#and let’s just say i’m going to make 12 with this sound lmao

[brrbrina]

sapphire lies

a/n: hi!! I'm so excited for this !! let’s pretend mat barzal is a football player and not a hockey player lmao it just didn’t make sense to put him as a hockey player but i’ve been obsessed with him lately. also i have no idea if this will turn into a 3 chapter story, i hope you like it.

Blue eyes were adorned by stars that were only shown when a certain light would appear, as if a comet was shown in plain daylight time. A starlight she could only hope to see in her dreams, was it too selfish wishing that those eyes looked at her the way she looked at them?

She was taller, her arms were long and her fingertips were always colored by the season the year was on, her lips were plump as a peach, her hair was the prettiest shade you could never aspire to have, not even with a 12 hour shift at the most expensive salon; always adorned with a small bow that would match her clothes, this time, her bow was purple, her hair was put up in a ponytail, high enough to see the last name that would eventually hers..

“You look lovely” Robin said standing up to say hello to her future daughter in-law, “You are one to talk, you look fantastic” she said smiling at her, “Taylor, hi, i love your shorts you look so sporty today” That wasn’t true ,she was wearing a white shirt and denim shorts, she would’ve worn the jersey of the quarterback, but she didn’t.

joe b sent new message:

hey Tay i don’t mean to sound rude or anything but could you please stop wearing my jersey to the games? ik this is a weird thing to ask but i don’t want Kat to feel like she has any competition or anything.

not saying she has but

you know what i mean

Taylor didn’t reply to the text, in fact she cried like a newborn baby afterwards, she was really even planning on attending the game, but she knew Joe’s mom would attend, it became a tradition to watch his games together back when they were in high school. When he transferred to LSU, she was over the moon, Joe and Taylor had been best friends since she was 16 and he was 17, they met because Taylor needed a tutor in physics, and Joe needed a few bucks, their friendship skyrocketed since.

You sat next to Robin, your eyes were watching the game but your mind was somewhere else, you came to earth after the screaming noises that you heard beside you, LSU won 23-20 over the Auburn Tigers, you came back from your trance after Robin told you to come to the field with her and Katherine. It was a horrible idea, you were planning on leaving early but you couldn’t, as you stood there on the field, you watched Katherine jump into Joe's arms, kissing him and telling him how proud she was of him, she stood awkwardly, Robin was the next one to demonstrate her happiness of the winning game to Joe. He was called into the locker rooms after hugging his mom. As they were walking back to the sidelines to wait for him, an overwhelming feeling took over you, he didn’t peek at you, not even once;

“I’m going to head out I have a huge paper due tomorrow, it was nice seeing you” You said hugging Robin as she kissed you forehead “It was so nice seeing you, any chance I have and I’m taking you back home with me” she smiled, Taylor waved goodbye to Kat and made her way to her dorm.

She were out of breath, Joe came over that night, they had been sleeping together for about 4 months now, it was a sporadic thing that happened at what she thought was the right time. Contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t love with Joe before the sex started, not even a spark was there, Taylor knew he was hot, as fuck, Joe felt the same way about her.

The night it began she was wearing jeans and a shirt that showed off her collar, as she was talking and noticed Joe’s eyes drifting from hers, he began looking at her lips and then at her breasts, he was licking his lips and she were lost in the lust that now reined in his blue eyes. “Do you want to have sex?” you thought out loud, next thing you knew Joe’s back was covered in scratches and her neck and breasts were full of hickeys. But she didn’t fall in love with him for the great sex they were having, she fell in love because he was the last thing she saw before she went to sleep and the first thing she felt around you in the morning. He was warm everytime he was near her, he always smelled so manly, so clean and made her feel at home. There was a period of time when their encounters stopped being only sex, it became aftercare that became kissing without lust, it became Taylor falling in love with him.

“Someone is blowing up you phone” she said between kisses “Don’t worry about it” he said kissing attacking her lips, it was a heated moment, but sometimes, there is a feeling in your stomach that doesn’t leave “I-I think we should stop” she said stepping away from the kiss “Are you okay?” he asked “Yeah, I just” she stuttered “I’m not in the mood” she said looking at him, he leaned back and stood up, “We can watch a movie” she said looking up at him, “No, it’s fine I have to be up early tomorrow for practice anyway” Her throat closed.

What? Since he cares so much about waking up early for practice, he has gone to practice after a rough night. She saw him leaving your dorm that night, she didn’t hear from him in the next hours, she went to bed and chose to shut your thoughts.

robin burrow:

It was so good seeing you doll. I’m leaving until Monday, I would love to treat you to brunch tomorrow. What do you say?

taylor:

hi robin!! i would love to, i was planning on going to the mall, if you want to we could go together too 🙂

And so she went, over brunch they only talked about the brunette , how she was doing and how was life back home, she missed her mom, Robin became kind of a second mom once her kid and Taylor started hanging out. She remembered the first time they met, Joe picked her up from a friends reunion and brought her home to make pumpkin pie, he had been waiting for that the whole week.She was the sweetest person ever, after going to Joe’s games the two became closer, she never had a daughter, she always said Taylor was the closest to knowing how being a girl mom would’ve been.

“Your hair got so long since the last time i saw you” Robin said looking at her, she loved spending just the two of them, there was a certain connection she could only have with her, they have known each other for a while now, 4 years sound so little but actually it felt like a lifetime together.

“Let’s take a picture to send to your mom” Robin said after about 4 hours of shopping, she took the picture, hugged her goodbye and parted ways. After driving to her dorm building, she took a shower, it was almost 4 and as much as she loved shopping with Robin, she was hard to keep up with.

Robin Burrow tagged you in a post.

Robin Burrow: Got to hang out with my daughter today! Always a fun time with this doll.

joe b sent a new message:

How did I not know my mom invited you shopping

Could’ve asked Kat to go with you guys.

The happiness she felt on her stomach dropped after those messages popped on her notification center. Like a punch in the throat.

Taylor: what’s gotten into you? Do you not like me hanging out with your mom?

joe b: All I’m saying you could’ve asked my girlfriend to go too

Girlfriend, like an uppercut that was smashed to her face.

Taylor: not my fault your mom didn’t invite her??

joe b: Whatever just

joe b: She should start hanging out with my mom, and my mom needs to let you go.

Taylor: what does that even mean??

joe b: You do realize we are not boyfriend and girlfriend right?

joe b: Like whatever happened between the both of us ended a long time ago, you don't need to play daughter in law with my mom.

Taylor: You can come pick up your stuff from my dorm, I’ll leave it outside on a box.

joe b: Good.

That night, Taylor couldn’t stop crying, she lost her best friend, and the closest thing shehad to a mother, Robin was the one who helped her choose her prom dress since her own mom was too busy criticizing how her arms looked in that dress. Joe knew that, she called him crying after the heated encounter that had just happened.

A knock on the door woke her up the next day, too lazy to get up and open she figured that if she avoided it it would go away, it did. After a whole week of what it felt, a gut wrenching feeling that would not leave her body.

What changed on Joe to make her feel this way, was she not pretty, was she not smart, was she not what he was looking for? She never told him how she felt, there was never a need for it, everyone around them knew that.

Joe can recall a moment he felt his stomach turned of happiness, it was an off-season sunday, both of them were back in Athens, Joe’s brother hosted a barbecue and Taylor was his unmentioned +1, he picked her up and as much as he tried to hide his excitement he just couldn’t, his sisters in-law always got along with her, or as much as the age gap let them, his nephews were cray for her, and she as crazy for them too, playing tag with them in the backyard while looking as is she was made of angel dust, after staring at her, a familiar voice got him out of that haze.

“You are not fooling anyone son” His father said “Fooling with what?” Joe looked at his dad and chuckled, “You are in love with her” Joe chuckled again “How many beers have you had dad?” His dad looked at him and laughed. Shortly after Joe went inside to change his shirt since the smoke was impregnating his clothes, after changing he stumbled up Taylor. “Hey, I was looking for you” she said “I gotta go but thank you so much for having me” she said half hugging Joe, he was confused “What? You’re leaving so early! We haven’t had dinner yet” “I know and I’m sorry, I promise I will make it up to you” Joe walked to the door to grab his keys, “No worries, I ordered an uber” she said putting her hands on his chest “It’s already here” she said opening the door and closing it so Joe couldn’t walk her to the car. He was confused, but he was also quick, she didn’t get in an Uber, she got into a car and was greeted by a guy he was very aware of, Mathew somehow knew a friend of a friend of a friend from Taylor, they met on a party one night, they were not dating, she thought he was cute but didn’t felt like the one she was looking for.

Joe held onto that memory for the longest time,he didn’t know who the guy in the car was, couldn’t see his face, he felt bad about her leaving him and his family to see some other guy. But he couldn’t complain, he had done that two or three times, maybe more, using football as an excuse to not go with her to the movies or shopping. Mat and Taylor stopped seeing each other afterwards, he was a quarterback for Michingan and was insanely gorgeous, also one of the best in the league, LSU and Michigan played against each other on the season, and that’s when Joe knew who he was, he told some of the defense guys to tackled him harder, later that night, after the win Taylor was wrapped around Joe’s arms, He won both matchups that day.

Tired from her pity party, she decided to go out that night, her girlfriends were more than happy to go and have a nice dinner as long as it meant to dress up cute. They laughed so hard that night and took a bunch of pictures, she posted one to her story and went to bed that night.

barzal97: You are drop dead gorgeous.

barzal97: I’m playing LSU next weekend, wanna come?

And she did, wearing Michigan gear, sitting with Mat’s friends and having a great time. There was no point in going to the game and being on the other side if Joe wasn’t willing to be nice to her, LSU won 21-17 that night. But she was more than happy to see Mat.

After the game, Joe went to see his family and girlfriend, realizing a short brown eyed was missing, “Hey Mom, did Taylor come?” he asked her very quietly “I don't know honey, she didn’t sit with us, maybe she was in the stands” Robin half smiled at Joe, he knew she wasn’t there after all he wouldn’t blame her. Later that night, Joe found out she was sitting on Michigan’s side after a text from one of his friends. He was so mad and so heartbroken at the same time.

joe b: Really? Wearing Barzal’s gear, that’s low even for you.

He regretted sending that text and as much as he tried to deleted it, Taylor already saw it,

taylor: What is your problem dude? You’ve been acting like a dick lately.

taylor: you were the one who told me to stop hanging out with your mom, now that I’ve done that, ur pissed off about it give me a break you big baby.

Stop hanging out with my mom doesn’t equate to wearing someone else’s jersey, Joe thought to himself.

joe b: Tell your little boyfriend that he will always lose you to me, I had you first.

joe b: I’m sorry tay i shouldn’t have said that.

The last message didn’t go through.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #brrbrina #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow blurb #mat barzal #joe burrow angst #nfl

[lovincherries]

yeah i am going to need part 2 of just the tip omg

Just the Tip Pt. 2

summary: part two of my other imagine, Just the Tip, kind of angsty but not really. reader comes off obnoxiously pure, i know. BUT it’s to go along with the innocent theme

A/N: omg you read my mind!!! I still haven’t edited the first one lmao, so there are still grammatical errors; however, someone has to write Elvis smut. I’m not gonna lie, I have no plan, I just make stuff up as I go along. NOT PROOF READ! Sorry I just wanted to make sure I got it out today.

Warnings: maybe dubious consent? kinky, dirty, nasty, freaky, all the good stuff! breeding kink

Part Three

It had been days since you had last seen Elvis, since he took your innocence. You would be lying if you said your heart didn’t hurt a little at the thought. You understood he was working on some songs at the Sun Studio, but you wished you could meet up for even just an hour. You had been walking around with this guilt in your chest, that you had done the worst thing imaginable in the world. He said he would marry you, said he would love you for the rest of his life. Could he though? His career was just beginning and there’s no way a girlfriend could be good for it, let alone a wife. 

It was 12 am and you were wide awake with your thoughts in your room, you missed Elvis dearly. There was a faint knocking sound coming from your window that distracted you, you looked over and of course it was him. Although you were happy to see him, you were angry too. He didn’t even call you, didn’t even ask you how you were the next day. Nonetheless, you let him in your room. That was something you would always do, let Elvis in no matter what.

“Hey baby, I missed you more than anything in this world,” he said, reaching in to grab your hips and kiss you on the cheek. “I love this little night dress number you’ve got on, can make a man go week in the knees.” He smirked, that god damn smirk, you just looked away in disbelief. 

“What’s the matter baby? How are you feeling?” He cupped your cheeks in his hands, engulfing your face. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you thought of how you’ve been feeling.

“I can’t believe you, now you ask? I was in pain the next day and there was no one there for me,” you managed to choke out, your voice cracked but you were not going to cry.

“I’m so sorry darling, I know I messed up. I should’ve called, should’ve been there for you. I’ve been working so hard so I can put a ring on the pretty little finger,” he said, pulling you into a hug. You felt guilty now, he had been working so hard for you. He promised he would marry you after taking the one thing that society deemed you valuable for, your virginity.

“Really?” you asked, looking at him through your eyelashes. 

“Yes, I wanna give you my last name. Y/N Presley has a pretty nice ring to it, don’t you think?” He asked, looking down at you. You nodded your head in agreeance.

You sat with him and talked for an hour listening all about his songs, letting him lay his head in your lap. He was letting his hand get dangerously close to your private parts again, a part of you longed for him to touch you there but the other part of you knew it was bad news.

You moved his hand away from you, letting the moral part of you win.

“C’mon darling, it ain’t nothing we haven’t done before. It felt real good for you the first time, right?” He asked, but it came out as more of a statement. 

“But, Elvis, you know I wanted to save myself for our wedding night. Plus, if we do it again, I could get pregnant,” you countered. He had convinced you that since you never had sex before that night, you couldn’t get pregnant. Your parents had guarded you from everything, you knew bits and pieces but all your information came from him. And you trusted everything he had to say fully. He lied straight through his teeth; he didn’t want you to worry with the very real possibility. 

“We have to practice to get good, I want our wedding night to be perfect. Don’t you?” He rhetorically asked, he knew it would only take a little convincing. Deep down you wanted it just as much as he did. “Plus, I won’t finish in you. I promise.” Another lie, he just couldn’t help himself. You looked down at his pants and you could see his penis rising. You now knew what that meant, he wanted you. It felt good for him to want you like that.

His hand was under your dress now, his fingers playing with the hem of your underwear as he talked. As he convinced you.

“Okay, but we can’t wake up my parents,” you demanded this. If they walked in on you and Elvis, you would never be allowed to see him again and you would probably be sent to live with your aunt who never got married.

“They won’t hear a thing,” he smirked again, you knew that look on his face. It was always trouble. He kissed you, grabbing the back of your neck and bringing you in. It was a slow and passionate kiss, so very different from the other night. You don’t know what came over you, but you moved so you were sitting on top of him. Your most sensitive part placed on his. He deepened the kiss now, his hands finding their way to your hips. He used them to guide you, to grind on to him. You let out a moan, you could feel him through his pants. Your shear underwear had no real coverage, he just kept bumping your clit.

His hands now moved to grab your butt, gripping it harshly as you now mimicked the movements. “So perfect, Y/N. Never in my life,” he said as he flipped you over, so he was now on top of you. It felt all too familiar like this.

He hovered over you as he began to lift your night dress up over your head, you weren’t wearing a bra, so your nipples were hard as they felt the cold air. The bruises he left on your breasts were still there from last time, marking you as his. 

“When we’re married, you won’t wear clothes around the house. Want to see you like this all day, every day,” he whispered as he was kissing down your neck. He pinched your nipple in his hand and it caused you to squirm. You felt bold now, and you began unbuttoning his shirt with shaky hands. Despite last time, you were unfamiliar with everything like this. You knew it felt good, but you knew it was so, so wrong. His tan skin was smooth to the touch, just seeing him like this was so erotic. His dark hair fallen over his face, his lips swollen from kissing you.

He began to kiss down your body till he was face to face with your prívate parts, something to obscene. You didnt know what he was going to do next, but you knew no matter what he did it would feel good.

He slowly took your underwear off, and his face lit up like he was looking at gold. “Such a pretty pussy baby, can’t believe you kept it from me for so long,” he mumbled as he got closer and closer. You gasped once his lips reached your clit sucking on, lightly tugging at it with his teeth.

“T-that’s a bad word,” you managed to moan, it was the nastiest word out there and he said it. He just smiled and continued on, but he brought his finger to your entrance. It was still slightly sore from last time, it was such a big stretch in such a tiny hole. He began to slowly push one finger in, pumping it in and out slowly. Making sure you were accustomed, that you could fit him this time too. You were more tense this time, you knew what he was going to do.

He pulled away from you clit, “so tight baby, holding onto my finger for dear life,” he joked. Joking did not seem appropriate to you in a time like this, it wasn’t funny.

“O-oh my god, Elvis,” you moaned as he continued pumping his finger into you, faster and faster. He began to play with your clit as well. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this feeling, the pleasure, or the feeling of being invaded. You began to buck your hips as he continued to press harder into your clit. If you could open your eyes, you know what you would see, a smug look on his face. And then, all of the sudden he stopped.

