#but I’ve found some super nice people on here

[meazalykov]

the forest

salma paralluelo x orienteer!reader (request)

summary: your girlfriend tries to understand the sport you participate in

salma is a bit confused when you first invite her to watch one of your orienteering competitions live. 

she’s seen a few races on tv, but never in person, and you can tell by the way she fidgets with her hands that she’s nervous, even if she won’t admit it.

“are you sure you are not just going to get lost in the woods?” she jokes when you’re explaining how it works, but there’s a hint of genuine concern in her voice.

“i will be fine,” you laugh, kissing her before heading to the starting area. 

“i’ll see you after i win, okay?”

she watches you run off with the rest of the competitors, map and compass in hand, disappearing into the forest within seconds. and for the first time, salma realizes she has no idea what’s actually happening. 

she looks around at the other spectators, all of them more prepared than her with binoculars, and GPS trackers to follow the competitors’ progress.

“what am i even supposed to be looking at?” she mumbles to herself, squinting at the forest.

in her mind, she wished that she brought esmee or alexia with her– just for some company.

“you’re here for y/n, right?”

salma turns to see a girl standing next to her, probably in her late teens, sporting a y/n fan t-shirt. her eyes are wide and excited, and salma smiles awkwardly, hoping this girl can help.

“yeah… how’d you know?”

“well, you looked super confused. that’s usually how people are when they come to watch y/n for the first time,” the girl says, a laugh bubbling up. 

“i’m natalie, by the way. big fan of hers.”

salma’s relieved that someone knows what’s going on. 

“i’m salma. nice to meet you. so, um, can you explain what i’m supposed to be watching?”

natalie grins. “okay, so it’s orienteering, right? everyone gets a map with specific points they need to reach in a set order. those points are marked by little orange and white flags hidden in the forest. the goal is to navigate to each flag as fast as possible using just the map and a compass. no GPS or shortcuts. once they find the flag, there’s a sensor that registers their time.”

salma raises her eyebrows. “so, they’re just… running around trying to find these flags?”

“pretty much,” natalie says, shrugging. 

“but it’s way more technical than it looks. like, you have to be good at reading the map while running, keeping track of where you are, and planning the best routes to each point. that’s what makes y/n so good—she’s super fast and she barely ever makes mistakes with her navigation.”

“that sounds intense.” salma glances toward the dense trees where you disappeared, her respect for you growing with every word natalie says.

salma and you met outside of both of your sports. in fact, it was a mutual friend who set you both up at a party. 

when she found out that you did a sport too, she was happy to get familiar with it. even if it sounded confusing. 

“yeah, it’s mental,” natalie agrees, nodding. “and y/n’s one of the best. she’s won a ton of races.”

salma smiles softly, feeling proud. “i know. i’ve watched her a few times on tv, but this is my first time seeing it live.”

“oh, really? well, you’re in for a treat. she’s amazing to watch in person. plus, if she’s in the best mood, she’ll be back here at the finish in no time.”

salma watches as competitors start emerging from the forest, some sprinting toward the finish line, others clearly frustrated, taking longer routes back. 

every now and then, a beep goes off as they punch in at the last control point near the finish.

natalie’s eyes light up suddenly. “look! there she is!”

salma’s heart skips a beat as she spots you darting out from between the trees, sweat running down your face but a determined expression set in your features. 

you’re one of the fastest runners out there, navigating the final stretch like it’s second nature.

“she’s flying,” salma mutters in awe, watching as you punch your last point and sprint toward the finish line. 

within seconds, you cross it, panting and grinning widely.

natalie claps excitedly. “she did it! i think she might’ve won!”

salma’s too busy watching you catch your breath to hear the announcer confirm it, but when you glance her way, she waves excitedly, a proud smile taking over her face. 

you give her a tired thumbs-up before turning to cool down with your teammates.

“wow,” salma breathes, still trying to process the speed and skill you just showed. “that was insane.”

natalie grins at her. 

“told you she’s amazing.”

salma chuckles. 

“you really know a lot about this sport.”

“yeah, been following orienteering since i was a kid. and y/n’s one of my favorites.” 

natalie shuffles her feet, a little shy all of a sudden. 

“she’s, uh, actually the reason i started orienteering.”

“really?” salma’s eyes soften, touched by the girl’s enthusiasm. “you want to meet her?”

natalie’s jaw drops. “wait, are you serious?”

“of course! it’s the least i can do after you explained everything to me,” salma says, already walking toward you. 

natalie hesitates for a moment, then quickly follows.

you’re still cooling off when you see salma and a nervous-looking girl approaching. you smile, wiping your face with a towel.

“hey, you,” salma greets you, pulling you into a quick hug. “you were amazing out there.”

“thanks,” you mumble, catching your breath. your eyes shift to natalie, who’s staring at you in awe. 

“who’s your friend?”

“this is natalie. she’s a huge fan of yours and explained the whole race to me. i thought i’d bring her over to meet you.” salma grins, gesturing to natalie. 

natalie’s cheeks flush red as she stammers, “i-it’s such an honor to meet you, y/n. i’ve been following your career for years. you’re… you’re incredible.”

“thank you, natalie. that means a lot. and thanks for helping salma out—she probably would’ve been totally lost without you.” you chuckle softly, reaching out to pull the girl into a hug. 

“definitely,” salma adds, laughing. 

“i was ready to run into the forest myself and find out what was going on.”

natalie laughs too, the tension easing as she relaxes around you. 

“seriously, though, you were amazing today. i think you won.”

“we’ll find out soon enough, but i’m glad you got to see it live. there’s something special about being here, right?” you nod, smiling at her enthusiasm. 

“definitely,” natalie agrees, her smile wide. “and i’ll be cheering for you at every race i can.”

“same here. even if i don’t fully get it yet, i’ll always be here when i don’t have my own games.” salma wraps an arm around your waist, squeezing gently. 

you laugh softly, looking between salma and natalie.

“you two are the best.”

to whoever requested, I hope you liked this!! I tried my best to do some research before writing :D

[bitethedevil]

"Raphael feeling loved" anon here! 👋 I found what you wrote incredibly interesting.

However, I don't think I worded my ask clearly/correctly. I more so was curious on how Raphael would react to someone casually appreciating him or doing things that make him feel like he is cared about without anything being explicitly stated to him. Like how someone taking the initiative to just do a simple kind gesture for you (like a co-worker leaving a tin of homemade cookies for you to find on your desk after you helped them with their workload last week) can make you feel appreciated, how someone mentioning that something they saw remind them of you because they thought you might be interested in it (like a friend telling you about a newly opened shop they happened across recently and how it has things related to a niche hobby of yours) can make you feel cared about, etc. Obviously, the things that could/would potentially cause Raphael to feel like that would probably be completely different from the examples I gave and I would hardly be surprised if his reaction to experiencing such feelings would be similar how you described him and being loved, but I'm still curious on your thoughts about it.

Again though, I still greatly enjoyed your thoughts on how this dude would handle (or mishandle) someone explicitly loving and adoring him. I always appreciate how thorough you are in your answers and analyses. It makes them super interesting to read and think about.

Hi again anon!

When it comes to those things, I don’t think it would really rattle him at first. I think he would find it “cute” that another person is interested in him like that, and he would definitely not be shy to exploit it, but I don’t think it would go much further than that if we are talking purely affection. He is the type to keep people at a certain distance, I think.

I’m currently working on a chapter of my fic ‘More Than Our Fathers’ where it is a bit more of a soft Raphael. The woman he is pursuing is a demigoddess. He is interested in what she can do for him, and she is painfully aware and turns him down at every turn for almost a millennium.

(Tiny spoilers for a chapter of it that is not out yet if you read it)

In that, the first time she shows him affection (literally just platonic and casual handholding while she’s a bit drunk), he feels something else than just the achievement of getting closer to her and he h a t e s it. It disgusts him like everything else that makes him feel weak in life does, but he is (obviously) mostly disgusted with himself for even being capable of feeling something like that.

I’ve read somewhere that what is beautiful and lovely to mortals is disgusting and horrible to devils, and vice versa with what is horrible is beautiful to them. I do like the idea of a Raphael who is just on the verge of literally throwing up from those disgusting soft feelings because of his devil part, but yet a bit intrigued because it does feel nice to his human part that he suppresses.

Also leaves space for some delightfully awkward scenarios: Imagine starting a relationship with that idiot and he falls in love, but you can’t do anything too sweet to him, because he won’t stop gagging and making faces when you do as if you are literally torturing him by doing so.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[adrift-in-thyme]

Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate it! I’m thankful for y’all <33

[harmonizewithechoes]

.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

early chaggie days being a bit unsettling, but still pretty sweet

Vaggie: “Hey Charlie? I’m back.”

Charlie: “VAGGIE OHMYGOSH THERE YOU ARE!!!! I was worried sick! What were you doing wandering hell alone?? You’re still hurt! And new here!!”

Vaggie: “I’m fine, it’s not like I’m bleeding-”    

Charlie: “I was WORRIED! It’s been hours- your note just said ‘gone out’ it didn’t say if you’d be back!”

Vaggie: “Why would anyone leave you a note like that if they weren’t coming back?”

Charlie: “I DON’T KNOW THE NOTE DIDN’T SAY THAT EITHER!!!!”

Vaggie: “Right, sorry. I’ll make sure the next one does. I’m sorry.”

Charlie: “That’s! Not-!”

Vaggie: “I’m sorry Charlie.”

Charlie: “No no you don’t have to be sorry- going out whenever you want is fine! Dangerous, when you’ve just lost and EYE and a LOT OF BLOOD and your back is still FUCKED UP and you have a pretty face covered in bandages that I couldn’t change this morning because you left- which is fine, that’s fine it’s FINE-”

Vaggie: “You really don’t have to keep-”

Charlie: “-it’s just we NEED to get you a phone! No more ‘don’t wanna be trouble’ bullshit- this is serious! What if you’d needed help? How fuck was I supposed to even find you!?”

Vaggie: “Follow the trail of screaming people and blood?”

Charlie: “Wha- what blood?”

Vaggie: “Shit.”

Charlie: “Your blood?? Did your back- But it’s been burned shut since day one! Did someone-”

Vaggie: “Charlie-”

Charlie: “WHO-”

Vaggie: “No one did anything, okay? Look, no blood. See?”

Charlie: “….then why did you say that?”

Vaggie: “I might’ve… kinda sorta stabbed a few people who got too close. Uh. Nothing fatal. But there was some blood and screaming…”

Charlie: “They SCARED you.”

Vaggie: “No they really didn’t, it was just instinct.”

Charlie: “And this is hell, Vaggie- at least half of them were at least TRYING to scare you!”

Vaggie: “Well it worked. It was fucking scary how close I came to killing a few of them without even noticing.”

Charlie: “Vaggie…”

Vaggie: “I won’t go out again. I got what I needed, and I didn’t know you’d worry.”

Charlie: “Of course I worried…”

Vaggie: “You don’t have to. I’m just this month’s random dumbass sinner picked out of the rest of the trash and crashing on your couch, making you stress over dumb stuff. I’ll get out of your hair soon as the bandages come off.”

Charlie: “Don’t.”

Vaggie: “?”

Charlie: “Don’t, talk like that, about yourself. Please?”

Vaggie: “Like what?”

Charlie: “Like THAT.”

Vaggie: “I don’t even get what ‘that’ means. I only said what happened.”

Charlie: “I….. never mind.”

Vaggie: “Alright…”

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: “….what did you go out for anyway?”

Vaggie: “Spear.”

Charlie: “Spear? Like, spearmint gum or- OH!!”

Vaggie: “Just uh, just a spear.”

Charlie: “But isn’t that an Exorcist’s!? Vaggie- be carful! That’s one of the ONLY things that can-”

Vaggie: “-kill a sinner permanently, yeah, I know. Or gouge out their eye. Permanently.”

Charlie: “Oh.”

Vaggie: “I’ve seen them in action, I mean.”

Charlie: “And it doesn’t upset you?”

Vaggie: “It’s, complicated. Mainly it’s just, it’s a little reassuring to hold onto, you know?”

Charlie: “My hand is- I mean, sure, yes. That makes sense. I think.”

Vaggie: “…you can lock it up somewhere if you want, while I’m here. I don’t mind. This is your home-”

Charlie: “And yours. As long as you need it.”

Vaggie: “That’s, nice but-”

Charlie: “And while you’re here you should feel safe, and if the spear helps you feel safe around me, then okay. Good. You um, you didn’t sell anything super important to get it, right?”

Vaggie: “No, I found it behind a dumpster-”

Charlie: “Wow those are really pulling through on the amazing finds lately!”

Vaggie: “Charlie- huh?”

Charlie: “Good find! At the dumpster!”

Vaggie: “Charlie, it’s not for you. The spear. I didn’t get the spear because of you.”

Charlie: “I mean hell princess and stuff, first hellborn monster in all creation- totally understandable!”

Vaggie: “If you’re a monster then creation needs more of them.”

Charlie: “The carpet is still smoldering from me going all demon flames at you five minutes ago.”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “Yeah, because you were worried.”

Charlie: “Still. Scary?”

Vaggie: “Adorable.”

Charlie: “….really?”

Vaggie: “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, because you care, and you get angry when the rest of the world doesn’t care as much as you do. It’s really.” (pause) “It’s new. It’s really new, and I’m glad I got to see it.”

