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𝙰𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚘𝚝

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𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢....𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘.....𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍.

𝚂𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚘𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜. 𝙷𝚎 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍, 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍. 𝙼𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍. 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝚁𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚔 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚎. 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍. 𝚂𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚣𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝙽𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝, 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎..𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝. 𝚂𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚉𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

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"𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝚗-𝚗𝚘- 𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩- 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝-𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗-𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩"

"𝚃𝚘𝚋𝚢!...𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝘳𝘨𝘩....𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎!"

"𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴....𝙿𝙻𝙴𝚊𝚜𝚎.....-𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩- ..𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝...𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝..."

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚣𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎. 𝚃𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝙰𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚒𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗....𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎.

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎; 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚡-𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙, 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝙸𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚜.

𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎.

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𝚃𝚘𝚋𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠...𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚝.

"𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗....𝚒𝚖 𝚛𝚞𝚋𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚢....𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗..."

𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑��𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 ��𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚢 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜.

𝙸𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚠 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘��� 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏, 𝚘𝚑 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚙𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍

𝙷𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚇-𝚅𝚒𝚛𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚝

"𝚑-𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚒-𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐?"

"...𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 '𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜' 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎...𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚞𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚍𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑...."

"..𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚍...𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎"

"𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝....."

𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚣𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚔, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛.

𝚃𝚘𝚋𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎, 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚋𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗...𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚢𝚎. 𝚄𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎. 𝚁𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚣𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚎, 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚣𝚢; 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕.

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𝙷𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗, 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚣𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚢𝚊𝚛𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚞𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚊𝚠 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚘 ��𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑

𝙷𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚝, 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚣𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚎𝚛𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎. 𝚃𝚘𝚋𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚠 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏. 𝙷𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚡𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙷𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠.

𝙷𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚝. 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎.

"𝘞𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘺...."

"𝘮𝘮-𝘮𝘮....𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘰-𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦? 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢-𝘢-𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘦?"

"..𝘺𝘦𝘢..."

"...𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦"

"𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺.....𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘺"

"𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷-𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘺/𝘯..."

"...𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘰 𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵"

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ

[urdadsceilingfan]

[the journal you see is journal 4, he ripped off the number and fingers out of anger (great another diary edgy edition) ]

After the portal incident Ford fell into a heavy depression making Bill leave him because he got bored, once Ford had gotten a metal plate installed into his skull by a sketchy doctor he eventually got the idea to showcase his life's work so he wouldn't die as a failure. Ford knows he cannot show the real deal to the tourists so he spends his time creating realistic models of the creatures he’s studied keeping him busy. He refuses to have made up creatures like Mabel suggest because he views it as a mockery and scam it reminds him of someone

When the kids came for the summer he gained some confidence and weight after Mabel's much needed "mandatory self care" days. Ford loves both kids to death but has trouble showing it. Sees himself within Dipper resulting in him spending more time with the boy unintentionally separating the twins

After faking Stanley's death with a car crash he drags back the Stanmobile having it fixed and sitting in a locked garage with Ford staring at it for hours at a time repeating the words “he’s gone and there’s nothing I can do”

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[ominouspuff]

pulling strings

REQUESTS / BLOG EVENT

From @lunaemoth - request 2/2 - Palette#3 - Padme - Music stirs the soul

[stealingpotatoes]

Would Anakin and Padme have more kids after Luke and Leia? I can see the twin becoming overprotective of their younger siblings?

i don't think they would rlly -- partly bc the twins are enough for them but largely because:

[candycatfalls]

ok but in all honesty, i am willing to die for soft stan, at any age. this grumpy tsundere facade isn't fooling anyone you big ol gentle giant of a grunkle. yes he is hot BUT most of all he is infinitely huggable. get you a man who can do both

soft might have taken a sharp right turn into angst i fear

[doctorsiren]

stan and hermes maybe?

Hermes, god of merchants and tricksters 😁

[httyd-art-requests]

( @yuiayyy ) They know a fellow criminal when they see one

(Not canon to the Toothless in Gravity Falls AU!)

[ID in alt text]

[jezebelblues]

home | h.s

requested!! thank u anon, i hope u can enjoy :)

summary: the entirety of y/n’s pregnancy with their son, atlas. [nov’18–may’19]

cw: unexpected pregnancy, labor + labor pains, fem!reader. i think that’s it!!

word count: approx 12.3k

| hope yall don’t mind that i included louis in this. i miss him fr. also, thank u again anon <3 hope this wasn’t too long

Life had slowed, but only just—somehow still breezy with that undercurrent of momentum that carried him from One Direction fevered heights, to the steady rhythm of his own solo journey. Fame was no stranger, but this? These moments were the ones he cherished most. He glanced at his wife, her eyes twinkling as she sat with their son. The simple joy of this evening reminded him of how far they had come. The quiet, intimate wedding in Holmes Chapel five years ago, the shockwaves it sent through the internet because they had managed to keep it so private, and then, only a year later, the unexpected news that YN was pregnant with Atlas.

He could still remember the exact moment he found out about their little surprise, how the world had seemed to tilt on its axis when she told him. It had been unplanned, a complete shock, but one that had filled him with a profound sense of love and responsibility.

Five years ago felt like a lifetime ago, yet it also felt like yesterday.

Five Years Earlier – November first, Holmes Chapel

The cold was sharp outside, but the small cottage Harry and YN had rented for the holiday season felt warm, cozy even. A fire crackled softly in the fireplace, and YN sat curled up on the couch, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Outside, a gentle snow, the first of the season, had started to fall, covering the village in a blanket of white.

Harry had been out all day, helping his mother with some last-minute holiday preparations. The quiet of the house felt calming to YN, but there was something on her mind, something that had been gnawing at her for the past month. Her period was late—later than it had ever been.

She had noticed other small things too. A slight queasiness in the mornings that she initially brushed off as stress from the hectic, upcoming holiday season. But now, as she sat there, the weight of realization started to sink in. She might be pregnant.

Her heart pounded as she thought about it. They hadn’t planned for this. They had only been married for about a year, and though they had talked about children, it had always been a vague, distant future sort of conversation. But now, the possibility was staring her in the face, and she wasn’t sure how Harry would react.

Would he be excited? Nervous? Overwhelmed?

She glanced at her phone, considering whether to text him and ask him to pick up a pregnancy test on his way home. No, that felt too impersonal.

She had paced the empty hallways of the cottage, occasionally texting her husband back or scrolling through instagram. She knew Harry like the back of her hand, he wouldn’t be upset—perhaps a bit overwhelmed, but upset? No, from the years they’ve known each other, he loved children. She couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of dance sessions, hide and go seeks, and cartoon watching she’d walk in on when he was with the children of his family or friends. And from the discussions they’ve shared of their own future children, she knew he’d be ecstatic—she just didn’t think it’d be so soon.

A few hours later, the front door creaked open, and Harry’s voice echoed through the small cottage. “Lovey, y’here? S’cold as hell out there.”

She stood, wrapping Harry’s sweater tighter around her frame, trying to keep her nerves in check as she walked towards him. He looked so carefree, a light dusting of snow in his hair, his cheeks rosy from the cold, a grin already stretching across his face when he saw her.

“Got y’favorite mince pies from the bakery,” he announced, holding up a small paper bag as he walked towards her. “Mum says we need to fatten you up f’the winter.”

YN laughed softly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She could feel the words bubbling up in her throat, but she didn’t know how to say them. Instead, she took the bag from him and set it on the counter.

He began to shuffle around the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a few glasses. He absentmindedly hummed a tune his wife didn’t quite recognize as he floated toward the freezer, pulling out a frosted glass bottle of rum with a smile. “Mum said she would’ve made it herself but–” He laughed, shaking his head as he set the bottle down on the counter with a heavy clank. “She’s decorating the house. Looks like autumn threw up in there.”

YN only responded in a gentle chuckle, one that made him look up with his eyebrows furrowed. Harry frowned, immediately noticing the shift in her demeanor. He paused, his eyes scanning her face with concern. “Everything alright, sweet girl?”

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. Her eyes burrowed into his, shifting gaze from one eye to the other. Her lips parted, unsure of how to form the words that sat heavily in her throat. She exhaled, managing a smile as she shook her head. “Just a bit tired, thats all.”

She couldn’t tell him until she was sure. If he were to be overjoyed, she didn’t want to get his hopes up on the off-chance she wasn’t pregnant.

Harry paused for a moment, not fully convinced, but he didn’t want to push. If something was wrong, she’d tell him when she felt ready. So, he only smiled back as he unscrewed the rum and poured into the square glasses. He looked at her expectantly as he raised his eyebrows, bringing her a glass.

She stared at it as if it would jump out at her, her reflection waning in the amber liquid. She pulled her lips between her teeth, shaking her head as her cheeks flushed. “Not feeling it tonight.”

At that point, Harry knew something was wrong. He furrowed his eyebrows, setting her—well, what was supposed to be hers—drink on the counter before he took a sip of his. “You sure y’alright?”

She brushed it off with a laugh, stepping toward him as he remained leaning against the counter. YN pressed a gentle kiss on his rum-slicked lips, cold to the touch. “You worry too much.”

He wrapped his arm around her head, pulling her into his chest with a sigh. “Rightfully so, m’love. Stubborn as a mule, you are.”

She scoffed, though only humor was laced in her tone. She pushed back from him, folding her arms over her chest with a feigned frown.

“What?” He smiled, taking another sip. “Should be titled an archeologist the way I dig for your heart.”

“Oh shut it, Styles. You’ve done no such thing.”

He laughed, placing his glass on the counter behind him and gently holding onto the edges. “You’re only proving my point, lovey.”

She rolled her eyes, flicking his chest before she began to step off toward the bedroom. YN looked over her shoulder expectantly with a sly smile. “You’re not gonna join me?”

She didn’t need to ask him twice.

He tugged his shirt off, tossing it aside as his wife’s laughter echoed down the hallway. She darted toward their bedroom, her giggles trailing behind her like music. Grabbing his glass from the counter and kicking off his shoes, he chased after her, a wide, mischievous grin lighting up his face.

There was a gloomy, gray sky the next morning, the kind where the clouds stretched thick across the sky, holding back any hint of sun. YN had woken up before dawn with a gnawing queasiness—a feeling that had been creeping up more often lately. She pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to calm the discomfort.

She reached into the plastic bag, pulling out the small pregnancy test she ordered from doordash before the sun rose. She had tipped the dasher generously before staring at it in the restroom for what felt like hours. Her mind buzzed, unsteady with thoughts she couldn’t quite wrangle. The idea of being pregnant had only crossed her mind like a shooting star. She was nervous. They were still basking in the simplicity of their life, the unexpected quiet of their year-old marriage. This hadn’t been in the plan.

But here she was, two minutes ticking by like hours as she stared at the test resting on the edge of the sink.

And then, there it was.

Two blue lines.

Her heart raced, a mix of emotions she could barely process flooded her chest. She didn’t know what she was supposed to feel—excitement, worry, fear? It was all tangled together in a knot she didn’t have the strength to untangle. She felt a hint of guilt wash over her; how could she feel uncertain about something so beautiful? But it was real, and she knew it. This was so real.

She sank to the edge of the clawfoot tub in the small bathroom, hugging her arms around herself. She let herself sit there for a while, just breathing in and out, letting the realization wash over her like waves on a shore, eroding her hesitation bit by bit. Eventually, she felt a warmth begin to spread, a tentative but growing love, a sense that maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be.

Oh, god—but Harry.

Mere discussions about a hazy future never felt so prophetic.

Footsteps on the old wooden floor outside the bathroom brought her back to reality. Harry’s voice called from the kitchen, warm and sleepy, a mug clinking on the counter. “Love, you up?”

Her stomach twisted again, this time more with nerves than nausea. She took a deep breath, tucking the test in her hand and opening the door. As she stepped out, she found her husband leaning against the counter, his hair tousled from sleep, a soft smile on his face as he sipped from his mug.

“Couldn’t fall back asleep,” she murmured, her voice just above a whisper.

Harry raised an eyebrow, setting down his mug as he studied her face, his expression shifting to one of gentle concern. ”You’ve been off since yesterday, please, just tell me what’s wrong?”

YN took a breath, feeling the weight of the words she was about to speak. She crossed the small space between them, the floorboards creaking softly under her bare feet. Her hands trembled as she reached for his, and he immediately stilled, sensing her unease.

“Don’t freak out, okay?“ She said, her voice breaking ever so slightly.

Harry’s gaze softened, his fingers curling around hers. “Alright,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. “Swear it.”

She swallowed, her eyes dropping to where their hands joined, and finally, she managed to say it. “I’m–” she sighed, “I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air between them, and she felt his hand go still, his thumb pausing mid-stroke. She dared a glance up at his face, and in his eyes, she saw the shock she’d been expecting. His mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.

It was the longest silence she’d ever felt.

And then, slowly, a smile began to break across his face, soft at first, hesitant, but growing. His eyes sparkled with something she hadn’t expected—something gentle and pure, and so, so warm. “You’re… serious?”

She nodded, a soft laugh escaping her lips, a mix of nerves and relief. “Yeah. I know it’s not what we planned, and I—”

Harry pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up tightly as if he never wanted to let go. She felt his heartbeat racing against her cheek, felt the slight tremor in his breath as he held her.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes glassy with emotion. “This is… I mean, I wasn’t expecting this, but…” He paused, his voice catching. “But, YN, this—this is everything.”

A smile broke across her face, the warmth in her chest growing, all her fears melting as she looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

Harry laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. “I’m sure.” His eyes held hers, full of something she could only describe as love beyond anything she’d known before. “I mean, look at us. We’ve done everything backwards and upside down, haven’t we?” He chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Why not this too?”

They laughed together, and in that moment, all her worries felt so small, so distant. Harry pressed his forehead against hers, his hands holding her gently. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “We’re going to be parents?”

YN nodded, her own laughter mingling with tears she hadn’t realized were there. “I guess we are.”

Harry wrapped her up again, his arms strong and sure around her. “Our little family.” He looked around, a spark of excitement lighting his gaze. “The start of everything, right here.”

They stood there, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet of the small cottage, a peacefulness settling over them. The morning light had started to creep in through the windows, casting a soft glow over them, and for a moment, the world felt perfectly still.

But as the initial excitement settled, the reality of the situation hit her hard. Morning sickness, which was more like all day sickness for YN, kicked in with a vengeance. She wondered what crime she may have committed in a past life to deserve such a karma.

She spent most of her mornings hunched over the toilet, her stomach in knots, while Harry hovered nearby, rubbing her back and murmuring soothing words. “It’ll pass, baby.” He would say, though there was a flicker of worry in his eyes every time she retched.

The first trimester was rough. YN felt exhausted all the time, her body aching and her emotions all over the place. There were days when she could barely keep food down, and the nausea was so overwhelming that she couldn’t even stand the smell of Harry’s cologne.

But through it all, he was a constant source of support. He made her ginger tea in the mornings, rubbed her feet when they swelled, and stayed up late with her on the nights when she couldn’t sleep. He even held her hair back during the worst bouts of sickness, never once complaining or losing his patience.

Still, telling their friends and family was daunting. Anne had been thrilled, of course, immediately launching into grandma mode, talking about knitting booties and baby blankets. But YN worried about telling the public. Harry had always been fiercely protective of their privacy, and the idea of sharing something so intimate with the world felt overwhelming.

