#i wanna see poppy now just to make sure hes okay

[reminem69]

dude i just had rhw worst dream

[freedomfireflies]

Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door. 

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up. 

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow. 

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?” 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?” 

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

[donutz]

Dogday “x” reader

Summary||Not romantic, at all, but you do give DogDay his legs back ^_^

Going over to the eerie hall, you see a bunch of cells.

Spooky..

I hear.. footsteps? No, not Catnap’s. It’s someone else.

Considering this absolutely terrifying place, something’s gonna pop out at me. Alright before I almost get murdered I’m gonna go to that area that I didn’t check out.

Oh. They’re fading away.

I see a room. With a big paw in the middle. Well, like a paw pillow. You think this is where Catnap sleeps? There’s little Smiling Critters. 

Cute. I just realized how adorable that is. Catnap sleepin here while little critters are above him. He’s still just a kitty.

Like 10 years ago..

Anyways I’m gonna go back.

I hear footsteps.. Again?

I go over to the last row a cells and— HOLY—

“You… You’re Poppy’s angel”.

I don’t want to exaggerate, but my mouth was WIDEE open. But I closed my mouth because that was pretty rude to do.

“Come to save us”.

I wanna do something but I’ll let him talk, not for long though, I can’t let DogDay be in anymore pain.

“Nothing left to save, not here”...

Lies, I could save you right now!!

“You’re in Catnap’s home, angel”.

Alright I’m done with you talking. I start, luckily since I used to mess with the toys, getting out my tools to start working.

Well, I find the sharpest one so I can cut the belts holding him up.

“Their home”.

“A million pairs of—”

I take one big swing at all of the belts, and fortunately they all snap! Of course I caught DogDay in time.

“I’m gonna make sure you’re okay, puppy.” I declare, not joking. Like 100%, DogDay is not dyin’ on me.

“But Angel I’ll only slow you down—”

“Lies”.

“The only thing I need to worry about is getting you safe, not you ‘slowing me down’!” I tried to sound a lot less annoyed, I’m not, at all. But I don’t want DogDay to burden himself even more.

I was also running from a bunch of small demons so yeah.

They were chasin’ me like they were tryna eat me alive!

No pun intended.

While I was speed crouchin’ through, there was little critters on the right side of me— I kicked them.

“Sorry little one!” I apologized, I didn’t feel fully bad but I still do because y’know! They’re still— a little bit like the bigger, original critters!

Barely.

Even though they kicked the smaller critters, they still apologized.. They really are an angel.

Finally making it out, I see three colored slides. I made a quick decision and decided to slide down the middle one.

Luckily that was the right one.

“Keep going angel, you’re doing good”..

DogDay is by far the best dog I’ve ever known.

I quickly switched my green hand to my purple hand and used the jump pad—

“Hold on”!

We made it on the platform and thankfully a metal door shut behind us, cutting off the smaller critters.

I pressed the button so we could go up, and waited.

“Angel, that was amazing! But why would you save me?” Wouldn’t it have been better if they left?

“Because I don’t want you to die. Plus, you didn’t slow me down. Also are you okay? Y’know, because of how much I was moving..?

“I'm alright Angel, are you”?

“I am completely fine! Physically”!

I gave him a smile, a real smile. Just so he doesn't think I'm lying.

“Plus, I'm really happy that I was able to get you outta there.”

Now, I just need to get the parts to rebuild him. I 100% do not mind doing that.

After some time, you were able to find a somewhat safe spot that was found by Poppy and Kissy.

And yes, you held DogDay the whole time. Like a little kid holding their stuffy.

You placed DogDay on the ground, he held himself up with his arms so you didn't need to worry too much.

“This might take a while, but the result will be worth it. Or not, depends on your opinion”.

“You reattaching my lower body will be worth it no matter how long it will take”.

I was a little surprised that he said that— he's still outgoing and kind after all these years…

I lifted my head and saw that he had a genuine smile— of course, I smiled back.

After— about two and a half hours I was done. My back is kinda sore but that doesn't matter.

“Okay, you wanna try sitting up”?

.

.

.

“Dog—”

There were visible stars in his eyes.

He was in awe because of my work, and gave me a hug. A really big hug.

“Thank you, Angel”...

“You've done so much for me, how could I ever repay you”...

While he was hugging you he stood up at the same time.

Omg he can walk!! I mean stand.

And Jesus he was tall, not 6’2 type stuff but he was like— 5’0! That's tall for a ‘toy’.

I hugged him back and we were there for a while.

I completely forgot he asked me something.

“Oh! Uhh, you do not need to repay me. But your way of repaying me is just being alive”.

“Promise”?

“... I promise Angel”.

[pearlescent-poppies]

I’m sick and tired of the Flower Husbands discourse. Like really truly it is just making me so upset now. They are my comfort ship. They are. My first tattoo is a poppy with the ESMP1 quote. I want to hold them in my hands and give them all of the good things in the world. When I see people calling them toxic and abusive, it really hurts me. And there’s not a tag to filter out all of it, not all of them tag “toxic flower husbands”. I get it, okay? I do. I get why you might see them like that. But if anything? If we’re going to see Flower Husbands as the most toxic duo, take a look at every other relationship Jimmy has in the Life Series (with the exception of Tango) and you’ll find the same thing. He’s the butt of the joke. He’s the canary they all poke fun of in his cage. He doesn’t care. But Scott does care. If Desert Duo never left the desert, Scott never stopped crying at Jimmy’s grave. Did you watch his series all the way through? Did you see his ideal afterlife? That Jimmy welcomed him home because that is what they had together? Did you hear the way Scott’s voice got sad talking about how quiet and weird it was not to have Jimmy with him? Have you not watched as Scott uses every single opportunity possible to bring up Flower Husbands? He misses Jimmy with every fiber of his being. Jimmy misses Scott too. Did you watch Last Life? Do you know what Martyn did to make Jimmy give him back the life? He promised a life together, Martyn says it himself! That it was all romantic promising to run away just the two of them. How Jimmy was so hopeful. So naive because this was the beginning, he’s not got all of the hope anymore. Jimmy has had to move on. Jimmy made himself move on. 30 seconds. Do you not imagine him turning away from that interaction resigned to his choice a single tear rolling down his face before he rejoins his boys in their shenanigans? Cause I do. That was a man he had devoted his life to. And yeah, maybe it was because of a joke and a silly a poppy. But do you know what a poppy means? Remembrance, dreams, death, and hope for a peaceful future. Do you know what the white daisy, blue cornflower, and red tulip meant at Jimmy’s grave? Purity, life, reanimation, hope, and true feelings. Do you think a character who conveys a message like that capable of the abuse you accuse him of? Scott’s general air of cattiness is just his character. Hard edges that once you’ve chipped away at, reveal someone who is extremely dedicated and fiercely loyal even and especially to his own detriment. Scott will make jokes about finally being free once his husband dies to the war, but I really think that’s just him preparing for the inevitable. Jimmy was going to die. Canary or not. They all were. So why not make a joke out of being lambs in a slaughterhouse. Isn’t that one of the main ways people cope? Scott loved his husband. Still does and will continue too. Jimmy is the same. But he let go. Had to. He would never have forgiven himself for dragging Scott down with him. How many times do you think that man apologised to Tango for dying first. How many times do you think that man apologised to Tango for dying first before they even lost their third life in the first place? I honestly think Scott himself sums this up best: “I don’t always put myself first and sure I’ve made plenty of mistakes and I’ve hurt people. But I’ve always done my best.”

So next time you wanna call them toxic, rewatch the series and think about this post.

[citruslullabies]

Something to tide you guys over until my break is done

Dogday headcannons: if he was your husband

Not that he can get LEGALLY married to you

Or choose out the ring he would propose to you with

But you guys had a little makeshift wedding in your backyard

You decided it'd be funny if Dogday wore the dress, which he only agreed to since he wanted to see you happy

Yeahhhhh... That white dress tore. Very quickly. Because it wasn't meant for someone of his size

Luckily it wasn't expensive, just an old white dress of yours

(man I hope it wasn't an expensive one-)

Poppy was kind of the priest, and Kissy was the flower girl

Yeah she uh... Couldn't find a whole lot of flowers so there was some poison ivy in the mix .

