#(look- I will Never stop Feeling Things about what Louie has been through and how Alone he sometimes feels)

[valkyriexo]

Friday Night Lights | Lee Know

ᑉ³pairing; Jock Lee Know x Nerd Reader

ᑉ³genre; Fluff, Smut

ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI ,dirty talk, swearing, oral m reciving,

ᑉ³Authors Note; 1k event Commisson giveaway winner Louie <3 (sorry it took so long :((( )

You’re used to staying in your lane.

In college, that means your nights are spent at the library, working on assignments, attending study groups, or listening to the whispers of people about crushes, weekend plans, and sometimes, the star athletes on campus. You don't usually pay much attention to that last one—until the whispers turn to Lee Minho. Lee Minho is… different. Confident, popular, and utterly untouchable. He’s the star of the football team, the guy people can’t stop talking about, but also somehow your friend.

Well, sort of.

You met through Jisung, your mutual friend, who has a way of pulling people together. You’ve spoken a few times—mostly polite hellos and small talk whenever Jisung ropes you into attending his hangouts—but every time you do, you find yourself tripping over your words.

You tell yourself it’s nothing—he’s just another guy, after all. But the way your heart races every time his attention flickers to you says otherwise.

“You’re coming to Minho’s game this Friday, right?” Jisung’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

You blink, caught off guard, and turn to face him. “What?”

Jisung leans back in his chair, balancing it on two legs like he always does, completely unfazed. “The game. This Friday. You’re coming, right?” He grins, as if your attendance is already a done deal.

“I don’t know...” you trail off, trying to avoid his expectant gaze. Crowds aren’t really your thing, and the idea of sitting through a packed football game is enough to make your stomach churn.

“Oh, come on,” he groans, dropping the chair back onto all four legs with a loud thud. “You’ve been holed up in this library all week. You need a break.”

You frown, shuffling your notebook to pretend like you’re busy. “I don’t really do... games.”

“You don’t have to ‘do games.’ You just have to show up. Cheer a little, look cute, and maybe—just maybe—have fun.” His tone is light, but the sly look he shoots you suggests he’s up to something.

Your suspicion grows. “Why do you care if I go?”

“Because it’s the homecoming game,” he says. “You know, one of the biggest games of the year? Minho’s going to kill me if you don’t show up.”

When you don’t respond, he rolls his eyes. “You know, Minho? Our mutual friend? The guy you can barely form a sentence around?”

“I do not—”

“Yes, you do,” he interrupts with a smile, leaning forward on his elbows. “And I think he’d appreciate the support. He’s been working really hard this season, and besides...”

You tilt your head, confused. “Why would he care if I’m there? I’ve never even been to one of his games.”

“That’s exactly why he’d care!” Jisung groans, throwing his head back dramatically. “Do you know how many times he’s asked me why you never go? He thinks you hate football or something.”

“I don’t hate football,” you say defensively, though the thought of navigating the chaotic energy of a packed stadium doesn’t exactly fill you with joy. “I’ve just... never really had a reason to go.”

Jisung smirks, leaning forward on his elbows. “Well, now you do.The entire campus is going to be there—students, alumni, even the marching band’s pulling out all the stops. It’s a whole thing. You have to come.”

You hesitate, nibbling on your bottom lip. It’s not like you don’t want to support Minho—he’s always been kind to you in his own aloof, confident way. But showing up at a game, where everyone’s eyes will be on him—and by extension, anyone he cares about—feels overwhelming.

“I don’t know, Ji. Crowds aren’t really my thing.”

“Crowds aren’t the thing,” he says, cutting you off with a sly grin. “Minho is."

Your stomach flips at the thought. You’ve never seen him play before, never witnessed the version of Minho everyone talks about when they say his name with awe. The star athlete, the leader on the field.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble, quickly shuffling your papers as an excuse to avoid Jisung’s knowing look.

“Uh-huh,” he says, sitting back with an exaggerated shrug. “Just don’t be surprised when I text you the details anyway. You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

So, somehow, you find yourself in the bleachers that Friday night, bundled in your warmest jacket, pretending you’re not scanning the field for one particular player. It doesn’t take long for you to find him. Even among his teammates, Minho stands out, laughing with them, helmet under one arm as he warms up. It’s a little surreal, watching him from here; he’s all focus and intensity, so different from the relaxed, teasing guy you usually see at Jisung’s hangouts. You can’t help feeling your heart race a little faster.

As the game starts, you find yourself getting drawn in, caught up in the energy around you. The team is good, and Minho, even better. It’s not hard to see why he’s the star. Every play he’s part of feels....different. He’s practically flying across the field, tackling opponents, calling shots, making everything look effortless. You can’t keep your eyes off him.

And then it happens.

It’s fast—too fast, really—and at first, you’re not sure what’s wrong.

One second, Minho is sprinting down the field, his face set with determination as he cuts through defenders like they’re nothing. The next, there’s a collision, hard and brutal. The sound of it echoes in the stadium, a collective gasp rising from the crowd.

Your breath catches as you see him go down, gripping his ankle. For a moment, everything else disappears—the noise of the crowd, the whistle from the referee, even Jisung’s voice shouting something beside you. All you can see is Minho on the ground, pain written across his face.

Your heart pounds as players gather around him, the medics rushing onto the field. He tries to get up, but it’s clear he can’t put any weight on his leg. The sight twists something deep in your chest, and before you realize what you’re doing, you’re halfway to your feet.

“Hey,” Jisung says, grabbing your arm and pulling you back down. “He’ll be okay. It’s probably just a sprain or something.”

But Jisung’s words do little to calm the panic bubbling inside you. From this distance, you can’t hear what the medics are saying, but the way Minho shakes his head and slams his fist into the ground tells you it’s bad.

The game pauses as they help him off the field, his arm slung around a teammate’s shoulder, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. Your stomach churns, and for the rest of the game, no matter how loud the crowd gets or how exciting the plays are, you can’t focus. Your eyes keep drifting to the sideline, where Minho sits with his head down, his ankle wrapped in ice.

And all you can think about is how you wish you could do something to help him.

The rest of the game feels like a blur. The energy in the stadium surges back eventually, but not for you. Your eyes keep flicking toward the sideline, where Minho sits with his injured leg propped up, his arms crossed and a stormy expression on his face. Even from a distance, you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he’s forcing himself to stay composed despite the obvious frustration simmering beneath the surface.

Jisung nudges you with his elbow, breaking your trance. “Relax. Minho’s tough. He’ll be fine.”

You nod stiffly, not trusting your voice enough to reply. Jisung’s probably right—Minho is strong, the kind of guy who shrugs off pain like it’s nothing. But something about the way he looked when they carried him off the field makes your chest feel heavy.

When the game finally ends, with your school securing a narrow victory, the crowd erupts in cheers. Students flood the field to celebrate, but you can’t seem to share their enthusiasm. Instead, you find yourself lingering near the bleachers, watching as the team huddles together, Minho still sitting apart, his helmet resting forgotten at his feet.

“Come on,” Jisung says, tugging on your sleeve. “Let’s go check on him.”

Your heart skips. “What? No. He’s probably surrounded by people—he doesn’t need me there.”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re his friend too. Besides, if you don’t come, I’ll just tell him you were too shy to say hi, and then he’ll feel bad.”

You glare at him, but the teasing glint in his eyes leaves you with no room to argue. Before you know it, you’re weaving through the lingering crowd, your pulse quickening with every step closer to the team’s bench.

When you reach him, Minho is leaning back against the bench, his jaw clenched and his eyes distant. His ankle is now heavily wrapped, a crutch resting beside him.

“Minho!” Jisung calls, grinning as if nothing’s out of the ordinary. “You okay, man? That hit looked brutal.”

Minho glances up, his expression softening slightly when he sees Jisung—and then landing on you. His gaze lingers for a moment, and you suddenly forget how to breathe.

“I’ve been better,” he mutters, managing a wry smile. “But I’ll live.”

“You scared the crap out of them,” Jisung says, jerking his thumb in your direction. “They were about to jump the fence and carry you off the field themself.”

“Jisung!” you hiss, smacking his arm, but Minho chuckles, the sound low and warm despite the situation.

“You were worried about me?” he asks, tilting his head as he looks at you.

Your cheeks burn, and you scramble for a response that doesn’t make you sound ridiculous. “I mean... you went down pretty hard. Anyone would’ve been worried.”

His smile widens, a hint of his usual confidence returning. “Well, thanks for caring.”

The simplicity of his words, paired with the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, sends your heart into overdrive. You want to say more, to ask if he’s really okay, but the weight of his gaze and the teasing grin tugging at his lips leaves you tongue-tied.

“Anyway,” Jisung cuts in, oblivious to the tension hanging in the air, “you should let them take care of you. They're great at worrying—practically a professional.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands as Minho chuckles again.

“Noted,” he says, his tone lighter now, almost playful. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

And just like that, you realize you might be in deeper than you ever thought.

Over the next two weeks, Minho’s injury changes things. He’s benched for practices, forced to watch from the sidelines while his teammates run drills and scrimmage. The ever-present crutches are a constant reminder of his temporary setback, though he still somehow makes them look effortlessly cool.

The trouble starts when Jisung complains one afternoon, flopping dramatically into the seat next to you in the library.

“I can’t keep babysitting Minho,” he groans. “We don’t even have the same classes, and Coach keeps glaring at me every time I’m late because I’m helping him to practice. You should do it.”

You frown. “Me? Why me?”

Jisung grins slyly, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “You’re the only other person he talks to as much as me. Besides, you’re better at dealing with his diva moments.”

“Diva moments?” you ask, incredulous.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Despite your protests, Jisung isn’t one to take no for an answer, and by the next morning, Minho’s waiting for you outside your lecture hall, leaning on his crutches with an easy grin.

“Hey,” he says casually, as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

You blink at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Jisung said you’d help me get to practice,” he replies, his grin widening when he sees the look on your face. “Don’t worry. I’m not that high-maintenance.”

You sigh, already feeling like you’re in over your head. “Fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Helping Minho quickly becomes a routine. Every afternoon, you meet him after his last class to walk—well, technically hobble—to the field. At first, it’s awkward, mostly because Minho seems determined to act like his injury isn’t a big deal, even when he’s obviously struggling. But over time, the walks become... easier.

Minho, for all his bravado, is surprisingly easy to talk to. He asks you questions about your classes, your favorite things, even what made you decide to go to the homecoming game. His teasing is still there, but it’s lighter, less guarded, and you find yourself opening up to him in ways you didn’t expect.

One afternoon, as you’re walking back from practice, Minho turns to you suddenly.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

He gestures to his crutches, his expression unusually serious. “Helping me. I know it’s a hassle.”

You stop walking, frowning at him. “It’s not a hassle, Minho. I don’t mind.”

He looks at you for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you. Then, he smiles—soft and genuine, the kind that makes your heart skip.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

You’re about to keep walking when he doesn’t move, shifting his weight awkwardly on his crutches. His expression tightens like he’s debating something with himself, and before you can ask, he speaks again.

“You know... I'm not kidding,” he says, his voice lower now.

“Kidding about what?” you ask, genuinely confused.

“About this being a hassle,” he replies, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “But not for the reasons you think.”

You tilt your head, frowning. “Minho, that doesn’t even make sense.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, the sound more nervous than amused. “What I mean is... it’s a hassle because I’m trying really hard not to screw this up.”

Your heart skips. “Screw what up?”

“This,” he says, his dark eyes locking on yours. “Us. Whatever this is. Because, honestly? I like you.”

The words hit you like a wave, and you’re left standing there, staring at him as your brain scrambles to catch up.

“You… like me?” you echo, your voice barely above a whisper.

Minho nods, shifting his grip on his crutches as if they’re the only thing grounding him. “Yeah, I do. I’ve been trying not to make it obvious, but these past couple of weeks? Spending time with you, talking to you... it’s just made it harder to ignore.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. “Minho, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupts, his tone gentle but firm. “I just needed you to know. Even if you don’t feel the same, I... I couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t care about you like this.”

The raw honesty in his voice takes you by surprise, and before you can second-guess yourself, the words tumble out.

“I do feel the same,” you admit, your cheeks burning as you look at him. “I just didn’t think you would.”

Minho blinks, clearly startled, before his lips curve into a slow, disbelieving smile. “You mean that?”

You nod, unable to stop the small smile creeping onto your face. “Yeah, I do.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, his expression soft and full of something you can’t quite name. Then, he exhales a laugh, shaking his head.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he says, his grin widening. “I was starting to think Jisung would kill me if I didn’t say something.”

You laugh, the tension between you melting away. “He probably would.”

Minho straightens up, his confidence sliding back into place. “So, does this mean I can keep making you carry my stuff to practice? You know, since you like me and all.”

You roll your eyes, already regretting this. “Don’t push your luck, Minho.”

The days blend together, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you realize you’ve started looking forward to your time with him. The walks, the conversations, the way he glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking—it’s all so much more than you ever thought it could be.

But today feels different.

When you show up to meet Minho after practice, the field is empty. His crutches aren’t propped up by the bench where he usually waits, and there’s no sign of his teammates. You glance around, your chest tightening with a mix of confusion and unease.

“Minho?” you call out, but the only answer is the faint hum of fluorescent lights from the building nearby.

Frowning, you decide to check inside. The locker room is usually bustling after practice, but as you step in, it’s eerily quiet. The air smells faintly of sweat and detergent, and the echo of your footsteps makes the space feel even emptier.

You turn a corner, and that’s when you see him.

Minho is sitting on one of the benches, his crutches leaning against the wall beside him. His head is bowed, his hair falling into his face as he stares at the ground. There’s a tension in his posture, his shoulders hunched like he’s carrying the weight of the world.

“Minho?” you say softly, stepping closer.

He doesn’t look up right away, but you see the subtle way his shoulders relax at the sound of your voice. “Hey,” he mutters, his tone lacking its usual spark.

You sit down beside him, your knee brushing against his. “What’s going on? I thought we were meeting outside.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I just... needed a minute.”

You wait, giving him the space to speak. When he finally looks at you, his eyes are shadowed with something you don’t see often—uncertainty.

“I hate this,” he admits quietly, gesturing to the crutches beside him. “Sitting out, watching everyone else practice, knowing I can’t do anything. It’s... frustrating.”

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his voice. “Minho, it’s okay to feel that way,” you say gently. “But this is temporary. You’ll be back out there before you know it.”

He scoffs, his lips pressing into a thin line. “What if I’m not? What if I come back and I’m not as good? Or worse, what if I get hurt again?”

“Then you deal with it,” you say firmly, surprising even yourself. “Because you’re Minho. You don’t let anything stop you. And besides...” You hesitate, your voice softening. “You’re more than just football. At least, to me you are.”

He blinks, his eyes searching yours. “You really mean that?”

You nod, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from his face. “Of course I do. You’re amazing, Minho, even when you’re not on the field.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. Then, he reaches for your hand, his fingers warm as they curl around yours.

Minho’s thumb traces over your knuckles in gentle circles, and he looks down at your intertwined hands with a soft, almost shy smile.

There’s something unspoken hanging in the air between you, a feeling that’s been growing with every passing day, but now, in the quiet of the locker room, it’s impossible to ignore.

You feel it too—the shift, the tension, the undeniable pull drawing you closer. His gaze lifts from your hands to your face, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

For a moment, neither of you moves. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the stillness of the locker room, the soft sound of his breath mingling with yours.

“You know,” Minho starts, his voice low, almost hesitant, “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

Your heart beats faster, your pulse quickening. “Do what?” you whisper, even though you already know.

Minho doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he leans in slowly, his face inching closer to yours, his lips barely brushing against the air between you. His hand moves to your cheek, his fingers warm and gentle against your skin.

And then, without another word, his lips are on yours.

It’s tentative at first, soft and uncertain, as if he’s waiting for you to pull away, but you don’t. You tilt your head, your free hand reaching up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. When you kiss him back, it’s like everything clicks into place—like this was always meant to happen.

The kiss deepens, slow and explorative, as if you’re both savoring the moment. His lips are soft, warm, and he smells like freshly cut grass and the faintest trace of cologne. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your other hand finding its way to his waist, holding him against you.

For a long moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in the feeling of something new and exciting, something neither of you ever expected. And when you finally pull away, breathless and slightly dazed, Minho rests his forehead against yours, his smile lazy but full of warmth.

“I think,” he murmurs, his voice low, “I could get used to this.”

You smile, feeling a quiet thrill at the thought. “Then I guess we’ll have to make it happen.”

Minho's grin softens, his hand still warm against your cheek, and he leans in once more.

This time, the kiss is different—deeper, more certain. There’s no hesitation, no wondering if this is okay. His other hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space between you. His lips move against yours, gentle yet deliberate, as if he’s making up for all the times he’d held back.

You respond, feeling braver now, your fingers finding their way to his collar, tugging him just a bit closer. The locker room is completely forgotten; it’s just you and Minho, the world melting away around you.

You wanted him, of this you were sure.

"Darling, why don't you let me help you forget about it all?" You purred, as your hands made their way down his chest stopping at his waist. You pulled him towards you and kissed him harder, your need for him overpowering any doubt that was left in your mind.

You knelt between his legs, the anticipation building between you. You place both of your hands on his legs and slowly began to push them apart, allowing yourself to slide in between.

"Y/n…" he said, placing his hand on top of yours, almost as if to stop you. His fingers lingered, trembling slightly. "A-Are you sure? " he said "I don't want to pressure you"

"Shh... let me," you replied softly, as you began to unbuckle his belt, your eyes never leaving his. "I want you, Minho. I want this."

He groaned as you palmed him through his boxers. You could feel him getting harder under your hands.

"Y-you don't have to, baby" He said through his moans. You slowly pulled down his boxers, his  erection springing free. "We can take it slo-OH," You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his pink tip.

You continued by placing a trail of kisses down his cock, keeping eye contact with him. You licked your way back up to the tip and took him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, tasting his pre-cum as it seeped from the top.

He couldn't help but throw his head back and lean further onto the bench. His breath caught in his throat as his ears began to turn a shade of red. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock.

The only thing heard in the locker room is the lewd sounds coming from your mouth along with his whimpers.

