#and thank you gravity falls for my childhood | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarletttries · 1 month ago

Text

Baldur's Gate 3 Companions Love Languages (Baldur's Gate 3 Request)

Request: "hi! i loved reading your baldurs gate companions in love headcanons, i wanted to ask would it be okay if you wrote headcanons for what their love languages would be? or just how they would show love to their partner? thank you!"

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who sent in requests and reblogged my last Baldur's Gate post! Consider me open for any BG3 requests, let me know if you want to see more pieces like this :)

Astarion:

- Astarion has always had a way with words, and there's no exception in the way he sings his praises of you. He is quick to tell you how you have won his favour, how he prefers you to any of his other travelling companions, how he looks forward to the moment you open your eyes each morning. He will come up with a thousand sweet pet names to lavish you with affection, her purring voice leaving no trace of doubt that he doesn't mean exactly what he says. And he takes a certain sick satisfaction in describing all the things he wants to do for you the moment you are left alone together, and watching the blood rise up to your cheeks, only making you more appetizing.

- After years of what felt like indentured servitude, Astarion always feels himself falling only more deeply in love when you do him little favours and acts of service. He never stops being surprised when you've set up his tent for him because he could tell he was battle-worn this evening, or when you fetch him a cup of wine before he's even realised he was actually quite thirsty. He's never had someone know him well enough to anticipate his needs, let alone selflessly step up to deliver those things wanting nothing in return but to see him happy and at ease. He can feel himself grow more trusting and open of you with every kind task you undertake.

Wyll:

- Wyll has lived a life subject to many stories, and finds himself weaving a new tapestry of tales with his Words whenever he speaks to you. A simple good morning is never enough, he must soliloquise on and on about the way it feels to wake beside you, and how each ray of sunlight captures your beauty in a thousand different ways. He will wax poetic as you stroll through the lands, letting you know exactly what he admires about you, and exactly what your future adventures together would mean to him. He wants nothing more than to tell you the story that he sees the two of you writing together, every sweet word just another reminder that there's never been anything more important to him than you.

- You can show Wyll how much you care about him by just being there and sticking by for all the quality time he needs. This may include a lot of listening to the heartbreaking tale of his father's scorn, and sitting in supportive silence as he tries to let go of some of the weight he has carried on his shoulders thus far. You also need to be willing to put in the time to learn a dance or two, the retracing of steps bringing warmth to Wyll's heart and flooding him with all the brightest memories of his childhood. And when the dances have your bodies twisting closer and closer then Wyll has another idea of how you can spend some quality time together.

Gale:

- While Gale does see himself as a man of adventure, he is first and foremost a scholar of the magical arts and that requires a certain amount of Quality Time spent with his books. As he makes space in his life and heart for you, he views his time with you as equally precious. He loves that you two can sit quietly next to each other reading for hours, or just swapping stories of your adventures. He knows if the gravity of it all is getting on top of him, he can pass an easy day resting his head in your lap while the two of you discuss what the future could hold for you, giving him reason after reason to keep on fighting and never surrender to ache in his chest. On the rare occasions that Gale has to spend the day away from you, prepare yourself for the most dramatic reunion you can imagine when he returns - sweeping you into his arms, ready to cling by your side as he tells you everything you missed while being apart.

- Gale has heard and read a lot of pretty words in his time, knowing they are often not to be trusted in their intended meaning. So rather than telling Gale you care, you find it much more effective to just show him with your touch. He's a needy boy at the best of times anyway, but with a gentle caress of your fingers over the nape of his neck you can render the chatty wizard speechless and completely entranced. It's difficult to overstate how much of Gale's day he spends thinking about when it all grows dark and finally he can retire into your bed roll and feel your skin pressed against his, feeling completely safe and content in your company.

Shadowheart:

- Despite having little to offer and no intrinsic idea of an item's value, Shadowheart finds herself compelled to offer you small gifts and tokens of affection as you travel together. It might be an especially well aged bottle of wine picked up while exploring some abandoned castle, a bottle she hopes the two of you can share as the sun is setting that night. It might be a resilient flower she sees sprouting from a hillside, she can't help but tuck it behind your ear and marvel at the way it draws out the highlights in your eyes. A cup of water from a glistening stream, a smooth pebble plucked from the shore, a sweet handful of berries found deep in a thicket. Her hand is constantly extending out towards you, with some small reminder that you are never far from her thoughts.

- So much of Shadowheart's life has a been shrouded in dishonesty and mystery, so when you speak to her with only kindness and truth she comes to really value those Words of Affirmation. Giving her your honest opinion, and letting her talk through whatever moral quandary is playing on her mind, will strengthen the deep understanding you share and remind her of the way you give her something no one else has before. Let her know you're thinking of her too, that you care about how she's doing, and you like her no matter what version of herself she is becoming, and Shadowheart will continue to open her heart and mind to you again and again.

Karlach:

- Karlach has always been a helpful soul, even if she's been misguided in the past about who she's been helping. So her favourite way to show you she cares is through Acts of Service, doing little tasks for you and reinforcing that your life will just be easier if you keep her around and ideally very close by. She is particularly happy when she gets to do something for you that doubles as an excuse to show off her statuesque build; reaching something off a high shelf, lifting some heavy boulder out of your way, carrying you in her arms when the day has been long and there's still a journey ahead of you. She feels like she needs to improve your life in all these tangible ways in order to let you know just how appreciated you are, even though it would be impossible to ever feel like you were being taken for granted by this loving soldier.

- After decades of burning ultimately hot because of the infernal engine in her chest Karlach has become used to being a certain level of touch-starved. But when you first celebrate her mended heart by throwing your arms over her shoulders, all that need and want come flooding back in a landslide and Karlach is sure she'll never be able to stop squeezing you again. Show Karlach love through physical affection and this fierce warrior will be melting like a puddle into your lap at the slightest touch. Wake her with a hug each morning, let her fingers grip your hand as you explore the treacherous world, squeeze her thigh as you settle round the campfire each evening. Remind her you're there, and let her cling to you in a way she has always craved, and you'll have a very happy Barbarian on your hands.

216 notes · View notes

achromaticegoist · 6 months ago

Text

THE BOOK OF BILL TINY RANT (SPOILERS)

STOP. I CAN'T DO THIS TUMBLR. okay okay, I GOT IT DELIVERED LIKE 3 HOURS AGO AND I COMPLETELY FINISHED IT 😭😭😭🙏

I ACTUALLY CAN'T DO THIS ANYYYMOREEE. I SWEAR TO GOD I WAS GIGGLING, KICKING, SCREAMING MY HEAD OFF THE ENTIRE TIME READING THIS STUPID THING.

Did ALEX LIKE, *SCROLL* through FANDOM while making this entire thing BECAUSE WHY DID SO MANY PEOPLE LOWKEY EAT WITH THEIR OLD HEADCANONS? SUPPOSED TO BE THE DEATH OF ALL OUR HEADCANONS RIGHT??? EVERYONE PREDICTED AT LEADT SOMETHING LMFAOOOOO.

AND IF ANY OF YALL FOLLOW GRAVITY FALLS : AMBER SKIES BY JOZLYN MOON, THE POST WEIRDMAGGEDON SCAR THING BEING A PREDICTION IS FUCKING *CRAAAZY*

AND THE FACT THAT THEY KEPT COMPATING HIM TO THE DEVIL AND SHIT, LUCIFER REFERENCES AND "FALLEN ANGLE?" MY GUYYYYY the actual BALLS it takes to write this because I GASPED SO LOUDLY AT SO MUCH SHIT.