Very chaotic wedding day!

But Dogday is very happy to be your husband

He is a little more touchy now, but in a wholesome way

(ex. He will hold your waist in both hands while nuzzling his fat head against your neck)

Very happily refers to himself as your husband

"Oh there's some trash on the table I need to clea-" "your husband will get that for you"

He is absolutely amazed that you guys are married

He can't necessarily buy you gifts, but he does try to do stuff for you

Like cook you breakfast

Those eggs are somehow burnt on the outside and raw on the inside.....

He isn't as good at cooking as he was before the hour of joy. He kind of lost those skills after 10 years

Yes he was a good cook at one point

Shocking, I know

Maybe for you he'll try to get those skills back... Maybe

(do not trust this man with baking until you KNOW he's okay with cooking)

He absolutely adores you though

Snuggles up with you more, and is even more protective over you

Didn't even know that was possible

He is keeping his trusty weapon close.

Which by the way! Who was gonna tell me everyone was giving one to him?? I've seen axes and bricks and pipes-

I wanna jump on that band wagon!! I think it'd be really cool!

I feel like he'd use his old medallion

Sharpen the edges, and use it to slice

Or he'd have a home-crafted knife

I like to think he's very crafty due to his experience with children

But either way, sharp objects

(objects he'd keep close by at all times to make sure you and the others are safe)

You will wake up to him by your side every morning, and go to bed with him by your side every night.

He is absolutely smitten with you and will probably never leave the honeymoon phase

This doesn't mean he won't playfully bully you, vise versa too.

But you guys are in a good loving relationship

Shame that you can't live forever and neither can he.

[equallyshaw]

through thick and thin, always | mat barzal

not too sure if i wanna do gif's or pictures like that above..trying something new out (:

warnings: mental health struggles and ed talk.

word count: 2.9k+

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

trigger warning: relapse in an eating disorder, but not to graphic! talks of therapy and past shame/guilt.

della's mental health struggles had been brewing for some time, long before she ever met mat. when she met mat, her mental health improved along with her self-esteem just by the sheer fact that she was dating somebody. however, this year's fall rolled around it seemed as if everyone, every situation, and herself were against her. with having the luxury of working from home 5 days a week, she was alone a lot and in turn, had oh so much time for her thoughts to feast on her self esteem. for the first time in almost 6 years she'd had the urge to restrict. she kept reminding herself that her habit got her nowhere all those years ago, but she had that hopeful optimism that it would be different this time. a few days before christmas, sydney was hosting a holiday party for the last game before christmas and she noticed something very off with her good friend. her friend drowned herself in the alcohol that was provided and not much of the food that sat out. della felt very uncomfortable, she felt like none of her clothes fit right over her bones and curves, she felt like the odd man out seeing everybody wearing the clothes she desperately wished she could, though knew she might never be able to. she thought about how mat looked at her, and what he thought of her physically. she felt like she wasn't good enough for him, even after almost three years together.

sydney watched as the girl sipped on her wine whilst looking out at the backyard as snow fell, and felt her heart fall. she made her way over, and wrapped an a soft arm around the girl's back. "you good, dells?" sydney asked and della nodded. "ofcourse, why wouldn't i be?" she mused putting on a fake smile. "well..you've barely watched the game and i just wanted to make sure you were good. that's all." sydney said and della nodded. "yeah! sorry, been busy with work and just trying to clear my head a bit." della said, the perfect smile enchanting her pale skin. sydney nodded, "well lets go to the kitchen, the girls are snacking away right now." and della frowned. "i-i think im heading out now. i have a deadline tomorrow and i wanna make sure i have it done on time." della said as the two walked towards the kitchen. "oh, okay. no worries, please let me know when you get home." sydney said pulling her into a hug. one that della needed desperately after a 2 week road trip. "ofcourse, syd." della hummed before putting on her coat and walking outside. della quickly made her way to the car, feeling her headache grow as the alcohol was continuously hitting her empty stomach. she sighed, as she got into the car and chewed on her lip. she looked at her lap, and felt the tears finally poured over onto her cheeks. she made her way back to her townhouse a few neighborhoods over and sat in the garage that seemed like an hour.

her mind and thoughts were racing with what she did that evening, how much she drank, and spoke, how many excuses she made and white lies that were said. she thought about how sydney had looked at her, with pity? remorse? concern? della did not have much more time to think before her phone began to ring. mat's name popped up and she let it go to voicemail, most likely wondering where she was. she had said she'd be at syd's for the evening and some of the guys were stopping by there afterward.

for the first time in years, she truly hated herself. hated how she looked to herself and to others. her body dysmorphia crippling her once more. she got out of the car, and headed inside and was greeted by her corgi, 'poppy' and quickly kneeled down to be on her level. she curled up into a ball with poppy and sobbed. realizing how bad it was getting again, and it made her guilty because of how much progress she'd made. "why poppy? why does it always have to come back at the worst times?" della mumbled, as poppy laid on her chest now. her phone began to ring again and a few texts came in, but della did not budge to look. she got up, ripping her coat off feeling suffocated. she threw it on the ground towards the garage door and headed towards the kitchen to grab more alcohol. as she was pouring herself some more wine, she heard a knock on her door. she sighed, walking over towards the front door saw her neighbor and now good friend lea. "saw you pull in, hun. brought some goodies over." and once della saw the dark chocolate peppermint bark, she knew she was a goner. "come on in." della hummed, and poppy quickly greeted the redhead. "whats the most expensive wine you own, doing out?" lea questioned as she walked into the kitchen and della nodded. "cuz the world hates me as much as i hate myself." she murmured and lea frowned. "is it bad again?" she questioned her friend and della nodded, looking down as her lip quivered. "have you told mat?" lea questioned softly and della shook her had. lea quickly wrapped her arms around her friend, allowing her to cry. "if i-i tell him, he'll break up with me. nobody wants to date somebody that is sick. that's so mentally fucked u-up." della sobbed and lea shook her head. "della, that man loves you. just absolutely adores you babe. you dont need to tell him tonight but please at some point.." lea trailed off and della knew she had to. "i just need to prepare myself for the chance he does though, i have too." della said pulling back just a bit and lea nodded softly. "ofcourse babes." and della eyed the bark. but instead, grabbed the wine bottle and glass and headed towards her bedroom with lea following with another glass and poppy.

_

it was the next morning, and della had the absolute worst hungover she'd had in a long while. with no food in her system, her stomach was also in shambles. lea was sound asleep on mat's side of the bed with poppy sleeping at their feet. the wine bottle sat empty next to della's side with a half bottle of tequila wiped clean. della rubbed her temples before feeling her stomach begin to churn. she quickly headed over towards the ensemble washroom and chucked the liquid coming up. she heaved for a few seconds before laying down face first on the cool tile. she growled as her phone begin to ring once more, and as it finished it began to ring once more. "fucking mat, leave us alone." lea said as she woke up, declining the call.

mat grew nervous and a bit frustrated with the call going to voicemail once more, he'd been trying all night and now morning with no luck. sydney had said she left in a hurry to finish up some work and made it seem like she wanted to be alone. mat wouldn't bother her unless she said something to him, not wanting to get in the way of her rapid deadlines. he made his way out of his condo and drove to get some coffee and a breakfast sandwich for the girl before heading over to her place. if she wasn't going to pick up, he'd be going to her.

della walked downstairs with lea, carrying the glasses and alcohol bottles down with them. the bark lay uneaten on the counter, and della had the urge to grab the tin and stuff her mouth with as much as she could. she was fighting the urge to completely binge till her heart could content, and lea noticed. "ill keep this nice and cozy until you say something. ok?" lea said taking the tin and della sighed in content. "thanks." she mumbled, leaning over to feed poppy. "ill call you later, im gonna shower and see how far i last before i need to nap." della said hugging the redhead who nodded. "okay, let me know if you need anything. i mean it, you send the word and ill come running." she hummed and della giggled. "thanks lea." she said walking her to the front door, and as lea opened it she stopped frozen seeing the 6 foot hockey player at the door, his set of keys in his mouth as he tried to open the door. "morning barzal." lea said stepping across the threshold and past the tall dude. della did not say anything but open the door wider for him to enter. he stepped inside the warm house, pressing a kiss to her temple. and in doing so, noticed her under eye circles, her face looking gaunt and her eyes red and puffy. his eyebrows crinkled, as he set down the coffees and sandwiches on the table next to the door, concern flooding his entire body.

