#i felt crappy today so i wrote this fic

[tumbleweed-writes]

Now That I Have You: Chibs Telford X OC Fic. Chapter One

This was the very first fic I wrote for this fandom like a million years ago. I'm currently giving it a rewrite/edit on A03, but thought I'd post it as I'm editing in case anyone wanted to check it out. Not sure it's my best work but it was my first.

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Molly Garrett let out a sigh pure irritation taking over as she turned the key in her little rundown blue Volkswagen bug. The ignition sputtered a few times as the car struggled to come to life.

Her honey blonde bangs hung in her dark eyes, damp from the heat of California sun and her lack of air conditioner. She struggled to bring her sad old car to life grumbling under her breath.

"Shit." She blurted out as the car sputtered a few more times refusing to start up. She widened her eyes realizing the word that had just slipped out of her mouth.

She glanced in her review mirror looking at the little boy strapped into the backseat clutching a Spiderman action figure.

Cursing wasn't exactly a good habit to have in front of a five year old boy who would more than likely pick up on the impolite language.

"Sorry baby. Don't say ever say that word okay." She apologized not surprised that the boy didn't respond to her.

Mason hadn't spoken in days. This entire situation hadn't been easy on either one of them.

Thinking about how frightened her little guy was made her want to break down. Her son was the most important thing in her life. Mason was her world.

She closed her eyes holding back the tears; she had sobbed enough in the past few years for a lifetime. Her son needed her to stay strong.

Molly let out a laugh feeling a small victory as her poor little bug finally came to life. She took a final glance in the review mirror making sure that Mason had remembered to fasten his seatbelt.

She smiled at the sight of the family dog sitting up beside Mason, a little fat female pug named Rocket. The poor dog was panting just as hot as her masters.

Molly made sure the coast was clear hoping that she could see as well as she thought she could around the small Uhaul trailer. The uhaul was hitched to the back of her bug blocking most of her view. She said a small prayer as she pulled out of the McDonalds' parking lot.

They had to eat cheap for this road trip, so cheap burgers and fries had been on the menu for days now. Luckly there was a McDonalds everywhere and that was often the easiest thing to get a five year old to eat.

She felt a little irresponsible letting Mason eat so much unhealthy food, but she reminded herself that it was just for this trip. As soon as they got settled she could get him back on a more well rounded diet.

Today all she'd managed to get down for lunch was a crappy salad and an iced tea. It had been the cheapest thing on the menu. At least Mason had eaten all of his chicken nuggets though. It seemed to be his favorite food and she'd hoped that it would cheer him up.

It would be okay, she reminded herself. Once they got to California and she was able to start her new job at Saint Thomas then everything would come together.

Charming, California seemed to be the perfect place to start anew. She'd sent in her application to several hospitals all over the country, but Charming had caught her eye and much to her relief the local hospital there had hired her on the spot with just a phone interview.

She'd chosen her new home partially for the name; Charming. It was silly she knew picking a home because of its name, but what better place than to start a new life than in a place called Charming?

At twenty seven years old, Molly Garrett finally felt like she was starting her life on her own terms.

She had faith that it would be a better life; a safer life for her son and her. She hoped and prayed that it would be a life that would hopefully be free of the violence they'd both long endured.

She'd escaped an almost six long years in a marriage from hell with a man who hit first and asked questions later.

Brian Parker had seemed like a sweet guy at first, Molly and he had met in college both in their final year. He had swept her off of her feet and had seemed to be a good match for her.

She'd been impressed by her husband when they first met. She's felt like he was a practical prince thanks to his affluence and his gentlemanly charm. She was just a poor girl on scholarship who had grown up in a trailer right outside of New Orleans with a single working mother and two siblings. She had come from so little and Brian had come from so much in comparison.

Brian came from a nice wealthy family; he had a promising future at a job at a nice well-established real estate firm. The job was at a firm that his family had owned for years. He'd grown up with privilege and he'd been so willing to share that privilege with Molly. He'd showered her with gifts and promises.

He had promised her a comfortable life with a nice safe home and a future full of children and maybe someday grandchildren. She could admit she'd been blinded by both the promises and the presents he'd bestowed upon her. He'd made her feel so special to be worthy of such expensive nice things. He'd given her jewelry and nice shopping sprees. It was more than she'd ever known. She felt like a fool looking back seeing how he'd showered her with such things and love bombed her as a way to lure her in

Two months after dating Brian, Molly had become pregnant. Soon after she'd found out she was carrying his child, they'd gotten married. She had been so excited starting a life with a man who she was sure would protect her from all of life's horrors.

It had turned out though that the only horror she would have to fear would be her husband.

The violence hadn't started until Mason was two. No he hadn't been always kind to her before that but it was the first time he'd put his hands on her at least in a violent act. He'd been belittling to her up until that point and sex had at times felt like something she was pressured into. She'd always blamed herself for his verbal abuse and had been in denial about the lack of consent in some of their sexual acts. She'd told herself she was ungrateful and horrible to deny him and when he'd insulted her she'd believed that it was her fault. She'd been taught to believe that she was so less worthy than him. She'd been conditioned to think that she was just the poor piece of trailer trash that he'd given an opportunity to rise above her station. When he lashed out at her, she told herself that it was her fault. The act of physical violence had stunned her.

Molly had excused the violence the first time it'd happened. She'd made excuses for her husband.

She'd tried to tell herself that Brian was under a lot of stress; his temper had just gotten the better of him. His father was his boss and he was the prodigal son expected to be a model employee and that wasn't easy when he was trying to support a young family.

Brian had apologized to her, promised her it would never happen again, but he'd lied. It seemed that his temper got the better of him over and over again. Soon the physical abuse was as just as regular of an occurrence and the emotional and sexual violence

It was the same cycle over and over again. He would apologize and claim he was a changed man or worst convince her that it had all been her fault really. When she thought about leaving he'd lure her back in. She would come back to him hoping against hope that this time would be different. It was insanity she knew; believing that each time would be different. Wasn't that the definition of insanity though; doing the same action over and over again expecting a different result?

She knew that she should have left the second Brian hit her but she'd been blinded by naïvety and a poor sense of self worth. Honestly she knew she should have been out the door the second he started to mistreat her verbally. She'd been blinded by him though. It felt as though she'd been under a spell.

Brian had killed her self-esteem telling her that no man would ever love her like him. No man would ever want her especially after she'd had a kid. She was his and that was that. He reminded her of how lucky she was; how privileged she was to have the life he provided.

Molly had had believed him for three long years. She'd hidden it all from family and friends and from Mason as well. She had played a happy loving wife pretending that her life was just peachy with her adorable son in her husband's nice old house.

Her breaking point had been when Brian had struck her in front of her baby. He'd had a long day at work and she'd made a mistake in his eyes by not having dinner waiting on the table when he got home.

Her brother had discovered the bruises on her body. Jack Garrett was no fool. Her brother knew about the violence and he'd tried to talk his baby sister into leaving time and time again. He'd even threatened to call the police.

Molly had finally started to see the light after that beating, and had started to listen to her brother. She had enlisted him in helping her leave, helping her find a job far away.

Brian found out about her plans to leave somehow, he had made her pay for ever thinking about leaving him. Bruising her body and cracking one of her ribs.

The abuse that night had been severe more severe than it had ever been. Mason had witnessed the entire thing.

The boy had witnessed his mother on the floor crying begging him to go upstairs and play. He'd watched as she'd cried out telling him that it was all okay when it clearly wasn't.

The boy had been silent since that night. Her body still ached from the violence her soon to be ex-husband had put her through.

It was as though a light switch had gone off in her brain when the violence had ended. She'd looked in the mirror studying her battered body when it hit her; she knew that she couldn't live like this. This wasn't a way to live; it was a way to die. If she stayed she would die and if she died her child would be left without his mother to protect him.

She had to save her baby from this life and from his father. She had no doubt that without her there to protect Mason, that Brian would turn the violence onto his child. He was already neglectful of the boy at best. Without her there to shield her child the anger Brian had inside him would have nowhere to find an outlet other than his son.

The morning after that beating, Molly's sister Candace had helped her pack up her things while Brian was at work. The two women had stuffed what little she had into a Uhaul trailer. She had left setting out west that night leaving her old life behind without a trace.

Candace had wanted her to stay in New Orléans, but Molly knew that she couldn't stay in Louisiana. The only way Mason and she would be safe would be if they disappeared.

That had been a week ago. Molly and Mason had been on the road for a week now and we're finally right outside of Charming heading for the rental home she'd recently signed the lease on.

The little house wouldn't be much; just a tiny two-bedroom house with one bathroom and a kitchenette and joined living area. It was dainty but in a quiet neighborhood.

Jack had found the rental for her; he'd been the one responsible for setting up her new life, arranging her lease and cosigning for her. She just hoped that someday she'd be able to find a way to repay her big brother. The home would not be much but it would be hers and that made it feel like a dream come true.

The little rental property was a big step down from the sprawling old plantation home that Brian and she had lived in for years. It had been in his family for decades a grand home that she had been so entranced by when they'd first married.

The people she knew had all been so jealous of her life; not realizing that it was a lie. Behind the old glorious home and fine lifestyle, it had been years of pain and fear.

She just hoped that the fear was over. The pain had to be over and it could never happen again, she told herself.

This was a new life. She knew that she had to make it work, not just for her but for Mason. Her baby boy deserved a good happy life. They both were worthy of a good life.

———————-

Molly rushed to get Mason ready for his first day of daycare. It was summer time so he wouldn't be able to start school for a few more months at least.

So for now the hospital's daycare would have to do. She had managed to land a job as a phlebotomist.

People were often a little freaked out once they found out that she drew blood for a living. She used to joke that she was the resident hospital vampire at her old job in Louisiana. She was always amazed Brian had even allowed her to maintain a job back home. She guessed he liked the way her job made him look. He'd been able to brag that his wife worked in healthcare and was so giving and kind. Her accomplishments at work made him sound better to those he wanted to impress. He'd been able to present them as a hardworking couple successful in their own careers. It was a career she loved. She knew now that her career was hers alone. She had worked hard for it. She was responsible for her accomplishments. Brian didn't get to take credit for her hard work.

She knelt down in front of Mason straightening his dark hair noticing that it had gotten a little too shaggy, but he wasn't too keen on hair cuts. His dark hair was one feature he'd inherited from his father.

For the most part Mason took after her; they shared the same hazel eyes, the same slightly round face, and the same smaller features such as their noses.

Molly spoke trying to sound cheerful and not stressed. "You're going to have a fun day today. You'll meet a ton of new friends, I bet. You're going to have such a blast. Maybe mommy can meet some new friends too. I bet we're both going to have a good day today."

Mason didn't reply. He only nodded his head as she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

She pulled at her blue hospital scrubs knowing that she looked like hell. She hadn't had the time to straighten her hair, so she'd just pulled it back into a messy bun.

At least she'd managed to put on a little makeup though. So hopefully she didn't look like the walking dead. She knew she was exhausted though. She knew that the exhaustion would be all worth it. This was the first day of the rest of her life.

She hadn't had much time to unpack anything the night before. She'd spent all day before unloading the uhaul on her own. The first thing she'd made sure to do was unpack Mason's bedroom.

Her bed still remained disassembled and most of their belongings remained in boxes around the rental home. She had slept by Mason's side the night before, in his little bed on his Spiderman comforter. They'd eaten cheap pizza the night before surrounded by boxes and watching kid's movies on the portable dvd player she'd packed.

The little house was not what she'd hoped for. It was so hot inside that it felt like an oven. She had spent hours on the phone trying to get a hold of her landlord. She'd hoped that he could come take care of the problem, but so far she had been unsuccessful. He dodged her calls until finally making an excuse that it would take a while to get someone out to look at the problem. She'd been told that she was just one of the many properties her landlord owned, so she would have to be patient.

For now it seemed that Mason and she would just have to sweat it out and make do.

She took Mason's hand in hers as they left the house. She held the one hand that wasn't clutching his action figure.

The Spiderman toy seemed to be a comfort to him. He brought the toy everywhere he went. He even slept with it like it was some kind of teddy bear. She'd worried he might leave it at the daycare, but he seemed unwilling to even consider parting with it this morning. She was willing to allow him the comfort despite her concerns about a misplaced forgotten toy.

Molly turned on the radio to an alternative rock station as soon as they got into the car, hoping that she could entice Mason into his favorite activity. He loved to sing along with the radio though he was too young to get most of the lyrics right.

It always managed to make her smile seeing him sing along like he didn't have a care in the world. She lived to see her child happy. It had been the one thing that kept her going throughout her marriage to Brian. Her child had been a lifeline through the misery.

Her smile failed to come though as Molly glanced in the backseat and spotted her silent son.

She shook her head as she pulled out of her driveway hoping that maybe the daycare would help Mason come out of his shell.

She feared that Mason might never recover from what he'd witnessed. He was afraid, she knew that.

She had done her best to explain things to him in a way that a five year old would understand.

Molly had told him that they were going on an adventure, to a place called Charming. They were going somewhere where he would meet new people and get to live in a whole new house. She'd tried to sound upbeat and make it sound as though they were doing something so grand. She'd tried to keep positive hoping that it would hide her anxieties and fears.

She had been unsure what to say about Brian. Molly knew that the time would come when she would have to explain to Mason why he had seen daddy hurt mommy and why daddy wasn't here with them.

She just hoped that she could find a way to explain it all. It wasn't right, a five year old child having to see something that horrible. She felt so guilty for letting him witness it all. Deep down inside she knew Brian was the only one to blame for his actions. She knew she had been a victim in this.

She hated herself for exposing her beloved child to something so terrible though. She felt pure shame for allowing herself to stay with a monster out of fear.

Molly took a deep breath knowing that she would never allow that to happen again. No one would ever lay a hand on her or her baby ever again.

This was the right choice, she reminded herself. She was doing the right thing.

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Of course Molly's bug chose that morning to get a flat tire. She was just lucky that she made it to a garage before she got herself into a wreck. She had to think it was a miracle that there happened to be an auto mechanics close enough to reach. Perhaps God was looking out for her? She had to hope someone was looking out for her despite the flat tire.

Chibs Telford raised an eyebrow as a pathetic looking Volkswagen Bug pulled into the parking lot of TM Auto.

The car was a sad sight; the paint on the right side was chipped and fading and the transmission sounded just awful.

It was still early; the garage hadn't even opened yet. He had come in early though wanting to bury himself in his work to avoid thinking about his personal troubles. He was thankful for the work even if the garage was still technically not open. He knew that he could manage to get the owner of the car checked in and take care of business despite the closed sign on the door. He was grateful for the distraction of work. It was a relief to his over exhausted brain and aching heart.

Chibs made his way over to the car as it came to a stop and a young woman opened the drivers' side door giving him a smile.

"I've gotten myself into a real mess." Molly stated giving the man who was slowly approaching her a sheepish smile.

She ran reached up tucking her side bangs behind her ear as the man spoke. "I'd say I agree love. How are ya even runnin that thing?"

She raised an eyebrow a little taken back by his Scottish accent, and the word love. She had expected to hear neither from the mechanic. A Scottish accent was an odd thing to encounter in Northern California

Molly felt her cheeks flush as she found herself staring at the thin scars along the Scotsman's cheeks. She looked away fearing that he thought she was rude for staring. She mentally scolded herself for being so rude. She'd been raised with far better manners than to gawk at something someone couldn't help. She felt like a jerk for even staring away making so clear she'd been gawking.

Chibs wasn't surprised that she turned her eyes away from him after staring for a bit.

He had long ago become accustomed to people's reactions to the scars Jimmy O' had given him before he'd taken Chibs' family and banished him from Ireland.

The pain had finally ended now that he'd gotten his revenge. Now that Jimmy O' was dead and gone and he knew that his girls were safe.

He tried not to let his mind focus on his girls for too long. His girls made his heart ache more than ever lately. He knew they were safe but they were so far away. Things had changed between his girls and he so quickly.

Fiona and he had come to an agreement just a few months ago; their marriage was over. There wouldn't be a divorce on Fiona's insistence. In Catholicism marriage was a sacrament that couldn't be broken, so divorce wasn't an option...or that was what Fiona had claimed. Chibs felt bitter over the refusal to even consider the divorce. He felt bitter about it all to be honest. It hurt though he knew in the end it was right...ending the estranged relationship entirely...agreeing to just be coparents to Kerrianne.

It had hurt losing the wife he had so long pined for. No, he'd not been faithful to her during their time apart. He'd allowed himself to fall into the chaos of SAMCRO and the women who serviced the club. His heart had belonged to Fiona though. It felt painful to realize that his heart could no longer be hers. He had no idea where to place that love now.

At least he still got to see his Kerrianne. He made a trip to Belfast as often as he could to see his soon to be fifteen year old daughter, hoping that they could build the type of relationship a father and daughter should have.

Kerrianne had been told so many lies about her father, by Jimmy. It had been hard for Chibs to convince her that her da was a good man despite his status as an outlaw biker. He'd done his best to prove his love and devotion to her. He'd allowed her to remain in Belfast knowing it was her home. He'd sacrificed the chance to take her back to the states with him. He'd given up that dream letting her remain in her home knowing it was what she needed.

As time went by and Kerrianne and he became close. They spoke on the phone weekly and developed a relationship. He sent her gifts often. It felt as though a void that had long existed in his heart had finally been filled. He was getting a chance to be a father. He loved having his little girl back in his life again.

Chibs could admit that he was a little taken back by Molly's accent as well. It was distinctly southern; strange to hear in Northern California.

He was also taken back by the woman's features; he would be lying if he tried to say that she wasn't a beautiful woman.

She wasn't very tall she barely came up right at the center of his chest. Although she was petite she had a nice figure, full hips and breasts. He could spot the figure even in the unattractive scrubs she wore. Her hair was a dark blonde; almost the color of honey and her eyes were a pretty hazel.Her complexion was milky and smooth looking. Her hands seemed petite and her short nails were painted a lovely shade of lilac.

He found himself glancing down at her left hand at her ring finger. He was a little shocked that there was no ring there. Still though that didn't mean that she was single.

A girl like that had to have a man somewhere. He felt foolish for even looking for a ring. He knew that even if she had no man in her life. she would probably never want a man like him. It was a foolish hope thinking of her in that way; checking for signs of her being available. He felt like an old fool for even considering her relationship status.

It was her smile that really caught his attention. It was friendly despite the fact that Chibs often intimidated people given his appearance and his ties to Samcro. Usually people didn't smile at him. She had a pleasant smile though her eyes looked tired. He was not accustomed to people smiling at him so politely. The smile made him feel warm inside. He felt silly for the thought; feeling a soft cozy glow under her gaze.

Chibs snapped out of admiring her looks as he managed to speak. "Looks like ya hit a nail on the back right tire... and yer transmission is shite."

"Yeah...like I said, I've gotten myself into a mess...and now I'm late for my first day of work...great." She replied though the last part of her statement seemed to be more to herself than to him.

He was shocked as she opened the backseat and leaned in helping a little boy out of the car. The boy was tiny; delicate. Chibs was certain the kid was small for his age. The boy seemed healthy at least; his hair was dark, loose shaggy curls that made him look angelic. His eyes were identical to Molly's hazel bright and clear. The boy held on to Molly's hand staying close to his mother.

Chibs felt a sense of embarrassment realizing that he'd just cursed in front of a child. Sure he had done far worse in his life but he was sure that the boy's mother wouldn't appreciate his language. He grimaced sure he was about to get an earful about the foul language in front of a child even if had only been one word.

He did his best to give the boy a smile as he spoke up hoping to smooth over any upset he may have caused the kid's mom. "Sorry I said a bad word little lad."

Mason stared wide-eyed at the strange man not saying a word. He moved behind his mother's form hiding from Chibs' gaze.

Molly cleared her throat quickly speaking up trying to explain her son's silence hoping that the Scot didn't take it as rudeness. "He's shy."

Chibs nodded his head understanding. He'd found that most kids that didn't know him well enough were just as intimidated by him as adults were. Which he could admit was hurtful. He had always loved children. He had loved his nephew back in Belfast when the lad had been growing up. He'd spent so much time with him and had appreciated being involved in his life. Now though he knew that most kids tended to shy away from him. They took one look at his face and felt fear. He had found comfort in the Teller boys at least. He liked being Uncle Chibs to them. It had felt healing to be around the boys. He knew Jimmy O' had not taken being Uncle Chibs from him at least when it came to the Teller boys...his heart ached knowing that Jimmy O' had taken his nephew from him though.

Chibs pulled his mind from thoughts of his late nephew as he spoke nodding back to the poor Volkswagen. "We're a bit backed up ere, but I can get yer car in this afternoon. Don' know how long it'll take though, Love. Like I said, we're a wee bit backed up. Lotta wrecks last week, lots of folks coming through for summer trips getting into wrecks. Plus we gotta a few custom bike jobs ahead of ya. I can't promise fast work, but we'll get ya fixed up anyhow."

Molly gave him a smile thankful that her car would be repaired and not break down on her anymore. She spoke taking a look at the name stitched into his gray works shirt: Chibs, she found herself unsure if she should call him that or not. She was quite certain the man's parents had not given him such a name. "Thank you so much...uhm.."

Chibs raised an eyebrow realizing that she was asking his name. He took himself by surprise saying his real name and not the name everyone but his family called him. "Filip."

"Filip." She repeated causing him to do something else that he found astonishing. He felt a genuine smile develop across his face. He couldn't help but to like the sound of his name on her lips.

She spoke again reaching out to take his hand. "I'm Molly and this is Mason."

Chibs nodded in response as he took her hand in his giving it a firm shake, unable but to enjoy how soft her skin felt against his calloused hands.

He was shocked that he was so reluctant to let go of her hand. He shook his head wondering what had gotten into him.

Maybe it was just that he'd been alone for too long. He found himself unable to really get back into the biker lifestyle once Fiona and he had agreed to end their relationship.

All those years Fiona and he had been estranged he had found himself easily falling into a pattern, booze and croweaters.