Charlie: “If you’re sure…”

Vaggie: “Yep. The horns and tail are cute, too.”

Charlie: “The- aww SHOOT! They’re still out? This whole time??”

Vaggie: “You didn’t notice grabbing my wrist with your tail?”

Charlie: “I WHAT??? IM SORRY OH FUCK OH SHIT IT- IT HAS A MIND OF IT’S OWN I SWEAR- FUCK WHY WON’t IT LET GO-”

Vaggie: “It’s fine. If it wants to cling then let it. I’d like to sit down though, so.”

Charlie: “Right! Sorry!”

Vaggie: “Charlie it’s fine.” (sigh) “Feels like we’ve used that word too much today.”

Charlie: “Ugh you’re right, sorry…”

Vaggie: “And that one too. Stop.”

Charlie: “Fine.”

Vaggie: “….”

Charlie: “….sorry?”

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “…you’re lucky you’re cute.”

Charlie: “And YOU’RE lucky you’re tiny and fit on the couch. There’s an actual bed here! In case you forgot since the last time I told you! Now, sit kitchen?”

Vaggie: “Actually I was thinking sit couch and I’m not taking your bed.”

Charlie: “Did you remember to eat anything while out poking rude hell people with your new spear?”

Vaggie: “S- sure I, uh, I did. Do that.”

Charlie: “Uh-huh.”

Vaggie: “Yes.”

Charlie: “Mmhmm.”

Vaggie: “…I did do it.”

Charlie: “Bzzt, lies. To the snackies we go!”

Vaggie: “But-”

Charlie: “And I’m getting you in that bed eventually. It’s gonna happen. Couches can’t be good for your back, even when you’re so small! Especially when you’re hurt!”

Vaggie: “Charlie, if I was in your bed you’d never get any SLEEP.”

Charlie: “Why not? I like being around you!”

Vaggie: “I move around too much at night.”

Charlie: “Bad dreams?”

Vaggie: “…sure.”

Charlie: “Well maybe not being alone when you wake up would help? That’s what Razzle and Dazzle do for me sometimes- right guys?”

Razzle: “Baa!”

Dazzle: “Mreh.”

Vaggie: “Hi fellas… What… what happened to your kitchen.”

Charlie: “I asked them to get snacks ready!”

Vaggie: “It’s a warzone.”

Charlie: “It’s snack time?”

Vaggie: “There’s enough doughnuts here to feed a whole battalion after a battle.”

Charlie: “Well since you weren’t here to ASK I couldn’t TELL them what KIND of doughnut would be your FAVORITE.”

Razzle & Dazzle: “Ree!”

Charlie: “So we had to make all the kinds. But only this one time, okay guys?”

Razzle & Dazzle: “Grrr….”

Vaggie: (smiles) “Thought you said you weren’t even sure I’d be back.”

Charlie: “I wasn’t. You’re the first sinner who’s ever crashed on my couch, so I just, hoped.”

Vaggie: “…..”

Vaggie: “Thanks. For the hope.”

Charlie: “You’re welcome. Really, literally, you’re welcome. Couch or wherever.”

Vaggie: “……or buried under a mountain of pastries?”

Charlie: “Finding your favorite kind is IMPORTANT okay!”

Vaggie: “There’s dough splatters on the ceiling.”

Charlie: “You’re worth a few dough splatters and an artfully singed carpet. You’d also be worth some lost sleep. Now! Staring with the basic, a classic plain glaze….” (busily dives into doughnut infogump)

Vaggie: “….”

Dazzle: “Rrr?” (hands her a tissue)

Vaggie: “...huh? Oh.” (takes tissue) “Thanks….” (dabs at her eye while Charlie isn’t looking)

[starryinkart]

[CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY!!!]

(Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!!)

Soooo I was sucked into Poppy Playtime again because of these goobers!! I don’t think I’ve ever posted Poppy Playtime stuff on here before, buttt I think I will now, I just wish the fandom was a bit bigger and more lively lmao 🤣

Catnap is my #1 favorite, then DogDay, then KC, and then Hoppy! I love the others too, but Bubba and Crafty are so hard to draw atm. I just need to practice more with them!😓

{Colorless Lines Below!!}

Headcannons for them below too!!!

———————

Some headcannons in the show universe cause I’m feeling fun:

- Catnap is the youngest! DogDay is the oldest of the crew! Their age order goes (oldest to youngest) DogDay, Bubba, Picky, Kickin, Crafty, Bobby, Hoppy, Catnap!

- Catnap doesn’t talk much, but he can. Just with a low voice that tends to be calming, and very sweet sounding. He usually just points, says short answers like yes or no, and nods.

- While Kickin (or KC) is the most egocentric and confident, Hoppy is the most energetic and tends to like talking people’s heads off, which causes them to butt heads at times, all while Picky tends to be the usual third wheel, often just quietly eating.

- Crafty is the most creative while Bubba is the most thoughtful and intelligent, which usually allows them to have deep, meaningful conversations of the wonders of life together.

-Crafty is the shyest out of the bunch, usually drawing with Catnap calmly, sharing her creations with him or hanging out with Bubba.

- Bobby and Picky tend to share their love for the world together, usually playing dress up with each other, talking about crushes. or cooking of course! Bobby always has something lovely to share and Picky, in contrast to her name, always is open to trying something new, as long as she thinks she may like it.

- In contrast to the canon, all of the crew just magically woke up in the Playcare, with no memories of before they opened their eyes to the colorful world around them. DogDay and Bubba were the first to appear, Picky, Crafty and Kickin spawning after, Bobby and Hoppy spawning together and Catnap spawning alone. There seems to be no way out, so the crew just embraces their situation and tries their best to not think about it too much.

- Catnap was the last and most unexpected to spawn in. From the time he opened his eyes to the new world around him, he had felt like something was off, like he didn’t belong there. While most of the others treated him nice, some of the crew were uneasy about his sudden appearance, seemingly years after the last of the previous arrivals had spawned in.

- Catnap begins to grow close to DogDay, almost becoming like his little brother. They spend the most time together, due to DDs kindness and warm welcoming energy towards him on his arrival! Also them both noticing they wore opposite necklaces, Cat being the moon and DD being the sun helped with that connection too!

- Kickin doesn’t really like or trust Catnap much, and doesn’t try to hide it, making snarky remarks and comments to clearly express his dislike for him.

- Catnap is super playful with the others, his best friends being Dog Day, Hoppy and Crafty! He tends to move like a ghost, the crew not usually noticing they are in his presence until they turn around! A lot of times, he hangs by his tail on the trees to say hello, or can be found in the fields laying in the grass and sleeping.

- Cat can sleep anywhere that is a surface, and is not wet.

- Every once and while, Cat swears he can see a skinny, metallic hand in the shadows, beckoning his attention. He’s tried to bring it up to the others, but they either think he’s acting weird, insane, or tell him not to worry about it.

———————

If you want to hear more, my asks are open!!! And I will be drawing them inbetween my Absolutely Chapters for Murder Drones, which I am STILL working on and Chapter 4 is coming out soon!! Promise, I didn’t forget, things have just been busy!!

ALSOOOOO New Murder Drones Comic for King Solver N coming this weekend 👀👀👀 Perhaps some angst or something fun?

[kaz-oooo]

Seen some people talking about Lovejoy and Wilbur Soot’s music and feeling very upset about letting go of those songs since they brought a lot of comfort and joy.

I’m not gonna tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. I think it’s ultimately up to you to decide if you want to continue listening to Wilbur’s music or not. What I am gonna do is list some alternative artists that I either think have similar vibes or I know Wilbur / Lovejoy had cited as inspirations so you guys can find some new tunes without stepping too far out of you comfort zone.

(Also feel free to tag on and add your own suggestions as well, the more the merrier)

Lovejoy

Arctic Monkeys — when Wilbur started the band he claimed he wanted to be like the Arctic Monkeys one day. I’ve also described a lot of their later music as being very similar to Arctic Monkeys, so if you like Wake Up and It’s over and Normal People Things then you’d love them

Los Campansino’s — Wilbur has stated before that this is his favourite band so.. very likely big inspiration for his music. Lovejoy did a cover of Knee Deep at ATP, their version is a bit more chill than the original. I’m a big Los Campansino’s fan honestly, but for stuff Lovejoy related I’ve say the albums “Sick Scenes” and “Romance Is Boring” would have the most appeal.

Wet Leg — just a good band that I think has a similar vibe, especially with themes and funky tunes. Also I’ve seen Wilbur list them in his personal playlists before so he enjoys them as well

Good Kid — not a personal favourite of mine, but their songs have similar vibes and they toured with Lovejoy as well so Lovejoy enjoy their music.

James Marriot — (editing Kaz here.. not gonna change the phrasing of this part but I’ve been told James Marriott has unfollowed Wilbur on Twitter) friend of Wilbur’s (do with that information as you will) excellent musician and would heartily recommend his music if you haven’t listened already. Also worked very closely with the band before, especially in the early days so I wouldn’t doubt they’ve influenced each others music quite a bit

MSR and YCGMA

100gecs and other hyperpop artists — admittedly not a genre I listen to a lot, but if you liked Dropshipped Cat Shirt, especially the ending, then you’ll vibe with this genre a lot.

Jack Stauber — Wilbur’s been a longtime fan of his music, it’s a bit weird and silly on a surface level but nice and miserable as well. If you like MSR I’d recommend.

Crywank — helped Wilbur with producing MSR, plus I think Wilbur took some heavy inspiration from them as well. If you like miserable music you’ll love Crywank. (Also Lovejoy did a cover of privately owned, so if you liked that go check out the original)

More Los Campansino’s — ok.. I’m repeating bands now, but I’m recommending different albums this time! “We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed” “Hello Sadness” and “No Blues”

Peach Pit — again, not a favourite of mine but they have nice chill vibes and the songs I’ve listened to are just as miserable as these albums.

Beabadoobee — once again, not someone I listen to a lot, but definitely got the same chill acoustic music as YCGMA especially, Lovejoy had done a cover of The Perfect Pair so if you liked that, and you like these albums you’d like beabadoobee.

E-girl Trilogy / comedy music

Bo Burnham — another favourite artist of Wilbur’s, someone else he’s cited as an inspiration and top tier comedy tunes! If you like Wilbur’s sadder music as well you’d definitely enjoy Inside. Otherwise his older music is great and very fun!

Lemon Demon — probably not an inspiration for Wilbur’s comedy music, but he’s definitely listened to it, it’s very fun and silly, also Ranboo highly recommends (as do I)

Other recommendations

Modern Baseball — found this band through Wilbur’s recommendations, they’re very fun and cool. Very Midwest emo, a genre that I think inspired MSR.

The Front Bottoms.. but with a warning — so I’m not super familiar with the story, but from memory a former member abused a fan, they aren’t apart of the band anymore but the current members handled the situation very poorly. This was another favourite band of Wilbur’s and I get why, very emotional and angsty. I find their lyrics hit a bit harder than Modern Baseball’s but they make very similar music.

AJJ — kinda similar to Crywank, another band I found through Wilbur’s recommendation.

Radiohead / the smiths / the cure / the strokes / just 70’s and 80’s alt rock bands — Wilbur definitely enjoys this music and took inspiration here and they’re all very cool and fun. I’m not super familiar with these bands but I know a lot from this time have good old controversies so be mindful of that, but yeahhh good music!

I don’t know how but the found me — alt/indie rock band with very fun tunes! Sits alongside Wilbur’s comedy music and Lovejoy in my playlists a lot of the times so.. if you like those two you’d probably like this band :) also Dallon Weekes deserves all the love in the world, all his former bandmates (Brendon Urie and Ryan Seaman) keep fucking him over.

Cavetown — not sadboy acoustic like YCGMA but very chill and good acoustic tunes nonetheless. Also a bit similar to Beabadoobee so if you like that you’ll like this :) oh also, i know a lot of people liked Lovejoy cos they gave off a lot of aromantic vibes, Cavetown is openly Aro / Ace so.. lots of aro vibes in his music :D

Yotam Perel — Wilbur used his music in the background of his streams, typically the album "Nice Snakes" but he used "A Long List of Short Songs" as well. It's great background music honestly, some songs have entered my top 100 playlists on spotify, but yeah, if you liked the funky tunes in the back of the geoguessr streams, this is what he played

[foxaftershocks]

I just wanted to say I absolutely adore how you write Lars. I can perfectly imagine him in my head and it’s spot on. Please just keep writing all the Lars ❤️

I had an idea where the reader works at the lab with Lars. She has a crush on him but thinks he doesn’t like her but it’s more so because she makes him nervous and he doesn’t know how to act around her.

Winston sends them out to another borough (Queens, Brooklyn, etc) to collect an item he wants to extract or study and they could either get stranded and have to spend the night somewhere or come into some danger and finally confess their feelings? Maybe a bit of angst or jealousy followed by fluff. Thank you! 🥰

Here you go! It's got some jealousy, its got the one bed trope, it's got yearning and pining, and it's super long. I hope you like it.

“Seriously, he hates me,” you said.

Lucky shook her head, aiming the crossbow at the target. Her smile was secretive and you couldn’t unpack it without her thoughts being voiced. You kicked your legs as you watched, hands trapped under your thighs, waiting for the thunk of the bolt hitting the target. You offered a high five for the bullseye.