"della rae-" he said placing his hands softly on her pale cheeks, inspecting her from top to bottom. she'd lost weight, a good amount since the last time they had spent a substantial amount of time together; which was now almost a month ago. she shut her eyes not wanting to meet his questionable eye and worrying face. it was beginning to click for mat, and in the instant he realized, he pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug. fearing that if he let go, he'd lose her even more. she felt loose tears fall down her cheeks onto his shirt, and she let out a soft whimper. that only made him pull her in tighter. things were now clicking for him, why she was barely responding to his sister's text, why she was also not responding to his texts and phone calls like she once had. and finally, the suspicions that sydney had the previous evening, were correct. "im sorry matty." she whispered against his chest, and he pulled back just a bit to look at her. he shook his head as she looked up with fear written across her face. "im sorry im a mess...and that im sick. im so sorry." she said clenching her eyes shut whilst sniffling, with mat wiping her tears away. "never apologize della, don't apologize for this. it isn't your fault- at all. i promise you that." he said as she reopened her eyes. as guilt and hunger washed over her once more, she looked to the side and saw the coffees and then looked back at mat, "can i take those?" she mumbled and he nodded softly. "you don't ever have to ask, hun." he said as she stepped out of his arms and around him. she took the coffee and sandwich, holding them close to her chest and headed into the small living room that had a small library, fireplace, and a plush couch. mat followed suit with his and followed her into the room, sitting down next to her. but leaving just a bit of room between the two.

she stared at the sandwich bag, as she held the coffee straw near her lips wanting to fight the urge but knew she needed to eat. "i need help mat.." she said defeatedly as she stared at the bag. mat looked over with a worried look and demeanor, and took notice of the staredown she had with her coffee. he set his coffee down, and took her's as well, and placed it on the coffee table in front of them. he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. she took in the familiar warmth that he had. "im sorry I've been distant recently...i just have been so consumed with it all and because of it i've been exhausted." she said softly and mat kissed the top of her head. "i noticed something was off..when we went to thanksgiving with your family. i sensed something was off because every time i tried...tried looking at you you would look away or at the ground. it hurt me. it made me feel like you were embarrassed or guilty of something and i-i should have noticed it. and im sorry, i didn't." he said biting the inside of his cheek, trying to not cry. della's heart broke hearing how much it hurt him that she was very distant at thanksgiving. she was hoping he wouldn't notice and chalk it up to the many conversations she had found herself engrossed in.

"i love you della rae... nothing is going to change that. no matter how complicated this may get." he said feeling her tense up somewhat at his confession. she nodded into his chest, feeling him tighten his arms around her.

_

christmas, new years and valentines had rolled around with anxiety and apprehension as della progressed through therapy. after christmas, mat took the week leading up to new years off to be there for della as well as all star break + by week. della was grateful to have him in the house as she returned to work and basked in his presence before he headed back on the road. when he left, sydney and some of the other girls took turns coming over and bringing her out whenever she could. she accredited a lot to those girls, and added them to her list of why she should strive for recovery.

it was now playoffs time, and for the first time in a long while she was excited to head to a home game. when sydney had let the girls know that the jackets were being ordered, she jumped at the opportunity to get one. mat's heart was all fuzzy and warm when she showed him it right before they headed out. she did a little twirl for him and a few poses, before they shared a kiss. "oh!" he said remembering to grab what he'd been saving for some time, and as della headed out to start the car; mat ran to go get it.

the two made their way down to the arena and as she was about to drop mat at the players entrance, he paused and pulled out a letter of sorts for della. "i uh..I've been keeping this for a while not sure when to give it and whatnot, but seeing you tonight and how excited you were to put on the jacket which i know is something that you've been insecure about in the past.." he trailed off pausing to place the letter in her hands. "im so incredibly proud of how far you've come in these short few months, and i just wanted to write something down. i wasn't even going to give it to you but tonight, i just have this feeling of immense pride della rae. but uh..yeah ill see you later. ok?" he said placing a peck on her cheek. she smiled, watching him open the door and hop out. "good luck hun." she smiled widely and as mat looked at her once more, he saw the genuine smile he'd missed dearly. he nodded before shutting the door and heading towards the entrance. she pulled off into the family and friends parking lot and stared down at the letter. her heart swelled, just thinking about what the contents of the letter were.

she pulled it open softly and carefully, as to not rip the letter. she smiled softly at the handwritten note and read it slowly. words of encouragement, words of pride, and love. words of sadness and words of commitment. she sniffled as she finished it, completely taken back by it. she knew mat had felt all of these things, but seeing it in writing made her heart swell. he loved her deeply and without hesitation. she got out of the car and headed towards the private entrance and once sydney saw her walk through the box's entrance, she jumped up and down. della smiled as the others all made their way over to greet her. "picture time!" one of the girls cheered and sydney pulled her friend with her towards a spot in the back. "lookin good sista." she hummed and della smiled widely. pictures were taken, food was consumed along with alcohol and the up's and down's of playoff hockey was experienced that evening.

as soon as she saw mat walking into the box, she smiled widely before he kissed her quickly. "great game, matty." she said looking up at him and he smiled widely. a hard effort was fought, with a win now accredited towards the islanders. "lets head home." he said and the two walked hand in hand towards the car. mat opened the passenger door for her, and she thanked him before he shut the door.

she saw the letter sticking out of her purse, and she turned towards at who buckled. "thankyou for the letter mat, you have now idea how much i appreciate it." she said leaning over the console, and he met her in the middle. "through thick and thin always, my love will never falter for you della rae." he spoke softly before kissing the girl passionately. she melted into the kiss, before pulling away. "lets get home, we've got a lot to celebrate." she hummed running a soft thumb over his cheek.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

no tags just because its a sensitive topic!

[lowkeyrobin]

hi! I was wondering if you could do Ranboo with a reader who’s gender-fluid? I saw in your rules that you do gender neutral reader so it’s okay if not!

ooo yeah sure! ; idk much about being genderfluid but I tried lol ; hope you enjoy, thanks for requesting! ; this is also super short but idrk 😭

RANBOO ; genderfluid

summary ; some little things about being ranboos genderfluid s/o

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; no pronouns used for reader

word count ; 305

masterlist

you're both gender non-conforming so that's fun !!

often sharing clothes and putting on little fashion shows

sending snaps about your outfits and seeing what to wear that day

being super supportive of each other

giving each other fashion advice

you often dress each other just for fun or do little challenges on how to dress yourselves

lots of pride parades

and lots of doing each other's makeup

lots of pride stuff as well

he'll get you like a genderfluid flag, and some pins and anything with the flag colors lol

after waking up he'll ask what pronouns you wanna use that day just to make sure, especially if they fluctuate a lot

yall have the BEST pride playlist (cause you need something poppy to listen to)

like chapelle roan, conan gray, hayley kiyoko, lauren sanderson, etc

being with them feels like the soundtrack and adventure of paper towns and I'll die on this hill

midnight city by mp3, lost it to trying (ptm) by son lux, are you bored yet by wallows and clairo yk

lots of educating people on your identities and what some queer terms mean

their family gets you presents for your birthday and christmas 💔🫶

a lot of the time it's genderfluid flag colors in something like a candle, a pin, swirly sweater etc

if you make tiktoks with like transition edits of how you switch up your look, ranboos always helping lol

if you dye your hair, yk damn well he's there doing it for you

you have a little rainbow stripe in your hair now

overall you're both very happy with your identities and how much you've grown

you don't care what other people say 🙏

you're happy expressing yourselves as you are and that's all that matters

you'll get looks here and there but who cares yk

as long as you're happy

[sugar-omi]

oh my GOD SELF AWARE COVE HAS SO MANY POSSIBILITIES IM GONNA BE THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR AGES

