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queenimmadolla · 1 year

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ive just seen a tweet that gave me major penny vibes 😭

‘aunty i need help’

‘what with?’

‘the swan’

there was a swan in their living area 🫣

this cracked me up because it’s something I’ve thought about writing before just not with a swan. we’ve got a goose problem in my area during this time of year and those bitches are annoying and mean, so I changed it a little to match up since this ask is too much of a sign for me to ignore, hope you like it!

Duck, Duck, Goose

(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader fluff)

part of the pennyverse

“Mom.”

“Mama.”

“Mommy.”

“Mom.”

Finally, Penny got tired of simply calling for you, choosing to reach out and poke you repeatedly as well.

You stirred with a groan, shifting around in the bed to face where she stood at your side. It was difficult but you pried an eye open to peer at her and she looked innocent enough.

You’d been taking a nap (first sign that something was wrong, you weren’t ever woken up from your naps to something normal) after having unpacked the last box, making this little house officially the Munson home. Well, kind of. With Corroded Coffin finally catching some attention, you and Eddie hadn’t wanted to buy an actual house yet or set down permanent roots in case (and god, you hoped it would happen) something big happened to them. So, after about two years of renting an apartment, you simply switched to renting a house.

Of course that meant you had to go through the annoyance that was moving again, and with two kids. You loved them but they were essentially useless in the process.

Wayne, having learned how to walk and clumsily run about, in his excitement had even managed to knock over an entire box of fragile items the other day. Eddie was distracting him, playing a couple of songs outside on the porch swing with him in his lap while you got the last of your stuff settled.

You thought you could squeeze in a half hour of rest, but apparently not.

“What is it, Pen?”

“I need help.”

“With what?” You sighed, pushing yourself up out of bed. You’d switched into some sleep shorts earlier and figured she’d spilled some juice or something, so pajamas would suffice.

“The swan.”

You should have been paying attention to what she was saying but you were too distracted, having noticed Wayne was by her side. He was too small to appear unless you looked over the high bed or got up. Wasn’t he supposed to be with Eddie?

“Where’s your dad?” You asked, brows furrowing in concern.

Wayne just grinned, putting his fingers in his mouth (another habit he picked up from Eddie).

“Owsigh.”

“Let’s go find him then.” You ran a hand through his ‘curl hawk’, as Eddie had dubbed it, while you slipped past him. Penny found it oddly important to be ahead of you so she ran from the room before you could make it to the door.

Wayne trailed behind you, babbling nothing in particular. He and Penny were proving to be opposites. She’d taken to words faster than she’d taken to motor skills while Wayne had an easier time with his motor skills than he did with talking. He’d simply been watching Eddie pace around the living room one day when he’d decided to stand up and walk, toddling after him. There was no real error, either, just surprisingly calculated footsteps. He’d been a little clumsy—that was to be expected—but for the most part he didn’t really fall. He refused to say much, though, only voicing things when pointing failed him.

Penny stood at the end of the hallway which led into the living room, blinking lazily.

You were about to ask her what was wrong when you happened to glance into the living room, once, twice and then shrieked, backing up until your back hit the wall.

“PENNY!”

“What?”

“Why is there a wild animal in my living room!?”

“‘S a swan.”

“No, it is not!”

There was no graceful looking swan in your living room, just a big, ugly canadian goose slowly moseying its way around the coffee table like it owned the place.

It turned its head in your direction, its beady eyes looking at you, probably, and you shrieked again. You heard the sound of hurried footsteps outside before Eddie appeared from the very much so open front door, looking slightly disheveled.

“What’s wrong?” He demanded, eyes roaming over you, Penny and Wayne to make sure none of you were harmed.

You jabbed a finger in the direction of the bird, just standing and staring at you menacingly.

“Oh, what the fuck? Oh, shit. Daddy said bad words, don’t say those.” Eddie scratched the back of his head as he stared at the goose occupying his living room. “How the heck did that get in here?”

“I was about to ask you that.” You hissed, glaring at him.

“Don’t look at me, I fell asleep on the porch swing with Wayne.” You directed a pointed look at the two year old behind you. “Well, he was with me!”

“She came in.” Penny chirped, brushing a curl out of her face.

You both turned to her.

“What?” Eddie asked, crouching down so he was closer to eye level with her.

“The swan. She was waiting outside, so I let her in.” Penny was referring to your porch door. One of the reasons you liked the house so much was because of the porch, it was closed off and secured with screens and a door so you could let the kids out for some fresh air without them wandering off.

“Penny, what have we told you about opening the door?” Eddie chided with a frown, not at all entertained with the idea of his little girl letting people in after drilling her about stranger danger.

“Not to open it for strangers. But I didn’t, daddy. She’s a swan. Not a people.” Penny seemed almost smug about having outsmarted him.

Eddie was baffled, mouth opening and closing as he struggled for a response.

“Baby, that’s a goose, not a swan.” It was the only thing he could think of.

“Oh.” Immediately, Penny seemed less interested in it, rolling her eyes.

The goose squawked, flapping its wings as it hopped onto your coffee table.

“Eddie get that stupid duck out of here!” You yelled, fearing for the cleanliness of your furniture. You’d clean up after your kids’ accidents but not some bird’s.

“‘S a goose, mom.”

“Yes, I know that, Penny.”

“You called it a duck.”

“Baby, are you afraid of the duck?” Eddie turned his attention to you, brown eyes alight with mirth.

“‘S a goose.”

“No! I am not afraid of the duck! I just—it’s gonna poop on the table! Get it out!”

“Gus.” This time Wayne mumbled, squatting down to mimic his dad as he observed the bird.

“Oh, but I think you are. Tell you what, you just admit it, and I’ll get it out of the house.” Eddie stood back up and leaned against the wall with a smirk.

“I told you I’m not afraid.” You glowered, eyes darting from Eddie to the stupid goose.

“Then go pick it up and put it outside.” You were surprised Eddie’s face didn’t just split in half with how wide his smirk was, even Penny was giggling at your expense.

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

“I will.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Then go do it.”

You huffed and slowly made your way to the goose, halting every time its attention was on you, the sound of your family snickering in the background. When it went back to looking around at its surroundings you leaned down and reached out only to jump back with a scream as it craned it’s neck around to hiss (how the fuck could a bird hiss???) and snap its beak at your hands.

You ran back to Eddie, cowering in his arms with your face hidden in his chest as it shook with laughter. Penny was laughing so hard she’d fallen over, feet kicking against the ground and Wayne had joined her, clutching his little tummy as he squirmed around with glee.

“My poor baby,” Eddie pressed his lips to your forehead, grinning against it as he tried to calm himself enough to speak. “Is the bird being mean to you?”

You didn’t respond, just burrowed your face further into the soft material of his hoodie as you nodded.

“It’s okay. I’ll protect you.” He gave you a squeeze, hand reaching down to pat your ass before he stepped around you to handle the bird. You watched, as he easily grabbed it, tucking its wings in and gripping its beaks so it couldn’t move its head around, then he disappeared outside and returned a few moments later, smug and without the goose.

Penny and Wayne’s roaring laughter had dulled down to giggling as they stared up at you, looking like they’d almost exhausted themselves with it.

“I don’t want to hear a single word.” You warned him as he neared you, sporting a devilish smirk.

It wasn’t Eddie you had to be worried about, Penny made a large squawking sound behind you, astoundingly similar to that stupid goose’s and you practically leaped into Eddie’s arms, setting them all off again.

This time you joined them, a hand over your eyes as Eddie held you.

“New rule, Penny. You are so not allowed to open doors that unlock anymore.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #dilf!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #girl dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x black!reader #pennyverse #pennyverse asks #pennyverse headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic

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fictionfixations · 5 days

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masquerade malleus vignette

(spoilers for glorious masquerade)

aww

i refuse to believe lilia is oblivious enough not to notice that they dont like his cooking

..although solomon (from obey me) doesnt notice either iirc, but i mean..

..sebek. in a vignette, you literally got his help in cleaning a stain from malleus' labcoat???

...i never thought id hear azul say those words.... what?????

i dont know how it didnt hit me until now but the only reason rollo's plan in glorious masquerade failed was because he was so insistent on having malleus there and taking away all his power and shit?? like. cause. none of us had enough magic to actually overpower the fire lotuses(? i cant remember what they were called), although yuu would be able to make it through with no magic how could we even fight rollo at the end??

and at the point it reaches malleus and he could do something about it, it'd be too late?? because i REALLY doubt he has enough to reach all of those flowers and with enough to completely fry them out. and i doubt the bell would reach it by then.

silver...

is azul even human?? im like pretty sure-ish he's not human. not even half human. just entirely sea creature with a human-like body to probably be treated more normally and not hunted for sport/food through evolution shit idfk (like. idk im pretty sure its a thing where pets look so much cuter to cause us to take them in and shit.)

anyway im just imagining sebek talking azul's ear off about how great malleus is because he finally has a buddy who understands and therefore would be willing to listen to him talk for hours straight about malleus's greatness. AND APPRECIATE IT. HAUIHDSUIhd and azuls just like ………………….. floyd and jade laughing at him from a distance azul sets sebek on them like 'i think those two should come to learn about malleus's brilliance, don't you think? after all, as my colleagues, it is such a shame that they don't share my admiration for malleus, and i am unsure how to put it into words, as malleus himself is so magnificent that even words fail to describe him properly. so sebek, my fellow appreciator, would you lend me your aid in helping them grow to appreciate his brilliance?' okay i ran out of words and started repeating them because ic ant be bothered to look up for synonyms, im not THAT into it okay

ahhh so it is a fleur city song i wasnt sure. ive read in fics that it was, but it was also those fics where songs either have power, or yuu knows a bunch of disney songs that are considered 'forbidden/forgotten songs' or something like that and i cant remember which it was

actually if they put in all that work beforehand i think i get why they were so insistent on waiting for rollo to either confess or not AFTER the social ball and after they left and everything LMFAO

they suddenly changed into their school uniforms (still in diasomnia)

i honestly wouldnt know if id trust lilia that much but sure (i hope it doesnt turn to perfectionism levels tho)

first time we encounter italicized text i think. huh.

lmfao

oh my god (no but why choose idia at that point?? is it cuz his voice meshes well with them??)

ayoo its playing the make a wish (i think thats what the song is called) instrumental in the bg ive heard it way too many times not to recognize it (and sung along. its so fucking cool)

damn

my hands are actually protesting now ah geez (i took a break)

I GOT SO DISTRACTED BY DEUCE (i was re-experiencing enjoying looking at everyones costumes again) I AM AN IDIOT (its lower in opacity to show you that you're on it in the editor)

ooh

i didnt notice the insert paragraph im sorry lMFAO but id forget if i didnt SS it then

ooh some malleus riddle bonding

AH ITS A YUU JUMPSCARE

that seriously startled me like suddenly i just hear footsteps and then BOOM OPTIONS

ayooo malleus and yuu dancing

(alsoo yuu and deuce dancing :D)

WOOO

okay. now.

i feel like. im doing really good progress tackling all the vignettes (currently in EN. after that's GloMas, & Book 6 and 7. ive been avoiding it because not all of the Backgrounds exist, and GloMas has options with completely different dialogue which I can't see them all. i have three different videos of GloMas gameplay but they dont show all options...). all thats remaining is azul's tsumsitter (i have a vid of his vignette. ..i just dont like doing the tsum ones because i never know how to describe the tsum moving) vil birthday bloom (i FOUND A VIDEO finally oh my god. i love doing birthday vignettes) malleus dorm uniform (I have a vid) sebek new year (i have a vid) grim labcoat (i have a vid)

and then the rabbit costume ones which all of them have vignettes iirc and i have videos for all of them (i actually just found them as i was writing this. thank you god. they have no views tho geez. wonder if that means vil birthday bloom exists in a video but just wont appear. this is future me. ...i have been blessed with vil birthday bloom.)

#malleus draconia #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst vignettes #twst events #twst spoilers #glorious masquerade #twst #thoughts

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parttimesiffrinfulltimeproblem · 4 months

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song analysis of michael caine by madness in relation to siffrin!!

[plain text of title: song analysis of michael caine by madness in relation to siffrin!!]

having recently gotten into ISAT and spent considerable time with my qpp discussing songs that fit siffrin, I've come to the conclusion that it is SUCH a sif song. PLEASE hear me out on this (ive no idea if theres an overlap between isat fans and random british ska band fans but if there is then hi!)

putting this under a read more both because its gonna be long and contain spoilers for pretty much the whole deal with ISAT. also apologies if I fail to pick up my autocorrect making me type 'saffron'

okay so. chronologically through the song theres just a Lot that makes me think of him. this may entirely be a reach but im too big a fan of this song to mind :]

'he's walking where I'm afraid I don't know/I see the firemen jumping from the windows/there's panic and I hear somebody scream'-- immediately the sense of disorientation and confusion that goes throughout both the song and siffrin. also the lack of subjects in the last line (who's panicking/screaming?) further gives this sort of like. unanswered questions that I think really fits sif and their whole. deal

'he picks up useless paper and puts it in my pocket'-- this is sif in the sense of how throughout the loops they become far more disillusioned with how much anything really matters. it all starts to pale in comparison to escaping the loop, and this especially resonates with the complete tunnel vision in the final loop. ALSO the inconsistencies in the entire song between first and third person remind me of the recurring ideas of like. identity and losing touch with yourself throughout the game. idk. im not sure if that's the case with the actual meaning of the song but yknow

'he can't remember tell me what's his name'-- themes of identity and memory and losing yourself. yeah.

AND THE CHORUS ITSELF IDK. 'and all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep at home'-- obviously the photograph thing but that's very literal, plus the idea of 'home' both in the song and in ISAT. also the 'all I wanted' alluding to regretting whatever caused the loop? which obviously creates the sense of his wish only being to have some stability and not. Yknow. a massive time loop. but hey ho

'the sun is laughing, it's another broken morning'-- loop. sun/star comparisons to be drawn, and the connotations of 'broken morning' in the context of being forced back to the same morning (or should I say, afternoon? [: ) repeatedly. also the connotations of 'another' as something trapping you/repeating ad infinitum AGH its so siffrin

'I see a shadow and call out to try and warn him, he didn't seem to hear just turned away'-- this reminds me of the whole like. futility of sif not being able to meaningfully help the others and just,,,,, agh,,,

'he had to sacrifice his pride, yes, throw it all away'-- further themes of a loss of an integral part of identity. I see this through the lens of siffrin's attempts to leave the loop becoming more and more desperate to the point of willing to compromise anything (of himself) for escape. fun!!

'his days are numbered, he walks round and round in circles'-- Oh You Know. repetition and never finding escape. siffrin..... aside from the whole time loop deal this line is fun to me in this interpretation of 'his days are numbered' but as the different iterations of the loop growing in frequency as opposed to the traditional use of 'days being numbered'. idk I just love flipping idioms

'there is no place he can ever call his own'-- again the themes of identity and home (or lack thereof). sif having nowhere to return to is suchhh an inciting theme of the whole game and this just completely summarises that. I also especially note the 'very' and how it finalises the whole thing; his country is gone, his memories are gone, and unless Something stops it, his family will be gone as well. I need to lie down.

'staring out the window there's nothing he can do now/all he wanted was to remain sane/he can't remember his own name'-- final verse before the last choruses and dear lord. siffrin. again with just the whole,,, memory and desperation and resignation. one very very reaching bit of analysis here is the shift in pronouns/person between the 'I can't remember tell me what's his name' and 'he can't remember his own name'; the forgetting of the name switches from an external thing that almost doesn't hold much weight to something symbolising a complete loss in self. if I'm then applying this to sif's character arc, I think this really just shows how their relationship with memory becomes more fraught and more of a source of stress throughout the game.

SO!!! I absolutely adore both in stars and time and this song, and just think it fits him so well. do you see my vision

#isat #in stars and time #isat siffrin #madness #this was so rambling but I dont even mind I love overanalysing music so much #I heart siffrin <333 #music #hehehe if anyone sees what im seeing here PLEASE talk to me about it

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cladestruction · 8 months

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PART IV of my super long aotd thoughts (and prayers) commentary/analysis extravanganza🤪

warning: spoilers. repetition of words/expressions hehe. badly written (english is not my first language lol). looong text. curse words. biased opinions because this is my blog and i get to do with it as i please.

previously: part I | part II | part III

this is the last part!!!

smacking fiesta!: they made a fire for Murderface awww my fucking HEART. i love that this movie insists on making a point that people should take responsibility but not victimize themselves. case in point: yes Nathan fucked up when he wrote the wrong song (tho again, that was actually part of the prophecy) because he decided to surrender to hatred, sadness and overall give up on his responsibilities. it’s great to see him take the blame(?) however yeah, Pickles did good at reminding him that this is no time for him to drown in self-pity and doubt himself. making a mistake is NOT equal to being an incapable person. Nathan should not doubt his own skills, quite the opposite, this is the time for him to believe in himself, trust his bandmates and push forward. also yes after season 4 and a portion of this movie, i admit it’s cool to see Pickles taking out his stress on Nathan lmao. on the other hand WOW??? why does Nathan Explosion fall from a slap, that must’ve a hell of a smack. the little “quit hitting me :(“ was cute aksjdhas. Murderface feeling better and thanking the guys is so precios he’s so baby in this scene. and i love that this is actually not the first time Skwistokface have felt weird when Pickles and Nathan fight like a married couple (throwback to Writersklok) and that’s so CUTE. he says “should we get going?” to the guitarists while Pickles does a shock therapy on Nathan or something and ugh they’re such a family. i again absolutely love that Magnus is in the notebook. it means so much to me that Nathan straight up says he’d want for Magnus to come back, somehow, so they could fix their friendship. it makes the suicide so much more tragic and it made me very sad but that makes the message much more powerful. forgiving and apologizing, taking responsability and knowing your own worth are central to the message of the movie and i really really like it. someone pointed out thath “i’m just a gear in the wheel of the clock” is the very first line of mtl and i’m happy Brendon brought it back to close this story. and for fans like me, that spent over a decade loving this show is beautiful to hear this once again while Nathan Explosion himself discovers the true meaning of it.

mommy on the wheel: ok yeah i love Pickles bla bla bla i think he’s very very cool in this scene. Pickles is my favorite, Rehabklok and Skyhunter are one of my favorite episodes/songs so seeing him drive again WHILE SOBER is so so important to me you don’t even know. and yes the line “Toki be a good boy and bring mommy his scotch” rearranged the chemicals in my brain tysm Brendon Small, i’m officially insane.

plugging-in: YES EDGAR JOMFRU SWEEP!!! i’m sooo happy he’s back and is central to this section of the movie. he’s a very important character so i’m happy we get to see him interact with Dethklok in such a cool sequence and i’m also thankful that he threw a sandwich to Crozier. it was deserved. the plug-in sequence is very cool visually AND thematically, seeing the guys fly and be at the center of such a complicated operation is cool, i’m a fan. we also get more exposition, i LOVE that only here the guys Finally remember the dethlights and start to comprehend their place in the prophecy. i’d love more of this (dethklok realizing the true reach of their powers) because it’s a very short scene, but well, you can’t have it all. when Nathan slips and falls off the wing(?) and Pickles screams “Oh no, Nathan!” yeah, Nickles wins once again. usually i’m not a fan of scenes where the characters start giving a speech in the middle of an action scene but it’s cool here. for all we know Nathan must be constantly thinking he will die at any time so it’s valid for him to want to get sincere and cheesy. also yes it’s so so important for me (and for Pickles) when Nathan finally confesses to have never had anything with Abigail. i like that he was honest and vulnerable not because of himself but because the others deserved to know. he also recognizes it wouldn’t have been right and that’s some good shit. the entire message to Abigail, “wherever you are in this world (…)” was so heartwarming. i do think Nathan and Abigail could have been a great couple (especifically after Nathan’s character development, not before) and this line is the basis of that. he realizes that showing appreciation is not limited to fucking someone and then jump to a relationship. he respects her and that will stay that way even if they never connect on a romantic level, and i adore that. on a personal note: as an aro, this scene made me cry. Nathan recognizing how much someone can mean to you and at the same time letting them go/not ending up with them is a message i can connect with to a personal level. wanting them to be happy as you are ready to part ways and focus on yourself (when Nathan says “i’ll grow stronger”) is a beautiful message. AND (yes sorry this section is practically me projectiong and making everything personal) THE LINE “because i’ll always have my relationship with music” IS ALSO SO IMPORTANT TO MEEE. i too sometimes feel like i can connect more with music than with people and to hear Nathan Explosion say that made me feel so validated, so accompanied.

gay elevator: EVERYONE say thank you Edgar for bringing back Toki’s teddy bear. say it or else. if your homie grabs your shoulder, looks into your eyes and calls you mommy, that’s a flirting i’m sorry i don’t make the rules. and i don’t care what anyone says “i’ll see you on stage” is code for “i love you so so much” case CLOSED. “this one’s for Knubbler” HELL YEAH IT IS !!! wasted opportunity to give them the armor in this scene oh well. wasted opportunity to have Toki speak in norwegian here or something since they are in Norway but ok. SOS being both a distress signal to the fans and an acronym for Song Of Salvation is GENIUS. Crozier+Edgar was not in my bingo cards but oh boy i am so happy to see it.

fuck you and your beard old man: Nathan Explosion is the man of my dreams. he’s so fearless and so smart and so so beautiful i will kill a god for him i don’t care. also yeah fuck you Salacia don’t talk to him like that. Toki a kombucha is not a meal please ajsdhkajshd. Pickles ordering for Nathan is so CUTE !!! those are soulmates right there UGHHH. and Pickles looking at him so fondly while Nathan ponders the idea of marrying his drummer right then and there??? wow THAT’S just…wow. i keep winning. when Nathan tells them “i think we’re going to die” and their reactions it was both hilarious and sad. they really are just some: dudes. they’ve faced dead before but here they are, freaking out in a jail cell together. i love them so much FUCK. missed opportunity for another band hug. dethklok in handcuffs walking in the snow is a great visual hear me out. also dethklok crucified in a spinning death-disk is such an amazing concept too. Nathan repeating The Gears to himself is so IMPORTANT TO MEEE. watch me doing the same everytime i have to face an important decision/task. the people with the masks look hella cool too. Nathan has the biggest brain ever! and he’s so so brave and strong i LOVE HIM !!! i love how he sacrificed himself mirroring the countless klokateers’ deaths throughout the show: ready to serve a bigger purpose. Pickles touching his face and turning to see the guys with a worried look is UGH. Edgar Jomfru will be missed, he was such a badass and he singlehandedly did so much for dethklok and humanity. Skwisgaar putting his hand on a distressed Toki saved my life yup yup.

