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bratbarzal · 10 days ago

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Let It Happen (LH43) 1/2

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

WC: 17k

If you're ready, all I mean is we could go, I've never craved someone's attention as much as yours.

General Warnings: an almost unbearable amount of sarcasm and snark, even more idiotic shenanigans, many affectionate empty threats of murder/violence, fluff, mentions of golf 🤢, cursing and I'm pretty sure that's it for this half

A/N: in line with the general consensus lmao this has been split, part two will be posted as soon as it's finished (lol) but it's best read as one whole fic, it isn't a multi-part situation really!! it was originally supposed to be my submission for the eras tour fic challenge (hence the graphic I'm too attached to to change) but took a different direction to the song I was given, and I missed the deadline, and I pretty much listened to the secret of us exclusively while writing this whole thing. also dropping an overwhelmingly summery fic in december might actually be my brand. keep your eyes peeled for a christmas fic in july.

very special shoutout to shea @sleepretreat I made a random comment one day that luke gives seth cohen energy, and she fanned that flame like a full time job. ily shea!! I hope this lives up to any expectations and I owe a lot to your instigating!!

AS ALWAYS!!! never proofread!! I'll probably get around to it when the thought of a spelling mistake keeps me awake at night. and also!! please let me know what you think I am like a teeny tiny little plant that can only thrive under the constant shower of validation and you don't want me to wither and die do you? (I’m kidding) (I’m not)

You kind of, sort of, think you might hate summer.

You haven’t always felt this way, though. Growing up, it had always been your favourite time of the year.

No school? Check.

Going on vacation, sometimes multiple, all expenses covered by your parents? Double check.

Getting to do all the cool things you don’t have time for in the school year with all your friends? Concerts, festivals, beach days, bonfires on the evenings. Check, check and check again.

But 4 years ago, your whole world as you knew it was torn apart, and summers have never been the same, since.

A season that was once filled with light and companionship, never ending plans and joviality, became darker - isolated, getting yourself out of the house even if everyone else was busy, driving just to drive and making the best of your own company.

School ended up becoming your escape, especially since you had started college - your studies and the chaos of Greek life distracting you from the calamitous state of your home life, making new friends that became like family and sticking to them like glue, where possible, clingy and possessive to the point of ruin, almost - and so the lack of it in the summers now actually sends you into some sort of warped spiral.

It’s manageable in the winter and spring, the breaks no longer than a few weeks at a time, but going home for summer is somewhat of a nightmare.

It’s hard to go back, hard to ignore the mess your mind has become when it’s just you and your mother - or, you, your mother and whatever bottle of pinot she’s 3 glasses deep into at any given time of the day - and you’re sat in a house that’s a cold reminder of the warmth that once filled it.

But when Ellie - your best friend since moving to college, the girl who took the sister part of sorority sister to the next level at all possible opportunities over the years - found out you’d put your name down to be the caretaker for your sorority house instead of going home, she had put her foot down on your summertime sadness session.

Which is how you end up moving into her family home - spending the first few weeks integrating yourself into their routine while trying to grip desperately onto some form of your own - trying not to get too used to the feeling of such a big family when you know it won’t be forever.

You braid her little sister’s hair everyday, kick a soccer ball around with her little brother when he needs someone to stand in goal, wash the dishes with her mom, talk sports with her dad, and before long, you blend like a chameleon into their dynamic.

You pick up a summer job at the country club to cling back onto your independence. Your commute provides the solitude and quiet you‘ve grown accustomed to in the years before, a bus journey through town with headphones on, watching the scenery and admiring the greenery until you get to work, donning your navy blue polo and tucking your little notepad into your hip apron as you serve tables at the clubhouse restaurant and bar.

It’s a much needed escape from Ellie, if you’re honest.

You love that girl with all your heart, appreciate her housing you more than you’ll ever be able to say, but if you have to hear her sit and mope about how hopelessly in love she is with Jack Hughes for even a second longer, you’re going to vomit. Or scream. Or both.

Jack and Ellie grew up together - their families close, Ellie’s dad best friends with Jack’s uncle, or something - and she’s been into him since he had teeth missing - a point she loves to hammer home when it comes to you always listing that as one of his (many, if it’s up to you) cons. Considering his job, and the fact he already lost one, not too long ago, a toothless boyfriend seems like a massive ick, if you’re honest.

But Ellie is beyond reason when it comes to him. She worships the ground he walks on - talks about him non-stop, messages him every day, regales you with stories you, awfully, but realistically, couldn’t care less about - and it’s the only real problem about living with her.

Even beyond the summer, you two had shared a room your first two years in college, still live in the same house - and it’s a year round problem.

But being unable to escape, having your days tied to close to hers, and knowing that it’s bound to be worse with proximity, Jack back in Michigan for the summer, himself, she’s starting to drive you up the wall.

It wouldn’t bother you if you had never met Jack, but the two of you don’t exactly get along. He’s rude, and self-absorbed, and had looked down on you the first time he ever laid eyes on you, and you really shouldn’t let it get to you, but you do - the thought that your best friend is in love with an asshole, and that she won’t let you hear the end of it.

Won’t stop whining about how he’ll never feel the same, or that she can’t handle another summer of biting her tongue, of being around him, feeling the way she does, and not being able to do anything about it.

She deserves better.

Ellie has a heart of gold, and she deserves someone who handles it with care. If Jack Hughes doesn’t like her back, that’s his loss - but you’re kind of getting sick of telling her that.

Getting through a whole summer of it is going to be hard, you think, but it’s better than the alternative. Better than being entirely alone. So you put on a brave face, use work as your escape in the same way you usually do with school, and avoid blowing your top for as long as you can, suffering through the late nights and heart to hearts where Jack is the sole topic of discussion, and bask in the good stuff.

In the chaos of her siblings, in the closeness of her family, and the way they’ve welcomed you with open arms.

This summer could be okay, you’ve just got to give it a chance.

Luke Hughes loves summer.

He loves being back home in Michigan, spending his days out on the lake, or making the trip out to parade around Ann Arbor, catching up with all his college buddies, making the rounds at all the UMich sporting events he now gets a VIP pass to thanks to his last name.

The routine of it all is familiar, and warming, and it restores a sense of normality that playing in the NHL for the past year has so brutally ripped from him, already.

He had enjoyed starting his summer overseas - making the team for the world championships and competing beyond the abysmal end to his rookie season - had enjoyed the time away from his brothers, if he’s honest. Quinn and the Canucks making it a few rounds into the playoffs, and Jack back home recovering from getting surgery on his shoulder - and it’s the latter he needed the reprieve from.

He does love living with his brother.

Jack looks after him in ways he’ll never really be able to make it up to him for. He always has, Quinn has too, but ever since Luke got drafted to the Devils, Jack has helped him adjust to the chaos of his career without much fuss or hardship.

And he really is grateful for that.

But, God, can he be annoying.

Especially when it comes to his infatuation with his best friend, Ellie.

Jack and Ellie have always been close - despite the fact she’s Luke’s age - and grew up thick as thieves, spending summers together, especially when the family moved to Michigan, and Ellie’s family were just on the other side of town.

He’s always been obsessed with her, even if it hasn’t always been love - but these last few years have been different. Like a switch flipped in his head when Jack saw what Ellie was like when he came to visit Luke in his freshman year of college.

A version of Ellie that was no longer just his - no longer exclusive to their summer bubble, and lived in a world beyond lounging by the lake and hanging out with the Hughes family.

A version of Ellie who liked partying, liked schmoozing and charming everybody she came into contact with, liked being the centre of everyone else’s attention, not just Jack’s.

And it’s that version of Ellie that has driven Luke’s brother crazy, which has, in turn, started to drive Luke crazy. He talks about her non-stop, and it was those much needed weeks away in Czechia that almost had Luke forgetting just how stupid his brother has gotten about the whole thing.

Until he came home to Michigan, and Jack, in all the commotion with his shoulder, with ending his season early and starting his summer off alone, has worked himself into such a stupor about the whole thing that merely a week into his return, he has driven Luke up the wall.

He’s grumpy, all the time - which leads to him being snarky, all the time. He huffs and puffs around the house so much Luke is starting to think he might need an inhaler, and he really can’t take any more.

Not when he’s making such a show of his irritation, stomping around with heavy feet and slamming doors that don’t need to be shut in the first place.

“What crawled up your ass and died there?” Luke frowns as he follows Jack into the kitchen upon his return from therapy, holding out for the doors he swings open with a little too much vigour so that they don’t swing back into his brother’s slinged-shoulder. “I thought the physio is going alright?”

“It is,” Jack huffs, storming over to the fridge and yanking it open, the jars and bottles in the door clanking together in a way that makes Luke cringe. “I’m fine.”

“Tell that to all the hinges you’re testing the limits of.”

“Don’t start with me, Luke, I’m not in the mood.”

“You just said you’re fine.” Luke rolls his eyes as he starts to scroll through his group chat with his friends from college, trying to check who said they might be free today to get him out of this vicious circle.

“It’s nothing.”

“Clearly not.” It’s interactions like this that confirm to Luke just how annoying Jack has become - because what reason does he have to be so evasive? Luke is handing him the opportunity to air out his grievances on a silver platter, and he’s rather slam cupboards and create creases in his forehead from frowning 24/7.

“Fine, it’s Ellie.”

Luke wishes he never bothered asking, although he has been wondering why he’s been seeing way less of her already this summer. He had figured Ellie was away with family until he saw her at the gas station the other night - had watched from the car as Jack had what seemed like a heated conversation by the entrance.

“She’s refusing to hang out with me.”

“Has she said why?” Luke asks, although he doesn’t really care. He’s just asking to get it out of the way in the hopes that Jack talking about it might lighten the load, might make his own life a little easier.

It’s the bitter muttering of your name that captures Luke’s full attention, his neck audibly cracking at the speed in which his head shoots up, no longer caring what could possibly be going on with the boys in the group chat.

“She isn’t going back to whatever fiery hell pit it is that she comes from for the summer, and she’s staying with Ellie’s family, therefore Ellie isn’t staying with us.”

Luke hasn’t heard your name in a while. Not since he left college last year, not since he got caught up in the whirlwind life in the NHL, when a schoolboy crush on a girl he interacted with once in his entire college career became the least of his worries.

But one utterance of it has his spine straightening, just like it would have done just over a year ago.

You’re in Michigan. You’re at Ellie’s, on the other side of town. You’re barely two degrees of separation from him.

“Why can’t Ellie bring her here?” Luke asks, throat dry and voice breaking so subtly that he hopes Jack doesn’t notice. That could be fun. Would make up for the hell his brother has been putting him through since he got here.

Maybe a little glorious sunshine might finally get you to notice his existence. He wouldn’t mind third wheeling Jack and Ellie if you were there, too. It would give him the perfect opportunity to prove he’s worthy of your attention - too shy and too scared to do so, back in college, but he’s different, now. Confident, almost. More sure of himself.

“She hates me.” Jack huffs, “Last time we met she was giving me the stink eye all night.”

And of course it would be his brother to ruin his plans, yet again. You’ll probably hate him, too - a hatred so strong for Jack that it seeps through his entire bloodline, because Luke of all people knows he can be annoying like that.

“Trust me, she probably doesn’t care enough to hate you,” Luke scoffs, not realising the spool of information he’s just given Jack to unravel.

“You know her?”

“We had a class together. I know of her.”

Not the truth, but not exactly a lie.

Luke knows a lot about you. It’s borderline creepy, the observations he can still remember, even after so long.

He knows you like only like coffee if it’s iced, had seen you with too many clear plastic cups to count, had watched plump lips chewing at straws by the time you had finished the drink. He had even, one time, tried to zoom in on a picture of your order printed on the side in one of his many states of delusion where he had been trying to build himself up to ask you out.

He knows you can hold your own in an argument, had watched you debate with the best of them in your business comms class, has watched you shoot down most guys that approach you with a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, and has watched you take down a frat guy or two, usually in defence of your sorority sisters - who Luke noticed you’re the most protective of.

He knows you match your perfume to the colour of your outfit, had notice you smelled citrusy like lemons in yellow, floral like roses in pink, sweet like candy in purple, and clean like fresh cotton in blue.

He knows the pieces of hair that frame your face curl when wet from the rain. Knows you used to volunteer at the pool on the weekends it was open to the kids of the community, would teach them how to swim. He knows you listen to Taylor Swift and has heard you humming just about every song of hers he knows.

But he doesn’t really know you - not on the level Jack is assuming, when his eyes widen and hope flashes across his crystal irises.

“You know how I’m your favourite brother?”

“No,”

“And I let you live with me all year?”

“My name’s on the lease.”

“Maybe you could talk to her for me?”

Luke sighs, shoulders heavy and eyes rolling practically to the back of his head. “I already told you, I don’t really know her like that.”

“C’mon, you could at least try! I’m dying here, Luke! She’s hogging all of Ellie’s time, and she won’t give me the time of day if I try!”

If only Jack knew how much time you’d ever given Luke, he wouldn’t be asking him such an absurd request.

You’re so out of his league, it isn’t even funny. He probably couldn’t convince you to light a candle in a power cut, much less to give his annoying brother a shot to prove himself.

“You’re wasting your time, Jack,” Luke responds, “I’m gonna meet Dylan at the club. No, you can’t come.”

And by the time Luke makes it out to his car, he’s relieved to have ditched that conversation, entirely. He knows what’s waiting when he gets home, what his brother is going to be like for the next few months to come, but a temporary relief is all he needs.

He had already been planning on getting a few late morning holes in at the club, and meeting up with Dylan had been a white lie, needing some alone time away from Jack’s incessant whining to think about how he was going to survive the summer - and seeing you on your break, perched on the edge of the fountain in the courtyard by the clubhouse bar, basking in the sun and talking with your co-worker, he feels like he might have just struck gold.

Since when do you work here?

He supposes since you decided to spend your summer with Ellie’s family - it only makes sense. Ellie doesn’t live too far from the club - not as close as the lake house, but closer than Ann Arbor, at least. She’d worked in the club shop last summer, even when Jack insisted he’d pay for whatever she needed while she was staying with them - had said it was nice to pass the time with something else while they all went off doing whatever - and he assumes you’re doing the same.

It’s the first time he’s seen you in a while, outside of coming across your pictures on his Instagram feed occasionally, or the flash of your figure in Ellie’s stories.

He had thought that, after the year he’s had, he’d be over schoolboy crushes like this - would be over the way his breath catches just at the sight of you, over the way the hairs on the back of his neck prick up and stand to attention, over the way his throat goes dry as he watches your eyes crinkle from afar, watches your lips curve up into a heart-stopping grin.

But it’s like he’s picked up straight from where he left off at the end of his college career, pining after you from afar with hearts in his eyes and feet that start to shuffle at just the thought of approaching you.

If he’s going to do this, though, he needs to be clever about it, he thinks.

Approaching you on your break, limited to the amount of time he can use to put his point across, wasting yours, doesn’t seem like something that will work.

Which is how he finds himself bypassing you completely and walking straight into the bar, offering a friendly nod to the guy stood at the front of house, and letting him point him toward the right section to be served in.

It isn’t long before you’re in front of him, sidling up to his booth, and he had almost forgotten how pretty you are up close. Hair clipped up with loose strands framing your face, chewing at your plump bottom lip as you scribble on your notepad to get your pen to work. And your honeyed voice settling deep in the pit of his stomach, warmth spreading throughout as you introduce yourself, like he has no clue who you are, and tell him you’ll be his server, “What can I get for you?”

“Five minutes of your time?”

The Luke that spent his college years obsessing over you might have stuttered - his voice might have broke, squeaked or choked in your presence - but while his throat does feel a little dry, he’s able to maintain his cool now, even when you look up from your scribblings to meet his eye. Maybe he can do this. Maybe he has matured.

His heart might jump in his chest, his mouth might tingle, his spine might stiffen, but he holds your gaze, hoping if you see a reflection of confidence that you might give him the time of day.

He’s seen you interact with guys before, has familiarised himself with the ten-foot walls you have in place, has seen others fold and try find a long way around, but he thinks that maybe matching your energy is the way to break through.

Who doesn’t love a shortcut?

Your eyes narrow back at him as pouted lips form around a response, looking him up and down before tilting your head, and coming back with, “I all of a sudden feel the need to inform you we do have security here,” you point the tip of your pen to the entrance, where he was greeted on the way in. “I meant a drink.”

“Water’s fine,” his gaze flickers to the movement of your wrist as you click the other side of your pen, not even writing it down. “Maybe with a side of conversation?”

“I’ll go get your water,” you offer a smile, and the insincerity of it does little to cool his bravado, even if you head off with mutterings of why do I always get the creeps?

He watches you as you make your way over to the bar, not creep-like whatsoever, and he channels the nerves that sneak up on him, now that you’re distanced, through fiddling with his fingers on the table, pinching at the tips of them when you glance back over your shoulder, probably telling the girl behind the bar just how lucky you were to once again get the weirdo in your section.

It surprises him how little he cares, possessing more of your attention now than he ever has before, and if he could tell the Luke from two years ago, who spent every shared Principles of Marketing class ritualistically watching you chew on the end of your pen, that he’d be able to make eye contact without dribbling and breaking out into full body sweats, he’d have lost his mind.

He embodies a strange level of dislocated arrogance that manifests itself in his body language, sinking into the booth with arms outstretched across the back, a dangerous smirk teasing the corner of his mouth when you return, placing a pitcher of water down on the table and a glass with ice.

“I’m Luke,” he tells you, placing a hand on his chest and doing his best to ignore the thudding he feels beneath it. “Hughes. Jack’s brother,” and when you look back over to him with a raised brow, he adds, “Ellie’s Jack.”

“And who’s Ellie?” You ask with a tilt of your head, your voice dripping in teasing sarcasm.

“Funny,” he quips, biting back the urge to call you what he actually means. He can hardly call you cute, you’d probably pour that water straight over him. “I went to UMich, we had a couple classes together.”

Your eyes narrow again, and he knows it’s an intimidation tactic, a way to make him feel smaller than he’s acting, shrinking him down to a version of himself you can stamp your authority on, but he finds himself being resilient for once, carrying on like he isn’t affected.

He is. Massively, in fact. Just not in the way you probably want. Your indifference drives him in a way that presses into his spine, an inner voice pleading, notice me, I’m breaking through!

“Bauman’s class, Business Comms, you sat in the second row, I sat in the third, you dropped your pencil one time and I-,”

“I know who you are.”

So he’s been yapping on at you for no reason? Fantastic.

He can’t let his momentum slip, though, so he forces the corners of his lips into a victorious smile, and counters, “So you know I’m not a creep.”

“You literally memorised my seat in a class from 2 years ago, so…”

“I have a good memory,” he’s quick to defend, fighting the urge to let his eyes linger on your pouted lips.

“Right,” you roll your eyes, “What is it you want, again?”

“I came to talk about Jack and Ellie.” He nods to the other side of the booth, and has to roll his shoulders so that his chest doesn’t inflate with misplaced hubris when you shuffle into the seat with a huff, discarding your notepad to the side as you level him with another raised brow.

“What about ‘em?”

“About how they’re hopelessly in love with each other and doing nothing about it.”

“You got hopeless right. What’s that got to do with us?”

Us. Oh, he likes that.

“I’m thinking they need a little shove in the right direction. And maybe we could be the shovers.”

You presses your lips together in faux-apology, a lopsided, patronising, adorable frown taking over your expression. “No can do, I don’t shove, I’m a pacifist.”

“A nudge, then?”

He isn’t giving up easy, no matter how much sarcasm you try to throw his way. You wouldn’t have sat down if there wasn’t something about this situation that irks you, too.

If Ellie is being only half as annoying as Jack is, he knows that you’re having a bad time of it. And you’re supposed to spending her summer with her - it can’t be easy, having your friend constantly pining over someone and refusing to do anything about it, if anything, making it your problem.

“Are you here to eat or annoy me?”

“Both,” he smiles, “I just figured a problem shared is a problem solved, and all.”

“How profound.”

“C’mon, you sat down, you at least agree they’re into each other, and I know you’re staying with her this year, so I know you’ve been getting the same grief I have.”

“I’ve been on my feet 4 hours, I wouldn’t look too deep into me sitting down.”

“Jack’s been moping around about her for years, I can’t listen to it anymore, he’s all, she’ll never like me back, this, and, I’ll never find a girl like her, that,” he whines, imitating his brother’s voice in the most annoying, high pitched tone he can muster, “I can’t take one more breakdown of her snap stories, especially not if it’s all summer if she’s not gonna be staying over, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“How supportive,” the sarcasm in your bite does little to hide the beginnings of your smile, your glare softening into what he hopes is the start of some sort of bond, a shared feeling of exasperation. Finding your footfall in common grounds.

“It’s relentless, we can’t go a single conversation anymore without him bringing her up,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, finally giving in to all the ways this is starting to grate on him. “I don’t get why neither of them do anything.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, too, relenting a little. “She talks about him so much it kind of makes me nauseous.”

“How supportive,” he mimics, nerve endings set alight when your eyes meet his over the table, and narrow in a different way, almost appreciative, almost respectable.

“Can it, Hughes,” you scoff, “Me even entertaining this conversation right now is support enough, I’ve had it in my ear for months about how she doesn’t know how she’ll make it through another summer.”

“That’s what I’m saying. If we can get them together this summer, then we’re both better off. No more whining or crying or earaches for either of us.”

“I’d hope you didn’t make your way out here with the mere promise of no more earaches, Luke.” He tries not to preen at the way you say his name. “What’s in it for me?”

“You and Ellie can stay at our lake house.” He suggests, straightening up before he leans onto the table, elbows extending so that he can rest on them, “It’s closer to the club than her family’s place, it’s gotta be better than having her siblings running around you all the time, I can even drive you to work when I’m free, if you want?”

You blink at him slowly, as if to say, and? “So I can stay at your glorified frat house, and you can be my chauffeur?” You ask with an unimpressed raise of your brow, before letting out a humourless scoff of, “What more could a girl want to do with her summer?

“What do you want?” He asks, leaning further forward.

“To go back to work and not worry about strange guys propositioning me, funnily enough.”

Luke laughs, a deep, breathy laugh that rises from the depths of his chest and comes alive in an almost-bark, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to his mouth when it comes out.

This is fun.

There’s no way he’s letting you leave this table without agreeing - just the thought of one more singular interaction keeping him on his toes.

“Why don’t we make it interesting, then?”

“It’s about time you tried.” The quiver of your lip tells him everything he needs to know - and that’s without the entertained glint in your eye that accompanies it. You’re enjoying this, just as much.

“We could make a competition out of it.”

“A competition?” You ask, with a curious tilt of your head.

There it is, he thinks. Interest: piqued. He practically has you in the palm of his hand. Who would ever have thought, the way to a sorority girl’s heart would be a friendly little wager?

“Whoever actually gets them together, wins.”

It’s all he can think of in the moment - petulant and part-planned, but it seems to be enough.

“Wins what?” You lean onto your elbows, your gaze levelling his as he mirrors your positioning, having to slouch a little further forward in his seat to meet your pretty eyes.

“Whatever you want.” He doesn’t intend it to come out as low as it does, doesn’t realise how close the two of you have gotten over the table, but he sees the flicker of something cross your features as your head tilts again, eyes still locked on his as yours begin to narrow, still just as pretty even when they’re glaring at him.

“It’s what you want that concerns me.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it,” he jibes, watching the way your lips part in preparation of another witty comeback. “What do you say?” He asks, not giving you the chance, seeing the way it makes your skin crawl that you weren’t quick enough, for once. “Are you in?”

You heave out a sigh, shoulders slumping - a tell-tale sign that you’re about to acquiesce - and Luke starts to feel his chest puff out in victory. This feels like a shut-out. It feels like the best performance of his life.

“You’re gonna make me regret this, aren’t you?”

“Oh definitely,” he smirks, eyes tracking you as you lean back into the booth, retreating from him in defeat, a hand running through your hair as he promises, “You’ll warm up to me soon enough, though.”

“I can’t see that happening.”

“I can,” he shrugs, leaning back too. “I’ve been told I’m inevitable.”

Luke can remember, like it was yesterday, the first time he ever saw you.

Freshman year, the week he moved into his dorm at Michigan, Jack had sent him across campus to check in on how Ellie was getting on. He had arrived with some extravagant gift basket in tow, plastic wrapped, a giant blue bow tied around the top and an assortment of snacks inside, and was left knocking for at least five minutes before you showed up.

“Please tell me you’re not another stripper-gram.”

If his throat hadn’t gone so dry all of a sudden, he thinks he would have had more wits about him to have questioned the use of another - a concept that had stuck in his head for weeks until he caught wind of a story of pledges for Pike being sent around campus and forced to lure girls to their house through way of humiliating song.

But God, you were pretty.

Siren eyes narrowed toward him, glossy lips pouted pensively, long lashes blinking impatiently as you awaited some kind of response that didn’t come in the form of an open, drooling mouth.

“I’m Luke.”

“Right.” You had sighed, pretty eyes rolling at him. “You’re blocking my door."

“Oh, I’m-,” he stuttered, immediately stepping to the side for you to come forward and insert your key into the lock. “Does Ellie live here?” He asked, confusion etched into his features as he watched you swing the door open, turning in your place to look him over again.

“Depends who’s asking.”

“I’m Luke.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I know her.”

“Clearly.”

“This is her basket.”

“Does she need to sign for it?”

“No, I-,”

“I’ll make sure she gets it, thanks, Lu!”

And when you had taken the basket from his hands, he had been too distracted by the way your skin brushed against his to properly respond, or worry if you had called him that as a nickname or had already forgotten his name, entirely.

He then spent days thinking about you, looking for you - at parties, in the campus coffee shop, online, despite not knowing your name - trying to commit to memory the way your eyes had sparkled when looking his way, until his first Business Communications class.