Minho moaned loudly, his hips bucking involuntarily. You took him deeper into your mouth and sucking harder than before. You reached up to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your fingers as you continued to pleasure him.

"Fuck, Y/N," He moaned. "That feels so good. You're so good."

You responded with a low growl, taking him even deeper, his tip kissing the back of your throat.

Your lips were locked around his shaft. You choked slightly around his cock, tears beginning to fall from your eyes as his tip hit the back of your throat continuously.

He whined for more, almost sobbing when you completely removed yourself from around him, removing your lips from him with a pop.

You lick your way up his cock, once again paying extra attention to his swollen tip. His gaze locked onto yours, he began to thrust his hips forward, his thick, hard cock pressing against your lips. You parted them slightly, allowing him to slide inside once again.

He began to fuck your mouth roughly, his cock sliding in and out of your throat with each thrust. You could feel the saliva dripping down your chin, but you didn't care - the only thing that mattered was pleasing him.

"I'm go-gonna.... fuck.. gonna cum." he said, his thrusts beginning to slow down.

You feel the familiar slip of your glasses down the bridge of your nose, threatening to fall off completely.

Before you can react, Minho’s hand gently brushes against your nose, and with a soft chuckle, he reaches up, pushing your glasses back into place. His fingers linger just a moment longer than necessary, his touch warm against your skin. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, your glasses sliding sending him overboard, and his cum paints your throat. You swallowed, your eyes never leaving his as you sucked him dry. 

He pulled his cock out, and you pressed your thumb down onto his dripping red tip.

The lower half of your face glistens, your features wet with your his cum.

"Fuck you're pretty" he said hold your chin with his hand. “I didn’t know you knew how to do that," his voice a mix of amusement and admiration. “You’ve always seemed like the super nerdy type—guess I was wrong.”

You laugh, feeling a bit shy under his gaze. “Well, I do have my moments of... unexpected skills.”

Minho’s smile softens, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you reply, a grin tugging at your lips. “Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out more.”

He chuckles, leaning in again, and you both fall back into the moment, the world outside fading away once more.

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[littlelalu]

FaceTime | Milo Manheim (Slight Smut)

WARNING: Some cussing ... some sexual words....

NOTE: Y/N = Your name

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

FaceTime

The silence in the apartment felt heavier than usual tonight. I am used to hearing Milo’s laughter echo through the place. He has been gone for a little over a month to film season 2 of School Spirits in Vancouver. I couldn’t go with him due to my job and school. This has been the longest time without seeing each other. We do Facetime, call, and text every day but it’s not the same. I want him here, with me. I knew what I was getting myself into when I began dating him, but I didn’t expect to miss him this much. This week was the worst too. I have been wanting “him”. I keep having flashbacks from the last time we had sex. His hands are all over my body, His m, his plus eyes. I have been doing everything to keep my mind off it by watching shows, going on a walk with Louie, and doing homework. NOTHING HELPS.

From the corner of my eye, I saw my phone screen lit up. I grabbed my phone and checked who it was. It was Milo.

“Hey Babe. Just got done filming and I am heading to the hotel now. Are you still up?” he said when I answered.

We have a 2-hour time difference. “Hiii babe! Yeah, it’s only 8 here haha. How was filming?” I texted back. I saw the little text bubble pop up again.

 ‘It was fucking amazing. We filmed a crazy scene that I will tell you more about later, but that shit was scary as hell.”

‘Scaredy cat” I joked.

 “Mean,” he said with a giggle.

“ Anyways do you have plans tonight with the cast again?” I asked curiously. I want to try something new.

“Nope. Why? Want to Facetime?”

“Yes!” I said too quickly, making him laugh.

“Give me like an hour. I am like 25 minutes away from the hotel and I want to shower. “

“Same here. See you soon babe.” I said before we hung up.

