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#i’m not a louie
acidcrusade · 10 months
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babe wake up i edited more of my louis tomlinson photos
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disasterhimbo · 3 months
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He should NOT be at the club! There’s an airborne pandemic still killing thousands and disabling millions weekly
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moonstruck-stormy · 9 months
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Pikmin 2
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cephalonheadquarters · 8 months
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loowee
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kennahjune · 4 months
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Teen Dad AU
Part 2!!
Starting the tag list with: @mugloversonly @jackiemonroe5512 @thestarslittleking @jonesen4coffee @virginlemontea @blackpanzy @littlebluejane @paintsplatteredandimperfect @astrid-nomically-steddie @maferisa-7 @phantomrose17 @child-of-cthuhlu @sofadofax @thoughtfulbreadpolice @fandomnerd103 @artemisiscursed @croatoan-like-its-hot @silenzioperso @myownworstenemyyy @feral-possums-in-the-bog @mente-sindescanso @mrslectermoriarty @y4r3luv @a-couchpotato @aknelimdoogladania @she-collects-smut
Thursday came in a false sense of security.
Steve woke up to the gentle sun in his face, the breeze of an open window in his hair, and his son’s chubby baby fingers wrapped around his hand.
Steve grinned sleepily at Louie and laughed when baby Louie smiled so wide back at him that his paci fell out.
Steve held Louie close while preparing a small breakfast of eggs and toast, then continued to hold him while making his bottle and setting out a few cheese puffs for him teethe on.
Steve made sure Louie ate first, helping him hold the bottle and then laughing at the pure mess he makes with the cheese puffs. Then Steve himself ate. Clean up was quick enough witch a wet rag and a speedy wipe-down.
Later on, just as Steve was thinking about preparing lunch, the front doors opened.
“Shit. Shit shit shit SHIT.” Steve angrily whispered to himself. Little Louie stared at him from where he was propped on the couch, not a thought behind his wide eyes. Though he obviously knew something was wrong with his dad.
Steve was quick to buckle Louie into his car seat, bundling him up with a blanket and giving him his bear.
“Stephan? Are you in the living room? Come grab our bags, please,” Cynthia Harrington called from down the hall.
There was no getting out of this. No way of getting Louie to the car without his parents seeing. But he’s sure they already knew of the baby, or suspected something. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln were nosy motherfuckers set on ruining Steve’s life.
Steve sighed and looked at Louie. He knelt in front of the car seat and rubbed a hand gently on his son’s face. Louie grabbed his finger and smiled around his paci.
Steve wanted to cry.
“Stephan! Your mother called you so answer her!” Richard Harrington yelled. Steve heard the wind outside pick up aggressively and cursed the mornings sunshine.
“Coming!”
Steve padded into the hallway where his parents were taking off their jackets. Cynthia and Richard were picture-perfect— or they would’ve been. If it weren’t for the pressed line of his mother’s mouth and the hard line of his father’s jaw. Steve knew what was coming before they did.
“Stephan, the bags.” Were his mothers first words to him. Not “Hi, son, how have you been?” Not “Sorry we’ve been gone for nearly 8 months.” Not “How are you feelings after that concussion from last November? We’re terribly sorry we couldn’t stop work to simply call and make sure you were ok.”
No. None of that. Instead he was demanded around like a fucking dog.
“Um. Actually, I had to talk to you both. If you don’t mind—“
“Save it. Take the bags upstairs and meet us in the living room,” Richard stated harshly.
Steve flinched. He hated himself for flinching. But they couldn’t go in the living room. Not while Louie was still in there.
“Actually, dad— it’s very important and I just really need to talk to you guys—“
“Stephan!”
Steve winced at the pitchy tone of his mother.
“Please, I promise— It’ll be worth your time, just— just give a minute, please.” He was begging now. He hated begging.
Richard had grown tired of Steve’s fumbling for words and shoved past him. Steve knocked into the wall with the harshness.
“Stephan, you will listen to your mother and take the bags upstairs and meet us—“
“Dad, wait—“
Richard stopped in the doorway to the living room, whatever insult or command he was going to throw Steve’s way dying on his tongue.
“Stephan. Why, in the Lord’s name, is there a baby’s car seat in my living room?”
His tone was calm. Steve knew better than to think he was actually anything other than furious.
“Thats— that’s what I needed to speak to you about. Please, I—“
Steve should’ve anticipated the slap.
But he didn’t. And his head snapped to the side with the force that left him seeing stars.
Steve didn’t stay long enough to listen to his dad yelling slurs or his mom crying. He simply grabbed Louie’s car seat, picked up his shoes by the door, and left.
.
Steve had been driving for near three hours before he pulled over. He’d circled the entirety of town before finally pulling into a small dirt path by the quarry. Belatedly he realized someone was crying.
He hurried to get out of the car, rounding to the back and sliding into the backseat to sit next to Louie’s car seat. But Louie wasn’t crying, he was sound asleep.
Steve realized he was crying.
He startled when a broken sob tore itself out of his throat. He hurried out of the car and dragged himself the few yards to the edge of the quarry.
He sat down and let the rain pelt him from all angles. His face stung. Steve knew the slap would bruise phenomenally in the morning. It’d probably affect his tips at work.
He swung his feet idly on the edge, belatedly realizing he wasn’t wearing his shoes or even socks for that matter. His heels where starting to bleed from each time he rammed them into the rocks on the edge of the cliff.