AND I WAS SUPER DAMN EXCITED ABOUT THE HENCHMANIACS ONE

GUYS THEYRE SO FUCKING STUPID 😭😭😭😭😭😭🙏 WHY ARE THEY ALL SO STUPID 😭😭😭😭 IM DYING OF LAUGHTER

SO MANY PEOPLE LOWKEY GOT SOME KIND OF BEEF WITH PYRONICA?? WHY ARE THEY SO INVOLVED WITH HER??? THEY HAVE A GROUPCHAT OH MY GOD THEYRE SO BESTIE CODED

Again I'm STILL FREAKING OUT ABOUT JHESELBRAUM THANK YOU VERY MUCH. I WILL SURVIVE ON THESE CRUMBS SO DAMN MUCH

TIME BABY IS A FUCKING COCOMELON ENJOYER 😭 HELPPPPPPPPP

GGGGGUYYYYS? WHAT? OH MY GOD?? WHAT THE FUCK?? IM SCREAMIGN. NO NONONO YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME THE ANGST.

AND NO. THE WAY BILL AND FORD HERE WERE FUCKKKK THATS SOME GOOD FUCKING TOXIC BILLFORD. DUDE NAH IM LIKE GASPING FOR AIR RIGHT NOW BECAUSE HOLY SHIT SOME OF THE STUFF HERE IS SICK BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT LIKE

AND THE

IM FREAKING

AAAA

FORD DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER THOSE PAGES MADE ME TEAR UP A LITTLE 😭😭😭🙏 NOOOOO

AND THOSE *SCRAPS* OF BILL'S BACKSTORY. GUYS CHAT NO I AM SCREAMING. SILLY STRAW CHILDHOOD TRAUMA LOWKEY WENT HARD AND HIS FAMILY AND THE *FUCKING SPECK OF HIS HOME DIMENSION*.

THAT ONE LITTLE TV SCREEN WITH THE EDWIN A ABBOT FLATLAND DIAGRAM IN THE BOOK THOUGH NAH CUZ FANDOM ATE WITH THAT ONE.

AA. AAAAAAAA. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AND WHAT THE FUCK 😭🙏🙏 DIPPERS HISTORY WAS SO FUNNY I COULDNT STOP LAUGHING BRO ALSO WENT THROUGH THE GREEN MNM STAGE

AND IM NOT EVEN GOING TO TALK ABOUT THE COLLEEN BALLINGER***** APOLOGY REFERENCE THAT SHIT WAS SO DAMN FUNNY.

ALSO THE ENDING??? WHAT THE--THERAPY? NO BRCUASE THIS IS ACTUALLY SOME MESSED UP THERAPY SHIT. That is NOT how you try and heal someone holy fucking hell. Guy is getting more and more broken

CHAT I AM SOBBING AND SHAKING AND CRYING AND READY TO IMMERSE MYSELF FULLY IN THE GRAVITY FALLS FANDOM RN, STILL VERY MUCH ACTIVE IN HAZBIN HOTEL BUT GOD MOTHERFUCKIN DAMMMMMMMMNNNN THIS IS SOMETHING TO UNPACK.

#gravity falls #the book of bill #rant post #fangirling #the book of bill spoilers #book of bill spoilers #spoilers #my screenshots #swearing #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #bill cipher

198 notes · View notes

kaledya · 5 months ago

Text

HOWDY!!🌟🌟 I haven't been active on Tumblr for a long time, to be honest I haven't been active on any platform until recently.

I think it would be right to make a small update and let my followers know what's on my mind.

(And a little note, I am writing this article from a translation. If there is a mistake in any sentence or if it sounds rude, I sincerely apologize.)

First of all, I would like to talk about why I am less active than before.

I don't want to go into too much detail about it, so I'll keep it short, and it'll be easier for you too!

I have a disease that worsens with stress, and I can say that this disease has leveled up because I have been stressed a lot lately due to some events.Now, for no reason or if I put too much pressure on that arm area my joints and arm start to ache. This means I can't draw for 2-3 days.In general, it means that I try not to use my arm too much.

But don't worry, thanks to my doctor I'm getting better quickly and I don't have as much ache anymore, much less! Almost gone now!!🌟🌟🌟🎉

And besides these, I was trying to get accepted to the university, but I learned that my drawing skills were not enough for the animation university!( I knew this actually, my anatomy is really bad but I wanted to try my luck) It's a little sad, but I'm not discouraged!🫡

(I think my only regret was that my arm started to hurt in the middle of the exam after I had come such a long way. Why on earth would anyone make two one and a half hour art exams back to back??) Show some mercy to the students!!)😭😭

༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

I just need to focus on more art skills and I will do that!! From now on, I will focus only on improving myself and my arts! YIPPE!!

About HH SS AU or My's OC development

It saddens me to say this, but even though I've been drawing in the HazbinHotel fandom for months, I've lost my inspiration at the moment.I probably won't be able to share any content about HazbinHotel until I regain my inspiration because I can't think of an idea or get excited about series anymore.But of course this is a temporary thing, my fandom had faded before but then it blossomed again!!

This is valid for SSAU as well, I don't have any inspiration to develop AU or draw for AU right now.

And thank you very much to my followers who have liked and supported my HazbinHotel content so far!!!

Same goes for my OCs, I'm putting my OCs like Constantine and Serenity and the archangels on the shelf for now.Of course I will use them again in the future when I get inspired about them again, I love my babies!

About SSAU inspired fanfics Thank you again for loving this AU and for being inspired to write your own fanfic!!!

It makes me really happy to see you having fun And it makes me proud to see that I inspire people!!

But from now on I don't prefer to use my HH OCs to write Fanfics,There are a few reasons for this but the main one is that I can't give you much feedback anymore and I wanted you to know that and I really don't want to upset or disappoint anyone when it comes to feedback.

Of course the fics about SSAU that have been written so far can continue, I have no problems with them, have fun!! I just want you to know I won't be able to give feedback to you, or it will take a long time

This is of course temporary, I will let you know when I return to this fandom or change my mind about this!!

Some people ask about YouTube, I don't plan on posting any content on YouTube anytime soon.

Thank you in advance for respecting my opinions!

In short, yes, these are what I was going to say. It can be said that I have switched to the Gravity Falls fandom at the moment and I am sort of making my childhood dream come true by giving fanart to this fandom.And this is something that makes me very happy.

Good morning, and in case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!

136 notes · View notes

charliedaltonswife · 9 days ago

Note

as henry’s longtime friend, he becomes irritated with your blossoming friendship with newcomer richard. it’s not until he notices the copy of sapphos on your nightstand that things boil over. he confronts you about the romantic nature of these poems, and amidst a tense argument, true feelings are revealed. for the poems were never about richard, after all…

basically a childhood friends with a secret crush moment…i can see henry being a real asshole to mask his jealousy 🤭

A Jealous Temper

Henry Winter x reader (The Secret History)

thank you nonnie, i got carried away and wrote a bit much!

Summary: read the request

Warnings: none i believe

master list found here

The first time Henry Winter spoke to you, he was six years old, standing stiffly in the corner of the garden where the other children were playing tag. His hair was slicked down, his shoes too shiny, and he looked at you like you were some curious artifact he wasn’t quite sure how to categorize.

You’d been sitting cross-legged in the grass, inspecting a row of ants marching determinedly toward a crumb of bread. When you noticed him, standing there awkwardly with his hands tucked behind his back, you tilted your head and said, “Why aren’t you playing with the others?”

