#(maybe he kills her 15 minutes in and takes her life over) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itsgrimeytime · 7 months ago

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feelin' flirty || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: Being a long-lost friend of Maggie's, you wind up at the prison, a line of dead walkers behind you. You are promptly confronted with one Rick Grimes, and it's suddenly your life's goal to flirt with him as much as you can. Rick doesn't usually respond, but what if one day he does?

TWs: innuendos, talk of sex, shameless (and I mean shameless) flirting, mention of both Beth and Hershel's deaths, gunshot wound, blood, guns, knives, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Tumblr has deleted this THREE times. I am furious, hello??? Also, someone should've been hardcore flirting with Rick, I'll say it. That's what this is based on. Do I have social anxiety? Yes, but am I still writing this? I am. Don't ask questions. ALSO, I do not know the TWD timeline at all, so I am making it up, thank you. Enjoy :))) ]]

With one last stab, you finished off the last... zombie? You didn't really call them anything, since you were alone. Maybe you should think about that a little more.

Wordlessly, you turned and stabbed another square in the head. Undead? No. Zombie? No, too cliché-

Another one.

It went on like that for a few more minutes, before you took a breath -with no answer to your question. Frowning at your knife being covered in... guts, for lack of a better word, you crouched down and wiped it on the grass.

What was that, 15? You didn't really count, but you should have. You were trying to get a new personal best actually-

"Hey!"

You froze, pocketing your knife, before spinning on your heel. The voice was fairly distant, so you weren't worried. Instead, close enough for it to matter, was a big building with high walls and barbed wire at the top of them. A prison. Huh.

"Up here!" The voice called again, and you startled.

Shading your eyes from the sun, you looked up into the watchtower, and sure enough, there was a silhouette. A guy, you think, with dark hair. That was about all you could say.

"Yeah?" You called back, curiously.

"That was cool as shit!"

You laughed out, probably for the first time in months, "Thank you, mysterious stranger!"

"Glenn!" He clarified.

Huh, you pursed your lips, before responding, "Y/N!"

"Nice to meet you!"

You laughed again, before feeling a pain in your stomach. When was the last time you'd eaten? You paused, trying to think. Three days ago (there was a box of Twinkies that hadn't expired yet in a stranded supermarket). Not great.

"Hey, Glenn?" You yelled, a little hopeful.

"Yeah?"

You pursed your lips, before deciding -taking a chance, really, "You got any food in there?"

Now, you were walking through the gate, which was a little dramatic. But, you kinda liked it. It felt like you were kind of a big deal, well, until there was a swarm of eyes on you. All different kinds.

You froze, licking across your teeth.

And then, a man ran up to your side -gasping a little. Was that Glenn? How did he-

He offered his hand to shake, and you accepted it -looking at the crowd, a little defensively.

"Are they going to kill me? Or...?"

"Shit," he turned to them, "-They just want some food, guys, c'mon!"

None of them even flinched.

"I don't bite," you joked, before frowning, "-shit. That was in bad taste-"

And then, a voice called out into the tense air.

"Y/N?"

You peeked over heads, looking, because-

Your eyes locked onto hers, and you nearly jumped in place -big smile blooming along your lips, "Holy shit, Mags?!"

You'd been friends, back in high school. You'd left junior year and tried to keep in touch. It just didn't work out. (You can't even remember now if it was her or you who stopped, at this point.)

Before she could so much as reply, you ran to her -arms wide open. She eagerly reciprocated, spinning a little with the force -you'd gotten pretty good at running at this point.

"What the fuck?" You breathed into her shoulder, and she laughed big and loud, "-What are the chances?"

With a thought, you pulled back -still holding her shoulders, "Are your Dad and Beth here?"

"Yeah," she cheered, and something in you felt relieved. Thank god, they were okay.

"And, you?" She offered, a little hesitantly -notable lack at your side.

You pressed your lips together, swallowing, and shook your head, "Been alone since the beginning."

Maggie frowned, hand coming up to rest on your arm and squeezing once.

"Only lived with my boyfriend," you explained, eager to lighten the mood, "-and he actually cheated on me, so. Wasn't the worst lost."

She laughed a little, before asking -carefully, "And your family?"

Something in your chest stung, you wordlessly shook your head. (Visions of unhinged jaws and blood filling it.)

She frowned, whispering her apologies before hugging you again. You leaned into it that time.

And then, you jumped back, excited, "You have to bring me to your family, Mags, it's been so long-"

"Ya 'ave to talk to Rick first," a voice grumbled out behind you.

You spun on your heel, facing a man. Tall, brunette, dark eyes, arms crossed in front of him (strong, you noted), but you could tell in his stance. He was a layer of stone walls, and you did not want to mine.

And then, your eyes smoothed across his back. Is that a fucking crossbow? Sick.

"Whose Rick?" You asked instead, Maggie still holding your arm.

"Whose askin'?"

That, was a good voice. Was your first thought as you turned back around, and your eyes landed on a figure.

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

He was tall, stood like he owned the place (and based on the recommendation, maybe he did), all broad shoulders and strong gaze. Speaking of gaze, he had probably the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. And his hair was brown and curly, a few hung forward on his face. His jaw was unspeakable, and his button-up shirt had a few extra buttons undone to account for the heat. Holy shit.

Maggie elbowed you, and you blinked.

"Uh, me," you answered, clearing your throat -motioning to Glenn, "-he said you had some food and I'm... hungry."

Maggie promptly stomped on your toe. You pressed your lips together trying not to laugh, carefully looking over his face to see if he'd picked up on it at all. Nothing. A shame, really.

Oh well, maybe next time.

"Look, Rick," she interrupted your thoughts, "-I know 'em, really well. Y/N is a good person."

Rick's eyes dipped to you, looking you over. Oh, the words were right there on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy-

You're trying to survive, Y/N, your mind pressed, focus.

You bit at your lip, but before you could speak for yourself, Glenn did.

"I saw 'em take on a swarm outside," he added, eyes darting to Maggie (Huh.), "-without breaking a sweat."

There are other things I can do without breaking a sweat, your brain immediately remarked, this really was too easy.

Rick seemed to think about it a second, before turning to you, "Ya got a gun?"

I'd like to be loaded with-

"No," you cleared your throat, pulling out your knife (it was one of those multicolored ones, it's why you liked it clean), "-just this."

He hummed, tilting his head with a mouth shrug, "'At's impressive."

I bet your-

You pinched your arm, swallowing, "So, what? Am I in or not?"

Rick's eyes flicked up and down you again (so easy), before he decided, "Ya can stay."

That brings you to now, sitting with Maggie outside with a can of baked beans and a spoon in your hands.

You currently had quite the view of Rick working on the farm, sweat dripping down his brow, strained arms. You'd never thought about farming in that way, but now you were.

"Is his full name Richard?" You asked, curiously.

Maggie turned to you, watching the trail of your eyes to see what you were looking at. She rolled her eyes, "I don't know."

You put a spoonful into your mouth, humming around it, "There's a reason they call them 'Dick', you know."

"Oh my god," she shoved into you -making you laugh a little. You stared down into your can.

"I'm just saying," you stressed, "-he's hot enough for it."

Maggie paused a second, before deciding to say, "His wife died."

"Shit," your smile fell.

"Died in childbirth," she continued, something distant in her eyes -you wondered what exactly it was.

"How long ago?" You asked gently, looking at him in a new light -sympathizing.

"Few months," she answered, a little shortly. You pursed your lips, debating whether to say anything. Or if you even should.

Maggie clarified, herself, "I delivered the baby. Judith, her name is Judith."

"Fuck, Mags," you fully turned to her, putting the can by your feet, "-I'm so sorry."

She took a deep breath in and out, and you wrapped an arm around her shoulders pushing her into your side, "Thanks."

"No problem," you hummed, picking your can back up and letting your eyes drift to Rick again, adding, "-I'm great with babies, you know."

"You're ridiculous," she laughed, taking the bite you offered her.

"What?" You asked, "-Staring isn't bad. He's practically a piece of art, I'm just..."

He turned to the two of you then, blue eyes flickering along your faces -you did not move your gaze at all.

Instead, you gently waved, finishing, "-admiring him."

Rick furrowed his eyebrows for a second, waving back, and then, shaking his head smiling. Count that as a win.

You gnawed at your lip a second, "Do you think he picked up on my 'hungry' thing? I was looking at him and I-"

Maggie laughed, "He definitely did. Everyone did, Y/N, you're shameless."

"It's the apocalypse," you urged, "-who gives a fuck about shame anymore? Rick is hot, and as long as he lets me, I will flirt with him. The more you resist, the more I commit. You remember James in first period?"

She hummed, "I do."

"I chased him for half a year," you continued, swirling the spoon around the can, "-and it worked, didn't it? Guys hardly get properly flattered," your eyes dipped back to him, tone going low, "-I don't mind taking on that duty for the population."

Maggie laughed again, as you just kept your eyes on him. He had dirt on his hands now, wiping at his brow, and just a few curls hung forward on his forehead. God, how did you find him in the apocalypse?

"How valiant," she deadpanned, "-You're a real hero."

"Look, just because you have a type, Glenn, and you bagged him-"

"How did you-"

"Please," you teased, "-he practically ate you earlier with his eyes. Back to my point, I, at least, get to look."

She turned to you, "Ya don't want to date him?"

"Who said that, Mags?" You smirked, turning to her with a smile with eyes that spoke for themselves.

"You know he has kids, right?" She questioned, looking at you.

"So?" you waved the spoon around in your hand, "-Single dads? Hot. Kids? Cute. Where's the loss?"

Maggie looked at you a moment, before shaking her head, "You are clinically insane."

"Maybe," you offered, still watching him, "-but the world's fucked up too. So, at least, I'm not alone."

She laughed really hard at that one, and you felt eyes all over switch to you. Blue ones too. People didn't really seem to laugh around here, so you decided that was your mission too, get people to laugh more. Maybe they could go hand-in-hand.

Time to get to work.

Daryl was sitting across from you, you'd been bugging him for the past few weeks and he'd finally relented. It wasn't easy, but you were nothing if not persistent (hence the Rick situation). Or maybe stubborn. Both? Whatever.

"Daryl, listen," you pointed out, "-you have to take time to load up the bow."

"'At don't mean nothin'," he countered.

"It does," you stressed, explaining, "-in the amount of time it takes you to put in a new arrow, I would have killed at least two."

Daryl rolled his eyes, "It doesn't take 'at long."

"Who said it takes me long to kill two walkers?"

Rick walked by then, and Daryl stopped him.

"Rick, please, take 'em away from me," he spoke out, gruff, but something in you could tell that he wasn't being serious. The guy wasn't half the mystery you expected him to be.

Rick laughed a little at the plea, eyes on you, "What are ya doin' to him?"

"It's not that bad," you laughed, explaining, "-I was just talking about if we were pit against each other to kill the most walkers in a minute. And who would win."

"An' ya want me to help decide?"

"Daryl does," you clarified, "-I am fully confident in my abilities."

Rick laughed a little (another win), "Well, I kno' Daryl's skills, so tell me yours, so it's even."

You bit at your lip, debating. God, it would be so easy. All you had to do was-

"Well," you smiled, playfully, "-I'm told I'm very good with my hands."

He blinked, and it was silent a moment before you heard a snort beside you. You immediately flung to look at him, you had just made Daryl laugh-

"No way," you stressed out, throwing yourself to your feet -pointing at him, "-you just laughed at me."

Daryl pressed his lips together into a thin line, sniffing once, "No, I didn't."

You spun to Rick, and he was already looking at you, you didn't think about it too much.

"Rick," you begged, "-c'mon. I know you and him are like... buddies, but I-"

"Buddies?" He quirked a brow, smiling. Something stirred in your stomach.

"Look, I don't fucking know," you rolled your eyes, "-just agree with me."

He bit down a smile at you, before turning to Daryl, "Ya did laugh at 'em."

"Ha," you cheered, "-I made Daryl Dixon laugh. And, I would win against you."

"He didn't say 'at," Daryl instantly defended.

"Didn't have to, Dixon," you mocked, playfully, "-it's about time management."

"Time management?" Rick questioned curiously.

"Okay, think of this, Rick," you explained, leveling him with your full focus (god he was handsome), "-when you fight with a bow, or a gun for that matter, you have to reload."

He grinned a little at you.

"Follow me, follow me," you hummed, pulling out your knife, "-when you have a physical sort of attack method, like a knife, you don't have that same time issue."

"Ya kinda do though," he interjected.

You paused, looking at him -thoughtfully, "How so?"

"Body's gotta build up energy again," he reasoned (with too much thought for this dumb conversation, smart too? god has favorites), "-Stamina is key to attackin'."

You rolled your lip in between your teeth, he had to be doing this on purpose at this point. Seriously.

"Trust me, sheriff," you spoke -a teeny bit teasing but otherwise very genuine, "-there is no problem with my stamina."

Rick bit back a laugh, turning his head to the side and smiling. You thought you saw a little red on the tips of his ears. Cute. You were unraveling the layers of one Rick Grimes, that was progress.

Daryl didn't even try to hide it that time, letting a gruff chuckle leave his lips, "'M glad I'm not your focus for 'at."

You patted his shoulder, standing up, "It'll be devastating one day, Robin Hood. Don't come crying to me when it is."

"Did ya just call me Robin Hood?"

Rick laughed at that one, head tilting up to the sky. You smiled wide.

"Look at that," you hummed, proud, "-a two for one. Which-"

They both looked at you, but you stuck to your guns. And you smirked a little.

"-honestly, I would not mind," you added -thoughtfully, "-Think about it, and get back to me."

You walked backward a few steps, watching as Rick smiled at you before turning back to fix his gaze on Daryl. Smiling at the ground, you spun on your heel, and went off to find someone else to pester.

You felt a pair of eyes follow you though, and you maybe grinned a little brighter.

Now, you were wandering off on your own. On your own run, you liked to do that sometimes. Maggie nearly had a heart attack because of it, but what damage you did get was usually minor. Except for once, but that wasn't your fault. Well it was, you smashed a window with your fist to see if you could do it. And you could, which was impressive.

Now, you were strolling through an old novelty store -little knick-knacks. Finding some figurines, you grabbed a superhero one and stashed it away. Your eyes caught on a DVD player, the kind for both music and movies, and you picked it up -turning it over in your hands. Battery powered.

On a mission to find both DVDs and some batteries, you roamed through some aisles -particularly a mug one.

Peeking through at some of them, you paused. Taking your pack off and slipping the DVD player into it (along with the few good DVDs you found, no batteries though) on top of some canned food you'd found, you zipped it up. And with a breath, grabbed a mug.

Smiling big, you made your way out of the store.

When you got back to the prison, Maggie was waiting for you -tapping her feet, anxiously. She was a little like a mother, you weren't sure how you felt about it. But you loved her so, you dealt with it.

"Hey Mags," you cheered, mug handle twisted between your fingers.

She instantly relaxed, eyes scanning you over before dropping to the mug. She frowned.

"Please, tell me-"

"I got some food," you sighed, "-I'm not entirely useless."

She pursed her lips, "And the mug?"

You grinned, holding it up for her to see -tapping your fingers along both sides. Her eyes skimmed over it before she frowned (biting back a smile, you could tell).

"Seriously?" She asked.

"What?" You responded, groaning, "-I can't get gifts?"

She shoved into your side, and before you could take too many steps, you were met with your target -leaning against the fence, few steps from Maggie. Was he waiting for you too?

"Rick," you dropping your hands, particularly to avoid him from reading the text, "-what are you doing here?"

"Ya do 'at a lot?" He asked, a little pointedly. You thought you recognized something a little like worry in it, "-Go off on your own?"

Huh.

"Yeah," you laughed a little, "-you haven't noticed? I've been getting like... half the food we have."

Rick hummed (a little in appreciation) before his eyes dropped to your hands, "And what's 'at?"

"A gift," you extended it to him, unflinchingly.

He pulled himself from his spot on the wall, walking forward and accepting it. His fingers (great fingers, really. Was that weird to say?) wrapping around it, you noticed for a second that your fingers brushed -your breath halted a little in place.

"A mug?" He asked looking at you for a second, eyebrows furrowed.

You took your hand, and spun it around in his hands -brushing his skin against yours, "The other side."

He smiled a little, laughing.

Right there on a rather plain mug, were the words '#1 HOT DAD'.

He bit back a smile, eyes peeking up at you again, "Ya really ain't gonna let 'is go, are ya?"

"Nope," you popped the 'p', before clarifying, "-unless you want me to."

Rick licked a line against his teeth, grinning a little with something in his eye, "Who said 'at?"

"Noted," you smiled back, something fluttering in your chest, "-now, where's Carl? I got him something good."

"Ya got him somethin' too?"

He was looking at you a little curiously, like he was seeing new layers of you. You kind of wanted to squirm a little at his gaze. You were not used to people figuring you out.

You sighed, quickly turning your pack to the front and unzipping it. With a breath, you dug around and pulled out the figurine -Rick's eyes caught on it immediately. A small smile creeping along his mouth.

"He told me once he liked comics," you clarified, clearing your throat, "-figured he would like this. You... You think he will?"

"He'll love it," he answered, something new in his eyes, "-C'mon, I'll take ya to him."

On the way there, he seemed to pause a moment, something on his mind. You patiently waited for him to say it.

"'Saw somethin' else in 'ere," he mindlessly remarked, as the mug swung between his fingers "-What is it?"

"Oh," you pulled your pack foward again, excited, extending the figurine to him for safekeeping (he took it with a smile), "-a DVD player."

You held it in your hands, showing to him.

"Found some DVDs, good ones," you continued, before putting it back in your bag, and accepting the figurine back (your fingers brushed again), "-no batteries though."

Rick hummed, pursing his lips like he was thinking about something. He didn't say a word though.

You didn't have much time to think about it, because a few days after that, the prison fell. You'd escaped with Rick and Carl, but you weren't exactly yourself. Not after everything.

There was Judith, and Maggie, and... and Beth and Hershel. Every day felt like there was bile turning in your stomach; every time you closed your eyes, you saw someone... someone dead.

You were lying against the grass, looking up at the stars -it was still so pretty. Despite it all, the sky was still the same. Bright and twinkly. It was when everyone was on the road, wandering for a place to go. You just couldn't sleep, so you took it upon yourself to just look at the sky. You thought the clouds might be pretty, but the night was a little breathtaking.

"Ya awake?"

You didn't say a word.

"C'mon, Y/N, I know ya are."

"Yeah, I am," you sighed, saying shortly, "-Can't sleep."

There was an echo of footsteps, and then you felt body heat beside you. There was a beat.

"Ya ain't gonna say anythin'?" Rick hummed, turning his head to face you.

You matched his eyes (he's probably more handsome now, honestly), "About what?"

"Me, ya know," he motioned, to your side, "-layin' with ya."

You laughed at him a little, before teasing, "Awe, you miss it, don't you, sheriff?"

"Not a sheriff anymore," he hummed, something a little heavy in his voice.

"Eh," you shrugged, looking back to the stars, "-you still are in my mind."

Rick smiled at you, wordlessly.

Before you added, plainly, "Mostly because I love a man in uniform."

He laughed then, big and bright, and you felt something warm in your chest that you knew but hadn't felt in a while.

You wanted to be genuine, really genuine.

"You are a good man, Rick," you turned to look at him, and he looked straight back, "-We've all done shit we never should've, and maybe it's fucked us up a little bit, moved our path in the wrong direction once or twice, but-"

You looked back up to the sky, still feeling his eyes on you. It was kind of like a dream, like the apocalypse wasn't real for a second, just you and Rick. And maybe you wanted that a lot more than you knew.

"-you've got a big heart, Rick," you finished, soundly, "-And even if sometimes you lose sight of what you're doing, or maybe who you are, that... that doesn't change."

Rick didn't say anything for a moment, words echoing out into the night air. You couldn't find it in yourself to regret them, though. You never really regret what you said these days, there was no reason too.

You really only regret what you didn't say. Maybe to people who aren't around anymore. Your heart sunk a little in your chest, but it felt a little lighter -just a smidgen. (Maybe because of who you were with.)

"I got somethin' for ya," Rick suddenly spoke, sitting up (you followed suit).

You furrowed your eyebrows, "You got me something? When?"

Mindlessly, he replied, "On the last run."

You pursed your lips but waited patiently. He moved over to his pack, unzipping one of his pockets and pulling something out -you couldn't quite see. Trying to peek you moved over a little, but nothing.

With a breath, he stood back up and waltzed over to you (somehow he made walking hot, they needed to research that), extending it forward right into your face.

You blinked, gently taking it into your hands and looking at it closely. It was dark so you couldn't really-

Batteries. He handed you a pack of AA batteries.

"No way," you laughed out, "-you remembered that?"

"I remember a lot of what ya say," he offered casually, and you felt something shoot down your spine. And with a breath, he sat right beside you, so close your knees bumped a little.

Pulling your bag over to you, you dug around in it. You'd kept the DVD player and DVDs, not really with the hope of finding batteries. But, to feel a little human, remember life before.

You'd taken to putting stickers on it when you saw any, so the top of it was covered in an assortment. You ran your fingers over it a second, taking it in, before flipping it over. Popping open the little tab, you let out a breath of relief when it was AAs.

Rick laughed.

"I was going to be so pissed if it wasn't," you spoke, "-you have no idea."

He just looked at you then, in a way you'd seen before but never really thought about. You turned back to your bag, shuffling around to find your stash.

"You want music or a movie?"

"Movie's fine," he hummed, and you still felt his eyes trained solely on you. You tried to shake it off.

"Let's see," you pulled out a few of the movies you had, showing them to Rick, "-I've got... a kid's animated movie, or... a... cheesy romcom!"

Rick stared at you, instead of the movies, before flickering to them.

Rambling, you continued, "I also picked up some horror stuff, but I... I really think that was a bad move on my part."

He laughed again, just looking at you in a way you didn't really know how to label. Or react to. You were kind of a little overwhelmed at the fact that he'd even gotten you the batteries, and then the way he was looking at you-

"Think romcom sounds good," he interrupted your thoughts, scanning over you.

"Alright," you acknowledged, putting the other ones up, and scooting back next to him -not enough to touch. It was a little awkward and you weren't sure how you were going to-

"I don't bite ya know," he quipped, laughing a little.

You turned to him, grinning, "Well maybe I do."

Rick laughed again for a moment, just looking at you. And then he extended out an arm, welcoming you into his side.

You paused a moment, before carefully guiding yourself to slot into him; the back of your head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around the back of your shoulders. You brought your knees up, to carefully balance the DVD player (shaped like a little laptop really). A tiny little screen for the two of you to see on. Logistically, that's why you were so close but a part of you thought a little otherwise.

"I don't," you hummed.

"What?"

"I don't bite."

He laughed a little, "Good."

"Unless you want me to-"

And the laughter that filled the night was just between you and him. And maybe in the morning, you were fast asleep on his shoulder and maybe he looked at you a little like you were the greatest thing he'd ever seen and maybe he shushed all the others just to have the moment last even a second longer.

You'd never really know.

Now, you were in Alexandria. You'd gotten Maggie back, you'd gotten Judith back. You were on a new high, and that meant two things. More pestering, and two, flirting with Rick.

You were walking through Alexandria with Maggie, just keeping her on her feet really. She wasn't super pregnant yet, and it was good to be healthy.

"I cannot believe you're pregnant," you mindlessly remarked, holding Judith close to your side.

"I have been," she retorted, "-for a while. Think ya have had time to digest it."

"But, it's like physical proof that you fucked," you commented, "-unprotected, by the way. I know you missed that sex-ed day, but seriously-"

"Carl's proof that Rick fucked," Maggie defended, eyes smoothing over him with a few of his friends.

"Well," you pursed your lips, "-I know that Rick fucked. Just on principle, he's-"

She motioned for you to zip it, "Don't start. I know you are doin' good, which is great. But it also means ya become a lil' unbearable."

"Me? Unbearable?" You turned to Judith, cooing a little, "-Can you believe the nerve of her, Jude?"

Judith smiled at you with her big brown eyes and toothless little mouth. You pinched her cheek, instinctively, "So cute."

"I still can't believe that you're in love with Ri-"

"I told you that in confidence," you interrupted, pointed.

Maggie stuck out her tongue at you and Judith laughed a little at it. Funny faces, right. You could physically see the pregnancy hormones on her face as she cooed at Judith.

You would've said something, but you had just done it yourself.

"Where's your keeper anyway?" You hummed like you'd been stuck with her (you actively searched her out).

"'E's not my keeper," she responded, sternly (mom voice, already?), "-and he's out on run, gettin' supplies."

"If he's not your keeper, how'd you know who I was talking about?"

