#as promised: i have not forgotten these two and am still Very Excited.
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pre-plotted starter for @senseofjustice
It was almost difficult to imagine a time when the land of the golden goddesses sang with life abundant: when cuckoos ran through the great green fields and children played at the edge of the forest; when couriers carried letters from village-to-village, and Zora peeked up from the river as it ran to lake Hylia, watching passers-by and keeping peace in their way. Her mother had sung stories of that bright, blessed time— of a world they three might have enjoyed, together.
Honey hadn't been lucky enough to know that world, or to remember it like some others did; what she knew was the decline. Fields overrun with beasts, monsters hewn from the dark; followers of a man, a being determined to claim the goddess' bounty for his own, using power pilfered from the heavens, themselves.
The lucky and the wise fled, though many wouldn't escape the borders; the rest went into hiding, taking shelter in caverns, ruins, and whatever other hovel they could try to defend in a dying land. And still, amidst the chaos, the fairies remained. Some went into slumbers of their own, others' fountains were buried in the changing landscape, shrines lost in ruin, but nevertheless, they could not abandon Hyrule— they were as much a part of the land as the waters which ran through it, and the roots which wove through the earth.
...a nature one little fairy was none-too-happy to bear.
Honey thought over and over again that she should have left, by now. That, surely, her mother wouldn't have wished this on her, and would have wanted her daughter to find some land to thrive in, to live... but she couldn't bring herself to go. Not just because of that nagging sense of devotion which niggled at her heart, deep down; but far moreso because she was just as afraid as anyone else who still dwelt in the downtrodden kingdom. A great fairy she might be (in time), but never a fighter, never a warrior; and it would take no less than that to make it through the realm of Hyrule, today.
All she could do was find a quiet cavern with a little pore of its own; to shelter in its depths, in whatever small facsimile of her own fountain she could build.
A silly endeavor, perhaps. Not that she'd had anything better to do with her time, but, come now— fountains were meant to be respites for travelers, for adventurers; but who would be so foolish as to be traveling this place?
...well, for every question: an answer.
All she could do was stare at him, to start. a moment's fear, longer shock, finding the solitude of the magic-lit cavern disturbed for the first time in who knows how long— by a boyish brunette in green clothing, clutching a sword in one hand and shield in the other. Fresh from the fight, with dirt on his edges and a weight in his carriage which told the story of a long day before now.
❝ I— ❞ had no idea what to say, as it turns out; too overwhelmed just to see someone else, ❝ good goddesses, I can't believe it. You're, like... real? really?— what in the world are you doing here? ❞
Not exactly the welcome which her 'duty' demanded, but, have some sympathy; it was difficult to remember a script in a time like this.
#loz.#senseofjustice.#♥ 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 (ic).#starter.#|| excuse the length but i had to IMMERSE.#as promised: i have not forgotten these two and am still Very Excited.#almost as excited as she is gobsmacked.
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Chalkboard Hearts Pt III - S.H
Pairing - Teacher!Steve Harrington x Single!Mom!Reader
WC - 4.3k
Summary - A winter dance recital prompts you and Steve to spend a little more time together outside of the school.
AN - here they are again! the crowd favs it seems. thank you all so much again for the love on previous parts, i’m so excited for everyone to see where the story is headed and what these two losers get up to next. ~ emma <3
Outside the door labeled with a plaque that reads ‘Mr. Harrington’ in neat font, you can just barely make out the faint hum of a distantly familiar song. The door is slightly ajar but you still give a soft knock before entering to announce your arrival.
“Mommy!” Abbey shouts as she barrels towards you; whatever activity she was previously occupied with long forgotten.
“Hi, bug!” You greet through a quiet grunt as you hoist her up. “How was your day?”
Steve had taken to tutoring Abbey after class most days. He had originally offered under the guise that she was falling behind some of the other kids, and while that may be true, you suspect that he really offered because he noticed how guilty you’d been recently for being late picking Abbey up from school. Your job has been keeping you past three, despite having told them repeatedly that you have to clock out by two. You can’t afford to lose said job– rendering you both effectively homeless– and embarrassingly enough, Steve knows this.
“Good!” she wriggles out of your arms, not too partial for physical affection these days, “I was showing Mr. H my dance for the recital!”
“Is that so?” You ask, amused.
“Yes, but Mr. H is not very good at dancing–” she makes a pitiful face that she unsuccessfully hides from Steve.
“--Hey!” Steve laughs, “I think I’m pretty good!” Trying to sound confident but faltering, it elicits a boisterous laugh from you.
“Show us your moves then, Harrington,”
“Fine,” he huffs defiantly and hilariously contorts himself into what he thinks is a correct position for a pirouette. He balances on one foot– the other one tucked clumsily into his knee– and brings his arms up and over his head like one of those spinning jewelry box ballerinas.
“No, that’s really good. You should keep going,” you try to trap your giggling between your teeth, but Abbey doesn’t spare him such mercy, as she is literally doubled over in a fit of laughter watching him.
“Jerks!” He stops his sorry excuse for a twirl long enough to take in the sight of Abbey, who’s still cackling so much she doesn’t even notice he’s done with this antics. A knowing, affectionate glance is shared between you two at the sight of her.
“Whaddya think, Ab? Am I ready for the big stage?” He motions towards himself flamboyantly– striking a pose with his hands on his hips. Not sensing his sarcasm, she exclaims, “No!” incredulously through her gasping, trying to catch her breath. You imagine this isn’t the first instance of this happening today.
“I guess I’ll leave the dancing up to you then, huh?”
Suddenly, her expression erupts with a look of joy that only comes from a great epiphany,
“Can you come to my recital?!”
–
“Mommy that hurts!” Abbey whines from where she’s seated on the bathroom counter.
“Just a few more minutes and then we’ll be done, I promise.”
Trying to tame her unruly curls into a slicked and gelled ballerina bun was proving to be more challenging than you originally thought. Her dance teacher's instructions were very clear, however– the hair must be in a bun, accompanied by the most ridiculous amount of blush you’ve ever seen on a child, so that she doesn’t look pale under the stage lights.
One entire bottle of hair gel and several broken hair ties later, the updo is as neat as you can possibly manage, “Alright, girl, you’re all set. Let’s go get your costume on, yeah?”
She nods as you assist her off the counter and onto the tiled bathroom floor. She books it to her room and you follow suit, but when you look in her closet where you could’ve sworn you left her costume– it's nowhere to be seen.
“Abbey… where’s your costume?” You ask through a tight lipped smile, suspecting you know exactly what happened to it.
“I don’t know…” she answers mousily.
“Were you using it to play dress-up?”
She breaks instantly– her guilty conscience making it impossible for her to lie to you for very long, “Yes but!--”
“--Abbey!”
“I put it right back where I found it!”
You take a deep, grounding breath before you truly start to overreact, “Well obviously not, Ab. Just help me look for it, okay?”
Twenty excruciating minutes later, you’re sweating and on your hands and knees tearing through your daughter’s closet; the mess you’re making is a problem for your future self. Every item of clothing starts to look exactly the same– just an amalgamation of pink and glitter and blinding sequins.
“I found it, mommy!” Abbey yells triumphantly from the hallway as she sprints into her room– beaming and holding the tutu like it's a gold medal.
“Yes!” You gasp with relief and haphazardly crawl in her direction, suddenly thankful that no one else can witness you in such a state, “Hurry, let’s put it on.”
You slip the sparkly red and green costume on her as quickly as possible without damaging the bun you just spent at least an hour on. She does a little twirl, grinning ear to ear, “I feel like a princess!” She exclaims.
In the car, you struggle to buckle her seatbelt over her frilly tutu. After a little finessing, you figure it’ll be fine for the drive up the road to the local high school where the recital is being hosted in their auditorium.
–
In the lobby, you’re looking as disheveled as you feel. Abbey held one of your arms, and in the other you carried a small duffle bag full of extra hair products and a spare set of tights. She’s bouncing with nerves beside you, and asking you for at least the fifth time in ten minutes, ‘Where’s Mr. H?’
“I’m sure he’s here, Ab, we just have to find him,” you reassure her again, anxiously chewing the inside of your cheek as you scan the room for a perfectly manicured head of chestnut colored hair.
And as if he’s got some powerful sixth sense for knowing when he’s needed, you spot him timidly entering the double doors, dodging stray children and looking a little out of place. He holds a small bouquet of red roses that match the shade of his cheeks and nose– tinted red from the biting chill of early December winds.
“Steve!” You call from where you and Abbey stand near the makeshift dressing rooms– waving frantically to get his attention for your daughter's sake just as much as your own, “Over here!”
A look of recognition and then relief passes over his features when he identifies where his name is being called from, and slowly but surely starts to make his way over to you both. If he was just smiling before, he was positively beaming when he caught the sight of Abbey for the first time. His strides increase in length to catch up to you faster.
“Abbey! Look at you!” He compliments, and suddenly she’s all bashful. The man she looks up to almost as much as her own mother is here to see her perform for the first time, with a bouquet of flowers and an unrelenting grin plastered on his face. The sight does nothing to extinguish the steadily growing fire that’s made a home in the pit of your chest the past four months.
She shyly eyes the flowers in his hands– the bouquet almost the length of her own torso, “I brought these for you,” he extends them out for her and she accepts them timidly, swaying on her feet like she can’t stand to be still, “Thank you,” she all but whispers.
“Of course,” he squeezes her little hand as he straightens back to his full height. He directs his attention to you, “How are you? Did everything go alright?” Now you’re sure you look as frazzled as you feel.
“We had a mishap or two, but nothing we can’t handle. Right, Ab?” She’s not paying the slightest bit of attention– too busy observing the older kids as they mingle in front of the auditorium with their friends, “I’ll tell you about it later,” you give him a lopsided grin.
“Yeah, okay,” he nods, “when does the show start?”
Checking your watch, you reply, “Just a few minutes. I’m going to drop her off backstage, stay here.” He gives a two finger salute and you recapture Abbey’s focus enough to guide her down the hall where dozens of other dancers in identical costumes were congregating.
You kneel down to her eye level, “I’m so proud of you, you’re going to be amazing,” gently pinching her blushing cheek for emphasis, “Mr. H and I will be right up front, okay?”
She nods once, “Okay, momma,”
“I love you, Ab,” you give her one last squeeze before sending her off, albeit begrudgingly. You know she’s in good hands with the instructors, but lately it seems like the universe keeps finding new ways to shove in your face just how quickly she’s growing up.
When you relocate Steve, he’s standing exactly where you left him.
“You ready?” He asks as you approach.
“Mhm,” you nod and smile in response, suddenly too nervous to meet his gaze. Being around him with Abbey is one thing, but without her as a buffer, you find yourself getting increasingly jittery.
An usher hands Steve a program for the recital, which he promptly passes to you before thanking the woman. You can feel his right hand just barely hovering over your lower back with a featherlight pressure to guide you through the swarms of families attempting to enter the auditorium. You don’t think it’s even a conscious act, but the touch makes your heart– for lack of a better phrase– drop into your ass. You come to the stark realization that to the untrained eye, you must resemble two doting parents here to watch their child perform.
“Alright, where are we sitting?” He asks, breaking you out of your stupor.
“Oh–uhm,” trying and failing to speak around the dry muscle that sits in your mouth like lead, “Row C, I think,”
When you reach your assigned seats, he waits for you to go ahead of him, holding his arm out as if to say ‘ladies first’, just like he did that day on the bus. It makes you swoon just as much now as it did then. The auditorium feels sweltering.
“Hey,” he places a clammy hand on your knee when he notices you zoning again, “You okay?” Oh my God get it together, you think.
“Oh, yeah, it’s just,” you pull at the neckline of your wool sweater, “It’s a little warm in here, isn’t it?”
“A little bit, yeah. Long morning?” He asks with an empathetic wince.
“You could say that,” you chuckle breathlessly, “With her? Every morning is a long morning,”
“You can say that again,” he shares in your laughter, “keeps me on my toes, alright.”
“I don’t know where she gets it from,” you sigh introspectively, “some days I feel like she couldn’t be less like me even if she tried.”
“I beg to differ,” The way he smiles at you sets you on fire from the inside out, but the lights dim– signifying the beginning of the show– before you get the chance to ask him what he meant. It’s only then that he removes his palm from your leg, and you immediately miss the weight of it resting there.
The Nutcracker theme plays over the loudspeaker as a group of ten or so little girls perform a haphazardly put together ballet number. Almost all of them are doing something different, but with huge, toothy smiles on their faces nonetheless. Originally, putting Abbey in dance served as a way to tire her out before bedtime and give yourself a measly hour of alone time, but seeing how much effort she’s put into practicing and how much joy she takes in performing cements your decision to keep her in class.
She performs wonderfully, just as you suspected she would. Always your little perfectionist. You may be biased, but you thought she was the most elegant and beautiful little girl on that stage.
When the company takes their bows, you and Steve both shoot up at the same time to give a standing ovation. Everyone else stays seated, which would have been embarrassing if you weren’t so filled to the brim with pride for your daughter. There was simply no room in your body for any other emotion.
“Yay, Ab!”
“Let’s go, Abbey!”
You both shout simultaneously, clapping your hands ecstatically.
–
Back in the lobby, your arms are overflowing with Abbey’s things from the dressing room along with the flowers Steve brought her.
“Did you see me?!” She asks expectantly, as if you could’ve seen anyone else up there except for her.
“Of course we did!” Steve assures her quickly, “For a second I thought I was watching the real Nutcracker,”
She blushes wildly, “Really?” If you didn’t know better, you thought you could’ve seen stars reflecting in her pupils.
“Totally! You were the best one up there,” he takes his forefinger and mimics drawing an ‘X’ shape over the left side of his chest, “Cross my heart.”
Abbey tugs on the hem of your sweater you were starting to become too warm in again, “Can we still go get milkshakes?” she asks. You had forgotten all about her stage fright induced breakdown two days ago, during which you promised to get her a treat if she went through with performing.
Checking the time, you saw it was already well past eight o’clock– but what would one late bedtime hurt?
“Sure, that sounds yummy. Say goodbye to Mr. H, then we’ll go,” she barrels into his legs at full speed– her signature– and wraps her arms tightly around his knees.
“Bye, Abbey, I’ll see you on Monday, ��kay?”
She reluctantly loosened her grip on his legs and made her way back to her designated spot next to you.
“Goodbye, Steve, thanks for coming.” You give a small wave accompanied by a tender smile.
“Thanks for having me.” He said, returning the gesture.
Feeling a little reluctant yourself, just as Steve was crossing the threshold of the double doors, you called,
“Hey, Steve?”
He turned back at the sound of your voice, looking at you over his shoulder just enough for you to admire the straight slope of his nose and the twin moles on his cheek. He was giving you that warm, anticipative smile you were beginning to grow particularly fond of.
“Yeah?”
“Would you–uhm,” Don’t get nervous now, “Would you want to join us?”
–
At Benny’s, Abbey insists on sharing a booth with Steve while you sit opposite of them on an uncomfortable, sticky vinyl chair. Steve orders a basket of fries to share and shakes for the table. Strawberry for Abbey, and chocolate for the adults.
At one point, Abbey lifts the straw from the old fashioned shake glass and attempts to spoon the whipped cream into her mouth, consequently dripping the frozen treat all over the front of her sweatshirt. You try not to fuss, even though you’re plagued with the fear that you won't be able to get the stain out of her brand new hoodie. Such is having a five-year-old, you suppose.
Steve was quick to grab the napkins at the far end of the table, surprising you with his reflexes– like he knew the mishap would occur before it actually did.
As he’s dabbing Abbey’s shirt dry, she studies his hand and asks, “Why don’t you have a wife Mr. H?”
“Abbey!--” You scold through a poorly concealed laugh. Steve barks out a shocked huff of laughter himself.
“How do you know I don’t have a wife?” He asks, looking a little dumbfounded at the suddenly intrusive line of questioning, but amused nonetheless.
“Well, mommy used to wear a ring for daddy, but you don’t wear a ring.” She observes, “Aren’t grownups supposed to be married?”
“Ab–” You grow quickly embarrassed by your child’s lack of a filter and social cues. Again, such is having a five-year-old.