He'd sleep with any one of the girls who hung around the clubhouse, a different girl just about every night.

Nights of drunken sex with women whose names he couldn't even remember by the next morning no longer felt fulfilling to him.

After Fiona and he had agreed to end their marriage, Chibs had found that he could not sink back into the life of meaningless sex with crow eaters. He had discovered that he just didn't enjoy it anymore. It felt cheap and it made him feel empty. At first he thought that maybe he was just getting old, but then he'd realized something.

He was lonely. He longed for something more, something real. He watched Jax with Tara and Gemma with Nero and he felt so alone. He laid in bed at night without anyone by his side and fretted over his future. He had come to the realization he would die alone without love. He'd so long hoped Fiona and he would reunite but that dream was dead and he knew it was for the best...but it still hurt. He had finally realized that he was truly alone. It was a realization that made his heart ache and yearn.

He felt so foolish but as he stared at the pretty blonde he found himself wondering what it might be like to lie by her side at night. He shook the thought from his mind knowing he was just an old fool. There was no way a woman like her would ever lie by the side of a man like him.  

Molly spoke up as she stared down at her cheap red plastic watch unaware of Chibs' inner turmoil. "Is there a phone I can use?...I need to get a rental car and I need to call Saint Thomas Hospital and explain why I'm late."

Chibs nodded his head not astonished by her workplace. The scrubs made it obvious, there was only one hospital in Charming. He sighed more sure than ever now that she would never have the time of day for him. She was a responsible adult with an important job who would not be interested in the outlaw biker. Sure, he knew Tara had loved Jax despite her mainstream job, but there was history there. Chibs knew he held no history with Molly. They were from two different worlds. She would not want anything to do with his world. 

"I can have someone give ya a lift to the car rental place. As far as a phone, I'm sure I can sort that out too." Chibs stated as he turned getting the attention of one of the prospects motioning over to the man.

He spoke to Ratboy as the man came up to him. "Can ya take Molly and her boy ere down to Davis Rentals, and let er use yer cell too. She needs to call her work."

Molly widened her eyes a little surprised by the friendly gesture of allowing her to borrow a cell phone.

She spoke hoping that it was clear just how thankful she was for the kind action. "Thank you, Filip. I appreciate it more than you know."

Chibs ignored the look on Ratboy's face as he spoke the smile once again developing along his face. "Yer welcome, Love. Just leave yer number with Ratboy here and We'll get to ya when yer cars ready."

Molly nodded trying not to show how strange she thought that the man who was giving her a ride was called Ratboy. What was it with this place and the employee's nicknames? "Thank you so much."

And with that she let the prospect lead her and her son away to a tow truck.

Chibs watched her walk away cursing the yearning in his heart. He told himself he was an idiot for the feeling. He was trying to bat out of his league and he was too beaten down and worn to even dream that he could charm her. Charming her would be foolish. She was a mother and most likely just saw him as the older dirty mechanic who had been providing good customer service.

Chibs was surprised as Mason turned to face him looking at him through the back window as the tow truck pulled away. Mason did the last thing Chibs' had expected considering the kid's silence. He stared as Mason waved.

Chibs raised his hand waving back without having to even think about the action.

He shook his head as the tow truck faded out of view. He let out a sigh trying to knock Molly and her boy out of his mind.

As lovely as he found Molly, there was no point in daydreaming about her ever giving him the time of day.

A girl like that didn't need a man like him.

[thehighpriestess1]

The Gojo fic mentioned here that I wrote the first chapter for but never finished 🥲🥲

I don't know what triggers warnings to add so proceed with caution regardless.

Gojo rubbed his forehead as his blind date complained about the food for the fourth time. He regretted agreeing to get into this and was mentally killing his best friend for the 10th time since the date started. He looked up and saw her giving him the doe eyes. The ones that say Why did you bring me to this crappy diner when we could have gone to a Michelin star hotel. Gojo chuckled lightly.

This was his trick to get out of bad dates. He would pick up the girl from her door and based on what he thinks of her in the first five minutes of the car ride he would either take her to his favorite restaurant or the first off beat diner he saw. Rose, his date started talking about how excited she was to dine with him and how all her friends were going to oh so jealous of her. Gojo looked at her poke her food with the fork and almost felt bad for her....almost.

"Excuse me". He raised his hand to call for the waitress who served them. The girl came and stood next to their table with a sigh. He noticed her sprained left hand and made a mental note to tip her well for putting up with this in that condition.

"Is there a problem?".

"This food is disgusting!". Rose spat sliding her fork on the plate.

"You ordered it". Her deadbeat attitude intrigued Gojo. He noticed that she was pretty and tough looking. Loose strands of her bun fell on her face and her eyes..her eyes were filled with sadness. "I'm sorry but can we get it replaced ?". Gojo said politely snapping out of his inspection.

"Sure but you'll have to pay for this one and the next one might taste the same".

"just do as you're told! Do you not know how to treat customer? And why should we pay when the food is shit!". Rose quipped crossing her hand over her chest.

"because you ordered it and it seems like you ate some of it". Rose scoffed and bit the inside of her cheeks. "I'd like to speak to your manager! Once he knows who we are he will teach you some manners". Before Gojo could step in to diffuse the situation the waitress smiled and rested her right palm flat on the table as she bent towards Rose who was now leaning away from the girl. "I am the manager. We are short staffed. Now..is.there.anything.else.i.can.get.you?".

Rose gulped and looked at Gojo who was amused by this situation looked up at her and smirked at her gloating face. "We'll get the check". He said smiling at the waitress.

"Check it is then".

-X-

You walked back to the desk huffing at this couple. "What happened?". Your friend Jaz was in-charge of billing today. "Just some rich bitch got mad at me and said she wanted to speak to the manager". You said sliding their bill to her.

"Shit. What did you say?". You gave her a toothy smile. "I told her I am the manager".

"Y/n! I told you to stop doing that! You can get fired!". You sighed as you leaned against nthe counter.

"Big fucking deal. This isn't the only place in town looking for cheap labour".

"She's got nice tits though". Jaz said looking at the annoyed Rose.You followed her gaze to Rose and smirked. "Yeah. You think they're real?".

"Seems so. What about the guy? He hot?". You looked at the back of the white haired man. "He rich". You said as your grabbed the bill and placed it between the torn leather folder.

-X-

"Here you go. I hope you had a pleasant time. Please leave a review for the restaurant as it would help us grow". You chanted the rehearsed greeting and bowed. Gojo chuckled as he placed some cash in the folder and slid it towards you. "What's your name?". He asked, pulling back the case just as you were about to reach for it. "I hope you had a pleasant time". You said again. You were used to random men asking for name and number and were in no mood to interact with the couple anymore than you already had.

"That's a weird name".

"Thank you for choosing to dine with us". You said taking back the bill and cash as the couple began to leave. "Excuse me, here's your change". You couldn't believe that someone would leave 500$ for a 80$ bill. "That's your tip".

"That's a lot of tip". You quipped still holding the spare in your hand. "I liked your service". He said winking at you. Rose huffed and walked out stomping her YSL heels. Gojo smiled and swung his jacked over his shoulder as he left you standing.

-X-

Gojo Satoru was an unforgiving man. His word was the law and no one in the city dared challenge his orders. He was cruel in the cruelest sense and had no regard for feelings But Gojo Satoru couldn't get you out of his head for the entire week and on a Wednesday afternoon he decided he needed to at least get your name.

He walked into the diner and looked around for you but you were nowhere to be seen. "Right! She's the manager!". He went to the counter and saw a man in glasses standing there. "Hi".

"Hello Sir, welcome to goldleaf diner. How may I serve you today".

"I want to speak with the Manager".

"I am the manager. My name is hiroki muka-"

"No. Not you. The other manager".

"I am the only Manager here". Gojo ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "The ... The woman. She was the manager a week ago? She had a sprained arm?".

The man raised both his arms in the air and turned halfway around to giggling waitress behind him. "Not again!".

"Excuse me?". Gojo asked tilting his head to the side. "My apology. She is not a Manager. She is a menace. Which is why she was fired three days ago". Gojo let out a groan. "Can I get her name or number?".

"I'm sorry sir I can't do that". Gojo gave him a pressed smile and gently placed a wad of cash on the counter. "Her name".

"Miyoko. But unfortunately I don't have her contact number".The man said slowly sliding the cash in his pocket. Gojo sighed and shook his head. "Is there anyway I can reach her?".

"Girls like her don't stay in one place for long". The man said. Something about his tone made Gojo angry but he calmed himself and returned a pressed smile.

"Miyoko...". He whispered the name as he gave orders to his men to find every girl named miyoko in that area. It was just a name but somehow he felt closer to you. He didn't understand why did he want to know your name. He didn't understand why did he want to find you. He felt like a teenager trying to stalk his crush.

-X-

It took about two days for his men to find out every information about every Miyoko in that area. Gojo sat at the edge of his desk frantically flipping through the pages containing photo and data looking for the familiar face. He tossed the first file on the floor as desperation rose inside him. He tossed the second file to the floor as well as his men gulped at the sudden shift of the atmosphere. He closed the last file and swung it across the room in anger. "She's not here! Are you sure you got each one of them?".

"Yes sir". Gojo groaned in frustration. Geto walked in the room and saw the stiffened men and tossed files. "Didn't find her?". He amused at the the desperate state of his friend.

"Shut up. I don't know what to do!".

"Give up? She's just a waitress you'll find another one". He sat opposite to Gojo and lit his cigarette. "You don't understand. I have to find her". Geto hummed as he let out a puff of smoke. "Did it occur to you that she probably gave a fake name?". Gojo looked up at this smirking friend. "Fuck. I didn't think of that".

Geto laughed as he reached out his hand and ashed the cigarette in the ashtray. "Now to the serious stuff. The deal with Gyizo gang is tonight and you are going instead of me".

"Why do I have to go?".

"Cause you owe me one and I have a date".

-X-

Gojo sat in the backseat as he watched the city lights flicker. He checked his watch 1:00AM. They were well into the heart of the city now after getting the work done. The whole deal had out him in a bad mood. First he couldn't find a fucking girl next his best friend trapped him into attending a shitty deal.He needed a break. "Stop at the convince store". He ordered his driver who obliged.

Gojo walked through the door without looking at the cashier and went to the racks of ramen before finally picking out his favourite one. He walked over to the counter with his eyes fixed on his wallet. "That would be 2.50 would you like a carry bag?". Gojo's hand froze on his wallet. He looked up slowly to see you standing behind the counter. "Hi". He smiled widely like a child who found the last piece of the puzzle.

"Hi. Would you like a carry bag?". He looked at you arm and felt relieved when he saw it was fine now. Next his eyes travelled to your name tag. "So your name is Kiki?". You squinted your eyes at him, "Would you like a carry bag?".

"No. What's your name?".

"That would be 2.50$". Gojo chuckled and looked around. "Look I'm not a weirdo okay? You have no idea how long I have been looking for you". You tool a step away from the counter. Gojo read the fear on your face and raised his hand by his side signalling that he wasn't going to harm you. "You don't remember me? We met at the diner? You had a sprained arm ..?". Then it clicked. He was the guy who gave you the biggest tip of your life. Your shoulders dropped in relief.

"Look man of you're here for your money then I don't have it".

"I don't want my money".

"Then what do you want?".

"I...". Gojo fumbled with his words as his brain tried to think of what did want? "Your name". You looked outside to three Balck range rovers parked in a semi circle. You didn't know what he was upto but you knew you didn't want to be a part of it. "That would be 2.50$".

Gojo sighed and looked at the ramen and cold coffee he picked up. He went back and got another set and placed it on the counter. "That would be 5$". You said scanning the items. Gojo handed you his black card and you inspected it in your hand. "Is this real?". You raised an eyebrow at him. You have had your fair share of people trying to buy with fake or stolen cards, sometimes even with fake money. "I wouldn't use a fake card for 5$ meal". Gojo said chocking his head to a side. "People don't use a black card for a 5$ meal".

Gojo chuckled, "It's the only thing I have on me right now".You shrugged your shoulders and billed him for the items.

"Have dinner with me". Gojo said as you handed him the card.

"I am working". You said trying your best to look busy in the empty store. "There is no other customer and I don't like eating alone". As if in cue his stomach grumbled and heat rose to his cheeks. Your looked at him and let out a giggle. "You seem to be really hungry".

"I am, so please eat with me. I will compensate you for your time". He said holding the items in his hand. You shook your head and smiled. Gojo saw you smiled like that for the first time and his heart skipped a beat. "Alright then but if I get in trouble then it's on you!". Gojo nodded and followed you to the seating area next to a glass wall. Gojo goy the ramen ready as you poured the coffee from the bottle into two glasses with ice.

Gojo rolled the sleeves of his Balck shirt and placed his jacket on the stool next to him. You both sat next to eachother looking at the street outside. "So what's your name?". He asked taking slurping his noodles. "Kiki". You said, avoiding eye contact.

"Is that your real name?".

"For today it is".

"What will it be tomorrow?".

"Beyonce". Gojo choked on his noodles and you smiled amusingly to yourself. "Who are you?". He asked leaning on his one arm and looking at you. You shrugged your shoulders and continued to eat.

"If I come here tomorrow would you still be here?". You stopped your chopsticks mid air."Maybe". Gojo frowned as he straightened up. You shrugged again. He bit the inside of his cheeks as he tried to come with something.

"Why were you looking for me?". It was your turn to ask questions now. Gojo's eyes widened. "I..I wanted to apologise for the way my friend behaved". He looked away cringing at his bleak excuse.

"After a whole week?".

"Yes. I found out that you were not the manager". You let out a chuckle but Gojo saw something that made his stomach churn. He saw a black-blue bruise along your neck which seemed to be spread on your shoulder too. He wanted to ask but he knew you would either won't answer him or give a false story. He saw your arms where your sleeves were rolled up and saw hints of dark red marks.

"You alright?". You were done with your food and Gojo was barely halfway through. "Yeah. Lost my appetite". He said sternly as he picked up both the boxes and went to discard them. You saw his retreating figure and wondered what could have caused the sudden shift. Wiping your mouth and hands you returned behind the counter. Gojo came upto you once again but this time he looked like he knew what he wanted. "When does your shift get over?".

"what do you want from me?". Your asked as you lifted a crate of soda to restock the fridge. Gojo took it from your hand and followed you to the fridge. "I just want to get to know you".

"Why?". You quipped arranging the cans in a line.

"I want to be your friend".

"Why?".

"I think you're... intresting". He said cluelessly. You chuckled and asked. "Who are you?".

"I am Gojo Satoru". You looked up at him and for a second you were lost in his cerulean eyes. You had never seen eyes like these. "You have beautiful eyes Gojo Satoru".

Gojo had been complimented on his eyes since he was a kid then why was he shying away now? Why did it hurt him seeing the pain in your eyes. He had never noticed someone's eyes before but yours, yours took his breath away.

"Hello?". You were snapped out of your daze when you saw your coworker enter. You sighed and took off your vest. "I'm off work now. You can leave". You walked back to the changing broom and removed your blue vest.

You pressed your hand over your chest to calm the insistent beating of your heart. You looked up in the mirror on the locker and chuckled. You looked like shit. Before your could leave your phone buzzed in your pocket.

I'm coming to pick you up. The text had your stomach churning and you understood that it was going to be along night.

Shutting the locker and entering your card in the machine to clock out you walked out the store in your free hoodie with your good pulled up. You thought he had left but you saw him leaning against his car smiling at you. He looked handsome. His tall and broad frame made him looked like a model. The Balck shirt only brought out the white of his hair and his eyes glowed in the florescent light of the store.

"Have a good night". You said hastily and turned away to walk in the other direction but he grabbed your wrist just in time making fall back and collide with his chest. You turned around to look up at him and felt the intensity of his gaze.

"Can I see you again? Tomorrow?".

"I gues I'll be here".

"Promise me you'll be here. Please". Gojo pleaded with his grip on your wrist tightening.

You bit your lip and looked around hoping that no one was watching you but to your dismay you saw your partner standing in an alley way looking at you. "Sure I promise. Tomorrow. I gotta go. Bye". You said and hurriedly walked towards your partner with your head hung low. Gojo watched you leave with a frown. Something seemed off. But he will get to the end of it tomorrow.

Just like he promised Gojo showed up to the same convience store in evening but just like last time you weren't there. He asked the cashier and he told him that you quit your job that morning. Gojo asked for your number but he didn't have it and just like last time you had given a fake name and just like last time Gojo felt hope leave his body. But this time Gojo was adamant on seeing you again.

[horror-music]

Luztoye Week 2024 - Day 2: Weather

Today is a day of many firsts for me:

first fic on Tumblr and AO3

first fic out there in english (not my native language)

first time writing about a classic ship

first time writing for the bob fandom

I wrote it for the weather prompt and got inspired by the song Weather by RotFront.

If you find any grammatical or spelling mistakes, please let me know, I’ll try to fix it :)

Enjoy :)

All we talk about is the weather

Modern AU

Word count: 5,494

Pairing: George Luz x Joe Toye

Summary: It was the first time Joe went out in seven months.

It was the first time Joe saw George in seven months.

Yesterday it was six months ago since he got a text from George.

Today it was seven months since he last saw George.

Tomorrow it would be seven months since everything had changed.

Joe sat in his small apartment, smoking out the window, as the doorbell rang. Already annoyed that he had to get up again, he put his cigarette in the ashtray and muttered to himself when the doorbell rang once more. He got to his crutches and went to open the door.

Bill greeted him and without hesitation pushed himself beside Joe into his apartment. Joe sighed as he closed the door and turned around to his friend.

"Hello to you too."

"Yeah, yeah.“ He waved it off. "Have you thought about Saturday?" Bill plopped down on the sofa and looked at his friend waiting.

Joe rolled his eyes. He had secretly hoped that Bill had forgotten that he had asked him.

"Thought about it." Joe sat back down on his seat by the window to get the last puff of his smoke before it burned out on its own.

Bill turned around on the sofa to look at him and threw his arms up in frustration, "God! Joe! Just spit it out!"

For weeks, Bill had been trying to convince Joe to come to his birthday party on Saturday. They both knew it was unlikely that Joe would come. He hadn't gone out in over half a year.

Bill was the only one of his friends that Joe had seen face to face. For every other one, Joe always had an excuse not to talk to them for too long or see them in any way.

"I'm not coming." He stubbed out his cigarette and held the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before looking out the window and blowing it into the warm spring air.

Bill's expression changed from annoyed to determined, "You know what? I don't care. You don't have a choice. You're coming! Even if I have to carry you there! No more of your crappy excuses." He pointed at Joe, sounding a little threatening at the end.

It didn't have the effect Bill had hoped for. Joe raised a brow and a half-smile crept across his lips. "You? Carry me?" He huffed. "Best joke in a long time."

"I'm serious. If you're not at my place by eight, I'll send someone to get you!" Bill still pointed at him as he got up from the couch.

Joe opened his mouth to say something, but Bill cut him off with a deadly stare, "Eight! And not a minute later!" With that he left Joe alone again.

He exhaled deeply and leaned back against the wall by the window. Joe was a little envious of Bill, though he wouldn't admit it. His friend walked and talked and was just like nothing had happened. Sure, he had a rough time too, but he got over it a few months ago. Joe, on the other hand, was the insecurity personified. Especially with his prosthetic. He only felt a little safer on his crutches. That's why he rarely left his apartment these days. He didn't want to feel the pitying looks of other people. Maybe there wouldn't be so many looks if he walked with his prosthetic. No one would see it if he wore long pants. But he limped too much with it to get by unnoticed. And after a while, it just hurt.

He lit another cigarette so he could focus on something other than his thoughts. When he was halfway through, his phone vibrated, signaling an incoming message.

Before his brain could make sense of the words on the screen, his heart skipped a beat, hoping that George had texted him.

As soon as his heart started beating faster, it was over and the warm feeling was replaced by a familiar sting.

The text was from Bill.

Who else should it be?

He reminded him that he meant what he said and gave him some unsolicited tips for his prosthetic. Joe didn't reply, he rarely did, but Bill knew that.

If George would be there on Saturday? Joe's thoughts began to wander again. Maybe he would, then he could see him again. Maybe Joe could even talk to him. Only that might make things worse. From the first day George heard that Joe was in the hospital, he made an effort to keep in touch with Joe. He texted him every day. At least for the first few months.

Deep down, Joe knew it was his fault that George had stopped texting him. Joe's replies weren't always much to start a conversation with. Mostly they were short sentences, to the point, without any further context. If it had been the other way around, Joe would have stopped texting much sooner than George.

With the knot that formed in his stomach at the thought of George, he put out his cigarette, closed the window and went over to his couch to watch some TV. He hoped that this distraction would help him more than smoking.

***

The days passed as usual and soon it was Saturday. First thing in the morning, Joe got another friendly, threatening text message from Bill about his deadline at eight p.m. Joe didn't answer.

Throughout the day, his thoughts circled around who would be at the party. If he should really go. If he wanted his friends to see him like this. If he wanted George to see him like this.

As the evening approached, Joe found himself in front of his closet with only a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair still damp from the shower. Minutes passed and he still couldn't decide on an outfit for the evening. He figured it would be best to start with some clean underwear and a sock. After several more minutes without picking out any clothes, he began to get annoyed with himself.

Why was it so hard to find something to wear? It was never difficult for him. He usually wore whatever was on top of the piles of clothes in the closet.

Maybe today was more special for him than he would admit. The chances were high that he would see George again, and every time he thought about an outfit, he thought about what George would say. Only the George in his head wasn't easy to please. If he had thought about the real George, it would have been much easier to decide on an outfit.

After an hour and a half, he was wearing a white T-shirt and his favorite black leather jacket.

This was a new record. That much time for such an ordinary outfit he used to wear more often.

The black pants he wanted to wear with it were on his bed, right next to his prosthetic. He wanted to put them on as late as possible to delay the pain as much as he could.

