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buckysgrace · 6 months ago

Note

Hi. You’re amazing!

Do you ever write fluff? Like if you found out you were pregnant with Billy’s baby and at first he’s upset and doesn’t want anything to do with you but after you have the baby ( a little boy with blonde curls like Billy) he gets all emotional and wants to desperately be a better father than his dad was to him 😭

Hello! Thank you so much <3 I absolutely will write fluff!

CW: Mentions of abortion, mentions of child abuse, lots of Billy being scared and a lil mean.

Billy's son is also referenced as having blonde curls and his nose, but the rest is ambiguous!

He was scared.

Billy honestly didn't know what he was going to do. There had been many arguments with you about it, but you seemed fairly determined. You were going to have this baby, whether he wanted to be a part of the baby's life or not.

It wasn't necessarily that he didn't want to be involved, but he could feel a crushing fear spreading through him every time he thought about being a dad.

His relationship with his own dad was strained. Things weren’t the best between them. He never really had a positive father figure, someone that showed him how to stay calm even when he was frustrated. The last thing he wanted was to end up snapping at his own child.

He couldn’t be a dad.

“Not mine,” He said once you showed up with the ultrasound, the bloodwork and everything. Denial was all he could think about, all he could process. He couldn’t fuck up your life and this child’s life if he wasn’t involved. It was that simple, “I didn’t knock you up.”

“Uh huh,” Was your dry answer, your eyes looking less than amused, “Do you want a paternity test then, William?” Came your snarky response, because you both knew the truth. This baby was his, there was no doubt in Billy’s mind about that. And it terrified him.

“Don’t call me that.” He said as he pushed his hair off of his forehead, feeling sick as it continued to wash over him. He was going to be a dad. He was going to end up just like Neil.

“Then don’t act like you weren’t a part of this.” You said, looking just as fearful as what he felt. He sat down on the edge of his bed, tapping his foot rapidly as he thought about how good a smoke sounded right now. He’d need a lot more to make him relax.

“It’s still early, right?” He questioned at last, turning his attention back to you. He watched the way your eyebrows furrowed tightly together and then relaxed again. Your eyes softened, telling him what he already knew.

“I’m not getting an abortion,” You said at last, “I’ve made up my mind. You can make your decision, but I’m not letting you walk in and out of our lives whenever you see fit. You can be a part of this baby's life or we can end this. Whatever you prefer.” You were gentle with him, setting out the options softly like you always did. You understood him better than anyone else, made him feel safe. It made him sick to think about how he was hurting the one person he really cared about.

“Can I think about it?” He asked at last, feeling like there wasn’t anything else to do. He didn’t have an answer yet and he didn’t want to end up saying the wrong thing. He was growing angry at himself. He could only imagine what Neil would say once he found out.

“Yeah,” You replied gently, eyes softening as you nodded your head, “But I can’t wait forever. I need to know your answer soon.” Your voice slightly wavered but he looked away, not wanting to see you so upset.

“Yeah,” He responded as he nodded his head and placed his fingers tightly together, “I’ll let you know.” He said at last, staying put until you left. Everything was falling apart, breaking down around him. He couldn’t deal with it right now.

Ignoring you was harder than he’d thought it would be. He looked for you everywhere he went, even though he knew he couldn’t have you. That was his own fault regardless. He’d made up his mind. It would be easier this way.

Yet, when the invitation for your baby shower arrived in his mail he felt his walls caving in. They crashed into him, making him break down as he stared at your handwritten notes on the card. He could tell just by reading it that you were excited, not afraid. He wished he could be more like you.

In the end, he decided to go. He needed closure, as he was sure you needed to. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to stand living in the same town as you, knowing that his child would never know him. Somehow, that made him feel even worse.

He felt lonely as the months drew on. He had no one to confide in for his problems; especially Neil and Susan. He didn’t know what to say when they questioned about your disappearance and he felt even more at a loss when they asked him if you were pregnant. A shrug of his shoulders was his answer. He really didn’t know.

The walk up towards the little gymnasium felt odd, like he didn’t quite belong as he stared at the little balloons and elephant decorations that were spotted throughout the room. There were familiar faces; your friends and family. Some other people that weren’t quite as well known. He still felt awkward, like everyone knew that he was the one who had knocked you up and ran.

“Hey,” You drew out as you approached him, your palm flat against the bump in front of you, “I didn’t think you’d be here.” You said slowly, literally glowing as you stood in front of him. You had a sundress on, your cheeks were warm and forehead a little sweaty. He wondered if it was from the baby.

“I didn’t think I’d come either.” He admitted at last, hating how horrible that sounded. He just felt like he was in a rut, buried deep inside of a hole with no real way of coming out. You were like sunshine through the dirt, warming his skin as he watched you.

“What does this mean?” You asked him at last, tilting your head as your eyes softened over his features. He wished that he had a real answer for you, to tell you how he felt. He was in love with you; deeply. He just didn’t want to hurt you either. It was complicated.

“I really don’t know yet,” He mumbled, “It just felt right.” He decided on, unable to tell you just how much he missed you. He was nearly desperate enough to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness. He would if you pushed him hard enough.

“Billy,” You drew out in exasperation, “I can’t have you doing this, being so wishy-washy. What do you want?” You asked him seriously, looking like you were close to cracking too. He wanted to reach out and touch you, to hold you. He needed to apologize.

“I just want to be better,” He replied slowly, “I want to be here. For you and for-,” He stalled for a moment as he looked down at your baby bump, feeling like he was at a loss once again. He wasn’t sure if you wanted him in his life or not.

“Him,” You said quickly, “We’re having a little boy.” Your eyes were glazed over in tears, your lips pulling into the tightest smile. You were clearly emotional, making him feel awful as he reached his hand forward. Your fingers met slowly, molding against one another. He felt sparks traveling up his arms, leaving him resentful of the past few months he’d wasted.

“That’s-, that’s good,” He answered after he cleared his throat. He was already scared to be a dad, but to have a son? He feared that even more. He was sure he was following directly into Neil’s shows, “Have you decided on a name?”

“I kind of like Cash,” You stated as you rubbed at your belly, “Just feels right. C’mon, you can open the presents with me.” You explained as you tugged him along, leaving him a little jittery. He thought about pulling out a cigarette, but figured it wasn’t the right place to do it.

He felt a little lost but slowly grew more and more keen on what was happening. It was still a lot to process, but it felt right being there by your side. You were clearly excited despite everything that had happened. He was grateful that you were so open, that you didn’t hold a grudge against him.

“Where are you living at?” He asked instead, curious as to whether your living situation had changed or not. You were still living at home the last time he checked. He was slightly nervous, wondering if someone else had slipped into his spot.

“Still with my parents,” You admitted as you shrugged your shoulders, “They were upset, but they’ve come around.” Your lips were pulled into a smile, looking less than worried. Apparently things had been fairly well for you.

“They probably hate me.” He said a moment later, sure that it was true. He couldn’t see how they wouldn’t. He had practically left you. You snapped your eyes up towards him.

“Hate is a strong word,” You told him quickly, “But yeah, they’re not the happiest. Especially dad.” You explained slowly as you continued to rub at your baby bump.

“Great,” He mumbled as he placed his hands in his pockets, “I’m really sorry.” He breathed out slowly, knowing his apology was more important than everything else. He meant it too. He shouldn’t have pushed you away.

“You just disappeared,” You started slowly, “I thought you were gone.” Your voice was soft, full of hurt and distress. He felt his throat tightening, burning as he thought about how much he missed you. He was a fool to ever stray away from you, to leave you on your own.

“I thought about it,” He told you honestly, knowing there was no point in lying, “I don’t want to be like my dad.” He replied at last, getting down to the root of the issue. He didn’t want to accidentally lash out at you or at your future child. He never wanted that for him. It would be better to be alone.

“You won’t,” You told him quickly, sternly as he exhaled deeply, “You’re not like your dad. I promise you.” You cupped his face softly, your hands smooth and gentle against his skin. He leaned against you, craving the feeling.

“What if I lose control?” He asked at last as he drew his eyes over your features, taking in the way you were watching him. You sighed deeply as you rubbed your fingers across his skin. You looked deep in thought as you pressed your nails gently against his stubble.

“You never did that at your swimming classes,” You reminded him, “You should come stay with me. Move in. It would be good for our baby.” You moved your hands to his neck, then to his shoulder and down to his hands. You gripped them slowly, pressing them against your growing tummy.

He stalled for the longest time, blinking slowly as he felt like the world was freezing around him. Underneath your skin he could feel your baby moving. He gulped, eyes wide as he felt the smallest smile curling against his lips. He exhaled deeply as he looked towards you again.

“I don’t know.” He replied nervously as he felt his heart hammering roughly inside of his chest. He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking that it would be easier. He’d be closer for you, for the baby. If he was really going to do this, he needed to be near you.

“You don’t have to marry me or anything,” You started, “Or be with me if that’s what you want.” You said sheepishly, looking embarrassed as you quickly looked away. He felt his heart shatter a bit again, worried that he had truly hurt you.

“You have someone else?” He asked at last, worried that you had moved on. He had done wrong, but he really did love you. You were the only one he was passionate about. He wasn’t sure how to move on if you had found someone else.

“No,” You responded with a smile, “But I just want you to be happy. Even if it’s not with us.” You nodded your head, but looked like that was hard to admit. He didn’t want you to be alone. Not anymore.

“You make me happy,” He said at last, “We’ll work this out. I promise.” He said as he brought your hand up to his lips, savoring the feeling of your skin against his mouth. He closed his eyes, feeling very regretful. He wouldn’t lose you again.

When he returned home he felt odd, but not like he had in the past few months. He didn’t drink away his feelings, or drown his anger out with music. Instead, he worked on packing. He wasn’t going to be like Neil; not at all. He was going to be there for you. He was going to be there for his son. No matter how scared he was. He couldn’t let either of you down.

“Where are you going?” Neil’s voice made him jump, surprising him as he paused with the article of clothing in his hands. He turned slowly, looking at the way Neil was leaning against the door frame. He had his hands crossed tightly over his chest, his eyebrows furrowed together tightly. His features were stoic, like he was deciding whether he should be angry or not.

“I’m moving out,” He said as he turned away, shoving the clothes back into his bag, “I uh, found a place.” Billy replied slowly as he finished zipping up his bag. He wondered how much he’d really be able to take with him. Probably not much if his dad got angry.

“You moving in with that bitch?” Neil tilted his head up as he spoke, like he was trying to make himself taller. His eyes were sharp, cold as his gaze cut into Billy. He felt sick as he gulped harshly, trying to keep his tone at bay.

“Don’t call her that.” Billy responded hotly, feeling defensive of you. You weren’t anything like that and you were letting him back into your life; just like that. You were everything and more to him and he wasn’t going to let Neil speak ill of you.

“Is the kid yours or some little bastard?” His lip curled up in disgust as he spoke, his features filling with disappointment. Billy didn’t care. He was going to be happy with you. He wouldn’t be like Neil. Not ever.

“Mine,” He said roughly, “And don’t you ever call him that.” He snatched up his bag, taking his few items with him as he moved forward. Neil scoffed as he shook his head, irritated as Billy pushed forward.

“She’s going to ruin your life,” He grumbled as he gripped Billy’s shoulder, holding him in place for a moment, “And don’t even think about crawling back. I won’t have you.” He said threateningly, like he might change Billy’s mind.

“I won’t come back.” Billy promised, stern with his answer as he walked past him. He wouldn’t let his son suffer the same way he had. They both deserved better than this.

The rest of the months passed breezily, making him come to terms a little easier as your due date approached. He had done a lot of ass kissing, pleading and groveling until he got back on your good side. He brought you flowers every day, rubbed your feet after work and gave you plenty of kisses.

You complained about how you looked as the final weeks approached, but he thought that you looked beautiful. Stunning. In his opinion, you were glowing. He loved rubbing your tummy too, feeling like he got a deeper connection that way.

Your labor was messy, a little chaotic. Billy was terrified something would go wrong, but stayed close to you regardless. By the end of it, his hand was numb and his wrist aching from how tightly he’d been gripping you.

“Look at him,” You breathed out as you held the little boy in your arms, “He’s so cute.” You sniffled, looking like you were seconds away from breaking down again.

He stared and stared, memorizing his son's features as he came to terms that he was a father. He had a little boy, someone to take care of. He looked so fragile, so tiny. It made him nervous. He was fearful that he’d accidentally hurt him by holding him wrong, or by dropping him. He wasn’t sure how his rough hands were supposed to hold something so soft.

"Billy," You breathed out quietly, making his throat grow raw as he stared down at the little boy. Soft blonde curls and the same sloped nose he had. Everything else about the little boy reminded him of you, "Are you crying?" You asked gently, making him feel even more emotional as he shook his head.

“No,” He said hoarsely, doing everything in his power to keep from breaking down, “S’just a lot.” He mumbled as he wiped at his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose as he tried to calm himself down. His hands were shaking, his heart thumping roughly inside of his chest.

“I know,” You replied softly as you sat up a bit, gesturing the bundle in your arms towards him, “C’mon. You’ll feel better.” You reassured him, but he still felt hesitant. He pressed his fingertips together before he nodded, accepting the little baby from you.

Names hadn’t quite been figured out yet, but that didn’t matter at the moment. He looked healthy, his cheeks full and fists clenched together as he stretched his arms out. Billy felt a small chuckle leave his neck, fighting over the sob that was threatening to burst free.

He suddenly couldn’t remember why he had been so nervous, or scared. As his son curled against his arms it felt natural, like he already knew what he was doing. He savored the warmth, the way the little baby cooed as he adjusted him in his arms. Everything felt right suddenly.

“I won’t let anything bad ever happen to you,” He promised as he kissed his little head, sighing deeply as he snuggled his little son towards him, “Not ever. I promise.”

#Billy Hargrove #Billy Hargrove fic #Billy Hargrove x reader #Billy Hargrove x yn #Billy Hargrove x you #Billy Hargrove is a good dad #Dad!Billy Hargrove #Billy Hargrove request #Billy Hargrove angst #Billy Hargrove fluff

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heartpascal · 2 years ago

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the crooked kind

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: you were sarah’s best friend, and you reunite with joel years after outbreak day.

▹ — a/n: erm. i love him. again not my best writing but i love this concept sm. also yes now i know there is an audience for father figure joel u will be getting so much of him

▹ — warnings: reader had major family troubles, pre-outbreak & post-outbreak, father figure joel, reader is injured, stab wound, referenced raiders/hunters, bill being hostile as usual, frank being a sweetie

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

25th September, 2003.

After a long shower at the Miller’s house, you got changed and went downstairs to face them, the same anxiety you always felt when this happened arose in your chest. They were in the kitchen waiting for you, matching frowns on both Sarah and her dad’s face. You smiled tightly at them, grabbing the box of food Sarah held out for you.

“Guys, it’s fine! I can’t stay here forever.” You told them lightly, trying to lift the heavy mood that always fell over the three of you when you had to go back to your own house.

