#honestly pretty much everything I post falls under that tag..

[annwrites]

forever

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: you & billy go to a vegas casino. the next day, you have a scare & make a commitment.

— tags: ♡

— tw: gambling

— word count: 7,412

— a/n: while i am very proud of this entire series so far, there's just something more about this post for me. I actually cried while writing this one. i hope you all enjoy!

find my other posts concerning billy here

GIF by 62737462718star

The next day, you and Billy stay snuggled up in bed, watching TV—him, at first, changing the channel every few minutes as soon as you got interested in something just to drive you nuts—napping, eating, talking, and every once in awhile getting on each other’s nerves just for fun. 

But, as you laid with your head on his chest and his fingers in your hair, you were completely content to fall back asleep listening to his steady breathing. The beat of his heart.

You wake in the middle of the night to Billy tossing and turning beside you, muttering unintelligibly. His brows are furrowed, body slick with sweat.

You cup his cheek in your hand, shooshing him, telling him to wake up.

And when his eyes do open, they're full of fear. He looks to you at his side and his face crumples. "Oh, baby doll," he says, burying his face between your breasts, wrapping his arms around you.

You twine your fingers in his hair, holding him to you. "It was just a nightmare. It's okay."

"I lost you," he whispers. "You...fuck, you stopped breathing. I-"

"Shh, it wasn't real. I'm right here. Shh."

You let him cry softly against your chest until you eventually coax him back to sleep by reassuring him over and over again that you're all better now. You're still here.

"I love you. Just try and go back to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up, okay?"

He nods, pulling you closer. "I love you, too."

While still a tad under the weather, you feel far better the next day. And are honestly itching to get out of the motel room, even if it's just to go sit outside or ride shotgun while Billy drives around, letting you sight-see.

You're just coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go, when Billy comes back into the room carrying breakfast with him.

He kicks the door closed with his boot—a brown paper bag held between his teeth, to-go cups in one arm, a couple more bags in the other.

He looks up to you with a raised brow as he begins setting everything down. He nods toward the bed. "Take all that off and get back into bed."

You come over to him. "I feel better today. I'm tired of being stuck in this room, Billy. It's been days now. Can we please go do something?"

You bat your lashes at him, pressing up against him and he groans as you slip a hand in his pocket. "Pretty please?"

Before he can tell you, yet again, to get back into bed, you swiftly remove your hand, his keys dangling from your fingers.

He sighs, holding out his hand. "Yeah, you're hilarious. C'mon, give 'em."

You back up a step, hiding them behind your back. "As soon as you promise to let me out of here."

He studies you for a moment. "Maybe in another day or-"

"No, today."

He crosses his arms, jaw flexing. "I said no. And that's final."

You step closer to him, reaching out for his hand, which he snatches away.

"No. Do...do you have any idea what you put me through? I thought..." He shakes his head. "Don't ever fucking do that again, alright?"

Your lip twitches. "I will do my utmost to never get sick again. I promise."

You press yourself against his chest then. "Now let me outside."

He sighs. "Only once you've had breakfast."

You snuggle closer. "Deal."

"If you so much as sneeze, I'm taking your ass back."

You roll your eyes. He'd been like this since before you stepped out the door. He'd even forced a thermometer under your tongue before letting you go out, which had read at a perfect 98.7°—a temperature that should've pleased him, but he'd instead frowned.

You'd tried making a joke about him just wanting to keep you all to himself for another day, but had known it was because he was terrified of you going back outside and getting sick again.

You turn in your seat to face him and run your fingers through his hair.

He fights against his lip twitching at the tender gesture. He sighs then. "Alright, where to? Unless you want me to pick?"

He looks at you then, a smirk now on his face. "We are in Sin City. Could always hit a sex shop, then head back and create our own entertainment for the day."

You lean over, kissing him deeply and when you pull away, he has a brow raised, thinking he's talked you into it.

"Nice try."

He leans back, rolling his eyes as he turns the car over.

"Billy, stop, we can't go in. This is ridiculous. They're never going to buy your fake; I'm sure they see them everyday."

Billy was currently pulling you alongside him...into Caesar's Palace. He'd gotten the idea to go gambling in his head, and not even offering to go to a sex shop to try on skimpy lingerie had managed to talk him out of it. You'd even threw in that he could finally cuff you to whatever he wanted and have his way with you if he just turned back around, but he'd not listened to a word.

You'd tried tugging unsuccessfully against his hand, unable to pull him back an inch in the other direction. He'd instead led you further inside. And, just when he'd thought—ignorantly—as he passed the hotel lobby, headed in the direction of the casino floor, he was about to get away with it, a large man dressed in a suit, who was probably twice the size of Billy, stepped in his way.

Billy didn't shrink away from his authoritative presence, but you might've hidden yourself just the least bit behind him as you glanced up shyly to the security guard.

"Somewhere you're headed?" He asks, voice a deep baritone tune.

Billy looks up at him with a bored expression, nodding behind him. "Got a few greenbacks that're just burnin' a hole in my pocket."

He goes to step past him, but the man side-steps, once again blocking him.

"ID card, pal."

Billy retrieves his wallet, handing him the requested piece of information.

He studies it with a raised brow, then looks at Billy. "Billy Squier? You really thought someone would buy that?" He tosses it back to him. "Go on, get out of here."

Billy shrugs, tucking his wallet back away. "Like I can help that we share the same name." He smirks, flashing him a dazzling smile. "The Stroke is a damn good song, though, ain't it?"

He glances to you, then back to the security guard.

The man chooses to ignore Billy then, honing in on you. "You got a fake for me, too? Let me guess: Stevie Nicks? No. Cindy Lauper."

You hold Billy's hand more tightly. "I-"

Billy interrupts you. "She left hers in the car." He lets go of your hand then. "Listen, man, what's it going to take? My money's good, ain't it?" He pulls out a wad of rolled up cash, counts out a few bills, then reaches forward, feigning shaking his hand, the bills disappearing in the other man's grip. "Just trying to show my girl a good time. What, you've never been young and in love before?"

"You ever been employed before, kid?" He shoves the money back against Billy's chest. "Go on, before I have to use force."

Billy gives him a glare before turning back around, wrapping his arm around your waist. "C'mon, baby, we'll go blow a grand at Circus Circus instead."

Somehow, you and Billy get lucky at the next casino. You show up just when the security guards are changing shifts and sneak right in. Your heart had been pounding, and you couldn't tell whether it was your palm or his that was sweaty, but you eventually come to wrap your arms around one of his as he weaves between slot machines and craps tables.

You glance around, lights twinkling in your wide eyes in the dim lighting, the room illuminated by colorful overhead chandeliers, and neon slot machines. There's even a section of the room that's modeled after a carousel.

You look up to Billy then, walking alongside him. "Can I play a slot machine?" You ask sweetly.

"Once I win at blackjack."

You frown. "Do you even know how?"

He stop, turning back to you. "Baby, I've got skills you've never seen."

You hook your finger on his black half-unbuttoned shirt. "That's likely."

He shakes his head. "Keep it up."

When he turns away, you smack his ass and he laughs.

You stand behind Billy, actually impressed. He'd not been lying about knowing how to play cards. While nearly every other person sitting at the table had eventually folded, or busted more times than they were comfortable with, and thus left with bruised egos, Billy's chips were just piling up.

You didn't like the way some people were eyeing his winnings, however.

You lean down close to his ear as he holds his cards close to his chest. "Billy, I think that's enough-"

"After this hand."

You sigh, frowning. "You said that twenty minutes ago."

He taps two fingers against the table and the dealer slides another card his way.

"Like I can help that I'm on a roll." He looks up at you, smirking. "Think you might be my little good-luck charm."

You shift on your feet. "You have way more than you came in with now. Can I please just go try a slot machine?"

He glances to the dealer and watches as he turns over a card and a smile breaks out across Billy's face as he throws his own cards down, slamming his fists against the table. "Woo! Winner winner, baby!"

He pulls more chips in his direction, which you grab in your fists, heading in another direction with them. You hear him curse from behind you, but quickly gathers the remaining ones on the table before following you to go cash in.

After finishing up with the casino’s teller, Billy securely pockets away a few hundred dollars, practically beaming from his winnings. He then hands you a five and nods toward the slot machines. “Go nuts.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Only five dollars?”

He leans down close to you. “You want more, guess you’ll have to blow me.”

Your expression then morphs into a scowl. “You’re so-”

“Y’know, my dice, when I play craps later?”

You turn your back to him, heading toward a slot machine. “That is so not what you meant.”

“Not my fault that my cock is all you can think about.”

After losing once, you’d been ready to burn the entire building down. But after a few times? You were seething. You yank on the arm one last time and it then demands more money.

“Oh, that is such bull. It took all my money!”

Billy glances to those few others who are seated at nearby machines and a muscle in his jaw feathers when he sees them looking your way as you continue to make a scene.

“I didn’t win once. This game is rigged. I want a different machine!”

He can’t believe you’re getting this upset over losing five dollars that hadn’t even been yours to begin with, anyway.

“Honey-”

“Don’t honey me, I want another five,” you state, holding out your hand.

He crosses his arms. “I think someone might have a bit of a gambling problem.”

The vein in the middle of your forehead makes an appearance—he’s never seen that trick before. “I wanted cherries. I kept getting fucking bananas and-”

He steps closer to you, needing to calm you before someone calls security. “Sweetheart, I will give you all the banana you want when we get back to the motel. But right now-”

“I said cherries! See, you’re not even listening to me.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Good Lord, you’re acting like a little kid. And he typically relied on you to be the mature one. Seeing you so pissed was funny at first, but now you were getting a bit scary.

“Alright, fine, I will pop your cherry when-”

You lean your head back, groaning. “Too late for that now, isn’t it?” You look at him again.

He finally reaches up, squeezing your cheeks until your lips are puckered. “You want to get us kicked out?”

“No,” you mutter through fish lips.

He smirks. You look adorable like this. So tiny and angry and your face all squished in his strong grip. Like a pissed off kitten. “If I give you another five, will you promise—if you lose—to control your temper, and behave yourself, and not be a sore loser?”

“Yes.”

He releases you, giving you the promised amount of cash.

“Motherfu-”

He yanks you up from the stool by your upper arm before you can finish that expletive. “Alright, time to go. You’ve had enough.”

“Just give me another-”

“Nope, you’ve had enough.”

“But-”

“No buts. C’mon. You’d leave us high and dry if I let you have your way.”

“You are so not getting lucky tonight.”

“Already did. Sounds like you’re the one who didn’t.”

“Oh, you son of a-”

Once the two of you are back at the motel, you’d thankfully calmed down. Billy was almost afraid to leave not just his money, but the keys to the Camaro anywhere you could get to them, lest you return to the casino for a second round. Third, really.

But, once you were in a bubble bath and softly humming to yourself as you washed up, he figured that you seemed well-enough over it.

After bathing, you stand over your bag of toiletries with shaking hands and wide eyes, your heart hammering in your chest as you stare down at a tampon that’d been hidden at the bottom of the bag.

You were late. Very late, by your standards. Your period had always been like clockwork. If it was ever ‘late’, it was by no more than a day. Ever. And even that was rare. Far and few between.

But today made five. The two of you had used protection every time. But…what if there had been a hole in one of the condoms? Or some of his semen had somehow leaked out or… That night on top of the Camaro. But he’d finished on your stomach. Not inside of you. No. This wasn’t happening. You were not-

“You about done in there? I need to take a piss.”

You jolt, dropping the plastic tube on the floor, staring at the closed door, unable to form a single word on your tongue. Until you manage to choke out, “Just a sec.”

“Gettin’ all dolled up for me just to go to bed?”

Your eyes sting with unshed tears. God, you want him to just leave you be for a few more minutes so you can collect yourself. Because right now? You felt on the verge of a hysterical breakdown.

You stare at yourself in the mirror. Your face had gone pale, all blood drained from your lips, your eyes wide and terrified. And you were shaking like a leaf.

You begin taking deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. Oh God, you felt like you were about to pass out.

It was nothing.

You’d been under a lot of stress lately, that was all. Yes, that made perfect sense. From the moment you’d left Hawkins, you’d been on a non-stop rollercoaster of emotions. All the traveling, the fighting, worrying about money, worrying about each other, worrying about the future, you getting sick—it was a perfect recipe for a late period.

And it was only five days. Just because it was always on time before didn’t mean it couldn’t be late now. Sometimes bodies were weird. They didn’t always operate how they were supposed to. Obviously, or so many diseases and disabilities wouldn’t exist. And stress could wreak havoc on the healthiest of people. So, you had nothing to worry about. Right?

“Sweetheart?”

You quickly gather your things, your stomach now in knots, shoulders tense, jaw locked tight.

You swing open the door and stare up at Billy. “All yours,” you say stepping past him.

A moment later, you hear him relieving himself. You let out a breath of relief that he hadn’t noticed you were upset.

You’d barely touched your dinner. Billy had noticed, but you’d used the excuse that you ‘weren’t all that hungry’. He’d stared at you for a moment before stealing one of your shrimp, telling you that he’d eat them if you weren’t going to. He hadn’t noticed your palm pressed against your stomach.

Once the two of you were in bed, you’d turned your back to him, trying to fight back tears. If…if you were…what would happen to the two of you? You’d felt so sure that you’d found the one now. But this… A baby would ruin everything. He’d leave you. This much he wouldn’t stand for, you were sure of it.

You were both eighteen. Kids yourselves. What the hell did either of you know about being parents? You wouldn’t have any idea of how to be a proper mother, you’d not been given an example of one yourself. And Billy had his history with his father.

You hadn’t had that talk yet: what you wanted when it came to kids. You don’t even know what it is that he wants. You don’t know what you want, either.

Just as your terror begins to grow, you feel his hand sliding along your hip, erection pressed against your back. You feel sick at the sensation of it. That part of him had destroyed your entire life. And now you would be the one forced to deal with the consequences. The fallout.

You’d been right to be abstinent before. This was his fault. He’d not stopped until he’d buried himself inside your head. Had pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled until you didn’t know where else to run but into his arms.

No. You can’t think like that. He loves you. He’d made some mistakes, but you understood why. Had chosen to forgive him. You loved him, too. And what if you were just getting yourself all worked up over nothing? What if you weren’t indeed pregnant, and causing yourself further stressed just delayed your period further?

Billy presses his lips to your neck, reaching under his t-shirt, which you’re wearing, cupping your breast. “Want me to help you get undressed, honey?”

You bite your lip until you taste blood, fighting back tears. “I’m really tired. Maybe not tonight.” You say it so quietly that he barely hears you.

He presses a soft kiss to the back of your head. “Told you that you should’ve stayed in bed. But no one ever listens to Billy.”

You don’t respond. You just take his hand, wrapping his arm around your waist, praying to God he doesn’t notice that your own is shaking.

You toss and turn most of the night, at one point locking yourself in the bathroom to cry while Billy sleeps, clutching your stomach, praying to God that you’re not what you think you are. If you were, and he did leave you, what would you do? Where would you go? Everything would fall out from under your feet then. You’d have nothing. No one. He was your entire world. Everything. He was everything. Your everything. You’d come to lean so heavily on him. To rely on him at every turn.

If he left you behind… You want to die at the thought.

The next morning, you’re exhausted. And Billy quickly takes notice over breakfast. Which you barely touch.

He brushes his foot against yours, reaching for your hand, concerned with the lost-in-thought look on your face. Were you getting sick again?

“Baby?”

You look up at him. “Hm?”

“You alright, angel?” He reaches up, pressing his palm to your forehead. You don’t feel feverish…

You nod slightly, looking back down to your cereal, which is now just a bowl of mush, stirring it.

“I think you’re still just getting over that cold. I should’ve made you stay in yesterday. How about you go lie back down and get some rest. We’ll just hang out here for the rest of the day. Alright?”

You nod, getting up, stripping, lying back down. You quickly fall asleep.

When you wake, the TV is on, the volume low, and Billy is sitting up, one arm around you, holding you close to his leg. You stare at the closed curtains, wondering what time it is, but don’t want to ask, because you don’t want to talk. Don’t want him to notice that something more is wrong than you just ‘being under the weather’, even if you knew you felt completely back to normal now. You don’t want him to keep digging until you’re finally forced to cave and tell him what’s really going on.

So, you close your eyes instead, forcing yourself back into a dreamless slumber.

