#pea fishing for my beautiful boys! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rederiswrites · 23 days ago

Text

Conversations with Lace

[now up on AO3]

“So you’re gonna go with ‘Rook’, huh?” Lace said it through a mouthful of brown bread and cheese.

“Sure.” Arden scooped another glob of polishing compound up and started buffing out the wing of his knee armor. There was a dent he’d need to have seen next time they were in a big town. The smell of linseed oil and tallow was familiar and grounding.

“You don’t have to. Varric gives everyone nicknames. You can ignore it.”

“No, I uh…I like it.” He scowled down at his work. “Kaffas. This strap is going to break, soon. I think I’m out of replacements.”

“Fine then. Rook.” Lace grinned.

They sat for a minute in companionable silence, Lace finishing her roll, Arden rubbing the polishing cloth in practiced circles over his armor. They’d gotten close quickly over the last couple months, and not just because they were together nearly every day. Both had open, friendly natures, and as they crisscrossed northern Thedas, they’d whiled away the leagues in talk and laughter.

They’d been staggering drunk together in Starkhaven, crawling from bar to bar while Varric took care of business in the palace, and surprised the shit out of would-be muggers. They’d hung upside down in snares together for two hours once after an encounter with one of Solas’s agents. They’d pretended to be Carta thugs for a few days once, while Varric tried to wheedle information out of a provincial Altus landowner, and mocked each other’s acting for weeks.

“Never had a nickname before,” Arden said abruptly.

“What, never? Really?”

“I mean, basic name-calling stuff from the other boys as a kid, but I don’t think that’s the same idea.”

Lace looked surprised. “Your parents didn’t call you something? Like my ma calls me Sweet Pea, that sort of thing?”

“Nope. Just Arden. Young Master Mercar or Arden Maximus if I was about to be in trouble.”

“Wait. Your middle name is Maximus?” A positively evil grin was starting to spread across Lace’s freckled face.

Arden rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, go ahead. I’m well aware it’s incredibly pretentious.”

“Maximus!” By now she was giggling madly.

“Welcome to my childhood.”

“Maker!” Lace giggled at Arden’s disapproving look. “Alright, then, I’ll use Rook. Maximus.”

….

“Do you think they’re real fish?” Arden asked.

They stood side by side, staring into the fish tank. It was beautiful, but Arden found it unsettling. The glass and water distorted the light and made distances strange, but Arden couldn’t decide if he could see a back wall to the tank.

“I mean, I don’t know, but that one’s a Calenhad sunfish. I’ve caught plenty of them. Stupid little wastes of bait.”

“Yeah but what I mean is, is it a real Calenhad sunfish or whatever, or just…I don’t know, like a magic picture of one?”

“No idea. This place is weird.”

“I mean,” Arden went on, “if they’re real, what do they eat? There’s not even a place to put food in.”

Lace glanced up at the corners of the room. “Huh. You’re right. Maybe they’re real, but they live on magic. I dunno.” She left Arden scowling at the fish, and left to poke around the rest of the room. “You thinking of setting up your stuff in here?”

“What? No! Why would I do that?” Arden sounded startled.

“I thought maybe the fish would remind you of the coast.”

“Yeah, a nice seaside vacation at Marnus Pell inside a fish tank. No, I’ll find a nice little room with no windows and no weirdly endless fish tanks and pretend I’m somewhere normal.”

Lace shrugged. “Suit yourself. I like the old sunroom or whatever it was. The dirt makes me feel better.”

Arden grunted an acknowledgement, still frowning at the darting fish.

….

The grinding of stone shifting against stone was deafening for a few seconds. As the last echoes died away, Arden and Lace grinned at each other.

“I did it, Rook!”

“Maferath’s ass, that’s amazing.”

“What about that one? Can you move that one? If it was just a little taller, we could skip up to the next turn of the path.”

Lace concentrated for a second.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Doesn’t feel right.” Arden gave her a quizzical look. “Don’t ask me to explain. I don’t know. There’s just…a feeling. Like some stone talks to me and some is just…stone, I guess.”

Arden shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Give me a second,” Lace said. She moved slowly along the base of the hill, eyes narrowed in concentration. Arden trotted after her, keeping an eye on the woods. Nowhere was completely safe in Arlathan, in his experience.

“Wait! Here!” Lace held out her hands and scowled fiercely, and just ahead of them, a series of rocks rumbled and groaned into motion. When they finally stopped, there was a rough giant’s staircase up to the next turning of the path. “I did it!”

“Fuck yes you did!” Arden’s smile crinkled his eyes up and pulled in the scar on his cheek. “That’s amazing, Lace!” He put out an elbow, leaning on her head in what had become a habitual gesture of teasing affection. “Oh! Uh–” Arden let out something between a whoop and a yelp and staggered sideways.

Lace reached for him, grabbing his arm before he could fall.

“Nope–whup!” Arden listed a couple steps forward, then barely caught himself before falling backwards. “I don’t–” His eyes rolled up in his head, and he keeled over. Spongy wood chips and rollie pollies scattered in a tiny explosion where his head hit a rotten log.

“Rook! Maker’s breath, Rook!” Lace rushed to kneel next to him, grabbing his shoulder. This time, though, she saw the ghostly lines of blue spreading from her hands. She jerked them back as if burned, scrambling away from Arden on hands and knees. “Maker’s breath!”

“Fine! I’m…fine,” Arden said, very unconvincingly. “Hoooo…gimme…second…” On the third try, he managed to roll up on an elbow. “Kaffas. Vishante kaffas.”

“Lyrium! It’s like I’m infused with lyrium! Oh, Maker, he’s lyrium addled. What if it’s permanent! What have I done?”

“Noo I’m betting. Bettering. Getting…better. Getting better! See?” Arden managed to push himself up until he was sitting. “Vishante kaffas,” he repeated, cradling his head in his hands. “‘S like I’m drunk.”

“Sweet Andraste, you scared the shit out of me,” Lace breathed, clutching the ground at her knees.

Arden snorted. “Pretty funny, though.”

“No, it is not! I could have really hurt you! Lyrium is dangerous, Rook!”

“Come on. Li’l bit funny. Ass over teakettle…lookit–lookit these poor bugs.” He gestured to the scattering of spongy orange wood and insects around him. “Like a Titan. Fall on their city–boom!” Arden giggled, ending on a loud snort.

“How in Thedas am I going to get you home?” Lace moaned. “Can’t even touch you. Andraste, give me strength.” She sat back, resigned to waiting it out.

Arden’s head lolled to the side, and he snapped it back upright, wheezing with quiet laughter.

….

“You’re staring,” Lace said quietly.

Arden turned his head away from the other corner of the great hall, where Lucanis was cooking, to look down at her. “I’m not allowed? He’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah? Bellara’s gorgeous. Neve’s gorgeous. I know you like girls, too.”

“Sure. You’re gorgeous. What’s your point?”

“My point is–wait, I’m–oh gosh, no, I’m not–nope! Nope, I’m not letting you distract me like that! My point is that you’re staring at him specifically. Not just because he’s gorgeous.”

“Maybe so.” Arden returned his attention to Lucanis, who was busy chopping vegetables with hypnotic skill.

“Rook, he’s possessed! He’s a possessed assassin!”

“I know. And he’s mourning his grandmother, or at least I’m pretty sure he is. You kind of have to guess, with him. And he’s just been imprisoned and tortured for a year, and now he’s living in our pantry like a rat terrier. And also I’m kind of his boss? Or his employer. That isn’t actually paying him.” Arden pulled a wry face. “Don’t worry. I’m just enjoying looking.”

“I’m not convinced,” Lace said. “Plus, he’s looking, too.”

“He–” Arden sat up suddenly, banging his shin against the little table between them. “Kaffas!” He grabbed his leg, rubbing vigorously. “He’s looking?”

Lace sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you should say more. Really?”

“Mmmmm. Yes, he’s looking at you, sometimes. Why do you care, hmm? I thought you were just enjoying the aesthetics?”

“Alright. There might be a little, tiny crush.”

“I knew it!”

Lucanis glanced over at Lace’s outburst, and she waved him away, smiling unconvincingly. He watched them for a moment longer before turning back to his cooking.

“I knew it,” she hissed again, quieter this time. “Rook, you can’t seriously be thinking of…of whatever.”

“No, I know. I know, Lace. That’s why I’m just looking.”

#I was gonna be good and post on AO3 first #but I got lost in formatting hell and then accidentally backed out of the whole thing #too damn tired to do it again #I'll edit the post in the morning fuck it here it is #dragon age #lace harding #arden mercar #veilguard #veilguard spoilers #stuff red wrote

38 notes · View notes

elliebyrrdwrites · 4 months ago

Text

The Marriage Law Trope part 4

The little guest house is nestled into the far south corner of the property. There’s a pathway that leads from the front gates, winding around the manor, through the gardens, and past the quidditch pitch. It goes along the pond mother had installed before I was born, filling it with koi fish and lining it with cherry blossoms that are charmed with the perfect temperament year round. Every season, the cherry blossoms bloom. Snow and ice cling to the thing branches and the delicate flowers and even I have to appreciate the sheer beauty of it all. Because the pond freezes over and when my mother was younger and I was just a boy, she’d ice skate and pull me around on a sled tied to a string. I don’t remember it, but she swears I loved it.

The path, it snakes its way through the luxurious estate that I was raised on and it leads to a cottage style home that the earth clings to. The moss grows up the side of the white wood slats of planks and the windows are trimmed with aqua green paint and sweet peas that sprout and bloom along the vines that crawl up the sides of the home.

The guest house has three bedrooms. Only the master bedroom has a bed. I can see mother has been inside. Because, while she does her duty as a good little pureblood wife, what she really wants, is the chance of a grandchild. She wants to see me become a father and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why. Because I’m the worst. I was raised by the worst father in history.

But, she has come into this place and gutted the two spare bedrooms. She’s taken away the opportunity for us to both gravitate toward the only room with comfort to sleep in.

You enter the cottage and you find yourself in the middle of a space of clean, white furniture that opens up to a large kitchen with white countertops, white cabinipetry and aqua green accents hidden throughout. Like the thin little lines of x’s that are pressed into the white subway tiles behind the stove. Or the little salt and pepper shakers, or the jar meant to hold flour.

But it’s all white and clean and I look at the inside of this cottage and I want to see splashes of colors that don’t make you feel clean. I see the inside of this house all whit and blank and empty and I have to fight the urge to cut open my hand and smear blood against the walls or the couch.

Down the hall, there’s several doors. First, there’s a bathroom, all white and black tiled with a little picture hanging over the toilet that is an old advertisement for soap in French.

Across from the bathroom, is a guest room that is barren. Just wooden floors that are meant to look old and worn but really, they are brand new. The wood planks continue throughout the entire house and down the hall is a laundry room, beside that is another guest room that is full of boxes.

But at the end of the hallway is the master bedroom. It’s where the large, king sized bed is. The bed sits in the middle of the east well. Night stands on either side. Everything in this room is warm earth tones because on the west wall is a wall made entirely of glass that over looks the woods crowding the edge of the house. There’s a sliding door that opens up to a wooden deck. On the deck, there’s a table and two chairs. There’s a hammock attached to the two moderately young oak trees.

And this is where we will live.

This is where our story will take place.

Because, for now, this is our home.

Granger must hate this. Her entire life has been ripped apart and broken down. It’s been broken down and stuffed into boxes with labels that don’t tell you anything about what she has done or what she had been through.

Her life has been broken down and stuffed into boxes like an after thought.

Books, kitchen. Photos, more books.

There’s boxes of clothes, and boxes of shoes. There’s boxes of Knick knacks and sports equipment. I didn’t even know Granger liked sports.

But her life is here, compartmentalized into boxes and they’re lining the hallway of our new home and it’s fucking frightening. Because it’s me and it’s Granger and she’s my wife and I feel the need to snoop through her boxes because I know nothing about her.

Yes, she’s the Golden Girl.

Yes, she’s a swot.

Yes, she’s bossy and had big hair.

Yes, her tits are superb and her lips could kill me.

But, I know nothing else.

Since we were forced to get engaged, I’ve seen her cry over the idea of marrying me, only to kiss me on our wedding day like it was a long time coming. She kissed me like she’s been doing it for years. I’ve seen her stand up to my father, as if they have some sort of ancient history of rivalry.

And now she’s stomping into the master bedroom where I’ve been checking for traps or bugs meant for spying and she’s pouting like a child.

“What are you doing?”

Currently, I’m checking the floorboards for any trap doors or hiding places. So, I roll onto my back and I blow out a sigh before folding my arms under my head.

She standing over me in her little cut off denims and her big baggy sweater and she’s chewing on her fat little lip and all I can do is recall the way it felt to have it against my mouth.

“What?” I ask and she rolls her eyes and uncrosses her arms. They fall to her side and her eyes roam over me. The way my plain white shirt rides up, revealing the course hairs that lead from my navel, to below the waistband of my pants. They roam over the tattoo that is branded into my arm. They bounce from my eyes to my cheeks. Theirs sallow and sunken. My skin is pale, my eyes are dark and my lips are almost always chapped. I think, once upon a time, I used to be considered attractive, pretty even. But even the most beautiful sculptures made out of the finest stone can wither away if left out in the elements.

But Grangers eyes are hard to read. They’re always bright and sunny, though something tells me they are dulled, worn down from how they used to be. They’re always guarded.

“I can’t transfigure anything into a bed.”

I suck through my front teeth. “McGonagall would be disappointed.”

“I know how to do it, you arse, but nothing will take.”

I sniff and stare up at her. From here, I can almost see up her shorts. There’s enough of a gap between her skin and the denim that there’s an alluring shadowy space that makes me want to reach my hand out and touch her. It’s enough of a gap and enough shadow to let my imagination go wild. I can imagine a freckle on her inner thigh, oddly shaped like a heart.

Fuck.

I’m not supposed to want to fuck my wife. Not when I was going to marry Astoria and definitely not now that I am married to Granger.

But that kiss.

This witch had cursed me and blessed me. Because despite the never ending attack of ants fueled by anxiety, I feel like I’m alive.

Granger is giving me life and purpose and I hate her for it.

I love it.

It feels good, great even.

She’s looking down at me, expectantly. She’s looking at me like I’m supposed to fix this.

“That,” I prop myself up onto my elbows. “Is most likely due to mother’s meddling.”

“What?” She almost laughs at the idea. Because, yes. Narcissa is a dutiful wife and she does her best to back up her husband but, more than anything, she wants a grandchild.

Something tells me that if I were to have a child, it would somehow give her a chance to do things differently.

Like, shower their child with love and protect them from the patriarchal dictator of a father.

“There is only one bed in this house, for a reason, and something tells me that if one of us was to fall asleep on the couch, it would likely kick us off of it.”

Her lips do that thing, again, where it turns into a little rosebud. She’s staring down at me with unreadable emotions flashing quickly, across her face before she sighs and turns to observe the room. she looks at the wall of windows. She looks at the massive bed. The only bed in the entire house.

“I prefer the side closest to the door.”

Grangers head jerks down and her big golden eyes look down at me with that same unreadable expression. That’s when I realize something.

Granger is occluding. And from what I can tell, it’s only something she’s learned how to do recently.

And I know, I know, it’s because she’s married to me.

And that is when I realize that I’ve been letting my walls down and the longer I’m around her, the harder it is to keep them up.

Trust me, I know.

And now I’m living with this witch. It’s like being behind enemy lines, only the war is over and we have been forced together. We’ve been forced into a new kind of war. One that is all our own and we are the only soldiers, the only collateral and I can’t figure out if there’s even a chance of a winner or a loser.

Granger looks at the bed, the only bed, and I see her swallow as she fights to build those walls back up.

I need to stop her. I need to make this a fair fight. If I cannot keep mine up, then neither can she.

I shift onto one elbow and my other hand lifts to her ankle. My hand wraps around it. Her entire ankle fits inside of my hand. It’s a perfect fit.

And she jerks and her eyes return to me. She takes her eyes and she gives them back to me as I tighten my hold on her.

