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kiribaku-queen · 4 years ago

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The Blood King and his Queen [7]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter because I think its my favorite chapter so far! FYI, if I don't update this series in a while, it'll be because I am working on an 18+ oneshot for a collab for Bakugou's birthday. So if that does happen, the regular uploads will happen after Bakugou's birthday. And let me tell you, its going to be S P I C Y~

But I can't express how surprised I am by all the love I'm receiving! I really wish I could respond to all your comments, but again, this is my side blog so I can't comment! If ya'll want to follow me on my main... please dont. LOL not to be mean or anything but I don't use my main at all and I don't post ever so there's no point in following me there :)

PLEASE ENJOY AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG! JOIN THE FAMILY!

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Your heart physically dropped when he said that. You felt sick. Your palms were sweating and shaking. The air around you grew dense and you felt like you couldn’t breath. You couldn’t move for that matter.

Ruin?

What would he do to you if he found out that you weren’t really a princess? That you were a fake lying to him this whole time. It made you sick, just imaging every cruel thing he could do once he found out. But then you remembered, he wasn’t like all the rumors you heard. He was different. He was kind and understanding. He wouldn’t really ruin you if he found out, would he? You shook away the thought. The more you think about it, the more you were likely to get caught.

You were completely exhausted from all that labor you produced in a week’s time. Town after town, you were able to help his people even if it was just a little bit. But it sure depleted a lot of energy out of you. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this drained before in your entire life. It’s not like you had to do hard physical labor back at the palace. This experience was hard on you but also gave you insight on the prince and his kingdom.

Completely drained of your energy, you sat down on one of the tree trunks his soldiers brought for you at the camp not far away from the village you were at. The impoverished village didn’t have enough shelter as is, so you were left with no option but to set up your own shelter. It wasn’t a big deal to you anyway since that’s how you’ve been spending your nights so far.

All the soldiers had gathered around to take a breather for the night and drink away the stress. You weren’t a drinker, but enjoyed the atmosphere the soldiers created: fun and rowdy, like they didn’t give a care in the world. They were dancing on tables, clinking their drinks together, singing songs while hooking their arms around each other’s shoulders.

You laughed at the sight and stretched out your arms. How you wanted to continue the night away but your muscles were soar and aching. A physical exhaustion that you weren’t used to and didn’t want to get used to.

Bakugou was watching his crew from the door, arms crossed and enjoying his crew have fun. He was never the one to be center of attention, so he had his own fun from the back. He saw the way you extended your arms, faced wincing from how sore you were. Cute. It was your last night of volunteer work, why not end the night with something special?

You felt the Blood Prince’s breath sneak up behind your neck, sending chills down your spine.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Maybe just a little,” you admit. You look up at him and he’s giving you those soft yet piercing eyes. He goes to sit next to you and everything is just… peaceful. In that moment you felt content. You felt free. If this was how life was out of the palace, if this was more to life than just serving a spoiled princess, then you didn’t want to leave.

“I am impressed, princess,” Bakugou spoke. “This whole trip, you never, not once sat out. You helped the whole time. Are you sure you’re a princess?” he side eyed you.

“If I am not a princess, then what am I?” you asked back. (y/n), what are you doing? You could expose yourself and everything would be ruined! But for some reason, you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to know his reaction and how he would respond. Maybe you would give up your whole mission for him.

“An innocent and hardworking beauty that is not a princess. She is my future queen who will help me restore this kingdom.” He came closer to you, meaning every single word. Your eyes softened and you got emotional, almost to the point of tears. He’s smiling at you, but suddenly gets up. But gestures for you to take his hand. Of course you did.

“I want to show you something,” he says and leads you away from the crowd of people and into the woods.

You two were walking for a while, your hand in his the whole way. He hadn’t told you where he was leading you to but it had to be something special if he was dragging you to what seemed like all across the country to get to your destination.

“Your highness, are we almost there yet?” you asked, fatigue hitting you once again.

“Almost,” he responds, continuing to look ahead. You huffed and held on tight to his hand so you didn’t get lost or left behind. After a few more minutes of walking, you felt the air get hotter and thinner. Bakugou smiles in front of you, looking excited.

“We’re here,” he announces. He pulls back these huge leaves, revealing a natural hot spring. The water was clear enough that you could see right through it, steam rising from the water, and rocks surrounding it, creating this gorgeous, peaceful atmosphere. Your eyes lit up and a loud gasp escaped your lips.

“How did you find this place?” you asked, getting closer to the hot spring.

“You like it? None of my men know about this place,” he says.

“It’s beautiful!” you continue to gasp, feeling the water with your hands. The heat of the water made you giddy and you couldn’t wait to hop in.

“You deserve it,” Bakugou comes up to, whispering in your ear. His statement made you blush, but this time, you didn’t hide it. He smirks behind you and you heard something falling to the floor. You dare turn around to see Bakugou shirtless, discarding his clothes one by one. As if your face wasn’t hot enough, steam was coming out of your ears with embarrassment.

“What are you doing?” you freaked out, turning around immediately.

“Getting in,” he said in the most obvious tone of voice.

“Together?”

“You’ll be on one side and I’ll be on the other,” he points out a huge rock, separating the hot spring into two pools. That seems a little better, but the idea of soaking in a hot spring together with the prince was nerve wracking.

“Princess, you can enter first, if that makes you feel better,” he suggested. When you turn to look at him, he already had his back turn out of respect for you.

So you undress and enter the heated water, noticing that all your muscles relaxed and the aches started going away as soon as you hit the water. You lean the back of your head on the rock and allow yourself to fully relax and destress. You could hear water splashing from the other side of the rock, indicating that Bakugou had also entered the water. Humming in satisfaction. You grew deeper and deeper in the hot spring until your nose was sitting on top of the water.

“Princess, I realize that I don’t know your name,” Bakugou spoke. Your name? You stayed silent. Was it wise to use your own name or should you continue to play as the princess?

“(y/n).” you decided.

“(y/n),” Bakugou repeated, elongating your name as if he stopped saying it, it’d disappear from him forever. The way your name left his lips felt like butter to him. He couldn’t help himself from repeated your name over and over again in his mind. You giggled and looked over the rock, arms crossed and head resting over them.

“Your highness, allow me to scrub your back,” you offered. Bakugou waved his hand while shaking his head.

“Nonsense. You shall not attend to me. We’re here to relax,” he had to remind you. But you insisted.

“But I want to, Prince Bakugou,” you pouted, jutting out your bottom lip.

“The high and mighty princess wants to wash the blood Prince’s back?” he questions playfully. He glances back to see you resting on top of the rock, giving him your big doe eyes.

“If you insist,” he gave up. He turns his back again, making sure to give you the privacy you needed to be able to come over to his side. You make your way over to him, covering your breasts in case. When you got settled behind him, you started washing his back.

You expected Bakugou to have scars from his many battles he’s had, but you didn’t expect his back to be covered in decolored and deformed wounds. Unknowingly, your hands went up to caress each scar.

“Does that frighten you?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you tell him honestly. “I think it makes you very brave.”

A comfortable silence fell upon you. Only the sound of water running and insects in the background could be heard. That was until you felt poke your butt. The hairs on your body hiked and you screamed as loud as you could, rising from the water in panic.

“Princess!” Bakugou instinctively put protection mode on, shooting up from his place to see what the danger was. You immediately clung to him, Bakugou wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. What Bakugou saw wasn’t an enemy but rather, a wild Japanese macaque monkey poking his head out of the water.

“Shoo!” Bakugou scared the monkey out of the water and back into the forest. Bakugou grunted and relaxed his shoulders. “Damn monkeys. I thought they only came out during the winter season. Are you okay, prin…cess,” he looked down at you only for you to look up at him with your exposed chest fully pressed against his chest. Now this could easily be the most embarrassing moment of your entire life. Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out another scream, using all your force to slap him across the face. Bakugou wasn’t expecting such a reaction and it caught him off guard. You put for much force into the slap that Bakugou flew back and fell into the water. You ran out of the spring, covering up as fast as you could.

Bakugou had never been so flustered in his life. He was a blushing mess and now the image of your naked breasts on him could not escape his mind. He needed time to calm himself down and a certain friend from getting too excited.

When you both had returned back to the rest of the crew, everybody had been knocked out cold from the alcohol. Thank goodness, because they couldn’t see how awkward you two were at the moment. That night, you slept in the tent again while Bakugou camped outside.

But you couldn’t sleep. How could that situation happen to you, out of all people? You weren’t sure how much he saw of your naked body. Maybe he didn’t see anything at all. But you saw the expression on his face, he definitely saw something. You covered your chest and closed your eyes. To think that a man saw your body and it wasn’t even your wedding night.

You felt the wind enter your tent, the chill making you shiver. If it was cold inside the tent, it must be extra cold outside. Bakugou was sleeping outside. You bit your lip in confliction. You wanted him to be warm but that means you had to confront him. Ah, fuck it. You opened your tent and saw Bakugou resting on the grass with his cape wrapped around him. And it wasn’t doing a very good job because you could see him shivering. He couldn’t hide it no matter how hard he tried.

“Would you like to come inside?” you invite him in.

“It’s for you, princess,” he reminded you.

“I understand. But it’s too cold to be sleeping out here. Please. I insist,” you urged. He opens one eye and sighs.

“As you wish, princess,” Bakugou gave in. You scooted over to make room for the large man to sleep next to you. Bakugou made himself comfy but he was a tad too tall for the tent that he had to have his legs hanging out. The opening of the tent revealed the big, bright moon overhead.

“I’m sorry for hitting you,” you apologized. Bakugou just lets out a breath.

“It’s whatever. I didn’t see anything, by the way,” he reassures you. Embarrassed again, you unconsciously covered your chest.

“You sure?”

“Erased from my mind,” he says as he closes his eyes and moves his hands around his head, as if he was erasing his memory. You laugh at his antics, more comfortable with the mood that was created. Bakugou laughs with you and turns to you, meeting eyes. This is the nth time that his heart leapt when you stare at him with those innocent, childlike eyes. He clears his throat and all of a sudden, his ears got red.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” Bakugou professed. You blinked in confusion. You weren’t sure why he said that. Glancing up at the moon, you guess you could say that it was beautiful. It was a full moon, and shone brightly above your heads. You weren’t versed in the poetics so you couldn’t comprehend the message the Blood Prince was trying to get at you.

“The moon is especially beautiful tonight. But isn’t the moon beautiful every night?” you responded.

Bakugou looks are you in mortification. Fuck, did he just get rejected? His ears got hot and he covered his mouth with his hands.

“Yeah… yeah it is,” he agreed, embarrassed. He took a deep breath in and back out again to calm his beating heart. You look over at him to see him a little distressed. You softly smiled, another side you got to see of him. It was cute. You could feel your heartbeat starting to pick its pace up and that’s when you realized. Gathering up all the courage you could muster, you leaned over to kiss him on the cheek you slapped.

“Good night,” you quickly say, then turned over to face away from him. Bakugou stops everything in his tracks and is frozen. He couldn’t help but smile and fall asleep next to you.

The moment you made the decision to kiss him was when you knew that you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to become his queen and rule his kingdom together. You were going to forget your past life. You were going to forget this mission you were on. You were the princess now. That was his truth and you weren’t going to change it.

A/N: For those who don't know, the phrase "the moon is beautiful, isn't it" or 月が綺麗ですね is a more poetic way of saying "I love you" in olden Japanese. And then the response to that would be "I can die happy" or 死んでもいいわ. Just for reference.

As I said before, I absolutely love this chapter and I really really REALLY want to know your reactions and thoughts!

Spoiler: drama starts in the next chapter :)

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know in the comments or DM me! and if you'd like to be tagged when my 18+ oneshot comes out, let me know too! I love you all!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @germfart3 @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma @bakugousmrs @random-fandom-girl-24 @monetfatalia @triviajeongin @readingslumpfanfic @softredrobin @briefhoundpartynickel @bnhahegao

#bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha imagines #bakugou imagine #bakugou romance #bakugou fluff #bakugou drama #bnha art #bakugou angst

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kaylaxwrites · 4 years ago

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Street Kid

Pairing: (platonic!) Frank Castle & Reader Words: 1.9k Request: “hi :) can you do a platonic frank castle imagine where he is in a fight and looses alot of blood and end up passing out in an alley but a street kid (16/17 yo female) stitches him up and saves him and later he runs into him and they develop a father-daughter relationship? thank you so much!” (anon) A/N: I don’t know if this is what you wanted, and my mind blanked half way through when trying to come up with some father/daughter scenarios, so that aspect of it probably isn’t the best. But!! even though requests are technically closed, I’ll also some father/daughter requests for if you have any specific situations/scenarios you wanted to see. Just because I feel really bad that I couldn’t write what I wanted to see so it’s probably not what you wanted to see lol

Warnings: reader has an ambiguous background of being kicked out by her parents and she’s homeless and also somewhat-graphic description of stitching somebody up. but it’s a punisher fic, so you know

You ducked through the alley, taking the shortcut you always took. You stumbled to a halt when you noticed a body laying on the ground. Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, you thought as you inched closer to the man, letting out a breath when you noticed the rise and fall of his chest. You hesitantly leaned over him, toeing him with the edge of your shoe. “Buddy…uh, you okay there?” you asked, nudging him a few more times. It wasn’t until the fifth nudge until he finally gasped awake, wildly swinging at you the instant his eyes opened.

“Woah, woah, woah,” you called, stepping back several feet. “Chill, dude, you’re fine.”

It was a few moments for him to calm his breathing and gather his surroundings. “Who’re you?” he grumbled, words almost slurred.

“Uh…Y/N. I was just walking by and I saw…” You noticed his wide away of injuries then. He was so bruised and bloodied, you weren’t sure where one wound ended and another began. Blood obscured his face so you couldn’t make out any details as to who he might have been. But the skull on the chest was a dead giveaway. The Punisher. “I think you need a hospital.”

“No—no hospitals.” He stumbled to his feet but crashed into a dumpster, unable to find his balance.

“Uh, yes. Yes hospitals.”

“M’fine.”

“Uh-huh. Is there…is there anyone after you? You look like you got the shit beat of you. They won’t be coming back, will they?”

“No. No.”

You sighed. “Glad that’s settled. So if no hospitals, you got anyone I can call? You got friends?”

“Look like I make friends?”

“No.” You looked around and sighed. “Well, I wouldn’t feel like a good Samaritan if I left you all by yourself. You wanna follow me or…?” He huffed something that almost sounded like a laugh, but hesitantly shuffled behind you after you started walking.

You kept pace with him as you navigated to your home. No, house? No…place you slept. The abandoned building that acted as the roof over your head wasn’t much, but it was all you had. After your parents had kicked you out a year and a half ago—and your subsequent emancipation—it was the best spot you could find. The shelters were always overcrowded and no landlord in their right mind would lease to a sixteen-year-old, so you settled. At the very least, you were able to spend money earned from your two fast food jobs on things other than rent. Like food. And a nice sleeping bag. And, useful in instances like this, a well-stocked first aid kit.

You held open the gap in the chain link fence for the man to wince his way through. In any other instance, you’d feel hesitant to let a stranger—a grown man, no less—into what acted as your home, but this was the Punisher you were talking about. Even though he…killed…people, you read enough in the news to know that his moral code—however skewed it was—wouldn’t let him hurt women or kids. As you fell squarely into that category, you figured you were safe.

You kicked open the door to your building and led the Punisher up the stairs to the room where you camped out. You directed him to sit on the dusty table at the center of the room. You pulled out the first aid kit you had, as well as a couple clean towels you had nicked from work. You set those on the table next to the Punisher before pulling the 48-pack of water bottles out from under the table. You wet a towel with one of the bottles and handed it to him. He started cleaning his face until he could finally see clearly through the blood.

“You live here?” he asked after taking in the room fully. You noticed his eyes lingered on the sleeping bed and mat framed by battery-operated string lights in the corner of the room. Then he finally took in your appearance. “Jesus, you’re just a kid.” And your age, apparently.

“I’m eighteen!” you tried to defend yourself. Frank arched an eyebrow, eyes sliding to your stuffed animal still propped up on your pillow. You sighed, looking down. “Sixteen. And a half,” you added after a moment. As if it would help your case.

“Where are your parents?”

You crossed your arms defensively. “It’s a long story.”

“Fair enough.” He looked around the room once more. “You got a mirror I can use?” You nodded and slid a half-shattered mirror from behind the door. He nodded his thanks and stepped over to the mirror, sliding his shirt and vest off with a grimace.

You puttered around while he did whatever he needed to fix himself up and clean himself off. You tried to avoid looking over at him, the blood making your stomach queasy. You were able to ignore him until he caught your attention half an hour later.

“Kid,” he called. “Kid. Hey, kid!”

It was the last one that startled you to attention. You jumped and turned to face him. He was cleaned and stitched up. For the most part. He definitely looked a lot better than when you saw him for the first time. But you still thought he should go to the hospital. Punisher or not.

“I need your help,” he continued.

“How am I supposed to help?” you asked.

He turned to show you a gash on the back side of his ribcage. “Needs stitched. I can’t reach it.”

“And you want me to…” You gulped.

“You got anyone else here to help out?”

“Well…no.”

He gestured you over and then pressed a needle and tweezers in your hands. You eyed the curved suturing needle warily. “I’ve already sterilized everything. I just need you to close it.” He braced himself against the wall with his opposite arm.

“I—I don’t know what to do.”

He pulled your hands so they were against the wound. “You gotta pinch it closed then about half a centimeter from the edge slide the needle in and straight across.”

You followed his directions and gagged at the feeling of the needle sliding through skin. “Oh my god! That is disgusting!”

“Yeah, yeah, keep going.”

You gagged again as you pulled the needle through the opposite edge of skin. “Now what?” you asked, breathing heavily.

“Double knot it and cut it off. And then go every quarter inch or so until the end.”

You did as he said until the entire would was sealed off. You raced to grab a bottle of water to pour over your hands. You never wished more for running water so you could thoroughly wash the blood off your hands—and the memory of feeling the sutures pull against skin. “Please tell me that’s the only one,” you said when your hands were the cleanest they were going to get.

“Yeah, that’s the only one.”

“You do that often?”

He chuckled. “More than I should.” He shrugged his bloody shirt back on, seemingly preparing to leave. “You stay here by yourself?”

“For the most part,” you answered. “I mean, sometimes there’s a few kids who hole up downstairs, but for the most part, it’s just me.”

Frank looked conflicted, as if he wanted to leave but didn’t feel right leaving you here alone. After a few moments, he seemed to make up his mind. “I should probably lie low for a little while. You mind if I stay out in the hallway?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I don’t…I don’t have, like, any extra pillows or anything to give you, though.”

“Trust me, kid, I’ve slept in worse places than that dingey hallway.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I probably should…be getting to bed,” you said. You weren’t anywhere near tired, but you don’t want him to feel like he needed to hang around you any longer. You passed him two water bottles as he stepped outside of the room. “Well, uh, goodnight, Frank.”

He tensed as you said his name. “How do you know my name?”

You almost rolled your eyes. “Uh, it’s not exactly like you’re incognito. The Punisher logo on your vest kind of gave it away.”

“Right. Night, kid.”

“Goodnight.”

You smiled and shut the door, moving to curl into your little bedspace. If you were being completely honest, you felt the safest tonight sleeping here than you’d ever had. Logically, you knew the Punisher was supposed to be some big, scary man, but deep down, you knew no harm would come to you with Frank Castle sitting just outside your door.

