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itsgrimeytime · 3 days

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feelin' flirty || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: Being a long-lost friend of Maggie's, you wind up at the prison, a line of dead walkers behind you. You are promptly confronted with one Rick Grimes, and it's suddenly your life's goal to flirt with him as much as you can. Rick doesn't usually respond, but what if one day he does?

TWs: innuendos, talk of sex, shameless (and I mean shameless) flirting, mention of both Beth and Hershel's deaths, gunshot wound, blood, guns, knives, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Tumblr has deleted this THREE times. I am furious, hello??? Also, someone should've been hardcore flirting with Rick, I'll say it. That's what this is based on. Do I have social anxiety? Yes, but am I still writing this? I am. Don't ask questions. ALSO, I do not know the TWD timeline at all, so I am making it up, thank you. Enjoy :))) ]]

With one last stab, you finished off the last... zombie? You didn't really call them anything, since you were alone. Maybe you should think about that a little more.

Wordlessly, you turned and stabbed another square in the head. Undead? No. Zombie? No, too cliché-

Another one.

It went on like that for a few more minutes, before you took a breath -with no answer to your question. Frowning at your knife being covered in... guts, for lack of a better word, you crouched down and wiped it on the grass.

What was that, 15? You didn't really count, but you should have. You were trying to get a new personal best actually-

"Hey!"

You froze, pocketing your knife, before spinning on your heel. The voice was fairly distant, so you weren't worried. Instead, close enough for it to matter, was a big building with high walls and barbed wire at the top of them. A prison. Huh.

"Up here!" The voice called again, and you startled.

Shading your eyes from the sun, you looked up into the watchtower, and sure enough, there was a silhouette. A guy, you think, with dark hair. That was about all you could say.

"Yeah?" You called back, curiously.

"That was cool as shit!"

You laughed out, probably for the first time in months, "Thank you, mysterious stranger!"

"Glenn!" He clarified.

Huh, you pursed your lips, before responding, "Y/N!"

"Nice to meet you!"

You laughed again, before feeling a pain in your stomach. When was the last time you'd eaten? You paused, trying to think. Three days ago (there was a box of Twinkies that hadn't expired yet in a stranded supermarket). Not great.

"Hey, Glenn?" You yelled, a little hopeful.

"Yeah?"

You pursed your lips, before deciding -taking a chance, really, "You got any food in there?"

Now, you were walking through the gate, which was a little dramatic. But, you kinda liked it. It felt like you were kind of a big deal, well, until there was a swarm of eyes on you. All different kinds.

You froze, licking across your teeth.

And then, a man ran up to your side -gasping a little. Was that Glenn? How did he-

He offered his hand to shake, and you accepted it -looking at the crowd, a little defensively.

"Are they going to kill me? Or...?"

"Shit," he turned to them, "-They just want some food, guys, c'mon!"

None of them even flinched.

"I don't bite," you joked, before frowning, "-shit. That was in bad taste-"

And then, a voice called out into the tense air.

"Y/N?"

You peeked over heads, looking, because-

Your eyes locked onto hers, and you nearly jumped in place -big smile blooming along your lips, "Holy shit, Mags?!"

You'd been friends, back in high school. You'd left junior year and tried to keep in touch. It just didn't work out. (You can't even remember now if it was her or you who stopped, at this point.)

Before she could so much as reply, you ran to her -arms wide open. She eagerly reciprocated, spinning a little with the force -you'd gotten pretty good at running at this point.

"What the fuck?" You breathed into her shoulder, and she laughed big and loud, "-What are the chances?"

With a thought, you pulled back -still holding her shoulders, "Are your Dad and Beth here?"

"Yeah," she cheered, and something in you felt relieved. Thank god, they were okay.

"And, you?" She offered, a little hesitantly -notable lack at your side.

You pressed your lips together, swallowing, and shook your head, "Been alone since the beginning."

Maggie frowned, hand coming up to rest on your arm and squeezing once.

"Only lived with my boyfriend," you explained, eager to lighten the mood, "-and he actually cheated on me, so. Wasn't the worst lost."

She laughed a little, before asking -carefully, "And your family?"

Something in your chest stung, you wordlessly shook your head. (Visions of unhinged jaws and blood filling it.)

She frowned, whispering her apologies before hugging you again. You leaned into it that time.

And then, you jumped back, excited, "You have to bring me to your family, Mags, it's been so long-"

"Ya 'ave to talk to Rick first," a voice grumbled out behind you.

You spun on your heel, facing a man. Tall, brunette, dark eyes, arms crossed in front of him (strong, you noted), but you could tell in his stance. He was a layer of stone walls, and you did not want to mine.

And then, your eyes smoothed across his back. Is that a fucking crossbow? Sick.

"Whose Rick?" You asked instead, Maggie still holding your arm.

"Whose askin'?"

That, was a good voice. Was your first thought as you turned back around, and your eyes landed on a figure.

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

He was tall, stood like he owned the place (and based on the recommendation, maybe he did), all broad shoulders and strong gaze. Speaking of gaze, he had probably the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. And his hair was brown and curly, a few hung forward on his face. His jaw was unspeakable, and his button-up shirt had a few extra buttons undone to account for the heat. Holy shit.

Maggie elbowed you, and you blinked.

"Uh, me," you answered, clearing your throat -motioning to Glenn, "-he said you had some food and I'm... hungry."

Maggie promptly stomped on your toe. You pressed your lips together trying not to laugh, carefully looking over his face to see if he'd picked up on it at all. Nothing. A shame, really.

Oh well, maybe next time.

"Look, Rick," she interrupted your thoughts, "-I know 'em, really well. Y/N is a good person."

Rick's eyes dipped to you, looking you over. Oh, the words were right there on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy-

You're trying to survive, Y/N, your mind pressed, focus.

You bit at your lip, but before you could speak for yourself, Glenn did.

"I saw 'em take on a swarm outside," he added, eyes darting to Maggie (Huh.), "-without breaking a sweat."

There are other things I can do without breaking a sweat, your brain immediately remarked, this really was too easy.

Rick seemed to think about it a second, before turning to you, "Ya got a gun?"

I'd like to be loaded with-

"No," you cleared your throat, pulling out your knife (it was one of those multicolored ones, it's why you liked it clean), "-just this."

He hummed, tilting his head with a mouth shrug, "'At's impressive."

I bet your-

You pinched your arm, swallowing, "So, what? Am I in or not?"

Rick's eyes flicked up and down you again (so easy), before he decided, "Ya can stay."

That brings you to now, sitting with Maggie outside with a can of baked beans and a spoon in your hands.

You currently had quite the view of Rick working on the farm, sweat dripping down his brow, strained arms. You'd never thought about farming in that way, but now you were.

"Is his full name Richard?" You asked, curiously.

Maggie turned to you, watching the trail of your eyes to see what you were looking at. She rolled her eyes, "I don't know."

You put a spoonful into your mouth, humming around it, "There's a reason they call them 'Dick', you know."

"Oh my god," she shoved into you -making you laugh a little. You stared down into your can.

"I'm just saying," you stressed, "-he's hot enough for it."

Maggie paused a second, before deciding to say, "His wife died."

"Shit," your smile fell.

"Died in childbirth," she continued, something distant in her eyes -you wondered what exactly it was.

"How long ago?" You asked gently, looking at him in a new light -sympathizing.

"Few months," she answered, a little shortly. You pursed your lips, debating whether to say anything. Or if you even should.

Maggie clarified, herself, "I delivered the baby. Judith, her name is Judith."

"Fuck, Mags," you fully turned to her, putting the can by your feet, "-I'm so sorry."

She took a deep breath in and out, and you wrapped an arm around her shoulders pushing her into your side, "Thanks."

"No problem," you hummed, picking your can back up and letting your eyes drift to Rick again, adding, "-I'm great with babies, you know."

"You're ridiculous," she laughed, taking the bite you offered her.

"What?" You asked, "-Staring isn't bad. He's practically a piece of art, I'm just..."

He turned to the two of you then, blue eyes flickering along your faces -you did not move your gaze at all.

Instead, you gently waved, finishing, "-admiring him."

Rick furrowed his eyebrows for a second, waving back, and then, shaking his head smiling. Count that as a win.

You gnawed at your lip a second, "Do you think he picked up on my 'hungry' thing? I was looking at him and I-"

Maggie laughed, "He definitely did. Everyone did, Y/N, you're shameless."

"It's the apocalypse," you urged, "-who gives a fuck about shame anymore? Rick is hot, and as long as he lets me, I will flirt with him. The more you resist, the more I commit. You remember James in first period?"

She hummed, "I do."

"I chased him for half a year," you continued, swirling the spoon around the can, "-and it worked, didn't it? Guys hardly get properly flattered," your eyes dipped back to him, tone going low, "-I don't mind taking on that duty for the population."

Maggie laughed again, as you just kept your eyes on him. He had dirt on his hands now, wiping at his brow, and just a few curls hung forward on his forehead. God, how did you find him in the apocalypse?

"How valiant," she deadpanned, "-You're a real hero."

"Look, just because you have a type, Glenn, and you bagged him-"

"How did you-"

"Please," you teased, "-he practically ate you earlier with his eyes. Back to my point, I, at least, get to look."

She turned to you, "Ya don't want to date him?"

"Who said that, Mags?" You smirked, turning to her with a smile with eyes that spoke for themselves.

"You know he has kids, right?" She questioned, looking at you.

"So?" you waved the spoon around in your hand, "-Single dads? Hot. Kids? Cute. Where's the loss?"

Maggie looked at you a moment, before shaking her head, "You are clinically insane."

"Maybe," you offered, still watching him, "-but the world's fucked up too. So, at least, I'm not alone."

She laughed really hard at that one, and you felt eyes all over switch to you. Blue ones too. People didn't really seem to laugh around here, so you decided that was your mission too, get people to laugh more. Maybe they could go hand-in-hand.

Time to get to work.

Daryl was sitting across from you, you'd been bugging him for the past few weeks and he'd finally relented. It wasn't easy, but you were nothing if not persistent (hence the Rick situation). Or maybe stubborn. Both? Whatever.

"Daryl, listen," you pointed out, "-you have to take time to load up the bow."

"'At don't mean nothin'," he countered.

"It does," you stressed, explaining, "-in the amount of time it takes you to put in a new arrow, I would have killed at least two."

Daryl rolled his eyes, "It doesn't take 'at long."

"Who said it takes me long to kill two walkers?"

Rick walked by then, and Daryl stopped him.

"Rick, please, take 'em away from me," he spoke out, gruff, but something in you could tell that he wasn't being serious. The guy wasn't half the mystery you expected him to be.

Rick laughed a little at the plea, eyes on you, "What are ya doin' to him?"

"It's not that bad," you laughed, explaining, "-I was just talking about if we were pit against each other to kill the most walkers in a minute. And who would win."

"An' ya want me to help decide?"

"Daryl does," you clarified, "-I am fully confident in my abilities."

Rick laughed a little (another win), "Well, I kno' Daryl's skills, so tell me yours, so it's even."

You bit at your lip, debating. God, it would be so easy. All you had to do was-

"Well," you smiled, playfully, "-I'm told I'm very good with my hands."

He blinked, and it was silent a moment before you heard a snort beside you. You immediately flung to look at him, you had just made Daryl laugh-

"No way," you stressed out, throwing yourself to your feet -pointing at him, "-you just laughed at me."

Daryl pressed his lips together into a thin line, sniffing once, "No, I didn't."

You spun to Rick, and he was already looking at you, you didn't think about it too much.

"Rick," you begged, "-c'mon. I know you and him are like... buddies, but I-"

"Buddies?" He quirked a brow, smiling. Something stirred in your stomach.

"Look, I don't fucking know," you rolled your eyes, "-just agree with me."

He bit down a smile at you, before turning to Daryl, "Ya did laugh at 'em."

"Ha," you cheered, "-I made Daryl Dixon laugh. And, I would win against you."

"He didn't say 'at," Daryl instantly defended.

"Didn't have to, Dixon," you mocked, playfully, "-it's about time management."

"Time management?" Rick questioned curiously.

"Okay, think of this, Rick," you explained, leveling him with your full focus (god he was handsome), "-when you fight with a bow, or a gun for that matter, you have to reload."

He grinned a little at you.

"Follow me, follow me," you hummed, pulling out your knife, "-when you have a physical sort of attack method, like a knife, you don't have that same time issue."

"Ya kinda do though," he interjected.

You paused, looking at him -thoughtfully, "How so?"

"Body's gotta build up energy again," he reasoned (with too much thought for this dumb conversation, smart too? god has favorites), "-Stamina is key to attackin'."

You rolled your lip in between your teeth, he had to be doing this on purpose at this point. Seriously.

"Trust me, sheriff," you spoke -a teeny bit teasing but otherwise very genuine, "-there is no problem with my stamina."

Rick bit back a laugh, turning his head to the side and smiling. You thought you saw a little red on the tips of his ears. Cute. You were unraveling the layers of one Rick Grimes, that was progress.

Daryl didn't even try to hide it that time, letting a gruff chuckle leave his lips, "'M glad I'm not your focus for 'at."

You patted his shoulder, standing up, "It'll be devastating one day, Robin Hood. Don't come crying to me when it is."

"Did ya just call me Robin Hood?"

Rick laughed at that one, head tilting up to the sky. You smiled wide.

"Look at that," you hummed, proud, "-a two for one. Which-"

They both looked at you, but you stuck to your guns. And you smirked a little.

