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#bc Right will also never wear green
moeblob · 2 months
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Happy birthday to my raccoon son, Right! Who is, once again, the guy on the left. (why do I never draw him on the right of the picture? We may never know. but it does put him on the right of who he's talking to so he's the right hand man - it works out somehow.)
For his bday he gets his love interest to cuss in his presence cause it's very funny to him and makes him happy to be a bad influence. Good job, Brent. You can say a bad word and make the love of your life happy.
For fun I did the lil DnD AU since cleric!Right is still fun to draw and I never actually drew bard!Brent except for a bust shot.
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disastersteps · 2 months
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"well. everyone knew who i am. might as well be harbinger all the way." or known as... anita's revelations look >:3c
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months
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ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..
how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)
ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol
have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Our Remains
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Pairing: John Price x F!Reader
Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end
A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.
You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!
But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying. 
Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.
Just an overwhelming sense of dread.
The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer. 
You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm. 
The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant. 
In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines. 
John’s icon dims. 
You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to. 
He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.
“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.
God, you loved him so much.
Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you. 
He tried to call as often as he could. 
John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.
“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down. 
You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic. 
“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.” 
“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?” 
“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”
Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.
Jesus, this was actually happening. 
You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind. 
“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?” 
The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work. 
Above all, he knew when something was up with you.
“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”
Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”
The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.
“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth. 
The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.
Back at the house, your face scrunches together. 
Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad? 
John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears. 
“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.” 
…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted? 
“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”
The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him. 
“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”
He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind. 
There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with. 
John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present. 
“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”
“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…” 
Your voice quivers.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear. 
You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”
John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?” 
Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring. 
From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts. 
You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor. 
“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”
John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs. 
“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.” 
You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin. 
“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.
“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”
Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.
“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing. 
“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?” 
A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation. 
“I promise, John.”
“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”
Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.” 
The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords. 
He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.” 
“I’ll be waiting.” 
When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else. 
The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences. 
Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.
John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.
All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips. 
It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends. 
“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute. 
Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later. 
John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.
The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.
“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?” 
Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?” 
The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name. 
He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed. 
Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click. 
But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.
“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms. 
His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat. 
John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening. 
Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh. 
He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.
“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.” 
You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod. 
“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”
Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.” 
But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn��t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room. 
Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…
“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.” 
Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight. 
You steel yourself and raise the box. 
“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair. 
He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully. 
Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm. 
“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead. 
You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders. 
“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed. 
What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….
Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship. 
John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!” 
Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly. 
“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.” 
It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit. 
Why isn’t he saying anything? 
John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it. 
Pregnant. 
His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly. 
Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts. 
“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss. 
John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold. 
“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”
Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again. 
“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.” 
He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.” 
You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.
“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”
“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.” 
Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”
His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.
You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.
“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.” 
The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second. 
“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.” 
While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child. 
A family that you both had made.
John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.” 
Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.” 
There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave. 
What remains behind, you ask? Simple.
White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.
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violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months
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hii, I wish to request a Willy Wonka x reader 😭🙏 where reader doesn’t like chocolate at all because it’s too cloying, so Wonka tries to make the right candy (or chocolate) to give it to the reader at Christmas Eve (he wanted to gave reader a small gift before Christmas day, like a form of confessing his feelings to the reader). And reader also prepares a small gift to Wonka bc they also want to confess their feelings to him
Reader can be gender neutral, or however you want
English isn’t my first language so sorry any grammar mistakes, also sorry if I didn’t explain myself well
have a good day and thanks for reading 😭🫶💐
The Bittersweet Gift of Love [W. W]
Willy Wonka x gn!reader
word count: 1.8k
note: don't worry! English is not my first language either. I have to admit that writing with neutral readers is always a challenge for me because I translate my texts directly, but I think this time it's a decent thing. I hope you like it!!
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
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What could a chocolatier give to a person who didn't like chocolate? That was the question Willy had been asking himself for the past few weeks.
You hadn't specifically said that you didn't like chocolate, rather it was a matter of not liking the excessively sweet or sticky taste that some had. That is, most of the chocolates he made.
“Maybe it's just that you haven't found the right flavor,” he had told you once, while the two of you were talking.
And he was quite convinced of that, even thinking that if he managed to make something special for you maybe he would earn some affection from you. It would be as if he gave you a certain part of himself, so that you could make it yours.
So it was that Wonka, after reflecting a lot, decided to try all kinds of combinations until he found one good enough to satisfy you. Christmas was approaching and he believed that the occasion would be perfect not only to give you the present, but also to take an important step for which he had not yet had the courage: he wanted to confess his feelings for you.
The man didn't know much about love, however, he knew that he liked you a lot and he wanted you to know it. It was just that he was pretty nervous about it and he hoped everything would turn out as perfect as possible, after all, you deserved it.
Christmas Eve came when he was least expecting it and then it was time to dress in shades of green and red to attend the party that the Smith family would throw, as a thank-you to everyone after Dorothy had heard what the entire group did for help Noodle when she needed it most.
Willy put a lot of effort into buying, with some of the few coins he had left, a cute outfit appropriate to the occasion that he combined with his characteristic coat. When he was in front of the library door he felt the little purple box in his hands extremely heavy and he thought it would be a better idea to put it in his pocket, or else you would realize ahead of time the surprise he had for you.
“Mr. Wonka,” Dorothy greeted, as she opened the door “Come in, come in. It's freezing outside”
“Good night, Mrs. Smith,” he murmured cordially, removing his hat and placing it on a rack in the entryway. Apparently he was the last to arrive, since everyone else was already talking happily in the room.
Of course his eyes went directly to you, who was wearing a green sweater that highlighted your beautiful skin tone and you already had a huge smile on your pink lips from the cold.
“It's good to see you, Mr. Wonka,” said Abacus, being the first to speak “Sit over here.”
He smiled internally at the good fortune that the place the man had left him was right next to you and when you gave him a look, he felt himself blush.
“Hi,” he murmured shyly.
"Hello! I'm so glad you could come."
“I would never miss it,” he responded smilingly. His knees collided with yours and suddenly your warmth seemed to invade him as well, perhaps because of the closeness, but also because of the overflowing love he felt for you “How are you?”
With this question you began a pleasant and private conversation, which developed between close whispers and giggles that made him increasingly nervous. The others didn't mind too much that you didn't participate in the general talks, as they knew that certain unresolved matters probably needed time.
You ate the delicious dinner that the family had prepared, you drank punch, you sang some Christmas carols and when the night had advanced enough you returned to your previous place, although now with fewer people around.
“This is so nice, I love Christmas. The atmosphere is always so homely and warm” you said, with your eyes resting on the simple tree that adorned the room.
It was almost midnight and the others were in the kitchen sorting through some of the cookies that Noodle had put there an hour ago, which only left you and the chocolatier in the living room.
“I guess I believe you, your eyes are literally shining now,” he said happily. He felt like sliding his hand into yours and this time, steeling himself, he didn't hold back. You flinched slightly when you felt that.
“What are you doing?”
“I have something for you,” he breathed, feeling strangely excited by what he was about to do “It's a gift.”
“Oh, Willy,” you responded, a bit incredulously, as you bent down to grab something from your bag on the floor. “I have something for you, too.”
He chuckled when he saw the box lined with bright red and a purple bow decorating it, since it was a pleasant coincidence that you had also prepared something for him.
“But don't tell anyone, because he didn't bring gifts for the others,” you added, quietly, and then he helped you up, still holding onto your hand.
"Come with me"
He led you to an empty room and he closed the door behind you, hoping he only needed enough minutes to not raise suspicions among the rest of the guests. You were nervously holding the gift, with both hands now that he had let go of you.
“Okay, listen. I wanted to do something special for you today,” he began to explain, as he pulled the box out of his pocket. “And I also added, uh… a note. You don't have to read it now or anything, but it says something in it that I want you to know."
“You're starting to scare me,” you stammered, obviously nervous. Willy was going to ask what you meant until he saw you take a small envelope out of your pocket, which you placed on the red paper. “Because I have the same thing for you.”
He stumbled a little at the second coincidence of the night and he wondered what your note could be about. He knew that he had written a little poem confessing how he felt about you, but... what if you were just wishing him a Merry Christmas? He was going to look like a complete fool.
“You can read mine in a more… private place if you feel comfortable. Maybe alone,” he suggested, though he knew it was more for his comfort than yours.
“Huh, how about we just open the gifts and leave the notes for later? I wouldn't want you to read mine now either” you murmured, just as shy as him.
Willy agreed and you extended your gift in his direction, hinting that he would be the first to open. He undid the bow, carefully, and then opened the box, revealing a beautiful scarf.
“Wow, I…”
"Do you like it? I made it myself”
“I don't believe you,” he said immediately, looking even more surprised. “It's beautiful, I really love it. Thank you so much"
He wasted no time and placed the garment around his neck. Curiously, it matched the rest of his outfit.
"It looks pretty"
“Mine is also a gift made by me. Feel free to tell me if you don’t like it, I… I’ll understand, okay?” you looked a little confused at that and then he took out the piece of chocolate, carefully placed inside the box “I know you don't like chocolate, but I don't think anyone should live without consuming such a great delicacy. So I made you this, because it doesn't have those things that you don't like. It's... different, but I hope you like it”
With some shyness he offered you the sweet and you put it in your mouth, under his watchful eye during the process. You tasted what he had offered you: it was a little bitter, but not in that way that makes your head hurt or leaves a bad taste on your palate, but with just the right touch. It was firm and didn't melt in your mouth, but decent enough to chew on. And finally, it had a touch of something indecipherable to you, but that gave it a certain exotic flavor that was pleasant to your senses.
He, without knowing everything you were experiencing, kept looking at you because he wanted to analyze your reaction to know what you really thought, and luckily your reaction showed agreement with what your chocolate lips said:
“It is the best chocolate I have ever tasted”
Willy felt that like the greatest compliment in the world and he couldn't help a smile crossing his face, satisfied with himself for having achieved his goal, but above all for seeing the happy expression on your face.
“You will never have to eat chocolates you don't like again, I have a jar full of these just for you. They will even bear your name."
It was inevitable not to take a step towards him to hug him and the boy, although at first he seemed surprised, soon responded to you.
“No one had ever done anything like this for me. I appreciate it a lot"
“Well, it's my Christmas gift. I wanted it to be something special,” he confessed, feeling his heart beating in time with yours “Merry Christmas, Y/N”
“Merry Christmas, Willy,” you said. The note in his hand felt extremely heavy and he was eager to read it, but he knew he would have to wait a while.
Suddenly you heard Noodle calling your names and you got out of there before anyone else noticed your absence, which worked because the girl was walking around the hallway when you were closing the door.
“It's going to be midnight, come here,” she said and you obeyed.
Dorothy revealed that she had a small present for each person and you began to look under the tree, eager to find out what would be in those little boxes. It wasn't something very ostentatious, but you were grateful anyway.
So, when no one was looking, you ran to the bathroom to finally read whatever he had written to you, hoping it wasn't as embarrassing as the confession you had made. You were stunned to learn the content and for a moment you feared you were dreaming, but you weren't.
When you left you knew well what your intentions were and your heart stopped for a moment when you noticed that Willy was nowhere to be seen, until Lottie told you that she had seen him heading to the kitchen. You rushed over and when you opened the door you noticed that he was about to do the same, with a bright expression on his face.
A second later he had already pulled you inside and without saying another word, he kissed you.
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sugar-omi · 2 months
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I hate myself for thinking this but, what if MC finds out she’s pregnant and the first thing in her mind is that she’s fucking up Cove’s future. So instead of telling him she just breaks up with him and shuts herself away from him so he can’t convince her that they’ll work it out. Now Cove has no clue why the love of his life just broke his poor heart. Skip to five years later, Cove comes back to surprise visit his dad but surprise there’s MC, Cliff and a little five year old boy that looks way too much like Cove. Like I’m talking copy and paste that’s a little Cove
oh my fucking god.... i. pls i have some thoughts but also OUCH. BIG OUCH
mmm i'm not gonna make a full fic/detailed post... maybe later if we're all itching for some angst or i'm up for causing more heart ache n then i am very much open to expanding on this (already thinking abt cove getting to know his son.... omfg my heart HURTS)
but i wonder how MC "gets away" (for lack 'a better words) with not telling cove about the kid.
because i can tell you right now, cliff and kyra can't know about it and keep it a secret. not for 5 years at least.
so does she beg everyone in her family to keep it a secret? i think that's the best bet. moms would really prefer Not to keep it a secret, but they also can't force you to tell cove...
but i also don't see them letting 5 years without cove at least knowing, go by either... they'd try to keep the secret, but seeing cove's sad face would break them quickly, if not instantly.
also your friends!!! god, they can not keep a secrete to save their life, especially that big. so you can tell them, but expect the news to find its way back to cove in about.. mmm... 4 hours? so yeah....
anyway!!! lets say that your family kept the secret...
i think your son would eventually start asking about his dad. he sees how you and your family react to him, hears all the mumbling about how he looks so much like... "cove"? when you think he's in the other room.
and he sees how sometimes you look sad and how you slowly and tenderly run your fingers through his hair. and how sometimes you tell him "yknow, daddy has hair just like yours."
and when he asks why you're sad, if you respond with something along the lines of "you look just like your dad, thats all."
or even if you say that in response when he asks what his dad looks like (if you haven't shown him pictures), or if he overhears you saying he looks like this "cove" guy
you notice he starts looking at himself more often... maybe even asking, "does daddy have green hair like mine?" "are his eyes really blue, just like mine?" "does he wear glasses too?" and still in awe that he and this man he's never met, but already seems to adore him (as much as a toddler can adore someone they don't know), share the same features.
and if you show him pictures of cove, which i hope you do, but if you don't, don't worry because your son will probably realize "he has green hair like me!!!!" and he'd either run up to enthuse about it or run up to ask him if he's his daddy bc they have the same hair color... or just call him daddy n if anyone tries to argue about it, wdym?! they have the same hair color, what more do you need?!
so hopefully, cove is the only man with specifically seafoam green hair. otherwise, you're shitting yourself every time your son runs off to meet his green-haired-brethern
anyway. I think all your sons questions, and seeing pictures, knowing that he shares so many traits with cove, and seeing you miss him.
oh god, seeing you sad would make him insist so so much on seeing cove.
"if we meet daddy, will you be happy again?"
also can't believe I almost forgot.. your son being sad about not having a dad, and being jealous of other kids for spending time with their dad, etc.
he'd ask you questions about why he doesn't have a dad, n if he does. why isn't he around? and a real heartbreaker.. does daddy hate him? does he not love him? is that why he isn't here?
so I guess that means it's time to go back to sunset bird! and finally explain why you moved away n never looked back, and why you don't talk to anyone but your parents from back then...
now I won't get into everything right now (im a fuckin liar. I can feel a tangent coming on)
but I wanna talk abt how cove would feel, just a bit, and how I think your future with him would look...
I think at first, he'd be really shocked, seeing this carbon copy of his much younger self. the only thing telling him that his 4-5 year old self didn't jump out of one of his many childhood pictures,
is any birthmarks or beauty marks that maybe you have, or the boys hair being curlier than his, or his skin tone, or maybe he has your nose. whatever it is, he knows he's looking at the imperfect combination of you and him.