“You could! Couldn’t she, dad?” Sarah asked, turning to her dad and knowing the answer before he even said it.

“‘Course you could, kid. You know you’re a part of the family.” Joel supplied, making it even harder to maintain the certain and confident front you always put on when it was time to leave.

You heard the tires of the truck pulling up outside their house, and the truck door slamming shut as Tommy stepped out, his frown matching Sarah and Joel’s, too. He grabbed the box of food from your hand and put it in the bag on your back, clapping a gentle hand on your shoulder and squeezing as you smiled at him.

“Time to go,” you said, and rolled your eyes with a watery smile as you looked at the sulking expression Sarah wore, “C’mon, Sar. I’ll see you at school tomorrow!”

Nobody responded to your words, and their silence clearly conveyed their thoughts, but what about tonight? You were all aware of how much your family disliked when you stayed at the Miller’s but sometimes, you’d rather face their anger when you returned than any extra time at your own house. Aside from the people who lived there, you also never knew if there would be any water, which is why you always took a shower before leaving the Miller’s. You’d likely be back by this time next week, but it never made leaving easier.

You had once tried to stay at your best friend’s for longer, going on a few weeks, but when you had returned to your house to grab some more clothes, your parents had kicked off. Shouting, screaming, throwing things, the likes. They had yelled in your face that they would call the police on Joel, say he had kidnapped you, was keeping you away from home.

The last thing you wanted was the man who was essentially your own dad going to jail because of you.

It’s better this way, you had decided, because there was no other way. You were lucky your parents let you out of the house at all at this point. Every time you took a bundle of clothes stuffed into the bottom of your school bag you were chancing your luck, but you just couldn’t help it. Staying at Sarah’s gave you the experience of a loving family that you so badly wanted. A warm house, cooked food, and working water didn’t hurt, either.

“Let’s go, kid.” Tommy said, giving you a tight lipped smile. He didn’t want you to go back, either, but neither Miller men were willing to let you walk there. Tommy took you home every time, all of you knowing that Joel was much more likely to snap if your parents showed their faces.

“See you guys later! Happy birthday for tomorrow, Joel!” You waved at Sarah and Joel as you headed out of the front door, throwing a wave behind you and hearing them call out their own goodbyes.

You and Tommy sat in silence for the first few minutes of the drive, before he glanced in your direction, saying, “Listen, if you need anything, give us a call. I’m gonna be out tomorrow but Joel will be about. But hey, you need a bit of extra muscle? I’ll be there.”

You smiled at him, thankful to have such a supportive family who had your back at every turn.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Joel sighed as he gripped the steering wheel in his hand, waiting for his brother to finish up the paperwork he had to sign. When Tommy finally approached the truck, Joel turned to him with a dark look, annoyance clear in the curve of his eyebrows.

“Listen, Joel, I’m sorry!” Tommy told him immediately, reluctantly pulling his seatbelt over his chest and holding his hands up as if he was surrendering. “That fucker said her name and I just snapped, man.”

Tommy must have seen the way Joel’s face dropped, because he felt anxiety warm up in his chest as Joel said your name, his expression telling them both that something was very wrong. He remembered the crease to Sarah’s eyebrows when he had finally gotten home, the way she’d told him that you hadn’t been in school, and she felt like something was off.

“She wasn’t at school today.” said Joel, his eyes almost unfocused as all the possibilities for the why flashed in his mind, he completely missed the way Tommy’s jaw set.

The sound of guns going off in the police station sent both of their heads whirling around in alarm, with Tommy reaching back for the box that was kept under the driver’s seat. “What the…” he mumbled, eyes flashing with the fire that had started across the road. It was when they started hearing the helicopters and dozens of military and coppers swarming the street that the two Miller’s realised something was very wrong. “Shit, Sarah!”

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

23rd May, 2013.

Your arm was throbbing with pain, and you were sure something was fractured at the least. Not to mention the warm red blood that was dripping down from your shoulder, basically the only thing providing you with any heat in the all-encompassing cold. Or maybe all the blood leaving you was what was making you feel so cold. You weren’t sure.

It was the first time in a while that you had left your QZ, and you were ambitious, aiming to travel all the way to the Boston QZ with as little trouble as you could manage. Of course, you hadn’t counted on the people, the raiders and hunters who tried to kill you to steal all the supplies you didn’t have. You were lucky to make it out alive, really. You hadn’t felt very lucky for a long time.

It had been at least thirteen hours since you were attacked, and you knew you wouldn’t make it much further. Already, you were feeling lightheaded, woozy, like the ground was reaching up for you, but you powered on, seeing the glint of a metal fence up ahead.

The wiring at the top told you that it was electric, which you wouldn’t have been worried about if the buzzing didn’t echo in your ears, meaning it actually had electricity.

You pushed lightly against where there was a gate, a keypad there to unlock it. These days, you wouldn’t be able to bet on it being a simple 1, 2, 3, 4. Clearly, this was somebody’s home, and they didn’t take lightly to intruders. Your head dropped against the metal, the metal warm from the sun, and you were glad that only the barbed wire at the top was electric.

Your luck clearly hadn't lasted very long, as you heard the sounds of two guns clicking, the safety turning off.

“Who are you?” A man’s gruff voice asked, and you moved your head from the fence to look at the man stood at the front, “What do you want?” His striking blue eyes tore through you, looking for any sign of a threat, but you didn’t pose much of one in your current state.

“Jesus, Bill, let the girl in, she’s gonna die out there!” A friendlier voice called out, approaching the two men already stood in front of you.

“Or, she could kill us in here.” Bill said, eyes not moving from where you stood, narrowing as you put your hands up in a motion of surrendering.

Your eyes fluttered for a second, and you nodded at the man, understanding of his caution. “I—I’m just looking to get to the QZ. Boston.” You spoke, voice dry and cracking, having only been used when you had yelled out at the people who had attacked you, and that was hours ago. You were dehydrated, tired, and hurt. “Could you point me in the direction?”

“She’s not gonna make it that far.” A woman, who you hadn't noticed approaching, said, eyebrows raised as she looked from the other newcomer to Bill. A part of you knew she was right, knew that you probably wouldn’t make it another fifty steps of the way, but god, you’d come this far, and you really didn’t want to die.

“Bill.” The man prompted, eyebrows raised as he gestured toward the gate. “Just let her in, you can always… shoot her if she tries anything.”

“And I will.” Bill threatened, glaring at you even as you nodded in agreement.

“I’m not infected,” You supplied, because it was the best you could do, “Got a nasty stab wound, little while ago.”

Bill grumbled, sending the man who was trying to help you back into the town for something, and he continued his annoyed mumbling even as he opened the gate, tapping in a code and holding his gun up to your head as you took a step forward. You stilled, eyes following him as he approached, gun still raised, and held a tester to your neck, only huffing as it flashed green.

“Come on in, honey.” The kind man said, approaching your side and helping you stumble your way into their safe haven. You swayed, even with his help, and he frowned at you.

“You sure about this, Bill?” asked the other man, who hadnt spoken before now. You hadn’t really taken much notice of him, too focused on the people speaking to you in hopes that the world might show you a bit of kindness.

“Joel?” You croaked out, eyes going wide and your legs becoming numb as you stared at the man in shock. The guns immediately rose back up to your face, and they glared at you suspiciously, with the man who had been helping you stepping aside with one look from Bill, even if it was with some reluctance. “Joel— It’s you, I can’t believe it’s really you.”

They all stared at you, none of them daring to speak for a few moments. The woman stared at Joel, trying to communicate with him through eye contact alone.

“She—she fixed it. Didn’t she?” You said numbly, feeling like you were going to pass out, but unable to take your eyes off of the cracked watch that sat on his wrist. Sarah had told you her plan for his birthday, even if you’d never gotten to see it in action, but it was broken again.

Recognition seemed to seep into Joel’s eyes, and his gun lowered slightly. He said your name like a question, like your face was an answer he couldn’t work out.

In a single moment, his gun was dropped to his side, and he surged forward, pulling you into his arms. You held onto him just as tightly, or as tightly as you could manage with your fucked up arm, and blinked away tears as you squeezed your hands together behind his back.

His hand held the back of your head, keeping you close to him as he let out a breath. “Fuck.” He said, the words watery with tears you were sure he refused to let out. “I was sure you were dead. The houses on your street were on fire, I—…” He trailed off, pulling away to hold your face in his rough hands.

You forgot all your pain for a moment, eyes full of tears from something else, something like relief, “I got away, my—my dad was arrested and my mom went to get him. When I got to yours, you were all gone.”

He swallowed guiltily, eyes looking over your grown face. You looked so different, so… you looked like an adult.

You looked around at the town, wondering which one belonged to the Miller’s, “Where— where’s Sarah?”

Joel flinched, hands squeezing your cheeks once more, before he shook his head, looking away before he pulled you back to him once again.

“Oh.” You gulped, swallowing down the grief you had already felt for the Miller’s that rose back up, trying to sweep you away.

“Can somebody explain what the fuck is going on?” The woman asked, the first of Joel’s group to speak up since your unexpected reunion. She looked between you and Joel and the two men, as if one of you could answer all of her questions.

You looked up at Joel, and he felt like he was going to be sick, the memories of you doing that before the world had gone to shit hitting him like a brick to the face. He remembered the way you would smile at him, a grin that matched Sarah’s, like the two of you were born as sisters, and not just chosen sisters.

“I…” You began, stepping out of Joel’s arms to face the group and explain, but that wave of nausea hit you, the adrenaline from finding Joel seeping from your body, leaving you feeling like you were about to step into death’s doorway. “Okay, um, let me—”

Joel stepped forward, and you fell into him, with him picking you up like he used to do with you and Sarah before. It hit him then, with how you were heavier, and how he hadn’t done this for anyone in years, but he still managed.

“I—I’ll explain, after.” He said, the words echoing in your ears as your eyes fluttered, the last of your long-winded fight or flight leaving you as you rested in your dad’s arms, feeling like perhaps you’d wake up in the bed beside Sarah’s, and everything that had happened in the past decade would have been nothing but a dream. “Frank?” He prompted, letting the man lead him to wherever he thought would be best suitable to patch you up.

That sickening feeling crept up on Joel again, the situation being horribly reminiscent of outbreak day, almost like your weight was Sarah’s own, and his shaking fingers being from fear and not shock. He hated it, that the feeling of regaining a daughter was so similar to the loss of his other.

He felt a hand on his shoulder as he followed Frank, and glanced to his side to see Tess, and allowed himself to feel the slightest comfort at the nod she gave him.

Your eyes blinked open, and you looked at him through bleary eyes, “I’ve missed you, dad.” You told him, not missing the heartache in his eyes as he looked at you, but he smiled. It was thin, watery, and barely there, but you saw it.

“Kid, you got no idea.” He sighed out, focusing on getting you fixed up before he could start crying.

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uraniumbones · 3 months ago

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For those of you keeping up with the book of Bill and it's accompanying website and the bill cypher backstory. THE PARALLELS GOT ME FUCKED UP.

Spoilers incoming.

people love to talk about the dynamic between Stanford and Bill. Sure, interesting. But you know what people aren't talking about? Stanley and Bill. Specifically referencing the website (thisisnotawebsotedotcom.com)

If you input Stanley a bunch it will eventually open a new document instead of eBay pages. The page mocks Stanley and reveals his secrets or whatever. One of the clickable options on this page is "HOW HE BEAT ME". Each time you click into this is an increasingly deranged meltdown about how it shouldn't have been possible. Calling him a "cheap trick loving, past-denying overgrown child protected from failure only by a force field of denial and shamelessness" among other things. And when further pressed accuses you of acting like "those PREACHY INFANTILIZING AUTOMOTONS AT THE THERAPRISM who are SO OBSESSED with getting me to TALK about my "FEELINGS"." After that he spirals further eventually talking about "how much pain I'm in" and only in code admitting "I can still see through the eyes of everyone I've ever..." presumably killed.

If you don't know shit about Euclydia read the wiki page on it, it's not long. tldr Euclydia is bills home dimension, which he destroyed and killed every single inhabitant of in blood and fire. He did so (accidentally?) in an attempt to show them the third dimension which (because of a genetic mutation) only he had the ability to see (with his eye). Please also note when Stanford asks about his home dimension Bill says it was"destroyed by a monster".

In the website's many documents it repeatedly makes reference to Bill's parents and how much they loved him, his home, his childhood (he wore velcro sneakers it's actually incredibly cute), the ways in which he was different and not easily accepted.

Now knowing all these things. A pattern may emerge to you. Are you seeing it? Are you seeing the patterns yet?

Obviously Bill hates Stanley because he's stupid and still he somehow beat Bill. That's annoying, maddening even. But I believe it goes beyond that. He hates him all the more passionately because Stanley reminds him of himself. The poem at the end of the Stanley password on the website summarizes it best "always dragged his family down / One mistake, disowned, denied, / only thing to do was hide." Destruction of his own family, running and hiding from his own mistakes. "Reinvent, retry, reload" trying again in a new life. "When your actions make it worse, / When they see you as a curse," Making things worse where you have tried to make them better. "Give the wheel one last spin, / Take your chips and go all in" this is what weirdmagedon was for both of them. and this is where their lives differ "And lucky stan- the rolls on black, / he got his life and family back. / His big break it finally came, / Redemption from a life of shame." AND THERE IT IS. Stanley got his family back. Bill didn't. (Which is what it seems he was attempting). Stanley got his redemption. Bill didn't.

Stanley was a lonely kid fuck up just like Bill was. And he absolutely hates Stanley's guts for it because he hates his own guts for it. And all this time they're the same, just trying to fix those mistakes, to have their family back again, to be loved again. They both have this facade of untouchable aloof levity, the same insults Bill hurls at Stanley may as well be hurled at himself. "Protected from his failure only by a force field of denial and shamelessness"? "Cheap trick loving, past denying overgrown child"? You can see Bill goes from being outraged and insulting Stanley, to denying a deeper meaning to those feelings (and calling you a therapist), to talking about how much pain he is in (seemingly over all the people he killed in Euclydia), all without any specific prompting. Just pushing. Bill is the one that connected those things. Bill hates Stanley (at least partially) as an act of self hatred. Because he has made the same mistakes and can never forgive himself for them. AND (at least partially) because Stanley is not only just like him, but now just like him if he had succeeded. Stanley got his "Redemption from a life of shame". and in so doing actively prevented Bills.

Now do you see what I'm saying about THE PARALLELS?!

#feeling insane #did this track?#maybe I'm just projecting the classic experience of hating someone like you because you hate yourself #but i feel like the signs are there #I'm not crazy #I'M NOT CRAZY #book of bill #gravity falls #thisisnotawebsitedotcom #euclydia #bill cypher #stanley pines #the parallels #the themes #self loathing

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bad268 · 3 months ago

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Same to You

Aftermath Affair Pt. 5/Finale

(Oscar Pisatri X Reader + Ex! Lando Norris X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Nope, happy 5 years! (So this was supposed to come out on Saturday last week but I fucked up the schedule lol)

Warnings: VERY heavy use of language and violence (reader gets trapped between Lando and a wall and reader shoves Lando against the wall), cheating, Song referenced: Same to You by The Vamps

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1576

Chapter Summary: First race of the season, first race after the breakup, and first race hard launching. What could go wrong? Oh right! A teammate!

