#ooooh its been a minute
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usermoon · 1 year ago
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just so you know, you'll never know some secrets were meant to be told but i found the cure to growing older
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waywardsalt · 6 months ago
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While Ganondorf is busy as king of the Gerudo and Linebeck is often out at sea, they hardly manage to find time to spend together- but with the right timing and allowances, find time for a bit of desert exploration.
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ganonbeck fic complete!!
here's a new link to chapter 1, and chapter 2 is finally up as well.
FanFiction.net version: X
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herebecritters · 1 year ago
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Hey guys seasonal allergies kicking in my butt atm and I’m high off allergy meds and my sinuses are on fire hooray!
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os2warp · 2 years ago
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ooooh i should really sharpen my pencil before i get started. that should kill a minute or two.
pov you just came back from recess and ur still feeling that high. you sit down and the first thing you see is this
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autism-corner · 2 months ago
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im doing it for them. ig.
#oooh the current lecturer is in the same church managment thingyy as my dadd#which is fine and good and all but. it reminds me of church.#as a kid we went almost every week. i think untill i was at LEAST 10. which is fine.#it was a normal day and i got to see my grandma and great aunt/uncles. being with them on sundays was fun. i did not care for church.#at some point. i got too old for the kiddy club. which is fine. i could sit out an entire church meeting just fine#except my parents didnt think that was enough.#they made me. not older than 12. join like 5 other ADULTS. to talk about the bible and shit.#understandebly. i did not survive.#luckily my dad was waiting for me at my grandmas and could pick me up.#i think i held out for maybe 10 minutes.#and. its so strange looking back.#i am actually tearing up just thinking about how much destress i must have been in.#sillyposting#i know. they probably didnt know what to expect either.#but. little undiagnosed autistic me knew what a bad idea it was. and im glad i got at least proved right.#and i am glad that. my parents didnt make me go again.#they werent FORCEFULL on it to begin with i think. but if your caregiver wants you to do something you cant easily. say no.#anyway im. at least glad neither of my brothers had to do the same.#but it sucks being a scapegoat. thats how it feels at least.#anyway. church =w=bb#idk theres not much more to say about it.#the last memory i have was the funeral of my grandpa.#it was actually the middle of summer so we were all sweating balls.#and i still cant progress grief 'correctly' i think so. pretty uneventfull actually.#much better than my first funeral =w=bb#ok wait. lets not go there..#ooooh something about your parents being gone for a week makes your brain want to relive all your trauma. erm.#i feel like i have to say this every time but theyre fine parents. theyre not abusive.#just undiagnozed illnesses from my side and clashing probably-identical illness from theirs. :)#ok wait lets also not go into mental illness. they also did not handle theirs well imo.
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fishfission-dc · 1 year ago
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Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 10: Alfred)
<<Part 9: Barbara 
[Masterlist]
Alfred: Actually, I have prepared something I would like you all to see.
Bruce: Oh lord...
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[collective sigh]
Alfred: I have noticed that many of you are electing not to return used dishes to their proper location to be washed. 
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Barbara: Oooh... that one’s on me, sorry Alfred.
Alfred: Miss Gordon, I trust you not to spill anything on the computer console, but I still think it best not to have open beverages in the presence of... other company.
Dick: Is he talking about-
Tim: Yeah he’s talking about us.
Bruce: Hn.
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Steph: Only Bruce does this, Alfred, I promise.
Alfred: I am well aware, Miss Brown. 
Bruce: ...sorry.
Duke: How do you not spill anything using mugs in the Batmobile?
Cass: (signing) Impressive.
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Jason: Okay, this one has to be Dick.
Dick: ...That’s probably me.
Tim: A teacup? A teacup and its saucer??
Dick: I was already drinking it at the time-
Alfred: Just bring it back next time.
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Steph: HA
Damian: ...They like the-
Alfred: I highly doubt the dogs have a preference of plates.
Damian: ...understood.
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Jason: WHICH ONE OF YOU-
Tim: STEPH. STEPH THAT IS YOUR BELT.
Steph: I CAN EXPLAIN
Barbara: Steph why is a mug in your-
Steph: I BRING THE MUGS HOME AND I PUT THEM IN MY BELT TO REMEMBER TO BRING THEM BACK TO ALFRED BUT THEN I FORGET
Duke: How many mugs are in your belt right now? 
Steph: ...
Dick: Steph.
Steph: A couple...
Alfred: Three. I checked twenty minutes ago.
Steph: ...Sorry Alfred.
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Tim: ...Okay-
Dick: Tim. How on Earth-
Steph: HOW IS THIS ANY WORSE THAN ME KEEPING MUGS IN MY BELT
Tim: Sometimes I save time by eating in the shower!
Jason: That is like... a family sized tupperware container.
Damian: Drake, this is no longer efficiency, it is insanity. 
Tim: ...Sorry Alfred.
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Bruce: ...how-
Barbara: Cass... Cass this has to be you.
Cass: (signing) ...Sorry.
Steph: Honestly I’m not surprised by this.
Duke: Are we not concerned that Alfred’s been repeatedly climbing into the rafters to collect these dishes?
Alfred: Oh it’s not the furthest length I’ve gone for you all...
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Bruce: I may have left a serving dish at the Kents’ apartment in Metropolis, I apologize.
Tim: I don’t think I left anything in San Francisco... or Nanda Parbat.
Dick: TAMARAN?! I’m probably responsible for New York and Bludhaven, but that one was NOT me.
Jason: Ooooh, yeah... uh... that was probably me...
Steph: You left a tupperware container on Tamaran?!
Jason: And maybe... other places... I keep forgetting to bring them home.
Damian: How many of these locations are you responsible for, Todd?
Jason: Uh... definitely Star City and Tamaran... and Miami... Paris... and Washington, Hong Kong... maybe also Nanda Parbat. Oh, and I definitely left a cup in San Francisco...
Barbara: Oh my god.
Jason: ...Sorry Alf. Won’t happen again.
Alfred: I’m glad you appreciate the leftovers, Master Jason, but yes, please return the dishware.
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Duke: Oh that’s definitely my bad... Sorry Alfred.
Alfred: It’s alright, my dear boy, you didn’t know.
Bruce: ...how long has that been the system?
Dick: Probably not long... I definitely didn’t do that as a kid...
Jason: Definitely changed while I was dead...
Alfred: That has been the system for 42 years, I would appreciate if all of you started adhering to it.
[a chorus of “Sorry, Alfred” as they retrieve their dishes, thus ending Powerpoint Night. The end.]
<<Part 9: Barbara
[Masterlist]
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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago
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fly on the wall * fem!driver
she crashes in her third race of her f1 career, but she's more concerned about its repercussions than the concussion
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, lewis hamilton x fem!reader
warnings: crashing the car
notes: ooooh my god i had to rewrite this 5 times because it wasn't up to my liking initially, and then tumblr was having some issues saving my shit so i lost it?? it's very sad fr
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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"are you alright?" sebastian's voice comes onto the radio.
his eyes are trained on the big screen, cameras focused on the car parked into the wall out of a turn. he couldn't get an answer out of his driver so he had to resort to the third party.
if his assumptions are correct, she would have hit her head on her seat hard at impact. but things like that can lead to so many bigger things that he might not even be prepared for. 
her vision slowly returns, blacking out for a mere second as the car went into the barriers of the baku track.
she had issues with her brakes for a few laps. sebastian had suggested retiring the car if she didn't feel safe, but she pressed on. the issue didn't seem so serious and it seemed manageable.
at first. 
it's a driver error - missing the early braking point to accommodate her already tweaking brakes. she missed it by a millisecond, clipped the wall and got sent straight into the wall.
she sighs, pressing the button on her steering wheel. "i'm okay," she answers shakily, tears now filling her eyes.
"okay, that's the important part. don't think about anything else. i'll see you in the medical centre." sebastian is quick to shut her thoughts down, clearly prioritising her wellbeing and not the car.
"i'm sorry," she sighs, voice shaking and lips quivering. “i’m so sorry, seb.”
this is only her third race in f1, how could she have already crashed out? on a race where she was so close to that podium. it would have been such a monumental moment — a woman on the podium. 
with 20 laps left in the race and her in 5th place, it wasn’t all that far out of reach at the time. yet, here she is causing a yellow flag as she starts to notice the smoke surrounding her. 
"like i said. don't think about anything else."
she sighs to herself as a marshal appears above her halo, greeting her with a soft smile. she nods, letting herself get helped out of her car.
but only one thought eats away at her: she crashed on her third race. what's everyone going to say about her now?
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“let me talk,” sebastian sighs, hands up in the air as he tries to calm the girl sitting on the examination bed. he’s barely able to get a word in.
she’s slouched against the wall, purple balaclava in her hands as she traces the thread that holds it together at the hem. the minute he walked in, she looked up immediately with tears in her eyes and a string of apologies.
it hasn’t stopped since he poked his head through the door, cutting him off before he could even ask if she’s okay. 
“do you not see the problem?” she shrieks, eyebrows furrowing at sebastian. “i just crashed out! imagine what the media has to say about my performance today? they’re just going to use this as a reason to justify that i shouldn’t be on the track!”
sebastian drops his hands to his side, deciding that he’d just let her get it all off her chest. it might make her feel better. 
though, it doesn’t make him feel good that she’s continually talking down on herself. he vouched for her for weeks for a reason, and it’s because he believes in her. more than she does in herself, it seems. 
“i didn’t work my ass off my whole life just to be undermined because i’m a woman!” she tosses the balaclava aside, now picking at the loose skin by her fingernails. “i didn’t get this far for everyone to count me out because of one crash! can you fucking believe that shit? it’s a fucking rookie mistake, seb! i’ve been racing for years!”
she drops her hands by her side and groans again, rolling her eyes. “i’ve earned my rightful spot to be where i am! they are not going to care about that!”
sebastian shrugs slightly, overlooked by the infuriated woman across him. he can barely get a breath in before she continues, shutting his mouth immediately as she continues her rampage. 
“imagine the headlines tomorrow! a driver is as good as their last race — i know that! don’t try to sugarcoat it. you know i’m right!” she rambles on, eyes darting all over the room. she’s pushed herself off the wall slightly, clearly flustered over the course of events. 
she avoids sebastian’s eyes, the fear of fully breaking down in front of him prominent. crying over a crash seemed like such a silly thing to do, but there’s no denying how demanding the sport truly is. 
in her short three races in the season and people’s neverending criticism of her abilities, it makes her lie awake at night rethinking her position on the grid. 
following her crash, sebastian hadn’t expected for her to ramble on for this long. he initially thought that the crash would have sent her into a shocking silence, so while her anger is warranted, it was definitely not on his list of things to be ready for. 
“imagine what they have to say about me!” she throws her hands in the air, scratching her head gently. “imagine what they’ll say about you! it’s not going to be good, trust me! i’m a woman in a fucking racing car in a male-dominated sport!”
“hey!” sebastian’s voice bounces in the room, making her lift her head with her eyes narrowed into a glare. 
the sudden movement reminds her of her restrictions, hands coming up to nurse the back of her neck. she feels a sharp pain shoot through her head all the way down to her shoulders. “what?” she hisses, quickly looking down to hide the pain. 
“you literally just crashed head-first into a wall at 250 kilometres per hour! you’re lucky all you got was a concussion and whiplash! it could’ve been worse!”
“if i was lucky, i’d have been able to recover and get on the podium as we discussed! i was already 5th!”
“and you didn’t! that’s okay! you learn from things like these!”
“no, it’s not! i’m already hated as it is!”
“it’s part of the sport! fernando alonso has crashed, lewis has, and so have max and charles! every other big name in formula 1 has had their fair share! you’ll be okay!”
she finally meets sebastian’s eyes, slouching even more as she audibly sighs. he watches her body deflate, leaning back dejectedly. “it’s still different.”
she’s still in her fireproofs. her race suit had to be taken off during her short time with the doctor, hanging on the back of the plastic chair in the small medical room. her helmet sits next to her, underneath the balaclava she’d thrown on top of it. 
her hair is in a loose ponytail with stray hairs poking out and resting on her face. the adrenaline has yet to leave her body, chest heaving as if it’d just been over and beads of sweat still scattered all over her.