The sunlight slowly woke you the next morning. You squinted into the light that poured in from the broken window above your sleeping bag. You turned over and tried to fall back asleep, but it was no use. You rose from the makeshift bed, wincing as your joints popped, and made your way to the hallway. You looked down each end, but Frank was gone. It didn’t surprise you that he left at some point in the night, but you couldn’t say you weren’t a little disappointed he wasn’t there. You shuffled back into your room, freezing when you saw what was on the table.

Breakfast.

A hot, steaming breakfast.

You weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it earlier, what with the smell now wafting towards your nose. Instantly, your stomach rumbled. You rushed over to the takeout container, eager to find what was inside. A sticky note on top simply read “Thanks, kid,” but you set it aside. Your mouth watered the instant you opened the container.

Pancakes.

This was probably the single most happiest moment of your life. You hadn’t had a hot meal—let alone a hot breakfast—in who knows how long. The platter spread before you seemed like a feast. You dug in happily, savoring every bite until it was gone.

That was the last you expected to hear from the Punisher. You stitched him up, he bought you breakfast the next day as thanks, that should be it, right?

Turns out Frank Castle was a man of many surprises.

Nearly every single day from that point forward, you would find a takeout container centered on your table. Sometimes, he left you breakfast like that first day—sometimes pancakes, sometimes omelets, but all from the diner a few blocks down the road. Other days, he’d bring you dinner, leaving Chinese takeout containers piled high on the table or a Tupperware container full of homemade spaghetti. You weren’t sure who made the spaghetti—you couldn’t exactly picture Frank in the kitchen—but it was incredible, nonetheless.

Your favorite days were when Frank lingered after dropping the food off, eventually going as far as to sit and eat with you when he could. Those days left you feeling the happiest. Dinners with Frank happened more and more until he offered you the small second bedroom in his rundown apartment. “I’m never gonna use it,” he said, “and I’m not gonna bust you out of jail if you get caught for trespassing.” You eagerly grabbed the opportunity with both hands—you wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, especially if that horse would get you out of this rat- and cockroach-infested hellhole. Living in an actual apartment would be a dream.

Thinking back on everything, you weren’t sure when the feeling began, but one day, you realized…you felt like a family. By all means, the relationship you had with Frank Castle was far more familial and paternal than any you’d ever had with your biological family. With each passing day, you couldn’t be happier that you’d stumbled across a half-dead Punisher in the alley that night.

#Frank Castle & Reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle & you #frank castle x you #frank castle imagine #tagging x reader bc I don't even know if anyone follows & reader #but it's platonic #so #mine

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shoot-the-oneshot · 5 years ago

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No Secrets In The Gym

Requested @boredom1738

#12 “am I your lock screen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Part 1 here No Secrets In Paris

Steve Rogers x reader

It’s times like this that you’re happy you know this tower like the back of your hand.

Natasha was on you the second you walked out of your room, badgering you about a blind date she wanted to set you up on, because apparently you’re ‘work crazy and will die alone’ You’ve been zoning out ever since.

“I appreciate it Tash, I do. But I’m fine.”

“Come on Y/n, we’re already going to get in trouble for being late to spar with Rogers, at least make the punishment worth it by meeting the guy!”

Natasha groans, pushing open the door to the gym, the teams morning workout session. She was right, you guys will definitely get in trouble for being late. Cap, was nothing if not punctual. Your punishment will just be a little different.

No one knew about you and Steve, you two have been secretly dating for 8 months, after an undercover mission where you both went under as a married couple, let’s just say Tony wasn’t wrong when he said pretending wasn’t hard for you guys.

“Sorry Nat.”

You barley got the words out of your mouth before Sam started yelling.

“Look who finally showed up!”

You sit on the bench to retie your shoes while Natasha and Sam go at it. When shoes appear in front of yours. Smirking, slowly trailing your eyes up his tall, muscular body. Meeting his blue eyes swimming with mischief.

“You’re late.”

His says, hands on his narrow waist. To anyone else it would look as if he was scolding you. But you knew better, he was enjoying this.

“And I’m sure you’ll find the best way to punish me, won’t you captain.”

He loves it when you call him that, of course not where he can’t do something about it, but when you strip out of your tank top leaving you in a tight sports bra and shoot him a wink, he can’t be mad.

You and Steve were standing off to the side watching Natasha and Sam spar in the boxing ring. His arm brushing against yours, you’re almost surprised no one has found out yet, considering they are all spies and the fact Steve has a constant need to touch you.

“Our turn.”

Steve’s lips skimming over your ear as he pushes past you to the ring. Both of you going in circles sizing the other up, now it was his turn to scan you.

You used his distraction to strike, wrapping your arms around him in an attempt to tackle him. Go big or go home right. Grabbing you by your waist, twisting and dropping you against the mat. Straddling your hips holding your hands above your head.

“Got you baby.”

He smirked, leaning over you. Subtlety grinding your hips into his, Steve’s eyes widening in shock. Flipping him off, you now being in top. “Got you baby.”

Standing up leaving him shocked on the mat. High-fiving Sam who was freaking out that you pinned the one and only Captain America. Splitting off to find Nat while the boys lift weights across the room.

“So, I have to ask. Is it an older guy thing or authority thing?”

Swallowing the sudden lump on your throat while you unwrap your hands. Shaking your head at the former assassin.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Scoffing almost offended that you underestimate her skills.

“Well, if the fact he’s always staring at you and finding someway to touch you weren’t hints. Then this definitely was.”

Holding up your phone like it was a trophy, her smile widening at the look on your face.

You knew it was stupid to have that as your background, but you had a way out already planned.

“It’s Steve!”

“It’s not Steve.”

Natasha, rolled her eyes. At your weak defense. If you weren’t going to take the easy way, the hard way it was. Marching over to Steve and Sam, you chasing after her.

“Are you telling me these aren’t the same!”

Holding your phone next to your boyfriends abs. How you missed him taking off his shirt was beyond you, but you were wishing he didn’t right about now.

“Those could be anybody’s abs.”

“I’m your lock screen?”

You and Steve said at the same time.

Nat was smirking, happy she was right while Sam was gaping in shock. You could’ve played it off if the picture wasn’t clearly taken in bed, your sheets were pulled down exposing his abdomen, you took the picture as a joke, and set it as your lock screen when he said you wouldn’t, and well, you just had to do it then.

“So ask I asked before, how long?”

Your eyes met his, he’s been wanting to come clean for a while, looks like now’s the perfect time. Stepping closer? wrapping his arm around you, cringing as his sweat drops onto your shoulder.

“8 months.”

“You’ve been together for 8 months!”

Sam and Nat yelled. How did they not see it.

“We have, I think that’s enough training for today and I’m sure you both are dying to tell everyone.”

Steve says, grabbing your things leaving the two behind. Steering you back to his room dumping his gym bag on the floor.

“Now that everyone knows, want to take a shower before the interrogation?”

Running his finger tips up and down the length of you arms. Motioning his head to the en-suite bathroom.

“Go ahead, I’ll grab us some clothes.”

Giving you a quick kiss following your instructions, going to start the shower just how you like it. Searching through his

T-shirts for the comfiest looking one when you hit something. Looking over your shoulder seeing Steve’s blurry figure behind the steamed glass.

Pulling out the small ring box, losing your breath. You’re pretty sure You weren’t supposed to see that. Nervously shoving it back under the shirts when Steve calls your name. Smiling as he sees you step in the shower, reaching up wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him into a hug, his size shielding you from the hot water. You’d say yes, whenever he ask you know your answer will be yes.

“I love you doll,”

Softly kissing your neck, still holding you tightly against him.

“I love you too,”

Part 1

!! Hoped you guys liked it, please check out my prompt list and send requests !!

#bucky x reader #steve rogers imagine #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #steve rodgers x reader #steve x reader #sam wilson imagine #tony stark imagine #johnny storm imagine

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hopevalley · 4 years ago

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Season 8, Episode 10: Old Love, New Love, Is This True Love

All right, so...like I said, work has picked up and my eyes feel like old marbles from staring at numbers (the woes of working in accounting I guess) so I want to get this written up and tossed into the nether before I lose steam and motivation to do it. The interesting thing about these little write-ups is that as the week goes on they just get harder and harder to write...

I do apologize in advance to those who like the long-winded write-ups. I’m just not up to it at the moment. Still feeling kind of bleh from the episode.

Let’s go back to an old format, shall we?

The Good

We might as well start out with the things about this episode that I enjoyed!

Gossip Hour with the Men was one of the best openers they’ve had on the show in a while. It was genuinely funny without being meanspirited. Nobody looked like the bad guy. Everyone just calmly talked about it alike it was a normal thing to maybe call off the wedding. Bill calling out Carson for giving marriage advice was pretty funny, Mike was a delight. I don’t know what to say. I’d watch a whole episode of The Boys just hanging around spending time together.

Florence’s worry that she’s ugly was...not a terrible idea for a storyline, but the actress is too good-looking to pretend to be ugly (I saw her in this pretty yellow dress on Instagram a couple years ago and she was smashing)? Also, it’s not like Ned is a handsomely aged gentleman (like Henry lol) so it makes even less sense for the characters. I think they should have gone with Florence feeling she’s “plain” and that dressing up Super Nice makes her feel uncomfortable because she just doesn’t feel like Herself and worries maybe it’s projecting a false sense of Who She Is or something? I guess overall I still liked that an attempt was made to add some depth to Florence and her difficulties in choosing a dress/hairstyle, so...it goes here.

Ned asking Henry to be his best man was nice, too. I can forgive the shoddy pacing and weird placement of this request (like I do with almost everything in the show) but only because the scene was just...so incredibly wholesome.

I like how Henry just casually is like, “Well maybe today’s just not the day.” I think it eased Ned’s mind just a little that he CAN back out if he really wants to.

I think it’s worth thinking about the fact that Ned and Henry would have always worked very closely, since the mercantile would have been a company store before the mine closed down... I like Henry and Ned as pals.

I’m glad the “investment” thing with Jesse and Clara’s savings was brought up in a way that...makes sense. And also, glad it wasn’t forgotten.

I really liked Molly and Florence in this episode. I’m a little sad Florence married Ned because I AM SORRY BUT I WANTED TO KEEP SHIPPING MOLLY AND FLORENCE TOGETHER UGHGHGHH

But their relationship is so good and maYBE Elizabeth will learn something from them.

Hey Elizabeth...you see that?

YOU SEE THAT?

Just saying.

And then later...

“You are the sister I never had, the mother I forever wanted, the friend I have always needed. From the depths of those dark and terrifying coal mines you’ve walked beside me, picking me up whenever I’ve stumbled along the way.”

AAAAAAAAA IT GOT ME.

I’m...really liking Fiona and Mike’s relationship, whatever it is. I kind of think they’re not headed toward anything romantic. Everyone thinks Mike is really into Fiona but at the end of the episode we realize he likes talking to her about business; it’s almost like they have this shared passion for numbers/ideas and he likes infodumping to her (and vice-versa).

I think they’re going to end up being “just friends” and Fiona will end up paired off with the man Elizabeth doesn’t choose. They hinted at Nathan briefly in this episode (with Allie’s hair), but who knows? I’m over trying to speculate on where the triangle is going at this point, but I actually like Fiona’s relationship with Mike so much that I’ll be disappointed if she fades into the background with Nathan or Lucas. Mike deserves more screentime.

Ned and Florence sharing their fIRST KISS. My husband got emotional over this. And I admit, it was starting to get to me, too. I can’t NOT root for them.

I said it before and I’ll say it again: I WOULD DIE FOR THE CANFIELDS.

The wedding was nice. I liked that Bill and Joseph officiated it together; it gives Joseph a li’l trial run of pastoring and finally Bill gets to use some of that power of his to officiate a wedding.

“Please, if you’d like” is such a Bill way to say that they may kiss LOL.

Also, I have to admit that I did enjoy Lucas calling Nathan out about Allie. She wouldn’t be caught in the middle if he’d leave Elizabeth alone AND HE IS RIGHT LMAO.

The last good thing: Elizabeth telling Nathan she doesn’t blame him for Jack’s death. Nice. Good. Thank you. He probably needed to hear that.

...THE BAD

Carson and Faith. UGH. UGHHHHHHHHHH. BREAK UP ALREADY I HATE YOU BOTH.

I appreciated that Carson had the ring ages ago, and I did like his conversation with Minnie—or more accurately, her advice to him. I felt like she was nudging him toward, “Remember why you became a surgeon in the first place.” If he became a surgeon to help people, then there’s no reason he can’t help people where he is. Sure, he might not be doing state of the art procedures but with Faith working alongside him, he can afford time to learn new things and go to doctor conventions or even take a specialized class now and then. No other doctor could get away for very long but he has that chance!

And he’ll arguably be doing more good in the middle of nowhere than in the city. All the doctors want to live in the city. Nobody wants to barely get paid for their time in the countryside.

We had a whole episode that made it clear that Faith and Carson don’t make a lot of money and do a lot of charity work. They also work for trade goods (mostly food). So it’s like...a pretty big difference in lifestyle?

Half the reason I can’t get invested in these characters is because I really can’t stand Paul Greene. He just...annoys me on every single level imaginable. But he’s a decent actor and I can’t help but feel that his character was a massive waste of space for the past few seasons through no fault of the man himself. Imagine introducing a character like Carson and then leaving him to rot before you try to make him interesting with a romance plot that nobody asked for.

Yes, some people really like Faith and Carson, but as a whole I think the fandom didn’t buy into them as a ship due to the lack of chemistry.

It really is a shame. This episode didn’t do a thing to endear me to either character. Please, Carson. I am begging you to leave town.

This one particular line of dialogue almost enraged me.

WE KNOW WE KNOW WE KNOW WE KNOW WE CAN SEE THAT FOR OURSELVES. WHY DID THEY HAVE ROSEMARY SAY THIS LIKE IT’S AN EPISODE OF A CHILD’S TV SHOW?

Elizabeth.........

How could Katie have...looked up to her? She was never in her class? That was? Never part of anything? It was just something they threw in here to force Elizabeth to make 1% more sense in the role she’s in but IT STILL DOESN’T WORK.

I felt like I was back in Season 5 again with Lori and Elizabeth putting their nose in everyone’s business except it’s just Elizabeth!! The whole plot, which was boring and contrived anyway, should have gone to Molly, since she’s Florence’s best friend and another woman from town that Katie would have known as a child.

AND ALSO, MOLLY WOULD HAVE KNOWN KATIE’S MOTHER AND WOULD REMEMBER THE GRIEF THAT NED STRUGGLED WITH.

I know they wanted to make Elizabeth give advice so that she’d Realize that she needs to, I don’t know, make better choices or something, but it was too on the nose for me and I hated it.

GinithePooh on Reddit made a good comparison to Elizabeth in this episode by saying she reminded them of Clippy from Microsoft Word, always popping up and offering to help when nobody really needs or wants advice.

To honor their incredible idea, I opened Photoshop and created this gem, which I will also be posting separately so that people can reblog it if they wish to.

I also don’t think I need to say also filed under The Bad is the fact that Elizabeth didn’t even apologize for being awful to Rosemary and then gave her unsolicited advice to other people for two days straight. I can’t believe they wrote that?

All I can say is that her apology to Rosemary, when it comes, better be good.

And I didn’t like this either:

I wish it had been followed up by literally anything: Nathan saying he’s sorry he didn’t tell her sooner or something to make the hand-holding actually be a little more innocent.

As it is, it just seems so deliberate?

Maybe the next episode starts off right in this scene and we’ll get that? If so, this might actually end up being fine. I just don’t think it is if it doesn’t get a little more direct attention.

& THE UGLY

I debated on putting anything in here, because I’m not ready to talk about my feelings on this matter, at least not fully. But I’ve been pretty quiet all season so far, and...eh, why not just mention things in advance? What will it hurt?

Let me preface this section by saying I’m biased and I doubt hardly anyone on this site will agree with me, so feel free to just ignore this part if that’s the case.

There are two things that I really didn’t like in this episode.

I hate the slanting toward Bill/Molly.

I like Molly just fine but I don’t like her with Bill. I’m biased as all getout and also worried about the future/potential Season 9 with regards to this. I don’t want to see it. Like at all. Why, you ask? You should know why if you follow me. I’m super transparent.

It’s because I like AJ AND I WANT HER BACK LOL.

John Tinker rewatched the series so we know he wouldn’t have missed that hanging plot thread—especially since he didn’t forget any of the other things that were brought up this season! So why didn’t she appear this season? The love triangle absolutely needed to be a focus or it would have never ended, so that’s part of it, but I’m also pretty sure Josie Bissett wasn’t interested in doing any filming last year during Covid. My only “proof” is that Wedding March 6 wasn’t filmed last year even though it was scheduled to be filmed, but it makes sense. Last year was chaos.

THAT SAID, Jack Wagner posted on his Instagram the other day that they are actually filming Wedding March 6 now, so... I guess AJ’s re-appearance in Season 9 wouldn’t come as too much of a surprise if they wanted to write it.

You’d think I’d be hyped about that, and I kind of am? But it doesn’t come without its share of worries, too. We just had the worst love triangle in the history of love triangles and I really don’t want another one, especially if it makes any of the characters in question look stupid or mean.

I fully admit a well-written love triangle could be a LOT of fun for them* (low stakes because they’re not front and center characters), but I saw how Nathan was written so far this season and I really, REALLY do not want to see that happen to Molly, Bill, or AJ.

Anyway, not a fan of the Molly/Bill stuff. No chemistry. I don’t want it.

*I would totally write a fanfic like this lmao.

And finally...the part that everyone will hate me for:

I DO NOT WANT TO SEE ABIGAIL COME BACK. And I specifically do not want her to come back ‘cause I do not wanna see Henry/Abigail happen.

I fully recognize that a lot of you like it and ship the heck out of it, and that’s...good. I’m glad you enjoy it. I loathe it, though, and I worry that all these hints (more like...mentions) are leaning toward...something. Like, either they’re:

1) Sending Abigail off/tying up that loose end with Henry (since nothing was ever clarified either way), or

2) Warming up the audience to receive Abigail back on the show.

I’m pretty into the idea of one-sided Henry/Abigail. Hindsight is 20/20, regrets, that’s all some juicy stuff to give a character like Henry. Some things can’t ever be made right again. He had too direct of a connection to the death of her husband and son for me to ever want to see them together. Forgiveness? Yes. A careful but meaningful friendship? Yes. Romantic relationship? Uh...no thanks.

I liked the Abigail mentions at first because I felt like...the character still mattered (as she should) but I’m at a point where I feel like they’re trying really hard to steer the fandom’s view a certain way and not knowing where it’s going is extremely unsettling to me.

I’ll probably talk more about the things that bother me when the season ends, because I’m hoping to have a better idea of where things are going to be headed, but for now just...know that I feel very apprehensive.

And keep in mind that I primarily watch this show for Bill these days, since all my previous faves (AJ, Frank, the old Abigail, Dottie) have exited, stage left. I also always really liked seeing Henry. So as you can imagine, seeing plotlines I hate for the only two characters I’m invested in? Is making me consider dropping the series next year.

My husband told me I should hate-watch it, but I don’t know if my heart can take it. I’ve been following this series for so long...it just...kind of hurts to feel let down like this?

