#she doesn’t deserve that because she’s genuinely one of the kindest and caring people in this cast and most certainly the only one left | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

talesofstyles · 4 years ago

Text

Reconcile

happy christmas eve, you lot! i’ve got a little present for you. enjoy this 10,5k of nearly divorced harry trying to win his wife and bitter nine year old daughter back. oh and i threw in a little baby goat in the mix too since it’s set in the peak district and i just couldn’t resist 🥳

“Penny for your thoughts.”

He turned to look at her, who was giggling as she leaned closer to him. She was most definitely not a giggler sober, but he found out that a copious amount of alcohol could turn her into one. He felt slightly guilty knowing that she was going to be hungover as hell in the morning, but she was having a great time.

And so was he.

“I was just thinking about how great you are, how lucky I am to be sitting next to you right now and that you need to drink more water because otherwise, you’d be miserable tomorrow,” he says with a smile as he twisted the cap and handed her the bottle of water.

That goofy smile of hers turned into a gooey smile of affection. “That’s so sweet,” she murmured, taking a gulp of water and handed the bottle back to him so he could take some too. She then tilted her head, giving him a doe-eyed look and asked, “what else do you like about me?”

“Let’s see,” he put a finger to his chin and tapped. “Well, I love how kind and inclusive you are, how you always care about people and that you always see the good in everyone.”

Her smile grew sappier.

“Oh,” he gave her a sly grin. “I also love that thing you do with your tongue on the underside of my cock.”

She burst out laughing. But then she leaned even closer to him and whispered huskily in his ear, “I’ll do that very thing when we get back to the hotel.”

His eyes widened and he wanted nothing more than just to drag her back to their hotel suite and take up on her offer. But he’d promised her that he’d show her around Vegas since she’d never been before, and he wanted to keep that promise.

“Wanna know what I like about you?” She turned to him, still with a gooey smile on her face.

“Do I ever,” he smirked.

“I like that you’re hands down the kindest human I’ve ever met,” she began. “You’re genuine, and grounded. Funny too. I truly hit the jackpot with you. I’m the luckiest girl on earth.”

“Oh,” she added as an afterthought. “And you’re really good with your tongue.”

He wanted to laugh, because she always made him laugh. But he was still stuck on the fact that she thought she was lucky to be with him. He felt exactly the same way about her, like this was always meant to be.

“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted honestly. “I know it’s only been six weeks, but I really can’t imagine never having met you.”

“Me too,” her eyes were bright, shining with excitement. “It’s weird, right? Because I swear I’ve never felt such a deep connection with someone this quick.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” He murmured. “That there’s a perfect person for everyone out there?”

She tilted her head. “Do you think that’s us?”

There was no hesitation in his answer. “I do think that might be us.”

“I think so too,” she said with a tender smile.

This was real.

He was overwhelmed with the understanding that she was his, and he never wanted to let her go.

So he suggested what any sane, semi-drunk man would at that moment. “We’re in Vegas. We should get married.”

***

Harry

Pulling into the drive of what used to be our holiday cottage, but is now where my wife and children live full-time without me, feels strange to me. There’s that moment of what feels like a homecoming—that sense of belonging somewhere where I feel safe, and I know my happiness is inside.

But now, for the first time in ten years, there’s a sense of detachment that I know I’ve got to put in place. It is why I need to take a moment or two in the car before I walk inside to sort myself out and put on a shield. A shield which lets me walk inside, and be okay with the fact that I don’t live there anymore even just for the holidays.

This charming little cottage, which can’t exactly be called little since it is quite spacious and has three bedrooms, has always been more of a second home rather than a holiday home for us. We used to come here often, sometimes even only for the weekends. I’ve always loved this place. Now, looking back, I realised that many of the happiest times during our marriage were spent in this home.

It was where we spent the first few weeks soaking in newlywed bliss after that whirlwind of a trip to Las Vegas when we decided out of nowhere to tie the knot. Then there were the sleepless nights with a wailing newborn, because even though both of our babies were born in London, we always whisked them off here to Bakewell shortly after so we were close enough that both sets of their grandparents could dote on them during the first few weeks of their lives.

After I exit the car, I walk up to the front door and ring the doorbell. I don’t feel comfortable walking in as I respect that this is YN’s sanctuary now. The wait isn’t long, because in just a few seconds, the door is opened and there’s my wife, looking like a breath of fresh air.

It had been eight long months since the last time I saw her. Last time was the night when she asked me to leave our marital home, and I fled to LA first thing the next morning. I talked daily with the kids on the phone, but I didn’t really recall ever getting the chance to talk to her aside from the quick polite greetings before she handed her phone to the kids.

“Hey,” she says, her expression a bit guarded. I’ve missed her so much that it takes everything in me to keep myself from pulling her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. “Come in.”

“You alright?” I ask her as I follow her into the house. This may sound like I’m just making a small talk, but I’m not. I’m genuinely curious and I want to know how she’s doing.

But she doesn’t even respond to my question. All I get is a head-tilt motioning towards the kitchen. “They’re in the kitchen.”

My gaze immediately lands on the accent table that holds a lot of photos and a key bowl. I silently let out a sigh of relief seeing YN hasn’t removed all of the family photos with me in it. It’s a good sign, but I don’t have much hope behind that. Maybe that’s just her trying to keep everything as normal as possible at home for the kids.

My wife and I never had a big fight when we separated. It had been somewhat rational, but still emotional, discussion. She wasn’t angry, she was just done. And I didn’t fight for her. Instead, yours truly here walked away the next morning and didn’t look back.

I’ve done a lot of dumb things in my life. But nothing ever compares to that. That was pretty fucking stupid on my part, and I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

I’ve accepted that maybe this is my punishment for being a shit husband to a wonderful woman who doesn’t deserve to be treated like a second best. She did the right thing by kicking me to the curb, and I’d never resent her for it. If I could turn back time and change everything, I would in a heartbeat. I’d try harder to be a better husband, a better father, put my family first. But I can’t. Now all I can do is just try not to be a dickhead and make things harder for her than it already is. It’s too late for me to try to be a better husband, but it isn’t for me to try to be the best father that my children deserve.

I follow my wife through the living room and into the kitchen, and I’d be dead not to check out her arse in those leggings. It’s something I quickly avert my eyes from, though, as I realise both of my children are sitting at the kitchen island, eating scones with their tea.

George, my six-year-old, is the first to turn his head and hop off from the island stool to jump into my arms. “Daddeeeeee!”

“My Booger Butt,” I greet my little lad with a smile as I squat down to be on his level before scooping him up into my arms. Booger Butt is one of the countless nicknames I have for him, and one that never fails to make him double over in laughter whenever he hears it. He’s also Mr Tadpole Climbing a Beanpole sometimes, and he used to be Sir Screams-a-Lot when he was a baby. He thinks they’re hilarious, and he’d always respond by calling me Baddy Daddy.

“I‘ve missed you so much, Baddy Daddy,” he says sweetly as he nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck and I swear if I don’t pull myself together right this second, I’m going to cry.

“I’ve missed you more, mate,” I say as I ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

My daughter doesn’t seem fazed by the father and son reunion behind her and continues munching on her scone without even giving me a glance. With my left arm full of my son, I walk up to her and ruffle her hair just like I did with her little brother. “Hey Silly Putty Pudding Pie,” I greet her with one of her nicknames, hoping to get her to laugh. But she ignores me, taking a sip of her brew instead.

I don’t want to give up, so I lean to the side and bend to put my face close to hers. I try again, “hello to you too, poppet.”

“Whatever,” she mumbles around a mouthful of scone.

“Minnie,” YN growls, her tone filled with warning.

This is why I respect YN so much. I hurt her badly, broke her heart, and it would’ve been so easy for her to use Minnie as a pawn and turn my child against me. But every time, even on the phone, whenever she is present, she never let Minnie be disrespectful to me in any way.

My gaze moves to my wife—yes I’m still going to refer to her as my wife since she still is, albeit only on paper—and she gives me an apologetic look. I give a slight shake of my head, telling her silently to let it go.

She takes the last bite of her scone and puts the dish in the sink, before walking to the staircase without giving me a second glance. I can see YN trying to hold her tongue from further rebuking our daughter, and I give her a small smile, my silent way of telling her ‘it’s okay.’

“Sorry about that,” she mutters, referring to Minnie’s attitude. She grabs a mug from the cupboard, then holds it up in silent invitation. I nod, and she turns to the pot. “I can’t keep up with her mood shifts anymore.”