The sudden absence of his finger cause you to open your eyes, you were slightly agitated if you were being completely honest. He was off the bed now, and he began to unbutton and unzip his pants, god in that moment you felt just completely in awe of him. That smug look he has on his face, how he looked so hot with no shirt on, and just how dominating he looked. He was unbelievably attractive.

He was completely nude now and you were able to really look at his penis. Only one word came to your mind, beautiful. You had no clue what anyone else’s looked like, but surely it would never compare to his. It was unbelievably, intimidatingly big. You hadn’t had time to worry the last time you and him did the do, but now you do.

He began to slowly crawl on the bed, kissing up your body as he did. Peppering you with his love. Once he reached your ear, he whispered, “jus’ aching for ya.”

He had no idea how you were aching for him, you had never thought you would feel this way for anyone, ever. How could you resist him though?

You watched as he guided his shaft between your folds, letting his tip meet your entrance. Your breathing picked up, nervousness arising.

He began to kiss you as he entered, both of you releasing a gasp from the feeling. He had only put just the tip in, giving you a moment to adjust before continuing.

“It was like you were made for me,” he moaned in your ear as he pushed in more, it was still stinging as he continued. Your walls were engulfing him.

He soon bottomed out, staying in the position for what feel like hours but it was just mere minutes. It was a sting, but nothing compared to the last time.

“Elvis,” you whispered.

“Hmm,” he replied, eyes closed tight in concentration. He was trying not to move, “tightest pussy I’ve ever had. never in my life, feels so good,” he rambled.

“Start moving,” you interrupted, bucking your hips trying to push him to start moving.

He did, slowly he pulled out so he was just barely in you, and then he thrusted back in, hard. You gasped as his tip hit your cervix, it was a crazy, full feeling.

He reached down between the two of you and continued to play with your swollen, sensitive clit. The feeling combined caused you to see stars, it was overwhelming and powerful. It was so overwhelming you didnt even hear what he was saying, “gonna be my wife and have all my babies, want you to be full of me. Let all those other boys know youre taken,” he murmured mindlessly, drunk off of you.

He kept thrusting harder and faster, continued to play with your clit just the same. “Talk to me baby, how you feeling?” He cockily asked, he knew how you felt. Your head thrown back in pleasure, you truly couldn’t talk. Thank god your bed wasn’t loud or else you would be screwed.

“I-i,” was all you could manage, you wanted to tell him this was even better than last time but you couldn’t.

“Tell me or I’ll stop,” he thrusted harder, played with your clit more if it was even possible.

“A-amazing,” you breathed out, you were stuttering and barely managed to form a sentence. He just kept going, and going. You began to squeeze him with your walls, milking him, tempting him. This threw him off his high horse.

“G-god,” he moaned as you continued to squeeze the life out of him. You both looked down to see how you were connected, how easily he slid in and out of you, how it looked like you were made for him.

A ball was forming in your stomach, just like last time. This was a feeling you wish you could experience all the time, how you lived without it before you didn’t know.

“Gonna fill you up, try my best to make you a mama. You’d be such a good one, tend to my babies,” he whispered in your ear. You were too into your own pleasure to even begin to acknowledged what you were saying. You felt him quickening his pace, you were on the verge of spilling over.

He started thrusting harder too, hitting you at just the right spot. He began moaning in your ear, you knew he had to be close. You forgot about your parents, your parents be damned. This felt too good to stop.

“Bout to bust,” he grunted. Sweat was dripping off of him onto you. You pulled his face to kiss you down to you, both of you moaning as it continued. It was dirty, raw, and messy. Everything you came to love about Elvis, he was the polar opposite of you.

“I-I’m, bout to finish,” you managed to moan as he kissed down your neck. Sucking at your skin, lapping at it.

Then it hit you, a raw, pleasurable feeling. It was like you were seeing stars, totally, blissfully unaware of anything. You were just moaning uncontrollably. You were so into your own pleasure you didn’t even notice Elvis had finished as well, didn’t even notice the warmth overflowing. He had promised not to, so why would you think otherwise?

He collapsed on top of you, head laying against your breast. You didn’t even think about him finishing, the thought never crossed your mind. He stayed inside of you, making sure nothing escaped.

You played with his hair as he slept, you knew you couldn’t stay like this. Your parents were bound to come in your room in the morning, and if they found Elvis in here, it would be the end of you and him.

You could no longer keep your eyes open either, blissfully unaware of what the love your life did. Now you were bound to him, nothing could come between you. Not your daddy, not your momma, and certainly not your morals. Your ring laid in his pocket, which is what he came over to give you; however, he got a little distracted.

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@kittenlittle24

#austin butler elvis #elvis presley #elvis 2022 #Elvis smut #Austin butler smut #Austin butler #Austin butler imagine #smut #dubious #hottt #hot #sexy #steamy #Elvis Presley smut #Elvis imagine #Elvis Presley imagine #elvis movie

[bordysbae]

Bordy comforting you when you feel like nobody understand you and u just really feel sad because of your friends and social anxiety and need comfort. 🤍🤍

Sorry lmao, this how i feel AHAHHAAH

“the bar”

thomas bordeleau x reader

word count: 0.8k

mon chérie - my dear

also! if ANY of you ever need someone to talk to about anything i promise i don’t bite! i also struggle with bad social anxiety so i know exactly how you feel, and i’d be more than happy to talk with any of you guys! don’t be afraid to message me if you feel like you need a friend to talk to <3

if this isn’t what you wanted just lmk!

your friends had invited you earlier in the week to go out to the local bar everyone goes to on friday nights. as much as you hated bars and parties, you felt pressured into going so you said yes. as you’re standing quietly behind your friends as they order their drinks, it suddenly becomes your turn to order. “y/n, what do you want?” your roommate smiles at you. your heart begins to race, you hated ordering for yourself. “i uh, i-i’ll get whatever you got i guess” you shrug. she nods and turns around to order you a drink, which you have no idea what it even was.

as time passes slowly and your friends become more intoxicated, they slowly slip away from you into the crowd leaving you standing in a corner alone, still sipping on the drink you ordered at least an hour ago. your mind feels like it’s running at a million miles per hour, so you walk through the crowded room and head for the bathroom. as you walk farther away from the music the less loud it sounds, until you lock yourself in the one stall bathroom, causing the music to become muffled. you open up your contacts and press the first person you can think of, your boyfriend thomas. “y/n? what’s going on?” he says groggily, causing you glance up at the time in the corner of your screen, seeing it’s already 12:32. “oh no i’m so sorry, did i wake you?” you say as you frantically pace around the small bathroom. “yes but it’s alright, what’s going on mon chérie? i thought you were with your friends” “i am, sort of. they all got drunk and ran off somewhere, and m-my mind is going too fast for me to think straight. i- i think i’m having an anxiety attack” you stutter out to him. you hear the alert in his voice as he says, “let me venmo you for an uber, come back to my place love.” “o-okay. i need to find my friends, i-i’ll call you from the uber” you say, as you hang up the phone to go face your fears of the large group just outside of the bathroom door.

as you exit the bathroom you feel your phone vibrate as thomas sends you money for an uber, and that’s when you see your roommate and 1 of the other people you went out with. “y/n! where were you?” your roommate asks, nearly slurring her words. “i went to the bathroom, i um, i think im gonna head home. i’m having really bad anxiety right now.” “oh, okay? how are you getting home?” “thomas got me an uber” “alright, bye y/n! see you tomorrow, now let’s go dance c’mon!” she says as she grabs the hand of your other drunk friend and they both scurry off into the crowd. you’re kidding. my own roommate can’t even stay with me ‘till the uber comes? you think to yourself. you see that the uber is almost here, so you make your way through the crowd and outside to the cold, late night, michigan air. you get into the uber and call thomas back. you smile softly as his face fills the frame of your phone screen. “you got the uber just fine?” he asks, rubbing his eyes. “yes thank you love.” you smile, acting as if your mind isn’t still running too fast for your liking.

you didn’t even realize how fast your brain was going until suddenly you’re brought back to earth as thomas opens his front door, embracing you in his warmth. “hi mon chérie, come in” he says as he steps aside to let you in. his words cause tears to brim at your eyes, which you try not to let fall. you haven’t felt this overwhelmed in a very long time, so this is a lot for you.

you both walk into his bedroom and he gestures for you to sit on his bed, as he walks over to his closet grabbing you a pair of his sweats and a hoodie. once you slip the clothes on and do your night routine, you crawl into bed next to him as he lifts the covers for you. “cmon lets cuddle” he says softly as you curl up next to him. as he pulls you closer to him, the tears from earlier you thought had disappeared come back, falling down your cheeks. “oh y/n, what’s wrong?” he says, as he gently runs his fingers through your hair as your head rests against his bare chest. “i feel so stupid, i cant even go out on a friday night with my friends without having an anxiety attack. and when i told my friends, th-they just ran off, barely even caring. i just feel so embarrassed” you say, tears staining your cheeks.

thomas lifts you off of his chest gently and sits up, looking down at you. “stop. you are far from stupid, you’re a human. it’s normal to feel anxious at times, and anxiety is not an ‘unnormal’ thing. i love you for who you are and your friends suck if they don’t stick around to care for you. i love you more than words can even describe and i hate seeing you like this” he says, pulling you into a hug. you wrap your arms around his bare back, and he rocks you both side to side slowly. “can we go to sleep, i just want tonight to be over” “of course my love” he says, laying you both down onto his bed softly. you cuddle into his side, his warm skin being all that you feel against you. you gently trace his tattoos until you feel your eyes begin to flutter shut, and you let them. a soft kiss being pressed against your temple is the last thing you feel as you fall into a warm, deep sleep next to the one person who you love most in this world.

#thomas bordeleau #sj sharks #sj barracuda #umich wolverines #umich hockey #umich boys #thomas bordeleau imagine #i made this in class LOL #ok bye

[wastemanjohn]

You KNEW my prompt was gonna include pregnancy lmao but I’m gonna say samdean accidental pregnancy — your choice if Dean or Deanna, your choice which season but I wanna see Dean(na) confessing to Sam that s/he’s knocked up!

here you go mate <3 (sorry for sneaking my deanna and david bowie headcanon in here but i had reason to believe you wouldn't mind xD - and exploring this pushed me nicely out of my comfort zone so thank you for the prompt!)

The skies over the salvage yard are pink with shepherd's delight clouds.  The evening breeze has a little bite, and the air smells like rotting oil and dead leaves. The latter scent is one Sam associates with shoplifting school supplies, with the good coffee shops opening up on campus again. It's an awkward nostalgia, but it comes to him anyway as he buttons up his shirt for warmth and makes a start on staking out the boulevard of broken cars, armed with two bottles of El Sol and a mental note of all the phrases he's learned not to say. Deanna's gotta be out here somewhere.

The thing is, Sam thinks as he passes the nearly restored Impala, it had seemed like his sister was doing a little better. She's still sharp tongued and irritable, but she's not been spending 12 hours a day doing god knows what under that hood. She's been hanging out with Sam and Bobby more in the evenings, not really saying much, but sometimes she smiles with her whole face at something someone says, and Sam's always a little surprised at the force of his relief. She's even been talking a bit about getting out on the road again, even if she never directly mentions Dad; but Sam's caught her quietly leafing through his journal now and then lately. Not that he's said anything about it, because that's just asking for trouble; and anyway, regardless of any improvement, Sam still has no idea what's going on in Deanna's head, really. She feels very far away.

She went out this afternoon. For hours. Didn't say where she was going; but it's got to be the first time she's left Bobby's place in weeks. She left her phone behind on the nightstand, in this way that Sam couldn't help but suspect was intentional, because there had to be something about that; had to be something in the way Deanna caught Sam's eye through the window as she was coming back, coming all slow down the path with Dad's jacket over her shoulders and this tight expression on her face. Something in the way Deanna had sharply changed direction at the sight of him, veering off until she faded into the salvage yard and Sam couldn't see her anymore. And it's not that Sam meant to be hovering near the front of the house at the exact moment of her return like a worried parent, but shit happens.

Let her be, son, Bobby had said, without looking up from his scotch and that leatherbound demonology book he'd been annotating all day. Harder you push, the more she's gonna clam up.

It bothers Sam when Bobby talks like that, like he knows Deanna better than Sam does or something. As for letting her be - well, if Bobby knows Sam at all, he's got a strange way of showing it.

As Sam goes deeper into the yard, he can hear music. Tinny, faint; but Sam recognizes David Bowie. He spent enough time being subjected to every single tape the guy ever made, even the really out there ones, over and over again as a kid to know that voice anywhere. That had been one of Deanna's more intense phases. Sam thinks she finds him comforting now, maybe; familiar, well worn, like an old blanket. She'd deny that, of course, the way she always denies shit that she thinks sounds girly, or maybe just vulnerable - but it hadn't been lost on Sam over the past year, how Deanna would play those tapes during nearly every overnight drive they took. Her hands always a little too tight on the steering wheel, Dad's unknown whereabouts breathing down the backs of their neck like a spirit.

Sam follows that bustling piano, ch-ch-changes, until he finds his sister. She's sitting on the floor, leaning against the dented door of an eighties truck with a mangled hood. The windows are down. The music is coming from inside.

Dad's jacket is so big over Deanna's shoulders. It practically drowns her, looks kind of ridiculous, if Sam were to be mean about it; still smells like Dad's cigarettes. Deanna doesn't look up, when Sam approaches, but she doesn't hide her face or snipe at him to fuck off either. Which means this is already going well.

"Hey." Sam says it cautiously. "What are you doing out here?" 

Her eyes roll up at him. "Making bacon and eggs, jackass. What's it look like I'm doing?"

Sam doesn't know, actually. Still, he takes the sarcasm on the chin. He holds one of the beer bottles out to Deanna; she glances at it, then shakes her head.

It surprises Sam, but he doesn't push. "You look like crap," he offers.

Deanna snorts. "Well. Don't you know how to make a girl feel special."

There's no bite in it. That tells Sam they're okay. She does, though; look like crap, that is. Tired; washed out. She's been sleeping in the day a lot. Bobby says it's the grief, that she needs it. Sam could believe that. He wonders, though, if Bobby's heard Deanna throwing up in the night lately. Not just one of her tactical upchucks to stave off a hangover, because she's not been drinking all that much lately; but these real hacking puke sessions that jolt Sam out of sleep in the early hours of the morning. She never comes back to her bed afterwards. And Sam has his suspicions about that too, like with the left behind phone; it's Deanna's way of not giving him a chance to pry. She knows how thin the wall between the bathroom and the spare bedroom is.

"Can I sit?" Sam asks.

Deanna shrugs. It's as good as permission.

Sam lowers himself down beside her, gets comfy on the rough gravel. He puts down the beers; doesn't feel much like drinking by himself.

They sit in silence for a while. Puts Sam on edge; but it's hard to know what to say to Deanna most of the time these days, which isn't a position he's ever been in before. Then again, they've never been in the position of losing their father before, so there's that. It still doesn't feel real. It probably never will.

"Keys were still in the ignition," Deanna says, nodding up towards the truck. "Tapedeck works. Engine's salvageable. Bobby's way too quick to junk these babies. Upsets me."

Sam smiles. "Dare you to say that to his face."

"Hey, maybe I will. If he gave me half a day with this death trap I'd get her purring again. Turn her into a whole new woman."

She folds her arms, tilts her head back against that dented door. Her eyes are kinda pink and bleary.

"You should see the tapes in the glove compartment," she adds. "'S a fucking goldmine.

"Is this Hunky Dory?" Sam asks.

Deanna raises an eyebrow. "Wow. And there I was thinking you weren't paying attention all this time."

"You didn't exactly give me a choice. You only played this album every day for like ten years."

Deanna grins. "I'm proud of you, Sammy. I knew you'd learn to love it eventually."

"Love is a strong word," Sam replies.

Deanna snorts again. Something like affection passes over her face. Sam hasn't seen that in a while.

"I lost this album years ago," Deanna says. "Think it ended up with Dad, maybe. You know how our stuff used to always get mixed up." 

Sam's a little stunned. And maybe it shows, because Deanna narrows her eyes at him. "What?"

"Nothing." He swallows - "Just that you, uh, mentioned Dad."

"Yeah. So?"

It's quick, defensive enough for Sam to know to shut up. He's getting good at that kind of thing. 

Deanna's scowl fades; she grins, lightly punches his thigh. "You creep. Quit staring at me."

Sam didn't realize he was. But if they were a different kind of people, maybe Sam would tell Deanna how pretty she looks under the dying sunlight, under those pink, glowy clouds; but he wouldn't really know how to put something like that, and Deanna would never let him live it down if he said it aloud anyway. So he keeps it to himself. Instead, he watches Deanna pull at a spooling thread from her shirt sleeve peeking out from beneath Dad's jacket.

"You know," Deanna says, "being out here always reminds me of us being kids. Bobby letting us play in the yard until the sun went down. Bringing us lemonade. Do you remember?"

Sam smiles. "Yeah, Dee. Of course I remember."

