#WHY can i SEE out of the RANDOM THRIFT STORE GLASSES
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Still losing it over the fact a random pair of 80s glasses from the thrift store are my exact prescription
#HELLO???#i mentioned it on my sideblog earlier but not here i dont think?#man.#what#lowkey they might actually be better than my current glasses??#WHAT are the chances of that#i dont think ill ever not be shocked about this. like hello#WHY can i SEE out of the RANDOM THRIFT STORE GLASSES#the right lenses are also thicker than the left lenses like mine are??#and i have like. idk what it is. some kinda blurry problem that discourages me from driving at night w/o a special thing on my lenses#.i put the thrift store glasses on at night to test and. it was. the exact same as my glasses w the special thing#still losing my absolute mind over this. why are the glasses my prescription#potato rambles n speaks#i dont know if theyre actually from the 80s but they are like. the style of it. if they really are decades old that'd be like.#itd be.#man. i cant think of words. just imagine waht im going through w this thought
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Title for you:
From Here Til Never
Ok this was tricky… I’ve been thinking and I’m going with amnesia fic. I’ve never done one of those!
Also adding a bit to the title I’ll remember you from here to never
Eddie is missing presumed dead, I think he’s away from LA when it happens, maybe visiting Texas. Buck gets the news and is obviously distraught, already looking after Chris so he just stays at Eddie’s, regretting lost opportunities etc.
Meanwhile Eddie is somewhere else, random small town type place. Don’t ask me how he actually got there. He can’t remember his own name but some things keep catching his attention it make him feel things.
We can have a lightning storm that upsets him, makes him feel like he’s lost something important
Conveniently for me there’s a church in town called St Christopher’s that he just goes and sits outside
He catches the end of an interview of a red headed reporter on a talk show talking about her book… and loathing her on sight
On a checkup at the hospital a girl with crutches walks past and he starts crying
There’s a picture of Scottish highlands with a stag on the wall in the house he’s staying at he and he can’t stop looking at it.
He picks up a carved stag in a thrift store and has to buy it. Keeps it by his bed. Likewise he sees a st Christopher medal and buys it, puts in on straight away.
Finds out he can draw/paint but his art keeps ending up in shades of blue for some reason.
He gets taken hunting by the people who took him in and stops someone shooting a young stag when asked why he can’t explain it
He’s also strangely competent with the guns but can hardly bear to touch them.
Anyways…l time goes in then one day someone comments on his obsession with stags (which has ended up with several pictures, ornaments of stags. Except they say
“That’s a lot of Buck’s ya got there.”
Buck?
Sure male deer, stag or a buck.
Buck?
The word makes him feel strange. A sense of loss and longing.
That night he dreams of blue eyes and blood on a face he doesn’t recognise
The night after he dreams of a boy who should be wearing glasses but isn’t. He looks for those glasses in his dream until a hand covered with blood gives him a small red pair
Then sitting in front of the church again the name and the boy without glasses become one and he knows his son’s name.
He has a son. And after that another name; Buck. Buckley. Blue eyes and a red mark over one eye. A smile and a feeling. The man from his dreams. His name is Buck. The two names are accompanied by the most desperate urge to get back to them. Chris and Buck. He wants to go home. He has a home, a family. Chris and Buck.
Some investing and discussions… brother? No not a brother, definitely not a brother. Husband? That word makes him ache and he knows that he’s not a husband. They look but nothing.
Then another name comes back his own and after that more and more until he has a destination and he leaves to find it.
Probably finds Bobby first so not to give Buck and Chris a fright! Then reunion and we get Eddie explaining his collection of stags to Buck (brought them with him, putting them on shelf carefully Buck asks why and Eddie explains.
I wanted to be close to something that reminded me of what I’d lost, who I’d loved. I expect you know stags can be called bucks too.
Even when I didn’t know my name I knew yours, knew you, because I love you. I knew that even when I didn’t know anything else.
And what’s Buck going to do after that than hold onto the second chance he’s been given and kiss the man that came back to him
🤷🏻♀️ that’s what I’ve got … hope you like the idea 💡 and thanks for the ask 💜💜💜
#eddie diaz#buddie#Buddie wip wip#title prompts#buddie fic#from here to never#evan buckley#spotty scribbles
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Safe Now
Sturniolos x y/n (technically its all of them but your dating Chris)
TW- Swearing, Panic Attack, Kissing, Alluding to potential danger, Anxiety (i think i got everything)
Summary- Your filming a video with the the triplets when something happens and they have to protct you
Me and the triplets piled into the van. Matt racing to the drivers seat before me I huffed opening the back door you better let me drive home Matthew, me and Matt always argued on who drove seeing as we were the only ones who could. Alright alright fine he agreed starting the car I sat next to Nick behind Chris and buckled my seatbelt, Chris already plugging the aux to his phone taking song requests? I asked leaning forward as far as the seat belt would allow me to resting my hand on his shoulder slightly rubbing it, as long as that request isnt a taylor swift song then yes he answered doja actually. I told him Nick perked up is it her new song? He asked, you know it I replied Chris shook his head sighing still searching it up regardless, I pulled away from his vibing with music "BITCH I SAID WHAT I SAID I RATHER BE FAMOUS INSTEAD" me and Nick both screamed the lyrics as Matt pulled out of the driveway even Chris swayed to the beat.
We headed off to the antique thrift store in town they had passed the other day while getting ice cream giving Chris the and idea for the upcoming Wednesday's vlog wanting to bring back the old thrift store challenge, ya know the one where you see you can thrift the best outfit in 15 minutes, they had invited me to be in the video which I glady said yes we had already filmed the intro explaining todays video at home deciding we'd film again when we got to the store. Once we arrived the moment the car was in park I jumped out out inspecting the old building, the whole front of the building made of glass come on hurry I motioned them to get out of the car quicker Chris joined me opening the door and jokingly bowed, why thank you kind sir I joked back walking through the entrance the inside was definitely very antique random objects scattered around.
We all walked to the clothing racks I grabbed my phone from my back pocket preparing to start filming Matt and Nick following suit aswell as deciding on who will get the camera and use there phone as a timer while Chris went to the front to ask if we were aloud to film we came to an agreement Matt would control the timer as Chris came jogging back pulling his phone out aswell, were good to film he told us great, Matt gets the camera if thats good with you Nick explained Chris nodded in reply Matt handed me the keys to the car since I'd be driving home before started the timer and we all began to film and go our separate ways,
I rushed to the womans section talking to the camera as I go ok so I'm going to try to go for like dress pants and a nice button up very formal very boss bitch I searched through the racks spotting a pair of light purple dress pants I checked the size to see it was a size to big, damn it it's a size to big i told the camera it's fine thats what's belts are for I shrugged it off heading for the shirts, skidding to a stop seeing a cream white belt grabbing it I hear Nicks protests behind me hey, I was gonna grab that he told me, sucker! I yelled jogging off laughing when I looked behind me at his annoyed expression I see Chris not to far away with red pants or shorts in hand couldn't really tell from here I got back to searching finding the perfect top almost immediately, Satisfied with my outfit I decided to check out the front of the store near the check out where I had saw a full body mirror that caught my eye. Sure enough I walked up to it loving the metal frame that went along the mirror the patterns were beautiful, only being 15 dollars I decided it was definitely worth it to buy, I picked up noticing it definitely had some weight to it I still hauled it to the front paying for my my clothes and mirror, Nick, clothes in hand came behind me. ooh nice mirror want any help getting it to the van? Nah im good to carry it thanks though alright then muscles, ill meet you in the car he told me, I sent him a smile putting the bag around my arm lifting the mirror off the ground and began walking off to the car
I had noticed a man riding a bike behing me assuming he would pass by but he slowed down yelling out to put the mirror down I looked fully behind me the man was old his bike seemed to be falling apart. oh no im good thank you though i gave him the best fake smile i could muster frightened by the stranger, he came to a full stop getting off his bike setting it to the gorund no no no he mumbled come on his voice trailing off I couldn't understand what he was saying I brought out the car keys my hands slightly shaking just wanting him to get on his bike and go away, I hit the button on the key opening the trunk only about two feet from the van he came closer to me my I looked around wishing i wasnt alone i made eye contact with Nick through the glass of the shop the moment he saw my frightened face he sped walked out the door to my side Whats happening he asked me um i was just i dont need help i fumbled over my words
thanks sir Nick deepened his voice standing staigher wrapping an arm around my waist but i can help her, you can leave he glared him down now, Nick finished the man lingered in silence for a moment his eyes trained on me making me cower further behind Nick before Chris and Matt came out the door aswell, Chris immediately noticing the situation began to jog over to me the man who had seen all three boys backed up quickly and grabbed his bike speeding off. My eyes brimmed with tears Matt took the mirror and my bag from me putting it in the car for me I leaned into Nick My breathing picked up pace he hugged me its ok now sweetheart
Nick let go allowing my boyfriend to wrap his arms around me im right here your safe we wont let anything happen to you your ok he told me Matt rubbed my back from behind joining in the hug which Nick joined aswell we all stood there group hugging me in the middle but i just felt suffocated a tear escaped my eye, Chris letting go once he felt the wet tear hit his arm Nick opened the shotgun door guiding me to sit down my legs dangled out the edge of the car I physically couldn't breath, air wouldnt hit my lungs making me panic way more awful thoughts circled my brain what would've happened if Nick didnt come out what if i was completely alone what would that man have done how was i meant to be alone anywhere again drowned in my own world my hands shook even more
Chris took my hands in his trying desperately to calm me down what do i do i dont know Matt help me out here he asked knowing his brother has struggled with this aswell before Matt pushed Chris to the side and he stood by Nicks side Nick rubbed his back for comfort Matt rubbed my arms crouching down hey y/n i need you to listen to me you need to breathe for me ok in and out, i tried i did i slowly drew a breath in and out but the more i tried the more my throat consticted and it scared me, i shook my head Matt noticed there wasnt much he himself could do and stood up. Alright kiss her he told Chris, what? he looked at Matt confused Nick shared the same expression i know how it sounds ok but she needs to breath to calm down and if she holds her breath it will help regulate it shes not in a state to hold her breath herself Chris catching onto what his brother was saying he quickly cupped my cheeks pressing his lips onto mine it indeed catch me by surprise my breath hitching, i kissed back tangling my hands in his hair he pulled away my breath still shaky but the air filled my lungs, Chris kept his forehead against mine, did you come back to me? I nodded glancing to Matt and Nick smiling at them both gratefully.
I love you I whispered to Chris I love you to, so much he responded grabbing my hand pulling me to the backseat with me I think I'll drive again Matt laughed slightly starting the car again hey at least i get the aux now Nick said but turned around looking at me your ok now though? He asked holding a hand out to me I grabbed his hand squeezing it, ya i am thank you all of you seriously Of course! They all replied completely in sinc OHHHH they all said agian we all burst out laughing I loved these boys with all my heart.
I love you so so much! Thank you for reading and always feel free to request
#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolos#sturniolo images#Chris sturniolo imagine
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I JUST WOKE MYSELF UP LAUGHING IM DYINF
I don't know what was going on but it was one of those dreams where I don't know if I AM Yuichi or if I as Luka is also there but it doesn't really matter jdjdh but like this happens a lot when I dream about characters I write/rp/play as
I think it started out where I there was like a little festival type thing around town(?) and everyone bought/made cloaks and stuff and so it was me/yuichi, a buuunch of toudans, and my friends from my d&d group ?? all just like hanging out or whatever, walking around town, I know at some point we went into a thrift store and bought a bunch of novelty stuff??
Idk it was fun.but then Nagasone had to go with Shirley (from Community) and some other people to a big meeting way up a mountain to ...?? idk, make a deal with some executives about the rights to a Scooby-Doo movie??? Idk, that's not important. What is important is that they did not come back down when they said they would so we got worried and went to go up the mountain after them ("we" I think is yuichi, my friend, and several toudans) . On our way up there was a loooot of snow and a bit of an avalanche that happened way up ahead of us, so we were panicked!! We got to where the avalanche happened (by this time we were also very cold and wet and tired) and we started digging around, looking for signs of anybody, frantic, but we didn't find anyone and we were being out in the freezing cold and snow for too long. But then I got a ping (I guess saniwa senses tingling) that Nagasone was a bit further up the mountain somewhere so I like ran and again started digging around, but eventually we made it up to the outer part of a lodge that was at the top (reminded me very much of the church in Saints Row (2022) lol) and I spotted him coming out of the building!!
I was like EEEAAGHHH WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN I WAS SCARED I THOUGHT MAYBE YOU GOT STUCK UNDER THE SNOWWW
and he was like NO IM PERFECTLY FINE I PROMISE! ME AND SHIRLEY JUST STRUCK THIS AMAZING DEAL EVERYTHING IS GREAT
And so we hung out at the place for a little bit but then...
Well I don't know if there was a timeskip or if the place just morphed or what. But suddenly we were at a big version of QuikTrip (my region's fave gas station lol) and this group of just... Random people were holding everyone hostage. They made everyone sit at tables and they had really tiny little guns lol. I had gotten up to get an eclair so I got put at a separate table than Nagasone, and got sat with my friend, Higekiri, and Hizamaru. So I was at this table just holding my eclair while some person points the tiny gun at us, and I remember feeling like it was an act of defiance/intimidation every time I took a bite of the eclair and just stared at them LOL
And I specifically remember whispering to my friend "this is just like we do in d&d: we talk shit about the enemy and it makes them easier to defeat" and so we did.
We were like "why are your guns so small?" "why are you holding hostages in a quiktrip?" "why didn't you lock the doors?"
And then my friend asks "hey, can I see your gun?"
and they LET HER??? so she's like "oh wow--" and immediately points it back at them. And I reach into my cloak pocket and pull out my own teeny tiny gun, except when I pull the trigger the end of it extends diagonally up so the end of it hits the person's glasses with the tiniest of "tink"s. Turns out it's not a gun it's a weird novelty toy. But the person is like "oho, that's clever. It's a shock device". It's not, but I let them think it is LOL
but I guess Nagasone sees this happen and gets worried when some of the other criminals look concerned, so he starts talking to them about their plan and stuff and somehow HE ALSO MANAGES TO GET ONE OF THEIR GUNS???
And then Yamanbagiri and Chougi at another table are called up to ....?? Idk, prove themselves? Demonstrate something? Just do something cool with their swords?
So they get up...
Manba pulls out his sword like normal
But then Chougi has like. A plastic longsword. And I'm like oh my god. HES WEARING MY CLOAK. at some point we had switched cloaks for some reason. I realize I have his sword but I cant get up to give it to him
So he goes to pull something else out of the cloak (I think he's just hoping his katana will be there) and out comes another teeny tiny gun, which he "fires" but it's another one of these silly stupid extender guns. And he's getting frustrated so he tries again, and just pulls out a big fucking two-pronged candelabra that I had (for some godforsaken reason) bought at the thrift store earlier. And he just looks so mortified and I'm sitting at my table trying not to laugh because of how he's holding it and his expression
And so I woke up laughing too lol
Writing it out it really doesn't sound that funny but I PROMISE it was so fucking hilarious watching Chougi just keep pulling out random shit and me being like "oh my god" as I realize that it's all my fault HAHA he was so pissed jfjsjdj
#out of blades#i promise its sort of relevant to this blog askdjdj#i dont know if its as funny to anyone else msybe you just had to be there
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Like. Okay. There IS good advice from the minimalism side of the internet and it breaks down to:
"Own the things you own on purpose."
You don't have to hang onto stuff you don't like, even it if was a gift.
You don't have to hang onto stuff that's taking up space just because it might be useful someday (to an extent; even if you haven't used your claw hammer recently I don't think you should get rid of it, but maybe if you haven't pulled that mini food processor out of the cabinet in five years it can safely be donated).
Don't buy bullshit for the sake of buying bullshit.
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I'm going to make this an aside here; shopping can be a really fun leisure activity, I have plans to go thrifting with a friend next weekend and I'm really looking forward to it. But because I've known I'm going to do this, I've been avoiding any other kind of shopping for a while. I, personally, have had some weird problems shopping and impulsive shopping isn't good for me.
