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#but after sharing my ideas and works into the wild and watching people gather around to share ideas back-
yuriyuruandyuraart · 2 years
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ah well gosh hi???
in what i said was gonna be a one day break from, well, life tbh, i seemingly realized that i don't just have school coming SOON, but that i wasn't prepared to wake up at 2pm to find out i only have a few days left of total free time not spent struggling and stressing out over exams of all things
so like any average person i went and made plans with friends to hang out and get my mind off of everything- and while it was good while it lasted, i really wanted to be, yknow, clear
i have artworks at the ready, and if i ever become desperate enough to start getting a hang on drawing with a mouse all the time i might as well, but as things stand i really do not know what the heck i am doing-
i'll try my hardest to at least look for a way to fix the pen cause that's just the most important and expensive part of the damaged stuff, but i'm thinking the cable is perma-broke so i'll have to look for a way to replace it
to cut right to the chase: i have some art i can post. but i dunno when, if, or which to post because most of them have some context that i would've normally been all too eager to explain, but as things stand? man i don't think i could muster the energy to try
so? i dunno yall- i mean i could start writing again? i've entertained the idea long enough and this might be just the opportunity to finally get some practice without getting distracted by drawing :'D
i could do small stuff with a mouse if i feel like sharing some art, but the illustrations? i feel like i can only post those once i feel a bit more alive mentally and physically to interact with others without feeling so drained all the time (but knowing that school's coming, i can't really promise anything :'))
thanks a lot for the sweet words and patience guys- it means a lot that you won't immediately, idk, ditch this blog once you realize i might not post much if not at all (hopefully not gosh) for an undetermined amount of time? you really made me realize this wasn't as bad as my mind's been pushing me to think,
so trust me i WILL bounce back and reblog stuff and have entire essays in your tags eventually- i just need to stop feeling like it has to be today, or tomorrow, or any days afterwards, just that it will happen when i feel like it<3
#rambling#delete later?#it feels so funny to get bothered by something that would be trivial to future me in like...idk a year?#i'm not as upset as i thought i'd be too- just mostly numb i guess..#also the reason why i can't bring myself to post the artworks i had- can i really talk about how much fun i had drawing them?#when i'm barely wrapping my head around the fact that i can't no more? and for an uncertain amount of time where i'll be too busy#too tired and too short on money to even think about drawing in the first place? i don't think i wanna get used to that but well#if there's one thing i can take from these vacations is that while you guys can't see it i really did have fun improving on my art#and gosh do i love what i'm doing so much that i personally wouldn't mind if it were just for me alone to see#but after sharing my ideas and works into the wild and watching people gather around to share ideas back-#i can say i like my art and the why is because it makes me happy! and it apparently does for you guys too so why not share! >:)#i also guess one of the reasons i'm not as active is cause of the whole need to compose myself and find the time to breathe and enjoy#the works of the others and mine and think of ways to express my feelings to everyone#and trust me sometimes i wish i could just write nothing and post/reblog- but it feels so empty#if i wanted to do that i'd make another account#no i want to talk about what i love with y'all and if i start rambling well no one's complaining!#if i see something made with the thought of me behind it then ain't no way in hell i'm not climbing rooftops yelling how much i love it#so if i somehow don't do that then i'm either too busy to even check tumblr- dead- or doing even worse somehow- so nothing against you!#guess i had that on my mind for a while now so please! i'm not ignoring you on purpose! i'm probably too wrapped up in my stuff to react#same for asks btw i am not joking there's so many and i live in constant shame xD :')#if you made it this far i am so sorry for yet another long post but i feel it's justified a little x) goodnight everyone! have a nice day<3
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truly truly Neil Charlie Todd triumvirate is king please share any thoughts you have on them
OH BOY ANON YOU HAVE OPENED A CAN OF WORMS.
I. OPENING THESIS?
Basically, here’s my abstract for this whole thing:
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(Les Misérables, trans. Isabel F. Hapgood)
And having put this down, I’ll ask you to overlook it, lol. Or treat it as a very loose guide! (If you haven’t any idea what the context of this refers to, here’s a quick rundown: a chief is a leader and someone who people rally behind. A guide is an enthusiast about all things and an advocate for progress, someone who checks the rampant idealism of the chief. The centre is warm, loyal, and acts almost as a mini-Sun for the chief and guide to orbit around, to stop them shooting off on their own wild trajectories.) In the interest of complete transparency, reading Les Mis at a young age had this irreparable effect on me where I now have to think of every triumvirate as a chief/guide/centre dynamic, but I don’t think this model applies 1:1 towards Neil/Charlie/Todd. Instead, I think of them a little as composites, interplaying with each other – Charlie as a guide who would much rather be a chief, Neil as a chief who works better as a guide, and Todd as a centre who’s never given the grace to grow into that role. Let’s go!
II. CHARLIE AS THE CHIEF-GUIDE
Charlie is like if rowdiness was a Guy. He’s big, he’s brash, he’s the instigator and he’s the captain and he’s the shameless one and he’s a side character! I have always found this very interesting whenever I watch DPS; despite Charlie’s main character-ness he is secondary, and doesn’t even get his own sideplot in the same way that Knox (for example) does. He’s a born leader who by virtue of the trappings of his story is relegated to supporting others, although you can so, so clearly see him fighting for space in the story. He gets pushed into being a guide almost by default; only the trait of enthusiasm really applies here. If Neil wasn’t there he’d be the leader of their group, no question. And the thing about Charlie is that he gets things done. He’s the one pushing the most for the re-creation of the Dead Poets Society after Neil, he’s caustic about things that are in his way (“Well, why don’t you stay home?”), people follow him! See Knox running after him, asking to be taught:
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Charlie is the man of action – the telephone stunt is the biggest incident of that. And the way the boys gather around him afterwards as he regales them is chief-like; here he is acting as the chief, because this is around the same time that Neil’s chief role starts to slip away from him. But more of that later. 
The big thing is that Charlie never gets to really assume that role of chief, because Neil is always there. I talked earlier about how he pushes for the re-creation of the Society; well, Neil is the one who finds Keating’s old annual and reads it aloud to them. Charlie is the one cutting down the guys’ concerns about sneaking out after school: Neil is the one who suggests it – more than suggests it! Almost commands it, in a way that leaves little room for debate:
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(Note that in this section, it’s Charlie who does the arguing for Neil, who doesn’t speak except to lay down the law and then ask who’s coming. Real king and knight energy.) 
Charlie never quite manages to edge into centre stage. You can sort of see how there might be resentment there – perhaps there would have been if they had gone on uninterrupted. But then of course Neil dies, and Charlie assumes the chief role by default, but it’s no longer glorious or something he can covet. But he does it anyway; he wakes up Todd, he breaks the news to him, very, very gently, he wipes Todd’s mouth with snow when he vomits and tells the others to leave him alone. But by this point, Charlie going into the chief role he’s so good at isn’t enough to stop the splintering of their group or his own expulsion.  
III. NEIL AS THE GUIDE-CHIEF
Part of Neil’s tragedy is that he would be good at the things his father wants him to do! He’s a wonderful all-rounder, he's the perfect all-American specimen, there’s no doubt in my mind he would have been a great doctor – except he wouldn’t, because the enthusiasm and the motivation would have been lacking entirely. (As someone who just did a shit ton of medical school interviews, yeah, they would have sniffed this guy out really fast. Or maybe they wouldn't… not sure how stringent they were in the ‘50s.) He would have been technically great. But being able to do something doesn’t mean you should; these are the things that Mr. Perry conflates and which Neil is never able to verbalise to him, except in a way in which he thinks he’ll understand:
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In this scene, when he talks to him post-performance it’s not “I enjoyed it”, but a very simple, “I was really good”. And despite this concession of terms he says it when his father can't hear, because he knows he would never relent, oh God.
Actually, a lot of what I wanted to say about Neil has already been said in Charlie’s section. (The summary is basically that you must imagine me offstage with a megaphone as the movie plays, yelling, “YOU TWO NEED TO SWITCH PLACES, FUCKOS”.) Neil is a good leader, but that doesn’t mean he likes being one, or that he should be one! He has a few characteristics of a guide – he’s enthusiastic about everything, he has this boundless kind of delight in the things he loves (not idealism; that’s slightly different). But this is honestly where the model falls apart. I don’t think that Neil would make a great guide either, logic not being his forte; the irony is that the role of the triumvirate he most fits IS the chief, it’s just that that’s what kills him. The responsibility that comes with being someone who “speaks and people listen” isn’t good for him – this dichotomy of having “control” over the friendship group/no control over his personal life is terrible. He does get to lose the chief role, but it’s not in a way that is good for him; instead this manifests in a loss of control that happens very very quickly, which just makes him reach for ways in which he can control his own life. And besides, stepping outside of a leadership role with a great deal of responsibility and losing control over the course of your own life are two very different things. I just think that he should get to go offstage for a little bit and rest, with zero expectations on him ever. (Also there’s something here about how he gets to play Puck – a side character who has major effects on the story but doesn’t have to actually put his skin in the game. This is what I think Neil should get to do In Real Life.)  
IV. TODD AS THE PROTO-CENTRE 
One thing about Todd is that in my mind, I always imagine him as much redder than he actually is in the movie. I don’t mean I imagine him to blush more often – I mean ruddier, more flushed. Going back to the Les Mis quote – in my mind he does “possess all the qualities of a centre, roundness and radiance”! Todd is a catalyst like Keating in a way that Keating isn’t; this is never explicit at all but he has always felt to me like someone who inspires others by their presence. He’s such a wonderful, calming, grounding influence. Even when he talks to Neil and they have that non-argument he tempers Neil and reminds him what’s at stake without looking down on him. And when he realises how serious he is, he goes with it and supports him to the best of his ability – he says “Oh, Neil, Neil, you’re crazy” but it’s fond, he’s overjoyed for him. And you can see similar behaviour perhaps to a lesser extent with Charlie in the way particularly he calls him Nuwanda after his request, which is taken as ridiculous by other characters: 
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And even after Neil’s death he does so, refusing to go back to normal:
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But the reason I’ve put “proto-” for a prefix is because these are all singular occasions. The thing is that I think Todd could be that brilliant, grounding, assured man, a lighthouse of a man, almost. But he isn’t – he clearly isn’t – at the beginning of the movie he is shy and diffident and the non-argument I mentioned early does go a little sour, because while he speaks from a place of concern and love, his anxiety manifests in the conversation and makes him a little less tactful than he might have been otherwise. If things had gone on better than they went, and if Todd had been allowed to grow and develop more and without worry, he really, really would have blossomed into this kind of centre, this very steady man who would have reminded Neil of the consequences of his actions and made Charlie care about the consequences of his. But he doesn’t get to do that – by the time he grows and becomes more confident it’s too late, the worst has already happened. 
V. SUMMARY
I’m so sorry, anon, this is a prodigious answer to what was a very simple ask, but you hit on the subject I have Very Strong Feelings About. Not to toot my own fanfic horn, but there’s an excerpt from the fair folk AU which I think sums this up pretty well:
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TL;DR: Charlie gets pushed into a secondary position which doesn’t suit him; Neil gets pushed into a leadership position which suits him, but he hates; Todd is willing to step into that secondary position as a behind-the-scenes supporter, but never actually gets that opportunity. Hence the tragedy. Hence the taking of lives. Hence how many fucking tears I have shed over this movie, Jesus. 
(I had a lot of fun writing this – thank you for giving me a reason to!)
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caramel1mochi · 3 months
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So I love Jollz and joshseki but nobody writes about valorant streamers 😔
I was wondering if you would??
Like ik jollz makes a ton of mom tokes all the time but what if he secretly had like a wife or something?? He's 30 now so he'd probably be married for a couple of years and he randomly says something about his relationship on stream or like reader walks in during a stream by accident not remembering hes streaming?
And joshseki has a girlfriend he met through valorant and they started living together? Like his chat randomly starts noticing pink stuff around his gaming room and stuff (like they share a gaming room) and start getting suspicious?
IDKK I just love them both and I think stories about the two would be so cute. And I think if someone starts writing about the two then maybe more would start as well. I know you're in the middle of an iso series right now but I like your writing because of how good and long they are.
Heya, thanks for the request! And your kind words, got me smiling like an idiot for too long haha‎ ‎  Also so sorry for the delay, literally everything happened when you sent this I am fish and the reckoning cinematic is my water I just CAN'T stop watching  ‎ ‎‎‎‎ Writing about real people is a very new concept for me so I hope I did well on this. Have a good read!‎! ‎ ‎
[ Jollz x F! Reader ] / [ Joshseki x F! Reader ]
Words: 1k each‎ ‎ 
Note: Please don't copy or steal my work and pass it off as your own! If you'd like to use one of my headcanons or something, I'd love it if you tagged or asked.‎ ‎‎ ‎  
。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·
Jollz!
This morning had been a slow one for Jollz. His routine was the same as any other one. He woke up, washed up, and went to the kitchen to make his morning coffee whilst chatting with you. He had a timer on his phone to specifically announce when he should get to his office to start streaming. But even after it struck and he had arrived to turn on his computer, he didn’t gain any of the energy he normally had every other day.
Moving his mouse felt like a drag, let alone actually focusing on the upcoming game. And the topic that the chat had taken up once people had gathered didn’t exactly help either; people mostly started comparing their morning routines after their previously relaxed greetings spiralled.
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‘Yo whats ur morning routine?’
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“Guys, this is gonna be hard to believe, but my morning routine isn’t crazy. It’s ten minutes long.”
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He tapped his index finger on the mousepad as he read a few responses from the chatters. This drab talk about morning routines was definitely not on his list of ‘entertaining things to talk about’, and it only further exhausted him.
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“Yeah, no, I’m only playing a couple games today. No idea why I’m so tired, though.”
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‘only single people have 10 min morning routines’
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‘facts’
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A few other people were also quick to agree with this sentiment; all except for the obvious, Jollz, and he couldn’t help but laugh at this exchange with a particularly prideful smile. He sat back and smugly checked out his nails as he spoke,
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“Trueee. Single people have way too much time on their hands. Glad I'm not one of them.”
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He knew exactly what he was doing with these words. And almost as if it were on cue, his smile only widened to a grin once he saw the stream of oncoming messages the moment he stopped talking. And he didn’t really need to read anything to know that they were demanding an explanation for such a bold statement.
Now this was the excitement he was used to, he mused.
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“‘What do you mean by that?’ I’m just saying what we’re all thinking here.”
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‘Jollz youre speaking in code’
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“Speaking in code? That’s wild...”
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The door behind him swung open, and a set of gentle knocks that accompanied them interrupted the entertainment he was deriving from the catastrophe. Luckily, by the sound of the steps he heard earlier, Jollz already knew it was you before he turned around to meet your gaze.
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“Hey, babe, are you…”
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He stopped once he noticed the full cup of coffee in your hands, and the lack of steam from the drink was enough to tell him what you didn’t need to say. Jollz had forgotten the coffee he made in the kitchen this morning. Again.
Which also explained why he was so bloody tired, but that’s by the by.
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“Wait, hold on, listen–”
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“This is the third time this week.”
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Jollz sat up with a guilty smile as you approached with his cup, and he couldn’t help but scramble for reasons to defend himself.
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“Fair point, but…”
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“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t help you if a fly ever happens to drown in this.”
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Of course you’d say that, he thought. The mere thought of a fly grossed you out, let alone digging one’s corpse out of a drink.
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“Yeah, so, in all fairness, I actually had something scheduled.”
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“Today?” 
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You stopped at his desk and set down the cup in an empty spot on his desk, but there were a multitude of tabs open on one monitor and Valorant proudly displayed on the other. They all seemed to be calling for your attention. You were only vaguely familiar with most of the software that he had open; however, it wasn’t exactly hard to isolate the chat amongst everything. It rapidly moved with messages you couldn’t read from this distance. But the worst part was that you could see your own reflection on the webcam as you stood behind him.
Uh oh.
Your attire, being a casual nightgown, did not meet the standards expected of someone standing in front of a bloody audience. Well, not your standards, anyway. A tinge of red painted your cheeks once you’d finally put two-and-two together.
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“You didn’t tell me you were streaming today. Am I interrupting?”
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“Oh yeah, totally. It was intense before you came in. VCT-level gameplay.”
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You lightly laughed once he pointed to the timer whilst it searched for a game before pulling him close and planting a kiss on his cheek.
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“I’ll let you handle it. Best of luck, dear.”
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Cheeky, you mused to yourself as you walked out of the room. But being the guy who always resorted to knifing everyone whenever he could, it made sense for him to be just that.
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“Thanks babe.” He took a sip shortly after, grimacing at the temperature before he set it down. “Ice cold coffee, my favourite.”
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That one sip seemed to work in rejuvenating him, however, and he was definitely grateful for that. Only now did he actually take notice of what the flood of messages were actually saying. And once they came down from their shock, they inferred exactly what was going on.
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‘dear 🥺’
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‘Girlfriend’
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‘ya thats his gf alright’
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Quick on his feet, he prepared another statement sure to stir the pot that was his viewers’ confusion.
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“Why’s ‘girlfriend’ your first guess? She could be my friend’s mom, for all you know, and they’re just visiting today.”
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‘That’s not stopping you jollz 💀💀💀’
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‘YOU CALLED HER BABE’
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They shortly spammed the words ‘babe’ and ‘thanks babe’ to subtly remind him of how he referred to you earlier.
To put it kindly, this statement was instantaneously shot down by the chatters. If their words weren’t indicative of that, the emotes they typed out alongside their growing surprise definitely made it clear. Besides, it wasn’t that hard to tell, considering you were exactly Jollz’s type, down to the mellow tone of your voice.
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‘is she actually ur gf tho’
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“Bro, don’t act confused. I’ve been wearing my wedding ring the whole time; you should’ve seen it by now.”
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His viewers flooded the chat with demands to be shown this mysterious ring he spoke of. And at that, he held up his hand with faux ignorance to reveal the multitude of rings he wore. Somehow, both this and the ‘clarifying’ statement only further confused the chatters.
Girlfriend, sure, but marriage? They probably would’ve doubted it if they hadn’t seen concrete proof mere minutes ago. Oh, but it technically should’ve been easy for them to infer his relationship status on account of the one secured around his ring finger. Not that it blended in, or anything.
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“It’s right here,” he extended his ring finger, “get it together, chat.”
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He teased with a cheeky smile before lifting his cold drink for another sip. If the coffee wasn’t quick enough to energise him, this conversation surely did.
Joshseki!
Josh’s gaming room was quite a minimalistic one. Despite having a notable array of colours that pleasantly complemented each other, they were still muted; and the structure of the furniture he’d picked out was delicately balanced between comfortable and presentable.
All of it fit his calm personality to a tee (when he wasn’t playing Valorant), and was also easy on the eyes. Especially for the viewers.
So during one particularly annoying game, once Josh unknowingly shifted his chair to the right as he spoke to his teammate, an annoying Reyna, one of his viewers’ eyes immediately locked on the hazy pink object that was set on the American sycamore dresser a few feet away. To say the bright pink item stood out despite the distance and the pixelation would be a massive understatement, and the fact that it sat there with no explanation only increased their curiosity to an exponential degree.
The only viewer who actually noticed this decided to type out his question,
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‘josh whats that behind u’
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Unfortunately for them, however, he didn’t catch the question amongst the onslaught of similar messages that were flooding the chat referencing the toxic duellist he was currently dealing with.
The game had been going on for nearly two hours, and the twentieth round promptly ended in a loss. Once they respawned and the overtime pop-up box appeared, everyone except for him immediately voted for the game to continue. Only one vote was required for it to end in a draw. He sat back with a sigh and took off his headphones so as to not listen to the demands of his teammates.
This seemingly simple move, however, covered up the pink object behind him.
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“What did I tell you, chat? This is what happens when I’m not the instalock. I’m drawing; I don’t care.”
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‘WHATS THAT BEHIND U\’
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The moment Josh looked towards the chat for a response, they quickly snatched up the opportunity and asked, but their message was drowned out by a union of agreement on their side.
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“‘Draw?’ Let’s go. See, I knew you guys would come around.”
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And with that, the game ended. He luckily couldn’t hear anything his teammates were saying since his headphones were off. He shortly grabbed them once they were all disconnected and went to put them on. An off-screen voice came up from the other side of the room before he could, asking a question muffled to the chat.
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“Yeah, I closed the door.”
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He responded, and the chat was overwhelmed with ‘who?’ and variations of the simple question. The voice increased in volume once more, presumably in response to his statement, and he looked back with a wide grin.
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“When’d he get here? Chat, wait, I have to take care of Nogu.”
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Josh stood up and walked out of the camera’s frame, revealing both the pink object and a baby pink dress splayed out on the couch. If that object and the mysterious voice didn’t cause enough of a fuss, this one absolutely did, and the chat erupted with even more questions despite him not being present.
He grabbed the cat from the other side of the room and left so he could put her outside. And by the time he came back, it had been discovered that the mysterious pink object was lipstick, further increasing their suspicions that there was another person in the room. And to say Josh came back to chaos would be a gross understatement.
He was bombarded with questions the moment he sat down and put his headphones back on. But after about a minute of staring blankly and attempting to decipher them, he managed to catch a repetitive question asked over and over.
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“‘Is the dress a gift?’ Chat, not every gift should be a Valorant skin. But no, it’s not.”
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He seemingly mistook their intention behind the question as he queued into another game, much to their frustration, and they responded the only sensible way before he’d move on from the topic.
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‘WHY IS THERE A DRESS’
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“It’s for my girlf–”
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“Josh, he’s still ruining my game!”
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The same voice spoke loudly from behind him once more. This time, however, it was audible enough and allowed the chat to finally comprehend what was being said. But before any more investigation could occur, a mysterious woman, you, popped up into the frame with the same rascal of a cat that spent the past twenty minutes sleeping on your keyboard and ruining your own game.
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“You watched me close the door this time!”
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“Yeah! He probably snuck through the opening.”
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It sounded plausible enough, what with how flexible the feline was and the considerably large opening just beneath the white door. You set him outside the corridor as Josh followed your movements, pushing Nogu away until he was at a safe distance before slamming the door shut. Then, you walked away, noticing a few seconds later what all of the confusion was about.
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“Hi chat! That’s my dress.”
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You pointed at the now-obscured lace dress before disappearing and going back to your setup. Once he turned his chair to face the monitor, he noticed the chaos that ensued in the chat, especially the flow of messages that were too quick for him to keep up with.
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“You guys heard that? It’s her dress.”
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The announcer’s voice immediately interrupted his words, and he was launched into the game. But the chat mulled over the design of the dress as Josh aimed to pick Reyna the moment he was allowed to. Despite only seeing it for a few seconds, they noted its formality…
Definitely a date night, huh?
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boydepartment · 1 year
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Hello there! It's me, sheep anon! (One of these days I'm going to run out of ideas for greetings.) I realized after I wrote my message last time that I wrote Heartache instead of Superache, whoops, spelling is not my strong suit. My week hasn't been the greatest, but I feel much better than yesterday, so I'm working on it. *Looks at myself crying on the floor for 10 mins feeling miserable* I feel like giving advice today, so here's something that I've been repeating to myself recently:
Be kind to yourself and don't beat yourself up over making mistakes. Acknowledging the fact that we're all going to mess up in our lives is the antithesis to perfectionism. Otherwise, you'll realize that whoops, you've played yourself and forgot to treat yourself like a human being. You kinda have to live with yourself for the rest of your life, so get comfortable with yourself. The idea that I would have to spend the rest of my life being myself was incredibly scary in the beginning, especially since self hatred is a thing, but I find it really empowering now. The one person that would never leave you is yourself, so treat yourself as a friend. <3
There's still a lot I have to learn about the world, but I hope that this message is heard by whoever needs to hear it. Most of my advice I've gathered from other people and from my own experiences, and everything is a work in progress, but I'm working on being better. =) On a happier note, have fun going to the skz concert! Your outfit looks so cool and remember to stay hydrated throughout, I heard it gets really hot during the performance. It's really cold and windy where I live as well, so I hope it gets warmer and we can all go outside and bask in the sunlight. Hugs for everyone!