Joe checked the time on the oven as he walked back into the kitchen. He still had an hour before he had to be at Bill's. Just as he was about to sit back down by the window, his phone rang. He grabbed it from the kitchen counter where he had left it and took it with him, answering the call as he sat down and tried to light his cigarette at the same time.

"What?" Joe mumbled around the cigarette in his mouth. He saw Bill's face on the screen and decided he didn't need a proper greeting.

"You ready?"

"I've still got an hour!"

"Buck will pick you up in thirty minutes."

"Ey! That wasn't the deal! You said I had until eight to show up before you came to get me!" Joe replied loudly, letting his hand with the lighter sink to the windowsill.

"Don't make a fuss, Joe. You don't have to pay for an Uber and you can catch up with him. Just wait at the street in thirty minutes."

Joe exhaled the smoke from his current drag. "Why do you even care that I'm there tonight?"

"Because you're my friend. One of my best friends! And we've been through the same shit, and I don't want to see you shutting down more and more, and eventually not talking to me either. Life goes on, Joe, but you have to give it a chance to prove to you that it can be good,“ Bill's voice was both determined and frustrated.

Joe knew he was right and that he only meant well for him. That it wouldn't do him any good to go on living like this. But it was hard to believe Bill that things would get better.

"I'll be ready," Joe relented after a few moments of silence on both ends.

"Good. See ya."

"Yeah, bye."

They hung up and Joe's mind raced again. But this time he couldn't stop it. He just let the thoughts fly through his head and tried not to hold on to any of them. But it wasn't that easy.

Who would be there?

Would they still want to talk to him?

Would they treat him differently?

Would George still want to talk to him?

Would he treat him differently?

***

With his hands in his pockets, Joe stood in front of his apartment building waiting for Buck's car to show up. Five minutes late, he showed up and apologized for making him wait.

"Relax Buck, it's no big deal," Joe said as he got in the car.

"Good to see you Joe." Buck smiled at him with a pat on the shoulder.

"Good to see you, too." Joe returned the gesture and Buck merged back into traffic.

They had a light conversation about what had happened since they had last seen each other until Buck found a place to park his car. There wasn't a moment when Joe felt that Buck saw him differently or that they couldn't talk anymore. It gave Joe some of his confidence back.

The door to Bill's house was open, maybe because Bill was tired of going to the door every five minutes to let new guests in.

Joe followed Buck inside and looked around as casually as he could. An outsider would have guessed that he was looking for the birthday boy. The assumption wasn't that wrong, but the main reason for him was to see if he could find George.

He didn't find him, but almost everyone else was here. And soon word of his arrival at the party was making the rounds. The first person to come up to him was Babe. With a big smile on his face and a beer for him in his hand, he pulled him into a hug.

"It's so good to see you, buddy!"

"Yeah, you too."

Gene was next and from that point on it seemed as if nothing had changed. There was no accident, no suffering, no hospital, no rehab. Just friends at a party in a good mood, as always.

Joe managed to get to the kitchen between all the good-to-see-you's. He should eat something before he had another beer. Joe was looking at the different kinds of pizza on the table when someone from behind gave him a squeeze on the shoulder.

"I'm really glad you're here." It was Bill.

Joe nodded as he turned around with a slice of pepperoni pizza in his hands.

"Yeah, me too. It's not as bad as I thought."

"Told you! And it gets even better in-" Bill looked at the clock above the door. "In about ten minutes."

Joe's eyebrows met his hairline, waiting for an explanation that didn't come.

"Trust me," was all Bill said before grabbing a slice of pizza.

"Happy birthday, by the way," Joe called out to Bill before he could leave with his food.

Great. Trusting Bill was playing with fire. It could be really good or really, really bad. However, Joe didn't have enough time to think about it now that he heard voices approaching the kitchen.

Malarkey, Skip and Penkala entered the room laughing as he munched on his second slice. As soon as they saw Joe, his peaceful break was over. He hadn't talked to them today, so it was another good-to-see-you and a you-look-good from each of them.

He wasn't angry with them, they hadn't seen each other for a long time either, like everyone else.

Maybe they sensed that he wasn't in much of a mood to tell them about his life the last few months, so they told him about every little prank they'd pulled on the others. In at least every other story, George played a role that made Joe hang on their every word. Right now, it might be possible that George, like Beetlejuice, will appear if you say his name three times in a row.

Joe's focus was distracted when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Bill had sent him a rather cryptic message: "Ten minutes are up".

Confused, he shook his head and put the phone back in his pocket when he heard a familiar voice from the living room. It sounded a lot like Dike, their incompetent substitute teacher from college. But that wasn't possible, was it? Bill had to have invited him. That wouldn't happen in a hundred years. As the pieces fell into place in his head, he mumbled an excuse to the trio and headed for the living room.

There he stood, still the same as the last time. Maybe even better looking. His brightly patterned button-up shirt, with the first two buttons undone, matched his extroverted personality, Joe thought to himself as a small smile played around the corner of his lips.

George was surrounded by their laughing friends as he made another impression of one of their teachers. Joe's stomach clenched as he realized how much he missed George's laughter. His silly jokes, his impressions, his voice.

George hadn't noticed him, and Joe wasn't sure he wanted to. He felt like the biggest asshole on the planet for treating George the way he did. For keeping him out of his life when he wanted nothing more than him.

Joe stared, but when George started to walk towards him, his heart stopped, only to race three times as fast as normal afterwards.

"Hey Toye."

That was it. Nothing more. No "Good to see you." No "You look good." Nothing.

He really screwed up.

"Hey, Luz."

What hurt Joe the most was that George wouldn't even look at him properly. The day it all went downhill seeped into his mind as Joe tried to look as neutral as he always did.

It had been a week without a text from George. The days when he texted Joe at least once a day were long gone, but a week without anything was new. Joe told himself that there wasn't a constant stabbing pain where his heart used to be. That everything was fine. George didn't have to write to him.

It hurt him even more when George texted again, but it wasn't "Hey Joe" or "Hey Joey" anymore. It was "Hi Toye." They hadn't called each other by their last names when they were alone in what felt like forever. And it stung. He was too much of a coward to say anything. George called him Toye again, so Joe called him Luz. No big deal, right?

"If you don't talk to him, I'm gonna drown you in the sink!" Bill hissed at Joe, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Joe looked at him and quietly asked what he was talking about, but Bill just shook his head. "Cut the crap! We both know, and I'm sure we're not the only ones."

"It's really scary how much you know about me sometimes." Joe stepped around his friend and walked to the other side of the room. As far away from him and George as possible.

He sat down in the armchair in the corner, the pressure of the prosthetic on his leg immediately easing a bit.

It didn't take long for the next person to show up. Lip sat down on the couch across from him and offered him a beer, which he gladly accepted.

Lip started a conversation with him. At first it worked and Joe could concentrate on him, but as soon as George came into his field of vision, he didn't even realize that the subject had changed and that Lip was trying to convince him to talk to George. At the moment the latter was talking to Skip and Malarkey and their laughter made Joe's heart clench and swell at the same time. How much he wanted to be the reason for George's laughter.

As the evening wore on, Joe drank one beer after another and stared at George from a distance. Every now and then Bill gave his friend a meaningful look. And each time Joe rolled his eyes until he actually wanted to talk to George, but couldn't get him alone.

***

Joe was tired of staring but not being able to talk to George. He downed the rest of his beer and walked over to George, who was talking to Frank and Liebgott. His heart was racing from the second he got up. But he didn't care. Neither that George was in a conversation, nor that his heart seemed to be racing as if his life depended on it.

"Hey, sorry, but I have to kidnap our favorite jokester for a bit." Joe put his arm around George's shoulders and pulled him close before leading the way to the backyard.

On his way to the door, Joe grabbed a jacket from a chair and handed it to George. It wasn't his jacket, but it was still a little cold outside this time of year. He didn't want to see George shivering when he couldn't really put his arms around him to keep him warm.

The fresh air outside sobered Joe and caused him to drop his arm, realizing how stiff George was against him. Lighting a cigarette was the first natural act for both of them once they were out in the open. Neither of them spoke for a while. Normally George would be talking his ear off by now. That he didn't was a sign to Joe of how bad it was.

"It's not as cold as I thought." Joe's sad attempt at a conversation starter.

"Yeah." George took a drag of his cigarette.

"It was really sunny today though, maybe that's why."

George didn't answer.

"I'm glad it's getting warmer."

Again, nothing.

"The winter was colder than last year."

George huffed. "If you just wanna talk about the weather, go talk to someone else."

He was about to turn around and go back inside when Joe put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stop.

"What? If you have something to say, say it. I don't have time all night," George snapped at him.

How could he let this happen?

He remembered when they were almost like Bonnie and Clyde. When George knew exactly what to do or say to make him smile or calm him down. When Joe knew exactly what the other ate every morning and how many cups of coffee he needed after a night of drinking.

A time when they were so close that they even acted like a couple. Only without the romance, the touching and the open affection.

George made him do things he would never have done without him or with anyone else. And now it all seemed so long ago.

The plans he had before the accident.

Everything he had wanted to do with him or say to him had receded into unattainable distance.

When George came to the conclusion that he wouldn't get an answer, he sighed and turned around.

"I'm sorry, George," Joe let out, too fast and too blurred by the alcohol in his veins.

But George stopped in his tracks. "Yeah? And you know why?"

George knew it was easier just to say sorry than to say why. And Joe knew that George knew.

"Everything I did... or more, everything I didn't do.“

The smaller one still didn't speak, but he watched Joe, his brown eyes focused on him. Joe ran a hand through his hair as he sighed and looked down.

"I am sorry that I made it so difficult for you to keep in touch with me. I'm sorry that I never let you visit me. I'm sorry I tried to keep you out of my life. And I'm sorry it worked."

George's expression softened. "Do you really mean that?"

Joe nodded so fast he was afraid he might get whiplash.

"Then why did you do it? I just wanted to be there for you." His soft features turned to sad ones.

It occurred to Joe how unwanted he must have made George feel. His gaze focused on the tree somewhere behind George, at the end of the property. The pain in George's eyes was too much to bear.

It took Joe a minute and a few deep breaths before he replied, "I just... I... Goddammit." He couldn't form a proper sentence in his head, let alone say it out loud.

To collect himself, he wanted to take another puff on his cigarette, only to realize that he had already smoked it down to the filter. Frustrated, he flicks the cigarette butt away.

Even before Joe reached for his pack of cigarettes again, George silently offered him one of his own. Joe took it and placed it between his lips for George to light. The warm light from the lighter cast shadows across George's features. There was a kind of mystery about him that made him even more attractive in Joe's eyes.

"I was afraid that you wouldn't like me when you saw me. Especially when I was in the hospital. And I didn't want your pity either."

He paused, taking a deep drag of his cigarette.

"I was afraid that the accident and my condition afterwards would destroy everything we'd built up. Now I know it was me. I was selfish and afraid of the pain, that you wouldn't want anything more to do with me. I never gave you a chance. I'm sorry."

His eyes met those of the smaller one once more, and he tried to put everything into that look that he was not able to express in words.

For a brief second, George's gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and back. Yet neither of them did anything.

George blew out smoke as he spoke, "You know I'm your friend because I like you and not your leg, right?"

"Wha... What?" Joe was clearly confused. He poured his heart out to him and between everything George could have said, he decided to make some kind of a bad joke.

"Just because your body is changing in some way doesn't mean I like you any less than before. As long as you are happy and you are yourself, I will not look at you any differently than before." He stubbed out his cigarette butt on the floor and looked at Joe with a slight smile on his lips.

"But promise me one thing, okay?" George locked eyes with Joe again.

"Sure. Anything."

"Next time, just talk to me. If your head starts acting up again and you're thinking about things too much for your own good, especially if it has to do with me, then just talk to me. Deal?"

Joe swallowed hard. He didn't want to start this whole thing over with a lie.

"Deal."

„Great." George smiled again and pointed towards the house. "Wanna go back inside or talk about the weather a little more?"

Joe chuckled briefly. "We can go back inside in a moment. But because of our new deal, there's one thing I need to say."

George focused on Joe again and nodded. "I'm all ears."

Joe took the last puff of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground and putting it out. "I thought about asking you out a few weeks before the accident, and I regret that I didn't. My mind was just too busy thinking of all the ways you could turn me down."

George's mouth hung open slightly as he stared at his friend.

"Ground Control to George. Are you in there?" Joe tried to joke and waved his hand in front of George's face.

"Stop that.“ George caught his wrist in mid-air and stopped him from moving. He cleared his throat as he lowered their hands. "Um... Would you mind rephrasing that into a question?"

It was dark out here, but Joe would bet that George's cheeks were turning slightly red.

Joe hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Would you like to go out on a date with me? Sometime?"

George let go of his wrist and Joe thought he would just laugh at him and walk away. That he had officially ended their relationship before it had begun.

George didn't laugh at him and didn't walk away either. He took his hand in his and looked back up at him. George's hand fit perfectly in his own and the feeling of skin against skin made his heart beat faster.

"I would love to."

Joe didn't even realize he was holding his breath until now, when he let it out in relief and smiled.

"Is there more in your head that you think about too much?" George asked him with a calming smile.

The other shook his head negatively. "Nothing that matters right now."

"Alright. Back inside then?"

Joe didn't answer, he just turned and started walking. George's hand was still in his.

As soon as they stepped over the threshold, Bill and Babe were waiting for them, a curious look on their faces.

"What were you talking about out there?" Bill asked straight out.

"The weather.“ George shrugged.

"That long?" Babe chimed in.

"Yeah, it's a beautiful night, isn't it, Joe?" George glanced to his side where latter stood, nodding in confirmation.

***

A few hours later, they were sitting side by side on the couch, shoulders lightly touching. Joe's eyes flickered over the wall of photos and stopped on one in particular. It was a picture of him and Bill, both of them on their new motorcycles. It had been a hell of a day, in the best possible way. They cruised around town until the sun went down.

It was the first time Joe had ever felt both free and at peace. And as he developed feelings for George, he knew he wanted to share those feelings with him.

"I always wanted to take you on a tour with me, you know? Just ride until our asses hurt and we have to ride back standing up," Joe mumbled in George's vague direction, but didn't take his eyes off the photo.

He almost thought George hadn't heard him, but then he felt a hand on his, squeezing it tightly.

The simple gesture was enough to encourage him to continue. "I wanted to feel your arms around me, your chest against my back, and just your weight with me on the bike. I hoped that you would feel the same sense of freedom and peace that I felt."

Another firm squeeze of his hand and George replied, "Your bike is still in Bill's garage, isn't it?"

"I think so. Why?" Joe looked confused and turned his head fully towards George.

"Then at least you could feel my arms around you and my chest against your back." George smiled at him.

Joe didn't move, his brain still processing what George was about to say. The alcohol in his system made it difficult for him to think at a normal speed. George stood up, dragging Joe with him, and headed for the garage.

"You goin' talk about the weather again?" Bill yelled laughing as he watched them walk out of the room hand in hand.

"Yeah! I haven't had a chance to check the weather in your garage yet," George replied with a grin over his shoulder, pulling Joe closer to his side.

Bill raised his eyebrows and pointed at them. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

The room brightened as George turned on the light switch.

There they were.

Both motorcycles, both still messed up.

But better than right after the drunk truck driver hit him and Bill.

Joe and Bill tried to fix them. It worked to the point where they could park them without fearing they would fall over any minute, but riding would never be possible again. At least with them.

George walked over to his bike and made a gentlemanly gesture for him to get on first. At that moment, Joe realized what George was up to. He grinned at George, but walked over and swung his prosthetic leg over the bike.

Joe had sat on his bike a few times since he had been out of the hospital. It didn't feel like it used to, but there was still a hint of the feeling he used to chase when he rode.

Everything that followed was like automatic. After shifting around a bit to find a comfortable position, he pulled the bike upright and folded the kickstand with his left foot.

He gave George a hand to sit behind him and when he was done finding a comfortable position for himself, Joe let go of the handles and leaned back until his back met George's chest. George leaned forward a little to keep from falling backwards off the bike and wrapped his arms around Joe's waist. He rested his chin on Joe's shoulder, who immediately responded by gently pressing his head against George's. After a few more seconds, Joe placed his hands over George's and drew little circles on them with his thumb.

Joe felt George's heartbeat through all the layers of fabric between them and his hot cheek against his head. He was sure that George could feel his heartbeat, too. It all felt like he had been missing it all his life, and now that he had it, his heart wanted to burst through his chest with happiness.

"And? Is it how you imagined it?" George whispered next to his ear. His breath tickled Joe and made him chuckle. "Not quite, but almost."

Silence returned.

"Thank you."

***

It was late, almost morning again, and Joe was standing by the side of the road with George, waiting for their Uber to arrive.

Since George didn't turn down his date request, Joe got a little bolder and, between two tequila shots, asked him if he wanted to spend the night at his place. George, already quite drunk, giggled and said yes, as if he were one of those clichéd high school girls who just got a smile from the handsome football quarterback.

If Joe had told him, George might have said it wasn't that far off.

But Joe didn't care. He said yes, and that was all that mattered.

"You know what?" George slurred, resting his head on Joe's shoulder.

"What?" Joe had to concentrate himself to get the word out clearly.

"We talked a lot about the weather today."

"That was just once, George."

"Uh-uh. We talked a lot about the weather."

"How drunk are you?" Joe tried to make George look up to meet his eyes, but he failed. He didn't move an inch.

A few seconds of silence passed, during which Joe thought George had fallen asleep.

"I'm not that drunk."

Joe just raised an eyebrow at him as George lifted his head from his shoulder to meet his gaze.

"We talked a lot about the weather in your head. All the dark clouds and rain and just bad weather up there," he poked Joe's forehead gently as he spoke.

"I didn't know you were a poetic drunk, Georgie." a smile played around the corner of Joe's lips.

"I'm always poetic!" George stuck out his chest to emphasize his point.

"Yeah, sure." Joe chuckled and ruffled the smaller man's hair.

He let his hand slip down the back of his head to rest on George's neck. The playfully arrogant expression on George's face softened as he noticed the other's lingering gaze. Joe's heart began to beat faster and he suddenly felt far too warm for a night in late April.

Without realizing it, he pulled George closer, his breath shallow. George leaned in as well, his gaze flickering from Joe's eyes to his lips and back again. George's warm breath brushed over his lips and for a brief moment he could feel George's soft lips on his own, even without touching them.

A car honked beside them and they jerked apart. The feeling of George's lips on his own was nothing more than a fantasy. At least for now.

[andthekitchensinkao3]

Tiny talks

So, here’s the thing. Since long before my hiatus from fandom and twit/ter and so on, I felt real crappy about my writing. Like, honest to goth Impostor Syndrome. I felt detached from the fandom, both because 1) I’m an introvert who has to make myself interact with people and take the first step, and 2) I’m in a different time zone than most of the fandom, so I get a big dose of FOMO too. A lot. So, on the one hand, I don’t interact with people because I’m scared of being a dork or too weird or maybe I’m writing the characters “wrong” etc, and on the other hand I’m just not around much when everyone else is.

Catch-22, much?

Add to that the fact I *want* nothing more than to make friends to squeal about fandom stuff with, and for me… Don’t take this the wrong way, but as a fanfic veteran from the late 90’s/early 00’s, fanfic comments was the way to make connections. People would email me about my fanfic, and we’d have entire conversations about characters or my stories. One-on-one.

People responded to me, not just by leaving a comment on my fics, but to my replying to them. We were like penpals, back then.

Now, it feels a lot like I’m screaming into a void. I see numbers ticking on my AO3 fics, and if I’m lucky I get less than 10% kudos. I have two to four people who regularly leave comments on my fics. If I reply to comments, I rarely get another response.

Back in 1999/200-ish, I didn’t have a clue how many people ready my fics, which made the emails/comments even more rewarding, somehow. “Wow, someone found my fic! They read it and liked it!”

Now, it’s all numbers. Statistics. If I get a hundred hits, I’m lucky if I get ten kudos. One or two comments. Which, to my brain, feels a lot like those ninety other people who read the fic didn’t like it at all, but were good enough not to leave a mean comment.

But today? Here’s the punchline, everyone.

Today I woke up to a question here on tumblr, which wasn’t a question at all, but a comment on my first ever DBH AU, Silent Treatment, which I wrote over a twelve month period back in 2019-2020. I wrote it during the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic. In some ways, it got me through that first year.

I’ve been reading this comment all day today, and it’s made me feel like I am seen. Someone can read a fic I wrote 3-4 years ago, and leave such a glowing, heartwarming thank you note that it made my whole year.

The moment I finished my first playthrough of this game, I made a pact with myself to write what I wanted to read. And I’ve stayed true to that ever since. But this single comment reminded me that this is also why I write: to put my words out there, and hopefully someone can read them and feel like their entire brain got rewired in the best possible way.

So, thank *you* tumblr user. You restored a huge chunk of my self-confidence as a writer today. A thousand kudos to you.

[baronessblixen]

A prompt if I may ask for one, how sick does Scully have to get before she will admit she is sick? Cancer arc hurt/comfort please

I hope this enough hurt/comfort! There's definitely cancer arc angst. Wc: 1340. Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2021

Fictober Day 2: Whispered Words

She's been on her feet all day, slicing and dicing, trying to keep up with Mulder. Same old, same old. Except it's not. Her muscles protest as she changes out of her scrubs. Her legs barely lift, and she stumbles, catching herself just in time against the lockers. She looks around, her cheeks flaming red, but she's all alone. She sits down to tie her shoes and when she leans forward, the slight headache she's been ignoring all day, presses against her forehead, reminding her of the unspeakable.

Mulder is waiting for her, roaming the halls restlessly like a caged animal.

"There you are," he says when he sees her, and she forces a smile. "Any anomalies?" He asks, cracking a sunflower seed. The sound is loud in her ears, and she startles.

"No," she says, "nothing abnormal." Mulder makes a disappointed noise. She can't blame him; they're stuck in this case, every lead a dead end.