But sometimes an ongoing series ends up going where you...didn’t want it to, and it becomes something that’s no longer right for you. I hope that doesn’t happen, but last night’s episode makes me feel like...it might be happening for real this time.

I guess if that holds true it’ll be back to fanfiction for me. Will that novelization I planned ages ago end up getting written? Will I write the best love triangle fanfic known to man? WHO KNOWS.

For now, we’ll all have to wait and see! Two more episodes left. I’m really curious to see how they resolve some of the open plots right now. :>

#when calls the heart #long post #character studies and information #analysis and meta discussion

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poetic-emptiness-fanfic · 4 years ago

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Livin’ La Vida Loca (Echoes of the Past 15: Freebie!)

Finally it is finished! I had an irritating writing block, but I’m happy it’s over now. This fic sets during the plague, when Hande is apprenticing with Julian.

The name of this fic is from a song Livin’ La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin

Characters: Hande Kuura & Julian Devorak

Content warning: some profanities

Words: ~3 250

@arcana-echoes

It has been a long day at the clinic – lots of patients and lots of research. Julian is tired and he can see that his apprentice is as well. She tries to put on a brave face, but he can see that she's very tense – has she had any chance to relax? They have been working together for five months, but Julian has only seen Hande at work. He has learned that Hande is extremely conscientious, fast learner and she really cares for the patients. He has also found out, that like him, Hande loves reading and it is fun to discuss about different books during their lunch breaks. Julian has grown to like her, and even see her as his friend – the busy days feel less tiring with her around.

After locking the door behind the last patient, Julian turns to Hande and smiles at her, ”Well, that was a busy one. Great work – I can't even realise how I did manage before you tagged along!” Hande chuckles to Julian's praises and shrugs, ”Thanks, but it's not just me – you really are a spectacular doctor, believe it or not.” Julian blushes by the compliment, but Hande is too polite to point it out. She just pats her teacher's hardel and goes to change to her everyday clothes. While Julian is in the other room changing himself he ponders if he should ask Hande out. They are practically colleagues and they're also friends, so it wouldn't be inappropriate. He also has a feeling that Hande is quite lonely, with her family and friends in Karnassos.

”Hey, Hande?” Julian shouts to his apprentice so she could hear her, ”Would you mind if I took you somewhere? Erm, to let our hair down, so to speak?” The doctor hears only silence for a moment, before Hande's voice echoes from another room, ”No, I wouldn't mind, that sounds nice.” Julian lets out a relieved sigh and his lips twitch into a small smile, ”Great! I can offer you something to eat as a thank you, if you wish?” He hears Hande coming back to the office while she hums in affirmative. After Julian's done, he goes to the office and sees Hande opening her hair which is tied into a French twist. Her hair is pretty long, he notes, settling to the level of her waist. Stop gawking! That's inappropriate!

Hande turns to look at Julian, looking a little embarrassed, ”I don't want to keep the same hairstyle during my free time, otherwise I'd never let go of the work stuff. It probably sounds silly...” Julian gives Hande a friendly smile and shakes his head, ”No, it doesn't sound silly at all. It's good you have ways to avoid thinking about work during your free time.” Hande smiles back, separates her hair in two parts and starts to braid the other half. Julian is looking at her procedure and his curiosity takes over, ”Uhm, may I ask what are you going to do?” Hande glances at Julian before she turns back and continues braiding, ”I'm going to make two braids and pull them over my head, like a headband. Then no one gets the opportunity to try and pull my hair.” Julian seems to think for a moment and before he can reconsider he asks, ”Do you... Do you want me to braid the other half? It'd be faster that way.” Hande turns to face Julian, looking surprised, but also a little amused, her eyebrows raising. Before Hande can say anything Julian blurts, ”Uhm, I can braid... I have a little sister... I used to braid her hair sometimes.”

Hande's eyes widen for a little moment – she didn't expect to hear something like that. She recovers from her shock quickly and beckons Julian to come closer. Julian understands that Hande has accepted his offer and tentatively starts to braid her hair. It feels slippery and soft in his hands – completely different than Pasha's hair. ”Tell me about her. Your sister, I mean,” Hande asks silently after a moment of silence. Julian chuckles and starts to tell while braiding, ”Her name is Pasha. She's three years older than you and we grew up in Nevivon together...” He continues telling about his sister while they are working on Hande's hairstyle. Hande looks satisfied and compliments Julian's work which causes the poor doctor to blush again. When the duo is ready Julian dramatically offers his arm to Hande, who laughs and with an exaggerated curtsey takes it. ”Well, Doctor Devorak, show me the way!”

***

Hande looks curiously at the sign above her head: The Rowdy Raven. She has never been here before and she's curious to see it. The place seems to be a tavern, but it looks rather cozy when she peeks through the window. Still, she can't help feeling a little nervous – what if she ends up being too obviously out of place? Well, fortune favors the brave, as they say... Hande lets Julian lead her into the tavern. They're welcomed with loud laughter and music playing in the background – there's a band playing in a corner. That makes Hande feel herself more at home, if you could call a tavern a home.

The young woman looks around her. There are locals and people from abroad, all of them having a good time chatting or playing cards with each other. People who notice her and Julian entering turn to greet her teacher with joy on their faces. Hande tenses a little, because it is clear, that Julian is very popular person in here, and Hande is... Well, she's here for the first time in her life, although she's lived in Vesuvia for almost a year. Julian squeezes Hande with his arm reassuringly, ”I'd get us some food and drinks. Do you have any wishes?” Hande looks a little pensive, but she decides it's better to speak than stay silent. ”Uhm... Are there... Are there any non-alcoholic drinks? I'm a teetotaler...” she whispers uncertainly.

Julian freezes on the spot. Shit. Congratulations, you've fucked up and brought a teetotaler to a tavern.. You idiot... His faces turns red again and he sputters, ”I-I'm sorry! I didn't know that...” Hande notices Julian's panicking and hurries to assuring him, ”No, no, it's fine! I don't mind others drinking, well at least if they're not steaming... I've just never amused to drink alcohol myself... It isn't because of any belief, if that's any comfort...” Julian is surprised, how Hande is nervous about his reaction, and can't help but smile to her, ”No, you don't need to worry! I don't mind at all, and you're not obliged to explain your reasons, if you don't want to. There should be also some non-alcoholic drinks, so no harm done.” Hande smiles to him thankfully which makes Julian a little giddy. No, concentrate. Go and order your food and drinks!

Hande waits by a table when Julian gives their orders to a barkeeper. The young woman glances around, observing other patrons curiously, wondering where some of them might come from. Soon Julian comes back with their drinks. ”Barth said he'll bring the food soon,” he says, handing her a glass with lime green liquid in it. ”I hope you like this one, I wasn't quite sure what to get,” Julian says, looking a little embarrassed. Hande smiles at him reassuringly and takes a little sip from her drink. It's suitably sweet with citrus aroma – probably lemon and lime combined. ”This is so good! Dr. Devorak, how did you manage to choose a drink I like so much?” Hande asks sounding impressed, which makes the poor Julian to blush again. ”Well, erm... I wish I could say it was intuition, but... uhm... I remember how you once told me you like lemons so...” the man stammers. Now it's Hande's turn to get embarrassed; she doesn't blush visibly, but she can feel her cheeks burn. Julian remembers random things I've mentioned to him? ”You're way too good friend for me... I really am flattered, that you remember my ramblings.”

A little later Barth, the barkeeper, brings their meals in front of them and they eat in comfortable silence, sometimes asking or commenting something. Hande finds the tavern's atmosphere a little rowdy, but not hostile, and she feels more at ease. It's nice to spend time with Julian and see him outside of their work. Suddenly Hande's concentration turns to a discussion a few tables away. There are four men discussing in a foreign language which Hande recognises as Hjallean. She gets excited – she hasn't met any people from her mother's hometown for a long time. She apologises Julian and turns to face the men, ”Förlåt mig. Är ni från Hjalle?¹” The men turn to face Hande, looking positively surprised, ”Ja. Hur kan du tala hjalska, är du från där också?²” Hande smiles and answers, ”Jag föddes i Karnassos. Min mamma är från Hjalle, men hon tillhör Skogsfolket.³” The quintet continues their excited conversation. Julian smiles and watches how Hande speaks fluently in Hjallean, and listens when she finds out that the men are sailors and actually know her grandfather. Hande seems so happy to hear from her family that Julian can feel it, too. He also can't help, but to miss his own family a little.

A little later Julian also joins the conversation which causes the men and Hande to cheer in surprise. The group has a friendly conversation and orders drinks to each other, until the band starts to play a Hjallean folk song which causes the sailors and Hande to sing along. Julian can't help but notice how Hande's voice is clear and beautiful, echoing above hollering of the sailors. To be entirely honest, Julian is mesmerized my her voice – she sounds like a siren, without ill intent, of course. After the song had ended, the sailors cheer to Hande, who looks a little humbled after getting that much attention, but still has a small smile on her face. The band's leader shouts to their table, ”Since the miss sang so beautifully, you can decide our next song!” Hande glances at Julian with a confused expression on her face. Julian just smiles to her encouragingly and winks. Hande smirks and states, ”I will decide, but on one condition: I get to play it, too.”

The band leader looks curious, ”Can the miss play, as well?” Hande nods and answers, ”Yes, I can play the fiddle. I've had lessons since I was a little girl.” The other band members grin and the fiddler steps up, handing their instrument to Hande. She stands up and walks to the corner, inspecting the fiddle for a moment. After she's satisfied, she tunes the instrument and asks, ”Do you know this song?” Hande plays a little part as a sample and the band leader chuckles and agrees. The leader gives a mark about starting the song and Hande joins the band. Julian is awed: this woman doesn't have a single drop of alcohol in her, and she still is having the time of her life. Joyful, wonderful singer and player even – and she's never mentioned any of that to him. This fascinating combination of humbleness and showmanship. Julian watches how Hande's fingers move on the fiddle, how concentrated she is. The song is a little melancholic, but still eventful and fast. The world seems to disappear: there's only music and Hande.

The enchantment is broken when the song ends. Hande remembers where she is and is a little flabbergasted by her courage, but is happy that she played. She doesn't remember when was the last time she had this much fun – in Julian's company she feels at ease, like her old self is coming back to life after so many years. Hande turns to see Julian who is cheering and applauding to them with the others at the tavern. The band leader thanks her when she gives the fiddle back to its owner and returns to her companion. ”Wow... I didn't know you could sing or play!” Julian compliments when she sits down. Hande lowers her gaze for a moment, but soon looks up and shrugs, ”Well... You don't need singing or playing when you're trying to be a doctor's apprentice. To be honest, complimenting myself is really hard for me, and I got this temporary moment of courage. I haven't played in front of an audience for years.” Julian smiles to Hande and feels warmth inside of him – he isn't sure if it's because of alcohol or his company. Concentrate. She's your apprentice. Julian clears his throat and speaks again, ”Did you like it? Playing in front of an audience, I mean.” Hande seems pensive before she gives a hesitant answer, ”Yes.”

Before Julian can say or do anything else, one of the sailors cut in. ”You should be proud of yourself, you really did great back there! Was that a Forestian song? I recognised it, but I'm not sure.” Hande turns to face the sailors and nods, ”Yes. I was surprised the band knew it, but it was fun. Karnassian music is much more popular, so it's nice to hear Hjallean ones for a change.” The group continues their conversation, but Julian is mostly concentrated on Hande. When they are telling about their work to the sailors, Julian, now a little tipsy, tells in surprising excitement, ”Yes... But you know what? Hande here, she... She can do MAGIC!” Hande doesn't have time to react before the sailors gasp in excitement and plead her to show them. Julian now realises he might have screwed up and tries to come to her rescue, but Hande speaks after a little silence, ”Would you like to hear a story? I can illustrate it with magic.” The sailors and even Julian show their enthusiasm for the idea. One of the sailors suggest a scary story and Hande proceeds, telling a Karnassian story about a jinn who fell in love with a human, but in time the human went mad for being so close to the jinn.

Probably for the first time in his life, Julian is awed by seeing magic. The light figures dancing in the air while Hande tells the story such a fascinating way make Julian feel giddy, almost like a child again. Being with Hande here and how... radiant she is, it's nearly overwhelming. The story is indeed scary, but he can't help but smile at her, and his heart jumps when Hande gives him a little smile back with her sparkling eyes. Other patrons have also gathered around watching the spectacle and shower Hande with compliments after the story is over. The sailors try to ask her to tell another, but Hande chuckles, ”I'm sorry, guys, but magic can be very taxing and I don't want to exhaust myself after a long day.” The sailors groan in disappointment, but still pat Hande on her shoulders, buying her one more drink. Julian hasn't bought any more drinks, because he tries not to get steaming, like Hande had expressed earlier – he doesn't want to make Hande feel uncomfortable. The music is compelling and he'd like to ask Hande to dance, but isn't sure if it's appropriate.

After a short internal debate, his reason seems to leave him, when Hande turns to look at him. Julian hasn't noticed it before, but now Hande's eyes look so beautiful, almost like the deep, blue water. His body starts to move on its own: he reaches his hand towards Hande, palm up and his mouth opens before he can think of it, ”Oh, miss Kuura... Would you like to have a dance with me?” Hande watches Julian's hand and laughs goodheartedly to his dramatic request. Julian is pretty sure Hande's thinking is pretending, but he still feels a little nervous. Finally Hande decides to save her teacher, ”Yes, I'd like that. Though, I must warn you, I haven't danced for a long time. I might be quite rusty.” Julian just chuckles and reassures his apprentice by saying that she'll be fine. Hande smiles to Julian again and gives her hand to him.

Julian places his hand on Hande's waist chastely and leads her to dance. His apprentice is a little tense at first, probably because they're first time this close to each other and because she is nervous about her dancing skills. ”Just relax, I got you,” Julian whispers to Hande, smiling to her reassuringly. Hande takes a deep breath and nods, trying to smile back, although the final result is a little lopsided. The current song is quite fast, just perfect for Julian. He guides Hande who seems to trust him enough and let the music, rhythm and Julian lead her. After a moment she relaxes and the dance feels more natural. Julian enjoys being this close to Hande, seeing her feeling comfortable in his arms. She's so vibrant, so beautiful... I haven't noticed it before. Julian tries to shake off his thoughts and have a little conversation with his apprentice, complimenting her dancing and telling how nice the evening has been. Hande smiles to him which makes him feel weak in his knees. She enjoys my company, her laughter, so full of joy. It almost makes me forget the current situation...

The dance is enchanting and Julian wants the moment to never end. The band starts to play a different song, much more speedy than the last one. This causes Julian to get an idea. He faces Hande with a little smirk on his face. ”Hande, do you trust me?” he asks. Hande looks at Julian a little hesitant, but then lets out a little laugh, ”Yes, I do trust you, Julian. But please, don't kill me.” Hande's last remark causes Julian to bark a laughter and whisper into her ear, ”I wouldn't dream of it.” He tightens his grip of Hande and leads her to the outskirts of the dance floor. Hande only gets a little warning to brace herself, before Julian lifts her, so she's now standing on a chair, and he soon follows suit. Then he rises on a longer table, taking Hande with her. She lets out a surprised yelp, but recovers soon. ”Why, Julian, are you suggesting, that we'd dance on the table?” Hande whispers her question, and Julian can hear her mischievous tone. Oh gods, she's a treasure.

Julian's smirk gets wider and he twirls Hande around before starting to dance properly. The band speeds up and patrons cheer to the duo while some of them try to save their pints. None of the things on the table gets knocked – Hande lets Julian lead her and he's done this before so he is very confident with his partner. The Rowdy Raven is filled with music, cheering and Hande's and Julian's laughter. Suddenly Hande takes the charge and dips Julian in the middle of the table, making him grab Hande for his life. Now it's Hande's turn to smirk and she leans in to whisper to Julian, ”Thank you, Julian. I didn't realise I needed this.” Julian blushes, but manages to give Hande a bashful smile, when Hande lifts him up and they continue their dance. Julian forgets everyone else and just gaze at Hande mesmerized, feeling happy for the first time for gods know how long. This intelligent, warm-hearted and beautiful person is dancing with him, smiling at him.

Oh shit. I think I have a crush.

TRANSLATIONS:

¹ ”Excuse me. Are you from Hjalle?

² ”Yes. How can you talk Hjallean, are you from there, too?”

³ ”I was born in Karnassos. My mom is from Hjalle, but she belongs to Forest people.”

My AO3

#The Arcana #Julian Devorak #fan apprentice #Hande the Apprentice #fanfic #my writing #my work #arcana eotp #Hanian

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virgil-writes · 4 years ago

Photo

ash & soot

Long before the Winters come into play, a monster stalks the Forbidden Forest that surrounds the Village. Karl Heisenberg is sent to investigate, and heads deeper into darkness to find his prey, a thorn on his side and someone just like him. (eventual Heisenberg x OC)

on AO3: chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

chapter 5 - professional secrets

SFW, we finally meet our new friend. there's some slightly spicy language and blood but nothing much. around 3.2K words.

The sudden realization that he was not alone made his skin crawl.

Heisenberg instinctively reached for his hammer, scouted his surroundings for any piece of metal he could find. The pots rattled and he heard the cauldron swing violently, the stranger protesting with a sigh of frustration as she tried to steady the cooking pot. He made a sharp turn to watch her, eyes trained on her every move as he prepared to defend himself. “I am sorry to disappoint - even the nails of this house are made of wood.” She snickered, not seeming to mind him at all, having gone back to stirring the stew, humming what he recognized as a lullaby. “Take a seat, make yourself at home.”

There was something familiar about her, perhaps the way she held herself, or the tone of her voice. She looked nothing like the hag, was taller and much younger, too, but something told him they were one and the same.

She turned around and stared openly at him with a small smile, far too friendly towards a rugged stranger who had just invaded her home and knocked together all of her cast iron pans with a slight flick of his hand. Her clothes were simple, a long linen skirt the color of moss, white buttoned shirt with gathered sleeves and embroidered flowers. A colorful apron was tied around her waist, its pockets stuffed with dried herbs and wooden utensils. Her raven hair was pulled back to keep it away from her face, though a few unruly curls insisted on framing it ever so gently. She was the very picture of a peasant villager, while looking nothing of the sort. She had the garments and sheepish expression, but none of the devotion and fear. There were calluses on her hands from working the land, freckles on her face from being under the sun day after day, and despite it all her skin looked warm, soft to the touch, promised delights he had never experienced.

Eerily beautiful, mysterious, sinister. Voice of velvet with a hint of malice. If he were ever to be lured into the embrace of a mythical creature only to be eaten alive not long after, she would be the one to do it. The prospect of such a gruesome death, for some reason, only served to pique his interest.

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit? How can I be of service, Lord Heisenberg?” There was absolute certainty in her voice, like they had spoken many a time before. It was no surprise that she knew him, of course. After all, one had but to step inside the village church to see a picture of his handsome face alongside his adorable little family. He had never seen her, however, not in the fields nor the church, not in the masses nor the harvest festivals. Surely he would remember, such striking beauty and poised demeanor that would rival any noblewoman. She far surpassed the fabled Dimitrescu daughters, and that she was still alive was evidence enough to tell him she was not seen very often. Alcina did not suffer competition.