“No, that’s okay,” Steve chuckles, only slightly reassuring you, “I guess I–” he contemplates, choosing his words carefully, “I just haven’t met anyone I want to marry yet,” the only thing giving you solace is the knowledge that he probably deals with children asking him much, much more embarrassing questions, all day long.
“Oh,” Abbey says, doing some of her own contemplation, “that’s okay, Mr. H,” she comforts, like a little therapist, patting his back twice before refocusing her attention back on her milkshake.
You send Steve a look across the table, trying your hardest to convey ‘I’m so sorry my child says the shit she says, forgive me?’ with just your expression. He seems to understand what you’re attempting to get across, because he simply shakes his head and smiles like he’s trying to tell you ‘I spend everyday with her, I get it. Don’t worry about it.’
You spend the next half hour or so swapping your funniest workplace stories with each other.
“So then, we’re in the middle of a quiz right? This kid, he just–” he motions with his hands near his mouth, “projectile vomits all over the desk and the kid sitting in front of him,”
“Oh…” you wince with second-hand disgust, “that’s brutal,”
“I know!” he laughs, “I literally had to evacuate the entire classroom,”
“I feel like I remember Abbey telling me about that, actually,”
At the mention of her, he glances to his side, “Speaking of,” he chuckles.
You follow his eyes to find Abbey slumped over into Steve’s side– completely dead to the world. You can tell she’s asleep by the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing.
Steve carefully fishes a twenty dollar bill out of his jeans pocket– careful not to disturb her– and places it on the table underneath a sweaty glass that at one point contained a diet coke.
“Oh, no you don’t have to–” you say, reaching for the bill when he delicately grabs your wrist to stop you from trying to shove it back towards him. His palms are much softer than you anticipated, and the sudden movement of his arm sends a wave of his scent straight up your nose– nearly suffocating you. What a lovely way to go, you think.
“Hey, it’s okay. I want to,” he reassures you as he pushes your hand he’s still holding back in your direction. You oblige him, only because you don’t have the energy for a chivalry competition. You make a promise to yourself that if you’re ever fortunate enough to do this with him again, that you’ll foot the bill.
When you try to gently shake Abbey awake, he stops you again, “I got it,” he says, as he hoists Abbey up and carries her bridal style out of the diner and to your little sedan; you wish the waitress a good night as you exit. It’s a dark night outside, no moon or stars to be observed. The navy velvet of the sky is completely blanketed by heavy clouds. It’ll probably snow soon.
You open the rear passenger side door for Steve as he sets Abbey in her seat and fumbles a little bit with the seat belt mechanism. As he’s ducking back out, he rises just a second too early and rams his head on the top of the car with a harsh ‘THWACK!’ You try to stifle a surprised laugh behind the back of your hand as he groans and shuts the door as softly as he can.
“Oh my God, are you okay?!” You take a step closer to him as he scratches at the back of his usually perfectly coiffed locks, having lost its usual volume.
“Don’t laugh!” He playfully scolds.
“You’re laughing!” you quickly retort.
“Because you’re laughing!”
Once you’ve calmed a bit– reduced to just quiet giggling– you ask, “Can I look?” With that, he turns to give you a better look at the back of his head.
From this angle, you can unabashedly blush and grin at him and not have to worry about him seeing you. You relish in it for as long as possible, as well as the excuse to touch him, even for a moment.
“How do I look, doc? Am I gonna make it?” He says with a faux grim tone to his voice.
“Well, I’m just the receptionist– but you’re not bleeding, no cracks or contusions, either. I think you’ll be alright,”
You grin when he turns back around to face you again, this time with less space separating you, accounting for how closely you were inspecting his head. You stay like that for a moment too long, giving you just enough time to count the freckles spattered across the bridge of his nose like constellations lacking in the sky above you, and how his lashes kiss at the corner of his eyes.
He harshly clears his throat– a nervous habit, you’ve noticed– and looks down at the pavement where you stand, inches from each other.
“I’d better let you get her home, it’s getting late,”
“No yeah– definitely uhm…” you struggle to find your words again, “I’ll see you Monday?”
“Yeah,” he smiles fondly, “Oh, I uh– I wanted to give you this,” from out of his coat pocket, he pulls a crumpled piece of paper and hands it to you. It must’ve been in his pocket for at least a few hours, maybe even a few days– the ink smudged like he’d been nervously fidgeting with it before he gave it to you.
It was his phone number.
“You know, in case you ever–” he clears his throat again, “in case you ever need anything, or there’s an emergency, or something…” he trails off at the end of his thought like he’s completely regretting the gesture and already trying to figure out a way to back track, but before he can get the chance, you embrace him in a grateful hug.
“Thanks, Steve,” you say, slightly muffled by the hood of his coat, “I really appreciate everything you do for Abbey,”
He doesn’t mention how he gave the number of his landline to you in case you ever needed anything, he just takes the win for what it is. You have his phone number, and you’re hugging him. The perfect floral scent of your shampoo and whatever perfume you’re wearing flood his senses, and he immediately misses your touch when you pull away.
“Mommy?” Abbey croaks tiredly from the backseat, “Are we going home?”
“Yes, baby, one second,” you smile apologetically at Steve for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, “I’m gonna get her to bed.”
“Of course, go,” he says as he ushers you around to the driver's side door. As much as he craves to, he doesn’t open it for you. Maybe another time, he thinks.
“Goodnight, Steve.” You say before you pull the door closed.
“Goodnight, drive safe,” he aims his sights for the backseat, “Goodnight, Ab. You did awesome today,”
“Bye, Mr. H,” she waves, eyelids heavy with the exhaustion of being everyone’s favorite five-year-old all day.
Steve waits until you’ve pulled out of the parking lot, hands shoved tightly into his jeans pockets, before walking to his own car across the parking lot.
–
About halfway home and in between bouts of nodding off, Abbey asks quietly from the backseat, “Can Mr. H be like daddy?”
Startled and slightly confused by the nature of her question, you lock eyes with her through the rearview mirror, “What?”
Even though you fully heard her the first time, she reiterates, “I mean like, because we don’t have a daddy anymore,” she pauses– thinking, “maybe he could come live with us?”
“Oh, I don’t know, baby. It doesn’t always work like that, you know?” It breaks your heart to break hers.
“But–” she pouts in that adorable way that she does when she’s trying to lure you into giving her something she wants. Though this time, you can’t tell if it’s genuine or not. “He said he doesn’t have a wife!”
You can tell she’s too tired to have a productive discussion about this, and frankly– you have not a single idea of how to approach this subject, “Tell you what– how about we talk about it tomorrow when you wake up, yeah?” You try to reason, but secretly hoping she’s too drowsy to remember this conversation in the morning.
Mid-yawn she responds, “Okay…” clearly losing her battle with the hypnotic hum of the engine lulling her softly back to sleep.
–
At well past eleven o’clock, you find yourself sinking into the cushions of your thrifted sofa, staring at the faded piece of paper with Steve’s phone number scrawled on it so hard you thought it might burst into flames and disintegrate.
The drone of black and white reruns playing on the television was your only reprieve from the rushing spiral of your rumination, as you fought the urge to call Steve and ask what counted as ‘an emergency or…something.’
You wondered, against your better judgement, what you’d be interrupting if you gave into your temptation. You wonder if he, too, is lying restless somewhere in his house just like you were– if he has someone there to keep him company, and maybe you’d gotten this all wrong. You wonder if his walls are filled to the brim with photos of his life before Maine, and what brought him here in the first place. You wonder if he sleeps with the fan on or off.
You wonder if you should even be feeling this way at all.
But somewhere, in a mostly empty house on Ashburton street, Steve is staring at the white expanse of his popcorn ceiling of his bedroom pondering identical thoughts about you.
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I’ve never understood why we shoot off fireworks in the USA for the 4th, I just feel like it could trigger some of our veterans and it makes me feel awful! Could you write something like this with Buck?
hello! 💖 in my country we only shoot them on new year's eve but since I own two cats, I hate them 😡 one of my cats is so terrified each time that he literally has spasms 😥 the older he gets, the more worried I am each new year's eve tbh 😐 anyway, thank you for your request! 🎆 I was actually thinking of something like this with Buck!
I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻
It was the first Independence Day after the war and you were excited that you would celebrate it with your husband for the first time in two years. Especially now, after the victory, it felt more special than ever.
You decided to throw a barbecue for your befriended neighbours and you had been preparing the house and the garden for the whole week – putting up decorations with Buck’s help and cleaning everything. In the last two days you had also been busy with cooking meals and preparing salads while Buck had been supplying your fridge with everything needed for the barbecue – all sorts of meat, vegetables and sodas.
The only thing you hadn’t bought were the fireworks. You wanted to save some money, especially after hearing that different neighbours down the street were preparing a real show anyway. Surprisingly, Buck had agreed to that pretty quickly although you had expected him to try to convince you to get your own fireworks. Not because he had ever been a big fan of them but he never liked it when you were using the “saving money” argument. Whenever you would use it in different situations – like deciding whether to buy a dress or not – he would say “if it makes you happy, we can afford that”. And he knew very well that this barbecue party was making you happy.
However, you didn’t ask about it because it didn’t seem to be significant enough and you completely forgot about it anyway, too busy with all the preparations.
The barbecue started in the afternoon and the weather was beautiful on that day – clear, blue skies above you, giving you a perfect view of the fireworks here and there in the distance. You were handing the bottles of beer and coke to the guests while Buck was in charge of the barbecue when one of the neighbours asked a question that made you freeze.
“Damn, it’s like back there again, is it not?” He chuckled at Buck.
His name was Frank and he had been to Europe as well but not as a pilot. He was obviously referring to the fireworks in the background as he tried to turn it into a joke but his wife Helen hissed at him.
You suddenly realised that the sound of fireworks was not the same to everyone and you looked at your husband, worried. He might have seemed to be pretty alright after the horrors he had endured but you knew him better than everyone else and you knew. You knew about his nightmares and panic attacks. They were rare but they still were happening, sometimes triggered by the things you had never thought of before as threatening. Like with the fireworks.
“I don’t pay attention to them,” Buck gave Frank a kind smile. “My brain just shuts the sound off at this point,” he explained and he seemed to be genuine in his answer, which made you sigh in relief.
You went back to handing out the sodas and glanced at the watch on your hand. It was half an hour until the fireworks show promised by the neighbours living down the street.
When everyone had a bottle of their chosen beverage already, you joined your husband’s side to help him with the meat and vegetables. Rubbing his arm softly and laughing at the jokes being told by the others, you felt happy and satisfied with your life. Finally, after such a long time, it was back to normal, you thought. Well, nearly.
Everyone was sitting by the table in your garden and talking when you realised you had forgotten to bring mustard and ketchup.
“I’ll get it,” Buck smiled at you and stood up.
“Grab me a can of coke from the fridge, too, darling,” you told him and he nodded before disappearing inside the house.
A short moment later, the fireworks show started. Your neighbours living down the street had to spend a real fortune on it because the fireworks were many and very, very loud. You gasped and watched in awe as others stood up and cheered.
You, Helen and Frank were the only ones left sitting by the table. From the corner of your eye, you spotted that Frank’s face changed. He was no longer smiling and his skin lost some of its colour. Helen was squeezing his shaky hands and whispering something to him.
A very loud firework made you flinch while others screamed out of joy and Frank jumped on his seat. You stood up rapidly, realising that Buck hadn’t come back from the house yet.
“Helen, listen,” you leaned in to talk to her despite the noise. “You can go inside with Frank, it’s okay,” you assured her.
“Thank you,” she mouthed out with gratitude in her eyes before urging him to stand up and follow her inside.
You, however, weren’t waiting for them because you were rushing to the house yourself. You froze at the sight of your husband sitting by the kitchen table and hiding his face in his shaky hands. In fact, his whole body trembled and there was a broken bottle of mustard in the middle of the floor. He had to drop it when the fireworks show started.
Your heart broke at the sight. Your Buck was the strongest and the bravest man you knew. You would always go to him when you needed comfort or help because he was so capable of making everything – everything – better. He was good at fixing things in the physical sense but he was also always comforting you with his kindness and calm nature. He would never panic about anything and you had always admired him for that.
In moments like this, you felt helpless because you couldn’t take his pain away. And if you could, you would. He had already suffered so much that from now on, you’d rather suffer for him. But you were also angry – angry at the war for taking place and breaking him so much.
“Darling…” You started slowly and crouched down in front of him, carefully, trying not to startle him. He didn’t seem to acknowledge your presence, though. “Darling…” You repeated and put your hands on his trembling thighs.
He flinched and you shushed him while tears streamed down your cheeks.
“Shh, shh, baby, it’s me, it’s okay, you’re home,” you tried to soothe him. “You’re with me now, you’re safe,” you assured but it was not working.
You took a deep breath in and moved up now, to stand above him. You put your hands on Buck’s ears, trying to shield him away from the noise coming from the outside. And then, gently, you pulled his face closer to you and pressed it to your tummy. You leaned in to kiss the top of his head and whisper sweet nothings that were supposed to calm him down and after a while it seemed to be working. You could feel his muscles relaxing and eventually he stopped hiding his face in his hands and wrapped his arms around your waist instead, clinging to you like a little boy.
When the fireworks show stopped and it was quiet again, you moved your hands away from Buck’s ears and began to rub his back soothingly instead.
“It’s alright now, baby, you’re home with me. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” you promised in a whisper, sniffing back your own tears.
Buck looked up at you with teary eyes and you cupped his face to wipe his tears off of his cheeks with your thumbs. You let your fingers trace his scars and your lower lip trembled. Not that you minded those scars – not at all – but they were yet another reminder of what horrors he had been through. And he was just a man – as weak and scared as everyone else; only forced to be brave.
You understood now why he was scared of having a son with you one day. He was scared of another war coming sooner or later and he was scared of his own child going through what he had gone through.
You feared that, too. And you didn’t even fully know what had happened in Europe. Only the men who had been there knew. Women – especially those who had stayed back home – they would never understand.
“Are you back with me now, my love?” You asked, gently. Buck nodded after a while of hesitation.
“Sorry ‘bout the mustard,” he mumbled out and you chuckled as you shook your head.
“It doesn’t matter, darling,” you assured him.
But you were grateful that Buck’s panic attacks were like that. Perhaps it was wrong to be grateful for such things but you had heard enough stories of triggered men who would do much worse things while having panic attacks.
“I’m sorry…” He breathed out as fresh tears pricked his eyes.
“Don’t,” you interrupted him as you crouched down again and held his hands now to squeeze them tight. “Don’t, Gale, please, don’t ever apologise for that,” you pleaded and he looked down.
“I didn’t expect them to be so loud and so… Close. I… I suddenly wasn’t in our kitchen anymore but back in the air, up in the fort and the Germans were shooting at us and I was trying to focus on flying but deep down I was just… I was just praying to get back home to you and all I could see was your face when they tell you I’m dead and…” He started and you pursed your lips to stop your own tears from falling.
“I know, baby, I know. But it’s over now, yes? You’re back home with me, safe and sound,” you reminded him and leaned in to place a kiss upon one of his hands.
You heard footsteps behind you. It was Helen peeking inside shyly. You turned around to shake your head at her and she gave you an understanding look before walking out without a word.
“Let’s clean up now, yes?” You let go of Buck’s hands and fixed your hair before standing up clumsily.
You occupied yourself with cleaning the mess from the broken mustard bottle and Buck washed his face with cold water in the kitchen sink. You handed him some of the paper towels you were using so he could dry his face.
“You’ve missed the fireworks show because of me,” he pointed out.
“God damn those fireworks shows, Buck!” You exclaimed. “God damn them. I don’t want to see any ever again. I’m sorry that I didn't think that it would… That it would scare you like that,” you apologised.
“Well, it takes time to come to terms with the fact that your husband is a coward now,” Buck sighed and so did you, while throwing the used paper towels into the trash bin aggressively.
“My husband is not a coward and has never been. However, that self-pity attitude is new to me,” you told him and he turned his head around to look at you. “My husband is the bravest man I know,” you added. “He is my hero. And I don’t allow you to talk about him this way, you hear me? I have defended him from all the women in town telling me that men in the captive camps were no real heroes and I will defend him from you, too, when you’re so mean to him, Buck, I mean it.”
“Stop, or I’ll cry again,” he shook his head and sniffled.
