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wisteria-blooms · 8 months

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sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (1/?) pilot

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

A/N: Pilot chapter of the Charlie Weasley version of 'long hair & tattoos.' Hastily edited before work so I'll fix things up as I go. I hope you'll like it!

CHAPTER 1: When Lucius threatens to bring Goyle over with the intent of courtship, you fight back. Malfoys never lose, right? 1.9k words

CHAPTER 1: 23, STILL CRAZY

Before you knew it, September had fallen over the Malfoy Manor.

Now, what did a September dinner look like at the Malfoy Manor?

It looked like a long dining table engulfed by the even larger room it presided in. It looked like a warm and gorgeous chandelier, embedded with thousands of crystals, that hung overtop the middle of the table. It looked like the rattling of leaves, threatening to redden and the brown, outside in the rolling gardens. It looked like the velvet sun seeping into the windows, casting frightening shadows on the patriarch’s face.

With every second that ticked by, you felt the last of summer slip through your hands. In a few weeks, it would get darker earlier and earlier until you were dining with your family in darkness.

“Genevieve’s wedding really was beautiful,” your mother, Narcissa, remarked for the third time today. And the tenth time this week. But who was counting?

You nodded blithely. Of course, it was beautiful. Anything Malfoy money touched, despite how little thought or meaning was put it in, was stained beautiful. Truly, it was something, watching your eldest cousin, Genevieve, marry on the cliffs overlooking the French Riviera. She wore the most gorgeous dress, and her hair was done to perfection, not a strand out of place.

You were happy for her but you had to wonder: wasn’t your own happiness what mattered the most? When Genevieve was holding Maximillian’s hand, saying vows that were too pure and sweet to come out of her mouth, you were sat alone watching. Your eyes would drift everywhere. First, at Draco, beside you, who had brought Astoria. You watched your two littlest cousins, Charlotte and Clara, holding each other and tearing up at Genevieve’s vows. Then, to your cousin, Claude. Claude was Genevieve’s older brother and was clasping his girlfriend’s hand that was perched on his lap. She was probably a soon-to-be-fiancée after this event. Genevieve’s picturesque romance sparked a fever in everyone, including yourself.

And you trudged on alone the rest of the night, nursing your champagne, embraced by only the sweet sea air.

Everything was perfect from start to end. They had perfect weather (cloudless blue skies and sunshine), the perfect people in attendance, the perfect vows, and the perfect dinner, the perfect wine, and—

As much as you hated to admit it, it was bitter to be alone.

Really freaking bitter.

“You should consider a location for your own wedding, (Y/N),” Narcissa, always the optimist, continued. “These venues book up quite fast. Susan’s daughter has been on the waitlist for her choice venue for a year now.”

“The booking isn’t the hard part,” Draco, your little brother by two years, added. “The hardest part is (Y/N) finding a man that can actually tolerate her.”

“That’s true,” you said in agreement, much to Draco’s chagrin. “I don’t think any man is suitable for my standards.”

“Maybe the men aren’t the problem,” Lucius, your father, said through gritted teeth. You had probably evoked some bad memories of you abandoning the gentlemen he’d tried introducing you to at the country club.

“That’s just it, they are the problem,” you shot back. “Money or status doesn’t better a person make.”

“You won’t be holding onto that belief when you inevitably end up alone,” Lucius stated.

“Father, I may have a solution to (Y/N)’s predicament,” Draco piped up. A devious smile spread across his face. “Dear sister, you remember my friend, Goyle, don’t you?”

All that came to mind when you heard Gregory “Goyle” was a sweaty and stout boy with a forehead bigger than the rest of his face. The size of his noggin clearly housed nothing because the thoughts that came out his mouth were puzzling. And any chance of Goyle nurturing his intelligence or academic pursuits was shot down whenever a pretty girl walked by. At least he had quidditch to fall back on. He was definitely a decent beater by strength, rivalling your best friends, Fred and George Weasley. They often complained to you about his dirty tricks on the field.

“I wish I didn’t,” you lamented.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. “His father and I are acquaintances,” he mused. “He would be a decent choice of a partner.”

Goyle? That was the best your family could come up with for you? How low could they go now?

But still, you looked at your father in bewilderment. “You’re not serious, are you?” When Lucius didn’t answer, you continued. “Kiss any chance of intelligent children in your bloodline goodbye,” you quipped, swirling your wine glass around. “Wasn’t like Draco was going to propagate that trait anyway.”

“I would do a better job than you!” Draco retorted, slamming his own glass down. You smiled a bit; you’d broken him with that remark. “If I recall correctly, dear sister, there were some classes you didn’t fare well in, leading to mother and father having to visit the Headmaster personally.”

You flushed red. It was true, everything he said. It wasn’t your fault that it was just one class you couldn’t do well in, no matter how hard you tried.

“Well, if you spent more time reading than sucking off Pansy’s face in the library, maybe you would’ve graduated with distinction, too.”

“At least someone wanted to date me. Or were you snogging both of the Weasleys when I wasn’t looking?”

“That is enough!” Lucius bellowed. He was loud enough to shut both of you up. “(Y/N), this is despicable conversation and I will not have this at my dinner table.” Of course, this was all your fault. And likely, your father’s head was imploding at the thought of you having relations with a Weasley. Any Weasley.

“Yeah, (Y/N),” Draco whispered. “Don’t be indecent at the table.”

“Shut up,” you whispered back, taking a slow sip of wine to regain composure.

“I will personally extend a dinner invitation to Gregory and his family. We will dine here in a fortnight,” Lucius announced.

“What?” you blurted out. You thought this whole thing was a stupid joke. “For what purposes will you have him here, father?”

“I reckon it’s long overdue that the Malfoys officially make allies with the Goyle family,” Lucius stated. “And I’ve been left with no choice.” He was referring to all the times you’d rejected his friends’ sons.

The look on his face was stern. And for once, you couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.