He had been a little early, first week nerves playing out and his constant craving for positive validation coming to the forefront, and was watching the door waiting for the professor to arrive. He had been slouched in his seat, chin in the palm of his hand, foot tapping rhythmically against the floor, and he had almost given himself whiplash when you walked in.

He learned your name from there, learned a lot just from watching you in that class, but never really captured your attention.

And if the Luke that has been driving you to work every few days, who has been living with you for the past two weeks - who sits around the same dining table, laughs at the same jokes cracked when you’re all lounging around the house, sits out under the same sun, drinks from the same carton of orange juice in the morning - could tell the Luke that sat pining after you all that time, all the little ways in which he’s captured your attention lately, he’d probably have an aneurysm.

When you and Ellie moved in, Luke had been the only one allowed to touch your stuff - and there’s a part of him that knows it was mainly because you enjoyed watching him work like a packhorse, hauling your cases up the stairs and dropping them in front of you with a huff, but there’s a larger, more delusional part that thinks you preferred him to the others, maybe even trusted him.

He’s taking credit for how quick you’ve adapted to the dynamic of the house, too. Of all the different faces coming in and out - Quinn’s friends, Jack’s friends, his friends, sometimes even his parents. If you’re around, you’re pleasant. You abide by house rules, some of them stupid, but set by the brothers so long ago that they just work now - like no phones outside of your rooms so that you can be more present. You insert yourself comfortably into conversations, you form your own relationships with everyone - you and Quinn trade book recommendations, you and Jack bicker while Ellie mediates. You do your fare share of chores - laundry, dishes, cooking, even.

And he’s so caught up in just sharing space, just being around you, even, that for those first couple weeks, he forgets why you even agreed to be there in the first place.

At least, he forgets the incentive part - because he watches mindlessly as you interfere in Jack and Ellie’s dynamic, without a care in the world for the fact that it means he’s losing.

He watches you push one of them out of the way to claim whatever seat at the table or in the car forces them to sit beside each other. He watches you taunt Jack to just the right point where Ellie interferes, coos at him protectively and he melts into her affections. He watches you agree to plans he knows you wouldn’t in a million years follow along with, just to get them together - and all he can do is admire how easy you make it seem.

He admires when you come out wakeboarding with the group, when you let him fasten you into a vest and don’t flinch when his fingertips brush against bare skin. Watches you bite your tongue over the fact you just got your hair blow dried - a fact you have no problems relaying back to him when he drives you to work the next day, and you’re muttering in his passenger seat about lake water giving you frizz - just so you’re not dampening the mood.

And when you agree to tag along to the golf course on your day off, despite the fact it’s so close to work if could be considered triggering, and you stick by Luke’s side so that Ellie can feign some sort of incompetence until Jack takes it upon himself to correct her form.

You stand by Luke’s side, the two of you watching with mirrored expressions of almost-disgust as Jack wraps his arms around Ellie’s body, and send a shiver down his spine when you lean in for only him to hear as you say, “I’d ask if you’ve put any more thought into what you want out of our bet, but I so have this in the bag.”

The bet.

Luke hasn’t thought about it since that day in the restaurant, if he’s honest, but he had known what he wanted then.

He’s hardly going to tell you, now, though.

If he’s ever going to take you out on a date, he doesn’t really want to force your hand - not that he has a chance, he’s fallen so behind with this Jack and Ellie thing that it isn’t even funny.

He needs to up his game, if only for the fact that you’ll no doubt catch on to his lack of efforts, soon.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he taunts, because it’s what he does best, “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“And how long do you plan on keeping them up there?” You call him out so easily, tilting your head when his eyes meet yours, mischief highlighted by the sunshine that speckles in your irises.

“Maybe I’m luring you into a false sense of security,” he shrugs, “Maybe I’m letting you do all the heavy lifting so I can swoop in when those weak arms get tired.” He pokes at your side, basking in the way you scowl like you pertain any sort of threat to him.

He has you figured out, by now.

“I didn’t have you pegged as being lazy, Hughes.”

“You spend a lot of time thinking about me, huh?”

“You wish,” you scoff, shoving when he dares to get too close, and it’s when Luke is biting back a full-blown grin that Ellie comes back over.

“This sun is crazy, I think I left the sunscreen in the locker room and Jack’s nose is going all red, would you come back with me?”

You smile sweetly at your best friend and agree, only glaring at Luke over Ellie’s shoulder when she’s distracted with saying her brief, temporary goodbyes to Jack, and once you’ve turned and made your way over to the cart, he lets his eyes linger on your figure as you retreat.

The soft sway of your ponytail, the expanse of smooth skin along your legs, he’s completely hypnotised, and he needs to pull himself together, he thinks.

He tries to regain focus as he and Jack work their way through the next couple of holes, caddying their clubs around without the cart, and chatting mindlessly until Jack sighs heavily, like he’s been waiting to bring something up.

“I want to take Ellie out on the boat tomorrow,” He states as Luke tees up, resting on his club as he squints against the sun to watch his little brother, “Just the two of us, so we can talk about stuff.”

“Sounds riveting,” the disinterest in Luke’s tone is amplified by the lack of attention he’s giving overall, looking out across the green and trying to measure his swing before he takes it. “Have fun.”

“I was thinking I’d need your help for it to work.”

“I’m not being your boat-butler again,” Luke scoffs, mind immediately going to all the times their parents would make Jack take Luke out with him and his friends, and all the times he was made to wait on his older brother hand and foot to make up for crashing his hang-outs.

“I’m not asking you to tag along,” Jack scoffs, “You third-wheeling would be the ultimate buzz-kill. I thought you could be of use elsewhere.”

“You’re making whatever it is sound so fun.”

Luke takes his swing, driving the ball and watching it soar to his desired point with a hand shielding his eyes from the sun. Jack watches too, stepping to Luke’s side to measure how far from his own ball it lands.

“Nice,” he mutters appreciatively as the two of them load their clubs into their stand bags. “I need you to keep Regina George busy, distract her or something, she’s stuck to Ellie like glue, it’s beyond annoying.”

If only he knew, Luke thinks, a worry in the back of his mind about how his brother owes more to you than he even realises.

“You worried she’s gonna make her see sense?”

Jack swats at his arm and rolls his eyes.

“I’m worried she’s gonna ruin the good vibes like she usually does and I won’t be able to bite my tongue from saying something and looking like the asshole.”

Distracting you isn’t the worst thing he could be doing with his time, Luke thinks. It’s not like he has to go all out, you’ll no doubt be hanging out around the house and the two of you can hang together. All he has to do is keep you off your phone. Shouldn’t be too hard. You’ve adapted pretty well to mimicking the guys when it comes to staying off theirs.

It ticks off the box of trying to fight for a scrap of your attention. With no one else around, you’ll have no choice but to entertain his company.

And it puts him in front of your little race - lending a helping hand to Jack’s plans to talk to Ellie is surely the same as getting them together. It’s all falling so perfectly into his lap. He isn’t being lazy.

But he can’t let Jack know that, so he heaves out a sigh and offers a slow shake of his head for dramatic effect. “Fine,” he groans, “But you owe me. Big time.”

You’re starting to find it harder and harder to pretend like you don’t want to be at the Lake House.

If you’re being honest, you don’t entirely know why you’re even trying to keep up pretences, but using your disinterest as armour has become like second nature over the years, and you’re hardly going to stop now.

Even if there are already so many little things about being there that are starting to wear you down.

Quiet, early mornings, for one - birds chirping just outside your open window, sun rays pouring in through sheer curtains that flow in the slight breeze, that light feeling that blows through your chest when you’re sat out on the deck behind the house with a fresh cup of coffee, looking out over the still lake and basking in the peace of it all.

And even when it’s not so peaceful, when the kitchen is full of bodies swerving around each other to try and throw together some sort of breakfast spread - pastries and fruit, bacon and eggs, various boxes of cereal on the counter. Quinn had even made a whole batch of pancakes one morning, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t come down every day since hoping to see him donning that same frilly apron that Cole had draped around his waist and working his magic with a pan.

You’ve never really been a part of such a full house. You had been an only child for so long - and by the time your parents split, and it was just you and your mom, on the days she wasn’t already at work when you got up - and were so ingrained in your own routine in the morning that you think you might actually need the chaos to function better. The rush of bodies, the arguments over who drank the last of the juice, the bickering over who’s turn it is to do the next grocery run - it’s a kind of entertainment you haven’t been privy to in a long time.

Being kind of disconnected from everything else isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, either. You’re not attached to your phone, checking socials to see what everyone else is doing, to see if your dad has sent any messages yet this summer, and you find yourself connecting a little more with the people around you and leaving your family stress on the back burner. You’re more focused on what’s in front of you, and your relationships with other people. With Ellie, with some of the guys in the house, with your friends at work, even.

And it’s nice to be closer to work too. You don’t have to rush around trying to make the bus - Luke has been keeping his word and driving you to the club most days, and where he can’t, either somebody else has offered, or you’ve just ridden one of the bikes in the garage that the boys said were free to use - the helmet hair is an easy fix when you have access to the locker rooms.

It’s an adjustment, for sure, getting used to being in a full house. Especially this one - with a constant revolving door of faces, friends of the brothers switching out week by week to come and stay, departing just as you’ve started getting to know them with a promise of dropping by again soon.

So far, you’re almost at double-digits for the names you’ve had to memorise. Some of them you were already familiar with, guys from Michigan who you already knew or knew of, but others were more Jack or Quinn’s friends that you’d never had the pleasure of meeting before now.

Cole Caufield being one of them.

He had arrived a couple of days after you and Ellie moved yourselves in, closer to Jack than the other two brothers, you had noticed, and was going to be staying longer than any of the other visitors - having his own designated room in the house, similar to you girls.

You like Cole - he’s good fun, can take a joke unlike his supposed best friend, and has the kind of smile that almost gives you a buzz whenever it’s flashed your way. Your first few interactions with him were seemingly pleasant, despite Jack constantly in his ear with a hardened glare pointed your way and no doubt unsavoury words uttered. Cole would just shrug him off, laugh, meet your eyes and drop a wink your way - a gesture you’d usually squirm and cringe at, but Cole kind of pulls it off.

He joins in when you chirp Luke, too - which, if your honest, is your main source of entertainment since arriving, so your interactions with him grow day by day.

You haven’t really spent any one-on-one time with Cole yet, though. You were hoping to, before he left to visit home for the weekend - for no other reason than to get the scoop on something you’d happened upon at work last week - and had planned on asking him to hang out on your day off. But with Cole now gone for a few days, Jack and Ellie off doing god knows what, Quinn and Luke working out wherever, you have no choice but to spend your free Sunday lounging around the house, trying to find something to suppress your growing boredom.

You start with your nails, painting them a summery orangey-red and doing your toes to match, then do your laundry, abiding by house rules that you rotate the loads between the machines, and fold out whoever’s clothes were last in the dryer and place them in the hamper on the side.

You’re hoping you haven’t had to fold Jack’s underwear but you decide to live in blissful ignorance - trying to identify the load based on the rest of the clothing in there is impossible when they all share, so it kind of works in your favour.

You FaceTime your mom for almost an hour, getting an update on what she’s been up to with work, and giving her updates on how your summer is going, trying to focus on your time at the club and Ellie so she doesn’t worry too much again that you��re spending your summer in a house filled with boys.

And by the time Luke and Quinn come back from their workout, you’re in the lounge, 50 pages deep into a book you really couldn’t care less about, but there’s something in you that refuses to beg one of them for company, so you suffer in silence.

Even when Luke does join you, throwing himself down onto the opposite side of the couch you’re occupying and pushing your feet off his side like it’s his sole purpose just to annoy you.

“I was comfortable there, asshat,” you frown, lifting your feet back into their previous position and using one to give him a light kick to his thigh.

“Yeah, well, I hardly want your feet all up in my business while I’m trying to relax,” he sighs, sinking into the cushions with hands clasped behind his head, biceps flexing and tightening the arms of his t-shirt in a way that momentarily catches your eye. You’re thankful for his closed eyes, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you divert your attention back to the mundane words on the pages in front of you.

“And yet here you are when there are 2 other couches.”

“Yeah, well, I know how much you like to be near me.”

You try to ignore him, pulling your feet a little closer to your body and focusing back on the book, but it’s hard when Luke has such a presence. You feel the little looks he keeps sending your way like a physical touch, and the couch shifts with every slight movement he makes, so when he constantly shuffles, you start to think he wants your attention.

Of course he wants your attention. This is Luke Hughes.

“Are you just sitting down here to annoy me?”

He lights up, like he’s just been waiting for you to ask, and shuffles in his seat to face you, fully, bouncing in place like a puppy being teased with a tennis ball.

“I’m actually trying to distract you, if you must know.”

“Bold of you to assume you have enough of my attention to be distracting in the first place,” you scoff, trying not to react to the way he smirks in your peripheral, the words in front of you all blurring together. If you were actually focused on them, you’d have lost your place, already.

“I think you pay more attention to me than you’d like to admit.”

“That’s some ego you’ve got on you, Hughes,” you narrow your eyes as you look above the edge of your book, “Is that what you spend that big NHL paycheque on, charisma classes? How to flirt for dummies?”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing? Flirting?”

Damn. You walked yourself right into that one.

Sometimes biting back at Luke comes like second nature, words first, thoughts after - and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it that way. It’s easy, the back and forth, and you can’t really think of an instance with him where you’ve sat in a lingering, awkward silence. You’ve really grown to hate silence, lately.

“You wish.”

“You think I’m charismatic,” he teases in a sing-song voice, knocking at your knee and wiggling his eyebrows when you glare at him.

“I think you’re an idiot.”

“You’re not gonna ask what I’m distracting you from?”

“I don’t really care,” you lie, eyes darting back down and diverting the attention he so desperately craves away from him.

“Jack wanted to take Ellie out on the boat.” He says, ignoring your attempts to ignore him - pushing your buttons like a full time job. Like an operator for your last nerve.

“Good for her.”

“Alone.”

“No shit.”

“To ask her out.”

“Whoop-de-doo.”

“Whoop-de-,” Luke straightens up, like a whack-a-mole with his head positioning itself over the top of your book, and you kind of wish you had one of those soft mallets right about now. It would be so satisfying to bonk at his head, you think. “What do you mean, whoop-de-doo, is this not what you agreed to be here for? To get them together?”

You scoff, flicking to the next page of the book in feigned disinterest. “He isn’t asking her out today.”

This is the exact something you had wanted to talk to Cole about - whispers in the staff lounge at work earlier in the week doing the rounds would imply otherwise, but your main source is kind of a gossip, and you’re not entirely sure of their reliability, despite the few degrees of separation to the subject at hand.

Mutterings of Jack and Cole and their little country club connections.

You can hardly ask Luke of all people if his brother is as much of a man-whore as everyone is making out. Cole was a safe bet - he’d probably just tell you straight up what they’re up to, wear his pride like a shining gold medal. He’s upfront about his promiscuity, at least. Luke is more protective. Of himself, of his family, you’re not entirely sure. There haven’t been as many whispers about him.

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Because he’s a spineless idiot,” you retort, eyes flicking up momentarily to take in his furrowed brow. “No offence,” comes out of nowhere, and you surprise yourself with the instinct to lessen the blow of your words for the first time in forever.

“None taken, he’s only my flesh and blood,” Luke huffs, “You’re just jealous I’m winning our bet.”

“Sure,” you drawl, eyes widening to emphasise the sarcasm as you make a point of angling your head to the next page, like you’ve taken a single word in for the past five minutes. “He’s been talking to one of the girls from work. There’s no way he’s doing that and asking Ellie out, unless he’s completely brain dead.”

And when you look back at Luke, that furrowed brow has shifted into a full blown frown, pouted lips and eyes cast down as if he’s trying to figure everything out in his head.

It’s probably the pout that has you cushioning your words, once more.

“Again, no offence, I doubt it’s in your DNA.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m no bio student but I don’t think there’s a genetic marker for being a fuckboy.”

“No, about him talking to one of the girls at the club. He didn’t tell me that.”

Why does he have to sound like that? Let down and unsure, quieter than you think you’ve ever heard him. It’s like the tone he carries goes straight to your fingers, clasping the book closed without marking your page - because what business do you have carrying on that charade?

“Do you guys tell each other everything?” You ask as you throw the book until it lands on the coffee table with a gentle thud, shuffling until you’re sat against the arm of the couch with knees bent in front of you, giving him your undivided attention and feeling guilty that it might not be enough.

“I thought we did,” he scratches at the back of his head, nervously, “He literally told me yesterday he was taking her out to talk about stuff, why would he make a point of asking me to keep you busy if he’s not serious about asking her out?”

“You don’t want to hear my answer to a question about your brother not being serious.”

“Who’s the girl?” He asks, ignoring your comment despite the slight ghost of a smile you see flash into the corner of his mouth.

“Jessica, she works at the pro shop, apparently they’ve been texting all summer.”

You know for a fact that since you’ve started paying attention, you’ve seen Jack on his phone a lot for a guy who chirps you for your own screen-time, and who has enforced the house rule of no phones outside your room like a prison guard yells out no touching at visitation. So it sort of checks out. You’ve tried to sneak a peak, but he’s protective of his stuff like a yappy little dog with attachment issues at the best of times, so you haven’t really put too much effort into it.

“There were a few people talking about it in the lounge at work the other day,” you shrug, “One of the girls talking about it is Jess’ best friend, so not exactly from the horse’s mouth, but I don’t think she’d be spreading lies about her friend around like that.”

“Can you find out?”

“You ask that like I haven’t been trying.” That gets a full smile, a small chuckle that lifts his shoulder, even, “I was gonna grill Caufield about it but he’s gone. But I know you guys have plans when he gets back tomorrow, so if you want to take Cole I’ll hack away at the grape vine at the club?”

“Does this mean we’re teammates?”

“No. It absolutely does not.”

Hacking away at the grapevine is really a lot more like plucking absentmindedly at an overgrown patch of grass when it comes to workplace gossip.

By the end of your shift, you’re leaving the club with a fist clutched full of loose blades, fingers stained green from the amount of information people were willing to ‘fess up.

Liam who works behind the bar had overheard a conversation where Jack had mentioned Jessica, but could only give you useless tidbits, like how he had to stop by the shop for a new putter, and Jess had been the one to ring him up.

Hardly incriminating, but you had a feeling it would be a small piece of a way larger puzzle. That, and guys are notoriously useless at gossiping, there’s definitely more to that story than Liam could even comprehend in his tiny man brain.

Cassidy who works at the front desk had seen Jack and Jess talking in the main lobby last week, definitely flirting, she had said - with hair flips and giggles galore - and way too familiar to be new.

Much better.

Paola who has the alternative shifts in the pro shop was more than willing to take up ten minutes of your time ranting how Jess’ work is never fully done when it comes to a handover, and she spends half her time on her phone. Kiran, who works the bev cart every Monday, said Jack is always one of the most charming in their golfing group, so it’s no surprise if he is exchanging texts with girls from the club.

You get dirt from most corners of the place, and it leads you all the way back to your station, to reservations set for the restaurant, where tonight’s list - unfortunately a shift you’re not set to work, although you very much question the serendipity of that - has Jack’s name down at 7pm. A table for 2 in the back corner, shielded from prying eyes and intimate.

And if it weren’t for the fact you’ve already worked a full shift, you would consider staying just to get the full scoop.

You know Ellie isn’t going to be the one sat across from him, she’s been sending you pictures all day of her various hauls for her quiet night in. New paints and pencils, a sketchpad, some candles - she has all intentions of working on her watercolour technique.

So it has to be for him and Jessica.

Imagine his face, you think, picturing wide, panicked eyes as you roam up to his table to take his order. He’d actually crap his pants.

But, it’s another set of eyes that you picture when you start to enjoy the scheming a little too much. The sad, teary eyes of your best friend, when she finds out the guy she’s been hung up on for half her life, who she has all but convinced herself isn’t interested, and is - absurdly - ‘far too good’ for her - yeah, right - is dating other girls while taking her out on not-so-platonic boat dates only the day before. A boat date that she had come back to your room, flung herself onto her belly on the bed, and kicked her feet as she gushed all about it.

So you make your way back to the house after a long day, and resign yourself to the fact that you’re going to have to, yet again, get all your information on Jack’s date second hand.

You primed Cara, your colleague in the restaurant, to keep an eye out, and she promised to send updates on her breaks, and you have been holed up in yours and Ellie’s shared bedroom trying to keep her busy when there is a persistent knock at the door, and a mop of soft, curly brown hair pokes in before his eyes meet yours.

“Hey, Luke!” Ellie chimes, cheery and all too blissfully unaware of the potentially horrific circumstances you’ve stumbled upon. “You need to borrow my conditioner again?”

You scoff from your position on the bed, watching a slight pink hue flush up Luke’s neck.

“What? No,” he denies, running a hand through his hair and seemingly frowning a little at the way it feels. “I’m going to the store, wondered if either of you needed anything?”

“Nah, thanks, we’re good,” Ellie smiles, attention diverting straight back to where she’s drawing in her sketchbook, missing the way Luke widens his eyes and tilts his head as if to encourage you to take him up on his offer.

“Can I come with?” You shuffle from your position on the bed, swinging your legs out from beneath you and over the side as Ellie looks back at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you wanted something.”

“Someone’s got to show the poor guy what’s what on the haircare aisle, El.”

And you’re thankful that Ellie has settled herself in for the evening already by 6:45, showered, pyjamas on, otherwise she might have tried to tag along, too, just for something to do.

You swipe her phone before she can notice and hide it under your pillow before you leave, thinking it might reduce the risk of her getting bored and texting Jack, or, worse, checking his location.

A trip out gives you the chance for you and Luke to debrief each other on your findings of the day - or, as it turns out, just you, because Luke Hughes might be the worst information-gatherer on planet Earth.

Finding his life’s niche in hockey is fortunate, because he definitely wouldn’t cut it as an investigator.

“He just said he didn’t know anything,” Luke shrugs of his earlier encounter with Cole, and you try not to gape at him in disbelief as he fiddles with the screen in his BMW, scrolling through the interface in search of the nearest store.

You swat his hand away with a scoff, typing in a destination, “And you believed him?”

“Was I not supposed to?”

“You’re about as useless as a chocolate teapot, Hughes. What is it with guys and gossip, are you all really that dumb?”

“That’s the address for the club,” he points out, ignoring your jibe as he starts driving.

“Well done, you can read.”

“Why?”

“Because, thankfully, one of us is a good detective.” You snark, “Jack’s there.”

“So?”

“He’s on a date.”

“No he isn’t,” Luke frowns, attention momentarily taken from the road as he looks over at you. “I’ve been with him all afternoon, he would have told me if he had a date, tonight.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d he say he was going when he left, earlier?”

He hadn’t been home when you got back from work, but that had been around an hour ago. You figured if he was sneaky enough to book into the restaurant when you’re not working, he’d have his wits about him to avoid you, entirely. Whenever the two of you cross paths, you can’t help but try get on his last nerve, and he’s hardly going to want to start his evening in a foul mood.

“To get his hair cut.”

Jesus Christ, you think, he’s so lucky he’s cute.

“You’re so clueless. He’s at the lounge with Jessica, the girl I told you about yesterday.”

“And what are we supposed to do about that?”

“We’re gonna supervise. And maybe interfere, if necessary.”

You don’t really have a plan, but it seems like the right thing to at least get a look in as to what the hell Jack thinks he’s doing, especially if you’re going to carry on with this whole plan of getting him and Ellie together. If he’s seriously entertaining other girls while making out to Luke that he only has eyes for Ellie, your plans might have to change. You’re not sure if Luke will be on board with the new path you’re willing to take, but you’ll be happy to kill his brother on your own.

“Interfere?” Luke’s eyes are wide, but he keeps them on the road, fingers flexing against the wheel. “I just came out for chips to make nachos, not play spies!”

“Cara’s working tonight, she said she’d keep an eye on them for me. I bet if I cover her hosting shift on Friday she’d sabotage their date. We’d just have to sit back and watch.”

“Oh,” Luke’s brows furrow, as if it’s taking any consideration at all to mess with his brother. “You really are an evil genius.”

You try not to think too hard about who’s been spewing that rhetoric already in his ear, and instead you smile when he casts his eyes your way, proud and pleased.

“Thank you.”

It takes another 15 minutes to get to the club, considering Luke’s best Driving Miss Daisy impression, so their date is already underway by the time Cara is ushering you to a booth in the far corner, where you can see Jack’s table, but he shouldn’t be able to see yours, and agreeing to play along.

“Can I get you guys any drinks?” She asks as she hands over two menus, and you’re too interested in trying to gauge the vibe at the other table while Luke looks over his.

“Two diet cokes, shaved ice, no lemon,” he says, and you can’t help but frown at the way the specificity of that order rolls so easily off his tongue. That’s your order.

“Any food?”

“Could we just get some nachos, please?” You ask, sliding your menu across the table without even looking, not wanting to give Luke too much of a chance to peruse his own out of fear you’ll be here all night. “And extra picante on the side.”

“Extra guac, too,” Luke adds as Cara scribbles the instructions on her notepad, “And some of those chicken tenders, and extra ranch. And maybe some fries. Yeah, chilli fries. And breadsticks.”

You level him with a glare, already proven right in your decision not to give him too much time to think about what he wanted. He’ll order every appetiser on the menu, if given half the chance.

“Thanks, Cara, that’s everything.”

“Sure thing, should be around fifteen minutes. They only just ordered,” she points her pen back to Jack’s table, where Jess is leaning onto the table and Jack is leaning back in his seat - heavy on the distance but even heavier on the eye contact. That little shit.

“Does he have any allergies?” You lean onto your own table to ask Luke, quirking a brow up when his eyes darken in response, mischief swirling in his emerald irises.

“Absolutely not,” Cara interjects, “I’m doing this so you cover my job, not make me lose it.”