He hesitated, glancing toward the chaos of shouting children. “They’re loud,” he said, his tone careful, precise. “And uncoordinated.”

You grinned, patting the patch of grass beside you. “Come sit, then. I’m watching ants.”

Henry blinked at you, as though you’d suggested something scandalous, but after a moment’s deliberation, he lowered himself primly onto the ground, folding his legs with an almost comical rigidity. He followed your gaze to the ants, his expression skeptical.

“They’re taking crumbs to their queen,” you explained, your voice filled with the kind of certainty only a child could muster.

Henry’s brows knit together. “Ants don’t have queens.”

“Yes, they do,” you said confidently, pointing at the tiny black shapes. “They work together. She’s the boss. My mom said so.”

He frowned, considering this. “Well,” he finally said, “if they do have a queen, I don’t think she’s their boss. Maybe they just… like her. Enough to work for her.”

You squinted at him, considering his words. “That’s silly. Why would they do that?”

He shrugged, his small shoulders rising and falling with a kind of gravity that seemed out of place on someone so young. “Sometimes you do things for people you like. Even if you don’t have to.”

You thought about that for a moment, then nodded solemnly. “Okay, but I still think she’s the boss.”

Henry didn’t argue further, but when he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, there was the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

“You’re strange,” you said suddenly, matter-of-factly.

“So are you,” he replied, without missing a beat.

You both sat there in silence after that, watching the ants move back and forth, and somehow, it felt like the beginning of something neither of you could quite name.

Henry Winter had always been your anchor. The quiet, calculated one, always intent on the precision of things, be it philosophy or life itself. Since childhood, he had been a constant in your world, a steady, unshakable presence that you always relied on. He was, in many ways, the center of your universe, your closest confidant.

But lately, things had started to shift, even if you hadn’t yet dared to acknowledge it.

Richard Papen had come into the picture, a newcomer, full of naive wonder and an earnest desire to belong. He wasn’t like Henry, not in the least. He was raw, emotional, brimming with questions about the world. You’d found his curiosity infectious, and somehow, it had drawn you in. You’d never expected it to happen, this budding friendship with Richard.

But Henry wasn’t blind.

It was in the way he began to avoid you in the hallways, his sharp gaze always cutting across you like a razor, a silent edge to his every movement. He wasn’t outright hostile, but there was a coldness there, an intensity you didn’t fully understand.

You awoke to the sharp, unforgiving sound of your blinds being yanked open, the cold gray light of the morning spilling into the room like an unwelcome guest.

“God, Henry,” you groaned, pulling your blanket over your head as the sound of his measured footsteps approached. “It’s Saturday. Let me sleep.”

“You’ve already wasted half the morning,” came his reply, that low, calm cadence of his voice carrying a faint hint of exasperation. You heard the faint rustle of papers being straightened, books shifted on your desk, as he went about his usual routine of tidying up your chaos.

“Some of us need rest,” you shot back, peeking out from beneath the covers. “Not all of us wake at dawn to contemplate the Iliad.”

“And yet you’re always behind,” he quipped, his tone dry but tinged with amusement. He turned then, and you caught sight of the Sappho resting on your nightstand, its faded spine a familiar sight among your ever-growing collection. He picked it up without asking, examining it with a critical eye.

“Interesting choice,” he said after a beat.

You sat up, the covers pooling around your waist, and frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His pale eyes met yours, glinting with something unreadable. “Only that it’s sentimental,” he said, turning the book over in his hands. “And I wouldn’t have pegged you as sentimental.”

You crossed your arms, already sensing where this was going. “It’s poetry, Henry. It’s not an oh so deep confession of love darling.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice deceptively mild. But there was something sharper beneath it, a needle hidden in the silk.

Before you could reply, he set the book down with a deliberate motion, the soft thud of it echoing in the quiet room. His gaze fixed on you, “what exactly is it about Sappho that’s captured your attention lately?”

You rolled your eyes, pulling yourself out of bed with an annoyed huff. “Is this some kind of interrogation?”

“Should it be?” he countered smoothly, leaning back against your desk.

“For fuck sake,” You grumbled before grabbing a sweater from the back of your chair, slipping it over your sleep-rumpled shirt. “Why do you care?”

“I’m merely curious,” he said, though the tightness in his voice suggested otherwise. “It’s not as though I’ve seen you so invested in lyric poetry before.”

You were about to respond when there was a soft knock at the door, breaking the tension. You frowned and moved to open it, only to find Richard standing there, looking sheepish as he glanced between you and Henry.

Richards' very short glance down to your bare legs didn’t go unnoticed by Henry.

“Sorry,” Richard said quickly, shifting on his feet. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just wondering if you wanted to get breakfast.”

You hesitated, glancing back at Henry, whose expression had hardened into something unreadable.

“Breakfast?” you repeated, stalling.

“I’ll be fine here,” Henry interjected smoothly, though his tone was anything but warm. “Don’t let me keep you.”

Richard looked faintly uncomfortable, clearly picking up on the tension, but you forced a smile and turned back to him. “Maybe later,” you said quickly. “I’m still waking up and I haven’t done my translation for class yet.”

God you were stupid. It was Saturday, you didn’t have any work due. You hoped Richard hadn't noticed you were lying and offended him.

“Right,” Richard said, nodding awkwardly. “No problem. I’ll see you later, then.” He gave you a quick smile before retreating down the hall.

When you closed the door and turned back to Henry, he was watching you with an expression that was far too measured, far too composed.

“Richard,” he said, his tone flat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Merely an observation.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?” you muttered, sinking back onto the edge of your bed.

“And you’re evasive,” he shot back, his voice cool. “What exactly is it about him that’s so fascinating?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Henry, can we not do this?”

“Do what?” he pressed, his voice sharper now. “I’m merely trying to understand why you’ve been so,” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening. “Distracted.”

You looked up at him, something hot and defensive flaring in your chest. “I’m not distracted,” you snapped. “And even if I were, it’s none of your business.”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the room felt impossibly small, the air thick with something unspoken. “Is that what you think?” he asked, his voice low. “That this isn’t my business?”

Henry stepped closer, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the room as the tension thickened. He picked up the copy of Sappho from the desk once again, the movement deliberate, as if it were some damning piece of evidence. His thumb brushed over the worn edge of the cover, his expression unreadable, save for the faint crease between his brows.

“You never answered my question,” he said quietly, his voice low and even. Too even. “Why this?”

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of it settle over you like a heavy blanket. “I told you. Poetry. I like it.”

“Poetry,” he repeated, his lips curling ever so slightly in something that might have been a sneer, though he caught himself before it could fully take shape. “I got this for you years ago, you’ve had this for years, and yet it’s suddenly in heavy rotation. Why now?”

Your jaw tightened, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Must there always be an ulterior motive with you?”

“With you? No,” he said, the words sharp but delivered with a deceptively calm tone. “With others perhaps. Maybe Richard.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” you snapped, rising from the bed. “Not everything is about him!”

“Isn’t it?” he countered, the question cutting through the air like a blade. His pale eyes glinted, the frustration finally breaking through his carefully cultivated veneer. “You’ve been bending over backwards to welcome him, to include him in everything, to make him comfortable. Do you know how absurd it is to watch you fawn over him?”

“Fawn? God you’re infuriating sometimes,” you repeated, your voice incredulous. “I’m being polite. He’s new, Henry. Unlike you, not everyone thrives on cold indifference!”

