#pls reblog! needs to reach a bunch of people | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sometimesanalice · 11 months ago

Text

JORDAN!

I love your reblogs I hoard them the way a squirrel hoards their little nut stash, lol.

It absolutely would not have been a Thanksgiving fic without invoking your patron saint! I'm so happy that their get together got your thumbs up too!

And I hope you'll forgive me for withholding [redacted] from you this time! You get all my fic planning (and editing) nonsense, but I like to make sure you surprise every now and then! A little treat that I haven't talked you ear off about! (BUT IT IS SO HARD BECAUSE I AM ALWAYS DYINGGGG TO TELL YOUUUUUU!)

more for you!

And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer. - i can absolutely picture her sitting up straight in bed at 3am GASPING about the cranberry sauce - AS SHE SHOULD, MIND YOU!-- CRANBERRY SAUCE MATTERS! and people have OPINIONS! SG isn't about to dial in her first big Thanksgiving hosting duties! And bless Bradley, but he really should have known better, lol. It's 3 AM sir, IT MATTERS EXTRA BEFORE THE SUN IS UP!

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family - her mom is so sweet! i just know she was so excited when she found out they were a couple! i love how often she’s mentioned in the fics too?-- Oh I think it made her so happy. Bradley is her Sweet Boy and them together? Like the moms never did the "oooh look at them thing" because that's so weird and puts so much pressure on kids. But I think she's always loved how he's looked out of her daughter. I just love the history that is there and how entwined their families were at the start.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace - okay i’m obsessed martha stewart?!!? and then the pinecone place cards to say nothing about the new green lower cabinets???? i love their house so so much it seems so cozy and lived in (even though they’re not real…) and don’t even get me started on how camp the oversized confetti is (do i reread the first time fic? mayhaps)-- Pinterest came THROUGH for me. But the camp confetti is the crowning glory, I GIGGLED when I thought of it, haha!

“Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.” - 🫠🫠 pls just take me against the dishwasher i’m BEGGING and the pretty GREEN dress that gets bunched up around my hips?! PLUS IT’S VELVET?? say less pls-- we know how much they like their kitchen! She's always worried about the neighbors getting an eyeful, expecially when they have a cute al fresco brunch on their deck and she's only wearing his shirt 💁🏼‍♀️ but also bradley's favorite color and that soft fabric??! man is definitely not trying to keep his hands to himself, sorry y'all dinner is going to be delayed

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead. - i love her so much. like all the mannerisms and whatnot they’re so in character and in tune and realistic to what we’ve seen from her?-- she's like "how dare you call me out like that it was a joke??" when they both know it was not a joke in the leasttttt, lol. Sweet Girl, anxious girl! But also that is the best compliment to get! It had been awhile since I've focused on them and I really wanted this slightly older version of her to still seem like her. (which means I just need to write more of Them™️)

He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right. - i’m actually obsessed with this line which seems so random BUT IT’S SO REALISTIC?!? my mom and i spent 15 minutes doing this earlier today!- He learned his lesson quickly after the cranberry incident! If he doesn't have an opinion, he knows she's going to. But I really wanted there to be a moment showing how in sync they are together as a team? Like the type of conversations without words and how they understand each other?

And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out. You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything. - i think this is one of the reasons why i love them as a couple so much? there’s just SO much history? and bradley being like “i was FORCED to hang out with her” lol sure sure i get it, suuuuure (i need more of younger them)-- I LOVE THEIR HISTORYYYYY! I was so soft over this line. He was always appeasing his mom until he realized he liked hanging out with her. He's always loved her but now he gets to be in love with her 🥰

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other. His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm. - NO BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK?!!?! how could you do this to me - question mark? it’s so pretty and lovely!!! and then her emphatic “no. no i wouldn’t” (it reminded me of That Line)-- OK BUT CAN YOU BELIEVE I FORGOT ABOUT THAT LINE UNTIL YOU REMINDED ME OF IT HERE???!!! Like we KNOW how soft, how delicate I am about Delployment!Bradley. But that THEY both know what it means for him to have a home and a bed and a wife and a dog and a family of his own???? anywaysssss im weeping its fine

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head. - i’m fucking GAGGED!??!!! MY QUEEN! MY PATRON SAINT!?! (also bradley kind of IS jeffrey like career wise so…)-- i did it for youuuuuuuuu! 💖

It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well. - i told you this earlier but this is so fucking hot like godddddddd daddy?!?! his big arms!?!-- LITERALLY 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 like no wonder miss ma'am like needed a moment with him even as the countdown was on, sheeeeshhhhhh

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck. - MOTHER FUCKING DUCK THE DOG MY SWEET BOY!! also it’s duck, like quack is HILARIOUS and i can just see the look on his face saying it-- i'm going to write this one, i'm going to write this oneeeee!

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations. - golden balls!!!! also i hope he has to get it in person and sees casey and is like HA I WIN-- he's playing the LONG game! he saw the potential! the opportunity! and he's running with it! I also think he genuinely loves the idea of being able to surprise her? Like they know so much about each other so when they get to surprise the other, it's like the best thing to them!

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.” - MY SWEET GIRL (CAPITALIZED!!!!) i love this so much! the faulty stemware! then the butter! this is so sweet and i love that it’s what gets us the big reveal!-- the MY sweet girl absolutely SENT ME. that's his pregnant best friend and wife and soulmate! I knew it had to be something silly, like chilled butter, something that any rational person would be like "thata's not a big deal" but would be devastating to someone cooking up a baby Bradshaw (or two 🤗)

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you. - how do you write this beautifully? it’s really not far to me of my (pregnancy less) hormones? this is so lovely-- 😭💖 i just love them so muchhhhh, i want thissssss

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry. - i too PANICKED when i first read this line-- bradley is trying to keep it together! he just calmed down his wife and now he has to worry about his dad going off script?!! THE OVEN SPACE MAV!

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” - alexa…i’m really not over this name? it is so so soooooooo perfect? like i think it’s the best baby boy name i’ve ever seen in a bradley x reader fic? and i’m being so serious. like im speechless COOPER? MITCHELL? FORD? goodnight y’all!-- I AGONIZEDDDDDDDD about the name!! Like HOURS of combing baby names and trying to get the combo just right! And COOPER MITCHELL FORD BRADSHAW HAS MY HEART! With his chubby cheeks and precious curls 😭 Like the Bradshaw line is continuing but I wanted there to be some MavDad love and then something of JUST Bradley too.

The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who raised him hold his son for the first time. “Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.” - i actually started crying when bradley says “yeah dad�� because like??? we have him think it a lot and it’s clearly something that means a lot to him, but to have him verbalize it is just so wonderful and lovely?-- THAT'S HIS DAD! THAT'S HIS FAMILY! Like it's one thing for him to think it, but I also needed him to say it and for it to be like a normal thing?? That they've been able to reach that point and heal that hurt? oh now i am crying

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family. - 🤭🤭🤭 this is so so lovely i don’t have anything else to say-- His Kid and his kids.

Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him. - stop 🥺🥺 i’m crying again-- THAT'S HIS KID HE'S HIS DAD! Part of him, part of her. His place in the world is with themmmmmm

Now I need to reread this fic because them and their family mean so much to meeeee! thank you for loving them with me!

In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you were fluttering around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and warm vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends where going to go, but there were worst problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right. The scalloped white one with gold rim it'll be.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head.

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. On newsletter day Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations. Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please? This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby.”

Bradley feels the moment your body relaxes into him.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach, not wanted to disturb the magic in the domesticity.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as he two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his hands can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see his dad round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by earl this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kiddo?” Mav asks, a soft grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their girlfriends show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Caroline Bradshaw and Olivia Saylor Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#i didn't mean to write your a novel but I diddddd #thank you for loving these two as much as I do!#the babe with the cranberry sauce

858 notes · View notes

secretsandwriting · 2 years ago

Text

Murder Made Us Do It

Part Twelve: A History On Cults

When a killer targeting couples manages to avoid both the Justice League and the Devil Fugitives, the two “enemies” decide to work together to bring him down. How do you catch a killer targeting couples? You bait him with couples. It couldn’t go wrong, right?

TW WARNINGS: Mentions of child abuse, death, human experimentation, kidnapping, electroshock therapy, phycological abuse, phycological horror, gunshot wounds, autopsies, bullet removal, shrapnel removal, animal abuse, organs outside of the body, starvation, forced iv, blood.

Probably over tagged but I figured better safe than sorry. Anyways idk how much I like this but its good enough! I hope those of you ok with reading it like it!

SUMMARIZED VERSION WITHOUT ALL THE TRIGGERS

ALSO, if you like it pls comment or reblog with your thoughts bc i would love to hear them :D

“I really hate to have to be the one to say it… But ever since we cut contact, Matchmaker hasn’t shown up, we’ve all been feeling like we’re being watched, and we keep hearing about these people with smiley face masks. Something is going on and the only people who knew all the details are Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Jacob and ourselves. The onl-” Alistair looked ready to cry.

“And the only one who wouldn’t face direct problems from it would be Jacob.” Ry finished for him.

“But he took us in, helped us learn how to function in society, got us therapy and countless other things. Why would he do something like this?” It didn’t make sense, why would he put so much effort into helping the three of you while helping the other side.

“The biggest question is who’s he helpi-” A hand clamped over your mouth and held you down, within seconds Ali and Ry were pinned as well. A familiar weight was clamped over your neck and the pain that came with it was just as bad as you remembered.

“No! Please! I promise I’ll be good!” You begged the man in the white coat. “I promise! I’ll sit still and I won’t hurt anyone I’m not supposed to! Just please don’t put the collar on! It hurts so much!” He hadn’t listened and the power restraining collar had been forced on despite your begging.

You were pulled from your memories when you were lifted up after being securely cuffed. Jacob stood up front, talking with one of the old scientists you thought had been killed. He glanced over and smirked. His eyes didn’t hold the warmth you were used to. It was like he was someone else entirely.

“Get them in the van. Make sure no one notices.”

Why couldn’t nice things last.

Tim looked down at his phone when it pinged. Alistair. A soft smile grew on his face and the rest of the family grinned to themselves. It was cute and good blackmail material.

“What’d your boyfriend say?”

“It’s just a location. Their hou-” He was cut off by the sound of Jason’s phone. Ry judging by the look on his face. He stepped away to answer before coming back and putting it on speaker. It sounded like Trash. The chatter was clearly a racoon and he sounded upset.

“The SOS.” Dick looked sick.

“What.” Bruce stood up.

“Y/n told me that they have a three part SOS and that the order they would come in would be Alistair, Ry, and then her. But her part was just a bunch of numbers and a book-” He typed through his phone before showing them a screenshot with a series of numbers.

“That's a safe code.”

“We need to go now!”

The entire group moved fast, getting into costume before getting into vehicles and speeding away. Within record time they were entering the house. Everything looked normal until two disturbed animals came running in. Trash waved them in while Appa started moving further into the house.

They were led to a bookshelf that Trash scaled until he reached one book and tugged, looking back at the group. Damian stepped forward.

“A history of Cults?” He reached out and grabbed the book to pull it out but it only went so far before it stopped and they heard a click. Appa yowled from her spot on the ground, front paws up on the bookshelf and almost mimicking pushing it. Steph moved to help the cat and the bookshelf moved easily revealing a safe. The safe’s door was ripped off and it was empty.

“They go-” Appa yowled, interrupting Bruce and turning their eyes down to where Trash was acting something out.