I'm not a compulsive shopper, I'm a thoughtless shopper. There was a period in college when I was working two jobs and going to school and living in the basement of a house that was thirty miles from school, ten miles from one job, and twenty miles from the other, and sometimes I'd run out of laundry and because laundromats were closed at midnight I'd buy clothes from the walmart clearance section because I didn't have anything else clean to wear to work. I ended up with a lot of ugly, bullshit clothes because I didn't do laundry frequently. I'll go into a thrift store sometimes and I'll see something and I won't think of where it's going to go, or if it will look good in my house, or if I might already have something similar, this thing is inexpensive and I like it and suddenly I have six water glasses that have a teal *film* on them that is flaking away instead of six water glasses I like and that take up room in the cabinet next to my six nice water glasses.
This is stressful for me, so I try to avoid it. The way I broke the habit of the clothes buying in college was to make a new year's resolution not to buy anything other than food for six months. It worked great, and permanently changed how I acquired things. I fell back into the habit of getting random shit because I needed a bunch of stuff for the house when we moved in (we owned zero lamps, we needed many lamps, then I over-bought lamps) and now I'm trying to get out of it.
But you know what sometimes it's good for your brain to go buy something shiny that you like just for the sake of having something shiny that you like. Sometimes getting a new sketchbook - even though you already have ten - can help you get excited enough about drawing to break you out of artist's block. Sometimes buying a new mug can help you stop thinking about the mug you left at your ex's place. Sometimes buying shit is good for you.
Like, there's that post about the person who bought fancy candles when they were homeless in order to have something to dream about. There's that post about the person who wants to be able to just buy a nice new mug, what buying a nice new mug would represent in terms of their relationship to themself and their space and their income. When I first moved to vegas after living with my abusive mother in law (before I had to move back) I bought myself a fiestaware pie plate in mulberry and I made myself so many pies. When i had to move back, I cried as I was wrapping that plate up and putting it into storage because it meant going back to the house where I couldn't be in the kitchen and couldn't be in the living room and had to be aware that there were always cameras on me when I wasn't in my bedroom or the bathroom. If you're wondering why I was so weird in 2021 part of it was Large Bastard's time in the hospital and part of it was living in a single room because going outside of that room meant dealing with her and her cameras. So the pie plate *MEANT* something, it wasn't just a pie plate. And unwrapping it when I got to this house was huge, and decorating this house because I haven't had a space of my own to decorate since 2004 has been huge.
So I'm not saying not to buy things because buying things is bad, I'm saying that buying things *intentionally* is less likely to end up causing problems with things like your finances and storage situation.
Buy things on purpose, basically, and if you find yourself buying stuff to make yourself happy all the time perhaps consider that the stuff isn't working and you need to take a second to figure out why.
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"Know where your shit is"
Having a landing zone when you get home is great. Having a place where you know your keys hang and where your wallet sits is great. Knowing where the vacuum cleaner and the drill is fucking rules.
The thing is, it's possible to do this while having a lot of shit and while having "cluttered" open storage that might be a great way of organizing for people with ADHD but might not fit a minimalist aesthetic.
"You are not your stuff"
It's okay if things break or if they get lost. It can cause problems, yes, and it can be stressful, but you'll be okay if all the stuff goes away.
(Though you are also not your lack of stuff; possessions are not personality and they are not memories and they are not a curse - it is useful to examine your relationship to the things you have trouble giving away as well as to examine your relationship to an uncluttered space).
I will not invest energy in yelling at the youtube video. Yelling at the youtube video is the mindkiller.
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𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒔
Steven Grant x Original Character
SUMMARY: Steven took out his girlfriend to shop for mugs. Fluff ensues.
PAIRINGS: Steven Grant x Female Original Character
WORD COUNT: 1320
WARNINGS: none
Description of OC: Valeria Galvez, Black and Hispanic, 178 cm.
“Val, lookit this one!”
Valeria puts down the red and gold mug she was inspecting down onto a table and glances at the one Steven points at.
Of course, another ancient Egyptian print mug. This one has Horus as the center of attention and random hieroglyphics plastered all over the black background. She had to admit this one was actually kinda cool.
“Tacky. Put it away.” She told him with an amused smirk. Still it impresses her how many different ancient Egyptian-esque mugs he could find. (It’s 8)
He chuckles as he puts it back in its place and continues browsing around. A low whistle can be heard from his side a few minutes later as he grabs another Anubis printed mug.
For context, yes, they’re mug shopping.
Surprise surprise, walking with both eyes glued to a new ancient Egyptian history book while holding a hot mug of coffee was not a good combination! The blap and crash can be heard all the way to the loo and Val didn’t even have the chance to check if her ass was wiped because she jumped so fast to see what happened. What happened was just as imagined.
Steven, the clumsy idiot, tripped and there she found him, face planted, glasses and book tossed aside, favorite mug in smithereens. And as a cherry on top, his fingers burnt. Might as well burnt his ears too as he listens to Val’s stern reprimands while she iced his reddening fingers.
“That was my favorite, actually.” He sulked, hair askew and face sullen.
“I know, you should've been more careful then.“ her tone was sharp, but said without any real anger in them. She blew on his burnt patches even though she knew the ice will do the job, so it’s just for good measure. Or maybe she just wants a good reason to hold and inspect the calluses on his pretty hand.
Steven was silent for a moment, (not so) sneakily admiring Val’s beautiful side profile and letting his thoughts settle on how gentle she’s handling his wound despite her harsh tone. A plan formed in his head. Finally, he piped up.
“What time do you get off tomorrow, love?”
“Hm? The usual shit, around 5-ish. Why?”
Thus a mug shopping (date) to take place the next day was proposed and accepted. He picked her up at the library after his shift as a museum gift shop-ist ended. Here they are now in a mug shop, located right beside the paperweight shop Steven frequents. It's not that big but it sells a hella bunch of mugs, as people expect from a shop that sells mugs.
Some sort of fuckin thrift store for mugs heh, Valeria chuckles to herself. He might actually have a knack for finding these types of places.
The shopping trip that was supposed to be an 8 minutes get and go, now becomes some sort of show and tell. Steven excitedly does both work with childlike jokes and glee. As a bonus content (he said) he explains who and which gods are displayed on each mugs he found and the baffling misinterpretation of them. How a single ceramic mug with Anubis art but the name “Ra” painted above it had insulted him beyond relief.
In her perusal, Val’s eyes land for a few seconds at a mug with a smiling hallmark teddy bear hugging a valentine heart. She mindlessly reaches for it, and frowns once she reads the cheesy inscription on the heart. She gagged when she realized it's part of a couples mug, and an identical one with a different colored smiley bear sits beside it. She puts it back with a look of utter disdain.
No shade for people who like those things, but couples stuff gives her the ick. Been there, done that.
Her relationship with Steven is out of the question. So don’t ask.
“Oh!” Steven’s exclamation caught her attention.
“Found one you like?” She walked towards him and leaned on a rack, staring at an old mug in his grasp.
He eyed the mug in wonder, eyebrows close knit, an expression usually reserved to when he’s deep in thought. “Yea, this little bugger caught my eye a bit. You see this?” He points at the art plastered on the mug, featuring an old man and a child surrounded by a green jungle, a promotional art that looks like something out of an adventure series aimed for kids. She nods.
“I don’t remember what series or movie this one is about, but I just think it’s ringing a bell. It's like my brain recognizes it but… it doesn’t at the same time.” He contemplates for a while as he stares at the mug, tongue in his cheek.
“Huh.” He concludes.
She eyed him, gears slowly turning in her head and decided to probe him a little further. “Maybe you watched one of the reruns back home? Or… a memory from your childhood?” She asked in a casual manner even though she knows damn well this is a thin line Marc warns and forbids her to cross.
Fuck Marc.
Unfortunately, (fortunately?) she didn’t get anything important out of him as he thoughtlessly answered, “Yeah, yeah, probably one of the two.” With his eyes still stuck on the mug, he hesitatingly puts it back on the rack with the other vintage mugs.
With his thoughts still distracted by the familiar mug, He checks his watch. “Oh deary me, I’m so sorry for keeping you here for so long, Valley. I’ll just get whichever looks nice and be done with it.”
“No. No, baby, you have to get a good one. You loved the damn mug as much as you love that new book you got yesterday, so you gotta at least get something as nice as that, yeah?” She turned and looked around again. Her hand started busy pulling out several mugs that look identical to the former favorite. None of them were approved by Steven. The sweet man did try his best to look like he liked them though, just to appease Val. It didn’t.
When all seems lost, Steven finally found something. He shyly tugs at the sleeve of her jacket to get her attention.
“What about this one?”
She peered into the chosen mug, it’s a soft shade of blue and has a smiling black cat looking to the right on it. With a white heart as an extra decoration.
It doesn’t have any similarities with the old one, size, color and all. So Val eyes him questioningly, what is this?
But then Steven grabs another one off the rack and shows it to her. A similar blue shade, but with a white cat looking to its left.
It's a couple’s mug. When combined, the cats on both mugs look like they’re kissing.
And it’s abso-fuckin-lutely cheesy.
She tilted her head back, snorted and laughed heartily once she put the two and two together. Can’t believe this is happening.
“Aww come on now. At least consider it? They look nice yea? Lookit them!” The man proudly bumped the two mugs showcasing the kissing cat. “Little lovebirds they are.” He gushed, seemingly smitten with the mugs. His dark eyes glimmering with hope as he waits for his beloved’s approval.
The things she’d do for this man.
She knew how down bad she was for Steven Grant right after she decided to put a spare toothbrush on his sink, but still, it surprises her from time to time.
She stepped forward to close their distance, pushed aside the ridiculous mugs, and leaned down to peck his dumb (often creased) forehead. Her dark red lipstick stain was visible once she pulled back. “Let’s go pay for this.” She didn’t give him a chance to pull out his wallet.
The mugs!
a/n it’s been a while since I post a fanfiction. So enjoy :)
#steven grant#steven grant x oc#steven grant x female original character#moon knight#steven grant fluff#domestic fluff#steven grant x fem!reader#marc spector
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JJK Characters x You on a date
notes : I tried including Gojo's love for Digimon since I also grew up watching Digimon and loving the anime with all of my heart, also because Gojo's seiyuu, both Japanese and English versions, voiced for characters in Digimon, so I wanna pay homage to the both of them. other than that, I also included my love for arts and history, something I tried to incorporate into my writing, just to make it like.. lilith's style, ya know?
extra notes : also I wrote megumi for Elli, just because haha.
warnings : slight cussing. not proofread lol. other than that, none. 100% fluff!
characters : gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara, nanami kento, itadori yuji.
Gojo Satoru - Arcades, vintage shops, especially collectors, especially Digimon, comic book/manga stores.
[Your name]! [Your name!]! Look, look! It's the Digimon Adventure V-Tamer 01 series! All 9 of them! Let's get in!"
"Ahh hold on. Towu! We're supposed to visit the cat cafe, you promised that you would go with me and take pictures with the cat hairband on! And I'm starving!"
You jokingly scowled at him, tapping your Doc Martens feet on the ground, arms folding.
"Fucking adorable. Let me see if I can tease her more, hah." A smirk soon appeared on this blue-eyed darling of yours.
"Let me get the manga and I promise, I'll go to this cat cafe with you, baby. Hm?"
"Oh alright."
"I love you, sweetheart. I know how much you wanted to go there but the manga. I- ahaaaa"
He started pouting as he kept pointing in the direction of the Digimon manga by the window. You quickly opened your camera, taking pictures of him sulking, emitting a soft giggle that actually made his heart squeezed with joy.
He presses his lips against your forehead, thumb circling your cheek, gently squishing them before opening the door, yanking you into the comic book store with him. You vowed to hide the comic books once he goes on a mission. After all, he made you wait a month before the two of you finally get to go to this cafe you always wanted to visit.
"Baby, I can read what you're thinking. Your face shows it too. Hehe. Watch me hide your panties."
Taking in a few gulps of air to deepen your breath, you opened your eyes, to meet the love of your life's own eyes, snickering at you, his large hands on the crown of your head before ruffling your already messy hair. There is no way you can stay mad at this man, as childish as he is, you know he loves you and deep down? He knows you love him too.
Itadori Yuji - Thrift stores, internet cafes to play online games with you, cinemas.
"Candy! [Your name] love! Don't! Make! Me! Ahhh cover up for me! I am gonna lose! I am gonna-"
He turns around to face you with soft eyes, his eyebrows slightly droopy before looking back at the computer, taking in the seconds in his head to register the fact that he lost in his mission with you in Inferno.
"Awww sorry babe. I mean.. you just started playing CSGO, so tell me, why- again- damn it- you wanna- AH. Damn it! Throw the fucking grenade! I mean why you wanna play this game, you need more practice- FUCK YOU."
Gentle chuckles were heard, emitted from his throat, his soft, peach toned lips landed on your cheek repeatedly as he rubbed soothing circles around your back.
"Breathe, bunny baby. You're so feisty whenever you start having online matches. Breathe. I love you, and I don't want you to get your blood pressure rising because of these dumbos, hm?"
Your lips curl into a faint and appreciative smile, nodding while your eyes are glued to the screen, ignoring the fading laughs and snickers from the people acknowledging your mini rage.
"I love you too. If I win, I'm getting us boba and chicken nuggets. So let me fight them, okie?"
"Yes ma'am!"
Megumi - Museums, art galleries, photo exhibitions, aesthetic cafes.
"Oh Gumi bear, look at that! That is the Raft of Medusa, it was done by Thèodore Géricault, he himself interviewed two survivors from the shipwreck."
He looks over your eyes that shine with excitement and pure happiness.
"Art"
Was what he thought every time he laid his sight onto you. God knows that he falls in love with you every single time he is blessed with your presence. Resting his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, inhaling the scent of mixed berries and wild roses, he swore he heard his heartbeat increasing every two seconds in a span of one minute.
"Oh really? What do you think this painting is all about?"
Glancing at him before returning to the painting, you puffed your cheeks, pressing your lips together with your index finger curled on your chin and your thumb under it.
"Lord, she is so cute whenever she does that. Can I kiss her? Should I? No wait, she's trying to tell me her own interpretation of this painting. To me. Oh wow. I'm gonna kiss her... later. I can't interrupt her." That is all he could think of. You. He is deeply, madly, beautifully in love with you.
"In my opinion, it tells me the ways of how men, or human beings, seek out in order to survive. When we are at the brink of desperation, insanity, happiness, greed, lust, desire, wrath, grief, don't we all do things unimaginable to help us go through the day? They even resolved to cannibalism. I think even I would commit to that if I was in an extremely dire situation."
You looked at him, a wide smile on your face, emitting a soft giggle that entered his right ear and stayed within the chambers of his mind. He closed the spaces between the both of you, sealing his lips onto yours, with the intention of making this very moment last a little longer heavy within his heart.
"Art."
Was what you thought of him.
Nanami Kento - Theatres, historical museums, fine dining restaurants.
You squealed, lightly clapping your hands as you ran to a block of marble, your foot tapping against the floor. He chuckles, hands in his pocket, taking fast strides towards you.
"Namnam! Look look! That's the Parthenon Sculptures! It was founded in hm... Athens, yes! If I am not mistaken, around 438 to 432 BC. These sculptures decorated the insides of the Parthenon, it is a temple located at the fortress of the Athenian Acropolis. It is said that this temple was built to appreciate and worship the Goddess Athena, she was the deity worship in Athens. Also, ah ah! Did you know that the word parthénos means "maiden", "girl" or ‘virgin"? And I-"
You look at him, your magnificent lover wearing a dark brown trench coat, with ecru brown trousers and a black turtleneck tucked in, his neck layered with white gold necklaces. Your hand unconsciously scratches your sideburns, giggling at the side of his stoic expression, eyes piercing yours beneath that yellow-green glasses he constantly has on his chiseled face.