“It’s alright,” I tell her, willing to take my share of the blame. “I’m sure the shift has everything to do with me.”

“Not true,” she replies as she pours the coffee into our mugs, adding a splash of milk to hers but keeping mine just like that because she knows I take my coffee black. “She’s been like that with me as well and I’m not sure why. She’s only nine but she acts as if she’s thirteen already.”

I can’t help but laugh and turn to my little lad. “Can you be six forever?”

“No,” he says immediately without even taking a second to think.

“Just no?”

“No,” he gives me a toothy grin. “I want a lego city set but mummy said it’s for eight-year-olds. So I cannot wait to be eight.”

I set him on the counter and give him a conspiratorial smirk before I whisper to him. It’s a little too loud to be considered a whisper, but I want my wife to hear it. “Tell you what, we’ll get one of those sets tomorrow on our day out.”

His eyes light up instantly and my wife rolls her eyes jokingly, “I hear that.” Jokingly, because I know for sure she doesn’t mind me spoiling our children. She does it too.

“Where are you taking them tomorrow?”

“To your mum’s pudding shop for breakfast, then probably fishing, and the toys shop now apparently,” I tell her our itinerary. I have the kids for the whole day tomorrow since it’s Saturday. It’s bittersweet because I’ve missed my children and I can’t wait to spend time with them, but I’m also sad because what I wouldn’t give to turn tomorrow into a family day out instead. I know she would most likely decline, but I can’t help offer her, “would you like to come with us?”

She gives me a subtle shake of her head. “No thanks. Enjoy it, it’s your time with them.”

***

I’m renting a room above The Old Nags Head during my stay here. I plan to stay for a week before I have to go back to London, and even though the thought of having to leave my children again is killing me, I’m trying to cheer myself up by reminding myself that it’ll be Christmas soon enough and I’ll get to visit again.

But then I’ll have to leave again.

And visit again, but knowing in just a week or two, I would have to say goodbye to them again.

Fuck, this is killing me. I’m a family man through and through, and not being with them physically hurts. I shouldn’t be in this room sulking alone. I should be there in that home with my wife and children, probably helping Minnie and George with their homework or making dinner for all of us.

I was prepared to sulk some more, but then I heard a knock on the door. I was not expecting company so I’ve got no idea who it is, and I’m quite surprised when I see Jamie, YN’s brother as I open the door.

We were quite close, but now that I broke his little sister’s heart, I can’t tell if this is a pleasant visit or if he’s just here to knock me square on my arse.

“Got time for tea downstairs?” He asks

Honestly, I haven’t got any appetite. But I could use a few pints so I nod and lock the door behind me, following him downstairs to the pub.

The Old Nags Head is the oldest and most famous pub in Bakewell. The pub itself is a former smithy dating back to the 16th century, and certainly looks the part; thick stone walls, low ceilings, welcoming log fires and dark timber beams. The pub remains at the centre of the community, as it has been for hundreds of years. It offers the best classic pub grubs, and even has its own ale called the Nags 1577.

It’s the perfect place to drown my sorrows.

Except, the current owner of that very pub happens to be none other than my wife’s granddad whom everyone here calls Pop. Out of all members of her family, she is the closest to Pop, so I know for sure that I’m the last person he wants to see.

We sit at the bar table facing the window, which is good because Pop is behind the main bar, and this way I don’t have to actually talk to him.

“Ya want owt?” Jamie asks as he does a quick perusal of the menu. I’m not even sure why he bothers, because even I know what he’s going to order. It’s Pop’s signature steak and ale pie. Ten years of being his brother in law, not once I ever saw him order something else.

“Just a pint,” I tell him.

It doesn’t take long after Jamie orders his food and our drinks before two pints are placed before us, and we each take a savouring sip.

And then Jamie point-blank asks me, “so what did you do?”

I really can’t tell anything from his expression, because he keeps his face blank. But I give him a bark of mirthless laughter. “It’s what I didn’t do, mate. She didn’t say anything?”

“Not a word,” he shakes his head, “what didn’t you do?”

“I stopped paying attention to my wife. Got caught up in my career. The travelling for tours she understood, but it was when I was home and hanging out more with my bandmates than with my family that she couldn’t forgive. And what little time I had left, I gave to Minnie and George. I think I just stupidly assumed she would always be there for me, no matter what.”

“Was there any infidelity?” He asks.

“God, no,” I shake my head hard. “You know I’d never do that to your sister. I love her, and she’s more than enough for me.”

Obviously, I’m not going to tell him this, but ironically, our sex life didn’t diminish. We were combustible in bed, and my mistake was in thinking that was enough for her.

I look at the pudding shop right across the street as I take another sip, and I nearly choke on my beer when I see a familiar face walking out of the shop.

“What in the ever-loving fuck?” I growl.

That’s my wife, walking out of her mum’s pudding shop. She is not alone. There’s a guy with his hand pressed to her lower back while her head is tipped back, laughing at something he’s saying. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach when the bastard’s palm drops from my wife’s back to take her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She smiles, all doe-eyed, as they walk to God knows where.

“What?” Jamie looks at me confused for a second, but then he follows my gaze and he finally sees what’s causing me distress. “Oh, that.”

“You knew about that?”

He nods. “She’s been seeing him for about three weeks now.”

“Fuck,” I mutter and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“She didn’t tell you?” Jamie asks and I shake my head.

“Three weeks you said?”

Jamie nods again. “He makes her happy.”

“I’m her husband,” I can’t help but say bitterly. “I should be the one making her happy.”

“Look, I’m sorry mate,” he offers, I know he’s trying his best to keep his tone neutral. “Maybe you need to get back in the dating game too. It’ll distract you.”

“I don’t want to fucking date anyone else,” I growl.

“I know it’s hard to get back in the saddle,” he adds sympathetically.

“I don’t want to get out of my current saddle,” I grumble. “I want to keep my current saddle with my wife in it.”

Jamie blinks in surprise, hell I’m even surprised at what I’ve just said out loud because I’ve never admitted this since we split. When YN asked me to leave, I assumed right away that my marriage was over. I didn’t want it to, but I thought there was nothing I could do.

But now, seeing her laughing at another man’s joke and his hand holding hers, I just know that I can’t let her go without a fight.

“Have you told her this?” He asks curiously.

I shake my head again. “We haven’t got the chance to have a civil conversation these days.”

“Then I suggest you stop being such a bloody whinge bucket and have a civil conversation with your wife.”

My shoulders immediately sag in defeat. “I know. I need to sit down with her and tell her how I feel.”

“Which is?” He presses.

“That I want her back,” I mutter.

“You’ve got to have a better plan than that,” he points out. “I mean… I’m not a marriage therapist, but I’m pretty sure that you’ve got to be prepared to fix the shit first.”

I can’t help but tilt my head towards the pudding shop where my wife had just walked out the door. “She’s moved on. You said it yourself that he makes her happy. Tell me how to compete with that.”

“Make her happier,” he says simply. I can only let out a heavy sigh, but I know that's solid advice. “Listen, if you really want to save your marriage, you need to make it work. Romance her again. Lots of flowers, nice romantic dinners out. Compliments, chocolates. All that sort of thing.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “But I do know that you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t do anything about it.”

***

My emotions are a mixed bag this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to spend the whole day with my kids, but the fact that I have just learnt last night that my wife is currently seeing another man doesn’t sit right with me.

I know Jamie was right. If I want to save my marriage, I need to get my head out of my arse and do something to win my wife back. Sure, I don’t even know where to start since she doesn’t give me the time of day. But I do know that starting today, I’m a man on a mission. It’s Operation Conquer YN: day 1.

It’s currently 8:40am, which means I’m twenty minutes early. I hope the kids won’t be ready yet, so I’ll get a chance to talk for a little bit to my wife.

When I ring the doorbell, I can hear George pounding down the stairs, yelling, “I got it!”

The door flies open and he jumps into my arms right away. My little lad truly misses me, and it really does warm my heart. Now, I love my children equally, but before I got here yesterday, I thought Minnie would be the one to jump all over me since she’s a daddy’s girl through and through, while George has always been a mummy’s boy since the day he was born.

But again, I should’ve known. Since YN and I split, Minnie sort of puts herself in her mum’s corner. Every time I actually got the chance to talk to her on the phone when I was still in LA, it was always extremely short before she quickly handed her mum’s phone to her little brother. I try not to take her behaviour to heart, because I guess it’s what nine-year-olds do when they don’t quite understand why their parents aren’t together. They just need someone to blame, and my daughter is way more mature than her age. She’s bloody smart too, which she definitely takes after her mum, and I know that she knows it’s my fault that her mum and I separated.