“He doesn’t,” Lucky said, “hate you, that is.”

“He’s always so… mean,” you said, trying to come up with the right words.

“He’s mean to everyone. If anything, that means he likes you,” she replied.

“He glares at me,” you said.

“I think that’s just his face.”

“Okay, well, when I enter a room he walks out of it pretty quickly and I always get the feeling it’s because of me. Like he can’t even stand to be in the same room as me,” you said, feet kicking harder as you thought about it.

Just that morning you’d been busy making a coffee in the tiny kitchenette you’d petitioned Winston to invest in. When you’d turned around, slowly mixing the mixture with a teaspoon, you’d looked up to find Lars standing just behind you, looking at you with furrowed brow and harsh glare. Instead of saying anything to you, he spun on his heels and stalked away, leaving you with a bad taste in your mouth.

You had plenty of other examples and each one left you sure that he wanted you to leave the lab and never return.

“Well, that could be anything,” she said, “maybe he just remembers something he has to do. Nothing to do with you at all.”

“Right,” you snorted, “sure.”

You watched her sink another bolt into the target, trying to work out what Lars’ problem was. You were always polite, always nice, sometimes a little too nice, and had never done anything to him. Maybe he’d realised that you had the tiniest crush on him and felt so offended by that he had to be cruel.

And what did it say about you that you still had that tiny, really not very significant at all, minuscule crush on him?

“Gee, I sure hope I don’t pay people to sit around and not do work all day.”

You startled, looking up into the face of Winston. Guilt curled around your heart, stomach sinking as you stared at him. He waited a moment, staring at you.

“We were just…” you trailed off, trying to find some excuse.

“Bouncing ideas off each other,” Lucky said, “while weapons testing.”

A small smile flicked the corners of his mouth up and you relaxed. It wasn’t often Winston got upset with you. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d seen him get upset with you. Stern, sure, but not upset. So his small smile set you at ease.

“Lucky for you I have an assignment for you,” he said, “come on, we have something to pick up.”

You trailed behind him, a bounce in your step. You’d been stuck in the lab for too long, working on calculations and data input. Getting to stretch your legs and go out into the world was exciting.

Until you saw who’s station Winston was leading you to.

“Pinfield, I’ve found you a partner,” he said.

Lars looked up, brightening until he saw you standing there, shifting your weight between your feet. A storm flew over his face, a glower levelled in your direction.

“Absolutely not,” he said.

“Play nice. It’s out in Brooklyn so it’s gone take you most of the day. Miss Hathaway has a trunk we’re interested in procuring. Retrieve it and bring it back here. She’s expecting you,” he said.

“No way,” Lars said.

“You’ll do it or you’ll be on gunk duty,” he said, “until summer.”

His face drained of whatever colour there might have been left. He stood abruptly, the screech of the stool on the floor harsh on the ears.

“You can’t be serious,” he said.

“As the plague,” Winston replied, “do it, Pinfield. It’ll only be a few hours.”

“I won’t even bite,” you said, speaking before your thoughts could catch up.

Winston’s chuckle as he clapped your shoulder only brought heat to your cheeks. Lars wasn’t even looking at you. Cursing internally, you feared you might have just made it worse.

“See? She’ll play nice with you,” Winston said, giving you a little shove in his direction, “van is waiting out back.”

He trudged off, not even bothering to see if you were following. His shoulders were tense and you could faintly hear him muttering to himself, no doubt cursing your very existence. Hours with him as you trekked out to Brooklyn on a fetch mission were shaping up to be a very specific form of torture.

He pushed the door open, letting in overcast sunlight. The air was cold, far too cold, and you shivered, curling your arms around your body as you stepped outside. The depths of December was not the time to be giving yourself over to the elements. Sliding in the van beside him, you ignored the curl of his upper lip as you directed the air vents towards you, flicking on the heat.

The roads were busy, people trying to beat the usual Friday holiday rush. Leaning back in your seat, you turned your gaze to the window, people watching as best you could in the stop start motion. It didn’t take long for the first flutters of white to pass by.

“It’s snowing,” you said, almost to yourself instead of to the other presence in the car.

“It’ll stop,” he said.

When you glanced over his knuckles had turned white around the steering wheel and his jaw was clenched. You let yourself look at him for a moment, knowing he couldn’t look back. Your eyes traced over his profile, along his nose, over what you’d always imagined would be soft lips, down his chin, the long column of his neck disappearing under the buttoned up collar of his shirt. he was beautiful. That much was obvious to you.

If he realised you were looking at him, he was ignoring it. And you. His fingers reached for the volume, turning up the radio until it would be awkward to talk. You continued to look, watching him. He was so careful as he drove, cautious, leaning forward to peer through the windscreen. He didn’t seem comfortable in his role as driver, tense and awkward. Or maybe he was just always like that.

The snow began to come down in flurries, sticking to the ground. Traffic slowed down even more, coming to a crawl. You pressed your nose to the window, looking out on the world.

“It’s getting worse,” you said, raising your voice to be heard over the radio.

“It’ll stop,” he said again.

You were pretty sure he was wrong.

Hours passed in silence, taking longer than it should have. The snow was falling thick and fast, the taillights of the car in front your constant companion. Lars wasn’t breathing easy, loud in the car, the radio long since turned down so he could concentrate. You were doing your best to make yourself a non-entity, not wanting to distract him at all. He’s already snapped at you just for playing with the heat.

Until it became clear that you had to say something.

“We can’t keep on,” you said.

“We’re almost there,” he ground out.

“Lars, I think we should stop until it clears up,” you said, “or at least stops snowing.”

“It doesn’t look like it’s going to stop any time soon. We should press on,” he said, jaw still clenched.

“Lars.” You waited until the van had braked again, his face turning towards him, “we have to stop.”

“Fuck,” burst from him, his hands slamming down on the steering wheel. You jumped at the sound of the horn blaring, “fine. Find somewhere for us to spend the night.”

You typed into the gps, looking for any kind of hotel nearby. Anywhere the two of you could stay as you waited for this storm to blow over. He followed the directions, pulling off the road to follow the directions as best he could in the swirl of snow and darkness.

The carpark was surprisingly full and you were worried you wouldn’t be able to find a room there. He put the car into park, staring up at the building in front of you. Instead of talking to you, he pushed the door open. You shivered, the cold invading you. Your coat was not enough to handle a snow storm.

“Come on,” he groused.

You made a dash for the front door, doing your best not to slip. His hand caught you around the elbow, keeping you steady as your feet almost came out from under you. He practically dragged you through the front door into the warm light and warm air of the entrance. Crossing over to the check in desk, you felt apprehension.

“You’re in luck,” the concierge said, “we have one last room available tonight. This weather has certainly changed a lot of people’s plans.”

“No. We need two rooms,” Lars cut in before you could say anything.

“Ah, then I’m afraid you’re not in luck. We really only have on room still available,” he said.

“We’ll take it,” you cut in before he could say anything.

One room was better than no rooms and you didn’t want to risk either of you having to go back out into that weather. You took the key from him and led a disgruntled Lars to the bank of elevators.

“Why would you do that?” he hissed when the doors closed.

“Did you want to go back out there? Because I sure as hell don’t,” you said.

He rolled his eyes, looking away from you with his arms crossed over his chest like a petulant teenager.

“Look, you can put up with me for one night. Just suck it up and deal with it and then tomorrow morning we’ll go finish the job,” you said, tired of how hostile he always was with you. It was one night. He could deal with it.

He didn’t answer. The doors open and he strode forward, plucking the key from you. You rolled your eyes, following him, trying not to look at the way his ass looked in his slacks. He might infuriate you, he might hate you, but you still felt butterflies around him and found him stupidly attractive.

Pushing open the door to the one room you were going to be sharing with him, he flicked on the lights. You ran into his back as he stopped without warning.

“What?” you asked, “is there something wrong? Did we find the murder hotel?”

You looked around his shoulder and then felt yourself freeze with him. One bed. One fucking bed. God must be laughing at you because this had to be some kind of sick joke. One double bed in the small room. This was going to kill you.

“Absolutely not,” he said, turning around to storm out only to find you still there.

He looked down at you, eyes flashing, jaw clenched, lips pressed together tight. You placed a hand on his chest, ready to push him back. He made a small noise, stepping back as if your touch burned. Maybe it did.

“I’ll go down and ask for a trundle bed or something,” you said.

You held a hand out to him, palm up, waiting for the key. He stared at you, blinked, then dropped it into your hand to keep from touching you.

Unfortunately, your trip was a bust. Too many people stuffed into a small hotel, not enough facilities for the weather. You returned on heavy feet, ignoring the man riding the elevator with you as you tried to come up with a way to tell Lars that wasn’t going to blow the entire thing up. You doubted he was above storming out into the snow and sleeping in the van just to prove a point.

“Not a fan of this weather?”

You looked up, finding the man watching you in the mirrored doors.

“Oh no, that’s not… It’s fine. Better if I was at home than here,” you replied.

“I dunno. I think there’s something magical about an unexpected snow storm in a hotel. All kinds of people come together that would normally stay so seperate,” he said, studying your face in the reflection.

You looked back, if only because his thoughts had surprised you. You hadn’t thought about it that way, seeing the nuisance the entire thing was rather than the possibilities it presented. He gave you a half smile.

“After all, would we have met without it?” he asked.

“I don’t even know you,” you replied.

“Dave.”

He offered you his hand. The palm was calloused and warm against yours and you felt shy as you gave him your name. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you averted your gaze down to your feet. His look of interest at you was new and a flutter of excitement started in your chest. It wasn’t like anything was going to happen with Lars.

“Same floor,” he said as the doors opened with a ding.

You stepped out into the hall, carpet softening the sounds of your footsteps. He followed, looking down at you as you walked side by side, hands close enough to almost brush against one another.

“This is me,” you said, coming to a stop outside the door, dread filling your stomach at what was waiting beyond for you.

“If you need any help warming up, I’m only two doors down,” he said, pointing at an identical door just down the hall from you.

The door to your room opened without warning, Lars sticking his head out. His hair was ruffled, as if he’d running his fingers through it and his sneer was not promising for the coming conversation. You gaped at him as his hand shot out, grasping your wrist and pulling you closer.

“That won’t be necessary,” he told Dave, shutting the door in his face.

“What was-“ you tried to ask before he interrupted you.

“Only an idiot would accept an offer to share a room with a stranger,” he said, cutting you off, “are you really that desperate?”

“Desperate for what?” you shot back.

His mouth opened and then shut with a snap, as if he didn’t deserve an answer. He spun on his heels, striding back to the bed, three steps away from you then back again. The skin of your wrist burned from where his touch had been fingers circling it like a manacle.

“Well?” he asked as if you’d been having a completely different conversation.

“Well what?” you asked.

“Are they going to bring a trundle?” he asked.

Ah, right, yes, that.

“They’re all out,” you said, ripping the bandaid off quick in the hopes it would hurt less.

“What do you mean they’re all out?” he asked, voice going deathly still.

“Something about a surprise snow storm and not being prepared for so many guests. If you want to go argue with them, be my guest.”

You gestured to the door and for a moment you really believed he was about to storm out of there to argue with the front desk. Then he shook his head, turning away form you so you couldn’t see the inevitable rage on his face.

“I know it’s a less than pleasant situation, but we can share a bed for one night like adults,” you said to his tense back.

He muttered something that sounded like an insult to your intelligence before he took his glasses off and dragged a hand down his face. Replacing them, he turned back to you. You’d never seen him without his glasses on before. You wondered how much of a difference it made.

“Let’s just get this over with. Make sure you stay on your side of the bed,” he said.

You would have snakily suggested making a pillow wall if you thought there’d been enough for that. As it was, the pillow situation was little depressing. One each.

You let him pick which side he wanted first, not wanting to annoy him further. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you shucked your coat off, lying it aside. Tugging each shoe off, you glanced over your shoulder at him. He still had his tie on. He wouldn’t be sleeping in that would he? Apparently he would. You were going to have a hard enough time trying to sleep in your jeans. He wasn’t human. He couldn’t be.

You climbed into the bed, turning on your side so you didn’t have to see him. The bed dipped as he lay down beside you, a tug on the covers. The lights went off, leaving you in darkness. Facing the window, you watched the snow fall, not sure you’d be able to fall asleep. Shadows passed over the glass, the pile of snow growing on the window. You sighed, soft in the silence.

The longer you waited, the more the cold began to invade your senses. You could put it off when you were focusing on other things, problems to solve. Now you were left waiting, shivering in the expanse of the bed.

Lars was close enough you could almost feel his body heat. The bed wasn’t as big as either of you would have liked if you had to guess. He shifted again. You curled up in a ball, hugging your knees to your chest, trying to stop the shivering. You didn’t want to wake him. He hated you enough as it was.

A grunted huff. You tensed, waiting to see what happened. Nothing. Silence reigned again. You tried to relax again but the shivering was becoming unbearable.

“For gods sake,” you heard Lars mutter into the dark.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Can’t you stop?” he demanded.

“I’m trying,” you replied through gritted teeth, “it’s so fucking cold.”

A hand reached out, fingertips brushing over your spine. You jerked back, shrieking when you almost fell out of the bed. An arm curled around your waist, hauling you against a warm body. You struggled against the hold trying to put more space between the two of you.

