#//i'll TRY to be active before the holidays

[sxs-a2]

Yes I'm doing this.

Like/reblog for a LITTLE NEZUKO.

[yawnderu]

Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part V

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Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

This chapter can be read as a one-shot without having to read the whole story! :)

"Are you staying for Christmas?" You ask casually, decorating the cookies you baked with Simon's help. Your daughter is sleeping peacefully in her crib, a small Santa Claus onesie on her, preparing her for the celebration even when there's still a few hours left.

"You want me to?" He asks with a raised eyebrow, brown eyes fully focused on decorating the head of one of the cookie figures, steady hand drawing a skull pattern with ease.

"It's her first Christmas, I think she'd like having her father around." I want you around as well. He's lucky you're focused on decorating your cookies, missing the way his face lights up with a proud smile. It's a lot of progress.

''Right. I got you both some presents in the car.'' He washes his hands on the sink, giving his daughter one last look before leaving the house, trying to gather as many of the gifts he bought as possible. ''Some presents'' was clearly an understatement— he has been building a pile of gifts for months, his car full of boxes and bags for both you and your little girl.

''Jesus Christ.'' You wash your hands and go help him as you see him struggling to carry the pile, taking some from him and putting them under the Christmas tree.

''There's more in the car.'' He seems almost sheepish as he confesses, giving him a small pat on the arm as you go outside to help him. You almost laugh as you look inside, the entire backseat full of presents. It's almost ridiculous, yet so charming how much he wants to make both of you happy, knowing how much it the holidays mean to you, especially now that you have a daughter.

''Isn't this... a bit overkill?'' You joke, earning you a playful pat on the ass now that your arms are busy. You miss the kick thrown his way, jogging after him with a smile when he playfully gets on the other side of the couch to avoid you getting revenge.

''I still got one more present coming, but that's for later.'' He walks back to the kitchen once he made sure you weren't going to kill him for patting your ass.

''I swear to God, Simon, if it's another d—'' He interrupts you by smearing frosting on your cheek, shooting you a cheeky smile that gets erased the moment you do it back— smearing way more than you should have all over his cheek.

''Bastard.''

Your baby was up by the time it was midnight, excited to see her mum and dad opening up presents and even joining in, tiny hands clearly struggling with the wrapping paper, yet somehow managing without help.

''Strong girl, like her mum.'' You smile softly at his words, looking at the way your daughter stares curiously at one of her last presents; a cactus activated by sound.

''Say 'hello'.'' Simon says, getting closer to the toy until it activates, dancing around and lighting up. Astrid looks confused as she looks at it, brown eyes looking up at you before looking back at the toy.

''Hello.'' He repeats, a warm smile on his lips when the toy starts dancing again, much to your daughter's confusion. She babbles at it, tiny hands reaching out to touch it once it starts moving and playing back her sounds, giggles escaping her lips as the toy imitates her laugh.

Simon's phone vibrates in his pocket, getting up from the couch before looking down at his phone with twinkling eyes.

''My mate's here, I'll be right back.'' He doesn't wait for you to reply, already out of the house before you can even say anything. Your focus is back to your daughter, happy that she enjoys playing with the toy rather than being scared of it like you've seen in videos online. Brave girl she is, not a single lick of fear in her.

Simon comes back a minute later, holding a big German Shepherd that can definitely walk on its own. You give him a questioning look as he sets it on the floor, holding his collar just in case.

''Absolutely not.'' You try to protest, yet your gaze softens when you see Astrid crawl to the dog.

''Wa-wa!'' She points out, tiny hands reaching up to pet the dog the same way you've taught her, gentle. The dog doesn't react much besides laying down on the floor for your daughter to pet it, making it much easier for her.

''His name's Riley, he's a retired K-9. Look, I'll pay for his food and even for someone to come take care of him when I'm not here, I just... want you to be safe.'' There's hints of pleading on his tone, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.

''... I'll take care of him.'' You say with a small sigh, knowing Simon wants nothing else than for both of his girls to be safe, especially when he's deployed.

''We gave him extra training to deal with kids and emergencies. Big geezer's patient and good.'' He keeps trying to sell it as if you didn't say yes already, a small giggle escaping your lips before giving him a reassuring smile.

''We'll keep him, don't worry.'' You crouch down to pet the dog, who is clearly enjoying the attention from your daughter, allowing her to rest on his side while petting his head.

There's a smile on his face as he looks down at his family, hands fumbling with the small box in his pocket.

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[fernandopiastri28]

high for this ~ oscar piastri

Notes:

i am officially finished with holidays and back to school :/ so im going to be posting a lot less but i do have a few works just rotting in my drafts so i'll probably just be changing the names of characters and posting them. (not proof read so i apologise if there's any mistakes)

warnings: smut, weed, drug use, mdni

Oscar mindlessly lays sprawled out on his bed, his muscles aching from the gym earlier in the day. He tenderly rubs his hamstring, trying to nurse it back to not being too sore for his match tomorrow. 

He has some music playing as quietly as possible, a pulsing tune of some heavy rap. It’s not really to his taste, but he’s bored with his own playlists at the moment. His phone is near the foot of his outstretched left leg, while his right leg is tucked up towards his torso, his knee pointing high towards the ceiling. Both hands are hard at work around his right leg, his fingers pressing into the tough flesh.

He feels a buzz travel through his left foot as his nails dig into his skin. He makes a note to cut them. He hears the buzz too, this time over the sound of the music. He sits up awkwardly, wincing at the strain on his leg. Using his left hand, he picks up his phone and checks the two new messages he’s received. 

It’s Talia, unsurprisingly. She should be asleep, though, she promised him she’d start working on fixing her sleep schedule. He clicks the notifications, squinting to see the messages with the medical white lights flashing in his eyes in comparison to the darkened room.

tals🧡: you up?

tals🧡: do u wanna come over

Oscar shifts around in his bed so his back is pressed against a stack of pillows. He brings his hand away from his hamstring, ignoring the dull shoot of pain that runs up his leg once it loses his attention.  

They don’t do a lot of sneaking over to each other's houses, simply because they can see enough of one another during school days, so it isn’t anything essential. They get in all the kissing, cuddling, and make outs they want to during the day, so if she’s suggesting this, it means sex. 

Not necessarily just sex, anything within the umbrella of sexual activity. Oscar shifts his hips, trying to decide what he wants to do. They live pretty far from each other, meaning for him to sneak over, it's a 25-minute walk each way since he can’t just take the family car. It’s late—nearing midnight—and he’s sore. On the other hand, he’s horny.

And at Talia’s house, she doesn’t live with her parents. She lives with two of her close friends, skipped out on the college experience after her first year. Oscar didn’t get that luxury, much like his older sisters. Both of them lived at home for uni. But while she’s off now in France, he’s still a third year university student. Since her family won’t even be there, they don’t have to worry about being sneaky or quiet.

Oscar: Yeah. See you soon

He unplugs his phone and slips his feet into the pair of slides that are sitting at the foot of his bed. He opens his wardrobe, grazing his fingers over the line up of shirts that rest there. He grabs a graphic white t-shirt, wrestling it on. He cracks open his door, walking past his sister’s and the guest room, both vacant. His parents are on the level upstairs, so they can’t hear any disturbance he’s making. 

He settles for catching the bus instead, unwilling to walk up to an hour. He sits down in a row of empty seats, ducking his head down and popping an earbud in. There’s a scarce number of other people on the bus, two girls sitting close together, their heads spinning drunkenly. An old man, greying hair and a newspaper in his callused hands.

tals🧡: come thru window. sammy will bark otherwise.

Oscar replies with the hard thought out reply of a thumbs up before re-pocketing his phone, staring mindlessly out of the window at the dark surroundings that whip by. 

Oscar gets off at his stop 10 minutes later, and he’s the last person on the bus by that point. He approaches Talia’s house, not even bothering to go through the front door- Sammy would bark and wake the whole house up. He clicks open the gate, dragging it out only just enough to slip in. He walks across the side of the house, tapping on her bedroom window once he gets to it. He presses a hand to his pocket, making sure the pack of condoms he grabbed are still there.

The curtains swish open and Talia’s standing there, fiddling to get the window open. Once it's open, he feels a rush of cold air hitting him, accompanied by the smell of something almost like diesel. “Hey,” He grins as she leans down. 

She narrowly avoids the kiss he’s going for, giving him one on the corner of his mouth. “Sorry- god, it’s dark,” Her shadow rubs her eyes, reaching out a hand to help him in. 

Climbing in through the window isn’t a difficult task- just slightly uncomfortable. His crotch rubs against the window pane as he brings his second leg over into her room. Talia wraps her arms around his waist as soon as he’s inside. “Hi, Oscccc,” She looks up at him, her teeth gleaming white. 

Just as Oscar is about to reply, the petrol smell hits him even harder. He crinkles his nose, confused as to what it is. “Tals, what the hell have you been smoking in here?,” He laughs, his hands grabbing at her ass to get her to wrap her legs around his waist. His voice is thick with sarcasm, Talia is the furthest thing from a druggy possible.

“Weed,” She rubs her lips into his shoulder, mouthing at the fabric of her shirt. Her mouth is dry, barely wetting the cloth. Oscar’s eyebrows knit, tensing in confusion. “Got a joint, was bored,” She mumbles. 

He doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. At the same time, it’s late- his mind is cloudy anyways. He looks past her, at her bed where there’s a metal tin and a joint laying on top of it. Explains the smell then. “Fuck Talia,” He lets out a deep breath, “Maddie and Amber can definitely smell it,” He groans.

Talia laughs, her voice thick and loopy. “Nah, they cleared out tonight so I could do this.” She pulls away from the embrace, tugging him after her by his shirt. She falls back against the bed, her eyes clearly red rimmed from the dim lighting over her bed. “Cmonnn Opie, wanna get stoned with you,”

It’s so strange to see her like this, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t hot. It’s so unexpected, such a pleasant surprise from his usually wound up and rule following girlfriend. Oscar’s resistance weakens, the sight of her laying there- a goofy grin plastered across her voice is enough to make the strong man give in. 

He hovers over her on the bed, a knee on either side of her hips and a hand on either side of her head. “You’re insane,” His mouth meets red, puffy lips for a kiss. She’s hungry for it, bringing her hands up to his hair to tug him down. 

“More,” Talia begs, her voice breathy. Her pupils are huge and there's a spacey look in her eyes. Oscar teases her, shaking his head as he slightly resists kissing her any further than little pecks.

“I want a drag,” He whispers, reaching over her to where the blunt is precariously resting. He places it in between his lips, the bitter taste already seeping into his mouth. “Light it up,” He murmurs around the lump in his mouth. 

Her mouth and ears feel as if they’ve been packed with cotton, his voice is far away and just barely a noise. “You don’t know how to,” She giggles weakly, her fingers pinching the fabric of his shirt that hangs down onto her.

Oscar gets off of her, sitting against the head of her bed. His legs are spread, his body slumped down comfortably. “Teach me,” He pats the space in front of his lap, his eyes looking up through his lashes. Talia’s mind is foggy with weed, lust, and need. She’s willing to do anything. 

“Take this,” she pushes a plastic water bottle into one of his hands, already unscrewed and partially drunk. “You’re gonna cough a lot- the water will help with that,” she explains, leaning forward with her hands propped up on his quads, pushing the hem of his shorts higher up. 

She reaches over to where the bottle had been and her fingers feel numb as they wrap around the lighter. “You feel good?” She asks as he twists the joint around between his lips. He doesn’t quite know how to answer, it feels like a question for after he’s actually smoked it. He nods regardless, tensing his leg muscles under her hands.

“I’m gonna light it, okay?” Another question from her. Her voice is becoming harder to understand, the true effects of the weed settling into her. It’s bizarre to him, this whole situation. “And you just try to inhale as much as possible,” She waits for a nod of competency from him before continuing. “Don’t let it just rest in your throat- it’ll burn. If you can’t do a lot, just do it in small bits,” 

Oscar’s hand snakes behind her, resting on the small of her back. “Ready,” He mumbles awkwardly. She clicks down on the lighter and a flame flickers, wavering just below his nose. 

“Don’t stress it,” She can see how his eyebrows are still furrowed and his nails are digging into the fabric of her shirt. It’s almost euphoric at first, then it’s hell. Heat fills his mouth and he’s coughing and wheezing. He did exhale- probably too much. 

He feels Talia’s hands all over him, her coldness contrasting against the warmth throbbing through himself. She takes the spliff from his mouth, sucking down on it herself. Oscar watches her hazily, his bottom lip tucked under teeth. 

“How long have you been doin’ this?” The words feel as if they’re not coming from him. Jesus, surely he’s not baked already. He feels the heavy weight of the joint being pushed between his lips again, his question seemingly going unanswered. 

He takes it, breathing it in again. He doesn’t let it rest in his throat, he focuses on the inhale. He doesn’t cough as much this time, but he still guzzles down what’s left in the bottle. 

They spend a few minutes alternating the spliff, blowing air into eachothers faces. The room reeks of weed and it’s boiling hot. He wipes the back of his neck with his hand, a line of sweat gathering there. She twists the hem of his shirt between her index and thumb, pulling it up slightly. She doesn’t need to ask- he takes it off for her. 

“I started when I first moved here,” She finally answers his question from earlier, dragging a thumb down his cheek, rubbing the back of his jawline. “I think one of Mads’ friends gave her a bunch because she was moving- couldn’t take ‘em. Us three smoked them one night, it was fun,” She mumbles. It means she’s only been doing it for about 3 years now. 

He tilts his head, resting it against a pillow. She presses the pad of her thumb into his bottom lip that he’s unconsciously pouting out- asking for either another drag or a kiss. “Wanted to introduce you,” Her lips turn into a smirk, her eyes half-lidded.

“And why’s that?” He teases, his other hand moving down to her ass. Talia looks to the side behind him, a knowing look on her face. She pulls herself into his lap, effectively straddling him.

“I wanted to get high,” She states plainly, “and when I’m high- I’m horny. Wanted to be like that with you,” Her eyes are bright and her cheeky are rosy. Oscar kisses her cheek, experimenting with how his mouth is getting drier and more uncomfortable. Once he feels some moisture returning, he kisses further along her jaw. 

She has the spliff in her mouth which forces him away from her mouth. He focuses on her jaw and neck, suckling near her collarbone. She moans, tugging his hair and effectively his head back up. She places the joint in his mouth again and pulls on the pillow behind him. He tilts his head enough for her to move it out of the way, leaving him laying down almost completely flat. 

 He watches dazily as she pulls her top off, leaving her in a lacy white bra. He reaches out, his fingers barely feeling her flesh. He knows he’s touching her, she’s making noises to confirm it. “ More , more , fuck ,” She’s begging, her voice so desperate. Oscar wishes he wasn’t so fucking spacey right now so he could see how wanton she was over him. 

He tips his head forward, looking past where smoke is burning into his eyes. He’s apparently not just touching her bra, he’s touching her fully exposed breast. He hasn’t realised up until this point that he’s actually hard. 

“Can I shotgun you?” She asks, her fingers snaking over his nipples. He whimpers at the touch and his mouth drops open around the blunt. He knows he’s out of it, but he’s consciously thinking enough to know that shotgunning is either claiming the front seat in a car, or piercing a beer can and then drinking it as fast as possible.

He settles with the assumption it must be the second one. He lols his head to the side, searching for where the beer is. “Yeah,” He hums, his hand dropping down over the edge of the bed and his hand swinging with the intention of hitting a can that isn’t actually there.

Talia laughs, tugging on his bicep. “Shotgun- I puff smoke into your mouth,” She explains, her voice all raspy from being so dry. Oscar licks over his teeth, his mouth still painfully dry. His mind feels empty, the only resounding thought is just talia, talia, talia. There are a few other ideas, sex stuff, nothing coming close to being as important as making her happy.

She leans forward, plucking the joint from his mouth. He gets a breath of fresh air and begins to gasp for it- a telltale sign he’s had too much in one go. He hollows his cheeks, cleaning the taste of smoke out of his mouth with spit. It’s a useless attempt as it’s already well stained.

She slides two fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his bottom teeth. She lays down on him, her legs still hooked around his hips and a hand pressing to the headboard above him. Their chests are pressing together, her boobs heavy on him. He stares at them, shamelessly, his cock getting even harder to the point he’s beginning to actually feel it. 

