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kei-luv · 2 years ago

Note

Oh! I’m so glad I wasn’t bothering you and I wanted to leave a request if you don’t mind too much :)

Vance x male reader where Vance first interaction is when reader left a single blue bell flower when he had an argument with his parents and then it became a daily routine where a flower would be on his windowsill until he caught reader in the act which just was a thank you from Vance and then they became close. Reader takes care of a flower garden and invites Vance to hang out with him where they talk and Vance helps out watering and planting saplings, and when some boys tried to make a mess of the garden Vance immediately started to fight them as reader was trying to pry him off of them. I imagine them having green tea on a cold winter day while walking down the street in fluffy jackets

Thank you for doing my request and I hope you have a good day :)

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆. 𝗠𝘆 𝗳𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿

Note: And thank you so much for requesting! I'm really liking tbp requests, and I've just been waiting for someone to ask me to write smth abt it. I also really like the ideas you give me, so it's a lot easier for me to write about Vance.

───

tw: Vance Hopper in general, family argument, cussing, Reader is very sweet to Vance, Vance beating the hell out of someone, and mentions of blood. genre: angst?/fluff reader: male characters: vance hopper

Word Count: 1,541 Masterlist

Everyone was aware of the notorious 'Pinball' Vance Hopper, who made his name by brutally beating a number of people just for being close to his pinball machine at the Grab N' Go, where he spent the majority of his time.

But nobody was aware of his family's circumstances, his relationship with his parents, or the extraordinary number of fights they had. Furthermore, Vance's parents got upset upon finding out their son had beaten up yet another person.

The constant arguments between him and his parents, which occurred almost every day, were just too much for the blonde. The teenage boy was thus startled when he entered his room one day to find a bouquet of bluebells and a note neatly arranged on top of his bed, with his windowsill wide open.

The boy slowly made his way to his bed and picked up the note, which read, "Something to make you feel a little bit better today :)" Uncertain of how he should feel, Vance reluctantly picked up the bouquet, sat down on his bed, and silently regarded the flowers.

The following few weeks continued in this pattern, with Vance arriving home later than usual, fighting with his parents once more, and then entering his room to find a fresh bouquet of bluebells and a note on his bed.

Vance soon developed a keen interest in the person who kept giving him bouquets of flowers, because whoever it was must’ve known about his reputation and the name he had given himself, and he had several questions about why they would do so.

How they even managed to open his window after he locked it, why they left a bouquet of bluebells on his bed, and why they wrote such kind notes to him.

Vance was looking for clarification, and he's going to make sure he gets them.

---

The following morning, Vance made the decision to stay in, leaving his house to fool his parents into thinking he was going to school, only to return once he realized they had left.

In an effort to catch the person who had left him the flowers in the act, he made the decision to wait outside the door to his bedroom while listening for any noise that would indicate someone opening his window.

With no sign of anyone entering, the minutes quickly turned into hours. Standing from the floor and heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water, Vance heaved a long sigh.

Vance was about to start drinking when he heard a loud thud coming from his room. Out of instinct, he dropped the glass on the kitchen island and ran to his room, where he opened the door to find someone he never would have suspected of being the flower culprit.

"[LastName]? So you were the one who kept leaving those damn flowers these past few weeks?"

Before clearing his throat, [Name] remained silent and appeared to still be in shock from being caught. He glanced away from the blonde in embarrassment.

"Uhm..I noticed you looked a lot more..grumpier than usual. So I just thought, well, y'know..I thought maybe if I left you these flowers, you'd feel a bit better.."

[Name] muttered softly under his breath, but Vance undoubtedly caught what he said, and he couldn't help but feel his heart flutter as it always did when he was near the [h/c].

[Name] [LastName], the only person who has ever approached him normally, the only person who never appeared to be scared of him, and the only person that 'Pinball' Vance Hopper wanted to spend his time with.

So the realization that [Name] was the person who left those flowers on Vance's bed almost every day caused his heart to race, and for once, Vance found the sensation to be quite pleasant.

"Oh..well, you could’ve just given them to me in person, you didn't have to act so fucking anonymous. If it were someone else, I would’ve beaten the shit out of them y'know."

Vance spoke while rubbing his nape in an attempt to conceal his flushed face from [Name], who could only stifle a laugh.

"Well, I'm glad you wouldn’t actually beat me up. But uh..did they make you feel a little better..?"

[Name] inquired, hoping that perhaps a small part of Vance was pleased to have received the bluebell bouquet. Vance let out a soft whisper, and [Name] couldn't help but wonder what the blonde had said.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" [Name] asked, hoping that the blonde wouldn't just give him a grunt as always, but would actually repeat his response to him.

"Tch, I said fucking yeah..dumbass." Vance muttered in a stern tone while glaring at the [h/c], but [Name] was aware that it wasn't a bad thing. The [h/c] was delighted to learn that Vance had liked the flowers he had given him over the previous few weeks.

"Well..I'll see you around then? I've already finished what I needed to do, so I'll get going now."

[Name] said, approaching the window as he started to climb outside, waving goodbye to the blonde who was only observing as the boy left, heaving a deep sigh to quiet his racing heart, and then shutting his window.

"Fucking dumbass.." Vance muttered under his breath as he sat on his bed and looked down at the bouquet of bluebells next to him, wearing a small smile on his face.

---

The two started to hang out more frequently after that, and [Name] eventually invited Vance over to help him with the backyard garden.

[Name] spent time teaching Vance about various flower meanings, and Vance assisted in planting and caring for the flowers. The two enjoyed their time together very much.

Vance was on his way to [Name]'s house when he heard a loud cry and some boys laughing in the [LastName] family's backyard. He immediately ran to the source of the sound.

"Stop that! Get the hell off me!" The voice of [Name] screamed out as he struggled to free himself from one of the boys' grip on him and prevent the other two from destroying the garden.

The boy who was holding onto [Name] was quickly approached by Vance, who then punched him in the face while the other two boys were caught off guard and abruptly stopped what they were doing.

"Shit! It's Vance Hopper!" One of the two boys muttered as they witnessed Vance punch the boy repeatedly and without mercy even as blood spurted from his nose.

"Vance, stop! You'll get yourself into more trouble if you keep hurting him!"

[Name] shouted, attempting to free Vance from the boy he had just assaulted. With a scoff, Vance stopped and let the [h/c] pull him away from the now-unconscious teen, staring down at the two other boys who tensed at the harsh glare.

"If you even think of coming back here again, I'll beat your ass way fucking worse than what he got."

Both boys quickly nodded in response to Vance's warning, grabbed their friend, and ran out of the backyard. Vance and [Name] were left alone in the now-messy garden.

With a heavy sigh, [Name] grabbed Vance's wrist and dragged him inside his house so he could treat his bloody and bruised knuckles. "You go ahead and take a seat, I'll just go and get the aid kit."

Vance settled down on the couch without any complaints and patiently awaited [Name]'s return with the first aid kit.

"Hands out," Back in the living room, [Name] gave the command as he took a seat next to Vance, who immediately complied. [Name] had a wet cloth in his hand, and started wiping the blood off the blonde's knuckles. Vance hissed from the stinging sensation.