His jaw clenched, the muscles working as he stared at you, unblinking. “It’s more than that,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “You’ve been distant as well.”

“Maybe because I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you,” you shot back, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

His eyes widened, just a fraction, before narrowing again. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” you said, taking a step toward him, “that you can be difficult Henry. That you push people away the second they do something you don’t like. That you act like every little thing is a betrayal.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression hardening like stone. Then, slowly, he raised the book again, flipping it open to a random page. His eyes scanned the text, and when he spoke, his voice was laced with cold amusement.

“‘He is more than a hero,’” he read aloud, his tone almost mocking. “‘He is a god in my eyes, the man who is allowed to sit beside you.’” He snapped the book shut, his gaze cutting into you like a knife. “Tell me. You have this underlined. A god like Richard does not make you distant from other people?”

The question hit you like a punch to the chest, knocking the wind out of you. Your mouth opened, then closed again, no words forming.

“Nothing to say?” he pressed, stepping closer until he was just a breath away. “I wonder why.”

Your fists clenched at your sides, your heart pounding in your chest. “You don’t get to do this,” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “You don’t get to pick apart my life like it’s some academic exercise. Not when you-” You stopped yourself, biting back the rest of the sentence.

“Not when I what?” he asked, his voice deceptively soft.

“Not when you’re just as guilty,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes darkened, his expression tightening like a coil about to snap. “Guilty of what?”

“Of pretending you don’t care,” you said, your voice gaining strength. “Of acting like nothing matters to you, like you’re above it all. But you’re not, Henry. You care. You care too much, and you hate it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and damning. For a moment, the room was silent, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

Then, slowly, Henry’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers shaking ever so slightly.

The air between you was suffocating. The lamplight spilled across the room, flickering against the tight angles of Henry’s face, his eyes glinting like sharpened steel. He stood so close now, the faint scent of tobacco and cold winter air clinging to him, and you felt the pull of his presence like a magnet, impossible to resist even as anger boiled hot beneath your skin.

“You think you know me,” he said, voice low and taut as a string about to snap.

“I do,” you shot back, your words sharp enough to draw blood. “I’ve known you since you were a little boy. And that’s why I know exactly what this is about.”

“Oh, enlighten me, then,” Henry sneered, the edge in his voice like shattered glass. “Please, spare no detail.”

You stepped closer, your chest brushing his, your heartbeat hammering so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “This isn’t about Sappho. Or Richard. This is about you, Henry. About the fact that you can’t stand the idea of not being the center of the world.”

His eyes flashed, his jaw tightening as his breath hitched. “You think I’m upset that I’m not the centre of your world?” he said, but the words came out clipped, frayed at the edges, “don’t be absurd.”

“Admit it,” you pressed, your voice quieter now, trembling with something that wasn’t quite anger anymore. “Admit that you hate it. That it drives you mad to think of someone else being close to me.”

His silence was deafening. He stared at you, his gaze fierce and searching, as if trying to crack you open and read the truth written inside. And then, without warning, he moved.

His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist, the motion so sudden it made you gasp. He pulled you closer, the heat of his body overwhelming, his breath fanning across your face.

“Is that what you want me to say?” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. “That I think about it constantly? That it makes me sick to imagine someone else touching you, hearing your laugh, knowing things about you that I don’t?”

You froze, his words hitting you like a physical blow, your breath caught in your throat.

“Tell me,” he demanded, his grip on your wrist tightening ever so slightly, his eyes dark and burning.

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. Instead, you did the only thing you could think to do: you leaned in, closing the infinitesimal space between you, and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was a collision, all teeth and heat and fury. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you grabbed the front of his shirt, twisting the fabric in your fists. There was no softness in it, no tenderness; just the raw, unfiltered need that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long it felt like it might consume you both.

He kissed you like he was trying to prove a point, like he was staking a claim. And maybe he was. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, and you gasped, giving him the chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that left you dizzy.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your faces so close you could feel the warmth of his skin against yours. His hand was still tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing against your jaw in a way that was almost tender, despite the fire in his eyes.

“Say it,” he whispered, his voice rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Say what?” you managed, your own voice barely above a whisper.

“That it wasn’t about him,” he said, his gaze locking onto yours, unrelenting. “That it’s never been about him.”

“It hasn’t,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “It’s always been about you, Henry.”

Something in his expression shifted then, the anger giving way to something deeper, rawer. He exhaled sharply, his hand slipping from your hair to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

“Good,” he said simply. Then, after a pause, his voice dropped even lower, almost inaudible. “Do you remember those ants?”

“What?” you asked, your brow furrowing, though your fingers stayed clinging to the fabric of his shirt.

His lips quirked in the faintest of smiles, though his eyes still burned with that unreadable intensity. “You said they only followed their queen because she was the boss. But I told you back then, it wasn’t that. They followed her beca-”

“They wanted to. Because they cared about her.” you asked softly, your voice barely audible.

His hand slid to your neck, his thumb brushing the pulse point there. “I follow because I can’t help it,” he said. “Because I care. Because it’s you.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and before you could overthink it, you leaned in again, capturing his mouth in another kiss. This one wasn’t a collision; it was an unraveling, slow and deliberate, every touch of his lips against yours speaking the words neither of you had dared to say until now.

a/n: look at me fucking churning these requests out, hope you all like them loves!!!

70 notes · View notes

rafesapologist · 1 year ago

Text

the set up — rafe cameron; part seventeen

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst, swearing, drug use, emotional outbursts, reckless rafe, mentions of substance abuse

author's note: Y'ALL let me clear up some confusion on the last chapter!! please note that rafe and y/n are on a break (no not in a ross and rachel type of way) so i promise the plot line is not that y/n cheated don't stone me OK anyways please enjoy dont hate me i promise im not here to dissapoint u all xoxo

The cozy afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of the chateau, casting a warm glow over the living room. JJ and you found yourselves immersed in the absurd drama of a mindless reality TV show, sharing laughter and lighthearted banter.

As the ridiculous antics of the show unfolded on the screen, your legs were comfortably propped up on JJ's lap. He sat beside you on the couch, a bag of M&M's resting between the two of you. The crinkling sound of the candy bag echoed in the room as you both indulged in the colorful treats.

With each shared chuckle, you felt a sense of normalcy and comfort in the midst of recent chaos. The camaraderie between you and JJ, the simple joy of laughter, and the sweet companionship made that quiet afternoon a welcomed respite from the challenges you both faced.

During the commercial break, you turned to JJ, your eyes meeting in the dim glow of the living room. The TV cast a soft flicker across your faces as you gathered the courage to broach the subject.

"Hey, JJ," you began, "I was thinking, with everything going on and me recovering, do you mind covering my shifts at the golf course for a while?"

JJ met your gaze with a warm smile. "Sure thing, Y/N. I've always wanted to be a bev cart guy." You chuckled at his response, appreciating the lighthearted moment amidst the challenges you were facing.

JJ couldn't help but feel a warm sense of satisfaction as he watched you laugh. The dim light of the TV reflected in your eyes, accentuating the joy that danced within them. The dimples that formed on the sides of your mouth made the moment even more enchanting for him.

In that lighthearted exchange, as laughter echoed in the chateau's living room, JJ felt a growing connection with you. It was a simple moment, but the intimacy of sharing laughter brought a sense of comfort and pleasure, making it a memory he cherished.