“Can you suck my cock?” His voice is strangled and on the verge of incoherency because of her digits pressing into his tongue. She nods, kissing the tip of his nose. Her other hand is still holding onto the spliff, just sliding it against her wettened bottom lip. She finally sucks down on it, her lips twisting around it to keep the smoke in.

His mouth opens out of instinct, his eyes going bright just thinking about her mouth. The second their lips meet and he feels a slow release of smoke into his mouth, he feels like he’s dying. His eyes roll back and he grips a hand to the back of her head, pushing their mouths into each other’s harder.

He’s kissing her like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. It’s disgustingly dirty, a combination of spit, teeth, tongues and far too much moaning. Being stoned apparently just makes him feel everything . His lips are on fire, his throat is on fire, his eyes are on fire, his dick is on fire. 

Their mouths pull apart, sticky from the remnants of lip gloss that Talia has on. He peppers her face with a few more kisses, desperate for the stinging burn. They look at each other for a few moments, a complete disconnect from the two of them and the rest of the world. 

“You still want it?” She’s semi sitting up now, her elbows resting on where his hips are poking out from his low sitting shorts. His mind goes blank at the question, unsure of what she could possibly asking.

“What?” He lets out a puff of air, his hand mindlessly travelling through her hair. She nudges low down on his abdomen with her nose, making a weird squeaking whine. 

“Suck you off,” She looks up at him, the green in her eyes barely just a thin ring around her blown up pupils. Oscar nods, shifting further down the bed. Her fingers hook into his waistband, an invitation. His eyes flicker shut, already wasted off the feeling of her hands tugging his shorts down. 

Cold air whacks into the tops of his thighs, the dark fluffs of hair standing up. Oscar doesn’t need to tell her what to do, it seems like every time she’s gotten baked before this has been spent with her preparing for this. 

Talia begins aimlessly mouthing at his crotch, licking and kissing over where the head is resting. Her mouth is wetter than his, seemingly soaked with saliva. He takes a drag from the blunt, his fingers retracting and stretching to scratch her head. She purrs at the motion, getting more eager around him. 

“Cmon princess,” Oscar murmurs, helping to slide his boxers down to mid thigh. He doesn’t wince or shiver when it meets the cold air as there’s barely any time for it to do so. The second he’s fully undressed, her warm mouth is engulfing his length. 

She bobs her head up and down, her lips tightening around his shaft and her cheeks hollowing for him. He’s pushing her head down without realising, the pressure is light but definitely suggestive. 

She doesn’t gag, just takes him further. He encourages her with a string of moans mindlessly escaping his mouth, mixed in with ‘ oh god, good girl’ and ‘that's perfect, princess, keep going’. He’ll smoke or eat edibles every weekend if this is how getting head feels like when he does.

Her nose presses into his crotch, her throat muscles working hard to accommodate the intrusion of him. He tries to touch her, help her get off while she’s giving him the blowjob he’s ever received but the way she’s lying with the rest of her body so far away, he settles for focusing the pleasure elsewhere.

He rubs his thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. She whimpers and whines, her moans choking into noises that sound like she’s crying. Her face is reddened and her hair is sweaty, her fringe plastered down to her forehead with sweat.

“Close, I’m close,” He twists some of her hair around his index, his middle finger tapping into the top of her hair. She looks up at him with glassy eyes and tensed eyebrows. 

“In me,” She gags around his length. She doesn’t need to ask twice. He fucks his hips up into her mouth, forcing a moan and a gag from the back of her throat as he releases into her. 

He feels spent, his body aching worse than it did back at home. 

She pulls off slowly, her lips oiled with spit and cum. Her neck muscles flicker with tension as she swallows it down. That’s new. She’s strictly been a ‘spitter’ to this very moment. He wipes a drop of cum off her lip and kisses her deep. He tastes himself in her mouth but there's hardly any recognition for it. He doesn’t care enough to be disgusted about it, nothing about kissing her is disgusting.

“You’re perfect,” He slips his tongue into her mouth, tugging her up to be laying on top of him. “Wanna make you feel good,” He moves his head, kissing down her neck.

Talia lets out a noise of confirmation, “please,” she whines burying her fingers against his scalp. From the awkward angle he’s at, he slips her pants down past her ass, her underwear at the same time. 

He rubs a finger over her wet hole, teasing it. She lets out a stifled whimper, burying her face further into Oscar’s chest. He slides the finger in slowly, watching the bits of her face that he can see intently. She’s shying away, forcing her face away from his view.

“You’re all shy now?” He teases, massaging one of her breasts with his palm. She doesn’t reply, just keens on him, desperate for more. He pushes his finger fully in, sliding it in and out. “Look at me, pretty,” He kisses her forehead, nudging the spot with his nose. 

She reluctantly looks up before snuggling into his neck. It’s a drastic difference from how she was only minutes earlier. He pushes a second finger in, knowing her all too well that she’s needy for it. She groans, scraping her teeth down along his shoulder.

He groans, throwing his head back. He knows what he’s doing, not needing to even look. He pushes in and out, deeper and just as controlled. Her walls tighten around him, her wetness slicking down over his palm and around his wrist. His thumb joins in, rubbing along her clit. 

“Oz,” it comes out all jagged and breathy. “Fuck- need to,” She can’t finish her sentences at this point, pushed so close to the edge. He gives her a whisper of allowance, his breath hot against her ear. 

“Come for me,” He instructs her, his thumb applying more pressure as he feels a gush of wetness spill down his occupied hand. She’s gasping, panting for air when it happens. His body is still trying to regain full senses from the weed, barely noticing how deep her nails are digging into his sides, leaving red crescent moons into his skin.

Once she’s come down from her high, Talia rolls onto the space next to him on the bed. They watch each other, laying on their sides as they share the joint. They puff smoke at each other, laughing over absolutely nothing. 

“You’re staying tonight?” Whether it's a statement or a question is unsure, just how she intended. Oscar cranes his head to where he can see the sun is peeking out and beginning to set. 

“Yeah, I’ll stay right here,” He hums as the two of them both nod off to a hazy, stoned induced sleep.

[freckliedan]

if they're both out, then why bother hiding their relationship / stuff like sharing a room and going on couple holidays? surely all of their fans know that they're together so i don't get the point of buying a home with 2 bedrooms and having a fake apartments? sorry very confused very casual fan here

hi!!! i am always so happy to share information, so ty for asking me about it! i'm going to take these questions piece by piece ^_^

if they're out why bother hiding: most of the examples of them taking serious steps to hide their relationship are from before they came out! they have been together since 2009, but dan wasn't even out to his family until 2019, shortly before he came out publicly.

why not come out sooner than that? i'll try to be brief and avoid rehashing dan's entire coming out video (which is worth watching). several reasons: he was severely bullied from early childhood onward for being gay—from before he even had the chance to consider if he was actually gay. his dad was homophobic to the point dan seems to have removed him from his life completely, & he was raised by religious grandparents so unsure of the reception there.

and significantly: he and phil were outed by a youtube glitch that leaked an extremely personal video in 2011 that leaked again on a broader scale about a year later. being outed was a part of the bullying dan had experienced so this was retraumatizing but on a bigger scale.

they had had SOME level of plausable deniability regarding their relationship before the leak, but hadn't been very actively closeting themselves before that point? and then the leak happened around when they were blowing up in popularity/around when youtube was becoming a viable career, so they were already grappling with sudden fame & a lot of other things happening in their lives at the time.

dan was 20 and phil was 24 the first time that video leaked; they were 21 and 25 and living in an apartment they couldn't afford on their own hoping the bbc would hire them (they did) the second time it did. it makes sense that they came down hard & firmly closeted themselves, especially dan, especially with what he's shared of his personal experiences.

2012-13 was the peak closet, but by 2015 they were already being more open—that's the first couple's trip they went on again after active closeting started. they've just become more and more open from there, but the peak closet era was so definitive that the public perception of them as not a couple WILL NOT SHIFT until they directly express that they are a couple.

they ARE out to fans as a couple, and imo have been since before they came out individually. they've said things along the lines of "we know you know" multiple times.

why not be definitive about their relationship status when they came out? it would've overshadowed them coming out as individuals and they didn't want that. it will be MASSIVE news when they hard launch their relationship. they went ambiguous with it on purpose in 2019 and succeeded.

so. to circle back to your questions.

why bother hiding their relationship? they haven't really since coming out. they've been living freely and being open about that in whatever ways are comfortable to them. they took some time out of the public eye for a while and i'm glad they got to have that so they could explore what happiness looks like without feeling the need to perform. but it was also something that was intentionally temporary!

at this point in time when they call each other friends or roommates etc they're fully doing a bit. like. it's funny! and it's funny at our expense which makes it even funnier—it's their turn to put us through some shit, you know? & the joke is more on people who AREN'T familiar with them than anyone else at this point. it's nice being in on things with them.

why hide sharing a bedroom? they haven't really since moving into their forever home! they have a bedroom and a guest room and there's a murphy bed in phil's filming space/personal office.

phil at some point made a comment that the murphy bed is for if they have two guests over at the same time—something that will only really read as "they share a bedroom" to people keeping track of rooms in their house.

i don't think that they share a bed they sleep in 100% of the time. which is like, normal and healthy? being able to sleep in a different bed when you want/need is NICE i've known so many people who keep seperate rooms in committed relationships and if i was rich enough i'd love having two bedrooms with beds in them in my relationship. even if we'd mostly sleep in the same place.

i also think having multiple beds means dan and phil can have freak sex in one and be lazy about clean up bc they have other beds so that's. a plus for them too.

but like. yeah. i think it's less that they're hiding that they share a bedroom and more that they share a bedroom but have better boundaries with their audience at this point—there stopped being video liveshows after they came out and they'd stopped doing liveshows from their actual bedroom when they moved in to the separate apartment situation.

+ the separate apartment situation was ONLY ever meant to be short term, & was a solution to the situation before that, when every room was in videos and it permanently felt like they were living in sets.

why hide couple holidays? they haven't since before coming out! they also go on a lot of double dates.

no sorries on the confusion and thank you for the chance to infodump!

[saturncoyote]

After much work i have finally written down my analysis on the fictional character Creek from hit children's movie Trolls 2016, open Read More on your own discretion because this shit is about to get long

Alright let's start with a small summary for the folks that have never watched a Trolls movie and don't really know anything about Creek outside of the plethora of art i've made about him

Creek is one of the movie's side characters and secondary villain, he is Poppy's (the main character) friend and acts as a short-of twist villain (i'll explain that 'short-of' later,). Although shown to be a stereotypical nature-loving hippie he later betrays his friends and everyone he's ever known as he sells out the location of their village to Bergens, a race who 20 years ago used to keep the pop trolls in a large cage and would eat them once a year during a holiday called Trollstice.

He is first introduced when Branch (the movie's second protagonist) is confronting Poppy about her decision to throw a party, arguing that this could attract the attention of the Bergens, this is also where my first point about Creek's character begins First thing to notice is that, unlike what some people would like you to believe, Creek is NOT the only troll in Poppy's friend group (the Snack Pack) to be dismissive towards Branch, if anything Poppy herself is the only one in the group that seems to want to give him a chance ("i think everyone deserves to be happy"). Creek also shows up late to the conversation, only appearing once Branch escalates the situation by throwing Poppy's party invitation to the floor and stomping on it. You could easily argue that, in Creek's perspective, he is only doing what a good friend should do and protecting his friend from someone who is being cruel towards them, and although Branch has a GOOD reason to be upset and we later find out more about his backstory, there is no reason for us to believe that Creek or even the rest of the Snack Pack know anything about his situation, to THEM Branch is nothing but a party pooper who actively chooses to stay miserable ("some folks just don't want to be happy")

One point that i sometimes see that i would like to snip in the bud as soon as possible is that Creek doesn't truly care about his friends, especially Poppy, and is only using her to get something out of her (what exactly ? well we don't know, we could especulate that since she is the princess, he may want to use her for her status, possibly wanting to become royalty himself, but we're not here for that), the reason i bring this up now is because of the scene that follows the interaction with Branch, where Creek is the first one to notice that Poppy is still upset about the results of the conversation, not only that but he doesn't seem too happy about it himself

It would have been extremelly easy to animate him smiling or looking smug after Branch storms off, but that doesn't happen, he even glances down at the ground before looking towards Poppy, which is when he attempts to cheer her up. This small scene ALONE already leads me to believe that he truly does care, and although his attempts at cheering her up aren't exactly the best nor the most productive ("tune out his negative vibrations Poppy, they're toxic") he is still trying.

However we do not get enough time to find out more about his relationship with Poppy outside of this very moment as the next scene in the movie is the party and their imminent capture by the Chef Bergen, this is where i'd like to remind you that i called him only a "short-of" twist villain. For a twist villain to truly work we first need to understand why this character is considered to be a "good guy", and their relationship with the protagonist, so that the incoming reveal of them being the antagonist has a impact, not only on the other characters, but the audience themselves. The thing about Creek is that we don't GET that insight into his relationship with Poppy, they interact TWICE before the reveal, and one of those interactions is Poppy attempting to save him from being carried away by a Bergen, therefore the "twist" itself falls flat... but what if i told you that was done on purpose by Dreamworks ?

Before the existence of Creek there was another character who was meant to take his place in the storyline, and her name was Miss Guffin

According to concept art, Miss Guffin was originally going to be Poppy's mentor, and be captured by the Chef Bergen, and much like Creek she would sell out the other trolls as an attempt to save herself. Now that would have had a much bigger impact, not only on the audience as they realise that the respectful elderly character was a selfish coward at heart, but for Poppy as she would have had a much closer relationship with Guffin as her mentor. So why was she changed ? It's simple really, she was just too likeable.

Creek, by design, was created to be unlikeable, not only so that his reveal wouldn't upset the audience, but so that you wouldn't feel pity about his eventual demise. THIS is what i mean when i refer to him as a character "doomed by the narrative", he only exists because a much more appealing character had to be turned down for the sole reason of not upsetting those who watch the movie, he would never have been allowed to have a closer relationship with Poppy, because that would have given the viewer a emotional attachment to him, and we can't have that. Creek is a tragic character in the sense that he was destined to be the traitor, not only a traitor but a unredeemable one, and i understand why that is, there was never going to be enough time in the movie to give him a satisfying redemption, and it would have thrown off the entire flow of the story, killing him off was a much easier choice than trying to squeeze an awkward redemption at the very end, but that doesn't stop me from wishing that there WAS more. His fate feels unfair to me, as his only crime is being kind of a dickhead, and it's hard to blame him for his decision to sell out Pop Village when his only other option wasn't much better, so let's talk about that next.