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<-Part 4

~~(^Both from Pinterest)

Six months. Six amazing months later, and you were ready to go back on the track. Oscar was also so different compared to Lando and how he wanted you at the track. Lando wanted you there to keep up appearances. You had to dress the part, and despite how uncomfortable you were, it was the only way Lando would agree to have you in his garage.

Nope, not Oscar. He wants you to have fun, do whatever you want, and take you anywhere you want in the paddock. When you first got together, he asked you almost every week if you were interested in attending a race. He always said he could get you a pass, just give him the word and he’d do anything for you.

This time was the Australian Grand Prix. Season opener, one of your favorite tracks, and Oscar’s home race no less. You wanted to be there for this. You let him know plenty of time in advance, and Oscar may or may not have already gotten you a pass, hoping you would agree to go to his home race.

Now, being on the track, you never wanted to leave again. Whether it was the atmosphere or vibe of Australia or not, you were feeling the buzz around the paddock. You wanted to always be a part of it. You were thriving in it!

Given that it was Thursday, you had walked in with Oscar’s hand tightly grasped in yours, but he had to go for the media, panels, and interviews. He said you were free to go practically anywhere, and he showed you around the McLaren Hospitality and his driver’s room before his PR manager came calling for him. He said he would have his phone on him the whole time just in case you needed him or got lost.

You found a little corner table on the second floor of the hospitality building that faced a large window, overlooking the pitlane. You grabbed a small plate of food and your favorite drink as you sat comfortably in the corner and opened a book. You should have known the peace would not have lasted long.

“Hey, what’s up?” A voice broke your concentration. Looking up, and of course, it was Lando.

“Hi Lando,” You greeted with a tight-lipped smile. “Nothing much, how about you?”

“Same,” Lando replied quickly, pulling out the second seat from the table to take it. “I heard you moved on. How’s that?”

“It’s going great,” You smiled a little more laid back, thinking about Oscar. You put a bookmark in your book as you set it down, thinking this could be a kindhearted conversation. “He’s amazing.”

“I think you’re lying,” Lando smirked as he leaned forward on the table, his face just inches away from yours. You looked at him confused, which had him chuckling ominously. “I have to smile really. You packed up your things and drove for miles, but you really couldn’t get that far away from me.”

“What the hell are you saying?” You scoffed in disbelief as you leaned back as far as humanly possible from him. “Are you trying to say that I’m with Oscar to be closer to you?”

“All I’m saying is, would someone who hated my guts willingly be with someone so closely related to me?” Lando teased as he chuckled more. He leaned back and laughed a little louder, garnering a few stares. “Be honest, you miss me already. Does he love like I do? Touch like I do? Does he hold you like me? Make you feel free?”

“You can shut up, Lando,” You seethe, moving to gather all of your things in haste.

“You’re hurrying because I’m right,” Lando gloated as he stood up as well and moved to follow you when you grabbed your things to make a run toward Oscar’s driver’s room. Unfortunately, Lando decided to put his body between you, and the only door you knew would take you to Oscar’s room. “Open your eyes and you will see that everything you do with Oscar, you wish it was with me.”

“You’re lying to make yourself feel better,” You pressed as you tried to go around him. He just blocked your body and turned to cage you between him and the wall. “Lando, let me go.”

“Babe, does it feel the same to you?” Lando whispered as he leaned in and breathed against your ear. You had to bite back the gag as he leaned his head down to your shoulder as his breath fanned over your neck. “Tell me, does this feel the same to you?”

“No, it feels better,” You hinted, knowing you meant one thing, and Lando took it another. You felt him chuckle against your skin as he dropped a hand from the wall to rest on your waist and you knew that was your chance.

You grabbed his wrist, spun his arm around, and pushed him against the wall, locking him in place. You pushed his head against the wall to keep him in his place as you ranted.

“Lando Norris, did you ever think I would stoop that low to get back with you? I’m not the one who fucked up here!” You raised your voice a bit which gained attention from some of the McLaren staff. One of which you recognized as Oscar’s PR manager, who took off, probably to find Oscar. “You were the one who cheated on me. You were the one that ruined a 7-year long relationship because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants. And to make it worse, you introduced her to other drivers as your girlfriend as if I never existed!”

“Ok listen to me-” He tried to cut you off.

“No!” You shouted, “I’m done listening to you! Oscar is the most caring, attentive, and supportive person I know. You have nothing on him. He is everything to me, and you are nothing. Do you understand me, Lando?”

“That’s a bit harsh,” Lando mumbled in a mocking way and that just pissed you off even more.

“Oh, almost like forcing your teammate to endure all the sounds that come with cheating?” You mocked back with a large smile. “Yeah, you wanna talk about harsh, take a look in the fucking mirror. You have always said shit to me about anything and everything I did. Oscar encourages me to be myself. Here, I’ll give you this, I’m sorry that when we first got together, I didn’t have a backbone. I can say it now. You hate the way that I walk? Shit outta luck. You hate the way that I talk? Get over it. You hate the way I dress? Fuck off! The world doesn’t revolve around you! I don’t revolve around you! It’s not my fault you cheated on me with a sponsor no less, and it’s not my fault that you can’t accept it. Go bury your sorrows in Ava Small’s pussy for all I care.”

With that, you gave him one last shove and turned around, taking a deep breath before facing the crowd. Most of the McLaren crew were smiling at you and giving you reassuring nods, but one in particular captured your attention. Oscar Piastri, your knight in shining armor, stood a little closer than the rest of the group as if he were ready to jump in for your defense at any given second. His face was in awe as you slowly walked up to him, holding out your hand. That seemed to snap him out of his thoughts as he shook his head a bit and grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to you. At this moment, Lando Norris was the furthest thing from your mind as you gazed at Oscar. He pecked your lips lightly before leaning his forehead against yours.

“That was hot,” Oscar whispered as he peppered kisses around your face while you giggled and gently pushed him away. He finally stopped, wrapped his arms around you and left one last kiss on your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Your therapy’s been working.”

“It’s not just therapy,” You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “It’s you. I wouldn’t have any of the confidence to stand up to him without you.”

“Don’t discredit yourself,” He played off, “You’ve come a long way in a year.”

“And a lot of that is thanks to you,” You pressed as you poked Oscar’s cheek before leaving your hand resting on his cheek. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

“I have an idea,” Oscar whispered as he pulled away slightly. You looked to the side to see all of the McLaren crew pull out their phones, and when you looked back over to Oscar, he wasn’t where you left him. No, he was kneeling before you, holding out an unopened ring box. “I’ve been thinking-”

“If this is a proposal, yes,” You replied excitedly, not needing to hear anything or see the ring. If Oscar had a whole speech planned (which he did!), he could share it in private since you two would more likely prefer to keep that moment between you two.

“I really worried for nothing," Oscar joked as he opened the box and gently slipped the ring on your left ring finger. It was a perfect fit. Just like you and Oscar.