“In need of a curative or ointment?” There was homeliness in her grace, somehow, a simplicity one would not find among finery and expensive wine. She poured herself a cup of tea as she spoke, motioned in his direction as if to offer him some. The cup was neatly stacked upon others in the cabinet when he did not take it, and she shrugged her shoulders as if disappointed. The table set for two, the second teacup put away when he refused the offer. Had she been expecting him?

Like she had heard his very thoughts, the woman pulled a chair and gestured for him to sit, moving about with little discomfort for his presence. It felt as if he was no esteemed visitor, no frightening intruder, but a frequent houseguest, someone who had visited a thousand times over and needed no coaxing or guidance to make themselves comfortable. It was strangely heartwarming, the way he felt like he could kick off his boots and sit beside her on the couch to chitchat, open the cabinets to find himself a snack. He could sit cross-legged on the woven rug and pet the dog in front of the fireplace, sit by the table to study his plans with only the crackling of the fire as background noise.

She pat his shoulder reassuringly as she crossed the room to check on the stew, her touch lingering just a second too long, hips swaying to a tune only playing inside her head. The domesticity of it all was soothing, but also infuriating. He had not come for pleasantries, to sip on tea while they laughed over the latest village gossip. He had come to bind and gag her, to drag her all the way back to a castle that would become her final resting place. Somehow, he was sure the idea of being tied and manhandled would actually please her.

“Seeking a nice massage to alleviate the pressure on those shoulders?” She continued when his silence persisted, the teacup left behind on the kitchen counter as she reached up to a shelf littered with glass bottles. Crimson painted fingernails ran along the labels to pull a flask that looked harmless enough, though his knowledge of toxins was too limited to be sure. He recognized the liquid inside it as a fragrant oil, a drop hitting the skin on the back of her hand before she gave it a good rub as if to test it.

A massage would be nice, he had to admit, decades of sibling rivalry and impending doom for being part of a cult that worshiped a gross looking blob of mold taking a toll on his soul. He could picture it, his trench coat finally sliding off his shoulders after such a stressful day, her nails scratching against his skin as she pulled his shirt over his head. She would tell him to make himself comfortable on the bed or the couch, but he’d refuse it; he hadn’t laid in a bed in years, and at this point he was afraid of trying. Instead he would hold his head in his hands as he sat forward on the dining chair, for once trying to push away the thoughts that always raced through his mind. He knew he would lose his composure as soon as her hands touched the tender spots on his shoulders, a groan and his worries escaping his lips. He figured she would listen and hum appropriate responses as he wove the tales of his woes. It was hard to picture how it would all go, what relaxation truly felt like after so many decades of stress. Maybe he could stay a little longer, take her offer, and-

What the fuck was he thinking? His own inner contradictions were driving him up the wall; her friendliness was wearing on him more than Alcina’s rudeness ever did.

Once again she shrugged when he rejected her offer, made her way to the chair he hadn’t taken and sat down with her steaming cup of tea in her hand once more. They are dangerously close now, he is still frozen in place between the dining table and the fireplace - like an idiot. He could touch her from here. He could kill her from here. She scrunches her nose when again he says nothing, smells the air before saying: “Are you sure you do not wish me to draw you that bath?”

That is just about enough to set him off. The stunt with the horse, the illusions with the creature and the hag, the tricks with the lycan heads, and now this. Heisenberg saluted her fearlessness in the face of near certain death, could appreciate the confidence that exuded from her despite being in the presence of the most powerful lord of the village. Enough, however, is enough. He closes the distance between them in a flash, footsteps too loud in the silence of the cabin, and finds that his hand fits perfectly around her pretty little neck. He can hear the teacup in her hand fall and shatter somewhere beneath them, the chair comes along for a few steps as he drags her before it falls to the ground, but she wouldn’t live long enough to clean up the mess. He has her off the floor and slams her hard against the nearest wall, satisfied with the sound her body makes as the surprise knocks the wind right out of her. Teach her to shut her fucking mouth.

He watches closely for the terror in her eyes, waits for her strained voice to beg, please, Lord Heisenberg. It always made him feel dirty when they begged, made him feel like he was no better than any of his siblings, but just this once, he will allow himself to enjoy it. He seeks terror, yet all he finds is wickedness. Even so close to her demise, with his fingers tightening against her wind pipe, she does not fear him. He opens his mouth to speak, to yell, to tell her to shut it and announce that she is dying tonight, not because he wanted to, but because she had done away with his patience. Her hand snakes its way up his chest and arm to reach his own, holding it almost lovingly, nails scratching the skin ever so softly just like he had imagined, but somehow better, so much better.

“I was expecting something more romantic over dinner,” she finds the strength to speak, her voice almost a purr. “But I do like the eagerness.” His fingers clutch her neck a little tighter. In any other situation, this would have been enough to convince him to fuck her senseless. He liked himself a feisty partner, someone who didn’t bow their head to him, a challenge at last. But not now, not when he was pissed off and tired and sweating as if it was summer outside.

“Oh, you’re not going to like it when I’m done with you,” he pauses to pull her and force her back against the wall, the boards shaking with the impact. “Sweetheart.”

“Is that a promise, my lord?” Her eyes burn with something not quite like desire, contradict the deep turquoise and calmness of her irises. The hand around her neck is bloody, glove and flesh torn where the lycan had bit him, and her tongue darts out of her mouth to get a taste. The smile she gives him makes a delicious heat pool at the bottom of his stomach, sliding down dangerously close to his navel. He is deciding between choking her to death, biting a piece of her face off or bashing her skull in, lips contorted in a wicked smile, when he feels his fingers grasp at nothing, balance lost as he topples over and hits the wall with full force. There is a hollow thud when his nose hits the wooden boards, blood dripping down onto his chin. It takes him a moment to register that she has, somehow, slipped away from him, ducked under his arm to make her way back to the bubbling pot on the fireplace. She continues to hum the stupid lullaby and treat him like a harmless peasant.

“Are you staying for dinner, my lord?” She speaks as if nothing has transpired in the past few minutes. Like he hadn’t gone through the painfully embarrassing experience of threatening her with a very noticeable and contradicting bulge in his pants, right before he lost his balance - and dignity - and broke his nose against her living room wall.

He hadn’t felt this humiliated in decades. There are no words to describe the rage that courses through his body, although the snarl he pushes through gritted teeth might be good enough indication. Heisenberg braces himself against the wall, wipes the blood off his face on the sleeve of his coat. Plan B: shove her head into the fire and then choke her.

“Oh, let me take a look at that,” is all she says when he turns around, a piece of cloth in hand as she guides him to a dining chair. There is no time for his explosiveness, for his plans to be put into motion; for reasons not at all clear to him, he can do nothing but play along. She lifts his chin with such grace that he is unsure how to feel. The beast in the forest held him with the same care. He could deal with quite a range of emotions: anger, hatred, disgust, some more anger. This nobody had ever done to him - shown him kindness, cared for him. Miranda had tried, in her own awkward way, but never again after she had deemed him a failure.

It feels good to be at a loss for words, he notices, to have choice and violence taken away from him for just a few minutes. To let himself waddle in the silence of his empty mind, a tender touch to ground him and nothing else. It feels good, but awkward, and he shuffles to find something, anything, to talk about.

“You’re the monster in the woods then?” He asks as he looks away, too busy trying to justify to himself the absurdity of the situation. Here he is, sitting in a chair that is about to give under his weight, in the middle of the woods after petting a dead horse and almost being swallowed whole by a goat-human hybrid. The woman he was sent to kill is now gently caressing his jaw with the hand that holds his chin up as if to comfort him, the other busy soaking up the blood coming out of his broken nose. The embarrassment far outweighs the pain, but there is no sign of judgment in her features. It helps.

“Yes, sir.” She answers with a proud smile. “I am a healer by trade, you see. A little knowledge of plants can go a long way, especially in such a quaint, isolated little village like yours.” she smushed his nose in as if to prove a point. “Is that the reason you have come to me, my lord?”

“Funny thing,” he begins with a chuckle and ends with a whimper as she wiggles the cartilage on his nose. “I was sent to take you back to the village as a prize to the one and only Lady Dimitrescu. That, or kill you. Although she would prefer you alive.” Heisenberg observed her closely, hoping to catch a glimpse of something other than friendliness. If she had heard of him, surely she had heard of Alcina, and the horrible things she put women like her through. “Monsters don’t usually get a reputation for mixing poultices.”

She nods calmly, too busy with her ministrations to care. “Must preserve some professional secrets, now, mustn’t we? What is that you would prefer? Alive, dead? What can I help you with?” Her question is a simple one, although it feels as if it weighs far more than it was supposed to.

“Unless you can kill a century-old monster, my darling, there is little you can do for me.” His answer is pure sarcasm, and she does not seem to care. Her head tilts slightly to the side as if she is considering her options, as if, you know, maybe she can do that. “The fog in the forest - that you?” There is no hesitation when she nods. “Overgrown stallion?” Another nod. “Eldritch abomination? Sickly hag?” A throaty hum of approval. “Not bad.”

“Would you be so kind as to let me live, my lord?” She has her back turned as she speaks, perusing a tall shelf over the couch. The bleeding in his nose has stopped, and he realizes she has slipped the torn glove off his hand without him noticing. “I would be most interested in such a prospect.” There was a touch of drama in her words that he appreciated. When she turns back around, she looks and sounds more like a person than a character out of an old romance. “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.” The woman returns with clean linens in her hand, a bottle of antiseptic and a pincushion in the shape of a pumpkin. He is unsure whether the needle and thread is meant to sew his glove or him back together.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” he makes to rise from the chair but never does, a firm hand placed on his shoulder.

“Allow me to fix that at least.” He sighed in defeat as he sat back down. It crossed his mind that he had no reason to comply, but did regardless. “And I insist you take a bowl of stew.” Her hands were back on his face before the could muster a response, more determination behind her movements this time. “This will only take a moment,” she explains, two fingers pinching the sides of his nose. A wiggle and suspicious crack later, and it was like the pain had never been there. Her hands were clean, as was his face, not a trace of blood anywhere. Quite the miracle worker, wasn’t she?

They remained quiet as she worked, his injured hand splayed against the wooden table. The burn of the antiseptic was good to keep him alert, to pull him away from his embarrassment. She expertly dabs onto the wound to cleanse it, her touches featherlight. The dog awakens from its nap with a stretch and a yawn, bounds up to him with a happy tail wag. Heisenberg pets its head with his free hand, the dog’s tongue peeking out in glee as it settled down at his feet. The shaggy yet adorable fleabag manages to distract him long enough for her to finish dressing his wound. “All good.” She announces, and he turns over to stare at his hand, expecting to see vestiges of blood and a nasty bite mark. He peeks under the bandage to find that it is merely aesthetic at this point, for there is nothing but perfectly healed, clear skin under it, a very faint half-moon scar where the infection should be. He looks at her in confusion and all she offers is a charming wink. Professional secrets.

Heisenberg spotted his hat placed neatly on the couch, and his hammer right beside it, though he did not recall how they had come to be there. He once again began to feel like himself with the weight of the hammer in his hands and the raggedy hat in its rightful place atop his head. Charismatic, glib Heisenberg, confident as all hell and twice as clever. Cold, calculating Heisenberg, who had been given an opportunity and bargaining chip and wouldn’t let his anger get the best of him. His fingers had reached for the doorknob when she poked him, a small lidded pot fastened with fabric in her hands.

“Take a left at the crossroads and I trust you will have no issues finding your way back.” She handed him the bowl with a smile, as did he in return. “I hope to see you again soon. Godspeed, Lord Heisenberg!” Were her last words as she pushed the door closed, and just like that, he found himself once again in the foggy forest, nothing behind him but trees and the sound of critters roaming the night.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x oc #virgil writes #yeeee

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jq37 · 5 years ago

Text

The Royal Report– A Crown of Candy Ep 14 Encounter in the Ice Cream Temple

We All Scream

We return to the Ice Cream Temple after the absolute bombshell that the SPF engineered Jet’s death as a way to get the Candians to her lair and gear up for the fight that that revelation obviously triggered. We get a better idea of the battlefield with the amazing Rick Perry set--like even by his standards it’s amazing, fog is involved. The party is on a ledge on one side of the room and there are huge levitating Popsicles and ice cream cones between them and a massive tower of frozen desserts which has the chocolate egg stuck in it in a little alcove.

As the fight begins, the SPF quickly cycles through all her glamours before revealing her true form, a huge, blue/purple, many-faced, many-winged, angelic type being--but angel in the, “We’re saying ‘be not afraid’ not as a formality but because we know we look scary,” sense. And with a Nat 20 initiative she goes to cast something in a cone that would have hit everyone for 8d8 damage but Rina dispels it with a clutch 5th level Counterspell (rolling exactly the DC without even adding her mod), absolutely foiling Brennan. In celebration, she finally puts the crown on Amethar tossed to her a couple of eps back.

Cumulus does some crazy monk movement to jump all the way across to the alcove with the egg. Unfortunately, the SPF immediately uses a legendary action to hit him with with a Ray of Frost for 27 damage and then gets a lair action to skewer him with an icicle, fully dropping him to death saves. The one small mercy is that Cumulus falls towards the egg, not into the mist.

Liam takes some shots at the SPF, and learns that she has both a really high AC and some kind of Mirror Image spell going to take some of her hits. He also eats the Peppermint Heart Seed the SPF returned to them, hoping it will give him flight like it did to Preston (almost jumping off the ledge to test it) but Brennan rolls on the Wild Magic Table and it instead makes the entire party Invisible.

Ruby (at Brennan’s mischievous suggestion) jumps off the edge so she’ll be in range to use Mage Hand, ties it to the end of the rope to the closest floating Popsicles (the orange one), and hangs on. In the distance, she can hear her aunts cheering for her. The SPF blasts her with some cold damage, insisting she just wants to take her somewhere safe but Ruby is having none of that.

Amethar throws some javelins which just gets rid of some of the illusions. The SPF does some more damage to Ruby.

Theo, student of Lazuli, realizes that the SPF is like a dragon sitting atop all this magical treasure but she’s not the source of the magic per se and they should be able to get the floating Popsicles to move at their command. He tells everyone and then holds his turn to see if Rina does anything crazy. Rina Thundersteps herself and Theo to the Popsicle Ruby is hanging onto and uses Winterscoop like an oar to try and move it (DC 10 Wis check w/ advantage--Brennan’s one small mercy). She gets it and yells to her guys to jump onto the other Popsicle (the red one) but they aren’t able to move it. With the rest of his held turn, Theo cast Protection From Evil and Good on Rina.

The SPF tries to blast Rina’s group with another cone attack but Rina stops it cold (ha) with another Counterspell, viably breaking Brennan.

Cumulus fails a death save. Theo takes some cold damage which he lessens with Absorb Elements. Then the SPF casts a spell on Ruby, entering her mind and saying, “You came to me in the glade. Wherever you go, I go.” And she hears a scream from Jet as the SPF begins stitching her own shadow to Ruby. (Spooky, hate that!)

Liam jumps on the red Popsicle and attacks the SPF again, getting rid of the last of her protective illusion.

Ruby swings up to where Cumulus and the egg is. She the rope to Cumulus and pushes him off the edge (Zac’s Face: *Immediate Concern*) so they can pull him up and help him. She also does an Insight check on the egg and feels that the outside is cold but there’s a deep rumbling from within.

Amethar jumps onto the red Popsicle and is finally able to move it. He gets closer to the SPF to throw some javelins and gets a hit this time but, unfortunately, as the SPF is hit, an identical wound dealing half damage appears on Ruby. Ruby yells this info to everyone else.

Theo again delays his action to wait for Rina to act. Rina Healing Word’s Cumulus both because he’s down and to boost her movement by ten (she gets that free 10 feet of Fly when she casts a spell) and she uses that movement to get within range of the egg and cast Bonfire (a cantrip) on the egg (Ruby insisting she could have done it without help). Brennan, womped thrice, needs a 12 or higher on 2d8 to damage the egg. Rina gets a 13 on the dice without having to even do any Sorcery shenanigans.

The egg cracks, releasing hot steam, the smell of cinnamon and the most ADORABLE baby dragon that imprints on Rina immediately. Rina coos that she finally has a family.”

“That is mine,” the SPF says.

“Not anymore,” Rina replies.

Ruby’s Big Day

Jon Bon nails the SPF with a throwing ax, doing half damage to Ruby again.

The SPF does a ton of damage to the red Popsicle peeps and Swifty and Gooey look ROUGH.

Cumulus (after determining that the SPF connection with Ruby will fade soon) jumps and grapples the SPF, doing a successful Stunning Strike, but the SPF uses a legendary resistance to come out of stun and then attacks him, paralyzing him and leaving him to fall.

Ruby tries to figure out if she can do something and Rina says if she trusts her and holds her action, she can do something to help. But it’s not necessary because, on his turn, Liam hits the SPF with a crossbow bolt (Ruby takes no damage as the connection has faded) and then moves the Popsicle under where Cumulus is going to land. The SPF hits Liam for 25 points of damage, taking him down to 9.

Even though she doesn’t need it to save Cumulus anymore, Ruby still delays her turn to get movement help from Rina (reluctantly). Amethar catches Cumulus out of the air before he hits the Popsicle and then does almost 50 points of damage to the SPF with Payment Day now that he’s in melee range.

Theo moves the orange Popsicle closer to where the action is happening, Misty Steps to the floating ice cream cone between his Popsicle and the other one, then tries to boomerang his sword to hit the SPF, but it doesn’t hit.

Rina (slipping into a very Fig manner of speech for a second) asks Ruby, “You wanna go for a ride?” Ruby accepts and Rina (after telling Cinnamon--the newly christened dragon--to fly over to her when he has a chance) Thundersteps herself and Ruby over to the very crowded orange Popsicle with the SPF. She also casts Create Bonfire on the SPF which does double damage--24.

And Ruby decides to take her held turn.

She casts Green Flame Blade on Flickerish--Jet’s sword--and says, “For Jet, bitch.”

Yak flies over to give her advantage (and make this as cinematic as possible).

Nat 20 bay-bee!

So she’s getting extra dice from Green Flame Blade, Rogue Sneak Attack, Flickerish’s Superiority Dice, and the Nat 20. Siobhan is rolling a DM number of dice here and you truly love to see it.

Brennan, sensing that, writes a number on a folded piece of paper and hands it to her. The amount of HP the SPF has left. Then he has her roll in the Box of Doom. She lets those colorful dice fly and counts them up--while Brennan looks on with increasing consternation in the background.

59.

She opens the piece of paper.

52!

Ruby lands graceful, balancing with her circus training, shadow of Jet being cast tall on the wall of the cavern.

“Can’t you come home with me?” asks the SPF.

“Why don’t you come home with me?”

Ruby thrusts the sword forward and the SPF (who Brennan says was literally just about to use her 9th level spell slot to cast Wish and restore all her HP) is no more.

Cold Shoulder

Fight over, the mist begins to clear. They see the floor of the cavern is just magical items on magical items and Swifty is stoked as hell. The magic of this place goes from painfully freezing cold and sickly sweet to the good kind of crisp cold and welcoming availability.

Ruby in her ear hears 4 voices:

“Proud of you, kid.”

“You make it look effortless. I am so proud.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t know where we’re going next. It was nice to be here, but we’re gonna go somewhere we don’t know, but we’re gonna go there together.”

“I was fourth in line and I didn’t know that we were all gonna say something. They didn’t tell me.”