“If even Genevieve can find a partner to spend her life with, then so can you,” Narcissa cajoled. You would’ve laughed at her veiled insult towards your cousin, but the situation was too dire for humour.

Your father couldn’t possibly want you to romance Goyle. You were envious of Genevieve’s fairytale wedding, but you didn’t want that if Goyle was your betrothed.

You felt acid at the back of your throat. You clenched your jaw. Anger was burned your face, anyone who couldn’t see it would be a fool.

“I won’t have it, father,” you stated coolly. You weren’t going to let Lucius, who never lost at anything, win this one. “If the purpose of the dinner is for me to entertain Goyle.”

The tension in the room was palpable; the atmosphere had taken a complete nosedive. Narcissa and Draco remained completely silent.

“You don’t get to choose everything you want to do in your life, (Y/N),” Lucius gritted through his teeth. “You’ve made a fool of me a million times over because I let you do what you wanted.”

You slumped back in your chair and huffed. Whatever your father wanted, he got. But what if there was a way to circumvent that? The wheels in your head began turning. What if it was improper to have Goyle here in the first place because—

“I’m not sure how my boyfriend would feel about that, honestly,” you said, swirling your wine nonchalantly like you hadn’t told the biggest lie in the world.

And with that, three heads swung around and fixated on you.

“What did you say?” Narcissa asked, her curiosity visible on her face. “I’m not sure I heard correctly.”

“That I have a boyfriend and I’m not sure how he’d feel if he found out my father was trying to set me up with another man,” you responded.

“That’s impossible,” Draco stated. “You just said there was no man suitable for your standards.”

“In general, yes, of course,” you said. “But he’s different.”

“Who is ‘he’?” Draco asked, trying to get you to perjure yourself.

“Why wouldn’t he have come to the wedding?” Narcissa asked. You were lucky that her sudden interest superseded any of Draco’s questions.

“I wasn’t sure how well-received he’d be around such uptight people like Uncle Theo and the rest of our family,” you said. “And he’d would’ve drawn all the attention off Genevieve, which would’ve been disastrous given her constant need for it. Maybe you could meet him in a more intimate setting, like at this dinner father is suggesting we have.”

Lucius’s lip quirked. “And to what—”

“Advantage you’ll have? If you’re looking to better our family name, I assure you he will do a much better job than the Goyles ever could.”

You were so cool despite your frantically-beating heart that you were impressed with yourself. Who knew that deep-down, you could be a stone-cold Malfoy, too? Fred and George surely wouldn’t be impressed with that revelation.

“Fine,” Lucius finally ceded. “Invite him over in a fortnight. But I must warn you, (Y/N), if you do anything to embarrass the family name…”

“I understand, father,” you responded with your hands in the air. You knew the lecture by heart. “I’ll renounce the trust put in my name, and allow Draco inherit it instead.”

“And we’ll invite the Goyles over with the intention of courtship.”

Lucius thought you’d be upset about that, that it was a good enough threat to put you in line. But you didn’t care. You had the wealth of your own savings and the knowledge that Draco would always be your family’s favourite child. If your parents had it their way, Draco would inherit everything and he wouldn’t have to split it with their failure of a daughter. He was brilliant and golden; you were the runt. Empty threats like that meant nothing to you.

“You’re a liar,” whispered Draco from beside you.

“I would never,” you shot back. “Just wait and see.”

“Oh, I’m just aching in anticipation,” he said. “To see how badly you’ll embarrass yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, and adjusted your posture on your seat as the main course, salmon and asparagus, was served by Dobby.

When dinner concluded, you ran up the stairs without a look back. When you were certain you were alone and that every single sound-proofing charm was cast on your room, you frantically opened your drawer. You pulled out a directory and slammed through the pages. Names of old classmates and acquaintances whipped past your vision, but no one seemed to fit what you were looking for: a fake boyfriend to get your parents to sod off for the rest of your life.

You were going to wage another Wizarding War if you asked your male friends who were dating or engaged to other women. And any of the boys you danced off at the country club certainly weren’t going to be on your side.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, slamming the directory shut.

With a heavy sigh, you leaned back again the bed. You would figure this out tomorrow, if Fred and George could carve out some time for you.

>> NEXT CHAPTER

<< CHAPTER DIRECTORY

#charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley fic #bill weasley x reader

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catgirlforeskin · 10 months

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What Aang went through is nothing compared to Charlie Brown. Oh, his people all died, and he’s bald? He has a sick ass head tattoo. Charlie Brown has nothing but his fat hairless head.

#ATLA

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novacorpsrecruit · 4 months

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I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus

Steddie Dad(s) inspired by this

Steve is a single dad of two preschoolers. His two kiddos are well loved by their Auntie Robbie, Auntie Nancy and Uncle Eddie, along with the gaggle of kids — who are no longer kids — that are more than delighted to be babysitters.

Steve does his best to protect his kids from the monsters in the world, hoping to keep them away from the Upside Down and people who were outright mean.

And he strived to keep the magic alive for them.

Every year, he read them The Night Before Christmas and they would watch A Charlie Brown Christmas and Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town. And every year, he took the kids to Melvard’s to meet Santa.

Except this year, the flu bug hit hard.

First Wyatt, his four-year-old, caught the flu from his preschool. Then he gave it to Sarah, his three-year-old sister. Then she gave it to Steve. A series of the flu bug made them miss all three of their chances to meet Santa.

Steve was bummed. The kids were bummed. It was too late to send a letter to Santa, it would never get there in time even if Steve promises the several stamps on the envelope would make it get there faster.

It was Christmas Eve and it seemed impossible to make the kids happy about Santa. Steve was complaining over the phone to Eddie, trying to brainstorm ideas.

“I’ll be by in 30,” Eddie said over the phone. “Don’t tell the kids, it will be a surprise.”

