, the opposite.” James looks confused, and your grin turns bashful as you explain. “They’re still hurting a bit right now, but once they’ve healed enough that you can really touch them, they’re supposed to be more sensitive.” You give him a look, hoping he’ll catch your meaning. 

He does, his face lighting up. “You’re kidding.” 

You laugh. “I’m not.” 

James places a hand over his eyes and tilts his head back, as though communing with some higher power. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says. 

“The best thing?” you tease. “Christ, Potter, they’re just tits. I thought I was supposed to be the best thing that ever happened to you.” 

“Oh, don’t start with me, sweetness.” James’ hand falls from his eyes, revealing pupils that nearly eclipse his irises. He starts for you, and you giggle, retreating until the backs of your legs hit the bed. “I’ve got months to show you how much I love you,” he says, grabbing you by the waist. You squeal, writhing in his grip as he buries his face in your neck. Even when you both fall backwards onto the bed James doesn’t relent, keeping you pinned beneath him while he kisses sloppily at your jaw, your shoulder, leaving spit and bite marks in his wake. “Months and months, before I get to show you how much I love them too.”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter smut #james potter scenario #james potter drabble #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter imagine #the marauders #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #the marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #hp marauders #marauders fandom

[arvandus]

Thinking about how adorably awkward Diavolo is, but also how sad he is too. This guy grew up super isolated with a father that neglected him, a “friend” that was obligated to play with him and cater to his every whim, and essentially raised by an ancient time demon that he “bullied” into serving him.

This poor guy has never ever had a single person be around him/with him by choice. Imagine what that does to him, to his self-esteem. The only one who has been with him by choice is Barbatos, but every now and then, Diavolo will doubt even that much, considering how he had “forced” him into serving him when he was younger (logically he knows Barbatos could have refused him; he was powerful enough to… but even then, the doubt lingers).

On top of that, he’s trying to join the three realms in a peaceful way, which I would guess not everyone in the Devildom is okay with.

Even when the angels fell, and Lucifer requested his help, Diavolo did it on the condition that Lucifer (and by proxy his brothers) serve him and the Devildom. Because even though they may have been somewhat friends (remember Diavolo planted an apple tree for Lucifer when he was still an angel), Diavolo had to act as a prince first, setting his own personal desires aside. His help would come at a price.

Everything he does is so motivated by this deep-rooted loneliness, forced by his position and power, and the choices he has to make because of it, keeping him isolated from others.

This persistent isolation and always being served by others has left a huge deficit in his people/relationship skills. The wild shit he says or does when interacting with those he cares about isn’t even intended to cross boundaries or rile them up half the time. He genuinely means it in the most innocent way. He hasn’t exactly learned what’s appropriate and what’s not appropriate (after all, the only friend he had was Mephisto, who worships the ground he walks on and never tells him no to anything). So he’s learning that now, albeit a bit late. He really just gets an idea that sounds nice in his head, inspired by his love and respect for that person, and says it out loud in an effort to deepen his relationship (ie, friendship) with them. And fortunately for him, Lucifer is able to be patient enough with him and maintain those boundaries as he figures out all of the nuances of socially and culturally acceptable communication and relationship building.

That’s not to say that there aren’t times where Diavolo doesn’t say or do things on purpose with the intent of giving others a hard time. He’ll definitely say things to get under Lucifer’s skin; he likes to fluster him, and for Diavolo, even bad attention is better than no attention. But I think there’s also another purpose to it, albeit subconsciously, in that it allows him to experience healthy boundaries which he never had when he was younger. Lucifer has no problem saying no to him, even at times when Barbatos doesn’t (Barbatos is strict, but he’ll also dote on Diavolo at times too, in a motherly way). It allows Diavolo to feel equal with Lucifer, more friends/comrades than ruler/oath-bound servant.

It’s also the same reason (partially) why he tries to escape his work half the time, or will come up with wild ideas that Barbatos has to say no to. He likes pushing (just a little) against the boundaries placed by others in order to meet that resistance. In a weird way it’s how he knows that they genuinely care about him rather than simply serve him out of obligation. They tell him no when he needs to hear it, but they’re also forgiving.

He’s always known he’s not perfect, yet he was treated like he was for so long. It created a dissonance between who he was told he was versus how he was experiencing himself. Now, he’s allowed to experience, understand, and accept his own imperfections through those closest to him and how they respond to him when they maintain their boundaries. It validates his own self perception of being imperfect while also allowing room for growth and understanding that the imperfections are acceptable/allowed to be there.

I think the last lingering doubt of others’ genuine love for him is the fact that they literally cannot leave him, at least not without consequences. Sure, they can disagree, even fight him. But in the end, he’s the prince, and they’re bound to him by duty and oaths. If they weren’t bound, would they still stay and continue to be there for him? Or are they merely tolerating him? It’s an insecurity that still plagues him.

Anyway… not sure where I was going with this. Brain is just stuck ruminating on it. He’s such an interesting character, I love him so much.

#arvandus rambles #obey me #obey me Nightbringer #Diavolo #obey me Diavolo #Diavolo obey me #om diavolo #diavolo om

[shima-draws]

I've been teasing her for months!! But at long last her ref is complete 🌷

I actually DON'T have a 5 page essay on her backstory this time (like I did for Ilari LMAO) but I do have some info about her if anybody is curious!

Name: Ione

Age: 25

Hair color: Silver

Eye color: Orangish-yellow

Element: Light

Grabbing info from the few posts I've talked about her already, Ione was originally a very famous singer, pretty much an idol within the world of ATS. She'd hold huge concerts that were always sold out and people from around the world would flock to see her perform. Eventually tho all of the attention started to attract the wrong kinds of people, and sooner or later Ione was "scouted" by a very rich man who wanted her all to himself. She was manipulated and blackmailed into signing a contract with him that would essentially end her touring and make it so that she would become a private singer for him. He basically chained her with this contract and so she disappeared from the public eye.

Ione soon discovered that other people with similar talents had also been gathered and trapped by this man's contracts. Among them was a prodigy violin player who she grew very close with. The two of them struggled under the demands of this man, and eventually violin boy started to get physically abused by him 😭 Things escalated to the point where Ione decided she wanted OUT and was determined to do anything to escape. This led to a very...traumatic event that caused her to go mute by choice.

When Ione finally makes her escape, thankfully she's changed so much that people don't recognize her in public (mostly her hair! It used to be short and didn't cover one of her eyes before). Shortly after she runs into Nahu and his group, and is unceremoniously recruited to join them lol (Nahu can be VERY persuasive). Ione communicates with them through sign language, which luckily a couple of them are fluent in--Ezio and Sage to be specific. They then teach the others in the group sign language too. It takes Nahu a bit to get the hang of it bc he has like, no attention span whatsoever, but being a dragon elemental helps since his senses are super attuned all the time, so he can generally tell what Ione is feeling and what she's trying to convey when she talks to him :")

Over time Ione grows closer with them, and like everybody else is hit with the Found Family, and realizes that yeah. She'd do absolutely ANYTHING for this group of crazy weirdos. She starts to fall in love with Nahu (bc who WOULDN'T), and slowly gains the courage to use her voice again. This leads to secret meetings with Sage, who helps her relearn how to use her vocal cords.

Eventually her past catches up with her, of course, but the group all bands together to set her free from it. She has to face off against violin boy, who thought she'd abandoned him and got Messed Up Mentally as a result, so THAT'S a thing she's gotta deal with. But she's able to reach him by singing for the first time in over five years, and everyone absolutely loses their shit at how beautiful her voice is and they all cry and it’s very emotional!!

Even after regaining her voice she still prefers to stay quiet most of the time, as that is what she's comfortable with, but she's totally okay with speaking when she needs to. Also I need to mention this but bc she used to be like. An idol. Obviously her routines consisted of both song and dance so she's a pretty good dancer. Out of everyone in the group, Ione is the ONLY person Ezio will dance with (and he is a very VERY good dancer himself, but will only dance with someone who can keep up with him, which Ione can). Everyone is very jealous of this, ESPECIALLY Nahu lol bc he wants to dance with Ezio too 😂

Ione's a light elemental! I haven't given a LOT of thought into her powers yet but I do know that her singing makes her stronger and also gives her powers a boost, which in turn helps the rest of the group. She also can ride on these light waves--I will have to draw them sometime bc I can't really explain them in words, it'd be better to show them visually lol

And that's her!! My flower light mute girl <33333

#Original character #Character art #Character design #Fantasy #Flowers #Character reference #OC art #Art #Digital art #Shima arts #Shima's OCs #Among the Stars #ATS #Ione #IDK HOW ELSE TO TAG THIS ONE LOL #shima-draws

[unbidden-yidden]

I know this is asking people to like, have basic empathy and therefore asking way too much, but I'd just really love if before you [general] comment anything on the current Israel/Palestine situation, you considered how you would react if the roles were reversed.

If, for example, Israeli extremists raped and butchered their way through Gaza (or the West Bank) killing 1200 Palestinian men, women, and children who had been peacefully hanging out observing a religious holiday or sleeping, and especially if they had caught the whole damn thing on film and broadcasted it and celebrated it as if this was some huge win for Jews instead of the biggest chillul Hashem possible - just think about how people would have reacted. And what if they hadn't? What if the entire Western left, up to and including the United fucking Nations had denied the sexual violence and torture? Y'all would be pretty rightfully livid, no?

And let's be honest about how the global Jewish community would react if 23,000 Jews were killed for literally any reason whatsoever. Even if they were all adult male soldiers in active combat, never mind if they were non-combatants or children? We'd shit bricks. It would not feel neutral or not targeted, no matter how objectively true that might be. As it is, every Jew I know is one degree or less of separation from someone directly affected by the October 7th attacks and that's a with a maximum of 1500 casualties and hostages involved. Can you imagine if it were 23,000? We would all be sitting shiva, with no one to answer amen during Kaddish. The reality is that killing a large amount of people from a small minority that has been persecuted throughout its history cannot be a neutral act.

Anyway please I'm begging people to reverse the roles for four seconds to re-humanize the people on the "other" side. Because the truth is that there is no "other side" - there's just the everyday people who want to live in safety, dignity, freedom and justice with their families and friends. And then there's the small minority of very powerful groups and individuals who actively benefit from the conflict continuing. And the faster that those of us who aren't Israeli or Palestinian realize this, the sooner we will be able to effectively support the people on the ground seeking lasting solutions that benefit the majority of the population.

#this is primarily directed at other foreigners who don't live in Israel or Palestine and still have a lot to say about it #i/p #המצב #everyone behave on this post please and thank you #don't be the reason I have to lock reblogs #I actually initially started with reblogs locked but then realized that if this is the post that gets me canceled? oh well #idfc #I have been screaming these words in my mind for weeks now and I can't get past how frustrated I am with the lack of empathy #so #here it is

[inamindfarfaraway]

I love reimagining Sofia the First episodes where Elena is inside the Amulet of Avalor from her perspective. You’re a sixteen-year-old heir to the throne trapped in a gemstone as a disembodied spirit with murdered parents, living family still in danger, a colonized country in need of liberation and untreated PTSD who nobody around you even knows exist. This has been your life for thirty-nine years by the time you finally find someone who might have the potential to free you. But first, you have to help her grow as a person. And all of these shenanigans keep happening. What was she thinking the whole time?

Sofia: (boasting to her friends about getting to sing the Enchancian anthem)

Elena: Oh my God, shut up. You sound like Esteban, and not in a good way.

Elena, a teenager and older sibling who hasn’t had the chance to tease anyone in roughly four decades: So… you’re expected to sing in front of a huge crowd tomorrow? Would be a shame. If something were to. Happen.

***

Amber: (deceives and manipulates Sofia and steals her amulet for personal gain)

Elena: You fucking brat! How dare you take advantage of your own sister’s trust after she’s been nothing but kind to you? Don’t you know how lucky you are? I would do anything to be able to just see my little sister again, talk to her, hug her, know that she’s safe and okay, let alone make her happy myself. You have so much, but you’re too spoiled rotten to appreciate it. You mistreat your family? Fine. Let’s see how you like them being threatened by an evil sorceress trying to take over your kingdom! ‘Cause trust me, it isn’t fun. Learn to be selfless or lose everything you’ve ever had! A BITCH FOR A BITCH!

***

Ivy: (takes the amulet to destroy it, which would kill Elena)

Elena: Shit.

***

Cedric: (deceives and manipulates Sofia and steals her amulet for personal gain)

Elena, who’s been onto him since day one, but feels completely unthreatened: You could be coveting any source of powerful magic, but no, you want the only one that you already know has a moral compass and will curse you for doing wrong. Genuine question: what are you doing with your life? I’m just gonna give you literal sticky fingers, and I’ll revoke that if you’re nice. You obviously don’t need much help to fail.

***

Miranda and Roland: (have sweet, bond-affirming moments with their children as good parents)

Elena: Aw, that’s nice. That’s - that’s nice. I’m fine.

***

Sofia: (is ten)

Elena: I’m so proud of Sofia. I think it’s time to enlist her to release me. Now how can I communicate that? Visions of Shuriki killing my parents and trying to kill me will get her started, right?

#GIVE US THE ELENA COMMENTARY DISNEY #‘elena reacts to sofia the first’ and her spirit in the amulet is pictured in a box at the corner of the screen #but it’s only what’s visible to her #so she doesn’t even have all the context #at the time summoning princess ivy feels very excessive #but then we meet elena and she’s absolutely hot-tempered and impulsive enough to punish a petty ten-year-old like that #sofia the first #elena of avalor #princess sofia #sofia balthazar #elena castillo flores #princess elena

[loviingpedri]

Did You Know I Loved You?

prompt: pedri never forgot you

warnings: cursing, grammar issues. all pictures used are not owned by me. not proofread.

word count: 1735

angst, some fluff

dedicated to all my pedri girlies <3

pedri and you were inseparable. from the day you walked into his parents' restaurant, the air suddenly changed. the town seemed to sparkle in tenerife when you two were exploring the island.