“i know it’s different. but everyone else who says whatever isn’t the person behind the wheel, you have to remember that,” he says in a soothing tone, finally coming up to stand next to her. he sighs, putting a hand on top of her head. “and i know it sucks.”
she shakes her head. “no, you don’t. we’re different; our problems are different.”
“the way they used to hate me, and things they say about you are different, yes,” sebastian nods in a low voice, his thumb now tracing circles on her head. “but you still can prove them wrong. you just started driving in formula 1 — you’ll have way more chances to shut them all up.”
“i could’ve already. if i just controlled the car a little better.”
“it’s okay.” he slides himself onto the examination bed, sitting next to her. he intertwines his fingers and rests his hands on his thigh. “everybody crashes at one point in their career.
“let the media say what they want, but not all that criticise you have been in a race before. nobody on that grid thinks you’re lesser than you are just because of what happened today.”
“you don’t know that.”
sebastian just shakes his head, refusing to elaborate any further. he leans back into the wall as well. “oscar is on the way with some snacks for you.”
crashing out during a race is never easy. years before he decided to retire, tapping and crashing out of a race has always been demoralising. it always feels like the first time when he does.
“i don’t need snacks. i need to go back to 4 hours ago when i was still on track for a podium finish in the first half of my rookie season.”
“with your talent, i can assure you that this will not be your only opportunity in formula 1. i will make sure of it, of course. wherever i go, you go.”
the door creaks open, cutting her off before she can throw an answer back as sebastian. “i’ve got your favourite snacks. i also stole a couple of twix bars from your backpack, i hope you don’t mind.”
“well, why’d you take them and still tell me about it knowing i wouldn’t even have given it to you in the first place?” she reaches for the nearest object next to her, yanking it towards oscar by the door. 
“because it was calling my name,” he shrugs, pushing the door fully open to reveal who he’s strung along to the medical centre. 
“i took a packet of haribo,” logan shrugs as he steps in. he flinches when she clenches her fist, scrambling to pull something out of his paper bag. “but i got you a can of sprite to make up for it! don’t be mad!”
her gaze softens when she notices lewis hamilton standing behind her friends, a paper bag hanging on his fingers as he grins at her. 
“how are you, sweetie?” his voice is empathetic and low, giving her a look that she’d seen from everyone she’s passed on her way here. 
she sees lewis and sebastian exchange glances, almost making her roll her eyes again. 
she doesn’t talk to lewis that often, but he has addressed her before when she would trail behind sebastian on the track. she would often greet him softly as she hid behind her mentor, or simply excuse herself when she sees either oscar or logan passing by. 
he’s a role model and the last thing she ever wanted to do was be too overbearing. to see him come to her aid is only a dream come true. 
“i hope you don’t beat yourself up because of that. you drove a brilliant race today,” he smiles. “everybody crashes out. don’t even care what others have to say about you. you did well.”
lewis understands being cast out as a minority. he will never understand the struggles and pressure put on her, but he can at least relate to a certain extent. “don’t even sweat it. you’re now one of the world’s greatest in a fast race car. you’d smoke anybody who would dare challenge you.”
oscar tilts his head. “why would someone random just challenge her out on the street?”
“oscar, shut up,” logan shoves the australian slightly, landing a warning smack on his shoulder after. “let her have her moment.”
lewis laughs but does wave oscar off as he returns his attention to her. “what they say will string, but trust me, this is not the end of the world. i know it feels like it.”
she nods to herself. “okay, hand me the snacks so i can eat away all my pain. i deserve it.”
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock
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seattlesellie · 2 years ago
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ellie x plushies obsessed reader hq’s
or
ellie beefing with plushies for 40 minutes straight
or
ellie fucks u with a plushie <3
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♡ first of all, dont get it wrong. ellie buys you the actual plushies she has this ongoing beef with. she straight up walks around town, probably dealing or some shit, and then she just sees a plushie that is so you from the window of a kids store, and she staright up runs to get it. jesses all like “where the f-….” and one second later, he sees her standing in line, holding a pink squishmallow ready to pull out her credit card. “sorry” she mouthes to him. “for my girl”
♡ as much as ellie loves to see your face light up when she comes home with a limited edition sanrio plushie, she loves trolling you even more. shed literally see a demonic looking plushie and get it for you, only to see how upset you get over it. shit makes her laugh so hard. shes all giggling like “wh- babe its pretty!! look at its eyes its like he sees through you- s’romantic actually”, she speaks, trying to hold her laughter. youre standing there, simply baffled, just staring at her. “ellie. that is a spongebob plushie and it looks deranged- and why is he missing a shoe?!” you question. she just huffs and says “i dont know” with a guilty look on her face. when you deadpan her she just says “i wanted to see what its feet look like” ¿¿¿ you shove her and she gets all offended and says “pfft… you dont get it” you tell her that monstrosity is not welcomed in your home and she ends up. sleeping with it. every night. ellie sleeps with a spongebob plushie (i hc ellie as being a spongebob lover btw i know shed be quoting him like hes kafka)
♡ one night, you walk to your room, the door is like half closed and you just keep hearing sounds of huffing and muffled breaths. you take a peak, and you literally see ellie flipping off and mouthing “fuck you” to all of your little plushies. youre standing there with this shocked expression, baffled to see your girlfriend pretending to punch the plushies and whispering at them to fuck off. you walk in, and ellie turns to look at you and she looks so guilty, like joel just caught her eating cookies at 3am. “ellie. what are you doing?” you question. she huffs, rolls her her eyes, “they were looking at me weird”
♡ youre naked together, cuddled up after getting your pussy destroyed, and ellie takes out two plushies from behind her. “this is you” she points at the pink ribboned plushie, “and this is me” she points at the black squishmallow. she takes both of them in her hands, bumps them together, and begins demonstrating her wonderful show. the black squishmallow is humping the pink one from the back. ellie pants heavily. “els.” you say, warning her. she gives you a sly look. “mmmhm ellie” she moans. “fuckkk ellie- so so good” youre so shocked, you cover your eyes under the blanket before you even think to grab them off her hands. “taking it so good” she says with a darth-vader like voice. “fuck me harder please” she mocks in a high pitched voice and starts moaning like a porn star. your cheeks are so hot you cant even move. “gonna cum- ellie lemme cum” shes screaming now, youre pretty sure your neighbors can hear. you start kicking her beneath the blanket, and that only makes it worse “ellieeeeee get me pregnant” she yells and moans louder and louder. youre basically assaulting her legs now, pushing her away, which leads her to finish her wonderful spectacle with a “best ive ever had ellie. best ive ever had” youre screaming and yelling at her for sexually harassing your dolls and shes laughing like a maniac, literal tears fall from her eyes. “ooooh-“ she wipes a tear. “that was so fucking funny” she speaks, holding her stomach wheezing. “not funny” you deadpan. “too funny. ahh- shouldve been a comedian” she says. she shouldnt.
♡ shes buried deep inside, your leg resting on her shoulder, tears falling from your eyes from how good, how intensely shes fucking you. a white creamy circle starts forming on her strap. “you crying?” she teases, squeezing your cheeks together forcefully. “mhm-mhm ellie” you whine, cunt flooded with pleasure, and pain, because its so big, and shes so fast. “cry some more” she commands, panting over you. “taking me so so good… my good girl” she coos, lost in the feeling of the harness bumping her clit, and her girl coming undone beneath her. “cant take it… too much!” you plead. shes circling your clit, so slow, just to torture you some more. her hand stops squeezing your tit, and theres a little surprise shes holding on to. “take it” she commands, and places the plushie on your chest, staring directly into your eyes. “hug it for me. gonna make it easier, fuck” she rambles, feeling her own orgasm coming closer and closer. “el- so- so” you cry out, mumbling incoherently and squeezing the doll so tight its eyes almost pop. “jesus christ- cute, so fucking- cute” she pants. her breathing gets heavier and heavier and shes pushing the strap inside even deeper, squeezing out your arousal. “god damn” she growls.
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rootspiral · 25 days ago
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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 7 part 1
(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])
(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2])
ah yes, episode 7, a notoriously low stakes one that people are not emotionally invested in whatsoever. a mere 9.1 on IMDB, nothing to write home about.
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we start with lilia dying, because life and death are a never ending cycle. and also because the people who made this show are evil
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she's like a teardrop. good fucking shot.
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meanwhile billy is marching on, puffing his chest, all stone faced. agatha is pretending to be a nice little guy, to make friends.
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she's really TRYING, okay?
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rio's busy reaping alice's soul, but we don't reveal that until later. and LMAO agatha being all like, I'm gonna be OPEN and HONEST and a good ment- except for that I donwannatalkabouthat
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agatha after she babysits a little boy once, scares him shitless and tries to kill his mom: we CLEARLY had a connection there
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that poor little dash in the subtitles. fighting for its life to convey the chasm of time she leaves between ex and best friend
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LET'S HEAR IT FOR REBECCA WHO RAISED THIS BOY FOR FAR LONGER THAN WANDA OR AGATHA EVER DID
but the unfortunate fact is, wanda still is his mother. or rather, she's the witch who thoughtlessly created him and left a big scar in her wake. he has to deal with all that.
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marvel's powers that be: wanda maximoff is definitely dead-dead
jac schaeffer and co. every chance they get: she sure is!!! *big fat kathryn hahn wink at the camera*
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if they ever do a 'marvel most iconic line' poll we as a fandom are voting for this one. just to be clear.
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I saw some reactors going ooooh it's ho***rts. HOW DARE YOU SIR. that's the wicked witch castle. billy maximoff would never.
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I've been asking myself WHY agatha simply doesn't tell billy about the nature of the Road, not even now that everything else is out in the open. the only answer I can come up with is that the Road is real and it's here and deadly, it's not in any way an illusion. and since the Road is linked to billy's emotional state, we dont' want him to go ballistic one he realizes he's been killing witches. agatha has decided she can only soldier through at this point and get herself and billy's home, they can talk about the implications later. yes, she's really scared of what billy can do.
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I've also been trying to figure out the moon phases:
Full moon - water phase, blue, Jen.
Waning moon - fire phase, red, Alice.
Blood moon or lunar eclipse (still a full moon): spirit phase, purple, Agatha
Waxing moon: air phase, yellow, Lilia
New moon: earth phase, green, Rio
so we get full moon, waning, full moon again, waxing, new moon. they're completely out of order??
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this whole trial is the equivalent of billy calling lilia a slur. no fr it's billy repeatedly beating lilia over the head with a stick and going, reCLAIM IT RECLAIM THE DAMN SLUR YOU WITCH
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i find kathryn hahn as the wicked witch of the west alarmingly hot and i don't know what that says about me
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billy is like, i effin KNEW I'd look this good. oh god, the Road was just an excuse to cosplay as maleficent all along
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i love how these two find themselves alone for five minutes and immediately proceed to BUTCHER a trial. i'm overusing tumblr lingo these days and all, but I still gotta say it: there is one single braincell in this whole coven and lilia has it. it's like leaving two children in charge
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a cursory google search tells me the two sphinxes represent light and darkness, you need to learn how to control both for the chariot to move forward
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she always is!! sort of. kind of. mostly.
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agatha, who's about as spiritual as a q-tip: how hard caN THIS BE
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I can totally see her as a con artist counting cards in vegas
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somehow I cannot picture evanora homeschooling her. or sending her to school at all, for that matter. you know this bitch is self-taught.