"-honestly, I would not mind," you added -thoughtfully, "-Think about it, and get back to me."

You walked backward a few steps, watching as Rick smiled at you before turning back to fix his gaze on Daryl. Smiling at the ground, you spun on your heel, and went off to find someone else to pester.

You felt a pair of eyes follow you though, and you maybe grinned a little brighter.

Now, you were wandering off on your own. On your own run, you liked to do that sometimes. Maggie nearly had a heart attack because of it, but what damage you did get was usually minor. Except for once, but that wasn't your fault. Well it was, you smashed a window with your fist to see if you could do it. And you could, which was impressive.

Now, you were strolling through an old novelty store -little knick-knacks. Finding some figurines, you grabbed a superhero one and stashed it away. Your eyes caught on a DVD player, the kind for both music and movies, and you picked it up -turning it over in your hands. Battery powered.

On a mission to find both DVDs and some batteries, you roamed through some aisles -particularly a mug one.

Peeking through at some of them, you paused. Taking your pack off and slipping the DVD player into it (along with the few good DVDs you found, no batteries though) on top of some canned food you'd found, you zipped it up. And with a breath, grabbed a mug.

Smiling big, you made your way out of the store.

When you got back to the prison, Maggie was waiting for you -tapping her feet, anxiously. She was a little like a mother, you weren't sure how you felt about it. But you loved her so, you dealt with it.

"Hey Mags," you cheered, mug handle twisted between your fingers.

She instantly relaxed, eyes scanning you over before dropping to the mug. She frowned.

"Please, tell me-"

"I got some food," you sighed, "-I'm not entirely useless."

She pursed her lips, "And the mug?"

You grinned, holding it up for her to see -tapping your fingers along both sides. Her eyes skimmed over it before she frowned (biting back a smile, you could tell).

"Seriously?" She asked.

"What?" You responded, groaning, "-I can't get gifts?"

She shoved into your side, and before you could take too many steps, you were met with your target -leaning against the fence, few steps from Maggie. Was he waiting for you too?

"Rick," you dropping your hands, particularly to avoid him from reading the text, "-what are you doing here?"

"Ya do 'at a lot?" He asked, a little pointedly. You thought you recognized something a little like worry in it, "-Go off on your own?"

Huh.

"Yeah," you laughed a little, "-you haven't noticed? I've been getting like... half the food we have."

Rick hummed (a little in appreciation) before his eyes dropped to your hands, "And what's 'at?"

"A gift," you extended it to him, unflinchingly.

He pulled himself from his spot on the wall, walking forward and accepting it. His fingers (great fingers, really. Was that weird to say?) wrapping around it, you noticed for a second that your fingers brushed -your breath halted a little in place.

"A mug?" He asked looking at you for a second, eyebrows furrowed.

You took your hand, and spun it around in his hands -brushing his skin against yours, "The other side."

He smiled a little, laughing.

Right there on a rather plain mug, were the words '#1 HOT DAD'.

He bit back a smile, eyes peeking up at you again, "Ya really ain't gonna let 'is go, are ya?"

"Nope," you popped the 'p', before clarifying, "-unless you want me to."

Rick licked a line against his teeth, grinning a little with something in his eye, "Who said 'at?"

"Noted," you smiled back, something fluttering in your chest, "-now, where's Carl? I got him something good."

"Ya got him somethin' too?"

He was looking at you a little curiously, like he was seeing new layers of you. You kind of wanted to squirm a little at his gaze. You were not used to people figuring you out.

You sighed, quickly turning your pack to the front and unzipping it. With a breath, you dug around and pulled out the figurine -Rick's eyes caught on it immediately. A small smile creeping along his mouth.

"He told me once he liked comics," you clarified, clearing your throat, "-figured he would like this. You... You think he will?"

"He'll love it," he answered, something new in his eyes, "-C'mon, I'll take ya to him."

On the way there, he seemed to pause a moment, something on his mind. You patiently waited for him to say it.

"'Saw somethin' else in 'ere," he mindlessly remarked, as the mug swung between his fingers "-What is it?"

"Oh," you pulled your pack foward again, excited, extending the figurine to him for safekeeping (he took it with a smile), "-a DVD player."

You held it in your hands, showing to him.

"Found some DVDs, good ones," you continued, before putting it back in your bag, and accepting the figurine back (your fingers brushed again), "-no batteries though."

Rick hummed, pursing his lips like he was thinking about something. He didn't say a word though.

You didn't have much time to think about it, because a few days after that, the prison fell. You'd escaped with Rick and Carl, but you weren't exactly yourself. Not after everything.

There was Judith, and Maggie, and... and Beth and Hershel. Every day felt like there was bile turning in your stomach; every time you closed your eyes, you saw someone... someone dead.

You were lying against the grass, looking up at the stars -it was still so pretty. Despite it all, the sky was still the same. Bright and twinkly. It was when everyone was on the road, wandering for a place to go. You just couldn't sleep, so you took it upon yourself to just look at the sky. You thought the clouds might be pretty, but the night was a little breathtaking.

"Ya awake?"

You didn't say a word.

"C'mon, Y/N, I know ya are."

"Yeah, I am," you sighed, saying shortly, "-Can't sleep."

There was an echo of footsteps, and then you felt body heat beside you. There was a beat.

"Ya ain't gonna say anythin'?" Rick hummed, turning his head to face you.

You matched his eyes (he's probably more handsome now, honestly), "About what?"

"Me, ya know," he motioned, to your side, "-layin' with ya."

You laughed at him a little, before teasing, "Awe, you miss it, don't you, sheriff?"

"Not a sheriff anymore," he hummed, something a little heavy in his voice.

"Eh," you shrugged, looking back to the stars, "-you still are in my mind."

Rick smiled at you, wordlessly.

Before you added, plainly, "Mostly because I love a man in uniform."

He laughed then, big and bright, and you felt something warm in your chest that you knew but hadn't felt in a while.

You wanted to be genuine, really genuine.

"You are a good man, Rick," you turned to look at him, and he looked straight back, "-We've all done shit we never should've, and maybe it's fucked us up a little bit, moved our path in the wrong direction once or twice, but-"

You looked back up to the sky, still feeling his eyes on you. It was kind of like a dream, like the apocalypse wasn't real for a second, just you and Rick. And maybe you wanted that a lot more than you knew.

"-you've got a big heart, Rick," you finished, soundly, "-And even if sometimes you lose sight of what you're doing, or maybe who you are, that... that doesn't change."

Rick didn't say anything for a moment, words echoing out into the night air. You couldn't find it in yourself to regret them, though. You never really regret what you said these days, there was no reason too.

You really only regret what you didn't say. Maybe to people who aren't around anymore. Your heart sunk a little in your chest, but it felt a little lighter -just a smidgen. (Maybe because of who you were with.)

"I got somethin' for ya," Rick suddenly spoke, sitting up (you followed suit).

You furrowed your eyebrows, "You got me something? When?"

Mindlessly, he replied, "On the last run."

You pursed your lips but waited patiently. He moved over to his pack, unzipping one of his pockets and pulling something out -you couldn't quite see. Trying to peek you moved over a little, but nothing.

With a breath, he stood back up and waltzed over to you (somehow he made walking hot, they needed to research that), extending it forward right into your face.

You blinked, gently taking it into your hands and looking at it closely. It was dark so you couldn't really-

Batteries. He handed you a pack of AA batteries.

"No way," you laughed out, "-you remembered that?"

"I remember a lot of what ya say," he offered casually, and you felt something shoot down your spine. And with a breath, he sat right beside you, so close your knees bumped a little.

Pulling your bag over to you, you dug around in it. You'd kept the DVD player and DVDs, not really with the hope of finding batteries. But, to feel a little human, remember life before.

You'd taken to putting stickers on it when you saw any, so the top of it was covered in an assortment. You ran your fingers over it a second, taking it in, before flipping it over. Popping open the little tab, you let out a breath of relief when it was AAs.

Rick laughed.

"I was going to be so pissed if it wasn't," you spoke, "-you have no idea."

He just looked at you then, in a way you'd seen before but never really thought about. You turned back to your bag, shuffling around to find your stash.

"You want music or a movie?"

"Movie's fine," he hummed, and you still felt his eyes trained solely on you. You tried to shake it off.

"Let's see," you pulled out a few of the movies you had, showing them to Rick, "-I've got... a kid's animated movie, or... a... cheesy romcom!"

Rick stared at you, instead of the movies, before flickering to them.

Rambling, you continued, "I also picked up some horror stuff, but I... I really think that was a bad move on my part."

He laughed again, just looking at you in a way you didn't really know how to label. Or react to. You were kind of a little overwhelmed at the fact that he'd even gotten you the batteries, and then the way he was looking at you-

"Think romcom sounds good," he interrupted your thoughts, scanning over you.

"Alright," you acknowledged, putting the other ones up, and scooting back next to him -not enough to touch. It was a little awkward and you weren't sure how you were going to-

"I don't bite ya know," he quipped, laughing a little.

You turned to him, grinning, "Well maybe I do."

Rick laughed again for a moment, just looking at you. And then he extended out an arm, welcoming you into his side.

You paused a moment, before carefully guiding yourself to slot into him; the back of your head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around the back of your shoulders. You brought your knees up, to carefully balance the DVD player (shaped like a little laptop really). A tiny little screen for the two of you to see on. Logistically, that's why you were so close but a part of you thought a little otherwise.

"I don't," you hummed.

"What?"

"I don't bite."

He laughed a little, "Good."

"Unless you want me to-"

And the laughter that filled the night was just between you and him. And maybe in the morning, you were fast asleep on his shoulder and maybe he looked at you a little like you were the greatest thing he'd ever seen and maybe he shushed all the others just to have the moment last even a second longer.

You'd never really know.

Now, you were in Alexandria. You'd gotten Maggie back, you'd gotten Judith back. You were on a new high, and that meant two things. More pestering, and two, flirting with Rick.

You were walking through Alexandria with Maggie, just keeping her on her feet really. She wasn't super pregnant yet, and it was good to be healthy.

"I cannot believe you're pregnant," you mindlessly remarked, holding Judith close to your side.

"I have been," she retorted, "-for a while. Think ya have had time to digest it."

"But, it's like physical proof that you fucked," you commented, "-unprotected, by the way. I know you missed that sex-ed day, but seriously-"

"Carl's proof that Rick fucked," Maggie defended, eyes smoothing over him with a few of his friends.

"Well," you pursed your lips, "-I know that Rick fucked. Just on principle, he's-"

She motioned for you to zip it, "Don't start. I know you are doin' good, which is great. But it also means ya become a lil' unbearable."

"Me? Unbearable?" You turned to Judith, cooing a little, "-Can you believe the nerve of her, Jude?"

Judith smiled at you with her big brown eyes and toothless little mouth. You pinched her cheek, instinctively, "So cute."

"I still can't believe that you're in love with Ri-"

"I told you that in confidence," you interrupted, pointed.

Maggie stuck out her tongue at you and Judith laughed a little at it. Funny faces, right. You could physically see the pregnancy hormones on her face as she cooed at Judith.

You would've said something, but you had just done it yourself.

"Where's your keeper anyway?" You hummed like you'd been stuck with her (you actively searched her out).

"'E's not my keeper," she responded, sternly (mom voice, already?), "-and he's out on run, gettin' supplies."

"If he's not your keeper, how'd you know who I was talking about?"

"You are so-"

Before she could finish such a kind sentence, the two of you were interrupted. A presence waltzing up to your side.

You turned to look who, and-

Your heart lept into your throat. It was Rick, now clean-shaven, and although, you had loved the beard (don't even get you started), his jaw was on full display. Blue, blue eyes. And dipping to his clothes, he was in a damn uniform.

"Look at you, Rick," you complimented, smiling.

"'Heard ya liked a man in uniform," he smiled (a new type of way), and winked. And before you could say a word, he walked forward -past you.

You stuttered to a stop, Maggie right beside you. Blinking you turned to her, and she looked right back at you. And then you both turned to look at Rick, still walking the same way he was.

Turning back forward, you opened your mouth, "Sorry, did that just happen?"

Maggie hummed, pulling you with her, "It did."

"How did I never think of that?"

"Think of what?" She offered, as you smoothed back into a step with her.

You answered, eyebrows furrowing, "That he might flirt back."

She shrugged, "If it helps, I never thought he would."

"I am not against shoving a pregnant woman," you hissed back, with no bite. You never really had any. And you both broke into laughter, as you roamed through Alexandria.

Now, Daryl was leaning against a house as you stood beside him -pestering as always.

"No, listen," you turned to him, attentively, "-it's called fuck, marry, kill-"

"I ain't playing it with ya."

"C'mon, Daryl, it's fun, look-" you flagged down Glenn (who was carrying a box, of what, who knows?), "-Glenn, fuck, marry, kill. Michonne, Carol, and Daryl."

"Easy," he laughed, "-fuck Michonne, marry Carol, and sorry, dude, but kill Daryl."

"See?" You motioned to Glenn, as he walked forward.

"Don't ya 'ave a wife?" Daryl remarked, as Glenn moved along.

"Oh please," you shook your hand dismissively, "-it's all just fun. Just hypothetical scenarios."

"Okay, now," you started over, "-fuck, marry, kill. Deanna-"

"Kill," he answered -unflinchingly.

"See!" you cheered, "-you're getting the hang of it-"

"What are the two of ya doin'?"