Now that I think of it, it’s not just my wife that I desperately need to win back. But also my daughter.

“Daddy!” George chirps. He’s got a milk moustache and the sight never fails to get me to chuckle. “You’re early.”

“I know,” I reply with a tender smile. “I just can’t wait to spend the day with you lot.”

“I’m going to get ready!” He announces excitedly as he squirms in my arms wanting to be put down, and he runs up the stairs before I can even reply.

I look around, and my gaze lands on the sofa, a hazel leather sofa that YN picked out. It’s so comfy and I could nap there forever.

Then there’s the coffee table, where YN, Minnie, George and I sat around and played board games. Catan is our family’s favourite, followed closely by Monopoly.

The corner where we always put the Christmas tree, right next to the fireplace. And every year it didn’t matter how hard I tried, I could never get the bloody thing to stay straight.

I miss this little cottage. Sure, the house in South Kensington is our marital house, but this cosy little cottage in the middle of nowhere feels more like home to me. And now I truly get why YN was so adamant to move here permanently after we separated, didn't matter how hard I tried to persuade her to stay in London.

“You’re early,” my wife blinks in surprise, but quickly masks it. “Minnie darling, go and get ready.”

“Do I really have to go?” My nine-year-old whines and I feel a pang. She really doesn’t want to spend time with me.

“Minnie, that’s not nice,” YN reprimands her before I can stop her.

“I’ve missed you, poppet,” I say, wanting to look at her in the eyes but she refuses to meet my gaze. Which hurts, but it’s fine. I know it’ll take some time for her to warm up to me. “I want to spend the day with you and your brother. I promise I’ll try to make it fun for you both.”

“Fine,” she replies, before marching up the stairs to her room. There’s still a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but at least I didn’t get a heavy sigh. I know it’s a small win but honestly, it’s better than none.

“Coffee’s in the pot,” she tells me politely from where she’s sitting at the island. She has her laptop open before her, and I can see her writing an email. I bet she’s working today, even if it’s Saturday, because my wife is such a hard-worker. She works remotely for a consulting firm and I’m beyond proud of her.

I nod and pour the coffee, and I let the silence carry on for a bit before saying, “saw you getting cosy with your new boyfriend last night.”

She instantly looks up from her laptop, giving me a death glare. Her tone is defensive when she says, “that’s none of your business.”

“You could’ve at least told me that you were seeing someone,” I tell her, making elaborate gestures with my coffee mug.

“Why would I do that?” She retorts defensively. “Last time I checked, you didn’t give a shit about me when we were married. Why on earth would I assume you do now?”

Hearing that, it feels like Chuck Norris himself just kicked me in the nuts. I can only mutter, “we’re still married.”

“Not for long,” she replies faintly.

“Don’t say that,” I say, my breath a little jagged. “We can still fix this, darling. I know we can.”

“Are you mad?” She snaps, but then she takes a deep breath, and her tone is a lot calmer when she adds, “Harry, it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. It’s never too late to get our marriage back on track,” I plead desperately. “Would you at least give me a shot?”

“What do you mean?” She frowns.

“You can continue to see Mr Wife-stealer-”

“He’s not a wife-stealer,” she snaps, cutting me off. “He’s got a name.”

“Well, he’s stealing my wife,” I grumble like a stroppy child.

“You’re being such a child,” she retorts. “His name is Luke, he’s a decent guy, and he makes me happy.”

“I’m not afraid to go head to head with him,” I say defiantly.

“Fuck’s sake, Harry, we’re not on a bloody Love Island,” she says in exasperation. “Two children are involved here, this isn’t a game.”

“I know it isn’t,” I reply with a sigh. “Just please give me another shot, darling. Let me remind you how great we were together.”

“You mean the sex?” She demands, one side of her upper lip curls in a sneer.

I bend my head and murmur, “we were dynamite in the sack, weren’t we?”

I see the flash in her eyes as she remembers, and it makes me want to beat my chest in victory. But the euphoric feeling is short-lived when she says, “a relationship is so much more than just sex. If you don’t understand it then-”

“I do, fuck, I do know that,” I cut her off in a strangled, desperate voice. “At least let me try, darling. Fuck if I’m letting you go without a fight.”

We lapse into silence as she gives me a sceptical look, and I know in this moment that my biggest challenge is to regain her trust, as well as accepting the fact that she has someone else fighting for her attention.

I know this will be tough, because I let her down over and over again. And worse, I let my children down too, because I was never quite able to make my family my highest priority. It was all my fault, I knew it then, still do now. That’s why when she asked me to leave, I couldn’t even argue. I was a shit husband and father, and I deserved that.

Trying to win Minnie is probably going to be the easiest because beneath this ‘tweenage’ attitude going on, I know she is a sweet girl who loves her daddy. I need to devote more attention to her, maybe take her on some daddy-daughter dates. I know it’ll work because I’ve never given her enough on a consistent basis.

YN is going to be the most difficult, because I really broke her heart. I’ve been married to her for ten years, so I can say with confidence that I know for sure she would never fall for things like flowers or gifts. I have to show her that I genuinely want to fix our marriage, and that my interest in her is real. It’ll be like starting all over again.

And on top of that, she’s seeing someone else and she said it herself that he does make her happy. I know she’s not lying about it, as Jamie also told me the same thing last night and I saw with my own eyes how she laughed with him last night. Seeing that killed me, because I don’t have the ability to make her laugh like that anymore, but I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that was happy for her.

She may have sneered when I insinuated I’d be glad to remind her of the good times, but I saw it in her eyes. There was still a slight burn, and that might just have to be my angle.

But then I remember our last time together. It was only two days before she asked me to leave and I remember coming home mid-morning after a meeting with my manager and publicist to find her lying in our bed, clad in sexy lingerie. I had my mouth on every inch of her, a good deal of time between her legs, and after she reciprocated by taking me into her mouth.

The kids were in school, and apparently, she took a sick day because I had told her the night before that I only had one meeting in the morning that day. After, she cuddled in close, and we talked for a while. She seemed happy, but then there was a hint of hesitation in her voice when she suggested, “fancy just spending all day in bed until school pick-ups?”

I mean, what man in his right mind would say no to that? The kids were gone for at least another five hours, I had a gorgeous wife naked and wanting more of what we just did…

Yet, I’d said no. “Sorry, doll. I’m meeting the lads at the studio in about an hour.”

I didn’t see it then, but I do now and it’s clear as day. The look on her face had been blank, and there wasn’t even disappointment like she would usually show me. She hadn’t tried to get me to change my mind. There hadn’t been a guilt-laden frown to give me pause.

I realise now what it was.

It was the moment my wife finally gave up on me.

My chest constricts as it finally dawns on me the pain she must have been feeling. I’m not just talking about that day. That had been our life for several years.

No wonder she asked me to leave.

No wonder she’s moving on with Mr Wife-stealer.

No wonder that, at this moment, I realise I’ve got tons of work to do because sex isn’t going to be the answer in winning my wife back.

***

“Will the baby just eat when you give it the bottle?” Minnie asks her uncle Jamie as the four of us gaze at the baby goat in front of us. For the first time since yesterday, I actually see the slight curve up of lips that form a fond smile. Seeing that smile on my daughter’s face, I’m glad we didn’t go fishing and end up going to the barn instead. We were actually already on our way, but Jamie texted me that the mother goat had given birth this morning, and he wanted me to tell Minnie and George. The goats are a new addition to the farm, so they have been so excited to see baby goats. I knew from the look in their eyes that they would have a much better time seeing baby goats rather than fishing.

It turns out that there’s only one baby goat, because the other one sadly didn’t make it. And the dam isn’t producing milk, so the kid needs to be bottle-fed until the mother is producing again. I can’t help but smile fondly at the baby goat too because it’s adorable. It’s a soft little white goat with a pink nose and ears. The dam is a Pygmy but since it has blue eyes, Jamie thinks she must have Nigerian Dwarf genes somewhere in her.

“It’s a female… a doeling,” Jamie tells her. “And she will if she’s hungry. You want to try to feed her? Look, she’s hungry again.”

We watch for a moment as the baby goat walks on wobbly legs, bleating in hunger. Jamie mixes the powdered formula and makes a bottle for her, then he hands the bottle to Minnie.

But Minnie shakes her head. “Maybe next time. I want to see you do it first.”

“Alright then,” Jamie nods, then turns towards my little lad. “How about you, mate? Wanna feed her?”

“No thank you,” says George as he shakes his head, and then he giggles, “she smells funny.”