“Look after her please,” Ruby says.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else.”

Then she feels the embrace of her shadow and it returns to its place.

(“I love you so much. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”)

Rina says to Ruby that she could have finished off the SPF herself but she wanted to let her have the killing blow because it clearly meant a lot to her. She doesn’t know if that will mean anything to her now and she feels that maybe she’s wasting her time continually trying to reach out to her but maybe, someday, it will get through to her.

Rina’s guys escort her away and she can tell that Gooey has something on her mind. Rina gives her permission to speak freely and Gooey (with Swifty and Jon Bon chiming in) basically says, “Fuck the Candians. They treat you like shit. We’re your real family. You’re gonna be a dope ass queen.”

“You know, it’s funny. That’s the first time someone has called me queen and it hasn’t felt uncomfortable. It actually felt really good.”

Ruby takes another moment of silence for Jet. Theo says that it was always Jet’s dream to be fighting with and for the common people which is Rina’s whole thing. They should be rallying behind her. Ruby and Amethar never even wanted to rule--now he gets to be a warrior again like he wanted. Amethar shoots back with his perspective on the last 4 weeks: his daughter died, he died twice, he decided he was gonna finally man up and bam, it turns out he’s not even king anymore. So excuse him for not being the most gung ho person in the world.

Theo says that he trusts that Amethar is on board but Rina doesn’t know him. From her POV, this is just unprovoked shunning.

“You have two living daughters.”

Ruby goes to talk to Rina and, on a Nat 20 Insight, sees that all her guys are fully ready to remorselessly kill her if given the order. Still, she presses on, laying out her cards: Her entire worldview has imploded in a matter of weeks. Her twin sister just died. She’s going through so much and now this too? She can’t accept Rina as both her sister and her queen. She has to pick one.

“I understand that you lost everything,” Rina says, “but I was born with nothing.” She says that she was actually very excited to meet Ruby and have a sister and finally not be alone anymore, tears cracking through her cold facade for a moment. But then she gathers herself.

“If I must choose, then I choose to be your queen.”

“Very well.”

Rina and her crew exit the Temple and start down the mountain. Everyone except for Liam follows them. Liam goes to check on the hoard and rolls a 24 Investigation check. At the base of the tower he sees an old lair with ancient chocolate eggshells. He knows this is the dark space from his dreams and he knows this was once a dragon lair. At the center of the nest (which is still somehow warm), there’s a little ember that glows brighter as he approaches. It grows red and bright, filling his vision, a hand reaches out, grabs his throat and pulls and we end the ep!

Medal of Honor

Killing a god should be enough to get anyone this spot.

But killing a god with only a 7 point margin on a Nat 20 in order to avenger your sister’s death with her own sword a turn before said god was about to down a Full Restore?

Ooh, man. All hail Princess Ruby Rocks baby!

Things I’m Concerned About

OK, I mentioned last week I was worried about Rina doing a Cat's in the Cradle but I said I’d elaborate later and what I feared seems to be materializing so I’m going to talk about it now. Rina clearly had a certain vision of what she wanted this family reunion to look like and, for valid reasons, it’s not happening that way. They’re not really bonding. So what this ends up being is them relying on her in battle but brushing her off socially--at least that’s what it looks like from her POV. And like, she’s been around for like 2 days so it’s kind of unreasonable for her to expect them to be fully on board already but I see where she’s coming from. If I grew up as basically a Dickensian orphan and a princess told me a sob story (however valid) I wouldn’t be impressed. It would be a complicated situation even without a war happening in the background. On top of that, Rina is surrounded by Yes-Men which concerned me from the start when Gooey pulled her aside that first time. The last time we had the potential for serious party conflict in D20 (not counting Bloodkeep because I maintain that, despite the setup and Brennan’s best efforts, that was never going to happen) was the Kingston/Pete situation and that ended up fizzling out but idk man. That conversation Rina had about how it felt kinda nice to be called queen? That def set off some alarm bells in my head. I don’t know enough about GoT to know if this is a totally valid statement but when she got the dragon and then that convo happened I was like...hmm...how does Dany’s story end again?

Lol also, whatever the heck is going on with Liam and the dragon. Really this should be first but, I’m gonna be real, the Rina thing was so much that I fully forgot this was a thing that also happened.

I’m concerned about whatever happens next ep that was so bad they’ve been talking about it for ages. Feeling pretty trepid about that my guys.

We haven’t heard from Annabelle and Primsy in a while and that doesn’t necessarily mean anything bad but...hmm...

Five A Few More Things

Ah yes, the return of the, “Why can’t a butterscotch bird help me perform first aid?” argument. “Are you telling me a bird can’t save someone’s life?”

“Give me the child.” Brennan, I know I say this a lot but if anything happens to Cinnamon...a single thing...a solitary hitpoint...Brennan…

There's a bit where Cumulus rolls like a 9 and Ally goes, “Can he get advantage from the egg?” And Siobhan makes a face like, “Fully what?” but then a second later is like, “That’s a great question,” totally straight-faced and it’s so funny.

I wonder if Rina’s peeps feel the way they do about the whole party? Because Theo is honestly (in Murph’s words) also one of her goons practically and Cumulus pledged the orders’ services to her. You’d think they’d get consideration.

When Cinnamon gives Rina a Help action she goes, “I’ve never gotten Help action before,” and I understand what she meant but also, lol, she gets Help actions like every turn from her guys.

“Don’t come after my distant cousin!”

Very happy that if combat is happening in our story eps we’re getting some story in our combat eps. Getting a significant chunk of immediate aftermath is very cool and something I often wished for in the other main seasons.

FYI: Celestial is Liam’s Greater Favored Enemy.

Brennan really does love to undercut the tenseness of the situations of his dark world by reminding us all that it’s also deeply stupid and made of candy and I think that’s great.

One More Thing

Two big fandom art things are happening right now that I want to shout out:

(1) Until the 24th, D20 is accepting CoC fanart for their finale montage. The email is [email protected] and the details are on their Twitter.

(2) A fan run event is also happening--as big bang (which is a fanfic-visual art team-up thing that I’m learning about for the first time but seems really cool). Info for that is here.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #a crown of candy #a crown of candy spoilers #the royal report

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funky-boat-zone · 4 years ago

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the lighthouse chronicles: part 10/10

big birthday bash

how often do sapient vehicles celebrate their birthdays anyway? depending on how they process time, having their birthday/build date celebration every year could get excessive/tiring.

in one episode, there’s a really loud audio glitch that scared the shit out of me the first time i heard it. the problem is that i can’t remember what episode it was, just that it happened in a scene involving zorran (because of course it did)

top hat’s voice sounds really off fsr

ffs otis, you’re a grown adult. quit being so pouty to the literal child who gave away the surprise by accident.

never thought i’d say this, but i genuinely feel really bad for ten cents here. he’s just a kid who just made a mistake, and what do top hat and otis (adults) do? top hat rats him out to sunshine, and otis acts all passive aggressive towards him.

and even sunshine gets mad at him and says that they may as well just cancel the party!

“it’s okay, you can throw me a surprise party another time” or you could at least pretend to be surprised and try to enjoy the party because it’s the mature thing to do, otis?

“what do you want me to do, sink myself?” “not a bad idea” hey sunshine, what the fuck

the other tugs (seemingly) only forgive him because captain star told them to

and so the party happens and all is well except for the fact that no one apologizes to ten cents for being so awful to him over an honest mistake

stop the music

it’s a whole episode of singing. help

and yes, this is the episode where zorran raps

i am going to outlaw the snugboat harbor song fest

grampus sinking into the water and going “blblblblbl” is a mood

zorran no. zorran please don’t do it, i know you��re evil or sth but-

i thought you were better than this, zorran

“do you want to be famous?” “you mean i’m not already?”

unfortunately, this episode is where i got my headcanon that top hat can sing. i sincerely apologize

grampus dismisses top hat’s singing when he’s the only boat who can remotely carry a tune

sunshine’s voice is at its absolute most grating in this scene jfc

“i’ll never be ready for the song fest :(” (triumphant music playing in the bg)

hooray, “work together” or something, no moral is worth a whole episode of singing

let’s wing it

oh no, vegetable puns

zak’s voice is almost as cursed as zip’s

i never want to hear zorran say “mayonnaise” in any context for any reason ever again

why do the boats know what salad dressing is?

big stack, quit singing

“wish i could help” i appreciate the sentiment izzy, but you are a steam tramper, not a tug, and your dream of helping with the ocean liner can never be

and so we end on a vegetable pun

no strings attached

another music-themed episode?? oh no

another log jam?

are tugboats an instrument?

no patrick, tugboats are not an instrument

coast guard boats are not an instrument either

top hat using his horn/whistle to play the first few notes of the theme song implies that he’s aware of the fourth wall

ten cents, don’t bother cappy. he has important coast guard stuff to do

dammit ten cents, you pulled a coast guard vessel away from his job. people could die

love how ten cents talks abt cappy’s whistle and cappy is represented by a completely different boat.

the rhyming brings up memories of miller-era thomas. and that’s not a compliment

the song sounds like sth out of an obscure 16-bit game that’s only remembered for one song and only because that song was used in a meme

guilty gull

how rich are salty’s parents to get him a working, driveable toy car for his birthday?

you know an episode’s gonna be interesting when it starts with zug getting blamed for something he says he didn’t do

again with the fire barge! i’m banning zip and zug from having any contact with fire barges unless it’s an emergency

do you think billy’s aware that the tugs only really talk to him when they need him for arson?

i think he is, and he’s cool about it. billy, you deserve better. get some friends who see you for more than your skill at arson

f in the chat for zug, the snugboat harbor scapegoat

i know that it’s just tradition to refer to ships as she/her, but in the context of this show it sounds like the stuck tanker is sapient and the tugs are going to destroy her anyway

sl!zug deserves better 2k21

bivalve blues

sunshine’s voice sounds really strained fsr

“wanna hear my new riddle?” “not now. bye” same, ten cents. same

sad boat hours

honestly ten cents has every right to be sad and upset after the events of “big birthday bash”

that’s not why he’s sad though, he’s upset bc he feels unappreciated or sth

a fire?? that escalated quickly, holy shit

love how bluenose is just sitting in the background with no one noticing/acknowledging him as ten cents takes the fuel barge

also that split second of bluenose twitching/shaking at the end

honestly i’m more interested in whatever the hell’s going on with him

i’m sad because they had to incorporate and re-dub that emotional ending scene from “munitions”

ten cents gets cheered up, the other tugs appreciate him, sunshine finally tells him her riddle, and bluenose is presumably scarred for life because this the last episode and we never see him again after this.

#the lighthouse chronicles #shitpost #ask to tag #reaction tag

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number-one-micoverse-fan · 4 years ago

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FebuWhump Day 12: “Who are you?”

I straight up am not happy with the way this one turned out. It just didn’t come out the way I wanted it to and it feel messy and there’s no ending because it was getting too long. I think I’m losing steam, fellas...

Warnings: self harm, lots of swearing, child abuse

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“You doing all right, Milo? You’ve been awful quiet these last few days.” Dan sets Milo’s dinner in front of him and goes back to the stove to fill his own.

Milo stares into his food and pushes it around with his fork. He makes no move to eat and doesn’t look up when Dan sits down across from him.

“Milo?”

Still no answer.

“Did something happen at school?”

Nothing.

“Are you hurt?” Dan sets his fork down in concern, leans over to touch Milo only to have the boy flinch at the brush of his fingertips, “Milo…?”

Milo hunches his shoulders, bunches his hoodie around himself, and glances at Dan through his bangs. It takes Dan a second to realize that the skin around Milo’s eye is getting puffy and dark, a bruise forming near the bridge of his nose and down his cheek.

“Milo…what happened…?”

There’s a sniffle, a whimper as tears well into Milo’s eyes, his knuckles white as he crushes the fabric of his hoodie in his fists. His words are so quiet, to soft and hoarse, that Dan almost can’t hear him,

“Jake…Jake hit me…”

Dan feels like the world has stopped turning.

Shock renders him immobile. It wipes his mind blank, a lightning strike to the central hard drive of his own mind, frying everything from his memory to his motor functions. His lungs seize, his throat closes, his mouth is dry, and his heart stops. Numbness sweeps over his nerves, followed quickly by a cold, prickling horror and a stabbing burn of denial.

“Jake?” He says and his voice is hollow and his tongue is heavy, “Jake? Hit you? He…he would never…Milo, he would never—“

“He did!” Milo hiccups, trying hide deeper in his hoodie, “I was j-just trying to—I was talking to him about school and he—he got mad! And told me to shut up and go—go away!”

Heat is sitting thickly at the base of Dan’s throat. Anger and confusion battle in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He stands, chair scraping the floor, and marches out of the kitchen towards the stairs. He knows Milo will follow him and he wants to tell him not to but Dan doesn’t trust his voice to be kind and steady right now. Jake doesn’t hit people, not anymore, and he certainly would never ever hit Milo, no matter how much the kid bothered him.

Jake’s bedroom door is locked but Dan’s never let a simple lock stop him. He twists the handle until he wrenches it loose from the frame and shoves the door open with a bang. He’ll worry about repairing it later.

Jake is sitting on the edge of the open window, blowing cigarette smoke into the chilly autumn air. He turns his head with a lazy sort of arrogance to look at Dan and sneers. There’s something about the way he’s sitting that doesn’t look like Jake at all, slouching and languid, like his limbs are all the wrong size. His shirt is open, buttons undone to expose his dangerously skinny chest, rib bones poking out like sunken piano keys, and there’s nothing on his feet, the old pair of jeans he’s in frayed at the hems.

“Jacob,” Dan says, trying to keep his voice level, the anger he’s keeping at bay seeping into his mouth and burning his tongue, “Milo said you hit him. Is—please tell me—it’s not true, right? You didn’t hit him. Right?”

The awful sneer on Jake’s face stretches, showing too many teeth, “So what if I did?” And even the cadence of his voice sounds wrong, “The brat was annoying me and couldn’t take a hint. He needed to be taught a lesson. Could use a few more, really.”

Dan hears Milo flinch in the doorway and the anger inside him build ferociously, “What the hell is wrong with you!? Are you—you’re—are you drinking again!? Where did this come from!?”

“Mmm, I dunno, Fuller,” Jake spits his name like a curse as he swivels on the window sill, swinging his legs around to stand up, “Maybe J—I’m finally showing my true colors. Nothing better than a bastard from a whole family of rotten, good-for-nothing bastards. Or maybe…” He blows out another cloud of smoke and is giving Dan a look like he’s challenging him to a fight “…you’d like to take a wild guess…Daniel Fuller.”

Dread suddenly tempers Dan’s boiling rage and he swallows the lump in his throat. Because it’s occured to him that he knows Jake better than anybody and Jake—no matter how drunk or angry and upset he is—would never talk like this. He would never hit Milo, he would never smoke, and he would never mention his sordid family history so casually. Dan narrows his eyes, hands curling into fists,

“Who are you?”

Jake laughs, a foreign and bitter noise that makes the air sour, “Now you’re getting it! Try thinking juuussstttt a little bit ha—hrngk!” He stiffens, convulses once, and his stance changes abruptly from sneering contempt to horrified panic, “Help me! I can’t make him leave! He’s—“ Jake cuts off again, body twitching, and then that bitter growl is back, “Don’t pay attention to the peanut gallery, Fuller. He’s just watching. This is between you and me…for now.”

“Who are you!?” Milo shouts from the doorway, “Get out of my dad! Give him back his body!”

“Shut up!” Not-Jake snarls, “I’ll deal with you later, brat! Right now, the grown ups are talking.” His gaze flicks back to Dan who is growing more and more terrified as realization begins to dawn on him. Something about it must show on his face, because Not-Jake laughs at him again, “Come oooonnn, Fuller, put the pieces together. I know we didn’t talk that much but my feelings will be so hurt if you’ve forgotten me…”

“Aaron…” Dan’s mouth is dry, “But…what…?”

“I’m dead, Danny-boy!” Aaron shouts and for the second the lights flicker and his eyes are burning red and there’s something writhing under Jake’s skin, “D-E-A-D! Dead! And none of you even knew! Mom didn’t bother to share that little bit of info! Not that she could anyway because somebody vanished and didn’t even leave us a forwarding address! Jacob!”

“Aaron, get out of Jake’s body! Now!”

“Make me!” Aaron taunts back and when Dan takes a step forward, Aaron presses the cherry of his cigarette into Jake’s bare chest, “Oopsie~” There’s that split second of convulsing and then Jake is screaming. He stumbles backwards and hits the wall, legs trembling, before his scream is cut off with another twitch and Aaron takes over again. He takes the cigarette away with a nasty grin and flicks the dead butt out the window,

“Careful, Fuller, don’t wanna hurt—GET OUT OF ME! GET OUT! GET OU—Shut up!.” Aaron snarls and his eyes burn red again for a moment.

Milo is sniffling in the background and Dan wants to tell him to go hide, to go away so he doesn’t witness this, but he doesn’t want to take his eyes off Aaron.

“What do you want?”

“Just visiting family,” Aaron says with a horrible purr, “Just want Jake to know exactly what it was like after he left, what happened to me when mom had no one else to take her shit out on.” He undoes the belt on Jake’s pants, slides it through the loops, and inspects it, “So here’s the game we’re gonna play, Fuller,” Aaron snaps the belt between his hands a couple times, testing its strength,

“I’m gonna make Jake suffer and you’re gonna watch and we’ll see who gives in f—ON’T DO THIS! AARON, PLEASE! I’M SORRY I DIDN’T KNOW! WE DON’T HAVE TO D—I told you to be quiet!”

Dan charges.

He slams into Jake’s body, pins him against the wall, one hand holding Jake’s wrists above his head and the other pressed loosely around his throat. Dan’s seething, partially out of rage and partially out of fear, his heart hammering in his chest, beating so hard he swears he can feel it pressing against his ribs.

Aaron’s chuckling darkly, looking up at him with a wicked sneer of triumph, “You wanna hurt me, Fuller? You wanna beat me up? Go ahead. Jake can take it. Trust me, I kn—“ The body under Dan’s grip shudders violently and then it’s Jake, the real Jake, pleading up at Dan with tears in his eyes, “Dan, oh gh-god, Dan you gotta stop him! Please! Just—tie me up or—or kill me! Do something! Please!” Another convulsion and Aaron is back in control, “Begging like the coward he is! Fucker! I’ll wreck your life, Jake! I’ll make you wish you were dead!”

“DAN PLEASE!” Jake screams the words, banging his head against the wall, begging with everything he has, “He’ll hurt Milo, please, I d-don’t want to—I don’t—please, don’t let him—Dan, please!”

And Dan feels his heart break into a million pieces as he stands there, pinning his best friend to the wall, with no idea what he should do.

#whump2021 collection #jake #dan #milo #fan fiction #angst

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indecisive-v · 4 years ago

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NINJAMUFFIN DOING ANOTHER AMA ON TWITTER, HERE'S MORE SHIT FOR YA! keep in mind i'm just sharing the funkin related stuff, though i am including WAAAAY more than what i shared before 👍 go check out ninja's twitter profile for questions about stuff like ritz! questions in blue, answers in orange. if yall don't wanna read everything i MIGHT make a version of this post where i replace the answers with my own summaries of em (and if the questions are long, those too)

and here's a link to the ama tweet itself! dunno if it's still goin

Q: I figure the answer will be yes but do you have more plans to implement more guest appearances from people in the newgrounds community into FNF? Or are you all gunna focus on OG lore and stuff going forward

A: for guest appearances, I think we have always seen it as getting a healthy mix of both. PERSONALLY I'd like to lean towards having more OG stuff than guest stuff, BUT it's all a matter of what other boys think of that as well. I'm not the sole person working on game!