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someone with more time than me should totally check if there's any rhyme or reason to the cards these two buffoons drew
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I'm gonna end this entry with lilia's eyes again so it's another nice circle. a fun little ouroboros!
damn patti has such big doe eyes
go to episode 7 part 2
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moonstruckme · 1 year ago
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OOOOH Can i hop on the dr!rem train?!?! I would love to see how he is with someone who just doesn’t really take care of themselves. Like if something’s hurting they just power through. But of course he’s a dr so he’d know 🤔🤔💕💕💕💕
Ofc you can! This is precisely what I need him for haha. Also, when I wrote this my foot was still really hurting and now it feels tons better, so I think writing for him is healing me! Thanks for requesting my love <3
Doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Remus looks up from his laptop when you hold a bowl of pasta up in front of him enticingly. “Aw, thanks, sweetheart,” he says, taking it from you. He’s been so caught up in his paperwork he hadn’t even heard you bustling around in the kitchen, but you’d been thoughtful enough to bring him his dinner on the couch rather than call him to the table. “You’re too good to me. I’ll be finished here in a minute.” 
“It’s no problem,” you say with a smile. “Oh, I forgot I made you tea, too. Just a second.” 
You go back towards the kitchen, and Remus thinks to go back to his laptop for the interval of your absence, but something about the way you’re moving catches his attention. You’re walking oddly, shifting an almost imperceptible amount of your weight to one side. It’s not quite a limp, but there’s a stiffness there. 
You disappear into the kitchen for half a second, and Remus watches you carefully when you return. Your strides are as quick as if nothing were amiss, but there’s definitely something bothering you. It doesn’t look like the problem is in your foot, or your knee, but maybe your hip…
You pass him the tea, and Remus takes it quickly, chiding you for holding the hot part to pass him the handle. You roll your eyes as you sit, constantly discounting what you consider to be your boyfriend’s overcaution. You never worry about yourself, Remus thinks. Everything that happens to you is secondary, of little concern compared to whatever’s going on with everyone else. You don’t watch out for yourself, and you don’t always welcome others doing it for you either. It makes being someone who loves you an occasionally worrying task. 
“How was your day, dovey?” Remus asks, shutting his laptop to enjoy the meal you’ve prepared for him. “I’ve been so focussed on work I’ve barely talked to you since I got home. How are you doing?” 
Your smile is tinged with bemusement, but they’re not such odd questions as to draw much suspicion. “Don’t worry about it, I know it’s important stuff. I’m good, honey, how are you?”
“I’m good too,” he says, twirling pasta around his fork and inhaling the steamy aroma of the herbs you’ve mixed in. “Fantastic, now.” You blush, looking down at your own bowl. “Do much walking around today?” 
Now your brows furrow, and you bring your fork to your mouth, chewing pensively. “Some,” you answer after a while. “Why do you ask?”
“I just noticed you’re walking a bit funny,” he says as casually as he can, knowing too much attention will only lead to you belittling more than you’re already inclined. “Is there something bothering you, love?”
“Oh, yeah,” you say, looking back to your bowl as though forking your pasta suddenly requires your undivided attention. “Think I twinged something in my leg earlier. It’s not bad, it’s just one of those things, you know? I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll be fine.” 
It takes a heap of willpower to keep Remus from rolling his eyes. That’s your go-to reaction anytime something’s bothering you: power through and hope it goes away on its own. As someone who knows better, it nettles him incessantly. “Why didn’t you say something earlier? I might be able to help.” 
“Because it’s not a big deal,” you say through a mouthful. “Anyway, you were busy.” 
“Never too busy for you,” he hums, setting down his plate to lean closer to you, and fine, he’s pandering. If making light of this is what’s going to get you to let him help, that’s what he’ll do. “Let me have a look?” he asks you sweetly.
You look at him, sucking a stray noodle into your mouth. “What, now?” 
“Sure,” he says, already moving to perch on the coffee table across from you. “Just to make sure that it’s fine and I don’t need to run to the drug store before it closes or anything.”
You sigh like you’re doing him a big favor. “Okay, but it’s really not bad. You don’t need to worry.” 
He hums noncommittally. “Straighten your leg out for me?” You do, and he takes your foot in his hand. “What part hurts, dove?” 
“Kinda, like—” You strain to lift one hip off the couch, touching the back of your thigh, “—like, all down here, ish.” 
Remus cocks his head. “Does it hurt when you flex your foot?” 
“A little,” you reply, nonchalant. 
He nods, standing. “Okay, I think I get the picture,” he says. “Lay down for me, please?”
You give him a deadpan look. “Rem, I’m just trying to eat.” 
“It’ll only take a second.” 
With an eye-roll that you make sure he sees, you set your plate down next to his on the coffee table, laying on your back. Remus sits by your feet, lifting one of your calves so he can see the back of your thigh. He runs a knuckle over the skin there, noticing it’s a bit more swollen than your other leg. “Here?” he asks you.
“Yeah.” 
Remus laughs silently at the sudden tight quality to your voice, thinking he knows the cause. He takes a detour to test his theory, migrating his touch further down until his knuckle skims the crease of your buttcheek. 
“Careful,” you murmur, tone slightly teasing. 
Remus tries and fails to suppress his grin as he forces himself back on task. “It looks like it’s your hamstring,” he says. “It’s a bit more swollen, but in a lot of cases there’ll be bruising too, and I don’t see any of that. Do you remember when you hurt it?” 
“Mhm.”
Remus decides not to question you further on that for now; he’ll lecture you on telling him these things more quickly later. “Did you hear any sort of popping noise?”
“No,” you say, sounding unsure. “I think I would’ve noticed, right?”
“You would have,” Remus reassures you, relieved. “It’s probably just a pulled muscle, then. I’m going to test it really quickly to be sure, okay?”
“Okay,” you say warily, and Remus has you flex your foot, taking your leg in both hands as he straightens it and lifts it upward. You hiss, and he stops. 
“That hurts?” 
“Yeah.” Your voice is tight again, now for the wrong reasons, and Remus lowers your leg carefully. 
“Alright, sorry.” He kisses your knee. “Well, at least it shouldn’t take too long to heal. I’ll get you an ice pack when we’re done eating, and I want you to elevate it and take ibuprofen.” 
You sit up, clearly ready for your boyfriend’s mollycoddling to be over as you grab for your bowl. “Already am,” you say with a smile that Remus supposes is meant to be reassuring. Instead, he frowns.
“Sweetheart.” He gives you an admonishing look. “You were taking painkillers for this and you weren’t going to tell me about it?” 
“Don’t be mad at me,” you say lightly. “I made you pasta.” 
Now it’s Remus who’s sighing laboriously, pressing a reluctant kiss to the side of your head. “I suppose that does make up for everything, doesn’t it?”
801 notes · View notes
shhhsecretsideblog · 4 months ago
Note
Your prompt request #13 "not here... not now..."
In the midst of a battle between two kingdoms, you go into labor. While the city breaks into chaos, you try to escape while trying to deny the birth.
Female character can either deliver the child deep in the woods while on the run or hiding in the rubble, trying to keep quiet as she births her child.
You choose! And thank you for choosing to make an account for your wonderful work! Obsessed with your first fic! 🫶
Not Now… Not Here…
[This was one of the first asks/prompts I received and made me so happy to have created this side blog. Thank you so much Anon for your request and your kind words at the end. Hope you enjoy! 💜 Fpreg 2917 words & Beta’d by the wonderful @gravid-transluna ]
Marion stood by the open window in her bedroom, hands braced against the window sill, as she watched the billows of smoke and the sounds of screaming get closer and closer to home. Tensions had been building between Alleria and its neighbouring kingdom for many years and it had only been a matter of time before one of the Kings ordered their troops to attack. The battle had been raging for days… weeks now, with news from the frontlines making it back to the city as the wounded returned. Unfortunately for the residents in Alleria the battleground was moving ever closer towards the city, and for Marion this was even more unfortunate for she was currently deep in the throes of labour.
She gripped the wooden ledge below her window and bounced her knees and hips through the latest contraction.
“Mnnnnhhhhh… oh little one, you have a terrible sense of ti— ohhhhhh… timing.” Marion moaned softly, her hips swaying instinctively as the tightening coursed across her middle while the weight of the baby’s head filled her pelvis.
When the contraction had faded back into a dull ache Marion looked up again at the city slowly falling to the destruction of war. The smoke seemed closer than it had an hour ago, the battleground was heading right across the city in the direction of her home. The pains had started yesterday but were manageable back then - she could continue moving around and getting everything prepared for the birth. The war was far from the city at that point and it did not occur to Marion that she would not be safe to labour and birth here - Alleria had never allowed their borders to be penetrated before, but the invading Kingdom’s forces were too strong.
Marion held the underside of her heavy and tight belly, her thin olive green dress stretched around her enlarged middle. She had never given birth before but had helped in many a delivery around the town. It was a rite of passage for a woman to deliver her children - the men-folk would almost never be present while the labouring mother would be supported by female friends, family or neighbours.
Marion didn’t have any of those but she wasn’t phased to be doing this alone - she preferred things that way. However, as she looked down through her window at the empty and deserted street below, fear and panic began to claw at her thoughts. Perhaps she should flee the city as well. A loud scream and sound of metal against metal echoed through the streets. The battle was getting closer, she needed to leave. Now.
Grabbing a canvas bag Marion quickly threw some items inside; blanket, clothes, water, food. As she was frantically waddling around her small rented room another contraction hit out of nowhere only minutes after the last.
“Hoooooooo— oh fuck….” Marion doubled over and braced her thighs as the pressure and pain skyrocketed. Her pelvis was being pulled apart as the baby’s head shoved its way through, almost certainly at the top of her cervix by now. The immeasurable weight and pressure was overwhelming and Marion found herself grunting against it.
“Mnnghhhh!!!” Marion growled, but the sound was swallowed by a loud explosion coming from a few streets away.
“Ooooh… so— so low. Don’t come now baby, just a— a little bit longer.” She pleaded to her rounded belly, holding it with both hands as she straightened back up. Grabbing her bag of supplies Marion bolted for the door to the stairs at the back of the building. She had to get out of here, get herself far away from the incoming battleground before she delivered this babe.
The stairs were awkward and difficult to descend with her dangerously wide gait from an extremely low baby. But Marion eventually made it down to street level and looked around; there was no one left - everyone had already fled. She waddled as fast as she could in the opposite direction from the rising cries of battle, her hands holding up her taut and tensing belly as if her grip alone could stop her labour. Marion was too busy worrying about safe routes out of the city to realise the next contraction was fast approaching and when it struck she found herself dropping into a deep squat in the middle of the cobbled street.
“Grrrrrrrhhhhh….! Oh Gods… So— so much pressure!” She groaned, her bag of supplies slipping from her shoulder as she squatted and grabbed her knees. Instinctively she mooed and growled her way through the latest wave, each one seeming to strike with more ferocity than the last. Marion would be self-conscious making such a public display of her labouring but with the streets deserted she allowed herself to make whatever noises she needed to get her through the pain of childbirth.
Eventually it passed, but the delay in her movements meant the sounds of battle were only a stone's throw away. The harsh sounds of doors and windows smashing echoed off the buildings and Marion thought she could hear incoming heavy footsteps. If the owners of the heavy stomps were just of Allerian troops then she would be okay but, if they were of the invading forces there was no telling what they would do with a woman wandering alone on the streets. The clinking of swords colliding got louder. Both troops were getting closer. Marion could not get caught in the crossfire - she’d be as good as dead.
She ran, as fast as her wide legs could carry her, away from the brutal fighting. She barely made it round the corner down a narrow side street when she was forced to stop once more. Slumped against the brick wall, Marion curled around her hard belly and trembled as she struggled to stay upright. The heavy boulder of a baby’s head was right there, filling her birth canal with so much pressure she thought she might explode. There was no stopping the primal grunt that rattled her throat as every muscle seemed to contract and squeeze the baby towards its exit.
“Nnghhhhh!!!” She roared against the pain and it was immediately followed by a gush of warm liquid running down her thighs and splashing the beige cobbles underfoot. At the tail end of the contraction she felt it - deep in her genes an instinct was telling her to start pushing.
“No….” She whimpered. “Not now… not here… hoohoo-hoohoo…” Marion panted erratically, fighting against her body’s advancing labour.