“Can I do it?” I ask and Jamie nods as he hands me the bottle.

I sit down against the wall with my children sitting on either side of me. And as if the goat can sense that I hold the key to filling her empty belly, the doeling starts to prance in excitement and falls over a few times due to what I assume is clumsiness. I love that she can walk normally but still choose chaos—honestly, she could’ve been my third child. There’s no stopping the surge of fondness that swells within me as I watch her little antics.

“Come here little crumpet,” I coo at the goat.

The little goat scrambles right onto my lap, bleating hungrily. I wrap my arm around her and tip the bottle. She latches on instantly, and Minnie and George are aww-ing and ooh-ing over the way the baby goat’s little tail swishes back and forth so fast in ecstatic happiness as she drinks her milk.

“You’re a hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Minnie murmurs and the little tail swishes faster as she pushes at the bottle to suck the milk down faster. “What’s her name, uncle Jamie?”

“I haven’t named her yet,” Jamie says. “What do you lot think we should call her?”

“Blue,” George suggests instantly, without looking away from the baby goat on my lap.

“Ooh, I like it,” Minnie adds. “Like her eyes.”

“Blue it is, then,” Jamie grins. “Now, even though the dam is still not producing milk, we still need to train her to at least try to nurse, so she’ll do it right away when the dam is finally producing milk. Let’s see if we can get her to try to eat from the dam.”

He plucks the baby from my arms, and a series of yearning bleats come from the kid as he carries her to her mother. He places her near the dam’s udders and gives the baby a gentle push.

Much to our surprise, Blue spins away from Jamie and her mother and runs back to me. Although in all fairness, I am holding the bottle she was just drinking from. Jamie attempts three more times to get the baby to try to nurse from her mother, but she’s having none of it.

Finally, he takes the bottle from me and walks across to the opposite wall. He sits down, holds the bottle out, and calls to the doeling. “Come here, baby. Come eat.”

Blue’s tail gives a few nervous twitches, but she doesn’t move towards Jamie. In fact, she takes a few hesitant steps backwards until she bumps into my legs. I’m amazed as I watch her stare hungrily at the bottle, bleating hungrily, but refusing to go to Jamie.

“Daddy, she thinks you’re her mummy,” says George and both my children burst in laughter.

“What?” I say in astonishment.

“I don’t think that doeling is going to feed from anyone but you,” Jamie adds with a chuckle as he stands up. He walks over and hands me the bottle. Blue jumps directly into my lap.

On autopilot, I offer the goat the nipple but look up to Jamie in panic. “What should we do?”

“Dunno, I’ll just try and do it when she’s hungry again in a few hours,” he shrugs. “But if she still doesn’t wanna eat, I’ll bring her to you.”

Any last vestiges of humour, happiness and downright giddiness over the cuteness of a baby goat fades as I realise I might or might not have just added another task to my list. Heavens help me.

***

“Let’s have a daddy and daughter date tomorrow.”

It’s a solid suggestion, and I really hope she’d say yes. Her little brother has his classmate’s birthday party to go to, so I know it’d be perfect for a little one-on-one time.

We’re on our way back home after spending a whole day together. It was great, and even though I didn’t have happy-go-lucky Minnie, George had a great time, and it was enough for me. And at least she didn’t ask to go home early, so I’d call that a win.

“No, thanks,” she replies. There’s still not a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but it doesn’t sound technically warm either.

I glance over through the rear-view mirror as she stares out the window with her arms folded. Her brother is sleeping next to her, and I figured this might be a good time to talk since she’s trapped in the car with me.

Everyone always says that Minnie is a mini-me, while George is a carbon-copy of his mum. Minnie has my nose, eyebrows, chin, even my smile; which is slightly lopsided and has a dimple on one side. I know I’m biased, but she truly is the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.

Where Minnie shines, though, is her personality, which is a combination of her mum and me. She has her mum’s sunny disposition—aside from the days where she’s got a bag on—and always sees the good in everyone. She’s our little ray of sunshine, tender and caring and always trying to make others feel good.

From me, she gets her stubbornness, which even though I know is a good trait to have when she’s older, it made things so much harder when she was a toddler. She also has my terrible sense of humour, but the thing I’m most proud of is her work ethic. I can’t take full credit for that though, because her mother is a hard worker as well.

Ever since she started distancing herself from me, I know which subjects are safe, and which are not. School always falls in the safe category, because she enjoys it and excels. So I figure now that’s where I should start. “How’s school going?”

“Alright,” she replies, still looking out the window.

Now, this really doesn’t sound at all like my daughter.

“Come on, Min,” I say desperately. “Tell daddy what’s been eating you. I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she says absently.

“Do you want to go and get some ice cream with me tomorrow?” That was our thing at least once every two weeks and she loved it.

“No, thank you.”

“Ice skating?”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh I know,” I say excitedly. “I’ve got a show in London in a couple of weeks, Jingle Ball. Do you want to come with me?”

Minnie has always been my biggest fan, clapping the hardest and yelling the loudest for her daddy. So it really takes me by surprise when she mutters, “shows, shows, shows… that’s all you care about, dad.”

I twist to peer out my window so she doesn’t see the wince that comes unbidden to my face if she looks through the mirror. That was a direct slam against me.

That really does hurt, and I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone.

“That’s not true,” I reply faintly.

“Did you care about my last ballet recital?”

Early this year, Minnie had a ballet recital. She was so excited about it because I had just finished my tour in December last year, and I’d already told my management that I would like a couple of months off. There was no reason for me not to attend, so I promised her I’d be there.

Except at the last moment, I realised I had forgot to switch an important meeting I had with the team from the new Manchester Arena. Since I invested in it, we had a meeting every few months because I said right from the beginning that I would take more than just a capital interest. I wanted to be involved in the development, because that was a huge project and I was really proud of it.

YN was in charge of our schedule and when she reminded me about the recital, which conflicted directly with my meeting, we ended up getting in the worst row we’ve ever had throughout our marriage.

“You’re going to let our daughter down in a way she won’t forgive,” she stated.

I refused to believe that, brushing off her comment with “I’ll take her out for something special later.” But my wife turned and stalked away from me.

That day, the meeting went great and the construction was almost done a few weeks earlier than intended, so there was an option if we wanted to open sooner. YN sent me a text with a video of Minnie’s performance, and it was beautiful. I was such a proud dad that I showed the video to everyone in that room.

When I got home, my wife and children cuddled on the sofa, watching a film. George was snoozing with his head on his mum’s lap on the far end, so I plopped myself down beside Minnie. I tugged on her hair playfully, and asked if she wanted to go out to a special daddy-daughter dinner to celebrate her recital.

“No, thank you,” she replied quietly, not taking her eyes off the telly.

“Come on, poppet,” I coaxed, trying to tickle her in the ribs a little. She only squirmed closer to her mum, not laughing from the tickle but grimacing like she didn’t want to be touched.

YN stared over Minnie with sorrow in her eyes. She gave a tiny shake of her head, but I wasn’t ready to give up.

“The Ivy?” I tried to tempt her because my kid loves chips, and she’s obsessed with their truffle and parmesan chips.

“No, thank you,” she muttered again, her head resting on her mum’s shoulder and her arm crossed over her middle. YN cuddled her with an arm around her shoulder. It had been clear that they were a unit, and I hadn’t been included.

“Minnie decided she wants to stop ballet lessons, so that was her last recital.”

“Oh,” I’d replied dumbly.

I couldn’t think of another damn thing to say because to do so would be disingenuous. There’s no doubt I killed my daughter’s potential love of ballet by not coming to her recital. I knew that because of YN’s expression of disappointment and Minnie’s dull dismissal.

Later that night, I walked by Minnie’s room and glanced in as the door was slightly open. I had bought her a bouquet of flowers that I gave her before I left for my meeting, and I saw that they’d been stuffed into the bin beside her desk.

I blink out of that memory, feeling the heavy weight of guilt. “Of course I did, my love. If I knew-”

“But not enough to come,” she replies dully. “And what about my debate competition? George’s piano recital? You showed up to none of them.”

I sigh heavily. “Minnie, a lot of parents have demanding jobs where they’re required to work or travel more than others. Sometimes A&E doctors have to work on Christmas and cannot see their children open the presents. Sometimes, a firefighter has to leave their house at night and can’t tuck their kids in bed.”

“I understand that,” she whirls and looks at me through the rear-view mirror. “Except you’re not saving lives or fighting fires, are you? You just get up on a stage and sing.”