In the next scene where we see Creek, him and the rest of the Snack Pack have been put in a cage by the Chef, this is where i'd like to point out that his first reaction to this predicament is to try and get everyone else to stay calm ("Woah, woah ! Everyone, we must all remain calm") This scene leads directly to the one where he gets nearly eaten by King Gristle, and when i say nearly i mean it, he is shoved INTO his mouth and assumed dead by everyone except for Poppy, who is only holding out hope that he is still alive. Of course we later find out that he is indeed, not dead, but that is only because he clung to Gristle's uvula causing him to choke and spit him out. The way we find out that he is alive is through Gristle himself, who reveals to Bridget that he has him locked inside his cape's clasp

Notice how little space he has in there, i'd say barely any to move let alone breathe, as he lets out a desperate gasp just as the clasp is opened. We do not know how much time has passed since he escaped being nearly eaten alive, but we can estimate it has to have been at least a few hours, as quite a few events happen between the formerly mentioned scene and this one. We do NOT get to see what happens between him, Gristle and the Chef during that time, which means we can only ESPECULATE why he was put in there in the first place, so allow me to do just that:

- Firstly, we do not know if Creek agreed right away to the Chef's request to reveal the location of the village, for all we know he might have declined to do so, and putting him into a small claustrophobic space was a way to give him that final push. - However this could have also been a way to stop him from escaping and telling the other trolls of the Bergen's plan, but i fail to see why they would have had to resort to such a, let's be honest here, barbaric method of keeping him put, when a normal cage would have done the job just as well, perhaps the Chef wanted to make sure he wouldn't change his mind. - Thirdly, this could have been a way to have someone keep an eye on him as the Chef busied herself with other things, essentially making Gristle the guard to Creek's prison No matter what option you decide makes the most sense, one thing is clear: Creek was tortured

At last we finally reach the moment he reveals to Poppy, Branch and the rest of the Snack Pack that he plans on betraying all of them and selling out the location of the village, this is the scene that is supposed to make you despise him, for being so cowardly and selfish that he'd rather let everyone he's ever known die horribly than.... give up his own life ? Hold up did i read that right, oh... hm Creek is a character who finds himself in a situation out of his control and is forced to make a decision between two truly awful options, he can either let himself be eaten or everyone else goes, there is NOT a correct answer here, and in the end his sense of self preservation wins. A decision probably influenced by the fact that before this moment, he had spent hours trapped in a small space with barely enough oxygen. There was NEVER going to be another way, as the Chef states herself:

Especially bringing attention to how he acts in this scene, to me it comes across less like he's finally showing his true colors as a manipulative person, and more like he's desperately trying to justify his actions not only to Poppy but to himself ("At least you get to die with a clear conscience")

And it seems like he's successful in doing so, for him at least, what other options does he have ? It's either give up your own life, or convince yourself that what you're about to do isn't truly that bad, he chooses to look at it with a positive outlook, ignoring the very obviously bleak reality he finds himself in ("So in a way... You could say... I'm doing this for you")

Another thing about this scene is that we don't really get to see his true feelings on the situation, as during this conversation the Chef Bergen is actively sharpening knifes in the background, even if he did want to come up with a escape plan or air out how he feels about this predicament they find themselves in, he would be unable to do so, as the person who could easily just snatch him up and kill him right then and there stands in the very same room. And that is a recurring thing when it comes to Creek, we don't get to SEE much of him, we don't see the events leading up to his betrayal, we don't really get to see his relationship with Poppy or even the rest of the Snack Pack for that matter, we don't SEE how he feels about being trapped inside Gristle's cape clasp or having to choose between himself or his friends, and honestly we probably never will. For a secondary villain he barely gets any screen time at all, and the screen time he does get is spent in near constant live-threatening danger.

And finally, his story comes to an end, the Bergens discover true happyness, Chef Bergen is defeated, and the last time we see Creek he's getting swallowed up by a mountain sized creature, the very thing he tried so hard to save himself from, to the point that he would give up everyone he's ever loved, happens regardless of his choice, was he even given a choice in the first place ? When both options led him to the same fate ? I would say it's almost tragically poetic if it didn't feel like salt to the wound.

Of course, Trolls: The Beat Goes On exists, but it's not even close to being a good continuation of his character let alone a satisfying redemption, his introduction is incredibly rushed, characters who have no reason to forgive him for his actions immediatelly welcome him back with open arms, and the one person who doesn't do so is shown to be in the wrong even though his reaction and suspicion make complete sense.

Besides, TBGO is it's own can of worms and opening it now would only make this post longer than it needs to be, so i'll spare you from that.

My final point is that Creek is a much more complex and interesting character than the story would like you to believe, and it CAN be quite frustating seeing people brush him off as just a selfish fraud who never truly cared about anyone but himself when there's really so much more under the surface. Of course i'm not saying that you should love him, hell you don't even need to like him, he has a lot of flaws and has made terrible decisions, but that's also exactly the reason why i am so keen on giving him a better ending. He shouldn't need to be perfect to deserve a nicer fate, to be given an actual choice for once, one that isn't going to blow up in his face in the end, the ability to be better and do better. You don't deserve to be tossed aside just because you have a big ego or some other personal flaw, you don't deserve to be considered unredeemable because you were put in a situation out of your control, making a bad decision shouldn't define your existence for the rest of your life.

I've come to accept that Creek is a very important character to me, he's a character who NEEDS to be selfish for the story to work the way it does, one who's the narrative is actively trying to make as unlikeable as possible at all times, but it's attempts had an opposite effect on me, and the more i dug only solidified him as my favorite in the entire franchise. I love him because of his unused potential, potential that'll most likely never get a true chance to shine due to Dreamworks not seeming to really care about him as a character, so i have taken upon myself to do what canon failed to. If i had to pick ONE THING for folks that read this post to get out of it, is that you should never be embarassed of your enjoyment for a fictional character, no matter how unlikeable or one-dimensional they seem to be, analyse every frame they show up in, write that fanfic, draw that art, create that self indulgent AU, find meaning where no one else did

[callofdudes]

Hello how are you are you good? May I ask for some headcanons? Please make it longer if possible. A wonderful cook with a female reader. For Ghost Simon and (separately)Konig, please? if you do this can you tag me in the post too please? have a nice day

No I totally didn't lose this in my drafts while trying to come up with stuff. I do hope the length is ok, sorry that it took so long 😓

Y'all are wholesale today! I like it! Thank you for the request @simligul I tried to make it as long as I could so I hope you enjoy.

Female! Cook x The Tall Boys.

(Each tall boy sold separately)

Ghost:

He cannot cook to save his life. He knows how to put honey on bread and that is the extent of his knowledge.

He's gotten used to the MRE's that they're mandated to eat, but the first time you cook him a meal from scratch he falls more than he thought he ever could.

This man straight up either eats MRE's when he's at home or orders skip the dishes constantly to the point where it's kind of unhealthy.

Before you were living together he didn't know you could cook. He'd taken you out to restaurants but hadn't ever witnessed you active in a kitchen before.

So when he does...

You smile when he approached the kitchen, curious of the wonderful smells that are being produced. His nose leads him right to you in your apron with stains all over the cloth.

"What is this?" He asks, admiring the scene from the doorway and the apron you wore.

"What do you think? I'm making food."

He poked his head around and eyed the different ingredients simmering and popping in pans on the stove and his stomach cries out loudly. He looks back at you and you laugh at how he's practically begging you with his eyes. "Get out of my kitchen, I'll call you when it's done!"

He will come back every now and then to check on you (and the food).

When you finally set up the table and call him to eat he is borderline hyper. He sees all the steaming beautiful food and he will devour it all.

You are too good for him. Before he even sits down he will assure you that it looks absolutely delicious.

When he does manage to sit down and starts eating his stomach is beyond grateful. He had gotten so used to eating MRE's that he had genuine forgotten what it was like to eat a real meal. When he gets through the first three thrill bites his stomach grows three times the size. You yourself are a bit surprised by how much he ate. You barely had any leftovers to pack up.

Full of food and warm he'll hug you from behind while your washing the dishes and mutter thanks into your neck.

He'll hang around you for the rest of the evening and gratefully crash next to you in pure bliss.

From the day you first cooked for him forth Ghost longs for the days when he can return from war to your loving arms and a home cooked meal.

After going back to camp he'll occasionally mention that the food there tastes like shit compared to what you can make. This causes Soap to want to come with him on leave just to taste your food.

"I've missed you." He'll hug you close and rest against you for a while before taking off his head and stepping into the living room. Before he can even take his boots off he can smell the thick aroma of food. His stomach praises you loudly, making you giggle.

He takes off all his things and kisses you before going over to the kitchen. Again he will praise you for every bit of food on the table.

If he comes home after you've already packed up for bed, he'll check the fridge for food and there will be a little sticky note on the containers of leftovers. "Hey love. Sorry I couldn't be there to greet you. Tonight's dinner is xyz, have as much as you'd like."

He misses you when he isn't able to come back for the holidays. He loves hanging out with you around Christmas and Thanksgiving. But the food you make is so good around the holidays. He's always surprised by just how much effort you put into meals.

He tries to keep mention of you around base low. While he enjoys talking about you, he doesn't like the constant teasing from the others. But when Johnny starts to hear more about how good a cook you supposedly are, he is on his knees begging to come back to Simon's home with him for the holidays. And Simon was going to refuse, until somehow he didn't.

He thought you were going to be abrasive about all the guests when he showed up at his home with Price, Johnny, and Kyle right behind him, but you welcomed them with open arms.

Ghost smiled when you opened your arms and welcomed Price into your home. How you smiled so kindly and you were genuinely happy they were there.

There was no anger for being intruded on or barging to reach your husband, it was heartwarming to watch how you treated them.

When you'd met everyone and shaken their hands, you greeted Simon who was still taking his coat off. But that didn't matter. You pulled him into a short kiss before urging him toward the couch.

Simon and Price tried to help you with setting up the guest bedroom but you weren't having it.

"You lot must be exhausted. Sit, I'll have supper prepared in an hour." Simon smiled. "You're wonderful." You shoved him down onto the couch. "Rest, hang out with your friends." And you walked off to start preparing the guest room for the three.

You were right to assume they were exhausted. They tore their gear off and settled down on the couches. Finally getting to watch some good TV.

They didn't bother to move for the rest of the evening until you called them to dinner.

"Dinner is served boys!"

Kyle and Johnny were the first ones up and sprinting for the kitchen. Their stomachs empty of anything but the McDonald's they'd had early before their flight out.

Johnny was in heaven when he came in and saw the food. It was enough to feed a small army. He grabbed your hands and shook them roughly. "Oh Mrs. Riley you're an angel." You chuckled and handed him a plate as Simon and Price came in to inspect the food. "Take as much as you'd like, don't worry about leftovers and if I need to make more I can."

"Thank you ma'am." Price served himself.

Once they'd vacated the kitchen Simon gave you another kiss and took what the boys had left. "Do you want any?" He asked.

"Have it darling. You deserve it."

The boys were impressed with your cooking the first time. But when the 25 of December rolled around three days later it was a feast. You were happy to have Simon's friends along with your family for Christmas.

"Any friend of Simon's is a friend of mine. You are always welcome in our home."

Jokingly you get Simon a cookbook for Christmas so he can take it to the base with him. Whenever he gets the chance to go shopping (which is rarely) at least he'll be able to make something comprehendable with the foods.

Simon does eventually ask you to teach him to cook. And you'd thought he'd never ask. You started with basic recipes, something he could remember easily and come back to. A starter. And then you got out of hand. Sauce all over your apron and Simon getting his oil covered fingers all over you.

You taught him to bake as well. Because who else is going to make the 141 cookies? You couldn't keep sending them in boxes every month when mail slots opened up.

Simon enjoys baking more than cooking. He will lick all the utensils. If you're making chocolate cookies he'll lick the spoon/spatula/whisk, whatever you used he'll lick it clean. And you need to constantly supervise him when baking because will 100% eat raw cookie dough without fear of consequences.

"Simon! Don't eat that! You'll get sick!"

"fuck off!" He'll say as he playfully pushes you away and grabs another handful of dough.

If he ever comes across a dish he likes or thinks he'd like, he'll send a picture of it to you. When he goes to Mexico Rodolfo takes care of meals for the group and If Ghost likes something he'll hint you off like, "Hey Y/N, look at this really delicious looking dish... A shame I'll only be able to eat it once. Unless..."

Another thing he enjoys about it, is not just the food. But watching you cook. You have a smile on your face the whole time and you seem in utter bliss to cook for you, him, or anyone else.

And the apron.

Teasingly pulling on the strings from behind you or helping you take it off. It's small but it manages to mesmerize him every time.

If you are part of the military most of this still stands, when you first cool for him and the boys he's stunned and amazed. Maybe he's a little annoyed that you didn't start making food sooner when everyone was bitching and moaning about MRE's.

In the very, very, very rare instances where Simon is sick you're the type to not let him out of bed. Simon is either so sick he's unable to move or he can power through it, there is no difference to you. You'll lay him in bed and bring in a warm bowl of soup. And while Simon protests you'll cup his jaw and help him eat.

"I don't need help-"

"Shh, lay down Simon, let me take care of you."

"I hate how sweet you are."

"I love you too."

König:

König knows a little about cooking, but not a lot. His mother taught him him how to make basic cultural dishes including some sweets.

He enjoys cooking on the occasion but the military doesn't offer him much for culinary adventure. So he's become less fluent. Put him in a kitchen however and he could make you a warm meal from his heart.

When you first cook for him, his mouth is watering. He's absolutely starving when he gets home from base and his surprise when he came to see you and your house was swimming with the smells of culinary love.

He'll slip into the kitchen and eyeball all the stuff that's going on. In a heartbeat he's on his knees for whatever your making.

"Darling- please! I haven't eaten a proper meal in so long!"

"Get out of my Kitchen König, I will call you when it's ready. Just rest."

This man will sit by the corner of your kitchen. He will make sure he's pressed up against the wall but not entering the space. He'll crawl into a ball and whimper to make sure you remember he's sitting there.

"König, it'll only take a couple of minutes." You chuckled when he starts to slowly drag himself back into the kitchen hoping you wouldn't notice.

When you finish up he is giving you the biggest puppy eyes he can. It's as if his irises grew in size, they're practically sparkling when you motion with your finger and he jumps up. "YES! Thank you!"

He grabs a plate and doesn't hold back to shovel food onto his plate and rush to the table to consume it all. There is barely enough for you this big boy took so much.

He's scarfing it down when you take your seat and all you can do is just lovingly stare at him. His eyes are practically glazed over when he tastes it on his tongue.

"Darling, this is absolutely amazing, thank you."

"You're welcome König, you deserve it."

This man goes into a full food comma. When he's out his plate in the dishwasher he goes and passes out on the couch. You find it absolutely adorable.

He's just passed out. Usually when König comes back home it takes him at least a day or two to take the hood off and another couple to full relax. But tired and full it's the first time you've seen him throw his hood on the coffee table and just pass out without a worry.

You're not even complaining.

König and you exchange recipes. While you teach him some of the dishes he doesn't know how to make, he'll show you how to make dishes from his home.

When he gets back he will not shut up about you. He won't tell new recruits or other members unless their already friends, subject of his anxiety. But he loves to talk about you with his small group of friends and his operatives team. You're his shining light.

When he starts digging into military food again his head is just filling with all the ways you could cook this so much better and slop in a tube was just as bad as it was when he first signed up.

He finds himself getting particularly homesick now whenever he eats food that is not cooked by you. He always thinks about the dish and it will relate back to you in some way.

After König teaches you to make his favorite sweets, you make sure to send him a tightly sealed box of them every month for him. (If they can survive over time ofc)

He shares with his team because he wants them to also taste your baking and cooking. He will proudly tell them how wonderful you are and after tasting the sweets they all agree.

König is a little more lenient with his leave time, so he gets to see you somewhat more often then others. When he returns again around Thanksgiving he isn't expecting utterly extravagant meal he finds.

He slouched against the door, tired and gross. He looks up when you come over. Your apron on and your hair up. You gasp when you see him. "I thought you were coming back tomorrow?"

König tiredly shakes his hand and opens his arms for you to rush into. He's sore but he hugs you tightly. You smell of freshly baked goods and spices. He breathes you in deeply and he knows he's home. He sighs and nuzzles his forehead against yours.

"I've got food on the table love, come join whenever you're ready."

"Thank you meine liebe."

When he does join you he takes in all the smells of home. His mind and his body starting to relax just at the hand of the fruits of your labor.

You guide him to the table and get him a plate. The area is well lit when he returns to make him feel comfortable.

The two of you will talk as he eats. And it's not unusual for him to go back for seconds or thirds. Sometimes if he's extra hungry he'll raid the pantry for food.

Crashing in bed after a warm meal is the best feeling. His stomach sated, he wraps his arms around you and feels his worries slip away.

You crawl in bed next to him and snuggle up against him. "Goodnight" and despite his food coma, König pulls you to his chest, content to stay here forever.

When he's on leave he offers to bring Horangi back to stay with you both, just so you can taste the food. He has no plans for his leave except sitting in the kitchen and enjoying whatever warm meal you've set up for him.

Bringing Horangi back then were both incredibly excited about your cooking. König could almost taste it and Horangi had heard many good things.

You were overjoyed to have Horangi over and cooked a feast for the two. Horangi's mouth was watering and all König could say was "Seeeee!"

Both König and Horangi sit by the kitchen entrance, watching you like cats going back and forth, back and forth.

The smell of the food is not lost on them when you bring them into the kitchen finally. Seeing everything you've prepared.

"This looks stunning ma'am, thank you a thousand times for having me." Horangi took your hands and squeezed them, unable to contain his excitement. Or his hunger. His stomach started to snarl before he could finish his expression of gratitude.