~⁠(⁠つ⁠ˆ⁠Д⁠ˆ⁠)⁠つ⁠。⁠☆
-🐑
p.s. I did listen to Laufey and her music does remind me a lot of Dodie's, there's something warm about both of their music. If I had a recommend a content creator, it would be The Korean Vegan, her videos have very heartfelt and personal messages in them and have made me cry on more than one occasion. She's such a inspiration and her videos are about food, so you can't go wrong with that. She also has a podcast, which you can listen to on the go.
Hi again sheepie!!!! I’m really sorry your week has been rough :( I am glad it’s slowly getting better though!!
That is really good advice! I really believe I need to start thinking like that! I need to learn how to be less cruel towards myself, I’m very harsh towards myself and need a lot of things to be perfect in my eyes. Not towards other people of course, that would be really bad! In fact I tend to love people’s “imperfections.” Sometimes I get really sad when idols remove their uniqueness to them. I love unique and odd people. I need to start thinking that of myself. Your advice is always appreciated here :) thank you for always sharing
Also thank you so much!! I will definitely hydrate!!! I’ve been to a ton of concerts before and I tend to get a little wild! Not in a bad way though lol!!! I just love dancing around and singing along so much especially when I know the set list like the back of my hand!!
I cannot wait for the warmer weather, I live in an area where it gets warm very frequently so I am not used to the cold! I’m dying to finally get some better weather! I don’t do well in the cold lol please stay warm!!!!!! Cold and windy is a dangerous combo for colds!!!
I ended up watching a few videos from The Korean Vegan!!! This will genuinely help me a lot with food ideas because I don’t eat meat! I haven’t eaten meat since I was 11 or 12. I’m 18 now so it’s been AWHILE and a lot of testing different foods! Watching the food videos really made my stomach growl lol!!!
I hope your week starts to get a lot better! You are always very kind and sweet and so I hope things start looking up :) you know my ask box and dms are always open!
Have a good day sheepie!!
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Oh! P.s
I wanted to ask if you currently have any favorite stray kids songs! I am always curious to ask this of people!!!
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jinxxedwammys · 3 years
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In celebration of 100 followers I present to you
Wammy boys in oddly specific AUs I found on pinterest and stuff.
Warnings: Swearing (mostly in Mello’s part as usual lol)
L
"I mistook you for my best friend and jumped on your back in public and now I'm embarrassed"
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It was during the Kira case when L was closely investigating Light Yagami at To-Oh University that this extremely awkward encounter occurred. The sun was high in the sky, locusts and could be heard and cherry blossom littered the wide walkway leading into the school.
You had your heavy bag slung across your shoulders. It was filled with textbooks and papers (some of which you had forgotten to turn in) as well as a few personal items. You weren't really paying much attention to your surroundings until you spotted one of your male friends!
You hadn't seen him since the beginning of high-school. To say you were excited was an understatement. In your excitement you took a running jump onto his back knocking him to the ground. He let out a yelp and that was when you realized...
This man was NOT your friend.
"Oh my God I'm so sorry I thought you were someone else" you hurriedly said pushing yourself up and on your knees an apparent redness in your face.
He seemed to be unbothered for the most part, he turned to you, crouching in a sort of fetal position.
"It's alright I understand" He replied.
"No, no its not.. I'm an idiot I should have realized" you shoved your face into your hands covering how red your face now was.
"It is alright, I'm uninjured and it was an honest mistake" you frowned a little not entirely trusting his forgiveness, but this time, you took it.
He gave you a polite smile before standing up and helping you to your feet. He wished you a good day, and left, but not before sneaking a note containing his alias and phone number.
Mello
"I lost my little sibling Matt in Ikea and I need your help finding them"
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"Fuck.... Shit... Motherfucker" You heard from the other side of the store shelf as you browsed through various decor items. This mystery person had been spewing profanities for the past five minutes. You sighed with slight annoyance placing the wooden model hand you had been staring at for God knows how long back, making your way to the neighboring isle.
"Hey, you've been cursing up a storm... what's going on?" You asked, hand on your hip awaiting a response. Mello looked up at you with a look of anger and exhaustion on his face.
"I'm looking for my idiot friend. He got hopelessly lost in the chair section and I've been trying to find him for like an hour now" He ran a hand through his hair pushing his bangs to the sides of his face.
"I can help you look for him!" You offered.
"You don't have to"
"I want to! I don't really have anything else to do, so it's fine. To be completely honest I don't know why I came here." He shrugged. "Oh my name's Y/N by the way"
"I'm Mello" He replied before setting off out of the isle leaving you to sprint a but to catch up. His pace was fast and he seemed to have some plan on how to tackle this, but you weren't exactly sure.
After what seemed like an eternity of silently weaving through the labyrinth of shelves and furniture displays, you spoke up.
"So... how old is your friend?"
"We're both 19... His name is Matt." You kept walking until he stopped directly in front of the office showroom section.
"He might be here, so keep an eye out for a tall brunette idiot with goggles." You nodded keeping close to Mello. Again you snaked through isles. Eventually your search devolved into looking into cabinets, drawers, anything that would open, but to no avail.
"Where the fuck is he?" Mello said under his breath as he slammed shut another cabinet.
That was when a tall brunette wearing goggles walked by dual wielding hotdogs... You sighed heavily before approaching Matt.
"Matt?" You called out gaining the attention of both Matt and Mello. Mello stood beside you before going on to scold his friend almost as if he were an unruly child.
"Sorry about that I hope looking for him wasn't that unbearable... would you like to meet up sometime again in the future?" Mello asked. You nodded in response.
"I'd love to! This was quite fun actually. Though let's not go to an ikea next time."
Near
"We both like walking In the park at night and I think you're a stalker so I accidentally attack you"
🤖🎲🃏🪀🤖🎲🃏🪀🤖🎲🃏🪀🤖🎲🃏🪀🤖🎲🃏🪀🤖🎲🃏🪀🤖
It was 2am, the night was calm yet you were restless nothing you tried allowed you to fall asleep. It was like this most nights. You would then go to the park near your house to get some fresh air and tire yourself out... and on a night like this, that seemed like a perfect idea. You didn't even change out of your pajamas before you left. As you entered the park, you felt... odd. As if someone was watching you and sure enough, as you turned your head to look behind you you saw a man following about two yards behind you.
Naturally your thoughts went wild with what ifs and possible escape plans. Yet you calmed your mind opting to check if this guy was really following you. With every corner you turned your heart sank. Panic started to set in and you rushed to get together an improvised weapon.... Your housekey! You gripped it tightly in your hand as if it were a knife and swiftly approached the man going to jab him in the eye, yet he caught your arm with ease, turning it behind you and pushing you to the ground, similarly to how a police officer would apprehend a resistant assailant.
"Why did you attack me" he questioned, plopping down just above your hips.
"Let me go, stalker!!!" You yelled at him thrashing around attempting to escape his grasp.
"What are you talking about? I'm not stalking you." He calmly said.
"That's exactly what a stalker would say! Let me go!" He sighed lifting himself off of you and crouching beside you. You rolled over and sat with your legs crossed.
"I swear to you, I was only out for a walk. I take nighttime walks sometimes, though this was the first time I've been in this park."
"Then how come every time I turned you followed?"
"I did? I'm sorry, I didn't even realize" He stated plainly. You sighed he seemed truthful.
"Fine... I'm sorry too, I probably shouldn't have assumed you were a stalker or something and attacked you" you admitted. He shook his head.
"It's alright, I understand... I can be scary" you snorted and laughed. The light of the nearby streetlamp lit his features. A frail, sweet looking man with long white hair who seemed to be somewhat reserved. You felt a little silly that you thought someone like him would hurt you much.
"You're not scary... In all honesty you're quite cute!" You admitted, reaching out a finger to poke his nose.
"Thanks, you're actually quite cute as well, maybe we could meet up here in the morning?" He suggested.
Matt
"I come here when I want to be alone and I didn't think anyone knew about it so where the hell did you come from"
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This day was aweful. Work was extremely stressful. Your coworker put important documents in the shreader for the 10th time that week and you were the one tasked with rewriting, tracking down, requesting new copies and piecing together ones that couldn't be recovered otherwise. And of course your boss made every minute of it a nightmare. So after work, you drove to your favorite place. An abandoned warehouse off the highway about 5 minutes from your house.
It was virtually untouched by people now that the walls were covered in graffiti and the place had been ransacked for leftover valuable items. You made your way inside noticing something was off... there was a leather couch that wasn't yours, a coffee table... even a TV and game console plugged into a power supply, another handheld game on the coffee table next to an ashtray with a few cigarette butts, one of which was still smoking.
You were beyond confused. From the last time you were here someone had basically moved in... it had only been a week since you last came here. You warily approached the couch. Well... whoever left it here probably won't mind! you thought I just hope they didn't sabotage it or something. You then sat down noting that it was a perfectly normal couch and you were just paranoid.
That was when a guy came in, he was tall and lenky, had brown hair and was dressed in a striped shirt, a frankly hideous vest with fur lining, black pants and goggles atop his head. He had been holding a can of coke and a cigarette, yet those were both dropped as he saw you.
"Who are you?" He half shrieked.
"Who are YOU? You yelled back.
"I asked first!"
"My name is Y/N.. I come here all the time when I'm stressed and want to be alone I didn't think anyone else knew about it"
"S..Same but.. I come here to get away from a friend of mine... he can be quite aggressive and it's scary" He sat down beside you picking up his handheld game. "Oh and my name is Matt!"
"Hmm.. then let's share this space from now on, Matt!" He nodded in agreement.
"Yea! I hope we meet again soon"
Beyond Birthday
"We live in the same apartment complex and I accidentally leave my laundry in the washer for a minute too long and you decide to take out all my wet clothes to put yours in just as I walk in"
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It was late night. You had been putting off laundry for the past week, but now you were down to a pair of underwear and your nightgown, so you had to do your wash.. you reluctantly gathered your clothes and made your way to the communal washer and dryer. You threw your clothes in and put a coin in the coinslot then set the washer to start.
You sighed and made your way back to your room to relax a little while your clothes were still washing. It had been about two hours and your laundry was probably done. The timer you had set went off and you gathered yourself and brought the remainder of your clothes as well as your box of dryer sheets.
The moment you walked in your eyes widened in horror. Some odd man sat frantically pulling your clothes out of the washer onto the dirty floor.
"What the hell are you doing??!!" You yelled rushing over to stop him. He peered up at you from his crouching position.
"You left your clothes in too long, its my turn now" You blinked
"Only for a few minutes... it just got done less than 5 minutes ago.. now my clothes are all dirty again.. damn it"
"Sorry" He said. His beady eyes were wide and innocent looking. "I'll let you do yours again... I'll pay" He said before shoving yours back in and starting it again.
When that was done he pulled a jam jar out of seemingly nowhere and perched on top of the washer dipping his hand inside the jar and licking his fingers clean of jam. It was disgusting... But you decided to not pay any more attention to it than you had to.
The rest of the time you spent with him was in silence, all you heard was the washer and his lip-smacking. When the washer finished you silently transferred your clothes to the dryer.. this time without your oddball fellow tenant interfering much. Though when he got his own clothes in he did crawl away which freaked you out.
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reidjumpers · 3 years
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silver platter
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Spencer Reid x Reader
Warning/Includes: none! Spencer being happy
Summary: Spencer meeting your family for the first time
Note: this idea pop up out of nowhere. he is truly every in law's dream dare i say.
There was a line of dust flour across your face, Spencer noticed. There was laughter and pure happiness hanging in the air. It made him both fuzzy and dizzy, an odd combination that he couldn’t really tell why it was there in the first place.
When you had told him that your parents invited him to join your family gathering, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go. He had met your parents two times in total throughout his life before, once as a federal agent and a coworker and once as a good friend of yours. It would be his third now, and for most, they wouldn’t be as nervous as he would be when the prospect popped up for the third time.
But this time, he would face your parents as a man who loved you with all of his heart, a man who proudly called himself your boyfriend over and over.
You had warned him this morning that while he had met your parents twice, he hadn’t met the rest of your extended family before. A harmless warning that you had come from a big family with aunts who love to pester new people with a bunch of questions and cousins who love to poke some fun here and there. You had warned him, with the most serious look you could muster that did nothing to him but made him want to laugh at the way you tiptoe to make yourself look taller, nose scrunched adorably, that while your family are good, they could be draining.
Spencer had just smiled. Placing a chaste kiss to your forehead in order to mask his own unnerving nervousness brewing at the pit of his stomach. It was endearing that when it should be him who worried about this whole ordeal of meeting your whole extended family for the first time, it was you who took all the downfall and stressing out about his own comfort. He kissed you again, to reassure you that it would be fine, while gently tucking away his own worry so you don’t have to worry about anything else.
His worry and nervousness almost immediately melted away when he entered your parents’ threshold. Your mother smiled and lit up brighter than a Christmas tree when she spotted you hand-in-hand with him. Spencer’s eyes widened in both surprise and delight as your mother embraced him like he was one of her own, welcoming you and ushered you both inside.
It was hard for his nervousness or any unpleasant feeling to grow inside. All of them are lovely people who had loved you twice as much, and consequently, had extended their love for him too with a wide welcoming arm. It was hard for him not to fall into the warmth of a familial love when he saw you surrounded by it, a bright smile on your face as you reminisced childhood stories with your cousins, or letting out defensive screeches when your mother pulled out an old photo album.
You were such a cute kid, he thought, and an even cuter adult now.
He found himself bombarded with innocents, endearing questions from your aunts. It was hard for him not to smile and laugh, as they ask about his favorite food and insist on knowing his input on their cooking. He found himself cackling at the game of wild play tag your nieces and nephews conduct, engaged in a really competitive monopoly game with your cousins, and had a nice small talk with your siblings. It made him crave to have a family of his own.
From the corner of his eyes, he caught you smiling at him as he sat in the middle of the living room. Your nieces and nephews surrounded him like he was the center of the universe, eyes wide with anticipation and excitement as he hung his magic trick in the air. A loud, excited squeal broke as he pulled a string of cards from behind your niece’s ear, and a loud clap and booming laughter coming from the adults made his heart swell.
When he sat and watched you moving around the kitchen with your sister and your cousins, talking animatedly and eagerly about trying a recipe you had always wanted to try, he wondered why he had to be worried in the first place. He sat down at the kitchen counter, tried his best to ignore the whiff smell of freshly baked cookies waiting to cool off in the counter and barely registering your brother slipped into the empty seat next to him, when he was so busy thinking that he was sitting there as no one but a boy who loved you with all of his heart.
When the day finally set and the night slowly came, the excitement had worn out a little bit. The little kids now had ushered into empty rooms, asleep, and tired from running around for the whole day. He found himself sitting in the living room with your father pressing a drink into his hand.
Spencer glanced into the brandy on his hand, bracing himself for the stern talk coming from your father. He remembered Morgan had mentioned it once to him in a teasing manner when he revealed he’d visited your family for the weekend that some fathers are protective and unkind to boyfriends.
“I’m glad that Y/N is coming with you,” your father instead started the conversation with an easy opening like that. Spencer glanced up from his drink with a barely concealed surprise, didn’t expecting such a statement coming when he had been preparing himself for another.
Spencer took a small sip into his drink to ground himself. “It’s honestly an honor that you invited me.”
Your father smiled. He remembered him as a really good man, although barely talked to strangers, but he didn’t make himself look unwelcome or cold to him when he first met him. You had mentioned to him that it took a while for him to warm up to new people, and Spencer couldn’t blame him for the fact that he did take his time too.
“You’re a really good man, Spencer. And if my child were to date any man, I am glad that it’s you.”
Spencer took a sharp breath, gently fiddled with his glass to calm down his erratic heart. Your father had just handed him his approval like it was nothing. A big trust and honor that most probably would work their ass off to have, handed to him on a silver platter.
“I promise I’ll protect Y/N with all my life, Sir.”
“You know Y/N doesn’t need a protection,” your father cocked an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Y/N has always been a fierce and strong child who can handle themselves. If anything, they just need a reminder not to carry the burden of the world alone. You just have to convince them to share the weight with you.”
He nodded, agreeing. Then the conversation flowed like a river after that. He talked about his mother and your father talked about his job and some wild stories coming from it. You emerged from the kitchen fifteen minutes into the conversation, blinking when you spotted him laughing together in an easy conversation with your father, and smiled.
The clock had struck midnight when he found himself laying on your childhood bed in your old room, staring into the ceiling littered with constellation stickers that were haphazardly put. It had been a long day and the exhaustion from the day slowly catching up to him.
“Hey,” you said, whispering as you nuzzled closer to him. There was a line of dust flour across your face, Spencer noticed. And you smelled like cinnamon.
“Hi,” he whispered, shifting closer to you. Although the day had been well-spent in his humble opinion, he couldn’t help but to notice he was mostly away from you and now he is aching to be with you.
And bless your heart, you understand him without a word needed to be said. You moved yourself close to him, hand easily snaking around his torso as your head found its way to the crook his neck. “How was your day?”
“Lovely,” Spencer answered quickly. “I teach Lily some of my magic tricks.”
You huffed at the mention of your niece, frowning at the fact he was so deliberately sharing his magic trick he guarded from anyone but your niece, apparently. Spencer ducked down to kiss your forehead, smiling when you drew a half-hearted pattern on his chest.
“What were you talking about with dad, by the way?”
Spencer’s mind flew to the conversation that he had earlier, his mind replayed the conversation over and over. He smiled as he pulled you closer to him, squeezing your figure slightly. “Nothing. Just an honor handed to me on a silver platter.”
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luimagines · 3 years
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They react to you having a breakdown Part 2
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Masterlist
Part 1
Part 2 will include Time, Twilight, Wind and Four.
Content until the cut!
Time
Time... had an off feeling.
There was a charged energy in the group but he couldn’t pin point where it was coming from or how to break it.
It was just this looming mass of some metaphorical dark cloud over some of the group. There was a tense atmosphere and it was enough to make him uncomfortable- enough to make him feel like he was walking on eggshells.
As the group traveled, it grew in intensity and he was sure he was approaching the source of the tension.
It was you.
Weirdly.
Time was immediately concerned. He knew you to be the most calm and mild tempered of the group and typically in a good mood. If something was bothering you, it must have been beyond important and he wanted to help in whatever way he could.
He tried to maneuver what he could around the boys and single you out, taking you aside and staying at your side for a trail.
The mood of the boys lifted somewhat but Time could feel the intensity of your emotion now that he was right beside you. He moved the both of you to the back of the group and let the boys move ahead without the two of you.
Time had stopped and placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you as well. “Are you well? What seems to be the problem?”
Your head fell, as if it was only being held by a string that had just been cut. “I’m fine.”
You, in fact, not fine.
Your voice was the smallest Time had ever heard, it was not as strong as you were trying to convey and it sounded only seconds from breaking entirely.
Time takes in a control and long breath.
“What did I say about the lying?” Time gently turns you around so that you’re face to face with him and places his other hand on your other shoulder.
“Only do it if you can pull it off.” Your voice cracks.
Time hums a bit, trying to not laugh too much at your answer. That is not what he said about lying. But he’ll let you have this one.
“Not quite.” Time dips down a bit so he can look in the eyes a little more properly. “If you have any grievances, now’s the time to get it off your chest. I won’t tell the others.”
You sniffle and try to continue to hold yourself together. But it’s in vain.
Within seconds you crumble and all but throw yourself into his arms, wrapping your around his torso with a vice like grip. Your sobs are quiet to even Time’s ears but the strength you use against him and to pull in your breaths is enough to tell him that perhaps you’ve hurting for a while.
He hugs you back without hesitation and places his head on top of yours while you cry.
Twilight makes a come back as Wolfie but Time’s quick to shoo him away.
The last thing you need an audience.
But it’s ok. He’s got you. Let it out. He’ll hold you until you’re done.
Twilight
Wolfie was patrolling the perimeter during his night shift when he sees you storm away from the camp. You’re breathing heavily and there’s an iron grip on your fists.
He pauses and watches you from the shadows.
You take a long breath and press the heels of your hands into your eyes. You stay in that position for a moment before he hears you whine and fall to your knees.
He pads over to you quietly and steps on a twig or two to let you know he’s near.
You don’t react, so now he knows you’re in a state.
He whines quietly and pokes your hands with his nose. You sniffle loudly and pull your hands away. “...Wolfie”
Oh. 
Oh. 
Wolfie doesn’t know how he can fix this.
He gulps slightly and pushes your hands even further away with his nose. You pet him absentmindedly and gulp in a breath.
Twilight doesn’t like seeing you in pain but he has no idea what might have caused this. Nightmare? Bad memories? He was sure you were asleep earlier.
“I don’t know what to do Wolfie.” Your voice cracks and you break down into sobs. You’re not even trying to be quiet or hold back anymore. Twilight doesn’t know what exactly you’re talking about. You were fine ealier... But he supposes that this is merely an accumulation of built up emotions.
Twilight forces himself into your personal space and presses himself against the crook of your neck.
You’re quick to hug him with as much force as you can manage and sob into his fur.
Twilight feel his heart bleed for you and lets you hold him. You run your fingers through his fur and press your head into his with as much force as you need as you cry.
Twilight almost wants to transform back to him you properly but he holds back. He doubts that Twilight would get as much as an reaction as Wolfie would and he seen enough of Wild’s episodes that this is something only an animal would be able to properly fill the role for.
He stays in that position for what feels like hours and it takes him a second to realize that you cried yourself back to sleep.
He transform back to his human form on the spot and picks you up in his arms. You’re light and the tear steaks hit him differently than he thought it would when he gets back to the fire light. 
He gently puts you back on your bed roll and pulls your blanket up to your shoulders. Twilight makes quick work of tucking you in and makes sure that you’re still warm even if you were to shift in your sleep.
He stands up with a sigh and dusts his pants off.
He looks around the camp.
I’ll stay, he thinks to himself. 
The perimeter was secure anyway, he’s not sure if anyone else will wake up tonight and need a shoulder to cry on.
Wind
Wind was busy exploring the immediate area around the camp since Time said they were allowed to.
Which basically means that two thirds of the group split up and scattered.
He had a laugh on his breath as he dashed through the various trees and tried to not get too lost. Wind didn’t want to be too far from the group but he also found that there was too much just in the horizon that was calling to him.
That is... until he thought he heard something.
Wind instantly stops in his tracks and strains to hear through the environmental noises around him.
No, yeah, he wasn’t hearing things. Someone is nearby and crying
Where though?
Wind is a little, ok very concerned by the sounds. So he crept through the foliage towards it. He knew that Wild had told him of some Yiga people who tried to lure him by crying and getting him to ask them what’s wrong....and he didn’t feel very equipped to deal with them right now.
He crept closer and held his breath.
Only to gasp when he saw that it was you who was crying.
He bit his lip and thought about what to do. It was obvious that you came all this way to be alone and not be seen. But it didn’t sit right with him to leave alone now that he’s seen you. He knows that he’s a bad actor and there’s no way that he’d be able to pretend that he didn’t see anything.
He steps on a twig.
Your head shoots up and you manage to look directly at him.
“Oh.” You gulp and begin to wipe your eyes as fast as you can, as if that would change what he’s seen and get rid of the evidence. “Wind... I didn’t see you there. Does Time need something? Do we need to head back?”
He looks behind him in case anyone else is nearby. When he sees no one, he takes a step towards you instead and takes a seat next to you. “Not to my knowledge, no. What’s wrong?”