JUST- the thought of Cove slowly realizing he’s going through a loop over and over and over and with every loop the MC starts to look and feel stranger and more far away to Cove and it’s driving him INSANE. Cove starts to keep track of these loops and notices that sometimes things get ever so slightly different or drastically different (say the players deciding to romance a different character or is doing a 100% platonic playthrough etc etc)

THE WHIPLASH COVE WOULD FEEL WHERE IN ONE LOOP THE MC IS ALL LOVEY DOVEY THEN IN THE NEXT THEYRE COLD AND INDIFFERENT TOWARDS HIM CAUSE THE MECHANIC OF COVE FEELING THE SAME WAY WOULD JUST BREAK UPON HIM BECOMING SELF AWARE

Cove having to deal with the feeling of closing his eyes as an adult only to open them and see he’s 8 years old again. What the hell just happened???? He was just at his own wedding with the love of his life and now he’s suddenly a crying child back on the poppy hill!!

AND THEN- and then Cove paying more attention to the MC as the loops go by and seeing them fade into this weird uncanny husk, they’re starting to feel more like a puppet than a person, and it terrifies him. What’s going on??? Are they okay?? Why is this happening to them????

Soon enough as he looks at the MC he finally notices and realizes that the MC “never existed”. This whole time the person he’s spent basically his entire life with never existed as someone in Coves world. No, instead they’re just a projection of someone else. Who? Coves not sure, but he feels like that whoever it is they’re the person who he’s actually been falling for over and over again.

And at that realization he come to the conclusion that he needs to meet this person beyond the veil, and he needs to meet them now.

This got kinda horror adjacent I apologize I got carried away-

NO THIS IS PERFECT

it tears him apart every time bc if you choose to romance someone else or not befriend/romance him, he can't say anything different since he doesn't have control over the system and he doesn't wanna alarm you

so he's forced to feel indifferent to you, and even in between he can't talk to you bc you're not real, the "you" that's here isn't interested in cove, and if "you" do take interest in him it's bc of the system, and everything is set in place as always

slowly he works out how to get to you, and he's leaning over you in his buff/lean, (tatted,) 6+ foot glory and teary eyed, asking why you keep playing with him, experimenting on him like this, making him watch you confess to baxter after he's loved you for 15 years. asking why you'd make that deal n choose his best friend derek over him.

well, it doesn't matter anymore. you can be together now, don't worry about his life in sunset bird, you can just build a life together just the two of you for now!!!

he actually prefers you like this compared to the game. you can say whatever you want without limits or prompting. and he can see your expression, hear your voice, actually touch you...

oh, and please don't go anywhere without him if possible or look at other men, fictional or real, with interest. he's everything you need, you've made him to fit your needs every time. you've came back to him hundreds of times in the end, so if you see smth you like on another man, cove will change his style, look, or behavior so just stop looking else were.

unless you can't, then he'll have to punish you. make you look him...

don't worry, he won't hurt you! he really could never do that, no matter how broken or.. well, twisted. he is

just wants to make sure you remember you're his, and he is yours. so if he makes you sit in his lap for hours, making you trace his face and body and features, telling him everything you love abt him inside and out, then just do it.

and if he decides to punish you in other ways, you can handle it right? you've played his 18+ dlc's multiple times, you read all those dirty stories abt him and you always kiss him n grope him when you can in the main game

he just wants to love you, and be loved by you for real. so indulge him a bit, won't you?

[solyxa]

"You wanna what?"

"I wanna do your hair."

It was a simple request, yet it had Cove blushing as he stood in a rigid state. He could barely even hold eye contact with you, in fact, he was staring at the floor now. You weren't complaining because that meant he wouldn't be able to see how flushed your face was.

As you two were so close, you thought it would be fun to style his hair. Though you'd be lying if you said the prospect of being close to him in the midst of it didn't make you wanna do it even more, even if the very thought of it made your heart race.

A few minutes of you both just staring at the ground passed before you heard him speak again.

"...Okay."

So that's how you got here, Cove sitting in the chair in your room while you stood and ran your hands through his hair. The prospect of sitting between your legs proved to be too much for him, as it seemed like he was just about ready to faint when you suggested it.

You took a brush to his strands, gently detangling any knots and styling it. Cove didn't brush his hair aside from running his fingers through it, and it showed. He had been that way since you were kids, you remember watching him mess with it on that trip your family took when you were younger. You smiled affectionately as you reminisced about that road trip. You both were thirteen and figuring yourselves out, but you had an understanding you were still doing it together. You remember how you'd called him up to the loft and he slept there with you until his parents found him. The way he flirted with you, face turning red as he complimented your eyes. You had adored him then, and you adored him now.

"Is... something wrong?" You're snapped out of your thoughts by Cove's wary voice. You finally notice that your hands have stilled, resting in his hair. He sits there twiddling his thumbs as you stall for an answer. After all, you can't exactly state the truth of how absolutely in love with him you are... Or can you?

You've loved him since you were eight, when you first laid eyes on that teary-eyed boy on the poppy hill. How could you not? He was positively endearing, especially to you. You couldn't keep silent anymore. He had to know.

"Actually, there is something I have to say." You toyed with a strand of his hair as you struggled for the right words to say. Cove waited patiently for you, only tilting his head in response as you continued playing with his hair.

"Cove, you're so amazing, and wonderful and since the first time we met, I've looked forward to seeing your face every day. I love you so much, Cove... Please be mine."

You breathe out the words in a single breath and once you finish, there's silence. No response from Cove, you're not even sure he's breathing as you slowly retract your hands from his hair. Before you can begin to panic too much, he moves.

Abruptly, he spins around in the chair, stopping when he can finally see you. He sits up, rigid with his lips pressed into a thin line as he stares up at you. Face flushed with a blush that spreads to his ears, he fidgets with the hem of his shirt as his mouth opens and closes a few times, making it clear he has something to say.

You bend down to his seated level and lean in, not wanting to miss a single word. The close proximity makes his blush turn even deeper, but he resolves to speak anyways. "I- Mm, me too." That simple confirmation would have been enough for you, but Cove had other plans.

"I feel the same way, I love you more than anything and I... I..." Deciding to let his actions do the talking, he slowly, gently brings you down to his level before leaning closer, closer until your lips touch. The kiss is gentle and loving, and when you pull away, you see tears shining in his eyes. He gives you a wobbly smile as he speaks.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that..."

"I think I've got some idea, because I've wanted to do it just as long."

You take his face in your hands, brushing his tears away as you think to yourself...

Asking to do his hair must be the best decision you've ever made.

[jonquilyst]

Day 10 - Elimination Ceremony

Screaming Llamas... Do you notice how the number of empty seats keeps growing? Sure, you and the Cowplants have been neck and neck, but... in the end, one team will vote out more contestants than the other. Make sure that isn't you, if you wanna make it to the merge.

Voting Results:

The following contestants are safe:

Camden, Lilium, and Reagan

Aster and Poppy have received the most votes out of everyone, and it was not a tie this time. The final result is under the cut:

The contestant eliminated from Total Drama Sims is...

Aster Ernst

Today's Confessional: Reagan Felix

"I voted for Poppy, but seeing Aster get out even though he did okay in the bowling really got me thinking, so here I am."

"I don't get the hype around Poppy, but... now that I think about it, it's not like she was preaching astrology and 'becoming a medium,' whatever that means. She's definitely the more sane one of the group, but she should know she needs to do better if we're gonna beat those Cowplants. The only reason she's still in the game is because she just got lucky."

