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anothertimdrakestan · 2 years ago

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Pinky Promise - Damian Wayne x Reader !Soulmate AU

~ where your birthmark is where you'll first touch your soulmate ~

A pinky finger is an odd place to have a soulmate mark. Most people had full hands, a set of lips marked on their cheek, or a hand print on their hip. Yet yours was just the length of your left hand pinky finger.

No matter, you'd had the habit of locking pinky's with people since you were born. Call it natural habit or a desperation to link fingers with your soulmate, it was your thing.

So when you started your internship at the Bludhaven Police Department Sheriff's office and got finger printed you didn't think anything of it when officer Grayson paused on your last finger.

"This your soulmate mark?" he gestured to your pinky, which was darker than the rest of your skin colour.

"Funny right! Just the pinky. Most people have normal ones! Where's yours? Wait. Is it on your lips?" you glanced up at the officer with a grin as he flushed.

"We all meet our soulmates in strange ways." he mumbled with a smile.

"Truth or dare? Or Suck and Blow? It had to be a party game right?" you leaned in as Officer Grayson pressed your pinky into ink.

"It was more of a greeting, she's not from around here so it was her way of saying hello." he stated, eyes twinkling with a familiar joy. God you wanted that. He continued, "I'll tell you, I know a kid with a pinky mark too. Cant remember which hand though. I'll bring him in soon, though neither of you seem like each other's type." you noticed his brows furrowed thinking about the "kid" he mentioned.

"Bring him in like, a bad guy? Not sure that's my type! I'm just here to learn about forensics!" you giggled. The officer just shook his head and told you to go start reviewing the steps to finger print collection and storage. Sounded super fun and interesting (not).

Turns out there's a lot to learn about crime forensics. By the end of the day you had a backpack full of materials to study on your transit ride back to Gotham. Hiking up fire escapes to the top of your apartment building, you decided to study via the lights from the top of your building. Nothing like the haze of Gotham to comfort you through pages of reading.

"Glad to see you're back." A familiar voice chided from your side.

"C'mon, you're excited to see me!" you grinned into the darkness, willing the shadowy figure to come forward. Like usual, he did.

"Good to see you, Robin." you waved with a teasing smile as he visibly shook his head.

"Can't say the same Y/N. I had more peaceful nights when you weren't here. What's got you up late this time?" he grumbled, keeping his distance as you held up your bunches of papers exclaiming "studying! Always studying."

"And you can't do that from the safety of your apartment?" he questioned. You shook your head no in response. "Need I remind you of the multiple times I've had to throw people off this balcony for you?" he yawned, gesturing to the ledge of the rooftop.

"Aren't I so lucky you're protecting me!" you teased. He wasn't wrong, sketchy people had on more than one occasion lurked on top the Gotham's tallest buildings, but you enjoyed the view and trusted Robin far too much to change your place of comfort.

"Protecting Gotham." he retorted, moving towards the rooftop to jump towards a night full of crime fighting. You never tried to stop him from leaving, you still thought it was insane that he even paused to talk to you, so you just waved and watched as he launched into darkness. Curling back up with your notes you appreciated the blanket of safety his presence had placed on you.

"Damian I'm telling you she has the mark on her pinky!" Dick screeched, chasing after Damian who was not willing to hear anything he had to say. "What do I care Grayson? I don't want a soulmate, I'm busy," he retorted, cascading through the batcave to get away from Dick's prying eyes.

"Just let me see! I wanna know!" Dick cried but Damian had already slammed his door closed.

"Word on the street is Dames found a rooftop girl. You didn't hear it from me though." Tim called from the adjacent room. The two were usually stuck on patrol together so it did make sense. But Dick still couldn't believe it.

"Which goddamn rooftop." Dick's voice was a low hum, the determination dripping from his tongue. He had a theory.

"Morning Officer Grayson!" you called down the hallways of the BPD office. You'd finally gotten a full night of sleep last night because you had finished studying a couple days ago, free from the piles of work. Your morning glee quickly dissipated when you were promptly handed a stack of papers and binders.

"You're doing great work, so we're moving you up to sample analysis. Lots of reading for ya!" the officer sounded congratulatory as he handed you the piles of paperwork. You couldn't deny, this was what you wanted, but it was definitely more work than you could do in one day. Needless to say, you hoped you'd get to see a familiar bird brain that night.

Cozying up on the rooftop you were so deep into the inner-workings of a microscope you hardly noticed the shadowy figure that had appeared across from you.

"Studying again are we?" Robin's snarky voice made you jump, eyes snapping to his face. "Tons of work! Calls for an all nighter, what about you?" you simply replied.

"Patrol." His response was curt but you wanted more this time.

"What after? Tell me- what does a hero do in his free time?" you leaned in with a teasing smile. To your surprise Robin leaned back against the railing and responded "I like to draw." Giving you more of a key into him than you'd ever gotten.

"I'm a terrible artist but I bet you're amazing! Keen eyes and steady hands always make for good art. You should show me sometime! If you want!" you rambled with a grin. You figured it would be an automatic no, but the corner of his mouth twitched up, almost like a smile as he said, "maybe I will." Something blossomed in your chest.

"Well, you're always welcome here! Like, all night. It's brutal." you joked, gesturing at the piles of papers in your lap.

"I may just take you up on that, my brother has been overwhelmingly obnoxious at home. Have a good night." Robin muttered as he left over the rooftop railing once again. You smiled to yourself, he likes to draw and he has a brother? Fascinating.

You were practically asleep in your notes when you felt something bump into your chest. A surprisingly elegant paper airplane. From the shadows you could see Robin sitting across from you, back against the rooftop railing, a notepad and pencil in his arms as he starred up at you.

"What? You were practically snoring." he said matter-of-factly.

"For the record, I do not snore. Also, how'd you make this? It's beautiful!" you exclaimed, delicately holding up the paper airplane to appreciate the little curves of the thick paper.

"I was into origami for a while. It's almost mathematical, very satisfying." his reply was short again, seemingly focused on the sketching at hand. So you fell into silence with him, focusing up on your note taking.

You didn't exactly notice the sun starting to rise. It was hard to see in Gotham, smog and all, but the inkling of light from the hazy sky gave you a clearer picture of the boy wonder then you'd ever gotten.

It felt strange but he was gorgeous. Silky black hair tousled from running his hands through it in between pencil scratches, when he was focused he bit the inside of his cheek, eyebrows knit into determination. You appreciated the reds and yellows of his costume, noting the various weapons hitched across his body. But the rest was hidden. Whether behind his domino mask, his suit, or his silence.

"It's rude to stare at a working artist" he grumbled, chin tilting up to show that his eyes were meeting yours.

"You've never stayed this long." you replied breathlessly. Squirming in your chair, knowing that you couldn't get any closer without him running off.

"Your presence isn't, unbearable, for what it's worth." his voice was so low but you could hear the sincerity in his voice. "Same to you." you whispered back, letting your tired eyes drift back to your notes which were pretty much done. It was an all nighter after all.

It felt like a few minutes but the billowing light from the rising sun told you it had been longer, and your head was severely drooping into your lap. "Y/n, you need sleep. Go to bed," his voice was warm but stern, enough to get you to lazily collect your papers and stand up with a yawn.

"Well! Thanks for hanging with me!" deliriously you held out your fist, Robin tilted his head to the side in confusion. You chuckled, "it's a fist bump dumbass." And to your surprise he closed the distance between the two of you, and slowly touched his knuckled to yours. His gloves were cold but you were focused on the fact that you were just inches from the boy wonder.

But a few seconds was all you got to realize how much taller he was than you before he melted back into the shadows. You stood stunned for a moment before stumbling back to your apartment, desperate for sleep.

"You look like hell kid" Officer Grayson greeted you with a questioning look as you waved him off of you. "Your fault for giving me hours of reading buddy." He grinned glancing down at the now filled notebook you'd brought to work. "You actually look dead kid, on lunch break we'll grab coffee," you rolled your eyes at his promise but knew you needed the caffeine.

Getting to know Officer Grayson, Dick, was surprisingly rewarding. He had years of experience and hundreds of stories that had you folded over from laughter. But there was something you were begging to learn more about, someone rather.

"Have you worked with Robin much?" your question broke the calm silence. Dick's eyes shone with some sort of pride, "I have, yeah. Good kid. Cold as hell but a damn good hero." and you nodded in reply, although cold wasn't exactly the way you'd describe Robin.

Dick's eyes lit up at something behind you, he shot up out of his cafe chair and said "look what the cat dragged! Glad to see you lil bro!" A loud enough exclamation that you turned around and locked eyes with a boy with jet black hair and piercing green eyes. The boy stood stunned at the door, starring at you and Dick before slowly approaching, eyes trained to yours before Dick pulled him into a hug. Immediately, he pushed himself out of Dick's embrace with a scowl, you couldn't help but grin at the reaction.

"Y/N meet Damian, Dames this is Y/N she's an intern at the office! Damian has classes over here so I figured we'd catch him during our break!" Dick babbled as he forcefully guided Damian into the seat next to him. Damian looked almost stunned, eyes flicking between you and his brother.

You broke Dick's rambling saying "Hi! You're a student too?" and he nodded slowly, glancing between you and Dick. "Studying what?" you tried to guide the conversation but he interrupted:

"You live in the area?"

"Nope, Gotham."

"Oh, me too." was all Damian muttered before his name was called, and he shot up, mumbling a "nice to meet you" and giving Dick another glare. Dick just grinned in response and the two of you soon headed back to the office.

"You had no right to do that!" Damian's roar was echoing in the cave that night. He'd just finished throwing almost everything on his person at Dick who was still uncontrollably laughing.

"C'mon Dames, were you just gonna visit your soulmate every once and a while on a rooftop for the rest of your life? Make a move lil bro. You're Bruce's kid you've got to have some game!" Dick teased back before a stray batarang was lobbed towards him.

"I've got it handled." Damian retorted angrily.

"Fine. fine. But blame Tim cuz he's the one who snitched on the rooftop hookups." Dick cooed before ducking out of the room to avoid further assault. Another screech filled the cave.

A few nights later, you were perched on the rooftop once again. This time you didn't have nearly enough work, but were hoping a certain distraction would stick around this time.

And he did.

"Hey" his voice was soft, and your head rose from your book to smile into the shadows.

"Hi! Whatcha got?" you noticed the silhouette was holding something.

"Come see." you could hear his chest rumbling. You felt like you were floating towards the thick railing of the rooftop.

And there he was again. Holding a sketchpad.

"You brought drawings!" you cooed, grinning as he inched closer, leather gloves flipping pages as you drank in the beautiful sketches, watercolours, and poems that filled the pages.

"What do you think?" he whispered, you swore warmth was vibrating off of him, just a few inches away from each other.

"They're beautiful" you quietly replied. He flipped another page, and it was a pencil sketch of you half asleep in your studies, on the rooftop. "From the other night!" you giggled, delicately tracing the sketch with your pinky. Robin drew a sharp breath, loud enough that your eyes were drawn up to his domino mask.

"I've got one more sketch to show you. But, I fear you won't like it." his head dropped slightly, his gloved hand toying with the bottom of the paper, as if debating whether or not to flip it.

"I'll be okay! Promise." you nudged his shoulder, holding up your pinky, a true promise, and a dangerous solution to the question making you dizzy standing next to him.

He shook his head, "look first, promise after" to which you nodded, dropping your hand and eyes to the paper.

As the page turned, you couldn't help but gasp. On the last page of the sketchbook, in the most intricate detail, were two hands. Pinky's locked.

"Take your glove off." you shot your gaze back to the hero.

"Wait." he took a step back.

You took one forward, reaching for the glove yourself.

Back again. "Y/N, wait." you froze at your name on his tongue.

"You and I both know what's under my glove, but I'm giving you an out. I've sat here for months thinking about doing this, wanting to do this. But, you deserve someone who doesn't throw their life away, who can be there for you, someone who isn't... isn't me" he gestured to his outfit, stocked with weapons.

"Who can be there for me? You've protected me more than anyone else in my life. Someone who deserves me? I'm not a trophy, I'm, I'm your soulmate."

"I know, but-" he began but you weren't finished:

"All I deserve, is someone who can love me. Can you do that?" you closed the distance, and he didn't back away.

"It's all I've ever done." he whispered. Delicately, you reached for his hand. He let you draw it from his side, holding desperately still as you peeled the glove from his left hand. And there, in the same pattern as yours, stood his mark.

"You promise?" you gave a small smile, holding up your pinky for the final time.

"Always." he closed the distance, locking your hands together as a warmth like you'd never felt spread through your hand, dancing up your arm, and bursting in your chest.

"Oh my god do you feel that?" you asked breathlessly, your right hand touching your chest.

He nodded, letting your hands drop as his right hand tilted your chin up, your eyes once again meeting a mask.

"I never thought I'd ever do this" his voice was soft, drinking in your closeness to him.

"I would've found you" you said with a grin, you had always had the sixth sense that Robin's visits to your study sessions were more than patrol.

He scoffed, "yeah my brother was gonna make sure of it."

"Your brother?" you dug deeper, fighting the itch to reach up for the mask he wore, your heart begging to see his eyes.