Tags- @barcelonaloverf1life

~~~~~

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skamenglishsubs · 7 months ago

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Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 6

Out here in the real world it's been a week since the cliffhanger ending of episode 5 where Simon broke up with Wilhelm, but in-universe it's just the next day, and Wilhelm is being comforted by Felice.

Subtext: This entire episode is incredibly meta, there are so many times characters say things that reference earlier seasons or episodes, or the entire series as a whole. This is the first time, and Felice is saying what we're all thinking. IS IT REALLY OVER?!? 😱

Blink and you miss it: Felice gives Wilhelm her sunglasses and dries his tears so he can hide the fact that he's been crying. Also, look at that gorgeous Swedish summer. It is so pretty.

Culture: The third-years are painting the banners that go on the trucks on graduation day.

Culture: They're also signing each others' student hats, which is a common tradition. You can just sign your name or write something funny or do whatever.

Culture: This car is what we in Sweden call a sossecontainer. It's an old 90's Volvo, it's square, it's ugly, and it was pretty cheap and reliable, so it was very common and popular among working class and the lower middle classes. It was never a high-status car, so it perfectly illustrates the Eriksson family.

Subtext: Oh look, another throwback to season 1 when Sara argued with Simon about their dad, and said that he should stop giving people second chances.

Culture: Oh look, another poem by Karin Boye. This time it's Eternity, a poem about cherishing your time with your loved one, and the text is about how good times feel like an endless summer, which is what it certainly looks like for the kids and their teacher in the lush landscape. But just like in the poem, their endless summer is about to end.

Culture: This is pretty much exactly the reason used when real-world Lundsberg was temporarily closed.

Culture: And Wilhelm isn't wrong, the shitty traditions are in the walls of the place, it's always been like that, and it's always been upheld by everyone involved with the school, parents, teachers, staff, and students.

Subtext: Since this is the last episode, let's prepare the viewers to say good bye to the show, and let's do it with a little montage of students crying and taking their stuff down and emptying their rooms.

Culture: This is a 100% factually true statement, Göteborg is the worst city in the world. Source: I'm a native Stockholmer, and you just have to trust me on this, ok? Look, it's just common sense, alright? Don't listen to people from Göteborg, they're just jealous they're not living in the glorious capital. Also, they talk funny. And they have no sense of humour! And everyone is named Glenn or something.

Culture: I don't think they're referencing an actual school here, and the current Norwegian royal children went to school in Norway, not Switzerland. But the current Danish crown prince went to some boarding school in Switzerland for a while, but then he went to the Danish elite boarding school Herlufsholm. However, it was rocked by a bullying scandal in 2022, so they had to pull him out of that one and deny all knowledge of the events. Feels familiar?

Culture: Solliden is the private summer palace of the real-world Swedish royal family located on Öland, an island off the south-east coast of Sweden. The show has consistently stayed away from every likeness with the real world, but I guess they couldn't be arsed making up a fictional summer palace for the YR royal family so they went with something familiar.

Subtext: Farima is talking about the problems of finding a new school for Wilhelm from an academic perspective, but he's just thinking about how this means he won't be close to Simon any longer.

Culture: Vincent and the boys are pouring one out for Hillerska. It's a way to toast a dead friend, or in this case, a place.

Blink and you miss it: August places a king chess piece on the table before telling his friends that he's Wilhelm's reserve and might be king someday.

Subtext: And he's still so blinded by the glamour of it, despite everything. Thankfully, his friends can bring him down a couple of pegs.

Blink and you miss it: While Wilhelm is returning Kris, the book from last season, the second book in the pile is a book by Kjell Westö, Den Svavelgula Himlen - Yellow Sulphur Sky. It's about a working class kid in Finland becoming friends with his upper-class neighbour family, and his struggle maintaining a relationship with the girl of the family because of their class differences. Slightly on the nose there, show.

Meta: Henry interrupting our boys at the worst possible time is just a running joke at this point. How many times has it happened now? Four times? Five? Read the fucking room, Henry!

Subtext: Last chance to have a party together, but also last chance to see Simon, "maybe ever". Oh no, we have to start preparing for a sad ending!

Culture: Red solo cups are not a thing anywhere outside the US really, but you can buy them as a gag gift in Sweden, because to us they're just a weird movie prop we've seen American movies. Every other party scene in the show has featured regular plastic cups.

Culture: Drinking with the teachers?!? Yeah, sure, why not, everyone is an adult.

Subtext: Emo outfit? ✅ Sitting on the floor? ✅ Full of self-pity? ✅ Exaggerating the catastrophic state of his world in the way only a 17yo disaster boy can do? ✅

Meta: Another throwback to how Wilhelm was referred to as the party prince back in season 1.

Blink and you miss it: Felice hides the wine bottle behind her back before Malin comes in. She knows, Felice. Malin knows everything.

Meta: Another throwback to when Wilhelm was eating the dirt at the very same football field that disaster emo boy Simon is now sitting at together with his friends, who are trying to convince him to go to the final party.

Subtext: This time, August isn't just sorry that he got caught, he is genuinely sorry for everything he did to Wilhelm. He in turn forgives August, and we're all getting closure for this plot point.

Meta: Hey, hey, hey guys, do you remember that scene in season 1 episode 1 when Sara helped hold Felice's hair while she was throwing up? We're doing a throwback here!

Meta: Hey, hey, hey guys, do you remember that scene in season 1 episode 3 when Felice told Sara that maybe you don't have to speak the truth all the time? Well, Sara still doesn't understand why you would lie, but this time she's right, Felice was right to tell the truth.

Blink and you miss it: Stella and Fredrika are making out at the party, Felice saw it, and is making a very funny face. This is also why Stella rudely rejects Rosh, because of course she's gonna choose Fredrika, Rosh was just a distraction to make her jealous.

Subtext: Vincent is talking about Nils, who just came out, but August just saw Sara, and that's the whoever he wants.

Subtext: But despite saying that he doesn't care about anyone else seeing them, he still ducked behind a stack of pallets for this conversation.

Meta: This is a brutal Fleabag reference.

Cinematography: This scene is overwhelmingly lit in that sickly greenish fluorescent hue, but there's golden light coming from somewhere, so Sara and August share one final kiss in that golden light. But there's not enough of it to go around, not enough for their love to last, so August is left standing there alone, and all the golden light is gone.

Cinematography: Wilhelm and Simon left the party sometime after midnight, this is supposed to be a very early morning summer sunrise, and our boys are just gonna be bathed in the golden light throughout the entire scene. Gods, it is pretty.

Meta: Hey, hey, remember that scene in season 1 when Simon was singing that song, and Wilhelm instantly fell for him?

Meta: Hey guys, remember that scene in season 1 when they were discussing welfare politics in class and Simon threw shade on Wilhelm? This is a throwback to that.

Cinematography: Just fucking look at this shit. What a nice view. The nature and the sunrise is pretty, too! Going naked into the water? Yeah, that's a rebirth metaphor as well. Lisa said so!

Subtext: This entire scene is basically Wilhelm trying one last time to get Simon back. They said they weren't gonna, but he's trying anyway. They're talking about that politics class where Wilhelm couldn't speak up because he was "not allowed". So he's still bound by his royal duties, which is why Simon broke up with him last episode.

Subtext: And since Wilhelm is still stuck, he's left on dry land, while Simon swims away from him, free. Guys, I'm thinking we're actually gonna get a sad ending! This does not look good! 😭

Blink and you miss it: Stella and Fredrika are sleeping in the same bed and making out the morning after, and millions of #Stedrika shippers are rejoicing! Yay, fanservice!

Blink and you miss it: Walter is helping Henry up after he passed out in the grass outside after the party, and millions of #Walty shippers are rejoicing! Yay, fanservice!

Subtext: The last photo Wilhelm takes down from his wall is the one with him and Simon, because that's the most important memory of this place.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm shuts off his red lightstrip in his room. Those lights have typically been a symbol of his love for Simon, but he's turning it off. Sad ending confirmed.

Meta: Listen, it's a lovely little song that Simon wrote for Wilhelm, but it's 100% fanservice, it's referencing events in the show that Simon actually didn't witness, and it's even referencing the soundtrack to the show itself! I mean, come on! And we're getting yet another sad boy Wilhelm montage of him moping around Hillerska with his earbuds.

Subtext: Remember how the frog snowglobe was a gift from Erik, who in turn got it from their grandpa, the king? It's so obviously a symbol of the monarchy, but Wilhelm is dumping it in the trash. Are we... Are we not getting a sad ending?

Cinematography: The shot of the flag being raised is cut off at half mast, which is a pretty universal symbol for mourning. Oh ok, we're back on track for a sad ending.

Subtext: This is the first time this season that Simon speaks Spanish with his mom, and the first time in the entire series that Sara does, which shows that they're fully themselves again, they've pulled themselves out of the Hillerska world.

Culture: The graduating students are having a champagne breakfast before the graduation ceremony, that's also very common in Sweden.

Subtext: Felice and the rest of the choir decided to have a little rebellion and not sing the boring old Hillerska song, and instead the new improved one that Simon made last season. No-one told him about the switch though, which is why he's so surprised.

Culture: After the ceremony, the graduating students will run out of the school to find their parents and family and friends, who are waiting for them, usually with a big sign with the most embarrassing baby picture they could find of them.

Blink and you miss it: August's mom and stepdad have also made a huge sign with an embarrassing picture of August Malte as a kid. Adorable.

Lost in translation: The queen is saying "lilla gubben", which literally means "little old man", a very common term of endearment in Swedish families. The show has been pretty consistent in that Wilhelm's family are all using normal words, just like any other family would. So it's pretty funny that despite everyone else using titles and styles all the time, to Wilhelm, his parents are simply "mamma" and "pappa", as if he was a regular kid.

Subtext: As a graduating student you get little gifts from your family, flowers, champagne, stuffed animals, all with a blue-and-yellow ribbon so you can hang them around your neck. August is family, so the Queen gives him one as well. Of a frog with a crown. Which is a symbol of the monarchy in the show. Wilhelm threw his frog in the trash, August is getting a frog from the Queen. I think there might be symbolism here! I think we're setting up August to become the next king! Do we dare hope for a happy ending?

Cinematography: Just fucking look at this shit. The composition, the contrast, the height difference, the distance between them. It's so pretty. And they're talking about how good it was while it lasted, just like how a TV show with a sad ending can still be an amazing experience. Hint hint.

Subtext: We're saying our goodbyes, Wilhelm and Simon are saying goodbye to each other, Wilhelm wishes Simon a nice summer, just like how Simon wished Wilhelm a good Christmas back in season 1, and just like back then, they both understand that they love each other, but can't be together.

Cinematography: And then Simon exits the scene, again, leaving Wilhelm standing there alone, again, having seemingly chosen his family and royal duty.

Culture: It's common to either rent a truck as a large group of students, or to be driven in a flashy car alone or with a friend. The two girls in the centre are sitting in a very nice Aston Martin, while a bunch of their classmates are on a truck. I can't make out the full text on the banner, but I think it says something like "Lock up your sons because tonight we become like animals".

Culture: Svensson is a very common Swedish last name, so to "be a Svensson" basically means that you're super average and mediocre, you're like everyone else. Whereas these elite kids are used to having everyone else bow and scrape for them, so that message is on brand.

Cinematography: We're in the car, it looks like the ending of season 1, and we're doing a close-up of Wilhelm's face. We're ready for the fourth-wall-break of him staring sadly into the camera, having been once again broken down by the system and not getting the boy. We've said goodbye to everyone, roll the credits, start your crying...

Cinematography: ...except the show isn't ending here. We're having an honest conversation between Wilhelm and his parents for the first time. Because every other time he's said that he doesn't want to be crown prince of the next king, he's been angry or upset, he's been threatening, and definitely impulsive. But he's never wanted any of it.

Cinematography: His parents let him go, they open the door to their van, Wilhelm exits, and the show turns up the volume of the soundtrack. "Energetic music" my ass, it's the Harmony theme! It's the main theme of the entire show playing as Wilhelm runs away.

Subtext: Oh, yeah, August sees him run away, and understands that he's next in line now. Sorry buddy, sucks to be you, but never mind that now. RUN, WILHELM, RUN!!! GET YOUR MAN!

Cinematography: The shows turns into the most perfect rom-com, with Wilhelm chasing down Simon's car through the incredibly lush and green Swedish summer. He catches up to them, tells Simon that he ditched the crown for his own sake, and asks if it's really over between them.

VAD FAN TROR DU?

As if the soundtrack wasn't triumphant enough, it now starts playing As Long As you Are Here as they throw themselves in each other's arms. Happy ending! They're crying, I'm crying, we're all crying! 😭

Cinematography: A montage? With all the best scenes between our boys from the entire show? With the text of the soundtrack perfectly matching the montage? I should be outraged at how cheesy this is, but it is perfect. Perfect. I love it. I swear, this fucking show.

Subtext: Finally we are at the true ending of the show. Wilhelm has managed to escape Hillerska, him and Simon and Sara and Felice have all escaped the hierarchies, the expectations, the duties, and the toxic environment of the school. He arrived in a Ferrari, and is now running away with his boyfriend and friends in a crappy Volvo station-wagon. The stiff suit jackets are gone, they're all in white, his hair is ruffled in the wind, and for the last time ever Wilhelm looks into the camera. And he smiles.

He is finally free.

#young royals #young royals subtext #young royals analysis #young royals season 3

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venelona · 29 days ago

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Write My Report author notes

Today is one year since I first posted my Dazatsu fic 'Write My Report' (PM Dazai x PM Atsushi, Atsushi works as Dazai's secretary), so as I edit through all 100k+ words of it, I bring you author notes - include my favourite things about the chapters, thoughts behind some moments and fun (?) facts.

!SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE FANFIC!

(fanfic quotes will be in italics, bold italics are just the words that were italics in the quote- it makes sense- i promise-)

Starting with, of course,

Chapter 1:

I think the whole premise of the fanfic was born by that one time Dazai asks Atsushi to write his report for him after Dazai returns from his mafia kidnapping. Second half of the plot with him helping Atsushi conceal his tiger ability was an excuse for them to hold hands every full moon. I thought it would be a shortcut to my beloved 'one bed' trope. And then it didn't shortcut shit because I slow burned the hell out of it

'Great - now he was alive and uncomfortably wet.'

"I… I- I can't believe I'm going to get fired because of a guy who wanted to drown himself over paperwork." - Sweet sweet irony 😌 You want Dazai to live, Atsushi? Get to paperwork then

'Great - now he was alive and uncomfortably wet.'

"I… I- I can't believe I'm going to get fired because of a guy who wanted to drown himself over paperwork." - Sweet sweet irony 😌 You want Dazai to live, Atsushi? Get to paperwork then

I never described Atsushi's waiter uniform but this is kind of how I imagined it looking. No I don't have explanations. Literally just 'the vision.'

I guess I never described Atsushi's secretary clothes, tho it's been referenced that he has a jacket. Its also drawn on the cover lol

'He briefly contemplated drowning himself, but he didn't want his last day to be so full of Chuuya, so he decided on another kind of drink tonight.'

Dazai mercelessly shooting the guy in the bar who saw Atsushi transform was one of the things that were supposed to back up that 'Dark Dazai' tag. And then I kinda forgot to make him do more evil things later on lol He kills more people but more off screen and I kinda fumbled that tag ngl

COOL FANART COOL FANART LOOK AT THE COOL FANART something made me hate that scene but then zinder came in and made me love it 😭💖💖💖

'"Ah, you're awake." A vaguely familiar voice called from the doorway.' They caught Atsushi trying to cross the boarder-

The section where Dazai explains Atsushi about how he's the tiger and offers the deal is the only section where one POV breaks and you can see the other, but I decided to keep it. It was written this way because I didn't plan on keeping their POVs very separate, but then they never broke again lol

"Close your mouth, Atsushi, I already saw plenty of your fangs today."

Atsushi never, for even one second, regretting helping Dazai and saying so to him every time 😭🙏

I love writing canon moments altered by whatever the premise of the fic is - in this case, PM Dazai and Atsushi. Canon parallels - Dazai blackmailing Atsushi into the job.

Never really described but Dazai's office is on the first floor in part of it where not a lot of people pass by. All executives have more proper offices but Dazai really just took a room he didn't need a lot of time to get to. That makes Atsushi's work a bit annoying because most mafia clerks work on other floors together and he alone gotta run back and forth