There was a hint of a smile on his face and it made you grin as well before you approached him and wrapped your arms around him to hug him tight.
“I love my wife, too. The most in the whole wide world,” he assured you and hugged you back while pressing his lips to the top of your head but you could still understand his words. “I wasn’t brave, really, I wasn’t. I just did everything it took to come back to you.”
MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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On set of Dune II
This part of “The delicate beginning rush” universe- whole series HERE
If you want to be tagged
Masterlist
Pairing: Austin Butler x fem reader
Warning: smut 18+, blow job, cursing, MINORS PLEASE BE AWARE
Word count: 2k
Plot: you want to surprise Austin on the set of dune 2 and he gets shy about his fight scenes, but that is all forgotten when you work your magic on him.
A/n: this was a request by someone and it was so exciting to write, if you have more, send them to me and I’ll get to them as soon as I can.
With my busy schedule I barely got my assistant to fit this surprise flight to Budapest, so I could visit Austin on set of Dune 2. We haven't seen each other in person in 5 weeks, filming taking all of our time, on opposite sides of the world. It's not easy and it definitely is not pleasant, but we aren't the first nor the last to go through long distance. I have a few days off, time which I should have spend in the studio with Taylor, who's working on her new album, but I could not stay any longer without seeing Aus.
"Y/n so nice to meet you in person, I'm Denis. I have to say, I look forward to some day working with you, you're amazing!" The director says, putting his hand forward for me to shake. I smile kindly at him and take his hand. "Oh that's so beautiful of you to say, I look forward to that day as well, your work is so detailed and ambitious." I giggle, blushing a bit at his compliments. "Now I know this is a surprise for Austin, I did not say anything" he zips his lips closed chuckling "but you do have to sign some papers, just formalities you know." I nod and sign away, promising not to tell anything that I see today to anyone. "He's working, full make up, so brace yourself, it's really, it's a bit scary, come on."
Denis puts his hand on my shoulder and leads the way, as we walk I can start hearing grunting and thudding and all sorts of scenes. I am a bit worried about seeing Austin in full make up and acting like this psychotic character, considering that after the first time seeing him over video in full makeup I had a horrible nightmare. Granted he did call me at 3 am in the morning and I did answer kinda unconsciously, but still. There's big lights centered on two figures in the middle of a blue room, the rest is pretty dimly lit, so my eyes take a moment to adjust. I could recognize Austin's grunts anywhere, having had them in my ear for so long, so my knees feel a bit weak, my skin already hungry to feel him.
As I get used to the light, I see Austin move so athletically, jumping back avoiding hits, then throwing some good punches himself. He's been working very hard in the gym gaining a few pounds of muscle, looking toned like never before. God he looks so weird with this make up, I miss his blonde curly hair, thank god for the other movie he's filming, and this is all a fake bald cap. The other guy he's fighting with, uses a small knife, which I'm pretty sure it's fake but still scary. He swings it, in front of Austin's face and next thing I know he falls to the ground, catching himself mid fall, turning his head to the camera, showing his face full of blood. I stifle a scream, covering my mouth, feeling my heart pounding in my chest, I look at everyone, no one seems to notice. Austin flashes a smile, black teeth showing, with trembling hands I push my hair behind my ears and try and act as if I had known this was all an act.
"Cut! Austin man, amazing! Let's get makeup in here and clean it up, I want to shoot it one more time. Let's take five!" Denis says, and suddenly Austin's whole demeanor changes, it's so strange, he looks so scary, but his stance is so Austin. I clear my voice and wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, walking forward. Austin, being the sweet guy he is, is shaking hands with his partner. "Hi there stranger, need a tissue? I think you got a bloody nose." As soon as he hears my voice, he turns around, scooping my up in a tight hug, getting fake blood all over me. "Y/n!" Austin says, holding me tight to his chest, his lips kissing my neck, leaving wet splashes of fake blood. "Did you miss me baby?" I ask, patting his back, as my feet touch the ground. He doesn't answer, instead, his hands hold my face and he pulls me in for a kiss. It wet and bitter, even a bit sticky, but it tastes like him still. Austin breathes into the kiss, his tongue, entering my mouth exploring. I lace my hands around his neck and moan into him, forgetting for a minute where we are.
Austin pulls back resting his forehead on mine, breathing softly. "What are you doing here?" He asks a smile evident in his tone. I giggle when he rubs his nose against mine, pulling back to look at me. "Oh fuck, I got fake blood all over you, honey I'm so sorry!" He tries to wipe it with the back of his hand, but I take it away, holding his hand in mine. "It's fine, I'm just glad it's fake, I thought it was real." Austin can see that I'm as honest as they come and his eyes look sympathetic "I'm so sorry darling, I didn't mean to worry you!" He says, kissing my forehead head, then grunting annoyed. "I really should stop kissing you now." He says, rubbing his thumb over my forehead, on what I'm assuming is another fake blood stain. "You look so buff and scary, so so hot!" I say biting my lip.
"Really?" Even though all this white makeup I can see the slight blush he has on, turning all shy and avoiding eye contact. "So so hot!" I stand on my tiptoes and whisper in his ear, feeling him shiver as my breath fans over his skin. "I can't wait for you to make those pretty noises for me!" I laugh, but my breath gets stuck in my throat as his arms circle around me and he pulls me in, flush to his front. "Baby these leather pants are very very tight and leave no room." He says rubbing his pelvis in mine so I can feel his hard on. My blood starts boiling and I can almost see myself with him on top of me.
"Ask for ten minutes, bathroom break or something." I plead under my breath. Austin looks hesitant, but he still does it anyway. Denis gives his ok and we bolt to his trailer, knowing we don't have much time. I laugh all the way there and he tries to make small talk, telling me all about how filming as been going so far, event this he's already told all this stuff. I listen, but in the back of my head I'm far gone.
We close the door to his trailer and his lips are on mine instantly. His hands hold mine down, so that I won't be able to try and thread my fingers through his nonexistent hair. "Get on the bed!" I say breathless and step back, letting him move past me and onto the bed. "Y/n, my darling, I've missed you so so much." Austin says, sitting on his bed, leaning back a bit, legs spread wide, sporting a noticeable bulge. "I've missed you too." I admit and move in front of him, placing my hand in his hard on, squeezing him through his pants. "Fuck!" He says, throwing his head back. I work his pants open and slide them down enough to free his hard dick, looking red and needy. I lick my lips and get down on my knees. This would be my first time ever doing anything like this, but I've been thinking about it a lot and I've been wanting to try.
"Y/n y/n, no no baby you don't have to, honey come on!" Austin tries to lift me off the ground but I keep my position. "I want to, but I've never done it before, so if I do something wrong, just tell me. Please!" I bat my lashes at him and his hips thrust in the air. "Just, ok, but take it easy ok?" I nod and hold him in my hand. I spit on him and move my hand up and down, using my thumb to touch his head gathering more sleek from there. I can already feel my panties getting wet, so I squeeze my thighs together. I lean forward and take him in my mouth. So far he's been quiet, but now that my warm mouth is on him, he lets out a long breathy moan, fisting the sheets beside him. "Fuck, you are an angel! I love you so much!" He tastes salty, but good in a way. I swirl my tongue around and suck, bopping my head up and down. One of his big hands leaves the sheets and finds purchase in my hair. I moan around him and feel him shiver as a few more cures slip past his lips.
God I've missed him. "Fuck baby, you look so beautiful with your mouth around my cock, do you like it? Like how I fit in your mouth?" I love when Austin talks dirty to me, so I moan, picking up the pace, causing him to fall back on the bed, crying out In pleasure. I finally understand why he loves to do this for me, I think I could watch him like this for ages and not get bored. I feel him twitch in my mouth, so I move my free hand from his thigh, to his balls, squeezing softly. "Shit, fucking hell!" He grunts, pushing his hips a bit in my mouth. "Y/n, baby, I'm not going to last long, if you don't want it in your mouth, I'll tell you when ok?" I nod, but I know want it in my mouth, I've tasted him before, after giving him hand jobs, so now I'm more than eager to get a taste of him.
I sneak my hand under his balls and push slightly on the spot there, which causes Austin to jump off the bed a bit, pushing himself further down my throat making me gag, tears prickle my eyes. I breathe through my nose and relax for him, working on him, pushing on that secret spot. "Fuck, Y/n, baby that feels so good, ahh I'm cu-" he doesn't get to finish what he has to say, as his body goes rigid and he spills himself into my mouth. I stay calm and swallow him whole, enjoying they way it feels. When he's done, I let him out of my mouth, give him a few more strokes, ending with a kiss to his head, smiling at the way he curses.
He lifts me up into his arms and I lay my head in his chest. "Wow, are you sure you've never done this before? Because this must have been the best I've ever had!" Austin says out of breath. I giggle and kiss under his chin. "I like to read, I learn what I read." I explain, sighing when he moves his head to kiss my lips. His hand travels down my body and gives my ass a good squeeze, making me yelp, so he can sneak his tongue into my mouth.
A knock on the door as us parting, him quickly putting his pants on and me, wiping my face with a tissue. "Back on set!" A voice shouts from the other side of the door. "In a minute!" Austin screams back, trying to make himself as presentable as possible. "Can I come watch you some more?" I ask, turning the water on to was the dried fake blood from my face. I look back at Austin and he looks so timid now, scratching the back of his head. "I mean of course baby..."
"Aus..? What's up?" I ask using a towel to dry my face, while I look at him, his eyes wondering the room, avoiding mine. "Well I guess I'm just a tad shy, you know, I have to act pretty barbaric out there and I feel so silly, I'm just I don't know.." he says dropping his head. I get close to him and take his hands in mine, rubbing slow circles on his knuckles. "You don't look silly, you look fierce, and bold and scary, you have nothing to be shy about." I say kissing the tip of his nose. "Now come on big boy, you've got work to do, and the faster you finish here, the sooner you get to make love to me!" I wink at him and he chockes on his laughter, blushing a deep red.
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Title: The Boy Is Mine (Mar’s edition)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: A romantic night in doesn’t go exactly as Eddie had planned.
Word Count: 3.312
Warnings: Established relationship. Insecure Eddie. Hurt/comfort.
Notes: Written for @carolmunson’s The Boy Is Mine Writing Challenge (you can find the rules here). Super late entry and it feels like I’ve been working on this for months, but it’s only been about two and a half weeks. Anyway. Here it is.
At least I can finally read the other entries now so that’s the rest of my weekend sorted.
Not beta-read so if you find any mistakes… those are all mine.
“I’ll take care of everything,” Eddie promised you the night before. “You can just put your feet up, or on me if you want, and I’ll obey your every command. I am but your humble servant.”
It had been one month since you had moved in together and Eddie had insisted on doing this for you since he felt that he had been difficult to live with. Naturally you had disagreed with that assessment, but he had been adamant.
Every time that you walked into the bathroom and he had left the toilet seat up, he would apologize like it was the worst thing in the world. It didn’t matter that you kept telling him that you didn’t mind and that it was no trouble at all, he’d still apologize and dart around you to right the wrong.
Same thing happened when you found the odd sock in a place that wasn’t the laundry basket. Or when Eddie hadn’t used a coaster.
Ridiculous and tiny things that were easily overlooked and ignored. Nothing that would be able to ruin your day so you never called him out on these things, because you genuinely didn’t mind. It didn’t stop him from insisting that he was an awful boyfriend and promising to do better though.
Sure, living with Eddie provided some challenges, which was more down to this still being very new to both of you, but nowhere near as many as he himself seemed to think.
For now, you were eager to find out what he had in store for you. Eddie had been incredibly secretive about it and had offered up no clues whatsoever. The only things that he had said were that it was going to be cheesily romantic and that he would surprise you.
You had been looking forward to it the entire day and were positively buzzing as you parked your car next to his van. Work had been hectic this past week and you had been fast asleep at around eight every single evening.
Thankfully today had been relatively quiet so you had been able to leave early. Maybe you should have called to let him know, but you had completely forgotten in your excitement.
When you got out of the car, you could already hear Eddie swearing inside the trailer. The volume only increased the closer that you got and you could only silently apologize to your poor neighbors.
It made you giggle to hear him swear like a docker on the other side of the door. You could only guess as to why it was, but still tried to keep your face as passive as possible when you finally opened the door to see what lay within.
Nothing could prepare you for what was on the other side however.
The kitchen looked like a bomb had exploded in it and Eddie was standing right in the middle of the chaos with a pink flowery apron that had once belonged to your grandmother over his usual black outfit. It looked both ridiculous and endearing.
There were eggshells on the counter and the contents of said eggs were dripping down it. There were white footprints on the floor, because your boyfriend must have stepped in what you assumed (and hoped) was flour. And then there were the white globs of something that looked like frosting that were everywhere, including in his hair.
“Eddie?” Upon hearing your voice, he turned around with a horrified expression on his face since you had caught him in the act. The spoon that was in his hand clattered to the floor loudly. Whatever was on it spattered onto the floor and also left debris on his socks and his jeans. You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh. “What are you doing?”
“Oh fuck.” Eddie rubbed his hands on the apron, leaving white smudges in its wake. “I thought I had another hour at least.”
Very calmly, you took off your shoes and hung your coat and bag on a peg near the door before walking closer to survey the mess that your boyfriend had made. Somehow it was even worse up close and that was saying something.
There was a mixing bowl on the counter, which seemed to be the source of the mess, with a hand mixer next to it. You could picture him using the highest setting only to have the contents end up all over the place.
“I got to hand it to you, I’m definitely surprised,” you eventually managed to get out whilst desperately trying to suppress your giggles.
“But not exactly in the right way,” he admitted as he rubbed the back of his neck. “In my head, you would come home after I cleaned everything, with the table set all fancy, so many lit candles that it would be a fire hazard and with some sappy record playing.”
“That does sound nice.” There were paper molds with batter in them right behind Eddie, which he was unsuccessfully trying to block from view. “Shame that I got home a bit earlier.”
“You could always leave and pretend that you’ve never seen this.” That’s what finally makes you laugh and since you had been holding back for a while, it didn’t take long for your eyes to well up with happy tears. It made him crack a smile, too. “Which you’re obviously not going to do.”
“Course not,” you replied as you wiped your eyes. “And honestly, as much as I appreciate this,” you gestured around the messy kitchen and then at Eddie himself, “you need to take a shower.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna-“
“No,” you interjected simply and when it looked like Eddie was going to argue, you simply pressed your pointer finger on his lips to ensure that he kept silent. “No.”
“Fuck’s sake,” he mumbled against your finger. “This was supposed to be about you.”
“And I love it.” You pressed a kiss to his frosting stained cheek and could taste the vanilla. When you pulled away, his thumb wiped over your lips to clear the residue that was stuck to it away before sticking it into his mouth. “But I also like you clean and you are, and I’m sorry for saying this, a mess right now.”
“Thought you liked that,” he retorted with an accompanying wiggle of his eyebrows.
“I do yeah, but not when you’re covered in raw eggs, flour, cake batter and frosting.”
“Okay, okay, point taken,” he sighed deeply as he held his hands up to indicate that he was going to let it go. For now. “But I could always leave some of the edible bits on so you could lick them off later though,” he added with a wide and naughty grin.
“Absolutely not.” You pushed him out of the kitchen and in the direction of the bathroom. “If you want me to eat stuff off you, buy some Cool Whip.”
“Kinky!” Eddie laughed when your hand came down on his ass to give it a firm squeeze before he rounded the corner. “I’m not forgetting about that by the way,” he called out before closing the door behind him.
“Didn’t think you would,” you answered.
Part of you already knew that he’d run out to buy some the next morning and that at one point during the day you would end up finding him in the bedroom with the stuff lathered all over himself. You made a mental note to remember to put either a towel or a box of tissues in the bedroom tomorrow just in case, because you had a feeling that things could get messy.
But that was a problem for later. You had to deal with something else right now.
The kitchen was such a mess that you barely even knew where to begin, but the first thing that your eye fell on was a small notebook, one that Eddie always had on him, folded open to a page with a recipe that was written in handwriting that was much nicer than Eddie’s was, not to mention legible.
Chocolate cupcakes with vanilla buttercream frosting.