“Behind it!” Jason moved and started inspecting the safe, Tim joining him. “Here. Pull!” The safe was moved and under it was another safe. “The code!” Dick put in the code and the door opened. He pulled out three files and a notebook. On the front of the books, in all caps, READ IN A SECURE LOCATION! Back to the Batcave, this time, they called the rest of the league to join them.

“Why are we here?”

“The three from Devil’s Fugitives. Ghost, Cryptic, and Hacker have been kidnapped. We don’t know why or by who but they left us everything to get into their safe where we pulled these.” Bruce set the files and the notebook on the table. “We’re going to go over them and see if we can get any information off of them.”

“Ok, why is Dick holding a cat and a raccoon clinging to Jason?”

“They’re the girl’s pets.”

The first file was scanned in and within seconds the first page was pulled up.

Subject 404

It was Alistair’s judging by his ability listed. The reality of how bad it was, slowly started sinking in. They all saw the signs of past trauma, wasted as the three refused to explain things they had asked about, how how they all had weird habits that seemed off. But they never would have realized the full extent.

They hadn’t even gotten past the first page with the training plan. Just the training plan. But it was horrific. The detailed daily schedule consisted of electroshock therapy, whatever the hell fear training was, 6 hours of training daily, then an additional 4 hours of mental training as well as a whole slew of other things they didn’t want to figure out.

The second page was worse. It was the scientist's notes. While it was all important and all extremely twisted, a few things stood out to them.

—---

Today pain training went well, the subject barely flinched when he was shot. Tomorrow we’ll try multiple shots.

—---

The subject is starting to settle down. He’s not trying to make friends anymore and he’s going quietly when the guards go get him.

—---

The subject is showing signs of fear towards rats. Tomorrow he’ll go through fear training and will be locked in a cage with them until he’s no longer afraid.

—---

Today we introduced the subject to another to compare compatibility.

—---

The subject seems to be working well with Subject 532.

—---

The Subject and Subject 532 will be introduced to the third.

—---

Subjects 404, 532, and 673 have been introduced and started training together. Its only a matter of time before our goals are completed.

—---

The subjects seem to be getting too friendly. He was put down.

—---

During Subject 404’s autopsy, 31 bullets, 45 shrapnel, and 392 foreign items were removed. They’re currently in the process of fixing the broken bones, once that’s complete we’ll move onto the enhanced Lazurus pit injections we created.

—---

The injection was just inserted into the subject's heart. Now it’s a waiting game

—---

The subject’s heart has started beating on its own.

—---

One of the side effects seems to be a change in blood color, It's now a dark turquoise.

—---

The first training session since the revival has revealed an increase of physical abilities.

—---

The subjects are still too close. When a guard tried to separate them, he was killed without hesitation. They’re getting stronger, we’re getting closer.

The only sound in the cave was Tim’s sobs. It was horrific. No one wanted to move onto the other files but they had too. They needed a clue as to where they would be.

The Next file was labeled Subject 532. It was Ry’s. The first page was basically the same, all the normal information a doctors office would have and then another horrible schedule plan. The Rest of the file was notes, and they braced themselves for the worst.

—---

Subject 532 is doing well with the fear training. It only takes an hour for her to get over most fears.

—---

The subject is still overly friendly with others but that could work as a cover so we’re letting it slide for now.

—---

We’ve found a good punishment for the subject since meals weren’t enough leverage. Give her punishments to the animals she trains with and she’ll break.

—---

The subject was introduced to a potential teammate. Subject 404. We’re not sure how it will go yet.

—---

The two subjects seem to be working well together. We’ll adjust their training to match

—---

A Third subject will be introduced. It’s earlier than planned but we’re progressing well.

—---

The first training with the third is going well. They’ve seemed to click well. Training will be adjusted again

—---

The subject has gotten too close with the others. We were afraid of this. Subject 532 has been terminated.

—---

Subject 532’s autopsy went well. All foreign objects were removed and bones and organs were patched up. Her organs will be placed in the body and the Enhanced Lazarus Pit serum will be injected tomorrow

—---

The Subject's heart has started beating. It’s estimated she’ll be back up in less than a week

—---

There's been a change in blood color as well as a few other vitals.

—---

The first training session went well. The subject is showing signs of advanced physical abilities and increased aggression. More testing will be needed to find the limit

—---

The subjects are still too close. When separation is mentioned around them they go ballistic. Its only a matter of time before they’re too strong for any chains mankind can create

Jason looked sick, between crying and screaming. No one could blame him. The things they read in the last hour were horrible. No one should have to go through anything like that. They continued on.

Subject #673

—---

Starvation training is going good. It’s been 6 days since her last meal and she hasn’t broken yet.

—---

The subject seems to be avoiding others, that's good for now

—---

The subject refused to drink anything again today. We’ll have to use an IV

—---

The subject is doing well with most of her training. She’s being prepared for her introduction with the other two subjects.

—---

The subject wasn’t working well with the other two until a little into the session. They’ll be good together

—---

Training has been adjusted to better match the three of them. However the subjects appear to be getting too close.

—---

As feared, the subjects became too close to each other. Subject 673 was killed.

—---

The subject was autopsied and put back together with the Enhanced Lazarus Pit liquid injected into her heart at the end.

—---

Her vitals are returning to normal and she should be ready to go soon. Her blood has started to change color.

—---

The first training session has revealed an increase in physical ability. This will do wonders for our goal.

—---

The subject has started showing signs of increased hostility, right now sh-

It abruptly cut off and blood could be seen at the bottom of the paper. There was nothing to help there. Just a list and descriptions of the horrors the three went through. That left their only hope in the notebook.

The three boys had seen enough, they had spent the last 7 months getting closer to them only to have them ripped from them and then shown the horrors the three had grown up with. But they needed to find them. They needed to save them. And they needed information for that

Previous - Masterlist - Next

Taglist:

@marvelwasmadeforthebis @g0atmansbridge182

Forever Taglist:

@butterfly-skinnylegend @fuzzycloudsz @truly-dionysus @ornebiglia @ironspiderstark @harleyq127 @goingwiththewind @mirdy47707 @batlover1303 @marbles-posts @ophelia-t-starks @theshippinglion @spoonful-of-sugar8 @cecedrake2217 @writing-mlm @y0u-should-be-scared-of-me @dreams0304 @caffineandanime @miniarchangel @hadesnewpersephone @marvel--unsolved @cipheress-to-k-pop @greek-meth-ology @humaneleanor @a-daydreamers-day @babybatjason @walkingdiaryforhumanity @watch-out-idiot @cloudie-skay @vintagexparker @screennamealreadyused @malfoys-demigod @caswinchester2000 @ladythugs @unadulteratedlyunique @romanceandsarcasm @battlenix @am3l1a-24

#Mmudi #murder made us do it #DC #DC smau #smau #social media au #dick Grayson #dick Grayson x reader #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Barbara Gordon #Stephanie brown #Cassandra Cain #Alfred #Bruce Wayne #OCS I guess?#fem reader #ry writes

53 notes · View notes

milliumizoomi · 3 years ago

Note

hey! Can I request a draken x fem reader in which the reader dies during the valhalla’s fight confessing to draken on her last moments? 🙏🏼

๛ 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔

๛𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Draken x Fem! Reader

๛𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : Angst

๛𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 : One Shot

๛𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : Manga spoilers, K*sak* mention, mentions of violence & mild cursing

๛𝐀/𝐍 : I saw this in my inbox and damn near cried pls,, this gon break some hearts for sure,, thank you for the request my love <33.

REBLOGS ARE WELCOMED.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 as fast you could. You should’ve realized sooner what was going on. You should’ve told somebody. You should’ve done something. But now you’re sprinting towards the place where all of this is gonna go down. Where some people will lose their lives to one sinister and disgusting person who only cares about what he wants.

ᝰ

Kisaki.

Truthfully you didn’t understand what was happening when you walked pass an alleyway near a shop you were going to when you heard two people talking about a plan they had. You didn’t even know who they were. But you only recognized the uniforms they were wearing.

Toman’s.

You left that day, racking your brain of what exactly they were plotting until you decided to go back and sure enough they were still there and still talking about it. ‘Bunch a weirdos’ you thought to yourself. ‘Who would still sit out here hours into the night like this.. strange’ you rolled your eyes at the thought but continued to listen until you finally realize what their objective was.

This is what led you to be running towards the fight that your crush told you about but specifically told you to stay away from. You were contemplating with yourself that morning when he came to your house that morning. He came and gave you a pat on the forehead and told you that today’s the day. You wanted to tell him so bad but you were beside yourself because you had no evidence so he could easily say that you’re lying.

After he left, you sat by yourself for a while, thinking about what you should do. After you made up you’re mind, you wasted no time in running to the place where their supposed to be fighting. You ran until your legs hurt but you ignored the pain completely. You only had one objective and that was to tell somebody about how evil Kisaki is. You needed to let somebody know or else people will without a doubt die.

You finally reached to the place and as soon as you were able to catch your breath, you looked up to see the place already in chaos. ‘No.. this is exactly what he wants..!’ you thought. You ran into the place and tried to not confront anyone who you didn’t know. You stumbled through and caught sight of Takemichi. “T..Takemichi!!” You yelled just loud enough for him to hear.

When he heard his name being called, Takemichi turned around and his eyes widened at the sight you. “Y/N?! What are you doing here, it’s dangerous!!” He yelled. “There’s no time for that! You have to stop Kisaki! He’s planning on using somebody named Kazutora to kill Baji! And then he said something about wanting to do something to Emma too! He’s evil please stop him!” You said desperately. Takemichi’s eyes widened. You didn’t know that he already knew about Baji but he had no idea about Emma.

He nodded at you and started telling you that you needed to leave because it’s dangerous and you could get hurt. You shook your head. “I’m not going anywhere until—“ and you suddenly just stopped. Takemichi looked at you suspiciously.

All of a sudden you took off running. It was as if your body just moved on it’s own, which it did. You were running towards him. Towards Draken. But it wasn’t for a good reason.

Draken was preoccupied at the moment with the several amount of guys fighting him at the same time. He didn’t even notice the presence behind him. Somebody was sneaking up on him with a crowbar in their hand. And they only had one intention.

And then the sound of that same crowbar that was swung at full speed hitting something and a loud cracking sound rung through the entire place. Everybody stopped for a second and Takemichi’s eyes widened in absolute terror and just then he realized what you were running after.

Draken turned around and a look of horror spread across his face as he sees your figure falling to the ground. He looked up to see a member of Valhalla with a crowbar in his hand and it had blood on it.

Draken looked down at you and saw blood seeping onto the ground from your body. He dropped the boy’s hair he was holding and hurried to grab you. “Y/N? Y/N?! Wake up come on this isn’t funny!” He said tapping your face and shaking your arm. You coughed then opened your tired looking eyes.

You smiled up at Draken. “Are you ok? You aren’t hurt are you?” Draken frowned at your question. “Are you out of your fucking mind?! Why did you do that?! And why are you here in the first place I told you not to come here!!” He asked. He was mad, upset, angry even. Why did you of all people have to throw yourself into danger like this, especially for him. “Because I love you..” you said smiling. Draken was taken aback.

“..what?”

“I love you.. I’ve always loved you Draken and I always will..”

Draken was at a loss for words. He’s also loved you for as long as he can remember. He’d always thought that the day would come where he could tell you, but this isn’t how he wanted it to happen at all.

“I..I love you too.. so that’s why you need to stay awake for me ok..!”