“I don’t want people to think anything bad of me.” She admitted to him one night as they lay in bed. She had spent the entire day feeling nauseous, and her nerves were frayed.

Harry propped himself up on one elbow, looking at her with a gentle smile. “No one’s going to think like that, baby.. And if they do, then screw ‘em. This is our family. No one else’s.”

His words, simple as they were, helped ease some of the anxiety gnawing at her. They would announce it when they were ready, and in the meantime, they would enjoy these private, intimate moments together.

A few weeks later, when YN was finally starting to feel a little better, they gathered their closest friends and family to tell them the news. Harry’s friend’s were among the first to know. They had gathered at their place in London, a casual get-together that didn’t feel too obvious or formal.

Jeff had been the first to catch on, his brow furrowing as he noticed YN sipping ginger ale instead of her usual glass of wine on occasions like these. “Wait a minute…” he began, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he glanced between them. Oh God, you’re pregnant aren’t you?”

The room fell silent for a moment as Harry and YN exchanged a glance, a grin tugging at Harry’s lips. “Surprise!”

The room erupted into chaos. Mitch nearly fell out of his chair, laughing and shouting congratulations at the same time. Pauli looked like he might cry, and Sarah immediately started teasing Harry about how he’d better get used to sleepless nights.

“You two are gonna be knackered for the next eighteen years,” she quipped, though there was a deep affection in her eyes as she clapped Harry on the back. “But you’ll be great parents. I know it.”

As the weeks continued to pass and YN’s belly began to show, Harry’s excitement seemed to grow right along with it. He took over more and more of the household chores, practically hovering over her with a devotion that was both endearing and—just occasionally—a little over the top. But that was Harry; he never did anything halfway, and preparing to become a dad was no exception.

One evening, after a long day, they lay in bed, YN nestled against Harry’s chest as he rested a hand on her belly. His fingers traced slow, absentminded circles over her small bump, his gaze softening as he looked down at her.

“Have y’thought about names?” he asked quietly, voice almost a murmur. There was a trace of wonder in his eyes, as if he were asking the question for the first time.

She smiled, shrugging lightly. The idea of names had been floating around in her mind for a while, but nothing had quite felt right yet. “Mm, I’ve got a few in mind,” she said with a teasing glint in her eye. “Think I’m just gonna call ’em Fetus for now.”

Harry let out a laugh, his face lighting up as he shook his head. “Poor kid,” he said, voice full of warmth. He shifted lower, pressing a soft kiss to her belly. “Fetus Styles,” he whispered against her skin, his lips brushing her gently, sending a spark of laughter through her.

Her smile never faltered, fingers combing through his curls as he settled his head on her bump, gazing up at her through his lashes. He held her gaze for a moment, then suddenly broke into a grin, blowing raspberries onto her belly with glint in his eye.

She laughed, Harry faltering into her growing tummy as his phone began to ting with a mess of texts. He grabbed his phone that lay upon his wife’s thighs, sitting up beside her against the headboard with a wide smile as the phone illuminated his face.

She knit her eyebrows together, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Who has you smiling?”

He unlocked his phone, “Lou. I told him I had to talk to him tonight.”

She laughed as Harry clicked on the contact, pressing the facetime icon as the ringing filled the air. “It’s what..?” She trailed off, flickering her eyes in thought. “Noon in LA? Surprised he’s even up.”

After a beat, the screen flashed to life, and there he was—Louis, bleary-eyed, half-sprawled across his couch, nursing a mug of tea. He squinted at the screen, a smirk forming as he took them both in.

“Bloody ‘ell, look at you two all cozy!” He drawled, taking a sip. “Thought I was interrupting somethin’.” He chuckled, giving them a teasing wink.

Harry rolled his eyes, holding the phone between them. “Shut up. We’re just havin’ a quiet night in.” He glanced over at YN, then back at the screen, his grin a little wider. “‘Nd I needed to talk t’you, yeah?”

Louis’s smirk softened, curiosity lighting up his expression. “Right. What’s this then?”

He took a quick breath, almost unable to keep the smile off his face as he turned the phone back to YN, who gave Louis a warm smile before glancing at Harry. He squeezed her shoulder, then looked back to the screen, letting the words tumble out. “We’re havin’ a baby!”

For a moment, Louis just stared, the mug paused halfway to his lips as he absorbed the words. His mouth broke into a grin, and he let out a laugh. “Oi, you’re pullin’ my leg!” He leaned closer, shaking his head. “Wait, wait, you’re serious, aren’t ya?”

“Dead serious,” YN said, her voice gentle as she leaned in closer to Harry. “We’ve known for a few weeks now, but wanted to tell you ourselves.”

He sat up straighter, rubbing a hand over his face as he took it in, his grin somehow widening. “Jesus, Haz. A dad,” he mused, a playful sparkle in his eye. “I mean, didn’t see this comin’ back when you were too busy worryin’ about a pair of blue suede shoes to think about nappies.”

Harry let out a laugh, playfully nudging YN. “See, I’m just followin’ y’example, mate.”

Louis snorted, giving a mock scowl. “Better be—Freddie’s halfway to graduating high school it feels like. You’ve got some catchin’ up to do.” He settled back into the couch, softening as he looked at them both. “But seriously, this is brilliant, you two. Gonna make one hell of a mum and dad, aren’t ya?”

Harry glanced over at YN, his gaze lingering, soft and full of a quiet pride. “Hope so,” he said, smiling down at her before turning back to Louis. “Just been… sittin’ with it. So many things I wanna teach ’em, y’know?”

“Best get started on that lullaby playlist, then,” Lou teased, though there was warmth in his tone. “Bet you’re already plannin’ that first guitar lesson.”

YN laughed, rubbing a hand over her belly. “It’s just been a whirlwind, honestly. We haven’t even found out the gender yet.”

Louis grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Surprise ’n all? Makes it even better. Though if y’need tips on anythin’, I’ve got all the dad tricks—like what not to say when they’re askin’ questions in front of their mum.”

“Great,” Harry chuckled. “Start a whole book for me, will ya?”

Lou winked, lifting his mug. “Already makin’ notes. First chapter’s on nappies and the art of avoidin’ baby food on your shirt.” Then, his expression softened as he leaned closer. “Nah, for real. Couldn’t be happier for you two. And for that kid, too. Already got the best start with you both.”

Harry swallowed, his hand finding YN’s, giving it a gentle squeeze as he held his friend’s gaze through the screen. “Means a lot, you’ll be his grumpy, old uncle, yeah?”

Louis grinned, nodding with a playful glint in his eye. “Best be—I’ll have ’em singin’ the chorus to No Control by the time I’m done. YN, darling, don’t you worry—I’ll keep him in line.”

YN chuckled, leaning her head on Harry’s shoulder. “I’ll hold you to that, Lou.”

“Damn right you will,” Louis shot back, settling back against his couch, eyes full of pride and a mischievous excitement. “And when I’m back over, s’gonna be you two doin’ the nappies, while I teach that kid how to annoy his dad.”

Harry feigned a groan, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Cheers, mate.” Louis raised his mug, a glimmer of something genuine in his gaze. “Can’t wait. Love you both, yeah?”

Harry grinned, feeling the weight of Louis’s words. “Love you, too, Lou. Cheers.”

And as they hung up, YN nestled closer, both of them feeling the joy of sharing their secret with someone who’d been there for it all.

A few months had passed, and YN was officially eighteen weeks pregnant. The kitchen was quiet, filled with the warm scent of vanilla as Harry carefully set a single white cupcake on the counter. He’d insisted on something private, just the two of them. No big reveal party or confetti—just a simple cupcake with the surprise hidden inside. YN stood beside him, hands resting on her bump, a grin tugging at her lips as she watched him fuss over it.

“You’re really gonna make me cry over a cupcake, aren’t you?” she teased, nudging him lightly.

Harry’s eyes sparkled as he looked over at her, dimples deepening. “Just y’wait.” He handed her the small knife, his fingers brushing hers, and his voice softened. “Ready?”

She nodded, her heartbeat picking up as she sliced through the cupcake. Slowly, she pulled the two halves apart, then stared down at the filling inside.

Bright green.

For a moment, they both froze, staring down in complete confusion. Harry tilted his head, mouth slightly open, brow furrowed as he looked at her, then back at the cupcake. “Uh… m’pretty sure green wasn’t one of the options.”

YN snorted, a laugh bubbling out as she lifted the cupcake up to inspect it. “Maybe they’re tellin’ us we’re having a little Niall?”

Harry’s eyes crinkled as he burst into laughter, clutching his chest. “God help us if there’s a little Irish guitar player in there.”

She grinned, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “You think they’ll come out singin’ ‘Mull of Kintyre’?”

Harry laughed, covering his face with his hand. “First words’ll be potato, just y’watch.” He shook his head, still chuckling. “This is what we get for trustin’ a bloody cupcake.”

She rolled her eyes, reaching for her bag on the counter. “Should’ve gone with the doctor’s letter instead of dessert.” After a moment of rummaging, she triumphantly held up the small, folded envelope, smiling. “Alright, now you ready?”

Harry nodded, moving closer, his hand resting gently over hers as she slowly unfolded the paper. They both took a breath, glancing at each other before reading the bold, printed words inside.

Right underneath a blurry ultrasound picture printed onto the visit summary, there it was written.

Fetal sex: Male

For a heartbeat, they both just stared at the words, the realization washing over them like a warm tide.

“A little boy,” Harry murmured, his voice filled with awe as he shook his head in disbelief. “We’re gonna have a son.”

YN’s eyes sparkled as she looked at him, a wide smile breaking across her face. “A son,” she repeated softly, her hand covering his on her belly. Already, she could see him—a little boy with Harry’s eyes, his laughter, his kindness.

Harry swallowed, his own eyes misty as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, then resting his against hers. “Think we’re ready for him?”

She let out a soft laugh, brushing away a tear. “Not even close,” she whispered, her fingers lacing with his over her belly. “But I think we’ll do just fine.”

It was mid February by this point, a few weeks after celebrating Harry’s twenty-fifth birthday. The air had a sharp chill, and YN readjusted Harry’s oversized hoodie that hung off her growing frame, something that hid her bump well. They were dressed comfy and warm, Harry in a pair of sunnies with his hoodie pulled over his head. She nestled closer into her husband as they walked through the quiet side streets of London. They’d just finished lunch at their favorite café, savoring the rare chance to slip out together unnoticed. She pulled the hoodie over her head as a gust of wind brushed by.

“Wish we had days like this more often,” Harry murmured, his fingers lacing through hers as they made their way back to the car. “Just us, y’know?”

She smiled, leaning into him. “You mean just the two of us and fetus?”

Harry squeaked out a laugh that sounded like the ones from his early days in the x-factor, squeezing her hand. “Right, fetus. Can’t forget our little tagalong now.”

But as they turned onto the next street, something shifted—a distant hum of voices, then a sharp click of a camera. Before they could react, the quiet street filled with flashes, and a group of paparazzi materialized around them, spilling onto the sidewalk.

It wasn’t a swarm, just about five or so that were tipped off about Harry walking about the city in a pair of sunnies, as if that could keep him hidden.

“Harry! Harry! Just one photo!” A bald man shouted, pushing forward. The camera flashes came in rapid succession, blinding in the midday light.

He immediately shifted, drawing YN closer to his side, his hand protectively resting into her waist as he tried to steer her forward. “Alright, mate, that’s close enough,” he called out, his voice tense but calm.

“Harry, are the rumors true?” another voice shouted, barely inches from them, more cameras held up like a barrier.

“Just please let us through, yeah?” Harry’s voice was firmer now, his hand moving to shield YN’s face, pressing her into his chest as the crowd closed in tighter.

A jostle from the side sent her stumbling, and Harry’s arm tightened around her, his jaw clenched. “Hey, enough!” he barked, his voice sharper than she’d ever heard it. He guided her forward, his body acting as a buffer as he tried to clear a path.

“Just one shot, Harry!” a paparazzo persisted, his lens pointed squarely at YN, his hand cupping her cheek as he pressed her face further into his chest, her heart pounding as she held onto Harry.

He shot a glare of his shoulder, jaw clenched as he remained silent, maneuvering his wife past the cameras, his hand never leaving her. He kept his eyes trained ahead as he led her through the last stretch to his car.

Finally reaching the door, he opened it for her, a quick but steady gesture, ushering her in and following right after. The cameras pressed in one last time as he shut the door firmly, finally sealing them off from the swarm outside.

Inside, the car was quiet, insulated from the chaos that still buzzed outside, windows tinted as legally possible. YN let out a shaky breath, her hands in her hoodie pocket as she glanced over at Harry. His face was flushed, a mix of worry and lingering frustration in his eyes.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice gentler now, his hand pulling hers out of the pocket, thumb brushing over her knuckles as he studied her face.

She nodded with a faint smile, trying to steady herself. “Not our first rodeo, H.” She tried to joke. And it was true, it surely wasn’t the first time they’ve been bombarded by paps. YN wasn’t famous prior to meeting Harry, a smart girl as beautiful as she, he simply couldn’t ignore.

She was a friend of Anne’s best friend’s daughter, bumping into each other at a family gathering in 2014, immediately becoming close friends. He offered her a ride home that night, and when she thanked him profusely and offered to give him gas money, he knew then and there he was going to fall in love with this woman.

Fans and paps galore started delving into her life in late 2015, when a grainy picture of them kissing at a bar after a London show exploded on twitter. Since then, she always known about the lack of privacy in Harry’s life. And honestly, she’s still trying to adjust to it.

He exhaled, his fingers tightening around hers. “Hate that they got that close to you. Wish they’d just..” He trailed off, clenching his jaw as he glanced out the window, his gaze hardening when he saw the cameras still lingering in the distance.

She squeezed his hand, her voice soft. “It’s alright, baby. I’m alright.” She could see the tension in his shoulders slowly easing, though he still held her hand as if anchoring himself. “They don’t know, and that’s okay for now. It’s just us, remember?”

Harry nodded as he pulled from the curb, driving down the narrow street toward the red light. He turned back to her, his green eyes softening, and he nodded slowly. “Just us. Right.” His shoulders relaxed a little more, a trace of a smile returning to his face as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead while the light was still red.

But before he could pull away, she let out a small gasp, eyes widening as she felt a firm, insistent little nudge low on her belly. She looked up at him, her own hand moving instinctively to her bump.

Green illuminated over them, a honking echoing from behind as he froze in concern. “What?” He breathed, turning a corner to head to the grocery store in the distance, seeking a temporary refuge in the parking lot. He glanced between YN and the road, heart beating in his ears. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He raised his voice, though it wasn’t out of anger, just an anxiety that threatened to boil over.

She shook her head, her face breaking into a soft smile. “Nothing’s wrong, Harry. He just kicked.”

Harry’s eyes lit up instantly, his frustration melting away as he stared at her, a grin forming slowly. “He did?”

She nodded, pulling his hand to her belly as he parked. “Right here. Just now.”

He held his breath, his palm pressed against her bump, waiting. And there it was again—a tiny but unmistakable kick, nudging firmly against his hand.

Harry’s face broke into a radiant smile, his whole expression softening with awe. “Oi, there’s my little striker,” he mused, his voice thick with affection as he looked down at her belly. “We’ll have you in a Man United kit before you’re out of nappies, won’t we?”