His little notebook was a closely guarded secret, something that your mortal eyes would not be able to comprehend (his words right before he had shielded it from you by holding a throw pillow in front of it). He used it to jot down notes for D&D campaigns, ideas that he got for lyrics, or whatever else that came to mind that he judged important enough to write down, so the fact that he used it for a recipe that he had procured for you was pretty meaningful.
This was quite possibly the sweetest thing that he had ever done, going through all this trouble for you by doing something that was completely alien to him, since he didn’t think that he was much of a cook. It wasn’t that he didn’t do it, it’s just that his repertoire seemed to be limited to heating up canned foods.
Lost in thought, you had barely even scratched the surface in concerns of the mess that Eddie had made, only managing to put several things in the sink and getting rid of the eggshells, when he reappeared again in a pair of black sweatpants with an old Iron Maiden shirt. If it wasn't for his wet hair, which was soaking the fabric of his shirt, you might have been inclined to think that he hadn’t washed himself at all.
“Did you just stick your head under the tap?”
“No. I took a shower, just like you asked.” He stepped in close enough so that you could smell the soap on his skin. “I just didn’t want you to clean my mess.”
“I don’t mind.”
“You always say that,” he groaned with obvious frustration. “Just let me do it.”
“We can do it together.” You held out a wet cloth to him, which he was eying reluctantly, simply because he felt that you weren’t supposed to help clean up the mess that he had made. “Is that a good compromise?”
“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”
“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’ for emphasis. “I insist.”
“So I basically have no choice.”
“Pretty much.”
“Okay, whatever.” Seeing that he had lost the discussion, he admitted defeat and finally took the cloth from your hands. “Help me clean then.”
Cleaning together was a lot faster than if he had gone at it alone and before you knew it, all the surfaces were wiped clean, the dishes had been done and were drying in the dish rack, and most importantly of all, the cupcakes were finally in the oven.
“See? That didn’t take too long, now did it?”
“You weren’t supposed to help though.”
That much was kind of made clear to you while the two of you were cleaning. There were little looks that Eddie threw in your direction, whenever he seemed to think that you weren’t looking, that seemed to indicate that he was less than pleased with your help. His expressions were also somewhat… pained at times? It didn’t make a lot of sense and only made you think about why he was even acting like this to begin with.
“I genuinely don’t mind. I wasn’t going to sit and watch you clean, you know that.” You took his hand, pulled him along in the direction of the couch and gestured at him to sit. “Now. What’s this about anyway?”
“What do you mean?” Eddie immediately started fidgeting, even more so than usual, and his leg started bouncing anxiously. “I was trying to do something nice for you.”
Something was obviously bothering him. It’s not that you didn’t appreciate that he had done all this, because you really really did but there was a reason behind this and you’d keep picking at him all night if you had to.
“Excellent deflecting. I’ll get it out of you somehow,” you replied with certainty.
Leaving him on the couch, you stepped back into the kitchen to check the oven and to get something to drink. Eddie had even splurged on the soda by buying something that wasn’t store brand and therefore cheaper. It was amazing how he had managed to plan all of this without giving anything away.
“We appear to have run out of nice cups.” Instead you held up a red plastic cup that you found earlier in one of the cupboards. “So is this okay?”
“We don’t have any nice cups,” he replied without missing a beat.
“How dare you,” you clutched at your chest, pretending to be aghast at his statement. “That Star Wars cup is the best thing that we own.”
“Oh yeah, of course it is.” He rolled his eyes when you mentioned your favorite cup. You were always waving it in his face whenever you needed a quick laugh. “You’re just saying that because you have a thing for Han Solo.”
“You’re just jealous that they didn’t have one with Leia on it.” You handed him his drink and settled in next to him on the couch. Nudging your shoulder into him, you asked, “Now, tell me, why did you do all this?”
“Is it a crime to want to do something nice for you?”
“No, of course it’s n-”
“So why are you interrogating me?”
“Because I know you.”
Eddie avoided your gaze and ran a hand down his face, because of course you’d be able to tell. He knew that he should have thought up some convincing excuse beforehand, but it was too late for that now and the chances that he’d successfully make up something on the fly were practically nonexistent.
Silence fell and for a second there, you thought that he wouldn’t tell you at all, that he would end up brushing it off, as if he was embarrassed to tell you the real reason, which was simply ridiculous. So what was it?
“I wanted to impress you,” he finally admitted softly and pulled you out of your train of thought. “Just once.”
His confession bewildered you and you genuinely didn’t know what to say. You had no idea that he had even felt this way, but you obviously needed to mend this situation since your actions seemed to have inadvertently caused this.
You liked taking care of Eddie, perhaps a little bit too much, and it seemed to have caused him to think that you didn’t need his help at all, which couldn’t have been farther from the truth.
“Eddie, that’s not- hey, look at me.” You cupped his face with your hands until his sad eyes, which were usually filled with so much warmth, finally focused back on you. “I’m already impressed.”
“You’re always looking after me, but I don’t do much,” he sighed dejectedly. “And I’m like the worst cook ever.”
"Aw, don't be like that. That’s not even true," you declared. “Your cooking is fine.”
“Don’t lie.”
“No one can make SpaghettiOs better than you can.”
“Ha, ha.” He tried to sound annoyed, but missed the mark completely when he (accidentally) laughed in earnest. It made him clear his throat in a very poor attempt to hide it. “Very funny.”
“Still made you laugh.” You poked a finger into one of his dimples until he jerked his head away with an even bigger grin than before. “I always like it when you make me breakfast.”
“That’s nothing special,” he shrugged. “Just buttered toast and fruit juice.”
“So? I like it just fine.” Seeing him act so dejectedly over feeling inadequate was breaking your heart and you felt like an idiot for never noticing it before. “Just take the compliment, please. You do enough. Trust me.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
“You want me to give examples? Okay, how about when my car broke down and you dropped everything to come pick me up.” It was the first example that came to mind and you could see a spark of amusement in his eyes when you reminded him. “Dustin wouldn’t talk to me for about a week because I ruined your D&D night.”
“The little shit only forgave you when I threatened to kill off his bard,” he laughed. “As if I was going to leave my girl at some seedy gas station in the middle of the night.”
“It was nine, still light out, and mister Jenkins was fine with me hanging out with him until the tow truck showed up.”
“Of course he was fine with it. Have you seen you?” His hand came down on your thigh, giving you a soft squeeze, since the sheer memory of that night ignited a spark of possessiveness inside him. “I don’t trust him.”
“The man’s at least seventy, Eddie!”
“So?” He said very matter of factly, as if it made perfect sense for Eddie to act so territorial around someone that posed no threat whatsoever. “He’s still a guy and I didn’t like how he was looking at you when I got there.”
“Oh yeah? You’d beat up an old man to defend my honor?”
“Babe, I would beat anyone up to defend your honor.”
“And that’s how you take care of me,” you replied resolutely, because he had just proven your point. “You’d take on the whole world for me.”
“I have to. You’re my girl.” Hearing those words were enough to make your heart swell about three sizes in your chest and you managed to catch him off guard when you pressed your lips against his for a quick kiss. “What was that for?”
“For being you,” you sighed contentedly as you rested your head against his shoulder. “That’s why I love you.”
“I love you too.” He put his arm around you and attempted to pull you even closer into his side. “Let me try this again. How about a romantic evening with me, your loving boyfriend, while I fully intend to feed you the cupcakes that I made all by myself, and maybe then we can watch a movie?”
“What movie?”
He pressed his lips into your hairline, suddenly embarrassed, and mumbled, “A Room with a View.”
“Really?” It made you pull away from him, wide eyed and excited, so you could see his face and found that he was dead serious. “You didn’t!” you exclaimed in surprise.
“I did,” he confirmed. “You should have seen Harrington’s face.”
“It’s not really your kind of movie.” Eddie’s taste in movies was fairly unique to put it mildly. He had a penchant for loving the ones that were unbelievably bad. “You must have really shocked him for not renting something shittier.”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with Hard Rock Zombies.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned when you remembered that particular movie. “Or Slumber Party Massacre, which you called an ‘underrated classic’ if I recall correctly?”
“It is! My tastes are just too high end for you and I accepted that shortcoming in you years ago-“
“Hey!”
“Let me finish.” It was his turn to place his index finger over your lips to ensure your silence this time around. “So yeah, I could have rented one of those masterpieces, but I didn’t because this is your night and this one came highly recommended by Robin. So, babe, would you do me the honor of watching this movie with me?”
“I would love to.”
“That’s what I thought,” he said with a self satisfied smile. “So just sit here and look pretty while I get everything ready, okay?”
“I shall eagerly await your return.” Eddie took your hand, kissed the back of it and let it slip from his grasp as he went back to the kitchen. “You’re such a dork.”
“Your dork,” he corrected. “And don’t you forget it.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t,” you confirmed.
And you wouldn’t. He was your guy after all.
#the boy is mine#stranger things#stranger things fic#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fic#mar writes
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Say that request are open so I have one for Scarlett x sister!reader
Reader is Scarlett younger sister maybe we are around 15-17. We used to be really close to Scarlett when we were younger but don’t see her anymore because she’s always busy with work. So one day she promised us she would take us out but completely forgets about it and she doesn’t realize into the next few days that she forgot she had plans with us and comes over to her parents house to try and make it up to us.
Idk if this makes any sense….
Forgotten sleepover
Y/N: 15 years old ——————————————————
NO ONE'S POV Humming her favorite song Y/N's finishing up her make-up, so she could go out with her older sister tonight.
Scarlett and Y/N used to be very close. Y/N used to tell her sister everything, she used to sleep over at her house nearly every weekend, though over the last few years they seem to have grown apart.
It's been a really long time since Scarlett had time for her little sister. It's not that she wouldn't want to, because she would want nothing more, but she's been working really hard on her own skin care line, The Outset. And if she's not at The Outset office, she's on set.
Y/N's been begging her older sister to make some time for her and it finally happened. It's Friday and the two are going out for dinner and then Y/N's even sleeping over at Scarlett's house just like the old times which she's super excited about.
Last few touches and Y/N's ready to go. She takes her bag and rushes downstairs to put on her shoes as Scarlett should be here in any minute.
Minutes after minutes pass though and Y/N's still waiting, thinking whether she should call her sister or not. Scarlett promised to spend time with her, so she surely needs to be here soon.
Meanwhile Scarlett shuts the door of her house, a sigh of relief escaping her lips after another stressful day at work. The blonde can't wait to have dinner, take a shower and go to bed. So that's exactly what she does, completely forgetting about the sleepover she promised to have with her little sister.
After nearly 2 hours of waiting Y/N gives up, tears filling her eyes while she's rushing back to her bedroom. She was so excited to finally see her sister and to spend some time with her and Scarlett just doesn't come.
———
The weekend flies by fast and it's Monday now. Scarlett still hasn't realized anything, though she's quite confused as why isn't her sister answering her calls and messages.
The blonde sighs after calling her little sister for what feels like a 100th time this morning. Right now she's home and about to drive to The Outset office.
She opens the calender on her phone to check what she needs to do today, her eyes widening when she spots what she had planned for last Friday's evening.
She needs to go to work though, so that's what she does and her entire day gets filled with thinking how could she make up last Friday to her baby sister.
When Scarlett finally leaves the office, instead of back home she drives to her parents' house, hoping Y/N would be home and she could make it up to her somehow.
She immediately heads upstairs, knowing her sister is most likely to be in her bedroom. And after knocking and opening the door, she finds her little sister sitting on her bed and scrolling on her phone.
"Mom, I'm really not hungry right now" Y/N says without looking who's at the door, making Scarlett let out a chuckle which makes Y/N look up. "What are you doing here? Don't you have some super important work to do?"
"Don't be like that, Y/N" Scarlett sighs, walking over to her sister's bed and taking a seat next to her.
"I was waiting for you 2 hours. I was so excited and you didn't even let me know you wouldn't come" Y/N crosses her arms over her chest, looking at her older sister.
"I'm sorry, I had a really stressful day and I just-"
"As always" Y/N scoffs. "You never have time for me anymore. I just want to spend some time with my sister. Am I asking too much?"
"Honey, I'm really, really sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you" Scarlett places her hand on her younger sister's knee, giving it a rub, though Y/N just rolls her eyes in response.
"Don't promise me anything when you can't fulfill the promise, Scarlett. I don't want to be disappointed again" Y/N says, her arms still crossed as she's looking at her sister.
"… Okay, fine. Pack your things. We're leaving" Scarlett orders, Y/N furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. "Come on, we'll have the sleepover"
"Scarlett, I have school in the morning. I-"
"I will drive you to school on my way to the office. You'll probably be there a bit sooner, but whatever. So? Are you coming or not?" Scarlett raises an eyebrow, watching her sister's still confused face impression and waiting for an answer.
"I- Y-yeah, I-I'm coming"
"Good. I'll talk to mom about it and wait for you downstairs" Receiving a nod, Scarlett makes her way downstairs while Y/N's rushing around her room to pack everything.
———
"I didn't really have time for cooking, so pizza for dinner?" Scarlett asks, closing the door of her house as the two just stepped inside.
"Sounds good" Y/N smiles, suddenly dropping her bag on the floor and practically jumping into her sister's arms, holding her tightly and never wanting to let go of her again.
Scarlett looks at her sister confused before shaking it off and wrapping her arms around the younger girl, a smile forming on her face.
"I missed you so much" Y/N mumbles out, still holding her sister tightly.
"I missed you too, sweetheart. I'm really sorry about last Friday, Y/N/N. I'll try to work on my schedule, so you and I could hang out more. Would you like that?" Scarlett asks, placing her hand on Y/N's cheek and rubbing it with her thumb.
"That would be awesome… Only if it's not too much of a trouble for you though" Scarlett can't help but smile on her sister's words, pulling Y/N in for another tight hug and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"I love you so much, Y/N/N" Scarlett smiles, pressing another kiss to the younger one's forehead.
"I love you too, Scarly"
----------------------
Scarlett Johansson masterlist
Masterlist
#scarlett johansson#scarlett x y/n#scarlett x reader#scarlett johansson x reader#scarlett johansson x you#scarlett johansson fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic
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am I the one you think about?
part 2!!
pairing: fred weasley x reader
summary: having your heart broken before love really blossomed hurts more than it should. but fred's flirty banter never quits. maybe your love story isn't quite over?
warnings: slightly angsty but with a happy ending
authors note: i am so sorry for how long this took! school got crazy and college applications are a nightmare. however, i hope you all had a good holiday season and enjoy this late christmas gift!
part one
CROSS-POSTED TO AO3
You refused to cry as you stomped back to your shop. Fred could do whatever he wanted. It wasn’t like the two of you were together or anything. He just flirted with you like crazy and you developed a massive crush on him.
And of course, the girl Fred was kissing was gorgeous. You couldn’t get her face out of your mind. Clear, gorgeous dark skin and eyes, black hair in a braided ponytail that looked effortless, and a tall figure that looked like she was meant to be a model for Quidditch robes.
You didn’t know how you even thought you could pull someone like him. Fred was gorgeous and strong and funny, and you were just…well, you. Not anything special.
You swore as you stepped into a massive puddle near your shop. Tears were beginning to prick your eyes, but you blinked them away. You would not cry over a man you knew not even twenty-four hours.
And it would be better if it didn’t work out, you thought. You were going to be very busy with your shop once it opened, and you wouldn’t have time for any sort of relationship. It would be an absolute logistical nightmare, and you had to focus on your business.
You nodded to yourself as you stepped inside your shop, decorated with candles, fairy lights, and plants. This was where you belonged. This was the important thing, not some stupid boy you met once.
*
MAGICAL HERBS AND HEALING GRAND OPENING!!!
You smiled to yourself as you lowered your wand and took in the exterior of your shop. Everything looked perfect. The plants were in place, the widow displays were shining, and best of all, the banner hung front and center, inviting anyone and everyone to come in.
People were beginning to trickle into Diagon Alley for some early morning shopping, so you rushed inside your shop and flicked the sign from open to closed. You bounced on your heels as you did some final checks to make sure that everything was in place.
You had already checked about seven times, but there wasn’t any harm in one more, was there?
Soon enough, you didn’t have time to check anything, too busy ringing up the barrage of customers who entered your store. The line was spread throughout the shop, and you couldn’t stop smiling as your products and potions flew off the shelves.