You turned to see the one and only Rick Grimes, a little more worn today, which you kind of preferred, still had those bandaids on (how did he make that look hot?), and more casually dressed. In the white t-shirt, we trust.

"I'm teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill," you answered, eyes solid on him, "-obviously."

Before he could respond, Daryl chimed up, something mischievous in his eyes. You squinted at him, trying to figure it out. And then he opened his mouth.

"I got one," he spoke, a smile teasing on his lips (looking at Rick, directly), "-Y/N, Glenn, and Rosita."

You stared at the eye contact for a moment (everything was so suspicious), before asking, "What am I supposed to do with myself?"

Daryl shrugged, you bit your lip a second.

"I guess I could kill myself, big waste, but-" you paused, "-ooh, wait, I could, like, clone situation fuck myself-"

"Now, 'at would be a sight to see," a low southern drawl interrupted your words, and your voice faltered to a stop.

You turned to him, squinting at him for a second -trying to understand. All he did was wink at you again, and you hated that it made your knees a little wobbly. Especially when he was holding onto the column of the porch, and slightly leaning toward you-

"Before I was so rudely interrupted," you cleared your throat, "-I would marry Glenn, fuck Rosita, and, tragically, kill myself."

Daryl nodded his head, before motioning to Rick, "What 'bout ya?"

"Am I playin'?" He questioned, finger pointing to himself and eyes dashing to you.

"Might as well," you shrugged, "-you're already over here."

He pursed his lips a second like he was thinking, eyes particularly avoiding you, "An' I can't choose one person for two of 'em?"

You swallowed, oh, he was playing dirty.

"Nope," Daryl answered.

And then, he turned into something much softer, something more familiar, "Then, marry Y/N, fuck Rosita, and kill Glenn."

Marry?

Your heart lept into your throat, and your fingers started fidgeting with your shirt -instinctively. How the hell was he winning? I started this game-

"Thought so," Daryl responded.

And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carol. Her eyes matched yours a second, and you tried to convey how desperate you were to get away from this very scene. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then she spoke.

"Hey, Y/N! Can you come help me with the food?"

"Of course, Carol," you called back, smiling at the two of them, "-sorry, duty calls."

Rick just grinned at you then, like he knew exactly what you were doing. And you were 100% sure he did. Stupid handsome men with stupidly beautiful blue eyes. Ignoring the fact that you physically brushed against him to get off the porch, you frantically caught up to Carol.

You were in the pantry now, gathering ingredients, Carol directing you -naming them as she found them.

"So," she looked at you, "-are you gonna tell me what that was about?"

You pursed your lips, before answering, "Rick's flirting back with me."

Carol raised her eyebrows at you, "Huh."

"And I was teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill, and he-" you rapted your fingernails along one of the cans, "-and he said he'd marry me. But all... genuine and shit."

"And that's bad?"

"No, no," you shook your head, putting the can into a basket, "-It's not bad. Just... I don't know if he means it."

"You just said that he said it genuinely," Carol pointed out, grabbing another can.

"Well yeah, but-" you scrambled a moment, "-all that time ago, I was flirting genuinely. I mean even though it was playful, it was still genuine."

"And," she connected the dots, "-you're not sure if he's genuine?"

"Yeah," you skimmed along the shelves, gathering the last can she needed.

"Well," she took it from your hand, blue eyes on you softly, "-if it's worth anything, I think he's genuine. And maybe this is his way of showing how he feels about you."

You hummed, wordlessly.

"He's let you flirt with him this long," she continued, bringing a hand up to your shoulder, "-that has to mean something, doesn’t it?"

She had a point.

"Now," she adjusted the basket, "-are you actually going to help me with the food? Or was it just an excuse to run away from Rick?"

You laughed, "I'll help, I'll help. I'm not a total dick. Speaking of-"

She turned to you.

"Do you know if Rick's full name is Richard?"

It was a few weeks later, and they were filled with frustratingly blue winks. And that was one thing, but now you were being stupid. You were stupid.

You'd thought Oh, it'll be just like old times, I'll go out on a run. It'll be so nice-

And now you were walking with a gunshot would, quickly bandaged by a rip of your t-shirt and whatever you had around you. Which in whatever the hell store it was, was not a lot. All you'd managed to find was alcohol so you at least soaked the shirt.

You'd blearily walked all the way home, eyes foggy, and praying that a walker wouldn't come near you. And now you saw it, Alexandria.

"Gabriel," you called, breathlessly, "-Gabriel, please let me in."

You heard him say something but you were delirious. Maybe something with your name? Head fuzzy and eyes bleary, you were coming down from the high of getting somewhere safe. As you waltzed into Alexandria (pain in the abdomen so hot it almost felt numbing), there was a swarm of people around you immediately. Felt like you were back in the prison, when Maggie would be waiting and you think she was now.

"Hey, hey," she chanted, grabbing your face (and you could see her now), "-look at me, Y/N, tell me what the hell happened."

"Some guy, the bitch," you muttered out, a little slurred you think, "-just shot me, because he wanted the last of the damn Campbell soup, who shoots someone for Campbell soup?"

Her eyes dropped to your body, you mindlessly noted that it was sticky. Your eyes dropped too, and saw all the red -so much red.

"I think I lost a lot of blood, Mags."

"Somebody go get Rick, and the doctor, now," she shouted (loud, loud), before turning back to you, "-How the hell did you get here?"

"I walked," you answered simply.

"You walked?" She responded, hands on your shoulders, "-How did you-"

You were safe now, and everything in your body just gave out.

"Adrenaline is a hell of a drug," you hummed, laughing a little, before falling to the ground.

Your head stung from the ground, as Maggie tried to get down by your side -all pregnant belly.

"'S okay, Mags, don't-" you mumbled "-don't hurt yourself."

She frowned, and you thought she might have tears in her eyes, "I have to stay with you, Y/N, whose going to keep you awake-"

"Glenn," you called, and you saw him saunter up to your side, a little slurred, "-take care of 'er, help her sit. Don't worry, Mags, don't worry-"

You heard a slap of footsteps then, quick and brisk, and before you could wonder who, blue eyes and rough hands were guiding your face. He was starting to grow his stubble back, you mindlessly noted.

"Rick," you smiled a little fuzzily, reaching up and patting his face, "-See Mags, Rick'll take care of me."

"Hey, hey," he brought your focus to him, "-keep lookin' at me, okay?"

"Well," you slurred a little, "-'at's not very hard, sheriff."

He turned to the crowd then, voice low and gruff, "What the hell happened?"

You heard Maggie respond then, through sobs, "'Ey said that some guy shot 'em, over a... over some food."

"Didn't even ask if he could have 'em, first. Who does that-"

"Daryl," he motioned -tone low, and he immediately nodded. You watched him leave your eyesight.

Rick instead, brought your face back to him, as you recognized the doctor to be by your side, scrambling with some white stuff.

"Hey, hey, baby," he spoke, low in a whisper, "-I'm 'ere, focus on me. Look at me."

You smiled again, delirious, "You called me baby, that feels nice. Everythin' else burns-"

"I kno', I kno'," he soothed, you felt pressure on your abdomen (hissing in pain, as your eyes got more blurry), "-ya did a good job gettin' back 'ere. To where you're safe. Ya did a good job."

"Just kept walking," you slurred, "-couldn't stop. Wasn't gonna die to some asshole."

Rick laughed then a little, and you felt something a little different than pain. Your hands naturally came to his face, mindlessly rubbing your thumbs against his cheekbones. He's always been so handsome, only gets better with time.

You noticed he leaned into it a little, careful not to hurt you. Yeah, you realized, he was genuine.

God, what if you had missed out on this, with Rick? All because of some stupid can of soup-

"Rick," you started, and he looked at you a little like you held the world, you were the world maybe, "-I think I'm gonna die."

"You're not, no-" he held his hand over yours (it was so warm. Why had you never held his hand?), "-You're not gonna die, baby. You're gonna be fine."

"I'm bleeding," you breathed out, scanning over him, "-Been bleeding the whole time. You're not supposed to bleed that much, Rick."

"Ya ain't gonna die," he repeated, hands gathering your face, "-Look at me, ya ain't dyin'."

Concern clear on his face, you felt the urge to soothe, soothe, soothe-

You looked at him, eyes scanning over his face. He was handsome, yeah, but he was caring, smart, and so, so kind. You wanted to tell him that, see what he'd say. What he'd do.

"'Said that you were a good man, 'at you have a big heart," you hummed, eyes languidly blinking, "-still mean it. Don't you forget it."

He looked at you for a second, eyes flicking all over your face, before looking to the doctor. She must've said something (your ears felt stuffy) because then Rick was picking you up. He was everywhere, smell, sight. All you could feel was Rick, body heat thrumming and blooming into your side.

"Always knew you were strong," you mindlessly remarked.

You felt Rick laugh in his chest, and your eyelids were so heavy then. You slowly began blinking, your brain slowing down. Maybe you could close your eyes just for a little bit.

"Got so much to say to ya."

And then, it all faded to black.

This blanket is scratchy as hell, you mindlessly remarked. It was almost like a thin sheet, barely coating you, and you think if you moved your arms, it would make that noise that shitty bedsheets did. Why were hospital beds so bad? Shouldn't they be comfortable?

And then your nose was hit with the heavy sterilized air. You scrunched your nose up on instinct, it made your throat burn-

"Y/N? Darlin'?"

You slowly blinked your eyes open, heavy and languid; they always had those florescent lights too. How was that helpful?

"'S too fucking bright in here."

You heard him laugh a little, maybe in relief mostly, and you blearily blinked to get a look at him.

"'D turn it down for ya if I could."

You laughed a little and squinted your eyes open, laying gently on him. He looked a little worse for wear, his hair messy and shirt a little crooked. You wanted to fix his curls back in place, and your hand moved before you could stop it.

Gently, you threaded his hair back. He was a breath away from where you laid, so it wasn't too far of a reach.

Rick looked at you so softly, that the words cut off your from your lips. And with a breath, he pulled your hand down from his hair, sliding it against his cheek. Before you could say a word about it, he turned his head and gently kissed your palm.

You bit at your lip, eyes flickering over him, "How long have you been here?"

"Since the doc' allowed me to be," he answered, fidgeting with your hand -not really wanting to let go, you guessed.

"And Mags?" You asked, concern flickering through your eyes, "-Are she and the baby okay?"

"Yeah," he looked at you, a little in disbelief, "-they're alright. She was stressed, yeah, but Glenn kept 'er calm."

"And," your eyes darted to your abdomen, where your wound now hid, "-the wound?"

"Good," he replied, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't quite believe you were okay, "-Doc' says ya just need to rest, not irritate the stitches. Which I kno' will be hard for ya."

You sighed, leaning your head back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling, "I am going to be so bored."

Rick chuckled a little, before falling suspiciously quiet. You turned to him, just to see him looking down and fidgeting with your hand -a little like he was working on saying something. You simply waited.

"'Ve been looking for those batteries since ya said ya wanted 'em," he spoke, a little quietly.

You froze, "Since the prison?"

"Yeah," he offered, "-apparently 'ey're a hot commodity."

"Why?" You questioned, looking at him curiously, "-Why all that work for some batteries?"

"Because," he hummed simply, eyes matching yours now, "-ya wanted 'em."

You pushed your lips into a thin line, the glimmer of hope sparking in your chest. Not saying a word, you just stared at him for a second; not unlike in the early days, you were just admiring him for a lot more than his (still unbelievably handsome) face.

"Y/N, I-" he started, eyes dipping back down to your hands. He seemed to pause a moment, debating.

And then he looked up at you, eyes set in his path -unflinchingly. In a sort of understanding, like everything made sense to him now. The silence was heavy until he leaned forward and brushed his hand along your cheek -carefully. It made you feel precious, and your eyes maybe got a little cloudy because of it.

"I'm in love with ya," he let out a breath, tone heavy and genuine, "-an... and the way ya blatantly hit on me but in the damn most genuine type of way."

You laughed a little and leaned gently into his palm. He looked at you in a way you couldn't label then, or maybe you could (love), and rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone.

"I didn't know how to react to it, at first," he hummed, something settled in his eyes, "-the attention ya gave me. 'S somethin' I've never dealt with before."

"Really?" You let slip past your lips, and his grin grew wide as he let his head fall and shook it, smiling at the ground.

"Even now," he laughed a little, turning his gaze up again, "-ya always said thin's like it was so easy to do. Like ya were tellin' me 'at the sun was hot."

"You did give me some pretty good set ups," you clarified, smiling at him.

"'Never meant to," he added, grinning a little in wonder, "-I couldn't think straight when ya said 'em, so I'm surprised I even did."

You hummed, eyes twinkling at him and he looked at you just a little more like he was in love. It made a spark shoot down to your toes, warmth flooding your chest.

"If it's worth anything," you spoke, a little embarrassed, "-my brain stops working when you do the fond thing."

"The fond thing?"

"It's just," you sighed, trying to articulate, "-It's a way that you look at me, or... or smile at me. When you do the soft stuff."

"What exactly is-" he hummed, gently, holding your attention like your words really mattered, "-'the soft stuff'?"

"Uh," you blew a raspberry with your lips, "-like giving me the batteries, and... and that whole conversation actually."

"Oh," he laughed a little, blue eyes twinkling, "-like I was in love with ya."

"What? No, you weren't... not that early-"

And then you looked at him.

"Shit," you marveled, "-really?"