"let's play football," pedri slowly kicked the ball to you.

"it's so hot outside though," you groaned at the thought of kicking a ball in the burning sun.

"pleaseee, i wanna practice just for a little bit." you knew you couldn't say no to him. the decision ended up leaving you playing with him until the moon smiled at the duo.

little did you know, the moon never smiled and the sun never glistened after that day.

———————————————————————

“so what? you’re just gonna leave?” you shouted at pedri in disbelief.

“i can do what i want. you can’t control my decisions for the rest of my life,” he sighed and sat down to control his thoughts. “you knew this was gonna happen. i need to grow my career. i wanted to be in a work environment which i enjoyed. just don’t be so self-centered right now.”

“im self-centered? i didn’t even get a warning you would leave to this big city. you knew for weeks. fer knew for weeks. you said i was your family pedro, and family doesn’t hide things from each other.” the yelling echoed through the house. it was a situation that would never be fixed.

“i cant just tell my best friend that i’m leaving in 2 weeks. it would ruin everything. if you knew, you would’ve changed my mind and i wouldn’t be successful for anything.”

“pedro gonzalez, think for one fucking second. you kept a secret that could’ve changed everything. the moments we had together could’ve been more important than anything. i just needed one warning and this wouldn’t be happening. i don’t give a shit that you want to continue your passion. all i always wanted was for us to be happy.” it took everything in your power to not leave the house after you completely lashed out on him.

you knew deep down you didn’t want him to go because he was your first love. he was your first kiss, first friend, and first person to even talk to you in tenerife. you didn’t know who he was gonna see. you sure did not want him to talk to rich girls blinged out with their designer bags. you were scared shitless of how life would be without him. he was the only person who knew everything about you and what you should do in anxious situations.

then, the tears came. would he visit you? would he ever speak to you? would he write or text you? would you ever see him again? will there be time for the two of you to be together again.

“why are you crying? come on, its not that big of a deal.” he huffed loudly, shaking his head in stress that this was not the way this was suppose to happen.

“pedri, you are leaving to the city. i dont even know if i’ll ever get into contact with you anymore. you’ll have new friends, new people to worry about, and probably gonna knock someone up while you’re at it. can’t you just let me process this for one second.” and that’s when you made a mistake. doubting pedri was never a good idea. especially about the people he loved. especially when it came from the person who he loves the most.

pedri got up and looked at you for one last time. unexpectedly, he walked out the door without a word. you sat there in tears, debating to chase him or just let him go. the sobs fully came out.

———————————————————————

2 years had passed since he left. everyday, he thought about you. “what would y/n do? what would y/n say?” he questioned his decisions by following your mindset everyday. he begged his brother to tell how you were doing. never a word budged from fer since the huge fallout spread throughout the city.

tenerife was never the same. since both lost communication, it felt like the island itself was hopeless.

you, continued to push yourself through school. showing everyone that you would do well without him was your motivation. you’ve worked so hard to prove yourself to people that you had a job offer in barcelona.

of course, you accepted the job. people were upset that their beautiful youngin was finally moving on in life. moving into your modern apartment was like a fever dream. you’ve had your doubts, but it was definitely worth it. everyday, there would be news of pedri. pedri, barcelona’s best midfielder. pedri, one of the best young players in the world. pedri, the guy who gets every spanish girl all over him. hell, a video of him was going viral for taking a girl’s number and putting it into his pocket. obviously, it was implied that he would never have a single thought about you. fuck, it was stupid to even try to reach out for him.

after sitting in your living room while trying to find something to entertain yourself that wasn’t pedri related, you decided to go out for once. there seemed so much to do in the city instead of being lazy at home. walking for ages in the wind, you finally found a small cafe to rest. ordering your latte and sitting down, your thoughts were interrupted by a boy.

“excuse me, are you y/n?” said a boy that was not too much younger than you.

“yes i am,” you nodded your head slowly before taking a slow sip. it was a little awkward considering he looked at you in shock.

“i’m sorry. i’m pablo gavi. or known as gavi. you’re the person on pedri’s lock screen. he always talks about you during practice. holy shit, i never thought i would meet you. are you visiting him?”

what the fuck just happened. pedri still remembers me? why am i his lock screen? why does he talk about me? what does he say? for a moment, you sat there trying to understand what he said. gavi, confused on why you’re frozen in time, waved his hand in front of your face to make sure you’re okay.

“oh no, i’m not visiting. pedri and i don’t really talk anymore,” you shook your head and forced a little smile. only to ease the tension of gavi’s then saddened look.

“that’s weird. he talks about you like you’re his girlfriend or something. i thought you were doing long distance,” he shrugged his shoulders. “maybe you should visit camp nou. i think he’ll be happy to see you.”

quickly, you rejected his offer. “oh no, we exactly didn’t end off our friendship in the best terms. i think it’s better if we just don’t see each other again.”

“i insist. i’ll give you my number and i’ll text you all the details.” he took his arm giving you his phone. you bowed your head in defeat and put your phone number in.

unfortunately, everyone’s eyes had been on you and gavi.

———————————————————————

the next morning, your phone was blown up in notifications. your best friend constantly texting you on how you’re viral on twitter. paparazzi snapped pictures of your interaction with gavi.

“fuck.” you mumbled before groaning in defeat. you knew you had faced defeat in keeping a low-profile.

gavi, you knew, was for sure fucked. if pedri had seen the pictures, he was definitely getting beat up.

during practice, gavi kept his best to avoid his best friend. when pedri came up to him, he quickly turned pale.

“what’s wrong with you? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” pedri patted him on his back with a small laugh. gavi sighed in relief. he’s glad to have all his teeth and no black eye before the game.

“yeah, i’m fine.” and that’s when everything wasn’t. balde came up to him, rubbing his head and patting him.

“so, who’s the new girl? it’s all over the internet and not a word from you.” fuck you balde was the first thought that came to gavi’s head. gavi’s head was pounding. he didnt know what to say, how to react, or what to do.

“wow gavi. what other secrets are you keeping from us. let me see the picture balde.” pedri laughed even harder from the thought of gavi even approaching a girl. at that moment, gavi had to remind himself that he wasn’t 9 anymore. he couldn’t just simply run and cry his way out of this. luckily, balde only showed pedri the picture from the window. when you were facing towards him and could only see him offering his phone. gavi’s blood started to circulate again and his heart rate slowed.

“i cant really see her face, but she looks so familiar to me.” well no shit jackass. that was the girl you’ve been in love with since second grade. in fact, she’s sitting on the side waiting for you.

———————————————————————

your heart was about to jump out in any second. you sat there for two hours for them to be finished with training. each time pedri walked towards your direction, your nerves would start running around. luckily, he didnt see you a single time.

gavi texted you from the locker room that he was coming towards your direction. you never expected this to be happening. you were debating to run away, but your feet forced you to stay. you knew your mind was fighting to hate him, yet your heart convinced you to see him. even if it was the last time. finally, you heard footsteps coming.

pedri was wiping the sweat off his face. he came to a full stop. he thought he was hallucinating. he thought it was a dream. he stared at you for which felt like minutes. admiring your facial features, you sat there frozen. it was harder to read his facial expressions now. did he want you to leave? did he want you there? why isn’t he saying anything?

what felt like years, he started walking towards you. again, your nerves were still jumping. eventually, he made his way in front of you. suddenly, he smiled.

“holy shit you’re beautiful.” the state of confusion turned into love with one simple kiss. your lips connecting made the world happier. the air cleared. the atmosphere was different.

it felt peaceful.

———————————————————————

author’s note: hi everyone! i’m so glad you enjoyed my first story let’s be tourists. this is my second time i’m writing on tumblr, so im still getting use to it. i will be taking requests once i figure out how to set it up. please let me know if you have any suggestions on what i could improve on. thank you for all of the support !!! <3

#pedri gonzalez #pedri #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #fc barcelona #pedri x you #pedri x y/n #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri gonzalez x you #pedri fanfic #pedri angst

[drdemonprince]

something im kind of connecting the dots to re: your posts about shaming people who don’t wear masks…in ‘20 and ‘21 I spent a lot of time posting shaming instagram stories telling people they needed to mask, and i yelled at family until i was blue in the face bc they weren’t masking, having big weddings, etc. and it really created a rift (obviously) in my relationships. I’ve also spent a lot of time and energy in the past 4 or so years telling people that it’s not possible to be an ally to trans people if they still engage in any media created by jk rowling. Especially given that her anti trans manifesto has been cited in anti trans legislation in the uk, she says that she assumes that anyone who continues to engage with Harry Potter media approves of her transphobia, etc the list goes on. And yet i still see my friends going to the wizarding world of Harry Potter, marathoning the movies with their friends, going to see the new movies in theaters, and so on. Obviously my aggressive shaming posts and conversations (which have alienated a lot of people) aren’t doing jack shit. Your mask shame posts made me realize that it probably wasn’t right of me to do that. But I don’t see how I can stand up for what I believe in and show people that it’s not okay to keep doing this shit AND play nice and not create trouble. Do you have any thoughts?

Thanks for this great question and for sharing your experiences.

I think when we shame, part of it is a grappling with our own powerlessness. It feels terrible to confront that no matter how much we care, and no matter how much we plead, we cannot make another person take action. When people we love or rely on won't hear our pleas and won't take action, it wounds us so deeply, and it makes sense we react in anger or seek to shame them hoping it will make them care. But it isn't effective.

I think one of the first steps is accepting our powerlessness as individuals. We have to stop expecting ourselves to somehow persuade people to change their behavior and views, when all the research indicates that such change is rare, slow, and very hard, and cannot be accomplished on a person who does not already want to be influenced. We have to sit in the humility of not being able to make others care, and take time to grieve how badly it hurts. Our understandable and huge hurt feelings need to be processed. many of us have a powerful need to express our rage and have it witnessed by others who understand.

From there, we have to think very strategically about what kind of collective work we can do that will shift social norms, facilitate the behavior we want to see, and fight for systemic changes that will actually address the root issues.

This may be things like passing out masks at protests. Joining a local mutual aid fund to contribute to the expenses of people who are quarantining. Protesting an event space to make them institute a masking policy. Unionizing with our coworkers to demand paid sick leave. Shoplifting tests and redistributing them to people in need. Terrorizing the business leaders who dragged us all back into the office. Sharing the wastewater data. Asking loved ones about their COVID mitigation decisions in a sincere way. Organizing outdoor events for our communities. Paying for a buddy's vaccine.

There are countless ways for us to be plugged into an active community that is larger than us. The work is humble, and ongoing, and what you do personally will never be enough on its own, and you must accept that in order to believe that it does not have to be. We are in this together.

In short, I think the tough emotional realities of feeling disrespected and not cared for much be addressed by finding community with people who do care and will give us room to voice our outrage. And then we have to work together to create the circumstances that allow real systemic change to germinate.

Right now, people conflate that emotional need to express rage with the political need to take action. And what feels cathartic to do or say is not necessarily what's persuasive. There has to be room for both.

[its-your-mind]

Tbh I??? Really love these Bell’s Hells Company Retreat Activities???? Bc like. It’s not like any of them have been overly cagey this whole time, or actively hiding big secrets from each other. (someone at some point mentioned how BUCKwild it would have been to watch the M9 try to play What The Fuck Is Up With That within the first ten episodes of c2, with all the shit all of them were hiding and how much their early relationships were based on a mutual understanding that no one would expect each other to bring up the past unless it became a danger - the only one who ever poked that particular bear was Beau with Caleb at the start when she traded access to the Archive for the reason why Caleb gets fucked up by fire, and that private conversation shaped their relationship for the rest of the campaign BUT I digress.)

Nothing anyone confessed during the Honesty exercise was… a surprise. The only one who hadn’t shared the entirety of his past (that he remembered) was Chetney, and his was never the past that felt like a threat - that revelation was more along the lines of FCG’s type of “tell me about your family trauma so I can fix you” line of questioning.

The truths the Hells offered up to each other… they were significant (Fearne, I was disappointed in you for being afraid of your power), and scary (deep down, both Delilah and I kind of want the shard), and hard to say out loud (even on the nights I bunk up with one of you, I feel so lonely), but critically, so little of it was surprising. No one was sharing anything earth-shattering about their pasts or previously unknown plans for future betrayal.

And during the Communication exercise - none of them - Chetney, Imogen, Ashton, or Orym - doubted that their directors were leading them the wrong way. They listened, and paid attention to instructions, and didn’t try their own path because they felt like they knew better.

And then during Trust! The part that should have been the hardest!! All of them were obviously distrustful of each other, shooting around stressed looks, sending familiars to dive-bomb to check for flesh, but like… none of them actually turned on each other. None of them ganged up, or broke off, or stood in opposition - they were wary of each other, and they got the task done.

So… it didn’t really lead to any huge shifts in the dynamic. But that was never really what they needed! The Hells have trusted each other since the beginning, and even when they’re actively having to fight each other, it’s always with a desperation born from a place of concern. They really do care for and love each other. I don’t think any of them, if they sat down to think about it, truly believed that one of them was going to betray the others.

But they haven’t had time to sit and think about it. They have been actively fighting the literal end of the world since like… ep 45 (first irl Ludinus sighting/convo). The apocalypse happened. Has been happening. For thirty episodes now. They spent a good chunk of that time apart from each other, and then the rest of it desperately reaching out to anyone with more power than themselves to beg for their help.

So yeah! It’s not a big surprise that they’re all bottling up a lot of their own shit right now! There aren’t that many personal issues that feel like they deserve more attention than the literal end of the world.

It was inevitable something was going to give. And since Ashton’s shit was up next for dissection because they had a past that brushed up against the Primordials? Of course they were the one whose internal lockdown broke first. And of course when it did, it physically shattered Ashton, too, right along those same fault lines where Milo put them back together the first time. It’s so good that they had friends who were there, past and present, to make sure none of the pieces got lost. To put them back together.