I passed some time by going on TikTok and scrolling through videos. After half an hour, I got up from the couch and began getting my things ready so I could shower.

~~~After shower. ~~~

I quickly changed into a crop top and shorts since I took a little longer in the shower than I thought I would. I walked into my room and grabbed my laptop. As my Macbook turned on, I texted Milo.

Hey babe. Are you good to go?

Yes ma’am! Start the call!

I started the Facetime call on my laptop. Milo answered instantly

“Hey, cutie!” He said as he answered. His hair looked messy and slightly wet from his shower. He could see his bare skin. Oh God. He’s shirtless.

“Miloooo!” I said excitedly. “How was your day love?”

“Besides having fun filming, it was pretty chill. We had to reshoot some scenes because we kept getting out of character.”

We talked a bit more about his time on set, telling me that ‘scary’ scene he had to film. I was doing my best to pay attention, but he looked so fine. All I could think about was what I could do to him if he were here.

“You seem a bit off. Everything okay?” Milo said, bringing me back to reality.

“Yeah..” I said shyly, slightly blushing.

“What’s wrong, “Y/N”?” He asked sternly.

“I– I just miss ‘you’” I said.

“I miss you too, babe. No need to be upset right now. We will see each other soon” He said with a reassuring smile.

“No, Milo.” I sighed looking down slightly embarrassed. “I miss “you”’”

Milo looked confused at first. “What? What do you me-” He got quiet and his eyes widened. “Oh…”

“I-i’m sorry. I s-should go. I made this awkward.”

“Babe, no. Just caught me off guard. I never imagined you having these thoughts. You’re so innocent.” He said with a smirk.

“I’m not sure why I need you this way. I just do. This whole week has been crazy.”

“Well… “ He said “If it makes you feel any better… I miss “you” too.” He said using his hands to air a quote on ‘you”

I felt my cheeks get hot. “Really?”

“You have no idea. You left your mark on me before I left. Remember? I couldn’t stop thinking how wild you were” He said.

We did go crazy before he left—the best one for sure. 

I giggled. “Sorry about that. But no regrets” 

“Why don’t you show me how much you missed me?” He asked. 

I looked at him in shock. “H-how?”

“ Rub yourself.” He demanded.

Me being a good girl and started to do so. I took off my shorts and underwear and began to back my laptop. The angle of the camera can see my whole body now. I laid my back against the bedboard and spread my legs open. I grabbed a little bit of lotion and began rubbing myself. 

Slight moans came out of my mouth.

“Fuck babe” Milo groaned. “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

“Do the same, Milo,” I demanded him.

He set his phone down against something and started pulling down his joggers. He sat up on his bed. His dick is so hard. His tip throbbing. 

“You’re happy to see me,” I said and winked at him.

“I-I always am” as he began to stroke himself. “I want to f-feel you, babe. Me pinning you d-down bed. Pounding you from behind.” 

I rubbed myself a bit faster and started to let out some moans. “M-Milo. I-I need you in me. I want to r-ride you so b-bad.” 

He bit his lip trying not to moan loudly. “Take your shirt off.” He demanded again.

I raised my shirt. I wasn’t wearing my bra, so my breasts were exposed to him. 

“O-oh G-god, Y/N” he moaned. “I remember how much they bounced when I was pounding you.”

“I w-wish y-o-o-u were sucking on them r-right now.”

I saw him roll his head back.“F-fuck, Y/N” He moaned. “Finger yourself and Moan my name for me. Think of me fucking you right now.” He kept stroking himself.

I inserted two fingers like he would and moaned his name louder each time I pumped them in and out. I kept thinking of how he would fuck me so hard right now. He moaned slightly louder this time.

“I-I-I’m close, baby” He whimpered out and picked up his pace. 

“Me too” I groaned. I rubbed myself in the right spot and finished in my hand. I was panting.

I noticed Milo finished and was out of breath too. 

“That was something: he said slightly laughing. I giggled at his comment.

“Yeah. It really was.” 

“Hold on… I … ummm… gotta clean my mess” He said. 

I nodded. “Me too” We left the call open but went to clean ourselves up quickly. Once we were done we returned to our call.

“I miss you even more now…” He said.

“Almost time babe. Just three more weeks.” I said.

“We might have to do that again sometime soon. You look so beautiful moaning my name like that.”

“Milo!” I said, slightly blushing.

“Oh I’m sorry,” He said in a playful voice “Is the girl who mentioned she missed me fucking her acting innocent now?”

I rolled my eyes at him “Haha, very funny”

“Well…. Just know your dreams will become true very soon” He said and winked at the camera.

I have been counting down the days for that anyway. “I hope so. If not, I will just have to do it myself” I smirked at him.

He acted offended.”Don’t you dare.” 

“I’m just saying.” I giggled.

He yawned. “I’m tired now babe. Ima head to bed. I have to wake up early to film some more. I’ll text ya in the morning.”

“That’s fine love. Get some rest.”

“Goodnight babe. I love you so much, beautiful.” He said as he blew a kiss at me and waved at the camera.

I blew a kiss at him “Good night! I love you too, handsome.”

We ended the call.

I went to bed that night feeling relaxed and happy after that exciting call. Now, I have to wait for the real thing soon.

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

NOTE: I am posting this at midnight. I started working this Friday afternoon but was too busy to finish it. It's not my best as I have not written anything smut. But I'll see how it goes.

Time for bed for me.... Goodnight yall! :)

[beardyboyzx]

I've been thinking about my blog's title for a bit now. It's such a little thing, I know, but sometimes, when you're grieving, the little things seem so big.

I changed it on July 2nd 2023.

I still remember how happy I was of Zayn and Liam's interaction on ig. The way we all broke down when Zayn replied to Liam's comment, and when Liam replied to his reply.

Gosh, it feels so stupid to talk about this now.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about it, about whether or not to change it.

Every time I read it, I felt such a rush of joy running through me. Is it inappropriate now? Would it be tone deaf to keep it?

Then I look at my url, at my propic, at my bio.

Liam has always been an integral part of my fandom experience.

I became a fan in October, 2020. Before then, the only memories I had of 1D was my classmate in 2011, singing What Makes You Beautiful during class (and 17 year old me didn't really liked it); one of my twitter moots proudly defending Zayn when Mind of Mine came out, when Icarus Falls came out and she fiercely defended Liam when everyone was shitting on him for Both Ways and just hated on him for the sake of hating on someone.

I'm wondering how she's feeling now, she's not one of my moots anymore, but I'm hurting for her too.

As I was saying, I became a fan in October 2020. I had lost my mum in July, and I remember clearly searching for Habit by Louis. I was a solo louie for just a few days, because as soon as I found Liam's videos, I knew I was gonna go down the rabbit hole.

Zouiam were, are, what helped me cope with my grief. A grief that I'm still experiencing, now so tightly interwoven with this new fresh one.

Liam is the main reason why I'm a fan.

The reason why I met the friends I made, the reason why I didn't feel alone.

I don't even know what's the point of this post, but I was thinking that I'm probably never gonna change anything.

Not even that title.

Because looking at it makes me remember how happy Liam made me. How supportive he was of the other boys.

It will always remind me of all the things I have now got thanks to him.

I truly hope he knows now how much he's loved.

I'm gonna miss you so much.

[msfbgraves]

At this point, I feel like the only reason that Pop didn't shred Terry into ribbons is because he knew that despite it all, Daniel didn't want that. And to kill Terry would hurt Daniel more than anything. But. Jesus. Reading about that sweetheart crying into his parents arms--and screaming into his Ma's embrace--was just horrible and devastating. Terry is a total monster. Daniel only got through this not, I think, with his ability to forgive, but rather his immense capacity to love. And to think, Terry still cheats (UGHHHH), and Daniel still goes back to him. What, three days later? I'm so sorry, my sweet Danny. 

((But there's no anger there, he is so quiet when he does it, tears years in the making, so much more than one heartbreak pouring out of him.))

My heart aches for baby boy. It's the fact that his beloved Papa sold him, that he married a man who murders and destroys for a living. That he had to give himself up body and soul to a stranger who threatened violence at only 18. But not only these things. I can imagine how many small and larger hurts happened between him and Terry during the course of their marriage so far. And it's not even been 10 years when this happens. Daniel is like what, only 23, 24? God.

(And for what it's worth, FUCK Michael too. And Pop LaRusso as well, for selling off his youngest baby in the first place to this psychopath. Holy shit.)

All the men in Daniel's life are such trash. 

I of course agree with you and I am more than a little angry about what I'm referencing in the story, and also simply Daniel's situation. He was sold so that his siblings might live. Louie, Vanessa, Michael; they get to live their lives. It is Daniel who is paying for the failure of his father to keep the ranks within the Italian mob from rising up. Had he prevented that, Terry would have not seen an opportunity there and I think that his parents both understand it. Michael may feel that is was inevitable but his parents do feel personal guilt. And everyone but Daniel could have made different choices here. He's constantly confronted with the choice between hurting others or hurting himself. Even a 5 month old baby is hurt by Daniel potentially choosing to walk. Because Terry wouldn't let him the choice of a divorce. It's either he go back or he has to choose death. And that is a terrible situation; yet I think we all know that Daniel would self immolate before hurting others nearly always.

Having said all that.

Terry is not at retrospect a worse person because he let his entitlement get the better of him here. He wasn't lying when he was stating his intentions of treating Daniel with love. It's simply that, as so many others in Daniel's life have done as well, it only takes one time in which a person does not let love prevail for terrible consequences to happen. It wasn't a horror show all the time simply because this happened. It doesn't excuse it and it doesn't heal the hurts. It illustrates the absolute dire need to never stop choosing love because it only takes one act of selfishness to utterly hurt someone. Especially since it is often not the most powerful that pay for these fights. Terry wasn't primarily trying to get at Daniel. He simply let his anger at the whole situation override the good in him. Not once, but twice. Because it felt good in the moment. Because he felt that he could. It how he has been settling all disputes before - with glee and violence. Terry's never had to find another way to solve anything in his life. That is of course always terrible - his victims all had loved ones. It's just that now, there is no looking away from it. And it's not Terry paying. Not really. It's Daniel.

[ducktales-wco-oo]

(Gotta sleep Really soon but now I’m just thinking about Louie and All the times he was shown to have problems with/because-of the adventures and near-death experiences and just... do you KNOW how many times He specifically almost died? ‘Cause it’s a lot. The boi has voiced his struggles/objections, has mentioned therapy— you can bet he heard about it from Donald and was already aware of it even though Dewey wasn’t —has referenced the different dangers they’ve been in Many times to outside people kinda like a subconscious cry for help...)

(Remember the Doofus b-day episode where he mentioned the killer robots (or something of the sort) and then said ‘too many’ as his voice got quiet/serious and he got a far-off look on his face like he was remembering/reliving something?)

( .... ‘CAuse I DO)

[cades-outsider]

Older Daniel LaRusso X Reader

Warnings: *Cough CHEATING cough* This was requested from wattpad!

The past is Present

  Before you moved you and Daniel had the toughest relationship, first you grew as friends, then best friends, then lovers..... it was hard for you moving away from someone you loved and trusted.

  Daniel took it hard too, if not harder. He feel in deep, from the moment he saw you he fell deeply in love. He knew he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life.... but things don't always go the way you want them to.

After you moved Daniel stayed in his room more, didn't associate with anyone at school, barley talked to his mom, and even quit karate.

It had been more than 20 years before you came back. You bought an apartment close by to a job you had recently applied for. The pay was excellent and you wanted to move, at least closer to home.

Even after 20 years you still missed home, you never forgot about Daniel. In fact you only had few relations and they never lasted long. You were still caught up on Daniel, and you always would be.

You didn't know how he was doing, if he had a wife, or family but you knew he was doing good. He started his own car company which you were proud of.

You knew that Daniel had been into fixing cars ever since you met him and Mr. Miyagi. You had also learned some karate, Mr. Miyagi taught you karate as well plus you watched and studied him teaching Daniel so you knew the moves.

  One thing you were looking for but not, you needed a new car. The only one who you really trusted with vehicles was Daniel. But you were scare that he would not know you or if he had a family. Not that you would mind but it would be weird for you.

  With a sigh you look up to see the LaRusso sign on the building. You knew there was another auto park, which was Cole something but you wouldn't dare trust someone you didn't know with your cars.

  Taking a deep breath you put your hand on the door, pausing for a second before entering. The room smelt like fresh cars and almost lemon cleaning supplies.

  A man that you recognize comes walking towards you or was Daniels cousin Louie. He stops for a second in shock, while you stand there bashfully.

  "Hey Louie" you say stuffing your hands in your pockets.

  "Y/n?" He questions.

  You nod your head "it's me" you chuckle at his shocked expression.

  He rushes towards you and pulls you into a tight hug, you hadn't remembered the last time Louie was like this. He always acted tough and playful towards everyone.

"It's nice to see you to" you joke at his antics.

  He pulls away "we've missed you, you should have seen how broken Daniel was when you moved he-" Louie confesses before someone interrupts him.

  "Louie what's taking so long?" You knew that voice, it was Daniel.

  You hadn't known what you were going to do when you saw him, you had no plan you simply just had to go with the flow.

  Louie moves out the way to reveal yourself, it seems like everything stops for Daniel as he sees his first love, that he never did get over and never will.

  "Y/n...." He says as his heart skips a beat.

  "Hi Daniel" you say bashfully feeling your cheeks heat up.

The stunned expression stays on his face as he walks up to you completely, "it’s been a while" you comment.

"It’s been to long...." Daniel states as Louie awkwardly walks away.

"So I came to buy a car" You start "- and see how you were" You finish.

"Oh- um of course!-" He claps his hands together before leading you over to some style cars he knew you’d like.

"So we here we have a Honda Accord with a 192-hp turbocharge, in both black, white, and red" he says pointing to the row of Honda’s.

"I like the white one" You comment as you study the out side of it.

"We’ll do you want to test drive it? I have time" Daniel asks as he holds up the keys in hand.

"That would be great Daniel" You smile.

"Okay great" He smiles as his do brown eyes pierce through yours.

Daniel hands you the keys and as he does so your hands touch, that same spark that was there at each touch once there again.

This causes you both to make eye contact before you clear your throat awkwardly "I think to drive a car we need to get in it" You joke, just like old times.

Daniel smiles and nods his head as he gets into the passengers side while you get in the drivers side, starting up the car.

You pull out of driveway and into the highway, it was silent at first the car drove good. But if you were totally honest you weren’t really paying attention to how smooth or good the car drove.

All you could feel and think about was Daniel gazing at you, of course you could see him out of your peripheral vision and you could feel the heat of his familiar stare.

"So... any family?" You asked as you take a right turn.

"Oh um- yeah actually I have a... wife Amanda, and a daughter Sam, and then there’s Anthony my son" Daniel comments, feeling something he’s never felt before.

"lucky girl" You say keeping your eyes on the road.

You didn’t know how to feel hearing about his family, you knew if he did it would hit hard. As it did, but you mostly felt happy for him. He got a life he always wanted.

Daniel couldn’t help but look at you, it felt all to soon. Of course he loved Amanda but he never stopped thinking about or loving you.

The love you had was just rare, "and what about you? Any lucky guy?" He asks trying to keep the conversation going.

You shake your head "none that were right for me" You say stoping at a red light, finally look at Daniel.

"He would’ve been a lucky guy" He comments randomly.

It was like there was a pull so strong that neither you nor Daniel could control. It was like someone was pushing you both together, until your lips met.

The kiss, his kiss was everything you remembered it was. It was filled with love, passion, and trust. Though it has been more than twenty years, you never forget your first love sometimes you never get over them.

You both pull away, breathless as Daniel leans his head on yours lovingly.

"I’ll take the car"

_______________________________________________

Requests open anytime!

[stargaze-sunflower]

I really loved Dewey and Louie together in the finale, so I wrote something that could’ve happened off-screen :] 

Louie has a bit of a panic attack here, so be aware of that. Also there are spoilers for The Last Adventure.

Ao3 Link

.

The series finale of Ottoman Empire was not more important than finding FOWL, or dealing with Webby’s clones, or making sure that his family was going to be safe, but it was a lot easier and less stressful of a thing to focus on. There were too many angles for this one, and they were bouncing around his brain like the ball in a pinball machine, giving him a headache and keeping him in a constant state of heightened anxiety. He was overwhelmed, simply put, and all he wanted was to settle down and watch his favorite show.

Dewey was there, and that helped, even though his brother was more keen on adventuring than Louie was. Dewey was there, and he stayed, even when it became obvious that Webby was up to something, even though he had to be curious about the mysteries that were currently unfolding in the mansion. Dewey stayed and watched his show with him, and got emotionally invested right along with him, and that meant the world to Louie, even if he didn’t say it out loud.

And then Huey had barged in, out of breath and ranting about evil clones, and Louie just spared a moment to thank the universe for letting him at least finish his show first.

Webby had overheard, and she’d been understandably upset, but it still hurt to know that she was angry with them. She’d mentioned how they should understand wanting to know more about their family, and finding long lost members of it, and man, he did, but it wasn’t that simple. Della returning hadn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. It hadn't been an evil-clones-stealing-powerful-artifacts situation, but it hadn’t exactly been easy, either. Webby knew that. Webby was ignoring that. Webby was just thrilled to have sisters.

It made him feel a little more isolated, since apparently he really was the only one who seemed to have trouble accepting new family members. Huey and Dewey had accepted Della, and now Webby was welcoming her genetic twins with open arms and a bleeding heart. It brought up the memories of how alone he’d felt, back when everyone was excited for Della to be home and he couldn’t seem to get a grip and just be happy like everyone else was. He had been to only one to hesitate.

It struck him then that Webby was going through the same thing, but in reverse. No one else was ready to accept the clones as her family, and no one shared her opinion, and so Webby was alone in her feelings, just as Louie had been.

After Webby left the room, Louie and his brothers sat in silence for a minute or two, the ending credits of Ottoman Empire playing quietly in the background.

Eventually, Huey sighed and stood up, twisting his hat anxiously in his hands.

“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Huey said, worry in his voice. “I don’t— I didn’t mean to make her upset.”

“We know,” Louie said gently, and Huey quirked a thankful half-smile in his direction.

“I’ll be right back,” Huey said, and then he left.

Louie and Dewey shared a weighted, concerned look, because sometimes it felt like their family was falling apart, and it reminded them that it had happened before. They’d grown up on a houseboat with only each other and Uncle Donald to call family, and that was because adventure had torn Scrooge and Della and Donald apart. Sometimes, in his darkest moments, Louie felt like the same could happen to them at any time. Usually, though, he had faith that his relationship with his brothers was stronger than that. Or at least, he had hope.

Louie sighed quietly, and then he noticed something out of the corner of his eye – something that he wasn’t expecting – and he blinked in surprise.

Huey had left his JWG behind. He never left that book behind. He slept with the thing, for crying out loud; he kept it on the bathroom sink when he showered. Huey must’ve been really out of it and distracted, to have forgotten it like this. It made Louie’s chest tighten, for some unexplainable reason; it made him worry.

Louie turned to Dewey with the book in his hand, and Dewey’s brow furrowed slightly when he saw it, even as he huffed a laugh.

“Guess we finally know what gets Huey to leave it behind,” Dewey said, amusement not quite managing to conceal the undertone of concern.

“I guess so,” Louie replied, and he stared down at the book in his hands for a few long seconds. “Should we…Should we take it to him? We should, right?”

Dewey shrugged, seemingly nonchalant, and stood up too quickly to be casual.

“Yeah, probably,” he said. “I want to check on Webby anyways.”

“Yeah,” Louie repeated, seeing the half-truth for what it was, and they left the room to go find them.