"Oh... I am sorry... I didn't mean to bore you. I was just so excited because you know me! I love anything that is related to ancient greek history and mythology. I can't seem to get enough of it and it is absolut-
"I'm not bored, [your name]. I was just paying attention to every single word that pretty lips of yours uttered. It's magnificent that you knew all of this. It shows just how smart, curious, bright your mind and soul is. And darling?"
"Huh?"
"I am lucky to be blessed with someone like you. With Gojo constantly following me, there is no way I can read the books I bought for myself. However, having you around, breaking the ice with your random history tib bits, I feel like I am reading the pages, savouring each word, alphabet, sentence, thus expanding my quest and love for knowledge."
You looked down. Normally, you're not the type to tear up this easily but seeing how this man, this angel of a man, appreciates the little things you loved and adored, you can't help but let the waterworks out. You lifted your head up to meet his gaze, the tip of your nose slightly stuffy. You grabbed his arms, clinging onto him, the difference of height and size makes it sweet to the eyes of strangers surrounding you both.
"Oh Namnam. Thank you so much. This means the world to me. Shall we... go and see the best of Ramesses the Great? I've loads to tell you!"
Nobara - Shopping malls, ferry rides, beach dates, parks with cherry blossoms.
"Baby... tell me, have you ever seen anything as joyous as the ocean?"
You two stood by the seashore, fingers intertwined, your head resting on her shoulders, the sound of the seas splashing against the rocks and the warmth around your foot, it tingled but it feels good at the same time.
"I don't want this moment to end, [your name]."
"Why is that, pretty one?"
A faint sigh leaves her lips, you feeling her body loosen up.
"I just.. school is sort of stressful so my time spent with you liberates me from the pressure, fatigue, and image of curses embedded in my brain. Walking with you... through this airy womb of skies and clouds, don't you know it makes me happy?"
You leaned closer, pressing a soft peck on her cheeks, earning yourself a pair of scarlet cheeks with a gorgeous smile from the one next to you. You turned yourself to face her, hands on her shoulders, bringing her body closer to yours.
"Whenever and wherever you need me, I will be there. I might not be perfect, but I am gonna do my best to be the one you can always count on."
You pressed a kiss on her left cheek.
"I love you."
A kiss on her right cheek.
"I love you."
A kiss to the lips of the woman whom you shared your entire universe with.
"To the moon and back, I love you, Kugisaki Nobara."
The end.
tags : @tojisveryown @sookyshima @megumifushi @sixeyesgojo @sirthisisa-wendys @sasso-oda @fushigurocockslut @nkogneatho @kotarousgf @noritoshiikamo
#jujutsu sorcerer#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#yuji itadori#megumi fushiguro#nobara kugisaki#kento nanami#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#nanami x you#nanami fluff#yuji x y/n#nobara x y/n#megumi x y/n#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk x you#gojo headcanons#jujutsu kaisen x you#nanami headcanons#yuji headcanons#megumi headcanons#nobara headcanons
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If it means anything at all one of the shiftythrifting mods lives in my county and im pretty sure all those boxes of miscellania they sell are why I can't find anything funny/interesting/weird anywhere anymore
a) Move to the Pacific Northwest. Far as I know no mods of that page live in the PNW, surprisingly. Didi (the creator) remarked once or twice about how Washington and Oregon seem to be an epicenter of thrift weirdness, and as a lifelong resident... I'll agree, damn skippy it is! And so many thrifts to choose from in the metro areas. For the record, I am a huge fan of that blog and its crew, we get along even if this blog’s comments don’t show up in that blog’s notes, and I believe that there’s enough room for everyone to live/thrift together in harmony.
b) The statistical likelihood of one person (even if they have Junk Boxes to provide for) taking every wild thing away is pretty low unless you have a small number of thrifts available to browse. Try to find the offbeat places, the ma-n-pa places, the mindbending crap-from-floor-to-ceiling / how-does-this-get-past-the-fire-marshall places.
c) All I can say is get to the stores early and/or attempt to find the truly random junk places like Goodwill Outlet or storage locker buyers. (They are NOT like what you see on TV. A few years ago there were four locker-junk stores within 5 miles of me and 2-3 more operating yardsale-style out of their garages.) You will never leave with your hands or the SD card of your camera empty if you have such an uncapped fire hydrant of ridiculous randomness nearby. Wear gloves when going to the Outlet, yo; there’s plenty of dirt, grease, and broken glass hiding.
d) Do not give up! Ever! Funny and interesting and weird are really subjective and in the eyes of the beholder. I find what I find and post it here or to my thrift blog and people either like it or don't.
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Since Spamton has the anatomy of a puppet, he could get away with acting like a lifeless toy as a sort of hiding/disguising mechanism. But what would happen if someone found him and starts feeling and squeezing him?
Amber, bestie, this took a wild turn in my brain?? I don't know if this is what you expected, so hit me up if you wanted this to go a different direction lol.
ANYWAYS you find a weird doll in a thrift store, what happens next will shock you!!
Thrift shopping has always been one of your favorite ways to decompress. There was something about mindfully carding through an endless sea of clothing that allowed you to get lost for a couple hours, your mind focusing on the funky fabrics and outlandish outfits in front of you instead of drifting off to various unknowns and anxieties. It was much easier to focus on whether or not you’re willing to pay $5 for a sweater you’ll wear twice before donating again than to consider whether or not moving here was the right decision.
Either way, you found yourself skulking around any one of the local thrift stores at least two times a week. This particular trip happened to be your third in the past six days, which was as good an indicator as any of your mental state. The winter was always particularly rough for you, both mentally and physically, and moving to a new city ended up being more stressful than you had hoped. The lifeless cardigans in front of you weren’t sparking as much joy as they usually did, so you found yourself meandering to other sections of the store. Somehow you ended up rummaging around the toy section, feeling sentimental and nostalgic as you perused colorful shelves lined with Beanie Babies and Lego sets. One item stands out to you as particularly odd, even for a thrift store. A large doll of sorts, reminiscent of a ventriloquist dummy, lies strewn across a shelf all the way in the corner. It’s surrounded by a random assortment of other toys, including a bright red toy phone, a deck of cards, and a handful of Hot Wheels. Looking at it almost makes your stomach turn the same way looking out of a window at night makes your stomach tie itself in knots out of fear that someone would be looking back at you.
Yet, part of you is intrigued by the potentially haunted ventriloquist dummy. You feel your heart vibrate in your chest, its palpitations reverberating off of your ribcage, as you slowly step closer towards the doll. Before you can even process what’s happening, you watch your hand extend out in front of you to cup the doll’s face. Turning it towards you, you admire the attention to detail on the facial features. A cartoonish oversized nose, cute red cheeks, and an ever-present smile adorn the funny lil man on the shelf. You’re drawn to his dual tinted glasses, one lens pink and the other yellow, as they are a particularly unique choice. You can’t shake the feeling like you should know who (or what) this doll is, but you can’t quite place your finger on why. He just seems so familiar, like you’ve seen him before…but where?
Attempting to jog your memory, you lift him off of the shelf and find him surprisingly heavy and suspiciously warm. You reason that he might’ve just been put on the shelf, warm from being in a donation bag or in someone’s arms. The idea that someone once loved him, only to toss him, crosses your mind and nearly chokes you up.
Get a hold of yourself. Your mind has been particularly frazzled this week, so you try not to be too hard on yourself for having a streak of sentiment.
Turning him over in your hands, you decide to investigate to see if you can find proof to confirm your ‘ventriloquist’ theory and slide a hand under his distinguished black jacket. You’re surprised to make contact with another shirt, which seems to be neatly tucked into his pants. You prod around his back for a while, digging your fingers in to try and find a spot for a hand to fit. You find nothing of the sort, but nearly jump out of your skin when you hear a sound coming from the doll in your hands. This new information makes you think that he perhaps isn’t a ventriloquist dummy, and instead might be some sort of custom-made doll. Complete with a custom voice box, although from the sound of it the batteries must be running low. You flip him back over and decide to test your new theory by pressing a finger into the middle of his stomach, resulting in another strange sound. You still couldn’t determine any distinct words, which was odd. If someone put a custom voice box into a doll, then surely it had to have specific dialogue. Maybe I’m not pressing hard enough? You reason, figuring that press both thumbs into the middle of the doll.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for what happened next.
Pressing into his stomach caused his limbs to flail wildly for a moment, accompanied once again by the indistinguishable sound.
What kind of doll talks, moves, and is this size??
This prompts the need for further investigation. You search him for a price tag, finding a small $4.99 label tied to his wrist. Your inner conscience begs you to reconsider, lest the cute cashier judge you for bringing home…whatever this was. Last week they complimented your selection of sweaters, and while you were hoping to woo them again with your choice finds, curiosity got the better of you. You avoided eye contact during the transaction and barely muttered out a have a good one before rushing out of the door and back to your apartment, with a funny little guy curled up in your arms.
***
Fortunately, you managed to return to your place without seeing any of your acquaintances out and about. As you place the thrift store find on your couch, you can’t help but wonder aloud what compelled you to bring him home in the first place. Grateful for the privacy your own home provides, you decide to start your head to toe investigation. Taking a seat next to him on the couch, you begin by lightly skimming your fingers through his hair. So incredibly soft, you mutter to yourself, and out of the corner of your eye you swear you see the doll’s painted cheeks turn a shade darker. Shifting your attention to his face, you cup it in both of your hands and run your thumbs over the smooth plastic of his cheeks. You’re almost positive you see the area surrounding his painted marks flush a dark pink, and you furrow your eyebrows in thought.
“What kind of doll talks, moves, and blushes?” You ponder, letting your hands fall to his shoulders and giving them a soft squeeze before trailing them down his arms to inspect his hands. Cupping one of his hands in yours, you trace the outlines of the joints along his fingers and press your thumb softly into his palm. You thought there might be a button in his hands that would activate his voice box, but found you thought wrong. You settle your hands on either side of him and press, determined to hear his voice again and attempt to make out what he’s saying. Maybe his vocal track will help me determine what he is?
This time as you squeeze into his surprisingly soft midsection, you watch as his mouth opens to release a fit of giggles.
“Oh? Is this some sort of Cyber City Tickle-Me-Elmo?” Shocked, you press again to receive a similar reaction. Third time’s a charm, however, and on your third squeeze he squeaks and slides away from your touch, backing himself against the armrest of the couch and batting at your hands. You recoil with a scream, nearly falling off your couch as you back away from the moving doll in front of you.
“EASY WITH THE GOODS, [Hochi Mama].” His voice is now very clear except for a clip at the end that sounds forced, somehow. You are frozen in horror, a creeping realization settling in that the man in front of you might actually be just that- a man.
“W-what the fuck?” Is all you manage to stammer out as you watch the definitely a man stand from your couch and brush himself off. He shoots you an uneasy smile, his eyes hidden behind his dual tone glasses.
“I COULD ASK YOU THE SAME THING, [Dearest Customer].” He huffs, seemingly annoyed that you dared to question him. “YOU’RE THE ONE WITH THE [Hands On Experience], NOT ME.”
“What are you?” You feel stupid asking, but you can’t think of anything else to say.
“I’M THE [#1 Top Rated Salesman1997], YOUR OLD PAL SPAMTON G. SPAMTON.” He continues to smile at you in a way that makes your skin crawl, his words dripping with confidence as if they clarify anything and everything. You bury your face in your hands and groan. What do I do with a top rated salesman?
#did i call myself out in this one?#yes thrifting is one of my all time favorite activities#also y’all spamton is a horrifying creature and we have to acknowledge that#ik im thirsty af for him and ik hes so sexy but like#if i saw this in a thrift store id call 911#drabble requests#amber im sORRY#idk what HAPPENED#the zoni enthusiast
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forget me not
—he couldn’t remember what kind of coffee he liked but he still remembered how to be a gentleman, interesting.
pairing: bang chan x reader
genre: angst
warnings: brief mention of a car crash
words: 4.3k
a/n: i cried while writhing this so 👀👀 not proofread
you stepped out of your bedroom and fumbled for a light switch. between the sleepy haze and you not knowing the house yet, you’d never manage to find your way through it without light. you flicked the switch on and made your way down the hall and into your kitchen. everything was so neat and organized. knowing you, that order would be gone within a few days and would never return. you weren’t really one for organization.
you hissed as your bare feet hit the cold tile of the kitchen floor, cursing yourself for not having worn socks to bed.
you opened a few cupboards before leaning back against your table with a sigh. you just wanted a glass of water, but you were struggling to remember which cupboard you’d put all your cups in. your sigh was quickly followed by a yelp of surprise when someone spoke beside you. you lived alone.
“you put them here.” the voice said as he stepped forward and opened a cupboard you hadn’t checked, revealing the cups you’d neatly stacked on the shelf.
you didn’t reply until he grabbed one of the cups himself and went to your fridge to fill it up.
“what the hell are you doing?”
he turned around, holding the glass of water out for you to take. you just stared at it.
he sighed and sat the cup on the table beside you, “helping you get a drink.”
“no,” you backed away from him instinctively as he came closer, “why the fuck are you in my house?”
you tried to sound angry and intimidating, but you honestly couldn’t. you knew you should be shaking with fear, a random man was inside your house in the middle of the night and you did not invite him in. he was much bigger than you and he could easily overpower you, but all you felt was surprise and confusion. there was no fear. it must be the shock, you told yourself.
he shrugged, “you brought me here.”
you frowned, “i did not. i haven’t brought anyone here yet! i’ve lived her for a total of 1 day and half a night.”
he frowned and walked past you and into the living room right next to the kitchen. he flipped the light switch and made his way to the far end of your living room before picking up a small necklace you had sat on an end table.
you’d gotten it at the thrift store. you went there to find some cheap things to decorate your new home with and couldn’t resist the beautiful piece.
he held it up and you just frowned.
“i’m connected to it.”
he held the necklace and came back to meet you in the kitchen, making sure to shut the living room light off behind him. he held out his hand to you and you let him drop the piece of jewelry into your hand.
“what do you mean?”
he picked up the glass of water he had gotten for you and took a drink, “i’m dead.”
you laughed, “no, i’m serious. why are you in my house? i should call the police.”
he shrugged, “call them if you want to start yourself a bad reputation in this town. they won’t find anything when they get here.”
you shifted your feet and stared at him. it wouldn’t hurt to humor him a little, would it?
“you can’t be dead. ghosts can’t hold stuff.” you motioned to the cup or water in his hand.
“we can’t?” he raised an eyebrow, “where’d you hear that?”
you frowned, “it’s common knowledge. it says so on literally every paranormal tv show.”
he set the glass back down and waved a hand dismissively at you, “please, you believe that shit?”
the frown remained on your face as you nodded, “what other sources would i have?”
he smiled, “you’ve got me now.”
he could see the doubt still covering your face and he sighed.
“don’t believe me?” you shook your head and he never broke eye contact as all of the lights in your house went dark. the ones in the kitchen and the ones from the hallway, your house was pitch black.
you heard him chuckle as you let out a sound of surprise and fear and just as quickly as they were off, the lights came back on.
you stared at him for a minute as you tried to rationalize the events in your mind. it must have been coincidence. it was an old house, the salesman had told you you’d have to get some wiring redone. that was probably it.
“if,” you began, cursing yourself for stuttering, “if you can do that, why’d you use the light switch earlier?”
he frowned in confusion.
“when you went to get this,” you held the necklace up, “use turned the light switch on and off with your hand. why?”
he shrugged, “i don’t like using my powers a lot. sometimes it’s nice to feel like a normal person again.”
you nodded, still slightly skeptical. you hated yourself for thinking as you were, but most of you believed him. you didn’t know why, but every word that left his mouth felt honest.
“so, what? you’re like a genie in a bottle? whoever has your necklace has you?”
he nodded, “sort of. i can actually carry it myself if i want to, go wherever i wanna go, but i like letting it find it’s place naturally.” a smile crossed his features, “brings me to people like you.”
you nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“i’m stuck to wherever it is, but that’s not a big deal considering i can carry it myself.”
you nodded again, taking in the information. you crossed the kitchen and reached up to the drawer the boy had taken a cup out of earlier and grabbed your own, filling it with water and walking past him into the living room. he followed you, the full cup from before in his hand.