JJ cleared his throat, realizing the shift in the atmosphere after his lighthearted joke. He tried to regain composure by placing his hand on your thigh, attempting a casual move, but the unintended tension in the air made the situation awkward.

"Yeah, um," you responded, sitting up straighter as an awkward cough escaped. The playful moment took an unexpected turn, leaving a subtle discomfort that lingered between you and JJ, "thank you for doing this for me. You've made this process a lot easier." Your gaze remained on your lap, not wanting to acknowledge the longing look in JJ's eyes.

JJ nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Of course, Y/N. Anything for you," he replied, a genuine warmth in his voice. The acknowledgment of your appreciation made the air a bit lighter, but the unspoken tension still hung in the room.

JJ got up from the couch, stretching slightly. "Well, time to hit the golf course. Gotta keep those beverage carts in check, you know?" he said with a playful grin. You nodded, appreciating the levity he brought to the situation. "I'll be back later. Take it easy, okay?" JJ added, his eyes reflecting concern for your well-being.

JJ returned, the fabric of his golf course uniform emphasizing his athletic build. He flashed a charming smile at you, his dimples deepening as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. "I'll be back before you know it. Remember, call me if you need anything," he reassured you, his words carrying a genuine warmth that lingered in the air after he left.

"Thanks Jay." You flashed him a weak smile, a subtle hum in your response.

With a soft smile and a parting "Course," JJ headed out, leaving you to relax in the comfort of the chateau. The door closed with a gentle click, and you settled into the solitude, thoughts swirling as you contemplated the recent events and the uncertain path ahead.

Meanwhile, at the golf course, Rafe was trying to find some semblance of normalcy in the routine of hitting golf balls. Topper and Kelce joined him, bantering about their day and cracking jokes as they took turns at the driving range. The rhythmic thud of the golf balls echoed in the air, providing a temporary distraction for Rafe's restless mind.

Suddenly, Topper spoke up, snapping Rafe out of his focus on his swing, "No shit. Looks like Maybank is tagging in for your girl's job today."

Rafe looked up, somewhat surprised by the mention of your name. "Yeah, apparently," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the mix of emotions swirling within him. "She's probably taking some time off or something." The casual tone of his voice masked the turmoil he felt at the thought of you needing time away, especially after the events that transpired.

Topper chuckled, nudging Rafe with his elbow. "Guess you'll be seeing a lot more of her then, huh? Playing the knight in shining armor while she's on the mend?"

Rafe tried to shrug it off, taking another swing at the golf ball. "Just covering a shift, man. No big deal."

Kelce joined in, smirking. "Sure, Rafe, just a shift. We all know how protective you get when it comes to her."

Rafe's jaw tightened, a mix of irritation and guilt coursing through him. He tried to maintain his composure, hiding the internal struggle he was facing.

"Yeah, whatever," Rafe replied with a dismissive tone, forcing a nonchalant smirk. Despite his attempts to act unfazed, the mention of you stirred a swirl of conflicting emotions within him.

As they continued hitting balls, Rafe couldn't shake off the thought of you. He wondered what you were doing, how you were feeling. The weight of guilt lingered as he tried to focus on the golf game, his mind drifting back to the events that led to your hospitalization.

Topper chuckled, glancing at Rafe. "Maybe we should call over your new replacement. What do you think, Rafe?" he teased.

Rafe's grip on the golf club tightened, his jaw clenching for a moment. He shot a glare at Topper, his attempt at maintaining composure waning. "Shut up, Topper. Just focus on your swing."

Topper smirked, nudging Rafe with his elbow. "Come on, man. Let's call over the 'new bev cart girl' and see how well he handles the job."

Rafe shot Topper a sharp look, irritation evident in his eyes. "Leave it, Topper."

Kelce, sensing the tension, chimed in, "Alright, alright, no need to get all worked up."

Topper couldn't resist pushing further, calling out to JJ in a mocking tone, "Hey, Maybank! We heard you're taking over Y/N's job today. Guess you'll be delivering drinks and flirting with the kooks too."

JJ, annoyed by the insinuation, rolled his eyes and approached the group. "Give it a rest, Topper. Just trying to cover Y/N's shifts while she's recovering."

Topper chuckled, making a snarky comment, "Recovering, huh? Must've been a wild night for you two."

JJ's jaw tensed, his eyes narrowing at Topper. "Mind your own damn business, Topper. Y/N and I are just friends."

"Friends who share a lot of secrets, I bet," Topper teased, clearly enjoying getting under JJ's skin.

JJ couldn't hold back his irritation any longer. "You know, Topper, maybe if you focused on your swing as much as you focus on everyone else's business, you'd actually improve."

Rafe chuckled at JJ's retort, finding some amusement in the banter. The tension between them remained, but for now, the golf course banter served as a distraction from the more complicated emotions lingering beneath the surface.

Kelce stepped forward, shooting a warning look at Topper. "Dude, chill. Back off a bit."

JJ chuckled, enjoying the humor of the situation. He waved off the situation, deciding it was better to walk away than engage further. As he strolled away from the group, he couldn't help but notice the lingering tension, especially from Rafe.

As JJ walked away, the golf course seemed to echo with the tension between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce. Rafe's gaze lingered on JJ's retreating figure, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. The crisp sound of golf balls hitting the grass around them served as a stark contrast to the simmering emotions among the group.

Topper wore a mischievous grin, clearly reveling in the opportunity to stir the pot. He leaned in, taunting Rafe with remarks about JJ and you, trying to get a rise out of him. Kelce, sensing the tension, urged Topper to back off, but the damage was done.

Rafe's clenched fists betrayed the storm of jealousy raging inside him. The idea of someone else taking care of you when he believed it should have been him was a bitter pill to swallow. The golf course, once a place of leisure, now became a battleground for unresolved emotions and unspoken desires.

Rafe's temper boiled over like an erupting volcano. He flung his golf club with unrestrained force, the metal clattering as it hit the ground. In that explosive moment, his frustration and jealousy manifested in that single, violent action. Without a word, he stormed off the course, his steps heavy and purposeful, leaving behind a stunned Topper and Kelce.

The intensity of his reaction lingered in the air, a palpable tension that echoed through the golf course. Rafe's car door slammed shut, a resounding punctuation mark to the scene he left behind. The once serene atmosphere of the golf course now carried the weight of unspoken emotions and the consequences of a jealousy-fueled outburst.

"Fuck!" Rafe's voice exploded in a torrent of frustration as he hurled his golf club away, the metallic clatter blending with the ambient sounds of the golf course. In a seething rage, he stormed off the course, each step a declaration of his boiling anger. Reaching his car, he slammed the door shut and unleashed another curse, pounding his fist against the steering wheel. "Damn it!"

The air in the car became thick with tension as Rafe's frustration reached its peak. His knuckles turned white as he clenched the steering wheel, the metal groaning under the force of his grip. His breaths were heavy, each exhale carrying a hint of desperation and torment. The dimly lit interior of the car bore witness to the storm raging within him, the dashboard reflecting the twisted expressions that crossed his face – a turbulent sea of regret, jealousy, and self-loathing. In that moment, the weight of his actions pressed down on him like an unbearable burden, and tears streamed down his face, marking the depth of his turmoil.

The sounds of Rafe's anguished sobs reverberated through the confined space of the car, echoing the depths of his despair. His shoulders shook with the weight of his emotions as he laid his head on the steering wheel, seeking solace in the cold touch of the metal. Each sob was a painful admission of the havoc he had wreaked on his own life, a symphony of regret and sorrow that painted the interior of the car in the hues of his torment. The glow of the dashboard served as a silent witness to the unraveling of a soul burdened by its own choices, a heartbreaking melody played out in the confined solitude of the vehicle.