“This is the chain.” I say, glancing back to my hand. “And me,” I look at her and she’s all wide eyed and her lips are parted as she inhales deeply. “I’m the ball.” I slide my hand up, allowing my fingers to open up as it reachers her calf. “You’re stuck with me.”

I tighten my grip on her calf and she jumps out of my grasp. I grin up at her as she takes a step back and glares down at me.

And before she lifts her chin into the air and stomps away, going back to unpacking her life that has been divided and stuffed into boxes, she almost smirks as she says, “This isn’t going to go the way you think it is, Draco.”

Trust me, I know.

Because she slipped again.

To Granger, I am not Malfoy. To Granger, I am not just the boy who teased her in school.

To Granger, I am something else.

30 notes · View notes

cheese-does-art · 3 months ago

Text

huevember day 2

🐡pea pufferrr🐡

referenced from my beautiful baby boi Solar Power 💛💛💛

see more of him here

#huevember #my art #pixel art #64×64 #fish #art #original art #digital art #pixelart #fish drawing #fishblr #pea puffer #pufferfish #huevember 2024 #drawing #art challenge #artists on tumblr #my puff boi Solar Power

18 notes · View notes

mcalhenwrites · 1 year ago

Text

The Hostile Credence excerpt

To go with my posts about dragon lore and characters that I posted yesterday! This hasn't been edited in a long while, and it's a bit old (I wrote it in 2014 or 2015, I think?), so what you read here will be polished up later on. But I like this scene. :) ~~~~~

Ewan let go of Niven’s hand. They knelt on the platform of wood raised a few inches off the walkway. It circled around the marble Pillar. Niven placed his hands on the surface of the stone. Water trickled from the top of it and over his fingertips, down the back of his hand, and down to his elbows in cool veins.

What would he pray for? Everyone had selfish wishes and selfish desires, and Niven could think of several wants. Would the dragons grant him the sword he was saving for? Would Old Wicker ever take a bath so Niven could breathe when he entered the man’s store?

He prayed for the usual good health of the town. He prayed for the two sea dragon lovers, Tessa and Syra, to find one another. The thought that Syra ripped apart the continents to find Tessa always made his heart ache.

He thanked whatever powers had brought Ewan into his birth father’s house, otherwise he might have dehydrated beneath the floorboards.

He hoped Seth’s family would have more money.

And if I can have that sword, too?

Niven withdrew his hands. The sleeves of his tunic were drenched. Ewan took longer to finish his prayers, but when he did, he took out a pouch from a pocket in his pack and stood. Niven followed him to one of the offering bowls. Ewan tipped the pouch and shook out a pea-sized diamond into his palm. He showed it to Niven before tilting his hand over the lip of the bowl and letting the diamond roll in.

“That’s beautiful,” said Niven.

“Yes. The rest is for you.” Ewan emptied the pouch into Niven’s hand. There were two gold nuggets left, and Niven dropped them in next to the diamond.

Ewan took his hand and they walked another stone pathway through the forest, their way lined with herbs and lilies.

The Spicewood was a misty, cool place with waterfalls, streams, and even a few lakes. Ferns, herbs, and anemones decorated the forest floor, and thick-trunked trees towered high above them. Ewan often referred to it as a temperate rainforest.

Dragonflies, slugs, and thick beetles accompanied them on the path to the temple. Niven took care not to step on them, especially the slugs almost as large as his forearm. A fuzzy cat dashed from the temple steps to greet them. It rubbed against Niven’s leg.

Niven wanted to pet it, but Ewan kept tugging him along—not that he wasn’t gentle about it, but Niven didn’t have time to pause. His attention left the feline when they passed beneath the stonework of a large dragon with ferns growing from various parts of its body. The moss covering the engraving added to the details rather than obscured them.

“That’s Tempra,” said Ewan.

“She’s so green!”

“She was scraped clean last time I was here."

“Oh.”

“Don’t forget to take off your shoes.”

Niven and Ewan stripped their boots and socks. Everyone within the temple walked barefoot. They set them—along with the other shoes belonging to guests—on the sides of the steps, just under the stone ceiling where they would not be rained on.

The foliage behind them looked more vivid as the sunlight dimmed away to darkness. Niven inhaled deeply only to have a sneezing fit from the overwhelming scent of herbs.

“You silly boy,” said Ewan affectionately, handing him a handkerchief. “No one can take in the Spicewood all at once.”

Inside the temple, it was not so bad—the building was partially submerged, and much of it smelled like cool earth. There was a pond in the middle of the basement as they went down the stairs from the main floor to the second. Priestesses and priests carried basins and bowed to the father and son as they passed.

Niven knelt by the water’s edge to stare at the colorful fish.

A priestess paused. “Would you like to feed them?” she asked Niven. She stuck her thin fingers into a bag tied to her belt and withdrew a handful of pellets.

Niven took them, rolling one around in his palm and giving it a sniff. It reeked strongly of dried fish.

“Blech.”

The priestess laughed. “You’re not going to eat it, they are.” She pointed to the long-whiskered fish beneath the surface.

7 notes · View notes

welcomehomerandomness · 1 year ago

Text

Welcome Home Randomness Masterlist 2

[SPOILERS] "Happy Haunting to Boo and Yours" Storybook Record but it is just the three best characters talking :)

[SPOILERS] Hidden Halloween video but the scary part is just Wally slowly losing his mind

My reaction to that information (Halloween edition)

Unemployed people at 02:51 on a Tuesday (+bonus cursed meme)

My little princesses :D

Welcome Home characters as cursed bedrooms

A follower lost their life

Don't make Frank mad (WARNING: Loud volume!!!)

I found something weird on Home…

Sunny and Frank's (NOT) Fireworks Date

Choose only one Welcome Home group

This or that? (WH Edition)

Me looking for more puppet projects be like

I think we're gonna have to kill this guy, Pillar-san…

Welcome Home characters as Christmas trees

Welcome Home theories be like

If a Welcome Home character is popular in 2019: Wally, Barnaby, Julie, Frank, Eddie, Howdy, Sally, Poppy

Welcome Home characters and their favorite chocolate

Spotify Wrapped Meme (WH Edition)

Welcome Home Website Mini-Update Reaction (12/26/2023)

Aftermath of Home's Christmas Tree

The Plush Adventures of Wally Darling 1 2

Welcome Home as Luke Correia videos Parts 1 2

A shopkeeper, a manga artist, and a jujutsu sorcerer were driving down the road…

Welcome Home characters and their favorite Sanrio characters

Choose your Welcome Home bootleg plushie

A trip to The Playfellow Exhibition

Welcome Home but Wally and the neighbors have a tank

I made an edit of the most underrated characters of Welcome Home

Welcome Home characters as kpop songs

Thank You (January 24, 2024 Birthday Message)

Plush Wally the Fairy Princess

Welcome Home characters and their Smash Bros mains

Welcome Home characters and their favorite Just Dance maps

Never give Poppy a laptop

Wally's so mentally stable it's insane

Welcome Home Teletubbies

Welcome Home Drip

Welcome Home March 8 Update Meme

Welcome Home characters as cursed gaming setups

POV: Wally doxxes you

Welcome Home Website Update Reaction Notes (3/9/2024) (SPOILERS) Parts 1 2

I accidentally predicted something…

"OMG my baby is so beautiful!!!" (Welcome Home Meme)

The Official Barnaby B. Beagle Makeship Plush Toy ad but I edited it (WARNING: Loud sounds and music)

[SPOILERS] "Howdy's Holiday Hullaballoo" Record but every time someone gets introduced, it gets faster

Project Sekai but every time my favorite character talks, the unit switches (April Fools)

BanG Dream! but every time my favorite character talks, the unit switches (April Fools)

Welcome Home characters as hilarious test answers

It's Homewarming Time!

Welcome Home Sally's Silly Theater Parts 1 2

Is this ham processed?

Happy birthday Clown and happy 1st anniversary to the welcomehomerandomness Instagram account!!!

Frank, Eddie, and Howdy go on a drive

Welcome Home characters as hilarious signs

Frank and Sally's Homewarming Teleserye Fight

How I think Welcome Home characters scream (WARNING: Loud screams)

Welcome Home characters dance to Karma by JoJo Siwa

Welcome Home as Smule TikToks (WARNING: Loud sounds)

Neighborhood Boyz song cover debut

Fwank's siwwy suwgewy owo

Welcome Home characters as cursed cat images

[SPOILERS] HOME, IS THAT YOU???

The Plush Adventures of Barnaby B. Beagle (ft. Wally Darling)

Even though I love Welcome Home, I still love these

How I think Welcome Home characters sneeze

Giving you a random object based on your favorite Welcome Home character

The Welcome Home characters are the new emotions in Inside Out 2 (Meme)

Welcome Home Murder Mystery Pause Game

Welcome Home but the other houses are sentient

My brain currently… (Meme)

My idol unit but it's my favorite characters from different fandoms (what have I created…)

What is the national tree of the Philippines? (Meme)

Welcome Home characters as cursed toys

Eddie Dear hates the French Peas from Veggietales so much

My homemade Wally Darling patch

There's a stranger (Meme)

Wally Darling and the boys go on a fishing trip

Welcome Home Questions Game 2024

Welcome Home Halloween 2024 Update Reaction (SPOILERS)

[SPOILERS] Everyone goes to group therapy (as of 10/18/2024)

[SPOILERS] Looky-Loo: Brick by Brick but it is just the three best characters talking :)

The Neighborhood Boyz have their first concert

Welcome Home characters as cursed shirts

The neighbors try the "hear me out" cake trend

Frank has enough of Barnaby, Howdy, and Sally

Welcome Home Homewarming Update deleted scene

Howdy and Wally fight over Barnaby (the music video)

The most emotional Frank x Eddie video ever!!!

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #julie joyful #frank frankly #eddie dear #howdy pillar #sally starlet #poppy partridge #welcome home home

6 notes · View notes

gwendolynlerman · 3 years ago

Text

How lovers call each other around the world

What makes lovers bloom in the most beautiful colors of their deepest inner feelings is a grave insult for 99% of all people around them.

Disclaimer: This is not a comprehensive list. I chose the weirdest/funniest terms.

Afrikaans: bokkie (little buck)

Arabic: بصري [basari] (my eyesight)

Catalan: colomí/colometa (pidgeon)

Dutch: dropje (little licorice), mopje (little joke)

English: “pumpkin”, “sweet pea”

Finnish: kulta (gold), muru (breadcrumb)

French: ma puce (my flea), mon chou (my cabbage)

German: Hase (bunny), Maus (mouse)

Indonesian: jantung hatiku (my heart and liver)

Irish: a leanbh (my child), mo chuisle (my pulse)

Italian: biscottino (little biscuit), microbino mio (my little microbe)

Japanese: 卵方の顔 [tamago hō no kao] (egg with eyes)

Korean: 우리강아지 [u-ri gang-a-ji] (my puppy)

Mandarin: 沉鱼落雁 (chényú luòyàn) ([beautiful enough to] make fish sink and birds alight), 心肝 [xīngān] (heart-liver)

Persian: باشد که یک موش شما را بخورد [bashed keh ak mewsh shema ra bekhewred] (May a mouse eat you)

Polish: misiu (little bear), okruszku (breadcrumb), rybko (little fish)

(Brazilian) Portuguese: chuchuzinho (little pumpkin)

Russian: лапочка [lapochka] (paw), рыбка [rybka] (little fish), голубчик/голубушка [golubchik/golubushka] (little pidgeon)

Spanish: cielo (sky), gordo/a (fat boy/girl)

Swedish: söt kanin (cute bunny)

Thai: ช้างน้อย [cĥāngn̂x/chang noi] (elephant)

Tibetan: སྙིང་སྡུག་ལགས། [nyingdu-la] (most honored poison of my heart)

Turkish: patlıcanım (my eggplant)

993 notes · View notes

ceilingfan5 · 4 years ago

Text

Safe Harbor

“Lighthouses,” the tour guide drawls, “Aren’t just pretty pictures on calendars. They’re a beacon in the darkness, symbols of hope, all that jazz. But they’ve also literally got a job to do, even today.”

His name is Taako, and unlike the other lighthouse keepers Kravitz has seen on this tour his moms dragged him into, he’s about Kravitz’s age, and he’s beautiful. Kravitz hangs on every word, even though a lot of them are recycled from the other tours. There’s only so much a guy can learn about lighthouses. He tried to tell his moms this, but they just laughed and kept taking windswept pictures. He’s almost ready to thank them, though, for the privilege of getting to spend the better part of an hour in Taako’s intimate radius.

There’s not a lot of personal space in a lighthouse.

“You lot seem familiar with the poetry. I’ll skip the rest. This gorgeous beastie has been around for almost two hundred years, despite the ocean’s best attempts on her life. And she’s got something special.”

Kravitz read the pamphlet, but he asks anyway.

“What’s special about it?”

“You can divine the future from all the damn bird shit on the ground,” Taako deadpans, and then laughs at his own joke. Kravitz laughs too, so incredibly, foolishly charmed. “Nah, it’s a whole thing. Every lighthouse has got a characteristic, yeah? A pattern for the light so you know who’s who and where’s where? This one’s characteristic is a flash of one, one-two-three-four, one-two-three.”

Kravitz blinks.

“Cool?”

Taako grins. Kravitz’s moms look at each other and laugh. Kravitz had almost forgotten they were there again. Taako holds up his fingers as he spells out:

“One, four, three. I l-o-v-e y-o-u.”

Kravitz’s cheeks burn about as bright as the giant night-light above their heads.His moms awwww behind them.

“They were actually going to change it, and the community got way upset, like, ahh, I took my soulmate here when we first dated, you can’t do that, so they didn’t.”

“Wow,” Kravitz says, fully aware he sounds like a big dumb idiot. “Love wins.”

Taako snickers.

“Yeah, guess so. Hey, you crew wanna see the top?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I can do the stairs on this one,” Raven says, and Istus nods as seriously as she can manage. “My knees, you know.”

Traitors. Or wingladies? The world may never know.

“I’ll go with you,” Kravitz volunteers. “It’s. Cool to see the view.” He doesn’t like heights. This is a lie to talk to a pretty boy for a little bit longer. But Taako grins and leads him up the terrifying stairs, so...he wins? Taako rattles off more facts as they spiral upwards, seemingly more excited now, and Kravitz tries not to swoon, because those stairs forgive no sins, no sins whatsoever.

“So you’ve already been on a few of these tours, you’ve probably heard all the hot deets, you know, about tallow versus lard and wicks and glass chimneys, right? Fresnel lenses and all that?”

Kravitz nods, which he realizes Taako can’t see.

“Yeah, they’re also in, um.” There’s so many fucking stairs. “Car headlights.”

“Smart boy.” Kravitz gets the firm impression Taako would be winking at him if he could. His cheeks burn even brighter. He’ll guide the ships back home with his fucking face. “So I won’t bore you with all that. But I will bore you with this--did you know magic likes significant places?” He doesn’t wait for a response, mercifully letting Kravitz just climb the stairs. “And high places, too. The grip of reality is thin. And you know, sometimes, sometimes you can see things.”

Kravitz figures if he sees anything funky, it’s probably his body warning him he’s about to pass out after climbing up God’s asshole, but he keeps that to himself. Taako seems to believe it. Kravitz will pretend it’s a real thing for Taako. Gorgeous Taako.

“You don’t have a soulmate yet, do you?” Taako finally gets to the top, and he turns and offers Kravitz a hand. It feels incredibly significant. He takes it, of course, and Taako helps him up to the very top of the lighthouse. The eye of the beast glitters brightly as it slowly turns, massive and celestial in a way that leaves Kravitz reverent.

“No,” he says, editing out what gave it away, the fact that I’m on vacation with my moms?

“Cool,” Taako says, with a gap-toothed grin. “Check out that view.”

Kravitz doesn’t want to look at the view, but obediently, he turns, and he sees the world and the ocean spread out before him, glistening and inviting, and he squeezes Taako’s hand tightly as vertigo grips him by the guts and shakes him like a doll. His life flashes before his eyes--no, not his life, another man’s life, and he’s out on the sea in a little fishing boat, and he’s made the worst and definitely last mistake of his life. The storm is rolling in like a train made of pea soup, and he knows, knows deep down in his soul, he’s going to die. There’s no way he’ll find the shore again.