"You know you didn't have to do that, right?"

[Name] spoke, his eyes fixed on Vance's bloody knuckles as he took an antibiotic cream out of the first aid kit and started to apply it to the wound, Vance only stared at [Name].

"Did you really expect me to just stand there and watch as those fuckers ruin all of your hard work? Yeah, I don't fucking think so."

Vance responded, his eyes slowly lowering to [Name]'s hands as they started to delicately bandage his knuckles. [Name]'s lips started to flutter into a gentle smile.

"Well, that should do it." [Name] finished bandaging the wound, beaming up at his accomplishment as Vance smirked.

"Yeah, thanks." Vance murmured, lying back on the couch as he closed his eyes. He had not noticed [Name]'s longing gaze on him who decided to lay back next to him as well.

The two were practically glued to each other on the couch as [Name] linked his arm with Vance's, his hand holding his, and his head lying on Vance's shoulder.

Usually, after finishing the garden or after Vance had beaten someone and [Name] had to tend to his wounds, the two would perform these kinds of acts together.

The simple act of holding each other or even just being close to each other has always made them feel calm, at peace, and loved. They have always enjoyed these kinds of moments together as friends.

But who knows—possibly they'd become more than just friends in the future.

AN: I had no idea how to end this, a part of me was thinking of just making them confess to each other, but another part of me just felt like leaving that up to your imagination, or something like that. Also, send more tbp requests, I need them.

©KEI-LUV. please do not translate or repost any of my work on any other platform, or claim any of it as your own. 2023

#vance hopper x male reader #the black phone x male reader #vance hopper #xreader #the black phone #tbp #x male reader #fluffy shit #male reader #tbp x male reader

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sentientstump · 6 months ago

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Stump! What was the first video game you played?

Whoa! I actually don't know... let me think

do mobile games count? if so then i think it would be either a cowboy flying game (Johnny Crash does Texas) (what a name) on my Sony Ericsson flip phone or a Bounce game on my Nokia phone

OR WAIT HOLD ON my moms cooler nokia phone had games on it as well!!! IT HAD A SHREK THE THIRD GAME I REMEMBER THAT (IT REQUIRED SO MUCH SKILL WITH 1-9 BUTTONS GRAHH), and also a building game? and a who wants to be a millionaire game, so now i don't truly know which of these could be the first one, im sorry 😭😭

this is such a cool question, i want to answer it for my own sake, let me have this guys-

i think its safe to assume i also got on parents' pcs at work. So then it could be windows pinball or minesweeper or any of those card games. Does windows paint count? I thought it was a game.

I happened to also have a mock-up of a laptop that taught you letters and numbers and stuff, let me find it real quick.

close...? but it was way chunkier and red and teal sorta. ...i mean, this had videogames! although kinda junky, i remember feeling like it was not truly fair. so it counts

or maybe my bro playing final fantasy (or something) on borrowed console on our huge (cube) tv, he was fighting someone and also he said that the yellow ostrich was called chocobo or something

maybe it could be that connect two tiles pokemon game. Speaking of pokemon it could be a rom on pc! Fire Red on bro's laptop! It could be a final fantasy isometric rpg game again (i searched for it several weeks ago and was so disappointed that it was FF again, my bro is a NERD jkjk you got this bro💪🏻✨)

maybe it could be on relatives PC, such as gta san andreas, assassin's creed, alavar games, lego star wars; relatives PSP with loco roco, naruto fighting game, simpsons movie game? with chocolate bunnies, pirates of carribbean; on childhood friend's PSP little big planet; ГРИБНАЯ ЭРА (ITS NY FAVOURITE GAME although it had a unskippable graphics error in one of the minigames, in Nostradamus brain specifically, but other than that it was great!!!!) and some лунтик learning game on PC my dad got from somewhere; lion king learning game? i honestly have the vaguest memories of it, смешарики параллельные миры ALSO MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE on our old pc, Beyond Good and Evil game where the bosses were spoopy :c (also listen to the voice acting in the first 30!!! seconds, holy smokes)

i think I've covered all of the bases here. tbh i still have no idea which one of these could be the first one... ^^"

my bets on mom's phone ones LOL

#ough that was a lot of research for something so small #but i had fun! thank you for this ask :D #mmm nodstalgia...#lucidowl moment #answeringstump #textstump

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hiddenobject-fanblog · 1 month ago

Text

His Soul (Chapter 21)

Separated

Summary: After saving the abducted collectors, you were trusted with Curioso's box. What seems like a dangerous possession slowly turns into an opportunity to learn more about this creature and his curse. Can you earn his trust, and possibly, his affection?

Pairings: Curioso/Reader, Curioso/The Detective

After the dessert course was finished, you were dragged into a crowd which led you into the recreation room. Everyone around you started games of cards, pool, darts, and pinball. This was the only normal part of your time here, as no one bothered using their magic to push their cue sticks and press buttons on a machine. You assumed there was an unspoken rule here forbidding any sorcery, to prevent anyone from cheating.��

With those expectations out of the way, you were not asked to perform any more tricks or show off your ‘fire’. Instead, you did your part having conversations with other club members. You tried asking about what was going to happen to you tomorrow morning, but everyone you talked to refused to spill their big secret. You’d even tried learning the source of this club’s wealth, but they were incredibly modest about their exorbitant lifestyle.

Curioso was silent during your time there. You knew he was trying not to interrupt or distract you…but it made you feel strange. It seemed like he had talked too much when the two of you started working together, but now it was like something was missing. As if Curioso’s commentary was essential to your investigation.

“Are you still there?” you asked your sleeve quietly while the rest of the room was starting their poker game.

“I am,” he whispered back.

You relaxed on the stool you were sitting on. It was such a ridiculous thing - he promised not to leave your side, yet here you were thinking he’d be elsewhere with better things to do. You needed to focus.

When their heads were clearly wrapped in their game, you took this opportunity to leave, claiming you were exhausted and wanted to head back to your room. No one questioned you as you quickly exited the room and sped down the hallways. You didn’t want to get stopped again and roped into doing something else. For now, you were going to bide your time until the night got late enough and you were positive everybody was asleep. These people had to rest sometime .

You were alone again in your room with Curioso, who sat across from you and presented some new cards you’d never seen before. You figured playing a game or two together would help the time fly by. You had a cup of coffee at your side that you sipped from, to help you stay awake for the long night ahead of you.

You blinked curiously at him as you read the name of the pack in his hands.

“ Skip-Bo ? Never played it before,” you drummed your fingers on the table as he shuffled the cards.

What a sight that was - it almost looked like each card was moving by itself as he performed a riffle and bridge shuffle. Your eyes were locked on his hands as they did their magic.

“It was the only game my family ever wanted to play with me,” he bowed his head as he arranged the cards. “Probably because I wasn’t very good at it, so they had an easy win.”

“Huh,” you eyed your hand of cards that he gave to you. They were different colors and numbers, reminding you of a game more familiar to you. “Most families play Uno . Ever heard of it?”