“Stop flailing about like a fish,” he said.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“I know you find me repulsive but perhaps you can put that aside for one night so you don’t freeze to death and we can both maybe get some sleep,” he said, voice soft, breath ghosting against your skin, “shared body heat is the best chance of that.”

He certainly was warm against you.

“I don’t find you repulsive,” you whispered, not able to focus on anything else. If you did then you’d feel the way his body felt against yours, the hard planes of his chest, the curve of his legs as the slotted behind you, the soft rise and fall of his breathing.

“Course you do,” he said, “don’t be stupid.”

You turned, needing to see his face. You had no idea what was going through his head but whatever it was you needed him to know he was wrong. His arms tightened around you as if wanting to stop you but you wiggled your way around to face him.

He was so close, nose brushing against yours. You froze, finding him without his glasses, breath brushing your lips. He was softer without them, more boyish, less of something to hide behind. He drew back, retreating, like you were chasing him away.

“I don’t find you repulsive. Not at all. You’re…” you hesitated, not wanting to reveal your hand to him.

He began to retract his arms from around you but you reached out, winding his tie around your hand, keeping him in place. He glanced down then back to your face, lingering a moment. You must have been mistaken because otherwise he had been looking at your lips and that would be too much to handle.

“I’m what?” he asked, voice barely above an exhalation.

“You’re beautiful,” came from you without permission.

Lying so close to him in the dark, lit up by the lights out on the street, it felt like a confessional, the perfect moment for secrets to spill out.

He blinked, a look of confusion passing over his face. On of your hands came up, tracing over the way his eyebrows came together, smoothing the line between them.

“You’re the one who hates me,” you said when no response came forth.

“What makes you think that?” he asked, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers continued to trace over his features. He wasn’t batting you away, demanding you stay on your side, to stop bothering him.

“You glare at me, you leave every room I enter, you’re mean to me,” you listed off, “you made it clear you didn’t want me going on this job with you.”

“Because I knew it would be intolerable to sit in the van with you for hours,” he said, voice heartbreakingly soft.

“See? You hate me,” you replied.

“No.” His eyes sprang open and there was something there, so close to fear, or panic.

“No?” You had no idea what he was getting at.

“That wasn’t why it would be intolerable. It’s not… I’m not… You’d be sitting so close I could touch you,” he said.

“So?” you asked, not sure what the problem was.

“I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop myself.”

Now you were the one who was confused, eyebrows drawing together. The way he was looking at you was like it hurt to say and that only made it less clear what was going on.

“What?” you asked.

“I want to touch you, all of the time. You’re so…You’re just… It’s… I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he said.

“So why are you always so mean to me?” you asked.

“To remind myself you don’t want me the way I want you,” he replied.

“But what if I did?”

That shut him up. He looked down at you, still so close to him, mouth hanging open. You decided to take matters into your own hands, since he didn’t seem to be getting the message.

Surging up, you caught his lips in a soft kiss. He made a pained noise and you drew back, worried you’d hurt him. His hands pressed into your spine, dragging you closer as he kissed you again, almost like he couldn’t stop himself. His tongue dragged over your bottom lip and you opened yourself up to him.

He didn’t stop you as you climbed onto him, knees falling either side of his hips, straddling him. Your hair fell forward, a curtain between you and the rest of the world. You were quick as you tugged on the tie, pulling it off him, so frustrated by it. His hands had fallen to your hips, squeezing, pushing up past your sweater, seeking out the warmth of your skin.

You lost yourself in him, in his kisses. For such a buttoned up person, he kissed like a man who knew what he was doing. It only made you moan into his mouth, wanting more, wanting him in all the ways you’d never admitted to anyone before. You wanted his hands all over you. You wanted his lips all over you. You wanted him.

“We have to stop,” he mumbled against your lips before kissing you again.

“Uh huh,” you hummed, letting your tongue graze against his.

His answering groan and the tightening of his hands wasn’t indicative that he wanted to stop. He was kissing you like you were the air he breathed. Like you were everything he’d ever wanted.

“Really,” he said as he drew back after indulging for a long moment.

“You don’t want me?” The sting of rejection was like ice over you.

You sat up properly, staring down at him.

“No. What? No. I do. I want you,” he said, panicked as he sat up too, following you, arms curling around your waist to keep you in place in his lap, “but not here. Not like this. Not in some seedy hotel. It should be after I’ve taken you somewhere nice for dinner and shown you that I’m a good guy and that I’ll treat you right. I’m meant to impress you first before this.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” you said.

“Maybe.” His eyes darted away from you.

Reaching up, you cupped his cheek, turning his face back towards you. Your lower lip was caught between your teeth and his eyes landed on it again, darkening, almost smouldering. You lent forward, giving him another lingering kiss.

“I must admit, when I’ve thought about it, it wasn’t quite like this,” you said, “at the very least I expected to be wearing sexy underwear.”

His skin heated, cheeks flushing. Your thumb ran over the warm skin, admiring it. His small whimper was gratifying and the way he was looking at you let you know he wanted to devour you.

“When we’re done with this job, I’m taking you out,” he promised, eyes sweeping down your body.

You let your fingers fall from his face, brushing the vulnerable skin of his neck before you began to slowly unbutton his shirt. He caught your wrist again and you wondered if that was something he enjoyed. If he might want to restrain you.

“What are you doing, love?” he asked, “I thought we were in agreement.”

“You can’t sleep like this. I’m just getting you comfortable,” you murmured.

He released you, letting you unbutton the rest of the shirt, pushing it from his shoulders. His skin was soft against yours, so warm it was almost burning in the cold air of the room. He lay back, pulling you with him. You settled against his body, head reasting on his chest, half on top of him.

“You have no idea how happy I am,” he murmured in the dark.

“I think I do,” you replied.

His lips pressed to the top of your head in a soft kiss before he settled down again. You listened to his heartbeat, slowing as his breathing evened out. Closing your eyes, you let yourself relax against him, much warmer than before.

And if you returned to the lab the next day with a bounce in your step, then you didn’t feel any need to explain yourself to Winston when you passed over the artefact.

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hey Bird Boy!

I promised I’d write didn’t I? I’m missing you already, which is kinda stupid and cheesy, but true! There aren’t any other kids around now the holidays are over, so it’s just old people and super outdoorsy people who walk really fast with weird sticks and stuff, lame! Daddy lent me his crappy polaroid he uses for work so I can send you pictures and stuff so at least I’ve got something to do, they won’t be as good as yours but it’s better than nothing.

I tried to get a good picture but it’s hard to hold this huge thing with one hand and this is the best I could do but my teeth are totally starting to grow back so maybe I won’t look so dumb soon.. you can’t really see em but I can feel em poking through!!! It kinda hurts but I suppose we only have to grow em once so it’s not so bad. Growing teeth as a baby doesn’t count cos you can’t remember it.. how many teeth does your little sister have?!

I’m super looking forward to getting to know you properly since I can ask you stuff now! I’ll try n remember to ask you things instead of talking about myself the whole-time cos that’d be annoying to reply to, wouldn’t it?

By the way.. I took a bunch of pictures of my dad until I caught him laughing just to show you that he can be fun and nice, not always grumpy! He thinks he looks cool with his gold teeth but I think they make him look goofy, like a wannabe pirate haha!! YARRR!

I set Amber free cos I started to feel bad about keeping her cooped up in that tiny plastic box and I don’t think I’d like it if I were her, like how I’m starting to hate this stupid tower! I miss looking at her but I decided to start collecting fancy rocks instead since they’re not alive and don’t have any feelings. Dad digs up stuff for work sometimes so it makes total sense!! He said I’m not allowed to join him for that but we can do it on our own instead.. he bought me a big pretty one to start my collection, even though it’s kinda like cheating it still counts!

We found a birdwatching book stuffed in the back of the bookshelf looking for this notebook and dad said we should put some food out to see which ones we could spot.. they attacked him whilst he was putting the seeds out though so he said it was a stupid hobby and that he didn’t want to do it anymore. GET READY FOR THIS!!!

Ahahahahaahaaa I almost dropped his camera laughing at him and he took it off me for a couple days but it was totally worth it, please please pleaaaaase keep this picture cos I almost didn’t wanna send it to you so I could laugh at it forever and ever hahahaha!!!!

Oh, and I told daddy to take some pictures of me whilst I wasn’t looking like you do cos I thought it’d be neat, but I forgot I asked him to do it and got mad at him cos I was in my pj’s and my hair was all crazy.. it’s kinda funny I GUESS!! Plus, he said it made us even for me sending you the picture of him with the birds so here you go BUT DON’T KEEP THIS ONE!!

I got carried away and forgot to ask you stuff so here’s a list!

How old are you?

When’s your birthday?

Do you have any pets?!

What’s your favourite food?

Do you have all your big teeth yet? (it totally looked like it but you never know!!)

I was gonna think of more stuff to ask you and now the back of this page looks really empty but my brain farted and I really wanna send you this so you can send one back! I’ll think of more I promise!! I’m looking forward to “talking” to you so I guess you can write about whatever you want.. and I wanna see your house!! I bet your pictures will be way better than mine!

Yours excitedly, Alex :]

[chelseeebe]

‘til the world caves in: something in the orange

mdni 18+. smut. exfamous!steve x female reader. zombie apocalypse au! mentions of guns and violence throughout. no use of y/n!

a/n: this is my new iteration of the apocalypse au! i dabbled with it before but actually rlly like this one, matter of fact, most of the chapters are written already lmfao:) the famous part rlly is just there for this oneee specific scene i had in mind for a later part but it’s something different i guess

nobody cares who you are in the apocalypse. well, maybe except for you.

life before the outbreak had been weird enough for steve, his band had just started their rise to fame when all this shit went down.

it wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be at 19 but money and fame weren’t anything he was gonna say no to.

and then news broke that people had started eating each other’s faces and now he was no longer this up and coming star, rather just some guy trying to stay alive with some girl he’d met fleeing new york.

six years was more than enough time for them to become best friends, travelling through various camps and groups of people before they ended up somewhere in the middle of indiana.

steve’s never been here before and he wishes he wasn’t here now.

there’s nothing for miles and now robin’s leg is fucked, he thinks it might be the end.

the buttfuck town of hawkins indiana would be their demise.

they’d collapsed on the fence of some building, too dehydrated and tired to care. accepting a certain death as robin cries softly next to him, their fingers entwined as death awaits.

they were pretty delirious when they were picked up by some group. a tall man with a thick moustache and a lady with a sweet voice, helping them across town to their compound.

he’s not entirely sure what had happened when they’d arrived, he’d been bustled into a room and remembers collapsing on the bed with a pounding in his head before blacking out.

-

turns out he was out for days, waking up in the dark confines of a tiny box room with nothing else around him. admittedly, the lack of robin in his immediate vicinity scared the shit out of him.

all he can remember is that her leg was infected and her head was starting to hurt which was never a good sign.

a small, curly haired lady bursts into the room, startled to see him standing, “oh! you’re awake! great,” she smiles.

“where am i?” he asks, like a petrified child.

“you’re in hawkins,” she nods, “you were in a pretty bad state when we found you.”

nothing had ever felt so befuddling, jolting him back into survival mode as he realises his bag was nowhere to be found.

“where’s robin? we need to.. we have to go,” steve rushes, fearing the worst.

“she’s good, i think she was in the cafeteria.. we can go and get some food if you’d like?” the kind lady offers, pity in her eyes.

he nods, sceptical as he follows her out of the room and through the massive doors. there’s laughter from the other side, amazed at the sight of the light bulbs glowing white. electricity. nothing like the candles and flashlights they’d been using for years.

robin jumps up from the table the second he walks through, hobbling over with a few grunts and groans.

“you’re awake! oh my god steve, i’ve been so worried,” she frets, throwing her arms around his neck, trying to ignore the stares from the strangers in the room.

“you’re okay? i thought..” he exhales, not wanting to finish his sentence. “i don’t know.. fuck,” now robin was here and alive and in his arms, the overwhelming feeling of ten people gawping at him sinks in.

there’s nothing familiar about this place, it’s nothing like the places they’d stayed in, it feels like before.

“come get some food,” robin ushers, placing her hand on his back and very slowly walking to the table, “it’s nice here,” she leans in to whisper, “everyone’s super nice, they even have electricity!” she marvels, helping him to the empty seat.

she pushes her plate towards him, beans and some sort of meat. he hadn’t had a substantial meal in what felt like months, living off of foraged cans and jerky.

the crowd seems to back off at this point, leaving him and robin to eat. to try and digest this place despite feeling like he was in some crazy dream.

“we found some stragglers, out at the old school,” he hears a voice from behind, talking about himself and robin, “they were in pretty bad shape.”

steve doesn’t look around, continuing to eat his portion of robin’s dinner instead.

turns out he didn’t have to, as you arrive at his table, shotgun still strapped to your back and a thick layer of dirt all over your face.

“you the new guys?” you ask, looking between him and robin.

“yeah,” answering for the both of them, “robin,” extending her hand to meet yours.

you shake it, with a small, wary smile before turning your attention to steve, eyes narrowed as if you’re trying to place him.

“i remember you,” smiling with the side of your mouth, sizing him up. “steve harrington,” saying his name with such conviction, “newest member of in motion, weren’t you?”

he’s surprised that anyone would even care to remember him or the shitty boy band he was coerced into, “i mean, i was.. doesn’t really matter now though, right?”

you hum and he’s not sure whether it’s positive or not, “i used to be a fan,” steve couldn’t fathom someone like you ever being a fan of the shitty corporate pop he used to make. “maybe you can perform for us some day.”

it’s the first time in years that anyone has recognised him from before. unsure of how it makes him feel.