They looked in a few different places in the mansion, lightly teasing each other the whole time, trying to ignore the faint dread rising within them. And it wasn’t too hard, but then they walked into Webby’s room – destroyed, messy, signs of struggle, open window, escape route – and everything came crashing over them. They stood with wide eyes, unmoving in the doorway, almost afraid to go farther in. The JWG in the pocket of his hoodie suddenly felt heavier.

Webby was gone.

Webby was gone, and Huey was gone, and no one had been here to stop FOWL from taking them. No one had even noticed yet. Although maybe it had just happened? But that was almost worse, because it meant that they had been just barely too late to help. And where was everyone else? What if they’d all been taken, too? What if it was just him and Dewey left all alone just because Louie had wanted to watch Ottoman Empire?

Realizing that he was spiraling at an alarming rate, he shook his head and braced himself with a hand on the doorknob.

“They’re gone,” Louie heard himself say, and he shook his head again, trying to dislodge his own heartbeat from the inside of his ears.

“It—They can’t have been gone for long?” Dewey said, sounding baffled and scared. “We just saw Huey. We just— He—"

Louie backed slowly out of the room, feeling like every second that he looked at it was making him panic more and more.

“I’ve gotta— I’m gonna go look for the others,” Louie told Dewey, and his brother gave him a single nod and a quick pat on the shoulder.

“I’ll look for clues here,” Dewey said, voice shaking a little, and Louie turned to race down the hallway, heart pounding and breaths coming unevenly.

He burst into room after room, and when he finally found someone, he almost missed it.

Scrooge was lying unconscious on the floor, and Louie couldn’t breathe – he could hardly think. There was something extremely terrifying about the great Scrooge McDuck knocked out and curled up on the ground. It finally made things feel real, and scary, and impossibly big and loud. Webby was missing, his big brother was missing, and his Uncle had been bested.

Louie tried for several minutes to wake Scrooge, his voice getting shakier and shakier with each plea. His hands were trembling as he reached out to shake his Uncle’s shoulder, just like he used to do to Uncle Donald when he was little and had a nightmare and he was asking to sleep in his uncle’s bed—

Louie was crying, he realized, and he was hyperventilating, and he slid down into a hunched position on the floor and tried to get ahold of himself. His hands were shaking violently, and every now and then a full body shudder would travel from his aching, heaving chest throughout the rest of him. His lungs hurt, and he felt like he was getting too much oxygen and not enough at the same time, and he just wanted everything to be okay. Why was everything always going wrong?

He shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, hoping to stifle their shaking, but he was met with the hard surface of Huey’s JWG. He pulled it out of his pocket almost desperately, and a new wave of tears poured out of his eyes and as soon as he laid eyes on it. His vision blurred, and Louie curled up further, his knees almost to his forehead and the JWG clutched tightly to his chest. He was so, so tired of the world falling apart. And he wished his family didn’t have to always be at the center of it.

The already open door to the room Louie was in banged against the wall suddenly, and he jumped almost a foot in the air, his head snapping up to meet Dewey’s bewildered gaze as his brother entered the room.

“Louie? What’s—” Dewey’s worried voice cut off as his eyes landed on the unconscious form of Scrooge. “Oh.”

Louie frantically wiped at his face with one hand, still holding the book tightly in the other. Dewey came closer, his eyes bouncing between him and Scrooge.

“Is he— Will he wake up?” Dewey asked, and Louie shrugged, his breath hitching as he tried desperately to blink tears from his eyes.

“I don’t— I tried but— but he won’t— He—” Louie cut himself off with a gasping breath, hyperaware of the oxygen flowing haltingly in and out of his lungs.

“Hey, it’s okay, Louie. It’s fine.” Dewey was kneeling in front of him suddenly, grabbing one of his hands in a gentle hold, looking at him with eyes that were worried, but reassuring. “We’ll be okay.”

“How can you say that?” Louie asked quietly, breaking eye contact to stare at the JWG in his lap. “Webby and Huey are missing, and Uncle Scrooge is unconscious, and— and Uncle Donald is going to leave and he might have left already—”

“And none of that is forever,” Dewey interrupted, with his trademark determination and optimism. “We’re going to get Webby and Huey back, and Uncle Scrooge will wake up, and you know that Uncle Donald would never leave when we need him. If he’s left already, he’ll be coming right back the second he hears what happened.”

Louie leaned his head tiredly against Dewey’s, sighing deeply and nodding, his breaths finally slowing down and evening out a little.

“And you’ve still got me,” Dewey added, smiling a bit. “For whatever that’s worth.”

“It’s worth a lot,” Louie said, nudging his brother in the side. “And you’ve got me, too. We’ve got each other.”

“Yeah,” Dewey agreed, and they both looked down at the JWG sitting innocently in Louie’s lap, unaware that it’s owner was in the hands of the enemy.

“He said he’d be right back,” Louie said quietly, feeling small and young, and Dewey squeezed the hand that he was still holding lightly.

“And we’re gonna hold him to it,” Dewey said, though his voice trembled. “He just might need some help, this time.”

“Well, he’s always helping us,” Louie said, newfound purpose growing into tentative confidence. “It’s about time we return the favor.”

Dewey grinned at him, a little shaky around the edges but otherwise unbreakable, and Louie couldn’t help but smile back, even though it was with less enthusiasm.

“Ducks don’t back down,” Dewey said, and Louie huffed a short laugh, which made Dewey smile wider.

Usually, Huey helped Louie when he panicked like this, but it turned out that Dewey wasn’t half bad at it, either. Maybe it was a triplet thing, or maybe he just loved and trusted his brothers enough that they knew him like the back of their hand. Either way, Louie was incredibly thankful, and he felt extremely lucky to have them, and deeply happy that they loved and trusted him in return.

“Ducks don’t back down,” Louie repeated, and he gave the JWG one last look before sliding it back into his hoodie pocket.

Next to them, Scrooge made a muffled groggy sound of pain, and Louie and Dewey shared a determined look.

“Let’s go find the others,” Louie said, new hope in his voice as he stood and helped Dewey to his feet. “We’re gonna get our siblings back.”

And Dewey could hardly disagree with that.

[lilothrowbacks]

Louis Tomlinson went on a Twitter reply stream on Monday (if you saw any of The Honey POP fam trying to get noticed… no you didn’t bestie), and amongst talk of his wisdom teeth, napping, and his nan, his answer to one question, in particular, left our brains melting. HE HASN’T WRITTEN HIS BEST SONG YET! Louis Tomlinson’s songwriting is supreme, but watch this space, the best is yet to come…

Yes, according to our Donny King, when asked what the best song he has written in his lifetime is, Louis answered “Haven’t written it yet”. Considering the quality of music Louis has already put out to brighten our world, plus the other songs that never made it to Walls (he wrote over 100 songs!), we’re not sure how we’ll survive when he does write it!

Contenders For The Title

Louis may not think he has written his best song yet, but we’re pretty sure there are some strong contenders for the title! Here is our ranking of the 6 best songs Louis Tomlinson has ever written! We had to stop ourselves from doing 28… what can we say? We’re simps.

6. ‘Don’t Let It Break Your Heart’

Louis shared that this is one of the songs he is really proud of, for its lyrics and music. During his exclusive chat with LA On Air for 96.5 TDY last year, Lou said while chatting about ‘DLIBYH’: “… across the whole song, that’s something I’m proud of musically in particular. The lyrics are really strong, I mean, that’s always me thing anyway, but I’m really happy with the music…” You’re right Louis, the lyrics really are your thing. Talking about the inspiration for the song, Lou explained “It’s about trying to find hope wherever you can”, and for so many of us, we found hope in that song, and of course, just in Louis. Life really does get hard and get messed up, but for many of us Louie’s, this song makes us feel stronger.

It is beautiful, hopeful, and honest lyricism, and that’s why ‘DLIBYH’ has to be in THP HQ’s list of Louis’ best songwriting! 

5. ‘Two Of Us’

I mean, it’s pretty obvious. Do we even need to explain this one? ‘Two Of Us’ is one of the most moving, raw, and emotional songs we have ever heard. In honor and loving memory of Louis’ beautiful Mum Jay, this song and its lyrics feel like seeing into Louis’ heart, and Louis’ ability to do that through music, is unprecedented in our opinion. It has such vulnerable strength and honesty, and Lou’s songwriting here, allowed him to vocalize his pain, but also, it allowed us as fans to mourn in our own way too, and this is a truly special gift that Louis gave to the world. He promised her he’d do this, so all of this is all for Jay; and as fans, we will never forget that. Sleep tight Johannah.

Of course, we had to put ‘Two Of Us’ on our list of times that Louis Tomlinson has absolutely floored us with his songwriting talent.

4. ‘Home’

We can’t even verbalise to you, how much we struggled to pick which One Direction song to include here… he wrote so many! We went back and forth on 9 different songs, because as Louis Tomlinson said on Twitter in 2018, “if it’s by One Direction and it’s a banger I probably wrote on it”. In the end, our hearts belong to ‘Home’, because, putting it bluntly, it is the epitome of how we feel about 1D – they made it feel like home. ‘Home’ is a firm fan favorite because it connected with so many of us in so many ways. That was evident when the song won a Teen Choice Award in 2016, despite never being a single! Fans further celebrated the song, through a month-long fan project in 2016, which led to the song being added to 1D’s official Spotify playlist a month later!

Any song that can connect with us to that level, and make us feel so deeply that we still cry about it after 5+ years, absolutely demands a spot on our list of the best songs Louis has written.

3. ‘Only The Brave’

Say it with us: “It should have been longer!” The closing track of Louis’ debut album, is in our opinion, an absolute lyrical masterpiece. “It’s a church of burnt romances and I’m too far gone to pray”…. Excuse me? Too many feelings. Nobody touch us. What an exquisite visual? Louis Tomlinson doesn’t just write songs, he is a storyteller. We will never understand how Louis managed to pack so much emotion, truth, and vulnerability, into a song of only 1 minute and 44 seconds; but we’ll also never stop thanking him for it. ‘Only The Brave’ has made such a giant footprint in this fandom, with a special mention going to so many LGBTQIA+ Louie’s (this writer included), for the comfort so many of us have found in this song. So many fans feel seen through this song regardless of the meaning or intention, because the honesty of an incredible song, is that people can take what they need from it. That, in our opinion, is Louis’ specialty, and it’s just really bloody important to us!

‘Only the Brave’ felt like a gift to fans, and its lyrics paint such vivid colors and visuals for so many fans. Of course, it’s on our list!

2. ‘Copy of a Copy of a Copy’

‘COACOAC’ is special. Yes, it’s the newest song we’ve heard, but we think it’s one of the best too! Once again, this song paints a picture so beautifully. In fact, we think if we gave Louie’s a canvas and a paintbrush, we could all draw what ‘COACOAC’ looks like!  Debuted during Louis’ live stream concert in December 2020 (which we still haven’t recovered from by the way), this song casts shadows and shines light. “I can hear you, howling ’til your lungs hurt, so let this be your comfort, you’re not the only one.” It’s dark, yet hopeful, and experienced yet vulnerable. We think it’s one of the most thought-provoking songs Louis has shared with us, and in seconds, it became a fan favorite. ‘COACOAC’ is a testament to Louis’ insightful songwriting, and stylistically, its alternative vibe makes us weak with anticipation for the future of Louis’ journey with song-writing. We at THP HQ, can’t wait to scream it with you all at a Louis concert, once life makes sense again.

‘COACOAC’ has cemented its place as one of Louis Tomlinson’s best songwriting masterpieces; and has launched itself to number 2 on our list!

1. ‘Defenceless’  

Oh, ‘Defenceless’, what can we say about you? You’re our number one. There is one lyric in particular, that just cannot be competed with, and which has confirmed ‘Defenceless’ as our pick for the best song Louis has ever written. “We’re sleeping on our problems like we’ll solve them in our dreams. Wake up early morning and they’re still under the sheets”. Like, seriously? Come on, that isn’t just songwriting, that is poetry, it’s art. We dare to say, it may be one of the best lyrics in music. Ever. The brainpower of this man! ‘Defenceless’ stole the hearts and minds of Louie’s across the world, as it should. The ‘Defenceless’ project, which started online in February 2021, confirmed the magnitude of this song. It brought fans together from across the globe (much like the ‘No Control’ Project back in 2015). We saw #LouiesOnOmegle spread the word of this monumental song to strangers, and Louie’s storm global radio stations to play the track. Not only is ‘Defenceless’ lyrically, melodically, and sonically world-class, but the way it united fans; was magnificent.

This song affirms Louis Tomlinson, as one of the best songwriters of a generation, and it’s going smack-bang at the top of our list, of the best songs Louis has ever written.

25.3.2021

[animationnut]

Feelings In Free Fall

Rating: K+ Summary: After the terrifying ordeal that was fighting F.O.W.L., tumbling through the air with no parachutes was far from the worst thing to happen to the McDuck clan that day. After all, what's better than hugs in free fall? 

Spoilers for The Last Adventure!

...

The bright blue sky and fluffy white clouds would have been peaceful if Huey wasn’t currently free-falling through the picturesque scenery.

The wind slapped at him from all sides. Huey kept his eyes firmly closed, pretending he was at the harbour or the beach and not plummeting to his death from tens of thousands of feet in the air. He tucked his legs against his body to prevent himself from tumbling in all directions.

“I’m going to be okay, I’m going to be okay,” he chanted. “We just survived the insane Bradford Buzzard. We’re not going to die because Launchpad accidentally hit a button. Fate is not that cruel.”

Something solid stuck him and Huey’s eyes flew open. He yelped as Louie frantically clung to him, his movements causing them to spin. “Louie!”

He grabbed hold of his brother’s wings and adjusted his body into a horizontal position. Louie copied his movements so that they were directly across from each other as they fell through the sky. “We need to get a cover for that button,” said Louie flatly.

“Don’t think it would help much. Launchpad will still find a way to crash the plane.”

“Yeah, but at least we’d be inside when it happens.”

“That would be preferable,” admitted Huey.

Louie arched a brow at the steady stare Huey aimed at his face. “Do I have something on my beak?”

“What? No.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“If I look down, I’m going to freak out,” said Huey, more calmly than he felt.

“Ah. Gotcha.”

“Hey, guys! Check this out!”

Louie glanced down, rolling his eyes at the sight of Dewey moonwalking through the air, moving his hips and arms to a rhythm only he could hear. “Show-off.”

Curious, Huey snapped his gaze down just long enough to catch Dewey’s dance routine before returning his eyes back to Louie’s face. “It’s kinda impressive.”

“I thought you were too scared to look down!”

“I am! But I only looked at Dewey, not what was under him.”

Louie was baffled. “How do you even do that?”

Dewey spun in a circle and flattened himself out, sailing up to join his brothers. Louie and Huey each grabbed one of his wings so that they were free-falling in a circle. “Pretty cool, right?” said Dewey cheerfully.

Huey could not help but smile. “It was very smooth.”

“You guys should try and do some tricks!”

“No way,” said Louie with a strong shake of his head.

“Yeah, I’m good,” said Huey feelingly.

Dewey regarded his brothers, his expression softening. “I’m really, really glad nothing bad happened to you, Huey,” he whispered. “We freaked when we saw you left your Junior Woodchuck Guidebook behind.”

“I’m glad nothing happened to you guys, either,” returned Huey. “I was really happy to see you.”

Louie grinned. “We could tell by how you nearly strangled us with your hug.”

Dewey lightly jostled Louie in the side. “You were great, by the way. That pep talk on the plane was something I needed. Thank you.”

“I knew the Dewey in you was there. You just had to stop trying to be Mom, Uncle Scrooge and Uncle Donald in order to find it. That plane flying of yours is seriously amazing and it’s all you.”

Dewey beamed. “Thanks! I am pretty awesome, aren’t I?”

“So humble, too,” said Huey sarcastically and Louie snickered.

“Heads up!”

The shout caused Huey, Dewey and Louie to look up in time to see Webby was hurtling towards them. Louie and Huey hastily let go and created a space for her to drop through. Before she went out of their reach, they snagged her by the wings, pulling her up to join their circle.

“Hi!” she chirped. “Isn’t this so cool?”

“I did a moonwalk over the clouds!” said Dewey excitedly. “Did you see?”

“I did! It was amazing!”

“Ha! See?” Dewey grinned smugly at his brothers. “Told you I’m awesome.”

“It’s a good thing you don’t wear hats,” said Louie. “That big head of yours wouldn’t fit into any of them.”

Huey studied Webby closely. There was a bright light in her eyes and she didn’t seem to be too fazed by the events of the day. “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly, wanting to be sure she was all right.

“I’m fine,” she answered with a nod. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re good.” Dewey nibbled on his bottom beak. “Seriously, Webby, about the whole…clone thing. You’re not upset?”

“I was, at first,” admitted Webby. “But I think I was mostly angry. Angry that I was lied to by Granny. That I wasn’t who I thought I was. But I was wrong. It doesn’t matter who made me. It doesn’t matter that I was made and not born. I am the girl I’ve always been. Nothing changes that.

“And…well, I thought I lost my parents a long time ago. Now I have a dad!” Her delight was short-lived as she considered, for the first time, that this might not be something the triplets would be particularly happy with. “Does…does that bother you?” she asked in a small voice. “That I’m his daughter, and that I’m the one who found the Papyrus?”

“No,” Dewey said fiercely. “Not at all.”

“We think it’s so great that Uncle Scrooge is your dad,” said Huey sincerely.

“You were family before we knew about your past,” said Louie. “Why would that change now?”

Webby beamed. “I love you guys.”

“We love you too,” the triplets chorused.

“Hold that form, lads and lass!”

The kids glanced up to see Scrooge careening towards them, a wide grin on his beak. He did not show any signs of diverting from his path and Huey asked nervously, “Uhhhh what is he doing?”

For a moment it seemed like Scrooge would crash right into them. The shriek formed in Huey’s throat but before it could be released his great-uncle soared neatly through the middle of their circle. He somersaulted in place three times before angling his body so that the air carried him back to the kids.

Webby and Louie parted to make room and Scrooge joined the little formation they had created. He gripped Webby and Louie’s wings tightly, his eyes glinting with delight. “Ah knew Ah should have made ye kids wear those life vests.”

“Uncle Scrooge, even if there was water below us, a life vest would be useless given the speed with which we’re falling,” said Huey.

“It’s a joke, goof,” said Louie with a roll of his eyes.

“I know, but I feel we’re having too much fun given our life-threatening situation.”

“That’s never stopped us before,” countered Dewey. “At least this life-threatening situation isn’t, like, dark and dire.”

“We’ll be fine, lad,” said Scrooge, giving Huey a reassuring smile. “Fenton will nae let us plummet tae our deaths.”

“But Mom and Uncle Donald will,” said Louie with a straight face. “Totally don’t blame them.”

“Ye know what Ah mean,” said Scrooge with a slight smirk. His humour faded slightly and he regarded them all seriously. “What happened today was nae like anythin’ we ever faced before. If ye need tae talk, ye know Ah’m—”

“We know,” said Louie, giving Scrooge’s wing a tender squeeze. “We can always talk to you, Mom and Uncle Donald.”

“We already checked in with each other,” spoke Dewey. “We’re fine, Uncle Scrooge. What happened today was hard and terrifying, but we got through it, because we were fighting for each other.”

“Family sees us through, always,” said Webby earnestly.

“Aye, that it does,” said Scrooge with deep fondness. He surveyed the children that had changed his life so completely, an intense love burning bright in his heart. “Ah love ye kids. Always.”

“And we’ll always love you,” said Dewey with devotion, and Huey, Louie and Webby chimed in with their affirmations.

Though a warm fuzziness filled Huey’s chest, the anxiety still tingled, not letting him forget about their current predicament. “I hate to have another cute family moment interrupted, but we really should start making our way to the others.”

Dewey and Louie shared a mischievous glance. “All right, all right,” said Louie casually. “You want a boost?”

Huey blinked. “A boost? What does that—?”

Louie let go of Scrooge’s wing and Dewey pulled on Huey’s arm, yanking him from Webby’s hold. Ignoring Huey’s protests, Dewey and Louie each took one of his wings and used all their strength to send Huey hurtling downwards, where the others were scattered at various altitudes in their own free falls.

The sky flipped in all directions, just like Huey’s stomach, as he spun out of control through the air. Huey screamed with panic as he flailed, trying to put his body back into a stable position and failing.

“I haaaaaate you guuuuuuuuuys!” he wailed, even though he was sure his brothers couldn’t hear him any longer.

Alerted by the screams, B.O.Y.D. looked up to see Huey twisting towards him. He reached out and tried to grab his best friend, but missed the fabric of his red shirt by inches. Huey pitched below them and B.O.Y.D. cried out, “Huey!”

Gyro activated the communication function of Lil Bulb, connecting him to Gizmoduck’s helmet. “You’ve got Hat Nephew incoming,” he said.

Fenton snapped his gaze up. He could hear Huey’s screams but couldn’t see the boy. He was about to ask Gyro if Huey was still in his sight when the red-clad duckling plummeted through a cloud just above their heads.

Fenton jerked backwards, tilting his head as far back as possible so that Huey wouldn’t get hurt on his propeller. Gandra extended her wings and there was an oof from both her and Huey as she caught him.

“We’ve got him,” Fenton reported to Gyro.