So Steve directed the kids to work on paper snowflakes at the kitchen table while he started on popcorn and hot cocoa, pulling out the Tasmanian devil mug reserved for Eddie for when he comes over. They’ve been dancing around their emotions for years now, only growing stronger since Steve moved back to Hawkins while Sarah was still a babe on his hip. Eddie took well to his uncle duties, Steve wishing he could gain the courage to make a move on Eddie to make him something more than just an uncle. He sees the way Eddie looks at the kids, looks at him. But what if he’s wrong?

Suddenly, the kids were making a ruckus. No longer quietly working on their snowflakes, calling for his attention.

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Look!”

He moved the milk to the back burner, turning off the flame as he went to see what they were hollering about. He entered the dining room, wiping his hands on the little apron around his waist when he felt his heart skip a beat.

The scrawniest Santa was in his yard. A few dark locks of curls peeking out of his Santa hat, the coat jacket sleeve falling to his elbow as he waved at the kids, revealing the bat tattoos on his forearm. If Steve wasn’t already in love with his best friend, he was now.

“Daddy! Santa!” Sarah cheered.

“Can we go see him?” Wyatt asked, already climbing out of his chair.

“Yeah, invite Santa in,” Steve said, helping Sarah out of her chair and onto the ground. “Tell him we’re making hot cocoa. Wyatt! Don’t go outside without shoes!”

He could hear their small feet pitter patter as they ran on the hardwood floor to the front door. “Santa! Santa!”

“Ho ho ho!” Eddie — Santa — cheered. “Is that Wyatt and Sarah Harrington?”

Sarah gasped. “He knew our names,” she whispered. “Santa! Did you get our letter! Daddy mailed it out yesterday!”

“We couldn’t see you,” Wyatt said. “We were sick when you came to town.”

“That’s what I heard!” Santa said, greeting the kids in a hug. He looked up at Steve, standing in the kitchen doorway, and gave a wink. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Santa it’s awfully nice that you were able to visit,” Steve said. “Isn’t it kiddos?”

“Yeah!” Sarah agreed.

“Yeah, ‘specially if you gotta deliver presents tonight,” Wyatt added. There was a brief pause as a thought went though Wyatt’s head. “Did you bring our presents early?”

“Ho ho ho!” Eddie — Santa — laughed. “You have to wait until Christmas Day to get your presents.”

“Kids, why don’t you show Santa your snowflakes and I’ll get us hot cocoa,” Steve suggested. “Santa, do you want hot cocoa?”

“I would love some hot cocoa,” Eddie nearly beamed under the Santa beard. Steve wondered if the beard would get in the way of Eddie drinking or if it would get stained… where the hell did he find a Santa costume in 30 minutes?

The evening was full of excitement. Santa and the kids made several snowflakes, hanging them in the front window by the table. Steve handed out cups of hot cocoa, with a slight protest from Wyatt.

“Daddy, that’s Eddie’s mug,” Wyatt said, as Steve handed the Tasmanian devil mug to Eddie. “Santa can’t use it.”

“I bet Eddie would be okay sharing with Santa,” Steve said. “Especially since this is a special night.”

“Yeah,” Sarah nodded. “Special night.”

“Okay,” Wyatt said. “You’d like Eddie, Santa. Some people think he looks scary, but he’s nice. I bet you he’s on your nice list.”

“Oh, ho ho! I know Eddie well,” Santa said with a smirk. “Years ago before Eddie was friends with your daddy, Eddie was on my naughty list.”

That made Sarah gasp.

“But he’s on my nice list now!” Santa added. “I think your daddy helped straighten him out.”

Steve had to snort at that. Neither of them were what you considered straight. Eddie gave him a knowing look. Steve scooped extra marshmallows into Eddie’s cocoa, just like he likes it.

After Santa read the kids a bedtime story, the kids sat on Santa’s lap whispering what they wanted for Christmas. Steve watched from the other room, hoping that he had whatever they were wishing for underneath the Christmas tree. Wyatt whispered his gift, Eddie nodding with such confidence. Sarah sat on his lap next, a quick whisper and there was a quick flash of emotion across Eddie’s face that Steve couldn’t read. Eddie whispered back to Sarah and she gave a slight pout as she thought it over before nodding.

“Ho ho ho!” Eddie laughed. “We will see. Now off to bed! I have to go deliver presents.”

“Good night Santa!” The kids said, giving a good night hug before going upstairs to their bedroom.

Steve followed them, stopping by Santa to whisper in his ear. “Stay? I’ll be down in 5.”

Santa nodded, waiting in the living room.

Steve followed the kids upstairs, ensuring they brushed their teeth and promising Santa will stop by later tonight to drop off their gifts, but only if they fall asleep.

When Steve came back down, Eddie was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, still in his Santa get-up.

“Hi Santa,” Steve said softly. Eddie smiled.

“Hi Mr. Harrington,” Eddie said. “Some kids you got.”

“Thank you, for this,” Steve said, reaching out, running his hands down the edge of the red jacket, lined with white fabric. “I have to ask. Where did you get a Santa suit on Christmas Eve?”

Eddie’s cheeks blushed. “I — uh — I have to confess,” Eddie half laughed. “Wayne’s Santa.”

“What?” Steve laughed. “Why didn’t you ask Wayne to dress up?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have an excuse to see you,” Eddie said softly. “Sarah’s got a really good Christmas wish.”

Steve sighed, “Please let it be a Baby All Gone. I went to three different stores to find the right one.”

“No,” Eddie said, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist, gently tugging him closer. “She wished Uncle Eddie would kiss her daddy.”

Steve gripped the edge of the Santa jacket a little tighter, as if he let go, Eddie would disappear. A smile broke out on his face. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Eddie nodded, a matching grin across his face. Steve let his hands slip under Eddie’s jacket, holding onto his waist. “You didn’t tell me what you want for Christmas, Mr. Harrington.”

“You,” Steve breathed. “I want you.”

Eddie leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss against Steve’s lips. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

Steve closed the small gap between them with another kiss. “Merry Christmas, Santa.”