Deanna carries on like she wasn't expecting an actual response. "We'd never had homemade lemonade. Remember how I used to try to make it for you when we got back on the road? Mine always kinda sucked, though."

Sam feels a little on edge, hyper aware of everything his body is doing, like he's trying not to spook a wild gazelle. This is the most Deanna has spoken in weeks. "You tried," he offers, because she did, Deanna always tried so hard with stuff like that. He hasn't thought about Deanna's crappy lemonade in years. With Bowie warbling about life on mars on the stereo, and the memory of Deanna's sticky too-bitter attempt alive on his tongue, it feels like it's 1992 again.

Deanna keeps pulling at that thread. "You know, back when I used to watch you - I was, I dunno, maybe ten or eleven. And you were so - you were so damn innocent, you know? Just really cute, I guess."

"Cute?" Sam echoes.

"Yeah." There's this tight, half-smile on her mouth that Sam can't quite read. "You were so curious about shit all the time. Always wanting me to tell you stories. Always getting yourself scraped and bruised because you couldn't stop fucking climbing stuff." 

Sam isn't sure what to say. There's something about remembering himself as a child that makes him uncomfortable. Maybe it's the idea of being so small and so helpless; or maybe it's the memory of that hard-to-place unease that lived inside of him like blood from the moment he was fully sentient, that gut-deep sense that something about his life - his family, his barely present Daddy - just wasn't right.

"You were a pain in the ass," Deanna continues, with this fond chuckle. "Asking me questions all the time. Wanting to know how every little thing in the world worked. If I didn't know the answers, I'd just make 'em up. You believed everything I said." She clicks her tongue. "Man, do I miss that."

Why are we talking about this? Sam nearly asks. But that runs the risk that Deanna will snap shut like an oyster, and Sam will never get the answer at all. So he keeps his mouth closed. He lets Deanna carry on.

"Sammy, I used to -" She trails off, looking weirdly sheepish. "This is so so fucking weird, but like - when I was watching you, I used to wish you were actually my kid. And you - you kinda were, you know? Felt like you were mine... mine just as much as you were Dad's."

Dad, again. Sounds so unfamiliar in Deanna's voice now that it takes Sam a moment to process the revelation that came before it. "You did? Seriously?" is all he manages.

"Yeah." She's looking at her lap. Still that tight half-smile. "Seriously."

And Sam struggles to know what to do with that, what it means. Because it's hard, lately, for Sam to be angry with his father about much; makes him feel almost empty, actually, after a lifetime of nursing this near-addictive resentment over things he never fully understood. And of those things, Deanna - getting her stuff mixed up with Dad's, being so intertwined with him, resembling her martyred mother so much Dad could never stop commenting on it - Deanna seeing Sam as her own, apparently - well, he doesn't know. Sometimes Deanna just says shit. He probably isn't meant to read into it.

And besides, Sam doesn't know anything for sure. Always felt like he never really wanted to. And as he's already made his choice to love his father, he needs to keep it that way.

Deanna shuts her eyes, then. They're puffy under her lashlines, kissed with gray. "I mean," she says, "Don't get me wrong. You annoyed the crap outta me sometimes." She shrugs, hard, like a defence to an attack Sam hasn't made. "I - I do know that, Sammy. I know there was times I coulda been nicer to you." She looks a little pained.

"We were just kids Dee," Sam offers. "Not like either of us were exactly saints." 

"I keep remembering," Deanna continues, in that way, like Sam hadn't spoken again, "There was this time Dad kind of - got caught up in something. Still don't know what. But he wasn't home when he said he'd be. We were running out of everything. Food, money. No one was answering the phone. And you - you were driving me insane, Sammy."

Deanna says the last part a little too quietly; her head bows, hair covering her face. And Sam thinks he knows where this is going. He's getting a little uneasy.

"You just - you kept on and on with your damn questions. 'Where's Dad? What does he do while he's away? When's he coming back?' Then you - you asked about Mom."

"Deanna-"

She shakes her head, cutting him off. Something bitter on her lips, not quite a smile. "Who punches a five year old in the face, Sammy? I can't believe I -"

"You were only nine, Dee." Sam reminds her, when she doesn't finish the sentence. "You didn't know any better."

And it's true; Dad made sure of that, with his shoot first, ask questions later manifesto. But Deanna would never see it that way. She just laughs, colorless, bitter. "Yeah. I did. I shoulda, at least. I just -" She huffs. "Sometimes it feels like I just - I couldn't stop screwing up."

"You were doing it all by yourself." As the words leave his mouth, Sam registers how they sound. Like something you'd say about a single mom, some divorced thirty something with three kids, working two jobs to keep everyone fed and clothed. Not a nine year old.

"I guess -" Deanna sucks in a breath. "I just think about that a lot. That's all."

There's this dread growing inside of Sam as he watches Deanna's mouth twist up; she blinks, angrily. "Are you - crying?"

"Shut up," she mumbles.

She turns her face away a little. Draws her knees up to her chest. And it's strange and unsettling for Sam to see, like a horse walking on its hind legs or something; because Deanna doesn't cry, crying is for girls, and anatomy aside, she doesn't much like being seen as one of those. Even before Dad's pyre she stood, solemn and silent, breathing slow, composed. A hell of a lot more composed than Sam was, anyway.

"What's going on, Dee?"

She shrugs. That's very different to I'm fine.

And if things had been in any way close to normal over the last couple of months, Sam might touch Deanna's hand right about now. Lace their fingers; cup her face. Kiss her, maybe, the way she hasn't let him kiss her in a long time. Not since - well - not since the night they let Dad go. Sam can still remember the heat from the fire on his face, the way Deanna's hair felt grainy with ash; how her lips had tasted earthy and swollen, how she felt so small and fragile in his arms, more than she ever had. Still his big sister. Still the person he wants when he's scared and spiralling and doesn't know what to do but grab onto her, and hold on and on and on.

Deanna sniffs, loudly. "I just - I had so much on my shoulders, you know? Dealin' with you... dealin' with Dad..."

Her voice cracks a little. Sam says, "It was - it was a lot. I know." 

A lot. So much summed up in those two words, but it's not like Sam's had a lot of practise in talking about this.

Deanna laughs down at her folded knees, all thick. "You don't know, Sammy. You don't know at all. And I'm - I'm really glad you don't."

Sam isn't sure what to say to that. Partly because he can't gauge Deanna's tone, and partly because that feels like one of the most honest things Deanna's ever said to him. And now he's really worried.

"I just - I always wished I had another chance, you know? A chance to do over all those screw ups I made."

Tentatively, Sam reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder. It tenses a little beneath his fingers; but she doesn't pull away. That's good.

"I don't know where all this is coming from, Dee," Sam admits.

There's a pause, and Deanna seems to blink for a little too long. "It's - Sammy, I just keep on thinking. Dad's - Dad's gone." 

It's the first time she's actually said it. Sam swallows; throat feels a little thick. "Yeah. I know."

"And I was just getting - you get used to things being one way, you know?" She runs a hand through her hair, shiny with grease like oil slicks. "It's always like that. You start getting used to things, and then - then some other shit happens. And suddenly things are a whole new way. Before you can even fucking -"

"What do you mean?"

"Sammy, I knew something was wrong. I - I think I knew all along. But - today..."

Sam does everything in his power to keep his growing anxiety out of his voice. "Where did you go today, Deanna?" 

Her lips press together. She's still looking at her lap.

That dread expands, curdles, in Sam's gut. "Tell me."

Her hands are shaking against her thighs. "I - I went to the doctor."

That's absolutely the last thing Sam expected. "Since when do you go to the doctor?"

"I kinda had to."

Sam watches the little quiver of her fingers; and with that, he thinks back to the puking, the tiredness, how not right his sister looks. He thinks about Jess, how they were talking about what color to paint the living room 24 hours before she went up in flames on the ceiling. He thinks about Dad calmly sending him off for coffee before he…

Things are one way. Then suddenly they're another. Before you can blink, before you even remember your own name.

"Are you - are you sick?" Sam tries to keep his voice even.

Deanna isn't looking at him. "Kinda."

Sam thinks about Deanna hooked up to wires and machines. The miracle; how miracles don't happen. He's been harboring a little fear that there has to still be something wrong. A lacerated organ. A foreign object. Something they must have missed. But he thought - hoped - it was just that - a fear.

Sam sucks in a breath. "Okay. So - so what..."

Deanna smiles grimly. "Turns out I've got a parasite."

He watches Deanna shift. Her hand move towards one of the pockets of Dad's jacket. She keeps her eyes on her lap as she passes a small slip of paper to Sam. Small, rectangular. He takes it.

It's a moment or so before he realizes what he's seeing. Kind of like a photograph; a fuzzy sepia. Odd shapes that slowly begin to make sense.

"Ten weeks," Deanna says, her voice a little hoarse with disbelief. "I'm - I'm ten fucking weeks pregnant, Sammy."

Sam stares numbly at that ultrasound still. At the shapes, like two beans stacked on top of each other. Faint, fuzzy lines. Tiny arms. Tiny legs. He stares at them until they blur.

Ten weeks. Ten weeks since -

"So it's - " Sam can't finish the sentence.

"Yeah, Sammy. It's yours."

Her voice sounds very far away. And Sam can smell ash and fumes, traces of hospital grade body wash on Deanna's skin, skin that was bruised all over from cannulae and wires; and Sam couldn't catch his breath because Dad was gone, the last of him was just yards away on that burnt out pyre, gone; and Deanna's hands were on his face, tangled up in his hair, forehead pressed against his, and she was straddling his lap in the Impala's backseat, her eyes shut, muttering ssh, ssh over and over, maybe to Sam, or maybe to herself, but she kept saying it, even through the long kisses she kept pressing to his mouth; and Sam remembers he could barely see, he felt like he was choking on that ashy air, but he had Deanna, and he needed Deanna, he'd never needed her so much in his entire life. And Deanna understood, the way she's always understood things like that; and Deanna had kept on with her kissing and ssh-ing as she moved on top of him, fast, desperate, and Sam had clung onto her waist and met each roll of her hips, fast, anguished, because he couldn't get close enough, deep enough; and Deanna had been making these pitchy, breathless sounds like she was in pain, but she didn't stop Sam, and the whole time her eyes were wide and fixed on his face; and Sam remembers tangling her hair around his fingers like rope, he remembers arching up against her as he came, his body going through the motions, his senses numb to it. That numbness hasn't really left him since.

"Sammy, say something."

Deanna's voice, strained, cuts through the memory. Hauls Sam back to the present; Bowie, rotten oil, dead leaves. That autumnal breeze. His sister's face, tight and worried. Sam recognizes that pallor a little more now: shock.

It's passing through Sam as well. Of all the things he expected - this was nowhere on the list. Nowhere close.

"Alright," he manages eventually. Amazed at how calm he sounds. "What do you wanna do?" Because that's the thing to ask, right?

Deanna's lips twist again. "I mean - like, right away, I thought about just - you know - going off and taking care of it. Not even telling you. Just - "

"You wouldn't have told me?"

"I said I thought about it, Sam." She clicks her tongue; another rough wipe of her eyes. "I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

Sam keeps staring. Staring, at that image. That tiny, tiny baby. 

"Is that what you want?" he manages, eventually. Hoarse as Deanna. "To - take care of it?"

Deanna's pause seems to roll around the length of the yard. Then, her eyes stray to her lap again. "You know, Dad used to lecture me about this shit. Made it very clear how disappointed he'd be if I ever accidentally got myself knocked up."

Sam says, "Really?"

"Yeah. All the time." There's something acidic in Deanna's voice. "And you know why he harped on about it so much?"

"Why?"

"Because he said it wouldn't be fair to bring a kid into all this. Into the life." Deanna laughs, this flat, one-note thing. Something sharp flashes through her eyes; something gone too quick for Sam to fully identify. "Can you believe he said that to me? After everything he..."

She stops. And Sam watches Deanna's face reset, as if she hadn't expressed something like anger towards Dad for the first time ever. Something like what Sam has been saying, feeling, thinking, ever since he was old enough to understand. Everything Deanna always denied.

"It wouldn't have to be the same." It comes out of Sam's mouth before he can catch up with it. "You know. The same as we had it."

Deanna keeps on looking at her lap.

"You -" Sam takes a breath. "You know that, right?"

Deanna sighs. More like the breath whipping out of her body. "I'm not gonna stop looking for the demon, Sammy."

She says it like she expected Sam to insist on it. He clarifies: "I'm not saying we do. I'm saying we make it work."

He has no idea how. No fucking idea. His brain hasn't quite absorbed what's in front of him yet, the news undigested; but he's certain, somehow, of that.

Deanna gives that odd laugh again. Sam isn't sure what it means, this time. "It's also..." She picks at that thread on her shirt again. "I mean, the doctor said it looked healthy. But what if it comes out and it's like, a cyclops or something?"

"Why would it be -"

Deanna's shoulders rise. "You've seen Deliverance, right?"

Oh.

Sam swallows. His eyes stray back to the picture. Not that he can see much; not that there's much to see. But there's enough there for Sam to think it looks absolutely perfect.

"There are risks," is all he can think to say. "But it's - you know. It's not completely inevitable."

Deanna narrows her eyes. "You've already looked this stuff up, haven't you?"

She says it in this accusatory way. Sam runs his thumb delicately across the grainy image. "There was always a chance this could happen, Dee."

Always a chance. They've never done much to mitigate it, really. There's not enough space in Sam's brain right now, to wonder why that is.

Deanna skips over it too. Runs a hand through that greasy hair. Her lips twist.

"I just think," she says, after a while, "even if it comes out with three heads, playing a fucking banjo... would I care? You know?"

She's still not quite meeting Sam's eyes. Sam prompts, "Would you?"

"I mean. It's not like it'd be the only freak in this family, right?" A smile spreads across her mouth. "Sammy, you know I wouldn't care. I'd -I'd love it no matter what."

"Me too." It comes out thick; Sam's never been more sure of anything in his life.

He hands Deanna back the picture; takes her hand, deceptively delicate and cold in his, as he watches her eyes fog up with tears again. She doesn't hide this time; leans in to press her forehead against Sam's, just like that night ten weeks ago, just like they've come full circle. And fuck, it feels like forever since Sam's been touched like this, touched by anyone; he's just wondering if leaning in for a kiss would be pushing it, when he feels Deanna's plump, dried out lips brushing his. They feel a little sticky, and there's this malodor to her breath, but Sam barely registers it. It's like coming home.

I missed you, he doesn't say; can't, when Deanna's mouth would smother it anyway. When Deanna would only screw her face up and call him a big girl, and he'd rattle with guilt about feeling a little humiliated by that, but he'd feel it anyway.

Deanna pulls away first. She's a little flushed, and Sam can faintly see the capillaries in her face, like pink lines on a map under her skin; she squeezes his hand, laces their fingers. Moves them together until Sam's palm is flat against her stomach, the warmth of her body underneath that worn flannel.

"I keep thinking I can feel it," she whispers. "Now I know it's there."

Sam watches their interlaced hands dumbly. Overwhelmed. He can too.

"I kinda hope it's a girl." Deanna's voice has that hoarse quality again. "So I can - so she can have a Mom. So she can have what I didn't have."

She says it at the exact moment Sam finds himself hoping it's a boy. His reasons are similar. But for someone who doesn't like to talk, Deanna's always been way better at articulating stuff like that.

"You'll be a great Mom, Dee," he says, firmly. You were to me.

"Alright. You don't need to kiss my ass." Deanna ruffles his hair, like she did when she kissed him goodnight as a kid.

It takes Sam a moment to find his voice again. "I mean it, Dee. We'll make it work." He says it with this conviction that rises up from somewhere deep. "And I'm gonna be here for you, alright? Every step of the way."

Deanna groans. "Jesus Christ. I knew you'd be like this."

But she's smiling. And Sam allows himself to as well.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

“You know Dad would kill us, right? But man, do I wish he was here right now.”

She says it with a laugh in her voice, her face all twisted up; and Sam can't help but remember how he and Jess had talked about kids, vaguely, sometimes, kind of like a concept, a distant dream. How Sam had thought to himself about Dad a lot then, too, the way he never really stopped thinking about Dad and Deanna. He remembers wondering to himself whether Dad would be proud. Whether he'd even want a grandkid; if he'd want to know at all. Back then, Sam genuinely toyed with the idea that Dad wouldn't even care. Never come back, Sam.

It's not the same, now. Holy fuck, this is not the same, and it can probably only be a good thing that Dad's not here to know about this; so Sam pushes away the thought. He puts his arms around Deanna's waist and pulls her as close as he dares.

"It'll be okay," he says again, because he can't think of anything else. Because it has to be.

Deanna's looking at him kinda intently. "Sam, do you think this is Dad's way of like - you know - coming back?"

"Uh - what?"

Deanna shrugs. "Dunno. Just - hormones talking, I guess." She squeezes Sam's hand against her stomach. "Forget I said anything."

Sam's not sure he can. They don't say anything after that.