@mayzie-grobe @seyvia @prismaticpotentia @simsinfinitylt @micrathene-w

[ohtobeleah]

Asking Fanboy to be your valentine. Perhaps he was taking too long to make a move and Phoenix pushes you along to make to first move.

Hyde…this is Hyde. Phoenix noticed a while ago that you’d been cleaning the same spot on the bar for the better half on five minutes while you looked over to where Mickey was standing with Logan on his hip. Taking away to Hob about something that happened earlier in the day.

“I’m sure you’ll remove the wood varnish if you keep cleaning in circles Hyde.” Phoenix takes the rag from your hand and switches it out for her empty glass. “What’s on your mind?”

“He isn’t going to ask is he?” You sigh as you work to fix Phoenix another drink.

“Who’s not gonna ask you what?” The thing at Natasha is she liked to play dumb, but in reality—she knew everyone’s dirty little secrets and who was hot on who. And she knew damn well you and Fanboy had a thing for each other.

“Mickey—I thought maybe since things had been going alright he’d ask me to be his valentine.”

“Maybe you should just ask him?” Phoenix shrugs like it isn’t the most obvious answer to your problem. “I’m sure if you asked he’d say yes.”

Little do you know, as you take a shot of liquid courage and make your away out from behind the bar that Bob was in the middle of encouraging Mickey to ask.

“It’s Hyde man, she’s so sweet in you.”

“I dunno—“ Mickey sighs reluctantly, he’d done a few things to really set your self confidence back recently and something inside him kept telling him you deserved more than he could give you. “I just feel like she could do better.”

“Maybe.” Bob Shrugs. “But she’s coming in here as we speak.” He smirks wildly and turns on his heals. “Good luck Romeo!” And to that Mickey is turning around with a dear in headlights stare.

“Hyde—fancy seeing you here.” God Fanboy wanted to kick himself so damn hard right now.

“I uh, I work here?” You awkwardly point out as you look down and smooth over your apron. “Hey listen—you don’t have to say yes or anything and I totally understand if you’re busy or just don’t want to.” You begin to ramble and Micky just knows what’s happening. Fuck—he can’t let you ask him, he has to ask you.

“Be my valentine?” He interrupts, no doubt in his mind that he wants to be yours. It catches you off guard but you smile nevertheless. “I should have asked sooner, I’m sorry, I’m still just trying to wrap my head around all this.” It’s the truther of the matter and you understand, but Mickey ignited a fire inside your chest you just couldn’t control.

“Of course.” You smile, nodding in response as you move a little closer and plant a soft kiss on his left cheek. “I’d love to.”

“That’s uh—yeah okay, great!”

“God these two make me wanna pull my eyes out of their sockets.” Jake grumbles from where he’s standing at the pool table. “Poppy, what’s your guy doing for you this Valentine’s Day?”

“I didn’t know we were on speaking terms Seresin?” Poppy just side eyes the man who almost ruined her relationship before it started.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Although I have a feeling what your answer is going to be, I still want to ask this since it seems fun XD how do you think the Toon Patrol (... Possibly even the Roo gang too if you don't mind?) would react if their S/O got them pin-up style photos of themselves? Not like, sending nudes or something, but like they went and got a professional photographer or something and got dolled up to surprise their boyfriend(s)?

I thought of Poppy and Shiny surprising their boys with a pin-up photo shoot they did, and this wouldn't leave my head XD so as you can see, this is not at all a self-indulgent ask XD

Ooooh, I love this! My Roo's are under the cut XD

Greasy Weasel: Please, you know him man XD He will keep them in his pocket (One of those wallets that opens up like a centre fold magazine- and unfolds, and unfolds, and unfolds, etc, all the way down to the floor and beyond XD ) and he will look at them whenever he gets a chance; leering darkly and grinning toothily (DEEPLY unsettling Smaftass and Psycho 😅😅). Sometimes he'll show people- like, look!! I got a beautiful womanl!! A beautiful woman took these pictures f o r me! What?? No, I did not s t e a l them!! Not this time.

Psycho Weasel: Wants to look through them all with you. He doesn't leer... its more unsettling then that XDD It's like he's trying to memorise each one- suck them into his brain through those terrifying eyeballs of his.

No one else is allowed to see them. If they did, well, oh dear it's death for you my friend-

Smartass Weasel: He keeps them in his wallet just like Greasy except when he has a look at them it's not to get off or anything- it's to remind him what he's going home to. This pretty sweetheart in his wallet here, that's what he's doing this for. *deep breath* *tucks wallet caredully in his INSIDE jacket pocket; all safe... okay boys let's do this.

Stupid Weasel: Stu is in AWE. Like, he knew you were pretty but g o s h you're beautiful!! He's so lucky! He loves the pictures, and is very thankful, but you notice?? He?? Keeps looking over at y o u instead??

He much prefers the real thing ^^ He can't help it ^^

Now, if you turned up in his r o o m dressed like that, we'd have a very! different story here XD

Wheezy Weasel: These are some nice shots, doll.

Goes through them with you tucked over his shoulder, looking through them slowly, enjoying them with a smirk. You look good, better then good, and he's grateful for the surprise; it sure is nice.

Might make a little comment, like, you still got that dress? You wanna show me in real time howya took these pics? XD

Kingston Kangaroo: He WILL show people if he gets too worked up while working (meaning- too pissed off/crazy) so be careful 😂 Like, he feels he needs to rub it in that this hot piece is all his and their pathetic ass just hasta deal with their own fucking woody. (*cut to king getting sent to the couch for this and having to deal with his own woody*)

Rena Roo: She's bummed you didn't invite her to take shots like this with you! Oh well~ There's always next time! (And trust her when she says that. Their WILL be a next time) You look real good though, babydoll.

She'll keep them just for herself ^^ <3 Tries to make you her dirty little secret.

Ryan Roo: *whistles slow at the pictures* ... damn. Now, babydoll, you know what's gonna happen.

... you fuck. That's what's gonna happen XD

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

An Orphan's Journal, Entry 10

Monitoring increased for Samuel Elliason due to unusual activity. Cat Nap’s handler reported odd behavior, no deployment of Red Smoke when interacting with the subject and seems to potentially retain full or partial memories of prior friendship. Attempts to speak despite the broken voicebox have been reported. Concern of Experiment-1188 potentially losing conditioning are expressed but unlikely.

December 18, 1990

They said Christmas is in a week, a week is seven days and Christmas is December 25, and 25 minus 7 is 18, so today is December 18. I’ve gotten a lot better with words and numbers this year, so that is really nice. Things are okay I guess. Marie has been really jumpy since Cat Nap came to meet everyone, scared of loud noises and always looking around the whole room and sitting in the back of every class. I don’t understand what she seemed scared of, but she’s still really nice to me and she does not look really bothered by it, so I guess it’s okay. She isn’t acting like Theo did so she has to be okay. Maybe it’s a part of growing up? Miss Stella said that Marie was going to turn thirteen next year. She’s a big kid now. I hope she doesn’t leave, I don’t wanna be alone again.

Cat Nap sometimes comes out at night, but I don’t think I’m supposed to know. On nights when I can’t fall asleep, sometimes I look out my window and stare at the fake moonlight in Playcare and watch how all the colors look different in the dark. It doesn’t make me feel better or feel sleepy, but I don’t feel angry when I look outside. I’ve been feeling angry a lot more, but I don’t know why. I have not told the adults, I think they forgot over time. I think it’s been a lot of months since Theo died, the doctors stopped coming to make sure I was okay after a while. I have no clue when the last time Doctor Kovach read my writing.

I got distracted. That’s a bad thing when writing, Miss Delight says so. The Miss Delight that teaches English? I forgot they are all sisters and have the same last name. I’m gonna call her ‘Miss De-write’. But Cat Nap sometimes comes out at night. It looks like he lives in the Playhouse, but I never see him during the day after the first visit so I don’t know. He’s very stretchy, if I’m awake and looking out the window long after I’m supposed to be asleep, then he leaves the Playhouse and most of the time he sees me and walks over to stretch up and rest his head on my window. We can’t open the windows, so I just put my hand on th glass and watch and listen. They said Cat Nap has a broken voice, but I think he’s trying to talk. He starts wheezing sometimes, but the wheezing changes like he’s trying to say words.