As Rafe's sobs subsided, leaving an eerie stillness in the air, he wiped away the remnants of his tears and took a deep breath. The realization of the damage he had inflicted upon his own life hung heavily in the air. Gathering his composure, he straightened up in the driver's seat, his face a canvas of emotional turmoil.

Later that night, at the chateau, you found solace in the comfort of your room, immersed in the chaotic world of Jersey Shore on your screen. The dim glow of the television cast a soft ambiance, providing a temporary escape from the recent tumultuous events. The familiar banter and antics of the reality TV cast served as a momentary distraction, allowing you to detach from the complications of your own reality. The room echoed with the scripted drama of the show, a stark contrast to the unscripted chaos that had unfolded in your life.

As the characters on the screen navigated their tumultuous relationships, you found a strange comfort in their exaggerated drama, the absurdity of their situations a welcome distraction. The rhythmic crunching of Cheez-Its provided a simple, satisfying soundtrack to the unfolding chaos on the television.

Wrapped in a cozy blanket, you allowed yourself to get lost in the antics of Snooki and the gang, temporarily forgetting the complexities awaiting you outside the fictional realm. The glow of the TV bathed the room in a warm, artificial light, creating a cocoon of familiarity and routine amid the recent upheaval.

Lost in the mindless entertainment, you relished this respite from the storm that had swept through your life, if only for a brief moment. The cheery, mindless laughter from the show mingled with the occasional rustle of the snack bag, forming a soothing backdrop to your solitary night of escapism.

The sudden buzz of your phone disrupted the faux-reality unfolding on the TV screen. You retrieved the device, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Rafe's name illuminated on the display. Uncertainty and a tinge of nervousness swept over you as you contemplated answering or letting it go to voicemail.

A million thoughts raced through your mind – the recent events, the hurtful incident, and the unresolved emotions that lingered in the air. You hesitated for a moment, the allure of a potential conversation with Rafe conflicting with the fear of reopening wounds. The room, once a haven of mindless entertainment, now felt charged with anticipation.

With a deep breath, you decided to answer, your thumb sliding across the screen to accept the call. The line connected, and you braced yourself for the unknown, unsure of what awaited you on the other end of the conversation.

"Hey," you greeted Rafe, your voice carrying a mix of hesitation and confusion.

"Y/N," Rafe's voice slurred on the other end, accompanied by the faint sounds of background chaos. The shakiness in his tone hinted at a state of inebriation, leaving you with a mixture of concern and discomfort. The unexpected turn of events added another layer of uncertainty to an already complex situation.

"What's going on?" you asked cautiously, your mind trying to decipher the situation through the limited cues in his voice.

"I messed up," Rafe admitted, his words heavy with regret. The disjointed nature of his speech suggested a lack of coherence, and you couldn't help but wonder how deeply his actions had affected him.

"I fucking miss you, Y/N," Rafe confessed, his words laced with a raw emotion that transcended the haze of his intoxicated state. As the sincerity in his voice resonated through the phone, you couldn't ignore the impact his admission had on you.

There was a momentary silence, only broken by the distant sounds of the party or gathering Rafe seemed to be in. It was a stark contrast to the weight of his words, creating a surreal atmosphere.

Rafe continued, his voice softer, "I messed up, and I… I just needed to hear your voice."

You could hear the vulnerability in his tone, and it stirred conflicting emotions within you. Despite the hurt he caused, the sincerity in his words touched a chord.

"Rafe, where are you? Are you okay?" Concern laced your voice, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of worry and empathy for him.

Rafe took a moment before responding, the background noise suggesting he was in a lively and chaotic environment. "I'm at this stupid fucking party," he muttered, the disdain evident in his words. "I need you, y/n. It's killing me that I can't touch you or even see your face."

As he spoke, you couldn't ignore the tug of conflicting emotions within you. While his vulnerability struck a chord, the memories of the recent events and the pain he caused were still fresh in your mind.

"Rafe…" Your voice softened, a mixture of sympathy and caution evident as you spoke his name.

He interrupted you, the alcohol evident in his slurred speech. "Look, I-I know I fucked up. Big time. I don't know what to do." There was a rawness in his voice, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

A heavy sigh escaped you as you processed his words. Despite the hurt he caused, you couldn't completely shut off the empathy you felt for someone clearly struggling. "Rafe, maybe you should go home and sleep it off. We can talk tomorrow when you're in a better state."

Rafe's response was a defeated murmur. "I just… I miss you so damn much."

The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving you torn between compassion and self-preservation.

Reluctantly, you agreed, deciding that making sure Rafe was safe took precedence over your own discomfort. "Okay, fine. Just… send me the address of where you are."

Rafe clumsily managed to type out the address in his inebriated state. As you received the message, you couldn't help but shake your head, a mix of frustration and concern settling in. After a moment's hesitation, you texted back, "Stay put. I'll be there soon."

Turning off the TV, you quickly changed into something more presentable, preparing yourself for a night that seemed to be taking unexpected turns.

Your footsteps echoed in the quiet night as you hurriedly made your way to the car. The cool evening air did little to ease the tension that wrapped around you. As you drove to the address Rafe had sent, a myriad of thoughts raced through your mind. The uncertainty of what you were about to walk into gnawed at you, but concern for Rafe propelled you forward.

The drive seemed to stretch on longer than usual, each passing streetlight casting shadows that mirrored the anxiety building within you. You arrived at the destination, a dimly lit area that seemed to amplify the weight of the situation. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for whatever lay ahead and stepped out of the car, determined to face the tumultuous night with Rafe.

The chaotic scene unfolded before you as you navigated through the rowdy crowd of inebriated teenagers. Their laughter and cheers mingled with the distant music, creating a dissonant backdrop to your urgent calls for Rafe. You scanned the front yard, searching for any sign of him, but the chaos made it challenging to discern individual faces.

The flickering glow of party lights illuminated the scene, casting an eerie ambiance on the gathering. Despite the lively atmosphere, an unsettling tension lingered in the air. Your calls for Rafe went unanswered, drowned out by the revelry around you. Determined, you pushed through the crowd, determined to find him and ensure he was safe amidst the chaos.

Your determination carried you through the dense crowd inside the house, the pulse of the music and the chatter of partygoers reverberating through the walls. As you pushed your way towards the living room, the energy of the crowd seemed to intensify. You soon reached the epicenter of attention, discovering a swirling mass of people encircling a couch and a coffee table.

A mixture of curiosity and anxiety fueled your movements as you elbowed your way to the front of the crowd, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening. The chaotic scene unfolded before your eyes, revealing a tableau of excess and debauchery. As the sea of bodies parted, you finally saw Rafe in the midst of it all, his eyes glassy and his demeanor far from composed. The weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders, and you knew that this night held unforeseen challenges.

A mix of shock, concern, and disappointment washed over you as you observed the scene unfolding before you. The group of girls surrounding Rafe seemed to revel in the chaos, cheering him on with enthusiasm that only fueled the reckless atmosphere. The sight of Rafe snorting a line of coke, his head tilting back as he inhaled the substance, left a bitter taste in your mouth.

As the crowd continued to revel in the spectacle, you felt a growing sense of urgency. The reality of Rafe's actions hit you, and you knew you couldn't stand idly by. Determination fueled your steps as you pushed through the onlookers, your focus solely on reaching Rafe and addressing the concerning situation at hand.