Salacia is a dorito: fuckkk stop killing the fans dude. THE DETHLIGHTS!!! now that’s an epic meet and greet with your favorite band. GO INTO THE WATER SONG OF THE CENTURYYY and my favorite song to listen at the beach. the WHALE IS BACKKK!!! i’m so happy with that ending, the fact that dethklok, as powerful as they are, were NOT gods after all and were only there to help the whale is a concept i’ll never get over. so so so damn cool. we get to see how fucked up it is for the boys when the powers leave them and it’s so uncool and unglamorous i can help but love it!!! Skwisgaar my man i love him so much he really has been in Toki’s arms for ¾ of this movie he’s living the dream. and yesss that teddy bear is stronger than Salacia, we love an immortal legend. the ending sequence is cute. is short and very cheesy but i love it. it’s a love letter for the fans in universe and irl. i am so so happy. WE are the army of the doomstar. i love that when Nathan starts speaking with his heart he CAN’T STOP. he’s so sweet i love him. and CHARLES LOOKS SO GOOD IN THAT LAST SHOT I WANT TO LOOK AFTER HIM AND CURE HIS WOUNDS AND KISS HIS FOREHEAD. and yup the movie is over and i’m hyperventilating and shakingand crying.

I love this movie so much it makes me look insane. but yeah. this is the end of my super long aotd extravaganza. thank you so so much for reading to the very end. sorry this took so long. kisses on the forehead for everyone who saw this movie and enjoyed it as much as i did. take care and have a great day. bye bye!

#long text sorry!#clade's aotd thoughts and prayers #clade talks #army of the doomstar #metalocalypse #aotd spoilers #army of the doomstar spoilers

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ephemeral-eternity · 8 months

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Im having a lot of thoughts and I’m trying to turn them into something constructive instead of destructive so heres some things I’m learning regarding how to help someone who is grieving. I can’t ever speak for everyone so just make decisions based on what you know about the person who is having a difficult time but maybe this will give some ideas.

When Someone is Grieving

- Ask if they want/provide company in whatever form they would like (in person, phone call, texting, at home, going out somewhere, playing a game, watching something, hugging, etc.) Ask this more than once because grief doesn’t last one day.

- Ask if they want to talk either about the loss or as a distraction. If the first then listen and be supportive - if the latter then talk about something unrelated that the person is interested in (game show book activity etc. ask them questions about it or talk about what you know regarding it). Again ask this more than once. If they already opened up then ask if there is anything else they didn’t mention yet thats on their mind or anything they did mention that they still need to discuss or process.

- Ask if they ate anything, ask if they want food. Keep checking in to make sure they are eating and drinking. Give them food preferably something easy to eat or something they like.

- Send them something of comfort - blanket, pillow, plush - item can depend on the person. I know the big thing is food and I still say thats number one. But speaking as someone who has no support system where I live - meaning no one to talk to or get any physical comfort from like a hug - i have to rely on myself and the things around me so receiving items that are physically there from people who ARE a support system is comforting. It can be bought or something made and doesn’t have to be big - you know the person just keep them in mind when deciding.

- If you can, and the person is okay with you being at their place - go and help clean. Just doing dishes or laundry or vacuuming would be a huge help and make the persons environment better. Its so difficult to do anything when it feels like your world is broken and living in a messy environment makes it that much harder.

- If they do open up about whatever they are feeling do not respond with “i dont know what to say” if you dont know then just reassure them you are there for them or even just that you are sorry they are dealing with whatever it is and ask if they need anything. This may be a personal thing but being told “i dont know what to say” is always the worst thing for me to hear and makes me feel like a burden or like im making the person uncomfortable and they want me to stop. And I know the people who say this mean well but it makes me feel guilty regardless. And obviously anything dismissive like “it will be fine/its not that bad/ ive been through worse” is a horrible response but i assume most people with an ounce of empathy know this already.

- Ask them more than once how they are doing. And i don’t mean back to back or excessively but at some point each day or every so often check in - not everyone will reach out even if you tell them to and assure them if they need anything to ask. Take the initiative and check in - it means so much and also the person is more likely to actually talk and say what they need to say.

- Send them things that make you think of them. A song, a video, a meme, whatever it is idc as long as its genuine. Just another way to show you are there and thinking of them without directly asking or bringing up whatever it is the person is dealing with.

- Keep in mind, whatever the person is dealing with - the void of loss or grief or pain will be constantly present especially when the event is recent. The pain may subside if they are distracted while talking or spending time with you but the second that distraction ends the void is back. Things will take time - be patient with the person.

- Take care of yourself as well depending on whats happening but do not make the other person feel like a burden.

- Most importantly: Tell them you love them.

#grief #loss #personal #im posting this somewhat as a reminder to myself to look back on #this is very much me thought dumping so if anything is hard to follow thats why #again this is me personallt speaking but maybe it will help someone and obviously not everything on the list has to be followed #*personally #what you do can depend on the person and your relationship with them

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floralseokjin · 3 years

Text

⤑ made-up love song viii.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, angst, just straight up angst and drama, arguments, both seokjin and nana are frustrated, both have reasons to feel hurt, both make mistakes words; 5,122

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You looked at Nana, chest a little tight, something heavy in your stomach. When your eyes locked the corners of her mouth curled upwards. “The stepmom!” She sneered.

Your face fell, confused at first, as you attempted to make sense of her words, of her anger. You didn’t understand what was going on, but unable to stop yourself, irritation began creeping its way up your body, heat prickling your face. Confrontation made you uncomfortable, but under appropriate triggers, you often saw red. You opened your mouth, ready to say something – you didn’t quite know what – but then your gaze fell to Arin. Still clutching her mom’s hand. Her eyes were on you now, still wide and brimming with tears. She looked frightened. You came to your senses.

There was no good getting angry. Especially in front of a child. By your side, Seokjin straightened his back, letting go of your hand to step in front of you slightly. You appreciated the thought, but you didn’t really need protecting. You could look after yourself.

“Stop embarrassing yourself, Nana.”

Caught off guard for the second time in under five minutes, the tone of Seokjin’s voice threw you for a loop. The venom you heard unnerved you, a sick feeling twisting your gut. You’d heard him stressed, you’d heard him tense, you’d even heard him stern a few times on the phone, but you’d never heard his voice filled with such bite like this.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Nana spat back, her long hair flipping around as she raised her hand to point at him. “Not when you’ve been playing house with your daughter’s teacher, letting my daughter call her stepmom.”

Seokjin chuckled, the sound humourless. He shook his head, practically laughing in her face. “I don’t know where you’ve heard that from because it’s not true.” The look on Nana’s face told you she didn’t believe a word he said.

Seokjin bent down, attention on Arin. He held his hand out, wanting her to take it. “Arin, come here,” he asked, voice gentle, nothing like how he’d spoken to her mother. She let go of Nana’s hand and slowly made her way over. He immediately wrapped his arms around her middle. “Tell daddy where you got that word from.” She still looked afraid, hesitating as she opened her mouth. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad at you,” he reassured, stroking her hair.

“Mommy is.” Arin’s voice shook, one lone tear falling down her cheek. It broke your heart.

“Mommy isn’t mad at you.” Seokjin’s voice was a murmur, but as he looked up at his ex-wife he had to try his best to sound composed. “Right?”

Nana stared at him for a moment, her dark eyes piercing through him almost, but he didn’t flinch. Her gaze fell to the back of her daughter’s head, immediately softening, the regret obvious on her face. “No, darling, mommy isn’t mad at you. I’d never be mad at you.”

Her words comforted Arin, and she looked up at her father, small voice still trembling with emotion as she explained. “Suzie told me that’s what Y/N is because she’s your girlfriend. She has one too.”

Seokjin exhaled slowly. “So, you heard it from your friend?” Arin nodded, and he quickly embraced her, rubbing her back as he soothed her. “That’s okay. No need to be upset.” You heard her sniff into his shoulder, but Seokjin’s attention was already on Nana again.

“Happy now?” He shot, not giving her any time to reply. “Now get out of my house.”

“Excuse me?” Her nostrils flared.

“You heard me. Get the hell out of my house!”

“Seokjin,” you breathed, reaching for his shoulder. He needed to remember everything he was saying was being heard by his daughter. He might be mad right now but he needed to think of Arin.

As if Nana realised too, she took control. “Arin, go upstairs to your room and let me talk with your father.”

Seokjin’s eyes flashed in anger. “Don’t tell her what to do in my home.” Nana scoffed, but Seokjin’s attention was back on Arin. He cupped her face in his hands.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go and play upstairs for a little while, okay? Daddy will come and check on you soon.” She nodded slowly, her tears dried. At least that was a positive. He kissed her cheek and stood up, encouraging her to make her way out of the room and upstairs with a nod. As she passed by you, you gave her a small smile. She returned it. You thought someone should at least accompany her to her room, but you thought best not to suggest it. It wasn’t your place.

There was silence, a few moments as they waited for Arin to be safely out of earshot. Your heart drummed against your ribcage, still feeling nauseous. This wasn’t over just yet. Nana had no intentions of leaving.

“Hypocrite,” she scoffed under her breath.

“What did you say?” Glancing over at Seokjin, you saw his jaw was clenched, his gaze hard, unwavering as he stared at her.

“I called you a hypocrite.” She sounded unbothered, eyes finding yours. “You don’t know him at all, sadly. You’ll soon find out how miserable he is. How frustrating it is when he always has to right. Mr. Perfect, aren’t you, Jin?” She was trying to rile him up, get a reaction. “Could never do anything wrong.”

The way she called him Jin made you feel funny. It was so…personal. It had never crossed your mind to use the shortened version of his name. It had always been Seokjin for you.

“Nice try,” he gave a hollow laugh. “Say what you want, we don’t care.”

That much was true. Nana’s words wouldn’t make you doubt anything. Your relationship with Seokjin was solid. His relationship with Nana was nothing similar.

“So when were you planning on telling me?”

Just like that you felt your heart drop, turning to look at Seokjin on instinct. You must have understood wrong. Nana knew about you, right? He’d told her about you, surely?

“Did you just think you could pretend I didn’t exist?” Seokjin stayed silent, only infuriating Nana even more. “Answer me! How long has it been going on for?”

“It’s none of your business!” He exploded causing you to jump. You had never once heard him raise his voice. His face was red, his blood pressure soaring.

“None of my business?!” She cried, laughing in disbelief. His shouting did nothing to deter her. They were used to arguing, you guessed. “It is when my daughter is concerned.”

It was Seokjin’s turn to scoff. “Oh, so now you care? You’re a joke.”

Nana’s expression faltered. It took a moment for her to compose herself. “What is that supposed to mean?” Her tone was icy.

Seokjin didn’t give her an answer. “I don’t owe you anything, Nana. You’re nothing to me anymore.”

“I’m the mother of your daughter!” She was enraged, her eyes wide as she glowered. “You shouldn’t have kept this from me. I had no clue, Jin!” His indifference infuriated her even more. “Not one! Did you tell Arin to keep quiet?”

That had him biting, face scrunching up at her ludicrous claim. “Of course I didn’t.”

“Then why,” she demanded, “why was I so oblivious?!”

“Do I come up in conversation much? Maybe there’s your answer.” Seokjin shrugged. “When was the last time we were in the same room together?”

“Don’t! No, Jin, don’t use that as an excuse.” Nana’s voice wavered, words dotted with an emotion you hadn’t heard yet.

You felt a pang of guilt. You’d been so oblivious too. Hadn’t realised she had no clue of your existence. You understood her frustrations. It was difficult not to. Seokjin was adamant though. Ruled by his emotions. He couldn’t see his fault.

“You let our daughter stay with a stranger last weekend!”

But that hurt.

You weren’t a stranger. You had known Arin for months. You adored that little girl and she liked having you around. You weren’t just anyone. Desperately, you tried to keep it together. Logically yes, you were a stranger to Nana. She had a right to be mad. You knew that.

Although Seokjin didn’t see it that way, defending you angrily. “Y/N is not a stranger!”

“To me she is!” Nana shouted. “I didn’t have a clue. What if something had happened to Arin?”

You wanted to say something. To tell her you understood her reservations. Maybe you even wanted to stick up for yourself, but you couldn’t find the words. Guilt was eating you up.

“Just shut your mouth,” Seokjin hissed. His defensiveness made you nervous. “You don’t care. If you did you would have dropped everything and said yes when I called you.”

“I was working.” Nana ran a hand through her hair, face patched red. “You think I didn’t want to say yes? I thought you’d just cancel or ask your parents to help out.” Then her eyes fell on you, that familiar sneer on her face. “Instead, you asked her.”

Taken aback, you opened your mouth, words rushing out. “I’m really sorry you had to find out about our relationship this way, I… I thought–”

“I don’t want to hear it, stepmom.”

Your cheeks flushed, anger bubbling at her dismissal. She wasn’t even going to hear what you had to say? “I’ve never referred to myself as Arin’s stepmother.”

She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “And what if I don’t believe you?”

Before you could defend yourself Seokjin flew in, in front of you once more. You felt fresh anger, but everything was moving so fast you didn’t know how to place it. “Don’t speak to her like that. God, you’re such a condescending bitch.”

“And you’re a smug, arrogant bastard.” She shot right back immediately.

Seokjin scoffed. “Don’t try to deflect. You’ve just heard Arin say she learned that word from a friend. Do you think I’d force my own daughter to lie?”

Nana stared at him, her breathing laboured with anger. Her eyes flicked to you and then back at Seokjin quickly, a devious smirk spreading across her face. “She’s younger, Seokjin. Having a midlife crisis?”

Seokjin exhaled slowly, his voice calm as he replied, lips twitching up in amusement. “Your goading won’t work.”

Although she still tried. “What would Arin’s school think? Knowing you’re fucking your daughter’s teacher.”

You didn’t take kindly to threats, no matter the situation. Straightening your back you spoke clearly, voice raised a little. “I’m not her teacher anymore and the school already knows.”

“There’s nothing you can do, Nana,” Seokjin sighed softly, taking your hand. It didn’t feel as comforting as it usually did. “So just let me be happy. It’s the least you can do.”

That did it. Nana saw red instantly. “Oh, quit playing the victim!” She exclaimed, laughing at his seeming absurdity. You prayed Arin couldn’t hear all the commotion. The house was large enough, the walls thick enough, but who really knew. “Am I not allowed to be mad? You’ve kept this relationship,” she mocked, eyeing your laced fingers, “a secret this entire time. You’ve been playing happy families with my daughter.” There was a beat of silence. “I’m Arin’s mother.”

“Yes, but that’s all you are.”

A noise fell from Nana’s mouth. “I know, I know, you hate me. You’ve made that abundantly clear over the years.”

“I don’t hate you, Nana.” With a sigh, Seokjin let go of your hand, rubbing his temples. “That would imply I still care. I don’t. I stopped caring a long time ago.”

Nana rolled her eyes. “This again.” You on the other hand were lost.

Seokjin’s eyes locked on hers, gaze steady, just like his words that seemed to knock you for six. “I stopped caring the moment I found you in bed with another man.”

You probably couldn’t hide the shock from your face, mind reeling, but they didn’t seem to notice. You were barely concentrating on what they were saying anymore.

“Shut up.” Nana shot, provoking him further. “You never cared, Jin. Never. I did you a favour when I fucked Jaehyun. It gave you the perfect excuse to leave because you were too much of a coward to do it otherwise.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night” Seokjin scoffed quietly, but you could tell by his face he was visibly irritated. Maybe. He felt like a stranger right now. “Believe what you want.”

“I will because it’s a fact.”

Seokjin’s chest heaved with anger, breathing heavily as he failed to keep calm. “I didn’t leave sooner because I wanted Arin to be happy!” His voice broke with emotion. “I wanted to stay together for Arin’s sake.”

“And look how bitter that made you.” Nana laughed, her eyes quickly finding yours again, remembering you existed. “Are you taking notes?” She folded her arms across her chest. “This is what will happen. He’ll promise you the world and then a few years later hate your guts.”

You looked at the floor, unable to rebuff her claims even if you wanted to. Your thoughts slipped to last night, out on the deck… The way Seokjin had held you, gazed at you, the words he’d said... I want to give you the world. It was silly to let Nana’s words sting, but they did, nevertheless. Last night felt like a lifetime ago.

You felt a strong arm embrace you, wrapping around your shoulders as Seokjin held you to him. It did little to comfort you. Your head was whirring, thoughts swarming you. “Y/N is nothing like you, so don’t.” He warned, glaring across at Nana. “Don’t you dare try to compare our relationship to the one I had with you.”

Nana laughed loudly, her face contorting as she yelled. “What am I like then, Jin? Go on! Tell me! I’m so fucking curious!”

“You’re a cold, heartless cow who can’t even be bothered to be a mother to her own daughter!” His words flew out as if they’d been impatiently waiting for the opportunity.

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed in shock, spinning your head to look at him. He was letting his emotions rule his head, so much so, he didn’t even bat an eyelid at your voice, continuing his tirade.

His arm let you go as he stepped closer to his ex-wife. “Do you know why Arin probably felt so comfortable calling Y/N her stepmom?” It was a question not meant to be answered. “It’s because she’s been there for her these past few months. Where have you been, huh? She’s so used to you cancelling plans that she always expects the worse.”

You were gobsmacked, unsure what had just left his mouth as you tried to make sense of his words. He couldn’t be comparing you both. He couldn’t be using you to hurt Nana. Right?

“That’s not fair, I haven’t cancelled in weeks.” Nana’s voice was quiet, a far cry from her earlier volume, and you took a glance, noticing that her wide eyes were shining in the sunlight that streamed through the window. She seemed smaller now, less imposing.

“Bravo,” Seokjin spat, beginning to slowly clap his hands. “What do you want, a round of applause?”

“I can’t help it I’m busy with work. That’s why we agreed she’d live with you.” Nana sounded clearly upset now, Seokjin’s words striking a nerve. You couldn’t help but feel bad for her.

“And I’m not busy?!” Seokjin wasn’t done. “Your excuses don’t work on me. They never have.”

“I love my daughter. Don’t you dare try to insinuate otherwise.”

Seokjin wasn’t listening. “You came here just to create a scene. You didn’t think about Arin at all, did you? You made her give you all the details just to twist the knife in. That’s all you care about. You can’t handle the thought of me being happy because you’re so goddamn miserable!”

“Just come out and say it, Jin!” She shouted, arms out. “You think I’m a terrible mother.”

With a casual shrug of his shoulders, he replied, “I never said that, but if the shoe fits.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, a sick feeling turning your stomach. You didn’t want to be here anymore. You didn’t want to be involved in this shouting match. You didn’t want to see your boyfriend this angry, you didn’t want to hear him speak like this.

Eventually, Nana’s voice pierced through the silence. It wavered but she kept her cool, head held up high. “Well, thank you, Jin. Thank you so much for finally telling me how you feel. How very brave of you. Finally.”

You watched as she straightened her jacket and smoothed down her hair, and then she took a step forward. She was heading for the door.

“That’s it?” Seokjin scoffed, his voice hoarse. “You’re leaving without saying goodbye to your daughter?”

Nana didn’t reply, she didn’t even look at him, just carried on walking out of the room. You heard her heels against the tiles of the hallway, steps retreating.