-

steve had presumed that he and robin were doing pretty well, they were alive weren’t they?

he’d found out that actually, neither of the two knew a single thing about proper, adequate survival skills and had gotten by with some grace of god.

he could shoot a gun, at least he thought he could. they typically just aimed and shot and hoped for the best rather than all of this.

you kick his feet further apart, barking shoulder width into his ear for the umpteenth time. it’s pretty hard to focus when you’re standing right behind him with your soft lips brushing against his ear every few seconds.

robin takes to it like a duck on water, keeping her arms straight and the gun in line with her eye. how the fuck does she know all of this shit?

steve fires and subsequently misses the makeshift target, cursing under his breath with a nasty side eye to robin who hits it straight in the drawn on face.

“steve,” you warn, walking over to him with a slight frown, “keep it steady, that kick back is no joke.”

he pulls a face, realigning the gun to his eye and tries again.

missing the target entirely this time.

“okay,” you sigh, the feel of your arms wrapping around his startle him for a second before the rest of your body presses against his back.

oh god.

it’d look pretty weird if he popped a boner while on shooting practice, he thinks.

it’s not as if human contact is a thing he encounters regularly, how was his body supposed to know the difference?

your chin rests on his shoulder, peering over at the target, hands coming to sit atop of his sweaty ones as you aim for him.

“that good?” you ask, breath tickling his ear.

it felt good, felt very good actually. your chest flat against his back, his breathing falling into to time with yours.

“ye- yup,” he flutters, almost choking on the words.

steve get it together.

“so go,” you order.

his finger presses the trigger, the bullet flies through the target, straight between the eyes.

“there you go!” you celebrate, the warmth of your body on his disappearing as you come to join him at his side.

he and robin share a look, robin’s smirk was unmistakable, steve knew what she was thinking, somehow he always did.

“go again, just you this time,” nodding with encouragement.

his thoughts are jumbled, preoccupied with the want for you to touch him again. just this time, maybe somewhere more private.

but he does it. the painted on silhouette is hit straight through the forehead, garnering a whoop from robin.

“you’re getting the hang of it,” you smile, fingers brushing over his as you take the gun from his hand. it makes him shiver, electricity pulsing between you. “don’t worry, we can come back out here another day,” sharing a look that lingers just a little too long.

you collect robin’s gun and announce something about lunch but steve can’t focus, still attempting to collect himself from a puddle on the floor.

“man, if you don’t get in there, i’m going to,” robin quips, slapping him quite harshly on the back.

“fuck off,” he hits back, trying to shake the loud, intrusive voice in the background of his mind.

there wasn’t much time for love and relationships while he had to fight the undead. a small part of him wonders if maybe now it’s possible, in here, with you.

okay, he’s definitely getting ahead of himself.

-

you don’t help steve’s delusions when you join him and robin at their table for breakfast, making sure to slide into the seat directly opposite just so he can try not to choke on his food.

“you guys settling in okay?” you ask, not really looking at robin at all, eyes glued to his.

“y-yeah, it’s nice here,” he sputters, trying to focus on the bowl of porridge in front of him.

“good,” you smile, sickeningly sweet.

robin’s foot swiftly connects with his leg, coughing on his mouthful as he returns the favour. he knows what she’s getting at, he’d divulged his fantasies to her a couple nights ago.

they’d been allocated separate rooms but hadn’t dared to separate yet, holing up in steve’s bed as they got used to this place.

you look up again, as if you want to ask something, “i think uh.. a few of the kids found out you were in a band and they wanted to know if you’d sing for them at some point?”

steve narrows his eyes, not forgetting that you’d already revealed yourself as a fan, “they asked?” quirking his brow.

your lips pucker, jabbing at your food in an attempt to hide, “well..” looking up at him through spindly lashes, “maybe not just them.”

he feels this intangible sensation in his chest, a burning that aches his insides.

“okay,” he smiles, managing to keep it down, “i’ll sing for y- them,” hoping no one pulls him on his freudian slip, cheeks burning scarlet.

your eyes light up, the whole world encapsulated within your iris’, a sight he already dreamed of.

he feels like a teenager again, wondering if the pretty girl on the other side of the table liked him back.

-

“ready?” you nod, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

steve’s been anxiously awaiting his first shift on watch, scared about the prospect of accidentally fucking up and someone dying or something like that.

so for his first shift, he’d been graciously paired with you on the back wall. he’s been told there’s never much action there, usually a few stray infected but nothing too serious.

it doesn’t help that you’re in some ridiculously skimpy vest with the tightest pants he’s seen. there’s not a chance in hell that he’ll be able to keep his mind focused.

the pair of you stroll over to the wall, climbing the rusty old tower and relieving argyle and will from their positions.

grateful that you were given the evening shift as the hot july sun is setting and the breeze is beginning to kick in.

you immediately slump into the camp chair, slinging your bag from your back and kicking your heavy boots off, clunking against the metal as they land.

“so.. now we just sit here?” steve asks, cocking a brow at your relaxed disposition.

“yup,” nodding along as you squint up at him. “back wall’s never too exciting, i bet we don’t see a soul.”

“yeah.. okay,” he nods too, taking a seat in the adjacent camp chair, praying for a quiet night.

time ticks on for what must be hours, the courtyard had gone quiet and all he can really hear is your gentle breaths and a cricket somewhere in the long grass.

it must be gone 2am by now and you’d not seen a single thing, not even any infected.

steve can feel your eyes on him, not daring to look over until you start speaking.

“bored yet?”

he shakes his head, he wasn’t. this was pretty exhilarating if he was honest. every time you spoke to him, his heart rate seemed to soar.

“no, no this is nice.”

“the quiet?” you question, tilting your head to the side.

“yeah.. i feel like i haven’t really stopped since we got here.”

there’d been copious amounts of training and the like since he had properly recovered. nancy had shown him how to tie and set up traps. dustin had attempted to explain how you guys had power, though he couldn’t really grasp it.

and you, you had shown him how to shoot and fight and how to use a knife correctly rather than just flailing it around and hoping for the best.

“you’re not a bad watch partner, some of them are so annoying,” rolling your eyes in jest, snickering quietly.

steve smiles, genuinely. he hadn’t really experienced anyone other than robin’s company for a long time and while he loved her to death, it was nice to speak to someone else.

“you’re not too bad yourself,” shying away after his pathetic attempt at flirting.

there had been a fair amount of consideration and a perhaps a little bit of delusion but he had dwelled on it and came to the conclusion that he really liked you.

probably more than he should do at this point.

you pout your lips, considering something before starting, “you know.. there’s something else we could do to pass the time..”

he stares, befuddled for a moment until the glint in your eye makes it all click.

“oh,” is all that comes out of his suddenly very dry mouth.

there’s a flash of hurt and maybe embarrassment on your face, “or not.. i mean- i was just.. forget it,” squeezing your eyes shut as your palm hits your forehead.

“no! god no! i didn’t think you’d want to.. y’know, here..” terrified that he had screwed up his one chance.

not only would he have to leave hawkins, he’d probably have to curl up and die somewhere out of sheer embarrassment and regret.

“i wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t want to,” you shrug, uncurling from your blushing state.

steve almost falls from the rickety chair, “of course i do.. is it a good idea?” motioning over the wall somewhere, “with the watch and stuff..” eager to not disappoint the rest of his new group mates.

“we haven’t seen a thing all night.. we’re not being relieved for another few hours.”

“i don’t.. i don’t think i’ll need a few hours,” hell, ten minutes would be fairly optimistic.

a smirk nudges at your lips, standing from your chair to perch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as you take one last quick peek around.

“you’re sure?” you ask, as if he wasn’t gazing up at you like some pathetic puppy dog right now.

“so sure,” nodding enthusiastically. hesitant to touch you until you smile down at him, egging him on.

“get on the floor,” you instruct, still leering over the metal barriers, “just in case.”

he does as he’s told, sitting back against the wall with a lopsided grin as his heart rate increases tenfold.

it’d been years since he’d had sex. he supposes there was that one girl at the third or fourth camp they were in but she was pretty weird and a little obsessive. it only happened once and then he couldn’t bring himself to do it again.

but you’re smiling now, resting on his thighs and he thinks his heart might give out. there’s no certainty that he’ll even be able to last long enough for you to get any enjoyment from it but he’s willing to try.

a moment passes, eyes locked as you lean down, pressing a gentle yet excited kiss to his lips, it’s more human contact than he’s had in years.

you waste no time, fumbling with the button on his pants, sighing as you pop the button, waiting for him to return the honour.

steve lifts both of your bodies, barely kicking his jeans off before you sit back down, his fingers tingling with pure excitement as they unbutton your pants.

they end up somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes, focusing your attention back on his lips, carelessly connecting your lips.

your hips rock back and forth, sending a deep grumble from his throat to yours as his dick twitches in his boxers. he might as well not even bother to actually have sex, he was about to cum right then and there.

it’s made worse when your middle and index finger slide into the waistband of his boxers, struggling to stay afloat as you tug the material down just under his balls, cock springing up the second it’s freed.

you position your hands on his shoulders, looking down at him with wet lips, the only sounds are the crickets watching this degeneracy.

your hands find their place on his shoulders, holding yourself up while his fist finds his cock, lining himself up with your entrance, heart rate skyrocketing as you gasp above him.

his fingernails graze your skin, leaving indentations in the soft flesh, unable to contain the husky groan that escapes his lips.

your palm slaps over his mouth immediately, eyes wide as your hips rock, “you have to be quiet,” you hush though the smirk tugging at your lips tells him you’re not angry.

steve feels electric, pulsing through his veins with every slight movement you make, garbling into your palm when your pace quickens.

bouncing on his cock, making the entire structure creak and wobble.

he realises now that it’s silent, how obvious the sounds of sex are, skin slapping against skin as you squeak and grunt alongside it.

you’re insane, keeping your hand firmly over his mouth as you use his shoulder for leverage, rolling your hips and squeezing around him.

he’s about ready to cum already, there’s no surprise there. but he’s trying his hardest to hold out, to let you get something from this before he blows his load.

clinging on to your hips for dear life as they roll, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks while he turns to utter mush behind your hand.

“oh shit,” you whine, clit nudging against his pubic bone, louder than he could ever be.

that’s it, hearing you whine sends his stomach lurching, with barely enough time to life your body from his lap before he explodes.

hips stuttering into the air as you watch with bated breath, still covering his mouth as a series of expletives tumble out, muffled and breathless.

steve’s never felt so embarrassed and yet so good all at once, the back of his head thwacking against the metal panel as he floats back to earth.

you rest atop of his thighs, nibbling on the skin of your bottom lip. there’s a silence that makes him want to crawl up the side of the barrier and let infected rip him apart.

he wants to apologise for his premature ejaculation, a little ashamed that he couldn’t prove himself to you but before he can conjure up the appropriate apology, your finger tilts his chin upwards, to meet your eyes.

you stifle it for a minute before bursting into a fit of giggles, “it’s okay.. maybe next time.”

albeit a very vague promise of a next time, steve starts to beam, still catching his breath as you shuffle off of his thighs, pulling your panties on as you lay back on the floor, gesturing for him to join you.

dawn breaks around the two of you, the birds rising to sing their song as you lay on the uncomfortable metal grates next to him.

it’s so serene, a picturesque view peeking from outside the little hut.

this is a feeling steve had thought he may never experience again, content with his life despite the rest of the world crumbling outside of the walls.

it’s something in the orange hue, an aching feeling that he owes to blind optimism. a spark of hope, remnants of a fear to lose anyone else.

to lose you.

your tongue pokes from the side of your lips, sighing softly, “there’s something i have to tell you.”

he turns, watching your face fall. apprehensively awaiting the harsh truth you were about to unleash.

“go on..”

this time you sigh loudly, exhausting the air from your lungs, “my ex.. lives here too. he’s out on a run to fort wayne at the moment but, they’re due back anytime now and i just need to pre-warn you that he’ll probably be a bit of an ass when he finds out.”

relief washes through his body. was that it?

crazy psycho exes weren’t something new to steve, albeit a long time since he’s had to even think about anything like that, but he doesn’t care.

“oh my god,” he exhales, “you scared me.. i thought you were ‘bout to say something crazy,” chuckling at his preemptive fear.

you whack his arm, “i’m being serious,” turning your head to glare at him, “he’s not.. the nicest person and he definitely won’t be nice about this.”

“what’s wrong with him?” steve asks, genuinely. they’d crossed paths with a lot of fucked up people in the six years since this had started but he had never believed that anyone truly bad could live somewhere as nice as this.

those places always seemed to crumble, he’d seen it enough times to know. people had taken the apocalypse as a means to become awful people, dictating the lives of everyone around them as if you weren’t all trying to do one thing.

survive.

you sigh, scrunching your nose, “he and his uncle have been here from the start of it all, helped build this place to what it is now. but his uncle, wayne, left a year back.. went to try and find his brother, eddie’s dad.. and now eddie’s just eternally pissed off about it.”

steve contemplates your words, knowing he’d probably also be incredibly infuriated too. family, real blood family, was a rarity nowadays. most people had lost most, if not all of any semblance of family by now. he was astounded to arrive here and find real family, joyce had her sons, nancy had mike, even lucas had his sister.