She laughed, his words melting away the last traces of tension from the encounter outside. “Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you? Picking his team and all?”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling with pure excitement. “No chance he’ll be an Arsenal player.. First kicks mean we’ve got a future midfielder on our hands, yeah?” He grinned, “Dads gonna make sure y’got the right colors on you, bub.”

YN couldn’t help but laugh, her heart swelling as she watched the joy take over his face. She reached up, tucking a curl behind his ear, her fingers lingering against his cheek. “He’s already got you wrapped around his tiny little foot.”

Harry chuckled, leaning in to kiss her, his hand still resting against her belly, feeling another small nudge. “S’pose I’ll let him get away with it. Just this once.”

*

March arrived in a blink.

It was early, the kind of early that still belonged to the night, when Harry’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. The world outside was still draped in darkness, the streets silent, as if London itself hadn’t quite woken up. Harry stirred, slowly pulled from the depths of sleep by the vibration of his phone. He squinted in the dim light, his vision blurry, barely able to make out the name on the screen. Jeff.

With a quiet sigh, Harry picked up the phone, pressing it to his ear and trying to shake off the last bits of sleep that clung to him. He glanced over to YN, who lay nestled beside him, her breathing soft and even, lost in a peaceful slumber. Gently, he reached out and brushed his fingers along her cheek, a tired but adoring smile tugging at his lips. She stirred slightly, her head nuzzling into his hand, and he felt a warmth rise in his chest. Moments like this felt sacred, untouched by the outside world.

But then Jeff’s voice broke through the stillness, sharp and apologetic.

“Harry,” Jeff said, his tone low and serious, as if he wished he were calling for any other reason. “Listen, I hate to do this to you, but we’ve got a situation.”

Harry straightened, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. “What is it, mate?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, unwilling to wake YN just yet. He kept his hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing gently along her skin, grounding himself as he listened.

“There’s a magazine,” Jeff continued with a hesitant sigh. “They got photos of you and YN leaving the clinic yesterday after the ultrasound. They’re planning to release them tomorrow—noon sharp.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Harry’s jaw tightened after he took a shaky breath, his eyes falling back on YN, still blissfully asleep. They’d planned everything so carefully, wanting to share the news of their son on their own terms. They’d waited for the perfect moment, wanting to protect this piece of their life from the relentless intrusion of the outside world. And now, it was slipping out of their hands.

“Tomorrow?” he murmured, his heart pounding. He felt a surge of anger rising, and he closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. Jeff waited in silence on the other end of the line, letting him process the news.

“Yeah,” Jeff said softly. “I wanted to give you a heads-up. Figured you’d want to tell people yourselves, do it in a way that feels right.”

Harry nodded, even though Jeff couldn’t see him, his fingers still resting on YN’s cheek, feeling the soft warmth of her skin. “Thanks, Jeff,” he finally whispered, his voice tight. “I’ll–erm–we’ll figure it out.”

He ended the call and placed the phone back on the table, his shoulders slumping as he tried to process what to do next. He looked down at YN, her face peaceful in the darkness, and he felt a pang of guilt at the thought of waking her. She deserved this moment of rest, free from worry and the weight of the world pressing in on them. But he knew he couldn’t keep this from her. Not when it was about their son.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his hand moving to cradle her cheek as he murmured softly, “Baby, wake up.”

She stirred, her brows knitting together as she blinked up at him, still half-asleep, a faint smile gracing her lips as she registered his face. “H?” she whispered, her voice groggy and warm. “What time is it?”

“Too early,” he murmured, his own voice weighed down by the news he had to deliver. “Sorry t’wake you, but there’s something we need t‘talk about.”

Her eyes focused, a flicker of concern replacing the drowsiness as she sat up a bit, her hand resting on his. “What’s wrong?”

Harry took a deep breath, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “It’s the pictures,” he paused with a sigh, “from yesterday, after our appointment. Paparazzi took photos, and they’re planning to release them by noon tomorrow.”

The weight of his words settled over her, and she let out a quiet sigh, her gaze dropping to the bed. They’d known this was a possibility—their lives were never entirely private—but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. She leaned into his touch, her fingers lacing through his as they both sat there in the stillness of the early morning, grappling with the realization that their hand was being forced.

“What do we do?” she asked softly, looking up at him with a mixture of worry and sadness.

Harry’s hand moved to hold hers, his grip gentle but steady. “We tell everyone ourselves. Today. We’ll release it before they can, on our own terms.” He paused, his voice softening. “It’s not what we planned, but, at least we can still share him with the world our way.”

YN gave him a small nod, her eyes meeting his with a quiet resilience. They both knew they didn’t have any other choice. She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they took a moment to steady themselves, finding strength in each other.

“Okay,” she murmured after a beat. “I trust you.”

They spent the next hour in the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom, talking about how to share the news. Eventually, Harry decided on something simple, something that would feel personal without giving too much away. He reached for his phone and opened the photo gallery, scrolling until he found the ultrasound image from their last appointment. It was a grainy black-and-white shot, but to him, it was beautiful—a glimpse of their son, small and precious, already loved beyond measure.

He glanced at YN, who gave him a reassuring nod, and then he took a deep breath, opening Instagram. With his fingers hovering over the screen, he crafted the caption, choosing each word carefully, his heart pounding in his chest.

I’ve been waiting to share this part of our journey with you all for a while now. YN and I are expecting a son, and we couldn’t be happier to welcome him into the world soon. Thank you for your love and support—can’t wait for you to meet him.

Love, H

He read it over, then looked at YN, who leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She gave him a small smile, her fingers brushing his arm. “It’s perfect, baby”

With a final deep breath, he hit post, setting the phone down and letting out a long, steadying exhale. They sat there in the quiet of their room, wrapped up in each other as the reality of what they’d just done settled over them. This was the first time they were sharing their son with the world, and it felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

Within moments, notifications began to flood in, messages of excitement, love, and support from fans around the world who had been waiting eagerly for news like this. Harry glanced at YN, his hand finding hers once more as he gave her a small, relieved smile.

”Cats out’v the bag.” He laughed softly.

She leaned into him, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “They love you, H. They’ll love him, too.” She reassured.

As the sun finally began to rise outside their window, casting a gentle warmth over the room, Harry held her close, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t expected. Despite the forced timing, despite the circumstances, they had done this together. And from this moment on, they would continue this journ, hand in hand, as a family.

Weeks passed by, and it another chilly March evening, and soft candlelight flickered in the bathroom, casting a warm glow over the walls as steam rose lazily from the tub. The couple sat tucked into the water, surrounded by a mountain of bubbles that floated between them. The bathroom was cozy as Harry’s arms wrapped around her from behind, she leaned back against his chest, her bump nestled between them.

He’d insisted on running the bath for her, adding just the right amount of lavender oil to soothe her muscles, and now they were enveloped in that warm, calming scent, the soft sounds of water lapping around them. Harry’s hands rested gently on her belly, his fingers tracing light circles over the stretched skin as he hummed contentedly, clearly lost in thought.

After a few minutes of quiet, he dipped his head to press a kiss to her shoulder, murmuring, “You know, we haven’t really settled on a name yet.”

YN grinned, biting back a laugh. "Sure we have. Fetus Styles—don’t you remember?”

Harry groaned dramatically, his head falling back against the tub. "God help this boy."

She chuckled, turning her head to look at him. "Fine, fine. So, what do you have in mind, love?"

Harry hummed thoughtfully, his fingers still tracing light circles over her bump. "I dunno. Something that isn’t Fetus or something basic, like David.”

"Otis?" she suggested with a playful smirk. She knew he hated the name.

He snorted, his chest vibrating against her back, shaking his head. "Baby, Otis is the name of that big slobbery dog at the park. Our son deserves better than being named after a drool machine."

She playfully splashed a few bubbles toward him, her laughter filling the room.. "Alright, alright. So, we're vetoing Otis and Fetus, oh wise one.”

“Good,” he said, lowering his head ever so slightly and nibbling her shoulders gently. “So, what else is on your list, then?”

She leaned her head back against his shoulder, looking up at the ceiling as she tried to recall some of the names she’d been turning over in her mind. “I do like Ezra.”

“Ezra,” he repeated, as if tasting the sound of it. “It’s alright. But it sounds like he’d be in a jazz band or something.”

“Maybe he’ll be in a jazz band,” she countered, grinning as she nudged his arm. “A little musician just like his dad.”

Harry hummed, his fingers lightly drumming a rhythm against her belly. “Alright, fair point. Ezra can be a maybe. What else?”

She let out a thoughtful hum, swirling her hand through the bubbles. “What about August?”

“August’s alright I guess,” he said slowly, tilting his head as he considered it. “But I don’t know. August Styles..feels like he’d be a mischievous little troublemaker.”

“Like his dad, you mean?” she teased, glancing up at him with a knowing smile.

He grinned, shrugging. “If he takes after me, he’ll definitely be one,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But I dunno. Still doesn’t feel quite right. But I do like the idea of an A name.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each of them lost in their thoughts as the water lapped softly around them. Harry’s hands moved back to her belly, his touch gentle and reverent, as if he were trying to connect with their son through the warm water and the growing curve of her bump. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the warmth of the bath and the feeling of his arms around her.

After a while, Harry spoke again, his voice soft and thoughtful. “What about Atlas?”

YN opened her eyes, blinking up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “Atlas?”

“Yeah.” He shifted slightly, his hand still resting on her belly as he looked at her, his eyes warm. “It’s strong, y’know? Unique. I like the idea of him having a name that feels like he could carry the world if he wanted to.”

YN let the name settle, repeating it to herself, and feeling it take root, becoming more than just a word. “Atlas Styles,” she said softly, letting the sound roll off her tongue. “It fits him, I think. Strong like his kicks.” She giggled.

Harry’s face lit up as he grinned down at her, his dimples deepening, a twinkle of something unspoken sparking in his eyes. “Exactly,” he murmured, trailing a hand gently over her bump. “Atlas Styles. Got the name of a proper legend already. Manchester United should be countin’ themselves lucky.”

YN laughed again, rolling her eyes as she turned to face him. “Oh, really? Our boy is still going to save Manchester United, is he?”

“Obviously,” Harry said, his grin widening. “Just imagine it—Atlas Styles, midfield maestro, dominating the pitch. The crowd chanting his name.” He mimics the sound of a roaring crowd in a hush, “‘Atlas! Atlas!” He chanted in a whisper, “United will have never seen anything like him. They’d be winning the league every season with a name like that.”

She shook her head, fighting a laugh as she slipped a few bubbles onto his nose. “Right, because he won’t be busy enough carrying the world. He’ll just take Manchester United on his back too?”

Harry shrugged, brushing the bubbles away with a look of mock seriousness. “Our little Atlas can handle it all. With a name like that, he’ll be unstoppable.” He leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “But, if he’s not into football, I s’pose that’s alright too.”

YN smiled, squeezing his hand, warmth spreading through her as she thought of their little Atlas and all the dreams they had for him—footballer or not, world-bearer or not, he would be loved beyond measure.

*

The rain pattered softly against the window as April rolled in, casting a gentle gray light over the nursery. YN stood by the door, watching Harry wrestle with the crib pieces scattered across the floor. She cradled her belly, which had grown significantly in the last month. Her due date was set for mid-May, only a few weeks away, and she could feel the weight of their son settling lower, as if he, too, was getting ready for the journey ahead.

Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, brow furrowed in intense concentration as he squinted at the instruction manual. The crib, which he had eagerly declared would be a breeze to assemble, now looked more like puzzle pieces that lay scattered around him, screws and wooden slats in disarray, as he muttered under his breath.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” YN asked with a soft grin, leaning against the doorway as she watched him struggle.

He looked up, shooting her a playful glare. “I’ve got it, thanks,” he insisted, though he seemed far from convinced himself. He twisted a screwdriver, only for the wood to creak ominously in protest. Harry’s cheeks flushed, and YN bit her lip, stifling a laugh.

“Sure you do,” she teased, crossing her arms over her bump. “Maybe our son will be crawling by the time you figure that out.”

Harry chuckled, dropping the screwdriver with a resigned sigh. “Alright, alright,” he said, running a hand through his curls as he gave her a dramatic pout. “Go on, laugh at the man trying his best to be a good dad. Just what I need, huh?”

She laughed, stepping into the room to get a closer look at his progress—or lack thereof. “You’re doing great, honey,” she said, her tone light. “Maybe just… not great at building cribs?”

He rolled his eyes, but the hint of a grin played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue,” he mumbled. Then, before she could respond, he reached out, gently tugging her down to sit beside him.

“Hey!” she gasped, though she let him guide her down, leaning into his arms. Her back rested against his chest, and Harry wrapped his arms around her middle, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

He maneuvered her gently onto the carpet, hovering over as his hands resting on either side of her, leaning close, his face only inches from hers, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe I should distract you so y’can’t mock me,” he murmured, his voice teasing.

Before she could respond, he started peppering her face with kisses—one on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her chin. She squealed, laughing as he continued, his lips brushing against her skin, his stubble tickling her and sending her into a fit of giggles.

“Harry!” she gasped between breaths, her hands on his shoulders as she tried to squirm away. “You’re ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous?” he repeated, grinning as he planted a kiss just above her lips. “Maybe. But it’s working, isn’t it?”

She gave him a playful shove, but he only laughed, pulling her closer as he trailed his kisses down to her neck, the weight of him comforting as he hovered over her, his hands gentle on her sides. Finally, when her laughter had softened, he leaned back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze warm and full of affection.

God, how he loved her.

After a moment, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. “Alright,” he said with a sigh, glancing over at the mess of crib parts. “Maybe I could use those hands of yours.”

YN smiled, brushing her hand down his chest. “Hm,” she hummed, “where?”

“Oi!” The brunette giggled, swatting her wandering hand away as he sat up, shifting to be beside her. “Wicked woman, you are. Get to work.”

She huffed, although there was no anger residing in her. Maybe an ache between her thighs, but that’s something she could sort out with her husband later. She sat up, sitting cross legged beside Harry as he reached for the instruction manual.

The two of them sat side by side on the nursery floor, her hand resting over his as they sorted through the crib parts. Harry studied the instructions once more, pointing out the next few steps with a renewed confidence that was helped by her steady presence beside him. YN held the pieces steady while Harry carefully tightened each screw, the two of them working together, their laughter filling the room whenever something went slightly wrong.

Finally, after some teamwork, a bit of trial and error, and more than a few shared smiles, they placed the last piece into place, and the crib stood finished in front of them. They both sat back, admiring their handiwork, their hands intertwined as they took in the sight of the nursery coming together, piece by piece.

Harry looked over at YN, his gaze soft as he took in her face, still flushed from laughter. “Not bad for a couple of first-timers, huh?”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, holding her hands out in front of them and wiggling her fingers. “Thanks to these.”

He snorted, gently taking her chin in his grasp to force her to look at him. “Shut up and kiss me.”

As time passed by quicker than ever, spring took the city by full force, it was finally May. Flowers bloomed in their garden, trees shook with the delicate breeze of a looming summer. The sun fell behind the hills later and later, still offering a golden glow as they ate dinner.