Your dreams were coming true. Everything was running smoothly, the customers were marveling at the aesthetics of your shop, and you’d gotten many promises to come back.
But the day couldn’t stay perfect forever, and your eyes widened as a familiar face entered the shop. You couldn’t help but notice Fred’s handsome face and body, but you cursed yourself. You would not be thirsting for a taken man.
Attempting to look as busy as possible, you straightened the boxes behind you and fussed with the register. You could feel his stare on your back, and it took every ounce of your will not to turn.
He is a taken man. He has a girlfriend.
And he is still staring at you.
After a generous amount of time, Fred cleared his throat. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment, and finally began to turn around. As slowly as humanly possible.
“That excited to see me, huh?”
You ignored him.
“And what are you looking for today sir?”
His eyes widened. “Sir? You haven’t forgotten my name already, have you?”
Taken man. Taken man. Taken man.
This was going to be an exercise in self-control.
“Just-” you paused. “Come on, Fred-”
“I knew you remembered-”
“This isn’t a great time-”
“Well then tell me when is,” Fred said. “I’d be glad to arrange a date.”
Why did he have to say these things?
“Are you really going to make me do this now?” you asked, anger coloring your tone. “It's opening day, and I’d really rather you not ruin it.”
“Ruin it?” he asked, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”
“You know what? Fine,” you snapped. “Come here after closing. We can talk then. I have customers to help, and I’m sure you do too.”
Fred’s eyebrows were scrunched together, and his mouth pulled into a frown. “I-” he paused when he looked at your face, and a defeated expression appeared on his face. “Okay.”
You stared at him as he left, and a part of you wondered if you’d hallucinated the whole thing. He seemed so earnest, like he actually wanted to talk to you. Like you were important, not some other girl he wanted to have on the side.
But you couldn’t think like that. He probably had some other ulterior motive.
You turned to the next customer in line. “Hi, how can I help you today?”
*
You had to give him credit, Fred was at your shop door at six pm sharp. You tried to ignore him for a while, but he eventually caught your eye as you wiped down the counters.
He gave you a big smile as you opened the door, and part of you wanted to melt. His smile was so bright and full of ardent hope. His freckles made him look younger, and it really added to the sweetness of his face.
“So,” Fred began after a moment. “Why didn’t you come see the shop? It’s been weeks.”
You sighed. “Look, Fred. I just don’t think us talking like this is appropriate.”
He scrunched his brows. “Appropriate? Why not?” his eyes widened. “I haven’t been impolite, have I? I swear I’ve never meant to say anything weird, I just like to have a laugh-”
“No! Nothing like that,” you said. “I’m not interested in the kind of relationship you want.” There you said it. You would not be someone’s side piece or a good fuck. You wanted something real.
You should have known he was too good to be true as soon as you hit him with those boxes.
“Oh,” Fred said, his face falling. “I’m so sorry that I assumed-” he paused, “I mean, yeah, sorry, you’re really busy so…yeah.” He forced a smile and stepped back. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see you.”
You ignored the disappointment in your chest as the bells rang, signifying Fred had left the shop.
*
The shop was still packed a few days later. You supposed word had spread about your low prices and fast wait times because potions were flying off the shelves. You’d begun to think about hiring someone else to help check people out while you brewed in the back.
Plus, people seemed to like the idea of a small A&E in the back, and you’d definitely need more help with that.
You’d just finished restocking some salves when he walked in. His brown eyes sparkled when they met yours, and that easy, earnest smile was back on his face. There was no hesitation or the anxiety you’d seen the other day. He was acting like nothing had happened.
You hesitatingly smiled when he reached the counter, but your jaw dropped when you noticed the bruise that had formed around his eye.
“Holy shit, Fred!” without thinking, you reached to touch his black eye. “What happened?”
He scoffed. “This is nothing. We just had a slight malfunction with one of our new products.”
“This doesn’t look very slight.”
“I’m fine. But,” he smirked. “I do appreciate your concern.”
“It’s professional concern,” you muttered as you searched for the anti-bruise cream behind the counter. “You’re not special.”
Fred’s jaw dropped dramatically. “You hurt me, dear lady.”
You snorted. “I think you can take it.”
Fred’s hand brushed yours as you handed him the cream and the anti-swelling potion. Your cheeks flushed, and he gave you a sweet smile as he left the shop.
You could feel yourself smiling throughout the rest of the day, and you cursed yourself every time.
He isn’t actually interested. He’s just a flirt.
*
The next time Fred came in was a week later, and this time he had a cut branching up his arm. Thankfully, it was nearly closing time and most of your customers had trickled out by then.
“What is this?” you fretted, grabbing his arm. “You hurt yourself again?”
“It was just a small incident with one of the pygmy puffs,” he chuckled. “They don’t like being told what to do.”
“Probably because they’re your orders,” you joked. “They can probably sense the stupidity from a mile away.”
“Hey!” he mock-yelled. “They don’t listen to George either.”
“My point still stands,” you said, tapping the cut with your wand. You held back a shiver as your thumb brushed his strong bicep. Was it just you, or did he have goosebumps?
“You don’t even know George.”
“He’s your brother, so if he’s anything like you, I’d be worried about his intelligence.”
Fred pouted. “They don’t listen to Angelina either, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders, so I think they just don’t listen to anyone.”
You paused your cleaning of his cut for a moment and tried to make your face as neutral as possible. “Who’s Angelina?” Could she be the girl he was kissing?
“Oh she’s George’s girlfriend,” he said, oblivious. You breathed a silent sigh of relief. “I don’t know how they’re still together, honestly she could do so much better, but she likes him, I suppose.”
You hummed, finally letting go of his arm to grab a potion. The cut was just barely a scratch now, but you wanted to make sure it didn’t get infected.
“Make sure you drink this, Fred, tonight and tomorrow morning. It’ll wash out any weird pygmy puff or whatever you call it infection from your body.”
“Yes ma’am!” he saluted and headed for the door. You couldn’t help but watch him make his way back from his shop, a spring in his step and a smile on his gorgeous face.
*
It kept happening. Fred came in with food poisoning, many more bruises, and even boils at one point. They were apparently from his inventions and experiments, but you were starting to get worried. Who gets injured this much?
The last straw was when he walked in with an injured leg. Your A&E hadn’t been opened yet, but you had hired a retired healer to run the counter so you could run in and out on occasion.
You were in the back, mixing a new potion when there was a loud commotion at the entrance. You had a sneaking suspicion of who it was but continued to stir the liquid until Martha poked her head into your office.
“It’s your boy,” she said. “And I think you’ll want to see this.”
That got you out of your seat immediately. Most of the time Fred’s injuries honestly seemed more like excuses to come see you, for what reason you didn’t know, but Martha’s tone made it seem much more serious.
“What’s wro-” fear shot through you as you saw the pain on Fred’s face, and the fact that he was leaning on….a direct copy of himself?
You weren’t sure whether to be more worried or confused. Had Fred somehow invented a cloning machine?
As you looked closer, you realized that they weren’t completely alike. The person next to Fred’s face was more rounded, and his nose was slightly bigger. His face was a bit uneven, and there was something off with his ear, but you couldn’t tell from far away.
Suddenly, it all clicked.
“You must be George!” you exclaimed. “Fred, you never told me that you had an identical twin!”
“Pleased to finally meet you,” George said, turning to Fred. “I can’t believe you never mentioned we were twins!” He glanced at you, mischief in his eyes. “It’s like you don’t care about me or something.”
“Shut up, George,” Fred said, turning your attention back to him. “I’m sorry to bother you again, darling-” your heart jumped, “-but I’m in quite a bit of pain and I was wondering if you could fix me up again?”
He is just a flirt. He is just a flirt. He is just a flirt.
“Yes, of course,” you scooped Fred’s other arm over your neck and helped George carry him into the patient room. “Martha! Can you hold down the fort for a bit?”
You didn’t wait to hear her affirmative before slowly and carefully lowering Fred down onto the patient bed. His face was contorted in pain, and you couldn’t help yourself from squeezing his shoulder in support once he was safely in bed.
“Drink this,” you said as you passed him a cup full of silver liquid. “It’ll make the pain go away for a bit.” Fred gulped it down, and a goofy smile filled his face when he finished.
“You’re so pretty,” he said lazily.
You could feel heat creeping up your face, but you ignored him.
“Sleep well.”
You cleared your throat and turned to George.
“Judging from the dirt and the Quidditch robes, I assume he fell off his broom?”
George nodded. “Yeah. He got distracted and a Bludger came flying toward him and…” he made a violent gesture, “Crash!”
You nodded. “Did he fall unconscious at any point, or hit his head?”
“He was a bit confused at first,” George said, hesitating. “He kept asking to come here though. My girlfriend kept trying to convince him to go to St. Mungos, but he wasn’t having it.” George smiled. “Are you two together? Because he kept asking specifically for you.”
Call the fire department, because your face was scorching. “I-” you stammered. “I thought he had a girlfriend or something?”
George snorted. “Fred? A girlfriend? He hasn’t dated anyone in a long time. I was honestly starting to wonder if he was gay and just afraid to tell me or something.”
“Really?” Your mind was spinning. Had you actually just hallucinated seeing Fred kiss someone outside of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes? “I thought saw him kiss a girl outside your shop a few months ago.” You sighed for a moment. “They looked really happy, so I didn’t want to intervene or anything.”
“That would be news to me,” he paused for a moment, lost in thought. “Wait, what did she look like?”
There was an insistent knock on the door.
“Sorry, we’re busy right now!” you called. “Ask the counter if you need anything.”
The door burst open, and your jaw dropped when the women came crashing in. She was much less put together than the last time you’d seen her, her hair flying everywhere and her cheeks flushed. But she had the same dark skin and hair, and the same commanding appearance that made you see why Fred liked her.
“I’m sorry,” you said politely. “But I’m currently busy with a patient. Please wait outside or go to St. Mungos if you-”
“She's fine,” George interrupted. “This is Angelina, my girlfriend.”
Suddenly, it all clicked into place. It wasn’t Fred you’d seen kissing a girl, it was George. Who was kissing his girlfriend. Like a normal person.
You were completely and utterly stupid.
“Angelina, this is that girl that Fred won’t shut up about.”
“Oh excellent!” She strolled over to you and stared at you seriously. “Please go out with him. Just to put him out of his misery. All I hear about anymore is him whining that some beautiful girl from the shops won’t date him and I need it to stop,” Her eyes were wide and solemn. “Please.”
George snorted. “Way to expose Freddie there.”
Angelina grinned back at him. “I think he needs it.”
“Well,” you clasped your hands, ignoring the redness in your cheeks. “I’m just going to do a quick skull exam just in case he hit his head, and then I’ll set his leg and let him rest.”
You couldn’t believe you’d messed it up this bad. Of course, you’d just seen Fred’s identical twin kissing his girlfriend. How hadn’t you thought of it before?
You quickly began your work, murmuring spells to yourself as you ensured everything was fine. You winced at the loud crack that sounded when Fred’s leg was set, but a final “Episkey,” finally healed the break.
You turned to face George and Angelina, who were watching with rapt attention. “Fred needs to sleep for an hour or two, just to make sure he doesn’t feel all the pain right away. I’d prefer to keep him here, just to make sure he stays asleep and pain-free, and I’ll also be able to check him over again once he wakes,” you said. “But I’ll do whatever you guys want.”
Angelina elbowed George before he could speak. “I think Fred will be perfectly content with staying here for a few hours.”
“Yup,” George said. “He’ll be fine.”
*
You’d been running in to check on Fred for what probably was close to every 5 minutes for the past hour and a half. Martha had given you multiple suspicious nods and knowing looks every time you stepped out of the back room, and she winked at you as she left at the end of her shift.
The store was closed and empty after another long and busy day, and the urge to go check on Fred was already pulling at you.
Just in case.
It seemed your intuition had been correct, as he began to stir the moment you opened the door. His nose twitched adorably, and there was a small smile on his face as his eyes opened, the sleep still present in his stare.
Without thinking, you stroked his hair, but Fred didn’t seem to mind. He actually leaned into your touch, the smile on his face growing. It was all so domestic, and you couldn’t stop your own smile from spreading across your face.
“Your smile is so pretty,” Fred mumbled. “You should do that more.”
Warmth filled your face. “I like yours too,” you sat on the edge of his bed. “Does anything still hurt?”
“Not when I’m looking at someone as beautiful as you.”
“You are shameless!” you giggled, smacking him on the side.
“Are you slapping a patient?” Fred teased. “I’m gonna have to report you to the Ministry.”
“You’re making me wonder if you have brain damage that I missed somewhere.” You said as you helped Fred sit up on the side of the bed. “Let me check again.”
Fred, much to your surprise, passed all of his exams with flying colors.
“First time that’s happened,” he joked.
“I guess that means you’re sane enough for me to do this.”
You leaned in and brought your lips against his. Fred gasped into your mouth and responded eagerly, his hand rising to cup your face and bring you closer. His mouth was soft and gentle, and you almost wanted to cry with how sweet he was. One of your arms wrapped around his neck, while your other hand grabbed his bicep.
Fred leaned back for a moment, chuckling. “I guess you’re finally free to touch my arms now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t pretend that you haven’t been thirsting over my arms the entire time we’ve known each other.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He laughed again as he leaned back in, taking control of the kiss this time. He was more passionate now, and you let out a gasp as his tongue brushed against yours. Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before, and you had to break the kiss because you couldn’t stop smiling.
After you leaned back, Fred just stared at you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. Sure, he was already handsome, but that smile made him look ten times better, and even younger than before. His freckles made his smile boyish, and there was childlike joy in his face as he looked at you.
“What made you change your mind?” Fred asked after a moment, his brows furrowing. “I thought you didn’t want a relationship.”
“So here’s the thing,” you laughed nervously. “I thought you didn’t want a relationship.”
Fred’s eyes widened. “I think you’re the one who needs to get your brain checked, love. Because I think I was being pretty obvious.”
“Hey! You’re supposed to be nice to me now.” You poked his chest. “But remember when I told you I’d come over to see your shop the day after we met?”
“Vividly.”
“Yeah, so I ended up seeing George and Angelina kissing in front of the door to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and since someone,” you stared at him pointedly, “didn’t tell me he had an identical twin, I assumed it was you.”
Fred was silent for a moment. “I have been coming to your shop nonstop for months, and you still thought I had a girlfriend the whole time?”
“Well now it seems stupid-”
He kissed you lightly before you could finish. “You can never make fun of me for being clueless again.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a way to upstage me.”
Fred wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You couldn’t stop the stupid smile that was on your face, and you were sure Fred had a similar one right next to you. He squeezed your shoulder, and you leaned your head against him. Warmth enveloped you, and you’d never been so comfortable before.
“Don’t worry, love,” Fred said. “You’re the only one I think about.”
*
#fred weasley x reader#writing#fanfic#fred weasley#harry potter#fluff#nancy's writing#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasely x yn#reader insert#nancy’s writing
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Making the ✨Lioncourt Gown✨ (Part 3/4)
It has been a little longer than I had hoped for since my last update but I've made some progress! The tape has finally arrived.
But for context - I am trying to make this:
into a (semi) historically accurate 1790s women's redingote and it's probably my favorite project so far. Anyways, here's what I did since my last update.
The tape arrived, but it was a little too light (it was basically white, I'd wanted it to be sort of beige/champagne) so I decided to dunk it into some coffee and hope for the best. It did work somewhat, stained it a pretty champagne color. It's still on the lighter side, but I'm okay with it. It may look white in some pictures though. Unfortunately, I completely forgot to take pictures of my dyeing process. Just imagine a tupperware full of instant coffee and some white tape in it haha. It's also thicker than I would have liked it to be but it was the thinnest one available, and I'm pretty glad it's thick-ish because with how difficult it is to sew it, I don't want to imagine my struggle with an even thinner tape.
I'd already prepped the color panels, so I applied the tape and used my sewing machine to sew them really close to the edges. A very time-consuming but weirdly therapeutic process. I started with the bodice and then went on to do the sleeves.
The sleeves seem to have black cuffs in the original picture, so I added some of that satin fabric to the sleeves.