(cove's heart is beating outta his chest right now, n you're lucky he only stumbles instead of fainting, because this really is a shock... but that deeper part inside of him, that egotistical, primal almost, part of his heart swells up at the thought, the reality. that his son looks mostly, if not entirely like him.)
but after shock, he's sad. I think he'd be really sad, because he realizes that this is why you broke up right? and no matter how in control of your emotions you think you may be, your wide eyes show how afraid, nervous, and sad you are. he knows. he knows without even talking to you and it hurts
and after he gets past the anger and confusion stage, maybe even in between in fact- which would be more natural since, I think he'd feel this all at once but that's besides the point
he'd be really sad he missed all his sons milestones. walking, first words... God he probably dreams about it (when he does eventually fall asleep), and now his heart is tugging at the seams and the seams are RIPPING.
he also starts thinking about how hard it must've been doing it by yourself. and going through all that without him, your partner.
but maybe you didn't rely on him like he relied on you? maybe you didn't trust him like he did you, maybe you just... didn't need him. like he needed you.
you did break up afterall, and you never let him know about the kid until now, so maybe you thought he'd be a failure of a father and nipped it in the bud before disaster struck...
but I also think that's where anger comes in. because you didn't tell him. he didn't have a choice at all.
he knows he had a tendency to hesitate or run away, but he thinks really hard about it, and he knows he wouldn't have ran away from this.
leaving you alone would scare him a lot more than being a father. being a bad or absent father would scare him a lot more than trying to be a good one. knowingly abandoning a life he helped create, would scare him so much more. he wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise.
so while he gets it. he doesn't get why you didn't try.
and if you explain that you worried about ruining his future, he's so upset and so mad because how could you make that choice for him? how could you take on the burden alone?
this is also where confusion merges in, because while the answers are so obvious or easy to guess, he just can't believe it. he doesn't wanna believe it...
now about your future...
cove still loves you. he's loved you his whole life, it's hard to stop even 5 years later... and seeing you, it makes his heart throb because he's dreamed about this for many nights.
you broke up with him without giving any answers. you even up and moved by the end of the week so when he tried to give you space, before talking to you, it was too late. your room was pretty much void of every sign of life.
you took all your treasured items, your clothes- spare some youd been meaning to get rid of, your pictures, your hobby items. everything. he's surprised you didn't just take the bed and frame.
he's surprised you didn't just carve out his heart n take it with you, because if it's still in his chest, why does it feel so hollow?...
it'd take a really long time to even think of a romantic relationship. if at all. maybe cove's even accepted the break up at some point, depending on how long you'd been together. but if you'd been together since you were 13, it's a hard pill to swallow. bc you can put up with his angsty teenage self, what changed...?
I think seeing you be a parent, and so adored by your son, warms up his heart. makes him fall in love a bit at the sight.
it's not instant, he's getting to know you again. and getting to know this life that he didn't even know was waiting for him.
it's a good 2 or 3 years of figuring out this mess until it becomes something that makes sense. or as much sense as it can make. and if there's still something there, no matter how miniscule. it will catch fire.
now about the kiddo... he's so scared. and I hope you took a few days of talking with cove, and prbly cliff n Kyra bc they have a lotta feelings n thoughts on this too, before you try to integrate cove into his life.
it's small. cove meeting you at the park, and either your son is asking cove a billion questions (both abt why the sky is blue, and awkward questions abt why he wasn't present before...)
or he's trying to drag him on the monkey bars (doesn't work, cove's feet are on the ground still....)
or he's sitting silently on the blanket, reading, occasionally showing cove his favorite scene of the picture book or making him pronounce a word
but it does get bigger, it becomes lunch-n-movie dates, spending the night at your house (at your son's insistence. prbly bc he didn't want him to leave after a fun day), then cove taking him out alone..
it's a lot. and sometimes it feels like you're going backwards or that you're not moving at all because it's hard, for awhile. and even though his dad is on speed dial, there's not enough information he can give cove in how to take care of and deal with a kid he just met a few months ago.
especially a kid who already has a bit of personality, is hell on wheels (like most 5 year olds), possibly has many questions n sometimes problems with cove suddenly being here... it's a lot. n cliff can't help with any of it really.
he does get comfortable, eventually. although there's still times when he's sad, sometimes even angry about what happened, and all he's missed out on, he's so so happy to not miss out on anything else.
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inchidentally · 4 months
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@vastappenen LISTEN okay so this is the full spin-off of the Charlos part of my Prince Lando AU post
I cannot write real fic so this is just like me doing a retelling of what's gone on in my mind lol - and this is the post of Charles in White that's screencapped above
(side note my friend was listening to this haunting music while I wrote this so it might help set the scene - it's called "Fancy on a Bach Air" by Yo-Yo Ma)
this gets a bit NSFW toward the end so fair warning!
ok so to start, this is what was in my original post
Unfortunately the royal courts of Europe were shaken by a quick series of upsets: His Serene Highness Lorenzo of Monaco abdicated the throne in search of a quieter life - his heart had never been in it since his father, the former Sovereign Prince, had become ill and abdicated. This left Lorenzo’s unwed brother Charles to be hastily crowned Prince Regent at the tender age of 22 (too young to be crowned Sovereign Prince bc modern monarchy rules I’m inventing). As a result Charles suffered the loss of his long-time suitor, nobleman Sebastian Vettel, who couldn’t bear the thought of being Sovereign Prince let alone of a land that wasn’t even his own.
Enter the Sainz Vázquez de Castro elders seizing the opportunity and negotiating a deal with Monaco in private conclave with the Papal State (??) to wed their son Carlos to the Prince Regent. Carlos is ashamed at giving in to the temptation… to not just be Prince Consort but to be Sovereign Prince, to rule over the vast wealth of Monaco and by extension the Holy See, to have the coveted beauty Charles in his bed. So he agrees to be spirited away to Monaco and the ugly business of dissolving his betrothal to Lando is left to members of church and state.
But Carlos experiences a complete conversion when Charles is on his knees in the cathedral - looking up at him with docile green eyes as Carlos’ fingertips touch the warm red roses of Charles’ lips as he holds the chalice of holy wine for Charles to drink. Carlos was almost hard beneath the ermine and velvet robes in a house of God when the crown was on his head and Charles next to him - and slightly below - smiling up at him with filaments of gold hanging from pendants on his chaplet, framing his achingly beautiful face. If Carlos feels his immense happiness and prosperity darken whenever he sees Lando’s picture or encounters him at one of the courts then no one need know.
ok so I've removed this from the narrative to of course be charlos true happiness endgame and removed Seb entirely, or he can just be called a close confidante and possible candidate to marry Charles but not very serious.
I imagine young Carlos Jr. moving through the royal courts as a child and teen and seeing the royal children of Monaco sometimes. in my weird version of royalty I have it that Lorenzo is the natural successor to the throne and therefore has always been allowed to dress and be seen "normally". as a second child, Charles was always the rightful property of whichever alliance would maintain Monaco's independence. he was raised mostly in the Prince's Palace and when playing or venturing to where he could be seen he's attended by a retinue of guards each carrying a gonfalon to conceal the young prince from view. on the rare occasions that the prince will be around those not within his immediate family or private staff, he is carefully wrapped in embroidered, jeweled white silks or cottons (depending on the climate) with only his eyes visible. the only color allowed being a scarlet silk girdle around his hips. until he reaches maturity or is married he wears a ferronnière with a single white diamond at his forehead. (I imagine the wrapping as looking like fancy white fireproofs that cover the hands as well and a long, flowy tunic over the top with smart little white renaissance boots (that Charles hates).
Prince Charles is also not permitted to speak outside of his family circle/staff but he is taught multiple languages and fond rumors spread that the prince has a charming lilting accent that comes from a little of everywhere. he is also taught the piano and there is a place on the shore that only locals know of where fairy echoes of his playing can be heard. they call it his 'lone voice' because the mood inside the palace can be judged by the prince's choice of music. childish and jolly for a while, then more challenging pieces, until his eighteenth birthday and an unknown dirge for his godfather who had perished during a racing tourney that summer. the prince's music would change over the years but it would never be joyful again.
I imagine many instances over the years of Carlos Jr. being coaxed by a conniving Carlos Sr. into bowing low to the small, mummified-looking creature that everyone assures him is a prince. the eyes and vague suggestion of white-clad hands and feet are the only indications that this is true, but the big green eyes are very expressive and seem to smile whenever they meet Carlos' own big brown eyes. Prince Lorenzo has a kind smile and would be a good playmate but solemnly maintains his position by his parents' side. Prince Arthur comes along in a bundle of energy and mischief - being blessed with a birthright to total freedom so long as his elder siblings are alive. he enjoys being swung around and thrown in the air by Carlos Jr. which helps pass the tedium of royal engagements. Arthur is clearly the favorite of Charles who rather mothers him - especially when the Sovereign Prince falls ill and hushed preparations are made behind palace walls for Lorenzo to take the throne. Charles is so deep in mourning for his godfather and soon his own father that his presentation at court is delayed indefinitely as it would be cruel to open him up to marriage bids that would inevitably take him from his home.
in the meantime, Carlos Jr. has grown into his large features and promises to inherit all his father's looks and daring. at his father's encouragement - "by the time you wed a virgin, you will need to know everything there is to know about pleasing them" - Carlos enjoys countless conquests across every continent on the globe. he's a seasoned bachelor by the age of 20 and has been given his own estate outside of Madrid to party, race expensive cars and drink expensive wine. but even as he wakes between the thighs of this or that beautiful boy or girl, his mind recalls the hours spent at court in Monaco trying to discern the subtlest lines of Prince Charles' body beneath the absurd layers of drapery. he knows for sure that the prince is slim but not scrawny. that his posture is upright and proud and stands about the same height as Carlos. at times when he scoops Arthur up to hold on one hip, Carlos can discern the fine dip of a small waist - probably small enough for Carlos' big hands to meet around. what a gift-wrapped present for whoever got to marry him!
but by the time they next meet, news has traveled all over of the Sovereign Prince's health and plans for the reluctant Prince Lorenzo to be hastily crowned. during their first visit after this news, Carlos Jr. makes his usual low bow to Prince Charles but when he looks up he sees tears clouding the prince's green eyes. it twists Carlos' heart and he boldly takes the prince's hand and presses a hurried kiss to the silk and at the same time trying to speak with his eyes how sorry he is for the prince. the small noise Charles makes at Carlos' boldness is a precious secret Carlos holds like a tangible thing against the breast of his tailcoat as he hurries down the steps before any of the other royals can notice what he's done.
[this is when the above section from my AU comes in and Carlos is attempted to be married off to Prince Lando, Lorenzo abdicates, Charles can only be named Prince Regent bc of his status etc and a hasty arrangement is made for him to marry Carlos]
at their wedding I imagine Charles' veil/headdress to be much lighter and tied in a simple knot at the base of his head. the only time Charles is called to speak is to swear fealty to the crown, to his country, and to his husband (it's also the first time Charles' voice has been heard by almost everyone in the Cathedral including Carlos. it sounds like joyous music, dipping deep and rich one moment and high and sweet the next - with a little bubble of laughter at the end. Carlos wants to hear him talk forever.) when the priest finishes his blessing, Carlos put a hand beneath Charles' chin and guides him to stand. he moves closer to Charles than he has ever been permitted and circles his arms around his neck to untie the knot. the veil falls away and a collective gasp rises up from the cathedral through the clouds of incense. Carlos doesn't gasp so much as suck in a triumphant breath through his nostrils and lifts his chin in triumph. Charles is not just the chaste ideal of beauty that the court and citizens of Monaco had whispered about for years, he is the vision of temptation itself: a delicate brush-spatter of freckles beneath a flush on finely molded cheekbones, a straight French nose that was the final word on French noses, and perfectly smooth lips in the shape of a patriotic 'M' and the exact red of Monaco's flag. the prince's hair and brows have all the shades of a glossy hazelnut and a thick fan of lashes surrounded the green eyes - all that Carlos had known of him until now. but soon, he would know everything about Charles and in a way no one else ever had or would.
Carlos is supposed to buss a small, ceremonial barely-there kiss to Charles' lips to please the court but of course he can't help himself and, holding Charles' face in his big hands, presses a fiercely possessive (thankfully still close-mouthed) kiss that nearly makes Charles collapse. murmurs go around the cathedral of "well, those Spaniards, you know".
when they are crowned, my version of royalty has the priest setting the heavy gold crown on Carlos' head but Carlos in turn places the chaplet of gold leaves and gemstone pendants on Charles. Carlos is flying as high as mortal can when he can finally lead Charles out to the balcony and show him off to the waiting public. Carlos wonders if there's a man on earth who possesses more wealth than he does at that moment.
but there's one more thing he doesn't yet have! oh you bet the bedding ceremony is weird and fucked up and poor Charles is using the short time they have alone as they move through the halls (merely flanked by guards) to nervously and apologetically explain to Carlos what they will need to do. something about protocol for regents who found it difficult to "perform" under such circumstances etc. Carlos just puts a big warm hand to Charles' lips as they are rushed along, leaning into to whisper that he'd take Charles' virginity in front of his own grandmother if that's what was required and his desire still wouldn't be dampened.
the chamber is small and has one purpose. the clergy stand behind wrought iron mullioned screens but Charles can see their eyes clearly and has known many of them all his life. he'd probably faint dead away from nerves if Carlos didn't pull him close and kiss him so deep and dirty it should've turned Charles' white gown red with lust. Carlos tells him to look only into his eyes, that he'll take good care of him. there's a whole intense sexy element to Carlos unwrapping Charles the rest of the way, just like the birthday present he'd imagined when he was a teenager. he probably spends WAY too much time on foreplay considering the witnesses are only there to see one thing and then leave but Carlos knows that Charles deserves this. by the time they've reached the point where Carlos can reach a hand between them and literally 'come' up with the goods to hold up and be viewed, Charles' moans are reaching up to the rafters. there's a rustle and murmured blessings as the priests finally withdraw.
Carlos is like FINALLY and decides to give Charles every bit of the benefit of his vast experience and looks smug as hell when Charles' attendants have to physically carry Charles to his own bed bc Carlos fucked him senseless lmao
agfalsgfsla this was so weird and detailed and I do not know WHERE it came from but if an actual writer sees this and wants to write it properly PLEASE tag me or message me!!!
EDIT: these are great photo references for adult Charles and Carlos in this AU
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gazspookiebear · 2 months
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Ghost hcs mostly him having autism
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Has compression socks and gloves bc they help keep him regulated, but he HATES tight clothing anywhere else. He strictly wears loose and baggy clothing, like oversized hoodies
Hates flavored water unless it's tea. Green tea? Sure. Any kind of sparkling water? Nuh uh
Likes mud and rain puddles. Don't ask me why
Can't stand the smell of coffee in the morning, it overwhelms him. He can and will leave the room if someone just made coffee
Doesn't like hugs, or really just being touched in general. (Mostly due to trauma, but the autism isn't helping either)
That being said, when he does get hugged, he prefers it to be firm. Heavy knuckles running up and down his back is the quickest way to make him melt in your arms. Soap is the only one allowed to do this, but Price and Gaz will very occasionally be offered one of those awkward one-armed half hugs if they need one.