When the contraction somewhat eased the mother-to-be staggered bowlegged down the deserted side street, the large head shoving its way through her cervix. She made it through to the next street over but Marion had no clue where she was going, no planned destination she was trying to reach. Instead she was just desperately waddling as far away as she could from the noise of battle. She thought she had more time to find an alternate place to give birth but the increasing weight and pressure between her legs was soon proving her wrong. Out in the open of this new street she doubled over against a shop window - palms flat on the glass, her hips jutting backwards and her heavy belly hanging towards the floor.
“Ohhhhhh… no, don’t push… don’t— mnghhh don’t p-p-push…” she chanted over and over, panting and sweating and shaking while the baby inside sank lower and lower.
Running and shouting and screaming could be heard from the end of the street. Marion, still caught in the midst of a powerful contraction, glanced down the road towards the sound and saw at least a dozen men rounding the corner. Their metal plated armour, the colours of their tunics, their pale faces - none of it was familiar. These were enemy soldiers. The labouring mother slipped around a corner to hide down another side street, her legs stuck so wide it looked like she was about to drop the kid any second. And it felt that way too. With one hand holding onto the wall, the other disappeared under her dress between her thighs. No baby yet, thankfully, but she was starting to bulge into her underwear.
Deep and gruff shouting echoed from the high street, the invading warriors were jeering and smashing everything in their path. Despite the continuing contraction, Marion shuffled a little further into the alleyway, into the shadows and tried to hide behind some broken wooden crates. The soldiers were shouting in a language she didn’t understand, but the tone of their rough voices were clear - they were winning this war.
One… three… seven… Marion looked through the gap in the crates counting the foreign soldiers as they stomped past the entrance to the narrow side street, the burly and primitive men kicking and smashing and destroying every single thing they passed.
The next contraction ramped up before the last had even faded away and Marion slapped a hand over her mouth to stop any sounds escaping. Her baby was insistent, desperate to be born. The pressure screamed at her to push and her stance instinctively widened, but as she moved her foot she kicked something hard and metal sending it tumbling across the cobbles with a clang.
Her heart stopped, her breathing seized. Marion’s eyes flared with panic and looked nervously through the gap in the wooden crates towards the entrance of the side street. There was no way that sound wasn’t noticeable, a second later Marion’s fears were realised when two strange looking men stood at the archway of the dark sidestreet, staring into the shadows looking for the source of the noise.
Push!
Marion stayed perfectly still, her hand squeezed over her mouth, her nose breathing as silently as humanly possible. She could not let them find her, Gods only knew what they would do to her, especially if they had conquered Alleria.
Push!
The contraction still tore across her body, her belly contorted into a solid, hard ball beneath her dress as it tried to deliver the child. The pressure between her thighs was making her eyes water, the weight was pulling everything downwards, and her vagina was starting to burn. And yet Marion remained still, not moving an inch.
Push!
The men were talking to themselves, grumbling incoherently in their foreign tongue, pointing and staring down the narrowed cobbled strip. Marion’s legs were trembling, her knees sinking, and as she held her breath in fear of discovery she realised too late that her body was pushing. Without instruction or permission the baby was shoved down the birth canal, feeling like it was seconds away from falling into her underwear. But she couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop herself from bearing down. Behind her sweaty palm Marion’s mouth opened in a silent scream as she pushed and immediately could feel her labia starting to part beneath her clothing.
Oh fuck! Marion thought, trying to stop the impossible. Please don’t come out now!
She fought against her instincts for the longest minute of her life, desperately trying not to push and trying to stay silent. Eventually the strange men lost interest, deciding nothing was hiding down this side street, and continued to ransack the surrounding shops with their fellow soldiers. Marion slumped back against the wall when the soldier's departure coincided with the slight easing of the contraction. With heavy breaths quieter than a whisper, she tried to regain a normal rhythm in her lungs.
This baby could not be born now, here, it had to hold on for her to get somewhere safe. Away from the carnage of war and away from her foes. Then there was a sudden bang, a moving wall of heat, and a victorious cheer coming from the adjacent street - the enemy had started burning buildings causing a giant explosion.
Debris flew through the air, shards of brick and building raining from the skies and Marion spun around, curling around her bump, to protect herself and the baby. She staggered, bowlegged, deeper down the dark alleyway to try to get away from the destruction but with the contractions almost on top of each other she barely made four unsteady steps before she had to pause. The baby was right there, she could feel it. Her hand dived between her legs to check and felt with her fingertips the spherical shape between her folds peaking into her undergarments. The primal need to give birth took over once more and whether she wanted to or not, Marion found herself bearing down with the contraction.
This baby could not be born, not now and not here. If she could not stop pushing she would have to find another way. With her hand wedged between her thighs she clamped it firmly over the mass in her sodden underwear, and with a low grunt she was uncontrollably pushing against the palm of her own hand.
“Nnghhhh— noooo.. don’t c-come o-outtttt…” she growled, her body pushing ferociously and she could feel the head slip forward.
In the shadows Marion grunted and heaved and pushed. Against these efforts she tried to keep her palm over the emerging head to prevent it coming out any further. Her legs were wide and trembling, the heavy mass between her hips forcing her pelvis apart. It was hell, being stuck like this, her labia stretching around the emerging head, the desperate need to get this over with - to deliver this baby. The placement of her own hand proved futile, her body outright refusing to do anything that could delay or prevent the birth. Instead her knees buckled, sinking into a deep squat, and her free hand flew forward to brace her labouring body against the rough bricks of the dark alley while the other hand cupped the head of the incoming babe.
“Ohhhhh fuck…” her groans barely audible, all efforts going into birth. “Oh Gods… help me… it’s coming— it’s coming o-outtt!”
The hand at the apex of her thighs was supporting the head rather than stopping it from coming out. She gasped, sucking in a desperate breath, and leaned into the push giving everything she had into bearing down. She sobbed as the head reached a full crown in her underwear, its large shape undeniable and filling her small palm. The clothing was damp and stretched but she couldn’t remove them, both hands were occupied - one holding her upright in the squat the other holding the emerging head. “Grrnnnhhhhh!!” The low and primal groan of effort rattled the back of her throat and ever so slowly the head was born into her palm.
Smoke was filling the city, homes and shops were on fire, the enemy’s army was tearing her home apart. Loud and sudden blasts echoed down the alleyway, shaking the streets and buildings all around her. Marion fell forward, scrambling on all fours to get away from danger, all the while her baby’s head hung from her body filling her underwear. The rough cobbled street grazed and cut her knees as she crawled further down the side street, desperate to find some shelter. Fluids were leaking from her opening leaving a trail of damp in her wake. She found a door, indented slightly into the brick wall. She tried the handle but it was locked. A cry of fear and frustration left her lungs as she pounded and pushed against the wooden door.
The baby wasn’t waiting for safety or shelter, the next contraction was soon taking hold and she rocked on all fours in the alcove, humming an instinctual noise as the baby’s shoulders started to press against her opening.
“D-don’t…. No….” Marion panted and pleaded with her body.
But her hips sank backwards and she was uncontrollably pushing once more, grunting with every wave as her body worked on expelling the child. “Mnnnghhhhhhh it— it’s coming… I can’t— stop p-p-pushingggggg!!!”
Marion clawed at the door bringing herself up on her knees as the shoulders stretched her opening wide. The baby was waiting for no one and it was coming out right into her underwear. Her fingernails dug deep into the wooden door, her hips sinking towards the floor and she roared with the effort of bearing down, of pushing the baby’s shoulders out of her body. She could feel everything as it slipped out - one shoulder, the next shoulder, its arms and hands and torso as it emerged into her undergarments. Marion managed to prise her hands from the door and scrambled with her clothing to free the path for her baby to enter this world. Pulling the underwear down a few inches she grunted with the desperate final push and the baby suddenly slipped from her body into her hands.
“Ahhh oh Gods… you’re here, you’re out….” Marion gasped, pulling the newborn straight to her chest and sitting back onto her heels. “Hello little one.” The baby shifted and squirmed in her arms and released the softest cry of a first breath.
Exhausted, Marion turned and slumped against the doorway, babe in arms. The sound of crying soon travelled down the side street and footsteps approached. Fear filled Marion’s heart, the enemy was approaching and both she and her baby were defenceless.
“Oh my goodness, is that a baby?” Came a gruff voice above her. She looked up frightened, but when she saw the familiar uniform colour and the warm caramel skin of an Allerian soldier Marion let out a relieved sob.
“Come on Miss, I’ll get you and your baby out of here.” He said kindly.
315 notes · View notes
ssprayberrythings · 11 months ago
Text
my best friend | OP81
oscar piastri x ginger!female reader / smau fic
warnings: none except if you get triggered by best friends to lovers than look out..
this is just a self indulgent fic seeing as i am a ginger and i just wanted to live in my delulu for a minute. thats all. thanks 👉👈
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yourusername posted on instagram
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oscars getting better at the picture taking thing 🙆‍♀️ 
📸: oscarpiastri 
view all comments 
fan1: y/n back at the slaying 
fan22: go oscar !! 
fan15: im new; who is she ?? 
╰ fan1: she’s a friend of oscar’s. there’s been some rumours they might be dating but neither have confirmed nor denied. she goes to some races and has become friends with some of the other drivers and some of the WAG’s so we just accept her as an honorary wag regardless if they’re actually dating. she’s also known for interacting with fans !! 
╰ liked by yourusername 
╰ fan15: ooooh thanks!! 
oscarpiastri: i told you, you just had to give me some time to learn the angles and lighting 😎
╰ yourusername: yeah, yeah, i know 
landonorris: but is he a better photographer than i am? ;) 
╰ yourusername: you already know the answer to that ;) 
╰ fan12: i love y/n and lando’s friendship 
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oscarpiastri posted on their story  
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caption: she insisted on making goodbye cupcakes @yourusername 
╰ yourusername: they turned out pretty good i’d say 
╰ landonorris: bring me some !!! 
more replies…
╰ fan17: she’s the cutest 
╰ fan22: y’all have to be dating 
╰ fan6: i want a cupcake made by y/n 
yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: bye bye oscar pastry. have fun driving fast cars 🫡 @oscarpiastri
╰ oscarpiastri: really? of all photos? AND OSCAR PASTRY? 😑
╰ yourusername: yk you low-key love it 
╰ oscarpiastri: im uninviting you from my races 
╰ yourusername: do it. i’ll just get lando to invite me 😎
more replies…
╰ fan3: goals, i think? 
╰ fan28: hes so cute 
╰ mclaren: 🧡 
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yourusername posted on instagram  
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what’s a soft launch? 
view all comments 
fan11: BESTIE THIS IS ONE 
fan23: so is she soft launching oscar or….
landonorris: 😏
╰ fan2: LANDO WHAT DO YOU KNOW 
oscarpiastri: don’t ask me, i’m not on social media enough to know 
╰ yourusername: thats such a lie. you’re always on your phone 🤨
╰ fan15: if they are dating, i love their bickering and if they’re just friends, i love this dynamic 
yourbestfriend: i wonder who gave you the caption idea 🤔
╰ yourusername: i love youuuuuuu
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: early flights 😴 
╰ oscarpiastri: see you soon. safe travels:) 
more replies…
╰ fan1: yes she’s on her way to her first race of the season 
╰ fan5: cant wait to see her and oscar !!! *hopefully* 
yourusername posted on instagram  
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i miss you and our kitchen shenanigans 
view all comments 
fan24: okay but does she miss oscar even if she is travelling to see him? or does she miss her boyfriend who she just left? i need answers 
fan22: that has to be oscar, c’mon…
oscarpiastri: its giving clingy
╰ yourusername: shut up 
lilymhe: goals ‼️
╰ yourusername: girl stop, you and alex give me life 
╰ lilymhe: nope, thats all you and your man 
╰ yourusername: i love you 
╰ lilymhe: love youuuu 
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lilymhe posted on their story  
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caption: missed my favourite ginger 👩🏻‍🦰 @yourusername 
╰ yourusername: missed you more 😘
more replies…
╰ fan81: your friendship >>>
╰ fan4: lily & y/n i love you 
yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: reunited with the besties 🧡 @landonorris @oscarpiastri
╰ landonorris: happy you’re here:) now oscar can shut up about how much he misses you
╰ yourusername: ah and he calls me clingy 🙄
╰ oscarpiastri: ❤️
more replies…
╰ fan1: “besties” sure y/n 
╰ fan24: they look so precious 
╰ fan7: just post a relationship post pleaseeeee
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oscarpiastri posted on instagram  
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Great first race back! Cant wait to see how the rest of the season goes..🧡 #PapayaNation
tagged: mclaren 
view all comments 
f1: 👏
mclaren: You did great Oscar! 
f1fan: that was such a great race to start the season!!!
fan23: the best part was that y/n was there cheering him on 
yourusername: i’ll admit i’m pretty proud. good job oscar pastry 😏
╰ oscarpiastri: wow youre being nice..kind of 
╰ yourusername: dont get used to it
╰ fan26: y/n’s love language is bullying you cant convince me otherwise 
╰ liked by yourusername 
fan13: this is definitely mclarens year, i can tell !! 
landonorris: good job out there mate! 