"Like I said," he smiled at you, a little like you were cute, "-I looked for those batteries for months. For ya. An'-"

His face got a little more serious.

"-I really missed ya. 'At was probably when I first realized it."

You rolled your lip inbetween your teeth, "Yeah?"

"Ya used to make everybody laugh, and were always smilin'-" he explained, "-it wasn't even just the flirtin', it was just... I knew ya were hurtin', an' I couldn't help. Or I... I didn't know what to do to help."

You just stared.

"An' I missed ya so desperately, I just-" he let out a breath, "-It all clicked into place, and I went on 'at run, hopin' to god there were batteries-"

You laughed a little weepily, leaning into his hand.

"-because I just wanted to make ya feel better. Bring ya back to me."

"How the hell did you even find them?" You questioned, wiping at your eyes, "-It couldn't have been that lucky."

"'Wasn't," he replied simply, "-I was only supposed to do a few stores, I did the whole strip."

"God, really?" You smiled, "-For batteries?"

"No," he hummed, simply, "-for ya."

You fell quiet.

"I would do anythin' for ya," he added, voice a little breathless, "-anythin'."

"Anything?"

Rick laughed a little, grin bright, "Ya need to rest, baby."

"That's not a no," you chimed, grinning.

He looked at you a certain type of way then, "'S definitely not a no."

You felt your heart pound in your chest for a moment. That was something to look forward to. Something stirred in your stomach.

"What?" He asked, teasing, "-Ya all bark and no bite, hmm?"

"If I wasn't bedridden," you spoke flatly, "-I would kick your ass."

"Ya would," he agreed.

And you laughed, eyes smoothing over his face. Before noticing something you hadn't quite said yet.

Words fell out of your lips, "Even though you probably already know, because I've chasing you all this time-"

He smiled at you.

"-I love you too," you finished, "-if it wasn't obvious."

"'Was kinda obvious," he leveled -teasing, but something was sparkling so bright in his eyes that you didn't really mind.

"Yeah, yeah," you moved your hand dismissively, "-don't start, sheriff."

You paused for a moment, eyes dancing along the room, "Do I get to go home today?"

"No," he spoke, with a certainty that shook through your bones (this man had literally everything), "-'Need to be taken care of, so ya are stayin' wit' me until you're healed."

You blinked at him, he was doing the fond thing again. Your mind relaxed to a low hum.

"Maybe after too," he added, tone softer but not any less certain, "-if ya want."

You stared at him, wordless.

Rick blinked, looking at you, before grinning, "'At the fond thing?"

"Yeah," you cleared your throat, embarrassed, "-I don't... It's been a long time since I've been cared for. At all. And you're a very handsome man offering to-"

"Not offerin'," he clarified, eyes set on yours, "-just doin'. 'Specially now, 'cause I kno' ya love me too."

All headstrong, decisive, and certain. How was this happening to you?

"'Thought you said it was obvious?"

"It was," he hummed, grinning at you, "-I could just barely wrap my head around ya flirtin' with me. Couldn't really see it."

You thought for a second, before speaking, "Was it Daryl?"

He grinned at you, tilting his head a little, "Maybe."

"Always knew he was a big softie," you hummed, "-read him like a book when we first met. Stone layers to an ooey-gooey center."

Rick scrunched up his nose, "Ooey-gooey center?"

"Sometimes," you sighed, "-Sometimes I say stupid shit around really attractive people. It's a habit."

"'Guess 'at means you're still gonna be flirting with me?"

"As long as you want me to, sheriff," you clarified.

"So maybe forever then," he grinned and you felt your heart leap into your chest (fuck his fond things). You were totally never getting over that.

"Yeah," you hummed in agreement, "-Maybe forever then."

Mission accomplished.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot

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kennahjune · 3 days

Text

Flustered (But He’d Never Admit It)

Thanks so much to @rogueddie for letting me write this based on their post!!

( @steddiewithachance )

Desperately hope it lives up to standard 🫡

Eddie hadn’t planned on going out, really.

It was a Saturday and he looked forwards to sleeping until noon the next day. Maybe bothering Steve and Robin in Family Video at some point if he decided to grace the people of Hawkins with his presence.

But Nancy of all people had asked him to come. And when Big Wheels asked him to do something, Eddie sure as shit did it.

So he sat in the living room of Steve’s no-longer-really-scarily-empty house. Because Mr and Mrs. Harrington left after the earthquakes and gave the house to Steve. He’s been steadily personalizing it.

Eddie sat between Argyle and Robin on the couch, letting his gaze wander around and land on each photo hanging on the walls.

Nancy and Jonathan sat across from them on the other couch, Nancy’s feet thrown in Jonathan’s lap while he gently rubbed her calfs.

Eddie wasn’t listening too intently to the bickering going on around him, his mind in other places while waiting for Steve.

“HURRY THE FUCK UP, DINGUS!” Robin yelled. Speak of the Devil.

Eddie flinched, as Robin was directly in his fucking ear. He shot her a glare that she returned with a punch to the shoulder.

“HOLD YOUR HORSES, DIMWIT, IM DONE!” was what Steve yelled back from upstairs. Eddie and Argyle snorted at Robin’s offended gasp.

Steve appeared in the living room a few seconds later, struggling to tie his sneakers while hopping on one foot.

“You look like a worm,” Argyle pointed out helpfully.

Steve nearly face planted after he was done, his arms flailing and his hand catching on the back of Jonathan’s head.

“Ouch, dude!!” Jonathan yelled when Steve pulled his hair. Nancy and Robin absolutely cackled at Steve’s unapologetic shrug.

“My bad.”

Jonathan glared and rubbed the back of his head. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Steve fluttered his eyelashes and put a hand on his chest. “You think I’m cute, Jonny? Why, you might as well get down on one knee!”

Robin clapped obnoxiously. “Congratulations on your engagement!”

Nancy gasped, pretending to clutch her pearls. “Jonathan! Another woman? How could you!?”

Jonathan groaned and threw his head back.

“See what you’re doing to this family, Jon!?” Eddie suddenly joined in, surprising a laugh out of everyone; even Jonathan, despite his efforts to remain angry-seeming.

Argyle whistled when they calmed down. “Damn, Stevie. Is that the shirt I got you?”

Robin perked up. “Hey! That’s my button up!”

Steve planted his hands on his hips. “And those are my earrings.”

Robin huffed and rolled her eyes, pretending to pout.

The outfit Steve wore was unlike what Eddie normally saw him in. The same blue jeans as always, though these ones seemed to hug his ass and thighs more (a detail Eddie most certainly saved for later). The button up (that was apparently Robin’s) was white pinstriped, hanging open and unbuttoned to show off the light purple, sleeveless turtle neck (that Argyle got him, apparently).

Eddie kinda wanted to bite him.

Jonathan and Steve were designated drivers. So everyone split between the two cars; Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle in one and Robin, Steve and Eddie in the other.

The bar they went to was a small one but was still packed on such a fine Saturday night. The group was quick to find a corner booth to seat all six of them.

Argyle payed for the first round of drinks, everyone just getting beer. But they were all quick to get to the vodka and other shit.

“You not gonna drink anything else, Stevie?” Eddie asked at one point when he noticed Steve was still nursing his first beer.

“Designated driver, remember?”

Eddie hummed and took his last shot, barely buzzed despite drinking so much already. “I could drive us back if you wanna just drink with everyone else.”

Steve eyed him and didn’t respond for a moment. Eddie was ready to take the offer back, play it off as a joke. It wasn’t even like he said anything flirty or whatever! Steve just made him nervous like that.

“Are you sure?” Steve finally asked, his voice timid even as he raised it to be heard over the music.

Eddie grinned. “‘Course, darlin. Lemme take care of it.”

Steve turned away and downed the rest of his beer quickly. Eddie turned back to Argyle and Nancy’s conversation and failed to see the deep red flush overtaking Steve’s ears.

That was maybe 20 minutes ago.

At this point in time, Steve was definitely passed buzzed and well on his way to drunk.

He was sandwiched between Eddie and Robin, his head leaning on Robin’s shoulder and his hand playing distractingly and absentmindedly with Eddie’s jacket sleeve.

Eddie tried to ignore how sweet Steve looked, his face flushed with the pleasant buzz and his hair kind of getting floppy because he kept playing with it. He looked so cute listening to Jonathan but still so spaced out and almost floaty.

Eddie kind of really maybe wanted to bite him. Maybe make him cry.

Jesus H Christ.

He took a big drink of his water. “I think I’m gonna head out for a smoke, be back in a few.” Eddie carefully removed his sleeve from Steve’s grasp, fighting off the cooing he so desperately wanted to do at the pout the other gave him for it.

Eddie left in no time, letting himself out into an alley next to the bar. His cigarette was short-lived and he went for another 2 after his first.

He refused to let his mind wander, instead focusing on the burn in his throat and the smoke in his lungs. He was sufficiently calmed down after an extra moment, finally going back in after what had to have been just shy of 10 minutes.

Maybe he should’ve stayed outside.

Because Steve was drunk now, to the point that Nancy had cut him off.

It was in that moment, walking back to the booth, that Eddie fully realized he’d never seen Steve drunk.

When Eddie came into sight of the table, Steve immediately jumped up in his seat and reached obnoxiously over the table to wave at him. It was adorably reminiscent of a 5 year old and a little puppy.

Eddie failed to keep the soft grin off his face. Not that he was really trying.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie greeted softly when sitting back down next to him.

“Hi, Ed!” Steve exclaimed loudly and excitedly, basically bouncing in place. Eddie really should’ve stayed outside.

“Steve’s a little drunk, don’t hold anything he may say or do against him.” Jonathan joked from across from them. Or, it seemed like a joke. His expression was playful but his tone was more serious than it let on.

“Oh? A little drunk? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so excited.” Eddie snickered.

“Hey!” Steve smacked at Eddie’s shoulder and immediately grabbed his arm afterwards, wrapping himself around it and holding on. Eddie felt himself grow hot under his shirt collar. “I’m always excited to see you, doofus.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. This was news to him. He shot a look to Jonathan who waved him off, turning to talk with Robin instead.

Eddie put his free hand over one of Steve’s. “Oh yeah, darlin? That’s news to me.”

Eddie watched in delight while a steady blush crept down Steve’s neck. He grinned dopily at Eddie, all teeth and gums and scrunched up nose. It was ridiculously endearing.

“Huuuuuussshhhh.” Steve pointed at him, his arm like a wobbly noodle and uncoordinated; he nearly smacked Eddie in the face. “‘Course ‘m always excited to see you. You’re you!”

Eddie stuck his tongue behind his bottom lip to avoid grinning like an idiot. Steve’s eyes followed.

“Alright, dork. I think it’s time to take you home.”

Steve squawked at being called a dork. Insisting Eddie was the biggest dork he’d ever met.

“You’re a Dork with a capital D!” Steve insisted while they weaved through the crowd. Eddie was taking Steve home early with Robin catching a ride with Jonathan.

Eddie snorted, holding back a comment on ‘capital D’ anything. He had a firm grip on Steve’s wrist, as his drunken friend got distracted at every little thing. After he ran off to talk to some stranger “because they had shiny earrings! I needed to know where they were from, Edd!” Eddie wasn’t taking any chances.

He had to physically buckle Steve up for him in the beemer, leaning over him and clicking it into place. Eddie chose to ignore the raging blush on Steve’s face in favor of a simple smirk.

Steve wouldn’t stop talking the entire ride and Eddie loved it.

“I really wanted to play volleyball as a kid but my dad refused because he thought it was too girly— and than I wanted to play hockey! And I would’ve if my mom wasn’t so adamant about it being too ‘aggressive’ and my dad just going along with it because he couldn’t care less either way— oh!! And then I played soccer for a little bit! Did you know Robin plays soccer? I think she used to be on the track team, too—“

Eddie couldn’t stop grinning. (He made a silent promise to ask Argyle about volleyball so he could play with Steve at some point.)

When he took the turn to Loch Nora Steve went quiet. A brief glance told Eddie he was staring out the window. He let him have another moment before speaking.

“You alright, Stevie?”

Steve’s response was delayed, his voice quieter than it has been all night. “Yeah, ‘m good.”

“You sure? You went awfully quiet over there, darling.” Eddie couldn’t stop the faintly concerned glance he shot to the side.

“Yeah.”

Eddie pulled over to the side of a fancy road, one side houses with huge yards and the other the trees spanning out into the woods. Steve jolted at the stop, glancing at Eddie’s faint reflection in the window.

Eddie twisted in his seat, reaching over to tap on Steve’s thigh to get his attention. When Steve looked over at Eddie he looked like a kicked puppy.

“Why’d ya stop?”

“Cause somethin’s wrong and you’re not explaining.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Sorry.”

Eddie smiled softly. “You don’t have to apologize, Stevie. I just need to know what’s wrong so I’m not sending you home while you’re in a bad place.”

Steve’s shoulders hiked up slightly. “Doesn’ matter.”

Eddie huffed, stopping his tapping on Steve’s thigh in favor of grabbing it gently. “Of course it does, sweetheart. If it’s affectin’ you this much it’s gotta matter a lot.”

Steve shrugged, trying to look away. Eddie let him, but kept his hand on his thigh and squeezed twice. Just to let him know he was there.

They were both silent for a moment. The two. Then—

“Don’t wanna.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Don’t wanna what?”

Steve response was slow, quiet. “Go home. Too quiet.”