And then he turns, and there’s a light in the darkness, hope against the hopeless sea, flashing once, four times, three times. His love is guiding him home, and he paddles like his sorry life depends on it. And it does. He crashes on those vulturous rocks, and he imagines he’s gone and died after all, and he wakes up in a tiny bed, a man with beautiful eyes bringing him something to eat.

“I do feel awful about your boat,” he says, in a familiar voice. “But I knew you’d come back to me.”

Kravitz hurls back to the present and almost loses his clam chowder lunch about it, but Taako steadies him. Those eyes, those familiar eyes, glittering like the sea, they guide him back to reality. A beacon of hope, and all that jazz.

“What did you see?” Taako begs, absolutely thrilled. “Did you see your soulmate?”

“Yeah,” Kravitz whispers, so lightheaded and terrified and confused and happy he could just combust. “Yeah, I did.”

#taakitz #taakitz fic #taz #tazb #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #long post #sorry this is long it took me a bit to get to the point #okay so listen. ive been watching modern marvels on youtube and it makes me feel things okay. tonights episode was about (guess) lighthouse #anyway brrrrrrrr #fan5fics

202 notes · View notes

1ddiscourseoftheday · 4 years ago

Text

Wed 2 June ‘21

Louis sent a message to a fan looking for a hello after a major surgery-- “Get well soon mate. Sending you loads of love x”- and added that he hopes ALL of us are doing alright; I never doubted it Louis! Niall got a little more specific with his really lovely message today- “HAPPY PRIDE MONTH, BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE. It’s your life, LOVE who you want to LOVE,” he tweeted! THANKS GUYS.

Liam though, Liam was all over today! He checked in on his way to play golf, on his way back from playing golf (with videographer Conor!), posted comments on discord, joined a new chat platform (Telegram; 5 minutes into Telegram and chill Liam was like OKAY it looks like we may need some moderators for this app lol YOU THINK?), he did a whole 25 min live, AND checked in even later to say he’d just had a shower and was about to play a new video game! New news of the day-- he is going to host a Veeps show showcasing new artists in July!! NEAT! His post about how his team forgot to turn off notifications on the phone they set it all up on for him on is really funny, YIKES; “this used to be an iphone now it’s just a bell” he joked, with video of the phone frantically chiming nonstop (“the power of you guys still blows my mind to this day”.) Also he said that he was very busy getting ready for June 15. Why, you ask, what is on June 15? UH? IDK?? He has so many things coming up? But that’s the NFT I think, which I KNOW a lot of people are mostly not that excited about but I will say that while I don’t care about the technology, I am excited to see Liam’s artwork he’s working on for it (which hopefully the purchaser will share with us), and Liam is truly so excited about the platform, he’s really trying to talk us into it. More on that in a sec...

But let’s get to the other parts of Liam’s live first. He has that new song coming, about which he said “it’s one that I’ve written the most on so far actually, as a single, I’m excited to say my own stuff for once a little”, love that. He’s still coughing but says he’s tested repeatedly and it isn’t COVID, and that he’s gone vegetarian recently, and he says the chat channels were inspired by seeing people using the veeps chat rooms even after the show ended, not wanting to leave. And he talks about 1D- about the notifs mishap he said “back in the band we used to wait for people we didn’t like to leave their notifications on and then we would like- oh make sure you follow this person on twitter! And then their phone would break for days- if someone did something that annoyed you.” HAHAHA where’s my masterpost of people who annoyed them 1D told us to follow, PLEASE? And also “it’s hard sometimes you’re watching people stories from afar that you used to know so well and that can be difficult… we’ve all felt this at different times me and the boys… it’s almost like missing a very dear friend a lot of the time but everyone’s so busy… I’d love to get us all in a room somewhere sometime” aww. But also he said he talked to Harry recently, “really a lovely call, he has a sixth sense for if I'm struggling or if one of us is in trouble, I spoke to him and it was a really lovely catch up. I have a lot of love for the man, he's really, really great"; well I wish Liam wasn’t stuggling but that’s lovely. And Louis too! "I spoke to Louis, I wanna say yesterday. We speak a lot, there's just a lot of laughing about random crap," he said, plus some Louis memories- “I can just hear his laugh in the back of my mind. We once broke into one of the stadiums in America and got chased by a woman… on one of those cop type things, a mall cop thing, and that was quite crazy. He also left me on my own while I was being arrested nearly by a French policemen that I had to push over… which that still scares me to this day. [laughing] That’s what friends are for! I helped him over the fence to get in somewhere, he left me with the policeman, who didn’t have a clue who I was and tried to arrest me even though I was just trying to go into my hotel.” UMM sorry I can’t hear anything past LIAM PUSHED OVER A COP?? Go ahead, make a list of ‘1D members most likely to fight a cop’ and if Liam isn’t DEAD LAST you’re just wrong and yet HERE WE ARE!! WHAT A DAY.

But alas rather than fighting cops now Liam is partnering with an entrepreneur (which I have had to type so many times in the last two days thanks to Liam that I guess I know how to spell it now they just keep SAYING it SO MUCH). Steve Bartlett said “the secret” is out, he recorded a podcast with Liam yesterday-- I’d call secret a bit strong, we had actually got that mate, but okay; he called Liam an entrepreneur and said “yesterday I recorded one of the most powerful, honest, REAL conversations on my podcast to date” and “if you love Liam you’ll love this.” I can absolutely guarantee you that is not true, I love Liam and already hate everything about this collab, but his wording does make me think we’ll get a bit of Liam’s trademark emotional spillage which I suppose I might appreciate despite this self help CEO guy being there too. Liam does have one thing to say that could sway me in this guy’s favor though- “he has the cutest dog ever” apparently! Anyway I may as well get used to him he’s suddenly everywhere-- Liam also patched him into his live to try yet again to convince us that NFTs are good by awkwardly relating it to “fans of boybands” by saying you know this could eliminate like fake tickets and such… Sure Steve sure but anyway he also says of Liam, “the guy you see on camera is the exact same guy off camera”.

Harry and Olivia were seen together in London (well, a grainy ass video of their backs was seen anyway), walking, with some people who look to be her parents and Harry’s PA (so romantic! Not at all work related!) I was initially skeptical of the claim that it was her parents since this fandom is obsessed with saying everyone is so and so’s parents (we’ll NEVER top the time the fandom was sure Harry was seen having lunch with Eleanor’s father though) but it actually seems like maybe it was. More for Harry to add to his collection, that man truly loves an extended family! I mean the whole thing is sketchy as hell, from the assurance that that’s DEFINITELY actually Olivia in the grainy video, FOR SURE, to the confirmation that that’s her mom with them which came when a blank insta page produced a random old picture of her mom in the same skirt, but like is it them, sure I imagine so, and people making sure we get the story anytime they’re together isn’t exactly new. In other news, Dave Meyers, director of the Adore You music video, says he originally pitched the Eroda story idea (“I have this idea, of you love- liking a fish”) to Katy Perry and the Black Eyed Peas, ASJKJASKL CAN YOU IMAGINE?

#Liam payne #holivia #harry styles #niall horan #louis tomlinson #2 jun 21 #the day we learned Liam fought a cop #HAPPY PRIDE INDEED #conor butler #liam has ALWAYS just spoken to louis yesterday but I totally belive him look at them doing all the same stuff #new artist showcase! this is totally them talking about this stuff #and he's totally the one that got Louis on the NFT thing #that's cute you guys now write some songs together again why don't you #I guess Harry could be tie for least likely to fight a cop #but like he wouldn't be out there talking about how great cops are which Liam definitely would #Liam is of course Most likely to be wasted enough for something like that to happen anyway #which I assume is what was the case

175 notes · View notes

thetravelerwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Alexei (Satyr) Part 1

Rating: Mature Relationships: Female Human/Male Satyr Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Satyr, Arranged Marriage, Fake Marriage, Strangers to Lovers, Reader Insert Words: 5834

A commission for @thebimess! A woman escaping an arranged marriage proposes an unusual agreement with a man she just met: marry her for six months to get out of the marriage contract. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Being on the road was rather terrifying for a woman traveling on her own, but you weren’t wavering in your intent. You had to get to Dunmountain and disappear. You didn’t care if you lived in a hovel shoveling shit for a living, you weren’t marrying that man. Not in a million years.

A few days on the road sleeping rough hadn’t done much to deter you, though it was cold and uncomfortable. You managed to get to Chesterfield long enough to buy road provisions and get rid of your old clothes, but you didn’t want to stay there too long. You didn’t know if they’d have people out looking for you.

You ached for a bath and a bed. You didn’t realize how much you’d taken being clean and comfortable for granted. And it looked like rain tonight. You figured the horses wouldn’t mind a bunk mate.

As you were coming around to go into the stables, it began to rain rather hard. As you ducked in, the stablehand shouted at you.

“Oy! Get out of here! No homeless wenches sleeping in here for free. Go get a room or sleep in a gutter!”

“Oh, but sir--”

“No buts! Out with you!”

You had no choice but to duck back out of the stable and into the pouring rain. You went around the back, praying that there was a cart you could sleep under.

Instead of a cart, there was a lovely lavender vardo parked there. The front and rear doors were locked, but there was a window. It was small, but you thought you could squeeze through. And if you got stuck, at least half of you would be dry.

The shutters had a latch on the inside, but it was easy enough to open with a hair stick. Using the wheel as a boost, you threw your bag inside and jumped up. Getting your shoulders through was the hardest part, and your hips were a bit of a struggle, but finally you fell to the floor of the vardo like a spilled sack of potatoes. Slightly bruised, you re-latched the shutter windows and looked around.

It was fairly neat and tidy, looking a bit larger on the inside that it did on the outside, with things secured safely to the walls and inside trunks. The walls had beautiful filigree scrolling all the way up and the roof had a lovely fresco of a countryside near a body of water, the field full of flowers. There were things that hung along the ceiling, making gentle jingling noises as the vardo moved.

There was a small cot latched up against the wall that would fold down. Wearily, you folded it down, pulled out your cloak, which was still dry in your bag, and laid it over the cot to prevent the wet from your clothes from seeping through, and settled down on it. You’d deal with the owner in the morning. If you weren’t arrested for trespassing, that is.

Once you were horizontal, you fell asleep immediately.

You were awakened rudely when you felt water being poured on your face. You sputtered and shielded your face, sitting up abruptly.

“Ah, the stowaway is awake at last,” You heard a masculine voice say. “Since you seem to have had a nice rest, you can get out now.”

You wiped the water out of your eyes and looked up. Standing there was a satyr with deep brown fur on his legs and tan skin. With his short, black horns jutting up just behind his hairline, you thought he might be only slightly shorter than you. He had hair the same dark color as his fur and bright blue eyes, a closely trimmed beard and mustache, and dimples you could see even with the beard. He wore no trousers, covered by his fur, but had on an off-white tunic and a buttoned-up brick red vest with gold embroidery. His cloven hooves were shiny black and dainty.

“I’m sorry,” You said, coughing and sniff the water out of your nose. “I’m sorry, I just needed a dry place to sleep.”

“And so you did,” He said, putting his water skin aside and folding his arms. “I’ve been on the road for hours now, and I didn’t know you were back here until I stopped for lunch. So, you’ve had your sleep. Get out.”

“Which way have you traveled?”

“I’m halfway to Red Landing,” He said.

“No!” You moaned, your head in your hands. “It took me so long to get to Chesterfield from Red Landing. That’s almost a full day backwards!”

“That’s not my problem,” He huffed. “You’re the one who trespassed in what is ostensibly my home.”

“Can I pay you to take me back to Chesterfield? I’ll give you ten gold. That has to be enough to ferry me for a few hours.”

He sighed sharply. “I mean… I guess? I don’t owe you any favors, you know.”

“No, I know,” You replied, fishing around in your bag. “Here,” You pressed ten coins into his hand. “It’s not much for inconveniencing you, I know, but I don’t have much as it is.”

He bounced the coins in his hand, frowning down at them.

“What’s so important in Chesterfield?” He asked.

“I’m not going to Chesterfield, I’m going to Dunmountain,” You replied. “Do you really care why?”

He snorted. “I guess not. Fine, fine. You’ve already taken up too much of my time, I might as well get paid for it.” He snatched up your bag and began looking through it.

“Hey!” You said, grabbing the bag back. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making sure you didn’t steal anything of mine while you were in here,” He retorted. “Let me see or I’ll dump you off right here.”

You scoffed, but held open your bag so that he could see inside, refusing to let it go. He shuffled things around and you waited anxiously until he was satisfied and straightened up.

“You’re not riding in here,” He said. “Get up in the driver’s box. I want to be able to watch you.”

“Alright,” You said, standing and following him out of the back of the vardo and led you to the front. “What’s your name?”

“You don’t need to know my name and I don’t need to know yours,” He said, vaulting up and not offering his hand. You were forced to clamor up the opposite side. “Once we get to Chesterfield, I expect to never see you again.”

“Fair enough,” You said, hunkering down in the driver’s box, sitting as far away from him as you could, and fell silent as the carriage lurched forward.

He pulled out a small bag of puffed grains and dried fruits and began to munch on them as the vardo trundled on, the lone mule’s head bobbing up and down as it took each step. You took out a small amount of hard cheese and nibbled on it.

“I’ll trade you a bite of cheese for a handful of your trail snacks,” You told him.

He shrugged. “Sure,” He replied, taking the morsel of cheese you offered him and pouring some of the grains and fruits in your palm.

“What were you going to Red Landing for?” You asked him.

He looked at you sidelong before answering. “I was going to buy some shells to make paint.”

“Are you a painter?” You asked.

“Yes,” He replied.

“Did you do the scrollwork and the fresco in the vardo?”

“I did.”

“Wow,” You replied, impressed. “It’s really good work. I mean, I’m not an expert, but I enjoyed it very much.”

“I don’t know what weight the praise of a trespasser might carry, but thank you all the same.”

You bristled. “I said I was sorry. And I’ve paid you. There’s no reason to be rude.”

That effectively killed conversation and your appetite. You put your food back in your bag and sat still and quiet, staring at the trees as they passed.

After an hour, the vardo stopped, and you looked at the satyr for the first time since his quip.

“Why have we stopped?” You asked.

“Shh,” He replied. “Listen. Do you hear that?”

You strained your hearing. “I just hear birds and the trees rustling.”

“Stay here,” He said, throwing down the reins and jumping down. “If you run off with my stuff, I’ll hunt you down.”

“I’m not going to run off, relax,” You said in annoyance.

He sniffed and walked into the trees and out of sight. You waited nervously for him to return, clutching your bag against your body, until eventually you heard a sniffling and whimpering. The satyr emerged from the trees carrying what you thought was a dog at first, but on closer inspection, it was wearing a shirt and pants.

“Oh, my goodness!” You cried, putting down your bag and hopping down. “Are you alright, little one!”

He whined much like a puppy. You reached from him, and he crawled into your arms, hiding his snout in your hair.

“I haven’t been able to get much out of him,” The satyr said. “But I remember the sheriff in Willowridge is a gnoll and has a couple of young sons. The crossroads to Willowridge is nearby. We may be making a detour.”

“That’s just fine, isn’t it?” You cooed to the little gnoll boy. “That’s no problem, eh? Let’s get you home, sweet pea. I’ve got some jerky in my bag. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” The boy said watery.

“Alright, sweetie pie, let’s get you some food, then.” You popped back up into the driver’s box with the boy clinging to you like a baby possum. The satyr got back up and snapped the reins, pushing the mule to movement.

After he ate, he seemed a bit more calm, and you were able to get him to talk to you. You learned that his name was Declan and he was indeed the youngest son of Willowridge’s sheriff, Feera. He was three years old and apparently a sleepwalker, having woken up in the forest a little while before the satyr heard him crying. How he managed to cross so much land in his sleep was unimaginable, but at least he was heading home now.