Billy had let you sleep through lunch, but he now stands at the foot of the bed, frowning, considering whether to wake you for dinner. He’d gotten you a cheeseburger—one of your favorites—so he’s sure you’ll eat it.

He tucks some hair behind your ear, then gently shakes you awake.

“Dinner’s here, beautiful. Time to get up. Once you’ve eaten, you can go back to bed.”

You moan against the pillow, wishing he’d just left you be. You didn’t want to eat, because the moment you opened your eyes, your stomach was twisting into knots again. But you fight the feeling of nausea down, telling yourself to, at the very least, act fine. Pretend like you feel as much.

You sit up, smiling slightly at him.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face from his view. “Better.”

He sighs. “Good. That’s good.”

He leads you over to the table and you force every bite down.

Billy makes another sexual advance that night, shortly after laying down. He slips his hands between your legs. “I can do all the work tonight, if you want?”

You’d simply pressed yourself into his chest. “Could you just hold me instead? Maybe…maybe tomorrow.”

He’d remained silent as he slid his strong arms around you, holding you close, whispering that he loved you and to get some more rest. That he was sure you’d feel better in the morning.

You do not, in fact, feel better in the morning. More rested than the day previous, yes, but your nerves are fried.

You’d raced to the bathroom to…expel your bowels from nerves at least twice in the night, and now your stomach was truly on empty. But just the thought of eating made you feel sick.

Currently, it’s morning and you’re lying in bed awake, even if you’d rather not be, listening to Billy quietly snore beside you. You sit up, staring down at him, trying to memorize every line and facet of his face. His body.

Before you loose him for good.

Tears sting your eyes at the thought of being alone again. Though, you won’t be totally alone, you suppose. If you are…that…will it look like you or him? Will it have his eyes? His beautiful head of hair? You don’t think you can bear it: having to look upon a perfect reflection—reminder—of him every day, knowing he’s never coming back.

How could you have let this happen? What if you got rid of it instead? Somehow, that thought makes you feel worse. A little bundle that’s equal parts you and him…gone. Just as a tear slips down your cheek, he begins to wake.

You quickly wipe it away, smiling as he opens his eyes, looking up at you, stretching.

He reaches a hand up to your cheek, cupping it. “Morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“You been up long?”

You shake your head. “I just woke up a couple minutes before you did.”

“Admiring your sleeping beauty then, huh?”

You smile at the sarcastic comment. “Most certainly.”

He slides his other hand up your thigh, stopping close to your heat. “You want to?”

You shift under his touch. How to tell him no yet again? You’d not been intimate in days, and you worry that continuing to reject him will only serve to hurt him, if not make him suspicious. But the thought of him buried inside of you right now… You simply can’t.

He notices your silence and his smile fades. “Guess not.” He removes his hand, getting up from bed, nervously running his hand through his hair. “I’m gonna go take a leak,” he says, padding over to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Your chin wobbles, knowing you did it anyway: hurt his feelings.

Billy lays on the horn, waiting for traffic to move. He glances to you then, who is busy staring out your open window. He knows something is wrong. But you won’t tell him what.

He reaches over, sliding his hand up your leg and his ego takes a hit when you recoil at his touch. He sighs, resting his hand back on the shifter. “Come the fuck on, man!” He shouts at the line of cars in front of him.

He then looks back to you. “What? Are you still sick?”

You clasp your hands. “No. I’m just…tired.”

He leans his head back, rolling his eyes. “Heard that a lot the last couple days. Don’t know how. It’s not like we’ve screwed much recently.”

In all honesty, he didn’t really care about that. He was fine with waiting on you. It was the fact you were keeping something from him that was starting to really get under his skin.

You begin to shake from anger then. “After everything, and that’s still all you think about. Not like I should be surprised. Since we met that’s all you’ve thought with is what’s in your pants.”

He jerks his head in your direction. The two of you hadn’t fought like this in a minute. “Excuse me?”

“You want to get laid? We’re in Vegas. Go pick up some hooker on the strip. You should have enough for it after the other night at the casino, I’m sure.”

He grips the wheel tighter. “The fuck is your problem? Huh? You got somethin’ you want to say to me?”

You look at him and his expression softens when he sees the tears gathering in your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you say, voice breaking, burying your head in your hands.

He unbuckles, reaching over, wrapping his arms around your trembling frame. “Shh. Baby, please tell me what the fuck is going on. Did…did I do something?”

How to say yes and no?

You look up at him then, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’m late.”

His brows furrow. “Late? Late for wha-”

His face falls, all color draining from it and quickly, leaving him lightheaded. He remains calm, as calm as he can manage—for the moment. “How late?” He asks, deathly serious.

“F-five days.”

“And the latest you’ve ever been is?”

“A day. And rarely, at that.”

He stares at you for a moment, then swerves onto the shoulder, parking, and quickly getting out, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck! Motherfuck! Why does this shit keep happening to me? It’s going great one minute, then it all just turns to shit!”

You turn away from the window then, refusing to listen to anymore as you begin to sob, clutching your stomach. You reach forward, toward the dash, now hyperventilating, trying to catch your breath, your ears ringing.

A moment later, Billy gets back in the car, forcing his way back into traffic. “We’re not going to freak out until you’ve taken a piss test and we know for sure.”

Both of you stand in the family-planning aisle of a CVS, staring at their plethora of a selection of pregnancy tests. Billy reaches forward with a shaking hand, grabbing a two-pack in a pink box.

“Should…do you want this one?” He asks, looking at you.

You shrug, lower lip trembling.

He puts it back, grabbing a blue box next. “This one sounds like it should be fairly accurate. Ninety-eight percent.” He tosses it back onto the shelf. “Why the fuck are there so many? What’s the goddamn difference? I mean, Jesus, it’s like buying condoms. I mean, the things are supposed to be fuckin’ fool-proof, right? Why make shit that leaves you guessing in a situation like this? It’s ridiculous.”

You stay quiet, knowing he’s talking more to himself than he is you.

He picks the blue box back up, grabbing your hand in his other, leading you up front to the register.

Billy tosses the test onto the counter and the older woman behind it eyes up the two of you as she scans the box, telling Billy his total.

You just stare at the floor as he pulls out a bill, telling her to keep the change. Then, “You all have a public restroom?”

Billy waits outside the door as you go, silent tears slipping down your cheeks as you place the cap back on the test and set it on the sink, waiting.

It’s maybe two minutes later before his patience has worn through and he pounds on the door, making you jump. “What’s takin’ so long?”

You walk over, cracking the door open, staring up at him. “It takes fifteen minutes.”

His brows raise. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” He barges in, shutting the door behind him. “Why the hell don’t they put that on the goddamn box?”

“They did,” you reply quietly, showing it to him—right on the front. “See?”

He snatches it away from you, staring at it like it’s his own worst enemy, then tossing it in the trash.

He begins to pace back and forth in the small space, hands on his hips. You stand silently against the wall, watching him.

“I can’t believe this is fucking happening. This—coming out here—getting to California. It was supposed to be a new fucking start and now… I’m eighteen-goddamn-years-old. I can’t be a dad yet. I’m not ready. I mean, Jesus, I don’t know that I want kids ever. I can’t stand ‘em now. Annoying little shits. And they’re expensive as hell. Even if you think you’re ready, you’re fuckin’ not. We don’t even have a place to live. What? Am I gonna stick a crib in the fucking backseat of the Camaro? Fuck!”

When he looks at you, his heart drops.

You’re standing against the wall, shaking, tears streaming down your face, biting your lip, both hands clutched over your stomach, your face pale. “I’ll get rid of it,” you whisper.

Then you continue, “Oh God, what’s happening to me? I can’t…I can’t do this alone. What am I supposed to do? How…how am I going to live? What will happen to my baby?” You hang your head, truly sobbing then.

You thought he was going to leave you? Alone? To this?

He steps over, quickly wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry. Baby, I’m right here. Sweetheart, look at me.”

He takes your face in his hands. “Angel, I’m not going anywhere. If you are…it’s not like I didn’t play a part in it. You should know by now that I’m in this for the long haul. That you’re it for me. I know you deserve better than me. You always will. But I’ll try my best, alright? To be a good dad. I had a shitty fuckin’ example, but maybe I can learn from his mistakes. I’ll take care of you.”

He presses a palm to your stomach then. “Both of you. We’ll…we’ll get married. I’ll be better than he was. I have to be. You deserve that.”

You blink up at him, speechless. Had…had he just proposed? “You…want to get married?”

He smiles, kissing your forehead. “It’s the right thing to do. But I’m not getting’ down on one knee, if that’s what you’re expecting. Not in this nasty fuckin’ restroom, anyway.”

You glance to the test. “I think it’s been enough time now.”

You walk over to it and fill with relief—joy—when you see the minus sign. You double over the sink, laughing lightly. All that stress and for nothing. Nothing at all. “Oh, thank God!” You laugh some more, feeling like all is right with the world again. “I’m not pregnant. We don’t have to get married now! We can just-”

You stop talking when you turn around and see Billy isn’t nearly as elated as you are. Not even smiling. Nor is he looking at you. Instead, his hands are gripping the metal support beam behind him, eyes trained on the floor.

“I-”

He quickly brushes past you then, wrenching the door open. “Let’s go.”

Once the two of you have returned to the motel, he still hasn’t spoken another word to you. He’d gone in the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, even going so far as to lock as it while he showered.

You’d pressed your ear up against the door, listening, trying to ensure he was okay, but could hear nothing over the sound of water.

So, you’d sat on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting, thinking of how best to apologize for what you’d said. You’d just been so sure that he would be relieved as well. He’d said it himself: that he wasn’t ready for a baby yet. Then you wonder…had it been your comment about marriage that had upset him?

Was…was he ready for that? Were you? But when you think of it: wearing a ring he’s chosen for you, taking his last name, vowing to spend your life next to him—it doesn’t fill you with fear or doubt or unease. It fills you with love. Joy. A feeling of security.

When Billy emerges quite some time later, he tries to hide it, but you see it: his eyes are bloodshot.

Your heart breaks, now knowing what’d taken him so long.

He had been crying.

You pad over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle as he chooses a t-shirt for bed. He doesn’t do that, though—wear pajamas to lie down next to you. And now he suddenly feels the need to shield himself from you?

You press your cheek to his bare back. “Did you mean what you said about getting mar-”

“Just fuckin’ drop it, alright? You’re not knocked up, so now we don’t have to get hitched. Let’s just go to bed.”

“But-”

“Like you’d want to anyway.”

“I do.”

He freezes. Suddenly imagining you saying those words in a different context. He slowly turns back around to you. “What?”

You stand on tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his damp curls. “I want to if you do.”

He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “Really?”

You smile, nodding. “I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t thinking. I was just relieved that I wasn’t pregnant. I…I’m already yours in every other way. Why not this one, too? Billy, no one else is ever going to love me the way you have—do. Just like you, I don’t want anyone else. You’re what I want. I can’t imagine having to start over with someone else after…after all of this. The thought of losing you…it was tearing me apart. Having to think of living a life without you in it…”

You trail off for a moment, swallowing the lump that’s forming in your throat. “I’ll marry you.”

His lip twitches and his eyes grow glassy. He then crushes you to his chest, holding you close, cradling the back of your head. “Okay.”

You and Billy are currently browsing through selections of gently-used clothing at a local thrift store, trying to pick out outfits to wear to the Little White Chapel. But every white dress you come across has something wrong with it: holes, tears, rips, yellowing, or it’s just a tad outdated or way too frilly.

Until you find a hanger buried behind numerous other items. As you look the dress over, you begin to smile.

You then wander over to Billy, who’s looking through men’s dress clothes and poke him in the back.

When he turns, a grin forms on his face. He grips the soft material, looking to you. A white babydoll dress, silver sparkles dancing against the overhead fluorescent lights. There’s even a matching veil.

“It kind of smells like mothballs,” you say.

He smirks. “Don’t worry, baby, you won’t be wearing it long.”

Once Billy had picked out a pair of dress slacks that he felt were a tad too tight—until you’d been unable to remove your eyes from his rear, and then he’d said they fit just perfect after all—as well as a white button-up shirt, he’d gone over to the lingerie and gotten lucky when he’d found you a garter.

The two of you then went up and you stood by his side, smiling up at him, as he paid for your purchases, then asked about changing in-store.

Once the two of you emerged from the changing rooms, even he was blushing. So, you’d taken his hand in yours, and headed back out to the car together.

“Can we stop at a pawn shop first?”

He glances to you. “For?”

You reach in the backseat, grabbing a shoulder bag, then pulling your dad’s Rolex out. “I want to trade this. For a ring. For you.”

He nods then, sniffling. “Course, baby.”

“What about that one?”

Billy shakes his head. “It’s fuckin’ hideous.”

You raise a brow. He was worse than a woman when it came to jewelry, apparently.

You squint, looking into the late-night pawn shop’s display case, then kneeling in front of it, practically pressing your face up against the glass. You smile, pointing, looking up to the middle-aged shop-keep behind it. “Can I see that one?”

He nods, unlocking the display from his side, grabbing the ring you’d indicated, handing it to you.

You grab Billy’s left hand, sliding it onto his ring finger. And it’s a perfect fit. A simple gold band.

You stare up at him.

He looks to the man. “Will the Rolex cover this?”

“More than.”

Billy looks back to you. “We’ll take it.”

Once the two of you are sitting in the parking lot of the small chapel, it’s only then that you notice Billy is shaking.

You reach toward him, but he quickly exits the car, making his way around to your side, opening your door.

He doesn’t look at you.

You brush your thumb over his lips, quieting him. “And I always came back. Or you came for me. Billy, neither of us is perfect. No one alive is. But…that’s the point, right? Of falling in love? Loving someone despite their flaws. Or…helping them through them. Not just giving up when things get hard. I know what—who—I want. We’ve both said it: that we belong together.” You press yourself against his chest and he wraps his arms around you, kissing the crown of your head. “So let’s go make it official. No one is ever going to love me like you do.”

You then reach up, cupping his cheek, taking one of his hands in yours. “Are you okay? We…we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. If you want to wait, I’m okay with that. As long as we’re together- ”

He shakes his head, his hand trembling in yours. “What if…what if I fuck this up? I’ve already done it enough times already. I nearly lost you back in Oklahoma and then again in Texas. What if I turn out to be just like him and I hurt you, or-”

He rests his cheek against your veil. “Okay.”

You pull back, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, full of love.

“Let’s go get married.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“And do you, Billy Hargrove, take this little lady to be your lawfully wedded bride? To have and hold tender and sweet, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, for riches—God willin’—or poorer, for better or worse, ‘till death do ya part?”

Being married by an Elvis impersonator was most-certainly going to be a story to remember.

Billy tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, his thumb tracing your jaw line, his other hand holding your right one. “I do.”

He reaches into his pocket, and when he pulls out his hand, a silver ring is held between his thumb and index finger.

Your brows furrow. He’d told you back at the pawn shop that he had your ring already covered, but refused to elaborate on how, until you were standing before one another exchanging vows.

He swallows thickly. “It was my mom’s,” he states, glancing to you, before sliding it onto your finger.

Unshed tears threaten to spill forth on both your parts.

“And do you, lil’ mama—Y/N—take this young stud, to be your hubby? To have and hold tender and sweet, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, for riches or poorer, for better or worse, ‘till death do ya part?”

Your lip trembles as you stare up, into Billy’s beautiful, warm eyes. “I do.”

You slide the gold band you’d purchased less than half-an-hour ago onto his finger once again.

“Then, by the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada and the Lord Almighty, I do so pronounce you husband and bride. Now, my good man, kiss your lady.”

Billy leans down, cupping the back of your head, and crushing his lips to yours.

A woman who also works at the chapel snaps a few pictures of the two of you kissing, holding one another, and beaming up at each other and at the cheap disposable camera she holds in her hands.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

After the two of you exited the chapel holding hands, laughing, even crying a little, you’d gotten back into the car and Billy had driven you to a bar, insisting on having some form of a reception, even if it was just the two of you. In reality, he deeply wanted to have his first dance with you.

You stand in the middle of the room—the place near-empty; it was a tad dingy and small—waiting for Billy to select a song from the jukebox over in the corner. You know he’s found whatever he’s looking for when a small smile comes across his lips.

He comes back over to you, taking one of your hands in his, leaning his forehead down against yours just as Bob Dylan begins to hum the beginning of Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, resting his other hand against the small of your back, pulling you in close.