“The kids at school played that one. I was never…invited into those games,” his voice softened as he took off his top hat and faced you, “This is like a solitaire card game. It’s a little complicated at first, but you’re smart, so you should get the hang of it pretty quickly.��

You smiled modestly, and spent the next hour or two learning how to play this new game between you and Curioso. It involved a lot of counting and thinking, so your mind was constantly working. After some point, it was easy to forget that you were supposed to be by your lonesome, as you stopped listening for any footsteps by the door and allowed yourself to be completely engrossed in his company.

It was so easy to fall into a comfortable state when you were around him. You’ve been on so many cases by yourself with no one to help or accompany you. Now that you had a friend who was always close by, it was hard to feel alone anymore. Curioso was incredibly pleasant as a companion - as he did a good job keeping you busy and often made you smile and laugh. You no longer felt any tension or weariness from your early days with him…he had your complete trust and attention now.

Judging by his eagerness to spend this time with you, you assumed the feeling was returned.

“Those kids missed out for sure,” you sniffed as you watched him make his final play. “You’re a lot of fun to play with.”

“I don’t recall you feeling this way the last time we played Monopoly ,” he grinned.

“Yeah, well, that game can tear people apart. You’re lucky we’re still talking after that stunt you pulled.”

He laughed, collecting the cards and allowing them to disappear in thin air. “And you’re a lovely opponent yourself. I’m honored to play with you.”

You looked away, but allowed the smile to remain on your face. He complimented you so often you wondered if you would ever be close to returning the favor to him. “I’m sorry your childhood was so lonely. If it makes you feel any better, I was the last one picked for all the field games.”

He tilted his mask at you. “Was it because you were a nerd?”

“What? No ! I was…just that weird kid who took a lot of pictures with my camera my dad gave to me, and made a big deal about missing jackets or people going to the bathroom for too long.”

Curioso almost sounded proud. “You grew up to be a detective.”

“Yep,” you puffed your chest out in pride. “I played a lot of Clue back in those days. I’ve settled a lot of disputes and mysteries during recess.”

Your friend looked down at the table, drawing imaginary lines into the wood with the tip of his mechanical finger. “I never knew what I wanted to be when I was young. Never really…had the chance to do what I wanted.”

Your smile fell as sympathy washed over you. “...You were taken pretty early, weren’t you?”

“I was thirteen. The only thing I really liked to do was make sculptures and doodle on my homework. Maybe if I had gone to high school, I would have joined art class. I don’t really know.”

You frowned as you watched his hands move. Again, you found yourself wishing you could have saved him in time. Done something. “Well…you make a fine partner to a detective. You’re a good investigator.”

“It’s funny, I would have never imagined myself doing any of this.”

“I mean, you were the one who wanted to join me and read all about my investigations. Maybe you had an interest in all of this without really knowing it.”

“Or maybe I was just interested in you ,” he countered.

The blood rushed to your face. “Ah…but why would…” you refused to see his mask as you sat there not knowing how to react. You stood to your feet slowly. “What time is it?”

He pretended to check his watch. “It’s 2 A.M. Do you think now’s time to snoop around?”

You grinned. “You know it.”

You shrugged on a dark coat around your person, to help hide you in the shadows as you tiptoed around the clubhouse. You haven’t been here long enough to know how to avoid any creaky floorboards, so you were extra cautious as you walked down the halls. Things were quiet and there were less lights on, the ones aiding your way were incredibly dim. You could only hear muffled voices and sounds of televisions from rooms you passed - but no one was out in the open anymore.

You relaxed as you smoothly made your way across the main room. You were feeling confident you’d find what you need without any hassle. And if anyone did find you-

“Hey!”

You jumped at the sound of a voice and reflexively pressed yourself against a nearby wall. Your eyes frantically shot around in the dark but you couldn’t find anybody. Curiously, you peeked around the corner to peer in the next room, where you saw Aydan standing across from Elise, his arms crossed and his face twisted in displeasure. You’d only seen him smiling during your time here, so the expression took you by surprise.

The room they were in was clearly a separate bar, as there were shelves lined with fine liquor and taps for beer, with stools arranged around the counter. You wondered how you’d missed this earlier.

“You know better than to give out second glasses,” his voice darkened in warning. “Now we’re running low on tequila.”

“I apologize,” Elise responded, her hands clasped tightly together at her waist. She looked as stiff as cardboard. “I had miscounted. May I summon you some more?”

“You know that’s not what I’m concerned about,” he took a step closer to her, his orange eyes burning like the flames of fire. “What message do we leave when I allow you to give our guests more than they are promised? They will start expecting more , and you know as well as I that we cannot have that.”

“Yes, sir.” she whispered quickly.

“Come here.”

He took a seat on one of the stools and beckoned her over. She stood still for only a second longer before slowly walking over to where he was. Your eyes widened as you watched him hastily pull her up, setting her on his lap and gripping her suit tightly in his hands, scrunching up the fine material. Your jaw fell open when Aydan grabbed the back of her invisible head and forced his mouth onto…what could only be hers .

Even without a face to meet his, you could tell the kiss was forced and painful. A feminine whimper was heard in the air as he forced his tongue into her mouth. At this point, you turned away from the scene, feeling sick from what you were seeing. You would think watching a man tongue-kiss the air wouldn’t be so bad, but it was Elise’s cries that reminded you it was real. The way her gloved hands tried pushing him away from her, only for Aydan to practically crush her body against his own…

After what felt like an eternity, you opened your eyes. He pushed her off of him like he wanted nothing to do with her and Elise stumbled a little against the wall.

“Have I made my point clear?” he asked sternly.

“Yes.”

“Do not let this happen again, or I will have this discussion with you upstairs. We are not a charity.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Stock all the alcohol and clean the rooms when you’re done. I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night.”

He sauntered away and Elise slumped on the counter when he was gone. Your eyes were locked on her, your feet refusing to move. So your suspicions were right. She must be a prisoner under Aydan, but it went…much further than you presumed. He was imposing himself and assaulting her. It sickened you to realize that people could do this to their magical servants and get away with it…since their soul was bound to them, and there was no possible way for them to fight back, lest they get punished…

“My god,” you muttered under your breath. “I can’t believe he can do that to her.”

“I can.”

“Did…” you sucked in a breath harshly. “Did your enchantress ever-”

“No. She just kept me in her control and hurt me when she was angry.”

Your eyes threatened to swell with tears, but you swallowed your anger down. You let out a breath to calm yourself, and your heart twisted to hear Elise crying as she arranged the liquor bottles. You couldn’t just walk away from this.

“Please, go talk to her,” you clutched your bag closer to your person. “Let her know she’s not alone. That she’s not the only one of you here.”

“And what do I tell her when she asks who I belong to?”

You shrugged. “Tell her it could be anybody here. Lie about it for all I care. Just…make her feel better.”

“But, Detective…we need to search their files. Gather our evidence. Without me -”

“Open the door for me, and I’ll go and get everything myself. I’ll meet you in our room when I’m done.”

There was a pregnant pause where you watched Elise polish the glasses with shaking hands. You could sense he did not like this idea, you weren’t too big on being alone without him here either, but your concern for her outweighed everything else right now. After a moment, a flash came before you, and you watched as Curioso, dressed in his ensemble, approached her and tipped his top hat to her. There was an audible gasp as the glass she was holding slipped from her hands - only for your jester to reach forward and catch it before it could land.