“You really have no shame!” He called after her as you both heard the front door open, and then it clicked shut. “Fuck!”

You jumped at the sudden raise of tone, watching him kick the footrest beside the chair across the room in temper. He had his back to you, his shoulders shuddering with his heavy breathing. You swallowed, feeling your throat dry but you couldn’t say anything. This was all new to you. This side of your relationship, this side of Seokjin. Actually, this whole situation was unlike anything you’d been involved in before. You’d had your fair share of relationship drama in the past, that was a given, but this… You were in over your head. This wasn’t about you. This was a situation involving Seokjin and Nana. You didn’t know what to say or do to make it better. In all honesty, you didn’t even want to try.

“Daddy?”

The tiny voice from behind startled you both, and you whipped your head around to see Arin in the doorway. Her eyes were pulled wide, worried and confused. It made your heart hurt. A small part of you couldn’t help but feel to blame.

“Did mommy leave?” She asked, her gaze on her father, who was staring blankly ahead.

“Yes, she did,” was all he said, stunning you in the process.

“Seokjin, you can’t just say it like that!” You exclaimed, looking at him properly for the first time. Arin had walked into the room by now, hovering by your side, a hand to her mouth as she flicked her thumbnail over her teeth nervously.

Seokjin’s eyes met yours, refocusing before something flickered inside of them – realisation. He looked down at his daughter, voice softening instantly. “She had to go home, Arin. Something came up.”

You could tell by her face she didn’t quite believe him. She was a bright kid, not that you thought Seokjin was undermining her intelligence, but she knew something was wrong and you didn’t think it was fair to just gloss over the issue.

“Why don’t you watch some cartoons?” He suggested, guiding her to the sofa. “I’ll make you something to drink. What would you like?”

She gave him a small smile as he passed her the remote control. “Hot chocolate, please.”

The tiniest of smiles lifted the corners of his mouth too. “Okay, one hot chocolate coming right up.” He turned to you, a hand brushing yours for a brief second, voice low as he asked you a question. “Can you stay with her?”

Your nod was barely there, and you watched him walk out, heading for the kitchen. After a moment’s delay, you joined Arin on the sofa, attention on the television, watching the cartoon characters bounce around the screen, but you were in a world of your own. Arin’s voice’s tore you from it, her question rattling you.

“Why did she go?”

“I don’t know.” You hated yourself for lying to her but it wasn’t your place to explain. Especially not now given the circumstances. Your thoughts were captured once more. Nana had been clueless to your existence this whole time. Had you been a fool to assume otherwise?

“Did they argue?”

Your eyes fell to Arin’s, wanting to embrace her but thought better of it. You’d have to reassure her another way. With words. If you could. “It’s nothing to worry about, okay?” You smiled, the action stiff. “They’re just a bit angry at one another.”

“Because of me?”

Her question broke your heart. You shook your head hastily. “Of course not.”

She didn’t respond, turning back to the TV. She didn’t seem visibly upset, nothing like earlier, but maybe this was worse. She seemed despondent, quiet. You were reminded of when you were a kid, hearing your parents argue nonstop before their divorce. At times you used to feel at fault too.

“I’m sorry I called you my stepmom, I didn’t know it was wrong.” As she spoke she kept staring at the television, voice quiet.

“Arin, it’s okay, sweetie,” you told her, this time unable to stop yourself from wrapping an arm around her shoulders. You wanted to comfort her. She needed comforting. “You’ve done nothing wrong at all.”

You knew what children were like together. The conversation she’d had with her friend had been innocent. She’d had no clue what the weight of such a word could mean, or even do. None of this was her fault.

You held her for a while, getting consoled yourself almost as well, but time was passing and Seokjin hadn’t come back with her hot chocolate. You glanced at the clock on the wall, he’d been gone fifteen minutes. “I’m going to check on daddy,” you said, pulling away gently. “To see what he’s done with your hot chocolate.” You tried to joke around but your laugh sounded forced. Arin nodded, giving you a tiny smile as you stood up. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

You found him in the kitchen, leaning against one of the counters as he held a glass of whiskey in his hand. Arin’s drink wasn’t even half made. Irritation flooded your senses for a moment. You got that he was upset, angry, maybe even a little dazed by the situation, but he still needed to pull himself together and be there for his daughter. Drinking at two o’clock in the afternoon was unacceptable.

However when he saw you, his expression softened into worry, concern colouring his tone as he asked, “Is she okay?”

You swallowed down your frustration, but once again your mind was beginning to whir. You had so many questions, so many answers that you needed, but now wasn’t the time. He needed to make sure Arin was settled and then you both could talk.

You walked further into the room, speaking as you went. “She’s upset. She thinks she did something wrong, that’s why you and Nana argued.”

Seokjin sounded regretful when he sighed. His eyes closed, fingers tightening around the tumbler. “Do you think she heard any of it?”

In a clipped voice you replied. “I hope not.”

Hearing your tone he opened his eyes, coming to his senses almost. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, placing his drink down on the counter. He moved towards you, a hand ghosting over your back. “Are you okay?” Despite his tone of voice being one you were familiar with, his concern did little to console you. All you could do was nod your head.

“Don’t take any notice of her, okay?” He continued, his voice slowly changing again. “This is what she does. She pushes and pushes. She can’t stand–”

“Seokjin, enough,” you begged, exhausted. You could hear him becoming more and more irate.

The hand on your back froze and then dropped to his side. “Are you sticking up for her?” He more or less accused.

“What?” You looked at him, baffled. “Of course I’m not. You just need to calm down. I know you’re angry but your daughter needs you right now.”

His features smoothed out and he stepped back, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re right.” He sounded apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You watched as he walked towards the fridge, getting out a carton of milk to pour inside Arin’s mug, chocolate powder waiting. He mixed it together with a spoon and placed it in the microwave, setting the timer. As it whirled around, you spoke again. “We can talk about it later.”

There was silence as he placed the milk back inside the refrigerator. He closed the door. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

He didn’t believe you. Turning back he folded his arms across his chest, staring at you. “She’s gotten under your skin, hasn’t she? That’s what she does.”

You heard yourself sigh. You didn’t want to do this now. Not with Arin just down the hallway. Why was he being so insistent? Your mind flew through the tonne of questions you wanted to unleash his way, but one slipped from your mouth before you could stop it. Before you could even acknowledge your own words.

“Did she really cheat on you?”

Seokjin looked taken aback, whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. Maybe you should have gotten your priorities straight, but stood in front of him right now, you felt deceived. You watched as he gave you a brief nod. Your heart dropped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He lifted his shoulders, not meeting your eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Your voice raised and you willed yourself to keep it down. “It seems like it was the reason you divorced her, Seokjin.”

The microwaved beeped but you both ignored it. “It was over long before then.” He chuckled humourlessly. “She was right, I was a coward.”

A part of you wanted details but you knew right now wasn’t the time or the place. Besides, you didn’t think he’d share anyway.

“Is that why you’re mad? Because I didn’t tell you?” He sounded worried, regretful, some other emotions you couldn’t think of right now.

You sighed softly. “I’m not mad, Seokjin. I’m just… I didn’t know.”

He went to step forward, to walk towards you but stopped himself. “I’m sorry, I should have told you. Especially with–”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off quickly, not wanting to hear the words you knew he was going to say out loud. You couldn’t bear it. You’d told him about Donghae in a bid to open up – because you trusted him. Why hadn’t Seokjin told you about Nana? You couldn’t help but feel betrayed. You didn’t know if you were being fair or not.

“I should go and check on Arin,” he said suddenly, moving to the microwave to open it up. “Thank you for taking care of her. It’s more than her own mother could do, and she’s the one who caused this whole mess.”

“Don’t,” you whispered, closing your eyes. He wasn’t going to do it again. “Don’t do that. Compare us.” Seokjin looked your way, confused now. “I don’t know Nana. I don’t know what your marriage was like, not really, and I don’t know what her relationship with Arin is like. You shouldn’t have said those things to her. She was obviously upset.”

You understood that people spoke out in anger, that words just flew out, no matter how small the thought was, but it wasn’t an excuse. He was still emotional, but all you wanted him to see was the bigger picture.

“I don’t care,” he brushed off. “She needed to hear a few home truths.”

You scoffed. “And you used me to really drive them in, didn’t you?” You continued regardless of his frown. “It’s not a competition. I’m your girlfriend. I’m not even Arin’s stepmother. We haven’t talked about that yet,” – Seokjin went to speak over you but you stopped him with a hand in the air – “and I know Arin made an innocent mistake, but it obviously hurt Nana. She had no clue I existed, Seokjin. Not one!”

He did look guilty at that, dropping his gaze, but you weren’t done. “You can be mad because of how she acted but you’re also at fault…”

“I know,” he murmured. “I know that and I’m sorry.”

You weren’t the only one he should be apologising to, but by now you were too exhausted to keep this up. You couldn’t stay here, not when you were sure it would end in an argument. You didn’t want to fight with him. You needed space to think. On your own.

“I should go.” You told him, noticing his face wrinkle up in confusion.

He was in front of you immediately, clutching your hand. “Y/N, wait,” his voice was unsteady, “You don’t have to go. I’m really sorry that I made you uncomfortable.”

You appreciated his sincerity, and had no doubts that he meant his apology, but it still wasn’t enough to get you to stay. An I’m sorry wasn’t what you needed. It wasn’t as simple as that.

“Honey, please,” he begged softly. “This is me with all my baggage. I’m not perfect.”

Your brow furrowed. “I never thought you were, Seokjin.” This wasn’t about your so called flawless vision of him. He was human, just like you. Yes, seeing him mad like that had shaken you up at first but it wasn’t why you were leaving. Nor were you leaving because of the situation. Everyone had a history, or “baggage” as Seokjin chose to call it. It didn’t change how you felt about him. It was all just very overwhelming.

You put your other hand over his, silently telling him to let you go. Above all else he needed to spend time with his daughter. “Go and check on Arin. She’s waiting for her hot chocolate.” You told him softly.

He clasped your hand tighter. “Please don’t go.”

“I just need some space to think.” You admitted.

He watched you for a moment, eyes glassy – you expected yours were too – but ever the gentleman he respected your wishes and didn’t press you any further, no matter how much he wanted to plead with you to stay. Deep down he probably knew it was the right thing to do. If you stayed now no good would come from it. You could speak about everything when you were both ready. Whenever that was.

With a tight nod he slipped his hand from yours. You gave him a soft smile and turned your back to him. He had no choice but to watch you leave.

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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writingfandomfeels · 3 years

Audio

Tadashi Hamada - Drunk Karaoke

A/N: I wrote this yearssssss ago after first falling for Tadashi Hamada and being inspired by this clip of his voice actor Daniel Henney singing on YouTube for a different role. I hope you can listen to the audio and enjoy imagining Tadashi serenading you in this story <3 “No.” Tadashi breathed, staring at his phone.

“What?” You asked, approaching him.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no! This can’t be happening!!!”

“What is it?” You repeated yourself.

“I only got 65% on the last assignment! I don’t understand, I worked so hard!!!” He huffed.

You searched yourself for some way to encourage him. “There’s other assignments right? I’m sure you’ll do better on them. Maybe just check with the professor on what you were getting wrong and see if you can make up for it?”

“No, not in this class, she’s very strict. Absolutely no makeups, she’s warned us. I could still check why though so at least I’ll know… ”

“Why don’t you come out with us tonight?” Fred offered, suddenly appearing in the back of the emptying nerd lab. “Yeah, you won’t be able to hear back from that teacher tonight anyways and you got nothing else to do. Have a little fun for a night. Wasabi is DDing”

You looked to Tadashi, curious his response. Your boyfriend wasn’t much of a bar goer but he did go with his friends on occasion, usually as the designated driver though.

He sighed. “Yeah, okay, might cheer me up after all this.”

You crowded around the bar, each taking turns ordering. Except Fred. He took 3 shots and ran off to dance. Wasabi got a diet coke since he's the designated driver and Honey ordered a martini. Everyone looked surprised when Tadashi got ready to order too.

He shrugged at their expressions. "It's been a long terrible day that I really just want to forget."

"Well if you're in the mood for forgetting..." Gogo paused and ordered some complicated drink then slid it to him. "It's my own little concoction. Strongest stuff I've ever had."

Tadashi eyed it hesitantly.

"I...don't know Gogo," Honey said looking at Tadashi. "You don't have to drink anything if you don't want to." She reminded him.

He shrugged. "Why not. What have I got to lose." He said and began drinking Gogo’s concoction.

"Hey! Look! It's karaoke night!" Wasabi said turning his attention to the stage opposite the bar.

Honey gasped. "Tadashi! You should sing!!"

You looked at him shocked and impressed. "You sing?!!"

He shook his head. "Only in the shower or when I don’t notice I’m doing it. I'm not nearly drunk enough for karaoke."

"Well then! That can be arranged!" You laughed and ordered him a shot.

He chuckled. "I would have never thought you the type to get someone drunk and take advantage of them." He teased.

"What can I say," you shrugged, "I love singers”

"Oh, do you?" He asked watching, interested.

You smiled at him coyly and he quickly took the shot. Not long later, he's making dumb jokes and like a hyper little kid.

He giggled as he stared at you.

"What?" You smirk.

"There's two’a you." He giggled more. "This is so awesome. I love having two’a you. But wait which one is the real you ‘cause I don'wanna acciden’ally kiss someone who's not my girlfriend." His eyes grew big as he slurred. "Whoa, yeah, that would be bad....but two of you!!!" He exclaimed excitedly again.

You laughed with Honey and Gogo at him.

"So does that mean you're drunk enough to sing for me now?" You asked.

"Sing?! OHH YEAHHHHH I WAS GONNA SIIIING FOR YOUUU, okay okay just....just wait here...." He said and got up from the bar stool, stumbling a bit. "Just stay here..." He held his hands up, "I'll I'll be right back...okay?"

"Okay, I'll be here." You smiled.

"Okay." He said and started to leave but then ran back to kiss you, catching you off guard, and then ran back to the stage.

Gogo chuckled at your surprised look. "Yeah, he gets a bit clingy when he's drunk."

"A bit clingy?!" Honey said as if what Gogo said was a terrible exaggeration.

Gogo chuckled again. "Okay, a lot clingy! Once he wouldn't let Honey go to the bathroom alone."

"He kept saying I was his best friend and not to go but I was like ‘Tadashi I really have to pee! And what about Fred he's your best friend too?’ Thankfully that got him distracted enough to tackle Fred with hugs instead of me." Honey explained.

You laughed at the story with the girls.

"Next up! Ta-" the MC paused and looked at Tadashi who was just off stage "dude, I can't read your handwriting… what does it say?"

Tadashi just grabbed the mic from him instead.

"Heeeelloooooooooo Sanfransokyooooo! It is I, Tadashi Hamada, here to serenade you.....buuuuuuuut mostly just my girlfriend ‘cause she's a dork waffle and got me drunk so I would sing to her." He slurred. "But it's okay ‘cause she's really cute. Okay! This is a song! Called...ahh....umm....a thing, I dunno......anyways I umm OH! Oh it's starting!!! Everyone it's starting, shhhhh! Wasabi it's starting, look, shhhhh!!!"

You and the group laughed at him and Honey got out her phone to video it. Frankly, you were quite impressed with his talent.

When he had finished, the whole bar applauded like mad. "Thank you!!!" He shouted and dropped the mic. He picked up his baseball cap that had fallen while he was head banging, then jumped off stage.

You got up off your barstool to meet him. "You were amazing!!!!" You shouted over the new music playing. You reached your arms out to hug him but he pulled you into a sloppy kiss instead.

"Let's dance." He grinned and pulled you deeper into the crowd.

Moments later, you bumped into Honey again.

"IVE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU GUYS EVERYWHERE!!!" She yelled over the music. "YOU GOTTA COME SEE FRED!!!!" She dragged you off behind her and soon you come within view of a mechanical bull that Fred was totally rocking.

Having a few drinks in yourself, you decide you want to try it too after Fred. Tadashi didn’t realize this at first though, so got upset when he saw you getting on it.

"WhAdder youuu doing?!!" He scolded.

You shrugged. "Giving it a try."

"No no no no no!!" He said, running over and trying to carry you away from it. "I don't want you to get hurt!"

"But Fred didn't get hurt." You pointed out.

"But Fred is a idiot so even if he did I woulden’ be too worried. But you’re too pridddyyy t’ fall an’ break your face. Fred can break his face if he wants though." He slurred and pulled at your hand. "C'mon let’s do something else.” The drunken boy looked around the bar for something else to do.

“LOOK DARTS I LOVE DARTS DON’T YOU LOVE DARTS?!" he said excitedly and pulled the darts from the board then backed up. "I'm sooooooooo good at darts, just watch me," he said, giving you a charming crooked grin and a wink.

He threw the first dart and it hit the edge of the board. The second hit about 2 inches from the target, and the third....hit your forehead.

"Aaahhhhh!!!" You grabbed at your temple before looking down to see the bright red blood on your hands.

"OH NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" He rushed over to you. "I'm SO sorry Y/N!!!!!" He apologized, looking at the cut and hugging you. "We gotta get Baymax! Baymax!! BAYMAX!!!" he began calling and wandering a little. "OW! BAYMAX! OW! BAYMAX! ACTIVATE!!"

You held your stinging temple and ran after him, grabbing his arm with your non-bloody hand. "Hun, Baymax is at home." You pointed out.

"Oh" He paused, looking worriedly at the dripping blood. "Well let's go find him then!!!" He said, determinedly scooping you up into his arms and heading to the doors.

Once outside he wandered up and down the street almost whacking your head on a light post. "Umm..." he hiccupped, "where are we??"

You laughed. "How bout we get Wasabi to drive us instead?"

He nodded, setting you down and going back inside with you to find your friend.

***

“Aghh, my head…” Tadashi groaned the next morning.

You rolled over in bed to face him. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”

He looked at the bandaid plastered to your forehead. “Did I do that?” He moved his hand up to his head, groaning again. “Everything is so hazy.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t that bad.” You reassured.

He turned over to pick up his phone, checking the time to see how late the two of you had slept in. In doing so though he noticed an email notification.

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe it.” He breathed.

“What?” You asked curiously.

“My professor… she’s actually going to let me make up my grade!”

“That’s amazing!!!” You cheered.

He looked at the time again. “Not if I don’t make it to meet her!”

Tadashi jumped out of bed, instantly regretting the fast movement.

You cringed as you watched him place a hand to his mouth, willing himself not to vomit.

Hurriedly he changed out of his pyjamas and into the first clothes he could find.

“Good luck!” You called after him as he rushed away.

#tadashi hamada #tadashi hamada imagine #tadashi x reader #tadashi hamada x reader #tadashi imagine #big hero 6 x reader #big hero 6 imagine #big hero 6 #big hero six #bh6 x reader #bh6 imagine #my writing

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lepidopteragirl · 2 years

Text

omg hi i heard we were doing old wips today

okay okay okay this one is from my cowboy like me au that i mourn every fucking day. i wrote all of this on a burst of inspiration at like 1 am, went to bed, and then promptly forgot any other plot of the au. i feel like the dialogue's kinda clunky but this is stil genuinely one of my favorite things ive ever written

“Wanna dance?” the stranger asks, a playful, slightly shy smile gracing his lips. It’s lighthearted and joyful and risky. Quackity knows how this will turn out, he’s seen it play out a thousand times.

“Dancing is a dangerous game,” he says, lightly but guarded, hating the way his heart twists in his chest. He doesn’t have time for pretty strangers with fluffy hair and blinding smiles and the not entirely uncomfortable tightness in his lungs.

The brunette smirks. “So are a lot of things. Life isn’t worth living without the risk. I think both of us know that; otherwise, we wouldn’t be here, I think.”

“Touché,” Quackity says slowly, with the odd feeling that he’s agreeing to more than just that.

“Is that a yes?” his tall stranger asks eagerly, grinning shyly, already reaching for Quackity’s hand. The chandelier light lines up right behind his head and catches in his fluffy hair, and for a second Quackity’s mesmerized by the bright halo it leaves.

“One song,” Quackity surrenders, and the brunette’s bright eyes light up. They’re a soft hazel with flecks of blue and violet, like the aurora borealis. Sparkly and mesmerizing. Quackity forces his gaze to his and Karl’s clasped hands.

What’s the harm in just one dance? he asks himself, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut that he’s already lost.

Quackity lets the stranger take his hand and pull him out onto the floor, lifting his left palm to his partner’s shoulder. Opposite him, the stranger settles his hand in the small of Quackity’s back.

He pulls them out onto the floor abruptly, fixing his eyes on a point just to the left of his partner’s right ear.

“If we’re going to dance, I’ve got to know your name,” Quackity says, forcing a charming smile, glancing back at his partner’s face for just a second.

“Karl,” the brunette smiles, soft and low, personal, like a secret made just for the two of them.

Quackity swallows and fixates his eyes onto Karl’s eyebrows.