You close your eyes, reaching up, tangling the fingers of your other hand in his hair, swaying back and forth with him to the slow song.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You open your eyes, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks as you press your lips to his own. “I love you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When the two of you return to the motel, Billy leaves the door to the room open, blaring the song Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey from the car’s stereo outside, tugging you up on the bed with him and the two of you begin to jump up and down on the mattress, holding onto one another, smiling, laughing, happier than either of you ever thought you could be. Would ever be.

He crushes his lips to yours, holding your face in his hands. He pulls back. “Promise me that you’re mine for forever.”

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Forever.”

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader) #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

[whump-queen]

My brain fucking melts for a whumpee struggling to make eye contact—

When they avert their eyes in shame, when their cheeks grow hot and they can’t look whumper in the eye—When Whumper grips their jaw and forces them to look up, relishing in how unsettled they look from even a second of eye contact. 

“Does this put you on edge?” 

Whumper keeps a tight grip on their jaw, tilting their head to the side, inspecting their face, smiling the whole time.

“You know your eyes don’t belong up here. It feels unnatural, doesn’t it?”

“I—yes, sir.”  

Whumper smiles at the quiver in their voice, the way their eyes automatically drop when whumper releases their jaw. 

“Where does your gaze belong then, hm?”

There is no hesitation this time.

"..At your feet, sir"

.

(dual brainrot w @unorganisedalienrubbish)

#conditioned whumpee #bad eye contact whumpees my beloved #nervous whumpees my beloved #too fucking well trained whumpees my beloved #broken whumpee #creepy/intimate whumper #honestly pretty much everything I post falls under that tag.. #akia.txt #my prompts #idk what to tag this #whump tropes #whump prompts

[korebringerofded]

I Can See You- Joel Miller X F!Reader

Summary- Your father is the boss of a major crime family that developed after the apocalypse. Life is pretty safe and boring until your fathers new associate, Joel Miller starts coming around and he starts to change everything.

Tags- Post apocalypse, pre!Ellie, one use of Y/N?

Warnings- Age gap, mutual pining, language, smut, mostly future smut, dirty thoughts, sexual situations and dialogue. Joel being hot and protective

Words-3500

Author Notes- Definitely doing a part two for this bad boy. I promise the next one will have so much damn spice I just gotta edit lol.

Thanks for checking out my stuff! Requests are open

Reblogs and comments are very nice please and thanks

I wanna do a whole Joel series with Taylor Swift songs soon so if anyone would like that please let me know!

Please do not copy, use my work, or put it through AI without my permission or I'll be really sad about it.

As much as you would have loved to have just forgotten this embarrassingly huge crush you had, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to get the image of your fathers newest associate out of your head.

You honestly should have known better, considering the first time you heard the name Joel Miller was regarding how dangerous he could be, how rugged and cold. He had apparently been caught smuggling some supplies around your fathers territory and by the end of it all a deal was struck and just like that Joel was working for your father.

It was the first time that you came in contact with him that really doomed you to fall for him so completely. You couldn’t say what exactly it was that drew you to him at first, he was handsome, obviously, and incredibly dangerous, maybe that danger is what made him so tempting to you, he was forbidden and a part of you liked that.

The first time you met Joel in person was a few weeks after you had first started to hear rumors of him around the compound. He was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee as you stood in the doorway, a bit shocked by the unknown visitor. He was…terrifyingly handsome, sharp jaw, scruffy beard, deep pools of brown eyes that you could get lost in. His salt and pepper hair that was perfectly messy matched his casual dress, jeans, work boots, plaid shirt. You stared at him for a moment, chewing at your lip before finally saying something. As his eyes settled on you, still in your pajamas and messy hair.

“G-goodmorning, I’m (Y/N).” You struggled to steady your voice, failing miserably. 

“Joel.” He partially turned to face you, raising his hand up to wave as he gave you a polite nod before going back to his coffee. You guessed he wasn’t really much of a conversationalist and tried to shrug it off before making your own coffee and retreating back to your room.

It went on like that for a few weeks, you watching him patrol the compound through your bedroom window, running into him when you both made coffee in the mornings, passing glances in the hallway

“You can’t walk around like that!” You sighed, setting your coffee on the counter behind you as you walked over to Joel and ghosted your small hands over Joel’s plaid shirt, it was a dark green and blue and was rather well worn with tears and it had been missing the middle button for years.

“I will be fine, darlin.” Joel snorted, rolling his eyes at you as he shook his head. “I don’t have any big dances comin’ up so I doubt anyone’ll notice.” Joel took a bite from the toast in his hand as he looked down at you, admiring your curves and glowing skin. 

Damn, he really needed to get himself under control.

“It most certainly is not fine.” You put your hands on your hips, scowling at him. “Take it off, I am fixing it for you.” You held a hand out expectantly.

Joel couldn’t help but do as you asked so after he chuckled and teased you just a bit longer he was unbuttoning the remaining buttons on his shirt before tugging it off and handing it to you as he tried desperately to ignore the way your delicate hands felt against his as they brushed for just a moment.

You went back to your room holding the shirt to your chest with bright red cheeks, the fresh pine scent just enveloped you as you held it close to your face to breathe in his scent. 

Ugh, you totally were not getting creepy with this annoying crush at all.

It was the next morning and Joel was leaving his room in the compound when he felt his work boots knock over something and when he glanced down he saw a small shiny gift bag laying on its side.. He couldn’t help but grin and chuckle as he picked it up and pulled out his shirt, running his rough hands over your handiwork, not a hole or tear in sight and the missing button had been replaced with a shiny red one. It had never looked better. Something in him started to tear away then, such a small act of kindness. It just really got to him as he felt you start to warm the parts of him he had thought were cold and barren. 

When Joel stopped showing up for coffee you were more than disappointed as it had become something you secretly looked forward to everyday. The lack of seeing Joel seemed to only make your mind run in a circle of anxiety and embarrassment. He had taken up so much of your mind it was starting to drive you mad.

The next day you saw Joel it was probably the hottest day of the entire summer and you had taken refuge in the pool, a thin pink bikini covering your body, not leaving much to the imagination. It was damn hot and you honestly didn’t care, floating in the pool as you tried to ignore the blazing heat. You had been in the pool for a while, skin getting a bit pruny and eyes closed as you enjoyed the cool water.

“Hey! Care for some company?” A familiar voice made your eyes open quickly and in front of you on the edge of the pool was a curly brunette with wide shoulders and a toothy grin. Caleb, was one of the younger guards your father had hired recently and he was rather handsome, cocky and annoying, but still handsome and (most of the time) enjoyable.

“You do know if my daddy finds out your slacking off again there will be hell to pay?” You couldn’t help but giggle and tilt your head to the side. Caleb shrugged and sat his rifle down, untucking his shirt from his pants and starting to lift it over his torso. It was hard not to let your eyes wander at his tan toned body, and muscular arms. 

“He won’t be home for a while so-” Caleb’s cocky words folded into a yelp as he was dragged from the edge of the pool by the back of his neck.

“The fuck are you doing, boy? Get the hell back to work.” Joel spat, his thick Texas accent was so prominent now. Your eyes were so focused on Joel that you didn’t even notice Caleb grabbing his things and looking pale as a ghost while he ran off.

To be frank, Joel looked furious, his thick muscular arms bulged from his tight shirt as he stood at the edge of the pool, his sharp jaw tight as his arms were crossed over his chest. His dreamy brown eyes were now dark and stormy as he kept them locked on you.

It made you feel a bit meek and yet, you were also a bit pissed yourself.

“What is your problem?” You felt your cheeks getting hot as you started to get out of the pool, still dripping wet and hair reeking of chlorine as you stood in front of the scowling man. 

You hadn’t realized until now just how…huge that he was. His shoulders were broad, arms thick and rippled with muscles.His scent was thick and alluring, and being this close to him made your anger dwindle. 

“You shouldn’t be out here like this, kid.” Joel sighed, his eyes looking you up and down, his fists clenching and unclenching as his nostrils flared. 

“I am not a kid, and I really don’t need you to lecture me, old man.” You couldn’t help but jab at him, going to turn away before his rough hand gripped your arm tightly, his brown eyes staring intensely into yours.

There was a moment you were both frozen like that, his hand gripping your wrist. Joel honestly couldn’t help but rub his thumb over your wrist, gently drawing slow circles along your flesh. The water from the pool still dripped down your body and onto the pavement below, the sun beating down over your smooth skin. For a moment you swore you saw that cold demeanor melt away, for just a single moment before it was back and he was scowling again. Joel immediately let you go, turning away almost suddenly as he walked off. 

You hated to admit it but your heart lurched at the loss of contact and you stared at his broad shoulders as he walked away, wide eyed and cheeks a bright pink. It was hard to breath, hard to move as your heart beat echoed in your ribs and traveled through your whole body. You hated to admit how he was making you feel, it was confusing and sent waves of heat through your body as well as frustration.

Seriously, what was his deal?

He was really starting to take up a lot of your thoughts and the two of you had barely spoken aside from that day. It was starting to drive you nuts, you found yourself looking forward to running into him more and more as time went on. 

It would be two weeks before you saw Joel again as he was sent out on a job away from the compound (You knew better than to ask too many questions about specifics.) though you really couldn’t help but feel he was purposely trying to avoid you.

The evening sun poured into the kitchen as you sat at the counter, legs crossed as you flipped through the pages of your book. In all honesty you were desperately trying to distract yourself from thinking about Joel and his damn hands. The way he looked at you was unlike anything you had experienced before, it was intense and a little terrifying. 

You thought about those rough hands touching more than just your wrist, you thought of them dancing across your flesh expertly, back arching and breath ragged as his stubble ran across your chest and navel and lower until he was between your thighs, eyes hungry as his hands gripped your hips.

 Your thoughts were starting to consume you and you couldn’t help but audibly groan and let your head fall against the counter. 

“Uhhh..You okay there?” Joel’s voice cut through the room like a knife, his deep voice sent goosebumps over my neck and back. 

You were going to die of embarrassment, after all this time and he just shows up at the worst possible moment. 

You reluctantly sit up and turn towards him, cheeks a bit pink. 

“I'm fine- Woah.” When you faced him you felt yourself tense up. He had deep bruises on his jaw and his lip was busted open. “What happened to you?”

You didn’t really think about it, you grabbed a clean rag and walked over to him, tugging on his arm to make him sit in a chair so you can clean him up. 

“Its’ fine-I can handle myself.” Joel holds his hand up to stop you, your eyes locking for a moment. He can’t help it, your pleading eyes and trembling bottom lip made him fold almost immediately and his hand fell so you could move between his legs, gently pressing the rag to Joel’s bleeding lip. 

“It’s not ‘fine’.” You rolled your eyes, suddenly feeling embarrassed by your closeness but you focused on his lip, soaking the blood up and feeling a bit dazed at how damn handsome he was, how his thick pine scent mixed with the sweat on his brow and how that all made your heart leap in your chest.

“I’m gonna get the first aid kit- I’ll be right back.” You whispered, taking a step back as your nerves started to fully set in, this was too much, he was too tempting. If you were too close to him you were going to majorly embarrass yourself. You just wanted him so badly it was starting to fester in the pit of your stomach.

Once you returned you finished cleaning his wounds and dressing them, his breath spreading over your chest and neck as your delicate hands patched him up. You were really just too close for comfort. 

Joel was dying inside, clenching and unclenching his fists as he struggled to resist the urge to run his hands over your hips and to just fucking ruin you. He had certainly been avoiding you like the damn plague, you were gorgeous and going anywhere near you was sure to be nothing but trouble for the older man and yet…something about you kept him coming back to you, despite the dangers, despite the taboo. He just wanted you in every way. 

“All done. Now you won’t bleed all over the place.” You teased, feeling a deep sense of relief as you finally and yet still reluctantly backed away from Joel, cheeks heating up as his eyes met with yours again. 

“Thanks, darlin. Maybe you can be my personal nurse, hm?” Joel stood, smirking as he took a few steps closer, his chest inches from your face as you stared into those endless eyes of his. Joel slowly reached his hand up and brushed your cheek with a look so soft and cool it made your head spin. “See you later.” He mumbled softly before he turned away quickly and was gone just like that. 

He almost didn’t control himself there, his mind and heart racing in tandem as he willed himself to walk away, willed himself not to think about your smooth plush hips or your gemstone eyes that glimmered as they looked up at him, full of innocence and sweetness. Something that Joel, deep deep down, wanted to corrupt. He just had to avoid you at all costs. He could do that, right?

After that it was almost a month before you ran into him, and it was less so running into him and more so your father being a control freak and only allowing you to leave the compound when accompanied by a trusted guard and unfortunately for the both of you this meant Joel was given the honor of being your babysitter.

“I am 23, Joel. I don’t need you to lecture me.” You rolled your eyes as Joel took a beer bottle from your hands. You were already significantly more drunk than you needed to be, not that you would ever admit that of course.

You leaned against the bar, rolling your eyes dramatically. You had worn your tight black dress that hugged all of your curves, shiny red lips popping as you glared at the tall man, hands on your hips.

“Your daddy seems to think otherwise.” Joel shot you a glare, taking the beer bottle from you and passing you a glass of water which immediately made you groan.

“Don’t you ever loosen up?” You huffed, face heating up as you glared up at him, the alcohol burning through your veins and making you a lot more vocal and in all honesty, bratty.

“You don’t need to be shit faced when I take you home.” Joel sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, he wasn’t going to budge on this. 

“Fine. I am going to dance. You can sit here and sulk.” You huffed, spinning around and walking out into the drunken and stumbling crowd but not far enough that Joel couldn’t see. A part of you wanted him to watch.

You turned back to see his eyes staring at you in an almost predatory way and for a moment it almost made you lose your nerve. He was almost burning a hole in that dress with the heat and intensity of which he watched you. You couldn’t help but smirk a bit at the way he gripped his glass, his jaw tight as you started to sway your hips, dancing to the music. While across the room Joel watched every step, every sway. The way your hands ran over your stomach and chest, eyes low and chest rising and falling. He looked like a starved man as he looked you over, gripping his glass so hard you were concerned it would shatter.

You were much too drunk, you would certainly make a fool of yourself and yet you didn’t stop. His eyes on you made you hungry and a little light-headed. His gaze was so damn intense you didn’t even notice the man standing behind you before he tapped you on the shoulder and you turned to see Caleb, a little dazed and very drunk as you looked at him, his hair a bit messy and his typical toothy grin.

“You’re beautiful in that dress.” He smirked, going to lean forward to touch your hips before his eyes went wide and he started to back away, hands up as he pushed a few people to get away. He looked like he just saw a ghost. 

You stood, head tilted to the side as he ran off, confusion written on your face before you turned around and felt your own heart sink. Joel was stalking towards you, fists clenched and a terrifying dark look in his eyes as he approached you, getting nose to nose with you.

“I’m tired of this.” His voice was dark and gravely, it sent a shiver down your spine. 

In a swift motion Joel had lifted you by the waist, tossed you over his shoulder and started to walk out of the bar, his thick fingers holding your waist tight as he carried you out into the cool night.

“Joel! Put me down!” Your face was bright red in embarrassment, you struggled a bit but it was ultimately fruitless, Joel’s strength greatly outmatched your own.

After walking for a minute and ignoring your many, many threats Joel did eventually put you down. From the moment you saw him stalking towards you to right now you felt your blood boil in a fierce wave of anger. You ignored your trembling hands as you got nose to nose with him, tears stinging your eyes as you shoved your manicured index finger against Joel’s muscular chest.

“Seriously, what is your problem?!” You were seething as the words left your mouth, tears threatening to fall.

Joel just stared at you for a moment, the moonlight overhead was shimmering in the alleyway and illuminating your captivating eyes. Even now, as you furiously glared at him, eyes dark and angry, he was absolutely helpless to your beauty. He was fighting a losing battle with himself, he wanted to be a good man, he wanted to finish this job and get far away from you so he could stop himself from ruining not just his own life but yours as well.

“You.” He took a step forward, his eyes dark as he stalked towards you, his hands reaching out to pin you between him and the brick building.  “You are…my problem.” Joel was growling now, he was almost baring his teeth as he moved closer, his breath spreading over your neck as you stared wide eyed.

“W-what are you talking about?” Your voice was soft.

You couldn’t help but gasp when you felt Joel start to laugh, leaning his head against your neck, his beard rubbing against your skin as Joel took in your sweet vanilla scent as much as he could before pulling away. You could feel his body shake as he laughed before his deep brown eyes were staring into yours.