“oh.. that’s.. it’s understandable, i guess,” not quite finding the right words.

you nod, biting on the inside of your cheek. you’re holding something back, steve’s not sure what and he’s certainly not going to ask now. unwilling to ruin the moment.

“why’d you guys break up?” considering if he’d like to get in the middle of some complicated, messy situation.

for you? definitely.

“i dunno.. he was just so angry, he let it consume him,” a certain twinge of sadness to your tone.

“and he took it out on you?”

you scoff a little, “me and everyone else.. look, does it help if i say that he probably won’t shoot you?”

steve hums, “not really.”

that does it, brings your smile back as you crack up shaking hysterically as you turn back to the sky.

“i still think you should sing for us all,” changing the subject completely.

steve groans, wiping the layer of sweat from his forehead. before all this, he would’ve said that he preferred summer but now that there were corpses roaming the streets, he definitely favoured winter. that stench is something he’ll never forget, rotting flesh and hot july sun were not a good mix.

“didn’t i already agree to sing for the kids?” he teases.

you’re interrupted from any further begging as nancy’s voice rings out from below, “hey guys? you there?” worry embedded into her voice.

“shit,” you hiss, shooting up as you grab your pants. “sorry.. sorry,” apologising for your lack of clothing and the accidental fright you’d given them.

“oh wow okay,” nancy bites from down below, laughing her head off, jonathan covers his eyes to give you a little privacy as you pull your jeans on, “how’d i know that you two were gonna fuck this up?”

“yeah yeah, shut up,” you rush, cheeks burning as you jump into your clothes.

steve shuffles over sliding his pants back on as he turns beetroot red, not only was this his first shift, it was also the first time he was showing everyone that he was a capable person to keep around. he’s not so sure they’ll agree now.

nancy and jonathan climb up the ladder, a bemused expression shared across their faces, “quiet night?” nancy asks, cocking her head to the side.

“something like that,” shrugging off her quick remarks as you grab your backpack and shove steve’s into his chest.

the two stand there gawping as steve flushes, stepping into his sneakers and attempts to hurriedly brush his hair into place. he wants to be embarrassed, really, but he’s still riding the high of you even kissing him.

“see anything interesting?” nancy bites, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“nope.”

“mhm i bet,” she smirks, her lips pursed as you shuffle past her, ignoring the smug look on her face as you climb down the ladder.

steve gives them both a little wave, still trying to hide his reddened cheeks as he follows you down from the perch.

you’re waiting for him at the bottom, tugging him away as the pair watch from above. it takes everything in him not to turn around and smile.

“y’wanna shower?” you ask, breaking the silence as you enter the building.

he damn near jumps into the air, clicking his heels together, suppressing his excitement with a simple nod, bounding along behind as you pull him along the corridor.

he’d take any shift if it meant ending up with you.

[fantasticallyfruity4]

You know how people have started telling their kids “if you get lost go find a goth/punk person” bc (rightfully so) like this wild cultural shift has led to us being seen as safe, trustworthy responsible ppl?

Okay

Well

It got me thinking about punk Steve (again. Of corse) and this being a single dad! Eddie steddie meet cute.

I don’t know what’s funnier. Eddie telling little Max and Dustin that if they get lost they should look for someone who looks like him/his friends, someone goth/punk/metal. Or his kids doing it on their own volition. Bc the housewives with their little strollers always give their dad dirty looks and mean sneers in the grocery store but the people who look like their dad and his friends are always nice to him.

However it goes, one day Steve’s at the super market and he feels a small hand tug on the bottom of his battle jacket and a small voice say “excuse me mister?”

And he looks down and this little pippy long stockings kid is looking up at him with a wobbly lip and tears in her eyes and he’s like instantly on alarm and panicked.

“Hey friend, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Where’s your mom?”

“I got lost and I can’t find my daddy and my brother”

“Hey, that’s okay, we’ll find them together. Insta gonna be okay. What do they look like?”

“Uuuh. My daddy looks like you. But with more hair”. And Steve snorts a laugh because yup, that makes sense. Usually parents tell their kids to stay a million miles away from him at all times. Corse this kid is a punks baby. “What’s your bother look like? He got hair like you? What’s his name?”

“Dustin. He’s got brown hair and a big dumb hat”.

Steve snorts. “Think your funny?”

And the little girl giggles. Cool. Good. Mission accomplished.

“So we’re looking for dad and Dustin. Dustin’s got a big dumb hat and dads wearing a jacket like me, yeah?” And she nods. Cool. Okay that’s easy to find. “And what’s your name?” “I’m max”. “That’s a cool name max. I’m steve”

And so Steve and the little girl make a couple laps around the grocery store calling out for Dustin, and finally, finally, they hear panting and squeaking rubber and “max! Oh my god max! You scared the crap out of me!” And this- oh. This gorgeous metal head is running up to the girl and pulling her into his arms, mumbling a string of “don’t scare me like that again” and “I’m sorry baby I’m so sorry baby” and “I was worried sick”.

Sure enough there’s a little kid, bout the same height as max in a big dumb hat next to him.

Metal head dilf finally puts max down whose now hugging dustin who looks just as distraught at their dad was, and the metal head finally takes Steve in.

A glint catches in his eyes.

“You find this nice man to help you?” He asks. And she nods.

“Oh man, thank you so much I’m so sorry for the trouble” he apologizes. Steve just chuckles. “Hey it’s okay, I’m just glad we found you guys. Was getting worried for a few there. I’m Steve” Eddie takes the hand Steve extended. “I’m Eddie, I swear to god I don’t usually loose my kids” and steve laughs. “Hey, it happens to everyone, don’t sweat it. She’s okay, you’re okay, everything’s alright, yeah?”

“I still feel so horrible for the trouble. Is there anything I can do? Please let me atleats buy you a coffee”

Steve looks at his watch. He wishes he could. “I’ve gotta get to work, im really sorry, im already cutting it close since, you know” “oh, oh my god im so so sorry”

Listen. Listen. Steve’s no saint. And there is clearly a lack of a wedding band on this guys hand and 99% of the time if a kid is at a grocery store it’s with their mom. And some of those patches-

Steve’s gotta try.

“Hey, I really have to jet but um, here’s my number. Make good on that coffee some other time?”

“Yeah, yeah absolutely! Absolutely. Thank you, so much again. You’re a lifesaver Steve” Eddie smiles taking the small paper Steve just wrote his number on. (A cocktail napkin from a gay club in indie he just happened to have in his pocket, a god ordained way of making sure they were both on the same page.

[ashlynredonovitch]

Secrets In The Street

Warnings: none

Prompt: “basically y/n is a poor girl on the streets and pickpockets/shoplifts to survive, and she does that to willy but he’s super kind to her instead of telling the police on her. Then they fall in love.” - @riordanness (THANK YOU!)

“Come back here you!” A woman’s voice yelled from behind, as you sprint down an alley, a bright, crisp apple in hand from her cart.

You weren’t a runner, not in the slightest, so being chased by a woman for having an apple -well, stealing an apple- wasn’t on your list of things to today. You couldn’t help it, you were hungry. The woman wasn’t even around, you had no clue how she saw you.

You hear the woman groan from behind and turn around just in time to see her give up and walk away. Who knows some other person on the streets could’ve stolen more of her produce.

“Oh well, at least it’s something,” you muttered as you trailed along the darkening alley, holding it carefully so you can keep it safe for later. Walking in the direction towards the bench you spent most nights.

It was obviously nothing special, but no one dared to take your bench. You had a raggedy blanket that you stole from someone a while ago. A little bag with a few things of clothes you found that others had gotten rid of, and that was it.

You had heard of Mrs. Scrubitt's boardinghouse when you first arrived, but initially said no when Bleacher had came up to you. He came to your bench many times, and he eventually stopped insisting after many denials. After everything you had heard through the chain of the Galeries Gourmet, you were glad you hadn’t taken his offer though. At least there was a chance of something out here, better than being stuck in a laundry house for twenty-something years.

Nothing new ever happened in the Gourmet, the same Chocolate Cartel shooing everyone away, you had heard of one man getting through though. Willy Wonka, you had heard of his name. Apparently some magic chocolates? Even though the idea seems preposterous, you were intrigued. You, however, had heard from the gossip that his looks had caught the attention of many along the streets too. So, it apparently wasn’t only the chocolate that had gotten people interested.

Carefully hiding your apple, you started your walk towards the way of the Gourmet, wanting to investigate this new Wonka chocolate yourself.

“It’s certainly grand,” you say, as you walk into the store with the velvety magenta curtains, with a chocolate-looking tree as the centerpiece of the store, “I’m impressed.”

“Hi, I’ve never seen you around here,” a man with a can walked up to you, a top hat on his head, wearing a pleasant smile on his face.

“My name is y/n, y/n l/n, I don’t hang around the Galerie Gourmet much, not really my place of adventure.” You muttered as you look at all of the hanging candy around you, children brushing past you, trying to reach for different sweets.

The man nods his head, as he takes in your appearance, “I get it, I lived on a boat for seven years. My name is Willy, Willy Wonka”

You were not expecting that, he lived on a boat for a while, this interesting looking man who owned this place. You tried to send a brief smile in his direction, “so you’re the one who I heard sent the chocolate-trio to jail, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Wonka looked out the windows, to the places where the old chocolate stores resided in the Gourmet, now empty, as he quickly smirked, “well it had to be done, they were breaking the law, it was just a matter of time.”

You chuckled as you saw the man’s face beam towards a woman and small child who was excitingly grabbing a chocolate bar, “I have to go, it was nice meeting you, y/n.” Wonka said as he smoothly strides over to another family to talk to them.

“Likewise,” you whispered as he was already gone. You felt awful, you wanted to try his chocolate, people here have talked ‘it’s the best chocolate I’ve ever tasted’ many have claimed, and now you wanted a bite. How do you steal from someone who seemed so nice?

The trick to being a pickpocket though, is not getting caught, and you’ve had your own share of the situation going both ways. You quickly grab a little wrapped chocolate and pretend to exam it, glancing to make sure no one else is watching, before quickly stuffing it in your pocket.

“Hey!” A voice yelled, you turned to see if anyone was there, and was met with a small, orange man? You had never seen anyone, if it was a human at all, like it.

“Lofty?” You heard Wonka yell as he came running towards the area your standing in. Bolting quickly, you dodge the running kids and chasing parents, as you try to weave your way to the exit. Just about as you were at the doors, a cane came in front of your middle, stopping your motions rather quickly, “and what do you think you’re doing?” Willy asked, you were close, so close.

“Nothing, I don’t know what that man was talking about, I don’t have anything I promise.” You say as you did a little circle to prove your innocence.

“Why don’t I believe you?” He asked, as an audience formed around you two.

“I don’t know, I didn’t steal anything, Mr. Wonka, I assure you that.” You muttered, wishing everyone would ignore you two, you just wanted to try his chocolate.

“Come with me y/n, we can talk back here.” Wonka guided you towards a room in the back, something that looked like an office of sorts, “I know you took a piece of chocolate.” He sat down in his chair, prompting you to sit down on the one opposite the desk.

You felt defeated, you hadn’t ever actually gotten caught by someone, “I’m sorry.”

Willy quirked his brow as he stared at you across the desk, “so you admit it? Surprised, honestly, I didn’t think you would.”

At that you got upset, “listen I might’ve tried to take chocolate, but I’ve heard everyone talk. People say it’s the best chocolate they’ve ever had. I’ve only had apples or other stolen things to eat for a year and a half. The chocolate cartel knew me well, they would stop me at the door cause they knew I couldn’t pay for it. So do it, call the new chief of police, at least in jail I’ll have a bed.”

Willy stood and put his hands on the desk examining you, transferring his weight, “no.”

“I’m sorry, no?” You were shocked, he caught you stealing and isn’t going to call you in?

“No, there’s something about you. You intrigued me when I first saw you walk in. I’m not going to call the new chief of police. I’m actually going to give you twenty silver sovereigns.” Willy said as he opened the drawer with the money inside of it.

Flabbergasted, shocked, surprised, there weren’t any other words to describe it. You were stealing from him, and now he was giving you money? What kind of man is this? Well…a cute one, but that’s besides the point.

“I can see your shock, my mom raised me well before she passed. If you want to steal a small piece of chocolate, you must be desperate, please take it.” Willy said handing you the sovereigns, a pink flush presenting high upon his cheeks.

“Of all the times to be caught,” you whispered, glancing up in time to seem him removing his coat and hat, “at least it was by someone nice.” A faint blush forming on your cheeks as well.

Willy smiled as he walked around in front of you, “I don’t want you sleeping wherever you are, you can work here, there’s an extra room, we could put a bed in there or something.”

“I can’t believe you’re offering me anything, you could’ve had me arrested.” You told him, examining his brunette curls framing his face for the first time.

“I was taught to help someone in need, and you seem like a good person, you just need a little help. No shame in that, I was caught by Scrubitt and Bleacher when I first arrived. I needed help too. Look at this place, I have more than enough sovereigns to help you out right now.” Willy whispered inching closer to you, as he held out his hand.

Your eyes welled up with tears, no one had been this kind to you in a while, “you have no clue how much this means to me.”

“Well, then you’ll just have to stay here until I know.” Wonka smiled as he leaned in to press his lips to yours.

