#Distressed flannels for her
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God, Grant Me The Serenity Distressed Bleach Vintage Flannel Shirt
This God, Grant Me the Serenity distressed bleached vintage flannel shirt exudes effortless cool and laid-back style. Made from soft, worn-in cotton, it features a unique bleached pattern that adds character and charm. The classic plaid design combines earthy tones with hints of brighter hues, creating a perfect blend of vintage appeal and contemporary edge. This distressed finish adds a touch of character, making each piece one-of-a-kind. With its classic plaid pattern and relaxed fit, this flannel is perfect for layering or wearing on its own.
No two shirts will ever be exactly alike so please aware and embrace the differences. All shirts are carefully curated, hand-dyed, and re-purposed so that each shirt is going to be different from the next in terms of color and plaid print.
SIZING: These shirts vary, many are unisex and come in men's sizing. They can be worn by both men & women. Ordering your normal t-shirt size is recommended for a regular fit. Going 1 size up works well for a baggy/oversized fit.
FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.
COLORS: Each flannel is unique, and no two shirts are going to look exactly alike. Colors are sent at random. Because the colors often change throughout the bleaching process, I cannot take specific color requests for these shirts.
Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.
Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.
Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!
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Welcome to Granny’s Store! We’ve got a fantastic selection of distressed flannels, cozy t-shirts, trendy tumblers, and so much more. Whether you’re looking for a laid-back outfit or a fun accessory, you’ll find something special here. Don’t forget to check out our seasonal items and unique finds that capture that charming, vintage vibe! Remember, Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations is that "hidden" gem with unique, great quality, fun, gorgeous, innovative, and inexpensive gifts for your Loved Ones or yourself for your next shopping trip!
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differentcoloredkids · 1 year ago
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ONE TANDY BOWEN SCREENCAP PER EPISODE (Cloak & Dagger: Season 1)
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rueclfer · 3 months ago
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Can I request a best friends brother touya plssss :)
Ur loser Touya who, canon to your fics, writes in a diary journal is so good and needs a comeback 😭💗
Okay thank you byyyyyeee :P
god i love todosiblings tomfoolery in touya fics!!!! ily anon thank u for loving this loser as much as i do
open up the door // touya todoroki
“Knock knock.” The voice interrupts yours and Fuyumi’s chatter from the other side of her bedroom door.
“What?” Fuyumi calls out, cueing Touya to poke his head through the cracked door, eyes meeting her before your own, in which you quickly darted away. “Can we help you?”
“Yeah, you can actually.” He returns the tone, fully swinging the door open, leaning against the frame. “I hear you losers giggling and shit from all the way down the hall. Don’t you think you two should shut up and go to sleep?”
You look him up and down, eyeing the stretched out flannel pajama pants hanging low on his hips and distressed band tee over his lanky frame. The glossy sheen over his eyes and the state of his hair made it apparent that he had just rolled out of bed, woken up from yours and Fuyumi’s night time antics and gossip.
“It’s barely 12am on a Friday night, Touya.” You cock your eyebrow at him. “Nothing more important to do than to bother us?”
“Tell me, Y/N, what exactly am I interrupting?” He walks into the room, being careful to step over the scattered containers of various beads, rolls of string, and a couple pairs haphazardly throw scissors laying across the floor. “Friendship bracelets? Are you guys 12?” 
You were laying on the floor on your stomach as he approached you and stepped over you with a leg on each side. Touya leans down and looks past your head to see the unfinished bracelet in your hands.
“Whatcha spelling out, huh?” 
“Fuck off.” You huff, slapping his calf to shoo him away.
“Leave us alone” Fuyumi groans. “We’re gonna go to sleep right now, okay?”
“Sleep, don’t sleep, I don’t give a fuck. Just be quiet. Especially you, loudmouth.” He flicks the back of your head before stepping over you towards the door, clicking it behind him.
You and Fuyumi meet each other’s eyes before simultaneously letting out an annoyed sigh.
“Sorry, you know how he is.” Fuyumi huffs. “He’s so annoying sometimes.”
You had a long standing relationship with the Todoroki family. Your friendship with Fuyumi flourished in middle school when you had accidentally snapped her glasses in half during gym class. Luckily, for you two, you were a wizard with duct tape which had not only effectively fixed her frames, but made you two inseparable since. 
“Sometimes?” You scoff, beginning to shove the craft supplies to the side, making room for your floor mattress. “I was seriously planning on marrying into the family one way or another, but you gave me some shit options, Fuy. Introduce me to a cousin or something.
“Settle for him to be with me forever.” She sighs dramatically and shoots you a pout. “If you really loved me, you would.”
Another thing that lingered since you two were kids- the concept of setting you up with her older brother. The idea had always seemed so perfect for her. There you were, someone who got along with the family, the sister she never had, and most importantly, was “good enough” for her brother, who notoriously had a shitty dating history. However, Fuyumi’s fantasy quickly crumbled midway through high school, when Touya suddenly decided that he was too good for anyone- especially his little sister’s best friend.
“Touya’s a fucking prick, Fuy. I really do want to beat the fuck out of him, no joke, and I’m pretty sure the feelings are mutual.”
“Watch it!” She scolds you. “He’s not that bad, or at least not as bad as he used to be.”
“Not as bad? ‘Hey ugly’ is his go-to greeting for me. He acts like my presence is the most inconveniencing thing ever. If we're alone in the same room, he'll avoid me like the plague and then once there's anyone else around, suddenly he wants to annoy me at any given chance.”
“He’s going through a life crisis or something. Be nice.” She warns. “Or else I’ll kick both of your asses. Wake me if you’re up before me, okay? But only if it’s after 10am.” She yawns. “Goodnight.”
“Yeah whatever, g'night." You say and roll your eyes, knowing that you will definitely not be waking her up.
Now with the lights off and you two in your respective beds, all you could do is look up at the glow in the dark stars plastered to the ceiling, and think back on all of your interactions with Touya from the moment you met him to now- from your raging infatuation with him when you first met as children to the growing resentment and annoyance into your late teens.
-
The glaring sunbeam peaking through the curtains hit you right in the eye, effectively waking you up from your deep sleep. Your phone reads 6:54AM. You mentally groaned to yourself before rolling out of your mattress, exiting the dark bedroom with a soft click of the door behind you. On an early Saturday morning like this, the Todoroki household had its rare moments of silent solitude
Padding your way to the bathroom, you were still in a drowsy state, eyes lidded, and the heaviness of a deep sleep weighing on your shoulders. Once the door shuts behind you, you lean against the kitchen sink and rub the sleepiness from your eyes,
"The fuck, Y/N?" The familiar voice snaps you awake. Your vision focuses on the figure standing near the shower. "You pervert, what do you think you're doing?" He exclaims with a growing amused smile.
"Jesus, Touya!" You exclaim, taking a step back against the door. "Ever use a fucking lock before?" You lowly huff, trying to keep your volume down.
"Why would I when no one's ever up this early? Don't you walk around with your eyes open?"
"I just woke up like two seconds ago." You groan. "Why are you just hanging out in the bathroom?"
"Well I was going to shower. Unless you're here to 'beat the fuck out of me?'" He leans against the wall, arms crossed.
"Listening in on our conversation? Who's the pervert now?" You furrow your eyebrows.
"Involuntarily, with your loud mouth and all." He takes a step closer, almost closing the gap and leaving just mere inches of space between you two. "Sounds like you don't like me very much, huh? What happened to that little crush in middle school?" He kept his voice low.
"Fizzled out a long time ago when you started thinking you were too cool for everyone." You press your finger against the middle of his chest. "You're full of yourself, stuck up, infuriating to be around, and you have no reason to not like me when we've known each other for damn near a decade. You're such a dick for no reason."
"You done?" His amused smile grew even wider, making the fury in your stomach grow stronger. "Because I don't have to explain shit to you."
You rub your face in your hands in frustration. "You know what you act like? A 13 year old who thinks being mean to his crush makes them like you back." You cross your arms, almost tip-toeing your way closer to his face. "That must be it, huh? Can't navigate your feelings?"
Touya bit the inside of his cheek.
Before he could retaliate with another venom filled comment, someone on the other side of the door was knocking. Had you two been so loud this early in the morning?
"Y/N?" You recognized the groggy voice. "Are you in there? Can I come in?"
You froze and quickly realized how the situation looked- you and Touya almost pressed up against each other in the bathroom. Alone. After you had just told her all about your disdain for her brother the night before.
You locked your eyes with him. He opened his mouth, ready to respond in your place, in which you quickly slammed your hand over his mouth, and the other on his shoulder. You start pushing him back towards the shower.
"Yeah! I'm in here, give me a second!" You called out over your shoulder.
"What are you doing?" He mouths, taking a step into the shower before he could trip over the ledge.
"Shut up." You whisper back, closing the shower curtain. "Stay." You warn.
You took a glance at yourself in the mirror, silently hoping Fuyumi doesn't notice your flushed cheeks.
"Sorry I was getting ready to shower. Was I being too loud?" You open the door to see her sleepy state of lidded eyes and tousled hair.
"No." She yawns. "I got a migraine, I just need my medication."
You step aside for her to dig through the medicine cabinet for a moment, sending subtle glances to the shower every now and then, hoping Touya doesn't decide to make an appearance.
"By the way," She mumbles. "I was serious about last night. Be nice to Touya, okay? You know he kinda has a crush on you."
"What?" You exclaim a bit too loudly, slapping your hand over your mouth.
She shushes you, putting her finger over her mouth. "You'll wake him. He's a light sleeper." She warns. "But yeah, Natsuo read his diary last week and told me. I think I kinda knew though, since he's so emotionally constipated." She softly chuckles, lightly shaking the migraine medication into her palm.
"What the fuck, Fuyumi?" Your mouth hung open. "Diary? You tell me this now?"
"Well I didn't realize how much you disliked him." She smiles. "Just thought you should know. We'll talk more later, though. I'm going back to sleep. Think about it, and have a good shower."
"Okay.. thanks." You mumble, closing the door behind her.
If you really wanted to, you could let yourself feel mortified for Touya and make an agreement to pretend like that conversation didn't just happen, but you could feel the disgusting pride and ego growing larger by the second as you digested this new information.
Touya rips the shower curtain to the side, stepping out of the shower with a new layer of blush dusted over his cheeks and his wide eyes filled with embarrassment.
"Shut up." He huffs, running a hand through his hair.
"Didn't say anything." You shrug, pressing your lips together to suppress a smirk.
"Keep it that way, then."
He begins to make his way towards the door, in which you promptly block with your body.
"Y/N. Move." He demands, one hand on the handle and the other pressed against the door next to your head.
"Guess I got you figured out after all. You write about me in your diary often?" Your let your smirk grow. "You'd have better luck if you were nicer to your crush, don't you think?"
You could see that pompous facade of his crumble by the second with the way he bit down on his lower lip, cheeks growing into a deeper shade of red, and eyes darting away to avoid your own.
"It's a fucking journal. Not a diary. Let me out. I'm going to go smother that fucking brat with his own pillow."
"Why don't we unpack this here, instead?" You lean back onto the door, preventing him from pulling it open. "If you like me so much, why are you such a dick?"
A beat of silence passes as he releases a long sigh.
"I-" He starts, staring down at you with a sheepish expression. "don't mean to be an asshole. I just get nervous, okay?" His voice falters towards the end.
You cock an eyebrow at him. "Nervous? How does that make sense or justify anything?"
"Because I can't think straight whenever you're around. Which is all the fucking time."
You didn't think far enough ahead as to how you could navigate this. You questioned if this could even be considered a confession or where things would go between you two when you eventually let him out of the bathroom.
"We were fine when we were kids, though?"
"I didn't like you when we were kids." He huffs.
"So a few years ago? When you started acting like an ass?"
"I guess." He mutters. "Can you move over now?"
"I give you one chance." You cross your arms.
"Huh?"
"To apologize, confess and ask me out. Properly."
"Right now?" His eyes widened, mouth gaped open.
"Yup, or forever hold your peace and watch me get with one of your cousins or something."
"You'd actually go out with me?" He asks under his breath.
"Ask me and find out." You shrug.
He pressed his lips together, continuing to stare down at you with furrowed brows- of course you stared back in annoyance. You thought that he already had the easy way out, thanks to Fuyumi, so this hesitation only made you more anxious.
A voice in the back of your head had started pounding through the front. It was your 10 year old self. They're making your stomach twist in anticipation. They're making your heart race. They're making your hands clam up. They're hoping he'd do it.
But he wasn't.
"Okay, guess not then. I'm leaving." You suddenly blurt out, turning to grab the handle.
"Wait." He places his hand over the door frame, preventing it from pulling open. "Give me a fucking second okay? I feel like I can barely breathe."
He puts both hands on your shoulder, expelling a long breath of air to the side. You tense at the sudden physical contact, feeling the warmth of the palms of his hands melt into you.
"I'm sorry for being a dick to you. I'm sorry for not knowing how to act around you. I'm not sure I deserve it, but can you... give me a chance?" He spills out through clenched teeth, all in one breath.
His face was still flushed and expression was almost pained. You knew you backed him up in a corner but if he had this crush for a few years, was he ever planning on telling you?
"I know you had a crush on me when we first met as kids, and I know you definitely don't anymore, but if you want to give me a chance then I guess that would be.. cool." He sheepishly says, sucking in the inside of his cheek.
"You guess?" You cock your head to the side.
"You're fucking killing me, Y/N. That's seriously the best I can do at 7am right now." He deadpans. "Yes or no- before I start panicking."
You pause for a moment, taking in the weight of his hands on your shoulder and intense eye contact.
"I'll go out with you."
"Really?" His eyes widen, and grip tightening. "After everything? You will?"
You nod your head, slightly taken off guard by his surprise.
"Cool. Cool. Okay." He takes a step back, bringing his hands back to his side and shoving them in his pajama pants pocket, giving you space to take your exit. "Um. I'll keep you updated on that date then? When I figure it out?" He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.
"Cool." You say, still standing idly.
"Cool." He responds, pressing his lips together in a tight line
"Don't make it weird, okay?" You huff. "I don't want to tell Fuy yet."
"No weirdness here." He awkwardly smiles, now fiddling with the hem of his shirt.
"Okay we're done here." You teasingly roll your eyes. "You're being weird, so I'm leaving. See you in a few hours, loser."
You two exchanged shy smiles and glances before you made your exit, letting out an audible breath of air after shutting the door behind you. Later that morning, after his shower and getting ready for the day, Touya would find a beaded bracelet hanging on his bedroom's door handle, reading "T O U Y A < 3" in which he slipped over his wrist and would glance down at all day, reminding himself not to fuck it up.
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fox-guardian · 25 days ago
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please consider: alice but in her blue hair and pronouns phase
sorry anon you have Activated me because my tma-verse alice has blue hair tips instead of faded pink. so now you get blue hair pronouns alice AND an alternate sam!