“It’s not-” You take a breath. It’s shaky and you can’t seem to complete the sentence before you curl into yourself again and let a whine. 
Wind feels awkward. He can see how tense you are from trying to hold yourself back, and he knows it’s because he’s there. He wants to let it all out and feel better but he’ll awful if he leaves you now.
Wind gathers his courage and maneuvers so that he’s kneeling in front of you. He puts his hand son your shoulder and pushes you upwards. You let him with a saddened but curious expression. There’s more tears on your cheeks and Wind nearly wants to cry from the sight of it alone.
He shoves his way forward and hugs you as hard as he can. It’s quiet between the both of you for a hot minute before Wind dips his head into the crook of your neck. “...It’s ok to cry... I won’t tell anyone.”
It breaks the dam and you hug him back. Not as hard as he’d be willing to let you or as hard as he thinks you want to, but he’ll take it.
His shoulder instantly begins to dampen and he holds you through it.
He doesn’t know what caused this and he doubts you’ll share it with him, but at least he can let you know that he’s there for you.
Four
Four has been walking by your side for a while and he’s been the edge the entire time.
He doesn’t know why he’s so uncomfortable and for a moment he thinks he’s imagining things. You’ve always been a source of comfort and a great conversationalist, there’s rarely a moment of silence when you’re around and it’s something he feels well acquainted with.
But now you’re silent.
Four wants to ask you something, anything, to make sure that you’re ok and that you’re not upset with him. But he doesn’t know where to start or how to not make it awkward.
“Hey.” Four says your name and pulls on your sleeve gently to get your attention. “What’s up? You ok?”
You nod and smile.
It doesn’t reach your eyes.
“You don’t look like you’re ok.” Four gulps and grabs your hand before you can start moving away.
He can see your jaw flex for a second before you shrug and look away from him. you shake him off slightly and begin to walk away. “Stop looking then.”
“No, no, no, you’re not getting away from me that easily. But seriously, what’s wrong?” Four begins to chase after you. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“It’s nothing Four. I’ll be fine. Drop it.” 
Well he doesn’t like that at all.
He only filled with concern and spite and he’s determined to be a decent friend even if it kills him in the end.
“Well... If you ever want to talk about it...” Four trails off and shrugs in return, keeping your pace with ease. 
“I don’t think I could if I wanted to.” You mutter to yourself. He’s sure that he wasn’t supposed to hear that but it’s too late.
Four leans over to look at your face through your hair over your eyes. “I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks Smithy, I know.” 
You both continue to walk in silence for moment longer before he sees that your pace is slowing down considerably. You’re beginning to curl in yourself and grip your belt tightly.
Four is concerned even more now and places his hand on your back. He’s at a lost for words at what’s happening to you. You don’t seem to be hurt physically given how long you’ve already been traveling but now he knows he’s right.
Something’s wrong.
“What’s wrong?”
“So much.” You choke up and fall to your knees. Four collapses with you and bring you against his chest. He’s quick to hold you tight as you descend in loud and unrestrained despair. Four can’t get any more words out of you even if your emotions are laid bare for both him and the heavens to witness.
He’s glad that the other’s aren’t around at the moment but someone’s going to come check on you eventually. Whether it’s one of the two pairs behind you or someone turns back to investigate the amount of nose you’re making.
It’s not looking good either way for a lack of audience but Four’s not inclined to rush you. It’s not good to rush these things.
So he lets you cry against him and he run his fingers through your hair, rubbing circles on your back at the same time to try and calm you.
It’s fine. You need a moment.
You’ll get your moment. Four will make sure of it. 
If anyone asks, they’ll answer to him and you can avoid people for as long as you need. 
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
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Eunoia - Harry Styles
a/n: i’ve been meaning to write a piece filled with just fluffy, domestic moments through a relationship, and that’s when i created Flora in my mind. wrote it with an OC bc i had very specific traits and stuff in my mind about her and it didn’t feel right to write it with y/n but feel free to read however you’d like it! but i think Flora is a delightful girl, she is a teacher and a free spirit, i think you’ll like her!
pairing: Harry x OC (Floortje ‘Flora’ Hoven)
word count: 9.5k
masterlist
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Eunoia (n.) Beautiful thinking: a well mind.
Harry is always looking forward to times when his days aren’t filled from morning to midnight, traveling all around the world, meeting dozens of new people at various new meetings. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the buzz his life comes with, but one can drive this lifestyle only for a while before getting tired. He now appreciates his calm periods, when he is not living out of his suitcase, he has the time to drop by a café and enjoy his morning coffee sitting down instead of grabbing it in a go-to cup and chugging it down in his car. When he can just take a walk when the weather is nice enough and his favorite is when he has the time to just look at things without a rush and appreciate them.
He has built up a habit of going to the same coffee place since he got off tour and jumped right into his well-deserved months off filled with meditation, resting and focusing on himself after giving so much for the world. It’s just two corners down his place, falling perfectly into his way to the gym and now he even has a favorite table in the corner, because it gives him a great view of the place but the vines hanging from the ceiling masks his presence enough that people don’t often notice him there, providing some privacy for his morning coffee.
It was his third day here when he first noticed her. She was sitting at the table by the window, near the door, deep in a book, another pile waiting for her on the free seat next to her as she intensely made notes of her reading. She had her wild, curly hair in a puffy bun on the top of her head, clearly just thrown into it haphazardly when she started working. Her ivory frame glasses kept sliding down the bridge of her nose and thy seemed a bit too big for her face, but they overall fit perfectly with her knitted sweater and dungarees. And Harry couldn’t look over the fact that she had little sunflowers painted on her nails. That instantly made him smile as he adorned her from afar.
As the days passed and Harry spent almost all his morning at the same spot, he started seeing or more like noticing her more often. She always sat at the same table and Harry figured it was because of the natural lighting coming through the windows that came in handy, because she was always either reading and making notes, or doing something crafty, mostly origami, he noticed. She often had her laptop open with tutorials on different origami works that she was trying to make herself, not always succeeding, but she got it right most of the time, a triumphant smile plastering across her face every time she finished a piece, her dimples digging deep into her round cheeks. Harry couldn’t stop herself from smiling whenever she held up the finished work and adorned what she just created. He often wondered what happened to the little creations afterwards, but she just usually shoved them into her backpack before leaving.
By the fifth or sixth time he has seen her, he already knew her order. Vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Large sized, of course, so she has something to sip on while she typed away on her laptop or finished reading another book.
Harry caught himself looking for her on mornings when he didn’t see her, which were usually Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, but one Wednesday, when he had an early meeting for a change with his team, he arrived before 8 am into the place and for his biggest surprise, there she was, sitting at her usual table, drinking the same drink as always. Later, Harry found himself coming earlier on those days just to find her there yet again and he figured her work schedule must start earlier on those days.
As the days went by Harry started to play with the thought of walking up to her. He wondered if she has noticed him as well, but it seemed like even if she did, his presence didn’t impress or bother her at all which just irked his curiosity about her even more. But every time he thought about finally talking to her, he decided against it, feeling like he would just be an intruder in her morning sessions. Until one day, the chance was handed to him on a silver plate.
She is doing origami once again on this particular day, making little cranes, one after the other, using different colored papers to make them form out a mess rainbow on her table. It’s a quiet morning, only a few more people sitting around at place. It’s been quite windy the past couple of days and today seems to be the worst, the trees are being tossed around by the howling winds outside, but it just makes it even cozier to sit inside in the warmth, enjoying a nice hot drink.
Harry finds himself watching her intently as her delicate fingers work on the paper, one crane following the other, she is starting to have a whole army of them.
An older man walks into the café and as he opens the door wide, the wind is quick to run into the place, knocking over everything that’s not heavy enough to stay still and the paper cranes are the first ones to start flying off the table.
“No! Darn it!” she gasps, her hands grabbing after them, saving just a few, but most end up on the floor, somersaulting away from her table. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and come to her rescue, lending her a pair of helping hands as she gathers her creations. “Oh, thank you!” she breathes out softly, her eyes meeting his and for his biggest surprise… she doesn’t seem to be stunned or even surprised by him, as if she doesn’t know who he is.
Maybe she doesn’t, it’s a possibility, he tells himself, smiling at her as he collects the cranes from the floor.
“Guess they wanted to be free,” he jokes, setting them on the table with the rest.
“It wasn’t my brightest idea to do it on such a windy day near the door,” she chuckles, looking over the bunch she’s been working on for the past thirty minutes.
“May I ask why you need so many paper cranes?” Harry inquires, leaving out the part that he’s been watching her do her origami for weeks now.
“Oh, I want to make decorations out of them, hang them up in my classroom. I’m a teacher,” she adds smiling.
That’s the most fitting job he could ever imagine for her, she is definitely the cool and adored teacher every kid is obsessed with.
“Wow, and how many do you need?” he asks, the stack of paper at the edge of the table looks quite a lot and he wonders if she wants to use them all for the cranes.
“Well, as many as I can make before my fingers fall off,” she jokes. Harry notices her freckles from up close that have been hidden behind her glasses until now. Her hair is in two space buns today and she is wearing a striped shirt with light-washed jeans and colorful sneakers. The sunflowers are gone from her nails, replaced by tiny daisies, but Harry likes them just as much as the previous flowers. They fit her well.
“Do you… I would love to help, if you want,” he finds himself offering, not even thinking about the question before it slips his mouth.
“You sure?” she asks, seemingly surprised but she definitely doesn’t find it weird that he just offered to help her.
“Yeah. Looks really calming and I haven’t made one in so long. Want to see if I still remember the steps,” he smiles.
“Take a seat then,” she nods, returning his smile. Harry goes back to his table to grab his stuff and join her.
“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduces himself as he takes the empty chair at her table, holding out his hand for her that she gladly takes.
“Floortje, but everyone just calls me Flora,” she smiles.
“Never heard that name, what’s the origin of it?”
“It’s Dutch. My dad is Dutch, he came up with the name as well and my mother liked it. It means little flower, nothing grandiose,” she chuckles, reaching for another paper to start her next crane.
“Do you have a Dutch last name as well?” he asks, but then realizes she might not feel comfortable sharing her full name just yet. “You don’t have to tell me your last name though, if you don’t want to.”
“It’s alright,” she chuckles. “It’s Hoven, which is Dutch, but you pronounce it pretty much the same as you’d if it was a simple English word, just with a softer V in the middle,” she explains, her fingers working easily and fast on the thin paper, the crane is already starting to form. Harry reaches for a paper himself and tries to recollect his memory of the steps.
“Were you born in the Netherlands too?”
“Yes, I was born in Eindhoven, but we moved here when I was five. But my Dutch is still just fine, luckily. My dad refused to talk to me in English when we moved, he said he won’t have his daughter forget her mother tongue just because he is getting paid more here,” she explains with a soft chuckle as she finishes up the crane, putting it to the pile.
“I always envied bilingual people. Must be great to speak two languages that easily,” Harry wonders, eyes fixed on the paper as he is trying his best with the crane. It’s slowly coming together, though it’s not as pretty as Flora’s.
“It’s not that fun when I suddenly forget a word in one of the languages and then spend twenty minutes trying to remember when I know for a fact I know the words, it’s just stuck on my tongue.”
Harry laughs, finishing up his creation, holding it up and Flora looks at it as well. It’s a little crooked and one of its wings is longer than the other, but overall, it’s a decent first one.
“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to,” he chuckles, putting it to the others.
“What are you talking about? It looks great!” she smiles, taking it into her hand, looking at it from all angles, smiling widely as she places it back to its peers. “It’s a nice one, and after all, it’s not your job to make cranes, so you’re fine,” she jokes.
Harry reaches for another paper as he thinks about if she knows him. Does she know what his job really is? Not that he expects everyone to know him, but she seems his age and it’s been quite impossible for him to meet someone close in age to him and not know a thing about him.
“Yeah, origami is definitely not my job,” he hums and then adds: “You… know what my job is?”
Flora glances up at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.
“Is this your way of trying to find out if I know you or not?” she smirks, tilting her head to the side, and it’s already a giveaway that she is very much aware of who she is sitting at a table with.
“I know, it was lame,” he huffs awkwardly.
“No, it was alright. And to answer your question, I do know what your job is, Harry Styles,” she replies.
“Sorry for asking around about it, you just seemed so casual and unbothered when you saw me, I thought you have no idea who I am.”
“I’m a teacher, my job is to treat everyone the same, I take equality very seriously. I don’t want my kids to think I put any of them above the rest, but I do the same outside of school too. Or do you want me to gasp and stutter now that you are sitting here?” she teases him making him laugh.
“That’s not needed at all.”
They work on their cranes in a comfortable silence and just as Harry thought, it’s quite relaxing, his thoughts slowly clear out, only focusing on the little birds he is creating. Then he glances up at Flora and suddenly his thoughts are filled with her once again. Now is his chance with her, he doesn’t want to leave this café without at least asking for her number even when he knows that he will surely see her around, just like always.
“Can I ask you something?” he speaks up as they both keep folding the colorful papers.
“Of course.”
“I hope I won’t sound creepy or something, but I’ve seen you around a lot and noticed how much you read. Is that just your hobby or…?”
“First of all it’s not creepy that you have noticed me, it’s flattering, because I have noticed you as well,” she smiles, paying him a quick glance.
“Really? I had a feeling you haven’t even seen me.”
“I did, but I thought you come here for the same reason as I do; to have some peace for yourself.”
“Ah, I see,” Harry nods.
“But to answer your question, I’m working on my second degree.”
“Oh, what’s that about?”
“Special education, speech therapy to be exact,” she tells him and Harry is even more stunned by her. Education is already a field not many can handle and then there is Flora, who didn’t just take up on it, she jumped right into it, pursuing a second degree in special education, a hard and challenging part of this job.
“Any particular reason why you chose it?”
“I have a younger brother, he is ten years younger than me, so he was already born here, but he was taught Dutch too. However, it wasn’t as easy for him as it was for me to speak two languages at the same time and he has developed some speech errors. Nothing major, but it was enough for him to be bullied in school. I saw his face every day when he came home and lied to our parents that everything is fine but then he cried to me in my room when they weren’t around. I don’t want any other kids to go through that, I’d love to be the one to not just help them come over their speech errors but also make sure they are treated the same way as everyone else.”
Harry hasn’t even noticed that he stopped working on his crane, he is now staring at her in awe, completely stunned by her. The more he learns about her the more he thinks she is a literal angel sent from above and that he can’t let her slip from his hands.
Flora looks up at him and finds him staring, a blush appearing on her full cheeks.
“Sorry for staring, but I just… this is so beautiful. Your passion about education is just one of a kind, truly. And the way how you made it your whole career and everything, I’m just… blown away,” he admits.
“Well, you made a career out of your passion too, didn’t you?” she chuckles softly.
“I did, but your story is just a little more touching,” he smirks. “Flora, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been meaning to come up to you for a while and now that we officially met, I just—I would love to take you out on a date and get to know you better.”
She blushes again and Harry notes how well the pinky shade fits her even if she probably wishes she could control it more.
“That would be lovely,” she smiles shyly and grabbing a crane from her pile she grabs a pen from her bag and writes her number to the wing of it before handing it over to Harry.
He loves that she could have easily just typed it into his phone, yet she chose to do it this way. He smiles down at the crane and puts it into his bag, securing it as if it was his biggest treasure.
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When Flora opens her door for Harry she is still wearing her apron that’s filled with tulips, a pair of simple jeans underneath it with a bright yellow shirt. Harry smiles as he leans down and greets her with a soft kiss. Ever since their first kiss he has been obsessed with stealing one whenever he has the chance. Their first one was nothing grandiose, such a simple and mundane moment but for him, it was perfect. They were visiting a gallery, he chose the exhibition hoping she’ll be a fan of it since the theme was botany, all paintings connected to flowers, gardens and plants and he was right. Flora was stunned, fascinated by each painting as they stopped at one after the other, taking their time to adore the works. They were looking at a painted garden filled with colorful wildflowers around a small cottage in the distance. Flora’s eyes wandered over all the tiny details as Harry stood close to her. She then leaned closer to point out her favorite flower and once they realized just how close their faces were, he just easily closed the gap and kissed her softly, surrounded with art, but he was convinced she was his favorite masterpiece he has ever seen.
“Hi, sorry, I’m a little late, dinner is not ready yet,” she huffs letting him inside. “Had to stay at the school a little longer than expected.”
“Don’t worry. Can I help with anything?” he asks following her into the kitchen, putting the bottle of wine he brought into the fridge to keep it cool until dinner.
“No, it’s fine. I just need about fifteen minutes to finish up the veggies,” she smiles at him and tiptoeing she steals a quick kiss. Harry hasn’t been the only one obsessed with kisses. “Make yourself home.”
Harry leaves to use the bathroom quickly and on his way back he finds himself wandering into her bedroom. He has been in her home just a few times before, only spending short minutes here when he was picking her up but now he has time to actually look around, hoping she won’t mind him snooping around.
Her whole place is just as colorful as she is always, each piece of furniture a different style and color, yet fitting so well when you see it as a whole. The quilted patchwork blanket over her bed is definitely homemade, each patch has a different flower on it while the left lower corner has Floortje embroidered into it. Harry wonders if it was made by a friend or family member, either way, it’s surely a special piece.
Her dresser is cluttered with rings, perfumes and endless amount of hair ties. She has complained before that her hair stretches her elastics out so fast, she keeps buying new ones every month. The little armchair in the corner is covered with a few of her used clothes, ones she’ll wear once more before putting them into the laundry basket.
As he walks over to her nightstand that’s filled with books, at least seven piled on each other, his eyes stop over something that makes his heart flutter.
A crooked little paper crane is sitting on the edge of the nightstand, the one he made the first time they talked, to be exact. Harry takes the bird and looks at it in awe, surprised that she kept it to herself. However he doesn’t find it odd, not even a little bit, since he has also kept the one she wrote her phone number onto, it’s sitting on his desk in his study.
“Found something interesting?” Flora walks in and Harry’s head whips towards her, feeling like he was just caught. But the warm smile on her lips is a telltale sign that she doesn’t mind him looking around.
“You kept it,” he states matter-of-factly, holding up the paper bird.
“Of course I did,” she nods, walking closer. “It’s a special one.”
“Thought you treat everyone and everything the same,” he teases smiling as he puts the crane back, his hands finding her waist.
“I guess there are a few exceptions,” she smirks slyly, her hands running up on his arms until they reach the base of his neck.
“Am I an exception?” The corners of his mouth curl up as he places the bird back on her nightstand and circle his arms around her waist.
“Did I say that?” she teases him. “I think I called your work a special one.”
Harry narrows his eyes at her, pretending to be hurt at her words, but he can’t push the growing smile back from his lips. They’ve been seeing each other for only over a month, but it was enough time to make him completely hooked on her. He is amazed by her in every possible way, feeling like he could never get enough of the ray of sunshine that Flora is. His favorite thing is that she makes him feel so normal, just an average guy dating a girl he met at a café. Not once did she treat him any different because of what he is and it’s just the feeling Harry has been looking for for such a long time.
“Come on, dinner is ready,” she smiles, pecking his lips before peeling his arms off of her frame, taking his hand as she pulls him out of the bedroom, however they surely end up in there again sometime after dinner, but with way less clothes on.
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Harry watches as Flora plays with the bubbles in front of her, picking some foam up into her hair, watching it move around on her wet palm before blowing on it gently, her delicate fingers poking at the small bubbles that escaped from it. His hands are caressing her sides under the warm water that was once hot when they first got into it about an hour ago.
It’s been a lazy Sunday, Flora arrived early in the morning and went plant shopping. Her home has always been filled with plants and Harry has grown a liking to all the greenery, wanted some more in his house as well and Flora was more than happy to help him pick out the ones that are the easiest to take care of. Then they cooked lunch together, watched a movie and cleaned up the mess they made in the kitchen before running the bath. Harry has been loving these domestic days, lounging around his or her home, wearing comfy clothes and not caring about much of the outside words, just enjoying each other’s company.
“Remind me to buy peanut butter the next time I’m going grocery shopping,” she speaks up, leaning further back against his chest while Harry rests his chin on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her waist under the layer of bubbles.
“What do you need it for?” he hums, nudging her hair with his nose, her curls ticking his face, but he doesn’t mint it.
“I want to make cupcakes for the kids next week.”
“What for? Is there gonna be a special occasion?”
“No, they’ve just been super nice lately, we set up some new rules in the classroom and they’ve been really good following them.” Harry hums, loving how she is so eager to treat her students, he is convinced she is easily the best teacher he has ever came across.
“So peanut butter, huh? I think I need some too. Been dying to eat a good burger with some peanut butter.”
“I cannot believe you put peanut butter into your burgers,” she chuckles, peeking at him over her shoulder.
“Don’t bash it when you haven’t even tried!” he defends himself, kissing her cheek softly.
“The Aztecs would be so disappointed,” she sighs turning back forward, so she doesn’t see the puzzled look on Harry’s face.
“The Aztecs?”
“Yeah, they technically invented peanut butter,” she nods, as if it was common knowledge.
“Do I want to know why you know this about the history of peanut butter?” he chuckles softly.
“Well I had this kid last year who was obsessed with it and I started looking up fun facts for him for mornings when he looked a little moody. Then the others started enjoying it too so it became our morning thing that I told them a fun fact about anything.”
“Oh really? Tell me one then!” he asks smirking, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
“Okay, um…” she thinks to herself. “Do you know what the Olympic rings stand for?”
“I do not,” he shakes his head.
“The five rings stand for the five inhabited continents of the world, united by Olympism.”
“Sounds logical,” Harry nods. “Tell me another one,” he asks.
“Are you going to make me tell you all my fun facts?” she chuckles, turning a little so she can look into his beautiful green eyes.
“Maybe. I like it when you talk like this,” he smirks playfully.
“Like what?”
“Like… smart. I love how you know all these little things about the world and teach it to not just the kids but to me as well.”
“You don’t think I’m a smartass?”
“Why would I?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed.
“I used to be picked on in middle school because I liked to learn, more than what was required.”
“That doesn’t make you a smartass, baby. You don’t go around, correcting every tiny mistake around you. You use your knowledge to educate, like you should.”
Flora smiles softly at him, his words bringing the sense of reassurance she’s been seeking for so long. She pecks his lips shortly before turning back forward.
“Do you know how many days a billion seconds make up?” she asks, smiling to herself.
“I don’t.”
“11 574 days. That’s a little over 31 years.”
“So I haven’t lived a billion seconds in my life just yet,” Harry states, doing the quick math.
“No, you haven’t,” she smiles, mostly at the fact that he didn’t just listen to her little fun fact, but also thought about it a bit deeper.
They stay in the bath until the water gets cold and Harry keeps asking for fun facts and Flora gladly tells him whatever comes to her mind.
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Harry finishes up the fresh salad, filled with Flora’s favorites: cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and corn with some kale, baby spinach and garlic dressing. He even sprinkled some sesame seeds on top, now he is pretty proud of his work, it looks like something influencers would snap in an aesthetic photo to their Instagram feed.
His bare feet tap against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to Flora’s bedroom where she is still curled up on her chair in front of her computer, her hair in a mess on top of her head, glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. She hasn’t moved much from the spot in hours, intensely working on her thesis that should be finalized within the next two weeks. She has been gradually working on it over the last few months, in no mean she is behind, but she’s been extra nervous about making it as good as she wanted it when she started and Harry has been nothing but supporting about it, knowing how much it means to her. So he’s been her moral support, making sure she eats, gets some rest and doesn’t get herself too worked up about her research. She appreciates his efforts and though she often feels bad for neglecting him lately, he made sure to assure her, he’ll be right here when she is finally done with it.
Harry walks around the mountain of books on the floor she has piled up from the library these past two weeks as he walks up behind her while her fingers type away on her computer so fast he can barely believe she even understands what she’s typing.