"You are so-"

Before she could finish such a kind sentence, the two of you were interrupted. A presence waltzing up to your side.

You turned to look who, and-

Your heart lept into your throat. It was Rick, now clean-shaven, and although, you had loved the beard (don't even get you started), his jaw was on full display. Blue, blue eyes. And dipping to his clothes, he was in a damn uniform.

"Look at you, Rick," you complimented, smiling.

"'Heard ya liked a man in uniform," he smiled (a new type of way), and winked. And before you could say a word, he walked forward -past you.

You stuttered to a stop, Maggie right beside you. Blinking you turned to her, and she looked right back at you. And then you both turned to look at Rick, still walking the same way he was.

Turning back forward, you opened your mouth, "Sorry, did that just happen?"

Maggie hummed, pulling you with her, "It did."

"How did I never think of that?"

"Think of what?" She offered, as you smoothed back into a step with her.

You answered, eyebrows furrowing, "That he might flirt back."

She shrugged, "If it helps, I never thought he would."

"I am not against shoving a pregnant woman," you hissed back, with no bite. You never really had any. And you both broke into laughter, as you roamed through Alexandria.

Now, Daryl was leaning against a house as you stood beside him -pestering as always.

"No, listen," you turned to him, attentively, "-it's called fuck, marry, kill-"

"I ain't playing it with ya."

"C'mon, Daryl, it's fun, look-" you flagged down Glenn (who was carrying a box, of what, who knows?), "-Glenn, fuck, marry, kill. Michonne, Carol, and Daryl."

"Easy," he laughed, "-fuck Michonne, marry Carol, and sorry, dude, but kill Daryl."

"See?" You motioned to Glenn, as he walked forward.

"Don't ya 'ave a wife?" Daryl remarked, as Glenn moved along.

"Oh please," you shook your hand dismissively, "-it's all just fun. Just hypothetical scenarios."

"Okay, now," you started over, "-fuck, marry, kill. Deanna-"

"Kill," he answered -unflinchingly.

"See!" you cheered, "-you're getting the hang of it-"

"What are the two of ya doin'?"

You turned to see the one and only Rick Grimes, a little more worn today, which you kind of preferred, still had those bandaids on (how did he make that look hot?), and more casually dressed. In the white t-shirt, we trust.

"I'm teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill," you answered, eyes solid on him, "-obviously."

Before he could respond, Daryl chimed up, something mischievous in his eyes. You squinted at him, trying to figure it out. And then he opened his mouth.

"I got one," he spoke, a smile teasing on his lips (looking at Rick, directly), "-Y/N, Glenn, and Rosita."

You stared at the eye contact for a moment (everything was so suspicious), before asking, "What am I supposed to do with myself?"

Daryl shrugged, you bit your lip a second.

"I guess I could kill myself, big waste, but-" you paused, "-ooh, wait, I could, like, clone situation fuck myself-"

"Now, 'at would be a sight to see," a low southern drawl interrupted your words, and your voice faltered to a stop.

You turned to him, squinting at him for a second -trying to understand. All he did was wink at you again, and you hated that it made your knees a little wobbly. Especially when he was holding onto the column of the porch, and slightly leaning toward you-

"Before I was so rudely interrupted," you cleared your throat, "-I would marry Glenn, fuck Rosita, and, tragically, kill myself."

Daryl nodded his head, before motioning to Rick, "What 'bout ya?"

"Am I playin'?" He questioned, finger pointing to himself and eyes dashing to you.

"Might as well," you shrugged, "-you're already over here."

He pursed his lips a second like he was thinking, eyes particularly avoiding you, "An' I can't choose one person for two of 'em?"

You swallowed, oh, he was playing dirty.

"Nope," Daryl answered.

And then, he turned into something much softer, something more familiar, "Then, marry Y/N, fuck Rosita, and kill Glenn."

Marry?

Your heart lept into your throat, and your fingers started fidgeting with your shirt -instinctively. How the hell was he winning? I started this game-

"Thought so," Daryl responded.

And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carol. Her eyes matched yours a second, and you tried to convey how desperate you were to get away from this very scene. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then she spoke.

"Hey, Y/N! Can you come help me with the food?"

"Of course, Carol," you called back, smiling at the two of them, "-sorry, duty calls."

Rick just grinned at you then, like he knew exactly what you were doing. And you were 100% sure he did. Stupid handsome men with stupidly beautiful blue eyes. Ignoring the fact that you physically brushed against him to get off the porch, you frantically caught up to Carol.

You were in the pantry now, gathering ingredients, Carol directing you -naming them as she found them.

"So," she looked at you, "-are you gonna tell me what that was about?"

You pursed your lips, before answering, "Rick's flirting back with me."

Carol raised her eyebrows at you, "Huh."

"And I was teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill, and he-" you rapted your fingernails along one of the cans, "-and he said he'd marry me. But all... genuine and shit."

"And that's bad?"

"No, no," you shook your head, putting the can into a basket, "-It's not bad. Just... I don't know if he means it."

"You just said that he said it genuinely," Carol pointed out, grabbing another can.

"Well yeah, but-" you scrambled a moment, "-all that time ago, I was flirting genuinely. I mean even though it was playful, it was still genuine."

"And," she connected the dots, "-you're not sure if he's genuine?"

"Yeah," you skimmed along the shelves, gathering the last can she needed.

"Well," she took it from your hand, blue eyes on you softly, "-if it's worth anything, I think he's genuine. And maybe this is his way of showing how he feels about you."

You hummed, wordlessly.

"He's let you flirt with him this long," she continued, bringing a hand up to your shoulder, "-that has to mean something, doesn’t it?"

She had a point.

"Now," she adjusted the basket, "-are you actually going to help me with the food? Or was it just an excuse to run away from Rick?"

You laughed, "I'll help, I'll help. I'm not a total dick. Speaking of-"

She turned to you.

"Do you know if Rick's full name is Richard?"

It was a few weeks later, and they were filled with frustratingly blue winks. And that was one thing, but now you were being stupid. You were stupid.

You'd thought Oh, it'll be just like old times, I'll go out on a run. It'll be so nice-

And now you were walking with a gunshot would, quickly bandaged by a rip of your t-shirt and whatever you had around you. Which in whatever the hell store it was, was not a lot. All you'd managed to find was alcohol so you at least soaked the shirt.

You'd blearily walked all the way home, eyes foggy, and praying that a walker wouldn't come near you. And now you saw it, Alexandria.

"Gabriel," you called, breathlessly, "-Gabriel, please let me in."

You heard him say something but you were delirious. Maybe something with your name? Head fuzzy and eyes bleary, you were coming down from the high of getting somewhere safe. As you waltzed into Alexandria (pain in the abdomen so hot it almost felt numbing), there was a swarm of people around you immediately. Felt like you were back in the prison, when Maggie would be waiting and you think she was now.

"Hey, hey," she chanted, grabbing your face (and you could see her now), "-look at me, Y/N, tell me what the hell happened."

"Some guy, the bitch," you muttered out, a little slurred you think, "-just shot me, because he wanted the last of the damn Campbell soup, who shoots someone for Campbell soup?"

Her eyes dropped to your body, you mindlessly noted that it was sticky. Your eyes dropped too, and saw all the red -so much red.

"I think I lost a lot of blood, Mags."

"Somebody go get Rick, and the doctor, now," she shouted (loud, loud), before turning back to you, "-How the hell did you get here?"

"I walked," you answered simply.

"You walked?" She responded, hands on your shoulders, "-How did you-"

You were safe now, and everything in your body just gave out.

"Adrenaline is a hell of a drug," you hummed, laughing a little, before falling to the ground.

Your head stung from the ground, as Maggie tried to get down by your side -all pregnant belly.

"'S okay, Mags, don't-" you mumbled "-don't hurt yourself."

She frowned, and you thought she might have tears in her eyes, "I have to stay with you, Y/N, whose going to keep you awake-"

"Glenn," you called, and you saw him saunter up to your side, a little slurred, "-take care of 'er, help her sit. Don't worry, Mags, don't worry-"

You heard a slap of footsteps then, quick and brisk, and before you could wonder who, blue eyes and rough hands were guiding your face. He was starting to grow his stubble back, you mindlessly noted.

"Rick," you smiled a little fuzzily, reaching up and patting his face, "-See Mags, Rick'll take care of me."

"Hey, hey," he brought your focus to him, "-keep lookin' at me, okay?"

"Well," you slurred a little, "-'at's not very hard, sheriff."

He turned to the crowd then, voice low and gruff, "What the hell happened?"

You heard Maggie respond then, through sobs, "'Ey said that some guy shot 'em, over a... over some food."

"Didn't even ask if he could have 'em, first. Who does that-"

"Daryl," he motioned -tone low, and he immediately nodded. You watched him leave your eyesight.

Rick instead, brought your face back to him, as you recognized the doctor to be by your side, scrambling with some white stuff.

"Hey, hey, baby," he spoke, low in a whisper, "-I'm 'ere, focus on me. Look at me."

You smiled again, delirious, "You called me baby, that feels nice. Everythin' else burns-"

"I kno', I kno'," he soothed, you felt pressure on your abdomen (hissing in pain, as your eyes got more blurry), "-ya did a good job gettin' back 'ere. To where you're safe. Ya did a good job."

"Just kept walking," you slurred, "-couldn't stop. Wasn't gonna die to some asshole."

Rick laughed then a little, and you felt something a little different than pain. Your hands naturally came to his face, mindlessly rubbing your thumbs against his cheekbones. He's always been so handsome, only gets better with time.

You noticed he leaned into it a little, careful not to hurt you. Yeah, you realized, he was genuine.

God, what if you had missed out on this, with Rick? All because of some stupid can of soup-

"Rick," you started, and he looked at you a little like you held the world, you were the world maybe, "-I think I'm gonna die."

"You're not, no-" he held his hand over yours (it was so warm. Why had you never held his hand?), "-You're not gonna die, baby. You're gonna be fine."

"I'm bleeding," you breathed out, scanning over him, "-Been bleeding the whole time. You're not supposed to bleed that much, Rick."

"Ya ain't gonna die," he repeated, hands gathering your face, "-Look at me, ya ain't dyin'."

Concern clear on his face, you felt the urge to soothe, soothe, soothe-

You looked at him, eyes scanning over his face. He was handsome, yeah, but he was caring, smart, and so, so kind. You wanted to tell him that, see what he'd say. What he'd do.

"'Said that you were a good man, 'at you have a big heart," you hummed, eyes languidly blinking, "-still mean it. Don't you forget it."

He looked at you for a second, eyes flicking all over your face, before looking to the doctor. She must've said something (your ears felt stuffy) because then Rick was picking you up. He was everywhere, smell, sight. All you could feel was Rick, body heat thrumming and blooming into your side.

"Always knew you were strong," you mindlessly remarked.

You felt Rick laugh in his chest, and your eyelids were so heavy then. You slowly began blinking, your brain slowing down. Maybe you could close your eyes just for a little bit.

"Got so much to say to ya."

And then, it all faded to black.

This blanket is scratchy as hell, you mindlessly remarked. It was almost like a thin sheet, barely coating you, and you think if you moved your arms, it would make that noise that shitty bedsheets did. Why were hospital beds so bad? Shouldn't they be comfortable?

And then your nose was hit with the heavy sterilized air. You scrunched your nose up on instinct, it made your throat burn-

"Y/N? Darlin'?"

You slowly blinked your eyes open, heavy and languid; they always had those florescent lights too. How was that helpful?

"'S too fucking bright in here."

You heard him laugh a little, maybe in relief mostly, and you blearily blinked to get a look at him.

"'D turn it down for ya if I could."

You laughed a little and squinted your eyes open, laying gently on him. He looked a little worse for wear, his hair messy and shirt a little crooked. You wanted to fix his curls back in place, and your hand moved before you could stop it.

Gently, you threaded his hair back. He was a breath away from where you laid, so it wasn't too far of a reach.

Rick looked at you so softly, that the words cut off your from your lips. And with a breath, he pulled your hand down from his hair, sliding it against his cheek. Before you could say a word about it, he turned his head and gently kissed your palm.

You bit at your lip, eyes flickering over him, "How long have you been here?"

"Since the doc' allowed me to be," he answered, fidgeting with your hand -not really wanting to let go, you guessed.

"And Mags?" You asked, concern flickering through your eyes, "-Are she and the baby okay?"

"Yeah," he looked at you, a little in disbelief, "-they're alright. She was stressed, yeah, but Glenn kept 'er calm."

"And," your eyes darted to your abdomen, where your wound now hid, "-the wound?"

"Good," he replied, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't quite believe you were okay, "-Doc' says ya just need to rest, not irritate the stitches. Which I kno' will be hard for ya."

You sighed, leaning your head back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling, "I am going to be so bored."

Rick chuckled a little, before falling suspiciously quiet. You turned to him, just to see him looking down and fidgeting with your hand -a little like he was working on saying something. You simply waited.

"'Ve been looking for those batteries since ya said ya wanted 'em," he spoke, a little quietly.

You froze, "Since the prison?"

"Yeah," he offered, "-apparently 'ey're a hot commodity."

"Why?" You questioned, looking at him curiously, "-Why all that work for some batteries?"

"Because," he hummed simply, eyes matching yours now, "-ya wanted 'em."

You pushed your lips into a thin line, the glimmer of hope sparking in your chest. Not saying a word, you just stared at him for a second; not unlike in the early days, you were just admiring him for a lot more than his (still unbelievably handsome) face.

"Y/N, I-" he started, eyes dipping back down to your hands. He seemed to pause a moment, debating.

And then he looked up at you, eyes set in his path -unflinchingly. In a sort of understanding, like everything made sense to him now. The silence was heavy until he leaned forward and brushed his hand along your cheek -carefully. It made you feel precious, and your eyes maybe got a little cloudy because of it.

"I'm in love with ya," he let out a breath, tone heavy and genuine, "-an... and the way ya blatantly hit on me but in the damn most genuine type of way."

You laughed a little and leaned gently into his palm. He looked at you in a way you couldn't label then, or maybe you could (love), and rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone.

"I didn't know how to react to it, at first," he hummed, something settled in his eyes, "-the attention ya gave me. 'S somethin' I've never dealt with before."

"Really?" You let slip past your lips, and his grin grew wide as he let his head fall and shook it, smiling at the ground.

"Even now," he laughed a little, turning his gaze up again, "-ya always said thin's like it was so easy to do. Like ya were tellin' me 'at the sun was hot."

"You did give me some pretty good set ups," you clarified, smiling at him.

"'Never meant to," he added, grinning a little in wonder, "-I couldn't think straight when ya said 'em, so I'm surprised I even did."

You hummed, eyes twinkling at him and he looked at you just a little more like he was in love. It made a spark shoot down to your toes, warmth flooding your chest.

"If it's worth anything," you spoke, a little embarrassed, "-my brain stops working when you do the fond thing."

"The fond thing?"

"It's just," you sighed, trying to articulate, "-It's a way that you look at me, or... or smile at me. When you do the soft stuff."

"What exactly is-" he hummed, gently, holding your attention like your words really mattered, "-'the soft stuff'?"

"Uh," you blew a raspberry with your lips, "-like giving me the batteries, and... and that whole conversation actually."

"Oh," he laughed a little, blue eyes twinkling, "-like I was in love with ya."

"What? No, you weren't... not that early-"

And then you looked at him.

"Shit," you marveled, "-really?"

"Like I said," he smiled at you, a little like you were cute, "-I looked for those batteries for months. For ya. An'-"

His face got a little more serious.

"-I really missed ya. 'At was probably when I first realized it."

You rolled your lip inbetween your teeth, "Yeah?"

"Ya used to make everybody laugh, and were always smilin'-" he explained, "-it wasn't even just the flirtin', it was just... I knew ya were hurtin', an' I couldn't help. Or I... I didn't know what to do to help."

You just stared.

"An' I missed ya so desperately, I just-" he let out a breath, "-It all clicked into place, and I went on 'at run, hopin' to god there were batteries-"

You laughed a little weepily, leaning into his hand.

"-because I just wanted to make ya feel better. Bring ya back to me."

"How the hell did you even find them?" You questioned, wiping at your eyes, "-It couldn't have been that lucky."

"'Wasn't," he replied simply, "-I was only supposed to do a few stores, I did the whole strip."

"God, really?" You smiled, "-For batteries?"

"No," he hummed, simply, "-for ya."

You fell quiet.

"I would do anythin' for ya," he added, voice a little breathless, "-anythin'."

"Anything?"

Rick laughed a little, grin bright, "Ya need to rest, baby."

"That's not a no," you chimed, grinning.

He looked at you a certain type of way then, "'S definitely not a no."

You felt your heart pound in your chest for a moment. That was something to look forward to. Something stirred in your stomach.

"What?" He asked, teasing, "-Ya all bark and no bite, hmm?"

"If I wasn't bedridden," you spoke flatly, "-I would kick your ass."

"Ya would," he agreed.

And you laughed, eyes smoothing over his face. Before noticing something you hadn't quite said yet.

Words fell out of your lips, "Even though you probably already know, because I've chasing you all this time-"

He smiled at you.

"-I love you too," you finished, "-if it wasn't obvious."

"'Was kinda obvious," he leveled -teasing, but something was sparkling so bright in his eyes that you didn't really mind.

"Yeah, yeah," you moved your hand dismissively, "-don't start, sheriff."

You paused for a moment, eyes dancing along the room, "Do I get to go home today?"

"No," he spoke, with a certainty that shook through your bones (this man had literally everything), "-'Need to be taken care of, so ya are stayin' wit' me until you're healed."

You blinked at him, he was doing the fond thing again. Your mind relaxed to a low hum.

"Maybe after too," he added, tone softer but not any less certain, "-if ya want."

You stared at him, wordless.

Rick blinked, looking at you, before grinning, "'At the fond thing?"

"Yeah," you cleared your throat, embarrassed, "-I don't... It's been a long time since I've been cared for. At all. And you're a very handsome man offering to-"

"Not offerin'," he clarified, eyes set on yours, "-just doin'. 'Specially now, 'cause I kno' ya love me too."

All headstrong, decisive, and certain. How was this happening to you?

"'Thought you said it was obvious?"

"It was," he hummed, grinning at you, "-I could just barely wrap my head around ya flirtin' with me. Couldn't really see it."

You thought for a second, before speaking, "Was it Daryl?"

He grinned at you, tilting his head a little, "Maybe."

"Always knew he was a big softie," you hummed, "-read him like a book when we first met. Stone layers to an ooey-gooey center."

Rick scrunched up his nose, "Ooey-gooey center?"

"Sometimes," you sighed, "-Sometimes I say stupid shit around really attractive people. It's a habit."

"'Guess 'at means you're still gonna be flirting with me?"

"As long as you want me to, sheriff," you clarified.

"So maybe forever then," he grinned and you felt your heart leap into your chest (fuck his fond things). You were totally never getting over that.

"Yeah," you hummed in agreement, "-Maybe forever then."

Mission accomplished.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot

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tlouadditc · 1 year ago

Text

screw the cops!!

cop!ellabs x dealer!reader

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut with plot, mentions of drugs [marijuana], cop!ellabs, dealer!reader, a lil bit of knifeplay, dom!ellabs, sub!reader, use of y/n, reader gets cut a lil bit oops!, probably more but i cant think of it rn

last minute a/n: this was another ask i forgot to put under the question ☹️ anyway thank u for the ask!!

[10:06 pm]

MY FAV ;): heyyy u got an 8th?? i can pick up at the library in 15 :)

you read the text, grumbling as you get up from your couch. you quickly shoot back:

YOU: lmk when ur there

it was supposed to be an off-day; sit in your dorm, watch tv, maybe have someone over, but no. everyone needed your shit at all times. she's lucky she's your favorite -- otherwise you would've told her to fuck off.

locking your door behind you, you get in your car and pull out of your driveway. as you glide through the gentle darkness, you feel random anxiety, like something bad is happening. it could be the lack of sleep. it could be the upcoming deadline you haven't started. it could also be the fact the entire campus is being searched because some dumbass freshman left his- no, sorry, YOUR- weed in his dorm and got the cops called. he didn't snitch luckily; he knows you would've gotten him killed if he did. but now there's a patrol going on until they find who's distributing. it's not like you wanted to live this life- you barely graduated high school, getting a small scholarship to a local college. the debt hit you, parents refused to help you anymore because you're an adult, blah blah blah blah. you ended up here to finally make a stable income and not have to chose between being warm or being fed consistently.

the sob story makes you cringe, snapping back into reality as you park in a spot by the front of the campus library. you pull out your phone and send:

YOU: here. wya

3 bubbles quickly pop up, written with a response:

MY FAV ;): kk coming out now

as you read the text, you hear the front doors swing open and a tall, slim figure gets larger as it comes closer. as she steps into the streetlight, you see her; sophomore dina. her long, onyx hair dances down her back as she comes closer to your car. she rests one arm on your window, other arm reaching into her pocket. she pulls out 35 bucks, tilting her head to the side slightly and smirking. you hand her a small baggie and take the bills out of her hand, shoving it into your pocket. "you're the best," she gushed, taking her arm off your window. she starts to turn to walk back to the library when she says, "oh, by the way, gave my friend your number."

you freeze, looking up at her in pure horror. "you what?"

"okay, chill, she's cool," she quickly explains, putting a hand on her hip in annoyance.

you roll your eyes, "the entire campus is getting fucking raided, for god's sake. cmon, dina."

"so, what? not everyone's a dumbass like that kid was."

you sigh. you guess she's right. plus, more business for you in the long run. she gives some information about this girl; her names ellie. she's a sophomore majoring in astrophysics who transferred from another school in jackson. around 5'5, auburn hair, science nerd. "pretty sure she's gay, too," dina winks.

you roll your eyes once more before pulling out and returning home. as soon as you unlock the door and step in, you check your other phone, an unknown number's texts sitting on the lock screen.

[UNKNOWN NUMBER]: hii this is y/n right?

[UNKNOWN NUMBER]: dina gave me ur number

gotta be ellie, you think to yourself. kinda cute. you don't respond; you hate small talk. no point in trying to get to know each other if you already know what they want. you put your phone down and start to get ready for bed.

an hour later, you get out of your shower and into comfy clothes. as you get into your freshly made bed, your other phone buzzes. you would usually ignore it, but you remember; debate checking the message or leaving it alone until tomorrow. eventually, curiosity gets the best of you and you check your phone. you groan as you read the message:

[11:37pm]

EL: i know its late but can u drop off? i need it :(

goddamnit, leave me alone!

you type up some message along the lines of 'im off today, ask tomorrow bitch,' but decide to be nice. you don't know why, but you only respond with the following:

YOU: off today. ask tmr

3 dots in a bubble move swiftly as a response pops up on your screen:

EL: pleaaaaase itll be quick

you sigh. she's not gonna let up; just like dina.

YOU: fine. ill b at the library.

she hearts your message as you throw on some sweatpants and grab your keys. you go on the same drive but you feel no anxiety this time. it's a newbie, for god's sake- she's the one who's probably nervous. you even put on some music this time, drake lowly lulling in your vehicle. you pull up, same spot as earlier, and you turn down your music. you go to text her, but the doors open before you can press a letter. she's just as dina described- until she gets up to your window. her scattered freckles complimented her bright, emerald eyes. her friendly expression made you soft under her gaze. you didn't realized she was talking for a while until she whispered, "uh... hello?"

"what?" you said, clearly perplexed. she smiled as you remembered what you're there for. she hands you 25 bucks as you place the baggie in her free hand. she lets out a silent "thanks" before you get ready to drive back home.

"uh, actually," she suddenly blurted out, catching your attention. she seemed nervous, like she had something to say, but she was scared of the outcome. "do you mind.. uh.. giving me a ride back home? i mean i walked down here and it's dark so-"

"hop in," you interrupted. it was pretty dark and you wouldn't want patrol on her ass about being out by herself, so you decided to get it over with. she pranced around to the passengers side and practically jumped in.

the ride to her dorm was quiet. ellie was on her phone the entire time; you assumed it was her roommate asking her where she's at. there was a bit of tension you could feel in the air; what type? you couldn't answer that.

coming to a stop at the entrance of her dormitory, she thanked you once again before you prepared to go home yourself.

"you could stay the night," she mumbled, fumbling with the bag in hand.

"what? no- no, i can't do that," you answered. you weren't against staying over, but... going home with someone you literally met an hour ago? absolutely not.