Q: Are you gonna release the full FNF game or are you gonna be releasing week after week? Like, are you gonna release week 8 or are we gonna wait some years until The Full Ass Game comes out?

A: Release plan for FNF right now is a few more updates or whatev to the 'demo' we have out right now, and then a long silence of probably no updates whatsoever until the full game is done (which will likely be a few years). That's partly why we made kickstarter for game.

Q: Hey so like, how much will Fnf cost after it's finished? And when will you ask the supporters what they want the game on?

A: It's all subject to change, but right now it prob gonna be standard 15-25$ lil steam indie game.

We will ask Kickstarter pledgers and whatnot what they want the game on SUPER close to when its released, to keep options open if we get onto anything like a console people want.

Q: 1. how was your day

2. are you releasing a week 8 song early like week 7, or are you goin full lockdown

A: I am doing GOOD today, and I think recently I've been good in general.

up to the mood, but so far we doing good about not having anything leak or whatev, so I think it'd be fun to have update come out with people not knowing what to expect at all. Build dat intrigue

Q: Will fnf ever get official plushies?? Seems like an untapped market

A: FNF plushies will prob happen some point, we have a lot of current merch stuff on our plates already though! (Mostly kickstarter type stuff, shirts, pins, posters, and all the physical OST stuff) Its a lot to sort out, but in time more and more stuff will happen. We r jus 4 boys!

Q: did you ever expect your game to blow up as it did? what was your first reaction to seeing it become super popular

A: FNF never had a humble moment, literally day 1 before the prototype even came out, the vid on twitter had like 5K likes overnight. Then when ludum dare version came out, it got 5K likes again, like it wasnt just a fluke. Was crazy, and def felt like somethin was different wit FNF

Q: Do you plan on getting other people to come in to help with the music? That seems like a lot of work to dump on one person, what with the erect mode and whatnot.

I guess the question could apply to all aspects of development. Will you be bringing on more people to help?

A: We definitely are getting help from other people. We are always keeping an eye on people for various different things. In terms of programming, already I've gotten 2 people (MtH and Geokureli) to help with certain Week 7 stuff (charting/polish, and loading stuff). Shit like dat

Q: Oh, also, will the Steam version be Workshop compatible? That'd really help streamline the process of downloading mods.

A: Steam version of FNF will likely NOT be Steam workshop compatible, because we want all the mods to NOT be spread out through different places. There WILL be modding support that is as streamlined as Steam workshop though. Mainly for non-steam versions of the game!

Q: Are there any chances that the game will have a physical release? Also any updates on a switch port? I remember one of you guys talking/joking about it.

A: Not impossible for FNF to get a physical release. We would want to see how far we could go with it though. I think it'd be super easy to do something wit people like LimitedRun games or whatev, but I think stuff like that can only go so far. I wanna see Funkin in mf Walmart!!!!!!

not that LimitedRun isn't going to be an option! Just we consider and pursue many different things! FNF release is years away, so we have time to think about everything. Whole mindset can be different just a few months from now.

Q: Out of curiosity, how are you dealing with all the popularity? It blew up so fast id barely be able to handle it if I was in your shoes.

A: The only way I've been able to handle it is having the other boys on the crew and being able to talk to them about all the overwhelmingness.

Part of it feels very lonesome, feels like NO ONE can come close to comprehending exactly how I'm feeling, except them. also other PALS!!!

Q: Do you own any of the bootleg FNF merchandise? Like any bootleg plushies or anything?

A: i dont, i genuinely think they r a waste of money, and I know any bootleg shit that gets made, we can prob go about and make it, and make it 100x cooler because we actually put effort into shit. bootleg shit just in it for the coin, so they aint gettin that from me

Q: How did you go about getting in contact with sr pelo for skid and pumps vocals?

A: Pelo i think was familiar and pals wit PhantomArcade a bit thru various Newgrounds things and collabs and whatnot.

pelo retweeted the first OG FNF posts first ever, and brought a LOT of attention to it. to pay him back, we put skid and pump in game! ask dave for more info prob

Q: what's the plan for having the full ass game open source if it's gonna cost money? couldn't people just download the source and compile the game for free?

A: when FNF is fully released, the full source code will be released as well.

the game will be DRM free so it will be way easier for people to redistribute the released/offical .exe instead of compiling it, so that's not the issue anyways. people will pay for things if they like it

Q: What are the chances of it getting on consoles like switch or Playstation, ps5 would definitely be my preferred way to play

A: it'd be a matter of hiring someone to build out backend stuff for those specific consoles. someone who knows their way around all the wacky code stuff, AND knows console hardware stuff. Then its just a matter of hittin up those console manufacturers (Sony, Microsoft, or Nintendo)

the CLOSEST one is SWITCH. pretty much all of that backend is already made, so it just a matter of gettin all that access and shit.

i think in any case though, there's a lot of NDA stuff required, i dunno how much we'd be able to talk about it even IF we get that stuf sorted

Q: any ideas of releasing it on epic store or another platform?

A: Right now, the only thing that is 100% confirmed and WILL happen is a Steam version, itchio version, and mobile versions on respective app stores. Other storefronts aren't out of the picture though, but we don't want to spread ourselves too thin with it.

Q: Will you continue using HaxeFlixel to make the rest of FNF?

A: yes, because it is what I'm the most technically proficient in, and generally is VERY flexible. just a matter of ME becoming a better coder. It's ALL open source, so if I need something done a certain way, either I can do it, or we can hire someone to do it.

Q: have you seen game theory's videos on your game yet and if so, what do you think about them? (not talking about his predictions because i dont want spoilers. i like mystery)

A: it is always good silly fun to watch the Game Theory vids about Funkin with some pals, and see what matpat thinks of the game. i lov the vids, but wish he used my face less! Or at least used a cuter pic of me like this one!!

Q: Ok so: What does the future of FNF look like to you?

A: future of FNF is a rhythm game that not only exceeds every expectation that people have of it, but subverts most expectations and conventions as well.

Q: Do you plan on retouching on older weeks once the game is fully out? Like reanimating sprites, redoing some charting, updating the background, etc

A: retouching and probably overhauling certain aspects is almost definitely gonna happen. Everything is fluid and can be changed (and should be changed when necessary). i dont think anything should be too attached to, especially this early on in development

Q: I honestly do not care if the answer to this is vague as hell to keep surprises and shit lol but… Since Week 7 was the closest we’ll get to a playable girlfriend (still bf controlling tho), do you have plans to make girlfriend playable in spin-off things or just freeplay?

A: wouldnt be out of the picture for a playable GF, i don't think we've had some hard thing AGAINST it. just a matter of what we want out of the game, and what sort of story or whatev we could do with that concept

Q: How do BF and GF manage to meet famous newgrounds characters (such as pico, tankman and the others to come) like is this all in one universe/ timeline or are they being brought in?

A: i think they are all just there existing. i think there's a lot of wacky things in other media that try to justify crossovers, like MULTIVERSE bullshit or TIMELINE shit, but i dunno, its like subspace emissary. Captain Falcon and Olimar from Pikmin just hang out. Shit like dat

disclaimer that all lore shit is in phantomarcade head pretty much and maybe there is wacky dimensions or somethin

Q: Will the game have dlc?

A: its not too unlikely that we'd have expansions of some sort, but i mean right now we plan on packing in as much as we can into base game, and trying to make that as pure as possible.

if there is ANY dlc, i would personally want it to be 100% free updates

Q: How did you meet Phantom Arcade, Kawai Sprite, and EvilSker? And what do you think about the community and its controversies?

A: me and phantomarcade been fukin around NG for years so years and years ago we naturally crossed paths and became pals

about 2 years ago i found kawaisprites music on NG, and started talkin wit him, made Ritz wit him and we fell in lov

and evilsk8r i met cuz of FNF!!!

quik elaborate on evilsk8r, wanted artist for gamejam FNF was for (ludum dare), and OG person i asked wasnt available, so he referred me to evilsk8r, who I have never met or talked to before ever.

#friday night funkin #fnf #fridaynightfunkin

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dianapana · 5 years ago

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SasuHina Month 2020- Day 9

Prompt-Prolonged Embraces

The exam had been awful; the questions were formulated in such a way that they were confusing to begin with but the subjects they asked about were also very difficult and hard to cover in 50 words. They had over 30 questions and barely an hour and half to finish, much like her, everyone else walked out of the room with their head bowed looking at the ground and doing everything in their power not to catch someone’s eye in case that person thought to strike up a conversation about said exam. They were also all moving in slow motion and zombie-like. The teacher had been cruel, Hinata had attended all classes, did all the extra work and studied as much as she could. Last night as she was looking over everything one last time, she felt hopeful and sure of her knowledge. When Ino quizzed her, she made no errors. But she barely had time to think so she wrote the first thing to come to mind; she didn’t even have time to look over everything before handing in the exam. Thankfully this had been her last exam this semester, this year and this University experience. Ino finished her exams two days ago and she wanted to go out and celebrate, but Hinata wanted to go home and take a 10-hour nap, wake up eat and then go back to sleep.

“I got out. Not 1 word abt it.” Hinata texted Ino and the blonde replied almost immediately witch a bunch of sad emojis.

Her first stop before going to the apartment and cry a little to let out her frustration and make herself better, was a fast food restaurant, she needed food and fast; thus the location. There was only one person in front of her so she was able to order her sub pretty fast. She sat herself at one of the empty tabled to eat half of it in a hurry. The other half she packed and put in her bag; she’d keep that one for later to eat after waking up.

Ino was in the living room on the sofa applying some more lipstick when Hinata walked in. Ino looked at her with sympathy and gave her a big hug.

“I’m sorry it sucked.” The blonde said but didn’t address more the topic because she knew Hinata didn’t really want to talk about it “What are you gonna do? Do you want to come with me and Sakura to a party?”

Hinata only shook her head. “I’ll go party with you this weekend, now I just want to sleep and forget everything I learned” Ino laughed

“Ok babe, but if you change your mind just shoot me a text and I’ll let you know where I am” The blonde said as she checked her reflection one more time before picking up her fanny pack and putting it around her waist. “Whoever decided to bring these back into fashion was a genius. I have my phone, money and keys in there and I won’t have to worry about losing my clutch or whatever the whole time” Ino’s gratefulness to the fanny-pack-Gods has been something she expressed whenever she went out in the past year.

Hinata went to the fridge and put the remaining half of the sub before kissing Ino’s cheek and dragging herself up the stairs. Before sleeping she decided to take a bath and relax. The tub filled slowly with hot water and she even decided to use one of her citrus bath bombs and some lemon oils. Before stepping into the water, she went to fetch her phone and played some music in the background. The moment she was fully undressed and in the water her muscles started to relax. Her brain started to wander; how she wished Sasuke was there, he would be able to distract so easily. Her body was indeed starting to loosen up but her brain was still overthinking everything about the exam from her actual answers, to how she wrote, wondering if the teacher could even read her scribbles at all especially since she rushed so much. She wrote her name right…?

Shushing her thoughts, she started to wash her body and hair slowly but even as she was rinsing her hair for the second time her brain was still spinning in circles. The bath didn’t seem to help so she got out of it much faster than she wanted. Dressing in her most comfortable pj which were a pair of loose shorts and one of Sasuke’s t-shirts she went to bed after drying her hair for a while; it was still damp but she was too tired to care. She almost wanted to force herself to cry a little because she always felt better after crying but no tears came so she did the next best thing, closed her eyes and thought of Sasuke; of his soft hair under her fingertips, his beautiful eyes when he looked at her, his soft lips as they traced her neck. She fell asleep with Sasuke on her mind and her mind gripped onto that thought and continued it into her dream.

In her dream they were having a panic, they just finished eating and were laying down on the blanket looking at the sky, pointing at clouds and saying what they looked like. She was just pointing to a cat folding origami when Sasuke pulled her closer and started kissing her neck. He breathed her in and hugged her close.

“I missed you so much” Her brain was still half-asleep but she was certain that the voice was real, as were the arms that were holding her close. Hinata opened her eyes wide only to see Sasuke looking down at her; he was still in his uniform. The moment their eyes met she started crying and pulling him as close as she could; her arms were around his neck her legs around his waist; if she could she would live in his embrace.

“I missed you too” she said still crying. She hadn’t seen him in about 4 days, he had been really busy and couldn’t skype; but she hadn’t touched him in over 7 months. Sasuke was a solder in the army and had been deployed for almost 2 years now. He returned for a few weeks when he had been injured 7 months ago but that hadn’t been nearly enough time together.

“How long are you back for?” His deployment only ended in another 3 months as far as Hinata knew. “Oh my God are you hurt again?” She asked and pulled away from him softly and looked at him as he was lying on her bed, he seemed fine.

“I’m not hurt” He told her with a smile and ran his hand over her upper arm. “Things worked faster than then we thought and most of us were sent home. Only a couple people higher in rank had to stay till the end.”

Hinata looked at him for a second. “So…you’re home…for good?” Her voice was trembling.

“Yes. At least until the next deployment which shouldn’t be very soon” His smile was blinding. Her tears were pouring again. Sasuke was on his back on the bed and she crawled on top of him; almost instantly his arms curled around her. They stood there embracing for a really long time. Sasuke was really tired after his journey and Hinata just wanted to hold him close and make sure he was real.

“I’m going to take a shower and change ok?” He asked, his voice was lower and he sounded sleepy. Hinata got up from him and allowed him to go to the bathroom. While he was showering, she went downstairs to the kitchen, she was sure Sasuke was hungry and the only food they had was her half sub which was nearly not enough for both of them. So, she put some water and rice to cook and, in another pan, fried some chicken breasts. The chicken was done quite fast and the rice was still being cooked so she decided to make a sauce; she cut some tomatoes, onions, peppers and carrots and put them into a pan with some salt, garlic, tomatoes sauce and soy sauce. As she was stirring softly two strong arms came from behind and hugged her.

Neither of them said anything; it was common for Hinata to cook while Sasuke was embracing her softly, his head on her shoulder. The rice was cooked so she stopped that burner but the sauce needed a bit more time which was fine since the rice needed to cool off and steam for another 5-10 minutes to be fluffy. The veggie sauce was done too and she turned off the last burner and took a step back into Sasuke. He took one as well and loosened his embrace just enough so she had space to turn around and hug him back.

“Welcome back; I just realized I didn’t even say that” Hinata said as she ran her hands thought his hair, it was longer than last time he was home but just as soft.

“I’m home” He whispered into her neck and kissed the skin just above her collar bone. They didn’t mover for a couple minutes before Sasuke’s stomach started making sounds.

“I think you’re hungry” Hinata said amused. It was amazing how Sasuke made everything better in her world, the exam and her bad mood felt like they had happened ages ago. All she could remember, all that mattered were Sasuke’s hugs. Hinata filled two cups with water while Sasuke fixed 2 plates for them to eat.

“You finished your exams, today right?” Sasuke asked between chewing.

Hinata nodded “Yes, it’s finally over”

“We should celebrate this weekend, you finished University” Sasuke was 3 years older than her; but she was also almost 2 years older than most of her peers; instead of going to Uni right after high school Hinata had to stay back due to some family issues. Sasuke did more courses than normal people for 3 semesters so instead of 4 years he finished University in 2 after which he went directly into the army. Hinata’s dad was also in the army and that’s how they met; during the first event Sasuke attended. They started dating about 2 months after; Hinata was a senior in high school and Sasuke had just joined. (They were 19 and 22 at the time; now they are 25 and 28)

“Of course, we’re celebrating, you’re home” The house was Hinata’s and Sasuke’s but during the 4 years of University Ino rented their guestroom but the blonde packed most of her things and sent them back to her home with a moving truck. She was to leave Wednesday next week.

They ate and talked some more about Hinata’s future plans to teach middle-school English, about Sasuke’s deployment which went really well, besides a few injures, nothing major happened. After they finished eating Sasuke went to wash the dished. Just like he did when she was cooking Hinata hugged him from behind while he was working.

He was finally home; whenever he was gone Hinata always was a bit on the edge but with him close everything was as it should be. “I love you” she said and kissed his shoulder.

“I love you too” Sasuke said and turned around and in a few quick moves picked her up and put her on the counter. He walked between her legs and held her close and kissed her slow and steady. He had missed her so much, not only in a sexual way but in a physical and emotional way. He missed holding her while they slept, missed smelling her perfume everywhere around him, missed her voice and they way she held his hand whenever they were walking together even if it was in the supermarket. Her positivism and innocence also were things he craved. He missed everything that made her her.

He deepened the kiss and Hinata crossed her legs over his waist. He placed his hands under her butt and picked her up still not breaking the kiss. Sasuke knew the house well enough to navigate it while kissing her but Hinata broke the kiss when they reached the stairs and smiled at him.

“Let’s go to our room” She said still smiling beautifully at him. Every part of her body was touching his in their embrace and nothing had ever felt that perfect before.

“Yes, let’s go” He would sleep with her in his arms today; of course, after ravishing some of her innocence.

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vanchlo · 5 years ago

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The Assistant / Chapter Forty-Two, “Music To My Ears”

*Gif is not mine*

Clickable Links:

- *NEW* Becky Magazine Cover from an O.C. Tag Challenge

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: None

Music Inspo: All My Love by George Ezra (click to listen)

SNEAKYYYYYY PEEK

It all feels surreal and so quickly, seeing him there dressed to the nines in another handsome suit. He’s back, and he’s all mine. I don’t quite know how we’re going to do this whole thing, but I can’t fucking wait. I’m unsure of how different it will be at the firm and as his mentee, but I know we’ll make it work. After the last few years of shit we’ve went through, this seems like a piece of cake, or so I hope.

“Morning,” I almost whisper, wishing I was threading my arms around his middle right now and not standing across the room. Instead, they sit flat against my front, hands clasped at my waist. His shiny brunette curls tickle his temples when he looks up fast and over to me, the light of a thousand suns filling his face.

“And so, when a person meets the half that is his very own, then something wonderful happens: the two are struck from their senses by love, by a sense of belonging to one another, and by desire, and they don't want to be separated from one another, not even for a moment.”

― Plato, The Symposium

My first attempt is measly, but by the second time, I get it open despite my wildly trembling fingers. The sigh I had been coaxing to remain inside of my lungs finds its way out at last when the door clicks! into the hinges. The blissed out smile I can’t remember being without sticks to my lips as my back graces the door. Somehow, the air inside here smells even sweeter as the fireworks still ignite within my chest.

I’m only brought back to the present when I hear somebody clear their throat. Opening my eyes, I find Skye waiting on the couch with her knees brought to her chest.

“So?! That was a long fucking time to be standing out in the hallway just talking, Rebecca Holte!” Skye exclaims with an eagerness filling her cheeks with crimson.

All that escapes my lips is the happiest laugh I’ve felt my insides flourish in as long as I can remember. Her eyebrows raise with a question posed to me, and I answer it with a mere nod that causes her to shoot out of her seat and over to me.

“Ree, finally!” she almost screams, and I echo it with my eternal laugh, relaxing into her arms.