“Draken listen to me.. you have to stop Kisaki.. he’s gonna ruin everything you care about..”

Draken was at a standstill. Kisaki? Kisaki did this? “Draken..” you called out to him. “Yeah..” he answered. “Protect them all ok.. I’ll always be with you” you smiled at him. Draken tried his best to hold back his tears as he nodded.

“Hey y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Be my girlfriend.. please?”

You looked up at him with wide eyes. You could feel your body getting heavier and then you smiled at him. With the little strength you had left, you reached up to touch his face.

“You’re so warm Ken.. and I’d love to be your girlfriend.. I love you..”

“Love you too..”

He leaned down to kiss you for the first time. As he did, you fell limp in his arms. Draken stiffened at your stillness.

“Y/N?” He called out but got no answer. Tears welled up in his eyes. “You can be selfish y’know.. you’re allowed to enjoy our first kiss together..” He kissed you again and then just broke down and cried as he stared at you limp, lifeless body, with a smile on your face.

“I’ll always love you too.. don’t worry”

©Property of Milliumizoomi. Please don’t rectify, repost or modify without my permission. Plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.

Taglist: @develith @keiwaizumi @unfazedrose @darylthekidd @gm4176 @blackweebtrash @erensbbg @shamwizzy @kloudyisdepressed @namjoonswifeyy @cosmiclvsh @bakuhoes-bxtch @morosis-haze @dukina @4igital @dat-black-bish323 @k3isuk3 @browniezero @kloesklarity @aizawash0e @plxnetjeezy @sukunasbabymama @royalelusts @denkisbaby1 @beezebub @revengingvixen @myhoodacademia @xseogar @manjirotears (Open ! click here to be added!)

#•💕 ━━ 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 #draken angst #ryuguji ken x reader #ryuguji ken angst #draken x reader #draken x you #tokyo revengers oneshot #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers angst #draken x fem! reader #ken ryuguji #draken oneshot

480 notes · View notes

apaldura · 3 years ago

Text

DNI: p0rn-blogs, tr@ns-@ge, m@ps, pr0sh1ppers/@nti-@ntis, dd//lg/variants, t3rfs, tr@nsmeds, @bleists, r@cists, xen0ph0bes, h0m0phobes, 3xclus and otherwise discrimatory people as well as k!nk blogs AND actively k1nk-shaming blogs-no exposure to the topic all together pls

SHOULD I ACCIDENTALLY INTERACT WITH A BLOG THAT FALLS UNDER MY DNI OR WITH A BLOG THAT HAS BLOGS LIKE MINE IN THEIR DNI PLEASE LET ME KNOW ;^;

TW tags I added on my blog so far (please reach out to me anytime if I should add more or forgot to put one under a post that might need one):

#tw trypophobia #tw entomophobia #tw lepidopterophobia #tw coulrophobia #tw ableism #tw next for autism #tw autism speaks #tw ophidiophobia #alcohol mention #ableism mention

✨ABOUT ME🐻

You can call me Apa~

I am 20yrs old and based in Germany🇩🇪

I age regress due to trauma and am neurodivergent. The extent of my regression seems to depend on how stressed I am.

I personally do not use terms such as little, but I do interact with blogs that do and might reblog (mostly) info posts that contain them, tgat I deem very useful. I would ask you though to please not use them referring to me, it makes me highly uncomfortable.

likes (smol bean): stuffies, drawing, cutesy Nintendo games, pats ON DA HEAD, cuddles, GOING ON AN ADVENTURE, crafts with foraged stuff, space, nostalgic cartoons, helping in da kitchen and blanket forts

likes (generally): drawing, skateboarding, soft horror(?), gardening/homesteading, videogames (esp. horror rpg-maker and nostalgic ones), anime, cartoons, physics, astronomy, space, science, music and fashion based subcultures in general and mythology AND CUTE STUFF AAAH

Fav shows:

✨bee and puppycat

✨adventure time

✨everything CLAMP

✨Mairimashita! Iruma-kun

✨Sailor Moon

✨my hero academia

✨Creepschool

✨Mona the Vampire

✨totally spies

✨[lauras stern]

✨Heidi, Girl of the Alps

✨Adventures of the Gummi Bears

✨Soccer wild bunch

✨the moomins

✨[Beutolomäus und der wahre Weihnachtsmann]

Fav games:

✨All gameboy Pokémon games

✨Genshin Impact

✨animal crossing in general

✨spirit farer

✨Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc (visual novel)

✨Undertale + Deltarune

✨Tales of the Black Forest (j-rpg)

✨Ib (adventure, psych. horror, rpg-maker)

I found this one when I was 11ish (it's not for children tho😅) and it is the first hyperfixation I remember having~

✨OMORI (psych. horror, rpg-maker)

It has a super long developing time and I really relate to the MCs way of coping

✨Paletta (atmospheric rpg-maker)

✨Fran Bow (creepy adventure)

✨Yuppie Psycho (Dystopia, Surrealism, Horror)

✨Scarlet Hollow (visual novel, horror-mystery)

23 notes · View notes

loneworldgazer · 4 years ago

Text

Animator!Y/N

karasuno x gen!reader, hinata x reader

a/n: people who do animation, just take my whole heart pls

this felt like a proper fic but sorry if it's short,,

(please reblog darlings)

yachi first started being curious about you since you were one of the teacher's pet, always lingering around the art teacher asking questions with a tablet in hand

she was nosy, she had to admit

she wanted to sneak a glance whenever you drew on your tablet and you would glance at her if she wants to take a look but she managed to look away before you saw

but she finally founds out what you're doing when some students partake in presentation (even if you didn't want to, the teacher liked you so you had to) and you presented yours

her little heart couldn't handle her excitement when fluid carefully drawn animation popped up on the screen and you looked at your hard work with pride

whatever subject was in the animation you discussed about it with the class and you couldn't help but of course notice the crooked smile that yachi had

she was impressed and filled with so much undescribable feelings, she could cry with how astonishing your work is

after art class yachi decided to approach you and ask a bunch of questions to you and you had the pleasure to answer all of them

you also wanted to cry because of how hyper of a puppy was when yachi would bounce up and down when you started describing about your work and how she would apologize if she was being too excited which you would shake your head to and laugh

you started exchanging numbers and you saved her under "gal who won't stop staring", of course you noticed

she couldn't hide it,,

after finding out where she was after school so you could ask her about art projects or catching up when you're absent, you started going to the club a lot more to also see the boys

they would always see you sliding into the gym and going to one of their managers and asking yachi about something

which they didn't mind much, the simpy duo thought you were stealing her away which you teased them by putting an arm around her as she laughs and says "there was nothing to worry about, y/n doesn't bite"

the whole team suprisingly loves to see your work especially hinata since he would make sound affects for your characters if you haven't added any audio yet

he would leap when your character does a transition or the scenery changes and he would gush about how cool you and your animation were

you, hinata and yachi would walk home admiring your work and yachi would also pull out her drawing as well to show both of you

hinata were both your hype man, he would compliment and point out every detail he loves

(i'm also convinced he has made doodles but they would look wonky but cute)

and since you two were close you always had sleepovers!!

usually it was at hinata's house so you could bond with natsu and she was entertained by your animations that you set up on your projecter

sometimes hinata's mom would pop up and see how it goes and she appreaciates having you over since you were such a kind and close friend of hinata that matches his energy

it was such a blast, stuffing yourselves with snacks and chortling till midnight which hinata's mom would try to shush all of you but she couldn't help but join in because it was so much fun

you would all have headaches though the next day buuut it was worth it~~

whenever you feel out of it, yachi's there

she would always be there to give you snacks or ask you take a few breaks if you worked too much

she would try to scold you and you just can't help but follow because it would be mean of you to ignore her words

and oh they were so wise

it helped you through times when she wasn't even there and it was good that you followed so you didn't hurt your mental health from the get go

now to timeskip,,

T I M E S K I P :

you were an independant animator animating part of your manga with your crew which you grouped together with your friend who was the boss of everything

you felt proud of yourself since you reached a long way,

how your parent/s didn't suppprt you from the start to how stress swallows you whenever you were near a deadline to how people complain if their request wasn't fulfilled to their liking,

yes, you still experienced it but it was a lot more better now than your highschool years telling you to shut up about your dreams

here you were animating frame by frame of your own creation,

what exactly was your manga about?

volleyball :))

yachi and karasuno's volleyball team has inspired you so much about how much team work and pain they went through and your heart stop whenever you remember

your big inspo, yachi who would never stop babbling about you and being right by your side when you need it

you might cry on the tablet you're drawing on which make your crew question on what are you crying about but you held back which also made your crew question why were you smiling so hard

nonetheless, you were almost happy everyday because you could reminisce with the ideas yachi gave you back then which you still kept dearly because they were great plot points

and how you stick close to each character no matter how goofy or chaotic they were, they had a lesson for each time they appear and dissappear

that's how the stadium smelled like, the colours and the adrenaline you felt by cheers from the crowds, you felt like you could fly right now with how much you wanted to scream the team's name and let them notice you

it smelled like the victory the monster duo had, it filled you with so much glee to watch them gain fans from the sidelines

you also felt hinata and kageyama's pride swelling and you could knock your chair over if you kept this up

there he was the orange haired boy who used to be your biggest fan standing in front of you who now has a lot more fans trailing behind him

eventhough he smelled musky and felt sweaty you can't control the urge to hug him and he also can't too

you later hugged kageyama and just spilled all your excitement to both of them on how well the matches went and hinata couldn't resist hugging you again and twirling you around

he planned on telling you all about your manga and how he haven't catched up on it yet on some of it and a pang struck your heart as you teared up which confused hinata

ah, he still remembered

"are you crazy, of course i did!" his boyish laughter was louder than your sobs when he rested your head on his chest and pushed him off, complaining about how sweaty he was

oh you silly goose, of course he did

you also met up with the rest and tumbled into yachi when she appeared around the corner and everyone laughed it out

either of you got a headache as you both help each other up

hinata and kageyama would stand near the third years who held their hearts and congratulated them

which kageyama would smile and nod while hinata would still bashfully scratch his neck while happily thanking them because his seniors were proud of him

you would take a selfie with yachi and hinata, yachi would be the one leaping off the ground and eventhough the picture was a little blurry atleast you could catch both of their smiles

the next time you meet up, hinata was there in his comfy clothes melting into all the pillows you pelted at him and you snuggled right next to him when you both were fresh out the shower

just like the old times, how he would wrap around your arm and yachi would be on your left doing the same

except this time, you were the one snuggling onto hinata's arm

you felt kinda sad that yachi couldn't join since she was really busy

but hinata interrupted your thoughts with a screech when you whipped your head back to see what he was doing

the television showed your blood sweat and tears of the countless projects and art that you did about it, dropping your head on hinata's shoulder as not even a second in, you got a series of shout and yells of eagerness from him

"i added a reference of you somewhere~" "huh! really? did you add kageyama?? he'll text me about it later-"

and the night was drowning in the amounts of laughter and euphoria you two shared,

the number 2 who supports you will always be the number 1 in your heart

#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyū!!#karasuno x reader #karasuno #karasuno x y/n

128 notes · View notes

pretendingboyfriends · 4 years ago

Text

click here to add yourself to the taglist!