You felt him tug his pinky from yours, "I suppose a promise is a promise." he reached up for you, pulling the mask from his face as familiar green eyes met yours.

"Oh. My god." your jaw dropped, fitting the puzzle together.

"I guess the universe decided I was taking too long and put Richard Grayson on job. I must apologize for the coffee shop, I wasn't expecting to see my Gothamite soulmate seated across from my brother, in Bludhaven. " he sighed, eyes twinkling. You laughed in agreement.

"Quite the wingman" you mused.

Damian nodded, closing the distance as he said "don't ever tell him, but I'm thinking he was right all along" before pressing his lips to yours.

Weeks later you were far less sleep deprived, still loving your job in Bludhaven. Especially because a certain student was always waiting to pick you up for the ride home.

"Hi Dames!" you strolled up to your now boyfriend, pressing a kiss to his cheek while he locked your pinky in his, the two of you strolling towards the cafe that has become your shared favorite place. Settling down in a booth, you both fell into routine: sketching and studying while enjoying the other's presence.

A crazy few weeks, a huge change to your life, but a good one nonetheless. You had to hand it to-

"I knew you lovebirds would be here!" The bell on the cafe door rang, drawing you and Damian out of your focus. Damian rolled his eyes with a scoff and you gave Dick a wave.

Dick was stroll strutting around, "call me cupid the way I matched you two up!" he crooned.

Damian dryly replied, "Richard we are quite literally soulmates." but the oaf wasn't listening, too busy pretending to shoot you both with an invisible bow "cupid style".