“why’d you get another glass?”
you shrugged as you sat down on the couch, leaving enough room for him to sit beside you.
“that ones yours.”
he spoke in a teasing tone, “i thought ghosts couldn’t drink.”
you rolled your eyes and to your surprise, a smile found its way onto your lips.
“so i’m stuck with you now?” you teased.
“no,” he teased back, “you could always give the necklace to someone else, but something tells me you’re going to keep it.”
it wouldn’t matter if you gave the necklace away anyway, he decided, he would just pick it up and find his way back to you.
“okay, ghost boy.” you reached your hand out to shake his, “what’s your name?”
you were shocked at how cold his hand felt in your own, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable cold. it was almost calming.
“chan.”
you woke up the next morning convinced meeting the strange boy was just a dream, but you were quickly reminded that it was not by his voice calling your name from the kitchen.
you jumped off your bed and hurried to get dressed to meet chan, who had spent the night on the couch despite having no actual need to sleep, in the kitchen.
to your pleasant surprise, he had already got to work at making the two of you some breakfast. you chucked at how easily he found things around your kitchen.
“it’s like you know where i put stuff better than i do.”
you surprised yourself with the friendly opening. you met him only a couple hours prior to that moment but you already found yourself being friendly with him. he was someone that was easy to be nice to. he was charming, even.
“i do.”
“what, is good memory a special ghost power?” you teased.
“no.” he shrugged, placing two plates on the table and motioning for you to sit down, “i’m just smarter than you.”
you glared at him as you took your seat but it didn’t last long. chan carried the hot pan from the stove and slid two perfectly done pancakes onto your plate. you moved to go to the fridge to grab syrup and butter, but he motioned for you to stay seated and retrieved the items himself.
day one and he was already proving to be a great roommate.
you ate silently by yourself for a few minutes before chan slipped into the seat across from you after putting his own food on his plate. despite you beginning before him, chan finished his food first. it was weird to you that he did things like ate and drank when he had no need to. from what you’d learned the night before, he doesn’t even have good tastebuds as a ghost, so it’s not like he could fully enjoy anything he eats. you understood his reason, though, of wanting to feel normal and alive.
the following few mornings, you woke up to the same thing. chan in the kitchen making whatever he was making for breakfast that morning. the days went the same too, talking or just watching movies and hanging out with chan. it was nice. you liked his company.
but alas, weekends end and you have school and work to go to when they do.
“can i come with?”
you chuckled, “chan, it’s a closed seminar. you’re only allowed in if you’re a student.”
he pouted, “would he even notice? you said your classes are huge.”
you threw on your coat and opened the door, “i don’t know.”
he followed behind you, shutting the door and locking it behind the two of you. you glanced at him in confusion, “i said no, chan.”
he shrugged, “i can still walk you there and wait for you until it’s done.” he smiled, pointing to the necklace around your neck, “plus, with than on you i kind of have to go wherever you do.”
you looked down at the jewel around your neck, chan had insisted you try it on the night before and you hadn’t taken it off.
you chose not to reply as you started your walk in the direction of your university.
it wasn’t a long walk, only a couple of minutes. you’d purposely chosen an apartment close to campus to avoid travel fees.
the trees and buildings you walked past virtually every day were so interesting to chan, though, that the walk took double the time due to his stopping and staring.
“it’s just a tree, chan.” you laughed.
“yeah,” he replied, “but i haven’t seen a cherry blossom tree in,” he paused, “i don’t really know how long.”
when you finally arrived, thankfully still on time, you tried to take the necklace off and hand it to chan so he could go home or explore some more instead of being stuck around your campus, but he refused.
“i like the way it looks on you.” he grinned, “i’ll be fine waiting here.”
you ignored the fluttery feeling in your stomach at his words and waved him goodbye as you entered the building. immediately, you were attacked by your friend with questions. apparently she’d seen you walk up with chan and you walking with a boy was headline news.
“when did you meet him?”
“last night.”
her eyes widened, “you only met last night and he’s already walking you to class?”
you nodded, deciding not to mention that he also lived with you. maybe you should have lied about how you met. you’d have to lie anyway, it’s not like you could tell everyone he was a ghost.
class went quickly and it wasn’t long before you were walking out of the school and scanning the yard for chan. you locked eyes with him just as he stood up from the bench he was on with a smile and began walking towards you. he spoke first.
“can we go to a cafe?”
“what?”
“i haven’t been out in public with someone in forever, please?” he begged, “i didn’t ever make myself known to the last like 4 people who had the necklace so i never got to do things like go to cafes or shops and interact.”
you smiled but your eyebrows furrowed, “you didn’t? why did you introduce yourself so quickly to me, then?”
he shrugged, he did that a lot, “i knew you’d be fun.”
fun? if he considered sitting inside and watching movies or sleeping all day as you usually did was fun, then he was in for a great. otherwise, he might be disappointed.
you nodded and started in the direction of your favorite coffee shop. it was a little further away than other places, but it was worth the walk. chan was less distracted this time, evidently he’d wondered and marveled at enough trees and skyscrapers to satisfy him while you were in class. instead, you held easy conversation the whole way. it still surprised you how easily words flowed when speaking to him. conversation wasn’t awkward and you never ran out of things to say or out of energy to listen to him talk.
you actually really liked listening to him talk. he had a nice voice.
you opened the door to the cafe and chan followed you inside and right up to the counter. there wasn’t a line, so it was your turn to order right away.
“hi,” you greeted the girl at the register, “can i have a caramel mocha please?”
she nodded and turned to chan, “and you?”
his eyes widened and he looked to you for help, “uhm, i don’t-“ he muttered the rest of the words, “i don’t know what i like.” before turning back to the register. “same as her, please.”
you payed and went to sit down and chan lightly shoved you for laughing at him.
“i got nervous. i didn’t have time to think and i don’t remember what i used to get.”
you laughed, “ghosts are supposed to be scary, not cute nervous wrecks.”
he pouted but didn’t have time to reply as the barista called your name to pick up the drinks. you went to stand to grab them, but chan was up and nearly at the counter before you could even fully stand.
he couldn’t remember what kind of coffee he liked but he still remembered how to be a gentleman, interesting.
you brought the cup to your lips as you watched him take a drink of his own, smiling when he hummed pleasantly at the taste. good thing you ordered something he liked for him to copy off of you.
weeks went by with you living with chan and it stopped feeling weird after a while and started feeling normal. you didn’t know if it was the move of houses or the boy in the house that made you feel safer here than your last home, but it was something.
you’d learned a lot about him in the time you’d spent together. you learned that he was from australia, which you could tell by his accent, and that he died in a car accident. he didn’t want to talk specifics, and you didn’t press it.
you also learned just how charming he was. only a few days into knowing him, he began flirting and making subtly hints towards you. you laughed it off, he was just a playful guy, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing every time he reached for your hand or called you baby.
you knew it was an issue for you to develop feelings for him, not only had you known him for so short of a time but he wasn’t even human. still, you couldn’t deny the butterflies that danced in your stomach when you heard his laugh.
sometimes you thought that maybe, just maybe, the way he acted meant he felt the butterflies too.
like the moments he pulled you close into his side while watching a movie.
“if you’re cold i can get more blankets.” you spoke up at him, face resting against his chest.
“i don’t get cold. i just wanted to hold you.”
or the first time he held your hand.
he was walking you to class as he always did and suddenly you felt his hand grab yours.
“it’s crowded and i don’t want to get lost.” he said, but you knew that was bogus. he would always know where you were so long as you had his necklace on.
still, you let him hold your hand the whole way to school and you continued to let him hold your hand on every walk and any other time he felt inclined to do so.
you were walking hand in hand back from your university when the problems first started.
some boy you didn’t recognize walked right up to you and chan, and you knew immediately that he was no good. you couldn’t pinpoint it, but something about him put you on edge.
that was the first time chan made you take off his necklace.
he turned to you as the man approached, “y/n, give me the necklace.”
you frowned, fingers flying up to fiddle with the jewel at the end, “what?”
“take it off and give it to me and go home. i’ll meet you there.”
you did as he said because between the uncomfortable feeling revolving around the man approaching you and the way chan had never used that tone with you made you panic and you really didn’t know what to do other than to listen to his words.
you unclipped the necklace and jogged home, and chan arrived not long after you. he took his place beside you on the couch and moved your hair aside so he could place the necklace back where it belonged.
“who was that?” you asked.
he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side, “doesn’t matter. what matters is you’re safe.”
he leaned down and placed a soft kiss to the top of your head and held you like that until morning.
the one time freaked you out enough, but it kept happening more and more. every single time, chan would say the same thing. “give me the necklace and go home.” and every time you obeyed because every time whoever was walking towards you two scared the shit out of you before they even got within 10 feet of you.
of course it scared you to leave chan alone, too, especially when they came in groups. you figured they had something to do with a ghost thing, why else would they know chan? because of this, you knew it was best to let him deal with it. and he always did, he dealt with it and met you home after a while and held you until you felt better. he always came home and made you feel safe.
until they started coming to your home, too.
you were sitting on your couch watching movies with chan as usual, but you weren’t paying attention. instead, you were focused on his laugh and the way just being around him made you happy.
he reached to you and his fingers grazed your collar bones as he held the gold chan in his hands. he slipped the necklace out from under your shirt so that it was sitting in plain sight before moving his hand to rest on your shoulder, holding you securely against him.
“don’t hide it. i like seeing it on you.”
you smiled up at him, you liked seeing it on yourself too. it reminded you of him.
the soft moment was cut short by a banging at your door. you stood to answer it, but chan grabbed your arm and pulled you to sit back down. he held his hand out and that plus the wave of anxiety that hit you let you know what was happening. you unclipped the necklace and placed it into his hand. he bent down and placed a kiss to your forehead before moving through the house to open the door.
you heard as he opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind him. for the first time, you could kind of hear the interaction between chan and the strange men. you couldn’t make out words, but you knew they were speaking, and it sounded like chan was angry.
that wasn’t what frightened you the most, though. what terrified you was when you heard a loud slam and someone cry out in pain. it wasn’t chan, you thought you’d recognize the voice if it was, but still.
that was all you had to hear before covering your ears tight with your hands and waiting for chan to come back wipe the tears away, to take the anxiety filling your stomach away and make you feel safe again.
it wasn’t long before chan was stepping back into the house and rushing over to you, cradling you in his arms.
“who are they, chan?” you managed to get out between whimpers.
he just held you tighter, “they’re nothing to worry about, i promise. i’ll keep you safe baby, always. no matter what i have to do, i’ll keep you safe.”
you felt his arms grab you as he picked you up and carried you to your bed, crawling in beside you. he hesitated as he secured the necklace back around your neck and let you bury your face in his chest until you fell asleep.
usually, chan would sleep too, just for the sake of sleeping next to you, but that night he didn’t even shut his eyes.
for the first time since chan had began sleeping in the same room as you, he was next to you when you woke up. usually he would be up and making breakfast, but he was still right next to you with his arm around you and his fingers playing with your hair.
“good morning.” you smiled at him.
he did his best to smile back, “good morning angel.”
he sat there for a moment admiring you before sitting up.
“get dressed.” he called to you, “i want to go somewhere.”
you did as he said before meeting him at the front door. it didn’t strike you as odd, chan liked to go out with you often.
“where are we going?”
“just to the park.”
you held your hand out for him to take and you missed the pain that crossed his features as he took the invitation and lead you from your door and onto the street.
he played with your fingers as the two of you walked in comfortable silence, enjoying the morning air and being alone together.
he stopped when he reached the same cherry blossom tree he marveled over the first time you’d taken him out. you laughed as he stared at it for a moment.
he was so pretty.
he turned to you and grabbed you by the elbows, pulling you close to him. you laughed as he did so, not bothering or wanting to try to put space between yourselves.
“you know,” he smiled softly as he spoke down to you, your faces only inches apart, “it’s said that you can feel a ghosts energy.”
you tilted your head in confusion and he continued.
“you can tell if they’re good or if they want to hurt you.” he smiled, “that’s why you weren’t scared of me when we met. you knew i just wanted to protect you.”
you chuckled, “why are you telling me this how?”
“i’ve always wanted to protect you, and i’ll do whatever i can to do that.”
the happiness from before was slowly leaving you and being replace by confusion and fear as you saw his eyes behind to well up.
“why are you saying this?”
“baby, you know i love you, right?”
you nodded, tears of your own filling your eyes as he rested his forehead against yours, “i know. i love you too.”
he smiled at your words, softly closing the gap between you two and connecting his lips to yours. he lingered for a moment before pulling away.
“i’ll do anything to protect you, even if that means losing you.”
you shook your head, “chan, what are you-“
“it’s better this way, baby.”
he reached behind your neck and unhooked the necklace, holding it in his palm. you reached for it back but he held his fist tight.
“even when you forget me, i will always love you, okay?”
“chan, please don’t,” you started to understand what he was planning, “please don’t leave me.”
“it’s dangerous if i stay. they’re drawn to me, and if i’m with you they’ll always come for you, too.”
“i don’t care, i don’t-“
he hushed you, “i know you don’t baby, but i can’t keep putting you in danger because i’m selfish.”
the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes finally did, and he wiped them away with his thumb.
“can you shut your eyes for me?”
you shook your head no but allowed his thumbs to close your eyelids. you felt his lips against your forehead and you squeezed your eyes shut. when you opened them you were in your bedroom. you were overwhelmed by frustration and pain for a moment before you seemed to lose your train of though. why were you crying? and when did you get back to your room? last you remembered, you were grabbing a glass of water from your new kitchen, struggling to remember which cupboard you’d put all your cups in...
#skz#bang chan#stray kids#skz imagines#skz blurbs#skz scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids blurbs#stray kids scenarios#bang chan imagines#bang chan blurbs#bang chan scenarios#skz angst#stray kids angst#bang chan angst#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#bang chan fluff#skz smut#stray kids smut#kpop
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The love language concept sounds interesting! I’d say George’s love language/the way he shows love is physical touch, Paul’s is receiving gifts, Ringo’s is positive affirmation mixed with quality time, and tbh I’m not to sure for John. maybe acts or service or quality time for him?
Mwahaha, you've fallen into my trap! The truth is I wanted to do this topic more or less for myself, but felt bad bc I still have a few requests left to do. So thank you for sending in a "request" for me so that I can do one out of order real quick >:3
Lol but really tho, thank you for humoring me and these are good! I could honestly see all of these, but for John I'd say acts of service with you, bc the "To Do" stuff just sounds like his character tbh, but maybe also I feel like there's some physical touch too???
Ik I've heard that John kind of actually didn't like being touched, but I mean... If you look at literally any picture of him with Yoko, he's always at least holding her hand, if not just totally draped all over her lol, so I'm assuming for an S/O it's totally different!
But anyway, here's some headcannons real quick and then back to requests. Thanks everyone!
---
George
Honestly? I feel like George would just not be able to keep his hands off you
Like, not necissarily in a sexual way (although that too, if you're in the mood lol), it's just that he loves to let you and everyone else know you're his
He's not all too shy about it either lol
I mean obviously he saves the more lovey dovey stuff for private places, but in public he still has a lot to offer
Everytime he sees you he kisses you either on the cheek, forehead, or mouth and then pulls you in for a hug
Always
Then the rest of the time, as long as he doesn't have to be working, he likes to hold your hand and play with your hair
And if he's feeling a little risqué, he likes to let you sit on his lap and cuddle against him
In private tho...
Oh, he is all over you!!!