A/N: heyyyyyy i know this took a long time to finish BUT shit happens and mental health comes before fanfiction. anyways, i hope u guys love this part and pls do not hesitate to send comments, suggestions, etc. when you’re finished and pls don’t forget to reblog!! also, thank u @sunflowers-styles and @fromyourstrulyh for beta-ing this part it would be a mess if u hadn’t <3

Warnings: angst, sadness, slightest bit of sexual tension, deidre being a bitch

Word count: 6.5k+

previous part . fic masterlist . fic playlist

Harry’s aching to talk to you. He still has no clue what he did wrong and he desperately wants to fix things, but you won’t even give him the chance–refusing to do so much as make eye contact with him when speaking. You’re humiliated. Not only because you wanted to kiss him, but also because you made it seem like he did something wrong. However, being your non confrontational self, you haven’t gained the courage to explain anything to him. Plus, you don’t want to make Deidre suspicious, so you force yourself to act just as casual as you had before and, of course, she hasn’t noticed a thing.

The day has been nothing out of the ordinary, you’re sprawled across the couch with your leg in the air, allowing your toe-nails to dry after their first coat of olive green nail polish. The weather is exceptionally nice and your hair is still wet from the dip in the pool you had taken earlier when the sun was significantly hotter than it is now. Harry left for groceries an hour or so ago and now you’re just waiting for Deidre to come out of the bedroom so that the two of you can go out and do something together.

“Okay, so-” She calls from the end of the hallway as she walks, “There’s this party tonight that the boys invited me to and I think you should come with me.”

You frown, swinging your legs back over the edge of the couch so that you can sit up straight and look at her. “What?”

She shuffles through the doorway in a crop top and skirt, her shoes clutched in her hand as she runs her fingers through her hair. “C’mon, It’ll be fun! We haven’t gone to a party together in ages.”

“I thought we were gonna go out together, just the two of us. Wasn’t that the whole purpose of this beach getaway? Just us spending time together?”

She shrugs, “I mean, we never really made a plan, it was just an idea.”

“Well, that’s not fair,” You bite, standing from your spot on the couch and crossing your arms over your chest. “I feel like it was implied that we were going to hang out tonight and now you’re going to some party with people you barely know?”

She rolls her eyes, “We can still hang out at the party!”

“No, Deidre, because I don’t want to go to a party with a bunch of people I don’t know!”

“Oh, come on,” She groans, “Nobody knows anyone at these parties, we’re all just there to have fun!”

“I still don’t want to go.”

“Fine. I’ll just go by myself, then.” She huffs, hunching over to slide her shoes on.

You take a deep breath, “I don’t think you should go either.”

“Oh my god,” She groans, “What are you, my mom?”

“No, I just think, as your best friend, that going to a party with a bunch of people you don’t know very well--a bunch of men you don’t know very well--isn’t a good idea.”

“It’s just a party, I don’t understand why you’re so worked up about it!” She yells, arms flailing around her in frustration as she walks across the living room to the door.

You drag both your hands down your face, groaning in exasperation. “Deidre, you met these guys a few days ago and they’re asking you to get drunk with them. How do you not see how dangerous that is?”

“They’re nice guys, they would never do anything to hurt me!”

“You don’t know that!” You retort, “For all you know, they could be planning to drug you and drag you back to a room to do who knows what to you!”

You hear the honking of a car horn coming from the front of the house and she huffs, shaking her head at you as she leans forward and grabs her purse from the coffee table. “I’m leaving. I’ll send you my location when I get there.” And with that, she’s gone.

You’re left alone in the house, the only sound that can be heard is the choked sob that erupts from your chest as soon as the screen door slams shut behind her. Tears spill down your cheeks with each sob, your body collapsing into the couch before you drop your head into your hands. All you can feel is anger, frustration, and anxiety. You’re concerned for Deidre, however, you’re also infuriated with her. She’s selfish; so selfish, in fact, that she doesn’t even consider that you and her entire family might be affected if anything terrible happens to her.

You sit there on the couch for what seems like decades, your body wracked with sobs as tears stream down your cheeks. Every emotion from the past few days has suddenly burst from within you and you’re unable to contain it.

Finally, after gathering your emotions as much as possible, you lift yourself from the couch and trudge to the kitchen for some comfort food. Swinging the fridge door open, your eyes almost immediately land on a large, unopened bottle of red wine.

“Fuck it.” You mutter, reaching forward and grasping the chilled, glass bottle by its neck. You place the bottle on the counter as you recklessly search for a corkscrew in one of the many drawers lining the countertop. Moments later, you’re mustering every bit of strength inside of you to open the bottle with the screw and after nearly 10 minutes of struggling, the cork pops out with a loud “THUNK”.

You sigh, reaching for the cabinet above you for a wine glass out of reflex, but you quickly decide against the use of a glass and gulp the liquid straight from the bottle. You know your behavior is reckless, but you can’t find a single part of you that cares. You need the pain and frustration to go away somehow and drowning them with an $11 bottle of wine would suffice for now.

Dragging yourself out to the patio, you allow the thick, heady liquid to slide down your throat and settle into your empty stomach as you plop yourself into one of the chairs. A loud rumble of thunder in the distance draws your attention from the bottle, causing you to pull it away from your lips for a moment. You watch as a faint, almost unnoticeable, drizzle gradually turns into a steady shower and then into a heavy downpour. The scarce amount of people that had been on the beach when you first stepped out onto the patio are now shoveling all of their belongings into their arms as fast as they can to avoid being trapped in the downpour.

Soon, the beach is completely vacant. Not a soul is in sight and, oddly enough, you’re drawn to it. Nearly two-thirds of the bottle is resting warmly in your stomach at this point, so your decision making skills are not the most reliable, but something’s telling you to go out and sit in the rain. So, after chugging the rest of the bottle (and quickly rushing inside to use the bathroom because alcohol on an empty stomach is like a free pass to pissing yourself), you allow your intoxicated brain to wisp you down the patio stairs and into the thick, sopping wet sand.

Your clothes have already begun to soak through from the rain as you stumble along the shore, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Your eyes are swollen and bloodshot from crying and your head is throbbing with every step you take. Then, you stop, allowing your body to drop down into the sand before looping your arms around your bent legs and tugging them to your chest.

It’s nearing dusk as you sit there, the sun slowly sinking further and further beneath the horizon behind thick clouds. Your clothes are completely soaked through by this point, but, in your drunken state, you can’t find a reason to care. Tears begin to spill down your cheeks again, mixing with the rain drops already pelting your face and you don’t even bother to wipe them away. Your chest feels numb from the sobs that incessantly wrack your body, but you can’t find the strength to stop. It feels like you’re trapped. Unable to escape the sinking loneliness that increases with every moment of every day and ignoring it only makes it worse.

When you’d first agreed to the trip, you were given a sense of hope. You thought that maybe, if you were around people that made you happy, your loneliness would dissipate and you wouldn’t feel like this anymore; but it’s only become worse.

Unbeknownst to you, Harry is sprinting from his car with an armful of groceries to the front door of the beach house and swinging it open. He calls for Deidre, then calls for you finding silence within the house. He frowns, stumbling further into the living room towards the kitchen so that he can set the large, paper bags down on the table to relieve himself of their weight. He leaves the bags there and begins to search the rooms, finding each one of them empty and becoming even more confused. Lastly, he slides the patio door open to find each chair empty, the empty wine bottle sitting alone on the metal patio table. He steps out, shutting the door behind him before walking to the table and taking the bottle into his hands. The glass is still damp with perspiration, but there isn’t more than a few tablespoons of wine left sloshing at the bottom of the bottle. He places it back where it had been resting before as he lifts his head to look out at the beach. The downpour is so thick that it’s difficult to make out any sort of shapes, but when his eyes land on your figure in the sand, his heart nearly leaps from his chest.

He calls your name as he bounds down the porch stairs and into the sand, jogging to where you sit with your knees pressed to your chest. You turn to him with a sorrowful expression, lip quivering uncontrollably with your weak sobs.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” He stutters, dropping to his knees beside you with one hand on your back and the other on your knee. “Are you hurt? Should I call somebody?”

You shake your head. “M’alright.”

“It doesn’t look like you’re alright,” He frowns, reaching his right hand up to gently turn your face towards him. “Wh- why are you- what’s going on? Why are you out here in this weather all alone?”

The rain is still incessant and it’s hard for either of you to see anything but you’re able to sense just how much Harry cares. You wipe your nose with the back of your hand and shake your head.

“Dee went out,” You slur quietly. “Then, I had a bit of wine.”

“You’re crying.” He points out.

You shake your head again, avoiding his eye contact. “S’just the rain.”

He sighs in defeat, hand dropping from your face as he pushes his wet hair from his own. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.” He grasps your hands gently as he stands, pulling you up with him. You stumble slightly, falling into him and his arms reflexively wrap around your waist, mumbling: “Easy, darling.”

The unremitting mizzle of rain pelts against the both of you as he drags you back up to the house with one arm wrapped around your waist. Your head leans lazily against his shoulder and your body melts into his due to the alcohol coursing through your veins. Keeping a tight grip on you, Harry quickly leads you up the porch stairs and back inside the house, careful to keep you from tripping over your own feet.

The temperature of the house is slightly cooler than outside and you’re unable to keep your teeth from chattering as you step inside. Harry notices this.

“Stay right here, I’m gonna go get some towels.” He mutters, shuffling off down the hallway and leaving you standing soaked, shivering, and intoxicated in the entryway. He returns within a few moments holding a stack of fluffy pink towels (courtesy of the beach house owners), quickly unfolding one of them and wrapping it around your shoulders. You tug the fabric around yourself, teeth chattering as you take a deep breath and look up at him through bloodshot eyes.

“Thank you.”

He nods, taking a towel for himself and leaning over to shake out his dripping hair. You step past him into the hallway, walking towards your bedroom with the towel still wrapped around your shivering frame. The house feels like it's spinning with every step you take, your hand pressed against the wall to support yourself as you guide yourself to the bedroom. You know Harry’s watching you, longing to ask you why you were out in the rain completely wasted, but you don’t feel sober enough to trust him or yourself.

Stumbling into your bedroom, you shuffle through your drawer for some dry clothes, settling on an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants. You don’t even bother with closing the door all the way as you peel the wet clothes from your skin, carelessly dropping them onto the carpet. After you successfully pull the sweatshirt on, you attempt putting on the sweatpants, discovering that in your drunken state, finding the correct leg hole is much harder than you anticipated. So, after struggling for all of one minute, you huff and throw them aside.

“Need help?”

You glance up from where you sit on the edge of the bed to find Harry leaning against the doorway, dressed in a dry t-shirt and sweatpants. You frown, “Were you watching me?”

“No,” He pauses. “I mean- just for a moment, but I swear I didn’t see anything.”

You nod slowly with a yawn, “It’s okay. I’m too drunk to care, anyway.”

He chuckles at that and watches as you stand, stumbling to the upper end of the bed and pulling the comforter down to make room for you to slide beneath it. You plop yourself onto the mattress with a yawn, patting the empty space beside you and looking up at him.

He raises his eyebrows, “Y’want me to…?” You nod at his unfinished question, giving him a small, drunken grin. So, after a moment of hesitation, Harry walks over to the bed and climbs into the empty spot beside you with your eyes glued to him the whole time. He sighs, “What now?”

“Will you… hold me?” You request quietly, avoiding his soft, virescent stare.

He pauses. There isn’t a single fiber of his being that doesn’t want to feel your warmth against him, arms looped around your waist, nose buried into the crevice of your neck; but he knows that you’re drunk and he can’t be sure that you won’t regret anything once the intoxication has passed.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” You shrug. “Unless, of course, you aren’t comfortable with it,”

“I am, but you aren’t fully… ‘here’ right now and I don’t want you to regret anything.”