You smiled to yourself, if only Dick knew how grateful you and Damian were to have each other... thank to him.

~~~

A/N: pure fluff for your timeline <3 hope you enjoyed!

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allfearstofallto · 8 months ago

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Day of the Wedding

Yandere! Genshin Men x Fem! Reader

Ft: Diluc, Childe, Scaramouche

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Yandere Themes, Forced(?) Alcohol Consumption

AN: I checked today and I have 900 followers??? That's actually insane!!! This is what I've got to offer I guess!!

Diluc

Who wouldn't cry tears of joy when marrying the most desired bachelor of Mondstadt? That's what people thought when they saw you dressed from head to toe in pure white, the only thing throwing your princess attire off being your smeared makeup. Your eyes, so red and puffy, had mascara running down your cheeks. Black tears staining your face.

Despite the way you looked, you still forced a smile. It was a small wedding, containing only those close to the both of you, but your family couldn't help, but wonder why you chose to stay close under your newly wed husband, almost seeming afraid to talk to them.

When the vows were spoken, you could barely get the words out. Your voice shaking through sobs as your tears fell upon the page of written notes, eventually making the ink leak and becoming ineligible. You still spoke your I Do’s, followed by him lifting your veil and kissing you right upon your lips. His hand snaked around your waist and the other held your head in place. But you, you stood there stiffly, like kissing him had made you turn into stone.

Diluc pulled away with a smile, his mouth stained with a slight tint of your lipstick. He walked you back down the aisle, with the crowd throwing rice and cheering. On the happiest day of your life where you were supposed to be looking forward ahead of you, you just kept looking back, hoping that your family could see the distress in your eyes, though they never did.

Childe

So many of Childe's siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles came to the wedding, but not a single one of your family members joined you.

“She's not close to her family,” he'd say, holding on to your waist with a threatening hand. That was a lie. You loved your family. You saw them often, at least, you did before the day you abruptly decided to move to Snezhnaya without a word to them. You hadn't seen them since and they didn't know where to send letters, you were essentially a ghost of their past. Your memory haunted them daily as they missed you dearly and you missed them too.

The wedding lasted days and days. A surprise to even you, but apparently that's tradition. Games and singing. There was dancing happening for what felt like hours. And drinking. So so so much drinking. With a feast that spanned almost an entire table, there was an abundance of alcohol to match.

You could hardly keep up with the festivities. In an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people being wed to a man you thought you knew. Childe wouldn't let you show your discomfort on your face, meeting your lips with a glass of whatever he was drinking, you'd gulp down even more and fall into that drunken dizziness. When the wedding ended, you don't exactly remember. It all became a blur near the end. But you remember waking up to Childe laying you down in bed, placing a kiss on your forehead and whispering words of praise to you that would've been comforting, had it not been for who he was.

Scaramouche

He always adored the way you looked in kimono. Today was no different. The pure white silk draped over your body was by far the nicest one he'd gifted you. Dolled up in traditional make-up, you felt so stiff with your now decadent appearance.

You'd feel less scared if he wasn't still wearing that same glare. That same look of anger and disappointment. Even though it was just the two of you in the room, you him and the officiant who would wed the two of you, he still glared at the man like one mistake would kill him. And it probably would.

Your hand shook as you picked up what looked to be the tea pot, something he made you practice time and time again to prepare just for today. Getting it wrong today would mean facing his wrath later, yet you still shook while pouring it into the small bowl. You watched with a pounding heart as you managed to spill some, dripping onto the floor and sinking between the wood.

Meeting his gaze and preparing for a scolding, you instead saw him lightly chuckle. Seldom did he smile and even more rare than that, did he actually laugh. The sight was even scarier than his usual glares, somehow his joy made him seem even more menacing.

“I expected this much from you,” he whispered into the silence. His nimble fingers gripped the rim of the bowl and he brought it to your lips, making you take a sip of the warm alcohol. It was bitter and disgusting, just as you'd remembered. When you swallowed your sip, he took one right after you, finishing off what was left in the dish, then sitting it to the side again.

Your names were signed onto a piece of parchment, a wedding document written in traditional Inazuma script. You couldn't read a word of it, but there was no worse contract than the one that said you'd be his lawfully wedded wife.

Scaramouche held your hand as the two of you walked out of the shrine, his fingers cold and his grip tight. It was such a beautiful day out. That was all you could think about as you were walked back to his carriage which would take you to his home. Your last day as a truly free woman, you were glad it was beautiful.

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere diluc x reader #yandere diluc #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere Scaramouche

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javierpena-inatacvest · 7 days ago

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Chapter 3- Easier Said Than Done

Summary: Frankie's been by your side through some of the hardest moments in your life. Three years have gone by, and now there's no one you want to see less when you find yourself at your lowest.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, descriptions of a panic attack, hospitals, teenage Frankie's back at it again making it impossible for us to hate him!!

A/N: Hello, my name is Madeline and I am unable to stop writing gut wrenching angst and yearning. (Hi, Madeline). Maybe one of these days I'll stop sobbing like an idiot when I write, but I fear that day may not be coming any time soon

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Spring of 2006, Age 17

Most people say it’s the smell of hospitals they can’t stand. For you, it’s the noise. The constant chaos of voices, monitors, sirens, carts clattering as they roll across the never ending linoleum floor drives you insane. Even when it’s quiet, it’s still never silent. There’s always an ever present reminder looming in the distance to not get too comfortable. The inevitable fear that something could go wrong, and have you wishing that all you had to listen to was the ambiance of continual pandemonium.

That’s why it’s such a relief when you hear the quiet ping of your cell phone resting on the edge of your chair. It’s enough to drown out everything else for a little while.

Frankie :))))))

Hey where r u?

Game starts soon and I cant find u

Katie and Morgan said they havent seen u either

R u ok?

You

Yeah I’m ok.

Dad passed out and hit his head. Mom wasn’t home so I had to take him to the ER.

Called Coach K in the ambulance to tell her I won’t be there.

It’s times like these that it takes everything in you to remind yourself that missing big events to keep your dad alive is better than going to big events without him being here. But when you’re decked head to toe in your soccer uniform, sitting on the edge of your seat in a crowded emergency room instead of getting ready to start the last game of your senior year, it’s hard not to feel a little bitter about it.

You read back over Frankie’s texts as you wait for his response, doing the quick math in your brain before frantically typing back.

You

Wait, didn’t you have to work tonight? Are you at the field?

Frankie :))))))

Called off work weeks ago

U really think I would miss ur last game? Cmon Kenz

Guess its not a surprise anymore. Surprise! lol

You hope the nurse passing by doesn’t notice the way you’re grinning like an idiot at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip to keep your smile from growing so wide it’ll hurt your cheeks. You re-read the last three texts over and over, your face growing warmer each time. You’re not sure why you’d expect anything less. It still never fails to make you feel like your heart is seconds away from bursting at the seams.

Of course he came.

So lost in your train of thought, you hadn’t seen a fourth text pop up across your screen, only the fifth text of “???” that preceded it.

Frankie :))))))

R u at memorial or westwood hospital?

???

You

Memorial. Why?

Frankie :))))))

Be there in 15

You

Frankie you don’t have to do that

Frankie :))))))

2 L8! Already leaving! See u soon!

The tears welling in your eyes were most definitely ones of relief, joy even, that Frankie cared enough to attempt to make it to a soccer game you weren’t even at, let alone forgo a night’s worth of pay to drive himself to the hospital to see you.

Your momentary excitement comes to a sudden stop as onslaught of bodies rush into your room to examine your dad. You’re quick to realize you’ve once again been caught up in a stampede where you’re nothing but another person in the way. An invisible presences that means nothing to anyone in this room. It makes the once blissful wetness welling in the corners of your eyes start to sting with a vengeance.

But you’ve come very quickly to learn that crying doesn’t help anyone, especially when you’re not the one dying.

You try not to let it hurt when your mom doesn’t even acknowledge the fact you’re sporting the jersey of the team you were supposed to start playing with twenty minutes ago, like you had brought your dad to the hospital in your uniform because that and your cleats were the easiest thing to throw on before you called 911. It’s even harder to try not to scream at the fact she barely pays your presence any mind, not even so much as a ‘thank you’ for getting your dad to the hospital in one piece. What’s the most painful is that you’re positive that she, or anyone else, even notices you’re gone when you slip out the door.

You’re here so often that the hospital staff don’t mind that you pace up and down the rows of the waiting room. Sure, they’ll be sending you a bill for the hole you’re burning through their carpet eventually, but that’s not today’s problem.

Right now, part of the reason for your frantic pacing is to cool off some steam so you don’t say something you’ll regret about your dad’s cancer having the audacity to ruin the most important soccer game of your life to date.

You’re also here so often, the hospital staff know Frankie. So much so, that your favorite receptionist, Cassandra, has more than definitely broken several hospital rules to let Frankie stick around long past visiting hours when you’ve needed it most. That’s why all she has to do is give you that look to break you from your vicious cycle of pacing to let you know when he’s arrived through the sliding glass doors of the front entrance.

Most times, he at least makes it a few steps inside before you notice him. Tonight, he’s barely halfway through the door before you’re wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug you have to muster. He pulls you in even tighter.

It’s then that the reality of it all starts to set in. Your best friend had to drive to meet you at the hospital because he’s the only one that remembers you have a soccer game tonight. Your dad is in a cyclical pattern of slowly dying that leaves you feeling like a terrible person for even wishing things were different. You’ve spent the past nine of your seventeen years of life only knowing a world that revolves around cancer. For nine years, you’ve never complained that this is the way your life has been. Tonight, you’ve decided that the weight of the world is un-fucking-fair.

Tonight, you’re not the one dying, but crying seems like the only reasonable thing left to do.

You should be embarrassed by how loud your sobs are, how quick the damn breaks once your body finally lets you give into the pain. These are the kind of tears that make your whole body shake, the ones that make your chest hurt because you can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like some poor, lifeless fish, begging to be thrown back to the sea.

Frankie’s seen you cry before, but not like this. You should care about how your tears are staining the fabric of his t-shirt, how he’s the only thing keeping you standing while your body feels like it’s about to give out underneath you. You hadn’t said a word to each other before you’d collapsed in his arms in a sobbing heap, but right now you don’t care. You can’t.

You’re sure words are exchanged at some point as he practically carries you out to his truck, at least giving you the decency to finish crying without unwanted eyes in the waiting room glued to you, but right now, you can’t remember.

You’re not sure how long it takes you to get back to the point of being able to breathe at a semi-normal pace, but something tells you that Frankie will hold you for as long as you need him too, crying or not.

He gently strokes your back, his thumb tracing over the fabric of your jersey as it draws small circles over and over, a sweet and simple dance of his fingers that steadies you just enough to keep from flying away.

“It’s okay, Kenz. It’s okay.” It’s melodic the way Frankie coos it in your ear, like he’s trying to hush a fussy baby fighting sleep. It’ll take time, persistence and patience, but lucky for you, he’s got all three in spades. “I promise you’re okay. I’m here.”

“This fucking sucks.” It’s not elegant or graceful, but it’s the truth, and right now, it’s all your brain can process.

“I know it is, Kenzie. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not fair. I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life worrying that this is the last day I see him. I just want life to be normal. I just wanna go play my stupid fucking soccer game. It’s not fucking fair.” You ball your fists against Frankie’s chest, pounding into him like he’s the one responsible for your hurt and anger. He’s not the one you need to take it out on, but he’s all you have. You hope he knows it’s not his fault he’s become your emotional punching bag as he takes blow after blow, despite how weak your swings are. You’ve got no strength left to fight.

“I know. It’s not fair. It’s not fair, MacKenzie.”

He takes it all until you have nothing left to give. You’ve lost a game no one ever has a chance of winning. Defeat is the unwanted trophy life rewards you with, but Frankie stands at the podium with you. He’ll take the hits if it helps ease the blow.

“Will you be okay if I’m gone for five minutes? Just five, I promise, and then I’ll be right back.” His question catches you off guard, breaking you from your agitated state, nodding your head just enough to give him the permission he needs to race back through the doors of the hospital as you climb into his passenger seat.

His truck gives you the kind of familiarity the hospital doesn’t. It’s hard not to find irony in the fact you feel safer in his piece of junk car where the wheels could give out beneath you at any moment than you do in a building that is built for saving people’s lives. Maybe it’s because his truck is filled with the memories of moments in life that make you feel like things are going to be okay.

With the way Frankie’s breathing as he jumps into the driver’s seat, it’s hard to think he’s not back in less than two minutes, rather than five. He doesn’t say a word to you as he cranks the ignition, only a little prayer under his breath that now’s not a time his engine has chosen to give out on him. He doesn’t let you ask any questions until you’re already on the road.

“Frankie, what’s- Frankie what are you doing?”

He’s got that crazed kind of look in his eyes he gets when he’s hellbent on making something happen. He always likes to say that you’re the stubborn one. It makes you wonder the last time he’s taken a good, hard look at himself in the mirror.

“I’m taking you to your game.”

He says it so matter of factly, like his response to nearly kidnapping you out of the Memorial Hospital parking lot shouldn’t warrant any questions.

“What?! Frankie! I can’t just-”

“The doctor in the room said he’s stable and he probably won’t be conscious for the next few hours anyways. Your mom said it’s fine. I’m not letting you miss out on this. You deserve to get to play, Kenz.”

You’re not sure at that moment if you want to kiss him or slap him across the back of the head. Maybe it’s a little bit of both.

“Frankie, I-”

“I’ll turn around and take you back if you want me to, but I don’t think you want me to turn around.”

God, maybe you do want to kiss him.

“I hate you, Francisco, I hope you know that.”

“I know. It’s okay, you play better when you’re angry, anyways.”

It’s always the little smirk in the corner of his mouth. The one he makes when he knows he’s right. It’s the same smirk he makes when he greets you after you’ve scored two goals to help your team win the last game of your high school career. The same one he gives you when he buys you ice cream to celebrate with two scoops of cookie dough instead of one, because you won’t stop laughing at his stupid joke about your big appetite for winning.

That night, you fall asleep on his couch, too tired to drive back to the hospital, too scared to sleep in your house alone. You’re not sure if you mean to doze off with your head resting against his thigh like some sort of makeshift pillow. It’s easiest just to blame it on the fact you’re too exhausted to get up. But as you close your eyes and drift to sleep, you’re almost sure that the only muscle Frankie dares to move is the one that pulls the line of his lips into that same smirk you’d rather die than live without.

You, Present

You’re shocked your initial response to seeing Frankie Morales for the first time in three years wasn’t immediately slamming your front door in his face and telling him to fuck off.

That’s what your body wanted you to do. For as badly as it did, your some part of your brain wouldn’t let you.

It’s probably the same, stupid part of your brain that won’t let you stop staring at him, either.

He looks good. Way better than you’d like him to. It doesn’t seem fair that he somehow manages to find a way to return home more handsome than when he left. It happens every damn time. You swear he does it on purpose. You don’t know how he could, but that’s what you tell yourself. It makes it easier to hate him.