You are his sanctuary and safe haven away from the public eye and the daily grind that comes with being a Beatle
I've seen quite a few quotes from geo lamenting the fact that he and the others had literally no private life thanks to their stardom
So yeah, believe me when I say he could live a thousand years and still never feel like he could repay you for giving him the rest and love he needs
He'd be like a long, giant cat. Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, if he has an opportunity to snuggle up to you, he takes it
And if he's not exhausted, and if you let him !! he likes to just touch and kiss your body and face
Having that closeness and intimacy is so important to him, he wants to let you know how deeply he loves you
All of you
And of course, the best way you can return his love language back to him is by returning the intimacy he does for you!
When in Rome, after all
Honestly, just by accepting his offers when he initiates a request to hold your hand or hug or cuddle, he already appreciates that!
But if you initiate any of those things, he's definitely feeling the love!!
Although, one thing you like to do a bit different is giving massages
Of course George would certainly give you one if you asked!
But since he's usually tired, either mentally or physically, from always being on the go, you like to do him a favor lol
And he loves it
Seriously, you've never seen a man more blissed out then George gets over something as simple as a back or scalp massage
Assuming he doesn't fall asleep under the spell of your skillful fingers, he repays you with kisses or cuddles after :)
John
Ok idk if I'm like projecting, or reaching, or SOMETHING along those lines, but I feel like of all the boys, John is probably the one most looking for a true partner, as in like his other half
Paul is very close behind with his relationship with Linda, but for John it always came off as a need for him, more then like a want or nice thing to have
So anyway, all this to say that as far as acts of service goes, I think he gets a lot of security out of receiving this!
Like, whenever John's feeling particularly stressed or overwhelmed having you there to approach the issues with an objective mindset is a HUGE relief
Really, like I cannot stress this enough
Phrases like, "What can I do to take some pressure off for you?"
Or, "Well what if we just focus on x for now, and then we can take care of y and z tomorrow?"
All give him such a powerful sense of relief
And of course, the way that you, you know, actually follow up on your word, makes him fall even deeper in love with you then he thought possible
Now on the other hand, is physical touch
While this is a part of his love language cocktail, John likes to express this one a bit more then he likes to receive it
You see, unlike George, John is a little more reserved with his PDA
He will kiss you and hold your hand of course! But unfortunately his anxiety is a thing, so as much as he hates it, he has to reserve his physical affection for more private settings
But when you two are alone, he's like puddy in your hands!
He likes to just hold you a lot
It doesn't matter if you're preoccupied with something else, like a book or the telly, he just wants to have physical contact with you
And if you can do any of those things cuddled up on his lap or against his chest, even better!
But also, John definitely loves to get that energy back
He likes it when you give him cute little kisses and pet his head
I think he'd also like it if you rubbed his temples or the bridge of his nose/third eye lol
Wearing glasses all day can get uncomfortable you know!!
I think if you can establish that trust and physical closeness, that's when you'd also get a return on his acts of service
Really, if you've bonded this deeply with John he'd do literally anything for you
Whatever you need, whatever you want, if he can do it he will and if he can't he'll find a way to do it anyway!
He'd be loyal to a fault and love you forever after
Paul
Please tell me why I could see Paul being your sugar daddy on the low 😭😭
Really, like he just likes to spoil you!
Honestly if someone showed me proof that the real actual, 78 year old, 2021 Paul McCartney uses stacks of hundred dollar bills as tinder for his fireplace, I literally wouldn't even blink
Like even back in the day, he's got that Beatles' money baby !!! and he.... Kinda doesn't care for it, actually
I personally don't think any of the boys come across as like money hungry or something like that, but I could see Paul especially figuring that he might as well use all this dumb money to buy you things you like!
It may feel overwhelming to be on the receiving end of so many random, but expensive gifts tbh
You might even tell him to stop or that he doesn't have to do all that!!
I think he'd be able to understand that overwhelming you with nice things kinda has the opposite effect of what he's intending, but....
He just gets a little carried away sometimes lol
I mean growing up he didn't have all that much, and even now, like obviously nice things are nice, but meh
What he really wants to do is make sure you're enjoying the high life too!
I could see him doing more of writing you songs and music instead so that he can still fulfil his desire to give, should you feel uncomfortable with the fancy gifts
But yeah, if you're uncomfortable he totally would get that and dial back the materialism, but if you don't mind, then he doesn't either!!
Now you might be wondering how you, a delightfully average person, could impress Paul McCartney with a gift giving love language...
I mean, what do you give the man who has everything?
Well I'd tell you this... It's simple!
You could bring him literally anything that you find meaningful and be like "This made me think of you!" or "I just thought you'd like this!" and he'll love it!
He would definitely run up some organized collections of the little things you've given him
He has some dedicated display boxes for all the random, shiny rocks and pebbles you've found
A little filing drawer of all the notes you've ever wrote him
And if you like art or photography, he'd decorate his personal spaces with your work!
Of course he'd appreciate traditional gifts too tho
Like a watch or bass strings or a new tie ect ect
But the thing for you to not get caught up on is the price!
That doesn't matter to him :)
He likes your gifts bc they came from you!
Ringo
Ok, positive affirmation is definitely a big thing for Ringo
He gets roasted a lot by the boys and even the media, and all in good fun I suppose, but after a while enough is enough you know?
Not to mention, he just feels a bit... Lesser then?? Compared to the others and their musical talent
So the poor guy really needs a break!
Literally, even just little one word sentences of encouragement mean sooo much to him
"I'm so proud of you Ritchie!"
"That sounded wonderful!"
"You've done a great job today at the studio, good work!"
Stuff like that makes him melt
Of course he also appreciates the more conventional things like "I love you" and when you call him handsome!
And as for the spending quality time, that comes easily!
Ringo looooves to take you out on dates!
Now yes, there's your typical movie date, dinner, dancing, all that
But his favorite things to do is go on little adventures!
He takes you to the park, the beach, out to explore thrift and consignment stores, and anywhere else you want to check out!
However, not everyone wants to run around outside 24/7
So in the house, he likes doing things that you two can do together!
Painting is a big one, seeing as it's his other hobby, but it could honestly be anything, like puzzles, board games, or just watching TV!
I'm trying to think of how he'd return the words words of affirmation side of his love language, but I think it would be a little harder for him to do then expressing quality time tbh
You just make him so darn shy!
What with all your good looks and kindness, he just feels a little overwhelmed
Have you ever seen a work of art, or architecture, or even a landscape so breathtaking that you don't really know where to start when describing it to someone?
Yeah, it's like that
He definitely wants to try tho!
I think he'd stick to simple things like complimenting your outfits and praising your work or personal projects you show him!
He's worried that that comes across as just common decency tho, so he says "I love you" a lot and tries to make up for his bad way with words with quality time
#the beatles#ringo starr x reader#john lennon x reader#george harrison x reader#paul mccartney x reader#beatles x reader#beatles imagines#love langauges
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OK NOW THAT I KNOW WHAT 🍰 MEANS UD LIKE ONE PLEASE!
Um my name is Emma I'm 5'10 with thick glasses and shoulder length brown hair (I'm also getting an undercut on the right side bc ya girl E D G Y) I'm awkwardly skinny, like a stick, ID PUT FLATTYKAWA TO SHAME 😭. And since I'm awkwardly skinny and have long limbs I crash into everything within a five mile radius. I'm a mess but I'm cute so it's ok.
I'm a hufflepuff, Taurus and an INFJ. I can be either really observant and understand why people act a certain way or do the tings they do, or completely oblivious. There is no in-between. I really like finding unique or weird things and love going to antique and thrift stores to find them. I'm really crafty and my head is always in the clouds with ideas for something I'm writting....which makes me a target for any kind of ball. I'm always getting hit in the head with balls, it's low key a meme at this point. I'm kind of awkward but I've been putting myself out there more often bc I don't want to regret all my time wasted being worried about what others think. I'm really nice and like to make people smile. I do nt have many friends (people are scary) but the ones I do I hold very dear to me and would fight for them till the ends of the earth. I can be kind of blunt sometimes and sometimes I don't get jokes but I mean well. And by mean well I mean I'm terrified of accidentally hurting people's feelings. I may be ✨soft✨ but I'm not a pushover and will call people out if needed. Around people I don't know well I'm pretty quiet but if you ask me about something I'm interested I could talk for hours upon hours. I can be pretty extra around my friends and have chaotic energy.
I love cute things and animals. I have these cats that I will NOT shut up about. I really like bright, kind of chaotic things
@pansexualproblemchild
Romantic Matchup
Semi Eita
How Y’all Met
Ok so Semi has a weird complex where he wants to be at least decent at EVERYTHING
So when someone pointed out that his serves could use some work
He just HAD to work on them
Unfortunately you being the ball magnet you are walked into the gym JUST as he served the ball
What happened next you may ask?
WHABAM
hit you right in the face
Apparently this particular serve was very powerful
Cuz sis you passed out 🤠
Now Semi was #panicking
So he picked you up bridal style and started walking you to the nurse
In the middle of this little journey you woke up
In his arms
Looking up at his beautiful face
Uhhhhh
ANYWAYS
He got you to the nurse
And turns out you were fine 😃
BUT
The nurse advised you not to be watched over for at least a couple of hours
And since semi felt super bad
He offered to watch you :)
Now in order to make this time less awkward
He asked you what you wanted to do to pass the time
To which you responded with....
✨ 🛍 THRIFTING 🛍 ✨
Ahh yes the art of shopping for cheap 😌
Now semi did not know what thrifting was
So it was your job to show him
You took him to one of your favorite thrift stores
Picked out a few outfits for him
And a few for yourself 😗
And held a mini fashion show!
Honestly semi was having the most fun he felt in a while
And after y’all picked out some clothes
You dragged him over to the nick nacks
And that’s when you found
These guys!
You decided to buy them, taking the smaller one for yourself
And giving semi the other one :)
It was to “mark your newly found friendship”
Yeah
That’s when semi fell in love with you
So when it was time to drop you off home
He decided not to waste the opportunity and asked you on a proper date
Y’all have been dating ever since ;)))
Favorite Things To Do Together
Ok honestly you got him REALLY into thrifting
It doesn’t Mayer if it’s clothes or just random items
He LOVES thrifting
Especially with you
Because you buy a shit ton of random little things
And they always remind him of you 😊
He also really likes to do crafts with you
AS OONG AS IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH A HOT GLUE GUN
He’s burned himself one to many times...
Random Hc
He would 100% get an undercut with you
Y’all can be edgy babes together 😌
He doesn’t allow you in the gym anymore 😀
If his spike was able to do some damage IMAGINE the damage Ushijimas could do
No hurt s/o on semis watch
And I just wanna end these random Hc with the fact that this man would spoil you 👀
You see something you really want at the thrift store
He buys it
Honestly you stopped paying for things all together since you’ve started dating him
Astrology
When Taurus and Scorpio come together in a love affair, their union is nothing if not intense, whether that’s in a positive or a negative way.
They are opposite Signs in the Zodiac, giving them a special, complex connection.
They can combine to make a whole, each partner’s strengths balancing the other’s weaknesses.
Their sexual attraction is likely to be off the charts!
Taurus and Scorpio have tons in common, but because their personalities are so powerful, they often swing between passionate love and passionate disagreement!
Taurus and Scorpio both have deep desires, Taurus for possessions and Scorpio for power.
They’re both concerned with wealth and resources, and they’re both intensely passionate about all sorts of things.
Taurus is a bit more self-focused than Scorpio, who is more concerned with their lover and immediate family.
Both of these Signs have a great, deep-rooted need for security in a relationship, but with slightly different focuses.
While Taurus prizes honesty and forthrightness and abhors infidelity, Scorpio loves to be mysterious.
A Scorpio’s need for security is more about the need to be constantly reassured that their emotional connection with their loved one is strong.
The good thing is, Taurus needs this reassurance too — and is also willing to provide it for their Scorpio lover.
Their powerful connection that can shine when obstacles to intimacy are cleared away.
When Scorpio realizes that Taurus is there for the long term and won’t create the misery that some Scorpios attract to their lives, this relationship can blossom.
Overall Aesthetic
ThriftCore
Songs-
More Than Friends- Aidan Bissett
Listerine- Dayglow
Scrawny- Wallows
Thrift Shop- Macklemore
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fandom#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu hcs#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu matchups#semi#semi Eita#semi x reader#semi x y/n
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Tis the Damn Season
Chapter Five- Santa Baby
Hello, I took a couple weeks, because life can be busy, and mine is changing, but here is a little 🎁!
Thanks to @dirtystyles, she’s the real gift!
"What are you wearing?"
"I'm sorry, but what?"
It was all she could think to say. Emma hadn't heard from Harry in months. In August he had sent her a random picture of him in a collar with long hair. She knew he had chopped his hair months ago, it had caused an internet flurry and was one of the few times he'd emerged from hibernation. She might be miffed that his year-off apparently didn't include visiting her. Not that she had asked him to.
She'd never ask.
Emma might also be incredibly miffed that he had cut off his glorious hair. She'd rocked herself to sleep many a night thinking of the way it felt trailing ver her chest, then stomach, in the crevice of her thigh. The crunch and silk of it between her fingers when she got it between her fingers at the end of that path or when he was rocking her to sleep.
Thinking about his hair usually made her hot for him, and thinking of it gone made her nostalgic, and a little mad. And that was when the memory was fresh and jot months old.
In any case, she wasn't feeling very soft for him, and that was a sexy question. She definitely wasn't feeling wet for him.
She had just walked out of class on a freezing cold day before she was ready for it to be this chilly, and she had to ride her bike. Her class was on individual contribution to global crises. Emma was the first to point out that individuals were not the true climate change culprits, but every bit helped. She just wished she'd ridden one of the clean energy buses today. Today sucked.
"Your teeth are chattering Emma, you outside?" she made an affirmative sound and he wisely knew better than to wait for an answer after that. He'd set up this mood, after all. "Sorry, came out wrong, it was meant to be funny." Harry had an apology in his voice. It was like the first knead of a dough, but he had a long way to go. "Anyway, what I meant is, I'm Christmas shopping, and I was thinking about what you might like, was gonna get you a jumper, and I think I have an idea of your style, but wanted a little guidance, I'd hate to buy you something and have you hate it—"
"Harry, take a breath!" She could feel that smile he had a way of bringing to her lips, despite herself. She really wanted to be upset with him, but seemed he'd proved himself, or distracted her at least.
Emma can't quite get a full grasp on why she's irritated with the phone call with him. She's not sure what she expected. They never had a conversation about it, about how they are just a little holiday fling. She's never even had a summer fling, so she doesn't know the rules but she assumes that they are not supposed to repeat year on year. Least not without some progress or a defining conversation where they decided on not a relationship. He was confusing. He'd been so happy to have a bit of extra time with her, she'd thought he might be in touch more, with his seemingly abundant free time. She's wanted him to be in touch more. But he hadn't.
She'd heard from him less than ever.
And now he was buying her gifts and making her smile. Damn him.
"I'm breathing, promise." He sighed. "I just could tell I'd pissed you off, and I don't want to. I've been thinking about Christmas, and well, I'm excited."
"I'm excited too. Holidays are exciting." Emma is not going to read into that. He's excited to be with his family. He's Christmas shopping for everyone. This is not about her, them.
There is no them.
There is no them, except between Christmas Eve and New Years. And that is purely physical.
These are the things she repeated to herself when she was sad, waiting for him to call or text. Sad from how he dragged himself from their pub bed saying he'd miss her and be in touch and then wasn't. His sweet nothings were like when people signed your yearbook K.I.T. She knew you weren't supposed to take those yearbook signings seriously, but he'd said it, not written it below some picture of him. That counted more, right? Than a picture? Those were cheap, especially of him; there were pictures of him everywhere, Emma was also upset that none of them looked like the real life him. Just a shade of his actual beauty.
She wanted to see him now. She missed him though she shouldn't.
Just over a month now until Christmas. And a busy one at that. She had so much data to sift through from the summer and a presentation she was basing on it was her culminating project. It would also make an early start on her field work come summer. Those things, academic, important things were her focused her life's work. Not delicious Harry Styles and his sweet holiday nothings.
"Yes, especially when I get my favorite for Christmas." Harry said bringing her back to the call they were on.