You sigh, “I think I’m sober enough to ask you to harmlessly spoon me to sleep.”

“Alright,” He nods, moving to lay on his side, head against the pillow. “C’mere, then.”

You smile to yourself, leaning over to switch the small bedside lamp off before allowing your body to lie against the mattress fully before turning to face away from him, waiting for him to wrap his arms around you. The hem of your sweatshirt rides up with your movement and, although you’re completely oblivious to it, Harry notices. His eyes focus on the soft skin of your hip and the thin fabric of your panties resting against it. Fuck. Swallowing the heavy lump wedged in his throat, he moves forward and loops his arm around your waist, tugging your back into his chest with a quiet grunt.

One may assume that two people in this situation, given the status of your relationship being strictly friends (in the lightest sense of the word), would feel uncomfortable or awkward, but both of you, somehow, feel a sense of relief. Two long, breathy sighs emit from both of you in unison as your bodies fit together like two pieces of thread, meant to intertwine perfectly to create a beautiful piece of clothing.

The two of you lie there in the dark silence, taking slow, deep breaths to calm your fluttering heartbeats as the tension builds. If you were sober, you definitely wouldn’t have even considered being in this situation, but since there’s nearly 25 ounces of liquid courage coursing through your veins, you’re unable to keep yourself from being brutally honest about what you want. Silently, you move your hand from where it rests on the mattress, sliding it over his hand that rests just between your stomach and ribs and taking it into your own. He feels your hand, but doesn’t say anything.

Every sense of your caution has been thrown to the wind at this point, so you don’t even consider hesitating when asking: “Do you remember that song that came on the other day when we were in the car?”

He’s caught completely off guard by your question and frowns. “I-uh, yeah, I remember. ‘Dancing With Myself’?”

You nod in acknowledgement, silence settling over you again for a few lasting moments before you speak again. “The other day when you were talking about the meaning of that song, how it sounds upbeat and happy but the lyrics are actually him talking about how lonely he is, it reminded me of myself…” You pause, sighing quietly, trying to blink away the inevitable tears. You can sense that he’s listening, though, so you continue. “I just- sometimes it’s hard for me to feel at home with people even if they are my friends, and there are many times when I just see myself with them and I just don’t even feel like I’m there. Like, despite being in a room full of people, like the song says, I’m dancing with myself, trying in vain to make myself look like the exact opposite of how I feel. It’s like I just have to go through life alone, despite the people around me.”

He’s quiet for a while and it scares you. Maybe you said too much. Maybe he’s uncomfortable. You squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for the tears to spill and then he speaks.

“Is that- is that why you were crying?”

“Partially,” You whisper, staring straight ahead into the dark room. Harry’s arm moves a little and then you feel his fingers brushing against your hand before lacing his fingers between your own without a word. His body presses closer to yours and you ever so faintly feel his lips against your shoulder for just a moment.

“I’m sorry.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, letting the tears fall and trickle down onto the pillow where your head lays. “It fucking hurts,” You take a long, shaky breath. “It hurts when I can’t even tell my best friend about how I feel because I feel like I’m being selfish for giving her the weight of my issues.”

“You’re not being selfish,” He whispers, squeezing your hand gently. “If you’re hurting, she should be there for you no matter what. Just like you are with her,” He pauses for a beat, taking a deep breath. “I think you’re one of the most caring people I have ever met. You have always been there for Deidre even though recently she’s been a bit of twat to you.”

“Yeah,” You chuckle at that and he breathes a small laugh, tightening his arms around you. Silence settles around you once more, and you think that maybe he’s fallen asleep but then he stirs and moves his hand from yours to tilt your face and body in his direction, leaning over you. Your eyes meet as he gently swipes his thumb against your damp skin, collecting the tears that had just escaped from your eyes with a small smile. Just as he is about to drop his hand from your face, you grasp him by the wrist, pressing his large palm to the curve of your cheek. His gaze flickers between your lips and your eyes, even in the darkness of the bedroom you’re able to make out each other’s faces and you see the edges of his lips curl up into the faintest smile.

“Also,” You breathe, thumb stroking the skin of his wrist gently, “I’m sorry about the other night.”

It takes a moment for him to process what you mean, but when he does he shakes his head. “No, no, it was my fault. You didn’t want me to kiss you and I shouldn’t have crossed your boundaries like that. I’m sorry.”

“No, Harry, that’s not-” You sigh, “I just- I was afraid it would mess things up with Deidre and I was putting her feelings before my own, which I now realize wasn’t fair to either of us.” You motion between the two of you.

“I get it,” He nods, watching as you take his hand from your cheek and interlock your fingers between his. You’re still mildly intoxicated, so your confidence levels are also quite a bit higher than normal. Harry watches you in silence, the two of you mindlessly fiddling with each other’s fingers like it was the most normal thing in the world for you to do. And then he clears his throat. “So, you- you did want to kiss me?”

You pause, bottom lip slipping between your teeth as you look up at his face. “Yeah.”

“Hm… good to know.”

Silence falls over the two of you again as you focus back on your fingers dancing against his. You want to keep talking to him; You want to say ‘fuck it’ and throw every bit of caution to the wind regarding Deidre, falling into this “scandalous” affair with her brother; You want to tell him how you feel, express every bit of longing you’ve had for him since the first day his dimpled smile met your gaze, but you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open, the alcohol in your system taking over and pushing you to surrender. So you do.

You yawn, “I think I should probably go to sleep now.”

“I can leave if you want…” He responds, lifting himself up from the mattress slightly, but you stop him with a quick shake of your head, tugging his arm back around your waist.

“Stay until I fall asleep?”

He smiles to himself, arms tightening around you as he nuzzles his face into your hair. “Okay.”

Harry hadn’t intended on falling asleep with you. He’d planned on waiting until you fell asleep and then would sneak off to his own bed, but it’s morning now and the two of you are lying fast asleep in the exact position you were in the night before. His arms wound tightly around you, chest pressed to your back, and his nose pressed into the base of your neck. In a way, the warmth and peace his arms give you feel completely normal; like you’re long-term lovers, dozing in the soft morning sunlight, awaiting the new day.

The alarming screech of your ringtone rudely interrupts your slumber and causes you to lift yourself from the mattress and angrily slap your hand around in search of your phone. Finding it, you squint at the illuminated screen to see Deidre’s profile picture and name, you groan and push yourself to sit up on the mattress as you slide your finger across the screen to answer the call.

“Hello?” You croak, knuckling frustratedly at your puffy, sleep-filled eyes.

“Hi,” She sounds out of breath, almost frantic. “I know you’re probably still mad at me but everything is okay. I didn’t come home last night because I ended up passing out on Jeff’s couch after everyone left and he failed to wake me up, even though I told him to. But yeah, um, I’m sorry, I’m on my way home. Please don’t be mad at me.”

You should be mad at her, but it’s early and your hungover brain is making it harder for you to form any sort of emotion. “It’s fine. We-I fell asleep early anyways so I didn’t notice.”

She sighs in relief, “Okay. Well, I’ll be home in like 10 minutes,”

“See ya.” You mumble half-heartedly before the line cuts out and you’re dropping your phone into your lap with a yawn. Somehow, during that conversation, you’d completely forgotten the presence of Harry. That is, until he clears his throat and shuffles on the bed, causing you to turn and look at him.

“G’morning,” He mutters, his deep, syrupy accent tainted with sleep. “Was that-?”

“Deidre, yeah,” You finish, rubbing your hands over your face. “She’s on her way.”

“Oh… then I should- I should probably get out of here,”

You nod and he pushes the comforter off of his body, sliding over the side of the bed and planting his feet against the carpeted floor. Once he’s left the room, you drag yourself out of bed to change into something a bit more appropriate.

Your memory of the night before is somewhat of a blur due to the amount of wine you’d consumed, but you do remember the things you said to him right before falling asleep; the way he touched and held you like you were his own. Your heart flutters at the memory of the way he brushed a fallen tear from your skin and spoke to you in a soft, soothing voice. You’ve deceived yourself by saying that this is just a crush, because it’s more than that and deep down you’re slowly beginning to realize it.

After pulling on the clean, discarded sweatpants that, in your drunken frustration, had been left in a crumple on the floor, you make your way to the kitchen. Harry’s there already, spreading mashed avocado onto freshly toasted bread before lightly salting it with garlic salt and placing a perfectly fried egg on top. He’s humming to himself as he works to make more slices and you smile, clearing your throat to catch his attention.

He turns his head in your direction. “Oh, hey! Do you want one slice or two?”

“Um, I’ll have two, please,” You respond, slowly making your way across the small kitchen to where he stands at the counter. “You didn’t have to make breakfast, though,”

He shakes his head as he sucks a bit of avocado from his thumb. “It’s no problem, really. I don’t mind.”

Just as he finishes his sentence, Deidre walks through the front door, calling: “Hello! I’m back!”

You walk through the kitchen doorway to find her at the door, sporting the same outfit as she had been last night. Her hair is tied up into a messy bun, though, and her shoes are in her hand instead of on her feet.

“Good morning,” You greet.

She tosses her shoes aside and smiles at you. “Hey, I’m sorry about last night. Can we talk later?”

“Yeah, sure.” You nod and give her a small smile back, lacking the energy to still be mad at her and giving into your tendency of forgiveness.

As she follows you into the kitchen, she greets Harry with a quick ‘good morning’, grabbing a fully assembled piece of toast from him before scurrying off for a shower and leaving the two of you alone once more. It’s easier being around him now. There’s a hint of tension now, but it isn’t malicious or uncomfortable tension. You feel drawn to him even more than you did before and you can tell he’s feeling the same way.

“God, Harry, that was so good.” You nearly moan as you wipe the crumbs of toast from your fingertips.

He smiles, swallowing and wiping the corner of his mouth. “M’glad you liked it.”

“You’ll have to teach me your cooking and baking skills someday,” You chuckle, subtly hinting at spending more time with him.

He downs the rest of the coffee in his mug, humming. “I’d love to.”

You smile at him, standing to take your dishes to the sink and holding out your hand for his. He frowns and shakes his head. “None of that, I’ll clean up.”

“At least let me help.” You pout.

He chuckles. “If you insist.”

You follow him to the sink, watching as he takes the dishes and begins to rinse them and hand them over to you so that you can place them into the dishwasher. There really isn’t much of a reason for you to be helping him, but you’re finding it hard to keep yourself away from him. The giddy flutter of your heart when his fingers brush against yours and the flirtatious smiles spread across your faces makes you feel utterly alive and you never want it to end. But, eventually, there are no more dishes to clean and you’re in desperate need of a shower, so he thanks you for your help and the two of you go your separate ways.

Cold, frothy water splashes against your bare feet as you walk along the sandy shore. Your sandals are dangling from your fingertips and your loose-fitted jeans are rolled up to your shins to allow a more comfortable stroll. The sun is just beginning to set, casting a peach hue along the crystal-like water as it rolls lazily back and forth.

Deidre is a few feet behind you, collecting a lone seashell she’d spotted during her stroll. A quiet moment passes and then she’s beside you again, palm stretched out into your direction to show you the small, detailed shell with a glowing pride.

“Oh, that one’s gorgeous.” You gush at its beauty, taking it between your own fingers to examine it further. It’s a small tulip shell, only about two inches in size, but its shimmery, pearlish gleam is almost breathtaking under the dim sunlight.