Eddie’s breath left him in a quiet rush. Even if Steve was slowly making the Harrington estate more ‘him’, the memories it held would most likely prevent it from ever being ‘home’.

“You wanna go back to the trailer with me?” Eddie found himself asking.

Steve’s nod was hesitant, shaky like he wasn’t sure what he was doing. Eddie decided he was going to keep Steve at the trailer for as long as he can get away with this weekend.

“Alright, sweetheart. Let’s get goin then, yeah?” He patted Steve’s thigh twice and turned back to resume driving.

Steve remained quiet the rest of the drive, but he hummed along to the radio so Eddie deemed him a little better.

He parked on the side of the road, leaving the space next to the van open for Wayne’s truck when he got home in the morning.

Eddie had to help Steve up the porch stairs, letting him lean on his shoulder while fumbling with his keys. Steve was still humming to the last song that played on the radio.

Eddie gave Steve a pair of sweatpants and a shirt and silently praised himself for the flush settling down Steve’s neck. But then there was a flush settling down Eddie’s neck because Steve looked really good in his clothes.

They shared the bed like they usually did when they spent the night at each others places. Eddie took the spot by the wall and Steve climbed in to face the door. Eddie wrapped himself around Steve’s back with a hand on his waist and another under his head.

Did this take over a month? Nope. (Ssshhhhhhh)

I’m my defense: my biggest hyper fixation atm is ATLA 🤷

Am I happy with this? No, not really.

Am I posting it anyway? Sure am🧍.

Have fun with it ✌️

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #these six as a friendgroup #steddie thoughts #steddie #drunk stevie #steve harrington gets flustered easily #but only when he’s drunk

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notimetoparty · 3 days

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Okay, here’s MY question: would Present try to kill their own siblings if they saw them? Would the resemblance throw them off too much?

For A Weapon, killing people is easy.

It's what it was made for, it's what it was born for. It was told its only reason it continued to breathe was this one task...to exterminate the plague. If it did not kill, there would be no reason for it to live.

When the government found where those last remnants of the plague were, in a world far beyond the reaches of most, it knew its mission was almost complete. That this would be the final, small step to realizing that purpose it was given. It went there without a second thought, expecting to come back to its cell later with discolored blood on its paws and pincers.

It was surprised at how little survival skills the first one it found had. This beast, despite the scar on its eye, was wandering next to the border of the woods in broad daylight. What was it even doing? It watched, to its surprise, as the rusty black thing pulled out a guitar and sat on a log. It began to play a tune, messing up the melody and stomping on the ground each time with a hiss.

Unusual. Idiotic, too. The plagued normally knew to hide away, to live in the darkest corners of every world. And yet this case chose to sing and complain. Whatever. That made it easier to strike.

Eyes peering through the underbrush, it stalked and stepped closer. It pondered the most efficient way to snuff out its life. Avoid the head, to get away from the mandibles and pincers. Go for the neck. Always the neck. Stab and blast if needed, but don't waste valuable ammunition. Make sure that-

Snap.

So lost in thought, it forgot to avoid any of the sticks on the grassy floor. The plagued turned around curiously, now face to face with a yellow behemoth.

And they tilted their head, chuckling.

"Woah. Where the hell did you come from!?” She chirped. Another laugh erupted from them, a small chitter to their voice. “Are you a weirdo, hanging out in the forest? A little forest loser?”

…It blinked. It definitely should kill this thing here and now, right? It would be incredibly easy. But something made it pause. It instead gave a blunt, monotone reply.

“What.”

Without missing a beat, she then pointed at the augmentations attached to its arms and back. “What are those things on you? Some cool cyber stuff? Nerd!”

He continued to chuckle and joke, much to its annoyance as it growled. Eventually she calmed, wiping a tear from her eye as she gave a passing “sorry”.

“Whatever, it’s cool. My brother is also a nerd. He also likes running around the woods like a little freak! You two would get along great.”

Was this bug trying to make conversation? What an idiot. It glared at her, unmoving and unamused as it let out a huff.

“You should be more fearful of what lies in the forest,” It warned, “because I’m not here to make small talk.”

In response, she only shrugged.

“Whatev. I’m gonna go practice guitar somewhere else. Have fun pretending to be a sci-fi protag or something.”

Just like that, the guy turned away with her guitar in hand, humming a tune and giggling still under her breath. “Man, the fam is gonna love this story!” It heard her mumble as she escaped from its sight.

It should’ve pounced while the thing’s back was turned. It knew that. And yet…it let the creature go off without issue, as though its body was frozen in place. Were the circumstances that bizarre, so as to make a weapon not fire its shot? Nothing was special about that person, besides the unusually fluffy body compared to other plagued specimens.

Was it the similarities to itself that had it hesitant? The way their eyes bore the same red, and how her tail looked almost too similar to the one it bore? It was pointless to contemplate. It was pointless to compare yourself to the things you were meant to kill. Now, it was too late to even try to track where she had gone. She was already far out of sight, leaving it on its lonesome and without a new lead.

In a moment of weakness, the weapon snarled and kicked at the ground.

Killing was meant to be easy. Why was this suddenly so difficult? -Zinc

#answers #nttp official

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autumnteawithfriends · 2 days

Text

I despise CherriSnake and here’s why

Before we begin, something I want to clarify is that I don’t care if you ship or don’t ship CherriSnake. You do you, I’m not here to stop you and neither is this post. I just personally wanted to make a post on why I absolutely hate this ship.

Also, props to @cagneyblooms for helping me come up with some of the points.

REASON#1 - They don’t really work as partners for me

This is more of a personal reason to me, but CherriSnake is one of those ships to me where it feels like they absolutely can’t work out as a couple. Since the pilot is somewhat treated as canon in the show, they make no sense considering the fact that Pentious and Cherri absolutely despised eachother in the pilot. Both of them were locked in a turf war against one another and that hatred was mutual. Yet the show does a complete 180 from that and makes Pentious have this crush on Cherri out of nowhere, likely because Vivziepop wanted a straight HH ship and instead of deciding to just make a different character to pair Pentious/Cherri with or just make a entirely new ship. She just looked at the fandom, saw that CherriSnake was somewhat popular, and decided to make it canon last minute. CherriSnake during 2019-2023 just felt like a joke ship to me or something shippers who ship every character together would make. I mean, CherriSnake practically falls into a TON of popular tropes (Enemies/Rivals to Lovers, Angel x Demon, Girlboss x Goofball, probably way more) I’m not dissing this tropes, I even do these tropes myself with OC x Canon pairings I make. It’s just that CherriSnake felt rushed and last minute.

REASON#2 - They lack chemistry and actual interaction

To be fair, I partially put the blame on both Amazon Prime and Vivziepop for this. Amazon Prime because they only gave HH 8 episodes to really show its story, but I also blame Vivziepop for this. Because not only did she waste whatever time she had with those 8 episodes by showing us useless filler with the Vees and The Overlords instead of actually delving into the main sinners and why they’re in Hell. But she also crammed WAY too much content into 8 episodes instead of giving HH proper pacing.

But onto CherriSnake chemistry, Cherri and Pentious’s regular interactions pretty much prove to me that Vivziepop understands nothing about how actual relationships work and just make their dynamic one sided on Pentious’s part. Let’s be honest, Cherri does not reciprocate Pentious in the slightest considering the stuff she does to him. The shitty two dicks joke aside, not only was the kiss between her and Pentious forced because it was only a “heat of the moment” deal, but she also did this.

(Source: TV Tropes under Sir Pentious’s page)

I get that Cherri isn’t exactly a nicest sinner demon in Hazbin, but this combined with the two dicks joke and the kiss she and Pentious share makes her seem incredibly shallow (which she is considering how rushed this ship is in general) If Hazbin Hotel was like Bojack Horseman like some people claim it is, either these would happen.

A. Cherri realizes she was shallow for only wanting Pentious for his two dicks and never really considered how he felt, either leading Cherri and Pentious staying friends or Cherri breaking it off with him.

B. Pentious calls out Cherri for being shallow, thus giving both him and Cherri some development.

C. Cherri realizes that she only liked the kiss because it was less of them being in love and more of a heat of the moment adrenaline rush.

Or literally anything else. Cherri and Pentious never have a genuine interaction that either doesn’t make Cherri seem incredibly shallow or isn’t comedic.

As for the final reason, it may be a bit of a stretch, but I still think it counts.

REASON#3 - It’s borderline pedophillia

Again, props to @cagneyblooms for making me realize this point. Also, because pedophillia is very much a serious topic + I don’t want to throw the term around. I’ll be providing more evidence than the other two.

I’m not kidding, CherriSnake (atleast to me) becomes borderline pedophillic once you think about the lore Vivziepop spoon feeds us through her livestreams instead of diving deep into it. According to Vivziepop, Sir Pentious was in his mid 40s (best speculated to be 45) when he died while Cherri died in her early 20s, already raising a few eyebrows.

Yeah, this is already gross enough, but something that makes the age gap worse is the difference timeframe in which these two died in. Sir Pentious was confirmed to have died in 1888 London and Cherri Bomb died somewhere in the 80s. So not only was Pentious A GROWN ASS MAN WHO ALREADY HAD LIVED AND DIED BEFORE CHERRI WAS BORN, CHERRI WAS LIKELY BARELY A ADULT SINCE SHE WAS EITHER IN HER EARLY 20s AT BEST OR BARELY IN HER 20s AT WORST! This is also mentioning that Sir Pentious is also technically older than Cherri in Hell because depending on what exact year Cherri died in, Sir Pentious had either already spent nearly 100 years in Hell or he actually spent 100 years exactly in Hell when Cherri died. The only thing that really softens blow is that Pentious got a crush on her when they were both in Hell, meaning Cherri was technically still in her 20s in a way.

To conclude this, I hate CherriSnake. It’s one of the few Canon ships I actually despise since I either don’t care for Canon ships or I actually ship Canon couples as well. Even if Vivziepop wasn’t a terrible person, she’s still a really fucking awful writer who can’t stick to anything at all and is more concerned about her shitty Stoltliz soap opera rather than writing a good story. Writers like Vivziepop are the reason why research makes a good story.

#anti hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #anti vivziepop #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critical #sir pentious hazbin hotel #cherri bomb #anti cherrisnake

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ghostlyeris · 3 days

Text

Extra Credit

read on ao3

Adaine is exhausted.

Even after a week, the Last Stand echoes in her bones. Every step she takes down the hall reverberates up her legs. She could be trancing instead of this. She could be, but she isn’t. This is more important than a few extra hours of trance.

Adaine is six years old and she’s surrounded by strangers in a strange land. They had to move in the middle of the year, her parents prattling on about some promotion her father had gotten. “Foreign diplomat” or whatever her mother had said. Not to her of course, but to Aelwyn when she had whined about leaving all her fancy friends behind. Adaine didn’t have anyone to leave. Everyone she knew was moving to the nation of Solace with her.

The hallways are empty. Everyone had either already run off to class or were smart enough to find somewhere to skip class that wasn’t standing in the hall. It’s not as if she would get in trouble though. She technically didn’t even need to step back in here until senior year. Not after acing the Last Stand.

Adaine is nine years old and she doesn’t understand what her classmates talk about. It’s not that she can’t comprehend their sentences. All the words have meanings and those meanings make sense. But she doesn’t understand. They talk about birthday parties and play dates and seem confused when Adaine says the only toys she has back home are the wooden automatons for magic practice. She knows what she says to them is wrong, but she doesn’t know what to say to make it right. It’s no surprise that she doesn’t make any friends that year.

Lockers line the wall. If she focuses hard enough, she could probably pick out the one that used to be Penelope's. It has fresher paint than the rest. After prom, people had vandalized it too much to scrub off. She’s honestly a little sad she wasn’t one of them.

Adaine is thirteen years old and she’s staring down a boy. He has a letter clenched in his hand with her name on it. It's nothing like the elf courtship she's read about in Aelwyn's romance novels, but she supposes humans have their own gestures of affection. Hudol is full of all sorts of people. Including those who like her. Apparently. She gingerly takes the letter from his grip and turns around to leave without a word.

Rounding the hall, the door to the wizard classroom comes into view. It’s a familiar room, one she’s spent countless hours in listening to droning lectures about the prescriptive nature of abjuration grammar. Tiberia isn’t a terrible teacher but she can certainly be a dull one.

Adaine is fourteen years old and she’s staring down a love letter. It’s been two months since she received it, long enough for her birthday to pass. She wants to feel something. Desire or disgust, either would be acceptable at this point. It’s what she’s supposed to do after all. Feel something. But no matter how hard she tries, she simply can’t muster anything up. It’s just a letter. Just a boy. Just…something she doesn’t get.

She’s almost there. It’s not too late for her to back out of this though. She could just turn around and head home. Or head down the hall to Jawbone and talk her feelings out. She could, but she won’t. She’s always had trouble communicating her feelings. It’s about time she made herself clear.

Adaine is sixteen years old and she finally gets it. Between Hudol and now, she had been confessed to time and time again. They weren’t even all jokes either. At least those she could understand. Everyone likes a good punchline, and she made a great one. But the earnest ones always threw her for a loop. What feelings could she possibly induce in a boy she had only talked to once?

She gets it now.

The handle is cold beneath her hand. She can hear the bustle of class behind the door, incantations and conjurations flaring to life beneath the deft touch of a wizard. She won’t miss going to class but it does make her smile. Just a bit. One deep breath and she turns the handle, plunging the room into silence.