You once again stand back and let the men eat what the want. You weren't at all surprised when Horangi had just the appetite that König did.

It was funny watching them talk while they feasted, occasionally melting and having a brain aneurysm over how good it was.

Compared to the food on base, Horangi will now get on his knees and kiss the ground you walk on. You are a fucking angel for taking care of him when he comes over.

He will not stop talking about "König's wife can cook!! And you don't get any of it, because you're not invited! 😏"

König is just glad you're there for his friends, willing to provide hospitality and food. You can't turn down anyone it seems.

But he wouldn't change that about you.

He loves to dance in the kitchen with you. If you're cooking something and you have music in the background, König will come over, hands cupping your waist and drawing you toward him.

"And what are you doing??" You hold a spatula covered in sauce up to him and he licks it happily. "What does it look like??" You pulls you in and twirls you around the kitchen.

"König, watch out for the stove." You giggle.

He keeps turning and spinning you, pressing kisses to your throat and cheeks.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too you big goof."

He smiles, nuzzling against your neck, the smell of the spices imprinting on your skin. They must have. After you've cooked an apple pie you still smell of cinnamon. And it drives him crazy.

König loves you so much, he wouldn't dream his life any other way. And certainly not without you in it. He gives you another kiss and you shove him out of your kitchen.

"Food isn't really yet."

"But looooove-!" He whines.

"No, you'll have to wait. Like a good boy." You smirk.

He huffs, but he can't say no to that. So he plops down and sits longingly at the entrance of the kitchen, watching you as you cook.

[olomaya]

Sludge Be Gone! Toddler Food and Snacks

2-Sep Update: Thank you @jeebeehey for the French translation. Please redownload if you'd like them.

25 July update:

Fixed an issue where the Trail Mix was resetting Sims. One of its components got lost when I was merging all the objects together so it kept giving an error when trying to pull it up. It should now not happen for either the high chair or the activity table. Redownload both the MAIN and the merged Objects file

24 July update: Thanks to @simdreams and @zanynka for the Brazilian Portuguese and Czech translations! You can redownload at the links below.

(Update: I forgot to include one of the files in the Objects file. It's just a little piece of food that toddlers pick up when eating snacks. If you downloaded both files already, you don't need to redownload anything, just download the file and add to your game.) (Just download the updated Objects file)

They literally call the baby food "sludge" in the game files. EA really did TS3 toddlers dirty.

This was actually originally part of my Quickie Food and Snacks mod and I abandoned it (this seems to be a theme with me). But then I came back to it after TS4 Growing Together came out. I still haven't played that game but I know there's a preference/taste system in the game for baby food, which is really cool!

So this mod adds two interactions to the high chair to feed toddlers meals or snacks. There are 11 meals and 5 snacks. Similar to Growing Together, toddlers will love, like or hate certain foods. This preference is based on their favorite food (see more after the cut).

The foods work somewhat similar to recipes in that they require ingredients to be available. However, you only need to have at least 1 ingredient. Whatever ingredients you have will be used for the meal/snack. The icon images will tell you which 3 ingredients are required.

Teens+ can serve toddlers and they will stay and watch to make sure the toddler eats like a good little girl/boy.

There was a second complementary mod to close out this little series that would allow toddlers to eat their foods and snacks on their own on little tables but I probably won't have the time to finish testing it before I go on my summer holidays so I'll release it sometime end of next month when I'm back.

Credit/thanks: The food tray and bowl is from @aroundthesims. All other assets are from EA (TS3 and TS4). Icons are from Freepik.

Download HERE / Alternative: SFS

Enjoy! I'll be totally offline starting 1 July for about 2 weeks so do let me know before then if you run into any issues!

More info and details on features after the cut

Meal/Snack recipes: Each meal or snack requires 1-3 ingredients (either in your fridge or personal inventory) to be available. Again, you only NEED 1 of 3. Some of the ingredients are from the Store or cc (Icemunmun's Baker's Basket or Hot Chili) but if you don't have it, the game will just ignore it. If you have none, it won't be available.

Food categories/preferences: Preferences are based on the toddler's favorite food and along 4 categories: Sweet, Savory, Veggie and Cheese. So based on what their favorite food is, you can tell what their food preference category is. If you change the toddler's favorite food after playing with the mod, it will adjust to their new tastes BUT will keep whatever food they liked or hated before.

Category Preferences:

Sweet hates Veggie

Veggie hates Sweet AND Savory

Savory hates Sweet

Cheese is chill and can give or take anything

Here is the detailed breakdown below (if you want to be surprised and figure it out for yourself in the game, you can stop reading here):

SW - Sweet, SV - Savory, VG - Veggie, CH - Cheese Store - TS3 Store BB - Icemunmun’s Baker’s Basket HC - Icemunmun’s Hot Chili

Snacks: Trail Mix (SW) - Banana, Walnut (BB), Pecan (Store) Cheese Crackers (CH) - Cheese Apple Slices w. Almond Butter (SW, CH) - Apple, Cheese, Almond (BB) Cucumber Tuna Bites (SV) - Cucumber (Store), Tuna, Tomato Pita Chips w. Carrot Hummus (VG) - Chickpea (HC), Carrot, Lemon

Meals: Chickpea Salad (VG) - Chickpea (HC), Carrot, Watermelon PBJ Sandwich (SW) - Strawberry (Store), Almond (BB)  Pancakes and Sausage (SW) - Any fruit, Sausage links Chicken Nuggets (SV) - Chicken, Carrot, Blueberry (Store) Fishsticks (SV) - Any fish, Potato, Carrot  Meatballs w. Yogurt Sauce (SV) - Patty, Cucumber (Store), Tomato Mushroom Omelet (VG) - Egg, White Cap mushroom, Onion Fried Plantains (SW) - Banana (I considered making a custom plantain ingredient but too lazy), Tomato, Onion Falafel w. Yogurt Sauce (VG) - Chickpea (HC), Cucumber (Store), Tomato Cheese Ravioli (CH) - Cheese, Tomato, Strawberry (Store) Mac and Cheese (CH) - Cheese

So for example, the toddler in the photos, Duncan. His favorite food is Fried Peanut Butter Banana Sandwich (oh, America) which is in the Sweet category. So I know he will eat any of the sweet category foods. He tossed the mushroom omelet when I served it to him but he likes mac and cheese.

@kpccfinds @pis3update @s3cc-finds

[justabigassnerd]

Protective Friend

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 2,182

Warnings - physical violence, mentions of cheating, blood, angst, mentions of Goose, fluff

Summary - after someone picks on Bradley one too many times, you handle the situation and secretly impress your father

A/N - it's been a minute huh, y'all? I think I'm doing a bit better (no promises), so maybe I'll be uploading more fics. anyway I won't bore y'all with a long A/N so as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy

Growing up alongside the Bradshaw family, it was basically inevitable that you would become best friends with Bradley Bradshaw. After all, you’d practically known the family since birth with your dad working alongside your Uncle Goose and it had devastated you when Goose died, understanding the finality of it all even at a young age. After Goose passed you made even more of an effort to be a good friend to Bradley, doing your best to keep a smile on his face.

However, the kids at your school were not nearly as kind. They had found out that Goose had died one day during an activity in the build-up to the summer holidays where your teacher gave you the freedom to make Father’s Day cards to store somewhere safe until the day came and Bradley had innocently asked your teacher what he was supposed to do. When the teacher had crossed the room to crouch down alongside him to ask why he couldn’t write a card for his dad, some kids had overheard him saying that his dad was dead and apparently thought it was the funniest thing to them. The teasing started off light before it got worse, but you could tell it bothered Bradley all the same, especially given the sensitivity of the topic. You ended up telling your dad about the teasing and bullying and without hesitation, Maverick had gone straight to Carole to make sure she was aware as well. Carole, of course, wasted no time going to the principal and telling him about how he needs to be doing better in making sure the bullies get punished.

When the principal did nothing about it, nonchalantly saying he couldn’t control kids’ actions, Carole went and tracked down the parents of the kids who were picking on Bradley after you gave them their names. Once again, Carole reached a brick wall as when she spoke to the various parents of the kids, they just shrugged her off and said that both Bradley and Carole needed to stop being so sensitive over something that happened years ago and that a bit of friendly teasing wasn’t hurting anyone so according to them, Bradley simply had to man up and learn how to take a joke. It took everything within Carole not to slap anyone when she heard the same answer multiple times. Her son was being bullied and no one was doing anything about it when this was the time to step up and do something. She didn’t care if had been ten minutes or ten years since Goose’s passing, he was still Bradley’s father, and her son was allowed to mourn the loss he suffered.

When Carole next met up with Maverick and filled him in on what had happened, Maverick immediately offered to give it a try himself, more than willing to be assertive and to even drag Iceman into it if needed. Carole told Maverick not to worry about it, and that he probably wouldn’t get much further than she did, even with Iceman.

“Do you want me to sleep with their wives?” Maverick had jokingly suggested which resulted in Carole hiding her giggle as she lightly slapped Maverick on the shoulder.

“You wouldn’t dare.” She replied, continuing to laugh as Maverick shrugged jokingly.

“All I’m saying is I could give them the best night of their lives, end it then and there and then ruin their marriage. That’ll teach them for picking on Bradley.” Maverick says nonchalantly, leaning back against the sofa with a grin.

“Mav, I love you, but no you can’t ruin people’s marriages over this.” Carole says as Maverick holds his hands up in mock surrender, both of them chuckling lightly.

“It was a good idea though.”

A couple of days later, one Saturday morning, you managed to coerce Maverick into taking you to the local playground and when you asked if Bradley could come with you and so he walked you over to the house just down the road and asked Carole if Bradley wanted to come to the park with the two of you. Carole was of course extended an invitation to join you all, but she politely declined, saying she had housework she needed to do. Now with Bradley in tow, the three of you make your way to the park, entering the gated park and both of you immediately head over to the swings while Maverick sits himself on a bench just outside of the park, watching you play with a soft smile.

However, at the most crucial moment, Maverick found himself distracted by a pair of attractive women who smiled flirtatiously at him as they passed, deciding that since both you and Bradley were happily playing in the park, he had the perfect opportunity to strike up a conversation with them.

In the park, a boy that was in your grade named Johnny decided he wanted to pick on Bradley, calling over to him and once again picking on him for the fact his dad was dead the moment, he realised you had crossed the park to talk to another one of your friends.

“Stop it.” Bradley said firmly, standing from the swing and attempting to stand up for himself against the bullies.

“What are you going to do? Tell your dad?” Johnny said before eyeing the way Bradley’s hand clenched around something hanging on his chest.

“What’s that?” He then asked teasingly, eyes glinting with glee as Bradley took a step back, fist tightening around the dog tags that once belonged to his dad. With nothing more than a look exchanged between them, Johnny’s two friends put a hand on Bradley’s shoulders and forced him to the floor, while Johnny pried Bradley’s hand open and removed the precious dog tags from around his neck, inspecting them and chuckling to himself.

“Goose? What kind of stupid name is that?” Johnny says, reading the callsign displayed on the tags.

“Give them back!” Bradley cries out, attempting to get up and grab his dog tags but Johnny’s friends were quicker, forcing down on his shoulders harder to prevent him from moving.

Across the park, you had heard Bradley’s demand and so glanced over and immediately removed yourself from your conversation and immediately rushed over to Bradley’s defence, taking less than a second to realise what it was Johnny had stolen.

“Give it back, Johnny!” You say firmly, holding your hand out expectantly and gritting your teeth when Johnny just laughs in your face.

“And why would I do that?” He taunts, sniggering as he glances over at his friends who laugh too.

“Because you’re not going to like what I’m going to do next.”

Just as Maverick was bidding goodbye to the two women, making sure to give each of them a cheeky wink as they went, he turned to look back at the park and instead came face to face with a rageful-looking mother who had a boy alongside her who was holding a tissue up to his bleeding nose.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” The woman all but yells in Maverick’s face, barely giving him space to breathe, let alone process what she is saying.

“I’m sorry, what?” Maverick says, trying his best to calm the tension. He had recognised the kid instantly; you had pointed him out to your dad one afternoon when you had first told him about the bullying.

“Your brat of a daughter punched my sweet Johnny for no reason! I can’t believe you’d raise a child to think that’s okay.” The mother says, glaring at Maverick who takes a moment to glance over at you where you were crouching down alongside Bradley, clearly talking to him before taking a moment to look over at your dad with a worried expression.

“y/n wouldn’t hit someone.” Maverick says, getting up from the bench to be more level with the woman.

“She punched him!” She repeats, even louder and begins to get looks from people surrounding them.

“Okay, okay, cool your jets. I’ll speak to her.” Maverick says, waving his hand dismissively before crossing to the park gate, opening it and catching your eye before gesturing you over and waiting patiently for you to approach.

“Hi, dad.” You mumble, glancing down at your shoes to avoid looking Maverick in the eye.

“Hey squirt. So, I heard you punched that Johnny kid. Want to tell me what happened?” Maverick says, crouching down to be at your level and gently encouraging you to look at him. You mumbled something in response but none of it was audible to him.

“You gotta speak up kiddo.” Maverick encourages gently, reaching out and resting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing lightly, silently promising you he wouldn’t get upset.

“He took Uncle Goose’s dog tags from Bradley.” You say, a little louder so that Maverick can hear you. Upon hearing the reason you had lashed out; Maverick knew he couldn’t be mad at you at all, but he also knew he had to try and dissuade you from using violence in the future.

“Okay, sweetheart, you can’t punch people. I understand why you did it but if you’re ever in a situation like this, you come and get me, Carole, Ice, whoever. We’ll sort it out. I’m sure you did try but make sure you use your words. Punching people isn’t okay, no matter what it is they do.” Maverick says softly, watching as you carefully take in his words, nodding softly.

“Yes, daddy.” You say before Maverick gently pulls you into a hug.

“Go and grab Bradley and get ready to head back home. I’ll speak to Johnny’s mother.” Maverick says quietly before releasing you from the hug, letting you go over to Bradley then standing up and heading back over to Johnny and his mother.

“I didn’t see you disciplining your daughter. How do you know she won’t do it again?” Johnny’s mother says firmly, gripping her son’s shoulder and pulling him closer to emphasise the injury.

“I spoke to her, and she knows it’s wrong. But she did tell me that your son took something that was special to not only Bradley, but his family and my family too. And when your son clearly refused to give it back, she did what she thought she had to do. She won’t do it again, but I won’t say she wasn’t justified.” Maverick explains, folding his arms across his chest and raising an eyebrow as he anticipates her freakout.

“She hurt my son and you’re saying it’s justified?” The shock and horror was painted all over her face as she yelled at Maverick.

“I’m not going to lie to you and say she wasn’t justified in what she did. Your kid stole something special from Bradley and has been bullying him for a while. You have refused to teach your kid better so no I will not punish her for standing up for her friend.” Maverick says firmly, deciding then and there that the conversation is over and turning to find you and Bradley.

“Come on you two, we’re heading home!” Maverick calls over to you and Bradley and when you and Bradley rush over to him, he wraps an arm around each of your shoulders and ushers you away from the woman and her son and begins the walk home. First, you drop Bradley off at his house, both of you greeting Carole as she opens the door. Just before Bradley heads inside, and while Maverick is explaining what happened earlier to Carole, Bradley turns to face you with a small smile.

“Thank you for getting my dog tags back.” Bradley says softly, making you smile before hugging Bradley.

“You don’t need to thank me.” You insist gently, squeezing Bradley softly before releasing him from the hug and letting him head inside with Carole while Maverick wraps an arm around your shoulders and encourages you to head home with him.

When you make it home, Maverick guides you into the living room and asks you to stay put while he grabs you an icepack. He soon returns with an icepack in hand, sitting down alongside you and taking the hand you had punched Johnny with and placing the icepack on the knuckles, biting back a frown when you wince slightly.

“This should help with any swelling.” Maverick says tenderly, his voice quiet as he lets you hold the icepack in place.

“Are you mad at me?” You question quietly, eyes fixed on the icepack to avoid looking at your dad.

“No sweetheart, I’m not mad. I do wish you had handled it a little differently, but I can’t be mad at you for standing up for Bradley.” Maverick admits, watching as you finally get the courage to look up at him.