Huey clung to Gandra, his stomach still twisting and turning despite the fact was he no longer moving. His heart raced in his chest and his breaths shuddered out of him. Gandra tightened her grip and said soothingly, “You’re okay, Huey. We’ve got you.”

“What happened?” asked Fenton in concern.

“My…brothers…are…jerks,” he wheezed.

“Siblings can be like that,” said Gandra in amusement.

Huey caught his breath and the roaring in his ears died down. He properly processed his surroundings, finding himself pressed against Gandra’s chest with his head tucked against her chin. She was in Fenton’s arms, cradled securely against the chest piece of the Gizmoduck armour.

Huey’s cheeks burned red. “I ruined a sweet moment, didn’t I? I am so sorry.”

“You did,” said Gandra with a teasing lilt.

“But now we’re having a new moment,” said Fenton cheerfully, briefly raising one armour-covered wing to stroke Huey’s feathers.

“Ugh, gross,” said Gandra, pulling a face, but a smile broke through when Huey wound his wings around her neck.

Up above, the cackling of Louie and Dewey was promptly cut off by a firm grip falling on their ears. “Ow,” whined Dewey. “Uncle Scrooge!”

“Ye know your brother does nae like tae be surprised like that,” he said sharply.

“That was mean,” chided Webby, crossing her wings over her chest.

Louie’s phone trilled in his pocket and, bewildered, he pulled it out. “Uncle Donald?” he said in confusion.

Scrooge let go of their ears and said knowingly, “Answer it.”

Louie tapped the screen and brought his phone to his newly-freed ear. “Uh…hello?”

“Where’s Huey?” barked Donald. “What happened?”

Eyes wide, Louie darted his gaze left, right and center. But Donald was nowhere in sight and he said in disbelief, “Wait, where are you? Did Huey fly by you?”

“He’s not with you?!”

“How did you even know?” cried Louie.

“It’s that sixth sense he’s got,” grumbled Dewey. “He always knows when we’re up to something.”

Scrooge nicked the phone and said smoothly, “The boys thought it would be funny tae throw Huey through the air. He’s fine, Ah saw Fenton catch him. Hmm? Yes, one moment.”

Scrooge returned the phone to Louie and, knowing what was coming next, he muttered, “Thanks a lot, Uncle Scrooge.”

“Yeah, thanks,” said Dewey with a pout.

“Ah trust ye two will be able tae find your way tae the others,” said Scrooge pointedly. “Come along, Webby Darlin’.”

Webby happily linked up with Scrooge and together they soared downwards. Louie winced and put his phone on speaker. Donald’s voice, already in mid-rant, erupted through the air.

“—and this is not the time to be goofing around or flinging your brother through the sky! When we get down to the ground you are going to apologize! Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Uncle Donald,” Louie and Dewey mumbled.

“And we want some sincerity when you apologize,” chimed in Della sternly. “You know your brother has anxiety. There’s a line, boys, and chucking your brother through the open sky by himself while we’re in free fall definitely crosses it.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Do we need to come and get you?” asked Donald warningly.

“No!” said Dewey quickly. “No, we’re on our way down.”

“Don’t dawdle!”

The line went silent as Donald hung up. Louie sighed and stuck his phone back in his pocket. “You know the thing about having a big family? A lot of parental figures.”

“Isn’t it great?” said Dewey happily.

Louie snorted. “Yeah, when I’m not in trouble.”

He performed a spin before angling his body directly downwards. He went gliding away and Dewey stayed in place, the wind whipping past him. He spread his wings and fell backwards, his gaze trained on the bright blue expanse above him.

A few years ago, Donald freaked if they went onto their docked houseboat without their life vests. Now here they were, free-falling thousands of feet through the sky, and his uncle wasn’t tearing his feathers out trying to get to them. He trusted them to make their way to safety without his help.

But the protectiveness had been in Donald’s voice, just as strong as ever. Dewey knew, even if his uncle had learned to let go, he would always be there.

The thought of Donald and his near-death experience caused tears to spring to Dewey’s eyes. He swiped them away and refused to dwell on the memory that had nearly broken his heart. His uncle was safe. His family was safe.

The family that risked life and limb to save each other. A family that was much bigger than Dewey ever imagined it would be. A family he loved with his whole being.

Dewey flipped over and soared downwards. He spotted B.O.Y.D. holding Gyro by the back of his vest, his rocket feet propelling them through the sky and keeping them out of gravity’s mercy. In Gyro’s arms were Lil Bulb and Louie.

“The extra load isn’t too much for you, is it?” Dewey asked when he came within earshot.

“Not at all!” said B.O.Y.D. brightly. “Dr. Gearloose is quite light.”

“I wasn’t talking about Gyro,” said Dewey with a snicker.

Louie glared up at him. “Shut up.”

“I’m sorry, the Gyro Express is closed,” said Gyro flatly.

“Don’t listen to him,” dismissed Louie. “He told me the same thing.”

Gyro narrowed his eyes. “I can still drop you, Green Nephew.”

Louie groaned. “Come on, man. How long are you going to pretend you don’t know our names?”

“I don’t,” said Gyro with a sniff. “I haven’t gotten around to it. I’m a busy scientist. I don’t have time to learn the names of snot-nosed brats.”

“You can ride with me if you want,” offered B.O.Y.D.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m gonna go find Launchpad.” He extended a fist and said warmly, “Thank you, B.O.Y.D. You put yourself in a lot of danger to save my brother. That means a lot to me.”

“To us,” corrected Louie seriously.

“I’d do anything for Huey,” said B.O.Y.D. passionately. “I’d do anything for any of you.”

They exchanged a fist-bump and Dewey grabbed hold of Louie’s cheeks, squishing them together. “I love you, little bro.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying,” whined Louie. He reached up and wrapped his wing around Dewey’s neck, pulling him as close as he could for a hug. “But despite that, I love you too.”

Gyro gave a yelp of surprise when Dewey hugged him next. Squeezing tight, Dewey whispered, “You saved Uncle Donald’s life. I can’t repay you for that, because it means absolutely everything to me, but I’ll try.”

“Yeah,” said Louie softly, resting his head against Gyro’s chest. “We owe you.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Gyro gruffly, lightly setting his wing against the top of Dewey’s head. “You don’t owe me anything. It’s, uh, what family does. The whole saving each other thing.”

“He said it!” crowed Louie, gripping the front of Gyro’s shirt and shaking him. “He said we’re family!”

Gyro’s teeth rattled from the rough motion. “Knock it off! I mean it, I will drop you. Louie!”

“Ha! You do know our names!”

Dewey laughed as Gyro spluttered angrily. He continued his descent and it was barely a few minutes of falling later when he came upon Fenton, Gandra and Huey. “Eyyyy! How was your trip, Huey?”

“Terrifying!” snapped Huey, straining to smack at his brother.

“Listen, Uncle Donald told us to apologize, but he said to do it when we’re on the ground and we’re not on the ground yet, soooooo…”

“You are the worst.”

“You’re confusing me with Louie,” said Dewey jokingly.

“This isn’t the time to play around,” scolded Fenton lightly. “Hop on.”

“Thanks, but I’m on my way to Launchpad. Just wanted to stop by and give my big bro some love.” He rested his forehead against Huey’s and said affectionately, “I love you.”

His ire melting, Huey wrapped his wings around his brother. “I love you too. Even when you tap dance at three in the morning.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” said Fenton warmly.

Gandra furrowed her brow. “You tap dance at three in the morning?”

“Sometimes I get restless,” said Dewey simply. “I like to dance it off.”

“But why tap dancing specifically?”

“It calms me down.”

“Er…okay.”

Dewey regarded her, the way her arms were wrapped securely around Huey and how his brother was nestled comfortably against her. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “For helping out my family today. This is, like, a weird way to officially meet, but I can’t wait to get to know you better. From everything Huey’s said about you, you’re awesome.”

“He talks about me?” said Gandra, touched.

“All the time.”

“Not all the time,” said Huey quickly. “A reasonable amount of time.”

“I’m flattered, Red.” Gandra playfully pinched his cheek. She smiled at the boy in blue and said, “Thanks, Dewey. I’m looking forward to getting to know you, too. I’ve never really found a place where I fit in before. I think your family might be what I’ve always been looking for.”

“It is,” said Dewey confidently. “Right, Fenton?”

“Absolutely,” said Fenton with a nod. “I…I didn’t think I had what it took to be a hero. But Launchpad, Mr. McDuck, you guys and everyone else showed me I was wrong. You are the reasons I fight.”

“So much mush,” said Gandra with a shudder.

“Get used to it,” teased Fenton. “You sure you don’t want to ride with us, Dewey?”

“Huey’s with his best friend and I ought to go to mine. See you in a few!”

It took a bit longer before he encountered the next group. The girls were all surrounded with Lena’s blue magic, keeping them anchored in the sky and letting them move as they pleased. Dewey cupped his wings around his beak and he shouted, “Webby!”

“Dewey!” she shrieked back gleefully.

She opened her wings and Dewey performed a spin before landing in her embrace. He gripped her tightly and whispered, “Thank you, Webby. For believing in me even when I didn’t. For not giving up even when I wanted to. I couldn’t have found out what happened to Mom without you.”

“I’ll always believe in you, Dewey,” said Webby fiercely, clinging to his shoulders. “Thanks for trusting me with your secrets.”

“Awwwwwwww.”

The coos came from the gathered girls, though Lena’s was a touch more sarcastic than sincere. Dewey stuck his tongue out at her and she made a face at him in return. He spun around so he could fully face May and June and took hold of their wings.

“Webby is like, the best sister you could ask for. I know everything is going to be crazy different for you now, but it’s going to be way better. I promise.”

“We’ve never been part of a family before,” said June hesitantly.

“I didn’t have a family at first, either,” said Lena softly. She pulled Violet against her side and said warmly, “But Violet and Webby changed that for me, and we’re going to change it for you.”

“We’ll show you the ropes,” said Violet confidently. “Don’t worry. You will be well-loved.”

May peeked at Dewey and said hopefully, “We always wondered what it would be like to have a brother.”

“Now you’ve got three,” said Dewey with a grin. “I’m the best triplet, though, but I’m sure you’ll soon figure that out.”

“Okay, one of the rules of this family, Huey is the most trustworthy triplet,” said Lena with a roll of her eyes. “So, like, don’t take anything this dork says seriously.”

“Noted,” chirped May and June.

Dewey clutched at his heart. “I am wounded.”

“Whatever,” said Lena with a snort. “You wanna fly with us?”

“I’m actually on my way to Launchpad. I thought I’d see you before I passed by.”

“Group hug before you go!” whooped Webby.

Dewey found himself smushed between the group of girls. “Cooties! I’m infected!”

May blinked. “Cooties?”

“Get outta here!” said Lena with a laugh.

Dewey found himself encased with blue magic. He yipped as Lena flung him down and as he twisted and spun through the air, he found the inspiration for his apology to Huey.

Thanks to the burst of power from Lena’s magic, Dewey came upon Manny, Mrs. Beakley, Scrooge, Della and Donald much quicker. “Heeeeeey!” he said dizzily as he finally straightened himself out.

“What are you doing?” demanded Donald. “I told you not to dawdle!”

“I’m not! I’m on my way to Launchpad!”

“Where are your brothers?” asked Della with a frown.

“Louie’s with Gyro and B.O.Y.D. and Huey’s with Fenton and Gandra.”

“Is Webby still with the girls?” asked Mrs. Beakley.

“Yup! Just passed them.”

“Launchpad is too far down,” insisted Donald. “Get over here.”

“I’m going to be fine! I can literally see Launchpad from here, it won’t take long.” Dewey grinned at Manny and said, “Love the makeover, by the way. Beyond epic.”

“I must say, it’s nice to have my own head once again,” Manny replied.

“Don’t see what was wrong with the other one,” said Scrooge under his breath.

“All right, before I go, I have some very important things to say,” declared Dewey. He drifted over to Mrs. Beakley and folded his wings around her neck. “Thanks for being our protector,” he said softly. “I love you.”

Mrs. Beakley set a wing against his back. “I love you too, Dewey. I will always fight the battles you cannot,” she said strongly. “And thank you, for all you’ve done for my—for Web—”

“For your granddaughter,” interrupted Dewey firmly. “She’s your granddaughter.”

It took Mrs. Beakley a minute before she could speak past the lump that formed in her throat. “Yes. She is.”

Dewey latched onto his great-uncle next and Scrooge wasted no time into pulling his nephew against his chest. “Ah’ve hunted years for the most sought-after treasures,” he whispered. “But ye kids and your uncle reminded me that there will never be a greater treasure than my family. Ah love ye, Dewey.”

“I love you too,” said Dewey, nuzzling into the front of Scrooge’s coat. “You taught me so much. You showed me the world. You helped me realize that I’m special as I am, and that the only one who thought I wasn’t good enough was me.”

“Ye are perfect joost the way ye are,” murmured Scrooge. “Do nae ever change.”

“Thanks, Uncle Scrooge.”

Scrooge gently let him go and Dewey floated back into the air. He angled himself in front of his mother and uncle and, at the sight of the tears already building in their eyes, his own started to spill over.

“You know, I’m the luckiest kid in the world. When I set out to solve the mystery of my mom, I only wanted to know what happened to her. I thought she was lost, but then I found her. She wasn’t who I thought she was—she was even better than that. She’s been trying to be the best mother she can be ever since she came back and though she makes mistakes sometimes, I know she loves us, and she’s already taught each of us so much. She’s amazing.

“Even if I didn’t understand it or always appreciate it, I was protected for the first decade of my life by someone who loved me and my brothers more than anything else in the world. He loved us enough to bring us to meet our great-uncle, and we’ve grown together ever since. I know that even if he learned to let go, he’ll always be close enough for me to reach out and grab hold of. I never had to go searching for my dad because he’s been with me since the day I was hatched.”

Donald seized Dewey by a wing and pulled the boy into his embrace. Della twisted around and placed one wing on the back of Donald’s neck while the other curled around Dewey’s waist. Donald nuzzled his beak against the top of Dewey’s head and the duckling clung to them, tears splashing down his cheeks.

“I love you,” he said tearfully. “I love you both so much. I’m who I am because of you.”

“No, you’re who you are because of your uncle,” said Della with gratitude. “The best brother a girl could ask for, and the best dad. I see so much of Donald in you and your brothers.”

“When I look at them, I see you,” countered Donald, lightly running his wing through Dewey’s feathers. “Their spirit, their love of adventure and their strength is all you.”

“No,” said Scrooge, his voice thick with emotion. “The boys are both of ye. Ah know because the traits that drove me crazy when ye were kids are the same traits that these kids have.”

Donald and Della looked at each other and laughed. Della wiped the tears from Dewey’s face and kissed his forehead. “I love you, baby. I am so, so proud of you.”

“You boys are my world,” said Donald tenderly. “That’ll never change.”

Dewey beamed. “You guys are my world, too.”

“Now go to Launchpad before I strap you to Manny,” said Donald.

“I would prefer if you didn’t,” the horse said.

Donald and Della raised their wings with Dewey holding on. For a moment he floated in the grasp of his guardians, and Dewey’s heart felt like it would burst from the amount of love he felt.

The twins let go and Dewey tuck and rolled, sailing further down. He spun onto his back to blow Scrooge, Della and Donald a kiss, which they mimed catching in unison with adoring, loving smiles on their beaks.

Dewey fell into a dive and he hollered, “Launchpad!”

“Little buddy!” cried Launchpad.

“Can I ride with you?”

“You sure can! Get over here!”

Dewey fell level beside Gosalyn and she grinned at him. “All right! Now we balance out the nerdiness with our coolness!”

“You know it!” he cheered, high-fiving her.

Darkwing ruffled his feathers. “Better get secure, kiddo. I think the ground’s fast approaching.”

Launchpad grabbed hold of Dewey and the boy let out a small squeak as he was sandwiched against the pilot’s broad chest. “Don’t worry, Dewey. I’ll keep you safe.”

“I know you will,” said Dewey with a smile. “Thanks for being my best friend, Launchpad. You inspire me every day. I love you.”

“Aw, buddy, I love you too,” said Launchpad with a sniffle, squeezing Dewey even tighter. “But you inspire me way more.”

“You’ll never guess what happened in the evil guy’s lair,” said Gosalyn eagerly.

“What happened?”

“Launchpad became Gizmoduck! He kicked butt and it was awesome!”

Dewey craned his neck and said excitedly, “You got to borrow Gizmoduck’s armour?!”

“I sure did!” said Launchpad proudly.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

As Launchpad started to tell an enthralled Dewey the story, Darkwing turned to Gosalyn and frowned. “Wait. Borrowed? I thought Launchpad was Gizmoduck.”

Gosalyn shook her head fondly and lightly tapped Darkwing’s beak. “Yeah, no, he’s definitely not, Clueless One.”

“Hey!”

[lettheladylead]

Not Your Aunt

Chapter 7: Huey [ao3 link]

It’d been two days since her chat with Dewey and Goldie found herself still in Scrooge’s home. Normally she would’ve left the morning after her little visit, but he’d been so busy with all of his family’s craziness that they hadn’t really had a chance to talk yet. Donald had apparently just left on a trip with his girlfriend and some clone children and everyone was adjusting to all the news and everything they’d been through.

So Goldie figured she would just...wait around. She’d informed the necessary people that she was alive, shockingly, after being missing for a few weeks, so she could take a few more days to herself. And it wasn’t like Scrooge didn’t know she was there; she’d still spent both nights in his bed, but he’d been falling asleep pretty quickly and getting up early and this whole situation they were in felt disturbingly domestic. She’d probably need to leave sooner or later, before anyone started to think she was moving in.

At that particular moment, Goldie was situated on the living room couch, wearing a tank top and sweatpants and flipping through the channels on the TV without much thought. Scrooge was at another meeting at the Money Bin and if she didn’t know any better she’d almost think he was avoiding her with all of his late night meetings. Actually, she didn’t really know better, since this was kind of a new situation for them, but...well...what was she supposed to do about it? Go with him? That sounded terribly boring.

A home redecorating show she liked came on and Goldie decided to forget everything else and just sit back and try to enjoy it. Overthinking things with Scrooge never worked out well for her. It was one of many reasons why after over a hundred years, she felt out of place just sitting in his home without him.

The pitter patter of tiny feet coming her way didn’t ease that feeling at all, either.

She glanced to the right as the other triplet - Huey, she was confident she had that right - picked himself up and plopped himself on the couch next to her. She’d never had a single conversation with this child, but she’d stolen from him and knew he kept a ridiculous number of things hidden under his tiny little hat. It was fascinating. But otherwise she didn’t know much about him or why he would be attempting to interact with her.

“I’d like to go over some scheduling issues,” he said suddenly, pulling a notebook and a pen out from under his hat.

Goldie glanced around the room briefly and then back at him. “...with me?”

“Yes,” Huey responded matter-of-factly. “If you’re going to be staying here for a while or living here or whatever’s happening with you, ideally I’d love to add you to the shared family calendar.”

“...what?”

“...but assuming you’re just here for a few days and then coming and going at your leisure, just knowing ahead of time when you and Uncle Scrooge are having your date nights would be perfect.” He took notes while he was talking, as if Goldie had given him even a single answer. “I like to know where he is in case we need him for anything. I’m sure you understand.”

“I, uh…” Goldie took a moment to go over everything he said and quickly shook her head. “Your uncle and I do not have ‘date nights’.”

“Well maybe not this time around since he’s been so busy, but isn’t that the plan?” Huey asked genuinely, still taking notes on who-knew-what. “Once he’s free I assume you’ll get dinner and have a talk about your relationship and our family. And other adult date stuff.”

Goldie responded to that with the most neutral, unemotional stare that Huey had ever received. She took the remote and muted the television before turning her whole body towards the nosy child next to her, lifting her feet up onto the couch. “And why exactly do you assume that?”

Huey tilted his head at her. “Oh...sorry, isn’t that right? Dewey said you’d been wandering around waiting to talk to Uncle Scrooge so that’s just the conclusion I drew. Plus you’re...y’know, still here even though he’s not. And you’re not stealing anything.”

“I have other hobbies.”

He pointed to the TV with his pen. “Like the Property Brothers?”

Goldie glanced at the screen and then back at the kid. “Even if, hypothetically, you were right about all of that, I am absolutely not ever joining your family calendar.”

Huey shook his head. “I don’t know why you’d say that like it’s a bad thing. Don’t you want to be organized?”

“I’m plenty organized by myself.”

“But if you were synced with us, then you’d know when Uncle Scrooge or Louie is available to spend time with.”

Goldie paused for a moment and stared at him. She’d barely spoken to her favorite of Della’s kids since arriving at the house and having him brought up felt like some kind of dig. She wasn’t sure how to respond to it without getting defensive and she wasn’t even sure what she’d be getting defensive about. “...I prefer the element of surprise. Keeps the boys on their toes.”

Huey shook his head and shrugged. “So how long are you staying here? Can I at least know that?”

“I’m not really sure,” Goldie answered, leaning fully against the back of the couch. It was pretty comfy. “Not too long. I’ve got other places to be.”

“...extremely vague and unhelpful,” Huey mumbled, jotting something down in his notebook. “You and Uncle Scrooge are quite the pair.”

Goldie only responded to that with a short hum, grabbing the remote to get back to her show.

“Can I ask you something else?”

She sighed and put the remote back down. “It’s not like I can stop you.”