"jus' c'mon. it's late," she insisted, biting her lip anxiously. "plus, i owe you." you sight and give in, turning off the engine and ignition before grabbing your keys and phone and joining her on the walkway. she smiled politely and led you to her dorm.

the entire time you were walking with her, you assessed her appearance in clearer light. her hair was a shaggy cut, parted to the side and tucked behind her ears even though some stray strands still stood. her eyes were welcoming and friendly, giving you a warm feeling of hope. she had a tattoo on her right arm; a fern and a small butterfly. you debate asking her the meaning, but decide against it.

you snap out of your trance when you make it to her door. she unlocks the door and gently pushes it in, leaving room for you to step inside. "come in!"

you take 3 steps inside before you're pushed to the ground and pinned by strong, rough hands. "what the fuc- hey!" you start to shout. you squirm, hopelessly attempting to be freed from the tight grasp of what you thought was a male officer.

"you're under arrest," an unfamiliar, feminine voice states, "for possession and distribution of marijuana. you have the right to remain silent at this time." you see ellie's shoes standing in front of you, silently taunting you as you're handcuffed.

fuck, i should've never trusted her.

you're patted down and escorted to an unmarked car, parked around 30 feet away from your car. the unfamiliar figure is a tall, built woman with a long, blonde braid swinging down her back. her calloused hand grips you tightly as you're being walked. once you reach the vehicle, you're thrown into the back and the door slams in your face. you don't argue or protest; you were caught after one fuck up.

"didn't expect to catch her so easily," ellie brags, slightly looking back at you. you scowl at her, feeling betrayed by not only ellie, but dina, too. she had [hopefully] unknowingly helped them ruin your life. you were for sure not going to be able to finish college now. you wouldn't be able to get a job nice enough to stabilize your life. not to mention the possibility for 5 years of jail time and fees. it all made your head hurt. tears weld up in your eyes as you started to really let reality sink in.

"aw, she's crying," the blonde officer teased, looking at you through the rear-view mirror. you blinked back the tears before spitting out, "fuck you."

"the fuck you just say to me?"

"you heard me; fuck. you."

you could see her jaw clench, her bone well-defined under her skin. "oh, i know you wanna fuck me." a snicker was heard from the auburn girl.

the hell??

it was a weird response, but you decided to play into it. you're already being sent to jail; why not have fun?

"you wouldn't do anything about it if i wanted to anyway."

you saw the blonde's eyes go wide and her jaw drop with disbelief, looking over at her partner. ellie seemed calm, but intrigued by the situation. it was silent, but the way their eyes met was like they were talking through eye contact. ellie tilts her head towards you, signaling something to the other officer. as if she could read her mind, the blonde nods and pulls over to an abandoned alleyway.

"what's going on?" you question, attempting to hide the fear in your voice, but failing miserably. the blonde got out of the car and slammed the door shut as ellie simply answered, "you said we wouldn't do anything, hm?"

a shiver went down your spine as the door to your right opened, the blonde hopping in as you scooted all the way to your left.

"uh-uh, come here," she demanded as her hand wrapped around your neck and dragged you back to her. at this moment, your back rests against her toned thighs, handcuffed hands under your ass, legs laying on the seat.

"you wanna be disrespectful to me and my partner?" she jerks your head up, making you look at her. her sharp features take up your vision as she looks down at you with dark eyes. "you think you were just gonna get away with that? nuh-uh, not on my watch." you take your gaze off her face to read her badge, which reads "ABBY ANDERSON".

you're so focused on abby that you don'r realize ellie is on the other side of you, watching you and abby interact. you feel a sharp object on your jeans, scoring against the material. your head jerks down to see ellie running a pocketknife over your clothed cunt, fear and adrenaline running through you all at once. your breathing picks up speed as she cuts through your jeans, making a hole in the crotch. abby chuckles at your reaction, caressing your face as she coos, "not so tough now, huh?"

you're too caught up in looking at ellie's actions to respond. she puts the knife down, letting a feeling of relief wash over you. she mutters a "fuck it" before placing both hands on either side of the hole she made and ripping your jeans. you gasp, anxiety filling you once more. she smirks up at you, grabbing her knife and running it over your barely covered pussy. she loves the way you try to get away from her knife, silent cries as she gets closer to the meat of your thigh. she slightly cuts into you, small drops of blood racing down your inner thigh. you wince in pain, turning back to abby. "shh, it's okay," she reassures, kissing your sweaty forehead. "just a little cut. you're okay." you feel ellie's warm tongue running over the wound, collecting the red liquid. she kisses near your core, green eyes piercing into you before whispering, "so sweet" and smiling. abby gently kisses you, drawing your attention away from your cut to her and only her. she taps her pointer finger on your chin and whispers "open up", which you obey to. her lips purse together, gathering the liquid in her mouth before a ball of saliva drops into your mouth and onto your tongue. "swallow," she commands, and you close your mouth and swallow it, feeling it slip down your throat. she smiles, tapping your cheek lightly as she praises you. "good girl. she's doing so well, isn't she, el?"

ellie hums, hyper-focused on your pooling pussy. "so wet," she says in awe, "all this gets you off, doesn't it?"

you're oh so needy, cunt begging to be touched in any form. you nod ferociously, whining for any friction on your puffy clit. "you want it, yea? beg for it."

"p-please, ill do anything, just fuck me- ohmygod-" you babble, hips bucking up into ellie's face. she chuckles before looking up to abby, meeting her gaze. "she's been so good for us. give her a lil' reward."

with that, ellie cuts your underwear with one swift movement, completely exposing your pussy to her. she gasps at the sight, glistening skin in the low light. she whispers a spew of curses, spreading you apart as abby kisses you passionately. you moan into the kiss as ellie rubs your bud with her thumb. your noises go straight to her core, making her slightly whimper. she lays a flat tongue on your core, soaking up all of your juices on the pink muscle. abby wraps a firm hand around your throat, restricting airflow enough to make you completely feel ellie on you.

"fuck- oh, my god-" you cry, tears welling up in your eyes once more. the feeling is too much; abby kissing you, ellie eating you out- everything is overstimulating you. ellie smiles against your pussy, sucking on your clit while shoving two fingers in you. you whine and squirm away from her, but her other hand keeps you in place.

"i'm gonna- m'cumming- !!" you breathe, clenching around ellie's long fingers. abby praises you through it; "oh, so good for us, baby." "cum all over her fingers f'me, yes." small kisses are planted on your face once again, soothing you through your orgasm. ellie slowly takes her fingers out with a pop! before shoving one glistening finger into her mouth. she moans at the taste of you, maintaining eye contact with you. "shit, so sweet," she murmurs, looking over at abby. "wanna taste?"

"of course," abby says slyly, glancing over at you before sucking on ellie's middle finger, completely cleaning it off. she moans at the taste, finally letting ellie's middle finger go after a couple of seconds. she pulls you into another sloppy, heated kiss, making you taste yourself on her tongue.

"such a sweet thing," she coos, wiping your face. "too bad we gotta take you in now."

"can't let me off with a warning?"

"we would, but we'd be here for much longer and you'd be more bruised up." abby frowns in a mocking manner.

"so you're taking me in with no pants or underwear?"

"yup. don't underestimate us and, more importantly, don't sell drugs."

a/n: this was so fun to write omg ... part 2 will be coming me thinks

#tlouadditc #abby anderson smut #ellie williams smut #the last of us smut #tlou fic #abby anderson #ellie williams #ellabs #ellabs smut #ellabs x reader #lesbian

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bamboozledbird · 4 months ago

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IGNITE: A Teen Wolf S1 AU (Reader's Version) // Prev. / Chapter 2 / next.

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader (You), Lydia Martin, Scott McCall, Allison Argent Pairing: Eventual Stiles x Reader, but man are we talking slow burn Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: Canon typical gore/violence, emetophobia, parental death (rip to your fake mom), descriptions of burning, depictions of depression (apathy, dissociation, 'numb little bug' vibes) Tags: Canon has been lovingly scrapped for parts, author is a chaotic bi and it shows, prolific overuse of the em dash, the slowest of burns i fear

Summary: You can always smell ash long after the fire is gone. Perhaps, that’s why you still can’t breathe without choking on the past. It’s been four years since your mom died. Four years since she burned alive. Four years since you didn’t. You survived, but they must have buried your heart with her because most days you feel like a shadow, some horrifically sad creature caught halfway between a ghost and a lamb for slaughter.

You can’t scrub the bitter smell of hospital from your memories, not even with denial. Maybe, that’s why death and disease follows Stiles wherever he goes now. It’s been eight years since his mom died. Eight years since he didn’t. Eight years since he decided that he wouldn’t let anyone he loved die ever again. He survived, but Scott’s new-found abilities and the murky world they’ve been dragged into is making it pretty damn hard to keep his promise.

Time never stops turning. The grief never dissipates. Children soldier on—but in a town where all the monsters under the bed are real and old family skeletons rattle in every closet, how long can two fragile, breakable humans survive?

Maybe, the real question is how long will they want to? Chapter Summary: After an awkward encounter with Lydia Martin, Stiles realizes that his new acquaintance might be the perfect person to jumpstart his 15-year plan. You, on the other hand, aren't interested in discussing your ex-best friend; you're much more focused on the man who was attacked by the mysterious beast ravaging the town.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the support so far. So many of y'all have been so sweet :') Comments and reblogs are love.

Monday came, and you’d forgotten about Stiles Stilinski and his sweatshirt. In all fairness, you almost forgot your essay too. Lack of sleep, maybe, or perhaps lack of Wellbutrin—you’d also forgotten if you’d taken your pills before you left for school.

You crinkled your nearly empty can of Red Bull a few times and twisted the tab in circles until it snapped off. Nervous habit. You flicked the tab into a trashcan and squeezed the can until it crumpled in on itself. Okay, you’d definitely forgotten to take your pills. However, on your list of things to forget, homework outranked antidepressants by several places, so your day wasn’t off to the worst possible start in the world. Dr. Lin always said that you should spend at least five minutes every morning changing your ‘self-talk’ to ‘gratitude, not negatude’—she also said that consistently taking your meds was imperative to your mental health, but one out of two wasn’t so bad. See. Positive thinking; you were killing it.

It was, however, pretty damn difficult to put a positive spin on a bloodied school bus cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape.

You lingered on the outskirts of the swarm of teenagers gawking behind the barricade that a few deputies were fruitlessly attempting to enforce. The back door of the bus was crumpled in the middle, wrenched open, and barely clinging to life with a lone intact hinge. More concerning, was the blood smeared across the yellow paint and the bloody handprints pressed against the windows. You peered through the mass of shoulders in front of you and cupped your hand over your eyes. There were four large gouges in the door and tears in the vinyl seats—claws: you realized. They were claw marks.

Baffling. The entire scene was, in all sincerity, baffling.

Awful, you quickly corrected yourself. The carnage was awful, first and foremost. It was awful, horrific, and totally tragic…but it was also bizarre. Animals, wild or not, generally didn’t hunt on school grounds; that honor was reserved for creepy super-seniors and perverse volleyball coaches. You chewed on your bottom lip and stewed. A bear seemed most likely, given the battering the bus took, but Beacon Hills was a long way from Los Padres. Mountain lions and coyotes, on the other hand, often strolled into small-town suburbia to snack on the occasional unaccompanied support animal. Still, you doubted they had the strength or dexterity to rip a steel door off of its hinges.

The first warning bell rang, and it was especially shrill while you were lost in your own head. You managed to not flinch with a herculean effort and pushed through the remaining voyeurs towards the front doors. Stuffing your airpods into your ears, you turned up the volume on your phone until the bass vibrated all thoughts of coyotes, cougars, and bears out of your mind. Oh my.

Positive: Ellie Rowsell’s ethereal vocals demanded your full and undivided attention.

Negative: Ellie Rowsell’s ethereal vocals demanded your full and undivided attention.

You grabbed your chemistry notecards, a few highlighters, and a fat stack of books from your locker just as an overly-cologned jackass shoved his equally pungent friend straight into your crowded arms.

Positive: You hadn’t gotten the chance to organize your notes by unit number before they scattered all over the floor.

Negative: They were still scattered all over the floor.

Biting back a few choice expletives, you crouched down and gathered your notecards into a messy heap. You stretched across the scuffed tile for your highlighters; one brushed past your fingertips and rolled into the pointed toe of a sleek brown leather boot. You glanced up, apology ready, but your tongue went cottony when you locked eyes with Lydia Martin.

Lydia Martin was many things to many people, but you supposed the general consensus would be that she was the apex predator—regardless of what the bloodbath outside might lead a person to believe. Most students were consenting prey. Enthusiastically consenting, in fact. You understood the impulse. Knowing she could destroy you, that was the thing that made Lydia so undeniably captivating.

Lydia was…sublime. That was the only word for it. She was the duality of fear and attraction. She defined indefinable beauty—because she wasn’t just beautiful (anybody could be beautiful), Lydia was fiercely beautiful and, in the same breath, the grace of girlhood. She was…she suckerpunched Jordan Aadams in the third grade for making fun of your eyes without lifting a single manicured finger; that was the closest you could come to explaining the phenomenon Lydia Martin left in her wake.

Lydia’s thick red curls spilled over her shoulders as she looked down at the obstacle in her path. The angry pinch in her brows softened briefly once she made eye-contact with you, but she quickly corrected her slip and schooled her face into a blank expression. Returning her attention to her friend, Lydia’s heels clicked against the floor as she stepped over your copy of Metamorphosis and continued on with her conversation like it hadn’t ever stopped. Like you were just a mirage or a distorted oil-slick reflection—like you were a ghost who just wouldn’t fucking die already. You watched her go, forgetting to blink, until they reached Lydia’s locker on the other side of the hall.

Before she got extensions, Lydia liked to wear her hair in a French braid. Before she discovered full-coverage concealer, her freckles were golden against the fairness of her cheeks. Before everything fell apart, she was your best friend.

In the end, it wasn’t a terribly dramatic thing. There wasn’t a melodramatic scene or an explosive fight; sometimes, you wondered if that would've been better. There was a certain kind of brutality to a slow, quiet death; one that lasted long after the hot water turned cold and shampoo stung your eyes. After the funeral, you could taste decay in your conversations, in your silences. The rot crawled listlessly—everything did back then—tauntingly sluggish. You saw the end coming weeks before you stopped speaking, and you didn’t even try to stop it. To be fair, Lydia didn’t either.

On the first day of seventh grade, Lydia had new friends; they all smelled like vanilla and owned matching couture purses. She’d always been magnetic, but evidently losing her only constant was her final quest before she transcended to godhood. You made her human; that must have been the problem. You were babies together. You were more than family. Now, you sat across from each other in a class you couldn’t bring yourself to care about, and you did not look at each other unless it was straight through.

You snatched the runaway highlighter and quickly sunk back against the wall, pressing into it like you could force your body through the cracks in the bricks or at the very least shed the sentimentality clinging to your skin. You darted your gaze across the hall and almost snorted when you saw the amount of people who’d flocked to Lydia’s side in the span of no more than thirty seconds. Lydia was unobtainable, unknowable—and yet ever so desirable. No one really knew her, so of course they all wanted to be her.

Lydia only liked one of them, the new girl with shiny black hair and dark eyes; you could tell. Her top lip pursed ever so slightly when she was holding back a barbed comment and a violent eye roll. Usually, Lydia didn’t bother with niceties, but for whatever reason she’d decided her new persona should only intimidate peons with looks and confidence, never brains. It was a shame, really; her cave-dweller boyfriend desperately needed educating.

You resisted the urge to look across the hall again and smoothed out the bent corner of a notecard until ‘alpha’ became ‘alpha particle’. A shadow fell over the pink-highlighted text, and you frowned. Glancing up, your frown cemented when you saw Stiles’s elven nose and remembered that you still had his sweatshirt wadded on your desk chair.

“Hey,” Stiles adjusted his grip on his backpack, “did your car make it home okay?”

You nodded and shut your locker with your elbow, bending with the wobbling tower of school supplies in your arms until it stabilized again.

“Cool.” He nodded a few times, mouth puckered like a duck, and scratched at the back of his neck, “So. You and Lydia, huh.”

You stared intently at your notes, “Is that a question?”

“No, it’s a statement.” He hooked his thumbs around his backpack straps and leaned back slightly, “And that episode of telepathic taekwondo was definitely a statement.”

You glowered until ‘alpha decay’ and ‘helium-4 nucleus’ mushed together into an illegible pink blob, “I’ve got a statement for you—only two words actually.”

“So it is a thing.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he grabbed the books from under your arms.

You refused to feel grateful, even as you readjusted your grip on your cards and freed one of your hands, “Get lost, Stilinski.”

“That’s three words.” The smirk was deafening now.

The one-minute warning bell rang and a mass of students swarmed the hallway, effectively drowning out Stiles’s smugness with a sea of jock whooping and band geek trumpeting. You met his gaze and smiled, quick and sickly-sweet, before stepping around him, “Kindly. Choke.”

You ignored the sound of Stiles’s large footsteps following far too closely behind you. You wanted to be annoyed with him, but English was his first-period and he did have your books in his stupidly big hands. Instead of flipping him off, you focused your itching fingers on stacking cards and pencils on top of your desk until Stiles sat down in the seat next to you—without permission. You changed your mind; he was annoying.

Stiles scooted the desk closer to yours with his feet, and the metal legs screeched against the linoleum flooring for you. “Was it like a ‘grew apart over the summer’ thing, or did some serious shit go down?”

You sighed heavily and lined your pencils and pens next to each other, first in order of length and then color, “Why do you care?”

His mouth remained open for a second, and then he shrugged a little too casually, “I’m a naturally inquisitive person.”

“You’re unnaturally irritating,” you grumbled, low in your throat, and scowled at your picked-apart cuticles like they had done you a particular disservice.

Stiles huffed through his nose and threw his hands in the air, “Come on, I totally saved your ass Friday—very chivalrously too, might I add. I won’t even press charges for the theft.”

“Theft?” you finally turned around in your seat to face him at the accusation.

Stiles nodded solemnly, “My sweatshirt. My most favorite sweatshirt of all the sweatshirts.”

Oh. You deflated a little; you’d forgotten about that pesky little detail again. You snatched your books off of his desk before your lives could become further entangled and replied flatly, “I’ll overnight it.”

“No, I insist you keep it.” His smile was a little too crooked to be truly cocky, “I’m a good guy like that.”

You tapped your pencil against your chin, eraser side up, and cocked your head to the side, “Isn’t it incredible how every self-proclaimed ‘good guy’ is exclusively terrible.”

Stiles’s face twisted into a petulant scowl as he collapsed against the back of his chair, and you were a little surprised that the desk managed to contain all of his gangly appendages without collapsing as well. “I like her, okay!” His exasperated confession carried to the next row of students, and Stiles melted into his seat when a jacked sophomore with no neck whistled lewdly behind you. Squeezing his eyes shut, Stiles lowered his voice, “Actually, I’m kind of in love with her if you want to be technical about it.”

“Oh.” You blinked and then laughed.

“Don’t laugh, asshole.”

“Sorry,” you grinned, not sorry in the slightest, “it’s just…isn’t everyone?”

Stiles shook his head and sighed wistfully, “Not like I am.”

You turned to get a better look at him and didn’t mask the doubt in your eyes. He was wearing a brown flannel that was practically mewling for a good ironing and a red t-shirt with the silhouette of a spider embossed over his chest. Spider-Man’s emblem, obviously. If you had to hazard a guess, you’d say it was the Andrew Garfield version. Regardless, it was blatantly clear that Stiles’s homeplanet was lightyears away from Lydia’s.

You folded your arms over your chest and leaned back against your seat, “Have you even talked to her?”

“Technically…no,” Stiles dipped his head from side to side like a bobble head and then pressed his palms together, gesturing with them every so often to emphasize the most ridiculous words in his sentence, “but we have a deep, unspoken connection, mostly via sporadic eye-contact.”

You just looked at him, unamused and unimpressed.

Stiles held up his hands like a director and kicked his feet onto his desk, “It’s about the long-game.”

“Gross,” you pulled a face. You weren't sure if you were referring to the gray wad of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe or the pride in his long-con. It was probably a bit of both.

“Are you gonna help a guy out or not?” Stiles nudged the leg of your desk with his sneaker—the gumless one, thankfully—and sent one of your pens careening towards the edge.

You caught it before it could hit the ground and glared at him. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not an ‘in.’” You returned the pen to its rightful place between your pencil and purple highlighter: a perfect rainbow of neuroticism. You straightened your row of writing utensils again and swallowed shallowly, “I don’t even know her anymore.”

For the first time since Stiles had popped up in front of your locker like a chronic zit, understanding clicked in his eyes. Actually, he almost looked apologetic. Stiles sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and leaned forward onto his forearms, “So…what happened? Did you not make queen bee first-string?”

“No,” you bristled. After a long exhale, you crumpled in on yourself a little and mumbled, “Yes…kind of. I don’t know. I have my version; I’m sure she has hers.”

Stiles clasped his hands together and nodded sagely, “There are as many truths as there are people.”

Your brows scrunched, and your eyes went lidded as you flipped through your mental philosophy rolodex, “Camus?”

He shook his head and clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Evangelion.”

You were startled into a snorty chortle, “Obviously you’re a weeb.”

Stiles hid his amusement behind a slow roll of his eyes, “You’re at least 1/16 weeb if you know Evangelion is an anime.”

Before you could deny such blasphemy, you were distracted by the boy who usually sat next to you—Greg something, you were pretty sure—coming to a stop directly between you and Stiles. He lingered next to the side of his desk, breathing heavily through his mouth like some kind of sick prowler.

Stiles glanced at him with a flat expression and then looked up again, brows shooting towards his hairline, when he didn’t leave, “Can I help you?” He jerked his head forward and shook it slightly, “Need a mint?”

Greg Something stared at him, red-rimmed eyes thoroughly glazed over, and you wondered if being faded at 7:45 in the morning was worth the tortuous five-hour wait until lunch.

“No?” Stiles waved his hand in the air; Greg didn’t even blink. “Okay seeya.”

It took him roughly 30 seconds to comprehend what Stiles was saying, but eventually Greg shuffled towards one of the remaining empty seats in the middle of the classroom.

“Thank you,” Stiles muttered before returning his attention to the side of your face.

You smirked slightly at your notebook, doodling a little bird with sharp talons along the margins of your notes on Kafka’s thoughts on absurdism—spoiler alert: the guy who wrote a book about a dude randomly transforming into a bug was a big fan of it. You added a long feathered tail to your bird and said, “It is his seat.”

Stiles scoffed and looked over his shoulder. You both watched Greg shove a handful of Cheeto Puffs into his mouth in slow-motion for a moment, and Stiles replied, “I think he’ll live.”

“Oh,” you shook your head a little, freshly bitten lips curling around the extended vowel, “I’m not worried about him.”

Stiles clicked his pen aggressively with his thumb and pressed his mouth together until his lips disappeared into a flat line. “If you would just answer my questions the first time, I wouldn’t have to keep asking them, so, for the love of god—” fortuitously for him, he was cut off by a loud scratchy buzz before you could succumb to your base instincts and throw an eraser into his flapping mouth.

Principal Montoya’s voice crackled through the loudspeaker, “Attention students: I know that many of you are concerned about the…incident in the parking lot, but rest assured that the police have it well in hand. Classes will proceed as scheduled as they continue their investigation. Have a productive day, Cyclones.”

A resounding groan echoed throughout the classroom and into the hallway, followed by the hum of students breaking into various complaints. Mr. Lyman thwacked his pointer against the whiteboard, and the force of his swing sent the cartoonish hand on the end of the stick into rapid vibration—effectively shutting everyone up. The quiet was only disturbed by the rustle of zippers being unzipped and papers being smoothed when he instructed everyone to turn their essays in.

You hastily wrote your name across the top of your paper and pointedly kept your eyes on the board when Stiles leaned across his desk. “Life’s short, y’know. One day you’re a traveling salesman, and the next you’re a grotesque, monstrous insect, wishing that you’d seized life when you had the opposable thumbs for it, so—”

“A man just died; have some class,” you interrupted him, voice dry as it was soft. Stiles might not care about getting in trouble, but you’d worked very hard to remain on a no-name basis with all your teachers.

“We don’t know that he’s dead—or that he’s a he.”

“Oh yeah,” you jotted down the daily prompt in your notebook and muttered, “I’m sure the guy just decided to go home and sleep off the mauled limbs.”

“It could’ve been an animal,” Stiles huffed, bowing his head in submission when Mr. Lyman shot him a stern look from behind his desk. He continued with his hand over his mouth, muffling his words, “And they do run off to die alone.”

You stared at him for a long moment. “That’s cats. Are you saying a bear ripped a bus apart for a cat.”

“Well, if you say anything in that tone, it’s going to sound ridiculous,” Stiles muttered sullenly against his palm, and you were pretty sure that he was pouting behind it too.