“I’m a terrible dad, aren’t I?” I concede. “I know I’ve done things wrong in the past, but I’m trying to make it up to you, poppet. But I can’t do it if you won’t let me.”

She doesn’t say anything and it’s killing me. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” she rushes to assure me and I feel a little lighter. My daughter may act like a tween and have some bitter feelings towards me, but she loves me.

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” I continue. “Tell me how to make it up to you and I’ll do it. I want things to be good between us again.”

Her eyes flare with shock, and then they dart away as if she’s considering something. I wait expectantly. Maybe she’s going to finally open up and pour out her feelings for me. I’m ready for it.

I’m ready to listen, and validate, and reassure her that she, along with her mum and brother, are the loves of my life.

Her gaze comes back to me, her expression serious, and I brace.

“Can we get a puppy?”

What?

There’s no stopping the unlocking of my jaw and the dropping of my mouth because this was the last thing I expected her to say.

I’m so caught off guard that I can’t even think to immediately tell her ‘no’, which gives her time to launch into all the reasons why we should have a dog.

“Minnie, puppies are a lot of work. You’ve got to potty train them, teach them manners, and they get up for hours at night.”

“I promise I’ll do all that,” she exclaims.

“Like how you were supposed to take care of Fishy?” I can’t help but remind her. Fishy was her goldfish that we had to throw a funeral for a few years ago because she forgot to feed him. That poor sod died of hunger.

Minnie rolls her eyes. “I was six.”

She’s got a point.

Still, it’s obvious part of her request is manipulation because she threw it at me when I opened myself up to vulnerability. She knows I’m trying, and she’s throwing me a clear bone.

Get her a puppy, and all will be forgiven.

“Tell you what,” I look over my shoulder after I parked the car since we’ve reached home. “I promise to think about it, and I’ll talk to mummy.”

“Really?” She bounces in her seat in excitement.

“We’ll talk about it,” I reiterate in a calm, even voice. But there’s no stopping her excitement. The fact that I’m willing to consider is a huge victory for her because she knows that when I make my mind up about something, I never change it.

I open the door for her, and she is quick to unbuckle herself and throws herself at me.

I’m so surprised at the spontaneous act of affection that I almost don’t hug her back. It’s been so long since she’s shown this to me, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

I squeeze her tight, and I can only hope that my darling girl will always love her daddy the way she does right now.

George doesn’t even stir as I pick him up, and I tuck him in his bed straight away since I don’t want to wake him up. He must be tired, and good thing I’ve fed them both dinner.

Minnie even gives me another hug before she gets ready for bed, and that results in me having a permanent smile on my face even as I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen to see my wife.

“She’s chirpy,” YN comments when she sees me walking into the kitchen. “What did you do?”

“Got her to talk to me,” I smirk.

She looks surprised, and well, I can’t blame her. “Did she?”

“She did,” I nod. “Pointed out all my flaws, and when I asked her how I could make it up to her, she asked for a puppy.”

“What?”

“Exactly my reaction,” I chuckle.

“Boy, if she’s this good at emotional blackmailing at nine, we’d probably be in deep shit in a couple of years,” she jokes and I can’t help but laugh.

I’ve missed this.

“Will you go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

“I can’t.”

“What? Got a hot date already?” I ask teasingly, but her silence tells me what I don’t want to know. “Oh, you’re going out with him.”

“Mr Wife- I mean Luke asked me out first and I already said yes.”

I shouldn’t be laughing because the fact that my wife going on a date with another man is not funny at all, but it’s hard to hide my smirk when she almost calls him by the nickname I’ve given him, Mr Wife-stealer.

“Well, fair enough. He asked you first,” I say nonchalantly. “What does he do?”

“He’s an A&E doctor at the Northern General,” she says, her tone lightens a little.

“Smart then isn’t he,” I mutter.

“Yes. He’s smart, attentive, caring and generous with his time.”

I keep my expression and tone bland, but she landed a direct blow there and it fucking hurts. “All the things I’m not,” I state, voicing the conclusion she was aiming at.

“Well,” she drawls with a tiny bit of sympathy. “I do think you’re smart.”

I give her a side eye-roll before I decide to be downright nosy and ask, “you can’t have been on many dates then?”

“True,” she chirps, a gleam in her eye as she sticks the knife in. “He is busy and his schedules are unpredictable. But when he’s gone, he makes sure I know I’m always on his mind. He sends me flowers for absolutely no reason other than because he wants to, calls me every day and we text all the time.”

Well, sodding fucking bollocking shit wank. I didn’t think YN would fall for that crap. And I realise… I never thought to do that stuff for her. I was the self-absorbed type of person who figured that my wife knew I thought about her all the time when I was away. I mean we were married, so I just assumed she knew.

I’m a shit head.

“What else does he do for you?” I ask and she blinks in surprise.

“Why?” She asks suspiciously.

“I told you I want our marriage to work.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, trying to read my tone and see whether I’m being genuine or it’s just bollocks. Finally, she replies primly, “I’m not giving away his secrets.”

What the fuck does that mean? Have they shagged? I would bet a million pounds they had not though, because I know YN and she wouldn’t enter into that deep of a relationship lightly.

Without even thinking twice, I make a sudden step into her. My arm goes around her waist and I pull her body into me. Not a single inch of space between us. Her mouth opens in a gasp of surprise, and I use the opportunity to kiss her.

I kiss the fuck out of my wife.

Her hands slap against my upper arms, and her fingers dig into my sleeves. Even as she’s pushing me away, her mouth opens, and her tongue touches mine briefly.

When I pull back, I ask, “did he kiss you like this?”

She shakes her head, breathlessly admitting, “we haven’t-”

My jaw drops. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not,” she murmurs.

“How long exactly have you been seeing him?”

“About four weeks.”

“Honey, he’s rooting for the other team,” I tell her and she slaps my arm.

“Sod off, he’s not,” she counters.

“Four weeks with the hottest, most gorgeous, shaggable woman and he hasn’t tried to kiss you? I mean not that I’m not grateful because, fuck, I am. But wow.”

“Of course he did try,” she rolls her eyes. “But I’m not ready for that, and he’s okay with us taking it slow.”

For a second I don’t say anything in response. Instead, I loosen my hold, bringing my hand to her lower back, and cupping her intimately from behind. Moaning, she leans into me. “I’m guessing he hasn’t touched you like this then.”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she lets her eyelids flutter closed as her teeth bite into her lower lip.

Fuck. I could drag her to the floor right now, and we could go at it.

But then she comes to her senses, blinking rapidly, and I release her immediately when she gives me a tiny shove backwards.

“You’re not playing fair,” she accuses.

Damn right I’m not. I grab her upper arms, pull her back into me for one last kiss before I let her go just as quickly. “I’m playing to win.”

She takes a step back, brushes a wisp of hair from her temple, and puts on a cool expression. “That’s not going to make me take you back.”

I smirk.

She waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re great with your hands and your mouth, but a lot of men know how to please a woman.”

She’s got a bonus point for trying to make me jealous, but I’m not falling for it. Instead, I give her a devilish smile and dip my head towards her.

“That’s true, but no one will ever please you the way I can.”

I’m enjoying our banter, and I expect her to come up with a snappy retort that might make me kiss her again.

Instead, her expression is sad when she says, “I wish I could be happy with that.”

My heart squeezes, and I lift a hand to palm the side of her neck. I wait until she meets my gaze. “We’re more than just sex, darling. I know you need and deserve more. I’m ready to prove that to you.”

I lean in, pressing my lips to her forehead.

She doesn’t respond as I pivot and head through the living room, letting myself out the door.

All in all, I think that went very well.

***

I’m back at my wife’s cottage, waiting for my kids as they get ready upstairs. Minnie has finally agreed to go on a daddy-daughter date and George is going to an overnight sleepover birthday party, and I’ll drop him off at his classmate’s house before I take his sister out to dinner. I’ll make sure to make it up to him by taking him on a special one on one date too next week.

There’s a light rap on the door, and my head swings that way. I have no doubt that it’s Mr Wife-stealer who’s going to take my wife out on a date.

I glance towards the master suite, but the door is closed. YN is probably putting on the finishing touches of her makeup. And the kids are still upstairs.

Nothing left to do but let him in.

Forcing a smile, I open the front door. He blinks in surprise to see me standing there, and I know I’ve got two options here; I could either easily dispel the awkwardness by being cool, welcoming and explaining our schedules happened to overlap.

Or… I could use whatever amount of alone time I have with him to instill some doubt inside his head.

That would be a dirty play, but as I have told my wife, I play to win.

Broadening my smile, I stick my hand out. “You must be Luke. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Harry.”