It didn’t take long for him to become rambunctious, and the satyr pulled Declan into his lap and let him take the reins. Declan squealed happily as he wiggled the reins back and forth. The mule was patient and didn’t take off when he felt the slapping on his back.

After a while, he fell asleep in the satyr’s arms. The satyr cradled him while still keeping a firm hand on the reins.

“You’re good with kids,” You remarked.

He shrugged. “I grew up around a bunch of kids, so I’m used to handling them.”

“Do you have a lot of younger siblings?”

“Something like that,” He replied.

As you rounded the bend, Willowridge came into view. You’d only been there once when you were ten when your father was still a builder. He’d retired from construction just afterward.

“Hey, Declan!” You said, tickling him awake. “Look, you’re home!”

Declan woke up in the satyr’s arms and looked around, his ears perking up. He yipped excitedly.

“Oy!” The satyr called out. “Anyone missing a kid?”

“Oh, thank goodness!” An older woman said, running out from a nearby trail. She was wearing trousers and had long brown hair with wisps of white in it. “Where have you been, you naughty thing! We’ve been looking for you everywhere! You come to Gramma right this instant!” She took the little boy from the satyr’s arms and hugged him tight. She turned and called to a large centaur that was next to her. “Can you go and fetch Eris and Feera?”

“Yes, Mama,” He said, and he dashed off with a flick of his tail.

“Thank you two so much,” She said, reaching up to shake your hand.

“Oh, it was all him,” You said. “He heard Declan crying in the forest.”

“Keen hearing,” The satyr said, flicking his long ears. “Alexei, pleasure to meet you, madam.” You introduced yourself as well.

“My name is Ryel. Let me buy you folks dinner and a bed for the evening. It’s the least I can do. Who knows what might have happened to Declan if you two hadn’t found him.

As you were about to answer, a large gnoll and a woman with a river of golden hair flying behind her sprinted toward you. The gnoll was on all fours and much faster than the woman, who was clutching her skirts in her fists so she didn’t trip on them as she ran. Running at her side was another gnoll child, slightly bigger than Declan.

“Declan!” The gnoll cried out, and Ryel handed the boy off to his father as soon as he skidded to a stop and reared up on his hind legs. “By the gods, son, you scared the life out of me!”

The woman, Eris, stopped next to her husband, her face wet with tears, and she took the boy without a word, squeezing him tight and crying silently. Feera encircled both of them in his arms and held them for a moment. The other gnoll boy stood with his grandmother, holding her hand and biting at one of his claws in wide-eyed confusion.

After a moment, Feera let go of his wife and approached you.

“Thank you, strangers,” He said, reaching up to shake your hands like his mother had.

“It’s my pleasure, sir,” Alexei replied, shaking firmly.

“Please, let me buy the two of you a drink,” Feera said, waving over a stable boy from the nearby tavern. “We’ll take your mule and cart and make sure they’re both taken care of. Are you folks hungry?”

The family ushered you and Alexei into the inn and sat you down at a table, ordering ale and a meal for everyone. Eris had a firm grip on her youngest son and an arm around her oldest. Declan now seemed to be completely over his sojourn into the woods by himself, though his parents still seemed slightly traumatized by it.

“That’s the farthest he’s ever gone,” Eris said. She was a taciturn woman who didn’t smile much, which made her appear rather stern. “We’re usually good about keeping everything locked up tight. I still don’t know how he got out. We’ve even nailed the windows closed.”

“Who knows?” Feera said, rubbing his wife’s back soothingly. “He could have shimmied out of the slats in the attic. Looks like I’ll have to nail that shut too.”

“Here you go, dearies,” The innkeeper said, laying a key on the table. “Here’s your room for the night. The bed is nice and big, so you’ll both be comfortable.”

“Oh,” Alexei said. “No, we’re not together. I was giving her a ride. I hadn’t met her before today.”

“Oh,” The innkeeper said, dismayed. “I’m afraid I only have the one room available right now.”

“That’s alright, we’ll take it. Thank you for your generosity,” You said, taking the key and smiling. In an undertone, you said to Alexei, “It’s fine, I’ll sleep on the floor, it’s no big deal.”

He grimaced but said nothing.

That night, you unrolled your bedroll and got ready to lay down. He had taken the bed, since you offered it, and was already half asleep. He had taken off his vest but left his tunic on. You stared at him thoughtfully, debating with yourself.

“Alexei,” You called.

He snorted and opened his eyes, looking over at you blearily. “What?”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Would you marry me?”

His eyes shot open and he stared at the ceiling for a full minute before sitting up to glare at you.

“What?”

“Look, I know it’s a weird thing to ask--”

“It’s a crazy thing to ask!”

“Can I just explain myself before you think I’m crazy?”

“It’s too late for that, but please, go ahead.” He sat with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed and his hands clasped in his lap, looking at you expectantly.

“I’m escaping an arranged marriage,” You began bluntly. “I was only told of the engagement three days prior to leaving home. I met him at a dinner the night before what was to be our wedding day for the first time. You could not imagine a more boorish, rude, inept man.”

“I bet I could.”

You snorted. “He did nothing but drink wine during the dinner, leering at both me and the serving staff and making rather unseemly comments about my face and body, considering he’d only just met me. His parents just shushed him, but in a dismissive, boys-will-be-boys kind of way that made me want to tear my hair out.”

“When was this whole thing set up?”

“I’d apparently been promised to him since I was five years old. His family is rich from textile money, but they have a less that immaculate reputation. His parents need the respectability that my family’s name offers in order to regain many of their clients and trade routes.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s the son’s, my so-called husband-to-be’s, fault. I learned through conversation with his parents that he didn’t work in his family business at all and traveled quite often on his parent’s dime. After they had gotten rather drunk, his parents admitted that he had already fathered two children out of wedlock that they knew of.”

His head rocked back. “That’s concerning. Are your parents still on board with the wedding?”

“Yes. Part of the deal is a large investment from my fiance’s parents; my parents need the money to retire.”

“So you decided to escape in the middle of the night, is that it?”

You nodded. “Thankfully, my parents hadn’t paid the officiant yet, and therefore the wedding hadn’t been formally recorded with the county as a done-deal, so I decided to leave until the contract ran its course. I knew where my parents kept their money and only took what I thought I would need to get to Dunmountain. They aren’t exactly rich, after all, just well-respected. I plan to pay them back at some point. I just pray they understand.”

“So, you’re asking me to marry you to get out of the engagement?”

“Yes,” You said. “The contract is void if I turn twenty five before the wedding or if I have been married to someone else for a minimum of six months with verifiable proof. Meaning I have to have both my husband and the marriage certificate in hand and meet with a mediator to authenticate it. And since twenty five is three years away, the only hope I have of freedom is to marry someone else.”

He folded his arms. “And exactly what do I get out of this? Six months is a long time to be stuck with a stranger, you know.”

“I know. I’ll give you every penny I have. Wherever we end up, I’ll pick up jobs. I’ll pay for everything. I’ll cook and clean. You won’t have to lift a finger. I’ll do whatever I can to make this as painless for you as possible, and then when it’s over, we can have the marriage annulled and you never have to see me again.”

He considered you for a long moment, chewing his lip.

“I know it’s sudden and out of the blue,” You continued. “But I’m desperate and willing to put my trust, and money, in a stranger.”

He sighed and raked his fingers through his beard. “Look, give me a day to consider it. This is a lot for me to process.”

“Alright,” You said. “Thank you for even entertaining the idea. I haven’t done much to endear myself to you, so I appreciate that you didn’t turn me down outright.”

He flopped back down on the bed. “Go to sleep.”

“You still don’t know my name,” You said, lying down.

“If I accept, you can tell me. Just go to sleep. Or don’t, I don’t care.” He rolled over toward the wall, facing away from you, clearly indicating the conversation was over. You covered yourself with your cloak, your thoughts in a roil, and eventually fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, Alexei was gone. After a moment of panic, you packed up your things and rushed downstairs, hoping to ask after him, only to find him sitting and eating breakfast. He looked up when you came stumbling down, but made no gesture of greeting, simply continued to eat. You almost went to go sit with him, but thought, why? You don’t know him, after all. Instead, you went to sit at the bar.

“Getcha anythin’, darlin’?” The barmaid asked. She had a friendly north-eastern Scottish accent.

“You folks offer a breakfast plate or something like that?” You asked.

“Sure do. Mulled cider to go with?”

“Sounds great, thank you.”

She went off to get your food and drink and you sat there, feeling anxious.

“Pardon me,” A voice said to your right. It was Eris, the young mother of the gnoll child. Despite her somber face, she was actually rather lovely when she wasn’t crying.

“Oh, yes, ma’am, what can I do for you?”

“Take this, please,” She said, holding out a small drawstring sack. “It’s not much, but I wouldn’t feel right if you walked away with no reward for what you did for my family.”

“Oh, ma’am, no, you don’t have to do this,” You protested, but she held up a hand to stop you.

“Please, it would mean a lot to me. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to him,” She said. She scratched her neck self-consciously. Though she wore a high collared dress, you could see a scar peeking out of the neckline.

“Really, Alexei should get this, he’s the one who found him,” You told her.

“He’s already been given his share,” She said. “Take it, please.”

You smiled and sighed. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Her normally reserved, neutral expression lightened into a smile. “I hope we meet again.” And she took her leave.

The barmaid laid a plate of scrambled eggs and a fried potato hash in front of you along with a large tankard of cider.

You’d eaten half of it when Alexei sidled up and sat on the stool next to you. He didn’t look at you, but set his tankard in front of him and flagged down the barmaid, who refilled it.

“Do you get on with your folks? Are they good parents?”

“Yeah,” You replied, stunned by the sudden question. “They’re nice parents, they’ve never been cruel to me. I supposed I’m closer to my mother than my father, but we all get along well. I’ve never had to doubt if they loved me, if that’s what you mean.”

“But they’re okay with you marrying this pissant, though?”

You sighed. “Their marriage was arranged, and they were fine with it. I suppose they think that my fiance, Gregory, will settle down when we marry, but I doubt it. I don’t see how being married to a stranger is supposed to make someone like him straighten up.” You set down your fork and leaned your elbows on the bar. “Besides, even good parents may not always do what’s best for their kids. Sometimes they do what’s best for themselves. They’re just as capable of being selfish at the expense of others as any other person can be.” You took a gulp of cider and blew out a breath of frustration.

“Do you hate them?”

“No,” You said slowly. “I’m angry at them, but that doesn’t mean I hate them.”

He took a drink and huffed. “It’s all so confusing.”

“How do you mean?” You asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing. What were you going to do once you got to Dunmountain?”

“Hide. Get a job somewhere, anywhere. Sleep in a shed, if I have to. Lie low until I turned twenty five. Maybe go back when the contract runs out. Maybe.”

“You don’t want to see your parents again?”

“It’s not that,” You said, poking at your food. “I didn’t want to leave in the first place. If it wasn’t for the engagement, I wouldn’t have had to. I don’t know what they’ll do if I ever go back. Maybe they’ll disown me. Maybe they’ll force me to work or write up another marriage contract with Gregory or someone else to get the money they need. I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have a say?”

You scoffed. “Of course not. Women are the property of their fathers until they get married, and then they’re the property of their husbands. Property doesn’t get a say.”

He was silent for a long time, every so often reaching over to pick an onion off of your plate.

“I guess I just have one thing left to ask you, then,” He said.

“Which is?”

He turned to you and clicked his tongue. “What’s your name, pet?”

The two of you left Willowridge heading for Dunmountain, stopping for a few days in Chesterfield to have a quick courthouse wedding. He managed to find a simple iron ring in his belongings to use as a wedding band. After the wedding, you gave him half of your money, telling him he’d get the other half after the annulment.

Once in Dunmountain, you left Alexei to handle the mule and vardo, and immediately began to look for work. The bathhouses were your best bet; there was always laundry that needed doing.

You also found a small apartment at an inn made up of a single room with a fireplace one could cook over. It wasn’t furnished with anything, not even a bed, but you figured you could make do with a bedroll and a simple table and chairs. You paid the rent for the next month and got the keys, rushing back to Alexei to tell him where you’d be living.

He drove you back to the apartment on his carriage, and the two of you began hauling your belongings up the stairs to your room.

“I’ll buy furnishings tomorrow,” You told him. “We’re not staying here long, so we won’t need much.”

“Didn’t you say you’d see to my every comfort?” He teased. “I want a canopy bed with feather down and a lounging sofa and--”

You shushed him. “I said I’d cook and clean and pay the necessary expenses. You want anything else, you can pay for it yourself.”

He chuckled. “Did you find a job?”

“I start at the bathhouse adjacent to the inn in two days. I’ll leave you food for the day and cook when I get home. That’ll have to do.” You opened the door to the room and stepped inside. “I have enough provisions to make a simple stew, unless you’d like something else.”

“Stew sounds fine,” He said, setting down a small trunk. “I think I’ll go out tomorrow and look for paint supplies. I sold all of my paintings on my trip and I need to create some new ones. If I go too long without painting, I get irritable.”

“I’d hate to see what that looks like,” You said snidely. The only thing in the room provided by the inn was a bucket for drawing water from the nearby fountain. “I’ll fetch some water for dinner.”

A few months passed awkwardly but uneventfully. Alexei was companionable enough, but the two of you hadn’t made any attempts to bond or become close. You exchanged passing pleasantries, but the two of you didn’t converse much. He sometimes teased you by asking if your “wifely duties” extended to sharing the marital bed, seeing as how your bedrolls had been placed on opposite sides of the room. You merely smacked his backside with a hand towel and told him to get back to his paintings.

“Would you ever consider sitting for a painting, pet?” He asked you once as you were cleaning dishes.

You snorted. “I expected you’d want me to model nude for you or some nonsense.”

He laughed. “Only if that’s what you’d like, dear wife of mine.”

“Don’t call me that,” You said, lobbing a crumb of bread at his head. He didn’t duck, just let it hit him and caught it, popping it in his mouth. “And I will do no such thing.”

“Offer is open, if you ever change your mind.”

“If the earth opened and the devil himself ordered me to do it, I’d still refuse.”

Alexei laughed full-throated. “That’d be a sight worth seeing.”

As annoying as he could be, he wasn’t an unpleasant man to live with. He didn’t do any of the washing or cooking, but you didn’t care since you promised to do it yourself. Even still, he was fairly tidy and didn’t make much of a mess. He liked to joke and tease, but he was mostly harmless. For all his teasing, he never once made a move on you or gave you any reason to fear he might take advantage of you.

You also had to admit, he was very talented. He sold his paintings just as fast as he made them, which was a little bit of a shame, you thought: your room was a little plain and dour, and you’d have liked one or two of them to hang on the wall to brighten the place up. You never asked, though. You couldn’t go asking for favors from the man who’d already promised six months of his life to you.

On your birthday, you got permission to finish work early and decided to go and buy the ingredients to make an apple and honey pot pie to go with dinner that night. Since you didn’t have a stove, you’d have to bake it in a pan over the fire, but you knew how to do it. It was one of the first treats your mother had ever taught you to make.

Apples were in season and would be cheap enough--the cheapest of the fruits available anyway--but honey would be quite expensive. A single spoonful cost several days worth of work. But you figured, you’d been working hard. You’d earned it.

When you arrived back at the apartment, he stood up from his painting stool to take your shopping basket.

“Is that honey I smell?” He said, sniffing. “That’s pricey. What’s the occasion, pet?”

“It’s my birthday,” You told him. “I was going to make a pie.”

“Is it!” He said, smiling. “That certainly is reason for celebration. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s not like we have regular conversations, you know,” You said, unpacking the shopping. “Besides, I didn’t think it would matter to you.”

“Well, that’s a bit unfair,” He said, frowning. “Are we not friends?”

“Are we?” You asked, stopping to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Out of the way, please. I need to start the crust now or I’ll be cooking all night.”

He frowned at you still but said nothing, taking two steps back so you could bustle about making dinner.

“What would you want as a gift?” He asked, leaning against the wall and watching you work.

“I don’t want anything,” You replied, not looking up. “If I did, I’d get it myself.”

“Oh, come now,” He said, tsking. “You may not think of us as friends, but after four months, I would assume we’d have developed some kind of rapport. What would you ask of a friend?”