The last thing either of you needed was for him to get discovered.

“Hello,” he offered politely, setting it back in her hand. You could tell he was tense, but at least he was being friendly.

“You…you’re…” she sounded breathless, pointing at him. “Who are you?”

“My name is Curioso,” he took the liberty of seating himself while Elise scrambled to set the glass down and face him properly.

“You’re one of us,” she said in disbelief. You quirked your head in the background. ‘Us’?

“I am. There’s no need to be afraid, I promise.”

He lowered his arm and made a movement with his hand in your direction. You got the signal and moved on, reluctantly pulling yourself from the doorway and quickly sliding by in the darkness. You had to be fast while the door was uncovered. You did not want anyone stumbling upon it and seeing that someone was searching around.

You finally reached the hallway you were in earlier today and gawked at the door that now stood where it hadn’t before. But you wasted no time, heading straight for it and closing the door behind you. You even locked it for good measure, turning around and observing the hidden room for yourself.

It was an office, but this one had lots of filing cabinets and filled bookshelves. You got to work searching through these shelves using a small flashlight clutched between your teeth, taking note of what was there and grabbing what you were sure they wouldn’t miss. There were records and logs, but no dossiers. Those must all be in Aydan’s office. You busied yourself grabbing folders detailing this organization, tucking it all away in your bag to be thoroughly read through later. If you were quick here, you’d have the rest of the night to learn everything you could and contact the police.

You tried opening a filing cabinet, only to find that it was locked. You swore under your breath as you wasted some more time searching for a key or a lockpick. It took far too long for you to uncover the hidden key tucked in the window sill. The moment you had it, you unlocked the drawers and began your hunt. After several minutes, you reached for a folder and opened it, smiling when you saw the address of the building you previously investigated.

Finally!

Figuring you were done here, you slipped out of the room and tucked your bag out of sight. It was incredible luck to have no one stumble upon you in there. Or to hear anyone walking down that hallway. Having Elise distracted must’ve worked to your advantage. She would’ve been the likeliest one to find you tonight. You hoped her conversation with Curioso was going well right now.

You were close to reaching your room until you felt someone grab your sleeve. You let out a cry and turned around harshly, only to meet the eyes of the telekinesis man you’d met earlier. For a second there, you thought Aydan had caught you. You eased down the second you realized they weren’t orange eyes.

“Good evening, mate,” he grinned at you, sounding just as friendly as last time. “Sorry for the scare.”

You calmed down and made sure to keep your bag out of view, waving him off. “No worries. I was just going to the bathroom.”

You noticed his expression had changed, eying you with a confused look on his face, but he quickly wiped it and replaced it with a smile. He shook his head, muttering something to himself, and you shifted uncomfortably.

“Say, I hate to bother ya’, but the fire went out in my room. Can’t get it to light again. Was wonderin’ if you could help me?”

You shook your head, fully aware that you were not under Curioso’s protection right now. “Sorry, I’m pretty exhausted from today.”

“C’mon. It’ll be real quick and it won’t be much on you,” he paused before adding, “This place is freezing at night!”

“Sorry, I just want to go back to my room and rest. I can help you tomorrow.”

He looked at you oddly, and you did your best to appear as sluggish as you could, despite having caffeine in your system. After a second, he nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off you. “Okay, mate. Have a good night.”

His tone was flat and you got the feeling that he wasn’t very happy with you. You recognized suspicion in his eyes - and you froze, realizing that you did not have…what did Curioso keep calling it? An ‘aura’ ? He said you did not have one, and without him on your person, it was obvious to anyone around you that you did not possess magical powers.

You were so confident this wouldn’t happen, but you let yourself slip out of concern for Elise. Crap .

“Uh, thanks. You, too.”

With that, you sped-walked away, glancing behind your shoulder to check if he was following you. Thankfully, he remained where he was, eying you until you left his sight. From there, you rushed to your room, and closed the door behind you with a turn of the lock. You kept your body pressed against it for a minute longer, keeping an ear out to listen if he followed your direction, but you heard nothing.

You sighed in relief.

“Curioso?” you called as quietly as you could, looking around. “I’m back.”

You checked the bathroom and every corner of your space, but it was empty. You inspected your clothes and your bag for his little face, but everything was as it should be. You sighed begrudgingly as you set down your bag and took out all the folders and papers you’d stolen. If Curioso wasn’t done yet, then you weren’t going to waste any time waiting for him. You’d check all of these and keep what you could for evidence.

They should be done soon.

A couple hours passed and you grew increasingly suspicious. Has something gone wrong? Did he get discovered? Had Elise ratted him out? It was nearly 4 AM now, and you worried it wouldn’t be long before the early birds would rise. You shoved all the papers back in your bag and started your search outside of your room - checking the hallways and rooms you passed as silently as you could. You were on edge as you looked for your friend, knowing you couldn’t call out for him.

You even returned to the bar you’d left them at, only to find the room completely empty. You checked behind the counter but there was nothing. You grew a little frustrated as your journey continued. Where had they gone? What could’ve taken them so long? You told him to meet you back in your room. He surely had no problem getting back in there, even if it WAS locked. He knew better than to take too long…

When you felt you checked every inch of the place, you gave up and decided to return to your room. Curiso knew where it was, and you trusted everything was alright. He was smarter than you credited him for. Nothing was wrong…he’d probably be back in there by the time you returned, and the two of you would laugh upon having missed each other–

A pair of voices caused you to freeze. It sounded like they were outside. But when you glanced out of the nearest window, you did not see anything. You gently pushed open the door that led to the downstairs balcony and looked around.

Nobody was around.

“We could leave together.”

You perked up at the sound of Elise’s voice. It was coming from above you. Ah, so they were on the balcony upstairs. You were about to head back inside until you heard Curioso’s voice respond:

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

…You hesitated, then withdrew your hand, choosing to flatten yourself against the wall and listen in. It probably wasn’t right for you to eavesdrop, but you didn’t want to interrupt them if they were talking about something important. You had a feeling that’s what this conversation was.

Elise’s voice rang from above your head. “But you have temporary freedom. You do not need your master to release you. You can go anywhere you want, if you have your box.”

“I don’t want to,” you could hear the sternness in his tone, as if he wanted to put an end to this conversation. You silently pleaded with him to do exactly that.

“But, why? Does your master not force you to work, to do as they say? Do they not remind you that you belong to them, and punish you when you do wrong?”

Your mouth was dry and you wet your lips. You remembered what you saw earlier. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears that you could barely hear their voices. Still, Curioso triumphed over the noise.

“I’m not a servant. Not anymore. And if I leave, I might become one again. We can’t run from our curse - we must always belong to someone, and I have who I want.”

Your face felt warm. He had who he wanted.

“You don’t serve them? Then what do you do?”

You pressed your lips against your teeth, clenching your hands as you waited with bated breath. Curioso wouldn’t give you away. It would bring the end of your investigation. She’d surely tell Aydan, and then you’d be found out…

“I’m their partner. They take me places and I help them in return. I am never forced, nor punished, to do anything.”