You opened your mouth to reply and then squinted slightly when a boy with floppy hair skidded to a halt in front of you. His mouth was slightly agape as he looked back and forth between Stiles and Greg, who was now licking the nearly toxic orange dust off of his fingers.

“Sit, Scotty,” Stiles jerked his thumb towards the empty desk behind him. “Good boy.”

The boy, Scott you gathered, did not look amused, but he sat down behind Stiles anyway and leaned forward to whisper something in his ear. Stiles whipped around and responded in a hushed screech.

You were distracted from her eavesdropping when Lydia’s friend sat down next to Scott—directly behind you. Her jaw could cut glass. You dropped your chin onto your folded arms and refused to let yourself frown; the end result was a slightly constipated pout. It was just…Allison had just started going to Beacon Hills a few weeks ago, and she was already completely intertwined in Lydia’s life.

Lydia was…prickly, so you were just surprised, that’s all, how easily Allison fit into her life. More palatable, you thought as you risked a peek over your shoulder; she must be more palatable than most. A terrible, ugly thing creeped over you, and you found yourself imagining Allison choking on her beautiful, silky black hair until her beautiful dark eyes popped out of her head. Just for a moment. A brief, awful, horrible moment—until you remembered it wasn’t Allison’s fault.

“Hey.” You flinched when you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder.

You reluctantly shifted in your chair so that you could see Allison. You just looked at her for an uncomfortable moment, and Allison smiled awkwardly, “The tests.” You blinked and licked your dry lips, at a loss for words. Allison smiled again, a little nervous but still kind, “They're on your desk.”

“Oh,” you said dumbly and reached for the pile of papers on your desk that you’d missed during your lengthy period of dissociation. You kept one and then held out the rest to Allison, mumbling, “Sorry,” under your breath.

Allison looked at you for a moment, and you didn’t like the discerning look in her doe eyes. “It’s okay. I zone-out all the time.”

You could see why Lydia liked her; she was nice, overly so. You felt that ugly feeling slip into your mouth again, bitterness coating your tongue, and you wished that Allison was catty or at very least a vapid twit who was either too stupid or too self-involved to notice other people—like the rest of Lydia’s circle.

“I like your necklace.” Allison nodded a little towards the black chain around your neck.

A heavy pendant rested just over your sternum; the maze etched into the stone had eroded in places, like it had been left out in acid rain for decades. You weren’t sure exactly what it was made of; your mother never said when she gave it to you, and you never asked. It didn’t matter much now.

“Thanks,” you finally said, because that was what normal people did when they were complimented, and you were a normal person. Mostly. You swallowed thickly and bit down on the scab in the center of your bottom lip before adding, “I like your jacket.” You did. It was simple, unadorned by gaudy zippers and lapels like so many of the other leather jackets on campus. You would wear it yourself if you didn’t break into a sweat in any temperature warmer than tepid.

Allison’s cheeks dimpled when she smiled, and you quashed the sigh rising in your throat. Her smile was magnificent. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off, but my friend convinced me to—” Allison let out a little breathy laugh, “Sorry, you definitely don’t want to hear my jacket’s tragic backstory.”

You didn’t, not if it included hearing about Lydia’s fashion tips second-hand. Still, you scraped up a little smile, “As long as it doesn’t begin with a cow, you’re golden.”

Allison laughed and held up her hands, “It’s faux; I promise.”

“Ladies,” Mr. Lyman called from across the classroom, “I wasn’t aware that existentialism was so amusing.” You felt a dizzying heat crawl up your neck to your ears once you realized that the only noise in the room, other than Allison’s tinkly laughter, was the scratch of pencils on paper as students worked on their tests.

“Sorry,” you mumbled at the same time, and Allison mouthed another ‘Sorry’ just for you before you turned around. Damn. You liked her. How incredibly inconvenient. You almost wished that Stiles was still pestering you so that you had a real reason to be upset—until you finally got a good look at the mid-term, more specifically at the thickness of it. You flipped through the lengthy test and looked at the ceiling briefly: Six essay questions?

Positive: At least, you found a legitimate excuse to sulk.

Negative: You felt a migraine coming on.

Blessedly, whatever Scott had said to Stiles at the beginning of class was distracting enough to keep his, frankly obsessive, focus on him for the rest of first-period. You were even able to finish the final essay question without interruption—which was plenty difficult without being interrogated about your ex-best friend. You almost scoffed when you read the prompt: Whom do you sympathize with more, Gregor or his family? Who in their right mind would side with a pathetic parasite who couldn’t love anyone more than he hated himself? An uncomfortable, undeniable pang of melancholy sliced through your throat, and you were actually grateful for the distraction when the bell rang for second period and you had to pack up for chemistry.

The impending chemistry midterm, however, was evidently a touch too distracting because you didn’t notice that you’d regained your lanky shadow until you were in Mr. Harris’s classroom and he stole the flashcard in your hand. Narrowing your eyes, you leaned across the lab table and rocked onto your tiptoes. Your outstretched arm shook as you struggled to even brush your fingers against the cardstock, “I haven’t talked to her in years. Lurk elsewhere.”

Stiles opened his mouth and then shut it again, head bobbing helplessly for a moment, “I was just going to ask you about…Gregor. That last question was a real piece of work, huh.”

You plucked the card out of his grasp while he was distracted by his social ineptitude, “Uh huh.”

“Scout’s honor,” Stiles placed his hand over his chest and somehow made his big eyes rounder. His pink bottom lip jutted out ever-so slightly, but the quivering at the edges of his mouth gave him away. Sighing, he leaned his weight onto his palm: flat against the tabletop, fingers spread, and far too close to your own. He gestured erratically with his other hand, and you jerked back to avoid being smacked in the face. “Personally, I’m on Grete’s side. I mean, you can only take care of your werebug brother for so long without some kind of recognition before you snap.” Stiles shot a pointed look over his shoulder at his friend from first-period, and you thought the glare Scott returned was well-deserved. You could be biased, but probably not.

“He was a little preoccupied by being, y’know, a bug.” You shuffled your notecards and frowned pensively at the question that ended up on top of the stack: What is the formula for Calcium acetate?

“He could’ve said thank you in Morse code.” Stiles looked over your shoulder and added, “C4H6CaO4.”

You flipped the card over and pursed your lips. He was right. “I actually said the same thing,” you admitted begrudgingly as you grabbed the next flashcard from the pile. “Not the Morse code bit, that’s objectively insane. I did say that the best thing he did for her was die.”

“Damn.” Stiles’s forehead wrinkled as he let out a puff of air, “A little harsh.”

You picked at your raw cuticles and wished you could pull your bottom lip over your head. “It’s like you said,” you muttered as you folded your arms firmly over your chest, ducking your chin towards the divot in your breastbone, “she could only deal with his depressed bullshit for so long before she got on with her life and made new, sane, non-insect friends who actually go outside, and have fun at parties, and respond to texts.” You paused and remembered that you needed air to function when your lungs started to burn. Exhaling shallowly, you pressed your calves against the stool’s frigid legs until it hurt. Maybe, if you crushed your limbs together tightly enough, curled in on yourself closely enough, you could disappear. “And don’t, y’know, crawl on the ceiling and projectile vomit Exorcist style,” you finished weakly.

Stiles studied you for a moment, and it was like he could see every painfully tender spot inside you. You felt ants crawling underneath your skin and him seeing you, and you wanted to bolt before you came completely unstitched at the seams. “Well,” he trailed off for a moment, rubbing the back of his head, “in all fairness, being there…that’s kind of the deal when you’re friends—even if they turn into a disgusting bug.” You didn’t know that someone so caustic could sound so gentle, like ink running across paper.

“Siblings.” You swallowed and looked away from his unyielding gaze, but you still saw amber and understanding every time you blinked. “You mean siblings.”

“Sure.” Stiles smiled a little and slid his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, “Siblings.”

You swallowed again, couldn’t even manage a ‘see'ya’ or an eyeroll when he saluted you goodbye, and watched him saunter towards his seat next to Scott through your lashes with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. You felt a little sick once you realized that you weren’t relieved by his absence. It was all you’d wanted at the beginning of his inquisition, and yet…you wanted him to sit next to you. The epiphany struck you right in the stomach, and you felt a bit like one of your dad’s rare butterflies—tissue paper wings pinned to paper, fervently yearning to fly away, even if it meant ripping yourself apart.

Normally, you thoroughly enjoyed not having a lab partner. The class had an odd number of students, and Mr. Harris either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care that you never joined another pair during labs. It was a toss-up, considering he seemed to loathe his job as much as he loved devoting his undivided attention to mocking Stiles. Speak of the bifocal-ed Devil.

“Mr. Stilinski,” the contempt in Mr. Harris’s voice was sickeningly viscous. You imagined mucus dripping from his thin lips; it helped quell some of the righteous anger in your gut. He continued, and now he was spitting up slugs and snot, “If that’s your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while. I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?”

“No–” Stiles’s jaw hung open as he shook his head violently.

Mr. Harris silenced him with a glare, and your fingers curled into your palms as you watched the condescension gloss over his smirk when Stiles complied. Your jagged, bitten-down nails pinched your skin; you quickly flattened your hands on top of the table before you did something stupid like draw attention to yourself. It was none of your business, after all, and you had a test to prepare for.

You stared at your notes, reread the same sentence over and over again without comprehending a single word, until you felt the uneasy sensation of someone sneaking up behind you.

“Hey,” Stiles sat down on the empty stool next to you and kicked at your shoe lightly under the table. You hummed in recognition and slid your textbook over to make room for his things.

Stiles’s face scrunched as he flipped through his own notes. You couldn’t read most of it—not that you were looking; his hand-writing was just glaringly atrocious. Everything was smooshed together and most of the letters were partially incomplete, like his pencil couldn’t keep up with his brain. You looked back at your own notebook, at the meticulously symmetrical loops and compulsively straight lines, and the corner of your mouth curled into a brief smile.

The quiet was nice, but you couldn’t shake the irritation sticking to your fingers. You tapped your pencil against your notebook a few times, bit down on the inside of your cheek, and then said, “He’s a dick.” You spoke quietly, but Stiles still flinched. The highlighter in his hand left a long yellow streak across his textbook, and you winced. Truthfully, you were equally startled that you’d voluntarily broken a perfect moment of silence.

Stiles didn’t seem bothered by the new mark permanently defacing his book, most likely because a good portion of the glossy pages were already more yellow than they were white. He angled his chin towards you and smirked, “Are you legally allowed to call a teacher a dick? Y’know, as the resident teacher’s pet.”

You grinned at your notes, “I have the utmost authority, actually.”

Stiles leaned forward onto his forearms and struggled to keep his mouth impassive, “Oh, yeah?”

A loud, grating squeal of metal on tile and an even louder yelp interrupted your reply. A girl near the front of the classroom shot up out of her seat, almost sending her stool toppling to the ground, and then bolted towards the window overlooking the parking lot, “I think they found something!”

Mr. Harris quickly lost control of the classroom as the rest of the class surrounded her, practically pressing their stupefied faces against the glass to get a better look at what, or rather whom, the EMTs were wheeling out of the thicket of trees just beyond the school’s perimeter. You hesitated for a moment before joining the stragglers. Morbid fascination dwindled after you were confronted with the reality of it—you weren't in any rush to see another dead body.

You weren't ever supposed to actually see the photos; they were strictly evidence for the potential arson investigation. The coroner didn’t even want your dad to see the body. There hadn’t been any point, after all; it was completely unidentifiable. At the time, you thought it would help. You thought peeking at the case file while the Sheriff was on the phone might remind you of some crucial detail, hidden in the depths of your blackout—and, well, you thought it might finally make it real. Maybe, if you saw the proof, you’d finally believe that your mom wasn’t coming back.

You’d been wrong, of course. Seeing what was left of your mom, seeing her like…that, it’d just made you puke. Your whole body had trembled from the retching, and then you were paralyzed, held hostage by a glacial streak of terror. Sheriff Stilinski had been so terribly understanding about the whole thing, like it was nothing: vomit on his office floor, trembling hands invading his private files. He’d just wiped the corners of your mouth with a tissue and rubbed your upper back in slow circles, just like her your mom did when you were sick—which ultimately sent you into another round of dry-heaving. You never felt the temptation to look again.

You let out a deep breath when you looked out the window and saw the man on the gurney twitch. His jacket and pants were black, and his shirt was charcoal gray, dark enough to hide any blood stains. The only injury you could make out was a large gash on his face; it was still bleeding sluggishly, leaving a sticky red trail from his jaw to his neck. Your grip on your forearms tightened as your stomach lurched.

The paramedics began to load the gurney into the ambulance, and the man surged forward without a single warning. His screams were raw, like they’d been ripped from his throat along with the flesh on his cheek, and every single one of the students crowded against the windows recoiled from the wailing. You swallowed the bile burning your throat. It was like they were watching their own, personal horror movie and couldn’t decide if they were more exhilarated or horrified—just itching for the jump scare.

You stumbled back towards the door and bumped into Stiles and Scott. Stiles gripped your arm gently until you regained your footing.

“That’s not a rabbit,” Scott said under his breath. He looked as queasy as you felt.

“Or a cat,” you added quietly.

“But he’s alive,” Stiles nudged Scott a little, “that’s good, right? Dead guys can’t do that.”

Scott still looked like he was going to hurl all over Stiles’s white Vans, and you felt a flutter of sympathy. The only thing worse than puking was doing it in front of other people. “You might want to take him somewhere,” you spoke softly to Stiles. “He looks like he’s going to pass out.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded a little and wrapped an arm around Scott’s rigid shoulders, “good call.”

His eyes darted around the classroom: big, and brown, and frantic—like a lost fawn. You nodded towards the dark corner Mr. Harris was dissociating in, “I’ll cover for you.”

“Yeah?” Stiles smiled a little, but he looked weary down to his bones as he started shuffling Scott towards the door.

“Yeah,” your smile was a bit wobbly at the edges, “but only ‘cause I get a sick thrill out of fucking with dicks.”

Your weak attempt to ease some of the tension in the air was semi-successful; Scott was still staring into another dimension, but Stiles looked positively giddy at the prospect of such a perfect setup. “I have, just, so many thoughts on that, but I’ll save them for after Scott—” he gave Scott a long look and scratched the back of his buzzed head, “gets his blood sugar up.”

It was sweet, you thought as you watched Stiles guide Scott into the hallway, lying to spare Scott’s pride. You thought Stiles would be a better liar, but maybe that was the downfall of being raised by a police officer. It was either that or the general social impotence. Not that you had much room to talk; silence was your preferred method of social interaction.

The classroom was far from silent now. Students were spread out across the room in little clumps. Some spoke in furious whispers. Others weren’t as discreet, and you could hear every single preposterous word that left their mouths. The amount of sophomores who didn’t know that the California grizzly bear went extinct almost a century ago was a very depressing glimpse into the public education system, but at least there were only two boys howling obnoxiously at a few giggling volleyball girls. Rolling your eyes, you pulled out your phone and typed ‘Beacon Hills bus attack’ into the search bar.

You refreshed the webpage obsessively, all throughout chemistry and art class, until an article finally popped up on your screen at lunch. You bit into your slightly bruised apple and squinted at your phone, immensely grateful for the empty courtyard as you came across the grittier details.

You always ate lunch outside; it was quieter without the echoes of gossip and laughter, and the heady scent of cut grass was far preferable to whatever monstrosity the cafeteria was serving that day. Today, the afternoon heat made the earthy warmth especially thick in the air. Normally, you loved that smell, the smell of summer. It reminded you of frenzied August afternoons, running through Lydia’s sprawling backyard and swinging into brisk lake water, but the smell was quickly becoming suffocating the more you read.

The man who was attacked was a bus driver. He was smiling in the photo they’d chosen to include before pictures of the crime scene, like a warped ‘before and after’ ad. You dropped your half-eaten apple into your lunch sack and shoved it to the side when you got to the background bits. Garrison Myers had a family, a wife and two daughters; they were praying for his unlikely survival. Your throat hurt, and you wondered if there was an apple chunk lodged in your esophagus. Swallowing hard, you scrolled down to the police interview. The deputy they managed to get a quote from clearly knew next to nothing, though he did posit the possibility of a mountain lion attack. You rolled your eyes. Maybe on PCP.

The only thing you were sure of was that whatever kind of beast ripped a woman in half and slashed a man to ribbons in the span of a week wasn’t going to stop. At least, not until it was killed.

#stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski imagines #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski x you

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luke-hughes43 · 4 months ago

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beautiful crazy | luke and melissa

luke and mel enjoying their retired life and life as parents after the NHL and catching up with their closest friends and families.

*there's a couple of time jumps in this but it's their adult life after college and into the NHL and after. maybe with Luke being involved at the NTDP*

(I kept the ages vague and gave random names for their kids since we haven't talked about it yet)

her day starts with a coffee, and ends with a wine, takes forever gettin' ready, so she's never on time for anything

mel is very much a morning person compared to luke. she didn't always used to be a morning person but early morning workouts in college to having kids converted her into being an early riser despite her husband being in a deep sleep.

mel is up between 5 and 5:30 every morning to enjoy some peace and quiet before her teenage kids wake up. she's enjoying her coffee when at about 5:15, she feels a pair of arms wrap around her face. she knows it's luke.

"come back to bed." he mumbles into her neck. she giggles, "no. I'm enjoying my coffee in the peace and quiet before the kids get up. bridgette has a skate at 6:15, and christian is doing off ice at 6:00 with mini duke. delaney said she'd come too and just do her own workout in the gym at the rink before school."

"what time will you be home?" luke mumbles again, holding mel tighter.

mel smiles at her sleepy, clingy husband. she runs her fingers through his curls and says, "I drop the girls off at school at 7:45. so I'll be home at like 8 ish. when do you have to be at the rink?"

"8:30. I'll be leaving when you get home but I'm only there for half the day since the kids have school for the second half. and I took a half day anyways so I can spend time with you."

mel smiles and leans into luke's hold until she hears her first born moving around upstairs. she sighs, "and bridgette is up. goddamn early bird child."

"she gets it from you." Luke smirks and kisses mel's cheek. mel smiles, "while she obviously didn't get it from you. christian and del definitely did from you."

Luke goes to protests but they hear a "mom?!" coming from bridgette's bathroom and mel says, "duty calls. I love you babe." and kisses him before going up to their oldest daughter.

"I love you too sweetheart."

when she gets that come-get-me look in her eyes, well it kinda scares me, the way that she drives me wild, and she drives me wild

luke gets home from a long day at the rink with christian to see mel cooking dinner and doing the dishes. he asks over to hug her and give her a kiss but also to steal a piece of chicken.

mel slaps his hand and scolds him, "luke warren absolutely not. go take a shower before touching this. I don't need your hockey smelling hands contaminating dinner."

"I'm offended honey. really."

"I don't care. go shower." mel says sternly. she turns and gives him a look that says "if you don't get your butt upstairs and take a shower you're sleeping on the couch." luke recognizes the look and immediately retreats to shower.

he says as he's going up the stairs, "I love you!"

"go shower luke. then I'll tell you I love you." mel shorts back at him. he chuckles and just goes to shower before mel killed him.

beautiful crazy, she can't help but amaze me, the way that she dances, ain't afraid to take chances, and wears her heart on her sleeve, yeah she's crazy, but her crazy's beautiful to me

(this is while they are still in the NHL, it's gonna be shea's wedding so part of mel telling Luke she's pregnant, maybe for their third kid.)

mel is sitting with ethan's wife for a few minutes sipping on water since she can't drink. luke walks over, extends his hand, and smiles, "may I have this dance mrs. hughes?"

she looks at ethan's wife who nods and mel smiles, "you may mr. hughes." she lets him pull her onto the dance floor for a slow dance. something they don't get to do often. mel comments, "I'm so happy for shea. he looks so happy and grown up."

"yea. you always had a soft spot for him didn't you?"

"of course I did. you left me alone with him and gavin for a year and someone had to supervise them. I grew close with him and he's the little brother I never wanted but got stuck with anyways."

"I don't know if I've ever told you this but one of the things that I fell in love with about you is your ability to open your heart to anyone. especially the important people in my life."

"well if they are important to you then they are important to me. we're in this life together luke."

"that's what I mean. you took shea in your arms in college and kept him under your wing while he made the transition. and I know it meant a lot to him."

"he's family. it was a no brainer." mel smiles up at her husband. Luke leans down and presses a soft but long kiss to her lips. he mumbles against them, "I love you mel. my crazy girl."

"I love you too Luke."

she makes plans for the weekend, can't wait to go out, till she changes her mind, and says, "let's stay on the couch and watch TV", and she falls asleep

"come on Luke, let's get the whole gang back together for the weekend, send the kids to your parents or my parents or to their friends and just have a weekend with our friends with no kids and no responsibilities. like college all over again. it will be fun, and we haven't seen some of them in ages with mackie, mark, and ethan moving out of michigan."

"fine. but you have to promise not to change your mind about it. because even if you do, it's still happening and they'll still be here."

"I won't change my mind." mel says nodding with smile, excited about their friends coming to town.

~day before their friends come to town~

"luke, are we sure they're still coming tomorrow?" mel asks while cooking dinner. luke rolls his eyes and nods, "yes. you aren't getting out of it."

"but I really just wanna wear sweats and watch tv with you."

"not happening. and we do that every night. they are coming and it's final." he says looking her in the eye. mel nods and mumbles "fine" under her breath.

~night of~

after the first hour of catching up and being excited to see everyone, they all gather around the fire pit on the back patio. mel is curled up on luke's lap and after being under the blanker with luke rubbing her back for 30 minutes, she's out cold. luke chuckles and dylan asks, "what's so funny hughesy?"

"mel is out cold."

"typical mel." ethan comments. mark adds, "some things never change." both of their wives smack them for their comments but everyone knows it's true. she always suggests doing something and then curls up on luke's lap and falls asleep pretty quickly.

beautiful crazy, she can't help but amaze me, the way that she dances, ain't afraid to take chances, and wears her heart on her sleeve, yeah she's crazy, but her crazy's beautiful to me

mel is sitting in her office, in late july, on her computer to organize the family calendar to make sure that her and luke can get all of the kids where they need to be. luke comes home to his wife hard at work once again. he smiles, "do you ever take a break baby?"

mel jumps, not hearing him walk in. she says, "no. because if I take a break, the kids don't get where they need to be. because christian was so focused on hockey this summer that he never took his road test, bridge moves into holy cross in 3 weeks, and Delaney is coming back from pgf with lauren and sophia in 3 days and she has a camp at michigan when she gets back."

"woah, just relax for a second mel. it's gonna be ok. just breathe." luke says softly and pulls mel up from the desk and into a hug. mel lets out a deep breath and asks luke, "were we crazy for signing our kids up for so many activities as a kids and they kept that schedule into their teen years? like did we cause this because this is what we did?"

"no at all. we told them that if they didn't wanna do any of this that they didn't have to. and that just drove them even more. they get their crazy dedicated work ethic from you sweetheart."

"I'm not crazy dedicated, I'm just passionate." mel argues back against luke's chest. he chuckles, "you say passionate, most people say crazy. but you're my crazy girl and I love that about you. and don't worry about the kids, we'll figure it out mel. we always do."

"are you sure?" mel questions. luke nods, "I'm sure. I'll tell christian that he had to schedule a road test before school starts with the program or else he can find a different ride to the rink. and del will figure out what she wants for college soon, she's only a sophomore don't forget. and we'll get bridgette to worcester. you're parents are still nearby and I'm sure they'd be willing be to help out. but we got it melissa, I promise."

"never melissa me again." mel says looking up at him.

"I won't. I just used tot o get my point across." luke chuckled and kissed her head. he just holds her close and enjoying a moment to themselves in their very busy lives. mel is understanding how jim and ellen felt reading quinn, jack, and luke.

she's crazy, she's crazy, but her crazy's beautiful to me, her crazy's beautiful to me

luke is never not amazed but how go-go-go his wife is when it comes to the kids and how organized she has everything. he loves seeing her take control of the situation and get everything handled using her crazy methods to do so and is never not so deeply in love with mel that it hurts him to even think about a life without her.

#luke hughes #melissa moynihan #luke x melissa

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melefim · 4 months ago

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Swearing in Dead Boy Detectives: Jenny Green

Overview:

38 curses total, 7 different words said in 8 episodes.