It probably shows but I know nothing of the ways of office paperworks

"Eh, you're doing fiiine." His employer waved from the couch. "You're doing a way better job than I ever did, Atsushi." "How?.." "You're looking at the papers." Dazai smirked. "That's more than I usually do."

Initially one big point of conflict was supposed to be that Dazai holds a very high position in the mafia, so the papers he handles is full of very valuable information. And the fact that he let Atsushi into all of that information gives Atsushi some degree of power in the mafia, but also makes him a target for others... and then this never really came up lol

I don't think this was ever outright stated but Dazai's apartment is on a very high floor - not last one, but still high up. Like, twenty or something. The whole building inhabited by mafia workers, but he's really the only big fish in it

"I can't just make something up! Besides, from the amount of complaining notes-" Atsushi pointed at the hefty pile of papers Dazai was sitting right next to. "People do read your reports." "Oh, you actually read these?" Dazai picked up a few papers from that stack. "I usually just throw them away." "It's not even all of them?!" "Oh, it's probably just from the last three days."

Dazai saying 'Chuuya probably wrote half of the complaints and that's why I am not reading them' is just an excuse. He's just too lazy to read them

Something about Chuuya being described as 'The hat man' is sending me

[Dazai and Chuuya] '"When was the last time I made a wrong decision, hm?" "I don't know, yesterday? In the morning? Five minutes ago?"'

'"Atsushi, you should visit more places." Dazai shook his head. "Do you even go anywhere on your days off?" "I don't have days off." Atsushi blinked at him. Dazai blinked back. "Really?" "You never told me I have any."' - Atsushi never even asking if he has off days for like two weeks 😭 He'd work without them too, that poor man. Dazai gave him Thursday off because that was the only day Dazai himself actually occupied his office before he hired Atsushi. Dazai was fine without an office (he'd find a place to laze around), but people were complaining that he's hard to find when someone wanted to talk to him, and so he told everyone he can be found on Thursdays. After he hired Atsushi he started spending like 50% more of his time in the office because when he wanted to laze around he was like 'might as well do it in the office, I can occupy the couch, I am not alone and people will shout at me less and even praise me for being at work)

'Atsushi shook his head again. He needed to distract himself. "So… that was Akutagawa, huh?" That was probably the worst topic he could've picked for a distraction, but anxiety hasn't let him think of any other at the moment.'

Never elaborated on but in this story other executives have a lot of people that are under their command specifically. Dazai still orders people around and gives them work and stuff, but the only person he hired himself before Atsushi was Akutagawa. So that's why Atsushi is kind of treated like a big deal by other mafia members. Also half the reason why Akutagawa was angry at his existence

Dazai telling Atsushi 'I think you and Akutagawa would work great together' was a nod to New Double Black. He was still envisioning it in his mind even though Atsushi was working as his secretary and didn't use his ability at all, but later on when he started caring for Atsushi he kind of waved that idea off because he didn't want Atsushi using his ability at all

'"Atsushi, I didn't give you a day off today so you could spend it calling me at eight in the morning."'

If you're wandering why I always juggle how I call Dazai (the brunet/the mafioso/the bandaged man) and others is because in school during language lessons one lesson that stuck to me was that you can't use the same word in two sentences in a row, or it'll sound bad. So half my writing comes from me trying to juggle the same words back and forth. h e l p

Never described but I like to imagine that Dazai got panorama windows in his living room. I never stated this because I don't think he would - something like that would up the chances of his enemies finding where he lives and Dazai wouldn't bother risking that. But... that's what my cinematic imagination wants

'"If you planned on holding hands all night, I regret to inform you that I have no habits of flirting with men."' - canon parallel + THAT WAS THE PREMISE OF THE FIC AND I BARELY DID IT 😭😭😭

'"Or you wanted to watch me sleep the whole night? I didn't think you were such a pervert, Atsushi."' - a set up for a joke in chapter 6. Yes. I thought of that stupid joke this far back.

'And, he supposed, watching Atsushi struggle with the paperwork made it a teensy bit more enjoyable to do. By which he meant it was still a nightmare and he'd rather throw himself off this very building than work on it, but still. A little bit more enjoyable.'

I got SO many comments on SO many chapters about 'when Atsushi will tell Dazai about his tragic past'. Either they missed the 'Probably had to do with that orphanage he talked about earlier, but Dazai didn't care for sob stories about the past.' line, or wanted something more- Dazai KNEW, he connected the dots, he just didn't care back then

Dazai was supposed not to care for Atsushi in these earlier stages but I kind of fumbled it and made him too caring a bit too quickly but. Whatever can you do.

#updates to this post shall be rebloged when i get to next chapters #bsd #bungou stray dogs #dazatsu #dazai #atsushi #dazai x atsushi #atsushi x dazai #bsd dazai #bsd atsushi #dazushi #write my report #write my report author notes

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kibbles-bits · 2 months ago

Note

any voxval fics you’d recommend?

Ah, yes, voxval fics... The one ship that finally made me cave and read explicit stuff. I am now numb to everything.

Everything.

I'll only be posting completed fics. Warnings, almost all of these are explicit. A couple also have Angel, you know, suffering.

And please mind the tags.

First off is a couple of favs that I always go back for a reread:

Corrupted Love by DoveFactory (Words: 149,495)

In a moment of blind desperation to one-up Alastor, Vox puts himself in a compromising situation that leaves him worse for wear. His state triggers something in Valentino who decides to change the nature of their relationship.

The title and summary of this is so misleading I thought it was going to be a dark fic but nope. The Vees are a bunch of goobers and Valentino always wins. I would scream about this every time it updated. I love the characterizations and their banter it almost made me forget there's sex in like every chapter. Honestly I wish there was more tags referencing the character/story stuff.

Virtual Reality by passthevoxcord (Words: 7,634)

Vox gets tired of his cybernetic biology being a barrier to his sex life, so he starts a new project to fuck Valentino in VR. Val will try anything once, but he has something else in mind.

This one ends up being so sweet I want to die. passthevoxcord's other fic, Only a Shadow, drives me nuts but its a WIP and hasn't actually gotten to the voxval yet.

choke behind a smile by gloriousmonsters (Words: 19,881)

"I'm not scared by extreme, although I doubt I'll find it interesting. What is it?" Valentino's eyes narrow slyly over his smile. "If you aren't scared, why do you need a warning?" Vox has everything under control in his new business partnership with benefits. His emotions, his unfortunate desires, the little mind games they play. Even Valentino himself. When Val offers an invitation to a special show he's performing, Vox knows it's a dare, and knows he has to take it, show Val that he can't be scared or destabilized. He has no idea of how deep under his skin the show will get.

Everyone's so normal. I love this Valentino. There's another Valvel fic that has the same Valentino I also recommend called bad girls go backstage.

Great Expectations by MarenRose (Words: 11,280)

“It’s his goal. Those three simple words. If he could get to hear them once, could let the reality of their meaning and spoken existence occupy his mind for only a few indiscernible moments, then maybe, Vox could learn to see the appeal of this god forsaken holiday. He might even learn to ‘love’ it too.” Or: Vox hates Valentine’s Days. His prick of a ‘wife’ is just too damn hard to please.

This miiiight have been the fic that made me Lock In on voxval? I'm not sure. It's sweet. Alastor is hilarious.

biting keeps your words at bay by Subedarling (Words: 1,511)

“You can’t hit me,” Valentino says. He’s practically vibrating with rage. “You’re not allowed to—you can’t hit me!” Vox sneers, cruel and mocking and hopefully masking the way his heart is breaking apart inside his chest. “Baby, I can do whatever the hell I want.” A decade into their partnership, Vox and Valentino have their first and last physical fight.

This might be the only non-explicit fic in this list. I am all for Val being the worst just because he's Like That. But I will not say no to an implied tragic backstory. I read this one a lot and want to die. Can I draw this. I want to draw this. Oh my god I have free time I can totally draw this...

And my other recs:

Just For The Record by PeppermintWalrus (Words: 13,795)

Vox is thrilled about his new film enterprise with his business partner, ready to build a lucrative empire for the denizens of hell to experience true cinema, in the only genre their depraved minds desire. There’s just one problem that he finds out too late; Valentino has never filmed porn before. Vox decides that some... hands-on teaching, is necessary to save their production.

Yeah you read that right.

a putrid feeling that i've addressed by spoondrifts (Words: 5,162)

They weren’t a couple because Valentino was pathologically noncommittal and Vox simply knew better. He tried the whole romance thing with a certain radio demon a few decades back, and he’d learned his damn lesson. Hell just wasn’t the place for that sort of cutesy bullshit. Also, he was pretty sure that Valentino was straight up incapable of love, which was both par for the course for Vox’s friendships and amazingly convenient—things couldn’t get complicated if there was nothing to complicate in the first place. Or: Full Moon, Vox/Val edition.

Haha I love pain. I lied, this is the second non-explicit fic.

Little Miss Hellion by DoveFactory (Words: 10,657)

Hell’s worst married couple spends a day of family bonding at a beauty pageant doing whatever it takes to make sure their daughter takes home the crown, because failure is never an option for the Vees. Pilot AU where Vox and Valentino are married and Velvette is their adopted daughter.

It's more Vees than voxval but they're married so.

The Art of Pimping by MarenRose (Words: 9,161)

Desperate to close a deal with one of the most lucrative investors in Pride, Vox does the unthinkable and pimps out Valentino for a one-time date. What could go wrong?

Val's attitude in this one is funny and Vox. Yeah. Vox made a mistake.

You Found Me by passthevoxcord (Words: 4,338)

Long before Velvette came along, it was just them. Vox and Valentino. Valentino and Vox.

Sobbing.

Something Less Than Dishonest by daphnerunning, Galiko (Words: 33,931)

He isn’t expecting the way Valentino walks, for some reason. Maybe it’s the extra limbs. Maybe it’s the wings. Maybe it’s the heels. Vox had skipped briefly through a few of the slut’s movies, for research, and isn’t expecting the way Valentino moves in person to feel so… Different. “…You must be my four o’clock,” he says, standing and offering a hand. Oh, shit, he’s huge. Valentino towers over him, easily would without the stripper heels. Vox is not afraid of heights.

Vox is so offensive in this it loops back around to hilarious.

Red Skies and Valentino by alternatedoom (Words: 86,050)

"Vox and I are special friends, doll. Go give him a kiss," Val says to the boy.

Angel does not have a good time. But the Voxval is nice.

before you go by xoTsundoku (Words: 4,426)

Before Alastor came into their lives, Vox and Valentino were happy. Maybe they still can be.

A Farewell to Ghosts by Accidental_Ducky (Words: 37,149)

"What do you think that is," Vox demands, pointing at the new guy. Valentino turns, eyes raking greedily over the man's body. He's gorgeous, skinny in a heroin chic way with big blue eyes and blond hair that falls just so across his eyes. "Hot." "Don't fucking call the ghost hot!"

The only human AU I've liked so far. Love the character interactions. Vox and Val are hilarious.

God I hope I didn't miss any. There's definitely some good WIP ones out there.

#Hazbin Hotel #Vox #Valentino #Staticmoth #Voxval #fanfiction recommendation #Asks #Anon

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miracleonice87 · 1 year ago

Text

new heights, new news, new baby

part of the kissing kelce universe

a/n: I've come to the conclusion that I will never be organized enough to make this a well-planned, thought-out, sequential series, so I've decided I'm just gonna post things hella outta order and then reorganize them into a chronological masterlist. deal? deal. 🤝 enjoy more daddy-to-be trav and, introducing, supportive uncle jason. takes place the day travis leaves for chiefs training camp.

warnings: mention of pregnancy / babies, mention of anxiety / sadness / loneliness, plenty of crying both happy and sad teras, swearing, I think that's it

word count: ~4,400+

___

July 22, 2023

“Now, before we get into our training camp preview and talk about some expectations for the season, Travis, you had a little something you wanted to say to the good folks at home?” Jason prompted, teeing up his brother on this week’s New Heights episode – the last they’d record before they both left for their respective camps.

Travis nodded, his blue eyes sparkling. “A little something, indeed, my brother,” he teased. “We have an announcement today, y’all! Alright nah!”

“Some new news, one might say!” Jason added, referencing the beloved segment of their podcast.

“NEW NEWS!” Travis shouted excitedly. “Yo, can I get a drumroll please?”

Jason immediately started rolling his tongue, pretending like he had drumsticks in his hand. Travis continued, speaking over the sound.

“This is like, the biggest announcement of my whole entire life. There were points where I never thought I’d be sharing news like this. It’s so crazy that I even get to do this right now. Gah dang. But, uh, anyway, I know we joke around here a lot, but this is a big one, folks, and I-”

Jason interrupted his brother’s emotional rambling, as well as his own sound effects. “Get to the point, please, my mouth is getting tired!” Jason picked his drumroll back up seamlessly as Travis giggled like a schoolboy.

“Alright, y’all… here we go,” Travis said, rubbing his hands together mischievously. “Mrs. Kelce, would you please come over here, sweetness?” he requested, his voice syrupy smooth as he extended a hand, inviting you into the camera shot.

Instead of crouching to put your face into frame as you normally would for your occasional brief pop-ins to the podcast, you stood next to Travis’s chair so that only your middle was showing, your stance perpendicular to the camera so the now-round profile of your belly was clearly visible. Jason gasped as if he hadn’t already known the news for months. You rested a hand on the top of your stomach, making it unmistakable what you and Travis were announcing, and he reached his own hand out to palm your bump, which at this point he could still easily do thanks to his impossibly big hands.

He held your free hand in his, beaming up at you, then looked back to the camera.

“We’re havin’ a baby, y’all!” he shouted, before letting out a “wooooo-eee!”

On the other end of the Zoom, Jason was clapping and whooping excitedly, matching his brother’s energy.

Travis then patted his lap, inviting you to sit down to, one, get you off your feet and, two, make it so your face was also visible in frame.

“This is the moment we’ve been waiting for, folks!” you heard Jason boom theatrically as you put on the AirPods Max that Travis had set aside for you ahead of the recording. “Wyatt and Elliotte have been asking every day since they found out what a ‘cousin’ was when they were gonna get one, asking why Uncle Travvy and Auntie don’t have babies like me and mommy, telling them they can take Bennett home with them if they wanted…”

Travis cackled, throwing his head back. “That is a true statement,” he said as he held your hips firmly.

“1000%, can confirm,” you added, wrapping your own hands around your husband’s. He squeezed your fingers a few times, and you threw him an adoring smile over your shoulder as his brother continued.

“And we all know Mama Kelce has been hoping for this for years now. So this is obviously something the whole extended Kelce family has been anticipating for a long time, and it’s finally here, and we couldn’t be happier for you guys,” Jason said, tone more serious now.

“Aww, thank you, my brother,” Travis said fondly, pressing a reverent kiss to your shoulder.

“Yeah, thank you, Jase, so much. We’re so excited to finally give the girls a cousin!” you said.

“Now, tell us how this happened,” Jason began.

Travis cleared his throat. “Well, you see, Jason, when two people love each other very much-”

The older brother rolled his eyes and interrupted.

“You know what I mean!” he insisted. “Just tell the people however much you wanna tell ‘em.”

Travis looked to you as if silently asking for permission, and you simply gestured toward the camera.

“Go ahead, Trav,” you said, a jesting tone to your voice. “I know it’s something you’re very proud of, so please share with the class.”

With that, Travis turned back toward the camera and waggled his eyebrows, getting as close to the mic as possible.

“Well, folks… we made us a Super Bowl baby,” he said dramatically before letting out his signature cackle. You simply deadpanned to the camera, Jim Halpert-style, and shrugged.

Jason nodded emphatically. “You suuure did,” he said with a knowing laugh. “You knew I was having a kid right after the Super Bowl and you wanted to jump on the train.”

You and Travis exchanged a devilish glance.

“Yeah, something like that,” you joked, knowing that jumping on Jason and Kylie’s train by conceiving a baby mere days before she gave birth to their third was certainly not your original plan. “I mean, what better Super Bowl souvenir could you ask for than a baby?!” you said wryly, causing Travis to look into the camera haughtily.

“A Lombardi, a ring, and a kid,” he said, counting off on his fingers. “Alright nah,” he repeated, far too pleased with himself.

“That’s awesome,” Jason said, still smiling. “Now, how are you feeling? I know it was a tough road there at first.”

You nodded, and you felt Travis’s hold on your waist tighten protectively, maybe even subconsciously. “Yeah, I was pretty sick there for a few months, couldn’t get ‘out of the house’ a whole lot, much to this podcast’s dismay, but thankfully, that mostly passed when my first trimester ended,” you explained. “We don’t wanna necessarily share our exact due date, but I’ll say I’m well into my second trimester now and I’m feeling good. I’ve gotten to enjoy not only just the relief of feeling better but also the excitement of sharing this with friends and family – obviously, Mama and Papa Kelce, you and Kylie, all my family, and we just started telling the team, too, which has been really fun.”

“Aww, that’s the best,” Jason remarked. “What was Big Red’s reaction?”