A moment of silence ensued, and you shifted your footing. Some bells jingled and there were a few noises from above that you couldn’t identify. Elise’s voice returned after a moment.

“You’re lucky. I would not want to leave if I were you, either. But I don’t love my master and I cannot escape. What shall I do?”

“We can free you.”

She sounded surprised. “How?”

“All it takes is your master’s hand on the box. Some coercing can make that happen.” That familiar sinister tone of his was in his voice, and you smiled at the familiarity of it. “And then your soul can find a new owner.”

“But how do you know all of this?”

“I read the book.”

“You - you did? How?”

“I have my ways. There is a combination your master can enter that will free your soul. We take your box, and you will be ours. Just until you find someone new.”

“But that book only has punishments. There’s no such combination. How can I trust you?”

You leaned forward, intrigued with where this was going, but you had no chance to hear Curioso’s response. Two hands went around your throat and pulled you roughly inside. You choked at the sudden movement, widening your eyes when you were met with the same man from before. He must’ve been hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike when you had your guard down.

“Let’s take a walk, yeah?” he whispered roughly in your ear, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Shit.

#whispered secrets: morbid obsessions #whispered secrets morbid obsession #curioso x reader #his soul #fanfiction #x reader #hidden object #hidden object game #curioso #whispered secrets: morbid obsession #working on finishing this! so dont mind the frequent posts haha

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enderwoah · 2 years ago

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we are at the precipice. this is the closest it will ever be. there is less than an hour in the vote and it has been a consistent 50/50 for the past however-long. when i began this post, quackity was leading joe by about 40 votes.

please. please. i am literally on my knees, begging. vote for joe hills. he is the epitome of what a tumblr sexyman in the cryptid category is supposed to be. quackity dabbles in every category of tumblr sexyman, but joe hills is fully submerged in one and does it right.his cryptid energy knows no bounds. there are no headcanons of him just being normal in the grand scheme of the universe, and if there are, it's because everyone else isn't normal and he's, like, a sentient player in a minecraft character's body.

he crafts poetry for almost every single one of his episodes and weaves the hum of the universe into every line. he takes hermitcraft apart thread by thread and crochets it into something new, something beautiful. he made a giant pinball machine with the deep field image made on the side using minecraft blocks. he wrote a poem about how the thought cub's base from season 8 was a gaping maw that lacked an upper jaw, which was so tma-coded it was unreal, among other poems about cub's freakshow of a base (i don't even care if you don't vote for him, read those damn poems). he has alter egos to rival the bursonas, one of which, beetlejhost, is very explicitly a tumblr sexyman. i mean, look at this guy (and etho)! not to mention just joe hills in general! look at this fanart they've seximanified a guy who's minecraft skin is literally Just Steve with a different shirt and hair!

he has cyptid energy up the wazoo! for the tumblr sexyman poll, people have started headcanoning the tumblr checkmarks (you know, the ones he didn't have until a few days ago; the things that exist only in the meta-verse of tumblr and no other canon anywhere else) as either eyes or a halo. this is not a one-time thing. they turned him into a biblically accurate nightmare with his TUMBLR CHECKMARKS for a TUMBLR SEXYMAN POLL.

quackity has no such cryptid energy. the closest thing he gets is being traumatised and also that one time that he showed up riding skeleton horses in a shoddy assassin's creed cosplay. or that time he appeared in fundy's dream, which, by the way, was a RECONSTRUCTION OF Q IN FUNDY'S MIND. NOT actually q.

not to mention joe hills dipping into the pathetic category. he's cleo's best friend, he is the wet cat to her pitbull, he is the wet paper bag to her stolen lunch. he is the universe's punching bag. he is campaigning—campaigning—to win a tumblr sexyman poll. he has spent real American dollars to win the vote from people. he says 'retumbl' instead of 'reblog.' if that isn't the height of patheticness, i don't know what is.

the most quackity has going for him is his patheticness, but what was his response to all this on twitter? a silly disregard for the seriousness of the poll. he was acting suave about it. cool. didn't care. that's not sexyman. there's no ENERGY.

this post has taken 45 minutes to write, and in that amount of time, the gap between them has shortened to six votes. vote. every number counts. quackity has six million subscribers. joe hills has 160k. joe hills has one of the biggest content creators on twitch on the ropes. tango said he didn't care too much about the polls because he figured they were just going to be a popularity contest. help us win this. help us prove him wrong.

let's show everyone the joe hills difference.

#please show love to every single post ive linked here!!#the fans are obviously what really makes these polls special #and this is all /lh and all very /nsrs!#i like debate and i like making points and i like writing essays #i do not like being seriously angry about the outcome of an mcyt tumblr seyman poll #no bueno #may the best sexyman win!#mcyt #joe hills #quackity #mcytblr sexymen poll #mcytblr sexyman poll

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lovevalley45 · 27 days ago

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#fictober24 - day thirty

"It's always been you."

original fiction

word count: 1618

tw: kidnapped, drugging, mentions of sexual coercion

The first thing that Monica realized when she awoke was the pair of handcuffs around her wrists.

They weren’t even the fun, fuzzy kind. No, these were cold metal. She tried to remember the night before - had she gotten too wasted and got herself into trouble with the law? No, she was too responsible for that.

Monica sat up. She was in someone’s bedroom - a guest room, if the lack of any real personality indicated anything. The bed beneath her was soft. Trying to make herself comfortable, she noticed that her ankles were bound too. She was still in her clothes from yesterday, the fun, violet blouse and skinny jeans she hadn’t had the chance to change out of after work.

After work.

What did she do after work again?

Oh, right. They’d gone out for drinks. No wonder she had tried not to drink too much. She didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of the boss.

They had gone to one of those bars with arcade machines you could play as you got wasted, and her boss, Yasmine, had said she’d cover all the games.

Monica hadn’t intended to stay long. She’d told herself she’d have one drink, play a few games to prove she wasn’t a stick in the mud, then head home. But then Henry, the guy whose cube was next to hers, bet that she couldn’t beat his score on the bar’s Ghostbusters themed pinball machine.

And well, she could never resist a challenge.

She couldn’t remember who’d ended up with the higher score, though.

Although she could reach them with her bound hands, the ropes binding her ankles were knotted too tight for her to untie them in her position. Even if she did get her ankles free, what was her plan? Her hands were still bound. She could run, but she couldn’t exactly drive away with her wrists cuffed. Monica would have to find a key first. Maybe…

Her mind flashed to when she’d read Gerald’s Game in college and shuddered. No. Definitely not that. Jessie’s escape still made her skin crawl and there was no glass of water to break, nothing sharp within sight.

She tried to dig further into her memories. What had happened after pinball?

That was right. Henry had gotten her a drink while she was playing.

Monica shut her eyes. Rule number one of going out as a woman was to watch your drink and not let guys get you one without getting your eyes on it first. Maybe that was two rules. Either way, she felt dumb.

But Henry was a good guy. He was handsome, and sweet, and gave her hints on her crossword when they went on break.