╰ liked by oscarpiastri 
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yourusername posted on instagram  
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oscarpiastri, lilymhe, landonorris, fan22, fan1 & others liked 
emptying out my camera roll 🧚🏻‍♀️
tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri
view all comments 
fan12: THE FOURTH PIC
fan2: Y/N THIS SOFT LAUNCH IS AN EXTRA LEVEL OF SOFT 
╰ liked by yourusername
landonorris: of all moments to post…why that one 
╰ yourusername: cuz its funny 😆
oscarpiastri: i had no idea you even took that photo..
╰ yourusername: im like the paps 📸
fan15: y/n truly is the cutest thats all i have to say
╰ fan1: agreed !! 
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oscarpiastri posted on their story  
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caption: a ginger found a ginger 🐱 @yourusername 
╰ yourusername: the loml 🥹
╰ oscarpiastri: who?? 
╰ yourusername: the cat obviously..who else
╰ oscarpiastri: uhmmmm..🤨
more replies…
╰ fan12: i want to hug her 
╰ fan44: are y’all dating..we need to know 
╰ fan21: dating: yes or no? 
╰ fan16: ignore this if youre dating…
Oscar looked through some of his responses of his recent story 
“I think we should tell them” he said looking at you putting his phone away. You were sitting down, wearing one of his jumpers and some sweats
“Are you sure?” you asked giving him your full attention 
“Yeah, they already suspect it and plus our anniversary is coming up its a perfect time to do it” he suggested walking over to where you sat on the couch, plopping down next to you. 
He put his head on your shoulder as you moved slightly to make room for him “That would be cute. I have so many pictures I want to post of you” you told him liking his idea 
“We could also post on our stories and not give any context before actually posting” you thought out loud
“Im fine with that” he agreed, lifting his head off your shoulder and turning to fully face you 
“I love you” he told you leaning in to be met with a kiss, you giggled quickly giving him the kiss he wanted “I love you, even if you do drive me crazy” you whispered 
“Hey! I do not” he pulled away pouting “You do” you chuckled “But I love you for it” you finished.
He couldn’t fight you on that so instead he repositioned himself and curled up to you, you smiled and started brushing your fingers through his hair. Eventually you both fell asleep like that, enjoying the closeness and warmth you offered to each other. 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: my second home 🧡
*replies disabled* 
oscarpiastri posted on their story  
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caption: never letting you go 🫂
*replies disabled* 
yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: hints of you are everywhere ☺️
*replies disabled*
oscarpiastri posted on their story  
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caption: 😘
*replies disabled* 
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oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbestfriend, mclaren, lilymhe & others liked
no surprise here but happy anniversary bub🧡 thanks for being my partner in crime and giving the best hugs..i love you oscar pastry !
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landonorris: ABOUT TIME 
oscarpiastri: i love you long time.❤️
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fan12: we kneW IT 
fan23: OH MY FINALLY 
lilymhe: lets go on double dates now !! ☺️ 
╰ yourusername: sounds good to me 
fan2: “giving the best hugs” I KNEW OSCAR GAVE GOOD HUGS 
fan7: SOMEONE HELP, IM NOT DOING WELL 
╰ fan26: SAME 
╰ fan11: same same 
╰ mclaren: us too 
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oscarpiastri posted on instagram   
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yourusername, landonorris, mclaren, f1 and others liked 
Cant imagine my life without you. Here's to more years to come 🧡
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yourusername: I LOVE LOVE YOU 😘
╰ oscarpiastri: DIDDO😘
╰ yourusername: 🤨
fan13: THIER BICKERING AND BULLYING EACH OTHER JUST GOT BETTER KNOWING THEYRE ACTUALLY DATING 
fan4: MY HEART IS BURSTING 
mclaren: our favourite papaya couple 🧡
╰ liked by oscarpiastri & yourusername 
fan25: the mclaren admin being y/noscar’s biggest fan is my roman empire 
╰ fan22: girl same 
landonorris: yeah yeah we get it your happy and in love..🙄
╰ yourusername: we’ll be your wing man and woman so you don’t have to third wheel all the time 
╰ landonorris: no thank you. 
╰ oscarpiastri: too bad, she’s already going through her friends that are single that she thinks would be your type 
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i hope you enjoyed this! as i said it was just a self indulgent fic that i wrote for myself but maybe it'll bring you the same joy reading it as it brought me writing it 🧡
my next fic is a danny one that im excited about so look out for that!
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colourstreakgryffin · 1 year ago
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Yandere Muichiro, Tanjiro and Giyuu forcing his beloved to eat, and she spits the food out or turns her head to the side refusing. Because she is angry after the kidnapping?
Ooooh! Okay! This can be very simple to write about! It’s been so long since I’ve done a proper request so let’s go, here it comes!
Yandere Muichiro
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“Darling… I am done with this foolish game, eat now”
Muichiro’s patience is running thin very fast as his fingertips press firmer on the pair of chopsticks he is holding out, the contents inbetween the eating utensils being a fresh hot salmon dumpling. It’s been fifteen minutes straight of this going on and on…
You, his beloved little angel, just refusing to eat the lunch he had spent almost two whole hours making, all for you and you’re rejecting him? What is he doing wrong? Why aren’t you happy? You’re with him now, you’re in the safety of his home and it’s so cozy, warm and perfect in this bedroom. What is there to dislike about this situation? Muichiro doesn’t get it
To you, you couldn’t despise Muichiro anymore than you already do. He took away your freedom, disorientated your senses, dragged you to this awful mansion and has tied you up to a futon by a pair of steely Nichirin metal chains, you cannot break free and he is forcing you to stay put all so obediently until he comes back. Everytime Muichiro walks into the room, you want to throw up
Muichiro, with furious sharp mint green eyes and a open scowl at your refusal as you stay silent and tilt your head away from him, uses his free hand to roughly grip your chin and pull your face back into his forward-facing direction to pry open your mouth by your cheeks with no-longer gentle calloused fingers to shove the dumpling into your mouth, forcing you to close your mouth with his strong, stern hold as it looks like he is ready to snap your neck if you disobey him…
How could such a sweet, timid little cutie like Muichiro, the young adult you had fallen for. End up being such a sick psychopath like this? And what did you do to deserve this type of treatment? Kidnapped, socially-isolated, heartbroken and now being forced to eat food you are thousand percent certain may just be laced with some type of drug…
Yandere Tanjiro
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Tanjiro sighs gently, on the verge of just losing himself but he will not give up at all, never, he cannot just risk being all flimsy whilst his beloved is incapable of caring for herself. His determination is made of titanium and his will is stronger than steel. The Kamado smiles warmly and sweetly, his pretty plum red eyes almost glowing as he, once again, picks out a chopstick-full of nice healthy seafood rice and places it in his mouth. Like with a picky stubborn child, he is demonstrating that the dinner he has brought for you on this fine cool night, is not dangerous and not laced with anything
The food, its quality and its safety is not the problem to you at all, the real problem is what Tanjiro has done to you… your ex-crush, the man you really liked. Ended up being a complete and utter dangerous monster to you, drugged you up with a simple cup of tea, dragged you back to his Estate and is now keeping your disappearance a secret, so nobody can try look for you as he has made sure everybody thinks you had passed away from a mission
Continuously spitting out the rice chopstick-fulls that Tanjiro gently but firmly shoves into your mouth, his tolerance over the ‘disrespect’ grows more and more unable to keep up. You just keep refusing him at every turn and he finds it so heartbreaking, he has done so much for you… so much. His love for you is so strong that he can’t stop thinking about you and it’s driving him mad, just as much as you refusing to eat the dinner is
Tanjiro can only hope the demonstrations he keeps doing for you will break through your stubborn barrier, he is only doing this for your health and your safety. Just eat the food already, you need some type of sustenances, you can’t starve yourself. That’ll make Tanjiro just lose his marbles to a uncontrollable state if he cannot make you digest anything beneficial and life-saving, especially when you clearly need it. Now, that you’re restrained to his futon and not going anywhere anytime soon
He is very ready to just begin begging as you close your mouth with a open hateful scowl directed at him, it makes his heart shatter further at how much you openly despise him, how angry and agitated you are. You’ve been this way for hours, for days and it’s getting tiresome. You just need to accept your new life, that’s Tanjiro’s thought process. He doesn’t like seeing you so upset and so irritate but he cannot risk you going out, where demons and men run around… it’s too dangerous
“Please, sweetheart… how about just half? Can you just have half?”
Yandere Giyuu
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Giyuu is growing frustrated. So frustrated as he gazes the shattered ceramic bowl and the discarded of piping hot udon, the savoury liquid pooling over the large broken pieces of the cutlery. How disappointing and cruel… Giyuu is trying his best to make you eat, his precious sweetheart, the one woman he needs more than anything ever. He has gone far beyond any other person would to make sure you will stay with him, he can’t stand the fact you’re not cooperating him
Giyuu’s cold dark sapphire blue eyes slide from the destroyed remnants of the dinner he cooked for you to you directly, tied up with firm tight ropes up against his futon and trying to wiggle out of the grasp of the irritating binds. Giyuu won’t let you leave at all so there is truly no point for you to try, you’re never walking out of the door without him linked to your side, you’re never talking to anybody without his permission. He won’t take any chances and he cannot lose you, like he has lost everybody else in his life
“My love… was there something off about the udon?”
You didn’t even answer Giyuu, not at all giving him a single side-glance at your pure unadulterated fury bubbling over uncontrollably that you just desire to lash out at your kidnapper. The sweet, shy, small-voiced man you had enjoyed speaking to in your time of independent freedom. The one who went from gentle but interested to a full-blown threat as he took you away from humanity, he took away your ability to walk around and now suspects you to love him back?!
Giyuu, on his end, is just trying his best to prove to you how much you mean to him, that he has gone to such a extreme drastic, the most extreme drastic possible, to show you his undivided passionate love. That he is devoting so much of his time to you and taking care of you, the most perfect little housewife. You don’t need to do anything anymore. Don’t you want a man to take care of you and ensure no demons ever touch you? That sounds great to Giyuu as a whole
Maybe not today, but Giyuu will make you love him as much as he loves you, he will make you willingly accept every longtime cooking gift he presents you, he will have you all his to the point you don’t even want to go out anymore. He must, he needs you and he knows he can’t live without you nor with himself if you’re still running around the dead of night where demons prowl, you’re safe here and that’s the greatest thing a Hashira like him can do for his lover
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ghostmaldo · 10 months ago
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ꨄStardew Valley Headcannons: Artist farmer leaves a sketch for their love interest to find ꨄ
This took me so long to write, I’ll cry if this flops, but its fine ;-;
I might draw out the poses honestly… gives me something to do hehe Xp
No warnings, fluff, comfort, GN!Reader
Ask box: Open 💙
~Maldo
ᡣ𐭩 Penny ᡣ𐭩: Ooooh this sweet child, I just want to take her away from all of her troubles-
~It’s been a long day for Penny. She’s been spending most of the day tutoring Vincent and Jas, taking them out into the wilderness and to the library. Standing outside for a moment while the rain pelted the library rooftops. Of course, eagerly chatting with farmer while they ran around town doing their usual chores.