“Let me guess, he ordered the steak, medium-rare?” Luke asks, and she nods, hesitantly. “Char it.”

“Won’t he complain?”

“He’ll just grumble to himself about how tough it is. It’ll put him in a bad mood. That’s what we want, right?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, nodding your head to ease Cara’s worries despite what you really want is for Chef Michael to poison the cut, entirely. If Jack Hughes wants to play with your best friend’s heart, you’ll play with his gut. But you can settle for burnt meat. Luke can work some sort of magic with that, you think, convincing Jack of all people that any first date that resulted in him coming home all sour-puss and sulky should never result in a second. “Bad mood. Bingo.”

“Fine,” Cara grumbles, “But if he even thinks about asking for a manager, you’re covering my next 3 Fridays.”

She storms off to the kitchen, and you and Luke simultaneously sink into your seats, attention immediately diverted back to the table in the opposite corner of the room.

“We should have kept the menus,” Luke mutters from across the booth, “Could have hidden behind them.”

“What are we, children?” You snark, “You can’t think of any more creative ways to stay hidden?”

“I heard PDA makes people pretty uncomfortable,” he leans onto the table, dropping you a wink when you glance over out of the side of your eye, “We should make out to throw everyone off the scent.”

“In your dreams, Hughes.”

Luke sort of envies the charm you hold over people.

The way you can convince people to do your bidding with a mere flutter of your eyelashes or a flash of pearly teeth and a glimmer in your irises.

He has trouble, sometimes, skirting around his honesty or hiding his intentions - and he knows that’s not a bad thing, knows that being clear and truthful is an admirable trait, if anything - but the way you persuade others to bend to your whim with intricate white lies based on observations you’ve made or intel you’ve gathered is a praiseworthy level of genius.

It had taken such minimal effort for you to get Cara on side, to convince her that being a little clumsy is hardly grounds for her termination, and spilling a little of Jack’s drink close to the edge of the table - close enough that it drips onto his pants and Luke can see the steams of frustration exuding from his brother’s skin from all the way on the other side of the restaurant - or bumping her hip on the edge of their table every time she passes are really just harmless irritations, not likely to cause actual complaint.

You had used the mere tone of your voice to convince Liam from behind the bar to squeeze a little lime in Jack’s water, knowing just from observing him back at the house that he hates the taste, face curling in disgust at even the slightest hint of it, and Luke had watched your eyes gleam in delight every time Jack took a sip of his drink and tried not to spit it back out, seeking much needed reprieve to swallow down the world’s toughest steak cut.

You’d even worked your magic on him, pouting your lips when the food had arrived at the table, and he had initially declined to share his chicken tenders with you - your grumblings at him ordering enough to feed the five thousand fresh in his memory, but so easily wiped away by the soft, sad look in your eyes, and your whining of, “But I didn’t realise how hungry I’d get. Plotting and scheming is hard work, Luke.”

You ended up eating half, but he could hardly complain - you were doing the heavy lifting out of the two of you.

He was sitting back and enjoying the show - enjoying your company, if he’s honest. Enjoying the way his gangly limbs would sometimes knock into yours under the table, enjoying the way he kept getting little nuggets of information out of you while you were distracted, sipping at your coke and making little comments about yourself, about your life, without even realising you’re doing it.

And an unplanned, pseudo date ends up being the first time he thinks he’s had a glimpse at the real you.

The you who knows more about hockey than you’ve ever let on before, who comes back to his stories with contextual questions about the game, even has references to a few games of his back at Michigan, and keeps the conversation flowing despite your feigned disinterest, and a constant gaze cast his brother’s way.

That would usually drive him crazy.

He’s experienced it so often that he has come to expect it, people only entertaining his company to acquire the attention of his brothers, but that’s not what you’re doing. Not really.

You pay more attention to Luke than you’d ever let on.

You ask him about his time in Ostrava at the beginning of summer, even though he’s only mentioned being overseas once while you’ve been staying with him - an offhanded comment from Quinn at breakfast that you must have taken on. Ask him about all the food he tried while out there, when he mentions he doesn’t like picante, and you use it as a springboard to talk about what sort of spices he does like, or if he’s the type to try things or stick to what he knows.

You ask him about being the youngest sibling, and it stems from an offhanded comment Luke had grumbled about always being the last to be clued in on stuff, about how Jack had probably confided in Quinn about his extracurricular activities at the club, and didn’t trust him enough to let him in on the fact he’s going out on dates. You ask if he usually figures things out himself before he’s told them, if that’s what makes him so good at observing and analysing stuff, and he hadn’t ever realised he was particularly good at those things before you brought it up. But then you reference a day in class one time, where he had picked up on something in a textbook that you never would have figured out in a million years, and his heart leaps at the praise you don’t even realise you’re giving him.

You sandwich your perceptions in your usual snark, but he doesn’t miss the slight curve of your lips anymore when he bites straight back, knowing now that there is some part of you that feels the nip of his teeth, that acknowledges his existence beyond him being a speck of inconvenience in your peripheral.

And he gets a little carried away in that acknowledgement - stops paying attention himself to what is happening on the other side of the room and tries to focus on what’s in front of him; the girl he pined after his entire college career, sat sharing nachos and pretending not to know him at a level you so clearly do.

You must get carried away, too, because neither of you notice Jack’s date wrapping up until Luke catches him hand his card over to Cara.

He’s lost count of how long the two of you have been at the club, now - way longer than it takes to get chips from the store, that’s for sure - and all he does know is that if Jack catches either of you two here, after a night of mishaps, bad food, spilled drinks and Cara’s incessant clumsiness, he’ll know who’s to blame.

“We better get out of here before he sees us,” Luke sighs, not entirely wanting to wrap up his time with you but knowing he doesn’t really have a choice.

“I’ve just got to pick something up before we head back,” you reply, edging out of the booth at the same time Luke does, “I’ll meet you out front just give me two minutes?”

“Be quick,” he tells you before you scurry off, and he flags down Cara, who tells him you already put your bill on your worker tab. He tells her to switch it to his, and that he’ll drop by tomorrow to pay it off, promising to leave her a good tip for her stellar services for the evening.

He waits where you asked him to, making sure to stick to the side of the entryway where he can duck for cover if his brother makes an appearance - but you show up first, skipping out from the staff lounge with a bag of tortilla chips in hand.

“Let’s go, Lukey boy!” He follows you out like a puppy on a leash, all the way to where his car is parked, almost bumping into you when you stop and turn without warning, stretching your hand out to him. “Give me your keys.”

“Are you crazy?” He snorts, “You’re not driving my car!”

“I know a shortcut!” You reason, stepping forward and making a grabby motion with your fingers, “We gotta beat Jack home, I just paid another server $20 to spill a whole drink on him before he leaves and he’s gonna be pissed. I want to see the meltdown back at the house and you drive like a nun!”

Luke doesn’t know why he gives in so easy - it could be the proximity, the way you’re so close you have to look up at him, eyes twinkling softly under the moonlight, voice carrying over to him like a siren song, or it could just be because he’s weak - but he hands his keys over with a roll of his eyes and climbs into the passenger side, sliding the seat back with a huff to accommodate his long legs and watching as you adjust the driver’s side, cringing at the way he’s gonna have to figure out exactly how he had it before.

You drive like a maniac, to the point where Luke has to screw his eyes shut as you use some back road, can hear the squelch of mud beneath his tires and squirms at the thought of having to take it to the car wash, tomorrow.

But you make it back to the lake house much quicker than if he were driving, he’ll give you that. So quick that you feel comfortable enough to turn to him once you’ve pulled up, in no rush to unbuckle and get out to get inside before Jack gets home.

“Just so we’re clear, this is a point under my name. You’re not claiming tonight as a win.”

Luke chuckles, turning in his seat to face you, features illuminated by the dim overhead light that turns on when the engine switches off and a slight flush of exhilaration to your cheeks. There’s no pretending you haven’t enjoyed yourself, not tonight. “But the steak thing was my idea?”

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be sat watching baseball and thinking he was getting a 3 hour haircut, you can’t seriously be trying to steal this from me, I thought you athletes had integrity!”

“You’re really keeping score?”

“You’re not?”

If Luke’s honest, he hasn’t really thought about your whole wager all night. He’s been too wrapped up in the idea that his brother had lied to him. Twice. And now his whole plan for the two of you all summer has potentially been messed up. But hearing you mention it, hearing you talk about it like it hasn’t been flushed down the toilet by his brother’s idiocy sparks something in him - excitement, anticipation. He doesn’t want to let this go.

“I actually think we made a good team back there,” he shrugs, eyes meeting yours to gauge your reaction to the thought of doing this together.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re gonna lose,” you retort, eyes sparkling with those same sentiments he had just felt.

“Probably,” he acquiesces, “Also ‘cause you kind of scare me a little after tonight, last thing I wanna do is go up against you when you have the power to turn half the country club against me.”

You smirk, and his eyes are drawn to the plush curve of your lips, watching them as they form around the softly spoken words, “God forbid you can’t go a round of golf without your caddy breaking down.”

“Exactly.” He mutters back, glad to see your gaze is still zeroed in on him when he meets it again. He can feel the thump thump thump of his pulse in his ears, and takes a deep breath before proposing, “Partners?”

He cocks a brow and holds his pinky out over the centre console, and you eye the digit, sceptically, narrowing your eyes into a glare before raising them to meet his. “Fine,” you grumble, then hook your little finger through his and tighten it to shake, a slight yelp of surprise filling the car when he tugs, your lax arm giving way until your knuckle touches his lips and he kisses it.

“Ew,” you whine, snatching your finger back as he fills the space himself with a hearty chuckle, wiping it on his hoody in disgust. “That’s gross!”

“No take backs,” he smiles, victorious, with his chest puffed out, primed for you to swat at with the flex of your hand, and the two of you are only pulled out of the moment by the sound of tyres pulling up on the gravel behind you, both of you stumbling to unbuckle yourselves and climb out of the car.

Jack is exiting his own vehicle behind, and stomps down the driveway, shouldering past you until he realises who he has passed, turning back and looking at you with suspicion cast across his features.

“Where have you twobeen?” Jack asks, glancing a curious eye between the two of you before meeting Luke’s gaze, levelling him with an inquisitive glare.

“We went to the store for chips,” Luke holds the bag up, the crinkle loud enough for Jack to hear, and he feels an insurgence rising within him, spurred on by the way his brother is looking at him like he’s the one who should be ashamed of his actions. “Nice haircut.”

Jack runs a hand through his hair, surprise crossing his features in a brief flash at the call out, like he had never even expected Luke to notice his hair looks no different to the last time he saw him mere hours ago, like he would never even need to question his alibi.

“Oh, yeah, I got the day wrong. Went out for dinner instead.”

“On your own?” You ask from beside him, your presence giving Luke the kind of back up he very much needs right now, a new target for Jack’s narrowed eyes that takes the heat off of him a little, lessens the burden of lying to his brother - despite Jack being the one who started it, it doesn’t make Luke feel any less bad, doesn’t quell the need to word vomit and admit to all the ludicrous things he had done to ruin Jack’s night. “You end up having a little accident there, bud?”

Luke tries not to outwardly laugh as his attention is diverted to the wet patch that still soaks up the front of Jack’s pants, lips quivering as he presses them together, oblivious to the steam pouring out of his brother’s ears as he immediately gets riled up.

“One of your esteemed colleagues at the club apparently lacks hand eye co-ordination. Plus, some of us like our own company,” Jack scoffs, “Some of us can go an evening without the need to annoy anybody else.”

“It’s not news to me that you’re in love with yourself, dude,” you retort back, entirely unbothered by his jibes. “Bet you’ve got all sorts of riveting thoughts swirling around that ginormous head of yours, must keep you busy for hours on end.”

“At least I have thoughts, at least I’m not some airheaded-,”

“Hey,” Luke’s tone is authoritative when he calls out, stern and demanding, “Cut it out, Jack.”

“She started it!”

“She asked you a question,” Luke frowns, disappointed with how quick his brother had taken to escalating the situation, all in an attempt to deflect the attention from his own deception. He knows you don’t need him to protect you from Jack’s sharp tongue, knows you can very much defend yourself, but he needs to vent his frustrations, somehow, without causing a bust up on the driveway. “You could have just give her a straight answer without biting her head off.”

He feels like you’re a little closer, all of a sudden, and he doesn’t know it’s the slight brush of your arm against his or if it’s something else, something less tangible - but it warms him, all the same. Steadies the static thump of his heart in his chest at the thought of starting an argument with his brother out of nowhere.

“Whatever,” Jack rolls his eyes, “I’m going to bed.”

And as Jack turns, Luke sees your lips part, ready to send him off with the last word until a large hand clamps itself over your mouth, and your wide eyes meet his over the sides of his fingers.

He’s not sure why he did it, why he all of a sudden feels comfortable enough to cross the boundaries of purposeful touch, but he doesn’t entirely regret it.

Plush lips press mid-word against his palm, and your skin is soft, cheeks warming ever so slightly beneath his hand.

“You gotta let him go, there’s no use fighting with him tonight, it’s better to drag it out. Didn’t think I’d have to teach you about the beauty of the long game,” he says, voice low as he watches his brother retreat to the house, waiting until he’s safe inside to retract his hand. “Not like this, anyway.”

“Your brother’s an asshole,” you grumble, “Full offence.”

“No arguments from me,” Luke concedes, holding his hands as if surrendering to the fact, himself. “What are you gonna tell Ellie?”

“Nothing.” You sigh, stepping a little down the drive and toward the house before turning back to him. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, partner.”

There have only been a handful of times in your life you’ve ever been thankful for work coinciding with huge plans, but when the group had decided that they wanted to go see Zach Bryan play Ford Field, you had thanked your lucky stars you had been put down to work a full shift at the restaurant and wouldn’t be able to go.

Not only for the fact that he isn’t really your thing, but for the fact that you’re finally getting a full evening to yourself.

So far, in your time at the house, most evenings have been spent with everyone else - group dinners, game nights, movie nights, even a couple of girls nights with just you and Ellie scattered in there, but nothing on your own, yet.

You can’t wait. And with an empty house, you have a full pamper night planned. You’ve been stocking up odd bits on your trips to the store over the past couple of weeks - sheet masks, aromatherapy candles, you’ve even picked up some flower petals from the spa at the club, in the hopes that you might even treat yourself to a relaxing soak in the bathtub. You can play whatever music you want, make whatever food you want, sit wherever you want in the house, out on the deck, overlooking the lake with a book in hand and no chirpy voices in your ear all night.

You can’t wait.

The only downside is not having a ride home, but you haven’t finished too late. The sun will still be up for a couple of hours, and a walk in the simmering heat back to the house doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Your feet carry you with ease down the back roads, and you even make the journey without your headphones on, taking in the scenery, the blissful peace of your surroundings, so lost in the tranquility of it all that the sight of Luke washing his car on the drive when you get home dampens your mood as quick as a torrential downpour of rain, flash floods coursing through your evening and wrecking your plans entirely.

“What the hell are you doing?” You can’t help the bite in your tone as you approach, sneakers crunching against the gravel as Luke pauses the hose, looks over at you with the sun in his eyes, and you have to remind yourself he’s just ruined the one night you have for yourself before you get distracted by the fact that he’s shirtless.

“Washing my car?” he calls back, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Detroit right now?”

Luke shrugs, and you have to will your eyeballs not to move any lower than his neck to watch his shoulders lift and drop, lest you get too caught up in the broad expanse of his chest and do something ridiculous like drool.

“Wasn’t feeling it.”

“You weren’t feeling a concert you guys haven’t shut up about for weeks, but you were feeling washing your car?”

He’s dead. When he’s finished with his car and he retreats to his room, you’re gonna smother him with a pillow and discard of his body in the lake. You’re not even gonna let him shower, first. That’s what the lake’s for.

He’s crapping all over your plans because he wasn’t feeling it?

“It needs cleaning,” he shrugs again, and you swear you’re gonna jump in and run him over with the damn thing, “In fact, you really should be helping me.”

There’s a small part of you that feels like the thoughts of violence are worryingly aggressive, but then a larger part of you realises he must have a death wish.

“How’d you get to that conclusion?”

“You’re the one who drove us through a swamp,” he scoffs, a pointed hand flung toward the body of his car, where the sides are lined with a thick layer of dried dirt from the other night, “You get it dirty, you clean it up.”

“As much as I would absolutely love to fulfil your pervy car wash fantasy, I have much better things I could be doing with my time.”

Or you did, until Luke rained all over your parade of solitude.

“Like what?”

“Literally anything but this.” You gesture at the show he’s putting on. The suds dripping from the roof of the car, the hose in his hand, the buckets scattered around the perimeter. “I need to shower, I just walked from the club and I-,”

A death wish might actually be an understatement.

Luke wants you to murder him in the most gruesome, horrific way you could possibly muster - he has to, because there’s no other explanation for why he’d turn the hose on, point it straight at you, and drench the front of you, entirely.

You can feel the fabric of your t-shirt dampening and sticking to your chest, and you scrunch your eyes shut to stop droplets of water slipping into them, thankful that when they open again, his own are looking back at you, and not any lower.

You’d really have a reason to kill him, then.

“You did not just do that.” You growl, glaring back at him with a clenched jaw as the fucker beams back at you, pressing the trigger once more in a short burst that fires straight at your chest, again.

“What, that?”

“You’re so dead.”

You drop your bag and launch for him, aiming to take the hose from his grip, but he fires it again out of sheer panic, the water spouting out from between your splayed fingers, cold and pressured, and it soaks the both of you, raining down as you grapple for the head and Luke remains unrelenting.

There are squeals and yelps called out into the misty air between the two of you, and you get to a point you can’t tell what sounds are coming from who, but you manage to wrestle the hose from his grip and point it straight at him as he jets away with a laugh that rumbles straight from his belly.

It’s the kind of laugh that elicits another, and you don’t realise until he’s circling back to you that the laughter is coming from you - giggling, even, as the two of you engage in a water fight like misbehaving children - and it isn’t long until all aggressive thoughts wash away with the suds that slip to the gravel, forgetting why you were even annoyed in the first place.

It shouldn’t be as fun as it is, but after the long day at work, and the tiring walk back, letting your guard down and engaging it a little mindless chaos seems to wake you up a little.

Your childish game gets Luke what he wanted, anyway, the two of you working together to clean his car when you realise he’s only running in front of all the parts that actually need hosing off and relying on you having bad aim to get the job done, and you figure getting your hands a little dirty is harmless when you’re already soaked through and in dire need of a shower.

And your pamper-plans of a bubble bath and self-care don’t entirely come to fruition, but Luke promises to make up for his petulance by ordering pizza and sticking a movie on, so you bite your tongue to refrain from voicing your initial complaints, and decide to just go with the flow, for once - he hasn’t exactly led you astray, yet.

You take a little longer in the shower than normal, with no one around to complain about hogging the bathroom or worry about them barging in unannounced, and you suppose that’s a small victory - one little luxury you get to cling to as you bask in the steam, letting all the tension slip from your aching muscles after being on your feet all day.

And once you’re out, hair dried just enough with a towel that it isn’t going to drip or soak your t-shirt, and you’re dressed in your pyjamas, you make your way downstairs, where Luke has already set up a plethora of snacks in the living room.

Nachos, popcorn, candy and drinks scattered across the coffee table as he relaxes on the couch, hair extra curly after his shower and an old Michigan t-shirt stretched tight across his now much-broader chest.

“Thought I’d wait for you to pick a movie,” he chimes up from where he’s sat, gesturing with a lazy point to the wall of blu-rays beside the TV.

“Did Netflix never make it to the Hughes household?” You scoff in disbelief as you take them all in properly for the first time. You’d seen them in your peripheral when you’d been hanging out down here, before, but actually looking at them up close, reading all the titles, seeing the sheer volume of how many there are, it kind of surprises you.

“We can look on Netflix if you want. They always take stuff off, though.”

You know. All your favourite movies get taken off of streaming, and you only ever find out about it when you’re really in the mood to watch them. As soon as you realise the wall is alphabetised, you know exactly where to look.

“That’s alright,” you shrug, stepping to the side as you track backwards, through M, L, K and J. “You guys are pretty analogue, I’ve noticed.”

“What do you mean?”

“The board games, the DVDs, the whole no phones around the house thing.”

“No phones around the house is common courtesy,” he chuckles, “But I guess we’re a little weird about the other stuff.”

“It’s pretty cool,” you shrug, spotting the DVD you want and sliding it out to assess the case. “It’s old school. Probably better for the brain. My little brothers can’t really function without an iPad and they’re 5, it’s freaky, like they’re haunted by the capitalist ghost of Steve Jobs or something.”

“I didn’t know you had brothers,” Luke frowns where you almost expect him to laugh, and you spin on your heel to face him. He has this look about him like he should have known that - like the two of you have ever conversed in anything other than sarcastic quips and scrunched up faces, or whatever attempts at flirting have been on his part.

“Technically they’re half brothers,” you shrug, “They live out in Philly with my dad and step mom, I don’t really get to see them much.”

“Didn’t know you were from Philly, either.”

“I’m not, my dad moved out there when him and my mom got divorced.”

It’s not something you really love talking about.

The few times you’ve tried, you’ve been shot down, patronising tones scoffing at how your biggest trauma is the separation of your parents, as if your whole world didn’t crumble down with the demise of their relationship, the demise of life as you knew and very dearly loved it.

“You don’t see him even in the summer?”

“Him and his family are on vacation in Europe for 6 weeks. England, France, Spain, Germany, the boys are into soccer so they’ll be out there until the Euros.”

You don’t miss the way Luke’s face scrunches at how you call them his family, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him to start pitying you, so you throw the DVD case toward him before you can second guess your choice.

Interstellar.

You hope he doesn’t pick up on why it might be one of your favourites. Especially not considering the topic of the conversation at hand. Something about the crippling regret Cooper has for leaving Murph behind plucks harmoniously at some unidentifiable strings deep within you, but you’re hardly about to admit that to Luke, of all people.

“I love this movie,” he smiles, almost surprised, as if he expected you to throw The Notebook his way. Maybe next time - he’d probably love that movie, too, if he gave it a chance.

“Me too. I love space movies.”

“Like Space Jam?” He asks as he pushes himself up, going toward the TV to set up the movie with the DVD in one hand and the remote control in the other.

“No, like movies about Space,” you say, throwing yourself down onto the same couch he just vacated and tucking your feet beneath you to get comfortable. “Although I guess Space Jam would technically fit into that bracket.”

“I didn’t realise that was a genre,” he chuckles.

“Not the scary ones, though, I don’t wanna be freaked out by space.”

“Is that like a thing? You just like any movie set in space?”

“I like anything about space, period. Movies, documentaries, books. Thinking about it makes me feel really insignificant.”

“Insignificant? Is that not a bad thing?” He asks as he makes his way back, settling into his side and angling his body toward yours.

“Do you ever think about how big the universe is, Hughes? It’s humongous! If I ever feel anxious or panicky I think about just how big it is and how I’m not even a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things. If I’m so tiny, how big can my problems actually be?”

“I guess that makes sense,” he seems to mull it over in his head, the thought of him even considering it and not making you feel stupid warms your chest - makes you forget just how much of yourself you’ve shared with him in the last couple of minutes alone, makes you worry less that you’re sharing too much. “I think I might be the opposite, though. Probably the youngest brother in me, I only feel better if I feel bigger.”

You think that might be why he’s always trying to one up you - sassy comments and inappropriate jokes galore. Not that you mind any of it, not really.

“What about you? What movies do you like?”

“You’re gonna be so shocked.”

“Sports movies?”

“Look at you, knowing me like the back of your hand.” He coos, nudging at your knee with his hand. “I’ll watch anything, though. We should take it in turns, whenever it’s just us,” he says like the thought of spending time alone with you has only just crossed his mind. “Picking a movie to show each other.”

You think there’s a lot of yourself in the media you consume. The movies you watch, the music you listen to, and sharing those things with Luke feels like giving him the only other key to a high security vault. It’s something you’ve avoided so far - letting him play his songs in the car, avoiding making any sort of pick in the group movie nights. It’s daunting, and it’s a lot of pressure, and so you don’t know why you agree with so much ease - a shrug, and a casual muttering of, “Sure, why not?”

The pieces of your dynamic slowly start to slot together, and you start to realise why you’ve been entertaining his company so often, lately. Why your mood so quickly de-escalated itself, earlier. Why you’ve found yourself curled up on the same couch as him, instead of literally anywhere else in the house, doing anything other than this. Why you’re so quick to agree to letting him access all these unseen parts of you.

And why you think he might be able to read your mind, after he asks, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Only if I get to ask one back.”

“What were you gonna do tonight, if you were on your own?”

Thank God, you think, your heart jumping at the thought of anything else he could have asked.

“I was gonna do a sheet mask and steal the bottle of wine Quinn stashed behind the laundry detergent.” You admit with a nonchalant shrug, the plans you had been looking forward to all day seeming mundane in comparison to this. “Why’d you stay behind? You love Zach Bryan.”

“I love sheet masks and stolen wine, too.”

Your lips curve up before you get the chance to huff at his non-answer, and you feel your throat go a little dry at the way his curve, too - the way his green eyes darken when they meet yours, and you feel like he’s looking straight through you.

It’s around half way through the movie that you realise how much you’re enjoying yourself - when you look over at Luke, and the light from the screen is still bouncing off the sticky white sheet plastered to his face, only just able to make out his round eyes through the little slit in the fabric.

You sip at your wine to hide your smile, and turn your attention back to the TV until Luke nudges at your feet with his, and your eyes meet over the tops of your bent knees.

“You tell anyone I did this, I’ll never speak to you again.”

Your laugh ripples through every inch of your upper body, rumbling up from your belly and manifesting itself in shaking shoulders, your smile wide and your sheet mask slipping out of place. “You can’t threaten me with a good time, Hughes.”