“Seeing you run around in that damn bikini, seeing you flirt with that douche. The coffees and those fucking eyes you keep giving me. It needs to stop. All of it.” Joel’s eyes were dark and serious, his jaw tight as he pressed his knuckles into the brick behind you. He was fighting everything inside of him. The fight between his morals and the way you were starting to make him feel. 

You were silent for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes that were glossy as tears threatened to spill down your rosy cheeks. Had you misread the entire situation?

“Why?” Your voice was soft as you looked at him, lip trembling a bit. You felt pretty pathetic.

“Aside from the fact that your daddy will kill me? You are just a young kid. It ain’t right.” Joel’s face softened a bit as he started to pull away, shaking his head as he struggled to keep his eyes on anything but you and your glimmering eyes. 

“You don’t…you don’t want me at all?” 

Those words sent electricity down Joel’s spine as you looked up at him, tear stained cheeks and trembling breath as you reached for him. He in fact did want you, he wanted you more than he had ever wanted anything or anyone.As much as Joel wanted to spare you, to allow you to stay pure and good but something in him was so damn loud and hungry for you, his internal voice was kicking the shit out of him for making you cry. He just didn’t want to hurt you.

He couldn’t take it anymore and in a quick movement Joel had you pressed against the wall again, his hands holding your hips as his mouth ghosted over yours, his breath heavy and hot against your neck as he whispered in your ear.

“I want you so damn much, darlin. So damn much…” 

Part Two Coming Soon???

#x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us joel #hbo the last of us #joel x reader #x reader smut #x reader fanfic #joel x reader smut #korebringerofded #fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller smut #smut #Daddy issues for sure #korebrinderofded

[anarchistartistvt]

honestly I think it’s pretty fucked up how much shit I got over my post.

“hey wait a second these Reddit discussions might be onto something-“ “YOU PEDO DEFENDER DELETE THE POST KILL YOURSELF GRAHHHHHH”

The shitty part is that I didn’t even actively seek out this info. my now ex was posting the Reddit shit in a discord server I owned, and I was like “wait whoa they might be onto something here”. Given it was already on Reddit I figured more people knew but god damn it was like I opened Pandora’s box.

Won’t say I didn’t fuck things up for myself and my friends. Someone tried to doxx my friend daenumao (unsuccessfully thank fuckin god), and I was too stubborn to delete the posts the minute things blew out of proportion. I thought I could handle it. I had gone through shit similar to this before, what with StickyBM trying to accuse me of a parasocial freak and Jordy claiming I doxxed them(only to find out it was their discord tag that got leaked). I thought I was doing the right thing. I knew how detrimentally destructive allegations could be, fake or not.

I sort of named my ex in there because I didn’t want to claim credit for what I had found. It wasn’t to throw her under the bus, and as soon as she asked me to delete the credit part, I did.

In a friend server I was in, I was being pinged about the situation nonstop. People were telling me to delete it, and it just felt like silencing me. I was getting harassed left and right. Someone started threatening me on tumblr(a platform I rarely used until now), people started bringing up fake or already resolved shit about me(had to clear that up on a fuckin Reddit thread), and basically everything started crumbling and falling apart.

Finally one of my friends pinged me and was like “delete the posts or I’m blocking you, don’t make me do this”. I had already set dms to friends only by that point, after hearing daenumao was being threatened. I got angry, unfriended her, and left the server. Shortly after, a couple friends sent messages saying they were cutting ties and to never contact them again. Then my girlfriend messaged me saying she was leaving me.

Right now I’m sort of trapped on what I can say without breaking boundaries of anyone. I never meant to invalidate the victims. At the time, my only intention was to raise awareness of “hey this is kinda inconclusive, you might wanna take a look at this”. I didn’t think it would blow up to the point I would get death threats and death wishes.

In a court of law, both sides are to share their experiences. The experience really just told me that the justice system of twitter is fucked beyond comprehension. The victims were quick to attack anyone who doubted their claims, and had no problem siccing their supporters onto anyone who didn’t fall in line. It honestly felt like I was being told, “SUPPORT THE VICTIMS OR DIE”. People are allowed to have doubts, and while I can understand where the victims were coming from, they didn’t care to show much proof denying some claims. One of the alleged victims even said “so many big names are supporting me so I’m right.” Bro what?

When I attempted suicide, it was for a lot of reasons. I have bad anxiety and getting attacked the way I was back there sent everything into overdrive. Not to mention losing about 95% of my friends over this crap. I was only on twitter mainly because I had friends there and would chat with them regularly. I don’t have many friends in real life and I’ve always been kind of a loner. So to see my support system fall apart over this, especially because I have HORRIBLE abandonment issues, fucked with my head.

I’m not happy as a person. I’ve been depressed for years and I’m not proud of it. I’ve been through more fucked up shit in my life than I can even begin to process. Growing up in a broken family, being treated like shit by my stepmother and put through so much abuse, flunking out of high school and falling through the cracks, running away at 19 and immediately being raped and molested by someone I saw like an older brother, being sexually and emotionally abused by an ex who blamed me for being raped, moving out of my aunts house only to be institutionalized from a suicide attempt 4 months later, being in the homeless system, being treated like shit by the government programs, being doxxed and swatted and harassed and had deepfakes made of me, possibly having a condition that means I’m likely to be dead from suicide by the age of 34, etc. Like, I’ve genuinely been through hell and back and a lot of people know it. Maybe more people than I should be telling.

I tend to over share, I vent too much, I go into slumps quickly, and overall I’m a fucking mess mentally. I had gone into a bad psychotic breakdown last week due to trauma and a bad reaction to new meds, so my mental state wasn’t exactly the best when this shit even started. By this point I was already having a sinking feeling that my girlfriend was planning on leaving me, and then a few days later she hit her breaking point.

When I typed up that final post, I genuinely didn’t know if I wanted to keep living. Hearing someone I was close to saying “you better stay alive because you deserve to live with what you did” was horrifying.

I’m a coward, without a doubt. I wanted out. But not from just this. I wanted out from everything. The few people who I was close to, or even people who had tolerated me to an extent, had basically told me to go fuck myself. It quite literally felt like I had lost everything.

I got ahold of some Tylenol and started filling up the bathtub. I had planned to overdose in the tub, hoping that if I went into a seizure from the medication, being submerged in water would limit the chances of me pulling out of said seizure. I’ve only attempted a few times in my life, so you can’t bash me too hard for not knowing how to do it.

As I started undressing, my iPad started ringing with a FaceTime audio call. It was my dad.

Somehow the situation found its way to him and he reached out to check on me. I don’t know if one of my friends contacted him, if he was already monitoring my accounts, or if it had just blown up that badly that even he(someone who doesn’t use twitter or own an account) had seen it. I tried to sound normal because it’s pretty rare for him to call me, but when he started bringing up what he saw, I broke down sobbing.

I explained everything to him, that I just wanted to help, and that I thought I was doing the right thing, and he told me to limit my social media exposure, because of how unhealthy it was becoming for me. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone with my actions. I worded things wrong and handled it badly, and I will wholeheartedly apologize for that. He explained to me that it was good that I wanted to do the right thing, but it wasn’t good to screw over my own mental health over this shit. He advised me to limit my social media usage to only those I could trust.(scary thing is, I didn’t know who all I COULD trust)While on call, I tried to deactivate my account but couldn’t because I forgot my fuckin password. All I could do is private my account and go dormant.

A few people reached out in Twitter dms and I spoke with many of them. They were extremely kind and supportive, and redirected me to the Mandela Catalogue Reddit forum, where I was welcomed in. I’ve been staying there, as well as occasionally posting on Tumblr. I’m scared to even touch my Twitter account with a 10 ft pole, and discord interactions have been next to none. I considered rebranding but I didn’t want to feel like I was trying to sneak my way out of accountability. I was just threatened and bashed so fuckin much that I didn’t feel safe interacting as myself, Anarchist Artist.

A bunch of people were screaming at me for linking Reddit threads and saying “YOU CANT TRUST REDDIT ITS FULL OF LIES” you’re literally using twitter which is probably WORSE when it comes to misinformation.

I never intended to fall down this rabbit hole of who’s right or who’s wrong. I will apologize for how I handled things and how I worded my post, but I will not apologize for speaking up about a story full of holes. For the victims to bully someone into submission is not mature or appropriate, and they should be held accountable as such. I have no intention of clearing my name, I have no intention to regain my friends or close ones, and I have no intention of saying “HA HA I TOLD YOU SO”. I just want shit to go back to even a slight semblance of normalcy.

Even if the victims’ stories are truthful to an extent, they way they have approached all of this is horrible and I’m upset that they endorsed harassing anyone who didn’t fall in line.

I’ll be here for now, but won’t post much. Everything is still a mess and I’m still concerned for my safety.

[linddzz]

Dreamling Nonsense Masterpost

Looking for a fic? For a shit post? For a long winded au thread? Playlists? Got it here. Keeping it Dreamling for now until I really have the time to scour through my various fandom posts to collect the Big Hits.

Audacity in Human Form: E. main WIP. A post season 1 "let's see these two figure their shit out" exploration that's best described as two character studies stacked inside of a fanfic shaped coat. My main tagline for it is "it isn't unrequited, Dream just needs therapy." The fic exploring how the two weirdos I have in my head got together.

Fics/Tumblr Ficlets

"Audacity in Human Form" Series

Not exactly a structured chronological series. I have a pretty set version of my Dream and Hob in the canon!universe, so all the fics I write of them are just the same two dolls I'm bumping together in the same sandbox. They can be read in any order or separately, but there are characterization threads and things mentioned that tie them all together. I like to think that put together they can give fun context or more depth to each other :)

I'm less into Big Plots and more into just having fun bumping these dolls together and playing with how they interact!

It's a WIP and I write slow, as my job takes a lot of mental bandwidth.

(Other fics in the same series can be read even while the first isn't done! They don't really spoil much except for the fact that they do end up together. But of course they are.)

In Which Hob, a Shitty Wizard, Meets a Supposed Demon: Gen. Drabble ficlet on Tumblr as I start exploring my Shit-wizard Hob AU. More of a rough draft concept fic

Obviously: E. smut prompt fill one-shot. PWP. Dream is a needy eldritch pissbaby and also violently romantic. Hob scruffs him for some much needed gentle domming.

This Isn't the Trope: Teen. Lots of cussing. Johanna is agressively investigating an immortal man, Hob is looking forward to being dramatically rescued by his hot supernatural boyfriend. No one but Morpheus has a good time.

OTHER FICS/DRABBLES

Audacity in Human Form related posts (esp the ones that broke containment)

"Oysters have nightmares like this"

"Jokes on you, you're into that shit"

Hob: "no. Shut up. I'm talking now."

Characterization Notes aka: I'm gonna start bullying Morpheus

Other mutterings about writing or snippets are under the tags "#my fic" and "#audacity in human form"

AU Cooking:

I'm honestly better at coming up with every single detail for an AU without actually writing the fic, but I like playing in the sandbox and other people seem to have fun with them too :)

Human!AU. There are kinda two versions of this that I'm starting to meld together.

Red Flags AU post: Hob is hired to be the party ruining messy boyfriend, but cannot begin to compete with the insanity that is the Endless family and the Hot Mess Express Morpheus, who hired him. They fall in love instantly. "Why would I fix him??? He's perfect."

Red Flags AU 2: slight deviation from the OG where everything is the same, except Morpheus' messy friend Johanna accidentally introduces them and instantly regrets it. She did not anticipate Hob reacting to Morpheus' red flags like a charging bull.

Assorted Human!Morpheus facts

Shit-wizard Hob AU: where Hob is still immortal, except Death is his Endless buddy. He first meets Morpheus when trying to take up occultism at Fawney Rig (he's bad at it but is gonna stick around now. For reasons.)

Meta-ish Shitposting:

Hob meets Thessaly. Avril Lavigne's "Girlfriend" starts playing ominously in the distance when she doesn't appreciate how much of a needy clingy freak Morpheus is.

#1

#2

#3

Spotify Playlists:

I process Blorbo feelings with hyper specific playlists. Putting Dreamling and other fandom ones here bc I guess it's about time I share more of them

Audacity in Human Form PL: 1h33m fic specific. Set up to alternate Dream/Hob POV. Blatant "2012 fandom brain" indulgence in here.

Hot Mess Endless Express: 1hr45m the general Dream playlist. Not ship specific, all romantic songs are how I just see him in any relationship. Mostly serious, except when it isn't but especially when it isnt

The Devil of Fawney Rig: the playlist I imagine goes in Dreams head when he's stuck in a fishbowl and horny for revenge. Made with the shit-wizard Hob AU in mind

Newton Goes Kaiju All Over Everybody's Ass: 1hr it really is too bad that there was never a second Pacific Rim movie but wow isn't Dark!Geiszler a great concept? 🙃

EDDIE I MADE A PLAYLIST EDDIE: 44m Venom made a playlist for Eddie, isn't that nice?

Mountain Son: 1h30m Bagginshield Thorin feelings ahoy. Made with Mahrâna in mind.

The Bacchae: 1h. The soundtrack for the dream production of the Bacchae in my head. Meant to follow the progression of the play

The Huntress and the Maenad: 1h30m insane sapphic bitch in the woods solidarity

Mysteries: 7+hours!!!!!! The ongoing playlist for joining the cult of Dionysus and eating a billionaire in the woods

#masterpost #look i finally did it

[fahbev]

Hi! Saw you jumped on the tim hate train, welcome to the club! Aplarently you're Damian fan, which is good bc hes also one of the characters who's hit by tim's..woobification? Victimization(???) while simultaneously being the bestest, most competent batfam member. You Damian fans honestly have my respect for the pure amount of shit Damian gets because of tim.

hi lmao. Thanks xD. I usually try to keep all my negativity off of the internet, but last night I was going the anti Tim drake tag bc my frustration was flaring up. At first i was collecting posts by liking them instead of rb, then I was replying, and then at some point... “Fuck it. I want this on my blog.”

(This is gonna be a ramble btw, I don’t care abt making a good post rn.)

I used to be fine with Tim! I think the whole thing was a lot less prominent in the dpxdc fandom bc DANNY was the fan favorite/community elected woobie, but then I kinda moved out and... well. It still took awhile for this issue to seep in bc those Tim fans (you know the ones) are certainly a minority, but I just don’t think you can be a Damian fan for longer than a few months without getting frustrated.

Nowadays I refuse to read anything tagged with any variation of “Tim Drake angst” that features the batfam. Timkon fics are usually just fine though.

Actually— recently? Shit’s been bothering me so bad that I don’t wanna risk reading fics that have Tim in the first relationship tag at all. He’s gotta at most be in the second one. Ship fics are again an exception, but I don’t tend to seek out ship fics much anyway.

But, like I said, I usually keep it to myself. Every time i catch myself venting in the tags I either screenshot the tags and delete, or I delete and retype them. I put them into a private notes document. I also journal in there a lot instead of posting it.

That document is pretty long.

I do wanna say that there’s nothing wrong with what tim fans are doing. It is fun to woobify your fave. It’s fun to prop them up and tear others down and make everything about your blorbo and it is harmless. I do it too (usually in my daydreams). It’s a fantasy, and that’s what fanfiction is for. People who act like it’s “problematic” are wrong. That doesn’t mean it’s not annoying. Because it is. It’s annoying as all fuck.

Also wanna mention that I once read a damian fic that like... started off with some delicious whump, but then it turned into a whole Damian pity party and it guilt tripped all his friends and family. Damian IS my blorbo and I couldn’t read that. I didn’t even know who Maps was at the time but it seemed so bizarre to throw her under the bus. Anyway I feel like that’s what a quite large portion of Tim fic is like except a bit less extreme.

I used to tell myself that “ohhh it’s just a rivalry. I’m sure Tim fans get the same shit in reverse all the time” but I literally NEVER see it in the other direction and spend the most of my time in Damian circles. The only time I see tim hate from damian fans is frustration at those particular fans in response to it or in response to favoritism of authors.

I mean i saw a good chunk of it last night, but what else can I expect from the anti tim drake tag?

It’s actually funny how most of the stuff in anti tags is polarized hate shitting on the character with a lot of bad takes, but in tims anti tag it was almost exclusively frustration from Damian and Jason fans, and usually pretty mild takes. Also people calling Tim boring.