He masks most of the time (literally and figuratively) so it's not very obvious that he's autistic from first glance. If he's comfortable with the people around him, or if he's alone, he might stim
He does jazz hands as a stim, and can occasionally be found tiptoe walking
He also knocks his knuckles together and rasps them on desks. He likes the noise.
He prefers rough or smooth textures over soft/fluffy ones. Denim, mesh, leather, linen, and polyester are the only fabric types he'll be comfortable in.
He keeps his hair buzzed, not just because he's in the military, but because he pulls on it and ends up tearing it out of his head when he gets sensory overload from it touching his face (me too bro, me too)
He listens to metal songs on max volume when he's sensory seeking (you can hear that shit through his headphones)
He doesn't like having things in his ears, so he prefers headphones over earbuds. He won't complain if he has to use earbuds though.
Surprisingly enough, he can't stand weighted blankets. Unless that weighted blanket is Soap 😏
He gets aggressive when he's excited, so he'll often go to the gym to blow off some steam. Rookies see him going to town on a punching bag and assume he's pissed, but really he just doesn't know how else to express his feelings.
He hyperfixated on komodo dragons for a while (he now has several random facts in his arsenal)
His special interest is weapons. Any kind, he just thinks they're interesting. Especially crossbows. (He knows just about every weapon under the sun, ask him literally anything)
He steals Soap's phone to play neko atsume (he has become emotionally attached to the cats, but you didn't hear me say that)
He prefers to sleep with blankets under him instead of on top because it makes his skin crawl if they're not the right texture.
He's always cold but radiates heat like a motherfucker, definitely has an electric blanket at his place
He has a favorite pen that he carries everywhere, refuses to use anything else.
He eats the most random food combinations. Tomatoes with sour cream? Delicious. Avocados with cream cheese? Absolutely divine. A normal fucking sandwich? Hell no.
He struggles with hygiene but hates feeling dirty. He'll often force himself to shower even when he knows it'll drain his energy.
He has to buy a specific type of eyeblack because of the texture. He doesn't like any kind that feels too greasy. Not that it'll stop him from wearing it if that's all that's available, but he won't be happy about it.
He used to bite his hands as a kid. Hard. He has a few small scars because of it
He enjoys heavy bass. He likes low rumbling/knocking noises. He may or may not be considering buying a bass drum...
Alternates between sleeping in a hammock and a bed at his place
Loves chairs that spin, though you'd never catch him spinning 😔
Everything he says sounds sarcastic, even when he's being genuine. This has caused many people to get annoyed with him.
He tends to grind his teeth, so he chews on tree bark to keep his mouth busy
He used to climb trees as a kid because he liked the way the wind felt from up high in the leaves
He isn't a fan of the way paper feels. That being said, He loves old books. He spends most of his downtime at the library since it's quiet and peaceful, plus it gives him a way to get out of the house and busy himself.
He still wears a mask off duty for many reasons. For starters, he's never been the best at facial reactions. He thinks it's easier to just hide it altogether than to try and contort his face into the "appropriate" reaction. Secondly, he has stims and occasional tics where his mouth moves, and he doesn't want people to stare. (Snapping his mouth like a shark... so real to me) Also, he just thinks it should be common practice. He's never understood why people don't cover their mouth and nose, or at the very least cover it when they cough/sneeze.
He will actually fan the air in front of him if someone he doesn't like just walked by. He doesn't want to breathe "their air". (Graves was very confused as to why Ghost kept waving the air every time he walked by)
He wears sunglasses in public, regardless of whether or not it's sunny out. He just doesn't want to have to make eye contact with people if he doesn't have to. He can make eye contact, but he much prefers not to.
He punches his legs or the walls when overstimulated.
He has dromophobia (fear of crossing streets) and tends to speedwalk across roads
Has the biggest vocabulary known to man because he used to read dictionaries as a kid. (He can and will abuse this power when someone is annoying him)
Prefers non-fiction. That's it.
He cleans doorknobs daily. He specifically keeps a pack of wipes with him to clean doorknobs- who the fuck knows when they were cleaned last. He can't stand the idea of touching something that dozens, if not hundreds of people (who may or may not have washed their hands) have touched prior.
His favorite color is orange. He always avoids touching anything orange because he's worried he'll ruin it somehow.
He washes his hands before and after everything he does (when he can)
He has a crowbar. He keeps it beside his bed, and he's very fond of it.
He can stay completely still for concerningly long amounts of time. Useful for missions, unnerving the rest of the time. Can and will be seen in the corner of a room staring at people.
@waiting-so-long I'm so glad someone wanted to hear my nonsense lmao
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rotandguts · 9 months
Text
✶ ┄ YOU WEREN’T MINE TO LOSE
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danny (evil dead rise) x fem!reader, 
part one of the ‘august’ series. 
camp map
summary: the first week back at camp is never easy, but it definitely doesn’t help matters that your lifelong rival and ‘mortal enemy’ is there. both picked as camp counsellors, you’re forced to work together for the good of the camp, but that doesn’t mean you have to like each other.
word count: 10k+
content: SUMMER CAMP AU, rivals/enemies to lovers, implications of transphobia, mentions of bullying, slowburn, angst, mentions of alcohol/intoxication/underaged drinking, mentions of sex, mentions of divorce and abandonment, hints of david allen (evil dead 2013) x fem!reader, some people may be quite OOC?
A/N: EEEEEEK, this is going to be a long one but will be split up into chapters. btw i have no clue what danny’s actual last name is so for the sake of this story its bixler bc that's what beth’s confirmed name is okay? I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG LMAO part 2 and 3 will take very long also okay okay i’m so sorry pls enjoyyyyyy xoxo
publishing date ―  july 21st 2023 |  © rotandguts
The winding road on the way to camp was claustrophobic, your first year driving there yourself. You prayed you were still on the right route, your phone’s GPS struggling to update after losing service a while back.
The sight of the endless rows of green trees was becoming redundant, the charm of the wilderness already wearing off on you upon the second hour of your journey. Eyes on the road, you slurped on the blue raspberry Slusho you picked up at a gas stop mid-journey. Savouring the cool syrup induced taste in the summer heat, windows down and car speakers blaring.
A large wooden sign came into view, confirming your path and indicating the end of the long journey. Engraved on the sign was:
CAMP KANDAR
est. 1959
You have gone past this sign every year since you were 8 years old. Initially reluctant to attend, you grew to truly love the place. You giggled at the thought that they almost had to pull you kicking and screaming from the car when you realised you would be remaining there for a little over a month the first ever time you arrived. How times had changed seeing as you were now willingly returning as an adult.
Camp Kandar was just outside Los Angeles, a safe hub to send your kids away to learn what the outside world was like at a reasonable price.
If you imagine what your ideal slasher sleepaway camp would look like from a 70s horror film, Kandar probably looked exactly like it. You were surprised that in all the years of running it no one had actually died there, as far as you were aware anyway.
There were rumours and myths of the camp being built over an ancient castle. Or maybe it was a burial ground? It changed every few years when new counselors got to tell their own version of the myth to the young campers.
This actually would be your first year as a counselor at the camp, it was either this or spending more time slaving away at your job in the local Henrietta’s pizza. You could no longer bare the daily heat and stench of the pizza kitchen, especially during summer.
Hands from distant figures you couldn’t make out waved at you on arrival. Your car finishes its journey in the parking lot beside a Buick Roadsmaster at the child and parent drop off point. You furrow your brows, the campers weren’t meant to arrive for another 2 days.
Exiting the car, you take a moment to breathe in and embrace your new home for the next few weeks, your summer sanctuary for over the past decade greeting you like an old friend. Thick, moist summer sweetness so rife in the air that it makes you feel almost sick to your stomach.
The first thing on your itinerary was to collect your uniform from the camp reception, which you were sure you’d be manning at some point during your time working there. You thought of all the things you’d be able to do now as a counselor, buzzing around the prospect of sneaking out late to whatever party they’d always throw near the old cabin. None of the younger campers were invited, only hearing fabled tales of wild goings on from the distant music and laughter in the night.
Camp director Williams definitely knew about the extracurricular goings on at the camp, and while he took no nonsense, he knew that kids just want to have fun. It’s what made him such a great leader, although the shotgun on the wall above his desk definitely kept campers on edge.
With your case trailing behind you and your backpack hanging casually from your shoulder, you set off towards the camp reception. The building clearly needed a refresher, certain letters in the sign slightly faded due to time and the wood of the steps creaking to a cautious extent under your feet.
Doors swing open, eyes flicker to you. A woman with long red hair stands at the desk with her back to you, obviously in distress talking to director Williams, her arms flailing with hushed whispers.
“Oh great. And you’re here, now. My day just gets better.”
And him.
You turn around and there he is, bags slung on the floor, leaning against the wall with a Nintendo Switch in hand.
Danny Bixler-Sutherland, your worst nightmare.
You had met him that first ever year at camp, becoming close friends after you were assigned to share a bunk. But something shifted in both of you, you were unsure when it all really started. You were both naturally competitive at the group activities from a young age and usually always sorted onto different teams, you always wondered if your competitive playing style drove a wedge in between you both.
Director Williams places a hand on her arm in comfort, “Please, we’ve known each other for how many years now? You know you can call me Ash, Ellie. We can just get bunks sorted for them until moving in day and then sort out proper accommodation. Means they’re not alone in the cabin.” He began to walk towards you, shifting the woman to face you. It was Danny’s mother, Ellie with a striking hair dye job.
Danny had always been in your dormitory growing up, until he came out and his mom fought tooth and nail to get him transferred to the boys dorm. He was popular around camp and people adjusted to the news quickly. But, there were of course a handful of dickheads that treated him like shit because of it. Director Williams put great measures in place to ensure none of them bothered Danny again, some of them being kicked out of camp. You had always wondered if that shotgun had been involved in Williams’ interrogation of them, you hoped it had.
Ever since the summer when the championship was determined to be a tie after you and Danny broke into a fight during the last challenge, you’d been at each other’s necks at almost every possible second.
However, deep down you had an inkling that it all really had something to do with a night that same year, around five or six years ago when a small group of the pre-teen campers, including the both of you, snuck out to camp in the woods.
It had been a largely uneventful night, the excitement in the moment mainly fuelled by the breaking of rules. By the end of the night it had become apparent that despite the bunks in their dorms not being the comfiest, they sure beat the makeshift tents and dusty forest floor.
But the shift in the air was clear. You went into those woods that night, hoping for a last chance of that closeness so present in your youth. By the time you left in the morning and returned to your respective dorms, you barely spoke.
Both of you may have been at each other's necks at the best of times, but insulting each other's appearances or anything personal was a line you both silently agreed to never ever cross. You remembered overhearing bitchy whispers from some of the girls in the cafeteria about him when he first appeared with short hair pre-transition, and you took great pleasure in cutting their hair that night when they were sleeping.
When the girls reported you to the director he had simply shrugged and said, “Talk shit, get hit girls. First rule in the book.”
And it’s not like he wouldn’t do the same for you. Some of the boys had been teasing you, more specifically teasing your figure, behind your back. Low and behold, you had heard that Danny took the charge when standing up for you. It was little things like that that meant you could never truly hate him, and same for him about you.
It was kind of like, the only people that could be mean to you both were the two of you. It was endearing in a way that you would rather die than to admit outloud, a sign of respect from your former friendship.
“Is this a bad time?” You question Danny, feeling like you’ve walked in on something you shouldn’t have but not wanting to pester director Williams until he ends his conversation. “Every place you exist in is a bad time.” Danny remarks, concentration still fully on the games console in front of him.
“That’s a low blow even for you, someone woke up on the wrong side of bed today, Mr Crankypants?” You retaliate, readjusting the weight of your backpack.
“You’re a little too old for camp, scout.” That was his nickname for you ever since you were younger. Without context it seemed almost endearing, but the reality of it drove you crazy.
In an attempt to impress an older counselor years ago, you had told a little white lie that you were a scout with all the training. This was a lie you kept up for almost the full time at camp, and doubled down on it on most days. On a hike, one kid began to have an asthma attack and the responsibility of helping them was promptly put on you by the panicking teen counselor.
Luckily, the kid was completely fine but it became apparent to everyone that you not only were not a scout but had zero knowledge in first aid training. No one had really cared, the counselor got in trouble for their negligence and own lack of first aid knowledge. Everyone went back to their normal jokes the next week after a spot of light torment from your fellow campers.
But you cared. It was just one of those borderline traumatic cringe moments in your life that you wish you could forget. And Danny, who was on the hike that day, knew that.
“Yeah I could say the same to you, DJ Dan.” He grimaced, slamming the console down on the reception desk.
“Jesus H Christ, how many years now with you both and you’re still doing this shit?” Ash wiped his brow of sweat, Ellie’s eyes fluttering between the two of you.
“Hey, Y/N. Good summer?” She smiled. You’d known the woman in passing for the same time you’d known Danny. She had definitely been on the receiving end of many phone calls about your behaviour towards each other, and your perhaps even worse behaviour towards others while acting in defence of one another.
Smiling and nodding back to her, “Yeah great so far, thanks - yours?” Despite trying to keep her smile, for a second her face flickered with something unreadable, Danny nervously shifted, eyes bouncing to his sisters in the corner of the room. They were so quiet you had failed to notice them sitting there.
“Same old, I guess.” Her hands clutching her car keys tighter. “How are your parents?”
If you were being honest, you didn’t know the answer to that.
“They’re fine. Same old, I guess.” You gripped the strap of your backpack a little tighter too. Your parents, while not mega rich, had a good bit of money. Most of your life, you’d spent much of your time without them or with a nanny. Summer was great because it meant going on holiday with them somewhere, anywhere. Until they realised they could hire a nanny in the form of Camp Kandar for the entire summer that was far cheaper and even further away from them.
Ellie politely nodded, before approaching the girls. “It’s just two days extra, right? I’ll be there to pick you all up the first second I can and bring you home.” Bridget nods, the older of the two. Kassie looked pained for a moment. Danny began to walk over, finally leaving his haunt, sitting beside Kassie and holding her small hand in his own.
“But what’s gonna happen? Are we even gonna have a home?” The youngest Bixler sibling clung to a pole with a doll's head stuck on top of it, you elected to ignore it as Ash pulled you to the side.
“Here’s the uniform, good thing you got here when you did ‘cause you and Danny took the last of that size.” Your eyes widened at his statement as Ash continued on. Danny, still holding Kass’ hand, glared at you with a twisted smile.
This confirmed the worst, he wasn’t here for a brief visit to drop off his sisters like you’d prayed, he would be a camp counselor too.
“Rota will get sorted by tonight, but all that’s really needed is some clean up jobs around camp before we open. You’re sharing with Mia in Cabin 13.” Your face lit up. Like Danny, Mia and her older brother David had been attending the camp since you were young. David, being two years older than her, became a counselor when he turned 18. You didn’t know if she would be returning this summer to do the same, the last time you’d texted she seemed reluctant to return.
“Great. Happy to do that.” Danny rolled his eyes at your enthusiasm. “Suck up.” He muttered. You chose to ignore him.