Steve doesn’t know how long he sat there in the rain. He snapped back to reality when a particularly loud burst of thunder rumbled in his gut. He went back to the car.
Louie was still sound asleep. Steve figured he himself should most likely sleep as well. He didn’t know when he’d be able to get a place for them, but he’d already been saving up.
He curled up in the back seat next to baby Louie. He didn’t bother with a blanket, and he knew he’d get a cold with his clothes still being wet, but he deemed it fine.
Steve’s sleep was fitful and restless. Filled with slurs and yelling and running from monsters that shouldn’t exist.
.
It was a week before he finally got a place.
Not that long, sure. But it was a week of pure dread and exhaustion and nightmares.
The trailer he was looking at was located near the edge of Forest Hills. It was two bedroom one bathroom and had a small living room (with no ceiling light) and a kitchen (that barely had any wiggle room). But it was his.
He’d been at work when he got the call— as that was where he told the landlord to call. Mason— the line cook— called him back.
“Hey Steve-o! That landlord guys on the phone!”
Steve jumped so hard he nearly spilled the waters he was carrying.
“Be right there, Mace!”
Steve was quick to get the waters to the table 7 and take their orders for the night before he rushed back. He tossed his notepad at Mason and snatched the phone.
“Hi, Mr. Gardison!” he greeted cheerily.
“Stephen, hi. So…”
And Steve was given the trailer.
He was vibrating with excitement by the end of his call. When Steve returned the phone to its holder he was picked up from the ground in a bear hug. He laughed and hugged Mason back.
“You got the place!” Mason cheered.
“I got the place!” Steve laughed.
The rest of his day went swimmingly. He would be able to officially move into the trailer on Friday— which was fine by him. Two days of waiting was nothing.
Steve was given congratulations from a few of the regulars. Mr. Jinkins gave him a good slap on the shoulder while Miss. Gladson pulled him into a hug. They tipped him an extra 5 dollars each before they left.
At the end of his Wednesday shift, Steve gave out hugs to most of his coworkers. Mason, Allya, and his boss Michelle got hugs while George and Gwen got high fives. Steve left feeling light on his feet with a to-go bag for dinner.
Thursday was filled with the lunch rush. Steve had to take his break early to check on baby Louie in the back. He felt bad turning George’s manager office into a daycare but George assured him it was fine.
“Hey honey,” Steve’s cooed at the baby in his arms. “How are you doing, huh love? You’ve been cooped up for so long I know.”
Louie gripped his baby hands into the front of Steve’s apron. He was back in the kitchens today, Allya taking his place up front waitressing.
Steve hopped around and lightly bounced Louie against his chest, humming quietly and gently.
Louie whined and continued to cry.
“I know Louie, I know. You hungry? Hang on baby.”
Steve made sure Louie was fed and burped and laid him done for a nap. He only had an hour of his shift left.
Thursday finished off normally and Steve left with his usual dinner. He drove out to the quarry and parked before sitting in the backseat with Louie to eat.
Eventually he took Louie out of the car and sat with him on the rocky ground of the quarry. Steve held Louie close in his lap, letting the baby play with his hands and fingers and babble about nothing and everything.
Steve occasionally answered with little gums of encouragement, but for the most part he let baby Louie talk to himself. He was lost in thought, daydreaming about the trailer and how they got to move in tomorrow.
Before Steve knew it Louie had fallen asleep and he himself was on the verge. He got them both settled in the backseat once more and allowed himself to drift off.
We’re finally, maybe, getting somewhere lol. Tag list is open to everyone still, feel free to ask for a place!! We’ll get into some of Steve’s school life in the next part hopefully 🤞
Part 3:
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gyroinabirdcage · 1 month
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just found this thing i drew months ago and figured i’d share it here
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bellhuko · 5 months
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okay
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giddlygoat · 9 months
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i have done nothing but draw duck yoai for three days
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also some DONALD bc he lives in my heart forever and advises me to get the fries bc i will need the energy in the coming days etc etc
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gwekkuu · 6 months
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No new autumn piece this year 😔
So let me share some old ones I still like :0
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kitkat-the-muffin · 1 year
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spac3trash · 6 months
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he refuses to get it removed...
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alleycatchitchat · 2 months
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if you think my found family father-son relationship headcanon wasn’t meant to be actual canon, then explain how I can turn the father figure’s name into a dad pun
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pollyanna-nana · 9 months
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“Louie from Pikmin is autistic,” I say into the mic.
The crowd boos. I begin to walk off in shame, when a voice speaks and commands silence from the room.
“She’s right,” they say. I look for the owner of the voice. There in the 3rd row stands: Louie’s adoptive father figure himself, Captain Olimar.
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oddballsducks · 3 months
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Me: I don’t understand a certain section of this fandom’s obsession with Louie Duck torture.
Also Me: [Daydreaming about my Duckverse AU]
Hey, these kids are growing up in the late 1940s/early 1950s,
Why don’t I give him polio?
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writebackatya · 10 months
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Why is this duck so damn stubborn whenever he’s the one causing magic-related problems for his family!?
DuckTales: Silence and Science #1
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pillowmoment · 6 months
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Every day i am thankful for the pikmin 3 Olimar Voyage log videos because i am blessed with pictures like these
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shocked louie frame my beloved
Edit: scared louie is my discord pfp now
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