We watched Laudna break down right after, specifically because she was back home, in this place where Delilah had first tortured and killed her, where she had lived as a wraith haunting a castle. Delilah had been slowly picking the lock on the cage the Hells had forced her into, and Ashton’s “betrayal” was the last tumbler Delilah needed to snap into place to break the lock in Laudna’s mind. And her mind shattered, fragmented in the same way it had been after she was first brought back as Delilah’s vessel. How beautiful that it was Laudna’s love of children and her desire to make Ashton a gift (meant to be part insult, “because you’re a child,” and declaration of her care for him, “I like children.”)

And Fearne… Fearne almost broke down after them. Slamming the hammer down next to Ashton’s head over and over and over, screaming at him, wandering away through the city, sleeping alone in the woods… She saw the cliff’s edge coming. That’s why she asked them if they could stop at her Nana’s first.

Because she needed it. And the rest of the Hells say, “Why? Do you think Nana Morri can help us in this?” And Fearne says, “Well, I don’t know, but…” And Imogen says, “Do you need it for you?” And Fearne says, in a small and shattered voice, “…yes.”

And that’s the end of the discussion.

They go home, to a place where they are safe and have time, for the first time since Ruidus was locked in place.

And so they have time to be Honest - and they are. Fearne likes to watch them all and play with their hair while they sleep. Orym has thought through how he would neutralize them if he absolutely had to. Ashton thinks it would be better for him to be dead than for Fearne to be hurt. Imogen is scared to face her mom. Laudna dreams of leaving this behind. FCG is jealous of the people around him with a heart, because they have possibilities he doesn’t. Chetney hasn’t settled down once in 400 years because he’s scared he’s cursed to drive away any family he has.

Behind all of this - I want to know everything about you. I need to make sure you don’t hurt each other. I would sacrifice myself to keep you from pain. I don’t want to choose between my blood and this family we’ve built. I want you all to be safe. I want you to pursue happiness. I don’t want to lose you.

And then, Communication - follow along this path. Listen to my voice. Keep calm, keep quiet. Stay the course. I will keep you safe. Keep walking, keep walking, and… you’re there, honey.

And finally, Trust. Two of them are going to be replaced by fae beings bent on preventing them from completing their mission, and they have to complete this task without letting the infiltrators stop them. Okay. Let’s all stick together. Keep eyes on each other. Wait for the doppelgängers to give themselves away somehow. Do you remember these small, banal details about our mutual history? There’s a possibility that action you took was malicious, but I know you well enough to know that might have been a mistake you made on your own. Here, I’ll walk into traps to show that I’m not going to stop you. I’ll get out of your way and take out the threats. I’ll be eyes in the sky and send my familiar to poke you to test if you feel like you should. But nothing you’re doing makes me see you as a real threat - just the possibility of one. I trust you. I trust in you. I trust myself to know enough about you to identify if you’re doing something differently than normal.

And the result of those exercises? No new information, but maybe some things that we all had lost track of amongst the chaos. I am not shocked by your Honesty. I know deep down that I can rely on your Communication. I do Trust you. I know you. I care for you. I know you care for me, too. Even when I have doubts, even when you fuck up, even when things break bad and you make the wrong call…

We are a team for a reason, and no matter what we said in the beginning, it is not just out of necessity or convenience. Are we a bunch of fucked up, broken people? Absolutely. Are we going to continue to fuck up? Probably. Does that change how we feel about each other? No. Never. As long as you’ll have me, I’ll be here, fighting alongside you. Helping you up when you stumble. Offering a shoulder when you need to cry. Standing over you to protect you if you fall. Laughing with you in good times, kicking ass for you in bad. This is our family, damn it. It is strange, and broken, but it is ours, and it is good.

#critical role #bells hells #c3e80 #cr3 #c3 #this got away from me a bit maybe??? but fuck!! I was feeling so many damn emotions this episode!!! this is obvs a v watsonian take #I also wanted to add the doyalist take that the players needed some role play that was like… thematically appropriate (shit be fucked) #but without world-altering stakes #it’s been a stressful time!! #I am glad that they were having fun with the dnd mini games matt made for them #but anyway the post got too fuckin long so there it is in the tags #fuck I love this story

[brights-place]

OH MY GOD I LOVED THE VELVET ONE! UHM CAN YOU PLEASE DO VENEER NEXT IF YOU CAN??!?

Dating Veneer Headcannons

Pairings: Veneer X Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Dating veneer headcannons! Yipee sorry this came one late I've been busy with work and my personal its like so much right now that it's worrying rn but I hope you like these!

- Veneer was close to you well cause you were Velvet and his manager - He befriended you very quickly and would smile at you everytime he see's you but after awhile he realized that he always got nervous when you were around, never truly understanding his own feelings.

- He asked velvet for help and she pointed out that he liked you in an romantic way which made him shocked - He soon starts to flirt with you which always ends up with you giggling at how bad they where but you still accepted when he asked to take you on an date - 3-5 dates later you two started to date and it was amazing he loves you so much and would cling onto you - He lovess giving you small gifts he'd just straight up walk to you and hand you the gift with an huge grin on his face "(Name) I bough you an gift its matching bracelets for you, and I"

- Veneer tried so hard not to tell you they were using an troll for their talent and had slipped up many times velvet and covered his mouth glaring at him and speaking for Veneer - Veener would make sure you you get an good amount of breaks mainly because veneer likes to make sure when your on an break he could gossip with you and talk about the most random things - He finds it easier to open up to people, compared to Velvet. You specifically being someone he holds very close which was you! So thats why he gossips with you - Also loves when you get him little gifts or if you make him something he'd tear up and squeal - Loves showing of his show outfits for you - In general, he loves being around you and can’t get enough of you. You make him feel so grateful.

- He can sometimes struggle with communication he loves you and trusts you enough to speak his mind  - if he sees your sad or in a bad mood he will drop everything he’s doing just to help you even if that's rehearsals and velvet would yell at him later he wants to focus on you

- he’ll spoil you rotten the got that famous people moneyyyy! probably gets more gifts for you than he does himself

- cant stand up to his sister for himself or anyone else but when it comes to you? HE DOSEN'T GIVE AN SHIT! HE WILL FIGHT SOMEONE

- Veneer is SOOOO clingy - Clings onto you when he's tired like wraps himself around you two times (Cause he can do that bro's an spaghetti doll) - He is 100% the little spoon. Even if hes taller then you, he will make it work. - However he will never pass up an opportunity to be the big spoon. He honestly doesn't mind at all! just as long as your in his arms or he's in yours he'd be happy

- any chance he gets to hug you or kiss your face he will with no mercy…

- whenever he’s stressed he’ll just sit down in front of you and lay his head on your thighs as he looks up at you lovingly - He would literally call you all sorts of cute nicknames or just some mebarssing nicknames just not because he usually does this with alot of people but for you it would be constant and intentional while he wiggles his eyebrows - Makes stupid expressions while your sad as you giggle kissing his lips - I would say Veneers love languages are gifts and physical touch cause this man would 100% do that - likes doing your hair his hair styling skills are amazing he does it for fun like how velvet does so it always comes out great not as good as velvets though Sometimes he allows velvet to use you to test out styles she might do on herself and veneer for fun

- It breaks his heart when you’re upset, so he uses everything in his power to make you happy again. He’ll talk to you, telling you that everything’s gonna be okay. - Within a few minutes, you won’t even remember what you were sad about. - When you heard they where frauds you stared at Veneer who looked at you quickly as your voice that was in an whisper "veneer..." veneer stared at you before hopping into the car with velvet - They used an troll which was ILLEGAL AND COULD MAKE THEM GO TO JAIL! you couldn't help but stare at veneer with betrayal and sadness in your eyes - you made sure that the small troll was alright and apologized that you didn't know at all this was going on - You also scolded crimp about how she was helping them and made sure to tell the authorities crimp was also apart of it ... You ain't letting crimp slide she helped the two - Even though that happened you still visited him in prison you wouldn't lie to yourself he looks great in orange but even though you cried when seeing the Veneer hang his head in shame you wanted to hug him but the glass between you couldn't allow that

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

#veneer x reader #veneer trolls x reader #fanfic #trolls band together #trolls #veneer #veneer trolls #velvet and veneer #trolls 3

[aziraphales-library]

Helloooooo again! Hope you are doing well! I have a request for some fics and I was wondering if you happen to know if there are any where Aziraphale and Crowley get married in Vegas after a drunk night (this is a very specific niche so if you can’t find any that is perfectly ok!) and it doesn’t even have to be in Vegas, just accidental marriage fics are cool too. Thank you!

Hi! Here are some drunken Las Vegas marriage fics...

to have and to hold, probably by seventhstar (G)

They have long, drawn out arguments about this, if they can even be termed arguments; onlookers inevitably describe their tone of voice as 'fond' and their mode of communication as 'bickering'. The wine is passed back and forth between them. Marriage, Aziraphale argues, is divine. It's about love. It's about making promises, and keeping them. It's about faith and hope and devotion. Marriage, Crowley replies, is infernal. It gives two people who love each other endless opportunities to ruin it. It's about power and money and pain; it's caused more evil than it ever has good. Or, the one where they get drunk married in Las Vegas.

Waking Up In Vegas by Supergeek21 (T)

Crowley and Aziraphale wake up hungover after a night out in Vegas.

Ouroboros by FriendOfLoki (T)

“We should get married!” Crowley blurts out. His face is burning the moment the words leave his mouth and enter into the night. He’s not quite sure how he got here. Or, the story of how Aziraphale and Crowley drunkenly marry each other one night in Las Vegas.

Oops! by Mimsynims (E)

This must be a dream. A fantastic, soul-crushing dream. That’s the only explanation. Right? “Aziraphale, did you hear me?” Bugger. Not a dream. “Pardon, what was that?” Aziraphale reluctantly dragged his eyes from the simple yet perfect ring on his left hand. A ring that matched the one on Crowley’s left hand. His friend, Crowley. Best friends Aziraphale and Crowley are on holiday in Las Vegas. After a getting a bit too drunk the night before, they wake up with wedding rings on their fingers. Sounds like it should be easily dealt with, or is it..?

Veni Vino Vegas (I Came, I Got Drunk, I Got Married) by A_N_D (T)

After a whirlwind drunken evening, author Az Fell came home from Rom-Con without his heirloom pinkie ring – but with a wedding license from a 24-hour Las Vegas chapel. Elsewhere, book fan Tony Crowley woke up with a hangover, vague memories, and a brand new ring he’s only seen in author photos. Mutually attracted, mutually terrified the other one thinks it was all a regrettable mistake, they turn to their dear but anonymous online friend to vent and ask for advice. …Maybe they should tell each other their screennames someday.

Waking Up Married by Caedmon (E)

"So you’re telling me that my options are either to convince this man I just met and drunkenly married to stay married to me for six months or lose two thirds of a billion pounds?” “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Fergus said. “Fucking shit,” Crowley spat. He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment before rubbing his eyes with his fists. Now his job would be twice as hard. He needed to talk Aziraphale into staying married for six months. Should he try begging or bribing? This was a huge ask, and Aziraphale would be well within his rights to tell Crowley to fuck off. But Crowley was prepared to offer him pretty much anything, up to half of the trust, if that’s what it took. He didn’t care. But that was only part of his concern. Even if he got insanely lucky and Aziraphale agreed to stay legally married to him for the next six months, how the hell was he going to talk Aziraphale into dating him during that time? And was it foolish to even try? One thing at a time, he decided. First, he needed to convince Aziraphale to stay legally married to him. Then he could set about wooing his husband. He hoped.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #accidental marriage #drinking #alcohol #las vegas wedding #mod d

[werewolf-girlfriend]

ive been enabled so let me share some of my thoughts on how to get ur art noticed online

if u want Engagement on ur posts then i believe that its critical to make people care about ur art. the easiest way to do this is to appeal to something they already care about, like fandom, aesthetics/subculture, current events, having fun (people love humor!). a harder but perhaps more fulfilling route is to talk about ur own ocs and projects enough until people start caring about them too

theres an infinite amount of topics people care about out there so id suggest picking something u already care about urself and channel ur art energy there. trying to make art for the most popular things out there regardless own interests is an exercise in misery, id advise against it..! if im allowed to get superstitious for a moment, i do believe that even untrained eyes can tell whether a piece of art was fun to work on or a chore. and besides! if ur having fun then its easier to create more, and the more u create the more chances ull have at getting lucky and having a post seen :)

on a very related note, art is a way to communicate ideas so the quality of the idea being presented in a piece of art is paramount to how popular a post will be. what i mean by this is that technical skill isnt the primary determinant of a posts popularity. if all your posts are portraits of original characters then people will have a hard time connecting with your posts and theyll keep scrolling, even if those portraits are masterpieces! the major exception to this is probably other artists, who ive found usually have a greater appreciation for the technical side of art (we can only speculate as to why..!)

lemme finish by saying that making popular posts and being good at art are two entirely different skillsets, ive seen many incredibly skilled artists with jack shit for notes because they dont give people a reason to care about their stuff NOT TO MENTION its a huge game of luck whether a post will get seen. so dont go insane in pursuit of recognition!