“I didn’t know you were home.”

It’s probably the worst thing you could have said to break the awkward silence stewing between you, because you both know it’s a dirty lie. But at this point, you’re far past granting Frankie the privilege of being a part of the truth- you’ll give him your version of the truth that you want him to hear. You’re not letting him have the upper hand.

“Yeah. I uh- got home this morning.”

Good to know the best either of you could do was reduce your relationship down to nothing but lying. If that’s the game he wants to play, then so be it.

“Drive was good?”

“Yeah.” Lie. “You?”

“Fine.” Lie.

For as much as you know the lies hurt, it’s the curveball you hit him with next that you hope stings the worst.

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.”

Because that was the truth. The way his face drops tells you the guilt ridden punch you’ve socked him with hits exactly where you want it to. You want the truth to hurt more. You want it to hurt just as bad as the way his truth hurt you.

“Of course I was gonna come.”

It’s a poor attempt at a swing back. He showed up with a knife at your gun fight. He knows well enough you won’t show him any mercy.

“Wouldn’t have been the first time you hadn’t shown up for something important, Frankie.”

“Your dad’s fucking dying MacKenzie, what makes you think I wouldn’t be here?”

“Well, he’s been dying for the past three years so I’m glad you’re deciding to show up when it’s convenient for you.”

That one shuts him up real fucking fast.

His jaw ticks as he takes a deep breath, staring up at the sky like there’s something written in the clouds that will give him instructions on what to say next. There’s not much he could say at this point that would shock you, but Frankie never ceases to be full of surprises, whether you like it or not.

“I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Kenz. I’m sorry.”

That shuts you up even quicker.

It shuts you up because you know he’s not lying. The truth is buried in the way his voice breaks at the start of your name, the way the “K” trembles off his tongue and shakes in the back of his throat.

Your heart is mangled in your chest, hearing him say the two words you’d never thought you’d get and realizing you can’t accept it.

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough, Frankie.”

Neither of you are sure what to say. It’s tough to tell if the fight is over because Frankie’s stabbed you to death and you’ve unloaded every last bullet you had, or if you decided to put your weapons down and walk away before any casualties have occurred. While it’s hard to deny it’s the latter of the two options, at least the first one would have been the honorable way to go.

“Honey, is that Frankie at the door? Let him in, MacKenzie, don’t make him stand out there!”

If there’s one thing you can always count on your mom for, it's that she’ll never fail to have impeccable timing, for better or worse.

You don’t intend for the sigh you let out to be as loud as it is, but it certainly makes it clear to Frankie you aren’t happy about obliging to your mom’s request. You expect him to pass you like you don’t exist, entering your house to greet the two of the three family members who still care about him enough to not burn a hole through his chest every time they look at him, but he doesn’t. He waits for your okay, frozen on the porch until the subtle shrug of your shoulders signals you’ve given him the all clear to pass. He wants to know you’ll at least let him through unscathed for now.

You follow behind him as he enters your house, trying to ignore the fact you’re entranced by the dark brown curls that still tickle the nape of his neck as he walks, or how the width of his shoulders nearly stretch from one end of the door frame to the other. You’re starting to regret not letting him follow you in instead.

You nearly bump into him with how quick he is to freeze once he sees the state of your living room. In the past few weeks, it’s made a terrible transformation from the space you once knew to a makeshift hospital room. The hospice workers had crowded your house with beds, oxygen tanks, and a wheelchair your dad refuses to sit in, an endless puzzle of enough supplies to let your father die in his own home, rather than the cold, sterile wasteland of the nearest hospital.

You’d been able to ease yourself into your dad’s decline. You’d watched the months leading up to now as his body became weaker and sicker, reducing down to nothing but bones and deep, dark set eyes. You were a first hand witness to how cancer had greedily sucked every ounce of life he had left in him, taking and taking until he had nothing left to give.

Last time Frankie saw your dad he was in remission. He looked good, healthy, even. That was three years ago. Frankie would have never imagined barely being able to recognize the man that was the closest thing to a real father he’d ever get.

You want to scream at him that it’s his own damn fault he’s this shocked when he comes face to face with the shell of the man your dad used to be. But with the way you can practically see the guilt oozing out of Frankie with every step he takes towards the near lifeless body lying in the misplaced hospital bed in your living room, you can’t help but let your empathy get the best of you.

“Hi Frankie, how are you? It’s so good to see you, honey.”

Even though your mom knows you’re seconds away from wanting to dropkick Frankie off the face of the earth, there are few things she’ll ever let get in the way of her warm and welcoming demeanor.

Frankie’s still borderline speechless as your mom grabs the tray of cookies he’s been awkwardly toting before she embraces him, arms still glued to his sides like he’s too afraid to move. The way she’s got him in the hug gives him no choice but to stare at the unsettling image of your dad over her shoulder, barely strong enough to turn his head to see what all the fuss is about.

“H-hi, Mrs. Anderson. I’m okay. It’s good to see you, too.”

“Is that my Frank the Tank? C’mere, kiddo. I was hopin’ I’d get to see you.”

The past few weeks have made you shed enough tears to last a lifetime. Never once did you expect the thing that would make you cry the hardest out of everything you’d been through was hearing the long lost excitement in your dad’s voice upon Frankie’s return.

It’s childish, the way you storm upstairs and slam your bedroom door behind you without a word, heat seething through your veins at the way your dad was so quick to forgive, welcoming Frankie back into his home like a day hadn’t passed, like he had been there right alongside him every step of the way through his descent. Your blood boils at the fact your father can’t be bothered to remember that Frankie had been nowhere to be found for three fucking years. Not a text, not a call, not even a “Frankie says hi!” through his mother four doors down.

You can deal with the embarrassment of throwing a full blown temper tantrum later, but that’s more tolerable than spending another second in the same room as Frankie.

“Well,” your dad huffs, his face grimaced with sarcasm as he looks back and forth between your mom, Frankie, and the empty presence you’d left behind, “that went well.”

“Sorry about that, she’s um-”

“She’s fine. Just stubborn.” Your dad grumbles, cutting off your mom with the best attempt he can make to raise his arm from the bed and wave her off.

“No, I uh- it’s fine, I just- I should probably get going, don’t wanna take um- take up too much of your time.” Frankie’s heart sinks in the uncomfortable silence, quietly cursing himself for the mess he’s made.

“It’s what, 8 o’clock in the morning? You got a bingo game at the senior center you need to get to, young man?”

“No, I just-”

“Perfect, no is the only word I needed to hear.” Your dad weakly smiles, gently patting the edge of the bed for Frankie to join him.

Your heart winces hearing the heavy footsteps a floor below you from your bedroom, knowing the direction they’re heading is only further into your house and not back out the front door where you’d prefer him to be.

Thank goodness your dad has lost the ability to speak loud enough for you to hear the words that follow the thumps of Frankie’s feet.

“Frankie, I’ve lived a very happy life. There are few things about it I’d change. But you know just as well as me that my daughter is the one who so lovingly inherited my stubbornness. Lucky for me, God knows I’m stubborn enough not to die until you and her figure this out. Unlucky for the both of you, that my time for stubbornness is starting to run thin.”

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

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gibberishfangirl · 5 months ago

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WIND BREAKER | when they have a gamer girlfriend

Synopsis ✰ head cannons of how the boys react/feel after learning your love for video games (+ what game you play/are addicted to)

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! just cute content, the boys being cute boyfriends who support their girlfriends interests

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

❤︎ MINECRAFT LOVER, you can’t help it you love minecraft you can’t trust anyone who doesn’t it’s insane!

❤︎ your love for minecraft got so bad you literally paid around 1k for a pc set just to play minecraft

❤︎ of course you have all the cutest mods downloaded in your system you just can’t have it any other way

❤︎ sakura doesn’t understand the concept of minecraft so you forced him to spend an all nighter at your place in order to show him the wonders and joys of Minecraft

❤︎ you even let sakura build his own world on your pc

❤︎ he adapted a very emotional relationship with his virtual pet wolf — it died within that same hour after he accidentally pushed it off a cliff (yes he mourns over it forever)

❤︎ his obsession for minecraft grew and even goes to your house just to play minecraft sometimes (not that you mind, you LOVE watching him play and think it’s adorable how much he tries in his world)

❤︎ he downloaded minecraft on his phone and the two of you play on there in your shared world with your cats and dogs

❤︎ yes you two have matching skins, he claims they’re lame but he loves it

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

❤︎ sadly you have fallen victim to being an overwatch addict

❤︎ you hate the game but you’re so addicted to it and have simply committed too much time to quit

❤︎ you love team based games and always fall into the curse of being a support main

❤︎ the rage gets so bad sometimes Umemiya is always there to comfort you after you get dragged through the mud by other players

❤︎ Umemiya finds it cute how you play team based games considering he’s a leader

❤︎ loves to watch you play, finds it fascinating to be honest

❤︎ he loves to hear you ramble about the game, the hero’s, the buffs, the nerfs, has no idea what you’re talking about but listens regardless

❤︎ he eventually also falls victim to the overwatch addict syndrome

❤︎ you pocket him in games and get accused of edating

❤︎ he’s a dps/genji main (i said what i said)

❤︎ yes you two get especially flamed whenever playing the mercy/genji duo (LMAOO goodluck)

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

❤︎ you’re an animal crossing lover

❤︎ you work hard in your world trying to make everything cute, literally spend hours perfecting the cuteness

❤︎ YOU GET SO LUCKY ?! actually have the cutest villagers as well

❤︎ you carry your switch EVERYWHERE, you never leave the house without it

❤︎ you even own the pink nintendo switch lite that you use for your travel/daily use

❤︎ suo finds your habits adorable and loves to watch you fiddle away on your switch when you two are killing time

❤︎ you obviously had to give him a tour of the village and show him all your hard work

❤︎ he loves to hear you rank your villagers from least to most favorite

❤︎ even watches some videos on his own time to understand the game more and surprise you with his own knowledge

❤︎ lets you sit on his lap while you play and he watches

❤︎ goes around abusing your villagers with the butterfly net when you let him play

❤︎ whenever he comes over you both catch butterflies and animals in the game trying to see who can find the best one

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

❤︎ your a sims player, it can’t be helped

❤︎ when you and nirei started dating you even created a world with the two of you and planned out a sims wedding

❤︎ he wasn’t creeped out at all he actually found it to be very sweet and charming

❤︎ he has no idea what the sims is originally so you HAD to introduce him

❤︎ once he understands the concept he is HOOKED seriously sign him tf up

❤︎ you let him create worlds on your account

❤︎ you helped him create a world that has both of you AND his all his friends

❤︎ you both spend hours torturing the boys virtually on the sims

❤︎ spend all your time laughing and giggling at the game

❤︎ he goes down the deep rabbit hole of all the crazy and unhinged sims challenges that were popular on youtube years ago (if you know you know, the 100 babies challenge, etc.)

❤︎ kept this a secret but he also created a sims world on his own with the two of you where your sims got married, had kids, and lived happily ever after

❤︎ is manifesting that same future for the two of you in reality

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

❤︎ you’re the biggest fortnite FIEND to exist, a massive sweat and a pro builder

❤︎ you challenge everyone and anyone to a 1v1 just to show off your building skills

❤︎ he was instantly intrigued once he saw how good you were at the game

❤︎ not to mention you literally own every single skin in existence; the cute ones, ugly ones, freaky looking ones, questionable ones, anime ones, ALL OF THEM

❤︎ he purchased a console just to play with you and i kid you not you play with him almost every single day. it’s apart of the daily routine

❤︎ you LOVE to 1v1 him and make him rage just because you’re that much better

❤︎ you get extremely sweaty once he actually starts getting good

❤︎ yes you two have matching skins AND MATCHING GAMER TAGS

❤︎ you had to change your gamer tag just to please your boyfriend

❤︎ his gamer tag: ifistfight , your gamer tag: fight

❤︎ yes you two shit on the entire lobby in duos, sometimes you two dabble in online trolling

❤︎ your matching skins are the shark skins cozy chomps (if you know you know, THEYRE SO CUTE)

❤︎ you always have vbucks on deck

❤︎ you also own every emote to exist

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

❤︎ you’re the raging toxic cod player

❤︎ specifically a civilized one who isn’t a complete piece of shit

❤︎ you rage so easily in the game

❤︎ ofc you have a pink load out you wouldn’t have it any other way

❤︎ you straight up purchased the nicki minaj skin not because you like her but because hello?? it’s a pink skin WITH A PINK GUN THAT SHOOTS GLITTER ?? consider yourself sold

❤︎ first saw you play when he went over to your house unexpectedly while you were in the middle of gaming

❤︎ he’s super impressed by how good your aim is

❤︎ he usually sits on the ledge of your bed while being captivated by your movement in the game and your skills

❤︎ ofc you’re a sniper and he finds that even more impressive to see you clip bitches in less than a second

❤︎ sometimes he’ll sit on your gaming chair and you’ll sit on his lap while you play

❤︎ he likes to watch your hands fiddle with the controller while you game

❤︎ he’s tried it out himself but much rather prefers watching you play than playing himself

❤︎ if anyone else ever mentions that they play cod he hypes you up and instantly starts bragging about how his girlfriend could smoke them in a 1v1

a/n <3 : this was so much fun to write. might make a part 2 with different games ? not sure yet lmk if yall want that

#wind breaker #sakura haruka #sakura haruka x reader #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #hayato suo #suo hayato x reader #nirei akihiko #nirei akihiko x reader #jo togame #jo togame x reader #choji tomiyama #choji tomiyama x reader #wind breaker x reader

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isaacswhy · 7 months ago

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home

isaacwhy x gn!reader (sfw) 1.6k summary: moving to the new house was rough, and you had to stay in a hotel for a few days while the boys moved. once you were settled in, you realized just how much you loved it. requested?: no

It brought you no joy to spend another night in the hotel. Of course, you were thankful that Isaac had paid for your nights staying there, but it was frustrating. You weren't able to sleep at home, with your boyfriend, like you usually were. But, you understood that he was just trying to keep you from going insane from how the other guys acted while they moved. It wasn't his first rodeo doing it.

No matter what, though, you still had to swipe your key card and drop your bag in the hotel as you always had. Isaac spent the first night with you, but had to stay the rest of the nights at the new house while they were moving in. The two of you learned the hard way that when Isaac wasn't around while the grown-up toddlers were moving their belongings, they'd be on the verge of burning the place down all the time.

At the very least, you got to call him. You took your shoes off, doing a quick switch into some pajama pants and walked over to your bed. That was the good part of the hotel, the phenomenal bedding. Isaac really shelled out for your comfort. You fished your phone from your pocket and opened Isaac's contact, pressing the little "FaceTime" button.

The line rang for a few seconds, allowing you to adjust how you looked in the camera before he picked up. Your image shrank into the corner as his face came into full view, beaming and bright. You couldn't help the smile on your face when you saw his big, toothy grin.

"Hi baby!" Isaac half-shouted as you watched him fall back on his bed, his curls spreading onto the blanket.

You waved to the camera. "Hi Isaac! How was the day today? Any good news for me?"

"Today was good!" Isaac sat up and looked down at the camera, "I should be able to have us fully settled by tomorrow. Hopefully, you can spend the night then."

You grinned a little bit at the prospect. You'd missed his strong arms wrapped around you. "That's great! I'll keep my phone on me and probably go out for a little shopping trip in the new city, so just give me a call whenever you think the place is ready."

"Sounds like a plan," He said, "I've been setting up our room, actually. Do you want to see now?"

"No, no, leave it a surprise for tomorrow night." With the house being a little bigger than the last one, somehow, the two of you were sharing a room and Isaac's setup would be in an office room connected to it. Although, you shared a room in the last house, but it was essentially just moving into Isaac's space and tossing your own clothes in his closet.