“Hey,” he softly calls out, leaning down he kisses her cheek, holding the bowl of salad in front of her, drabbing her attention, making her gaze move from the screen to the food in front of her.
“Oh, hey! Is this for me?” she asks with a soft smile, lifting her head so she can look at him. Even with the circles under her eyes, the messy hair and worn out t-shirt that she’s wearing, he thinks she is the most wonderful creature he has ever seen.
“Yeah. Come take a break, yea?”
She doesn’t protest, just saves the file before moving away from the desk to the bed along with Harry. She props herself up against the headboard, a tired moan escaping her lips as her spine rests against the pillows under her back. Harry hands her the salad and she digs right into it, only just now realizing that she’s been feeling hungry for the past two hours, but ignored it entirely.
“How much do you have left?” Harry asks nodding towards the computer.
“I’m finishing up the last part, then I just have to write the abstract and then…” she explains, popping a tomato in her mouth. “It’s just gonna be the formatting. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday.”
“That’s great,” he smiles proudly. He has always admired how hardworking she’s been when it came to school and her profession. He could never imagine himself do the same, especially because he didn’t even finish high school. He used to feel a little self-conscious about it when they first started dating, afraid that she might think less of him because he didn’t finish his education properly, even though it was never something that bothered him. But Flora assured him that it makes absolutely no difference in her opinion about him.
“It’s not about the papers or how many schools you’ve finished. It’s about how you see the world and if you are willing to learn when it changes around you. And I think you are perfect in that department, your curiosity and openness makes you an excellent learner,” she told him without even thinking about it.
Harry lies on his side next to her, one hand propping his head up while the other one wanders to her thigh, massaging it gently. She hums to herself, enjoying the food he made and he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. He loves taking care of her, especially because most of the times it’s her that takes care of him. Cooking for him after a long day at the studio, putting his laundry away while he is in an online meeting or writing him a list for when he goes grocery shopping, Flora has been watching out for him through these little things, but now it’s finally his turn to give it all back.
He’s been thinking about asking her to move in with him for a few weeks now, he just hasn’t been brave enough to bring it up, thinking that she might find it too early for such a big step, seeing that the two of them have been dating for a little over nine months. He’s been playing with the thought of coming home to her every single day, waking up next to her in the mornings, watch her form his home more to her liking, creating a space for the both of them, making it a home not just for him but her as well.
As she finishes up her salad, completely oblivious to what Harry is thinking about, he decides to bring it up once she is done with her thesis, not wanting to bother her in any possible way until she is finished.
“Mm, this was lifesaving, thank you,” she sighs, leaning over she kisses him softly as her appreciation for the sweet gesture. “I’ll finish up this one paragraph I’m in the middle of and then we could watch a movie. But strictly without subs, because I’m done with words for today,” she jokes, making him laugh as he takes the empty bowl from her hands.
“Sounds good,” he nods. “I’ll clean up in the kitchen and find something to watch while you finish.”
“Thank you.” As they both get up from the bed, she pulls him down for another kiss, Harry’s free hand finding the small of her back right away. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips, his heart fluttering in his chest at the words he has heard before, but it never fails to stun him.
“I love you too. Now go, finish it so we can cuddle,” he smiles, smacking her bum gently before they let go of each other.
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“Ja, pappa. Dat klinkt fantastisch. Ik zal het hem vragen. Ja.” Yes, dad. That sounds fantastic. I’ll ask him. Yes.
Harry listens to Flora talk to her father on the phone as she applies her lip balm, the one she uses every night before going to bed. He loves it when she talks in Dutch, many tend to criticize the language, but not Harry. Or maybe it’s just because he only hears Flora talk it and he loves everything she does.
“Ja, dat is goed. Dank je. Tot ziens, pappa, ik hou van je!” Yes, that’s great. Thank you. See you soon, dad, love you!
She ends the call and switches the light off in the bathroom that’s been not just Harry’s but hers since she officially moved in with him just last week. Harry finally built up the courage to ask her opinion about the possibility of living together in the near future once she was free from the worries of her research and thesis. For his biggest surprise, she was on the exact same page as him, definitely a fan of the idea. So three weeks later they started slowly moving all her stuff over to his until her apartment completely emptied out. Now all her belongings are splattered across Harry’s home, they haven’t found the perfect place for everything just yet, but it’s slowly starting to feel like home for the both of them.
“Dad called, asked if we would go over for dinner this weekend,” she tells him, moving around the bedroom as she takes her little hoop earrings off, placing them in the shell she uses as a jewelry holder on top of the dresser. She is wearing a pair of yellow sweatpants with one of Harry’s shirts, nothing underneath them, just how Harry loves it.
“It’s cute how you always tell me it was your dad, but he is the only one you speak Dutch with,” he chuckles lowly as she climbs to bed, pulling the covers over the both of them.
“It comes so naturally, I don’t even realize I’m switching languages,” she admits smiling.
“Dinner sounds lovely,” he nods, getting back to what she was talking about before.
“Arnold is bringing his girlfriend too,” she smirks, her eyes sparkling from excitement.
“Your brother has a girlfriend now?” he hums, eyebrows rising at the new information.
“It’s the girl I saw him with at his basketball game last month. They made it official like two weeks ago.”
“And he is already bringing her home? He is not beating around the bush,” he chuckles. “Is it going to be the first time the girl meets your parents?”
“Yeah, so it’s gonna be exciting,” she nods, cuddling to his side.
Flora is playing with the little cross pendant on Harry’s chest and he is watching her delicate fingers flipping it over, her fingertips tickling his chest a little in the process.
“When we have kids, will you also teach them Dutch?” he suddenly questions, the words just blurting out of his mouth. Flora lifts her head, resting her chin on his chest as she looks into his curious eyes. She stays silent, but a small smile is tugging on her lips for sure.
“What?” he asks, feeling a little nervous. It’s the first time he is bringing having kids up, but he definitely has been thinking about it, especially since she has moved in. They haven’t been dating for that long, but Harry is one hundred percent sure he is in the long run with her.
“I just… love how you said when and not if.”
“Well, it’s a question of when for me. What about you?”
“Same goes for me,” she smiles warmly. “And yes, I do want my children to speak Dutch. It’s important to my family and me as well. How does that sit with you?”
“Totally fine. In fact, I always envied kids growing up who were taught another language so early in their childhood. Would love that for my kids as well.”
“Dan is het geregeld,” she smiles widely at him.
“What’s that mean?” He furrows his eyebrows.
“I said that, then it’s settled. We’ll have some cute, bilingual babies,” she chuckles, half jokingly, half seriously.
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Today has just been one of those days that were doomed from the moment Harry opened his eyes. He has been overwhelmed with stress lately, working on new music, but his studio sessions haven’t been as successful as he wanted them. He is also flying out to LA for two weeks in just a couple of days and he has to miss Flora’s mom’s birthday this weekend, which has been torturing him with guilt ever since he found out he can’t push his trip back.
This morning it felt like the universe just plotted against him. He slipped in the shower, broke a glass in the kitchen and successfully ripped one of his favorite jeans when he was getting dressed. He had a one way ticket cranky city, turning Harry into a moody little child. It didn’t take him long until he started a fight with Flora over the smallest, most ridiculous thing. It started with how Flora misplaced a bowl in the cabinet and took him two moments longer to find it than usual, then they ended up disputing about every little thing about each other they’ve been finding annoying, but neither of them voiced their feelings about them.
Flora, on the other hand, was not in the mood to argue with Harry so early on a Tuesday morning and she chose to just walk away and let him stew in his own anger. Harry knew the moment he heard the front door shut that she was mad at him: she didn’t kiss him goodbye like she does every day before she leaves.
He took a cold shower to cool him down and clear his head, get his thoughts straight so he can apologize like she deserves. Getting into his car he drives to the florist he usually goes to when he needs flowers for whatever occasions. The old lady greets him with a warm smile and upon describing what he envisioned, she immediately knows what to create for him this time. The result is a giant, colorful bouquet that reminds him of Flora in every possible means.
Driving down to her school he is met with an extreme amount of nostalgia even though it’s not even the school he went to as a kid, but it still brings back some memories.
The security guard immediately stops him when he walks into the building, but once he has explained him the situation, the old guy gladly tells him which classroom is hers so he can go and surprise her. His footsteps echo in the empty hallways as it is the middle of the second period, all students are locked up in their classrooms, lucky for Harry, because he surely can’t deal with teenage girls recognizing him right now. Holding the flowers in one hand he stops when he finds room 414 and he can hear Flora’s voice coming from inside, enthusiastically explaining something about penguins and it makes Harry smile.
Even with such a horrible morning behind her, she is still giving one hundred for her students. He brings up his hand and softly knocks on the door, interrupting her speech.
“Come in!” she calls out and Harry opens the door, popping his head inside first, then holding up the bouquet of flowers, making the kids start chattering in excitement at his arrival while Flora is staring at him shocked.
“Miss Hoven, do you have a moment for me, please?” he asks with a shy but charming smile. She quickly gains back control over her features before turning to her class.
“Please start working on task two and five, I’ll be right back,” she orders, but the chatter doesn’t die down so she raises her voice at them. “This is not how we act when we have guests, guys!”
The kids are quick to quiet themselves, eyes curiously switching between their teacher and the intruder at the door.
“Miss Hoven, is this your husband?” one of the kids, a little blond boy asks.
“No, Michael, he is not. Harry is my boyfriend,” she answers calmly, heading towards the door.
“Wait, I know him!” a girl exclaims gasping. “He sings the watermelon song!”
“Lilian, no discussion now. Do the tasks!” Flora tells her before walking out, but keeping the door open so she can hear what’s happening inside. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide when she finally looks at Harry again. “What’s—What’s this?”
“These are for you,” he clears his throat, handing her the bouquet. “And I came here to apologize for being such an arsehole this morning. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been crankier lately and I took it all out on you. I’m very sorry.”
Flora’s eyes soften on him as she takes one of his hands with her free one, giving it a squeeze.
“I said some nasty stuff too, so I guess I’m sorry too,” she sighs, her anger and frustration from earlier now long gone.
“I brought that out of you, so I’ll take the blame,” Harry chuckles softly. “But the point is that I’m sorry.”
“Well, you are forgiven. You were even before you came here,” she assures him smiling warmly. “Why don’t we order something tonight and just get lazy on the couch?”
“You said you have some tests to go through.”
“That can wait. You’re leaving in two days so I want to spend time with you.”
“So we won’t get our tests back tomorrow?” they both hear a muffled voice coming from inside and Flora chuckles shaking her head as she opens the door wider and steps inside. A small group of kids run back to their seats, but not fast enough to not get caught.
“Lilian, would you mind telling me why you left your seat without permission?” Flora questions the girl who just rolls her lips into her mouth, pretending like she hasn’t even moved all along. Flora sighs stepping outside once again. “I gotta go now, but thank you for this. They look beautiful,” she tells Harry.
“I love you,” he murmurs and leaning down he kisses her quickly, feeling like he is breaking rules even though he is not a student or a teacher here.
“I love you too,” she smiles back before walking back inside and shutting the door. Harry stays for a minute, just out of curiosity to hear if the kids ask her some more questions about him.
“Miss Hoven?” a girl calls out and Harry bets it’s the same nosy girl who recognized him.
“Yes, Lilian?”
“You have a nice boyfriend,” she exclaims, earning a soft chuckle from Flora.
“Well thank you, Lilian, but let’s get back to our new unit. Let’s see the tasks you had to solve!”
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The splashing sound of vomit arriving to the toilet hits Harry’s ears once again as he is rushing up the stairs with a glass of water and the Emetrol his hands that he dug the kitchen cabinets through for. Arriving to the master bathroom he finds Flora just where he left a few minutes ago, kneeling in front of the toilet, arms on the rim as she is taking a deep breath, hoping to calm her stomach and stop throwing up finally.
“Oh baby, here. Found you some Emetrol, this should help,” he coos gently, sitting down to the marble floor next to her he places the water beside him as he pours some of the liquid medicine into the cap for her. She lifts her head, skin pale as the wall, the dark circles under her eyes make his stomach churn, he hates to see her in this condition and wishes he could just help her.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, her shaking hand takes the cup and she downs the medicine before taking a few sips from the water. “Harry, I’m so sorry for ruining our date,” she sighs in defeat.
“Oh shush. Don’t you dare apologize for being sick,” he shakes his head, putting the Emetrol aside before he towers above her to redo her hair so it doesn’t fall to her face. Today marks their one year anniversary and though they only planned to go out for a nice dinner, nothing extra, Flora still feels bad they had to cancel on their reservation when she started throwing up this afternoon. She’s been feeling nauseous ever since she ate that leftover casserole for lunch. She had a feeling she should have just gotten rid of it, but she hated wasting food so ate it. Big mistake.
Harry’s fingers delicately work on her curls, piling them on the top of her heat before he secures the bun with professional movements using the elastic he tends to wear on his wrists, just because Flora always loses hers. He likes to keep one on him as well. His long haired days trained him well, her hair is neatly kept out of her face as she frowns, feeling her stomach churning again.
“Can I do anything else for you, baby?” he gently asks, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead to make sure she doesn’t have a fever, but she feels alright. She probably just has to get rid of the bad food.
“Can you please get me a wet washcloth?” she asks faintly. Sitting to her butt she leans against the wall beside her with her eyes closed.
Harry nods and he is on his feet in a blink of an eye, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet and wetting it in some cool water. He kneels in front of her and starts gently tapping it against her cheeks, forehead and neck, wiping off the thin layer of sweat.
“This is not how I planned to spend our anniversary,” she groans with a frown, making him chuckle.
“We agreed, the anniversary is postponed. Don’t even think about it.”
“But I wanted to look nice for you, even bought a new dress.” She pouts her lips at him, eyes opening narrowly, glistening from the tears that watered them while she was throwing up.
“You always look nice, baby,” he softly tells her, letting her take the washcloth before she places it over her forehead.
“Even now? After you saw me throw up four times? We have very different versions for the word nice, H,” she jokes with a soft chuckle and Harry is thankful to see her smile, even if it’s still very faint and tired.
“Even now, baby,” he nods smirking and he is not lying. Though the situation is saddening, Harry still enjoys taking care of her, being the one she can rely on even on her worst days.
They sit on the bathroom floor as the medicine slowly works and she finally gets rid of the urge to throw up. Then Harry scoops her up and undressing the both of them, he helps her take a nice shower before dressing her in clean clothes, tossing their dirty ones into the laundry basket, noting to do them sometime in the morning.
When Flora is settled under the cover, head comfortably sinking into the pillow, she immediately feels her eyes closing, the strenuous afternoon has successfully sucked all her energy right out of her body. Harry brings her another big glass of water for the night and just to be sure, puts a trashcan next to her side, if things go south again. When he gets under the covers she is already half asleep, but she hums when his fingertips dance down the side of her face.
He allows himself to shamelessly admire her as she finally falls completely asleep, her lips parted as she slightly snores, but she looks so peaceful, the painful frown he saw on her face all afternoon is now gone from her beautiful face. He hasn’t fully wrapped his mind around how an entire year has passed with such a wonderful creature by his side. As their anniversary was coming up, he caught himself thinking about what the future is holding for them more often. There were so many things they needed to experience together, so much to see and do as partners and Harry couldn’t wait for it all to come.
As he lies in the bed next to her, a smile tugs on his pink lips at the thought of the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Flora. His future has never seemed brighter than in that moment.
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“This is harder than I thought,” Flora admits, focusing on the instrument on her lap, trying to figure out if she is holding down the accords the right way, but a moment later Harry’s hand covers hers on the neck of the guitar and he fixes her fingers on the strings until they are in the right position.
“Like this. Try it now,” he murmurs, his chin resting on her shoulders as she is standing between his legs, back leant against his chest. Flora has been begging him to teach him a few accords on the guitar and today finally brought the moment Harry would turn into her master.
The two of them are sitting on the bed, Harry only in his underwear while Flora is in one of his hoodies with only her panties covering the lower parts of her body. Harry came back from a week-long trip to New York and they haven’t left the bed too much since he set his feet inside the house, only emerging from the bedroom to fulfill their other physical needs.
Flora’s fingers strum against the strings and the instrument comes to life, giving her a clear accord finally, bringing a triumphant smile to her lips.
“You are a natural talent, baby,” he smirks, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before kissing into her neck.
“Don’t tease me, I’m trying!” she warns her playfully, playing the chord again, loving how she can create such a beautiful sound with the instrument.
“Mm, you’re coming for my career?”
“Oh, surely. I think I would make an excellent rockstar,” she nods confidently, making him laugh.
“You are so not the rockstar type. More like the chill indie singer who dances barefoot on stage.”
“Yeah, but I could spice it up a little and make it rockstar-y,” she explains and glances back at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think I would look hot in one of your stage costumes? Sparkly suit and all?”
“Oh I know you’d look amazing,” he nods eagerly. He has spent quite some time imagining her girl in one of his suits and he quite liked the thought. Flora chuckles as he puts the guitar aside before she turns around and straddles him, her knees on each of his sides.
“Yeah? I would need a better name, mine is not too fitting for a star,” she explains. “Easy for you, your name is basically the most perfect name for a rockstar.”
“You think so?” he cocks an eyebrow at her, his palms coming to cup her bum as he tilts his head backwards since this position makes her the taller one for a change.
“Harry Styles? Oh please, it’s like Anne knew she would give birth to a legend,” she scoffs making him laugh.
“I’ve been told it’s a nice one,” he shrugs smugly. “I think it’s the surname.”
“It’s pretty cool, yeah.”
“What if you had the same? Flora Styles? Sounds pretty badass,” he suggests and at first, she doesn’t even realize the hidden meaning behind his words, tasting the name so obliviously.
“Flora Styles? You might be right, the surname sounds very cool,” she agrees and it amazes him how easily it went over her head.
“You like it?”
“Mhm,” she nods, her hand reaching for the guitar once again, but Harry stops her, taking it between his as he blindly finds her ring finger that is now ringless.
“Do you like it enough to actually take it?” he questions, hoping she would get the hint now where this is heading. She blinks at him a little puzzled but it’s until she realizes that his fingers are fidgeting with her ring finger, more specifically where a ring would sit on it, his fingertips gently caressing the skin around it.
“Harry?” she gasps with wide eyes as she just watches his grin grow wider. “This is not… Are you--?”
“What?” he chuckles, feeling entertained how she lost all her smug confidence all of a sudden. “What’s it that you’re trying to say?”
“No, what is it that you are trying to say?!” she snaps back, still in shock about what he just implied. “Was this your sneaky way of… proposing?” she asks, whispering the last word as if it was a curse word.
“Why do you act like we have a forbidden love and marriage cannot be even mentioned?” he chuckles at her.
“Because I was shocked! Not that bad now though, you haven’t pulled out a ring so I guess it was just a cruel joke.” She narrows her eyes at him, kissing his smug grin shortly, but Harry is definitely not done with her just yet.
“I wouldn’t be that sure about it, baby,” he warns her before gently pushing her off her lap to get off the bed. Flora’s eyes widen as she follows him walk to his suitcase that’s still lying on the floor next to his dresser, waiting to be unpacked. He digs under his clothes before pulling out a small velvety box, making her gasp immediately. Harry gets back on bed as he holds out the box in front of her on his palm, not opening it just yet.
“Did you buy that in New York just this week?” she asks with her mouth hung open.
“I didn’t. I’ve had it for about a month, I just took it with myself because I was afraid you’d find it,” he chuckles as he plays around with it between his fingers. “Have been planning on it for a while, but I couldn’t come up with anything so then I just decided to wait for the right moment and go with the flow,” he explains.
“And this is the right moment?” she questions, her heart beating in her throat as her gaze is switching between Harry’s green eyes and the box in his hand.
“Felt like it, yeah,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up.
Silence settles between them as they both just wrap their heads around the weight of the moment. Harry’s heart flutters in his chest, a little afraid it’s too early. They’ve been dating a little over two years now, marriages have been tied way earlier in a relationship before, but Harry feared Flora would feel it too rushed just yet, however the question is out there now. Or is it?
“Well, are you gonna ask it?” she questions and as Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet her gaze, he is met with that playful challenge in them that he adores so much.
“I just asked,” he mutters.
“No, you asked if I would take your name. That’s not a proposal,” she reminds him and he realizes she is right. He never actually asked the big question.
So he finally pops the lid open revealing the vintage diamond ring he bought a month ago when he was just out and about. The moment his eyes laid on the jewelry, he knew it’s the one he’d like to see on your finger and bought it right away.
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“Floortje Hoven, will you marry me?” he simply asks, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks as he smiles widely at his lover.
“I will,” she nods, her heart hammering in her chest as she watches him take the ring out of the box and carefully put it on her once empty ring finger. Still holding her hand, he brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the ring before leaning in he connects his lips with hers.
-
Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!
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battybatzgirl · 3 years
Text
Hey Mr. Sandman, You Missed a Spot
AO3
Summary: 
It's not that Hunter doesn't ever sleep, Eda's come to realize. It was that he falls asleep sporadically, most of the time in really weird places.
Or: 5 times Eda catches Hunter taking a nap
Part 1 of the Finders Keepers Series
---
Here’s the thing about Eda: she loves naps. Eda likes to be cozy, so usually, that equated to curling up under a blanket, lazing around, and falling asleep. The Owl Beast shared that sentiment, the creature that lived within her constantly wanting to nest. Those animalistic instincts were weird, but when you lived in a house with a demon who also liked to bury himself under a pile of stuffed animals, you kind of got used to it.
Here’s the thing about Hunter: he doesn’t sleep.
The kid has been living with them for only about two weeks, officially replacing Eda as Public Enemy Numero Uno in the eyes of the Emperor. When he’d showed up on Hooty’s doorstep, all bloody and barely conscious, Eda thought it was some kind of cosmic trick. The Powers That Be had to be pulling her leg because this was the second time the leader of the Emperor’s Coven had shown up to the Owl House with nowhere else to go.
Luz had been ecstatic to welcome him in, apparently excited to finally fulfill her dreams of becoming a middle child in their weird little found family. King was less thrilled, but eventually warmed up to the idea of Hunter staying with them as long as he taught King his secrets on how to command an army.
Hunter himself even seemed unnerved at the thought of living with them. He tried to leave a few times when he was still wounded, but his little bird palisman (Rascal, she’s heard him say) effectively herded him back into the house by continuously dive-bombing him and nipping at his ears. And after Belos put out a wanted poster for the kid, making him the Isles’ number one most wanted traitor, leaving wasn’t really an option. Not if he wanted to stay alive.
So eventually, Hunter begrudgingly accepted that yeah, he lived in the Owl House now.
And alright, Eda isn’t heartless. The kid was lost, wounded, and an enemy of the Emperor. She can work with that.
Getting to know him has been a challenge, though. Hunter has a lot of weird quirks. He holds himself so seriously that Eda has a hard time remembering that he’s a teenager and not a fully grown middle-aged man. He hardly ever smiles. He’s jumpy, practically jolting out of his skin every time you walk into the same room. He’s clearly Going Through Some Shit, as Eda so eloquently calls it, remembering how Lily went through the same thing when she slowly broke free of Belos’s freaky subjugation.
But still. The kid doesn’t sleep.
Eda first notices it around day four of his residence. She’s up early to go to the market, stepping into the living room and nearly transforming into her Harpy Form out of pure shock when she sees a figure messing with her bookshelf in the back of the room. Wide maroon eyes lock on hers from across the room and she feels the feathers that sprung to her skin recede.
“Titan, kid,” she breaths, “You nearly killed me. What are you doing up? It’s Saturday, you should be sleeping in.”
“Um…I did sleep in,” Hunter responds, as if it’s obvious.
Eda feels a frown tug at her lips, “The sun isn’t even up yet.”