(i dont want to make this post too long so ive included examples from my own art and their note counts with my analysis after the break)

hello and welcome to the extracurricular segment to this post :) i bring yall two pieces from my art blog @werewolf-artfriend:

here we have a portrait of my fursona that im still proud of and a sketch suggesting "what if sniffers (from minecraft) were the size of mountains?" (let it be noted that the sniffer sketch was posted right during the minecraft mob vote = peak interest in the subject of sniffers).

the portrait at the time of writing has a crisp 30 notes, whilst the sniffer sketch has over 2000 notes. from the same artist, on the same blog, posted only a few months apart. i believe this is a good example both of the power of a piece of art having an interesting idea at its core AND of a piece appealing to the interests of the masses

this is of course just two convenient example posts, but i have experienced fan art of popular topics getting thousands of notes a couple of times now, amidst my other furry shit that these days get around 200-300 notes in comparison

this may sound like a really long winded way of saying "fan art make the world go round" but i just want to point out the nuances that

1) it matters what u make fan art of: if a fandom is small or dormant (waiting on new canon content for example) then clearly less people will be excited about the fan art you make. dont expect 10k notes on ur post if the average recent post in the fandom gets around 200 etc etc

2) it doesnt have to be fan art! ive also had some of my bird art get thousands of notes because people simply like birds :) and this applies to ANY topic people care about! the world rly is your oyster on this one

anyway i think ive started rambling dhgdjhgd thanks if u read this far! i hope i got my point across! and if ur feeling down about ur art not being seen then just keep at it okay! keep creating and keep having fun! keep sharing ur ideas and perspectives with the world and ur audience will eventually find u! i love you!

#i dont know if this stuff is obvious but i was like :o when i started viewing things this way! i think it makes sense! #i honestly still have more thoughts on this subject + some more practical advice from my experience #but ive never written a long talk-y post before so uh maybe another day <3 #isa speaks

[luveline]

maybe for zombie Steve au, there’s some sort of emergency at the college so there’s like a lockdown ish but Steve & reader get split up & then have an emotional reunion? 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

thank you so much for your request! I took a smide of inspo from scenes of twd (specifically when the prison fence gets it shit rocked) steve zombie!au ♥︎ fem!reader 5k words

"And you…" You pause, tongue sticking out as you struggle to tuck your shirt into your jeans. "You smoked?" 

Steve laughs where he's shrugging into his own jeans. You're both very late. 

"Everyone smoked junior year." 

"I didn't." 

"No, of course you didn't," he says, laughing more. It's a nice sound to hear so early in the morning. You can almost pretend you're well-rested. 

"I didn't," you say emphatically, leaning against the wall by the door to slip on your sneakers. 

It doesn't matter if you're telling the truth, Steve clearly doesn't believe you. He mirrors your actions and puts on his own pair of sneakers. They were white, once upon a time, but now they're a gritty grey. You stand tall in unison and pull open the door.

"Wait," Steve says. 

He brushes your hair out of your face, looking over each of your features casually before his fingers dip down to your belt. You startle on instinct, though he's only fixing the mess you'd made of your tucked shirt. His fingers push under your belt methodically, efficiently. In less than a minute he's done. 

Neither of you bother with a jacket. Steve pockets the keys and the door locks behind you, the two of you half jogging out of Little Hawkins to the front of the building. 

"I'll be at the north fence all day, okay, so if you need me, come and find me. You're–" 

"In the pantry where I always am," you say, "and I'll be fine, so you don't let anything bite you and I'll see you at dinner." 

"Wait, wait, wait," Steve says, catching your wrist before you can part ways. 

He pulls you in by the arm until he can grab your shoulders. He does altogether too much looking, eyes raking over your face, your neck. He meets your eyes, cups your cheek in both hands. 

"I love you," he says quickly, "I love you," —he kisses you wonky, lips way too close to your nose, "I love you. See you at dinner." 

He's sick in the head. He doesn't give you any time to answer or bestow the heaping of affection he deserves, simply splits and power walks away from you.

You sigh, wringing your hands together. "Steve! I– I love you too!" 

He turns around, his smile ridiculously big, and waves at you. You wave back. 

He races out of view. You try not to make eye contact with the people milling around outside of the dorm building and pick up the pace, running down the street to the cafeteria building. 

The town hall is alive in the mornings, and class is in session, more kids than you'd ever expected to see again in your lifetime all bundled up in one room. You think it's nice, the way they teach them here. They don't bother with algebra or arithmetic, though Sammy the 'teacher' offers tutoring to anybody who wants it, they just draw and play and talk about emotional wellbeing. Sometimes there are survival classes, but they don't really talk about geeks. They show the kids what wild flora is edible, or how to wrap a cut. You think it's probably more for routine than actual teaching. 

"Hi, Sammy," you say. 

She smiles, and you're horrified as she says, "Hi, baby. Class, say good morning." 

All the kids say good morning to you. You flush with heat from top to bottom. Their cute little faces beaming up at you is an instant disarming. 

"Hi, kids," you say, waving. 

Hands holding crayons and pencils wave back at you. 

You make your way into the kitchen, which is a huge industrial affair connected to an otherwise small cafeteria. Maybelle and Pauline are already inside cleaning up the leftover breakfast and preparing for community dinner. 

Breakfast is specifically for the people inside the community who can't manage to make it themselves, the disabled, the injured, the elderly, but dinner is for everybody. 

"Sorry I'm late," you say. 

"Hun, we don't care," Maybelle says. 

"Did you want breakfast?" Pauline asks. "I'm gonna wrap this up otherwise. Somebody's gonna eat it."  

It sounds like a threat. You take some of the breakfast they've set aside, which isn't a breakfast food at all, just boxed mac and cheese that tastes slightly stale. You barely notice it anymore, though the texture gives you the heebies. 

You move into the pantry and check everything still there, the easiest and most useless part of your job. Then, Maybelle and Pauline try to put together a meal that's both cost effective (the cost being the energy expended to retrieve the food, and the likelihood that this food will be seen again) and not disgusting. Oftentimes they have to make a bunch of different stuff that doesn't go together, but it's better than nothing. You like this a whole lot more than if they just gave everybody a can a day and said there's your lot. 

You mark down the things they've taken. You mark down things you might need in Hopper's next supply rub. It's a super cushy job, the kind that isn't strictly necessary, but there are a lot of people in the community and the majority are willing to do what needs to be done. They ran out of jobs quickly, and you're sure Hopper had felt a little sorry for you, so here you are. You're not like Steve. You're not a survivor. You're lucky. 

You sit down after a while, no use pretending you have anything left to do, left side pressed to the side of the industrial oven. 

"You know, we used to live in Mississippi?" Pauline asks you. 

"What?" you ask. 

"Mm-hm, we were only in Michigan for vacation, if you can believe it. We had a good time." 

"Before, the uh, the apocalypse," Maybelle says with a tittering laugh. "We were hiking in the Porcupine Mountains when some dude tried to bite me. We thought he had rabies." 

The room smells like jarred pasta bake, a rich, garlic-thick smell that threatens to make your eyes droop. In the cafeteria, through the open shutters, you can hear the kids singing. Sammy hates nursery rhymes, so they learn the words of old songs by Louis Armstrong. Today, they're a discordant, too fast chorus of What a Wonderful World. It's a racket.  

But no matter how loud the kids sings, they can't cover the reverberations of a gunshot. 

A hush falls in the kitchen.

You stand up. You aren't panicked, exactly. More like you've stepped into a heavy overcoat, trepidation a weight that settles like a second skin. You move to stand by the sink with Maybelle. She pushes it open, and the three of you stare outside. 

Trees rustle in the wind. The kids descend into giggles as Matthew, one of the rare teenagers who deigns to join in, busts out a Louis Armstrong impression, his voice deep and bending. The oven hums. 

The second gunshot sounds. After that, you can't count them. 

Maybelle slams the window closed and twists the handle down to lock it. 

Your heart beats. None of you know what to say. Your pulse bumps, and bumps, and bumps. 

"Lock the doors," Maybelle says. "Lock the windows. Just in case." 

Gunfire comes fast and ferocious as a sudden downpour, popping in the near distance. Your footsteps clip over the linoleum floor, firm rubber soles like an elastic band as you bound into the cafeteria and meet Sammy's eyes. 

The kids are perturbingly quiet. 

"I'm gonna lock the doors," you say tentatively. 

Dread fills her face. "Okay. Alright." 

You fizz around the room, locking the front and side entrances one after another. You're thinking so many things at once that you can't seem to focus on any, and instead your attention is drawn to the inconsequential. How cold the metal on the door's emergency push bars are. The colouring books on the floor. 

You're standing in front of the last door with shaking hands as it gets thrown open. You gasp and scrabble backwards, hands in front of your chest to protect yourself. 

It's Joyce. Breathless, red in the face Joyce. 

"Lock the kids in the kitchen," she says. "The north fence has a leak. They're getting in." 

—

Steve is not having the good day he thought he'd be getting. 

You'd been exceptionally pretty this morning, tired eyed and disorientated but adorable through and through. You and Steve have fallen into a routine, and you talk so much it's a surprise your throats aren't sore. There's so much to say and never enough time to say it; you've taken to trading stories in the morning while you get dressed. Today was Steve's turn. He'd told you all about his birthday party during junior year, how his dad had almost killed him because somebody left a hole in the wall, and how he still can't eat Dunkin' Donuts without feeling queasy. You'd asked him when the last time he actually got to eat a donut was, and it hadn't been sad, like you might expect. 

He'd said, "I don't need any extra sweetness, are you kidding? Got all my sugar right here." 

You'd laughed at him (not with him) and nearly choked on toothpaste. 

That's a perfect morning for Steve. That's as good as they get. It might be silly, but he'd felt damn good, and foolishly tricked himself into thinking the rest of the day might be similarly great. 

"You're a fool, Harrington," he mutters to himself. 

"What was that?" 

Steve looks up. Jonathan and Christopher are staring at him. 

"He's going crazy," Christopher says. "Best take him out to the back shed." 

"Funny." Steve kicks the dirt in front of him. "So bored I'm talking to myself," he admits. 

"It could be worse," Jonathan says. "We could be on latrine duty." 

Steve would rather not think about latrine duty. God bless the communal bathroom in Little Hawkins. 

The day is breezy but surprisingly warm, not a cloud in the sky. The sun bears down and heats Steve's skin in waves. He likely should've stopped for his jacket this morning, but he'd been super late. He doesn't want a citation. Another citation. 

This is the slowest day they've ever seen on fence duty. Usually the general hubbub of the community catches the attention of a handful of geeks, and fence duty stabs them through the brain with lethally modified crowbars. It's gross, but it's necessary. It keeps you safe. Yet today they haven't seen a single undead. 

"Maybe they're dying," Christopher says. 

"They're already dead," Jonathan says. 

"How do you know? You felt for a pulse?" 

"They decompose," Jonathan says, laughing softly. "They're corpses." 

"I'm just saying." Christopher shrugs. 

Steve ignores them both without malice, staring through the section of chain link fence he's standing in front of and out into the streets. The north side of The College faces the surrounding town. From here, he can see a pharmacist's building, a sandwich shop, and a small veterinary clinic. Shells of cars long dismantled line the road. Natural works to reclaim them slowly, tires threaded with long grass. A few days ago, a deer ran straight up to the fence and stared at him. He promised you he'd come and find you next time, even though you hadn't really minded. He wants you to see it. There's more out there than just geeks and bad people. 

He shivers and fiddles with the holster on his hip, checking for the tenth time in as many minutes that the gun held within has the safety mechanism on. He really doesn't wanna shoot himself in the foot. That would majorly suck, though, he thinks, you'd look after him. That might make it worth it. 

Not that he'd shoot himself in the foot for your attention, that would be totally backwards. But he thinks you'd look cute as a nurse, with the little hat— 

"Do you hear that?" Jonathan asks. 

Steve pulls away from his questionable thoughts and turns to see his kind of friend. Jonathan stands with his nose to the fence, straight brown hair curling at the bottom of his neck. He needs a trim, but who is Steve to judge? 

"Hear what?" Steve asks. 

Though you can see the town through the gaps, the fences are blanketed by trees. Old trees with thick trunks, the kind that protesters would chain themselves to if the government ever suggested cutting them down. The ground around them is more dirt than grass, like the packed earth under the fence and Steve's shoes.

He assumes Jonathan's talking about the creaking of a thousand branches in the wind. Brown and orange leaves fall in droves, crinkly and scratchy as they litter the floor. 

"I can't hear anything," Steve says. 

"It sounds like a car engine," Jonathan says. 

Steve cannot agree. Now that the world is silent, car engines sound like jet planes. They shake the ground. There are no vibrations to be felt, but… there is something. 

"I'm gonna walk the perimeter," Steve says. A creeping unease takes shape over his shoulders like the winding suffocation of a python. He can feel the pressure of it against his throat. 

It's nothing, he thinks to himself. 

Sections of street flash between the trees. Tree, empty street. Tree, empty street. Each tree blocks the sun, and goosebumps erupt over his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up with each footstep into the dimness. Steve pulls his crowbar close to his chest. 

I'm paranoid, he promises himself, even as the strange sound Jonathan had heard begins to rise. He knows what it is, he knows, but he doesn't want to know. The wet suck of meat being pulled off the bone, and the dry rattle of lungs that won't fill. He lets the sun kiss his cold face for a moment, and then he stops behind the cover of a huge sycamore tree and leans, carefully, slowly, to the left. 

The sun hasn't warmed the sparse grass. Each blade is frosted into spikes. The leaf litter has turned to mulch, disturbed and churned by the body splayed open atop it. Blood emulsifies the dirt, a black mud that covers the hands, arms, knees, and mouths of a sizable herd. 

Steve flinches backward, covers his nose to shield himself from the stink, and swiftly presses stiff fingers over his mouth to stop himself chucking up. 

There must be fifty or more geeks huddled there, fighting for scraps of ligament, falling over chunks of inedible veel.

Steve wants to retreat quietly. His hands have other ideas. 

He drops the crowbar, fumbling for it with every centimetre it falls, and ends up knocking it a couple feet away with a horrified gasp. 

The fences are hammered into the ground so they can't be moved, but there aren't many fence posts between sections. Flimsy chain link is all that separates Steve and the herd. 

They look up. They start to move. 

Hands reach for him, hands force themselves through the holes of the fence, skin peeling back over muscle like the delicate rind of a pear. He watches in horror as the herd congregates, as the herd leans its collective weight against what's basically chicken wire, as dessicated flesh shaves off of their dead bodies, as the fence begins to bend. 