"Let's go back to the office. There must be something we're missing." She tries to keep up with Mulder's long, athletic strides and finds that she can't. She should have kept on her sneakers. The heels squish her toes, make her slow and sluggish. Mulder stops to open a door and Scully, breathless, averts her face so that he doesn't notice. When his fingers come into contact with her back, right where they always do, at the tip of her tattoo, tears shoot into her eyes. Her glazed skin cracks and she winces.

Mulder, oblivious to her internal turmoil, removes his hand but the pain remains. Ahead of her, his form turns blurry. Every step is agony, like she's walking on coals. The heat spreads thickly, gathers in her stomach.

"Scully? Are you okay?"

How many 'I'm fine's’ are too much, she wonders as she stares at him, leaning against the wall. She's breathless, can't take in enough air. Her stomach revolts against everything and she prays silently like she never has before to please, please not be sick right here, right now.

"Hey." Mulder is by her side, crouching down to be eye-level with her. She doesn't want to look at him. She wants to tell him that she's fine. She wants to be okay.

"I'm- I don't-," she breaks up, sobs; she doesn't want to cry but her tears fall anyway. If she doesn't say it, if she doesn't admit she's sick, then she won't be, right?

"It's okay," Mulder says and touches her arm. "Do you- can you walk on your own? Do you need an ambulance? I'm gonna call-"

"Mulder, no." She puts her hand on his where it lays on her arm. "I just want to go home. Just... home."

He helps her out of the building and into the car. They're taking baby steps. One foot in front of the other as if she's just learned how to do it. Mulder is quiet next to her but his thoughts are screaming, piercing through her mind.

"What about work?" She asks once they start driving. Her tongue feels three times its normal size and it's a struggle to get the words out.

"Work can wait. It's not that important."

Any other day she would protest. Any other day she'd tell him she was better already. Today, though, she stays silent, accepts the fate her body has inflicted on her.

She leans her head against the cold glass window, watches the scenery pass by. It makes her nauseous. They drive past roadkill; a small fox, its life over before it's really begun. Scully closes her eyes against the pain, against the unfairness of it all.

She doesn't remember falling asleep but when she opens her eyes again, they're at her apartment building and she's in Mulder's arms.

"What are you doing?" She asks, her voice thick with sleep.

"Didn't have the heart to wake you," he says, his words in her hair, like new fallen snow. "How are you feeling?"

"Sick," she says, too exhausted to lie.

"We're almost there. Can you stand? I need to unlock the door." As if she were his grandmother's porcelain, he puts her down and opens the door.

"I can walk," she says quickly before Mulder can pick her up again. He follows her like a guard dog, watching her every move. She walks straight to her bedroom and collapses on the bed.

"Do you want me to call your mother?"

"What for?" She mumbles, feeling Mulder remove her shoes.

He doesn't answer right away but he's still there because she feels his hand on her ankle.

"Mulder?" She asks.

"To help you... get changed, eat something. Do you want me to call her?"

"No. I'm fine." As long as she doesn't open her eyes again. She will manage. Her clothes are loose enough to sleep in; she's done so before.

"Tell me if anything is uncomfortable." She hears Mulder's voice, but it doesn't register. The sound of a zipper tears through the silence and as cold air hits her legs, she realizes it's her own. Mulder is removing her pants. She should say something, stop him. But she can't. The words won't come. She shivers and Mulder mumbles an apology, quickly finding her pajamas.

"I won't look," he swears with a gentle smile that distracts her for just a moment. He opens her blouse, one button at a time. "Bra on or off?" He asks, glancing at her face. Only someone who's never worn a bra would ask that question.

"Off," she manages to say. Mulder nods, keeps his eyes on her face and takes her bra off. How often has she dreamed about Mulder undressing her? How many fantasies has she had? None have ever been like this. Not a single one. She’d scream if she had the strength.

He helps her into an oversized t-shirt that she's certain used to be his. Neither comments on it.

"Lie down," he says. "I'll get you your meds." Scully listens to him moving around in her kitchen and swearing once or twice. She can't move. Her eyes keep falling shut, too heavy to stay open. She fights it, fights everything. Somewhere in her apartment, Mulder is talking. She hears snippets, deducts that he must be talking to her mother. 'Tired' is one word, 'worried' and 'stubborn' are uttered as well.

"I'll take care of, Mrs. Scully. I won’t leave her alone," Mulder says close to her bedroom. Fresh tears threaten to fall. This is everything she didn't want. Nothing was supposed to change. She's a medical doctor and she should know better. This is only the beginning.

"I'll call you if anything changes. Bye." Mulder walks back into the bedroom and sets a cup of tea and crackers on her nightstand. He leaves again, returns with a small bucket, a towel, and another blanket.

"I hope you're not crying cause the tea tastes bad." She touches her cheek, unaware that she's started crying. "Do you need anything else? Do we need to call your doctor?"

We. Not her, we. She merely shakes her head no, not trusting her voice.

"I won't leave. Anything you need, just tell me. Okay? Anything at all." He touches her forehead, his fingertips gentle against her skin.

"Try to get some rest, hm?"

"Where are you going?" She asks him.

"The living- I can stay here if you want." She's too tired to fight it. She knows in half an hour, an hour tops, her limbs will feel as if they're freezing. She will shiver and there will be nothing that can keep her warm. Except... tonight, she wants to take. This disease is taking from her every day, chipping away at her life every passing moment. Tonight she'll, too, be outlandishly demanding.

"Stay," she whispers. "Please stay."

In the next few hours, she falls in and out of sleep, eats, drinks and gets sick. Repeatedly. Mulder is right there with her, never once leaving her side. In the morning, when she feels better, they don’t mention it. They never do.

[thegettingbyp2]

Just wanna say real quick I love your fics!! And if you're still doing requests what about fem reader x Knoxville and them dealing with the paparazzi. Reader gets super overwhelmed by them but Knox is always there and protective of reader. 🥺💕

One Hand to Drive

Johnny Knoxville x reader

A/N: Thank you!! I wrote this using my experience with anxiety because it's what I know (sorry if it's not what you were hoping for!) feel free to send in any other requests you have, at the moment I write for Brandon Flowers, Johnny Knoxville, Steve Harrington and Anthony Bridgerton :)

My relationship with Johnny Knoxville is the best relationship that I’ve ever been in. Everything just feels easy when I’m around him and despite what fans see on the TV when they watch him in Jackass, he’s so careful around me, making sure that I’m okay and comforting me when I see him get hurt doing a stunt.

The only downside to this relationship was the fact that we’re right in the middle of the public eye. With Jackass being so popular, people are constantly coming up to Johnny in the street which is completely fine, Johnny loves meeting his fans and he’s always so nice to them. However, for every nice person that approaches him on the street you have herds of paparazzi following our every move and other fans coming up to flirt with him, sometimes right in front of me. Every time, Johnny turns it into a joke and lets them down easily but it still makes me feel a bit crappy.

Me and Johnny were walking hand in hand down the street, enjoying a rare afternoon we both have off together. We’d gone for lunch before Johnny insisted that he wanted to buy me a gift, not taking no for an answer so I’d dragged him into my favourite bookshop and chose a book, now we were heading home.

‘Nice day?’ he asked.

‘Nice day,’ I replied, ‘thank you for my book, you know you didn’t have to get me anything though.’

‘I wanted to treat my girl, if I had my way, I’d have gotten you something different from a book.’

‘Yeah, well I love it.’

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too,’ I smiled as he stopped us in the middle of the street and leaned down to kiss me sweetly. One of my hands still in his, I put my other hand on his forearm as he heard them.

‘Johnny! Over here!’

Johnny sighed lightly as he cheated his body to cover me from the cameras, ‘sorry darlin,’ he said softly.

‘It’s fine,’ I said, feeling my anxiety start to creep up my chest and I knew Johnny saw the change in my body language because he squeezed my hand tighter, letting me know he was still here.

We carried on walking down the street, not acknowledging the paparazzi as they continued to follow us, shouting questions at both me and Johnny.

‘Where have you been?’

‘When are we seeing the next Jackass film?’

‘Is it true you and (Y/N) are moving in together?’

‘Just ignore them darlin,’ Johnny said in my ear as they started to get closer to us, trying to get us to answer their questions.

By this time, my anxiety had skyrocketed and my hand had begun to shake slightly in Johnny’s hand. Noticing this, Johnny pulled me around so I was walking directly in front of him, both his arms now reaching round my body, keeping me close but giving himself enough space so he wouldn’t trip over me, his hand never leaving mine. As soon as I felt myself surrounded by Johnny, I felt my heartrate begin to slow, comforted by the scent of cigarettes, mint toothpaste and Johnny’s cologne.

By the time we reached the car, my heart had completely gone back to normal and I’d partially relaxed in Johnny’s arms.

‘Sorry about that darlin, I didn’t think they’d be around today,’ Johnny said as he started up the car, still holding my hand.

‘It’s not your fault, Johnny and I can handle them most of the time like at your premieres, it’s just when I’m not expecting them, I don’t know, it just freaks me out,’ I said, disentangling our hands as he started driving.

‘Woah what you doing darlin,’ he said, chasing my hand back, linking our fingers once again and pulling my hand over to rest in his lap, keeping control of the car with one hand, ‘I only need one hand to drive.’

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

Hi there 😊 I read something you'd posted and really enjoyed your writing style! I was wondering if you could do a fic where future Kazutora deals with a female reader who is a bright and bubbly type person, but one who also has no real desire to live? Basically Dazai from Bungo Stray Dogs but is also really sweet if that makes any sense? 😂 just kinda curious how an older Kazutora would deal with someone like that. Thanks so much for taking the time to read all this 💕

Hello!

I am sorry for taking so long, I was super busy!

I hope you enjoy what I have to offer!

Thank you for liking my style! I appreciate the kind words! ❤️❤️

Tsuki's note: I know I am late, but with the manga ending I got into a kazutora vibe. Maybe being busy got you lucky?

As you said fic, I actually wrote a piece and didn't do hc. Was that what you asked for?

TW: mention of being tired of life and negativity.

-----------------------------------------------

You have known Kazutora ever since you two were kids. You were close to Baji, so you saw him and Chifuyu quite often.

But your life wasn't all flowers. Like I have said, you were close to Baji as a kid and that was a huge contrast. You were kind and sweet, he was wild and ready to fight - his friends were no different.

Most people found it odd how they always got your back whenever trouble appeared. You, on the other hand, were always patching them up to the best of your ability and getting worried all the time.

As you got older things started to take a dark turn for you. You lost Baji, then a few other people, then you weren't able to do the things you wanted and so on.

You tried to stay positive, but it was hard when you had nothing to look forward to. That made you a bit… quirky? You were still kind and sweet, cheerful even. But you often joked how nice it would be to never wake up again.

After Baji passed away you were mad at Kazutora. Beyond mad, actually. But Baji and Kazutora were the only ones that believed you when you got into trouble as kids. So you owned him - believe him this time when he said he would change.

So you started visiting him in jail. At first he was hesitant to get close to you. He felt guilty, dirty and undeserving of your attention.

You, on the other hand, were always cheerfully telling him small updates of what you knew from touman and things in general. Like when you got a pet or when Chifuyu did something a little stupid.

You also brought him little gifts! He wasn't allowed to receive objects, but you gave him sweets on special occasions.

So he slowly warmed up to you and soon, you were both looking forward to seeing each other.

He also noticed you slowly started joking about being tired of waking up. And soon those jokes started to concern him.

He got desperate to help you, but the best he could do was ask about your day and if you were OK.

When he gained his freedom again, you two hung out quite often, now he could actually check on you. One thing led to another, so you know, you two became a thing.

Today started like always - you woke up and went to your respective work. Kazutora helped Chifuyu in the petshop and you had a job as a secretary in a company.

Here is the thing - today turned out to be a crappy day. Your boss demanded so much of you, as you cannot say anything, you just smiled your frustrations away.

They weren't usually like that. Your boss was nice most of the time and treated you well! But when they got under pressure they seemed a total stranger.

You texted Kazutora, he said he was closing the shop today. You usually head his way to wait for him and go home together, but today you replied with: " will wait for you with dinner ~❤️" and that was enough for him to know something was off.

He sighed at your text and replied with " sure, be careful. I will get take out".

Your turn to sigh. You got home a little relieved you didn't need to cook. So you just melted away on the couch waiting for Kazutora, tears were starting to bubble on your eyes.

As soon as he got home, you chirped up and called for him:

Y/N: Tora!!

He totally knew what was next. Right after you called, you would jump on his neck and give him a kiss on cheek. So he prepared himself for the impact.

You loved how he would just smile a bit and wait for you with open arms. He puts you down, caress your cheek - you lean towards his hand - and asks you:

Kazutora: Y/N? What's wrong?

You just hummed. You pulled him further inside by the hand. He sighed at your antics, but didn't really push you to talk.

During dinner you were babbling about your day. He was shaking mental notes to what you were saying - so far so good - he was trying to figure out what made you upset.

When you finally got it, you told the story in such a cheerful way that was heartbreaking. As if that moment of being mistreated and highly demanded was just a normal thing, like taking a walk in the park.

He just blinked at you. You were amazing in so many ways, even having a bad day, here you were cheerfully talking to him, you hugged and kissed him when he got home.

When you were done talking and asked about his day, he sighed:

Kazutora: Y/N? Are you ok?

Y/N: Oh,I am fine! It's just a bad day! Nothing that a good sleep won't fix!

Kazutora: Are you sure?

He was already cooking up a date idea to take you on the weekend. A day to pamper you.

Y/N: Yeah! Nothing like a free trial of death can't solve!

Kazutora: Y/N, don't say things like that…

Y/N: C'mon! It's perfect! It's like a nice peaceful rest with you! Of course the real deal together would be great ~ ❤️

He sighed and giggled a bit. He patted your head as he got up to take the dished away:

Kazutora: Why don't you go ahead and get ready to sleep?

You pouted a bit:

Y/N: What kind of ideal free trial is this without you?

Kazutora: I will be there in a minute.

You listened him. But instead of just getting ready yourself, you thought of doing something nice for him too. So you fixed the bed in a way where he could lay on your stomach and you be comfortable.

When he saw you standing in front of the bed, he gently touched your back:

Kazutora: Y/N? What you doing?

Y/N: Preparing! See? This way I can have you in my arms and get comfortable!

He giggled at you again. He kissed your cheek and asked you to go first with a smile on his face:

Kazutora: I will humor you this time, c'mon, let's enjoy the death free trial.

You giggle and jumped to your spot. As soon as you nested yourself there he laid his head on your stomach:

Kazutora: Y/N?

Y/N: Yes?

Kazutora: I love, but please, drop the talk of giving up, will you?

Y/N: …. But it would be a nice rest!

Kazutora: I like this kind of rest. Listening to your heart beating.

You blushed. He always said sweet things when you mentioned being tired of waking up everyday.

His words were always so sweet and genuine, that made you smile and change your mind for the time being.

For you, anywhere with him was home, was safe. You would never actually try anything against your own safety, not because of yourself, but because of him.

He loved you, for you and he needed you just as much as you needed him, here, in your arms sleeping soundly and safe.

-----------------------------------------------

Thank you for requesting!

I hope this is what you requested!

Let me know what you think!

Aaaah wish I could see more of him. But sadly will only get crumbs !

[ticklishlasquadra]

Liar, Liar (OC tickle fic)

So it was only matter of time before I wrote something with some of my OCs, so here’s just a lil upper-body (tummy) tickle fic featuring my bby boy Sue and my bby girl Anya. Sue is shy and has a crush on Anya. Anya is oblivious and adorable.

Or alternately, Sue should probably wear different clothes if he doesn’t want tickles.

-

It was at that moment that Sue knew he wouldn’t make it to the end of the day. No, he would surely do something stupid and would die of sheer embarrassment. Sue should’ve known Gigi was going to pull something like this.

Today’s movie night was supposed to be with the entire group. But for some reason, just as Anya arrived at Sue’s place, KC said he couldn’t make it. Then Elias said the same thing. It was when Gigi texted him “cant make it, have fun, you two! ;)” that Sue realized this definitely was some sort of set up.

Not that hanging out with just Anya was a problem. Quite the opposite, really. But Anya was just so sweet and gentle and pretty, and Sue was…Sue. Awkward, quiet, painfully shy. He knew he harbored some sort of feelings for his friend, but he made sure to keep that under wraps. Or at least he tried to. Emphasis on the word ‘tried’.

“Sue? Are you alright?”

Sue was jerked out of his thoughts as Anya sat down next to him on the couch, offering a bowl of popcorn.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Sue nodded, trying not to sound too distracted. “Uh, I was thinking you could pick the movie, if you wanted to.”

Anya smiled and he could swear he felt his stomach flutter. “You sure? You might end up having to watch a Disney movie or a crappy romcom.”

Sue shrugged before handing Anya the remote. “Go ahead, it’s all yours.”

The woman took the remote and happily began looking through one of the streaming services on Sue’s tv. In the corner of Sue’s eyes, he watched Anya, making sure it wasn’t obvious. She looked so excited to pick a movie for the two of them. It was a lovely look on her.

Anya ended up picking one of the older Disney movies, always a fan of the classics. She started the movie and leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable against the back cushion. Sue wasn’t huge on Disney movies or anything, but he was happy to see Anya happy, so his opinion didn’t matter.

However, it didn’t take long for Sue to get fidgety. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, especially when he was nervous like he was now.

“Still okay?” Anya asked with another bright smile. “You look kind of…uncomfortable.”

“No, no, not at all! Just, uh, trying to get comfy, that’s all,” Sue insisted, not wanting Anya to think she did anything wrong.

With a soft giggle, Anya opened her arms. “Here, c’mere! Gigi said I’m pretty comfortable.”

Sue’s face flushed a bright pink. Was she seriously asking him to sit in her lap? Their other friends didn’t have any issues being that close to Anya, so why should he?

Biting back his anxiety, Sue slowly nodded and carefully, so carefully crawled into Anya’s lap. He immediately felt small. Anya was pretty tall, clocking in at about 6’0, much taller than Sue, who was about 5’6. Sue was also lanky, while Anya was a little more broad. Still, it was a nice feeling.

“Th-thanks,” Sue stuttered, trying to mask his nerves with a cough.

Anya flashed another brilliant smile and gently wrapped her arms around Sue’s midsection, holding him to her with his back against her chest. “Let me know whenever you wanna get up.”

“Yeah, of course.”

The two’s attention went back to the movie, at least Anya’s did. Sue was having an inner crisis in his mind. He’d hugged Anya many times before, but this was the first time he was ever this close to her for more than just a few seconds. It was simultaneously the best and worst thing of his life.

Sensing Sue was starting to overthink as usual, Anya lightly brushed her fingertips over his bare stomach. He immediately squeaked, his body tensing.

“Sorry, did I do something?” Anya asked, playing dumb.

Sue cleared his throat and shook his head. “Nah, you’re good.”

Anya hummed before repeating the action. “Aren’t you kind of cold wearing those tops that show off your stomach all the time?” she asked playfully, fingers starting to skitter in a circle.

Sue tried not to squirm as giggles fell from his lips. “H-hehehehey!”

Anya giggled too, loving the way something so small could make the usually serious man turn into a silly mess. “That wasn’t an answer,” she said, using her long, manicured nails to tease at the spot where Sue’s ribs met his stomach.

Sue couldn’t help the way he arched up into her touch, giggles turning into full on laughter. “Ahahahahanya!! Dohohohon’t!” he exclaimed, but as much as he tried to twist away, Anya’s arms kept in him place.

“You’re awfully wiggly for someone who told everyone in the group chat that you weren’t ticklish,” Anya teased.

The man inwardly cursed, as he thought that would deter his friends from trying to tickle him. “I’m nohohohot!”

Anya gasped softly, her hands suddenly stopping. “I think you’re lying…and you know what happens to liars?” she asked innocently.

Sue’s cheeks only darkened. He’d heard this one before whenever the group of them would have to resort to ticklishly unconventional methods to get KC to go to sleep after pulling multiple all-nighters. Still, Sue shook his head like he had no idea.

“Well,” Anya spoke as if she was speaking about something as mundane as the weather. “Liars get…”

A pause.

“Tickled!”

Before Sue could say anything, Anya’s nails were back on his stomach, this time at a much quicker pace. Sue burst into laughter, trying not to kick his feet as he had to sit there and take whatever Anya did to him.

Anya’s nails felt like millions of little bugs on crawling on his stomach and it was driving Sue insane.

“Ahahahahanya, dohohohon’t, I-!”

His words were cut off when he felt his friend’s hands moving, one just above his stomach and one just under. Without any hesitation, Anya tickled and tickled and tickled those spots like crazy.

“ANYA, plehehehease!” Sue whined through his squeals.

“Please what?” Anya’s fingers slowed to a teasing pace. That was almost even worse.

“Plehehehehease, mehehehehercy!”

Anya tilted her head in thought. “Hmmm…not until you tell me the truth,” she decided.

“Whahahahat??”

“Tell me the truth, tell me that you’re ticklish, silly!” Anya usually wasn’t so forward or teasing, Sue briefly wondered if she had taken some inspiration from Gigi or Elias.

Sue was about to deny it. He was ready to argue. But then Anya’s fingers went over his navel and he was gone.

“Fihihihihine, I’m-! I’m tihihihicklish!! Anya, plehehehease!” Sue begged, his nerves feeling all kinds of electric.

Anya finally stopped, letting the man catch his breath. “Sorry, Sue, I didn’t go too far, did I?” she asked, a smile on her lips but slight worry in her voice.

Sue quickly shook his head, chest slowly rising up and down as he the giggles subsided. “N-no, no. Just uh…didn’t expect you to do that.”

Anya gave Sue a loose hug, giving the option for him to pull away if he wanted to. However, he made no movements to leave her lap.

“You’re so cute,” Anya chirped, and Sue thought his brain short circuited for a brief moment.

What should he even say to that? Thanks? You too? He started to overthink yet again before Anya’s voice pierced his thoughts.

“So, honestly, do you get cold wearing these shirts?” She punctuated the question with a small tap to Sue’s stomach, making him flinch.