The meaning behind those words were a bit harder to ignore. All she could get out was "Oh?" Then she rolled her eyes at herself and cleared her throat and said, "Your mum's Christmas cake?"
He chuckled. "I am fond of that cake, I think I put on two stone last year from how much I ate. And she sent me home with one!"
Emma almost called bullshit on that. He'd expended all those calories, she'd been the apparatus.
She took a breath to speak, and he cut her off. "I don't mean the cake, anyway, I mean you: you're my favorite thing to have at Christmas. The best gift."
What was she supposed to say to that? Another eloquent oh? Instead she said, "Your favorite thing?" Playful offense on the word thing.
"Oh hush." He laughed. "You're my favorite, Emma. In case you want to be obtuse and miss my point. I'm very excited to see you."
She breathed in. All she could manage to reply with was "Me too."
She meant it, but as they got off the phone after setting up their usual tryst and a special meeting before the party to exchange gifts, she couldn't help but wonder if he did. If what he said was true, why the radio silence?
The gift on her lap on the train was large and ostentatious. She didn't have a ton of money for the it, student life, but her recipient was a millionaire, so she'd gone all out on the wrapping paper.
It was a frog in a Christmas hat, the motif on the paper. Emma remembered when she and Gemma had called Harry "frog boy" and he'd been mortified. But it had also found its way into their private rooms. Not when he was inside her, that would be weird, but when he looked up at her and grinned, all dimples and no teeth from where he likes to make her stomach a pillow.
How "Froggy" had become a term of endearment, she didn't know. The moment she'd seen the cute froggy in his holiday rig on the overpriced paper, she had stopped what she was doing, parked her bike with no lock, and popped in the shop.
She then had to find something to put in the paper. He'd been shopping for her this year, in October, and he'd said he was at the shop and she'd seen pictures of him hauling bags out of Gucci. That was not intimidating at all.
They had exchanged small things in years past. Harry had started it, he'd given a cookbook a friend recommended the year she went vegan. Then the next year he'd donated in her name to a clean air initiative. She'd just picked up odds and ends she thought he'd like, like a 100% recycled journal one year and a glass bottle set for his gym runs the next.
This year, she'd racked her brain, but she'd eventually found the perfect gift to fill her frog paper. She was getting better at this. He was entirely too good at it, and he was a quick learner. She'd been underwhelmed with the flowers he sent the first year and had explained that cut flowers made her sad. It seemed a waste to kill something for its fleeting beauty. Harry had nodded thoughtfully.
The next flower he sent was a gorgeous orchid, it arrived once she was back in Amsterdam and came with instructions. That first orchid had started a trend and between his gifts and her own new interest, her flat was looking very jungle esque.
Emma was always very excited to see him, but this year, after his call, there was more anticipation and preparation. If he was going to be ready for her, she would be ready for him.
She got a fresh haircut and trimmed her bush. The thrift store was kind to her, and her new Christmas jumper was perhaps less ugly than flattering, but that was ok with her. She particularly liked the way it lay over the skirt she'd planned to wear to the Twist's annual todo.
Her flights had been uneventful and her mother was elated and doting. Emma found it much more tolerable this year. Maybe she was just in the spirit, or maybe she'd been away from the village and her family long enough to actually miss them.
She definitely missed Harry.
He, predictably, had texted that his flight was delayed and he was trying to make arrangements, but he might not even make it in time for the party.
"I'm doing everything in my power to get there tonight. If I can't make my mother's party, but arrive tonight, can we meet? I'll call the inn."
"Yes." Was all she texted back. She found she was mourning their kiss beneath the mistletoe, and that he might miss her outfit. But Harry's power was considerable, and she had no doubt he would be at the Boar's Head in time to see what she planned to wear under the sweater.
Those pieces, she felt a twinge guilty about. They were pricey and definitely not second hand. Used pants were where she drew the line.
People, not Emma, bemoaned Harry's absence when those who still lived local or were able to travel home gathered for toast. Emma knew she wasn't the only one who came home partially to see Harry. It was why she was able to fly under Gem's radar, hopefully.
Gemma's only comment was, "He'll be here when he can." When Eloise asked where Harry was. She asked every year, it annoyed Gem, and took some of the heat off Emma. Eloise was so obvious, Gemma could direct some of her protective big sister vibes that way.
The night was winding down and Emma's third glass of champagne could use topping up. She'd just sidled into the kitchen to pop another bottle when a pair of arms came around her from behind.
She'd have dropped the bottle too if Harry had not pulled the most uncharacteristicly smooth and agile catch he'd ever made, whilst dipping her for a swoon worthy kiss.
"Harry!" Emma gasped, "What are you doing?" Her Hand went to find his hair, and she was sad to find it until she found his sharp, bare jaw instead. It cut through her nostalgia and she was able to appreciate his face on a new way. His lips.
"Getting my midnight kiss!"
"It's not New Year's." It was better, like new year's and her birthday combined, that kiss.
"Not yet!" He righted her but stayed wrapped around her while she popped the bottle. She poured him a glass too and had to refrain from holding his hand when she pulled him into the living room after they toasted.
He stole a kiss before they went to join the others.
It looked like his arrival was going to renew the party spirit, but he begged off as tired, and disappeared to his room by 1:30.
Emma wasn't sure what to do, or where to go, so she just slipped out the back at 2:00 when a car nearly gave her heart palpitations by pulling up right in front of her. The door popped open and Harry stuck his head out. "Cmon, it's our getaway car!"
She couldn't help but shake her head. "You disappeared and I didn't know what you wanted to do."
"Well, you obviously!" He giggled, high off the champagne and his conniving. "C'mon! We don't have that long. I wanna do Christmas morning with you!"
"It's still nighttime." Emma pointed out.
"Don't worry, we'll find something to do until the sun comes up." He looked up at her through his lashes and she couldn't help but bite her lips.
"What's the rush, Styles?" Emma asked as she climbed into the car. The driver seemed unconcerned and headed down the familiar lanes of a familiar place.
"No rush, I'm just excited and have to be back so I can sneak in for Christmas brunch."
"Oh." She knew that, it wasn't the first time.
"Not 'oh,' I want to give you your gifts on actual Christmas."
"Are you Santa Claus?" She teased as he pulled her into his chest.
"If that's what you're into? I'll be whoever you want me to be."
"Then just be you." She said with painful earnestness before she could stop herself.
Harry looked down at her in the cradle of his armpit and put his forehead to hers and gave her an Eskimo kiss. "As long as you're you."
Emma melted and if she hadn't been so tired and a little too drunk on bubbly she wouldn't have fallen asleep on the way to the Boar's Head.
"Baby," Harry whispered into her hair. "Wake up, we're here."
"I can't believe I fell asleep that fast."
"It's my voice, I've been told it has a sedative power."
"Sleepy is not usually how your voice makes me feel." What truth serum had she taken tonight?
"Well, I'll have to talk a lot to keep you up then. Hope you're refreshed after your little nap."
She was, and he kept her up but by 5:00, even his deep voice and other powers of persuasion couldn't keep her leaden lids open.
"Baby! Emma." Harry was kissing her awake and holding out a shirt for her slip on while slipping socks up her calves. "Present time."
"Ok, Santa baby." She yawned and let him drag her into the room where she had completely missed the tiny Charlie Brown tree in the corner. "Oh! You went all out." She looked at him in awe when she noticed the multicolored packages under the tree. "I only got you one thing," she was rubbing sleep out of her eyes and too tired to bullshit. "I'm feeling inadequate."
"Nah, I've heard it's better to give than receive."
"That's not what you said a couple hours ago."
"I'll give gifts if you give head." They both scrunched their brows. "Scratch the part where I made it sound like you were my sugar baby."
"Or a prostitute."She raised an arch brow.
"Nah, I couldn't afford you." He didn't even smirk.
So she responded, "I think you think that's a compliment."
He snort laughed and she couldn't help but smile with him. "I mean, you do it well enough to be paid for it, but by the face you're making I better quit talking and get to the spoiling to get myself out of trouble. Go on, open a present."
"Any order you envisioned."
"Um? No, the one where order matters I have a plan for."
"This isn't all?"
"This is most." He nodded and she felt a warm place under her breast that only ignited when he was being domestic.
Back in her old room in her childhood home, or in her flat in Amsterdam, she'd occasionally puzzle over these moments. They felt nothing short of boyfriendy, and she loved it. When she thought back on them, especially in the cold January days, they kept her warm and made her feel special. She hadn't ever felt that warm flush in her chest with anybody but Harry. She'd kind of avoided the feeling, usually.
By July, after long periods of silence where he was running around the world while she endeavored to save it, the glow of those days paled in the midnight sun. When he acted like a boyfriend, like they were more than a hookup and then ignored her, it hurt. When she was well into her yearly drought, and all she had were those shooting stars to wish upon, the sweeter he was, the more rich the ache, the aftertaste saccharine.
Emma could tell, his gifts and the joy he seemed to take in giving them would warm her to the backbone through January, and make her teeth hurt by July.
And still she couldn't convince herself to stop, to ask, to protect herself. She couldn't even detach a little, she was so excited about the little stuffed animal she had for him in return.
"Harry, this is beautiful!" She unfolded a gorgeous sweater dress of a fine wool knit that screamed warm.
"Yeah?" He smiled, pleaded with the praise and himself. "I was at Gucci, and I was gonna get you some stuff there, but they just didn't feel like you, so I started doing some research on sustainable brands and I found this one, and another. This one is good for day to day, it's called Ever Lane, and the next, Bode, it's great for retro pieces. Open the next one."
She'd been staring at him. He was going to buy her Gucci? This was better, but that seemed like a pretty penny to spend on your holiday hook up. She knew money wasn't really an object for him. He always paid for the hotel on their rendezvous and she never brought it up. It was always just taken care of. She wasn't a starving student, but she also wasn't an international pop star. These gifts felt big, bigger than what they were.
He liked to be generous. But, it felt like these gifts, the 5 packages and one coming later were a statement in a language she didn't understand.
"Harry, this is too much." Was all she could say. He didn't respond with words, just gave her a look and shrugged his shoulders like, 'what else am I supposed to do with it'.
Emma knew from Gemma that Harry took care of them, their vehicles and his mum's house and whatever they mentioned they wanted or he thought they'd like.
Gemma had said last year, when she was thrilling over her Christmas gifts, "It's the one time of year I let him get away with it. The rest of the time I've gotten to where I don't mention things I like or want, because they show up on my doorstep, you know?"
Emma had nodded even though she didn't know, but she did now. He was so thoughtful it hurt, but the implications troubled her.
"Open the next one. I'm really excited for it."
It was a beautiful jacket, mustard, her favorite color, and matching mittens.
"For when you want to ride your bike, but it's chilly. They're very warm." He remembered she was cold on her bike that day.
Emma knew he remembered her text after the 'what are you wearing' conversation about being grumpy because she had chosen to ride her bike but it was too cold. His big beating heart could melt snow.
She swallowed down the sentiments clogging her throat along with her worries. Should she ask? She'd have too, eventually. This was feeling more serious than it should be, like he wanted to call her babe for more than a weekend, like he wanted her to stay, with him.
It's what she wanted, in some part of her, but was completely out of the question. He had a big international life, and she had her own global ambition.
The rest was wrapped donation cards to causes she'd worked for or even mentioned. The last gift was a small box, and when she opened it, she cried, then laughed and handed him his box.
"What?" He said, "I can't tell if you're happy or sad about that gift?" He worries his bottom lip.
It was another frog, just like the one she'd picked as the tangible gift when she'd made the donation in his name.
Emma just shrugged and wiped her eyes. "Open it."
His bursting balloon laugh inflated her merry heart. "Did we really do the exact same thing?" His face had an odd look she could only call tender.
"Same wavelength, me and you." He was misty like she had been a moment ago. He leaned forward and kissed her. Then picked up their stuffed frogs and made them kiss like he was a small child playing dolls. "I almost don't want to separate them."
"Are we still talking about the frogs?" She laughed, because she had a feeling they weren't.
He shrugged and his phone began to buzz. "Can I take a rain check on answering that question? If I don't leave right now, they will know I stayed out all night on Christmas Eve, and there will be questions. I don't think we are quite ready to explain what we are." He chose that moment to yawn like a lion in the late afternoon after a long day of lounging and got up to leave.
Emma still had questions.He'd said not quite ready to explain what they were doing. Emma wasn't even sure what they were doing. Were they going to tell people, tell Gemma? Tell them what? That they were together? Wanted to be together? Belonged together. The frogs too, did the frogs belong together?
He was dressed by the time she was done freaking out. He looked tired, but exhilarated, like he'd spent a night getting everything he wanted and a few things he didn't know he needed. "Bye doll," he kissed her, right on the mouth, affectionately and with only a trace of the heat the December air lacked. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Merry Christmas! I wanna see you in the sweater," he was walking through the door. "Oh, and the other thing?"
"Other thing?" She looked at him confused.
He pointed underneath the tree. "Have another look."
Emma blushed when she opened the lingerie. She wondered if he'd had to check her pants and bras for sizes or if he just knew the shape of her well enough that he'd guessed accurately.
They looked really good.
She needed to be getting home as well. There would be no getting out of it, she needed an excuse for rolling in just in time for Christmas brunch, her parents were notorious early risers, as was she. Her plan was to tell them she'd just made too merry the night before and slept on the couch at the Twist's. It was truth adjacent. It was the best she could come up with, her head was full of Harry and she couldn't think.
Her Christmas passed in a blur of food and wine and wrapping paper. Harry had sent her a picture of him with a bow on his head and asked her if she felt spoiled enough or needed him to wear the bow the next day.
She'd told him to wear it. And only it.
She'd not expected him to follow directions both precisely and with some creative license.
"Do you really think your cock is a gift?" She tried to mock him, while he stood proudly, hips first in their room at the Boat's Head.
"Well, I intend to give it to you!" He raised his eyebrows and stalked toward her. "I like the sweater. Looks amazing, but? Probably better here." He swept it over her head and deposited it on the floor.
"That was atrocious!" She giggled, but felt no anxiety unlike the last day or so.
"Yeah, maybe, but I needed to see if you'd worn my other gift."
"I thought it was my gift."
"For both of us, I'd argue." He winked.
"You wink like a drunk pirate." She couldn't help but smile at him. His silly banter had completely removed the nerves she should be feeling, standing in front of him in a Santa red bra, panties, garter belt, and stockings. She'd sourced the Santa hat herself and the black heels were hers.
"I'm feeling drunk seeing you in this." His hands were running over the satin on her hips and the lace at her waist, then the bare flesh of her ass. "I think I even lied to myself. This was definitely my present." The last word was said against her lips and his big hands slid down the globes of her backside to between her thighs, hoisting her onto his hips. The trail his thumbs left had her shivering.
The bed rose up to meet her. Harry hovered over her before standing and staring.
"Are we on pause?" She was panting and really hoping they were not stopping let alone slowing.
He opened his hands like a director, "I'm just trying to remember this to keep me warm all year." He ran his hands from her toes to her curled hair, she'd gone all out, then back down. His face was full of anticipation and a hesitation she'd never seen when she was this bare, not even the first time when he was flush on bravado and international acclaim.
"What is it?" She started to sit up.
He groaned. "Wow, that move did great things for your chest."
Emma could only laugh. He was acting like he'd never seen a naked woman, when he'd probably seen more than his fair share, and had definitely seen her before.
"You're acting like you've never seen me before."
"It's always like the first time. You're overwhelming."
"I'm overwhelming?" She wanted to laugh, she saw him as Harry, at first her friend's brother, then the cute boy with the big career she'd hooked up with, then her favorite holiday surprise, and now she couldn't define exactly what he was to her, mostly Harry? Who she missed all year and cherished for a week at a time in person, a deeply in her heart the rest of the time. She remained aware, however, of who he was, at large.
"Absolutely, I can barely take you. Can't believe I get to have you." What did she say to that? She only nodded, it was mutual. "Listen," he continued, "Can I take a picture of you. I'll keep your face out of it."