The kid just shrugs a little lamely, and Eda feels a twinge of concern in her chest. (And ugh, feeling concerned for a guy who dangled you over the Boiling Sea is certainly weird.) If this was sleeping in for him, he couldn’t have rested more than five hours.
She steps closer, taking a second look at what he’s doing. Half the books are spread out on the floor, the other half stacked neatly back on the shelves in some kind of order.
He notices her looking, “I, uh, took the liberty of reorganizing your bookshelf. Or organizing it, since it didn’t really seem to have a system.” The kid ducks his head, the tips of his ears flushing pink. “I- I can put it back the way it was if you want, or organize them in a different way.”
That’s another thing about Hunter: he always has to be doing something. Being useful. Without direction, he crumples. It was always, What do you want me to do now, Miss Clawthorne this and I completed this task, Miss Clawthorne, what’s next that. His brain operated on a transactional level—I do this thing for you, you do this thing for me. And since Eda was housing him, he felt like he had to constantly be doing things for her. Constantly proving himself worthy to be here, repaying her. Hunter couldn’t seem to wrap his head around that she didn’t want him to do anything except stay comfortable.
Eda has thought up a hundred different little tasks for him to do in just his first four days. She’s running out of odd jobs to give him, and if she has to keep telling him what to do she’s going to start pulling out her hair.
“You’re fine, kid,” she says. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’ if it makes ya happy. But you shouldn’t be up this early. You should at least take a nap later.”
Hunter tilts his head. “But that wouldn’t be accomplishing anything.”
“You don’t hafta be working all the time,” Eda stresses. “It’s okay to sit around and just exist once and a while. Actually, I think that should be your priority. Take a nap, relax, go cloud watching, take a walk—any or all of the above.”
“That sounds like doing nothing.”
“That’s because it is doing nothing.”
His face hardens, taking on that soldier-like seriousness that encompasses his entire demeanor. “Being lazy can’t be a priority.”
“Don’t think of it like that, then,” Eda almost snaps, wishing for a nice hot mug of apple blood. It was too damn early to deal with the repercussions of Belos’s all-work-no-play mindset. “Think of it as acting your age. Did you ever get to take naps as a kid in the Emperor’s Coven? Is relaxing just a foreign concept to you?”
He doesn’t answer, staring at her with those bagged eyes and guarded expression, and Eda throws up her hands in defeat.
She leaves then, her patience running too thin to continue arguing with him. She doubts he’ll actually go back to sleep. He probably goes back to doing whatever he was doing with that bookshelf. Eda makes a mental note to tell King to knock all the books off, just so Hunter can reorganize it later. Just for something for him to keep him occupied.
1.
Eda doesn’t even notice the first time it happens. It was one of Luz’s friends, Gus, who pointed it out.
The kids were gathered at her home after school, spread out on the floor of the living room along with various pillows and blankets. Luz found some card game she knew buried somewhere in the piles of human trash Eda has laying around, and the girl has been spending the better part of an hour trying to explain how it works.
“So the Wild Card doesn’t make you turn into a wild animal?” Willow questions, holding up a black card with looks like a colorful pie chart on it.
“Nope!” Luz says cheerfully. “It just becomes any color you want it to be to go with the rest of your hand.”
“But the card doesn’t actually change color?” Amity asks.
“No, it only represents the color,” Luz clarifies, and Eda has to admit, her girl has a ton of patience. She’s been quietly watching from her place on the couch, half-listening to their conversation, half-reading the Isles’ latest edition of You Gossipy Witch, a tabloid where a writer is speculating about her true form. Apparently, some people think she was raised by feral, wild owls on some far away barrier island, and has come to reside in Bonesborough just because she ran out of mutant rats to eat.
Weird.
But entertaining!
Gus holds up one of his cards, “So are blank cards bad, or—"
King jumps over his shoulder, landing on the deck of cards in the middle of their little circle and making them fly everywhere. “I have taken dominion over ALL YOUR CARDS. All of you must grovel for a taste of my wealth!”
“Actually, the point of the game is to get rid of all your cards,” Luz reminds him gently. “That way, when you get down to one card, you shout Uno! And you win! If no one else makes you draw anymore, that is.”
King deflates a little, apparently put off by the idea of less is more. “Oh.” Luz smiles and pats him on the head, and he brightens up. “Okay, let’s play, because I wanna make all of you draw as many cards as possible! You'll drown in your cards! Choke on them, even!”
As they start gathering up the cards that King threw everywhere, Gus lets out a little gasp. “You guys—is Hunter asleep?”
That immediately draws Eda’s attention away from the magazine. Her eyes flicker to the blond witch, laying on his stomach just on the edge of their group. He was still having a hard time socializing, especially with Amity, but Luz was determined to include him in all friendship activities. She said wanted to teach him how to be a kid, and hell, if anyone could knock some seriousness out of that boy it would be Luz.
Hunter is indeed asleep—his face is mushed into the forearms pillowed under his head, and his red palisman has weaseled its way to nestle in between the crook of his elbow. His breath comes out in soft little sighs, and Eda feels something in her melt.
“Awwww, he looks so peaceful,” Luz croons, mushing her palms against her cheeks. Amity’s already scooched past her, snapping photos on her scroll. Eda can’t blame her. She knows a good blackmail opportunity when she sees one.
Eda’s off the couch and catches King mid-pounce. “Whoa there, none of that buddy.”
“But Edaaaa,” the demon whines, his little arms and legs flailing in mid-air. “I have to conquer him when he least expects it!”
“Ehhh, let the kid sleep. Save your conquests for when he’s awake and can put up a fight.” Eda sets him down in his place in the circle, and the kids all glance at each other before turning back to the cards.
She notices that they’re more mindful to keep their tones softer, probably to not disturb the sleeping boy. And when Hunter wakes himself up about half an hour later, they don’t mention it, seamlessly integrating him back into their game.
2.
The second time it happens, Raine is walking Eda home. It’s early in the evening, and the pair just got done with a fabulous date—a picnic with apple blood and sweet (and stolen) baked goods? Titan, take Eda now, she’s found her perfect match.
She’s still riding that high, not noticing Raine stopping until they tug on their clasped hands. “Hey, who’s that? Is he okay?”
Eda follows where they’re pointing their finger. It’s Hunter, slumped against the base of an oak tree, fast asleep. His chin is tipped forward and a book open on his chest, and even more strangely, there’s a small pile of leaves on his lap.
“Oh, that’s just my—” Eda stops herself, the word catching in her throat. Hunter was a child in her care, yes, but he wasn’t quite her kid. Not like Luz or King. The blond witch was still too jumpy, baring his teeth and snarling at anything that tried to get close to him.
He calls her Miss Clawthorne, for Titan’s sake.
“—Hunter,” Eda finishes lamely.
Raine raises an eyebrow. “Your Hunter?”
“He’s uhhh, one of Luz’s friends who just so happens to be living with us. Not a big thing.”
Raine shoots her a deadpan look but strides forward anyway, kneeling next to the sleeping blond. They keep their voice to a low murmur, “Should we wake him? That can’t be comfortable for his neck. He’ll probably be sore later.”
“Eh, let him rest. This is more sleep than he usually gets.” Eda steps closer, kneeling down on his other side. It’s the side that has his scar, the slightly raised red tissue standing out even more so than usual now that he wasn’t constantly moving. She’s almost asked him how he got it, but he’s clearly sensitive about the subject. She’s seen the similar marks on his arms, and something tells her there are a whole lot more scars that he’s hiding.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who gave them to him.
Still, it’s hard to ignore just how young he looks. When he’s stripped of all of his snappy comebacks, quick defenses, and that guarded demeanor Belos forced onto him, he’s reduced to exactly what he should be:
A kid.
“Oh!” Raine startles in surprise. Eda looks up to see the cardinal palisman fluttering down from above them, carrying a few leaves in its beak. It hops down onto Hunter’s lap and deposits the leaves in the little growing pile on his leg.
A smile worms its way onto Eda’s face. She runs a finger across the little bird’s head, “Trying to keep him warm, huh?” The bird lets out a trilling note of confirmation. She lets the bird be, turning back to Raine, “I think Rascal’s got this covered. If he hasn’t come in before nightfall I’ll come out and get ‘em.”
The bard casts one last glance down at the sleeping boy before they stand. “Y’know, he kind of reminds me of someone.”
“Oh yeah?” Eda weaves her arm through Raine’s as the pair reassumes their walk.
“Yeah,” Raine hums. “He kind of has the same build as someone I met when I was held hostage in the Emperor’s palace. The Golden Guard. Did you hear that he ran away from the palace? There've been rumors that the Emperor himself is tearing apart the Right Arm looking for him.”
“Uh, about that...”
Raine stops, turning to look at her square in the face. Eda gives them a sheepish, toothy grin.
“Oh my god,” Raine says. “You adopted the Golden Guard?”
“Hey now, adopted is a very strong word—”
The bard cuts her off with a delighted laugh. “How am I not surprised?” Eda feels heat rise to her face, but can’t help but return Raine’s infectious smile. “Only you, Eda. Only you.”
3.
The third time it happens, Eda’s passing through the upstairs hallway, intent on curling up into her nest for an afternoon nap of her own. She hears a shuffling noise as she passes by the glorified storage closet that they gave Hunter as a room, and can’t resist a peek inside.
What she finds is definitely…not what she was expecting. Hunter is laying flat on his back on the floor, his feet elevated on the little cot they’d given him. Yeesh, that couldn’t be comfortable. Soft snores woosh past his open lips, his face turned toward a crystal ball that’s playing some cartoon he must have been watching before he fell asleep.
His body is nearly covered in stuffed animals.
“King,” Eda hisses. The horned perpetrator is in the middle of dumping his entire army onto the blond witch’s chest, pinning down his arms with plushies. “What did I tell you about burying people alive?”
The demon pauses from where he’s been slowly arranging his army over Hunter’s sleeping form. “He’s got plenty of room to breathe! I didn’t cover his face,” King protests. “Can’t subjugate someone who’s dead.”
“No subjugating—” your brother, she almost says, “—Hunter.”
King squints at her, but then grumbles and starts slowly taking the stuffed animals off the boy’s body. Crisis averted, Eda slips back out into the hall, mind swirling. That was the second time she’d almost referred to Hunter as hers in passing. The feeling is too raw to speak out loud yet, but there’s a growing warmth in her as she watches Hunter acclimate to his surroundings in the Owl House. With every day that goes by, he’s more comfortable around her, around Luz and King and Hooty, and he’s starting to come out of his shell. He’s growing softer, less quick to snarl, becoming more Hunter and less Golden Guard.
Unconsciously, Eda’s started viewing him as part of their little family. Two weeks ago, that thought would have made her uncomfortable. Now, she welcomes it with open arms.
Ugh, she’s getting so soft.
4.
The fourth time it happens is when Eda’s flying home from visiting Lilith. She’s only been gone for the day, and is hoping that leaving Luz in charge hasn’t led to any freak fires, the resurrection of the dead, or other various natural disasters. Unfortunately, even her most responsible kid is pretty reckless, so Eda’s expectations are set pretty low.
It’s probably sometime around 2 a.m. when she makes it home sweet home. She swoops in close, intent on landing on the front door but stilling mid-air when she sees something on the roof of the tower. Even from up here, it’s not hard to distinguish the form of a looming body.
Eda’s heart leaps into her throat and she takes Owlbert down into a dive. Her body is tense when she lands, her staff already aimed toward the person lurking by the edge of the roof. “Alright listen bucko, you better step back or—wait.” She sees what looks like a lump of feathers sitting on top of the person’s head, and Eda squints in the darkness. She quickly pulls out a light glyph, sending the tiny ball of sun forward.
“Hunter?!” Eda’s tense posture relaxes. The kid doesn’t answer, and it takes her a beat to figure out why. He’s dead asleep, slumped precariously over the telescope they use for stargazing. Eda has no idea how he’s even standing at all. Kid probably had a ton of practice of falling asleep on his feet during long, boring meetings with the Emperor.
“Wakey, wakey.” She places her hand on his shoulder, gently, but he wakes up with a full-body jerk, startling the palisman on top of his head. The cardinal chirps once in irritation, fluttering to rest on Eda’s shoulder instead.
Hunter’s eyes are wild for a moment until he seems to register where he is and who he’s with. He relaxes then, letting out a yawn so huge it would put any lion to shame. “…Eda?”
“The one and only,” Eda says, ignoring how her heart squeezes at the kid finally calling her by her name. “Wanna tell me why you’re up here in the middle of the night?”
“Waitin’ for you,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. His eyelids drop and he sways dangerously on his feet. “Wanted to… t’make sure y’got home safe.”
The warmth in her chest expands and eclipses her entire body in that fuzzy feeling she gets whenever one of her kids does something particularly adorable. Thank Titan it’s dark and Hunter is too out of it to notice the smile that spreads across her face. If he was fully awake, Eda gets the feeling that A) he probably never would have admitted that he was worried about her, and B) would have snapped at her for smiling at him like that. “Well, I’m home now, so let’s get you to bed before you topple over.”
Eda wraps her arm around his waist and nudges him along, practically carrying him back downstairs, their palismen following close behind. She doesn’t mind. Someone had to make sure he didn’t fall off the roof.
“Night, kid,” she says, tucking him under the blankets on his cot. Hunter doesn’t respond, already having slipped back into unconsciousness. And if she brushes his bangs tenderly out of his face, no one ever has to be the wiser.
5.
The fifth time it happens, Eda’s gotten used to it. It's not that Hunter doesn’t sleep, she’s come to realize. He just falls asleep in weird places. Why, she has no idea, but honestly, the kid looked so tired all the time, she wasn’t going to question it. They had bigger things to worry about.
The Day of Unity is just around the corner, and Belos has become more irritating than ever.
Eda hadn’t even thought that was possible for him, but apparently, it was. The scouts around Bonesborough have tripled, their captains leading more and more raids, butting into shops to check everyone’s papers, and invading random districts.
Oddly, Belos’s priorities seem to have shifted. He’s still sending out grunts to round up any wild witches, but the guards have been playing a weird sort of hide-and-seek, going beyond just patrolling the marketplaces to actually tearing into people’s homes. From what she’s heard, the guards never take anything, just searching the place top-to-bottom before leaving empty-handed and moving on to the next house.
Belos was looking for something.
And unfortunately, Eda’s got a pretty good idea of what he’s after.
Said thing just so happens to be slumped across from her at the kitchen table, dead to the world. It’s late into the night, and most of the kids have already gone to sleep. Too on edge to lie down, Eda’s been keeping herself busy by concocting more potions while the late-night news plays on her crystal ball in the background.
Hunter, striving to be helpful, volunteered to stay up and help.
It wasn’t long before the kid slowly started to nod off, face supported by his palm as his eyelids started to droop. He’d been in the middle of mixing two ingredients—highly flammable ingredients, mind you—and Eda plucked the vials out of his lax grip just in time. Honestly, it was a miracle the kid never killed himself in the Emperor’s Coven with how randomly he falls asleep.
He probably never got the chance to sleep at all, a voice reminds her. She remembers how dead-exhausted Lily was during her first few days at the Owl House. It was probably safe to assume that the Emperor had a habit of running the head of his Coven into the ground.
Hunter has been picking up on Belos’s tightening grip, too. He’s been getting quieter, more reserved. He’s come to the same conclusion that Eda has: the Emperor was tearing apart the whole of the Isles to get him back.
Why, though, is anyone’s guess. Hunter has long since explained that his uncle always said that the Titan had big plans for him, and it probably has something to do with the Day of Unity, but beyond that, the Emperor had always kept him in the dark. Luz has a crazy theory involving clones and blood magic, but that sounds like it’s a plot point straight out of one of her Azura books. King thinks Belos wants his artificial staff back, and Hooty predicts the Emperor is just sad because all his Coven leaders are leaving him to join Hooty’s superior best friends club.
Whatever the reason, Eda’s made it pretty clear that she’s not gonna bend to Belos’s intimidation tactics and turn him over. That smarmy gold jerk could set the whole Isles on fire and Eda still wouldn’t hand him over. Hunter’s part of the Bad Girl’s Coven now, and Belos can just suck it. And she’s not afraid to say that to his stupid face, either.
So when the cauldron at the end of the table that holds the scrying potion suddenly begins bubbling on its own, Eda may very well get her chance.
She’s up on her feet in an instant, dashing to the other end of the table just as the steam rising off the potion begins to warp into a familiar figure.
“Edalyn,” Belos greets, his voice sharp like a dagger. “I do hope I’m not interrupting your evening, but I needed a word with you.”
Ugh, scrying potions weren’t supposed to work both ways! Belos was too damn powerful. He could probably peer into their lives as much as they could peer into his.
“Sorry, but now’s a bad time,” Eda shoots back. “Why don’t you hang up and call back literally never?”
“It’s come to my attention that you have something of mine,” the masked man continues smoothly as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’d ever so appreciate it if you gave it back.”
Eda’s lip curls back, feeling the itch of feathers poking out of her joints. She wants to shift into her harpy form and leap through the potion to claw out his eyes. “Sorry, Belos,” she says, dripping smug bravado, “We wild witches operate solely under the laws of finders keepers. Your kid? Mine now.”
Eda expects that the Emperor would very much like to vaporize her. “Make your threats wisely, Owl Lady. You have no idea what you’re up against. Everything will be easier for you and your little friends if you just hand the boy back over to me.”
“Fat chance.” Eda throws back her shoulders and shoots him a sharp grin. “Sounds to me like you’re threatening one of my kids, and we weirdos stick together. Going after one of us is basically asking for all of us to bring you down. Remember how well that went last time? How my human cracked your mask and publicly humiliated you during your big let’s-turn-Eda-to-stone ceremony?”
The Emperor looks as though he has some choice words to say, but Eda doesn’t care. Hunter is her kid now. She glowers at him through that mist, voice lowering in with deadly promise. “You’ll have to drag him back to your Coven over my dead body.”
“That can be arranged,” sneers Belos.
“Try me, antler boy.” Then Eda whacks the cauldron and sends it tipping over the edge of the table. The connection is immediately severed as the potion goes splattering over the hardwood, and the resounding CLANG of the bowl makes Hunter shoot violently out of sleep.
“Huh?! Whassit—Eda? What happened? Are you alright?”
“Fine, kid,” she says, swallowing down the rage that’s still bubbling hot in her throat. “’S alright, just got a little clumsy and knocked over a cauldron. Sorry for waking you.”
“Sorry for falling asleep,” Hunter responds. He grabs a towel and hurries to clean up the oozing purple goo.
Eda waves him off, “Eh, I don’t mind. You kids need your rest. Growing bodies and all that.”
Hunter still hesitates, looking at her for a beat too long as if double-checking to make sure she wasn’t really upset. Eda holds back a sigh, a twinge of pity flickering through her that he’d even have to look at her like that in the first place. All the damage from Belos couldn’t be wrapped up in a month, she supposed.
She snatches up the cauldron, still dripping with the ruined potion. Peachy. She’ll have to call Lilith to get her scrying potion recipe. Though maybe not having this in the house was a good idea. Eda doesn’t want to risk His Royal Highness dropping in on any more unexpected house calls.
“Eda?”
She looks up at Hunter. The kid chewing on his bottom lip, wringing the half-soiled towel between scarred hands.
“I just…I wanted to say thank you,” Hunter says shyly. “I know having me here hasn’t exactly been easy—not only because of the fugitive thing, but because I’m…” He flounders for a moment, and Eda can only pretend to know what’s going through his mind right now. “…me,” he finishes finally. “You’ve been so kind and patient with me, it’s so much more than I deserve, and no matter what happens next—”
“Hey, no.” Eda cuts him off with a swift and gentle beratement. She sets the cauldron on the table and crowds closer to him, curling one hand around his cheek. The kid automatically leans into the touch, and Eda can’t help but wonder how Belos could have ever hurt a child who was as sweet as this one.
“You may be one bratty little shit, but you’re my bratty little shit. And Mama says you deserve all the smothering that comes with being a child of the Owl Lady.”
Then, to prove her point, she swoops down and quickly places feather-light kisses on the tip of his nose, forehead, and his scar, until Hunter squawks and shoves her away. He’s practically glowing, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears.
“Gross,” he snaps, rubbing furiously at his face. “I’m never helping you with your potions ever again.”
“I’ll accept your terms. Now get upstairs, it’s way past your bedtime.”
“I don’t have a bedtime, I’m not a baby.” Hunter sticks out his tongue but obeys, slipping out of the kitchen and disappearing into the rest of the house. Eda shakes her head as she watches him go.
Kids. What could ya do with ‘em?
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d-criss-news · 3 years
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20 Questions With Darren Criss: How Acting Has Helped Him Make New Music
While Darren Criss has graced our TV screens with a range of characters, from high schooler Blaine Anderson on Glee to serial killer Andrew Cunanan on The Assassination of Gianni Versace, he was last spotted just being himself, on our For You Page on TikTok. “I’m walking to rehearsal with a guitar on my back with a Trader Joe’s bag ... I did not bring an umbrella because I forgot that it was raining. I’m rocking that NYC musician life,” the Glee alum explained in the hilarious clip posted three days ago.
While Criss’ acting work has earned him acclaim and stardom, he leaned into making music during the pandemic. On Aug. 20, he dropped a new EP, Masquerade, featuring five new tracks that Criss says were inspired by the different characters Criss has embraced throughout his career. After Criss wrote songs for his musical comedy web series Royalties and Apple TV+’s animated sitcom Central Park before the pandemic struck the United States, he then used those experiences as a precursor to his new EP. As Criss continues to promote his new music, he answered 20 of Billboard's questions – giving us a peek into how his new EP came together, and how growing up in San Fransisco shaped him as an actor, singer and all-around artist.
1. What inspired your latest project, Masquerade?
Although I would have preferred that it come at a far less grim cost, I finally had the time. Before the pandemic, I had written 10 new songs for my show Royalties -- along with an original song for Disney and another for Apple’s Central Park. These were all assignments in which I was writing for a certain scenario and character. Go figure. It was the most music I had ever written in a calendar year. This really emboldened me to rethink how I made my own music— to start putting a focus on “character creation” in my songs, rather than personal reflection. The latter was not proving to be as productive. The alchemy of having this time and having set a new intention with my own songwriting and producing made me put on a few of my favorite masques and throw myself a Masquerade.
2. How do you think your background as an actor complements your music?
They are one and the same to me. I treat acting roles like musical pieces— dialogue is like scoring a melody; there’s pace, dynamics, cadence, tone. Physical characterization is like producing -- zeroing in on the bass line, deciding on the kick pattern. Vocal characterization is like choosing the right sonic experience, choosing the most effective snare sound, and mixing the high end or low end. It goes without saying that it works in the complete opposite direction. Making each song is taking on a different role literally and employing the use of different masques to maximize the effectiveness of the particular story being told.
3. On Instagram  you wrote that “Masquerade is a small collection of the variety of musical masques that have always inspired me.” Which track do you identify with most in your real life?
Everybody absorbs songs differently. Some key into the lyrics, some into the melody, some the production, some into vocal performance. When I listen to songs, I consider all of their value on totally different scales. So it’s hard to say if there’s any track I “identify” with more than any others, since I -- by nature -- identify with all of them. I think I just identify with certain aspects more than others. If it helps for a more interesting answer, I will say I enjoy the slightly more classical, playful -- dare I say -- more Broadway-leaning wordplay of “Walk of Shame,” but that’s just talking about lyricism. I enjoy the attitude of “F*kn Around,” the batsh--t musicality of “I Can’t Dance,” the relentless grooves of “Let’s” and “For A Night Like This.” All have different ingredients I really enjoy having an excuse to dive into.