A little gasp came from above them, followed by the telltale sound of pitter patter of small feet running back to their beds.

Steve let out a soft laugh, pulling Eddie back into the living room, out of sight from the upstairs railing. He lightly tugged the Santa beard down, exposing Eddie’s slight scruff and the faded scar on his cheek. “Guess we’ll have to find a way to explain that in the morning.”

“We?” Eddie asked, eyebrows raised to his Santa hat. A soft smirk played across his face.

“Stay?” Steve asked. “Unless you have to deliver presents tonight.”

“No,” Eddie said. “I — uh — actually brought the kids’ presents.” He let out a soft laugh. “Wasn’t sure if Santa was supposed to bring them.”

“You’re really something, Eddie Munson,” Steve said, sneaking another gentle kiss. “C’mon, we need to get to bed. I heard Santa’s coming tonight.”

“Oh, is he?” Eddie asked, eyebrow raised. “Well, Merry Christmas to me.”

Steve laughed, pushing Eddie down the hall to his bedroom to find Eddie a change of clothes for the night and a way to hide the Santa suit and another way to thank Eddie for all he’s done tonight.

#Steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #Steddie dads #//myfic

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ofstoriesandstardust · 11 months

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it’s just a tattoo, charlie brown! (p.m.m.)

a/n: this came up in an anon ask months ago (i’ve since lost it) and i need something wholesome in my life. in honor of me seeing tg:m a year ago, have this. this was the inspiration for the tattoo.

summary: The one where Rebel convinces a begrudging Maverick to get matching tattoos.

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | same mistakes-verse

warnings: dialogue heavy, unedited, i think i swore, this was just for fun

word count: 1.3k

You clear your throat, clasping your hands on the table in front of you. Your Dad raises an eyebrow as he glances up at you from his pancakes. “I have a proposition for you.”

"Oh dear.” He mutters, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “What?”

You slouch at his response. “You don’t even know what I was proposing. I could’ve been proposing we take a day trip to Anaheim and go see an Angels game tonight.”

“Are you proposing we go see an Angels game tonight?”

You hesitate. “...No.” You straighten up, shooting him a bright smile. “But it’s a good proposition! I promise.”

He sighs, leaning back into the squishy material of the booth he’s sitting at. “Ho ahead.” He nods his head, gesturing for you to speak.

A grin spreads across your face as you eye him carefully. “What if we got matching tattoos?”

“Absolutely not.” It only takes him a half second to respond and you slouch again.

“Why not?”

He shakes his head, picking his fork up. “I don’t care what stupid things you and Machado get tattooed on your bodies-”

“Oh, they’re not stupid, I promise!” You pick up your phone from the table next to you, pulling up your camera roll. “Look, I was thinking we could get matching Snoopy and Woodstock tattoos.” You slide the phone across the table to him. “April even drew up a cute one of Snoopy and Woodstock in a plane.”

He sighs, sliding the phone back across the table to you. “They are cute. Why don’t you just get a Snoopy and Woodstock tattoo?”

“Because that’s not the point.”

“I’m in my sixties.” He says, mouth full of pancake. “I’ve gone this long without a tattoo.”

“Which is why you should start now. You know, before you get old and gross.”

“You’re not doing yourself any favors.” He says with a pointed look.

“But-”

“I do kind of like the idea of going toAanaheim now. Wonder if we can find tickets the game tonight.”

“Would you at least think about it?”

“No.” He says, pulling out his phone. “We’re not getting matching tattoos. My answer is no.”

“That’s what you said about the dog.” You mutter under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

You huff, turning in your chair to face your boyfriend. “Bradley, I need your opinion on something.”

He nods, pulling his attention way from the Angels game to you. “What’s up honey?”

“Look at this tattoo April drew up for me.”

He huffs out a laugh, taking the phone out of your grasp. “’S cute, honey. You thinking for you?”

You nod. “Yeah, me and Dad.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Mav’s getting a matching tattoo with you?” d says, sitting back down in his seat next to you. He hands you the nachos he’d gotten with the same pointed look he’d given you this morning in the diner. “I told you no.”

“No.” Your Dad says, sitting back down in his seat next to you. He hands you the nachos he’d gotten with the same pointed look he’d given you this morning in the diner. “I told you no.”

“Also what you said about the dog, Mav.” Coyote says from the other side of Bradley. “You don’t have much ground to stand on here.”

“Javy’s got a good point.” Penny comments from the other side of your Dad.

He whips towards her. “Who’s side are you on here?”

She laughs, nudging him as he gives her a grin. As his attention turns back to the game, you grumble.

“I’ll wear you down eventually.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

“Hey Hondo, should my Dad get a matching tattoo with me?”

He chuckles, turning. “Obviously, my vote’s yes.”

“Hondo!” Your Dad calls from further behind you.

“What tattoo are we talking about?”

You pull your phone out, pulling up the sketch April had drawn. “This.”

“Oh wait, that’s not half bad.”

“Thank you-”

“My answer is still no.” Your Dad says, out of breath as he jogs up to you and Hondo.

“You’ll push past Mach 10 but won’t get a tattoo with your only daughter and child.” Hondo says, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” You agree, crossing your arms.

“I have plenty of children. Thirteen of them to be exact.”

You huff.

“Please.” You borderline whine, slumping down on to the couch. “Don’t tell me you haven’t given it any thought.”

You jut out your lip, pouting. Your Dad raises an eyebrow, giving you an unimpressed look. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Only one I’ve got.”

His face doesn’t change, still looking thoroughly unimpressed. “That face hasn’t worked on me since you were seven.”

“You’re a liar, I could get anything I wanted with this face.”

“It’s not happening.”

“Oh, c’mon!”

“Hypothetically,” Your Dad starts, prompting you to raise your head. “If we got these tattoos, where would you want to get them?”

Your fork clatters to the plate.