Things wrapped up easily that night, the two of you talking for a little too long until Isaac had to cut off the call. It was getting late, and he needed the energy for tomorrow. When you finally hung up, you tucked into bed, only Isaac filling your thoughts as you drifted off.

You awoke to the sunlight peering through the curtains the next morning. Grabbing your phone, you saw no news from Isaac and got up for the day.

It was pretty uneventful, other than picking up a few new pieces of clothes and a pair of shoes for Isaac. He was a bit of a nut about his shoe game, and you recognized the pair as one he'd been keeping his eye out for online. Luckily, they had a pair in his size. Shoe shopping for a man so tall was a nightmare sometimes.

You were just getting out of the line with your new items when you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket. Grabbing it showed Isaac's contact and a phone call, so you picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hey! I was just letting you know it should be good to come down whenever," Isaac sounded a little out of breath, "Just finished unpacking the last of our stuff. Had to carry Tanner's desk into his room so he could set up his computer. Anyways, if you want to pack up your stuff in the hotel and come down, I'm ready for you!"

A big grin spread across your face. "That's amazing! I'll be headed down soon. Just finishing up a trip to the mall, but I'm gonna head to the hotel right away. I'll pack up my shit and get down to you in a minute, okay?"

"Okay! I love you!"

Your heart warmed a little bit. "I love you too, Isaac, bye."

You were practically sprinting back to the hotel. Once you got inside, you were glad not to have unpacked everything yet. The rest of your clothes and other personal belongings you had with you were packed up quickly into your bags. The car Isaac had rented for you waited for you in the parking garage, where you tossed your things in there. From there, you hit the road.

The drive wasn't too long, but they'd chosen a location far enough from downtown to give themselves privacy. You didn't mind the drive, though, since it was just building excitement to see your boyfriend for the first time in a few days.

You finally pulled into the driveway and walked up to the front door, using your key to get inside. The place was beautiful. Clean, more modern look but with a touch of the luxury that came with a house of this size and price. Of course, in a few weeks, it'd look more like a bomb went off in here. But for the time being, it looked great.

Nick poked his head out from the kitchen and waved at you. "Hey! You finally made it!"

You nodded and waved back, smiling. "Yeah! Isaac thought it'd be best if I wasn't in your guys' path of destruction while you all got moved in. Since I hadn't brought a lot to the last house, anyways, I'm just the last piece of the puzzle."

"That.. makes sense, actually," Nick laughed to himself, "Well, welcome home! ISAAC! GET DOWN HERE!"

You flinched a bit at Nick's sudden yelling, but you heard thundering footsteps as suddenly, your boyfriend ran down the stairs and towards you. You practically leapt into his arms, feeling him pick you up and spin you around.

"You're home!" Isaac was practically squealing into your shirt as he finally put you down, "Do you like it?"

When you saw him like this, he really looked like an oversized puppy. "I love it! The place looks so nice! For now.."

"I'll do my best to make sure they don't rip it to shreds like the last house.." Isaac nervously chuckled, "Come on! Let me show you the room!"

You took Isaac's oversized hand as you followed him up the stairs, leading you through a hallway or two before he opened a door. He led you inside, and you were met with beauty. It was simple, clean, and everything you liked. There was so much personality, the shelves and tables lined with little trinkets, figures, and other pieces of things that you both liked.

You walked over to one of the shelves, smirking. "Did you get me a Jujutsu Kaisen figure?"

"Only because I thought you were really into it," He said with a shy smile, "Did I get it right?"

You nodded and smiled. It was your favorite character from the show, after all. He'd been a good listener after forcing you to watch it with him. "You did, don't worry. This room is amazing, should we go get my bags?"

Isaac lit up a bit. "Oh, right! I'll go get them, maybe get Nick to grab one. You don't worry about any of that, stay here and get yourself acquainted! Look around!"

Before you could protest, he was out of the room and you heard his footsteps down the hallway. You decided to do as he suggested, looking through everything he had set up in your room. You tested out the bed, which was as soft and comforting as you'd loved.

You walked into the office room connected to the bedroom, smiling at his setup and looking over to see a second setup. Before you'd moved, you had another setup that decided to short out during the hot summer heat. When you needed to play something, you often just used Isaac's or bullied Nick when Isaac was busy.

But, there was a second setup, next to Isaac's. It was your favorite color, with some figures and little items from your favorite shows decorating the desk, and a beautiful keyboard and mouse. You approached it, running your hand over the keys and pressing a few. The sound was off the charts.

"You like it?"

You turned around and saw Isaac standing at the door, with a grin on his face. "It's perfect. Was this the real reason you didn't want me here when you were moving in? So you could build all of this?"

Isaac shrugged his shoulders. "Maaaybe."

You sighed and shook your head. "You didn't have to do all this for me," You said with a sigh, but you walked up to him and smiled, "Thank you."

"Of course I have to, I'm your boyfriend," Isaac's voice made you weak in the knees a little bit. When he spoke so softly as he pulled you into a tight hug, his voice warmed your body like nothing else could.

With Isaac's arms wrapped around you like they were, you were able to take in his scent and sit there in the peace in quiet. It felt like pure comfort to you. It felt like home.

#isaacwhy #isaacwhy x reader #the group chat #the group #the group x reader #tgc #tgc x reader #yumi #softwilly #bigt #larry croft #grunk

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tossawary · 3 months ago

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The Abbey of the Everyman in "Dishonored" is generally, as depicted in the games specifically, almost as two-dimensional as it gets with corrupt and oppressive fantasy religions. As enemy NPCs, the Overseers are nearly all witch-hunting thugs who want power at any price or just enjoy hurting people, so the player doesn't have to feel bad about hurting them. The "Dishonored" games also tend to take place in particularly miserable locations during particularly miserable times, so there's just not a lot of opportunity to see an alternate side to this strict and brutal organization where it might actually bring joy and comfort and community to people, instead of just being an arm of murderous governments.

Nevertheless, I do really enjoy the setup of the divine and religious institution here. The only god this religion has isn't a creator, he's (in the Abbey's eyes) an evil tempter who apparently makes people go insane. There are no heavens, only a hell of sorts, and the hell itself is definitely the weightier divine "entity" between it and the god. It's called the Void and it's made of magic and fucking with it for power blindly will almost certainly make you go mad in the long run. (It's also full of demon whales who are also kind of godly, but they're pretty much just chilling there.) There's no "good" god as a counterpart here, just the "evil" one.

So, the religion has the the usual "follow our strictures for a good life" setup, but it's coming at it from a "ignore the god as hard as possible, if you heard him talking to you, no, you didn't" perspective.

Which is, admittedly, not an unreasonable take on the situation, seeing as interacting with the Void apparently DOES regularly cause people to start writing on the walls in their own blood, if not worse. There are a few Overseers here and there (Khulan, Byrne) within a generally cruel and corrupt organization who seem to be acting out of some genuine concern for public safety and the greater good, and when you look at some of the shit Delilah's witches are doing for funsies, you can kind of go, "Okay, I understand why you might be fanatical about trying to keep this from happening, and you're working off of the teachings that you have."

It's just funny to me that "Dishonored" has the typical "evil worshippers of an evil god" fantasy setup in the form of Delilah's witches and Granny Rags and so on, but then the actual religious institution is built on rules and lore of "don't talk to the evil god or we'll kill you" and "don't use the evil hell magic or we'll kill you" without any kind of good counterpart. And then you have gangs like the Whalers where the general take seems to be, "Our boss has a direct connection to the evil god and it gives us all magic, but idk, I just work here."

And meanwhile the big, scary "evil god" everyone freaks out over is just some guy who got murdered by a cult a few thousand years ago and was forced to become the face of hell, and his main power honestly seems to be giving other people powers in a way that makes himself really vulnerable, actually, and he's doing that apparently mostly because he's bored and suicidal. And maybe also because he still cares about the world in his own way.

#tossawary dishonored #spoilers #the outsider #character death #delilah copperspoon #daud #suicide

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thedevilrisen · 2 months ago

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Hospital - 5

TW: HOSPITALS, nothing bad, just a description of someone in a hospital.

Nova Crosby -

1:16am

Theorising while sitting in an intensive care waiting room at quarter past one in the morning is never a good idea. Particularly after being given fodder such as an unplanned emergency surgery, both men had their own ideas on what could have happened. Knowing the extent of Nova's condition before she was whisked away at the emergency room Luke was trying to use Sid's aged wisdom to conclude what happened. But both of them had absolutely nothing.

Standing, leaning against the granite kitchenette counter which was more so holding the exhausted form of Sidney up while he skulled the dregs of his third coffee. Religiously Sid only had one coffee a day on decaf, but in such a drastic situation where he needed to be as awake as possible if the promised Nurse ever actually came. Each time a pair of lone footsteps clacked down the hall Sid or Luke, whoever was closest to the door looked out to check if it was a Nurse.

Two times it was the food delivery, bringing in product for the next day, one it was the cleaner and three times orderlies who were moving wheelchairs back to the spots they needed to go to. Every time Sid became more agitated, the patient Canadian niceness was wearing thin, exceptionally fast. Each time it wasn't a nurse with answers and every minute that ticked by that the phone didn't ring with answers his frustration exponentially increased.

"I think I'm going fucking insane Luke." Sid mumbled, pouring hot water into another cup loaded with instant coffee. His incessant grumbling and almost permanently creased brow was giving away the fact that he hadn't had an emotional outlet since he left the game almost six hours prior. He had held Luke through his initial crash when he first arrived and had gave him a pat on the back and or shoulder rub depending on where he was when Luke needed a little extra comforting.

Luke was now almost apathetic, but Sid. Sidney was dangerously toeing the line of complete and utter meltdown. He prided himself on his sturdy and tentative nature. He was kind, never raised his voice, except when Nova goes joy riding with a bunch of college boys to New Jersey for the weekend- ... but thats a different story. Sidney solidly believed that any rebellious situation Nova had been in would be better than this right now. He could control it, make sure she was safe and okay. See with his own two eyes, not matter how red they were hazed with his rage that she was okay.

"I know what you're talking about Sid. I feel like I could drop asleep any minute but it's Murphy's law. I do that and suddenly she's awake and we can see her." Luke half slurred, half grumbled.

"This is fucking ridiculous, where did they say the ICU room is?" Sid spoke firmly, leaving no room for argument, although Luke tried.

"Sid, I'm as upset as you. It's only been a little while since the call, they are probably getting her sorted." The optimism coming from Luke slathered in monotonous tonality fell about as flat as a crepe to floor.

"No, that's my fucking daughter!" Sid launched back, the string holding him up seemed to fray ever so thinner. "Give me th-"

A gentle knocking sounded from the door, as a young Nurse, clad in burgundy scrubs poked her head in, pushing the door open, "Are you with Nova Crosby?"

"About fucking time!" Sidney crows, the clench of his fist in the fabric of his suit pant pocket is enough to give away the fact that he is fuming.

"I'm sorry Sir, we've been as quick as we could, you can come see her now if you want." The Nurse was desperately trying to diffuse Sid's anger, not directed at her but rather the situation.

"We'd love that." He spoke through gritted teeth. Checking Luke was following him as they began down the hall where they met a coded door that the nurse typed in and were led into a a white room with two sinks.

"If you could please wash your hands before coming in, it assists us in making sure the patients aren't compromised." before she had even finished both boys had started scrubbing, very thoroughly for their waning patience. When they finished the nurse led them through the ICU department towards the back where surrounded by a blue medical curtain was a bed. In that bed Nova laid, a fraction of consciousness, behind her bed was a plethora of machines which beeped and rang in their timely fashion. Sidney couldn't figure out when he went from fine to hyperventilating as he stared at his daughter, so young and fragile swaddled in white hospital blankets, akin to the ones she was handed to him for the first time he held her.

The ugly tubes coming out of her arms, cannulas in her elbow and top of her hand, a feeding tube coming out of her nose, a heart monitor connected directly to her chest. It was all too much, he didn't know he was crying and how obvious it had become that his mental capacity for the situation was declining greatly.

"Sir." A middle aged man in a white coat coxed him towards a door, leading him away from Nova. Pushing him outside as he looked a Luke who had sat down beside her, the moment romantic but catastrophic.

"That's my girl!" Sid roared in anguish, "Thats- THATS MY BABY."

"Sir, you need to calm down."

"NO DON'T TELL ME ANYTHING. Thats my baby girl! I have raised her for nineteen years, I of all people deserved to know what happened to her as soon as I arrived! Do you know how much she means to me, seeing her like is equivalent to ripping my heart out and piercing it with a stake!" Sid was hysterically now, loud voice echoing throughout the deserted hallway. "I need to know! I need you to do your fucking job and not be incompetent! Please."

The doctor led Sid to a chair and sat him down. "I'm a father too, I understand your anguish." he took a deep breath, "I will tell you everything but I must warn you, it will hurt and be a shock to the system. My team and I are dedicated to helping your daughter though, I want you to trust we will do everything in our power to help."

Sid took a deep breath, this was going to be a long conversation.

#risen rambles :d #nc57 #luke hughes #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #hughes brothers #new jersey devils #nj devils #sidney crosby #sidney crosby fanfic #sidney crosby fanfiction #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby x reader #pittsburgh penguins #luke hughes x oc #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby x oc

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colorsisgoodactually · 9 months ago

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I gotta say one of the biggest casualties of AI art is one of my favorite things in this fandom, SnapCube's Sonic Destruciton.

For those unaware Sonic Destruction is an AI generated Sonic script that is maybe one of the most batshit insane things to ever exist. I love it. It's my comfort video. I've seen both episodes more times that I can count and will constantly quote along with them. My backup choice for the name of this blog was going to be a Destruction reference.

With the movement to AI art actually putting the livelihood of real artists in jeopardy it adds a horrible, ugly cloud over something that was once very easy to enjoy. And the worst part is that destruction actively proves WHY AI writing isn't the future.

Destruction is NONSENSE. Complete and utter NONSENSE. The only reasons it KIND OF makes sense is because Penny Parker works extremely hard to tie the script into some cohesive narrative. But the joy of Destruction is that there is a very specific KIND of nonsense that can ONLY come from AI. Things that NO HUMAN IN THIER RIGHT MIND would write.

Things like there being two Shadows for no reason, the endless repetition of "large", "Sonic I think you should sit there" Shadow points to the bathtub, Charlamaigne Bee, Shadow the Hedgehog for the PS2 being a documentary but also Shadow isn't Shadow it's Silver that's Shadow and ARE YOU CONFUSED YET?, Sonic is a human for no reason, Tails and Knuckles have gone feral for no reason, and whether or not this takes place on earth or if "Earth" is a simulation inside a PS2 game.

The point is that AI can't be trusted to write a cohesive narrative. It's not smart enough. So the fun comes from watching it make the wildest creative choices possible and watching Penny struggle in vain to make it make SOME kind of sense and watching the cast react.

It's a beautiful commentary on why AI can't replace writers and also brilliantly funny and like all great Sci-Fi cautionary tales, major corporations have looked at it and gone, "actually lemme get in on that action."

Not sure what point I was trying to make here, just that it sucks that the world is a little less bright now that people are actually trying to push AI beyond what it's capable of to the detriment of other humans.

The threat was never an AI turning evil, it was AI empowering already evil humans.