“Think I’ll try to find another one and make them into earrings.” She smiles as you place it back into her hand.

“Yeah, that’d be cute!”

The two of you have only just left the beach house in an effort to be somewhere alone so the two of you can talk things out. Deidre is silent for a moment, both of you ruminating the possible ways to begin the conversation. Then, she speaks.

“I’m sorry for leaving you like that yesterday, that wasn’t very cool of me.”

You smile a little, “Thanks. I’m sorry for getting so upset with you. I definitely could’ve handled that better.”

She nods. “Yeah. I think we both could’ve handled that much better.”

“Definitely,” You agree, kicking the damp sand with your bare feet. “I just think that, you know, you promised to spend time with me on this trip and I feel like I’ve barely seen you. And I’m glad you’ve made friends, but I’d kinda like to just spend time with you at some point.”

“Yeah,” She sighs, “I’m sorry.”

You turn to her, stopping in your tracks and opening your arms for a hug. “Are we good?”

“Of course.” She smiles and wraps you into a giant bear hug, causing both of you to stumble on the sand a bit. Both of you are giggling uncontrollably once you pull away, nearly falling into the sand beneath your feet.

“I’ll race you back to the house,” You smile deviously, planting your feet in the starting position and waiting for her to do the same.

She smirks and positions herself beside you. “Oh, you’re on.”

The two of you bolt towards the house at top speed, sand kicking up behind you in big clouds as scurry along the beach under the pale evening sunlight.

You reach the house moments before her, immediately collapsing into the sand in front of the stairs to catch your breath. Deidre is quick to stumble up behind you, nearly skidding to a stop as she takes several big gulps of air through a laugh.

“Still got it,” You wink at her, a similar image of the two of you in the same positions at a much younger age flashing across your mind briefly.

She flashes you a mocking smile with a tilt to her head and then the repetitive ring of her phone in her pocket interrupts the moment. You watch as she tugs it from her pocket, sliding her finger across the screen and lifting it to her ear with a peppy greeting to the other person on the line. Immediately by the tone of her voice you know exactly what’s about to happen. She’s going to do exactly what she’s been doing since the trip began– or rather, since the two of you were teenagers– she’s going to sputter out a mouthful of excuses and then she’s going to leave.

“Okay, I’ll be out front in five minutes! See ya!” She says before sliding her phone back into her pocket and smiling at you. “That was Jeffrey and his friends, they invited me out again tonight and I promised I would go.”

She doesn’t even fucking realize...

Sheathing your blinding frustration with a tinge of annoyance, you nod, motion up the stairs before mumbling: “Well, then, you better get going.”

Watching her scurry back up the stairs and into the house, your heart sinks into your chest. She’s so used to you just allowing things like this to happen that she doesn’t even realize how much it’s hurting your relationship and how much it’s hurting you.

After dropping your sandals there you find yourself wandering from the bottom of the stairs back out into the shore, lazily kicking at the shallow water whilst your arms are wrapped around your chest. It’s gotten much darker and people are beginning to filter out through the dunes, lugging their belongings or simply just walking hand in hand.

The waves crash repeatedly with a lulling, crisp sound that drowns out all other sound in your ears. The air is warm and so is the wind as it swirls and whips around you, causing the loose fabric of your sweater to flap obnoxiously.

Faintly in the distance, you can hear the screen door of the back porch swing shut and it draws your eyes back up to the house where Harry bounds down the stairs with a smile on his face. A smile just for you.

“Hey!” He calls, gasping for air as he jogs towards you across the sand. You wave back at him with a small smile, crossing your arms over your chest as you stand and wait for him to reach you.

“Hi,”

“You alright?” He frowns, stepping closer to you.

You sigh, fingertips pressed against your forehead in a weak attempt to hide your distress. “I- uh, yeah I’m okay.”

“Doesn’t really look like it,” He says, tilting his head to examine your face a bit better.

You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to hold back the tears beginning to build at the edge of your lash line, taking a deep breath. “It’s just- fuck, Harry, she keeps doing it. She keeps telling me that she wants to spend more time together and then she just leaves me. And she doesn’t even fucking realize it,” You look back up at him in the dim evening lighting, wrapping your sweater clad arms around yourself. “Like- what am I supposed to do? She doesn’t listen to me.”

A pregnant pause follows when you finish speaking before Harry speaks. “I don’t know if you can really do anything. Deidre is going to do what she wants to do, regardless of how it affects you.”

He’s right. As much as you never thought you’d actually admit it to yourself, you know he’s right. It feels almost as if a weight has been lifted off your chest; a weight that’s been there since you and Deidre blossomed into teenagers and she gradually began to treat you this way. And then you’re looking back at Harry, gears turning in your brain at a pace that’s almost too fast for you to process. Then, without any sort of caution or judgement as to what it might result in, you’re surging forward pressing a hand to the back of his neck, beneath his mop of hair, and frantically pulling his lips against yours.

It takes a millisecond for him to react, but then he’s kissing you back harder, long arms coming to wrap around your waist and press you into his chest as his soft, supple lips move skillfully against yours. Every long, heart aching year that passed that you had grown to care for him flashes through your mind; every smile he directed at you; every time he wrapped his arms around you in a giant bear hug, mumbling: “Nice to see you,” in your ear; every moment that you spent falling in love with him.

He’s the first to pull away, arms unwavering from their place around you. “What about Deidre?”

You stare back at him for a moment before shaking your head, mumbling: “I don’t care.” under your breath, eyes flickering down to his lips before both of you are lunging forward once again.

Both of you stumble around on the sand for a moment and then Harry falls back into the sand, ass first, bringing you down with him. The two of you are a fit of giggles and snorts as you land in the fluffy, damp sand, limbs tangled between limbs. You land with your legs straddling his slim waist, hands planted against the sand beneath him, hovering over him with a smile. He gazes back up at you with his own dimpled smile, his hands resting cautiously on your hips. He stares at you, studying your face as the two of you catch your breath before he says something that has your stomach twisting into knots and your skin bursting into flames.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,”

You lift one of your hands to cover your face, giggling nervously at his words as he lifts himself to sit in the sand with you in his lap. “I’m serious.”

“Why?” You whisper in response, hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

“God,” He mumbles your name, “You might not see it, but I see it. And I’ve seen it since we were kids; since I was 18.”

You’re speechless, unable to form a full sentence to respond to him, so you just grab his face between your hands and latch your lips onto his again. You stay like that, lips dragging against each other’s lazily until the sun finishes setting and the only source of light comes from the bright glow of the moon. And then he pulls away again, hooded eyelids trained on yours.

“Let me take you out. Like, on a date.”

You smile, “Okay.”

don’t forget to reblog if u enjoyed!!<3

taglist: @harryandthatgayvodka @first-one-that-i-see @summertimestyles @bopbopstyles @harrysclementines @emsthoughts @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @clorenafila @harries-gayvodka @harryspinkshoelace@glitterwhore @lovemenowseemenever @dmcupcakexo @happydays @shut-up-and-smile @sisters-of-the-mo0n @fallingslowlyforu @cocoamoonmalfoy @moonlightmaliksblog @sunflowers-styles @harryspirate @slytherinambitious @sunflower6why @harrys-bitch @apples2019 @folkloreearthangel @yellwbrokenblue @sweetwatermelonsugar @harrystyles10 @flammedepigalle @harryinsweatersandbandanas @clean-and-claire @hes-sogolden @wearethedreamrry @froggystyles @marauderswhisperer @afterstylesmadeit @cassiopeiaskies @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @heusedtobegodsfavourite @itisafilthyworld @ursogoldenshan @xaftertastex @pretendsnottoknowthewords @imakillerqueengunpowdergelatine @iconicharry @rileigh1tpwk @stilljosiegrossie @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist@londonmademedoit @harrysleftchelseaboot @pinkpolariodgirl @svnflowervol-6 @tazismysuperfriend @harryspinkshoelace @niabeeah @styleslouvr @foreverandaday-1 @sunflwer-styles @omg-brad @me-a-hopeless-romantic @hhh33-3l @carolina-angel @beequeen8020 @caprisunstyles @stylesfics-xx @luminescencefics @bxtchboy69 @myfavfanficsever @simplyrucas

311 notes · View notes

snowdice · 4 years ago

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 61]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28

Pls story. I just want to get out of the sidequest. I’m just going to go until I finish up the sidequest. It’s been too long.

Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

“You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

“That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

“I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

“Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

“Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

“Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

50234

Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

“Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

“Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

This seemed to slightly alleviate Virgil’s suspicion, but Princess Marisol still seemed antsy. Patton really needed to start slowly introducing the both of them to more people.

Logan finished talking with Chester after a few moments and it was time to climb through the hole in the wall. He wished he saw in the tunnel whatever Logan with his excited eyes and bounce to his step obviously saw. Or even that was more comfortable in the dark closed in space as Virgil obviously was. As it was, Patton’s nose scrunched up at the thought off all of the spiders that could be living everywhere in the secret tunnel, but he pushed through.

The entrance to the tunnel had been made only a little bit from the room Virgil had mentioned and Chester had led them through it after only a couple of seconds. As Patton had suspected, the room was already lit up and probably cleaned a little bit by the people who had cut into the wall, not that he was complaining.

Virgil was still clinging a bit to Patton’s shirt, though it seemed to be less out of anxiety at this point and more out of a desire to stick close. He was peering around curiously at the lit-up space. He probably hadn’t seen much of it in the dark when he’d been here before.

Yet, his curiosity was nothing compared to how excited Logan seemed to be. Now Patton may have not been interested in the room itself, but he was entertained by how interested Logan was and was happy to encourage that.

“What do you think this place is?” he asked Logan.

Logan hummed contemplatively, eyes looking around. “Well,” he said. “It’s a bedroom clearly, and old. Considering the location it is in in the castle, the size, the decorations, and it’s likely age, I’d imagine it was a bedroom of a royal family member. This used to be the royal wing three royal lines ago.”

“Bearing that in mind, there are a couple of likely possibilities for the origin of the room as well as the reason it was sealed up, but we will need to investigate more in order to come to an actual conclusion.” He had already placed the bag he’d brought on the ground and was going through it, pulling out things that Patton did not recognize. He also got a piece of paper and sat on the floor to start to sketch.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“I’m sketching the floorplan of the room,” Logan said. “I will then put a grid on it so we can investigate while being sure that we aren’t missing anything.”

#proofread stories #not writing

25 notes · View notes

soft-black-teabag · 4 years ago

Note

um hi.. im migrating from stan twt here and needed friends so the incorrect i-land account told me to send you an ask? sorry if this is confusing i'm not really sure either

AWWW, BABY, DON'T WORRY, IT'S OKAY.

First of all, that blog's name is Tara and she's one of my babies, she sent you to me because I'm...like...I mean, you saw the name of my blog, I'm the mom of the group and I'm the one that introduces people in this small gang.

Let's start from the beginning

People told me that on twitter others tend to be...kinda...mean?

So yeah I just want to assure you that here you totally don't have to worry about it, we're basically a bunch of people fangirling for their boys with me adopting everyone and going all mama bear on them.

And with all my adopting we kind of formed a small family (that ended up being called my Egglings) and we always try our best to make new people in the fandom/on tumblr feel...like...nice? Accepted?

This is also why I have a small taglist of people that I tag under some iland content (especially arts that got bot enough notes because we need to support artist on tumblr) or when someone ask for friends or just, things like that? So tell me if you wanna get added (but really, only if you want, I use it quite a lot and we reblog a shit ton).