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[ID: A digital drawing of Sam and Alice from The Magnus Protocol. Sam is a fat South Asian man with brown skin and curly black hair in a ponytail with a mustache, goatee, and body hair. He is wearing a white t-shirt, red zip-up hoodie, and green sweatpants. Alice is a tall, skinny white trans woman with freckles, shaggy brown hair with blue tips in a high ponytail, and snakebites. She is wearing chunky pink jewelry, a dusty pink tank top, a long plaid skirt, and a pink blue and white flannel shirt hanging off her shoulders. She is also wearing blue nail polish and a burgundy purse. Sam and Alice are holding each other close, looking worriedly off-screen. One of Alice's hands is rested on Sam's chest, with Sam resting his hand over hers. He is wearing a gold ring on that hand. end ID]
~~~~
unless given evidence to the contrary, i am choosing to believe that archives!sam and alice got back together and have been doing Pretty Well post eye-pocalypse (much to protocol!sam's distress upon learning of this)
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sempersirens · 1 year ago
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a bird in your teeth, III
masterlist
summary: joel deals with the aftermath of a traumatic experience
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
warnings: 18+, mdni, neighbour!joel, age gap: reader is early-mid 20s, joel early 30s. no break-out. reference to past SA, trauma, nightmares, general symptoms of PTSD. eventual smut
a/n: hello lovelies! slightly longer part ahead. i've decided to make the next part the final installment of this mini-series, i wanted to explore some more intimate aspects between joel and reader that didn't quite fit here. i hope you enjoy! <3
word count: 3.5k
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The sweet chirping of birdsong felt like Mother Nature was playing a cruel joke on you as you stood on the side of the street, arms hugged tightly around yourself. You felt as though the birds were laughing down at you, cackling at your wretched state, sharing an inside joke at your expense. As dawn drew in, her rosy fingers pulled at the remnants of the night's sky. The beauty of the orange and pink hues was wasted on you. To you, it served as a reminder that even as a new day rolled in, the memories swarming your mind wouldn't fade quite as swiftly.
When Joel's truck came hurtling towards you, all notion of time had faded away. You couldn't tell if seconds, hours, or even days had passed since you had lowered your phone from your face. Fifty dawns and dusks could've gone by for all you cared.
The heat from your pumping heart manifested into a blush that crept up your cheeks, and the consequence of your damsel-in-distress phone call settled in your gut.
Joel was here. You had called him, and he had come.
"What happened?" His expression was stern, hair disheveled, and flannel shirt almost comically misbuttoned. You would've laughed if you could remember how.
He grazed your bloody lip with this thumb.
"Sweetheart, what happened?"
"This was a mistake..." You became aware of his hands now on your arms. "Please, don't touch me."
The words tumbling out of your mouth must've sounded as limp and pathetic as you felt. Joel's eyes softened into confusion, and then concern. You didn't have the energy to pull away, but you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eye anymore. You feared his gaze would open every locked door inside of you and allow the mess to collapse onto him.
He said your name, softly, removing you from his grip and opening the passenger door.
"Let me take you home."
As you had done all night, you silently obliged. Joel guided you into the truck, his hand hovering over the crown of your head. He closed the door gently and made his way into the driver's seat, starting the ignition in silence. Was he angry? You couldn't work it out. His knuckles were wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel they had turned white.
"Joel, please don't be angry with me."
"I'm not angry. I'm taking you back to my place, gonna get you cleaned up, and then when you're ready..."
"Is Sarah okay?" You interrupted.
"Sound asleep. I gotta take her to school in a coupl'a hours, but I'll come straight back to you."
This wasn't right. You shook your head in soft defiance, staring at your lap where your hands sat, fingers interlocked. As you thought of all the trouble you had caused him, you noticed your thumbnails digging into your hands so sharply that you had drawn blood. You turned your palms shakily onto your bare thighs to hide the fresh droplets.
"Honey, where are your shoes?"
Joel's soft inquiry snapped you out of your trance; you hadn't even realized you'd left those fucking cowboy boots on the bedroom floor in your rush out of the front door.
"I left them... I-I didn't think to..." Your breathing became erratic again, chest heaving with each rise and fall feeling like a weight was crushing into your ribcage.
"Hey, hey hey. Breathe. You're with me. You're safe with me, you know that." He reached across your lap and squeezed your still interlocked hands, filling his lungs with air and then exhaling slowly through his mouth like he was a midwife guiding you through childbirth.
You copied his rhythmic breaths, focusing on the emerging purple colors now littering the sky. It was cruel for the sky above you to be so warm and inviting.
You wished for an English February; for thick layers of ice coating the ground with black ice hidden underneath. You wanted it to be the cold that had caused your muscles to freeze, or the harshness of a dry wind to be clawing down your throat. You wished you could blame the weather for the way your body was reacting.
Of all people, you didn't want Joel to see you as weak. You internally reprimanded yourself for pulling him out of his home, away from his daughter to come and save you. Your body and soul had never taken to relying on others easily. Who had you become? You were supposed to be strong. You moved across the world all by yourself, for god's sake.
"What's goin' on in that head of yours?"
"Everything."
The remainder of the journey was silent.
Joel pulled into his driveway, soon exiting the truck and jogging to your side to help you out.
"Easy, darlin'."
He carried your handbag on one arm and looped the other to support your waist. With his free hand, he unlocked the door and closed it quietly behind him.
"Sarah's not gonna be up for another couple hours, you go make yourself comfortable in my bedroom, I'll bring everything y'need."
You gave him a pathetic nod before traipsing up the stairs you had watched Sarah scurrying up only six hours ago. Despite your years of friendship with the Millers, you had never actually gone into Joel's bedroom. You had snuck a peek or two inside whenever the door was left ajar if you passed on your way to the bathroom, but had never set foot inside.
His bedsheets were haphazardly thrown back, half dangling onto the carpeted floor. The fan on his dresser was still humming, sending ripples through his pillowcases. You were reluctant to make yourself at home as he had instructed, so perched on the edge of his bed eyeing the posters dotted on his walls. His bedroom looked like it hadn't changed since his 20s, reminding you of how young he must've been when he started a new life to bring up Sarah in a home he could call his own.
Joel appeared at the door, shutting it softly behind him. He was balancing a steaming mug and a first aid kit in one hand, and some pillows from the sofa under his other arm. He set the mug down on the nightstand beside his bed. Tears swelled in the corner of your eyes at what you recognized as the Yorkshire Tea he kept stocked in the cupboard, especially for you.
"Want you to sit back and get real comfy, alright?"
"Okay."
You hesitantly lifted your legs to rest on the bed, shuffling backward towards the headboard. Joel set the first aid kit at the foot of the bed and leaned over to place the pillows behind your back.
"That okay?"
You nodded your head without looking directly at him.
Wordlessly, Joel walked around to the other side of the bed, setting himself down with a barely audible groan. He brought the first aid kit into his lap and started sifting through the contents.
"You mind if I take a look at your lip?"
"No. I mean - that's fine."
You parted your lips slightly, Joel's fingers lifting your chin up towards him.
"Washed m'hands, promise."
He pulled your bottom lip down to inspect the wound, cleaning the now-dried blood from your chin. The silence in his bedroom made his touch even more intense. You'd felt his hand on your waist, or accidentally brush past your bare skin now and then, but this... You had never been touched by anybody like this before. His eyebrows were furrowed tightly as he put all of his focus into handling you with care.
You had been with your fair share of guys before; boyfriends, one-night-stands, whatever. But the way you felt under Joel's gaze in this moment, holding your chin between his thumb and index finger, made you feel like nobody had ever truly touched you before. Like you were brand new. It made you want to sob. You had to start regulating your breathing again to prevent your lip from wobbling, shattering your impenetrable exterior.
"M'I hurtin' you?"
Finding courage hidden somewhere deep inside of you, you leveled your gaze with his. This close to his face, you could've sworn you saw his pupils dilate.
"No. It's fine, thank you."
"You're doin' so well, honey. Keep breathin' for me." He moved his thumb to stroke your jaw as he spoke.
"I'm sorry, Joel."
"Don't say that. This ain't your fault."
"How can you say that? You don't even know what happened."
"Don't need to. But, I'd be grateful if you'd be so kind as t'fill me in."
You sucked a breath in and brought your knees up to your chest. The birds outside the window began mocking you with their song again.
"You get in a fight? W'that friend of yours who picked you up earlier?"
Oh god. He really had no clue.
"No, nothing like that."
"Somethin' while you were out? Sweetheart, someone had t'have busted your lip like that?"
"I said no."
"So what, you don't remember? You taken somethin'? You're scarin' me, darlin'."
He was pleading. It was dripping all over his face, this deep despair searching your features for the answers your voice couldn't quite give him.
"No, I do. I mean- I said it, I said no. To a guy. O-one second I was falling asleep and then... he was just there, Joel. He appeared out of nowhere. I thought he had gone home. And I was saying no but he was all over me. He was everywhere."
Hot tears were streaming down your cheeks, a dichotomy of relief and anguish flooding through your veins so intensely that any hope of maintaining a stoic facade had long washed away.
You didn't make a sound as you sobbed. Your entire body jerked with each breath, snot ungraciously dripping onto your upper lip. It didn't matter. Joel wrapped you into him without hesitation, your face nestled against his shoulder. He rocked you in his arms, back and forth, back and forth. Your sobs intensified into his t-shirt, eyes squeezed shut. You could feel the tears clinging onto the material, but all he did was hold you tighter.
"Oh, baby girl. It's okay, I got you. I got you now."
"I'm so sorry, Joel." You choked the words out.
"Don't you dare apologize. You let everythin' go. Give all that hurt t'me. I'll take it for you."
Joel pulled you into his lap, your legs collapsed underneath you. He placed a hand on either side of your face, holding you inches away from his own. He had never seen you like this. It shattered his damn heart. He had to keep blinking to fend off his own tears.
“You did the right thing, callin’ me.”
Every inch of him wanted to go back in time to you lingering in the doorway and ask you to stay the night. Hell, he would've gone back to that first time he saw you and taken you in his arms like a sailor returning home from years at sea. The only reason he'd even had the courage to turn up at your front door, mumbling something about burgers, was because Sarah had caught him peeking at you through the curtains for the first few days of you moving in. If you like her so much, why don't you ask her on a date? She had asked so innocently. But she was right; it was that simple. He fired up the grill before straightening himself up and jogging across the street. A Glenn Campbell record had been echoing through your house, something he found even more endearing when he was struck by that accent of yours.
He wanted to tell you that the reason none of his first dates made it to a second was because none of them were you. He was setting these poor women up to fail; how could they ever compete with you?
But right now, you were here. Safe in his arms. He was going to do everything in his power to bring that light back into your eyes.
An hour or so passed like that. You pressed against his chest, falling in and out of a dreamless sleep, Joel's fingers grazing soothing patterns on your arm.
The sound of Sarah's bedroom door closing jolted you awake.
"Ssh, it's okay. S'just Sarah getting ready t'head out. Gimme a minute to go say good mornin'."
You nodded in response, mustering a small smile.
You felt tiny alone in his bed, the absence of his body leaving you feeling hollow. You pulled the covers up to your chin and drew you knees up to your chest, dreading to think what Joel would tell Sarah. She called me in the middle of the damn night, what was I s'posed to do? Maybe she'll get the hint and leave. Imagined narratives swarmed your mind.
Why was it so hard for you to accept his help?
"Oh my god," you gasped, sitting up. "Daisy."
In your state, you had left her there all alone. Mark seemed like a nice enough guy, but didn't they all?
You reached for your handbag hanging off of Joel's door handle and searched for your phone.
14 missed calls. You tapped your foot against the floor anxiously as the dialing tone sounded.
"Moooornin' Ms. Cocktease. How's ya head?" She chirped, the relief that engulfed you allowed your body to slack back onto the bed.
"I am so glad to hear your voice." You breathed.
"That's romantic. You gonna tell me what had you scurrying off in such a hurry at 3am? Y'left your damn boots behind."
"I was... really worried about missing my 9am. It's with my thesis supervisor."
"Sweetheart, a love you but you gotta learn to relax once in a while. Let off some steam! Unclench your jaw, woman."
"I know, I know. I'll work on it."
"How'd you get home, anyway?"
"Oh, um. I called a cab."
"I feel like you're lyin', and I intend to find out what's goin' on. I swear to god if you're fuckin' that old man I'm not gonna know whether to be proud or-"
"Listen, babe, I'm glad you had a good night. Give me all the gritty details over coffee tomorrow?"
"Oh fine. Enjoy your meeting."
The line disconnected as Joel re-entered the room.
"Hey, sweetheart. I'm gonna drop Sarah to school, but I'll be right back. Need me to pick you anythin' up from your place?"
"No, that's okay. I should get out of your hair-"
"I'll be right back."
He walked over and placed a kiss on the top of your head.
---
Joel couldn't concentrate for the entire drive back to his place. He had to pass the street he had picked you up from hours prior to get to and from Sarah's school. The image of you standing there so broken, now knowing exactly why, filled him with grief for the version of you he knew and adored. He wished he had known there and then what you had endured. He knew how strong and capable you were of looking after yourself, so he had to fight every urge to raid each block of flats along the street to find the guy who had done this to you.
He flexed his knuckles back and forth over the steering wheel, forcing himself to go straight home. Back to you. However you decided to deal with this, whether it be today or in five years' time, he would be behind you.
What he would do to find that pathetic excuse for a man, that boy, and slowly take each finger off that he had dared to touch you with. He would make him hurt in ways he didn't even know he could feel pain.
Joel's mind flicked back to the image of you breaking down in his arms and he sucked a breath in to steady himself. He wished he could take all of your pain away and alter the course of the last six hours to have you waking up in his arms unscathed.
He returned home to find you curled up asleep in his bed sheets. He crept under the cover next to you, about to pull you back into his arms when you started thrashing your arms and legs.
"No, stop!" You murmured, still fast asleep.
"Sweetheart, it's me. Hey, hey, hey. It's me. It's Joel." He spoke, holding your face between his hands to try to coax you out of your nightmare.
"Wake up, darlin'. You gotta wake up. It's me, you're safe."
Your eyes finally widened, consumed with fear and confusion. You searched your surroundings and backed away from Joel's grip, still calculating where you were and what the threat was.
"You're okay. Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby."
"Joel... I'm sorry, I-"
"Stop apologizing, I'm sorry. I didn't mean t'scare you, honey."
You sat in silence for a few minutes, slowing your breathing back down and ridding the sound of blood pumping in your ears.
"Do you mind if I have a bath, please?"
"Anything. I'll run you one now. Sarah has some o'that fancy girl soap if you want?"
You smiled softly.
"Sure, that sounds nice. Thank you, Joel."