#asks #prompts #samdeanna #johndeanna if u squint #my writing #yes I know I literally always play in this part of the Canon sandbox #but whatever i invite you to sue me #cw discussions of abortion #cw childhood trauma #cw intergenerational trauma #cw incest #this came out very soft by my standards lol #well apart from all the incest and trauma #it's so heavy on the incest lol

[yourlocalghoulette]

Hearts and Ribbons Part One

Main Masterlist|Series Masterlist

Warnings: Eventual smut so MDNI, Relationship building, Joel being a flirt, mentions of abuse, swearing, brief horny thoughts, lmk if I forgot anything:)

A/N: here’s the first part for yall! This is literally the first long fic I’ve ever written so it’s kinda scaring me to share it to yall🥲 pleaseee send me any tips or helpful critizism!! Also, I’m going to focus more on the actual relationship of Joel x reader more than the actual getting to the relationship lmao, so this is gonna move pretty fast. Hope you enjoy!

W/C: 3.3k

"Dad, did you know that ballerinas can go through up to three pairs of pointe shoes a week?"

Sarah excitedly reads facts from a book that she borrowed from the library about ballet to Joel, who just picked her up from school. Joel hangs his arm out of the window, the cool breeze flowing into the car relieving against the hot Texas air.

"That so?" He hums, turning on the radio. Long, Long Time by Linda Ronstadt crackles through his old truck radio. "Sounds expensive." Sarah giggles infectiously, turning the pages of the book. "Ooh, listen to this, Dad," she exclaims, leaning back in her seat and resting her feet on the front passenger seat. "Apparently women weren't allowed to dance ballet until 1681! That's crazy." "Feet off the seat," Joel scolds gently. "Wow. That is crazy. Wonder why they didn't let 'em." Sarah rolls her eyes jokingly and removes her feet from the seat in front of her. "Dad...would I be able to take dance lessons?" She asks carefully, a small smirk growing on her face. "Damn ballet movies," he mutters under his breath. "Well....I'd have to probably work some extra shifts, but..." Joel hesitates. Anything to make his baby girl happy, right?

That's how Joel found himself perched on his office chair in front of his computer, scrolling through various dance studios. Being in the busy place of Austin Texas, he wasn't surprised that there were a lot of dance studios around him. He finally found a ballet studio that looked welcoming, immediately letting out a sigh of relief as he tapped the link. The home page of the website catches his eye, with phrases like 'We welcome all levels and ages of dancers" and "Friendly family atmosphere" snagging his interest. He takes out his phone, dialing the number from the website.

You're just finishing your choreography for the intermediates, a lyrical dance to the song 'Fear of Water' by Noah Kahan. Your Apple watch buzzes against your wrist as you solidly land a double pirouette, notifying you that a call is coming in. You quickly grab your phone, clicking the green 'Accept' button.

"Hearts and Ribbons Dance Studio, how can I help you?" You say sweetly into the phone, slightly out of breath from dancing. "Uh..Hi? I wanted to enroll my daughter in a ballet class," the voice says from the other end. You immediately know this man is hot just from hearing his voice. It's deep and slightly gravelly, his Texan accent apparent through the phone. You, however, have just moved to Texas a year ago, so you didn't quite have an accent yet.

"Totally! How old is she and what's her dancing level?" You inquire, nestling your phone in between your cheek and shoulder you can pull out your notebook and pen.

Joel loves how sweet and kind your voice sounds, and he knows he's definitely going to have Sarah go to this studio. Because he thinks it's a good fit, no other reason of course. "She's twelve years old, and she ain't never touched a dance floor in her life," he responds, kicking back easily in his chair. "I hope that's alright?" "That's totally fine. I believe no one is ever too old to start dancing," you say into the phone, and Joel can tell how passionate you are about your work. "OK, so I actually have a class open every Thursday afternoon for beginners, ages 12 through 14. Does that interest you?" You continue, flipping through your calendar. "That sounds perfect, actually," he responds. "Great!" You exclaim into the phone, a little too excited to be able to meet this handsome-sounding man in person. "Oh, before I forget, what is your and your daughter's name?" "I'm Joel, and my daughter's name is Sarah." "Sarah and Joel, huh? Both great names," you say sweetly, taking account of their names in your notebook as you tell him your name. "Uh..thanks, darlin'," he says, wondering why he's so flustered at what is normally a common compliment. "Your name is beautiful too." You feel heat creeping slowly up to your cheeks. "Thanks," you murmur, then quickly gain your composure. “I-I’ll see you guys tomorrow at four, then?” Joel runs his hand through his graying hair. “Sounds great. Can’t wait to meet you.”

You grin widely as you hang up. Staring into the wall-length mirror, you sigh. “What the fuck are you thinking, girl? He has a kid. He’s probably married. You haven’t even met him yet,” you scold yourself.

Tomorrow finally comes, and you are trying to round up the littles class so they can go home. To your surprise, a man and his daughter walk in. You can already tell that it’s Joel and Sarah. Joel’s face definitely lives up to your fantasies, dark chocolatey brown eyes and a patchy beard sprinkled with streaks of gray. He’s tall, and you can tell by the way that his arms are squeezed by the flannel he’s wearing that he is a strong man. The girl, whom you assume is Sarah, is really pretty, with dark, short, tight curly hair. She's wearing a black leotard and pink tights, with a white wrap skirt.

They watch as you struggle with the crazy kindergartners, your face filled with annoyance as a little girl named Ada breaks down into tears. “Hey, baby, it’s alright, don’t cry,” you say softly, and Joel admires how patient you are as you ask her what’s wrong, what happened, blah, blah, blah, the same script you use with every kid.

“Need a hand?” You jump slightly as Joel touches your shoulder lightly, standing right behind you. “I-uh- no, I think I got it, but thanks,” you smile up at him, slightly flustered as Joel nods and withdraws his hand. You finally get the kids with their parents and out the door, letting out a deep sigh before you turn to face Joel and Sarah. “I take it you’re Joel and Sarah?” You shake hands with Joel, savoring his strong grip around your hand. “I appreciate you coming early,” you continue. “It’s so fucking annoying when people come late and I’m not able to show them around.” You immediately cover your mouth with your hand. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I’m still working on this whole ‘professional’ thing.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I have the same problem,” Joel assures you.

You blush, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And you must be Miss Sarah?” You ask, turning to face Sarah with a wide smile. She nods eagerly. “That’s me,” she grins. “I’m so excited to dance.”

“Well, great, we love some enthusiasm here,” you say, flashing a smile at Joel. He immediately feels his face heat up. He can’t deny the fact that you are beautiful, he would even go so far to say you’re stunning. He admires the way that your eyes light up when you talk to Sarah, clearly passionate about your job. “Ok, let’s get in a short tour before the rest of the girls get here,” you glance at your watch. “We got about ten minutes.”

Sarah nods eagerly. “Ok, I’m so excited!” She exclaims again.

You show them around the studio, pointing out the main dance floor (obviously), the barre, the bathrooms….there really isn’t much to a dance studio. “And there ya go!” You grin, glancing at your watch again as some girls start to walk into the studio. “Perfect timing.” Sarah bounces up and down excitedly and runs to the other girls, leaving you alone with Joel.

“Hey, I really appreciate this, darlin',” he says softly, smiling at you. “Y'know, for taking her in a class on such a short notice.” God, his eyes alone could make you melt. You instinctively glance at his left hand. No ring.

“It’s my pleasure,” you smile back at him. “I love making kids happy. It’s my passion.”

Joel nods in understanding. “Me too, in a sense,” he nods towards Sarah. “So, are you new to Austin? I swear I would remember a face that pretty if I ever saw it.” Your cheeks immediately flush bright pink. “Yeah, I just moved here about a year ago from Michigan. Looking for a fresh start, y’know?” You lean against the wall, admiring how easy he is to talk to. He nods. “Why’d you come to Texas?” He asks, hoping he’s not prodding too much. “Well, I partially became here because it’s warm, and my boyfriend lives here. Well, my ex, now.”

His eyes brighten slightly as he hears that you’re single. “Well, welcome to Texas. I guess I’ll see you in an hour?” He reaches out his hand to shake yours. You shake his hand, your fingers lingering together for a second before you pull away. “Yep. I guess I should probably start teaching the class,” you laugh, a sweet sound to Joel’s ears.

As soon as Sarah climbs into Joel’s car after the class is over, giddy and happy from the excitement of her first dance class, she punches Joel jokingly on the shoulder. “So, when are you gonna ask her out?” She smirks. Heat immediately rushes to his cheeks, but he keeps his eyes on the road, hoping Sarah won't see it. “Who? I-uh-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sarah rolls her eyes. “You’re an awful liar, dad. I saw you talking to my dance teacher, all pink and giggly around her.” Joel lets out a defeated sigh. “OK, maybe I think your dance teacher is pretty, but that doesn’t mean anything, okay? Do not tell Uncle Tommy,” he says firmly. Sarah giggles. “I knew it! A few hours later, you're still at the studio, working through a tough turn combo that you came up with. Three a la secondes, three pencil turns, two fouettes, three pirouettes....you're thrown out of your turn when your phone rings, the monotonous tone breaking your concentration. You pick up your phone, eyes widening when you recognize Joel's number. You quickly press accept. "Hey, J- I mean, hello, Hearts and Ribbons dance studio, how can I help you?" You gain your composure quickly, trying to hide that you knew exactly who was calling you. "Hey, sweetheart, this is Joel. The-uh- the new dancer's dad?" You almost laugh at the fact that Joel thought that you would forget him. "I remember you, Joel," you giggle sweetly into the phone. "I'm honored," he responds with mock exaggeration. "Listen, I just wanted to thank you again for today. Sarah is abso-fucking-lutely overjoyed." You laugh. "That's amazing. I'm so glad she's liking it. So I'm guessing she's going to keep taking classes here?" You ask hopefully, secretly crossing your fingers. You'd take any excuse to be with this Joel Miller that you could get. "Oh, absolutely." You can tell Joel hesitates through the phone. "Listen, I-uh-I was just wondering if you'd like to go out for coffee sometime? Just to...you know....talk about Sarah's progress and shit," he mutters nervously into the phone, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes!" You almost yell into the phone, then take a deep breath to contain yourself. "I-I mean, yeah, of course, Joel. That sounds lovely." Joel laughs into the phone, making the butterflies in your stomach take flight once again. "Sounds good. I was thinking...Saturday morning, say, 10 o'clock? At that new coffee shop downtown." You glance at the calendar on your wall. "Um, I actually have a class then. Could you do twelve and we could get lunch?" "Sounds great, darlin'." The two of you continue to talk for what feels like hours, and when you finally hang up, your heart is giddy with excitement. You turn to look at yourself in the mirror. "Jesus fucking Christ," you mutter to yourself. "Am I really going on a date with the hottest fucking man in Austin? Maybe....maybe he truly does want to do it to talk about Sarah. Don't let 'em get in your head, girl," you scold yourself sternly. After Joel hangs up, he leans back in his chair and runs his hand through his grey-streaked hair. "Was I being too forward?" He thought to himself. "Maybe she thinks I'm some sort of creep. No, she reacted pretty well to me asking her."

Both of you went to bed that night with looming doubts over your head, along with anticipation for Saturday to come.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter to yourself. The numbers 11:43 glare back at you and you still haven’t picked out an outfit.

Finally, finally you settle on slightly baggy jeans paired with a button up, cropped shirt that had a cute tie in the front. A little more skin than you usually show, but you know Joel will appreciate it. Not having time to put on real makeup, you quickly apply some lip gloss and mascara. After triple checking yourself in the mirror, you deem yourself worthy of Joel’s attention. You glance at the clock again. 11:56. You’re definitely going to be late. You throw yourself and your belongings into your car, driving the short ten minutes to the coffee shop. You see Joel already waiting outside, wearing a button down black and green flannel with black pants. You can tell he’s nervous, and you feel bad for being so late.

“Hey,” you call to him, rushing out of your car. “I’m so sorry I was late- I got caught up-“

“Hey, darlin, it’s okay,” he says soothingly, standing up to awkwardly pull your chair away from the table for you. “You look beautiful.”

You giggle, making his heart flutter as you both sit down and pick up a menu. You can’t help but notice how your knees brush together under the table, sending electric shocks through your body with just that simple touch.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, hot stuff,” you grin.

“Me? Hot stuff? I think you got the wrong guy,” Joel laughs, but secretly inside, he was raving at your compliment.

“So, what was it you were wanting to talk about Sarah?” You initiate the conversation after ordering your coffees, an iced caramel macchiato for you and a hot black coffee for Joel.

“Just wanted to see how she’s doing in your class. ‘F she has potential, you know, all those basic ass parent questions that you probably get every day.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of him, enhancing his muscular biceps and pecs.

Eyes up, keep your eyes up, you tell yourself.

You laugh easily. “Yeah, I do get that question a lot. But you seem…different. Like you actually care about how your daughter’s doing, unlike some parents who force their kids to dance well so they can win some gold medals. I admire that, Joel.”

Joel feels his cheeks flush as you say that. “I do truly care about Sarah. She’s m’heart and soul, y’know?”

I nod in understanding. “Yeah. I love a lot of my students like they’re my own daughter.” You bite your lip as you try not to smile at the thought of Sarah being your own daughter one day. “Anyways, Sarah is doing great. Even with just having one class, she has a great sense of rhythm and a good concept of the movements it takes to execute dance skills properly. She’s fairly flexible, and with a lot of training she could be one of my top dancers.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, a proud look in his eyes. “That so?” He shakes his head. “That kid is something else, I swear. She’s fucking talented at everything.”

“Well, she had to have gotten her talent from somewhere, huh?” You smirk at Joel. “Are you a dancer? Not that I’m saying you could not be. I think everyone’s a dancer at heart.”

Joel flushes bright red, shaking his head quickly. “No, no. I don’t dance, darlin’.”

“Oh, come on, I’m sure you’re great at it,” you giggle, gently swatting Joel’s shoulder playfully. His skin feels like it was electrified with your touch.

How can a man like someone so much the second time he met them?

“So, tell me about yourself. This is a date, ain’t it?” He asks with a smirk.

You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself from grinning widely. “Yeah, I guess it is. Well, uh, I’m 26, I like to dance-“

“No shit,” Joel interrupts, making you laugh.

“Yeah, I know, crazy, right? Well…let’s see. I moved here from Michigan…you already knew that. I have a dog named Javi, and my favorite color is sage green. I- Jesus, why does it sound like I’m writing my tinder profile?”

Joel smirks. “No need. You got everything you need right here.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“No, I’m serious. You truly are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on, you know that?” He says softly, and you can’t help but notice how his hand scoots closer to yours slightly.

“You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself,” you joke, but you can’t hide the heat climbing up your cheeks.

“So, what about you? Tell me what you’d put on your Tinder profile.”

You stick your tongue out at him playfully.

He quickly shakes away the thought of that tongue wrapped around his cock, tears dripping from your pretty eyes. “I-uh, well, I’m pretty fucking sexy, so there’s that.”

You roll your eyes. “Ok, ok, I know that, but actually tell me about yourself, you bastard,” you giggle.

“Ok darlin’, I’m a contractor, I have my own business alongside my younger brother Tommy, who got the less handsome gene of the family,” he smirks. “I’m 35, and my favorite color is…red, I guess? I don’t have much time to think about that shit.”

You lean back in your chair, smiling easily at him.

“Fair enough.”

You two continue to talk effortlessly for almost three hours, before finally, you have to leave to go teach an evening class.

“This was so great, Joel,” you grin, standing up to hug him. “I hope we can do this again in the future?”

”Of course, darlin’. I love talkin’ with you, pretty little thing,” he hugs you back, fighting the urge to kiss you on the cheek. “Call me when you get back to the studio, alright?”

“Will do,” you give him a thumbs up before gathering your stuff up from the table.

“See ya, Joel.”

“See ya, darlin.”

tags (lemme know if you want to be added!)-

@skysmiller

#joel miller x reader #mrs ohara writes shit

[kyber-crystal]

rendezvous at midnight || jake “hangman” seresin

summary: you’ve always been good at handling any obstacle thrown your way. but when the clock starts ticking and you find yourself next to hangman, things change. could the new year bring with it a newfound love? maybe...

words: ~1.8k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, minor rivals-to-lovers trope but that’s it. this is mostly pretty fluffy!

a/n: so i had to repost this bc it flopped so hard...idk what’s happening to my fics lmao. i deeply apologize, this was really rushed and poorly written

It was only a matter of seconds before you choked to death.

You weren’t actually dying, but that was what it felt like. After growing accustomed to being in uniform most of the time, the switch to fine silk felt strange. Goosebumps rose up on your skin as you sat down at the bar and adjusted the strap of your form-fitting dress. 

As pretty and pearlescent as it was, it did little to keep you warm amidst the crowded area. 

You had practiced walking in heels in the morning until your ankles turned bright red. If you could ensure that you wouldn’t fall in front of everyone, you’d take all necessary steps to get there.

“How’s my favorite girl doing?” Penny offered you a warm smile and a sparkling glass of liquor. “Are you holding up okay?”

“Tired,” you explained. “I didn’t sleep last night.”