Huey turned his body fully towards her, one leg up on the couch and one still dangling. “Well...if I’m making you really uncomfortable or anything, I can stop.”

Goldie raised an eyebrow at him, surprised by the suggestion, but quickly waved it off. “What’s your question?”

“Are you planning on marrying Uncle Scrooge?”

If she’d been drinking anything, she would’ve spit it out at that moment. Goldie could say with absolute certainty that she did not see that question coming. “What could I have possibly said to make you think that?”

“Not you,” Huey said earnestly. “I just noticed that everyone seems to call you Aunt Goldie and I remember in one of Uncle Scrooge’s journals he wrote about marriage when he wrote about you so I assumed you two have had a conversation about it at least once or twice. Right?”

Goldie’s eyes widened and she felt heat rising in her chest that she couldn’t explain away as simple heartburn. She hoped her face wasn’t red to match, because this kid was clearly observant and blunt and she didn’t need the whole family thinking she wanted to get married and move in. “I, uh…” Goldie cleared her throat awkwardly. “...no, it’s not something we’ve really talked about.”

Huey looked at her in confusion. “Not really or not at all?”

She grimaced and sighed and moved her hands around her face as she tried to put her thoughts together. “It’s not...I mean, it’s not never come up, it’s just...it’s complicated. It’d be hard to explain.”

“Try me.”

Goldie frowned and barely stopped herself from glaring at him. “...y’know what, if your uncle is the one writing Goldie McDuck in little hearts all over his workbooks, maybe you should talk to him about it, hm?”

Huey blinked up at her. “I guess I can do that. He’s just always very secretive when it comes to you.”

That got her attention a little more than it should’ve. Goldie sighed internally and didn’t bother trying to stop herself. “...what do you mean by that?”

“Well, like…” Huey moved so both of his legs were dangling again and he could swing them around. “I love romance a lot. I love to read about it and watch romantic movies...my friend Fenton and his girlfriend Gandra are so sweet together and Uncle Donald and his girlfriend are also really sweet together and I really love that for both of them. But then you and Uncle Scrooge seem like you’re happy sometimes but then when I ask him about you he gets all grumbly and doesn’t answer my questions, so that’s not a good sign. But I’m really curious about it because I know there’s all different types of romance out there and I don’t even know how the two of you met.”

Goldie hummed quietly and stared at the wall over the TV, considering her response. She definitely wouldn’t describe her and Scrooge’s relationship as ‘sweet,’ but she’d never tried to sum it up into one word before. “...the way we met is also very...complicated.”

“It seems like everything about you two is complicated.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” she said with a short, quiet laugh. “I do love your uncle, but it’s just-...!”

Huey gasped, and Goldie froze at the realization of what she’d just said. She stared directly at Huey who looked more excited than he’d been for any of the rest of their conversation. He was suddenly fully engaged thanks to her accidental use of the l-word. She glanced away from him and hoped she could stumble over that, but she’d paused for too long for them to simply move past it.

It wasn’t like she’d never said it before, but absolutely never to someone in his family. That would be...too much.

“You do?!” Huey asked - his notepad down and leaning towards her and putting his hands on his cheeks. “Does Uncle Scrooge know? Has he said it too? That’s so romantic!”

Goldie groaned and looked back at the TV, only to see the couple fixing up their house snuggling on the camera. “I mean, look. We’ve been...well, it’s been over a hundred years, so yeah these things are bound to be said at some point-”

Huey let out a tiny, adorable little squeal that Goldie refused to find endearing.

“Alright, I’ve changed my mind!” Huey announced, grabbing his pen and notepad again. “I’m completely fine to call you Aunt Goldie!”

“Wait, what?” Goldie stared at him, feeling very confused like she’d missed a whole big part of their conversation. “You know we’re still not getting married, right?”

“Well, Aunt Goldie,” Huey said with a smirk. “I now know that you’re mutually in love and probably have been for a very long time, so whether you want to be or not, that means you’re part of the family!”

She sighed and lightly scratched her neck.

“Do you have any other family?”

Goldie looked surprised at the sudden question, not expecting this child to suddenly change conversation topics like his brother. “...no, I don’t.”

“Oh,” Huey responded, looking a little sad. “Did they...I mean, you’re as old as Uncle Scrooge, right? So they’re...uh…”

“Dead, yeah,” Goldie said with a shrug.

“I’m sorry!” Huey looked down at his hands. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

She watched him look like he was about to go into some shame spiral and Goldie quickly reached out a hand and plopped it on his head. “Don’t worry about it, it was a long time ago. And we were never close to begin with,” she added with another shrug.

Huey glanced back up at her, blushing a bit from the unexpected physical affection. “Does that mean you never introduced them to Uncle Scrooge?”

Goldie couldn’t stop herself and let out a short laugh, moving her hand from Huey’s head to cover her beak. “Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled as she collected herself. “No, God no, absolutely not.”

He moved his hat back to the position he preferred it in. “Have you met Uncle Scrooge’s parents?”

“Ah...sort of-” Goldie started, but suddenly she froze. She thought about his line of questioning for a second before turning to glare at Huey completely. “What are you writing?”

Huey looked up from his notebook and let out a small chirp as he noticed Goldie’s expression. “Um...I’m just taking notes…”

“Taking notes about what?” Goldie asked as she reached out and grabbed the notebook away from him. Huey struggled to grab it back but Goldie held him down with her other hand.

She scanned over the open page and saw that he’d written notes on all the information she’d given him (about herself, about her and Scrooge’s relationship) and her tone of voice and expression when talking about them. She flipped to another page to see similar notes and rolled her eyes before throwing the notepad back at Huey.

Huey caught it and did his best to avoid her gaze.

“Should I even ask?”

He shoved the notepad and pen under his hat again and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Goldie pinched the bridge of her beak. “I’m not upset, I’m just confused. Did Scrooge tell you to come talk to me?”

“Huh?” Huey mirrored her confusion. “No, of course not! It was nothing like that!”

“Then…?”

He sighed awkwardly. “Dewey said he got an interview with you and I didn’t believe him and then we got into an argument about it and he said he had the best interviewing skills in the family, but I’m the one with the Interviewing Badge which I’ve had for several years so I wanted to...prove him wrong, I guess.” Huey covered his eyes with his hands and sighed. “Ugh, this is so stupid. I’m really sorry.”

Goldie raised an eyebrow and reached over to tug his hands away from his eyes. “Kid, it’s fine. I can always understand the urge to prove you’re better than someone else,” she said with a smirk.

Huey looked at her for a few moments before smiling. “So it’s okay if I show this to Dewey?”

She glanced at his hat and then back down at his eyes, which were sparkling and genuine and he was just a very cute kid and Goldie hated how that seemed to be something that affected her these days. She held back a sigh and let go of his arms. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s not like I said anything that’s a secret.”

“Thank you, Aunt Goldie!” Huey said happily right before he jumped forward and wrapped his arms around her neck.

Goldie let out a surprised OOF! and didn’t hug back, just stared off towards the wall on the other side of the room.

Huey moved back away from her and kept smiling. “Louie’s right, you’re a lot nicer than Uncle Scrooge says you are!” he said as he hopped off the couch. “Thanks for talking to me! I hope you didn’t miss anything important on your show.”

“...nothing important ever happens on this show,” Goldie mumbled as Huey waddled away - probably towards the boys’ shared bedroom. She frowned and tried to will away the blush on her cheeks from the light physical affection. It was disturbing to her how much a little hand-hold or a hug made her feel like she had butterflies in her stomach. It was more than disturbing! She was practically going soft.

She sighed and thought about what Huey said before he left. Maybe she needed to have a chat with Sharpie.

[vilevampire]

“Isn’t it Love?” (One Shot)

Thank you @ducksoup17 for helping me beta read this :) Rating: General audiences Trigger Warnings: Panic attacks Pairing: Louie Duck x B.O.Y.D Summary: Boyd thinks he might be in love. 1.805 words Ao3 Link

"Dr. Dad?"

Gyro stopped writing in his notebook.

Right now, there were only him and Boyd in the lab.

He dropped his pen to focus his full attention on his son.

"Yes, 2B— I mean… Boyd?"

"What is love like?"

Gyro blinked his eyes.

"Pardon?"

"What does romantic attraction feel like?"

"Boyd, who taught you those words?"

"The internet." Boyd chirped happily.

Gyro scratched his head with a grunt.

"Those are not things for you to worry about. Why would you even want to know this?" He reached out to his coffee mug and took a sip.

"It's because I think that I might be in love, Dr. Dad." Boyd explained a little awkwardly.

Gyro suddenly spat his coffee in a coughing fit.

Startled, Boyd reached out to pat his father's back lightly.

When Gyro could finally stop coughing, he screeched:

"IN LOVE?! With who? How? Since when?!"

Boyd put his hands on his back while looking bashfully at the floor.

"I don't know. It started somewhat recently." Gyro couldn't help but notice that Boyd had avoided his first question. The more his son talked, the more color drained away from his face. "I've been experiencing confusing feelings when talking to and thinking about a specific person. I searched for answers online and the results said that I might be in love."

Gyro massaged his temples with a groan.

Boyd, being the smart kid he is, immediately noticed his father's unrest. Carefully, he approached Gyro and spoke up:

"Dr. Dad?" He hesitated. "Am I… bad for feeling this way?"

Gyro looked down at his child.

Boyd had already grown far beyond a simple robot ages ago. He had surpassed all of Gyro's expectations and, to this day, he was still his greatest creation.

Boyd deserved much better than a grumpy dad.

Alas, Gyro really wasn't cut out for this whole father and son thing.

With a sigh, Gyro pulled Boyd into a hug, which was quickly reciprocated.

"You're not bad for having feelings, Boyd. I was just surprised, that's all." He pushed his son away gently. "However, I don't think I'm the right person to explain more about this subject to you."

Boyd looked at his father with a frown. His Dr. Dad was the smartest person he knew. He always had the solutions for everything.

If he couldn't give him the answer to his dilemma, who else could?

—————

Boyd knocked on the elegant wooden door.

"Doofus?"

…

No response.

He knocked again. This time, he heard a grumble come from inside. Boyd turned the doorknob and pushed it open.

"What do you want, you lousy piece of machinery?" Doofus pierced him with his eyes. He was currently in the middle of… something.

His head was dripping wet and a bucket full of water could be seen in his hands.

Fortunately, Boyd had already learned long ago not to question his older brother's strange pastime activities.

"Brother, what is love like?"

Doofus stopped whatever the hell he was doing to look up at Boyd.

"And why would you like to know that, hmm?"

The corners of Boyd's mouth twitched. A warm blush spread across his cheeks while he fidgeted with his thumbs.

Of course, Doofus noticed all of this.

"Ho-hooo." He eyed Boyd curiously. "Well, what do we have here? It would seem my little brother has been fiddling around?"

Boyd quietly tapped his feet on the floor. Maybe Doofus wasn't the right person to ask about this after all.

"Well, you're in luck. You've come to the right person."

Boyd looked up at him.

"I did?"

"Yes." Doofus got up from his chair to pace around his room, gesturing wildly at his brother. "You see, Boyd, love is like sweet, sticky honey, and the self-sacrificing bees that make it. It's the rush of fresh air you feel after getting locked inside a room for two weeks, it's that moment when you realize chickens can't fly despite having wings."

Boyd furrowed his brows while listening to Doofus' rant.

"I don't think I get it."

Doofus smirked weirdly at him. He patted his brother's shoulder reassuringly.

"Someday you will, brother. Someday you will."

...As it turns out, Doofus wasn't the right person to ask about this after all.

—————

"Huey, can I ask you something?"

Huey looked up from his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook to gaze at Boyd. The two of them were hanging out in the triplet's bedroom while Huey's brothers weren't around.

"Of course. What's up?"

"What is love like?"

Huey seemed unprepared for this question.

"Why do you want to know something like that?"

"...Why does everybody ask me that? Can't you please just tell me?" Boyd pouted while blushing a little.

Boyd was an incredibly easy person to read. Anyone with half a pair of eyes could discern the boy's emotions just from taking one look at his face.

Combine that with the fact that he was Huey's best friend, of course Huey would quickly realize what was probably going on.

"Boyd, could it be... you have a crush on someone?" Huey smiled gently at his friend. "That's adorable. Who is it? Can you tell me?" He poked Boyd teasingly.

Boyd pondered over this.

Huey was his best friend in the whole world.

Maybe it would be okay if he told him?

Boyd shifted around nervously, the soft blush on his cheeks becoming increasingly stronger.

"...ouie..."

"Hm?"

"...I think—" Boyd took a deep breath. "I think I like... Louie..."

Huey suddenly closed his book with a heavy-sounding thud.

He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and then opened it again:

"You have a crush on Louie? My brother Louie?!"

Boyd nodded shyly.

Huey became speechless. The gears started turning in his head.

Should he tell Boyd how Louie felt about him?

No, no, Louie himself had to be the one to do it.

"Have you considered confessing to him?"

Boyd fiddled with his thumbs as he spoke:

"I have, but... I'm not sure. What if—" He hesitated. "What if he doesn't feel the same way about me?"

Slowly, Boyd's eyes widened and his pupils constricted, tears threatening to escape.

"Huey— Huey, what if he doesn't like me back? What if he doesn't like robots?" Boyd's breath became erratic as he began twisting and pulling on Huey's bedsheets. "What if he actually hates me? Wha-"

"Hey! Boyd, calm down, please." Huey held onto his friend's face forcefully but gently. "It's okay. Look at me. I'm here. Please focus on your breathing. You'll get through this, okay?"

Boyd stared into Huey's eyes without blinking, a single tear quietly running down his cheek. He closed his eyes abruptly and sniffed.

Huey pulled him into a hug.

"It's okay." 

"I'm here for you."

"You're not a bother."

"You're a real person."

"None of us hate you."

"You're more than just a robot."

He spent many minutes saying comforting words to his friend until Boyd's silent cries eventually calmed down.

This wasn't the first time they had done this.

"Boyd, listen to me," Huey spoke kindly but firmly, still holding his friend in his arms. "Nobody hates you, okay? Especially not Louie. He's your friend."

He could feel Boyd give a weak nod under his grasp, so he kept going:

"And you're my best friend, alright? I could never hate you. You're an amazing person who's going through a lot right now." He paused. "You should consider opening up to Louie about how you feel."

Boyd held tightly onto the back of Huey's clothes.

"Are you sure? Do you think it's a good idea?"

"Yes. Your heart will feel much lighter after you tell him the truth, trust me."

"...Okay. I will try."

—————

"So, did you have something you wanna tell me?" Louie crossed his legs.

He looked the same as always: hands in his pockets, nonchalant, peaceful and easy-going, yet also cunning and sharp... everything Boyd ever aspired to be.

Boyd gulped apprehensively.

"Louie, do you hate me?" He blurted out before getting straight to the point.

It was a good start.

Louie stared at him in surprise.

"What? No? Do I act like I hate you?"

Boyd bit down on his beak nervously.

"No... I just..." He looked away, his voice trailing off.

Louie decided to pick it up from there.

"Dude, you're like, one of the coolest people I know."

Boyd looked over at him again.

"And I love hanging out with you. Sometimes it feels like you're one of the only people who really get me."

"Really?" Boyd choked out. "I'm… glad you feel that way."

"Of course." Louie nodded. "I like you very much, dude. You're my friend."

Boyd's heart started racing as he struggled to get his words out.

"Actually-" He paused, opening up his beak to speak, but finding himself unable to do so.

Boyd's selective mutism was a recurring issue.

It had gotten slightly better over time, but there were still many moments where he would be too anxious to say anything out loud. 

Louie was already used to this, so he patiently waited for his friend to find his voice.

However, as more seconds stretched out, the more it seemed like he couldn't. Boyd was unable to get the words out of his throat. He stood completely frozen, except for his trembling beak, silently telling the words-

"—I love you?"

Louie's face flushed red.

He read Boyd's lips and accidentally let the words slip out of his mouth.

"That's what you were trying to say, right?" He tried playing it smooth, but it was clear that he was getting flustered.

After seeing the usually silver-tongued, smug, and overly confident Louie Duck crumble into a flushing mess, Boyd finally gathered enough courage to speak up:

"I love you."

Louie closed his mouth to focus all of his attention on the robot in front of him.

"I'm not sure since when, but... I think this is what I'm feeling" His voice grew increasingly steady the more he spoke. "I'm in love with you, Louie. You're amazing in every sense of the word. You're smart, funny, observant, assertive, loyal, trustworthy, level-headed, you're pretty, you always know what to say, you're compassionate, you pick up on the little details, you understand me, you make me feel better, you're so amazing..."

Boyd stopped for a moment, trying to pry for Louie's reaction.

"Louie?"

The duck's face was completely covered by his hoodie, with his hands covering his eyes.

But even then, Boyd could still tell with the help of his heat sensors that Louie's face was definitely blushing wildly.

"Louie? Are you—"

"BATHROOM BREAK!" He suddenly exclaimed, running away as fast as he possibly could.

"...Huh."

Boyd was very confused.

He was very, very confused, but…

Huey was right about one thing at least.

His chest didn't feel as tight anymore.

[astrodances]

**SLIGHT SPOILERS for “The Fight for Castle McDuck!” ahead!**

Because writing Goldie and Louie texting is so much fun.

*****

Yet Another Secret of Clan McDuck!

Goldie both loves and hates room service.

She loves the anticipation of knowing that a nice, hot meal that she didn’t have to make herself can and will arrive at any minute, ready for her to dig into after a long day of going after her next mark. But at the same time...she hates the actual waiting.

Still, it gives her time to freshen up, relax a bit. Maybe get a movie started on the TV, or text a certain green...nephew.

Only a week ago now, Goldie found out from her sources (while heading down to the Underworld to get a certain fallen wreath) that Louie had been at The Spice-A-Torium in Instanbull the week before that, facing off against Rockerduck himself, with the help of yet another kid to add to the family list (how many did that make now?). Of course, Goldie had texted him right after hearing that to see how he fared (she knew things could get spicy at those dealings), but what she didn’t tell him is that her source had said that Louie had used her as a reference in a couple of side deals, calling her “Aunt Goldie,” and that now, people were identifying him as “O’Gilt’s nephew.”

She really should’ve reminded him not to throw out ties that casually, that people could use it against him, or even her, but...they both have reputations that protect them (and if not, well, they’d be messing with the wrong aunt then). And, if she’s being honest with herself...she likes the way “O’Gilt’s nephew” sounds.

Not that she’s going to tell him that anytime soon.

Goldie sinks into her room’s couch, her phone already out and opened to her texts, and wills her heart to ignore that increasingly-familiar familial warmth bubbling up once again. Scrooge and the kids are staying in Dismal Downs for a couple of days, and it’s bad enough that she’s planning on sneaking into McDuck Manor before they get back not to steal something, but to surprise Scrooge and Louie when they get there.

But that doesn’t mean her heart has to make a big deal out of it.

Goldie: How’s the castle, kid?

It’s getting close to midnight in Scotland, so Goldie won’t be surprised if she doesn’t hear from Louie until tomorrow on the half-chance he’s already asleep. She drops her phone to her side and picks up her water bottle from the end table, taking sip after sip.

After a minute, her phone buzzes with a message, then another, making her smile more than she has any right to.

Sharpie: Cold as ever. And y’know, we found some magical bagpipes, saved them from some bad guys, and had some statues of our ancestors come to life. Typical day. 😝

Sharpie: Also we met our Aunt Matilda.

Goldie smiles again, this time though over Scrooge’s sister. She’s met her exactly twice, both times by circumstance (her past self would never have let her get close enough to Scrooge to willingly want to meet his family), but each time ended up being a riot as Matilda would tease Scrooge for having a girlfriend, thus helping her give him hell (yet another trait of her past self). Looking back between those meetings and the first night she met the triplets, Goldie now knows exactly where the boys get their teasing gene from.

Goldie: I like her. Give her my regards.

Goldie looks up and finally takes stock of what’s on TV. Whatever channel she put it on has delved into a new movie, some comedy from the forties. She can live with it, so she turns her attention to the time on her phone just as a new message comes in.

Any minute now. Food.

But for now, she’s looking at a selfie of Louie with Matilda leaning over his shoulder, waving at the camera. They’re surrounded by bits of concrete and other debris, with their sleeves rolled up and their clothes covered in dust, and Goldie can just make out the back of Scrooge’s broadcloth coat in the background as he lifts something onto a pedestal of some sort.

Sharpie: She’s right here. She says hi!