She thought for a moment, thrilled that he wanted to save this memory, to relive this moment until they met again. She didn't have any pictures of him, and thought there were so many online, none of them were really of him. "Yeah, go on Harry."
Maybe she should take one back. Save the neck down one place and the neck up as her wallpaper, she could get away with it. She saw classmates with him as their Home Screen. Her plans kept the nerves at bay while he got his set up ready.
He posed a leg, had her lay back, and then sit up. He took about 5 pictures on his phone, then three Polaroids, and by then she was getting into it. She was moving in ways that made her feel sexy and he was getting antsy.
"I'll show you, so you can approve, after." He discarded the phone and pulled his jumper over his head before crawling up the bed and over her.
"I trust you Harry. It's fine."
She wasn't sure what it was about those words, but he grew, thicker between her thighs and larger in her presence before he was kissing her bra off and asking if he could leave the stockings and shoes on.
"'Mmmhmmm." Emma moaned from her perch on the pillows looking down watching him pull her panties free and reattaching her stockings. "Damn." He kissed both places and flipped her over to skate his lips up her thighs and ass and back. Her hair was over her face while he kissed her neck and rutted into her with his jeans still on. She grabbed a handful of his glorious hair and kissed him over her shoulder. "Like this?" She asked.
"Mmhmmm." He echoed and she felt him kicking his jeggings free and sliding on the condom. She was flat on the mattress and unsure if he wanted her to push back on her knees. She didn't need to think about it long, he hoisted her up, and pressed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades so her body arched like a slide. His fingers climbed up to cascade down her backbone in an echo of the ride he was about to take down. He was right there, hovering, and Emma pushed back, but the whine in her voice was the more obvious tell.
"Baby, I need you."
"I need you, so much. Miss you when I'm gone."
She missed him when she was gone too. He slid his head in and waited. Emma wasn't really in control of the clenching this caused and it made Harry lose his grip on his. The smack of his hips against her thighs reverberated off the borrowed walls they considered their own.
He stroked her inside out and commented on the grip of her onto his dick. "It's like you don't want to let me go," he whispered into her ear.
Emma turned her head and breathed, "I don't want to." The kiss broke his rhythm and lingered until her clenching started over, again. How was she so close so soon?
"No, no, no." She whined when he pulled out.
"Shhhh, I've got you." He knew she was onto something, they'd become practiced hands at each other's pleasure.
He flipped her over and smoothed her hair back, bracketing her face between his hands like an aside he needed to voice right at that moment. "I just want to see you."
He went back in with ease, and with anybody else she might be ashamed for how embarrassingly wet she was, for the squelch. "God! Harry!" Her thighs came up to his hips and he hitched one over his elbow and open, then lay a good portion of his weight onto her. It was just the right side of too much. Just like all of him.
"Let me find it again, that high you were chasing?"
She was nodding, babbling. He picked up the rhythm from before and added a tiny rut at the end to the swelling of her clit. She was back on the trail to the summit quickly. It had been good, if fumbling, from night one. By this gift season, it was like he had installed all of her buttons personally and could push her to the edge at will. Her eyes were closed and she was concentrating hard on the oasis just beyond her horizon.
"Baby," he whispered, his breath soft and scented like her lip balm. "Open your eyes." He was just over her and he wrapped her open thigh back and around his knee. "Watch me," he made a c with his body so she could watch the goings on and feel them too.
"Oh, fuck."
"I love your filthy mouth. When you get going. Demure driven Emma on the brink has a dirty dirty mouth."
She'd narrow her eyes at him if she could bear to look away from his cock.
"Baby!" She gasped.
"Hold it, stay, just a little longer." He kissed her and then compelled her eyes to his. "I'll come with you."
His nose touched hers at just the tip and he rocked her and watched as she trembled and held off and pleaded. "Now, now, come now." He grit his teeth in preparation, but he needn't have worried, the minute he commanded it, she obeyed and the body roll of sensation ran from the roots of her hair to the bends of her knees.
He seized and his head fell back, but as soon as he was in command of himself again, his eyes were back on hers. "I love...," he gasped and her mind raced over what the hell he might say. What she wanted to gasp back. It was a bit of a comedown as opposed to a denouement when he filled in, "...having you for Christmas."
He buried his face in her neck and breathed into the nooks and crannies she thought she had kept safe from him.
Which was why it hurt so much when she had to tell him no.
His final gift, complete with an aching grin, had been an open ended ticket. "So you can come to me, with me, on tour."
She knew her brow knotted up like a bundle of discarded yarn. That wasn't the agreement. And she couldn't, couldn't even allow herself to want it. She had her PhD program looming. There was no time to go anywhere this fall.
"Harry, you know I can't."
He looked crestfallen, like this was new information and not why they only got these stolen snowbound days once a year. "Can't or won't?" He was verging on angry and it would piss her off if her heart wasn't so close to fissuring.
Honesty was her only policy, "Both." She handed the ticket back to him.
It ruined their night, the movie they tried to distract themselves with, the goodbye sex they didn't have.
He wasn't even there when she woke up the next morning.
But the tickets were on his pillow with a small note, "Change your mind, please. I'll be seeing you. H."
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#ttds#chapter 5#Santa baby#tis the damn season#song fic
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Part 49. Lets be real, things that are free taste ever so slightly better.
In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. In this chapter, Nico tries to find Christmas gifts people he cares about with Will. The rest can be found on AO3 and FanFiction.net! And also in Tumblr tags like Dionysus, Nico di Angelo, therapy etc.
This Might Be Crazy: Chapter 49: Free chocolate milk
‘And then suddenly it’s Christmas.�� I looked around. New York looked like the Christmas elves had dropped a bag of joy over it.
Will looked at me. ‘Not to scare you, but the city has been looking like this since Halloween.’
‘I try to ignore that.’
Will sighed and laughed at the same time. ‘Sure. Come now, you needed to buy Christmas presents, we should get to buying them.’
‘Yes, of course... hey!’ He grabbed my arm and pulled me along, further into the heart of New York.
‘They really were just too lazy to name these streets.’
Will sighed. ‘No.’ He looked at his phone. ‘It is way easier to find out where the streets are. You just follow the number.’
‘I guess. Which street are we on now?’ I looked around, but I didn’t see a number anywhere. Will narrowed his eyes, while still looking at his phone. ‘If I am correct, we are on thirty-third.’
‘Ah.’ I took a step back when two screaming children ran past me, followed by a tired looking mother. ‘We need to go to Jackson village, too. I don’t mean Sally Jacksons’ place, but the actual, physical part of town.’
‘And why is that?’
‘Free drinks at Denny’s.’
Will grinned. ‘Those are always welcome. Also, Google Maps gave me the directions I asked for. Let’s go.’
I had to give Will some credit, he chose his boring chocolates rather quickly. Why he had to go to all the way to New York for them was beyond me, though.
Will handed me a tiny felt box. ‘Alright. We should go with the subway, then maybe we can actually reach Jackson village before Christmas. Here, eat.’ I opened the box. It had two heart-shaped chocolates in them.
‘Will, that is kinda sappy.’ I put the bonbon into my mouth. ‘And I like sappy sometimes. Alright. Can we get out of the subway a few stops earlier than necessary? I am not entirely sure what to get people, so I want to see a few shops.’
‘I mean, I was thinking of going to a dollar store to buy things for the Camp gift exchange, and we could go to an outlet if you wanted something for Reyna, Hazel or Percy…’
‘Hm. For camp a dollar store is good, and maybe I can even find some fun things for my friends as well. For Hazel I already bought a knitted raccoon hat, though. And I will not buy your present while you are standing right next to me.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Alright. Come, I see a subway station over there.’
Even though they are probably the grossest and busiest places in New York, I kind of liked the undergrounds. Kind of stupid, but well, they were under the ground.
We got out and went up to street level again. Lo and behold, there was a dollar store right across the street.
‘I always wonder how they can stuff even more garbage into stores like those then they can into IKEA,’ I thought out loud, while we crossed the street. Will shrugged.
‘Talent, I guess.’
‘Talent? Oh, what. At least I will be able to find something Percy will go absolutely insane for that costs me nothing more than a measly dollar.’
‘Last time I was in the dollar store, they had dolphin shaped candy boxes.’
‘If they have those again, I’ll take two. Otherwise Percy will complain that his dolphin-shaped candy box is lonely.’
Maybe it was all trash, but it was easy trash. Packed with presents for almost everyone we cared a little or slightly more than a little about, we got out of the dollar store.
‘So, that was quite productive,’ Will mentioned. He was carrying the plastic bag with our stuff.
‘Yes.’ I looked around, at the other stores. Somewhere, they were bound to have something.
‘What I did not say before is that I am actually looking for something for Dionysus. I do not know if he celebrates Christmas, but I do know it is his birthday.’
‘The 25th of December?’
‘Yes.’
‘So, basically, Jesus just took over his birthday?’
‘Yes. I don’t know how he feels about it.’ Maybe I’ll ask.
Will hummed. ‘I think it is pretty difficult to find something for a god, though. That being said, I do think Dionysus will be happy no matter what.’
‘Maybe...’
‘Oh, here is a thrift store!’ Will pointed . We stopped walking. ‘Do you mind if we go there for a second? I need something they might have there.’
‘Are you entirely sure what that thing is?’
‘You never do with thrift-stores.’ I sighed.
‘Yeah, true.’ I wrapped my arm around his waist while we went in.
It was a pretty big thrift store and it clearly didn’t just sell regular mortal junk. I wandered off, while Will searched through the old books.
I ended up in the jewelry section. It looked as if both an old grandma and her six year old granddaughter had just given away all of their jewelry. All I saw was ancient-looking pearl necklaces and pink fairy rings.
I looked in a few drawers of an old cupboard. It was all clearly not worth much, otherwise it would not be laying out in the open, but it sure looked shiny.
In one of the drawers, I found an earring. I could not find its better half, but it did look a lot like something Will had shown me that he wanted to buy but could not find anywhere.
I let it roll from one hand into the other. Was it dangerous to gift your boyfriend jewelry from a thrift store that radiated weird energy? Maybe. But the earring itself did not do so.
I dug slightly deeper, looking around for more stuff the people who were worth more than dollar store gifts would appreciate. Now that I took a good look at it, the jewelry cabinet was kind of a goldmine, no pun intended. I even found a small, gold necklace for Reyna (Probably fake-golden, otherwise it would not be lying around in a random cabinet-drawer, but still).
Eventually, I looked up and saw a small glass cabinet. There was a brooch on display that made me unable to stop looking at it. I did not recognise the gemstone they used, if it was even a real gemstone, but it was a deep purple. The brooch was shaped like, vines running past and over each other.
The thing cost only five dollars. It was as if the universe was pushing me to get it (But I could have imagined that).
In the background, I heard Will say something to the seller (Who did not sound entirely like human to me). Slowly, I walked past the shelves, hoping I could somehow buy what I wanted without Will noticing.
After a few seconds, I felt a tap on my shoulders. I turned around. There was a second not-entirely-human seller standing behind me.
‘You want what you are currently holding and the purple brooch without your boyfriend over there noticing , is that right?’ He asked, in a coarse voice.
‘Eh, yes,’ I whispered.
The seller grinned. ‘I get it, youngling. You saw the prices. Twenty dollars and it is all yours.’
I had no idea whether those were the actual prices, but twenty dollars was not super expensive, so I handed it to him. He unlocked the glass cabinet, got out the brooch, I put everything into the pocket of my coat and joined Will again.
The seller, who Will was just done with, looked exactly like the seller I had spoken to had. Will grabbed my hand and we walked out. I looked over my shoulder as Will opened the door. The seller winked at me.
‘Sad that you did not find anything ,’ Will said, while we made our way over to Denny’s.
‘Oh well,’ I answered, while I squeezed his hand.
‘Nico!’ Mary smiled widely when she looked at us. ‘Is that your boyfriend?’
‘Yes!’
‘Well, he is adorable.’ She winked and gave us two free hot chocolates. ‘As promised.’
I was not above getting free hot chocolate, so I thanked her and we sat down one booth further from the booth I usually sat with Dionysus. The Denny’s was busier around this time.
Will looked around. ‘There is a Dionysus-vibe here.’
I nodded and took a sip. ‘Oh yes. There always is.’
Will smiled and pulled his legs onto the couch. ‘I think that was a productive day, Nico. I think I’ve got almost everything I need. ’
‘Me too.’ I grinned, which left Will eyeing me suspiciously.
A/N: Fun Fact: there are barely any subways in the Netherlands. We have busses, trains and trams (In some cities), but no subways.
It has never been academically proven that the 25th is Dionysus birthday. There is no proof whatsover. Don’t go around quoting me on that, because it is a Tumblr thing, NOT PROVEN!
Aside from maybe a little general magic, the jewelry is not cursed. Just calming you down there.
Tell me how do you all see Dionysus? Because during writing I have constantly had the young, mythological version in my head. Long black hair, purple eyes, frail, basically not what Rick Riordan described. That is why I have been calling him Dionysus and not Mr. D, because that ain’t him to me.
This isn't really a therapy chapter but shhh it shows Nico is healing.
#nico di angelo#will solace#solangelo#writing#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#fanfic#fanfiction#pjo#pjo fanfic#pjo fanfiction#percy jackson fanfic#percy jackson fanfiction#percy jackson and the olympians fanfiction#percy jackson and the olympians fanfic#hoo#heroes of olympus#dionysus#dionysus pjo#reyna avila ramirez arellano#therapy#hurt/comfort#fluff#solangelo fluff#Christmas
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Costume
This month’s prompt on our discord server? “Costume”, for Hallowe’en, of course! SFW, Beetlejuice/gender neutral reader.
@beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @thewolfisapartofmysoul @janitor-boy @turtlepated @angelicspaceprince
Enjoy! `
You’d never have expected being invited to a Halloween costume party would be such a problem.
A problem shaped like a pestering, jealous ghost-demon named Beetlejuice. “I wanna go! Why can’t I go! You’re leaving me for a whole evening to have fun and I have to sit here and twiddle my thumbs?! You’re going to leave me in the dark in an empty house and I never get to do anything!” His whining was amazing, and not in the good way. “You could take me! We can do a couple’s costume! Like Mickey and Minnie Mouse, or you can be a brick, and I can go as a brick layer!”
You couldn’t help but snort in laughter at his suggestions, as raunchy as the second one had been. “Or, or--you know those horse costumes? We could do that! I could be the back half, because I like holding onto your butt--” “And also because you’re an ass?”
The specter grinned broadly at your jab, thinking that if you were joining in on the idea, his battle was mostly won. “Beej, sweetheart,” you said, patting his cheek, “the answer is no. No one’ll be able to see you, so a couple’s costume just isn’t going to work. I’m sorry.” His expressive face fell. You were pretty sure that if he could control not just the color of his hair but how much it stuck up, it would have drooped in a dramatic, cartoonish way as well.
“Fine,” he muttered sadly. “I mean, people could see me if you just, I don’t know, said my name a few times or whatever, but it’s okay, I’ll just stay here with the dust and spiders and wait in the dark for you to come back . . .” He turned to go, shoulders sloping dejectedly, and shook off your hand when you tried to take his wrist to attempt to make him feel better.
⁂
You actually had no idea what to dress as. Everything was too cutesy or overdone or trite. When watching those Bly Manor and Truth Seekers shows on streaming, however, something clicked into place. You could go as a plague doctor! And not only that, since Beetlejuice bragged about living through the Black Plague, he’d have firsthand knowledge of it and them and could assist making it authentic!
Excitedly, you told him your idea. Although he was still a bit crestfallen, he of course preened a little when you asked for his help and promised to give you all the details he could to make it the best plague doctor around. He went so far as to bring you an authentic beaked mask from . . . somewhere, which he proudly tried to thrust into your hands. Gingerly you accepted it, but tried to keep only the very tips of your fingers in contact with the leather. The clear glass for its eyes made it look more than slightly creepy.