To get to know more people you can also join groupchats (I have one as the pinned post, there are most of my egglings here).

Also I want you to know that I (but honestly all of us) will always be glad to help you out or just talk, so don't you ever worry about reaching out to us, sending us asks, dm, submission, comments, reblog or whatever, it would just make us happy, really.

Now I'm gonna tag

@moonxscribbles @prikicarat @sunshine-sunoo @sunghoonseyebrowcult @heeseungsteeth @fullsuntrash @svnghoonie @everely @iland-enthusiast @iland-debutation @incorrectilandquotes @junkyuala @jakeyyyy @jakeshim @jasuke @artzyyangel @simpforwendy @bangchanseonyeondan @pardondoyouhavejams @mysticpenguincreation @sunflowersunghoon @monstax-bangtan @gay-jesus-official @sunoo-luvs @mmagicshop @mitaesoroo @haneul-s @hard-life-of-a-multi-stan @i--land @just-a-gay-bean @littlejisung @rainbowsocks @vote-for-jungwon-pls @wonbunsu @silverstonemanor

Be nice to the new baby

#giulia's ask #new eggling

56 notes · View notes

staticscreenwriting · 5 years ago

Text

All you have to be is here - Part 11

Synopsis: Billy has fucked up and has to do 60 days of community service at a home for troubled kids and youth. Working with the kids there makes him learn a lot about himself. Also there’s a girl there his age who has a phenomenal smile and who is way too nice to him.

I guess I should mention there’s a lot of angst in this. Talk of substance abuse later on, physical abuse, emotional abuse. All that kind of gnarly real life stuff. It deals with kids and teens struggling with a a shitty family life so be aware of that.

Part 11 of ?

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 //

Please help a girl out by reblogging. Thank you ♥

Attention ! If you wanna be tagged pls send me a message or an ask it’s easier and faster for me than going through the tags of each part every time. Thank you :)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

I never really ever felt so adored before Never really ever felt this type of vulnerable Don’t have to hide, don’t have to fear All you have to be is here Never really ever felt so adored before And I said I wanna feel like this forever Even if forever’s just for now We’re on fire, let us burn As the outside world, it turns We are here and alive In our corner of time Forevermore

�� I’m excited” Billy admits, as his eyes wander around the room trying to focus on anything but the words that have just left his mouth. It’s a weird situation, talking about his feelings to someone who’s basically a stranger. It starts to feel good though, right.

“ I don’t think I’ve been this excited in a long time. It’s uh — it feels good. “

Dr. K moves his glasses up his nose and looks at Billy in a way that feels familiar, comfortable. Sure, Billy is well aware that Dr. K gets paid to listen to him, but yet it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like he actually cares and that makes one hell of a difference.

“ Yeah ? That’s good. Why do you think that is ? What makes you so excited about this ? “

He’s been asking himself this question ever since he first caught himself smiling at the thought of going back to California. Honestly, there’s no one answer to this. No answer that would put it all into words properly.

“ Honestly ? “

“ Please. “

“ I don’t know. I mean, it’s home and I’m excited to go back. I have happy memories there, you know ? That’s a place I used to be happy. The idea of taking (Y/N) there makes me excited. It’s like bringing the two things together that mean something to me. “

Again, doctor K smiles. It’s one of those warm, understanding smiles that let you know your rambling makes sense even when it doesn’t feel like it.

“ What about your mom ? “ Dr. K asks, “ have you decided whether or not you want to go see her ? “

“ I mean, that’s the best case scenario. I want to I just — it scares me. “

“ What about it scares you ? “

Billy bites his lip in uncertainty “ Look, from the moment she left I’ve been wondering why. Coming up with reasons and scenarios and what-ifs. Why did she leave ? What will happen if we ever meet again ? I came up with so many different ideas of how that could go. I’m scared it’s gonna be the bad scenarios that will end up coming true. Like, at this point I can still make myself believe in whatever I want to. Once I go see her and know the truth, I’ll have to live with it. Whether I like the outcome or not. “

“ Closure is good, Billy. I know it can be scary and that it might hurt to face an uncomfortable truth. But closure is good. It helps us leave behind the past and move onto a future free from the weight of it all. I think what you’re doing is the right thing. “

It feels good to hear those words, to have someone validate his choices. Someone who cares. Someone whose opinion Billy cares about.

“ You think ? “

Dr. K nods. “ Listen, Billy. I know you still have a hard time opening up to me and that’s completely fine. I just want you to know that I see the effort you put into making a positive change for yourself. I am proud of you, Billy. While you’re away, I want you to remember this and if there’s ever a situation that you feel overwhelms you. When you just need someone to talk to, please do not hesitate to contact me. “

“ You sure they’re paying you enough for that ? “ Billy jokes, but really it’s just a way to not let on how much those words affect him. “ Call me if you need me” is not something he’s heard often in his life.

“ Contrary to what you believe I didn’t choose this career for the financial aspects of it. I care about everyone who comes to me for help. I think asking for help and accepting it, takes a great deal of bravery. Just call me if you need help, okay ? “

Billy nodds “ yeah, okay. “ and then adds a very quiet “thanks. “

Dr. K is right, accepting help is terrifying and takes a great deal of effort from Billy. But maybe, Billy thinks, maybe sometimes it’s worth it in the end.

It’s rainy and gloomy and gray as Billy steps out of the door of the therapist's office and into the chilly Hawkins’ air.

God, Billy can not wait to get away from here. To get back into the warmth and feel the California sun burning on his skin. There’s nothing quite like it. Hawkins’ summers can’t compare. They don’t even come close to it.

California sun comes with a warmth that seeps right into your bones, your veins, your heart. It gives you a warmth like nothing else does. And maybe, Billy thinks, maybe his memories of the sun are tainted by childhood nostalgia and images of a part where happy moments came plenty. But whatever it is, he doesn't really care. California sun is magical and he can’t wait to share it with his own personal ray of sunshine.

When his eyes fall onto the figure leaning against the Camaro, her bright pink uniform shining through the gray like a beacon of light and hope and joy, Billy thinks it’s like god or whatever higher power people chose to believe in, has heard his thoughts just then.

(Y/N) looks gorgeous, hair messy and apron hanging slightly lopsided around her waist. Billy’s very own denim jacket wrapped around her shoulders like a shield from the slowly approaching winds of an ever looming fall.

She’s here and, like every time he catches sight if her, his heart does a little jump. He hopes this feeling never goes away. That she will always be able to make his heart beat faster and his fingertips tingle, just by being there. He hopes he makes her feel this way too. Forever.

Jeez, we’re thinking about forever now, huh ?

It’s scary. So scary.

But oh so exciting.

She’s here but she’s not supposed to be. Not yet. She’s supposed to be at work. Billy’s supposed to pick her up. He’s supposed to come by a bit early and eat a piece of that delicious cherry pie they sell at the diner. Her cherry pie. Despite being a horrible cook, she’s actually quite the decent baker. Her pies are phenomenal.

As he gets closer he can make out the red hue around her eyes, the wet stains on her cheeks, can hear the sniffles.

“ Hey you. “ she says and manages to conjure up a tiny smile. It’s not reaching her eyes, not even close. Billy can tell it takes effort. He never wants her to have to put effort into her smiles. They should come naturally. He wants to put them on her face every single moment he possibly can.

“ Hey. What’s up with you ? “

“ Nothing. “

“ Yeah okay, try again. I can see you’ve been crying. “

For a moment she just looks at Billy with her big, sad eyes. He’s never really cared about another person’s emotions. Except for maybe his mom’s but that was a long time ago. Seeing (Y/N) sad, hurting, it makes his heart construct in painful ways right inside his chest.

If only he could take it all from her and put it on himself, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“ Can we just drive around for a bit. I need to calm down before I tell you. “

“ Sure.” Billy agrees then reaches out to hold her in place as she turns to get into the car “ Hey. Sad girl. Whatever it is, It’ll be alright. I’ll fix it. “ he says then places a soft, gentle kiss on her lips then another on her forehead.

And he means it. He’ll fix this, whatever it is. She’s help him fix so many things about himself without ever giving him the feeling that there was anything to be fixed in the first place. She never makes him feel broken and yet she puts him back together. If he can do even half as much for her he’s good with that.

Driving around with nowhere to go feels weirdly liberating. Nothing matters then but them and the road and the music softly playing from the car radio. It’s as if for a moment all fears and problems melt away.

Of course life doesn’t stop then but it feels like it. It feels like it all slows down and gives you time to breathe. Time to sort your thoughts. Time to calm down and let life consume you with it’s open roads and beautiful songs and the touch of your lover’s hand on yours.

“ So — “ Billy starts, eyes still fixated on the road. There’s something about car rides that make it easier to have meaningful conversations. He hopes she’s comfortable enough to talk to him now. He wants to give her all the time she needs but it’s hard to sit here and know she’s hurting and not being able to help.

“ I uh — I got fired. “

“ Wait, what ? “

(Y/N) nods and bites her lower lip in anxiety “ yup. That’s why I was able to come meet you at the doctor’s office. “

“ Why the fuck would they fire you ? “

It makes no sense in Billy’s mind, why they would ever fire her. She’s dedicated and sweet and way too kind to more of the assholes coming by the diner.

“ Well, apparently asking for a day off on your birthday is reason enough to kick someone out. “

“ That’s bullshit “

“ Mmmh. The diner also belongs to Keith’s parents so — “

“ Ah fuck those guys. The Kinsellas are a bunch of assholes. You want me to go punch him in the face ? Because I will, dude’s been begging for it. “

(Y/N) places a hand gently on his. Her touch is warm and familiar and comfortable and it’s ridiculous to Billy how she’s the one comforting him. That’s his job right now.

“ Nope, I don’t want you to do that because you’re already on thin ice with authorities and I can’t have them lock you up. Not before our trip. “

It’s nice to hear her laugh, even if it’s a joke at his expense. If it only makes her laugh she can make fun of him all she wants. 24-7.

“ It just sucks, you know ?! I need to pay rent. I mean I still have some savings that’ll keep me afloat for the next month and pretty sure it’s also enough for our California trip. But after than I’m broke. I need to find a new job asap. Otherwise they’ll make me move back into my grandparents’ place and I’m really not feeling that. I love ‘em but — I just don’t want that. “

“ I can throw in some cash. I mean I basically live with you most of the time anyway so — “

“ No. Absolutely not. I don’t want you to do that. “

The tone in her voice leaves no room to disagree. She means those words down to every letter and syllable. There’s no arguing here because the way her eyes look at him let him know he’s gonna lose anyway.

“ Okay. Okay fine. I’m gonna find a way to fix it though. I promise. “

“ You do that, pretty boy. You always do. “

She says it with a hopeful spark in her words. Like it’s not just something she’s saying to make him drop the topic. She really believes it.

She really believes in him.

“ Hey, how about a little detour ? “

“ What are you thinking ? “ (Y/N) asks, eyebrow raised in confusion.

“ Ah you’ll see. We’ll have to stop by a 7/11 on our way though. “

“ The way you’re saying this makes me think we shouldn’t be doing this. “

“ Oh babe, you have no idea. “

“ I can’t believe you’re making me do this “ (Y/N) says, a laugh lacing her words. It’s almost hidden but Billy can just about make it out.

They’re leaning against his camaro, a carton of eggs resting on the roof of the car. Night slowly creeps up on the two as the stand facing the pristine white house of one Jenna Richardson.

There’s a shiny black porsche parked at the side of the road in front of her driveway. Too shiny. That’s gonna change.