“Yeah . . finally it’s all coming together.”

I have just enough time to recount the details of the event to her in all of its glory. As if on cue, my ‘You’ve Got A Friend In Me’ ringtone begins to sing from my pocket.

“Ooooo, is that him already?! You better answer it, Ree!” Skye exclaims with eagerness to her voice. The blush finds its way back to my cheeks as I escape with a cheek kiss from her, my feet soon padding down the hallway.

“Wow, you actually mean it when you said you would call.”

“Why, o’ ‘course I meant it, bug. I always keep me promises,” Harry hums in return, just the sound of his voice launching my heart into somersaults.

“I see that . . thank you,” I mumble, closing my door behind me softly, in order to deter Skye from eavesdropping anymore than she already is.

“Can I say sumthin’ weird?” he murmurs, voice sounding far away almost. I blame that discrepancy on his phone paired to his car by Bluetooth, making him feel all the more far away from me.

“Sure, I like weird. I mean, I like you.”

“Wow, good flirtin’ there, Ms. Hotshot. ‘m really feelin’ all tha love,” Harry titters until it wanders into a soft sigh. He clears his throat and a nervous laugh follows, pulling me to attention.

“Oh, why thank you . . But, go ahead. What is it, Harry?” I return, falling onto the messy covers of my bed, exiled outfits littering the surface.

“I already miss you, bug. Hasn’t even been ten minutes and I bloody miss you,” he confesses gently, a sad giggle adorning his words, echoing those that sit within my heart.

“You’re not the only one, Harry. I miss you too. If we’re gonna be honest with each other, I missed you so much last week, and even more those seven months we didn’t talk, and-” I reveal into my phone, and then into his ears. The anxiousness falls away at my confession, one I’ve been coaxing to remain within my own ears for far too long. I had hinted at it and said it with my lips, but it feels so freeing to finally let the words loose to the world. To him.

My Harry.

“Tha year afta ya quit . . I know. I missed you like hell durin’ all o’ those times too, it tore me up bein’ away from you,” he continues, pulling the words from my mouth where they leave to inform his ears. “And I want us t’ be honest with each otha, Becks . . Always.”

“I thought I’d never stop missing you during all of those times. And now, here we are,” I say, an ironic and yet happy laugh filling his ears.

“Yes, here we are, bug. Togetha . . ‘s ‘bout fookin’ time,” he giggles, and like he always has been able to do, he pulls one from my lips with the help of his contagious happiness. “So, back t’ happier things . . Erm, what’re ya doin’ on Sunday?”

“Eh, probably just watching FRIENDS in my pajamas.”

“Mmm, I admit that sounds like a ratha wondaful Sunday. Why dontcha come ova t’ mine and watch FRIENDS in yer jammies with me? ‘ll even put on me jammies too,” Harry suggests, further proving that this can actually get better. I didn’t think that was possible.

No, I did not after that incredible first kiss, and second, and third.

“That sounds amazing, Harry. I’d love to see you in your ‘jammies.’”

“Yers too, bug. ‘d like t’ make dinna fer you, as well,” he continues, knocking me off of my feet once again.

“Aww. That would be so awesome, Harry! Hey, can you make your chicken pot pie? That pic you sent me from the last time you made it looked so yummy.”

“‘Course, ‘d love t’ make it fer you,” he giggles, the tell tale sounds of traffic accompanying his words. I hear a train toot its horn in the distance, and the rhythmic clicking of his indicator.

“Okay, great, and I’ll bring dessert.”

“Sounds great, bug. I can’t wait, Sunday can’t come fast enuff,” Harry says, the purring of his engine filling the background.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

His adorable laugh graces my ears, somehow being too long since the last time I had heard it, “How does 5 sound?”

“It sounds like a date,” I chirp happily, wondering for the hundredth time if the words that are coming out of my mouth are indeed real.

Real, they are, sister, the demon living inside the walls of my skull chimes.

Where ever did you run off to? I reply.

I’ve been here the whole time, mate, just watching and waiting. I’m usually not big on love, but holy shit, are you two adorable. Go on, now. You’re interrupting my entertainment.

You stop interrupting! the angel groans back.

“Hey, ‘m s’posed t’ say that part ‘coz ‘s my date! I said ‘d get tha second date,” Harry pouts from my ear, and I wonder if I’ll ever stop laughing. The better question is if I’ll ever stop smiling. I don’t know the answer to that one, and I think I’m okay not knowing.

I wonder if I’ll ever stop loving him, and to that question, I already know the answer.

“Oh, sorry,” I chuckle hard now, fueled further by the sound of his clucking tongue, muttering a sarcastic ‘fer God’s sake, Becks.’ “Let’s start over.”

“‘Kay . . How does 5 sound?” he snickers, feigning composure in his voice when it’s needed most.

“I’ll be there!”

“Great, it sounds like a date then,” he titters, and soon our laughs mingle together, forming a duet.

I thought my favorite song in the entire world was his laugh, but now, I think I may be wrong.

Surrealness blankets my body like a cloak, invisible, and yet all around me, as I stand in front of that door. The handle of the cloth bag digs into the crook of my elbow while the cold seeps in through my coat. I only grow colder when my fist raises once more, but it falls with a defeated sigh. Fear joins the other emotions fighting for the stage inside of me, and it nearly debilitates me with every second that passes.

At last, my fist meets the muted scarlet red surface of his front door. A faint ‘c’min!’ sounds from the other side, causing my heart to gallop quicker inside me. A shaky exhale drops from my lips just before I swing the door open, and am met with the comforting smells of home cooking. I see him before he sees me, and the sight itself takes away the anxiety I’ve felt all day for this moment. For tonight. You’d think I’d have been more nervous for the first date than the second date. Nope, here I am nervous as can be standing in the doorway of his home, a bundle of nerves.

Harry couldn’t look more adorable, or handsome, kneading his bottom lip while steam wafts along his face. Adjusting the yellow tea towel strewn over his shoulder, he closes a cookbook before his eyes dart over to me. His lips injected with golden sunshine reach his ears and the dazzle returns to his eyes dripping with green.

“Hey, bug,” he hums, setting down the towel on the counter. The concoction of onions, herbs, and chicken tickles my nose while my heart races just at the sight of him. It does a few dances at the memory of our last date, and just how it ended.

“Hi, Harry. It smells incredible in here,” I say, greeting him. After closing the door, I toe off my shoes to sit on the mat by the door.

“Thanks, babe. Dinna’s all ready, I jus’ took tha pot pie out a few minutes ago,” he grins, coming to a stop in front of me with that sunshiney smile. The cover of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumors’ album dons his cream shirt in black and white. His long legs and bum tempt my thoughts in the form-fitting black joggers he wears.

“Hey, you’re not wearing pajamas like you said,” I tease when he pulls me into a hug, feigning annoyance when that’s something I could never feel in this moment.

“Neitha are you, li’l one. I can’t wear bloody jammies on a second date, ‘s far too soon. I still gotta make a good first impression,” Harry replies, the joking words brushing against my temple. Laughing, a shiver courses across my body but soon disappears once his arms settle to hold me against him.

“I think that’s pretty far gone, that first impression thing,” I counter playfully, hesitantly removing my face from the crook of his neck to find his playful eyes waiting for me.

“Doesn’t hurt t’ try, bug,” he giggles, and no matter how much I adore the sound, I can’t stand it any longer and steal it away with my lips. A similar giggle of my own is muffled against his lips that taste like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. They taste like him, I realize silently and happily.

Our happy sounds mingle together while his lips mold against mine. They grow especially when he struggles to remove the bag from the crook of my arm, belatedly setting it down on the floor, allowing me to wrap both arms around him. The point of my nose dances across his prickly cheek when I pull away just slightly to surround his top lip with my own. The feeling of his prickly upper lip surprises my own, and leads my hand to caress his cheek. Smattering of vanilla sticks to his skin in spots while his warm breaths brush against my skin. The thrumming of my heart grows when I feel the lukewarm metal of his rings against my lower back, and then wandering in my hair.

The feeling of his pillowy, soft lips are a thing of the past when he pulls away with a titter against mine. A soft question tumbles from my lips but he doesn’t answer it, instead pressing a whispery peck to my lips that still crave his.

“Missed you,” he rasps, my skin igniting with sparks when his soft thumb pulls my bottom lip down, only to spring back.

“I missed you more,” I argue and his cherry lips fall into disbelief.

“Hey, that’s my line!” he exclaims, and I only laugh, realizing the trick I pulled. His happy song soon ghosts over my face, trailing behind his nose that draws a line against my cheek. “My Becks,” he coos in a whisper, ending his sentence with a punctuating kiss to my temple.

“Harry . . My Harry,” I echo, accentuated by my hand running through his hair that is especially curly today.

“‘m all yers, babe, have been fer longer than ya know,” he agrees aloud, escaping to the crook of my neck where his lips leave whispers below my ear and up my neck.

The words themselves make my heart swell with what else other than love. It finds its way past my lips in a happy chuckle against his hair, and in another kiss pressed to his sunshine lips once he’s looking at me again.

The temptation of one-upping him escalates within me, but I resist, unable to make a joke in this second. No, not after what he just said and the echoing words bubbling up inside of me.

“I never could be anything but yours, Harry, it’s always been that way,” I smile, welcoming the truth and reality laced throughout my voice. The words resound in my heart louder, spreading throughout my body as I observe them fill his ears. A glow claims his eyes and then his lips, the dimples in his cheeks threatening to never leave.

“You’ll neva know jus’ how happy ya make me, Becks, and how much ‘s magnified jus’ in tha last few days, bug. Yer me favourite person all ova again,” Harry mumbles in between blissed out smiles, one I haven’t had the pleasure to meet yet in all of our times together. No, I don’t think so. Spoiled, I am. “Let’s go eat dinna, bug. We can kiss mo’ later,” he rasps against my cheek, stealing one more kiss from my grinning lips. I nod, listening to his breathy laugh that I missed more than I realized while he was gone.

My hand falls into his naturally, and he gives it a firm squeeze. Here he is, back with me, and he’s everything I’ve always wanted. This, is everything.

“You’ve always been my everything, you just didn’t know it. Sometimes, I forgot it too,” I confess in a mere whisper, words interrupted soon by his. I only wish I had the courage that he does to speak them, loud and proudly.

“What was that?” he mumbles, leading me over to the oval shaped wooden table on the other side of the kitchen island.

“Nothing.”

“No, I heard ya say sumthin’, jus’ couldn’t make it out,” Harry insists, coming to a halt at one of the chairs. Luminescent moonlight trickles in from the almost closed drapes on the sliding deck doors opposite of us. Shaking my head nervously, a dominant blush attacks his teasing cheeks. “Ya gotta tell me, bug.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything!” I joke, and a high-pitched scoff adorns his lips quickly. A giggle spills from my mouth to greet the air when he yanks me into his arms, fingertips assaulting my sensitive ribs.

“Becks! Stop playin’ hard t’ get, li’l one. We’re past that now,” he exclaims, feigning authority, but I can hear the affability shining in his deep voice. Laughs explode from my lips until they slowly die away, finding safety where I always do, hiding my face in the crook of his warm neck.

“Or are we?” I titter against the pulsing, freckled skin. My lips shake louder when another offended scoff greets the air, feeding my laughter only more.

“No, we aren’t, ya brat,” he pouts, and any worries I had are dispelled when his nose tickles my hairline. “Now, why can’t ya tell me what ya said? I wantcha t’ know ya can tell me anythin’ in tha world, Becks . . Promise.”

“It’s kinda scary to say,” I admit, wondering about these lengths I’ve suddenly gone to that he somehow jumped within moments. He soothes the worries with his long fingers doting stripes up and down my back.

“Ya can tell me scary stuff too, bug. Anythin’ at all. Could neva be mad at you when ya make me so bloomin’ happy without hardly doin’ a thing.”

A breathy laugh graces my lips now, muffled by the place where his neck and his broad shoulder meet. He remains silent, and the only sound I hear is that of his rhythmic breathing that does wonders for relaxing me in this crazed moment. His lips feathery against the top of my head do it for me, unraveling the ribbon that tied my not-so-secret together.

“You’ve always been my everything, Harry . . you just didn’t know it, but I did,” I admit, taking my time enunciating every word into the confines of him.

“‘ve always wondered, Becks, think it was coz ya’ve been me everythin’ longa than I can rememba,” he comments, taking my breath away with little to no effort, something he’s entirely too good at as of recently. “Thank you, babe,” he finishes adamantly, moving away and in the process, drawing my eyes upwards and towards his captivating greens.

“Thank you, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“‘ve wanted it mo’,” he giggles, and I ruffle a hand through his hair to mess it up.

“Stop it with the one-upping! You ruined the sentiment, Styles,” I exclaim, mouth falling into an exaggerated pout. His laugh disappears quickly, soon brushing my ears when it’s his turn to dive into my neck. ‘Sorrys’ meet my ears and are soon reciprocated with ‘okays’ and a squeeze from my arms around his middle.

“But I do mean it, Becks. It wasn’t love at first sight really, but bloody hell, ya sure roped me in fast when ya wouldn’t take me shit. Ya became me best friend befo’ I knew it was happenin.’ I knew ya were sumthin’ different altogetha, I jus’ realized it too late,” Harry confesses softly below my ear, and for the first time since noticing those sad songs on his phone, sorrow wrenches at my heart. I had forgotten what it had felt like, the seeds of our relationship finally growing within my heart that’s been filled to the brim with happiness all of a sudden. “You neva once stopped bein’ me everythin’, Rebecca Ann Holte . . I neva wantcha t’ fo’get that . . ‘m sorry if I eva made ya feel othawise . . ‘m so bloody mad ‘bout you, and I can finally tell ya all ‘bout it.”

The right words escape me, like they so often do, a quality he luckily doesn’t possess, especially after everything he just said. Instead, I leave my hiding place wrapped up in safety, and press at the back of his neck until my lips are against his.

“Mad ‘bout me as well, are we?” Harry asks, the question dancing across my lips in between kisses.

A joke sits on my lips, ready to fire, while the shocks of caramel glow in his sage irises. Multitudes of feelings consume my words and pump me full of happiness, all thanks to the face I finally get to melt at the sight of. The face I finally get to call all mine, and cover with kisses too. I don’t know which is better.

“More and more every day,” I admit at last, letting the reaction unfold on his face framed by dark facial hair. No longer is it just stubble, and the realization excites me, leading me to wonder what he’ll look like with a proper beard.

Quickly, the anticipation grows and then settles, resting assured that I'll get to be there to see it happen. I’ll get to see so much of his life happen, and get to share mine with him as he stands at my side.

“Couldn’t have said it betta meself,” Harry grins, planting one last kiss on the very tip of my nose. “Let’s go have some dinna and watch FRIENDS, Boops.”

“Ya really can’t disappoint me when it comes t’ baked goods, y’know that? Oh, and if they’re chocolate, that too. Yer really settin’ tha bar high here, Becks.”

“Why do you make that sound like a bad thing?” I say, turning my palm up in question that dissolves with the same happy sound that surrounds his lips.

Shrugging his shoulders, another bite of the chocolatey bread passes his rosebud lips. The sounds I make only grow louder at the fake crying expression claiming his face, “Means ya gotta keep bakin’ me stuff, and bloody hell, mo’ o’ this chocolate banana bread, please. Two o’ me favourite things in one right here.”

“You can keep the loaf, Harry. I have another at home.”

“Oh, so when I run outta mine, I can jus’ come ova t’ yers and help finish that one off then?” he questions, licking streaks of chocolate from his thumb.

My God, you’re such a fucking tease, Harry.

Chill it, would you?

Who? Him or you? the demon chuckles

Fuck, probably both.

“Sure,” I respond, eyes following his long figure that leaves my side to wander to the kitchen. “You can come over anytime you want . . How does Tuesday night sound? I’ll make you dinner, and there will be more chocolate banana bread for you.”

“And mo’ watchin’ FRIENDS in our not so jammies with wine and loads o’ blankets?” he hums from the kitchen, the sloshing of a liquid into a glass following his words.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good, ‘ssa date then,” Harry chimes, returning to the sofa to slip underneath the multicolored quilt I’m tucked underneath. “A third date.”

“Whiskey now too? I thought you liked the wine,” I laugh, confused after my eyes had danced over to him where he sips from an old-fashioned glass.

“I do, but ‘s not strong enough. Plus, ‘s yer Rebecca wine that I didn’t wanna drink all up.”

“What are you talking about, Harry?” I chuckle, scooting closer to him after he mumbles something I can’t hear.

“‘m nervous ‘round you,” he says again, louder this time before the amber liquid passes his lips once more. His eyes remain staring forward at the television where Monica and Rachel argue in the apartment.

“You are too?” I wonder aloud, ever so softly, but there’s just enough volume in my voice to pull his eyes over to me. A nod fulfills his words while one corner of his mouth lifts slightly, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Surprise, surprise. “Why are you nervous? You’ve been so much fun all night, and the food was wonderful.”

“Why d’ya think? New relationship jitters - I don’t wanna mess anythin’ up,” he confesses shyly with a short smile overflowing with conflict.

A ‘hey’ plummets from my lips without permission as I scooch closer to him, closing the distance until there’s no more steps I can take. My arm winds around his bicep, my other hooking my finger under his chin to get him to look at me.

“You’re not going to mess anything up, that’s my job,” I tell him adamantly, pleased at the sound of his smallest of laughs. “I’m nervous too, like all of the time. I don’t want to screw this up either, but I’ve spent so many years wanting this with you - to be sitting on your sofa together at your house watching FRIENDS laughing together, and getting to kiss you, that I’m not just going to sit here and let it get the best of me. You shouldn’t either, Harry,” I tell him, my hand finding its way to him unsurprisingly.

He leans into my hand that caresses his cheek, the pad of my thumb moving back and forth over his abrasive stubble. A ‘but’ jumps from his lips, but I don’t let any others follow when I place my lips on top of his.

“Ya always know what t’ say, dontcha, bug?” Harry coos, flitting his eyes to mine under the shelter of his dense eyelashes.

“I thought you had that claimed, not me. That’s something you have to teach me. I swear, you have a way with words.”

“Dunno whatcha yer talkin’ ‘bout, love,” he tuts, shaking his head as he pulls me against his side, arm winding around my shoulder.

“Look at that, you got the first ‘arm around the shoulder.’”

“No duh I did, ‘s tha man’s job,” he jokes, voice contorting into a deeper one that leaks with humor. My head heavy with dreams falls to his shoulder, and my hand strays to his chest.

His hand brushes against my cheek, yanking my attention away from the show and to his patient eyes. He winks at me, followed by dipping down to press a kiss to the top of my head.

“Alright?” I pose to him, taking a page from his book.

“Can’t rememba tha last time I felt this ‘alright,’” he answers, the smile trickling into his eyes. “And you, bug?”

“I’m more than alright,” I comment, letting my eyes fall shut when he bumps his forehead against mine affectionately. A content sigh of mine, the first in a long time, tickles his chest as he falls back against the cushions. His fingernails leave zings of electricity among my arm underneath the fabric of my jumper, and soon they shoot across my head when his chin comes to rest there.

“Which one ‘s this ‘gain?” he hums from above me, the words rumbling through his chest. The thum...thum of his heart resumes underneath my ear, and I feel as if I could fall asleep right here and now.