A gentle rain drummed against the windows as YN and Harry shared a cozy dinner on the sofa, the warm light of a movie and fading sunlight flickering across their faces. They were nestled together, plates balanced on laps (and bump) as they laughed at an old comedy. Outside, the world felt comfortably distant. Everything about this moment felt ordinary, like the calm before a long-anticipated storm.

But YN hadn’t been entirely honest with Harry tonight. She had felt a dull ache creeping into her lower back and belly since late afternoon, a sensation she had brushed off as yet another round of Braxton Hicks contractions. Her OB had warned her that false alarms would be common in these final weeks, and she’d already had a few where they’d rushed to the hospital only to be sent back home. So tonight, she’d told herself that it was nothing—just her body practicing, nothing more. But as they watched the movie, she found herself shifting uncomfortably, her breaths deepening whenever another wave rolled through her.

The contractions had grown stronger as they ate, each one hitting her lower back with a dull, throbbing ache before tightening sharply across her belly. She bit her lip, forcing a smile whenever Harry glanced her way, trying to play it off. But she couldn’t ignore the way her body tensed or the cold bead of sweat she felt on her brow as she worked to stay composed.

As they finished their dinner, Harry stretched and stood, gathering their plates with a grin. “Think I’ll wash these up. You just sit there and relax, yeah?”

She smiled, nodding as he carried their dishes into the kitchen. He hummed softly to himself as he washed the plates, oblivious to the intensity of the pain building within her. She took a deep breath, gripping the edge of the sofa as a new wave hit, this one sharper than before, radiating from her lower back and spreading between her hips, each pulse making her muscles contract and tighten. She fought to keep her breathing steady, her mind racing as she tried to convince herself it was nothing.

But then, as she watched Harry rinse a glass, her vision blurred with another wave of pain—deeper, sharper, as if her body was tightening from the inside out. Her breath hitched, and this time she couldn’t hide the small gasp that escaped her. She braced herself against the sofa, her fingers digging into the fabric as she fought to breathe through it.

Harry looked over, his brow furrowing as he noticed the tension on her face. He set the glass down in the sink, wiping his hands on a towel as he stepped back into the living room. “Love?” he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. “You alright?”

She forced a smile, trying to play it off, but her voice came out strained. “I’m fine. Just–“ She grunted, “Braxton Hicks, I think.” But even as she spoke, it was like an aftershock of an earthquake, stealing her breath, the pain sharper than before. Her hand flew to her belly, fingers pressing down instinctively, and she had to close her eyes, focusing all her energy on breathing through it.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he knelt beside her, his hand moving to rest on her knee. “That doesn’t look like Braxton Hicks,” he said gently, his voice laced with concern. “How long’s this been going on?”

She hesitated, looking down as she tried to keep her breathing composed. “Since– since earlier this afternoon,” she admitted, wincing as the pain reached its peak, leaving her feeling helpless and raw. “I thought it was nothing, really. But it’s–I dunno– it’s getting worse.”

Harry’s face shifted from concern to something closer to alarm. He was quiet for a moment, clearly trying to process her words, before his gaze softened, and he slid his hand to hers, squeezing it gently. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice steadying. “We’re not going to take any chances.”

YN nodded, relief flooding her at the calm resolve in his voice, but as she tried to stand, another contraction gripped her—this time harder than any before. It started as a dull ache that quickly sharpened into an almost searing pressure, as though her whole belly was clenching in waves she couldn’t control. She gasped, her knees buckling slightly as she clutched Harry’s arm.

Harry’s eyes widened as he caught her, his face shifting into a worried frown. “It’s happening, isn’t it?” he whispered, almost to himself, before shaking off the shock and focusing on her. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her back down to the sofa with a gentle firmness. “We’re going t’breathe through this one, yeah? Just like we practiced.”

She clung to his hand, squeezing hard as she fought to steady her breathing, but the pain was relentless, each wave feeling sharper than the last. Her body felt like it was working against her, every muscle tightening until she was gasping, unable to fully catch her breath. She buried her face against his shoulder, her voice a shaky whisper. “H, this hurts more than I thought it would.”

He brushed a hand through her hair, his voice soft but unwavering as he held her close. “I know, baby. You’re doing so well. Just focus on breathing, alright? I’ve got you.”

As the contraction faded, she managed to catch her breath, slumping slightly against him, feeling a mix of exhaustion and dread for what was coming next. She felt his hand at the small of her back, steadying her, and she was grateful for the warmth of his touch, the calm he radiated even as she could see the worry flickering in his eyes.

“We’re calling the OB,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “This doesn’t feel like false labor, does it?”

She shook her head, unable to deny the reality that had settled in. “No..I think this is real.”

Harry’s face softened, a mix of pride and worry as he watched her breathe through everything. When the pain passed, he took her face in his hands, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice steady. “We’re going to get you through this, love. One breath at a time.”

With that, he stood, reaching for his phone and dialing their OB, staying right by her side as the call connected. He answered each of the doctor’s questions carefully, glancing at YN between each answer, his hand never leaving hers. After a few minutes, he hung up and turned back to her, a mixture of excitement and resolve in his gaze.

“She says it sounds like early labor,” he told her softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “We’re going t’the hospital. Just you and me, hm?”

YN nodded, taking a steadying breath as she leaned into him, his strength anchoring her. With Harry’s arms wrapped around her, she knew that she had everything she needed to get through this.

The rain had softened to a gentle drizzle as Harry helped YN into the car, settling her carefully into the passenger seat, his hands gentle but steady. Her breaths were deep and focused, each one an effort to keep herself calm as the contractions continued, not close enough to urge a rush but strong enough to leave her nerves buzzing with anticipation. Harry buckled her in, his gaze warm and reassuring as he brushed his hand over her shoulder.

“You’re doing great, sweet girl,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Next stop, hospital. Just you, me, and our little Atlas.”

YN managed a faint smile, squeezing his hand as he lingered beside her for a moment before closing the door and sliding into the driver’s seat. The car pulled away from their quiet street, its headlights cutting through the misty drizzle, as they made their way into the city. She leaned her head back against the seat, focusing on the rhythm of the rain tapping against the windows, letting the steady sound settle her mind.

As they drove, Harry glanced over at her frequently, his hand occasionally drifting from the wheel to hold hers. “Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Or if I need to pull over. Anything at all.”

He rambled when he was nervous.

YN nodded, keeping her eyes closed, breathing slowly. Another contraction started, gripping her with that same deep ache that radiated from her back to her belly. She clenched his hand, squeezing as she focused on her breathing, her fingers white-knuckling against his. It was painful, but she willed herself to relax, to breathe through the intensity, letting her breath match the gentle rhythm of the rain.

Harry squeezed her hand back, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin. “Out of all women in the world who gave birth, you’re the most beautiful.” He smiled warily. His stupid compliment even made him want to smack himself upside the head. But he looked at his wife expectantly.

When the contraction passed, she released a shaky breath. Part of her wanted to shoot daggers into him with a glare, but looking at that goofy smile she fell in love with, the way his cheeks flushed pink and eyes looked unsure, she couldn’t. She mustered out a weak, breathy laugh.”Shut up.” She whispered.

They reached the hospital, and Harry pulled up to the lot, parking the car before rushing around to help her out. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her through the automatic doors, his gaze steady and protective as he led her to the reception desk. The lobby was quiet, lit by soft fluorescent lights that made the polished floors gleam. Harry gently rubbed her back as they reached the counter, where a man with glasses and a walkie looked up with a polite smile.

“Hi,” Harry said, his voice calm but firm, “we’re here for an admission. Our OB requested it.” He grinned lightly, seeking to be polite despite his nerves. He gave his wife’s name through his smile.

The receptionist nodded, typing something into the computer before glancing back at YN, who was gripping Harry’s hand, her face pale and tense. After a moment, the man looked up. “Alright, we have you here. Just a moment.”

He picked up the phone, speaking briefly with someone before hanging up and nodding toward them. “Patient transport is on the way. We’ll get you into a wheelchair and up to the maternity ward to get settled.”

Harry thanked him, his hand resting on the small of her back, he murmured, “y’doing so well, my sweet girl.”

She leaned into him, exhaling a shaky breath as another mild contraction started to creep in, but before she could fully brace herself, a transport worker arrived with a wheelchair.

Harry helped her ease down into it, kneeling beside her and brushing his thumb over her hand. She looked down at him, her expression a mix of pain and determination. “I’m alright,” she whispered, her words braver than she felt.

He met her gaze, his eyes full of pride and unwavering support. “I know you are,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before he stood and walked beside her as they made their way to the elevator. The ride up was quiet, each floor lighting up in sequence as they ascended to the maternity ward, and she found herself counting each breath, each second, each floor, until they finally reached the unit.

Once inside the labor and delivery ward, they were greeted by a nurse who led them into a dimly lit room that felt strangely peaceful, its walls painted a soft pink, the lights warm and low. The nurse introduced herself, her voice calm and soothing as she helped YN settle onto the bed, helping her into a hospital gown before taking her vital signs and asking a series of questions, jotting down notes while Harry sat by her side, holding her hand.

“Let’s get you as comfortable as we can,” the nurse said gently, adjusting the bed’s settings. “Now, you’re still in early labor, so we’re going to monitor you closely, but it could be a while yet.”

YN nodded, feeling both grateful and anxious at the prospect of waiting. The contractions continued, rolling in like waves, growing in intensity but not yet regular enough to signal active labor. Each one required her full focus; she found herself closing her eyes, breathing deeply as she squeezed Harry’s hand, centering herself with each wave of pain.

Hours passed, the pain deepening with each contraction as her body adjusted, stretching and preparing for the arrival of their son. The nurse checked in periodically, taking notes, adjusting her position, and checking her dilation with gentle reassurance, but progress was slow. The contractions were more frequent now, each one a sharp, relentless pressure that seemed to radiate from deep within her, pulling her to the very edge of her endurance.

Harry never left her side, his hand a steady anchor as he held hers, his voice low and soothing, guiding her through each breath. “I love you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers as they breathed together. “Just a bit longer, yeah? You got it.”

At one point, the pain became so overwhelming that she couldn’t bear to sit still. Harry helped her stand, wrapping his arms around her as she leaned into him, her face pressed against his chest. Her arms draped over his shoulders, clinging to him as she rocked back and forth, swaying through each contraction, finding relief in the gentle rhythm. He whispered words of encouragement, his hands rubbing her back as she trembled against him, each wave of pain stealing her breath and leaving her gasping.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice a steady hum that she latched onto, focusing on the warmth of his words as the pain pulsed through her. “Just lean on me. I’ve got you.”

She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as the pain reached a peak, her knees weakening under the weight of it. But Harry held her up, his arms strong and steady, supporting her fully as she swayed, letting the movement carry her through each contraction. She pressed her forehead into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek, grounding her, keeping her anchored in the storm of pain.

When the nurse checked again, the news was disheartening—only a few more centimeters dilated. YN felt exhaustion beginning to creep in, the hours of labor sapping her strength, but Harry was there, brushing damp strands of hair from her face, whispering soft reassurances as she closed her eyes, her head resting against his shoulder.

As the hours ticked by, the contractions grew sharper, more intense, each one like a wave crashing against her, forcing her to draw deeper into herself just to withstand the pain. Harry eased her back onto the bed, pulling a mask toward her face, releasing a gas that would help the pain. Her mind blurred under the relentless rhythm of labor. Yet, every time she opened her eyes, he was there—his gaze steady, his hand in hers, his words like an anchor.

She held the mask to her face with her other hand, breathing it in deeply. As backward as it sounded, even laboring and pushing out a baby, the thought of a seven inch needle being put into her spine scared her even more. The thought of an epidural was tempting, being numbed from the waist down—but it made her stomach churn with anxiety, too. She had enough of that already, so she stuck to the gas.

YN lifted the gas from her nose, staring at Harry through half lidded eyes. “Can’t wait to have sex with you in six weeks.” She mumbled, her voice hazy.

Harry eased the mask back onto her, his cheeks growing red from her clouded words. He let out a breathy laugh, “Okay, one step at a time, hm?”

At last, as dawn began to break outside, the sunlight bleak, barely there. The nurse’s expression shifted as she checked YN’s progress. She smiled, looking up with gentle relief. “We’re almost there,” she said softly. “Just a little bit longer.”

Harry’s face lit up, his eyes shining as he looked down at YN, his voice soft and full of pride. He pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead, brushing strands of her hair back. “Hear that? Final stretch, baby.”

YN nodded, too exhausted to respond, but the warmth in his eyes gave her the strength to keep going. With every ounce of willpower she had left, she faced the final contractions, the pain almost blinding but her determination carrying her through, and Harry’s voice guiding her every step of the way.

Once she was ten centimeters, a team rushed in. Two nurses and the OB. Her legs were placed into stirrups, her gown bunched up over her tummy.

It was the longest, most intense thirteen hours of her life, but as she felt the final waves of pain, the medical staff guided her through the last moments, she clung to Harry, his hand a lifeline, his presence a comfort that wrapped around her like a shield. And with one last surge, a cry filled the room, and she knew it was all worth it.

“Oh.” She whimpered, her own cry emitting from her as her son was placed onto her bare chest for the first time. A nurse wiped him down as he wriggled against YN, Harry leaning down by her shoulder, staring in awe.

That was his boy, his son. A piece of him and the love of his life brought forth into the world. He wouldn’t be able to explain the feeling he felt as he flickered his gaze between his wife’s and Atlas’s.

Sparse stands of brown locks sat atop his head, a color matching his fathers. He gently placed his hand atop it, his thumb rubbing against his forehead as the little boy continued to cry.

His eyes resembled his mothers, as did his nose. But everything else? That was all Harry. He cooed at him, whispering soft nothings to to his baby boy before the nurse approached him with medical scissors. “Would you like to cut the cord, dad?”

Dad.

Butterflies surged through his tummy.

He drew a deep breath, looking at YN for silent encouragement, to which she only smiled at him. Her husband, the father of her son.

He gently grabbed the scissors from the nurse, hesitantly approaching where he was told to cut. He looked at his Atlas who seemed to calm down a bit, slowly coming to terms with being brought out into the world. He steadied himself, and then with a delicate snip, he cut the cord.

As he handed them back to the nurse, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the enormity of the moment settling over him. He looked down at the two he loved most in the world, lightly grasping onto his little feet and silently counting his tiny toes.

“Sit.” YN softly ordered, holding the boy against her chest with one hand and patting the small spot beside her with the other.

He nodded slowly, easing himself down into the spot after lowering the right side bar so he’d fit. He leaned against YN, his feet still upon the floor.

The baby was swaddled into a pale blue blanket before she handed him over to Harry, his heart melting instantly. He cradled him against his chest, tucking his head down to place delicate kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. “I love you so much.” He whispered, hesitantly ripping his gaze away from his son onto his wife.

His lip quivered as he placed a kiss against her sweaty hair, “Thank you so much.” His voice was delicate, a murmur. “I owe you everything.”

This was all he needed. His heart swelled with a love so profound, it felt almost overwhelming, as if the sheer depth of it might consume him. It was a love that stretched beyond anything he’d known, powerful enough to break him apart and put him back together all at once. But he embraced it, letting it fill every part of him, savoring each precious drop. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt exactly where he was meant to be.