4. What’s the first piece of music that you bought for yourself, and what was the medium?
Beatles audio cassettes: “Help” and “Hard Day’s Night.” I just listened on repeat on a tape-playing Walkman until my brother and I got a stereo for our room with a CD player in it, which was  when I just bought the same two albums again, but this time as compact discs.
5. What was the first concert you saw?It’s hard to say, because my parents took us to a lot of classical concerts when we were small. But I guess this question usually refers to what was the first concert you went to on your own volition, and that my friend, was definitely Warped Tour ’01. My brother and I went on our own— two teenagers going to their first music festival, in the golden age of that particular genre and culture. It was f--king incredible.
6. What did your parents do for a living when you were a kid?
My dad was in private banking and advised really, really wealthy people on how to handle their money. My mom was, by choice, a stay-at-home mom, but in reality, she was my dad’s consigliere. They discussed absolutely everything together. They were a real team, and I saw that every single day in the house. They both had a background in finance (That’s how they met in the first place.) and were incredibly skilled at all the hardcore adulting things that I absolutely suck at. They were total finance wizards together. So of course, instead of becoming an accountant, I picked up playing the guitar and ran as far I could with it. Luckily, they were all about it.
7. What was your favorite homecooked meal growing up?
My dad was an incredible chef. For special occasions, I’d request his crab cakes. They were unreal. I’ve never had a crab cake anywhere in the world that was good as my dad’s.
8. Who made you realize you could be an artist full-time?
I don’t know if I’ve actually realized that yet.
9. What’s at the top of your professional bucket list?
The specifics change every day, but the core idea at the top is to continue being consistently inconsistent with my choices, and to keep getting audiences to constantly reconsider their consideration of me. But I mean, sure, what performer doesn’t want to play Coachella? What songwriter doesn’t want to have Adele sing one of their songs? What actor doesn’t want to be in a Wes Anderson film?
10.  How did your hometown/city shape who you are?
San Francisco. I mean, come on. I was really lucky. The older I get, the more grateful I am for just being born and raised there. It’s an incredibly diverse, culturally rich, colorful, inclusive, vibrant city. By the time I was born, it had served as a beacon for millions of creative, out-of-the-box thinkers to gather and thrive. I grew up around that. The combination of that with having parents, who were unbelievably supportive of the arts themselves, laid an incredibly fortunate foundation to consider the life of an artist as a legitimately viable option. It’s a foundation that I am supremely aware is not the case for millions of young artists around the world. I was absurdly lucky.
11.  What’s the last song you listened to?
I mean probably one of mine, but not by choice. I know, lame. But I’m promoting a new EP, what’d you expect? But if you wanna know what I’ve been listening to, as far as new s--t is concerned: a lot of Lizzy McAlpine, Remi Wolf, and Charlie Burg.
12.  If you could see any artist in concert, dead or alive, who would it be?
The Beatles is an obvious "yeah, duh." Sammy Davis, Mel Tormé, or of course, Nat King Cole. I would’ve loved to see Howard Ashman give a lecture on his creative process and his body of work.
13. What’s the wildest thing you’ve seen happen in the crowd of one of your sets?
I feel like just having a crowd at all, at any one of my sets, is pretty wild enough.
14. What’s your karaoke go-to?
The real answer to this I’ll write into a book one day, because I have a lot to say about karaoke etiquette. I have two options here: I can either name a song that I like to sing for me, for fun, or I can name a song that really gets the group going. The answer depends on what kind of karaoke night we’re dealing with here. So I will say, after I’ve selected a ton of songs that services a decent enough party vibe for everyone else, then I would do one for me, and that would be the Beatles’ “Oh! Darling.”
15. What’s one thing your most devoted fans don’t know about you?
What I have up my sleeve.
16. What TV show did you binge-watch over the past year?
Dave is a stroke of genius. There are episodes that I believe are bona fide masterpieces. Also, My Brilliant Friend is a masterclass in cinematic television.
17. What movie, or song, always makes you cry?
It’s A Wonderful Life.
18. What’s one piece of advice you would give to your younger self?
Get used to sharing everything about yourself and your life now, or more astutely, to the idea that you don’t necessarily get to control how your life is shared. I know it’s not really your thing, but you’re gonna have to get used to it, so start building up those calluses now. And don’t worry, all the stuff you love now will be cool again in your mid-thirties, so keep some of those clothes because you’ll be a full-blown fashion icon if you just keep wearing exactly what you’re wearing. Oh nd also, put money into Apple and Facebook.
19.  What new hobby did you take on in the last year?
I’ve always been a linguaphile. My idea of leisure time is getting to study or review other languages. This past year, I took the time to finally dive into learning how to read, write, and speak Japanese. Other than making music, it was one of the biggest components of my 2020-2021.
20. What do you hope to accomplish or experience by the end of 2021?
I hope I get to play live shows again.
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littlefreya · 4 years
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The Kitten & the Bear - Part 1
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Intro: This story is a collab and was written by both @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ and I. It was born out of a fun role play we have going on. We ended up having so much a fun with this particular idea that we thought we should post it as a 3 part story and share it with the rest!
| Read Part 2  | Read Part 3 |
Summary: After a night of drinking in town get Walter’s bratty wife ends up with pure chaos and the overprotective grumpy husband is having none of her shenanigans. 
Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x OFC (first person pov) 
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Bratty behaviour, vandalism, dominant overprotectiveness, BDE, husband stalking his wife, sexual innuendo, dirty inappropriate talks, mentions of sex and oral, weed and alcohol usage. Sex in the next parts :D Walter is a Boomer. 
A/N: We didn’t beta it and did transform it from 2nd to 1st person POV, really hoping you guys will enjoy it as we did. Feel free to share your thoughts. 
Title: The Kitten & the Bear
Nothing chilled my heart more than waking up in an empty bed. Walter was already gone, leaving his side of the mattress cold and abandoned. A heavy sigh broke from my lips, I stroked the ghost of the kiss that still tingled on my cheek, knowing he planted it there before heading to work. 
Sadness seeped into my heart as I realised I won't see him today. Our work scheduled conflicted and I have scheduled a "date night" with my girls in the evening. Picking up my phone, I texted him a pouty emoji and then headed to get my day started.
Walter left me on read, which just fuelled the brat in me. When he called during his lunch break, he was taciturn as usual, and most of the call was about his disapproval of us girls going out without at least one male friend or a boyfriend to chaperone.
"Oh my god, Walter, this is not the 50s! Women can leave their house without a husband tagging along!" I grunted and berated him, "stop acting like someone is going to kidnap me!!! I'm an adult woman!" I snapped at him while sitting at the cafe. People sitting around stared quietly as I hung up the phone, and stormed out.
~~~
Walter looked at his mobile phone, shocked. He couldn't even remember the last time someone hung up on him, let along his wife.
"Fucking brat," he muttered as he pocketed it. 
After lunch, he went into the precinct. Since it was flu season and they were having a shortage of uniformed officers, he volunteered to patrol tonight. Assuming he might even be able to check up on me wherever I get to town. Just to keep me safe. That's right. Not from jealousy. Not because I'll be all dolled up and tipsy and every man in the vicinity will ogle me.
~~~
As the evening loomed, I was in dire need of letting loose. Walter had left me incredibly frustrated, acting like a police officer from hell rather than my husband. Going through my closet, I stumbled upon the most outrageous piece of wardrobe: a black strappy thing with corset details at the front. The same one I've worn for our first date which of course ended up with Walter and I dry humping like two horny teenagers at the back of his truck and him eating me out until I came all over his beard 4 times. 
I slapped a dark red lipstick and put on a pair of red "fuck me" pumps before leaving to meet the gals in a new night club that had just opened. I might or might not have a rolled-up joint in my purse.
~~~
Walter was sitting in a patrol vehicle on the opposite side of the street from the new fancy club with translucent walls. We were all sitting beside the window at a small table full of cocktail glasses, but the girls were gesturing toward the dance floor. Walter chose a dark spot on the street to park the car and was wearing a beanie. 
But he didn't need it. He knew I was oblivious to him and also to the men staring at me from 3 different tables. He ground his teeth frustrated when he first noticed that I was wearing that dress. His blood boiled as I was slowly sipping a cocktail with a sexy little pout around the long straw.
"Let's dance!!! I wanna dance!!!" I whined at my friend Keylah, grabbing her wrist and dragging her with me. My posture was slightly unstable after two cocktails and probably not enough food to pad my belly. She followed me to the dance floor while Stephanie remained in her seat, talking to some guy just for the sake of trolling. He'd been hitting on each one of us unsuccessfully. 
After an hour of dancing with Keylah, swaying my ass in ways that didn't leave any imagination to the men lurking, I remembered the little treat I had in my purse and decided we should take a small break to breathe some fresh air. 
I grabbed the girls, and we walked outside.
"Okay, don't you dare mention this to Walter," I warned them as I took the joint out from my purse.
"Daddy Magnum gonna punish you?" Steph teased while I lit the weed. 
"Oh, you have no idea, he gave me shit about seeing you tonight without a male chaperone, like this is Mad Man or something." 
"Woah! Walter is a boomer!!!" Keylah teased, and we all laughed hysterically. 
~~~
Unbeknownst to me, Walter was watching us dance from his patrol car, getting more and more frustrated by the hour. He observed as I gathered both girls and came out on the street, walking a couple of meters away from the entrance. A frown fell on his face as he saw me taking a lighter out from my purse.
"She doesn't even smoke, what the hell?" he fumed. 
His eyes widened when he saw the telltale shape of a joint between my fingers. His mouth was agape as I lit it up and started smoking and passing it around. "What the fuck? Where did she get that?" he muttered incredulously.
'It's fucking illegal in Minnesota, what the fuck? A cop's wife at that!' He thought, rage simmering in his gut.  
The police radio suddenly began buzzing, the sergeant calling on the line. 
"Hey Marshall, Toby came in for the night shift after all. Do you want him to keep you company?" 
'And see Walter's wife going to town on a spliff? No fucking way.' 
"No, Sarge, thanks. It's uh... calm tonight." He frowned from afar. "Nothing but law-abiding citizens," he replied, hoping his sarcasm didn't go through while he was watching the wife of a respected detective drunk and smoking weed in the great outdoors.
"All right" the sarge concluded and cut the line, and Walter put back the radio.
‘Un-fucking-believable.'
~~~
The girls and I fell into a fit of wild giggles, thoroughly buzzed and high at the same time. My skirt rode up my thighs, and I didn't even bother fixing it as the combination of drugs and alcohol made me frivolous and careless. 
"Is Walter such a nerd in bed too? Is he one of those guys who won't even make a sound because they are ashamed of it?" Stephanie asked to which I immediately snorted.
"Walter fucks like a beast from hell," I answered and put off the remains of the joint against the heel of my shoe. 
"I had to go to the gyno at least four times in the past because he was too violent, and trust me, the noise he makes, luckily no one called the police yet…" 
"Jennifer, your husband is the police!" Keylah answered, and we burst into another fit of giggles which then gradually died down. 
The same man who bugged us from before followed us outside, giving us some stares and making a suckling voice with his lips. I snorted at him and told him to fuck off before putting my arms around my girls. 
"This place sucks, let's go grab something to eat from the store, if Walter sees me like this I will NEVER hear the end of it".
~~~
Walter was watching us walk away, still furious about my illicit behaviour. He promised himself that he'd have a serious conversation with me about this tomorrow. He gave us two blocks of a head start and then ignited the engine of the car and made a U-turn, slowly he rolled towards the store and saw us enter. He made another U-turn in front of the store to park across the street. He just hoped that we'll buy some nachos and a coke and then call it a night, and call a cab to go home.
~~~
It was close to 1am. We barged into the store, marching through as if we owned the place. Keylah stopped by the condoms section and threw a bottle of lube in my direction. "Here you go, Jennifer, you gonna need it".
I laughed and threw it back at her, grabbing a bag of chips and a bottle of water. 
"Better fuck his brains before he starts asking where you've been tonight," Stephanie added. 
"Can you girls please behave?" The clerk-lady requested politely, giving us a prudent look. I rolled my eyes at her and then stopped short as I saw a large stuffed grizzly bear that reminded me of Walter. I grabbed it and hugged it tightly just as I got the sudden urge to misbehave.
"Girls…" I whispered, making them come closer, "bet you a 20 I can sneak this out without paying!"
~~~
Walter's shoulders slumped, and he let out an irritated groan when he saw one of the girls throwing things inside the store. Though, he sighed in relief when I paused this stupid game, and a small smile tugged the edge of his mouth when I hugged a huge stuffed bear that reached down to my thighs and was high above the top of my head as I squeezed it to my torso. 
The way I looked at the bear reminded him of the loving looks I always gave him. But a sense of foreboding assaulted him as we started whispering and pointed at the door.
~~~
"Okay, okay… shush!" I whispered way too obvious and held the stuffed animal behind my back.
"Hey Keylah, can you pay for my chips?" I asked and backed away toward the door, nearly stumbling on my heels and holding the laughter in my gut. 
Noticing my attempt, the old woman cleared her throat, giving me a glare, "You are going to have to pay for that or I will call the police…"
"Her husb…"
"Shut up, Stephanie!" Keylah shouted and threw a bottle of lube in her direction, accidently hitting my shoulder, which made me drop the bear on the floor. 
"Key, you fucking bitch!!!" I answered and picked up the bottle, throwing it back at her. 
"Hey stop that!!!!" The clerk demanded and walked back behind the counter, picking up her phone. 
We ignored her, laughing like schoolgirls and throwing the bottle back and forth between us. Boxes of tampons and condoms fell to the floor as we moved through the hygiene section shouting playfully. 
As Keylah threw the bottle at me for the 12th time, I lifted it and threw it so hard it hit the window and broke it, causing the store's alarm to go off immediately.
"Oh… fu……..ck" I uttered.
~~~
"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no," Walter panicked as he saw us vandalising the store. He was immediately ready to jump out of the car, but then it would be obvious he'd been keeping an eye on me. He had to wait for the call. 
He wasn't even hoping that the clerk would not involve the police in the matter. She has to. ‘Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.’ 
When he saw the lady picking up the phone, he buried his face in his palms and rubbed it tiredly.
"Stupid, fucking bitches" he sighed, not believing his wife being so reckless. 
He picked up the buzzing radio and said, "Marshall. I'm here. On it." 
Without delay, he took the beanie off and got out of the car with his badge and gun ready.
~~~
Fingers dug into my hair, I stared wide-eyed at the broken window, immediately regretting all my decisions in the last couple of hours. 
'Walter was going to fucking kill me'. 
"I am soooooooo……." I began to say, turning to the clerk slowly while Keylah and Steph held their hands over their mouths. "So sorry." I stretched out while the alarm continued ringing in my ears. 
Then just like out of a nightmare, stepping through shards of broken glass with his big black boots, I saw Walter walking in, his brows knit together, his badge and his gun held out but kept low. He was enormous and menacing, yet the sight of him comforted me.
"Oh thank god, it's you!" I call out relieved.
~~~
The glass cracked beneath his steps as he walked in. He looked around and checked the store for cameras. 'Fuck, there were CCTVs'. 
He hoped to snatch me away and take care of the situation without involving... well himself but now that there was evidence it wasn't possible anymore. I was looking at him like a frightened little girl, but he couldn't help me, and frankly, he didn't feel like it either.
He looked at the clerk, showed her his badge and said in a neutral tone "MPD. What seems to be the problem?" 
~~~
My breath hitched at his "cop voice" and the way he asked the clerk. 
Stepping back and standing in the middle of the group, the three of us gaped at him with utter dumbfoundedness. Both my heart and gut dropped to the messy floor out of fear, and the way he carried himself, looking so menacing and authoritative made my panties drenched with arousal. 
"Officer, thank god you arrived! These three tried to steal a stuffed animal and started wreaking havoc in the store, throwing stuff around like children and speaking offensively!" The old woman explained and stood in the middle of the mess, looking helpless. 
My eyes rounded with false innocence, and I nibbled my bottom lip, giving Walter a vulnerable look. 
Walter was patiently listening to the clerk. Not a muscle flinched on his face as if he'd known everything. He took his notebook and a report form out and took care of the paperwork. 
The old lady eyed the three of us nervously while Walter was scribbling, and she hesitantly asked, "I'm sorry, Officer, but shouldn't you handcuff them? They might run."
Walter's curly head lifted, and he flashed the lady a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Don't worry, ma'am. They won't run."
"Is he serious?" Steph whispered, and I elbowed her, giving Walter a rather pissed off smile as he pretended not to know us at all and treated me like any other criminal.
Was it that just for show? Probably. We were going to have a serious talk about boundaries once we'd get home.
Walter finished writing his report and made the lady sign it before turning to look at the three of us, clenching his jaw. 
After a long, stern silence, I finally spoke, "Can I still get the teddy bear?"
Walter's nostrils flared as he dug into his pocket, pulled out a 20-dollar bill, slammed it on the counter and said to the clerk "For the bear."
At first, the lady was dumbfounded, then she blurted out outraged "Why are you buying a gift for a criminal?"
Walter didn't even spare her a look. He picked up the bear and looked at me with unflinching, stern eyes that made all three of us take a step backwards.
"Because she's my fucking wife."
The tone of his voice made the three of us startle, and I released a small gasp, seeing the look on his face. Walter made a gesture with his hand singling us to walk out of the store in order, and we did as he commanded. At the same time, my eyes gave him a mischievous smirk, mistaking this behaviour for a show.
Walter left the store last and immediately commanded, "To the car".
When we got there on the opposite side of the street, he opened the car and shoved the teddy bear on the passenger seat, then turned back, crossed his hands on his chest, and looked at all three of us. 
"Here's how it's gonna happen. We go in the precinct, fill out the forms, you stay the night, and most likely will be charged with a misdemeanour. Although the weed might be more problematic." He glared at me pointedly. 
The girls and I collectively gasped. 
"Now get in the back seat, all of you."
With shuddering legs, Keylah and Steph obediently entered the patrol car. I stared at Walter as he stood there towering over me, his massive arms crossed around his broad chest.
Still intoxicated, I looked at him with disbelief, realising two things: he arrived at the scene in less than two minutes after the lady called the police, which is impossible. And two, he couldn't possibly know I had weed on me unless… 
"Were you stalking me?!" I called out, ignoring the police officer and speaking to my husband. My hands went to my hips, my face sulking. 
"Oh my god, Walter! You were! Weren't you?" I frowned and shook my head, grunting with disgust.
"You are in no position to reproach me for anything right now", Walter said, seemingly calm. "But if you wanna know, I was patrolling in the neighbourhood and decided to check up on you. I saw the way you were shaking your ass for strangers" he spat, but he let his eyes roam the tight dress, and the way he subtly licked his lips made me sure he remembered exactly which dress it was.
"Do as you're fucking told and get in the car or you're gonna find yourself in even bigger trouble." 
"Oh my god, Walter!!! Are you fucking kidding me?!" I yelled at him and stepped back, throwing my hands in the air furiously.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!!! MY OWN HUSBAND STALKING ME?! What's next Walter? You gonna put an ankle bracelet thingy on me, so I don't get to leave the house without your fucking permission?!"
I got so angry, my hands pushed at his chest, to which he didn't even budge, and only his jaw tightened.
"I am NOT getting into that car, and you are going to let Keylah and Steph go before you are going to be in trouble!"
Keylah and Steph were both watching with utter fascination as they saw the growing tension in Walter's posture.
Once Keylah and Steph were inside the car, they felt like the immediate danger was over. Their drunkenness and high made them reckless again and they started cheering me in the verbal fight with my husband.
Walter was on the verge of bursting, it was evident from his face. He took a menacing step towards me and despite my anger, a pang of arousal shot in my core.
"Get. in the. fucking. car" he growled in a barely audible voice. He gave me one last chance to voluntarily obey him.
I moved closer toward him, my head tilting up to meet his menacing gaze, my breasts ghostly brushing against his hard torso.
"I am not going anywhere with you," I answered unflinchingly. "Keep this attitude up, and the whole town will get to enjoy me swaying this ass long before you do." I teasingly slapped my own ass and then smirked arrogantly as I heard the girls cheering at the backseat
"That's it."
Quick as lightning, Walter's hands uncrossed and shot out. He grabbed my arms, turned me around with dizzying speed and slammed my torso down on the hood of the police car.
"Jennifer Marshall, you are under arrest for destruction of property, public intoxication and obstruction of a law enforcement officer."
I gasped incredulously as I felt the metal handcuffs closing on my wrists while Walter was performing his duty automatically and methodically. I'd never seen him make an arrest, let alone manhandle me like this.
With my cheek pressed against the cold metal, I could see both Keylah and Steph gape at us, eyes and mouth wide with daze. 
Still intoxicated, I hissed as a shiver of fear and sexual arousal shot through my spine, creeping all the way down to my throbbing core. 
"What the fuck are you doing?!" I cried out in protest. "I am your wife!"
My attempt to stand up brought my ass to collide with his crotch, where I felt the unmistakable throb of his blood circulating down to his groin. 
"Are you also getting the feeling that they're gonna fuck?" Steph whispered to Keylah, loud enough for us to hear.
"Shush!" she answered and stared, licking her lips. 
"Let me go, you fucking pig!" I screamed and squirmed on the hood helplessly. 
"Anything you say will be held against you in the court of law" Walter continued in his deep cop voice as if I hadn't even spoken.
"Say his dick, girl!" Keylah shouted, and Steph wooed, but they quickly shut up and resorted to concealed giggling as Walter shot angry eyes at them. He stepped closer to secure his hold on the handcuffs, and I felt the warm coarse material of his jeans at the back of my thighs.
"If you don't want to add resisting arrest and possession of narcotics to your offences, shut the fuck up and stop squirming."
"Fuck” I hissed, which didn't go unnoticed by Walter. My ass naturally shifted against his hardening bulge, and I moaned gently, not loud enough for the girls to hear but definitely heard by Walter, who had his hand around my cuffed wrists.
"You're enjoying this, big guy?" I spit out sardonically, "controlling your wife like you always want to, hmm?"
With the alcohol flushing through my veins, mingled with the sheer exhilaration of anger, I became more daring than ever.
"I think you are just scared because we both know you are never going to tame me."
1K notes · View notes
arctichotch · 3 years
Text
cillian murphy fluff alphabet
now, i am not really someone to write about real people however i have been on a cillian murphy phase since i saw a quiet place 2 and it just won’t go away so i tried writing to see what happened. 
i know cillian is a quiet, private guy and i beyond respect that and the fact he has a family and i just want it to be known i mean no harm or disrespect by writing about him. just trying to channel my ‘obsession’ into something creative or whatever. enjoy
A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)
He loves your passion for everything in your life. Your friends, family, hobbies, for your relationship with him. He loves that you care so much about things other people wouldn’t notice. He also loves how kind and giving you are to those in your life.
B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)
He loves all of your body of course, but perhaps his favourite is your hands. He loves to hold them and he loves to feel them running through his hair in the morning before he’s even fully woken up.
C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)
He is a koala bear. He attaches himself to you without even thinking about it. In the mornings you wake up with him practically on top of you, his legs wrapped in yours and his arms around you. He just loves cuddling and you love how soft and comfortable he is when it’s just you two at home.
D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)
He’s a traditional kinda guy, he likes to go for walks and nice romantic dinners. He likes to try to stay out of the media as much as he can so if he’s afraid of a media circus he’ll like to stay home and cook for you both and then watch a movie or something like that.
E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)
He’s very open and  communicative. If there’s an issue he likes to talk it out with you. He’s mature, and despite your younger age you are too and that’s why your relationship works. You both make a conscious effort to communicate and share whatever you are feeling, especially if they are negative emotions.
F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)
Cillian would love to have a family with you but if you don’t want that then that’s cool too! He has his boys and is happy with whatever you decide.
G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)
He loves gifts, he thinks of it as yet another way to show his love for you. He doesn’t go wild but he loves to treat you every now and then with whatever you want!