Ngl, Idk much about Jason. I’m familiar with his fanon, but the only comic i’ve read that featured him in a major way was Gotham War. I don’t know him well, and I don’t have too much interest in him. However, I hate “Jason falls over in guilt and kisses Tim’s fingers begging for forgiveness” type posts in solidarity. It’s yucky.

Anyway, I didn’t even mean to get on this anti tim train you speak of, It just sorta leaked out of my vent doc. Don’t expect me to keep posting about it.

but also... don’t not expect it. It might happen.

Even so, my dms are absolutely open for Timothy Drake related frustration! I’m pretty tired of being nice to him.

#anti tim drake #ask #i may delete this later #i might also delete all my anti tim posts #i might also continue hating on him #depends on my mood #also lmao idr how much i rbed you but your blog was the source of so many of the anti tim posts

[hibernationsuit]

5 Songs, 3 Outfits

Thanks for tagging me @spaceratprodigy aaaaa this is so fun <3

Rules: Post 5 songs associated with your OC, followed by 3 outfits they would wear

Tagging @vvanessaives @elvves @yrlietlanaevyss @cilantlis @quickhacked @reaperkiller @velocitic @dickytwister @katsigian @edgepunk @devilbrakers @babylon5 @ncytiri and everyone else who wants to do this 🤍 (+ no pressure to do this obviously hehe)

picked toby for this hehe :3 also switching it to be outfits first, songs later bc i added commentary for the songs and they're under read more. hehe. i also added a bonus song there.

Outfits

sources: one / two / three

Tobias likes comfortable clothes and has a high preference for oversized sweaters and shirts. He also likes wearing flannel shirts or soft warm jackets <3 He likes somewhat neutral, earthly tones, but isn't afraid to use funny patterns either :)

Songs:

Firestorm - Siamés: Toby's a guy who easily goes to do something he really wants, especially when highly motivated, and has accepted the fact that this road can and will have lots of "falls" and problems for him. He's still going forward :) idk man this whole song just reminds me of him <3 also, these lyrics: "to be in the glory, you'll have to survive to your falls"

Black Mambo - Glass Animals: I think going against the higher-ups is a big part of Toby's story and personality tbh. This man has many opinions and he is not afraid to say them. Or blow a whistle or two. Also can be seen as the whole "some guy goes against the Halcyon Board" song.

So Much Love - Depeche Mode: I remember this one uquiz calling Toby sooooo much. This guy has so much love to give and does that all the time, he wants people to feel good, feel loved. Something something, also Dave Gahan saying this about the song: "It's like we have so much love here, we really do, but we're afraid to use it and access it." Based on what we know abt tow universe, I doubt it's better there, so showing vulnerability or doing something nice might indeed look "weird"/"unusual"/"not productive" and thus may even be looked down upon?? idk man.

Dying to Live - Poets of the Fall: honestly no matter what i said above?? toby doesn't like showing his true self to other people and gets, well, ashamed? scared? when forced to talk about himself or explain why he did something and all. He also tends to overthink everything so much :/ Which then has kinda lead to also kinda missing out on many things in fear sjfkkfkgnfkfn

Shine - Dave Gahan & Soulsavers: honestly just toby vibed song. also somehow relates to toby's optimism <3

BONUS SONG which is strongly related to young long hair Toby

Fear of a Blank Planet - Porcupine Tree: i was listening to songs that were in control at some point and idk why but the moment this was on i suddenly got?? so many long hair toby thoughts??? very fitting for him honestly. Obviously only some parts of the lyrics are fitting (which seems to be the case for most songs) but um. yeah. thank my obsession with control soundtrack for accidentally creating long hair toby. After leaving the family he kinda got into this very...unhealthy kind of behavior in which he basically either spent his time working A Lot (or doing some side gigs bc no matter how smart you are i doubt a junior chemist's salary in udl would let you pay for your rent and necessities properly) or spent in clubs or sitting all alone at his apartment doing something or having sex. Additionally I'd mention how his substance use got v high, specifically smoking and drugs. I'm pretty sure corporations actually encouraged their workers to use them to get better productivity and all even on Earth, and while Toby didn't really care abt the whole 'be profuctive' thing, boy did he enjoy getting rid of feelings and having more focus.

#tag game #oc: tobias

[elvisabutler]

give you my heart

summary: christmastime at graceland is hectic. you and elvis enjoy some quality time alone with each other by the fire after everything is said and done. some important conversations happen. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: t to be on the safe side, i used the word cocked. pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy variation ) x female reader word count: 1846 warnings: elvis as santa. reader as mrs. claus. talk about elvis's health. basically the reader kind of taking the place of ginger alden if you're curious the time frame my mind went to. talk about marriage. brief mention of elvis's mother. potentially excessive talking to a baby belly. author’s note: merry christmas to those who celebrate and happy holidays to those who don't and happy sunday to those who neither of those apply to. also happy hanukkah. anyway! so this is the tame piece i mentioned last night. special thanks to my lovely ladies of graceland for convincing me to write both pieces. the beginning few paragraphs are the same as the first dirtier fic so no you're not imagining that. you know the drill, imagine austin or real elvis, i'm not picky because i know who i imagined. might maybe have one more christmas-y/holiday themed fic up my sleeve but that's likely for right after the holidays. and yes i am posting this at 6am, i don't understand why my brain wouldn't let me go back to sleep either. also if you want a tag for my later fics, or any of my fics in general just give me a heads up, i'm actually gonna try and start using one.

Christmastime at Graceland is always a bit of a packed house and one that is a- in your own opinion, bit of organized chaos. Between Priscilla bringing Lisa Marie, between every member of the Memphis Mafia- former and current- bringing their basic families and Elvis's own family it was a bit much to handle. Not for the first time you are so deliriously thankful for your fiance still having a relatively cordial at least nowadays relationship with Priscilla. You're pretty sure you would have been lost for the first two Christmases you had hosted and even for this one had you not had her to fall back on.

You're able to handle it though, flitting through rooms like a hummingbird, the swell of your stomach rounding out the red dress lined with white fur causing you to bump once or twice into the children running around and twice into Santa himself, causing him to run his hand across it, murmuring apologies to you and to your little one who gives him an answering kick that has him grinning even more than he already was under his fake beard. Your pregnancy, while giving you more energy than you thought was possible, sometimes also drains you more than you'd like during social engagements. Elvis warns all the adults ahead of time, tells them that things might be cut short if you're looking like you need to relax. You manage to make it a respectable three hours, even if by the end you find yourself sitting on one of the couches, rubbing at your belly enough that despite you moving to stand up shakily in your heels he's showing everyone out in record time.

Lisa and Priscilla are sound asleep upstairs as you find yourself curled up under a blanket on the rug in front of the fireplace with Elvis behind you supporting your back. One of his hands is rubbing small circles against your skin, watching as your child occasionally reacts with a kick that has him huffing a laugh against your neck and has you rolling your eyes. This is all you've really wanted today, for honestly the entire week as preparation for this soiree truly went into overdrive. Elvis might be taking a break from touring and from everything else to focus on his health a little and to focus on you and the child growing in you but he's a bit of a workhorse who doesn't know proper sleeping hours even on his best behavior. You're used to it and it makes times like this, makes these simple moments special.

You're both tired from today's festivities, him from running around after the kids and passing out gifts and you from just entertaining. Any other night after being as pulled apart from one another as you had been lately would have ended in some form of sex but it feels almost like too much effort for the pair of you. The baby within you keeps rolling about, the excitement from today and from Elvis's touch proving to be a combination to drive you a bit batty. Elvis wants to stay behind you, wants to be the rock you lean against but at the same time, he can't help the overwhelming urge he has to talk to your stomach, to kiss at it and marvel at how his girl, his future wife is growing another little one for him, an active little boy he hopes but he's alright giving his lil Yisa a little sister. He doesn't fight the urge after a while, after the fourth kick from your child has you huffing a little out your nose. With an agility you forget he has off stage he moves his body almost like a predator and you find his mouth placing a soft kiss to your belly as he speaks.

"Now ya listen here, it ain't nice to make mama hurt like that. Know ya jealous ya ain't out here enjoyin' the season but next year, lil one. Gonna be in our arms or running around the room. Or maybe you'll be in our arms when we get married. Have ourselves a Christmas wedding." He looks up at you, looking younger than his years. "'Less ya wanna be my wife sooner than that. Ya already got the ring and my big baby."

Your hand moves to his head, thankful he had taken the Santa hat off ages ago and you allow yourself to run your fingers through his hair. It’s a little sweaty still, but you figure it’s from the heat and the former hat. Elvis’s eyes flutter shut a little at the motion, the action being something comforting no matter who’s doing it. A smile plays on your lips before you shrug. “Your very big baby, wondering how much bigger I’m going to get- if I didn’t know any better I’d say there were two in there.” You pause and motion to the belly his head’s now resting on. “I’m not fitting into any wedding dress, sweetheart. Can’t have a wedding till this is all gone.”

Elvis laughs a little and rubs at your belly again, marveling at the kick he receives back, this time down toward the bottom of your stomach instead of toward the top. Maybe there was something to be said about your joke about there being two in there. He shakes his head before he speaks. “We can, ya just don’t wanna have everyone lookin’ at ya and realizin’ I’ve already got ya full of me ‘fore were married. ‘Sides, there’s always a courthouse one. Can do that for now, no fuss ‘n later on we can have the big ceremony with everyone.”

It’s not a bad thought, you think, allowing both of you the privacy of being married before everyone else knows, a truly rare thing that you figure would only serve to help your relationship rather than hinder it. Still, you’re wondering where all this is coming from, Elvis had been content to put a ring on you right before you found out you were pregnant and you had told him you wanted to have a Christmas wedding- a fact that had delighted him to no end at the time- but you hadn’t realized just how big you’d be around Christmas thus forcing you to put aside your plans.Your teeth worry at your lower lip before you say anything. “Just me dressed up in something nice, you dressed up in something nice and we just march down to the courthouse and say our I dos? No fuss.”

“Aw hell-” He starts, rubbing at his neck as he places another kiss to your stomach, murmuring something else before moving to sit up even as you want him to stay in your lap, just allowing you to stroke his hair. This had to mean business if he was turning down the chance to get it. “Look I know my mama's looking down on me right now and reminding me not to mess the one up. Already cocked it up a little giving you the little one early. Figure she'll come haunt me if I don't do what ya want me t'do. And I know you wanted a Christmas themed weddin’ but darlin’ I want ya to be my Mrs. Claus already. Want that ring on your finger to be our wedding ring. I’m bein’ impatient but hell- I don’t even want them questionin’ when you’re pushin’ out our baby whose it is. Just-” He pauses, and moves to cup your cheek, an action that causes you to nuzzle into his hand. “I wanna be able t’call ya my wife already. Wanna be your husband already.”

Not for the first time lately or even today you find your chest tightening at the love you feel for the man in front of you. He’s not perfect- God, don’t you know it and there’s a part of you in the back of your mind that’s prepared to eventually join Priscilla in being his ex-wife once you get married but it’s times like these, these simple times where he bares his soul to you that you’re reminded of why he’s the man you fell in love with.You bring your hand to rest over his and pull him into a soft kiss. “You’re that impatient, huh, big boy? You promise we wouldn’t make a fuss? That I can still have my wedding next year with you and I bouncing the baby between us during the ceremony?” 

He nods solemnly. “If that’s what my baby wants, if that’s what my wife wants, already told ya, mama’ll come haunt me if I don’t do what ya want. I’ll make it so we’re in and out and I’ll get Joe or one of the boys to take some pictures and that’ll be it. No fuss, no fans, nothing but you, me and the- well the little one inside ya but that can’t be helped.”

You giggle softly, running your free hand across your stomach as if to comfort the baby and to just help ground yourself to think.It’s a perfect plan, you think, and you’ve got just the outfit that could work. “They’re probably open on the 27th, you know. If you’re real serious about making me your wife as quick as you can.”

The grin that forms on Elvis’s face makes him look like a giddy school boy or like every silly picture of him just doing this full face grin that to this day amuses you to no end. You had said the right thing by agreeing and his excitement feels a little contagious as he nods his head. “I was serious as anythin’, darlin’. Gonna- Gotta make the plans tomorrow mornin’ when everyone’s awake and gotta tell ‘Cilla she can’t leave just yet- gotta have Lisa and her, just to witness. Oh- This might be the best Christmas present you’ve given me. Don’t think ya ever gonna top this one.” He bends down and places another kiss to your stomach. “Your mama is perfect ya know that, so lucky t’have her as ya mama.”

You shake your head, marveling a bit at the joy and the silliness in the air before you grab at Elvis’s face and place another kiss to his lips. “They got a real silly daddy but I’m marrying him early as a late Christmas gift so guess I‘m just as silly. Can we take this upstairs, jolly ole Saint Elvis?”

Once again, Elvis stands up quicker than you forget he can sometimes and pulls you up and close to him as he peppers your face with kisses. “Of course, gotta make sure my wife is comfortable. What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t? Can’t get started off on the wrong foot. Come on, let’s get to bed.” He pauses and takes a moment to look you up and down. “Love ya.” 

You shake your head and laugh at the way he looks at you. “Love you too, you impatient man.”

taglist: @ab4eva, @aconflagrationofmyown, @butlersxbirdy, @eliseinmemphis, @blurredcolour

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley fluff #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fanfiction #austin elvis fluff #austin elvis x reader #austin elvis imagine #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #austin elvis x you #austin elvis #big daddy elvis #ally writes

[coraclavia]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by the inestimable @mylittleredgirl. I could be doing Actual Things, but nah. This.

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 112

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 338,559

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly: Stargate Atlantis, Star Trek Voyager, Stargate SG-1, and recently added X-Files. I have also written a handful of things for The Rookie, I once wrote a gazillion things for Castle and Bones, and I've written for Due South, Cupid, Agent Carter, etc. It's a crazy quilt of "they're pretty; they should kiss."

[I also admit, shamefully, that I wrote 26 fics for Brad/Claire back in the Bon Appetit Test Kitchen days. They were posted under my other pen name, badtemperedchocolate.]

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

dark switch (Stargate SG-1, Sam/Jack; a re-imagining of what might have happened once Jack returned from Edora)

Five Times Sam Gets Married (Stargate SG-1, Sam/Jack; exactly what it says on the tin)

Guest Lecture (Star Trek Voyager, J/C; Kathryn delivers a lecture at Starfleet Academy after their return home)

Acquired Taste (The Rookie, Chenford; 5+1 in the form of a bakery AU)

here's a dumb idea (Stargate SG-1, Sam/Jack; "what if they had to kiss")

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I try to. Sometimes I'm slow, sometimes I miss one, but I try to respond.

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

Hmm. I don't do a lot of sad stuff, I guess? I guess I see the end of fall in place as angsty, just because it's in line with the real end of the season (John and Monica are on the run, with everything they had now long gone).

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

Uhhhhh. Maybe The Woman in the Snow? "And then I fixed it and they got to be happy, finally, unlike canon. The end."

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. Many moons ago, I got some rude comments on Castle fic, but that was a long time back, and it wasn't bad. So not really.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have, but I rarely do anymore. For me it has to be part of a larger romance; I really can't do pwp. I much prefer a tasteful fade-to-black which means I don't have to keep calculating bare skin and body parts 😂

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not often, but I did write one: Stolen Sky, a Castle/Firefly crossover. iirc, it was the first, or maybe one of the first, Mal/Kate stories? It did pretty well, and it was funny reading comments that said "I only watched one of these shows, and this fic convinced me to watch the other one, too." It was originally posted on ffnet; I have since transferred it to AO3.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes! Only once that I know of. It was a (not very good) (since deleted) Bones fic that got stolen in its entirety; all the thief did was change character names. I reported it, and it was taken down.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

I have! It was very flattering.

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

Yes! I co-wrote Castle fics with chezchuckles, Cartographicals, sandianecarter, and shimmeryshine back in the day. It was a DELIGHT. I would love to do it again!! (looking at you, @mylittleredgirl 😜)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I honestly don't know if I could pick just one. John/Elizabeth from Stargate Atlantis, Janeway/Chakotay from Voyager, John/Monica from X-Files, and Castle/Beckett are all up there. It rotates based on what I'm watching at any given time.

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

I have this wonderful giant Voyager "missed connection" fic in my brain, where KJ and Chakotay belatedly realize they met at the Academy and fell a little bit in love in just one silly, lighthearted, adventurous evening of running around San Francisco together. I have a very long, detailed outline for it; we'll see if I ever tackle it for real.