Episode 1: 1 Shit, 1 Jesus

Episode 2: 2 Shit

Episode 3: 1 Fuck, 1 Ass

Episode 4: 1 Fuck, 4 Hell, 2 Jesus, 1 Screw

Episode 5: 2 Fuck, 1 Ass

Episode 6: 1 Fuck, 1 Shit

Episode 7: 3 Fuck, 1 Jesus

Episode 8: 10 Fuck, 1 Shit, 1 Ass, 1 God, 1 Jesus, 1 Screw

Curses Per Episode:

Episode 1: 2

Episode 2: 2

Episode 3: 2

Episode 4: 8

Episode 5: 3

Episode 6: 2

Episode 7: 4

Episode 8: 15

Uses Per Word:

Jenny’s favorite curse word is Fuck, which she says 18 times! Shit and Jesus are tied for second, with 5 uses each.

Fuck: 18

Shit: 5

Jesus: 5

Hell: 4

Ass: 3

Screw: 2

God: 1

Unique words:

Jenny, Crystal, and Esther are the only characters who say Screw.

Percent of total:

Jenny swears 38 times throughout the season, which is 11.8% of all cursing in the show.

Rankings:

Who Swears the Most: Jenny is in 3rd place, with 38 times.

Most Curses in an Episode: Jenny’s 15 curses in episode 8 nets her the number 3 spot on the Top 10 ‘Curses per Character per Episode’ list (tied with Crystal in episode 7).

Most Uses of a Single Word in One Episode: Jenny won this one for saying Fuck ten times in episode 8.

Curse Word Variety: Jenny comes in 3rd for swearing variety, with 7 different words used throughout the show.

Individual Words: Jenny holds 2nd place for most uses overall of the words Fuck (18), Ass (3), Hell (4), Jesus (5), Shit (5- tied with Charles) and Screw (2- tied with Esther)

Lines:

Episode 1: Maybe you catch someone on a good day and they care about you for like a minute, and then they go right back to caring about all their own bullshit.

Episode 1: Jesus! I thought you were like a meat robber!

Episode 2: Whatever angsty, John Hughes-level bullshit that's going on in here, just do it more quietly.

Episode 2: Just cut the weird shit. Or I'll like evict you.

Episode 3: It's a super fucked up story so I'm gonna need some coffee.

Episode 3: He killed the mom and daughters while they were watching tv. Asshole.

Episode 4: Jesus! Okay, what the hell is this?

Episode 4: A. Go to hell. B. It's none of your business. And C. It's not even a big deal, so just… go to school.

Episode 4: Ok, so you're what? You're just, you're not gonna leave until I explain this even though it's private and go the fuck away?

Episode 4: Screw the past, you can be anybody you want. Hell, maybe you can even be somebody with a bank account.

Episode 4: Who the hell are you?

Episode 4: Wait, why am I upstairs? And why am I taking to myself? Jesus, Jenny.

Episode 5: Oh my fuck.

Episode 5: It wasn't my finest moment, but the guys at the fish market can be real assholes.

Episode 5: What the fuck, Maxine?

Episode 6: Just like whatever the fuck I am doing is none of yours.

Episode 6: Stop that bullshit right now.

Episode 7: Fucking kid.

Episode 7: What the fuck?

Episode 7: What the fuck was that?

Episode 7: Jesus.

Episode 8: What the actual fuck?

Episode 8: And why the ever-loving fuck is my hair braided?

Episode 8: Fuck that! That is bullshit!

Episode 8: No fucking way.

Episode 8: Fucking fuck!

Episode 8: Screw it. I'd rather know my own life, no matter how fucked up.

Episode 8: Jesus, fuck!

Episode 8: Esther's a witch? I thought she was just an asshole.

Episode 8: I figure a meat cleaver can cut up a witch, but what the fuck do I know anymore?

Episode 8: God, that sounds so fucking procedural.

Notes:

Jenny almost has another curse but was cut off- in episode 5 it looks and sounds to me like she was going to say ‘bullshit’ at the end of her “I will take my wine and murder documentaries over this bu-“ but was interrupted by Maxine.

Updates:

Updated Percent of Total Swearing chart.

Added ‘most curses in a single episode’ chart. Added a line from episode 7 that wasn’t copied over correctly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More Dead Boy Detectives Swearing Posts:

Masterlist

Swearing by Episode

Swearing by Character

Swearing by Word

All Swearing Posts

And if you like lists of things like I do, you can check out my other Dead Boy Detectives ones here!

When Charles’ Shirt Colors Change

George Rextrew’s Edwin comic inspo board

Full soundtrack with timestamps

Moves, Incidents, and Cases Masterlist

First pass at finding where the songs in the score are used- full post with timestamps in progress

#dead boy detectives #dbda #dead boy detective agency #jenny green #jenny the butcher #dead boy detectives swearing #swearing by character #compiled by me #Dbdshow

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piss-pumpkin · 8 months ago

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🌓 waking nightmares⚡️

(Older) Dipper pines x reader, Douce amere chapter 15 ~3.6k words, masterlist Prev

“Y/n!” Dipper hollered, one hand on the car door, the other on the centre armrest, all for balance. “Did you fucking forget how to drive since this morning?!”

Bill laughed, and it sounded maniacal in your voice. “Maybe!” He said.

Mabel was, maybe for the first time, dead silent. Eyes wide and sitting straight up, she too held into the car door handle for dear life. Don’t hurt them, please.

And you were reeling. If it was possible, given your condition. Bill kept your eyes on the road, at least. It seemed he didn’t have the intention to kill all of you at the current moment, since he had plenty the opportunity.

Bill nearly rammed into the mystery shack when he parked, and Dipper and Mabel sighed in relief when they finally opened the doors. Dipper practically fell out. “Y/n, what the fuck was that?” He asked, shooting you crazy eyes.

…You’re not being subtle with them, you thought tiredly. They know I wouldn’t drive like that. They’ll figure you out.

“The sun was going crazy,” Bill said, stepping out of the car. As he turned you caught a glimpse at Mabel, who was leaning on the trunk for support, shifting her balance from one foot to the other. “I was half blind that whole time.” He gestured at your sunglasses, tapping the sides of them.

Dipper shott you a more than quizzical look, his brow furrowed in exaggerated distain. He leaned down, resting his arms on the car roof and poking his head in the open door. “You know,” he started, rolling his eyes. He seemed to lose the will to fight you, and pushed off the car. “Come on,” he said, gesturing for you to come.

Bill shook your head. “Nah, I gotta get back home,” he said.

Dipper looked disappointed, his face falling slightly, despite your nearly killing him today. You were almost brought to smile by it, his sadness at the thought of you leaving. It was cute. “Okay, text me when you’re coming next,” he said.

Bill, nodded, put it in reverse, and pull out of the driveway. “You’re too sappy, it makes me sick,” Bill said, speeding down the road.

…Fuck you.

“Oh, don’t be so sullen,” He laughed, swerving across the yellow lines. “I like having somebody to talk to.”

A deer jumped in front of the car, and Bill swerved nearly into the ditch. The bottom of the car scraped the dirt as Bill got back on the road.

Wonder if the car is gonna be okay. You watched at the trees melted into the small town scene as you approached your aunts house. Wait a second. Did we just steal Stans car?

“Sure did!” Bill sang.

He’s never letting me take that car again, is he?

”You won’t have to worry about that,” Bill casually hand waved. What? He was coming up on Susan’s house now, and you weren’t trying to think about anything at all.

Luckily she was working. Bill parked messily across the driveway, blocking any other car that could try to pull in. He didn’t bother locking the door behind you, and he tore through the halls walking like marionette doll, bouncing between the walls as he crashed around as if on misguided puppet strings. Ouch. That might hurt later.

“No matter how many time I try it, I’ll never get used to human pain,” Bill laughed, coming to the kitchen. “It’s so neat!” He went through all the cupboards, eating several strange and old foods Susan had in the very back. The standout was a can of maple beans from the fifties. That could hurt later too.

He went through all the drawers, running your fingers over the serrated edges of butter knives and at the prongs of forks. His eyes lingered on a meat cleaver for longer than you’d have liked. But he didn’t grab for it.

He ran your hands under cold water for a minute, then hot, seemingly taking in all the sensations. Your hand was red and tender by the end of it.

When he got to your room, he went through all your things that he hadn’t yet seen through your eyes. All the clothes you hadn’t worn yet, everything on your laptop you hadn’t opened while he was with you. This is excessive.

“I want to know everything I can about my little host body,” he laughed. “And anything here that could kill Pine tree.”

Oh. Kill him? I don’t think I have anything that could do that, you thought dejectedly.

“Better to be sure!” He chirped, scrolling through all your messages, apparently looking for some confession or secret that could destroy your boyfriend. It’s not like I talk shit about him, or something. This is fucking stupid.

“Hey, it’s worth a try,” he said, putting your hands up in the air in defeat. “You seem clean, good for you!”

Fuck off. Bill laughed. The fucker.

He sat on your bed invading your privacy for a while. You hadn’t even realized it was dark out, and had been dark for hours. The mental exhaustion had already blended your brain into mush. But Bill was slowing down. Long blinks that lingered on the dark, sluggish hands as he typed through your documents. “I’m not a fan of this part,” he muttered quietly.

Going to sleep?

“No,” he said, nearly nodding off hunched over.

Please lay down or something, you’ll give me back problems. It’ll just hurt you tomorrow.

He hummed. “You might have a point, little host,” he said, leaning back, laptop still on your legs. He laid your head back on the pillow, and your vision went dark as he closed his eyes.

You could at least move my computer, so you don’t break it. Silence. For once Bill didn’t have a comment, and sluggishly put your laptop on the floor beside the bed.

Hello? You asked, seemingly into the void. No answer. Just dark. Your eyes were still closed. This is probably the closest to being dead that I’ll ever feel. Until the real thing. No sight, just dark, the sensation of laying, but without the ability to move. Yes, this did seem a lot like being dead. Billy? Hello?

To no response again. Okay. Workable, now you could formulate a working theory, take stock of your situation. Maybe he was asleep. If Bill had control of your body, maybe he was subject to its limits. He finally made you pass out. But you’re still awake, as tired as you are. So maybe when he sleeps, the body sleeps? Or he’s in pre-sleep, where the brain is still technically active?

Even if you were alone with your thoughts for the first time in what felt like forever, you still had no idea what to do. Like you were living a puzzle, and you couldn’t seem to find all the pieces.

“I’m still…” Bill muttered, covering your ears. “…Here.”

Shut up and go to bed. Dipper always said Bill made deals by shaking hands. You did shake his hand… sort of. Fuck, that was dumb. Your statue friend Billy, you did shake his hand way back then. That’s when the nightmares started. Fuck he was totally doing that. Could you give him nightmares? You didn’t know how, if it was possible.

”You can’t, little host,” Bill mumbled, waving your hand in the air as best he could.

Bill said something about the shack. The nightmares stopped in the shack. There was something there, you could tell. But your brain was foggy enough to miss the punchline. Fuck, you were exhausted. Even without a body, just mentally, you felt more than dead.

Dipper said that when he was possessed, he was like a ghost out of his body. That’s not what you’re on, clearly. Ugh, it would have been nicer, you’d at least be able to move.

Sleep was odd when you didn’t have a body. You were alone in the universe, completely in the dark, and as exhausted as you felt, there was nothing you could do. Mental tiredness be damned, you were still thinking. Until you weren’t, when the body fell asleep completely, you and Bill were knocked out.

…

Bill was mortified by the human bodies tiredness upon waking, complaining how many years it’s been since he inhabited Ford, and even his body was better at waking up. That’s rather rude. But Bill didn’t think much of it.

If you could have, you would have shuddered as you saw Bill pull out your phone, and text Dipper. Would have froze when he responded right away, and would have died when they made plans to meet in the woods and go on a ‘mystery hunt,’ suggested by Bill. Alone together in the woods. That’s not good.

He laughed, slipping your phone in a pocket and putting on a sweater. “You’re observant!” He chirped, jingling Stan’s car keys. At least he was returning them. “Eh,” he shrugged, not bothering to lock the door behind him. “If I feel like it.” Your sunglasses were all he carried in your back pack. Well shit.

Hmm. Bill drove a little more careful this time, and parked a few blocks away from the shack. Like hiding? Why? He didn’t answer, wordlessly walking to the tree line where Dipper was waiting, slipping the glasses on.

Your lovely boyfriend. Dipper waved happily at Bill as you got close, and wrote a note in his journal. Maybe he was writing all his suspicions and reservations about you, and he already knew you weren’t yourself. Bill snickered as he jogged up to him. It wasn’t that much to hope for, don’t laugh, you thought sadly.

“Hey,” Dipper said, closing the book to devote all his attention. He’s too nice for this. You can’t do this to him. “You said you found something good?” He asked, starting to walk.

Bill smiled, mimicking the way you spoke and moved with precision. He’s been watching a while, huh. Studying. Your hands swung at your sides the way they always did, and your feet hopped over roots with the same spring you always had. The disguise was perfect. “Yes!” Bill proclaimed, walking ahead of him. “It’s a little ways in though, we’ll get there when we get there, I guess.”

He talked like you, laughed like you, held Dippers hand like you did, raising no suspicion at all. You watched like a film how the two of you hiked around, noting and taking photos of all the oddities and silly creatures you found. And you could almost pretend you were in control with how good of a job Bill was doing. Hearing all your thoughts does that, you supposed.

Your camera roll would be cursed with pictures from before Dipper knew. Or his last moments, that he spent with his killer. That thought got a laugh out of Bill. Unfortunately.

He led Dipper through the woods, teasing you with the way to your special clearing, where you first met Bill. That had to be the final destination. Bill laughed under your breath a moment, confirming your suspicions. This dumb fuck was edging you.

Bill laughed, much to Dippers confusion. And he was quick to recover, pointing down the path you’d walked alone before, and down it you could see the sunlight of the clearing. The weather always turned sour when I went there before. Why’s it have to be sunny for you? “Down that way,” Bill said, starting the trail. “We’ve found it!”

Dipper followed, smile on his face as he idly clicked at his pen. “Okay, you’ve led me on enough, what the fuck did you find, Y/n,” he laughed, not a hint of distaste in his voice.

Bill grinned, almost manically, just for you and him. Dipper couldn’t see from behind. “Oh,” he said dramatically, “you’ll see.” You’re a dramatic cunt.

You heard dipper scoff, with a little smile on his lips, you could tell. Even with your back to him. The clearing was growing closer each step. You couldn’t yet see the stature, your little Billy. If Dipper saw it first, maybe he could get away…

Bill shook your head, and stopped just short of the little field. The grass was tall, brushing up against your ankles, and a few daisies poked through the blades. “Okay, it’s here,” Bill said enthusiastically, spinning around to face Dipper. “And I’m gonna have to ask you to close your eyes.”

Dipper raised his brow. “Alright, if this isn’t like, the coolest thing I’ve ever seen I’m gonna be disappointed, you’re hyping this up too much,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “Fine.”

Dipper closed his eyes. Dude. Come on. Bill snickered, and took Dippers hand, pulling him. “Okay, don’t open your eyes until I tell you, okay?”

You could see the statue, its familiar outstretched hand beckoning you closer. And you could feel Dippers hand too. Too many hands. All around you. Dipper laughed, “yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Bill just smiled and nodded, maybe forgetting that Dipper couldn’t see. He stopped in front of his stone self, smiling down at it happily. Maniacally. Maliciously. Dipper still had his eyes closed as your hand slipped out of his, and suddenly there wasn’t enough hands.

Bill stood behind him, hands on his shoulders. “Okay, don’t open your eyes, but we’re here.”

”Dude, my balls are blue enough,” he snickered. “Can I just see?”

”Wait wait, not yet.” Bill savoured the moment. A gentle breeze ran through Dippers and your hair, a few birds chirped. It was a nice summer day, all things considered. Bill pulled out your phone, and took a selfie with Dipper, the statue, and you behind his back. That’s just cruel.

“I know,” Bill said.

Dipper didn’t know he was talking to you, “What?”

“Okay, you can open them,” Bill said, words cutting through the air like knives. And you had to watch, a little glad you that his back was turned. That way you didn’t have to see his face.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” Dipper laughed. But he stopped fairly quickly, freezing in place. The birds didn’t stop chirping, and you could even hear a few crickets. Dipper was silent enough for a lot of forest sounds to come through. You couldn’t even hear his breathing. If he even was.

He stood for a few beats of your heart, hands frozen at his sides, until you noticed the subtle way his fingers rubbed and scratched at his thumb. Please don’t turn around.

Dipper started to turn around. Very slowly. There was a slight move of his head to the right, and then a stop. And when he started again his hands were fidgeting with his pockets.

Bill, I’ll kill you for this.

You didn’t want to see his face, but it was the first thing to turn. And you couldn’t avert your eyes if you wanted to. Bill wasn’t nice enough to let you look away. Dippers brow was furrowed in concentration, his jaw clenched but lips parted. More confused them anything, at a glance. “Y/n, what-“

And then he saw your face, the way Bill was grinning. And you saw each stage of grief pass on your boyfriends features. He was frozen for a moment, just a single one, and then he stepped back. It was an awkward, shaky step, but it was better than you could do. He grimaced, one hand touching his backpack as if to check it was still there. “Y/n?” He asked, voice laced with concern first, suspicions second. He took another step back, and his foot knocked the statue.

”Nope,” Bill grinned gleefully, shaking your head. He took a step forward, cornering Dipper against the statue. “Try again.”

And then, if you had to guess, is when you’d say Dippers blood ran cold, maybe stopped in his veins, and his heart stopped pumping. His breath caught in his throat, and he tried to step back, but caught on the outstretched hand. “You’re not-“ he said, stumbling to regain balance.

”That’s not a guess.” Fuck you. Fuck you.

”Dude. He’s dead,” Dipper said, starting confident but losing it partway through. “This is kind of fucked up, Y/n, take those off,” he hissed, pointing at your sunglasses. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Bill stepped closer again, “Will do, Pinetree!” And then he did. He flipped them on top of your head, and it seemed like Dippers heart stopped a second time. He went pale. Your pupils didn’t look right. Suppose that was the giveaway. Isn’t that what he asked you when you first met? That was the telltale sign? Dipper scrambled backwards, putting the statue between him and Bill. Dipper… if you had any control… better not to think about what you would do.

Dippers eyes were wide like that of a prey animal, darting to different holes in the tree line for a potential escape. His voice was too level, giving away too much. Everything he was doing to keep calm, and you knew how panicked he really was. “Where-“ he started, stepping back. “Where’s Y/n?”

Right here, Dip. “Right here, Pine tree,” Bill said, tapping your head. “Been a real complainer this whole time.”

Fuck you. Fuck you.

“W-what?” Dipper said, brow furrowing. He clutched his back, swinging it off his shoulder and digging around in it while he kept his eyes trained on you.

“They’re still here, not in the mindscape or anything,” Bill shrugged. “Y/n, you can say hi if you want, anything you wanna tell him?”

Fuck you. Tell him… what was there to say? I guess that I’m sorry. Yeah. Fuck you. I’ll kill you.

“They say they’re sorry,” Bill laughed, shaking your head. “Among other things.”

“I-“ he started. He quickly lost the track, but pulled his journal out of his bag. Maybe he had a solution in there. “Y/n…”

Yes? I’m right here. Right here. Still here. Bill kept getting closer, side stepping his statue, and giving it a flick on the hat. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Pine tree,” he started as Dipper stumbled back. He was flipping through his journal aggressively, searching desperately for something, anything. Please find it. “And this time you don’t have that memory gun, do ya?”

Please do something. Dipper, please. But you were begging to the void. Bill was done letting you talk, and Dipper was as worlds away. As trapped as you were in your mind, he seemed to be locked in his, frantic and running out of places to go, nearly the edge of the clearing as he kept walking backwards, and Bill kept closing in. If you leave me here you’ll be okay, you wanted to say. Or if you fight me off.

But did he have it in him? There was a thin sheen of sweet on Dippers forehead. He wasn’t finding whatever he was looking for, and Bill was closing fast. And Dippers legs were shaking. And his hands. Please fight me.

And maybe he heard your prayers. Dippers hands clutched the journal with white knuckles, the pages bending under his fingers. Heavy and ragged were his breaths, but his jaw was tight in a sneer and glare. The stance of prey, but the teeth of a predator. Fight or flight. Yes. Yes Dipper. Don’t hesitate.

Suddenly there was hope. A sliver of it, anyway, because Dipper still stumbled back and tripped to the ground when Bill lunged forward. And you were given the Birds Eye view looking over him as he scrambled back, hanging onto his journal like a lifeline. Don’t hesitate. Fight. Choose fight. You could feel Bills grin on your lips.

Dipper held his book to his chest, and with one hand frantically grabbed at the grass behind him, trying to pull himself away.

Bill snickered, and raised his knee. Don’t you fucking hurt him. Don’t you fucking do it. I’ll kill you for this. You’re gonna be dead. If you could, you’d be sobbing blind with rage, it’d stop you from seeing this. Bill stomped down on his wrist, and Dipper winced, groaning in pain.

“You’re not gonna hurt this body, are you,” Bill gloated. Fuck you. Fight him off. I’d forgive you. I’d hate you if you didn’t, you have to know that. Dipper, he’ll kill you. “Only way to get rid of me now is to get rid of them,” he laughed. “And you’re not gonna do that.”

Dipper gritted his teeth, but he had no objections besides a breath sucked in hastily and laced with pain as Bill pressed your foot down harder on his wrist. Just pick fight. Before you get hurt, you pleaded. Appealing to Bill was a scream into the void, but in some sense, Dipper might hear you. Across the universe. Right in front of you. You could practically feel his pulse pounding through your shoe. His hand was starting to blue.

“That’s what I thought,” Bill said smugly, leaning down your head close to his, and you could feel his shaky breath on your face. What, you read fucking yaoi or something? The fuck is this?

The hand clutching the journal was shaking. He tried to clench the hand Bill was suffocating, but all that happened was a twitch of the fingers.

“I’m going to kill you now,” Bill said, raising a hand tediously slowly.

But before it could clamp around his throat, punch his face, dig into his chest, or whatever else Bill had planned, Dippers journal was flying towards your face. Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah. His eyes were wild, but he was doing it. One clean hit to the jaw, and you were out.

I wrote this one while so sick lmao. Ig I did my first proofread while sick too cuz I caught some horrible errors 💀

Anyway I got war flashbacks to dipper x bill shit from the 2010s, can you tell?

Taglist: @dead-esque @cipheress-to-k-pop

#x reader #my writing #dipper pines x reader #douce amere #gravity falls x reader #dipper pines #dipper x reader #gravity falls

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wannab-urs · 9 months ago

Text

Knife

Prompt: "I've always wondered why it had to be you"

Pairing: Dave York x gn!reader

Summary: It was always going to be you

Warnings: implied major character death, implied smut

WC: 407

A/N: The challenge was to write a prompt fill for my assigned character in 20 minutes + 10 minutes of editing. I did this in about 15 and didn't edit it because it was midnight when I completed the challenge lol. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi | Prompt Fills | Dave York Masterlist

Dave had opened the file folder expecting to see another random operative, another practically faceless target he cares nothing for. His stomach dropped clear to his feet when he saw your picture, a name he doesn’t know you by typed neatly beneath it. It was definitely you, though. It was your hair, your nose, your lips in the photo. You. It always had to be you.

Every beautiful and terrible thing in his life seemed to come back to you. He had met you on a job – first mistake. You were a fellow agent, newly assigned to his team. He’d immediately known he was going to fall for you. You’re beautiful, intelligent, and god the way you handle a gun.

You had bonded over drinks at the hotel bar, competing for the attention of your target – a stunning blonde in a skimpy but elegant red dress. You took turns flirting with her, vying for her attention. At the end of the night, she went up to her room with you. He was a fucking goner.

Your relationship had been fraught. You were always dancing in and out of reach. Close but never close enough. You loved him, he could see that, but you wouldn’t commit. Not that he was any better. You both refused to acknowledge the bone deep feeling that you belonged together. Your work was too dangerous, too time consuming, too solitary.

Neither of you could ever refuse that magnetic pull toward each other, though. Give you three minutes in a room alone and you’d be on each other. Trousers shoved half way down, shirts rucked up, hands and mouths roaming. You weren’t subtle, you weren’t careful. Everyone knew you were fucking, but no one really cared. As long as it didn’t interfere with work.

It had been a knife to the gut to open that file folder and find your name. The file had it all. You’re a double agent, had been the entire time. You’re actively working to take down several operations within the DIA from the inside. And you were good. You probably wouldn’t have been caught if not for the last job – maybe he had distracted you. He had almost wished he hadn’t, wished you had been on top of your game, wished he didn’t have to kill you.

Now he’s slumped on the floor with a real knife in his gut. Yours.

“It was always going to be you, huh?”