You spend the rest of the night trying not to think about how there might just be a tiny door in your heart, eking it’s way open for him to squeeze his gangly limbs into.

another a/n: I don't want to put a timeframe on when the next part will be posted bc as soon as I do that, my brain will revolt and it won't happen, but I'd love to know your thoughts in the meantime!!! I have a lot of the rest actually written, and what I don't have written, I have drafted, so it shouldn't be too long but!!! like I said no timeframe!! I've had a lot of fun with this dynamic, and hearing any opinions would mean a lot to me!!

this was my first time writing reader insert if you saw any instances of she/her where they shouldn't be, no you didn’t. I tried as best as I could to avoid using Y/N because it takes me out of it I don’t even remember if I put it anywhere but sometimes it's hard to get around I did my best ok!!!

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #luke hughes fluff #my hearts going pitter patter pitter patter like I could throw up #need to post this before I fall asleep lmao #*writing

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zaynveir · 1 month ago

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Doing Christmas stuff with the Lads boys ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺

Pairings : zayne/xavier/rafayel/sylus x reader

-its only november but i needed to write something festive

-So I’m new to tumblr and this is my first time writing a post like this so please be nice 😭 if you have any feedback please share!

🎐𓍼ֶָ֢⊹ ࣪ ˖

Zayne

- you guys would definitely go to the local Christmas markets together and spend so much money on overpriced food.

- Because of Zayne’s sweet tooth, you would be checking out the stalls that would offer pancakes/waffles/churros that would have lightly dusted sugar or tons of nutella dripping from it.

- While walking around you would spot something but not buy it, Zayne would notice this and get it later as a gift.

- You would find a big Christmas tree and take a selfie with him and he would use it as the background for his phone.

- I would imagine there would be a street performer playing music and you would just stop and take in the beautiful song and just stand close to one another taking in the moment, hands intertwined.

- He would pick out an ornament to hang on the tree to remember that day.

Xavier

- okay so I think you and Xavier would go see the Christmas lights and walk through them.

- He would hold your hand the entire time and would wrap your scarf around you before giving you a warm smile.

- He would say things like “why does that reindeer look like that?” Or “that tree wasn’t decorated very well” which would make you laugh at how clueless he is.

- The different lighting would make him look even more pretty than he already does and you would capture it in so many photos.

- He would point out his favourite decorations and be so engrossed in the twinkling lights, that he wouldn’t even notice the cold air of the season. He would be so happy to share this evening with you.

- At the end of the night you would get hot chocolate and head back to his apartment, cuddle up in your matching pjs and watch some classic home alone.

Rafayel

- you can’t tell me that Rafayel wouldn’t take you ice skating in the winter months. He’d persuade you into going by saying things like

- “Cmon!…it will be an exercise to see how good your reflexes are from fighting all those wanderers.”

- He would try to be poetic and say “I would love to see you gliding around like a swan”

- You would be careful at first but you’d get the hang of it only falling on your butt 3 times, but Rafayel would surprisingly be clutching onto the side railings for dear life. You’d have to come over to him and teach him

- When you both got more comfortable it felt like the world melted away and it was just you two sharing a smooth dance

Sylus

- I think you and Sylus would do something like decorate the christmas tree together.

- “you don’t have a Christmas tree?! Do people in the N109 zone not have the Christmas spirit??”

“Sweetie I think people have bigger things to worry about than…a tree.”

- You would meticulously place ornaments only for him to place them somewhere else just to get a rise out of you.

- You would creep up behind Sylus and place the tinsel around him only for him to retaliate by chasing you to do the same to you.

- Mephisto would also take part placing the tinsel or decorations around the tree.

- At the end Sylus would lift you up to the top and you would place the star completing it.

#love and deepspace #lnds #lads #lnds zayne #dr zayne #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #xavier lnds #rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel l&ds #l&ds sylus #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader

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crimsonred-hi · 11 months ago

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Controversial Age Gap - Headcanons

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne

• He would be sooo secretive about it in fear of judgement.

• let’s be honest, most of his fans wouldn’t take kindly to him having a conservatively young lass, until they meet her.

• Someone would do an interview of her, and she just acts like she’s a pensioner when she’s actually a uni student.

• If Andrew was gonna date anyone that young she would have to be an old soul. Like already mentally in a nursing home. She would be like super smart and really mature, like he wants a girl he can talk to about literature and poetry, and the fact she’s really young doesn’t mean that much when she completes him.

• Even his friends and band would be find with her, because she acts about 50. She’s always in the corner talking politics with the oldest guy in the pub, because she likes making grown men cry, because she can.

• The Fans would be shocked, because someone would get a video of him getting a quick good luck kiss before he goes on stage, or someone would get a video of them at a festival while she’s fixing his hair for him.

—> Side Rant! Talking about hair! His hair is so healthy now he has her! Like she forces him to sit his arse down once a week so she can deep clean and condition his hair. He’s getting princess treatment.

• I can imagine her running her uni essays through him before they go to her professors, and every time he’s so shocked at how smart she is. Like, he wasn’t this smart, ‘are the younger generation?’ just better he would ask himself.

• We all know he listens to everything, he’s very eclectic. He would love teaching you the blues, he also doesn’t let you play your music, only his. And if you learn his favourite songs and sing them in the car with him, he might cry.

• He’s getting you in any show you want: ya wanna to see Noah Kahan, your going: ya wanna see Lana Del Ray, your going: ya wanna see Taylor Swift, your going. Etc, etc. He’ll get you there, even if he doesn’t like the music that artist makes, he’ll bring his ear plugs and happily watch you enjoy it.

• He would be so careful about talking about you, but it’s a struggle because he’s so proud of you.

• He just thinks you’re incredible. And he wants everyone to know about it, but he’s scared people will judge him for dating someone so much younger than him.

• That jacket in the photo, I bet you think it looks good on him. He thinks it looks better on you. He thinks everything looks better on you; that green jumper he wears all the time, he thinks it looks better when you wear it.

• He loves when your at his concerts, he adores watching you sing and dance along. While everyone thinks he’s winking at them, he’s actually winking at you.

• He loves it when you lay on his chest, you’re so much smaller than him, and watching you distress with the sound of his heart is everything to him.

• She will just spout TikTok and gen z nonsense at him, she once called him ‘submissive and breed-able’ and the look of fear on his face when he turned around to look at her.

—> “what did you just call me…?” He asks his voice cracking with genuine fear, and she just laughs in his face. She just kisses his cheek and runs of giggling.

• He’s probably the first man she’s been with that has a full beard, so she kinda has a little obsession with it. All the other lads she’s dated were her own age and couldn’t grow there pwn full beards, while Andrew is looking sexy as fuck with his beard.

—> He loves when she scratches his beard, because of her obsession with his beard, he practically purrs when she scratches his beard.

—> Also his chest hair, he very rarely goes shirtless but when he does her hands are always desperately trying to get into his chest hair.

• He also gives her beard burn on her thighs and-

• I really like that photo of Andrew, he looks like a god, just me or is he the perfect Poseidon or Hades or Orpheus. Or is he just drop dead gorgeous.

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #hozier x reader #the hoziest #hozier my beloved #hozier fluff #Hozier headcanons #headcanon

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nevergonnaloveagain-hey · 5 months ago

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Please write another dating Hozier headcannon!

a/n: OMG i did not expect the first one to get so much love, thank you SO MUCH! Sorry this one is a bit shorter but I hope you like it either way :)

Here’s part 1 in case you missed it btw

I feel like your relationship would be private but not secret

Like he probably puts a picture of you in some of his concert posts on instagram or brings you along to some festivals or events as his date

Maybe even small and casual mentions of you during interviews, like “yeah, me and my partner did this the other day” or “my partner really likes that…” He’s obsessed with you i fear

You would be spotted pretty often at his shows just singing along and having a good time with your/his friends. He would for sure be looking at you the whole show just so happy to have you there and would occasionally wave or blow you kisses

I don't know why but I love the idea of him teaching you about bees and giving you small updates about his hives and any new additions he’s made.

He’d love to teach you how to play the guitar (if you can’t already) and just sits behind you while guiding your fingers in the correct places to play one of his songs or one of your favourite songs

And he would definitely get so excited for you if you manage to learn even just two chords and play them without his help

If you already know how to play the guitar, he would ask you to play him so many songs and just admire you the entire time you do but completely deny the fact that his loving stare is distracting you

He truly values cozying up together in bed or on the couch and having deep and meaningful conversations about anything and everything that is on your mind that day whether it is something that is bothering you and you need to vent to him about or if it is just about a new tv show you just watched

This man loves cuddling you and will never pass one up, even if he is in the middle of doing something he will either stop and snuggle up with you for a while or continue what he is doing if it’s important but hold you close to his chest while he tries to finish up faster

He would get so excited after reading a new book or poem and would immediately want to show it to you or talk to you about it, especially if it reminds him of you or your relationship. He would not hesitate to read to you if you wanted, even at night if you ever have trouble sleeping and just want to hear his voice

He does not shy away from showering you with compliments, for example, if you are trying out some new clothes for an event, party or a date, he would be endlessly telling you how good you look and would not be able to take his eyes off of you the whole time

He loves to call you pet names like darling or honey at all times even if you are arguing and especially if you haven’t seen each other in a long time

Speaking of arguments, they would get resolved so quickly. He just can’t stay mad at you and would feel terrible even after you two have made up, so expect a lot of kisses to make it up to you

He would also never yell at you during these arguments and would keep calm throughout it, knowing that shouting doesn't fix things any quicker

Since he is so tall, he would love to kiss the top of your head or your forehead on a daily basis

Especially at night, like this man will not go to sleep unless he gives you a soft peck on your forehead

#hozier x reader #hozier fluff #hozier fanfiction #andrew hozier byrne #hozier #hozier x you #hozier headcannon #andrew hozier byrne x reader #hozier x y/n

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dr-spectre · 3 months ago

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I haven't been able to stop thinking about Rainbow Color Inkantation because oh my god this song is so damn hype and cool.

Like... okay, it's not the best Calamari Inkantation we've gotten but it's still incredibly good, at least in my opinion I think its good. 3Mix still beats it in my mind but this song is a STRONG second place.

This song perfectly captures Splatoon 3 to me, it's chaotic, loud, in your face, it celebrates the past, acknowledges the present and has a futuristic edge.

It's so damn blood pumping and adrenaline inducing as each Idol battles for attention and control. It's what you want in a song that's used for the final day of the Grand Festival. It's literally NOW OR NEVER! GO! GO! GO! THIS IS IT!!!

The Idol specific parts when you get the Ultra Signals are my favourite sections of the song, it's SOOOO GOOOOOOODDDDD!!!!! UGHHHH!!!!!! The Squid Sister's section is so sweet, happy and cute as they play the song that they were announced with 9 years ago. Further cementing that their arcs from Splatoon 1 have been finally completed. They sing together in this incredibly harmonized way... It's... it's beautiful...

Off the Hook's section feels so hopeful and inspirational, it feels like Pearl and Marina are just singing to each other and expressing their love for each other... I can imagine Marina hugging Pearl and spinning her around as they sing Ebb & Flow...

Deep Cut's part is pure fucking hype! I LOVE ITTTTT!!!!!!!! I love how they sing something completely original it's so sick man. THEIR CHEERS AND "HA! HA! HA!" So good oh my friggen god bro. Just like the team they represented, their section gives me hope that these three cheeky bandits will continue on and keep making bangers.

I wish i was an expert in music to better explain why i really like this song but alas, i ain't no Anthony Fantano....

I also wanna end off by talking about the final 10 seconds...

Oh. My God. Out of all of the Now or Nevers we've had, those final 10 seconds is my favorite ending to a Now or Never like song... EVER! It just pumps you with so much adrenaline, it's like the song stabbed you with 2 EpiPens in your ear drums. It's so anxiety inducing that you could make a crowd at a rave faint right there and then.

Seriously, go listen to the full 7 minute version of the song if you haven't already, it's pure magic i tell you.

youtube

Also, i headcanon that these three helped with the production of the song.

Some of parts of the song reminded me a lot of DJ Octavio's signature style and i think it would be cute if him, Captain 3 and Acht helped with the production of the song.

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #grand fest #grand festival #grand fest splatoon #grand finale #splatfest #music #now or never seven #now or never #squid sisters #off the hook #deep cut #headcanon #dj octavio #agent 3 #captain 3 #acht dedf1sh #Youtube

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mieldreams · 3 months ago

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Payal

Summary: Anakin Skywalker is the roommate of your best friend's crush. That's all. Well, he's also a pain in the ass. But could one dance and a lucky pair of payal change things?

pairing: Anakin Skywalker x desi!reader (or just reader who's familiar/involved with that culture, no physical descriptions involved)

Warnings: None, except for 'i haven't proofread a single fucking thing' :) sorry for the mistakes in advance.

A/n: wrote something on a whim again (this is the first ever time I've written a proper fanfic tho *_*). Happy navratri y'all

Edit: Here's some payal playbacks aka any moodboard/refs if you want to know (songs, outfits, word meanings etc.)

It was Navratri, the festival in honour of the Goddess Durga. Nine nights of colours, prayers, and a whole lot of dancing. Oh, and the sweets! You couldn't wait to just rot your teeth on those festive delicacies.

It was the 5th night of festivities and today's celebrations were mainly the daily prayer and the dandiya dance. The special event for today however, was the ladies' dance competition. Your best friend had practically dragged your ass to get your name registered along with hers and your other friend Pari's, a half-assed promise of treating you to your favourite food at that fancy restaurant on the other side of the city to bribe you into the elaborate bollywood-esque romance scheme to seduce her crush. "There's no seducing!" she whisper-shouted, standing at the booth where you had to give your name, her cheeks immediately heating up at your insinuation. "I just want him to... see me, you know?" and you couldn't help but mentally scoff at that, why was she so blind? "Plus the price is money," she added, smirking as she picked up the pen to write down the names.

"Well shit, you should've said that first girl, I'm always looking to make me some moolah" your smirk matching hers even though your brain was already exhausted just *thinking* about the hours of practice she was gonna make you do to make sure everything was perfect to the T. That was over a week back, and after hours of choreographing and practising and picking out the costumes, the day was here, and despite all the whining you had done during practice, you couldn't deny that you actually hoped that her plan worked. Was it because you were tired of your oblivious best friend and her equally oblivious man playing dog and the bone with their feelings? Nooo, you could never be tired of your darling best friend's endless rants about how 'handsome he looked at the cafeteria today, in his lucky white cashmere sweater his ex-grandma gifted him in 2019' (how did she know that?) or how 'it's so sad his little sister's goldfish died because it jumped into the pot of boiling water for tea, and they've invited us to its funeral' (what?). And it most definitely wasn't because you were starting to get sick of having to watch them make those nauseating googly eyes at each other every time you hung out, for the past year. (though you wondered if it would only get worse when they finally got together.)

That's right, when, because if those two failed to get their ship sailing after tonight, you were 100% planning on just walking up to each of them, asking them what time they're free for dinner and setting them up on a date yourself. Your mental planning however, was disrupted by the creaking of the metal gate to the lawn space that had been rented for the festival. You turned around, a smile immediately pulling on your lips at the sight of the said man you were downright ready to shake like a maraca till your best friend got her deserved confession (though you expected the same on her end as well, of course). But the smile immediately fell at the sight of another man walking in right behind him. Anakin. What the hell was he doing here? And truly, the scowl that pulled on your face was hardly your fault when his eyes met yours and his lips immediately turned up into that infuriating smirk as the two of them headed towards you. But before you could march up to him and demand why he was here, your best friend ran up to you, gripping your arm to stop herself from crashing into you (you supposed the accidental intervention was for the better, since asking him such a thing might only give him more reason to mock you, it was obvious he was here with Krish, your best friend's crush who was also very unfortunately college roommates with Anakin, seriously how did someone as sweet as that guy get stuck with a moron like him?).

"C'mon it's time for the competition to start, ours is literally the second performance!" She started to drag you by the arm only to stop immediately at the sight of Krish causing you to crash into her. "Are we sure you can dance in the competition when you can hardly manage to walk without stumbling?" his voice immediately caused you to raise your head, glaring daggers as you squared up to throw your own taunt about how he just had to be oh so special and wear black even though tonight's theme was white. Unfortunately, you were beaten by Krish as he elbowed Anakin harshly in the rib, making you snicker at his grunt of pain, before walking even closer towards your best friend. "Aamani... hi," Krish breathed out, shifting his weight from one foot to another. And though you wanted to roll your eyes at how his eyes seemed to literally twinkle as he looked at your best friend, or how he always took time to call her by her full name despite all her friends calling her Manu, like he just had to say it every time to even begin to appreciate her entire being that he was so clearly besotted with, you couldn't help the small smirk that tugged on your lips as you gently pried your arm out of her death grip. (when the hell did she get so strong?) ‘Let's leave them to it, then.’ You thought to yourself.

And with that you walked away towards the small stage, knowing they'd most likely not see or hear anything besides the other person for at least the next half hour. "They're not gonna leave each other's side for the rest of the night, are they?" Ugh, Anakin. How had you forgotten? and now he was following you. Great. "Well, they wouldn't normally, but we do have to perform our dance and we're up second, which means the lovebirds will have to sacrifice at least half an hour for final practice and the performance." Hold on, why were you entertaining him? You stopped suddenly and turned to him with a scowl, "and I'll have you know I can dance very well and I-" "Is that why you're wearing red? for the dance? I thought the theme was white today," the audacity this man had to interrupt you. "Oh did you? Is that why you instead wore black?" you popped a hip with a closed fist resting on your hipbone, raising a jeering eyebrow at him, his eyes immediately drawn to the movement and indirectly your exposed midriff and then the shiny white stud in your belly button. He gulped before quickly averting his eyes to the stage behind you. "I think they announced that they're gonna be starting the competition soon," he replied instead.

Oh shit.

"Good luck" was all he said before walking away towards the audience gathering up for the performances. Oh shit, you really had to find your best friend fast.

Half an hour later with your costumes readjusted and makeup re-touched you were ready to get on stage. You weren't worried about messing up as much as you were about not keeping the same amount of energy for the next half an hour. That's right, your original plans of going mostly unnoticed as your best friend's supporting dancer for a mere 4-5 minutes went down the drain the minute she blabbered about you being a dancer as a kid to the aunty from down the block who was arranging her own group dance performance and immediately downright ordered you to join her group as well. At the time you didn't mind much but now, now you were wondering if you could pretend to sprain your ankle after your first performance to avoid the other one. I mean a whole half an hour of continuous dancing? and worse, the traitor that was your best friend wasn't in the second one and so you'd been entirely alone with a bunch of strangers during the first few practice sessions. (you knew it wasn't her fault the lady didn't ask her to join but you were sure she might have accommodated another person considering it was a big dance number) So here you were now, about 30 seconds away from getting on stage, sending a quick prayer that you don't throw up at any point considering they were pretty much back-to-back dances. As soon as you heard your group being announced the three of you walked onto the stage to get in your positions. You used the brief gap before the music started to scan the huge crowd, immediately spotting Krish almost at the very front of the audience, closest to where Manu was standing, but Anakin wasn't beside him like you expected. Your eyes continuing their scan to find him in the crowd before you even realised what you were doing. Wait, why the hell are you looking for him? You need to focus on the count before the music starts.

And as soon as the music started your body naturally moved to the rhythm and beat, a light laughter bubbling in your chest as you felt the stress melt away with each step. You had forgotten just how fun being on stage actually was, and with the atmosphere of such joy and celebration it was that much livelier. Before you know it, the performance was over, Krish walking quickly to the side of the stage as you got off, still high on the adrenaline and euphoria of performing after so long, and everything had gone smoothly too. It was hard to keep the smile off your face, even more so when you saw Manu and Krish talk animatedly at the bottom of the stairs to the stage, her head thrown back, laughing at something he said and then nodding enthusiastically with a toothy grin. Her expression changing to that of shock for a brief second as Krish immediately picks her up to twirl her around, her laughter dancing in the cold night air once again. It was only your obnoxiously loud teasing whistle that broke their bubble, though only temporarily. You had to go back on stage in five minutes and you wanted to make sure that Manu had company since you wouldn't be by her side for at least the next half an hour. Though realistically you knew it was her who wouldn't be by your side for the rest of the night. Ah, young love... or whatever.

"So now that the two of you have finally been cured of your obliviosis, have fun kiddos," you smirked, "and make sure to be safe." You winked at the pair, earning you a half-hearted angry call of your name from Manu as Krish let out an awkward nervous chuckle, burying his face into her shoulder. Aww, you had embarrassed them. "What? I'm just saying, have her back by 11." you gave a pointed look at him to which he immediately straightened up, enthusiastically nodding to your words while Manu continued to glare at you. "Back by 11? What am I in middle school?" "If you were in middle school I'd want you home by 9 miss, just what the hell sorta parents did you have?" You looked down at your watch realising your 5-minute break was nearing its end. "Okay lovebirds, I gotta go, but seriously have her home safe if you guys decide to leave the ground," you said pointing a finger at Krish, "and you," your finger pointing at Manu now, "don't forget to text me when you're leaving and when you get back home, alright?" She left his arms to quickly walk up the stairs to the top where you stood, pulling you into a bear hug as she rocked you side to side without even giving you a chance to hug her back as she held your arms at your sides, "I'll text you." She freed you from the hug to squeeze your palms in hers, "I had a lot of fun with the dance, thank you. And good luck with your next dance, sorry I won't be there to watch it, I mean we could stay till it gets over. we'll have the rest of the night anyway. Hey Krish, maybe we should stay for–"

But you immediately cut her off, "absolutely not, you've been looking forward to this day for almost a whole month now." You shook your head as you saw her open her mouth to argue, "plus I know you have that scarf you knitted for him in your bag." you smirked as her eyes went wide with surprise, not having expected you to know that. "Pulling that lovely 'oh it's a cold night, isn't it? Here, I just so happen to have this beautiful scarf that I definitely didn't knit just for you, here, let me wrap it around your beautiful neck. Oh no, you don't have to give it back to me at the end of the night, I have a matching one at home that I totally didn't plan as a couple’s thing, no seriously you can keep it' on him? There couldn't be a better opportunity." You laughed as her ears became bright red, "I hate you and your Nancy Drew observation skills." she mumbled out of puffed cheeks before immediately pulling you into another hug. "I love you. Good luck." "Thanks, I love you." In the end, you were about 2 minutes late to your dance and the aunty's scary face as she hurriedly signalled you to get into your position made you cringe on the inside, but oh well whatever, there were so many people you doubted that anyone had noticed there was supposed to be another dancer. You were here now anyway. You were halfway through the dance, your back turned to the audience when you felt a sharp gaze on you. Weird, there were about 100 people watching you, why did you feel this one particular stare stand out? It was only when you completed the circle to turn to face the audience again that you immediately connect gazes with the sharp eyes you had felt on you. Anakin. He was standing at the very back, close to the water coolers and refreshment tables, leaning on one of the empty tables with his arms crossed. His gaze never leaving yours. For a second your thoughts drifted and you were annoyed at how good he looked in the black shimmery kurta, though the top 3 buttons being left unbuttoned was so unnecessarily extra. The sleeves folded over his forearms that stretched the fabric, his collarbones standing out from the open collar. Such a slut. But damn did he look fine. Wait, what the hell? Focus, focus, focus. You couldn't lose count mid-step. And tripping right now would mess up everyone's steps since it was a circular movement. Why the hell would you trip over him anyway? Ugh. And so you focused back on your steps, continuing to feel that strange unwavering gaze on you for the rest of your dance.

Half an hour later, you were entirely done with the dance competition. Your feet hurt, your stomach was grumbling every few seconds and you were sure you'd be getting a headache from being so close to the speakers for so long. Thankfully, the emcee had announced a short break for refreshments and such, before the rest of the dances and then the final event to end the night — the dandiya dance. Were you positively exhausted and maybe even getting real tired of all the dancing and loud music? Most definitely. But Manu had texted you saying they'd be back for the final dandiya dance and you were really hoping to get to dance at least once with her, you know, outside the competition, just for funsies sort of stuff. So your irritation? Nothing some tasty snacks and maybe a cold drink couldn't solve. That was until an unfortunately familiar face came into your view as he plopped into the seat right next to yours at the circular table. Not the two other tables that were entirely empty (wasn't he supposed to be some emo loner who preferred to sulk in a corner?) or even the chair on the other side of the table (though you wondered if having him directly in your line of sight would make it worse). But no, he just had to sit right next to you with his stupid pretty eyes purposefully not meeting yours and his annoying plump lips innocently wrapping around the spoon with a piece of gulab jamun on it. He didn't even like sweets.

"Um— what the hell?" "What?" he looked at you with doe eyes rounded in innocence, and your eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Nothing, never mind," you were too tired and too hungry to start anything right now and what would you even ask, 'Why the hell are you sitting next to me?' 'didn't know there was some rule telling me where I can sit' is what he'd say, maybe roll his eyes at you, the usual stuff. So you continued eating your puff pastry in silence. Until you just had to ask, "I thought you didn't like sweets?" You tried to make your voice sound as non-judgemental as possible, you were only curious after all. "And who told you that?" he raised an eyebrow at you. Truthfully, nobody. But you had noticed the way he always avoided the dessert table at parties and functions, the way he only drank his coffee black; not even your best friend's infamous black forest cake that she had made for Krish's birthday a few months back had tempted him to even grab a Yolanda-approved bite. Yolanda would certainly be proud. Obviously, this had nothing to do with you observing him particularly, you just observed a lot of things around you, and he just very unfortunately happened to be around you a lot, being Krish's roommate and 'brotha from anotha motha' or whatever they said. And yet, here he was eating a freaking gulab jamun that was absolutely dripping with the sugary-est syrup. Did he hit his head on the way or something?