Before heading to the bathroom, he placed a small kiss on your forehead, lingering with his lips on your skin for longer than he had before. Your eyes fluttered closed as you listened to his footsteps out of the bedroom.
Part of you was desperate to scrub away Elijah's touch until your skin was raw. But, another part of you didn't want Joel's smell to fade from you. In his arms his scent had consumed you, replacing the smell of your laundry detergent with his.
You squeezed your eyes tightly and shook your head.
Stop this. You're projecting onto him. He's looking out for you out of the kindness of his heart and you're taking advantage of it.
You tried to distract yourself from the fixating on the feeling of Joel's lips against your skin by shedding last night's clothes and replacing them with his dressing gown. Which of course also stunk of him. Great.
"S'ready." He called.
Catching sight of you in his dressing gown, Joel had to remind himself to close his mouth.
"Suits you." He smiled.
The bathwater was obscenely pink, bubbles almost escaping over the side of the tub.
Joel stood uneasily as you smiled at the domesticity of the scene.
"I'll give ya some privacy. Make myself busy downstairs. You just holler if y'need me, alright?"
"Joel, wait. Would you... it's stupid."
"What is it, sweetheart?"
"Would you sit with me? I really don't want to be alone."
Joel’s response came so quickly you didn’t even have time to feel bad for being so forward.
"Of course I will. You get yourself comfortable, I'll wait outside the door."
You discarded his dressing gown onto the floor, sinking into the warm tub. You ran some more hot water, feeling unsatisfied until the water was hot enough to leave your skin red wherever it touched.
"Come in." You called, your torso submerged underneath the bubbles with just your collarbones and toes poking out of the pink waters.
Under any other circumstance, he would've dropped to his knees by the side of the tub and told you that he had never seen someone look so perfect before. Your flushed cheeks and hair bundled behind your head against the tiles made Joel feel like he was staring at an oil painting in a gallery.
He adored you. Fuck it, he was in love with you. From the very beginning.
Joel lowered himself onto the closed toilet seat, arms resting on his knees.
"Temperature okay?" Was all he could muster.
"I added a bit more hot, I hope that's okay."
"You women and your damn hot water." He teased. "S'absolutely fine, honey."
Neither of you spoke for a little while, you rested your head back and soaked in Joel's protective presence.
"Can I ask you somethin'?"
"Of course, Joel."
"Did he..."
"No. It's funny actually, he couldn't get it up." You said dryly.
"But he tried?"
"Yeah, he tried."
"I'll kill him."
Joel's protectiveness overwhelmed you, feeling for the first time in your life that you had someone unconditionally in your corner. You lifted your arms from the water to cover your face in embarrassment, revealing finger-shaped bruises that had formed on both of your upper arms.
"Fuck," he breathed when he caught sight of the way you had been mistreated.
He knelt down beside the bathtub, gently pulling your hands away from your face.
"What can I do, honey?" He searched your face for an answer. "Tell me how to take all this away for you."
"Joel, you've done so much already. More than I could ever ask from you."
"I just wanna fix it."
By nature, Joel was a fixer. He patched up Sarah's knees and elbows after soccer games. He bailed Tommy out of jail more times than he would admit. Hell, he even fixed things for work. It was what he did.
"I want you to take me back there." You exhaled a breath you didn't realize you had been holding. "To the apartment. I need to go back."
"Y'sure that's a good idea?"
"I am. But I need to go in alone. I just want to know you'll be waiting outside for me if I need you."
"Sweetheart, I'll always come when you call."
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bunnylovesani · 10 months ago
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The Bratty Belle
Chapter 3
Summary: You drop your car off at James' shop and spend the day together, bonding more than expected when you receive a distressing phone call that makes your dark past come to light.
Tw: mentions of abuse/molestation/suicide
WC: 4k
Anxiously slamming the door shut, you got into your rusty car and started the sputtering engine. You almost lost control several times on the short drive over to James’ garage but tried your very best to park as sensibly as possible once you spotted him standing outside in his striped work suit, wrench in hand. 
“You okay?” He asks tentatively as you exit the vehicle, shortly after hitting the curb.
“Yeah! Yeah, great.” You squeak, brushing some dust off your dress and stumbling over to him in your clacking heels. He looks like he’s about to say something about your driving skills but just about manages to hold it in. 
“Come on through, I’ll give you the grand tour.” He opens the door and gestures for you to enter. A shiver courses through your body when his hand brushes past your lower back as you skip into the garage. 
“It’s not much but it’s mine.” His voice echoes against the walls of the open space, tall ceilings and greasy oil spills in abundance. 
“I like it!” You chirp, eliciting strange looks from some of his colleagues who wondered what the scantily clad floozy was doing in their workshop. 
“Uh, guys- this is Bunny. I’m servicing her car.” James explains once he catches sight of their puzzled expressions and they nod at you courteously. “Through here is my office.” He continues the tour and guides you to a small but sleek room complete with a desk and computer. “Leave the car with me overnight and I’ll have it ready for you in a couple days. Do you need some driving lessons while we’re at it?” He chuckles as he leans on his desk, crossing his dirtied arms. 
“I can drive perfectly well, thank you very much.” You huff, cheeks flushing at the memory of the cat you almost ran over on the way here. 
“James, where’s your other tool kit- you know the one-oh. Hey.” A brunette woman with a button nose and a blue flannel shirt pops her head in. A flannel that looked suspiciously similar to the one James wore the other day.
“Hi.” You quietly reply, insecurity enveloping you. She saunters over to him and rests her elbow on his shoulder, brushing past you lightly in the process. “We have to get the Beetle fixed by Tuesday- the woman called to push the deadline up.” 
“Seriously? Who does she think I am, her personal servant?” James recoils and the woman chuckles. 
“Relax babe, you’re all knotted up.” She chuckles as she massages his shoulder lazily with one hand. 
“Oh, and this is Bunny. Bunny, meet Vanessa. Vanessa, Bunny.” He points between you while tiredly pinching the bridge of his nose. Your lips form into a thin smile as you feel yourself shrinking. 
“Aw, she’s adorable. Shy too. What’s she doing here?” She looks you up and down broodingly. 
“Ask her yourself.” He pushes himself up off his desk and gives you a subtle wink as he heads out of his office. “Bunny, give me your keys and I’ll park the car into the garage. Meet me out back.” 
You nod obediently as your gaze follows him out, eyes eventually meeting Vanessa’s in an uncomfortable silence. 
“So. You’re his new neighbour, huh?” Vanessa opens up a pack of gum and takes a seat in James’ chair, not offering you any. 
“Yeah. Moved in last week.” You shuffle nervously under her unfaltering gaze, steely and cold. 
“And you’re already getting a free servicing job out of him. You work fast.” She smacks her lips and you scrunch up your nose at the strong scent of spearmint emanating from her.
“Oh no, I have every intention of paying him for all his-“
“He told me not to charge a cent for this job. Told me to put all costs on his card.” She interjects monotonously, making a stark difference to the chirpy demeanour she had when he was around. 
“Oh. Well, I didn’t know that.” You reply earnestly, feeling a slightly threatening aura lingering in the air.
“Now why would a cold, self-absorbed man like James suddenly want to start doing charity work well into his 30s?” She scans you scrutinizingly and the hair on the back of your neck stands up. 
“Are you accusing me of something?” You reply boldly, sensing her opinion of you had already been formed. 
“I don’t know, Bunny. That depends on what your intentions are.” She straightens up in her seat and blows a bubble with her gum. 
“James is waiting for me.” You head out towards the door, wishing for an end to this painfully tense interaction. 
“You sure that’s not all he’s waiting for?” She quipped and it took every last bit of strength to ignore her, continuing your march out the door.
Pacing to the garage where James told you to come, your head spun with confusion; why would he want to pay for you? You knew the parts wouldn’t come cheap and he’d made it clear he wasn’t trying to pursue a relationship with you- so what did he want? 
“That was quick. Thought you and Vanessa would’ve been chatting for a while longer.” He comments as he slams your car door shut, having just reparked it. “What’d she say to you?” He asks suspiciously after seeing your perplexed expression. 
“Nothing. Just didn’t find the conversation too riveting. Would rather see what my favourite mechanic was up to.” You joked, stepping closer towards him. He raises his bushy brows and cracks an earnest smile, pearly whites contrasting against his sweaty, tan face. 
“So what’s the verdict? Is she wrecked beyond repair?” You ask, peering over his shoulder to observe the rusty hunk of metal you called a car. 
“Of course not. I’ll have her good as new by the end of the week.” He pats your shoulder as he walks by you. “Let’s go for dinner.” 
“Oh?” Before you can even object, he’s unzipping his work suit and walking towards his truck. 
“Get in.” He opens the passenger side door and you find yourself jumping in without a second thought. 
“Burger and milkshake sound good?” He starts the engine with a roar and you nod in response. “Get this on.” He reaches around you and clips your seatbelt into place. 
“Thank you.” You’re filled with confusion over his strangely paternal behaviour as Vanessa’s words echo in your head. 
Glancing over to your left, you ogle the way he keeps a firm hand on the steering wheel, tapping the leather with his fingertips. His side profile is so entrancing, chiselled jawline and Adam’s apple framing his strong features perfectly.
“What are you staring at, you little creep?” He grins and you snap your head back to face the front. 
“You have something on your face. Bit of smudged oil.” You point at his cheek unconvincingly, hoping he doesn’t check in the rearview mirror.
James pulls into a parking lot outside a quaint little diner and parks the car carefully before jumping out to open the door for you. You got the sense that he wasn’t usually such a cautious driver. 
“A girl could get used to this.” You giggle as you take his hand and hop out of the car, walking with him to the entrance.
“It’s concerning that you find basic chivalry impressive.” He mutters, guiding you to a chequered cloth clad booth in the corner of the establishment before taking a seat with a heavy huff. 
“You tired?” You ask, sitting prettily opposite him. 
“Long day. Like every day.” He looks away, grabbing the menu a little too fervently. “What do you want?” 
“Oh, umm...” You peer over and scan the menu but the endless options have your head spinning- you’d always been infuriatingly indecisive. 
James patiently waits for a couple of minutes as you flick through the extensive pages before summoning a waitress over with a raised hand. 
“I’ll have a hamburger and coffee- leave the jug- and a double cheeseburger and strawberry milkshake for the lady. Don’t forget the fries.” He fires out and hands the sluggish waitress the menu back. 
“How’d you know that was what I wanted?” You squeak out, watching the waitress ring the order up in the kitchen. 
“Lucky guess.” He winks. “Too hungry to wait for you to analyse the whole menu. Hope you don’t mind.” 
“No, but a double along with a milkshake might be a little much?” You giggle, remembering how you’d eaten already before you came by. 
“Well, I have to keep you full. I can’t imagine how grumpy you get when you’re hungry.” He shakes his head at the thought. 
“Here’s that milkshake for the lady and a big ole jug of coffee for you, handsome.” The waitress saunters by and pours his drink into a mug, bending over to accentuate her cleavage. 
“Thanks.” He looks her up and down for the briefest moment before ducking his head, weaving it away from her to meet your eyes again. “How’s the shake, kiddo?” He smiles as you take a sip from the stripy red straw.
“Delicious. But I make it better.” You flirt, noticing the sulking waitress frowning as she trudged away.
“I’ll have to taste it sometime.” The expression on his face is calm and sincere with a hint of something in his eyes that you can’t quite explain. 
“James?” You intoned, dragging out his name. 
“Yes, Bunny?” He played along. 
“That day before you came over for the first time, were you arguing with someone on the phone?” You queried innocently, knowing already that he was. 
“You could say that.” He sighed and waved his hand dismissively as the food arrived, delivered by a waiter this time.
“Who with? It looked quite heated.” You coaxed, keen to know more.
“You talk a lot. Eat your food.” He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat before taking a big bite out of his burger. 
Not wanting to push his buttons any further, you abandon your curiosity for the time being and tuck into your meal.
You and James exchange several glances as you eat in a comfortable silence, that familiar bubbling feeling rising in your chest every time you made eye contact. Once you’d finished, James swiftly paid the bill- leaving no time at all for you to voice your protests and effectively silencing you by getting up and heading out the door. 
“Thanks for the lift home.” You murmured once you’d gotten back into the car and he looked at you with an expression that neared disgust. 
“What was I supposed to do, leave you to walk home after I’d taken you out? Honestly, what kind of fucking idiots have you been hanging around?” He scoffs, shaking his head and you shrink down into your seat. 
He wasn’t wrong, you’d never been around the gentlemanly type before and spending time with James was making you shamefully aware of that. 
“Would you like to come in?” You ask sweetly, swaying on your tiptoes once he’d walked you to the front door. “I have some more of those girl scout cookies you liked.” 
“Maybe just for one.” He chuckled at the mention of the sweet treat before strolling into your apartment. 
“Here you go.” You retrieved the pastries from the kitchen and handed them to James, who was standing patiently in the arch under your doorway with an endearing smile painted on his face. “I added some other things I thought you might like.” 
He inspected the transparent bag laden with cookies, cinnamon swirls and chocolate croissants- lovingly wrapped with a satin pink bow. 
“It looks so pretty, I don’t even want to open it.” He stares at it in disbelief. “Thank you. This is so nice. No one’s ever….you really made all this?” 
You nodded and his earnest gratitude warmed your heart. 
“I should be the one thanking you.” You brush your hand against the side of his arm. “I’ve never been shown so much kindness.” 
“Jeez, kid, it was only dinner.” He chuckles.
“And it’s only some cookies.” You assert and he stares at you with a look of understanding unlike one you’d ever seen before. “I know about the car too. Vanessa told me.”
He curses under his breath and looks away, almost looking embarrassed. 
“And you don’t even want to sleep with me. I’m confused, James. Why are you being so good to me?” You stare into his eyes searching for an explanation. 
“Bunny, how can you even say that?” He grabs your face affectionately with furrowed brows before awkwardly retreating his hand a moment later. “You…I don’t even know what to say to that. As if that’s the only interest a man could have in you.” 
“Well, isn’t it?” You ask dejectedly.
“Of course not!” His hands settle for holding your wrists, needing to touch you in some way but not wanting to overstep. 
“So what reason do you have?” 
He looks so conflicted that it takes him a little while to form his next sentence. 
“You seem like a good kid. If I can help you out, I’m happy to.” He replies with a heavy sigh- as if he’s releasing thoughts that shouldn’t be there. 
“And your girlfriend doesn’t mind?” You ask curiously. 
“It doesn’t matter what she thinks. My business is my own.” You look down and notice how firm his hold over your wrists still is. “And I wouldn’t go as far as to call her my girlfriend. We’ve only been out on a couple dates.”
Try as you may, you couldn’t stop the wide grin that spread across your beaming face.  You expected him to scold you in his usual cocky manner- to make some kind of comment about how that didn’t mean he was interested but he simply smiled back. 
A shrill ringing filled the room and you recognised it as the sound of your phone. 