“The One with the Candy Hearts,” I answer after pressing a button on the remote, hearing an ‘mmmm’ from his lips.

“Could eat you up like a candy heart, yer so bloody cute,” he titters with words pointed at me, and I echo his happy sound. “Fook, it feels so good t’ finally get t’ say all tha cheesy flirtin’ rubbish I want t’ ya, Becks.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” I murmur chuckling, words soon stolen away by a yawn that ends with a smile when he scatters kisses along my cheek.

“Don’t fall asleep now, bug. I might jus’ continue watchin’ tha rest o’ tha episode without you, like a certain sumbody I know,” Harry jests playfully, the most perfect sound igniting sparks across my cheek where his words land. “‘m kiddin. If ya need some shut-eye ‘s okay, ‘ll tell ya what happened when ya wake up, bug. I wouldn’t leave me favourite person out like that, not eeva.”

“Thanks,” I giggle, allowing my hand to stray to a chestnut ringlet that tickles his forehead. It draws his attention to my touch, and next, I find his green eyes with my own. “Harry, I have a request.”

“Ya, li’l one?” he hums in response, quirking an eyebrow in accompaniment.

“After the episode is done, can we listen to some of your old records and paint each other’s nails?” I pose, the nerves peaking through in my voice. The approval pulls his lips up towards his cheeks once again, and I truly don’t think I could ever get sick of that smile.

Never, ever.

“‘d love that, Becks. ‘ll hafta play some o’ me favourites fer ya.”

Sometimes, like in this very moment, I can’t remember there ever being a time when you stopped being my favorite person. There certainly were times, but they seem like other realities now, especially now that I know there’s no possibility that it could ever stop being you, Harry. It has always been you, and it will continue to always be you.

My Harry.

The sight in front of me still manages to baffle me, and it throws me for a further loop when I press my lips to her temple. She lets me, with the smallest of smiles gracing her blush lips. At times, it all feels like I’m in one of my dreams, until I realize that I indeed am living one of them.

It’s about fucking time.

Chandler and Joey bicker about something on the telly, but try as I might, I can’t get myself to focus on it. I didn’t miss a beat during the last episode, but now with the whiskey and wine coursing through me, the fear has fallen away. Her skin is warm against my lips, and the vanilla-orange blossom scent that she’s drenched in surrounds me. The easiest of smiles finds its way to my lips once again, and grows larger as I let my forehead meet her head.

“You’re supposed to be watching,” she whispers from below me, a soft amusement carrying her words. Opening my eyes, I find her long eyelashes flutter. Her scent trickles away when she moves her head, looking up at me curiously. The hint of a smile that’s been stuck to her lips ignites once again, keeping the fire alive within my heart.

“What? ‘m good at multitaskin’,” I insist, knowing by now that we both can tell when the other is lying.

“No, you aren’t. That’s why you get so little done on the days you bring your guitar to work,” Becks responds, widening her eyes a little at me to emphasize her words.

“Rude,” I remark, but it’s stolen away by giggles. Hers and mine, and it might be the best sound I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing.

As the seconds tick on, I keep wondering when I’m going to wake up and the dream will be over. When I close the small distance between us, catching her lips with my own, I hope I never have to wake up. They’re like honey against my own, sweet and golden. The taste of her fills me and for what must be the tenth time now, her top lip tastes better than I could have ever imagined. It fits between my own like a jigsaw piece, affirming my notions I’ve had about this girl for years on end.

Her decadent giggle grazes my ears when her ocean blue eyes fill my own again. I can’t help but join her, taking part in all of these things with her. I’m beside myself with how so goddamn right they feel. The smile that my lips haven’t been without for days now is mirrored on her own, the very pair that I’m still amazed I just got to kiss. The lips I’ve been dying to kiss for the last two, incredibly long, years.

“What are you thinking about, thumbing at your lip like that?” she wonders aloud, my very favourite voice in this entire world. Cocking her head to the side, she stares up at me. The warmth inside of me spreads amongst my limbs, tingling at the end of my fingers where one of her dark curls wraps around it. Too much like the way she’s had me wrapped around hers ever since that very first day I called her ‘Becks.’

It was history after that, they say.

“Jus’ rememba’d an old friend I ran into tha otha day. ‘s a story you’d like,” I respond, enjoying the way the light catches the dark and light flecks of blue in her irises. The Holte Blue Eyes, they appear to be, and I can’t stop myself from thinking what a child of mine would look like with those blue eyes.

“Who’s that?” she smiles, tipping her head to rest on my arm wound around her shoulder. The pads of my fingers explore her back, drawing shapes over her too adorable olive green knitted jumper.

“Alcott- Professor Alcott,” I answer, observing the connection echoing in her eyes. Nodding, her blues remain perked up at me. I can’t think of a better sight in this whole universe, and it brings happiness to my lips like she can do without hardly trying. “That day I ran into you at tha market, I saw him there right afta. I guess it was a good day fer run-ins with old friends.”

My subsequent out of place laugh pulls her natural eyebrows together in question, one that she soon vocalizes, “What’s so funny, Harry?”

“‘s not so much funny as jus’ . . I dunno, ratha perfect,” I answer, and the happiness spilling from her lips is accompanied by a raise of her eyebrows. “When I saw him afta I spoke t’ yer class that one day, tha first time ‘d seen ya in almost a year . . I erm, asked him ‘bout you. I had no bloody idea ya were goin’ back t’ finish yer LLB, and so I was full o’ questions afta seein’ you in his class. He had all good things t’ say ‘bout you, big surprise, and there was this one thing he said that I never forgot ‘bout.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” Becks says, almost on the edge of her seat at the revelation of my story. “Harry,” she giggles when I take too long to respond.

It doesn’t have anything to do with reluctance, but more so because of how fucked I am right now losing myself in her eyes. Those blues, my God. The thought continues to unravel, and my smile fills out at its discovery.

I really do hope that my children get to have those blue eyes of hers one day, they’re the most gorgeous color I’ve ever seen.

“Sorry . . He said sumthin’ ‘bout you comin’ back t’ work at me firm once ya graduated. ‘Circle of Life,’ he called it, so it was funny when I ran into him at tha market. I was beside meself with glee gettin’ t’ tell him that you did indeed come back t’ work with me. He was happy t’ hear it and ‘s very proud o’ you, as am I,” I share, and the confession plants the dimple into her left cheek.

After all of this time, I think I’ve figured it out. I can only find it there when the happiness engulfs her, surprising her with its intensity, letting the dimple out of hiding.

“And did you tell him?” she ponders, now getting all shy on me by averting her eyes. I don’t think I have much to complain about, seeing how she’s tracing the outline of a tattoo on my forearm. A ‘what’ whispers from my lips as the curl relaxes around my finger, and my hand wanders to her cheek, pulling her back to me. “That you had a crush on me?”

“I did, ya, but I don’t think that’s how I phrased it,” I chuckle, finding the redness in her cheeks that also sit in mine. “Don’t think ‘d call it that, would you?”

Her answer is sufficed by a shrug of her shoulders, and quickly I’m losing my lips in the brown freckles scattered across her neck. My name flies from hers in a titter as my arms surround her.

“Hmmm?” I hum against her skin, finding the hollow below her ear with my eager lips.

“No, I guess I wouldn’t call it that, either,” she laughs, the words vibrating beneath my lips. Letting my eyes fall closed, I lean into her and feel her curl up against me. “It’s far more than that,” Becks says softly, carding a hand through my curls. Bringing me forth, I move away from her to find those ocean deep eyes sitting on me. An honor, indeed.

Bloody hell, what a fucking honor it would be if my children had that twinkle in their eye and that song in their laugh, too. As well as that one little cheek dimple, just like Becks.

I don’t even care at this point how carried away I’m getting.

“Sure ‘s, bug,” I murmur, my surroundings soon cloaked in darkness when her lips find mine. Her hair falls through my fingers like buttery taffy when it finds the back of her head. Her lips taste like strawberries and sunshine, and not even because of the wine. Specks of chocolate hide in them, surprising me with their sweetness, just like she keeps doing to me.

I may never get over how sweet my little bug is, and that’s just fine with me, because I finally have all of the time I want to get used to it. Although I’m unsure if it will ever be enough, I know that Becky undoubtedly is.

A laugh sputters from her lips, bringing an end to our kiss.

“What’re you laughin’ ‘bout, Rebecca?” I snicker, nudging my nose against hers, stealing another peck from her candy coated lips.

“First, you saying my name like that, and secondly, keep playing with my hair,” is all she says, joined by her head falling to my chest. The disappointment at the absence of her lips is short when I’m again amazed by how effortlessly she gets me going with her head on my chest.

“Why ‘s that funny?” I ask, keeping my word and letting her satiny waves run through my fingers. Glancing away, I find her eyes flutter closed against the fabric of my shirt. The weight of her on my front feels comforting, and so does this entire thing. It’s just comforting the mere fact of her being here with me, and in my arms.

I still have a hard time believing my eyes.

“You’ll see.”

A question knits my brows together as I giggle, combing my hand through the front of her hair until I reach its end moments later, sorting out the snarls. Her breathing begins to slow and her body stills against mine.

“Becks, dontch’u fall asleep on me, bug. Our episode isn’t ova quite yet,” I snicker. The champagne bubbles that have filled my insides over the last few weeks climb higher and higher when her lips mirror the action.

“I will if you keep playing with my hair.”

“Ah, so ‘ve found yer weakness, have I?” I reply, looking down and placing my puckered lips on the crown of her head.

“Mmmhmm, it’s always been able to lull me to sleep, and relax me. My dad always did it when I was little.”

“Noted,” I murmur against her hair, letting my cheek fall to rest atop her head. My arms sing when they embrace her, welcoming the familiarity they find.

“Doesn’t help that yer a proper li’l heater too, yer makin’ me wanna fall asleep now too, bug. ‘s only six-thirty,” I yawn, my eyelids growing heavy as she snuggles into me.

“Then take a little cat nap with me, Harry,” Becks yawns, burrowing deeper into the hollow of my neck. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“‘Kay, ‘ll just shut me eyes . . fer a few minutes,” I drawl, knowing that the slow rise of her chest on mine will soon take me away into dreamland.

I don’t know what I could possibly dream about that’s better than this, though. Perhaps little dark haired babies with her blue eyes and dimples set into their cheeks, sat upon her lap.

Oh, please.

A feeling that I had hoped and dreamed years for, sticks with each step I take the next morning after getting off onto Seventeen. I haven’t been able to kick the smile that arrived on my lips the moment I parked my car, and my cheeks have only grown more tired since then.

Like every other morning, he’s nowhere to be found. Missing in action. Although I sat at his side with his arm around me until nine o’clock last night, my heart aches for him worse than any other morning at work.

I spend no time dropping off my own messenger bag in my office, along with my lunch and thermos of coffee. My heart speeds up its racing when I slip into his office searching for him to no avail.

I’m ready to throw in the towel until I remember his not so hiding place from last time, and once again, there I find him with a stack of papers in his hands. A smile winds its way up my lips at the sight of him pressing his lips together, creating comical popping noises.

After the last few years of shit we’ve went through, this seems like a piece of cake, or so I hope.

“G’mornin’, bug. What’re ya doin’ all tha way ova there, huh, why’re you bein’ a stranger?” Harry grins, waving a hand over to me while the large copier makes whirring noises, taking his document away.

A nervous laugh tumbles from me as I take slow steps over to him, unsure if the smile climbing his cheeks at the mere sight of me is true.

I wonder if seeing is believing.

“C’mere, ya slow poke,” he titters, holding out an arm towards me. Finally, my heart begins to slow down. It only truly does once my cheek touches his shoulder and our arms settle around the other. “Mornin’, my Becks. Sumbody looks tired, I see. ‘m sorry I kept ya up last night with our texts.”

“It’s okay,” I yawn, tipping my head towards his eyes that await mine. “I had lots of fun talking to you about all sorts of things after I got home.”

“So did I, bug, so did I,” he agrees, leaving a whispery kiss on my forehead with his lips that smell of coconut chapstick. Hmm, I wonder if they taste like coconut too, and the budding thought stirs up a craving I’ve had for his lips since I woke this morning. “Don’t be fallin’ asleep on me t’day, tho’. We have work t’ do.”

“Hey, you stole my line!” I giggle, staring up at him through my lashes doused in a few extra coats of mascara.

“Seems we’re even then,” he grins with a cheeky wink, earning a nod from me. The dimples remain in his cheeks marked by the stubble that I’m coming to like more and more, a sure surprise to me. “Ya look gorgeous once again, bug. There’s jus’ sumthin’ ‘bout ya in yer lawyer getup that gets me goin’,” he chuckles, the last few words muffled against my cheek. A blush rises on my own and I move ever so slowly until his lips are a breath away from mine.

“Now you know how I’ve felt all of these years,” I admit breathlessly, the mere sight of him stripping the breath from my lungs.

“Do I now, li’l one?” he teases, brushing the back of his finger against my cheek. His cheeks soon match mine with a warm pink that fills my eyes before he envelopes my lips with his own, finally. They’re smooth and pillowy against mine, and within moments, I taste the coconut chapstick coating them.

The notifying bleep! of the copier nudges at my ears, but the sound of a voice outside the door pulls me away from his lips. A glint sits in his eyes when I find the courage to meet them before turning around. I’ve put only a few feet in between us when I hear the click! of the door opening, and Rose’s sing-song voice.

“Are we hiding from our job in the copier room, again? If you’re doing it, then it must be okay for me to do it too,” she jokes, her fiery waves tickling the jade fabric of her long sleeved blouse.

“Hey, don’t be puttin' words in me mouth,” Harry scoffs. With a new glossy black folder I found on the supply shelf, I turn around to find Rose rolling her eyes at him.

“I don’t know how you do it spending every minute of every work day with him. Four hours, give or take, a week spent with him is enough for me,” she sighs jokingly, her words wrapped up with a wink. An amused smile curls at the edge of my lips as I face her, nervously tapping the folder against my thigh.

“I don’t know how I do it sometimes, either,” I sigh, throwing up my hands in a shrug.

“Hey, would you two stop gangin’ up on me? Bloody hell, ‘m yer boss,” Harry exclaims in utter disbelief, but by now I hardly have to listen for the tell tale signs of sarcasm in his caramel voice. I know that they’re already there.

“Oooo, I’m so scared,” Rose whines, yanking a laugh from my lips as she dunks a hand into the open box of pens on a shelf. “I swear, Myles nicks all of the good pens when they come in, it’s no fair.”

“Maybe you could trade him some for your Styles and Lawson coffee mug,” I suggest with another laugh bubbling within my voice, soon joined by Rose’s loud laugh.

“Good one, Becky,” she chuckles, her long gold earrings dancing with her movements. “Have I told you yet that I’m glad you hired her again?” she poses to Harry with a smile. When I follow her eyes, I’m rewarded with Harry’s glimmering pair. No longer is a smirk waiting in them for me, but something else entirely, and it’s that very sparkle he let loose for me just a couple days ago.

“I think ya have, once or twice,” he hums softly. “Can’t blame ya tho’, she’s a riot, alright. Pretty happy meself fer bringin’ her back.”

Oh, Harry, the things you can do to me with just a few words. And I know that you’re well aware of just that.

“Those mugs, though. I don’t know, Myles must have ordered a hundred of them when the firm was born, because I get one every year for Christmas without fail,” Rose mutters, taking apart the empty pen box before tossing it in the recycling bin.

“Don’t look at me, I tell him tha very same things - that they’re cheesy, tha font isn’t even right, and that we need t’ order new ones if he’s so keen on givin’ ‘em out,” Harry argues, holding his hands up in defense.

“Yeah, keep talking, Harry. As if you’re not drinking out of one this very second with that shit-eating grin on your face,” she responds, and a laugh sputters from my lips without my approval. Harry’s eyes cast over to me and he shakes his head at me with narrowed eyes, over his onyx colored mug. It’s all for show, and soon he’s winking at me.

“Good luck with spending forty hours a week with this one. I think you’re stuck with him, you poor thing,” she remarks, clucking her tongue as she slaps the pen against her palm rhythmically.

“Yeah,” I huff, dragging my eyes over to Harry with a smile absent from my face. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it either, I’m stuck with him for a few years at least.”

“You better get out while you still can!” she jests with faux wariness injected into her voice. Laughing, she slips out through the door as my eyes fall to the floor. I try to hide the amused sounds escaping my lips, but I find them growing louder as his footsteps sound in my ears.

“So, yer ‘stuck with me,’ are ya now?” Harry rasps from behind me. I nearly rise off the floor when his fingers dance along my sides, eliciting surprised shrieks into the air.

“Harry!” I exclaim, goosebumps forming along my neck when his breathy laughs coast over the skin. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“‘m ratha happy ya are, y’know.”

“So am I. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I respond, spinning around to find his smirking lips once more. Unlike his, mine slowly plummet and too soon, I find his doing the same.

“Neitha would I, bug, but . . how come ya don’t sound too sure o’ that?”

“I am, I don’t know what you mean,” I say, sheepishly. Not helping my case, my eyes fall to his hands. The typical rings don most of his long fingers dotted with dark hairs. I mingle my own with his by lacing ours together.

“Y’know, ‘ve been able t’ tell when yer lyin’ fer years now, ya don’t have me fooled. You look away and don’t say much when yer lyin,’ they’re yer poker ‘tells’ . . . Now, what’s tha matta, Becks?” he hums gently. A breath catches in my chest when the callused tip of his finger ghosts along my cheek, replacing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Becks?” he asks once more, and I hear it. I recognize it, because it’s the very emotion threatening to consume the happiness that’s been drenching my insides.

Fear.

“How are we going to do this, Harry?” I question, finally lifting my eyes to his. “I don’t want this to sound bad, because I want this more than anything, so please don’t be upset. I-,” I try to explain, but he doesn’t give me the chance to continue. Unlike all of those times he stepped on my toes when I first met him, he’s doing a fine job of wishing those away with none other than his lips.

His velvety aegean blazer is satiny beneath my fingertips when I gather the front of it into my palms, pulling him closer. I feel his smirk against my lips, but all too soon it’s not long enough and he’s pulling away. His dimples fill my eyes and next, those shiny green eyes consume my sight.

“Jus’ like this, like we’ve been doin’. Behind closed doors, my love,” he mumbles, sealing the words with a soft peck. Those very two words send shivers down my spine, and zings of electricity right to my heart. “I wanna show ya off here, believe me I do, but at work I think ‘s betta if we keep it professional in front o’ e’rybody else,” he explains, and the second the horses leave the gates, I’m nodding along with him. A relieved sigh blankets the air in front of me when I’m graced with the knowledge that he too agrees. “I know it blows and it’ll be hard, but ‘s fer tha best, Becks. Outside o’ work and behind closed doors tho’, anythin’s game . . . Alright?”

“Yeah, I’m more than alright. I was thinking the same thing . . I’m here to be your mentee and to learn from you so I can one day, hopefully, be even half as good of a lawyer as you . . Dating you is just a bonus.”

Scarlet engulfs his golden skin while my favorite song in the entire universe tickles my ears, “I couldn’t agree mo’, li’l one. We got some fun in store fer us, that’s fer sure,” he rasps, pulling me against his front, and there, I melt like I did for the very first time, all those years ago.

I hold onto him tightly, never wanting to let him go.

No, never again, will I. There’s nothing in this world that could ever take him away from me again, I won’t let it.

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