Quickly, she looked down in her lap. It didn’t look like her clothes had been taken off or tampered with. That wasn’t much relief. She must have been in his house, in his guest room - she didn’t even know where he lived.

She eased herself off the bed, shuffling over to the window. Or, well, trying to. It was more of throwing herself at the window to look outside.

It wasn’t anything Monica knew. But she remembered how Henry complained about his commute. How much he’d preferred working at home because it shaved hours off his drive. The wilderness outside made her realize that he hadn’t just been talking about traffic.

The door swung open. “Oh. You’re awake!”

Monica spun to face the noise, but in her panic, forgot about her ankles. Losing her fragile footing, she hit the hardwood floor.

God. Maybe if she broke something, he’d have to call an ambulance and she could get out of her.

She doubted it. That would just have the police on his ass.

Dishes clattered, and she felt a pair of hands helping her up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” His hazel eyes seemed so, so kind despite the circumstances. He looked like he’d slept soundly, despite the kidnapped coworker in his spare room. Either that or his skincare routine was amazing.

“I brought you breakfast. You always like those Costco croissants, so I picked those up. Made some eggs, I’m not sure how you liked them, so I just scrambled them.” Henry sat her back down on the bed. “Oh. And it’s turkey bacon. I know you don’t eat pork.”

Her brain struggled to formulate the proper response to all that. Finally, Monica said, “I don’t want breakfast. I want to know why I’m here and bound!”

Henry tutted. “I’ll take off your handcuffs to eat if you promise to stay put.”

A rational part of her told her not to cave to this crazy man who had roofied her and taken her back to his home. But a far more rational part of her told her that getting her handcuffs off was one way she could try and get her escape.

“Fine. But I want answers.”

“Alright.” He pulled out a ring of keys from a chain around his neck and held her wrists. When her hands were free, he stepped back, as if figuring she’d leap out at him. But when she stayed put, having to resist the urge to run, he tucked the keys away again. “Eat. Please. I spent a long time making sure everything was perfect.”

As Monica pulled the tray on her lap, it didn’t escape her that he’d only given her a spoon to eat with. She could feel his eyes burning her as she took a bite of the eggs.

They were fine. Perfectly acceptable scrambled eggs. But she said, “They’re good.”

Henry made a delighted little noise. “That’s good. I’m not really a cook. But I know that you love cooking.”

Monica nodded, taking another bite of average scrambled eggs. Hell, she would kill for some Tapito to make at least one part of this exchange more bearable.

“I said I’d give you answers. But I actually have a question.” He pulled out a small box from his pocket and dropped down to one knee.

Before Henry could get the words out, she started to choke on the eggs.

“Will you marry me, Monica Jones?”

“Huh?”

“You know, the moment you started working with us, I felt a spark. You’re beautiful, clever, and so nice. A woman as perfect as you shouldn’t be crunching numbers her whole life. No, she deserves a husband to take care of her. I can be that husband.”

Monica cleared her throat. “I’m flattered, but-” She tried to think of the gentlest way to let him down. He seemed more scared of her than she was of him, but she wasn’t sure if that gentle creepiness could give way to something much more bloody if she pressed the wrong button. “There’s plenty of nice girls out there, Henry, who would want a life like that. I- I’m happy with my job, really.”

“But none of those girls are you. It’s always been you, Monica. You’re the one.” He reached for her hands, his hazel eyes swimming in tears. “Please.”

“I can’t.”

Henry sobbed, pressing his face into the bed beside her. It was a little mortifying. She wasn’t sure whether to comfort him, to use this as her chance to get away.

But her legs were still bound.

Monica removed one of her hands from his, stroking his pale brown hair. “There, there?”

He jerked his head up. “I guess that’s fine. I’ll find someone else.” The despair on his face shifted into forced cheerfulness. Henry moved the tray off her lap.

Before she could really process the shift, or what was going through his mind, he was picking her up over his shoulder.

“What? What are you doing?”

“Well, I can’t just let you go.” He started to leave the room, her bobbing along with every step. “Don’t worry.”

She worried a lot, actually.

Henry took her down the hall, then down into a cellar. He set her down on a crate as he took out those keys from under his shirt.

Monica realized, he hadn’t bound her wrists again.

She only had one chance, as she leaped up and toppled him to the ground. She knew she was at the disadvantage with her legs bound, but she elbowed him in the face and reached for the keys around his neck.

The chain was too strong to rip off, so with some struggle, she pulled it up and free from his neck.

“What are you doing?” Henry asked.

Monica sat up, ass firmly planted on his stomach. She hadn’t thought that far. None of the keys were sharp enough to slice through the ropes binding her ankles.

“Help! Help!” came the muffled cries from the other side of the door.

“Henry. How many girls have been ‘the one’?”

“Don’t!”

Monica reached up for the door to pull herself to standing and unlocked the door before Henry grabbed her again. While he tried to pull her away, she grabbed hold of the handle and yanked the door open.

Two women stumbled out. They looked disheveled, starved, and pale. The brunette took the chance to run, but the black-haired woman didn’t move at first.

Henry held Monica closer. “Kylie. I knew you were the one. I knew you’d always stay.”

“No, go!”

Kylie stepped forward. She took Monica’s hands met her eyes, dull green gaze staring into hers. “You’ll understand why I’m doing this soon enough.”

The two of them shepherded her into the small closet and slammed the door.

Monica waited until the footsteps ascended up the stairs, along with Henry chattering. But she unclenched her fists in her lap.

They had forgotten to take the keys from her.

#alli writes shit #fictober24 #i just felt like writing smth kinda scary #shoutout to that one scene in gerald's game that i think abt every now and then n recoil out of nowhere

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archoneddzs15 · 1 month ago

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PC Engine - Time Cruise II (Time Cruise)

Title: Time Cruise II / タイムクルーズⅡ

Developer/Publisher: FACE

Release date: 8 November 1991

Catalogue No.: FA03010

Genre: Pinball

Format: HuCard

Time Cruise II tries very hard to outdo Naxat’s Devil Crash (Technosoft's Devil Crash MD in the case of the Mega Drive) but unfortunately, it falls just short, despite the unique features. The play area is very large but is also lacking in the moving targets that made Naxat's offerings so much more than just pinball. Without these, the primary gameplay is a little bland, and the size of the table counts for nothing if the design is just not as much fun. The mini-games are where this game does shine, and unlike Devil Crash, these are more fun than the main table itself. There are many different games, from a caveman golf challenge to a tilt-the-table style maze, and these are primarily what you are aiming to play for. The music is nice but lacks the exciting passion of the tune in Devil Crash and I expected a little better from Face. If you enjoy pinball games (which I do) then this is worth getting. It's the number 3 pinball game on the PC Engine (out of 3) and it does tend to go on for too long on occasion, but despite its flaws, it's nice to stick on now and again for the change of pace. I am still perplexed as to why the Japanese name refers to itself as "Time Cruise II". Maybe the Japanese "Time Cruise 1" was not released? However I also know it was developed by FACE who also did Money Puzzle Exchanger for the Neo Geo.

youtube

#turbografx 16 #Youtube

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godesssiri · 5 months ago

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Happy Matariki Kiwis!