#AI #AI Art #Sonic #Sonic Destruction #Snapcube #Snapcube Fandubs

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amarynthian-chronicles · 3 months ago

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Hello!

Had a small little thought.

How would your vampire or fae DCA boys react to a sick y/n???

Food for thought!

Hope you’re having a wonderful day or night! Keep being awesome!

Hello, Raven!!!! I hope you are doing well and having an amazing day/night as well!!! @ravenwriter16

That is a very good question, I have this envisioned:

The Vampire DCA:

All three of them would be capable of detecting something being wrong with Y/N's organism far in advance of them getting fully outwardly sick, capable of sensing blood components and temperature change, even the smallest abnormalities.

Y/N would be hauled into a nest of pillows and blankets before their first sneeze, and of course they would cutely complain that the boys are acting insane and that they are feeling fine and well. And then they would finally cutely sneeze and feel their muscles ache and then begrudgingly they would admit the boys were right.

The best food and medicine is already prepared for their darling. Viscount Sun is painting pretty pictures to amuse Y/N, Marquis Moon is playing a soothing tune for them, and Grand Duke Eclipse is showing them his jewel collection and telling stories about how he defeated each enemy's soul that the jewels contain.

Fae Royalty DCA:

Equally caring, if not even more so, the royal Fae brothers would use all at their disposal to make Y/N as comfortable as possible, preparing all remedies necessary for a human to heal, as well as using their magic to make sure there are no serious illnesses threatening Y/N.

Prince Sun prepares a whole private theater show for Y/N, amusing them with word games and silly plots, while Prince Moon recites ancient poetry of forgotten times to keep Y/N's mind off of their sickness. The Fae King Eclipse conjures magnificent apparitions of galaxies and stars from Past, Present and Future, all for Y/N's pleasure and joy. Of course, there are so many cuddles and tenderness and adoration from the boys, they practically see Y/N as their sweet beloved deity.

I hope this was alright!! Thank you and have a lovely day/night

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poguesofthebau · 1 year ago

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microscope, part two

read part one here :) summary: you and steve had just enough privacy to have an actual relationship, but your friends still didn't fully understand your boundaries. slowly but surely, their tendency to barge in started to drive you insane.

word count: 6.5k pairing: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader tags: @nix-rose-q @anea08

"seriously, y/n. all i'm saying is that i think you'd really love d&d if you gave it a try. don't knock it 'til you try it!"

you scoffed from your place in the driver's seat of the car, throwing your brother a dubious look as you took a right turn. there was only about another minute left of your ride home from school, and you'd been bickering the entire time about your steadfast refusal to learn and/or play dungeons and dragons. "dustin, our lives are like an actual game of d&d. fighting demogorgons and the mind flayer and vecna might be a cool concept in theory, but i think experiencing it in the flesh kind of ruins the fun."

although he didn't notice until after he was done talking, dustin's response was mostly lost on you. you'd been listening intently at first, fully prepared to carry out the lighthearted debate to its end, but the familiar brown bmw that suddenly appeared in your rearview mirror quickly took precedent over bickering with your little brother. you found yourself donning a giddy smile at steve's impressive timing-- he'd opened family video that morning and worked until 2, giving himself just enough time to stop back at his house to shower off the smell of vhs tapes and strangers before meeting you at your house as soon as he possibly could-- and almost running the last stop sign on the route to your house to get to see him faster. you took the final turn into your driveway a little fast, slightly jerking dustin around in the passenger seat as he made his concluding points about the joys of playing d&d. it was only when he looked at you to see what had caused the harsh turn that he realized you hadn't been listening to him at all, and before he could question it, steve was pulling into the driveway behind you.

"jesus christ," dustin remarked dramatically. "you gave me whiplash because steve is here? you saw him yesterday!" you spared a brief moment to stick your tongue out at dustin in a childish response before swinging open your car door and seeking out the boy you'd been waiting all day to see.

you'd slipped into steve's arms as soon as you wriggled out of the car, ignoring your brother's groan as you greeted your boyfriend. dustin made a few disapproving comments as he ascended the stairs to your house, not bothering to offer his older friend an actual greeting before heading inside. waiting until you heard the click of your front door shutting behind the boy before releasing steve, you leaned up to peck him on the lips a few times.

"hey, baby," steve said contentedly, leaning in again to kiss you on the cheek as you smiled up at him.

"hi, stevie."

once you'd been greeted sufficiently, he reached into the backseat and retrieved your backpack, slinging one of its straps over his shoulder and sliding his opposite hand into yours. from there, you guided him into your house, only pausing on the walk to your room to call out a warning to dustin, who was now in the kitchen searching for an after-school snack. "do not come in my room. for anything. don't even knock. got it?"

"ick," he said, making a disgusted face at you over the fridge door. "like i want to know what the two of you do behind closed doors."

and with that, you escaped into your room, steve discarding your bag and his keys by the door and immediately climbing into your bed as you changed into sweats. once you were redressed, you crawled under the comforter with him, shifting around for a few moments before finally settling into the perfect position for doing absolutely nothing.

the peaceful bliss lasted all of twenty minutes.

you laid with your head tucked under steve’s chin and his arms wrapped securely around your waist, eyes closed in content as you listened to the older boy describe his day at work. you weren’t falling asleep to his voice, but the sound was distancing you from the day’s previous challenges. that was the thing about steve: he didn’t need to try, but he always remedied a bad day, or brightened a dull one, or calmed a chaotic one.

he was in the middle of a story about his worst customer of the day when the sound of the doorbell ringing through your house interrupted him. your closed bedroom door kept the noise from being too loud, but it was enough of a distraction to make him pause and look to you as you cracked your eyes open in annoyance. "dustin will get it. go ahead, keep talking," you insisted when your eyes met steve's. he nodded, fighting a smile of adoration as he watched you nuzzle a little closer to him and close your eyes again.

just as he inhaled and opened his mouth to continue, the doorbell rang again, three times in a row. a low noise escaped from the back of your throat-- steve would later refer to the sound as a growl-- and flipped over in steve's arms to face your bedroom door. "dustin, get the door!" you yelled, knowing the boy could hear you at that volume regardless of where he was in the house. you hesitated then, making sure the doorbell wasn't going to ring again before looking at steve over your shoulder. "it would be a god damn shame if, after everything we've survived, i was driven to murder dustin over a doorbell."

"i don't think anyone would blame you," steve joked. "anyway, it's probably just a girl scout or something. but i mean, we'll never find out since you forbade dustin from coming in here." before you could ask if he'd rather be hanging out with your little brother than laying in a bed with you, he quickly added, "not that i'm complaining."

you huffed, leaning back until your body made contact with the pillows behind you. steve reached out a hand to grab one of yours, gentling tugging your arm up until it was extended enough for him to kiss the hand as you spoke. "i don't want girl scout cookies. i want an hour to lay in this bed and do absolutely nothing with you before i start to think about how much homework i have to do."

steve let out an exaggerated sigh, still holding your hand to his chin as he looked off into the distance dramatically and shook his head. "i remember when i had homework to do," he said longingly. "seems like it was a hundred years ago."

you laughed heartily, just beginning to call him on his bullshit-- "you never even did your homework, steve!"-- when there were three loud bangs on your bedroom door, followed by a momentary pause, the squeak of the doorknob turning, and a slight gust of air as the door swung open. "what the fuck--"

"is everyone decent? why don't you people answer when someone knocks?" to your complete surprise, it was max. she had one arm tossed over her face to obstruct her view, and her tone was demanding but also slightly playful. when neither you nor steve responded, she peeked over her forearm, confirming that everyone was clothed, and dropped her arm altogether. "of course you're in bed together. what's it been, two months since you two made it official?"

"five months, and we're not doing anything," steve immediately rebuked. he still had his fingers laced through yours, but he'd dropped your clasped hands onto the bed between you when max had burst into the room. "and even if we were, you're not supposed to be here!"

"max," you interjected before the two of them could engage in any more bickering. "i assume dustin told you we were in here and aren't looking for any more company, so what's so important that you put his life in danger by coming in anyway?"

the redhead huffed, dropping her backpack onto the floor beside yours and moving to your desk. she plopped down into the chair, spinning until she was facing you and steve again. "i need advice." again, neither you nor steve responded, both wearing expressions of anticipation as you waited for more details. she rolled her eyes, sighing again before admitting the full truth. "relationship advice."

"oh," you said, once again surprised by the younger girl.

clearly just as dumbfounded as you, steve still needed some clarification. "from us? why us?"

"i don't know, because you guys are, like, totally and completely in love and obsessed with each other and talk about everything and never seem to have any relationship issues?"

"i wouldn't say we never have issues," steve said thoughtfully. "there was that time you slept through our date night and all my phone calls and the sound of me ringing the doorbell eighty times."

"that was an accident! it had been a long day," you whined, whacking steve in the chest when he laughed at you. "okay, well what about the time you got that girl's number in the parking lot when you were picking me up from school?"

"hey, hey, that wasn't my fault! and i told you about it because i didn't want you to think i was--"

"o-kay," max interrupted, clearly running low on patience and not quite in the mood for a recap of all your past relationship drama. "will you guys help me, or not? because if you're too busy cuddling or whatever it is you're doing under that comforter, i'm gonna have to talk to nancy, and that will just be... weird."

you sighed, closing your eyes for a second to reminisce on the past twenty minutes when you'd been alone with steve. it wasn't that you didn't want to help max, or weren't willing to hear her out about her problems; she was like a little sister to you, and you always wanted to be there for her. however, her timing was absolutely horrendous, seeing as all you were currently interested in was looking at and talking to and being near steve. nonetheless, you bit back your selfish desire to send her away and nodded solemnly. "sure, we'll try. what happened?"

and so the next 45 minutes were spent with you, steve, and max having an in-depth conversation about communication and boundaries and compromise in a relationship. you and steve had listened intently to max, his hands busying themselves by gently fiddling with your hair or your fingers as you tried to focus all your attention on the younger girl. (by the end of the explanation, steve felt strongly as though he knew way too much about max and lucas's relationship.) when she finished explaining her fight with lucas, the two of you gave her all the relevant advice you could muster up.

with the right words of wisdom and affirmation, max seemed to relax enough to conquer her initial panic over the situation. a sense of accomplishment washed over you as she stood up and retrieved her backpack, thanking you for your help as she headed for the door. just before she walked out of your room, max paused to take in the sight of you and steve with an indecipherable expression. all she said, in an approving and matter-of-fact tone, was, "you two are cute," and then she was gone, seeming determined to solve her problems with lucas sooner than later.

feeling slightly confused but glad to be alone with your boyfriend once again, you turned in steve's arms to face him with another stunned glance. he smiled down at you, leaning in and kissing you sweetly. against your lips, he muttered, "we are cute."

the following day was friday, and you couldn't have been more excited for a week to end. school had been hellish for you recently, and you hadn't been completely certain that you would survive the week. luckily for you, the universe allowed you to function long enough to fulfill your plans to spend the weekend at steve's house while his parents were away. for obvious reasons, your mom was under the impression that you'd be spending the weekend with robin, but you'd given dustin a heads up on the ride home from school that if he had any sort of supernatural and/or otherworldly emergencies, he'd be able to get a hold of you at steve's.

much like steve had done after work the day before, you rushed home from school to shower and pack a weekend bag. not wanting to waste any extra time by going into his room to have an entire conversation, you called out a quick, "i'm leaving!" to dustin and hopped in your car.

it was a fifteen minute drive from your house to steve's; with a reasonable amount of speeding, you made it there in ten. you could feel your heart twitching in your chest at the thought of how close you were to quality time with your boyfriend as you pulled the keys from the ignition and yanked your bag out of the passenger seat.

the front door of the house was swinging open as you approached the porch, and you and steve were exchanging goofy, excited grins the moment you made eye contact. "hey there, handsome," you called to him. you ascended the small set of stairs and dropped your bag by your feet, stepping into his open arms and feeling yourself relax completely. the anticipation was over, and you were nothing but satisfied to finally be with steve again instead of just looking forward to it.

you retreated from the hug slightly to peer up at steve, earning a grin from him as his eyes met yours. before any words could come out of his mouth, though, his face completely transformed; all traces of his lovesick smile were lost and any endearing greetings were forgotten. his eyes had darted to something behind you, and steve remained frozen with you in his arms. you looked at him quizzically as he stared behind you with his brow furrowed, quickly opting to spin around in his arms to see for yourself what was so shocking.

the sight that met your eyes when you turned was one that made your heart sink to your stomach within a millisecond, panic immediately flooding through your body as your eyes settled on the area steve was staring.

it was dustin.

he was riding his bike as fast as he possibly could-- probably faster than he should-- and you could hear him panting in exhaustion before he'd even rode onto the driveway. he stumbled off the bike clumsily, knocking the kickstand down haphazardly and rushing up the porch steps until he stood right in front of you. "i-- have-- an emergency," dustin said through heavy breaths. he was visibly distraught, covered in sweat but also donning a crazed look in his eye that he reserved for especially urgent moments.

you stepped out of steve's arms then, reaching out and grabbing dustin, turning his face in your hands and scanning his body for injuries as you questioned him. "what's wrong? are you hurt? did something happen?" you couldn't find any external wounds on the boy's exposed skin, nor any rips or tears in his clothes, which was a good sign. still, you were anxious to hear whatever it was that had led your little brother here so soon after you'd left him at home.

he exhaled and inhaled deeply, putting in visible effort to slow his breathing as he looked between you and steve. "it’s suzie— she’s pissed at me,” he said breathily. “we were supposed to talk last night but i totally forgot because i was busy doing my stupid latin homework and then i crashed as soon as i finished it and now she thinks i bailed on her, which is ridiculous, because there’s no one i’d rather talk to than suzie, but still, i’m screwed. i need advice.”

you let your hands fall to your sides, blinking slowly as you took in everything the boy had just rapidly word-vomited to you. you could've been mistaken, but you didn’t think you’d heard anything about supernatural and/or otherworldly attacks. “dustin,” you said blankly. “i told you to call me if you had a real emergency. this… this does not qualify. and even if it did, that’s what phones are for.”

dustin began to protest, saying something about how his love for suzie was otherworldly, but was cut off by steve. “hey, hey, you little butthead. no back-talking to your sister, you hear me?” if you weren’t so frustrated by dustin's interruption, you might’ve smiled at steve’s protective instincts. instead, you raised your hands to your head, massaging two fingers against each of your temples and trying your hardest not to strangle the only sibling you had. as you self-soothed, steve continued to bicker with dustin. “what the hell is with you kids and coming to us for advice, anyway? we’re not running a couples’ therapy service here, you know!"

“yeah, i know that, jackass,” dustin responded sarcastically. the boys each displayed their designated ‘brotherly fighting’ grimaces for a moment, and dustin eventually admitted to what had led him there. “max told me about how you two helped her figure out her shit with lucas. so i thought, i bet my big sister and my old friend could help me out too, but apparently i was wrong. god forbid the two of you spend a little time guiding the youth of the world into adulthood instead of sucking face in a dimly lit room.”