"Did you hit—" "I ran into Krish and Aamani, she told me to give this to you," he interrupted you yet again, turning to face you and pulling out a long silver chain-like thing, which upon a closer look you realised with an elated gasp, was the missing half of your lucky pair of payal, the one you'd been looking for everywhere earlier that evening. "I thought these came in pairs," it was a question from the tone with which he said it, but his eyes remained fixated on the jewellery in his hands, thumb running over the delicate silver with a gentleness you didn't know he possessed. You lifted the hem of your skirt a little, head tilting down to point at your left ankle, "they do. I just couldn't find the other one." You shook your head, going back to taking a sip of your drink, "I like the sound they make when you dance, it's fun, so I thought ek hai toh ek hi sahi," catching his questioning gaze you translated, "if there's only one then so be it, I hardly ever get to wear these anyway." You shrugged, "Manu must've found it later and forgotten to give it to me earlier. I think their dating honeymoon phase is gonna be worse than their not-dating honeymoon phase" You rolled your eyes affectionately, expecting him to make a teasing remark too or at least give you that amused smirk. Instead you saw him give an almost imperceptible yet decisive nod, quickly sliding off his chair to kneel in front of you. "What are you-" He gently lifted your right foot onto his folded knee, his nimble fingers making quick work of the clasp on your anklet. Your stomach fluttered as you felt the warmth of his hands on your cold bare ankle, and you were sure if you still had that sip of cold drink in your mouth, your lungs would be burning from snorting it down the wrong pipe, and definitely not because he might've stolen your breath. His fingers skimmed in a barely there touch down your foot. Till now, his gaze had been entirely focused on clasping the jewellery but now that he was done he lifted his head, looking directly into your eyes from his still kneeling position, your faces a few inches apart. This time you could feel your heart burn. Dang, maybe you should cut down on the greasy food and drinks. His gaze briefly shifted to your lips, but then he quickly got up, dusting off his pants, picking up his empty gulab jamun cup, throwing a quick, "I'mgonnagothrowthis" over his shoulder and then he was gone. He quickly disappeared into the crowds while you still sat there, entirely motionless. Your mind blank except for the phantom feeling from his feather touch on your skin.

It was finally time for the last round of dancing. You had run into Manu and Krish while carrying your trash to the bin, the emptiness of your thoughts completely overthrown by the excited shout of your name. You were surprised they had spotted you first, considering all the doped-up lovey smiles and heart-eyes you noticed when they walked to you. The brief hand squeeze and wide-eyed glance from her let you know you were in for an entire night of dramatic recalling of every detail of their evening and you could only shake your head with a fond smirk. As you all walked back towards the dance area, Manu spoke up, "Oh, did you get the payal I'd given Anakin to give to you?" she looked down at your feet though they were covered with your skirt. You supposed she heard them jingle, the sound louder and more noticeable now that you were wearing both of them. But her question brought back that unwanted memory from earlier in the evening instead, and you fought real hard to keep your face from heating up, inhaling a deep breath as inconspicuously as possible, "uh– yeah, he um.. he did." you nodded your head a little too aggressively, "I mean I got it, yeah." Lightly lifting your skirt to show your pair of anklets safely secured, by the most gentle hands you'd ever felt. This time you felt your ears undeniably heat up. 'What the hell? Why were you so fixated on that one thing? It was nothing. It's not like he was sliding a wedding ring on you or something.' Though for some reason, that thought only made your breath stutter as you felt the lava-like blood now rushing to your cheeks. Ugh, get a grip, get. a. grip. And since you were too busy trying to appear totally normal and shoot the butterflies in your stomach dead, you missed the mischievous look that Manu shot Krish as she gave a quick squeeze to his hand in hers. "Should we really have been spying on them like that? And worse, taking photos of them without them knowing?" and though his question was whispered through a sigh he squeezed her hand right back.

"Oh, hush. 10 years from now when they have cute little munchkins running around, I'll have proof to show that I was the one that set their ship sailing." she answered with a smirk. "You've thought about their kids? 10 years from now??" he raised his brows with an incredulous laugh. "Of course. I think about everything." Even the things that you were too practical to consider. Your words, not hers. 'Blind' is what she would call it. You may have the observation skills rivalling that of the most infamous detectives, but she had The Vision. And she knew in her guts that you two were just meant to end up together. "Oh yeah? Then what have you thought about our 10 years? We got 'cute little munchkins' in our cards too?" he tossed an arm around her shoulders, snuggling her close to him to teasingly tickle at her exposed waist. "Mmm, for now our cards hold a very very important mission." She answered and he sighed again, knowing exactly where this was heading. "Let me guess, mission 'get your best friend and my best friend together for the last dance to recreate another Bollywood-style romantic scene?" he raised a brow, coming to a stop as they reached the edge of the canopy of lights and fabrics. "It's only been a few hours and you've already gained the boyfriend-telepathy skills. Impressive." She wiggled her brows at him while turning around in his arms, "I need you to find Anakin and somehow get him to agree to dance." Sensing his hesitation she quickly continued, "I know it won't be easy, but you'll manage. Once we get them both here we need to make sure they're on opposite sides of the circle so that when the final song comes they'll be paired together" she finished. "You really have thought this through, huh? I can't guarantee that he'll agree to dance, I mean it's Anakin we're talking about," noticing her pleading pout he rolled his eyes in fond exasperation, "but I'll try."

With that, he left and she walked to where you were standing, finishing up talking to some old lady, no doubt held hostage to some good ol’ ‘I knew you since you were thisss little’ talk for the past few minutes that the two had spent whispering their plan, but she quickly patted your cheek and left. "So, tonight's the exclusive dandiya night," she wiggled her brows like it was supposed to mean something, it was. You laughed, not understanding her implication. "What about it?" She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "it's dandiya dumbass. As in, you know, pairs dancing," she continued when she realised your light bulb was still dim. "Oh," you hadn't thought about that, too caught up in the dance competition to care about the other stuff. "Yeah, ‘oh.’ So, who you gonna choose?" "Um...you?" though it came out unsure. "I appreciate the sentiment babe, I really do. I would choose you too–" You raised a brow at that, "but?" "But'" she made a show of dragging out the word then throwing her arms out to her sides, "look at the crowd around you, there's so many kids our age, there's quite a few guys our age too." And finally you caught onto her line of thoughts, narrowing your eyes you shook your head. "Absolutely not. We are not doing this tonight, well I mean you're settled, so I'm not doing this tonight." But the fates seemed to be on her side that night, as she noticed Krish and Anakin talking a few paces away towards the outskirts of the canopy while you both stood at the centre, you hadn't noticed them yet but she could see Anakin shaking his head in a firm no as well. Gosh why were the both of you so difficult? But she also noticed another opportunity walk towards you, and a hopeful scenario played out in her head, courtesy of The Vision. And so she immediately got to work.

"Hey AJ!" she called out to the guy just about to walk by you a few steps away, "didn't you mention that you don't have a partner for tonight's dandiya?" Your eyes widened and you subtly tried to pinch her to stop her from saying the next words but it was too late, "My best friend here also doesn't have a partner, would you mind pairing up with her if you haven't already found someone else?" In speaking to the guy, both of you had turned to fully face him, so she couldn't see Anakin’s reaction anymore. She hoped he had heard what she had just asked this guy. He had. While the two had been devising their plan off to the side, you had been standing at the centre of the canopy taking time to clear your mind and cool yourself. Your gaze was immediately drawn to the gorgeous lights and colourful fabrics that hung above you, mesmerised by how pretty they looked standing out against the dark nighht sky beyond. And though you may never know, Anakin had spotted you right then, standing there in your pretty red ghagra, face tilted to look above you, and it had looked like one of the most gorgeous things he had ever seen, you had looked so pretty with all the lights gleaming in your eyes. And though he was too far to see it, he knew your gaze held that golden twinkle that shone every time you were genuinely happy, though he had hardly been on the receiving end of it. So he had always observed from afar, just as he was doing tonight. His thoughts had been interrupted by the movement of someone approaching him in his periphery. It turned out to be Krish, who clapped him on the back as a greeting and then asked him if he had eaten anything to which Anakin's mind flashed to the almost nauseating sweetness of the tooth-rotting dessert he'd had, immediately followed by the image of the delicate jewellery around your ankle and he quickly shut the door on that thought, instead answering with a single nod.

"Good, good 'cause you're gonna need some energy for a while." Anakin only raised an inquisitive eyebrow in response, while Krish thought of the best, most convincing way to... well, to convince him. "Y/N needs a partner..." "Okay…?" "For the dance, I mean. She needs a partner for the dandiya, she doesn't have one..." he trailed off again, should he just be straightforward with it? "It's you." "What?" Anakin's head snapped to look at him like he was insane. "It's you. You're going to dance with her." "What the fuck? No, I'm not?" it came out as a question because he was baffled as to how his own best friend could say something as dumb as that. Dancing? him? That's fucking funny. "Yes, you are. She needs a partner. You need a partner. The solution is obvious." "Like hell it is. I don't need a partner, 'cause I'm not fucking dancing." He shook his head decisively. "You want to though. You know you want to dance with her." Krish said with a pointed look. "And just what the hell made you think that?" "I'm your best friend, Ani. Do you think I'm blind or—" "Hey AJ!" Aamani's voice had carried over to the two of them, halting their conversation as their attention was now on the two of you, though your backs were turned to them. Aamani's voice was somehow loud enough that they got the gist of it, she had asked this AJ to be your partner, and from the way he walked over to the two of you, your best friend introducing you to each other, him shaking your hand and the dazzling smile you gave him in return, Anakin felt an irrational sorts of a burning pit in his stomach. "Well, looks like the deal's done. She's got her fucking partner." He pushed off the pillar he’d been leaning on, walking away. "Wait! Dude! Where you go—" "Out." and with that he quickly walked towards the back exit of the ground, walking through the gates and out into the cold night. But he had been wrong. AJ hadn't yet agreed to dance with you, or rather Aamani hadn't given him the chance to, stalling him by telling you that he was studying the same thing as you, though he went to a different university. She had been buying time, hoping that any second now, Anakin and his impulsiveness would come barging and say that you've already got a partner. But time was running short as the conversation between the two of you came back to the topic of tonight's dance. "So, you don't have a partner for the dandiya either?" she heard him ask. Where the hell was Anakin? But her movie-like vision for his entrance onto the scene immediately shattered when she turned to see what was holding him, only to see Anakin nowhere in sight and her boyfriend standing alone with a small frown on his face. Catching his eyes she sent him a questioning look, to which he only shook his head dejectedly. And she knew her plan had failed. For her, at least. Because when she turned back around, she saw you agreeing with AJ to meet up under the canopy before the start of the dance before he excused himself, mentioning something about helping move the chairs or whatever. You too said something about meeting up with one of your older hometown friends you'd run into right before the dance competition. You'd promised to come find her when you were free to catch up on things. And so you left as well.

But at that point, Manu could only think about how wrong this was. She knew it was her who had asked AJ to dance with her best friend, so she couldn't blame him. But Anakin – Anakin she could blame. And she could also just about drag his ass back here to ask him what the hell was he doing? With the way the whole payal scene had gone, and knowing Anakin's possessive nature, she was almost 100% sure he'd metaphorically sweep you off your feet (before literally sweeping you off your feet during the dance). So why the hell was her best friend going to be dancing with a guy she was (frustratingly) getting along with instead?

Krish had walked his way back to stand behind her, but not even his warmth and the comforting palm he ran up and down her bare arm could stop the disappointed frown pulling on her lips. She turned to her boyfriend with a concerned expression, "Did I just accidentally push my best friend towards the wrong guy, with the right guy storming off to who knows where?"

Part 2: Jhumka

a/n: so.... there's 4 more nights left... do you think they'll ever get their dance? 👀

A/n: Thank you all so much if you spent your time on this trash wreckage fuelled by finals stress and unfulfilled dreams </3

Would love to hear feedback on this one! Don't hesitate to send me any ques or just anything that comes to mind relating to our dearest love-haters and the overzealous matchmakers ;)

#miel works #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars #hayden christensen x reader #slow burn #anakin imagine #anakin fluff #hayden christensen #fanfic #fanfiction #desi reader #payal universe

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sserpente · 1 year ago

Text

The Mistletoe Tradition

There was only one piece of decoration left in the box now—it was a dew-fresh mistletoe complete with a red ribbon. And you knew just where to put it.

With a smile, you danced over to Astarion and held the green plant above your head. The vampire spawn looked up, confused and flustered both at the same time.

“Wanna know what my favourite Yule tradition is?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” he purred.

“Whenever two souls are caught under the mistletoe, they have to kiss.”

A/N: I’m not sure if Christmas/Yule is a thing in Faerûn but if it wasn’t… I sure made it a thing now! Worked in some of his actual quotes for it to be even more relatable because we're all simps, lol. Also using Yule and Christmas interchangeably here because I can. Merry Christmas to you all! ♥

Words: 2197

Warnings: fluff

“Jingle Bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…” Humming to yourself, you rummaged through your bag to take a closer look at the items you had snatched on your journey today. A bag full of peanuts, perfect to still your hunger on the road, a new dagger you had taken from a corpse, for your old one was falling apart at the hilt, a letter from an Iron Fist written to Lord Enver Gortash himself, and—perhaps most importantly—a little snow globe you had found in an abandoned cottage. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing and had definitely been worth Lae’zel’s eye roll.

You were headed towards Baldur’s Gate and decided to rest in the Elfsong Tavern where Gale, Wyll, and Halsin were currently discussing the price of a room to stay in for the next couple of days. The air smelled like mulled wine and pine cones, and the tables in the tavern were decorated with tree branches, candles and sliced oranges and cinnamon sticks. The atmosphere was lovely—festive. You leaned against Astarion with your cheek against his chest, a sigh escaping your lips.

The pale elf was quite used to your—at least by his standards—unusual behaviour by now. Well… sort of. He’d expected more hostility toward him after the night he tried to bite you, that much you knew. Instead, you’d offered to help and… huh, secretly drooled all over him.

He certainly knew what he was doing and you hated that it worked. You didn’t want to turn into a giggling and blushing mess in his presence and yet… that was exactly what happened. Every. Single. Day. You tried to hide it as best as you could but at this point, you were pretty certain that he knew you were a hopeless case whenever he was near. And once you’d started sleeping with each other… you had become putty in his hands entirely, desperate for his touch even when it wasn’t sexual.

You offered him a cuddling dose daily now and you never let go until he did.

“All right, everyone. We’re settled. The owner has agreed to give us one of the suites upstairs. It has thirteen beds, its own washing area, and a fireplace. I don’t know about you but I am knackered,” Wyll announced as he cracked his bones.

“You go ahead without me. I’d like to take care of something real quick. I won’t be long,” you said, the idea thundering through your head with a start having you beam from the inside out.

Gale lifted a hand as if to raise everyone’s attention before speaking. “I hope so! I have a perfectly hearty rabbit stew planned for supper.”

It had taken the inn owner ten gold pieces and a lot of convincing to get you a Yule Tree. Was it important in midst of everything that was happening? Possibly not. Were you still humming Christmas songs yet again as you carried a small box full of ornaments and decorations up the wooden stairs to your room? Absolutely.

Gale was already cooking. They all knew the very moment you entered the room with it that the tree someone had brought up in the meantime was your doing. And now, while the others were getting ready to rest for the day, you began decorating the room as if you didn’t have a care in the world. And for just a moment, you pretended you didn’t.

You spotted Astarion glancing at you from the corners of your eye. He’d crossed his arms before his chest, looking as handsome as ever and even more so now with his hair still a little damp from getting the dust of the road off of him.

“Need something?” You smiled, noticing how he admired the pine cones dipped in molten silver and the delicious-smelling orange slices on the tree for just a second too long. The straw stars you were specifically proud of as you stood on your tiptoes and stretched to put the biggest one on the tip of the tree, completing your masterwork.

“Oh, don’t mind me… I’m just enjoying the show.”

You blinked at him, gnashing your teeth as you felt a treacherous heat creeping up your cheeks, for his gaze was by no means fixed on the tree anymore but your behind. At times it was still hard to believe this incredible elf was attracted to you of all people.

“Is this really necessary? I mean, really? You’re wasting our time and energy on decorating a tree?”

“Hey… we won’t know yet if that’s our last Christmas. I don’t mean to be pessimistic but you know just as well as I do that there is a good chance we won’t make it out of this alive. I might as well enjoy the little things until… I can’t. You never know. Besides, this is the first time in weeks we’re sleeping with a roof over our heads. We have beds and a fireplace. I would be silly not to decorate a little, especially with a recent murder right next door.”

“Well… I suppose… but don’t expect me to help you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, oh fangy one! I’m actually done and it looks absolutely amazing, if I may say so.”

Astarion scoffed—playfully so. It was then Halsin joined, admiring your tree up close with a second portion of stew in his hands.

“Well, I think it looks beautiful. There’s no better way to get into the festive spirit than with a little bit of nature in one’s home.”

You fought hard to hide the chuckle bubbling up your throat when Astarion rolled his eyes as soon as the druid turned away again.

“The man really can’t shut up about enjoying the freedom of nature’s gifts.”

You couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing. Needless to say, your companions’ shocked expressions made you cackle even more but perhaps the surprise on Astarion’s face was what brought you even more joy than the way he had mimicked Halsin.

“In the end, it won’t be the mind flayers who kill me. It’ll be you,” you choked out, wiping your eyes with the ball of your thumb. Gods, you were actually crying from laughter.

There was only one piece of decoration left in the box now—it was a dew-fresh mistletoe complete with a red ribbon. And you knew just where to put it.

With a smile, you danced over to Astarion and held the green plant above your head. The vampire spawn looked up, confused and flustered both at the same time.

“Wanna know what my favourite Yule tradition is?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” he purred.

“Whenever two souls are caught under the mistletoe, they have to kiss.”

“Do they now?”

You grinned.

“Well… in that case, we better not risk the wrath of whatever god came up with it.”

“That would be Frigg, wife of Odin and mother of Baldur who never wanted the mistletoe to be forgotten again after Loki—“ You didn’t manage to finish your sentence for in the next moment, Astarion pulled you close and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was a promise and a reward, a display of affection… and a small gesture of care warming your heart.

“How do you always do that?” you murmured against his mouth, breaking the kiss just long enough to draw a deep breath. “Leave me wanting for more? Tempting me?”

“Tempting you, hmm? Well… You know what they say… the only way to cure a temptation… is to give in to it.”

A little squeak escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. You pressed your lips together to a thin line, eyes wide as your hand flew up to your mouth to cover it. But of course, Astarion had heard you. Amused, he quirked an eyebrow.

“What was that?”

“N-nothing.”

“Really? Because I think I heard quite the delectable little noise coming from your lips just now.”

“N-no. Oh gods, you have to stop this. I will melt, Astarion. I will literally melt and then you can go get a mop and wipe me up!”

Astarion laughed, surprise mixing with delight. “Oh, darling, I could go all night… as you well know,” he purred.

Another squeak. He’d caught on to it now, of course—that the reason for those inhumane sounds escaping your body was all his doing. Oh, for fuck’s sake…

“Okay, that’s it.” Arms akimbo, you narrowed your eyes at him. You were all but flustered when you grabbed the collar of his shirt with such vigour, the tiniest hint of surprise and hesitation flittered across his face before his smug smirk returned and you kissed him yet again, longer and more passionately this time.

“You really will be the death of me” you breathed against his lips. “It’s a nice way to go though, I won’t complain.” The urge to rip off his clothes there and then grew stronger with every passing second. You knew he wasn’t ready yet, despite his relentless teasing and you’d be the last person to push him but… judging by how he wrapped his arms around your waist yet again and pressed you closer to his body yet again, a heartfelt kiss was never off limits.

You sighed against his lips, the mistletoe dropping to the ground. Only the gods knew what would have happened if you had not been interrupted despite your fellow companions still in the room but alas, the door burst open with a bang so loud you both flinched.

“This… is… AWESOME!” When Karlach entered the room, she was wearing the ugliest Yule sweater you had ever seen. Tinsel and two baubles were hanging from her horn and in her hands, she held a massive candy cane and a mug of what you assumed was eggnog. “I LOVE Christmas! Oh, you got us a tree! We should go and buy presents for each other to unwrap tomorrow!”

“Karlach, please, it’s late and I’m tired,” Astarion complained.

“Fiiiine, tomorrow morning then. A kid downstairs just told me about this fat guy called Santa who climbs through the chimney and puts gifts under the tree if you leave him cookies and milk. Do we have cookies and milk? We have to get cookies and milk!”

You laughed. In that case… you certainly had a long night ahead of you before you could get a good night’s sleep.

Everyone was fast asleep by the time you got up and tiptoed across the cool floorboards on naked feet in the dark, past the crackling fire in the centre of the warm and cosy room, and toward Astarion’s bed. You could hear the wind blowing outside the tavern in the dead of night as you climbed under the covers and cuddled up to your lover who had, without a doubt, been expecting you. Astarion wrapped you in his arms, his lips grazing your bare neck ever so slightly.

“Hello, darling.”

At peace and content, you both listened to the instruments Gale enchanted to play quiet music to lull you all to sleep.

“Well, aren’t you brave, revealing your lovely neck to a vampire like that?”

You chuckled into his pillow, stretching even more.

“You know… I think we’re past the point now where I have to tell you each night that you can… I mean… if you’re hungry just… feed on me, alright?”

“R-Right.” For a moment, a both vulnerable and surprised expression washed over his handsome face—but it was gone before your memory could properly capture it, not to mention the darkness around you made that very difficult. He was so incredibly good at masking his feelings, that you longed to cuddle the shit out of him and tell him that it was all going to be okay. “Well… I’ve only just learned how wonderful it feels to have a choice and have your boundaries respected, all thanks to you. I’d actually prefer if you asked.”

So instead, you settled for wriggling yourself under the covers until he stirred.

“That’s… that’s good. That’s very good,” you whispered as you cuddled up to him even more.

“So? Can’t you sleep or are you just too excited until morning to see me again, love?”

You chuckled. “Your bed is more comfortable than mine.”

In the dark, it was hard to tell whether Astarion’s confusion was real or feigned. It was amusing nonetheless. “You will find that all the beds in this room are the same, pet.”

“No. No they aren’t. Mine doesn’t have you in it.”

“Oh… my cheeky little pup.”

Your chuckle turned into a childish giggle as a jolt of electricity rippled through you as if Gale had hit you with a lightning blast.

“You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you?” you whispered.

Astarion hummed in response. “Well… yes. Though I have to admit I have never met anyone displaying their excitement as openly as you, darling.”

“I’ll make sure to never stop. Merry Christmas, Astarion.”

The vampire spawn sighed when you shuffled even closer and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

A/N: And Merry Christmas to you all as well! ♥ I had to dedicate this year's Christmas Imagine to Astarion. I fell so hard for him thanks to Neil, it's insane. I hope you'll spend some lovely days with your loved ones! ♥

#astarion #astarion imagine #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fluff #astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin imagine #astarion ancunin x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion ancunin x tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 imagine #neil newbon

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lovesickhughes · 8 months ago

Note

Saw your requests are open and just had to send an ask 🤭🤭 How would our bedsy react to the reader performing in Coachella?? 😫🤭💗

a/n: thanks for sending this in !! sorry it's a bit short ! i also didn't proofread, hope you enjoy 🥰🫶🏻

tags: connor bedard x reader

warnings: suggestive material

word count: 0.6k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

breathlessly, you viewed the thousands of fans cheering and screaming after coming to the end of your latest hit single from your upcoming album. these were the moments you lived for; being able to see countless amounts of people connect to music that came from the depths of your heart. you were given the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to perform at one of america’s largest music festivals, coachella, headlining for the weekend of concerts.

growing up, you would have never expected your life to end up in the state it was in now. ruling the music charts week after week and touring worldwide, who knew one upload to youtube covering your favourite song would have led you to today.

you felt endless amounts of adoration for your fans and the support you received publicly, but what you loved even more, was the special someone who was your number one fan behind the scenes.

connor and you had been established for just under two years, meeting when you visited chicago to attend a blackhawks game while you were in town touring. the star hockey player and you had been asked to join together to promote the team and hockey league, and as you were about to leave to finish the last minute necessities to prepare for your performance the next day, connor had pulled you aside and asked for your number.

within weeks media outlets were buzzing with the newest, hottest couple, and when you hard launched your relationship with connor after posting a picture of the two of you leaving his game, wearing his jersey, fans went to their greatest extent to support you even further.

you blew kisses to the crowd and waved to the bodies that reflected you, backing away with adrenaline shooting through your veins from the exhilarating feeling of performing. when you exited the stage, the backstage crew swarmed in assistance, taking off your ear piece and microphone back from your waist, and another member handed you a water which you exhaustedly thanked her for and began chugging.

amongst you, remained several more crew members bouncing from area to area as the next performer was set to begin their routine, you heard yells from each corner of backstage to the other, and the crew member who had been assisting you the entire weekend began to lead you to the trailers where all the artists were residing in for the weekend.

you thanked her again, bidding her a goodbye before stepping up the small metal stairs and opening the trailer door, only to be welcomed to the familiar face that lit up the room.

"hey," you exasperated through a smile, immediately walking over to the small couch that had been built in. connor immediately opened his arms to you, rushing to plant yourself in his lap, resting your arms around his neck, where his own arms found their way to your hips, he smiled before leaning into you to give you a quick peck to your lips.

"hey, good job babe, you did really good, the crowd was having a time out there." he spoke as his hand ran up and down your back, igniting goosebumps all throughout your skin. "i really liked this set, i like how you changed your typical intro song to that other one, it really got people going."

"aweh, thanks babe- yeah, it was really fun this time, it just felt so good to be up there, y'know," you shrugged, leaning more into the hockey player beneath you.