Next, I attached the sleeves to the bodice. I can't help myself, I have to say it again: I hate sleeves. I hate sewing them, I especially hate attaching them, because they never turn out the way I want them to. This time again, I had to add little pleats to the tops because the armscye was too small for the sleeves, but since it's going to be covered by the collar anyways, I just pleated them. Redingote sleeves may have been pleated sometimes, it's hard to tell from the pictures of extant garments because of the huge collar, but it was a trend a bit earlier so it may have carried over to the redingotes.
I'm sorry about the cat fur in this picture I lost my lint roller I promise I'll find it.
When I was done with the sleeves, I attached the Lioncourt label to the inside of the bodice-
and went to work on the collar. I've put off making it as long as possible because I didn't really know how to attach it to the bodice, but I think I've figured out a way. I'd made the back neckline without any seam allowance, so I found an old scrap piece of black cotton bias tape and used that to hem the raw edge.
Then I draped some of my mockup fabric to figure out the correct shape of the collar and after some trial and error (cutting it out a total of three? or four times), I was finally happy with the shape and cut it out of the navy cotton twill.
I cut out two pieces of each so it would be sturdier, machine-stitched along the neckline part, turned it inside out, pressed it with an iron and applied the red tape. I seem to have forgotten to take a picture of the tape application process, but I then also applied the red tape to the entire bodice.
And here's the entire bodice so far (the collar is not attached yet so it looks a bit wonky):
On a side note, upon rewatching the scene in which Lestat wears this outfit, I noticed that the back also had the colored panels. However, I feel like it's colorful enough as it is, and frankly, I don't have enough satin and tape left to do it, so I'm just going to leave it. I like it better this way.
Anyways, I'm really excited to finish this up soon, but I also ran out of red tape so I'll have to find some time to go to the sewing store to get some more. And I'm not entirely sure if I'm going to do an actual button closure in the front or if I'm going to fake it. The satin is extremely prone to fraying and I'm scared to add button holes to it, even though I'd planned to add them over the horizontal stripes. I'm going to have to find some fabric scraps and see how the fabric behaves, and if it frays I'm going to have to fake it with some hooks on the inside of the bodice. I hope it's going to look good either way!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4|
#fashion history#historical fashion#iwtv#interview with the vampire#lestat de lioncourt#amc iwtv#sewing#redingote#georgian fashion#18th century#18th century fashion#18th century dress#1790s#1790s fashion#georgian#fashion
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no one asked nor requested this but. i had to. i promised a sickfic and i had to deliver because i am finally feeling vaguely ok enough (-。-;)
please enjoy this little fluffy moment between my boys that are definitely totally just friends and nothing else
whumpee: Simon
caretaker: Archie
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•
The catalyst had been Simon’s shift in the pediatric unit.
Contrary to what most people might think, Simon actually really loved kids. He found working with them to be very entertaining, and they tended to bring out a softer side of Simon.
It’s just that, well, he was assigned to the pediatric unit in January, the height of flu season.
Now, Simon prided himself on being a very healthy man despite some of his unhealthier habits. He may not sleep as often as he should, but he drank lots of water and ate well and got his flu shot every year.
So when he came home from his shift feeling a little more run-down than usual, he chalked it up to skipping a cup of coffee in the morning and moved on.
He made himself a hasty dinner (a leftover bowl of microwave mac ‘n cheese from the night before) and settled into the couch, content to nap the rest of the day away in preparation for his shift tomorrow, when suddenly his phone chimed.
It was a text from Archie.
[Hey Simon! Just checking to make sure we’re still on to go see that movie tonight? I just emailed you your ticket!]
Fuck.
Simon had completely forgotten about his plans with Archie. Plans that had been in place for nearly two weeks now. Plans that took place in thirty minutes. Flaking was out of the question. No, Simon couldn’t do that to Archie, not after he finally agreed to take a day off of patrol to do this with him.
Simon dragged a hand across his face and groaned lowly. He shot Archie a quick reply of confirmation and let his phone slip from his hand.
He could sleep when he was dead. He could power through a few more hours, surely.
He got up and reluctantly made his way to his bathroom to get ready. The reflection in the mirror looked.. off. His hair was mussed and his entire face was paler than he’d seen in a while, save for the red splotches high on his cheeks. The dark circles that were ever-present were somehow even darker and more pronounced. He looked terrible.
Simon blinked dazedly at the mirror before spurring into action. He doused his hair with water and combed out all the tangles. The wet hair on his neck made him shudder. Then, he quickly splashed his face with cold water to eke more color into it and changed out of his scrubs and into his shirt.
Once he deemed his appearance acceptable, he texted Archie that he was on his way and locked his door behind him.
••••
Simon arrived at the theater feeling even worse than he had before.
It was with great shame that he silently admitted to himself that he may have picked something up from work.
Now, to go along with the exhaustion, was a vicious chill that clamped around his body and had him pulling his knit sweater even tighter around himself. He also had a splitting headache that made it hard to think and he felt vaguely nauseous, but he elected to ignore that particular symptom.
Just a few more hours, Guevara. You can do this.
He straightened and put on a brave face before finding Archie standing outside the theater and walked right up to him.
“Simon! You made it!” Archie chirped, practically bouncing over to him. “God, I’m so excited. I’ve been wanting to see this movie for months!”
Simon smiled, and despite everything, it wasn’t forced. They were going to watch some new murder mystery movie-- not necessarily a movie Simon would have picked out himself, but seeing Archie so riled up made it worth it.
“Well what are we waiting for? Wouldn’t want to miss those trailers, would we?” Simon managed, leading the way for Archie. He walked in front, mostly so he could hide his sickly appearance from Archie until they were in the dimly lit theater.
Soon, they were situated in the fold-up seats with a big bucket of popcorn. Archie was practically vibrating with excitement, and as much as Simon wanted to match the energy, he could feel himself deteriorating.
He was regretting not washing his hands more often with those kids.
His entire body was hurting now. His headache was raging on, even when the lights shut off for the beginning of the movie. His eyelashes felt like they had weights on them.
Simon tried to stay awake, he really did. Archie had been looking forward to this little outing for so long, and the last thing Simon wanted to do was make his illness known and ruin the evening.
He tried various methods-- biting his tongue, digging nails into his palm, adjusting his position every five seconds-- but he found that his efforts were in vain.
Soon enough, his eyes drooped shut and his head lolled forward.
He hoped Archie would be too enthralled in the movie to notice.
••••
The first thing Simon registered when he woke up was someone shaking his shoulder, and the blurry silhouette of credits rolling on the movie screen in front of him.
“Simon? Hey, wake up. Are you okay?” Archie’s voice filtered in.
Simon groaned softly and scrunched his eyebrows together at the disturbance. He felt a hand settle on his forehead, then slide down to his cheek, and finally his neck. He couldn’t help but lean into the cool touch.
“Oh Simon.. You’re burning up,” Archie cooed, smoothing some hair away from Simon’s sweaty brow. “Why didn’t you say anything..?”
Simon’s head slumped forward as he groaned again. He was having trouble focusing on Archie’s voice, let alone what he was saying. He felt so groggy. Usually he could bounce back from a nap with no problem, but presently, every muscle in his body was screaming at him to curl up and go back to sleep.
He whined lowly. Not only did he feel so miserable, but he had knocked out for the entirety of the movie Archie waited months to see. He had to be the worst friend ever. He hoped Archie would forgive him.
“Hey, it's okay! We can rewatch it another day! Lets just get you home, okay? I’m going to carry you,” Archie declared, adjusting himself a bit.
Something about this didn’t compute. Simon knew he was taller than Archie. There was no way he would be able to carry him all the way to the parking structure where he parked. It couldn’t be possible.
“I have super-strength, silly,” Archie whispered with a soft laugh. “Carrying you feels like carrying a carton of milk to me.”
Oh right. Super-strength. Made sense.
Simon didn’t have too much time to dwell on it before his center of gravity suddenly tilted and he was pressed close to a warm body.
Instinctively, he curled up against it. He let his head fall on Archie’s shoulder and draped his arm around his neck. Archie was so warm and he felt so cold. It was heavenly to be so close to him.
“Someone’s clingy,” Archie mused, beginning the gentle walk to the car.
The process of getting to the car went by in a blur, but Simon was eventually settled in the passenger seat, his own sweater draped across his legs and Archie’s pulled up to his chin.
“Get some sleep. I’ll carry you into the apartment when we get there.”
Simon slept.
••••
The next time Simon woke up, he was laying on Archie’s couch with a thick Darth Vader print blanket. Despite this, he was somehow still shivering.
“Oh, you’re awake!” Archie smiled as he crouched next to Simon and brushed a knuckle over his brow. “Still warm. I wanted to wait until you woke up to give you medicine.”
Simon blinked. Something felt wrong. Archie shouldn’t be the one doing this. This was one of his rare days off where he let himself just be a person. He shouldn’t be stuck looking after a med student who failed to take the proper precautions during his residency.
Simon couldn’t allow it.
He sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His arms shook as he pushed himself up.
“No. I’m fine.. Archie.. you should be relaxing.. it’s.. your day off,” Simon managed, yanking the blanket off his legs, only to be met with a ferocious shiver that overtook his entire body.
Archie didn’t react. He only calmly guided Simon back to the couch and covered him with the blanket yet again. Simon couldn’t help but be grateful.
By the look on Archie’s face, Simon had a vague idea that in his previous feverish hazes, he had tried to escape as well.
“Respectfully, if anyone needs to relax here, it’s you. You can hardly even stand,” Archie said firmly, running a hand through Simon’s sweaty hair.
Simon shuddered at the touch and melted, letting his eyes fall closed once again to avoid eye contact. Damn it Archie. Stop making this harder than it needs to be.
“Simon.”
Archie’s voice was more intense than Simon had heard it in a long time, and he forced himself to meet his gaze.
“I truly can’t think of a better way to spend my day off. Let me take care of you. Please? You always do it for me,” He half-whispered, the intensity replaced with a quiet plea.
Simon didn’t respond. Instead, he pulled the blanket tighter and leaned into Archie's hand as it combed through his locks.
Fine. If that was how it was going to be, oh well.
Archie smiled at Simon’s silent acceptance, and leaned over to kiss the top of his head.
“Get some rest. I’m going to go warm up some soup and get you some ibuprofen.”
Simon sleepily watched him disappear into the kitchen, looking nearly as excited as he did at the start of the movie.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•
#whump#fever whump#whumpblr#whump fic#caretaker turned whumpee#sickfic#sickfic whump#simon and archie#simon had it too good for too long he needed an Ailment#archie absolutely loves taking care of simon i declare it to be true#i also declare that simon is unusually clingy and touchy when hes sick#pls ignore typos and stuff#i wrote and proofread this in like 2 hours
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HOLY CHAPTER JUMPSCARES, BAT FAI!!!
I really did not expect a chapter today? I know some people already started winter vacations, but I was expecting a Friday or a weekend.
Ouch, as much as I want Donnie home by yesterday, even I think it's better for Splinter to solve his problems before then.
As much as I love Cass, part of can never forgets that she's doing all this willingly, Draxum modified her memories of Donnie, but that's as far as it goes. Everything else is 100% her, and I must admit that a very petty part of me expects the truth to hit her like a heavy truck.
Fuck You, Draxum. You inconvenient goat.
FINALLY LEO WILL DO SOMETHING!!! Part of me keeps forgetting Leo's leg, which FAI, is a very dirty move, I know fight scenes are hard, but come on! Leo deserves to split some ass! Maybe when Donnie comes back he can make him a brace to help him out.
Raph With armor!!! I'd be so excited if it wasn't for the fact that I'm pissed!!!! Why Draxum's Side has all the good stuff!!! I know it's because of Donnie, but come on!!!! I've been making a fanfic in my head for a year where Leo puts together his own band of rebels with the help of Kitsuné, Alopex, Angel and Fugitoid, it's super self indulgent full of magical girls and video game shit, oh, and musical numbers. And that's what helped me the most Cope with this.
OH COMO ON!, I really thought Raph would see Donnie's mask! He was so close!
Wow, that's different, the fact that Cass uses Donnie's original mystical weapon is interesting, I had also forgotten that Draxum took Raph's tonfas! FAI please, at least let them have their Ninpo weapons!!!!
Wait, part 1? FAI, normally I restrict myself from demanding quick chapters, but what's the chance of a new chapter before the end of the year?
I thought about waiting until the weekend, but meh. It doesn't seem to make a difference in readership anymore and I was hoping for a pick-me-up.
I really didn't want to neuter Cass for this. She's a sympathetic character but she is doing things objectively for evil, without really much of a justification. That's how she is in canon and I didn't want to woobify her. She has a lot of rage in her. Living with Draxum has been good for her in some ways and bad for her in others.
I know it's been a year for us, but in-fic it's only been a little over two months since the Book 2 finale. I'm actually cheesing Leo's recovery like crazy-a human would take months to even start trying to walk again, realistically Leo should be rolling around in a wheelchair. It's honestly bordering on unbelievable that he can walk across Manhattan like this. (I mean, he shouldn't be, but it's Leo)
Raph's tonfa will be returned to him-like the crystal Donnie stole from him, Draxum is very pleased by how adept Raph is at using them, and he'd be stupid to not let his son's bigass bodyguard use the best equipment he has at his disposal to protect him. And he always intended for the turtles to have them. He's just holding them for now, until he trusts Raph a little more.
And yeah, I figured we might as well add in the leftover weapon. Just languishing there like the third starter Pokémon no one wanted. Even a Gale who's more comfortable with magic and his own magical abilities would still prefer his tech, and Draxum and Tigerclaw don't really have fighting styles that suit it. But Cass also prefers pole and staff weapons, so it just fit.
I didn't want to promise anything because I know how I am, but I'm hoping the next one won't take too long. It'll be a lot shorter and I have a good chunk of it done.
And then I have part of the chapter after that written, because...well, you'll fucking see.
#kind of wanted to get to chapter 11 by my birthday but then i was in a depression funk all of november#i still am but i'm also in denial#at the very least i live in minnesota and i know tim walz will personally fistfight trump at the border if it comes to it
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Why the thought of going to All In this year scares me
Hello, I am known in this space as Alice Cole and I am going to AEW All In next month. And this really scares me. I currently have two tickets to All In and this was because I planned to go with a friend of mine. The problem is that person is no longer a person who I want to spend time with. So it appears like I will be going to the show alone. That going alone scares me. Don't get me wrong, I've been to wrestling shows on my own before. But when I do it reminds me of a very bad experience that I had at a wrestling show last year. This is my post about that experience. And so the thought of going to a show as big as Wembley makes it all even worse. Especially as I should be really excited, Bryan Danielson will be there for goodness sake. But I can't get excited because I'm too worried of something bad happening again.
What's worse is that the man who I encountered before, he's probably fine. He's probably been to wrestling shows since. He's probably forgotten. He probably doesn't remember me. But can't forget him. And now, ever since, I find it harder to enjoy live wrestling shows because of the awful actions of someone else.
So that's why I am scared of going to All In again. I will probably still go (I promised to go to all in dressed as Lulu Pencil on my main blog) but it's hard. It's not nice to think about but I'm glad that I've partly got it out of my head by writing this.
Thank you for reading,
-Alice
#blog#aew#wrestling#wrasslin#aew dynamite#professional wrestling#aew collision#aew all in#bryan danielson#all in 2024#all in london#aew london#all elite wrestling
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Do You Love Me?
Sayaka has forgotten about Madoka's sleepover, but is Madoka mad at her?
"Man, that was rough."
Sayaka was walking back home after what appears to be a really bad witch hunt. Thankfully, her healing powers managed to heal her body up. Out of the five witches she fought, she only defeated two while the other three were handle by both Homura and Kyoko. It's only fair that she kept two grief seeds while the other three can be handed by the other girls. As Sayaka was coming back home, she sees a lone individual at the front entrance of the apartment building.
Wait, it can't be who it is.
Sayaka sped up her pace until she made a full stop in front of the individual who is sitting on the ground.
"Madoka?"
It was Madoka, who apparently was fast asleep on the ground. She also had her bag...
...Sayaka completely forgot about their sleepover.
"Madoka, wake up!" Sayaka was shaking Madoka, trying to wake her up. There was no response.
"She's out cold."