This was home.

[gigi-loveless]

summary - loser!roommate!ellie gets you a special new toy.

warnings - smut (duh), use of vibrator, very very light degradation

authors note - this has been sitting in my drafts for like two months 😭 anyways!! requests are open!

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

loser!roommate!ellie who is obsessed with toys. and i mean obsessed.

new packages are always on your doorstep from some sketchy ass website, triple wrapped with duct tape. curiously, you peer over her shoulder while she flips out her pocket knife and digs it into the box, breaking the seal with ease.

"what is it, els?" you ponder, brushing your hand over her shoulder sensually.

"shh. you'll see..." she nearly whispers, plucking the small, purple toy out of the box. thighs rubbing together in anticipation, you tilt your head at the oddly shaped item, as ellie smirks at you.

“so this….is a phone controlled vibrator."

oh.

~

“els…..” you mewl out, reaching your fourth orgasm of the night. the knot in your stomach pulsed, the aching becoming unbearable, vision going fuzzy.

“hold it.” she answers nonchalantly, not even bothering to look up from her phone to see the pathetic mess you’ve made before her. scrolling just to flip back to the app for a moment to turn the vibrator up to an agonizing high, pretending to wipe her mouth to cover her shit eating smirk.

“this was just to test it out….i’m supposed to take you out when you can barely behave yourself here?” she chuckles, her fingers drumming against her thigh.

the moans you were suppressing were absolutely sinful to keep to yourself, though ellie urged you to be quiet. just to make things interesting, you let out a pornographic whine, throwing your head back in pleasure. the room goes quiet for a moment, besides the trill of the tv.

“mm…..” ellie hums out, running her fingers through her auburn locks, gesturing her head towards the tv. “js’ watch your show, princess.”

suddenly, the steady, reliable trill of the toy began to pulse erratically against your puffy, throbbing clit, your back arching into it involuntarily. chanting her name like a prayer, your high is approaching quickly, guttural whines finally escaping the confines of your throat.

“thought you were better than that angel….” ellie tuts, taunting you as she strips of her boxers, her favorite light blue strap sitting snugly on her hips.

pt. 2….? this was supposed to just be a drabble but i got carried away oops!

join my taglist!

@ellies2missingfingers @ellieslob @elliewilliamsloverrrrrrr

[itneverendshere]

it's all you're good for, right? - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

rafe knew you wouldn’t take his disrespect lightly.

you never did.  

he’d expected you to blow up the second he pulled that ignoring shit at the dinning. he was ready for it—your texts coming in hot, maybe you showing up at his house, ready to tear into him like you always did when he pushed too far. he'd never say it out loud, but a part of him almost liked it, the way you’d get all fired up, spitting mad. it was hot.

but you didn’t call. not a single text. you didn’t show up to the party that weekend, and when he tried to hit you up, just looking for a booty call—because fuck, he was so hard thinking about you—it went straight to voicemail. he stared at his phone like an idiot, calling again. blocked.

you? block him? nah, that wasn’t supposed to happen. rafe was the one with the power here, or at least, that’s how it used to be. it was always this push and pull, but he was the one pulling the strings, right? no fucking pogue was ever going to order him around. right?

wrong. the next weekend rolls around, and there you are at one of his parties, looking good as ever, laughing with your friends like nothing happened. and still, not even a glance his way. for two weeks now, you’ve been completely ignoring him, and it’s starting to get under his skin. more than it should.

he watches you from across the yard like a fucking creep, sipping his drink and trying to act like he doesn’t give a fuck, but inside, he’s low-key losing it. he half-expected you to walk right up to him and give him hell like you always do. but no, you’re just... doing your own thing. 

but what’s really making his head spin is what you're wearing. the outfit is pure trouble—skin-tight and leaving almost nothing to the imagination. a barely-there black mini skirt, riding up just enough to make his jaw clench, paired with a tiny top that’s more like a bralette than an actual shirt. it’s low-cut and clings to your curves, thin straps barely holding it in place, and the way it hugs your body?

yeah, he’s fucked. the way the skirt moves when you walk, teasing just enough thigh? it’s like you knew he’d be watching.

he hates how much it turns him on.

every guy at the party notices. he can see the way their eyes follow you as you move through the crowd, laughing, like you don’t even care. but it’s the way you’re ignoring him that’s really pushing him to the edge. normally, rafe loves the attention despite the look of disgust he always greets you with when you show up. loves knowing you’re secretly going to end up in his bed. but tonight? he’s not so sure and it’s killing him.

by the time he corners you, all he can think about is tearing that outfit off. the silent treatment? that shit was way worse than anything you could've said. 

“alrigh’, i get it,” he starts, throwing his hands up like he’s already done with this conversation. “jesus christ.”

you just blink up at him, completely unfazed, like he’s not even worth a reaction. his words might as well be bouncing off a wall. the fact that you’re standing there looking so fucking good, and acting like he doesn’t even exist, is messing with his head more than anything you could’ve said.

he’s pissed, yeah, but more than that, he’s desperate. desperate for a reaction. for anything. but you just brush past him, your body touching his for the briefest second, like you’re doing it on purpose just to make him snap.

rafe stands there for a second, blinking in disbelief. did you just really blow him off like that?

before he even realizes it, he's following after you, shoving through the crowd like a man possessed.

“are you serious right now?” he hisses when he catches up, grabbing your wrist lightly but firm enough to make you stop. the emotion in his voice is undeniable, and everyone nearby is pretending not to watch the little scene. “you're really just gonna walk past me like that?”

karma’s a bitch.

you finally turn to him, but the look in your eyes isn’t anger—it’s indifference. that cold, detached stare that fucks with his head more than any of the shouting matches you’ve had in the past. you pull your wrist free with ease, like his grip is nothing.

“’m over it,” you say coolly, like you’ve already moved on from the whole thing, “whatever this is? it’s not worth my time.”

that does it.

he’s used to the back and forth, the fire between you, but this, you acting like you don’t care at all—it’s new, and it pisses him off more than he thought possible. he steps closer, dropping his voice lower so no one else can hear.

“bullshit,” he says, eyes narrowing. “you’re pissed, i get it. but don’t act like you’re done with me. you aren’t.”

the smirk that curls on your lips is almost cruel.

“watch me.”

you turn and walk away, leaving rafe standing there. he knows he should let it go, but every time he tries to convince himself of that, the way your body looks in that outfit, the way you shut him down so easily, keeps replaying in his head.

and instead of walking away, he’s right back where he started, chasing after you like he can’t stand the idea of not having you anymore.

before you even get two steps away, he snaps.

his patience has run out, and all that pent-up frustration? yeah, it’s got him seeing red. he doesn’t even think about it—just moves. his hand wraps around your arm, and in one swift motion, he’s hoisting you up like you weigh nothing, slinging you over his shoulder.

“what the fuck, rafe!” you shout, your fists pounding on his muscular back, but he doesn’t stop. eyes burning, jaw clenched—he doesn’t give a shit who’s watching. not his friends, not anyone at the party. right now? he’s too pissed off and turned on to think straight. 

you wriggle in his grip, your legs kicking, but he holds you tight, marching through the party like it’s no big deal, even though everyone’s definitely staring. he’ll deal with the fallout later.

“put me down!” you’re practically growling, and maybe under any other circumstances, he would’ve listened. but not tonight. tonight, he’s done playing nice, done pretending like he’s not obsessed with you or your body, done trying to act like he’s got control over this situation when clearly, you’re the one pulling all the strings.

his grip on you is tight, and possessive, and you’re too furious to care about how turned on you secretly are. he doesn’t stop until he reaches his room, kicking the door shut behind him with one solid thud. the sound of the lock clicking is loud in the tense silence. then, he throws you onto his bed, like you're nothing more than a ragdoll.

you bounce once, staring at him with wide eyes.

“what the fuck is wrong with you!” you snap, sitting up on the bed, glaring at him.

he’s pacing now, running his hands through his hair, wild-eyed, like he’s trying to calm himself down but can’t. he turns to you, his face twisted in frustration, like he’s been holding something in for way too long. and when he speaks, his voice cracks just enough to show how on edge he really is.

“you!” he explodes, pointing at you like you're the only thing in the room. “you’re what’s wrong with me!”

his pacing slows down, and suddenly he stops. he turns back to you, both his hands shooting up to his temples, fingers pressing into his head.

“you get in my fucking head,” he admits through gritted teeth, jabbing his fingers into his temples like he’s blaming you for every thought he's had for weeks. “i can’t think straight because of you. every fucking time, you crawl into my head and just—won’t—leave.”

instead of letting his little meltdown get to you, you lean back on your hands, with a bratty scoff. “how is that my fucking problem?” you snap, crossing your arms like you couldn’t care less about his breakdown. “that’s on you, not me. maybe you should try, i don’t know, leaving me alone.”

rafe stares at you, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched tight, “you think this is a joke?” he growls, stepping closer, closing the gap between you two, his presence almost suffocating. “you think you can just sit there and act like none of this is your fault?”

you give him a fake sweet smile, leaning forward just enough to be in his face, “maybe you shouldn’t have fucked me in the first place, hmm? god forbid your friends find out you’ve been slumming it with a pogue.”

it’s the fake docility in your smile that makes him want to break something. he steps even closer, his breath hot and heavy as his eyes lock onto yours, blue and furious.

"that’s what this is?" His voice is low, almost a growl. “you seriously don’t get it, do you?" he leans in, his face inches from yours, his expression almost daring you to keep pushing. "this—whatever the fuck this is between us—this isn’t about them. it’s about you." his hand shoots out, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. "don’t act like you didn’t know what you were getting into from the beginning."

you yank your chin free, rolling your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he's getting to you. “right. you ignoring me at the dinner? guess i was supposed to just sit there and take it, huh? maybe you wanted me to be a good little bitch and not make any noise.” 

you might be pissed, but you're not just angry—you're hurt, and that fucks with his head more than he cares to admit.

rafe huffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration, looking away for a second before turning back to you. “what the fuck do you want from me? huh? you want me to call you my girlfriend? you want me to fucking introduce you like this is some kind of relationship? be fucking serious.”

"be fucking serious?" you repeat, "you gave me a 200$ tip, you fucking asshole!" you shove him hard in the chest, catching him off guard. “like ’m some kind of fucking whore!”

rafe's eyes widen as he stumbles back a step, “wait—what? no, no, no. that’s not what it meant.”

you glare at him, shaking your head in disbelief. “of course, it fucking was!” you shout, shoving him again, harder this time. “what else would it mean, huh? you throw money at me like it’s supposed to make everything okay, like ’m some kind of... some kind of pogue you can pay off and keep quiet.”

he looks stunned, his mouth opening and closing like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “that’s not—fuck, that’s not what i meant. i wasn’t thinking about it like that, okay? i was trying to help you!" he blurts out, his tone defensive, like he can’t believe you’re twisting his intentions into something they weren’t.

you laugh, but it’s sharp, biting. “help me?” you stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “oh, please. shut the fuck up. why would you ever want to help me, rafe? be real.” he tries to speak, but before he can you’re already stepping back. “if you want to fuck me, just get on with it. i need to leave. so, make it quick.”

what?

“is that what you think this is?” he doesn’t move to touch you, but the tension is strong enough to feel suffocating. “you think ’m just here to—”

“to fuck me? yeah. that’s what this has always been about,” you cut him off, “and you know what? it’s okay. let’s not drag it out. do what you do best—take what you want and leave me the fuck alone.”

he’s not ready to admit that this feels more than just a hookup. he’s not sure if he will ever get there. rafe’s chest heaves as he stares at you. he’s done trying to explain himself. 

“fine,” he snaps, stepping closer until his chest is almost brushing yours. “if that’s what you want.” 

your breath catches in your throat, but you don’t back down. not when you're this annoyed. “yeah, it is. stop wasting my time.”

in one swift motion, rafe pulls you to him by the waist, with his usual roughness that makes you drip between your thighs. his lips claim yours with a bruising force. it’s not soft or sweet—this is raw, messy, all tongue and teeth. his hands are everywhere, gripping your hair, your ass, pulling you flush against him like he can’t have any space between you. you’re both moving with frantic, desperate eagerness, like this is less about desire and more about proving a point.

“is this what you want?” rafe snarls against your lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank your top over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room. “to get fucked stupid and leave? that it?”

you let out a breathless laugh, but it’s overflowing with venom. “that’s all you’re good for, right?”

so much for making peace.

TAGLIST: @drewstarkeys-world @maibelitaaura @maybankslover @jkrafe @willowpains

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝟴 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗨𝗧𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where a fan made an 8-minute video with a compilation of Matt and Y/N being in love.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anons, @myfavoritesstuff, @dracoflaco and @ecliphttlunar

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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8 minutes of cute moments between Matt Sturniolo and his girlfriend, Y/N.

1st minute - "Trying Japanese snacks with our parents!!!":

The triplets were recording a video where they tried different snacks from Japan, and their parents were participating of it as guests, just like Y/N - which was nothing new, since the girl made at least a small appearance in every video from the triplets channel.

The six of them were around one side of the kitchen table, and all the snacks that would be used in the video rested on it. Y/N stood next to Mary Lou with her head resting on her shoulder, while the woman's left arm wrapped around her waist affectionately.

Matt was explaining to the camera about the snack they were going to eat next, when the girl raised her head slightly, pointing with her left hand at the only glass of water on the table, which was in front of Mary Lou.

"It's yours, right? Can I have a sip, please?" The girl asked her mother-in-law, receiving a big smile and a nod in response.

"Of course, go ahead!"

Y/N smiled back, picking the glass and taking a generous sip. Before she could take another one, Chris suddenly interrupted her, cutting off Matt's sentence.

"Someone's invisalign is in that water." Chris pointed to the glass, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw his sister-in-law drinking the water from there.

Y/N stopped her hand holding the glass in the air, her eyes widening comically as her cheeks puffed out in embarrassment.

"What?" Her voice came out high-pitched, her eyes going from Chris to the glass repeatedly.

"Oh my God, babe, it was mine!" Matt pointed out, a laugh escaping his mouth, followed by Mary Lou, who curved her spine slightly as she laughed, trying to apologize.

"Ew, ew, ew." Y/N mumbled repeatedly, dropping the glass on the table with a loud clinck. She began her steps towards the sink, ready to give her mouth a thorough rinse.

Her steps were interrupted by Matt, who lightly pulled her into his arms, hugging her from behind. His arms wrapped around her waist as he rested his chin on her head, an amused look still in his eyes.

Y/N let out a groan, trying to free herself from Matt's arms, wanting to clean her mouth.

"No need for all that, baby. You've had worse in your mouth." Matt threw, his voice loud enough for everyone there to hear.

Nick let out a dramatic scream, covering his ears with his hands quickly, a look of fear taking over his features. Chris's eyes widened momentarily before laughter escaped his mouth, followed by Jimmy, who patted Matt's shoulder. Mary Lou raised her eyebrows at the couple, shaking her head playfully.

Y/N opened her mouth in surprise, her eyes widening as she stopped fighting against his hold. She felt her face burn with embarrassment, her mind still processing what her boyfriend had just blurted out in front of his parents, siblings, and camera.

"Matt!"