“What about you?” Karl asks, another one of those glittery smiles on his lips.

“Hm?”

Quackity mentally shakes himself.

Get ahold of yourself.

“Oh, you can call me Quackity.”

“Quackity? Like the sound a duck makes?” Karl laughs good naturedly, golden and intoxicating, sunlight on water, fireworks at midnight on New Year’s Eve.

Stop staring at his goddamn lips

“Why’d you ask me to dance anyway?” Quackity asks, desperately changes the subject, lifting an arm to twirl Karl in a quick circle.

A different question hangs in the air, unsaid. Quackity’s not even sure what he’s asking, really.

“You’re pretty,” Karl says simply, matter of fact. “I like talking to pretty people,”

Quackity stumbles.

He says it so innocently, so sure, no ulterior motive or anything, just that maddeningly sincere smile, as if he were just declaring that the sky is blue or that one plus one is two. As if they weren’t in a place full of games and entanglements where words like that mean too much to throw around as if they’re confetti at a child’s birthday party.

“You can’t do this” Quackity sputters coldly, frantically slamming his walls back up and doing his best to slip his charming, mysterious persona back on, to force Karl out his head for good.

It’s true, cruel as the words sound.

Quackity knows clothes well enough to know Karl’s suit is cheap, the material is flimsy beneath his palm and the stitching is messy. Karl’s here for the same reason he is. He’s new though. Doesn’t know the intricate social ropes here like Quackity does, what you can and can’t say, who to dance with and when.

He’s in control here.

He is.

Not Eret, not Schlatt, not Karl.

“No,” Karl agrees, unbothered, and before Quackity has a chance to reply, to reestablish himself in control of the situation again, the music swells, and Karl swishes him into a dip, leaving Quackity completely dependent on Karl’s hold not to tumble to the floor. Karl holds him steady though, his arms firm and sure, looking down at Quackity with an expression on his face that Quackity can’t understand for the life of him, despite making his business of being an expert at reading people. For a second that feels a bit like an eternity, somehow, Quackity can’t breathe. Nothing in the world exists but him and Karl’s arms and the rushing of his heartbeat in his ears. Then the music slows, and Karl pulls him back up, looking him thoughtfully in the eyes.

“No, I can’t”

Quackity chokes.

He hates this, hates the swooping, fluttering feeling in his gut like a warning. Hates the fuzzy warmth in his cheeks. Karl’s touch reminds him of fireflies and dizzy intoxication and winter balls and light and it fucking terrifies him.

Karl’s ridiculous smile reaches deep past all Quackity’s layers and layers of armor and smiles that don’t reach his eyes and prods something real, something soft and delicate that Quackity wants to curl his entire body around to protect, to hide from Karl’s bright laugh and soft hands.

Hide from the way his traitorous heart flutters involuntarily at Karl’s voice.

Quackity’s never been a brave man, and tonight he’s fucking petrified.

“Quackity?” Karl asks, his voice soft and concerned as they sway to the strains of music filling the hall. “You okay darlin?”

Quackity’s stomach flips.

It doesn’t mean anything, Quackity’s not that stupid. It’s just a pet name. Karl’s been flirting with him all night, hell, there aren’t many people at this ball Quackity hasn’t flirted with himself. Quackity’s been called darling, sweetie, baby a thousand times, called people that of his own accord, he knows how this works, it’s just part of the game, and Quackity’s nothing if not a master at it.

But it feels different from Karl’s lips, worried and genuine. Like he means it. Which is silly. He’s known Karl for barely an hour, maybe not even that. Karl’s just trying to get Q to trust him, to wrap him around his little finger. Make Quackity care for him.

Quackity won’t fall for it. Can’t fall for it.

“I’m fine,” he says with a forced laugh, throwing his arm out to spin Karl, perhaps a bit more violently than he intended. Karl takes it in stride though, twirling gracefully to the final notes of the song.

“Well, thank you for the dance,” Karl says as the music fades out and they step off the floor, something like regret in his voice.

Quackity’s palm lingers on Karl’s shoulder for a second, before shaking himself and stepping back, feeling like waking from a dream, his hands oddly chilled empty of Karl’s fingers,

“Same to you,” Quackity trails off, his eyes lingering on Karl’s.

“Looks like I ought to leave for the night, getting late and all.�� Karl breaks the spell after a long moment. “Maybe I’ll see you again someday?” he asks, with a hopeful little smile on his lips.

Quackity heart beats quick, somewhere between please, please let me see you again someday and a fear that rushes in his ears like falling. Like a teenager plucking petals off a daisy: he loves me, he loves me not.

#sometimes i like to pull up the doc for this and mournfully reread it like the human embodiment of that op where's the rest post #my writing

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aetherarf · 3 years

Note

can i request diluc’s s/o trying to convince him to perform this song at the windblume festival

the s/o plays the guitar

kaeya plays the drums

rosaria plays the piano

and venti plays his lyre

anon... ur mind... bless....

also its been a long time since ive used tumblr outside of posting my writings, WHEN WAS PUTTING HYPERLINKS IN ASKS A THING?

[ i tweaked some of the ideas you offered... just read :) ]

this request killed me its so long. sorry if its weird.

[[ Summary: The wind embodies change, and with it, even the Harpastum festival must change... And you're intent on bringing the change.

Word Count: 4'855 ]]

Countless pages of sheet music, of instruments awkwardly acquired through countless means, songs written...

You looked over the mass of objects. It looked messy, but... hey, they weren't being used right now!

Harpastum had always been a great time for celebration, for bringing loud joy and exuberance... And you were in charge of heralding another change in the City of the Wind.

You intended on putting together a massive performance, a band all together to play music, and to gather Mondstadt to bear witness. However, there was a few problems with this..

You may have written all the music, but you were one person. You couldn't play all the instruments, even if you had reasonable grasp of all of them, and you definitely couldn't sing the lead part--Your voice just couldn't project well enough, as well as you couldn't hit the necessary notes.

You had a few weeks before it was time for you to put everyone on the stage... was that enough time?

... You'd have to figure it out then.

Maybe you could ask Barbara for help? She had her own concerts from time to time, as Mondstadt's Idol herself, so... She might know how to help.

... Sigh. The cathedral.

A quick walk through and a few questions with the sisters told you Barbara was taking a day off--of course, you were happy for her! She never was very good at taking care of herself, but it just left you frustrated with the fact that you truly were alone to figure this out...

You couldn't sit another minute amongst countless instruments that taunted you, so you sat on a bench, looking over the papers you carried with you...

You could take one of the spots... Whatever was left over, really, minus being the singer. Actually--you had an idea of who could be the singer, so you didn't really worry too much, that'd be the easiest of this whole ordeal... it was just... everything else.

"Yahoo! Wah-ACK!"

You jerked your head up, seeing Venti gliding right above you, then a spear shot over him, shooting through his windglider, destroying it as he crashed to the ground, rolling like a dropped sack of potatoes pushed down a hill, but just managing to jump up with a sigh.

"Dangit. Oh, hi!" He trotted over to you, as though he had not been nearly maimed by a sudden weapon, "Hey! What are you looking at?" He was still panting when he bent at the waist, not minding your personal space as he looked at the music, you panicked and pulled it to your chest.

"I-... Are you okay?" You asked, and Venti just shrugged, sitting down next to you.

"I've been worse. I just made a sister very angry at me... Nothing new!"

You looked at him oddly, only to hear the sound of feet stomping on the stone ground, and to see a sister standing over you--

No, over him.

"Bard," She said, harshly, "I could imprison you beneath the Knight headquarters this instant for this, you know."

Venti stood up, "Of course, but! Ack!" With one hand, he held onto his chest, and dramatically fell back, one hand holding the back of the bench, "You've already wounded me so... was this a suffecient enough punishment...?" He asked, dramatically rasping for death,

"Blegh..." He stumbled back, and fell over the back of the bench, his legs from the knee-down hanging over the top of it.

The woman just groaned, shaking her head and grabbing one of his legs, tossing it off to the side of the bench, hearing Venti go oomf! As he completely hit the ground, and the woman took the spot he was just sitting in.

"What do you have there?" She asked, looking over.

"Well, hello to you too, Rosaria."

Rosaria looked at your face--no emotion on her own, and she just repeated herself, "What do you have there?"

You handed over the papers, and she took, holding them with much more care than Venti ever would of--He already slung his arms over the back of the bench, his chin resting atop it so he could watch whatever you and Rosaria were doing, in a... metaphorically front row seat.

"I'm planning something for Harpastum. A... concert, like Barbara's. But I can't really find the people I need." You admitted, genuinely, and she flipped through it a little. Eventually, you noticed she was looking over the piano part.

"I see. Nothing to be concerned of, for me or for you." She set it down on the bench between the both of you, only for Venti to snatch it up, snooping through it as well.

"What do you mean?" You asked, watching Venti out of the corner of your eye.

"Well, you're not sharing anything dangerous with the bard-" She reached over, and flicked him right between the eyes.

"Owwie... you're mean." Venti pouted, for all of two seconds before he went back to reading through it all- the sheet music, the plans, the lyrics, all that.

"As well as the piano part looked simple enough... Don't bother asking the other sister," Rosaria leaned back, "But anyone who knows and has limber enough hands to keep up can play it."

"I like this trumpet part," Venti mentioned, idly, "It's... bouncy."

"Well, it's supposed to be... and if you two iike it so much..."

Both of them locked their gazes right on you,

"Would you be willing to just play a little? And-and if you like it, maybe play for the concert? it's not a big thing, I promise!"

There was a silence, before Venti shouted--loudly, "Of course! Even if it's different than normal, a bard always strives to entertain!"

He then dramatically fell behind the bench again, with a loud oomf.

You idly wonder how he's not permanently as purple as a grape from all the bumps and bruises he gets.

"... Hm. What's in it for me?"

You looked at her helplessly...

"... Conner has a special batch of wine brewing for Harpastum, meant to be drunk near-frozen... for the heat, you know? I can get Diluc to get you a bottle."

Rosaria's eyes widened.

"Wait, do I get wine too?" Venti asked, peeking over the back of the bench.

You sighed, "Everyone who performs will get a bottle of this special wine, I promise!"

Venti, again, cheered loudly.

"Hm," Rosaria hummed, "I'll try out playing the part, at least. Do you have a piano? I don't really want the other sisters to yell at me for playing such..." she raised her hands, doing air quotes, "violent music in the Cathedral."

"I do, I do," you stood up, more than a little excited, "It's at my place, come on! Fair warning, it's a bit of a mess, but it's not like I'm having the concert there."

"Meh, everything's messy at some point." Venti shrugged, and Rosaria simply said nothing, letting you lead the both of them forth...

Oh, this was all coming together!

...

By the time the three of you got there, the first thing you did was move the drums--ah, still needed a drummer, oh well. You moved them out of the way to give access to the piano, adjusting the drums to make it all the easier for whoever came next to play... and, tucked away, you pulled out the trumpet, all but shoving it into Venti's hands as Rosaria sat down.

On the piano, you set down Rosaria's part, and you placed a stand before Venti, setting the sheet music down for the trumpet there..

"Okay... Rosaria?" You looked over at her, and she just tilted her head to look at you, "How about you play your part--Venti, if you blow that in my ear, I will end you."

Venti, sheepishly, tucked the trumpet behind his back, "What? Why would I do that... Ehe..."

You glared at him, "Oh, and..." You fumbled around with the clutter, finding a metronome and setting it on top of the piano, setting it to the right beat...

And without prompting, Rosaria began playing, near slamming her fingertips onto the keys of the piano--nothing like the music that was played in the Cathedral, that was always gentle, loving tickling of the ivory keys, but this was loud and harsh, banging, as though demanding you to move.

"Perfect!" You couldn't help but shout out, making Rosaria hit a wrong key, and she jerked around to glare at you.

"... Sorry," you admitted, "But, oh my goodness... It's perfect! Please, please tell me you'll play!" You were ready to get down on your knees and beg...

She examined your expression...

"... Maybe. Assuming you can get everyone else. And I expect a sample of the wine before we get on stage."

"Of course, of course, that's-that's more than acceptable!"

"Heyyy..." Venti whined, "What about me?"

"Oh, right," Venti just withered at that statement, "Don't do that, now... your turn, Venti."

He perked up without an issue, pressing the trumpet to his lips, and you flipped the sheet music to its first page--

And it was loud, each note forced out with excitement and enthusiasm, Venti all but dancing as he played, even as both his hands were on the trumpet itself, bouncing where he stood--

The music sounded just as excited as he looked.

"Perfect!"

Once again, you made one of your bandmates [ Oh, bandmates! This is really coming together! ] jump, and play a wrong note.

You couldn't be bothered to care!

"Okay, okay! That leaves... That leaves the drums and the guitar..."

You looked at both, focusing on them... "I can play both, but..."

You sighed, withering again at the realization that you were still just at the beginning.

"Not at once..."

Venti looked over the drums curiously for a moment... And smiled.

"I have an idea-"

"You're not going to play them with your feet, Venti."

"THAT WASN'T MY IDEA... Even if it's totally a great idea. But--isnt there a particular Cavalry Captain who was raised in a rich family? They do love teaching their children the musical arts..." Venti hummed.

You stared blankly for a moment, "Kae...ya? Do you actually think he knows how to play, well, anything?"

"Duh, he's a rich boy!" Venti shouted, "Sure, Diluc is the actual rich boy, but we all know he'd rather kiss a Hilichurl than go on stage!"

... You hoped not.

"Well, I suppose it's worth a shot. Do you two want to come with me?"

"Sure!"

"I've got nothing better to do."

What a merry little band you've gotten, all parading your way down to the Knight's headquarters.

It didn't take long to find the office Kaeya was in, all three of you filtering in, all but surrounding his desk, and Kaeya looked up suspiciously, setting down the pen in hand.

"I'd ask if this was an intervention about my drinking, but none of you are able to say anything about it."

Venti, "Hey!"

Rosaria, "Fair."

You just huffed.

"No, this isn't an intervention... yet," You knew Diluc had been getting worried about Kaeya's drinking as of late, but this wasn't the time nor the place, "We have a little... performance going on for the Harpastum, and a little bird told me you know how to play a few instruments."

Kaeya's gaze turned to Venti, and he quirked a brow, before looking back at you, "Maybe... What's this performance?"

You bounced a little where you stood--this meant he might actually say yes! Maybe. Hopefully. Possibly.

"W-well, I've composed some music, it's... Not so much a ballad, but closer to how Barbara sings. It's meant to have a lead singer, a guitarist, a drummer," you nodded to Rosaria, "A pianist," and then to Venti, "And someone on the trumpet."

"So... where do you want me?"

You stared hoplessly.

"... Anywhere."

Venti lightly tapped your arm, speaking in a low voice, hiding his mouth from Kaeya with one flat hand, "Don't sound so desperate."

"I am desperate." You whispered back, less secretive about it.

"Hm... So, paint me a picture," he leaned back in his seat, "What's the whole setup?"

You, exasperatedly, explained it all.

There was supposed to be a lead singer--sadly, you couldn't take the role despite all your hard work, simply because your voice didn't work with what you needed--and behind, or perhaps, beside the lead singer was the accompanying band. The whole concert wasn't supposed to be terribly long, just to whet the appetite of the audience. If it went well, this could be a great sign for your future, and honestly, you just wanted to see the joy you could bring to others.

Kaeya didn't say anything, just humming, nodding every so often, as you spoke... until, he smiled.

"Alright. I'm in. I can take the drums--I always did like percussion... But I don't exactly have a set of my own."

"Oh!" You were beaming, "I have-I have a set, I have all the instruments at my place, and... and I can play the guitar, so..."

You lead the group, all the way back to your place, giving Kaeya a few minutes to adjust to it, and you had the guitar in your hands, and you all managed to, barely, play the first few seconds of it, before it got a little cluttered...

But if you all could already do a little together, with little to no practice...

Well, you only needed time and the lead singer, and that was the easiest of your troubles... after all, how could he say no to you.

...

"No."

Diluc had his arms folded over his chest, nearly glaring at you after you proposed the idea, and you were stunned for a second, expecting him to say yes immediately, you didn't really have a back up response in mind.

"No...?" You asked again, softly.

"I don't like being in... the metaphorical or literal spotlight. You know this."

You did, but...

"Diluc, you're perfect for the spot... And it won't be long, I promise! If it goes bad, you never have to do it again... I already have the other spots fulfilled..."

Diluc's gazed softened a little, and he looked away from you.

"You can't expect me to be your saving grace all the time," he, gently, scolded, "It's not fair for you to plan me into things without my consent."

You were... stunned.

He was right, but...

"... I know." You admitted, "I know, I know, it was selfish... but I really, really need you... Can you, just... Give me one chance? And just do this for me?"

Diluc's hands twitched.

"I'll consider it. I don't think I'd be as good of a match for the spot as you'd think." He admitted, genuinely.

"It's made for you... how about this--I get you the sheet music with the lyrics, and... you don't have to see the rest of the band yet. You can just... try it out on your own? See how it feels? If you truly hate it, then you don't have to."

There was a moment of silence, and Diluc was adjusting his gloves--a clear sign that he was, truly, thinking about it.

"Fine."

From anyone else, the word would have seemed stern, but it just sounded so soft coming from him.

"I have to go see someone... Just leave it on my desk and I'll go through it."

Oh, oh, you could only hope he'd end up showing...

Hope, hope, hope...

...

And you did hope, even if you were worried. More than once you'd come home, hearing him singing his lines oh-so beautifully, but as you tried to stealthily get closer, he always heard your footsteps, no matter how careful you were and went silent, denying he had ever once sung.

Did he really hate the idea so much?

... Didn't matter. It was time to practice, and Kaeya was setting everyone off, tapping his drumsticks together to set up a beat--

"One, two, three, four!"

And everyone was playing together--of course, it wasn't perfect, but it was good. They were managing to work together, and it sounded just as good, no, better than you had hoped... Of course it would sound better with all the parts together, instead of just each all on their own.

All it needed was a little more practice, and the lead singer.

You just desperately hoped that it was all going to end up alright.

The song ended, and Kaeya was half panting--he really did go all out with the drums, Venti even opted to sitting on the ground, and as far as you could tell, despite the fast paced music and the high demand for energy, she didn't seem to have broken a sweat.

"That's... oh boy, yeah, we're going to need practice." Kaeya said, half hunched over, "I forgot how much energy this took."

"We have a few weeks, still." You tried to console him, "Everyone should be ready by then."

"Even your mystery singer?" Rosaria asked.

"Yeah, you keep saying you have one, but... it's alright if you don't. I don't think I could take the part and drum, but I can probably find someone..."

"No, I do, I do!" You insisted.

You hoped.

Only time would tell.

...

You sat there, head in your hands...

It was today, and Diluc and Kaeya left weeks ago. Venti sat beside you, his hand on your back, and Rosaria paced back and forth.

"I'm going to kill them," Rosaria declared, "I'm going to kill both of them for ditching like this, for doing this to you. To all of us."

It seemed, maybe, she was all torn up about this... in her own way--Of course, this had bonded everyone together, but...

"I just..." You sighed, and Rosaria stopped in her tracks. You couldn't help the tears that came to your eyes, "I worked so hard... and Kaeya nor Diluc didn't even tell me where he went..."

"Oh... No, no, it's nothing bad, I promise." Venti reassured, "There was a threat... I-I can't really tell you everything, or else I'm dead, but he didn't just leave because of this, I promise."

"But Kaeya, as well?" You looked at Venti's face...

"He went with Diluc."

"How do you know?" Rosaria glared at him.

"W-Well, I helped them get a ride... It was quite a dire situation, you know!"

He was lying, but you didn't care. Maybe he was just lying to make it hurt a little bit less.

"I'm sure, once one comes, the other will be here too..."

"I can't reschedule this," you sighed, "Everyone was so excited... I can't just... give up..."

Venti hugged you close, letting you rest your head on his shoulder...

You were so caught up that you didn't even hear the footsteps approaching,

"About time, assholes."

"Hey, I didn't mean to disappear like that!"

A shadow came over you, and you lifted your head, seeing Diluc standing there--

"Are you-OOMF!"

You leapt at Diluc, almost causing him to fall back onto his ass, but he was able to hold you close, keeping you both from falling.

"Diluc... I was so scared, I was so worried..." You buried your face into his coat, "Don't leave like that ever again."

For a moment, he was silent, looking around as everyone was looking at him... But, gently, he pried you off of him,

"Hey," he said, softly, "We still have a concert to put on."

You stared at him, confused, before it all hit you at once, "Oh, oh my gods, you're right! Oh, we-we need to set up, no, no we need to practice... you two are... okay to play, right?"

Kaeya looked over at Diluc curiously, "Two...?"

"I meant, are you okay to play?" You detached from Diluc entirely, trying to focus on him.

"Honestly, I'm about ready to die, but one concert before I do isn't the end of the world." He joked, "Now... Let's get practicing. I'm rusty and I don't want to fuck this up."