H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)
He loves to hold hands. It’s a pretty mild show of PDA so he doesn’t mind doing it in public. It helps him feel grounded in the wildness of going out.
I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)
I think he’d panic quietly but remain calm on the outside. He’d do anything he could in helping you get better.
J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)
Sometimes but not too often. I don’t really know what else to say for this one I have no idea tbh
K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)
He loves kissing you. Little kisses in the morning over breakfast chats and full on, heavy makeouts on the couch in the evenings. He just loves kissing you.
L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)
In so many ways. He does so much, small touches, helping you when you’re tired, constant texts and calls when you are away from eachother.
M = Memory (favorite memory together?)
Probably when you both were out for a walk and he finally gathered his nerves enough to kiss you for the first time as you reached the peak of the mountain.
N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)
Losing someone he loves.
O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)
He’s constantly talking to himself. You’ll be coming down the stairs and hear him talking and think he’s on the phone or someone is visiting so you’ll be quiet but you’ll walk in and see he’s alone, just talking to himself. You just laugh and go over and kiss him on the cheek because it is such an endearing habit.
P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)
Love, darling, any other like personal nickname you may have
Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)
He loves to show you movies he enjoys and taking you to the cinema to see new movies. He tells you all about what he liked about the script and the directing. You love watching him so in his element. He also loves to show you music he grew up listening to.
R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)
(literally can not think of anything my creative well has run dry i think)
S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)
Very open. Cillian doesn’t really see the point in keeping secrets from you since you are the person he trusts most in the world.
T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)
Bloody ages! You both kept denying the feelings that were building up between you. Everyone around you was patiently waiting for you both to finally get together and were relieved when you finally did.
U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)
He gets a bit quiet and loses his energy. He likes to hang around and do things he enjoys with you.
V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)
He’s proud of his career and how he manages to balance his public life with his private life. He doesn’t like to flaunt about with anything in his life and likes to keep his relationship with you as private as possible.
W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)
He’s not much of a fighter, in fact, you both barely have proper fights, more just minor disagreements. He would fight beside you for the rest of your lives together if that’s what you needed.
X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)
Very well. He knows exactly what you need when you’re feeling down and knows exactly how to tell how you are feeling.
Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)
He’d take you on a walk up the mountain where you had your first kiss and drop to one knee as you’re looking out at the view of the Irish landscape.
Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)
Hanging out on the couch with you running your hands through his hair while you both watch some mindless comedy that’s on the tv. It’s all he wants after a tough time doing boring interviews he doesn’t care about at all.
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loveylangdon · 4 years
Text
If You Don’t I Will
Word count: 3.3k
JJ Maybank x Reader : showing jj subtle ways of how you care for him and John B is tired of him not seeing it
A/N: I wrote another JJ thing bc im a simp and I love him and this was also another idea thats been floating around. Fluff is you squint but you dont need to squint hard, next will def be angst bc I live for it Xx
 masterlist
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*not my gif full credit to owner*
“Hey” you let out as you carry 2 bags of groceries into the cheateu seeing the boys lounging on the couch gathered around John B’s phone you hear a chorus of “hey’s” as you move towards the kitchen. John B looks up and hands his phone to JJ making his way out the front door sending you a wink. Rolling your eyes you follow John B outside to your car. 
“You didn’t have to,” John B says smiling at you grabbing a grocery bag from your trunk shooting you a look 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about” you smile innocently to him and make your way over to grab the last grocery bag. You reach past John B until you feel his arm wrap over your shoulder, putting his grocery bag down he wraps his other arm around your shoulder engulfing you in a full hug laying his cheek at the top of your head. You wrap your arms around his torso and give him a squeeze 
“Thank you really” he lets out into your hair. You just give him a hug, you haven’t known them for long but John B automatically became like your brother and JJ was definitely your confidant. When you heard about Big John and Uncle T leaving John B by himself, your heart broke. John B had to support himself and apparently JJ was a constant resident in the chateau and it got harder to support themselves even if they both pitched in. When you found out always being smart with your money you set some aside to help supply the chateau so the boys wouldn’t starve.
JJ broke down one night during a late night smoke sesh you two had to get away from everything. He ended up telling you about his dad and mom in its entirety. After that you guys were kind of inseparable.You told him about why you had to move to OBX and he told you where his bruises and split knuckles came from. You never would’ve guessed one of the most caring people you knew would have to go through that. After that you subtly did more little things that hopefully made it easier on him. 
When you joined the Pogues you fell for his blue eyes and wild personality instantly his careless but protective nature made you fall hard but there was the rule. No Pogue on Pogue macking. Still fairly new to obx barely being here for a year you didn’t know how real the rule was. Being extra nice to JJ consisted of bringing extra of his favorite beer or asking him to buy you joints even though you didn’t smoke often, you would let him keep them, noticing his favorite snacks and bringing them on boat trips. Kie gladly gave up the title of caretaker and let you take over the snacks and picnics for day trips. After JJ told you his secret he made it clear that he didn’t take pity or handouts, you didn’t pity JJ you loved him and just wanted to make sure he knew it. 
So you helped JJ whenever you could making it seem like you were doing it by pure coincidence, knowing that he lived with John B you helped out the house, in general, to make it less obvious. Claiming you all spent so much time there any way it wasn’t fair to not help stock the necessities. 
Breaking away from your thoughts “I’m here for you guys always” you squeeze John B once more after you feel him loosening his grip “Let’s go I got ice cream” as John B fist bumps you snort “Oh I also got a better first aid kit” handing John B the second bag you move to the passenger side of the car. Hearing John B go back into the house you grab the first aid kit and hear footsteps as you open the back seat door to grab blankets. 
“What are the blankets for,” JJ asks questionably moving over to you to help grab some and you see him eye the first aid kit before you tuck it into a blanket
“For movie night. You can’t have a horror movie night without tons of blankets JJ it’s like against the rules” You quickly come up with the excuse. In all honesty it was starting to get colder and knowing the Chateau has minimal heating capacity you were going to accidentally leave them in the house and let the boys use them. The last time you were here late you asked JJ to borrow a sweater or a blanket and he gave you the one he was wearing and soon realized it was probably the only one you’ve seen him wear ever. Noticing Kie always brought her own blanket you assumed they were more supplied for the warmer days. John B was a big boy he would ask for help when he needed it JJ, on the other hand, was stubborn as hell and would rather freeze then ask for anything to help. 
“Okay” JJ says questionably not believing you entirely but not questioning it further “Are you staying tonight?” He asks you can see a glimmer of hope in his ocean eyes as he leans against the car door
“Yeah I think so” you smile and nod at him closing the car up “Are you?”
“No I’m just asking you so you can share my bed with Kie” he deadpans and your cheeks flush 
“Sorry” you squint up at him and you see him smile his “sharky smile” “Are Pope and Kie staying too?” 
“I think so” he nods at you biting his lip and you know he wants to add something but doesn’t
“Can I share a bed with you?” You ask assuming that’s what he wanted to ask “if I have to share a room with both Pope and Kie I might jump off the end of the dock, plus I got those joints still and extra snacks” you chuckle out trying to bribe him like you even have to. You see relief and a cute smile grace his features and you know that’s what he was trying to ask without even asking 
“Yeah you can crash with me, I like you the most anyways” he winks at you and nods towards the house “Have you eaten yet?” He asks you softly as you walk up the driveway “Pope and John B went to help Heyward earlier while I went to work and apparently they ate already” JJ trails off and you frown knowing there hasn’t been food at the chateau in a couple of days and John B has been incognito
“I can make us food,” you say and he perks up “I haven’t eaten yet” you continue which is a lie but he doesn’t need to know that “I bought stuff to make that shrimp thing you were talking about the other day” and you see his face light up as you walk into the house you smile at him and you can see pink dust his cheeks at the fact you remembered that small detail. He puts the blankets down taking the ones in your hands as well and wraps you in a hug carrying you to the kitchen leaving you in a fit of laughter. You see Pope peek his head out over the freezer with raised eyebrows 
“What are you doing,” he asks confused as to why you’re wrapped in JJs arms 
“Get out Pope y/n is making our food” he throws a look at Pope as he sets you down making Pope return a hurt one 
“You guys suck” he huffs out going back into the living room 
JJ sits on the counter as you start to pull out ingredients to make his food, John B put the groceries away thankfully and you hum to a random tune 
“Thank you” JJ lets out in almost a whisper and you look up at him and see he’s playing with the rings on his fingers a nervous habit he has while looking at his lap not making eye contact 
“For what” you feign innocence even though his small thank you made your heart flutter knowing your efforts and little signs of affection didn’t go unnoticed by the blonde boy. Moving to the stove to heat it up JJ finally looks at you and he shrugs his shoulders softly before twiddling his thumbs in his lap
“For taking the time to care about me” he shrugs again like he’s not worth the effort, you go to say something and he cuts you off looking at you with his ocean eyes making you forget how to breathe for a second, sincerity is swimming through them and you can’t help the butterflies in your stomach “I know you had dinner with Kie already. She told me you guys were gonna eat at The Wreck during her break if I wanted to pass by before you went to run errands which I’m assuming was getting food for here” your face flushes at being caught lying about dinner “I also saw the first aid kit you bought, and Its a nice one. I almost stole one just like it from the pharmacy a while back and I know John B doesn’t need one that good” he goes back to looking at his thumbs “And I know the blankets aren’t just for the movie night” He shoots you a knowing look causing you to blush and smile at him, taking a moment in the comforting silence you assume the boys are outside messing around 
Humming you smile giddily not confirming or denying “Okay I’m gonna make you food now go away” you joke shooing him out of the kitchen 
He gasps in shock “You wound me” he clutches his chest with both his hands and falls back against the cabinets “Treating me how I treat Pope now that’s cold” He gets off of the counter still clutching his chest moving closer towards you 
“Leave” you squeal at him as he traps you in between his arms and the sink, he leans in and you think he’s going to finally kiss you, heart beating so fast you think he could hear it if he got any closer. His eyes flicker to your lips and back to your eyes as he licks his lips your breath hitches in your throat, he leans down to place a kiss on your cheek leaving the kitchen and going outside. Watching him retreat you finally let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. “Jesus Christ” you huff and go back to making his food with a big smile on your face 
____
“Holy shit” JJ practically moans at the smell coming in from the kitchen “I can’t even think of the last home cooked meal I’ve had what about you John B” You hear JJ ask as him as they walk back into the Chateau,
“Uh I think-” John B starts but is cut off by JJ 
“That was rhetorical bro shut up” you hear them walk into the living room and see them come into the kitchen “we know you have a secret kook family chill” JJ lets out referring to the fact that John B disappears some nights and during the day and no one knows why. Causing a laugh to come from you and a scoff from John B
“That smells delicious y/n” John B lets out which earns a mean look from JJ 
“You can’t have any” JJ says defensively “she made it for me and her you guys are all traitors eating without us” JJ winks at you “what happened to Pogues together for life” JJ adds pointing a finger at John B as you try to stifle a laugh grabbing plates 
John B looks at JJ with the most unamused look you’ve ever seen which causes a burst of laughter from you. Catching John B’s attention he gives you a look as if asking if JJ is serious, you shrug your shoulders as John B scoffs “I welcome you into my home JJ and this is how you repay me” He tsks opening a beer for you and placing it on the counter by your plates, he gives you a side hug and places a kiss on your forehead before retreating outside to help Pope and Kie with a projector she found in her garage. As he walks through the living room you hear “Eat your food dumbass, and if you don’t marry her I will” John B shouts out and you immediately turn to look at John B who has his beer raised in the air “Salud” and he walks out of the Cheateu. 
Turning to JJ his face is beat red and you let out a small laugh as JJ groans mumbling something about murdering John B “Here eat tough guy I’m gonna grab blankets for outside” you say as you place a plate in front of JJ. You’re about to walk into John B’s room when you feel JJ grab your hand 
“Stay please” he lets out a smile while tugging on your wrist gently patting the spot next to him, you can tell he wants to say something again but you can’t tell what its gonna be because he’s looking down at his plate of food. Your foot starts tapping the floor a nervous tick you have when you can’t tell how something is gonna play out. His head snaps to your knee placing his hand there gently to stop it and he looks up at you “Don’t do that, not around me” he lets out looking at you 
“wha-”
“You do that when your nervous or unsure of a situation” he squeezes your knee in a comforting motion giving you a small smile at your confused expression, “You think you’re the only one who notices things around here” he shoots you a look and his eyes go wide trying to cover up his confession with a chuckle 
“Do you JJ Maybank have feelings for little old me” you shoot him an amused look with a gasp. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out and he looks at you sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck while pink tints his cheeks 
“Hey, Lovebirds we got the movie set up come on” you hear John B yell from outside. You move to get up and JJ stops you looking up at you with a look of concentration before he exhales
“I like you y/n a lot actually and it’s scaring me. I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m not used to this or feeling wanted, hell even wanting to be around one person constantly is new for me. You are this incredible person who came out of fucking nowhere and the first thing you did was make sure everyone is taken care of. I didn’t even notice what you would do for me at first because I was so angry at everything. John B pointed it out to me when we found more of my favorite snacks in the cupboard than his” he let out a chuckle and you did too “He told me to stop being stupid and I realized then all the small things you would do for me like when I wouldn’t eat with you guys you brought food, or extra snacks on boat trips when you knew I was going home after, you and Kie would go shopping and you literally got me a hoodie because you told me it reminded you of me. No one has cared about me in the way you have and I’m so sorry for not realizing it sooner” you squeeze his hand gently reassuring him noticing his voice waiver “you’re so strong and stubborn but god if it didn’t make me fall for you harder, and I wasn’t gonna say anything because there is no way in hell that I’m good enough for you, I mean seriously I don’t know what you see-” cutting him off you place a kiss to his lips to shut him up, he places his hand on the side of your neck holding your jaw melting into the kiss. This is what heaven feels like you think. This blonde haired blue eyed prince. JJ breaks apart and rests his forehead against yours smiling like an idiot 
“I like you a lot actually too, if you couldn’t tell” you whisper out causing him to let out a laugh placing a chaste kiss to your lips, pulling you into his lap, your back to his chest as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck before you move to face him “Oh” you let out and he looks confused, you shoot him a look and he smirks. Hitting his chest playfully “get your head out of the gutter” 
“I know exactly where I would like my head to be” he smirks placing a kiss to your pulse. Rolling your eyes at him you start off “If I hear you talk bad about yourself I will fight you Maybank do you hear me” you look at him knowingly and he raised his eyebrows as if telling you to proceed “That is a fight you will lose every time. I can promise you,” you look at him softly “you deserve the world and all the love that comes with it, you care so much about your friends you’re willing to do anything to protect them literally anything” emphasizing the literally he lets out a chuckle “You are so kind, generous always giving even when you don’t have much yourself that’s what I love about you. There is more good than what you define yourself as and if you have doubts I will be more than glad to fight them with you” you let out rubbing your thumb on his cheek which he nuzzles into until he crashes his lips into yours again. 
“I thought you were eating, you haven’t even started are you kidding? YOU GUYS ARE MACKING we’ve been waiting for like 10 minutes” John B lets out from the doorway of the house raising his arms in a what the fuck motion, causing you both to laugh “J I’m proud of you for finally telling her, but Jesus come on guys the foods all cold, we don’t even have snacks because you’re distracting y/n, we’re dying out here” he fake whines 
“Sorry John B” you let out a smile knowing you usually prepare the snacks for movie nights but got distracted
“My girlfriend is not your Slave John B get your own snacks” JJ jokes holding onto you tighter
“Says the guy she made dinner for but hasn’t even touched it yet!” John B says dramatically “honestly the disrespect happening in this house, everything is all out of wack,” John B says going to the fridge and grabbing a case of beer and candy making his way back outside before he turns around heading back to you and JJ “Actually,” he says out loud before taking JJ’s plate with food taking a bite and moaning at the taste John B continues “I’m serious y/n if he doesn’t marry you I will” he gets out with a mouth full of food, moving slightly to avoid JJ arms that are trying to swat him for taking his food. John B walks out of the house leaving you two alone again 
“I’ll get you another plate, grab the blankets?” you ask chuckling as you move to get JJ another plate of food but he stops you. 
Taking his pinky ring off his finger he places it on your fingers trying to find the best fit, finally, it fits on your middle finger, a little loose but not by much, he chuckles “maybe I’ll get you a chain for it” he states chuckling he kisses your knuckles when he’s done “Not an engagement ring but a temporary promise ring until we get you a real one so John B can stop trying to steal you from me.”
“I think its perfect” He smiles bright placing a kiss on your lips and you know that this is exactly where you’re supposed to be
________
A/N: so I wrote another jj thing bc who is not a whore for jj especially soft jj. Roughly edited but not really, this has been floating in my head for a while so feedback and commentary is again always welcome my inbox is always open I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did Xx 
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lustbile-archive · 4 years
Text
In The Cards
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HaechanxReader
Word Count: 3.7k
Summary/Warning: Smut. Best friend Haechan wants you to read his tarot :( warning! very beginner tarot knowledge. all card interpretations found on the app golden tarot
Request: can i request a bestfriend-to-lovers hyuck where he and the reader share their first time together?
This is the third installment of my week of halloween fics. Info about possible blurb night here
“Please?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s weird.”
“How is it weird?”
“Haechan seriously,” you finally turn to face him as you lay side by side on your bed, the pout and puppy eyes he wears on his face the exact thing you had feared to see as you knew he had his ways of convincing you no matter what, “you’re asking me to do a reading on your love life.”
“And how is that weird?” his voice pitches as he turns to mirror you, now with you both on your sides and your phones tucked under your respective pillows you have no choice but to stare into his warm eyes. His body is dramatically lax as he relaxes into the mattress, already ready to toss his body around obnoxiously if you decide to deny him again.
“You’re my best friend dude, it would be weird to see what the cards say about your possible romantic activities,” you were somewhat telling the truth. Yes, you thought it would be kind of weird to see what your cards had to say about his love life, the idea being weirdly intimate for you, but you also knew that there was a small part of you, an evil yet insecure little gremlin that had made a home in your heart a few months before, that would take whatever they say directly to heart. You never anticipated forming romantic feelings for the boy in front of you, actually when you and Haechan had first started getting close you stubbornly denied that something like that happening was possible, yet here you were stupidly infatuated with the boy who lays in your bed wrapped warmly in a worn hoodie with your heart trapped between his teeth, “that and I’m not even that good at doing readings yet.”
“An even better reason to do it,” he sits up with a jolt of energy making you return to your place on your back to watch him, “so even if you do my reading, like you said you’re not that experienced so we won’t take what they say to heart right? It can just be for fun.”
Your eyes squint in disbelief as you try to read the look on his face. Regardless of his words, you know it wouldn’t just be for fun. Haechan had made it kind of obvious on the few occasions that tarot readings, and things related to things of that nature, were brought up, that he truly did believe it. Haechan had a whimsy about him, a belief and willingness to believe in things outside of himself, things he couldn’t really explain, and usually you’d find it incredibly endearing, but now it just helped in raising your stress levels.
“Come on dude,” his head tilts back and his face scrunches as he tries to convince you, his determination unfortunately making a smile start to pull onto your lips, “I’m bored and the ambiance is way too sexy right now for us to not do some witchy shit.”
Again, like always, he was unfortunately right. It was late into the night, nearing 3 am, and a storm raged loudly outside. The storm being the exact thing that had locked Haechan in your room to begin with as it had knocked your power out an hour or so before the time he was meant to leave, so he had decided to stay instead. He had claimed it was because he didn’t want to bother with traveling in the storm, but you could easily pick out the softness behind his eyes when you casually mentioned not wanting to be alone in the dark.
Along with the steady storm, you had also gathered your collection of candles and scattered them lit around the room, that and the quiet sounds of Florence + The Machine and Fleetwood Mac playing from the small speakers connected to your phone only supported Haechan’s argument. You two had perfectly crafted the perfect atmosphere to ask questions to some other force, and you can’t help but kick yourself for putting yourself in such a position.
“Okay fine,” you finally respond hesitantly, a grimace on your face and you move to sit up as well. You hate the way your chest tightens at his reaction to your words, an excited jump bouncing him in the air as he leans over to the table you keep to the side of your bed. The idea that he just knows exactly where you keep your things dances tauntingly in your mind and you angrily push it down as you move to sit facing him with your legs crossed underneath you.
“Found ‘em,” he whispers as he rifles through the drawer, a quiet triumphant noise squeaking from his chest as he moves to sit back in front of you, mirroring the way you sit with a smug grin on his face.
“Shuffle them a couple times for me,” you say, motioning to the deck in his hands, and he does so immediately. His fingers work slowly and gently, the fear of damaging the deck floating around his form. He splits it a few times, shuffling them together in a neat stack before he hands them to you like a devious cat happily offering their owner a dead mouse, and you smile softly at his consideration for your things.
“I’m only gonna do a three card pull okay? Past, present, and future okay?”
“Yeah, yeah that’s cool,” he nods excitedly as he shifts around where he sits, his anticipation slowly gaining on him, “I’m cool with whatever.”
“Okay give me a question to ask while I shuffle,” you command, your hands holding the deck as you get ready to shuffle, “it can be as detailed or vague as you want, the cards should understand what we're asking.”
“I just wanna know…’’ he hesitates for a moment, his lips caught between his lips as he thinks, “love life I-.... hm… I guess I want to ask it to show me the path my love life will take.”
You only nod in response before your eyes fall closed. Your heart beat picks up and your hands shake slightly in your nervousness, but regardless you begin to repeat the question in your mind as your hands begin to move. ‘Show me the path of Donghyuck’s love life’ you speak to your cards as they dance between your fingers, your hands much more rough than Haechan’s.
His breathing is almost deafening as it's the only human sound that hits you as you work, and you hear it catch when your hands stop moving.
Your eyes open again, and with a deep breath you lean forward to spread the cards out in front of him in the shape of a fan, “pick three and put them in my hand,” you command again with your hand held out flat, “whichever three speak to you.”
“Okay,” he whispers, his fingers moving to hover over the cards and the way he holds himself he looks as if you’ve just asked him to take a standardized test. He jolts slightly before grabbing the card below his hand, and it's quickly placed on your palm. His reaction when picking the other two are not much different, and after a minute or two you have all three cards and you’re gently collecting and setting the remaining cards to the side.
“Okay,” you start as you shift to get in a more comfortable position, “we’ll start with past.”
He nods as you move to lay down the first card you were handed, the card revealing itself to be The Lovers, their naked bodies and the angel that lives behind them almost taunting you and making you tongue stick dryly to the roof of your mouth.
“Okay..” you trail off as you glance at the boy in front of you, his eyes going slightly wild at the sight of the card in front of him, “now present.”
Wanting to get out of the situation as quickly as possible, you lay the next card down, and before you now lay the two of cups. Another pairing of people to stare as you squirm.
“Finally,” you huff moving to lay down the last card, “future.”
With a soft thud, you place the card down, the naked woman that floats in the center of The World card is impossible to ignore. Haechan hums quietly in consideration, his head bobbing slightly as his eyes move across the spread before him. He looks pensive for a moment when he looks up at you, until a playful grin takes over his features.
“What does any of this mean?” he asks with a laugh.
“Well,” you start moving to grab the book you keep next to your pillow that hold the different descriptions of the cards, scolding yourself for still not having them memorized, “none of them are reversed so that that as a good sign, and none of them are The Tower so you’re not doomed to die alone I suppose.”
He laughs again as he watches you flip through the book, your eyebrows knitted together as you search for the first card.
“Okay so, your past is The lovers,” you start, one hand resting on top of the card as your eyes shift around the page, “it represents partnership, union, duality, and choice. This says it means a union of harmony, full of trust, confidence and strength, This relationship both a physical attraction and a deep emotional bond between them.”