~ Between all that of course she’d have a altercation with her mother. Nothing she can’t handle but that dosen’t mean it dosen’t hurt any less. So, she practically dragged her feet back to her camper (RV? Whatever that thing is called).
~She reaches out for the handle of the door, then she stops. What this…?Her eyes blowing open slightly as she sees a neat envelope sticking out of the crack in the door. She see’s her name written in a sparkly gel pen as she retrieves from the door. Her heart starts to beat a bit harder in chest…
~She carefully opens the envelope. The scent of a sweet smelling perfume pulls at her heart strings further. Someone must have put a lot of thought into this little gift…for her…?
~Unfolding the paper from inside, she takes in a sharp breath. It’s a portrait drawing, of her sitting in fields. It’s gorgeous… It looks exactly like her… Penny marvels at each pencil stroke. Even the little smudges at the ends of the paper catch her eye. She almost feels like crying. And a single tear does fall when she sees the signature at the bottom.
From: (Farmer)
~The farmer, as if one Que, appears behind her. “Oh you found it! I was worried it might-“
~She can’t hold herself back from throwing her arms around the farmer and hugging them tight. The farmer returning the embrace happily. Penny didn’t know how the farmer knew, but she needed to see this after the kind of day shes had.
~She frames the drawing and keeps it in a special place her mother can’t find. Often looking at it when she needs a pick me up and instantly she feels a little better about life.
ᡣ𐭩Shane ᡣ𐭩 Disclaimer: Due to my own personal experiences/triggers I’ve been warned by my friends I shouldn’t play his route and I’ve only really picked up things here and there so it may not be perfect, but I still want to include him as he is still very deserving of affection. That being said, this is where farmer and Shane have a few hearts between each other and he dosen’t hate them entirely ^^
~Another late night walking back alone to his Aunt’s house from the saloon. His head is swimming with all the beer in his veins, swaying from side to side on his feet as he walks. Eventually arriving to his doorstep, through his blurry visions. He makes out his name on the front of his door. “Shaaane… thats my name.”
~His a bit confused at first. Reaching out to touch the letters of his name written in the sparkling gel ink. That’s when realized his name is written on an envelope of some kind. The confusion on his face only deepens. What kind of joke was this? He certainly wasn’t laughing.
~He grumbled as he fumbled with opening the letter. Revealing the picture of himself with his chicken Charlie… He blinks… and blinks again… He stares at the picture for a long time. His drunken mind unable to process what his looking at. At the bottom of the page he reads:
“From (Farmer)”
~He feels a tightness form in his chest. He almost wants to be angry the farmer left this for him to find… Yet… he thumbs over the thin strides of ink forming his face.
~After several minutes of just standing there holding the drawing, he carefully tucks the drawing into his coat pocket. Wondering inside and briefly forgetting about it as he throws himself into bed to sleep off the hangover. The farmer somehow finding themselves into his dreams.
~He won’t bring up the drawing for a few days I think. Not exactly knowing what to say. It isn’t until he sees the farmer one random afternoon buying supplies from Marnie that he catches them before they leave.
“Uhh, thanks for this.” He takes the folded piece of paper out from his pocket, unable to look the farmer in their eyes. “It’s nice…”
ᡣ𐭩Maru ᡣ𐭩
She’s having her afternoon sit near the saloon. Enjoying the warm air and peaceful chirping of the birds near by. Penny usually does by to sit with her sometimes, but she’s pleasantly surprised to find the farmer waving at them. A brand new battery pack in their hand, instantly she perks up, wondering if perhaps…
~ It is! She’s overjoyed to receive another battery pack from the farmer. Maru already knows the exactly project she’ll use it for. She waves the farmer good bye as they have other things to do.
~Once they’ve gone. Something feels different… about this battery pack. Sitting back down and inspecting the object more closely. She noticed theres something attached to the battery. An envelope with her name written on it. “Hmmm?”
~Cursorily, she thumbed the letter open. Using the upmost of care to unravel the drawing inside. Her eyes went wide with surprise. A drawing of her at the clinic writing something on a clipboard. It was so… life like. Just by looking it over, Maru could tell it was done with care. She smiled fondly. A loud, she read: “From, (Farmer)
~Quickly, she hurried after the farmer, hoping they hadn’t gotten to far. Seeing them about to head back to their farm, she blitzed it. Hugging them from behind as she reached them. “Thank you farmer! This is the best!”
~Another one to frame it and place it somewhere special. Considers it one of her most prized possessions.
ᡣ𐭩Sebastian ᡣ𐭩
~Lizard blinking at 10am in the morning. Sebastian reaches to turn the alarm off on his phone. He groans and grumbles for a few minutes before deciding to sit up and move over to his computer. He placed his fingers on his keyboard, the abruptly stopped when he felt a strange sensation on the pads of his fingers.
~Tilting his head, he spotted… an envelope His name written in a neat sparkly cursive. Ugh… he hoped this wasn’t a joke from his mother. He carelessly ripped the envelope open, though he was careful with the contents inside. Unfolding the paper, his eyes landed on a drawing of him… one of him working on his motorcycle. One of the corners of the page reading: From (Farmer)
~Sebastian.exe has stopped working-
~He takes a slow deep breath in, heart beating wildly inside his chest. He found the gesture to be so… sweet. Sebastian admires the piece for a long while before he can focus on anything. He places it somewhere safe but where he can still admire it within his working space. It’s all he can think about for the entire days (And probably for several days after)
~In the evening time, he purposely places himself near the mines so he can show his appreciation to the farmer. He waves them over as soon as he sees them. He becomes a little shy rubbing the back of his neck nervously, but he does want to say something. “Hey, I found the drawing on my desk… Thank you… That was very kind of you…” Will hesitate to go in for a hug but if farmer meets them halfway he will gladly embrace them.
ᡣ𐭩Leahᡣ𐭩 Disclaimer#2: I haven’t tried to romance Leah yet and I know the very baseline of her personality so I apologize (again) if this one isn’t perfect but also still wanted to include her.
~Leah’s been inside her small home for most of the afternoon working on her latest project. Deciding to take a stroll through town to take a small break and stretch her limbs out. She opens her door and catches the glimpse of something fluttering downward and landing on her door mat. An envelope? What could this be?
~ Inspecting the object, she traces her finger over her name. Some of the glitter from the Gel pen rubbing off. She can’t hide the smile that creeps onto her face. She’s a bit giddy over receiving something so mysterious and thoughtful!
~She opens the letter and finds the portrait of herself inside. She’s smiling happily with her house in the background. Lead is amazed by the penmanship. Her eyes glaze over every detail, her heart swelling with emotion. At the bottom of the page is a signature: From (Farmer). She lets out a happy squeal and lightly presses the drawing to her chest.
~Quickly, she runs inside to find a frame for the piece. Placing it on a special place on her wall where she can easily admire it. Then she takes off into town as originally planned. Now with a new motive in mind.
~She’s happy to find the farmer running around town. Lead quickly catches them and pulls them into a warm hug. “Farmer! I didn’t know you could draw! I love the gift you left for me! We should have drawing sessions together!” She’s just so happy and excited to have someone to relate too and the gesture was so sweet to her.
ᡣ𐭩Sam(son) ᡣ𐭩
~Okay, okay, so his already well into his morning routine before he notices anything. He comes back into his room to retrieve his skateboard when he then notices something tapped to it. An envelope with his name written on it. He eyes cursorily as he picks it up. Honestly having no idea what the letter could possibly be about.
~Opening it up, he find the drawing of him on his skateboard. A really well done drawing of him on his skateboard. “Wow.” He grips both ends of the paper and takes a moment to admire it. Eventually finding the signature at the bottom corner of the page. From: (Farmer).
~He breaks out into a wide smile. He can feel the warmth of his own face and his heart swoons. He places the drawing on his dresser before taking off without his skateboard. He briefly pauses outside, having mean to have grabbed it. But his brain is spinning so much he just waves off the skateboard and takes off on foot to see if the farmer might be wondering around somewhere.
~And his right. He catches them coming out of the community center. He approaches them with a smile thats returned to him. “So, when did you have time to sneak into my room hm?” He teases lightly, and they share a laugh together. “Hey but really, that was really nice of you. You’re really talented!”
~Another one to become shy when he goes in for a hug but once he feels the farmer wrap their arms around him, his content.
~He’ll stick around a moment to catch up with farmer, inviting them to hangout with him and his friends sometime at the saloon. He gives them one last hug before letting them get back to their work. The whole walk home his smiling like his on top of the world.
~ Tapes up the drawing somewhere in his room, his mom asks him about one time and he blushed the whole time as he explained the farmer gave it to him. Mom finds it sweet and teases her son about it.
ᡣ𐭩 Haleyᡣ𐭩
~ Haley opens the door to her shared home and finds the farmer standing there, mud and all, trying to place the envelope of the frame of her door. They stare at each other for a moment before he nose scrunches up as she notices the mud caked around their boots. “What are you doing?” She asks a bit dryly before she notices her name inscribed on the letter.
~”Oh! Is that for me?” She plucks the letter from the farmers hand before they have anytime to explain themselves. They stand there awkwardly as she doesn’t hesitate to rip the letter open. Revealing the drawing of her with her camera. Her face turns into one of surprise, a little oh leave her lips. it’s a bit hard to tell at first if she likes the drawing…
~Then she smiles gleefully. Spinning around with the drawing still in her hands and hugging it to her chest (not so gently as Leah but the drawings fine ^^). She goes to hug the farmer but stops when they realize they’re still covered in mud. So, instead, she gently lays her hand on their shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.
~”You made me look so pretty! Thank you! If you maybe… clean up a little maybe you can join Emily and I for dinner?” The farmer happily agrees. At dinner time is when Haley hugs them properly now that their clean. Even going as far as to compliment the shampoo they used. “So much better now that all the mud is gone!” (It’s a compliment, I promise)
~At dinner time, the farmer can see Haley’s placed the drawing in a frame and has it in her living room where everyone can gaze upon her beauty capture by the farmer.
ᡣ𐭩 Harveyᡣ𐭩
~”Alright (Farmer), just take this medication as directed and make sure to stay hydrated okay? And try to be careful in those mines!” Harvey’s gives the farmer a friendly smile as they are discharged from their clinic. Linus having brought them him when he found them exhausted in mines some time during the day. He was glad to see they were alright and hoped they found some time to get some rest.
~As his going to finalize his paperwork and pass it on to Maru, he sees an envelope on top of his other paperwork… when did that get there? He read his name on the letter, lightly pulling it from his clip board. He rest up against the counter, pulling the drawing from inside. A drawing of him taking a stroll through the patchy area in town. It’s so lovely… it takes him a moment to realize it is him. “From… (Farmer)”
~His so touched by the kind gesture he just stand there for a long time. Maru has to come find him to notify him he has Marnie waiting for him and he quickly has to tuck away the piece of paper in his coat. Clearing his throat and desperately trying to compose himself. “Sir your face is a little red are you okay?”
Stutters out a: “O-Oh yes! I-I’m fine just a little warm is all.”
~His a little distracted throughout the day and he can’t seem to stifle the rapid beating of his heart. His already thinking of something he can give to the farmer as appreciation… but he can’t seem to find anything he deems would speak his gratitude… Oh well maybe…!
~After locking up the clinic for the day, he catches the farmer out of the corner of his eye. He hollers for them and smiles brightly as they approach him. He lightly scolds them for not being in bed and resting, but quickly forgives them when they show him the bottle of water tucked away in their overalls (Or however farmer may carry this item ^^)
~”Oh and thank you for the uh… letter you left me. That was nice of you…” Is a blushing red mess and his nervously fiddling with his hands. “Um don’t worry about the bill this time. I’ll take care of it… just this one.” His startled when the farmer hugs him out of nowhere. The scent of the earth coming of their clothes makes his mind go a little blank., though deep down he enjoys the interaction.