Travis piped up at the mention of his head coach. “Uh, to no one’s surprise, he looked me dead in the eye with the most serious fucking look on his face and said, ‘surprised it took ya this long, son,’” he revealed in his best Andy Reid voice, making you shake your head in amusement.

“Yep, nope, does not surprise me one bit,” Jason said, giggling. “And what about your boy Mahomes?”

“Aw, man, Pat was so pumped up, and Brittany, too,” Travis replied. “Pat just started runnin’ laps around his kitchen yellin’ ‘let’s go! let’s fucking go!’ He ‘bout knocked me over!”

“Yeah, those two have tagged us with babysitting duty on the regular for a couple years now, ever since Sterling was born, hoping that we would catch that baby fever and give her a playmate,” you added, laughing as you looked down at Travis. “I can’t say that’s necessarily what happened, but, um, either way, Sterling and Bronze will have another little team buddy to play with here soon which will be so fun to see. Brittany and Patrick have both been so great for both of us, just letting us know kind of what to expect, things that you might not learn in all the books or from your parents who did this a few decades ago. Especially with us all being on the same team, even just getting the lowdown on the logistical stuff, those two are just the best. They’re super excited for us which is just a really great feeling.”

“No doubt – I’ve got a feeling this will bring you guys even closer,” Jason mused.

“Absolutely – already has,” Travis said. “So, yeah! That’s the big ‘New News’ for today, everybody. We’ve been keeping this on the DL for quite some time, and we just wanted to be able to share this ourselves in the way we choose, because obviously with camp starting tomorrow and the season just right around the corner, cameras might catch some footage of Mrs. Kelce visiting camp, in the stands, whatever, and we didn’t want people to be weird, so… y’all heard it here first!”

“Damn straight,” Jason asserted. “And just one more thing… I wanted to say, before our mom-to-be hops off here. I, uh… aw, fuck, I swore to Kylie I wasn’t gonna cry,” he said, sniffling as he fixed his eyes toward the ceiling, blinking repeatedly.

“Aww, Jase!” you murmured as you watched him tear up.

“I’m good, I’m good,” he assured, still sniffling as he continued. In the corner of the screen, you could see your husband beginning to well up, too, and you caressed his thigh soothingly as he sat in poignant silence. “I just wanted to say that when Travis told us the news, that was truly the happiest I have ever seen my brother – and this dude has been drafted to the NFL, he’s been a Pro Bowler, All-Pro, broken so many records, won two Super Bowls. But by far, the happiest and most excited I’ve ever seen this guy is telling us that you’re having a baby. And as his big brother, that just makes me so fuckin’ proud.”

You and Travis were both pawing at fallen tears by now, and Travis could only manage a quiet “thank you.” You patted his knee and, after a deep breath, shared your own thoughts.

“Thank you, Jase, and while we’re making each other cry–” both brothers chuckled at that, “–I’ll say that I know Travis is going to be the best dad, not only because of the incredible man and husband that already he is, and the way you both were raised by your own amazing parents, but also because of the example you have set for him, Jason, by being such an awesome dad to your three girls.” You paused and took a deep, shuddering breath, and Travis rubbed your back to calm you. Jason was nodding, tears streaking his face. “So thank you for that, and for all your love and support through everything, and Kylie’s, too. You guys are gonna be the greatest aunt and uncle this kid could ever ask for, and Travis and I can’t wait to watch that.”

Travis let out a whistle, cheeks, nose, and eyes pink from crying. “Uh, I will never make it through this episode if I add anything more to that, so I will just say, here here, baby girl,” he offered with a laugh. “We love you, brother.”

“I love you guys, too,” Jason said as he finally regained his composure. “Whew! Yeah, how the fuck are we supposed to keep recording after all that?! Can we just be done? I am emotionally exhausted. I need a nap.”

As Travis giggled boyishly, you agreed, “I do, too, so I’m gonna leave you guys to it. Thanks for having me, guys; thanks for giving me a baby, Trav; and good luck at camp, Jase. We’ll talk soon.”

Travis tapped the outside of your thigh pointedly, his frequent way of silently requesting a kiss. You grasped his chin to peck his lips as Jason thanked you and said a final goodbye.

“Have a good nap, mama,” Travis cooed as you took off your headphones and returned them to their original spot. “Daddy’ll be up as soon as we’re done,” he added playfully.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder as you stood up and exited the frame.

“Oh, Jesus, he’s already calling himself ‘Daddy,’” Jason complained with a weary sigh.

___

Normally, after wrapping an episode, Travis would bound up the stairs and infuse your home with all the leftover energy he had built up during the podcast recording with his brother. One of your favorite things about him co-hosting the podcast, in addition to loving the scheduled opportunity it created for him to connect with his brother, was how buoyant of a mood he was always in after a recording.

But today, the feeling that settled over your household when he wrapped the episode about an hour after your surprise guest appearance was much less chipper.

Today, Travis trudged upstairs to do the one thing he’d been dreading all summer – say his goodbyes to you before leaving for training camp. Though camp at Missouri Western State University was only about an hour from your home in the outskirts of Kansas City, he wouldn’t be home again for five days; instead, he’d be staying on campus with the team and bunking in a dorm. Normally, departing for camp and knowing he’d be spending days on end with his teammates focusing on making themselves better football players excited him, save for a hint of sadness about being away from you, but this particular camp, having to leave his five months pregnant wife at home, he was not looking forward to by any stretch of the imagination.

When Travis pushed open the basement door, he found you lounging on the couch with your back to him, legs outstretched on the plush cushions as you cradled your bump, some version of the Housewives franchise playing on the TV in front of you. You tipped your head back onto the arm of the couch in order to see him and asked, “how’d it go?”

He took advantage of your position to rest his thumbs on your cheekbones and give you an upside-down “Spider-Man kiss.”

“Went great,” he answered curtly, a vastly different response than the pumped-up recap you normally received. “That was the easy part of today,” he added, gazing down at you with his brow furrowed. Even upside-down, he was struck by your captivating beauty, which only tightened the lump already forming in his throat.

Did he really have to fucking do this?

You groaned, drowning in your own feelings of dread, and sat up, signaling the dogs at your feet to follow your lead. You reached out your hands in order to allow Travis to help you up from the couch and gave him your bravest face as he did so.

“I’ll walk you out,” you said, feigning confidence. But the crack in your voice when you added “can’t have you showing up late” revealed the crack in your armor, and you watched Travis’s chin drop to his chest, his eyes fixed on his shoes as he forced himself to take one… step… at a time closer to the front door.

One foot in front of the other, Travis.

You led the way, fluttering your eyelashes repeatedly in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. The dogs circled your feet as you attempted to walk out the front door, and Travis, fearing a fall, whistled and called them back into the house, patting both their heads as he passed.

When the two of you reached Travis’s Range Rover, already packed with all he needed for camp – duffels full of clothes and shoes, an array of video game consoles, deck of cards and set of pong balls for the inevitable team drinking games, and all his favorite snacks, along with a secret handwritten note you’d tucked into his toiletry kit in order to surprise him upon his unpacking – you stood a couple of feet apart, quiet, your husband shuffling his feet beneath him as you shifted your weight uncomfortably from side to side. You gazed up at him helplessly, a rigid, lips-only smile fixed on your face, and he took this moment for yet another reveal, sifting through his shorts pockets to find what he’d grabbed on the way out the door.

“I know this sucks, sweetness, but… I do have a surprise for you…” He dangled a set of keys in front of you which you noticed were not his.

“New car?” you teased halfheartedly, recognizing the worn key fob to your Porsche after a moment.

“Mm, not quite, we got a baby on the way, ya know? Gotta save that coin,” Travis teased right back. “I think it’s better than a new car.”

You raised your eyebrows, staring at him expectantly. He let it marinate in your brain for a few more moments, finally breaking when you threw your arms around his waist, pressing your baby bump to his torso, and whined his name. He beamed.

“Alright, alright, you know that’s gonna work every time now,” he admitted, giggling. He caressed your jaw with his knuckles and you noticed the glimmer in his eyes. “Listen, I know you’re sad because I’m leavin’, but you gotta get on the road, too… because you gotta go pick up your mama from the airport.”

You gasped, covering your mouth with both hands.

“Really?” you whispered after a stunned pause.

“Really,” he confirmed, nodding.

You’d only seen your mom once since finding out you were having a baby, and Travis had noticed that your pregnancy had you feeling more homesick than usual. Especially with so many of the Chiefs better halves, who would best understand this phase of your life, having scattered for the offseason, and with Travis’s own mom and sister-in-law living halfway across the country, he felt awful that you didn’t have your mom nearby during this exciting, but unsettling, time. Knowing, too, that you always struggled being apart from him in those first few days of training camp, he had preemptively arranged for his mother-in-law to arrive in Kansas City just as he departed for St. Joseph, hoping that that would alleviate at least some of your loneliness at this delicate time when you were already feeling unusually vulnerable.

Travis melted when you threw your arms around him again, this time desperately, not jokingly. He rubbed your back, beaming when he heard you whimper, “thank you.”

“Of course, sweetness,” he replied warmly, burying a kiss in your hair. “Anything to keep baby mama happy.”

You giggled, resting your chin on his sternum and tipping your head up to look at him.

“Yeah, you’re pretty good at that,” you praised, fondness thick in your tone as you rested a hand against his neck. “When does she land?”

Travis glanced at his watch. “Just over an hour,” he informed you. “So don’t rush. You got plenty of time.” A proud smile slowly stretched across his face as he added, “I got a lot of fun stuff planned for y’all this week.”

Your eyebrows lifted, your excitement building by the minute, and Travis watched your face light up with each word as he continued.

“You guys are gonna do a spa day tomorrow, got you a suite at the Royals game the next night, then you’re gonna come see me at camp, obviously, because I wanna see Mama, too. And then you’re gonna go run around and do your registry for your baby shower, because she knows all the stuff we’re gonna need, and weeee… do not,” he admitted, laughing.

The corners of your mouth pulled down as your face contorted, eyes welling with tears, and Travis could see that you were overwhelmed with emotion, humming a laugh as he guided the side of your head to rest against his chest.

“And that’s why I waited to tell you – because I knew you’d cry every other hour ‘til she got here,” he told you, only half joking, as he hugged you tight.

A giggle bubbled forth from your lips. “You were right, like always,” you said, voice tight, so appreciative of how well this man knew and cared for you. “You’re so thoughtful, Trav, thank you so much.”

“I mean it when I say literally an-y-thing for you,” he repeated, emphasizing each syllable. “I love you so much,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. And after a deep sigh, he regretfully mumbled, “And now I gotta go.”

You pushed away from him slowly, your left hand lingering on his broad chest as he looked down at you with what had to be the saddest expression you’d ever seen him wear. He gathered your hand in his and pressed a lengthy kiss to your wedding rings, then the skin around them.

“Go be great,” you whispered, smoothing your other hand over his stubbly cheek.

Travis’s eyes closed and he drew a deep breath, committing the feeling of your touch to his memory. With a final squeeze of your fingers, he forced himself to back away and open his driver’s side door.

As he climbed into the seat, he pointed at you and said firmly, “You and that baby stay safe while I’m gone, alright?”

You nodded weakly, trailing a hand from the top of your bump to the underside. “We’ll do our best, Daddy,” you promised as he shut his door, the window rolled down.

At that, Travis’s eyes filled with tears – he had known it was only a matter of time until it would hit him, leaving you for the first time for more than a day since you’d found out you were expecting. And seeing you, hand on your belly, standing in the driveway alone as he started his car and prepared to pull away for the better part of a week… yeah, that did it.

He blew out a controlled breath through pursed lips, putting every ounce of his will into putting the car in drive and coasting toward the front gate to leave.

He could see your lower lip quivering even from afar, and it sent a zing of anxiety through his entire being — though he’d never enjoyed saying goodbye, he’d never once felt anxious leaving you for camp. Until today.

“I love you, Mama,” he called out the window, inching slowly toward the gate. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

You nodded. “Okay,” came out in a croak. “I love you, too.”

“Be good,” he forced out.

You nodded again, but didn’t trust your voice to allow you to respond with words. You simply waved one last goodbye as he did the same, forcing a signature Travis Kelce smile and wink while simultaneously trying to keep his shit together in front of you.

But as he passed through the gate and down the drive, watching you shrink into the rearview mirror and finally disappear as he turned toward the freeway, his breath caught in his throat and he broke down, tears blurring his vision as he pressed ahead down the familiar route. For a minute or two, he simply let the sobs wrack his body as he swiped at the ever-flowing tears with the back of his hand, letting out the occasional frustrated growl, usually saved for a missed ball in the end zone. As he attempted to calm himself down, he glanced at the recent calls list on his car’s hands-free device.

And, moments later, in suburban Philadelphia…

Jason hadn’t been off Zoom for more than twenty minutes when his phone rang with a call from his kid brother. Smirking knowingly at the screen, he situated five-month-old baby Bennett in her bouncy seat and tapped the green button.

“Figured I might be hearing from ya,” Jason answered the call.

Sniffling and confused, Travis blinked a few times.

“You did?”

Jason let out a chuckle. “Yeah, you just said goodbye to her and now you’re, what, three miles down the road to camp?”

Travis was quiet and rubbed a heavy hand over his face.

“Five, but… yeah,” Travis mumbled.

Jason hummed as if impressed, gazing at his oldest two daughters who he swore just yesterday could barely hold their own heads up and were now talking animatedly amongst themselves as they dressed and posed Barbie dolls in their prized pink Dreamhouse. “Well, then, you made it two miles further than I did before I called Mom my first training camp when Kylie was pregnant with Wy, so, props.”

“Really?” Travis inquired.

“Hell yeah, dude. It’s the worst fuckin’ feeling,” Jason responded, the sensation still visceral. “Leaving your wife and unborn baby to go live in a dorm with a bunch of sweaty dudes… it goes against every instinct in your body.”

“Yeah, for real… And I used to love camp, too,” Travis sighed. “I just feel so guilty, man.”

“I know. But you’re doing it to provide a sick ass life for her and that baby — you’re making sure they’re set for life,” Jason reminded him. “You just gotta focus on that as best you can.”

The smallest of smiles pulled at Travis’s lips. “That what Mom said to you?”

“Of course — you think I came up with that on my own?”

Travis giggled at that — the way only a big brother could make you do, even in the midst of misery.

“It’s gonna be okay, Trav. I promise you,” Jason told him firmly. “You did the right thing flying her mom in; she knows who to call in the off-chance something does go wrong; and… uh… and she knows she’s got our support because she’s calling Kylie right now,” Jason finished, handing his wife’s phone to her as she approached the coffee table where she’d heard it ringing.

“Is she really?” Travis asked, both relieved and more upset knowing that you, too, were seeking comfort from his brother’s experience with Kylie.

Jason and Kylie shared a sympathetic glance before she answered your call, and as he walked down the hall out of her earshot to allow you both privacy, Jason replied, “Sure is. And as you know, she couldn’t have picked a more perfect person to lean on right now. This isn’t easy by any means, but we’re here for you guys. So are Mom and Dad, Brittany and Pat, so many others. Remember, this is day one — it does get easier from here.”

Travis trilled his lips as he exhaled, his body already relaxing thanks to his brother’s encouraging words.

“As much as I hate to admit it, that’s a great point,” Travis conceded. “Thank you, bro. I appreciate you more than you know.”

“Anytime, Trav. Always in your corner. Love you, brother. I’ll check in when I’m back at camp too.”

“I’ll hold you to it. Love you, Jase. Bye.”

#kissing kelce #travis kelce #jason kelce #travis kelce fic #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce fanfiction

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brucewaynehater101 · 2 months ago

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I remember this one shot where tim & bruce swaps bodies while bruce is as batman in some jla meeting. Tim just continues it perfectly.

This is the body swap au, btw

Anyways, would Tim do a good job as Batman?. I think if Tim sees the swap as something brief he would do his best. (But we all make them swap long enough to Tim having enough time for long term plans) so if Tim gaslights himself into believing they would swap back after some weeks, he would do better. He thinks he can do better as a way to show he can be Batman without being a evil one(he's fighting the gun Batman allegations).

Still, it would be funny that in his "I'm gonna fix Bruce's life while am here plan".

Tim acts less as a classic moody batman while in the atalaya. Gives more and kind advice. He talks with Superman about his situation with Kon. He helps Flash with his eating schedule. He helps Arthur with whatever is going on in Atlantis. He shuts off all of the surveillance on Bruce's coworkers, just to mess with Bruce.