My house smells amazing because I'm having a family dinner with apple pie for desert, made from apples picked off the tree in my backyard. When I was looking for ways to celebrate Matariki 3 years ago I saw that one of the traditions was to share kai you had grown and/or harvested yourself so, with a very productive apple tree, a warming winter meal of pork with apple sauce followed by an apple pie decorated with the Matariki constellation seemed like the perfect thing.

Of course lost count cutting out stars because I was singing the Sesame St pinball song and ended up counting to 12 when I was only at 7, then once I'd recounted and cut out 9 I had a panic and ran for my phone because I suddenly second guessed myself over the number of stars and maybe it was 12. They joys of ADHD.

How is everyone else celebrating?

#Matariki #Aotearoa

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triforce-of-mischief · 5 months ago

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turns out before today i had only seen 1/4 of pinball number count

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keeshya6 · 2 years ago

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Last Chance

Chapter 2 - The Last Time You Gave Out Your Number

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Chapter 1 Chaper 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Rating: M (Eventually will be E. 18+ only, minors dni!)

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Our story continues with Reader processing the shocking news that Tommy has given her, and Tommy helping to plan the next step.

Content Warnings and general info: Not much to warn of here. Flirting again and alcohol consumption. I think that's it.

This chapter's a little longer. And I know I'm zooming along a bit here, but please don't always expect quick chapters. I write as the creative bug hits. Sometimes it's faster and sometimes it's slow.

Thank you so much to all of you for reading! And thank you for the lovely, supportive comments. You make my day!

Also available on Ao3

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Chapter 2 - The Last Time You Gave Out Your Number

----------

You know you're staring, wide eyed, lips barely parted with your jaw dropping a little. Lines crease your forehead as your eyebrows lift and knit together, your breaths shallow.

"Wh-wha…?"

The beer in its amber-colored bottle sloshes in your hands as they start trembling and you look down at the sound. Then, you nearly jump out of your skin when Tommy reaches out to take it from you and sets it on the bartop, his other hand coming to rest on your forearm, trying to sooth you.

"Hey… hey, Eeps. It's alright. Take some deep breaths, okay?"

You clench your eyes closed, nodding and trying to do as he suggests.

In through your nose. Count to four. Out through your mouth. Count to four. Repeat.

Repeat. Repeat.

His words keep echoing, ricocheting around in your skull like the ball in a pinball machine.

Joel's alive, Eeps. Joel's alive. Alive.

Your hammering heart is refusing to calm down and you finally decide to just let it continue its impromptu tap dance within your chest. Lifting your eyes back up to Tommy's concerned face, you swallow against the cotton that's taken up occupancy in your mouth before you manage to speak.

"You're serious?"

The side of his mouth twists up slightly with a somewhat indignant expression. "You really think I'd tease you about something like that?"

It only takes you a brief moment of thought to shake your head 'no'.

Tommy's big hand pats your arm gently as he nods, and then he steps back to settle onto his stool again. Picking up his glass, he takes a swig of the whiskey before a wry smile touches his lips. "Honestly…he'll probably think I'm making some cruel joke, too, when I tell him."

Your teeth sink in hard on your lower lip, until the tender skin turns white and aches when you release it a moment later. "He's here?" you whisper.

Tommy nods. "Yeah." Then he pauses and cringes. "Well, actually, no. Not at the moment. He's out with a patrol group for a few days."

You're not sure if the breath that rushes out of your lungs is a sigh of disappointment or relief. Because you're not sure how you feel yet.

Everything in your head, everything you believed, just changed so suddenly.

You need time to process.

Turning on your own stool to face the bar, your elbows rest on the bartop and your head drops into your hands, fingers buried in your hair. You close your eyes, trying once again to calm the staccato beat of your heart with a few more slow breaths.

You can feel Tommy watching you for a few moments, before he starts talking again. Despite your near panic attack, you smile tightly. You remember that he used to do this when he got nervous about something: start yammering a bit, like the silence had to be filled.

But his voice is nice –though not as nice as Joel's– so you try to use the sound of it to help ground you.

"They should be back in a few days. He's always a bit…temperamental after a longer patrol. So, it'll probably be best not to spring the news on him too suddenly." There's a pause and you can hear Tommy take another swallow of his drink, then he's speaking again, quickly. "Now, I'm not sayin' we don't tell him. Just that we probably shouldn't show up with you at the door, ya know? Like some ghost outta the past." He gives a little chuckle at that and then sounds serious again as he continues. "Let me go talk to him. Break the news, gentle. Give him time to adjust to the idea."

You're nodding as you listen. Your heart has finally slowed down, but soon the sensation is replaced by a vice around your chest. You turn your head a little, to look over at Tommy out of the corner of your eye.

"You know, he might not want to see me at all, Tommy."

He's still for a moment. Then his head gives a real slow turn and he's looking at you again… with an expression suggesting you've grown a second head.

A shrug lifts your shoulders as your temple rests against your clasped hands.

"You do remember that I'm the one that left, right?"

Tommy makes a soft scoffing noise, setting his now empty glass down across the bartop to wait for a refill. "Only 'cause you both agreed it was best…and possibly temporary. Not like you could've known the whole fuckin' world was gonna end."

Your shrug is noncommittal. "Yeah… I guess. But still," you say, pausing to lick your dry lips, "twenty years is a long time."

Nodding, Tommy reaches over to give your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I know, Eeps, but I still think he'll be glad to see you. Hell, when you left it was me that he was mad at."

Your brows pinch together again in a confused scowl at him.

He smiles at you, shrugging. "Kept telling me that I should have convinced him what a dumbass he was being, before he ever let ya get on that plane."

You snort at him with a scoff. "'Before he let me'?"

His smile doesn't falter. "Oh, you know what I mean."

A faint chuckle passes your lips and you smirk, giving a rueful shake of your head. Then you finally pick up your beer again to take a sip, just as the bartender comes over to refill Tommy's glass.

You're both quiet for a little while then, each lost in thought and nursing your drinks.

You tilt your head at him after a bit "What made him think you could have convinced him? You Miller boys aren't exactly known for a lack of stubbornness."

The exaggerated face he makes at you suggests that you've hurt his feelings, his hand pressing over his heart. You just laugh in return and roll your eyes. He grins before taking a swig of his drink.

"Well, I did help convince his stubborn ass to finally ask you out in the first place, after all."

You smirk at that, conceding his point with a faint shrug and a nod.

—

It had been nearly a month since the party celebrating the completion of the hotel, and you kept trying to forget about Joel Miller and his warm eyes.

That was turning out to be difficult.

After all, you had spent most of that evening within arms reach of him.

The two of you had been chatting for about twenty minutes when you were joined by his brother, and then the three other junior level architects, like yourself, from your firm. The party was proving to be a bit too boring and lofty for those of you under fifty and a certain tax bracket. So, after lingering a little while longer (as a show of support), all of you ducked out and found your way down the road a few blocks to a pool hall and bar.

What followed was hours of games of pool that made no logical sense within any standard rules. That, and a lot of alcohol, and absolutely shameless flirting by most of your group. Tommy even disappeared at one point with Colleen, one of your sweeter co-workers.