He seems momentarily frozen, but then basic manners take over. When he shakes my hand, it’s a bit limp, perhaps denoting a lack of confidence. After I release him, I bid him entrance with a sweep of my hand. “YN is in the bedroom. She’s still getting ready.”

Luke frowns over the fact that I know YN is in the bedroom. Probably over me even being here to talk to him. But I don’t dispel any innuendo he might glean from that.

I loop an arm around his shoulders, clamp down, and start guiding him to the kitchen. “Come on in and sit for a bit while she’s finishing up. Want a beer?”

Luke moves to one of the island stools, looking completely frazzled. “Uh… no, thank you.”

I shrug, moving to the fridge and opening it. Grabbing a bottle, I say with a sly grin as I close it. “So glad YN still stocks my favourite beer.”

I am so going to hell.

But that’s the truth. It’s my wife’s favourite beer, too, but I don't tell him that. Instead, I let the implication that I come over and have beers often. Luke’s frown deepens.

“YN tells me you work at the Northern General?” I take a sip of my beer, then lean my forearms on the island directly across from him so we’re eye level.

“Yeah… uh, that’s right.” Poor Luke. He seems incapable of carrying on a polite conversation with the husband of the woman he’s dating.

But I’m going to give him a pass. Setting my beer down, I straighten. “Let me go tell YN you’re here.”

“Um… you don’t have-” he starts to say, but I move past him without a backward glance. Through the living room, down the small hall, and a hard left takes me to the master suite. The door’s closed. I don’t bother knocking because I know YN is dressed.

I find her in the ensuite, her makeup drawer open and she’s huddled over it, touching something inside.

“Your date’s here,” I announce.

She lets out a yip of fright, shoving whatever it was in her hand to the back and slamming the drawer closed.

“Damn it, Harry,” she snaps, her palm pressed against her heart. “You scared the hell out of me. And what are you doing in my room?”

“Just running an errand for you. Wanted to let you know your date is here,” I say casually and I give her a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, I welcomed him in, offered him a drink, and made small talk.”

She rolls her eyes, rising from her vanity chair and moves past me without another word. I start to follow, but then I hesitate and turn back to the drawer of her vanity. Quietly, I pull it open as far as it will go, spotting a picture of YN and me stuffed in the back.

I recognise it. It’s from a trip we took to Anguilla a few years back, just the two of us, and fuck if we didn’t look happy and deeply in love.

Was that what she was looking at when I walked in?

That could be good or bad, but either way, no way to know the answer. I shut the drawer, then catch up to her as she’s moving through the living room. Luke sees her, sliding off the stool. When she holds out her hands, he takes them and leans in to kiss her on the cheek.

Lame.

I sit on the armrest of the sofa, watching. Luke glances over YN’s shoulder at me as he pulls back, smiling victoriously.

I just smirk back. Because he’d probably lose it if he knew the type of kiss I gave my wife just last night. But I’ll keep that information to myself, though.

YN grabs her handbag off the accent table near the staircase before addressing me. “Make sure Minnie locks up when you leave, and remind George I’ll pick him up at ten tomorrow morning.”

I give her a jaunty salute. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

In return, I get another eye roll.

Luke puts his hand on my wife’s back, shooting me a look that says, ‘she’s mine tonight’, and I want to punch his teeth down the back of his throat. I just smile blandly, because, in just a few minutes of talking to him and watching how they interact, I can tell he’s getting nothing more than a friendly kiss when he brings her home.

YN might want to keep pushing at that relationship, but I am willing to bet that it’s not going to go anywhere. I know this, because I’m sure that my wife is still in love with me.

Read part II here!

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #boyfriend!harry #husband!harry #dad!harry #dad harry styles #dad harry imagines #dad harry styles imagines

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phati-sari · 3 years ago

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Hi PS ... How is Arnav attracted toward khushi ???I mean khushi was traditional girl, doesn't know to speak English , her dressing , talking, thinking style is typical town type girl ... How is this possible ???

Hi!

Okay so ... I have over ten variations of this question in my inbox and I'm not sure whether it's multiple people asking or just one (very eager) person. The messages range from this one -- which is probably the kindest -- to ones that call Khushi names and imply she wasn't worthy of even looking at Mr Arnav Singh Raizada's Hermès shoes, and to ones that compare Khushi unfavourably to Lavanya.

Firstly, Arnav isn't classist in the way these questions imply. He throws around the terms 'middle-class' and 'gold-digger' because he knows they hurt Khushi, not because he genuinely thinks that money makes him a better person. He thinks his money makes him a more powerful person, and power is what matters to the outside world, but he's aware that money isn't an indication of character.

Secondly, he has two examples of marriage that he looks up to: Mama and Mami, and Anjali and Shyam. Both are between people of different classes -- Anjali married a mere lawyer (as she mentions to Aakash in Episode 31, the family cared more about whether he was a good person than whether he was from money) and Mama eloped with a servant. There is absolutely no indication that Arnav sees these pairings through any sort of negative lens because of a class difference.

Thirdly, Arnav is not attracted to Khushi because of outwardly traits like the way she speaks or dresses. He falls in love with her innocence, with the way she approaches life, and with what she brings into his own life -- including hope, forgiveness and healing. On top of that, Khushi fits into his family without even trying, in part because of the very things you’ve cited: the way she dresses, thinks, and speaks. She understands why his work is so important in a way that even Anjali doesn’t. Khushi challenges him when he needs to be challenged, isn’t afraid to speak her mind, and is intelligent in her own right. Arnav has a healthy respect for her knowledge and skills.

Fourthly, although Arnav said that he didn’t believe in love, the truth was that he didn’t think he deserved love. He thought he was too broken and had little to offer besides his money and status. He couldn’t imagine someone loving him for him, someone accepting all the darkness inside him when he couldn’t accept it. Enter Khushi, someone who seems too selfless and innocent for this world (so much so that he first assumes it’s all an act). At first, she seems to disagree with the very foundations of his life, and he notably he ends up justifying and explaining himself to her at every turn. Once she understands him, however, she accepts Arnav as he is and in turn, makes him want to be a better man. For all that these questions are asking “what does Arnav see in Khushi” in various ways, one has to understand that from Arnav’s point of view, the question is “What does Khushi see in me?”. In his mind, she’s entirely forbidden because he’d ruin her light with his darkness.

Lastly, the whole and entire point of this love story was to show that true fulfilment isn’t necessarily when you find someone who is equal to you in terms of education, class, and ambition. Arnav’s life, despite having a loving family, a successful business, a girlfriend who matched him in all aspects, and more money than he could spend in a lifetime, was empty. As the world becomes more and more materialistic, people are finding solace in things that cannot be quantified, cannot be bought and sold and ticked off on a list. The intangible things that Khushi brings to Arnav’s life are exactly the point of their love story.

Thanks for asking :) Given that I received this question almost daily for a few weeks, I’d like to remind folks that I need time to think about, draft, and edit answers. Sending questions in repeatedly doesn’t generate more hours in my day, it only pisses me off.

#ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #arshi #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #anon ask #answered #analysis

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lunarimagines · 4 years ago

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DATING ROSÉ

let’s get this out in the open first and foremost: Rosé is the most compassionate and understanding person you have literally ever met

when you first meet she’s quick to compliment you and it is so genuine

her eyes are bright and they have that little sparkle in them she gets when she’s happy as she’s telling you the simplest compliment like “oh your hairstyle suits your face so well! it’s beautiful!”

she’s very perceptive so she also compliments you on things she can tell or knows you’re insecure about

also, Rosé is totally one of those people who invites you to do things alone with her and also with her friends and when you hang out with her friends for the first time she introduces you to all of them and never disappears to leave you in uncomfortable silence

genuinely an angel

this girl… takes you everywhere

“oh I saw this cute shop the other day and thought of you, wanna go with me?”