You set off towards Cabin 13, ensuring you got the first pick of the beds.
The cabin itself was small and pokey, compared to some of the other larger counselor cabins which resembled camper quarters with bunks. Considering the added privacy that came with having only one roommate, especially a roommate you were close with, the size of the cabin was fine with you.
When you arrived, you found the cabin cork board already decorated with pictures and the left bed claimed with a sports bag emptied out on the sheets. You couldn’t even waste time being dismayed that you got there second, not when you could hear Mia singing in the shower. You began unpacking everything you could and changing into your new uniform, the faster you got settled in the quicker you could get on with the fun activities.
When Mia had eventually got out of the bathroom, dark long hair damp with her new uniform on (a green and white t-shirt with the camp logo on it), she squealed as soon as she saw you.
Mia Allen was 5’2 and looked probably around 7 pounds soaking wet, give or take. Ever since she was little she’d been much smaller than the others, but what she lacked in size she made up for in her quick wit and snappy attitude.
And plus, it certainly helped that she had an older brother that could only be described as totally swoon worthy.
While at times sardonic and off putting, she was your best friend at the camp and had been for many years. Both of you being placed in the same dorm each year led to a sense of familiarity with you both. You knew each other’s habits better than anyone.
Others viewed her as troubled, with rumours of past years involving her using drugs on camp grounds or going apeshit on other campers - but you knew better. She had experienced her fair share of bad times in her life, mostly as a way of dealing with her sick mom, should she be punished for them forever? You definitely didn’t think so.
“Thank GOD Williams listened to my roomie request, I almost thought I was gonna get stuck with Olivia.” She bounces on you and embraces you within a death grip.
“I thought you and Olivia were friends?” The older girl was a medical student now but still returned each summer to help, she’d hung around you both growing up. She loved to follow the rules, with no exception or nuance to them. However, Olivia was without a doubt the most responsible of all the counselors and it meant the staff didn’t need to train her in first-aid every year.
“Um, yeah, of course we are. But I’d rather choke on my own vomit than have little miss campus police as my bunkmate. She does her own room inspections every week, David says no one even asks her to do them.” Mia rolls her eyes, going over to her bedside cabinet to put some perfume on.
“Fair enough, I’m so happy to see you. I seriously thought I’d be the only one coming back this year.” Running a hand through your hair, you watched her lean into your shared mirror and put on her earrings.
“I know, you need to tell me everything that’s happened since I last saw you. Oh my god, so much shit has happened with my mom it’s fuckin crazy, man.” She began to apply lipgloss. “Tell me about it on the way to initiation, I didn’t realise the time already!” You grab her wrist, pulling her from the cabin.
“Slow the fuck down! Listen, they won’t start without us, and we’re like two minutes away.” Mia halted your speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
In the distance you could see Danny and some of the others heading towards the campfire area, or as the campers called it, The Pavilion. His head flew back with laughter at something a girl you didn’t recognise said.
“Not you literally gawking at your boy-toy.” Mia murmured, making you turn to look at her with furrowed brows. “What?”
“Yeah, you heard me. And don’t think I’m talking about Eric or Pablo, ‘cause I’m not.” She pulled out a carton of cigarettes from the pocket of her shorts, offering you one. You politely turn it down with a shake of the hand, “Maybe later.”
“This whole uhhhh I hate you so much uhhhhh I hate you too charade is so 2018. Like I wish you’d just give it a rest already and fuck it out.” Mia struggles to keep the cigarette in her mouth as she acts out her impressions of you both before lighting it. You almost choke on her words.
“What the fuck, Mia! Not cool!“
“I am literally right! Don’t think I’ve forgotten that whole truth or dare bullshit from last year.” The smaller girl took a long drag and shifted her weight on her feet, hand resting on a tree beside her.
“You shouldn’t be smoking out in the open like this - at least do it in the cabin with the shower on.” You roll your eyes and begin to power ahead to the Pavilion. “A-HA, don’t try and change the subject with me missy because you know I am not that bitch to be messed with.” Mia begins to chase after you, almost tripping while stealing glances around to make sure no one actually catches her in the act.
“Mia, I think you should quit while you’re ahead. You know my feelings towards that boy and you know none of them are pleasant.” Halting and turning to face her, she does the same with slightly more unbalanced, disjointed movements.
She takes a puff, “Yeah, I thought I knew your feelings. And then you said what you said.” She wasn’t giving up easily.
“I don’t remember what I said.”
“Bull-fucking-shit, this is like pathological liar level. You’re gaslighting me, man!” She waves her arms around manically with wide eyes, obviously trying to tease you. Giving her one last begging look, she stubs the cigarette out. “Fine. But we’re talking about this later.”
With that, she powers on in front of you. It’s as if the nicotine has given her enough energy to run a marathon as she determinedly stomps towards the campfire.
That game of truth or dare had been a drunken mishap at the secret end of year party. You had both managed to score an invite thanks to David, and by association Danny had been invited by Eric. Olivia was too buzzed on wine coolers to feel the need to kick you out, so you managed to spend most of the night there. Mia’s drunk alter-ego ‘the Abomination’ eventually appeared which led to you and David escorting her back to the girls dorm in the early hours.
You had been asked by a drunken Mia, the absolute fucking menace that she was, if you had to spend a night in bed with any of the boys who would it be? Immediately without thinking, in your own intoxicated state, you answered Danny.
Before you could even realise the deeper implications of the question, you immediately attempted to justify your answer by stating that you had shared a bunk for years and didn’t kill each other during that time.
She had teased you in front of the entire group, in your own state of embarrassment you had failed to notice Danny’s wide eyes and rosy cheeks.
But the teasing was over quickly with Mia throwing her entire guts up in front of everyone, leading David to jump back onto his feet and promptly drag her from the scene, requesting that you help carry her legs.
What you’d failed to tell Mia, tell anyone for that matter, is that despite your answer to her question, you and David shared a kiss.
It was behind the cabin after you both dragged her back in her drunken state, you hoped all its occupants would be sound asleep. He’d looked at you with a glimmer in his eye, his testing patience, seeing who would make the first move.
Both of you had been dangerously towing a flirtatious line all summer, a line that you’d been tiptoeing on for probably the past nine years prior.
It had never ever been a possibility before, you were his kid sister’s best friend. You were just you. But here he was looking at you like that.
Do you regret it in hindsight? Sure, but you hardly remember it. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might break out of your chest like that little creature from Alien. The moist summer air of the early morning clinging to your skin, a strong hand on the low of your back. Pressed tight chest to chest, a forbidden taste.
You jumped apart at the sound of the snapping of sticks by god knows what.
You parted with wide eyes and uncertainty rising in your chest. He placed a gentle hand on your cheek.
“I’ll speak to you tomorrow, yeah?” You nodded, a smile growing. The start of something new blossoming.
David and Mia were gone by the time you woke up, you had assumed David had driven them off specifically so you both didn’t need to address any drunken awkwardness from the previous night. Mia wouldn’t have opposed, with her hangover probably kicking in tenfold.
All that was left in his departure was a letter saying that he’d see you next summer and that you should call him when you got home if you wanted to pick up where you left off, with a phone number left under the statement. You text the number, leaving him with a message.
hey david,
last night was a mistake. it was a plain and simple heat of the moment mistake - as much as I’d like to start again, i can’t do that to mia.
You sent ‘i’m sorry.’ when you didn’t receive a reply after a month.
Quite frankly, you were dreading seeing him far more than Danny. With Danny at least, you knew that whatever you had said last year had gone right past his head (or atleast you thought it had). Danny wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to make you squirm, surely?
Honestly, now that you had been able to think it through - you wouldn’t be opposed to starting where you left off with David, the whole him being your friend’s brother thing aside. He was handsome, kind, and popular around camp. He’d looked out for you since, like, forever and you trusted him. If you were searching for a summer fling David would certainly be your go-to.
But whatever. If nothing happened, nothing happened, especially after the text you sent him. You could play this totally cool, right? It was just David. Stupidly hot David, with his constant tan and his almost annoyingly unwavering warm demeanour. You still remembered the first time you saw that smile. You were eight and he was ten, you fell down and scraped your knee during a group activity. He ran to you before any counsellors could even get to you.
“You’re okay.” A hand reached out, you grabbed it. And there was that smile. A smile you could trust. Yeah, maybe you were gonna be okay.
It was undeniable how he made you feel. Your legs turned to jelly everytime you laid eyes on him, you felt like such a ditz. But the presence of Mia complicated everything. You couldn’t do that to her. It would be too weird. Unless, you kept it a secret? A secret summer fling could be exactly what you need. Why did you have to send that damn text?
But then ultimately, he was just safe. Despite his attractiveness, all of the passion of the fling would be mostly fuelled by his relation to Mia, and if you’re being honest that was a line you did not want to cross with her. If she even found out that you both had kissed it’d be game over.
You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Mia calling your name.
“Are you even listening? Wait up, I have little legs!” She was significantly behind you now, struggling to keep up with your pace as you unconsciously powered ahead in front of her. “Sorry Mia, my inner volume was too loud, I guess.”
She squints, smirks before tapping your arm. “Yeah and we all know exactly who you’re thinking about.” Your eyes widen.
“Dann-”
“No.”
Barging past her again, the Pavilion now in sight, both of you being the only two left to arrive.
While the overall area has rows of structured seating comparable to wooden bleachers facing a stage, for more intimate occasions such as this there were stools placed closer to the stage.
“Fashionably late as always, you too. First strike.” Ash attempted to chase away flies with his prosthetic hand, shooting her a stern look. “Hey- what the hell? What happened to a friendly camper hello?” She resigned herself to the first tree stump available in front of you, beside her brother. You could only see his back and still you could feel the butterflies going wild inside you.
“You forfeit that when you come back here as a counselor. You’re being paid for this, this is a job. Stay. On. Time.” You swallow, taking the seat near Danny. He’s whispering something to Eric, but your eyes still meet.
Neither of you break but both of you wonder who will be the first to.
You pick up on things that have changed since last summer. His hair, chestnut again after a brief bleach blonde stint. You didn’t know what he suited more, you liked both.
You almost mentally slapped yourself for thinking that. But it was hard to not think how actually kinda attractive Danny was in staring competition moments like this. His eyes had such a mischievous glint in them that begged you for more, egged you on like what you were doing was so, so wrong.
Your cheeks grow heated and you can’t bare to stare any longer, losing the silent game.
“Okay, Bridget and Kassie will be staying here with us a few days early. That’s okay. Just make sure you’re on best behaviour at all time big kids, make sure you’re doing your job and looking after the little ones.” Bridget rolls her eyes at his words. She’s fifteen and thinks she can take on the world single handedly. Kassie looks a little less sure, resigning herself to staring at the ground and kicking some wood chippings at her feet.
“Cheryl, you wanna take it from here?” Director Williams turns to his sister, who appears by his side. “Sure thing, I’ve sorted the camp rota.”
You glance back at Danny, his eyes still on you. He smirks. You feel like you’re on fire. Turning away from him again to look where you had been so desperately avoiding, you see David glance at you. He smiles softly when he realises you’ve caught him, sending a slight wave. You don’t hesitate to return it, hearing a Danny sounding scoff coming from the opposite direction.
Cheryl goes over your duties for the next few weeks, you’re placed in arts and crafts with Mia and Danny. And a new girl who’d never attended this camp prior, Natalie. You assumed it was the girl walking with Danny earlier, now sitting timidly beside Eric.
Great.
Mia you could handle, and you could probably even handle Danny alone too. But Mia’s unrelenting urge to tease you for your misspoken words and Danny’s eyes that seemingly bore into your soul at every chance was going to be a challenge in combination.
Your face must’ve immediately read your exasperation, as Cheryl reassured “Don’t worry, usually it’ll just be two of you in for activities. You guys will be mixed and matched.” Your shoulders sunk in relief, not even realising how tense you had suddenly become.
Your ear is met with the soft whisper of Danny. “Don’t look too excited.”
“Bite me.” You hiss back, he grins with wild eyes, like he enjoys the way you’re speaking to him.
“Hey assholes! And I can call you that now because you’re adults. I better see no fighting, no nothing, or else this year - got it?” More Ash than director Williams warns, you nod.
“I’ll try sir, but she’s the issue.” The boy points at you, false sincerity in his voice. You bite your tongue, giving Ash a look that portrays your frustration.
“Whatever. Seriously, I’m watching you two.” Ash points at the both of you, Danny rolls his eyes. Eric and Mia make a quiet ‘ooooooooh’ noise and then laugh at their accidental timing.
Eric was the same age as David, and his childhood best friend, although you had noticed that they had drifted apart. He was as sarcastic as they come, but knew when to shut up and be serious. He’d been growing out his hair for the past few summers, it now resting just at his collarbone.
He’d taken Danny under his wing when he got moved to the boy’s dorm, it was common that one would be seen the other around camp.
After a few more ground rules were laid out, Ash reminded you that you are now the adults in charge and that any responsibility will be put on you.
“Oh and by the way. This is Natalie, she’s new. I know you all grew up together but please make her feel welcome, yeah?” Cheryl put her hand on the girl’s shoulder, Natalie waving timidly.
She was so effortlessly pretty you didn’t know if you wanted to cry or roll your eyes.
With that, you were free to spend the last night free before your jobs started the next day. As everyone was departing, you notice David eyeing the new girl, who stands like a spare prick as Cheryl inaudibly talks to her. He leaves with Pablo and Olivia after taking a second glance.
There’s those damn butterflies again.
Mia wraps an arm around you and drags you in the opposite direction, heading to your own cabin. You pass Danny, who winks before sending you a sarcastic kiss. You respond with a middle finger.
The first few days go smoothly, managing to stay out of any drama. Everyone is seemingly too tired to really interact with each other outside of your shared meals in the mess hall, all of you still adjusting to being in a foreign home.
Drop off day was longer and more tedious than the previous days, an earlier rise than the already early mornings at Camp Kandar. Buses filling the parking lot, hurried parents ushering kids out of cars, kisses goodbye. A floury of campers old and new dragging their luggage behind them in the chaos of sorting cabins. Camp reception was even more packed than before with parents handing off medication and bus drivers piling up all the forgotten items from their respective vehicles.
When the kids arrived, you were kind of ecstatic, seeing everybody arrive from a different angle than you ever had before, remembering how nervous you had been each year on drop-off day.
The camp entrance itself, aside from the parking lot and reception, welcomed campers in with a large arch that displayed the camp’s name proudly. From here, past the reception, led to a large open ground shaped in a circle.
If you kept walking straight, the mess hall was in front with extra benches set up outside for the good weather. To the left, through the trees were the camper dorms. Scattered throughout the many acres, it was common for the little ones to get lost.
Just beyond that were the staff and counselor cabins, with Ash’s being the furthest out of them all. On the opposite end of the camp was the activity field and the lake. It was pretty simple to get around, but the prospect of getting lost in the surrounding woods was intimidating.
Bridget ran towards a group of teens, who welcomed her with open arms. It was odd to think that in a few years they potentially would be the camp counsellors, and you and your peers would be off in the world doing all types of grown up shit. Goodbye adolescence forever.