~Has the drawing carefully tapped onto his clipboard so he always had it with him.
ᡣ𐭩Emilyᡣ𐭩
~Emily’s happily bursts through the doors of the saloon for her shift. There dosen’t seem to be too many patrons yet as she walked over to the other side of the counter. Gus appeares suddenly and catches her attention. “Hey! Secret admirer left this for you.” He claims with a wink as he slides over an envelope to her.
~”Oh! A secret admirer?” She looks at her name on the letter fondly. Closing her eyes as she holds it up above her face, almost if she were trying to conjure a face of who would have left this for her. The anticipation becomes too much as none of the faces she makes seem’s right. She impatiently opens the letter and finds the drawing of her dancing elegantly inside.
~She gasps and her eyes double in size…. Then promptly screams in absolute delight, jumping up and down on her feet. Gus shaking his head and smiling in the back ground while he prepares for the salon. “Make sure to read the bottom left corner.” When Emily hears this, she seizes her jumping and looks back at the drawing. From: (Farmer)
~ It’s at that exact moment farmer walks through the front doors. Emily sequels happily upon seeing them. Immediately running to practically jump into their arms. “(Farmer)! This is so sweet, I love it so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She gives you a tender kiss on the cheek that has farmer melting. Me too farmer, me too.
~Invites them to have a drink at the bar while she works. Every so often coming over to talk with them. Anyone can tell she has an extra pep in her step and her eyes are dazzling every chance she speaks with the farmer.
~ Frames the drawing and places it in a special spot in her room. Frequently picks it up and talks to it as if it the farmer themselves.
ᡣ𐭩Elliotᡣ𐭩
~Elliot is peacefully taking his afternoon walk, his mind a bit busy with thinking about his writings. On his way back, he crosses paths with the farmer. Seemingly in a mad dash to get where they were going, though they do wave at each other and smile before they disappear from his sight.
~Upon returning home, he instantly spots the envelope on his door. “My, my, what is this?” He says to himself, gingerly picking up the letter and delicately prying it open. Inside, is a beautiful drawing of him at his piano. A hushed gasp leaves his lips. He covers his mouth with his finger tips as his in pleasant shock. His eyes travel all over the drawing until he finds the signature at the bottom. From: (Farmer)
~He shakes his with a smile on his face. “Oh, that farmer.” He speaks lovingly. He takes the drawing inside where he sets it on his piano like a sheet of music. Theres something brand new brewing in his mind. He sits himself before the piano, fingers tapping away at the keys experimentally. Until theres a new song dancing on them. It’s not long before his scribbling notes on blanks sheet music.
~Before the sun goes down, Elliot decides to take one final stroll through town. In hopes to find the farmer still running their many errands. Lucky for him, he finds them doing just that. Snagging them as gently as he by the arm, he playfully swings them around. “There you are (Farmer)! If I may have a few moments of your time.”
~Sits them down on the nearest bench and shows them the song he wrote for them. (Yay swooning yet?) Together they sit and chat long after the suns gone down. Invites them over the following day so he can preform said song for them. “For your art of me. I was touched by it (farmer), allow me to show you my appreciation.
~The drawing sits on one side of his piano much like sheet music
ᡣ𐭩Abigail ᡣ𐭩
~Abigail is wondering the valley late into the evening. Hitting all of her usual spots and now headed for the graveyard. It’s a pretty normal evening when she first arrives. Then theres something laying on the ground that catches her eye. An envelope with her name on it, sitting in the middle of a gravestone. “Ooooh, spooky!”
~She reached for the envelope and looks over the writing. She turns it over a few times to see if there’s anything else mysterious about the object. When she dosen’t find anything more, Abigail opens the letter. Finding a drawing of her playing her instrument in a majestic looking manner. “From: (Farmer)”
~She holds the drawing up to the light to admire the details closer. She’s so touched by the gesture. She has half the mind to run over to the farmers house right now. But decided to simply find them in the morning. By the time she gets there, they’ll be long asleep.
~Best believe as soon as she wakes up for the day shes at the farmers door knocking. When they open the door, she dosen’t waste a second in throwing her arms around the farmers neck in an embrace. “Thank you so much for the drawing! It’s beautiful! I had to come over and say thank you!”
~She’ll stay awhile and chat with the farmer before heading home. But not before she invites them over to possibly have a game night or hangout at the salon.
~Frames the picture and has it in her room where she sees it at least once each day.
ᡣ𐭩Alexᡣ𐭩
~His outside throwing the football to himself before deciding to come inside. His grandparents are out and about at the moment, so he decides to sit at the kitchen table. Once his settled, he noticed something on the table. White envelope sitting undisturbed with his name on the front.
~Thinking its a note from his grandmother, he opens it without a second thought. His face drops when he sees the drawing of him inside. Football in hand. He gawks for a moment, totally caught off guard by the illustration. At the bottom he finds the infamous signature: From: (Farmer)
~He smirks at the discovery. Leaning his head into his palm while still holding the paper with admiration in his eyes. His ears momentarily perk up as he hears a familiar voice outside. His granny, and behold, the farmer themselves!
~Alex quickly gets up from his chair and quickly makes his way outside. Nearly running into his grandmother, she walks inside with a happy, knowing smile on her face. Chasing after the farmer, he catches them just in time. “Running away when you’ve left me such a charming gift?” His smirking but his mostly playing around.
~ Chats with the farmer and manages to slip in they should come over for dinner with him and his grandparents. To which farmer gladly agrees.
~While Alex was away flirting with the Farmer, his grandmother finds the image on the table and decides to place it on the fridge. Alex dosen’t have the heart to move and honestly its the perfect place for it.
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gatorbites-imagines · 2 years ago
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hey! i've been thinking, how would team 141 react to an autistic reader suddenly making sounds? like a meow or a hiss, without them even realizing they produced that sound because it was completely automatic?
i really wanted to see this because i just whistle out of nowhere and i never realize it unless i get lectured for whistling at an inappropriate time for example Dx
141 headcanons
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I too make random noises at times, mine is quoting memes or noises I hear lmao.
John Price
Price would notice pretty quickly, but I can’t imagine him honestly saying anything about it since it doesn’t bother anyone. He might say something if your noises end up being distracting during mission though, but he doesn’t mean it in any bad way.
He isn’t likely to join you in your noises, but hearing you does make him smile softly whenever he does, as it means your by his side and feel safe enough to not feel the need to mask around him. It makes Price feel good that you are just yourself.
He finds it cute, because its something so you that he can’t help but love it. It becomes a quirk of yours that he associates with you as a whole.
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
Gaz, like Price, doesn’t really mind or care all that much. Oh, you’re meowing? Cool, you’re hissing? Rad. Gaz seems like the type to give you nicknames based on the noises you make, not in a bad way of course, but because he thinks they’re special to you as a person.
You don’t get it when he starts calling you chatterbox, and before you know it everyone on base calls you Chatterbox as your callsign. Its first when Gaz explains the reason to you that it strikes you.  Of course, you’d be embarrassed but Gaz makes sure you aren’t, as he loves you and anything special about you.
He might start making noises alongside you, but he does it fully on purpose, unlike Ghost he cant help it. He just likes having something with you, and he thinks its funny how if he joins in you start making many more noises.
John “Soap” MacTavish
Soap would ask you about it after a while, as he doesn’t get why you make noises. When you look confused as you don’t realize you’ve been doing it, he explains all the meowing and hissing. When you get extremely embarrassed and apologize, he just tilts his head in confusion cuz why apologize? It was cute.
After you explain it to him, he’s like “ooooh, okay, cool” and he just lets you continue as you have in the past. Soap doesn’t mind it, unless its during an important mission, but that’s for your mututal safety for the most part, so he doesn’t mean to be mean when he tells you to be quiet during missions.
He makes noises with you, on purpose in the beginning but at some point, it becomes habit and he doesn’t realize he’s meowing alongside you until afterwards. Calls you animal-based nicknames and has a different one each day, he makes a game out of it.
Simon “Ghost” Riley
I shall drop my hc that Simon is autistic in here again, so whilst he doesn’t make noises, as he’s trained that out of himself, he has other quirks. He tends to stim with his hands or chew on his lip or nails, so he doesn’t judge you for your quirks.
Being around you might honestly start making Simon verbal stim too, like you’ll meow and he meows back on instinct. Neither of you notice you guys are doing it, until Soap starts joining in over comms when you two have been meowing for the past 20 minutes.
He thinks its nice and comforting that he’s not the only autistic person on the team, and he’s almost a little jealous but also proud that you can be yourself without having the need to hide yourself like he feels he does.
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taintandviolent · 2 years ago
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Ouija Board (Tate Langdon x Reader)
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Summary: You have a sleepover at your new house, and your friend decides to bring out your Ouija board. But, you’re all teenage girls, so the questions are completely unhinged and un-serious. But, the ghost you’re talking to takes full advantage of the situation. It’s a perfect opportunity, he’s been watching for you weeks. You’re living in his room, afterall.
warnings: 2.9k words -- self insert! female receiving. shameless smut. post-death Tate, ghost sex, cunnilingus, handjob, rough sex, unprotected sex, mention of ghosts/death.
Ao3 link here! Full fic below the cut! 18+.
tagged: @zabelcolin @kaismanwich @elsamars @thewolveswithin @marylovesevanpeters @80strashbag @r-3tro​ @twinkiemaximoff​ @milkovich-misfit {dm/ask to be added!}
It was the third week in the new house.
It was the first time that you actually felt at home. Somehow, you’d managed to make two friends from school, which was equally as shocking to you as it was to your parents. In previous schools, you’d always been on the outskirts, bored stiff at the idea of socialising. When you’d announced to your dad at dinner that you’d actually braved the choppy shores of friendship, he’d nearly choked on his coffee.
“That’s wonderful! Why don’t you invite them over for dinner tonight?” Your mom asked, setting her mug down on the table. You rocked your foot back and forth, mulling over the idea. Previously, your days off from school had been spent unpacking and checking around corners, listening to the creaking and whining of an old house.
Your mother was delighted with its age, commenting on the Tiffany glass and wood — but you felt things that had rotted underneath the wood. Things that whispered when your back was turned, or lingered in the kitchen when you went for a glass of water in the middle of the night.
“Okay, sure.”  
So that night, instead of flicking the light switch off in your bathroom and making a beeline for your bedroom, you sat on the floor with Jessica, Angie, a dish of pizza rolls and three glasses of grape soda.
You swallowed the mouthful, and nodded. “No, I’m serious. This house is weird. The first week I was here, in the kitchen… I saw a blonde lady with a hole in the back of her head.”
Jessica snapped the book she was leafing through, and turned. “I bet she was murdered. Don’t you have an Ouija board?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, pointing towards the bookcase. “Never used it, though.”
“You’re going to. This is much more fun than going to Town Hall and asking for records on previous owners. Sometimes, they don’t include death certificates — which is obviously what everyone is interested in. That’s the good stuff.” It took all of three minutes for Jessica to set it up. In unison, the three of you delicately placed two fingers on the planchette.
“Okay… so, what do we ask?”
You chewed on the inside of your lip, thinking.
“Is there anyone here with us?” You blurted out.
The planchette skidded to life, circling in the middle of the board. You’d seen it happen in movies, but the actual sensation was an unsettling one. YES. You all exchanged looks, searching for any guilty expressions — but it seemed that none of you had opted to play any tricks. The planchette had moved by itself.
“Did you die here?” Angie asked.
YES.
Jessica gasped. “Ooooh, what if it’s a cute ghost boy like in Casper? Can I keep you?”  
Completely enrapt with the idea, she turned her attention to the board, and asked, “Is the spirit in this room male?”
YES.
“Well, that rules out Miss Hole in her Head.” You cleared your throat, focusing on the printed letters. “Have you been the one in my room every night?”