#Dave York #Dave York fics #Dave York fanfiction #Dave York x reader #Dave York x f!reader #Dave York x you #Equalizer 2 fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #prompt fills

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ok-boomerang · 8 months ago

Text

if those two don't kill each other, Sokka might lend a hand

a zutara drabble

HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO MY DEAREST @hneyteacup. I wrote a birthday drabble inspired by one of your faves, SPUFFY. I however have never seen Buffy and in fact I just found out the fate of Spuffy approximately 30 seconds ago lol, BUT STILL, this drabble is inspired by them, for you 💕 HBD!!!! ILY!

The others might buy Zuko’s little transformation, but not Katara.

She knows exactly how sympathetic he can make his sorry life seem, all in the pursuit of Fire Nation supremacy.

So that’s why she’s been interrogating Zuko in his room for the past 15 minutes. She’s made him promise he won’t fire bend at her, and she did not feel a tinge of regret when he frowned and said he would never, sounding almost hurt.

Even so, Katara stands at the ready in front of him, hands sheathed in water just in case Zuko decides to break her rule.

“So you’re telling me you saw the soldiers that were following us back in Fire Fountain City. And yet you can’t describe them?” she asks, voice dripping with disdain.

Zuko groans and rolls his eyes, almost as if this was nothing more than an annoying hassle for him rather than the serious interrogation it was. He waits a beat, staring angrily at the floor, before he lifts his head to meet her eyes.

“Well, they were human,” he says, voice annoyingly sweet. “Two legs. Two arms.”

Katara scowls.

“They were wearing helmets,” Zuko says in exasperation. “Am I supposed to be able to recognize soldiers by the way they walk?”

“Maybe!”

At this point, Sokka enters with a steaming cup of tea. He takes one look between the two—the scowl on the prince’s face and the murderous intent on Katara’s, and mutters, “Not sure you know what you’re doing, sis.”

At this, Katara transfers her glare to her brother, though he only rolls his eyes too.

Katara huffs and takes the tea that Sokka brought, silently dismissing him. Sokka sends what seems to be an apologetic look (traitor!) to Zuko before wordlessly exiting.

“It’s about time,” says Zuko when Katara hands him the mug of tea. “Hope he got it warm enough, since you’re forbidding me from bending.”

Katara ignores him. “How did you even get here?” she snaps, hoping that asking this question for the umpteenth time will expose how he’d been following them for weeks (which was likely!) or how he’d kidnapped some of their friends to get their location (even more likely!).

“I told you; I stole a war balloon and followed you from Caldera.” He takes a sip of his tea and sighs. “I’m done. Let me talk to Aang.”

“Not yet! I’m not done!”

Zuko purses his lips but doesn’t argue any longer.

“How did you break into the North Pole?” Katara finally asks.

Really? Zuko’s expression seems to ask.

For some reason, he smirks at her. “Hmm, I’m not sure.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m trying to remember,” he says, putting down his tea to make a show of tapping his chin. “It was very traumatic.”

“How long are you going to pull this crap?”

“How long are you going to keep me prisoner in my own room?”

Katara sniffs. “I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me something worthwhile.” Until he proves to her that allowing him to stay here will have some sort of benefit.

“Fine,” Zuko says, lying back and stretching out on his bed. One arm holds his head up as he watches Katara over his nose. “We can stay here all day and all night, with you—what did you call it?—interrogating me.” He smirks again, the crooked expression on his face downright infuriating.

Katara abruptly changes tactics, crossing her arms and stepping toward him, the water falling from her hands in large splashes that she ignores. “You know what, I don’t think you want me to leave you alone,” she says slowly, her lip curling in satisfaction. “I’m the only one who will talk to you, anyway.”

Zuko’s smirk falls, and Katara feels a little flame of triumph in her chest roar to life.

“Right, I don’t want you to leave me alone,” he parrots, the bite back in his voice. “I definitely want to be constantly reminded how much you hate me.”

Katara does not feel another twinge of regret. She does not push anything away.

Instead, she falls to her knees with a mocking gasp.

“Does his highness require better accommodations?” she says, her voice warbling. “Better amenities?”

“Katara—” Zuko says, unamused.

“An innocent victim to burn, perhaps?”

“Katara, please—” Zuko says, voice more serious. But she keeps going.

“Do you require a maiden before you cooperate?” she taunts, crawling toward him and exposing her neck. “What about me? Will I do?”

At this point, Zuko is exhaling smoke, but he’s not bending. She wonders how far she can goad him. She crawls closer until she’s at the edge of his bed and mockingly reaching toward him.

“Please, your highness, what must we do to please you?!” she all but shrieks, vaguely feeling like she would make a great actress as Zuko slowly shakes his head, as if to say What did I do to deserve this?

Well, she can think of a lot of things!

Just when she thinks of naming all those things to Zuko, she suddenly hears the swish of a cloak behind her and the sound of wood hitting the ground. Her and Zuko both turn toward the noise, to see Aang, a confused smile on his face, his ears a little pink, and his glider in his hand.

“Um—Katara—I think I’ll talk to Zuko now,” says Aang slowly, eying her strangely. She’s about to ask what’s up with him before she realizes her arms are sprawled beseechingly toward Zuko, her body half on his bed and half on the ground.

“Right, yes!” she says, getting up daintily and wiping her tunic with her hands as if what she’d been doing was perfectly normal. “I’ll just be—”

Inexplicably, she looks back to Zuko, who is also watching her, bemused.

“Bye!” she squeaks to the room with a hurried wave.

She’s talking to Aang, of course. Not Zuko.

Definitely not Zuko.

#zutara #zuko x katara #zutara fanfiction #drabble #bday drabble #for ej #many thanks to susiesundrop for helping me with the Spuffy Dynamic (tm)

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sunlightandsuffering · 7 months ago

Note

Any updates on those drabbles 😣🫣🫣

IT'S GOING WELL AHAHAHAH !! Here is one I wrote just from my own inspo bc I was listening to Drake, it's kind of silly, but Eren is totally a frat bro who listens to Drake and thinks he's the shit lmfaoooo! I was listening to girls want girls and I was like Mikasa totally HATES him for this and I couldn't get the mental imagery out of my head lol !!

“Go on Mikasa, you’ll be late and Eren won’t want to take you home.” Mikasa scowls miserably at the reminder, her lip curling up, teeth clenched together as she realizes what the next hour and a half of her life has to offer her.

“Maybe I should get a buss pass.” “Mikasa hush,” Her mother chastises her, pushing her towards the door, her backpack in hand and a bag of chips for the road. She feels like a school girl being shooed off for her first day of kindergarten, her mom tugging at her hair fretfully, righting the small green t-shirt dress that she now regrets wearing immensely.

When her mother is finally pleased, she steps back, one last perfunctory glance over before she nods to herself resolutely, “You look very nice.” Mikasa scowls harder and her mother makes a noise of irritation, “You’ll wrinkle, stop that!”

She forces her face into a neutral expression just as her mother pushes her out the door with one last lingering kiss goodbye, “Have a good drive darling, be nice to Eren. He’s doing you a favour you know!” And that’s how Mikasa finds herself in the familiar situation, high school all over again as she waits at the end of her walk way, backpack in hand, and chillier than she should be in the warm spring weather. Damned green dress, she should have worn ripped jeans, the wind is too cold on her exposed thighs. And of course, Eren is fucking late. Mikasa glances down at her watch again, 6:15, he was supposed to be here ten minutes ago, had texted her that he was leaving from his obnoxiously large house down the street. She could have fucking walked there and been faster.

Her irritated thoughts are interrupted by the tell-tale sounds of Eren’s arrival, thumping base, engine so loud it shakes the street lamps. It’s a brand new Subaru, sleek black and tricked out so much she doesn’t even want to know how much money he’s dumped into it.

She fucking hates the thing, it’s obnoxious. Yet, she also can’t deny the little flutter in her heart every time he pulls up to her house in it, what the neighbours must think of her, that she has a handsome rich boyfriend at her beck and call. She doesn’t, she has an idiotic sexist frat boy instead.

The only thing louder than the engine of Eren’s stupid car is his music, and he pulls up, windows down, the undeniable beat of a Drake album infecting her ears. His sunglasses slip down his nose as he pulls up, one hand on the steering wheel, the other reaching towards her out the window, a sweet serenade… if not for the fucking lyrics. “Say that you a lesbian, girl me too.”

This is Mikasa’s final straw, her mouth parted in pure outrage as the music pours over the street. “I’m not getting in the car.” Her voice is barely audible over the engine and the base and Eren pouts as he turns it down, putting the car in park, “What?” “I’m not getting in the car.” Eren groans, “Mikasa.” Is it too late to take the bus? She glances towards the lone bus stop a few paces down the street, the bus she’s never taken because she’s always had her irritating neighbour to chauffeur her around. She vacillates for a moment, but one look at Eren’s smug face, the disgustingly expensive dior shades slipping down his nose, the tight grey t-shirt clinging to his arm.

Mikasa starts walking. “Miki,” Eren whines, and she makes it several paces away before he’s following her at a crawl, “Please my mom will kill me if you take the bus.” “I’m not getting in the car if you’re going to play that.” “It’s Drake!” Eren exclaims as if this excuses his faux pas!

“It’s sexist as hell and a little homophobic,” Mikasa bursts and Eren sighs deeply, “If I turn it off will you get in the fucking car?”

“I’ll consider it.” He pauses it for a moment, putting the car back in park and gesturing for her to get in.

Mikasa acquiesces, but only after an appropriate amount of glaring, she has to make him work for it. Eren opens the door for her from the inside, almost a gentleman but not quite, grabbing her backpack from her hands before chucking it into the back seat. “Why do you always have to be such a pain in the ass?” He asks without bite, his gaze honed in on her legs as she sinks into the plush leather of the passenger seat.

She smacks his shoulder, both for the remark and for the way he’s now unabashedly staring at her thighs where her dress has slipped just a little too high. And if she wore this dress for him, for exactly this reason, who is to say? He’ll never know.

“Ow,” His gaze finally snaps up to her face, the lips pulled into a pout, green eyes sparkling with amusement, “God you’re so mean to me Mikasa.” “Someone has to be!” He grumbles something in response and Mikasa holds her hand up threateningly, another smack to that ridiculously well-muscled arm of his. Because seriously she’d probably done more damage to her palm, who said he could be so muscle-y?

He fiddles with his phone for a moment, hitting the shuffle button and Mikassa glances at her own phone as she waits for him to drive off. The music cues up just as Eren’s hand grabs for the shifter, his foot shifting to the break peddle as he changes gears and Mikasa’s mouth parts in a mixture of shock and horror as the infectious beat of the next song slides over them, somehow even louder than before. “Bend that ass over! Let that coochie breathe!” It’s silent between them, save for the music between them, and she watches as Eren turns towards her almost robotically as ‘Rich Baby Daddy’ flows over the speakers. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Mikasa!”

She smacks him again, more aggressively this time, “It’s my drake playlist I just hit shuffle I swear.” She smacks him again for good measure, “Sexist asshole!”

He throws his hands up in surrender, trying to escape to his side of the car as he slips it back into park, “It’s not even sexy, really if you think about it, it’s women’s empowerment!” Mikasa almost assaults him in his own car, throwing herself over the console to get better access so she can finally throttle him.

He catches her wrist in his hands just as she makes her way across the console, her dress riding up much higher than is appropriate, threatening to show off the black lacy panties she’d chosen just in case she was feeling frisky.

“It’s a good song, don’t tell me you don’t bop to this during your gym sessions, c’mon Mika.” She will never admit that it’s on her running playlist, over her dead body, never! “I don’t!” Mikasa lies through her teeth and Eren manhandles her into a more comfortable position, tugging her all the way over the console and into her lap, and fuck why does she always end up in his arms? She’s breathing hard, fuming from their fight, hair a mess and cheeks ruddier than she’d like, he’s stolen her composure once again with barely a word.

Carefully, he reaches past her to change the song, looking at her with suspicion the entire time, letting her wrists go with the other, “Happy now?” “No,” Mikasa scowls and Eren groans, “You’re so sensitive.” “I am not!” She’s about to launch into another rant about the patriarchy and the sexism of male rappers and blatant sexualization of women in all these songs but Eren just shakes his head, “Please don’t lecture me again, I’ll let you pick the next song, I cannot do another hour and a half lecture.” She loses her steam a little, remembering the ride up from university back home for reading break, she might have gone a little overboard there. “Besides, it’s catchy, just admit it.” Mikasa pouts, “It is catchy.” “Thank you!” As she calms down she realizes she has once again found herself in Eren’s lap, in close quarters with the boy she likes to fuck on occasion, who haunts her dreams more often than should be allowed, and well, he’s definitely starting to notice too. His eyes are now locked on where her thighs bracket his own, how she’s sitting so pretty, that if they were naked he’d slip inside right now, and with how fucking wet she is it would be easy. Shit.

She’s about to sit up, but Eren’s hands settle over her thighs, rubbing tantalizingly up and down, warming her up from the inside out in her silly little dress. “You know,” Eren starts, his eyes locked on her mouth now, the teasing edge to his voice gone, replaced with something a little darker now, raspy with lust, “It’s really not sexist, actually kind of empowering.” “How so?” She asks, sinking further into his lap, just the hint of a grind as she feels him harden beneath her and god why does she always want him, even when he’s being a colossal asshole. “Rich baby daddy, I think she’s just using him for money, so really she’s winning here.” Mikasa scoffs, “Sure.” His mouth slips down to her neck, “You know if your birth control failed, I could be your rich baby daddy Mika.”

Eren speaks with all the confidence of a man who was inside her not two days ago and definitely came inside her without a condom, and she fucking hates that it turns her on.

He lays hot open-mouthed kisses up her neck, his teeth nibbling at her ear now, her heart in her throat, “Probably spoil you rotten to be honest, you’re too pretty to work Miki, think I’d keep you just for me.” “Fuck off,” She whispers but there’s no real heat behind it, not when his hands are skimming at the hem of her dress, teasing at the edge of her cunt. “I think you’d like it.” “I think I hate you.” “Nah,” He murmurs against her throat, “You don’t.”

And then he’s stealing her lips in a kiss that has her seeing stars, and she’s making out with Eren fucking Yeager in their neighbourhood cul-de-sac at 5:30 on a Sunday night, in prime view of dog walkers and horrified families.

Eventually, she forces herself off of him, glaring the whole time, and he lets her choose the music as penance, to which she chooses some Drake that’s a little more tame, not something she can get quite so up in arms about.

She pretends to pout the entire ride back to school, but she shares her all-dressed chips with him and when his hand finds her thigh ten minutes into the drive she doesn’t protest.

#lys's drabbles #fratboy and feminist au

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ellies-little-thing · 1 year ago

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Life goes on (e.w.) part 2

*not my images, but i edited it

My masterlist <3

pairing: young!ellie/young!reader

Warnings: fluf; reader is referred to as she/her; mentions of trauma; mentions of death and killing; just cute best friend stuff really; Kind of proofread, English is not my first language.

Author's notes: Hi! This was a request but im having a blast writing it! I hope you like it, I really liked writing it! Feedback is always welcome and likes and reblogs are always encouraged! Thank you! Enjoy! More parts to come!

word count 3.7k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

15 years old - Part 2

One day you and Ellie sneaked out of Jackson to explore for a bit. As you walked through the abandoned town, Ellie pointed out a building that looked like an old convenience store, maybe it had some stuff inside. Maybe you two would find some goodies and supplies. "You think we should go in?" She asks you, looking at you with a smile. You smiled back at her with the excitement in her eyes making them sparkle. “Sure, let's go Ells.”

"Great!" You get closer to the entrance as she opens the door and walks in, taking a peek inside and immediately seeing supplies stacked on the shelves. Canned food, some books, some toys… "Oh wow!" She exclaims at the sight. “Let's go get them!” That town had been cleaned out by patrol years ago so you knew you were not in any danger.

"Oh absolutely. The supplies here are going to be great for us!" You respond to her with a smile. Ellie starts to fill her bag with a good chunk of the supplies while also searching for other useful things. "What about you? What are you looking for?"

You open your bag and start putting supplies in as well, but then you notice a ton of books. You really liked reading and since all these books weren't in the town's library, you put as many as you could fit in your backpack. Ellie finishes filling her bag with some food, water, and bandages to take with her before approaching you. "Ready to go?" She looks at you.

“Ready!” You smile at her with your bag full of new stories. Ellie smiles back and starts walking out of the building with you. "So uh, I found something really cool! Wanna guess what it is?" She looks at you and makes a little playful face while waiting for you to guess

“Don't tell me, another joke book?...” You roll your eyes, her dad jokes were starting to get to you. Ellie giggles a little. "Well it's a book, but not exactly a joke book. Wanna guess again?"

“Is it… a comic book?” You try to guess. Ellie looks at you and has a big smile on her face. "Yes, it is! We found another comic book!" She was super excited, she didn't have this one yet. “Nice! One more for your collection!” You smile at her.

"Awesome! Well, let's find some place to sit and we can read it together." Ellie begins walking and holding your hand. You hold her hand too as you two walk through the town. It was a beautiful spring day and the flowers were starting to bloom all over. You could hear the birds singing and some bees flying around. Ellie giggles and leans against you as you walk together. After a few minutes of walking Ellie smiles at you and sets her bag on the ground once you find a bench to sit at. In front of you was a beautiful view of the mountains.

"Should we go ahead and read it now?" She asks excitedly. “Why wait?” You respond very excitedly as well, wanting to know what she had found.

"I like the way you think! Let's read it now!" Ellie grabs the book from her bag and opens it up to what appears to be the first page. “Superheroes, hum?” You say as you look at the cover.

"Mhm. Well this specific comic is called Spider-Man. It's about this really cool superhero who is named Spider-Man." She chuckles a little at the name. She reads the page again while looking at you. "You think it looks cool?"

“Oh, he looks really cool! I love his suit! You respond looking at the drawings of the teenage boy in his spandex, red and blue suit. You had heard of Spider-Men from older kids but never actually found any comics about it.

"I agree! I think he looks pretty cool." Ellie turns the page to the next one and continues reading it to herself. She seems excited to read the comic, occasionally glancing at you.

“Wow! a radioactive spider?? That's so cool!” You point to the spider on the page as it was biting Peter Parker on his hand.

"Mhm, and he can do all these cool things like swing from his web, stick to walls, and I read that he can also use his spidey senses? Like he knows when he's in danger or something I think. Pretty cool, right?" Her eyes were sparkling as she explained his powers to you.

“I wish I could do that to avoid the infected.” You let out in a sigh as you supported your head on your hands with both elbows on your knees. Ellie laughs a little and looks at you. "Maybe one day you can! I'm sure a radioactive spider wouldn't be too hard to find, right?" She giggles a little again and puts the comic book down on her lap for a moment. She seems to be thinking of something while staring at the book.

“I would web them all and end the apocalypse!” You say as you imitate the hand movements spider man does to shoot his webs out of his wrists.

Ellie laughs at your answer and starts to look through the book again. "That would sure be the perfect timeline, huh? Just a whole bunch of infected stuck in sticky white webs all around and then we can just... take them all out." She smiles and chuckles a little before continuing to look through the next page. You read alongside her. Ellie eventually starts reading the next page and then looks up at you.

"Oh wait, want me to read it out loud instead so you can hear it too?" She says smiling. “Sure, okay.” You smile back at her.

"Okay, then I'll read!" Ellie smiles and starts to read aloud. "So Spider-Man was swinging through the city when he came across a bank. He sees these guys run out with a bunch of bags full of money." She pauses for a moment and sighs.

"Wait, I can do some voices if you want... like I can read in different voices?" She says with a smirk, excited. “Let's hear them!” You encourage her.

"Alright. Well, let's see here... I can do Spider-Man's voice!" Ellie tries to sound like a gruff, deep voiced man. "And I can do some of the bad guy's voices!" Ellie then does a squeaky, high-pitched voice. "And I can also do a silly voice to mimic what I remember the police officer sounding like when he shows up later in the story." Ellie switches to a goofy and childish voice. You two laugh together as you read the comic book.

Ellie starts to read the next page while trying to mimic the character's voices. "So the bad guys try to get away and Spider-Man shoots webs at them to capture them. The police show up and the officer is talking to Spider-Man." Ellie does her silly voice again to mimic how the police officer sounds.

"Hey you! You with the spandex suit and the spider powers! We want to talk to you! Please don't run away from us!" Ellie giggles a little at her own voice, you giggle at her as well.

As you finish reading the comic book, you notice that it was getting late. “Maybe we should go back to Jackson, Maria is gonna kill us if we dont come back soon.” You say, a bit worried.

Ellie laughs a little and nods. "You're right... Maria will be absolutely furious if we don't get back! We'll have to run home if we want to get there in time to avoid her wrath." Ellie giggles as she looks at you. You pick up your things and get up from the bench. “Race you there?” You giggle as you start running.

"Oh you're on!" Ellie starts running as well, trying to catch up with you. As you two race, Ellie laughs a little and chases after you. You run as fast as you can, trying to win. Ellie caught up to you very quickly and laughed at how slow you were. "Did you think I was going to miss out on winning the race?" Ellie says this in a joking tone, while smiling at you

“Oh shut up! I was winning almost all the way!” You nudge her, catching your breath. Ellie laughs and nudges you slightly.

"Almost, but not all the way! You gotta be faster to beat me, silly! Next time I won't go so easy on you!" Ellie chuckles a little at her own confidence and continues walking back to Jackson with you.

As you arrive you walk into town together. As you both get back and walk through the gate, everyone outside seems to stop what they're doing and look over at you two. Ellie looks around and sighs when she realizes why. Maria was waiting for you at the end of the street with her arms crossed looking at you two.

"Maria is gonna be so mad..." Ellie seems a little worried about what Maria might say.

“Well, as long as we live I think we're going to be fine.” You smile, joking a bit to lighten the mood. Ellie sighs and nudges you slightly.

"Well, if we live that means Maria won't do more than yell at us for leaving without permission." Ellie smiles slightly and follows you into Jackson.

“I need to go home, my mother is gonna be so mad at me.” You say realizing how long you two were out.

"Hey wait, I'm getting in trouble too. We'll go together. We'll both be yelled at together." Ellie chuckles a little and follows you as you start heading back to where your houses are.

“Thanks.” You smile at her.

"Well, what kind of friend would I be if I left you alone right now?" Ellie smiles back and follows you into your guy's neighborhood. "Just wait and see, Maria is going to really want to hear the reason why we left without asking."

Ellie stops walking once she sees Maria looking at her and smiles awkwardly. "Uh... hi Maria…'' She then looks down and chuckles nervously. "We were kind of... outside for a while..." You look at the ground too, a bit afraid.

Ellie tries to think of an excuse as to why you both left but can't come up with anything that would justify your actions. "Um... we... had to... uh... go somewhere…" Ellie starts to stammer more as she speaks and looks at Maria.

“Hum.... we got some supplies?...” You say, a bit unsure that she will believe you. Ellie looks at you, hoping you can save her with what you said. "Y-yeah... we did! We got... uh... supplies? Yeah! We got some supplies!" You show Maria what you have in your bag.

Maria looks at you and nods when she sees the supplies you show her. "Well... I suppose you got some good stuff from being outside." She looks at Ellie and sighs. "You two still should have said something before leaving, though. No good reason to wander off without telling anyone and then coming back almost before curfew."

“Sorry... we’ll tell you next time…” You say in unisound. Maria sighs again and nods. "Alright, you two better go now. Don't be wandering off to anyplace else without telling anyone or you're both gonna get in a lot of trouble, okay? Now go on and head back home." She sighs and motions her arm in the general direction of your houses. When Ellie and Joel arrived they got assigned an empty house that no one was using, near yours. You both start walking and Ellie looks at you and smiles a little. "Well, that wasn't so bad, right?"

“I guess, we still have our heads, that's a plus.” You smile at her as you continue walking.

"Exactly! We're not dead, so I'd count that as a success." Ellie laughs and nudges you slightly as you two walk back home.

After walking for about 15 minutes you arrive at your house and can see your angry mother through the window. “Well, this is me, my mom is going to be so mad, see you tomorrow yeah?” You say to Ellie as you arrive at your place. Ellie looks over at you and nods. "Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow. You stay out of trouble, hear?" Ellie smiles and gives you a quick hug.

“You are the trouble maker, not me!” You hug her back.

"Oh yeah, that's right. I completely forgot that I'm the only one to blame." Ellie chuckles a little. "Well anyways, I have to go home too so uh... see you tomorrow?"

“See you tomorrow, good night Ells.” You go inside your house. Ellie waves and smiles at you. "Bye, see you tomorrow!" Ellie walks back over to her house too, where she is met with an upset Joel.