"and," connor dragged out, "i really liked this set's outfit. just something about it, makes me wanna..." he trailed out, brushing your hair out of your face and meeting your lips. you inhaled as you kissed him back, readjusting on the couch so now you were straddling his waist, and his hands gripped your hips tighter. he began to trail kisses from your jaw, down to your neck, then collarbone, and then shoulder. he stopped before he looked up at you and met your gaze, "and as much as i love it, it's gonna have to come off." he declared.

#connor bedard x reader #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #connor bedard fic #connor bedard imagine #nhl fic

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ofmdrecaps · 30 days ago

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11/25-26/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR: Happy Belated Birthday Kristian!; Taika Waititi; Rachel House & David Fane; Joel Fry; Samson Kayo; Samba Schutte; Vico Ortiz; Anapela Polata'ivao; Guz Khan; Nat Torres; Damien Gerard; Fan Spotlight; Our Flag Means Fanfiction; Never Left Podcast; OFMD Spin the Bottle; Love Notes;

Also delayed due to Tumblr Blip, sorry all! I have some other great news though! The absolute sweetheart @lowrahh has volunteered to join my team to help get Alt Text added to the recaps! She's on the opposite side of the world so we may have some time syncing differences, but she's been helping me the last few days and it's been amazing! Thank you so much @lowrahh! Alrighty, on to the recap!

== Happy (Belated) Birthday Kristian! ==

Happy belated birthday to our dear Wee John-- Kristian Nairn! (11/25/2024) And guess what, he's on Bluesky now!

Source: Kristian Nairn's Instagram

Also, coming soon, is a new track by Kristian and MikeT! - Echo!

Source: Elliptical Sun Instagram

= Taika Waititi =

More interviews with Taika about Interior Chinatown! Silly things like "if you had an entrance song, what would it be?"

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Source: Interior Chinatown Hulu

= Rachel House & David Fane =

Rachel House, our Mary Reed, and our beloved Fang, David Fane were out at the Moana 2 Premiere in Australia! Moana 2 comes out in the US the 27th! Check it out if you can!

Source: ABC Pacific

Just some quick pics of our cast <3

Source: For Your Ref Pod

And David just being adorable.

Source: Awhimai Frasier Instagram

Source: Pere Yonce Instagram

And some silly interview questions at the premiere!

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Source: Flavaradio

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Source: Kzonemag

= Joel Fry =

Our dear Frenchie is joining Ncuti Gatwa in the Doctor Who Christmas Special this year!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Bsky

= Samson Kayo =

Samson is going to be in the new Voltron cast along with several other amazing stars!

Source: Amazon MGM Studios and AdoptOurCrew Bsky. and Samson's instagram

= Vico Ortiz =

Our ever busy Jim Jimenez, Vico Ortiz is joining "Reckless Spirits", a short comedy film! There's a crowdfunding effort for getting it going! Any gifts made today through EOD on Thursday, November 28 will be DOUBLED by a match (up to $7,500). Wanna learn more or support it? Check out: https://bit.ly/reckless-giving

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Source: Hello My Name is Vee's IG

Some love from a fan of one of Vico's voice acting works!

Source: Vico's Bsky

I believe this has been share before but Vico is out sharing things they've been tagged in so let's post it again! The audio version of Blood City Rollers by V.P. Anderson, Tatiana Hill, and featuring voicework by Vico! Check it out here!

Source: Vico's Bsky

= Samba Schutte =

One of the short films Samba starred in - Best Life - has been nominated for the LA Independent Film Channel Festival for 2024!

Source: Valerie and Chaney IG

= Anapela Polataivao =

In case you haven't cried today, here's Rachel House, sending love to Auntie! (Anapela Polata'ivao)

In other Tinā news, it'll be heading to the 2025 Palm Springs International Film Festival in the World Cinema Now section at select locations between Jan 4-10! To get tickets, visit the Palm Springs Site!

Source: Tinā the Film Instagram

= Guz Khan =

Guz is sending out some love to these bakers!

Source: Guz Khans IG stories

And here's Guz showing off in his sweet ride.

Source: Guz Khan's Threads

= Nat Torres =

Nat Torres, writer extraordinaire, always bringing a smile to our faces <3

Source: Nat's Instagram

= Damien Gerard =

As always, our Father Teach, aka Damien Gerard, one of the coolest cat dads on the web, loves to keep us busy with cat content!

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Our Flag Means Fanfiction =

New mini-episode of Our Flag Means Fanfiction is up! This time covering The "HighSchool Jukebox" Fics by @oatmilktruther! Read by BabyKraken! Check it out here!

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction Spotify.

= Never Left Podcast =

A new episode of Never Left is out on your favorite Podcast Platforms! This part 2 of the Flags set-- you can check it out on their linktr.ee!

Source: Never Left Podcast Instagram

= Seven_Sugars Spin the Bottle =

For those of you on Bluesky and Twitter, you may have seen this very fun post by Ashley (aka Seven_Sugars). It's a gif of our cast and a spinning bottle! You just screenshot the gif and it tells you who you get! (I got Lucius which is 100% awesome by me, call me Pete because I love that man). Wanna try it out? Visit Ashley's Bsky!

Source: Seven Sugars Bsky

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies! There's definitely been some reminders lately that this time of year isn't the best time for everyone. Remember to be kind to yourself and don't beat yourself up too much ok? Sometimes you do everything right. Sometimes you do your best, you bust your ass, and then shit goes horribly wrong the last second. Whether it's a draft on something fan related, or getting to work on time, or preparing a candid talk with someone or being careful driving on ice, and someone else hitting you from behind. Whatever it is-- life sometimes just does not cooperate with your expectations.

To top it off, that can be very hard if you've already been dealing with so much. It really can. It can seem like.. NOTHING goes right, and like everything is frustrating, and when your cup is already full of nonsense it just starts overflowing.

You know what the good news is? Your cup will slowly drain over time the kinder you are to yourself. Rest helps it drain, love helps it drain, comfort helps it drain so you can have more room for the next thing that happens. Right now it feels like too much because your body and your mind need a break, and you deserve a break. Winter time is normally meant for human beings and animals to hibernate! To recover with the seasons! But now we work all the time, and it can burn us out real fast. Take care of yourselves, take breaks, and if shit goes wrong, keep taking breaks, if you can, until it doesn't feel so hard anymore <3 I hope you all rest this week and have some self-care time off if you have it-- and if you don't, please be safe out there. Thinking of you.

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kitorin · 2 years ago

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how they react when they catch you simping for a fictional character

pairings. shidou ryusei x gn!reader, itoshi rin x m!reader, mikage reo x gn!reader (separate)

contents. crack, smau, a sexual joke and a half (it's just ryusei being ryusei) shinonome akito slander (I'M SORRY I PROMISE I LOVE HIM BUT RIN DOESN'T), exposing my taste in men, written all in lowercase, spoilers for sounds of a summer event (project sekai)

a/n. i thought of this bc i questioned if i liked rin or akito more 😭, and sorry for rin's being so long since i had the most ideas for him :>. i also have no confidence with crack so please bear with me and it's my first smau

shidou ryusei - seong taehoon (how to fight / viral hit)

when he caught you gawking at the new viral hit chapter, taehoon specifically, he immediately joined you (as he should)

he straight up yelled "smash" at that one scene where taehoon's snacking and he's wearing a tight shirt so you can see all of his muscles

he begs you to re read the series with them, and now you two read each update every week together, fully engaged in the story and taehoon's abs

attempts to recreate all of taehoon's kicks (i headcanon that does taekwondo and has a black belt :>), proudly shows them off to you, with a huge grin on his face (please fawn over him too)

also extensively practices so he can show them off by incorporating them into soccer somehow (doesn't matter if it ain't practical he just wants to impress you), and if he ever has to use them on anyone making you uncomfortable

he probably has a folder in his gallery dedicated to every panel he loves (which is basically all) and recreates his absolute favs (with you as his photographer)

makes a lot of jokes about being in love with taehoon (so do you), but he'd stop them if they made you uncomfortable, and reassures you that a drawing can't compare to how sweet, amazing and perfect you are

honorable mentions to baek seongjun being his second favourite

wants you to do taekwondo as well cause now he has a thing for it after discovering taehoon

"i swear to god men who do taekwondo and can actually fight are so hot,"

"isn't that you?"

"... you don't agree with me...?"

"no you have a brilliant point"

itoshi rin - shinonome akito (project sekai)

during the sounds of a summer festival event you spent so much time glued to your phone, full combo-ing literally every hard, expert, and master song you possibly could, leveling up all character ranks, sacrifice countless of hours of sleep (if it's for akito it's very much worth it), and even contemplate spending money

you even tweeted about how badly you need him

rin notices the bags under your eyes, and the lack of sleep you had been getting, he's worried and when he asks you you're too focused on the event story to even register what he says, as you're on the brink of sobbing at young akito and ena

he observes as well, and immediately is jealous of how much of your attention this fictional character was receiving from you

as you're about to spend another few hours grinding, he stops you

"dumbass you need to sleep, and give your eyes a break"

"no i don't, i need summer festival akito,"

"who and what?"

soon you're rambling on how much akito's backstory and struggles already hurt, and how wholesome yet painful the event story was, with akito quitting soccer and ena encouraging him to give music a try, and it only nurtures rin's envy

"you're going to cry for a ginger guy who quit soccer and started his ambition because of his older sister? how lukewarm,"

"yes i am?? and he looked cute as a child and now he's a pretty boy with the best vocals. their event cards are beautiful too i need them. didn't you start soccer because of sae anyways?"

"tch"

"rin... are you jealous?"

"... no, i just don't get what you see in this idiot. i never quit soccer when it got hard and i know how to persevere, i don't give up, i don't experience despair when someone's better than me-"

"so you're jealous,"

"no"

"rin you always have and always will be my number 1. akito can't do anything you've done for me, and can't even compare to how pretty you are,"

"damn right,"

despite being salty, he still installs the game to read the stories, out of pure curiosity and wants to understand what kind of stuff you like

he ends up adoring ena and akito's relationship (the supportive part only ofc), as well as tsukasa and saki's (and secretly wishes sae was as affectionate as shizuku since she reminds him of sae in the past)

you do not shut up when you seem him struggle with hitorinbo envy on master

"I THOUGHT YOU SAID AKITO WAS LUKEWARM,"

"he is, i was just curious why you liked the stories so much,"

"YOU SPENT EVERY FREE CRYSTAL ON THE FIND A WAY OUT EVENT AND NOW GRINDING FOR MORE,"

"... i want his boyfriend"

"YOU READ THE MAIN STORY TOO ?! and you don't need touya you have me"

"THAT'S HOW I FELT ABOUT AKITO,"

"YOU FEEL INFERIOR TO A LUKEWARM GINGER?"

mikage reo - kang tae moo (business proposal)

he heard you squealing at a scene of tae moo getting flustered after sunghoon suggested his feelings for hari

he thought that you were having a heart attack and thought something was wrong

reo doesn't even need the show's context to be invested immediately, as he joins you and watches with great interest

after seeing you simp over tae moo, in secret, he binge watches the rest of the series in attempt to mimic any romantic scenes

full on posts the "do you know what my credit card and my love for y/n have in common? they simply have no limit" on his not very private twitter account, and it leaves you flustered by all the comments saying how lucky you are and their jealousy

deletes any comment revealing the source of that line (silently apologises to the writer(s) and credits ahn hyo seop for its brilliant execution)

little does he know nagi made a tweet exposing him

also recreates other cute scenes from the show, and starts looking for more kdramas to watch and recreate (still gets fully absorbed in the plot and dialogue)

innocently smiles when you realize he's just a kang tae moo copycat

"i didn't copy him i'm the inspiration behind him, rich, smart, pretty and utter perfection,"

"i can't deny the second part... i can't believe nagi's seen business proposal,"

"wait what?"

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #shidou ryusei #shidou ryusei x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x male reader #blue lock x male reader #itoshi rin #mikage reo #mikage reo x reader #mikage reo x you

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danishphoner · 7 days ago

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The Last Shadow Puppets: fulfilling your kinkiest fantasies

Alex Turner and Miles Kane stand on one side of the success of The Last Shadow Puppets, who played Open'er Festival. On the other, you can see multitudes of fans trying to find evidence of the so-called ‘bromance’ of their favourites. And they, as if out of spite, only provoke further fantasies of their admirers. Even during the interview, they talked to me about fulfilling their kinkiest fantasies. See what else I managed to talk to them about!

Written by Katarzyna Gawęska Originally translated by everybodytriesbeinghuman on Tumblr

Translation below

Your duet is comparable to John Lennon and Paul McCartney’s, Steven Tyler and Joe Perry’s. Let’s start from compliments – what do you appreciate most in a teamwork?

MK: I think, it won’t be anything new, if I say, it’s thanks to Alex that our every song is so polished – no one else could make them better. Thanks to him, I am trying to push my own boundaries and, to be honest, I wouldn’t be so eager to do that without Alex. I suppose both of us could say that about our teamwork. We just understand in what creative direction each of us is heading towards. It’s difficult to explain, because we don’t need words to describe our thoughts, which melody each one is working on, which song he’s trying to make – cheerful or sad. I don’t know how it works – it’s just that sort of chemistry between us.

How is your work different from the Arctic Monkeys one or from your solo career, Miles?

MK: When I’m working solo, I’m sad, because I turn into a little frightened boy.

AT: When we are working on The Last Shadow Puppets records, we don’t know who's going to sing what. And because of that, we surely have to change our ways of writing, we don’t know everything from the get-go. It’s easier for me to write a song aimed towards myself – I’m writing a certain lyric, melody and I know I am going to sing it, so I’m already aware of my own possibilities. And the way Miles plays the guitar gets me really excited – his music takes me into a whole new world. When it disappears, this excitement is gone. It may sound like working with AM wouldn’t give me any satisfaction – I want to highlight it isn’t like that. With Miles, it’s just… different.

MK: I remember, one time Alex came up to me and said, “I want to see how you spit, while singing >>sick puppy<< in >>Bad Habits<<”. I called him a madman afterwards.

AT: Yeah…

MK: But he was right. No one else would say something like that to me, It was beautiful.

AT: You see, Kasia, I just tell Miles about my fantasies, and he tries to fulfill them, even when they are very kinky, like in that case.

Alex, you just explained, why your fans are suspecting you two of having a romance. You are very close to each other, but an artist needs a little more space and freedom to create, right?

MK: While making this record, we gave each other lots of space. EYCTE is the last song which we wrote. It was created from other unfinished pieces. It was supposed to be thousands of different tunes, but we made it into a one. Before I came into the studio, Alex sent me a demo on which he played the organs and then added different lyrics to it. That’s how it came out, and it’s a great example that Alex had a lot of space. When we played this song, I felt like I’ve never heard it before, which obviously wasn’t true. I was listening to the same thing as before but in a completely different form. And because of that, I started to feel excited again.

“EYCTE” is also your album’s title. Did you give your fans what they were expecting?

AT: Definitely! We hid it behind a red curtain, and underneath is everything they desired.

And what were your expectations for this record?

MK: We tried to bring something fresh into our work. We wanted to make this album different from the previous one. In some way, we got over with it and decided to not force things. It’s just me and Alex, that’s how we are and we don’t wanna change. And I think it turned out very well.

Your album cover turned out very well as well. When people see it, they want to give it a listen.

AT: I think when an artist decides to put something on the album cover or its booklet, they do it in order to show the listeners exactly what they’re gonna get from it. Actually, I don’t really know why I just said that, because it’s pretty obvious. Sorry, I’ll stop binding my time. Let’s say I made six albums, maybe five of them succeeded. The photography on the cover is a dancing Tina Turner. I’ve discovered it a few years ago and immediately thought it would fit perfectly, especially after changing the background to gold. There is a lot of grace in this picture, which is an element in TLSP’s music. It’s a dynamic portrait, which reflects our work brilliantly. As you may have noticed, it’s hard for me to describe some spectrums. Right now, I don’t know how to explain the fact that this cover is an amazing picture. The emotions you start to feel when you see it. Well, you’ve mentioned it by yourself, and I’m very glad you’ve noticed something so wonderful. I can only hope that more people will follow your thinking, and this cover picture will eventually make them listen to it. And yeah, maybe the sounds won’t disappoint them, either.

When I am listening to your tunes, I feel relaxed and calm. Then it hits me and I start wondering how it had come, if the lyrics are so aggressive and sexual. What does going from one extreme to another bring to your work?

AT: Another interesting thing you’ve noticed! It’s incredible that someone gets what’s happening inside my head! I’m telling you how it is. I very often find myself thinking that if the lyric drags on the right and the music on the left, then if we make both of those elements function we’ll create a balance. None of the elements will lean too much on it’s side, because it will be balanced by the opposite. Despite that I won’t generalize and in the “Bad Habits” case it’s the other way around – everything is dragged to the one side. I mean, there are some bows, which create a totally different impression of what our band is like. Not all the time everything has to be black and white – grays in our music are also very welcome. Personally, I’d rather listen for the rest of my life to what you’ve mentioned: meeting extremes in any song. I love that feeling when I turn on a tune and I think I know where how it’s all gonna go, and then the creator shows that he's playing with me and that, in reality, I know nothing. I don’t like predictable tunes.

Talking about lyrics, I couldn’t resist asking. Alex, there are very little lyric-writers better than you. People describe your style as poetic yet simple. Personally, I would agree with that. But how you would describe your writing style?

AT: You ask questions, which require thinking! Maybe… No, that’s not it. Or maybe… That one not as well…

Miles, maybe you’ll try to help him?

MK: For me it’s easy. Alex’s lyrics are like attempts to cross the Nile river on a raft. That’s how surreal they seem to me.

[Laughs] I think that’s the best comparison out there.

AT: [Laughs] Miles has a talent.

MK: No need to thank!

AT: And I still don’t know how to answer it. Miles handled it good, and I think that you [Miles] would describe me better than I could myself.

I’ll let go of descriptions, but I’ll ask you about the general sound of the album. Do you pay lots of attention to the technical side of making music? This album doesn’t seem modern, it’s more like…

AT: Something from the future?

I planned to say, like something from a few decades back, but your different perspective seems very interesting.

AT: [Laughs] We cut a deal then! But it’s a really fascinating situation! We were very excited that for the first record to make everything in an old-fashioned way. This time we weren’t so stubborn about making it so retro-like. We didn’t cut it off completely, but it just wasn’t as important. There are some old-fashion sounds on this record, but if you hear them on the radio, you’ll notice they sound modern. But I get your point! So remember that we still get excited over old amplifiers and such [laugh].

I know that you make new music all the time, so any plans for a new album?

AT: Oh yeah, absolutely! It’s like our… resolution. Resolution to make a new record. Now we are considering various options, we think a lot about the direction we should head to. I am working on a melodic scenario. Yeah, yeah, yeah. We won’t disappear that easily.

#alex turner #miles kane #the last shadow puppets #milex #(due to how there's plenty of milex-esque content in this interview if i'm being honest)#eycte era #2016 #m: alex turner #m: miles kane #era: eycte #y: 2016 #in: aug/16 #t: interview #w: katarzyna gawęska #c: open'er festival #p: onet #s: internet archive #tlsp intlib project #this is an insane finding actually. thanks so much for the translation @ everybodytriesbeinghuman!

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royal-wren · 5 months ago

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hi!! would you be open to sharing some of your experiences with worshipping the kharites? how have they impacted your life? i'm interested but there's so little information surrounding them. thank you so much :D

Ah hell yeah! I'll jump on any chance to talk about them!

I love the elder Kharites so much, sure I honor ALL of them but the first three are the ones directly in my life, and the third to have a statue on my altar. My main go-to with them is every art that has to do with writing, those that really eat up poetry and storytelling in all forms. They're givers of joy, grace, beauty, and eloquence, and the ones I lean on most for my own writing more than anyone else in company with two that they're in the retinue (staunch companions) of Hermes and Aphrodite. I feel like I might be the odd one out on my tendency to lean on them with H and A over the Mousai and Apollon, but it's just what feels most right for me. I can't dream of it being the latter when in my mind the five in question embody what grips and makes writing special while also being patrons of the arts.

To put it into perspective and why I went from honoring, to actively worshipping and now being their devotee and crediting them with every piece I make:

Bacchylides, Fragment 10 (trans. Campbell, Vol. Greek Lyric IV) (C5th B.C.) : "Truly the skilled man [poet or artisan] prospers in golden hope, whether he has won honour from the Kharites (Charites, Graces)."

Pindar, Nemean Ode 4. 6 ff (trans. Conway) (Greek lyric C5th B.C.) : "If that man with the Kharites' (Charites', Graces') favour haply bring forth the heart's deep mood to live upon the tongue."

Pindar, Olympian Ode 14. 1 ff (trans. Conway) (Greek lyric C5th B.C.) : "Whose haunts are by Kephissos' (Cephisus') river, you queens beloved of poets' song, ruling Orkhomenos (Orchomenus), that sunlit city and land of lovely steeds, watch and ward of the ancient Minyan race, hear now my prayer, you Kharites (Charites, Graces) three. For in your gift are all our mortal joys, and every sweet thing, be it wisdom, beauty, or glory, that makes rich the soul of man. Nor even can the immortal gods order at their behest the dance and festals, lacking the Kharites' aid"

From their theoi page: "The character and nature of the Charites are sufficiently expressed by the names they bear: they were conceived as the goddesses who gave festive joy and enhanced the enjoyments of life by refinement and gentleness. Gracefulness and beauty in social intercourse are therefore attributed to them. (Horat. Carm. iii. 21, 22; Pind. Ol. xiv. 7, &c.) They are mostly described as being in the service or attendance of other divinities, as real joy exists only in circles where the individual gives up his own self and makes it his main object to afford pleasure to others. The less beauty is ambitious to rule, the greater is its victory; and the less homage it demands, the more freely is it paid. These seen to be the ideas embodied in the Charites. They lend their grace and beauty to everything that delights and elevates gods and men. This notion was probably the cause of Charis being called the wife of Hephaestus, the divine artist. The most perfect works of art are thus called the works of the Charites, and the greatest artists are their favourites. The gentleness and gracefulness which they impart to man's ordinary pleasures are expressed by their moderating the exciting influence of wine (Hor. Carm. iii. 19. 15; Pind. Ol. xiii. 18), and by their accompanying Aphrodite and Eros. (Hom. Od. viii. 364, xviii. 194; Paus. vi. 24. § 5.) They also assist Hermes and Peitho to give grace to eloquence and persuasion (Hesiod. Op. 63), and wisdom itself receives its charms from them. Poetry, however, is the art which is especially favoured by them, whence they are called erasimolpoi or philêsimolpoi. For the same reason they are the friends of the Muses, with whom they live together in Olympus. (Hes. Theog. 64; Eurip. Herc. fur. 673; Theocrit. xvi. in fin.) Poets are inspired by the Muses, but the application of their songs to the embellishment of life and the festivals of the gods are the work of the Charites."

It certainly doesn't help that so many of the gods I focus on and are most important to my personal worship directly have them in their retinue or are their companions in the sense like the Mousai and the Horai where it's more an equal footing kind of thing versus what it's like with Hermes, Aphrodite, Apollon, Athene, Artemis, Dionysos, Hera, Hekate, and while it isn't noted anywhere, I can't see it in any other way than Hestia's inclusion as one of the trio leaders of festivities with Hermes and Dionysos and the Kharites embodying mirth, cheer/excitement, and festivities.

The best way to devote yourself to them and my go-to when I'm down and don't have the energy or focus and willpower to do much more is to do something for myself that will bring joy, comfort, and elation in their name. Hedonism and doing your hobbies go a long way with them.

Further reading:

The Graces in Ancient Greek Mythology

The Graces by Louis de Jaucourt

The three Graces, or the allegory of the gift published by Denis Vidal (also here if the other link dies)

Pausanias tries to visualize the three ‘Graces’ of Orkhomenos in Boeotia by Gregory Nagy

The Three Graces: Cosmic Harmony in Scève's Délie by Joan A. Buhlmann

The Three Graces: Composition and Meaning in a Roman Context by Jane Francis

#asks #dorian's polytheism diary #hellenic polytheism #hellenic paganism #hellenic gods #hellenic deities #hellenic worship #the graces #kharites #the kharites #the charites #when I'm feeling it I plan on making an epithets list for them #love them #they are genuinely fantastic

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adagioapassionato · 2 years ago

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Thinking about…0.1 flaws and all by wave to earth

Having grown to love wave to earth in the last year, I was so, so excited for their first ever studio album! It did not disappoint at all and I have been playing it on repeat since it came out. If I were to sum up this album in a few words, they would be “love in a day.” The two sides of the album come together beautifully to represent the many ways of experiencing love and heartbreak, while associating them with the progression of a single day. wave to earth’s music is unique because it always evokes not just a specific feeling, but a specific picture or scene in my mind.

1. bad

The first track on A-side, ‘bad’, begins with an almost playful melody on the guitar, and is perfect for signaling the start of this day of love. The narrator sings of deciding to let themselves out of the house on this day, which seemingly turns into the best decision they could have made – they meet the person they love, and realize that their day could only go well if they spend it with them. The music used beautifully conveys this very message. The first verse, where they describe “Lately, life’s so boring/I’ve been watching Netflix all day alone…”, is accompanied by somewhat melancholy tones on the guitar, alongside a softer drum accompaniment and bass. However, the tone of the music brightens with “When I went to the park/I recognized you at a glance”, and as they end the pre-chorus with “We already know that we’ll be together”, the drums and bass play the same rhythm together, much louder, conveying the happiness of finally meeting someone you love. Similarly, the tone of the music is brighter through the second verse, which describes being with this person. wave to earth’s English lyrics rarely rhyme – but in the second pre-chorus, vocalist Daniel rhymes “I recognized you at a glance/Face to face, we smiled/And I finally held your hands” – as though his day and life fall into the right rhythm when he’s with this person. Also, while his voice is bare and unaccompanied through the first part of the chorus, he adds harmonies on the final line ‘And I finally held your hands,’ giving the impression that this same harmony enters his life as soon as he holds hands with the one he loves. The playful melody of the guitar, and the slow description of Daniel moving out of his house alongside the lyrics “coffee in the morning” create the perfect atmosphere of the beginning of a sunny morning of happiness, and starts off our journey with wave to earth through their day of love.