16. What are your writing strengths?

@mylittleredgirl would say fluff, and I don't disagree. I love characters bantering, I love teasing, I love when they're kind and heartfelt to each other. I think I'm good at little moments like that.

UPDATE: LR has reported that my strength is, in fact, "FEELINGS."

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I do not enjoy writing smut; sometimes it's good for the story, but I do not like writing it and I don't think I'm particularly good at it. I have trouble fleshing a thing out from first idea to polished product. Physical accounts of action baffle me sometimes. Also, I often find it hard to come up with convincing conflict. I'm fluffy at heart, I guess.

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

It can be effective, I guess? But there's usually a way around it if necessary. I haven't really had to deal with it, so I don't have strong feelings about it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh shit, I think this was Numb3rs. It was a really fun crime show on CBS featuring a mathematician who did Big Complicated Math to help the FBI solve crimes. I wrote a bunch of fics for it, they were all absolutely terrible, and yes, I have long since deleted them.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Letters From War, a Voyager fic where KJ and Chakotay keep in correspondence with each other through the Dominion War. It's the sequel to By Firelight, but took a long, long time to put together, and once a few conversations and ideas clicked into place, it felt like it all came together. I was happy with how it turned out.

--

Thanks for the tag, Little Red! I am tagging @cfr749, @captaincarriekathryncoffee, and @neverenough37 (apologies if y'all have already done this and I missed it).

#fanfiction #on writing

[veronicaphoenix]

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: Japanese folklore, angst, sickness, best friends’ comfort, implied physical abuse. | Word count: 1.4k | Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

At that point, I was pretty convinced that every time I had one of those coughing flower fits, it was because something bad had happened, even though most of the times I couldn’t tell what had gone wrong, to whom, or where.  I didn’t know what, to whom, or where it had happened. 

This time, something must have taken a nosedive straight to hell because I ended up in the hospital, not only coughing up flowers but also hurling and running a high fever and puking everything I had eaten in the last fortyeight hours.  

I got so bad that Jesse had to drive me to the ER. For a while he genuinely thought I was going to kick the bucket. He went full-on drama when we crossed the ER doors, screaming at the doctors and nurses and ordering them to do something. He phoned the Nicks and he even tried phoning Jolly (who was still in San Francisco) and even my grandmother (who was in Japan). I suppose he did that due to the panic that overflooded him. 

Honestly, I got really worried for a while, too. I was drenched in sweat, feeling dizzy, and by the time we hit the hospital, my vision was playing a blurry game. 

Once they pumped me with sedatives and I could string more than three words together without a coughing fit or feeling like I would puke again, I told Jesse to calm down and stop dialing everyone in my contacts. I figured I’d pull through, just like I had done every other time. Or at least I was hopeful that I would, one way or another. 

Of course, Jesse didn’t listen to me. And then, he called Lia. 

I knew she was on her way when, an hour later, I started feeling miraculously better.

Before Lia arrived, the nurse swung by into the room to check my vital signs and ensure I was still well taken care of. She was shocked to see that my condition had significantly improved since the last time she had been there.

There was no point in staying there and I didn’t like hospitals, anyway. I requested to be discharged against Jesse’s insistence to stay the night and got my way a few minutes after. 

Just as I was getting up from the uncomfortable bed, Lia burst through the door, looking like she’d just sprinted a marathon. 

She said my name and stoped in front of me, eyeing me up and down with her eyes wide open and concern etched all over her features. She was dressed in black jeans, her boots, and a white T-shirt under her jacket. I straightened up with a half-smile that didn't quite reach her. She dropped her backpack on one of the chairs before reaching out to hold my hand.

"Why didn't you call me as soon as you started feeling unwell? I had to find out from Jesse. He was about to cry on the phone. He said it was really bad. He scared me."

Rubbing circles on the skin of her hand with my thumb, I explained that I had almost called her but ended up falling asleep on the couch, leading to a coughing fit and a puking that lasted for five eternal minutes when Jesse decided it was time to drag me to the hospital. 

Despite my own condition, Lia seemed to be carrying some heavy weight, and I couldn't help but wonder what was going on with her. I wasn't going to buy any more of those excuses about having too much work to do.  

"How are you? Is it serious?" She asked, the furrow between her eyebrows not disappearing.

"I've had a couple of X-rays, but they still can’t tell what it is. They don’t know what to do with me, but I’m feeling okay now, so I suppose that’s what matters.”

Her frow increased. 

"Noah… This can’t go on.”

“And what am I supposed to do?” I replied, shrugging. “When the nurse saw the dried flowers on the palm of my hands she thought Jesse and I were playing tricks on her. I got worried that they would call the Pentagon and take me away to experiment on me. It’s better if I go home and tell them it was all a joke. Besides, it’s not going to happen again.”

"How are you so sure?"

"Because every time you're around, I get better. And now you’re here.”

"Are you seriously still on about that?" she retorted, soundind more exasperated thana mused. She released my hand, taking a step back to give me space as I stood up from the bed, my figure looming over her. 

"I’m not making this up, Lia," I replied. I opened my arms. "It's just how it works."

Her eyes narrowed. "You’ve been talking to Grandma, haven’t you?” 

“Just once,” I said, raising a finger. “You know I’m not one to buy into superstitious and fantastical tales, but I’m just stating the obvious here. I never find myself coughing up flowers when you’re around.”

“What about last time?” She questioned, tilting her head slightly. The light in the room wasn’t helping to veil the dark circles under her eyes, the sharp 

“No flowers. That was just a virus,” I walked past her to grab my jacket from one of the hooks behind the door. As I put it on, I stumbled a little, a wave of dizzines flooding over me.

“Easy,” Lia cautioned, extending her arm to me. 

“I’m okay, Lia.”

“You can’t say that when you’re in a hospital. It makes no sense.”

“It does. You come to a hospital to recover. I’m recovered. I can say ‘I’m okay’.”

“You’re not okay until someone finds out what’s wrong with you.”

“Maybe I’ll end up turning into a flower. Remember that book you made me read a few years ago? What was it called? The Vegetarian? Yeah. The Vegetarian. The protagonist ended up turning into a plant. That was weird as fuck.”

“That’s not going to happen to you, come on.” 

Lia handed me my phone and wallet, and we made our way out of the room. Jesse was coming down the hallway from the left carrying two cups of black coffee—one for him and one for Lia. 

“The doctor said you shouldn’t be drinking coffee, at least for a few days,” he reminded me, much to my dismay. 

“That’s just bullshit,” I scoffed, reaching for the cup now in Lia’s hand. She hesitated, but eventually let me take a sip. After licking my lips, I handed the cup back to her.  

“You never listen,” Jesse muttered, shooting me a disappointed and slightly angry glance. 

Turning her attention to him, Lia asked, “Are you feeling better? You were pretty shaken.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, sipping his coffee. “He gave me a freaking fright. I don’t know what we’re going to do with him. I feel like a mother, seriously. Cannot even go on tour without worrying about his ass.”

“You’re overreacting,” I told him. 

“Noah, you puked all over the house. Now we have to go back and spend the rest of the day cleaning your room, the bathroom and the kitchen. I have never been that sick, not even when I went to Thailand and I ate something dodgy off the street.”

“Did you eat something that was expired, perhaps?” Lia asked.  

“No. I don’t know,” I answered. “Everything looked okay to me when I was cooking yesterday. Jesse ate it as well.”

“Well, don’t worry now. I’ll help you clean up and maybe we should cook something light, like plain rice or something else,” Lia suggested.

“Are you coming with us?”

“Yeah,” she said, brightening my mood. 

I draped an arm over her shoulders as we moved toward the elevator, ignoring the other patients and the nurses walking up and down. There was too much chattering considering that we were in a hospital. I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. 

“My favorite nurse,” I joked under my breath.  

“I’m not coming to play nurse to you. Didn’t you say you’re not sick anymore?” She questioned, arching an eyebrow at me.

“I’m starting to think he enjoys this,” Jesse chimed in, wlking alongside Lia’s other side and pretending to be engrossed in his coffee.  

“Well… The docs say I'm good to go, but I can always munch on something rooten and relapse…"

“All right, pretty boy,” she said, giving my chest a solid pat. “Easy does it.”

Approaching the elevator, a woman dashed through the corridor on the right, completely engrossed in her own urgency. Jesse dodged her by swiftly sidestepping her, nearly pressing himself against the wall to avoid a collision. However, she bumped into Lia, making her spill a little bit of coffee onto the floor. 

"Oops, sorry!" the woman apologized, glancing back briefly before vanishing down the corridor. 

I watched Lia wince and clutch her side, and my lightened mood turned into concern. Confusion furrowed my brow because the collision shouldn't have caused such visible pain. 

"Lia, are you okay?"

She managed a weak smile, but she was not doing a good job concealing her pain and discomfort.

"Yeah, that was nothing. Just… I hit myself against the corner of the kitchen counter the other day, and this woman just slammed her elbow right on it. Ugh.”

My gaze lingered on her, perplexity etched on my features. Something felt off, and I couldn't ignore that Lia seemed to be in more pain than the situation warranted. 

“Are you sure? Should we get a doctor?” I asked, genuine concern coloring my voice. 

“No, no,” she hurriedly responded, raising a hand to halt my worry. “I’m fine. We’re fine.” Despite her attempt at reassurance, her forced smile didn’t go unnoticed. Didn’t she know I could tell when she was faking it? 

Undeterred, she resumed the walk and called the elevator by pressing the round button. I thought she was just being stubborn, as per usual, and I let it go one more time without asking further questions. 

The last time. 

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic

[capriciouscaprine]

good morning!!!!! I had good number news this morning!!! lotsssss of numbers below, just fyi

I haven't really talked about my goals or current numbers on here, in part bc I was worried that if that was one of the first things I posted, whatever flagging bot gets used on here (I know, it's mostly crusaders who go thru the tags and mass repo blogs that gets us distapeared) would see those things and I'd be on their no-fly list immediately

plus, there's something to be said for the fear of saying something out loud, when I've not been the sort of person to stick to hobbies and things before

BUT

last week, I hit a goal of $125.4 (iirc), which means I hit a simultaneous goal of a 'healthy' -$5/month for 15 months straight, for a total of -$75.00 from my starting balance of $200.00

which, I honestly was having trouble being excited about hitting that goal bc of our common habit of rounding up, so any decimals next to that number it feel like I hadn't actually hit it, and I had worked REALLY HARD to get there, including a multi-mile treadmill walk and everything

BUT

my check in day is monday (start the week off informed!); on tuesday the monthly obnoxiousness started, and most of us who experience that will skip check in days that are close to it bc it messes with our bodies so much, so our measurements will be inaccurate

then, last week was spring break for my internship, but it's only two days a week, so I spent two days last week almost entirely sitting at my computer, working on my course work

meanwhile, in the same week, I clocked THEE MOST hours at my almost entirely outdoor, moderately physical job in about six months aka since about mid-fall, as late fall thru early spring is our slow season and things are now picking back up; I spent the week planting seedlings, repairing fences, running around after babies, and doing deeper cleaning now that things are warmer and deep bedding isn't so much of a priority

which, I spent last summer consistently dropping without thinking too much about it, tbh, and I'm pretty sure now that it's bc of this job (there was other stuff like switching from regular ice cream to halo top, etc, but on the whole I wasn't doing things like counting and I hadn't even made this blog yet)

and for meals this week, I seemed to average just about 1k; some days were higher and others were lower, some days I felt like an unwilling black hole and others I was just... fine after eating a small lunch/dinner (I keep weird hours, it was the final meal of the day for me, idk); plus, no semi-fraught Easter lunch with my family

SO

that brings us to today's check in

$123.2

officially, for realsies, under that $125.00 goal, and also the amount I claimed on my drivers license bc I thought it was funny and it was only a little lower than my actual amount BEFORE UNIVERSITY, AND very genuinely really close to a secret goal I've had since I heard it as a song lyric in 11th grade: $120.00

I know, it's such a silly thing to base a goal off of, and really highlights just how pervasive unrealistic body standards are, that some man stated it as the measure of a fictional grown woman he was writing about who you KNOW he envisioned as being 'curvy' and taller than a literal child

but I'm still gonna hit it

and yep, I'm once of those people who have reduced their goals over time; you think a number sounds really low, and then you find out how much people who look the way you want to measure in at, and realize that if that's where you wanna be, this number isn't going to have you looking like that unless it's mostly muscle, and I'm for sure not mostly muscle

anyways, introspection on societal pressures out of the way, this morning's breakfast was a 1/3 of a cup of egg substitute (50), two low f 'canadian bacon' slices (20 each for 40 together), a slice of lite toast (45) with lite country crock spread (about 1/2 a tblsp, so half of 35), and my coffee (25), so that's a relatively high f and protein breakfast for just under 200 (and of course we round up to the bigger whole number!)

I was hoping to feel satiated from that, but it's not quite hitting like yesterday's grilled cheese did; ah, well, just one more data point to take note of!

now, fingers crossed I can finish this presentation before work this morning!!!

#cc og #the slimmening

[britswriting]

Fallen For You |H.S AU

Fallen For You | Masterlist (I'll try and put them all under the #fallenforyoubybrit tag)

Read on Wattpad

Cover + edit made by me. Instagram watermark is my Demi Lovato edit account - I might open a Harry account but that's TBD right now

Description:

"Welcome to Fallen Ranch!" "Oh, I thought it was fall in. Like fallin' a part" Harry Styles was Boston Creek's must have rancher. He was hard to come by, hard to accommodate to, and a pain in everyone's ass; but he did a damn good job, which made him become very desirable. Everyone wanted him, and if you had him, you had to make sure you could afford to keep him. Not only was his pay out of this world, but he also requested room & board, including meals, a truck to get to town and at least one day off a week. If you wanted your chance at Harry Styles being your Rancher, there was absolutely no wiggle room for discussion. Delaney knew how much of a pain in the ass Harry Styles was. She grew up hearing the stories ever since he moved into town. "He's disrespectful", "He thinks his way is the right way" and the worst of them all? He didn't like dogs; but even with all of the bad mouthing the town has said about him, she couldn't help but notice his dreamy eyes and glistening muscles as he worked in the sun. The moment she found out her father had landed the Harry Styles, she was terrified. Her family couldn't afford her to make a fool of herself. If she wanted to keep Harry and everything that came with him, she needed to seal her heart up and throw away the key... right?

This is my warnings from my Welcome page on Wattpad before you read; the casting + their photos need to be viewed through Wattpad due to me passing Tumblr's photo limit per post.

~

Hello! Welcome to my new Harry Styles fanfic! - this is my first time writing a Harry fanfic since 2016, so honestly wish us all luck lol

This story will contain smut! - if you're uncomfortable with that, there will be warnings at the start of each chapter. 

I'm pretty warning heavy if needed, so if anything comes up that I'm aware of being triggering, I will put a disclaimer - if you find anything that I missed that should be a warning, feel free to comment! - I won't put a warning for "fat" comments due to they're not meant to come across has harmful or hateful - Delaney is plus sized and she is aware of that. Jokes get made, insecurities are shown but none of it is supposed to come across in a negative way. If those things are triggering, it should be very sparse due to I'm trying to write a confident plus sized character! 

Comment's Harry makes are never intended to be hurtful! He comes from a good place, it just all comes out wrong! <3

For those who came from the dadrry tag - it isn't immediate, but it's there!

This story contains lbgtqia characters, POC characters & plus sized characters - hate speech is not allowed, your comments will be deleted and you will be blocked. This story is a safe + loving environment for all! 

This story contains swearing! (I can't help myself I'm sorry lol)

Last prewarning, I write slow burn! - they will not be dating immediately nor having sex right away! I like writing the build up and edging in my writing, if that is something that bothers you, this book probably isn't for you! - Because it is forced proximity, they are always together and it doesn't take a million years lol they just won't be together by the 5th chapter unlike other books.

Tropes:

Rancher!Harryxplussized!OC ??