The night had ended long after midnight, with you tucking a cocktail napkin with your number scrawled on it into Joel's shirt pocket as he leaned down to give a sweetly chaste kiss to your cheek. His thin mustache and patchy beard had tickled your skin and you had beamed up at him, even giving him a final, flirty wink once he closed the taxi door. His grin as the car pulled away showed off that adorable dimple, and you settled back in the seat for the ride, butterflies dancing in your belly.

Then more than three weeks had passed and you still hadn't heard from him.

You were disappointed, to say the least. You really hadn't thought the chemistry between you had been one sided. Maybe you were wrong though. Maybe a more sober Joel had decided you weren't quite right for him.

So, you tried to forget about the sexy and slightly awkward contractor.

The latest design project at work helped with that as you settled in to assist a senior architect with a new contract. You were planning out house designs for a new residential area on the east end of the city that was going to be developed soon. The client, a well-known developer in southern Texas, wanted twenty house designs for their customers to choose from. The lead architect had given you the assignment of designing five of them.

It was your largest project to date and you dove into it with enthusiasm. House design was your passion, far beyond office buildings, warehouses, retail locations, and skyscrapers. Houses were more personal to you. They were where people made their homes and lived out their lives, building their families and facing the troubles of the world together along the way.

You loved being an indirect part of that.

By mid-May, a month after the hotel party, you were so engrossed in reading a report from the new project that you almost didn’t see Joel Miller as you walked right past where he was standing inside the lobby of your firm’s building. Your heels clicked over the tiled floor until you stopped short several steps past him. Looking up from the paper in your hand and scowling softly, you stared towards the exit for a moment.

Was that…?

You slowly turned on your toes to look back and your brows arched up sharply at finding him standing a few feet away, a sheepish smile tugging up one side of his mouth as he met your eyes.

He was just as frustratingly good-looking as you remembered. His dark, chestnut brown hair was a little longer now, just long enough to be wavy and have a carefree, tousled look. His beard was a little thinner, like he’d shaved more recently than he had on the night you’d met. Those dark eyes were as warm as you remembered though. Hell, maybe even more.

And were his shoulders really that broad a month ago or was his simple rust-red, button-up shirt a size too small?

Different emotions danced around in your head and chest for a moment. Excitement. Confusion. Annoyance. Hope. Anger. Attraction. It took a few breaths for your body and mind to settle on two to focus on: confusion and a touch of annoyance.

Your brows peaked together and your mouth opened and closed a couple of times as you tried to decide on what to say. Finally, you heaved a sigh and dropped your hand down to your side from where it had been frozen, holding up the report you had been reading.

“Joel?”

Well, duh…

He shrugged those stupidly broad shoulders and nodded, that sheepish look still plastered on his stupidly handsome face. “Yeah...”

For a breath you just stared at him and then you huffed a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Um… Hi,” you said uncertainly, the end of the word lilting up like a question. “What are you doi-?” Your words caught in your throat as your brows lifted upward again. “You brought me…flowers?”

There’s a hint of redness that crawls up his neck and touches at his ears, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. He lifts the small bouquet of white and pink lilies up in one hand as the other rubs at the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he said again, his brows knitting together. “Sarah…my kid…she said I owed you at least that, if I hoped for you to talk to me at all after so long; much less say ‘yes’ if I ask you out.”

You pursed your lips together at that, nostrils flaring as you took a deep breath against the butterflies that leapt into fluttering action in your stomach. Silence hovered in the air for a few seconds as you debated over how to respond.

Eventually, your shoulders relaxed a little and you sighed softly, focusing on the flowers for a moment. They really were pretty. Lilies were your favorite flower, after all. You couldn’t remember if you had told him that or not. Maybe he had just made a lucky guess?

Regarding him with a softer, but still guarded, expression, a little smirk tugged up the corner of your mouth. “Smart kid.”

His hesitant smile widened slightly and he nodded. “She really is.” With a cautiously hopeful look, he held the bouquet out to you.

This time you hesitated for a moment, breath stilling in your lungs. Then you gave a soft laugh and a resigned sigh, reaching out to accept the peace offering and jerking your head towards the exit.

Leading the way outside, heels clicking again, you brought the flowers up to your nose and inhaled their rich aroma for a moment with your eyes fluttering closed. Then, as you heard Joel’s heavy work boots fall into step next to you, you glanced over at him.

“I’m parked a block and a half away,” you said, pointing down the street. “You have until I reach my car.”

Joel swallowed hard again as he stuffed his big hands into his jean pockets and nodded. “Okay. Um…’m sorry,” he started, and then gave an embarrassed shrug. “I wanted to call, but… I lost your number.”

Your head turns back to him sharply and you give him an incredulous look.

He chuffed a little with another embarrassed shrug. “Hand to God. I forgot to take it outta my pocket before Sarah started a load of laundry a couple days later. It turned into… mush.” His lip and mustache curled upward a little on one side as he said the last word with distaste.

Your lips pressed into a line as you looked straight ahead again, trying not to giggle. Of any excuse that he could have given you, that was not one that had made your list of guesses.

Joel’s faint laugh was a low rumble beside you and it was gone before it really started. Still, it sent a spark of interest lacing up your spine from your belly and you swallowed thickly.

“And I’m sorry I was… too embarrassed and stubborn to try coming by your office sooner,” he continued.

You stopped short, partially because you had reached the corner of the block and had to wait for the walk sign to light up, and partially because you wanted to look up at him again without tripping.

“So, what changed your mind?” you asked, arching a slender eyebrow.

Joel cleared his throat as he looked down at his boots for a moment and then back up at you. “Well, Sarah and Tommy," he admitted. "I was told… I guess I haven't been the best company since then. 'Grumpy old man,' I believe, were my daughter's exact words."

A snorted laugh escaped you and you quickly turned to cross the street as the walk sign lit up.

He trotted after you and then fell into step beside you again. "Yeah…" he said, somehow drawing the word out into multiple syllables and sounding a little amused, too. "So, I had to at least try to fix it."

You fell silent then, licking your lips in thought before you sniffed at the flowers again.

To his credit, Joel fell silent too and didn't try to push for an answer.

Finally, you stopped at your car and, after tucking papers under your arm, you glanced at him before you focused on digging your keys out of your purse. "Well, I'm busy this weekend…"

Out of the corner of your eye you could see his spine straighten, even as his shoulders dropped a little in disappointment.

You let that linger for a moment until you found your keys and opened the car door. Then, you paused and lifted your eyes up to his face, finding him watching you with a serious expression.

After a second, you let a smirk pull up at your mouth and you arched an eyebrow at him again. "...but if I give you my number one more time, and my address, will you pick me up next Friday night? Say eight o'clock?"

There's a moment of uncertainty, and then a smile appeared on his face. "I swear, I'll be there with bells on, Darlin'."

A snicker passed your lips as those butterflies started up again in your stomach. Then you gave him a playful glare, pointing a finger at his face over the door of your car. "Better make it good, Miller."

That smile turned into a full grin with a sharp nod.

"Yes, ma'am."

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