“I wouldn’t ask anything of a friend,” You said. “I’m not the type of person who expects gifts.”

“Didn’t your parents ever give you gifts?”

“That’s different, they’re my parents.”

“Family, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m family now, aren’t I?” He asked.

“I will throw a plate at you.”

“Just tell me,” He said, his voice a little wheedling. “There must be one thing I can get you that you’d allow.”

You sighed forcefully and stopped kneading the dough, turning to him and looking him up and down. “Are you serious about this?”

“Have you ever known me not to be serious?” He asked, grinning.

You rolled your eyes and when back to work, and he stuttered a retraction.

“No, no, I am, I’m serious. Please, tell me, what would you like?”

You stopped again and wiped your hands on your apron, and then crossed them over your chest. “Well… I’d like a painting.”

He looked like you’d hit him in the head with your baking pan. “What?”

“It doesn’t have to be anything grand, just a little painting of anything, flowers or trees or something like that, to brighten up the room. It’s a bit drab here.” You waved around vaguely. “There isn’t even a window. Just… some color. That’s all.”

“You want me to paint for you?” He asked, incredulous. “That’s all?”

“Well… I know painting supplies are expensive and I didn’t want to ask for anything, seeing as I promised to take care of everything myself. Like I said, I’m not the type to expect presents or things like that.”

“You don’t like to ask for things for yourself, do you, pet?” He asked shrewdly. “Not just from me, huh? In general.”

You turned your back to him and started kneading again. “My parents were both born peasants. Peasants don’t get gifts. When they married, they lived in a one-room cruck house that my father built them as a wedding gift. A house of straw and dirt was all my father could offer my mother, and it was good enough. They both worked their hands to the bone to get where they are. They live in a much nicer house now and don’t have to work as hard as they used to, but they raised me to appreciate what I could do with my own hands and not to rely on gifts. ‘A gift is never free,’ they’d always say.” You stopped working again and stared at your hands. “They used to tell me that I was ‘a gift’ to them. I wonder now if that meant they always saw me as a means to an end.”

“I always thought parents were supposed to put their children above everything else,” He said softly from behind you, continuing to watch you.

“Is that what your parents were like?” You asked in return. He didn’t answer and you looked over your shoulder at him.

“I wouldn’t know,” He said eventually, sitting down at the table and taking an apple from the basket. “Never met them. I grew up in an orphanage.” He took a knife from his pocket and began to peel and slice the apples.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” You remarked.

“Hush,” He said, not looking at you. “It’s your birthday.”

Dinner was pleasant, and the pie was delicious. There was enough left over to to have for breakfast the next morning. Alexei even helped you tidy up. The day had been rather nice.

So why, when you lay down for bed, did it suddenly feel like you couldn’t breathe?

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider becoming a Patron or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Monster Boyfriend #Satyr #Arranged Marriage #Fake Marriage #Reader Insert #Strangers to Lovers

300 notes · View notes

kireimarkeu · 4 years ago

Text

Yellow; l.mk

+another repost, one of my favourite works ever. its unfortunate not many liked it... ;-; but im still gonna post it anyways. i did not make any changes to this fic.

summary: a journey where boxer!mark and you start to fall for each other.

5.8k words... it wasn’t supposed to be this long.. sorry guys ):

i changed the title because sunflower reminded me of johnny lmfao! also i know you guys don’t like long fics but istg i didn’t want it to be so long either ;;

warnings: mentions of blood & violence, f words

+Day 1

The loud cheers were really starting to annoy you. Why did you let your friend drag you here in the first place?

You let out a grumbled sigh when your friend had pulled your hand, leading you closer to the ring. Truthfully, you hated anything that has got to do with blood or violence. You didn’t dare tell your friend that since she told you that she has always wanted to go to an underground match.

People were pushing you around as you struggled to keep your balance. You hold onto your friend’s wrist, to avoid from falling.

Your friend must have noticed your discomfort and leaned towards you, “you okay?”

Shaking your head, you reply, “yeah... this- this is just not my type,”

She pouts, “do you want to leave?”

“No, no, you’ve been waiting for this, let’s just watch the match,” you reply, looking back to the ring. Your friend nodded, looking back front.

The match started within a few minutes, both participants standing on each side started getting closer, waiting for one of them to throw a punch.

“That’s Jung Jaehyun,” your friend says, pointing to the one who had chocolate abs. He had some parts of his black hair dyed a dark green, which really suits him.

Jaehyun.

He was handsome. Pretty face— really pretty face. However, his neck was filled with tattoos, which gets rid of his cute demeanour. You already knew he was the type to get lots of girls just by doing nothing.

“And that’s Mark Lee,”

Your eyes gazed on the boy with black hair.

Oh.

He’s cute. He’s really cute. Super cute features. Plump lips, cute cheeks— you just want to pinch. You were surprised why he would be in a ring with such adorable features. You wanted to coo at his ears, why are his ears so cute?

If you were to pick one, you would pick the latter. He’s just your type.

Great, you’re doing it again. Thinking which boys you would choose.

Shaking your thoughts away, you focus on the match.

Jaehyun suddenly throws a punch, to which Mark managed to dodge. Mark suddenly throws a punch, straight to the other boy’s cheekbones.

You let out a gasp, flinching at the sight. Though, the crowd continues to cheer.

In a blink of an eye, Jaehyun has Mark under him, his arm tightening around Mark’s neck.

“Isn’t that dangerous?!” you screech, turning to your friend who was happily watching the match.

“That’s what makes it fun,” your friend winks.

Your mouth was left wide open as you look back at Mark who was struggling to breathe. You notice Mark tapping on Jaehyun’s arm as the latter lets go of his crazy tight grip on the boy.

“This is crazy,” you whisper out.

Despite being absolutely terrified of the scene that had just happened, you wanted to see more.

After a few matches, it was declared Jaehyun had won this time’s match. You actually expected it- seeing how he was slightly more builded than Mark. At the same time, you were disappointed that Mark had lost the match.

The people around you started getting closer, excited by the first match. It was making it hard for you to breathe.

You tap your friend’s shoulder, “I am going to step out for a while,”

“Do you want me to follow?” she asks.

You shake your head, “no, enjoy the rest of the match,”

“Okay, text me if you need anything,” she tells you as you let out a hum and step away from the crowd. You climb the flight of stairs, pushing the tinted glass door open. You take a deep breathe, finally able to breathe fresh air.

You rest your back against the brick walls, fishing out your phone to reply to some texts and scroll through Instagram.

“Hey,”

“Oh, jeez!” you jumped, your hand pressed against your chest, turning to see Mark.

Mark laughs, staring at you in amusement, “weren’t you from inside? I saw you,”

You gulp and nodded, “yeah, yeah I was, I saw you too,”

You scan his features. He had multiple bruises and cuts on his cheekbones and lips. You notice a deep cut on his eyebrow, and a bruise on his neck. You look back up to his eyes.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, pointing to the bruises painting his face.

He chuckles at your question, wiping the blood staining his lips. “Your first time here?”

You nod, your head moving to scan the cuts on his face, “are you going to clean that up?”

“I’m okay,” he reassures you, a small smile playing on his lips, “this is nothing,”

You wince. That was nothing? You would be crying in pain if you had that many cuts and bruises on you.

“Okay,” you whisper.

“I’m Mark,” he says again, “what’s your name, pretty?”

Your face turned a crimson red, “y/n,”

“y/n,” he repeats, the name rolling out of his tongue smoothly, “beautiful name for a beautiful girl,”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, “how many times have you used that phrase, Mark?”

Mark was flustered for a moment, but quickly regain his coolness, “well, as of 3 seconds ago… once?”

He laughs when you grimace at his response, shaking your head in astonishment.

“So, what were you doing in an underground boxing, y/n?” he asks you, “you don’t seem like the type to be around this area,”

“My friend has been dying to come to an underground match and she dragged me with her,” you explain.

He hums, “ah, your friend? She really caught Jaehyun’s eye earlier,”

You smirk, knowing your friend definitely has been crushing on Jaehyun too.

“We should set them up!” you say excitedly.

+Day 15

2 weeks later, you were back at the same place. This time, you weren’t forced, you had begged your friend to bring you again. You would go alone but being alone in a place filled with rowdy men scares you. You knew your friend would agree since she wanted to see Jaehyun too.

“You usually don’t like this type of things, why are you suddenly so excited?” your friend asked, grabbing her bag, while you were tugging on her arm.

You bit your lip nervously, knowing the exact reason why, but you refuse to tell her.

***

“You’re back again,” says Mark, looking down at you with a smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, I just need some break from the chaos at school,” you explain. You were actually doing well in school. Unlike other students, you let out your stress from doing work and projects.

Mark hums as he looks around, “wanna go somewhere quieter?”

“But—” you turn away to find your friend, but she was nowhere to be found.

“She’s talking to Jaehyun,” Mark tells you.

You turn back around, holding your breathe when you see Mark leaning awfully close to your face. When he saw your flustered state, he started smirking, letting out a low chuckle.

“Come,” he says, tugging on your elbow, pulling you out of the crowd. Climbing the familiar stairs, the both of you walked towards an empty playground. The both of you take a seat on the swings.

“It’s kinda scary to be in a playground at night,” you state, looking around the extremely quiet area.

You hear Mark laugh at your statement; you look at him confusingly. “You know what you remind me of?”

You raise your eyebrows.

“A sunflower,” he tells you, making you blush. “Anything with the colour yellow,”

“And why is that Mark?”

He rests his head on the rope of the swings as he stares at you, “You seem like someone who is absolutely cheerful, everyone needs someone like you in their life,”

You smile at his sweet words.

Your eyes gaze on his hands that was wrapped in bandages, blood seeping through them.

“Are your hands okay?” you ask, nodding your chin towards his hands resting on his lap.

He looks down at his hands then back at you, smirking, “why? Did I make you worry?”

You look at him like he was crazy, “of course you did! The guy went pretty hard on you,”

Mark felt embarrassed at that. You came to watch his match twice and he still couldn’t win in front of you.

He looks away from your gaze, “it was nothing,” he murmurs.

You were quiet for a while. You felt guilty for bringing it up, knowing he was already beating himself up for it.

“You did great,” you blurted out, “I came to support you actually,”

“Really?” he chuckles, his gaze still on his shoes.

“Yup, you did so well, I think I should take you out for lunch,” you blurt out without realising. Your eyes widen at what you had just said.

Oh god, why did you say that? Did you have no shame? What if Mark didn’t even feel the same way?

Mark swiftly turns to look at your confused face. Fuck, he just wanted to hug you so bad.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” he asks, an amused grin plastered on his lips.

Oh god.

You quickly face away from the boy who was staring at you with amusement. “N-no,”

He lets out a defeated sigh, “damn, really? I was hoping it would be a date,”

Oh fuck, he was smooth.

“Shouldn’t you be asking me out on a date?” you huff.

“Do you want me to ask you out on a date?”

“No! I mean—”

“Y/N, will you go on a date with me?”

+Day 17

The date was originally scheduled in 5 days but Mark was too excited and had asked you to meet slightly earlier, to which you agreed.

This time, Mark wasn’t in a tank top and shorts, he didn’t have cuts on his face or bloody hands wrapped in bandages. He was dressed in a button up and black skinny jeans.

He’s so adorable.

“What,”

“What?” you look at him weirdly.

“You keep staring at me,” he points out, “do I have something on my face? Or am I too handsome?”

You grimace at his words and threw a fry at him, giggles leaving your lips.

Mark wanted to take you out on a proper expensive date, but he was also a broke college student— just like you. He felt bad about not being able to take you out on a proper date, but you had reassured him that you’d rather eat McDonalds kids meal than eat a $50 meal that is the size of a pea.

“You know,” you start, leaning back on the chair, “If I saw you for the first time, I wouldn’t believe it if you told me you were a boxer,”

“Why?”

You shrug, “you look like a baby to me,” you tell him, “just wanna pinch your cheeks,”

He scoffs, puffing out his chest, “I may look like a baby, but I fight like a man,”

+Day 23

Mark: hey are you coming later

You: where?

Mark: my match you loser

You: I don’t think so :(

You: i have a bunch of work to do :((

Mark: :(

Mark: oky then :/ make sure you rest enough

You: I will :) don’t worry haha

+Day 25

“I didn’t know Mark had many girl friends,” your friend says.

You raise your eyebrows at that. The both of you weren’t official yet, only at the talking stage. He has never mentioned his friends or his family, but the information had your suspicions growing.

You pretend to not be affected by the words, “how’d you know?”

“You know the day you couldn’t come for his match?” you hum, “I think he invited some girls because they were all hugging and talking,”

You would be lying if you weren’t heartbroken by your friend’s words. However, you have no rights stopping him from seeing his friends. The both of you weren’t a couple.

“Aren’t you guys a couple?”

“No,” you answer with a sharp tone, “it’s his life he can do whatever he wants.”

“You’re not fazed by it?”

“Why would I be?” you murmur, “he’s not mine to begin with.”

+Day 35

Mark: hey :)

Mark: it’s been a while

Mark: I miss you

You: I knw haha

Mark: are you coming for my match tomorrow night?

Mark: no no you have to come tomorrow!!

Mark: ok?

You: hahahah

You: I will oky

You: im finished with my work & all so why not haha

You: but I need you to come get me hehe

You: my friend wont be following so its just me :3

Mark: that’s great!!!

Mark: I’ll send u home too ok

You: oky Markie :3

+Day 36

You had your hands resting on Mark’s face, cleaning up his bloody face. Mark had lost this time round; his opponent was three times your size and had beat Mark down like a pipe.

“I don’t even know why I support you doing this,” you mumble, wiping the blood running down his face, “you make me worry too much,”

“I’m okay.”

You glare up at him. “If you think this is okay then I don’t what’s your definition of the opposite.”

He frowns at you but didn’t say a word.

It took you a good 30 minutes to clean up all of his wounds. You lean away from him, “make sure you rest for a week,”

He hums, staring at you, “thank you,”

You felt bad for being so harsh on him. You reach for his hands, holding it in yours, your thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“Can you take me home now? I’m tired,” you sigh.

Throughout the ride home, you had one of Mark’s hand resting on your lap. You didn’t let go for a second, loving the warm feeling of his hand clasped in yours. Before you knew it, his car stopped infront of your apartment building.

You pout, turning to face him., “I don’t wanna leave yet,”

“Me neither,” he chuckles, “don’t go,”

You lips break into a grin, “you loser,”

He hums.

You unlock the door, ready to open the car door but Marks tug on your hands. You face him. He lifts his free hands, his pointer finger tapping on his cheek.

You snicker at his actions, your pointer and middle finger pushing his cheek away. You stick your tongue out when he pouts at you. You open the car door and left the car, shutting it, turning to face the boy who was still pouting.

“Thanks for today,” you say, “make sure you rest for a week before you start working again,” you reminded him.

Upset that you didn’t kiss him, Mark clicked his tongue and gestured for you to go in.

+Day 40

Your eyebrows furrow when you saw the pictures Mark was tagged in Jaehyun’s photo. You knew this photo was recent from the evident bruises on Mark’s face.

You had already warned him to completely heal for a week before going back to work but why was he so stubborn?

The girls who was surrounding the guy you like didn’t go unnoticed by you. You noticed how he had his arms snake around both girl’s waist.

Shutting your eyes close, you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Is this from today?” you ask your friend, showing her your phone.

Your friend takes a look and nods without hesitation.

A loud and angry groan left your lips. Getting up from the couch, you stomped to your bedroom, shutting the door as you climbed in bed.

God, why was liking a boy so hard?

Tears started rolling down your cheeks. You were so frustrated with Mark. You liked him so much that you hated seeing him being hurt— even if it was something he loves doing.

It wasn’t the first time he was seen surrounded by girls. Although the both of you weren’t in an official relationship, you didn’t enjoy seeing him touching girls. Maybe you were being dramatic with the girls, but did you really want to date someone like him? Someone who could potentially be taken away in a flash?

You sit up, rubbing your eyes with a deep sigh. Everyone deserves a chance, even if he had hurt you.