Grumpyxsunshine 

dadrry/grandparry 👀 - Harry is only 28/29! You'll understand later lol

Forced Proximity 

She falls first x he falls harder

The most important for anyone who doesn't want to see the full cast, is our MC (Main Character)

Here is Delaney! Also known as "Lane/Laney" by close friends + family

Chapter One

#Harrystyles #harrystyleswattpad #harrystylesimagines #harrystylesoneshot #harrystylesfanfic #harry x plus size reader #harrystylessmut #rancher!harry #harrystylesblurb #harryimagine #harryoneshot #harryblurb #wattpad #wattpadstories #fallenforyoubybrit #harry x reader #grumpy x sunshine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #dadrry #grandparry lol #harry styles x y/n #harry styles dad #harries #onedirection #directioners #onedirectionfanfiction #onedirectionwriting #harrystyleswriting

[gallery-piece]

the barok van zieks sexuality headcanon essay/ramble. that i sort of promised. funnily enough i'm doing this to avoid writing an essay on baroque music

DGS2 SPOILERS UNDER CUT (it'll be tagged but i'm gonna. put this in case-ies) (i know nothing about victorian society besides getting a 5 in ap world history. pray forgive any inaccuracies)

ALSO I'D LOVE TO HEAR OTHER PEOPLE'S HEADCANONS!! i project a LOT so this is biased!! therefore i am so so interested on reading how other people interpret him

so uh. first off the disclaimers. i'm oriented aroace (with 10 billion asterisks) and love projecting on characters. so that could totally make this biased!! and disclaimer two. i personally lean to asobaro but this could literally go for any of the main barok ships. but some details might be a little angled

this is going to use a lot of like. consideration for a 19th century heteronormative society.. but i'm also pretending like the characters would know sexualities and microlabels.

obviously. i don't think it'd ever be irrelevant given the games/his reputation and also the like. sort of nature of heteronormativity. but if asked i personally think barok would just pull something about prosecution being too busy for something like that. even if it draws a lot of drama of carrying the legacy of the noble lineage or whatever. i'm really hoping this makes sense it's 3am and i'm one energy drink in</3

okay so given that. i think while younger he was the type to just kinda? be disinterested in romance??? in the way of he'd rather study/do whatever the 1am 7/11 trip equivalent was in the victorian era. if asked i mean. it's a standard traditionalist/binary-only family. the assumption is you like the opposite gender y'know?

i do think there might've been inklings about same sex attraction as a teen. and i believe it would be more of the "is this friendship or something more", like. the confusion of it for him. but there really wasn't much until college exploration (i will note that i think barok is demiromantic but this isn't known to him yet)

so then we jump to post 2-5. or honestly i think this could really be post klint dying, but there really isn't any consideration of it being a thing until after the games. anyways my point here is requiesromantic. or arospec due to emotional exhaustion. however, like i said. i think this never exactly came into play until after dgs2 ends--- barok never even attempting to get into connection that intimate while getting through everything. then busy with cases during the games, etc.

given that. i am a full believer of everything is fluid and changing (i personally claim like 5 aro microlabels). i do think being requiesromantic can sort of shift for him, but would be more demiromantic overall. as for sexuality, i think it's a little more clear cut and barok would be pretty confident in just being gay? but isn't the most interested in acting on it.

but given my personal views on "undoing one's self-imposed punishment/inhumanity" (from. experience.. long story) it could seriously go to either extreme of how one approaches intimacy. though i do personally lean to he'd have to seriously trust someone to consider intimacy-- but more in a paranoid/self-hating way than a demisexual way. if that makes any sense

anyways tl;dr. demiromantic gay, but i do think he falls under requiesromantic (and likely a few other arospec microlabels, but i'm writing this half asleep)

#barok van zieks #dgs #tgaa #ace attorney #dgs spoilers #dgs 2 spoilers #tgaa spoilers #asobaro #im tagging y'all here in hopes of hearing more interpretations. haiii #aromantic spectrum #arospec #should i tag this queer theory lmao #WHAT IF I SENT THIS TO MY SOCIOLOGY PROF... HELP #raz yaps

[oakashandwillow]

20 Questions for Writers

Tagged by @bywayofmemory

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 91. A couple of those are 3SF compilations.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 115,642

3. What fandoms do you write for? Narnia, mostly. Used to write some Supernatural, Doctor Who but mostly in crossovers. Once we get into 3SF or "i've written this like once" - Star Wars (Mandalorian & Andor/Rogue One in particular), Battlestar Galactica, original stuff, Alex Rider, The Locked Tomb, Mass Effect, DC Comics, Middle Earth (movies, all books, Rings of Power), MCU - a lot. Twilight because of my "what if Renesmee was not... what Meyers wanted her to be" series.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Whose Other Side Is Salvation. Narnia/Doctor Who. Susan and the Doctor run.

we have to go on living. Young Justice. He can't hold it together forever. Robin, post-Failsafe.

to go nowhere with you. Torchwood/Narnia. "Minotaur," Edmund corrects automatically. Edmund/Ianto, time loops, minotaurs, coffee, and rift archaeology of sorts.

give me a world, you have taken the world i was. Hardy Boys. Joe wakes up alone in the dark. Things get worse from there, which sucks, because Frank is supposed to be home from college for Christmas break today.

Secrets Kept. Young Justice. Artemis knows Robin's secret. Spoilers through Young Justice 1x08.

5. Do you respond to comments? I... am nowhere as good as I would like to be at it.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? ... considering all the Narnia and specifically Susan Narnia stories I write that is a hard call. Probably we have come to our real work. AU. When Peter and Lucy hunt the White Stag, Susan and Edmund are in Archenland. Things go downhill from there. It's pretty early in my fic career so it could be a lot better in terms of quality but it is probably the saddest ending I've written. In terms of saddest story that I'm actually proud of? Probably we should take warning, we should forgive each other. Narnia, Prunaprismia, the bitterness of loss and pride and decisions it seems like are the only ones you can make even though they aren't.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Do I.... do I write happy endings.

I suppose my Renesmee series has a pretty happy ending! between one June and another September. Twilight, Renesmee/Leah. Renesmee Cullen comes full circle and falls in love. Does not make much sense without having read the previous works in the series though.

OH wait i gave edmund/bacchus (Narnia) a happy ending in one year since i've seen the mountains. I can write things that are happy!

8. Do you get hate on fics? I am extremely under the radar for almost everything honestly so no! And tbh I just don't have patience for that so would probably just delete and block if it was properly hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I've written some, though it's pretty mild!

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Look, what haven't I crossed over with Narnia. Merlin (BBC), Doctor Who / Torchwood, Mary Poppins, The Dark Is Rising, The Library Trilogy. I've done Leverage/Supernatural and I don't even know what I've done in various 3SF rounds. If we're counting my RP days I had some WILD character interactions while playing Padme Amidala in particular.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I doubt it? Never checked.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Once or twice! And podcasted once.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Several times! Only one is actively published and available as a fic though. Winds To Catch, Narnia/Mary Poppins, with @siterlas and animus in the city on A03. A Very Long Time Ago @bedlamsbard and I did like... an alarming amount of words on a BBC Merlin/Narnia crossover in commentfic. (Alarming for me who mostly writes like, maybe 1-2k a fic, not for Bed who's chapters number easily in the multiple thousands of words.) @siterlas and zempasuchil and I once wrote a bunch of AU BBC Merlin RPF commentfic where we wrote both the actors as if they were in a show about Marx and Engels instead and also parts of the fake show that they were in. Definitely various Supernatural and Narnia commentfic across the years. Probably more? Have also written friend fic for Las with Animus and Z. I also did a lot of RP stuff over the years! Which is cowriting though not in the sense we think of with fic.

Actually I really miss commentfic. It's so fun. I sometimes get to do it a little in 3SF but most people don't even know it's a thing you can do these days I think alas. Very informal collaboration is delightful!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Yeah I can't answer that. I'm very bad at picking favorites, ever. If we're talking ships I actually write, Susan/Edmund (Narnia), Bo-Katan/Din (Mandalorian) and Kara/Lee (BSG) are probably my top three? But I love... so many ships.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I started a follow up to my Hardy Boys story and I've noodled with it occasionally and don't think I'll ever properly finish it.

16. What are your writing strengths? I have been told I'm really good at ending lines! I like to think I'm good at just character study.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plot. Who needs a plot. What is a plot.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I do not trust myself to get it right at all so I just don't overall.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Depends if we count doing RP in which case it's Lord of the Rings. If it's straight fic, Narnia.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? My favorites land in very different categories, so I think I will pick the first fic I wrote that I properly felt "wait, I think I can be good at this writing thing" and still gets received well. this temporary flesh and bone. Narnia. Susan/Edmund. Susan, Edmund, and the zombie apocalypse in England.

I shall tag. @svgurl410 @lyntergalactic @liminal-zone @callowyn @ravenlilyrose

#fanfic #writing #narnia #it me

[dausy]

I didn't upload my disney trip because I felt guilty I was at Disney and my husband is overseas and miserable doing army stuff and I just felt like such a bad spouse. Sometimes I wonder if I'm on the spectrum because I just do not comprehend social cues. However, he's on a neat Christmas trip right now in Rome and seemingly doing some cool once-in-a-lifetime Christmas stuff right now. So I think its ok. I don't know how much I'm typing so Ill put it under a keep-reading tag. But my in-laws didn't want me to be alone for Christmas so they paid for my Disneyland ticket..I mean I went and bought the tickets because I get a discount but they paid me back. I drove to their house 8 hours away and we all shuttled in a car and drove the 6 more hours to Disney. I honestly think in many ways Disneyland is superior to Disneyworld. The primary reason I'd ever want to go back to DW would be for the food/wine festivals in Epcot. I think its like a great woo-girl-girls-trip and I'd like to go with my sisters one day.

anyway.

We visited a food-hall in LA the day we got there. Me and my husband took my MIL to a couple food halls in Atlanta and she thought it was a neat idea and found one in LA and wanted to show her family. I forgot what it was called already but I got a pastry and a creme brulee coffee that got actually torched like a creme brulee. They also had a southern food restaurant and I got shrimp and grits just so I can judge it as I lived in Georgia for long. It was pretty good. Bit greasy but the food hall itself was really cute. I just honestly with these food halls, I need more kitschy shopping.

We then went to the Disney shopping district and you can judge but I did spend a lot of money on starwars earrings and all the simba merch I could find. Which was not that much but still very expensive. A lot of stuff is under construction. I really just wanted some Christmas themed cocktails and their main bar was down.

we spent the next couple days at CA and DL. We had park hoppers. I wanted to do the Festival of the Holidays which I thought was a bit disappointing compared to the food and wine I've had in epcot in the past.

I took a lot of clips rather than pictures because I thought about posting to youtube but I don't think I will. I did upload them all to facebook though.

The festival alcohol I swear didn't have alcohol in it. For the record I rarely ever drink alcohol ever. But for this trip I kinda just wanted to relax and not rush ride to ride and just browse and sip something that tasted like Christmas.

There is an interesting food dynamic with my in-laws that I can't explain the entire situation here but I did have to wander off a bit in search of the food. I got a turkey thanksgiving empanada which was pretty good and I think my favorite thing I had was the tamales and there were some little chicken bites that were good too. But these sandwiches were a bit of a disappointment and I found hair in the coleslaw.

random photos. We accidentally found Tiana by herself and we got a photo and she was absolutely lovely. I really wanted to buy some sort of a spirit jersey and I just couldn't find one that I thought was worth it. They did have a red The Lion King one but it was kind of too-red for me. I did find this green lion king hoody though which was nice. I got a lot of compliments on my everything..I swear to god this random guy came up to me like a cartoon character and he yells "WHERE DID YOU GET THAT SIMBA" the one I have hooked onto my shoulder. As he screams it about 15 of his own little magnitized character clip ons and pins pop off of him. It reminded me of the witch from the bugs bunny cartoons where her hair pins would fall out.

I did get to see the Festival of the Lion King show. I've never seen this one. I've seen the one at Disneyworld years ago which was really cool. I didn't know DL had one and I guess this is one of its last performances so I teared up a little.

Primarily me and my SIL who I absolutely love spent a lot of time in Star Wars. I had forgotten until we were wandering around that DL is the one place that has the Cal Kestis lightsaber so I went on a hunt to find it. I'm not gonna buy it but I did find it! I also was not fast enough to get a photo with kylo ren but I didn't realize they had little R2D2s walking the park either. I don't think they have R2 at DW.

I also am a bad planner. I'm not one of those disney adults that can plan out an entire day. I was afraid to try and reserve any sort of dining because again the odd food situation. But I did manage to sneak into Ogas Cantina which was imo, a much better experience then the one in orlando by far. It seemed bigger, more spacious and the food was actual food and these were the strongest drinks I'd had in the park.

They tell you you have 45 mins and you have to get out but we stayed a bit later than that and nobody harassed us. If I went back to DL again I'd hundred percent try and get a reservation here and at the Blue Bayou again. I was also trying to refresh the app to look for an opening in lamplight lounge but alas, it did not open.

the new Marvel version of Tower of Terror I thought was also a lot of fun. And the Haunted Mansion! I feel like like they should leave it Nightmare Before Christmas all the time! I've never been on it this time of year at DW but it was wonderful here at DL. My first time seeing the Jack Skellington stuff. Also! Jack was out as a character wandering the park which I'd never seen before either.

I have to say I was really impressed with the handicap accessibility of some rides. My FiL is blind and utilizes a wheelchair most times and we managed to take him on Mickeys Runaway Rail and I was very impressed with the transfer lane for that. Very impressed with the cast members.

but I think my favorite rides are still Rise of the Resistance and lowkey, Smugglers Run. I feel like everybody hates on Smugglers Run but my stomach and chest hurt so bad from laughing. This ride was hilarious with the right group of people. 6 of us went in and I swear my MILs elderly sister was coming out of her seatbelt rolling around on the floor because my piloting skills were so bad. The funniest experience I've had on a ride.

Before RotR came out though I was a huge Universal Studios fan because their Harry Potter world was just so immersive (I'm aware in recent days HP is controversial) that disney just didn't compare. But they caught on with the StarWars real fast. It is super impressive and they just need to roll out more star wars add-ons. Especially to compete with Universals nintendo and how to train your dragon thats coming out soon in orlando.

The trackless rides are just so clever and I'm excited to see where that technology goes.

oh and the weather! I don't know how to dress for California and I dont understand it. Last couple years we went to Knotts Berry Farm and I froze to death every time. November and December I'm freezing. I keep expecting it to be like Florida weather I guess and it isn't. I keep bringing warm weather clothes and freezing. We were in LA back in June/July to visit the beach and it was 70 and I was freezing. Not beach weather. This year, I bring all winter clothes. Fleece leggings and tights to wear under jeans and coats and hoodies....it got up to 80 one of the days we were there and I got really hot. I brought a tank top and that was it. Everything else was winter. California you killing me.

but thats about it for now I think. That I can think of anyway. Overall both of my Disneyland trips I've had have been better than my Disneyworld trips.

#illustration #sketchbook #simba #disneyland #disneyworld #tiana #disneychristmas #disneylandchristmas #festivaloftheholidays #DLfoodfestival #disneylandfood #disneylandfoodfestival #hauntedmansion #ogascantina #starwars #disneystarwars #calkestis #riseoftheresistance #jackskellington #smugglersrun

[alovesongshewrote]

Is There a Doctor on this Plane? (Yes, yes there is.) - P4 | Eddie Munson x Reader

Plot:  Dustin is having a time, you're full of angst, and Steve just wants his car back [Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral!Reader] Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Word count:  3,678

Warnings:  SPOILERS FOR STRANGER THINGS SEASON FOUR, VOLUME 2. hospitals, nightmares, horror elements, eddie is having the worst time

Disclaimer: Uh, yeah, fuck netflix, and fuck whoever came up with having a "stranger things experience" in a former n*zi prison where jewish and romani people were exterminated. that's an incredibly fucked up thing to do, and i do not support or endorse it.

A/N: personally, i dislike this chapter lmao

Tags: @twistedhistory @keepingitlokiii​

Dustin Henderson was in a weird place. Living in a post-Vecna world, he was just dealing with a lot of things ranging from trauma to long-distance walkie-talkie calls.

After everyone had crawled out of the Upside Down, you and Eddie had taken off to an entirely different state. Of course, Dustin understood why, but it left him with the difficult task of explaining your disappearance.

He told Eddie’s uncle the truth. He deserved that much. Lucas, Max, and Mike got the true story as well, as did Will and Eleven. The latter two didn’t know who Eddie was, but they listened to Dustin anyway because honestly, the story of Eddie the Banished running back into the Upside Down and almost dying to buy the group more time sounded pretty epic- especially to those who hadn’t been around for it.  