Madoka must've waited for Sayaka for way too long that she must've passed out sometime before midnight. Sayaka slowly picked up Madoka from the ground and carried her, bridal style. She enter the building and went to her room. During this, Sayaka constantly blames herself for leaving poor Madoka all alone outside. As she was in her bedroom, she did the long but painful process of changing her school uniform and into her pajamas, as well as Madokas. After what felt like a half hour, both girls were in their pajamas. Sayaka wasn't ashamed about changing Madoka's clothes, they done this so many times in the past. There were times where Sayaka had to help Madoka change her clothes due to some difficulty. They even bathe together from time to time. So Sayaka did not feel guilt about doing this.
What she is guilty was forgetting this day.
Both girls planned this sleepover for weeks now. Why is this very important? Because it's their first one in a very long time. Ever since Sayaka became a magical girl, she had less and less time to do anything, what with all of the witch hunting. As this was happening, Madoka felt completely left out without her best friend. Sayaka, sensing Madoka's loneliness, promised her that they will have a sleepover again, like good times. Madoka, after hearing the promise, was excited for that day to come.
What Sayaka didn't anticipate was that the date was very close by. And when that day happened, Sayaka was a little occupied with the witches. And... forgot about it.
Sayaka placed Madoka on her bed and she got in very slowly with her. Sayaka didn't brush her teeth, she'll only do it once Madoka wakes up, so they can do it together. She didn't want to leave Madoka alone again. Sayaka then hold Madoka to the side and placed her head on Madoka's shoulder. She whisper "I'm sorry" repeatedly still blaming herself.
Suddenly, Madoka began to stirred in her sleep, until she opened her eyes. She rubbed them and looked at the ceiling.
"Oh... guess I was dreaming," she looked to her side and saw something that made her jumped slightly.
"Good evening," Sayaka greeted her.
"Sayaka-chan? What are you doing in my bed?"
"Your bed? You sure you're still sleeping?"
Madoka sat up and looked at her surroundings. She was wiping her eyes, getting the sleep off of her until her vision became clear. She was in Sayaka's room, and she began to blush upon her realization.
"Guess it wasn't a dream."
Then she felt herself getting hugged to the side. "I'm so sorry for forgetting this important day."
"Sayaka-chan," Madoka holded Sayaka's arm which was warm. "I was stupid for waiting."
"No, I am taking the blame for this. I'm the idiot."
"No, if I knew you were fighting witches, I should've stayed home." Madoka said sadly.
"But... I did forget. I was looking for this day my whole life."
"But I don't want to intervene with your job."
They continue to blame each other until they realize that they keep going in circles. In order to change the subject, Sayaka got off the bed.
"Let's go to the bathroom."
"For what?"
"To brush out teeth. I was waiting for you to wake up."
Madoka then got out of the bed. "Okay, I need to pee anyway."
Sayaka looked at her dumbly. Did she seriously was going to bed with bad breath? she thought to herself.
***
After a quick trip to the bathroom, they both got back to bed and Sayaka began to cuddle Madoka.
"Honestly, I really miss this," Sayaka said.
"Miss what?" Madoka asked.
"This. Me holding you warmly. I feel like... I haven't done this in years."
"You have been busy lately." Madoka then stared at her.
"I know, and I'm very sorry. I promise we'll have a proper sleepover," Sayaka continued to stare at Madoka while saying this.
"Sayaka-chan," Madoka said and then grabbed Sayaka's left hand and place it on her face. It was very warm upon contact.
"Madoka... why'd you do that?" Sayaka was a bit confused.
"Sayaka-chan, do you like me?"
"Of course i like you."
"Do you think I'm... pretty?"
"Well, yes."
"Do you think I'm prettier then Mami-san?"
Sayaka thought for a moment. "Um... Mami-san's a close second, so yes."
"Am I... prettier then... Kyoko-chan?"
Sayaka's eyes were slightly widen. "Um... you're putting me on the spot. But... yes."
"Am I beautiful... then Homura-chan?"
"You are so beautiful, you're more beautiful with your hair down like that."
Madoka inched closer to Sayaka's face and whispered. "Do you... love me?"
Sayaka, looked at Madoka, stared at her, feeling a bit hazed and lightheaded. The only answer she could give her was the only answer that really matters; she kissed Madoka on the lips. Both girls continue kissing and began holding each other. Soon enough, both girls were starting to feel very tired, it makes sense, it's now two in the morning. Sayaka then reached out and turn off her lamp. She went back to cuddle Madoka who was now very comfortable on Sayaka's chest.
"This... may be the best night I ever had," Madoka said half asleep.
"Well, we'll make it better in our next sleepover," smiled Sayaka.
"Hey, Sayaka-chan?"
"Hmm?"
"Does this mean we're dating?"
"I wouldn't count this as a date. We can go tomorrow, if you want."
Madoka moved her face slightly. "I want that so much."
"Go to sleep now," Sayaka began to close her eyes as they were very heavy.
"Goodnight, Sayaka-chan," Madoka said as she drifted to sleep.
"Goodnight, Madoka," Sayaka then closed her eyes. I will always protect you.
The End
#fan fiction#fanfic#do you love me?#puella magi madoka magica#madoka magica#madoka kaname#sayaka miki#madosaya
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Mild Spoilers of Psycho-Pass Providence?
So I just came back from watching Psycho-Pass Providence.
And god know how excited I have been to see this and I think it was worth it. But where I live people don’t really know Psycho-Pass and most of them who have watched it have forgotten about it after season 1 or 2 (very sad coz I think it’s worth it) so the theatre had like 10-12 people including me and my two friends, who binged the whole season 1 and 2 for me in a week.
It was an emotional roller coaster with us questioning our morals with every scene and it had be on the edge of my seat throughout. Like Kougami’s return and everyone’s reaction to it, the call, the letter and the last scene !!! Omg the last scene had me a little teary coz I could feel how drained Akane was and that moment of being fed up of very thing and wanting to give everything up but you can’t coz you are in too deep OMG. Also my favourite character (and my husband, yes it was love at first scene in season 1) Ginoza did so good, like his anger towards Kougami and then him being so Tsun-Tsun (OMG so cute so cute him being tsundere is so freaking cute omg) while trying ask Kougami if his leg was okay(and omg when his hair came down HIS HAIR CAME DOWN I REPEAT THEY WERE OPEN AND WHAT A BEAUTY HE IS OMG, i am sorry i just love him too much).( and since the theatre was empty and I thought I would probably never see these people every again, I screamed out my love for him and claimed him mine in the theatre it was so embarrassing but it was like I lived my otaku dream so I am very happy).
I see that Shimotsuki has character development which fills the gap between the SS movies and season 3. It’s nice to see but honestly I still really don’t like her but thats me( anyone being rude to ginoza has been considered enemy by me)
I wished there would be one scene for us to see Dime and Ginoza together.
So anyone willing to fan girl Ginoza text me I am always available to simp my husband and also check out the Ginoza fan fiction I am writing I promise it ain’t half bad( it’s pinned in my profile)
:)))))))))))))))
#gino#ginoza nobuchika#nobuchika#ginoza#love#psycho-pass#ginozanobuchika#ginozaxoc#pp#mwpsb#kougami shinya#Kougami#Akane#akane tsunemori#shion karanomori#yayoi kunizuka#mika shimotsuki#sibyl system#psycho pass
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On watching National Treasure with a friend
My dear readers, it’s been too long!
Apologies for my tardiness, but the past few months have been incredibly hectic. My grandmother’s been sick, work has been extra chaotic, and my best friend was visiting from Türkiye.
We met in grad school, and two of our classmates were getting married (to each other) in April so she came from Istanbul for the wedding and stayed with me for a few weeks afterwards. It has been a whirlwind of lunches, day trips, and movies. I bring this to your attention now because on one of her first nights here, she requested to watch National Treasure.
I promise I didn’t foist it on her! She’s heard me talk about the blog so much that she wanted to see what the fuss was all about. She’d seen National Treasure once at some point in the past, but didn’t remember much about it. And I need very little provocation for a rewatch, so off we went.
My friend is incredibly expressive. She’s one of those people who wears her heart on her sleeve even when doing something as simple as watching a movie. One of my favorite things about hanging out with her is her reactions to things. She’ll always let you know if she’s happy or surprised or what have you. Me, my reactions tend to be a little more all or nothing. But I digress.
I loved watching National Treasure with her because she really engaged with it. You could tell by the amount she was laughing, reacting, and asking questions that she was really pulled into the story. Honestly, I had forgotten how funny the movie is. Like I know that it’s funny (both because of the excellent comic relief provided by Riley, and occasionally through moments of sheer camp) but I know the movie so well it’s been a long time since I’ve laughed out loud at the jokes. But my friend was laughing in all the right places. It was a delightful reminder of what it felt like to watch National Treasure for the first time, and to be charmed by its ridiculous adventure.
She also elicited a few disbelieving “no!”s, surprised “whaaat”s and other reactions that reminded me of how exciting the movie is. To me it feels like a familiar blanket at this point, but it was nice to be reminded of how much the movie turns. It never stays still for too long. The plot is always thickening in a really satisfying way.
I was also surprised by which pieces of American history she was familiar with. Like, she recognized the Watergate hotel on sight? No judgement here. I could probably not have pointed Türkiye out on a map before we became friends. It was just interesting to me which pieces of American pop-history had stuck with her.
I tried not to be too annoying during the watch. While I am at this point overflowing with fun tidbits of National Treasure knowledge, I tried to hold back from pausing to commentate unless I thought the fact in question would make the watch more fun.
This was also the first time I’d watched the movie all the way through with the subtitles on. I tend to thrown them on if I’m looking for a particular scene to take a screenshot of, but don’t want my audio on for whatever reason, but I had never watched the movie through like that. At this point, I know most of the dialogue by heart.
However, there are a few lines that took me a long time to make out, and the subtitles really drew my focus to these places. (Why didn’t I just turn the subtitles on a as a kid? Idk, it never occurred to me.) I was already wanted to do an article on misheard lines, and this watch pushed that closer to the top of my list.
After the movie, my friend wanted to watch Book of Secrets. We found some time for that a week or two later. Today will not be a day to yuck on anyone’s yums, so suffice it to say she enjoyed it, but not as much as the first one.
There isn’t really a conclusion here, except perhaps find a willing, uninitiated friend and watch your favorite movie with them. See what comes up for both of you.
Now that my friend is back home and my nana is moved into a new place, things will hopefully settle down for me a bit and I will get back to a somewhat regular positing schedule. No promises, but there’s still a lot I want to cover!
I hope things are well for you! Happy hunting.
Your Editor
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VOID
ch2
Neteyam x reader
6 min read
That night you fell asleep in your mauri alone your father still out on official business. Your little brain was full of so much questions.
‘i’m promised to one of the meanest na’vi on the island?’
‘why him?’
‘is he lying?’
All the questions tired out your little brain and before you knew it you were fast asleep on the woven hammock. Your peaceful sleep did not last for long as your father came striding in with another Na’vi in toe.
“My daughter is sleeping we will discuss this tomorrow!” fathers voice whispered yelled at the Na’vi next to him.
“We do not have time brother mother is dead, no youth to old enough to fill her position, she would want you to return with me! You must accompany me home in two days!
you looked over to the other na’vi who resembles your father in uncanny ways and your confusion thickens.
“My life is here! You can not ask me to take my daughter away from all she has known!”
“Your daughter is omaticaya as well. Your wife is dead! You have no reason to hold her and your people back.”
“I will not bring her into a potential war zone!”
“so she can suffer here as an outcast?!”
“She will be Tsahík here Tarsem! I can not jeopardize that for her!”
“Neteyam is still not promised I can talk to toruk Makto, please brother..”
The two men seemed to have forgotten you were ‘sleeping’ as the yelling escalated you pulled your body up. Looking between the two of them with confusion and fear wondering why they are arguing as if they are enemies.
“what’s happening?”
Your soft voice silenced the two men as they looked over at you. Your fathers eyes softened as the other na’vi’s eyes followed you closely.
“we will speak more tomorrow.”
Your fathers voice was stern as he spoke to the other male and this time he did not object. He only greeted you as you did back and left without a word.
“Are we leaving father?”
You couldn’t help the hope that sprang off your tone at the thought of leaving all your bully’s behind.
“I do not know my dear, I have not decided.”
“But I do not wish to stay, I do not wish to be promised to Ao’nung!”
Teras pricked your eyes at the thought of the dreadful boy. Your fathers eyes widened at your statement not aware you knew or of the fact he was one of the metkayinas that caused you dread.
“What about your friends, your spirit sister?”
Your father questions as his eyes searched your tiny face.
“Ean is my only friend, an ilu. I was never with the chiefs son always Ean. My spirit sister will know I am happy and be alright.”
“will you not miss them?”
“yes,,but daddy no one wants me here.”
Your sorrowful tone filled your fathers ears and he could not help but allow his ears to drop. He knew kids poked at you for your looks but he did not know it was this bad. For his little girl to feel utterly unwanted. What type of father was he being? Caring about status over his little girls happiness? pathetic.
“I will inform Tarsem we accept..It will not be easy ‘evi but we will do it.”
With that Antu kissed your forehead and tucked you in your hammock for bed. You couldn’t help but buzz with excitement. Will the place your father is from be more accepting than here? You could jump for joy at the possibility of potential friends.
————————-
The next two days went by in a blink of an eye, you were quick to spring out of bed and even woke your father these past mornings.
The last two days on the island were very easy you had no lessons and your only job was to ‘say goodbye to your animal friends’, of course you did not object. You could not completely avoid the negative comments about you but you did not care, you would never see these faces again. The only thing that plagued your tiny mind was not being able to say goodbye to your spirit sister.
It had been dragging you down. How would you tell her that you were gone? That’s what got you here calling out to the last person on pandora that you wanted to talk too.
“Ao’nung!”
His ears perked up as he turned around to face you. He almost looked excited? Was this the same boy that pushed you down in the sand not even four days ago?
“I am leaving tomorrow, I will not be returning to the Metkayina tribe, I have a favor to ask.”
His expression seemed to fall at this information but you did not understand why. You would not let your confusion about his reaction get in the way of your goal. Eywa this boy was confusing.
“Oh, I did not know this…what do you want?”
“Please tell my spirit sister I have left, tell her I am happy and living in the forest. I do not want her to worry about my disappearance.”
He only grunted as a response and began to walk away. Eywa you were so glad you did not have to deal with his attitude for the rest of your life. On the contrary you were sad to leave Ean, the ilu sulked when you sent him the signs that today would be your last ride with him, and you couldn’t help but push back tears. In 3 pouches you had collected possibly hundreds of seashells for your travels the past 2 days with Ean, you did not like the kids of this tribe but you did not want to forget the beauty of the ocean or the friendship you had with the ilu.
“Y/n come back to the mauri, We leave when the sun rises we must finish packing!”
The sound of your dads booming voice knocked you out of your gloomy thoughts and you began to jog over to the tall na’vi.
“Ok, I am coming!”
—————————————
The next morning came in a blink of an eye and you were standing in front of your fathers ikran as he bid his farewells to the olo’ekytan. To your surprise Ronal began to make her way towards you.
“Not even a goodbye for your teacher?”
Her smooth voice met your ears but she was not angry or demanding.
“I am sorry, goodbye.”
You say as you awkwardly wave not know if she would accept a hug. The tsahík only laughed as she bent over and brung your body into hers.
“It pains me to see such a gifted student go, be strong y/n.”
You only gave a determined nob and that seemed to satisfy the strong willed woman. She handed you something folded up with seashells that hanged along some of the woven blanket? You did not know. Before you could question her she was already proudly walking over to her mate.
You did not expect the sudden feeling of sadness to creep up on you as you watched her walk away for the last time. Who knew you would miss the strict, bossy woman who would bark orders at you.
Tarsem helped you up into the front of your fathers Ikran and secured your things at the back of his and than you took off into the wind. You could not help but scream as the creature shot up into the sky with a loud screech. The wind seemed to blind all your senses as it rushed passes you forcing your hair that was not braided in the top to wip back.
You had not even noticed you had kept your eyes shut solid until the ikran leveled and you finally peeled them open. The sight before you was breathtaking as the sun glittered onto the ocean. You even saw a little ilu jumping from the water grabbing your attention. It was Ean. Your little friend was saying his final goodbye and suddenly you could not keep the tears from falling.