“No, not really.”

“Hmm, maybe I could find a shirt like that for myself!”

And once more, Sue’s mind short circuited.

[jessiebanethedragon]

I Just Have to Get This Off My Chest

Din x Reader (SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 15) 

is the title the title of the fic or is it the explanation as to way i wrote this instead of the three essay’s i have due soon. Who knows? certainly not me. 

You had not felt well for some time. Every moment that was not distracted by something else allowed you to feel the pooling sickness in your stomach. Grogu was gone. 

You had cried only in private, hidden away in the forest of Tython, covering your tears with your hands and sobbing into the ground. Din had never felt so powerless, when you finally re-emerged from the wooded area, he said nothing of the invasion of privacy he’d committed via the sensors on his helmet. Instead he walked up the ramp of Slave I with you to leave the cursed planet. Maybe, you were thankful for Mayfeld’s incessant chatter. It gave you something to focus on other than the missing warmth in your heart that was occupied by the little green creature. 

“You still with us?” he asked, turning around and waving a hand over your face. It snaps you back to the moment, but the guilty feeling does not fade completely.  

“Yeah,” You breathe. And finally relent, pulling off the helmet for fresh air. Din turns his head ever so slightly to catch the way your hair becomes messy. “Focus.” he reprimands Mayfeld, you almost feel bad for the guy, you're both so on edge he’s driving with ticking time bombs, and that’s without the Rhydonium.

“Where.” Din demands, roughly pressing his hands into the gaps between the baggy fitting armor. One of the pirates landed a solid blow to your side and the mandalorian wont let it go. 

“Mando i’m fine.” You tell him, huffing when his hands get rougher trying to feel underneath the crappy empire issues durasteel. 

“Where did you get hit.” He demands again, hands landing on your shoulders and shaking you slightly. Mayfeld is right, Din is desperate. 

“Din…” You whisper side glancing to make sure prying ears are out of reach. “I’m okay, I promise.” You wonder for a second if you should put your forehead against his, something he’d done after the fight with Moff Gideon, after you thought you’d never see him again. You remember seeing him limp down with IG-11, barely alive in the darkness. You remember running to him without thinking twice, the stupid, stupid, mandalorian who would rather die than break his creed. The stupid mandalorian you know now you cannot live without. 

“Hey, you two might want to stop acting like a couple of DUM - Pit Droids because we’ve got a problem.” Mayfeld says jogging over to you both. 

“What.” Din snaps the unfamiliar hemet turning to the man at hand. You hate how it looks on him, it is strange, unfamiliar, so un-him that you’re longing for him to get the Beskar back on. 

“I can’t go in there.” He says gesturing behind him. “That’s Valin Hess, I served under him, I'll be recognized.”  You lean over to look at the officer, and then behind you into the open area. 

“The officers' quarters are close enough.” You think aloud. “Stay here, I'll drop a detonator. Distract them.” 

“No way you can make the trip without being caught.” Mayfeld argues. 

“Hey, I used to do this professionally. Let me handle it.” You tell him with a small smile, this is herding Bantha’s compared to your old job. 

“Kriffing spy’s” Mayfeld murmurs. 

“As far as the empire is concerned I’m still an official agent.” You correct him, and you turn to leave but a gloved hand wraps around your wrist, his iron grapes holding you back. You look at the unfamiliar mask, and slowly, Din loosens his hold and watches you go.

The hallways are always the same, no matter how many planets, or ships you were stationed on, the empire always looked the same, your boots always made the same sounds, and an uncaught rebel-spy always knew where she was going. Order, Mayfelds voice echoes in your mind, yes there is order here. But Grogu isn’t. And that’s what matters to you right now, nothing else but the poor child that you’d had the fortune stumbling upon on a Navaro recon mission. You praise your own inability to let go of the past, for without it you never would’ve been investigating the imperial outpost, never would have met a cold mandalorian and never learnt that he, in fact, burned brighter than any kyber crystal in the galaxy. 

The detonator rolls smoothly from your hand as you turn away from the barracks. Jogging back to the control center a soft smile on your face as the hiss and pop sends the familiar signals blaring. When the coast is clear you don’t stop running until you slide into the mess hall, and stop dead in your tracks. 

Din is gone. 

Mayfeld is standing over at least half a dozen bodies, save for one man who’s back is to you.  Your blood freezes when you make the realization as the helmetless man turns towards you. He has brown hair, and you can see where the helmet has ruffled his curls. The slight scruff highlights his face, and draws you in towards his eyes. His wonderful brown eyes. 

It’s the mandalorian. It’s your Mandalorian. 

You know you should close your eyes, but they can’t move from his, so many nights on the razor crest were spent wondering about the colour of his eyes.

“You ever seen his face?” The memory of Mayfeld in a different place at a different time floods you. The way he teased about how close you and the mandalorian couldn’t be, because you didn’t know what he looked like. Pressing you against the bars of the prison they’d trapped him in, laughing when you couldn’t even give them a name. Taunting your own life in front of you at the end of a blaster. “She doesn’t know!” Xi’an sneered as you fought against Qin pinning you into the bars, using you as a tool in his revenge.  It is as if you are meeting him for the first time again, the man in shiny beskar who had whispered his name to you after the incident involving Mayfeld himself. The mandalorian who ran his fingers over the marks the bars had indented into your skin. “Din. my name is Din.”

“I’ll go look… actually i’ll secure the roof.” Mayfeld stumbles through his words watching as you tear up at seeing, really seeing him for the first time. You choke on your word when he crosses the room stopping when he hears the small noise. Noticing how you finally seem to come back into yourself and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Cyare.” He says, sounding so different without the helmet on. 

“Put it back on.” You rush out. “I didn’t see, we’ll kill Mayfeld, keep your creed.” you know it’s a lie, but you say the words in a jumble anyways. 

“We were running out of time, this was my choice. Open your eyes, it’ll be okay.” Din reassures you. So you take a deep breath and listen to him. 

“You’re so handsome.” You say without thinking, because he’s stunning up close, where you can see every detail in full. Standing mouth slightly agape as you memorize your mandalorian’s face. Your hand goes to touch him but you stop yourself, Din notices of course, and guides your hand to his face. You were right. He does burn brighter than any kyber crystal in the galaxy. Heated honey to your touch. 

“I’m in love with you.” You’re learning many things about the man under the mask today, maybe it’s time he learns something about you. So you thread your hands into his hair and pour your love into a kiss. Din gasps, shocked, and part of you wonders if this is his first. But he reciprocates by moving his arms around your middle to bring you as close as possible to him.

When you part because of shots outside, he puts the helmet back on. And you immediately wish you had had a chance to kiss him again before he did.

[idy-ll-ique]

Balisong.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Roommate AU

Requested: by @tom-hlover

Tom Hiddleston x (roommate) reader where reader is harboring a secret crush on Tom, but she thinks that Tom only sees her as a friend, she loves to sing when she's alone, and sends Tom letters through the mailbox making it seem from another place,but in reality the return address is from her friend's address whom is out of the country and lets reader use the address for now, as she is serving as the house's caretaker as well 😅😅 until Tom finds out and also turns out hears reader's singing? And I was thinking of the song "Bali Song" by Rivermaya for that one particularly 😅😅😊😊

Summary: Y/N, who is roommates with Tom Hiddleston (omg they were roommates) has a crush on him and instead of confessing her love like a normal person, she writes him love-letters using a fake identity and address. What happens when Tom finds out, though?

Warnings: None

Author's Note: Hey guys! Special shoutout to @tom-hlover for the prompt, finished writing it under an hour so you have to excuse me if it's crappy. Enjoy!

---

Y/N POV:

"Oh, look, another letter from the secret admirer. I wonder what she wrote this time."

I looked up from where I was tending to the houseplants and gave Tom a quick grin. "Endearing words, as always. She does like you a lot," I professed with a slight chuckle, giving him a small smile and looking away when I felt a blush creeping up on my cheeks.

Tom sat down on the couch and opened the letter. "Dear Tom…" I stopped listening after that, I knew the whole thing to heart anyway. Wondering how? Well, I was the one who wrote it, simple! Let me explain. I'm Y/N Y/L/N and the person I was speaking to? Tom Hiddleston, my roomie.

Yeah we lived together; we had been friends for a long time and I needed a place so Tom offered to keep me at his home until I found another home. Nearly 5 years had passed since that incident and now we sort of just lived together, fallen into a nice, daily routine. I also happened to have a huge, huge, huge crush on him. Knowing how many other people, much better than myself, adored him, I kept my feelings to myself.

Oh and by the way, I paid my share of the rent so don't come at me! "She's so sweet with these, I might just pay her a visit! What is the address?" I looked up, wide-eyed as Tom took the envelope in his hand. "Do you really need to?" I blurted out, turning red when he squinted his eyes at me. "Do you know this person?" he blinked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course I don't," I muttered, "You know what? Fine, go meet this person. I just hope they're not, you know, a psychopath." Yes, I knew I was talking about myself but was I wrong, though? Instead of confessing my feelings like a normal person, I was sending letters to my crush like I lived in the Victorian Era, using my best friend's address while she was out living somewhere else.

"I'm sure she's not. Anyway, what are your plans for later?" He let out a yawn, slouching on the couch. "Nothing much, I finish some work and then bam, dinner time." Tom laughed. "I have an interview early tomorrow, so I'm going to sleep early tonight. What do you want for dinner?" I shrugged. "Anything's fine, thanks!" He ruffled my hair and got up, going to the kitchen.

Okay, I see a lot of you are staring in confusion, let me clear things up yet again. I liked Tom for nearly 3 years now, but had no idea how to proceed with my feelings. Did he even like me back? Would he even like me back? That's when my best friend gave me a brilliant idea.

She said she was moving elsewhere and that her previous house was going to be empty but she was still going to be the owner. "Hey, Y/N, maybe you can go live there if you want!" she suggested. And I told her, "Hm, I'll think about it." Ever since then, I was the caretaker of the house, visiting it once a week to see if everything was okay with it.

One day when I was there, looking out the balcony into the garden, I came across the said brilliant idea. Why don't I just send letters to Tom from this address confessing my love?! He didn't know about it, and I technically won't be telling him anything in person. A great way to get the feelings off my chest while not getting the feelings off my chest!

Ever since then, I had started writing letters to him, once a week. Most of them were small, one paragraph long, along the lines of "hey how are you I love you thanks" while in some, I included lovesick quotes from famous authors like William Shakespeare, Virginia Woolf, Jane Austen or Anaïs Nin. Tom was a fanatic of classical literature, it only made sense.

With a sigh, I got up and went to my room, getting started with my work only to end up spending all my time on social media until Tom called me over for dinner.

---

Tom POV:

"Ah, yes, this is the address," I said to myself, stopping outside a beautiful estate surrounded by pretty gardens. I parked the car and stepped out, heading to the door. As I was about to knock, I noticed that the door was locked. "Huh?" I whispered, maybe she wasn't home at the time? "Excuse me, sir? I saw your car parked outside…" I turned to see an old man blinking at me.

"Where's the woman who lives here?" I asked him. "Woman? This house has been empty for years, son, the last woman that lived here moved to the colonies 3 years ago." My eyes widened. So all this time, I was getting letters from… a ghost? Or was someone using a false address?

"Are you sure no one comes by, or anything?"

"Well, a fair young lady does stop by every week. Her name is Y/N Y/L/N, very polite and kind, she's like a daughter to me. She looks after the house; she's looking to move in, I guess but I'm not sure. Nice meeting you, young man! If you do want to meet up with the pseudo-owner, Y/N, she will stop by next Sunday at 11 am."

"Oh, I wouldn't need to do that," I muttered, bade him farewell and got back into the car. Well well well, things just got… interesting. I smiled widely as I drove back home. I had no idea Y/N felt the same way! All this time, the one-sided pining was actually mutual pining… it all ends today. Now that I knew she liked me back and my love wasn't in vain, there was nothing that could stop me from confessing.

Upon reaching home, I quietly opened the door only to see that Y/N was in the kitchen, singing a song unknown to me as she cooked. Like a thief, I tiptoed in and quietly closed the door behind me. I walked up to the kitchen, stopping when I heard the lyrics.

To speak or not to, where to begin

A great dilemma I'm finding myself in

For all I know you only see me as a friend

I try to tell myself, "Wake up, fool

This fairytale has got to end"

I leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, finding it strange that she still hadn't taken notice of me. You only see me as a friend? Nonsense, I definitely liked her more than that. For some reason, the lyrics seemed familiar— Oh yes, the song Y/N apparently liked to sing all the time! What was the name, uh…

Never in my life have I been more sure

So come on up to me and close the door

Nobody's made me feel this way before

You're everything I wanted…

When she (amazingly) sang those lines, I decided to make my move. I walked forward and put my arms around her from behind, laughing when she screamed. "Tom! Oh my God, when did you come home?!" I spun her around, trapping her between the kitchen counter and myself. "A few minutes ago. You sing wonderfully, love," I smirked. She visibly gulped. "Uh, what are you—"

"Don't play dumb now. Aren't you the one who writes those letters? Don't lie to me." Her eyes went wide. "How did you find out? I'm sorry, I—" I cut off her trail of words by leaning down, capturing her lips with mine in a magical kiss. She, thankfully, didn't push away, instead wrapping her arms around me.

"I didn't think you'd like me back," she mumbled when we pulled away to breathe. "All that matters is that we're together now." She chuckled and snuggled into my arms. With a content sigh, I pulled her close, running my fingers through her hair as I held her close. "I love you," I said simply, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "I love you too, think that's quite obvious."

We laughed. "How did you find out, though? What gave it away?" She got out of my arms and turned back to her cooking. I leaned against the counter next to her, crossing my arms. "I just visited the address on the letter. The door was locked, then I met an old man who said the person who lived there moved to the USA 3 years ago."

"My best friend, Y/F/N."

"He told me your name, saying how you went there every Sunday to look after the house. How come I didn't know?"

"Oh, Bertram. I always lied about going out on Sundays. I guess we sort of owe our relationship to Bert, don't we?"

I laughed and kissed her on the temple. "For sure, we do. What is that song you sing all the time, you were singing it just now?" She snorted and took out her phone, opening Spotify. She put on the song and turned to me, holding her hand out. "Balisong by Rivermaya. Care for a dance?"

"Don't mind if I do."

---

A/N: Oooh two fics in a row?? leave a like if you enjoyed lol thanks for reading!

[rmg91]

Zoe Week; Day 6-A Night Off

AKA Comfort Zoe Night

So, this was the first prompt I actually wrote cause it spoke the most to me (the fluffy potential) but then the muses decided to be difficult and I struggled with it until like 2 days before Zoe Week began. I also wound up scrapping my partial first draft and re-writing the first bit to be slightly based off some wonderful Teny art because I realized it could still fic with my idea! (Gotta love great art that inspires) (The art in question is those wonderful pics of Zoe and Douxie as he meets her after a shift at Hextech and then precedes to be a little shit) Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this one and hopefully it doesn’t end too abruptly, like I said the muses wanted to be difficult with this one.

AO3

~*~*~*~*~*~

The night was clear and cool, something that would usually bring calm to the pink haired witch as she walked home from another busy day at Hex-Tech but not tonight. The day had been absolutely brutal. First she'd had the early shift, which was never fun, then she'd been assigned to the bar for almost the entirety of her shift which meant dealing with all sorts of customers. The irritable, the entitled, the ones that just wouldn't listen, it had almost driven her insane by the time her lunch break arrived. It was only after slurping down a cup of noodles and sending a curse heavy text on how crappy her day had been so far to Douxie that she got the wonderful news that she had to work a double shift. She was so going to curse Dave the next time she saw him, she always got his shifts whenever he didn't come in. And of course that extra shift came with, you guessed it, more bar duty! So Zoe had dealt with double the awful customers! Including two absolute Karen's. Why her managers kept putting her in the front when her talents lay better with the tech itself, she'd never understand.

At least she was finally off for the weekend...

Coming around the last corner before her apartment building, she spied her longtime partner and lover, Hisirdoux, leaning against the chain-link fence, waiting for her. She paused for a moment, taking in the rare relaxed air around him and admiring his bare biceps for a moment before sighing, knowing why he was waiting for her. And usually she'd be ready to go hunt Niffins and take on whatever else they might encounter on a Friday night, especially after the day she had, but she was too beat to do anything more. So shifting her bag in her grip, she made her way closer to the wizard, not looking forward to canceling their plans.

“Ah! The fair lady approaches!” He exclaimed, noticing her first with a smirk before his face soften, “Rough day, Love?”

“Uuugg!! You have no idea!!” She groaned, knowing her text had said as much but now she could rant in person about just how bad it actually was. Stopping next to him, she ran her fingers through her hair before rubbing at her temples, trying to push down the migraine that had been brewing since two o'clock, “Not only did fuckin' Dave not come in, we had two, Two, Karen's come in! I was almost certain we'd have a third but thankfully her husband calmed her down. Of course then that entitled Spanish teacher had to come in, again, who, of course, I had to deal with! Not to mention all the other sorts that came in today... And! Because the universe's law apparently decided to hate me today, someone calls right before closing!” She groaned again, feeling annoyed anew rather than relieved after her rant. “Anyway, as much as I'd like to go Niffin hunting, I'm just too beat-!”

Distracted as she was with her rant, the hedge-witch hadn't noticed Douxie's arm sneaking around her before he wrapped it around her shoulder and laid a kiss on her head. He hummed into her hair, nuzzling her softly, “I'm so sorry your day sucked, Darling.”

“Yeah, well...” Zoe felt her cheeks heat up, sinking into the hug he started to give her and feeling most of the fight leave her suddenly. You'd think after almost five hundred years of being together romantically this sap wouldn't cause such a reaction but you'd be wrong. “It's over now, I guess...And I have the weekend off thankfully.”

“That you do~” Douxie sang into her ear before suddenly rubbing his hand over her head vigorously and messing up her hair, “And I'm sure you'll feel much better after a good nights sleep!!”

“Aaarrgggg!!!” Zoe cried out in surprise and anger, “Hisirdoux!!” She pushed him away, glaring at his grin before marching away, “Jerk! Why do I like you again?!”

“Because without me and Arch your life would be dreadfully boring~?”

She huffed and flattened down her hair, “Hardly.” She then glared over her shoulder, “You are so sleeping on the couch tonight, or better yet, your own apartment when you get done.” She honestly wondered why she put up with his antics.

Douxie merely laughed some more, catching up to her and wrapping his arm around her waist, “Actually, Love, I've decided we're all taking the night off.” When she looked up at him with a disbelieving look he responded, “Really! Wards are already in place around town, so if there's any trouble, Arch and I can go take care of it but otherwise...” The wizard shrugged, “We're all off for the night and you have a little surprise waiting for you~”

“A surprise? Really?” She glared up at him, still annoyed, “I doubt whatever it is will make up for that stunt you just did...”

“I think it will~!” He sang.

Zoe huffed and crossed her arms, muttering a 'whatever' and allowing him to escort her to her apartment building and up to her home. Entering, she dropped her bag and kicked her shoes off by the door, striding over to where Archie was laying on the back of the couch and greeting the familiar with a chin scratch. Glancing around she saw nothing out of the ordinary with the exception that her sink was now empty of the few dishes she'd left there. If that was her so called 'surprise' than it was going to take a lot more than him doing her dishes for her to calm down from that surprise noogie. Lifting an eyebrow at the wizard, silently asking just what exactly he had planned, she watched him grin again before he offered up his arm to her.

“Come with me, Milady~ Your surprise awaits~”

Looking back down at Archie, the black cat merely stretched and stated, “I've been sworn to secrecy.”

Right, of course. Rolling her eyes, the pink hair witch allowed Douxie to guide her down her own hallway, stopping in front of the bathroom. Usually she could sniff out an idea on what he liked to surprise her with but tonight between her exhaustion and the fact that she was still a little annoyed with him, made her question just what he could've set up in the bathroom of all things.

Grinning down at her, Douxie gently pushed the door open and snapped his fingers. A dozen candles lit with the small pulse of magic, illuminating the simple space with a soft orange light and revealing the steaming, bubble filled bath. The light aura of blue magic indicated a warming spell, keeping it the perfect temperature for when she got home. Zoe let out a soft breath, feeling most of her annoyance leave, and leaned against him, letting him wrap his arms around her and nuzzle the top of her head. Trust this wonderful sap to fix her up something like this after she'd rough day at work. Sometimes Zoe wondered just what she did to have someone like Hisirdoux Casperan in her life but she certainly wasn't going to be ungrateful about it. She was even willing to let the whole noogie thing go...mostly.

“I want you to know I don't completely forgive you for that stunt outside but this...is a nice surprise.” She could even make out the light scents of tangerine and patchouli wafting from some of the candles. “And you can't always get away with something like that either.”

He chuckled low, placing a soft kiss on her head, “Of course, Love~” He carefully stepped back, bowing in an exaggerated manner as he gestured to the bathroom, “Now, do please enjoy, Milady, and once you're are done a meal will be ready for you.”

She snorted, “You can't cook.”

He clicked a pair of finger guns at her, “No but I can work an oven!” He then left her to her own devices with a final grin.

Zoe rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly. Gods he was a dork.

~*~*~*~

Twenty minutes later found Zoe happily relaxing in her bath, feeling better after the day she'd had, eyes closed as she listened the soft tunes playing from her small radio. She had to hand it to Douxie, he had thought of everything when setting all this up. The candles were the right amount of light, the radio was already set to play and the bath was filled with her favorite brand of bubble bath. There had even been a rolled up towel for behind her head as she leaned back in the tub. Humming along softly to the music, Zoe only wished for one last thing to make this perfect.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the door opened slowly just enough to allow a wine glass surrounded by blue magic to float in. Laughing lightly, she grabbed it out of the air, taking a sip before calling out, “Thank you but you could've given me it in person.”

“A gentleman never intrudes on a lady.” Was her response before she was left alone again to enjoy her bath.