"... I'll be getting things ready for you." Diluc said, feeling forgotten amongst the chaos.

"Right, and..." You pressed a kiss to Diluc's cheek, "Thank you."

It only took one more moment for you to focus back on the others, bringing them all to where they'd practice...

You wondered, was Diluc really intending on just showing up last minute?

Did he ever practice?

Well...

You were about to find out.

...

Everyone was set up. The instruments, everyone was dressed in suits--even Rosaria and yourself. Rosaria insisted she did not want to wear a dress, and you decided that since everyone else was wearing a suit, you'd wear one as well, appearing uniformly.

It was unbuttoned a little further than what was considered professional, but... hey, it looked good, even if Rosaria really looked like she was about to commit an accidental act of public indecency...

Everyone was there, except...

Him.

"Do you actually have that lead singer?" Rosaria asked, addressing the elephant in the room, "He hasn't been in a single one of our rehearsals..."

"Of course I do, he's just..." You hesitated, "He's not the most social. I promise, I promise... That he'll show."

There was a silence, you couldn't help but just sit there... Wondering in terror if, despite everything, Diluc wasn't going to show. You knew he was mad about you planning him into it without his consent, or even knowledge, but... Was he really going to punish you like this?

It was a bit cruel, but you couldn't blame him. You sat down, and sighed, head in your hands. Venti trotted over, sitting beside you and setting his hand on your back.

"It'll go great, singer or no singer." He reassured, "We've worked so hard, we can do it even if you dumb singer stands you up."

"Don't call him dumb," you scolded, lightly, "We... just... I don't know. I put him in a bad spot." You admitted, genuinely, seeing how Kaeya and Rosaria walked over, "He might be mad at me."

"Well, you're human." Kaeya reassured, "You mess up. If he can't accept that you'll mess up and cause problems sometimes, maybe he's a bit too rough on you."

"Yeah... and-I did apologize, I know I did wrong, but... We talked about it, and I'm working on not doing something so spontaneous again... But he also knows this means... a lot to me."

A moment of silence, and Kaeya got down on one knee, tilting your chin up to look at him.

"Hey sweetness," he said, softly, "It's alright. We're going to make him regret not showing, alright?"

Rosaria kneeled beside him, "We'll do it together, then I'll do it personally."

You sighed... then chuckled softly, pushing yourself to your feet.

"Thank you. With or without Mister No-Show, the show will go on." You declared... sure, it wasn't what was expected, but you can make it work..!

You hoped.

"Apologies... I'm not late, am I?"

You spun on your heel to look at who just walked in, Diluc... Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

And, as expected, he dressed perfectly.

A fine suit, somewhat similar to Kaeya's, however even if he had just as many buttons undone as Kaeya did over his chest, exposing just enough to make it interesting... it felt so much more... taunting when it was on him.

He even had a little bit of make-up on, some blush on his cheeks, eyeliner, some bright red lipstick that matched his hair, that was done up in a high ponytail...

"Rosaria, you owe me a drink." Kaeya said, and the woman just sighed.

"I'll just pay you."

You looked back at them, barely able to tear your eyes off of him.

"What?" You asked, "Did... Did you guys really make a bet over who the singer was?"

Kaeya just smiled, "Of course. Who would it be, rather than our lovely Master Diluc?" He gestured to Diluc, who didn't seem pleased in the slightest.

"Albedo." Rosaria said, flatly. "But it figures he'd scare us all."

You had a hard time imagining Albedo singing in a concert, but you could argue the same about Diluc.

"Well, it doesn't matter," He shot a glance at Rosaria, "I hope you're ready," Kaeya spun the drumsticks around in his hands, walking back over to the drum set, "Because we're about to start."

"Shouldn't we get a rehearsal with our singer, though?" Venti looked at the concealing curtain--it muffled their conversation, but it wouldn't muffle them all playing.

"We don't want them to hear a rehearsal, we want the first thing they hear to be our best." You declared. "Diluc ... You're ready for this, right?"

You were terrified he was going to mess this up--after all ... He may not have practiced at all!

"Of course," he held your hand, "I know how much this means to you. Now... let's get this started.

...

Lights blaring, the instruments deafening him from all angles, Diluc just counted the beats in his head, trying to keep in tune with it all... Oh, he felt like he could die right here.

No dying.

No giving up.

The show must go on.

Microphone in hand, he began--

"It's a wonderful life-"

He held his hand out to the crowd,

"Please could you kiss my name,"

For the single, not even full beat he had, he blew a kiss to the audience, hearing shouting in turn,

"When the music's oh-ver?"

With the following words, he gesturing to the lights above,

"Turn off the lights,"

They even managed to flicker,

"It was such a sweet time, could you pray for me, my friend?"

He held his hand to his chest,

"It's starting over tiime,

Take oh-ver the night, take over the blue time-

If you heard that screaming shout in your miiind!

Take oh-ver the shine, take oh-ver the shooting star,

All I was talking 'bout was musiiiiiic!"

Even if he could barely even hear, the crowd just exploded before him, the lights too bright for him to see it--

But he wasn't done yet.

The concert continued until it all finally met its end, Diluc panting desperately, getting those gulps of sweet air back into his lungs, looking briefly back at the others, seeing how they, themselves, were full of excitement and joy, even Venti was cheering as though he was part of the audience--not a single one of the entire band was left without being completely exhausted and winded, and Diluc felt that the desire to crash right onto the ground wasn't exclusive to him.

The cheering from the audience was slowly muffled as the curtain closed, signalling the end of this exhausting ordeal.

They all left their instruments on the stage, and walked backstage. Rosaria was the first to start guzzling water, and then she sat down with a huff. Venti just sat down on the floor, leaving the others to nearly trip over him.

Diluc walked backstage last, after everyone else had gotten in, and he was breathing heavily.

"Diluc," Kaeya said, "Holy fuck, I didn't know you could sing like that."

"I didn't either," Diluc admitted, genuine. You jumped at him, hugging him tight.

"Diluc... that was insane! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You cheered, and he just huffed.

"I know this means a lot to you," he said, softly, and you backed off from the hug... something about him seemed off.

He was swaying a little from side to side, like he wasn't entirely there.

"I think," Diluc said, slowly, "I just need to lie down."

Kaeya was motionless for a second, then his eye shot open and he dove at Diluc, just barely catching him before he crashed to the ground, completely limp in Kaeya's arms,

"Diluc!" You were horrified, and Kaeya just unbent his knees from catching Diluc in an awkward position. "Kaeya... what-"

"He's fine," Kaeya said plainly, shifting to haul Diluc over his shoulder better, "Big liar, he didn't outgrow this."

He brought Diluc over to a table, and you pulled out the chair so Kaeya could have him sit, positioning him so his arms were folded over the table, and he gently set his head on his arms.

"Outgrow this?" You asked, eyeing Diluc cautiously.

"Mhm," Kaeya hummed, "I guess he never told you."

"No, I'm still... confused."

Kaeya folded his arms over his chest, "Well... When Diluc gets overwhelmed, he usually hates it, right?"

You nodded,

"Then he just curls up and tries to hide from whatever's messing with him. But--If he's having a good time? He gets overwhelmed and excited and... then he just passes out. That was the code--I think I just need to lie down, he said that as a kid right before he passed out."

"But," you argued, "I've never seen that."

Kaeya shrugged, "We thought he outgrew it, but I guess he just hasn't had a chance to get that excited in a long time."

"... Do you think," you said, worriedly, "He hated this?"

"No," Kaeya set his hand on Diluc's back, gently rubbing a small circle between his shoulderblades, "He loved it, trust me.

"... He'll be okay. Just give him some time to recover."

If you looked close enough, you could see him smiling.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc #kaeya #venti #rosaria #bark writes #fluff #fluffy bark #anonymous #request

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

your song blurb

hello!! sorry ive been so inactive and I have got a number of req that I am trying to work through - I am sorry, please be as patient as you can with me. general life shit and all hasn't been ideal. I am aware I reaaallly need to update my master list and will get round to it when I can I promise ;)

also have lots of asks abt the t + z situation but all I have to say is im so very happy for them and hope people respect their privacy ;)

harryhollandxreader // friends --> lovers blurb

summary: harry never sings in front of you, until you need it

//////////////////////////

There were some things that Harry, even after being friends for years, kept close to his chest. The one that you always tried to catch him out on was his singing. For some unknown reason, he was super self conscious of it. Every time he was nonchalantly humming along to himself, all it took was for you to make a single sound, and he’d immediately lock his mouth shut. From those fleeting moments, you had thought he didn’t even sound half bad, hence where your frustrations drew.

Because whilst you, who sounded like a cat being tortured, would scream your lungs out - Harry, who wasn’t even that bad, refused to make a fool out of himself.

It was exactly what had happened this evening when you had let yourself into Tom’s house otherwise unannounced. It’d been years since you’d been given a spare key by Harry - when they were both away, you often ‘house-sat’ for Tom; plus, you spent most evenings there too because that was where your best mate was.

Tom had messaged on the group chat to say he would be out for the evening, and Haz was around his girlfriends tonight, meaning on arrival, you’d known it’d just be you and Harry. So once you heard the quiet tune of a song, that you couldn’t quite place yet, safe to say you were on stealth mode. Sliding your shoes off and wincing as the floorboards creaked a little, you slowly crept through the house to find your frizzy-haired friend.

Sure enough, as you made your way through the kitchen, you found him stood over the hob, stirring round a wooden spoon of a saucepan - presumably filled with pasta he’d promised to have ready for you. Pouting as you leaned on the doorframe and crossed your arms, marvelling at him. He was dressed just in grey joggers and his favourite pink hoodie, arms rolled up to his elbow as the poor boy slaved away at the stove.

You stayed silent, to what you now recognised as billy joel, only unable to stifle a giggle when he reached a particularly high note. Like a rabbit caught in headlights, he jumped around and yelled, eyes fiery and pointed at you.

“OH fuck off Y/n!!”

“Billy Joel, an old school choice.” You smirked, now walking into the room to greet him properly.

“How long have you been stalking on me?”

“It’s not stalking if the stalkee gave me the key.”

“I don’t think that’s admissible in court.” He deadpanned back, pouting for a couple more seconds before finally shooting you a wide grin. The boy held his arms out, welcoming you into a proper greeting hug. Happily reciprocating, you inhaled deeply with your face pressed into the crook of his shoulder.

“How was work?” He murmured, already guessing the answer correctly.

“Shit. Exhausting. Hell, you want any more adjectives?” Harry just snorted back as you leaned away from his warmth.

“Nah rule of three is quite enough. Did you never pay attention in GCSE english?”

“Fuck off you can’t even spell GCSE.”

That was always how your friendship had been; it had always been a piss-taking battle. You simply were one of the boys - or at least that’s what you thought. Said boys though (meaning Sam, Tom, Harrison, Tuwaine and even Paddy) disagreed. You didn’t know, or didn’t believe, that Harry did NOT treat you like one of the boys. He cared about you differently, too. Tom thought it didn’t stop there, that Harry did in fact love you.

And yes, you might’ve admitted to Harrison on one very, very drunken night that you had occasionally thought of Harry as something more than your sarky friend. He had been since sworn to silence, though Haz had in fact, told Tom - who only replied with an ‘i told you so’.

Even though everyone else saw your relationship as complicated, to you and Harry it was just simple. You were just the best of friends.

And that’s how the evening went. The two of you were just messing around as usual; after eating the tomatoey pasta creation Harry had tried, you both made a right mess of the washing up - water ending up coating the floor and maybe one of the walls too (Tom would never know). And just like usual, it ended with you sprawled out on one sofa, Harry mirroring you on the adjacent one.

It was love island season, which meant every night at 9 pm there was only one place on earth either of you would be. On your respective sofas, watching the most trashy tv in the world.

Tonight though, no matter how excited you were for the next instalment of who-likes-who, your day of work caught up with you. Not that you noticed, but you’d pretty much passed out as soon as the opening scenes started. There were only two minutes of silence before Harry registered something was up - typically, he was trying to make you shut up so he could actually hear the TV. To investigate, he jumped off the sofa and leaned over the couch, the sight making him pout.

He knew work had been super stressful recently; and he also knew that your insomnia had been coming back with a vengeance. So instead of treating you like ‘one of the boys’ and throwing things until you woke up - Harry used a different approach. He draped the blanket that hung off the side of the sofa over you, biting back a slight smile as you huffed in appreciation for the soft quilt. Then Harry left you alone, knowing you could do with every little bit of rest you could get.

That was all good until it reached the third set of adverts when Harry heard you huff and move about on the sofa. And then again and again. Then again with what sounded like a bit of whimper too.

Brows furrowed, he paused the TV and slowly got up, rounding the sofa to see you somewhat matching his expression. Your face was contorted in one of distress, and you kept thrashing your head from side to side of the pillow. It didn’t take a genius to work out; this was your nightmares rearing their ugly heads.

Harry just wanted to stop this for you. Although the two of you were never particularly ‘mushy’ or vulnerable with each other - he knew just how much you were suffering recently. So without much thought into it, Harry knelt down to sit on the floor, side leaning up against the sofa as he looked towards you. Trying to hush you, he ran his hand over your forehead and over the top of your hair, though it seemed to take little effect. And then, again entirely without hesitation, Harry started to softly sing.

It’s a little bit funny

This feeling inside

I’m not one of those who can easily hide

Why Elton John was the first that came to mind was a mystery to Harry - except maybe that the lyrics ran true a little.

And you can tell everybody

This is your song

It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done

I hope you don’t mind

That I put down in the words

How wonderful life is while you’re in the world

You’d always loved old 70s music, you were the one that had properly got you into all that stuff - the beatles, billy joel, elton, even a bit of springsteen. He owed half his music taste to your Spotify playlists, even if he’d never admit it to your face.

So excuse me forgetting

But these things I do

You see I’ve forgotten, if they’re green or they’re blue

Anyway the thing is, what I really mean

Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen

With a final huff, you finally settled down, Harry swore he could see all the discomfort literally melting away from your face. It took a minute but your breath evened out, mumbling something incomprehensible as you curled up toward him on the edge of the sofa.

This wasn't the first time he’d sang to you in your sleep - and he sort of hoped it wouldn't be the last either.

feedback is really appreciated <3

harry taglist : @euphorichxlland @lovehollandy12 @pandaxnienke @msmimimerton @crossyourpeter @hallecarey1

#harry holland #harry holland x reader #harry holland imagine #harry holland fluff #tom holland #harrison osterfield

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

VALERIE - Part IV. (Harry Styles)

hello loves!! thank you so much for the feedbacks on the previous part, i love to see your thoughts at reactions so please keep them coming for the upcoming parts as well! i was informed that the posts weren’t showing up under the hashtags bc i had an extrernal link to the spotify playlist, so that won’t be available in the next parts, but you’ll always be able to find it in the masterpost if you’d like to give it a listen! those were the songs i listened to while writing the story! now, i dont want to keep you up any longer, here is part 4, one of my personal favs, and im excitedly waiting for your feedbacks on the post! have a wonderful reading!

word count: 4.5k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Valerie is curiously watching her dad work on the portable bed they’ve brought over for the night, her little hands clutching onto Rosa’s shirt as she is telling you all about the list she has made for you. It’s not a long one, but you try to focus on every word she says, making sure you won’t mess anything up.

“I put an X behind the important ones,” she explains pointing at the paper and you nod, eyes roaming down on the few X’s on the list. “The other ones are just suggestions, things I thought you should know.

“Got it,” you nod again, biting into your bottom lip. Bath time, feeding, sleep time, everything is covered in the list and you’re happy she even mentioned the smallest details. Some things might be natural for her as she’s been doing it for months, but it’s your first time completely alone with a baby. You surely don’t want to mess this up, especially because you want her to trust you and let you look after Valerie more often. They deserve a break now and then.

Steven finishes the bed and backs out a few stuffed animals along with two blankets into it, making it look cozy and familiar for Val.

“But most importantly,” Rosa starts and you look her in the eyes. “Call us anytime if you need help or want us to take her home, and I mean it.”

“Not gonna happen,” you shake your head, earning a sigh from your sister.

“Y/N, I’m serious. We are thankful for the help, but it’s not your duty, alright? Just call us anytime, really.”

Nodding your head you flash a smile at her, knowing well nothing on Earth is gonna make you call them tonight. Okay, maybe there are some cases when you would call, but those are quite unlikely to happen.

She hands Valerie over who curiously eyes you before grabbing a handful of your shirt and making herself busy with the fabric.

“It’s gonna be fine. Have a great night, you deserve it,” you smile at them. Steven straightens up and curls an arm around Rosa’s waist as they watch Val in awe, clearly a little worried they are gonna spend an entire night without her, but you can tell they also can’t wait for some alone time.

“Alright, we should get going,” Rosa sighs and stepping closer she kisses Valerie’s head and then your cheek as well. “Have fun with your aunty! We’ll be back for you in the morning, Sweetie.”

She runs her hand over her little head and Valerie smiles at her happily, completely oblivious to what’s really happening. The joys of being just a baby!

Steven says goodbye to her as well and you all head to the door.

“So, we’ll be here around eight, she is usually up by six. Do you want us to pick her up sooner?” Rosa asks standing at the front door.

“Sooner? I was about to tell you to sleep a little longer, you don’t have to come so early.”

“But we don’t want to take away your whole day, you need to rest too,” Steven explains, worry all over his face.

“Stop worrying about me, I’ll be fine. Just enjoy your night off! Come on, I’m throwing you guys out, time for the sleepover to start,” you tell them, shushing them out the door.

It takes some time to finally get them to leave, but they eventually do. Then it’s just the two of you, alone for the first time.

“Ready for your first sleepover, Val?” you ask her, standing in the hallway of your apartment. She just stares back at you, saliva drooling from her mouth but even that looks cute on her. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You braced yourself for the worst. Thought about all the possibilities how the evening would go, but you hoped they wouldn't become reality. Unfortunately, baby Valerie had different plans for the two of you.

The first hour goes by fine. You feed her, have a little play time, reading her favorite book to her, but slowly, you notice her losing interest in anything and everything. Soon enough, you see her face distort into a grimace and a few moments later she starts crying and it’s straight downhill from there.

Nothing can get her to stop. No food, no toy, absolutely nothing. You clown around, trying everything that pops into your mind that would calm her down, but it doesn’t seem like she is about to stop anytime soon.

You start to panic. Rosa told you how fussy she is because of her teeth coming, but you didn’t think it would be this bad. When she’s been crying for an entire hour straight, for a split second, you think about calling Rosa.

“No, not gonna do that,” you say, while Val is still screaming in your arms. “Valerie, what do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, I promise! Just please stop crying!” you whine desperately, but, no surprise, no answer comes from the screaming babe in your arms, just more tears, puffy eyes and red cheeks from all the crying she’s been doing.

Trying to rock her into calmness you are moving around in the apartment when you hear your phone ringing. You instantly think it’s gonna be Rosa, wanting to check in on you, but how are you gonna answer the call when Valeries is screaming from the top of her lungs? She’ll come to pick her up straight away, no doubt about that.

Rushing into the kitchen you are relieved to see that it’s just Harry calling you.

“It’s not the best of times, Styles,” you sigh as you answer the call and put him on the speaker, leaving the phone on the countertop, so you have both your hands free for Valerie.

“Hey, I was just-- what the fuck is happening?” he asks hearing the deadly cries of Val through the line. “Is that Valerie?”

“It is! I’m looking after her so Rosa and Steven can celebrate their anniversary, but she just wouldn’t stop crying! I don’t know what to do!”

You’re absolutely desperate. It’s so bad you can feel your throat closing up, nearing the edge of your patience, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, but you tell yourself only one of you can cry at a time and Val has taken that spot quite some time ago, not even giving you a moment to let loose.

“Text me your address, I’m leaving now,” he orders and you snap your head towards the phone.

“What? No, Harry--”

“Just text me the damn address, Y/N!” he barks and the line cuts off right away.

Your desperation pairs with shock now, not knowing what to think about this short, but quite eventful conversation you just had with him. It takes you a few moments to collect your thoughts, but you end up sending him your address.

Nothing changes in the twenty minutes while you are waiting to hear anything from Harry following your text to him. Valerie keeps crying with three seconds of pauses when she takes a few deep breaths only to start screaming once again. Aside from the headache she is causing you, it’s becoming pretty impressive how long she’s been doing it. You probably would have fainted by now, but it seems like Valerie is running on an endless battery.

“You are really making it hard for me to be a cool aunt, Val,” you mumble, the baby still in your arms as the tears keep rolling down her face. Your light grey shirt is now soaking wet, both from her tears and your sweat from the anxiety she is giving you, mixed with some other things you choose to ignore where they came from.

The doorbell makes you jump, but Valerie doesn’t even bat an eye at the sound, she just keeps going.

“You need to teach me how to have this much energy,” you mumble under your breath as you walk over to the door.