The geeks use each other like ladder, pulling and climbing, heaped like jenga tiles until a gnarled hand closes over the top of the fence. 

He wants to run. He needs to stay. He needs to separate them, he needs to thin the weight. He scrambles to take up his crowbar again, taking a step forward, but the tattle tale sound of metal scratching against metal squeals in his ear, and he leaps backward as the fence tips forward.

He should scream. 

He trips as he grabs the crowbar, palm aching as it smashes into the ground. He barely touches the floor, pushing himself back up and using his momentum to sprint toward the rendezvous point. 

"Jonathan!" he shouts, his voice strained. "They're over the fence. Section twenty one is coming down!" The fence has already come down, but Steve isn't thinking straight. 

Jonathan barely looks at Steve. He only needs one glance before he's looking past him. Steve looks back, too, and then he keeps on sprinting.

Jonathan unholsters his gun. Christopher does the same. 

Behind Steve, across the stretch of the college campus, a wave of geeks snap their gored maws. Steve runs harder than he's ever ran before, faster than he's ever moved, even faster than that night in the woods with you, scroungers on your tail, laughing and cussing, their flashlights shining at your heels like the beam of a prison guardhouse. 

Steve vaults himself over an overgrown hedge and right into the centre of the campus. There aren't many people out, but any at all is too many. 

"Get inside!" he shouts without explanation, shoes sliding over stone as he leaps for the civil defence siren nestled against the gym building. "Get inside! There are geeks inside the fence!" 

Jeremy and Dustin had jerry-rigged the broken siren months ago for situations like this to only play for two seconds. Not long enough to attract anything that isn't already here. Steve slams his hand into the button and stares up at it in a petrified awe as the siren begins to cry, one long and wailing wave of sound that careers over the community. 

It might be his imagination, but he thinks that the silence after it stops is imbued with impending doom. One empty, fragile moment, before the shouting begins, and the following pop of gunfire is impossible to ignore. 

He thinks of you in the kitchen across the quad. He thinks of running to you, of hiding you somewhere nobody will ever get to you. 

He runs back the way he came. 

—

All these little faces in disarray. You huddle amongst the youngest ones and try your best to keep them quiet, whispering a story as the sound of gunshots cracking over asphalt rivets the quiet. 

"Me and Steve, we saw all kinds of fish. We saw carp, and salmon, and koi fish in the lake. They looked like huge, gorgeous goldfish, they had–" everyone jumps as something close by takes a hit, a fence perhaps, split apart— "these huge black eyes and these popping mouths. You know how fish pop their lips together?" 

You look around the circle and beg one of them to answer. If Sammy weren't such a wicked shot she would've stayed and handled this a hell of a lot better than you are.

"I know," says one of the youngest girls. She can't be six years olds. 

"Yeah? How do they do it?" 

She starts to pop her lips. You grin despite your welling panic and nod encouragingly. You'd clap if your hands weren't full of smaller hands. 

"Yeah, like that! They were swimming so close to us, I could see their gills." 

Your story isn't true, but it is distracting. You hold their attention for as long as you can. Pauline stands in the doorway, eyes flitting between the three entrances to the cafeteria, and Maybelle haunts the sink, hiding just behind the other overhead spray to try and find out what's going on. The storm siren hasn't sounded again, and Hopper hasn't come around to tell you it's safe. 

It might never be safe again.

You swallow down the urge to scream and squeeze the tiny fingers curled over your palm. They belong to a little boy, white and brown-haired with pretty hooded eyes. He looks like Steve. 

You could've sworn, just before the siren, that you'd heard him yelling, but you'd raced to the sink and looked out and hadn't seen him. 

You can't help thinking about it. About everything — he could die. He could already be dead. Joyce swore she hadn't seen him, and had only managed to speak to Christopher, who'd split off to alert the older group. She said Jonthan was holding off a group of geeks. She couldn't stay, determined to go help him. 

So if Christopher was looking for Hopper, and Jonathan was by himself at the north fence, where was Steve? Where exactly was the leak? 

You lean forward toward the kids and whisper, "Does anyone else have a story? From a vacation?" 

"We went to Niagara Falls, once," Becky says. 

"You did? What was it like, huh? Was the waterfall really loud?" 

Becky starts to tell her story. You try to listen. You can't think of anything at all besides Steve, though your priority is keeping everybody here safe, your brain won't stop. You can't shake the feeling that you'll lose him, and it's a bright red branding behind your eyes. You're gonna lose him.

This can't be happening. 

It's been a month since Connor, an ex-member of The College with delusions of grandeur, dragged you underdressed and freezing through miles of forest with your wrists bound, wondering if you'd ever see Steve again. A month of nightmares and hot flashes and reaching out for Steve in the dark. 

You'd thought, if you died, if Connor killed you, that it would ruin Steve's life. He'd waste it looking for you. You'd thought that was the worst feeling in the world, knowing you'd leave him behind.

You hadn't understood what this part felt like. How Steve must've felt, wondering if you were dead. How he must've argued with himself as you do now. 

Steve hadn't hesitated. Robin mentioned it once, casual but earnest. Steve tore the place apart looking for you. He assembled a search party and went looking for you on a hunch. Steve says he's lucky they chose the right direction. You know it's more than that. You know you're the lucky one. 

He knew you were in danger, and he came to get you. 

"Maybelle," you say, standing up. "I'm gonna need a knife." 

— 

Steve isn't sure what the fuck they're doing. Hopper shouts instructions but they're confusing and nobody knows what's happening. Geek gore drips down his arm and he prays he doesn't have any broken skin as he ploughs the sharp of the crowbar deep into a grey mottled eye socket. 

It shucks out, the geek's body collapsing in a heap at his feet. Tens more stagger forward.

"Everyone should be inside, but that doesn't mean everyone is inside!" Hopper shouts, his booming voice echoing over the din of shots and slick stabbing. "We need to contain them. Joyce, Jonathan, I need you back here. Bernier, Taylor, McCoy, push for the fence! We need to get it back up and standing before this gets worse. Harrington!" 

Steve pierces the skull of an approaching geek like an eggshell, springing back before a second can tear a chunk out of him. "What?" he yells. 

"You should circle back to the quad, make sure there aren't any stragglers."

"Joyce already secured–" 

"It's up to you, kid." 

Steve appreciates what Hopper's doing. Everyone knows you and Steve are unhealthily dependent on one another right now considering the circumstances, and he'll admit that his heart wants literally nothing more than to be where you are. He thinks of you locked up in the kitchen with all this happening outside and hates it, but as long as you stay where you are, that's as safe as you can be. 

He doesn't bother saying yes or no, throwing himself back into the throng. 

It's the ultimate workout. Sweat stings his eyes, his brain pounds behind them. He has to stay vigilant and he has to be fast. He cuts down geeks with a practised agility, Bernier on one side, Taylor the other. They force their way to the fence, and soon there's a small army of survivors behind them, bullets burning his eardrum to the right. 

When the fence is finally in view again, they buckle down. 

It's a huge struggle. Hopper and Livingstone front a team of five of the older guys with a replacement fence on their literal shoulders. The woods are teaming with geeks who must have heard the gunfire and the siren. They cut down the old fence behind Steve and the youngers. The new one gets thrown up just as Steve spears a geek through the ear, hammers whacking into frozen earth with a sound like a car crash.

"Harrington, inside the perimeter!" 

Steve eyes an imminent geek but does as Hopper commands, weaselling through the single gap they've left behind. They finish the inner hammering and Hopper and Livingstone set about chaining the sections back together. 

Steve backs away from the fence and tries to catch his breath. He leans back and brushes the hair out of his eyes, chest heaving, eyes shuttering closed in relied. They survived it. They did exactly what they were supposed to do in this situation and the plan worked. 

Somebody takes the crowbar from his hand and he lets them, scrubbing both hands through his hair, scalp cool with sweat as a gale of wind blows. He looks up, and the sky has darkened, that rare morning sunshine nowhere to be seen. 

He opens his eyes. Christopher is sitting a ways away looking queasy. Joyce is hugging the life out of Jonathan, kissing his cheek, hand in his hair. Bernier and Taylor are stabbing the new wave of geeks. Steve isn't worried, there aren't a quarter as many as there had been. 

The smell is barbaric. 

"Don't relax too quickly, kid," Hopper says, "we still gotta round up the bodies." 

Steve laughs morosely, secretly pleased when Hopper pats him on the shoulder. His back fucking hurts and he stinks of gore and zombie gunk. Dead material somehow slimy and dry as bark at once, Steve wants a shower, and a hug from you, in that specific order. 

"You okay?" Jonathan asks him, squinting. There's blood splattered against his forehead. 

"They had to do this today?" Steve asks. "This is my favourite shirt. I'm never gonna get the guts out–" 

A scream splits the air. 

"The quad," Hopper announces. "Taylor, Bernier, keep going. Everyone else, with me." 

His blood ice in his veins, Steve runs with the rest of the group. He realises he's left his crowbar with Taylor and grimaces, pulling the gun from his holster and knocking off the safety mechanism. Steve isn't good with a gun. He only ever used one right at the start, when he hadn't known that sound to a geek is like a porch light to moths. That, and he'd run out of ammo. 

"Oh, goddammit." 

There's a crowd of geeks they must've missed around the side of the town hall. Hopper immediately starts yelling at a young teenager screaming in front of the gym to get back inside. 

Steve's okay, his heart's fine, and then he sees you. You're wrist deep in brains, surrounded by bodies and coated in a black spray of blood. It's in your hair, your eyebrows, all over your cheek and your shoulder. 

He nearly wrenches Livingstone off of his feet as he bursts forward to help you, gun raised and poised. He shoots and drives forward. One geek, two. Three, five, he loses count. He gets so close he can hear your panting breath, not panicked but struggling to keep going. 

"Fucker," he says, one geek left between you and safety. 

You scramble to the side. Steve shoots it point black in the back of the head. It falls down slow, and then it thunks against your shoes. 

You reach for him on automatic as you pull your feet from under him, treading over the soft of the geeks shoulders and into Steve's waiting arms. He holds the gun away from you to click on the safety, shoving it back into his borrowed holster. 

"You're okay?" you ask loudly. 

"I'm fine, what are you doing out here? You should've stayed inside the pantry." 

"Says who?" you ask, squeezing him so tightly he feels his skin bruising in the shapes of your arms. 

"Says everyone!" he shouts, squeezing you back just as hard. 

You catch your breath together. His hands rove over your back, checking and rechecking that you're real and you're not hurt. He pushes you away from him to check your front properly, hand on your face, your arms. 

"I'm fine," you say, "I'm perfect." 

"You have more blood on you than the rest of us put together." 

You hum unhappily. "I think I got a fresh one in the artery. It sprayed like a fountain, it was–" You sigh, stroking a loose curl of dirtied hair from his eyes. "It was disgusting." 

He wants to kiss you, but he's normal, and you're both plastered in blood. He's less normal as he wraps his forearm behind your head and forces your face into his neck, groaning in an exhaustive relief. Your warm breath against his skin is everything he could ever ask for. 

"Stay inside, next time," he murmurs. 

"Not a chance." 

"Think I can give him a citation?" Steve hears Hopper ask. 

Joyce gasps through a laugh. "They're cute!" 

"This is a public space." 

Steve huffs a laugh against your ear. "Holy shit, you scared the fuck out of me." 

"I had to know you were okay." 

His hand slides down your shoulders, searching for something he can't explain. "I'm okay. We're okay, honey. You can relax."

The last of your resistance ebbs away. You melt into his arms, and Steve pretends for your sake that he can't feel you shaking like a leaf. You just tore your way through a herd to make sure he was okay: you're the bravest girl he's ever met.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[bobgasm]

unholy | r.a

pairing: single dad!rhett abbott x ofc!faith jones word count: 7639 warnings: establish relationship, fluff, high school reunion, drinking, mentions of murder/cover up, age gap [23/31] smut, nsfw [18+ only], sex in the chapel, slightly religious undertones, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, rhett has a breeding kink [so does faith], daddy kink, pregnancy kink, bull riding [not rhett], sex in a field, rhett gets choked,

summary: in which rhett’s daughters meddle once again and it sees him and miss faith making an appearance at his high school reunion

author’s note: inspired by unholy by miley cyrus. a huge thank you to my bby morgan (@attapullman) who listened to me rant and rave about these characters and helped me create this cute lil family 🥰

tlhc oneshot | masterlist

Rhett had done his best to hide the invitation to his high school reunion, but with a pair of nosey twin daughters and a girlfriend who was just as curious, he wasn’t surprised when they sat him down to question him about it. 

His girlfriend, Faith, was a little more understanding of his reservations. He’d started to build a great life outside of Wabang, and to dig up some of those old memories would be hard. He was still the younger brother of Perry Abbott, the man who’d murdered his wife, and the youngest son of Royal Abbott, who’d helped him cover it up. While he was working on building bridges to accept his family, but also prove he wasn’t like them, to be put in a place where that was all anyone seemed to care about…yeah, he wasn’t excited in the least. 

Still, his daughters persisted. Eventually, they convinced Faith it would be good for them both. Describing exactly what dress she should wear to the gathering, while still in discussion about what Rhett should wear. 

“Amy said it’s all anyone in town is talking about,” TJ gushed, immediately looking at Hannah for confirmation. 

“Don’t you want to see your old friends?” Hannah asked. 

At nine, the twins were relentless. Stubborn just like their father, and passionate for things they cared about. Rhett couldn’t fault it, he really couldn’t. He only had himself to blame. He was kind and loving and patient with them, everything Royal wasn’t. When he was upset, he let his fists do the talking. Rhett made sure he communicated his feelings and that he was never mad or upset with them, that he would always love them.

It was important to him that they knew nothing but adoration and support from their father. That they could talk to him about their feelings and he would do his best to help them find a solution. Even when they were mad at him he would still tell them he loved them and kiss them goodnight. 