~*~*~*~

Zoe eventually emerged, having stayed long enough for her fingers to prune slightly and for the water to grow cold, plus her stomach kept protesting the lack of food. So she made her way into the living room wrapped in one of Douxie's old bad shirts and a hoodie she had stolen, breathing in the scent of a freshly cooked frozen pizza. She was passed a plate with two large slices of her favorite kind, three meat with extra mushrooms, and had her glass refilled before being pointed over to go recline on the couch. Shaking her head, she followed the silent order and sat down, digging in before her boys were settled. Archie was passed a plate of salmon and sardines before Douxie joined her, his own plate balanced in a hand.

“So, what does the lady wish to watch tonight?” He asked, reaching for the remote and flipping through channels.

“Hmm...” The pinkette hummed, tucking her knees under her before taking a large bite of her pizza, “Don't really care. Just find something we can zone out to or make fun of.”

“As you wish~”

“Oh gods, no! Do not put that movie on!” She exclaimed, “I will kick you out if you do!”

Douxie laughed, almost spilling his dinner, “Very well! Not in the mood for it tonight.” He continued to chuckle as he flipped through more choices before settling on another horribly inaccurate film of a time they've lived through.

Later, once food was eaten and their movie had changed to something else, Zoe was snuggled against Douxie's side, on the verge of sleep. Archie was a ball of purring warmth on her lap and Douxie kept running soothing circles on her arm as she listened to his heartbeat. The witch was once again grateful to have these two in her life, not knowing just where she'd be without them. They made the bad days better. Wither it was helping her with a sprained ankle from running from goblins, helping her fight of a demon hellbent on kidnapping all the girls in a village or having to deal with crappy customers all day, they were always there beside her. Even if Douxie loved to take cheep shots that ultimately pissed her off even more. Zoe knew she'd always forgive him. And so, full, relaxed and loved, she fell asleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Aaahhh, Zoe loves her dork~ And gotta love cheesy endings lol! Hope you enjoyed and aahh!! Zoe week is almost over!

[berrynarrybanana]

Prince Charming - H.S

A/N: So I apparently posted this as private, but I have fixed that! This is my entry for @hunflowers​ Halloween Fic Challenge! Gianna, I hope that you had the most amazing birth month and the best Halloween. I wrote this little bit about spooky baking with H and a big surprise. I hope that everyone had a great halloween and I hope that you enjoy this fic! 

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: A shitty ex, smut, so much fluff “Harry, darling, please put that down.” I reached out, grabbing the ice cream scoop from his hand with a breathless chuckle. His eyes grew wide and he handed it over, crossing his arms behind his back with a cheeky grin as I turned towards the camera. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, today Harry and I are going to bake some Halloween treats for you all.”

“Before we start,” Harry glanced over at me. “Can I show you a trick?” 

“It depends.” I said slowly. “What is it?” 

“Have a little faith, sweets.” He smirked, reaching for three of the golden brown eggs that were sat on the countertop. “I’ve never done this in front of you before.”

“Don’t you dare.” I gasped out as he started to toss the eggs in the air. I lifted my hands to my mouth, my eyes growing wide. “Harry! We don’t have any other eggs. If you break those-”

“Calm down.” He settled them back into his palm after a few tosses into the air, each egg landing gently beside the next. “I’m a pro juggler, aren’t I?”

“You like to stress me out sometimes, I swear it.” I let out the breath that I had been holding, shaking my head out as he let out a loud chuckle. “Grimmy, I apologize in advance to you and your editing team for what you’re going to have to cut out in this video.”

Harry rolled his eyes, setting the eggs down on the counter. 

“So, essentially,” I glanced over the ingredients on the counter as Harry placed his hand gently on my hip. “We’ve got some serious baking to do and then some fun baking. Anne, Harry’s beautiful Mother, is hosting a Halloween party with a bake-off for everyone that lives round the village. Harry and I both decided that we don't want to bring shame to the Styles’ family name with crappy baking, so we’re doing something a little unorthodox.”

“The what?” Harry squeezed my hip with a smirk, holding back a laugh as he looked over my confused expression. “What family?”

“Don’t be cheeky, I said what I said.” I mumbled, my cheeks growing warm. “Going to the annual Holmes Chapel bakeoff with a Styles, aren’t I?”

“S’alright, you’ll be a Styles soon enough.” He pressed a teasing kiss to my temple and I rolled my eyes, exasperated and exhausted by his neverending proposal joke.

I hadn’t told him yet, but there was a certain Styles that was really pushing for a proposal. 

I rolled my lips in, doing my best to hold in the secret that was bubbling up in my chest. 

I looked at Harry as he pushed a few ingredients around absentmindedly, holding back the words that were practically clawing at my throat. 

“Well you better hurry up then,” I cleared my throat. “Got boys lining up around the block. Rather have my chance with one of them if you’re not gonna give me my ring soon.”

“Oi!” He glanced at the camera and then back at me. “There better no’ be any boys linin’ up ‘round this block.” 

He reached over for the toy sword that he’d insisted on buying at Homegoods during our Halloween shopping excursion. 

“You’re going to fight them off with that?” I giggled when he waved it in the air. “With poor posture and a terrible swing?”

“You’re just asking for it today, aren’t you?” He dropped the sword, narrowing his eyes. “I see how it is, then. Get back to your baking spiel, I’ll handle you later.”

“Kinky.” I turned towards the camera with my lips pressed together before I let out a loud laugh, Harry joining in right after. “I can’t do this with you, we’ll never get anything done.”

“Yes we will.” He reassured me. “Let’s crack on with it then.”

He reached for an egg and my eyes went wide as he prematurely cracked it, spilling the contents into the bowl carelessly. 

“Harry!”

                                         *****************************

“My favorite thing about baking is eating what you’ve done after.” Harry confessed with a tiny hum, his hand dipping the measuring cup into the flour bag. “Always liked to take a cheeky bite out of whatever Mary was working on at the bakery.”

“You still do that.” I teased, bumping my hip into his. “I caught you sneaking some chocolate chips earlier. Don’t you think for a second that I won’t call your Mum in here.”

Harry snorted out a laugh and I glanced up at him, raising my brows. 

“You wouldn’t dare, you little tattle tale.” He mumbled, narrowing his eyes back at me. 

I opened my mouth, but he was quick to press his lips to mine so that I wouldn’t speak. 

I laughed into the kiss, pulling back when he reached up with a floured hand to cup my cheek purely out of habit. 

“None of that.” I pushed his wrist away. “This is serious business we’re tending to and I won’t be the one to disappoint Anne at the neighborhood bakeoff because you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” 

Harry let out a soft huff, turning back to his flour with a pout on his lips. 

“And now he’s pouting.” I turned towards the camera with a fond smile on my lips. “He’s cute when he’s grumpy.”

“Don’t make me rethink this.” He grumbled. “Might have to dump the whole bag of flour on your head if you keep teasing me.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me.” I cooed, sliding my arms around his waist, nudging his arm out of the way until I was settled against his side. “You know why?” 

“Not a clue.” He hummed out, glancing down at me. I could see the smirk teasing the corners of his mouth and it only made me smile wider. “Why?” 

“Because you love me.” I said softly, hoping that the camera didn’t pick it up. “And I love you.”

“S’true.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Love you loads.”

“Love you loads.” I repeated back, closing my eyes as he wrapped one of his arms around me tightly. 

“What happened to serious business?” He asked, resting his cheek on the top of my head. 

“Few more minutes of this, then we can get back to it.”

                                                ***********************

“Come here,” I held my hand out, grabbing his chin gently. “Think you could use a bit more around your top lip.” 

“What do you mean?” He asked, his brows furrowing. “My mustache is starting to grow.”

“S’not a mustache it’s a shadow.” I secretly dipped my free hand into the chocolate icing behind Harry’s arm. “But I can fix that.”

I reached up, swiping my finger across his top lip generously before I darted away from him. 

Harry was quick to catch me, both arms looping around my waist until my back collided with his front. Before I knew what was happening, I felt cold goop dripping over my forehead and down my neck. I gasped, shrieking ever so slightly as he lifted me off my feet. I reached out for his arms as a puff of white powder washed over me, Harry’s hand patting the top of my head. 

“S’that what you wanted then?” He playfully growled in my ear. “You should know better than to tease your elders, sweet pea.”

“Harry!” I whined when he spun me around, my hands swatting his arms. I was a little fearful that him holding me like this wasn’t the best idea for the churning in the pit of my stomach that was set off so easily these days. “Put me down you oaf.”

“Promise to be nice to me?” He asked. 

“Harry, you did way more to me than I did to you.” I turned my head towards his pouting. “It’s not fair.”

“Alright, if I put you down, you get one more shot at it.” He said. “Only one more though, and you can’t crack an egg on my head.”

“Deal.” I said. 

“No. egg.” He repeated and I chuckled, nodding my head. “Alright, go for it.”

He sat my feet on the ground and naturally, I reached for an egg. 

I pressed it against his shirt, squishing it the best that I could as he gasped out. 

He looked down at his shirt and then to me. 

“You said not on your head.” I clarified, dropping the shells to the counter. “You didn’t say anything about anywhere else.” 

“You little shit.” he scoffed playfully. “It’s on.”

                                                 ******************

Three hours later, we were still caked in our baking goods. 

Harry and I had fallen into a comfortable silence, working around each other to prep the ingredients for our cake that would be entered into the bake-off. We weren’t master bakers by any means, but we were doing pretty damn well. The top tier was a black cauldron with little eyeballs sitting on top. When people cut into the cake, the eyeballs would ooze out a slime green, mint flavored icing that would compliment the dark chocolate flavor of the cake. The second layer was a pumpkin cake with flesh colored icing that tasted of cream cheese and housed a few fake stitches held together with staples. Harry had taken great care to create a few ladyfingers to stick on top of the second layer, curved towards the cauldron as if Frankenstein himself were holding it up. The bottom layer was a simple apple spice cake with black icing and easy piped spider webs. All together, it was a pretty solid cake. 

“We’re so fucking talented.” Harry stood back, looking over every last detail of the cake. “I’m actually really proud of us for doing this. It looks so good, sweets, and I just...we did that.”

“I know.” I stood next to him, snaking my arms around his middle as I stared at our masterpiece with a fond smile. 

I bit the inside of my cheek as he brushed his fingers over my shoulder in a soothing motion, my eyes welling up at the proud tone his voice emitted.

“I think we should join bakeoff next year.” I said quickly, hoping to distract myself. 

“Yeah, let’s see if Jeffrey approves of that.” Harry snorted, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as he glanced down at me. “Let’s go have a nice shower before the party. We can do our fun baking together at home.”

“I love you.” I said softly. “That’s a great plan, Styles. Let’s go get this gunk off of us and get ready for the night.”

                               ***************************************

Harry and I floated around each other in the bathroom that he shared with Gemma at Anne’s house. I stood side by side with Gemma, working on my eyeshadow while she messed about with her hair. It was decided around April that we would all dress up as Disney characters to keep with a theme during the bakeoff. There was a lot of arguing between the Styles children until a decision by Anne, Michael, and myself was made in regards to the costumes. 

Anne would be dressed as Mary Poppins, but modern. I had helped her pick out the perfect outfit with a magic bag and cane just a few months prior and I was more than excited to see her all dressed up. Gemma and Michael were going to be Belle and Prince Adam post beast phase. Gemma was already dressed up, her hair in perfect curls and resting on her shoulders. 

It took me a lot of convincing to do on my part - which consisted of begging and a stellar blowjob- to get Harry to agree to my idea. My favorite princess growing up had always been Ariel. There was something about her rebellious streak that always appealed to me. I told Harry that I wouldn’t be dressing up as mermaid Ariel, but land Ariel instead. It felt a little more practical and wearable for me to wear a dress instead of a tail. 

“Sweetheart,” Harry popped his head into the bathroom, his fingers pressed against the doorway as I adjusted my bow. “Are you ready?” 

“Just about.” I nodded. “Can you tell me if my hair is okay?” 

He moved into the bathroom, brushing his fingers under the dyed red locks that I had insisted on getting a week or two before Halloween. It was a temporary dye that would come out in a few washes, but the color was starting to grow on me. 

“It looks perfect.” He said softly, reaching up to tweak my bow. “This red is starting to grow on me.”

“Me too.” I glanced up at him through the mirror with a small smile. “Well, let me see your costume then.” 

I turned around, pressing my hands into the small sink behind me as I looked over Harry’s body. I had seen him in a white, flowing shirt like this plenty of times before, but I had never seen wearing the exact outfit that Eric wore in the cartoon. I tried to keep my red lipped smile at bay, but it was damn near impossible to do when he looked so perfect. 

“I love it so much.” I said softly. “You look handsome, darling.”

“Thank you.” He mumbled softly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck as blush tinted his cheeks. “But I pale in comparison to you, sweetheart. You look adorable.”

“Really?” I glanced down at my dress before looking back to Harry. “Do you think so?” 

“Better than the fucking cartoon.” He chuckled, reaching up to brush his finger over my cheek as he cupped my cheek. “I never wanted to fuck Ariel.”

“Harry!” I groaned, pushing his arm away as he giggled. “You ruined it.”

“I’ve done no such thing.” He teased, pulling me in by my hips. “I honestly think you look beautiful, my love. I don’t know anyone else that could pull this off better than you.”

“I think you can pull it off me later and then we can decide who does it better? I teased, lifting up on my toes to kiss his lips. “Let’s go, I can’t wait to win that contest.”

                                  *************************************

“I knew all of those years working at the shop weren’t for nothing.” Mary clapped her hands together, her eyes scanning the cake. “This is a work of art, love!”

“I can’t take all of the credit.” Harry wrapped his arm around me. “Had my princess to thank for most of it. She’s a wizard in the kitchen.”

“The two of you are quite the handsome pair.” Mary reached up to pinch Harry’s cheek and I laughed under my breath. “I’m glad you’ve found someone to deal with your terrible habits. Did he take a few bites out of your masterpiece while you were baking?” 

“He always does.” I chuckled, patting his tummy. “I always leave him bits behind so he can snack.”

“She treats me well.” Harry sighed playfully. “I wish you luck on the bake off, Mary.”

“You as well, darling.” 

As Mary walked away, someone filled her spot. 

“Harry!” Madeline smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling. “It’s so nice to have you back, babe.”

“Hello.” Harry gave her a tight smile, his arm pulling me closer to his side. “S’nice to see you again.”

“Is this your cake?” She looked down at our masterpiece and I tried to fight off my smile as Harry dug his fingers into my side instinctively. “It’s magnificent, babe!”

“It’s our cake, yes.” I cleared my throat as Madeline glared at me, a look of disgust washing over her face. “Nice to meet you, I’m Harry’s-”

“So, H,” She cut me off, looking back at my boyfriend. “Everyone is going for drinks in the pub after. I would love it if you could stop by.”

“Sorry, but I have plans.” Harry said. “My girl and I are going back to our home in London for a party with our friends.”

“Oh.” Madeline’s face fell. “You’re not staying in Holmes for a few more weeks?” 

“No.” He said. “We’ll be back at the end of November.”

“Interesting.” Madeline said. “Well, we’ll just have to catch up then.”

“We’ll see.” I said. “We’re quite busy.”

Madeline walked away, her jet black hair flipping over her shoulder. 

I looked up at Harry with a sympathetic smile. 

“You okay?” I asked, pressing my hand to his tummy. 

“I’m fine.” He grumbled. “I just wish people would stop treating you like a fucking doormat. I can’t stand when they talk down to you, as if you’re less than them. That girl hasn’t even left her fucking hometown and you’re a succesful-”

“Hey, look at me,” I moved in front of him, grabbing his face between my palms. “I want you to understand that I don’t give a flying fuck about Madeline or any other person that talks to me like that. They’re just jealous of what I have and what I’ve built, Harry. If I sat around worrying about them all day long I would always be a wreck and I refuse to give them the satisfaction.”

“But I love you.” He whispered. “I love you and I want to protect you, even if I know you don’t need me to.”

“I don’t need you to, you’re right.” I smiled. “But I want you to know that I already feel safe and supported around you. I don’t need a huge scene to feel protected.”

“I love you.” He lowered his head, pressing his lips to my own.

“And I love you,” I giggled. “My sweet prince.”

                                            ****************************

Somewhere in between watching Harry’s youngest cousin bobbing for apples and a quick make out session in the toilets, or cake was destroyed. It wasn’t hard to pin down the culprit after we saw Madeline smirking in the corner. She made sure that her eyes landed on mine exactly, smirking like the cat who ate the fucking canary. I glanced between Harry’s stony expression and the smashed cake that lay on the floor of the rec center, my chest burning with anger and frustration. Any other time, I would have ignored the feeling and powered through. 

But something in me had changed and I felt the need to protect Harry for once. 

He was so proud of our creation and Madeline destroyed in seconds out of spite. 

My prince was standing in a room full of family and friends with a quivering lip and watery eyes and I was beyond livid. I tried for a few moments to soothe the burning frustration in my chest, but I couldn’t do it. I knew the kind of girl Madeline was and I knew that she wouldn’t ever stop harassing Harry as long as she thought she had a chance with him. I needed to show her that she didn’t have a chance with him anymore.  It didn’t take me long to find myself in front of her with red cheeks and a heavy scowl on my lips. 

“I get that you’re still living in some high-school state of mind where you’re the ‘it girl’ and everyone else is just a pawn in the sick game you’re playing.” I started, sending Madeline into a state of shock, her eyes growing wide. “But this isn’t highschool and I’m not someone you can bully to get what you want. I’m a grown woman with a great career and a beautiful life. I don’t care if your feelings are hurt because you went on one date with my boyfriend in year seven.”

“I-” She stuttered out, but I interrupted her. 

“Grow the fuck up and move on with your life or you’ll find that one day, all of your friends and family are gone because you were too obsessed with someone who never wanted you back in the first place! I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but you need to lay off. I don’t care what you do or say to me, but you will not continue to hurt Harry’s feelings past today, is that understood?” 

She nodded meekly, her shoulders slumping slightly as I let out an angry huff. 

When I turned around, Harry was right there behind me. 

“That was a really shitty thing to do, Madeline.” He said softly. “I would appreciate it if you could leave us alone in the future, yeah?”

Harry and I left the rec center immediately after. 

The ride back to Anne’s house was so quiet that I could hear Harry’s harsh and uneven breathing from the passenger seat. I knew that he was beyond angry when we left the party, but it seemed to get worse with every passing second. It was so bad, in fact, that Harry hadn’t even put his hand on my thigh like he normally did when he was driving. I hated the absence of his hand, but my brain was too busy working around in circles trying to keep up with my current emotions. I gently rested my palm near my belly, worrying my bottom lip as I looked out of the car window. 

I was feeling so many things at once and eeing Harry so worked up had an effect on me that it shouldn’t have. I kept my thighs tightly pressed together as he accelerated down the winding road towards his Mum’s house. I could feel my walls growing slick as they fluttered, fueling that aching feeling in my belly that was spreading warmth across my body. I didn’t want to be turned on by his frustration and anger, but I couldn’t really help it. I watched him from the side of my eye, trying to soothe the feelings in my body and bring myself back down.

Unfortunately for me, it didn’t work. 

When Harry pulled into Anne’s driveway, he slammed the driver side door. 

I knew he wasn’t angry with me and I didn’t feel like I was in any sort of danger, but I still jumped a little. It should have scared me to see him do that, but if anything, it threw gas onto an already raging flame. I watched him strut around the front of the car in his costume, his lips pressed together and his jaw clenched. He was still a gentleman, holding the door open for me and offering a hand to help me out. I received a pert kiss to my temple as he slipped his fingers through mine, guiding me up the walkway to the front steps of the house. 

“Harry,” I said his name quietly as he shut the front door behind us. “Baby?”

“M’really not in the mood to talk about it.” He grumbled, brushing past me. “I’ll be in m’room.”

I let out a sigh, watching him retreat with a bruised ego and a soft pout. 

I kicked my brown flats off next to Harry’s vans before I walked up the steps towards the room we had been sharing for the last week. Inhaling deeply, I pressed the door open as he started to strip out of his costume. I shut it quietly behind me, leaning against the white wood as I watched him like a hawk waiting out its prey. 

“I told you I’m not in the mood to talk, love.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “Don’t want to say things I might regret.”

“I’m not in the mood to talk either.” I said softly, crossing my arms over my chest. “I am, however, in the mood to fuck.”

His head snapped around as he held his brown trousers in his pants, his eyes burning. 

“S’that what you’re up here for?” He asked, letting out a bitter laugh. “Want me to fuck you?” 

“You’re hot when you’re angry.” I shrugged, pushing off the door. “I’d like to put some of that aggression to good use.”

“M’not mad at you.” He said softly. “Mad at her.”

“Just...take it out on me.” I said. “I know you’re upset and I know that this will make you better, so fuck me like you hate me.”

“I won’t do that.” He swallowed around a lump in his throat. “But I will punish you for being an absolute brat in that kitchen earlier. I told you that you would get yours, didn’t I?”

“You did.” I tried to hide my smile when he tossed his pants to the side, his hardening cock on display. “No pants under those trousers? How naughty of you.”

“I want you on the bed.” He moved closer to me, brushing his thumb over my cheek. “Want you perched on the end with your ass in the air so that I can take you from behind.”

“Costume on or off?” I asked, raising a brow as Harry looked over my face. I shivered when he pulled a tendril of red hair from my shoulders, twirling it around his finger. 

“On.” 

With a shaky exhale, I nodded. 

Seconds later, I found myself stripping out of my panties and falling onto the bed with myy hands pressed into the center of the mattress and my feet dangling off the edge. I gripped onto the duvet we’d been curled under earlier that day, closing my eyes in anticipation. I waited for the sting of Harry’s palm against my flesh or the teasing tone of his voice. I waited and waited, but it never came. I heard him fiddling around behind me, shuffling through items and grumbling under his breath, but I didn’t feel his presence. I let out an impatient whine, biting my lower lip. 