Your heart dropped when you saw Kassie standing to the side awkwardly, clutching her stick with the doll head on it. For the past few days she had kind of kept to herself while Bridget had helped with the bigger jobs setting up camp. Slowly approaching her, you decided to strike up a conversation.
“Cool doll, what’s it’s name?” You gently poked it, her face lighting up at someone talking to her. Because she was little, it was hard for her to be included like her older sister aside from odd jobs Ash would send her on. Things like sending her to the Pavilion to find the biggest pine cone, or seeing how many laps she could do around the activity grounds.
“Staffanie. I made her, so she can protect me, and scare off anything scary in the woods. Danny says there’s monsters here.” Kassie explains timidly, a shy smile growing slowly.
“She’s cool, hiya Staffanie.” You return the smile, she waves the doll head as if to make her say hello.
“She says hello back.” After a nice lull, she turns to watch a group of kids her own age stand and talk to each other, obviously knowing each other outside of camp.
“I was really scared my first year here too.” You bend down to get to her level. “Really?”
“Yeah, really, it was super hard at first. But then I met Mia and it was all okay.” The little girl looks doubtful. “I don’t know, I think people think I’m weird.”
“Well that makes two of us kiddo. Listen, you’ve got Danny and Bridget to help you out,” Before you can finish she interjects. “That doesn’t count, they're related to me.”
She was right technically. “Yeah, but they’re not required to be nice to you, are they? David and Mia are related and they barely hang out.” You point towards them, on opposite sides of the area, David calming down a crying mother clutching onto her uninterested child. Mia was poking the ground with a stick.
“I guess.” Kassie was still hesitant, head racing with thoughts of what was really going on back home. Her mom thought she’d done enough to protect her from the startling reality of the impending divorce, and in a way she had. Kassie was sure that everything would be fine between her parents, only really worrying about losing their family home.
But even the thought of being at this camp, making no friends and then coming back to nothing was terrifying to the young girl. And it was a reality that a girl her age shouldn’t have to face.
“Kassie, I’m gonna be brutally honest with you. I think you’re gonna have the best summer ever.”
After a moment, Kassie turned with a smile. “You really think so?” You couldn’t help but return it. “I know so, pal.”
It was harrowing, it was like seeing your younger self in a way. Coming here was no easy feat. Sure, the activities were nice and you settled in eventually, but that scary feeling doesn’t really go away even after all these years.
“I’m Kassie, by the way.”
“I’m Y/N.”
Her face lit up. “Wait, I know who you are!”
“Well we have spent the last few days together so I did hope that you would have known my name by now honestly-”
“You’re the girl Danny always talks about! You’re his friend!” Kassie kind of bounces around, her new found enthusiasm infectious but her statement alarming. Not wanting to burst her bubble after seeing her so gloom for the past few days, with a stiff smile you offer a nod.
“I remember all the stories from when you used to share a bunk! Wow, I hope I get a bunk mate just like you!” You aren’t quite sure what she’s talking about, as most of your time bunking with Danny involved arguing about his snoring and your constant shifting above him.
“Yeah, fingers crossed.” You mimicked your own words, she copied you.
“And I can teach them the secret bunk code that you taught Danny, ‘cause Danny taught me!” A stab in the heart. You’d forgotten about that.
You developed a quiet knocking, humming and scraping system to have conversations with each other. It’d been one of those silly kid things you just stop thinking about when you have your first kiss or learn to drive. You can’t really even remember what you used to talk about in the quiet moments of the night when you weren’t bickering.
“We taught each other, just like you and your bunk mate will make up new words. Just go with the flow and you’ll have a great time.”
Kassie nods, more than cheered up from the conversation. “I’ll remember that. Gosh, I hope I get put on your team for the games!”
“Yeah, me too kiddo.” A girl around Kassie’s age stands alone at the drop off point just beyond the arch of Camp Kandar. Her eyes scan the scene in front of her, campers overwhelmingly conversing in their individual cliques. Nudging Kassie, you point in her direction.
“Why not go say hi to her? I think it might be her first day too.” The youngest Bixler-Sutherland sibling nods, and takes a deep breath.
“Kass, if it doesn’t go well I’m right here.” You crouch to her level, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. You knew exactly what she was thinking right now, as if this one interaction would determine her ability to make friends this summer.
With one last optimistic look, she trots off with Staffanie in tow.
“You givin’ my sister your shitty advice?” Danny’s voice catches you off guard, him appearing behind you as you watch Kassie from afar.
“Better than anything you’ve offered her the past few days clearly.” You don’t bother to turn to look at him, but you can feel his chin almost hovering in the crook of your left shoulder. His body, while not at all touching yours, feels close.
“Ouch, scout. And here I thought you were giving me flirty eyes at the first meeting the other day.”
“You fucking wish, Bixler.” He seems unfazed at your use of only one of his last names. In the distance, Kassie seemed to be explaining Staffanie to the other girl, who giggled and pet the doll head awkwardly.
Turning your head to face him, you’re almost caught off guard at how close he is.
“Kassie was talking about all the stories you’ve been telling about me.” His eyes flash with alarm for a moment, you have to stop yourself from laughing at the sight. Danny’s attempt to catch you off guard disrupted by your own secret weapon.
“Just the shit from when we were kids, before you become an intolerable bitch.” He stepped back, strutting in front of you.
“Well atleast I’m a bitch and not a complete moron, like you.” He sucks in a breath and scoffs. “This moron’s gonna beat your ass in the challenge teams this year.”
“Not if we’re on the same team, dipshit.”
“Pablo told Eric who told me that you’re in red team. I’m blue team, scout.” He circles you like a shark smelling blood for the first time, your eyes stay trained on him.
“How the fuck does Pablo know? Why would director Williams or Cheryl put us on opposite teams? Isn’t that just begging for trouble?” Your hands raise to rest on your hips, fists clenching.
“‘Cause maybe Pablo’s tight with Ash and Ash sorts the teams ‘cause Cheryl does rota. I was in red team but Eric asked to swap places and I said yes so I could be on the opposite team from you.” This bastard, always testing you. Always looking for a fight. Always needing to win.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” Knuckles white, this was all going to backfire on you specifically.
His taunting grin begged you to lose your temper.
“‘Cause it makes us better. Why be just good at working together when we could be even better tearing each other apart?” There was that closeness thing again, him getting up in your personal space. This was all a stupid intimidation tactic and you weren’t going to let it slide.
“When director Williams calls it out he won’t let you switch, even if Eric asks.” Something was going on here, more than what he was letting on. His eyes take a dangerous glance at your lips, he was playing dirty.
It wasn’t like you thought of him in that way anyway, nor he with you surely. Ultimately, he infuriated you.
Though, anyone would admit he was in great shape. Chiselled jawline and soft blue eyes that would make anyone swoon. He was attractive and you had shared a bunk with him, it was inevitable you would potentially form a deep attachment to him, you supposed. It’s definitely not like you had thought about him in the heat of the night in the safety of your own room, miles and miles away from camp. It was a hundred percent not like you had ever, ever replayed your most heated debates in your head, thinking about how breathless he could make you feel.
Fuck Danny Bixler-Sutherland.
“Don’t be so sure, they can’t reject a team transfer as long as someone on the other team volunteers a switch, it's against camp rules.” He backed away, hands held up in surrender. That stupid fuckin grin still on his mouth.
“Plus, Mia would be a far better teammate than you.” And with that he leaves you.
You couldn’t get his words out of your head.
What the fuck was he planning? Would Eric stoop so low to be involved in some stupid plot to have you guys in prime fighting positions? What was he getting out of this?
Stumbling across the sea of new campers to get to Mia, a plan quickly trying to form in your head.
“Mia, I need to call in a favour.” She dropped the stick at the mention of her name, pretending that she had actually been busy the full time.
“Fuck no, baby.”
“Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top?” Mia crossed her arms. “What is it?”
“You need to swap teams with me.”
“How do you know we’re on opposite teams?” Her position unchanging, eyes burning into your soul as if you were breaking the rules somehow.
“Danny might’ve let something slip, he’s in my team and wants to change with Eric so we can be competing, but I don’t wanna do that.” She glances over your shoulder at Danny’s current location, beginning to guide the campers to their assigned cabins.
“How does he know this?” You roll your eyes, scratching your forehead. “It’s a long story, but please Mia, I’m begging you - I need to beat him at his own game.”
Mia stands for a moment, watching the boy, before smiling and looking back at you.
“This is ‘cause you wanna spend more time with him isn’t it?”
“Whatever the fuck helps you sleep at night.” You cannot let her win this foolish debate she’s created in her head.
“Sure thing, I’ll swap I guess.”
You had completely zoned out of the induction campfire ceremony. It’s mandatory every year anyway, aimed at the campers specifically. You weren’t missing much. This team shit was driving you crazy, as soon as Ash coughed up that it was time for the counselor sorting ceremony you shot upright. Across the seating area you could see Eric nudge Danny, who barely acknowledged him.
“Okay guys, team red. Okay people here we go. Olivia, Y/N-”
“I wanna swap teams.” You stood up.
Some of the campers ooooooed at your exclamation, Olivia scoffed. “What’s so bad about my team?” You turned to her, apology written all over your face.
You couldn’t swap if you didn’t have someone to swap with, you knew this. But if Mia came in clutch then you also knew that Eric wanted to be on the red team for some reason, so no matter what he would swap with Danny.
“We’ve not even finished reading out the rest of your teammates.” Director Williams answers with an irritated tone, and honestly, rightfully so. You were being difficult.
“Blue is usually my team, c’mon Williams we know this.” Much to his chagrin, you are right. “Well, seeing as we’ve not even called out blue team members, how is anyone gonna swap with you?” All eyes on you, intimidating you more than you cared to admit.
Luckily, Mia came right to your rescue.
“I’ll swap with her.” She stands proud, like she’s testifying to the court.
The fingers on his prosthetic hand scratch his nose, for a second you wonder how it would feel to have such an appendage. His hand had been gone longer than you’d been alive apparently, the camp legend was that it got torn off by a bear in the camp outskirts when Ash was a counselor here himself.
“How the hell did you know you were on the other team?”
“Last year you warned us we spoke too much when we’re together at these things, I thought this year you’d want to keep us separated.” Mia’s excuse didn’t really make any sense, seeing as he had allowed them to share a cabin, but she was right in saying that when they were partnered up they did not shut the fuck up. “Red’s more my color anyway.”
The older man shrugged. “Swap accepted, I suppose.
That was that.
“Shall we continue? Okay, red team. Olivia, Mia, Danny, Sheila and Eric. C’mere.”
Your heart dropped.
What the actual fuck.
Even Mia turned to you in confusion as she began to walk down to the stage with the rest of her team.
Danny must have known all along that Eric wasn’t actually going to swap, he’d done this to throw you off his trail. If anything happens between you two it’s your fault for the switch over now.
But why? Why was he so desperate to manipulate you like that? If it had gone wrong at any point, if you had chosen to stay on the team, who would he have swapped with? Maybe Pedro was in on it too, but looking at him now he seemed even more zoned out than you were.
Danny’s eyes found yours in the crowd, you were instantly reminded of all the other types of shit like this he’d pulled in the years prior. You felt like a total idiot for causing a scene, tears threatening to fall.
“Blue team, let’s go! David, Y/N, Pedro, Natalie and Kelly.”
David. He’d completely slipped your mind.
Fuck this shit.
You couldn’t even turn to look at Danny through the rest of the sorting of the teams, not able to face his stupid smug face that you knew would be looking at you. Why did he have to be such a headfuck all the time?
The full thing kept playing on your mind even when you were back in your cabin with Mia. She was smoking a cigarette, leaning out of the bathroom window. Head in your hands, you sat on the closed lid of the toilet.
“Thank fuck we have our own toilets now, jesus, could you imagine only being able to use the fuckin shared one?”
“We still have to clean all the cubicles when it’s our shift, a private toilet just adds one more toilet onto that.”
She inhales the cigarette for a moment, letting it hit her lungs. Even with the window open it still stunk.
“Yeah, but like atleast it’s our toilet. I’d happily clean your piss on the daily over the combined piss of like 60 something kids.” Mia looks different with the moonlight on her face. Her eyes, kind of buggish normally, seem even bigger. Sometimes she looks like a different person, you think.
“From everything I know, I really thought he liked you.” She murmured, flicking the butt out the window when she finished. “I tried to warn you.” You look at her through your hands. She sinks down onto the tiled floor of the shower.
“Just so weird, right? Like what could he have gotten out of that?” Mia stares off to a point in the corner of the room, in contemplation. “I don’t even get why you don’t like each other. You both used to get along so well.”
You’d heard it all before, and your constant avoidance of the question came from the fact that quite honestly you didn’t even know how to answer it.
“All I know is that I’m gonna get him back tenfold.”
She smirks at you. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
For your arts and crafts block that week, you’d been assigned with Natalie. She was nice enough, kind of quiet but sweet with the kids. She’d spent most of her time asking you where things were. As far as you could tell, she was older. Probably not by much, at least around the same age as Olivia, David and Eric. She was from Salt Lake City, which you thought was a little far to come all the way to camp, but you didn’t judge her too much for it. It’s good to get away from home sometimes.
Kassie had indeed been placed on your team. Telling her that you were confident that with her and Staffanie on the team, you’d beat anything her brother threw at you both earned a giggle from her.
Another surprise was Bridget being placed on your team. She kept to herself or her friends mostly, but was more outspoken than a lot of the other teens.
Bridget had been attending camp the past few years since she turned 8, so you were more familiar with her than Kassie. In saying that, the age gap did mean that neither of you had really spoken to each other, especially as you weren’t a counselor before.
Each week, the teams would participate in challenges. Kids would file into the pavilion in their respective team colours, carrying makeshift posters and signs they had made during arts and crafts.
Waves of red and blue lining the wooden bleachers, allowing you to zone out while Danny lingered in your line of vision.
A soft hand to the low of your back, you jump. David waits with a smile and a water bottle on offer.
“Hey.” You soften, tucking a loose hair behind your ear.
“Hey, barely got a chance to catch up with you
since we got here. How you doing, kiddo?” The hand moves to your shoulder, a tinge of disappointment rushing through you. Another nickname, albeit a well meaning one, but one you still held in disdain.
“Not too bad, I've been busy keeping your sister out of trouble.” He chuckles, the famous David Allen smile appears. “I don’t know what she’d do without you.”
An earnest pause, but also a dangerous one.
“Listen David-“
“About last summer-“ Interrupting each other before either could make their point, and yet both so obviously on the same wavelength. The kiss.
“You go first.” His arms fold in a polite defeat. God, the bastard just oozed charm.
“Just wanted to address what happened last summer, between us. Just incase you felt uneasy or something it doesn’t have to be anything big if you don’t want it to be.” Heat rising in your chest, you felt like a stupid idiot with a school girl crush.
As if he could read your own thoughts, David placed his hand on your forearm. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
Danny lingered from afar, no stranger to the occasional glance your way. He almost scowled when he saw your company.
You wanted to mention the text, you wanted to ask why he never said anything. Why he didn’t reply. But David simply rubbed your arm, “We don’t need to talk about it.”
A sigh escapes your lips, one you hadn’t even realised you were holding in. “Cool.”
The first challenge passes by fairly simply, despite Danny’s obvious attempts to wind you up. He was a competitive fucker, that’s for sure.