He just avoids Martian tho.

Then, it's been a month since the swap. They don't seem to find any way back. Tim cannot lie to himself anymore and the Batman duties are becoming way too much.

Then Bruce dies in Tim's body.

Tim never wanted to be Batman, neither to be like Bruce. But he messed Tim up. Tim never wanted to be like Bruce Wayne. And now he is living his nightmare, every day since Bruce death, Tim has to wake up and avoid his reflection. Tim never wanted to be like Bruce Wayne and now everyone call him the wrong name. Bruce died and Tim does what he does best, he sacrifices. He ditchs his identity any hope of being Tim Drake, so Batman can rise once again.

(The last paragraph is a little darker end of the version of this au where Bruce dies in Tim's body. I happily would read some of your ideas where none of them dies tho. There's just so many aspects os this au we can develop more, also we need more bruce pov of this).

Here is the post being referenced!

[I'm sorry to say that 90% of Bruce POV's are just gonna be him suffering.... I can try, though. Put up a valiant effort]

Let's really pack in that angst, shall we?

For this AU, Tim has been compared to Bruce so many fucking times.

At first, despite his shaky relationship with the grieving man, he took it as a compliment. He was like his hero Batman!

It started with Alfred fondly tutting over Tim's capacity to neglect self care duties and his shared interests. The older man would sarcastically ask Tim if he was following Bruce's footsteps of being a loner who sits in his basement all day (just teasing and joking and slight reprimanding).

Then there were the heroes that remarked on Robin's uncanny ability to do the batglare or translate Bruce's grunts.

When Steph and Tim got into arguments (and Tim was being a grade A asshole), Steph would compare Tim's emotional incapability and distrust with Batman's.

Dick, in the heat of the moment, has yelled at Tim to stop acting like Bruce (they got ice cream afterwards as an apology).

Jason has tsked and grumbled and shouted about Tim being molded into Bruce's shape/image.

Even Babs has made a comment or two.

While they didn't mean to hurt Tim (unless they were fighting [for which they would both usually make up and apologize]), it caused a small dig and insecurity to Tim's own self-image.

He wanted Bruce to be proud of him.

Tim wanted to be nothing like Bruce.

Then you add on the 16th birthday, Bruce's shit with Steph, how Bruce treats his other kids, other canon events, gun Batman, and Tim losing the rose-colored glasses of childhood?

Yeah. Tim doesn't want to be Bruce.

It seems fitting, after stealing Robin, that he'd get stuck under the name of the man he grew to see as a warning.

It figures that his choice in saving Batman lead to Tim's loss of self.

[Hmm... I can do another post chatting about Bruce or no one dying if you would like.... Or someone else dying before the truth comes out :)]

#thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au #body swap au #tim drake

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shiorimakibawrites · 1 month ago

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Day 4 - Dusty Rose

Prompt: 4 - “Are you blushing” + 6 - Love Bites Character: Matt Murdock Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Word Count: 728 Warnings: Referenced sexual activity, swearing, teasing Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

Dusty Rose

Matt just wanted to surprise you with breakfast.

It seemed like his plans were going off without a hitch. He had left you sleeping, naked and sated, in the bed while he dressed himself and silently slipped out of your room. He left no note, confident in his ability to return before you woke up. While Nevermore wasn’t the closest coffee shop, it was usually less busy at this hour than the Coffee Crab.

His first clue that something might be gone awry was the number of girls who giggled when he walked past them. A few wasn’t unusual but it seemed like every girl he passed ended up giggling and whispering to her friends comments like ‘true facts’ or ‘absolutely agree’.

And he had no idea why.

It was a little tempting to stop someone and ask what was so funny. But he had a limited time to complete his mission so he decided to ignore it.

As predicted, Nevermore wasn’t too busy. The giggling continued to follow him but he continued to ignore it. Right up until he heard Foggy’s familiar heartbeat walked into the cafe and immediately began to snort like he was trying not to laugh. He had almost regained control of himself when he joined Matt at the back of the line. Only to immediately struggle again.

“Hey buddy,” Foggy said, throwing his arm over Matt’s shoulder. “Have fun last night?”

“Yeah,” Matt said, attempting to sound nonchalant. “Got a lot of studying done while I was sexiled from our room.”

“I’m sure,” Foggy said, his tone extremely skeptical. “Didn’t know you were taking biology this semester.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Dude, you’re wearing your girlfriend’s sweatpants,” Foggy said.

“What?!” Matt felt the pants and realized that Foggy was right. He had been so concerned about not waking you that he grabbed the wrong sweatpants out of the drawer . . .

“Which sweatpants?” he asked, having a sudden horrifying suspicion.

The grin spreading across Foggy’s face was clear as he answered, “Bright pink with ‘hot stuff’ written in red across the ass.”

Matt felt the blood flooding his face and knew he was blushing.

“Also . . .”

“There’s more?!”

Foggy couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. “Foggy!”

“That vee neck you’re wearing is showing off those hickies running down your neck. Didn’t know your girl was such a vampire.”

He hadn’t been unaware of those little bruises forming last night but he had been rather . . . distracted. “Oh . . . didn’t realize they’d be so visible.”

“Curse of that pale Irish skin, buddy,” Foggy said with a mixture of real and pretend sympathy. “Hickies are the most vivid purple on the planet. And you all but glow in the dark when you blush.”

This only brought more blood rushing to his cheeks. “That bad?”

“Your face is almost as red as the lettering on those pants.”

Foggy was momentarily prevented from further teasing by them reaching the counter. And thank all that was holy and good, the barista was utterly professional the entire time. Matt was able to get his order and walk back to your dorm with what little dignity he had left.

That you had woken up before he could return only added to his disappointing morning.

“Hey Matty,” you called out. He knew when you had spotted the sweatpants mishap by the quickly stifled laughter.

“You can laugh, sweetheart,” he said with a sigh. “Everyone else has.”

You immediately took him up on that offer. Managing to say between giggles, “Can’t say I disagree with those pants.”

Matt grumbled a little as he held out your coffee.

“Matty, are you blushing?”

“No,” he immediately denied.

“I don’t know, Matty,” you said, pretending to be thoughtful. “That dusty rose looks an awful lot like a blush to me.”

“It’s your imagination.” Which only made you laugh at him again.

“What woke you up?” He asked, hoping to change the subject.

“E-mail notification,” you said. “Our morning class was canceled.”

“Really?”

“Yep, nowhere to be until noon.”

“Darn, I could have slept in.”

“You could get some more sleep, if you want,” you said. “Or . . .”

“Or?” he asked huskily, feeling his cock swell as your scent of your arousal began to fill the air.

You let your robe drop to the floor. Leaving you naked once more. His mouth watered.

“Or you can fuck me, Hot Stuff.”

#tuna tober prompt challenge 2024 #tuna tober 2024 #tuna tober #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #day 4

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alucardens · 6 months ago

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Yeah though seriously- you might not ship Buck and Tommy and that's okay- everyone is entitled to their opinion as long as it doesn't harm anyone- what makes it not okay is when you say things like you're being queerbaited- in a show that *literally* has a canon lesbian couple (where one half of the couple is a main character) SINCE the first episode of the show, that, 1) consistently, as a couple, have storylines that get resolved in a way that shows the writers aren't brushing the characters away, and arcs that show character growth.

2) NONE. NONE. Of the canonically queer characters have been harmed in a way that resulted in permanent death. And when they do get in harms way (which is inevitable- this is the nature of the show), it's done in a thoughtful way- their actions and risk of death/ injury WOULD add something to the plot/ storyline. Their loss would have an impact on us as the viewer. They would not be meaningless deaths. And aside from death, even queer characters who 'exit the main storyline of the show' but are otherwise alive, are still done with thought and care. I mean, (and spoilers for the first few seasons of the show,) Michael's storyline lasted (iirc) about 3-5? seasons. (We are not talking about meta events such as why they removed the actor from the show). He and his (named AND on-screen) husband, David, move to help people. His husband is literally a neurosurgeon. There was literally an episode revolving around Michael's proposal to David. Even after they've moved away, they're STILL referenced and talked about. They're not pushed away or ignored like the way some shows treat characters who aren't there anymore.

Josh (my bby fr), who's also been canonically gay since his first appearance, also has a arc that's real and very very relatable to most of us. The show takes it fucking seriously as well. And Josh is GOOD. Even as a side character, he's not reduced to the 'gay best friend'. As I said, he has his own storyline and arc, he has his own opinions, he's good at his job.

Aside from the main characters, imo, 911 also does a damn good job of showing that queer people exist. You might not like it because 'oh they're showing queer people who are in danger/ not happy/ dying.' To which I'd respond by saying that you're watching a show about paramedics. As much as we like to say this is the gay firefighter show (accurate lmao), we need to remember that there's going to be dark themes in this show.

I don't remember every call they've come across that involved queer people, but we for sure remember the 'we ever only wanted to go together' scene, with the elderly husbands. Yes it involves death. That's why we're seeing this scene in the first place- the engine wouldn't have to respond to a call if there wasn't a call in the first place. But it also fucking shows queer people growing old together and making a life for themselves. The opening scene is literally a montage of the husbands' relationship over the years. I don't know how many mainstream shows put that much fucking care in queer characters.

And then there's also the wlw couple in that car accident thing- not as significant as the husbands but like, that's the point, is it not? Not all their calls are significant- we don't even see all of them. The point is that they just show queer people existing as a general thing. It's not strange that the two women who were in the same car in a crash are both gay. There's no weird over-sexualised kiss. There's no show or mention or even hint of homophobia or confusion by the firefighters. It's fucking normal. So yeah. Do I ship endgame Tevan? Not at this moment. Do I like them together as a couple right now? Fucking yes. My personal opinion is that I like Buck and Eddie together more (at least for now), but why would I not ship Tommy and Buck right now? It makes no fucking sense not to. Buck is in a happy (queer) relationship, he's still figuring himself out as a bi man in his 30s, he's dating a masc man, who's past is messy and has since grown (oh look at that, another character arc revolving around a queer person), and they're clearly fucking happy together.

Anyway. I have a lot of feelings about this lmao. You want proper bi representation? Bro. I don't know what to tell you but you're looking at it.

#buddie #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 season 7 #tevan #evan buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #911 discourse

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afreakingdork · 6 months ago

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Weak Spot - Chapter 69

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Donnie is anxiously waiting for this week's penultimate chapter with art by @aimike17

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

“The make-up artist canceled!”

You sighed heavily as you tucked against the wall you’d ducked behind.

“Last minute! Absolutely absurd, this is exactly why I put a no-show clause in their contract. We’ll wring them dry! They’ll never decorate another face again as long as I-!! This puts only the photographer and officiant on time, but without the proper preparation then what is the point?! I dislike excessive editing. I want our photographs to be authentic! If only I could-!” Donnie thumped something loudly and you heard other voices trying to talk him down.

You pinched your phone between your shoulder and cheek so you could check your ring.

“Don’t touch me! Of course I’m not dressed yet! Do you see how filthy this place is! You! That garland is sagging! You petulant pond scum! If you think for a moment I will allow you too-!”

It felt like needles were pricking your skin.

It was stress.

It was frustration.

It was anger.

It was all Donnie.

Your mate was breaking down as the wedding planner and you were stuck in some backroom at the venue.

You rubbed your ring and wished the feeling would connect to your partner.

It wouldn’t yet.

You needed to put his band on him first.

“Where did you store these flowers!? You need to get them into water, now!” His voice rushed the receiver. “Darling, I apologize, I-! LUKEWARM WATER, YOU IMBECILE!!!”

You could be out there helping.

You could offset the pressure.

Together you could bear the load.

Only your fiancé had mistakenly gone off the deep end after his visit to Lady Nagami for his final suit fitting. She had asked where he was going to stay the night before. From that moment on you believed Donnie had subscribed to just about every wedding superstition that existed. Not that he believed a single one of them, he refused to let even a hoax interrupt your wedding day.

Your wedding party didn’t particularly mind the sudden booking of a luxe hotel, but being apart from Donnie in this instance was a terrible one. The closer it had gotten to the date, the less your mate left up to chance. Besides being the titular planner, he had removed others from their roles because he no longer trusted the work unless he saw it with his own eyes. It meant he was scarce not only that night before, but the five leading up.

Now a wreck and several hours out from the ceremony, you weren’t sure he was going to be in any state of mind to enjoy the wedding he so painstakingly coordinated.

You wanted to be with him so badly it hurt.

Spinning your ring loosely, you knew he could feel it if he just had his matching set.

You should have been the one to propose, you thought then.

“My heart?”

You breathed in deeply. “You know what I have to say.”

“Know that if it were at all possible to see you, I would cart you from room to room on my shoulders.”

You smiled at the imagery.

“I can’t chance it.” Donnie spoke softly. “I will see you as you walk down the aisle and not a moment sooner.”

“I know.” You held not only your ring finger, but your entire hand.

For the first moment on the call, Donnie quieted.

You heard the rumble of others.

Workers decorated.

Kaleb murmured in hushed tones.

Old lady Nagami must have responded because there was a sliding ‘s.’

Raph’s bassy tones argued with someone.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. prattled off what sounded like an endless stream of numbers.

You looked around the room that smelled of oak and felt locked away. It was a glorified closet, yet there was nowhere to hook anything. For whatever reason, it had two door which you supposed were for amassing entrances and exits to get away. This was nothing more than a connecting nook and you’d squirreled away in here after texts no longer seemed to cut it.

“I love you.” Donnie spoke clearly through the phone.

“I love you.” That helped; he always helped. “Hang in there. I need you present when I get in front of you.”

“Oh.” The sound was rounded with a static puff against the line. “All else will fall away. All we will need is to follow the necessary cues.”

“Then don’t pop a blood vessel until then.”

You heard a rustle and just knew he was checking his tech gauntlet.

The silence spoke volumes. “What is it?”

“My blood pressure is a tad high…” There was a grimace to his voice.

“Have you eaten? Did you drink water?”

“He hasn’t!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. bellowed.

“Mhm.”

“Get off the line! What have I told you!?” Donnie hissed.

“’Weh weh, don’t tap my phone, son. I love you, sport. Let’s go play catch after this!’” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. mocked.

“I-!!!” Indignity took Donnie’s very speech away.

“Caterer’s here!” Kaleb called and you heard sharp shoes click against hardwood.

“I… need to oversee this.” Donnie returned, regretful.

“At least they’re on time too.” You told him. “Get one of them to make you something plain. For me?”

“Alright.” He relented. “Soon. So very soon.”

“Soon.” You agreed and lingered until he hung up the line.

“Big green baby.” Coral’s voice drifted in behind you.

You didn’t have to turn to know she was reclined in one of the doorways. “I’m assuming your hair didn’t cooperate?”

“Shut up!” She spat, clearly scathed. “I’m last up! Don’t rub it in! I look bomb otherwise!”

You turned to give her attention and she struck a pose in a lilac dress.

It matched the color scheme and you approached.

She held out for a second before she came in as if there was a secret to share. “How’s he doing?”

“Not great. He’s worried.” You showed her the ring. “Nauseous, dehydrated, and tinges of vertigo.”

“You can tell all that from that thing?”

“Yup.” You closed your hand. “The make-up artist canceled.”

“Shit.” She clicked her tongue. “We could get by with what we got, but…”

“Yeah, Don does the best make-up I’ve seen but…”

“Still can’t believe he’s being all superstitious.”

You raised your brow in commiseration.

“Okay.” She clapped her hands. “Contacts. Let’s gather up all the phones and exploit people we know! Someone will know someone who can get their ass in here!”

Your ex-roommate turned with a pumping fist and you followed after her to what you dubbed the parlor. Another equally darkly stained wood room, there were a litany of leather chairs. The entire room almost seemed like something out of a Chesterfield catalog. Off to one side, Nelson and another of your bridal party members were trying to get a foosball table to work. In a corner near a window, Eugene and one of your cousins were doing their best to break into a liquor cabinet. You knew this was a space supposedly built for men to busy themselves while the bride prepared, but it had been passed to you for entertainment purposes. It was the safest hideaway while Donnie needed to rove the venue. It ensured he wouldn’t run into you.

You sat on an uncomfortable sofa and watched as Coral rounded up the room.

She had this, you decided.

You’d done most everything you needed.

You were dressed up.