"I'm kidding, baby. I'm sorry." Matt said, his tone full of amusement, showing that he wasn't sorry at all for what he said.

The brunette lowered his face, resting his right cheek on Y/N's right shoulder with his face toward her neck, sealing her jaw repeatedly, exhaling the natural scent of her skin as he tightened his arms around her, throwing a playful wink towards the camera.

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2nd minute - Silent treatment:

The triplets and Y/N were at Target buying the drinks that the boys would use in the channel's next video. Nick had his vlog camera in hand, recording bits of their little trip, just like they used to do.

The four of them had decided to split up to optimize their time, as Y/N needed to get some things that had run out at their house. With that, Y/N and Matt went one way, while Nick and Chris went the other.

At some point, Y/N approached Chris and Nick with a giant pout on her lips and arms crossed, her heavy steps against the floor drawing their attention.

"Uh oh, what happened?" Nick asked upon noticing her upset expression, focusing the camera lens on her face while frowning in confusion.

"Matt is ignoring me." Her pout deepened, her eyes dropping to the floor momentarily. "I just wanted to get a Diet Coke, but he said we would get that later and that the focus now was on the video stuff." She explained in a defeated tone. "But I said I felt like it, and he told me to stay quiet and just do what you said, and then he started ignoring me and giving me the silent treatment-"

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her, her eyes quickly looking up to the source of it, seeing Matt approaching with a basket with 10 cans of assorted drinks, and at least 15 cans of Diet Coke.

Y/N's eyes filled with tears when she saw him and what he had picked, lowering her crossed arms and watching him with hopeful eyes.

"Matt! What did we talk about giving the silent treatment when you're mad?" Chris raised his eyebrows, resting his hands on his waist in a playfully confrontational gesture.

The brunette rolled his eyes, completely ignoring him and approaching his girlfriend.

"I'm sorry, babe. It was childish of me to ignore you. But look, I got you a bunch of Diet Coke." Matt asked, lifting the basket with the cans before looking into Y/N's eyes, frowning in concern when he saw them teary. "Oh no, don't cry, pretty girl. I'm sorry."

Matt's tone was desperate, his hands dropping the basket onto the floor before wrapping around Y/N, pulling her into a tight hug. He pressed her head against his chest, lowering his own and sealing her temple for long seconds, whispering "I love you" repeatedly, pressing several kisses to the same spot.

"Ugh, how can you two be so disgusting even when you're fighting?" Nick's voice sounded from behind the camera, the lens shaking as he suddenly turned around, leaving that aisle and pulling Chris with him.

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3rd minute - Y/N's birthday:

It was Y/N's birthday, and at her own request, the celebration was being something small, just a little thing with her closest friends, at her house - which she shared with the triplets, one of them being her beloved boyfriend -, without alcoholic drinks, but with several different snacks and sweets, as well as a pink cake, heart shaped and covered in glitter.

It was time to sing the happy birthday song and Nick quickly fished his phone out of the back pocket of his baggy jeans, opening the camera and setting it to record, wanting to keep the memory forever.

"Baby, can you stay by my side?" Y/N asked in a low tone, her eyes focused on her boyfriend, Matt, as she was already standing behind the table in their kitchen.

The cake was in the center with two pink candles filled with pearls in the shape of her new age on top, surrounded by sweets and snacks, as well as several drinks filled with edible glitter and dishes in different shades of pink.

Matt smiled at her request, his cheeks taking on a reddish color in shyness and love, walking over to his girlfriend and positioning himself next to her, his arm wrapping around her waist automatically.

"Wait, let me light it." The brunette interrupted Y/N's next movements, who was ready to light the candles.

Matt quickly did so before straightening up, nodding as he heard everyone start singing the "Happy birthday" song, while clapping and smiling at the couple.

The boy tightened his arm around Y/N, lowering his head so that his lips approached the side of her forehead, sealing her skin for a long time while humming the song along with everyone.

"Happy birthday, pretty girl."

It was Y/N's birthday, but it was Matt who was getting an amazing gift for the fifth year in a row.

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4th minute - Guess the triplets by zoom in pics:

The triplets were finishing the video where they had limited time rounds to guess who it was in the photos shown, just by a small part of their body or face.

"Before we finish, we want to do something different. We'll call Y/N so she can play a round alone. But the trick is: we'll tell her that these are random photos of the three of us, but actually, we'll just show photos of me." Matt explained in a low tone, his face closer to the camera so that the lens captured his words, an eager smile decorating his face.

While the brunette talked to the lens, Chris did the job of calling Y/N and explaining what she would have to do, taking her into the frame after Matt finished speaking.

Y/N smiled slightly at the camera, waving quickly before sitting down in one of the two chairs set up behind the table, keeping her arms on the wooden surface and looking at the triplets expectantly.

"Okay, Y/N, are you ready?" Nick began, scrolling his thumb through the separate photos in a folder in his phone's gallery, before clicking on one. He zoomed in on an almost unrecognizable area, turning the device towards Y/N, showing her the screen. "Who's-"

"Matt." Y/N interrupted Nick abruptly, slamming her hand on the table right after, momentarily forgetting that she needed to tap there before saying the answer.

Chris raised his eyebrows from behind the camera, approaching Nick and looking at the photo quickly over his right shoulder, before taking the device from his hand and searching for the next picture, looking for one that was just as difficult.

"Okay, you got it right, but that one was too easy. Let's see something different." Chris smiled sideways, covering the phone screen with his free hand so that no one but himself could see what he was doing.

Matt rolled his eyes, smirking as his eyes met Y/N's, watching her cheeks take on a red hue under his intense gaze.

A few seconds later, Chris finally chose the photo, zooming in on the area most unlikely to be recognized before doing the same process as Nick, showing it to Y/N.

The girl looked at it for a few milliseconds before slamming the same hand on the table.

"Matt. Again." She smiled smugly, lifting her chin in the air in pride.

Matt let out a loud laugh, clapping his hands momentarily, entering the camera frame, and walking up to his girlfriend's back.

He leaned forward slightly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and laying his head in the crook of her neck, before repeatedly kissing her cheek.

Y/N smiled in shyness at his loving gestures, feeling confused by the sudden actions.

"I said my girlfriend knew me as well as I knew myself." Matt spoke to his brothers behind the camera, smiling into the lens in excitement.

"Wait, was that a prank?"

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5th minute - "We bought the zoo for a day":

The triplets and Y/N were at the zoo for 24 hours, a way of thanking the fans of the Sturniolo Triplets channel for making them reach 6 million subscribers.

Y/N felt over the moon, having grown up with a huge passion for all types of animals, made her enthusiasm triple every time her eyes met a different animal, dangerous or not.

The four were in the zoo's tour car, accompanied by their guide, who stopped in front of certain groups of animals from time to time and briefly explained their species and main characteristics.

Nick and Chris, who were sitting in the seats behind the front ones, listened intently to the guide as they recorded themselves and their surroundings, often focusing the lens on the couple in the seats behind them, Y/N and Matt.

Matt nodded his head every few minutes, wanting to show the guide through the rearview mirror that he was listening to him and understanding his explanation, while his eyes fixed on each of the animals shown.

A huge smile decorated his face, accompanied by his pupils that seemed to shine bright. Y/N's right arm was around his waist, keeping him close.

Her hand caressed his covered skin lightly, gently squeezing it every time she felt him jump in place excitedly, or when he simply waved at the animals, whispering "hi" or "bye's".

God, how she loved him.

The camera, focused on Nick at the moment, captured the image of the two in the background, recording the cuteness of the couple, who seemed to be in candy land.

Y/N leaned into Matt's side from time to time, her pupils dilating as they ran over his excited, awe-like features. She sealed her lips over his cheeks and jaw every minute, whispering against his skin how much she loved him and adored seeing him that happy.

The girl also laid her head on Matt's right shoulder sometimes, squeezing her arm around him and pulling him closer - if that was even possible.

That only intensified Matt's happiness, who smiled so big that his eyes closed, shrugging his shoulders in shyness and enthusiasm.

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6th minute - Disgustingly cute:

Nick and Chris were in the living room as they spoke to the camera, explaining what they would do in that vlog, which would be posted next Wednesday.

Chris remembered that they had to call for Matt, commenting that the boy was still in his room and that they had been calling for him for over 20 minutes already.

Nick rolled his eyes, muttering something like "I don't know what I did to deserve this shit" in an ironic tone, walking quickly to Matt's bedroom door, turning the camera so that the lens captured the environment inside.

His free hand worked on turning the handle, pushing it quickly, hoping to give Matt a scare.

He just didn't expect to see Y/N still lying in bed - which left him confused, as he imagined that the girl would already be at the market, since there were some things that had run out on their house and she told him that she would get new ones while they were filming.

The girl was dressed in the clothes she would wear to go out, her makeup and hair done, and her face carrying a defeated expression. Meanwhile, Matt was lying on top of her, all of his weight against Y/N's body.

His face was buried in the crook of her neck, only the sight of curly brown hair apparent. His back rose and fell slowly, on the rhythm of his calm breath.

Matt's body was covered by the sweatshirt set he would be wearing for the video, and Nick quickly understood that they were ready for the day, Y/N about to leave, when Matt interrupted her for a lovey dovey session.

Y/N had her eyes closed and a smile resting on her face, seeming to dive into the moment. Her right hand was in Matt's hair, and her fingers threaded through his curls, massaging his scalp. While her left hand was on his back, traveling from his shoulders down to the small of his back, and back up again.

Every second, it was possible to see Matt moving his head slightly, and a sound of lips sealing against skin sounded throughout the room, making it clear that he was kissing Y/N's cheek or neck.

Whispers of "I love you" and sweet nothings were occasionally released from their lips.

"Matt, I'm going to fire you if you don't get up now and do your job." Nick's voice sounded like thunder between the four walls, scaring the couple.

Matt quickly sat down between Y/N's legs, turning towards the door with wide eyes, while Y/N opened her own eyes abruptly, her right hand flying to her chest, feeling her heart racing under her skin.

"You are crazy." Matt shook his head, moving to get up from the bed, casting a sad glance at Y/N, longing to return to her arms.

"And you guys are disgusting." Chris added, smiling roguishly, letting it know that it was a joke. "Y/N makes Matt a softie. She has him on a leash, I swear."

"Shut up, Chris."

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7th minute - Gamer boyfriend:

Y/N felt her shoulders heavy from the extremely busy day at work. All the tasks placed on her duty made her almost go completely insane, and all her body asked for was her bed and her boyfriend's arms.

So when she got home, the first thing she did was go up the stairs and enter her shared room with Matt, her movements almost robotic and automatic.

The sound of voices echoed low from one of the corners of the room, and Y/N quickly noticed that Matt was sitting in his gaming chair, his arms resting on the computer desk as he played one of his addictive games.

His eyes were fixed on his computer screen, his ears covered by the headphones from which the voices were coming from.

Y/N smiled slightly, feeling her heart warm by finally seeing her boyfriend. She quickly grabbed a set of the boy's sweatshirts and left the room, going to the bathroom, where she took a shower faster than usual - just wanting to be able to sleep as soon as possible - and got dressed.

As soon as the girl entered their bedroom again, she noticed Matt talking into the microphone of his headphones, and she quickly understood that he was streaming, probably with his brothers and on Twitch.

Y/N walked slowly towards her boyfriend, touching his right shoulder lightly, alerting him to her presence.

Without the two noticing, the chat went crazy from the moment the girl appeared in the frame. Miscellaneous comments about her or the two of them as a couple were sent so quickly that if Matt were watching them, he wouldn't be able to read any.

Matt lifted his head quickly, lowering the headphones so that it would hang around his neck, a big, bright smile appearing on his face as his pupils instantly dilated.

"Hi baby! I didn't notice you coming." The brunette's voice came out in a low tone, his eyes taking note of his girlfriend's tired expression and tense shoulders, his eyebrows almost automatically furrowing in concern.

"I arrived just now, I just came in to get some clothes so I could take a shower." Y/N whispered in response.

Matt smiled as he saw his own clothes covering his girl's body. The boy lifted his arms, encircling her waist and pulling her closer, sealing his lips lightly over her covered waist.

"Do you want to go to sleep?" The brunette asked, tilting his head back so he could see her face, ready to just turn off his streaming if she said yes.

"I do, but I want to be with you more." Y/N spoke, raising her right hand quickly, interrupting Matt before he could even consider stopping his streaming. "I don't want you to stop it... Can I just sit on your lap while you play?" Her tone was vulnerable, her tired eyes looking into Matt's expectantly.

"Of course, my love. Always." Matt quickly responded, nodding his head as he moved slightly away from the table with the help of the soles of his feet against the floor, opening his arms, waiting for his girlfriend to fit between them.

Y/N smiled in gratitude, positioning herself between his thighs before sitting on his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms hooking around his shoulders, getting comfortable.

She sealed her lips against his right cheek in a lingering kiss, stroking the soft skin with the tip of her nose, before laying her head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily and finally closing her eyes.

Matt kissed the top of her head for some seconds, arranging his headphones against his own ears again, giving a shy smile to the camera.

His right hand traveled to the mouse, pressing play on the game again, while his left hand caressed Y/N's back, helping her get into dream land.

He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he watched the chat go as fast as he thought it be possible, keeping his focus on the game.

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8th minute - "Trying and guessing 21 different drinks":

The triplets were recording the video that would be posted that Wednesday, where they had to try 21 different drinks - some that they are used to drinking every day, others that they have never even tasted - and guess what which one was.

Y/N was participating in the video as a special guest. She had a feeling she would do poorly at the task, since she wasn't used to drinking anything other than Diet Coke.

Nick had decided to leave her for last, telling her to rearrange the positions of all the drinks in each of the boys' rounds.

Soon, it was her turn. She cast a quick glance at Matt, concern and nervousness present in her expressions. The brunette just returned it with a quick wink, waving his hand as if to say "you can go", waiting for her to leave the kitchen so he could rearrange the drinks.

Before calling her back, Matt surreptitiously took a photo of the position of the drinks, quickly putting away his phone, finally calling for his girlfriend.

Y/N returned to the kitchen with a tense smile, stopping in front of the table and behind the drinks, looking at the triplets, waiting for them to give the go-ahead.

Given the start, the girl bent down to take a sip of the first drink, her expression brightening and her eyes instantly widening as she tasted her favorite drink.

"Diet Coke!" She quickly said after rising from her slightly bent position, pulling out the paper with the image of the soda.

"Okay..." Chris muttered, nodding his head in confirmation. They knew she'd get that one right since her obsession with the drink was as strong as Chris's obsession with Pepsi.

The girl bent down again to take a sip of the second drink, momentarily catching her throat before she could swallow the liquid, the horrible taste flooding her mouth.

She stood up abruptly, swallowing the contents roughly, looking at the brothers with a frown, receiving laughter in response. The girl stopped in front of the images for a few seconds, internally analyzing which one it could be.

Her fingers worked on pushing away the images of the drinks she had already drank before and was sure that wasn't the horrible thing she had just drank, staring firmly at the ones that she didn't know.

When her finger went towards one of them, the image of Matt moving his arm around caught her attention. She looked up and saw her boyfriend behind his brothers, trying to get her attention.