Team Blue manages to take the win for the night, with the kids chanting David’s name. He runs up to you, sweating profusely and yet managing to effortlessly appear like he was a vampire from Twilight instead of someone who just won a game of dodgeball.
“Great work kiddo, my second in command.” A grin appears, one that you can’t help but mimic knowing finewell that you spent the full game preoccupied with Danny.
From the corner of your eye, you could see Eric nudge Mia with a smug smile and whispered in her ear. She looked at you immediately and grinned, the worried pit immediately returned in your stomach.
She skips towards you, with Eric retreating to Danny who stands on the sidelines looking a bit misplaced.
“Guess who’s going to a party tonight?” Mia offers you two thumbs up and does a shuffling dance, that only manages to kick up dirt and makes you cough.
“The Abomination?”
“Okay, fuck you. Us! They’re having a party outside the woods. Dude, our own counselor party!” It had been something you’d spoken about for years, but you felt the effect had been lessened after last year's antics.
“I don’t know, Mia. I want to take this next challenge seriously and-”
“And what? All the tension from today will mean nothing when we’ll all be hungover tomorrow, group bonding?” You tried to find another excuse. “What about the kids?”
“Girl, fuck the kids! I want to party.” All you could do was answer with an awkward shrug, which she took for total defeat.
“YAAAAY. Okay, quick, we have like 2 hours to get ready-” Mia grabs your wrist and pulls you in the direction of your cabin, Danny standing on the hill watching you as you go by. If you weren’t so nervous about the prospect of being at the party with David and trying to listen to Mia, you’d think he was checking you out.
“You better be there, Scout!” Eric calls after you both as you pass, Danny’s head dipping beside him seemingly finding the ground extremely interesting right now. “Suck my ass, Eric!” He howled in response, earning a fit of laughter from you and Mia.
The winding path, illuminated with random lanterns left by partying campers long ago, seemed to go on forever. The prospect of getting absolutely shit faced at the end of the trail after a long week of ensuring the safety of screaming kids, patching up old equiptment and cleaning up actual shit was what kept the counsellors of Camp Kandar going.
The transition between the July weather and August’s own was usually indistinguishable, but tonight was particularly breezy. Regardless, the blazing campfire your colleagues crowded around gave a small amount of relief.
Cheap bottles of liquor and red solo cups, firebright light and wine coolers left discarded on the forest floor in favour of roaming hands on dancing teens. There was almost something melancholic about it all, one day they’d well and truly grow out of this forever. The fleeting fun of camp summer, the spontaneity of beers in the woods on a lukewarm summer night.
David strummed lazily on a dark cherry coloured guitar, you almost wanted to roll your eyes at how it looked like he’d stepped right out of a young adult rom com.
“I don’t get what you see in him.” Danny appears, housing a beer you can’t quite decipher the brand name of. You can feel his judgement despite his eyes also watching the older boy at the other side of the fire, unaware to his dueling voyeurs.
“What are you talking about?” He licked his lips, letting out a scoffing almost laugh at your reply.
“You never suited acting stupid, Scout. But then again, are as predictable as a Chainsmokers song.”
Fingers clenching around your cup filled with god knows what, how dare he? It took everything you had in you to show restraint and now throw its contains over his loose fitting tank top and cargo shorts. He was dressed like every female gaze dream skater boy forever immortalised on countless Pinterest boards - and yet you were the predictable one apparently.
“Why do you have to be such a fucking dick all of the goddamned time? You’re insane.”
“I’m not the one sleeping with my best friend’s brother.” Wide eyes snap to his, still burning holes into David’s skull across the fire with a tinge of unnoticed envy.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” The clench around the red cup switches from anger to fear. He could always read her better than anyone. He finally looks at you, his blue eyes somehow welcome despite the venom you shot at each other. A pit in your stomach started to burn as if someone was inside digging it themself.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be getting this reaction. All I’ll say is don’t waste your time on him.” You could feel your eyes roll back, here he was backtracking trying to act like he was helping you again. No way were you falling for it again.
“I can spend time with whoever I want to. You’re just jealous that without alcohol I can’t hang around you without social distancing myself at all times.” You down the rest of your cup, just trying to keep your shaking hands preoccupied.
He shrugs. “Maybe I am.” His gaze shifts back to the rim of the beer. He contemplates copying your action and downing it as well. “Or maybe I just don’t give a shit ‘cuz I won’t even be around to see the fallout when you fuck it all up next year.”
Your turn to look at the boy again, taking in his frame for a moment. His hunched demeanour doesn’t read like he’s telling a joke or trying to wind you up.
“W-what?”
“Yeah, this is my last year. My parents are getting a divorce and my mom can’t afford to take us here anymore. And everything that was saved for my collage fund is getting put into the divorce. Surprise!” Danny uncannily laughs, clearly highlighting just how rotten the situation is.
“And it’s so fucked because we’re moving away and Bridge and Kass are leaving their entire lives behind and they’ll never get to experience this and they barely even know that we’re never going home again and it’s all just so so fucked-”
“Danny…. I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, why the fuck would you I don’t even know why I’m telling you this-” He starts to dab at his eyes and make a hurried exit before you reach out and grab his wrist.
When you look into his eyes you see that same boy from the first year you bunked together. The boy that was scared of the dark, the boy that was chatty and so eager to be outdoors yet scared of the wilderness. You see little Danny, all alone in the big bad scary world with no parents to really protect him, as much as his mom was trying. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You never knew he was going through anything this serious.
“Wanna go on a walk right now?”
You expect him to tell you to fuck off and storm away, or cast some snarky remark about David. He just nods slowly. “Let me just tell Eric where I’m going.”
“Cool, I’ll get you at the carving tree.” He kind of fumbles a nod and scurries to find the older boy.
You turn and David is behind you like a jumpscare, you’re unable to hide a yelp. He laughs and places a hand on your forearm, you grow tense - mind too preoccupied with Danny. “Everything okay? I know you and Bixler are kind of neck and neck, I’d hate for him to spoil the party for you.”
Glancing back at the blonde boy as he searches for Eric, a tinge of guilt pierces through. “It’s fine, I can handle him.
“Well if you ever wanted me to say anything to him, let me know.” He shrugged, guitar still resting over him.
“I actually had something to ask you.” The liquid courage was saying it was now or never, and if it all went wrong you could escape into the woods with Danny who would probably be feeling even worse than you.
“Uh-huh?”
Here goes nothing.
“Today, when you said we shouldn’t talk about the kiss or whatever. I just wanted to ask what changed your mind after you left that note on my pillow?” David’s face is unreadable.
“What?”
“And yeah, I’m sorry if the text I sent was brutal and I won’t lie and say I’ve not thought about the kiss a lot. But I don’t know man, just help me here.” It almost sounds like a rant as the words escape your mouth, David raising an eyebrow in retaliation.
“Well I’ll try and help you out, I don’t know what you’re speaking about.” He seems dumbfounded, an expression you’ve never seen cross him.
“The text. The note. You left me a note, did you not?” Hands trembling, you wish you had it with you in the chance it would somehow completely restart his memory.
“I left with Mia. I needed to get out of there, it was crazy and intense, and kinda good, but like totally wrong.” He moves you to the side, speaking in hushed tones as if it was an affair on par with JFK and Marilyn and not a stupid drunken kiss.
“And then I texted you.”
“No you didn’t, I don’t even have your number. Show me your phone.” The device feels like a brick from the Great Wall of China when you pull it out of your pocket. You try your best to hide your uneasy fingers when you scroll to the conversation, a silent prayer that you didn’t delete it.
There it was plain as day. It was a real conversation. He lightly grabs the phone off you, still holding it at a level that you can both see it. He taps on the contact and stares for a moment.
“Kiddo, I am so sorry. I don’t know who the hell this could be ‘cause that’s not my number.” David peels his own phone out his back pocket and shows his own contact. He was right, the number was completely different.
“I promise I don’t have a second phone as well, and I’ve never changed it. Not since I was like 13 and you still had a Motorola Razr, remember those?” He smiles, going back into a personality mode similar to a dad or grandfather. You weren’t going to lie and say it wasn’t giving you the ick.
All you could do was nod.
“Nevermind, I guess.” He parts with a pat on the shoulder like he was your sports teammate. And technically that’s all he was. A teammate, a friend's brother.
You turn in the direction of the carving tree, Danny stands in the distance. The stomach pit returns, you wish the digger would just go on strike.
All you can do is collect your thoughts for a moment and prepare yourself for the trip ahead, ensuring to grab a bottle of vodka from the ground as you approach him.
334 notes · View notes
mggsv · 8 months
Note
hey!! could I request smut with gnc reader (afab) and spencer? basically it’s the reader’s first time bc they’ve had lots of dysphoria in the past and spencer is just super gentle and loving but also gets dirty af as they get into it! and reader has a praise kink!
thank youuu!! :):)
His green sweater
afab!reader x spencer reid (18+)
warnings: first time!, talks of body discomfort and dysphoria, talks of past sex acts, slight aggressive spencer, eventual smut, praise, oral (reader receiving), sassy reid (inappropriate words)
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“I can’t- fucking breathe Spence.” you grunt, taking the binder off. You throw it at your lover huffing as you stood naked in front of his equally naked body.
He frowns, nervous hands itching towards his thighs. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable baby..” You shake your head, taking a small breather. “I’m fine i just- it’s different than..usual.” you swallow and move to cover your chest. You felt yourself sinking into a small headspace, feeling self conscious. “Baby..?” You hear Spencer’s soft voice call out to you. “Spence i’m fine-“
“You’re not.” He was closer now, you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. His nervous hands touched your bare shoulders making you shudder as he pulled you into his embrace. “You’re..very beautiful. I want to do this but only if you’re comfortable with it.” He murmurs, kissing the side of your head. Still you kept your eyes closed, arms tightly shielding your chest.
You feel Spencer pull away, followed by something being pulled over your head. Warm and slightly fuzzy on the inside. “Slide your arms in, i won’t look okay?” he says. You peel your eyes open to see green. A sweater. You pull it over the rest of your top half seeing that it stops right above your sex. “Spence?” you look down at the green sweater in confusion. He turns back around and smiles. “I uh- i figured that since you’ve had your daily limit of the binder that something else could keep its place for a while. I remember you used to always wear sweaters when we first met.” He opened his arms out for you, but you only stared at him with wide eyes. His green sweater- He made sure you’re comfortable. Fuck you loved Spencer Reid so much.
“Okay..i’m fine.” you cough and let him pull you into his arms, straddling his lap. “Let’s uh, let’s have sex..? How do i-“ he chuckles and kisses your nose. You shy away in embarrassment. It was already a disaster. You don’t know how to ask for sex. You’ve done..things with Spencer but it was never the big stuff, so when he laid you down and spread your legs the only thing going through your mind was how much would go inside of you.
He kissed your thighs lovingly, staring up at you with his eyes low. He hummed softly, tongue darting out to lick after every kiss. You squeezed your hole as he got closer and closer to your wet sex. “You’re absolutely beautiful baby.” He breathes, taking in sight of you. You were flushed, legs open and wet with Spencer’s tongue. That sweater however, stayed where it was and you were all the more comfortable. “So beautiful..god what am i gonna do with you?” He whispers, making you whimper. Your legs shifted to close but he placed a hand on your inner thigh. His thumb rubs over your sex slowly, picking up on just how wet you were. “Fuck..” he breathes.
You stared half lid at the ceiling, back slightly arching as his finger slipped inside of you. It went in with ease, Spencer’s fingered you before… “Spence..” you moan, “more please.” He pressed deep into your sex, another finger slipping in to stretch you. Spencer watched your lips part as another moan slipped out. You shuddered at the feeling of his fingers pressing that spot deep inside of you, it went even further at the thought of his thick cock filling you..and pressing it instead. You could feel yourself squeezing around Spencer’s fingers, but that didn’t stop him from adding another. “So beautiful..” he whispers. You groan softly, hand clutching the hem of his green sweater.
Spencer’s other hand finds your sensitive bud, giving it a few strokes before his tongue is on you. “Shit-“ you gasp. He lapped at your wet cunt while his fingers fucked you open. “You’re going to take me so well, i just know it.” He hums, taking your bud between his lips to suck while his fingers fucked you faster. “Spence..�� you moan, feeling your stomach warm. You shudder, trying to close your legs. “I’ll cum please-“
“Cum for me then.” He raises a brow at you, though you couldn’t see it. It made you smack his head in return. Your eyes rolled slightly, back arching even more as he tried to hold you down and eat you just the way you liked. “i’m..” you whimper, hips twitching as you came. He pulls his fingers out, but he kept devouring you. Your legs shook just a bit, his tongue flicking over your sensitive bud.
“Do you..want to continue?” He says softly to you. Spencer hovers above your body (not before licking his fingers clean however). His hair fanned over your face. You make out his concerned eyes and smile. “Mhm..” you reach up to bring his face down to kiss his lips.
It wasn’t long before Spencer had you beneath him. The way he whispered praises into your ear, taking him inch by inch felt like a fever dream.
“Big-“ you gasp, hand scratching at Spencer’s back as his cock slid into you. Your legs were around his waist as he held you in his arms best he could. Spencer fucked into you slowly, not even going in all the way. You didn’t miss how sweetly he whispered to you- how he talked your through it. How he held your hand..how he kissed your tears away.
“You’re doing such a good job baby.” He coos, “So good..taking me like this.” You feel your hips beginning to rock with his, your hole relaxing against his cock. You moan as he slips further inside of you, hands finding anything to hold on to- scratching his back, pulling his hair- anything, to hold onto while he fucked you.
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Text
ARTISTS! PICREW FOLKS! ECT!
I have a challenge.
I am going to, using my magical powers of description and poetic word choice, describe myself.
You should try to draw/make me based on what I describe and mention me in the post/reblog this post with the picture!