You were otherwise primped minus make-up.

You were free to sulk.

There was a sharp stab in your finger and you winced.

Before you could even wonder what was wrong, your phone was out and you were typing out a message to ask.

Donnie’s text of having dropped a chafing dish on his foot appeared before you finished.

You typed out affections and for him to get it checked.

You could have done that for him.

You should be with him.

“Where are the parents?!” Coral seethed in a voice that broke the monotony.

You looked up to find everyone now gathered and furiously at work on their phones. “I heard your mom say something about the gardens.”

“That bitch.” Coral gave a crazed look and turned it on Nelson.

He had long grown from the nervous man you once knew because he didn’t break a sweat as he typed into his phone. “That bitch is more connected than any of us. She’s bound to know someone. You go. I got things here.”

Coral stamped her foot, clear emotion throttling her before she hugged him tight.

It took all of Nelson’s self control not to drop his device as his eyes shot wide.

Coral released and fled in a way that didn’t allow anyone to see her face.

Nelson stood a lolling figure as if Coral had wrung him out.

That was new.

You smiled and knew exactly how you were going to interrupt her speech during the dinner.

Nelson rebooted and whipped himself into shape. “Alright! We’re looking for a beautician! What have we got, people!?”

You should help.

You should stay here.

You should continue to sit on this terribly hard sofa.

You stood.

You meant to go over to them.

The room had gathered.

Without you.

Getting that make-up artist would help Donnie.

You wanted to help Donnie.

No.

You wanted to be with Donnie.

You craved his side.

You didn’t care about the missing professional.

You barely cared about the photos.

It seemed like a waste without him.

You flittered toward a door without realizing it.

“Hey…” Nelson warned.

Coral had been minding you since yesterday night.

She’d gone above and beyond in her honorific role.

She’d gotten your favorite dinner.

She had games ready for the nervous and lonesome night before.

She’d forced everyone to bed at an appropriate time.

She woke everyone up the next day.

She’d fielded an incredible breakfast spread before you piled into a van for the venue.

Everything.

You also hadn’t been alone once.

You hadn’t gotten a moment’s peace.

It helped in a way.

Of course she knew you wouldn't want to be alone.

She knew you’d break the superstitions in a moment’s notice.

In this way, she helped Donnie.

You loved Donnie.

You also very much needed a hit.

The texting wasn’t enough.

The call wasn’t enough.

You blamed the ring.

He was upset and you weren’t with him.

You needed to see him.

That would do the trick.

If you could catch a glimpse of him, it might help.

Who was the addict between you?

“Bathroom.” You decided without really knowing where you’d land.

“I’ll go with you.” Nelson tried to rush whatever he was typing.

“Yeah, not happening.” You tilted your head and challenged him with your gaze.

He lived with Coral.

He sent a similar look right back.

The stand-off pulled your cousin in and they looked back and forth between you.

“I can go to the bathroom by myself!” You threw your hands up. “Two doors and on the left. If I’m gone for more than 5 minutes you have permission to restrain me!”

Nelson studied you with narrowed lids before he found truth there and nodded once. “Fine. Anything else and it’s not my neck.”

“Yeah…” You turned and yanked the door too hard to get away.

Two doors.

One took you through that weird nook you’d taken your call in.

You went right.

Down a short hall that led to where you’d once seen a bunch of men congregating.

More family.

Family was crawling out of the walls.

You heard a voice and ducked toward the closest knob.

It surprisingly turned even though you weren’t sure this room was being used.

The voice’s drew closer and you closed yourself inside.

Your hand loosened as you took in the space.

It had a dreamy lilac tint to it and fine dust particles filtered through light pouring through the window panes. For a room that appeared neglected, there was also a sense of purpose. Fine wood furniture came in a matching set and was arranged like a set piece. You walked into it and felt like cameras could line the wall you had come in from to shoot this period piece. It would run on black and white televisions across America and you trailed a doily sitting on an end table. It was marked with a piece of aged porcelain that had finely painted details. You followed its pointed handle toward a mantle and looked over the scant knick-knacks there.

This was a room for photographs.

You knew your venue served all sorts of clientele. It had been part of the spiel during the initial interview. It was a conversation that had turned into a battle of wills between the employee and Donnie, but it had worked out. Their garden space was a stunning one and it was the rare moment during the many appointments where Donnie had taken a moment that wasn’t calculated. You could both foresee yourselves exchanging vows here and that was all that mattered.

You took one last stale breath.

You shouldn’t have felt settled.

You looked down at your hand.

Donnie was momentarily pacified.

Something was going right.

Each minute took you closer to one another.

A silly agreement in the scheme of things, it was yet another page in your life together.

You’d be alright not seeing your mate for now.

Today was good.

You felt buoyed and headed towards the door.

You’d make a pit stop in the hair dresser’s room and see how things were going.

You could see what make-up was in the vanity you had seen there.

You rounded a chair to leave when a disc of blue light appeared in front of the door.

Leo clad in a suit with an untied tie hanging around his neck then stepped through talking backwards through it. “No, there’s protocol! They’re separate, but they aren’t! Just like how hair is attached to your head! You know? Where the face is!? You need to talk to the hair person, you can’t just drop a make-up artist on them and expect-!”

He tried to stall, but both his legs hit the ground due to momentum.

He looked up at the ceiling and toward a corner of the room you weren’t in. “The hell? This isn’t the prep room! This place is a maze, I swear-!”

He rounded your direction and you only watched as he caught sight of you.

The portal behind him disappeared.

You knew the look on his face and gave a smug smile.

You’d seen yourself in a mirror not too long ago.

You knew you looked good.

Dressed in expertly tailored finery, you were a vision.

You supposed make-up was the finishing touch that would enhance the image, but still.

You’d gone through the whole process of getting ready otherwise.

You’d be standing beside Donatello after all.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Leo tipped his head with an appreciative eye. “If you took my breath away, think of what you’re going to do to that jackass.”

“There’s a bet on whether he’ll cry or not.”

“Oh, don’t you know? I’m running it.” He had a scoundrel’s smile as he walked over. “You pulling a Julie Roberts?”

He made it obvious he was checking your footwear and you tutted him. “You watch too many movies.”

Leo mimed jogging. “Then you’ll know how prepared I am for this wedding!”

“What’d you watch?”

Leo made an excited trill and held up his fingers to count. “Four Weddings and a Funeral, My Best Friend's Wedding, The Wedding Singer, The Wedding Planner, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and Mamma Mia! Duh!"

“Missing a few key ones.”

Leo scoffed so loud you could see the spittle in the air.

“Found a make-up artist?” You folded your arms.

“Yeah, me.” Leo waved his hands dismissively.

“No.”

“Yes.” Leo chirped like a know-it-all.

“You cannot do make-up.”

“I absolutely can.” In a swing of his arm, his phone appeared along with photos already up of drag performers. “Long story, but I helped out with some shows because I needed a hospital hook-up.”

“Show me yours.” You demanded and stalked towards him.

He pulled his device back only for a second before it was in your hands.

There you saw an image of Leo in a blond wig smizing his way out from the other queens he was framed with.

You couldn’t even laugh.

You smiled and blew out a harsh breath.

He was an oddity.

He was a pain.

He was a handful.

“You’re really our only choice?”

“With two hours, 27 minutes and 16 seconds, scratch that 15, or did I say 14? And, what was that? Like 15 people who need their faces painted? Uh yeah, I’m the best you got.” Leo pinched his device back up.

“Drag make-up is-!”

“Hup, hup, hup!” Leo held a quieting hand out. “I’m not trained. I’m not gonna pretend, but I have the steady hand of a surgeon and I know how to do an elegant, but understated look. I swear. You think the rancid raisin would let me do this otherwise? I did Mikey’s make-up in demonstration!”

You frowned deeply before you tore out your phone to text Mikey.

Within seconds you got a selfie of him clearly chewing something where his lackadaisical expression was contrasted by the soft glow of his skin and lovely accentuated eyes.

“Okay… he does look good.”

“Right? It’s not fair with that damn hair of his!” Leo was behind you and admiring the photo.

You flapped him away and he scurried out of your arm’s length. “Why do you need to talk to the hairdresser?”

“There’s code!” Leo scoffed and turned towards the door. “C’mon! Show me where it is! Clearly my portal map was not accurate!”

“Hmph!” You followed after him.

He caught the knob, but didn’t turn it. “You look amazing, by the way. You’ll hear that all day, but from me it’ll mean something.”

You slowed and studied how he wouldn’t look at you.

“If you weren’t doing the whole, on the aisle thing, I’d say you should have let him see you in here. I thought I’d fallen out of space time.”

“Leo…” He was so earnest his cheeks burned.

He chuffed faintly. “From soaking you in hand sanitizer to this.”

The dousing steam brought with it irritation.

He ruined everything good.

You would never trust this annoying man.

“Life’s a funny thing, ain’t it Y/N?” There was something carefree about the way he turned.

His smile honestly wrinkled his crow’s feet.

There was no deeper scheme.

This was just Leonardo Hamato.

At a wedding.

Your wedding.

“Thank you.” You told him with the same unrestrained tone.

“Yeah, well, same. I’m doing this and you pay me back by holding up your end of the deal. I want to ride out my pseudo-retirement on purse snatchers and the occasional bank robbery, nothing else, got it?”

You pushed him and he chuckled as he finally opened the door.

Everything flew by after that. From you getting your make-up done to Coral screeching as her unruly locks were eventually set, a photographer came through and began to document last looks. You were shot with family members and the party members now in a strict alternation in the garden. You hadn’t quite gotten to view the ceremony area in full yet, but glimpses of it through bushes made it look lush.

Finally, you were in place outside giant doors and a venue attendant came through to remind you all of the procedure. Music started up and the procession began. You watched person after person trickle out and away from you until you and another were left behind. You weren’t to be escorted out and given away, but instead you would be led to your destiny.

For maybe about the thousandth time, but who was counting?

Your feet edged pooling light and your arm was taken.

You stepped into the door frame and on cue there was a gentle gust of air.

It flittered a few loose flower petals from their toss earlier in a guiding line.

They settled in front of highly polished oxfords and you moved up tapered white pants.

Pressed with creases so sharp they could cut glass, they led into a similarly stark white tuxedo colored only with lilac accents.

You knew that Donnie had chosen to wear white, but seeing him in it now made the vision of him a warbled one.

You were getting closer to him and when your eyes met his, you felt the crowd fall away.

There was only the leading carpet and you walked it to him.

You were left and made the last step of your own to where neither of you had broken eye contact.

Someone was talking, you guessed, but you were mesmerized by watery eyes and a fateful smile.

Your finger throbbed with yearning and you reached out to adjust Donnie’s lapels as coyly as you could.

His arms ghosted up to support yours as if your breaching the space between your bodies broke the spell on him.

He coasted up and down your arms with eager digits that needed more.

Words spilled a backdrop, but there were only the two of you as he stepped in closer and tucked his beak into the crown of your head.

“I didn’t think it was possible.”

You tilted your head to peer at him against the proximity.

“I had every adjective to describe you, but I can’t remember a single one.”

A grin split your face and loosed a few of his tears.

He didn’t bother wiping them and you felt someone that was very much not your partner touch your arm.

The officiant looked scolding and mentioned the vows.

You blinked wide.

Your wedding was happening all around you.

You went to look at the crowd, but as soon as you caught Donnie’s eyes, you were alone once again.

He oozed palpable affection and opened his mouth for a speech.

You waited.

Nothing came out.

His mouth closed silently and his eyes opened sorely haunted.

He then checked with you before he searched his person.

“Left breast.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. leaned in from behind Donnie.

Your son was smartly dressed in a suit of his own and you wanted to appreciate it.

Donnie slipped his hand into his tux and pulled out some cards.

His hands shook.

Without thinking, you cupped to support them.

The moment the words steadied, he looked at you.

You smiled and squeezed his palms.

“A vow.” Donnie didn’t project in the slightest. “Noun. A solemn promise.”

He wasn’t looking at the cards.

“We’ll do the pre-written drivel last, but we decided to start with our own.”

You nodded.

The notes fell from his hands in favor of taking yours. “What can I pledge to you that you do not already have?”

“I don’t know.” You responded cheeky and the crowd giggled.

“You have it all.” Your hands weren’t enough and he caught your waist to pull you flush to him.

He took great care in placing one of your hands over his heart and held it there.

“I forgo this process. I have nothing more to give you. You own it all and this is merely a formality so I may say I am yours in yet another means. I would go through this hellish process a million times if only to sign the paper again and again. I would stand in line at the county clerk’s office as my purgatory if only to renounce my single being to a duo again and again. I have no speech. None of the hours I spent in writing it matter. Nothing I say will be comparable to all we’ve gone through or even the most inconsequential thing you’ve said to me. Instead, I wish only to declare my intent.”

He gave you one last squeeze before he looked out at the crowd.

“You wretches!” His fangs glistened as he grinned with every fiber of his being. “However you are known to me by association or cruel fate, I pledge thus…”

He left you completely and stared out as if someone would defy him.

You were sure there were reactions, but you couldn’t look away from your mate.

He was yours.

“Let it be known, from the moment I hatched to my dying breath-” Donatello turned toward you. “I was destined, am, and will forever be yours. In all forms and states of mind. In yours as well.”

You held your hand out to coax him back.

He took it, suave, and brought it to his lips, but did not kiss. “I love you.”

You signed it back and he scolded you by slipping back into his spot with a gentle nudge to your hip with his.

Anticlimactic, he addressed the officiant who didn’t seem to realize that was the end.

You knew.

They were words that in no other realm would he ever state so publically.

To anyone, no matter how close.

Only now.

Only for you.

You responded.

You said your vows and heard none of them.

You’d practiced them so many times you would be able to repeat them in the next lifetime.

They felt meaningless.

You weren’t even sure Donnie was hearing them.

He was only watching you.

For all intents and purposes, this event was already over.

Then came the classic lines.

To have and to hold from this day forward

You scarcely heard the officiant struggle.

For better, for worse

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. produced a ring.

For richer, for poorer.

Words.

In sickness and in health.

You didn’t need them.

To love and to cherish.

Action.

Until death do us part.

It was useless.

Donnie only mimed putting your ring on.

You had been wearing it and it was never coming off.

His ring, however.

Three nights ago you had imbued it with a drop of your blood.

Its mere existence had put Donnie on edge.

He wanted to wear it.

If anyone else chanced putting it on, you were up for grabs.

It had taken literally opening S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. up and placing it securely within his circuitry before Donnie would calm.

Now you took his hand and felt how assuredly steady it was.

He brought his digit up incrementally so you could slip the band on.

The moment it hit his knuckle, he twitched and stalled.

He felt you.

Felt how you had already written off the ceremony.

Felt how you were hungry.

Felt how you had the faintest nerves about the photos you’d been taking while the spaces were switched out for dinner.

All wholly new data that had never once been truly accessible to him, he might have given over to it had you not one more thing to do.

The officiant spoke those final words.

You moved into a kiss.

It was a cover.

As your lips met, the importance was your wedding bands.

Between your bodies and with cheers all around, your left hands met.

In a twist and lock, the two bands interacted.

You had seen mysticism.

Mikey’s chains.

Leo’s portals.

Donnie’s construction.

Raph’s form.

But you had never truly felt it until that moment.

It rushed through you on a cellular level and felt like an untamed thing.

It probed your worth.

It tested your bond.

It saw truths you held dear and ones you hadn’t committed to yet.

It then convened with ancient unknowable counsels.

It deemed you worthy and withdrew into your mystical item.

You were with Donnie.

Donnie was with you.

You parted from the kiss and it hadn’t been more than a few seconds.

You felt lifetimes intertwined as his forehead rested against yours.

His entire knowledge base wasn’t exactly yours, but you could sense it.

He could finally rest.

He had someone else to bear the load.

He would never be truly alone again.

You were rushed.

You had no idea who started it, but someone ran up to the stage and the other’s followed.

Friends and family, if whatever had occurred between the two of you was too much, it had somehow translated outward.

Decorum was lost and you were swarmed.

Lifted and cheered, you were surrounded by love.

In a physical sense it separated you both, but you were not parted.

You looked over the jostling bodies and found Donnie’s eye.

He met yours with a wrinkled one of his own.

Your Donatello.

💜NEXT💜

My betas joined me with Weak Spot and they will carry on with the next work! @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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