You dive for your phone across the table, trying to pull up the new sketches April had drawn up for you. “Okay, I ended up hating the original one, so April redrew them. I was think just above the inside of your elbow? So there’s sort of a flat line?” You say, sliding the phone across the table. “I liked this more since Snoopy’s on the top of the doghouse. April drew up a little one with Woodstock for me too.”

He chuckles, looking at the phone. “Okay, I don’t hate this.”

“So you’ll do it?”

He sighs, handing the phone back to you. “I’ll think about it.”

“I can not believe you convinced me of this.” He grumbles, pushing the front door of the tattoo shop.

“Won’t it be so fun? We’re bonding.”

He huffs, shaking his head. “That’s one way to look at it.”

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Mitchell.” April calls as she walks out of the back. Her eyes drift over to you, coming to stand in front of the two of you. “Oh, you’re here too.”

You roll your eyes as your Dad chuckles. “Shut up April.”

“Hi April.” You Dad say warmly. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, I’ve been good. Nice to see you both. You daughter tells me you want to ge thatching tattoos today?”

Your Dad gives a weary sigh as you grin.

“I’ve been told I can’t say no to her.”

“To be fair, Mr. Mitchell, you’ve always been like that.”

“Soooo....” You draw out, watching your Dad carefully. “Do you it hate it?”

He lets out a little laugh. “Honestly, no.” He says with a shake of his head. “If only Ice could see us now. He probably thinks I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, Slider’s impressed you managed to hold out this long.”

“Two months.” He says, holding up his fingers. “I held two months.”

“Yeah, and that’s the longest it’s ever taken me to get what I wanted.”

“This is something permanent. On my body.”

“With all due respect, you took significantly less time to say yes to the dog, Mr. Mitchell.” April comments.

Your Dad sighs, unable to argue with that.

You straighten up in your seat. “Well, I’m thrilled you finally said yes. Now, when people ask me about it, I get to see that I have a matching tattoo with my Dad because we were both pilots. I get tell them how he always read me the Peanuts comics and told me abridged stories growing up. That I’m a pilot because of him and now I get to have a matching tattoo with him that reflects it.”

Your Dad sighs, taking a long look at you as he lets his hands fall to your shoulders.

“Well, if you had just put it that way, I probably would’ve said yes the first time you asked.”

“Oh, I hate you.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #pete maverick mitchell #top gun: maverick fic #top gun: maverick #pete maverick mitchell fic #same mistakes

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simeffable · 2 months

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| The Boys had a dapper photoshoot.

info about my LOST project below!

Hey all, not that anybody really cares but I thought I would update you guys on the status of my LOST project! I’ve had a lot of love on this from Reddit and Tumblr alike so I thank you all very kindly.

The sims I hope to release are as follows (purple-complete, green-current WIP, white/black means I haven’t started them yet oops):

Hurley, Jack, Sawyer, John, Charlie, Jin, Sayid, Desmond, Ben, Richard, Juliet, Kate, Claire, Ana Lucia, Sun, Rose, Bernard, Shannon, Boone, Libby, Eko, Michael, Walt, Penny, Charles (Widmore), Miles, Daniel, Charlotte, Horace, Radzinsky, Chang, Jacob, MIB (as himself).

The items I hope to release are as follows:

• 2x build buy promotional posters (EA aesthetic w/ English and Simlish swatches)

• Dharma Initiative Jumpsuit (in brown and navy)

• Jack’s Tattoos (linked)

• Dharma Initiative branded clutter (including cereal boxes, wine bottles, orientation folders, jared and tinned food)

• The Swan Station mural.

———

This project is taking me a while, as I do work full time and obviously cannot commit to a schedule for it. I am also a huge perfectionist and it literally took me months to settle on the boys’ final forms, so I tend to take my time with content anyway. I am hoping to get the whole thing released before the summer.

#ts4 #simblr #the sims 4 #ts4 simblr #ts4mm #ts4cc #lost #ts4ccfinds #lost tv show #john locke #jack shephard #ben linus #ts4 edit #ts4 screenshots #ts4 dump #sawyer ford #desmond hume #josh holloway #maxis mix

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timaeusterrored · 6 months

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(Peek-A- ‘Boo’)

((Thank you @kharonion for the adorable name))

October 30th, 11:30pm

“I wanna watch something scary.”

“We are in a hospital, Vince.”

“…And?”

Vincent pouted as his normally down for anything husband said no to his request. Though their other half was already flipping through the TV, smiling when Kerry groaned.

“I don’t want our child to know we were waiting for her while watching Halloween! Feels fucked up.”

“It’s not gonna be fucked up if she’s a Halloween baby. Which is what I’m totally hoping for because it’ll match her blanket.” Vincent rubbed his belly, making his husband eye him suspiciously. Vincent grinned.

“Don’t hold our child in for her to be born on Halloween! It’ll still count if she pops out today!” Kerry rubbed his face, then groaned when the intro to Halloween started followed by laughter from Johnny.

“I can’t stand either of you.”

Jamie May Linder-Eurodyne was born on October 31st at 6:13am. Vincent did not ‘hold her in’ because she didn’t want to come out- like father like daughter I suppose.

There was no mistaking she was Johnny’s kid, with gorgeous dark eyes and his nose, and as pale as he was, Vincent was shocked she didn’t come with tattoos and wouldn’t be surprised if her first word was fuck.

But she was gorgeous, and she was a halloween baby much to Vincent’s delight. And she was so little.

Once Vincent was settled and finally able to eat, they turned on the ‘Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown’ instead as to not traumatize their baby on her first few hours, though they did get some chuckles out of their doctor about the whole horror movie thing. And he did say he didn’t expect them to NOT watch a horror movie today!

Auntie Judy came in clutch with some spooky sushi, and uncle River came with some candy so the three didn’t miss out… but Johnny paid them no mind. In fact, he wasn’t even in the room.