“You’ve made some good points, but ultimately I think it’s time we let dad think about it,” Faith stepped in. Rhett cast her a grateful look before smiling at his daughters. 

“You promise to actually think about it?” Hannah stared him down pointedly, hands on her hips. 

“I promise,” he assured her. “Go brush your teeth. I’ll be in t’ check on you both shortly.”

They did as they were asked, leaving Faith to handle the dad situation for them. She’d told them she was only onboard if Rhett was, but they didn’t know she had a little more persuasion than them. Leaning into his side a little more, pressing a kiss to his cheek, a couple days worth of stubble scratching her lips. 

“They know how closed off you used to be. They’ve seen you making progress with the other mom’s and dad’s, and just want to see you take back your life,” she told him softly. 

He rumbled out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “The first two sentences are them. The bit about takin’ back my life? That’s your words,” he muttered. 

“No, they’re yours,” she corrected him. “They’re what you said to me after all that shit came out about who my dad is, and the state I worked myself into trying to imagine how you’d react to it all. People are going to talk about it whether you go or not, Rhett. It’s whether you want the power to control the narrative, or let them come to their own wrongful conclusions about your lack of attendance.”

“I jus’ don’t want any more bad attention brought t’ Ma or Amy,” he said, closing his eyes as she cupped his cheek and placed a soft kiss to his forehead. 

“Quit worrying, cowboy,” she soothed. “Let’s go say goodnight to the girls, hm?”

In the weeks leading up to the reunion, Rhett completely forgot about it. He admitted to Faith when he’d responded that he’d be in attendance with his girlfriend, she’d marked it on the calendar and organised with Cece for her to have the girls that night. 

The plan was to be in Wabang by mid afternoon so Rhett and Faith could get ready. The girls were thrilled he’d agreed to go, and had taken it upon themselves to find an outfit for him that would match Faith’s. She’d found a cute tulip shaped dress that was more red than it was rusty orange, but the suit they wanted him to wear was the perfect match. A dark green piece that they wanted him to wear with a white shirt underneath. 

Faith had picked out a simple silver chain to wear with it as well. The grouchy man shot down every idea for some rings or a watch, but he allowed the necklace. All three of his girls were more than happy he’d even agreed to that. 

Rhett let the girls help him get ready, like they had done previously for his first few dates with Faith. They liked that he let them fuss with his hair without any complaints, even though they knew he’d constantly run his hands through it. He felt naked without a hat keeping his hair from falling in his face, but a hat wasn’t an option, apparently. 

Overdressed and out of place, he knew they’d both stick out like a sore thumb. Wabang wasn’t the kind of place where people dressed up unless it was for church, and even then, cowboy hats and boots were the norm. He felt awkward, and knew he’d want to change into something he felt more comfortable in, so he kept a change of clothes of himself and Faith in his truck. If they were enjoying themselves, they could change and head to the bar like he knew everyone would do. He wanted to make sure to be prepared for every outcome. And if they weren’t having a good time, they could leave and head back to the Abbott ranch. 

He indulged Cece with conversation while Amy and the twins checked on Faith. Since Faith had joined his little family unit, he’d made more of an effort to be around his mom. He wasn’t the only one betrayed by what Perry and Royal had done. He’d slowly come to realise that and had apologised to her one night about closing himself off. 

Cece had understood, of course she had, but to her it felt like she’d lost all of her family. She was left to raise Amy while Rhett moved away to raise his own daughters. He came by almost every weekend so they all had some kind of relationship, but it was tense. Amy doted on the twins, loving that she had baby cousins, and Cece appreciated that she had a relationship with all of her grandchildren. But she missed her son. She watched him grow into an amazing parent without much help from her, and it hurt. 

It had taken a long time to get back to a good place where they could talk freely to each other, without it ending in an argument. They both knew Faith had been the one who’d brought them back together, so it only made sense that Cece was the first person who knew Rhett wanted to marry her. 

She’d seen it from their first interaction. The way she loved his daughters like they were her own. The love and wonder that shone in his eyes whenever he looked at her, like he couldn’t believe his luck. It had meant so much to Cece that she had her son back, and she’d expressed her love for Faith to him. Telling him that she brought him out of his comfort zone and challenged him in the best way, and without her, it might’ve taken longer for them to grow close again. 

She didn’t know when Rhett was going to propose, but she told him that the girls needed to be involved. They were the ones who set them up, after all. If it weren’t for their meddling, he never would’ve found her. 

Rhett knew he was lucky. He counted his blessings every day. Waking up next to a woman who loved him and his kids was something he’d lost hope at finding a long time ago. 

His nerves for the reunion were more for the big reveal of what Faith was wearing, if he was being honest. He knew she was going to look beautiful no matter what, but when Amy, Hannah and TJ announced that she was coming downstairs, his palms started sweating. He imagined this feeling would be ten times worse at their own wedding, but it only made his excitement bubble that much more. 

Faith Abbott. He didn’t even need to ask, he knew the answer would be a resounding yes. 

As Faith made her way downstairs, she met Rhett’s eye and beamed brightly at him. He wondered if he looked starstruck, because he definitely felt like there was a stupid look on his face. Breath caught in his throat as she posed on the stairs for a couple of photos the twins insisted on. 

“Doesn’t she look beautiful, daddy?”

Rhett could tell you every discernible difference between his identical twin daughters, but at that moment, he had no idea who asked him. And honestly, all he could do was dumbly nod and try to swallow the lump in his throat. 

“Yeah, she does,” he agreed, taking her into his arms and stealing her breath away with a kiss. “Absolutely stunning.”

“Surprised the stetson hasn’t made an appearance,” Faith teased, swiping some lipstick from his mouth with her thumb. 

“We hid it,” Amy stated proudly. Rhett had found it and thrown it in the back of the truck for safe keeping. Not that he didn’t trust them, but he didn’t like to go far without it. 

Faith thanked her for her help while Cece gushed about how gorgeous they both looked, insisting on a couple of photos of them together. 

“C’mon Ma, it’s not like we’re off t’ prom,” Rhett fussed. 

“You didn’t go t’ prom,” she pointed out. “You ditched t’ go t’ a tailgate.”

Faith grinned. “Please, just a couple for me?”

He’d do anything she asked, folding almost immediately. Keeping his arm around her waist as she helped him pose and settle against him. Cece and the girls all took a few quick photos and instructed them how to pose. Even with Rhett’s grumbling, he obliged. Eventually insisting they were going to be late, kissing the girls on their cheeks before ushering Faith out the door and into his truck. 

Faith asked if there were any people he wanted to see, holding his hand as they drove down the dirt road. She saw his jaw tense and his grip tighten in hers. 

“We don’t have to stay long,” she assured him. “We can ditch it if you’re not having a good time…get drunk at a bar instead.”

He smiled, raising her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You look too good t’ go t’ a dinky ol’ country bar, Lil Lady.”

He wasn’t about to reveal that he’d thought of every outcome. Used to his kids getting messy or hating being so dressed up, it was second nature to bring extra clothes. He didn’t want Faith to think he didn’t appreciate the effort she’d put into her outfit tonight. She looked good, so good that he wanted to show her off. So good that he’d planned to take advantage of her in that outfit, and he knew she’d be more than willing. 

“Thanks, Handsome Cowboy.”

When they arrived at the highschool, Rhett was out of the truck and walking to the other side to help Faith out. She was used to his old school chivalry. Waiting patiently with a smile for him to get to her door and help her out, large hands settled comfortably on her hips as he brought her to the ground. She indulged him in a kiss, slow and sweet. 

“Y’ready?” He asked her, bumping his nose against hers. 

“Are you?”

Rhett chuckled softly. “No, but we’re here, may as well get it over with, hm?”

He kissed her once again, slipping his hand into hers and leading her toward the school. He hadn’t told Faith much about his school experience, but then again, it wasn’t much to write home about. He showed up, did what he needed to do, and socialised a little. Enough that people knew who he was, but that was a given in a small place like Wabang. 

He kept to himself – school wasn’t for everyone. When Rebecca, Perry’s wife, went missing during his senior year, everyone started looking at him differently. They’d whisper about her disappearance and throw looks of pity his way. 

Of course, when it came out a few years later that Perry had been responsible for her disappearance and subsequent murder, the looks of pity turned into looks of disgust. Then word got around that Royal had helped him cover it up. 

Rhett had been dealing with a lot at that time. His daughters had just turned one, he was at the crux of his career in bull riding, and he was winning every event he had. The shit with his family had thrown a spanner in the works and he’d had a particularly bad ride one night, made worse by the news that the girls’ mom had been involved in a car accident…he was a mess. Barely scraping the bottom of the barrel to hold his shit together, but assuming that his daughters had been in the wreck too. 

Cecelia had watched from the stand as Rhett took the call. She knew something horrible had happened, so had told Amy to run to the truck and get it started, she’d grab Rhett. He hadn’t even thought that his mom would give a shit, so when she’d grabbed him and told him to pull it together until he had all the information, he understood a little bit more about how she was dealing with everything. 

Cece knew how to prioritise. She had gone through hell and back with Perry and Royal, but Rhett needed her. He’d never ask for her help, so if she told him how things were going to work, he’d listen. She pulled herself together in a moment where their worlds had fallen apart, but the punches kept coming. She helped him keep a steady head until they had all the information. 

Rhett had never been more grateful, but it took him years to properly understand that was what a parent did. That was what Royal had done for Perry, in their own fucked up way. Cece had been the rock that Rhett needed in a very difficult time, and he had no idea. Still a kid himself, trying to juggle his sister in law’s murder, his career, and becoming a parent, he was barely keeping his head above water. 

His daughters had been left with a friend of their biological mother, Sally, who’d been drunk and gone out to get more alcohol. She’d caused a huge crash and her car had gone through the barrier on the bridge. The officer said it would’ve been over very quickly, but they couldn’t locate the babies after finding empty car seats. 

Rhett had called everyone he knew trying to find his daughters. Eventually, one of the nurses answered the phone belonging to Sally and passed it to Rhett. He’d sobbed in relief that someone was with them – that they were okay, and had to break the news that Sally had died. 

They’d been through a lot in their short lives, but he did everything he could to make sure they had the best upbringing they could. Giving up his dream to become a professional bull rider and prioritising their happiness over his own. 

It was how he ended up meeting Faith, by his daughters insisting he start dating. They weren’t oblivious to their friends’ parents gossiping about their dad. They played like they never heard them and ignored their prying questions until they had enough information gathered to sit him down and give him a presentation. It contained the type of woman they thought he’d like, the kind of dates they could go on, and Rhett had been shocked. He’d kind of expected, from their prior questioning, that they wanted him to start dating. He never anticipated they’d take matters into their own hands, however. 

They’d been his biggest supporters when Faith started coming around more. They adored her, and she adored them. She even made it known to Rhett that they didn’t have to have one on one dates all the time, and that they were part of his life. She wanted to get to know them better too. That kind of effort was what the other women lacked – they only wanted one night of fun, and he was well over that part of his life. 

The effort was so attractive to him, that he wasn’t surprised he fell head over heels in love with her. He realised it one morning when Faith hadn’t left for work early, and had instead made them all breakfast and was helping do the girls’ hair. He could see his little family was so happy and whole, having found their missing piece. 

His point was proved when the girls sat them both down a couple weeks ago and gave them another presentation on why Faith should be their mom officially and marry their dad, but also give them more siblings. Faith had asked him later that night if he’d let her finish her study first before they tried to expand their family. Her exact words were, “give me a year and then I’ll let you put a baby in me.” 

Rhett had never heard anything so sexy. 

He could wait a year. He’d already waited long enough to find her, so a year to let her finish her study was nothing. Plus, she was excited as he was to grow their family. That knowledge alone was more than enough reassurance that she wasn’t going anywhere. 

Rhett showed Faith around the school. Showing her his favourite places to hide when he had a class that he wasn’t interested in a subject. Eventually, they made their way to the gymnasium. He expected they’d be the most dressed up, but it turned out they fit right in. He recognised a few people, some of the guys still wearing their hat or boots. 

“You want a drink?” He asked Faith, feeling her squeeze his hand as she smiled at him. 

“Sounds good.”

They quickly got themselves some drinks, mingling with a few people who were excited to see Rhett. He introduced them to Faith and she happily chatted away to them. Loving getting to know everyone, and sharing what she did for work and how they met. 

Everyone Faith spoke to was lovely, but it was exhausting work. She asked Rhett a couple times to get her a fresh drink, earning a kiss on the cheek before he dutifully obliged, grateful for the brief intermission it gave him. Talking himself up wasn’t something he liked to do, but he was proud of how far he’d come from being that young kid. Faith sang his praises whenever she could, enjoying the chance to brag. She loved her little family and she wanted everyone to know. 

As the night went on and more drinks were consumed, they’d been pulled in for a few photos with some of Rhett’s old friends. Faith was glad to see Rhett had loosened up a bit and was enjoying himself. Sending smiles her way or drawing her near to steal a kiss. 

PDA wasn’t typically his thing. She didn’t mind at all because they were usually accompanied by their kids, but she loved seeing this side of him. This man was so proud to call her his girl that he made sure everyone knew it. He told everyone she was studying to be a Social Worker, specialising with youths. She loved teaching swimming, “that’s how we met, you know,” and she was a huge part of the community. 

He didn’t miss the way her look had changed from adoring to sultry, like she’d have her way with him right there if he didn’t shut up soon. She turned the lull in conversation in her favour, excusing herself to the bathroom. Rhett would find her, he always did. 

“You should come to the new bar in town.” Rhett barely registers who’s talking, nodding in agreement. Too preoccupied with Faith and where she’d disappeared to for him to care about anything else. 

She wanted him, and he wanted her just as badly. 