Matt, realizing that she noticed him calling out to her, discreetly pointed to the right image with his free hand, his other hand occupied by his phone, which was displaying the photo he took of the correct order of the drinks minutes before.

Y/N smirked, dodging the path her hand was going, picking up the right image and placing it in front of the corresponding straw.

That cycle remained throughout the process. Chris and Nick were in shock, even thinking about the possibility that Y/N had some kind of superpower..

While Matt had a discreet smile on his face, biting his bottom lip to stop the laugh from escaping every time he saw his brothers reaction or the way his girlfriend smiled like a mad woman.

Upon finishing her round, the girl stood in front of the table with her arms crossed, a convinced expression taking over her features as she waited for Nick to confirm how many she got right, even though she already knew the result.

"Look, I don't know what kind of witchcraft you did, but you got everything right." Nick said, his face with an expression of annoyance.

An excited scream escaped Y/N's lips. She ran towards Matt, hugging him tightly while jumping in place.

Matt laughed at her reaction, pulling her closer, kissing the side of her head repeatedly, jumping with her.

"Ugh, I hate you guys."

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[gracieheartspedro]

Dagger In The Heart

pairing: ellie williams x afab! reader

post about palestine - please be aware and know who your content comes from. this post informs you about the tlou writers and creators, as well as how to help the Palestinian people.

word count: 6.1k words

warnings: MINORS DNI!!! 18+ ty!!! abusive relationship mentioned, reader's bf is a cheating asshole, calls her names, makes comments about weight, talks of cheating, some lowkey cheating from reader, sharing clothes with ellie, ellie is 18+ but her age not specified, talks of hardly eating food at dinner, reader is a bit confused with her sexuality and wants to explore (which is fine!!! and normal!!!), wlw relations, pussy eating, fingering, tribbing, tattoos? lots of tattoos, dirty talk, reader being a bit desperate, getting caught (but not really), mentions of a strap, men being drunk and stupid. that's it. I think.

description: when you get the chance to meet your asshole boyfriend’s family, you take a liking to his sister, ellie. when a conversation about her tattoos turns into talks of what you’re really into, you can’t help but want to explore it more.

author’s note: hi girls, gays, and theys! I am so happy to be bringing this request to you. it was an anon request from july and I just suck at getting my life together to actually write. but here we are. FYI, I don't condone this behavior or cheating. anyway I hope you enjoy. I will also be putting this on my ao3 soon, so if you see it there, don't worry, it's just me (;

“You gotta chill, babe. Your anxiety is giving me anxiety.”

He was never very good with comforting you, so you bite back your snappy comment and just fake a smile.  

You had been dating your boyfriend Matt for almost a year. You two met in your college biology class and really bonded over your love for folk music and Greek food. He had kind eyes, mousy brown hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen. 

At first, you thought this was the best relationship you ever could ask for, but Matt grew distant after four months together. You didn’t know why, but his temper had shown itself one too many times. He fought with you constantly. He was quite jealous. You could never be seen with another boy without accusations of cheating. But every time you two argued, he always came back with an apology and a bouquet of flowers. You could not help but believe you could fix him. 

It had been 10 months, you had to brave meeting his family. Unlike you, his family lived two towns over and he visited them quite often. He was close to his younger brother and mom, so he made a point to see them as much as he could. 

He brought up the idea of meeting them back around the holidays, but you were planning to board a flight and visit your family across the country. He understood but was pretty disappointed you could not try his mom’s infamous pumpkin pie.

You had no excuse when summer came. So here you are, standing with him at his childhood home’s front door as he scrambled to find his keys. 

You were sporting something more dressed up than your normal. Matt loved this one black dress on you, so you decided to wear that with some cute flats. You were sorely regretting the shoe decision, the pointed-toed shoes squeezed your big toe and the arch was not high enough to be comfortable. 

He unlocks the deadbolt and the red door jolts open. You are instantly met with the scent of BBQ and cornbread. His childhood is cozy and lived in. The entrance is lined with shoes, everything from high heels to sneakers that have run through countless puddles. It was a sigh of relief, they were a no-shoes in the house family. You kick off your uncomfortable shoes, holding on to Matt’s shoulder for balance. 

His mom is the first one to enter the hallway to meet you two at the door. She is quite beautiful, her hair darker than Matt’s. She was shorter, wearing a nice blouse and jeans. She welcomes you both with a bear hug and cheers of excitement. When she pulls you out of the embrace, she gets a better look at you. 

“You are more beautiful in person, pictures do not do your gorgeous smile justice,” She remarks, squeezing your hands. 

You shake your head, trying your best not to let out that you are beyond nervous about this entire encounter. “You are too kind, thank you so much for hosting us.”

“Come meet the crew!”

Matt eyes meet yours, noticing how tense you are. You had hoped for him to hold your hand and guide you through this experience, but instead he just nudges you with his shoulder. He brushes by, heading after his mom. 

The hallway opens into a kitchen and living room, which is littered with random strangers who, in some way, resemble your boyfriend. 

His brother, Collin, stands up first from the barstools, racing over to your boyfriend to dap him up. When he glances your way, you just smile and introduce yourself. He extends his hand to shake yours, which you gladly accept. 

His dad is next to stand up from a recliner in the living room. He makes your acquaintance quickly, telling you he’s so glad to finally meet you after months of hearing all about you. 

When he moves away from in front of you, she comes into focus. You had not even noticed her sitting on the couch across the room. 

She’s slender, her dark locks framing her chiseled jawline. She looks like Matt, but more like a person who belongs in a Renaissance painting. Her eyes are a more dimensional brown. She has freckles scattered around her pale complexion, which only added her beauty. 

You do not realize you are gawking until Matt nudges you. “This is my sister, Ellie.”

You blink again, bringing your focus back to the situation. She extends her hand, and that’s when you take notice to her tattoo-filled arms. Her tank top raises a bit and you catch a glance of her midriff, exposing more tattoos littering her abdomen. 

“Nice to meet ya. Heard plenty about you.”

You swallow, taking her hand and shaking it. “I hope good things.”

“No, I only tell her the worst things about you.”

Everyone giggles except you and Ellie. Luckily it is filling the room with enough noise to drown out your thoughts about your boyfriend’s beautiful sister. 

Ellie rolls her eyes before whispering, “Don’t worry, it’s only ever good things, sweet cheeks.”

-

Matt’s dad loves to talk and you can tell it annoys Ellie. You were seated outside on their patio set, drinking some homemade lemonade Matt’s mom was adamant you had. He was helping her with all the sides that were still yet to be made, so you took up Ellie’s offer to check out the backyard space. You did not expect Matt’s dad to come with you two and tell you all about the flower beds he curated. 

But you listened, smiling and nodding while sipping on your tart drink. 

He got occupied with grilling, so you and Ellie were left on the couch near a very used and abused firepit. 

You wait for her to say something. She was truly making you nervous, her eyes trailing you every so often. 

“So, you and Matt met in science class?”

You finally look back at her wandering eyes, “Yeah, he was my biology partner.”

“Gotcha,” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees. You do not know what comes over you, but you cannot physically pull your eyes away from her arms as they flex. “You good?”

“I like your tattoos,” You barely manage to say, “They are… hot.”

You want to jump into the unlit firepit for that one. 

No other adjective came to your horny mind? Really?

She giggles, enjoying watching you practically squirm under her gaze. “Thanks, dude. My ex girlfriend was a tattoo artist so I let her practice on me.”

You remember a moment about 5 months ago when Matt mentioned his sister being gay, but for some reason, you finally connect that duh it’s Ellie, you fucking idiot. 

You also remember some choice words he had about her. You remember cringing when he called her a slur and said she could not keep a girl to save her life. You held your tongue and refused to reply.

“That’s awesome,” You scoot closer to her, bridging more of the gap between you two on the couch, “Which one is your favorite?”

She smiles at your intrusion into her space and questions. You realize you two are almost sizing each other up, right in front of her family, your boyfriend’s family. They could easily peek outside of the kitchen windows and see you two eye fucking each other. She leans back, her eyes tracing all the tattoos on her arms. 

Then she laughs. A deep guttural laugh. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” She brings her front teeth down on her bottom lip before speaking up again, “It’s a tattoo I can’t show you.”

“Why not?”

She looks towards the window, checking on her brother and mom. Her expression changes when she turns back to you. 

“Because I’m not pulling my tits out in front of my family.”

Your pussy practically pulses when you hear her say it. What is wrong with you? You are dating her brother. What is wrong with you?!

“Your… boobs are tattooed?”

She nods slowly, bringing her one hand up to your bare exposed thigh, “Bet that shakes a sweet one like you to your core.”

The comment insinuates that you are an innocent little girl who knows nothing about the world. And sure Matt is your first real boyfriend. Sure he was the first person ever to eat you out because your high school crushes did not even know that was a thing. Sure you never have been sexually promiscuous. Sure you thought you were straight. 

Sure.

But something inside you was crawling its way out. This small interaction with your asshole boyfriend’s sister was enough to send you into a spiral. You never gave a girl a chance so how were you supposed to know you did not like it?

“What if your family wasn’t around?”

Ellie is gobsmacked by your comment, her jaw practically hitting the floor. You can tell she realized she was flying too close to the sun. She pulls her hand away from your leg. 

“You are my brother’s girlfriend. I am not going to be the one to corrupt you,” She states, scooting over a bit away from you. Your cheeks get flushed, instantly feeling embarrassed for asking such a question. But the more you sat in silence, the more you realized that you really did not care. The feelings Ellie made you feel within the last 10 minutes were more exciting than any feeling Matt had given you in 10 months. 

You clear your throat, “Luckily for you, Ellie, you would not be the one to corrupt me. That has already been done.”

She looks at you quizzically, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, I may look sweet and innocent,” You creep in close to her, “But I am really a freak.”

Now you are just lying. 

Before she can utter a word, Matt’s brother comes out to let you two know dinner was done. You hope and pray he didn’t take notice to how close you two were. Or how Ellie stared at your ass as you walked away. 

-

You sit between Matt and Ellie at the table. 

Every so often during the meal, you would place your hand on Matt’s leg. He would push you away, rolling his eyes when you glared at him. When the conversation came around to him, he would find a way to demean you and then continue blabbing about school or his internship. 

You answered questions from his mom and dad, but you were sorely uninterested in them. But then the conversation comes around as to whether you two would be staying the night tonight. At this point, Matt had already had four beers, and you knew he probably would not want you driving his new Mustang. 

“You can take Matt’s bed and he can sleep on the couch,” His mom suggests, indicating that you two would not be sleeping together. You understood that they were a bit more traditional, but you were not expecting to sleep in your boyfriend's childhood bed without him. 

“That’s a great idea, Ma. We can stay, right?”

You look at the plate of practically untouched food in front of you. You just nod, finally saying, “As long as you give me some comfy sweatpants to wear.”

“Mine are all back at my apartment, but I’m sure Ellie has something you could borrow. Plus, you probably wouldn’t fit my sweatpants.”

Matt constantly made comments about your figure and how he could not share clothes with you. He refused to share his clothes with you, stating that you would not be able to squeeze into them and you also “left your scent on everything”. 

God, he made you feel terrible about yourself. 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you think about wearing Ellie’s clothes, though, and you completely drown out the separate conversation happening around the table. You feel a hand creep up your thigh, but it's not coming from the side you expect.

Her hand is so soft and delicate as it creeps up your leg. You cannot help but glance at her direction, catching her smiling over at you. 

“Don’t worry, I got something you can wear.”

-

Dinner finishes up and Matt expresses that he wants to go for a round of drinks with his high school friends and brother at the local tavern down the street. He never asks if you want to go, telling you “It would just be high school friends that you don’t know, anyway.”

He tells you that his Mom and Ellie would get you all set up. He gives you a pat on the back, and heads to the door, right behind his brother. You watch him leave and almost breathe a sigh of relief. 

When you turn back, you see his Mom already going upstairs. 

“I’m gonna get your bed all set up and then I’m probably going to retire to my bed, too.” She states, slowly making her way up the wooden staircase. 

You wanted to scream because this only meant one thing. You were alone with Ellie. 

You follow her up the stairs and look around the hallway. She heads to the right and begins pointing at the only room with the light on. You didn’t even know that Ellie was upstairs.

“Have Ellie get you something to wear, I’ll make up your bed!”

The door swings open and Ellie stands there, having changed into her own bedtime clothes. And for fucks sake, she’s not making this easy for you. 

She is sporting a tight white tank, no bra, and shorts that ride up to the very tops of her thighs. Her legs are tattooed as well, but not as much as her arms. There isn’t a touch of her freckled skin that isn’t marked with art. You can almost see through her shirt, making your mouth go dry. 

“Let’s see what you fit into!”

She lets you into her space. Her room is decorated with posters of space and heavy metal bands. From the looks of one corner of her room, she’s an artist. She has different art styles, anywhere from charcoal to watercolors, littering a desk and her walls. It’s messy, but it’s not dirty. It smells like incense and clean laundry. 

She walks over to her dresser, opens up the top drawer. Everything is neatly folded, which kind of surprises you. 

“I have some sweatpants, shorts, boxers-“

“Sweatpants are fine,” You retort, not wanting her to list off anything else, “Do you have any t-shirts I could wear?”

“Well of course I do, sweet cheeks. What do you want, loose or tight?”

You stare at her dumbfounded. You know what she’s doing. And you hate yourself for liking it so much. 

She pulls out a pair of navy blue sweatpants, still waiting for your reply. 

“Loose.”

She starts to dig through another drawer when Matt’s mom pops her head in. 

“It’s all set up for you, sweetheart. If you need anything, you let one of us know. I’m going to downstairs if you need me.”

You smile, thankfully. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Williams.”

“If she needs anything, I’m sure I could help her find her way,” Ellie says, absentmindedly. She pulls out a white t-shirt from her drawer and tosses it at you. 

“Goodnight, girls!”

And then you two are alone. Ellie slowly saunters to her door and shuts it. 

“You can get dressed here. Just make sure what I gave you fits.”

You silently turned your back to her, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “Can you unzip me?”

You are not even thinking straight. You are so caught up with being alone with the girl you have had weird sexual tension with. She walks over to you confidently, before grabbing the top of your black dress, which lands right at the middle of your back. She pulls down the zipper, ensuring it reaches the very end of its track. 

The hairs on your back stand up in her wake. You breathe deeply, before shimmying the dress off your shoulders. You were wearing a bra, so you were just going to keep it on. You step out of the dress, leaving you in just underwear and the push-up bra Matt gifted you not too long ago. 

You don’t turn to her, but she just comes around to your front, nonchalantly. 

“Jesus Christ,” Ellie stammers, before plopping on her bed. You shakingly step into the sweatpants she gifted you to wear, unsure how to respond. You rack your brain trying to gain the confidence you had before dinner, but your mouth is dry and your brain is dazed from seeing Ellie in her pajamas. 

You finally manage to glance up at her hungry eyes, smiling softly. 

“I never knew I would be jealous of my brother.”

You swallow, “Jealous?”

“Yeah, he gets to have someone like you every night and I can’t even find someone worth hanging out with around here. Never thought a nerd like him would win over a woman like you.”

You are standing in the sweatpants and your bra, not able to digest her words completely. A woman like you?