You stutter slightly as you read, your eyes darting up to gage his reaction once the words leave your mouth, his face is soft but serious as he thinks, and you can’t help but get overwhelmed by the look.
“Okay, and then present,” you hand shifts to the Two of Cups while your other hand flips to the correct page, “this card means unity, partnership and two become one…” you trail off slightly, hoping Haechan only assumes it’s from you trying to read the page and not for the real reason that is the words in front of you makes you heart beat harshly against your chest, “signaling a union and partnership of balance, honor, and respect, The ancient symbol of the caduceus also suggests energy, passion, and sex, and the intermingling of opposite forces.”
“Oh,” he responds involuntarily as he absorbs the words you speak, and you can only wish that you could crawl into his mind and see exactly what he’s thinking.
“Okay and lastly, your future,” you shift again, your previous position suddenly not feeling comfortable anymore, “The World card represents fulfillment, harmony, and completion. It says, absolute unity, perfection, accomplishment that draws from inner and outer sources. This card signals the harmony of the inner and outer worlds, and reaching a level of enlightenment. An era of one's life is complete and there is joy and celebration that is coming to welcome it.”
With a soft smacking noise, you shut the book and place it back to its spot next to your pillow. Your words still linger in the air with a tension wrapped around them, and in your desperation to avoid Haechan’s eyes you begin to return the cards to the deck, a silent thank you being spoken in your mind as you thank them for their knowledge.
“So what do you think about that?” he asks, his voice softer than earlier, the tone making your eyes dart up to try and read the emotion on his face.
“It’s not about what I think Hyuck…” you place the hair tie that lives on your wrist around the deck to secure it and place it on top of the book, and when your done you lean back onto the palms of your hands to survey his body language while also creating more distance between you, “it was your reading so it’s your interpretation, what did that tell you?”
The words come out like you’re trying to cough up years worth of chewed gum and the way they clog your throat makes you feel weird. It may be up to his interpretation, but you can’t stop the way the cards and their meanings make you feel as they wrap a confusing combination of hope and terror around your fragile heart.
“I think,” he starts as he once again moves to mirror the way you sit, a soft but unsure smile on his face, “they told me exactly what I needed to hear.”
“And what was that Hyuck?”
“Well you know, the whole emphasis on partnership, and union, and choices. If anything i’m starting to think your cards like me a little bit cause they kind of told me exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“And what was it you wanted to hear Haechan?” you ask, his smugness and confidence making you laugh quietly.
“That I’m not putting my hope or my heart in the wrong place. I think it’s saying that I’m right in wanting the thing I want so badly.”
“Jeez Donghyuck,” you huff as you fall to lay back onto your side, a giddy feeling flooding you as he once again follows suit, “you speak in more riddles than the cards do.”
“Oh do you want me to tell you straight forward what those cards just told me?” he asks rhetorically as he lays close enough for his face to crowd you personal space, his breath occasionally hitting your skin.
“Well yeah, lay it on me Hyuck, what did those cards encourage you to do?”
“I’ll fucking lay it on you alright,” he doesn’t even give you the time to form the question in your mind of what he could possibly mean before he’s on the move. He’s on you before you can blink, his body pushing you onto your back and his hands landing against your bed next to your head and caging you in. Your body reacts before your mind does, and your hands are gripping his wrists and you legs are falling to the side to allow him to rest between your thighs, as he knocks the air from your lungs with his mouth pressing against yours.
You both let out matching hums in content at the feeling of each other’s lips. You’d call yourself a liar if you said you had never imagined what it would be like to kiss the boy that now rests on top of you, but no matter how many hours you had logged dreaming about the very moment, none of it prepared you for now.
He rests his body flush against yours as his lips work against yours, and there’s only a beat of time before his tongue is brushing against your bottom lip, begging for entrance.
You break away, the idea of him feeling the same way as you filling you with childish excitement and confidence, so much that you can’t stop yourself before you’re teasing, “so my cards told you to attack me?”
“Hush,” he pecks against your lips once before speaking again, “they told me I was completely in the right for being in love with my best friend, and that making a move would only end in happiness.”
“You’re in love with me?” you ask, those being the only words that stick in your mind, Your hands tighten around his wrists, and the skin of his face flushes in realization of what he said.
“Uh… yes,” his eyes are filled with his nerves as they lock onto yours. The internal debate he has with himself of wanting to tear his eyes away while being completely unable to is transparent and puts you at ease at the idea that he’s just as nervous as you, “I’m sorry if that’s really abrupt, but I really am.”
“Donghyuck,” you whisper, leaning up to nudge the tip of your nose against his, “I’m in love with you too.”
“Thank fuck,” he swears louder than intended, and you giggles of happiness is smothered by his lips latching to yours again.
There’s no asking this time as his tongue shoves its way into your mouth, and you let out a pleased groan when the moment he licks at the back of your teeth, his hips shift down and he begins to softly grind against the crotch of the thin fabric of your pajama shorts.
“Tell me,” he speaks between open-mouthed kisses that he places across you mouth and up your jaw, his words doing their own licking against the shell of your ear, “tell me if you want to stop, cause I don’t think I can.”
“I trust you Hyuck,” you whisper during the fleeting second that your mouth is free, “do whatever you want, I’m so in love with you.”
He groans loudly at the string of words that leave you, the noise cutting through and disrupting the smooth voice of Stevie Nicks and his body returns to rocking gently against yours.
Your hands trail away from his wrists, moving up his forearms and up until your fingers tangle in his hair. The slight tugging you give to his roots pulls another groan from his mouth, and the sparks of pleasure that hits your lower stomach at the sound combined with his hardening length pressing against you through the thick fabric of his sweatpants makes you feel like you could live in this moment forever.
You can feel your growing arousal spilling from you, the wetness making the fabric of your underwear stick to your skin, and at the feeling of him suddenly bumping gently against your clit makes you squeak as you hips begin meeting his thrusts with their own.
“Please,” you whimper out when his mouth latches onto the skin stretched over your jugular, “want it. Need you.”
“I’m gonna keep you up all night,” he growls the promise against your neck, “I have so much time to make up for.”
He sits up, a smile of pride on his face when you huff at the loss of him. You only get a few sounds of discontent out before his hands are grabbing at the fabric of your shorts, and shoving them down your legs, your ruined underwear following. The fabric is tossed behind his shoulder, and in his impatience, his hands are rough as they grab at your thighs. He pulls you, bringing you down the bed to be closer to him, before he’s pushing his own pants down to bunch at his hips, his tip brushing against you and making you jump as he slaps against his stomach.
You squirm as he returns to his place flush against you, both at the sudden feeling of the room’s air hitting your damp skin and the way his length glides against you. You can feel your arousal smearing against him, and in your desperation, you’re grabbing his face and pulling back down to meet your lips again.
Laying there, pressed as tightly together as you can be with your mouths devouring the other’s, you feel him reach between your bodies. His fingers only take a moment to dip into you, gathering your wetness on his fingers, before he’s using it to coat his length more than it already is.
He pulls at himself a few times, the moans he lets out at the friction being swallowed by you, before he’s pressing into you without warning.
The stretch and the idea of your best friend being the one that is so suddenly fucking into you has you reeling. You feel overtaken by the feeling of whiplash, and as he pushes into you inch by inch, you let out a moan that lived deep in your belly.
He pauses when he’s fully inside of you, the depth that he reaches as the girth of him making your eyes begin to roll wildly and before you can catch your breath his hips are retreating.
His pace is rough. He’s slow, and he doesn’t pull but a few inches out, but every time he returns to your body, it's a harsh thrust that knocks the air from your lungs.
It’s not long before you feel overwhelmed, the way the cozy heat from the candles and the thick fabric of his clothes as they brush against you licks at your skin and sinks you into the mattress. His mouth refuses to separate from yours, and his thrusts are consistent and unrelenting.
You’re sure you’ve never felt more held in your life as your wrapped up with your best friend, one of his hands moving to hold the side of your face while the other travels down to play with the sensitive nerves of your clit. The gentle way his hands move against you contrasted by the rough way he fucks into you has you clinging desperately to his hoodie as warm tears well up in your eyes.
One of your hands moves down as you get closer, your nails digging into the fabric that covers his ass as you desperately try to pull him closer than he already was. This and the way your hips start bucking against him makes him groan as you two get tangled in your sheets.
You feel the tingling warning of your orgasm running up your spine, a crackling moan feeding into his mouth from yours and the way you softly clench around him being his only warning before you come with a cry.
His hips stutter as he follows quickly behind, a very similar sound of bliss slipping from his mouth as you two begin to shake against each other.
You feel like you’ve been sewn into his skin as you twitch together with aftershocks, him equally as unwilling to separate his body from yours. Once he pulls his hand from between your bodies, his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and he pulls you tightly into his chest as he lays his full weight on you, and you legs wrap around him as you refuse to let him slip out of you.
“We’re going again in a minute,” his voice rasps as he presses his face into your shoulder, his nose nuzzling against the skin.
“Really?” You ask with a laugh as your hands return to their job of running through his hair.
“Yes I just need a minute,” he promises, and you shiver as his hips start to shift already without him even thinking, “it’s what your cards would have wanted.”
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prismatales · 3 years
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Word Count: 1.2k
Pairing: Mirio Togata x Reader
Tags/Warnings: Fluff fluff and more fluff, Mirio being a nervous wreck, little pinch of insecurities.
Hello there! It’s been a while but I’m back with some BNHA Fluff starring the sunshine boy himself! This is my entry for Anilysium’s sfw Collab. This month the prompt was “Accidental Kiss”, you can find the masterlist with everyone’s works here! 
This idea has been sitting in my wips since September and it was the perfect opportunity to work on it! Hope you guys enjoy it! Special thanks to @vivianvampyric for beta reading, I loved all of your suggestions, baby!
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No matter how many times you thought about it, every single time was just as hilarious.
How can somebody as brave, cheerful and fearless as Mirio Togata be as nervous as his childhood friend, Tamaki Amajiki, at the idea of a confession? The same guy who faced the head of the Yakuza without hesitation is currently sitting beside you with rosy cheeks, looking around the park nervously while one hand brushes the back of his neck.
“So, you wanted to talk about something, right?”
When he asked you to meet him in the park during the weekend, you never expected this outcome. It’s almost like you’re standing before a completely different person as he continues to look away.
“Ahaha… it’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” He asks.
“Ah, yes it is.”
The way Mirio avoids the question confuses you, but it’s the way his hand clutches his knee anxiously, the way he coughs lightly, and the way his eyes avoid you to watch  the children playing nearby,  that makes your eyes widen slightly.
Could it really be what you think it is?
The more you look at him, it becomes more obvious that he’s having a hard time expressing his thoughts.
“We’ve known each other for a while now, haven’t we?” He stated simply as you nodded in response. 
“Yeah, remember the first time we met?” He groans as you giggle at the memory. During your U.A. entrance exam you ended up in the same testing area as Mirio. He could almost hear your shrill cries of embarrassment after he used his quirk in front of you for the first time. “Talk about first impressions, huh?”
Neither of you can stop laughing at the memory, thinking of all the good times from high school as well as the bad, which only helped you grow stronger.
You both went through hardships, providing each other a shoulder to lean on. But maybe you could be more than that one day…?
“You’re sweating a lot. Mirio, are you sure you’re okay?” He just nods quickly, pulling at the collar of his shirt that suddenly feels awfully suffocating. Despite all the emotions running wild through his head, he never stops smiling,  which is something you will never stop admiring, no matter what. It’s exactly that optimism that made you develop feelings for him in the first place.
“I’m fine, I'm fine! I just… There’s something I’ve wanted to ask for a long time.” He stays quiet for a short period. Once he takes a long, deep breath that soothes his nerves, his whole attitude shifts instantly.
With the confidence of a thousand men, Mirio rises from his seat on the bench to stand before you with a determined look on his face. It’s a simple gesture, but it’s more than enough to make the heat in your face grow within a matter of seconds, paralyzing you in place as you stare back at him with the fabric of your sundress clutched tightly between your fists.
After taking another breath, Mirio finally gathers the courage he needed to speak.
“We’ve known each other for a while now, and you’re also one of my closest friends.” Did he just friendzone you? “You’ve always been there for me, from the moment we walked into the same classroom, to all those times we needed help watching Eri. And we never stopped talking even after graduating, and I love having you around.”
What is this weird aching inside your chest? It’s almost like there’s something crawling its way through your ribcage, slowly approaching your heart to crush it in a deathly grip.
“Ahaha… yeah, it’s unbelievable, isn’t it?” You almost want to whimper on the spot, feeling like a small child after being scolded by their parents: Small, sad and vulnerable. It’s too good to be true, isn’t it? That the guy you’ve had a crush on for years feels the same way about you? 
You snap out of those negative thoughts when he takes your hands in his own. They’re much bigger than yours and covered in scars; you can feel the texture of each and every single one, all proof of all his hard work and dedication.
“The thing is,” his thumb traces small circles on top of your hand, making your heart beat faster against your chest. “I want to be more than friends with you!”
It’s incredible how a couple of words have such strength, enough to make the hammering in your chest intensify at a deafening pace that you swear even Mirio can hear. The words stay jammed in your throat, unable to come out through your trembling lips, which you lick nervously.
You’re so nervous that all of your senses feel like they’ve been amplified. Everything sounds so far and so close at the same time. The pounding in your chest, the lively chirping of the birds, the children playing behind Mirio: they sound closer than before, the noises blurring together into an incoherent mess.
“I love how you help everyone around you. How brave and fearless you are. That little scrunch of your nose whenever you’re deep in thought. That cute laughter of yours. I want to—!”
The sound of a loud smack can be heard in the distance, followed by a surprised shout from Mirio. All of sudden, you feel a blunt pain on your forehead as Mirio is suddenly pushed forwards and his face smashes painfully against yours. At the same time, a soft pair of lips come crashing down upon yours and his blue eyes are wide open as they stare into yours. There’s a shrill ringing in your ears as you’re trying to process everything going on.
Mirio’s body is draped over yours, one of his hands pressed firmly against the back of the bench to stop the fall. Neither of you move from the shock, caught off guard by the sudden change of events. Your mind is a cloudy mess when Mirio’s lips finally part from your own, leaving you both in a daze.
“I’m sorry sir!” A small voice snaps you out of it as Mirio turns around in surprise. One of the children from before is standing nearby, holding a red ball with an embarrassed smile. Are they sorry because they hit Mirio with the ball or because they interrupted?
You don’t know, but keep staring silently at their small frame as they run away with that ball clutched in their tiny hands.
“Hahaha...Talk about unexpected.” Once again, Mirio’s scratching the back of his head, chuckling as he looks away in embarrassment. But hearing those familiar giggles of yours makes him look back at you. “Everything okay?”
“You know, people usually start dating first before sharing their first kiss. But that was nice too.”
Mirio blinks repeatedly, processing your words over and over as you stand up from your seat, trying to smooth the wrinkles in your dress after clutching the fabric so hard.
“Does that mean... what do I think it means?” 
“...Yeah, it does.” Your head is tilted gently to the side. “I like you too, Mirio. And I feel the same way.” 
“Good,” He grabs your hands again, slowly lacing your fingers together. “Good. Can I… kiss you again?”
“Mhmm, just be careful of flying balls this time.”
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Taglist (If your name is in bold I couldn't tag you.)
@bnha-ra @godtieruwu @hanniejji @mysticalite @savagetrickster @shoobirino @songsforbnha @sugacookiies @unbreakableeiji @pixxiesdust @hawks-senseis @yikerb @definitely-yours @khemz1312 @sadskater25 @ruinedbyatrashcan @lemonadencran @honeytama
95 notes · View notes
onlyangelcas · 3 years
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boats and a blue-eyed birthday boy
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The boat won’t start, because that’s just Dean’s luck. His son is inside, celebrating his 4th birthday, and his surprise gift is malfunctioning right before the big reveal.
Ever since Dean, Cas, and Jack moved out of the bunker and into their cottage-style lake house, Jack had been obsessed with the water. He was enthralled by the lake, spending hours on the dock watching the fish swim by or dipping his feet in on warm days. Cas fueled his interest by purchasing every book and guide about lake-dwelling creatures and plants.
Jack’s obsession was pushed even further when their elderly neighbor had offered to take him fishing on his boat. From that moment on, boats became all the rage in the Winchester home. Books about boats moved in next to the lake books on Jack’s bookshelf, his cowboy themed bed sheets were swapped for a set adorned with tiny sailboats. Dean and Cas had to practically restrain him from pestering their neighbor for a boat ride everyday.
That’s how Dean found himself purchasing a repaired boat from some guy in southwest Minnesota. He had made the drive to pick up the boat a few weeks ago, it was relatively affordable, not a luxury speedboat or ridiculous pontoon, but perfect for about 6 people to climb on board for a day of fishing or relaxing on the water. Dean had made a plan with El, their elderly neighbor, to keep the boat stored in his garage until Jack’s birthday. El was happy to help, even took apart the motor to make sure everything was working and got it in the water that morning to surprise Jack.
Now, Dean is huffing over the damn thing, trying to decipher why it won’t start. Everyone else, including El, the only person that could actually help him, is inside trying to keep Jack distracted while Dean preps the boat.
“Shit,” Dean curses, after another failed attempt at turning the engine over.
He slams his forehead into the steering wheel, frustrated tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Four was the worst year of Dean’s life, for obvious reasons, and he wanted to make sure that Jack’s fourth year was everything that his wasn’t. He knows it’s stupid, to get this worked up over a freaking boat, but this boat was so much more than that. It was a promise to Jack that he would always be there, he would always love him. So if he’s a little emotional over the possibility that this boat will ruin his son’s very important 4th birthday, who can blame him?
Dean turns his face toward the sky, the sun peaking through the tree branches to warm his skin. He thinks this is a moment he would pray, if he had anyone to pray to. Considering his two favorite angels are already inside the house, it seems kind of arbitrary. Instead he just looks at the sky, watches puffy white clouds drift by lazily, and wonders pointlessly about what he did to deserve this.
“Looks like you could use some help.” Says a gravelly voice Dean instantly recognizes as belonging to El.
He runs a hand across his face, quickly wiping away any evidence of tears. “You think you can get this thing going?”
“I should have told you earlier, you got to give it some gas as you turn the key.” El says simply, nudging Dean out of the way before pressing his foot to the accelerator and starting the boat.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Dean declares, slapping a hand to the other man’s back. “I thought the day was ruined.”
El laughs, adjusting his trucker cap and turning to face Dean with a serious look. “Boy, you think this boat not running would have ruined the day?”
Dean cocks his head to the side slightly, a mannerism he’s picked up from Cas after all these years. “Would have been a bummer if Jack’s surprise tanked.”
“You coulda given that kid an old thing with a couple of paddles and he woulda been ecstatic.” El smiles, clapping his shoulder affectionately. “All he really wants is something to share with you.”
In moments like these, El reminds him of Bobby so much that it almost knocks the wind out of him. There’s a lump in Dean’s throat, he quickly turns his head toward the ground and lets out a wet laugh.
“You and Cas,” El starts again. “And I guess Sam helped out, too. You guys raised that boy right, he doesn’t need things to be happy, he just needs people.”
Dean looks up, his glossy eyes meeting El’s, he gives him a soft smile. “Now, how’s about we go get that kid and show him his gift.”
“Yeah,” Dean laughs. “It’s showtime.”
El promises to keep watch of the boat while Dean jogs back up to the house. He pulls open the backdoor and immediately bumps into Kaia, who is looking at him guilty with her hands tight around Claire’s waist.
“Really? This is a birthday party for a 4 year old.” Dean attempts to scold, but there’s no real heat to it.
“Sorry!” Kaia yells as Claire says, “Who died and made you a patron saint?”
Dean laughs loudly at that, pressing a kiss to the side of Claire’s head as he passes. He makes his way into the kitchen, where Sam and Eileen are putting the finishing touches on Jack’s birthday cake.
Where’s Cas? He signs when Eileen catches his eye.
Living room. She signs back, giving him a warm smile.
He can hear Rowena’s laughter filling the room before he even steps over the threshold. She’s standing to the side of the living room, deep in conversation with Jody and Donna. Jack is on the floor with Alex, talking animatedly while he secures one of her braids with a bright pink hair tie. Jack’s wearing a red cowboy hat with a t-shirt that says ‘This is my 4th rodeo’, the shirt was Cas’ idea, along with the matching ‘Jack’s 4th Rodeo’ shirts that everyone in attendance is adorning.
Cas is perched on the sofa, watching Jack and Alex with a fond look in his eyes. Dean slides his hand across Cas’ shoulders and bends down to plant a sweet kiss against his lips. “It’s go time.”
Cas smiles excitedly as Dean sticks his hands under Jack’s armpits and pulls him to his feet. He reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a bandana that he begins to fasten over Jack’s eyes.
“Alright everyone, it’s time for Jack’s big surprise.” Dean says as he secures the bandana around Jack’s head. “Head out to the backyard so we can show our birthday boy his present.”
Everyone files out the backdoor and into the yard behind the house. Dean and Cas each take one of Jack’s hands in their own, leading him toward the dock.
“Okay buddy,” Cas says once the three of them reach the rocky shoreline, the rest of their family gathered behind them. “You ready?”
“Yes! I’m ready!” Jack nearly squeals.
Sam has his phone out, no doubt recording the moment so no one ever forgets it, as if they ever would.
“Everyone countdown with me,” Dean says, reaching for the bandana.
“Three… two… one!” The group counts off in unison as Dean releases the bandana in one swoop.
Jack stands there slack-jawed and in awe for a moment, clearly overwhelmed by the sight in front of him. “A boat?” He asks more than states.
“Yeah, baby, it’s for you.” Dean says, a little confused by the 4 year old’s reaction.
Jack turns to him and Cas, his hands still holding tightly onto theirs. “Our boat?”
“Yeah, Jack, your daddy picked it out for us.” Cas states, running a hand through Jack’s hair.
Jack releases both of their hands then, throwing his arms around Dean’s neck so aggressively that he tumbles from his crouched position onto his butt. “Thank you daddy!”
Dean buries his face into Jack’s neck, hiding his suddenly teary eyes, and says, “Happy birthday kiddo.”
Jack pulls away and places his small hands on the sides of Dean’s face before leaning in and pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “I love you daddy.”
Dean huffs a wet laugh, looking over Jack’s shoulder to see his family watching with eyes as shiny as his own.
“I love you more, Jack.” He says, smacking an equally sloppy kiss to his forehead. “Now, how ‘bout we take it for a spin?”
“Papa too?” Jack asks, eyes lighting up.
Dean looks up at Cas, who has tears slipping unashamedly down his cheeks, and smiles. “Yeah, papa too.”
After they get Jack secured in his life vest, he takes his spot at the front of the boat, kneeling on the seat and leaning precariously over the edge to watch the boat carve through the water. Cas is seated next to him, one hand looped tightly in the back of his life vest, and Dean is at the wheel. The sun is setting over the horizon, reflecting off the lake and painting them in a picture-perfect orange glow.
Jack looks back at Dean, his blonde hair curling slightly from the spray of the boat, his gap-toothed smile is wide and unapologetic. Cas is looking at him, too, affection and love spilling over every feature, his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin.
“I hope I can be 4 forever!” Jack yells, letting out a wild laugh as Cas reaches over to tickle his neck.
Dean knows, somewhere in the back of this mind, that he should be worried that Jack is getting older. One day he’ll grow up, probably move away, and their house will no longer be littered with plastic sailboats and tiny socks discarded around every corner. At this moment, though, he can’t find it in himself to worry. Jack won’t be 4 forever, but he’s sitting in front of Dean with a smile like sunshine, toothy and perfect, laughing raucously, unashamed in his joy, and that will always be enough.
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