As you enter you say, “Hey mom... sorry for going out without warning you, but i got us some food at least…” You say in a low tone not to anger your mother.

"Y/N? Where have you been?" Your mother has a serious look on her face and looks like she's in a bad mood.

“Sorry, I was out with Ellie and lost track of time…” You start explaining.

"Ellie? Who's Ellie?" Your mother looks confused about who the other girl is and continues to stare at you. "Is she from school?"

You looked down and stayed quiet, not wanting to answer any of your mother's questions. “She's my best friend mom… You know her.. she arrived last year…”

"I see. Well, I'm just glad that you're home safe. Still you shouldn't have left without asking, I was starting to get worried." Your mother still looks like she's a little upset with you.

“I won't do it again, promise.” You say embarrassed.

"You better not do it again. Now tell me what exactly you were doing." Your mother still looks serious but isn't as mad anymore.

“We were just exploring and we found some cool stuff, food, more books and comics as well.” You start telling her what you were up to.

"Comics? Comic books? Are you still wasting your time with those?" Your mother looks annoyed as she says this. "I don't like it when you read those, I've told you that so many times already."

“Sorry…” You look down.

"No no, I don't want apologies. I want you to stop wasting your time with comic books. Those things are nothing more than a waste of time." Your mother shakes her head and looks disappointed. "Now that you're home, go get changed into something more appropriate. It's dinner time."

“Okay…” You walk to your room and change out of your dirty clothes into something clean. "Good." Your mother keeps watching you, seeming to make sure that you went to change. "Once you're ready, come to the table. We have chicken and vegetables for tonight."

You put your new books on the shelf next to the rest of your collection and come back for dinner. You walk over to the dinner table where your mother and father are sitting. Your mother points to your seat and you sit down. "Sit down and eat your dinner. We're running late tonight." Your mother motions to the food that is on the table with her hand. You sit down and start eating. Your father doesn't say a word but you know he's really mad at you.

You quietly eat your dinner as your mother watches. "You have to learn to make better decisions. If you had just told us where you were, then none of this worrying would have happened…" Your mother looks at you and shakes her head.

“I'm sorry.” You say feeling bad about making your mother so worried. Your mother sighs and looks back at you. "It's alright. I'm just glad you're safe. Please don't go wandering off again without telling us, please?"

“Okay, I promise.” You say looking down at your food.

"Good. Now finish your dinner. I don't want you to leave the table until your plate is clean, alright?" Your mother looks serious again as she speaks to you. You finish dinner and go to your room. Your mother watches you as you walk away and tell her and your father goodnight.

"That book collection is starting to take up too much space in your room." She says this in a warning tone as she watches you leave and walk to your room.

You decide to relax and lay back on your bed, pulling out one of the comic books that Ellie lent you and start reading it. You don't know what is up with you lately, but tonight you can't stop thinking about Ellie's smile as she read that stupid comic book and the funny voices she gave to the characters. She looked very beautiful today, in your defense.

The next day Ellie wakes up and looks over at the clock on her nightstand. "Hmm... 8:30 already. I guess I'll go get ready for the day so that I'm not late." Ellie smiles as she thinks this to herself and then gets up and walks to the bathroom to start getting ready for school.

You do the same, You wake up and take a shower. You get ready, eat some breakfast and leave home to go to school.

Ellie finishes taking her shower and then gets dressed too. She grabs her backpack and her school supplies before going downstairs to the kitchen where some breakfast is waiting for her. Ellie eats her breakfast and then grabs her backpack before heading towards the door. "Bye Joel, I'll be home after school."

Joel looks up from the book that he was reading and responds to her. "Alright, make sure you come back straight after school. I don't want you staying out late tonight again."

Ellie looks and gives Joel a quick smile before leaving the house. "I'll be back later, I promise."

You spot Ellie as you walk to school. Ellie walks down the street and spots you too. She quickly ran over. "Hey! Wait for me!" Ellie smiles and walks next to you as you both head to school.

“Hey!” You smile back at her.

"Hey! How are you doing? Have you read any more comic books lately?" Ellie asks this as she laughs a little bit and starts walking with you.

“I finished the one you lent me.” You respond happily.

"Oh, you did? That's awesome! What did you think of it?" Ellie seems excited and smiles brightly as she walks with you.

“It was pretty cool, thanks Ells.” You take it out of your bag and give it back to her. Then you continue walking looking at the ground.

"No problem. I'm just happy that you enjoyed it." Ellie smiles and nudges you slightly as you both walk towards school. She had started to think about you as more than a friend for some time now. She always knew she liked girls, but you were her best friend, and she was having a hard time accepting her feelings for you. She was afraid you'd reject her and lose you forever.

School was pretty normal that day, nothing interesting happened. You learned about electricity and how the dam gave the town the energy it needed to survive. You tried to stay concentrated but Ellie was always throwing you papers with stupid stick figures drawn on them of you two and your adventures together. You secretly loved and kept every one of them.

After school you two go to the park and sit on the swing, where you first met, for a bit together. Ellie smiles as she sits on the swing next to you. "I haven't been on the swings in a while. It's nice to take a break and relax." Ellie closes her eyes and sighs happily as she starts to swing back and forth.

“Yeah, me neither, I missed them.” You say, remembering all the good times you and her have had here. Ellie smiles and leans back on the swing slightly as she looks over at you.

"I remember when we met and I'd come to play with you everyday." Ellie then laughs a little. "Remember when I couldn't go on the taller swings?"

You laugh a bit. “That was pretty funny to see you do.”

"Yeah! You used to always be so worried about me whenever I tried to go up on the taller swings." Ellie chuckles a little again. "Then you'd try to get me to come down but I'd just go anyway, 'Come on! It's not that high! Stop worrying about me! I can do it!'" Ellie laughs and starts to swing back and forth a little faster.

You start swinging as well. Back then, Ellie and you weren't very tall but she grew up a lot over the span of a year, as for you not so much. But you don't mind being only 5 feet tall, Ellie had told you you looked cute the height you were, so you felt a bit better about it. Ellie swings back and forth for a little bit and closes her eyes again. As she's swinging, she thinks of all the memories she has with you and smiles. She never wants to forget them.

You liked hanging out at Ellie's place and listening to music on her vinyl player of some old bands that you and she had found. Sometimes you even jumped on her bed together not being able to stop giggling to each other. You'd end up laying down together as the music still played in the background catching your breaths.

She liked drawing you while you read her comic books. One day she found an old polaroid camera and some film. She took a photo of you and kept it on the wall above her bed. You thought that it was sweet. You were really starting to ‘like like’ her but what if she didn't like you back? Your friendship would turn so awkward and you didn't want anything to ruin it.

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams the last of us #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader

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marchyfrommars · 13 days ago

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Terrifier 3 (2024)

directed by Damien Leone, brings Art the Clown and his twisted accomplice Victoria Hayes back for a holiday-themed gorefest, delivering a brutal yet darkly humorous take on the slasher genre. Packed with over-the-top kill sequences, gruesome practical effects, and nods to classic horror films (Black Christmas, go watch it)

Let’s start with this: if you’re the type of person who associates Christmas with warm cocoa, carols, and sparkly lights... well, Terrifier 3 will take your gingerbread house, smash it with a sledgehammer, and then use your candy canes as weapons. This movie turns Christmas into an industrial-strength bloodbath that makes Home Alone look like a Hallmark special.

Art the Clown, the silent assassin who is somehow both funnier and scarier than your weird uncle at Christmas dinner, is back. And wow, he’s really into the holiday spirit—if by "spirit" you mean "creative ways to ruin someone's life." From wearing a Santa suit to making ornaments out of intestines, Art’s festive flair is as twisted as his grin. This movie doesn’t just “push boundaries”; it straps them to a rocket and launches them into space. Within 15 minutes, I was already questioning my life choices—why did I eat before watching this? The kills are so graphic and over-the-top that they feel like a Mortal Kombat game set at the North Pole. At one point, I almost expected Art to yell, “Finish them!” while using tinsel as a garrote.

To dive a bit deeper into the kills. Well, it was a passive kill but what Miss Victoria did to her Virgina was definitely something… it wasn’t even one of the big scenes but “my highlight” of the story. Oh, the story? Let’s be honest, we’re not here for that. We’re here for Art’s antics, and boy, does he deliver. He murders people with the kind of creativity that would make MacGyver blush. But then they try to make us care about deep themes like PTSD. Damien Leone, we appreciate the effort, but let’s just admit it: we came for the bloodbath.

And one thing: I hated the hype. All these little Spoilers on Instagram and TT. I wish I could have walked in without expectations. Maybe then I would have been more shocked.

Waxing Gibbous (4/5) 🌖

#terrifer 3 #gore lover #horror #horror film #movie review #movie recommendation #art the clown #terrifier #gore movie #christmas #slashers

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kasagia · 2 years ago

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♡Be my Valentine♡

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader

Summary: The day of lovers came like a bolt from the blue. You were planning to stay in your house, make yourself a huge pizza, and celebrate another year of being a single, self-sufficient woman. But you forgot that having the original hybrid as a lover-enemy (more like a puppy/wolf madly in love with you) comes with all sorts of surprises.

Word count: 4,4k+

My bloodthirsty alarm clock has been bothering me for 15 minutes. I promised myself that this time I would give up throwing a metal object and save myself the few dollars I used to spend on a new alarm clock every month. I groaned, rolling out of bed and getting up to turn off the death machine. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and threw myself back on the bed to check my messages.

Queen of school: Don't forget about the Valentine's Ball! I want to see you there with some sexy guy, so this freak-ancient hybrid will finally give you peace. P.S. Don't even think about missing it. I'll make Stefan or Damon come for your lazy ass.

Love you too, Gilbert. :-P

I groaned as I put a pillow over my face. It completely slipped my mind that today is this bloody holiday. Caroline will kill me if I try to avoid this annual nightmare again. I had to find a way to get out of this. Last year I had an unannounced visit from my mother, and two years ago I went skiing with Elena (who had broken up with Matt and was as reluctant to participate in this stupid holiday as I was). Maybe this time Bonnie could help me extricate myself from this?

Hello, my best friend ever! Could you help me hide in the darkest hole in this town so I didn't have to go out today and risk my mental health being completely damaged after seeing all these copules who will be sucking each other's faces and pelting each other with chocolates, flowers, and God knows what else?

Bon_Bon sweetheart: Are Caroline or Elena making you go to the party again?

Yes. On pain of death.

Bon_Bon sweetheart: You three are such drama queens. Give me five minutes. I'll come to you and help you with your excuse.

Thank you! You've always been my favorite.

Bon_Bon sweetheart: Don't let Caroline hear that!

I sighed in relief as I put my phone down. Immediately after, it buzzed, signaling an incoming call. Rebekah.

"What's up?" I asked after answering it.

Rebekah and I formed a sort of friendship after she joined our school. Of course, the girls were furious, but with time, they grew accustomed to my strange, warm-hearted relationship with Mikaelson. Actually, not only one of them. Kol was surprisingly nice after our many fights over every food I had, he liked to mess with me, especially after he saw I didn't shy away from teasing him just because he was an evil, crazy original vampire. Elijah and I somehow ended up together in the public library, discussing a book we were both reading. Since then, I've had three "friends" of the originals.

There was only one problem in this strange, twisted life of an ordinary man among the vampires, witches, and werewolves that I managed to lead. And there weren't fights between my two groups of friends. The problem was called Klaus Mikaelson. A man who turned our relatively quiet life in Mystic Falls upside down. A vampire who wanted to use Elena's blood to make hybrids similar to him (which she refused to do, as if taking her magical blood every month and giving it to Klaus wouldn't bury the hatchet between bloodthirsty vampires and bring us peace again).

"Can you tell me why all of the people are acting crazy? I mean, they aren't usually normal, but today they are unreasonable! Every wall is plastered with strange hearts, angels with arcs, and other red and pink damn things. We're celebrating a day of ripping people's hearts out, or what's the point?" she asked, both annoyed and confused by the whole situation. Just let it wait until Valentine's Day mail. Then a real nightmare happens.

"Almost. Have you ever heard of Valentine's Day, or has your ancient ass been kept in that musty coffin too long for you to know such a thing?"

"What?"

"In short. There was this one guy who decided that he had to set aside one special day in the year when people would declare their sincere, undying love for each other. And attention. Today is that day. So if you have a boy you're crazy about, you might as well go out with him tonight. If you don't have such plans, you can join me. We'll watch a movie, eat junk food, and complain about all men on this earth." I suggested as I walked into the kitchen and made sure I had everything I needed to survive this day.

"You seriously don't have anyone you would like to spend this day with? Did you see yourself in the mirror?! You're beautiful and…"

"Thank you. But I don't want to go out, find some guy, and have fun with him just because this holiday expects it of me. I'm not looking for one-night stands or something like that. Plus, I could use a day off from the drama of Mystic Falls."

"As you wish. I guess I'll try my luck and try to find someone. Hang on there!"

"Good luck! Have fun, honey!"

As soon as I hung up, I heard a knock on the door. I changed quickly, tying my hair as I went, and opened the door. Bonnie wrinkled her nose at my messy state.

"Hi girl. You really don't want to go, do you?" she asked, entering the apartment and looking around. It's a good thing I cleaned up last night.

"After planning a whole beautiful day of doing nothing? No thanks. I just hope Caroline will forgive me." I replied, leaning against the door and staring at the witch.

She has changed since she found out who she really is. She became bolder, more persistent, and fiercer. Like all of us, I guess. Sometimes I miss those quiet days when vampires and werewolves were just fantastic inventions. Everything was simpler then.

"She might be a little pissed off, but she'll understand. Caroline just wants you to be well. She thinks you haven't gotten over your breakup with Luck yet and wants to help you." she tried to defend her friend's behavior.

However, we both knew that Caroline's dominant side wasn't just the result of her caring. She liked to stick her nose in other matters; the fact that she was trying to save the whole world at the same time was the only reason why we turned a blind eye to the blonde's behavior.

"As if being single was a punishment, not a choice. Just because I didn't jump into the arms of some other hot, dark-haired guy doesn't mean I'm still grieving the breakup with that asshole." I grunted, annoyed. I was able to fully take care of myself. I didn't need a man to lean on, especially not after what happened with my ex. Life alone was easier.

"I know. That's why I bring you this." she took a small glass bottle from her leather bag and handed it to me.

"What is it?" I asked, taking the vial from her and turning it over in my hand.

"Potion. A couple of sips, and you'll have a terrible cold. Take it when one of the guys comes to check on you. As soon as he's gone, eat a black peppercorn, and you'll be back to normal."

"Wow. How do you know that? You're becoming a more advanced witch, Miss Bennet. 5 points for Hufflepuff." I said with admiration. I have always loved witches and hags depicted in literature, so having a real one as a friend was a real blessing for me. That doesn't mean I'd give up joking about Bonnie's extraordinary abilities.

"Really funny. Now excuse me. Unlike you, I'm going to school, and I still have to pick out a dress, and unfortunately, I don't have a rich hybrid at my beck and call. Why don't you go out with him if you don't have anyone else? This will keep Caroline from letting you go. Also, he seems to be more peaceful for us after he spends a day with you." she tapped me on the arm with a mischievous smirk.

"Yeah. And right after the perfect date, I will confess my great love to him by getting down on one knee and proposing to him."

"If that's what you want. Happy Valentine's Day, grouch!" she screamed with a huge smile, closing the door behind her. A strange feeling of hope ran through my body.

After all, maybe it's going to be a good day.

~♡♡♡•♡♡♡~

*A few hours later*

"It's a pity you got sick today." Stefan said after he took my temperature.

The vampire was delegated by Caroline to get me out of the house at all costs. Luckily, Bonnie's potion worked perfectly, and that's how I ended up wrapped in the warmest blanket on the couch with my few-hundred-year-old friend.

"I know. I really wanted to go to the ball and see how you and Caroline won the prize for being the best couple." I said, blowing my nose into one of the handkerchiefs.

"Do you believe in us so much?"

"Well, after Tayler swore to make Klaus' life miserable, he didn't work well as her boyfriend. They were cute at first, but it all went to hell. So take your chance before some other handsome guy hangs around her. Like Kol or Elijah." my taunt was met with a small snort from the man.

"Speaking of the Mikaelsons. How's your fledgling relationship with Klaus? I'm surprised he didn't call in the entire medical team from the hospital to check on you." he replied amused when he noticed how my smile fades along with the memory of the original.

"You think you're funny, Salvatore? Aside from your feeble attempt at joking, I must also point out your poor choice of words. Me and Klaus have no relationship."

"Of course. The guy just sends you fancy, expensive dresses every time there's a party in Mystic Falls, sends you love notes with your portraits on them, is there for you almost 24/7, and scares away any potential guy who wants to date you." he teased, counting on his fingers all the deeds of the original.

"He did what?! Who the hell he scared?" I sprang off the couch, dropping a box of tissues as I went.

"I witnessed him almost stabbing Kol for saying you looked scathing in one of those dresses he sent you. Poor Elijah had to look for you all over the school so you could distract your hybrid." he laughed a little at the indignation on my face.

"He isn't mine." I growled, returning to my comfortable spot on the couch.

"Tell him, not me. So, you don't happen to have a date with that wolf in love?" he asked, suddenly curious, leaning in my direction with searching eyes and a mysterious smirk on his lips.

"Pigs will fly before I date that damn imbecile." I snorted, pushing him away from me to reach for another tissue. Bonnie seems to have overdone the potency of this wonderful potion.

"Well, think it over. If Damon sees flying pork in Mystic Falls tomorrow, he'll probably go abstinent. You could inherit his share of our old wine collection from him."

"Did Caroline send you to act as my and Klaus' matchmaker for her?"I asked, leaning over to the vampire to eye him suspiciously.

"Not that blonde. But it was Caroline who finally convinced me. You don't even know how a common goal can unite even the worst enemies. Have a good time!" he shouted, pushing me onto the couch and grabbing his phone off the coffee table.

"Stefan! Wait!" I tried to stop him, but thanks to his super speed, he escaped from my apartment.

I snorted, muttering curses at the vampire under my breath as I stood up to close the door behind him.

It was usually Caroline, Bonnie, and Rebekah who teased me about Klaus' supposed feelings for me. The girls would make suggestive, eloquent comments whenever me and Klaus did something together or paired us up for a particular task against the newest threats in Mystic Falls. They often used me as a "distraction" and "bait" for the original hybrid. Not to mention their whistling every time we somehow danced together.

Worst of all, though, was Rebekah's teasing after I stayed overnight at the Mikaelsons' and Klaus and I accidentally ended up in his bed. I will never forget her malicious tone of voice and the wave of shame and embarrassment that engulfed me after she said to Klaus: "You must not have tried hard enough, brother, since neither of us heard you had a visitor in your sheets."

Adding Stefan to their little "group of bullies" will only make their taunts worse.

My God, keep Kol away from their stupid plans.

I went to the kitchen to take "an antidote" for my illness. I made myself some popcorn and decided to watch "Pride and Prejudice" as my first movie tonight. Halfway through the movie, I heard a knock on the door. It could only be one person.

"If you don't have food with you, I'm not going to let you in, Bekah." I said as I opened the door. I froze in place when I finally saw who was on the other side of them. Klaus.

"Not this Mikaelson, love. I've heard you are sick, so I brought you this." he picked up the bundle in his hands, which smelled dangerously similar to my favorite food.

"How the hell did you get here? I thought you and Elijah were going on a reconnaissance mission or something like that, and you'd be gone for a week." I said, honestly surprised to see him.

"It's nice to know that you do care about me, love, and are taking the trouble to assimilate such information. Satisfying your curiosity, we came back early. Can I come in now?"

"It depends." I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.

"On what?" he asked with a charming smirk, leaning his head against the door frame.

"What is this?" I asked, pointing to the packaging.

"That disgusting, fiendishly spicy spaghetti that you've somehow taken a liking to lately."

"And what do you have in the other hand?" I asked as I saw him trying hard to hide something behind him.

"It's a surprise. I can't jump out with all my gifts right now, can I?"

"Make me regret this, and I'll ask Bonnie to cancel all my invitations again, even if it means I'll spend another half day letting my friends in, because amazingly, 90 percent of them are vampires."

"I won't make that mistake again, love. If you could…" he pointed at the door and the invisible barrier blocking him from entering.

"Come in, the bane of my existence." I sighed, turning my back on him to go back to my cocoon of blankets on the couch.

"You must admit, I'm the most handsome bane you could ever dream of."

"I don't know… you could be at least younger." I replied thoughtfully, smiling as his confident smirk faded.

"Ouch." he put his hand on his chest, close to his heart, pretending to be hurt. He carefully placed the packaging on the coffee table and handed me the gardenia bouquet, which he had been hiding behind his back all this time.

"And for what occasion?" I asked, taking the flowers from the softly smiling hybrid and looking at them for a moment. Despite my reluctance, I had to admit that they were beautiful and smelled amazing.

He nodded at the bouquet. I looked it over carefully, noticing a small piece of paper between the flowers. I opened the note, checking its contents.

Unpack your lunch.

There was no mistaking Klaus' perfect handwriting for anyone else's.

I frowned, glancing at the hybrid sitting carelessly beside me. The bastard pretended not to see my questioning look and watched the scene of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy in the rain with fascination, like nothing happened.

I snorted as I opened the box and started eating my spaghetti while continuing to watch my movie. At one point, I felt Klaus's arm slide precariously onto the back of the couch behind me, and the hybrid itself moved slightly closer to me.

He watched me for a moment, gauging my reaction. I decided to tease the vampire a bit and, sighing deeply, leaned back completely against him, resting my head on his shoulder.

He tensed up, gently wrapping his arm around me that he had placed on the back of the couch earlier.

When I had finished eating, I saw that there was a note on the bottom of the clear plastic box on the other side. I turned the box over, reading another note, much to the interest and excitement of the man sitting next to me.

Check your jacket pockets.

I turned my gaze to Klaus. I looked into his eyes, trying to see the shadow of any plan he was hiding.

"Any problem, love?" he asked, pretending to be a fool.

"I don't know yet." I mumbled, licking my mouth. His gaze flicked from my eyes to my lips. He leaned toward me, getting dangerously close. His attention returned to my eyes, trying to anticipate my next move. With a small, mischievous smirk, I shoved the empty box into his hands and pushed him away from me, getting up from the couch to walk over to the coat rack.

I slipped my hand into the pocket of my leather jacket, immediately sensing the tiny square note.

Go down.

I turned to the hybrid standing behind me. I held the paper up to his eye level, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"What's this?"

"Come and find out for yourself, love. I dare you."

I crossed my arms over my chest, giving him a defiant look.

"You know, I have a rather tempting counterproposal to stay in a warm and cozy home. I'm hardly drawn to the unknown with my friends' nemesis."

"It would be such a shame if Caroline somehow got to know that you're quite healthy and ready to go to her party. You had to leave your cozy couch."

"You wouldn't…" I walked over to him, giving him a menacing look.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" he accepted the challenge by taking a step closer so our chests were touching.

"Well played. Expect retaliation, love." I replied, trying to imitate his tone of voice when he gave people that nickname. The hybrid only laughed. He helped me put on my jacket, and placing his hand on my back, he led me out of the building.

We stopped in front of his car, on the hood of which was another card.

Let the handsome and hot chauffeur drive you to your destination.

"Handsome and hot? Someone's got a good imagination." I laughed, turning the note over in my hands. The man gave me a hurt look as he opened the passenger door for me. "Someone is also mysterious today." I teased further, walking over to Klaus to face him. "Really? Won't you tell me anything?"

"Careful, love. Curiosity killed the cat."

"And the satisfaction brought him back."

"If you want, I can work on your satisfaction later when we get back."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring his smug smirk as I got into his car without a word.

He was in the driver's seat next to me in less than a second and had already started the engine. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the main road out of Mystic Falls.

"Where are we going?" my question was met only by his silence. "Come on. I'm not jumping out of the car when you're going that fast anyway."

"Who knew you were so impatient, love? We'll be there shortly." he replied, glancing briefly at me. He smiled, obviously amused by my grumpy attitude.

"Who would have thought you could hold your tongue for more than five minutes?"

"Insults will get you nowhere, love." he smiled teasingly, looking at me for a moment.

"Please, Klaus. Tell me where you're taking me so I can tell you what a wonderful, loving, and caring guy you are that instead of handing me over to the bloodthirsty Caroline, you decided to take me on the adventure of a lifetime."

"That's better." I huffed angrily, moving as far away from him as possible. In the reflection of the window, I saw him roll his eyes. "If you must know, I'm taking you to the only place worth seeing in this awful neighborhood. Content?"

"Sufficiently." I turned to him with a mischievous smirk on my lips.