I started trying to talk again too. Only with Cat Nap. I can’t make words yet, but I’m making sound, like Cat Nap. Maybe we can learn to talk again together. Cat Nap keeps coming to me. It reminds me of every time I went to Theo before. Is Cat Nap treating me like a good friend? Family? Theo was family, he promised to try and get us adopted together. I don’t know if I want a family anymore, but I like Cat Nap. Maybe when I can talk again I can read to Cat Nap. I think he’d like that a lot.

But I’m not stupid. I know the adults like to think they know everything because they are all older than us, but they don’t. I don’t know about the other kids, but I see things I think are supposed to be kept secret. I was hungry and wanted to get a snack, so I left my room, but I saw Cat Nap go to another kid’s room and I got curious. I don’t know Paige well, but maybe if Cat Nap wanted to play I could play with them. Maybe I could make a new friend playmate. Not a friend, I don’t think I want anymore friends. But when I looked in the room, Cat Nap breathed something that looked like smoke but was bright red in his face and Paige fell back on his bed and was asleep but his face was all scrunched up. I got a smell, it was like the Poppy doll’s hair, but I felt sick and dizzy after and went back to my room. I felt really bad and I had a nightmare when I finally fell asleep that night, though it was all fuzzy and I don’t remember what it was about, just that I was scared.

I wonder if that’s why Marie has been so jumpy? I don’t wanna think about it. Cat Nap probably just wants to help us sleep, the nightmare can’t have been caused by him.

But why does he never put me to sleep, then?

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[serashalala]

Braids || Tallulah & Puffy

This ficlet is brought to you by:

@twbmccevent

Tallulah hears Puffy hum, with the younger purring when she cards her fingers through the locks of her hair, putting it into twin braids. She’d come across the other woman while on her own and wandering the main SMP despite, well, being told not to.

It’s just that she doesn’t really like being alone in that house. It isn’t even reinforced, so it doesn’t feel like it’d be safe in that place even if she does stay.

So here she is, sat on a treestump while Puffy is stood behind her. She’s not really tall, no, not compared to Wilbur who Tallulah has grown accustomed to seeing every time. Whenever he’d have to fix her hair instead of Phil, he’d always have to crouch and her pigtails would be unevenly placed and divided.  However, she is still shorter than Puffy which leads her to the dilemma of having to use a tall stool– hence the log.

“Tallulah, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way.” Tallulah hears Puffy say, and despite her saying that she’s prepared to listen to her say something she wouldn’t agree with. “But… who is Wilbur your dad?”

Tallulah doesn’t really understand how this could be taken the wrong way, she thinks. He is her dad, by technicality. Tallulah raises her hand, with a thumb raised up. 

Puffy exhales. “Oh,” She says. “That makes sense, you and him have a similar look, after all.” Puffy says, but something about it is tight.

The little girl already knows why she’s hesitant, and why she feels like she has to skirt through some sort of line– Puffy doesn’t like Wilbur with Tallulah. Not when the rumors of this man is already so extreme, and with Wilbur having no intention to dispel them. 

But that doesn’t matter, at least not now when Tallulah is feeling a certain giddiness at being told she resembles her dad– even if this one isn’t her dad. “What makes you say that?” She writes on her board. 

“Oh! The brown curls and the white streak– seems like a defining genetic trait I think. Even Fundy has white strands in his hair, albeit a bit scattered all over.” 

Tallulah gasps. “Where! I wanna see!”

Puffy laughs. “Sorry, kid, but I think this one would be hard to see when it’s so short.” She says apologetically. “But I’m going to tug at it so you know where it is, okay?” 

Tallulah nods, and the excitement has her swinging her legs. She’s got a white streak too! She wants to show it to Wilbur and maybe Phil.

Maybe then they wouldn’t be so hesitant to take her in and be convinced that there’s no pushing her away.

She feels a tug at the middle of the back of her head, and she lets out a happy sound. It’s not too far! Tallulah makes sure to remember it. 

“Why are you so happy about this?” Puffy asks, an amused tone in her voice.

Tallulah answers: “I want to look like my dad!” 

Because that’s what he is. Her dad. There’s no getting rid of her and she knows that even he is hesitant in letting her go. It’s why she’s been discouraged from leaving– he wants to protect her.

“You certainly do, kid.” And there it is, the resigned tone in Puffy’s voice. “Now come on, let’s finish this braid so I can take you to him, alright?”

Tallulah raises her board: “Can we add some poppy flowers in it? There’s so many around here!”

Puffy laughs. “Of course, Tallulah.” She says.

When Puffy finishes the braid, Tallulah’s got all sorts of flowers, not just poppies in it. There are buttercups, the smaller petals of the allium flowers, some peonies and many poppies. Tallulah was given a mirror to see it– she absolutely loves it.

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

I Never Planned On You Chapter 3: Business- Davey Jacobs x Poppy

Word Count: 3.2k

“Woah- new kids,” Casey muttered to Poppy and Tinker, staring at a tall boy dressed in a white button up, a brown vest and a blue tie as well as the small kid beside him. The older boy was obviously struggling, and a small commotion occurred between Jack, Davey and Wiesel that was inaudible to the girls from where they stood. Poppy looked the boy up and down for a moment. 

“Wonder what’s going on,” she trailed off absentmindedly before making her way to the group. The older boy flinched as Oscar threw another paper at him and Jack handed him some extra papers. 

“Aw, now what did that poor pape do to be thrown like that?” Poppy teased Oscar as she approached the distribution counter.

Davey turned red as he watched the girl with fiery hair approaching. He stared at her for a moment. Something about this girl was so entrancing, so captivating to him and he was left speechless for a moment. He felt as if his breath had been stolen away, but he soon regained it with a gasp as Jack pushed him forward. 

“It’s okay Wiesel, I'm sure it was an honest mistake on account'a Oscar can't count to twenty with his shoes on,” Jack joked. In turn the boy began to lunge at him, but was stopped by Wiesel.  

“Go on now, out of the way,” he instructed. Jack pushed Davey to move along, the duo stopping in front of the redhead.

“Good mornin’, Poppy,” Jack greeted with a smile;

“Mornin’ Jack. Getting into trouble a little early today, aren’t we?” She teased, crossing her arms over her stomach. Jack laughed at that.

“Course, you know me,” He joked back, giving Davey a slap on the back that made the poor boy almost jump out of his skin. 

“And you already dragged the new kid into it.”She nodded her head to the still unnamed boy, giving him another once over. She had to admit he was handsome- though not out loud, of course. Jack nodded and looked at the other boy. 

“David, this is Poppy, Poppy this is Davey,” he paused and looked down at the small unnamed kid from earlier, which the girl had almost forgotten about. “And Les.” The boy, Davey, squeezed his eyes shut for a moment in shock, then raised his eyebrows as he opened them again. 

“Um- hi,” he said nervously, holding out a hand for her. 

“Hi,” Poppy returned amusedly as she shook his hand. “Never seen a girl before or do you act this way around all of ‘em to be charming?” Davey turned an even brighter shade of red, his eyes widening in embarrassment. 

“Sorry-” His apology was cut off by Les, who stepped in between them. 

“He’s always this bad, sweetheart,” he interjected confidently. The girl’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as she looked down at the younger boy. 

“Good to know,” she joked before sticking her hand out to him. “Les, right?” He nodded and took her hand, pressing a kiss to it. Davey smacked the back of his head and let out a small huff. 

“C’mon, we have work to do” he instructed, grabbing Les’ hand.

“Some people don’t know a thing or two about manners,” Poppy joked to Les. “How old are you, kid?” 

“I’m ten!” He answered enthusiastically, causing Davey to stop and stare at him bemusedly, before pausing and looking off to the side. “Almost.” 