You turn on your phone to send Mark a text.

You: you went to work today?

It took him less than a minute to respond.

Mark: how’d you know?

You: jaehyun’s Instagram

You: I thought I told you to rest?

Mark: sorry :( it was just a last minute match

You: hm

Mark: but on the bright side, I won this time!

Right. Of course he would win the match when you’re not there to support him.

You: was it fun?

Mark: yeah! Our friends came to support us

You: ohh who?

Mark: just some ex-school friends, you don’t know them haha

You: okay hha

Mark: you’re not angr right? Haha

Mark: angry*

You: no why would I be

You: you’re not my boyfriend so I have no right to be

You: mad

+Day 58

“Hey,” Mark sends you a bitter smile, “you okay? Been a whole year since we last saw each other,”

“It’s been 2 weeks, Mark,” you reply dryly.

Mark pouts and takes a seat next to you, “two weeks too long~”

He leans his head on your shoulder as his gaze on your phone. You turn to him slightly, offering your bubble tea to the male who happily accepts. He rests his hand on the plastic cup and your hand holding the cup, pulling it towards his lips.

You giggle, “you’re so cute, Mark.”

He squints his eyes cutely at you as he continues sipping on your drink. You didn’t complain, you love seeing him all happy.

You clear your throat, earning his attention, “I want to ask you something,”

He tilts his chin upwards, “what’s up?”

You try to think of a way to phrase your words together without sounding possessive.

Mark notices your furrowed eyebrows, he cracks a grin and nudges you with his shoulder, “don’t be so serious, what’s up?”

“Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” you blurted out.

Mark fell silent at your question. He wasn’t annoyed or anything— not at all, he couldn’t ever be mad at you. But it was just so sudden, where was this all coming from?

“I mean- you don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” you explain, “it’s not like I want to,” you laugh awkwardly, looking away from the male.

“N-no,” he stutters out, “it was just so sudden, where is this coming from?”

“I’m sorry,”

“Do you want to meet my friends?” he asks.

“I’m not forcing you,” you state, “it’s just a question- it’s not important,” you mumble the last part.

He let out a chuckle, “I want you to meet my friends,” he says, “but, they just…”

You purse your lips, already expecting the answer. Of course he won’t introduce you to his female friends. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t disappointed, but you couldn’t do anything. you can’t force him into doing something he doesn’t want to.

“I’m sorry,” he sounded sincere, too sincere. It’s weird.

You feign a smile, “It’s okay, but I have to go now,”

He frowns, watching you stand up to grab your bag, “already?”

You nod, “I’ll see you when I see you, I guess,”

Before he could even hug you goodbye, you had already left the bubble tea shop.

+Day 62

You had this habit of overworking yourself whenever you were down. You had drowned yourself in projects and work. The incident that happened a few days ago has left your mind, especially when he hasn’t sent you a single text.

“Hey,” your friend called, you hum in response, although your gaze was still glued on your laptop. “Have you been talking to Mark lately?”

Your fingers freeze at his name. Suddenly you were furious just by hearing his name.

“Why?” you reply crudely.

“He’s been asking me about you. Did something happen?” your friend asks, worried about you.

He’s been asking about you? So he has been thinking about you this whole time? Your heart fluttered a little at the thought. You genuinely liked Mark and it sucked that the both of you were already having arguments even before being a couple.

You bit your lip, turning around to look at your friend, “what did he say?”

Your friend passes you her phone, showing the text message between the two.

Mark: hey, im sorry if im disturbing you but

Mark: is y/n okay?

Mark: we haven’t been texting lately and I thought she needed space so i gave her that

Mark: I just want to know if she’s okay? If shes eating healthily?

Your lips tugged upwards at the text. God, he was so cute. You scroll down a little more to read more texts.

Mark: could you update me everyday on how she’s doing?

Mark: I miss her :/

“He really likes you, you know,” your friend says abruptly.

You pass her phone back, looking up at her.

“I know I’m not officially his and I have no right on stopping him who he should hang out with,” you explain, “but it upsets me seeing how he’s being surrounded by girls every single night,”

Your friend places her hand on your shoulder, her thumb caressing your shoulder comfortingly, “you should talk to him about it.”

She was right. Communication is key. You can’t keep it a secret forever. If it upsets you, then you should voice out.

You were going to talk to him about it.

+Day 67

You were at the underground boxing area again. Mark had texted you to come and support him. You were going to talk to him about it today. After his match. This was the only way that was going to make you feel better.

This time, you were standing near the wall, furthest from the boxing ring. Mark had warned you to stay here because of all the rowdy men crowding the area.

“With your petite size, you are just going to be stepped on,” he had said.

You locked eyes with Mark who was standing in the ring. You automatically grin at him. Mark struggled to keep a straight face after seeing your adorable smile.

‘Good luck!’ you mouth, lifting your hands to show a thumbs up, then sending a heart to the male.

Mark’s heart flutter just by looking at you. He looks away to keep a straight face. Soon, the match started.

“Hi,”

You swiftly turned to see a handsome male standing next to you. You send him a polite smile before turning back to look at Mark.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I’m just here to support a friend,” you say plainly, your eyes gazing on Mark intently.

“I see,” the man says, “I’m Yuta,”

Does he ever stop talking? You hum, hoping it would stop him from talking to you.

“What’s your name?”

You wanted to roll your eyes at his question. You face the man, “I’m y/n,”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he flirts, winking at you. You grimace at his words. “You’re really pretty,”

You didn’t respond, irked by his presence.

“Do you hate talking or something?” he asks you. He rolls his eyes when you didn’t reply. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I don’t, Yuta,” you sigh.

“Then? Do you hate me or something? Do you hate someone you’ve never met?” he asks you, leaning closer to you.

Unbeknownst to you, Mark saw you talking to the male and was distracted by it, which resulted in him getting punched in the jaw by his opponent.

Loud gasps and whistles filled the room.

You quickly turn to see Mark laying on the ground, getting stepped on by his opponent. Your hands went up to your mouth, watching in horror. Once his opponent was pulled away, you ran to find Mark, but was stopped by Yuta grasping your arm.

“Let go of me!” you shrieked, pushing his arm away, running to find Mark.

You see Mark in the room, holding his jaw painfully while Jaehyun helped him bandage his hand.

“Mark!” you call, running up to him. You instantly hold onto his elbow, scanning his face that was littered with bruises. He had a black eye too.

Mark meets your worried gaze. His eyes held something different— anger and annoyance.

“Are you okay? Are you badly hurt anywhere?” you ask.

The male suddenly pushes your grip off him, looking away from you. Your eyes widen at his actions.

Did you do something wrong?

You look at Jaehyun, hoping he would signal you something— anything. But he only looked away from you guiltily. You frown at the both of them.

“Mark?” he ignores your voice.

You felt your heart clench painfully. You didn’t know what you did wrong for him to treat you this way. A disappointed sigh left your lips as you turn around, leaving the underground boxing match.

You rest your back against the brick walls, you felt tears trail down your cheeks. You came here with Mark and was expecting him to drive you home, so you didn’t bring any money with you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your fingers wiping the stray tears.

You fish out your phone, unlocking it but only to see a black screen. You harshly pressed on the button multiple times but it wouldn’t turn on. Great, your phone must’ve died. You look around, trying to find someone who could help you out.

“Are you going to get in?” a deep voice says.

You look up to see Mark standing next to his car.

+++++

A shaky sigh left your lips, brushing away the tears that wouldn’t stop leaving your eyes. You look out the window, hoping it would distract you. Another tear rolled down your cheeks.

“Stop crying,” Mark murmurs.

You wanted to scoff at that. How ironic, especially when he was the one who made you cry.

“I’m fucking trying,” you say through gritted teeth.

The car comes to a halt as you see your apartment building outside. However, you didn’t leave his car.

“Did I do something?” you ask. You have been dying to ask the question ever since.

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t know y/n, did you?” he responds sarcastically.

“Can you stop that?!” you shout, turning your body to face him, “Just tell me what I did so I can fucking apologize!”

He scoffs at your words, “who was that man? Openly flirting while I was in a match?”

Your brows knit in confusion. Is he being serious?

“Firstly, I don’t know who the hell that man was, and I was definitely not flirting with him,” you explain, “and secondly, you’re not my boyfriend. So, even if I wanted to flirt, I am allowed to.”

This relationship was starting to get confusing.

“We are in the talking stage!” he shouts, “technically you are mine.”

You laugh at that, “really? I can’t flirt with anyone but you’re out here hugging and touching random girls!”

He becomes quiet, looking away from your intense gaze.

You push your hair back, frustrated. “what now, Mark?”

He looks down at his lap, playing with his fingers. He felt like crying— he never cries. “I don’t think this is working out,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I think we should stop seeing each other,”

You feel your lips tremble, tears threatening to fall again. You close your eyes, the tears falling down your cheeks. Your hands clenched into fists, hoping it would stop you from letting out sobs.

“Okay,” you mutter, “I’m going to go,”

When you reached your apartment, your hand immediately rests on the wall, steadying your balance. You couldn’t even breathe properly as you let out loud sobs. Your heart was beating rapidly from your unsteady breathing.

You felt like you were going to die. You didn’t expect this to hurt so much.

You are going to get through this. You will get through this.

+Day 83

It has been a few weeks since you had last seen Mark. You had spent most of your time in your room crying your eyes out. If it wasn’t that, you would be sobbing on the couch while your friend would try her best to comfort you.

You didn’t have the energy or appetite to eat. Your friend always made you drink lots of water and would sometimes make a sandwich for you.

Your friend had secretly sent text updates to Mark, but he would just ignore them. He was hurting as much as you were. Just by hearing your name, his heart would clench painfully. Mark had spent most of his time at the ring, taking out his frustration by throwing punches and kicks.

You were washing the dishes since your friend had left to support Jaehyun in the underground match. She had invited you to come with her, but you’d rather stay home, knowing Mark would probably be there.

Your phone started ringing. You let out an annoyed sigh, quickly putting the plate on the rack, then walking over to grab your phone. You answer the call.

“What?” you sigh, “I’m busy cleaning, you know?”

“y/n,” your friend breathes heavily. This was weird. “Can you come here?”

Your eyebrows knit in confusion, “what? Why? What happened?”

“Mark passed out,” she tells you.

Your eyes widen, “w-what?”

“He’s going to be sent to the hospital, you need to come, now,”

+++++

“What room is he in? Is he okay?” you ask, looking at your friend and Jaehyun with wary eyes.

“He’s okay,” Jaehyun says, “he’s in the room,” he nods towards the door.

You had tears threatening to leave your eyes. You couldn’t help but let the tears fall. You felt your body grow weak, you squat down, covering your face with your arms as you let out loud sobs.

It was all your fault. If you hadn’t taken care of him more often, none of this would’ve happened.

Your friend frowns at your state. She bends down and pat your back comfortingly. “Go in,” she persuades, “he has been dying to see you,”

You lift your head to look at her, a small pout on your lips. Your friend wipes your tears with her thumb, smiling at you.

Letting out a soft sigh, you stand up, smoothing your hair and your pants. Walking towards the door, you knock softly before sliding the door open. Mark tilts his head, seeing you walk in quietly with your lips pursed.

He didn’t know what to do. Should he send you a smile? Should he act cold?

When you got closer to him, you scan the state he was in. He had his forehead bandage and his arm in a cast. His lips were busted, a plaster on the bridge of his nose.

“Hey,” you say, voice still raspy from the crying earlier, “what happened?”

He clears his throat and looks away from you. He feels bad making you worried. But at the same time, he didn’t expect you to be here.

“Just a few bruises here and there,” he says.

“Mark.”

“It’s nothing, really!” he exclaims.

You glare at him, “fuck you,” you spit. “I came down here because everyone was so worried about you. I was so worried about you. And now that I’m here, you’re going to tell me it’s nothing?”

Mark was unbelievable. God, why do you like him so much?

His eyes soften at your words. He bit his lip nervously, intimidated by you, he slowly looks up at you, “I just don’t want to worry you,”

You scoff, “your job already worries me, Mark.”

He pouts without even realising. He looks down at his lap guiltily, playing with his fingers.

You felt bad for shouting at him. Letting out a huff, you amble closer.

“You’re okay now, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, his gaze glued on his lap.

A pregnant silence fills you two, unsure of what to say to each other. You didn’t want to leave, and Mark doesn’t want you to leave. You bit your lips awkwardly as you look everywhere but Mark.

“I think I’ll leave now,” you say, “I have work to do and I don’t want to… disturb you,”

You stare at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything. disappointment fills you when Mark looks away from your gaze. You turn around, ready to leave the room when Mark calls your name.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, “that day,”

You stop in your tracks, your back facing him. Your grip tightens on your sweatpants.

“Mean what?” you repeat, “you suggested it, Mark,”

“I know,” he breathes, “I regret it,”

You missed Mark. You missed his dumb jokes and his annoying laughter which you loved so much. You turn around to look at him.

“I don’t like seeing you this way, Mark,” you confess, “your job scares me, it worries me,”

“What can I do to make you not worry, y/n?” he asks, eyes widening, “should I stop doing it?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you reply harshly, “if you would actually let me stay by your side, it might ease my worries,”

You step closer to the boy, your hand resting on his cheek. He subconsciously lean against your soft hand.

“I’m sorry for what I said the other day,” he professes, “I..I didn’t mean what I said,”

You take a seat on the chair that was next to his bed, holding onto his hands tightly. “Then, why would you say that Mark?”

“I just—“ he sighs, “I just didn’t want to lose you to someone else, y/n,” he explains, looking up at you, “we weren’t even dating yet! I just knew that I genuinely like you.”

Your heart clench at his words. “I didn’t like seeing you with other girls either,”

“I know,” he huffs, his free hand going up to ruffle his mop of black hair, “I was just stupid,”

Your thumb strokes his hand comfortingly, “It’s okay. It’s all over now,”

“I don’t want to deal with this anymore,” he tells you, “all this, jealousy and possessiveness.”

Is he going to…?

“I have been dying to ask you this question for the longest time,” he continues, “would you like to be my girlfriend?”

505 notes · View notes

sw124 · 4 years ago

Text

BonelyHearts Reader Insert

{Female!ReaderXSkeleton household}

Camping! Pt.1

It was nippy outside, no question there. But you couldn’t beat the sheer beauty of it all. The field was vast and filled with rolling hills turning the loveliest shades of tan from the upcoming winter season. There was not a tree for miles around. You stretched your arms back, breathing in that beautiful air, it was so crisp it would put an apple’s skin to shame. You let out a long breath, watching it curl into its own cloud before quickly dissipating.

“So pretty here...” you whispered to yourself.

“Human! Have you found a spot yet?!”

You turn to see your gaggle of skeleton friends all unloading things from the van, you smile and wave to Papyrus.

“One sec ok I think I found a great spot for us all!”

Happily you half-jogged down the little hill you were standing on and scoped out a nice spot, it was flat and void of twigs and leaves. You stamped the ground to be sure there weren’t any spots waterlogged from rain, but no the ground was perfectly dry and level.

Back up the hill you run and call out. “Guys over here, I found the perfect spot!”

Back down you raced and skipped around the spot, the first skeleton over the hill was Blue with the picnic table; a perfect sign that this spot is claimed by someone. Blue hands you the table and you set it up, he runs back over the hill. The next skeleton to come over the hill is Papyrus with some of the chairs, all neatly marked with everyone’s name on the back of each unique chair, including yours.

You take them and set them up in a line; to both keep them out of the way and to let everyone choose where they’d like to sit when things get ready. Boss and Ash were the next couple of skeletons over the hill bringing the tents. Poplar was close behind carrying some bags, Nox and Rus were the next two over the threshold carrying two large boxes.

You rushed back up the hill to the van and met up with Red and Sans who were digging stuff out of the van. You came up and collected what they just took out and went back to the spot, you set the things down and went back for more. Stretch passed you carrying some of the sleeping bags. You couldn’t help but imagine everyone plus yourself as a bunch of worker ants. You were the one to get the last of the things, the box labeled ‘plates, utensils and cleanup’.