“I wish I didn’t punch him. But it was satisfying.” You say quietly, a shy smile covering your face as Maverick lets out a soft chuckle before carefully pulling you into a hug.

“Well between me and you. I think he had it coming.”

[atlafan]

Yes yes plz!! What about a holiday blurb of doctorry and patient y/n during the holidays? He is her doctor on Xmas or NYE 🧐 thoughts?

I sort of missed answering prompts???? Thanks for sending this in, I hope you like it! I ended up going with NYE

Warnings: mentions of blood, clumsiness, and smut!

-----------------------------------------------

Y/N isn't normally one to complain. Any time she thinks to, "Kim, there are people that are dying", swarms through her head.

The night started off so promising. Y/N was headed to a friend's part for NYE. Her friend's apartment has a great view of the fireworks. She was also excited because her friend said a very cute guy that Y/N should definitely meet would be attending. Not that Y/N is shallow, but when her friend said the man in question was a doctor, well, Y/N got a little giddy.

She was all dressed up and ready to go. A sequin dress, dark tights, and heels accompanied with a bold red lipstick. She was feeling good. A few friends thought it would be fun to pregame before going to the party. Just a few shots with the girlies, nothing crazy. Y/N was nervous to meet the doctor, so she had no qualms with pregaming.

Except, on the way to the party, since she was a little tipsy, Y/N stripped and fell on the sidewalk. Why they didn't just take an Uber, she'll never know. Her friends laughed until they saw Y/N's face. Her lips busted open and it's bleeding, her tights ripped at her knees, and one of them was gushing blood. And on top of all that, one of her heels broke. Her friends scooped her up, ordered an Uber, and took her to the emergency room.

Her knees were stinging, her lip was throbbing, and she;s just noticing how scraped up her palms are. She's trying to keep cool in front of her friends. This is a huge delay in their plans, and she feels terrible that it's because of her. Not to mention, what if the cute doctor guy ends up talking to some other girl because Y/N is stuck at the hospital.

One of the nurses gave her a compress to keep against the knee that was heavily bleeding while one of her friends helped fill out some forms.

"Guys, go on ahead to the party," she told them, "I'll be fine."

"We're not leaving you, Y/N. It's not even 9PM, we have plenty of time to get to Francesca's." One of her friends said.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" A nurse says her name blandly, no urgency, just annoyance in her tone.

"That's me." Y/N says, and stands up. One of her friends is ready to go with her, but the nurse holds up her hand.

"Just the patient, unless you're family. We still have some COVID procedures here."

Y/N followed the nurse into a small room where she took her vitals. Y/N was still actively bleeding from her knee and lip, but the nurse didn't seem to care, or think it was that big of a deal.

"Alright, the doctor should be in shortly." The nurse and leaves the room before Y/N can ask any questions.

It takes ten minutes until she hears a knock on the door and the doctor comes in.

"Hi, sorry. I was halfway out the door when they asked me to stay, so I had to get back into my scrubs and..." The doctor looks at Y/N who is now sobbing. She's been silently crying for about five minutes, but now the floodgates are open. "You must be in a lot of pain." He sits on the stool and scoots over to her. "Let's take a look at that knee."

"I'm s-sorry." She cries. "I ruined my own night, my friends' night, and now yours." She hiccups, then hisses when the doctor takes the compress off her knee.

"You didn't ruin my night, don't worry." He gets up and puts some gloves on, then grabs the necessary items needed to clean the wound. "This'll sting a little. Feel free to grab my shoulder or something if you need something to hold onto."

"Do you think I'll need stitch-ow!" Out of instinct, she presses his chest with her foot and pushes him back. "What the hell?!"

"I told you it would sting." He looks down at his scrubs that now have a wet footprint on it. "Where are your shoes?"

"In the lobby with my friends. One of my heels broke, so I just walked without them. And that was more than a sting! That was, like, a bee sting, much worse than a regular sting."

"Your skin's probably just raw. What even happened, how did you get like this?"

"I tripped and fell. Ah!" This time she grabs onto his hair and tugs hard as he continues to clean up her knee.

The doctor takes a deep breath and removes Y/N's hand from his head. "I said you could grab my shoulder."

"It hurts!"

"I have to cut your stockings a bit so I can get a look at your entire knee." He scoots back, grabs scissors, then scoots back to her. "I hope you weren't attached to these."

"They're ruined anyways. Go on, cut away."

"So, what'd you trip on?"

"Myself." She groans. "We were leaving a pregame before heading to a party at my friend's apartment."

"Ah, been there." He stretches the material until it tares. He can see how swollen Y/N's knee is. "This swelled up like a cantaloupe, no wonder it hurts so much. Did you land right on the cap?"

"Yeah, and then I skidded." She wipes under her eyes and pouts. "I must look like a racoon."

"You don't." He looks up at her briefly. "You won't need stitches, but you need some skin glue and a bandage. I'll take care of this first, then we can take care of your lip. It looks like it's clotted, so you're not bleeding now."

"Okay." She sighs and slumps a little. "You never told me your name."

"Oh! Sorry." He squeezes the glue onto his gloved finger and puts it on the wound. "I'm Dr. Styles."

"Styles? Is...is your first name Harry?"

"Yeah." He's busy concentrating on closing her wound, so he doesn't see the horrified look on her face. He puts the bandage over it and presses it firmly.

"This wasn't how I was supposed to meet you." She slides her hands down her face.

"We were supposed to meet?" He looks up at her, confused.

"Yes, I'm Y/N Y/L/N...my friend, who's having the party I was going to, was supposed to set us up tonight."

"Your Francesca's friend Y/N?" He smiles. "That's crazy. I was on my way to the party when they told me to stay and help you. Guess it was fate, one way or another."

"I'm a mess..."

"You had an accident." He chuckles and stands up once her knee is secure. He grips her chin to get a better look at her lip. "Top lip's the one that's busted. You're swollen here too. I'll give you some ice in a bit."

"Does it need a stitch?"

"Nope, but I'll put some glue on it so it can heal a little faster. I'm gonna clean this up. It shouldn't hurt like your knee, but it'll still sting." He gets a cotton pad wet with some alcohol, "Now that I know we were technically supposed to be on a blind date tonight, feel free to tug at my hair all you want." He smirks, and Y/N's cheeks redden.

"Jesus!" She hisses as he cleans up her lip.

"You're kind of a baby." He dabs at her lip a few more times, then gets some glue onto his gloved finger. "What do you do for work?"

"I am a baby, I'll admit it. I have a very low tolerance for pain. I'm in IT, I work for that Norton company, the one that protects your computer from malware."

"Wow, that's a huge company. Good for you. Do you, like, code, or...?"

"Sort of. I basically figure out how hackers hack so I can build a stronger code that hackers can't hack."

"You know, while you were talking, I finished taking care of your lip. Guess you're someone that needs a distraction."

"Yeah, guess so. Um, thank you."

"You're welcome." He sits back down on the stool and just looks at her. "I have a sort of wild idea. You're pretty banged up and don't have shoes, and I'm honestly not a fan of huge parties. So, what if I take you home so you can change into something more comfortable, I'll order us some takeout, then we can go back to mine to watch the fireworks. I have a decent view, might even be better than Francesca's."

"I kicked you, screamed, and almost ripped your hair out, and you still want to spend the night together?"

"Y/N, I'm gonna be completely honest, if we weren't at my place of work, I'd lock the door and rip your tights open in a much more private area."

"Oh." Her heart starts racing. "Well, uh, considering that I won't be able to get on my knees tonight, I guess you'll have to."

Harry grins and stands up. "I'm gonna let the nurse know you're all set so you can check out. Wait for me out front in the lobby. I just need to change and grab my stuff. I'm parking in the hospital's garage."

"Alright."

Once Y/N is back with her friends, she tells them everything and lets them know they can leave and that she'll check in throughout the night.

Harry drives Y/N home in a comfortable silence. She was grateful Harry wasn't talking her ear off. She just wanted to focus on pressing the ice pack he gave her to her knee.

"I'd offer to go up with you, but I really want to make it to my place." He tells her.

"No worries. I won't be long. I'm just gonna grab a different pair of shoes and throw some sweats into a bag. I can just change when we get there."

"Works for me."

Y/N goes as quickly as she can to get up to her apartment, grab what she needs, and get back down to Harry's care. In reality, it was barely ten minutes.

Harry pulls up to his building about twenty minutes later, and hands his keys to the valet.

"Oh, so you're like, rich, rich." Y/N jokes.

"You live in a nice building too." Harry laughs. "I like knowing my car is safe in the building's garage, and it's so easy to hand the keys to the valet. "Our takeout will be brought up to my door. I got tons of different Chinese food. Does that work?"

"Chinese food is perfect."

They head into the elevator and ride up to Harry's floor. He leads her into his condo and gets her a glass of water.

"This is a great place." She tells him.

"Thanks, I like it a lot."

"And there's your view, your couch is in the perfect spot." Y/N goes over to it and sits down. Harry sits down next to her. He puts his arm around her shoulders.

"Is this okay?" He asks softly.

"Yeah." Her eyes flit to his lips. "How am I supposed to kiss you with my busted lip?"

"Your bottom lip isn't busted." He reaches with his free hand and presses his thumb into it. "Wanna give it a try?"

"Yes." She nods and lets her eyes flutter closed.

Harry's lips gently takes Y/N's bottom lip between them. The tip of his tongue swipes over it before giving it a little suck. He pulls back to look at her. "Okay?"

"Yeah, do it again." She slides her arms around his neck and pulls him close.

Y/N parts her lips and licks into Harry's mouth. He moans softly against her and grips her jaw. They both sink into it a little more, but Y/N whimpers and pulls back.

"This is so annoying." She frowns. "It hurts too much."

"How's your neck feel?"

"Fine, why?"

"Can I kiss you there?"

"Yes." She nods. "And I work from home, so you can leave marks."

"You get better by the second." He grinned and leaned forward to start kissing on her neck.

He licks up the side and nips at the spot just under her earlobe. Y/N slides her fingers into Harry's hair and moans as his teeth graze her skin.

"Can't handle an alcohol wipe to a wound, but you're panting like a dog from getting your neck bitten." He smirks. "Interesting."

"I'm a very complex person."

"I can see that." He looks down between them, then back up at her. "Can I go down on you?"

"What?!" She laughs. "Why, so you can do it for two seconds and pretend like you did me a huge favor just to get your dick wet?"

"Um, no, because I like it and I want to taste you and make you feel good."

"Be serious."

"I am." He puts his hand on her shoulder and lays her down. "Let me prove it."

"Be my guest." She opens her legs. "Rip them like you said you would have."

Harry rucks up the skirt of Y/N's dress and gets a grip on the crotch of her tights. He rips them easily and is delighted to see her bare cunt. He spits down onto it and puts his mouth on her, sucking his spit back in, then spitting it into her. He drags his tongue up her clit and swirls the tip of his tongue around it. He spreads her legs wider, pressing his large hands into her thighs. He moans as he sucks on her clit, and moans harder when he feels her fingers suddenly tugging at his roots.

He brings his tongue back down to her opening and licks inside, sucking on her entire pussy. Y/N moans and writhes under him, feeling squirmy and hot and good. His tongue curls up against her spongey front wall and he brings his thumb to her clit to rub on.

"Oh, shit." She gasps and arches her back. "Fuck, just like that, don't stop." Her head moves from side to side and her hips roll towards Harry's mouth. She tugs on his hair and pushes his face harder against her. He moans and chuckles lowly into her, eating her sloppily without a care in the world. "I'm getting close." She mewls. "Please, don't stop. Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, dddddohhhhhh my god!" She comes around his tongue in waves, grinding herself down against him.

Harry pulls back just a touch, licking and sucking over Y/N's folds, then brings himself to hover over her. He pecks her lips. His nose squishes to her and they both smile. The doorbell rings and they both sit up.

"That's the food." Harry says.

"Great. I bet it's piping hot."

"Definitely."

"So, it'll need time to cool down." She stands up with him. "Maybe we could continue this in your bedroom to pass the time?"

And that's how Y/N ended up missing the fireworks at Francesca's party. She missed them at Harry's as well, but that was only because he was fucking into her so deeply that he was able to give her a vaginal orgasm. 2024 is going to be a great year, she can feel it.

[grogusmum]

Please Mister Please

JOEL MILLER X F!READER (nicknamed)

SUMMARY: You can't seem to escape that one song even after the apocalypse. Joel and Ellies friendship brings you some comfort, and maybe Joel is interested in more.

WORD COUNT: 1700ish

WARNINGS: None to speak of. Unless you need one for soft Joel. As always, if you see something I've missed, let me know in my DMs, and I'll add it.

A/N: Just a little something inspired by the Olivia Newton-John's song of the same name. (She was in her country music era) It's hardly edited, written on my phone, and Imma just yeetin' it out there. Oops. It's just the usual fluffy hurt comfort. But it IS my first go round with Joel. I hope you enjoy it! 💚

The jukebox was found on a supply run at some honky tonk out Fort Collins way called Sundance something or other. You laughed at your first thought, which was it's wasn't one of those new ones with CDs, realizing "those new ones" were now 40 years old... but this one was truly an antique, with vinyl in it and everything.

A Wurlitzer in all its chrome, brightly colored bakelite, and satisfying push button glory.

You shake your head now, thinking you should have known the moment you heard. Everyone was so excited. Because, of course, they were! How fun is an old timey jukebox full of country-western ballads, anthems, and line dance classics?

It brought an energy into Jackson, the likes you hadn't seen before it. You'd gotten in early on, and watched its evolution from place where people were merely surviving to an industrious hive of busy bees, creating abundance but there wasn't much room for joy and then out of the clear blue sky - line dancing. At first they couldnt keep it plugged in all the time, it was turned on for a half an hour at the end of the day, until they had a good handle on the dam and the power plant was working consistently. You're sure it was the inspiration for Maria's attention to holidays and socials after seeing the excitement and morale lift from it. Suddenly, y'all were living, not just staying alive. So it seems silly, with so much real life and death shit to deal with, to get so hung up on one song, but it carried so much weight for you, you just couldn't shake it. If only it wasn't so sweet, if only it wasn't so catchy… Maybe people wouldn't have noticed it among all the other tracks. But it was sweet and it was catchy, and about making it after all the shit they'd been through...

So naturally, at five songs for a quarter, it ends up in the mix at some point. (It's the only reason the town has any coins. Paying it could have been bypassed, but dropping the 25¢ seemed to be part of the fun.) So when you least expected it, it would start to play, and so far, it continued to flip your stomach and make your eyes glass. And think about how he and you didn't actually make it.

Joel and Ellie have been in Jackson several months now. Ellie dove right in, school, taking care of the horses afterward, trying to socialize. She's a little guarded sure but mostly funny and eager. Joel started helping Tommy right away, but it seemed to you more to keep busy than to join the community. He's wary and taciturn. When they weren't in those organized work times, they stuck close. When Ellie ventured into social activities, Joel let her go, but he was ever watchful, with Ellie checking in often even just a look over her shoulder, just to see if he was still there. He always was. They reminded you of a bonded pair of strays.

You liked your place, Catnip's Apothecary. They'd come in twice so far, once when Joel brought Ellie in for a poison ivy rash and once when Ellie brought a very grumpy Joel for inflammation in his knees Ellie found all your jars of tinctures, teas, herbs, and powders fascinating. Asking what everything did, looking at drying plants hanging from rafters in wonder, pspspsing the cats.

“Are you a witch?”

“Ellie!” Joel admonished, but looking at you for a tell. Were you? You could see him wondering.

You only laughed. Sure you were, but what they were seeing here was hardly witchcraft, just herbalism, mostly. Joel and Ellie are both bright and observant - you're pretty sure they both noticed you didn't answer.

Tonight, Ellie is at the rec center, a movie theater for the evening, awaiting the start of none other than Star Wars.

Where did they find all these 70s flicks? Nevertheless, A New Hope's a great find. You can't resist going, even though you know it by heart, and you'll have to force yourself not to recite all the dialogue. Sitting smack dab in the middle, surrounded by all these kids and young adults, seeing it for the first time, you munch your popcorn and smile.