2. sunny days

The next two tracks, ‘sunny days’ and ‘peach eyes’, could signify the passing of a sunny morning and afternoon with someone you love. sunny days has a bright and refreshing sound. I particularly liked the lyric, “we melt this love and recreate it/as we imagine it/that’s how we make sunny days.” I always enjoy how Daniel writes lyrics that transcend the boundaries of different kinds of love. This one suggests that love can be whatever you want it to be, whatever you make it to be, and that’s how you create a lasting love with someone that adds sunlight and happiness to your life. Although the songs have romantic undertones, I found it just as easy to relate songs like ‘bad’ and ‘sunny days’ to spending a fun day with my friends. I think Daniel really does “melt love and recreate it” with such lyrics! The most evocative part of these songs, I think, is that the use of imagery in the lyrics brings to life the yellow glow of sunlight, “the beautiful scenery of the streets” and “the chirping of birds.”

3. peach eyes

‘peach eyes’ continues a similar theme, with a slightly lower sound that resembles admiring the one you love. This contrasts the higher and brighter tone of ‘sunny days’ that conveys the joy of being with your favourite person. The lyric “peach eyes” was a bit confusing to me at first, but bassist John Cha describes that the song was inspired by the band’s first international performance at a festival in Thailand, where the innocent happiness of the fans’ eyes evoked the phrase “peach eyes”. With this context, the song was even more heartwarming – ‘peach eyes’ suggests a softness, gentleness and calmness in the eyes of someone you love. The song suggests that this person grows ever more important to the narrator, with lyrics like “how many songs I write”, “how could I not rely/on you, peach eyes”, and finally “besides I won’t find nobody/to give my whole life, it’s you.” ‘peach eyes’ has a more late-afternoon vibe – the narrator describes “blue skies”, but then “you’ll be my sunlight” – although the sun is setting slowly, the brightness of their companion’s existence makes it feel as though the sun is still lighting up their day. This song comforts me and makes me smile and dance along a lot!

Together, I think these songs show the peaking and climax of a day, alongside the peak of love in a relationship – as the sun reaches its peak, so does the love the narrator has for the person they sing about.

4. evening glow

‘evening glow’ is an interestingly contrasting song that sounds like a transition between the former sunny glow of the album, towards a slowly setting sun and a slowly ending love. The melodies of the song are soothing and have a nostalgic, romantic feel, but the lyrics are laced with twinges of sadness. The bright electric piano at the beginning, along with the lyrics, “If I feel broken/you will find me” create the impression of a love song, but the following lyrics – “Those useless words were falling apart on me/I’m struggling in my world” immediately destroy those impressions and come as a shock. While the opening melodies are soothing to the ear, the line “I might be full of flaws” sounds dissonant, almost out of tune – it conveys a theme like ‘flaws and all’ perfectly, and the next line “but you will crave my heart” is sung in a soothing, gentle tone, seemingly a comforting acceptance of those very flaws.

This song sounds like a mix between sadness and denial over being hurt by someone you love. The first verses use lyrics with an imperative tone: “you will find me”, “I might be full of flaws/ but you will crave my heart” – as though trying to convince oneself that this person couldn’t truly hurt you, they’d continue loving you as you are and save you when you feel broken. But the chorus reflects on being hurt by the person in a painfully sad way – “I’m broken/So take me to the evening glow/And lay me down on the sun/The tender sun.” It makes the pain caused seem almost romantic, desirable and something that the narrator wants to hold close and accept. The narrator seems to hope that if they get close enough to the “sun” that brightened up their days earlier, laying down on it despite its heat, they may feel less broken. They hope that the hurt this person caused them may lessen as they try and hold on to the glow of the setting sun, to the beauty of their fading love.

5. pink horizon and

6. pink

Hearing the studio version of this years-old song was the most satisfying thing about this album, and ‘pink’ is definitely my favourite song! Combining ‘pink’ with its intro, ‘pink horizon,’ is perfect in creating a dream-like feel. The experience of listening to ‘pink’ was a hundred times more amazing with ‘pink horizon’ to go with it, and I rarely listen to the two songs separately now. ‘pink horizon’ creates a cinematic picture of a pink sunset in my mind, from the fading in of the scene to a full shot of a field bathed in pink light, an image created by the soft piano at the beginning. As other instruments join in, the image grows clearer and paints itself, transitioning into the beginnings of ‘pink’.

‘pink’ feels like a memory remembered while experiencing the sunset. The lyrics seem to construct a dream world – “Everything is free here/A heart that spreads and flies.” The narrator seems to run trying to hold on to this dream – “I ran through the grass until my shoes were worn out/While the sun sets” – they try to grasp the fading love as they run towards the setting sun, holding on to this last beautiful memory. “I drew you/Your beautiful appearance,” they say – they need to draw in the image of the person they love, create this last beautiful memory so they can find a reason to hold on to a love that is fading. The fleeting nature of the relationship and the day is seen as the narrator goes on to say “The day passes by so fast/Almost as if it will be forgotten.”

The romantic vibes created by the melodies on the chorus, and the gentle guitar and saxophone at the end of the song, add to its dreamy vibe and create an even deeper sense of nostalgia, but also one of yearning and grasping for something faraway. With this song, we see the end of the day – the sun sets and it begins to rain, as the narrator sings “Around the time the raindrops burst/Will I miss you?” This song is beautifully comforting and the melodies are truly so satisfying to listen to. It’s a song that I hold so close to my heart – I played it on repeat once I’d had a few listens out of the album!

7. calla

‘calla’ continues on from the previous track, beginning with “It’s raining hard today…” The song continues the theme of a fading love, this time with the narrator giving their all to saving this fading relationship. “It’s raining hard today/It’s a bit too much for me/I know it will make you smile/So let ourselves get wet inside the rain.” The narrator allows themselves to be wet in the rain although it isn’t what they enjoy, just to see a smile on the face of the one they love. As their world “fills with the scent” of the one they love – as they see them happy, they glimpse their past love in their lover’s smile, they hope this moment is forever, and not a “daydream.”

The narrator describes their relationship as a calla lily – after they grow, these flowers enter a period of dormancy after which they regrow and bloom again. Thus, they see their fading love as something temporary – they hope that just like a calla lily, this love can grow back after its temporary death. Maybe this moment of happiness means that their love can be saved, that it can grow back to be the beautiful calla lily it once was. The narrator wants to put in every effort to ensure their love grows back – “If you don’t have enough sunlight/I’ll blow the clouds away/Calla.” They try to bring back the sunny days and bright light that characterised the beginning of their relationship, as described in the first few tracks of the album. Although the narrator tries to ‘get wet inside the rain’ at the beginning of this song, catering to their companion’s feelings, they once again try to bring the sun, their conception of happiness, back into their love and relationship.

The tone of this song is decidedly sadder compared to the previous ones – while they contained a nostalgic yet dreamy and romantic feel, this song’s melodies speak purely of yearning, of pain that stems from love. The song ends with the plain sound of only the bass and the drums – these instruments, which usually create rhythm, play with no accompaniment. This could show that the relationship has truly ended – without the melody and music holding it together and drawing it forward, all that’s left is the rhythm, the structure: the memory of what once was.

8. love.

From the outset, I could tell this was a song that was filled with emotion and had been made with a lot of effort, heart, and, well, love. The melodies convey a love so overwhelming and powerful. I learned that the song is very special and describes the love Daniel has for his fellow band members and others he loves, and describes how they help him live with love. I read the lyrics in English and I almost felt that there was nothing more I can say that he hasn’t already said. There’s nothing more I can add that wouldn’t tamper with the deep feeling and pure heart Daniel put into this song. But I love this song so much I had to write something about it.

The song progresses in a crescendo that seems to match the growing love and gratefulness in Daniel’s heart towards the people he loves. The first verse starts with a soft tone and mellow music, while the pre-chorus picks up both in loudness and as the notes progress upwards in pitch. As it transitions into the chorus, with the lines “Finally, the world is mine,” we hear a clear declaration of this love. The second pre-chorus and chorus truly showcase the rising and peaking of the crescendo – “Finally, our world is perfect/With love/With love”. Once again, the notes progress upwards in pitch and sound harmonious, reflecting this world that feels perfect just by being filled with love.

The choruses, with the lyrics “After I grew and healed in my small heart/It breaks, hardens and melts/Only then can I see my eternity.” And then, “Like a small wave/My small heart/Is broken and pushed/And melts into you/Only then can I see my eternity.” These lyrics seem to describe the healing force of love – how it helps you grow and heal but also can truly shake your heart and alter the way you feel and see the world, causing a shift in your mind that really does last for eternity. He captures beautifully the sudden, lasting change, but also the comfort and healing that a long-lasting love can bring.

Especially during the second chorus, the main melody on the guitar sounds to me like an incoming and retreating wave, mirroring the lyrics and the nature of the love Daniel sings about here. Another thing I love about this song is how harmonious it sounds – the melodies are very pleasing to my ears and feel consonant enough to be from the same scale. But when I tried to sing this song, I realized how many notes are actually flat and require you to take on a pitch you would not normally expect. I think that conveys so much meaning. That when you love someone, you’re willing to subvert your own comforts and expectations if it means it’d make them happy. It also shows that though any love and person is flawed, it will always seem perfect to you because you value it so much. You accept it with all its quirks and imperfections.

I’m really moved by how genuinely and beautifully love is conveyed in this song, and yet it is left open to interpretation what kind of love one associates this with. I think that this is a beautiful conclusion to the A-side. Even through growing to love and value someone, being hurt by them and trying to save a relationship that fails, there are different kinds of love, and even through all the pain and flaws that come with it, it’s still truly what makes our world perfect and worth living in.

9. homesick

This track opens B-side, its melodies creating a forlorn feeling of a misty, freezing winter day. As A-side transitions from day to night, it can also transition from sunny, happy days of love to rainy, cold days of heartbreak and loneliness.

This song seems to convey remembering a lost love in a more painful manner, seeing the dreams of the relationship you hoped to have break in front of you – “all I wanted was to fly high/I can’t believe my wings are broken/and fell against the sky”. The chord progression on piano for this sounds dark and purposefully dissonant, as though signifying a deeply entrenched pain. Similarly, the rhythms are slow and seem almost to stick, as though they refuse to move forward, resembling the freezing, misty tones of this song. The tone with which Daniel sings this is also something I’d never heard him do before – it really amazed me! His voice sounds silvery and fairy-like, resembling ice crystallising on tree branches. In this way, he really conveys the feeling of being heartbroken on a cold winter day, wishing to return “home”, to the dreams he created, although his house is now “gone.”

The lyrics “I can’t believe my wings are broken/and fell against the sky”, when contrasted with the songs on the A-side of the album, really reminded me of the story of Icarus. It seems as though in chasing this love that resembled the sun and holding it close, even laying on it (evening glow), he flew too close to the sun, and the wings of love that helped him fly and dream melted, much like Icarus’. He now freezes in the cold, starkly contrasting the warmth of the sun that he had just been experiencing.

10. dried flower

This was a song I was already planning to write about! wave to earth released the songs ‘daisy.’, ‘calla’ and ‘dried flower’, which beautifully describe the flowering and withering of love. ‘dried flower’ seems to serve the same purpose here, following the song ‘calla’ with its story.

While the lyrics of ‘calla’ conveyed some hope of saving the relationship, this song seems to show the narrator finally accepting that what they so cherished has now withered away, beyond saving. ‘calla’ suggested, “the whole world/is getting filled with your scent”, but ‘dried flower’ contrasts this with “the scent of love has been dried out/the words you gave me have been already dried out.” A similar contrast is seen with “If you don’t have enough sunlight/I’ll blow the clouds away, calla”, and “There will be no blossoms for us/We don’t have any wetness, no sunlight.” While in ‘calla’, the narrator tried to enjoy the rain and bring the sun back to rejuvenate the dying flower of the relationship, they now accept that there’s nothing that could possibly allow their love to grow back like a calla lily – there isn’t even a semblance of a flower left to shower with sunshine or rain, there’s no love left to save.

Here too, the melodies are dark and dissonant, which emphasises the sadness of the song, but also the distance between the narrator and their companion. Particularly, the notes of the saxophone at the end add to this dark, painful aura. I wished ‘daisy.’ had been on the album somewhere too to complete this beautiful trio of songs – all the same, dried flower is painfully beautiful!

11. sunburn

‘sunburn’ seems to describe the delayed pain of being too close to someone who was like the sun – finally feeling the unbearable pain of aloneness, of loving someone too bright for you. The song puts a different spin on the ‘sunny days’ of A-side – instead of beautiful scenery, the surroundings, much like their feelings, are like a wasteland of “rubbish filth” where the sun has “gone black”, throwing “smoky haze” in their eyes. Although it’s dark, late at night, the narrator still feels the burning pain of the sunburn. They wait for the morning to cool down the unbearable heat – they hope tomorrow will be better, but the air still feels hot, they cannot escape the painful memories of a lost love.

Once again, Daniel’s tone of voice conveys these emotions perfectly. He uses a raspy tone when he sings, “smoky haze in my eyes”, as though it is in fact burning him as he tries to see. Additionally, his voice is subdued and seems to blend with the instruments – rather than the focus being on his singing, the production of the song creates a slight clash between the vocals and the instruments, as though he really is being suffocated in a wasteland of heat and burning sunlight.

The instrumental break before the final chorus and outro was also really interesting to listen to. The saxophone sound seems dissonant alongside the other instruments, and the use of pitch bends further add to the pain that the song conveys. It suggests confusion and hurt, a multitude of thoughts and memories that don’t seem to agree with each other. The fast beats on the drums also suggest spiraling through your mind as you sift through past memories and relive the hurt they put you through. I truly love the way this song is sung, written and arranged with its evocative sounds and imagery!

12. akira

‘akira’ is an interlude that presents a calmer mood compared to the highly emotional and painful tones of the previous tracks on B-side. It has a cleaner, brighter sound. It was interesting to hear a track by wave to earth arranged without a guitar, but the bright piano sound with the drums and bass adds to the calmer, lo-fi feel of this interlude. I enjoyed how I could identify the melodies and sounds that each instrument was playing on its own while also forming a whole. The bouncy rhythms come together with the brighter melodies, possibly to symbolise a sort of slow acceptance of the confusion and pain conveyed in the past few tracks.

13. nouvelle vague

Continuing on from ‘akira’s’ more hopeful tones, nouvelle vague (which means new wave, I just found out to write this!) seems to describe a change of heart, a sudden seed of hope that begins to grow. The narrator seems to realise that although they have been through such hardships before, it’s an opportunity for them to learn and grow again – “It seems like we’ve been on this sharp road before/If the soles of your feet are worn out/You’ll grow all over again.” They want to move ahead now with no expectations for the future, leaving behind a past of pain and simply taking life as it comes (“The place to go back to is fogged up now/If we go forward, will there be something to see?/I really have no expectations”). The narrator tries to hold on to this ‘new wave’ of hope, hoping it doesn’t fade away and they can truly ensure it grows and fills their heart up completely. The melodies seem to convey excitement, mystery and anticipation. The saxophone is used in a versatile way in this album – first conveying nostalgia, romance, confusion, and now, in this song, hope.

14. so real

‘so real’ is really a magnificent conclusion to this album. The sound was beyond anything I expected. The beginning starts out soft, resembling the melodies of wave to earth’s ‘ocean floor’. The verses have a reflective tone – the narrator has been changed by the pain they have been through, in a way that’s difficult for them to explain. However, it seems they wonder about what could’ve been had they done something different – “take me to the bridge/I just wanna see the river/Tell me what’s your wish/I can’t make it real/But I’m just curious.” While they can’t change how things are now, they can’t help but wonder what could’ve been if they’d been able to fulfill their wish. The river seems to represent something of a crystal ball to me here – they can gaze into its waters and visualise all the things that could have been.

In my mind, I saw the song progress such that the narrator peers into the river and sees all the possibilities of love, heartbreak, everything that could’ve happened if things had worked out differently for them, all at once. I see the silence in the middle of the song, followed by the fast-paced instrumental break, to convey just this. The fast, jerky drum beats and the smoother rhythm on the saxophone seem to show a speeding reel of possibilities and scenarios – just as one imagines all the things that could have, but did not happen, rushing through their mind, the music conveys this same experience. I think the title ‘so real’ thus encompasses this perfectly. It’s an experience that is ‘so real’ – it’s real, relatable to everyone who wonders how they got to the point they’re currently at. It’s an experience that feels ‘so real’ – imagining things that could have happened in such detail that they almost come to life before you, but they are still in your head. It is a track that truly brings together all facets of wave to earth’s expression, and is a perfect conclusion to this album.

This was a review that I was both scared to write, and that took me ages to write. Life meddles with things and I kept getting interrupted while writing this, although I love this album with my whole heart and wanted desperately to write a review since even before it came out. It was difficult to convey my thoughts when I wasn’t able to anchor myself purely on analyzing the meanings of lyrics. wave to earth use music and melodies as much as their lyrics to convey the emotions in their songs, and with my slightly limited knowledge of how to explain certain musical concepts and sounds, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to convey my impressions clearly. Overall, though, I think ‘flaws and all’ truly is filled with every single aspect and feeling of wave to earth. It’s an album made with a lot of love and care, and I feel that each musical choice was intentional and conveys something deeply meaningful. It’s an album that I hold very close to my heart – I hope I have been able to express my impressions of it clearly!

References:

pink - adapted from pink english lyric video

love. - adapted from love. english lyric video

nouvelle vague

#wave to earth #music #k-indie #band #writing #thinking about...music

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threepwoodmarley · 3 days ago

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All Hail To The Days That Merit More Praise

Merry Christmas @goldenwingediris! I'm your Secret Santa! I really hope you enjoy your fic. It was a lot of fun to write.

Summary: The Midwinter Festival is Belle's favourite time of year and she's determined to share the festive spirit with Rumplestiltskin, whether he likes it or not.

Title from the Loreena McKennitt song 'In Praise of Christmas', which I hope was the basis of your prompt because it's what I've been listening to on repeat while writing and which inspired a lot of this fic!

(Also, there is a line in here that I lifted from Xena: Warrior Princess because it fit so perfectly.)

Read on AO3

~*~

Belle put her hands on her hips as she looked around the great hall in satisfaction. A morning spent collecting holly from the castle grounds and decorating every available window and surface was a morning well spent. It wasn’t quite up to the standards of the grand displays back in Avonlea but she had to make do with what was available and even if it was basic, the green leaves and red berries made a lovely contrast, putting her in a festive mood.

The sound of the large doors opening heralded the arrival of her master and she turned to face them, excited to share her festive spirit with him.

“Good morning, Rumplestiltskin,” Belle called brightly, watching his face as he noticed the new additions to the great hall. She stifled a giggle as he turned in a circle, visibly confused.

“Belle. Why is there a forest in my hall?”

“It’s for the Midwinter Festival!” Belle felt her smile widening in excitement. “This is my favourite time of the year!”

“Really?” Rumplestiltskin looked at her sceptically as he moved towards the table. “Your favourite time of the year is when it’s dark, cold and miserable?”

“Oh, but you see that’s the whole point!” she cried emphatically. “It’s dark and cold outside so we bring light and cheer inside. It’s all about bringing back the light and driving out the darkness.”

“Well, as the embodiment of Darkness I have no desire to be driven out of my own castle, so I think we can dispense with all this.” Rumplestiltskin flicked his hand dismissively and Belle felt her heart sink as all her hard work disappeared. “That’s better.”

“Rumplestiltskin!” Belle cried, “bring those back!”

“Hmm, no. I don’t think I will.”

“You bring those back right now or I’ll..” Belle trailed off as she found herself engulfed in a whirlwind of smoke, only to reappear outside.

“Rumplestiltskin!” Belle practically shrieked, wrapping her arms around herself against the cold. “It’s freezing out here!”

Another cloud of smoke enveloped her and she felt warmth pressing down on her shoulders. When it cleared she looked down to see a heavy cloak fastened around herself.

“Fine,” she called to the empty courtyard. “If that’s how you want to play it!”

Receiving no response, Belle set off to forage for more supplies. She was determined not to allow his moodiness to defeat her festive spirit.

~*~

The next morning, as Belle stood surveying her handiwork, she felt a bit more trepidation at Rumplestiltskin’s potential arrival than she had the previous day. But she was still determined not to give in.

When he walked into the great hall she saw the moment he noticed the return of the decorations, turning to her with a scowl.

“I thought we had enough of this nonsense yesterday.”

“That was just the first day,” Belle explained patiently. “In Avonlea the Midwinter Festival is twelve full days of celebration.”

“Twelve days?” Rumplestiltskin seemed aghast. “What on earth do you do for twelve days? Other than bringing potential infestations inside, that is.”

Belle rolled her eyes as she watched him carefully pull back a holly leaf, inspecting the underside as though he expected to find something hideous there.

“They’re clean. Don’t worry, I checked. And as for what we do, we guide the sun home.”

“Excuse me?” He turned to face her completely, incredulity written across his face.

“Yes, when the days are at their darkest and it seems like the sun might never return, we sing songs and light candles to guide his way.”

“What?” Something strange flickered over Rumplestiltskin’s face but it was gone before Belle could identify the meaning.

“And we throw parties and have feasts to celebrate his return. It’s a time of community and joy.”

“Sounds like a nightmare. One that I believe I made my feelings on quite clear.” Rumplestiltskin raised his hand and Belle lunged forward, grabbing it in both of hers.

“Don’t you dare!”

Rumplestiltskin froze, his eyes widening in shock, just as Belle realised what she had done.

“Sorry!” She pulled her hands back. “It’s just… this means a lot to me. Please.”

A beat passed between them as she held her breath, waiting for his response. For his part, he still seemed stunned by her previous impulsive action.

“Fine,” Rumplestiltskin relented, slowly lowering his hand which was still twitching slightly. ��But you know that’s all superstitious nonsense, right? The cycle of the seasons has nothing to do with you singing some silly little songs.”

“I know, but that’s not the point.” Belle wasn’t quite sure why it was so important to her that he understand, but it was.. “It’s about hope. How even when things are at their very darkest, there’s always light on the horizon. Don’t you have any celebrations like that at this time of year?”

“Of course not,” Rumplestiltskin snorted derisively. “Not all of us come from backwater swamps.”

“Well, maybe you could join mine. Festivities are meant to be shared, after all.” Belle deliberately ignored the slight. She knew that he was fully aware of the status of her town. He was just trying to antagonise her.

“I’m not singing.” Rumplestiltskin pointed his finger at her.

“That’s all right.” Belle leaned closer to him and lowered her voice. “To be honest with you, I’m not a very good singer either.”

“Uh, no.” Rumplestiltskin stepped back, raising his hands with his fingers pointed upwards, “I didn’t say that I wasn’t good at it, I said I’m not doing it.”

“So, you can sing?” Now that was intriguing. As was his apparent offence at her assumption.

“Perhaps. Fortunately for me, that’s something you’ll never find out. The Dark One doesn’t sing, dearie.”

Well, that was a small price to pay and Belle fought to hide her grin at her victory.

“Fine,” she acquiesced. “I promise not to ask you to sing if you let me celebrate the Midwinter Festival.”

“Fine.” Rumplestiltskin waved his fingers dismissively. “Keep your silly little greenery. Just don’t let it interfere with your duties.”

He turned and started towards the corner of the hall, suddenly stopping in his tracks.

“What on earth…?”

Ah, he’d noticed the ivy she’d woven through his spinning wheel. Belle bit her lip, hoping she hadn’t gone too far, as she stepped up to his side to explain.

“All work not directly related to the festivities is banned throughout the Midwinter Festival, so traditionally women in Avonlea would weave flowers through their spinning wheels so they couldn’t be used.”

“But it’s not your spinning wheel, is it dearie?”

“No, but it’s tradition.”

“Is it?” He turned to face her, raising his eyebrow. “Or is this whole thing just an elaborate excuse for you to get out of working for two weeks?”

“Well looking after your own house is permitted, so don’t worry. You won’t starve.”

Rumplestiltskin’s mouth dropped open slightly but he didn’t reply, simply turning and walking out of the hall. Belle smiled to herself at the fact that he left the ivy-clad spinning wheel untouched.

~*~

The next day Belle squealed with delight as she opened a drawer in the kitchen to find a set of beautiful red and white candles next to intricately woven metal holders. Gathering them up quickly she hurried to the great hall and set about carefully placing them within the garlands of greenery she’d set up before.

The Dark Castle certainly lived up to its name at the best of times, but it was especially true at this time of year when the sun rose late and set early and was hidden by clouds for much of the rest of the day. The thought of bringing some light into the place with the beautiful candles was a very welcome one.

She’d just finished lighting the last candle when Rumplestiltskin appeared in the doorway.

“I see we’re adding fire hazards now,” he said sardonically. “Wonderful.”

Belle just smiled at him fondly.

“What?” He seemed unnerved by her lack of a response.

“Thank you for the candles.”

Rumplestiltskin frowned. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Belle decided to humour him. “Maybe it was the castle that gave them to me.”

She winked as she sauntered past him, already thinking about the next festive aspect of Midwinter that she wanted to share with her master.

~*~

That evening Belle rummaged around the kitchen for the supplies she was looking for, and once again the castle provided. Unearthing a nice looking bottle of wine and various spices, Belle cast her mind back to winter evenings in Avonlea, glad that she had often snuck down to watch the mulled wine being made.

First was the matter of serving Rumplestiltskin his dinner, but once that had been taken care of she began the process of mulling the wine, hoping to time it just right that she could bring it up soon after he finished eating.