“Too busy thinking about him?”

“Come on, it’s not like that,” you groaned as you finished off your drink. “You know it’s not like that.”

“I know it is like that,” she quipped. 

“We compete. We don’t fall in love,” you said. “That’s what we do. We’re not going any farther than snarky insults.”

“Go find him. There’s half an hour ‘til the clock strikes 12,” It almost sounded like she was hinting at something. “Then you start fresh. Begin again. No rivalry. And if you’re lucky, you can steal a kiss or two.”

“Penny!” 

“What? I’m only giving you suggestions. Now shoo. I’m not letting you get drunk again and force poor Bob and Mav to drag you home.”

“Fine,” you exhaled as you set your glass down and got up. “I’ll catch you later…unless you’re too busy with one certain captain…”

Penny rolled her eyes and waved you off, trying not to smile. 

You found him standing alone in the corner, nursing a glass of tequila and looking quite content. Seeing his slim, toned figure under the dim bar lights tugged at your heartstrings. The man truly was a sight for sore eyes, save the rivalry…and ego…and overcompetitive nature.

“Tired already?” you asked. Hangman looked up, and the corners of his mouth turned up a bit. “It’s a lot, isn’t it.”

“Sure is,” he chuckled. “You look…incredible, darling.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, suddenly feeling nervous in front of him. “You do, too.”

“Hard to believe it’s almost January. It feels like we got here yesterday.”

“I don’t believe in time. This isn’t real,” you shook your head and laughed. “Things go by way too fast for me to process anything. I’m in denial of the fact that none of us knew each other five years ago.”

“Coyote and Payback weren’t best friends. Let that sink in,” Hangman added on. “Neither were Bob and Phoenix.”

“There’s no way…”

“Part of me misses how we used to be, though. Before the academy.”

“Jake, we fought all the time through college,” you reminded him. “Why would you want to go back to it?”

“Well…the year’s almost over. Might as well turn over a new leaf,” he held a hand out to you. “What do you say?”

“Okay.” You smiled, and shook his hand. “I like the sound of that.”

“It’s like they’re sucked into their own bubble. Lost in their own little world,” Payback observed the two of you laughing together. “Y’know, the tiny city in the Lorax? Like that, but make it naval aviators. It’s cute.”

“It would be cuter if they would just kiss already,” Fanboy groaned. “How long has it been? Four years?”

“‘Cause Seresin’s dumb ass thinks that insulting Y/N all the time is the ultimate way to win her over. None of his thousand attempts have come across to her clear enough yet,” Coyote backed up. “But we gotta give ‘em time. That’s all we can do right now.”

“I guess so…”

“Jake. If you keep chugging your tequila like that, you’ll regret it,” you warned. “Starting the new year with a hangover isn’t the way to go.”

“You said my first name.”

“Did you even hear what I said after that?”

“You’ve never said my first name before,” Hangman observed. “But now you did. It’s nice. I like the change.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to get annoyed, not when he was looking at you the way he currently was. Eyes once filled with hardness and frustration now softened at the sight of you.

“Hold still.” Your brows furrowed in concentration as you reached up to fix his tie. “Your tie’s all crooked.”

Your fingers accidentally brushed against his skin, and electricity shot through your body. You stood there, frozen for a moment, before bringing them down—and his eyes stayed on you the whole time.

“There,” you stated, dusting your hands off. It was a miracle that you could utter even a word without your voice trembling. “Good as new.”

“Thanks.”

The awkward silence that fell over you afterward was rather heavy. You didn’t know how long it lasted for, standing there, avoiding intense eye contact while trying not to melt into the floor.

A series of loud voices snapped you out of your awkward moment. Everyone had gathered around the bar, watching the TV and counting out loud. Thirty seconds left…so you let Hangman take your hand and lead you closer to the scene. 

You didn’t say anything, even when he kept his grip on your hand and looked up at the screen. You found that you liked the company and didn’t want him to let go of you.

15, 14, 13, 12

11, 10, 9, 8

Hangman turned towards you once again. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

“Okay.” The word was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. 

7, 6

5, 4

His hand slid up to your cheek. The air in the room grew impossibly thicker, and you face felt hotter.

3, 2, 1...and like a flash of lightning, his lips are on yours and you melt into his touch. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin and you hold onto his shoulders to keep your balance. Both of you are most likely a bit tipsy but that does little to slow down the butterflies in your stomach. He’s everywhere and you’re on fire and you should stop yourselves at this point but you don’t. You can’t, because you don’t want to. How could you have imagined that his lips would feel so perfect; so delicately warm and soft against yours; that with one small gesture, he could break down the walls you tried so hard to build up around your heart. He was here, but he was everywhere, too. 

When you finally break apart, you’re dazed and confused. You’re too out of it to notice Bob and Coyote exchanging wads of cash, or that it’s already several minutes past twelve. Your head is spinning, and your knees feel weak. 

It’s a miracle that you make it home that night without passing out.

It was only a kiss, you tell yourself. That’s all it was supposed to be. But it still manages to creep its way into your dreams, into your sleep, and sinks into your skin—you can’t escape it. What had only lasted for a few minutes was taking up your entire day and sucking all the energy from your body. You wanted to crawl into a deep hole and stay there forever—at least in the darkness, nobody could visualize your embarrassment. And your reddening face. And the way you clung to him like there was no tomorrow.

“The queen has finally emerged from her beauty sleep.” Maverick looked amused as you lifted your head off your desk and blinked. “Welcome back.”

“Sorry, Mav,” you mumbled as you rubbed your eyes. 

He gave you a look that seemed to say he understood what was going on. “It’s okay. Now back to what I was saying…”

It was like you were dragging your feet through rivers of mud. You could still feel him. His lips ghosting over yours, hands leaving the imprint of his tantalizing touch on your waist. You couldn’t get the feeling out of your head…but how could you? This was Hangman, and Hangman was a difficult person to forget—he was everything and you hated to love it.

After the day’s lesson finished, you were out of there and in the dining hall as fast as possible. 

“You look like you saw your morals fly right out the window,” Fanboy noted as he set his tray down and sat next to you. 

“Because they did,” you muttered. “New year, new me? More like new year, and old habits die hard.”

“I wouldn’t call your feelings for Seresin an old habit. They’ve always been there. It came to you naturally.”

“Shut up before I throw this juicebox at you.”

“You should do something, you know. You kissed.”

“And we had both been drinking before. He only initiated it because of the liquor confidence boost.”

“So? That doesn’t change how he was looking at you before. He was standing over there waiting for you to come to him,” Fanboy argued. “Give the man a chance. You ran away too fast last night.”

“Fine. But you owe me dinner tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

Can we talk?

You typed out a quick Meet by the docks before grabbing your purse and heading out the door. He was already there when you arrived.

“Hey…” you began.

“Hey.”

You stood there in silence as he started to speak. “So, about last night. I wasn’t drunk, at least, not enough to forget what I said or did. I hope you weren’t? I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you.”

“I wasn’t.” 

“Okay, good.”

“Yeah.”

“Great.”

Right then, you became all too aware of the way he was gazing at you—alcohol or not, the look in Hangman’s eyes was the exact same as the one last night…and you felt your pulse start racing. Had he always stared at you that way but you were too oblivious to notice? 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” your voice came out so quiet that he almost missed what you said. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t know how else to look at you.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot. It was only a kiss. Nothing more. 

“You didn’t do it out of pity, right?”

“I couldn’t do that to you or myself. I didn’t do it on accident, Y/N. It wasn’t a mistake.”

“Oh.”

You took three steps toward him, enough to be mere inches away from his face. His arms wrapped around you on instinct and you let him pull you close. Then when he tilted his head down to kiss you again, you let him, and the butterflies remained. 

He was here, and he was everywhere, too.

tags, including those who may be interested: @queenbbarnes​ @walkonthewiidside​ @sarcastic-sourwolf​ @totomoshi​ @sebastianstangirl01​ @altheadarling​ @hay-9105​ @purelyfiction​ @93joons​ @yeehawnana​ @lunamoonbby​ @hazelgirl355​ @multifandom-fangirl4​ @paintballkid711​ @lyn-lc​ @azari-anna​ @thelifeofthelifeofme​ @spawn0fsatan​ @milestomaverick​ @newlibrary​ @ellabellabus07​ @criminalyetminimal​ @whatlovegattado​ @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel​ @hufflepuffprincesse​ @ice-mans-world​ @burnedbrisket​ @fangirlinc​ @marveljunkie45​ @knowledgefulbutterfly​ @levis-butterfingers​ @organabanks​ @coastingline​ @skylynch03​ @chaoticassidy​ @hbstre​ @mercury-mae​ @light-the-moon​ @winteryoungie​ @aie1840​ @thisismypointofview​ @minivture​ @teacactusworld​ @icemansgirl1999​​ @cherry-waved​ @vane28282​ @worldsoldestpizzaslice

#top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun fic #top gun fanfic #jake seresin #hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman seresin x reader #glen powell #top gun maverick fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic

[shitouttabuck]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @thewolvesof1998 thank u bud i’m procrastinating packing and this was fun

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

seven!

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

129,484 which is a fake number to me

3. what fandoms do you write for?

nothing has made me as insane in my life as network television procedural drama 911 on abc, so

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

you can start a family who will always show you love

let the world have its way with you

my hearts over-pumping and your mouth is an ambulance

like a dog with a bird at your door

i like the summer rain (i like the sounds you make)

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i try very hard to because they make me so happy and it’s unbelievably kind of people to take the time to leave them!!! However i sometimes leave it too long and then worry it’s weird to reply after like. a month. which as a fic reader i wouldn’t give a shit about so idk what my problem is!!!! i will reply i will just maybe take a hot sec to do it

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i don’t have any i’m a happily ever after or bust kinda guy in my own head if nowhere else…… angstiest is probably the sound of love astounds me if only because it ends post-feelings realisation but still pre-relationship

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

they’re all so happy omg. i will say with great personal bias it’s my heart’s over-pumping but also i have. a sequel in the works….

8. do you get hate on fics?

no people have been very very very lovely but also sjjsjsjs i’ve not been here super long. the funniest comment i’ve gotten was on my first fic where someone was like i liked this but it is jarringly inaccurate as mcdonald’s in california doesn’t have a veggie burger option 😭 i cried laughing im so sorry to u americans. pls petition your local mcdonald’s to stock the mcplant it slaps

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

have written two e-rated fics….. it’s very fun but i don’t think i’m very good so i’d like to practice actually (maybe some sexy prompts after i finish the bed-sharing ones?) just the regular kind for now like i love buck and eddie desperately and am myself into a million things but i don’t know how kinky they would actually get in my own head. so just a little gross with it for now i guess

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope!

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

no that would be SICK. @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove is podficcing bucket list fic which is so very cool of her!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

no omg i don’t know how y’all do it i’m bad at group projects but also this sounds soooooo fun. if also deeply stressful

14. what’s your all time favorite ship?

if that’s synonymous with most likely to get you institutionalised, uh. gestures around us. otherwise mulder/scully and i am just now right as i’m typing this realising i’ve never ever in my life actually read x files fic what the fuck. also steve/bucky but i haven’t read fic since 2017 probably

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

listen i have not written a word for x files au past that one snip i shared forever ago. i want to soooo bad i’ve talked about it to some of you very rabidly but. it does not want to be written and if it did it would have to be so fucking long which is very daunting to me. not saying i’ve put her in the ground yet but. we might need some necromancing

16. what are your writing strengths?

i think i’m pretty good at writing in character? mostly? sometimes i struggle with buck just because i think we’re very similar and i project a little and then have to go back and fix it lmao but for the most part i think i’m good at that! and i have a lot of fun writing dialogue

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

plot!!!!!! and pacing!!!!!!!!!!! also my inability to write non-linearly omg if i get stuck i just get Stuck i can’t jump ahead

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

oooh i love it and would love to include more than the teeniest bits i have but i’m so conscious about it sounding natural and not stiff to people whose language it actually is (shout out and a million kisses to @eddiebabygirldiaz for fixing the spanish in i love you like a dog!!!!!)

19. first fandom you wrote for?

911 babey!

20. favorite fic you’ve written?

my heart’s over-pumping and your mouth is an ambulance !!! not just because it was the first fic i posted after joining tumblr fandom but. idk it is so so so special to me like it makes me so happy and when i think about it i’m like. hey u wrote that. good for u my dude. and also maybe i just associate it with meeting a bunch of you whjsjssjsj

tagging @callaplums @eddiebabygirldiaz @housewifebuck @rewritetheending @try-set-me-on-fire @onward--upward @anxieteandbiscuits @devirnis @athenagranted if anyone wants to do this i’m nosy soz if you already have !!!!

#tag game #if you see me posting later today. send me hate mail i need to pack

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 12: Heaven in Hiding

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

* Warnings: language, stressed Stella, threatening a police officer(eh? I think? Technically lmao), I think this chapter is pretty tame?

* Word count: 4,711ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! This one is a longer one too, so thank you for sticking around. I think this is one of my favorite chapters so far.

Rip opened the door for Stella to the foreman’s lodge and quietly told her to make herself at home. She plopped her sleeping bag on the couch that was inside the door. She wasn’t particularly thrilled with having to sleep on it, but it was better than the floor again. Placing her backpack on the table next to the couch, she took off her coat and hung it by the door. Stella could feel Rip’s eyes on her. He must have been trying to figure out if she was going to have a breakdown.

She didn’t bother to stop what she was doing to look at him before she spoke. Opening the scrunch bag her sleeping bag was in, she said tiredly, “I’m fine, Rip.” With a bit of struggle, she wrestled the sleeping bag out. When he didn’t say anything in reply, she broke her focus to find him leaning against the kitchen counter. His arms crossed and his face stoic. Even with the stoicism she could tell he didn’t believe her. “What?” She asked, walking around the back of the couch and mirroring his posture.

He almost broke and let a smirk escape at her crossed arms and the cute little scrunch that had taken over her full round cheeks. Lloyd’s words of them being similar came back to him. He had to think about how he should approach this because he didn’t want her to get angry with him again and hightail it.

“How are you okay with this?”

“I mean, is it tragic? Absolutely.” Stella leaned her hands against the back of the couch. “But one thing y’all have taught me is don’t get stuck in the what ifs. So I’m trying not to. I’m just focusing on what we’re gonna do tomorrow with the sheriff.”

Rip removed his hat and set it down gently on the counter. When he turned back to Stella his eyebrows were raised. “We?”

Stella frowned quizzically at him. “Uh, yeah? We were both involved.”

He shook his head. “No, I don't think we’re gonna mention you.”

“But we can’t just throw you under the bus by yourself! They’re gonna see two sets of footprints, two sets of hoof prints. It was my rope that was used, and I don’t have any sort of alibi, not to mention my finger prints are on your rifle,” she counted all the reasons on her fingers. “How could we keep my involvement a secret? Especially when the feds are probably getting brought in? Killing that bear was a federal offense. Self defense or not.”

He breathed out loudly, almost like a scoff. “You’re overthinking it. You’re brother and Colby, hell any of the wranglers would lie for you in a heartbeat. Hell, we could even get Kayce to say something. I’ll go up the mountain with John early before the sheriff gets here. We’ll take care of second tracks.”

“Someone has to think about it, Rip! You’re acting like we didn’t just witness people die and then kill a federally protected species! And I will not have someone else put their ass on the line for me for nothing.”

“Well we all would. And that’s because we didn’t do anything. It was all me.”

“You realize I’m not going to let you take the fall alone, right?”

“I’ll hide the horses.”

“You think that’ll stop me? We have four wheelers.” She straightened herself but kept her arms crossed. “Hell, I’ll sneak out early and walk up there before y’all even open your eyes.”

Rip bit his tongue. He knew he was walking in thin ice. “Alright, how about this?” He stepped closer to her. He figured he would take both of their opinions out of the equation. Stella looked at the floor, expecting to be scolded like a child. “We’ll let John decide in the morning and whatever he says, goes.”

She snapped her head up at him, taken aback that he was being patient with her. The way things had been between them the past few days had been rough. She automatically expected the worst. She uncrossed her arms and stood up straight and pushed her lenses back up her nose. “Does this mean we’re good now? You’ve got whatever gross out about me being friends with Kayce?”

It was a loaded question, but Rip understood why she asked. Whatever qualms he had with Kayce didn’t have anything to do with her. He knew she was smart enough to deal with whatever Kayce brought her way.

Stella continued with a smile gracing her lips. “Because you remember saying something about getting me into all kinds of shit or whatever?”

Rip had a feeling he knew where this was going, but nodded anyhow.

“Well who’s done it now?” She locked innocent but mischievous eyes with him.

He smacked his lips at her and gave her shoulder a gentle nudge. Stella giggled and stepped backward. “Alright Stella-belle. Go on and get to bed. We’ve got an early morning. I’m takin’ the couch and your sleeping bag as a blanket.”

She made a noise, about to complain, but thought better of it. She didn’t want to fuck the good vibe that was between them again. “Yessir,” she gave him a mock salute and strolled to the bedroom of the lodge.