“I’m not going to . . . catch anything from this, right? You didn’t get it out of a festering plague pit . . . ?” “Nah,” he replied dismissively. “I mean, yeah, it’s from a grave, but it’s super old so anything infectious should be gone, I’m pretty sure.”
One thing he’d never claimed to be was a doctor or infectious disease expert, so although you accepted his suspect contribution, you cleaned it inside and out with bleach. And tossed it in the microwave to nuke any possibly remaining microbes, for good measure.
You procured a black coat and hat on your own. Beetlejuice also dug up a black cane--telling you that the doctors used them to poke at people so they could examine them without getting too close--with a silver wolf’s head as a handle. You joked that that was a prop for the Wolfman but accepted it anyway. He also gleefully shoved so many aromatics into the beak it made your eyes water when you finally tried it on. “Thanks, Beej,” you praised as you tried to breathe through your mouth. “Wow. There’s a lot in here, huh? What is that, pine needles?” “Juniper, cloves, and camphor! Some mint too.”
“Uh-huh,” you croaked. You were going to have to grab some tissues to wipe your running nose and watery eyes during this party. “Okay, I’ll see you later.” “Have a good time!” he called after you, and you were glad he’d gotten over his disappointment.
⁂
You knew the people who’d invited you to the party tended to go all out for Halloween, and this year was no exception. It wasn’t Martha Stewart, but it wasn’t professional haunted attraction either. They’d filled their house with lots of skeletons and spiders, pictures that changed based on which angle you looked at them, a soundtrack that low enough to not impede conversations but was filled with creaks, moans, and shrieks, and a buffet spread filled with treats made to look gory.
Everyone was in costume, of course, from those same generic ones available at Halloween stores to homemade cosplay of movie slashers. A hush rippled out like a stone thrown into water when you walked through the front door, even as you called hello to your friends. The party-goers turned to gawk at you.
Gradually people returned to their conversations, and some people returned greetings. You grinned behind your mask; it was good to make an unexpected first impression.
Wandering through the party, you slowly became aware that few people sought you out, and when you tried to engage with others, they were polite but seemed anxious to get away. More than once you caught people glancing over their shoulders at you as they left you. It also became apparent that people gave you a berth as you walked through the house, even at the table spread with food and drink. At first it was kind of cool, like you were this mysterious being, but then it devolved into being a little weird. It had to be because of the aromatics Beetlejuice had stuffed to the brim inside the beak. “I’m sorry about the smell,” you apologized to anyone who would listen. “I just went a little overboard on it being authentic.”
You followed that apology with a little self-depreciating chuckle.
It didn’t make people seem more comfortable around you.
Unable to mingle, feeling like a bit of an outcast--maybe like a real plague doctor--you didn’t stay at the party long. Walking home along streetlight lit sidewalks, you had the same effect on anyone else out: veering to give you room, furtive glances back at you once they were passed.
There was no way you stunk that bad.
Sighing, you slowed down a little. Although there was a chill in the air, you were getting this hat and mask off your face. Maybe you could dump the herbs and whatnot in a garbage can, and reduce the stench. Your nose could use some fresh air anyway.
You happened to stop in front of a closed store’s window. As you grabbed your hat to yank it off your head, you glanced at your reflection and yelped in surprise.
It was you in a plague doctor’s costume, but nightmarishly extreme. Your coat--just a cheap plain coat you found at a thrift store, was smeared along the sleeves and hem with something that looked tacky and black, like old blood. Like your coat had been dragging along the floor of a slaughterhouse, and like you’d been wrist deep in something gory. The rest of the fabric looked moldy and stained and threadbare on the elbows. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your mask--
It was authentic, obviously, but the leather seemed to have molded smoothly to your face. The glass in the eyeholes didn’t show your eyes at all; instead, pinpricks of light, the reflection of an animal’s eyes, shone out.
Everything that looked back at you in the glass looked evil, depraved, and unsettling. The effect was overtly chilling, even as you knew you were looking at yourself.
You ran the rest of the way to your place. “Beetlejuice!” you shouted, throwing open the door so had it bounced back at you from the wall it hit. He sauntered in from the kitchen. “Heya babes! How’d the party go? I was just here, making rice krispie treats--the kitchen’s a bit of a war zone right now--is marshmallow difficult to get off the ceiling?”
“What did you do?!”
“I told you--I was making rice krispie treats--” “I mean what did you do to my costume!”
The specter stopped, and grinned. “Did you like it? Did everyone like it? I think the pièce de résistance was that faint whiff of rot. You really have to concentrate to smell it, but once you do, you can’t unsmell it--”
You gaped at that disgusting revelation and resisted the urge to grab him by the sharp labels of his striped coat and shake him; he’d see that as playtime. Through gritted teeth, you repeated, “What did you do to my costume?!”
“I made it authentic. Just like you asked,” he shrugged innocently.
Squeezing your eyes closed, you counted to ten, actually making it only to four. Your jaw hurt from clenching it so hard, but you didn’t loosen it much to say sarcastically, “And the way my eyes look? Is that authentic? Did plague doctors have creepy shiny eyes?”
He laughed. “Oh. That. Yeah, that was some artistic license. Just to give it some flair.”
A worn coat splattered with unnameable gore, the stench of random herbs plus decay, a mask that was already unsettling and silver eyes for some “flair” . . . this time you did make it to a count of ten, and released the tension in your jaw this time. He was only trying to help. He had provided the expertise you asked for, and he just took it too far because he was nothing if not over the top.
“We should’ve just done the horse costume,” Beetlejuice advised. “Want a rice krispie?”
You glared at him, but couldn’t stay too mad too long. Shrugging out of the coat, you said, “Yes. Take this costume out and bury it or burn it or something. You tricked, and I’ll have a treat.”
“That’s my babe,” he grinned, and took the disgusting outfit off your hands.
fin!
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Can I uh get a "bookshop au" + "flirting under fire" au for sweet pea? your writing is so good and he's my baby please give me more
a/n: yes, friend, you can!!! i know this is.. old, but, hey, what can i say? i’m not apologizing!!
ps, dear chels @the-gargoyle-queen i am so sorry for picking on your ghoulies but it’s just sO EASY
You’d inherited the book shop from your grandmother once she passed, but you never really had a hand in it until you heard about the state Riverdale was in. So, you packed your things and moved back into the loft upstairs, taking a much more direct approach with the store.
You bought books online, through thrift stores - anything you could find to keep the shelves stocked. Eventually, your shop was a safe haven - a Switzerland, if you will. It was a place where anyone from any walk of life could take a seat and escape the world.
There were high schoolers who host homework and study sessions, middle aged moms who gather for book club, and even Southsiders who show up just to get away from the street’s carnage every once and a while.
The tattoo artist from the Pretty Poison Tattoo Parlor stops by once a week for a new book on nature and you’ve managed to have a short conversation with him each time.
You’ve learned his name - Sweet Pea - and that he gets the books to study for his tattoos. A lot of the people who come in are female bikers who want different flowers mixed with skulls and crossbones tattooed on them, so he has to be educated.
“Got another random tattoo booking later this week, gotta learn how to draw…” Sweet Pea shakes his head, holding out the book, “Whatever the hell these are.”
You’re laughing but then the whole room goes silent, cold. You look up just as a car steers off from the road and crashes into your glass windows. Sweet Pea wastes no time in hopping over the counter and grabbing you up, turning so his back is to the car and you’re caged under his arms.
“Shit,” he shakes his head, turning get a glance of the people in the car. “Fuckin’ Ghoulies.”
You blink slowly, your head spinning as your heart beats increasingly faster, “G-Ghoulies? Here?!”
Sweet Pea nods and for the first time you notice the serpent tattoo on his neck. You’ve only known him through the winter, and now that it’s spring, he’s no longer wearing turtle necks or thick jackets to cover his tattoo. You grip him by the flannel, staring up at him, “B-But this isn’t…this is supposed to be a safe space.”
“Seems like the Ghoulies don’t agree with you. Call 911, I’m gonna see if I can do anything.”
He’s gone before you can protest, and you swear you hear the zing of a knife in the air, but you disregard it. Grabbing up your phone, you call the police and shakily tell them all of the details. Luckily there are officers on foot who make it there before too much carnage breaks loose.
They have to grab up Sweet Pea and administer medical treatment and also question him regarding the knife wounds they found slashed into various Ghoulies, but he manages to describe it well enough as self-defense that they release him once they’re finished.
“H-How can I thank you?” you ask, wrapping yourself up in a blanket given to you by the police department.
Sweet Pea shrugs, “I like gettin’ to kick those jackasses around, so I don’t need a thank you.”
You’re smiling and he wants to ask why, but the sound of shattering glass makes him pause. Your frame is practically shaking, and he remembers a conversation where you told him you lived in the book shop, above the store in a one bedroom situation.
“Hey,” he nudges your calf with the toe of his boot, “do you need a place to stay?”
You swallow, blinking the tears away as you realize that your home has been crashed into, your livelihood ruined for an innumerable amount of time. You shake your head despite yourself, “No, I-I think the county is going to give me a bit of an allowance to stay at the motel up the street.”
“That place is infested with cockroaches,” Sweet Pea chuffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you come shack up with me and Toni at Poison? She’s hardly there anyway, now that she’s got that little Northsider girlfriend, so you can take her bed.”
The laugh that bubbles from your lips makes him look you over again - still in your resolve, head held high despite your home being destroyed and your heart and soul crashed by a set of pathetic Ghoulies trying to make a name for themselves.
“I don’t know that your roommate would like you giving up her bed,” you sigh, glancing up at him through thick, wet lashes. “Really, it’s okay.”
Sweet Pea shrugs, “Well, it’s always available, okay? We’ve got a pull out couch too, if you change your mind.”
-
Well, you do change your mind.
Sweet Pea is all but not surprised to see you on the doorstep of the Poison Parlor later that same night.
“Cockroaches?”
“Cockroaches.”
He’s laughing as he lets you inside. There are a couple of late night customers and you can hear the buzzing of tattoo guns as Sweet Pea walks you through the parlor and up the stairs.
You’re making yourself comfortable on the pull out couch when he turns to go back downstairs, but you stop him, “H-Hey, Sweet Pea?”
“Hm?” he looks over his shoulder to acknowledge you.
Your whole face goes beet red, but you stand to your full height and say it anyway, “I-uh, I want you to teach me how to defend myself.”
There’s a silence that hangs in the room and you wonder for a moment if he thinks you’re crazy. Of course he wouldn’t train a weakling Northsider like you, even if your shop was Switzerland for his Southside buddies. What the Ghoulies had done, you couldn’t have stopped anyway.
“L-Listen, I just, I want to be able to stand up for myself. It’s not like I can stop a crashing car, but I can punch a guy in the gut or keep myself from getting snatched off the street,” you start rambling, using your hands as you talk, your voice growing in octaves the longer he lets you speak.
“Hey,” Sweet Pea grasps you by the wrist, “I get it.”
There’s a mutual understanding that passes between the two of you, quiet but determined. He releases you and walks back down to the parlor, leaving you to get settled in.
And that’s how it starts.
When your bookstore is back up and running six weeks later, you’re practically a boxing prodigy. Sweet Pea has taught you the simplest of moves, and you can catch him off guard every once and a while. He has the crooked nose to prove it.
The tension between the two of you has grown as well. He’s given you a small tattoo that you’ve been dreaming about since high school, and you’ve taught him words and jargon that he never dreamed could be real. You spend almost every waking moment of the day together, between training to grow stronger and smarter, the both of you have developed a routine.
The next time you spot a band of Ghoulies, you and Sweet Pea are helping to close up the tattoo parlor. You’re taking the trash out in the back alley, and when a snap resounds against the brick walls, your heart drops into your stomach.
You swallow the lump in your throat, toss the garbage into the bin, and turn, fists held tight at your sides.
A taunt passes your lips and then the Ghoulie on the right jumps towards you with a knife held tight in his grip. You spot his weak form and step downward, using his weight to roll him over your shoulders and toss him against the dumpster.
“What?” you laugh, “Scared now?”
The other lets out a grunt before slashing at you with a makeshift shank. He looks like a feral animal - teeth bared and knuckles white as saliva gathers at the corners of his mouth. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the dramatic gang member, but when he tries to kick you in the face, you grab his ankle and twist, sending him soaring over your shoulder to lay unconscious with his Ghoulie counterpart.
There’s a loud noise from inside the parlor and your mind starts racing - Sweet Pea. Sure, he’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but your heart still picks up the pace as you run toward the door.
He’s got two on either side of him, and another set of three in the back rummaging through the money drawer and supplies. You grab the nearest thing to you, a case of ink, and throw it against the back counter. It pegs one of the Ghoulies in the head, the other two turning their attention to you now.
“Th-They’re on something!” Sweet Pea shouts even though his throat is currently in the grasp of one of the brawnier Ghoulies. You laugh, shaking your head as the two from behind the counter charge at you, “You don’t say?”
Sweet Pea shoots you a glare and you barely have time to shrug before you’re back in attack mode - focused on the two grown men in front of you. Their weight and their obvious lack of focus is something you can prey on, just as you did the two in the alley.
“So, do I get a raise or something?” you call between punches, landing a kick into one of their chests. Sweet Pea now has one of them in a headlock, the other crumpled against the wall, twitching as he tries to stand back up.
“Funny, I didn’t know I paid you,” he grunts, dropping the bulky guy to the ground once he stops struggling.
You stumble backward, but he catches you, “You don’t.”
“Maybe I should start.”
The duality of the phrase makes your spine shiver, but you’re back to action before you can contemplate how much you want to kiss him. You get a good, solid punch into one of their faces, turning to hit the other in the sternum.
“Finally putting those lessons to good use!” Sweet Pea winks at you from across the room where he’s got the Ghoulie held up by the throat on the wall.
Him holding someone by the throat, blood on his nose and knuckles, should not turn you on the way that it does. Either way, it makes you smirk. Your attention falters just long enough for the smaller of the two Ghoulies to land a punch to your jaw.
You seethe in pain, gripping at your face as you stumble backward. All you can see now is red, blinding rage like a filter in your vision. You dig your fingernails into your fists so hard you think you’ve drawn blood, “Oh, that does it.”
They swing at you again, both moving sloppily as whatever drug that has tainted their system begins to wear off. You fight them both off until you hear Sweet Pea stalk across the room, his combat boots making noise as he stomps towards you.
“Did good,” he grunts, grabbing one of them by the arm to yank them away from you, dealing with him on his own. Sweet Pea struggles, taking a shot to the eye, but you make eye contact with him just as you say, “I had a good teacher.”
You swear you see a smile on his face, but you can’t pay him much mind as the Ghoulie tries to stab at you with the pocket knife they’re holding. You slam their wrist against the tattoo table, the knife clattering to the ground a few feet away.
Now both goons are crawling on the floor, and you take a step toward Sweet Pea with adrenaline pumping through your veins, “Do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?”
“Hell yeah,” he manages to get the words out before pulling you to him for a harsh kiss. His hands are on your waist and your palms find purchase against his flannel.
You feel a feeble arm wrap around your ankle and you snap your knee forward to kick him in the face, eliciting a moan from the perpetrator. Sweet Pea’s palm drifts to your jeans, tucking into your pocket to anchor you to him for just a moment longer.
“You call, I’ll tie,” he pants as he pulls away, the high wearing off as he looks into your eyes. “Sound good?”
You nod, releasing your death grip on his shirt, “There’s two more in the alley.”
The shining admiration in his eyes does little to quell the churning of your stomach and you find yourself wanting to tackle him right here and now. Instead, you turn and head towards the parlor phone, not missing the gentle tap he gives your backside as you walk away.
“Sheriff Jones? Yeah, it’s me again…”
-
a/n: i hope that was enough flirting under fire!
taggin: @the-gargoyle-queen @theangriestpea @sweets-rivervixen @southsidearchive @cactiem
#sweet pea#sweet pea x reader#sweet pea imagine#sweet pea one shot#sweet pea fanfic#sweet pea fanfiction#riverdale#my writing#sweet pee riverdale
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