Soon the kitchen was filled with the delicious spicy sweet scent of mulled wine and Belle inhaled deeply, pleased with the results. Now she just had to find a way to serve it. Back at her father’s castle the mulled wine was the centerpiece of the table, kept warm in a beautiful ceramic pot. So far she hadn’t found anything like that in her kitchen in this castle and was resigning herself to putting it in a plain dish when she opened the last cupboard and gasped in delight at the bowl sitting on the shelf directly at her eye level.

Reaching in carefully, she gently pulled the container out, not fully understanding why but somehow knowing that this was a special piece. The dark wood shone and caught the light as she slowly turned it in her hands, admiring the intricate holly and ivy carvings looping around the sides.

It wasn’t as big as the one from the castle and she couldn’t put it over a heat source, but that didn’t matter. This wine was just for her and Rumpelstiltskin, a far more intimate set up than any she’d experienced back in Avonlea.

Decanting the wine from the pot she’d mulled it in into the bowl was a careful process as she had no desire to spill any on herself. Once that had been accomplished she gathered up the bowl and returned to the great hall where Rumplestiltskin had just finished his dinner.

“Good health, Rumplestiltskin!” Belle called as she set down the bowl. “I have another tradition I’d like to share with you.”

“What…” Rumpelstiltskin looked up, his words trailing off and his mouth dropping open as he caught sight of what she had placed on the table.

“It’s mulled wine!” Belle explained, “one of my favourite drinks at this time of year.”

“Where did you get that?” Rumplestiltskin was still staring at the centre of the table.

“I made it. You had all the spices I needed in your kitchen and plenty of bottles of wine. I didn’t think you’d mind me using one of them for this.”

“No, the bowl.” He stood from his seat and leaned forward to get a better look at it. “Where did you find that?”

“Oh, it was in one of the cupboards. I’m not sure why I’ve never seen it before, it wasn’t exactly hidden.” Belle shrugged, then frowned as she realised what she was missing. “Drat, I forgot the glasses. I’ll be right back.”

“No need.” Rumplestiltskin returned his attention to her and waved his hand. Belle blinked as two wooden cups and a ladle appeared beside the bowl.

“Thank you.” She picked up the first cup and filled it, handing it to him before filling her own.

Taking her first sip she smiled as the warmth of the wine and spices hit her but resisted the temptation to close her eyes, wanting to see Rumplestiltskin’s reaction when he tried it himself.

He sniffed the contents of the cup almost suspiciously before cautiously raising it to his lips. A small sip was immediately followed by a larger one and Belle felt a tension in her heart release. She hadn’t truly realised until that moment just how important his opinion was to her.

When he didn’t offer any response after a few seconds, she couldn’t hold the question in any longer.

“Do you like it?” she asked hopefully.

He tilted his head as though considering his reply.

“It’s not terrible.” His words might have had more bite had they not been immediately followed by another sip.

He was still standing slightly awkwardly and Belle looked around, noticing the sofa set up by the fireplace.

“Shall we sit by the fire?”

“Why?”

“Because it’ll be cosy over there. We can bring the wine with us.”

Still appearing slightly suspicious of her suggestion, Rumplestiltskin nevertheless moved with her to the fireplace, taking a seat on the far end of the sofa. Belle followed, bringing the bowl of wine and placing it on a low table nearby.

Debating with herself for only a second she sat down in the centre of the sofa, causing Rumplestiltskin to look at her oddly before facing away again..

She could feel him sitting rigidly beside her and searched for something to break the silence. A memory from childhood came to her.

“You know some people say you can see your future if you stare into the flames long enough.”

“Hmm, pyromancy,” Rumplestiltskin replied, not looking away from the fire.

Belle huffed a small laugh. “Of course you already know that. Is it a real thing? Can you do it?”

“No.”

“To which?”

“Both.”

“Well that’s a relief. When I was a little girl my friends and I were looking into the flames because we’d heard that if we tried hard enough we’d see the faces of our future husbands.”

“And what did you see?”

“Flames.” Belle laughed and took another sip of her wine. “But all my friends were gushing about the handsome faces they’d seen so I pretended I had too. I think the face I made up sounded very much like Gaston.”

“Ah, so even as a child you wanted to marry him.”

“No,” Belle corrected. “Even as a child I knew I was supposed to marry him. I had very little say in the matter. Fortunately you came along.”

Rumplestiltskin’s head swiveled around to face her so quickly she nearly dropped her cup. “You consider that fortunate?”

“Wasn’t it?” Belle looked him in the eye. “I mean, obviously the circumstances leading up to it weren’t fortunate, but you arriving was. You saved us all. And I’d much rather be here than married to Gaston.”

Rumplestiltskin narrowed his eyes. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I am. If he’d had his way I’m pretty sure I’d be trapped inside a castle with nothing to do but have his babies and listen to tales of his hunting exploits.”

“Instead you’re trapped inside a castle cooking and cleaning for a monster,” Rumplestiltskin scoffed. “I’m not sure you’ve thought this through, dearie.”

“Mm, you’re not a monster.” Belle swayed slightly. The wine was going to her head and combined with the warmth of the fire in front of her and the warmth of his body next to her she was feeling pleasantly tipsy. His shoulder was right there, so inviting, and she gave into the temptation to lean her head against it. “And you’re far better company than he ever was.”

She could feel him tense up as soon as she made contact but he didn’t move away and she took that as implicit permission, shifting her body slightly so she could lean against him more comfortably, the leather of his waistcoat cool under her cheek.

He didn’t reply to her words, but that was all right. She felt content and comfortable just sitting there with him.

Eventually her eyes started closing and when she opened them again she was surprised to see the fire much lower than it had been. Blinking sleepily she raised her head, taking note of the blanket falling from her shoulders as she did so, and her wine cup now sat with his on the small table with the bowl.

“You fell asleep.” Rumplestiltskin’s voice was low, as though he was afraid to break some sort of spell that had fallen on them. She didn’t think he had moved at all, except to presumably use his magic to conjure the blanket and move the cups.

“Oh, sorry.” Belle blushed.

“It’s no matter.” Rumplestiltskin waved his hand but didn’t meet her eyes.

“I suppose I should be going to bed then.” Belle stood, looking down at his face, watching the flickering light of the fire dancing on his golden skin. “Goodnight, Rumplestiltskin.”

Belle leaned down slowly to kiss his cheek. She hadn’t thought it possible for him to tense up even more than he already had been, but somehow he managed it. Pulling back from him, she turned and left the great hall.

Once she had returned to her room, Belle readied for bed in a daze. It had only been a friendly peck on the cheek, yet she couldn’t get the feel of his skin under her lips out of her mind. His scales had been so much warmer and softer than she had expected.

Lying in bed, she slowly lifted her fingers to stroke across her lips. Her mind was racing and all she could think about was how much she wanted to kiss him again.

~*~

The next morning Belle came downstairs and was shocked to find Rumplestiltskin still in the great hall. He was sitting in the same spot by the fire, turning the now empty wooden bowl around in his hands.

“Rumplestiltskin?” Belle called softly, not wanting to startle him. “Have you been here all night?”

“Hmm.” Rumplestiltskin nodded absentmindedly, still seeming distracted by the bowl.

“I… I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have used that.” Belle was now starting to worry that she’d committed some terrible faux pas. “It just seemed so perfect.”

“It’s no matter, I just forgot I had it.” He seemed like he was going to say more, but before he did so his face abruptly changed expression, a mask dropping in front of his eyes, before he stood to face her, vanishing the bowl as he did so. “But never mind that. Now, tell me little maid, what else are you planning to do to my castle? Hmm? I can’t imagine a little slip of a thing like you hauling in a tree by yourself but that would be entertaining to see.” He pointed at her, turning his back as he spoke.

“What?” Belle wrinkled her nose in confusion. “A whole tree? Why would I do that?”

“You…?” Rumplestiltskin turned to face her, surprise evident on his face before the mask fell into place again and he gestured around the hall with his hands. “Well, it’s just that you’ve brought the rest of the forest inside I assumed a tree would be next. Followed by a pond or a mountain perhaps.”

“Now you’re just being silly.” Belle shook her head.

“You’re one to talk. How is that head of yours after last night, anyway? You seemed rather drunk by the end there.”

“I had one glass of wine, I’d hardly call that drunk.”

“But you… “ He looked confused again before shaking it off. “Never mind. Anyway, you didn’t answer me. What other traditions can I expect?”

“Well, the Solstice always falls around the middle of the Midwinter Festival.” Belle cast her mind back to years past. “The Royal Astronomers would calculate the exact date and an announcement would be made that the sun was returning. We would celebrate with a great feast of food and drink. My father would open the castle and invite all the townsfolk to join us.”

Rumplestiltskin snorted. “That is most certainly not going to happen here.”

“That’s all right, it was never my favourite part anyway,” Belle confided. “It was usually fun for an hour or so, but being around so many people was exhausting.”

He looked genuinely relieved, as though he feared Belle might have invited up the whole population of the town behind his back, and Belle had to hide a stifle a laugh at the image it brought to mind. Somehow she couldn’t imagine her antisocial master taking on the jovial host role her father had embodied for years.

Thinking about those grand feasts brought another tradition to the forefront of Belle’s mind. One she hadn’t thought about when setting up her initial decorations but which now jumped out to her as something extremely important. It played on her mind as she headed down to the kitchen to start Rumplestitlskin’s breakfast.

Once she found herself with a free moment she ventured out into the garden on her quest. Just as she’d hoped, she found the object of her search relatively quickly and cut a few pieces.

Returning to the great hall she scoured the place for the perfect location, settling on just above the doors which she knew Rumplestiltskin often walked through. Then it was just a matter of time. Belle picked up a book and sat down to wait.

Her patience was rewarded about an hour later when she heard footsteps approaching. Quickly putting down her book she moved closer to the doorway, pretending to clean something on the pedestal nearby.

The footsteps stopped and Belle risked a glance up, seeing Rumplestiltskin still a few paces away from the door, his eyes narrowing as he looked up.

“What the hell is that?” He pointed a long finger at the sprig she had affixed above the entryway.

“Hmm?” Belle aimed for nonchalance. “It’s mistletoe.”

“I can see that, but why is it in my doorway? I thought I made it clear that we were not having any guests in the castle.”

“We’re not. What does that have to do… wait…” Belle narrowed her own eyes at him as the meaning of his words sunk in. “You know.”

“I know a lot of things. What in particular are you wittering on about now?”

“You know what mistletoe is for.”

“Poisoning your guests with the berries?” Rumplestiltskin shrugged with clearly false casualness. “Not very festive but who knows what passes for tradition in your backwards little town. Perhaps ritual sacrifice is the climax of your Winter Festival.”

“And that’s why you’re avoiding it, is it?” Belle had noticed how he hadn’t moved a step. “You think I’m trying to poison you?”

“Don’t be absurd. I’m not avoiding anything. This is my castle and I go where I want. I certainly don’t have my comings and goings dictated by a plant.”

“Then why don’t you come through the doorway?”

“Why do you want me to?”

“You know you’re being very childish.”

“Fine.” Rumplestiltskin took a few large steps, stopping directly under the mistletoe and staring directly at her like he was calling her bluff. “Now what?”

“Now it’s tradition that when two people meet under the mistletoe they’re supposed to kiss,” Belle explained. She was unsurprised to see no hint of surprise on Rumplestiltskin’s face.

He kept himself still and Belle realised that he was waiting for her to make the first move. He seemed nervous but not reluctant, which gave her confidence that her actions weren’t unwelcome.

Belle met Rumplestitlskin’s eyes as she leaned up. Her first thought was to kiss him on the cheek, the same as before, but she knew that she wanted more than that. Gathering up her courage she turned her head at the last second, catching his lips with hers.

She felt him pause for a second and wondered how her heart would take it if he rejected her. But then his lips moved and he was kissing her back. The feeling of his lips under hers was heavenly and she closed her eyes as a wild thought ran through her head that she never wanted to do anything but this ever again.

But then a strange sensation started tickling her lips and she pulled back in confusion. Opening her eyes she gasped in shock at the sight of Rumplestiltskin’s face rippling oddly.

“What’s happening to you?” Belle cried in alarm.

“What…?” Rumplestiltskin looked down at his hands, which Belle noticed were also shifting and changing, his usual golden scaled skin turning pink before returning to normal.

“Are you all right?” She reached out for him but he pulled back abruptly, his head shooting up as his gaze fixed firmly on her face.

“You!” Rumplestiltskin pointed at her aggressively. “What did you do?”

“I…I don’t know,” Belle stammered, completely confused by everything that had just happened, “I mean… nothing. I just kissed you. I didn’t mean to…”

“‘Oh, I should have known!” He took another step back, shaking his head. “You told me this was your plan from the beginning but I didn’t listen.”

“Plan? What plan?”

“To drive out the Darkness. Well, it won’t work.” He was pacing now, seeming more and more agitated by the second and Belle despaired, wondering how everything had gone so wrong so quickly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“You kissed me!” He turned to face her, practically roaring the words as though they were an accusation.

“Yes!” That was true, but she didn’t understand why he was so upset by it.

“And why would you want to kiss the beast? Hmm! Hmm!” He brought his face close to hers, his eyes boring into her own, while his finger pointed at her chest. “Trying to be the hero and defeat the monster?”

“Rumplestiltskin, please! You’re not making any sense.” Belle reached out for his hand but he darted from her reach, skipping a few steps back. “All I did was kiss you!”

“Right,” Rumplestiltskin scoffed. “And you expect me to believe that you didn’t know what would happen. That with all those little books you like to read you don’t know about True Love’s Kiss.”

“I don’t… wait.” Belle stared at him in wonder. “True Love? We’re True Love?”

“No.” Rumplestiltskin looked away.

“But you just said…”

“It’s impossible,” he spat. “No one could ever love me.”

“But I do!” Belle wasn’t sure she’d fully realised it herself before that moment right then, but suddenly she was more certain of the truth of it than of anything she’d ever known before.

“No, you don’t!”

Something in Belle snapped at his words and she stalked forwards, pointing her own finger at this chest. “No! You don’t get to do that! I know you’re upset about… something, but you don’t get to tell me how I feel or call me a liar.”

Her voice broke and frustrated tears sprang to her eyes as all the heightened emotions of the last few minutes hit her. She turned her head away, not wanting him to see.

She braced herself for another argument but there was only silence. A few seconds later she heard soft footsteps behind her and his voice, much lower and softer than it had been when he was accusing her of terrible things before.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” Belle sniffled.

“Well, now you’re definitely lying.”

Huffing a small laugh, she turned to face him. He seemed to have calmed down and she was glad for it. But she was still confused.

“What just happened?”

Rumplestiltskin sighed. “True Love’s Kiss is very powerful magic. It can break any curse. And being the Dark One is a curse.”

“So why don’t you want it broken?” Belle felt more confused than ever. Being the Dark One seemed like a terrible burden to her, why wouldn’t he want to be free of it?

“I… need it. It’s the source of my power.”

“Right,” Belle nodded sadly. “And power is more important to you than love.”

Rumplestiltskin looked conflicted, like he didn’t have an answer for that question. He opened and closed his mouth a few times but made no reply.

Belle gave him a small sad smile and turned, leaving him alone in the doorway. Walking without conscious thought she found herself in her library, her place of solace that Rumplestiltskin had given her.

Books had been a source of comfort to her her entire life. They also held a wealth of knowledge in their pages. Surely somewhere in this room was information about True Love’s Kiss.

~*~

Belle stayed in the library for the rest of the day and most of the night, only returning to her room very late. She hoped that Rumplestiltskin wouldn’t be upset about her not serving his dinner, but had the feeling that he was possibly avoiding her as well.

The next morning when she came down to the great hall she found Rumpelstiltskin already there. He was sitting in his chair, dressed in one of his spikier ensembles. Their eyes met briefly before he looked away and Belle took a deep breath before approaching the table, a book held tightly to her chest.

“Rumplestiltskin… I…” Belle paused, wanting to make sure her words were right.

“It’s fine, dearie. You can go.” He waved his hand dismissively, barely looking at her, and Belle was thrown off her carefully thought out script.

“What?” She frowned, trying to understand his meaning.

“I release you from our deal. You don’t have to stay here any more.” He turned to face her fully and if she hadn’t known him as well as she did she would have missed the sadness behind the sneer on his face. “That is what you came in here to ask, isn’t it?”

“Of course not!” Belle was shocked.

“Well maybe it should have been.” Rumplestiltskin turned away from her again. “Maybe I don’t want you here any more.”

Belle decided to ignore that, not believing it for a second.

“Listen, I was doing some research in the library.” She placed the book she had been carrying down on the table and tapped it with the finger of one hand before continuing. “And I found a tale of a farmer who angered a witch. She cursed him with a poisoned apple. His wife revived him with True Love’s Kiss but then he ate more of the apple and when she tried to bring him back again it didn’t work.”

Rumplestiltskin snorted. “Maybe she stopped loving him when she realised he was an imbecile.”

“Maybe,” Belle laughed, glad for the moment of levity. “But magical scholars theorise that this is proof that True Love’s Kiss only works once on the same curse. If he’d eaten a different apple then she would have been able to bring him back, but she couldn’t because it was the same one.”

Rumplestiltskin eyed her strangely. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because if this is true, then we can kiss,” she pointed out eagerly. “True Love’s Kiss already worked once, it has no power any more.”

She had hoped he would be excited by this news, but instead he just looked pained.

“I can’t.” He looked down at the table. “You don’t understand. I can’t risk everything I’ve worked for on the strength of a theory from an old book based on a story that may or may not be completely made up. This is too important to me.”

“And I’m not,” Belle surmised sadly, taking a step back.

“Belle.” His arm reached out to grab her hand before she could go too far. “Please believe me when I say you are the best thing to come into my life in a long time.”

“But there’s something else.”

“Yes.”

Belle sighed and moved back towards him, her arm falling from his grip as she leveraged herself up to sit next on the table next to his chair.

“Rumpelstiltskin, I love you. And I want to be with you. I’d like to kiss you if we can, but if we can’t then that’s all right. Just, please, please be honest with me.”

When he didn’t reply, Belle sighed and stood from the table. This time he didn’t stop her from leaving.

~*~

That evening, as she descended the staircase, she wondered what would await her when she entered the great hall. Would Rumplestiltskin still be there? Would he try to make her leave again? Or would he be avoiding her, holed up somewhere in this vast castle where she couldn’t find him? She wasn’t sure which was preferable.

As she reached the doorway she took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever she found on the other side.

Pushing open the doors, she stopped in her tracks at the sight that greeted her. At the far end of the great hall, stretching all the way up to the ceiling, was an enormous fir tree, draped with red ribbons and gold tinsel. Candles were carefully nestled in the branches and a cascade of light projected around the room from their flickering flames reflecting off the gold.

She didn’t blink as she slowly crossed the hall to stand next to the tree, afraid that it was a mirage that would vanish if she took her eyes off it for a second. Once she was beside it she carefully reached out a hand, touching the delicate threads that made up the gold tinsel. Looking over at the spinning wheel in the corner, she was unsurprised to see the ivy had been unwound from the spokes and placed on a shelf nearby.

“You said work not related to the festivities was banned, so I thought this would be all right.” Rumplestilskin’s voice came from behind her, deeper and softer than she had ever heard it before.

Belle opened her mouth, feeling almost speechless. “This… this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Turning to face Rumplestiltskin, she immediately reconsidered that statement. The twinkling light made his skin sparkle in a way that took her breath away. She also noticed that he had changed into a wine red shirt with matching brocade waistcoat that became him very well.

“Happy Solstice, Belle.” He stepped forward to stand by her side. “I may not be a Royal Astronomer, but I can tell you it’s today. Tonight, if you want to be really accurate.”

“Thank you.” She took his arm gratefully and turned so they were both facing the tree. “This is… wonderful. Whatever made you think of decorating a tree like this?”

He swallowed visibly and stared straight ahead, not looking at her as he spoke.

“I lied before. When I said I had no traditions. The Solstice celebrations were the highlight of our year too. We would go out into the woods and chop down a tree, bring it inside and decorate it. Much smaller than this one, of course. Children would make decorations to hang from the branches of their family’s tree. We didn’t have much so they would use whatever they could find in the woods and any scraps they could get their hands on. Every year I would pretend to mess up a bit of my spinning so Bae could use the yarn…”

He trailed off and Belle held her breath, not wanting to break the spell that had fallen over them. She wondered if Rumplestiltskin was even aware of how much he was sharing with her. When he showed no signs of continuing she plucked up the courage to voice her next question.

“Bae? Is that your son?”

“What?” His head turned to face her, his eyes full of a suspicion that Belle was desperate to banish. “How do you know that?”

“I found the clothes upstairs,” she explained, holding tightly to his arm so he couldn’t retreat from her. “What happened to him?”

“I lost him.” The sad resignation in his voice made Belle’s heart break, but then he continued in a much more determined tone. “But not for good. I will find him again. It’s why…”

The pieces started to fall in place for Belle. “That’s why you need your power? To find your son?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s understandable.” Belle stared straight into his eyes, wanting to make sure he understood her words. “And we will. We’ll find him.”

“We?” Rumplestiltskin looked surprised.

“Yes, ‘we’.” Belle emphasised. “I promised you forever didn’t I?”

“You did. But I believe I released you from that deal.”

“Well you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Belle squeezed his arm gently as a thought came to her. “Do you still have them? Bae’s decorations I mean.”

“Every one.” His voice was quiet.

“Maybe we should put them on the tree?” She hoped he wouldn’t be upset by her suggestion. Or take it as a criticism of his own decorations.

Instead he waved his hand and a box appeared on the table next to him. Belle let his arm slip from her hands as he turned towards it. Opening the lid with a reverence Belle couldn’t ever remember seeing from him, Rumpestiltskin reached in and brought out a wonky star made of sticks held together with rough yarn. Stroking a finger over it lovingly, he reached out and carefully placed it on the tree before reaching back into the box and doing the same with a crudely carved piece of bark that Belle was almost certain was supposed to represent a snowflake.

All in all, around two dozen small ornaments of varying degrees of skill emerged from the box and were placed on the tree. When Rumplestitlskin had finished hanging the last one he stepped back to Belle’s side and they admired his handiwork together.

“Beautiful.” Belle said sincerely, wrapping her arm around his back and leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Bae loved the Solstice.” Rumplestiltskin’s quiet voice broke the contented silence that had fallen over them both. “I haven’t… I haven’t celebrated it since he left.”

Belle winced. “I’m sorry if I brought back bad memories.”

“No, no the memories are good. Thank you for reminding me of them.”

“I’m glad.” Belle lifted her head to look at him, then noticed something else sitting on the table behind his shoulder. “You made mulled wine?”

“Ah.” Rumplestiltskin turned and stepped closer to the carved bowl that she had used previously, filling two cups and handing one to her. “It’s Wassail.”

“Wassail?” Belle sniffed the cup in her hand. It smelled similar to mulled wine in some ways, but the underlying scent was different.

“It’s a spiced ale.”

Belle took a sip. It was earthier than she expected, but pleasantly spiced. She wasn’t sure if it would be something she would choose to drink much of though.

“It’s all right if you don’t like it.” Rumpelstiltskin sounded amused. “It can be an acquired taste.”

“It’s nice,” Belle protested. “And the bowl is beautiful. Did you make it?”

“No, it’s… Well, I suppose you could say it’s a family heirloom.”

“Really?”

“I lived with my aunts as a child and at this time of year we would go Wassailing. We would go from door to door, visiting our neighbours, singing songs and sharing spiced ale from our Wassail bowl. This was theirs, passed down to them through the generations.”

“And then it went to you.” Belle smiled. “Did you take Bae Wassailing with it?”

“No.” Rumplestiltskin seemed to deflate a little and Belle instantly regretted the question. “When Bae was old enough to go he went with some neighbours and their children. I… wasn’t welcome.”

“Because you were the Dark One?” Belle surmised.

“No, I was something much worse.” He blinked then shook his head as if to clear the memories. “But I still filled the bowl and when Bae returned he would sing to me and I would drink from it. And then I would give him a small gift to thank him for his song and the ale. And speaking of gifts…!”

Belle laughed as he took her cup, placing it with his on the table before grabbing her hand, pulling her back towards the tree excitedly.

“Here,” Rumplestiltskin reached out for a small parcel she hadn’t seen before and handed it to her. “Happy Solstice, Belle.”

“Oh!” She looked at the box in wonder and despair. “But I don’t have a gift for you.”

“Belle, you are a gift to me,” Rumpelstiltskin said with such sincerity it took her breath away. “You are the Solstice incarnate, my light in the darkness. Now, please, open it.”

Following his instructions Belle untied the ribbon and lifted the lid on the box to reveal a stunningly delicate gold bracelet.

“Oh, Rumple…” she trailed off, swallowing heavily. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s infused with my magic.” Rumplestiltskin reached into the box, pulling the bracelet out to clasp around her wrist. “I was doing some research of my own and I found a spell that has the power to block True Love’s Kiss. As long as you’re wearing this…”

“Really?” Belle felt the hope swell inside her. “Are you sure you’re willing to risk it?”

“Yes. Just… promise me you’ll stop if I start to change.”

Belle nodded as Rumplestiltskin leaned down and captured her lips with his. This time there was no tickling sensation, just the glorious feeling of his lips against hers. After a few seconds Belle pulled back just enough to scan his face.

“Well?” Rumplestiltskin asked breathlessly.

Belle stared into his wonderfully familiar amber eyes and smiled. “It’s working. Kiss me again.”

Rumplestiltskin returned her smile and leaned down. This time Belle reached up, wrapping her arms around him as she eagerly returned his kiss while the tree twinkled brightly beside them and, somewhere in the distance, the sun began its journey home.

#rumbelle secret santa #goldenwingediris #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #ouat #my fic

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