The Hellfire club did not get the truth. The Upside Down was just a bit too much for Dustin to explain. They were, however, told that their Dungeon Master was safe and sound somewhere else. Where exactly, they were not made privy to- even though they asked on a regular basis- but they did know that he was, at the very least, alive.

Or at least they thought that Eddie was alive. That was the version of the story that Dustin found himself telling over and over again, even though he himself was never 100% sure how his friend was doing. Unlike Max, Eddie didn’t come out of his coma quickly. That meant that Dustin was left waiting for your call every day to hear an update on Eddie’s condition. It was just easier for him to tell people that he was fine rather than open the can of worms that was, “I don’t know if he’s alive, and every day I’m terrified that (Y/N) is going to call me and say that he’s gone.”

So yeah, he told people that Eddie was alive. He just wished he could believe it.

Instead, he spent almost every hour of every day waiting by the phone, waiting for your call. Quite honestly, it made his friends nervous- and for good reason. It wasn’t like Dustin to get hung up on things, even things that were incredibly traumatic and life-changing. This time, though, things were different. Of course, they were.  

Dustin had seen and fought man-eating monsters. He’d escaped evil Russians, visited an alternate dimension where everything was out to kill him, and he’d seen all of his friends almost die about a million times.  

He’d never actually had one of his friends die in his arms, though.  

And he’d never seen anyone as terrified as you were in that moment. The fear in your eyes as you tried to bring Eddie back to life still haunted him. He’d never seen anyone look so distressed, so desperate.  He never wanted to see it again.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice. Every night when he tried to sleep, he would see your face, panicked and terrified as you pounded on Eddie’s chest. He would see Eddie, too; his body limp and lifeless, eyes gazing off at something Dustin couldn’t see.

… Yeah, Dustin hadn’t been sleeping much.

That was another thing that made his friends worry. Deep bags formed under the kid’s eyes. He kept falling asleep in the worst places, and he would always jerk awake from those cat naps. He was jumpier than usual, and he snapped more often. It was clear to everyone that knew him (even Suzie, who was in a different state) that something was wrong.

They just didn’t know how to fix it.

They did their best. Steve, especially, looked after the kid, talking to him about what he had seen and heard. Sometimes, it was enough. Other times, it wasn’t.

While his friends had similar experiences, they hadn’t been there with him. They hadn’t watched Eddie die, and they hadn’t watched you lose your mind over it. The person who could relate the most was probably Lucas, but he was rightfully busy spending time with Max. Will did his best to help, but he, like the rest of the party, had his own shit to deal with. And yes, it was true that Steve, Nancy, and Robin had seen Eddie while he was in bad shape, but he was alive and breathing by that point. They hadn’t felt the world fall away as they realized Eddie’s heart had stopped. They just didn’t know what it was like.

You did, though. You and Eddie. Unfortunately, as has been well established by this point, you and Eddie were in a different state, he was in a coma, and you could never stay on the phone for too long. You and Dustin had a plan for the kid to come and visit with Eddie’s uncle (and also, Steve) but you had to wait for things in Hawkins to come down before you could put the plan into motion.

All Dustin could do then, was wait.

When things finally calmed down, it was thanks to the joint efforts of Nancy and Hopper. Hopper managed to calm the murderous masses of Hawkins while Nancy distracted them with a few well-placed news stories. Things finally got to the point where no one would notice if a few people just… slipped away to spend a few days out of state.

You had taken Steve’s car when you left, and no one actually knew where Eddie’s van was. That left Wayne Munson to drive both Steve and Dustin to you. Needless to say, the car ride was relatively silent. Steve and Mr. Munson did take notice, though, when Dustin fell asleep. It was the first time the kid had gotten any actual rest in a long time. They both knew it. Dustin knew it. Everyone knew it. No one spoke on the drive in.

When Dustin woke up, you were sitting next to him.

“HOLY SHIT!”

“Jesus. Well, hello to you too, kid.”

“Ah, sorry,” Dustin sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “When did you get here?”

“Like, ten minutes ago. Mr. Munson and Steve picked me up.”

“Oh! Neat,” Dustin fought to keep his eyes open, but the car was so relaxing-

“Oh my god, he’s falling asleep again. Steve, are you sure he’s okay?”

“He’s fine, he just hasn’t been sleeping enough,” Steve answered. He sounded uninterested, but he had an eye on Dustin with the help of one of the rearview mirrors.

“I am not! I’m sleeping just fine, thank you,” if he had been in another car, Dustin would’ve kicked the back of Steve’s seat. He held back though, if only for the sake of Mr. Munson’s car.

You got to the hospital soon after. Your small group remained silent with the slight exception of you giving directions to Eddie’s room.

You held when the rest of the group saw Eddie for the first time. Quite honestly, it crushed your already broken heart into even smaller pieces. Steve looked shaken as if he was just now realizing the extent of Eddie’s condition. Dustin, of course, looked wrecked- as if he was experiencing the moment Eddie had died all over again. You were almost sure you could see tears in the kid’s eyes. It was Mr. Munson, though, who had the most devastating reaction. Of course he did. His nephew had almost died saving the world. The kid he had taken care of for years was lying in a hospital bed in a coma.  His kid was in such bad shape, and he’d already been through so much-

“I’m, uh… We’ll go get some coffees,” you said, pulling Steve and Dustin away from Eddie’s room and allowing Mr. Munson to have some time with his nephew. Both boys complained, and they continued to do so until you dragged them into the elevator with you. It wasn’t until they were standing in that small box with you that they realized what you were actually doing.  

They didn’t realize you were crying until then, either.

It was just a little sniffle. Just a little nothing sniffle, but it caught their attention anyway.

“Hey- hey are you crying?” Steve asked, his motherly tendencies shining through.

“They’re not crying- oh shit, they’re crying.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Steve said, putting a hand on your shoulder, “Everything is okay.”

“Yeah, there’s nothing to cry about,” Dustin tried to keep his voice level, but tears were quickly coming to his eyes, “Nothing- no- oh shit, stop crying or I’m gonna cry.”

“I’m not crying, you guys,” you said, clearly crying, “I’m fine.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve repeated, pulling you into a hug.  

“Oh, shit!” Dustin joined the hug, burying his face in Steve’s shirt.  

The three of you stayed like that for a few minutes, all of you sobbing, and all of your arms wrapped around each other. You’re pretty sure the elevator door opened, but whoever was waiting on the outside clearly decided that getting in with the lot of you was Not Worth It.

“That fucking asshole,” you sniffled and pulled away, “What right does he have to make us cry like this, right?”

“Guy’s got no fUCking right,” Dustin’s voice broke as he wiped his eyes.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. Steve made no such attempt. He ruffled Dustin’s hair as he cackled away at the poor kid’s unfortunate voice crack.

The elevator dinged, and this time, you all stepped out.

“The cafeteria’s this way. I’ll buy. I owe Steve for letting me use his car. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“It’s no problem. I know you can drive, and y’know, you aren’t a child,” he glared pointedly at Dustin.

You paused, looking between the two as you entered the cafeteria. It took a moment for things to click in your head, but once they did, you were delighted by the information you’d acquired, “Wait, Dustin, did you steal Steve’s car?”

“... Okay, for one thing, I did not steal it. Max did.”

A gigantic grin split across your face. It was the first time you’d smiled in weeks. It actually kind of hurt.

“Hey, wait, what are you doing, don’t laugh-” Steve said, frantically trying to defend his honour.

“I’m not laughing-” you choked down a laugh, “I’m not laughing I swear. When- when did this happen?”

“A few years ago,” Dustin answered nonchalantly.

You lost all composure. A cackle escaped from your lips. You quickly tried to quiet yourself, but that didn’t really work out. Small giggles escaped your lips while Steve glared daggers into your head as he tried to fight off a smile of his own.

“Okay, what’s so funny about that? Do you want to explain what’s so funny about that?” he asked.

“I’m sorry it’s just- the idea of Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington having his car stolen by a bunch of middle schoolers-”

“Hey, y’know what, I don’t have to take this,” Steve put his hands up and walked back towards the elevators.

“Aw Steve, I didn’t mean it,” you said, a smile still evident in your voice.

He just waved you off.

“Hey, if you’re going upstairs, can you grab my jacket for me? Thank you.”

He sent a thumbs up your way, rounded the corner, and disappeared into the cold white hallways of the hospital.

“He knows I was just teasing, right?”

“Yeah,” Dustin shrugged, “He’s just a bit of a drama queen.”

“I’m aware,” you smirked.

The two of you picked up the coffees in silence. You were on your way out of the hospital cafeteria when you grabbed the kid by the back of his shirt and pulled him to a stop.

“Hang on,” you said, plopping down in a nearby chair, “Let’s just sit for a minute, kid.”

“Why? What’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” you shrugged, “I just wanted to check in on you. This- having a friend in the hospital- it’s always rough. And you couldn’t even visit him, and you saw what put him in here. That… that would be a lot for anyone to take, but you’re just a kid. I can’t even imagine-”

“Hey, let’s get one thing straight, I am not a kid. I’m a teenager.”

A grin crossed over your face as you shook your head at Dustin’s antics, “You know what I mean, Dustin. Just- how are you holding up? Are you doing okay?”

“I’m fine!” he exclaimed, “Totally fine, I don’t know what you’re so worried about.”

“Oh, really?” you raised an eyebrow, “Well, I was just thinking about it because, y’know, I’m not doing well, nightmares and all that, and I’m an adult. But, I guess if you say you’re fine…”

You took a sip of your coffee as the kid looked up at you, eyes wide, “You’ve been having nightmares?”

“Oh yeah. Nasty ones. I haven’t slept in so long,” you hissed out the last part with a smile that Dustin could only describe as Eddie-like.

He stared at you for a second before you continued, “There’s no shame in it, kid. What we saw, what we went through- honestly, I’d be more concerned if it had no impact on our little human brains.”

“Excuse you, my brain is huge.”

“Of course, kid,” you reached over and knocked his hat into his eyes.

You sat in silence for a moment, sipping your respective drinks before Dustin spoke up again, “I haven’t been sleeping either. I- It’s just difficult. Every time I try to go to bed, I just see his face- or your face-”

“My face?”

“Yeah, when you-” he took a deep breath,, “When you realized that he- that his heart had stopped, you looked so scared.  More scared than I’ve ever seen a person look in my life. That image, it just, it got stuck in my head. Now I can’t sleep. Thanks for that.”

“Sorry,” you apologized as the kid ran a hand over his face.

“No, it’s not your fault it’s just,” he looked away from you, trying his hardest not to cry in your presence for the second time that day, “I was so worried about him, and there was nothing I could do about it, and I- I thought that coming here would fix that, but it hasn’t.  I’m still worried about him, and about you, and I just feel so useless-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” your voice was soft, “First things first, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m okay.”

“I know, it’s just… it’s so much.”

“I know. I know. But I think… that might be what we’re supposed to feel- like everything is too much.”

When the kid remained silent, you sighed and continued, all the while wondering how Steve and Eddie made looking after these kids look so easy.

“You’re allowed to be worried, y’know? More than allowed, I mean, being worried at a time like this is normal. It’s what you’re supposed to feel. And feeling useless is normal too, and I- I feel the same way so often, and, there’s no shame in it but… look at me.”

He did.

You took a deep breath and placed your hand on the table, “We both did everything we could do to save him.  Everything we could. And you were so brave down there, and he would be so proud of you if he was awake.”

“He would be awake if we had stopped him.”

“Are we talking about the same Eddie Munson?” you started, a smile on your face despite the tears forming in your eyes, “There was nothing we could’ve done to stop him. It was his choice, and his mind was made up the second he cut that rope. All we could do was take care of him afterwards, and we did.  We did.”

“We did,” he repeated your words. His voice sounded empty. So quiet. So unlike the energetic kid that saved the world with you.

“Listen to me, Dustin. That absolute dumbass that we call a friend is only alive because of you and me, okay? So when he wakes up, he’s gonna have to answer to us, right?”

“Right. You’re right, he’ll have to answer to us,” Dustin finally smiled. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. Fear and anxiety still filled his mind, but at the very least, he didn’t feel so useless anymore- and he knew he wasn’t alone.

“Come on,” you stood, “Let’s go see our guy, huh?”

Dustin nodded and the two of you picked up your small collection of coffees before heading to the elevator.  

On the ride back up, the kid turned to you and asked, “If Eddie does die, do you think Mr. Munson would let me take his guitar?”

You choked on your coffee, “If you tried to take the guitar I think Eddie would come back to life for the sole purpose of stopping you.”

“Really? Dang it.”

The disappointment in the kid’s voice made you giggle, and you were still laughing when the elevator doors opened to reveal a slightly shaken Steve.

“There you guys are, come on!” he yelled, grabbing Dustin and speeding down the hall.

“Woah, woah, woah, man, hang on, you’re gonna make me spill the coffee!”

“Oh, sorry-” Steve paused for a second, “Wait, no, hang on, this is more important than coffee, let’s GO!”  

He clapped his hands and continued to shuffle the kid down the hallway, leaving you to follow behind. You were still a few steps behind when Steve and Dustin turned into Eddie’s room. Muffled voices floated your way as you walked forward. Dustin was yelling. You weren’t sure why. When you finally turned the corner, you almost dropped the cups in your hands.  

Eddie Munson was awake.

Your eyes met his for a moment. It was just one moment- just a single moment, but it felt like an eternity passed between you. The world fell out from beneath you. You felt like you were falling, drowning, living and dying all at once. Your nerves were alive with electric energy. He was awake. Eddie Munson was awake. He was alive. His eyes were full of life again. Your body was on fire. And you were pissed. Too pissed to stick around for too long, in fact.

You put the coffees down resisting the urge to clench your fists around the cups of hot liquid. It wouldn’t be worth it, you thought, you’d get burned. You looked up at the small gathering of people in the hospital room before you. Eddie, Steve, Dustin, and Mr. Munson. You opened your mouth as if to say something to them. You were going to say something, you just didn’t know what. Either way, the words died in your throat.

You bit down on your lip, flexing your fingers and taking a few steps back towards the door. The silence was deafening, and what’s worse, it was really, really awkward. 

Finally, the right thing to say came to your mind. You took in a deep breath before you said, “Yeah, I’ve gotta… I need to go water my goldfish. Bye.”

With that, you broke your promise, and you left him again. You sprinted out of the room, running past the elevator doors and into the fire escape stairwell.

Your footsteps echoed off of the concrete walls as you paced back and forward. What were you doing?  Why did you run? Maybe you were just overwhelmed- you’d spent weeks at Eddie’s side, anxiously waiting to see if he would wake up and now, he was. And you were happy that he woke up! Of course you were! You were just so angry at him.   

That asshole had almost died. He’d run into danger either without thinking, or knowing exactly what he was doing, and you weren't sure which was worse. It was almost as if he thought his own life had no meaning- that wouldn’t be a new thought for him, but it would still piss you off.  Still.  You loved him.  You should’ve hugged him, held him, or done something.  You should’ve stayed with him at the very least. Of course, your brain and your body just couldn’t do that for whatever reason. Instead of staying with the man you loved, your heart froze in your chest when he looked at you, and then you ran from him. You ran.  

Now you were alone in the stairwell. You paced back and forward, moving up and down the stairs as you tried to clear your mind. You hit the main floor and passed by a window showing you the inside of the hospital. People moved about, nurses, doctors, patients. Near a desk was a pair of cops- cops. Shit.

Dustin Henderson was in a weird place. Over the past few weeks, he’d dealt with constant anxiety, nightmares, and an overall sense of unease. Now, it looked like at least some of that would come to an end. Eddie was finally awake.

And he looked like shit.  For a moment, he was fine, but when you left, something in the older boy’s eyes had changed. His eyes were empty again. He’d kind of curled in on himself as if he could fight off everything he was feeling by hugging his knees and ignoring it. Simply put, he looked devastated.

“So, uh… how are you feeling?”

“Like shit, Henderson.”

“Oh, yeah, well, uh-”

Steve mercifully cut off the kid’s stuttering, “Wait, when did (L/N) get a goldfish?”

“They don’t have one,” Eddie’s voice was cold. He sounded way too sad for someone who defied death and came back to life. The hospital room fell into an awkward silence. Nobody knew exactly what to do now.

“Well,” Dustin said, throwing his hands up, “I’m glad you’re back, man. But don’t you ever do that again.”

Before Eddie could half-heartedly promise that he’d be more careful in the future, you burst through the door, panting slightly, eyes wide with fear.

“We’ve gotta go.  Now.”

#x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things spoilers