Goldie grins and nods silently at her phone, happy to see both of them looking well, but surprised at how...awake everyone seems to be in the castle at their hour.

Goldie: Hi Matilda!

Goldie: Also: did a twister take a wrong turn in Glasgow?

Sharpie: Right. The statues? They kinda made a mess of things, so we have to fix them. There was...a lot of fighting here tonight.

She doesn’t press it, not now. She’s about to eat, and everyone there seems to be happy for now. Luckily for her, Louie saves her from having to think of something to say in response.

Sharpie: Wait, oh man, hang on.

Goldie does as told, watching with renewed interest as a few seconds pass before those three little typing bubbles pop up. Briefly, she considers that the statues have come back to life.

After more than a minute of on-again/off-again bubbles, she finds herself getting interested in the movie and drinking her water again. Just as she takes a long sip, a new text chimes in.

Sharpie: Aunt Matilda wants me to ask you, how are things in Goldieburg?

Goldie does a spit take, her water spraying out into the room and all over her phone screen. Whatever brain cells she has left are used to automatically wipe her screen across her sleeve to dry it, because she’s otherwise occupied with her face heating up and Louie’s last word echoing through her head.

Goldieburg???

Matilda’s teasing. It must be her teasing, though...Goldieburg...is definitely a new one. One she can’t even begin to imagine the origins of, though she suspects that Scrooge’s face is probably just as red as hers right now. She also suspects that another fight is starting up, and judging by the fact that Louie was able to send his last text, she’d wager that Matilda is winning.

A knock on her door draws Goldie’s attention away from her phone, but does little to calm the growing turmoil within her. Of course her food would arrive at this moment. She spares a final gawk at her phone before getting up and throwing it to the couch cushions.

It takes all remaining ounces of her self-control for Goldie to ignore the bellboy’s questioning stares at her frenzied appearance as he pushes her room service table into the room, pops open the wine for her, and tells her that she can call the front desk at anytime for them to come get the table when she’s done. She doesn’t know how much she actually tips him, but judging by the wide, bubbly grin that replaces his stare as he rushes out, her mind was far from her wallet when she opened it.

Food. Also far from her mind, for now.

Goldie snatches up her phone as soon as the door is locked again, hoping that there’ll be some explanation waiting for her.

It’s not that she’s embarrassed by the teasing - heaven knows that she’ll be the first to tease Scrooge, for any number of reasons - but this one seems so...personal. So specific. She supposed she should be flattered to affect Scrooge so much that he came up with this, whatever the circumstances. And perhaps that’s it - maybe it’s not the shock of the...uniqueness of “Goldieburg,” but rather it’s that stupid schoolgirl-crush-like warmth creeping through her veins at the idea of Scrooge getting flustered about her around his family, of him telling them about her - however involuntarily or distractedly, it seems - in a way other than a cautionary warning.

That, and Louie knows about it. Somehow, she has the feeling that this is going to be so much worse than him - any of the kids, really - calling her “aunt.”

There are notifications for seven new texts and a photo.

Sharpie: Uncle Scrooge says for you to totally read that last text and to definitely bring it up next time you see him

Sharpie: And that Goldieburg is his favorite place in the whole wide world

Sharpie: and that I should stop texting if I wanna stay in the will

Sharpie: wait what??

Goldie notices a time jump between the last text and the next.

Sharpie: Good news, I’m still in the will, thanks to Aunt Matilda.

A picture follows, of Matilda holding Scrooge back with one arm looped under his shoulder and the other holding him in a headlock. There’s a dead-seriousness in Matilda’s eyes but otherwise she looks like she just won the sibling battle to end all sibling battles. Scrooge, meanwhile, is redder than his coat, missing his hat, and looks ready to break Louie’s phone, even though there’s no way in hell he’s getting out of his current predicament, especially considering that an emu is holding one of his legs in its beak. Still, the photo seems to have been taken from a safe distance away.

(Goldie will have to ask about the emu later, when things aren’t so....chaotic.)

Sharpie: Sooooo...does this make you the mayor of Goldieburg? Or is Scrooge the mayor and you’re the leading citizen? 😂

Sharpie: Oh! Apparently there’s a Goldiesota, too!

Goldie is now very certain that she is on fire, especially with that penultimate text. It seems that she and Scrooge are both definite victims of teasing here now. She buries her head into her free hand and rubs it down her face, pausing to type out the only response she can manage right now.

Goldie: I no longer like Matilda.

Louie’s response is immediate.

Sharpie: Awww

Sharpie: But she likes you! In fact, she says she would *love* to live in Goldieburg.

Sharpie: I would, too! I can just imagine it - cons and schemes widespread, with no laws getting in the way. Infinite gold that holds its value. It’d be paradise!

Sharpie: Though I’m sure Uncle Scrooge has something different in mind.

Sharpie: Wait ew. No. Nevermind.

Sharpie: But you know what I mean.

Sharpie: 💛💛💛💛💛

Goldie rolls her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Suddenly her appetite is back, and the movie seems very captivating. She needs a distraction right now, anything to quell the butterflies. She may be warming up to the idea of family, but right now, she feels like she’s being pulled straight into the heart of the castle across the ocean, and that’s a little too much.

So she throws her phone on silent and wanders over to the room service table, taking a swig of wine straight from the bottle before lifting the tray cover on the center plate to see the juiciest-looking steak one could ever hope for, still steaming.

Culinary bliss.

By the time she finishes eating, Goldie is certain that all of Castle McDuck is asleep, or that they should be. She saw enough debris in those pictures, they’ll need the rest to finish cleaning up tomorrow. So she dares to turn her phone face-up again and take it off silent mode.

Handfuls of texts from multiple people, and several missed calls.

She delves into those from Scrooge first. As much as she doesn’t want to talk to him yet about all this - and she’s sure he feels the same way - if he tried to reach out to her, then she knows he’s going to at least provide the basic facts, without any teasing. An anchor point for her to refer to in her other texts.

Sourdough: Don’t listen to any of them, the hellions! I swear it’s not what you think. Whatever it is you’re thinking.

Sourdough: We can talk this over if you want, dear. Whenever you want.

Sourdough: Or not talk it over. I personally would like to forget Matilda ever opened her big dumb mouth.

Sourdough: Correction. Matilda does “not have a big dumb mouth and tell her that I am the best sister you could ever hope for, or I’ll serve Emu-tilda her breakfast in your hat.”

That text earns a particularly amused snicker from Goldie. She can just imagine the giant bird she saw in the picture earlier staring Scrooge down as he typed that.

Sourdough: Look, can I call you?

Goldie surmises the missed calls from Scrooge happened here.

Sourdough: Never mind. We’ll catch up after this trip. When I’m *not* surrounded by these...troublemakers. Good night, love.

The butterflies have moved from Goldie’s stomach to her heart, and an entirely new anticipation fills her with excitement. If she was a schoolgirl in this situation, she imagines this would be like having to wait over the weekend to talk to her crush on the playground on Monday. Never mind the fact that she’s not even trying to figure out how to get out of this, at least not yet, she realizes belatedly.

There’s one more text from Scrooge, sent after a time jump.

Sourdough: Do NOT believe anything you hear about Clan McScrooge!

Goldie has to stifle a laugh at that, and guesses that she’ll definitely be seeing more of “Clan McScrooge” in her other text messages. But first...

Goldie: Good night, Scroogey. 😘

She’s so tempted to send “Scroogey McScroogey,” but between that and “Goldieburg,” she really shouldn’t tempt fate when they’re all each other has in a boat surrounded by teasing family.

It takes all of five seconds for Scrooge to send back a response, one that’s so simple but enough to tune out the night’s noise for a few moments.

Sourdough: ❤️

She imagines him fumbling to put his phone back on his nightstand next to some big ornate medieval-style bed, his mind already luring him back to a deep sleep. Never mind the whole “Goldieburg” thing, it sounds like he already had an exhausting night between the fighting and the statues and the bagpipes. And the emu.

As she swipes back to see her conversations, Goldie immediately notices an unknown number with a few texts waiting for her. After reading the first one, she makes a contact for it.

Emu-tilda: Goldie! This is Matilda, Scrooge’s favorite sister.

Emu-tilda: Louie gave me your phone number to help make sure you’re okay.

Okay? Goldie pauses, a wave of uninvited guilt washing over her, and she fights every instinct to immediately switch to Louie’s texts. Instead, she wills herself to read through Matilda’s, if at a faster speed.

Emu-tilda: I’m sorry about Goldieburg and all. When I saw that it was you that Louie was talking to, I wanted to get under Scroogey’s skin a bit, so I told the bairns a tale from ages ago.

Emu-tilda: I’m sure Scrooge will fill you in, and if not, I’ll be more than happy to.

Goldie makes a mental note of the offer, and of the ensuing picture of a smiling, somewhat frazzled-looking Matilda with her arm wrapped around her emu, posing for the camera. She’ll respond to her texts later, but for now, she switches to her conversation with Louie, having to scroll back up to where he left off.

Sharpie: An update: Uncle Scrooge got out of the headlock, and is now chasing Aunt Matilda on her emu around the room.

Sharpie: Matilda’s on the emu, that is. Scrooge can’t catch his breath.

Sharpie: Oh! Now they’re in the hallways!

Sharpie: And Scrooge has a sword from the wall.

Sharpie: He’s totally defending your honor.

A blurry picture follows of Scrooge from behind, wielding a sword as he runs after his sister, a scowl clear on the visible side of his face. Goldie saves the photo - she can definitely use this later.

Sharpie: Wait no, now the emu has the sword!

Another picture, this one much more stable, follows again. Indeed, the emu has  somehow gotten ahold of Scrooge’s sword and is now chasing him through some sort of dining hall. Matilda herself even looks surprised and worried as she clutches at the feathers on the bird’s back.

Another keeper for the camera roll, if only for the sheer hilarity of it all.

Sharpie: Ok, Great-Grandma Downy is awesome. She totally just yanked the sword right out of the emu’s mouth while she was still running. Emu’s confined to Matilda’s room for the rest of the night. We’re all having some hot chocolate around a fire.

Sharpie: So, all’s well that end’s well.

There’s another time jump before the last batch of texts.

Sharpie: Right...?

Sharpie: Aunt Goldie?

Sharpie: You’re not mad about all this, are you? We’re all sorry for teasing you and Uncle Scrooge, and I know he didn’t mean anything bad by Goldieburg.

Sharpie: Are you ok?

Judging from the next few texts, Goldie guesses that this is when the missed calls from Louie came in.

Sharpie: I’m guessing you’re busy. At least, I hope so.

Sharpie: Again, it was all just some family teasing. Y’know how it is.

Sharpie: If it makes you feel any better, you can bring up Clan McScrooge the next time you talk to him.

Sharpie: Goldie?

Goldie blinks up from her phone, overwhelmed by the growing panic radiating from the texts and the guilt rekindled in herself. The idea of Louie, let alone anyone in Scrooge’s family, being this worried about her, even if there’s no actual cause for it, makes it hard to swallow and she finds herself quickly reaching for her water, chugging down the last third of it.

Y’know how it is.

She can’t say that she does. Her own family was never this close, never bounced back this easily after fights. They never...cared like this.

Maybe her heart’s right in making a big deal out of this.

After a few deep breaths, Goldie finally answers Louie.

Goldie: I’m ok, Sharpie. Was just eating dinner, had my phone on silent. Didn’t mean to scare you.

She’s very much surprised and totally-not-touched when he immediately texts back. He should definitely be asleep at this point.

Sharpie: Oh good. So, you’re not mad?

Goldie: Mad? No. Curious about the emu? Most definitely.

Sharpie: 😂😂 Understandable.

Goldie: You should be in bed though.

Sharpie: Oh I am! Couldn’t sleep yet though.

Goldie: Uh-huh. Love you too. Now go to sleep.

Sharpie: 🥰😴💛

Goldie: 💚

Not even half an hour ago, Goldie would have sworn off her impending trip to McDuck Manor in the name of not wanting to face Scrooge after the revelation of Goldieburg. But now the trip is back on, and she can’t deny to herself that she’s eager to see the ones she cares about.

That, and pay a visit to Scrooge McScrooge, mayor of Goldieburg.

[stardancerluv]

Runs for Herself and Enjoys to the Protection

Summary: Things go awry for reader and her client. Roman has to make sure nothing like this happens again to his girl.

⚠️ 🛑 Special Note, Warning ⚠️ 🛑

— Since returning to work, I have been cursed out, screamed at...wished ill. This past weekend was no exception. So to work through this, I wrote this. Yes, for the story I made it more intense. I also based it off some horrible treatment I was at the receiving end of. Only, I sadly had no one but myself to fall back on.

So I am not trying to use anything in this for the sake of a story. Needed to get some feelings off my chest. (In the story there is...unwanted advances, unwanted & violent touches and mentions of blood, & a murder.)

“Come on beautiful, if you can give out to Sionis you can give out to me.”

“Umm, that’s not how it works.”

You shivered in disgust as you felt his fingers in your hair.

“If you can’t stop touching me, I will cancel the contract.”

“Listen, think of Roman and it won’t be so bad.” He laid his hands on your shoulders as he chuckled.

“That’s it. We are done here.” You turned to face him. “I’ll have my lawyer call you.”

Next thing you knew you were seeing stars in front of your eyes as you found yourself laying partially on the desk. You could only reason, you had bumped your head.

“Listen, no one has ever complained before.” He hung over you and licked his worm like lips.

“Get away from me.” You pleaded, kicking you landed on his knee. He howled in pain, that’s when you jumped down from the desk.

He grabbed you, “No you don’t.” He back handed you and then back handed you again. The pain exploded in your face and once again you were seeing stars.

You had to do something, you eyed the situation. You had to get away. You could do this. With all of your strength you pushed him. Tumbling back, you finally ran.

“Not so fast deary.”

He soon stopped you by grabbing your dress with one of his meaty hands. You fought, you to free your dress. Hope grew in you as the fabric began to give. The sound as it rip was loud and filled the entire room. With your heart hurting you continued to run.

Everything was a blur some of his men stirred from being hunched over a card game they were playing.

“Get back here. No one runs from me.”

“Louie grab her.” You ran faster.

You managed to get outside, you ran desperately to a cab you saw sitting at a red light. You practically tore open the door and slammed the door shut, you were grateful no one was in side. It was a struggle to calm your breathing enough to talk.

“Ma’am what are....oh damn. Um where do you need to go?”

You looked and saw one of the goons coming over. “Go, please go!” Luckily then the light changed and he pealed away. Thankfully the traffic was not so busy on the south side of Gotham. “Take me to the Black Mask Club.”

“Ok ma’am.”

You finally took a mental breath. Looking, at your dress, a chill came over you. You would not cry, you just had to get there.

Never had you been more relieved to see Zsasz smoking outside. His eyes grew when he saw you.

“Please pay the cabbie. I don’t have my purse.”

He took a long drag of his cigarette and nodded. “Sure.”

When passed each other he whispered telling you he was upstairs.

Inside you felt so hollow, so hurt. You had always dealt with all different walks of life in Gotham. No one ever did this. You slumped against the wall of the elevator. You didn’t dare touch your face, the pain was beyond belief.

You winced when the elevator dinged announcing itself. You questioned yourself the closer you drew to his office. Perhaps you should let it go and just call your lawyer cancel the contract. It was bound to happen dealing with all the types in Gotham.

“What the fuck happened? Look at me!” Barked Roman.

You shook, you heard him exhale and as he drew closer. How did he already know, but then you realized Zsasz probably texted him.

You looked up into the very hard face of Roman. His features were razor sharp in his anger. You could watch as his eyes softened.

“Oh baby.” You bowed your head as you felt his eyes move over you. Your view filled with him as he stood right in front of you. “Baby.” His voice was gentle despite the clipped under tone. “Don’t look away. We need to get you cleaned up and then I want you to tell me everything.”

“Ok.”

*******

The was cloth was warm and comforting as he wiped away the dried tears and blood. The fresh tears came when you finally saw your face. He drew you close and just held you. His heart beat hard and fast in his chest.

He held you out of the dress, which he told you he would bring to the incinerator. You would never have to see it again.

Later, dressed in something much more comfortable. He just held you and gently ran your fingers through your hair.

You were finally feeling better in a half dozy state after the roller coaster your emotions went through. You felt Roman stiffen as his phone buzzed in his suit jacket.

Blinking, you looked up at him, you watched as he swallowed. “I have to go and take care of this.”

You clung to him, you uncontrollably just buried your face into his chest. You wanted to disappear. His cologne, his solidness felt so safe.

“Baby, I’ll be back before you know it. I can’t let this go.”

It almost made you cry again when you realized he knew you were concerned about him.

Looking up, you sigh you closing your eyes as his hand gently held your cheek.

“You’re my girl. I have to protect you.”

“I know.”

******

After slipping his suit jacket back on over his holster you knew what he was about to go and do. You were not ill. You and Roman had been together for two years. Over those two years, good and bad things. He kept what he could away from you. It was his life, his business it was him managing his slice of Gotham.

You were there to love and support him. You were not clueless, what happened today was stepping over the line. With your business you were supposed to be able to move freely around. Being with Roman made you safer and gave you a freedom, you didn’t have before.

So after parting, you went to the window and waited. Downstairs the rolls was idling.

*****

He glanced up to the window and saw your silhouette. He waved then he slid into back of the car.

His blood was rushing in his ears as he made his way to bastard’s place. He has done some dark things, but seeing you. Watching as the bruises formed and marred your beautiful face he grew ill. No one his girl and would get away with it.

He did not call anyone else, he wasn’t going to get the permission of the others. It was time to act. And he was going to send a fucking message.

*****

Everything went smoothly, he just right in. Knowing, where to go he strode right up to animals office. He stopped just outside the door. He unholstered one of his guns. Faintly he heard giggling, it made blood boil hotter.

Turning the knob, he practically strode. He immediately saw the fuck sitting behind the desk with some bimbo perched in front of him on his desk. She screamed.

He took a breath and gestured with his gun. “Get the fuck out of here.”

She jumped down and ran.

“Here to punish me for what I did?”

Roman aimed and shot him in the knee.

“Yes.”

The man screamed in agony, blood blossomed between his hands has he held his knee. Roman, quietly came around his desk.

“What were you going to do if you caught her?”

The man looked up at him with a slimy smirk. “Enjoy her screams...” The rest was a gargle as he shot him in the throat. Blood splattered his face.

Roman holstered his gun as the man flapped, grasping at his throat. Zsasz walked into the room, looking over at him he smiled.

“Make whatever is left of his life miserable and painful.”

******

After canceling the contract, you desperately tried to distract yourself. It wasn’t working. You didn’t want to fret any longer so you took a hot bath and changed into a silken dress. You wanted at the very least look good for Roman. Your heart swelled greatly knowing that he was defending your honor.

You brushed your hair and dabbed a touch of make up on. Spritzing on some perfume and you began to feel worlds better. You were feeling considerably better after being comforted by Roman.

Going to the bar, you went and poured him a drink. You made yourself one as well. Lounging on the sofa, you were sipping on your drink when you heard the gentle purr of the Rolls.

You waited just long enough and then went over to welcome Roman home.

He looked as sharp as ever.

“Welcome home.” You said softly. “I’m sure you need this.” You handed him the glass of scotch as you looked him over.

“Thank you sweetheart.” A smiled played on his lips as his eyes moved over you. A sound of contentment came from him as he took a sip. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close.

“Let’s get you more comfortable.”

As you poured him another scotch, you watched as he settled comfortably in his over stuffed chair. Placing the drink down beside him, you saw the splatter of blood across his face. He patted his lap. “One moment, Romy.” Going back to the bar you grabbed a glass filled it with seltzer and a soft cotton cloth.

Coming back over you happily took a seat in his lap. “Oh? Where’s you holster?”

He shrugged. “Downstairs, so Zsasz can clean it for another day.”

“Oh, good!” You smiled.

He rose an eyebrow, “Did I get something on my face?” His lips wrinkled in disgust.

You nodded. “May I?”

“Of course.” He rest a hand on your thigh as you sat and he closed his eyes.

It wasn’t long before the seltzer turned a rusty red, as you dipped and rubbed the cloth across the contours of his face. You eyed how his lashes on rested on his cheeks and how relax his lips sat, incredibly kissable, your stomach fluttered. At the moment, you resisted the urge to finish cleaning his face.

His eyes opened, the blue was a turbulent shade. “He’ll never bother you or anyone again.”

“Good.”

“Y/N...”

“Yes.”

He squeezed your thigh. “I hate that you had to go through that,” He grimaced. “You are strong. I am glad you got back here so I could then take care of you.”