Opening it you find yourself staring up at Harry who is wearing a brown coat, dark jeans and a black hoodie. If you had to guess what he was doing on this weekend evening you would have said he was out with friends somewhere, picking up girls, but he surely doesn’t look like he was anywhere else than his home, the clothes are hanging messily on his frame, like he just threw them on in a rush.

His green eyes look straight at you at first before moving over to the crying child in your arms. You fully expect him to say something along the lines of “this is the kind of effect you have on others” comment, but it seems like he notices the fear and despair in your eyes and he keeps his mouth shut.

“I honestly have no idea what to do,” you choke out and the tears start flowing from your eyes as well, making Harry have to deal with now two crying human beings.

“Oh my, please don’t cry, I can’t take two crying women at once,” Harry begs as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Turning to face you he reaches for Valerie, you hand her over to him, hoping she would magically stop the crying, but she clearly couldn’t care less.

“Why, can you take one?” you ask with a bitter chuckle as you wipe your cheeks.

“Not really,” he admits, making you smile. “So what have you tried?” he asks as he starts swaying and rocking Valerie in hopes of getting her to stop, but not even Harry’s charm stands a chance with her right now. Deep down you’re happy you weren’t the reason she got so fussy and upset, would have been pretty awkward if she stopped the moment Harry took her into his arms.

“Literally everything,” you huff, shoulders falling forward. “I went over the list Rosa gave me, tried everything, but she wouldn’t stop. She’s teething, but this is… It seems like there might be something else maybe?” you tell him worried that something serious might be behind her behavior. You really don’t want to call and bother Rosa, but you are nearing the point where you’ll give up and ask for help.

“Maybe she needs to be changed?” Harry suggests holding her up, giving her butt a sniff, but you roll your eyes at him.

“You don’t think that was one of the first things I did? She is as clean as she could be. Maybe I should just call Rosa,” you sigh in defeat reaching for your phone but Harry snaps at you.

“No! Don’t, we can figure this out. Steven has been so excited to have a night off, we can’t ruin this for them. Come on, we have to have the slightest parenting skills and solve this without them.”

Nodding you agree with him, but you’ve completely run out of ideas.

“So what do you suggest?”

You can see the gears turning in Harry’s head as he is trying to come up with a plan, but it’s not like either of you have any experience with babies. The idea of calling Rosa is starting to burn in the back of your head, fear of failing this challenge taking over your thoughts.

Then Harry looks at you with a look that screams that he has an idea. You’re just about to ask what came into his mind when all of a sudden he starts to sing.

“Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water, and I think of all the things what you’re doing and in my head I paint a picture…”

You instantly recognize Amy Whinehouse’s iconic song, the one that’s also behind Valerie’s name, you know that for sure. Rosa was obsessed with the song growing up, she would sing it on the way to school, in the shower or while making dinner. You weren’t surprised she chose this name for her first daughter.

What surprises you that Harry sings like a literal angel. He hits the notes perfectly, nailing the lines like not many can and you listen to him with parted lips, eyebrows raised. This was the last thing you expected from him, but then again, it’s not the first time Harry has surprised you through the years of knowing him.

Valerie stops for a moment, her hiccups shaking through her body as her tear-filled eyes look up to Harry, and you both think this is gonna be the moment when she finally calms down, but he doesn’t even reach the chorus before she starts crying again, a defeated sigh erupting from him.

“Maybe she wants it instrumental,” you suggest and Harry gives you one of those ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ looks as you leave to run down the hallway, right into your bedroom.

“How am I supposed to make it instru-- what the hell, Y/N?!” He gives you a weirded out look when you return with a guitar in your hands. “Since when do you play the guitar?”

“Since like… eighth grade,” you tell him as you sit on the couch and holding the guitar on your lap you try to find the right accords. “I told you, you know nothing about me.”

Harry nods with a surprised but amazed look on his face as your fingers strum against the chords. It takes a few minutes but you figure it out and glancing up you give a questioning look to Harry.

“From the start?” you ask and he nods his head, continuously bouncing up and down to try to calm Val down.

You start playing the song and soon enough Harry joins you with the singing, the two of you perfectly nailing it even without any practice.

“Stop makin’ a fool out of me, why don’t you come on over, Valerie?”

Maybe it’s the guitar, maybe it’s the singing or maybe the fact that the song has her name in it, but by the time you reach the halfway point in the song Valerie’s crying slowly starts to fade. You instantly share a look with Harry, but don’t stop, fearing that she might start again if the music stops.

Her tear soaked cheeks smooth out as she is not screaming anymore and you can actually see her irises finally, her long lashes are sticking together from the salty tears and you know it’s gonna take some time for her to regain her normal state, but at least the crying has stopped.

“‘Cause since I’ve come on home, well, my body’s been a mess. And I’ve missed your ginger hair and the way you like to dress…”

You tear your eyes off Valerie for a second, letting yourself wander over Harry’s features as he sings. He slightly furrows his eyebrows focusing on the lines, so his forehead has a few creases on it. His lips form the words so clearly and elegantly, you wonder how often he sings. Is it something he only does when he is on his own or he likes to perform as well?

The only time when you heard him sing was at the bar when the two of you slayed the karaoke machine with that Avril Lavigne song. You were smashed by then, you remember that he had a nice voice but it was the last thing you paid attention to. Besides, he was kind of equally drunk as you, it was all for just fun, but now is a completely different situation.

It’s no surprise Valerie finds his voice soothing, you’d probably stop whatever you were doing if you heard him sing. There are people with a good voice and then there are the ones that not just have a good voice but also that small something, that extra magic in them that makes you melt as their voice caress your ears. Harry is definitely the second case, for a moment you forget where you are or why he is there singing. It’s just his voice and the gentle strumming of your fingers on the chords.

At the end of the song he starts repeating Valerie as the song slowly fades into nothing and you both stare at the little girl in his arms, clearly afraid she might start crying again. Unfortunately, your reservations become valid when you see the corners of her mouth curls down and you and Harry share a shocked look immediately.

“What else can you play?” he urges as Val whimpers in his arms, letting you know she does not appreciate that the singing has stopped.

“Shit, shit! Um, something from ABBA?” you propose and Harry nods quickly, not even asking which song you know, so you take it as a sign that he probably knows all of them.

The first song that comes to your mind is Andante, Andante and you don’t hesitate to start playing again, just in time. Valerie was just about to start crying again, but as soon as the melody hit her little ears she calmed down and listened to it with tired looking eyes.

“Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze…” Harry sings the words and you can’t hold a smile back as he, once again, hits the notes just perfectly without missing a beat.

You’re convinced there’s not one person on Earth who has never heard a single Abba song, most of the population knows them by heart, but somehow you couldn’t really imagine Harry to be a person who knows the lyrics to the songs as well. But he does and sings it without messing it up even just once. It’s hard to imagine a younger version of Harry singing ABBA songs when they come on the radio, but the more you think about it the more the picture paints itself in your mind.

Valerie lays her head to Harry’s chest, stuffing her thumb into her mouth as she listens to the performance. She is probably enjoying the vibrance of his voice shaking through his chest and maybe this is what brings her the peace she’s been looking for all this time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of them.

Harry glances at you, eyes so soft you melt under his gaze. However nerve wrecking it was to have Valerie scream for hours, she is still the cutest little thing ever as she rests her head on his chest, her long blinks giving it away she has definitely lost most of her energy.

You don’t dare to stop the singing and playing. When you near the end of a song you quickly think of something else and whisper it over to Harry, who then gives his feedback on it with either a nod or a shake of his head. Most of the time he knows the songs you suggest so the show continues without a stop.

Half an hour passes by when you see her eyes slowly closing. You still don’t stop though, only when Harry tries to listen to her breathing and he realizes that it was completely slowed down. She is out.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out quietly, your fingers feeling numb from the playing. You haven’t had a guitar in your hands for this long in a while, probably for years. Harry shares your relief, his throat has completely dried out and he is happy to finally breathe evenly, not just sneak a few breaths in between lines.

“And now what?” he mouths as he is still gently swaying around with the sleeping Valerie in his arms. You put the guitar aside and check if she is for real asleep. Her long lashes are spread out on her puffy cheeks, gently snoozing into Harry’s chest as if she weren’t screaming for dear life just an hour ago.

“Let’s put her down,” you whisper and nod at him to follow you.

Reaching your bedroom you only switch your bedside lamp on so the light doesn’t wake her up. Pushing the stuffed animals to the side you grab the blankets and let Harry do the critical job. Leaning down he oh so slowly starts to pull her away from his chest, careful not to move too suddenly, it all feels like in those action movies when they are trying to get through the lasers without triggering the alarm. One bad move and the screaming threatens to start again and that’s the last thing you want, after all you’ve done to calm her down.

You don’t even realize it but as you watch her little head reach the mattress you hold your breath, almost wincing upon seeing Harry’s hands slide out from under her sleeping frame. As if you wait for something to go wrong, both of you freeze for a moment, expecting her to start moving around and wake up, but she stays still.

Eyes snapping up to Harry, you exchange a look and then you both head to the door, careful not to make any noise that can possibly shake Valerie up from her dreams.

“This was more tiring than running a marathon,” he huffs, throwing himself to the couch and you do the same next to him.

“Have you ever run a marathon?”

“No,” he confidently answers and you look over at him with a puzzled look. “But I can imagine how tiring it is.”

You let out a chuckle, letting your eyes close for just a little bit. You haven’t even had the chance to realize how much this whole struggle with Val sucked the energy out of you, but now that you’re half lying on the couch it hits you all at once.

“I should get going,” you hear Harry mumble, clearly just as tired as you are, but he doesn’t move.

“Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself drift to sleep.

Neither of you moves and it doesn’t take a whole five minutes for the both of you to completely doze off.

The next time you wake up you feel an arm curled around your waist and someone is definitely pressed up against you while your back is against the back of the couch. It takes you a couple of moments and some blinking to realize it’s Harry you are all snuggled up to and the reason why you woke up is because Valerie is crying again.

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself, mind still groggy from the sleep as you push yourself up on the couch. Just moments later Harry’s eyes flush open and you’re not sure it’s because of the crying or because you moved next to him. His arm slides off you as he looks around a little confused about his surroundings.

You don’t have the chance to think about how the two of you ended up cuddling on the couch, though it lingers in the back of your mind. Basically crawling over Harry you rush into your bedroom where Valerie is lying in her bed crying. It’s a different kind of cry, not like the one you were stuck with for hours before and you know she must be hungry.

“Ah, come on, little girl. It’s alright,” you coo at her scooping her into your arms. She immediately cuddles to your chest hiccupping against it, her little hands fisting your shirt. You leave to go to the kitchen and feed her, but just as you’re about to step out of the room you bump into Harry.

You bounce back from his chest, but his hand immediately reaches for you and grabs your arm, holding you in case you might fall back.

“Sorry,” you breathe out, thoughts still foggy a little. “She’s… hungry,” you explain, but he is standing so close to you, you can feel his body’s warmth and it instantly ignites the memory of being pressed against his side on the couch just moments ago and you can’t stop yourself from inhaling a shaky breath.

“Let me help,” he croaks out and the two of you walk into the kitchen. Putting on her bib you hand her over to Harry who sits with her on his lap on a stoop as you get the baby food, warm it a little before joining the two of them and you slowly start feeding her.

“What time is it?” you ask realizing you have no idea how long you two have been asleep on the couch.

“It’s three am,” Harry answers before smiling down at Val. “Good job, Val!” he hums watching her take the spoon into her mouth.

You finish up feeding her, then give a try at burping her even though Rosa said it’s not necessary anymore. She just hums to herself so you head back to the bedroom, her eyes already threatening to close. By the time you put her back to the bed she is out again, so no private show is needed this time.

Walking out of the room you see Harry putting on his shoes and coat. For a split second you feel disappointed that he is leaving, but then your rational side puts you to your place. Of course he is leaving! Val is fine now, there’s no other reason for him to stay, right?

“Harry,” you softly say and he looks at you. “Can you please not tell Rosa and Steven that I needed help with Val?” you quietly ask, though there’s no doubt your eyes are practically begging him.

“No way I’ll ever admit to Steven that I sang ABBA to his child, so don’t worry about it,” he chuckles making you smile as well.

“Thank you. And for helping me as well. I was really close to giving it up,” you admit folding your arms on your chest as Harry stands at the front door, hand on the door knob as he is looking back at you.

“No problem. Now you owe me one,” he smirks and you can’t hold yourself back from rolling your eyes.

“Sure,” you say with an airy chuckle. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he smiles at you sweetly before opening the door and walking out.

You take his place at the door and watch him walk down the eerily quiet hallway. He turns back to you one last time waving in your way and you nod back smiling before he disappears around the corner.

Closing the door you lean your back against it, taking a deep breath. Your eyes wander over to the couch where you and Harry were sleeping not so long ago. The feeling of his arm around you is still burned into your mind and you breathe in shakily as a memory snaps into your head of the exact same thing, only years earlier.

You lied almost exactly like that in his hotel room that night. His strong arms wrapped around you as you had your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was slightly faster than the normal. Though you were still quite drunk, this feeling imprinted into your memories, because you felt so safe with him. Like nothing could ever hurt you if he was there with you.

Unfortunately, that feeling faded into nothing when you woke up in the morning quite fast. But this time, instead of disappointment and disgust, the only thing you still feel is the emptiness at the lack of his touch.

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king-finnigan · 4 years

Text

5 times Jaskier got sick and 1 time Geralt did

As part of my 500 followers celebration! Masterlist!

CW: being sick, vomiting

***

He sneezes, and Geralt looks at him with narrowed eyes. “Are you getting sick?”

Jaskier scoffs, shakes his head, and continues prodding at the fire. “No.” He sneezes again. “Okay, maybe.”

“Hmm.”

He frowns. “Ooh, now that’s a ‘hmm’ I haven’t heard before. What does it mean?”

Geralt rolls his eyes and looks away, as Jaskier sneezes again. “It means I’m not going to take care of you if you get sick.”

Jaskier sneezes again. “Yeah, I figured that much.” He rubs at his eyes, which are slightly swollen from all the sneezing. “I’ll just firmly tell my body not to get sick, then. That always works.”

“Hmm.” He recognizes that one as a slightly amused ‘hmm’, and he smiles in triumph. Over the past few years, it has become a bit of a personal challenge to make Geralt laugh or smile as much as possible, and, while low on the tier list of ‘how amused is Geralt of Rivia?’, an amused ‘hmm’ is better than nothing. At least it’s better than an unamused ‘hmm’.

Like the one he gets, now, when he suddenly dissolves into a bout of coughing. “It’s fine,” he chokes out when he finally regains his breath. “Not getting sick.”

“We’re stopping at the next inn. You’ll stay there until you get better, and I’ll get some contracts.”

He wants to whine, tell Geralt he’s fine and he’s coming along with these contracts, but when he starts coughing again, he can’t help but admit that the Witcher is right. Though, when Geralt leaves him behind at the inn the next day, he finds himself wishing Geralt would stay.

II.

He’s performing ‘Toss a Coin’ when he sneezes. The audience laughs, and he plays it off as a joke, making fun of himself, so the audience won’t, before he continues with his song. After he’s done, he graciously accepts his payment and a pint of ale, before he saunters over to the corner of the tavern, sitting down opposite Geralt.

“You sneezed,” is the first thing the Witcher says to him.

“Hello, Jaskier, what a lovely performance, Jaskier, thank you for paying for our dinner tonight, Jaskier,” he says in a mock-gruff voice. He sighs, rolls his eyes. “Really, Geralt, we talked about your conversational skills.”

“You sneezed.”

He dramatically lifts his hands. “So what? People sneeze all the time! It’s dusty in here, Witcher.”

“Your voice is rough.”

“Yes, that’s what you get for performing for three hours straight. You’re welcome, by the way.” He plonks his full coin pouch on the table, gesturing at it, eyebrows in his hairline.

“You’re snotty.”

“Well, now you’re just being downright insulting, Geralt. After all these years of me traveling by your side, and you have the audacity-“

“Jaskier. I can tell you’re getting sick.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s fine.”

Geralt looks at him, blinking slowly, almost lazily. His expression is almost bored, but Jaskier can tell from the little muscle that’s pulling at his lips, that the Witcher is getting annoyed. “Hmm.” Now that’s an ‘I don’t believe you for shit but I’m tired of arguing’-hmm, he can tell.

“Alright, maybe it’s not fine.” He points at Geralt. “But don’t you dare leave me at an inn again, like last time.”

“Why not?”

Cause it hurt my feelings, and I would love for you to take care of me when I’m sick. “I don’t want to miss out on any contracts and potential inspiration.”

“Hmm.” An ‘I can tell you’re lying’-hmm.

He simply changes the subject, for now, and hopes he doesn’t get sick in the next couple of days. He thanks all his lucky stars when he doesn’t.

III.

He tries to keep quiet as he leans one hand against the tree, the other on his stomach as he retches, emptying the contents of his stomach in the leaves. He must’ve eaten something bad, or caught a stomach bug. He decides it doesn’t really matter, though, as another wave of nausea rolls over him. He gags again, trying to not make any sound.

Of course, it doesn’t work, and he soon hears Geralt’s voice behind him. “Jaskier.”

He closes his eyes, trying to keep down the bile that rises in his throat. “I’m fine.” The clipped and strained sound of his voice begs to differ.

“Hmm.” A ‘not even Roach would believe that’-hmm. Then: “Are you done?”

He holds up a finger, chokes down one last gag, before he stands up straight, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. “I’m fine, let’s go.”

He turns around to find Geralt frowning at him, confused. “No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“No. We’re not going anywhere but back to camp.”

He sighs. “I’m fine! We can go to the next town, don’t worry about it.”

“Hmm.” He narrows his eyes. Once again a ‘hmm’ he can’t identify. Strange. “Come on, Jaskier.”

He sighs, but follows Geralt back to camp, laying down on his bedroll when the Witcher motions at it. He does have to admit, laying down makes him feel a lot better, and pretty soon he finds himself dozing off to the rhythmic sound of Geralt sharpening his blades.

When he wakes in the morning, the Witcher gives him a piece of… some sort of root. “Ginger,” the Witcher explains roughly. “Helps.”

Jaskier shrugs and eats it. It doesn’t taste entirely pleasant, but it does make him feel better, and by midday, he’s ready to set out on the road again.

IV.

“You’re limping.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “No, I’m not.”

“Hmm.” Another ‘I don’t believe you’-hmm. “What’s wrong with your leg?”

Jaskier stops walking when he no longer hears Roach’s hooves on the dusty path behind him, and he turns around. “Nothing! It’s really fine, there’s nothing going on. I appreciate you worrying, though, it’s very endearing.”

“Jaskier.”

He sighs, then shrugs. “Okay, maybe I got a cut on my leg last week that healed badly. So what? I assure you I’m perfectly fine, Witcher.” He starts stammering when Geralt dismounts Roach, stalking towards him. “A- and there is absolutely no reason for you to walk towards me, in- in a vaguely threatening manner- Geralt!”

He lets out an angry huff when the Witcher bends down, yanking the leg of his breeches up. “Hmm.” An ‘I’m very angry right now, but not at you’-hmm. “It’s infected.”

He shrugs again, pointedly looking everywhere but the reddened skin that surrounds the cut. “It’s fine. Nothing to worry about, r-really, and-“

He scrunches his face in confusion when Geralt lays a hand against his forehead. “You’ve got a fever. Get on Roach.”

“Geralt, as much as I have longed for you to say those three words for the past ten years, I assure you I’m perfectly fine.”

“Get. On. Roach.”

He holds his hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright! Melitele’s tits, Geralt, if I’d known you’d kick up such a fuss over a simple flesh wound, I would’ve been more careful.”

“Hmm. You should be.”

He sighs, rolls his eyes, as he climbs on Roach. Geralt climbs on the horse behind him, and Jaskier tries to fight the furious blush that starts spreading across his cheeks at the feeling of Geralt’s chest against his back. They set out to the nearest town, where the Witcher gets a room at the inn and drags him to the herbalist for something against the infection.

The ointment the old lady gives them works wonders, and within two days, the infection has cleared.

It’s hard to breathe. Harder to move. Opening his eyes for more than two seconds isn’t even an option, anymore, and every time he does manage to pry his eyelids apart, the world is swimming around him, making bile rise in his throat. He’s hot. No- he’s cold. But now he’s hot again, and he’s sweating, but he’s also shivering, and good gods, what did he do to deserve this?

He sighs when he feels something cold and wet and rough against his forehead, seeping away some of the heat. He doesn’t know whether the droplet that slides down the side of his head is sweat or water, but he decides it doesn’t matter when a bout of coughing wracks through his body.

He’s tired, he’s so bloody tired, but he can’t fall asleep when the temperature keeps changing from hot to cold to hot again, when his lungs keep constricting in his chest pathetically, making him cough and wheeze, desperate for any gulp of air he manages to suck in. The shivering becomes uncontrollable, unbearable, even though he’s sweating, still. He finally manages to pry open his eyes, finding the room around him blurry and dark. He looks around, desperate for anything recognizable, anything that doesn’t give him the feeling that he’s floating in a vast ocean of his own goddamn sweat. Finally, he finds something silver, to his right.