He stood outside the nursery, frowning at the glass put between him and his baby. He had done the same with Ted, he hated being separated from them. But this hurt for some reason, and maybe it was because this was his flesh and blood. This poor baby girl had the Linder blood in her, and Johnny would make damn sure she wasn’t treated the way he was about it. Because she was also part Vincent, mellow and sarcastic Vincent that only hurt flies in self defense. Who made her and Ted baby blankets during his pregnancy. There was a possibility of her being gentle…

Johnny didn’t hear the foot steps behind him until an arm slipped around his waist. He wrapped his arm around Kerry as they both watched the sleeping baby.

“Hate this part… why can’t they just stay in our room?”

“So they can make sure she’s okay… that she’s healthy. And to let Vince recover from pushing that out of him.” Kerry pointed out, rubbing his eyes.

Neither would ever understand or take credit for what Vincent has pulled off twice now, but damn it was exhausting and they didn’t eat until he did because it just felt cruel.

“Guadalupe brought some chili if you want, made just how you like it.” That did sound really good.

“Yeah… alright. I’m fuckin’ starving…” Johnny finally peeled his eyes away from his baby and let himself be lead back to their room, where their family and friends sat around Vincent with food and praise. They gave Kerry and Johnny hugs and congratulations, Mama Welles quick to shove a bowl of chili into Johnny’s hands so he could finally eat.

He ate quietly as his family talked around him, these people were his family whether he liked it or not. He noted Vik wasn’t here and had probably taken the Ted shift since it was too early for the four year old to be awake, and also this was a new territory for all of them. Siblings.

They’d get through it, they always did.

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ddesguv · 1 month

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Chapter 6

You don't even remember falling asleep last night, but now you're suddenly jolted awake by a strange sensation. Your stomach grumbles, demanding food. It's been... hours? You sit up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, and glance around the lobby, it seems you fell asleep here on the couch . Hm... You need a cup of coffee, and some breakfast . You stand up, stretching your muscles, and pad over to the grand kitchen of the hotel.

Once in the kitchen, you put all your energy into making the perfect cup of coffee once again, the shadowy creature that holds the place of a tattoo on your arm emits a slow, tingly feeling across it, perhaps trying to get your attention? You close your eyes and try to concentrate on the sensations that try to reach you from it. A subtle craving for waffles blooms inside you.

You grin, deciding that some breakfast is indeed in order, and set about making a batch of waffles. The scent of them cooking fills the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation. While they cook, you take the coffee over to the table and pour yourself a steaming mugful, enjoying the rich aroma as you sip it.

The shadowy tattoo on your arm continues to tingle and pulse gently, as if trying to get your attention. Curious, you focus on it, trying to discern what it might be trying to tell you. As you do so, a small, dark tendril slips free from the mass of smoke and shadow and curls around your finger, guiding your hand to the waffle iron.

You follow its lead, taking the waffles out of the iron just as they begin to brown and crisp, filling the room with the irresistible aroma of maple syrup and freshly baked dough. You place three plates on the table, heaping a serving of waffles onto each one, then pour syrup and a sprinkling of powdered sugar over them. They look absolutely delicious. You let the little shadow have a go at a waffle, extending your arm towards the plate and watching as it's smoky tendrils swirl and wiggle forming a somewhat normal shape of a hand, unlike last time, you can't help the chuckle that escapes at the thought of an eldritch horror looking thing asking for chicken nuggets and waffles.

Time to get Charlie and Vaggie up for breakfast.You make your way out of the kitchen, humming contentedly, and head towards the room that the two girls share . The hallway is eerily quiet, but you're not worried. The shadow on your arm feels... different today. More alive. As if it's beginning to understand you, and you it. You can't help but feel a sense of belonging, of purpose. You reach the door to the room and knock gently on it.

"Charlie? Vaggie? You guys up for some breakfast?" you call out. There's a muffled groan from the bed, and then Vaggie pokes her head out. She blinks sleepily at you, her eyes slowly focusing.

"Mm... breakfast sounds amazing," she says, yawning. "Is it ready?"

"It's just about on the table," you reply, gesturing back towards the kitchen. "Come and get it." She nods, then turns and disappears back into the bedroom, calling for Charlie. A moment later, your friend emerges, rubbing her eyes and stretching.

"Charlie, we've got breakfast," you say with a grin. "Waffles, coffee, the works." She yawns and nods, following you back to the kitchen. As you enter, the warm, sweet smell of waffles and coffee fills the air, and the sight of the plate piled high with breakfast food is enough to make your stomach rumble in anticipation.

The three of you sit down at the table, and you can't help but feel a sense of contentment as you watch them dig in. Vaggie takes a bite of her waffle and closes her eyes in bliss, while Charlie pours syrup over her plate with gusto. They chat and laugh between bites, and you can't help but feel like you're part of something special.

" Hey, you heard anything about Angel?" You can't help but ask, you aren't exactly worried about him, but still hope he's ok.

"Nope, he's probably at the studio sucking dick" Vaggie says with a hand in the air moving it dismissively.

Charlie rolls her eyes, "Vaggie, that's not funny."

"What? It's true. You know that's literally his job, he's a pornstar ."

You can't help but chuckle at that. Angel did seem to have a bit of a reputation, but he was a good guy.

"I hope he's okay. He seemed pretty down the other day." You say, taking another sip of your coffee.

"Oh, he'll be fine. He's just going through a rough patch, that's all. You know how it is," Vaggie says with a knowing smile, but there's a hint of concern in her voice.

Charlie nods in agreement, "Yeah, he'll pull through. He's got us, after all." She glances over at you and grins. "And we've got you, right?"

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at her words. "Always," you reply, giving her a reassuring smile as you get up and collect the dirty dishes.

Vaggie and Charlie follow suit, helping you clear the table and wash the dishes. The three of you work together seamlessly, like you've been doing it for years. As you finish up, you can't help but think that this feels right.

" Thanks for the breakfast, we should all probably go get dressed and head to the mall now" Vaggie says while drying he hands on a kitchen towel.