“Didn’t say you could make noise, did I?” He said sternly. “Stay quiet for me, princess.”

I rolled my lips in, trying to keep in the whine that was creeping up my throat at bay. 

Seconds later, I felt the skirt of my dress being pushed over my ass. The hem rested on my lower back as the cool air of Harry’s bedroom washed over my skin. I heard him inhale sharply just seconds before I felt his thumb brushing over the lips of my cunt. I tried not to make any noise, taking a deep breath as he circled his thumb three times over my clit. 

Sweet relief only lasted a few moments before Harry’s thumb was gone from my clit. I gasped out when his hands started to knead at my ass, his thumbs spreading me apart.  

“You pissed me off earlier when you cracked that egg on my shirt.” He tutted. “If I remember specifically, princess, I told you no eggs.”

“M’sorry.” I whimpered when he dug his nails into the flesh. I knew he wouldn’t do anything to seriously hurt me, but I liked the sting. “M’sorry I didn’t listen.”

“You’re just being greedy.” He hummed out. “Gonna say whatever it takes to get my cock in you, huh? I’ve seen you do it before, my love.”

“Harry.” I whimpered his name as he pulled his right hand away. “Please.”

Seconds later, the crack of his palm against my ass had me letting out a small moan. 

I jolted forward on the bed ever so slightly, but Harry’s hand on my hip stopped me from falling.

“You were acting so bossy, too.” He sighed. “Putting on a show for Nick and the camera as if you’re the one who’s in charge here. We both know that isn’t true, don’t we? We both know that you like it when I take control, when I boss you around. Isn’t that right?” 

“It is.” I nodded before I tucked my head between my biceps, slightly arching my back “Fuck, I love it when you’re in control, H.”

“S’my job to take care of you.” His voice lost it’s edge, a softness to it. “Don’t need you to take care of me, princess. M’your prince charming, aren’t I? It’s my job to stand up for you and defend your honor.”

I lifted my head up, glancing over my shoulder with parted lips. 

The words died on my tongue when I felt Harry’s tip against my entrance, the rest of his cock following lead as he sunk into my warm walls. We both let out breathy moans of relief and the burning ache that had taken over my tummy earlier was now being soothed by. Harry’s hips settled against the flesh of my ass as his fingers flexed into my hips, holding me tight against him as I adjusted to his size. I closed my eyes when he finally pushed me off of his cock before pulling me back against him. I hated not being able to see his face, but this position felt so amazing that I couldn’t help but give into it. 

“Harry,” I gasped out as he repeated his previous move a few more times. “I need you to really give it to me.”

Another smack landed to my ass as Harry’s cock simultaneously brushed against that soft spot inside of me that only he could reach. I whimpered, biting my lower lip as he pushed my hips off of himself again, pulling me back a little harder as his hips moved forward to meet me. 

“S’not your turn to call the shots.” He gritted out, his fingers smoothing over my ass before it fell to my other hip. “If I wanna fuck you slow, I’ll fuck you slow.” 

He really made a point, pulling me off of his cock until the tip was barely nestled inside. 

He waited a few moments before he pulled me back onto him. 

“If I want to fuck you fast, I will.” He moved his own hips this time, delivering three fast and sharp thrusts into me. “If I want to pull your hair, I will.” 

I felt my mouth practically watering when he reached up, gathering the strands of my hair in one, large ponytail. I gasped when he pulled, guiding my head up and my body to a sitting position. I dropped my head back against his shoulder, my back pressed into his front from ass to shoulders. I turned my head ever so slightly as he grunted. 

“Do all princesses act like this?” He gritted out, guiding his hand to the front of my belly as he started to move his hips, thrusting into me just how I needed it. “Acting like brats until their prince comes along to teach them a lesson?” 

I slipped my hand over the palm that was pressed to my tummy, gripping his wrist to take some of the pressure off. I felt his palm ease up on the sensitive area as if he could tell exactly what I was trying to say. I was just a little nervous about things, especially since I hadn’t told him yet. 

 “I need to cum.” I cried out.

“No.” He flexed his hips, pushing deep inside of me as I tried to guide his hand to my clit. “I’m not done with you.”

“Harry-” 

“Shh, princess.” He pressed his lips to my neck. “I’m going to fucking wreck you.”

And he truly did. 

He alternated between fucking me on all fours and holding me up with his palm as he drove into me from behind. I didn’t get much clit stimulation until the end of our tryst, but it still felt phenomenal anyways. The feeling of Harry plunging in and out of me with such vigor was enough to get me close to the edge of my release. He went on with his pattern of alternating positions until I was begging him, tears in my eyes and desperation in my tone. 

“Please let me cum, H.” I cried out, turning my nose towards his jawline as he pushed his palm into my lower tummy. “Let me cum, let me cum.”

“Shh, princess.” He cooed softly, pulling out of me completely. “S’alright, I’m gonna let you cum.”

“No, no, no.” I whimpered when he pulled his body away from mine, his hands dropping from my hips. “Harry, what are you doing?” 

“I want you out of this fucking dress.” He growled out, his hands tugging at the zipper on the back until the fabric fell loosely around my shoulders. “Need to feel you.”

I nodded, helping him push it all off of me before I fell forward on the bed. 

Harry patted my thigh, guiding my hips until I was on my back with my heads propped up against the pillows. I gratefully accepted the bruising kiss he offered, his lips molding against mine as he guided his cock back into my aching walls. I let out a soft moan as he bottomed out, wrapping my legs around his hips as he slipped his hands under my body. 

“Love you.” He gasped out, flexing his hips in sloppy thrusts as he panted into my mouth. “I love you so much. I love that you stood up for me and I just...fuck, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I whined out, guiding a hand up to the back of his head until my fingers were tangled in damp locks. “Make me cum.” 

“M’close too.” He warned. “Together?” 

“Yeah.” 

I nodded before tucking my face into the crook of his shoulder, my lips pressing into the bare skin there as he tucked his hand between our bodies. I knew Harry’s body just as well as I knew my own at this point. I knew it well enough to know that four or five more thrusts would bring him to his release. I softly bit into his shoulder as he circled my clit, waiting for me to clench around him as a signal that I was ready. It didn’t take long, his fingers slipping against the bundle of nerves fast enough that I was clenching around him in less than a few minutes. 

“I’m gonna move.” He whispered. “You ready?” 

“Please,” I mewled out, kissing over his shoulder as he started to thrust his hips. “Just like that, Harry.” 

“I love you.” His breath tickled the baby hairs along my temple as he delivered a few sharp thrusts. “Love you so fucking much.” 

When our highs hit, his body stilled against mine. 

I let out a high pitched whine, trying my best not to bite down on his shoulder too hard. I felt him cum, his cock twitching before he let go of his release. His hips flexed into mine a few more times, a primal movement that ensured every drop of his cum was pushed as far in as it could go, before he fell lax against my body. I let out a soft chuckle, gently scratching at his scalp as we both tried to catch our breath. His lips pressed gently over my forehead and down the bridge of my nose until they met mine in a soft and sweet kiss. 

“Thank you for sticking up for me.” He whispered. “Thanks for sticking up for us.”

“She would have never stopped hounding you.” I whispered. “She needed to be confronted in front of other people to realize exactly how horrible she’s been.”

“I was really upset about our cake.” He pressed one elbow into the mattress, brushing his fingers through the strands of hair around my face. “We worked so hard on it and she just...destroyed it. I felt like that was a big milestone for us, creating something together.”

“I know.” I gave him a sympathetic smile as his thumb caressed the skin of my cheek. “What if I told you that we’ve created something so much better than a cake together?”

“What could be better than that cake?” He asked, his brows pulling together. I watched his eyes dart around, the gears turning in his brain. “I don’t know, love. What have we done?” 

I smiled, rolling my lips in as my eyes started to tear up. 

“Are you sure you can’t think of anything better than cake?” I asked, my voice a little hoarse from a combination of moaning and the emotion creeping up in my throat. “Like, baby, you can’t imagine anything better than-”

“You never call me baby.” He searched my face, his expression changing emotion every few seconds. “Are you saying-”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I think that’s a little better than a cake, right?” 

“Holy fuck.” He let out a breathless chuckle. “Yeah, it’s much better than a bloody cake.”

He pressed a series of playful kisses over my face, both of dissolving into a fit of giggles.

In that moment, I knew that this would always be the one thing no one could ever ruin for us. 

[indianamoonshine]

two to tango | javier x reader

*please note that i have no idea who created this gif. please let me know who did so i can give them credit.

summary: you’re pregnant and javier is the father. unfortunately, the two of you also haven’t spoken to one another in over a month. he’s starting to notice how easily startled you’ve become and how pissed you’ve been getting around the office. maybe it’s time to finally tell him.

contains: pregnancy. fluff. mentions of open relationships and an age-gap. (reader is well over eighteen.) your relationship is a bit wack but the two of you mean well.

author’s note: i’m barely getting by in quarantine, so here’s a really crappy one-shot. my first javier fic!

you felt him watching you.

the way you stumbled more frequently but was more apt to catch yourself less you actually did. the way your hands shook as you wrote down information called in through a hiss of static and how the noise pissed you off more than usual. it was the way you made sure not to walk too close to his desk, how your hands passed him folders marked with “confidential” as though he were infected with something.

javier was fuckin’ clueless though.

how he didn’t see earlier was beyond you. it’d been a month and a half since the last time you’d slept together. it’d been a month since the argument between the two of you ended things abruptly. javier and his informants and you and your jealously.

not to say you were wrong to be jealous. because you weren’t. you weren’t wrong to be angry when javier had to bail on you to collect some intel by whatever means necessary. and, granted, you had given him permission to do whatever it was to take out that escobar fuck. but certainly he had to have seen through that “cool girl” demeanor.

maybe it was because you were younger than him. javier didn’t play games - it wasn’t his niche. and usually it wasn’t yours; that is, of course, until the game reared its ugly face. you called him out on his bullshit only to cast the line; to get a rise out of him just to see how much he really cared. and when he didn’t take the bait (or didn’t understand what the fuck you were trying to get at) you grew restless at his lack of passion. this is the game that fucks up many relationships and it certainly fucked up yours.

but not until javier fucked you. a lot. every night really because the two of you lived down the hall from one another. then when your jealously and his nonchalance finally came to a head, the game stood on its platform and bit into its shiny gold medal. one comment led to another and soon enough you found yourself slamming the door in his face, unable to breath, and giving him the cold shoulder for thirty whole days.

but that thirty whole days was up a week ago.

it’s almost quitting time. well, for you anyway. you had a set schedule. you didn’t go out on the field or get your fingers dirty like steve or javier did. no. you sat in a square protected by bulletproof glass, phone to your chin, and breaking pencils by the dozens while you doodled mindlessly. the clock on the far wall ticks lazily, your kneecaps bobbing anxiously with the beat. you want so desperately to go home, to get out of this sauna of an embassy and drink...shit. well, to drink water, you suppose.

you let out a slight groan.

there’s a knock on your cubicle which rattles the glass a little. it’s always startled you, but considering the circumstances the sound the glass makes is enough to make you jump in your seat just slightly.

you place a hand on your chest, eyes tearing away from the clock, and find javier with his hands on his hips. he watches you with frown on his face, though the mustache hides most of it.

ah, fuck. it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. you were supposed to approach him. he wasn’t supposed to feel obligated to ask why you were more fidgety or anxious than usual; why you were now staring him down with a grimace on your face, eyes dropped with fatigue, and heart skipping a little.

well, shit. maybe javier peña was more observant of your behavior than you thought.

he says your name softly and raps his finger on the window again so you’d open it. you find yourself doing just that but not without sighing in defeat. the whiff of his cologne immediately intrudes your space, making your head dizzy with...all sorts of feelings, really. javier didn’t wear that much cologne. must be another lovely effect of pregnancy, you suppose.

he leans forward to say, “we need to talk.”

he’s being tactical - clever - in the way he speaks in such a hushed tone, eyes scanning the room to watch people leave their desks. it’s five now. lights are being flickered off, goodbyes being said. javier raises a hand at a few cadets who wish him a good night.

and then finally the room is empty. steve’s not even here - he’s on the field today - boots on the ground and whatnot. but javier was here.

and he was staring right at you.

his voice rumbles loudly from his mouth. “what’s going on with you?”

god dammit. you clench around nothing, palms sweating, and wishing he’d just fucking leave. especially with the way he smells. especially with the way his voice is heady with testosterone and authority.

“nothing,” you lie. it’s a bad show of dishonesty. you’ve never been that great at fibbing anyway, but this has to be one of the least convincing displays you’ve ever attempted.

javier isn’t persuaded by the way you choke on your own words. and with all the sweat gathering against your chest, who would be?

“i’m worried about you,” he murmurs. “you’ve been acting...strange.”

he seems genuinely concerned which both pisses you off and excites you at the same time. on one hand, he’d been watching you. making sure you were okay. healthy. safe. on the other hand, he had the audacity to fret himself over your demeanor when he’d been ignoring you.

in his defense, you’d been the one to kick him out.

you swallow a lump in your throat. acid, mostly, and then pride. “okay,” you finally squeak. “let’s talk.”

javier watches you cautiously, taking stock of your color and expressive eyes which probably looked a bit dilated at the moment. finally he says, “fine. over drinks?”

drinks. shit.

--

“your place or mine?” he’d asked after.

you told him ‘mine’ in a pathetic manner as he drove you. this area of medellín didn’t have a lot to offer as far as views go, but there was enough to keep your mind occupied as you passed. food carts that wafted delicious smells. children playing games. lovers quarreling. and then finally you arrive at the apartment complex where everything felt a little more beige and lonely - where culture was almost sucked from the grasp of the american embassy.

but javier was here now, and as much as you wanted to hit yourself for thinking so, the night felt a bit brighter when he opened the door for you. you thank him as the two of you enter the building and then wait in silence as you fumble with your keys.

javier takes a deep breath and makes himself at home. he’s been here hundreds of times. he even has his own sock drawer; one you hadn’t cleaned out yet (you told yourself you were too busy but you know...). he shucks off his boots and places them in the corner because he knows that’s where you like them, and when he sheds his jacket he lays it on the back of the couch just like you do.

you beeline for the fridge, desperate to busy your hands. there’s not much in here drink-wise save for some water bottles and some of his leftover beer. there is a bottle of red wine, chilled and tempting, but you ignore it with a frown and fetch javier’s choice of poison.

he sits on the couch, elbows at his knees, and staring blankly at the floor beneath him. when you enter the room he blinks up at you and accepts your offering with a small “thank you”.

“water, huh?” he notices as you uncap the bottle, brow furrowing a little. he knew how much you loved wine after a long day, and he definitely knew there was some in that fridge.

you nod a little too quickly for your liking. “yeah,” you say, taking a swig. “is that alright with you?”

javier grins at your snark. maybe it was bubbling up old feelings in him. you try to pretend like that doesn’t make you...well, feel something other than frustration. you wanted to be mad at him. you did.

there’s a silence between the two of you. it’s heavy. stifling. not awkward, but tense. tense enough that javier starts first with a great sigh.

“i miss you,” he says abruptly. he’s fingering with the lip of his bottle - can barely look you in the eyes when he says it...as though he’s ashamed of it or something.

“i know i shouldn’t because...” he sets the beer on your coffee table and folds his hands together. “because i was the one that fucked it up.”

you want to correct him but he’s not entirely wrong. while you played a hand in this as well, it takes two to tango and it certainly did take two to tango in this situation.

“i...” you start, but fall short. you weren’t keen on admitting you were wrong. you hated admitting you were wrong. always have. “i’m to blame too. i lied to you.”

javier perks a brow, lips pursing for a moment before asking, “lied?”

you shrug and nod at once, a little skeptical of your show of honesty. you hope it didn’t look too forced or shallow. pathetic. typical of you to overthink things...to make it about you.

“i wasn’t okay with you sleeping with other women,” you admit. and it feels so fucking good to say it aloud to the one person who matters.

javier sets his jaw and nods at his feet. “i shouldn’t have done it.”

that part was true.

“still, i should’ve told you straight out. i just felt like you didn’t...” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose, a wave of nausea washing over you rather suddenly. “i just felt like you didn’t care enough about me to stop. and i was being a child for pushing you to admit it. or trying to push you to admit it. i don’t know...”

you shake your head, stunned by your own stupidity. when saying it out loud to an actual person and not your shampoo bottles it doesn’t make any sense. how manipulative can someone be?

“i should’ve just been honest with you and i’m sorry i wasn’t...” is all you can say. that was the simplicity of it.

javier shifts beside you on the couch. you don’t look up at him - you’re way too ashamed. he sets a hand on your thigh and you can’t help but shudder vibrantly at his touch.

“i knew you weren’t okay with the...” he considers his next words carefully. “informants. and, to be honest, i wanted you to break first.”

you glance up at him through your lashes. “why?”

he chuckles softly all of a sudden. “you know i’m not an open book. but you...” he pauses and takes your hand that’s limp in your lap. “you’re more stubborn than i am.”

he presses a delicate kiss to it, mustache tickling the tender flesh. “please come back to me.”

he...wants you back.

tears swell in your eyes before you can even acknowledge their existence. they’d come on so suddenly - without warning.

damn these hormones.

you use your free hand to wipe a lone tear away, noting how a wrinkle of concern puckers his brow when you do.

“i have to tell you something first.”

he scoots closer, eyes narrowed, but mouth soft in dismay. he massages the space between your forefinger and thumb which, strangely enough, alleviates some of the leftover nausea in your gut.

might as well spit it out.

“i’m pregnant, javi.”

you’ve imagined this scenario hundreds - and i mean hundreds- of times since seeing those pink lines on that piece of plastic. you imagine he’d shut down, sort of like a fax machine when it overheats, and walk out the door. maybe he’d throw his hands above his head, pace around the room, and spout off ways of how it couldn’t be possible despite the fact that you rarely used protection.

how it happened, you couldn’t be sure. the technicalities of it, at least. you’d been on birth control but maybe you’d missed a dose. maybe you were just really fuckin’ fertile and javier was really fuckin’ fecund. but either way it happened and there was nothing to do but say it did - indeed - happen.

and just as you think he’s had a stroke...that you should either call for an ambulance or at the very least steve, javier cracks...a grin.

not a joke. he doesn’t crack a joke. he cracks a smile. it starts off subtle until it doesn’t; until his teeth and all are showing. he laughs, but in good humor too. not snickering - but laughing.

you can’t help but jolt back from his touch with dubious reserve. “are you...laughing?”

javier’s smile falls into a pleasant smirk and then he’s holding your face between two calloused palms. palms that are familiar and warm, that have touched every inch and frailty of your body. the ones that helped make life within you.

and before he even says it, you know it’s okay. that it’s all gonna be okay.

“is that why you’ve been so goddamned jumpy lately?” he beams, thumb rubbing a small and gentle circle against your cheek.

you stare at him incredulously before you begin to giggle well. it was only a matter of time, especially by the look of sheer delight in his eyes. you were stunned by his bliss of it all.

you nod in his embrace. “yeah,” you admit meekly. but you’re smiling now too.

javier presses his forehead against yours, breathing in your scent with a great inhale. “i knew there was something going on.” he brings his nose to the crook of your neck and takes in another deep breath. “you smell different.”

you roll your eyes in jest. “bullshit.”

“i’m serious,” he says, perfect nose gliding along your skin. “i’m positive that’s a thing.”

your hands grip his cheeks, stubble itching your skin when you do. he looks luminous- maybe even more than you.

“so...” you caress the top of his eyebrow, thumb brushing over it ever so slightly. he always loved it when you did that. “are we okay with this?”

javier leans into you, eyes trained on your lips. “of course we’re okay with it,” he confirms softly. “we’re more than okay with it.”

[olderthannetfic]

It's really surprising that you're so well versed in older fandoms and yet participate in new popular ones (that cdrama, kpop) is this by design? Im in my twenties and my interest turnover is already way slower than it used to be

You know, that’s a really interesting question. I wouldn’t say it’s by design exactly in that I do tend to just follow what strikes my fancy, and I can’t force myself to want to write fic for just anything. (I find it easier to like reading fic without serious involuntary emotional investment, but writing takes more. Vidding I can do on command most of the time, but I don’t usually bother unless I have a lot of feels or I’m fulfilling someone’s prompt.)

However, me getting into BTS was 100% due to me wanting to understand BTS enough to explain to people who weren’t very interested but wanted to know what was going on in fandom lately. Under normal circumstances, I run the dance party at Escapade, the oldest extant slash con. We borrowed vividcon’s thing of playing fanvids on the wall--all of them set to dance music--as the soundtrack for the dance party. This means I’m creating a 3-hour mixtape of fannishness, which has amazing potential to make people feel in the know about Fandom Today... and equal potential to make them feel alienated if nothing they care about shows up. Only about 100-150 people attend the con, so it really is possible to make a playlist that feels inclusive yet informative--it just takes a huge amount of work.

Every year, I do a lot of research on which fandoms are getting big and look for vids from vidders people won’t have heard of, so there is an element of consciously trying to keep up with things. Generally, I only get into these fandoms myself if I had no idea what they were and then suddenly, oops, they’re my kryptonite, like the buddy cop android plot in Detroit: Become Human, which sucked me in hard for like 6 months on the basis of a vid.

(So if you’re into cross-fandom meta and associated stuff as one of your fannish interests, you tend to have broader knowledge of different fandoms, old and new, than if you’re just looking for the next place you’ll read fic. It’s also easier to love vids for unfamiliar things than fic.)

But though I was only looking for a basic primer on BTS, BTS has 7 members with multiple names and no clear juggernaut pairing, not to mention that AU that runs through the music videos and lots of other context to explain. The barrier to understanding WTF was going on at all was high enough that to know enough to explain, I had to be thoroughly exposed... And once I was over that hurdle, oops, I had a fandom.

--

In terms of old vs. new, here’s the thing: kpop fandoms in English and c-drama fandoms in English right now feel a lot like anime fandom in English did in the early 00s. I had a Buddy Cops of the 70s phase in the middle, but my current fannishness is actually a return to my older fannishness in many ways.