“One second.” You giggled at James and he nodded, stepping aside to answer your call. Looking down at the bright screen, you saw it was your step-sister calling. 
“Daisy?” You picked up hesitantly- you weren’t exactly on speaking terms.
“Dad’s in the hospital. It’s not looking good.” Her grave voice exhaled and a shiver ran down your spine. You hated when she referred to him as your father.
“W-what’s wrong with him?” You ask with morbid curiosity.
“He was in an accident. Hit head-on by a drunk driver on his way to work this morning. You need to get here!” She choked back tears. 
“I don’t know, Dais…” Your mind flooded with childhood memories of your stepdad. Not a single one was pleasant. He might’ve been Daisy’s dad but he sure as hell wasn’t yours. 
“What do you mean you don’t know?! There’s no question, you need to come here and see him now!” She shrieked, desperation laced in her voice.
“I told you I’d never set eyes on that man again. This doesn’t change that.” You tried your best to sound stern despite the pain that was building. 
“I can’t believe you’re being so selfish. Distancing yourself from your family just to prove a point when we already know you lied.” The venom in her voice strikes you to your core. 
“I have done nothing but tell the truth. You all chose to take his side.” The tears started spilling. “My only real family was my mother. And he is the reason she’s no longer here.” 
“She’s got no one to blame but herself. She took the easy way out. I guess you’re a coward just like her.” 
“I hope he dies. Slowly and painfully.” You spit down the line before hanging up and throwing your phone across the room, a sobbing fit racking through your body. 
“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” James rushes over, wrapping his arms protectively around your shoulders. You’d forgotten he was even here but you were glad to be shrouded in his warm embrace. 
“My stepdad…he’s dying- and I’m happy about it? And I think I might’ve messed things up forever with the only family I have left. I’m a terrible person.” You choked out the words between snivels. 
“I don’t know about the rest but I know for sure you’re not a bad person. Calm down sweetheart, everything’s okay. I’m here.” You weep into his chest, staining his shirt with thick tears. “Why do you hate your stepdad?”
“Wh-when I was a kid, he’d - well he’d-“
“Take your time, angel.” He pulled you in closer when you struggled to get the words out. 
“When my mom first married him, he’d sneak into my room at night and do things to me. I was too scared to say anything. He said it’d be our little secret.” You shudder, feeling more vulnerable in this moment than you had in years. 
“Bunny…” James looked distraught, his face contorted and twisted into a look of disbelief, sorrow and disgust. “And you feel bad for wishing he’d die? If the bastard survives, I’ll go to that hospital and finish him off myself.” 
You stop the stream of tears for just long enough to gaze up at him pitifully- in a state of utter confusion that someone could feel so much empathy for you. 
“And I take it your stepsister doesn’t believe you?” He continues, rubbing your back in an attempt to instil you with calm. 
“No.” You sniffle. “She thinks I’m making it all up.” 
“Did your mother know?” He asks cautiously, careful not to upset you any further.
“No, no I hid it all. It was only a couple years ago that I worked up the courage to let it all out. Thought it would help but it turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life. It filled her with such regret and shame that she didn’t even get to finalise the divorce before she… she couldn’t live with herself knowing she’d let that happen to me. So she, she-“
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He pulled you down on the couch, sweetly kissing your forehead and smoothing your hair as you cried your heart out. 
“Daisy’s right- I am selfish. If I’d never said anything, she would’ve still-“
“Don’t.” He interrupted you. “Don’t you dare blame yourself.” 
You were used to being rattled beyond repair whenever you came into contact with your stepfamily- but you weren’t used to having someone alongside you to pick up the pieces. Something so unfamiliar had never felt so good. 
“Will you stay with me?” You asked with such tooth-rotting sweetness you were sure he couldn’t refuse. His eyes darted back and forth and he licked his lips in thought.
“Like, for the night?” 
“Yes. Just one night. Please.” Your reddened, glassy eyes looked up at him sanguinely. 
“Of course.” He whispered, rubbing the side of your cheek with his thumb. “Anything you need.” 
Your faces were barely 2 inches apart but your gaze was stolen by his soft lips, plump with temptation. He said anything you need, right? Leaning in a little more until the tips of your noses were touching, you planted a gentle kiss on his parted lips. They rested against each other for a moment before James kissed you back, snaking his hand into your hair as he brushed his lips against your own passionately. 
“Wait.” He pulled away with a wet smack. “You’re vulnerable right now. This is wrong.”
“Then why does it feel so right?” You attempted to close the gap between you but he backed away again, imposing an ever bigger distance. 
“Bunny.” He warned, not budging. 
“Okay. I’m sorry.” You looked down in shame. 
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He looked out the window and you both suddenly became aware of how rapidly night had fallen. “Let’s get you ready for bed, hm?”
“But what about-“
“I’ll sleep on the couch.” He quickly resolves the matter and stands up before heading to your bathroom. “Come on, let’s get that makeup off.” He beckons you and you slug over to him. 
“But I look awful.” You sulk, hesitant to reveal your natural face to him despite crying most of your mascara off. 
“That’s not possible.” He mumbles in a low voice, handing you some pre soaked cotton pads. 
You swipe the black streaks away and wash your face as he leans against the ledge of the bathtub. 
“All done. Are you gonna run away screaming now?” You playfully cover your face with your hands but he stands up and tucks your wrists down. 
“You’re perfect.” He stares right through you, not letting you wriggle out of his grasp until his words sink in. 
“Thanks.” You mutter uncomfortably, not sure what to make of the feelings he was bringing out in you.
You amble over to your room and change into your pyjamas; James being the gentleman he was closed the door behind you and waited patiently.
“You can come in.” You call out and he enters after a few moments to find you in your comfiest set of fluffy pyjamas. “Usually I wear something a little more cute but today, I just-“
“Stop explaining yourself.” He interrupted you again. He loved doing that. “You’ve never looked cuter. I like my girls a little fuzzy.” You giggle and playfully slap his hand away as he pinches your side. 
“Thought you said you don’t see me in that kinda way.” You questioned teasingly.
“And it’s time for bed, little lady.” He chuckles and you throw a pillow his way. “Under the covers, c’mon.” 
You shuffle into bed as he tucks you in, folding the frilly duvet in around you until you were safely cocooned. 
“Alright, all tucked in. You gonna be okay?” He raises his eyebrows with the cutest concern and you nod drearily. “I’m right next door if you need something. Good night, sweetheart.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead before turning the lights off and walking out. 
After several hours spent tossing and turning, you resign yourself to a night of no sleep. The cogs in your mind whir with dizzying speed and the memories that resurface make you nauseous. You shook your head every time the image of your stepdad, twisted grin beaming down at you took shape but it wasn’t enough to clear your dirtied mind.
Sitting up with a huff, you turned your bedside lamp on and wondered if James was asleep yet. Creeping out the door, you heard his light snoring from down the hall as you tiptoed to the living room. 
He looked so peaceful snuggled around the thin bedspread you kept on your couch but it dawned on you that in your distress, you’d forgotten to give the man a proper blanket. Quickly backtracking to retrieve a quilt, you grabbed your favourite pink one before going back to precariously swathe him in it, trying not to rouse. 
“Mm, Bunny?” He whispered sluggishly, still half asleep. 
“Just giving you a blanket. Go back to sleep.” You hushed before turning around to walk away but you felt a strong grip wrap around your wrist. 
“Are you okay?” He opens his dreamy blue eyes and sits up a little.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just can’t sleep.” You admit, already feeling bad that you’d woken him up.
He shuffles back a little before grabbing the corner of the blanket and lifting it up. 
“Come on. I know you want to.” He smirks and you bite your lip shyly. 
Moments later, you’ve crawled in beside him and you’re enveloped in his arms- the musky scent of his faded cologne lingering under your nose as you press your face deeper into his chest. He held a protective arm around your shoulder as yours lay slouched around his waist, the heavy weight of the duvet pressing down comfortingly on you both. 
James fell into the arms of Morpheus soon after and the gentle hum of his breathing resonated through the night, helping you fall into the most peaceful slumber you’d had since you were a child. 
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lewmagoo · 1 year ago
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Waking up to find your cowboy not in bed with you. His boots aren't by the door but you can see footprints in the freshly fallen snow outside. You follow them to the barn to see Rhett, asleep on a haybale wearing just his jacket. His flannel is now a nest for the barn cat's new kittens with another fleecy blanket added in for extra warmth.
rhett’s a tender soul. always has been. despite the fact that his father tried to quash that part of him, in an effort to “toughen him up”. rhett always kept that tender part of himself when it came to animals. he’s always had a special connection with them. with his mare, june, despite her stubborn tendencies. with the mysterious crow (affectionately named john) that follows him around every time he’s outside. with the cranky barn cat that tolerates only him. he’s the cowboy snow white, as you’ve lovingly dubbed him. there are always animals in his vicinity. he’s always been good about helping animals when they’re in distress. one time, he stayed up all night with june when she developed a sickness that required round the clock care. he nursed john the crow back to health when he injured his wing. he’s been known to raise orphaned baby squirrels and rabbits.
and then there’s the time that misty the cranky barn cat becomes pregnant. rhett watches over her carefully. it’s really a sight to behold. you’ve always loved watching him interact with animals. when you’re working in the stable or going on trail rides you’ll hear the way he talks to june, a low comforting rumble, communicating with her as if she understands every word he’s saying. you suspect she does. and of course there’s the way he’s so loving toward misty. she’ll always linger around his feet when he’s in the stable, and sometimes she’ll even climb up to sit on his shoulder. that happens less and less the more heavily pregnant she becomes. and then there comes the time when she’s going to give birth.
the closer the time gets, the more rhett checks on her throughout the day. and then, one morning, he slips out of bed early, leaving a lingering kiss to your forehead as you sleep peacefully, before he shoves his boots and jacket on and trudges out through the freshly fallen snow. that’s where he finds misty huddled in a corner of the stable, in the beginning stages of labor. he knows he can’t move her into the house, it would put her into distress. so he sets up camp in the barn. all he has is his flannel, so he shrugs out of it and allows misty to lay upon it. he’s a loving and gentle coach as she births her tiny little kittens, and once they come safely into the world, he tucks an extra blanket that he found in the tack room around the litter to keep them all warm as their mama gets settled around them. not wanting to leave her alone, he leans back against some stacked hay bales, but inevitably ends up falling asleep.
that’s where you find him an hour later. after waking up to an empty bed you head out to the stable to find him fast asleep, and there is misty the barn cat on the floor beside his feet, curled up with her new babies. it’s a precious sight, especially when you see he’s given up his shirt in order for misty to have a soft place to lay. you sit beside him on a hay bale and gently coax him awake. “rise and shine, cowboy,” you murmur. he stirs awake, and as he catches you looking at him, he smiles sleepily. “had t’ come help misty give birth,” he mumbles. “i see that,” you reply. “you make a great cat midwife.” he smirks at that. “thank y’. been practicin’ my whole life for this moment.” which is partly true. he’s been involved in plenty of animal births. “well, now that you’ve helped bring kittens into the world, how about some pancakes and coffee for breakfast? i’m sure midwifing made you work up an appetite.”
the promise of pancakes and coffee gets him up and out of his bed of hay, food motivated as he is. “don’t mind if i do,” he says as he pecks your lips. he still checks on misty throughout the day, and if the temperatures drop too low during the night, he will bring her and her babies inside to keep them warm. soon, your house is full of kittens. rhett is attached to each of them, even though he knows you can’t keep them all. before you find homes for each one, this is what he constantly looks like:
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he gives one to amy. he keeps the rest, insisting that this is their home and he doesn’t want to uproot them from it. that’s how you end up having four barn cats. at least you can say you won’t ever have a mouse problem with them around 🤷‍♀️
(thank you @laracrofted for bringing up rhett covered in kittens because it’s awakened something i think)
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bronx-bomber87 · 9 months ago
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Happy Monday Wonderful fandom. Are you still breathing after that little kiss teaser? Cause I was gonna pass straight out when I saw it haha We are a little over 3 weeks away from S6 premiere. Can you believe it? I need it to be Wednesday already for that trailer. Feels like we've been in this hiatus for years LOL But let's get back to the rewatch eh? Ahhhh the Valentines episode. So much goodness inside this one. From start to finish this ep is glorious. I knew from the promo alone was gonna be fantastic. The ep name is pretty apt. Off we go.
5x16 Exposure
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We hit the ground running in this one. Just a glorious shot of them sleeping in Lucy’s bed. The many ways I love this. Clearly he’s living there part time at this point. Staying over more often than not. If the man has a key i’m sure he has a drawer at her place as well. No way he doesn't at this point. My guess is Kojo having lots of sleepovers at Auntie Genny's with the kids too.
I love how peaceful they look in this shot. His body pointed towards her's in slumber. His head is damn near on her pillow. So close to one another. That gravitational pull just innate. Even when Tim is sleeping he is drawn to her. Just the little things that make me squee so very much. The domesticity of this moment has me reeling. As does this entire season for them really.
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Unfortunately their peaceful co-habitation is interrupted by Lucy’s phone going off. Tim groans sleepily. Asking who it is? Lucy says she doesn’t know as she goes to answer it. It sounds like a drunk dial. Lucy hops out of bed immediately. Tim reaching out to her side of the bed is so cute all sleepy. I vote for more sleepy Tim. Asking half awake if it was wrong number?
He watches Lucy moving in a panic and the sleep drops from him. Asking her what’s happening? Lucy informs him It was a distress call from a UC she trained with. We see Tim go from sleepy to fierce protector mode quickly. Hopping out of bed ready to back her play. He doesn’t even know what’s going on but he’s there for her. My damn heart. No hesitation whatsoever to back his girl up.
It’s written all over Lucy’s face how much she love this. Her appreciation and love for this man so apparent as he scrambles to join her. She didn’t ask him to and that’s what she’s loving here. He was coming whether she asked for it or not. He’ll always have her back. No matter the scenario. Also never be over the jammies and sharing a bed. I wanna squee into my pillow haha
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Something about Lucy driving Tim’s truck that is doing things to me. Like another version of wearing his clothes. I love it sfm. Tim waiting in the backseat with his gun at the ready. Phew lord started off this ep strong af. Lucy jumps right into character. God she’s good at this. She gets Noah out of trouble fairly quickly cause she’s a Queen. Lucy gives Tim the all clear to get out of the truck. Noah walks up and introduces himself to Tim.
Mentioning it was impressive she got backup this fast. Lucy proudly announcing it helped he was sleeping in her bed. Heh. Yeah he was. Noah then puts it together saying he’s THAT Bradford. So many questions stem from this statement I have to say. Clearly Lucy spoke about Tim ad nauseam at UC school. Not only that but the way she spoke about Tim Noah doesn’t seem shocked they’re together now. She clearly wasn’t with Tim during UC school so this is so damn fascinating to me.