“The one in your room every night?!” Jessica hissed, shooting a pointed look at you. You shrugged apologetically. Angie, who was visibly uneasy with the entire idea, almost fell backwards when the spirit answered.
YES.
“Oh my god!?” Jessica hung her head between her arms, laughing. “It’s probably some old grandpa with a shrimp dick, let’s be real here.”
“Bet. I’ll find out. Do you have a big dick, Mr. Ghost?” You asked.
Again, the planchette zipped to YES. Whoever he was, he didn’t hesitate. Cute. The three of you howled, laughing at the ridiculousness of the question. Angie desperately tried to redirect the conversation by asking the ghost what it wanted. The planchette spelled out HER.
Jessica lifted her fingers, and Angie screeched at her to return them. “If you don’t say goodbye, the spirit will have an open invitation to come into you!”
“To come!?” Jessica mocked. “To come into me?! Oh, the horror — don’t come into me! Pull out first, Ghost.”
Angie scowled. “You’re so gross.”
As they bickered, you stared at the planchette. It was still active, despite Angie and Jessica’s attention being pulled away. It quivered back and forth, as though it was shaking nervously.  
Once Jessica’s wandering mind had been reigned back in, the three of you managed a few more more questions; some about murder, some about occult, and some about other ghosts in the house. Eventually, the sun disappeared from your window, plunging your room into darkness, and your mother called the three of you down to eat. Your friends stayed for about an hour after dinner, and they’d seemingly forgotten about the Ouija board. You hadn’t, though. You leaned your back against the door, the coldness of the glass piercing through your cotton shirt. Your eyes trailed up the staircase, following the bend of the bannister as it curved to the left. Before you made your way upstairs to ready yourself for bed, you craned your neck down the hall, trying to listen for the whispers.
~
You sat upright in your bed, gasping for air. The book clutched in your hand fell to the floor with a thud. You hadn’t even really remembered falling asleep, but the creak of your floorboards had woken you up. You were met with nothing but the silence and glittering darkness of the room while your eyes adjusted. Eventually, the speckles turned into furniture pieces; your dresser, your mirror, your bookcase… everything seemed in order. The clock on your bedside table incessantly blinked 2:34 AM.
Something skidded across the floor, a spinning blur of tan and black. You yelped, throwing yourself up against your headboard. Your room was silent save for that sound of something hard scooting against a flat surface. You took a deep breath, and crept forward gingerly, wincing each time your mattress creaked.
You gripped the edge of your bed frame tightly, knuckles paling. You peered over. In the middle of the floor where you’d been sitting earlier, the Ouija board was laid out. The planchette swept across the board as it had earlier, but this time with no hands to guide it. It zipped across the board aggressively, as though it was trying to get your attention.
“Hello?”
The triangle paused, then slowly drifted to hello.
Dumbfounded, your mouth opened and closed. You were at a loss — because no horror movie had ever given you any idea how to politely hold a conversation with a spirit outside of the traditional setting.
“Um…. can I… help you? Are you here to possess me?”
Stupid. That was stupid.
Watching as the planchette swept across the board, you read the letters allowed.
“L…A…Y…. Lay? Lay. Okay. B…A…C…K? Lay back?” You waited for further confirmation, but the planchette stayed still for a moment.
It started spinning again, quickly spelling out a final instruction. “Close my eyes. Lay back and close my…. eyes.”
You heaved a sigh, and against your better judgement, you did. You shimmied back underneath the covers, pulling them up to your chest, and waited. The seconds were excruciating, and you were sure some horror movie had to have started like this.  
The duvet rustled at the bottom of the bed, and all at once, a gust of cold air hit your feet. The mattress gave to the weight of someone, and you yelped at the feeling of clothed shoulders nestling in between your thighs.
A broad hand ghosted across your stomach, fiddling the scalloped edge of your pyjama shorts. It swooped into your inner thigh, then circled down along your knee. Though the actions were soft, you couldn’t help but feel the knot forming in your stomach. Letting out a soft whimper, you bit your lip, clamping down hard. One hand slid up, caressing the curve of your ribs. You writhed. “You’re driving me insane…” you whispered harshly. Had you really been that touch starved? 
Lips hovered over your inner thigh, the hot breath washing over the warm skin. A single finger ran along the inside, trailing further and further up. He slowed as he neared you, wordlessly asking for permission. 
“Please,” you begged, doing everything you could not to scoot your hips down into him and embarrass yourself any further. “Please…” 
He continued. The pad of his finger floated over you, stroking, teasing until the wetness soaked through the threads. The hands disappeared, but only to return to the sides, where they gripped the waistband, tugging them softly off your hips.
You took a deep breath and immediately clamped your hand over your mouth, muffling the shrill whine that tried to escape. Whoever he was, lapped at your cunt like it was a melting ice cream cone, and it didn’t take long for it to start weeping, soaking the green sheets beneath you.
Your chest rose and fell quickly, and your eyelids fluttered, overwhelmed with the sensation. Everything was white and on fire. Your thighs trembled deep within the muscle with every flick of his tongue. Were you really getting eaten out by a ghost? Was that actually happening? You felt silly acknowledging that. His tongue flattened out against your clit and you let out a whine, erasing every other thought. He pressed his face deeper into your wet folds, tongue flicking at the underside of your clit.
“Fffffuck, oh my god.”
You had to know. You swallowed, and tightened your lips into a thin line. You were ready for whatever horrifying visual would meet you. With one final surge of courage, you flipped the covers up, opened your eyes and gazed into the tented darkness. A head of soft, blonde curls bobbed softly between your legs.
“HELLO?!” It wasn’t a greeting, but the boy lifted his head from your cunt. Two dark eyes glimmered at you from beneath the duvet.
“Hey,” he said, chin glistening. “I’m Tate. I used to live here.”
“You’re so…. cute?”
He smiled crookedly, the dimples in his cheek deepening. “Were you expecting Freddy Krueger or something?”
Your head fell back on the pillow like an anvil and a breathy laugh broke your pants. “Yeah, maybe. Jesus Christ…. I don’t know. I’ve never had a ghost between my legs.”
“You liked it. You’re so wet.” He was pleased with himself, you could tell. Reaching one finger up to stroke your opening, he angled his head to watch the way you clenched and squirmed at his touch.
“Was I… were you the one I was talking to with my friends?” He nodded. He shifted his weight, manoeuvring himself up until he was above you, supporting himself with hands on either side of your neck.
“I’ve been watching you since you moved in, Y/N… I didn’t want to scare you away.” He confessed, searching your face. “I’ve wanted you for weeks.”  
You were scrambling to keep your thoughts in one manageable bundle. On one hand, this scenario was insane and you were sick to be enjoying it. On the other… sure, he was dead, but he was easily one of the cutest boys you’d ever seen and the way he wanted you was intoxicating. His dark eyes darted from your lips to your eyes, wordlessly asking for permission. You craned your neck up to meet him, pressing into his plush, pink lips.
You’d never been one of those boy crazy teenagers, but you understood the cathartic release that sex brought. It was carnal and natural. You’d only ever slept with one other person, so the hunger was never sated, and you were left quietly fingering yourself after your parents fell asleep. Every time you’d had the chance to have made out with someone though, you tasted them. Deeply. Kissing someone released their scent, the one that only intimate partners got. And none of them had ever been as heady and addictive as Tate was. You tilted your head to get further into his waiting mouth, swirling your tongue with his. You whimpered, sending a moan down his throat.
You reached under, sliding your hands down his stomach. The tiniest trail of hair guided you to the waistband of his jeans, where you made quick work of the buttons. Breaking the kiss only to help with scooting his jeans over the curve of his ass, Tate quickly returned his lips against yours, his tongue moving past your lips eagerly.
Although you were going in blind, it wasn’t difficult to find his cock. Not only did it take up most of the space between you two, but it was hot to the touch, the heat radiating from beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. You pressed your hand against him, getting an idea for the length.
“Huh. So, you weren’t lying about that.” Tate’s hips ground against your palm in response. You reached up, flipping the elastic down so you could slip your hand in, dragging your fingers along the soft tip. Your palm was immediately slick with his precum; the thick fluid coated the soft skin. You used your thumb to smear some of it to the underside of the head, teasing at the ridges. He groaned, burying his face into your neck.
“I didn’t lie about anything you asked me.”
You began stroking him underneath the sheets in slow, full movements and Tate’s breathing hitched, hips bucking forward involuntarily. You sped up, feeling warm droplets dribble onto your exposed tummy. Your thumb pressed into the squishy flesh of his head, not expecting the reaction that followed.
“Mm-uh—please. Please, I want you. Please.” He was begging, whining, and his big brown eyes were filled with a pathetic yearning that made your walls soak even further.
“So do it.”
He wasted no time in completing your demand. He sat up, the covers falling off his back.Tate gripped himself, giving his cock a few pumps before he lined himself up, pressing his hot, leaking tip into your entrance. Snatching the opportunity from him, you bucked your hips up to his, forcing his cock inside. You clenched around him hungrily and Tate let out a throaty whine as he pushed the remaining length into you.
He started out slow, taking his time as he slid in and out of you, but the slick pull of your walls each time he slid out unravelled his concentration. Each thrust seemed a little more desperate than the last, his balls slapping against you, splashing the mixture of his spit and your cum against your inner thighs. Bottoming out inside of you, he arched his neck backwards, letting it hang heavy. “Are you a virgin?”
“Wha — no.” You breathed, adjusting your head on the pillow to look at him. Odd question to ask in the middle of the deed. “Why?”
Tate swallowed, and between pants, said, “Because…. you’re so wet.” He dropped forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His cock was still inside, the girth hitting you at a new angle, and the fullness made your stomach clench.
“I’m going to fuck you hard, okay? Tell me if I’m hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
You nodded fervidly, and slithered your hands underneath his sweat-soaked shirt until it gathered. Tate lifted his arms, and allowed you to slip the shirt over them. You tossed it towards the edge of the bed, and raked your nails along his naked chest.
“Please.” It was your turn to beg. Tate backed his hips out, pulling himself from your warmth. “I want it.”
He dropped back down to his hands, getting a tight grip on the mattress behind you. His lips met yours again, hungrily. It provided only a momentary distraction, because the second that Tate started pounding into you, you could focus on nothing else — except suppressing your aroused screams. He scooted closer to you on the bed, angling himself to get deeper.
He was hitting every spot he could, and your breaths quickened as he fucked you closer to the edge. You bit down on your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. He had just started, and you were already about to lose it.
“Are you gonna’ cum? Huh?” Tate asked, now struggling to keep his rhythm. If you were close, he seemed to be closer — and you didn’t feel so bad. Tate reached down, pulling himself out to slide the tip of his cock over your clit a few times before stuffing it back in. Your lips parted in a soundless scream as you felt the unmistakable warmth filling you, the quivering in your legs, and the desperate, spasming arch of your back.
“Fuck, fuck,” Tate chanted, feeling your orgasm as it gripped him in a wet, pulsing chokehold. “Fuck!”
As he spilled into you, Tate fell atop of your body, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. His hips were on autopilot, erratically bucking with each gush. You winced, on the verge of overstimulation. Gradually, his thrusts slowed.  
He flopped over on the side of you, one hand stroking the outside of your thigh delicately. He was gazing at you dreamily when you turned to face him.
“So, do I have to bring out the Ouija board each time I want to see you?”
Tate propped his head up on his hand. “You want to see me again?”
You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, a taunting smile curling around your swollen lips. “Uhhh… yeah.”
“I can be here every night if you want.” He purred.
“Haven’t you been anyway? Or did you lie about that?”
Tate’s brows pulled upwards, looking hurt. “I told you — I didn’t lie about anything! I’d never lie to you!”
“Okay, shh —“ You silenced him with your lips. “I’ll be right back. I have to pee.”
For the first time since you’d moved in, you weren’t afraid of ghosts as you walked to the bathroom. You were just afraid that the one in your bedroom would be gone when you got back.
He wasn’t, though.
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