"Rafe? What the fuck is this?" Your voice cut through the chaos as you confronted Rafe, the intensity of the situation reflected in your expression. The cheers and laughter around you faded into the background as you locked eyes with him, demanding an explanation for the reckless scene playing out before you.

Rafe, seemingly caught off guard, looked up from the table, his eyes meeting yours. There was a moment of hesitation in his gaze, a mix of guilt and surprise. The atmosphere in the room shifted, tension hanging thick in the air as you awaited his response.

"Y/N," Rafe mumbled, his voice laced with a mixture of regret and the effects of the substances he had just taken. He absentmindedly wiped his nose, a visible sign of his actions.

The room fell into a momentary silence, broken only by the distant sounds of the party continuing in the background. Your eyes remained fixed on him, waiting for an explanation or any sign of recognition. The gravity of the situation sank in, and a mix of emotions swirled within you—anger, disappointment, and a twinge of concern for someone you once cared about deeply.

"Rafey, who is this?" One of the inebriated girls besides Rafe chimed in, much to your dismay.

Ignoring the girl, you locked eyes with Rafe, your expression a mix of confusion and frustration. "What the hell is going on, Rafe?"

He struggled to focus, his gaze flickering between you and the party unfolding around him. "I just wanted to forget, y/n. Forget everything," he slurred, the weight of his words punctuated by the chaos of the party.

The room continued to buzz with energy as the partygoers paid little attention to the unfolding drama. The atmosphere was tense, and you felt a whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

"C'mon Rafe, we're leaving." You grabbed Rafe's arm, pulling him away from the crowd. The girls protested, but you ignored them, determined to get him out of this chaotic scene. Rafe stumbled as he followed you, his movements unsteady.

As you made your way through the crowded house, you couldn't help but feel a mix of disappointment and concern. You guided Rafe towards the door, eager to remove him from the toxic environment. The night had taken an unexpected turn, and you were left grappling with the reality of the situation.

Rafe ended up following you out to your car, stumbling as he tried to keep up with you. You opened the passenger door in an attempt to help him in, but before you could be successful with doing so, he stopped you.

"Y/N, wait," Rafe called out, his voice wavering.

You turned to look at him, your hand still on the car door, waiting for an explanation.

Rafe took a deep breath, his eyes filled with remorse. "I fucking miss you, and I hate knowing fucking JJ is the one who is taking care of you when it should be me," he admitted, his words hanging heavy in the air.

"I can't, Y/N," Rafe said, stopping you from closing the car door. His eyes were pleading, and his voice trembled with vulnerability. "I can't take care of you like he can. I messed everything up, and I don't deserve you."

You sighed, torn between frustration and concern. "Rafe, just get in the car. We can talk about this later," you urged, wanting to address the situation at hand first.

Rafe took a step back, rubbing his temples as if trying to push away a headache. "I messed up, Y/N. I messed up everything," he admitted, his voice strained. "I thought I could protect you and fix things, but I only made them worse. I can't compete with JJ. He's been there for you, taking care of you, and I… I just have to watch from afar."

You looked at him, seeing the pain in his eyes. Despite the turmoil of the situation, a part of you couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Rafe, please," you pleaded, your voice a hushed whisper, "not here. Let's get you home, and we can talk about it later."

He nodded, still looking disoriented, and you managed to guide him into the car. The girls who had gathered around seemed disappointed, but you ignored their judgmental stares. You closed the car door, and as you got behind the wheel, you couldn't shake the feeling that things had taken a turn for the worse.

As you drove Rafe home, he sat silently in the passenger seat, occasionally letting out a quiet apology. The atmosphere in the car was heavy with tension, and you couldn't shake off the worry that had settled in your chest. The Rafe you knew was put-together and conscious of his image, replaced by this version consumed by substances and self-destruction. You kept stealing glances at him, the apology in his eyes mirroring the internal turmoil within you.

You arrived at the Cameron's home, the emptiness of the house mirroring the void you felt within yourself. Assisting Rafe out of the car, you couldn't shake the worry and frustration that had taken root in your mind. The place felt desolate, echoing the emptiness of the situation between you and Rafe. You had Rafe's arm draped over your shoulder, his incoherent murmurs echoing in the silent house. Each step felt like a heavy burden, a somber atmosphere surrounding you as you helped him inside.

"Alright Rafe, you're gonna have to help me get you up the stairs," You struggled to support Rafe's weight as you reached the foot of the staircase. His movements were sluggish, and you knew you needed his cooperation to navigate the stairs safely.

"Y/n," Rafe groaned, stumbling up the stairs, "you've ruined me."

You rolled your eyes, a mixture of annoyance and concern etching your expression. Guiding him up the stairs, you replied, "You've done a pretty good job of that yourself, Rafe."

Rafe's words slurred as he leaned against the wall, struggling to maintain his balance. "N-No, it's killing me without you here," he mumbled, his eyes glazed and unfocused.

You sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation. "Rafe, let's get you to bed. We can talk about everything tomorrow when you're sober."

With effort, you managed to guide him to his room. He collapsed onto the bed, his eyes heavy with intoxication. As you turned to leave, he weakly grabbed your hand.

"Don't leave, Y/n," he pleaded, his vulnerability piercing through the haze of substances.

You hesitated, torn between sympathy and frustration. "Rafe, you need to rest. We'll talk in the morning."

"Y/n, please stay," Rafe pleaded, his eyes filled with desperation. "I can't handle being alone right now. I need you."

You sighed, torn between your concern for him and the boundaries you had set. The night had taken unexpected turns, and you found yourself grappling with the aftermath of Rafe's emotional outburst.

"I'll stay for a little while," you relented, pulling a chair closer to his bed. "But we need to talk about everything, Rafe. Tomorrow, when you're sober."

He nodded, a mix of gratitude and sadness in his eyes as you settled in to keep watch over him through the night. "Will you at least lay with me?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of the implications, but eventually, you sighed and joined Rafe on the bed. He rested his head on your stomach, and you gently ran your fingers through his hair. The room was filled with a heavy silence, interrupted only by Rafe's soft breathing.

As you lay there, you couldn't help but reflect on the events of the day. The unexpected twists and turns had left you emotionally drained. The boundaries you had carefully set seemed to blur in the face of Rafe's vulnerability.

You decided that tomorrow would bring clarity, a chance to address the issues that had surfaced. For now, you focused on providing some comfort to Rafe, hoping that the morning light would bring a clearer perspective on the tangled emotions surrounding you both.

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols, @fastlovela, @wickedlovely121, @fals3-g0d

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #rafe angst #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #rafe fic #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fic #obx 4

287 notes · View notes

mlybrnte · 5 months ago

Text

as an adult grieving her childhood everyday, i decided to watch Gravity Falls to cope and I enjoyed every episode immensely, its like a warm blanket you snuggle with growing up. but dont ask me about the last episode calling me out that i HAVE TO GROW UP because i cried like a fucking mess infront of my younger brother and almost threw up in our bathroom after realizing that i missed out on having fun as a child because i was always on survival mode. thank you, Gravity Falls for letting me enjoy my childhood one last time <3

#gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #pines family #stanley pines #stanford pines #alex hirsch #weirdmageddon

73 notes · View notes

nightingale2004 · 6 months ago

Text

Gravity falls fandom!