“I saw they have a new restaurant opening up and I want to go with you”

it’s her way of flirting but also letting you know she cares about you

her flirting… so hard to determine from just her being nice

is she kind because she’s just LIKE THAT or does she LIKE like you??? you think she like you romantically but you also kind of want a second opinion

good news: she’ll tell you if you ask her

bad news: you have to get up the courage to ask her

unnamed news: Lisa is a great(?) sidekick

Lisa gives you the low-down on everything Rosé does when she flirts

the subtle arm touches and leg touches? flirting, obviously

but also the making food for you and taking you places she thinks you’ll like? also flirting

and you’re like yeah, Lisa, I’m not THAT blind

but??? uh??? you still haven’t talked to Rosé about it

she knows what she wants, but she also knows that she wants you to ask her out

so when you do she almost plants a kiss on you then and there

holding Rosé’s hand… you’ve made it in life

soft hands that also always smell nice

she LOVES when you bring her hand to your mouth to kiss and you love doing it not only because you love her, but also because you love how nice she smells

also her hair smells incredible

so when she’s not hugging you from behind or from the side, you get to bury your face in her hair

miss Rosé loves subtle couples items

rings, nail colors, coats, shoes, but mostly necklaces

she got you a couple necklace within the first three months of dating and you haven’t taken it off since

you’re no idiot

also, you could give Rosé a flower, a WEED, and she would press it in a book to keep forever

she treasures everything you give her, physical or otherwise

the two of you have fancy wine nights every saturday night where you buy a wine you’ve never tried before that is way more expensive than you would usually go for and pop it open while you’re watching a movie

movie marathons, by the way, are never dull with Rosé

she totally talks during movings, especially when they’re stressful or scary

she doesn’t realize it though because it’s so soft when she does it but you can hear the quiet, sweet voice from beside you

fall asleep on her or have her fall asleep on you, she doesn’t mind

she loves being the big spoon

plays with your hands and hair constantly

has a habit of tracing shapes and words on your palm

one day you realize she’s writing love over and over on your palm and you nearly combust

kissing Rosé never gets old

she loves when you kiss her on the nose

you HAVE kissed her teeth before because she always seems to smile right before you kiss

Rosé gives you kisses on your shoulder often

it’s a discreet way to be able to show affection for you regardless of circumstance

now listen….. Rosé is a big fan of lingerie

she ADORES wearing it

pink lacy numbers? Hell yeah babeyyyy

the first time you let it slip you loved her was when she came out of the bathroom in her soft pink lingerie with a slight blush on her cheeks and ears

it just sort of came out of your mouth

“you’re stunning… I love you so much”

she was quick to say she loved you back but she also has to give you shit for it

“what? no flowers? so romantic”

but it’s hard to take seriously because she’s straddling you when she says this

she also likes when you come to dance practices because sometimes she makes you so flustered and she knows either tonight is going to get rough or it’s going to be rough in the bathroom in about 20 minutes

but she always acts so innocent about it like “oh? did I do that?”

like ma’am???? who ELSE would have done this???

but all she says is “guess I need to take responsibility then”

she’s so sweet but she has her mean, teasing streak

the other girls also become your best friend so get ready to have the best fashion oh my god

Jennie got you a Chanel shirt for your birthday because, as she said, “anyone who’s dating Rosé deserves the best from us too”

Jisoo also gets you hooked on some of the games she plays because she wants another person to play with, much to Rosé’s amusement and dismay

“you’re playing games with Jisoo again? on a Friday night??? what, are you two dating now?”

and you’re like “no, but maybe I’m dating this game because it’s fucking me over”

Rosé is also the type to help you get through challenges and levels in the game, too

she makes it look so easy??? like doesn’t even save your face she’s just like “there, can we have our night together, just the two of us now?”

overall dating Rosé means you’re dating the kindest person in existence, and she never fails to remind you how important you are and how loved you are every single day

#blackpink reactions #blackpink scenarios #blackpink imagines #blackpink reader insert #rose reactions #rose scenarios #rose imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop reader insert #kpop smut #blackpink smut #rose #blackpink #kpop #myimagines

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catxsnow · 4 years ago

Text

CIRCUS FREAK D.G.

Request: okay so i was listening to rewrite the stars and got the idea where the reader is a socialite from a very wealthy family, and she fell for dick grayson but her family doesn't approve because he's not a real wayne/rich. so can i request that? thank you once again!!🥺❤️

Warning: swears, having really shitty parents

A/N: That gif just melts my heart every time I see it.

Word Count: 2k

Dick Grayson was an unexpected surprise in your life.

Your parents were the kind of people that expected you to marry a literal prince. They wanted you to continue the family legacy of money, power, and popularity. Generations of marrying important figures to keep the family name from being tainted. Your family took pride in their place in the world.

When they moved to Gotham, there was only one family that was going to be good enough for your parents: The Wayne's. Bruce Wayne was the richest person in the city - maybe even the entirety of the country. When you parents wiggled their way into his life and to his famous gala's, you were to be dragged along as well.

Your parents pointed out dozens of rich men, those who owned big businesses or were part of world affairs. They wanted you to talk to them, date them, and eventually marry one of them. It wasn't those snobby men that you were intrigued by. It was the man across the room with a genuine smile.

At the time you weren't aware that this was Bruce's oldest adopted son. He didn't seem like the rest. Dick wasn't trying to prove his worth by being there, in fact it almost seemed like he didn't want to be there at all. Behind his smile, you could see that he had places he'd rather be - but his kindness to others never faltered.

Out of all the people in that room, he was the only one that you wanted to talk to.

Dick felt your eyes on him. He looked up from the person he was having a conversation with and gazed at you from across the room. A smile lit up his face at the sight of how stunning you looked. He no longer cared about the man he was chatting with - he wanted to go talk to you instead.

That was how you met the love of your life. The second that he asked you to dance, you knew that you never wanted to let him go. You danced your heart away that night, twirling and spinning until your legs were ready to give out on you. Being with Dick... it was like floating in the stars.

You met with him again and again after that night. Every meet up seemed to last shorter than the previous, you never seemed to get enough time with him. There weren't enough hours in the day for you to be with Dick as much as you wanted to. He had cut down on his over time at work, even patrol to be with you.

He was in love.

You weren't like the rest of the snobby rich, young adults that attended these gala's. Unlike so many of these families that just wanted to make money, you wanted to make the world a better place. Dick respected that about you. While you were both trying to change the world in different ways, it seemed to bring you closer together.

Bruce knew who you were. He was aware of your parents and their appearance in Gotham. Thinking like a business man, he assumed that you were only interested in Dick for the money in his name. Upon meeting you, he could clearly see that wasn't the case at all. You were completely head over heels for him.

The issue arose when Dick was meant to meet your parents for the first time. Every man that you had brought home to them wasn't good enough. They drove him away until you were left heartbroken. As the son of Bruce Wayne, you assumed that they would approve of him. Even so, Dick was brave enough to stick around through your parents wrath.

Dick was dressed in his best suit. You were looped around his arm in your best clothes as well. The two of you stood outside the doors of the fanciest restaurant in the city. Your parents were already inside and waiting upon the two of you. Dick leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips.

"Stop worrying so much."

"Aren't I supposed to be telling you that?" You chuckled. Dick rolled his eyes and led you through the doors. Truth be told, he wasn't nervous. Throughout all his years, he had impressed every set of parents that he met. Yours couldn't be that different. "Just... don't think of me differently after today, okay?"

"I would never, my love," Dick assured. You switched from having your arm around his to intertwining your hands. The server led you towards the table your parents were sitting in. They looked to be in a good mood. Hopefully they would keep it up when you arrived with Dick.

Dick Grayson should have been nervous. After knowing you this past half a year, he didn't think that anyone related to you could be cruel. You were the kindest person that he had ever met, always worried about everyone around you before yourself. He assumed that it was your parents that raised you like that.

He was wrong, very wrong. Your parents seemed to be angered the second that you two sat down at the table. Dick was on his best behavior. He made sure to give the biggest smile, shook their hands, and referred to them with the utmost respect. It didn't seem to matter, the second they laid eyes on him they weren't impressed.

When you told your mother that you were bringing a Wayne to dinner, they assumed you meant a real Wayne - not an adopted one. Bruce was far too old for you, Damian far too young. Tim was the one that they were expecting, even if he was considerably younger than you as well. Even if he wasn't a real Wayne, he was the one to run WE.

Dick Grayson was nothing but a circus freak.

A boy who was born from poor parents and grew up in the circus. He was the exact opposite of what your parents wanted of you. Even with being adopted by Bruce, it wasn't enough for them. You were tired of pleasing your parents. Dick was the love of your life, you knew it in less than a year of being with him.

"You're lucky Bruce Wayne adopted you. I suppose living in a circus you had no where to go but up," Your mother spoke. She sipped her wine, acting as if what she had said was a compliment. Dick's eyes widened in shock but he remained quiet.

"You're not a real Wayne, though, right? Like Bruce's inheritance isn't going to go to you, it'll go to his youngest, the blood son?" Your father pitched in. "(Y/N) are you sure you want this one? What about the other, the one running Bruce's company - at least he has something going for him."