I wanna know what she told Noah LOL As does Tim. Saying he’s curious to know what that means… Getting a small taste of some jealous Tim here I don’t hate it. I adore Lucy’s full bodied ‘No!’ in reply to Tim wanting to know more. Gotta love how expressive Melissa is. From her face to her body mannerisms. Why she’s always been the perfect Lucy. Just embodying her so well. Also am I crazy to think that’s Tim’s flannel? Cause looks a little big on Lucy. A girl can dream right? It’s possible...probably isn't but I want it to be LOL
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Lucy asks him what they just recused him from? He says ‘The Army of Freedom.’ It’s a militia group born in Victorville. Said his OP started about a month ago. Unfortunately hasn’t been able to breach their inner circle yet. Tim asks if he pushed little too hard tonight? Noah replies maybe…but he had to roll the dice. They’re about to move something big. He’s going to need a local assist.
Tim says he can set up at their station. We then get to see a little more jealous Tim come into play. I don’t hate it everyone. He’s also a little grumpy from the lack of sleep. Ha Not loving the 'hot pants' nickname clearly. Tim then makes the most obvious and dramatic eye roll at end. Clearly not amused by this inside joke of their’s in the least ha It’s ok love, you’re the only hot pants she wants. LOL
Jealously thy name is Tim Bradford in this scene though. He runs the gambit for emotions at the end here. He goes from confused in the cutest way about the nick name, then a little intrigued, but we end with his jealous dramatic eye roll haha I love this man so much. He is tired and over this rescue now. Goodness what a great cold open for them. Whenever we get the cold open usually gonna be a damn good ep.
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I’ll never be over how excited they both get when they find each other in the station in this season. Way she speed walks up to him. It’s so cute. Lucy hears the end of Tim’s conversation. All she hears is ‘You’re kidding.’ Lucy asking kidding about what? Tim’s clipped answer throws her off for a moment. But she doesn’t let it deter her too much. Touching his arm sweetly. Saying he left so early. That she had a whole Valentine breakfast planned for them. Gah I love that so much I can’t even stand it.
Of course she did. Damnit Tim why did you leave so early? Tim telling her she was up late he wanted to let her sleep in. Which is very sweet actually. Lucy apologizes but says it was nice to catch up with Noah. Lucy asking ‘We didn’t keep you up did we?’ Tim continues his grumpy short replies. Lucy is picking up on all of your being grumpy vibes. Did you think she wasn’t going notice you beautiful fool?
Love of your damn life knows you better than you know yourself. We get a SECOND sweet arm touch. *squee* Clearly something off with him. So Lucy approaches it with another soft touch to start. Knowing it’ll get his attention. Then sweetly asks if he’s ok? He lies and says he’s fine. Her face saying it all. Knowing he’s lying to her she’s just not sure why… Believe or not this is growth for Tim. His terrible lying showing how much she’s opened him up. He was as closed off as possible when they met. Now he's out here expressing feelings even if he's trying hard not to.
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Grey has Tim ride with Lucy and Noah today. Normally they’d be excited to ride together but you can feel the tension above. Mostly from Tim. He is an open book about how he feels about this today. Lucy is more concerned than she is tense in this scene. Wade wants Metro on scene ASAP for this situation. If he’s riding with Lucy and Noah that’ll happen. They’re looking for a random van that has explosive chemicals in it. It was meant for a meth lab Noah’s team took down. Now it’s floating around the city and needs to be found before it does damage.
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Another great shot of their day starting in the shop. Reminding me of 5x08 opening sequence. Lucy can see Tim is acting off still. Being Lucy she can’t let that stand. Having no idea it’s her that’s put him in this foul mood. Being the sunshine human she is tries to get him to engage with some UC school stories. I LOVE her putting her hand on the back of his chair. Crossing that invisible line of theirs that existed for years in the shop.
Getting as close to him as possible without actually touching. When Lucy sees the story isn’t working she makes a joke. Then touches his shoulder. Gah it’s so cute. She wants to get him through whatever this is by just loving on him. Trying to get him to smile. Sadly Tim doesn’t respond like she wants. Thought she was going to get the normal sassy reply back from him and nada. Lucy withdraws her hand confused but determined to figure him out.
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Lucy brings up Noah’s GF asking if he’s contacted her yet? He says no they broke up. Well that she broke up with him. Noah bringing up the elephant in the room that plagues them the rest of this season. Being a UC and being in a functioning relationship. I do adore Lucy being confident af in front of Noah about it. About them. Saying it depends on the couple.
Basically saying I’m sorry yours didn’t work out but mine will. She is all in and it shows in so many of her comments and decisions. I truly love it so very much. Noah makes a comment that has Tim shifting in his seat. Even turning the grumpy off for a moment. Looking over at Lucy when Noah tells her be a shame if she didn’t take the plunge.
So much being said in the looks above. The ever present issue they struggle to talk about is here. Rears its ugly head for first time since they got together. Gotta love Eric and Melissa’s chemistry especially in moments like this. Communicating so much without saying a damn word. Gah we’re lucky to have them.
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This next part is glorious for so many reasons. Angela, Harper, Nolan, Celina and Aaron are all gossiping on an open channel. Tim interrupts because well it’s Tim. He’s already grumpy today so this is last thing he wants to listen to. Angela calling him out for being so damn surly. Because she wouldn’t be his best friend if she didn’t. Saying he should be basking in the glow of new love.
Look at Lucy when Angela says this. Heart eyes for days for that man sitting next to her. As transparent as glass. Celina giving into the continuous gossip asking what they’re doing tonight? I love Lucy snatching the radio out of his hand. Even mad as hell at her he allows it because it’s wifey. Nothing he wouldn’t do for that woman angry or not. Lucy projecting what Tim is thinking. Saying they’re not talking about this on an open channel.
Look at how he has rubbed off on her I love it sfm. Also something about her jumping in and defending his side. *sigh* Gah getting me all in the feels. Also look at the way Lucy is looking at him when she does chastise the group. So in love with that man. Heart eyes nation in this shop. We can also see Tim fighting a proud smile wanting to stay mad. When he’s so impressed with her for doing that. Let’s not discount Noah being chill af in the back. None of this affecting him whatsoever LMAO
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Lucy can’t take it any longer and confronts Tim about it. We can see her studying his body language. Noticing how tense he is. He is broadcasting his feelings like a radio station. She knows something is amiss. Deep in her soul she knows something is off with her person. Love the way she is studying him then reaches out with a soft touch. Knowing it’ll get his attention and be an ice breaker into her asking. Her whole demeanor screaming 'Timothy my love what is going on?'
Lucy being as direct but soft as she can in her delivery. Telling him ‘Out with it.’ Tim ridiculous answer of ‘What?’ Like she hasn’t noticed him stewing all damn morning. You’re full of a lot of shit Timothy haha The disbelief on her face is so telling. Asking him what’s wrong with him today? He continues to be short with her. Lucy calling him the hell out on it. In a way only she can.
Noting he hasn’t even called her hot pants once. If Tim wasn’t being such a grumpus he would’ve been all over that. She is so right and knows him so damn well. Then she asks if it’s Noah? Is he jealous? Tim immediately saying ‘No.’ I mean it was a little last night…but it’s definitely not that now. It’s not helping but not the main problem here either.
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Tim FINALLY fesses up it’s her he’s mad with. Lucy is taken back but it becomes clear when he brings up Metro. Lucy tries to deny it and Tim gives that disapproving stare he’s so good at. Lucy giving in and saying he was SO miserable riding the desk. That she had to do something for him. Tim then shoots back the optics of it aren’t great for him. Lucy shutting this down asking if it’s fragile male ego thing? I mean it is a little bit. It's not the whole reason IMO (I'll touch on that more later) but it is part of it. Tim has grown leaps and bounds. Truly he has.
But he also still has to deep stubborn steak in him. One built on pride and earning everything he’s ever gotten. This is making him question if he deserves the position he now has. Negative grooves in his brain he still defaults back to. Now I know some may have hated his reaction to this. I won’t lie it wasn’t great. His reaction reminds me of myself pre-therapy. I would shut down and be one worded. Lash out if someone tried to get me to talk. My whole body would emulate frustration and annoyance. Just like he has been. I so relate to him reacting this way.
Once again not the best but the man is still human. Tim has earned everything in his career with hard work and his strong skill set. This was a blow to his ego 100 percent. He’s not admitting to this but it was. Lucy smells BS and is letting him know as much. I love how she holds steady and strong despite his boiling anger. Even making a joke Tim is just mad she solved it better than him LOL I mean she did…Lucy saying ‘We’ just wanted to help. Tim getting more ramped up hearing this. Lucy cracks me up stumbling on her words saying we? I meant Me. Ha smooth…
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This scene in his office is *chef’s kiss* I remember being excited this was their first fight as a couple. Because it’s so healthy to be fighting from time to time. Something neither of them had in their previous relationships. This was an important fight for them to have. They come out the other side of it stronger because of it. This is good angst. Productive fighting. I’ll take that any day damn if it moves them forward as a couple. This most definitely did.
Lucy comes into his office ready to confront this problem head on. Their talk in the shop leaving too much left unsaid. Lucy is a lot like me and can't let sleeping dogs lie. She has to clear the air and confront things. I do love her patting herself on the back as she launches into why she did what she did for him. I mean she did spearhead a miracle for him. She just needs him to see WHY she did it.
His anger has clouded that all day and it's part of why she is here now. Tim barely looks up from his paperwork as she starts her explanation. Still so angry about this whole thing. Lucy starts out with saying she gets why he’s angry. He looks up at her finally. Lucy going on a mini rant about why she did what she did. That she did it masterfully (I mean she most definitely did) Kudos to her amazing brain.
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Lucy finishes off saying despite all that she shouldn’t have done it behind his back. Tim being a sassy sass pot asks if that was an apology? My goodness Timothy. The salty sass. You can see there is still a lot of seething going on under the surface. Lucy immediately says yes. Tim not seeming less mad just replies ‘All right.’ Her apology feeling like it's made zero difference in his anger about what's happened. Also Lucy's 'Yes' doesn't seem whole hearted either because she's holding back and decides to let it rip instead.
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We see this is not sitting right with her. So she backtracks and says ‘No!’ I love her for this. Could've taken his half hearted acceptance but she didn't. Knew it didn't feel right to her. She wouldn't be Lucy if she just let that happen either. Knowing things felt unresolved still and not being able to stand that. The whole purpose of her coming to him was the clear the air. Tim looks exasperated af with her reply. That famous he can't believe she just said that look. He's about to be taken to school and probably knows it.
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Lucy launching into exactly why she is sorry but not sorry. I love this fireball of a woman. (So does Tim) That he never would’ve let her work her magic if he knew. She’s not wrong… Same goes for her. If Lucy had known he was taking that desk job she wouldn’t have allowed it. What makes these two dopes so perfect for one another. That she would’ve ended up transferring just to save him from himself. Which was what they were trying to avoid in the first place.
Lucy stands her ground and lets him know this worked out SO much better. I mean it really did. That if he can’t see that she’s sorry not sorry. This is where we see Tim turn the corner. What I love the most about this part is how she stood up so confidently. Strongly stood by her decision on what she did. Her sorry not sorry is perfect. Basically saying ‘I love you, you idiot and I don’t regret doing this for you.’
It’s not the apology that soothes Tim’s anger. No it’s her conviction in why she did this for him. Seeing that fire she has and he is feeling so lucky he gets to have her in his corner. Lucy is 100 percent unapologetically herself in this moment. Her standing up to him is one of the many reasons Tim fell for her in the first place. So naturally her ‘non’ apology is what gets it done. Not her I don’t really mean this but you’re mad at me one.
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He loves that woman standing in front of him so much. It shows when she’s done. It’s why he’s smiling at the end of her ‘non’ apology. She is his rock, his compass and his sunshine lighting his path when he needs it. But mostly she is a guiding force in his life. Kicking him back onto the right path whether he realizes he needs it or not. Beautiful thing is she has his back. He’s so not used to this type of love and support. It's a throw back to 2x01 in a way with his reaction to it. How visceral and angry he was then and now. Once again doesn't see her protecting him and helping him as a positive thing. And just like in 2x01 he didn’t see it this way until she stood up. Smacked some sense into him. Let him know why she'd done it.
Doing it this time around because she loves him so much. Only wants the best for him. Let's not forget this man has been put second in all of his other relationships. His needs being put on the back burner to take care of those he loves. Had to suppress his emotions for years. When you let yourself start to feel after years of not it's a tidal wave that drowns you. It's overwhelming really. Luckily Tim has Lucy to drag him to dry land. So when he's taken care of he doesn’t know how to handle it. It's not something you just get used to in an instant. Just like in the beginning with Lucy when she would push him to open up. We got surly angry Tim but he eventually came around. This is no different. He isn’t used to be put first. His gut reaction was hurt and being defensive.
Not oh Lucy did this because she loves me. Because he probably in the back of his mind still doesn't feel worthy of that love still. And although he has grown. So very much. He still isn't used to having someone fiercely love and defend him the way Lucy does. That's why this scene was so important for her to back her decision. To make him see exactly why she did this. It’s why he’s smiling at the end of it. This beautiful, driven fireball is his and she’s in his corner. What’s hitting him is that realization. She put him first and put in a massive effort to do so. Not only for him but for them as a couple. He is so very lucky to have someone as wonderfully understanding as Lucy to love him through these types of moments.
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I love how once the dust is settled they just morph back into them. How it should be. Fighting is meant to be cleansing. To confront the issue and then be done with it. Confrontation gets a bad rap. It’s meant to clear the air so both parties feel better after. Her cute. ‘So are we going to dinner or what?’ Haha They already missed her breakfast. She wants to do something with her man.
Tim couldn’t be cuter saying they are. But her outfit is missing a little something. Lucy being very confused by this. Saying 'What?' Then seeing the jewelry box in his hand and melting like butter. Tim could not be cuter handing it to her. Love struck as he gives her his gift. Telling her ‘Happy Valentines Day.’ The biggest grin on his handsome face. Lucy beaming right back at him. Her eyes screaming how much she loves this man.
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She is so impressed with him. So impressed she’s shocked he picked this out LOL He knows his girl. Tim is offended asking her if it’s that shocking? Lucy soothing his ego saying ‘No.’ Letting him know he clearly has good taste. I mean he does. He is in love with her after all. He really did a good job. That is the perfect Lucy necklace so he nailed it. The man has noticed a trend is what she wears. Well done Timothy. Your girl is mighty impressed with your gift giving skills. How far you've come since your days with Rachel ha
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It’s so intimate and sweet the way he puts it on her. Lucy is radiating joy as he does this. The way she looks at him while he puts it on and slides his hand down to adjust it. *heart clutch* She is revved up and wants to skip dinner now. More than ready to ‘Thank’ him for her gift. I love her being the one to suggest just skipping dinner and having her way with him instead. Tim saying 'No I'm hungry.' Lucy is feeling a little rejected like ‘Oh. Ok..’