“I’ll always come home to you.”

He smiled and the mood shifted in his eyes.

“You’re my hero.” You whispered and finally you couldn’t resist his mouth any further and you kissed him.

You winced, pulling back.

“Allow me?” His lips curled delightfully.

Confused, you nodded. “Of course.”

Gently he kissed you but his lips didn’t linger their and your hear sped up as his lips drifted till they met your jaw. “I will always protect my girl.” He whispered in your ear.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @nebulastarr @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @professionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-stories @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj @thebeckyjolene

[project-pnf-404]

Checkpoint and important updates 2!!: Electric boogaloo!!

Heyo guys!! Long time no talk. So, I’ve got some cool update stuff to show you guys. I’ve been doing a lot of blog “housekeeping” since the end of the last event. (don’t worry it hopefully won’t be boring update stuff lmao as it includes some new supplementary content). So, first and foremost, thanks to the inspiration from @koppais-smallest-nerd I’d like to let you guys know that I am now adding screen reader access to all future posts!!! This one included. At the bottom of each post under the, “read more”, image descriptions for all images will be added! Screen reader accessibility will also be added to all previous asks on the blog. However, getting through all of them will take a tiny bit. As, of this update, the first 4 asks have had image descriptions added. As well as all the supplementary content in between where applicable.

I’d also like to show you guys some supplementary content for the blog. Between these dashed lines are in character day 1 log entries written by the rest of the crew. 

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I originally wasn’t sure if I wanted to put these extra day 1 logs on the main blog or not. But, I’ve decided that all supplementary content that may be story related will remain on the main blog for the foreseeable future, while BTS content will end up on PNF-404-Plus.

That being said since the end of the 1st event and my time away from the blog a lot has been going on when it comes to the blog.

For one the entire desktop version of the blog has had a large overhaul. A new theme has been added to the main page.

But, not only that but new side pages with supplementary content have been added!! This includes an event list, a bio page for the crew members of the S.S Drake, a Piklopedia page for the new Piklopedia, and a music page to top it all off!!

The Event List will show each new event as they are added! You can click on the current known events to go directly to all posts tagged with that event tag. Speaking of which all Event 01 posts have now had their tags updated with the Event 01 tag making it much easier to navigate.

The new Crew Members page has bios for all the members currently on the mission or known in the story so far! These Bios are pretty in line with cannon with some fanon, and light headcanon added  in for good measure. I recommend taking a look as it does have some interesting info in there. Also quick note: all of these bios are written as if it is prior to the beginning of the blog.

Then there’s the Piklopedia!! Here you can read each of their findings as they explore PNF-404! Currently the findings will be on each area they explore (not each creature they find) as they haven’t found any new creatures yet. There is also a map of places they’ve discovered and more!

Lastly, a new music page has been added. On this page, I’ve created event-inspired music playlists. Some of the songs have been mentioned in the past. But, here you can listen to them all in one place and see which songs are for which part of the events. As well there’s a secret songs playlist. This playlist has nothing to do with the blog directly but is filled with music given to me by people I’ve met from this community while I’ve been here!! Currently, there are 5 songs there, however, there will be more added in the future! What makes it secret is that you won’t know who gave me the song XD. (well unless you’re the one who gave me the song lmao) who knows if you’ve ever shared music with me before you may find your song there!! (There is also one song I’m sharing with you guys in there too so have fun figuring that out lmao. )

As well the table of contents has been once again updated with a lot of this new stuff as well as some other new information!! As for mobile users as of now, all of this is on separate Tumblr pages. However, in the near future, I will be uploading much of this stuff , such as the Piklopedia entries and Crew Bio’s, as individual posts! However, in the meantime, if you feel like you can always check out these pages on your phone browser instead if you’re a mobile-exclusive user. (Though some pages don’t look as good on phone)

Welp, I think that’s it as far as updates go!! I should be back with brand new ask posts soon (likely within the next week or so!) so keep a look out!! I’ll see ya guys again soon and thanks for reading!!!

{{ Screen reader image description is under “read more”}}

In the first image,  Alph’s Day 1 Log entry is shown. His log says, “To think I thought the first day would go well. Then again I didn’t think I would get sucked out of the ship either so maybe I should stop being so surprised. At the very least Louie and I were able to find our way back despite some obstacles and I was able to fix the ship in time. Though if it weren’t for Chunks we would have never found the pikmin we did. That little guy sure saved the day. 

However, Then there's what happened to Brittany… To see her in a situation like that... I can’t even bear to think about it. Tomorrow I will be checking over the entirety of the Drake to make sure a crash like that doesn't happen again. I can't help but think that the crash was due to me overlooking something during maintenance... However, The only thing I can do now is to make sure something like this never happens again for all our sake, especially Brittanys’. “ It is then sighed by Alph

In the second Image Charlies Day 1 Log entry can be read it says, “I should have been on top of things. As this crew’s captain, everything that went wrong was under my watch and things should have gone much smoother. That being said I am very glad that all of my crew have made it out alive. Though I am still worried about Brittany. If only I was able to keep her safe…

 But, at this point, we all must press forward. We have a task to complete and after seeing how devastated some areas are, we must get to the bottom of what’s wrong with PNF-404. Nothing will get in my way, not with my steely fists that is!!” It is then signed by  Charlie

In the third image Louies’ day 1 log entry can be seen it says, 

“

Going back to the pikmin planet wasn’t at the top of my list of things I thought I’d be doing anytime soon. Yet somehow I find myself back here and stranded again…. At least I wasn’t fully alone this time…

Alph and I eventually found a pikmin that we later named Chunks. He sure acts differently in comparison to any other Pikmin I’ve seen before. But, even still, if it weren’t for Chunks, we wouldn’t have been able to help Brittany or find any other pikmin for that matter. So, we should thank him for that.” It is then signed by Louie

In the fourth image the updated version of the Project: PNF-404 Tumblr is shown. It now has a bright cyan futuristic aesthetic to it. In the fifth image a picture of the new events page, listing all the past and future events planned so far is shown. It has 1 known event Titled Event 01. The other 3 are titled Event unknown. In the sixth image, the new crew members’ character page is shown. A picture of Olimar is shown along with a description of his traits and a biography. It reads as follows, 

CAPTAIN OLIMAR

AGE 38

ALIAS(ES)Olimar

SPECIES Hocotatian

GENDER Male

TITLE(S) Employee of Hocotate Freight, Xenobiologist

AFFILIATION Hocotate Freight, Planet Hocotate Government

Fatherly, well-meaning, and resourceful, for an almost 40 year old Hocotatian he has a lot of bravery and guts. Olimar first and foremost loves his family and cares deeply for others around him. A Hardworking employee of Hocotate Freight and family man, Olimar tends to try and stay level-headed while looking out for others.

Having been one of the first to visit the Pikmin planet Olimar has extensive knowledge of the planet's life. Lucky for him he just so happens to have gone to college for xenobiology. Many of his findings can be found within his many log entries known as the Piklopedia.

But, for as much as Olimar tends to be on top of things, his trips to the pikmin planet have had him face many dangers and life-threatening events. Though these issues are not something he brings up…

In the seventh image, The new Piklopidea page is shown, In one section it displays a map of PNF-404 with 2 marked locations. The first of which is highlighted in blue is named the “Silent Stream” the second, is highlighted in orange, Its title is “Glacial Gardens”. To the right of that is a description introduction for the Piklopedia. It says” To help ensure the progress and success of this mission all crew members must write down their findings in this log. Overview: 

CAPTAIN Olimar: Writes In-depth biological analysis of fauna and how the ecosystem affects said fauna.

LOUIE: Writes about Recipes and ingredients that can be found in each area. ALPH: Looks at the area with the eyes of an engineer. He uses this insight to discuss the benefits and flaws of what he’s analyzing. BRITTANY: Uses her botanist skills to look into the flora of the area along with talking about the aesthetics of things and adding in her own general opinions.

CAPTAIN CHARLIE: Writes about combat strategy and how one can use the environment in an area for a tactical advantage.

To the left is a map showing the current locations discovered by the crew. The one highlighted in orange has yet to be explored.

The final image shows the new music page! 6 playlists can be selected on the left each having 5 songs. To the right is an image of the event 01 cover art. With (from left to right), Brittnay, Charlie, Olimar, Louie, and Alph all looking up with a distressed expression on their faces. 

END ID

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Febuwhump 24: Memory Loss

This is in fact an AU, but I'm not telling you what it's based on yet because yeah.

Summary: The kids go to the mall. Things take a turn.

Trigger Warnings: none

1258 words

The doorbell rang, prompting an explosion of footsteps running down the stairs.

“Lena and Violet are here!” Webby squealed, the other three behind her. She opened the door, and as the two stepepd in, the others were greeted with Violet speaking rapidfire, similar to Webby when she got particularly excited.

“You will not believe this,” she said, “there’s this huge shopping mall not too far from here that we just heard about, and it’s got this book store I’ve been wanting to go to forever, and… sorry, I am very excited. Hello Webbigail! How are you today?”

Webby laughed, hugging the sisters in greeting. “We should go to that mall!” she said, “it sounds like a lot of fun!”

“I’m down,” Lena said. “I’ve never really been to a mall before.”

“Never?” Dewey gasped, practically appearing out of thin air beside her. “We’ve got to go!”

Thirty minutes later found them doing just that, the little group entering the shopping mall in awe. It was massive, definitely bigger than any mall the triplets had ever seen before. Natural light came in through various skylights, illuminating the place beautifully. A huge fountain sat towards the middle of the place, a couple kids throwing in coins.

“Whoa…”

“Tell me about it.”

“If only we had, like, money,” Dewey said, staring at all the shops in wonder.

“Oh yeah… money is important,” Webby agreed, thinking for a moment. “I… am broke. Does anyone have anything?”

“My allowance is not very large,” Violet frowned. “Perhaps I should have taken that into account before suggesting we come here. It won’t be a very good time if we can’t buy anything.”

“Hello, children!”

The group jumped, turning around to find a tall adult duck standing behind them.

“Oh, I do apologize. I didn’t intend to startle you,” he said.

“Who are you?” Louie asked.

“Oh, silly me! I’m Mr. A, the general manager of this mall. And I couldn’t help but overhear about your little… money problem,” he said, chuckling.

“What about it?” Huey asked, frowning.

“Well, as the man in charge, as it were, I’ve been put in the unique position to help you out of your… financial predicament.”

“How, exactly?”

“I can offer you these,” he said, holding up a number of golden credit card looking things. “Special membership cards. They’re as good as gold in any of our fine stores.” He handed out one to each of them, that same customer service smile on his face the entire time.

“You’re just giving them away?” Dewey asked increduously.

“How do you know we’ll pay you back?” Louie added, frowning.

“The good patrons of this mall always pay us back,” Mr. A replied easily. “Now, I have to go take care of some manager business, you kids have fun!” he said, patting Huey on the head before turning and beginning to walk away.

Huey grumbled quietly, fixing his hat. “Why would he just give them to us?” he mumbled, staring at his card in bewilderment.

“Beats me, but who am I if not the person who’s about to take advantage of this mall’s stupidity — I mean, er, generosity.” Louie said.

“Last one to find something awesome is a rotten egg!” Dewey exclaimed, running into the nearest store.

“Hey, no fair, you got a head start!” Webby shouted, chasing after him.

Huey frowned. The mall was pretty new, they probably did this to attract customers. He slipped his card under his hat, following the others into the store they’d chosen.

———

“I usually prefer libraries,” Violet was saying as she and Lena entered a massive bookstore inside the mall. “But I’ve heard that this store has a particularly old book that I can’t find anywhere else, so I’m willing to make an exception.”

Lena nodded, poking around the shelves of the store herself. She wasn’t quite as into reading as her sister or Webby, but it could be fun, she supposed. She wouldn’t mind a spell book or two, if they had any.

By the time they made their way to the register, Violet had a whole stack of books in her arms. Lena raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, well… they had a few books I was wanting to purchase,” Violet said, flushing.

Lena laughed. “No judgement! Are there any shopping baskets? You really shouldn’t be carrying all of that around.”

Before they could begin to look for one, a man popped up behind the register, startling Lena so bad that she almost dropped the singular book that she was holding onto.

“My apologies!” he chirped.

Lena frowned. “Mr. A?” God, that man was good at scaring the shit out of people.

“Aren’t you the manager of the whole mall?” Violet asked.

“I am, yes. My cashier here had a bit of a personal emergency, so I’m filling in for an hour or two over here. What good am I as a manager if I don’t see to it that my employees are treated well, hmm?”

Violet smiled. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” she said, carefully placing her books on the countertop.

He began to ring them up, swiping the gold card Violet handed him.

“Oh, I’m afraid you’ve maxed out,” he said, handing the card back to her.

“Oh… I can put some of the books back—”

“Just charge it to my card,” Lena said, handing over her own.

“Thank you!” Violet said, smiling brightly.

“No problem, sis.”

A beeping sound from the computer rang out. “Your card has reached its limit as well.”

Lena stared at him blankly, then looked back at Violet. “How expensive are those books?”

“I’ll just put some back,” Violet said, reaching for one.

“Oh, there will be no need,” Mr. A said, smiling a little bit too wide.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, dear Violet, that It’s time for you two to pay.”

———

“What did you guys get?” Dewey asked, bouncing in excitement as he held his purchase close to his chest.

“Glitter!” Webby responded immediately, pulling one of the tubes out of her bag.

“Oh, fun…” Louie mumbled.

“I got a new pair of tap shoes!” Dewey exclaimed.

“Oh no,” Huey said.

“Oh yes!” Dewey exclaimed.

“I got some phone accessories,” Louie said. “And a pair of headphones that have cat ears on them.”

“Awesome!” Webby cried, “Can I see?”

“What did you get, Huey?” Dewey asked, plowing forward and invading his personal space, just to be annoying.

“Nothing,” Huey shrugged. “I’m trying to be responsible with my money. If I save up, I can buy my own car by the time I’m 16!”

“Boring,” Dewey grumbled.

“Financial security isn’t boring!” Huey cried, offended.

“We’re related to the literal richest duck in the world, I think we’re safe,” Dewey said.

“So? I still want to buy my own car!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“We should go,” Louie said, “it’s getting late.”

The others nodded their agreement.

“I feel like we’re forgetting something,” Webby said, glancing around the mall as they headed for the exit.

Huey frowned. “Got your phone? Wallet? What else did you come in with?”

“No, none of that. I don’t know what it is, I just… feel like we’re forgetting something.” She just couldn’t figure out what, and it was unsettling her. Would she have remembered if it was really that important? Hmm…

As they passed two mannequins showing off a striped grey sweater and a green turtleneck respectively, Webby stopped to check her bag. “Everything’s here,” she announced after a moment. “Huh, I guess I imagined it.”

They went on their way.

[the-writer-nerd-ro]

Hoooo boy things are getting serious now. This is where I think the plot begins to diverge most from the original plot @whisperwillyou came up with. But now Donald has seen part of his family, he knows they're out there. He's gonna get a little more desperate, and it's gonna have some unintended consequences.

Let me know if you want to be tagged when this updates, or if you want to stop being tagged.

Chapters 1, 2, and 3

Ghost Ship

Chapter 4

Scrooge was on deck with the others when the ship crashed.

“What did we hit?” Huey asked, picking himself back up.

“I don’t know,” Scrooge admitted, looking around, “Is everyone alright?”

“I’m fine,” Webby said, and Huey flashed a thumbs up. Della didn’t say anything, looking a little freaked out. She’d never been the biggest fan of the ocean, now she had other reasons to feel scared. She hadn’t had the best dreams last night either.

“I’m going to check on the boys,” Della said, disappearing downstairs towards the kids’ bunk.

"Huey, Webby, come with me. I need to speak to the captain."

Huey and Webby nodded, ready to begin a serious investigation, one that was hopefully linked to their ghost hunt, which didn't sound as serious or as real as the fact that the boat had clearly run into something.

"Maybe we ran into a mystical barrier, maybe we'll have to communicate with merpeople again," Webby said excitedly, her eyes full of wonder.

"I hope we didn't hit a reef," Huey fretted, "A ship this size could cause irreversible damage to an entire coral ecosystem."

"I'm sure there's a much simpler, safer explanation," Scrooge said.

"I can't believe no one is freaking out," Huey commented, noticing a lack of crew members screaming about mystical barriers or coral reefs.

"Ah, they've probably dealt with the whole ghost thing so much that they're used to this by now," Webby said. Huey nodded, she was probably right it just made him feel a little uneasy.

"I wish mom hadn't left," Huey admitted. The ship was spooky when it was silent, save for the waves that splashed against the sides.

"Aye," Scrooge agreed, "But she needed to check on the others." It felt like they were looping through the same corridors, searching for the captain. Searching for anyone. They hadn't passed a single soul.

"Something's wrong," Huey said, looking around, "Where is everyone else? We interviewed a lot of people yesterday. They can't all be gone."

"I'm sure they're all around here somewhere," Scrooge said, putting a comforting hand on Huey's shoulder and then reaching for Webby as well. He knew his nephew was right, something was wrong. But right now he had to protect them from that. He had to convince them that everything would be okay.

Webby was getting a little suspicious as well. She wished that Lena and Violet had joined them, Lena had practical magic know-how and Violet was well-versed in everything else. If her girls were here she'd definitely feel a little bit more confident, especially since Louie and Dewey had been out of it the entire trip.

Huey and Webby began to lag behind Scrooge, who definitely noticed and was definitely listening to their conversation.

"Doesn't this freak you out? We've searched the whole ship and we haven't seen a single person."

Webby was careful with her answer, "It's definitely weird, but like Uncle Scrooge said, I'm sure they're around here somewhere."

"Do you really believe that? We're dealing with ghosts, we don't know what they're capable of."

"Well, we know some stuff! We've encountered the spirit world before. Spirits and tulpas, a whole other realm of existence.”

Huey let out a shaky sigh. He didn’t like all of the unknowns, it was all getting a bit overwhelming.

“I hope the others are okay,” Huey said.

“I’m sure they will be,” Webby said cheerfully, “We’re going to solve this mystery, and then we’re basically on vacation.”

“That’s right,” Scrooge agreed, “There’s nothing this family can’t handle.”

Huey bit his lip, thinking about his nightmares from the night before of Uncle Donald drowning in a midnight sea. There were some things that this family couldn’t handle. Some things they hadn’t recovered from.

Scrooge was getting very worried after they searched the entire ship and still couldn’t find any crew members. He was worried that there was dark magic going on here, something far worse than spirits meddling with an unwanted birthday party.

“Kids, stay close to me,” Scrooge requested, and Huey and Webby rushed to keep up with them

“I counted the number of lifeboats when we first got on, if anyone got off I’d be able to tell,” Huey said.

“Good idea, lad.” Scrooge hoped that there could be a logical, non-magical explanation for this but he seriously doubted it. Still, they’d try Huey’s idea, then rendezvous with the others and form a game plan.

Huey’s theory was immediately disproven. The lifeboats hadn’t been touched.

“So, from what we can see, the crew is no longer on board,” Scrooge said slowly, “and there doesn't seem to be a logical explanation, so we need to look for a supernatural explanation. This is different from what we were expecting when we took on this mystery but if we stick together, we’re going to figure this out and make sure everyone makes it out okay. There’s no reason to panic.”

Scrooge’s stirring speech almost convinced Webby and Huey. This was a setback but they’d get past it and restore the crew to reality. Super easy, barely an inconvenience.

Scrooge knocked on the door to the kids’ room, “Della? Boys? Can we talk a moment?” No answer. No sound except the waves lapping against the ship.

“Della? Boys?” Scrooge asked again before heaving the door open, revealing a hauntingly empty room. There was suddenly a reason to panic.