You just reached over the crest of the hill, you watched as Boss and Papyrus began laying out the tarps for some of the tents while Nox and Blue set up the canopy tent, Stretch and Rus were getting the sleeping bags sorted out. Of course Sans was already napping in his chair, you walked over to Ash, Poplar and Red who were getting the portable fire pit ready. You set the things down and grabbed a bucket nearby, you turned to the skeletons.

“I’m gonna go get some water and firewood!”

“Wait human!” You paused as Papyrus walked up to you...Sans neatly tucked under one arm. “Take Sans with you, he needs to do something productive instead of lazing about!”

Sans gave you shrug after Papyrus sat him down, you smile and take his hand.

“Its not that far, lets go lazy bones.” You just had to giggle seeing the blush form on his face.

You and Sans didn’t have far to walk, the communal area was at least just a yard away. You paid for fire wood, making sure to have extra just in case also filling the bucket up with water. You told Sans to teleport the wood back to the campsite you’d be fine walking back with the bucket.

“Actually, I got a better idea.” Taking your hand and in a blink of an eye, the both of you were back at the campsite, firewood and water in hand.

“Ah you’re back! That was quick!” Papyrus took the bucket from you as Sans sat the fire wood down by Red.

“The hell- I don’t know how to start a damn fire, why you putting it by me?” Red growled.

“Well someone’s gotta know, other wise we’re gonna be ‘burned out’ by the end of this.” Sans chuckled, a echo of groans is heard.

You took the initiative, while Sans and Red went back and forth you began setting things up for the fire. Ash and Poplar watched, you balled up some dry-dead grass and layered some small twigs on it. Taking out a lighter you packed you lite the grass, after you got the smaller fire going you started layering on the wood. In a matter of a few minutes you had a nice fire all set.

“Fires ready.” You said, you felt a little proud seeing everyone’s expressions.

“Anything else that needs to be done?” You asked, surveying the layout.

“If you could set up the cooking station under the canopy that would be nice.” Said Poplar, Ash helping him stand up.

Nodding you went to the canopy and start unpacking, you unpacked the snacks first but kept the perishables like the fish inside the cooler along with the vegetables. You took out a large pot, pasta, ramen and other things and set them on a separate fold-out table; preparations for tonight’s dinner. You had just set out the last of the snacks when you heard Nox curse, you look to see him knelt down by a peg and holding his hand.

“Nox, you ok?” You walk over.

“I’m fine, I just caught the side of my hand with the hammer.”

You were quick to take his hand and inspect it, a habit of yours whenever someone had gotten an injury no matter how minor it was. Nox grumbles but doesn’t take his hand away, you gently rub his hand between yours to sooth the wound before standing back up. Giving him a sweet smile, was it your imagination or was he blushing.

“I’m setting up some snacks for when you boys are done, drinks too; I’ll let you know when there done.” You left before he could give you a reply, you had a task to complete.

You arranged the small snack bags into two groups, one side was for the shorter skeletons the other for the taller skeletons. Of course it had everyone’s name written on the baggies but this just made it simpler. Next were the drinks, coco and coffee. You took great pains to make sure the coffee was just right too, you brought a special hand grinder for the coffee beans.

The coco you decided was going to be just as special, you were going to make it just like how your parents did back when you were really small. As you were finishing everything up, something caught your attention. You turned and saw at least a few yards away a giant RV party bus pull in, it was blaring popular club music, you could feel the ground vibrating from it. You wrinkled your nose a little, the smug oozing off the thing was almost too much. You tried to tell yourself it might just be a family and their kids put the music on loud as a joke.....you were dead wrong. The people that stepped out were four young men. You wrinkled your nose again, everyone else around the campground were either elderly/young couples or families. Not these wannabe campers...

You turned back to your task, just ignore them and things would be fine. You took the pot of hot coco and poured them into some mugs, next was the coffee and whatever the boys put in their coffee. You basically memorized everything these boys put in their drinks. You had just finished pouring the last cup when you heard Papyrus’s triumphant laugh. You turn to find a rather impressive sight, three tents but they were all connected with small extension tunnels, length maybe a single meter?

“Whoa...” you whispered.

You had two large tents sandwiching a slightly smaller one in the middle, you walked over and marveled at them. Papyrus walked over, his hand proudly placed on his hips and chest puffed high.

“Yes a magnificent sight indeed human! A friend of ours lent this to us, the tent on the left over here is where I, Boss, Poplar, Rus and Stretch will sleep. Our brothers will be in the tent on the far right and you will have the center tent!”

You blinked, the center tent was yours? You unzipped the front and looked inside, for goodness sake the center tent could fit five fully grown adults it was so huge! It had pockets to fit your phone too, you looked to and saw two opening ‘doorways’? Tentways? Whatever it was called you looked inside and goodness both sides were massive, but then again it probably was for the best since they were fitting five tall skeletons...and five short ones. Thankfully you found you could zip up both sides for privacy.

“What do you think human?” Asked Papyrus.

“Really amazing!” You couldn’t lie, this was impressive.

“Nyeheheh! Thank you human!”

“Well I’m glad your done cause I’ve just finish setting up the kitchen and have some hot drinks and snacks ready.”

You turned to get the drinks as Papyrus called everyone together, the skeletons all propped their chairs around the fire as you passed out their snacks, coco and coffee. You made yourself a cup of warm butterfly pea tea and sat down in your own chair. Rus softly blew across the top of his coco to cool it down before taking a sip of it, you smiled seeing his eyes light up.

“W-Wow...did you buy a new coco brand?” Rus looked at you, stars dancing in his eyes.

“No, I just made coco the way my parents did. No instant coco or coffee for this camping trip!” You giggle.

Ash smiled wildly as he tasted his coco along with his brother, Nox was inspecting his coffee, inhaling its steam to be sure you did a proper job in preparing his drink. You slyly rolled your eyes but didn’t hold it against him, good coffee is hard to come by or make right. Stretch though was not as picky and spoke up.

“Heeeeey this is pretty good, you sure you didn’t use the instant stuff?”

You knew he was poking fun at you but shook your head, you turned back to Nox, you caught a glimpse of his eyes going wide before returning to normal...followed by a fox like grin.

“Well my dear you certainly have been paying attention to my lessons on coffee haven’t you?” He purred.

“Yes, even I must admit you do have a way with making a good cup of coffee.” Replied Boss sipping his own cup.

Blue, much like Rus had stars dancing in his eyes, if the coffee was a little more cooler he might have chugged his entire mug down in a single go but it was still nice and hot so he had no choice but to sip. Red seemed to be restraining himself from downing his own cup as well. Papyrus and Sans were the last to speak up.

“Wowie human this is truly amazing!”

“Yeah, what did you buy?” Asked Sans, looking into his cup.

You smiled. “If you really want to know, I used milk, butter, sugar and coco powder all mixed together in a small cooking pot. My parents would make that kind of coco all the time in winter when I was really little, when I heard we were going camping I thought I’d share it with you guys.”

“Thats really nice...” said Ash, you smile at him...you were making a lot of skeletons blush today.

Papyrus spoke up next.

“So human, what shall we do now that we’re set up?”

[To be continued..]

[A fanfic reader insert for the fan-game @bonelyheartsclub I hope you enjoy and I will be planning more in the future with gender neutral or male centered readers, I hope you enjoy. Also I kinda guessed on what drinks the boys would like so don’t rag on me about getting drink choices mixed up ok? I’ll make corrections when I learn more about the boys]

#undertale #fanfic #bonely hearts club

148 notes · View notes

sweet-by-and-by · 4 years ago

Text

On the Blue Side of the Mountain- Chapter 2

gif credit

summary: After a narrow escape from the downfall of the Van Der Linde gang, you and Arthur have lived comfortably on your mountainside homestead for years. Away from any Pinkertons, Cornwalls, and O’Driscolls, you’re finally safe. All you can do now is try to find peace and hope that the shadows of your past don’t catch up with you.

pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

a/n: Another fluffy little piece for chapter 2! Apparently this will be structured like the game and things will start getting much more intense in chapter 3. So enjoy the niceties while they last lol.

(I’m kidding, it won’t all be bad)

In loving memory of the cabin trip I had planned for this spring before my country went back into lockdown in January. RIP to the hopes I had at catching a damn fish.

Masterlist

AO3

You breathed in deeply, inhaling the wonderful scent of fresh water and pine trees. Beneath you, your horse threw her head to shake out her mane. You had been riding for a few hours, taking the narrow trail to the bottom of the mountain. The beautiful weather had lured you in and soon you found yourself packing lunches to take the children fishing.

You rounded the corner, the river cutting through the trees as you all descended from the hilltop. The sound of the rushing water drifted up the hill, and the freshness of the air washed a sense of calm over you. You loved that your homestead was surrounded by trees and meadows sprawling with wildflowers. But the rush of water always brought you such peace.

Alice squealed with glee as Arthur swung her to the ground from his saddle, and he quickly dismounted to join her. You and your sons followed suit from your respective horses as Arthur unloaded several fishing rods.

You reached in your saddle bag to grab the packed lunch and your sewing, and untied the extra blanket from your saddle. The five of you walked the few steps down to the river. The children hot on Arthur’s heels while you chose a grassy spot under a tree close by.

You watched from your place on your blanket as the group of them assembled their rods, hanging on to Arthur’s every word like he was a master fisherman.

James and Andrew had been fishing a handful of times before, but this was all very new to Alice. Arthur gently instructed her on how to put the fishing rod together, and laughed at her disgusted face when he held out a worm for her.

“Papa, I am not touching that.” she declared, crossing her arms in defiance.

Arthur laughed, his hearty boom full of love. “It’s just like the ones you pull out of the garden, Sweet Pea!”

Alice shook her head, refusing to fall for his deception. “Nu-uh,” she said, “the ones in the garden aren’t food for the fishes!”

Arthur relented and hooked the worm himself, still chuckling. He knew it would get him nowhere to tell her that he had grabbed the worms from the garden that morning.

Meanwhile, Andrew was already casting, helping James as he struggled to remember how the reel worked.

Arthur took notice and came to his aid, quickly giving James a refresher. As the boys settled in to their spots on the shore, Arthur returned to your excited daughter. Arthur took her hands and placed them in the proper grip. He wrapped his arms around her and demonstrated the motion, and you reveled in the intensity in her expression as she focused deeply.

It was a rare sight to see her take anything so seriously, and it was absolutely adorable.

Together, they cast the hook into the river and waited. Arthur let go of her hands and instructed her to wait for a bite.

“How are you boys over there?” he called to his sons.

Andrew jumped at a tug on the end of his rod. He quickly jerked it back, hooking the fish at the other end.

“I’ve got one!” he exclaimed, wild eyes turning back to his father.

“Well, bring it in!” Arthur cheered. You all watched as Andrew reeled in the fish, yanking and pulling as hard as he could.

“It’s a big one, Papa!” he grunted. “A real fighter!”

After what felt like hours to Andrew, but was only a few minutes, the line finally drew close enough to shore to grab. Arthur lunged for it, pulling it in and laughing.

Andrew had won a great fight against the catch of his life: a sopping wet leather boot.

Andrew frowned at the sight of it, dangling from his hook mockingly.

The rest of you couldn’t help but join in with Arthur, your laughter mingling with the sounds of the river. Arthur unhooked the boot and patted Andrew on the back, who was glaring at the thing.

“It’s a fine boot, son,” Arthur said, “but I’m not sure your Mama’s going to cook it up for dinner.”

He tossed the boot to the side and patted Andrew on the back. His worm had been lost in the process, and he reached out to ask Arthur for another.

“Tell ya' what,” Arthur said, reaching into his satchel and rooting around for something. “I’ll let you in on a secret I was taught by an old friend.”

If Alice had been distraught by the worm, she might have fainted at the cricket that Arthur placed in Andrew’s hand.

“A cricket?” Andrew questioned, looking at Arthur disbelievingly.

“Sure!” Arthur drawled. “River fish eat ‘em right up.”

Still unsure, Andrew hooked the cricket and cast his line back out. While they waited, Arthur went back to check on Alice, who had abandoned her rod by the shore and was collecting river rocks.

“Sweet pea!” he called, his smile growing wide. “I ain’t sure you’ll catch anything this way.”

“Fishing is boring.” She said decidedly, turning back to her rock collecting.

Arthur laughed at that, booming brightly. “You know, your cousin Jack felt the same way.”

“You taught Jack to fish too?” Andrew asked. You were sure Andrew would suddenly aspire to be an avid fisher, with the way he idolized Jack and everything he did.

“Sure! Your mama and I took him down to the river when he was a boy, just like this.” he remembered fondly.

“Mama, you fished too?” Andrew asked, turning to where you were lounging on the blanket.

“Sure did. I’m good for much more than just mending holes in your shirt you know.” You teased, gesturing towards the shirt you were repairing.

“Of course you are,” he replied, “I just didn’t know you liked to fish too.”

“Knowing how to fish and liking fishing are two different things.” Arthur teased, winking at you. “I’ve made your mama do all kinds of things she ain’t liked.”

“What can I say, I’m more of a hunter.” You shrugged.

“Your Mama’s always been one for the chase.” Arthur smirked, his eyes darkening as his gaze wandered down your figure.

You rolled your eyes and scolded Arthur half-heartedly, trying to smother the chuckle that was threatening to give you away.

Suddenly, Andrew jerked his head towards his line. He cried out victoriously as the tip of his rod bobbed, giving a sharp tug to set the hook.

He reeled in as fast as he could, the excitement making him giddy. You watched on as he drew the line in, reaching for it once it was close enough to shore. He beamed triumphantly at the sight of an actual fish on the hook.

He proudly displayed his catch for everyone to see, with a grin as wide as his face and a brightness in his eyes that was contagious. You smiled as Arthur clapped him on the back, equally as proud of his son.

“Would ya’ look at that!” He chimed, reaching for the fish to remove the hook. “That’s quite the smallmouth, son.”

Andrew beamed up at his father. “Papa,” he said, his eyes wide in amazement. “I think you might be the greatest fisherman there is.”

Arthur laughed and handed Andrew his catch. “I ain’t no such thing,” he protested, “your grandpa Hosea now, he was quite the fisherman. The stories he could have told you!” Arthur reminisced, his gaze far away.

Your smile turned slightly sad at the mention of Hosea. You remembered the stories he would tell of the great beasts tamed by his rod, always expectantly over the top. You felt such sorrow at the reminder that he never lived to see his grandchildren, that they would never know what an incredible man he was.

Another tragic casualty of the gang’s decline.

Arthur noticed your shift, his own mourning tugging at the edges of his heart. You looked to one another, remembering fondly but sadly.

Arthur turned back to Andrew, forcing his smile to return. He reached back into his satchel and handed him another cricket.

After a few more hours by the river, you all loaded back up on the horses and started your journey home with a great bushel of fish to be salted. The warmth of the sun and the fresh air had thoroughly tuckered everyone out. As you guided your horses back up the mountain trail, you knew you would have no trouble getting the children to bed that night.

You looked to where Arthur rode alongside Alice, who sat happily atop her pony. He reached to adjust the tether and whispered something to her that sent her into a fit of giggles. The sun was setting behind him, casting a brilliant array of colours across the sky. You were struck by how handsome he was, and you couldn’t help yourself from taking a moment to appreciate his silhouette.

In moments like these, it was hard to feel anything but overwhelming love for your wonderful little life tucked away on the mountainside.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #f!reader #reader insert #self insert #alternate ending #multichapter #fanfic #fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #my fic #on the blue side of the mountain

60 notes · View notes

achliegh · 3 years ago

Text

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 12:

Jesus, Take the Wheel

It was 11 o’clock in the afternoon when Remus and Sirius got home, Reg was sitting on the couch under a blanket like the vampire he was on his laptop.

“Reg! We’re home! I’m glad the house is still standing!” Sirius goes over to the blanket before Reg can pull it off and hugs him super tight so the blanket makes him look like a little child dressed as a ghost. Remus smiles at them, walking past to set his bag by the basement stairs where they like to keep off their hockey stuff.