Adaine is sixteen years old and she’s hiding in a fridge full of milk. If she had been sober, she would have been smart enough to find somewhere more isolated. But she isn’t sober. She’s drunk and panicking after running away from the hottest guy she’s ever seen. It almost feels like a panic attack, the way her chest tightens and her words stutter out. But it’s not. It’s warmer than that, flushing her face a fervent pink even after she’s stopped talking to him. No wonder people act so foolish while in love.

She feels so dumb.

“Miss Abernant. After that glorious Last Stand, I hadn’t anticipated seeing you again until your senior year.”

Everyone’s eyes are on her. She can feel them, crawling across her skin as they gaze on in eager interest. Even after saving the world thrice over, she’s never gotten used to the attention. But it’s alright. She’s not looking at any of them.

“Yes, well, I thought I’d deliver one last prophecy before I go. A little bit of extra credit to finish out the year.”

Adaine is sixteen years old and she thinks her heart has broken right in two. It shouldn’t have. This should have been a joyous moment. Not only had they completed the Last Stand, they had survived it. Done what no other party had done in the history of Aguefort. But she can’t bring herself to be happy. Not with Buddy Dawn dead and the only person that had ever made her heart flutter trying to fuck her over so badly.

She feels so dumb.

“Incredible. And what would that prophecy be, Miss Abernant?”

Tiberia looks eager, the way she does before every prophecy. It’s a subtle thing, only seen in the sheen of her eyes as she stares on. It normally unnerves her but she doesn’t mind all that much this time. She wants to be heard.

“I’m going to kill a dragon.”

Adaine is sixteen years old and she’s furious. After an hour and a half on the train, her emotions had finally settled down into something she could understand. And what she understood is that she wants him dead. It isn’t even truly about the betrayal. It’s hard to feel betrayed by someone you don’t even know. It’s about the fact that for once she felt normal. For once, she was just like everyone else, with a group of friends and a stupid boy she could pine after. And he ruined that for her.

So she’s going to ruin him.

Like a gunshot, the classroom bursts into a flurry of activity once more. None of it matters to her. She completed what she came here to do. Turning around, she heads back out into the hall without bothering to look at him. She’s the Elven Oracle after all. She’s seen through all of time, every possible iteration of this experience before she had even decided to go through with it.

She knows he blanched with fear.

And she knows that when Oisín Hakinvar sees her leave the room, he’ll pull out his phone to check his nemesis alert, set up at the same fancy bank Fabian goes to. And she knows that he’ll stare down at that screen and see Adaine Abernant, the Elven Oracle on that list clear as day.

Adaine is exhausted. But more importantly, Adaine is enraged. And she knows, just as she knows everything else, that she’s going to make Oisín Hakinvar’s life absolute hell.

#rushed to finish this before the episode tomorrow where i will probably have to eat my words #but for now. revenge #adaine abernant #oisín hakinvar #oisaine #fantasy high #fhjy spoilers #fhjy #my writing

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talesofsymphoniac · 3 days

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It's interesting to me that Akio/Dios are portrayed so differently in the movie vs the anime. Broadly speaking, in the anime Akio is a menacing figure (albeit charming at times) and Dios seems more benevolent.

Whereas in the movie Akio is kind of a joke?? His flipping over the car hood is silly and dainty and frilly instead of this display of sexual power, he's full on panicking because he doesn't have as much control over Anthy as he thought, he's lost his keys, he falls out of his own window.

And in the movie, it's Dios who is scary, and appears at the end of the car chase to intimidate Anthy into going back. Dios is the final boss.

And since I interpret the movie as from Anthy's POV/in her headspace, I see that as a reflection of how she views Akio in the present vs Dios in the past.

Akio, as of the end of the anime, is not someone who Anthy respects anymore. He's foolish, because he didn't see the meaning in Utena's actions, and she sees that all his posturing is just that: posturing.

Dios, though? Dios is the one she loved, and cared about, and did everything she ever did for. Dios was Anthy's prince, and to leave the school isn't just to leave Akio, it's also to leave behind this idealized memory of what he was-- and, by extension, what Anthy was with him.

It's important to note that Anthy never really wanted to be saved from Akio. She wanted "a prince she could believe in," and that was Dios until he "became" Akio (however you choose to interpret that). Later, she saw Dios in Utena-- a new prince she could believe in, even if she couldn't bring herself to do so until the last moment.

But I think the point which the anime alludes to and which the movie hammers home is that Dios is NOT Anthy's savior, he's a piece of her prison. She needs to overcome and outgrow him as much as she needed to overcome Akio.

#and in conclusion thats why utena turned into a car jesus christ this fucking movie #but seriously anthy run him the fuck over #rgu #revolutionary girl utena #rgu adolescence #mine #meta

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fiveredlights · 1 day

Note

I saw you mentioned you liked kid fic and had bookmarks— do you have any reccs for maxiel kid fics?❤️❤️

do i ever!!!! one thing about me is that i will eat kid fics up, like i think i’ve read about all the tagged kid fics in the maxiel tag. i love seeing what names authors choose for their children and it just makes me happy. here's a couple and if you want more lmk!

listen to the slow parts by @nobrakesdown [T-7.2k]

Neither Max or Daniel are the one to find the baby. That honor belongs to Christian, and Christian alone.

a lil you, a lil me, a perfect being by 3_33 (@maxcuntstappen) [G-4.8k]

The three of them stand outside, looking at the entrance, August in the middle, clutching tightly onto Max and Daniel’s hands.

“Okay, I need you both to repeat after me.”

“Daniel, we already did this in the car. Can we please just go in?” Max asks, desperately, which only confirms to Daniel the need to remind all of them of the ground rules.

“Baby, please. We need to remember, okay? We are here to meet some new friends and play with them. It is okay if we don’t meet anybody we like. We can always come again. There is no need for us to be upset. Yeah?”

“Yes, Daddy,” August says and drops his hand to give Daniel a mock salute and Daniel really didn’t know he could love someone so much.

“Max,” Daniel implores, knowing that it is as important that his husband acknowledges the plan as much as their kid.

“Yes, yes, Daniel, okay,” Max rolls his eyes but nods in agreement.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Daniel says. The three of them walk in through the doors.

Or: Daniel and Max visit an animal shelter for their son, August's fourth birthday. Daniel is apprehensive. Max and August are vibrating out of their skin.

That's Where I Am by @flawlessassholes [E-47.8k-6/8]

“Her name is Emily,” Daniel says softly. Max’s eyes snap down to the baby, still sleeping on Daniel’s chest. It’s—she’s snoring a little. In that snuffly way that babies snore. “Short for Emilian.” His eyes snap back to Daniel’s face, so serious, and Max knows it’s a joke, of course, but he still opens his mouth to say— Then Daniel’s face breaks into that wide grin, the real one, the one Max hasn’t seen since. Well. In a while. It feels at once so familiar, and also like seeing something rise from the dead.

There’s a month between Melbourne and Baku. A month to convince Daniel to return to racing. A month to learn and relearn how to love. A month for everything to feel right amidst a season that has felt nothing but wrong. A month to create a family, and a month to maybe lose it all.

keep me in the open by Aurelia (Lily_Rizzy) (@lilyrizzy) [E-11.7k]

"Chrissy Baker sounds like a cunt,” Daniel says, then cringes at the pointed look his mum shoots him. “What? It’s not like they’re old enough to repeat that yet.”

Grace laughs, the sound audible now over Livia’s cries, which are quickly fading into miserable whimpers. Of course, she behaves for grandma, and not the dad who dotes on her endlessly, feeds her, cuddles her, and wipes her smelly ass.

“Three words, Daniel,” she says, eyebrows raised. “Cash, money, bitches.”

or, Daniel navigates bed times, bath times and jealousy, while Max races his last season in Formula One

summer sun after the rain by gentleau [T-11.7k]

“Papà? Is Max your friend?” “He used to be.”

then you came by beforemidnight [G-4.5k]

Daniel looks at Max swiftly but pointedly. Smiling, he looks back at the camera. “Marrying him was the easiest decision of my life.”

(don't let) the days go by citydreaming (@thewindowatkirkland) [M-11.3k]

“Hey” Daniel says “thanks for coming over.”

“Is now a good time? If you are busy I can come back later.”

“Now is fine, she’s already asleep so we should be able to talk without being interrupted.”

“Talk about how you have a daughter.”

Daniel bites his lip nervously “yeah, about that.”

OR: single dad daniel returns to the grid for one final year with red bull, max doesn’t plan on falling in love with him and his daughter, but somehow it happens anyway.

#i have also gone through all 187 pages of the maxiel tag alphabetically by author but we don’t need to talk about that #me my ao3 bookmarks and google sheets against the world #f1 fic rec #maxiel

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fruitybashir · 2 days

Note

Can't remember if you've talked about this a lot before so, hi, anything about Kris and Jan's relationship? Very curious, I love them!!

oh YES actually ive been dying to talk about them more lol since i couldnt fit any more backstory for them into holidate so let me just *cracks knuckles* tell you their whole deal actually

SO. basically the idea for how they met, got together, became best friends etc was this:

- they met as teens, probably were in the same class

- they discovered they had a lot of similar interests, same humour, very quickly got along really well and became really close friends

- they also both at that point had started to figure out their sexuality, but weren't open about it at all bc like. homophobia in school is no joke.

- at first that also meant they werent out to each other bc oh god what if i tell him and he thinks im disgusting and then he doesnt want to be my friend anymore and also outs me to the whole school and everyone will know

- im not sure exactly what happened but one of them wouldve accidentally found out about the other, the other wouldve panicked, but then like oh shit damn okay we're both queer?? nice!!

- if youve been a queer teen in an almost exclusively cishet environment and suddenly there was another queer teen, you probably know the experience of getting a crush on them partly literally just bc theyre also queer. so that happened.

- basically they were each others first queer relationship and did their first experimenting with each other etc

- they did however realised that hey actually? maybe romance isnt for them. maybe they just have a really deep friendship and they do love each other, just not like that - and that realisation is definitely 100% mutual from the start btw, no heartbreak for either of them, just relief

- so basically they just break off the romantic relationship and stay best friends etc etc

since then, jan has also been in kris' family and stuff like miha and chantal both love jan and treat him like a son. kris definitely first introduced him as a friend, and then came out to his parents with jan as his boyfriend and they werent thrilled but also not hateful. but they were relieved (at first) when they just went back to friends

idk if jan and kris still occasionally experimented or slept together or idk? i guess theyd definitely feel comfortable and secure enough with each other but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

overall (to me) theyre definitely a little more than just best friends but on a very platonic basis. they have a lot of love for each other, theyd kill and die and pretty much do anything for each other, its a very very deep and powerful friendship

oh also, its been mentioned in the fic that they regularly sleep over and also they sleep in the same bed and cuddle and all that, like thats all part of the previous statement. platonic intimacy and all that.

ummmmmm this was kinda just a very long ramble and idk how much of that last bit made sense buy heres some jankris extra lore for you <3

#basically best friends who are platonically in love #if they didnt both still seek out romantic relationships with others they would get married for tax benefits and grow old together #inbox #anonymous #lore

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jeannereames · 2 days

Text

And Alexander Wept for Hephaistion....

If you don’t mind, I wanted to ask, you said something along the lines of: by the time Alexander was coming closer to his death, he had recovered from the grief of Hephaistion’s death (if I’m remembering this correctly; I’m so sorry I have a fuzzy memory) how long do you think he mourned Hephaistion?

------------------

This was an ask via message, so putting it here to reply publicly, as it may be of interest to others.

First, however, I want to mention a pair of articles I wrote many years ago now, but which are still valid:

“The Mourning of Alexander the Great,” Syllecta Classica 12 (2001), 98-145.

“Some New Thoughts on the Death of Alexander the Great,” with Eugene N. Borza (lead author), The Ancient World 31.1 (2000), 1-9. (I wrote the last 1/3 of it.)

The first, in particular, is an in-depth analysis of Alexander’s behavior after Hephaistion died. I’m still rather proud of it, as it brings together two quite diverse fields: bereavement + Alexander studies. If I had a critique for it now, it’s that I didn’t analyze the stories inherent in the primary sources, but that also wasn’t my intention in writing it. I specifically say that I do not plan to pick apart which reports of Alexander’s behavior are likely authentic and which aren’t. My goal was to evaluate all of them in terms of possible evidence of pathological bereavement, according to the (then) DSM III-R (et al.).

TL;DR version of the article: Alexander’s mourning was NORMAL and followed recognized patterns, if one allows for the loss of someone extremely close, a spouse/similar.

Yes, there were complicating factors. BUT he did not go crazy with grief.

Unfortunately, this article is far less known than the “An Atypical Affair” article on Alexander and Hephaistion’s relationship. That’s too bad, as the “His grieving was extreme!” persists among even some of my colleagues, never mind those outside the field of Macedoniasts. (It’s also admittedly possible that they were simply unconvinced by my arguments, but in that case, one usually cites and says so.)

If I could put a giant blinking neon light on one of my earlier articles to get it more attention, that would be the one I’d point to.

The second article—or my 1/3rd of it anyway—deals with the possible effects of deep mourning on the immune system of adult males of Alexander’s age group. Yes, according to some limited research, it does have an impact that increases susceptibility to infectious disease. Add his poor overall physical health after all those battles (and Macedonian-style symposial drinking), and he was just too spent to fight off the typhoid or malaria or whatever fever disease got him.