Tim doesn’t let that feeling linger for long. Touching her back intimately mentioning she’s gonna need fuel for later. OMG. He just said that and I’m reeling. I rewound it I remember being so damn giddy. Basically saying she needs fuel to keep up so he can have his way with her. Tim Bradford talking about sex in his office. Not only that but they’re gonna have so many rounds he wants her fueled up. *fans self*
Lucy’s face is everything afterwards. She is blushing but also so ready for their night together. Man has some pent up tension to burn off but needs food first LOL Lucy is very ready to go to dinner now. Especially knowing what awaits her when they’re done hehe I can only imagine how antsy she was to get back to either his or her place following that dinner. I love how the writers constantly insinuate their sex life is spicy and active af. I adore it so much. I mean did we really expect anything less? Doesn’t make me love it any less though.
Anyone else just in shock we got all these goodies still? I keep saying feels like a fever dream because it does. In the best way possible. After last episode this was start to finish incredible.
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Side notes-non Chenford
Wesley accidentally hiring a beautiful woman to guard him is hilarious. A non pregnant Angela wouldn’t be amused. A very pregnant one is ready to wring his neck.
Celina’s murder case gets brought back up. This SL is so good. It was my turning point for her as a character I needed that to care and give her more depth.
I did love how all the couples started off rocky and ended up fine by the end was growing a little from it. I do love Nyla and James so much.
Thank you forever and always to those who like, comment( love dem comments) and reblog these. S5 been so fun to analyze thank you all for still being invested in these all these months later. See you all in 5x17 :)
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freesia-writes · 5 months ago
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Ch 10: Storm on the Shore Pt. 2
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~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter ~ WC: 2k
WELL THIS IS THE MOST ACCURATE BACKGROUND NOISE YOU COULD HAVE, LOL: 24Hr | Seaside Storm in a Cave / Ocean Waves, Distant Thunder,Fire and Rain Sounds for Sleeping (youtube.com)
And LOOK AT THIS FANART BY @perfectlywingedcrusade!!
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As the fire grew into a satisfying source of warmth near the opening of the cave, just far enough inside to let the smoke out but still sheltered from the wind and rain, Hunter and Lyra huddled around it, shadows dancing across their faces as the contented crackling faded into the sound of the storm outside. He had removed his jacket, spreading it out nearby to dry as much as possible, and with quite a bit of protest from her, had also ventured quickly into the rain to fetch her own jacket, which he had to wring out at the mouth of the cave before bringing it in to lay it next to his. His thick flannel shirt stretched across his back as he hunched, rubbing his hands absently near the dancing flames. 
“I’m sorry we’re stuck here,” Lyra said, eyes darting to his for a split second before returning to the fire. 
“Eh,” Hunter shrugged, “It could be worse.”
“The office ladies are going to be heartbroken that you’re not in your shop for their ‘morning sausage run’ before school starts…”
Fixing her with a mockingly stern look that led them both to chuckle quietly, Hunter noticed her heartbeat speeding up again, and subtly watched her body language to see if she were in pain from the ruthless pinching her leg had received from the spiteful crablike creature she’d thought was just a shell. He was unable to discern other signs of distress, leaving him mildly confused as to the random chemical changes he could just barely pick up during many of their times together. 
“I’ll just tell them it was your fault,” he added, smiling as she quickly looked back up at him in horror. Her long brown hair still hung fairly damp, save for a little crown of frizz that danced on the very top of her head, and her dark eyes sent an unexpected jolt of electricity through his body with their simultaneous vulnerability and intensity. It threw him off for a moment, causing his grin to drop into momentary seriousness.
“What?” Lyra asked, anxious at his sudden change in composure. She glanced around the cave and toward the opening as though searching for a threat, giving Hunter time to recover.
“Nothing,” he said, following her gaze. “I… uh… Did you feel that breeze?”
“...No?”
“It felt like it came from the back,” he continued, legitimately (and gratefully) distracted by the slight sense of cool air on the side of his cheek that faced away from the entrance.
“Are you hoping to blow dry your luxurious hair?” she attempted, cringing inwardly as soon as the words were out of her mouth.
“Luxurious, eh?” Hunter echoed, tilting his head back toward her with a look that concealed the slight sense of flattery he didn’t want to admit he felt.
“Oh, I felt a little wind!” she exclaimed instead, and he laughed out loud at her thinly-veiled effort to change the subject. He hadn’t felt anything that time, but he let it slide. They’d had a few moments over the last number of weeks of innocent questions that seemed to touch a nerve or pry too far, resulting in withdrawal and awkward silence, so in response, they had both settled into a comfortable understanding that information was to be taken as it was offered instead of pursued through inquiry. He rose to his feet in one lithe movement, stretching out the stiffness that had formed in his time crouched by the fire. 
“I’m gonna check it out.”
“Why?” Lyra asked, so bluntly that he was momentarily taken aback. But her tone was one of apprehension, not challenge.
“Might be a way out of here.”
“But what if there’s… stuff back there?”
“That’s the point,” he said, smiling faintly. 
“Maybe the crab had friends,” she added, a breezy smile failing to conceal her trepidation. “Bigger ones.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time…”
He could sense her anxiety as she followed suit, rubbing her hands over the fire one last time before getting up and hobbling to his side. She was torn in a way that surprised her – the logical choice would be to continue her enjoyment of the toasty little space he’d created, but she also felt nervous about him going alone. Not that she would be of any help in a crisis situation… obviously. Yet she was inexplicably compelled to join him. 
“Lead the way.”
“I can scout it out and come back to get you if there’s an exit,” he offered, unsure about her participation.
“That’ll take twice as long,” she pointed out, grabbing their clothing from the ground and shaking them out. “Besides, I think I can hear my fireplace calling to me…” Her jacket was still fairly damp, but Hunter had wrung out most of the water and its time by the fire had made it a good amount lighter. She tied it around her waist, passed his own to him, and nodded decisively. The corners of his lips lifted slightly, and he pulled his coat on snugly. 
He offered an arm to her, noting just how taken aback she appeared at the gesture. After a moment of internal struggle, she gingerly took it, laying her fingers across his forearm but carefully keeping a distance between their bodies. Again, his heart warmed slightly at seemingly nothing in particular, and they headed toward the back of the cave. 
It was a cavernous opening initially, with the dancing glow from the dying fire just barely illuminating the rocks that jutted at them from ground and ceiling alike. They walked wordlessly, arm in arm, with only the sounds of their steps, droplets falling from above, and the waves and rain outside. As the cave twisted and turned its way into the cliff, Hunter could feel Lyra growing more tense, her heart rate increasing and a light sweat breaking out across her body. Her eyes darted to and fro, and her hand tightened around his bicep as she slipped on a step. 
“You okay?” he said, the softness of his voice contrasted by a slight husk from not speaking for a while; it quickly captured her attention from all of the “threats” she’d been vigilant to scan for, and she nodded silently. “Are you nervous?” he finally asked, watching her expressions flicker from conviction to sheepishness. 
“Yes,” she whispered, lowering her head. 
“It’s alright. I promise. We’ll be fine,” Hunter said gently, his chest swelling with some feeling as he could see a grateful smile barely peeking out beneath the curtain of hair that concealed her face. He reached into his bag and pulled out the small light again, clicking it on and shocking their eyes with a bright little beam that illuminated the next few steps. As they began moving again, he noticed she had shuffled a hair closer to him.
“You’ve spent a lot of time in caves?” she asked, still tense with apprehension. 
“Some,” he answered, still not having shared many specifics about his past in the GAR. He’d focused mostly on their independent chapter of life, painting the picture of him and his family wandering the galaxy and taking various jobs to support themselves, which resulted in his wide skill set. “I’ve been in a lot of dangerous situations.” It could have come across as prideful or boasting, but he’d said it so factually and humbly that it seemed to drive the point home, and he noticed Lyra’s shoulders relax the tiniest bit. 
“Sounds stressful.”
“Yeah… You get used to it.”
“I don’t know that I could,” she chuckled, looking up as he came to a sudden halt. 
“Hm,” he said, casting the light all around in front of them. It appeared that they’d reached a dead end as all sides of the cave had closed in on them, and yet he could swear he sensed a large hollowness behind it. He felt around the edges, wondering if it was a large rock that had broken off from the rest to block the pathway, but despite his strategically-located pushes and shoves, there was no movement to be had. 
“Time to go back!” Lyra announced, proactively taking his arm again. They could barely hear the storm anymore; they may have been too deep in the cave or it could have stopped. Hunter furrowed his brow, taking a few last one-handed pokes around the wall in front of them, then nodded. 
“I guess that’s our only option.”
Upon their return to the mouth of the cave, they were pleased to find that the storm had indeed blown over, and the dark skies had lightened a bit to a morose gray canvas full of swirling clouds. They ventured out onto the beach, grateful for the slowness of the tide’s changes that meant it was still quite low, which allowed them to skirt around one of the rocky walls that formed the sandy inlet onto the next beach past it. This one had a much more gradual slope up to the cliffs above, and the pain in Lyra’s leg had receded enough for her to walk unassisted. 
It felt like a longer walk than usual back to their homes; Hunter couldn’t quite tell why. Nothing significant had happened and yet he felt a deepening bond between them, whether it was a sense of protectiveness, increased vulnerability, or something else. Lyra’s house was at a lower elevation, perched on a flat chunk of land near the edge of The Forest with a decent view of the seas below, while Hunter’s was farther up and deeper into the woods. He didn’t realize they’d taken the path toward her home, lost in conversation as they’d been, until she drew to a halt at the gate of a rickety fence made of random pieces of driftwood and tree branches. The property beyond the fence was lush, with plants and trees of every shape and size, and Hunter could see a white cottage tucked into it, the sea lying below the cliffs a ways past it. 
“This is me,” she said, nodding toward the cozy home. “I’m gonna comm the school to let them know I’m alive… and I don’t think I’m going in today.” She chuckled, and he could almost hear the plotting in her head of a decadent day of relaxation by the fire and, if he knew anything from their many chats over the last few weeks, probably some baking of delicious savory treats. 
“I might not open the shop today either,” Hunter said. “Perks of being self-employed.”
“Mmm,” she agreed, lifting her eyes to his for a moment. Brown met brown with softness and depth, and he felt that queasiness in his stomach that had made the occasional appearance lately. “Um… Thank you again… For everything. And I’m sorry.”
“It was nothing,” Hunter said. “In fact, I think I owe you one for getting me to take a day off of work.”
“So I’m a clumsy burden and a bad influence? Great,” she deadpanned. 
“Neither,” he reassured.
Lyra hesitated, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and untied her jacket from her waist to instead fold it over her arm and clutch it tightly. There was a pregnant pause in the air, as though there were some kind of decision to be made. But neither words nor invitations were forthcoming.
“I… uh… I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” she said quietly, dipping her head and opening the creaky gate, slowly and almost hesitantly admitting herself. She left it open, turning back to give him a small wave as he said his own goodbyes, then continued on the pebbled path toward the cottage. 
Hunter remained at the entrance for a minute, watching her disappear inside the small white house, then heaved a great sigh. The air was filled with scent – the flowers, fruits, and vegetables in her garden; the contented clucks of the local ground-dwelling birds; the salty breeze of the sea; and the musky scents of the cows and horse-like creatures that roamed where they pleased. He felt as though he could stand there forever, comforted by the quiet nature symphony and the tranquil surroundings. But, after a few moments, he took one last deep breath and continued on his way.
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wolfie-d00dles · 2 months ago
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My version of Monster High G3 (part 1)
These are a work in progress, and there are definitely more to come! It does take me several hours to complete one drawing simply because I want to put my love and dedication into my designs, and I want each character’s personality and story to be reflected in their look. Please enjoy ⚡️🧠🐾
More in-depth descriptions under the cut!
⚡️Frankie Stein (They/Them)⚡️
Frankie’s personality in G3 is very energetic and quite literally electric. They have dreams of becoming a monster surgeon, and they also enjoy STEM activities such as building gadgets and attachments to their body. In my design I wanted to give them a unique, almost neon-punk mad scientist, style. I feel like Frankie finds reflecting their unique identity in their self-expression to be very important. I kept their gender identity and sexuality pretty canon to the show because I think it’s amazing to see for a main character. Also as a neurodivergent person I see myself in Frankie and their personality a lot, which is why in my version they are absolutely neurodiverse in some way.
Flags/Symbols Included: Neurodivergent infinity symbol, non-binary flag, lesbian flag
🧠Ghoulia Yelps (She/They)🧠
I know there’s a lot of dislike for Ghoulia’s new character in G3, but honestly I really do like seeing her being portrayed as a gamer ghoul type nerd versus being a numbers and tech nerd like in G1. I think her character design needs a bit of work though. In my design she’s kind of a more realistic gamer in terms of dress I feel like, and also has a bit of edge as well. I headcanon them as being slightly emo and it shows in their style hence the classic beanie, plugs, converse, and hoodie/t-shirt combo. And I feel like she’s the type to wear strictly pajama pants and sweatpants due to sensory reasons (jeans are evil), but they usually have some kind of graphic patterns on them! I feel like a good aspiration for them would be learning how to code and create video games. I could also see them enjoying animation as well, potentially incorporating their own animations into games. Also, I’m taking away the skater ghoul aspect completely just because I think the animation and video game/coding hobby is a lot more interesting!
Flags/Symbols Included: Neurodivergent infinity symbol, bisexual flag, demisexual flag.
🐾Clawdeen Wolf (She/They)🐾
Clawdeen’s character revamp in G3 is another controversial one that I see the fandom divided on as well. A lot of people miss her glamorous and fierce style, while others embrace the change. I personally adore Clawdeen’s new look, and I definitely leaned into it in my version. I felt like I just had to make her a tumblr ghoul. Idk what the Monster High equivalent of Tumblr would be, but she’d definitely be on there with blogs about books, following fan fiction tags, and aesthetic mood boards and photos. I totally get those vibes from the OG design, but I needed to see them in a beanie, flannel, tattoo choker, distressed/cuffed skinny jeans, doc martens. I also just had to give her the galaxy wolf shirt her doll outfits always have a celestial theme and galaxy print was THE shit.
Flags/Symbols Included: Unlabeled flag, queer flag
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God, Grant Me The Serenity Distressed Bleach Vintage Flannel Shirt
This God, Grant Me the Serenity distressed bleached vintage flannel shirt exudes effortless cool and laid-back style. Made from soft, worn-in cotton, it features a unique bleached pattern that adds character and charm. The classic plaid design combines earthy tones with hints of brighter hues, creating a perfect blend of vintage appeal and contemporary edge. This distressed finish adds a touch of character, making each piece one-of-a-kind. With its classic plaid pattern and relaxed fit, this flannel is perfect for layering or wearing on its own.