“Get off me! I can’t breathe!” Sirius lets go and Reg punches him in the shoulder after he slams his laptop closed and takes the blanket off. “Jerk.”

“Hey, you cut your hair.” Sirius grabs his baby brother's face and makes him turn his head to one side and then the other examining his hair. It looked really good on him, Sirius has always wanted to do something like this with his hair but always chickens out because of what the media will say. “It looks really nice, I’m a little jealous. I have always wanted to have my hair like that.” He ruffles Reg’s hair and gives him a sloppy kiss on the forehead like he knows Reg, acts like he hates, loves. “I am going to shower, I smell like bus, I’ll be back!” He passes Remus on his way upstairs and gives him a peck.

“I take it you won?” Reg stands up and follows Remus into the kitchen, Remus looks in the sink to see all the dirty dishes the trio had left because they didn’t want to do it. Reg was just kinda awkwardly floating around Remus as he worked on the dishes and Re had an idea that something was up.

“Okay, something is bothering you.” Remus turns around and leans on the counter to find Reg just messing with a fork left on the counter, spinning it on a prong. “Spit it out.”

“I just- I don’t know, I have kinda been… looking into some stuff that maybe I’m not just-” Remus has lived with Reg long enough to be able to pick up on his panicking. So he watches as Reg balances from one foot to the other, squeezing his hands into fists and opening them again.

“Hey, hey, Reg it’s okay.” Remus walks over to him and smiles, he doesn’t touch him but he lets him know he is there for him by looking him in the eyes for a moment and smiling. “You can tell me anything, I will be there for you no matter what.”

“I don’t think I’m… Maybe I’m not cis?”

“Here.” Finn dumps his bag onto Logan as he pulls out his keys to open the apartment. “Do you think Leo is waiting for us like a little puppy?”

“No.” Logan rolls his eyes and shifts the bag on his shoulder. “But we should definitely get a dog.” The door opens and all the lights are off, Leo’s boots are by the welcome mat so that means he is home. The tv is still on the NHL station playing highlights from what looks to be the Penguins and the Knights.

Walking over to the couch Finn smiles at what he sees, Leo wrapped up in a blanket with his hood up and his arm over the edge of the couch. His phone is on the ground below his hand, Finn picks it up and places it on the coffee table as Logan turns the tv off. They already dropped his stuff off at Dumo’s and will be staying the night but going back tomorrow morning. Finn reaches out and runs the back of his pointer finger over Leo’s soft face.

Leo might be a manly-man but he still can’t grow facial hair properly.

Finn moved his hand to push the hood down from Leo’s head and kiss his forehead, expecting to feel his soft hair but instead he felt prickles. He jolts his hand back from the shock and puts it over his mouth as he silently freaks out over the short hair. He waves his hand behind him until he grabs Logan's arm from where he was texting his parents that he got home safe and yanks him down so he lands on his ass next to where Finn is squatting.

“He has no hair!” Finn whispers-yells into Logan's ear. Logan spins around on his now sore tailbone and looks at Leo’s uncovered head. “Oh my god why does it look good!” Logan leans forward and notices a tattoo they have never seen before.

“Is that a strawberry? He has a strawberry tattoo.” Logan lighty pets over the inked fruit and smiles. “Aww how soft of him.” They both get up. “ We should let him sleep, nothing we ever do is too loud to wake him up. He SLeeps like a brick.” Logan takes Finn's hand as they grab the bag and start to unpack most of it.

Leo sleeps for a good hour before his body tells him to get up. Slowly sitting up he notices the tv is off and hears chattering in the kitchen. Standing up as quick as he can and slipping on his blanket a little he stumbles over to his boys and engulfs Finn in a hug. Surprising him.

“Good morning sleeping beauty.” Finn hugs him back.

“Let me in!” Logan scurries over to them and Leo opens his arms to hug both his boys. He picks them up a little and squeezes them, causing Logan to laugh and Finn to suffocate.

“Leo- I can't breathe.” Finn smiles but also can’t breathe. Leo lets them down and gives them both welcome home kisses. “Your hair looks great by the way, so short it shows off your face.” Finn ruffles his hair and accidentally bumps Leo's thigh.

“Ouch, that hurt a little.” Leo backs away a bit and puts a hand on his thigh. The boys looked at each other quizzically, causing Leo to pull up the leg of his shorts to show them his new tattoo.

“Oh my god! What is that!” Logan and Finn both bend down to get a better look at the blob of ink under the clear film. “Okay… for real what is it? Your ink sac is in the way….”

“Ew don’t call it that.” Leo smiles and looks down at the said blob. “It’s a pinup, she is actually based off that picture of Logan in your jersey, she has a mix of y’alls features and is also the only color tattoo I have… because she is so special.” Leo has the sappiest look on his face as he describes her. “You like?”

“I love… we should name her! I vote Matilda!” Logan smiles proud of the name he thought of.

“No, we need a better name! I like Veronica.” FInn and Logan continue to argue over names as Leo feeds his aggressive fish that Clay graciously named ‘Finlo… get it because Finn and Logan. Because it's red like Finn and mean like Logan!’ The name stuck somehow.

“Guys, guys. She can have two different names.” Leo smiles at them and leans against the counter. Watching them narrow their eyes at each other until one of them looks away.

“Fine! But can we have sex now? You know what your tattoos do to me, and now that you have one that has something to do to me.” Finn sighs and walks towards Leo who spins them around with a hand on either side of Finn. “whoa.”

“Sure we can, but we can’t fuck up her face… so I want to watch you and Lo.”

When Thomas walks in the door he is met with the cutest sight. Clay is asleep on Nolles chest on the couch with a back of frozen peas on his ass. Walking in and giving Noelle a kiss, he sits down next to them on the ground, reaching to grab Clay’s hand that is squished under him. He gets Clay’s hand and kisses the back of it.

“How long has he been asleep?”

“He was just pacing around the room and running to the window like a dog every time one of the neighbors slammed their car doors. It was really cute, but then I could tell his back and booty were hurting so I made him lay down and ice. He was not happy with me.” Noelle smiles and pets his hair back as Thomas leans in for another kiss, which she happily accepts.

“We need to sit down and talk with him about our sexlife, he definitely wasn’t what I expected in bed. A lot less ‘I want to be in control’ than I thought. He was very submissive and basically let me do what I wanted to him.” They both look down at the sleeping man. “He really really liked being fucked though. He said he has only been fucked once before, I think, but if he loved it that much then why has he never done it again?” Noelle furrows her brows in a way that means she is looking deep into the meaning of something.

“We just need to talk with him, I don’t think he would ever keep a secret from us unless it's really bad. I trust him, he obviously trusts us enough to A) Let you fuck him and B) Let us call while it is happening.” Noelle nods after a moment and sighs.

“We should wake him up, I want to use those peas for dinner tonight.”

“I’ll do it, he will probably jump on me.” Thomas smiles and scoots down until he is face to face with Clay, nudging him with his hand for a bit as he watches as those big puppy dog eyes open. They blink a few times and then finally focus on Thomas. “Hi.” The smile on Clay’s face blooms happiness in Thomas’ chest and before he knows it, Clay is off of Noelle and into his arms.

“Mm missed you.” Clay mumbles into Thomas’ neck and breathes him in. He smells like his cologne and a hint of sweat. Clay loves it. He pulls away a little as Noelle kisses both their foreheads and walks to the kitchen with the bag of peas in hand. Looking back to Thomas, Clay gets comfy by sitting between Thomas’ legs and hooking his ankles behind his back. His arms around his neck, just pressing their foreheads together as Clay’s still sleepy eyelids close.

“You’re so warm.” Thomas pulls away to cup Clay's face and smiles when Clay leans into one of his hands, keeping his eyes closed. His naturally curled lashes rest on his smooth cheeks. “You’re so beautiful.” Clay’s eyes open and he turns slightly red.

“No one has ever called me beautiful before…”

“You are, you are so beautiful.” Clay is looking at Thomas with a mix of millions of emotions flashing across his face.

“I don’t know how to respond.”

“You don’t need to. But that means I should keep telling you until you do know how to respond.” Leaning in their lips meet and they both smile.

Everything felt so right.

A week passed, Thomas and Noelle were busy with work and school, leaving Clay alone for most of the day. It was starting to take an effect on Clay as well. Yes He would walk around town with Tina when he was bored and his friends were busy or sleeping. He would hide William in places that he knew would make Thomas scream and run away. He also continued making little origami hats for William.

Tina hasn’t left his side recently and Clay really appreciates him greatly for that.

“Tina! Food time!” Clay puts Tina’s food in his bowl as William continues to tunnel his way through Clay’s hair. He doesn’t know why but William loves crawling in his hair. Thomas hates it because William scares him when he goes to Kiss Clay on the top of his head… and there is a snake there.

Clay goes to put William back in his enclosure, while he is closing the lid to the enclosure he hears the front door open and Noelle and Thomas call out at the same time.

“We’re home!” Noelle takes off her boots and hat and shakes out her hair from the snow flakes in it. Yesterday was the first snow Clay has ever seen, it was adorable. He ran outside in his shorts and sweatshirt. Standing in the middle of their tiny front yard and staring up at the gloomy yet bright sky as the flakes of snow land on his face.

He was looking up in awe while being barefoot on the damp grass since there wasn’t enough snow to stick and stay. He danced around getting his feet and legs all muddy. Thomas took a couple pictures of the flakes landing on Clay’s hair and eyelashes because Clay wants to remember this for the rest of his life.

They picked up the pictures on the way home today, Clay wants to add them to his little knick-knack collection. Clay is like a penguin in the way he loves to bring people he loves, little things from bobble heads to rocks and sticks that look like wands.

Thomas and Noelle both had a box that was almost already full.

“Hi! I missed you.” Clay runs into the room and hugs them both, giving them a bunch of smooches. “How was today?” Clay hovers around them as they unpack the groceries and the pictures, Thomas hugs him from behind and kisses his ear, making Clay laugh by biting it.

“Today was good, but we need to sit down and talk about our sexlife tonight.” Thomas mumbles in his ear and Noelle nods in agreement.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not, we just need to talk about what you like and don’t like.” Pinching his cheek Noelle smiles at him and Clay instantly relaxes, but he’s worried about what they will ask.

“Can we just talk now? I'm pretty open to everything. I’ll do anything you want me to!” His heart starts to pick up because he doesn’t want them to leave him because of things he doesn’t like in bed… he can always suck it up for them. Because he really likes them.

“Clay there has to be somethings you don’t like, I mean I personally don’t want to ever bottom. It scares me and yes I trust you both but it’s not something I’m interested in.”

“I like so be in charge during sex, so being bossed around really isn’t something I’m into. I also don’t really like anything like impact play… just no thanks.” Noelle hands Clay the can of Kiwi Apple Redbull he asked for earlier. He just holds it while he thinks.

“ I guess maybe… I don’t want to be tied up… unless you want me to be! Then I will!” He holds his Red Bull to his chest, really wishing it gave him wings to fly away from this conversation.

“Clay, we aren’t going to ask you to do anything you don’t want too, that’s why we are having this conversation, because communication and boundaries are important.” Thomas let’s go of Clay and walks over to where Noelle is trying to reach a cup on the top shelf that he puts there out of habit. He gets it down for her and they turn back to Clay. “You okay?”

“Umm I- I need to…” he’s trying to think of an excuse to leave because he wants to believe that they won’t leave him if he says no to something they do want but a voice in the back of his head sounding scarily like Ashley is telling him they will do whatever they want to him and he has to like it… or they will leave and find someone else. “I need to go to the barn!” Clay takes his RedBull and the keys to his new pick up and sprints out the door. Leaving the people he… really really likes behind.

He gets into the truck and turns it on and starts driving, with no place to go. Jesus, Take the Wheel by Carrie Underwood comes on over the radio and he listens to it for a couple of seconds before shutting the radio off as he pulls into a parking spot. He gets out and starts walking like his body is on autopilot. He doesn’t realise where he is until he is unlocking the door to Finn and Leo’s apartment with the key Finn gave him.

“Hey Clay.” Finn waves from the couch as he reads his book that Clay doesn’t care enough about to actually look and see what it is. “Leo’s in the kitchen.”

Clay walks into the kitchen after kicking off his boots that he doesn't remember putting on. Leo takes one look at him and knows.

Handing him a spoon, Leo points to the recipe he’s making from his mother's cookbook.

Chicken and Dumpling (minus the chicken)

Clay and Leo work silently together making this soup. Eventually Finn tells them he is going to pick up and take Logan home from the tattoo shop where he just got his half black and grey Japanese style sleeve done. He leaves the apartment.

“Should I tell them about Ashley?”

“If you feel comfortable enough too.”

“And if I don’t?” Leo looks at him and wraps a supportive arm around his shoulder as he stirs the simmering soup.

“They will understand.” Clay stays for dinner that night, eating with Leo and Finn. Clay and Finn talk about flesh pedestrians that Leo doesn’t believe in but add his thoughts into. After they finish eating Clay decides to go back home… yeah, home.

He walks in the front door and is suddenly off the ground in a vice grip hug.

“I told him you went to Leo’s but he didn’t believe me!” Noelle shouts from the other room, as she finishes chucking some socks in the dryer because Thomas would somehow manage to burn the house down.

“I was so worried! Are you okay? Did we upset you?” Thomas has set Clay down and is examining every inch of him. “You smell like soup.”

“I ate soup.” Clay smiles and hugs Thomas again, much softer. “I’m okay, I just am not used to people caring about what I like in bed. With my last girlfriend I was just told to take what she gave me and like it… so I’m sorry for just running out like that.”

“Hey it’s okay, but a text would have been nice.” Noelle joins in the hug and smiles at him. “Do you want to tell us anything else about her?” Clay shakes his head and Noelle and Thomas share a worried look but then nod because it’s not their story to know. “How about we go have a cuddle in bed and fall asleep to some terrible ghost hunting show? Yeah?”

“I’d love that.” And I love you. Clay thinks that in his mind for the very first time as he watched them walk to the bedroom. He loves them.

“I’ll have water too, thanks.” Finn was out at lunch with Sirius, Remus, James and Thomas. They all haven’t been able to hang out outside of practice recently so it felt nice.

“So, how are the boyyyyssss?” James puts his elbows on the table and flutters his eyelashes at Finn and Thomas who can’t help but chuckle.

“Leo is doing great, a little cold but great. He recently got a new tattoo that is a pinup girl of me and Logan mixed together and phew… it’s really hot.” Finn smiles and feels his phone go off but decides to ignore it for now. “How about Clay?”

“Clay and Noelle both got new tattoos, clays is vampire bites on his neck and Noelles is a Medusa with tentacles for hair on her Bicep. Pretty sexy.”

“I’ve always wanted a tattoo.” James smiles at the waitress who brings them their waters and straws, he shoots the straw wrapper at Sirius and then gulps down half his water. “I always chicken out though.”

“We should get together sometime.” Sirius flicks some of his water and James while he offers to get a tattoo with him. “What about you? Do you want one?”

“I’d rather have a piercing than a tattoo but I’m not against getting one.” Remus continues looking at the menu as he sips his own water.

As the conversation dies down a little Finn checks his phone, it’s a snap notification from Leo. Finn goes to open it thinking that it’s probably a video of him and logan having another stupid contest. What he is met with makes him choke on his water and start coughing but so he doesn’t miss anything he saves the video to chat.

The video is kinda dim but you can clearly see Logan, beautiful Logan, with his hands tied wrist to elbow behind his back as they stand in front of a mirror. Logan’s face is resting cheek to Leo’s chest so Finn can see his panting and whining. His hair is long enough it’s covering his eyes and most of his nose. All he can see of Leo is part of his chest that Logan is covering, the arm holding up the phone, his smirk that shows off his dimples… and his other hand that is currently fingering Logan.

He can see a bunch of Leo’s tattoos but it’s so dark he can only make out the Egyptian beetle on his neck. He watches as Logan jerks a little from what he knows is Leo hitting his prostate and at the end it looks like Logan whines ‘Finn’ but he has his volume off so he can’t hear it.

Fuck… now he can’t wait to get home.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

22 notes · View notes