Once in there she took a moment to herself. The last time she had been in here, she had been waking Lee up because he uncharacteristically overslept. That made the room heavy. It was almost like Lee was here. She wasn’t exactly sure where she stood on the whole ghost thing, but she wouldn’t mind if he did visit her.

Stella went to the lamp that was beside the bed and turned it on to brighten the room. The bun that sat atop her head started to hurt. Her glasses came off, she laid them down on the small bedside table, and unwrapped the scrunchie letting her hair fall around her shoulders. She swiped her hair to the left and realized she wanted out of the jeans she was in. She poked her head out of the bedroom door to see Rip sitting on the couch in quiet contemplation. Leaning on the door jamb she cleared her throat.

Rip’s head swiveled in her direction. He swallowed, not used to seeing her with her hair down or without her glasses. She looked soft and feminine to him, not the scrappy spitfire he was used to seeing. “Yeah?”

“Do you have sweatpants or something I could borrow? I’m tired of these jeans.”

He jumped up off the couch. “Oh yeah, let me get them for you.”

She laughed. “I can get them, Wheelie. Just tell me where they are.”

He stopped short. It had been a long time since she had called him that. He grinned affectionately at her. “Top left drawer of the short dresser.”

A small smile adorned her cheeks. “Thank you,” she mumbled quietly and turned around to go find the offered pants. She found the drawer and pulled the first pair of pants out, quickly slipping out of the offensive jeans and into the much comfier pajama pants.

She walked back to the door and watched Rip get the couch ready to lay down on. He unzipped her sleeping bag and flopped it out to use as a blanket. A soft smile came across her face and leaned her head against the doorway. Even though she wanted to strangle him for the last few days, she really was grateful for his existence in her life. One thing she knew she could always count on was the feeling of safety in his presence. She was so stuck in her own head, she hadn’t noticed him looking at her when he was finished.

His voice came through, sounding like it was in a tunnel as it brought her back to the present. “Stella? Is everything okay?” He took in her comfy appearance and noticed she had chosen his favorite pair of sleep pants.

“Uh, yeah. Everything is okay. I just wanted to say I found the pants and make sure you didn’t need anything else before I laid down.”

“I’m alright Stella-belle. You sleep good, alright?”

Stella smiled and turned around to head to the bed.

The alarm Stella had set for 4:00 am went off quietly under her head in the pillow. She wasn’t going to let Rip get to John first and convince him that she shouldn’t be involved. So she was going to get there first. As quiet as she could in this creaky bedroom, she got up, grabbed her glasses, and creeped out to the door to devise a plan to get to her back pack. It was, unfortunately, still on the table right by a slumbering Rip’s head. Standing at the door she watched him carefully to make sure he was still sleeping. It wasn’t often that she had seen him peaceful. She decided it was a good look for him. There was a slim to none chance of making it happen while he was awake. Unless he was with Beth.

She tiptoed from the bedroom door and around the back of the couch. Halfway around the couch Rip groaned and changed position. She stopped in her tracks. Her eyes closed, shoulders tensed, and jaw clenched. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself. A sigh escaped his lips as he got comfortable and fell back into his snoozing. Stella let out a slow breath that she had been holding. She continued around the side of the couch, and reached out to grab her back pack.

With a quick and quiet snatch, she padded her way back to the bedroom. “All this for the pair of clean underwear in this bag,” she muttered, annoyed at herself. She opened the bag and dug around to find the emergency pair she always carried. Finding it, she gave a quiet ha and changed back into her jeans from the day before. She thanked the gods above that her boots were in here, but had second thoughts of putting them on until she got out outside.

She looked at her bag and decided it would be safe here until they were done later. Picking up her boots, she inched her way out into the living room again. She stopped briefly when she noticed Rip was in a different position. Her eyes squinted in suspicion, worried that he might be waking up. This was about the usual time he started his day.

Carefully, she snuck back around the couch and grabbed her jacket. A swift movement brought the jacket over her shoulders and she slipped her arms through. She put her hand on the door knob and turned it, but it rattled louder than any alarm. The sound was way louder than she intended. A grimace took over and she looked one more time over her shoulder at the sleeping foreman. “Sleep tight,” she murmured.

Hurriedly she closed the door behind her as softly as possible and made her way to the end of the front walkway. Throwing on her boots, she sped off to her car. There was a back road that led up the mountain near that cliff. She would beat them all to the punch.

When she was almost to the barn where she had parked, she slowed her gait to a walk to catch her breath. She loved sneaking but also hated the adrenaline rush that came with it.

Stella made it to her car with a smug smile on her face. She reached out for the door handle. She pulled it rapidly but footsteps rushed up on her from behind. The door snapped closed out of her hand. She gasped and spun on her heel to confront the offender. Her face was in the person’s chest. Leaning back against her car she looked up. It was Rip and he was way too close to her.

“What’re ya doin’, Stella?” He looked down the bridge of his nose at her. The deadpan look on his face and the fact that she’d been caught red handed trying to escape had her mouth hanging open. The two of them huffed lightly in each other’s faces.

“Uh,” Stella struggled to find words, “um.” She swallowed thickly. “I was just coming out to,” her sentence cut short as Rip leaned closer and trapped her against her car with his arms on either side of her. She couldn’t breathe.

He smirked. Amused that he was able to catch her off guard and used it to his advantage. “To what?”

Stella remained speechless. She didn’t have any excuse to give to him.

He called her out, maintaining direct eye contact. “You thought you were gonna be slick and head up the mountain before everyone else so you wouldn’t be told no, huh? What happened to letting Mr. Dutton decide?”

Stella made a groan of complaint relaxing back against her car. She angled her face up at him trying to adjust for the annoyingly close proximity. “I just don’t see how we can logically lie me outta this, Rip.” She admitted in a soft voice. Her hand wound its way up to push her hair out of her face. Her mouth felt dry at being trapped. “Can you back up? I’m not gonna run.” He slowly dropped back a few inches just in case she decided to dart away. It was far enough back that she didn’t feel trapped anymore. “Thank you.” The words were soft when they came out.

“Miss Stella-belle. Always trying to do the right thing.” He chuckled. He grabbed her in a quick hug. “How’d we get so lucky to have heaven in hiding with us?”

Her eyebrows crinkled as Rip pulled away. She tilted her head to the left. “Rip, are you drunk?” She had only ever heard him talk about Beth like that. “I think you need to go back to bed.”

“No, I’m not drunk. Just seeing things in a different light.”

“Okay there, enlightened one.” She patted his chest, trying to get him to back up a few more inches. “Listen, you caught me okay? I’ll wait until he gets here.”

Rip breathed out and backed up. “Alright, I’m trusting you. I’m gonna go get my hat.” He took a few steps backwards and pointed to her, still keeping eye contact. “Don’t make me regret it.”

When he turned around, Stella sagged back in her car again. She was overwhelmed at all the emotions that swirled in her head about the whole situation. “Hellfire.” She breathed out.

Around her the sounds of the ranch coming to life for the day took over the silence. Off to her right she watched as Lloyd, her brother, and the rest of the wranglers filed out of the bunkhouse and toward the barn. None of them, except Lloyd, looked like they were awake yet. She smiled at the sleepy stumble they made.

From behind her car, she heard gravel crunch underneath tires. It caught her attention and she turned to look. John pulled up in his truck. He lumbered out of the tall vehicle. Making his way to Stella he took in the small smile that hung around her mouth. He was glad she was content here, but if they couldn’t convince the sheriff and fish and game what happened was the truth… things wouldn’t be so lovely in a few days.

“Stella, you’re to stay here.” John instructed, interrupting her moment of peace.

Her mouth dropped open with a scoff. “Excuse me?”

Rip added as he stepped up behind them, “she’s bound and determined to be involved.”

“Damn it, that’s because I was involved!” Stella turned and gave John a pleading look.

“I told her she’s overthinking it, sir.” Rip said.

Stella snorted. “Yeah and clearly someone has to because it appears no one has thought that far ahead. Except maybe Jamie if he’s aware of the problem.” She breathed out harshly, collecting herself before she fired off. “Sir, just listen to me for a second.” John waved her to continue.

“The feds are most certainly getting involved. If they see any kind of tampering, which they would pick up on no matter how good we did it, Rip would be tossed even further under the bus.”

She locked eyes with John. “Like I told Rip last night; they’re gonna see two sets of footprints, hoofprints, it was my rope that was used and his rope is still attached to his saddle. I don’t have an alibi and he needs someone else to back up his word about what actually happened! Not to mention my fingerprints are on his rifle and my DNA is on the rope.” John remained quiet as he waited for her to finish. “And I’ll be damned if someone takes the fall for something that I also had a part in and I have no repercussions. I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

John’s hands were in his pockets and Rip placed his hands on his hips when she came to the end of her rant. Each of them for different reasons, but fair reasons nonetheless. John didn’t want her to be in this tight spot, but as he listened to her reasoning he couldn’t deny that she made a good point. Rip was flustered at Stella throwing herself on the tracks for him and everyone she cared about.

“So I say I go.” Stella looked over at the wranglers warming up the horses in the round arena, put her hands in her jacket pockets, and sniffed; the cold making her nose run. She wasn’t sure what had changed in the last few weeks, but she was starting to get tired of the back and forth and constantly having to argue with people.

John cleared his throat. If being involved in the deeper side of things on the ranch is what she wanted, that’s what he would give her. “Okay Stella, you go, but you follow my every direction. Let’s load up on the horses.”

Stella spun on her heels and went to get Abigail ready before either of the men could change their minds.

The ride up the back road started to feel like it would never end. Every step the horses took almost elongated the trail even further. Things between the three of them had been silent the entire way. She zoned out in front of her and Abigail and tried to pass the time by imagining how the meeting with the sheriff would turn out.

John cleared his throat, slowing his horse's gait. “You sure you don’t want to back out now?” He glanced at Stella, eyebrows raised in suggestion. “Because you can turn back here.”

Stella scowled at John. “Damn it, yes, I’m sure. Whatever comes, we’ll work the problem and that’s that.” She heard Rip suck his teeth at her answer. She knew he was hoping for a different reply. “Look Rip, you can be pissed all you want. All I have to say is tough shit homeboy.”

John had to turn his head to the side to avoid his smile being seen. He was glad that his daughter wasn’t the only one giving his foreman a run for his money. He made the right decision to keep her around. That made his mind up. She would come out of this just fine.

They trotted up and the sheriff and his team were already here. John turned to Stella and Rip. “Don’t speak unless spoken to, and don’t give too many details. Bare minimum unless I say otherwise.” It was mostly a warning for Stella because Rip already knew how things went.

Stella nodded with a mock salute. “Yessir.”

John was the first off of his horse. He slowly made his way over to the sheriff. Rip got down and grabbed Stella’s reins. She frowned for a second, but recovered her face to neutral when Rip held out a hand for her to use to dismount. ‘What the actual?’ Stella questioned herself. Rip shook his hand at her telling her to get a move on and take his hand. She grabbed it carefully and swung her leg over, using his hand like a springboard to catch her weight as she hopped off of Abigail. There was a quiet breath of sound that left Rip’s mouth as he supported her jump.

Her feet hit the ground with a solid thud. “You know I could’ve gotten down just fine right?” She looked up at Rip underneath the brim of his hat, since they were still hidden by the large mare. Instead of dignifying her objection with a verbal response he clucked at her and wound his arm around her placing his hand in the small of her back, effectively turning her toward the problem at hand. He led her up to stand next to their boss who was at that cursed tree next to the cliff.

When the duo got closer to the cliff, Rip could feel Stella tense through his hand still on her lower back. Her feet stopped abruptly, not wanting to go any further. He rubbed his hand against her shoulders to reassure her that she was safe. Stella breathed out willing her feet to quit sticking to the ground.

John looked over the edge at the people bringing up the tourists. Rip placed Stella in between himself and the tree behind John. He wanted to hide her from the view of the police. He didn’t want her to be here at all if he was fully transparent with himself.

Stella wasn’t exactly thrilled at being that close to the edge. She’d almost fallen to the same fate of the tourists if it wouldn’t have been for Rip gripping her up. She was fine standing back in the shadows for the time being though. She couldn’t believe she had actually convinced John that she should be involved. Now that she was here, she wasn’t sure what steps to take next. She didn’t think she would have gotten this far.

“What a fuckin' mess, John.” Sheriff Donnie Haskell announced looking disappointed.

“You'd think these tourists would learn the wilderness isn't a theme park.” John said as he paced over to Donnie. Stella followed Rip’s lead and hung back by the tree.

“That's not what I'm talking about.” He motioned to the bear. “I'm talking about that.” Stella grimaced at the memory. Brown bears and grizzly bears were her favorite animals besides horses. It hurt that Rip had to do what he did, but they would be human pâté if he hadn’t.

Donnie continued. “Now I gotta get an agent up here from Fish and Wildlife. That's a federal offense. What's the ETA on Wildlife?” Stella had to hide the smirk that wanted to appear at having someone else tell John and Rip the same thing she did.

“Said a few hours.” One of the other officers answered from a few feet away.

John went in on the defense quickly. “It was self-defense, Donnie. Let's not overreact here.”

“They’re out here looking for a bear you told them to hunt.” Donnie fired back.

Rip leaned back against the tree and looked at the ground. Stella was feeling like they were in the principal’s office. She made sure the second part of the tree trunk was behind her and rested back on it and angled her body toward Rip. She couldn’t help herself and leaned against his shoulder for some safety. He put his arm around her shoulders and he gave them a squeeze. He knew she was out of her element, but he wanted her to know neither John nor himself would steer her wrong here.

“I told them to haze it out of here before it killed my cattle.”

“Here's the picture Fish and Wildlife are gonna paint. They are up here hunting illegally, kill an endangered species.”

Rip turned and let Stella go as he blew out a breath. He was getting angry at what the sheriff had to say. Stella tried to quietly keep him from exploding.

“Witnessed by two tourists that they then throw off the fucking cliff. Then he gives me some bullshit story about throwing them a rope… And both of them, John, both of them slip.”

Stella’s blood pumped through her ears like a drum beat. “It was actually me who threw them the rope. It’s missing from my saddle. You can check. And everything we’ve told you is true.”

“We’ll see about that, Stella.” Donnie’s voice foreboding.

“I'm calling Jamie.” John determined.

“You're gonna need him.”

John pulled out his phone “Jamie. I got a real problem, and you're not here to fix it. Call me back.”

“Look at me Rip.” He leaned to face her fully. “Everything is fine. We’re gonna be okay.”

“It doesn’t help that Haskell is being a prick about it.”

“I get it, I do. But the problem is, this is a huge fuck up. On our part, on his part, and he’s probably pissed he’s gotta fill out a bunch of paperwork.”

He gazed down at her speechless at her ability to stay lighthearted when the situation was far from it. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to his chest. Placing a solid kiss on the top of her head to let her know the message was received. He let her go just as quickly as he had grabbed her. Stella didn’t even have time to open her eyes before he backed up a few inches.

John marched over to the pair. “They're gonna make a real stink out of this.”

“That's what I get for trying to do the right thing. I should've just buried them all.” Rip sounded defeated. Like he had already accepted the fate of going down for this.

“Hey knock it off. What’s done is done and you were trying to do it right.” Stella nudged his arm.

John stepped away to the space in between her and Rip. “Where were you standing, Rip?”

“Both of us were right here. Stella scooted back a bit when the bear charged, but we were both right here.” He pointed to the animal. “I mean, if that ain't self-defense, I don't know what is.”

“If that's where you were really standing.”

At the same time Stella and Rip went in on the sheriff.

“Hey, Donnie!” Rip started.

Stella shouted. “Oh come off it!”

Rip stalked over to Donnie. “There's powder burns on his fucking nose, man. Why don't you do your job?”

Stella placed herself in between the sheriff and Rip. “After the tourists fell, the bear came up over the hill. It gave a warning stomp once, then charged. It gave no time for adjustment. At all. You’d be an idiot to not know that was self defense!” Stella put herself in Donnie’s face.

Donnie looked down at Stella unthreatened. “John, you better calm your attack dog and attack dog in training down here, or we're gonna have this conversation in town.”

Rip witnessed Stella’s fist ball up and knew she was about to crank that Soulja Boy back to let a solid punch fly. She stepped backward to brace herself to throw the punch. Rip grabbed her hand and forced her fingers to interlock with his. They didn’t need her catching a charge for assaulting a police officer.

“Rip, Stella. Go to the house and wait for Fish and Wildlife.” John called them off.

Rip pulled Stella away from Donnie with their still interlocked hands. He pushed her in front of him and forced her away from the problem and to her horse. Rip sniffed indignantly at Donnie and trailed after Stella. They briskly walked past John, to which the foreman and ranch owner shared a look.

John came up to the sheriff. “I got enough problems without you inventing more for me.”

Sheriff Donnie scoffed. “Look, John, somebody kills a bear, and ten thousand vegans send letters to their Congressman. They won't send one goddamn letter for those tourists.” He raised his voice when John walked away. “Now you should have buried that thing in a hole before I got here, 'cause I ain't the problem, the Feds are.”