Ergo, he died roughly 8 months after Hephaistion. We don’t have a date for the latter’s death, but sometime in October or November of 324 BCE is the window. Alexander died June 10th, 323 … or possibly a day or so later if he were in a paralysis too deep for his breathing to be ascertained. (As per Gene’s part of the article.)

The dating is important, as it affects where he (probably) was in his mourning process.

Mourning follows a somewhat predictable pattern, and one of the biggest mistakes made by those unfamiliar with human mourning is to underestimate (often by a lot) just how long mourning takes … even perfectly normal, healthy mourning.

For a major loss, main mourning takes up to a year. No joke. That’s why bereavement counselors try to keep the bereaved from making any permanent decisions within that year. They’re still very much being buffeted by the winds of grief, even if they want to pretend they aren’t. But even after the year anniversary—and marking it with some sort of formal ceremony helps!*—mourning continues off-and-on (sometimes really intense for a few hours or even a few days) for up to 5 years. Again, no joke. Some bereavement studies experts don’t really consider a person truly recovered (note I never say “over it”) for as long as 10 years.

Additionally, ANY deep loss triggers mourning; it doesn’t have to be death. A divorce will result in mourning, even if the people in the marriage wanted to divorce. It’s still a “death” of sorts. Moving some distance away, graduation, and retirement can all set off mourning. This surprises people, that mourning can attach even to “happy” circumstances. Anything that includes an ending will set off mourning, albeit it may not be that intense.

But THE #1 and #2 most devastating losses are the loss of a child and the loss of a spouse/spouse-like figure. Period.

So, a slight correction to the question, I didn’t say he’d recovered from his mourning, but that he was beginning to emerge from the deepest parts of mourning.

What do I mean by that? There are (roughly) 3(-4) major phases of mourning. The speed at which we pass through these varies, dependent on the type of death and our closeness to the deceased. (The first article goes into that in more depth.)

Shock phase, which is typically anywhere from a few days to about 2 weeks.

Deep mourning phase, where the bereaved must come to terms with the loss. The bereaved cycles through a series of stages (not the best term) and, more importantly, struggles with certain TASKS of mourning (as per Worden). Again, the length of this phase can vary, but for serious losses, it can take up to 8-9 months, with the worst of it usually hitting 3-6 months. There is an intense focus on the deceased and the bereaved person may want little to do with new people and vacillate between wanting to talk a lot about the deceased or wanting to give away all their stuff because it’s too painful. Anger, bargaining, depression, self-blame … all are typical of this phase. It’s INTENSE. It really does take months, and people routinely underestimate it.

Re-emergent phase, where the bereaved begins to take an interest again in the external world, may make new friends and new plans that don’t involve the deceased. The deceased is far, far from forgotten, but the bereaved is learning to live without the dead person.

Continued bereavement would be a fourth phase past the one-year anniversary, where the bereaved will still experience grief, sometimes very intense when triggered by a particular memory, a birthday, or anniversaries. But the overall “worst” part of mourning is past.

Finally, especially in the deepest part of mourning, the depression felt by the bereaved is on par with clinical depression, but (except for rare cases) the bereaved absolutely should not take or be prescribed antidepressants as these interrupt the mourning process.

Yes, it hurts like hell but one can only go through, not over, around, or under. Through.

In some cases, however, bereavement becomes “complicated,” resulting in what’s referred to as pathological bereavement, by which I mean only not normal (I wouldn’t even say abnormal). Sudden death (as with Hephaistion) IS one factor that can complicate mourning, but it doesn’t necessarily lead to full-blown pathological grief. In the article, I evaluate all Alexander’s listed behaviors and explain why my final conclusion is that his bereavement was sharp, but not pathological.

Alexander’s behavior in the last few months showed aspects of the third phase. He was planning (or probably returning to planning) his next campaign and thinking about improvements to the city of Babylon apparently with the intention of making it his eastern capital. Yes, he was also planning Hephaistion’s funeral, but the other two things were new and show re-engagement.

So Alexander’s mourning had not ended before he died himself, only shifted. Even if he’d lived another 5 years, he’d still have experienced bereavement off and on.

Remember, grieving takes TIME. More time than you expect.

If you know someone going through grief, especially for a family member, beloved, or very close friend … give them space. Let them cry. Encourage them to talk about the lost person if they want to, but don’t force it if they don’t want to. Don’t argue with their theology/beliefs about death or their gallows humor, but also don’t shove your theology/beliefs about death, or your gallows humor, onto them. Read the room.

MOST OF ALL, JUST BE PRESENT. It matters less what you say than that you’re there. They may not even remember what you say later; they will remember you showed up.

—————-

* In fact, world cultures that have traditional, one-year anniversary ceremonies routinely show better outcomes for mourning individuals.

#asks #Alexander the Great #Hephaistion #Hephaestion #death of Hephaistion #death of Hephaestion #Mourning of Alexander the Great #bereavement #mourning #tasks of mourning #stages of grief #Alexander the Great's grief #alexander x hephaestion #alexander x hephaistion

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sphireath-wisp · 6 hours

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#Picture Perfect

Sypnosis: Where do they keep pictures/polaroids of you (and them)?

Warnings: Not proofread, reader admits that there were times they felt insecure at Levi's, morally grey reader(?), Mammon's section kind of derails from main topic, posessive/jealous Levi, possible mischaracterization because I haven't played in a long time

Featuring: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor x GN! reader

LUCIFER... who keeps pictures of you safe in his wallet. Honestly... it's not the most flattering picture of you, but he likes it a fair bit. It reminds him of the times when he used to think of you as just "the human exchange student" and not "(Name), our family."

The picture - taken by the RAD newspaper club - shows you being introduced to the whole school as the new exchange student. You look completely unamused. If his memory serves him correctly, you had no sleep last night since Mammon was unaware of the human cardiac cycle and how you needed sleep everyday. Your hands were clasped in front of you and you were sort of glaring at him from where you were standing.

He was confidently giving his speech, face neutral and completely unaware of the eyes burning holes into his back. In fact, it only garnered more attention because you had the guts to glare at the third most powerful demon in all of Devildom in such a way. It probably slipped your mind then that he had the power to snap your neck in half.

He kept it in his wallet as a reminder to warn you about controlling yourself. It'd be especially bad for his image if the human he was taking care of had the nerve to glare at Diavolo like that. Though, he never really found the time. It slipped his mind all the time simply because you never glared at any of his brothers in that way as more and more time passed.

You were unreasonably kind, he realised.

Occasionally, Mammon will attempt to steal his wallet and gets the shock of his life when he sees a photo of you by his debit card. You look absolutely horrible and... man! Mammon won't be letting Lucifer off the hook anytime soon - or rather, it's the other way around now that Lucifer has Mammon strung upside down by Cerberus as a personal piñata.

MAMMON... the mastermind, and you, his partner-in-crime. News spreads like wildfire in devildom. With the amount of havoc that he imprints with his every step, it's natural that cameramen have a tendency to tail him when things get dry or mundane.

Poor you. You're always caught his trouble and plastered as his accomplice to the point where you've gained quite the notorious name around Devildom.

In the past when Mammon went missing, Lucifer found that there was a much more effective way to find the Avatar of Greed without lifting a finger. Rather than putting up missing posters, bounties were placed on Mammon's head - it ranged from $100,000 grimm to millions depending on Lucifer's mood. If someone did ever find the demon, they would receive the allocated amount of course. However, Mammon rivals no one at speed, the only person who would have him on a leash would be Lucifer.

Since you're always stringed along with Mammon during his schemes, Asmodeus jokingly decided to submit a stunning photo of you to RAD's newspaper club with a bounty of infinity. It went completely viral! You can't imagine how shocked everyone was to see a human's bounty in Devildom, wanted (alive) in all of the three realms and the top "criminal" in hell.

As an inside joke between the brothers, anyone who brings you back to the HOL requires at least 20,000 grimm or some form of payment if another brother wants to hang out with you (Beel gets paid the most, Levi is the top-payer). You were certainly surprised when Satan snatched you away when Mammon's back was turned to you. He returned you back to HOL, amused when Asmo actually gave Satan some spare Grimm. Asmo would insist on painting your nails, plopping you down on his bed as Satan decides that he also needed some personal time with you as an extra reward for bringing you back.

Now, Mammon has your bounty in his room as a reminder that he has the most precious treasure in the three realms with him, the person whose worth exceeds any countable number, you.

LEVIATHAN... who can be camera-shy sometimes and totally gets it if you feel the same way. Sometimes, he just doesn't feel that sure of himself and he realises you more in common with him than he expected when you admit that you'll occasionally feel that way too.

Most of the pictures he has of you two are faceless except for the really special occasions and he doesn't actually own physical copies of the pictures like his brothers. He keeps them safe in an folder on his gaming computer and he references them whenever he wants to add a custom character (you) into a new game.

Sure, it may seem a little creepy to have a collection of photos of someone else on your computer, yes I can see how that can play out. However, Levi really doesn't mean harm. Most of his pictures there are actually in-game moments with you.

Finally beat a really difficult boss together? Finished a game in record timing? Screenshotting that! That's gonna be stored in the folder for memory's sake. In reality, he has way more videos than photos of you and him together than anything. You once recorded how long he can yap about his recent hyper fixation and, safe to say, you completely underestimated him.

He has videos of both of your live reactions to a new anime opening song, definitely treats it like a stream and pretends that he's talking to an audience with you.

Levi does stream quite often and you usually get featured as his special guest, but you have to understand that you're working with the Avatar of Envy, sweetheart. He definitely found it a little upsetting when you saw Beel type in chat that he's saving extra food for you in the fridge. You rushed down immediately and when you left, he ended the stream without hesitation.

He's keeping his photos and videos of you to himself from now on. No more streaming with you.

SATAN... prefers miscellaneous photos of you. Caught off-guard, mouth agape and lips curled into a smile he's so used to cherishing that it's become second nature. It highlights your imperfections, yes, but he only grows more fond of it if it's you.

Ironically, it seems more humane to see you in that way - cupcake batter all over your face as you bake, a maple leaf stuck in your hair as autumn arrives in Devildom. It reminds him that, "hey, I'm still your human no matter how perfect I seem." It reassures him that you're still the human that tripped over his books on multiple occasions, never learning your lesson.

You seemed unreachable to him in the way that he feels like he doesn't really deserve you. A romantic, heartfelt kiss or soft whispers of comfort by the shell of his ear would ease the doubt in his heart. However, Satan has learned that looking at these genuine, authentic photos of you is quite effective as well.

Unfiltered, raw, even the borderline unsightly and vulgar version of you, it's nice in its own unique way. That's the way Satan was created - unsightly, bloody, horrid. Of course, it doesn't mean he sees you in a negative light, but seeing your imperfect sides... makes you feel a little less far from him somehow.

Past all of the charming smiles and gentlemanly demeanour is someone who isn't as perfect as he'd like to seem. You'd be able to understand him with all the impurities plaguing him, right? You'd still hug him and let his claws dig into the skin of your back? You'd forgive him?

"So what?" and with two words, he was completely appalled by the simplicity of your answer. In any case, your bluntness could be interpreted as rudeness. He'd be fuming at how lightly you're treating his issues. But, that's just how little you care about flaws.

Satan laughs. A weight lifts off his shoulders and he feels... relieved. Visit him tonight, won't you? He can finally admit to someone how hard it's been to master his wrath all alone.

ASMODEUS... who dedicates his own Devilgram as not only a memory of his best moments but also your best moments. And, oh my, did his fans love you.

When he first featured you, he actually received a little hate (he couldn't give two fucks) due to how controversial of a topic you were at first. Funnily enough, the puny human he calls family today gained him a lot of traction of Devilgram, especially after you became a hot topic once you formed your first pact with Mammon.

From behind the scenes, he'd keep his followers updated on you and the hot water you'd find yourself in, eating his popcorn with a grin and posting. The more he posted about you, the more his fans started appreciating how brave you actually were for a human.

You had a Devilgram of your own, but you rarely posted there since your first few months in Devildom were spent wisely on adjusting to the HOL. Your (unknown) admirers were getting their daily scraps of you through Asmo.

Asmo would realise sooner or later that having both you and him in a picture is the formula for a guaranteed successful post. The Avatar of Lust and a human (demons are literally TEMPTED to have their soul; it's described as a JEWEL) in one photo?! Oh shit, blow the whole roof off because it was a massive hit. (Trendsetter MC and Asmo!??!)

As for Asmo, he loves that his darling is also receiving the love and attention they deserve. In fact, he wholeheartedly supports you with every fibre of his being. He's your biggest fan and you're his.

Plus, his Devilgram is the perfect outlet to shock his brothers. He once posted a picture of himself by your side on his bed. He grins at the camera, showing off his smeared lipstick as your face is dotted with kiss marks.

Disappointingly, it got reported and taken down in an hour or so. (That doesn't mean he doesn't have the photo)

BEELZEBUB... sticks that family picture on the fridge with a magnet. Yeah, he could totally hang it at the entrance by the stairs. Sure, he could frame it up. Yet, it's more homey having it somewhere he always visits and looks at.

Additionally, when Beel's hunger gets the best of him, the picture on the fridge forces him to remember if he has any delegated tasks today. "Oh yeah, Satan wanted some help picking up books from the library today, something about a book sale." "Belphie told me his pillow had a hole in it; I better get him a new one after visiting Hell's Kitchen."