You don't see Joel, but it's not like you are actively looking for him… just curious, given their penchant to stay together and you figured he will know the movie too, maybe he's more of a Trekkie. When you catch Ellie's eye, she waves animatedly and moves to sit beside you.

“Sssoooo, you're like one of the only grown ups here.” there is a gremlin glint in Ellie’s eye.

“Yeah, I thought there'd be more nostalgia watchers-” you say a little sheepishly. “ But it's okay, I'll see it with a soon-to-be New Generation of Star Wars Fans. Bear Witness!”

“And what if it sucks?”

The noise you make is somewhere between an indignant scoff and a gasp of purest offense. But you rally.

“Oh just you wait padawan-”

"What's a pada-"

As quickly as the lights go down the attention commanding drums of the 20th Century Fox fanfare begin.

“Oop here we go! Buckle up, buttercup!!”

You live vicariously through the new audience for the next two hours, and it is a pure joy.

The young people of Jackson laugh at the Laurel and Hardy comedy stylings of Threepio and Artoo, they eat up the “though she be little she is fierce” snarky spirit of Princess Leia, gasp at Alderaan's fate and Obi Wan's sacrifice, cheer at Hans return, hold their collective breath when Luke turns off his targeting device to use the force, and burst into applause when he makes the one in a million shot, womp rats in Beggars Canyon take heed.

“Aw man I really hope we can see Empire some day,” you say as the credits roll.

Ellie is elated, peppering you with questions about the sequel and then Return of the Jedi as you walk out of the rec center, and everyone begins to head home. You do you best answering, not wanting to spoil too much if she actually gets to watch it.

“I'm this way,” she says suddenly, as she peels off from the town center, “see ya!”

You head toward the Tipsy Bison, to join the adults, most of which took advantage of the kids being off at the movie to do a little drinking and dancing.

The spring has brought high spirits, and with it bright chatter and the stomp of line dancing in progress. Grabbing a spot to watch, you order yourself a drink. When the song ends, there's hoots and applause, and the next one is slow and sweet, and it only takes the first note for you to feel the drop in your belly.

Joel saw you come in, he had seen you from the street actually, when the community center emptied after the film, he had his eye out for Ellie and saw her come out with you, talking animatedly and laughing. He smiled. You were his age, or close enough, he guesses, not only from both the smile and worry lines but your points of reference when talking, only missing references that are local to growing up in Texas. It's comforting, you remember Before. You also have a light he can't get enough of. You didn't confirm nor deny it, but he is sure you've enchanted him witch or not. He's just been too, 'shy' isn't the right word... he just hasn't been able to make any sort of move.

Then he does his best to saunter over to your little table, drink in hand. He's pretty sure his sauntering days are over.

Now you sit alone, a moment ago smiling, tapping to the music. He had been taking in some liquid courage, in the form of whiskey, to ask you to dance. But the light in your eyes is replaced with a shine, not in the way he loves. He's seen this a couple times, he realizes. Times when your eyes go far away and a sadness descends on you.

He gets up and checks the jukebox, taking note of the song. He's pretty sure he's right. He can't bypass a song on a jukebox, nor can he tell a DJ to change it. But he's gonna talk to Walt the barkeeper, first chance he gets.

“Hey Catnip, can I sit?”

You look up wiping your wide eyes.

“Oh, sure, Joel, please,” your smile tries to reach your eyes, but it flickers and can't stay.

“So," Joel starts, he's not good at this. He's gotten better but, “You're Still the One, huh? For me, it's Vince Gill- When I Call Your Name ”

You just look at him, and he starts to think maybe he hasn't improved at all.

“I don't know that one, it was kind of a fluke that our song, his song was a country song. It's not my usual genre.”

“Well it wasn't my lady and my song, it was the song that I listened to after she left. Sarah was so little. I felt so lost in those early days. Now I can't even hear the open-”

“Opening chords,” you finish with a chuckle, “yeah, I can't- and now of course it all wrapped up in the Before Times, too. But here it is, in a jukebox of less than 200 songs, the one song that represents my husband walking out on me before the shit hit the fan.”

“I can't even picture anyone leaving you with nothing but a song.”

“Yeah, well, I can picture it quite clearly. I can't imagine someone leaving you with a little baby girl to raise.”

“We are in the same boat, darlin’ until it happened I would have been with you on that. We were very young, 22, she panicked.”

“Aren't we a pair?”

“Why don't this pair go for a walk then?”

Joel holds his breath, looking into your lovely face.

“I'd like that.”

Standing, Joel holds out a hand to guide you up and out of the bar, it settles comfortably on your lower back, the song long over. His hand tingles and theres a flutter in his chest at being allowed to touch you this way.

It smells like petrichor, though the skies are clear. Joel's hand leaves your back to your chagrin, but he gently holds out his elbow, and with a crooked smile you slip your hand in the crux of it.

“Such a gentleman.”

He smiles and brings you to the newly constructed, yet to be painted, gazebo.

You climb the handful of steps and look at the town from this new vantage point.

Behind you, Joel comes close, his hand casually on your hip, like you did this everyday. His mouth close to the shell of your ear and a quiet hum floats in, the controlled breath tickling, you smile knowing the very apt song choice,

“Are you making fun of me Joel Miller?”

He chuckles, then the words over take the hum -

“Please mister, please, don't play B-17

It was our song, it was his song but it's over

Please Mr. please, if you know what I mean

I don't ever wanna hear that song again…”

Joel turns you, arm around your waist, his other hand sliding into yours -

" I'd sound a bit better with my guitar, but when we couldnt dance, so-"

He starts a simple box step, as he sings quiet and low, just for you, while turning you around the gazebo.

You join in singing, whispering in his ear the chorus when it comes again. It feels cathartic. Then you step back - who is this man? Not the guy who came in with a little girl, a gut wound that should have killed him, poorly healed knuckles, and the wary eye of someone who is always waiting for the other shoe to come down on him like it's made of lead. But looking at him now, those brown eyes wide but the little crease between his eyes holding his concern. His jaw soft, making you take more note of his natural pout and the salt and pepper scruff, the little spot that just won't fill in, it looks like a heart… you wonder if it's as soft and smooth as it looks and if he'd let you touch it to find out.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING 💚

Please consider commenting and reblogging. If you are interested in reading more of my writing, you can find my masterlist here. If you would like to be notified when i post more work, you can find my taglist form here.

[mysteryshoptls]

Happy Winter Holiday Gift Calendar 2023

These are all the messages that you get from the boys when you log in during the Winter Holiday Campaign from 09 Dec 2023 to 31 Dec 2023! For those that want to read them again, you can find them in the Album, under GIFT CALENDAR 2023.

"How will you be spending the day?"

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle

I think I will go to the library today. There were someone's scribbles all over the book I borrowed yesterday, you see. It disrupts my focus, so I plan to find a replacement book. Seriously... It's a terrible crime to deface a book like this.

Ace

Today? Well, it's snowing outside, and I got no club practice, so maybe I'll check out on my streaming service a movie or show that catches my eye. I can stay warm and cozy in my room, all while munching on some snacks. Don'tcha think we deserve lazy days like this sometimes?

Deuce

I'm going to try to finish the assignments I got today, before the day ends. That's what an honor student should do, right? But... The first question is already a tough prac app question...? Right! Just gotta hunker down and get down to it!

Cater

Maybe I'll surf Magicam for some 'cammable spots that're only available in the winter. Stuff like diamond dust, or hotels made from ice... Knowin' they're only limited to the season really gets me psyched up!

Trey

It's pretty cold every day now, so I think I'll stock up on lemonade-ginger syrup. It'll warm you right up if you drink some. What, according to the Queen of Hearts' Laws, we can't have lemonade after 8 o'clock? Well, this has ginger in it, so it's a completely different drink, isn't it?

SAVANACLAW

Leona

No plans worth mentioning. What, not what you were expecting? Well, too bad. The campus is completely covered in snow, so the best thing for me to do is just to get back to my dorm room and relax while solving some chess problems.

Jack

The track team has practice today. But since it's supposed to snow in the afternoon, it may just end up being indoor training. It takes a while or the body to get limber in the winter. That means we need to extra thorough in our warming up exercises.

Ruggie

Obviously, I'm gonna be workin'! Today, I'm at a cake shop, and tomorrow I'm waitin' tables at a restaurant... The holidays are coming up, so 'tis the season for a ton of high-payin' temp jobs to fill my pockets, too! Shishishi!

OCTAVINELLE

Azul

As always, I will be awaiting everyone's visit to the Mostro Lounge. On a cold day such as this, we usually receive orders for dishes that are more common in the winter season. I'm sure today will be a rather busy day.

Jade

I thought perhaps I would make a herbarium. The atmosphere this time of year tends to be dry, so it is the perfect opportunity. How would you like to join me? No need to worry, I will show you how everything is done.

Floyd

Yesterday I saw someone wearing these boots lined with fur, and it looked kinda fascinating, so I thought I'd try to find some in town. I wonder if it's hard to walk in? If I find a good pair, I think I'll buy 'em and try 'em out.

SCARABIA

Kalim

Today, we have travelling salesmen from the Scalding Sands coming. I'm planning on buying a ton of stuff for the holidays! It's so exciting to think about what kind of treasure I might find! You should bring some friends over and check it out, too.

Jamil

There's no club activities today, so I plan to look into a few things. My family will be going on a trip over the holidays, you see. Tourist attractions, climate, local cuisine, souvenirs... Never a bad idea to gather too much information, don't you think?

POMEFIORE

Vil

I intend on picking up the spring coat I had on order. I'll also look for accessories that go with it while I'm out. Hm? It's too early to think about spring attire? If I wait to prepare everything for after it starts to get warmer, then I'll completely miss out on the season.

Epel

Snow's piling up again today, so I'm plannin' on clearing the magical shift field with the rest of my clubmates. Didn't bother me none, but the other guys were all dog-tired... Pathetic, ain't they?

Rook

I plan to check on the houseplants we are cultivating in the Science Club. Fufu, I wonder what sort of expressions they'll have today? I do hope there'll be some changes from yesterday that I'll get to enjoy.

IGNIHYDE

Idia

Obvi, just been hyperfixating on my online games, like always... Rather, why would you think I'd go out in cold weather like this in the first place? I recently overhauled the internet speed in the dorm, so it's crazy fast now lol. Gonna actually pull an all-nighter, it's been a while!

Ortho

It'll probably be a game day with my roommates, since the new game that I ordered online arrived. Physical games might take up more space, but I just can't help but want to actually collect my favorite games, y'know?

DIASOMNIA

Malleus

It's chilly today. The best thing to possibly do on days like this is to warm my room and enjoy some frozen treats. Perhaps I'll invite Lilia and the others later. Fufu... I suppose it's not a bad thing to be the one making preparations for them once in a while.

Silver

I will be practicing my swordsmanship with Father after this. I thought I would finish up my assignments beforehand, but... Before I realized it, I had fallen asleep and my notepad was completely blank. What should I do...?

Sebek

I plan to read the book I ordered from the Mystery Shop the other day. It's a book that I've been eagerly awaiting. Grandfather was the one to recommend it to me, so I must read it over and over again and tell him my thoughts on it!

Lilia

We have band practice today. However... When it gets cold like this, my fingers get numb and hard to move. Hm? Naah, I already have the songs memorized. It's really only about staying in rhythm with the other members!

OTHERS

Grim

Brrr, it's cold～! Hey, henchie! Today we're gonna stay cozy under that "ＫＯＴＡＴＳＵ" thingie. We'll have some snacks and play some games together... Myaha! Today's totally gonna be a blast!

Requested by Anonymous.

[sitp-recs]

15 Christmassy fics to read (or reread) this month

This rec list is for @annakendricks who sent an ask about Christmas reads and also dedicated to @lettersbyelise for supporting this idea 💜 Despite the winter blues, December will always lighten up my mood with the holiday spirit. This month has been pretty hectic for me but I can’t wait to get some time off and indulge my fave Christmassy rereads. Come and join me if you like! Here you’ll find a little bit of everything: soft and contemplative, smutty, crack-y, movie AU, holiday romance and even Gen fic, which is not my usual fare but fit the theme perfectly. Pick your flavour and Happy Holidays!

🎄A Christmas Happenstance by Only_1_Truth (E, 5.5k)

The Hogwarts School for the Gifted and Supernatural had classes year-round, but the dormitories emptied out regularly on holidays as if the students were suddenly becoming allergic to the walls. Both humans and non-humans mingled freely in the surrounding town of Hogsmeade. Draco Malfoy, however, isn't feeling in the mood after a rather spectacular break-up.

🎄A Charitable Christmas by Alisanne (E, 5.6k)

Hermione’s plans to raise money for war orphans do not meet with Harry’s approval. Fortunately, Draco steps in to help him come up with a much more enjoyable strategy.

🎄A Hippogriff for Christmas by @xanthippe74 (G, 6.4k)

Draco is desperately trying to fulfill four-year-old Scorpius’ dearest wish for Christmas: a visit with a real Hippogriff. Harry is desperately trying to be left alone, safely tucked away from the attention of the wizarding world as Hogwarts’ Keeper of the Keys and Grounds.

🎄Surviving the Horde by FleetofShippyShips (T, 7k)

Draco has managed to avoid Christmas at the Burrow for ten years, but not this year.

🎄Tidings of Comfort by @blamebrampton (G, 10k)

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life. Luckily for Draco Malfoy, London has places where the tired can rest and recover.

🎄Love, Actually, is All Around by @punk-rock-yuppie (T, 10k)

It's Christmastime, and Harry has just started as the new Minister of Magic. It just so happens that Draco works in his office as well, a holdover from Kingsley's tenure. Naturally, love is in the air.

🎄break the bad luck in my life by seaworn (E, 12k)

Draco and Harry are both brooding on Christmas Eve.

🎄All Roads Lead Home by @dracogotgame (G, 15k)

Draco is strong-armed into spending the first Christmas after the War with the Weasleys. And Harry Potter.

🎄Love All Lovely by @shealwaysreads (T, 19k)

Draco comes home for Christmas, and discovers that sharing is the best way of celebrating old traditions, and new ones too.

🎄Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 22k)

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

🎄I'll Floo Home for Christmas by jadepresley (T, 39k)

The Ministry Christmas party is the biggest event of the year and Harry absolutely does not want to plan it, and he certainly, one hundred percent, does not have a crush on Draco Malfoy.

🎄The Romantic Prawn Who Loved Christmas by @bixgirl1 (E, 39k)

When Draco, forced into sharing a room with Potter for the year, finds out that Potter has a sleepwalking problem, he expects the odd conversations and the weird games of chess. What comes as a complete shock are Potter's other activities...And why he seems so intent on having Draco join him.

🎄December Never Felt So Wrong by @maesterchill (E, 50k)

'Twas the month before Christmas and sixteen year old Draco Malfoy had never felt worse. His attempts to kill Dumbledore were failing and, as usual, Harry Fucking Potter was a constant thorn in his side. All that suddenly changed when Draco woke up 15 years in the future and discovered that not only was he allegedly shagging Harry Fucking Potter, he also had thinning hair and a five year old son, and no fucking clue how he got there.

🎄A Room Up There (And You In It) by @the-starryknight (T, 59k)

When Preservationist Draco Malfoy was assigned to work on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he was excited to delve into the gorgeous Black family antiques. His excitement quickly ended when something in the House decided it did not like his presence one bit.

🎄All Must Draw Near by Saras_Girl (M, 61k)

Harry doesn't have time for rumours; he has a shop to run. Which is just as well, really.

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

summary: in which best friends, y/n henderson and steve harrington get caught up in their feelings while paranormal activities occur in the small town of hawkins, indiana

cw: fem!reader, I wrote this a long time ago(I apologize for everything cringe), shit writing, first person pov, a literal holiday romcom, stancy, 2.7k

<3

3 Months Later

Before we knew it, the holiday season had come around and it seemed like we were all scrambling to find gifts for each other. Nancy and Jonathan invited me to go Christmas shopping with them, seeing that we'd become very close in the past few months. Our shared trauma had a lot to do with that.

Jonathan had just called me and told me he'd be at my house five minutes ago. I glance at the clock again before returning my gaze out the window.

With a sigh, I trudge over to the phone hanging on the wall, starting to call Nancy's number. That's when I hear a car rolling into my driveway.