#yellowstone #kayce dutton #yellowstonetv #luke grimes #ian bohen #ryan #kayce dutton fan fiction #yellowstone fanfic #yellowstone fanfiction #kayce dutton fanfic #rip wheeler #john dutton

[antiradqueer]

i love this blog so much. i was groomed by specifically paraphile communities (anti-c and pro-c! would you look at that.) and because of that i was in the radqueer community for a bit. because i was like oh!! these people are pro-para aswell!! until i realized… most para communities and ‘pro-para’ communities are just harmful because they try to normalize the actions and thoughts instead of trying to help you heal from them. i was like 12 when it started and got out when i was 14. it went on for two whole years. i think it’s crazy. i was in a gc full of paras and was the youngest one there. (i joined it when i was 14 i think? but i knew the owner of it from the time i was 13.) everyone else was like 16-30+ and i think that’s INSANE. sfw or not how are you gonna put a minor (multiple minors. sometimes people younger than me joined.) into a gc full of adults, let them talk abt their paraphilias, have the ADULTS talk about theirs. and be like “we aren’t groomers!! we help and support!!” like yeah. sure. okay. the first thing i got asked when i joined the gc? “what are your paraphilias?” FROM A WHOLE ASS ADULT MAN. also mind you none of these people were quiet about their paraphilias. they claimed to be anti contact yet half of them would say weird shit about whatever they were attracted to. last time i checked you can’t be anti contact if you sexualize or say weird things about the things you’re attracted to if they can’t consent. and like. don’t get me wrong. i’m still a paraphile, i’ve got multiple that’d be harmful if i acted on them. but the thing is the thoughts don’t distress me anymore, because i’ve learnt how to cope with them in healthy ways and i’m not normalizing them to myself like the communities tried to get me to. but i’m not open about them, i don’t go around being like “IM A PARA!!!! I LIKE (THING)!! IF YOU DONT ACCEPT ME YOURE ABLEIST!!” so.. idk. para communities are just.. weird. esp radqueer communities since they normalize it way more. i think if you really wanna recover from something you can’t join a group of people who make it seem like acting on it is okay. anyways sorry for the long ass rant in your inbox. LMAO. i’m just happy this blog exists because it really helps me know that what i went through was real and i’m not just convincing myself i was groomed so i don’t view myself as a bad person. thank you for existing 🫶

what you went through sounds absolutely horrible, and I hope you can safely heal from that!

I also don't want to claim that what you say is wrong at all (the part about most/many para communities being weird as fuck), but I do want to mention again that this blog is pro-para (and strictly anti-c for harmful ones of course). just a reminder ^^ (/gentle)

I totally agree, in order to heal from harmful and disordered paraphilias, surrounding yourself with pro-c, neutral-c or whatever people is extremely contraproductive and dangerous - and the server you were in sounds a lot like being secretly pro-c, maybe even intended as a pipeline towards being pro-c. glad you got out!

#mod luna 🌙 #anti radqueer

[kyuusberry]

ranting abt kpop | kpop - drabble??

warnings: past controversial things, ranting abt annoying stans, cursing

notes: don’t be rude. defending idols is good, but if you’re defending their rude, offensive behavior, it’s not cool. seriously.

a/n: i don’t mean harm to anyone, this is just my personal opinion on it. i am still a minor, so please be appropriate. or you will be blocked.

cis men, homophobes, racists, 20+, smut accounts dni

i’m actually so sick of kpop rn.. like whether it’s the idols themselves, the staff, or the companies, the amount of controversies they’ve had are fucking crazy. chaeyoung wearing that n@zi shirt to a jewish restaurant & multiple times in public, idols saying the n word (giselle, hyolyn, julie, ect), getting hated on for being average/healthy weight, being underweight, getting hate because of the way you look (skin tone, race, eyes, ect), getting kicked out for false accusations, the way you talk, how your songs are (ex. soyeon making her group’s songs w/ both english & korean, but getting judged for it because it sounds “stupid” or doesn’t make sense), double standards, cultural appropriation!!! mocking desis, dancing in churches (fake or not), s3xualiz!ng minors?! holy shit. the list goes on and on. also. do not interact if you support any of these idols actions, its so so stupid and embarrassing when people baby their idols and protect them even when they’re grown adults (even if they’re not, still) and know wtf they’re doing. but then again, i’m just a 12 year old girl who doesn’t know what’s she’s doing apparently. AND. sending death threats does absolutely nothing. they’re just gonna go on with their life like usual. plus, it’s super immature. especially if you make up stuff or bring up plastic surgery or wtvr to make people unstan.. like?? you can unstan quietly! trying to educate them, is a better choice, but there’s still a chance they won’t listen. they can still do these things off camera too. they can just write an apology, get it over with, and do it again. it’s super duper hard to even stan groups after finding out what they did. if they’re a new group, it will probably happen eventually. or you could just stan the group and not support that specific member (or members). it’s also crazy that people are getting mad at idols for drinking and going to clubs, ESPECIALLY if they’re grown adults!! (jungkook, jennie, ect). smoking and/or vaping i get, because it’s bad blah blah blah (so is alcohol lmao), lung disease, that stuff (they still sound amazing though?? omgosh!!) but the fact that people are babying them?? erm.. gross! like for example, jungkook is an adult, he can make his own decisions now, thank you very much, but i see some people saying, “oh no!! my babyyy :( he’s vaping!! stop influencing him!!” gross. stop it, please. AND THE STALKERS????? WTF. LIKE ACTUALLY. your idols are not going to marry you!! i mean, if you’re lucky, they’ll find you attractive or wtvr, but still!! leave them be!!! let them live!!!! bro and bringing idols down for plastic surgery as if majority of idols/their favs have had it ;-; like please.. don’t even. and the hate train for wonyoung eating a strawberry with two hands is crazy 😭 i get that it was kinda weird, but please let her be.. it’s just a strawberry. anyways!! idc if you read this or not, but this was just my opinion on the kpop community atm! feel free to leave your opinions!! ^^

#yuyu’s randoms #yuyu’s rants #sick and tired of this shit rn 😭 #kpop #rants #rant post #ranting #complaining #kpop gg #kpop bg #controversies #kyuusberry

[keef-a-corn]

Rewatching TFP-

Giving you commentary of episode 6 -Masters and Students.

(I would talk about episodes 1 - 5, except I watched them yesterday and it made me realise that they stress me the hell out. Instead I’m going to cover episodes that don’t stress me out nearly as much)