“If anybody asks, you’re seven,” she advised. “Younger sells better. And, if you’re needing a sellin’ partner….” 

“Who said we wanna partner?” Davey cut in with an incredulous look on his face.

“I did,” she shrugged. “You two obviously don’t know the first thing on how to sell a good pape - no offense there, Davey - and, not to brag, but I just happen to be the best seller in Manhattan aside from Jack.” Shot him a cute sort’ve cheesy smile at him. Davey attempted to step to the side. 

“If you’re the best, what do you need with me?” He asked

“You got a little brother and I don’t,” she shrugged, wrapping an arm around Les’ shoulders and squishing his face with her other hand.“You see this face? It could sell a thousand papes a week.” The older boy still didn’t seem convinced, so she looked down at Les. 

“Do your best sad face,” she instructed, waiting for him to do so before smiling wildly. “We’re gonna make millions. But, my two bits come off the top, then we’ll split everything 70/30.” Les pulled away from her and crossed his arms. 

“50/50. You wouldn’t try to pull a fast one on a little kid,” he said, glaring up at her.

“You drive a hard bargain, kid,” she hummed thoughtfully. “60/40, that’s my final offer.” Les glanced at his brother, who merely offered him a small shrug. Satisfied with that, he turned back to her and stuck out his hand with a smile. 

“Deal!”

“Wonderful doin’ business with ya,” she spat in her hand and held it out for the young boy. Les giggled and copied her before shaking her hand. Davey made a disgusted face at them. 

“That’s disgusting.”

“That’s business, dear Davey,” Poppy shrugged, wrapping her arm around Les’ shoulders as the older began to walk away. 

“Don’t worry about him, he needs to learn to relax is what my mom says,” Les said, looking up at the girl. 

“Maybe your mom’s onto something,” she joked, pulling him along to follow Davey. “So where ya thinking of sellin’, Dave?” The boy shrugged. 

“I don’t know- somewhere crowded?”

“Smart boy,” she nodded approvingly. “But, just make sure you’re not sellin’ in someone else’s spot. Newsies are pretty territorial and they don’t appreciate when someone nabs their spot.” Davey’s brows furrowed and he turned to her as they walked.  

“Isn’t it unfair to claim a spot?” He asked. 

“He’s an amateur,” Les said, looking up at the girl as if he knew anything. She grinned and patted Les’ shoulder approvingly before looking at Davey again.

“Not to us. Selling’s our only source of income. You mess with that, they’re not gonna like it. I’ve seen people be taught a lesson like that more times than I can count.” The boy shrugged. 

“Okay, where do you suggest we go?” Poppy hummed thoughtfully, taking a moment to look around. 

“Library. People pass by it the most, if you don’t get any buyers then you’re just bad at sellin’,” she half joked. The answer seemed to satiate him because he nodded and began leading them towards the library. 

“You know how to sell a pape?” She asked as she followed. 

“It can’t be too hard, can it?” He questioned. Poppy raised her eyebrows, almost amusedly and tried not to smile.

“Give it a try,” she implored, leaning against the railing of the library steps. He shot her a look before pulling one of the papers out of his bags and holding it up to display the headline. 

“Extra! Trolley strike enters third week! Read it here! Trolley strike drags into the third week!” He called out, trying to stop people who just walked right past him. Poppy watched him attempt to work for a full (painful) minute before grabbing his arm and pulling him out of people’s way.

“See how that didn’t work? It’s because your headline ain’t exciting enough. Sometimes you gotta stretch the truth to sell,” she explained, pulling out a newspaper for herself and holding it up. “Extra! Extra! Terrified flight from burnin' inferno! You heard the story right here!” Immediately someone stopped to buy the paper from her before continuing on. Upon turning back to Davey, she was met with a furrowed brow on the boy’s face. 

“You just made that up,” he pointed out.

“No I didn’t,” she responded simply. “I said he heard it right here, which he did.”

“My father taught us not to lie,” he said in a huff. 

“Yeah well mine taught me not to starve,” she retorted flatly. “You wanna make money, you gotta make the headline interesting. No one cares about the trolley strike, they care about disasters.” With that, she moved behind him and gave him a nudge forward to continue selling. 

“So you guys are territorial liars, anything else I need to know?” He asked, glancing back at her. 

“Hey, if you don’t wanna work with me, just say the word and I’ll walk,” she held her hands up defensively before crossing her arms. “I just wanted to help you two.” Davey sighed softly as he sold another paper (this time using Poppy’s tactic), then turned to face her again.

“I’m sorry- this is different is all,” He muttered, which allowed her shoulders to relax.

“I get it, it’s difficult on everyone’s first day. I just don’t wanna see either of you get hurt,” she responded. “Some newsies are mean and territorial, but there are some nice ones who actually want others to succeed. To do that, you need to understand how our world works, you know?” He nodded and opened his mouth to respond, but paused when Les ran up to them. 

“Hey! I just sold my last paper!”

“Nice job little man,” Poppy laughed enthusiastically, ruffling his hair. “You’re a natural!” Davey watched the interaction with a small smile before catching himself. He cleared his throat and held up his last paper.

“I have one more.”

“Give it here,” he snatched the paper from his brother, then ran up to a lady, making puppy eyes at her and coughing. “Buy a pape from a poor orphan boy?” The lady gasped, clutching a hand to her chest before answering. 

“Oh you dear thing, of course I’ll take a newspaper! Here’s a dime,” she said, handing Les a dime and walking off to which Les stares at the dime with an awed expression. 

“Born to the breed,” Poppy concluded with an approving grin.

“Man, this is so much better than school!” The young boy exclaimed excitedly. Davey rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. 

“Don't even think about it. When Pop goes back to work, we go back to school.” Poppy watched the interaction in silence before jumping in. 

“So, how about we divvy up the money, grab some chow, then find you somewheres safe to spend the night?” She offered. Davey collected their money and began dividing it. 

“We gotta get home, our folks will be waitin’ dinner,” he explained as he handed her share over. The girl raised her eyebrows a bit in surprise and (dare I say it) envy. 

“You got folks, huh?” She asked softly, earning a confused look from Les. 

“Doesn’t everyone?” He asked, and Davey elbowed him, hard. He sighed as he looked down at Poppy.

“Our dad tangled with a delivery truck on the job. Messed his leg up bad, so they laid him off. That's how come we had to find work,” he said in what was possibly the softest voice she’d heard from him thus far. A sympathetic smile formed on the girl’s face as she nodded. 

“Yeah, makes sense. Sorry to hear about your dad.” The boy hummed thoughtfully, glancing at Les for a moment before looking at her again. 

“Why don't you come home with us for dinner? Our folks would be happy to have you,” he offered. 

“Well, I don’t wanna be a bother…” she responded hesitantly, admittedly surprised by the invitation. 

“No, please, I insist,” Davey said quickly, a small smile adorning his face. She felt a tug on her arm, and upon looking down she realized it was Les.  

“Mom’s a great cook!” He added. She hesitated for another moment before ultimately nodding with a small smile.

“Oh, alright,” she acquiesced. “Thank you.” Both Les and Davey looked happy with her answer, the younger boy even going as far as cheering. With that settled Davey began to lead the way to their house.

“Gosh my parents will love you,” he commented. 

“Really now?” Poppy asked amusedly as she followed alongside him, wrapping an arm around Les’ shoulders again.“What makes you say that?” 

“You’re pretty, that’s why,” Les cut in. She glanced at Davey out of the corner of her eye, quickly noticing the blush on the boy’s face as he looked down. That, in turn, brought a blush to her own cheeks as she laughed softly. 

“Well aren’t you a sweetheart?” She cooed amusedly. “You’re gonna be a real lady killer someday.” That made the young boy grin as they reached the steps of the Jacobs household. Davey opened the front door for them. 

“A real lady killer, they drop like flies,” he joked in the process. Poppy snorted, unable to help herself, and covered her mouth with her free hand. 