Your father shared your sorrowful look as he glanced back at the village. Oh how you hated the village, but among the rejection you still had a love for the ocean.
“Do not worry Anut, she would have approved of your departure.”
Tarsems voice cut in as you glanced up at your father who’s face was twisted with mixed feelings. You knew how much your mother meant to him, he told stories all the time, and you had seen her in the spirit tree but you had no memories with her, no connection. All you could do was hug your father free arm as he rode his ikran over the endless ocean.
——————
“‘Evi wake up”
With a shake your father stirred you from your sleep. You squinted at the half eclipsed sun as you took in your surrounding. The sight that met your eyes was no longer the ocean but trees covering vast amounts of land. It looked as if it was an ocean of green. The sight was breathtaking as small flying creature  breached the tops of the forest and took off into the sky.  With sparkling eyes you look to your father in awe. He flashed a fanged smile at you as he directed his ikran into the trees. Your body jerked as the animal landed on a branch in front of Tarsem who was getting off his ikran. Looking around you were confused on why you would stop here when there was no village in sight.
“We will rest in the trees tonight little one, eclipse is near it’s to dangerous to travel.”
Almost as is he could read your mind your uncle answered your question. You only nodded as you watched him hang up two hammocks made out of green between the trees.
“What if we fall?” you asked as you looked down from the thick branch that seemed to hold you in the sky itself. All you got in reply was a deep chuckle from the man in front of you and couldn’t help but feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
“Do not tease her brother.” Your fathers stern voice was heard behind you as he made his way next to you, sitting down and letting his legs dangle off the branch. You followed his steps caution in your every move as you sat your body next to his.
“Do not worry ‘evi I will not let you fall and if a na’vi does the plants below us will break the fall. You’ll only get a few scratches.”
Your father explained as he pointed to big lilly pad like plants. You did not doubt his word those half lilly pad leafs were huge even from all the way up here.
As elipse neared your father went to collect water and left you with his little brother. You did not know your uncle well but he was quick to break down your walls by telling you stories of the forest, and listening to your stories of the reef. By the time your father got back you were in his hammock with him snacking on fruit as you listened to the story of his song cord.
“Looks like you guys are getting along.” Your father comments as he throws a sack filled with water at Tarsem.
“I want to sleep with Tarsem tonight!”
Your father faked an offended face as he claimed that your uncle was ‘taking you away from him.’ You only laughed as you knew your dad would not go against your wishes. After a few dried fish the three of you settled down and drifted off to sleep in the forest of pandora.
—————————-
@ultimatebluff
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A New Beginning #14: Adoration
Masterlist | AO3
Content: Vamprie whumpee, recovery, multiple caretakers, human caretaker, PTSD/trauma, meltdown/panic attack, [implied] self harm (for the sake of food), blood (once again, for the sake of food), fear of being alone.
I am exhausted and haven't actually proof read this or anything, but i promised myself i'd post something before i fell asleep LOL.
-
It was only a few days after the gathering they’d had that Carlos heard from his new friend again. He hadn’t really thought much of it at first - Ryker was often getting calls from his employees and other important people that Carlos had never met, so it came as a surprise when the human called him into the living room and held out the phone to him with a polite smile.
“Hey, man,” he greeted, already beginning to get out of his seat to make room for the vampire to sit down instead. “Charlie’s on the phone. Said he wanted to see how you were going. Would you like to sit down and talk to him while I get your breakfast ready?”
Did he? What kind of question was that?
“Yes please!” he chirped, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he took the phone from his human’s hand and sat down on the couch Ryker had just been sitting in. It was still warm, and he found himself snuggling further into the seat as he greeted the other human on the phone. “Good morning!”
“Good morning to you, too,” Charlie spoke warmly. He still sounded a little groggy, like he hadn’t been awake for long, but Carlos could still hear the faint smile on his face regardless. “You’re sounding rather chipper. How’ve you been?”
The vampire brought his knees to his chest and began to fiddle with the fabric of his pyjama bottoms as he talked. “I have been well, I think! I’m a little restless today, but Ryker said I just need some mental stimulation. So, he’s gonna set up some stuff for us to do later on.” Then he jumped all of a sudden, feeling as if he’d already forgotten his own manners. “Uhm- and how are you, Charlie?”
“I’m okay, thank you for asking.” The tone in Charlie’s voice hadn’t shifted, instead remaining light and friendly, despite the fact that he clearly wasn’t all that awake just yet. “I have work today, unfortunately, hence why I’m awake so early. Though, I was actually thinking about dropping by for an hour afterwards, if that’s okay with you?”
Carlos found himself mildly confused. Why was he asking for permission from him to come and see Ryker and Adam? Were they even going to be around today? He thought he recalled the two of them informing him that they wouldn’t be around all that much this week. Had they not told Charlie?
“Uhm…” The vampire didn’t even really know how to answer. “Y-yes?”
Thankfully for him, Charlie seemed to catch on to his confusion pretty quickly. “You sound a little unsure? What’s on your mind?”
“...I guess I don’t really understand why you’re asking for my permission to come visit Adam and Ryker?”
He blinked cluelessly at the sound of Charlie’s light laugh. He didn’t think he’d said anything funny. Did Charlie not realise he was being serious? Though his cheeks flushed red at the embarrassment of being laughed at, he chose not to say anything else.
“You sweet thing. I meant I wanted to come see you. They’re both out this afternoon anyway, aren’t they? I think Ryker said their work schedules are pretty similar this week.”
Oh. It made sense now. However… it also didn’t.
“You- you want to see me?” the vampire tilted his head. His fingers clutched the phone a little tighter as his heartbeat picked up a bit. This was so exciting. “Really? I- I’m not very good at talking to other people. People, uhm… they scare me.”
“They scare me, too, buddy. You’re all good. Look, we can give it a miss today if you want? I’m happy to wait until a time where you’re feeling more comfy or one of the guys is around. I totally get it.”
Carlos could have sworn he felt his heart stop for a moment.
“No!” he practically cried, leaning forward in his seat as if it could possibly make his point any clearer. He had a death grip on the phone pressed to his ear while his other shaking hand dug Its nails into the leather that made up the couch. “N-no, please, I’ve only ever had two friends in my life. I love them so- so much b-but I don’t wanna be alone anymore. I want friends s-so much. Please come over? Please? I can make some human food for you if you’d like! I swear, I’ll do whatever you want!”
He knew he was being downright pathetic. He knew there was a good chance he was actively scaring his potential new friend away with his intensity, and yet he would have thrown himself onto his knees and begged like that if he were in front of him in that moment.
Having heard his frantic voice, Ryker was by his side in an instant; resting a hand on his knee while the other arm held a paper towel to the cut on his arm. He’d clearly been in the middle of draining Carlos’ morning breakfast into a cup, and that only made Carlos feel all the worse.
What is wrong with me? Why am I like this? Those same two questions repeated in his head over and over again.
“Carlos, you’re all good, man. It was just a suggestion,” Charlie was quick to reassure him. Nonetheless, Carlos could still feel the weight of his own panic creeping up on him, threatening to slowly push him into suffocation as if something was holding him against the wall by his throat. “It’s okay. I’ll come visit you this afternoon, then, yeah? Just like I suggested before. No one’s leaving y’alone.”
“I’m so-orry,” the vampire quietly hiccupped into his sleeve. “I’m sorry… I’m…” Behaving like a fucking toddler? Yeah, you are.
He silently scowled at the voice in his head. It was so loud and so mean. Why couldn’t it just be nice to him? Why did it have to point out all his flaws and mock him as if he didn’t already know they were there? He was trying so hard to like himself just that little bit more. It was so hard…
Ryker squeezed his leg, seemingly trying to draw his attention away from whatever was bothering him. The vampire immediately glanced down at him distractedly, still holding onto the phone so tight his hands were shaking.
“Sir?” he quietly whimpered. “I’m… I need… need…” He didn’t know what he needed. Didn’t know how to put how he was feeling into words because he’d never had to think about it before. Feelings didn’t matter. Hell, he hardly mattered.
He guessed it was different now, wasn’t it?
“I- I di’nt mean t’pressure you,” the vampire whispered in between more hiccups. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I told you I can’t speak to people…”
He was so grateful that Charlie had stayed on the line with him all throughout his little meltdown. Hearing his voice, knowing that he was still there only caused him to cry even more.
“No, no, you’re doing good, man. I’ve been there before, yeah? I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve struggled to find the right words or lost friends because I’ve said insensitive things without realising. Though, I’ve learnt that the more you do it, the easier it gets. So, what if we practiced together this afternoon?”
“You- you still wanna come over?” The vampire nearly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He glanced down at Ryker who was still kneeling by his legs, and the human gave him a comforting smile that silently assured him it was real. “You’ll be my friend?”
There was another laugh. “Any friend of Adam and Ryker’s is a friend of mine. Look, I gotta finish my coffee and get ready for work but I’ll message Ryker with a time and you can expect to see me then, alright?”
Carlos sheepishly wiped at his wet eyes, accidentally pricking his bottom lip with his fang as he bit it. “You mean it? You’ll really come?”
“Yeah, man. I promise. See you then?”
“O-okay.” Carlos nodded, somewhat more confidently this time. “Yeah. I will- uhm, see you then?”
Ryker grinned the moment Carlos had hung up the phone. He took the phone from him and placed it down on the floor before taking his hand into both his own to squeeze it reassuringly.
“You did it!” he exclaimed, the loud sound of his excited voice causing Carlos to jump a little. “I’m so proud of you for persisting!”
“Tha-ank you?” He couldn’t tell if the human was being sarcastic or not. “I… I embarrassed myself, didn’t I, sir? I didn’t mean to…”
Reaching up, Ryker affectionately ruffled the vampire’s growing hair with a smile. “Not at all. You’re doing well. I know Charlie very well - he’s one of my oldest friends, and there’s no one I’d trust more with someone I love than him.”
That caused Carlos to look up from his lap. The wording was not lost on him, however clueless he usually found himself being. A small smile curved on his lips despite the wetness in his eyes, and he leaned forward to press his forehead to Ryker’s for just a moment; savouring the closeness between them before Ryker had to leave again. It was the only way he knew how to express his gratitude for him in that moment. Words were hard and he just did not have the strength to speak them anymore.
He could only hope that Ryker understood the meaning behind his simple gesture. Otherwise, he’d be sure to find the words for it later.
He needed Ryker to know how much he loved him, too.
-
Carlos spent the entire day watching the clock on the wall and cleaning vigorously before his friend arrived. He’d made what Ryker had said earlier in the morning were his favourite sweets - cookies, cupcakes and a few store bought foods as well. Adam was even kind enough to do his makeup again and help him pick out an outfit for what must have been his very first visit from a friend ever. His friend, no less. Someone who was here for him, not his owners or the people around him. He wanted everything to be perfect. Wanted to prove that he could be a good friend to people, not just some dumb pet for them to take their anger out on.
He could do this. He could do this. He could do this.
When Charlie finally arrived at the designated time - right on time, might Carlos add - he had to let himself in, given the sun was looming right outside, threatening to attack the vampire if he so much as stepped an inch into the light.
However, the second he had closed the front door, Carlos was already by Its side with his plate of cupcakes in his hand and a warm, excited smile on his face. “Thank you so much for coming,” he chirped as he held out said plate towards the human. “I made- uhm, your favourite cupcakes! Ryker gave me the recipe and helped me find all the ingredients for it. I hope you like them!”
“He did, did he?” the human grinned as it slipped off Its shoes and placed Its bag down by the shoe rack. It leaned over to examine them before carefully taking one off the plate to bite into. “Boy knows me so well. These are excellent, Carlos.”
Carlos couldn’t help but feel amused at the way he spoke with his mouth stuffed with food. It reminded him so much of Adam.
“Thank you! I worked very hard on them. Uhm, would you like to sit?” he asked, motioning to the living room where all the furniture was. “It’s just you and me this time, so… so you don’t have to sit on the floor. If- if you don’t want to, of course. Sir- I mean, Ryker said you might prefer the floor over the couch? I do sometimes, too.”
The human shrugged. “The floor feels less formal, but I’m happy wherever. You’re looking wonderful today, might I add. Did Adam do your makeup for you?”
“He did!” Carlos nodded, desperately trying to ignore the furious blush on his face as he plonked himself down on the couch and pulled his knees up to his chest for Charlie to sit down as well. As he did so, the human took another cupcake off the plate and began to eat that one, too. He likes them, Carlos realised with a giddy smile. “He purchased a practice makeup kit for me to use when he’s not around, but I’m not very good at it yet. I aim to get better, though.”
“It’s a fun thing to learn. Can’t say I’m all that into it myself, but I see what It’s done for Adam. He loves it.”
It got Carlos wondering. “Well, what sort of things are you into, then? You said we could, uhm… pr-practice talking? So… is that a good start? You didn’t tell me all that much about yourself at the gathering…”
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t, did I?” Charlie offered him another smile as he shifted himself into the same position Carlos was in, but on the opposite side of the couch so they were facing each other. “Like I said, I suck at talking to people, too. I’m awkward and blunt and suck at reading body language and social cues. A lot of people don’t really like that. So… I tend to keep my distance. Keeps me safer, y’know?”
Yes. Carlos knew exactly what it was talking about.
“So… It’s not a vampire thing?” he asked quietly with a small tilt to his head. “That happens to me a lot, but I always thought I was just not smart enough to understand them, or- or that’s just how they treated vampires. Humans treat other humans that way as well?”
He was saddened to see the human nod. “Unfortunately so.”
“That’s so sad.”
Charlie shrugged. “I guess so. I have my little group of people who love and understand me regardless, so I don’t concern myself all that much with what the rest of the world thinks of me.”
Carlos admired that. He cared far too much about what everyone else, particularly humans, thought of him. It was ingrained into his brain that his purpose was to please them, therefore he had to care, right? If there was one thing all the humans he’d lived with agreed on, it was that.
“—but hey, fuck the rest of the world, right? Let’s talk about me.”
It surprised the vampire to hear himself laugh at the human’s rather vulgar language.
“Yes!” he agreed, and the both of them eagerly leaned forward with their arms still tucked in their laps as if they were two gossiping school children. “Tell me everything there is to know.”
-
It turns out, the two had a lot more in common with each other than they thought. Charlie happened to be right into his digital art - something Carlos had no idea even existed until then - along with cooking and movies. He also mentioned that he loved the dark - that there was something calming and peaceful about it in a way that the day just couldn’t bring. He said that he often went on night walks along the beach when he couldn’t sleep, or relaxed under the stars in his backyard with a picnic blanket beneath him.
It all sounded infatuatingly wonderful to Carlos. He didn’t feel safe enough to go outside anymore. Not without another person there to keep him company, but the idea of it made him more than a little giddy. He hoped there would come a time where he could enjoy the stars and the dark again, just like he had as a child.
The human also came to mention that he was a collector of sorts, too. He had a collection of rocks and leaves he found fascinating sitting on his coffee table for people to admire when they came over, along with the more “common” stuff, like Pokemon cards and little figurines. He’d apparently been collecting for years - ever since he was a child, and had plenty to show for it.
Within just a few hours, Carlos had grown to adore this human so much it hurt. It was living, breathing proof that there were other people just like Carlos. That he wasn’t alone, even if many people had tried to convince him otherwise.
—and as the human prepared to leave again rather late in the afternoon, Carlos hugged him tighter than he ever thought he’d be able to grip someone, fingers digging into his back and his head buried against Charlie’s shoulder. He was grateful that it didn’t seem to mind, and instead held him just as tight.
“Please come back sometime,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut out of sheer desperation. “Please. You’re… you’re like me. I like you so much!”
There was, once again, a laugh as Charlie stood with him in the doorway. He could hear and feel Adam and Ryker’s presence behind him, presumably moving things around and giving the place a quick clean after their day at work, but he didn’t care. Not right now.
“I like you so much, too! I’ll be back very soon, man. Promise.”
Carlos couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he hid it against the human's shoulder even more.
It was official.
After ninety years of living on this god forsaken earth, Carlos Emrick had finally made a friend outside of Ryker and Adam.
He cried out of pure joy as he told his humans about his day that evening. It was easily on his list of best days ever, right underneath the day he met Ryker and the night he finally got to move in with him.
-
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