“Geralt,” he manages to croak out, desperately gasping for breath soon afterwards.

“I’m here.” He could cry at that familiar voice, and he might actually be, when he feels another droplet slide down the side of his head.

“I feel like shit.”

“Hmm.” And amused ‘hmm’. But slightly worried as well. “Go to sleep, Jaskier.”

“It hurts.” It does. Everything hurts. His muscles hurt, his lungs hurt, his head hurts, his eyes hurt. It fucking hurts.

Someone wipes his sweaty hair away from his forehead, knuckles trailing down his cheek lightly, and he figures someone else must be in the room because Geralt would never be this gentle with him. It’s already a bloody miracle he’s still here, really. “I know, Jaskier. I know. Try to sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“Will you be there? When I wake up?”

“Hmm.” That’s a ‘yes’-hmm.

He sighs, his lungs aching. “Good. Cause I don’t want to wake up at all if you’re not there.” His eyes drift closed again, and he finds himself slipping into unconsciousness.

---

When he wakes up, he finds Geralt next to the bed, stuffed into an entirely too small chair, asleep. No way the position he’s in is comfortable – his neck craned at an awkward angle, his back barely supported by the hard wood. But he’s there, just as he had promised to Jaskier.

The bard smiles, and reaches out, pushing at Geralt’s knee. The Witcher wakes, amber eyes widening when he sees Jaskier. He immediately bends forward, laying his hand against Jaskier’s forehead, eyes studying his face. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit better.” He smiles. “You’re here.”

“I told you I would be.”

He laughs softly, eyes drifting closed again, sleep pulling at him limbs. “That, you did.” He shivers, the heat of the fever no longer keeping him warm. “Geralt, I’m cold.”

“There are no more blankets.”

He pouts, reaches out, eyes still closed. “You’re warm.”

He hears a long-suffering sigh, then the creaking of the chair. Footsteps across the room. He feels the dip of the bed behind him, feels strong arms closing around him, and he sighs in content, before frowning. “Won’t you get sick?”

“Witchers don’t get sick.”

“Okay,” he whispers, before falling asleep in Geralt’s arms.

---

By the time they finally leave the inn, several days later, neither of them has mentioned what happened, and Jaskier doubts either of them will.

+ I

He doesn’t think much of it when Geralt coughs a few times. He does find it strange when it happens more and more in the next few days. He grows suspicious when a fine sheen of sweat appears on the Witcher’s forehead, even if he says he’s fine and tells Jaskier to stop fussing over him like that, he’s just hot, is all. He’s had enough when red spots start to litter Geralt’s skin.

He forces the Witcher to go to an inn, and he’s glad he did, by the time they reach it. Geralt’s hunched over Roach’s neck, sweat dripping from his brow, his skin so spotted with red he almost looks sunburnt. Jaskier barely manages to get him up the stairs, and immediately drops him on the bed, where Geralt lays very still, staring up at the wooden ceiling, breathing heavily.

Jaskier helps him out of his armour, uncovering more and more red spots as he works his way down to Geralt’s boots.

“I’m fine,” Geralt rasps to him. He doesn’t believe it for shit.

“Yeah, no you’re not, Witcher. Looks like you’ve got yourself some measles.”

Geralt scoffs, though it sounds more like two pieces of sandpaper rubbed together. “Witchers don’t get measles.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes, taking a washcloth, wetting it with some water from his waterskin. “Well, you did, so I suggest you change your views on that, Geralt.” He sits down on the side of the bed, gently laying the washcloth over Geralt’s brow, softly pressing it down. “You’re burning up,” he whispers.

“It’s fine.”

He smiles. “Go to sleep, Geralt. Get some rest.”

The Witcher sighs. “Hmm.” A ‘fine, alright, I’ll listen’-hmm. “I’m cold.”

Jaskier laughs softly, climbing over Geralt, laying down on his other side, hugging him to his chest. “Better?”

Geralt shakes his head frantically, weakly pushing at him – the fever’s clearly already taking a toll on him. “You’ll get sick,” he rasps.

“I had the measles as a kid. I’ll be fine, Witcher.”

“Hmm.” A content ‘hmm’. Then, suddenly: “Thank you, Jaskier. I love you.”

Geralt’s breathing evens out, as Jaskier pushes himself up on one elbow, looking down on his Witcher. Geralt is fast asleep, breathing deep and steady, face relaxed from its eternal frown. Jaskier smiles, laying down again, pulling his Witcher closer. “I love you too,” he whispers. Of course, Geralt doesn’t hear him, but he’ll say it again when he wakes up.

He’ll say it a million times if he has to – and he would mean it every time.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #drabble #500 followers celebration #5 + 1 things

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shadowfae · 3 years

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hiii! so a friend directed me here and i was wondering if u cld share abt how you found out you were godkin? only if youre comfy! because ive kinda had like. how do i word this. Vibes or Feels that kinda direct me towards the whole i might be a god of sorts kinda thing ? if you have resources and dont mind helping,, please direct me to them :D ~ @missing-crown

I want to start this essay off by saying flat out: wars have been fought, genocides have been committed, and empires have risen and fallen trying to answer the simple questions of “What is deification, and how do we incarnate and control it?”.

If you do not think you’re up the challenge of answering that question for yourself, even with years of study and slow training to take up the mantle of literally being the most powerful form of the Chosen One trope, then you’re probably in the wrong place. I say this as someone who is deific down to the blood and bone, as someone who has looked for other gods, and largely found very little in the way of anyone who understands anything like my experience. In this way, I am utterly alone, and I detest it, but if me penning these words gives someone else the gospel they need to explain themselves in a way I recognize as kin and kind, then I will do it.

But before I truly get into it, I will very nicely ask you to swing down to your local bookstore or library, pick up a copy of Seanan McGuire’s Middlegame, and take a walk down the improbable road with Roger and Dodger. The differences between you and I and the twins of the Doctrine of Ethos are simple and threefold: we cannot manifest, we are forbidden to use our powers the way they can use theirs, and there are (hopefully) no secret alchemist cults trying to murder us when we don’t play nice with their fucked-up science experiment.

Roger and Dodger are gods, true gods, gods I recognize in myself and in the godkin I have met who have spoken about themselves enough for me to understand that we are indeed talking about the same thing. Disappontingly, I see minor spirits far too often misunderstanding the nature of deification, or at least, understanding a version of it which is fundamentally antithetical to my experience. They may be deific; but either they suck at illustrating their point, or I am something far beyond deific, and I am again alone.

With that introduction, I need to talk about three things in order to answer your question. Two methods of deification and three definitions of ‘god’ in a hierarchy that only exists because humanity has not yet perfected their understanding of what is fundamentally and always beyond them. Two kinds of gods, honest gods, that split the difference between deific, divine, and legendary. Once you understand that, I can talk about godkin, and what it’s like to be me, and maybe by the end of it you will either recognize yourself in this, or run away screaming as most mortals will do.

The first method of deification is what I will call the incarnate gods- Roger and Dodger are good examples, so are most Legendary Pokémon, and Kaname Madoka from PMMM. They are laws of nature, concepts of creation, and calculations of cosmic proportions that also occasionally exist as people when they design to do so. They are not meant to be people, they are bad at it, I do not recommend being mortal and fucking around with them. You will simply die. I would not fuck with them outside of my own world that I created, where I get to be a form of incarnate god. You cannot overpower them: they ARE the rule, and they will change it if they need to. You can’t ruleslawyer gravity like a 2007 troll physics comic. An incarnate god of gravity will simply turn reality on its head and cause you to implode. If you are this type of god, I cannot help you. My understanding of them comes from being an Absol, and little more.

The second type are gods of domain and prowess: Zamorak (from RuneScape), Akemi Homura in both her awakened Witch and Devil forms (from PMMM), and yours truly. Quite a few of us, although not all of us, were originally mortal. Mortals amped up on so much power we are no longer bound by mortal laws. There is a difference between deification and simply stopping your clock to gain immortality. Mortal magic and deific magic are fundamentally different. Down to, I would argue, the atomic structure. Deific magic is pure in a way mortal magic could never be. To give a mortal more than a drop of deific magic heavily diffused in something safer and more understandable would be to quite literally burn them to ashes. Or rend them into a different, unspeakable form. Or turn them into living topiary. We are nothing if not unpredictable.

It’s the difference between a handful of dirt and pure neutron soup. Usually, in order to become a god like this, it requires the intervention of an incarnate god in some form. In Zamorak’s case, it was several Elder Artifacts and falling almost facefirst into halfway incarnating himself into the law of entropy. In Homura’s (at least in canon PMMM), she fucked with the laws of consequence and time to the point where she became the only expert they had on either of those and both laws decided to simply incarnate into her, and then she used that to cause problems. For me, it was having my entire magical and physical structure reorganized and rebuilt by an incarnate god of malevolent energy, and then I used what was a watered-down copy of the Devil of Devils’ glory to weave my own world into being where I was more or less the absolute arbiter of the laws of reality.

In PMMM Rebellion, when Homura fights Kyubey in that pretty lace dress of hers, that is approximately the magical prowess an awakened god of our capability will show casually. She has complete control over her domain (her labyrinth) and the reality of it, it takes no more than a glance or a thought to almost entirely reshuffle it. Her minions, who are little more than vaguely autonomous thoughts given some power of their own, may break that reality in whatever means necessary so long as it is to fulfill Homura’s current motives. Her domain falls apart when she does, and she is not separate from it; it is a consequence of her existence. Asking what came first, the god or their domain, is a simple chicken and egg question. It’s usually the domain, in our case; in the case of incarnate gods it’s a philosophical shrug and a nice headache.

You’ll notice I said awakened: that is because Zamorak is a great example of a god who isn’t entirely awakened. In canon, that is - the one I work with is awakened enough to fuck with his domain, which is what makes him quite useful to work with, although I do wonder what he’s getting out of me if not magical theory and utter adoration. Zamorak in canon is a god who ascribes himself to the philosophy of chaos and personal strife, completely unaware that he is incarnate enough not to change the law of entropy but to suggest things to it. He’s a god of chance masquerading as a god of personal improvement, and once he figures that out (and passes that knowledge onto Armadyl, who is his true light counterpart), he’s going to change the very way magic works. Guthix did everything in his power to try and become incarnate. He failed. Zamorak did it entirely inadvertently, and that’s the trick: the nature of deification is to follow the domain and influence it to your will. When laws of existence become people, they will do as people will, and people typically have ambition. Gods who are also people got that way for a reason. They always have a motive for doing so. It’s never accidental.

So, with a slightly more informed understanding of deification, or at least the versions of it that I understand, I can talk to you about me. What it’s like in the here and now, and how I knew. It took me years to get to this point, and I’ve much the way to go. I know more than I did when I was questioning; deeply more so. I don’t expect anyone questioning to be as sure as I am, and in ten years I will be far more sure of entirely different things, and if I’m lucky, this as well. But, let us begin again.

To be deific is to wake up in the middle of the night feeling like a black hole. You are vast, and you are dense, and the moment someone touches the skin of your sternum they will be sucked in like a movie's portrayal of quicksand. To be so vast on the inside, surrounded by empty air and gentle white noise like the faint pull of gravity that does not touch you. To feel so powerful as to be untethered wholly from the world, aware that you will blink and be floating alone in a space that you cannot touch and so too cannot touch you. You blink, and it is gone, and you are again in a normal body as a normal person, and you roll over and go back to sleep.

To be deific is to watch the seasonal changes and feel flashes of worn leather rope between your hands and the maddened singsong of the Wild Hunt, chariot reins in your hands and baying hounds that feel like fingers, like wings, like extensions of yourself that can be shifted around with barely a thought. To feel halfway like a black hole walking down the street, halfway caved into yourself and barely contained, incapable of truly understanding how you can be so far apart from it all without anyone noticing that something is off.

To be deific is to be a fourteen-year-old girl in one moment, unable to understand what draws her so to the wilds if not the song of sympathy that she knows she can understand if she reaches a little farther, a little farther past the barrier that prevents any mortal, psychological mind from understanding the call. To play a pixelated game and have everything rush back. To relive millennia in a single sennight, to go from chipped to broken, utterly broken, as the power comes rushing back and the slow, dawning realization like the day that there is no controlling it. That there is no controlling you.

Millennia of sins come rushing back, and you're mortal again, and you know the only way to bring a god to their knees is to kill them. And if you were spared, if you were brought down without dying, then there was a reason. That someone must have thought you worthy of fixing it. That you should now spend the next several years coming to peace with being a Devil, the cruelest of the cruel, amending fences and repenting your sins.

To be deific is to realize, quite suddenly and without ever actually having the thought, that understanding things through a Christian lens is utterly bullshit and absolutely does not apply to you. Now, your duty is not to repent, or to fix, or to find any sort of salvation. You are the monster queen, the king of the damned, the Devil of a world you made with blood and tears and sweat and magic. To retake the crown, you have to accept yourself. Acceptance does not mean dwelling, or sorrow, or refusing to take the steps forward that will carry you to the crown and halo and horn of deification.

The powers feel less overwhelming as you grow into them. You don't forget the rage. You understand your close friend's words over and over, as the lesson teaches itself. How a Devil so much less powerful and yet so much older than you once looked you in the eye, drink in hand, and gently told you that a single mortal can bring down a Devil, if they try, and believe wholeheartedly in their quest. Do not disrespect mortality. It brings nothing but death.

You wonder briefly who brought you down. You decide, as the lessons prove themselves, that you don't actually care. You're the mortal now, and mortal legends die. Mortal legends change the song of sympathy and the rules of the deific. In order to return, you too must follow the only path a mortal can take to become deific.

To be godkin is to become deific with every step. It's not to seek the divine from outside of it. It's to become it again, and reclaim it; find what was inside all along and grow yourself around it, until it can no longer be pulled from you again without scattering your ashes and stardust among the cosmos, never to return.

To be godkin is to never forget the moments of pure rage that none but powerless fourteen-year-olds can manage. To be godkin is to be an adult with their memory pressed into your skin. To be godkin is for that rage to never truly leave you.

We stand up again and stare at the emotions that are awake when we are not. We wonder what it will take to manifest again, to only twitch a thought in any direction and reshape the reality around us. It is an extension of our being, and the less aware we are of it, the less effort it takes us to remake the world. It is the nature of deification, to change the laws of reality at our whim and will.

To be godkin is simply a matter of knowing that, and forever reaching to do that once more. If only to feel whole and vast, as we always have been.

#luteia laments #otherkin #godkin #actuallydeific #actuallydivine #essays of the skyrose garden #perks of being luteia #I should post this on my website shouldn't I #I wrote most of this last night on my phone actually though

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

Text

What If...? IV // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: 1997 and 1998 are big years for Luke Patterson and his fiancée with their engagement and wedding planning. If you thought wedding planning and the wedding itself was the big things well, you’d be wrong. I mean this is the couple that almost ended with a car accident. Join the year long adventure.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, minor angst, sweet groom!Luke, and fluff

Words: 3.3k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog. There is one more part after this. 🥺😭

A/N: It’s finally here! The Patterson-Y/L/N wedding makes its appearance here and a little cameo of a future character. The next part is the last part in the miniseries as well. Enjoy.

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Masterlist

Hollywood 1997

An entire year had flown by from the day of your engagement to Luke filled with frustration, elation and greatness. Sunset Curve toured around California, leaving the Y/L/N-Patterson women to plan the wedding. Nineteen years old now in the modestly sized apartment, Luke sat beside you in the bathroom.

Two nervous teenagers a mere month away from their wedding day they cuddled each other eyes pinned at the floor. Apprehensive of the stick that held power to change everything in their lives. For the last week, you hadn’t felt very well with being tired and nausea laying you out in bed.

“It’s been long enough.” Luke murmured reaching for the test, “No matter what. I love you.”

Kissing his cheek, the two of you slumped at the negative with surprising emotion. The negative greatly disappointed you.

“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbled to his fiancée equally torn up because while the timing wasn’t perfect, he had pictured what life would be like.

A tiny baby growing in his fiancée womb, growing into bump made flutters in his belly. Of love, he already felt for your future unborn children and snuggling his kids. Introducing them to his loved ones and bonding over music. Teaching his son or daughter how to play the guitar.

He’d love to see his parents cradle a new addition to the family freshly born with the tiny knit hat Emily couldn’t resist making. Sharing a celebratory beer with his father and wisdom for the coming years. To learn the parental reason of why they had been against his career choice.

“I really wanted it to be positive.” You admitted playing with your fingers disappointed at being wrong about your body. Luke smiled as your words as he grabbed your hand in his calloused grip.

“Do you…do you want to try for a baby?” Luke trailed off flushing at how beautiful you would look growing his child. The bathroom was quiet as you thought the idea over, “With the tour just finishing the band will be writing music and recording. I could be here for the whole pregnancy and birth.”

“If we get pregnant in the next month. But we’re also getting married in a few months.” You sighed leaning to rest about his bare arm staring at the pregnancy test.

“If it happens then it happens.” Luke spoke, “If you want, we can try.”

Raising your eyes to meet Luke’s you hesitantly nodded at his words as it settled that is there ever a perfect time to get pregnant? So many people struggle with conception like your parents did with you; your mother’s labour was so complicated that you’d never have siblings.

“Okay.” Luke breathed, standing up to scoop you into his arms, “Best get on with it.”

The laughter filled the simple bedroom as Luke crawled over your body to hover with a matching smile. There was no one else in the world that could get his heart fluttering and focus on something other than music. It was terrific, and he couldn’t be mad about.

“So, Rockstar…are you gonna help?” You whispered tugging on the chain of his necklace to drag his face closer. Closing the distance, Luke’s lips brushed yours before time stopped in a collision of senses.

The callouses of his fingers trailing a fire under the flowing shirt chosen for the lunch date earlier. The warmth of his hands nowhere close enough to match the heat your body burnt with. The taste of the cherry chapstick he shamelessly stole from you, but it was the heady scent of Luke that got you.

Luke heavily breathed as he pulled back with a hazy gaze with the green almost overtaken by the black pupils. No hesitation as your lips sucked on his neck, bringing a gravelly moan from the man over you, a sound that caused your lower half to clench. Legs unable to fully close as his fingers drew symbols on your inner thigh.

Symbols that spelt out his full name. Now that was really hot.

A gasp pulled from your throat you arched as a hand came up to cup your breast in his hand; Luke could argue all he wanted, but he was boob man when it came to you.

Thoughts disappearing the ecstasy with the love of your life overtook your senses.

July 1998

The white dress was a little snugger than the previous month, but you had a good reason for it. A tiny little blob had taken up residence in your womb with a sickness that lasts all day from day one until the start of trimester two. Getting pregnant had to be easy with Luke from the number of times.

Didn’t matter where you were when Luke tugged you away. The small bathroom in the studio? Three times.

Luke’s couch? Yeah, Alex refuses to sit there now.

At this point, you had been everywhere, trying for a baby was incredibly fun, but the hormones sucked. Luke’s deft fingers creating the chords of a song? Bobby banned you from rehearsals, and you had an emergency bag of clothes as well.

“You look gorgeous.” Nancy Y/L/N told her daughter with tears glittering in her eyes as she took in the sight of her daughter. The wedding dress the bridesmaids, mother’s and Alex had hunted for; the boy had tagged along as he was like a brother. Reggie, Bobby and Luke had spent the day with Mitch and Lance.

A sob broke from the lips of Lance; his baby girl no longer needed him with her soon to be husband. There was no one in the world he trusted more with his daughter than Luke Patterson. The boy never placed the band ahead of his fiancée, and it was quickly noticed how much Luke adored the Y/L/N girl.

“Dad.” You spoke, rushing to hug the man in your arms, “Stop crying. You’ll make me cry.”

Lance was able to hold his tears until the music started and the doors opened to the venue that Luke’s parents married in. Luke stood at the altar with Bobby, Alex, and Reggie. On the opposite side stood your best friend, a childhood friend and your close cousin.

“You look beautiful,” Dad told you slowly making their way to the man cupping his hands over his face. Overtaken by your beauty and the glow, Luke thanked Lance.

“Baby, you look like an Angel,” Luke whispered, squeezing your hands tightly in his as the ceremony began.

“It’s rare that one can find their soulmate, the other half of themselves on such a large plant. Luke and Y/N orbited each other as young children and fell in love in a perfect place. For those of you who don’t know, these two met as a concert. The first step to falling in love. Music is important to this couple.” The officiant spoke, “Luke’s mother told me once that music tethered their souls together, they truly met at a concert, and every important moment had a song.”

Luke’s eyes watered meeting the brown of his mother’s love-filled eyes holding hands with her husband. Luke had no clue how much his mother came to accept, and he felt the relationship fully fix itself as it settled that his Mom had personally made the ceremony better.

“These two souls came together and became one. Luke and Y/N’s love is rare and beautiful. Today these two had decided to make their own vows.” The officiant finished, “Luke if you could start.”