Also I watch Transformers Prime on Stan (I’m pretty sure Stan is only in Australia, but it’s a streaming service and has every episode of TFP), so if any of these time stamps don’t match up, I’m sorry.

~~~~I begin now~~~~

Not saying much about the first part because it’s pretty much as seen.

*intro*

02:52 - scenes like these where it’s just Ratchet and Optimus cannot be viewed without at least one ‘this is proof their marriage certificate exists’ moments.

03:14 - and there it is. Optimus literally just when ‘mm’ and Ratchet immediately switched up his approach, the second approach worked significantly better.

03:44 - I like how you can tell Optimus has significantly larger strides when running compared to Ratchet. He started off further away, but arrived faster and closer.

04:00 - NOTHING BOILS MY BLOOD MORE THAN WHEN MIKO SAID

‘Whoopsie’ LIKE WHO THE FRAG ARE YOU?! WHERE TF DID MIKO GO?!

04:02 - ‘h-what… in the allspark’. Ratchet pronouncing ‘what’ that way is all the proof that’s needed to come to a conclusion that he’s old. Take that clip outta context and everyone witnessing it will know that he’s closer to his deathbed than a mid-life crisis.

04:15 - Not even close to being an accurate comparison.

04:21 - DAMN RIGHT, RATCHET! THEY ARE MAKING A MESS! MIKO BEING WEIRDLY MESSY WITH THE PAINT, BEE AND RAF TRIGGERING FIGHT OR FLIGHT, JACK AND ARCEE… Being weird- I mean.. for the bots, wouldn’t that be like trying to construct a body?

04:27 - then why did you leave it to the last minute, Raf?.

04:34 - Soooo close, Ratchet, but Bulkhead doesn’t need to know about the solar system to help Miko paint, same with Bee needing to know about Volcanoes to assist in constructing a model like that.

04:33 ~ 04:46 - Optimus just standing but like ‘just gonna let him talk it out’

~sorry, not much to say either~

05:55 - I wanna know what Bee’s saying. It seems interesting!

05:58 - Honestly Raf saying that clues me in even less.

06:05 - OPTIMUS’S HAND ON BEE’S SHOULDERRRRR! It’s so big! Aaaaaa

06:06 - Optimus calling Bee awesome.

Also Optimus confirming Bee’s very young.

06:54 - I really like how Peter pronounces ‘Bumblebee’ in Optimus’s voice. Just makes it sound so regal, then you remember it’s the word ‘Bumblebee’. + Optimus had no reason as to choose Bumblebee (aside from plot), Bulkhead was most likely not needed because we saw Miko’s project was pretty much complete and Jack was most likely the only one that would require assistance from Ratchet as Arcee was clearly no help.

07:07 - damn, those two strong as hell.

07:40 - Gotta keep his Bee safe. + he looks so concerned as he watches Optimus walk away.

07:49- Starscream had a whole choreographed dance for ‘rise and serve’

08:15 - I like Skyquake. What a waste. ALSO HE LOWERS HIS UPPER HALF TO TALK TO STARSCREAM, BUT TECHNICALLY HE IS BOWING!

08:55 - LMAO he really just pushed him away.

09:11 - Aww Bee gotta check on Optimusss

09:39 - Optimus just watching them like: 🧍

09:40 - SLAY, SKYQUAKE!

10:11 - Scraaaaaaaaap I love Soundwave’s designnn (I know he shows up earlier in the ep, it was just at this point that I truly stopped to appreciate them)

10:37 - Bee’s eyes are so interesting.

10:50 - Gotta protecc his faaather.

10:56 - Ayo- Bee- WTF?? He really just tapped into his inner insect abilities.

11:01 - Optimus immediately stepping in when Bumblebee was down *cri*

11:04 - He really just threw Bumblebee.

11:30 - Optimus leans in a bit closer when saying ‘vehicle mode’ to Bumblebee. He doesn’t want Skyquake to hear. And Bee kinda perks up as he realises Optimus is right.

11:52 - Ratchet’s inner goat

12:17 - That’s me doing all the work in science because the rest of my group is an idiot.

13:40 - It took me four rewatches to understand that Soundwave repeats ‘must bear witness’ as a command he’s making.

14:00 - of Agent Fowler didn’t show up in this episode, I bet that Optimus and Bee would’ve benefited greatly.

14:22 - Now that I think about it… odds are, Skyquake isn’t calling Bee ‘bug’ because his name is ‘Bumblebee’, instead it’s more likely he called Bee ‘bug’ because he considers him a small inconvenience that could simply be squished. I feel ashamed that it’s taken me this long.

14:39 - Bee’s face rises ever so slightly- he’s obviously happy, it’s just that I never noticed it.

14:58 - See? He’s distracting the bots and giving Skyquake a vehicle mode.

16:33 - Starscream landing so nicely gives me life.

16:58 - he touched da boob.

17:18 - to disagree~ I’m sorry-

18:34 - Oh that must’ve hurt-

18:39 - Father watches son fly off on plane.

18:41 - Father immediately calls in only air support to retrieve son.

18:53 - Bee showing off his surfer skills, but also that he’s smart by committing mid air murder.

19:01 - whoever chose for Bee to make that sound when plummeting to his death, thank you. You couldn’t have chosen a more perfectly silly sound for this very dangerous situation./g

19:04 - yeas, it is, Fowler, so why are you waiting?

19:12 - Bee showing off perfect coordination abilities

19:40 - Damn- Bee teleports now-

19:56 - Optimus condemning the strategy before praising the performance is very smart. I will not explain further

20:08 - I DON’T CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS, TO ME, OPTIMUS SMILED WHEN RATCHET GOT EXCITED.

20:49 - if there’s a remote, why does the volcano have buttons?

21:08 - Optimus engages with a joke.. why does no one mention this?!

M’kay, those were my thoughts.

Lemme know if you thought differently/disagree with my points/have more to add.

I like hearing people’s perspectives.

#transformers #transformers prime #masters and students #episode 6 #season 1 #ratchet x optimus #that’s mentioned #tfp bumblebee #tfp optimus prime #tfp optimus #tfp starscream #tfp soundwave #okay #I’m gonna use it #maccadam #frag I did it #weirdly stressed about a tag #help?? #KWTFP #Transformers Prime Notes #Transformers notes #tfp #Keef watches TFP

[pawzels-artbin]

Ight i'm gonna go ahead and dump my CQ OCs here real quick- hope you guys like reading long ass paragraphs because hoo boy did i yap with this one (may post art later; still being revised <3)

𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚

[art missing]

Dark, rusty red. 

Long ass hair that goes to their toes. 

Likes trees. Nature. Mmm yeees gimme that fresh air 

Hates being cold

Feels the urge to take care of things she thinks are small and helpless 

Swamp dwelling plant mom. Rises out of the water lady of the lake style when someone comes to her swamp to speak to her lmao

Her carapace is odd. When in the sun or in a hot area her body radiates more heat that it should take in. 

Voiceclaim: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/5ul_oVObONA 

𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚 (𝐏𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦)

[art missing]

Based HEAVILY on Ramiel from Evangelion. GOD I’m such a nerd. 

Rearranges her body parts, and can make them smaller or bigger to some extent to suit her attack or defense style. Reflects an insanely intense and hot light she produces off of them, then concentrates it into a beam that she can fire directly at an opponent. Unfortunately despite her terrifying power, her attacks eat up large amounts of hemolymph, meaning she can only battle for 12 minutes at most if she conserves her energy and 5 minutes if she uses more powerful attacks. 

Her beams can (theoretically) melt through mountains. (Technically if she did this she’d expend almost all her hemolymph in one go and die though lmfao, talk about a one-trick pony) 

She does not usually speak in her puppet form, nor produce any noise. She can establish weak, fragile psychological contact with people. Sometimes when mortally wounded she will let out a deafening screech.  The mimes have only ever heard this sound once or twice. 

Her body parts can move around to protect her carapace, but usually can’t completely cover her. She always has a weak spot somewhere. She usually is fast enough to cover it though. 

Her attack power is boosted in hot and bright locations. 

Her attack power is weakened at night and in misty, cold areas. 

They have no discernible head in their puppet form, though they can manifest various body parts: 

She has a single eye with three massive eyelashes on the top and bottom that can see 180 degrees around her. This is a permanent and unchangeable feature of her puppet form. 

Sometimes she can manifest in a pair of disembodied jaws (think something like a beartrap) that can bite. 

When mortally wounded, she will make her body parts as large as possible and tries to put them together in a manner that will shield as much as her body allows while arranging them in a fashion that deflects as much damage as possible and makes it harder to do close range damage. If near a large open area with dirt, they will burrow their exposed weak spot into the ground. 

Voiceclaim: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1OB-MvZBAiU 

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐚

Not much rn, she just likes lamps and sleeping even though she doesn't really need to

Based on a Venezuelan poodle moth

She is in a similar place on the color spectrum to Atrox and therefore is somewhat aware of things to come, albeit to a lesser extent.

Yeah uh she is. Uh a lot more mature than she looks lol

Voiceclaim: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JrvMNLJJpWU

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐚 (𝐏𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦)

[art missing]

Projectiles will just get trapped in her fluff. 

Her wingbeats stir up breezes when she flies by virtue of just how large she is. 

When in flight she tucks her legs in and folds them close together. She does the same for her antennae to make her more aerodynamic. She can also float. 

She can sleep while flying or floating, sometimes remaining motionless for hours floating in a warm spot under the sun. 

She is probably the most peaceful puppet form of all my OCs tbh. No fighting, just eeber deebers

Nothing super special atm.

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤𝐚𝐡

Bad relationship with Laurus and by extension Holly

Big believer in being your true self

Meme and YTP references. Will laugh if you say "fresh avocado" or "I wonder what's for dinner"

Hair is fluffy n soft

Hates. Being yelled at

Hot topic dweller

Yes her belts are either stolen or yoinks from abandoned places she has scavenged from lmao

"iS tHaT (insert Pokemon game here)" (super exaggerated :0 face)

Afraid of disappointing people close to her and making them mad

Frigus doesn't really like her (she has a bad habit of infantilizing him and babying him since she thinks he's the cutest thing ever and ends up fawning over him to an overbearing degree)

Loves partying and nightlife but ironically is the type of person to drink apple juice instead of booze (and somehow act drunk off it), say "frick", and tell people why vaping is bad for you

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤𝐚𝐡 (𝐏𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦)

She glows and flickers like a neon sign-glowstick and can show patterns on her body like an LED display. She usually just changes through the colors of the rainbow though. Like one of those gaming PCs. 

Loud and energetic as ever. Still friendly af in puppet form- will talk to you and hang out. Kinda like a neon scene kid bat version of Clifford the Big Red Dog.

Vomits up neon rainbow glowstick fluid. Is it hemolymph? Who knows! 

Drools acid and can and will inject it into your bloodstream with an efficiently delivered bite (tfw someone wont stop fucking w you and you """accidentally""" increase the pH in their blood to fatal levels :3). 

Voiceclaim (both mime and puppet form): https://youtu.be/HRQsMCk1PpI?si=o-haxW7XpXXFO-m6

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲 (incomplete!)

[art missing]

If insanity were measured with a thermometer, Misery would be fever pitch. Wired, beset with an endless hunger that only gets worse when they host, endowed with an unholy amount of stamina, and hyperviolent, she’s at best an annoyance and at worst a living chainsaw. 

Sometimes, he'll be laughing hysterically, chasing after a meal and wallowing in madness. Other times he'll bawl hysterically or have outbursts of wrath. His emotions are so extreme, they blur together sometimes.

Without moving and using up their energy (regardless of whether they're hungry or not), they'll find themselves stressed out (kind of like Vigoroth from Pokemon, i guess).

When they're on a rampage, Misery can't be stopped (sort of)! They're one hell of a biter. they've also got razor-sharp claws on them, so they've got no problem tearing through a carapace or shredding down a door or two to catch you!

Their brain will solely run on adrenaline and instinct, so consequences are(n't) a problem for them.

Misery isn’t stupid- however, his impulsivity is his downfall. In the end his hunger and boredom are what drive him and almost all of his actions. They're in a constant cycle of madness and sobriety.

They’re willing to try their best to be good- of course they’ll try to be good, whatever the hell that means! They’ll try until their frenzied hunger consumes them once more. :)

Voiceclaim: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dd9GxCqCGnU

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲 (𝐏𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦) (incomplete!)

[art missing]

[desc missing]

Voiceclaim: [missing]

#oc rambling #colorquest #pawzel's writing #pawzel's art

[monstersinthecosmos]

May I ask you at what point it's clear Anne wrote/decided that Armand was physically a teenager? He doesn't seem to be written specifically as one during IWTV (especially) or even QOTD -- possibly why he's portrayed as a grown man in the early comic books and in the 1994 film?

Okay hahah full disclosure I’m writing this at work instead of working and I don’t have books with me to pull quotes so use your imagination or if anyone wants to jump in with some quotes please feel free!

So in IWTV he’s just described as a young man, and Louis doesn’t go crazy telling us too much about what he looks like. I have a few thoughts about this, and about how it influenced the movie and other incarnations of Armand:

Louis has spent most of his vampire life with a grown woman who looks like a 5 year old, so BIG FUCKIN DEAL LOL, wow ur 17? Get in line.

The movie specifically made him older & more spooky old world looking for the visual contrast, also to sidestep Louis’s rebound love interests both being children/young.

I don’t think we should get too nitpicky about the comic books like let’s, just. Lmao. Let’s leave that one.

By the time he shows up in TVL is when he goes from being described as “young man” to “young boy”.

I lied I do have this one quote:

This was a boy, as I had said, and he had a head of long curly hair, and he walked very straight and very simply through the silvery light and into the church. He hesitated for a moment. And by the tilt of the head, it seemed he was looking up. And then he came on through the nave and towards us, his feet making not the faintest sound on the stones. He moved into the glow of the candles on the side altar. His clothes were black velvet, once beautiful, and now eaten away by time, and crusted with dirt. But his face was shining white, and perfect, the countenance of a god it seemed, a Cupid out of Caravaggio, seductive yet ethereal, with auburn hair and dark brown eyes.

So there’s like, 12 years or whatever that she took between books and that gives her a lot of time to let her mental image and idea of the character to evolve, but also just her writing style is so different. I remember Anne saying that she also had Stella from The Tales of Hoffmann in mind when she wrote Armand, so he evolved from “ageless & androgynous” to “gleaming manikin of a young boy” !

For a visual reference, this is Moira Shearer as Stella, which Anne said was Armand in her mind:

And this is the painting Lestat mentioned:

But I think we are all aware of the tonal shift phenomenon between IWTV & TVL where IWTV is this like, heavy melancholy Gothic tome and then Lestat just shows up and fucking wrecks the place.  I don’t recall ever hearing her talk about this aspect of Armand and I don’t know if she had it in her mind the whole time, even if Louis didn’t take the time to describe it in detail the way Lestat does. I’d love to know how much of this was in her mind the whole time and if anyone has clues please let us know!!!!!!!

TLDR to answer your question, it’s ambiguous in IWTV and obvious in TVL.

HOWEVER.

I have this crack theory lmfao. !!!!!!!!!! About how Prince Alexi in The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty is also an auburn haired teenager, and how it was written in between the two VC books.

I mean like. Anne can say anyone has auburn hair but it’s just such a staple for Armand 2 ICONIC so how are you NOT gonna wonder about it when she’s writing BDSM porn? Idk.

There’s really no evidence for this except me with my Charlie Day board but sometimes I wonder if that break between books influenced her idea of him at all, and what impact it had on her prose for when she returned to Lestat, and I always wonder if they’re connected at all. IT JUST SEEMS SUSPICIOUS TO ME.

Like I mean. I think, there’s lots of teenagers in her books, so maybe this isn’t really much of a coincidence. But. I must wonder!

#vampire chronicles #armand #interview with the vampire #the vampire lestat #the claiming of sleeping beauty #anne rice #tvl quotes #vc quotes #moira shearer

[firstdivisiongirl]

Hello can I have a one piece matchup, please? :3

Personality:

I am pretty social however I prefer to spend time alone! I care about others a lot… To an unhealthy amount honestly but Im working on it! I love to help others and make them smile, but I do wish I would get something for being so nice in return, yeah it might sounds greedy but I want to be appreciated! And get something nice haha, like just a compliement or something, when my helping and kindess gets unnoticed I might get upset because of how much tired I am and I just want to be a appreciated like I said before 😭 I wanted to be noticed and not ignored! I care too much what others feel and think and its tiring, I just want to be selfish sometimes and care about myself even if its sounds mean.

People call me funny! Well it all depends because everyone has different sense of humor! But I am most of the time unserious and I love to joke around, serious situations are stressful so I prefer to be joyfull, but I do like talking about serious topics (sometimes) Like I said before I love to make people smile and laugh with my jokes and overall with make them happy with presence. Its my job to make others happy <3

My humor is definitely not for everyone, its mostly humor of a 12 y/o kid which can be annoying to some people lmao (sometimes its funny how people are annoyed by it) and some other things depends on how I feel. When it comes to annoyence I also like to annoy people <3 its so fun! But I never want to make them really feel bad! Often I act like an asshole but this is just for jokes! (but sometimes I wanna be a real asshole lmao) Like I said I dont want them to actually feel bad, if I do, I will feel very guilty! When it comes to it I apologize A LOT, I apologize so much that it might too annoying but I always feel a sense of guilt inside of me. I'm also VERY sensitve and worry about everything. Ah and I'm pretty dumb and I am not trying to insult myself I am just silly hehe and I'm okay with that. Oh and Im clumsy 😭😭

Likes/Dislikes:

I LOVE LOVE horror and scary things, I can't imagine my life without it, its just a such interesting genre that makes me happy and intrigued! I adore horror games and I'm mostly interested in them, however most of the time I am scared of playing them so I just watch gameplays and stuff like that haha. You can say I am obssesed with horror! (its funny because its easy to scare me haha)

I love to eat food <3 especially sweet things

I also love cute things! Plushies, pink, clothes and other cute things! I just love it so much <3

I like games very much (I suck at them), art, anime, drawing and psychology! When it comes to music I love energetic ones!

I dislike slow music but there can be some exceptions.

I dislike cooking (I love when someone knows to cook however I suck at it

Appearance:

Around 156 cm height

Chubby

brown eyes

chin length hair with bangs

round glasses

Have a nice day/night!

Hi there! Thank you for the request. I’m going to keep this intro short. Let’s get into it!

You Got…

Shanks!

He may seem oblivious, but the people he really cares about he pays so much attention to. So he would pay attention and appreciate all you do.

You have Lucky Roux make you the best food, especially sweet things.

He would love your humor. He would enjoy it and never take offense to anything.

I think he would enjoy a good horror movie. Movie dates are yes.

Play lots of games with you. He’d probably let you win because he’s a sweetheart.

He would buy you a plushie on every island. I hope you enjoy!!

#one piece #first division girl #one piece matchups #one piece matchup #op matchup #op matchups

[fictionalreads]

9-1-1 Season 6 Episode 12

Bobby

I don’t think he meant literally there Bobby.

Please be careful Bobby. Don’t come off as a creep.

So….where did he die?

No you can’t give me that and then expect me to let it go.

Yeah thanks Athena.

LMAO It won’t be a long engagement Wendell

Tamara. Tell me what you know.

THOSE WERE WENDELLS WORDS They drugged her.

Again. Be careful Bobby. This doesn’t seem like the smart move.

Damn Bobby.

Bobby I hate to say it, but maybe get her some help first.

Oh shit Bobby. Lucky you have Athena as your wife.

Now how would she know that info if she was an innocent victim? 😒

SEE?! TOO PERFECT

YEAH THOSE BITCHES DONT KNOW WHAT HIT THEM TEAM BATHENA FOR THE WIN

Oh they are terrible people. Emotional abusers. 🤬

No Wendell no!

Oh fuck he overdosed. They didn’t think to get him Narcan?

I’m glad Bobby got closure.

I wanna see Wendell meet Athena.

Oh I’m glad Tamara is okay.

Buck

Buck she’s gonna be overprotective. You died. Shit was scary.

Buck looks hella good tonight. That facial hair, those muscles….😍🤤😏

You can move on cause you didn’t have to experience watching you be dead/in a coma.

I wanna see his couch.

Who’s at the door now?

Is that just his old couch?

They were terrified about you Buck give them a break.

I thought he was gonna say he felt good before the clots.

Why is Conner there?

Conner sounds weird. What’s happening on the baby front?

HE ENDED UP AT EDDIES

And he immediately knocks out on Eddie’s couch after being uncomfortable on his own couch. IM GOING FERAL

NOW THEYRE TALKING ABOUT THE SHOOTING

Eddie please. You reached for him.

….Buck looking for something wrong. Something is really wrong this time.

Oh no. We got his memory of the night? Two episodes after it happened? That seems ominous.

Oh no. Not the checklist. Not checking that it’s night, and texting Bobby after to make sure he’s okay 😭

Miscellaneous

Oh we’re starting with a flashback.

This is gonna be a dark episode. I really wanted light this week.

I take it back. I’m good with this episode. It’s great. A bunch of buddie that I wasn’t expecting.

Damn both of them are selfish and ruthless. They’ll throw each other under the bus instead of just shutting up and having each other’s backs. Crazy.

APRIL 10TH?! WHAT THE FUCK?! That’s some bullshit.

#9 1 1 on fox #bobby nash #eddie diaz #howard chimney han #hen wilson #evan buck buckley #athena grant nash #maddie buckley #Conner #tamara #Wendell #buddie

[miru667]

hi there, miru ! it’s surely been awhile since i’ve visited your blog , and i was always shy to directly interact with you, but this time, i want to say a lot of things, and i hope you’ll find some time to read.

i remember how i stumbled across your account when i was 8 or so, around the time when you just started posting about the lorax and the fandom was growing up. at first, i simply checked your blog out of boredom as a kid since you were the only person i followed here, but later on, i really got interested and often would go back home from school and run to read your new posts, no matter what was it, just because i liked them, and i guess my little mind wanted to explore more about the fandom in general. (: i grew up wishing i was as “cool” as you, and really wanted to talk to you, but guess the unknownness made me nervous enough so i always brushed it off. and no matter how cheesy it sounds ,just going through your blog at least once a day helped me with most of my sad days. you were a huge affect to my childhood, and going through your page again after so long made me feel such a bittersweet nostalgia , i nearly cried catching up with things haha. you were the reason i found out about the lorax in general and joined the fandom , as well as inspired me to try drawing ( i remember using your art as a base when i was 12 ,,, but shhh, let’s keep it a secret (; )

it’s been so long since then, and sometimes it’s hard to believe how much i’ve grown up, as well as you did too. i’ll never forget these days when being a young kid i would try to redraw your onceler fan art , or make a small silly slideshows with your drawings to some goofy songs, LMAO. (i still have them, by the way… eugh. cringeee) and getting to spend my growing up surrounded by such an amazing fandom and amazing people like you has truly built me up as a person, and i couldn’t be more grateful i’ve found out about you back then, because i don’t know who i would be right now if i never did. thank you so much miru, keep going, be happy, and no matter how time passes by , you’ll always be one of my biggest inspirations, and i’ll continue looking up to you. <3

•

now , ending the cheesy paragraph above, i’m a little curious about some things, feel free not to answer them if you’re uncomfortable! i’m not pressuring you.

1 ; i’ll start off with a simple one. how are you doing, how’s life in general? (:

2 ; did you know that your small onceler height headcannon you’ve made back in 2013 is showing up on google as an actual height of his , making a lot of people (especially on tik tok. boy, they’re going feral over that fact…) believe it’s his canon height ? they’re actually saying it’s his actual confirmed height and etc. , so i was always wondering how does it feel to have your headcannon being considered by the whole onceler fandom as canon, haha. :D

3 ; speaking about tik tok, you mentioned you don’t have it at all. why don’t you try to get it, and post your art in there? trust me, a lot of people absolutely adore your work in here and considering the fact onceler fandom is apparently biggering again , that could be a nice idea , since personally i think you’re really underrated and deserve some more recognition (:

4 ; what’s your actual opinion on oncest? because honestly , i remember how people drooled over this ship to death back in 10s, however i was never really fond of it and,, you know what i meaannn, it simply didn’t feel right for me at all. (,: did you immediately start liking it since you have some art about it , and what are your thoughts about it now ?

5 ; how old were you when you joined the whole lorax fandom?

6; you obviously have a lot of good memories with the Onceler fandom , as i do too, but there is also some bad memories for me, and some that i wish i could completely erase from my mind haha. how is it for you? like, were there perhaps some situations that happened to you in the fandom that make you shiver in a pleasedon’tremindme way? i’d love to listen if there is some!

7 ; and , the last one. i literally have been a huge fan of your for awhile now , and i was wondering if you’d ever want to maybe ,, talk, y’know? and become friends , perhaps? ;;;;; i feel like i’m being too pushy atp ,but i’m still a little nervous so i’m sorry if i act weird,, (,: but either way, remember you’re amazing, and i hope you have a good day/night !!

thank you for reading my non-sense to the end, lol. i hope i didn’t take off much time <33

Omg,,,Q_Q?? Thank you for sending this message, I wouldn't have known otherwise that I've made such an impact on someone's life, like...it's truly humbling. You were 8?? 😭 And I was really the only blog you followed?? 😭 Back then I did not think about how others might've been using my blog; I myself had always been the one looking up to others, and here you were all that time looking up to me...I guess it's really magical, the way we don't know who in the world might be thinking about us. I hope you're doing well. Your slideshows are not cringe. Or rather, you were cringe and free, and I think that's wonderful.

For your questions then:

I guess I'm doing okay. I have friends who care about me, and I'm able to support myself with my job, so with those two things alone, I'm already very lucky.

If you mean this post: [link] I didn't make this headcanon! As you can see on the post, tumblr user torikabori made it, and I simply reblogged it. I think there's been a few fandom headcanons that have mistakenly been posted on wikis and tvtropes as canon, and I really wish it didn't happen that way, because I don't like misinformation being spread. I've said this before but if it's not in the Lorax DVD, or in any official interviews, or in any concept art, then it's NOT canon. Do not trust google, wiki, tvtropes, or word of mouth.

I,,, reallllllyyyy don't see myself getting into tiktok ;w; Having to be a slave to algorithms and numbers really turns me off, and I can barely keep up with posting on social media anymore. I've almost completely abandoned my instagram, and I'm half a year behind in posting my art to tumblr haha. So I wouldn't be able to keep up with tiktok anyway. Thank you for thinking I deserve more recognition though! 🥺

I think in the early years of the fandom I drew it because it was popular, but since then I've been more true to myself and I only draw what my heart desires now. So now I can say that I've never shipped oncest, though I've shipped onceler askblogs together before. And I'll always be a fan of 7212, though that's not the classic oncest we're referring to here. But I still support whoever does ship it, I think that's totally cool!

I was a young adult!

You are not alone, so many of us from 2012 have gone through bad times in the fandom at least once. For me specifically, it's been 11 years that I've been here, so do you think I could have avoided every single possible bad situation? ;) I won't be sharing any stories, but the onceler fandom would not be what it is today without both the good AND bad, I guarantee you that.

You can feel free to message me anytime you like! I'm not much of a talker since I'm often busy, and I rarely ever message first, but I'll always be courteous to anyone who messages me. As for friendship, I think it should just happen naturally, if it happens!

#miruask #alicecaaaaat #thank you again for this sweet message!!! #okay wait but what were you doing on tumblr when you were 8 ksdjhgjkd AHHHHHH #i didn't even go on the internet until i was 13 it truly is a different world now #i didn't have any social media until i was 17 or 18 #oncelersapologist