“So rude to your brother,” she reprimanded jokingly as she stepped inside. The boy merely shrugged with a grin as he set his bag down and took off his cap.  

“We’re home!” He called.

“So soon?” A woman’s voice called back, and not a few seconds later Mary, Davey’s mother, peered around the entryway to the kitchen, wiping her hands off on her apron. “David, your fathe-” She paused and smiled brightly when her eyes landed on Poppy. 

“Oh, well hello,” she greeted, wiping off her hands more thoroughly as she walked out so she might shake her hand, “And who might you be?” The redhead smiled somewhat nervously and took off her cap. It felt odd to be inside an actual cozy looking home, talking to such a kind looking adult. 

“Oh, I’m Poppy, your sons invited me to dinner if that’s alright with you, ma’am,” she explained. Mary sighed lovingly, walking over to her and offering her hand. 

“Poppy, such a pleasure to meet you. I’m Mary. I’m sure you helped my sweet boys out today, they were so nervous,” she tuts, causing Davey to blush in embarrassment. The sight made Poppy giggle as she shook the woman’s hand.  

“It’s nice to meet you ma’am, and yes I did help them. They’re fast learners,” she answered. 

“Gosh you are pretty, darling,” she said, looking her over as she held one of Poppy’s hands in both of hers, giving Davey a hopeful look. She and his father Michael had been waiting for him to bring a girl home for so long. With his shyness they were beginning to grow afraid that he would never meet someone. Davey, meanwhile, had never been a deeper shade of red as he cleared his throat. 

“Um, she’ll be staying for dinner,” he repeated Poppy’s earlier words in an attempt to change the subject. Mary smiled and squeezed the younger girl’s hand reassuringly. 

“Well, make yourself at home, dinner will be ready in just a moment.” 

“Thank you ma’am,” Poppy muttered, still a bit flustered by the compliment, squeezing her hand back. Mary pulled away to make her way back to the kitchen. 

“Les, honey, wash your hands, you look filthy,” she called back, earning a groan from the young boy as he trudged to the kitchen. Once they were out of sight Davey sighed softly. 

“Sorry about her,” he laughed out. The girl merely shook her head with a small smile. 

“No, it’s fine. She’s so sweet. Are all mothers like that?” Davey shrugged. 

“A lot of them. Mine is particularly worried. She always worries about how I look, my grades, where I am, who’s around me,” he listed off. “But I’m very lucky for her. She’s a wonderful woman.” Poppy hummed thoughtfully and nodded. 

“You’re one lucky kid, Davey,” she agreed softly, which made him look at her.

“You’re always welcome here if you ever need a meal or a place to sleep,” he offered.

“I don’t think your folks would appreciate you inviting some random girl to their house at random,” she half joked. “They don’t even know me.” The boy merely shook his head.

“Trust me, they wouldn’t mind,” he retorted. Before the girl could respond Mary poked her head out of the kitchen doorway.

“Dinner time, you two.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Poppy said with a smile, glancing back at Davey before following her into the kitchen. “Is there anything I can help set out?” Mary shook her head quickly. 

“No! No. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll make you a plate. You’re a guest,” she insisted. Upon looking back at Davey again, she realized he was giving her a look that said ‘I told you so.’ She scrunched up her nose at him before hesitantly taking a seat at the table as Michael walked in on his crutches. He paused upon seeing Poppy and looked at her confusedly. Mary seemed to know what he was thinking because she spoke before he could question the girl. 

“Micheal, dear, this is Poppy! Davey made a new friend.” While Davey buried his head into his hands in embarrassment, Les’ brows furrowed. 

“Hey! She was my friend first!”

“Really now?” Michael asked amusedly as he limped over to the table, sitting down at the head of it. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Poppy. Any friend of Davey’s is a friend of ours.” The girl in question blushed shyly and smiled politely at him. 

“You as well sir,” she answered coyly as Mary set plates in front of everyone.

“So, Poppy, how long have you been selling newspapers? I’m sure my boys are learning from the best of the best,” she teased lightly, ruffling Davey's hair as she walked past him.

“I’ve been selling since I was around ten,” she answered dutifully, though her eyes were admittedly on the plate in front of her, eyes somewhat wide in surprise by the amount on her plate. She couldn’t remember the last time eaten a full course meal. Mary was quick to notice that because she giggled. 

“You look starving, dear, eat!” She encouraged. Poppy tried not to blush in embarrassment as she began to eat, trying to not just scarf it down. 

“Do they not feed you at home?” Michael asked amusedly.

“No sir,” Poppy shook her head. “Newsies have to pay for any food themselves, which isn’t a lot usually. We usually get some bread from the church though.” It wasn’t until Mary set a hand over her heart that she realized Michael had been joking.  

“Oh- you poor thing. You are always welcome here for food, a bath or anything you need,” she offered in a maternal tone. 

“That’s not necessary, Mrs. Jacobs,” she said quickly, then laughed a little. “I made that sound bad, but I’m used to it. I’ve been doin’ it since I was ten.” 

“Really, we mean it, you’re always welcome,” she insisted. She glanced at Davey out of the coroner of her eye and noticed him smiling at her, almost as if in agreement. That’s what made her finally nod, a small smile playing on her own lips. 

“Well thank you. I appreciate it.” And so Poppy ended up staying for several hours at the Jacobs house. After dinner they’d all moved to the living room and just talked until Les finally grew tired and fell asleep there on the couch. That was when Poppy decided it was time to head home. So, after wishing the family goodnight, she headed to the lodging home with a full stomach and a smile on her face. She had a good feeling about this family.

[sugar-omi]

my younger cousin had this project where their class had to host a mini "press conference" of sorts in their classroom and gather insights about love and marriage from any married couple they choose to invite and it's funny imagining if something like that happened to mc and gang down the line, especially when if it's their kid inviting them, their own parents 😭

mc + cove & mc + derek are a given, and the class ends up fawning over them from how damn tooth-rottingly sweet they are

while i'm not sure baxter would agree to share his story with mc, i can see him getting bullied (affectionate) by the kids once it's over KGJDKFJ

(for some reason I thought u were talking abt like. how they got together ok n I realized like half way in so shhhh but also lemme cook ok)

omg baxter would try to like. keep it more light bc no need to explain your whirlwind romance to a group of 13 year olds or smth right

so he tells it like you broke up after dating for a summer and you showed up one day to help his clients plan their wedding and he had to act normal bc he figured you prbly didn't wanna deal w him again but the couple were like "so, are you in love w mc?" and you still ended up together bc he's such a simp for you even when you're mad at him....

everyone calls him a simp but they also fawn n die laughing bc that'd so funny?!??! I love Jude for asking baxter that, he is such a king n I love him Scott you gotta share a bit more of him bc he's so !!!!! I need me a Scott n Jude in my life yk that omfg

now cove and mc.... omg everyone is so over it yall are SICK

your kid tells you to keep it short n sweet bc we get it you're childhood friends n crushes MOVE ON 😾👎👎👎 (they're tired of ur love, confirmed)

but pls cove going on abt how he just does things for you bc he loves you??? like when you were teens n he wanted to make you happy (happiness moment) and you took him to the poppy field

and same w derek, him talking abt supporting each other n stuff. like you opening the door for him, making him relax while you set up the game, or helping w chores. and you tell him it's okay, that you just want him...

BUT IMAGINE HAVING TO EXPLAIN HOW YOU GOT TOGETHER

your kid/s w cove would have enough to write 4 novels and counting... like stfu and tell me who confessed to who bc we're getting NOWHERE

or even better tell them who proposed to who. if it was you and you did it the next day after you started dating they'd be on the edge of their seat n start screaming bc YOU REALLY DID THAT!!!! YOU GO MC THATS THEIR PARENT!!!!!

now derek... they'd turn to him n go "dad you're dumb" especially if you've been dropping hints since forever like why are buff men the DENSEST OMFG

but they'd also cry bc he shouldn't feel like that?!?,! their dad is so awesome?!?!;@:! they cry n hug him n tell him they will always need him n stuff :,)