He found himself asking where it was. Wabang was familiar in some aspects, but new developers meant buildings had been built on land he knew used to belong to other families. With the information barely stored, he says they’ll be there. Excusing himself with a polite nod of his head as he exited the gymnasium. 

He bypassed the bathroom with a few people standing outside, hearing the faint click of her heels as he took a left and heard the heavy doors to the chapel open. The chapel was a small room, enough chairs for a class to attend the morning Mass that used to be held on Wednesday’s before class. 

He found Faith admiring the stained glass behind the altar, making sure to click the door shut behind him. She cast a look over her shoulder, smiling bashfully. 

“Y’sure picked a hell of a room for this rendezvous, Lil Lady,” Rhett said, slowly making his way down the aisle between the rows of chairs. 

“Forgive me, Father, for I’m about to sin,” Faith replied as he stopped in front of her, tilting her chin up with his forefinger. 

“Thought we would’ve left by now so I didn’t bring a condom,” he confessed, thumb lightly stroking her cheek. 

“What if we just…didn’t use condoms anymore?” She suggested, running her hands up his chest. “I want a baby with you, Rhett. I don’t want to wait for our family to grow.”

He groaned as he slid his hand into her hair, cupping the base of her skull and kissing her with a fiery tenacity that had her knees weak. She slid her arms around his neck, fisting his hair as his hands slid down her body. Squeezing her breasts, gripping her hips and groping her ass. 

“Fuck, y’sure about this?” He asked breathlessly, eyes finding hers as he rested their foreheads together. He wanted it more than anything. He wanted her, their family, this little life they’d perfectly curated. 

Faith knew she’d asked for more time and that now she was taking it back. She was scrapping the timeline they’d agreed on. It was huge, but Rhett and his daughters had given him something she’d never known she was missing. A family. Community. People to fuss over and adore with her entire being. People who had welcomed her with open arms, despite her past, because they wanted her to be part of their future. They saw her in their future. More than anything, she wanted a future. She finally saw what her future held, and that was being a mom to her boyfriend’s adorable twin daughters and expanding their little family. Being a loving girlfriend, and eventually wife, to a man who’d proved time and time again that she was worth the effort. 

“I want everything with you, Rhett Abbott. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” she confessed just as breathlessly. He dipped his head to pepper kisses down her neck and over her collarbone, tugging one of her breasts free from her dress and wrapping his mouth 

around her pebbled nipple. “Rhett, fuck me.”

She roughly palmed him over his trousers, fingers trying to free him from his confines. Eventually popping the button and reaching into his pants to wrap her hand around his growing length. 

“Fuck,” he groaned against her chest, hitching her dress up around her waist. Fingers seeking her warm, wet centre. “Y’ haven’t worn panties all night?”

“Nuh uh,” she mumbled, drawing his head back for another searing kiss. She moaned as his fingers sought her swollen clit, fingers delving into her heat as she swiped her thumb across the tip of his cock to elicit the same sound from him. “Need you, Rhett, please.”

“G’na put a baby in you,” he growled, backing her up to the wall where she had previously been admiring the stained glass. “Fuck, Faith.”

She keened at his touch, whining as he removed his fingers from her cunt and replaced them with the tip of his cock. “Put a baby in me, Rhett.”

His lips claimed hers as he hitched her leg up around his waist and sunk himself into her. Groaning as he felt her tight, slick pussy stretch and relax around him. His tongue slipping into her mouth, tasting the wine she’d been drinking and swallowing her moans as he found his rhythm. 

Faith gasped as he bit down on her lip, her hands tightening in his hair. “Fuck,” she groaned, his fingers seeking her clit. “Feels so fucking good, Daddy.”

“Yeah, y’ like that Daddy’s gonna fuck a baby into ya, hm?” He said, lips and teeth nipping at her neck. “Fill you with my seed? Fuck, such a needy lil pussy. Grippin’ me s’tight.” He groaned as he felt her clench down around him, her breathy symphony of moans like music to his ears. 

“Can I cum on your cock, Daddy?”

He stuttered out a “yes,” losing himself in the feeling of her body. The way she chanted his name like a prayer, begging for him to cum inside her. Put a baby in her. Hips stuttering as his own high caught up to him and crashed into him like a bull in a china shop. Bottoming out as he reached absolution, not a care in the world as they defiled a holy sanctuary, wrapped totally in and of themselves. 

He kissed her as they came down from their highs, savouring the taste of her lips. The feeling of utter euphoria. The way she sighed and tugged at his hair as his mouth slowly devoured hers. Languidly, breathlessly. 

Faith felt exhilarated as they walked hand in hand back to the gymnasium. Rhett had tried to help her tame her hair as much as they could, but he couldn’t do much for the new hickies adorning her neck. Luckily her hair hid most of the small bruises, but she still felt like they were visible. 

They were planning on leaving, heading home to continue what they’d started in the chapel, then Rhett mentioned a new bar they’d been invited to. He’d blindly agreed, promising he’d make it up to her later if they just went for one drink. Faith knew he was enjoying himself, even if he didn’t admit it out loud. She could see it in the way he carried himself. Confident yet relaxed. It suited him. 

They headed out to the truck, promising a few people they’d been talking to that they’d stop by for a few drinks, if not to check the place out. Rhett grabbed the backpack from the bed of the truck, previously secured into the netting near the cab, and started to change right there in the parking lot. 

“Rhett Abbott, did you expect to have a good time tonight?” Faith asked him, taking hold of his jacket and folding it neatly. 

“I expected we’d be overdressed,” he replied, shooting her a wink as he pulled his boots off and changed from his grey trousers into a familiar pair of jeans. “There’s stuff for you in there, too. No panties, ‘m afraid.”

Faith laughed at the cheeky glint to his eye, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. She handed him his belt from the bag, climbing into the truck before taking her heels off and attempting to shimmy into a pair of her own jeans. By the time Rhett slid into the driver’s seat, she’d managed to change into a tee and donned a bra underneath, her dress now stuffed into the bag. Slipping her feet into some socks and a pair of cowboy boots Rhett had gifted her earlier in the year for her birthday. 

Faith appreciated being able to change. The heels had started hurting her feet, and the dress was gorgeous, but she felt more confident in jeans. 

It was rare that Rhett dressed up, and she’d enjoyed the new look for as long as he’d worn it. She’d be the first to admit that she missed his soft jeans and stetson, happy to discover that the familiar hat had found its way back atop of his head. Watching him with a smile on her face as they drove to the bar. 

They arrived and made their way inside, barely any time to wonder if it was the right place when a few guys hollered for them both. Waving them over, Rhett encouraged Faith to go while he grabbed them a couple of drinks. 

“Glad you both made it!” Adam said with a grin. 

“Thanks for inviting us,” Faith responded in kind, slipping into the booth next to Adam’s wife, Erin, who happily made room. 

“I’m just glad I’m not the only woman here anymore,” she joked. “The other wives don’t come out much. Too busy at home with the kids.”

Faith nodded in understanding. “Do you and Adam have any kids?”

“Three. Youngest is ten,” she replied with a smile. “You?”

“We only have Rhett’s two at the moment,” Faith said. “They sat us down and gave us a ‘we want siblings’ presentation.” 

Erin threw her head back in laughter. Faith grinned as she caught Rhett’s eye, making his way through the crowd to their table with a couple of drinks. 

“How old are they?”

“Just turned nine,” Rhett answered, wearing a small smile. “Little demons.”

“Do you have any pictures of them?” Erin asked. 

Rhett placed a drink in front of Faith before handing over his phone. Faith unlocked it and opened his pictures, swiping through to show Erin. 

“They have Rhett’s scowl,” Faith said fondly, searching for the photo she’d sent him of the three of them sitting in silence on the sofa one night. They’d been pouting about not being allowed to have their own phones, but Rhett said they were too young. They’d tried to ask Faith, but she also told them ‘no’. It ended up being a rather quiet night, the girls going to bed early after dinner, leaving Rhett and Faith to watch a movie by themselves. 

Erin showed a few pictures of her own kids, two sons and a daughter. Faith enjoyed the conversation while Rhett chatted shit with a few of the guys, occasionally sparing Faith a glance and always delighted to see her enjoying herself. 

He kept an eye on her as she and Erin wandered up to the bar to get everyone some more drinks. 

“Do you miss it?” Cory asked Rhett. 

“What’s that?” He’d missed most of the conversation, taking a sip of his beer. 

Cory asked again, “bull ridin’,”

Rhett gave a shrug. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “Don’t regret givin’ it up since it meant I could spend more time with m’ daughters.”

“He had a boys night with some of the other dad’s and I got sent a video of him ridin’ a mechanical bull at the bar,” Faith chimes in, passing out a few beers to the guys. “Never saw him on a real bull, but it looked like he’s still got it.”

There were a few laughs at her words before someone pointed out that there was a mechanical bull here. Rhett quickly shut down any ideas anyone had about him getting on, despite the protests and words of encouragement thrown his way. He was adamant that was a one time drunken thing he’d done, purely to prove he didn’t just like the cowboy aesthetic. 

Faith had been curious about attempting to ride a mechanical bull at least once in her life. She’d been too drunk at her friend’s birthday when they’d specifically gone to a bar so she could ride one, and after Rhett had gotten on the bull at that same bar, she’d asked him questions. He’d made it look so easy, and sure it came down to years of practice riding actual bulls at the rodeo, but he’d indulged her questions. Given her pointers that she’d stored away for when she actually got the chance to get on one. 

“You should do it,” Rhett told her quietly. 

He knew she’d gone quiet for a reason, catching her deep in thought while everyone was trying to convince him instead. She leant into him, letting him press a kiss to her temple. 

“Hm, yeah?” She replied, not entirely convinced. 

Rhett hummed in response. “Yeah. Y’ want to, right?” She nodded, so he continued. “Then do it.”

“Okay,” she agreed softly. 

“C’mon,” he encouraged her. “Faith’s gonna ride the bull!”

The group they were with cheered, making their way to where the bull was set up, while Adam asked one of the staff if they could get it started. Pointing over at Faith to show who wanted a turn. Rhett walked her up to the bull, giving her a reassuring kiss. 

“Y’ got this, baby,” he told her. “Remember what I taught ya?”

She nodded as he lifted her up and got her set up on the bull. “Hold on tight, squeeze those thighs,” she recounted for him. “Don’t fight it.”

Rhett grinned. “That’s my girl. Give ‘em hell, Lil Lady.”

He wandered back to their group and she made sure she was holding on tight before nodding at the staff member who was in charge of the machine. He switched the bull on and heard the cheers of the crowd, but her focus was on staying up. Making sure she didn’t fight the jerky motions but instead went with it. Throwing her hand up for balance, grinning as she whipped around and used her legs to stay on. 

She couldn’t tell you if time went faster or slower while up there, but she understood the feeling Rhett had done his best to describe. The way the crowd seemed to electrify you while you were up there. It was addictive. 

The bull slowly came to a stop and she exhaled heavily, basking in the uproar of the crowd as Rhett strode towards her. Planting his hand on her head as he helped her off the bull, stealing a kiss that took her breath away. 

“That was th’ sexiest fucken thing I’ve ever seen,” he told her breathlessly, making a point to squeeze her ass and bring her body closer as he went in for another kiss. 

They didn’t stick around long. Enough to have another drink and share the videos some people had taken of Faith. Enough to know that Rhett was more wound up than she initially thought. Enough to know that he wasn’t the only one aroused by her performance – being hit on by no less than three guys who hadn’t gotten the hint that she was taken. That she was Rhett Abbott’s girl. 

Rhett’s old school friends knew him to be a bit of a hot head. Throw punches first, ask questions later. They’d kept an eye on him as he sipped his beer and watched Faith shoot them down, wondering how often this happened for him to seem unbothered by it. 

In truth, Rhett was bothered by it. Every time it happened, to be exact. He knew his girlfriend was young and gorgeous. He also knew that he was the one who took her home every night. He was the one she loved and he found comfort in that. 

He had trust…he had Faith. 

Faith watched him pull the truck into the west paddock instead of following the dirt road up to the house. She didn’t make a comment about it, but wondered what he had planned. 

The Abbott ranch had gone through some changes over the years. Rhett regretted not sticking around to help tend to the cattle and maintain the property, but Cece had done what she’d needed to do. She’d downsized the amount of land they owned, mostly to pay off the legal fees of Perry and Royal, and help keep her and Amy afloat. Another chunk was sold to developers who had yet to do anything with it, but Cece and Amy had transformed the ranch into a horse sanctuary. They trained and broke in horses, as well as ran camps during the school breaks. They’d done well for themselves and Rhett couldn’t be prouder of them – he just wished he could’ve been more help. 

The first time he’d brought Faith home to meet his Ma was the first time he’d actually seen the work Cece and Amy had put into the ranch. They’d been overjoyed to give them a full tour, even though Rhett heard stories about it from Hannah and TJ. Faith had helped him put his feelings into perspective about everything, that he wasn’t letting his mother and niece down by prioritising his daughters. Family was about compromise and they all had to make sacrifices in order to get to where they were today, not just him. 

“If Cece doesn’t hold a grudge, neither should you. The past is the past, and you can only work on mending your relationships so they’re stronger in the future,” she’d told him. 

She’d been right. He’d slowly talked all the past shit out with Cece and they were growing closer again. Things would never be how they were before shit went down, but it was several steps in the right direction. They weren’t the same people anymore. Rhett was beginning to realise that more and more, and accepting that change was huge for him. 

Faith stayed in the cab of the truck while Rhett set up the back. He’d made sure they had pillows and blankets and had even bought an air mattress to lie on. He knew how much Faith loved stargazing and camping, and while they weren’t in a tent, he hoped it would suffice. 

She heard him jump off the back of the truck and looked out her window as he opened her door. 

“What are you planning?” She asked with a slight teasing in her tone. 

“Camping,” he replied. “In a sense. C’mon.”