No two shirts will ever be exactly alike so please aware and embrace the differences. All shirts are carefully curated, hand-dyed, and re-purposed so that each shirt is going to be different from the next in terms of color and plaid print.
SIZING: These shirts vary, many are unisex and come in men's sizing. They can be worn by both men & women. Ordering your normal t-shirt size is recommended for a regular fit. Going 1 size up works well for a baggy/oversized fit.
FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.
COLORS: Each flannel is unique, and no two shirts are going to look exactly alike. Colors are sent at random. Because the colors often change throughout the bleaching process, I cannot take specific color requests for these shirts.
Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.
Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.
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Welcome to Granny’s Store! We’ve got a fantastic selection of distressed flannels, cozy t-shirts, trendy tumblers, and so much more. Whether you’re looking for a laid-back outfit or a fun accessory, you’ll find something special here. Don’t forget to check out our seasonal items and unique finds that capture that charming, vintage vibe! Remember, Granny and Grandpa's Custom Creations is that "hidden" gem with unique, great quality, fun, gorgeous, innovative, and inexpensive gifts for your Loved Ones or yourself for your next shopping trip!
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a-witches-riddle · 3 months ago
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I find it so funny how the progression of my fashion has developed over time throughout my transition, to where I used to dress very “biker chick”, now one my main outfits was literally stolen from furry art I saw of Loona from Helluva Boss of her wearing a cute flannel, a sports bra, and distressed jean shorts 💀
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gravedigginbbydoll · 2 years ago
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pencil shavings and shared smiles {pt.1}
Fem! Teacher Reader x Teacher! Eddie
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Masterlist Next
AN: Heyo! So I was watching Abbott Elementary and got sad, so there’s that. Hopefully, this will be a multiple-part thing but do not expect regular updates. I am a busy gal, lol. Also not heavily edited!
WARNINGS AND CONTENT: Minors DNI!!!, Noncanon, Hawkins AU, Normal Hawkins, Rumors about Eddie, Eventual Smut, Very fluffy, Outcasts and Bullying, Mentions of Loneliness, Flirting, Fem!Reader, use of Y/N, older! Eddie, short-haired Eddie, 1995/1996 Hawkins, F! Reader has a dark past, angst.
Summary: The last thing anyone expected Eddie Munson to do once he graduated was to go off to get an Education degree. Now he’s approaching 30 and the coolest music and drama teacher in Hawkins. Enter you, a new teacher at Hawkins Middle School. You moved to the little sleepy town of Hawkins from the city, hoping to give kids joy in learning while also settling into a calmer town. You meet Eddie while moving your stuff into your classroom, and he piques your interest. But people talk, and you can’t help but wonder…Is he the monster they claim he is?
You walk through the doors, arms heavy with the large box full of posters and decor for your classroom. You walk briskly through empty hallways, cursing yourself for not asking the nice older woman working the front desk for some assistance. Finally, you turn one of the labyrinth hallways into what should be your hall. English. You sigh out of relief. For such a small town and school, you felt as though the hallways went on forever. You’re about to turn into your room when you hear rambunctious laughter and shouting from a nearby hallway. Your curiosity is peaked. It’s late in the summer. Most teachers are here to set up, but some are home, enjoying the days before the school year starts. 
You scurry to put your box haphazardly in your classroom, the only one devoid of posters and books. You then walk as quietly as you can in your heels, the soft clicking against the tile almost silent with all the excitement in the classroom. Finally, finally, you reach a point where you can peek into the door, seeing the back of a man dressed in a dark flannel, the sleeves rolled up so you can see the tattoos littering his skin and rings on his hands, his nails painted a chipped black. His hair is wild and wavy, cut shorter on the sides and longer on top. He speaks animatedly to a group of young kids, all of them seemingly 13 or 14. They look at him with stars in their eyes, and it tugs at your heartstrings. 
“So upon the last blow by Lady Eda,” He gestures to the petite girl to his left, her hair in colorfully beaded twists, her shy grin with a mouthful of rainbow braces. The rest of the kids sit on the edge of their seats, awaiting the following words. “The mighty and powerful dark wizard is laid to rest!” The kids erupt in joy, shouting and jumping out of their chairs, a few members hugging the petite girl you assumed was ‘Lady Eda.’ The mysterious man clears his throat again, and the kids rush to their chairs and sit intently. “You are cheered on by the crowd of townspeople, all leading you to the tavern, where you sing and dance the night away. The town is now free of his evil. Congrats, heroes.” He speaks warmly in his raspy tone, the kids in front of him beaming and seeming to burst with joy. “And with that-” He puts down a folder and folds up some journals, “We finish the campaign.” He gets up, showing you the distressed and torn jeans and combat boots on his lower half. “Now get out of here, twerps. I’ll see you with the new fish soon. You can show them the ropes.” The excited chatter continues; the kids grab their bags and stuff their things in them. They all hurriedly leave the classroom, finally noticing you and seeming to tone their excitement, nodding a ‘hello ma’am’ to you, except for ‘Lady Eda.’ She sticks behind, enveloping the man in a tight hug as he chuckles and hugs her back, leaning down and gently telling her to enjoy the rest of her summer. She nods excitedly, running out the doors after her friends, barely noticing you. 
You peer out of the shadows, knocking on the door frame, seeing the man gather up his stuff and mutter at a volume so low you almost miss it, “Fucking Doyle.”
You furrow your brows and smile a bit, amused by the mystery of this man and his evident hatred for a teacher you knew was in your hallway. “I’m no Doyle, but it’s nice to get a feel for who I should avoid,” you joke, your tone light. 
The mystery man attempts to stand up quickly from his bent position of picking up things, hitting his head on the edge of a desk, “Oh- I- Shit!” 
You fight a smile, biting your lip at this man who’s quite a character. You expected mostly bored housewives and businessmen in Hawkins, but it was shaping up to shock you quite a bit. 
He carefully got up this time, holding a hand against his head and spinning on his heel. His big brown doe eyes and a slight smattering of freckles make your heart jump a bit. He had smile lines and a shy smile, his facial hair short and scruffy. You feel your cheeks heat. Fuck. You didn’t expect a young man around your age who was so damn attractive at Hawkins Middle School, of all places. 
His face broke out into a shy crooked grin as he walked towards you, a hand held out towards you. “Hi. I’m Eddie Munson. You can just call me Eddie. I teach music and drama. I also run the DnD club here- that’s what the kiddos were doing here.” 
You shake his hand gently, feeling the calloused fingertips against your palms. “Hi. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. You can call me Y/N. I’m teaching English. I’m down that way,” you point back towards your hallway. 
He nods, smiling, removing his hand from yours gently. “Well, nice to see someone younger than the dinosaurs in that hallway.” 
You snort, feeling heat creep across your skin immediately and covering your mouth. “Sorry- Is it really that bad?” 
He nods, and his face molds into a false sorrow and pity expression. “I heard that Mrs. Winnow was around at the birth of Christ.” 
You snort again, another laugh bursting as you smile at Eddie. “You’d think with that kind of life, she’d be teaching history, wouldn’t you?” 
Eddie grins devilishly, shaking his head. “Nah, she’d immediately make all the other teachers obsolete. They need their jobs.” 
You grin, your heart pattering with joy at the young coworker. You were glad to find someone in a similar age range. So far, you only met your neighbors in your rundown apartment, who were around 40, and a few coworkers, who were above 50. 
Eddie cocks his head at you, leaning against the doorway, his arms crossing his chest, covering his distressed Metallica concert shirt. “So, you’re new to Hawkins, huh?”
You laugh humorlessly, sighing, looking up at him. “That obvious, huh?”
He smiles softly, an expression reading I’m sorry. “Eh, most of us grew up here. It’s not a town that people are really flocking to. So what brings you here?”
You fiddle with a loose thread on your blouse, biting your lip. You don’t want to say too much, so you shrug and smile. “I wanted some change from the big city. So I closed my eyes, spun around, and pointed at a map. Lo and behold, fate decided Hawkins.” 
He nods and still has a crooked smile as he turns, grabbing up his messenger bag full of items you assumed he used for the campaign. “Well, let me know if you want to meet some living humans, not fossils. I have a few friends here, and none are quite at retirement age yet.” He grabs a piece of paper he had about, jotting on it quickly, then handing you the parchment, smiling. “My number. In case you want to take me up on the offer.” 
You pocket the number, looking up to thank him. You look up, and his back is turned toward you as he exits the school, lifting his hand and waving while calling over his shoulder, “Bye, city girl! Good luck with the fossils.” 
You fight a smile as you walk back to your classroom, your fingers brushing the parchment in your pants pocket. 
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Once you set up your classroom, sweat dripping down your forehead, you realize you have no books for your bookshelf. You frown, biting your lip. The classroom looked terrific, with posters for books you felt were classics and a few inspirational ones. With soft lamps and lights along with the desks arranged, you should be satisfied. You curse yourself, knowing a teacher’s salary is not enough to splurge on books, but you can’t help but hate how only the textbooks are on the shelf. You head out of the school, determined to get more leisure reading books for your future students. 
You head to a local bookstore, fondly named ‘Hit the Books.’ An older man with small glasses is behind the counter explaining to a very disinterested edgy teen how to use the register. You look at the expansive store, surprised how it could stay open in such a small town with so few customers. Next, you head over to the Young Adult and Children’s section. You grab a few books, holding them in your arms as you walk from aisle to aisle. Eventually, your stacked up to your chin with books, struggling to hold them. You hear a chuckle behind you and cautiously turn, waddling like a penguin to avoid spilling novels everywhere. 
There stands Eddie, his grin clear as day. He’s missing his flannel, now just in a short sleeve, his tattoos in full view and adding to his grungy look. “You need help? It seems like you’re carrying a library there.” 
You feel heat travel across your skin and shake your head, backing up a little, “I got it-” You almost trip, Eddie catching you by your shoulder, and his eyes twinkle with amusement. 
“I think I’ll help anyway,” He grabs half of the stack of books, his own at the bottom. You spot ‘Merlin’s Woods,’ a book you recognized as one that had been among the fantasy books for teens and children. You fight a bit of a smile at this, Eddie helping you to the register. The young teen girl lights up at his appearance, her thick black eyeliner exaggerated by her wide blue eyes. The older man, however, looks on in a bit of disdain, making you frown slightly.  
“Mr. Munson! How’s it going?” The young girl asks, clearly more alert than before, ringing up your books along with Eddie’s. You’re about to interrupt her and let her know you’ll pay for your own when Eddie squeezes your hand without looking at you, smiling and catching up with the girl. Eddie then looks at you after paying, a smile on his lips. 
“Do you need help lugging out this library to the car-”
The older man, still gruffly bothered by Eddie’s presence, shoves a box in the young girl’s arms and hands Eddie his book. “Don’t worry, Mr. Munson; Julia can handle it.”
The young teen Julia looks at the older man in protest, her brows furrowed. “Mr. Munn, I’m supposed to work the -” 
He cuts her off, holding up a hand. “Shush. Go help the missus with her books.” 
She groans, mumbling as she stacks the books in the box. You look to Eddie, his smile faltering as he looks at you, holding his book. Something tells you the bookstore worker does not like Eddie. Something else tells you that Eddie knows. You open your mouth to say something before Eddie clears his throat, glancing at Mr. Munn. 
“I guess I better head out. I’ll see you around,” He says softly, smiling at you gently before turning and quickly jogging to a motorbike outside. You watch him sling a leg over the bike and drive away, feeling a twinge of hurt and sadness. It may not have been your fault, but you couldn’t help but feel for Eddie. 
“Careful with who you surround yourself, Miss. That Munson boy is trouble. He may have straightened out a bit since heading to college, but he is still a bit delinquent. Be careful,” The old man gruffly tells you, pointed looking at you over his glasses. “You look like a nice girl.” You feel your skin prickle with disdain and heat travel from the back of your neck across your chest. Nice girl. You hate that phrase. It meant docile. Obedient. You ignored the older man’s stare, turning towards Julia. 
“C’mon, my car is out here.” You lead the young disgruntled teen toward your modest, rundown car, opening the trunk. She huffs as she places the box in the back, clearly heavy for her small frame. You close the trunk and turn towards her, about to utter a thank you, when she stares hard at the floor and kicks a small pebble before sighing. 
“Mr. Munson isn’t a bad guy. Just so you know,” she softly says, looking up at you, her big eyes full of sincerity. 
You nod and smile softly, “I figured. But do you mind me asking why Mr. Munn is so set against him?” You tilt your head at her, and she huffs out a breath, annoyance at the older man clear across her face. 
“Some dumb old rumors the geezer still believes from the ’80s. Mr. Munson was the town’s troublemaker and outcast. There are a lot of crazy rumors about him. I don’t think they’re true, but he never tries to disprove them. He came back to help outcasts feel safe at school. Give them a teacher to trust,” The young girl’s voice is thick with emotion, and you can picture she was one of the outcasts Eddie helped. It pulls at your heartstrings. 
“Well, thank you, Julia. I appreciate your help. And don’t worry, I won’t listen to the rumors,” You playfully wink at the girl as she weakly smiles and waves goodbye before retreating into the small shop. 
You climb into your car, starting up the engine as you bite your lip and wonder… 
Who really is Eddie Munson?
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gumnut-logic · 5 months ago
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Scott had blood on his hands.
It wasn’t a new thing. It happened far too often to really be anything out of the ordinary. But it was different when it was his brothers’.
Oh, so different.
Technically, his hands were clean. After all, between his uniform gloves and the first aid gloves, his skin was sanitary.
But it wasn���t.
He could feel it.
Virgil woke the moment his ‘bird’s engines flared up. It was almost predictable. It was actually a good thing. But he hadn’t been coherent, stuck in the moment he last remembered. Gordon was his entire concern and it took every reassuring word and action Scott could think of to calm his brother down.
And behind him, Gordon had slipped into unconsciousness.
Fortunately, the trip was ever so short and within minutes they were on the ground again.
Virgil was still fretting. Scott had to strap his head down to prevent him from moving it, but his brother wasn’t aware enough to realise why.
His distress broke Scott’s heart.
Gordon’s silence just scared him.
But now they were both in expert medical hands. The fact Scott knew the doctor on duty was both a reassuring and ridiculous thing.
But now, alone in the waiting room, he only had himself for company and the images and the beating of his overtaxed heart thudding in his ears.
There were a multitude of things he should be doing - checking in with the GDF, following up on the danger zone, checking in with John, Grandma...Alan.
But for one moment, just one, he let himself sit down on one of those blasted plastic waiting room chairs he hated, and dropped his head into his hands.
It was far from the exemplary conduct of the Commander of International Rescue. His uniform grated against his skin, but he needed to clear his head, calm the panic and reset to face it all again.
A gentle hand on his shoulder startled him enough to gasp.