you narrowed your eyes at him threateningly as you responded. “we only helped max because she barged into our house unannounced and guilt tripped us-- kind of like you’re doing right now. has anyone ever told you alone time is essential for a good relationship?”

"look, are you gonna help or not? it's fine if you don't, i'll just have to live forever with the memory that you value max's happiness more than mine even though you don't share a bloodline with her. no big deal."

you took a deep breath, mentally cursing at yourself for your inability to say no to any of those little hyperactive children, and gestured for dustin to follow you and steve into the house. "let's go, my little idiot. and get my bag, too."

you heard dustin murmur something that sounded like the word bullshit but decided to let it go as you followed steve through his front door. dustin was close behind you, still grumbling under his breath as he lugged along your (admittedly, overpacked) duffel bag.

"and, by the way, how the hell did you bike here so fast?"

saturday morning was deemed a rest period for you and steve.

it had taken just over three hours for dustin to leave steve's house the night before. he ended up cooking and eating dinner with you-- which was quite awkward, since steve had decorated two of the table placements to set a romantic atmosphere-- and then helping clean up afterward at your insistence. even once he claimed he was leaving, the boy lingered for another half hour, asking 'clarifying questions' until you finally threatened to call suzie and sort it out yourself. by the time dustin was on his way back home, you and steve felt more like exhausted parents than a teenage couple who had a house to themselves for a weekend. beyond a few loving moments while you got ready for bed together, the remainder of your night was uneventful.

upon waking up the following morning, the two of you moved with the utmost leisure. time was plentiful enough that you let steve try--and fail, as you knew he would-- to make you pancakes before you properly remade the batch for the both of you. once you'd both finished eating, steve convinced you to hop in the shower with him for a little morning reset.

at one point during your time in the shower, you both heard steve's landline ringing from the room over. you'd pouted and asked if he needed to answer it, but he brushed off the idea immediately, claiming, "if it rings again, i'll answer." the phone let out a few more rings before falling silent again; once it stopped, you and steve completely forgot it had rung in the first place.

around fifteen minutes later, you'd both exited the shower and were back in steve's room. you were in one of his t-shirts and a pair of pajama shorts, propped on the bed as you watched steve move about the room. the sweatpants hanging from his hips were all he'd dressed himself in, not having bothered with putting on a shirt, and he was doing every simple task from tossing dirty laundry into a hamper to spritzing cologne on himself to rubbing a towel into his hair to dry it off.

"okay, sweetheart," he said, suddenly stopping at the foot of the bed to face you directly. "what's the plan for the day?"

you let out a whine, dramatically flopping backwards on the bed into a laying position. "i don't want to do anything today." steve laughed at the claim, trailing around the side of the bed and crouching down until his face was level with yours. when you met his stare and saw the disbelieving smile playing his mouth, your expression shifted to something more of a stern pout. "i'm serious, harrington. my plan of action is me, you, and this bed for at least 60% of the day."

"hm, that doesn't sound too bad," steve said ponderously, reaching out a hand to brush back the hair framing your face as he feigned thought. "60% of the day; how long is that? 13, 14 hours?" steve was standing as he spoke then, gradually shifting positions until he was sitting on the bed with his face hovering a few inches from yours. "i can think of a few good ways to pass the time, if you need some ideas."

you leaned forward the slightest amount, your head lifting off the pillow just enough to goad steve into closing the remainder of the gap between you. his mouth pressed against yours, lips slipping into place so naturally that steve couldn't even remember what it was like to not be kissing you. within a few seconds, he wasn't sure whether or not he was breathing anymore; if he wasn't, though, he was sure that you were doing it for him in some magical way that only a soulmate could. there were no thoughts in his mind aside from you, and how you tasted like the toothpaste he kept in his bathroom and smelled like his body wash mixed with your lavender shampoo and how your skin felt like home underneath the old t-shirt you'd grabbed from his dresser and how much he loved you. as far as he was concerned, the rest of the world had fallen away for the time being and there was no one or nothing else, not even gravity holding you down or stars floating in the sky. you wanted the day alone with him, and, yes, steve was very much willing to spend the rest of his day doing nothing but kissing you.

neither of you were sure how much time had passed by the time steve made the effort to slip your shirt up your body. he used the hands he had resting on your hips to push the fabric upward, and only paused to trace his thumbs over the bare skin of your chest, a sensation that made you part your lips and gasp lightly. a low chuckle escaped from steve's mouth-- his natural response to getting any sort of rise out of you-- and he moved to lift the shirt over your head. just as you shifted forward to help him out a little, a shrill sound was blaring from steve's bedside table.

the phone was ringing again.

steve pulled away from you, prompting yet another whine to make its way past your lips. "sorry, babe. just a sec, i swear." his hands slid back down your sides as he apologized, fully disentangling himself from you and moving to answer the phone. "hello?"

you muttered something snarky under your breath as he engaged in conversation, tugging the t-shirt back down and crossing your arms in annoyance. yes, steve had said that he'd pick up the phone if it rang a second time, but you'd kind of assumed that the idea of getting you naked twice before even leaving the house was something he would've been more invested in than taking a phone call.

a tiny voice in the back of your head was scolding you for being mad, reminding you not to blame steve for the lack of privacy you two got. it wasn't like he wanted to be interrupted every time he got you alone. it was just the way things went with a friend group that functioned so much like a family; everyone wanted to get a hold of mom and dad for one reason or another.

you glanced over at the brown-haired boy in an attempt to distract yourself with the forever-entertaining activity of admiring him, but the expression he now wore made it kind of difficult to focus. his eyes had widened and his brows raised, and the 'o' shape of his mouth immediately told you that he'd just heard something startling and, most likely, disruptive. before you could ask who it was or get close enough to overhear the other person's voice, steve was speaking again. "i-- yes, i heard you! jesus christ," he said rashly. his tone of voice narrowed the list of potential callers down to one of your close friends; if you had to guess, you would've put your money on it being dustin again. "okay, fine. i just need a while to confirm. yeah, yeah, robin. i'll call you back in five minutes. bye."

"robin?" you asked when steve looked at you again. "why are you confirming something with robin in the next five minutes, steve?"

"well, apparently we both forgot," he started to explain, putting emphasis on the reminder that you, too, had the same lapse in memory as he did. "but the plan for today is actually to hang out with robin!"

you opened your mouth to deny his claim, only to spontaneously recall exactly what steve was talking about. instead of speaking, you dropped your head into your hands and let out a pitiful groan. "i can't believe i forgot about that."

it had slipped both your mind and steve's, but robin had indeed insisted that you both spend a day with her that weekend, and you'd all settled on saturday. part of her justification, which you'd deemed valid earlier in the week when steve wasn't milliseconds from taking off your clothes, was that she 'hadn't spent enough quality time with the two of you outside of work and school during the last few weeks.' the other part, which steve consciously chose not to relay to you, was that she 'needed to revive her hope in true love by being around your true love, which is the truest love she's ever seen.' mostly, steve didn't ever want to repeat that sentence due to how ridiculously dramatic and mushy it was. on top of that, though, steve knew you, and he knew that you hated being the center of attention. having your friend surveil and analyze everything you and steve did was a surefire way to drive you absolutely insane. you wanted to be able to fly under the radar sometimes; not to be invisible, necessarily, but just to blend into the background of a moment without your actions being spotlighted. so, in order to prevent you from feeling any impending dread before or during your time with robin, steve decided to spare you that one detail.

peeking out from behind your hands, you met eyes with steve. "do you think we could get out of it?"

scrunching his nose, steve shook his head lightly. your head slid back behind your hands in response, and steve sighed. "unfortunately, i think the longer we put it off, the worse it'll be when we finally do it. i mean, you know i love robin, but she's pretty obsessive." when you didn't react to words, he reached out and grabbed your wrists, gently pulling on them until you submitted and dropped your hands altogether. once your face was exposed again, steve's hands found his way onto either side of your head and he leaned in close before speaking again. "if you really don't want to go, i'll call her back and cancel. she'll have to get over it eventually."

for a few seconds, you just looked at steve. it seemed like a second chance at the effort you'd made a few minutes earlier; there was a lot to admire about him, and in just a moment you were able to take it all in and soak in how much you loved him. without thinking, you suddenly careened forward and pressed your mouth to steve's hastily. he was visibly surprised by the display of affection when you withdrew, which earned him an amused smile and another peck on the lips. "call robin back and tell her we'll be at her house in half an hour."

and so, the plan to spend the day in bed went down the drain.

"you're sure you're not mad at me?"

"no, steve, i'm not mad at you. i'm mad at everyone else."

it was the next day, and the likelihood of you finally being alone with steve for more than twenty minutes at a time was beginning to feel more and more unrealistic. (sure, the two of you were currently alone in his kitchen, but you wouldn't have been surprised if you blinked and suddenly another person was in the room with you too.) the last three consecutive days had been tainted with your friends' problems, and the inability to turn any of them away was officially impeding your happiness. you'd thought you were doing a decent job of keeping your dissatisfaction hidden from steve, but the questions he began asking on sunday morning clearly proved otherwise. so, not only were you gradually losing your composure, but steve was also noticing how on edge you were feeling.

"is this about what robin said last night?" you glared at him from across the kitchen table, a pointless attempt to scare steve into dropping the subject. instead of shying away as you'd hoped he would, he gave you a knowing look and continued to press the matter. "we both know it is, so why don't you just admit it?"

"fine, steve," you said harshly, crossing your arms and leaning back in the wooden chair you were sitting in. "i'm mad because robin basically said that we're not significant as individuals and that us being a couple is the most interesting thing about either one of us. are you happy now?"

he sighed, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. "that's not what she said, y/n. you know she doesn't actually think that."

"maybe not consciously," you argued. "but the only thing she thinks about when she sees one of us is that we're dating the other. ever since we told them we're together, everyone just thinks we're, like, some token flawless soulmate couple that never has problems and never needs to spend actual alone time together because, 'their relationship is already so perfect!' and yeah, i love you more than i ever imagined i could love another person, and i don't ever plan on losing you because you are my soulmate. but that doesn't mean i don't need you to take me on dates sometimes, or spend an afternoon doing nothing in bed, or whatever else stupid fleeting high school relationships are about, because i do! but, no, we can't have any time for any of that because everyone just wants us to exist near them so they can have their faith in love restored and have us magically give them all the answers to being in a relationship."

there was a brief pause when you stopped rambling; steve wasn't completely sure if you were finished with your monologue, and he knew better than to interrupt when you were on a verbal warpath. he was certain you were done soon enough, and a rush a guilt accompanied the words he carefully selected in reply. "i knew they were getting on your nerves, but i didn't realize it was bothering you this much."

it was you who sighed this time, feeling your own shudder of guilt as you processed the upset tone in steve's voice. "i didn't want you to realize it. i was hoping they would eventually ease up a little, but it turns out they're just as invasive now as they were before we were official, and it doesn't seem to be getting any better."

"what can i do?" steve asked, moving around the table and toward you. within a moment he was standing beside you, and you had to tilt your head slightly upward to clearly see his face. "i know you said you're not mad at me, but i still feel guilty about you feeling this way and not being able to talk to me about it."

"i should've talked to you about it," you admitted. "i know i could've, and i feel better now that i have. i just didn't want to complain about them, because they're our friends, and my little brother, and i am glad they trust us enough to talk about their problems with us. but sometimes i just want to be with you. only you. does that make sense?"

he smiled at you softly, reaching out and pushing your hair away from your face. "yeah, that makes sense." his hand dropped down to your shoulder and slid halfway down your upper arm. "just try not to be mad at them, y/n," steve gently insisted. "you know they mean the best. christ, they can save the world time and time again, but they're not too great at just being normal. i just don't think they really get it. i mean, dustin and max are basically just kids, and robin is... hyperactive. they know you care about whatever they have to complain about, so you're the first person they want to tell. and it just so happens that i'm always with you when they come around. they don't really consider any other factors."

suddenly your brow was furrowing, and you were slowly shaking your head. "no, i don't think that's it."

"you think they're intentionally venting to you just so they can get on your nerves?"

"no, not that. what you said about them wanting to tell me things and you just happening to be there. that's not true." steve was clearly uncertain of what point you were trying to make. his hand fell from your arm as he tried to process what you were getting at. instinctually, your hand was grabbing his again as you fought back a smile at how unknowing he was; he really had no idea how the people he loved so dearly saw him. "those kids love you, steve. and you're robin's best friend. yeah, they want to tell me about whatever's going on in their lives, but they want to tell you just as badly."

steve's expression transformed from clueless to appeased in the blink of an eye. he grinned at you foolishly, giving your hand a squeeze. "you think so?"

you couldn't help but laugh, a boisterous sound that filled steve's heart to the brim with adoration. "yes, steve, i think so."

sparing a moment to admire you as you caught your breath from laughing, steve leaned down to press his mouth to yours sweetly. when he pulled back a few seconds later, you grabbed onto his shirt, using the fabric to guide his lips back to yours again. you kissed him until you felt a little lightheaded in the way only steve could make you. even then, you kept him close. his face was only a few millimeters from yours when you locked eyes with him, and he flashed you another grin. "my parents' flight won't be in until late tonight. wanna go back upstairs?"

you flashed him a smile of your own, kissing him chastely before standing from your chair. "we're definitely going back upstairs."

he began to lead you out of the kitchen, moving swiftly toward the stairs that led to his bedroom. to no one's surprise, his movements were halted when the sound of the landline ringing was echoing through the room. you could faintly hear the same sound traveling downstairs from steve's room. he looked back at you, wearing the look of a deer caught in headlights as he tried to decode your expression. you dropped your head onto his shoulder, eyes falling shut as you released a giggle. at this point, all you could do was laugh. "we're cursed, stevie."

in a sudden shift of emotions, steve recomposed himself and took a step toward the ringing phone. you looked to him in surprise, but knew he had no intentions of explaining his plan to you beforehand. in response to your joking comment about being cursed, he said, "not if i can help it." then he snatched the phone off the hook and uttered a quick greeting. his eyes closed momentarily as he listened intently to the voice on the other line. (it was lucas this time, calling with what felt like a centuries-old request for advice from you and steve.) you laughed at his intense concentration, using the hand that wasn't wrapped in steve's to cover your mouth and stifle any sound. "nope!" steve was suddenly shouting into the phone. "i'm not available, and she's not available. unless you want to deal with me, try again tomorrow. get on your stupid walkie and tell that to everyone else, too! don't call back!" and with that, he slammed the phone back onto its hook.