No pressure but if you see this and aren't an artist but know someone who may be, perhaps reblog and mention them? Just if you don't mind :)
However, do not (and I can't stress this enough) use AI art for this. I do not support the use of AI art at all and I do not want to interact with jt whatsoever
(it's gonna be in the third person bc I can write like that better)
(also sorry for my weird similies)
He stood there in front of the mirror, somehwat awkwardly, observing himself. He was 5'6 - no idea why he had that memorized, but oh well - and built like a tree. That is, if that tree was in fact not a tree but a stick with limbs. He had Fluffy red hair that fell to his shoulders when it was wet but rested normally a few inches above. How he hated that hair; Utterly untameable and never sat quite right. He had disproportionately long legs, not so much that it stood out normally, but if it was mentioned you could see it and when wearing skirts or shorts his long expanse of leg seemed to stretch on forever. He had very little muscle, and as he flexed experimentally in the mirror, he snorted - He looked like he was built with pencils. His shoulders and hips were the same width, that is to say quite narrow and somewhat awkwardly thin; it matched the rest of him, but he couldn't help but wish that he was bulkier. His neck was functional if not a little short. Attached to it, as with most humanoids, was his head. He wore thick rimmed round glasses both because they had to be with how thick his lenses were and they hid more of his face, which he was quite insecure about anyway. His ears were ever so slightly uneven, leading to his glasses never quite sitting right on his face and usually resting on his nose. Oh, his nose; the only thing he didn't despise about his face. Not that it was a specifically good nose - One of the nostrils were a bit bigger than the other and it was sort of small - but it looked the least weird out of all his facial features. Resting below his nose was a septum ring, the same black one he'd had on since he got the piercing only because he couldn't be bothered to change it. Continuing down past his lightly freckled face was his mouth, as was to be expected. He had pale lips to match his equally pale skin, the two only differentiated by a slight pink tinge on the former and the assumption that he was not in fact a snake and did have lips. He had eyebrows slightly darker than his hair, although to tell the truth he sometimes would use mascara to make them darker because of his fragile masculinity and his need to fit traditional male standards of appearance so as not to be misgendered. His face overall was the shape of one of those Japanese watermelons that had started to become squared but only very barely before escaping its clear plastic prison. He wasn't insecure about his height, but that didn't stop him from always wearing platforms; he just liked how they looked. He was currently wearing his favorite outfit, consisting of a black tank top that went a few inches up his neck, an olive and dark green striped button up not fulfilling its namesake over top, and some pale dark green cargo pants. He hated wearing jewelry, as it was just one more thing to lose, but he always had on a chain with a gold ring holding a small clock face; His partner had asked him out with it, and he kept it with him because he knew if he set it down in his dump of a room it would be lost to the ether the second he looked away. He also had his ears pierced, but rarely wore earrings and instead always had on a pair of headphones to help with the constant anxiety from noise. He had tried to wear headphones with earrings in the past but found it extremely uncomfortable. As he stepped back from the mirror, he realized his internal monolog was extremely monotonous, and decided to stop observing himself.
Thank you to @annotated-catastrophe for the original idea!!!!
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15-lizards · 8 months
Note
GENDER SWAP RENLY AND STANNIS OUTFITS PLEASSSS. And maybe Robert too
SISTERLY DYSFUNCTION WE LOVEEEEE even tho the character of Robert is kinda tricky bc his character is rooted in his manhood but fuck it we ball maybe we can just make Westeros a matriarchy #Feminism
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Fem Roberta (definitely named Roberta) (also the middle Katie McGrath pic is the fc) is the kinda the biggest lesbian bait ever. Non-dutiful eldest daughter set to inherit storms end but she does NAWT give a shit she wants to go play around in the Vale with fem Ned and drink and whore etc etc. Rides and fights like a man and even wears men’s armor but still dresses and (sometimes) acts like a noble lady when the situation calls for it. She’s not a tomboy who chafes at nobility she’s a rowdy noble girl who LOVES her status she loves excess. Charismatic girl who managed to get men to follow her into war to get back Fem Ned’s little brother even though she loves him like a prize. And she loves the idea of being connected to Ned more than that. But other than her homoerotic obsession with her best friend and she is totally and completely heterosexual 👍🏻
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Fem Stannis (Stana? Castana?) is kinda so Eva Green do we see the vision people. She’s a flop daughter who dresses like a utilitarian, very little room in her looks for comfort. Internalized misogyny for days bc she thinks if she were a son she could be so much better than her sister is. She’s kinda like if Cersei slayed a little less. When Roberta dies she can’t garner any support bc even though they were both women, her elder sister was always more persuasive and well liked, which is half the reason she became queen. So now she’s behind her bastard nephew and nieces who aren’t even related to her in the line of succession (let’s pretend masc Cersei and fem Jamie swapped the kids or smthn idk 😭). And her new red witch is not doing favors for the people who think magic = dark and womanly and evil. She’s such a flop and gay for the older pirate lady who saved her life and she can never do anything right ily girl
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And Fem Renly/Rena/Renia is kinda the baddest bitch in the seven kingdoms. She’s even prettier than Roberta was at her age, and just as charismatic, and far more agreeable, acting more like a “proper” lady. Though she rides as well as her eldest sister, and even took up the sword too, wanting to be a warrior queen when she was little. Her fits always go crazy, a fourth of the treasury at storms end is set aside for her favorite green enameling and gold accessories. She’s kinda the star of court and thinks Roberta has gotten lazy and Stana has too much of a stick up her ass to be a good queen. Ofc in true Baratheon fashion she has a gay who worships her like a god, her trusted lady-knight Lora Tyrell, who gives her the support of her house before she unfortunately gets merked. Rip queen I wish you could’ve been mean on the internet
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3terna15unshin3 · 3 months
Note
Would you ever consider writing about Matty & Este finding out their pregnant/having a baby?? Would love to read it if you’d be up for writing it!
hiiii thank u for the request, this will just be a rambly run on idea type of blurb!! fun fact - at the beginning of all this i had my heart set on them not having a baby bc este is me and i have never ever wanted kids and honestly don’t even like them very much (lol) … but it’s clearly something important to matty irl so after getting some requests (and also loving like the domestic and fluffy and sensitive ideas that it would bring on) i have reconsidered to satisfy the people🫡🫡🫡
so many authors on here write dad matty very well tho and much better than i ever could, like @yourtouchismidas’s Ruins universe / @toomuchracket's flatmate!matty dad and d word blurbs / @ughgoaway’s teacher au 💌💌💌 and so many more!!!!! i also have a pregnancy scare blurb here if u want to read that too! i hope u enjoy 🌟
tbsg masterlist // more blurbs
it happens after they get married and i think it wouldn’t necessarily be an accident, like este would pose the idea of her going off her contraceptive pill instead of switching to a different one (after her hormones start to have a bit of a hay day) and matty's up for it too. when they find out they’re over the moon. este expects to be scared or full of anxiety but it feels so right that they cry and smile and hold each other all day. it’s such a sacred moment/feeling so they decide to keep the news to themselves for the first couple of months. 
everyone in their life gets suspicious that este stops ordering cocktails at dinner and is always weirdly out of breath after doing anything barely physical but nobody is concerned enough to confront them about it. she wears baggy clothes (like matty's slouchiest band tees) while out and her bump starts to grow, but at home she doesn't bother covering up. a typical 'around the house' outfit of hers is a bralette top and her favorite jeans just with the zipper down and button wide open, tummy fully on display while typing away at a review on her laptop or snuggling up to keiko on the sofa. matty likes it, since he thinks she looks sexy and a certain energy seems to be radiating off of her that he can't seem to break his attention from. este's always catching him steal glances at the bump when he thinks she isn't looking. he sets his hand on it every night and rubs his thumb back and forth at a steady rhythm while talking about whether the baby will have his curly hair or her tan skin or his musical talent or her passion for literature. all of the above, hopefully.
she’s incredibly run down at the start so she spends lots of time in bed, which she hates. she wants nothing more than to go out to the cafe down the street, that they love, and sip on a matcha while he downs a cappuccino, and they share a warm pastry; but the baby makes her unable bear the taste of green tea and the noise of the espresso machine would probably start to drive her crazy. her attention span is suddenly split in half and she gets migraines ferquently so she's trudging behind on the list of books she needs to read.
it's tough, but matty's there to help. he appreciates that she's in bed so often because she has a habit of working herself too hard anyway. because his recent album cycle is over with, he can care for her and brush her hair and learn the order of her skincare routine so he can apply it for her when she’s too tired to do it herself. sometimes matty can tell the sickness is extra bad and that este's just downplaying her pain for the sake of not bothering him so he scolds her and treats her like a princess until she can't help but smile in pure adoration. people begin to notice that she isn’t spotted much in public at all and maybe even breakup rumors swirl around the internet.
the months they spend with their little secret are so precious, but they begin telling family when the baby grows to big to hide. it’s the best news of the year. everyone close to them finding out makes it feel so real. they receive little baby grows as gifts from cate and georgia, este’s dad helps them fix up a nursery in the spare room, and denise begins buying them diapers way too early. matty and este once discuss how lucky they are that their little one will be surrounded by such a village of love and they deliriously sob together at the thought of it. 
i think they’d announce it to the public by posting a cute candid taken by charli or george. it’s from the rare time este feels well enough to go out on a little doggy play date/walk through the park so the four of them do that. the pic shows matty and este sitting cross-legged on the grass with keiko in matty’s lap, her tongue sticking out (like it always does when she’s excited). este’s bump pokes out of the bottom of her jumper and they’re both mid-laugh and looking at each other with squinty eyes. the caption is something cute and casual like ‘healy x 4’ or ‘spot the newest healy’ and fans go absolutely insane. there are plenty of news outlets that use their pregnancy as headlines too but neither of them read any of the many articles written because they couldn’t care less of what journalists had to say.
in my heart matty is a girldad, so when it’s time to find out the sex, the doctor shares it with them right away. the two of them think gender reveals are stupid so they don’t have one. they begin building a little personality for her, like when este would eat something that she usually loves but now makes her sick, matty jokes and says "of course she isn’t a mushroom type of girl. i could’ve guessed that from a mile away," and este rolls her eyes. he’d call out phrases like "my girls! i’m home!" when coming back through the front door after a trip to the shops and este would pull the "you’re really outnumbered now, you know… 3-1…" card whenever they disagree about something. 
they also accumulate tons of storybooks that they like to take turns reading to the bump before bed every night. because they're so pretentious they go for classics like the velveteen rabbit and corduroy and anything by shel silverstein. matty always chooses the longest ones so that he can spend as much time as possible talking to her. he brings his lips all close to make sure the baby can hear him and sometimes does silly voices. when they make este giggle, her tummy vibrates with laughter and sometimes they’ll feel her kick or shift and it’s something they look forward to every day.
throughout the whole pregnancy, every couple of weeks, matty would snap a picture of the two of them (or three, i guess) standing in the full length mirror in their bedroom. they both stand profile to show off este’s growing belly, her in front, matty’s chest pressed against her back. they hold hands and she rests her empty one on her stomach, while he uses his to take the photo with a fancy point and shoot camera. the roll of film he shoots on is full of pictures and he only takes it to get developed after the final one is taken. the last of the roll shows este, now a couple weeks postpartum, with matty still holding her from behind, but this time she cradles baby dorothy in her arms instead of her pregnant belly. 
it becomes their favourite picture ever taken, so even though they’d agree to keep her identity private and barely share anything the first few months, matty and este excitedly post it on social media to at least share that she was born and what her name is. it’s a carousel with the newest picture as the cover and as you swipe you can see a couple of the previous mirror pics where her bump gets bigger and bigger over time. his caption would either be cute like ‘our baby dodes was born on the 25th of jan x’ or ‘my favourite girls in the world (este.manansala and our little dorothy)’ or something really stupid like ‘became a friend to dorothy on the 25th of january (is this a coming out post or is my daughter is named dorothy ?? guess x)’ … get it??? bc ‘friend of dorothy’ means gay man lmfao i feel like matty would be annoying like that.
dorothy florence manansala healy is her full name. it’s a mouthful but they’d love that about it and it’s also a filipino tradition to make the mother’s maiden name a second middle name for the child, so that’s where that comes from. they went through hoards of them before settling on one combination. dorothy florence comes from a hodge podge of meanings like the D initial for denise, matty's early memories of the wizard of oz, their beloved florencia, and just the fact that they found them both on baby name lists and thought they were the prettiest. they call her dodie and dodes and dodiebaby and dot and dotty and doddle and even flossie sometimes (they hope that once she’s a bit older she can pick the nickname she likes the best, so they can just call her that, instead of having to choose between them all).
and frankly, they’re completely obsessed with her. she has big brown eyes and a full head of hair and chubby rosy cheeks. matty loves that she has este’s nose and long lashes and este loves that she has his curls and pointy chin. her eyes light up whenever her mum or dad is in her view and she learns to smile whenever they call her name (or any different iteration of it). 'song for our daughter' by laura marling comes on shuffle once in a while and it makes them weep now that they have one.
being new parents takes them on a million rollercoasters of emotions all at once but they make it through the tough times together. of course their families and the guys help out a bunch, especially hann and carly who then get baby fever and maybe consider having another to give baby hann a sibling and dodie another cousin. i think matty and este would be really great though, gentle most of the time but firm when needed and they work really well as a team. matty def would not be one of those dads who slacks off or thinks it’s babysitting to watch his own kid (ofc, bc ew), like he’d be so helpful and loving and thoughtful about caring for este and any struggles she may have postpartum just as much as caring for the baby. 
they try to split things as evenly as possible and all the love flows so freely and carelessly between the three of them, although i do imagine when dot is a toddler that she’s a bit of a daddy’s girl lol. maybe that’s just me being up matty’s ass but i could just imagine her always wrapping her arms around his leg when they stand together or being really excited to go pick out a birthday gift for him with este or being mesmerized by his singing voice and stuff like that. 
baby dorothy quickly becomes their best friend. she’s everything they could’ve ever dreamed of. 
anyway that’s all i could muster up for now, if you’re wanting more baby manansala-healy blurbs, i’d be open to write them, but i don’t really have anything specific in mind so i probably only will if i get some ideas in my ask box :)))) feel free to send some if you have any!!!
ok bye love u
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mvltisstuff · 11 months
Note
hello again, i’ve requested a few times (the feels and sweet nothing) and i was hoping i could request again? (i think i might add an emoji at the end bc i love your writing and will keep requesting as much as you allow ❤️❤️) anyway, i hope you’re doing well and things are going good.
i was wondering if i could request a buck fic where is partner is an artist and he finds a sketchbook of sketches of him and when he asks about it they talk about how pretty he is and how deserves to be appreciated and just making him feel super loved with it. thank you if you get to it and ofc no troubles if you don’t. take care 🥰
also is 🚒 good for a way to recognize me??
wasteland, baby! - e.b
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summary: request
evan buckley x reader
a/n: omg you always have such creative ideas! i love receiving requests so always feel free :)) 🚒 = ❤️‍🔥 i also won’t be posting as frequently for the next few weeks due to finals, but after that i’ll be posting a ton!!
buck had come over to y/n’s apartment after his shift for dinner, and the scent of thick acrylic paint and primer had stung at his nostrils. he began to love the smell, as he knew that it meant she was around. he had let himself in with his key, taking in all of the perfectly placed plants and artwork on the walls.
she had a canvas that was almost complete, with just a few finishing touches. buck had walked over to it to examine. her talent was extraordinary. he knew it was out of this world, and the way she was so proud of her pieces his made his heart swell up with love.
“hi, buck!” y/n says, beginning to walk out of the hallway from her room to her art. she was wearing a pair of dark green pants and a white t-shirt which somehow complimented her beautifully. her face had small specks of blue and red on her cheeks and black and grey streaks on her shirt. “sorry it’s such a mess in here, but doesn’t this look great?”
“no, don’t worry about the mess, but how long did that take? it’s amazing!” buck stutters a big, not being able to comprehend how art like that could come out of her hands.
“thank you, love,” she replies, taking his belongings and placing them down for him. “how was work today? anything good?”
“just a normal old day, but you know it’s the 118.”
“it is never normal at the 118,” y/n smiles and gives him a cheek kiss before going to wipe her face off. buck goes to sit down in her living room on the couch, and she follows behind him with a quick change of shirt. she placed a small pizza in the oven to cook for them, and cuddled up next to him while they told each other stories about their day.
“it was wild, y/n,” buck starts. “i mean this woman literally rose from the dead after like 15 minutes, after being under a street. oh! you’re going to love this- and we saved some puppies in a sewer.”