First off. I'm SO GLAD THE fandom has awakened once again, thanks to the Bill book. We've been gone for a VERY LONG TIME AND I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT! Also, ALEX HIRSCH!!! THE TRAGEDY!! WHEN THE FANDOM GETS YOOOOUUUU!!!!!

Secondly, we've all read that chapter where Bill saw everyone's dreams. But do you guys think Stanley knew about Dipper and Mabel's parents getting divorced?

Maybe that's why grunkle Stan took them in without question.

Maybe they told Stan and asked him to take in the twins so they could work it out and finalize everything. I'm also thinking that's why Stan was tough on Dipper and tried to toughen him up so he could be there for Mabel when Stan can't, and he could be braver when he goes home, and be a tougher big brother protecter like Stanley was for Ford growing up.

And it's also probably why Stan raised the twins the way he did. He wanted them to be kids and wanted Mabel to have a lot of good memories before reality came to them and their parents finalized their decision.

Do you guys think he told Stanford? Do you guys think grunkle Stan and Dipper have talked about Dipper's parents, and what would happen when he got home? Do you think Mabel consulted Stan about what she knew about her parents? Do you think Soos knows?

Also, I'm extremely intrigued about Wendy's mom, and I can't wait to see the fandoms theories about her.

Thirdly, I want to acknowledge some things about the Gravity Falls show. (I'm binge watching the show). In the episode where we're first introduced to Bill officially, and he goes into Stan's mind to get the code for lil Gideon, we see some of Stan's memories and the part where Dipper sees some of Stan's memories from his childhood. We see that Stan where's glasses and looked a bit like Ford, and when we get the story about the Stan brothers. Child Stanley didn't wear any

Now, here are some questions that have been going through my head.

Did Stanley start wearing glasses when he got older? Did Ford and Stanley take boxing together because of their father? Did Ford ever meet Carla? (I'm pretty sure that was Carla in Stan's memory when he punched the mugger) How did Stanley's parents react to the newspaper of Stanley's "death"?

I've got some questions, guys.

And lastly. I hope we get more Gravity falls content. THIS FANDOM WILL NEVER DIE!!!!!!

Also, guys, we need to make headcanons on what happened to Dipper, Mabel, Wendy, Pacifica, Soos, Stan and Ford, and many other characters as the years go on. I'm intrigued by what you guys are thinking and what's going on with them. I'm also intrigued if you guys have any ideas on how Bill is gonna come back.

Anyway. Enjoy the post. AND LET'S KEEP GOING STRONG GUYS. WE'VE BEEN REVIVED

88 notes · View notes

by-wronged-hands · 6 months ago

Note

Can u write a jealous aged up dipper x reader plssss he was my childhood crush

— “I’ll teach you,”

( Jealous! Aged Up! Dipper x GN Reader )

TW: None, pure fluff!

A/N: Hello! Thank you for the request. I absolutely get you, he was my childhood crush too…

Just west of weird, an old wooden home was yours. Since choosing independence, life has not truly been easy, but there is one thing you cannot deny—love found its way to your doorstep.

A scrawny boy, with sweaty palms and tangled hair. His eyes, dark like the warm coffee mug in each freezing morning. A button nose, which always seemed to stay a reddish tint. He stocked around when no one else did, and for that reason, he won over your heart.

Though, growing up, you and him would only meet during vacations. It was enough to satiate your aching, for either his idiotic sense of humour, or his incomprehensible babble about mysteries around the town. You made sure to listen, and tag along to any adventure you were invited to. Mabel was also a dear friend of yours.

Nowadays, your home seems empty. You miss his voice, his spirit. He still lives far away, and even calling once or twice every day, a hug from that man was all you could ever wish for. Thankfully, he commented on a trip he had been planning to the strange place of Gravity Falls—your hometown. Something ignited within you, and a smirk carved into your face seemed to make the boy’s day. You complemented each other, and both had been aware of this since the first summer spent alongside.

Mabel, or “number one supporter” of your relationship with his brother, decided to also come by and say hello. You were more than joyous to receive her in your home…but she knows better than to be an obvious third wheel. After wrapping her arms around you and squeezing the air out, she said farewell for that afternoon.

“It’s just us,” he exhaled, in a nervous yet impatient voice.

Apparently, Dipper was not previously informed you both were going to be left alone. He still blushed, just as he did when he was thirteen. Just as he did when you first held his hand, or took the first glance to his forehead mark. That crimson red running down his lips from his nose, across every place in his neck you adored to caress at night.

“Come on, it has been months since you last saw me. Do I not deserve a hug?” You uttered, foolishly.

“Of course I want to kiss you—!” First time, first glance at his strange feelings. An unknown face to you, yet not unsettling. Enjoying his bit of courage, your eyes quickly surveyed his body from head to toes. He shook slightly, as if you were crawling over his flesh.

The ambiance morphed thanks to the privacy. Step by step, you closed off the distance. And, with the heat of his own skin transferring to yours, your mind could not help itself. Abstinence, a complete nonsense. Though, while your bottom lip crashed with his own, curiosity struck harder.

Hands trailing down his neck, all through his chest. You pulled away, but not for long. Whispering away your words in his ear, love flooded his head. Incomprehensible blabbering tripped out from his tongue.

“I—you were—someone else,” Dipper weakly said. You could not tell there was a problem, one that had nagged him for entire nights, keeping him awake.

His hands sneaked their way to your cheeks, directing your attention over to his mouth once more. As it became apparent, his fierce emotions pierced through the veil with which he tried to hide them.

“Only kiss my lips,” his hunger steadily grew, “only me.”

Devouring every inch of softness left, warmth burned you. Your heart tried to claw its way out your ribs. His body covered you. Safer than any home. Though, as both set aside the mundane cravings, Dipper’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

“Are you alright?” At the sight of his worries, you too felt compelled to take the opportunity.

“Is there anything that bothers you?” Another question lost in the air, only to be never replied.

It followed a lasting quietud, up until he vomited once more his every thought.

“You made a post with this guy, and you were holding his hand, and his head was slightly more tilted to your side every time, and his eyes squinted noticeably more when staring at you, and—” Dipper’s mouth did not shut, even if his eyes told me he desired nothing more than to do so. Then, when his own hand was slapped over both of his lips, silence impregnated the room. His fingers trembled.

With dropping sweat, the tips of his hair became soaked. His stare ran from yours, exactly like a fugitive. You were confused, this was a straightforward confession you never expected…

“You’re jealous!” With a laughing sound, your head was now shoved into his chest. His chin rested on top of you, and while caressing his skin, you felt his warmth more intense as ever before. A deep breath was let out by him, almost like he had been holding it for far too long.

With a heavy heart, the poor man felt the floor underneath crumble. The amount of shame he felt was unbearable, impossible to explain. And while he begged the Earth to open a crack, wide enough for him to be swallowed, a pair of lips found him once more.

Like before, but the sweetness was not as feeble. Dipper could almost certainly tell honey drizzled from that mouth he was now touching so tenderly.

“I am so sorry, I know I shouldn’t be feeling this way but,” he hesitated, “there is no rational explanation.”

Disoriented by the lack of sense, it was now clear to you why he behaved in such a way. It was a thing he could not explain, or read, or investigate. Love can only be understood through experience, but of course, he did not know that.

“I’ll teach you,” your words escaped your throat without any doubts in the way, “let me.”

With a nodding head you took as a yes, every word hushed and kisses continued. Now, his hands held you close, firmly and gently.

#gravity falls #x male reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #dipper pines #mabel pines #fluff #x gn reader

109 notes · View notes