I grab my jacket, pulling it tight to my body before opening the front door and walking cheerfully outside. I instantly freeze, not because of the cold, but when I spot the maroon car sitting in my driveway.

Steve sends me a shy wave from inside his car. I hesitantly wave back before walking towards the passenger door and sitting inside.

"Hey," I say as Steve turns the heat up noticing my shivering figure, "I was supposed to be going shopping with Jonathan and Nancy."

"Uh, yeah," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck, "Nance called and said something came up and asked if I could step in."

Also in the past few months, Nancy and Steve got back together. He really did love that girl.

"Oh well," I say buckling my seatbelt with a bright smile, "I guess we're doing this together then, Harrington."

"Yeah, I guess so, Henderson."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

Steve walks behind me with a smile as I skip around the town while it snows. I stop at every window of every shop checking to see if anything catches my eye to give to one of my friends.

Steve seems to be struggling with what to get Nancy so I have to help him out a bit.

"How about that?" I tell Steve pointing at the pretty bracelet laying in the window of the local jewelry shop.

After a few moments, Steve slowly comes up to stand beside me, his warm presence filling the air as he glances at the bracelet on display. I continue to gaze in the window, my eyes locking on a silver necklace with a ring for a pendant. My gaze lingers there for a moment before I turn my attention back to Steve, who has been watching me this whole time with those eyes.

"Yeah, that's perfect." Steve says, breaking the silence, by referring to the bracelet I'd pointed out.

"Okay, great," I reply walking towards the door to the shop, "Lets go get it."

"Wait," Steve says, grabbing my arm before I can open the door, "I'll get it. You go ahead to the next place, I'll meet you there." He says quickly and I don't question it. I just nod and start my walk to the next store.

As I walk down the sidewalk, my feet crunching into the snow, I think about what I could get for Steve. I glance at the bags in my hands, feeling a pang of guilt and embarrassment as I realize I've gotten everyone something, except for him. He's never been the hardest to shop for, but the pressure of getting Steve the perfect gift is starting to get to me. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to let some creativity in, but so far, nothing comes to mind.

Suddenly, I hear quick footsteps coming from behind me. As I open my eyes I'm met with Steve who slows his stride before stopping by my side with a couple more small bags in hand.

Steve seems to notice something is up as he tilts his head to one side with a confused look, "You okay?" He asks quietly.

"Yeah, no, I'm good." I say when we begin to walk through the freshly powered snow. "I'm just thinking."

"About me, I hope?" Steve replies with a smug smile on his face.

"It's always about you, Harrington."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

The next day was Christmas Eve. Today I would be going over to the Wheeler's house to pick up Dustin from the boys' D&D campaign and hand out my gifts. And I still don't have anything for Steve.

I'm starting to freak out a little bit.

I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts racing with each breath I take. As the words repeat over and over in my head, I can't help but think of Steve.

Steve. Steve. Steve. What would Steve like?

I sit up in bed, as the exhaustion builds inside of me. Wanting to take a break from the constant thoughts of Steve, I decide to leave the house in search of some fresh air. I grab my jacket and head towards downtown, finding a quiet bench, wiping the fresh snow off before sitting down.

As I watch the people and couples stroll by, I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace and relief.

Then, I hear soft footsteps crunching through the snow, approaching me. I look up to see an old lady, probably in he 80's, sitting down next to me, her soft and gentle eyes gazing at me with warmth and kindness. She smiles, and I respond with one of my own. The two of us share a peaceful moment, the snow falling slowly around us and sparkling in the light.

"Hey," I turn slowly towards the lady, "Could you maybe help me with something?"

"What can I help you with, honey?" The lady replies kindly.

"Um, so I have this friend, and I haven't found a gift for him yet." I let out a small sigh before continuing, "I just don't know what to do because I want it to be perfect." I finish, glancing back at the lady who just smiles.

"This friend must be very special, huh?" She asks with a certain look hiding behind those soft eyes.

"Yeah." I respond, almost dreamily, "He is."

"If you mean as much to him as he does to you, I don't think it would matter what you get him," The lady says, that soft smile never leaving her face, "As long as it's from the heart." She finishes, holding her hand up to her chest, where her heart is.

I finally know what I want to give to Steve thanks to a sudden inspiration courtesy of a random old lady's brilliant mind. I quickly thank her before rushing home so I can get the gift done before I have to head over to the Wheeler's.

Frantically, I rummage through my room, searching for the old camera Steve and I used to use together. I find it in an unexpected spot, under my bed, before heading back into town to a local shop where I can get the photos developed. I wait impatiently while the pictures dry. When they're finally done, I grab them stuffing them into my bag before going home. I grin as I shut my bedroom door behind me, knowing they'll make the perfect gift for Steve.

I slip the pictures into a small envelope before grabbing a sheet of paper to write a letter to Steve. With a clear and steady hand, I start to write, my thoughts and emotions flowing as I compose the perfect message for the one who has always meant the world to me.

As I write, a flood of memories come rushing into my mind.

"Is it a little strange? Sure, but it's also romantic. When I heard it for the first time, it reminded me of you."

I smile as I remember that night we'd spent on his bedroom floor. I remember his warm smile, the gentle touches, the mix-tape we'd never finished.

"I don't really know who you are anymore Steve."

"Then let me show you,"

I pause in my writing to dwell on the night Steve snuck into my room, all those months ago. That was the night our friendship was truly reborn in a moment of secrecy and trust.

"What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, freak."

A single tear slips out, fueled by the bitter memory of what Steve called me months ago. I let my anger and frustration spill into the paper, letting which lets the rest of my emotions loose.

"Whoa, (Y/n), what are you doing with that?"

"Protecting your sorry ass."

I let out a light chuckle of amusement as my rage from earlier dissolves into a warm flood of happy memories.

I remember the day we made our promise, when Steve and I were just kids. We sat with our legs dangling in the pool, lightly swinging our feet through the water. The water glimmered in the sunlight, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees as we watched our reflections in the ripples of the water. I remember the sense of calm unity that we felt in that moment, our friendship forged in the waters of that pool, our words spoken with so much hope and faith in our hearts.

"We won't ever stop being friends, right?”

"We're in this together, Steve Harrington."

"Always."

With a small smile on my face, I carefully slip the letter into the envelope alongside our childhood pictures. I then gently place the envelope in my backpack, where it lies with the rest of the presents I'll be giving out later today.

Then I realize I've made a love letter in disguise.

Shit.

Oh well.

I hear a couple knocks on the front door and promptly open it, finding Jonathan standing on the other side with a warm smile. As he gestures towards the driveway, I nod and head out the door, putting my backpack on and grabbing my jacket. We then drive to the Wheeler's house to pick up our brothers from their campaign. I'm filled with excitement and anticipation as we pull up, eager to see my friends reactions to the gifts I picked out for them.

As we pull up to the house, I notice Steve's maroon car sitting in the driveway, the sight causing my smile to falter ever so slightly. The thoughts of him and Nancy getting back together run through my mind. But I remind myself that Steve and Nancy are my friends, and I'm going to support their decision, no matter how much it hurts.

Jonathan and I get out of the car and walk up to the door where a very cheerful Mrs. Wheeler greets us, with a tray of cookies in hand.

"Merry Christmas, kids," She greets with a warm smile, "Cookie?" She offers pushing out the tray towards us.

"Ooh, thanks, Mrs. Wheeler!" I exclaim happily, grabbing a cookie before walking alongside Jonathan into the house.

"Nancy is upstairs with Steve and the boys are in the basement." Mrs. Wheeler comments before making her way back to the kitchen with the rest of the cookies.

"Perfect," I say before walking down the stairs to the basement.

"Jeez, what's that smell?" Jonathan says as I bring my hand up to my nose to plug it, "Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?" Jonathan asks, making me let out a snort.

"Oh, that's just Dustin." Lucas giggles, "He farted. Dustin farted." Lucas sings while making farting noises.

"Okay." Dustin replies annoyed.

"Dustin farted." Lucas continues to sing.

"Very mature, Lucas." My brother comments and I let out another chuckle.

"Will." Jonathan says, grabbing his brother's attention, who stand up with a smile, "Come on."

"Shut up." Dustin repeats.

"Dustin farted!" Lucas sings, standing from his seat.

"Bye guys." Will says with a little wave before following his brother up the stairs.

"Bye Will." The three boys chorus at the same time.

"Dust, we gotta go too," I say with a smile as the boys say goodbye to their friend, "But first, presents!" I sing, opening my backpack.

As the boys sift through my bag and pull out their gifts with excitement, I watch them with a smile on my face. They thank me for the thoughtful presents with wide grins, giving me affectionate hugs. I wave goodbye to the boys before, Dustin and I rush up the stairs. Where Mrs. Wheeler is waiting.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Wheeler." Dustin and I say at the same time and I send her a soft smile.

"Merry Christmas, guys." She returns my smile, "Say hi to your mom for me."

"We will." I reply before heading towards the door. I usher Dustin out, telling him that I'll be right there.

Before I can make my way up the stairs to Nancy's room, her and Steve come rushing down the stair. In a flurry of holiday cheer and joy, the two of them make their way towards me, their faces filled with excitement with presents in hand.

"We thought we heard your voice." Nancy says with a sweet smile, handing me a present, "Merry Christmas, (Y/n)."

"Thank you, Nancy." I say sincerely before she nods, walking towards her mom whose still in the kitchen.

I place the tiny gift box into my backpack grabbing the envelope for Steve before facing the nervous looking boy in front of me.

"I—"

"Here." I say, shoving the letter into his hand.

"Oh, thanks." Steve replies, starting to open the letter.

"Wait!" I say frantically grabbing his hands, preventing him from opening it right now.

"Later?" Steve asks, reading my mind.

"Yeah." I let out a relieved sigh as Steve puts the letter into his front pocket.

I stare into Steve's eyes for a moment, my heart fluttering with every beat. Then he reaches into his back pocket and suddenly reveals a small jewelry box, the sight causing my breath to catch in my throat.

"Uh, I got you something." Steve says, fidgeting with the box in his hand, before reaching out to grab my hand, placing the box into my palm gently, "You can open it now, if you want."

I slowly and carefully open the box, my anticipation growing with every inch it opens. When the lid finally lifts, however, I can't help but gasp as I catch glimpse of the necklace from yesterday, the one with the ring. I stare at the necklace in my hand, eyebrows furrowed as I try to make sense of this gift.

My thoughts run wild as I look up at the boy whose staring at me with excitement and slight worry.

"Read it." Steve says softly, "The ring."

I grab the ring noticing the engraved message on the inside.

Always

My eyes start to tear up when I glance up at Steve.

"Whoa, you don't like it?" Steve questions with a concerned look.

"No, no, I love it, Steve." I laugh lightly at his worry.

"Oh, good." He replies rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can I?" Steve asks, reaching his hands out towards the box.

With blush spreading across my cheeks, I nod as Steve steps closer, his warm hands taking the necklace. He gently moves my hair to the side and quickly fastens the necklace around my neck with a soft click. As he shifts my hair back into place, I turn back around, our faces inches apart.

"Thank you, Steve." I say softly, glancing at his lips, "I really love it."

"Yeah, I mean, I saw you looking at it and I—"

I cut him off with a quick hug, a warm feeling pooling in my chest as I feel his arms wrap around me. We stand there by the front door of the Wheeler's house, our bodies pressed together, the moment charged with emotion. I lean in and give his cheek a quick peck before finally parting ways. I turn towards the door, my hand resting on the knob.

"Bye, Steve." I say, sending him a small wave before opening the door.

"Bye." Steve replies dazed, but still gives me a two-finger wave.

I smile because something changed, and I'm not sure that's a bad thing anymore.

<3

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[missredherring]

A Flower in February

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 2k

Summary: When he’s finished cleaning the scrapes on your face his thumb swipes tenderly over the curve of your chin once.

“I'll take care of it.”

Contents: Boston QZ!Joel. mugging. hand-to-hand violence. whump. wound cleaning.

A/N: This is a my Secret Valentine gift for @hoeruiner.

I hope you like this, Sarah! I tried to keep it in line with the info you gave.

Thank you @covetyou for reading over this. <3

You only notice the date because you glance at the calendar to check when your next shift is on your way out of work. The calendar is old and yellowed, from before when holidays were still celebrated as special occasions and not memories. The red of the “14” is faded too, but the color still draws your eye and sparks recognition in your brain. 

February 14th. Valentine’s Day. Huh. It’s depressing that your plans haven’t changed after 20 years and an apocalypse: going home after work with a good chance of spending the night alone. 

The ration cards stuffed in your jacket pocket cheer you up a little. Payday hasn’t changed either, and the ability to trade for questionably fresh groceries at the market tomorrow is something to look forward to. You head out into the dark streets of the QZ towards your apartment.

It’s fucking cold this time of year. The temperature barely rises even with a full day of sun, and it’s windy tonight too. There are piles of snow caught in the nooks and crannies of buildings and alleyways, radiating even more cold air. At least it isn’t tinged the same dirty gray-brown shade from before, with car exhaust and dirt kicked up by tires discoloring everything it touches. You’ll still find some of that on the main road, but not here in the backways that twist around the city. 

A gust of wind blows through and goes right through the heaviest jacket you own, chilling you to the bone. You grit your teeth and hunker down, trying to cover as much exposed skin as you can. That’s the only way you see it: the flash of vibrant color so out of place in a city that only has faded colors available. 

There, sticking through a chain link fence bordering what must have been a parking lot at some point but has grown over into a meadow, is a purple bloom of a flower. You take a few steps closer to get a better look. You’d crouch down, but with this cold seeping into your joints you might not be able to get back up, so you bend over awkwardly and try not to lock your knees. 

It’s dark, but there’s just enough light from a streetlamp in the distance that you can make out the shape of the petals. They’re too sharp and close together to be a pansy, and facing up instead of down like a snowdrop, not to say anything of it being purple and not white. So… most likely a crocus, you think. Being able to identify the small bloom brings a happy feeling, with the bittersweet memory of when you had time to indulge in a frivolous activity like flower gardening. You could pick it and bring the spot of color into your apartment. It’s a happy thought that dies and quickly as the flower would.

“Idiot.”

It’s the only warning you get with the wind howling in your ears masking the shuffled steps behind you. They’re right: you’re an idiot for standing in an alley looking at a flower alone at night.

You aren’t the only one happy about payday.

At least they’re quick about it. You don’t know how many there are, but one grabs you from behind and another delivers a fast, brutal punch to your middle. While you heave and gasp they rifle through your pockets and take your ration cards. They give you a few more hits for good measure, and it’s not the blows to your face that does it; it’s the momentum with which they send your head smacking back into the brick wall that makes your vision swim and dim. 

At first all you can make out is ratty shoes and pants with more holes than them, but then you force your eyes up up up when all they want to do is close and you catch glimpses of their faces in the same weak light that had bounced off the crocus and caught your attention. The QZ is a contained area with a small population, and they aren’t even wearing anything to cover their faces, just worn beanies tugged down low. You don’t know their names, but you recognize the faces of the group of thugs who like to crowd people at the market and intimidate them into giving up whatever they have to leave them alone. You still can’t hear them when they run away, the ringing in your ears is loud until you finally give in to it and pass out. 

You don’t know how long it takes for your body to shake itself back to consciousness. Taking stock of your body as you get up is easy: everything hurts, but nothing hurts more than everything else. You don’t give the flower another look as you start to drag yourself home.

The wind is quiet now and you hear the heavy footsteps coming this time. Fear zips through you, freezing you in place; had they come back to take even more from you? But then your name is called out in a voice that makes your body start moving again. That voice means safety and warmth and you’re stumbling towards it on shaking legs until you crash into Joel Miller’s solid body. 

He grunts as he absorbs your impact and his hands come up on your shoulders to keep you standing.

“What’re you still doing out here?”

You open your mouth to answer him, but your teeth are chattering too much to get anything out. Great clouds of hot breath steam out of him as he jerks his head back towards your building.

“C’mon.”

Joel’s dark form is easy for your aching eyes to focus on. It’s a mindless act: following where he leads. Your feet could follow his lead in your sleep, so being cold, beaten up, and maybe concussed is no problem. 