Let’s just say, you never had to worry about sovereigns or spend another night on that bench ever again.

[reiderwriter]

discard this request if it isnt your style but it might be funny

bdsm and kink culture reader with vanilla spencer. r is being super 🌶 and spencer is not understanding (maybe r teaches him and he gets really into it)

Vanilla Spencer is so fucking funny to me, because given the chance this man could have the most fucked up sexual habits of anyone in the BAU but he also seems like the type of guy who would be like "idk people get murdered with shit like this" you know 😭 anyway, here's the fic, hope you enjoy, anon!

Summary: You want to spice up your bedroom activities with Spencer, but he's just not getting it.

Warnings: BDSM themes, vanilla! Spencer into soft! Dom Spencer, mentions of spanking, some dry humping, dirty talk, daddy kink mentioned. 18+ MINORS DNI

Here's my masterlist and my requests are open!

“Oh, what are you gonna do about it? Gonna spank me?”

“Actually, no study has found physical punishment to have a long-term positive effect, and most studies have found negative effects, with children who undergo physical punishment found to grow up to be more aggressive adults.”

You really weren’t sure what you were expecting from your boyfriend.

So far your sex life together had been pretty vanilla. He was an absolute gentleman, making sure to gain your consent everytime he tried something new. He was soft and sweet, and quite honestly, one of the best you’d had in your life because of how attentive he was to your body language.

But recently, you’d been aching for something a little more interesting, to say the least.

“Oh but I’ve been such a bad little girl.” You try again, hoping that he gets the idea this time.

“You shouldn’t think like that, baby, you know you’re doing a great job at work, and if there’s anything you’re struggling with, we can talk it through, okay?” You want to rip your hair out in frustration.

“No, god, Spencer, I want…” you let out a groan and pick yourself up from your chair, choosing instead to climb into his lap and make it more obvious.

“Do you remember that case we took two weeks back? All the couples had some pretty interesting private lives?” You wrapped your hands around his neck and started grinding down on his lap, hopeful that he’d get the idea.

“The family annihilator that went after couples engaging in the BDSM lifestyle? The one who was so traumatised by the discovery of his parents hobbies that he started murdering couples with families that looked like his own?” He still seemed a little confused but he grabbed your hips, aware of the direction this was heading in, at least.

“Heinous murderer aside, were you not at all intrigued by some of the research we had to do?” You pushed your hips down into his again and again, but now you could feel his reciprocation from beneath his slacks.

“Are you talking about the japanese rope bondage, or the dog leashes, specifically?” Spencer teased you, as his hands started trailing up and down your back.

“Spencer don’t tease….”

“No, I’m really curious, what was it that you wanted me to do first?” Spencer was smirking now, and whilst you were happy he was finally picking up what you were putting down, you weren’t exactly excited to have to voice your needs.

“I want you to….I want you to, ummm…..” Your mind was going blank now, because one of Spencer’s hands was now under your skirt drawing small circles, moving closer and closer to your centre.

“Oh that's right, you wanted me to spank you, right baby?” You couldn’t hold back the moan as you felt him finally touch you where you needed him.

“Oh, you like that idea, do you? Want me to throw you over my lap and ruin your nice little ass until you can barely sit.” You were grinding desperately into his fingers now, wishing that he’d make the final move and push your panties aside.

“Use your voice, baby, you know we can’t go any further unless I hear you say what you want.”

“Fuck, fuck, touch me, fucking touch me now.”

“How about we try saying that a little bit nicer this time?” He makes to move his hand away and you whimper - you actually fucking whimper - at the loss of contact, obviously enjoying this a little bit more than you thought you were.

So you partially blamed your unconscious need for him on the next set of words to escape your mouth.

“Fuck me, daddy.”

His hands stilled completely and your eyes shot open, immediatley looking into his darkened ones.

“What did you just call me?” You felt his hips shift under yours and knew you finally fully had him.

“I called you daddy.” You whispered, your lips moving closer and closer to his, practically begging for some more attention.

Instead, he pushed you off him, and you fell unceremoniously onto the floor while he stood and straightened his clothes.

“I want you on the bed, ass up and legs spread for me. What kind of daddy would I be if I denied my little girl, right?” he smirked down at you.

It was going to be a fun night.

[tvgals]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ VALLEY GIRL !

— a new spider-person joins the group, pink, a little ditzy, and from the west coast 80’s .

miles and the rest of the group watched as you trailed behind miguel, apparently talking his ear off by the face he was making. they’d never seen you before, or heard what you sounded like but they were curious. before they knew it, you and miguel were right in front of them, where they could get a good look at you. your nails were done in french tips, you weren’t in a spider suit but rather a white cami with a blue tennis skirt on. “so i’m like, “totally!” because who would pass up on a deal like that? y’know?” the way you talked had a certain gist to it, something none of the current spider people in front of you had heard before. miguel puts his hand up in front of your face to shut you up, silently telling you to stop talking. you close your mouth with a smile on your face, waving to the group.

“this is y/n. y/n, say hi.” miguel says. you perk up and wave. “she’s been california’s spiderman for about…what was it?” miguel asks rhetorically, you taking that as in invite to chime in. “nine months! of course it’s like gag me with a spoon when i have to do all this work, but it’s, like, so worth it!” you say, practically talking with your hands and not your mouth. “yeah, yeah.” miguel says, waving you off. miguel walks off with a “be nice!” and that was the end of it. hobie, miles, gwen, and pavitr all turn to you expectantly.

“okay, so hi! i’m y/n, and you, like, heard him i’m from california! it’s super super nice over there, i wish i could take you guys sometime!” you start your rant, seeing hobie let out a little laugh. you turn to him with a sweet smile on your face. “what’s so funny?” hobie looks at you with a smirk. “‘s jus’ the way ya’ speak.” miles put his hands up in defense, seeing you quirk your head to the side in confusion.

“he doesn’t mean it in a bad way! we’ve just, never met someone like you.” miles explained, gwen and pavitr laughing at his nervousness. “oh! makes so much sense. so what’s you guys’ names?” you ask, waiting on a response. they go through and say all their names proudly, waiting on you to say something else. “so do you guys, like, not talk? like you haven’t said anything! i’m so confused!” you say, eyes brows furrowed and curls bouncing. “no no no, we just, don’t know what to say.” pavitr admits, his hand on the back of his neck. “oh i get it! just a little, like, scared? well not scared but like-“

“you talk a lot.” gwen cuts you off. you purse your lips together and look around, letting out a nervous laugh. you’ve been told you talk a lot before and that some people found you annoying but you couldn’t help it! you let out a little ‘oh’ and walk off, saying your goodbyes. you heard small protests for you to come back and asking gwen why she would say that. you make it to hq bathrooms — asking fellow spider people where to find it, and you sit down on the toilet seat, your head in your hands. you thought people here would be more welcoming. instead — they looked at you like you were a freak of nature. you heard the bathroom door open and you immediately grabbed some tissue and blew your nose, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. you came out the bathroom to see gwen staring at her feet. you looked at her, waiting for her to say something.

“look, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to be so rude. i’ve just never talked with someone like you and i didn’t know how to react. im so sorry.” gwen apologized. you looked at her through bleary eyes and hug her, gwen hesitated before hugging you back. “it’s, like, totally okay. don’t be sorry!” you tell her, feeling her hug you back. the two of your separate and walk out the bathroom, talking about whatever. once you two make it back to the group, everyone cheered. hobie the most. “she’s finally back!” he chuckled. you were sure to feel accepted and appreciated from now on.

TAGLIST ;— @looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly @chinaza444 @baboon-milk333 @marcelineormars @mxspiderman2099 @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @planetspiderzz @chinieh @tourbug @anikaluv @mainvamp @strawberryshortcake143 @spectr3inl0ve @anitatvd @yuckyygutz @janaeby

[juliusxxxxxx]

How to start your own cult

*this is more or less a crack fic

*au where Scar is trying to use Grian’s watcher power to start a cult

*2000+ words

*probably not a one-shot

Knock knock.

No one’s answering.

Knock knock.

This time Scar banged on the door.

No one’s answering.

“Excuse me?” Said Xelqua. Their face was obscured under the shadow of their ominous purple robe, appearing as a pitch-black void. “What—are you doing?”

“What are WE doing!” Scar corrected the being, then reached forward to pull on their hood. “Take it off. You’re going to make ‘em scared.”

“No! How dare you—” Xelqua clasped tightly onto the inexplicable fabric. It felt cold to the touch and almost weightless in Scar’s hand. “There’s a sacred ritual that needs to be done before we can reveal our faces to mortals—you can't do it right after you just manifested me!”

“You’re here to fulfill my wish, right?”

“Yes…unfortunately! Stop it, mortal!”

But the deed had already been done. After the shadow was lifted, there was a face.

It's just a typical face, belonging to a person who appeared to be male, with blonde hair, black eyes, and some light freckles. Their eyes didn't seem to have pupils. Just black as ink.

“Oh…that’s what you look like.” Scar rested his hand. “I thought you were going to look way cooler. Like a cyclone or something.”

Xelqua rolled their eyes. Two eyes, how disappointing. Scar couldn't help himself but sighed.

“Now, can you tell me why we are here, mortal?” They surveyed the dreadfully dull middle-class neighborhood, under the bright midday sun. All nice houses, with neatly manicured front yards. “You dragged me here without even telling me what your wish was. It is extremely rude, in case you don't know it already.”

“My wish?” Scar puffed out his chest, wearing a bright smile on his face. “I want to start a cult.”

“…What?”

They looked at Scar with clear disgust on their normal-looking face.

“Yeah. Since I had a desire strong enough to summon a literal god, I did my research and…volià, here you are!”

He put his arm around the being's shoulders. There were many things he chose not to mention in the explanation he gave, including the graphic description of too many fresh eyeballs and organs that grossed him out. But it was all worth it in the end, right at the moment this Watcher emerged in the center of the wired rectangle he had made. It was drawn with blood, of course.

Xelqua gave him an unimpressed look.

“You seem to have some doubts,” Scar gave them a tight squeeze. “Alright, picture this: a bright, luxurious convention hall with thousands and thousands of people gathering. I am the super duper charismatic orator, preaching about fighting evil and injustice in the world with the power of true happiness. Someone shouted in the crowd, ‘Scar, how are you going to convince me, a stubborn moron who’s never been scammed in my entire life because I’m so lame and boring?’”

“And?”

“That’s when you come in, and strike ‘em with the power of thunder! Everyone trembles and kneels, offering me their life savings out of their pure, heartfelt faith.”

Xelqua stuck their tongue out.

“Alright, I’m leaving.” They brushed off his arm. “Have fun with your scam. I don't want to be a part of it.”

“No, Xelqua—but my wish!”

“I don't even want your soul anymore. It’s too…morbid for my liking.”

“Please! You haven't even heard of the amazing books I’ve been planning—”

Before he could finish his wailing, the door in front of them suddenly swung open.

“Uh…hello?”

A woman held the door, looking bewildered at the pair.

“Why, hello!”

Scar pulled the being back to the porch and put on his best expression, whether they liked it or not.

“We don't need anything—”

“No, no. We’re not salesmen. Far from them, actually.” He rummaged through his blazer and found a name card, which he handed to the housewife. He was fully prepared for this moment. He had been preparing this day for quite some time, and he was determined not to let it end in vain. “Here, take my card. The first one is for free.”

“Uh…Church of the True Happyness…of the Third Watcher?” She frowned, trying to read the wordy name. “Is this a new religion or something? Why is the ‘happiness’ spelled wrong? And why are there two ‘of’? ”

“I’m not with this lunatic—”

“Yes! A new religion. For true happiness. Just ignore my spelling mistake, please.”

Scar cut them off.

“The two ‘of’ thing is trendy. Just look around the other popular cul—churches, like the one started with an M.” He then reached both of his hands toward the housewife and shook with her eagerly. “Me and this—this—” He quickly lowered his voice and whispered to this extraterrestrial being, “what’s your pronouns?”

“I—I—he him?” The being stuttered.

“This handsome young man,” Scar patted on his back and declared, “are here to help.”

“Help?”

“Uh-huh. The lady who lives down the street mentioned that you have a faulty vacuum cleaner you got from your MLM just weeks ago. How unfortunate.”

“My MLM? Excuse you! What are you talking about? My business is legit—”

“Can I take a look at it?”

He pulled Xelqua toward the doorway and squeezed past the woman.

“This is private property! You can't just come in like this!” She frantically followed them into her own house. “Get out before I call the police!”

Scar began opening each closet in the house, ignoring her warning. It didn't take him long to find the broken house appliance in question, lying lifelessly in the dust.

“Here it is! You are a big beauty.” He pulled it out from the closet and wiped it clean haphazardly. “Xelqua?”

“Wha—you are out of your mind!” Xelqua turned towards the approaching woman and then turned back to face him. “We have to leave! I don't want to deal with your mortals’ cops—they’re notorious, even in my dimension!”

“Come on—” Scar nagged. “You’re here to fulfill my wish, right? Then consider this to be it. Fix this vacuum cleaner then consider we even.”

“…Are you serious right now?” Xelqua dropped his jaw. “You’re going to waste your one and only wish…on this?”

“I don't see any reason why not, since you’re going to leave me anyways.” He said with arms crossed. “Just do it for me.”

“And you’ll let me go?”