“ I’m not making you do anything, “ Billy starts then takes an egg and places it in (Y/N)’s hand. “ but he deserves this. For cheating on you, for treating you like shit at that party. For making his parents fire you because his ego was cracked. Egg his car, babe. It’s gonna feel so good. “

She moves the egg around in her hand for a moment, contemplating her next moves. If there’s something Billy knows for sure, it’s that sometimes you need to break things, or at least mess them up a little, to calm your anger and frustrations.

(Y/N) glances up at him, before a smirk spreads on her lips. “ You really think I should do this ? “

“ Babe. Keith’s in there probably giving unsatisfactory head to a girl he cheated on you with just a few hours after his parents fired you. If anyone deserves to get their car egged it’s him. “

“ As if Keith goes down on a girl. “

“ No ? “

“ No. Told you, you were the first. But damn right he deserves those eggs “ and with that she throws the first one, watching it shatter against the car with a satisfying smash. The yolk and egg white drip down the side and it’s quite disgusting. (Y/N) loves it.

“ This feels good. “

“ Right ? I told you. “

They proceed to throw more eggs and in the matter of minutes the whole car is covered. Just how Billy has envisioned it. Just how Keith deserves.

“ Hey, Billy. Guess what we are now ? “ (Y/N) asks between her laughs.

“ What are we ? “

“ Partners in crime “

Her joke isn’t half as funny as she makes it out to be but he’ll keep that to himself. Hearing her laugh is worth listening to all the horrible jokes.

“ Alright, little criminal. Let me take you home. You need to pack. “

“ That’s right. Pack for California. “

God, he can’t wait to take his girl to experience a California sunrise.

Billy genuinely considers throwing himself out the dining room window that evening as they all sit down for dinner. It’s Susan’s birthday and Susan’s birthday is always an awkward affair.

(Y/N) is at her place, packing her suitcase and probably singing along to the radio. What Billy wouldn’t give to be there with her right now.

Instead he’s sitting by the dining room table, dry meatloaf on his plate. While Neil pretends to be so deeply in love with this woman, showering her in compliments and gifts. Billy wants to throw up at the sheer hypocrisy of it all. As if they hadn’t spent the whole of yesterday yelling at each other.

Moments like these are what Billy hates the most. They’re so goddamn fake and it makes no sense. All the people sitting around the dinner table know the truth. They’re living it every single day. Where’s the need to pretend ? They all share the burden of knowing the truth. Knowing that gifts and compliments aren’t a usual part of the Hargrove-Mayfield household.

Max sends him a look over the edge of her mug. There’s no words needed. It’s a silent understanding. A quiet reassurance that she too is pissed off at this situation. He almost smiles at that. Almost.

Billy lets the conversation move along, only listening with one ear. He’s no active part of this family and there’s no reasons to get involved in any dialogue here. He does listen though, he always does.

Listening is mandatory in a household where everything that you don’t hear can be used against you in painful ways. So you listen and you absorb and at night you try to filter out the important information and hope for the best.

His ears only perk up when Susan places a small cheesecake on the table and starts talking about the specific bakery she’s got it from. It belongs to one of her friends and it’s new in town. An inheritance of sorts.

“ Can you believe she did this all on her own ? “ Susan asks a very uninterested Neil “ she really needs to hire some more employees. “

Neil sends her a fake smile her way, nods, then goes back to his food and his newspapers. It’s a rinse and repeat kind of ordeal. He doesn’t give a shit about anything Susan says. Sometimes Billy wonders why the two of them got married in the first place. There’s never really been any love and all the empty compliments and gifts that he shoves at her this one day in a year surely can’t be enough to make up for how he treats her the rest of the year.

No, Neil doesn’t care. Billy does though. Not because he particularly gives a shit about what Susan has to say. But this one specific information could be just the thing he needs to fix things for (Y/N).

So he waits. Max is the first to finish dinner and leave the table, she throws him a confused glance as she passes him. Usually Billy gulps down his food and leaves as soon as he possibly can. Every moment spent with this fake image of what a family is supposed to be, sickens him. Today he’s got ulterior motives though. Motives so important he even asks for another serving of dry meatloaf in order to gain some time.

It’s 20 minutes later that Neil finally drops his fork onto the plate with a loud clunk and moves from the dining room towards the living room in big thundering steps. There’s a certain aura about his dad, Billy thinks, it’s been there ever since he can remember. He’s not excessively tall or burly but there’s something about him that demands respect. He’s mean and he doesn’t leave any doubts about it.

Billy’s always felt this way about his dad. He knows that isn’t how it should be but it is and he’s come to terms with it a while ago.

“ Hey, Susan ? “ Billy asks as she hurries around the kitchen collecting the dishes. It’s then Billy realizes that Neil never puts his plates in the sink. Never. And, until recently, Billy didn’t either. Living with (Y/N) has changed him. It’s little things she expects from him that seep into his everyday life. He cleans up his messes. People should just clean up their own fucking messes.

“ I uh — yes, Billy ? “

Susan regards him with this look in her eyes that makes a jolt surge through his system right to his bones. It shivers him because he’s seen it so many times only it’s usually when she looks at Neil. It’s laced with fear. The fear of doing something wrong. Of messing up. Of having to face the consequences.

Susan is scared of him and he hates this. Sure he’s been mean to her before and obviously she’s not his favorite person. That doesn’t mean he wants her to fear him. He’s not his father and he never ever wants anyone to mistake him for being even slightly similar to Neil. Especially not someone who has to suffer under the aforementioned.

“ Um, well. Earlier when you talked about your friend at the bakery looking for people to hire, did you mean that or was it just a — “

“ You listened ! “ It’s not accusatory but it’s something. Surprise mostly. Shock. Gratitude.

“ Uh yeah. “

I always listen. He wants to say. He doesn’t though. That only asks for unnecessary conversation he doesn't want to have. Not with Susan at least.

“ Well, yes. She’s looking for help. Why ? Did you get fired ? “

He wants to be angry, his entire system tells him to be. Of course that’s where her thoughts go immediately. Billy fucked up again. Billy’s got fired.

He wants to be angry but really, he’s so used to it by now. He just takes it and moves on. What the hell does Susan know anyway.

“ No. My friend (Y/N) did. She’s been working at a diner for quite a long time but it belongs to her ex boyfriends parents and he’s an asshole and so are his parents so they kicked her out and I — I kinda feel like it’s because they don’t like the fact that she’s my — friend. So I feel responsible and I was thinking since your friend needs someone and (Y/N) needs a job maybe you could, I don’t know, put in a good word. She’s sweet and dedicated and she makes great pies. “

Susan says nothing for a while, just looks at him as if trying to find something in his face, his eyes. She seems to find it eventually because a smile pulls at the corner of her lips. It would seem almost motherly if it didn’t come from Susan.

“ Of course I can do that. Of course. (Y/N), she’s the girl you’re going to California with. Right ? “

It should come as no surprise to Billy, the fact that Susan listens too. In the same way he does. Susan too is caught in a house where everything and anything can be used against you. Where listening is essential to your survival.

“ Yeah, she is. She’s uh — she’s my girlfriend. “

“ That’s wonderful. Look, Billy. I know that your dad isn’t convinced about you going to see your mom but I think it’s a good idea. I think it’s something you should be doing for yourself. “

It’s nice. The sentiment. In fact, it’s good to know someone in this house is on his side in this debate. The fact is though, that Susan would never repeat those words in Neil’s presence. Never. She’s got the backbone of a jellyfish.

“ Thanks, Susan. “

“ I’ll talk to Colette first thing in the morning. If (Y/N) is as sweet and dedicated as you say, I don’t think there’s any reason not to hire her. “

That’s all he wants really. He can just imagine his girl in a cute little apron, making pies and serving coffee. Can imagine cuddling into her after they’re both home from work and burying his face into her hair that smells like freshly baked bread and warmth.

It’s a stupid little fantasy but it’s so dometic and homely and it’s all he wants, really.

“ I appreciate it. “

He really does. Susan has no reason to help him, to help (Y/N). She does anyway. And if it is because she actually cares or because it’s a way for her to try and easy her guilty conscience, it doesn’t matter in this moment.

Billy takes a can of beer from the fridge and is about to move towards his room, when Susan speaks up again.

“ Billy. I’m glad you came to me about this. I — I want us to be able to talk about stuff. I want to to confide in me. To trust me. We’re family. “

He doesn’t trust her. He will never fully trust her. Not even if she’s part of his family. Family don’t mean shit in this household anyway, does it ?! Billy will never truly trust this woman, no matter how nice she’s being right now. This is the same woman that stands by and watches when Neil unleashes his wrath on Billy. The same woman putting up with it every day. The same woman who knowingly and willingly brought her own daughter into this environment.

He doesn’t say any of this though, just nods and moves on. He thinks she knows it anyway.

Through the windows of the bakery, a golden glow shines out into the dark Hawins’ evening. There’s a window decal telling people that this is Colette’s bakery and it’s selling homemade baked goods.

Billy catches a glimpse of (Y/N) standing behind the counter, slightly swaying to the music that is undoubtedly playing in the background. There’s a smile on her face. One of those rare, unbothered smiles that come when she’s effortlessly happy. He’s glad to see her smile again. Glad to know her first day here is going well.

As he enters the shop, the smell of pies and cakes and warm croissants hit him. It smells homely and comfortable and he can’t wait to try a piece of cherry pie.

“ Hey baby. Come sit down, I’m about to close the shop for tonight. Let me give you a piece of pie real quick. “

She serves him with a smile, wipes the counters with a smile. It’s like it’s permanently etched there. Billy almost forgets to eat, he’s that transfixed by her. Just her. (Y/N) being her normal happy self.

Other people’s happiness is not something Billy cared about before he met (Y/N). But the world has shifted in weird un inexplicable ways. Maybe sometimes it just takes the right person to make a change in you. To make you want to change.

“ Hey, pretty boy ? “ (Y/N) approaches him after locking the front door, and softly takes his face in between her hands.

“ Hmm ? “

“ Thank you. For finding me this job. I have so much fun here. I genuinely love it. “

“ I’m glad you do. “

“ No, Billy. I don’t think you are aware just how thankful I am. If I didn’t get this job, the California trip really would’ve been on thin ice for me. I wasn’t sure I could actually afford to go. Now I definitely can. I am so excited. I can not wait. I can’t wait to see you happy. “

He doesn’t say the words out loud, mainly because it’s hard for him to admit it even to himself. But in order to be happy, Billy doesn’t need California anymore. All he needs is her.

That night he stays at her place and he cuddles into her on the couch and buries his face in her hair. She smells like freshly baked bread and warmth. And for the first time in his entire life, Billy thinks that if his forever looks like this very moment, he’s one happy guy.

taglist:

@babygal-babygal / @anxiousamandapanda / @imjusthereforsupernatural / @chhhcherybomb / @tomarisela / @noodlenerd101 / @xxcxrolinexx / @bippity-boppity-boopa / @mcrmarvelloki / @silver-winter-wolf / @thecrowclubsmanager / @theroyalbrownbarbie / @salemlysi / @asheseiler / @stra-vage/ @ssstutteringbbbill / @biliyonce / @addictofsupernatural / @angelophany / @charmed-asylum / @xxemoluverxx / @killer-queen-xo / @1lluminaticonfirmed / @rebel-broken-angel / @ayybtch / @dean-jace-doctor / @sarai-ibn-la-ahad / @amesishappy

#billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic

238 notes · View notes