A few minutes later, we stopped in some forest. Klaus got out first, waiting for me to follow him. Hesitantly, I opened the door and walked over to him, immediately grabbing his hand. It was far too dark for hiking. At least if I wanted to get home in one piece without any tripping. The hybrid smiled softly, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. He moved confidently through the forest, guiding me along the forest path until we came to a cliff.

Still holding his hand, I walked to the edge, staring at the landscape before us. Not far away we could see a tiny waterfall, from which a river flowed further, stretching through the hills, valleys, and other elevations of the forest. But the most charming of all was the starlight reflecting in the fast current of the river and the sound of fir trees accompanied by the falling water.

I turned to look at the hybrid standing next to me.

Did I mention he laid a blanket, strewn rose petals, and lit several candles? No? So he did. How could I get back to my playful, mischievous mood after something like that?

"So… do you like it?" he asked uncertainly as I stared at him silently for a long time. Did I like it? I loved it.

"Yes. I like it." I replied instead, smiling shyly at him.

He led me to a blanket and took a rectangular box from his pocket, which he handed over to me after a moment's hesitation. I felt his expectant gaze on me as I unwound the bow. Before opening the box, I cast a fleeting glance at my companion. I've never seen him both so excited and… full of fear at the same time.

I sighed as I saw a beautiful silver bracelet with a pendant of a wolf howling at a silver moon, circled by a small bat, and a lapis lazuli-studded crown.

After my first fascination with the starlight reflecting object wore off, I noticed the smallest of all notes attached to the top of the box.

Will you be my valentine (and my queen)?

"Oh Klaus, I... it's..." The worry line on Klaus' forehead began to deepen as he began to assume I wanted to reject his cute confession.

"It's okay, love. I should have known it was too much. You don't have to say yes or anything. We'd best forget all about it. I will drive you back home if that's what you…" I shut him up by taking his face and putting his lips on mine.

I started to passionately kiss the paralyzed and shocked vampire. It took him a few minutes to realize what I was doing. He kissed me back and pulled me to him, so I was sitting on his lap. I smiled at the hybrid's grip, running my hand through his curly, velvety hair. We broke apart when I was completely out of breath. Breathing heavily, I smiled at the equally disheveled man.

"Well… I guess the answer is yes, then."

"Yes. I'll be your stupid valentine. But it'll take you a few more dates before you can call me your queen." I replied with a smile, tangling my hands in his hair.

"I can work with that." he whispered, never taking his eyes off mine. I cleared my throat awkwardly, unaccustomed to so much affection being shown toward me. I shifted my flustered gaze and started playing with his hair.

"Good. Now, tell me about the constellations."

"Isn't that too tacky by your standards?" he inquired, cupping my chin with one hand to refocus my attention on him.

"Yes, but I already do things I usually don't. We might as well continue to fulfill all the points of these romantic comedies."

"And what changed your mind?"

"I just have good company." he smiled and kissed my forehead, stroking my hair.

Klaus pulled me closer so I could lean against his chest. Out of nowhere, he pulled out a basket full of cookies, chocolates, and other sweets, along with a bottle of red wine. I turned slightly to look at his face as he held me tight in his arms and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Well. Let's just say I wanted to keep it as a consolation if you don't take my confession well and run away screaming from me."

"Selfish man." I snorted, reaching for the candy bar. It took all my strength to keep from laughing at the hybrid. The vampire, however, was too attentive and noticed my amused smirk.

"Try telling that to my siblings, and I'll lock you in my room and never let you out."

"You should know better than to threaten me with a good time." I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and went back to eating the sweets.

He sighed in shock at my seductive suggestion. After a moment, he rested his chin on my shoulder and pulled me closer to him.

"So? Was it worth leaving home?" he whispered in my ear, planting a few kisses. My cheeks warmed slightly. Even without seeing his face, I could tell he was smiling goofily now, very pleased with my reaction. I turned to him, meeting his loving gaze.

Definitely.

"Possible. But you'll have to convince me a little more to be completely sure." he smiled teasingly. I could see the mischief in his eyes before he started tickling my stomach.

I screamed as I tried to get out of his strong grip. During my (unsuccessful) struggle, I knocked us to the ground, landing on my back with Klaus on top of me. With his new position, his teasing movements intensified, making me gasp with laughter.

"Okay, you won! You won!" I screamed between fits of laughter. "It was worth it."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." I said, pulling him into (one of many) kisses tonight.

If it involves being his queen, I think it only takes him an hour to convince me… maybe even less.

After all, it was a very good day.

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henrysglock · 9 months ago

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It does actually upset me a fair amount that Henry's story is never about himself in fanon or canon.

TFS? Picked apart for byler parallels and willel content. Picked apart for Jopper content. Does Henry's story even register as anything more than background noise? Does it matter? Does he matter in his own story? Or is he only important as a support for someone else?

The VR game? Picked apart for byIer content, eImax content, wilIel content. Nothing to be said for Henry's childhood and time in the lab, which takes up more than a third of the game. Once again, Henry's ignored and sidelined.

For the majority of his life his story itself isn't even about him. Canon childhood? Revolves around Virginia and Brenner (and Patty, in TFS). Then he's just another dead kid in the obits. Even Patty seems to have forgotten him for whatever reason after he's taken by Brenner.

Canon teen-adulthood? Revolves around Brenner and El. He's a number, a caregiver for children who only exist because of him, but who will never be aware of that fact and the implications it carries, and a pet to Brenner...and maybe a coworker at best.

He doesn't exist as something actually lovable until El starts caring about him. His trauma as One doesn't exist until he gets his few minutes of "being quietly upset about 20+ years of mistreatment" time while he's surrounded by the corpses of children he was fond of, children that he more than likely didn't kill because they don't actually exist, given that they fucking move and blink out of existence altogether. (Even that is deemed too long by the fandom, who would really rather see cute, useless scenes of wiIlel. or byIer. or. or. or. Less than 15 minutes of words for 20+ years of abuse, and it's "too much". He's "joker-fied" for being upset at all. Really I guess he should just be grateful he got to tell his story before El blasted him into the ether (over something we can't actually prove he did), whether that ether be the darkness of NINA or the fires of Dimension X. Should he take a bow and leave gracefully? Would you like him to get down on his knees and thank the security cameras before he goes? Should he have pinned himself to the wall? Should the lamb get on the alter and tie its own legs for the sacrifice?)

He ceases to exist entirely outside of Brenner as soon as El's memories of him are wiped.

Henry only exists again in relation to crimes he's blamed for but there's only flimsy circumstantial proof linking him to.

Henry's blamed for the murder of children that often times blink out of reality altogether, children we only seem to see in a fucked up Matrix-like computer simulation. Children he sounded fond of, and who were fond of him in return, even if they didn't really know him.

Henry's accused of manipulating El, but there's no solid proof that he did so. In fact, there's more proof saying he didn't do that, and was genuinely trying to get her to leave out the tunnel...but we don't acknowledge that. We also don't acknowledge that he stuck El in a closet to keep her safe while he went out alone into only God knows what situation.

Henry's blamed for Will's disappearance, despite the fact that Vecna (whoever he is) makes no mention of Will at all in canon, and when he does make mention in the VR...Will's already in the UD/void Castle Byers. There's no actual evidence linking him to Will's kidnapping in the shed. Vecna notices Will, but as of yet we have no solid evidence that he stole him.

And if he were to come back for some kind of "redemption arc", which I hesitate to even call a redemption arc, since we have no solid proof that he's got a body count over [checks notes] two: Virginia, whose circumstances of death are muddled with TFS, and that one guard in 4.07. (Yes, only the one guard. He threw the other four. There's no confirmation that they were anything more than knocked out, especially in a scene where they make a point to clearly show who Henry killed.) We can't even say he killed Alice, since we haven't seen the circumstances of her death...in fact, it's more likely he didn't kill her, based on what we know about his powers. Henry has a reliable body count of two, and both of them arguably had it coming. One had just sold him and his best friend out to Brenner, two children as lambs to the slaughter on the alter of "give Virginia Creel her normal life back :((((", and the other was an imminent threat to his and El's safety.

So I hesitate to call his possible return a redemption arc, because what does Henry have to be redeemed for? And if he were to have this "redemption" arc, he'd likely be put on the chopping block for people who haven't given him a second glance since 1959 (El aside).

I mean...how fucking unfair.

An unloved child sold to a freak doctor, imprisoned and abused for 20 years, forgotten entirely for the next 7 years, and scapegoated to the nth fucking degree as soon as he's brought back into the picture not of his own volition but because Brenner and El and Nancy dug him up and decided he was definitely and unquestionably to-blame for everything.

And were he to be absolved of any association...he'd likely immediately be expected to sacrifice himself for the "greater good".

Like...this guy had better get a happy ending or so help me god.

#rant #long-ish post #henryposting

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anonymousewrites · 1 year ago

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Portal to My Heart (Book 3) Chapter Eleven

Loki x Reader

Chapter Eleven: Into the Light

Summary: (Y/N) tries to fix the Loom, but Miss Minutes and Renslayer cause problems.

(Y/N) held the Throughput Multiplier steady as Timely placed his device within it. Casey and Ouroboros looked on anxiously as they waited to see if it fit. It went in perfectly and whirred to life. The group grinned.

“Spectacular,” said Timely.

“Hell yeah,” said (Y/N).

Mobius wandered into the room with a cup of hot chocolate from the dispenser outside. (Y/N) furrowed her brow. He looked melancholy and stuck in thought. Before she could speak up, though, Timely spoke.

“What is that?” he asked, staring at the cup.

“This? A little Mobius pick-me-up, courtesy of the hot cocoa machine,” said Mobius.

“Did you say hot cocoa machine?” Timely blinked. He had never heard of such a thing.

“Yeah,” said Mobius, smiling.

“Mobius, we need your Tempad,” said Ouroboros.

Mobius handed it over while Timely continued, “You have a machine for that?”

“Yeah. You’re interested in this machine,” observed Mobius.

“Weird, this Tempad isn’t connecting well, either,” muttered (Y/N) in frustration. Between the glitches and her head pounding, she was not having a good day.

“About this hot cocoa machine…could I take a look?” asked Timely.

“Can you sit tight for just a second?” said Mobius, noticing (Y/N)’s irritation. “What do you mean?”

“I can take him,” said Hunter D-90, who had been helping them track Dox when she first left the TVA.

“Can you? Okay, Professor, he’ll take you,” said Mobius.

Timely brightened and eagerly followed D-90 out of the room and down the hall to learn about the marvelous hot cocoa machine.

“So, what’s the matter?” asked Mobius.

“OB and Casey’s Tempads weren’t connecting to the system correctly, so we thought maybe it was because of being in R and A and so far down for so long, but then we tried yours, and it’s having the same issue,” said (Y/N). “So OB’s running diagnostics.”

“So strange,” said Ouroboros. “All your files are being corrupted in real time. Did you download unauthorized games again?”

“No,” Mobius defended himself. “I’m not gonna make that mistake twice.”

(Y/N) snorted unceremoniously before focusing. “Well, if it’s not that, it means that something is messing with your Tempad.”

The moment after she spoke, a small animation of Miss Minutes popped up on the screen and said, “Uh-uh-uh.” She was blocking access to the Tempad and the systems.

“Shit,” said (Y/N). “It’s Miss Minutes.”

“She’s taken control of the systems,” said Ouroboros.

“That would explain why the Tempads weren’t working,” said (Y/N).

“Grab the multiplier and let’s get Timely!” said Mobius urgently.

Ouroboros picked up the multiplier and followed with Casey out after Mobius and (Y/N). They turned the corner to the hot cocoa machine, but Timely wasn’t there. There was just a cup with hot cocoa spilled over the floor. Sylvie and Loki walked down the corridor at the same time and frowned upon seeing them.

“What’s wrong?” asked Loki.

“Timely’s gone,” said Mobius.

“And Miss Minutes is taking control of the TVA’s systems,” said (Y/N).

The elevator dinged, and B-15 walked out with a despondent face. “Dox and her team are dead.”

“What?” Everyone’s heads snapped to her.

She nodded sadly. “Yes.”

“It’s got to be Renslayer,” muttered Sylvie. “I should have just killed her.”

The TVA rumbled as the Loom strained, and (Y/N) winced as her headache surged to life with each flicker of the lights.

“Is the multiplier ready?” asked B-15.

“Theoretically. We haven’t had time to test it, but without Timely, it doesn’t matter,” said Ouroboros “Without his aura, I can’t open the blast doors. We’re locked in.”

“Okay, well, we gotta find out who took him back to the timeline,” said Mobius. “Where else would they have taken him?”

Loki knelt and picked up D-90’s Timestick. “No. Renslayer doesn’t want him. She wants the TVA. They’re still here.”

(Y/N) nodded. “This is where she can take control again. She’s not leaving. This is her attack on the TVA.”

“Find them,” said Mobius. “We’ll make sure we’re ready for the Loom.” He ran one way in the corridor to clear the way, and (Y/N), Loki, and Mobius headed to the elevators on the other side. B-15 protected Ouroboros and Casey on their way to the Loom monitoring station in case Mobius came across Renslayer or anyone else and needed backup.

A boom echoed through the TVA as the Loom began to break down, and (Y/N) stumbled as the pressure in her head grew.

“Are you alright?” asked Loki and Sylvie simultaneously.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” said (Y/N), gritting her teeth. “I just need to focus.”

Sylvie and Loki exchanged a look. They had no idea why (Y/N)’s head kept hurting so much, but it was concerning, and they worried that it had to do with the Loom and the TVA. If it did, that meant she was in danger of being injured in some way. They wouldn’t stand for that. So, Loki and Sylvie ran forward even faster beside (Y/N), determined to find Timely and put a stop to the Loom’s deterioration.

On the way to the elevator, another fallen Timestick lay as a remnant of a hunter’s death. (Y/N) narrowed her eyes. Renslayer’s plans were getting more and more people killed already. She grabbed it as she ran, determined to take on Renslayer and stop further pain and suffering just because of her desire for power.

Loki pressed the button to call the elevator furiously as the PA system reported that it was time to go to the nearest evacuation point. (Y/N) frowned. She recognized those words, but she had no time to think about that.

The doors opened slowly, and (Y/N) and Loki sighed in frustration while Sylvie forced them open and stepped in. Above them, a security camera swiveled to watch them.

(Y/N) and Loki backed up towards the elevator, but the doors slammed before they could get in.

“Loki! (Y/N)!” shouted Sylvie in alarm, slamming the button to open the doors.

“Access denied,” said Miss Minutes’s sing-song voice.

“Sylvie, you okay?” called (Y/N).

“Yeah. I just hate that clock,” snapped Sylvie.

“She’s trying to slow us down,” said Loki.

“Take the stairs,” said Sylvie. “I’ll meet you up there!”

“Stay safe!” called (Y/N) as she and Loki turned and ran for the stairs.

“Warning, total Loom failure imminent,” said the PA system.

“Yeah, yeah, got it,” muttered (Y/N) as her headache grew.

The pair kicked the door of the stairs open and raced upwards. They burst out on the next floor. The hall was familiar, and as they slowed in front of the corridor of the elevator, a phone rang. They froze. (Y/N) reached out and touched Loki’s arm in surprise.

In front of them were another (Y/N) and Loki, not wearing the TVA jackets, looking harried and worried. The other Loki had a familiar timer in his hand, and they stood faced a ringing telephone and the elevator.

It was them from when they’d been trying to correct their time-slipping. This was the future they’d traveled to. That’s why there had been so much confusion and chaos and worry in the TVA. It was because of the Loom still breaking down.

The elevator doors cracked open, and Sylvie’s face appeared just like it had to them when they time-slipped (and how it was currently to their time-slipping versions. Past-selves. Other selves? (Y/N) already had a headache, so she decided not to think more).

(Y/N) and Loki looked at each other and down to their pruning sticks. They knew what they had to do. They ignited their Timesticks and walked forward quietly.

Sylvie forced the doors open and looked out. “There you are,” she said in relief.

“Sy—” began (Y/N)’s past self.

(Y/N) and Loki pressed their Timesticks into their past selves’ backs, and they were pruned. Their old selves groaned, and the other (Y/N) tried to turn to see who was behind her, but the moment she caught a glimpse of the figures—her future self—she was pruned and disappeared.

Sylvie’s face morphed to one of confusion upon seeing another pair of (Y/N) and Lokis.

“We told you we saw you when we were time-slipping,” said (Y/N).

Sylvie’s eyes widened as she realized what she had claimed was ridiculous was true. (Y/N) extended a hand and helped Sylvie climb out of the elevator while the phone continued to ring.

This time, Loki got to answer. “Hello?” he said.

“About time, what’s taking you guys so long?” said Ouroboros.

(Y/N) and Sylvie leaned in so they could hear everything, and (Y/N) huffed.

“OB?” said Loki, still surprised that this had been what was happening when they time-slipped to the future in their past (what a sentence to think made sense, and yet that was his life).

“Hurry,” said Mobius as a particularly loud rumble shook the TVA, and (Y/N) winced and massaged her temple.

“Miss Minutes is sabotaging everything,” said (Y/N) in frustration. “It’s slowing us down.”

“What?” said Mobius.

“I could take her offline and reboot the whole system,” suggested Ouroboros.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, reboot the whole system!” urged Mobius.

“But we’ll lose the entire safety system,” said Ouroboros.

“So what?” said Mobius. “What are we gonna lose at this point?”

“The security protocols will go down,” said Ouroboros.

“Like what?” said Mobius.

“Like the dampeners that prevent people from using magic at the TVA,” said Ouroboros.

(Y/N), Loki, and Sylvie’s heads snapped up to look at each other.

“We would have to turn that off, too,” said Ouroboros.

“Turn it off!” shouted (Y/N), Loki, and Sylvie.

Ouroboros slammed his hand down on the button, and the lights of the TVA flashed violently. The system shut off, and the emergency lights flickered on, barely there as the Loom surged power through the building.

(Y/N), Loki, and Sylvie raised their hands. Green light collected in Sylvie and Loki’s hands, and (Y/N)’s veins and eyes glowed a faint blue. She smirked.

“Great news. I’m angry enough to make a portal,” she said.

Loki grinned. “We’ve got Renslayer.”

They heard footsteps in the dark, and they retreated to the shadows. It was Brad, holding a Timestick. The coward had joined Renslayer while Dox and her people died deciding to do the right thing.

“It’s all you guys,” whispered (Y/N).

Loki grinned spoke, his words coming from every shadow in the hall. “What do you say, Brad? Fancy a rematch?”

Brad froze. Recovering quickly, he flipped his Timestick around and prepared to use it. Sylvie stepped out behind him, put her hands on his head, and finished him. Green light filtered into his head, and his mind was hers.

“Renslayer and Timely are in the War Room,” said Sylvie. Brad stood at attention beside her. “We’ve got our distraction.”

“We’ll go in one minute,” said (Y/N), holding up her hand.

“Let’s go,” said Loki, smirking.

Renslayer watched Brad reenter the War Room after she had sent him to check out the situation. “X-5, what’s going on?” she demanded. At the table next to her, Timely held his satchel tightly.

Brad (controlled by Sylvie) walked in and spun the Timestick around. “This is cozy,” said Enchanted Brad. “Come here for a second.” He took Renslayer’s hand and pulled her away from Timely. “Come here. Come here. Come here.” She looked at him in confusion.

Behind Timely, a blue portal opened up. (Y/N) grinned and waved to Renslayer. “Hi,” she chirped.

“No!” Renslayer lunged towards the portal, but Enchanted Brad grabbed her sharply and pulled her back.

“Victor, come on, time to go!” said Loki, running in through the door and grabbing Timely. He urged the man towards the portal as (Y/N) held it open. Timely jumped through, and Renslayer fought against Enchanted Brad.

“This time, you’re not coming back to cause trouble,” said Enchanted Brad, turning on the pruning stick. He pressed it onto Renslayer as the portal closed, and she disappeared from the TVA as her chance at power disappeared simultaneously.

Sylvie ended the enchantment, and she, Loki, and (Y/N) pushed Timely down the corridor.

“Which way, wizard?” asked Timely.

“This way. Elevator!” shouted Sylvie.

“You saved my life!” cried Timely.

“Of course,” said (Y/N) as they ran. “Time for you to return the favor!”

She nearly shoved him into the elevator and slammed her hand down on the button to get them back down to the R and A floor.

“He’s here!” shouted (Y/N), dragging Timely into the Loom monitoring room.

“Come on, hurry, right here,” said Ouroboros, pulling out the aura reader.

“Victor, this way,” said Loki. He looked at Casey. “What do we need to do?”

“The Throughput Multiplier is waiting in the airlock,” said Casey. “But first, we need Mr. Timely’s aura screened so we can get the blast doors open.”

“Just put your head in the scanner,” said (Y/N).

Timely coughed. “Is that safe?”

“It’s alright,” said Loki. He looked at Timely intensely. “You’ll be fine.”

Timely nodded stiffly and took his glasses off.

“Here, let me hold those,” said Mobius.

“Sir,” acknowledged Timely. He took a deep breath and pushed his head into the aura scanner.

It whirred, and an automated voice said, “Welcome, He Who Remains.”

The blast doors rose to reveal the Loom sparking with energy as it strained against the infinitely growing branches of timelines. The pressure in (Y/N)’s head sparked, and she winced and held onto the table behind her. It was growing unbearable, and the energy from outside pricked at her skin.

“It’s worse than I thought,” said Ouroboros. “We have to move fast. Who’s it gonna be?”

“I’ll do it. I’ll put the suit on,” said Loki. He was willing to sacrifice himself for his friends.

“No, I’ll do it,” said (Y/N).

“Absolutely not,” said Loki.

“No, no way,” said Sylvie.

“Come on, we have to go,” said B-15.

“It should be me.” Timely cut through the chaos.

“No, you don’t have to do this,” said (Y/N).

“But I do,” said Timely. “Something wrong could happen, and I know how the Throughput Multiplier works.”

“Okay,” said (Y/N), and the others nodded.

“Okay, okay, let’s go.” Ouroboros grabbed Timely and pulled him towards the antechamber. “No time to argue. Hurry. Follow me. Listen. Get in, get suited up. When those doors open, get down the gangway as fast as you can. Load the Multiplier, launch it, and get back. Got it?”

“Got it,” said Timely.

“Okay,” said Ouroboros.

“Okay,” said Timely. He smiled at Loki and (Y/N). “Time to be brave.”

“Good luck,” said (Y/N).

Timely nodded and descended to the antechamber. Everyone stood by solemnly and gazed out the windows at the gangway and the Loom as it rumbled with energy.

“How long will he have?” asked Sylvie.

“Not long,” said Ouroboros.

“He’ll make it,” said Loki, though he was doubtful.

“Yeah, I don’t know about these radiation levels,” murmured Mobius. “It’s worse than when I was out there.”

“He’ll make it,” said (Y/N), hoping her certainty was enough even if she had no control over it.

“Ready.” Timely’s voice appeared over the radio.

“Come on, let’s go, let’s go!” called Mobius.

“Here we go,” said Timely, and the doors to the gangway opened. He ran out, everyone held their breath, and the radiation swept over him.

His scream was cut short as he turned to spaghetti in an instant.

The watchers froze, and (Y/N) covered her mouth in horror. Timely was dead. She looked at Loki, and he could only look back in realization of what was about to happen. The TVA was going to be destroyed. And everything else…was doomed.

“What happened?” questioned Mobius. “What-Where is he? What happened?”

“It’s over,” said Sylvie despondently.

“Is he dead?” murmured B-15.

“The Temporal Radiation is just too high,” said Ouroboros.

“What happened?” asked Mobius.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t me,” said Casey.

Behind Loki and (Y/N), a chaotic discussion of what went wrong raged, but it meant nothing. None of them could fix what had happened, and the Loom was still breaking apart.

(Y/N)’s headache intensified as the Loom strained against the onslaught of timelines.

Boom!

The Loom exploded in a single moment, and a wave of bright temporal energy flew outwards. The golden light bore down upon them in a storm of destruction.

(Y/N)’s head pounded, and she reached for Loki’s hand. She held it tightly and turned to him. Black spots appeared in her vision as her head split open in pain. Loki sucked in a breath as he gazed at her. The light was nearly blinding, but he could still see that her eyes and veins were blazing gold like the timelines.

“Loki, I think I need to—”

“You don’t, you don’t,” said Loki. He didn’t want to hear something that meant goodbye, not after everything they’d been through.

“I love you.” (Y/N) pulled him close and kissed him.

Loki’s eyes widened before closing, and he passionately kissed her back.

And then the light rolled over them, and everything ceased to exist.

Taglist:

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