“There has always music in my heart and soul since childhood. I adored listening and begging my parents for new music. My parents, one year, gave me a guitar as a gift, and it started a deep passion in my soul. I made a band with my best friends, and the band brought me to a person that would become more important. Y/N, I had had a crush on you for a long time before you first spoke to me. I had hit Reggie in the calf with my father’s car, and you made a joke about my height. It wouldn’t be until years later than I somehow convinced you to take a chance.” Luke squeezed your hands, “I love music because it brought me to you.”

“Luke. I am absolutely positive that I have loved you for more than this lifetime as my love is so vast and deep. I believe we have been destined since the dawn of time to find each other together by music. I can’t compete with your vows because you have a way with words with the songwriting you’ve done. You’ve been there through the hard times and best times holding my hand ready to catch me if I fell. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives catching each other when we need it.”

“May the rings be presented?” The officiant asked with a smile as your best friend and Alex gave the rings.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Luke whispered as he slid the band to rest against your engagement ring. You repeated the words as you slid the band on his finger as well.

“I now pronounce you as man and wife. Mr. Patterson, you may kiss your wife.” The officiant spoke, sending the room into applause.

You and Luke ran down the aisle still holding hands with the biggest smiles of your entire life to the limo that would deliver you to the reception. Luke couldn’t help himself as he pressed kisses all over. This was a glorious day for the musician, his career was going really well, and he married the most beautiful girl.

“God, I love you.” Luke murmured to the girl in the white dress. Leaning closer for another kiss, Luke froze.

Digging into his ankle was a heavy object. Your nervous eyes glittered under the dimmed lighting in the limo. Never-ending eye contact Luke lifted a moderately heavy wooden chalkboard. Written on the sign was: ‘Unofficial flower girl or ring bearer’.

“Are you serious?” Luke asked gobsmacked at the news that heightened the greatness of his wedding day. Eyes flickering to meet yours he watched as your hand unzipped a hidden pocket on your dress.

Flat on your hand was a pregnancy test similar to the one you took months back. The only difference being this one had two lines.

“AS serious as a heart attack. There will be a baby Patterson in six months.” The laugh was joyful as your lips parted.

Luke wasted absolutely no time in setting his hand on the slight bump the dress had covered, “This is why you mentioned your dress being snugger?”

“Mhm.” You replied, stroking the softness of his cheekbone in pure love with him and the life you carried, “We’re in for a wild ride Patterson.”

“Bring it on.” Luke finished kissing your cheek as the limo came to a stop in front of a large venue. The duo you ran inside where your wedding guests threw paper airplanes that Reggie had suggested.

Each airplane had a personal note from your friends and family along that would be gathered into a binder. Reggie had found out that rice wasn’t good for birds and while the reception was inside, he couldn’t do it. So, he brought the idea of paper airplanes; in class, the boys would throw airplanes at each other. It was a nod to their adolescence.

“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Patterson,” Alex announced into the microphone set on the stage with Sunset Curve’s instruments. It didn’t surprise anyone that the band would play at the wedding.

On the stage, a beautiful Hispanic woman played a soft piano ballad, if you could recall that maybe the bartender from the Orpheum. Her name was on the tip of your tongue as Luke twirled you into his arms with a big grin.

“Mrs. Patterson.” You hummed tugging him to the head table with where your wedding party would join as well. The second Luke helped you sit he knelt down to reach the box covertly placed.

Your eyebrows came together as he opened it, revealing two matching pairs of personalized vans; following the wedding theme one pair was white and another black. On the right shoe, it had ‘just married’ with the wedding date while the left shoe had a picture from your engagement pictures. Of course, Luke made them have Mr. and Mrs. above the image as well.

“How?” You breathed as Luke gently removed your heels to replace them with a thin pair of no-show socks. Over the socks went the white vans that gave your feet a break from the four-inch heels.

“We’re supposed to party now.” Luke beamed squeezing your hands in his only bending to kiss the back of each. His hazel eyes had shifted to a rich green as he stared up at yours with such a tender look, you could feel the heat building in your cheeks.

As your wedding party took their seats, Luke had already changed his shoes and pushed the box back under the table. His left hand refused to leave your right one as you both took in the magical room that had once only been a concept on paper.

“This is amazing.” You breathed leaning into Luke’s arm, sending a smile to the table near the front with both your parents, “Also thank you for the shoe surprise.”

“I am so happy they got done on time.” Luke sighed slouching in his seat, waving at the photographer you had hired.

If you can recall correctly, Luke had met him at a band photoshoot, and he was the assistant to the head photographer. You believe his name was Ray and incredibly talented and under-appreciated by his former boss.

“Did you let the photographer know we have an open bar?” You leaned over to your new husband with a flutter in your belly at his new title. The question turned the corners of Luke’s mouth for the first time that day.

“I find it unfair that we have an open bar and we can’t drink anything.” Luke snorted nudging Reggie in his side.

“Oh, I think we both know you’ll sneak some for the guys and you.” You chuckled leaning back in the chair. One hand resting on your stomach to caress the material with your thumb, unaware, “I’ll stick to the sparkling juice.”

Luke’s one eyebrow raised at the sudden change in your drink choice as in the past you wouldn’t turn down your favourite. His eyes shifted down to your hand with raised eyebrows.

“Wait…are you…?” Luke drawled out slowly in your ear taken aback when your head in a surreptitious manner. His jaw unhinged mind opened as he took in the tiny bump; in the years together, he was very acquainted with your body.

“We are. How cliché are we?” You laughed as Luke lunged to press a kiss to the supple skin lightly painted with foundation.

Your makeup was natural and straightforward to last longer for photos and make it through the dances for later. It was also Luke’s favourite look.

Dinner, the dances and speeches had sped by ending with both the bouquet toss and the garter toss. The guests mingled with the newlyweds as some danced, Emily had managed to drag Luke back on the floor.

“I’m proud of you, Luke.” Emily smiled up at her son, “And you said those dance lessons were a waste of time.”

A light pink flush took over the nineteen-year old’s full cheeks reminiscing the lessons he had taken with his mother. He had been eleven or twelve at the time when his father pulled a muscle at the worst time. The coupons nearly expiration Emily took Luke to the lessons that initially had been for date night.

“I think it helped with singing-“Luke instinctively cut himself off as he had done years before when music was a no go subject, “Sorry you don-“

“Luke, I can never explain how sorry I am about what happened. I was wrong to push you into a box you didn’t fit. Music is a part of you, and I understand now.” Emily squeezed the bicep of the guitarist, “Besides you’ll understand where we were coming from in a couple months.”

Luke’s jaw dropped at her announcement, “What.”

“Luke, I am a mother. I know the signs such as your wife turning down the wine.” Emily admitted stepping back from the boy that had so suddenly become a man before her very eyes.

No longer was he the chubby-cheeked boy running naked from his bath after splattering spaghetti sauce on himself. He had outgrown his interest in soccer and baseball with his little friends. He had matured into a man that lived up to Emily’s teachings. Luke, in her eyes, was now a man of honour, integrity, kindness and stood up for himself.

Emily and Mitch Patterson had done a fantastic job raising their son, but now they could step back. They would get to watch Luke find his way as a husband and a father.

“Hey, man,” Reggie spoke as Luke walked off the dance floor finding you among family congratulating the couple.

“Hey, Reg.” Luke beamed tugging the bassist into his arms for a tight hug. As the two boys leaned back, they looked over at their friend.

Alex discarded the pink suit jacket at the table in favour of leaning against the wall talking with the bartender. A smile blossomed on the two men’s faces as they took in that Alex was utterly relaxed in the conversation.

“They were hardcore flirting.” Reggie piped up, referencing the male bartender, “His name is Billy, I think.”

The bartender had shoulder-length dark hair pulled back in a bun with glittering brown eyes drowning in the shy blonde. He wore a dark shirt opened a few buttons with white detailing on it. A white necklace as well, but it was the lovesick smile Luke loved; Alex deserved happiness the most in Sunset Curve.

“He’s totally a skater.” Reggie spoke, “It’s a love story. He’s a skater boy, and he’d like to do ballet.”

“That would be a sick song. He was a punk, she did ballet.” Luke hummed to a melody created on the spot, “Not really our sound.”

“Someone will figure out a way to use it.” Reggie waved off, and he was right. A singer would use the exact lyric in her song ‘Sk8er Boi’ in 2002 when Sunset Curve would bump into her.

Slowly the boys of Sunset Curve found their way to the stage to perform a few songs directed towards you. At your urging, you had demanded they give a live performance of Unsaid Emily for your now mother-in-law. As they sang, you wrapped an arm, Emily, as she cried.

“This is his best work.” You mumbled to the older woman cupping her wet cheek leaning into the touch of her husband’s touch.

As soon as the song was over, Emily yanked her son into her arms both parties of the hug emotionally moved. It seemed the performance had shifted something in their relationship for the better. Luke didn’t need to explain as he pulled you into his side once more.

“Alex isn’t the only one that found someone.” You whispered, finding Alex and the bartender on break dancing on the edge of the dance floor. At your husband’s puzzlement, your finger pointed in the direction of the stage.

In a conversation photographer, Ray captivated the lead singer of the band you had hired when Sunset Curve didn’t play. Even Reggie seemed to have the attention of your twin showgirl cousins from Las Vegas.

“Love attracts love.” Luke simply spoke, wrapping his built arms around his wife, thinking back on the changes that had happened.

Luke hitting Reggie’s leg with the car at thirteen, finding each other at the concert a few years later, the accident that threatened the relationship. Proposing twice and finally marrying over a year later on the same day you confessed the pregnancy. So much had happened in such a fraction of time.

“I love you.” Luke murmured at the shell of your ear watching his friends have the time of their lives on a beautiful day in the summer of 1998.

Above are the example of the shoes that Luke got.

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

Text

* ⚠️ Warnings: A lot of angst. Mentions of sex. A little fluff. People drinking alcohol. ⚠️ This one shot was never meant to be a series. All of your love and appreciation spurred me in to write more. Hope you like this chapter. I cried while I was writing it. Part 5 is the finale.

Plain Gold Ring IV:

You Don’t Know What Love Is

“How could you know how lips hurt

'Till you've kissed and had to pay the cost

Baby, 'till you've flipped your heart and you have lost

You don't know what love is” Nina Simone

———————————————————————

Being on the board of your firm’s charity gala was a huge deal. On top of your normal duties you were in charge of the silent auction. The final auction items had all arrived and you had been busy categorizing everything and preparing for the night that you barely have time to focus on the Andy and Lori situation.

Not that it wasn’t grating on your last nerve. You were so short with everyone at work that it was becoming a problem. Stan had to have a talk with you. You just had to focus and get through this event.

Andy helped as much as he could. He was supportive when you were frustrated and quickly learned when to back off. Sometimes you were up until the wee hours he would literally drag you to bed. He knew how to keep your mind off of work for a while.

You were so busy that you hadn’t even purchased a dress. You and Liz went shopping after work. She was the only person to know about you and Andy.

“What do you think of this one? Think Andy will like it?” You wore a black long sleeved gown with a v that went down to right above your belly button and a slit up to your mid thigh.

“I mean, I’d fuck you.” she deadpanned. This was the dress. You would be comfortable in it all night. You also looked like a powerful bitch who would slit your throat.

———————————————————————

You had to be at the site earlier than the guests so you did your hair and most of your makeup at home. Andy had not seen your dress on purpose. You wanted him to see you when he walked in with Lori. Your petty brain was on overdrive.

“Well you look great” Andy said pointing to your sweats.

“Shush. I’m not putting on my dress and heels until the last second. I pressed your shirt it’s hanging in your closet. I also picked up your tux from the cleaners.”

He slid his arms around you and looked at you in the mirror. “Why are you so good to me?” His hands roamed your body and made contact with your bare skin under your tshirt.

“I am gonna be late.” You swatted his hands away.

“You have four hours. Didn’t you hire party planners?”

“Yes. I still need to get my nails done and set up the auction. You can have your way with me later.”

“But I want to now” he whined. “Please. I’ll be really quick.”

You giggled , “Sounds really fun for me. You know I would never ever miss an opportunity to cum all over your cock…” your face was so close to his your lips were nearly touching. Your hands were on his chest. His were on your hips pulling you closer. “But I have to go. Bye, baby.”

“Tease! You’ll pay for that.” he called after you.

You winked at him as you headed out of the door, “I certainly hope so.”

All Andy could do was laugh. He wished he could spend this evening whisking you around the dance floor. He couldn’t wait to see how beautiful you would look tonight.

In two days you would be on your way to Chicago. The movers were already on the way with your furniture. Your suitcase was in the process of being packed. He hated it. He was taking a long weekend to help you get settled. By Wednesday morning you would have to say goodbye. His heart broke a little every time he thought about it. Every single day he wanted to say he loved you. He was reluctant to ruin what you had knowing there was no way around the inevitable.

———————————————————————

Everything was set. The only thing left was for you to get dressed. You re-sprayed your hair and put on your jewelry. You spritzed Chanel over your wrists neck and cleavage. Last thing was to coat your lips in a matte oxblood to match your nails. You looked sleek and downright terrifying. Just as you planned.

“They just walked in.” Liz whispered from the doorway.

“How does she look?”

“Pretty and appropriate.”

“How do I look?”

“Like a bad bitch. Let’s go.”

You walked out with your shoulders back and your head high. You made sure the gown swished enough to expose your legs and the impossibly high heels you wore. Andy saw you from across the room and stopped dead in his tracks. You looked like you were walking in slow motion. He almost dropped his drink.

You made a b line for Stan and his wife Elaine who were standing directly behind the other couple. He smelled your perfume wafting off of you when you walked by. He almost lost it right there.

“Y/N! What a knockout. Elaine, isn’t she gorgeous?” You kissed his cheek with the side of your mouth careful not to smear your lipstick.

“Christ, Stan. Keep it in your pants. You look beautiful, honey.”

“Thank you, Elaine. So good to see you. Lovely as always.”

“Thank you, dear. Now how is it possible you are here without a date? Stan, you work the poor thing so much she can’t even find a man. That’s why she’s leaving you.”

“And for many other reasons” you joked. You were very much aware that Andy was behind you. “Elaine have you met Andy and Lori Barber?”

You took Lori’s hand and ushered them over. “No, I haven’t. So nice to finally meet you.”

“You get to know each other. I’m going to grab a drink. Can I get anyone anything?” Such a good hostess.

“I’d love a scotch. Elaine wine?” She nodded.

“Andy?”

“You won’t be able to carry all of those drinks. Let me come with you.” Andy patted Lori on the arm. “I’ll be right back.” When you were far enough away he took a long look at you. “How long til I get to rip that dress off of you?”

Your cheeks heated, “You won’t be ripping anything. This dress cost a fortune. It’s far too pretty to ruin especially with panty lines.”

“Fuck. I’m gonna ruin that pussy.”

“Promises promises, Mr. Barber.” He groaned and adjusted his pants.

“Such a tease.”

You delivered the drinks and excused yourself. For the rest of the night Andy only caught glimpses of you. He tried not to make it obvious but Lori could see. Once upon a time he looked at her like that. Except the way he looked at you was a look of complete adoration.

You tried avoiding the Barbers all night. The whole time Andy schmoozed and did his Andy thing, his arm was around her waist. She kept her hand on his chest. They were always finding little ways to touch each other. When he kissed her temple you nearly broke the clipboard you were holding.

Stan stood next to you draining his fourth drink, “You ok there, champ? Sweet couple aren’t they?”

“Yeah. They’re adorable.” You slammed the rest of your Old Fashion.

“Reminds me of me and Katherine . Remember Katherine?”

“Was she your second or third wife? I don’t remember.” Your words were dripping with sarcasm.

“Second. Every time we had one of these things Katherine was on my arm. She was great at this shit. She’d chat it up with the partner’s wives earning me brownie points while I fucked Elaine’s brains out in the John. Know why I married Elaine? She was the best goddamn litigator I’d ever seen. Gets my dick hard every time I think about it. She lit a fire in me that couldn’t be stoked. Kind of like you do for Andy.”

You blanched, “What do you mean?”

“Oh save it. I know you’re fucking. The whole office does. I see how he looks at you. But you can’t see how you look at him. Don’t let the act fool you. He’s stupid for you. Let me keep him for a couple of months before you move him to Chicago ok? He can make us some serious money.” He patted you on the ass and went back to Elaine. She was waiting for him with a big smile that he drunkenly devoured.

———————————————————————

The band started playing. When a slow song came on Lori took Andy’s hand. “Dance with me?”

For possibly the last time he held her. She closed her eyes, rested her head on his shoulder and let him lead her around the dance floor. He wasn’t reciprocating with the same tenderness. His eyes were held on you.

You watched him place his hand on the small of her back. The way he held her hand was a practiced action that he had perfected over sixteen years. When he let himself get lost for just a moment he was overcome with grief for himself and Lori. He pressed a kiss to her lips. Her heart fluttered and she kissed him back. You rushed out of the room when you saw them.

Lori felt her husband’s body stiffen. His hold on her loosened. It felt like he was forcing his body to stay with her. She understood why his mood shifted when she saw you leaving. She looked up at him. His eyebrows were knitted together with worry.

“How long have you been sleeping with her?” she asked quietly.

“A month. Maybe longer.” He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t lie.

“So basically since you left.”

“My second day there. Lori, I’m so sorry. It just happened. I wasn’t looking for anything.”

“No, but you were open to something happening. Does everyone here know? Of course they do. I’m so humiliated. I think I’d like to go home.”

“I’ll get the car.”

“No. I can get myself home. This night is too important for you to leave early.”

“Lori…”

“I don’t want to be around you right now, Andy. I can’t.” She let go of his hand and left. She carried herself with poise and dignity but inside she was dying.

You were nowhere to be found. He spotted Liz who was chatting with some friends. “Where is she?”

“Auctions over. She left.”

“Shit. Thanks.”

“Andy, be gentle with her. Idiots.”

He ran to the valet and jumped in his car to race home. When he got out he noticed a suit case in the back of your car. The elevator was taking forever. He took the stairs two at a time to reach you before you got away.

He heard your heels clacking on the hardwood. Clothes were everywhere. “Y/N?”

“Bedroom.” You were still in your pretty dress. Still all made up throwing things in another suitcase.

“Going somewhere?”

“Hotel.”

“Mind telling me why?” His voice was hoarse like he had been screaming.

“The way you held her…you kissed her.” He grabbed your hands to make you look at him but you yanked them away. “This was stupid. I should have never gotten involved with you in the first place. Married men never leave. Please get out of my way, Andy. I have to go.”

“You think this was a mistake?” Slow tears rolled down his face. He undid his bow tie and sat down. “I don’t. I’m glad we met.”

“Why? Because I feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest. So why are you glad?”

“Because you reminded me what it felt like to be cared for. To feel loved. You showed me what I had been missing for a long time now.”

“Happy to have helped.” You continued emptying drawers.

“Please stop packing. Please.” You wouldn’t look at him. He tried grabbing you several times but you moved beyond his reach. “Damn it! Why? Why do you always run when things get hard?”

“I’m not running.”

“No? So Chicago just came up? Or did you put out your resume the second you heard I got the job you wanted?”

Your cheeks heated. “You know how this business works. If I got passed over this time, they’ll keep doing it.”

“Right. And tonight? The second things get weird you run.”

“You kissed her!” You were trying not to cry.

“I know. I was sad. We’ve been Andy and Lori for the majority of our lives. Tonight felt so final. I know we’ll always have Jacob but, there is nothing else there. Please. I am so in love with you. Please.” He dropped to his knees and hugged you tight around your waist.

“Andy, you have to let me go.” He pressed his face into your stomach and broke down. “Andy? Sweetie? Come on. Let go.”

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll let you walk out of that door. I’ll never contact you again. But I know you do.”

“Stop….”

“Aren’t you tired of running?” You were tired. You ran away from your family, former lovers, dead end jobs. You wanted to finally be settled. Leave with a clean break. There was nothing clean about this. If you said you loved him there was no going back. This would be at least three years of a long distance relationship because he won’t leave Jacob. You didn’t want him to leave his son. This would be you exhibiting a level of trust you weren’t sure you had. He fell in love with you so fast. In your absence, what would stop him from falling for someone else? You were so weak when it came to Andy. Fucking perfect at everything Andy fucking Barber. Why couldn’t you shake him? Why couldn’t you just walk away like you have been trying to do since the first time you had sex?

BECAUSE WE LOVE HIM YOU DUMB TWAT. Your brain screamed. You couldn’t make your mouth work. You ran your fingers through his hair, “I love you, Andy.”

He pulled you down onto the floor and kissed you with abandon. “Say that again.” he whispered against your mouth.

“I love you. I love you. God help me, I love you.” A smile was plastered on his face for the rest of the night. Packing could wait.

#andy barber smut #andy barber x y/n #andy barber angst #andy barber #defending jacob

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