What do I mean about them being similar?

Yes, I know some wanker will show up to say I think China, Korea, and Japan are indistinguishable, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the way that I used to routinely meet Italian and French and German fans, Argentinian and Mexican, Malaysian and Indonesian and Filipino too. English-language fandom of SPN or MCU may have all those fans from all those countries, but it feels very American most of the time. English-language fandom of a non-English-language canon is more overtly about using English as a lingua franca.

It also tends to attract people who as a sideline to their fannishness are getting into language learning and translation, which are my other passion in life after fanworks fandom. (I speak only English and Spanish and a bit of Japanese, but I’ve studied German, French, Russian, Mandarin, Old English, and now Korean.)

Nerds arguing about methods of language learning and which textbooks are good and why is my jam. This is all over the place in English-language fandoms of Chinese, Japanese, and Korean media. Those fandoms also tend to be full of speakers coming from a Germanic or Romance languages background who face similar hurdles in learning these languages. (In other words, if you’re a native Japanese speaker trying to learn Korean, the parts that will be hard for you are different than if you’re an English speaker, but you’re also usually not doing fandom in English.)

There’s also an element of scarcity and difficulty of access and a communal attempt to construct a canon (in the other sense) of stuff from that country that pertains to one’s fannishness. So, for example, a primer explaining the genre of xianxia is highly relevant to being a n00b Untamed fan, but just any old thing about China is not. A c-drama adapted from a danmei webnovel is perhaps part of the new pantheon of Chinese shit we’re all getting into, but just any old drama from decades ago is probably not... unless it’s a genre precursor to something else we care about. Another aspect here is that while Stuff I Can Access As A N00b Who Doesn’t Speak The Language may be relatively scarce, there’s a vast, vast wealth of stuff that exists.

This is what it felt like to be an anime fan in the US in 2000. As translation got more commercial and more crappy series were licensed and dumped onto an already glutted market, the vibe changed. No longer were fans desperately trying to learn enough of the language to translate or spending their time cataloguing what existed or making fanworks about a show they stuck with for a bit: the overall community focus turned to an endless race of consumption to keep up with all of the latest releases. That’s a perfectly valid way of being fannish, but if I wanted that, I’d binge US television 24/7.

Anime fandom got bigger, but what I liked about anime fandom in English died, and I moved on. (Okay, I first moved on to Onmyouji, which is a live action Japanese thing, but still.)

Hardcore weeaboos and now fans of Chinese and Korean stuff don’t stop at language: people get excited about cooking, my other other great passion. Times a thousand if the canon is something like The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty, which is full of loving shots of food preparation. People get excited about history! Mandarin and Japanese may share almost nothing in terms of grammar or phonology, but all of East Asia has influence from specific Chinese power centers historically, and there are commonalities to historical architecture and clothing that I love.

I fell out of love with the popular anime art styles as they changed, and I’m not that into animation in general these days. (I still own a shitton of manga in art styles I like, like Okano Reiko’s Onmyouji series.) I’ve become a filmmaker over the last decade, and I’m very excited about beautiful cinematography and editing. With one thing and another, I’m probably not going to get back into anime fandom, but it’s lovely to revisit the cultural aspects I enjoyed about it via live-action media.

BTS surprised me too, to be honest. I really dislike that early 90s R&B ballad style that infests idol music (not just Korean--believe me, I resisted many rounds of “But Johnny’s Entertainment though!” back in the day). While I like some of the dance pop, I just don’t care. But OH NO, BTS turn out to be massive conscious hip hop fanboys, and their music sounds different. I have some tl;dr about my reactions in the meta I wrote about one of my fanvids, which you can find on Dreamwidth here.

--

But back to your comment about turnover: I know fans from the 70s who’ve had one great fannish love and that’s it and more who were like that but eventually moved on to a second or third. They’re... really fannishly monogamous in a way I find hard to comprehend. It was the norm long ago, but even by the 90s when far more people were getting into fandom, it was seen as a little weird. By now, with exponentially more people in fandom, it’s almost unheard of. I think those fans still exist, even as new people joining, but we don’t notice them. They were always rare, but in the past, only people like that had the stamina to get over the barriers to entry and actually become the people who made zines or were willing to be visibly into fanfic in eras when that was seen as really weird. On top of that, there’s an element of me, us, judging the past by what’s left: only people with an intense and often single passion are visible because other people either drifted away or have seamlessly disappeared into some modern fandom. They don’t say they’re 80 or 60 or 40 instead of 20, so nobody knows.

In general, I’m a small fandoms and rare ships person. My brain will do its best to thwart me by liking whatever has no fic even in a big fic fandom... (Except BTS because there is literally fic for any combination of them, like even more than for the likes of MCU. Wow. Best fandom evar!) So I have an incentive to not get complacent and just stick with one fandom because I would very soon have no ability to be in fandom at all.

My appetite for Consuming All The Things has slowed way down, but it also goes in waves, and a lot of what I’m consuming is what I did back in 2000: journal articles and the limited range of English-language books on the history of m/m sex and romance in East Asia. It’s not so much that I have a million fandoms as that I’m watching a few shows as an expression of my interest in East Asian costume dramas and East Asian history generally.

I do like to sit with one thing and experience it deeply rather than moving on quickly, but the surface expression of this has changed depending on whether I’m more into writing fic or more into doing research or something else.

But yes, I do do a certain amount of trying to stay current, often as a part of research for fandom meta or to help other people know what’s going on. Having a sense of what’s big doesn’t automatically mean getting into all those things, but I think some fans who are older-in-fandom and/or older-in-years stop being open to even hearing what’s new. And if you’ve never heard of it, you’ll never know if you might have liked it.

[violetnotez]

hello!! how are u today? i hope youre well💖 may i request a baku crushing on a girl who is native eng speaker, but has never heard her speak. however one day the whole class is watching some eng movie n y/n starts dissing the movie in eng bc its so bad n the whole class is sHOCKED BC HER VOICE IS SO FLUENT N SM DEEPER IN ENG. bakubabe is just there like damn thats hot.

Hey babes! I’m doing well thank you, just doing some stuffs for my art blog! I hope youre doing well 💕💕also thank you to @gallickingun for the mangacap, it saved me so much time and I was actually able to color it! 😍

Also: IM ALIVE!!!! I LITERALLY WROTE THIS TODAY AND OMG I MISS WIRITNG! I’ll start on that Dabi x reader fic I mentioned in a little bit, just wanted to post this! Hopefully it’s good lmao

⤷ Genre: Fluff

⤷ Word Count: 2020

⤷ Warnings: cursing its bakubabe

⤷ Synopsis: Bakugo won’t admit it to himself, but he’s conflicted: he knows he has a crush on you, but his dumbass won’t admit it-well, until he hears your sexy American voice.

Song Recs: ⤷If I Cant Have You-Shawn Mendes⤷Thinking About You-Calvin Harris ⤷Rather Be-Clean Bandit

This was so stupid. Completely dumb and a waste of his time.

Bakugo slumped in his seat a little more, a grumble escaping his lips as he tried to focus on the screen in front of him, his broad shoulders crossed in front of him.

He should be sleeping right now, not sitting and watching this dumbass romantic American movie, especially when you were by his side.

There was no reason why his cheeks should feel hotter when you laughed at the movie, or his hands feel clammy with his sweat everytime you shifted your body closer to him.

It was pissing him off, because no matter how much he tried to ignore the pent up emotions in his chest, he had to admit it to himself-he had a goddamn crush.

On you, the goddamn exchange student.

Fucking great.

His lips pouted as he sulked in his seat on the couch, trying his best to glue his eyes to the screen instead of sneaking a glance at your profile.

The TV showed one of the most sickly sweet and horrific scenes he had ever witnessed: the main couple on screen were finally declaring their love to each other, their voices getting louder and more desperate as they tried to one up each other, almost as if battling to see who could last the longest.

“I love you to the moon!”

“I love you to the moon and back!”

“I love you to the moon and all the stars in the sky!”

“And I love you to-“

A laugh erupted next to him, Bakugo swiveling his head over to see you giggling in your seat, your pretty lips parted as those sweet sounds came from your mouth.

“God, this is terrible!” You chuckled, shaking your head as you said it.

Bakugo’s face reddened, his eyes widening from the sounds coming from your mouth.

Your sentence wasn’t in Japanese: it was foreign and new, American sounding.

Bakugo was used to your voice sounding light and airy when you talked in Japanese, like a leaf on a autumn breeze as it floated into his ears and danced in his mind whenever you spoke his native language. Sometimes you would fumble over the words, trying to piece the meanings together as a blush formed on your cheeks and your eyes turned up from embarrassment. He always made fun of you from it, usually telling you to “Spit it out Baka, I don’t got all day”, but really-he absolutely loved it. You sounded so sweet, so innocent and endearing: he just wanted to wrap you in a hug and envelope himself in your sugar sweet voice.

But right now, your voice was somehow the opposite-it was deeper and richer, like warm,auburn honey on a summer evening. It coated his mind in its thick numbness, the only thing he could think of was how deep and sultry, and well, sexy, it sounded coming from your lips.

He squirmed in his seat, hating how much that little change in your tone affected him so much as you continued to giggle at the wreck of a movie in front of you.

Your class turned to look at you, their faces clearly as shocked as Bakugo’s-they had never actually heard your voice when you spoke English, and they weren’t quite used to it.

You looked at your classmates, your face twisted in innocent confusion.

“What? What did I say?” You asked again in that sultry American voice, making Bakugo shift in his seat, his face looking away from you as he covered his mouth with his hand.

Damn you needed to get that voice under control-he felt like you were controlling his emotions when you spoke like that.

“Whoa y/n you know English!” Kamianri propped himself up, his face clearly in awe as he yelled it out the words.

Sero, who was sitting beside him, chuckled at his air headed friend, giving him a judging look.

“Uh, you do realize she’s from America, right?” Sero snickered, Kamianri looking sheepish as he realized his forgetfulness.

“Oops, Sorry!” He yelled out again, earning a laugh from you and the rest of your classmates.

Jealousy bubbled inside Bakugo like a volcanic eruption, the dangerous emotion barely being contained inside him as his fists clenched.

He hated when others made you laugh, especially his freinds, who unfortunately figured out the crush he had on you a few weeks back. Hearing you giggle at his idiot friends made him want to yell out in possession, declaring that they should know that you were his-well would be his- and they should lay off. But you didn’t suspect a thing about his feelings, and he really didn’t feel like looking like a possessive freak in front of you.

He felt your body shift next to his, his heart beating faster as your finger tapped his shoulder.

“Hey, Uh, Bakugo?” You whispered, the sweet tone of your Japanese voice making him shudder pleasantly, as well as long for your deeper American voice.

He grunted in response, his arms still slung across his broad chest.

“Did I talk in my American voice?”

He scoffed, his eyes rolling in his sockets at how adorably oblivious you could be sometimes. He sent you a shit eating smirk, his vermillion eyes dark like wine.

“What do you think?” He stated, but he didn’t say it in his language, no-he said it English.

He watched your face instantly light up, your eyes bright with excitement and awe as you gasped.

“Wait-you know English?!” You yelled out in awe, a smile erupting on your face. That smile seemed to shake his world, his mind eternally thanking that the room was so dark as his cheeks flushed.

“Of course I know English,” he scoffed, “what idiot doesnt.”

You giggled at his comment, your body shifting closer to his.

Damn it, his cheeks were getting hotter-he could feel your shoulder a mere centimeters away from his, your skin radiating a coolness that felt so soothing being near his permanently hot flesh.

You leaned in closer, your eyes watching his face with sweetness. “How long have you been speaking it?” you asked, but in that hot ass American voice-he was about to combust right then and there.

Shit-he would never admit it, but he hadn’t been exactly practicing his second language. He had learned it back in middle school, when it was a required class, and he had passed it with flying colors of course. Over the years though, he began to forget it, and he was pretty rusty now, now only remembering a few phrases (‘What do you think?’ being one of them)

“Ahh-“ he grumbled out, feeling stupid for not even understanding what you had said. He felt those pretty eyes of yours continue to stare at him, making him feel almost guilty for leading you on as you face fell slightly.

“You didn’t understand what I said, did you?” You asked sadly, back to using your airy Japanese voice. He hated seeing you look so disappointed, as if he let you down in some way.

“Of course I do, dumbass, I just-“

“It’s been awhile since you spoken it?”

He grunted in reply, your mind already translating that to a “Yes.”

Your face somehow light up again, your body even closer to his as you shimmied yourself near him.

“Then I’ll reteach you it!”

“Huh?” He looked at you, his eyes slanted as you peered at you with an almost judging look. What the hell were you playing at?

You nodded again, your lips letting out a slight hum.

“Yeah, I’ll teach you a phrase in English! To be honest, I miss having someone to talk to in my language…” you chuckled at your revelation, your eyes coated in embarrassment.

Well shit-if you needed someone to talk to in English, he was going to be the one to do it. With his damn luck Icy Hot and damn Deku would jump in and be your little English buddy. His skin crawled at the idea of you getting all cozy with one of those two bastards, his insides light up like a fire.

“Fine,” he huffed out, pretending like he was giving in, “but I’m not sitting through a whole damn lesson.”

You chuckled slightly, brushing a piece of hair behind your ears.

“Don’t worry, I’ll start off easy,” you smiled up at him, looking up slightly as if in thought.

“We’ll start with a something easy,” you instructed.

“I’ll teach you-“your sweet Japanese voice suddenly turned rich like syrup as it switched to American. ‘Hi my name is Bakugo”,

“Easy enough?” You asked, switching back to Japanese.

“Fucking elementary,” he scoffed, “yeah I can do it.”

“Cool!” You exclaimed quietly, still mindful of your classmates watching the crappy movie. You shimmied again, your face squarely staring at his as you waited for him to start speaking, your eyes expecting and wide with anticipation.

Shit he was supposed to be paying attention?

Bakugo cursed himself in his mind, as he was too preoccupied listening to your hot as hell American accent.

Damn, he was going to have a hard time talking to you in English, especially if you said his name like that. He hadn't realized how mezmorized he was by the way you spoke his name, your voice low and sultry as if you were telling him a secret, something he was only able to hear. His spine tingled and his hands clammed up again, making his mouth feel dry.

Shit, you’d be the end of him.

He opened his mouth, feeling uncharacteristically nervous as he tried to speak the words you had spoken. He could barely remember how you had said them though, the syllables coming out his mouth feeling cracked and awkward.

“H-hi my n-ame is...shit!” He cursed at himself, hating the way the words felt in his mouth. He couldn't say them right, knowing full well he looked like an idiot as his cheeks began to redden.

He heard you giggle next to him, the voice sounding sweet and kind against his ear.

“It okay,” you reassured him, “your just opening your mouth a little too wide...here-“

Before he could register what was even going on, your hand had wrapped delicately around his jaw, the floral scent of your perfume swarming his mind and making him unable to think straight. Your digits were pressing against his hot cheeks, forcing his lips to pout out slightly.

Damn, if he thought he was blushing, it was nothing compared to this-it felt like his cheeks were on fire.

You laughed at his clearly shocked face, his vermillion eyes wide and filled with confusion.

“Don’t worry, Bakugo, I’m just helping you,” you reassured him, your voice feathery as you whispered close to his ear.

Why the hell did that sound so hot?

You sent him another smile, speaking again in Japanese and then back to English, “Just say- ‘Hi my name is Bakugo’,”

he continued to star at you, actually beginning to like the feel your digits pressed against his mouth.

He swallowed, trying to coat his dry mouth with saliva.

“Hi-my name-is-Bakugo,” he stuttered out.

He wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but he had to admit it-his English voice did sound much better with your fingers pressed against his cheeks like that.

You clearly noticed it as well, your face triumphant and proud. “There ya go, that sounded so much better!” You congratulated him, your fingers retracting from his skin.

He already missed the feeling of your cold skin against his hot flesh, his cheeks feeling empty without your digits pressing against them.

He sucked the flesh of his cheeks into his mouth, moving his jaw.

“Shitty woman-need to give me a warning-“ he scolded you, his hands feeling clammy with the sudden change in events.

You rolled your eyes, lying yourself against the couch cushions and returning your gaze to the TV.

“Well, your going to have to get used to it if I’m going to teach you more-“

“Teach me more?!?” He practically yelled out, gaining a few confusing looks from his classmates.

“Of course!” you smiled as if it was obvious, “need to make sure your fluent enough for a conversation dumbie!”

“It’s also fun seeing you blush like that Bakugo,” you playfully nudged his ribcage, sending him a wink as you turned your gaze to the movie, unaware of how flustered you just made him.

Well shit-he thought numbly, a small grin playing against his mouth-you were something else.

Taggings:

@weebartistinc​ @orokayagi​ @leeeah-loooser​ @bakarinnie​

[deerixiie]

APPRECIATION POST!!

june 29th, or a little more that 6 months ago i posted my first fic. that was honestly the best decision of my life because tho tumblr is a hellsite it’s a hellsite that got me through a hellish year. i just want to come out and express my extreme gratitude for all of the people who have gotten me through 2020.

my followers. i remember when i first hit 100 and i was so excited bc 100 ppl in the world actually appreciated my writing enough to follow me...and then more of you guys started coming and sent sweet asks and suddenly i felt so loved 🥺 i didn’t expect to gain the following i did on this hellsite but i did and i love you guys so much :( thank u so much for being here through it all and making this year so much better!!

character anons/other anons; i know i don’t have much and not all of u are active but you!!! you guys are the bestest people on earth!!! shoyo, haji, yams, and all my noya anons,,, i love u guys sm. seeing you in my inbox made me so happy and i loved interacting w you 🥺💗 i hope you guys have an amazing new year and i hope you can talk more soon!! same goes for my other anons, 💜, 🍁, iara, and all the other anons that have send me asks, i love you guys so much!! getting anons and asks was something that made me feel so appreciated and important and seeing your asks always made my day!! ily guys <3

@sa-suga, @neonghxst, @sanso, @starrysamu, @stelleum, @myelocin, and a whole bunch of others writers; you are the most amazing people on the planet. writing on a site like this that gives little to no appreciation is so amazing of you :( your fics have made me smile, laugh, cry, and even grow as a person and i’m so grateful for that! bc of u i was able to distract myself from all the crappy things that happened this year. ily guys so much!

and now, my mutuals!!

@hajiimes; cola i will always always start with you. my closest friend, writing genius, someone i can bounce ideas off of, ask for help, watch movies with, voice call for hours with, and simp over characters with. getting close with you was one of the best things of this year and i really appreciate you for it. its really refreshing to have such a close friend i can really turn to and talk to about stuff that’s bothering me and i know i do it a lot and i’m a terrible friend sometimes but you’re always there for me :( and yeah we tease each other a lot and you’re honestly so annoying sometimes but yeah it’s fun and i love you so <3 STOP MAKING BREAKUP PLAYLISTS OKAY IM SORRY

@sugakuns + @suikazura + @kageyuji + @miyasangel + @giorvanna + @sophiawithstars + @hajiimes; i literally could not have gotten through 2020 without dinonet. it’s the first discord server and probably only discord server that i’ve really felt at home in because you all are so accepting and sweet. your support and love and kindness have gotten me past this year. i’ve been able to laugh and scream and vent and word vomit and be myself because of you all and i’m so appreciative of that. i cant wait for an entire new year with you all, ilysm!

@mehreya; you changed your url and i freaked tf out but ANYWAYS HEYYY~ rae i literally. i literally love you so much like. where would i be without you? you’re so welcoming and comforting and i love you so much :( if there’s anyone i’d share a deformed braincell with, it’s with you!! i feel like i can relate to you?? so much?? i literally keysmash in your inbox sending like 12 messages and i don’t have to worry about you getting upset because you do the same thing right back. we share really similar interests and you’re so compassionate and sweet and ugh i’m gna cry ily

@suikazura; bae i. how do i even say this. you’re literally the kindest, sexiest, funniest, loveliest person i’ve ever met. when i had a really bad day and broke down you were there to hype me up and tell me such wonderful things that i still think about all the time. you wrote a poem comparing me to the sun. ME?? THE SUN?? sui i don’t even know where to go with this ive never had someone do that for me and you doing that just makes me tear up and i’m tearing up writing this- and i love your humor so much despite the fact that it haunts me to this day and your art is so pretty and i could look at it for hours. like man i can’t believe someone like you exists i don’t deserve you at ALL. ilysm bubs

@cavalree; AZZIE WE HAVENT EVEN TALKED THAT MUCH BUT OUR CONVERSATION YESTERDAY WAS >>> THIS IS ME SAYING WE SHOULD TALK MORE WE HAVE A LOT IN COMMON

@fairyoomi + @luvromis + @rilacry; we’ve been moots for So Long but i have no idea what to talk about w u so i get intimidated and don’t talk :( ily guys so much though, you’re really sweet and kind and your humor is literally top tier. this is so weird to say but reading ur self-ship posts makes me so happy bc i feel like i can be open about my self-ship too,, it rlly comforts me and makes me feel loved hehe. i miss talking to u guys even though it was barely anything and i rlly hope 2021 is the year we get closer!!

@sophiashortcake + @star-puff + @kurooskult; we’ve recently become mutuals but i love your vibes!! i really hope i get to interact with you more next year so we can become closer <3

@bunx; BIG SIS!! literally i feel so bad for not talking to u because you’re literally the blueprint :( i just don’t know what to talk about and then get all freaked out XBSKSJD i’ve stared at your disc so many times debating what to say cbsjs but anyway thank you so much for being here from the beginning! i know for a fact ill wouldnt be where i am today w/out u 🥺 ilysm bubs

other moots that made this year so much more beautiful i want to get closer too!: @haikoo, @4fterh0urs, @run-004, @sugasugawarau, @s4ijoh, @gg9183, @baeshijima 🥺💗💗, @kozu-mei , @kaguol ily all so so much, you all are such amazing ppl and i hope we get to talk more!!