“Your brother is sweet. And we don’t have sex every night.”

“Just sweet?” She steps a bit closer to you, “And I said nothing about sex, darling, I said he gets to have you.”

She is looking at you like you are her prey. You almost fell to your knees and begged her to put you out of your misery, but you resisted. Instead, she just stands up, trying to catch your nervous glances. 

“H-he, uh, does what he can, when we d-do, yanno.”

Her fingers trace up your arm, her eyes trailing as she does it. You bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for her response. She clicks her tongue a couple of times, shaking her head. 

“I am sure he tries,” She sputters, standing back from you, “Do you even really like him?”

You furrow your eyebrows, suddenly snapping out of the situation you are currently in. You reflect for a moment.

Matt was an asshole but you sometimes enjoyed his company. He made you laugh on occasion. But deep down, you knew that he wasn’t made for you. He lacked emotional intelligence and made sure to put you down any chance he got. You had inklings he was talking to other girls and his friends were probably the most intolerable people on your college campus. And then there was that one time when the inklings were just. 

The realization that you maybe didn’t like him made you sick. You wasted so much time and now you have met his family.

“When he’s not mean to me. When he isn’t cheating on me.” You admit quietly, almost too humiliated to say it. 

She crooks her neck, “He cheated on you?”

You hate talking about it, it made you feel as though you were never good enough. He made it out that it was your fault because you would not have sex with him when you had the flu. “It was just some hand stuff, baby,” he said to you. 

“Just once. I forgave him because he told me he loved me.”

“People who love you don’t hurt you like that,” Ellie says without a beat. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Is he mean to you all the time?”

You think back to the last nice thing he said to you. Your ass looks fat in that dress. And even that could be seen as a bad thing. You shake your head, trying to find a good way to paint her brother. From the looks of it, she doesn’t really like him all that much anyway. 

“Most of the time.”

“So, what I’m hearing is my brother is an asshole that doesn’t know how to treat a woman both in life and in the bedroom. Is that what you’re saying?”

You stand there pondering her question, coming up with nothing. She was right, but were you ready to admit that?

So you shrug.

Ellie stands with her arms crossed now, chewing on the inside of her lip. She’s contemplating something, her eyes falling to the floor for a moment. 

“Listen, I am not just saying this because it has taken everything in my power to resist sinking my teeth into you,” The first half of the sentence put your heart in your throat. Nonetheless, she carries on, “But I have an inkling that you don’t like my brother at all. I think you like girls and you’ve never had the chance to explore that. You want to say you are a freak, but you really don’t know what that even means.”

“Ellie, I d-”

“You need to break up with my brother,” She states plainly, “And then, after all is said and done, I can show what it looks like to be taken care of.”

You agree, sadly. You do need to break up with Matt. And on the basis that you believe that he’s probably at the bar hanging out with old friends, probably with other girls, probably flirting with those other girls. You decide you are not going to wait anymore. He cheated on you once, what’s stopping him now? Ellie was right about everything, and while that revelation changes your entire perspective on life, you settle on jumping head first. 

“Show me now.”

You watch all the blood drain from her face. She fumbles with her inked hands, waiting for you to say you didn’t mean it. That moment never comes. 

“Are you sure about that?”

Swallowing hard, you just nod. You do not even realize what you are getting yourself into, but the undeniable chemistry cannot be ignored anymore. You don’t even want to waste another thought on Matt. You know if you think too hard about it, you’ll talk yourself back into staying with him.

Ellie’s face gets closer to yours and your lips connect seamlessly. She wastes no time, bringing her hands down to your waist to pull you in. You wrap your arms around her neck while fireworks erupt in your chest.

Her lips taste like mint and a dab pen your college roommate made you hit a couple of months ago. She was borderline intoxicating. 

She backs you up towards her bed, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress. You plop down, disconnecting from her lips. 

Through hooded lids, she asks you, “Do you want to see my favorite tattoo, then?”

Your breathing hitches as she does not even wait for a response, she just pulls her tank top over her head.

Each piece is connected somehow. Her stomach piece is what appeared to be a dragon flying up towards her under-boob area. It was extremely detailed and took up a large half of her upper stomach. Around her collarbones were very intricate lines that almost rain over her body like veins. They spread down her chest onto her boobs, where around her nipples were two matching daggers appearing to go through her areola. 

You smirk at the idea that these are her favorite tattoos. The cheeky ones around her tits.

“Holy shit, Ellie.”

You reach out and touch her tits, ever so delicately. You use your finger to outline the daggers, smiling to yourself. 

Being this close sends a pulsating feeling down to your pussy. You have never felt a lightning strike quite like it before. 

She’s letting you feel her up, but when you change your tune and start pinching at her nipples, she throws her head back with a groan.

“Hmm, you should try putting one in your mouth,” She remarks, hoping to God you would be eager enough to do so. She was very in tune with you because you leaned forward taking her right nipple into your mouth. She’s guiding you around every turn, whispering how good you are doing already. 

You release her with a pop and sit back. You reach around to release your own, but she stops you. 

“Lemme do it,” She says mounting your lap. You place your hand on her hips while she runs her fingertips across your back. She unhooks your black bra, letting your tits spill out. 

You feel the tops of your hands stand up as soon as her hands begin to knead your tits. You glance down at her movements, watching your sensitive nipples perk up due to the attention she’s giving them. 

“Mmm, you like that, sweetness?”

You just groan, your lips needing to do more than just talk. You pull Ellie’s ajar mouth down to yours, diving your tongue between her teeth. You never had such a hunger for anyone else. No guy ever made you feel this way. 

She nudges your shoulders, having you fall onto your back. Her lips move away from yours and start to trail down your neck and chest. When her wet mouth touches your tits, you cannot control the sounds that leave your throat. She bites down on your supple skin, which makes you groan more. 

“You gotta quiet down a bit. Don’t need anyone hearing us.”

You try to manage your noises, but as soon as she starts to kiss down to the hem of the sweatpants she loaned you, you know you’ll never be quiet like she needs you to be. She tugs at the waistband, taking your underwear with it. 

You are now butt naked on her bed. And god, the air is hitting the wetness between your legs is titillating. 

“Listen, sweets,” She whispers, palming your thighs with her tattooed hands, “I’m going to make you cum on my tongue first. Then I am going to fuck this pussy so good, you won’t know any other cock but the fake one in my side table. You hear me?”

Your stomach is in knots, but you know that this is what you really want. “Okay, Ellie. Please do whatever you think I will like.”

“You’re gonna like it all, baby girl. And if it gets a bit dodgy, you just let me know and we can stop.”

You shake your head positively as she smiles between your legs. She starts by kissing up your thighs, keeping you completely in a trance. When her mouth finds your slit, she licks a long stripe. She takes her time, working her tongue in between your pussy lips. The wet sound that happens when she shakes her head is pornographic. When she finds your clit, she encases it and starts to suck lightly. You scream out in pleasure, never feeling this sensitive before. It usually took a whole lot of Matt lazily fingering you and fucking you to illicit such a response. Ellie is building up an orgasm within you in record time. 

She uses her fingers to open up your pussy a little bit more. You instinctively want to close your legs, but her left arm has your legs locked on her bed. Her middle and index fingers curl inside you with every motion forward. 

Her eyes are closed and you are laser-focused on her expressions. She’s putting her all into making you feel good and it’s relieving to watch someone put so much care into it. 

You notice the small little freckles that scatter across her nose get lighter as they reach her cheekbones. She’s so fucking pretty. 

“Jesus, you’re doin’ so good sweetheart. You feel so good.”

“Oh my god, Ellie, please don’t stop,” Your voice is strained, begging her to continue fucking you. She chuckles and begins to pick up speed. Your mind is cluttered, unsure how you can feel this good. 

When the peripherals of your vision begin to get white, you know it’s over. She latches her lips back onto your clit, humming to drag the orgasm out of you. When it happens, your deep guttural moans get muffled by her palm.

You think your heart is going to stop beating. 

Once you begin to feel your muscles relax, Ellie is crawling on top of you, hovering over your chest, her lips kissing your collarbones.

“You did such a great job, baby girl,” She dotes, her short hair falling across her forehead, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.”

Your heart swells up a thousand sizes. You never got called that before, let alone felt sexy. But Ellie had this aura to her. She made you feel sexy, desirable, wanted. 

Your hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “Please show me more.”

She nods, before she leans back on her knees. She balances on one leg before shoving her pajama shorts down. The ink travels to every part of her body and you wonder if the ones around her hips hurt. The snakes that travel up her thighs, have their heads resting right on her hip bones. 

You sit up and observe her movements, she’s fumbling with something in her drawer. She seemingly cannot find what she’s looking for and slams it shut. 

“How about this,” She says with a huff, “I want you to see what it feels like to grind that pretty little pussy on mine anyway. The strap will have to wait.”

You feel the blood drain from your face, “The strap?”

She giggles at your not-so-faux innocence. “We will try that next time.”

You aren’t ready for her to grab onto your legs and move you like a rag doll around her bed. She rests her body horizontally from yours, her lower half lining up with yours. You were not sure how this worked, but you had heard of scissoring before. The technicality was lost on you. 

You sit up waiting for instruction, but Ellie is so hypnotized by your wet slit, she doesn’t even look at you. You watch her reach out and touch your dripping center and it sends an electric shock down your limbs. You throw your head back, hissing at the action. 

“God, that cunt is so pretty.”

You finally look back at her, wanting nothing more but to fuck her like she fucked you. So in return for her toying with you, you hastily reach out and touch her pussy. You are confused by what to do, but by her reaction, you know you did something right. 

“Tell me what we are doing,” You beg, closing your legs in closer to hers. She nods, watching your fingers pull apart her pussy lips. 

“Pull your cunt against mine and ride me like you’d ride Matt’s dick.”

You halt your movements, “Ride him?”

“You’ve never ridden him before?”

Your response was your silence. You had never explored much with him, simply because he was quick to get his nut before traversing to other territories. 

She helps you sit up, hover your cunt over hers. You can not lie, the sight of her sticky wet pussy was hot. She guides you down so your mound is on hers. She bites her lip as you practically drool watching your purely untouched body against her painted figure. 

“Now move your hips back,” Her hands are gripping onto your hips, showing you the way, “And forth.”

The friction is immediately overstimulating, but it feels like an itch you’ve never scratched. So fucking delicious. 

“Shit…” You groan at the response your body is giving you.

“Practice makes perfect, baby. Keep moving those hips.” 

You have never been on top, but it’s almost freeing to be in control of the movements. You weren’t sure what you should grip onto as you rubbed your pussy against hers, so you grip onto your own shoulders. Your hips gyrate, the slickness between your legs starts trailing down to Ellie’s navy blue sheets. 

“God, this pussy is so fucking perfect,” Ellie says through gritted teeth. She holds down your hips, somehow trying to get you closer to her.

“It’s yours.” You whine, letting the lust take over your speech. You had no clue what that meant for this situation, you just knew that Ellie knew how to fuck you and it was bliss. Your hands leave your shoulders and eventually find Ellie’s tits.

“This pussy is mine? The first cunt you fuck is the cunt you fuck forever?”

You want to laugh, but the bubble in your stomach is about to burst already with how fucked out of your mind you are. “If the cunt is yours, then yes. I want this forever.”

Ellie sucks on her two fingers before she reaches down, finding the very top of your cunt, and begins to press down on that sensitive little bud. The saliva only mixes with the messiness of your liquids. You squeeze her nipples in response. 

“Never going back to my stupid fuckin’ brother, hm? This pussy belongs to me.”

“Yes, Ellie, fuck!” 

She smiles at your quickening pace. She knows you’re reaching your breaking point, and she knows that she’s close herself. 

“Come for me, baby. Come all over my fuckin’ cunt.”

You jolt forward, your hips stilling over hers. You don’t know if you’ve felt a sensation quite like it. You had tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body felt like a volcano erupting. The curses leaving Ellie’s lips as she came from your orgasm only added to the high you felt. You knew words were leaving your mouth, but they were just jumbled together strings of sentences. 

“Jesus Christ…”

“It feels so good…”

“I want this pussy forever…”

You fall over next to Ellie, your legs still intertwined with hers. She was trying to catch her breath, her body still jittery from her high. 

“That was per-”

“Babe!!”

Your stomach drops to your ass when you hear Matt’s voice.

You jump up from Ellie’s bed, finding the closest clothes you can grab at. Ellie does the same, but takes her time throwing a tank top over her bed head. His footsteps are practically running up the steps. 

You are still wobbly on your legs, practically falling over trying to put on the pants she loaned you. You just keep saying “fuck” over and over again, knowing that you two will probably be caught. You just finished putting on a shirt when he barges into the room. 

He’s drunk. 

“What are you still doing in here?” He asks you in an accusatory slurred voice. Collin is close behind him, trying to shush him.

“Chill, dude. I was just showin’ her some of my art.” Ellie defends, plopping down on her bed. She’s trying to mask the fact that her bed is wet with your cum. 

While he blabs about how Ellie sucks at art, which he is very wrong about, you notice a red blotch on his shirt collar. You zero in on it because you fucking knew. 

“Matt, what’s on your neck?” You interrupt.

He stops his rant to look down at you. His eyes are bloodshot. He’s so gone that his mind can’t make up an excuse. 

“It’s from Sophie,” He blurts out, his lips getting ahead of his brain. Ellie pauses and the entire room goes dead silent. You had no idea what to say back to that. You had no clue who Sophie was. You honestly did not care, your relationship was already done in your head. You were just kind of shell-shocked that it happened exactly how your mind doctored it.  

You glance over at Ellie who is already looking at you. Collin clears his throat. 

“I think this a conversation for the morning,” Collin says, grabbing Matt’s arm to tug him out of the room. 

You nod, “Yeah, Collin, great idea. Why don’t you take Matt to bed? Tuck him in and give him a sweet kiss like Sophie did.”

Matt’s face turns bright red, the same thing it always did when he got mad at you. Before he could lash out at you, Collin drags him out of the room and into the hall. Before shutting the door behind him, he says, “I’m sorry.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “It’s fine. It’s not the first time. But it will be the last.”

When the door clicks shut, you hear Matt whisper yelling at Collin about how big of a bitch you are. How you didn’t deserve him. Yadda-yadda-yadda. 

Ellie just gawks at you. The tone of the room changed so drastically so quickly that you felt almost disconnected from reality. 

“You okay?” She asks innocently, her hand holding onto your shoulder. 

Your legs are still weak. “Yeah, I think I’ll need more practice though.”

She is confused, you can tell by the look on her face. “Huh?”

“I’ll need more practice riding you. And, hey, you didn’t get to use that fake dick on me, remember?”

-

taglist (for those who said they wanted this haha)

@cavillscurls @satellitespinner @mourningdovee @hockeyhughes @stonerzdaze420692 @00ops1e @sunflowerwinds @holilogram @whoucallingalesbian @aurelialuna

[jadequarze]

Ko-fi CR request sketches

Thank you for letting me try something new and I think will probably open again in the future

[senoleaf]

could you make more sun and moon siren art it was amazing love ya

here they are, hope you like it! haven't drawn those two in a while...!

also here's the uncolored version cause i kinda like it

[stolenviolet]

You know what they say...practice makes perfect!