"wow," you said through yet another laugh. "i thought you said we shouldn't be mad at them?"

"yeah, we shouldn't be mad. that doesn't mean we should be nice when they call." by then, you' were'd begun guiding steve along the path through his house to the stairs. clearly, he'd handled the issue of being interrupted for the day, so there was no good reason not to follow through on your plans to head upstairs. "they're worse than the god damn telemarketers."

"agreed," you said, turning the final corner and starting to head up the carpeted steps. "they're lucky we have better things to do than spending the day yelling at them."

"much better things to do," steve echoed as he cheerfully followed you up the stairs. "but they still might include some yelling."

needless to say, the phone didn't ring again for the rest of the day.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington blurb

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soapoet · 1 year ago

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W.I.T.C.H. pick-a-card reading

Irma Lair; your gifts

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: John my beloved by Sufjan Stevens

you probably already know this, and have heard it time after time, but you're very sensitive. not in a bad way, except when it overwhelms you and drains all your energy, but you are insanely intuitive. you may struggle a lot with your faith in humanity. one day you're snuggled up in bed sobbing over compilations of human kindness, then the next you log on twitter and declare humanity irredeemable. and worst of all you feel so alone. it's frustrating feeling like those around you go through the motions of life seemingly unaffected by the constant eldrich horrors around every corner. you know that it's not that they don't care, but sometimes you might secretly wish you could have a sip of whatever it is that's numbing them down. finding supportive and understanding friends to surround yourself with is important to your well-being because harsh words and criticism can bruise you harder than most. this sensitivity may sometimes feel more like a burden than a gift, but i assure you that there's a lot of positives to it.

you are naturally inclined to do well with energy healing and may develop clairvoyance on top of your already prominent clairsentience, and quickly learn how to wield these abilities. your compassionate nature makes you a very good source of comfort and support for others and you're able to gently guide others in a way that isn't intrusive, so many would flock to you for advice if you opened up shop as an emotional support human of some kind. be sure to safeguard your own energy and do as much or as little as you want and can when you hone your skills should you decide to practice any kind of divination or spiritual practice. even outside of more spiritual things you'd make good use of your gifts in teaching, psychology, or medicine. you put people at ease and it's easy for others to get attached to your energy, and you just as easily get a little too invested from time to time, so be sure to keep your boundaries clear and take plenty of time for yourself to recharge and ground yourself.

02.

Shufflemancy: Brittle bones Nicky by Rare Americans

some call it chaos, you call it fun. you have a knack for entertaining a crowd. even if you're shy around people you don't know well enough, those closest to you know you best for your creative genius. you're an engaging communicator and storyteller, and have a lot of ideas swirling around your brain. you really should get some of it out before you get dizzy. you'd make a terrific writer, artist, a performer, or public speaker. yes, even if that last one made your stomach churn a little. you're very likeable and fun, and you'd draw a lot of attention if you just put yourself out there. lots of people could use your zest for life and learn a lot from the stories you could tell, whether real or fictional.

music, cinema, theatre, story driven games, and literature may be things you find a lot of joy in. you're inclined to develop clairaudience, and you may already notice auditory cues and coincidences more than most, and find a lot of guidance and motivation from the music you listen to or from your own inner monologues that lead to aha moments. are you afraid of the spotlight? not sure where to start? if what's stopping you from pursuing your wildest dreams is a jumbled mess of what ifs and lists of things you need to perfect and reconfigure and practice until your face turns blue, stop. you're already good at cartwheeling your way through life, talking yourself in and out of things and thinking on your feet, so you absolutely got what it takes to just go, and figure out the minute details along the way.

03.

Shufflemancy: Pavlov's daughter by Regina Spektor

people usually hire staff to do all that you're able to do all on your own. you're very well-rounded. a jack of all trades, perhaps? you're intelligent, practical, and very creative. you'd make a great entrepreneur because you're such a hardworker once you set your sight on something you want to achieve. you seem to have a deep trust in your own strength and abilities. you're emotionally strong and very independent. freedom is likely a big motivator for you, and being your own boss sounds very appealing to you. you're claircognizant and just seem to know what needs to be done and also get things done. you're an incredible taskmaster and do well with organising your thoughts and ideas and solving problems that pop up.

manifestations must come easily to you, unless your ties to the 3d and a distinct flair of realism and tendency to 'believe it when you see it' holds you back from having faith. but there is nothing you couldn't do, and those limitations should be easy enough for you to clear. i mean, look at everything you've already done and what you're capable of when you decide that what you want is what you get! make sure to rest plenty, though. you're often at risk of burnout because you strive when you have things to do and may have a hard time kicking back to relax when you could be spending that time doing something. even your hobbies align with your goals or fit right into your resume, so do try to find something to do that isn't so much about chasing accolades as it is simply enjoying yourself for the sake of pure enjoyment.

#pac reading #pick a card #pick a picture #w.i.t.c.h.#spiritual guidance #tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a card reading #soapy.post #shufflemancy #spirituality #energy reading

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levithestripper · 1 year ago

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Wanna Bet?

summary:

“Jesse’s hands meet your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your clothing. ‘That’s a lotta big talk there, baby. Want to put money where your mouth is?’ You smirk, putting on a show of pretending to think it over. ‘I’m game. I bet you’ll go to every single class and love it.’”

or, Jesse wants to take a woodworking class, and you propose a bet.

warnings: gender-neutral reader

length: 2.1k || read on ao3

notes: this has been sitting in my drafts for god knows how long, i hope you enjoy it!

Sharing his rented condo with you is everything Jesse could ask for and more. Having moved in a handful of months ago, the two of you were settling in nicely, making a good home for yourselves. With you around, Jesse regained something he lost when he began cooking with Mr. White: a sense of normalcy. Never having been in a committed, long-term relationship before you came along, this newfound feeling of stability in his chaotic life was a godsend. Gaining a new safe place allowed Jesse to discover new things about himself. He finds himself doing things he never used to enjoy, like watching sitcoms and cheesy made-for-television movies.

But if Jesse was forced to pick one thing he likes most about living with you, he’d pick watching you do the things you love. He doesn’t know what it is about watching you put together a puzzle or draw in your sketchbook; it just fills him with insane amounts of joy. It lit a fire under him, inspiring Jesse to rekindle the old hobbies of his childhood, specifically woodworking. The thought of returning to woodworking excited him yet filled him with anxiety at the same time. After a week of keeping his worries to himself, Jesse asks for your advice over dinner one night.

“Yo, so I was thinking—”

You snort, interrupting him, “No wonder I smelled smoke earlier.”

Jesse makes a face at you, rolling his eyes. “Oh, shut up. Anyways, as I was saying, I was thinking about taking up woodworking again.” He broke your gaze, looking down as he picked at the food on his plate. “What do you think?”

You hum with a mouthful of food, finishing your dinner. “I think that’s a great idea, love. You said you were good at it in high school, right?”

He nods, still picking at his food. “You think I’ll uh… you think I’ll still like it?”

“What? Of course, you’ll still like it! Why wouldn’t you?”

Jesse sighs, slowly finishing his dinner, stalling for time. He mumbles something unintelligible, regretting bringing it up.

Being practically fluent in Jesse-ese, you sensed something was up, not like it was hard to notice. You knew there was no use in trying to pry whatever was wrong out of him, so you didn’t waste time trying. Instead, you take a different approach. “Jess, I can’t blame you for being worried. You’re stepping out of your comfort zone; that’s hard for anyone to do.” You reach across the breakfast bar and grab his hand, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. “If anyone can do it, it’s you; I believe in you.”

“Thank you, baby.” Jesse offers you a small but sweet smile, which you happily mirror. “You’re sure ‘bout this?”

You kiss each of his knuckles, making him chuckle like always. “One hundred percent sure. When am I ever wrong?”

He raises an eyebrow, teasing you. “You really wanna go there, sweetheart?” Jesse’s confidence returns quickly, his anxiety curbed by your words.

You get up from your chair and walk to his side of the counter, sitting on his lap, arms draped over his shoulders. “Mmm, I don’t know, maybe I do. After all, I am always right.”

Jesse’s hands meet your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your clothing. “That’s a lotta big talk there, baby. Want to put money where your mouth is?”

You smirk, putting on a show of pretending to think it over. “I’m game. I bet you’ll go to every single class and love it.”

“And what do you want if you win?” he asks, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. His hands migrated from your hips to your back, sliding under your shirt.

The unexpected sensation of cold hands touching your skin made you shiver, only fueling the fire you had lit within Jesse. “When I win, you mean.”

“Yeah, whatever, babe, just tell me what you want if you win,” he replies, a smug look on his face.

“When I win, I want you to make me something with the skills you learned from the classes.” Your fingers twist the short hair on the back of his neck into points. The tingly feeling ran up the base of Jesse’s skull, pulling a shiver from him; revenge for touching you with freezing hands.

Jesse grumbles at you in a half-hearted attempt to appear apathetic, but you see right through it with practiced ease. “If I win, which I will, you have to do whatever I say for twenty-four hours straight.”

“Deal, but your demands must be within reason.”

“Deal.” Jesse tugs you down for a kiss, sealing the bet with a smug grin.

———

Once he found a co-op offering free beginner’s lessons, Jesse signed up for two months of classes. Every Friday night after dinner, Jesse kissed you goodbye before leaving for the co-op, never hinting that you were winning the bet. And he hated it, hated how you were right—like always. Jesse had forgotten how rewarding it is to create things. It took nearly all his self-control to keep himself from living at the woodworking studio. He revels in every moment he gets to spend there, questioning why he ever quit in the first place.

As weeks pass, your excitement grows as you wonder what Jesse could be working on. You’re hopeful he’ll bring a project home with him, but it never happens. Every Friday night, a routine forms between you, beginning with dinner in front of the television. As he’s getting ready to leave, Jesse kisses you on the forehead and says, “See you in a couple hours; love you.”

Every week, you ask how it went, and Jesse replies eagerly, happily talking about what he learned. But when you inquire about what he was working on, all you get is a variation of, “Nah, it’s nothing special. Don’t wanna bore you by talking about it. It’s coming along nicely, though.” Jesse’s uncharacteristic defensiveness plants a seed of worry within you. You hope that his reasoning for brushing off your inquiries was that he was nervous to show you his work, nothing else.

———

Moonlight filtered in through the living room curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow. You sat at the breakfast bar, working on something unimportant, the TV playing in the background. The front door opened, quickly drawing your attention away from your laptop. You stand to greet Jesse at the door, but he beats you to it, rushing over to the counter to give you a kiss. Fumbling with the TV remote, you turn it off, far more interested in your boyfriend. “How was your last day? Finish everything you were working on?” you ask, sitting back down.

Jesse sat down across from you, nodding as he did. “Yeah. Place had a real great vibe to it, you know?” He gnaws on his bottom lip, eyes flitting between you and his lap. “Might sign up for a higher level class. Haven’t done this since high school; I forgot how much I enjoyed it.”

A loving smile spreads across your features. “I’m proud of you, baby. Wish I could’ve seen the pieces you made.” You don’t miss the subtle blush that dusts itself over Jesse’s face, the sight making your heart flutter. There’s a pause between you two, and you’re quick to fill the heavy silence. “You know I’d never make fun of you or your work, regardless of how good or bad it is, right?” You take his hand to reassure him, worried he didn’t bring anything home for fear of criticism.

Giving your hand a squeeze, Jesse fixes his posture, leaning against the counter instead of slouching. “I’m sorry I’ve been so secretive about,” he motions with his free hand, “all this.” He scratches his head through the black and yellow beanie covering his hair. “I know you never would—” Jesse stammers, “��would be scared to show you anything.” You sigh with relief, Jesse’s words lifting a weight off your chest.

“Then why did you hide your enjoyment from me?” you ask, sadness laced throughout your words.

Your question pulls on Jesse’s heartstrings, only now realizing how his actions had affected you. He squeezes your hand again, kissing your knuckles apologetically. “Close your eyes, and I’ll explain?” he offers, pulling out the big guns: his patent pending puppy dog eyes.

You look him once over before complying, wondering what he has up his sleeve this time. Whatever Jesse was doing, he was quick about it as you were opening your eyes after what felt like mere seconds of having them closed. The first thing you see is your boyfriend nervously fidgeting with the drawstring of his hoodie and chewing on his bottom lip. The second thing you see is a small trinket box. It’s stained a deep, rich color and sanded to such perfection that you could almost see your reflection. You look at the box, then at Jesse, silently asking permission to touch it, which he gave. Gently opening the lid, you saw the inside was patterned with a different style of wood, something striped to contrast the solid color on the exterior. “Oh, Jesse,” you whisper with awe, “This is beautiful, a work of art.” Your fingers trace the edges as you take in his stunning craftsmanship. “Is this what you’ve been working on the whole time?”

Jesse nods, still playing with his hoodie’s drawstrings. “Took forever to get it just right. The inside is zebra wood; I had to wait a week for it to get restocked. Made one like this back in high school. Loved it more than anything; even my parents liked it. Everyone said I should gift it to my mom,” he pauses, needing a moment. “I almost did, too. But I traded it. Barely got twenty bucks of pot for it.” Jesse shook his head as if he were dismissing the bad memories from view. “But that’s not why I remade it.”

Engrossed in his story, you do your best to reign over your emotions, rubbing your eyes free of tears. “Why did you remake it then?”

Jesse motions for you to turn the box upside down, which you do. “Your answer is on the bottom.”

Looking at the underside of the box, you find words—along with the year—carved into the woodwork.

Thank you for believing in me ♡

—J

Once he’s sure you’ve read it, Jesse continues talking. “Remade it so I could finally have the chance to gift it to someone I love.” He meets your gaze for the first time since he revealed your present.

You got up from your chair without saying a word, rushing around the breakfast bar to pull your boyfriend into a near-bone-crushing hug. “What did I do to deserve someone as perfect as you?” you ask rhetorically, face buried in his neck. “I don’t even know where to begin; I love it so much.” Jesse wraps his arms around your midsection, hugging you impossibly tighter. He peppers soft kisses over your cheek and jawline, holding you close to his chest.

“I should be the one asking that, little bird. You have no clue how nervous I was, worried you wouldn’t like it or it wouldn’t turn out how I wanted it to,” Jesse sighed against your skin, and you could feel all that anxiety he spoke of leaving his body. “Not mad at me?”

You can’t help but giggle as you lift your head from his shoulder. “Not mad. Although, I’m not used to you being so lovey-dovey and mushy like this. Kinda like it, if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jesse rolls his eyes with a smirk. No matter how badly he tried to hide his amusement, you could tell he liked it, too. He moves a hand to your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. One kiss turned into two, three, four, all soft and full of stupid amounts of love. Jesse squeezes you tightly once more before releasing you. “Just wait; you’ll like what I make next even more.”

“Oh yeah? You sound pretty confident about that,” you smirk, tugging teasingly on the ends of his hoodie.

Jesse bit his lip, looking up at you with a glint in his eyes. “Oh yeah, you wanna put your money where your mouth is?” he snarks back, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your neck. He uses his newfound leverage to drag you back in for another kiss, only this one has the heat of a promise behind it the previous ones did not.

A promise of a long, sleepless night for both of you.

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