At times when the whole family isn't home, having the picture also serves as a mental checklist! "Oh yeah, MC hasn't eaten dinner yet. Better get them something." "Lucifer wanted another cup of black coffee I think, I'll get him a snack just in case." Making sure everyone is eating well is really important to him because of his own appetite. He hates how empty it feels being hungry, why would he ever put any of his family members through that kind of torture?

Furthermore, he feels a little guilty for always eating so much. Ensuring that everyone has eaten is a role that he's assigned for himself.

It's something the whole family values, but it's especially special for Beel. When he goes on a hunger rampage and tears the kitchen up from wall to wall, if there's any damage done to the photo... you can expect a lot of apologies. (Lucifer has to schedule another time for a family photo to cheer him up asap)

He still has an old photo of the whole family without you actually - it leaves a bittersweet feeling to throw out any kind of precious photo. Yet, the more he looks at it, the more it feels incomplete without you in the picture.

Huh, you know what? He'll search for you right now to grab something from Hell's Kitchen. Nothing much, he just wants to check up on you and get his 80 plates of cheeseburgers.

BELPHEGOR... who has a silver locket of you, him, and Beel on him at all times. It's convenient, lightweight, portable, and silver looks good on him according to Asmo.

Whenever he feels like he misses you or Beel (or both), opening up the locket solves 50% of his problems. However, it's not like he can hug the locket to sleep and bury his face into its shoulder. It's not as if the locket can carry him when his legs feel sore. All he can really do is hold it to his heart and shoot you/Beel a text.

Still, he does feel a little more relieved to see the photo. Whenever that rotting feeling of loneliness gets to him, one look at his locket reminds him that, "Hey, I still have them." It does ease his doubts, but we both know he'd never admit that openly.

Pressing the cold silver against his lips also became a habit he developed soon after getting the locket. Belphie... has chapped lips since he's always asleep and never drinking water. The cold feeling kind of distracts him from that uncomfortable feeling - it's much less effort than going all the way downstairs, grabbing a glass from the pantry, pouring water from a jug into it.... you know the drill.

Both you and Beel have one as well, but you don't wear it as often since Asmo loves to accessorize you with all sorts of new jewellery to try on. Beel wears it yeah, but it's usually off when he's eating - which is most of the time - since oil and grease are super obvious on silver stuff and it pains him to get something so precious dirty.

The other brothers are actually grateful he has the locket despite the initial jealousy. Belphie has his fair share of tantrums and everyone knows how younger, spoiled siblings can be when something pisses them off. The brothers have to try and baby him, which only ticks him off further. One peek at the locket when you or Beel aren't around and suddenly, it's like he's a new person - back to normal in a flash.

It saved Mammon's face a good punch when he accidently stepped on Belphie's foot at the planeterium while he was sleeping.

Taglist: Empty :(

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myhaikyuuacademia · 20 hours

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Totally Fake | Ant Vaughn x reader (Heartbreak High) ||

This is officially a series haha, trying to make it slowburn-ish but let's see if i can hold myself back

Fake dating, fem!reader

@foxxyhun

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Thankfully you had managed to get Ant’s number by Friday, not so thankfully you spent all day chatting with him about stupid, irrelevant stuff and Not about what your gameplan was going to be. And if, IF, you were actually going to the party later this evening, he’d probably be too wasted to talk about it anyway. Which means SLUTS was the last chance you had with him still sober and not hungover. Except you had no idea how to go about it, especially without drawing the attention of your friends who had been watching you like hawks all week. You were the first one in the classroom, anxiously ripping your notebook paper into tiny shreds while thinking about all the logistics. You didn’t get very far when you sensed someone sitting down next to you. “What did the poor paper do to deserve that?” Ant asked amusedly. “Wrong place, wrong time.” You grimaced and shrugged, immediately stopping and throwing all the paper shreds into your pencil case. “Oh no, don’t stop because of me, I’m sure it deserved it.” He joked before settling in his seat. “You don’t wanna sit next to your friends?” You asked, with a nod to the table they usually sat at. “Nah, I’d rather sit with my girlfriend.” He said casually. You didn’t feel very casual as you choked on your spit. God how embarrassing. It took you a minute to calm down, Ant worriedly asking if you were okay, and offering you some of his water, which you declined with a hand gesture as you were starting to calm down. “Sorry, sorry, I’m fine.” You coughed out. “Actually, that’s what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” He looked at you, almost disappointed, “You’re backing out?” He assumed. “What? No!” You hurried to say. “I wanted to talk about lining up our stories and everything, ground rules and stuff, you know?” Relief flooded his face, “Ah, okay gotcha!” He seemed much happier. The class was slowly filling up and you were dreading the moment your friends would enter. “Well I already told pretty much everyone that you’re my girlfriend.” He added, catching you completely offguard as you watched the doorway waiting for the inevitable arrival of your friends. “Oh.” Surprised you turned your head to look at him. “Okay.” You added after a second. “What about your mom?”

“Nah, not her yet. But like, Spider and Dusty.” He clarified. Your face felt warm. “Did you tell them it was fake too?” You leaned in closer to whisper it, now that the class was almost full. “No.” He grinned at you conspiringly. You grinned back at him, his answer, and the way he looked at you, making your whole body tingle. “Oh. My. God.” Darrens dramatic voice came from opposite the table. “You two totally ARE together.” Amerie beside them looked satisfied with herself, while Quinni stimmed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. They sat down at your table while Ant put an arm around your shoulder, “Yeah, so what?” He asked. Your face was burning, as was the parts where his arm touched you. Darrens mouth wide agape, while Quinni looked just as excited as before. “Oh my god, y/n, that’s so cute!! Congrats!” She said, happily, but after a second she looked a little less happy and a little more confused. Disappointed, even. “But why didn’t you tell us?” She asked. “Thrill of a secret relationship I bet.” Amerie added, feeling much cooler than she actually was. “But really, him?” Darren pointed at Ant. Wow rude. Your brows furrowed and you leaned into the boy next to you a little more without noticing. “What do you mean? You don’t think he's cute?” Trying to paddle back Darren stuttered out something a long the lines of, “No, that’s not what I mean, I just, I didn’t think he was your type is all.” “well, to be fair, we never knew what her type was.” Quinni added. “She never told us who she was crushing on, or what she liked in a guy, or girl.” You nodded, she was telling the truth, you usually kept things like that to yourself. “Well, I for one, am happy for you two, though I totally didn’t get any vibes when I was asking for a slap band earlier this week.” Amerie said, crossing her arms. She sounded accusing, like she was about to interrogate the two of you, when thankfully Miss Obah asked everyone to pay attention and started class. Ant didn’t take his arm off your shoulder the whole time.

When he finally did, after class ended, you couldn’t suppress your pout. Logically, you understood it was so both of you could pack your things, but this whole thing didn’t feel very logical, no matter how hard you tried. So instead, once both of you had finished, you grabbed his hand and threaded your fingers with his. Still slightly pouting. He looked down at you and laughed, “What now?” “I think she’s upset you took your arm off of her.” Darren, eagle-eyed gossip lover they are, supplied. “Oh, really?” Ant seemed surprised and looked at you for confirmation. “Yeah, kinda.” You mumbled embarrassed, avoiding his gaze. He chuckled before leaning in close and whispering in your ear. “I’ll touch you all you want at the party later.” Your face was beet red. “Ant!” You whisper shouted, scandalized and wide-eyed. He just tugged you along with him, towards the school exit. “They’re so cute together.” You overheard Quinni say to Amerie and Darren behind you. “Something’s fishy.” Both of them replied in unison. You ignored it, keeping going with Ant. “What now?” You asked once outside the school gate, still holding his hand. Refusing to be the one to let go, actually. “Well, I have some time before the party starts, which, you totally are going to right?” He asked in such a way that you felt a no would break his heart, so you just nodded. How come you are immune to peer-pressure when it was your friends but not when it was the guy you’ve been fake-dating for less than a week. “Great! Well, wanna hang out until then?” You smiled. “Sure!! Oh, we can talk about the logistics of it all, like when did we even start dating and what church do I go to? Or is that even something that’s important to your mother?” You dragged him along, totally rambling at this point about all the different things you had to decide on for the story to be foolproof. When you turned to look at him, waiting for him to say something, you noticed the way he was smiling at you. “Oh, what? Am I overthinking?” You questioned out loud. “No, no, it’s fine. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that much.” He still looked at you in a way you had trouble deciphering. “Oh. Well, I guess I don’t talk a lot. Usually. But also we haven’t really spoken before this week so…” You trailed off. “Hmmh, yeah, but we’ve been in the same year for a while now.” He said, before turning back to look at the way ahead. “You usually only talk when spoken to.” Oh. He had noticed that? He had noticed you? Before you ever talked to him? “Oh, um. I guess that’s right.” You squeezed his hand subconsciously. “I like hearing you talk.” He squeezed your hand back. “Plus, you’re so smart, I wouldn’t have thought about half of the things you mentioned. Maybe we should write it all down.” You nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”

“Woah, your room is awesome.” Ant was currently walking through your room looking at all the little trinkets that were… everywhere frankly. Picking them up and putting them down again. “Haha, thanks.” You sat on the edge of your bed, not knowing what to do with yourself as you watched him. “Woah, you like Marvel?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Uh yeah, I love it.” You laughed. He put the action figure down and turned around, very serious all of a sudden. “This calls for a movie night.” He explained. You grinned. “Sure, I’m always up for a movie.. But let’s talk business first.” You scooched to the side and patted the spot next to you. He groaned dramatically and walked over before sitting down. “Why does this feel like homework all of a sudden.” Your face scrunched up at that. “Sorry. But this is just so our story doesn’t fall apart.” He turned to look at you, head hanging to the side. “You really think it’s necessary?” “Well. Yeah.” You reply. “What if your mom asks us how we met, our what our first date was, and we say different things. Better to be prepared.” He pouts playfully, “Well, fine I guess.” In the end you agree on simple things, you met at school, duh, and worked a project together, after which you became friends, before Ant asked you on a date to the diner, and then a second date to the movies, before asking you to be his girlfriend. Easy enough. He said it was okay not to go to church as long as you were still acting Christian enough in front of his mom. Whatever that means. The reason he was only introducing you now was because you could disprove what was written on the map. You were scared of meeting his parents, so it had taken you a while to gather the courage, and he wanted to be sure before bringing a girlfriend home. Easy. Plausible. Good story. Boring, but believable. In the end you wrote it all down, twice, one copy for you and one for him, just in case you needed it. “Can we finally watch a movie?” He whined as you gave him his paper. “I don’t know, the party is soon, and I don’t know about you, but I definitely have to get ready. You think we can manage to squeeze a movie in?” He nodded, completely convinced. “How long can it take to get ready.” Not believing this was an issue. “Oh buddy…If only you knew.” You patted his shoulder before getting your remote and turning on the tv. It was difficult, at first, to concentrate on the movie, when he was so close and warm, shoulder against shoulder, and legs touching. Your body felt on fire. After a while he wrapped his arm around you too, pulling you ever so slightly closer, if that was even possible.

“Oh! I love this part.” He pointed towards the screen with the hand not resting on your hip. “What? No way, that’s my favorite part.” You looked up at him excitedly. “No way!” He turned to look at you too. You nodded emphatically. “You’re so cool.” He gave you a squeeze. He turned back towards the screen, and you did too, after staring at him for a little while longer. In the end, he ended up staying, watching you get ready, since there was no time for him to go home before Dusty’s band performed. “Whoa, wait, what is that?” You were about to put on your fake lashes, putting glue on the strip when Ant’s head popped up next to you, dangerously close to poking your lash with his finger. “My fake lashes.” You explained. “Your lashes are fake?” He turned to you, staring intensely into your eyes, inspecting your lashes. “No, well yes, sometimes. I have real lashes. The one you’re looking at right now.” You laughed. “But sometimes I put on fake lashes, which looks kinda-“ You leaned towards the mirror to put your lashes on. “like this.” You said, leaning back to show him. “Oh my god that’s crazy.” He breathed out, totally stunned, which made you laugh even harder. After that he stayed next to you, watching you apply your makeup closely. “Hmmm..” You pursed your lips as you put the last thing in place. “I think that’s it.” You concluded. Before you could even turn to the side to face him, his voice piped up as he asked: “Can you put some on me?” The request came unexpectedly, but you happily obliged. You opted for some chrome glimmery dark blue green ish, you didn’t really know how to describe it, glitter shadow to put on top of his eyelids. Dabbing it in softly, he leaned in closely and you could feel his breath on your skin. “Okay, try opening your eyes.” You requested softly, holding his chin in your hand and looking at him intensely, assessing your work. He opened his eyes hesitantly. Chewing on your lip you came to the conclusion that this look needed some black liner, so you added a line underneath his eyes on his waterline, dragging it out into a straight “wing”. A difficult job, with this being a sensitive area and Ant not used to having stuff put this close to his eyes. He kept squirming and blinking, but eventually you got the job done to your satisfaction. “This looks sick.” You say as you remove your hands from his face and lean back. Giving him time to admire himself in your mirror, you put away your brushes and powders and liners. “You want to do something to your hair too?” He turned to look at you at that. “Kinda.” You look on your phone to check the time, before grimacing. “Sorry, I don’t think we have time. Actually we really need to go if we wanna make it in time.” You stand up and hold your hand out to him, pulling him up from where he was sitting. Your friends were definitely going to give you shit about barely reaching out to them later.

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