"Yeah, it's still early enough that we should be able to get some good parking spots," Charlie agrees. "I can't wait to see what kind of trouble we can get into today."

The three of you head back to your respective rooms, gathering your belongings and changing into more casual clothes. You've borrowed some of Charlie's old clothes, they don't exactly fit you, but they'll do for now, hopefully you'll find something nice at the mall.

Once you're all dressed, you make your way out to the car. Surprised to see that it's a fucking limousine.

"Holy shit, Charlie! This is amazing!" You exclaim, running over to the car and inspecting it.

"The mall?" the limo driver says with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, uh, yeah. We mean... we're just heading out for the day," Charlie stammers, looking a bit embarrassed. "Right, Vaggie?"

The limo driver smirks and nods, already opening the door for you. "Well, enjoy your day, ladies. The car will take you wherever you'd like to go."

You climb into the luxurious interior of the limousine, taking in the plush seats, the mini-bar, and the flat-screen TV mounted on the ceiling. It's like being in a whole other world. Vaggie and Charlie exchange glances, clearly enjoying your enthusiasm.

The driver closes the door and gets behind the wheel, and with a smooth rev of the engine, you're on your way to the mall. As you cruise down the street, you can't help but feel a sense of freedom and excitement. You decide to take advantage of the limo's amenities and help yourself to a drink from the mini-bar. You try not to show your disappointment when you discover that it's filled with water and soda, no alcohol.

" I should have probably made a list with the things I need" you say, felling a little stupid for not considering better the things you need.

"Don't worry about it, we'll find everything we need" Charlie reply with a reassuring smile. "We can always go to the department stores and window shop for stuff we like."

You look out the window as the limo pulls into the mall parking lot, taking in the sprawling complex of shops and restaurants. It's a pleasant day in hell, it seems, well, if you ignore the dead bodies and guts smeared across the streets.

The three of you step out of the car and head inside, the air-conditioning a welcome relief from the humidity. You let Vaggie and Charlie lead the way, content to wander aimlessly and take in the sights and sounds of the mall. There's a certain energy here, a sense of possibility. Even though you're technically among the living dead, you can't help but feel a spark of life within you.

You find yourselves drawn to a department store, its expansive windows displaying the latest fashions. "Ooh, let's check out the clothes," Vaggie suggests, and the three of you wander over to the women's section. You lose yourselves for a while, trying on dresses and skirts, debating the merits of various tops and blouses.

The store is practically deserted, save for a few wandering sales associates. It's almost eerie, like a scene out of a post-apocalyptic movie. But there's something comforting about it too. The three of you are free to explore, to try on whatever you want, without anyone judging you. You can't help but feel a sense of freedom and liberation.

You decide it's best to shop for essentials first, t-shirts, pants, underwear and socks.You spend some time in the mall, buying the things you need and having a good time. You find yourself growing closer to Vaggie and Charlie as you shop together, sharing stories and laughing at your past lives.

The afternoon sun begins to dip below the horizon, painting the sky a warm, golden hue. You decide it's time to head back to the car. As you walk through the mall, you can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia for the world that you left. There's something bittersweet about being here, surrounded by the remnants of a past life.

You and your new friends stop at a food court, deciding to grab a bite to eat before heading home. You chat animatedly as you choose from the various fast-food options, your conversation flowing as easily as the various flavors of soda. Who knew hell would be such a lovely place?

As you finish your meal, you feel a sudden urge to see what's playing at the movie theater. It's been years since you've been to one, and you can't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia. Vaggie and Charlie seem game, so you head over to the theater, purchasing tickets for the latest blockbuster that hell has to offer.

Biggest mistake of your imortal life, the movie was shit, the acting was shit, everything was shit, this might be true hell, being subjected to torture in the form of poor media and television.

You, Vaggie and Charlie endure the two hours of garbage on the screen, and as soon as the credits start to roll, you can't help but feel relieved. "Well, that was... something," Vaggie says with a sigh. "Shall we go back to the limo?"

You nod in agreement, grateful to escape the theater. As you make your way through the mall once more, you find yourself reflecting on the day. Despite the occasional reminder of your new existence, it's been surprisingly enjoyable. You've met new friends, shopped for clothes, and even managed to catch a movie.

You can't help but wonder what tomorrow will bring. Maybe you'll explore the city further, find new places to visit, or simply relax and unwind at home. The possibilities seem endless, and for once, you're not afraid of the future. Maybe this hell isn't so bad after all.

As you reach the car, the driver holds open the backseat door for you, Vaggie, and Charlie. You climb in, settling into the plush leather as the driver starts the engine. The air conditioning feels amazing after being outside, and you lean back, enjoying the ride home.

As the cityscape passes by outside, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness for the world that you left behind. But at the same time, you're grateful for the experiences you've had today. This new existence may not be perfect, but it's not all bad either.

The car pulls up to the hotel, and the driver comes around to open your door. You step out, taking a deep breath of the cool evening air. The hotel is lit up, casting a warm glow onto the grounds. It's hard not to feel a sense of belonging here, despite knowing that this place is just as much a part of hell as anything else.

Once you and the girls are inside the lobby you let yourself fall on the couch, happy to be home, today was quite exhausting."Well, that was a fun day out, wasn't it?" Vaggie says, sitting down beside you.

"Yeah, it really was. I can't believe we did all that," Charlie agrees, flopping down on the other side of you. " Also, before I forget" she rummages trough one of her shopping bags, you're surprised to she that she hands you a phone and a credit card " These are for you, I would like to formally employ you as the chef for this hotel!"

" Charlie... when did you even get them? I can't possibly accept this, you've done so much for me already, I don't even know what to say!"

"You're going to say 'thank you' and you're going to take them. Now come on, you're good at cooking and we're going to need it. Now I know you won't starve us with that card, so just accept it. And as for the phone, it's for emergencies and if you need anything, just call me and I'll be there." She says with a soft smile.