The being widened his pupil-less eyes. It was even more eerie than usual.

“Yeah. You are one vacuum cleaner away from freedom.”

“Get out of my house! This is the final warning!”

The woman yelled in fury, rightfully so.

“You came at the right time, ma’am.” Scar turned toward her, putting on his smile again. “We just fixed it. Can you plug it in for me?”

“…Heh?”

She halted.

“Try it out. If it doesn't work right away then we’ll leave immediately, am I right?” He gave the being a nudge.

“…Yes.”

Xelqua answered unwillingly.

The housewife knelt down to plug in the vacuum cleaner, grumbling about how absurd everything was. The moment it was turned on, a spark of purple light emitted from its indicator.

It worked.

“Phew—that was close.” Scar wiped the nonexistent sweat from his forehead. He should have just lost his soul a second ago, yet he didn't feel anything. Well, maybe he really was the chosen one who didn't have a soul to begin with.

“It…it worked?” She kept pressing different buttons on the vacuum cleaner, and they all certainly performed their functions. “How—how did you do that? My hubby can't do anything about it!”

“By the power of true happiness and the third Watcher, of course. By the way, the ‘happyness’ is actually spelled with an ‘y’, I just decided it. It’s better for trademark legalization anyway.”

Then, he grabbed Xelqua’s robe as the being tried to dematerialize and slip away from reality. A small part of his body had gone transparent already.

“What more do you want?” Xelqua protested, trying to get rid of him. “I’m leaving.”

“Give me a second,” Scar whispered to him and called the woman, still in awe, admiring her newly reborned cleaner. “Could you please help me with something? As a repayment for our service?”

“Uh…I really don't want to pay you. You seem like a scammer.”

“No—not money, yet.” He shook his head. He was rather frustrated that she would think so lowly of him, but he decided to let it pass. “Do you have the business card I just gave you?”

“…Yes?”

She began searching for it as she was instructed.

“There’s a line in the back. Can you read it out loud?”

She turned it around and started laughing immediately. “How am I supposed to read this? This is gibberish.”

“Well—I should know it beforehand…” Scar took a deep sigh and scratched his neck. Guess normal people without any knowledge would definitely not be able to read it, but he had no one to test it out for him yet. “Just repeat after me, then.”

He cleared his throat and started reciting.

“Mggoka ya orr'e.”

“Mgg…oka…ya orr’e.”

The being called Xelqua let out a short gasp as soon as the words left her mouth.

“What are you doing, mortal?”

“Ng ya bthnk.”

Scar ignored him but continued the chant.

“Ng ya b…thnk.”

She was trying her best to speak the obscure language that had been long lost in this mortal land. As each forbidden word was spoken, defying all laws of nature, the being trembled by the power of a divine offering.

“—Xelqua.”

“Xelqua…?”

Right after she finished the chant, the entire room was momentarily illuminated by a cold, purple glow. It happened so quickly, too quick for her to even realize it was emanating from herself.

“Thank you.”

Scar bowed to her, then walked decisively towards the doorway without looking back.

A few moments later, he heard another set of footsteps approaching him.

“How do you know these words?” The being known as Xelqua called as soon as they stepped out of the house.

“I did my research,” he simply said. “I know you’d follow me.”

“Of course I will…you are despicable.”

Xelqua uttered, catching up to him and walking alongside him.

“You sacrificed her soul to me for a…vacuum cleaner?”

“Yeah, I guess?”

Scar raised his shoulders.

“One more soul for you to chew on in the Void. I bet mine tastes awful so—I did you a favor?”

“I don't chew on souls! What do you think I am?”

“But that’s what all you want, am I right?”

Xelqua’s gaze locked on him for a while.

He couldn't read the emotions behind those eyes; it was as if he was staring into the Void itself. They reminded him of the legends he had learned from those ancient books about how the Watcher’s eyes can see through a person's very true self. A self. He often wondered if he even possessed one of his own.

But then, the Watcher laughed.

“What are you trying to do, mortal?”

Perhaps he actually had one after all.

“I want to start a cult!” Said Scar. “I said it from the very beginning. I'm true to my words—well, sometimes.”

“So that is your plan.” Xelqua shook his head. “I get some free souls so that you can start your dream cult.”

“You’re a smart god.” He reached out a hand toward the being. “How’s the deal?

“Sounds fine to me.” Xelqua shook it. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I know. Doing the world a favor.” Scar released the being’s hand immediately. “Man, I can't wait!”

He didn't appreciate the being's lack of body temperature. He preferred interacting with real humans, especially someone who is willing to accompany him to a vibrant and dramatic apocalypse. Hopefully, cats and trees will be part of the experience.

“I’m thinking—I’m thinking we should go to a college campus next. Those students are so young and impressionable…and stupid.” He started marching down the street in victory, while the being followed him close behind. “Everyone is so anxious about their futures and—whatever the kids are worrying about nowadays. It’s perfect! You can give them some good grades or the body type of an Instagram model—or drugs, I don't care, then they will be your good little lambs.”

“Why do you hate the mortals so much, then?” After listening to his rambling in silence, the being asked.

“I don't?” Scar stopped sharply, turning toward him. “I love humanity! They are so great. So bright. So wishful and always so creative. I love them. Oh, how can I ever hate them!”

“Then why are you doing this, willing to condemn their souls for all of eternity?”

“For the money, I guess.”

“You can simply wish for it,” Xelqua said, slightly confused. “Many mortals wished for money and I granted them more than their wildest dreams.”

“Nah. That’s boring.” Scar waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll be bored to death, and nothing is more scary than that.”

Xelqua looked at him with a tilted head.

“You’re funny.”

“No, tell me I'm charismatic.” Scar continued his walk. “I need to be a cult leader after all.”

[h0tb0x1nnac0ff1n]

Very excited to see your page grow ! 🤍 sorry for the long request 😣😣❕

Can i request a Daryl x fem!reader where the reader’s whole love language was cooking for people before everything went to shit? But because to the outbreak and where they ran from place to place.. she just could never make anything and because lack of ingredients which sort of kills her morale.

However, when they’re staying at Alexandria.. One day she gets one look at their pantry and is strangely super excited and very much productive for the whole afternoon. Which causes confusion among the group because “woah reader is rlly happy, wonder what’s up.” And it’s because she can finally cook the food she loved to make and it’s now time for Daryl to test-taste each and every single dish made all with her love 🤍 .

Just some wholesome fluffiness bc i personally imagine Daryl had like food made by someone for him. He deserves the best as he just eats everything up bc its made with all of our love 🤍🤍🤍

Hello!!! I think this is an amazing idea! Can I just say that I’ve found my people 🤧

Here’s to my first X Reader on here 🥂

Warning: Talks about food/ fluff/ killing walkers (normal TWD stuff)

HOPE YALL ENJOY❤️

You a chef or something’?

For as long as you could remember, you always loved to cook for the people closest to you.

You would make them their favorite foods and the look on their faces when they would take that first bite was enough to make your entire day.

But when everything happened, cooking food that actually tasted good was the least of your concern, breaking your little chef heart. But when you walked into Alexandria for the first time and saw the plethora of food they had, your heart practically sung.

“What type of herbs do you have?”

“Just about everything, basil, thyme, rosemary, paprika. You name it we probably have it.”

“Where did you get all of them?” You said with a little giggle in your throat.

“Out scavenging, this area used to be a huge neighborhood so there was lots of herbs and seasonings that were left behind”

You were so excited for all of the possibilities! You could make so many different foods and you can now FINALLY show off to everyone how much you loved to cook. But there was one person who you especially wanted to impress.

He sat outside of the house cleaning his bow you and Rick’s group had decided to stay in until you could trust these new people.

You walked up to the house with a huge basket of cans, herbs, seasonings, and just whatever you could put into a meal.

“What gotcha all skipping down the street like a child?” the bowman said with his southern twang, an accent you been hearing since you joined the group back at the quarry.

“Just some herbs and seasonings”

“Whatcha gonna use tha for?”

“Uh, cooking?” You said in a questionable tone.

“Do you want me to cook you something?”

“Nah, you don’ gotta do tha. Whatcha gonna make with all of those anyway?”

“I have lots of ideas on what to make, you know it’s been a while since I cooked, maybe you could come inside and taste everything?”

Daryl gave it a second of thought, but in his normal gruff voice “Fine, but you gotta cook what I ask for”

“Okay!”

Ever since you first met Daryl and the quarry you always thought he was a hard working man. Always went out and got food. He was a survivor, a man the world couldn’t take down no matter what it threw to him.

When he saved you after the walkers invaded the camp, you began to not just think he was a cool guy but also to have a sense of respect for him.

“What do you want me to cook you?”

“Well, I got this squirrel that I plan of skinning, be nice to do somethin with it.”

And that got you thinking. “Maybe we could do a stew, or a baked squirrel, or maybe-“ “Woah, calm down ther’ just make a stew that’ll be simple enough all righ’?”

“Okay, a stew. Hmm.” You go inside the house and walk to the kitchen placing down the basket, and you start looking at the seasonings, and vegetables in your basket. You pick out the cucumber, carrots, squash, flour, and eggs “How many squirrels do you have?”

“I got five”

“Okay, I can make a broth from the squirrels and make a minestrone soup”

“The hell is a minestrone soup?” “It’s a soup from Italy, filled with vegetables.”

“Well okay, tell me when it done”

You gave him a big smile and turned around to get started on this soup, you had Daryl skin the squirrels for you, you baked the squirrel and toon of the meat, then placed the meat in a bag and put it in the fridge for the stew. You then got the bones and some meat from the squirrel, put it in a pot filled with garlic, carrots, onions, and you put it to the top of the got with water. Then you let it cook on the stove top for HOURS.

The next day you strained the broth and started on the soup. You chopped up the vegetables and you made the pasta. Using the flour and eggs you used 3 parts flour, and 2 parts egg. You than mixed with your hands and used a rolling pin to flatten it out. Daryl than came up to you to check what you were doing “Why ya just now startin tha?” “I had to make the broth, that took all night.”

“Ya didn’t have to do tha it justa soup I woulda had you make me somethin else if I knew it would take that long.”

“Don’t be an ass Daryl I’m doing this because I care.”

“But why do you care, why do ya care about the way food tastes n all tha, it jus ment for ya to survive.”

“I know, but mankind invented art, and I believe cooking is an art. You deserve some good food after everything you do, just let me show that I care.”

“Fine, just stop being philosophical.”

“That a big word even for you Mr. Dixon.” You joked.

He just scoffed and walked away. ‘Finally some peace to myself’ you thought. You loved that man you do but sometimes he can just get in your nerves. But you know he’s an ass out of love.

One hour later, the soup is finally now just simmering in the pot. You decided it would be a good idea to make a cake because you think Daryl might appreciate it for taking so long to cook the soup.

You ran down to the little ‘Grocery store’ they had down the street and picked up some sugar, butter, and vanilla flavoring.

You devoted to them start on the cake, also making your own butter crème frosting. After two hours, everything was perfect.

You decided to set up the table and piped open a glass of red wine.

“Daryl ! Dinners ready!”

Daryl walked slowly into the house to see you dressed in a beautiful floral summer dress and some fake pearl earrings from the mall back when you were in the quarry.

“Wha’ with all this?” He asked not knowing how to react. All he knew was this beautiful woman whom he adored had made him a meal that smelled sweeter than anything else.

“I thought you would enjoy it, so I decided to get some wine, and the nicest bowl I could find”

“Well, tha’ sweet of ya, wish I dressed up a bit more now.”

Daryl was wearing what he usually does, his t-shirt with his beautiful arms showing, with his angel wing vest and his cargo pants with boots.

“You look just fine Daryl, not like we have many clothes anyway.”

Daryl silently agreed and sat down

You served him the soup with a slice of buttered Italian bread and a glass of wine.

You sat yourself across from him and Daryl instantly started to eat.

“Oh wow-“ Daryl’s face looked as if he had never eaten before.

“This the best soup I ever had”

“Are you messing with me?” Daryl had never really given many compliments to anybody, so him saying so ment a lot.

“I’m serious, the carrots are nice, ion think I ever had squash before so that new.”

“Aw well thank you Daryl”

“Nah thank you, so tell me sunshine” and nickname he had given to you that just made your heart flutter.

“Why is cooking so important to ya?”

“I think it just the feeling that, I can make people happy, that I could make them something and they would enjoy it.”

“Mm” he replied nodding.

After dinner you and Daryl had a slice of the cake you had decided to bake last minute, he also said that the cake was and I quote “Fucking amazing”.

You two decided to hang out and talk while you both cleaned up the kitchen.

“Hey Daryl.”

“Ya what’s up sunshine?”

“Do you think I could cook for you more often? I mean I hope you liked it”

“Woman, I loved your cooking, imma be coming over every nigh’ now.”

You were so happy to hear that, Daryl actually loved your cooking. You felt so happy you couldn’t hold back your smile, making your face a bit red.

Daryl smiled and continued wiping down the table.

After that you decided to go to bed, Daryl had decided to as well, but he slept downstairs still.

You kissed him a goodnight kiss on his cheek and walked up stairs. Thinking about the day, Daryl fell asleep with a smile on his face excited for what tomorrow will bring.

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THANK YOU ALL FOR READING!!!!! So sorry if it shitty but thank you all for reading my first x reader on this app 🤧 ❤️