The lights are on in your apartment when you get in. You’re pretty sure everything had been off when you left, and wonder how long Joel had been here, waiting for you. You sit down at the kitchen table and close your eyes, safe in this room with him.

The sounds of Joel moving around the kitchen are nice. You play a little game, trying to ignore the throbbing, painful points on your body by guessing what he’s doing based on the sounds he’s making. 

Water from the faucet filling the dented kettle and the clank of setting it on the burner. The click of the stove knobs as he turns it on. The creak of his weight on the floorboards as he waits for the water to boil. His hum at the creaking cabinet door when he reaches in for the bottle of alcohol he keeps there. The slosh of the bottle as he takes notice of how much has been emptied since he last poured himself a drink. If he asks, you can account for every swig you’ve taken on the nights when you want to dull your senses, on the nights when he’s not with you. 

The noises are domestic and soothing, but the kettle’s whistle is like another blow to your temple and you can’t smother the noise of discomfort you make. 

Joel’s footsteps pause, but then the noises of him pouring you a mug of the hot water continues and those footsteps continue until you can feel him in front of you.

You let yourself have the few extra seconds it takes for him to set the mug on the table before you force your eyes open and look at him. 

He’s already frowning, suspicious about the entire situation, but he gets his confirmation when you have to tip your head back to make eye contact and your face is illuminated in the harsh overhead light.

His big hand is on your jaw before you can blink, but his grip gentles when you wince and he gently turns your face this way and that to see the extent of the damage. His eyes trail down your neck and across the stretched out neckline of your shirt, all the bare skin he can see, and his jaw rocks hard enough to capsize a boat on a turbulent ocean.

“What happened?” 

There’s no getting out of this. The demand in his voice and the anger sparking in his eyes makes you feel warm for the first time that night. It stokes dark emotions, the ones you don’t like to dwell on too much, and the first thread of satisfaction unfurls in your belly. You know giving him names will mean bad things for those men, but you can’t find it in you to care. Maybe they knocked it out of you with their fists. 

So you tell him, giving him the identifying features you remember. He’s quiet as he lets you talk uninterrupted, but the emotions that cross his face are enough to give you an idea of his thoughts. He snatches a clean washcloth from somewhere and wets it with the alcohol, the fumes curling into your nose when he presses it to your cheekbone.

His brows furrow when you mention the flower, and you’re thankful that you can use the firm press of the washcloth on scraped skin to camouflage the wince at the reminder of how unsuited you are for a world like this. 

When he’s finished cleaning the scrapes on your face his thumb swipes tenderly over the curve of your chin once.

“I'll take care of it.”

You don't even have the urge to protest, to tell him he doesn't have to. You want him to take care of it, to take care of you. You want someone to care. And while it’s not bouquets of flowers and candies that melt in your mouth, the warmth from the mug is seeping into your hands and his touch wipes away the violence that clings to your skin. He’ll take that violence and return it tenfold, you know it. 

His movements are filled with purpose and he only pauses with his hand on the door to give you a stern look.

“Lock up behind me.”

The next day is just like the one before it. Unable to do anything else without a fresh supply of ration cards, you go to work and try to ignore the pain that has settled in your body. You don’t even mind it that much, it’s nice to feel something else. 

You’re not stupid though, so when your shift is over you make sure to leave from the front entrance when a few others are heading out as well. It’s a small group, but they scatter and go their separate ways, their steps quickening after they notice the figure leaning on the corner of the building. From that spot he’d be able to see both exits, and when he sees you he pushes off to stand tall, waiting. Your feet move on their own before you completely register the surprise of his presence, falling into place beside him and matching his uneven stride. 

A nudge at your hand snaps you out of your whirling thoughts and makes you look down. His hands are always ruddy from the cold, but now dark purple joins the red and there’s a couple of places where the skin broke over the hard bone of his knuckles. The stack of ration cards trembles just once in his grip, maybe from the wind or a movement of his muscles, but you take it from him and stare down at it. There, tucked into the string securing the cards together, is the crocus blossom. A droplet of moisture that had clung to the snapped stem transfers to your fingertip when you touch it. He must’ve done it while he was waiting.

“Thank you, Joel.” 

Joel is watching you when you look up from the cards. His dark eyes are calm, his jaw moving as he takes in your expression. He chews on the sentiment he sees there as if working it over will make it more palatable, something easier to swallow, and you hope he doesn’t spit it out.

[martsonmars]

Thanks for the tags @monbons @hushed-chorus and @whatevertheweather. I'm back and it's pick a WIP Sunday!

I really want to get back into writing Snowbaz and participating actively in the fandom. I don't exactly have more free time but I did graduate and I am technically on holiday until October, so let's try.

So I'm sharing snippets from 6 WIPs and maybe I'll be inspired to finish one of them. Help me out!!!!

1. Where Baz is a different blood sucking creature than usual. Prince and the frog but the prince is just a guy and the frog is trying to steal your blood.

The heat would be more than sufficient to make Simon reconsider all of his life choices. Give up on meat. Never touch plastic again. He'd do anything.

But no, clearly whatever sin he's committed—was it writing Jesus/Judas fanfiction when he was 15? It wasn't even explicit!—was enough to condemn him to this.

2. Holiday with the Grimms, where Simon and Baz share a bed in the same room as Malcolm and Daphne.

“Sorry I haven't delivered to my father an updated list of all the cocks I've sucked.” He wasn't smiling, but I could hear the smirk in his voice. The fake smugness. I know he's sucked half a cock (half sucked one cock?) and it was quite a disaster. “He doesn't know how deeply my virtue has already been fucked.”

I still snort at the thought. (The answer is not deeply at all.)

3. TA Simon and Baz showing up to class in a slutty Blackbeard cosplay.

I don't need a complaint for assault (let alone sexual assault) to drive my doctorate even farther away from my grasp.

I just need Grimm-Pitch to leave my classroom and come back wearing proper trousers before my overworked brain cells decide to go on permanent strike. (I'm not sure they haven't deserted me already.)

More snippets and tags under the cut!

4. Where Baz is a dryad and Simon is a woodcutter.

Simon didn't know many things, but he was pretty sure that pines weren't pretty men with long dark hair and pouty lips. Of course, Simon had never seen a man with dark green skin before, either, but he resembled a man more than a pine.

“You are not a pine. You're a man,” Simon voiced his scepticism, and he was rewarded with one more pine cone hitting his forehead. If nothing, the tree man had an impeccable aim.

5. Secret concept for this one.

Tucked in a corner as if he was trying to make himself seem smaller, yet he's got my attention like the masterpiece in a museum. Even the dim light of the pizzeria is enough to imagine the shine of his bronze curls under the summer sun. He's pale and freckled, broad and solid. Sturdy like the old table in my living room. I can perfectly see how he'd fit there, between a stack of Spinoza's complete works and the cabinet where my grandmother's Capodimonte porcelain sits unused. His back to the floor-to-ceiling window that opens on the terrace, surrounded by the bright halo of the hours before sunset. Bright like a Michelangelo in a room that's all Caravaggio.

6. This one I'm going to continue for sure when inspiration strikes, so it's not part of pick a WIP Sunday. It's maybe guess the WIP Sunday in this case.

“Sounds like you could use a break,” his deep voice says from a corner of the hall, as if he's read my mind. I see a pair of long legs first—legs for miles—crossing the room towards me, wrapped in a pair of trousers so tight I can't help but wonder how he'll take them off. (Not that I'm thinking of Baz without trousers.) (I mean, I've seen him without trousers. He wears chitons most of the time.) (He also wears really short shorts.) (I just mean I'm not thinking about taking his trousers off.) (Just. I mean.)

Tags!! No pressure just saying hi because I miss you all!!!

@facewithoutheart @sillyunicorn @onepintobean @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @palimpsessed @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy @orange-peony @larkral @raenestee @stitchyqueer @technetiumai @brilla-brilla-estrellita @thewholelemon @theimpossibledemon @j-nipper-95 @imagineacoolusername @blackberrysummerblog @theearlgreymage @rimeswithpurple @messofthejess @alexalexinii @nightimedreamersworld @captain-aralias @jbrrring @prettygoododds @youarenevertooold @best--dress @theotherhufflepuff @run-for-chamo-miles @valeffelees @dragoneggos @gekkoinapeartree @ionlydrinkhotwater @erzbethluna @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @shemakesmeforget @basiltonbutliketheherb @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @aristocratic-otter @noblecorgi

[niffler-gold]

Burning

Just a short injury fic focused on Scott with some comfort thrown in.

His muscles burned in agony as he tried to get up this morning. Apparently doing two mountain rescues back to back with a lot of climbing followed by rigorous water training led by Gordon did not agree with his muscles. Still nothing a hot shower and some stretching wouldn't fix.

He slowly pulled his legs over the side of the bed and stretched up towards the ceiling his joints loudly cracking to show their disdain at being moved from their current position. He quickly pulled on his running gear and was about to head out before his hot shower. Leaving his room he could already hear Gordon furiously swimming in the pool at this early hour.

Just as he was heading down the stairs to start his early morning routine John popped up on his com. He groaned internally before answering, knowing his hot shower was going to have to wait. "What's the situation John", he asked, ever the professional. "Another climber got into difficulties". Scott paused before answering, "That is the third one in less than 2 days, what are these people thinking, we should start charging for these at least that might be a deterrent", he rambled on. John cut him off before he could get any further, "even so this guy does need our help", he paused for a second before continuing, "it's an unusual one, he was climbing a large cliff face when he said the cliff seemed to move under him, next thing he knew all of his belay wall clips started pinging undone and he fell around 50 metres getting tangled in the line as he went... The unusual thing is I haven't detected any seismic activity around that area nor does it have any implications in the surrounding geology that any seismic activity has taken place in the last 100 years. "He's probably just imagining it and didn't secure his clips properly enough", grumbled Scott in response. "Could be" replied John, "but I did a quick background check on this guy and he's been climbing professionally for about 30 years and has never called us or any local rescue teams out to aid him before." "Hmmmm, that is odd" pondered Scott. "I'll take 1 alone, no need to wake up the bear this early for a pickup.. see you in the sky thunderbird 5", "fab scott, safe flight" and with that John had disappeared and Scott was running towards one's launch shoot to gear up.

Sitting in the pilot's chair of one he slowly tried to stretch his burning muscles out once more but to no avail. He really could have done with that hot shower he thought to himself. Nevermind it could wait. "Approaching the danger zone now thunderbird 5" he called through the coms. "Fab thunderbird 1" John called back through to him. He tried one last futile time to stretch his muscles out before coming into land at the bottom of the cliff face.

After exiting one and surveying the scene before him he knew the best option was going to be to climb up after the man rather than using the jet pack due to the unknown unstable condition of the rock face. Thankfully he could use the grapple gun in order to get up there with speed as the man looked to be hanging on his side completely covered in rope. With precision he fired the grapple into a secure spot of the wall and started his accent.

His limbs were once again burning with the strain of the climb by the time he had reached the man. But still he kept face and called out to the dangling climber. He quickly learned that the man's name was Ben and started trying to secure him to a new line before tackling the rope that was binding him. Luckily Ben seemed unharmed apart from a little bit of rope burn where it had dug in and caught him.

Ben kept chatting to him as he worked and he soon found out he was a seasoned mountain rescue operative on a holiday as he called it to get a little alone time. It was definitely something that Scott would have done if he ever had more than a few hours to himself and he kept wondering how the climber had managed to get himself in such a bind. Soon enough though Ben was free and was back secured against the wall. However before Scott could lower Ben down back to the ground again they had to get his gear cut down so they didn't tangle up with it on their way down.

As Ben was helping him sort it out he noticed something odd. One of the belay wall clips looked chard and burnt and the rope around said clip was in similar condition. He looked at Ben and asked if his equipment was this damaged when securing it to the wall. Ben confirmed it most definitely was not in that condition, then he noted that when assessing the rope to be cut down back to the ground, that would of been the clip that failed when the cliff started moving. This puzzled Scott even more.

Once the gear and ropes had been safely thrown back down to the ground Scott got ready to lower Ben down to safety. But before he could he asked Ben if he knew whereabouts on the wall that the burnt clip had been secured. His Tracy senses were tingling alarmingly but not in a good way at all. Ben said it looks like it was the clip about 10 meters above them, so Scott decided he needed to take a look before returning to the ground. Scott slowly lowered ben back down to solid ground before slowly climbing to the spot Ben had previously pointed out to him.

He quickly found the spot where the clip had been as a small black spot protruded out of the crack where the clip had been secured. Small cracks could also be seen in the burnt section of the wall. He slowly felt around inside the small fisher to see what could have caused the damage as nothing natural would do this type of carnage. His fingers slowly curled around something metallic small and sharp. He cautiously pulled it out and held it to the light to better examine it. He could just make out the chaos crew logo.

His hand flew up to his com button to alert John but in a split second a fireball had engulfed a section of cliff high above him to his right. An ear splitting explosion suddenly came from his left much nearer to him than the first. He started rappelling down the cliff as fast as his equipment would take him. Another explosion just above him and he could feel the heat lick the side of his face. It had detonated where he had just been a second before. Next thing he knew he was falling. The explosion had dislodged his grapple.

He fell as fire and debris surrounded him on all sides. He fumbled with a new grapple cartridge, discarding the old one out of the gun and fired. The line caught him less than 10 meters from the ground. Before he had a chance to get moving again a last fireball explosion detonated just below his right leg.

He was lying on the ground his ears ringing. He could see smoke floating all around him as his vision swam. His right leg was numb with scalding pain shooting all around it. His vision swam when he tensed it unknowingly. He could hear muffled movement round him someone shouting his name. The next time his eyes peeled open against the heat a figure loomed over him. He seemed to be yelling something but it sounded so far away. Green and blue swam in his vision as he lost consciousness once again.

He could hear low murmuring voices all around him. His head swam with confusion. He could feel soft cotton sheets wrapped around him and the tell tale sting of an IV line inserted into his left arm. His body felt numb and his right leg had an odd feeling of coolness about it. Gingerly he opened one eye to figure out what was going on.

He was greeted with the sight of all his brothers sitting around the bed he had been put in. He heard a low chorus of Scott being said around the room as his eyes adjusted to the light of the room. He felt a hand on his and saw Virgil gently holding it looking like he hadn't slept in over a week. "What happend" he gently asked looking at his little brother in the eyes. His voice came out quite horse and raspy much to his surprise. "The chaos crew" Virgil replied quietly and solemnly. Suddenly the images of the rescue and the carnage that had surrounded him came back into his mind. "How bad he asked" still looking at his brother. It was John who answered instead on the opposite side of his bed. "Unconscious for 3 days, bruised ribs and a definite concussion..." He seemed to trail off towards the end. Scott knew he was avoiding telling him something but before he had a chance to enquire further Gordon finished off for John. " Your right leg", he stated nervously. "When we found you it was blackened and chard, your uniform was missing and the parts that were still there were fused into your skin". "The doctors managed to save it though" he said cheerfully trying his hardest to lighten the mood. Alan chose this moment to interject, "you've had multiple skin grafts and surgeries to assist with its healing, for now it's got to stay in the specialty brace to keep it healing and healthy." So that's why, he thought to himself, it felt slightly cold.

He could already feel the sleep tugging at his eye lids as he looked at his brother's noticing how worried and anxious they all seemed to look. Virgil gently brushed the hair back of his forehead, "sleep Scotty" he gently whispered as everything started going black again.

A month later and Scott was sitting at his father's desk keeping an eye out on the rescue that the rest of his brothers were on. He still was on crutches as he wasn't allowed any weight on the leg just yet. The brace that surrounded it kept it nice and cool though.

He thought back to that morning where all he wanted was a nice hot shower but had decided to go running instead. He should have just had the shower he thought to himself. At the moment all he was allowed was a gentle cold shower due to his injuries. He sighed to himself knowing it was still gonna be a little while until he could have the hot water pouring down his skin.

"SCOTT WHAT ARE YOU DOING", yelled Virgil having just materialised on the holo projector in the middle of the room. "What" Scott replied with his cocky grin on his face. "I'm sitting down" he tried not to laugh at the expression on Virgil's face. "You are meant to be elevating that leg, not sitting at the desk". Well at least some things never changed.