You take the items from her, still feeling a bit overwhelmed. "Thank you, Charlie. I'll do my best to make sure you and everyone else here at the hotel are well taken care of." You say, feeling a small lump forming in your throat.

Vaggie pats you on the shoulder. "You'll do great Bambi. And if you ever need any help or have any questions, feel free to ask me. I'm more than happy to help out."

You smile at her, feeling a sense of gratitude and belonging wash over you. Even though this hell might not be perfect, you've found a new family here. And as long as you have them, you can make it through anything.

As the three of you sit there, enjoying the comfortable silence, you can't help but wonder what tomorrow will bring. Perhaps another day of exploring the city, or maybe some much-needed relaxation by the pool. The possibilities are endless, and for the first time in a long time, you're not afraid to embrace the unknown.

You are jolted from your thoughts by the sound of the entrance door being rudely slammed shut, as you turn around you are pleased to see it's Angel Dust.

" Sup bitches" he says waving two of his hands while a third one holds his glasses and the forth one is placed on his hip.

"Hey Angel" you reply with a smile, feeling a bit more comfortable knowing that he's alive.

Vaggie and Charlie exchange glances, clearly curious about what's going on. "And what have you been up to today, Angel?" Vaggie asks, her voice laced with a hint of suspicion.

" Don't get your tits in a twist Vagina, I ain't on drugs."

"Well, that's a relief," Charlie says with a sigh. "So, how was work ?"

" Do ya really wanna know?"

" Yeah... One second thought, maybe not"

"That's what I thought, anyway, what's for dinner, I'm starved"

" I was thinking about some pizza, I really want to try out that oven "

" Sounds good to me, I'm in"

With that said, you make your way to the kitchen ready to make some dough and one hell of a pizza.

As you get to work, you can't help but feel grateful for the new phone and credit card. It's a nice reminder that you have people who care about you here. You wonder what kind of life you would have ended up with if you hadn't met them. Maybe you would have just kept on running, never finding any peace.

The dough comes together quickly, thanks to your years of practice. You shape it into a large circle and then top it with a layer of tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella cheese, and a generous amount of pepperoni. The oven is already preheated to the perfect temperature, and it doesn't take long for the pizza to cook. Soon, the delicious aroma fills the air.

You hear a commotion coming from the lobby, and you know that the others must be hungry. You take the pizza out of the oven and carefully transfer it to a cutting board. As you slice it up, you hear laughter and excited chatter coming from the others. You join them in the lobby, carrying the large pizza to the center of the group.

The aroma of freshly baked pizza fills the air, and everyone's eyes light up as they see the delicious meal in front of them. Angel practically inhales his first slice, moaning with delight. "This is the some good shit, not as good as my nonna would make tho.," he says, wiping the cheese from his mouth.

Charlie and Vaggie exchange a knowing glance before sitting down on the couch together, each taking a slice of pizza for themselves. They laugh and talk animatedly, their voices echoing through the lobby.

You take a seat on the floor next to them, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. This might not be the perfect life, but it's starting to feel like home. The familiar scent of smoke and sweat in the air, the worn-out furniture, and the mismatched decorations all blend together to create an atmosphere that's unique to this place.

As you watch the others eat and chat, you can't help but wonder what their stories are. Angel is the obvious wild card, but even Charlie and Vaggie have their secrets. There's a certain sadness in their eyes that you can't quite place, as if they're carrying around some unspoken burden. But at the same time, they're strong and resilient, able to find joy in the little things like a shared pizza.

The conversation drifts from one topic to another, covering everything from the latest news to old memories. You listen intently, feeling a part of the group for the first time in a long while. It's not perfect, but it's something. And in this place, that's enough.

As the night wears on, the pizza is devoured, and the dishes are cleared away, you find yourself drawn to the window, staring out at the darkened cityscape. The lights twinkle like stars, and the neon signs cast an otherworldly glow over the streets. It's a beautiful, yet eerie sight that you can't seem to tear your eyes away from.

"What's with you tonight, huh?" Angel asks, sidling up beside you. He leans his elbow on the window frame and peers out into the night as well. "You seem a little... deep in thought."

You shrug, not quite sure how to explain it.

"I honestly don't know, it feels like something's missing, and it kinda scares me, because what's missing is that adrenaline rush I had back up top, when I was elbows deep into some fuckers guts, I thought I did what I did to help people, to make the world a little safer, and now I'm starting to realize that it was mostly for me."

" Holy shit toots, ya got some issues, don't worry tho, you're in hell, go nuts, you could walk down the street and stab every hoe you see, and no one's gonna give a fuck."

Angel says, laughing, but there's a serious undertone to his voice that makes you wonder if he's just trying to convince himself of that.

You turn away from the window, a strange mixture of emotions churning in your stomach. Part of you wants to believe what Angel says, to embrace the chaos and violence that this place has to offer. But another part of you reminds you of what Charlie is trying to do, you can't go around murdering demons just for the fun of it then stay here knowing that Charlie would be against something like that.

You've always been a good person, you've always tried to help others, and now you're just stuck in this hellhole, wondering what the point of it all is. Then it hits you, rapists, abusers, pedos, hell must be full of them, it wouldn't be too bad if you go after them, right?

You turn towards Angel, offering him a small smile" You're probably right, but for now I'll sleep on it, good night Angel"

He smirks, nodding in understanding. "Good night. Don't let the bedbugs bite. Too hard~"

You laugh, shoving him lightly before turning away from the window. As you make your way back to the couch, you can't help but feel a renewed sense of purpose. Yes, maybe this place isn't all fun and games, and maybe you're not exactly living the life you thought you would. But there are still people here who need help, people who deserve justice. And if that means taking on the demons of the underworld, then so be it.

You collect your shopping bags and make your way towards your room, ready to hit the hay.

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #fanfiction #alastor #mature theme #slow burn #x reader

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