“oh my god, are they ok?”
“they’re all fine, but i’m not sure if we are right now.”
“what do you mean?” she asks, slowly and carefully.
“you don’t smell something burning?”
she takes a deep inhale and looks over to her smokey kitchen. it wasn’t too bad, but definitely enough to make it inedible. “shit! fuck, i forgot about it!” she says, bouncing the pan up and down while trying not to burn herself.
y/n was busy discarding of the pizza when buck looked over at her with joy. he had a cheeky smile on his face and was laughing at the forgetfulness of both of them. he looked back down in front of him and the coffee table, and he saw a book that y/n always has on her. she brings it to work, to her family, anywhere she goes, she has it. it was her beloved sketchbook, filled with hundreds of small doodles and big pieces. buck has seen a lot of things in it, admiring each one before he comes across a bookmarked section.
when he flips the pages of the book, he notices that the person that is sketched and shaded looks particularly familiar. he makes note of the sharp nose and soft, but hard jaw. he sees the famous birthmark on the side of his face. he’s never looking right on, though. he’s always focused on something or has a light grin on his face. buck knows these are of him, but he doesn’t think he had any importance to be the top drawing in her book.
y/n walks back in to greet her boyfriend, “i think we might just have to ord-“ she looks at the sketches that she had put on that paper. a heat rose up into her face, reddening her cheeks and making her feel a sense of embarrassment.
“a-are these me?” buck asks, quietly. y/n nods, slowly, praying that she didn’t make him uncomfortable and that she will see him again tomorrow. “i-um..”
“you don’t have to say anything, buck. i never meant for you to see those and if you don’t like them, i’ll never do it again i swear. you just, you’re so beautiful, buck. and i love to draw beautiful things.”
“i just don’t know what to say, these are so good. i feel like you know me more than i know myself,” he says, chuckling a bit.
“you like ‘em?”
“i love them,” buck says.
“good, i just couldnt stop myself. you are always so pretty, no matter what and i want you to know that, so i tried to convey it through this. i was going to show you eventually, but i wanted to do more.”
“why me, though? you could draw anyone,” buck asks.
“no one else is you! you might have a pretty face and all but there is really nothing more beautiful than your soul. you are filled with so much love and sweetness and i’ve been dying to find a way to show you, because you are loved, evan. i love you and i wanted to put my two favorite things together. not a day goes by where i have anything but love for you.”
suddenly, the feeling in bucks chest is rising stronger, feeling like it’s going to burst. when it does, he has strong riptides of tears in his eyes. with a pure smile on his face, he passionately leaves a kiss on her lips, and he feels loved for the first time.
growing up, his parents never showed him love. he always begged for it from everyone he knew, and now he feels like it isn’t deserved. but someone, y/n made him feel like he will forever be worthy of love. and he will never forget how she fixed him for the best.
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aroacesetitoff · 3 months
Text
OG Infinight Reference Sheet + Headcanons
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Marcy Burns/Elleve the Amender
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-4 feet tall
-its mentioned that she has "rainbow robes" and ive decided to interpret that as sunset colored
-pre mining accident Marcy has longer hair and has already lost her eye to unknown circumstances
-post mining accident Marcy cut her hair and it turned whiter, and she switched to more monochrome clothing-symbolizes her turning away from her faith and also grieving her husband
-still wears her wedding ring, and keeps Fred's on a chain with a locket of his picture
-we know literally nothing abt Fred but I think he was also a halfling and had a sick ass mustache
-the symbol on pre-accident Marcy's eyepatch + staff is supposed to be of the Diarians (followers of Dia). The circle is Faeza, the hands are Dia herself, and the six teardrop shapes are the Diagems. Also meant to resemble a flower as a reference to Gum Gum
-magic goblet-does it have a name? Anyways Paralyte stole it from the Sheerays so I gave it an aquatic wave/seaweed design (water = life)
-idk how to design tattoos, but other clerics of dia would probably have similar ones-i think hers are religious in nature
Ostin Tashe/Slique the Symphonius
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-ya boiiii
-4'6-so just barely taller than Bart. Barely
-had the most satisfying color palette for me- i love green and so does he
-i rewatched the hobbit/lotr trilogies so Ostin is def inspired by that-gave him braided hair and armor
-idk how a tuning sword works. Like a bident maybe? Ive drawn the sword in his right hand (the one with missing fingers) but he might prefer to fight left-handed. Idk ive trained with longswords before but ive never lost any fingers so i cant say
-magic lute-gave it a greener/mossier color palette to show it was from the Elderpines. The strings are vines and the rosette has a tree design
-dont know where Ostin's scars came from either, maybe he really did fight a dragon maybe he didnt-doesnt stop him
-post-Wight Winter i gave Slique a grey streak to match with Spectril
-also gave him a cool colored eye highlight for the same reason
Leonard Lank/Spectril the Surreptitious
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-i put his height around 5'7/5'8
-made the rogue armor sharp and dark-had to recolor it from the origianly palette bc it was too dark tho lmao. Fur collar to foreshadow his time in the Ethereal Plane
-post-Wight Winter i gave him simple, more homey clothes bc at that point he had a family and wasn't focused on fighting. The fur is not bear fur i swear
-already mentioned it before but his hair started turning white + he grew it out/braided it back.
-he's got normal rogue daggers, and then the Ethereal daggers. Not shown but yeah they fade in and out of the Material and Ethereal Plane
-"Walls Have Ears-Doors Have Eyes" by Clan D. Stine-the wiki i think mentioned him having books that let him turn invisible and walk through walls-this one's definitely a Leitner (ifykyk)
-boots-deceptively simple in design from the Elderpines
-piercings include several ear piercings, snake bites, and an eyebrow piercing
-warm colored eye highlight to match with Slique-your honor i have (accidentally) sun/moon coded then because they are gay
Luz Prattle/Paralyte
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-6'0 tall and definitely uses it for intimidation
-i think she dresses kinda emo/alt
-the only infinight with a unique logo-instead of two crossed swords its a snake eating itself
-committing to the snake bit-i gave her scale armor
-the gloves have two talons on the pointer and middle finger, based very specifically off a homebrew item i saw where the hand kind of looks like a biting snake. It contains a venom that paralyzes enemies and came from the Sheerays
-put a snake on her sword. Cause why not. Thats why she teamed up with Brink they are both snake lovers
-not drawn, but she would have a snake tattoo somewhere on her body
-hands are turning dark at the fingertips as a side effect of using the gloves so often. Her veins are visibly green because shes pale as hell and also suffering from long term exposure to Sangrianite
-facial scar-man im sorry i dont know where this one came from either. Kyborg shot her once tho i do remember that
Bo Bender/Grislee the Groundbreaker
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-height is about 6'6, very tall lady
-all i had to go off was red bandana so its like her thing
-her locs are made of rocks and also have veins of gold in them
-the stuff on her shoulders and hammer are lichen-she takes such long naps outside they've started growing on her. And also earth genasi
-when shes raging she has magma veins coming from her eyes and hands, and the inside of her body also glows
-when shes not raging it cools to golden veins-still very hot to the touch sometimes
-didnt have a lot if ideas for her second outfit but i gave her a bearskin bc she is "grizzly"
-hammer is the other item from the Sheerays and is pretty much just a trunk on a stick in terms of design. Combined with the lute tho, they are probably some of the most powerful items in Faeza
Man thats a lot of characters. Should i have made these before I made 3 painting and a comic page? Yeah. But i didnt lol. Enjoy✌️
edit: fixed the magic item origins
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riptide0602 · 4 months
Text
Ninjago hcs
Kai's(Smith-Jiang family's) eye color hcs:either amber,brown or sea-green eyes just like Maya's,while Nya has brown(I think this one is canon) and Ray has amber/brown eyes
After unmerging with the sea Nya's eyes started changing colors to match the nearest body of water:sea-green when near the ocean,grayish when near something like a bottle of water or sink water and etc.They will also turn glowing blue when she uses her powers on a large scale (they once turned blood-red bc she was treating an injury and blood has water in it)
Post-Crystallized:sometimes parts of her body would turn into liquid during the adjusting to being a human again(during which her eyes would be white like the foam)
After unmerging with the sea her powers became even more stronger and easier to control.After all,Nya was one with them for an entire year
The reason Nya couldn't get out the water in Jay's lungs during Seabound was because all of it kept responding,including blood and the water in Jay's body and she couldn't risk drawing out too much water and/or blood to help Jay
Pixal has Jay saved in her contacts as "extra charger"
The pink clothes Nya wore during Prime Empire shorts were given to her by Cole(they used to be Lilly's)
Nya makes the best coffee,not even Zane can match her skill there and surprisingly enough, Cole is a close second when it comes to drinks
The public didn't know Nya used to be Samurai X until a new one showed up and ninja had to answer some questions during interviews
Kai is a history nerd
All the ninja know basic first-aid,though Nya and Zane are the best medics.Kai is/was good with taking care of dragons
For a while after he learned that he was a nindroid,Zane didn't know how his body functioned beyond the basics.It's after HoT that he started learning more about himself instead of relying on Pixal,Jay or Nya all the time
All the ninja wear a bracelet that is made of interwined threads of their colors (gray for Nya,purple for Pix,gold for Wu and the rest are obvious)
Nya loves animals(this one is based on Wu's teas ep and how she seemed to like Zippy in the Island)
All the ninja+Pix see Wu as a father figure(even if some of them already have fathers)
Same with Misako
Mrs.Benedict constantly scares Lloyd by appearing out of nowhere in the weirdest places
Mrs.Benedict loves Nya and Pixal the most out of the entire group
After Seabound-Crystallized Nya always smells like sea and the salty air of the beach
Wu and Misako are best friends(the love triangles/angles in ninjago are a pain,so I'm ignoring them),but when it comes to history they're rivals worse than Oni and Dragons,FSM and Overlord combined.It's always fun for the ninja to watch their debates(especially when Misako is right bc those are the times when Wu says that he was there when the events happened)
Garmadon and Maya were best friends,same with Ray and Wu
Wu is Kai's godfather,Garmadon and Misako are Nya's
Wu anonymously helped Smith-Jiang siblings when he heard that their parents were gone,but he didn't take them in for two reasons: he wasn't doing well after Garm's banishment and he didn't have a legal identity to prove that he could take the siblings(not that it would have stopped him,but the first point stands)
Jay and Nya weren't in a relationship until s6, they weren't a couple during or before s3,but did go on dates or hangouts
Nya has a green burn-scar thing from Tiger Widow venom
Nya misses being a part of the sea and hates herself for it
Zane sometimes missed the cold of the Never-realm and how close he was to his element as Ice Emperor
Nya still has marks all over her body from merging with the sea and sometimes they glow
Elemental masters are naturally more durable and stronger than humans(the reason Cole managed to survive the Oni clouds) and once they master their powers,they age slower too (they look younger than they actually are)
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ask2pame · 29 days
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regarding your rant on frances design: TELL ME ABOUT IT. tbh i think all the designs peaked with beautiful world, and everything after that was just...discount budget versions of whoever theyre supposed to be. the beautiful world designs are GORGEOUS on their own, but compared to world stars? theres no contest. some designs i do like, like england looks nice, if not a little too polished, and portugal is really cute, but everyone else just got twinkified and butchered. and i love a twink! i do! but they look like they could be swapped out with my little pony designs and it wouldnt make a difference. france to me will always be a blonde with a ponytail, a little unkempt, with chest hair and stubble and flamboyantly manly with a touch of tragedy. thats france to me. not whatever waif they cooked up in the more recent series
// ok ok i can't tell if u mean like ''oOOOh tell me about it' as a phrase or u actually are inviting me to tell you about it but i'm going to take it as permission to ramble <3 but im putting it under the cut so i dont spam
okok so UR SO RIGHT i think the new designs are so OFF... like it kinda lost the plot. the characters are all weirdly polished?
ok im just gonna run down the characters i have a lot of thoughts about CUZ my god
ENGLAND!!! its gotta be beautiful world
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cuz the early seasons england gets his crankiness on point but this design fits just how cranky and posh(?) he is, like he dresses like an old man and wears outdated 'punk' fashion, he drinks tea like an old lady.. it fits hes cute and expressive.
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this england isLOSING hair where did his EYEBROWS GO!!!! thats HIS WHOLE FUCKING CHARACTER but also i really dislike the change from him going from a dirty blond to a bleach blond... doesnt work...
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i want my man to look like he has a nicotine addiction, rugged and smug as shit. i think they leaned too hard on the 'tsundere' trope for him cuz hes not puffy cheeks with pouty lips hes an old man with a laundry list of war crimes
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ROMANO
ok. this one is a little hard cuz romano is good in ever season but he has these little minor changes that drive me CRAZY but my favorite will always be the earlier seasons
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this ver of romano was a NASTY bitch he just showed up to be an asshole and i love it so much , i love his hair being dark brown with brown eyes ok , at the minimum his design fit his voice...
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for beautiful world i think hes cute but i really don't ? like his eyes being green? like i dont know it just never felt right to me:( i like him having brown eyes
and later his design leans into the prev but when u look at him u don't see that one guy who REALLY doesn't wanna be here hes . too soft?
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and the newer romano does have the bad attitude but now he's suffering from the 'progressively becoming a ginger' syndrome that a lot of hws characters have now
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RUSSIA
my pick for him is all over the place bc i think his new design is SO FUCKING CUTE like i wanna bite him and crocodile death roll him but i think he is SUFFERING from cuteness.... hes so . soft?
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earlier seasons of russia showed up just to say some morbid shit and be brutal as fuck but he could also lean into being cute, thats his whole gimmick, cute but scary. his current design is cute with no threat.
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i think beautiful world had that balance between cute and scary, he was cute and say mean shit like before and was ready to throw down any time america showed up, thats his whole deal. and you know at the bare minimum he's supposed to be fucking BIG and world stars makes him look like a fucking twink
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SPAIN
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beautiful world was WORKING to make spain look good, he was ugly . he was boring. and then he walked in with a new tan and a warm hair color and the cutest smile (tho its hard to find pics of spain in these seasons cuz hes younger in a lot of them) and then it's just
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what the hell happened here. i feel like im going insane but did his skin tone get ashy? like it looks more grey. and i know saying spain is 'tan' is generous but what the fuck happened. why did all his colors dull, why is his hair so . boring. where did the body mass go, where did the attitude go... world stars spain is very 'head empty' and not in a good way ....
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CHINA
one of the most overlooked characters but i love him
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i think my favorite ver of him is still his original cuz i preferred him with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes and he's side part... it was so cute... and they swapped it for a middle part .... </3
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like he was so cute ;; plus i preferred him as this kinda irritable older know it all character, like he was groaning and huffing and did NOT want to be there. but then he kind of got? infantalized(?) i think they wanted him to be cute but idk if china is considered one of the ancient nations by its own rules, then can we tone down the :333 factor on him a bit
like just comparing but this might be me raise hands at hima for this characterization. what did you do to my boy
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like do u see it. am i crazy
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these bitches
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these 4 just suffer from success in their OG and the beautiful world just made them way better (except i miss italy's darker hair </3) and then they just got handed bad animation in world stars
ok thats all i have time for rn BUT YEAH
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