Faith couldn’t keep the grin from her face as Rhett helped her up into the bed of the truck, taking her boots off before she collapsed onto the makeshift bed. Rhett joined her a moment later, peppering her face with soft kisses as she laughed breathily. 

“What’s the occasion?”

“Just ‘cause I love you,” he said simply. “Can’t I do something nice for my girl every now an’ then?”

Faith hummed as she pressed her lips to his, combing her fingers through his hair. “Here I was thinking it was because you weren’t finished watching me ride,” she teased. 

He easily rolled them over so she was on top of him, straddling his waist. Her hands resting on his chest, his on her thighs. 

“I’ll never get enough of watching y’ ride,” he said, rolling his hips so she could feel the swell of his arousal. 

“Yeah?” She mewled, rolling her own hips against his. “Y’ want me to ride you, Handsome Cowboy?”

“Fuck yeah I do, Lil Lady,” he replied with a grin. “First, I want y’ to ride m’ face.”

Faith’s breath hitched as Rhett placed his hands on her inner thighs and effortlessly moved her so she was sitting on his chest. Reaching down, she twirled some of his hair around her finger. “Can anyone see us out here?”

“Not unless they’ve got binoculars,” he assured her. “Y’ gonna be a good girl and ride Daddy’s face?”

Faith was quick, it always stunned Rhett how eager she was for him. The first one to get naked. The first one to go down – it turned her on more than receiving, though she never said ‘no’ when he buried his face in her cunt and drew orgasm after orgasm from her. He shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d be more than willing to ride his face, yet he sensed her hesitation as she hovered just above his lips. 

“I said sit on my face, Faith,” he growled, forcing her down the rest of the way until his mouth was covered. Tongue laying flat against her slick pussy. 

She moaned as he guided her hips, helping her find a rhythm that drove her wild. Hands braced on the roof of the truck cab and she began riding his face with reckless abandon. Gasping and moaning as he smacked her ass or groped her chest. Moaning against her core as her clit brushed against his nose. 

“Fuck,” she groaned, her moans growing louder and more frequent. The pitch changing as she sought her orgasm. “RhettRhettRhett,” she chanted, succumbing to the bliss that erupted in her stomach and spread like shockwaves throughout her entirety. 

Rhett lapped and savoured the taste of Faith on his tongue. Planting a firm kiss to her cunt before sucking a bruise into her inner thigh. 

“That’s my girl,” he praised, grinning up at her with her arousal glistening in the moonlight on his chin. 

“Wanna ride your cock, Daddy,” she panted breathlessly. “Want you to cum inside me again.”

Rhett groaned at her words, hands groping her hips. “Y’ really want Daddy t’ put a baby in ya, hm?”

Faith nodded, bottom lip captured between her teeth as she gazed down at him. “Wanna ride you ‘til you knock me up, Daddy.”

Rhett was more than willing to oblige, quickly undressing and pulling Faith back into his lap. She slid her arms up his chest, fingers skimming over his tattoos – one on his ribs, the bull on his chest to the tiny footprints in the shape of a heart over his heart. He smiled as he cupped her face, pressing his lips to hers. 

Faith reached between their bodies, gripping his cock and positioning his tip at her entrance. Rhett’s hands were on her hips as she slowly sank down on his length, gasping at the stretch and welcoming the familiarity. 

“Fill me so good, Daddy,” she praised, wiggling her hips a little to make Rhett groan. It was guttural and sent shivers down her spine. “So deep inside me.”

“Y’ look beautiful,” he told her, raising a hand to cup her face and draw her head down for a kiss. 

Faith indulged him for a bit, his cock nestled snugly inside her as she draped herself over him. Chests flush together and his arms wrapped around her back, holding her even closer. Her arms tucked around his head, small moans slipping past their lips. 

Rhett’s hands slid down to her ass, fingers gripping the supple flesh and lifting her slightly. Faith groaned and wiggled her hips, sinking back down on him as she broke their kiss. 

“Use your words if you want me to start riding you, Handsome Cowboy,” she told him, hands braced on his shoulders as she gave him a sultry smile. 

“Need y’ t’start ridin’ me, Lil Lady,” he told her breathlessly. “Y’ feel so good. Need more.”

Faith started rolling her hips, watching the pleasure in his face as she clenched her core and tightened around him. Rising off him slightly before taking him deep again and repeating the motion. Finding a steady rhythm as his hands slid up her body. Rough fingertips brushing against her sensitive nipples, pinching them harshly before taking them in his hands and massaging them gently. 

He knew Faith liked a little pain with her pleasure. Knew she was receptive to it. He watched the way her face contorted with the harsh pinch, felt the way she tightened around his cock. He groaned as she threw her head back, giving herself over to the pleasure. 

Rhett braced his feet, digging his heels into the soft air mattress as he started meeting her thrusts. Her short, sharp gasps filled his ears. Hand slipping on his chest to his neck.

“That’s it,” Rhett goaded her. “Squeeze m’ neck. Fuck.”

Faith groaned at his words but did as he asked, squeezing his neck and watching a delirious grin form on his face. “I’m gonna cum.” She panted, the coil in her abdomen moments away from snapping. “Feel s’good, Daddy. FuckFuckFuck.”

Rhett pinched her nipples once again, watching her throw her head back as her body tightened and spasmed. Dropping his hands to her hips, he kept her upright. Fucking her through her orgasm, flipping her onto her back and hooking her legs over his shoulders as he drove into her. 

“S’good to me,” she praised him, stroking his cheek as he braced himself on his forearms, lips mashing together in a desperate kiss as he reached his own orgasm. “Want all your cum inside me, Daddy. Fill me up real good. Show me how much you wanna knock me up.”

“Fuck, Faith,” he panted, dropping his head to her shoulder. Cock twitching and spilling inside her, her cunt milking his orgasm from him. “Fuck.”

“Just like that, Daddy,” she continued, running her hand through his hair. 

He dropped her legs from his shoulders, bodies still connected as he peppered kisses over her neck and chest. Nipping and sucking small bruises into her heated skin. 

“Love you s’much, Lil Lady,” he murmured against her skin. 

“Love you more, Handsome Cowboy.”

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x oc #rhett abbott x ofc #rhett abbott x faith jones #rhett x faith #single dad!rhett abbott #single dad!rhett #rhett abbott fanfic #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fanfiction #single dad!au

[orbleglorb]

hey not to start shit this long after blaseball ended. but im still pissed at how tgb treated its fans, especially the creatives.

there's the entire blaseball tcg thing. which isn't strictly tgb, a different game studio made it, but it really highlighted how tgb treated the fan creations as their own. they said "we just gave them summaries like 'nagomi mcdaniel is a japanese woman with a claw arm' so they're not copying from an artist" but like... that version of nagomi mcdaniel was MADE by the fanbase. NOT tgb. someone pitched the idea of nagomi being a japanese woman, and someone pitched the idea of crabs players carcinizing, and someone pitched the idea of nagomi having a claw arm. and all of those people were fans.

and, this is a much smaller gripe, but like, TGB has always relied on word of mouth to get people interested in blaseball. so like. those "stretch goals" at the beginning of fall ball relied on word of mouth. and they were pretty ambitious! considering how little marketing they have (from my perspective, anyway), a lot of that pressure was put on fans. so like. of course we only hit one of those goals. lmao.

and the "final goodbye" concert just really pisses me off. they couldn't even be assed to make anything as a proper farewell! they used FAN-MADE MATERIAL in their OFFICIAL goodbye party. fan-made material. they didn't consult the creators before using it. idk how all garages members felt about it, but i know some were pissed. because tgb is using something they made to give a sendoff instead of putting any fucking amount of effort into a goodbye. like, no final entity appearance? you couldn't have binky say goodbye? YOU COULDN'T HAVE PARKER TWEET GOODBYE? just rting the game band's announcement? that's lazy as fuck and a huge fuck you to the fans that made blaseball what it is, because it IS the fans that made blaseball what it is. fans made the lore. fans made the wiki. fans created plotlines like the shelled one. fans took site bugs and glitches and made them into huge events through the sheer power of storytelling and passion. fans have poured so much time into this game. developing strategies, loring players, loring TEAMS, setting up whole separate websites just to help newcomers and store info (including but not limited to the wiki and houstonspies.cyou), moderating and paying for those websites, analyzing stats, delving into fk, writing fanfiction, drawing fanart, donating money, roleplaying on twitter, REVIVING SALMON MODERATING SOFTWARE TO TRACK ILB WEATHER PATTERNS, writing research papers, writing songs, creating discord bots, AND MORE. fans have been the backbone of the blaseball community. and to not do anything to honor these people besides just using their own creation as a last-minute goodbye party? fucking pathetic.

tgb has just been so fucking terrible towards its fans. i'd go as far as to say that some creatives got taken advantage of. i love blaseball and i am forever grateful for this experience. i also wish tgb didn't fucking throw it away one afternoon. they announced blaseball was ending, shut down the server for the weekend, then re-opened it to have a pitiful goodbye party of fan-made material (that the keepers put on for us) that they used without permission. like how the fuck are we supposed to feel appreciated in any way? again, would it have fucking killed them to have parker tweet on his own? they say it was a long and hard decision but it really just feels like they decided they were done with blaseball and never wanted to touch it again, and it feels like nothing but a huge "FUCK YOU" to all of the fans that cared.

#blaseball #usually i do not put rants in the maintag but ive been stewing on this one for a long long time #and i just keep getting angrier and angrier #'we hope you support us in future projects :)' i hope you sorry mfers give us an incentive to come back #because this is bullshit

[cancerian-woman]

I won't be offended if you prefer to delete this but your post about Tyler had me thinking...

Caroline really made his grief over his mother dying about her so much so that she issued the worst ultimatum and left herself with...

A drunk old man that used to be her teacher.

A long time friend that never seemed like he got over Elena and definitely has codependent issues with his brother so much so that he sacrificed himself willingly a day after their wedding.

And a power hungry hybrid who gave her money he could more than afford to give and said pretty words but also tortured, enslaved and killed people she was connected to....and also definitely had codependent issues with his brother.

I cannot fathom it.

All true facts. It’s late here so a meta! :D

As a huge Forwood shipper and I’m equally very critical of them. It’s a great ship for them both at first, then becomes a ship only for Caroline’s needs and development which isn’t fair to Tyler That Klaroline/Steroline shadow made those fans believe Tyler was the worst Caroline could get. When in reality he was the BEST romantic partner and friend she ever had.

What upsets me more about that ultimatum that Caroline FORCED is that she’s the only one we see comforting Tyler after Carol’s death. Even before Carol died, and Tyler was skeptical about being alpha she uplifted him and Tyler heavily respected what she had to say and went full force with it. Mind you, this is the same Tyler that broke every bone in his body just to be with Caroline. Then re-agreed to slavery for Care. Forwood communicated with each other and called out their faults. The other tvdu ships weren’t doing that!—then we get this full arc of Caroline’s grief and remember she bluntly told Tyler to get over the fact that she hooked up with Klaus because of her impulses and she’s not good1!!1

The series wanted to bury Forwood and they did so in the worst ways imaginable. Caroline gets pregnant with Alaric’s babies forcibly. (I understand Candice was pregnant but they could’ve hid her belly so Caroline wasn’t pregnant.)-Oh and we can’t forget Alaric was in love with her and proposed.

Steroline was supposed to follow the friends to lovers build up the way Forwood did and it never appears that Stefan is all in the way Caroline is. Tbh, even before the wedding Stefan wanted out the relationship he tried multiple times to end things in s8. Caroline refused and wanted it to work. Building them up after Liz’s death was a choice. Stefan manipulated Caroline heavily to when it came Tyler and their relationship.

Klaroline has no obstacles to pass with them. Klaus may give Caroline pretty things, and money but emotionally he’s never shown to give Caroline any support. When Caroline saves Bonnie from those 12 witches which is her first huge kill(correct me if I’m wrong) since s2 she immediately goes to Klaus and he basically tells her to get away from him. Klaus mentions how she’s too good for that small town but Caroline had never said she hated her home. What she did hate was Klaus grown ass destroying shit. They never had a serious conversation about anything tbh. I did enjoy how Caroline called him out at first but TO’s “you aren’t the villain in my story.” Ruined that. Oh and lol these shippers get on Damon for his rape of Caroline yet somehow, someway excuses that Klaus attempted to rape Caroline too in Tyler’s body…. Anyways! I do think a lot of Klaroline is rooted in Klaus wanting control over Tyler, and Caroline is a way to exert control over Tyler because of his love for her.

Okay this is long af, sorry! To end this off Tyler loved Caroline for who she was. He never wanted her to change, he valued and respected her. Never abused her or anyone she loved. He listened to what she had to say. Caroline’s other love interests NEVER saw her the way Tyler did. Btw, I wish people understood Tyler never, not once slutshamed Caroline for having sex with someone else. He was only mad that she slept with Klaus as if Klaus did not ruin Tyler’s life and murdered his mother. There’s obviously a reason Caroline didn’t want Tyler to know and continued to ignore the boundaries he placed up in s5 so they could just go back to the way SHE wanted them to be. It’s sad they were ruined because 5B of Forwood has moments where you can forget their broken up just based on Forwood’s chemistry. I forgot to add, some fans pretend Tyler couldn’t give Caroline a good life. Tyler wasn’t financially struggling, and would’ve done anything she asked of him. I think it’s a little problematic that Tyler did say everything he liked about himself was Caroline lol. But, he wanted nothing but her and their happiness. Just without the enslavement from Klaus.

Thank you for the ask!

#Forwood #tyler lockwood #Caroline Forbes #Anti Steroline #Again stefan died to be free of that relationship bless that man heart fr #anti klaroline #anti stefan salvatore #anti damon salvatore #anti klaus mikaelson #driaresponds #sevensistersofsussex #Tvd #the vampire diaries #a lot of you k c e r s lack media literacy because Tyler never cheated on Caroline btw :) Klaus manipulated Caroline into thinking other :P