Familiar and kind aquamarine eyes caught his as John crouched down beside him. “Hey.”
Scott let out a breath. “Hey.” He straightened and sat back in the chair giving himself space. “They’re going to be okay.”
Voice soft. “I know.” John unfolded again and sat in the chair next to him. “How about you?”
“Me? I’m not injured.”
“No. But it hurts anyway.”
Scott’s lips thinned, but he didn’t answer that. There was no purpose in answering. It was acknowledged, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Instead, he pushed off from the chair and threw himself to his feet.
He had things to do.
That hand caught his arm. “Scott, wait.”
He turned to watch John stand up and face him. Quiet and calm. “Stay. Eos is managing the rescue. Aunt Val is managing the GDF component. Grandma is on her way.”
Scott looked down at the floor a moment. He needed to be doing something. Virgil’s cries were still bouncing back and forth in his head and Gordon’s silence was echoing. Blood and metal and mud.
But most of all it was the senselessness. He was willing to give his life to save others. He knew his brothers felt the same.
But this?
No one was saved. It was a random fluke of nature. A mindless tornado that could have taken everything as easily as it took the lives of the people they were trying to help.
And no one had been rescued.
His brothers hadn’t even had a chance to start.
It reminded him of an equally mindless avalanche, oh, so long ago.
The blood was sticky on his hands.
“Why don’t you get cleaned up?” John’s voice was soft as always, calm as always. This was why he was the Thunderbird he was. Why Thunderbird Five worked as well as she did. His brother was his ‘bird.
John’s hand shifted from Scott’s arm to wrap around his shoulders. Hell, the man was still getting taller. Scott wasn’t used to looking a brother directly in the eye and god forbid he have to look up.
He was the eldest, after all. It was fit he be the tallest.
“C’mon, I’ll keep you company.”
And before Scott could protest, John herded him out to Thunderbird Two and her ample bathroom facilities. A shower and his mud and blood-spattered uniform was replaced with a red flannel shirt and a pair of jeans both too big and too short at the same time.
He had Virgil poking him for not restocking his spare clothes since London three days ago.
He idly wondered if the rest of his brothers sported a Virgil voice in the back of their heads.
Scott knew that his, at least, never neglected a smart-assed word at any appropriate moment.
Today he almost welcomed them.
But the shower and the fresh clothes helped clear his head and slow his thudding heart. It didn’t clean the blood off his hands and he still had the urge to scratch them raw. He curled his hands into fists.
Returning to the cockpit he was confronted by the missing hover stretchers, but worse was the hologram playing in front of John.
Obviously, Two’s external camera, he watched as nothing other than a combine harvester attempted to kill his brothers. John played with the controls, flipping the scene back and forth obviously attempting to ascertain exactly how his brothers were injured.
But Scott’s eyes just latched onto that massive airborne machine. A killing machine that tried to take his brothers.
Holographic pixels measured out how close.
Ever so close.
“Shut it off.” His voice was sharp and cold.
John jumped as if caught with his hands in the till and the hologram vanished. “Sorry.”
Scott bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m going back to the hospital.” He didn’t bother to wait for an answer. He just lowered himself through the hatch and strode ever so fast back into the building that held his injured brothers.
-o-o-o-
Two Birds with one Stone
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carlsangel · 4 months ago
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MATCH UP #7
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@twdtina , your match is carl grimes!
✦ i feel like carl would be very affectionate and traditional with you, i think he’d do a lot for you just to be a gentleman. if you were going on a run with others he’d like open the backseat car door for you and sweet stuff like that.
✦ he would loveeeee to have you wear his flannels. he has a favorite one he likes for you to wear, it’s that white and grey one and although it’s not the most flattering colors you’re still able to pull it off well and he likes to see you in it.
✦ he obviously reads comics but whenever he sees you reading a book it gets him intrigued so he’ll lay on the couch and have you lay against him so he can read with you. a lot of the time he doesn’t care the kind of book he just likes reading and being in your presence.
✦ he likes your energy and i know this sounds weird but he thinks it’s a perfect energy to surround judith with. he feels like you’re quite bubbly when you’re comfy and that’s something that he wants judith to grow up with, so often when he’s babysitting he has you come over so you can babysit with him.
─── ⋆⋅ 𐚁 ⋅⋆ ───
it was morning, you spent a couple hours with olivia just reorganizing the entire pantry, making a new system to organize by. it was long and quite dreadful but it was something off alexandria’s list. anyway, carl had asked you to come over to keep him company while he babysat.
you made your way over and before you could even enter, you could hear judith screaming. you enter and carls distressed as well, trying to figure out what could possibly be bothering her, i mean he’d tried everything. he saw you walk through the door and he felt a tad relieved, a small smile formed on his face.
“hey…i’m sorry you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, i know you probably had a long morning.” lucky for carl, judith quite liked your presence. you walk over and take her in your arms and she cried for a moment more before quieting down. she almost fell asleep in your arms, probably drained from all the tears. you take her to her room and put her down, she’s a good napper so she’ll be out for hours.
so, you and carl take that as an opportunity to take a nap on the couch as well. you head back downstairs, grabbing the baby monitor from the kitchen counter before cuddling up on the couch.
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msg from rina: i hope u like it tina! :P
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fayes-fics · 2 years ago
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Moments: The Birth of Baby Isobel
Moments Masterpost
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: Benedict insists on being present at the birth of his second baby, having missed the first.
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Warnings: none really.... fluffy fluff. Intentionally vague/not graphic descriptions of the horror that is childbirth.
Word Count: 1.8k
Authors Note: For me, this is tooth-rottingly fluffy lol. Just a lil gift for @iboopedyournose who wanted more Moments with Benedict holding his babies. Thanks to @makaylan for the read through and @margowritesthings for the Moments moodboard above.
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“Mr Bridgerton!” the doctor exclaims, “we have this in hand. Please wait outside; we will call you in when your baby is born.”
“I’m okay, darling honest,” you assure your frazzled-looking husband. “The doctor is here; I will be fine.”
“But I don’t want to leave the room,” Benedict answers, almost frantic. “I can’t miss this!! I want to be here! I couldn’t for James. I have to for this one, my love; please don’t send me away!” He looks genuinely distressed.
You hold his hand and look at the doctor. “Doctor Samuels, if he promises to stay up by my shoulder with me, can my husband stay?”
“If he does not get in my way. Fine,” the doctor sighs, “but why he would want to is beyond me. No husband normally stays in the room.”
“Well, I am not a normal husband,” Benedict clips, not looking at him, and you squeeze his hand to calm his irritation.
“Stay here with me, darling. I need you to help me breathe,” you request, but at this moment, it’s as much for him as it is for you—anything to keep him from becoming a ball of anxiety.
“In two, three, out two, three,” you talk him through deep breaths, and the pulse hammering in his neck seems to slow as he breathes with you.
Then another contraction hits you, stronger than the last, and you grasp his hand tight and groan loudly, panting out breaths. It’s his turn to talk you through it.
“You’re doing wonderful, darling,” Benedict assures, taking a damp flannel offered by a midwife and wiping your brow.
“Push Mrs Bridgerton,” the doctor orders, and you do. Yelling and pushing with all your might. The pressure and pain are intense. You only have vague memories of this moment with James. You don’t remember it being this bad, but you suspect the mind may deliberately make you forget after it is over, or else no one would ever want another child, based on what you feel in this very moment.
“It hurts Benedict!” you wail, squeezing his hand so tight you swear you might break his knuckles.
“I’m sorry, my love,” he soothes, “it will be over soon then; just think, we will have another perfect little baby.”
“No more after this one!” you bemoan, puffing hard breaths.
“Yes, of course, darling,” he placates.
You scream again as another wave of pain hits you, doubling over, sweating and yelling.
You feel Benedict's strong arm wrap around your shoulders and him talking into your damp hair, encouraging loving words. Which, on the one hand, you know is incredibly sweet of him—no husband you know of has sat with his wife in the final throes of childbirth. But, on the other hand, you can’t deny that at this very moment, you sort of want to murder him for doing this to you.
After another round of dizzying pain, yelling, and crying, you hear the doctor announce they can see the head. Then it’s a frenzy of movement around you in quick succession. The passage of time seems elastic; it could have been minutes or hours; you honestly have no idea. With so much effort, your body feels like it is turning inside out, and a pain that is searing and life-altering, you eventually hear a lusty infant cry, and you flop back against the pillows as Benedict keeps talking sweet words.
“It’s a girl!” the doctor announces after a short pause, snipping the umbilical cord. “A healthy baby girl, all fingers and toes are here.”
“Let me see!” Benedict turns, looking away from you for the first time since your intense stage of labour started.
“The midwives are just swaddling her, Mr Bridgerton,” the doctor replies, “then she will be handed to your wife.”
“Benedict,” you croak exhausted, flopping your head over to look at him hazily, “thank you for staying with me.”
He turns back to you and wipes your brow, and kisses your no-doubt-drenched forehead. “No, thank YOU. I can’t believe it; it’s finally happened. We have another baby! And I got to be here,” he seems to radiate relief and joy but also disbelieving, almost overwhelmed.
“Here you go, Mrs Bridgerton,” one of the midwives fluffs your supporting pillows as the other hands you your precious bundle of joy.
You look down and see your own face looking back at you. It’s almost disconcerting—your nose, your eyes, your complexion, your hair colour.
“Oh my god, she is so beautiful,” Benedict gasps, peering over.
“She is me,” you utter, still shocked. “Benedict, this is so strange,” you whisper. “I’ve only ever had babies that look like you….”
He laughs heartily at your unintentionally hilarious line. The idea you could have a child that didn’t look exactly like him is somehow an impossibility in your mind. He wraps his arm tight around your shoulders, pulling you and your daughter into an embrace and kissing your sweaty temple.
“Well, I am very happy our daughter looks like you, not me, a man,” he chuckles, and you giggle. “But darling, she is so perfect, thank you,” his voice wavering with emotion. You see in his eyes how this is so raw for him.
“Darling, you take her?” you offer, softly twisting towards him.
“Really?” His voice is full of wonderment.
“Yes, I have an afterbirth to deal with.”
“What is that?” he frowns.
“You don’t want to know,” you answer quickly. “Just take our baby daughter and spend some time with her.”
He reaches over and, as if she is the most fragile thing, takes her from your arms and cradles her expertly. As if he was born to do so.
“Hello, my darling, darling girl,” he whispers, his voice laden with emotion. “I’m your daddy, and I love you so much,” his voice cracks. You watch him place a featherlight kiss on her forehead as she twitches slightly.
“Mr Bridgerton, perhaps you could take a seat over here while we assist your wife?” the midwife offers, and he stands up and follows without taking his eyes off his daughter.
“What a wonderful husband you have,” the woman sighs as she returns to your side. “I’ve never seen one stay for the delivery, and I’ve delivered more babies than I’ve had hot dinners,” she jests lightly.
“He could not be there for our firstborn,” you explain, unsure why you are telling her this but doing so without detail. “He made a vow that he would be here for all the others.” As you speak, you watch him run a finger gently over the baby’s cheek mouthing something to her.
He stays in the room as they complete the birth process with you, but he never looks at anything that is happening. He only has eyes for his daughter. You can see the love radiating from him, and it causes a lump in your throat. So sad he could not do this with James but so pleased he can now.
Once the towels and sheets are removed, and you are tucked back into bed, the cleanup complete, they call Benedict over to you to feed your baby. He hands her over and watches in awe as the baby latches on instantly, and you feel the weird long-forgotten sensation of a baby suckling from your body.
“You are a miracle,” he whispers.
“She is,” you deflect.
“You both are,” he smiles, running a knuckle over her tuft of hair sticking outside the swaddling she is wrapped in.
After the doctors and midwives bid you goodbye, you both just stare down your little daughter as she feeds, heads together.
“We need a name for our little miracle,” you say quietly, watching as she falls asleep peacefully, snuggling against your breast.
“She looks so very much like you; I think we should pick a name from your family,” he suggests.
“Oh, my Scottish maternal grandmother was called Isobel. I always thought that a most beautiful name.”
“Isobel is perfect, my love. Isobel Bridgerton, what a beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he smiles, kissing you both.
“Hello, Isobel,” you whisper to your daughter, and you swear you see the twitch of a smile in her slumber, even though you know that’s not really possible yet.
“So… are you going tell James he was right about having a baby sister, or shall I?” Benedict chuckles.
You giggle quietly. “You know he will be insufferably smug about that. He was so certain at that family Christmas dinner,” you shake your head at the fond memory.
“I could check if he is awake?” Benedict offers.
“Alright, but please hurry back, love.” You squeeze his hand as he stands up, not wanting to be alone just yet, but wanting him to be the one to break the news to James.
“I don’t want to be apart from either of you for more than a few blinks,” he admits to the same sentiment, “but I will to fetch my son.”
You softly kiss your baby's forehead and whisper gentle words, and soon you hear little footsteps running down the corridor.
“James, my love,” you say quietly as he almost skids into the room, “come and meet your sister.”
“Hello, Izzy,” he smiles brightly.
Izzy? Why does that name sound so familiar on his lips? You think to yourself.
You assume Benedict must have told James her name, and you beckon him up as he clambers onto the bed for a closer look.
Benedict follows behind him, and soon, the four of you are snuggled in the bed together. Within a few moments of his initial excitement waning, James falls back asleep leaning on your shoulder, it is late for him, being around 10 pm, and you don’t have the heart to move him.
“Thank you for telling James her name. He already thought of a sweet nickname before he walked in,” you chuckle, watching Benedict pat your son's hair affectionately as he sleeps between you.
“I didn’t,” Benedict frowns, “I assumed you had told him?”
You are momentarily taken aback.
“Oh… I suppose I must have,” you say, mildly puzzled. You don’t recall doing so, but it’s been quite an eventful few hours. Anything is possible.
“I can’t stop looking at her. I can’t believe she’s finally here,” Benedict confesses dotingly, curling around James and resting his head on your shoulder. “It’s like yet another little piece of my heart lives outside my body, and it’s terrifying and beautiful,” he admits quietly with one of his hands holding James.
He tilts his head to look up at you with soft eyes, and you already know that if he asked for another baby tomorrow, you would let him, even as your body aches so hard from this one. Dear god, you are so in love with him, it’s almost frightening.
“I love you, Benedict,” you murmur, and he looks wonder-filled. He is almost always the first to declare his emotions at any given moment.
“I love you too,” he responded instantly, surging up and brushing a delicate kiss on your lips. He shuffles so you are leaning against him, James still slumbering peacefully between you. He somehow manages to wrap all three of you in his wide-armed embrace, and that’s how exhaustion claims you, you holding Isobel in your arms, you and James in his.
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Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld
Moments only taglist: @queenofshinigamis @khaleesjj @starslibrary @magical-spit @honeylovemoon @justwant2read8421
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