"That's enough!" You raised your voice. Your parents were not-so-subtle about their dislike towards Dick. They shamed his upbringing, saying that he was lucky to be taken in by Bruce rather than continue his life in the circus. Though you knew their words hurt him, he stayed calm throughout the matter.

You on the other hand, couldn't hear anymore of it. "Who the fuck do you think you are to say those things? Huh? You're nothing but snobbish pricks who only want me to marry for money! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of seeing you on your high fucking horse thinking you're better than everyone!

"I'm ashamed to call you my parents. You don't care about Gotham or your own daughter! You only care about yourselves and money. Have fun being fucking miserable, I'm not putting up with your shit any longer. Never again."

The restaurant had gone silent. All eye were on your table, listening in to the scene that you were causing. Your parents sat there in shock. you had never showed any signs of aggression like that before. Not once in your life had you went against them so fiercely and so publicly. Unfortunately, they blamed this attitude on Dick.

Before they could say anything about your outburst, you grabbed Dick's hand and nearly dragged him out of the restaurant. You were beyond angry. So full of rage, humiliation, even guilt. You so desperately wanted this dinner to go well and it had gone anything but. Dick finally stopped you from racing back towards his car.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as he looked down to you. Without hesitating, he pulled you into a much needed hug. You sobbed into his chest, your heart aching for the words that your parents said to him. He didn't deserve that, any of it. Dick was too polite to stand up against strangers like that - especially when they were your parents.

"I'm sorry," You whispered. Dick kissed the top of your head before wiping away your tears. When you asked him not to judge you for your parents, he never thought you would mean to this extreme. Still, he kept with his promise. You weren't your parents, you were nothing like them.

"Don't be," Dick assured. He had gone through far worse things than some angry parents. He got broken, battered, and bruised every week - a few hurtful words shouldn't have fazed him. But seeing you so upset because you cared this deeply about him? That broke his heart far more than what your parents said about him.

"My parents are horrible people. They've always only cared about keeping the family name as an important figure. I've pretty much would be stuck in an arranged marriage if they got what they wanted," You squeezed your eyes shut, remembering the hurt looks on Dick's face as they spoke poorly about him.

Dick didn't know what to say. To be honest, he was still in shock over the events that had just happened between you and your parents. Firstly with how horrible they were, and secondly, how quick you were to stand up for him. You had only known him for six months and you were willing to throw away your relationship with you parents for him.

Realizing just how committed you were to this relationship sparked something in him. He knew that he loved you, and even if it was a relatively short time together with you, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Dick was completely and utterly in love with you.

"You're not a freak, Dick," you continued as he didn't speak. Without him saying what was on his mind you were left to believe that he was thinking the worst. He no longer wanted to be with, he didn't love you anymore. It broke you to think like that, you would do anything to change it. "You're not a Wayne, you're a Grayson. A Flying Grayson, that's the man that I love."

"I love you," Dick finally spoke his mind. Relief flooded you; that was what you wanted to hear. "You aren't your parents, I see that more than ever now. Just like how I'm not Bruce. We're meant to be our own people, to live and grow and discover who we really are. Right now, I know that I'm meant to grow with you."

"You make me a better person every day, Dick Grayson," You smiled up at him. Dick pulled you closer by your hips and lowered his lips to yours. He didn't care about the random people walking by you or the sound of car horns in the background, you were all that mattered.

It didn't matter if you parents didn't approve of him. He had your heart, and you hoped that he never let it go.

#dickgrayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #nightwing #nightwing imagine #nightwing oneshot #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam imagine #batfam one shot #dc imagine #dc one shot #dc #fluff #angst #fanfic #fic

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namjoonswifey99 · 4 years ago

Text

What The Heart Wants Pt.3

Billy Hargrove X Reader

Warnings : Profanity Harassment Gets a little steamy

Author Note: I know I’m a little behind but I'm here please remind this is all fanfic i don't own anything but the plot thank you.

Nancy couldn't believe what she heard and what she saw. Billy just basically cussed her out and Y/N allowed it. Nancy couldn't believe what just happened she would've never thought. By the time Nancy came out of her mind everybody was leaving to go back to class Nancy being she decided to see if she could talk to Y/N one more time before the day was over.

Meanwhile Y/N was just trying to get through the day to go home. Y/N expected to have the little minions over later. Y/N loved them and they loved her. They even told her about eleven powers and the whole thing that happened with Billy ( Even though Y/N herself knew already). While Y/N was spaced out, Billy was admiring her beauty. No matter how many times he tells himself to stop he doesn't he just hope he can have her by his side forever. Billy was about to ask her if he wanted her to take him home when Nancy interrupted.

“ Y/N can you please just listen to me for one second please” Nancy was pleading with Y/N at this point.

“ GOD what is it Nancy what do you want from me you already don't like my friendship with Billy and frankly i don't care anymore i had your back more than anybody at this school and what do you do you judge HIM and ME for what when you DATED Steve did i judge you NO i stood by you when EVERYBODY was talking shit about you behind your back I stood up for you no one else but when i befriend the new “bad boy” all of sudden its a problem for you well guess what Nancy you can suck it .” Y/N stated while standing up. She was tired of Nancy and other people talking bad about Billy, especially what he went through.

“ Y/N that's why all day I've been trying to apologize even though you value his friendship more than ours it hurts but i understand i get it the rush the reputation”. Nancy said trying to apologize but doing the worst at it.

“ Nancy, I'd advise you right now to shut your mouth before there won't be a friendship.” Y/N said speaking a little too calmly for Billy nerves.

Billy took this time to interject before things get out of hand. He didn't want Y/N fighting, nobody or arguing with anybody.

“ Alright i think it's time for us to be going come one Y/N '' Billy says grabbing Y/N stuff so they can head out to the car to go home.

“ No Billy you stay out of it, I'm trying to make things right with my friend. “ Nancy said with much attitude in her voice.

“Listen here princess, I'm saving your friendship right now so I really advise you to try to talk to her another time “. Billy said trying to diffuse the situation.

“ No I'm tired of getting told no so your gonna sit here and listen i don't care “ Nancy says putting her hands on her hips.

“ Not really princess but good try though “ Billy says pushing her out the way to exit the classroom.

While putting his arms around her shoulders to guide her out the classroom whispering to her to ignore Nancy. Y/N was really trying her best not to really blow up on Nancy and Y/N didn't want to do that because deep down she still want her as friend she just wish she accept Billy because if she don’t Y/N gonna have to let her go.

“ Y/N its okay to walk away from him no matter how good the sex is its not worth it Y/N he’s Not worth it “ Nancy said while yelling to the duo in front of the school. That means the whole school just heard what Nancy said.

All you can hear crickets everybody just knew that what Nancy said just said was out of line and wrong.

“ Excuse me …… Want to repeat that princess”. Billy said slowly turning around he dropped her backpack on the ground while walking towards Nancy.

Everybody was holding on to their breath to see what Billy was about to do. While everybody was looking at Billy, Y/N was trying to still process what Nancy said. Steve and Jonathan was rushing through the crowds to get in front of Billy to make sure he won't harm Nancy.

“ First and foremost i will never take advantage of Y/N like that we have a genuine friendship something you don't know about i cherish Y/N it makes me mad that you her friend will ever say anything like that” Billy said while staring down at Nancy.

Billy looked so angry so furious nobody ever saw him look like that. Billy looked at Nancy like she was the scum on the earth. He was about to continue but Steve and Jonathan got in front of him.

“ Come on man she's just a girl if you want to fight someone, fight me” Steve said while holding his hands up in the air.

“ Man, I'm not about to touch her. I will never put my hands on a female but I will defend mines and especially Y/N honor no matter who it is.” Billy said while looking at them menacingly.

“ Billy lets just go she’s not worth it please….. Please” Y/N said while drying her tears.

Billy looked enraged when he turned around to see Y/N crying the sight broke his heart. He immediately went to her and brought her into his chest wrapping his arms around her head and waist. He turned his head and mouthed to Nancy for her to leave Y/N alone.

Billy then picked Y/N up bridal style and walked her to the car. Once inside the car Billy took off down the road. After a while Billy pulled to the side of the road just a few houses down from Y/N house. Billy looked to the side of the car door to get some tissues for Y/N. He put the car in park then cut the engine. Billy then grabbed her face and wiped her tears with his thumb.

“ Don't let them see you down Y/N she doesn't deserve you or your kindest is too precious.” Billy said while rubbing her cheek lovingly he looked at her with nothing but love. Y/N was staring at Billy's ocean blue eyes and something just clicked in her head she was in love with Billy.

While staring at each other they kept getting closer and closer together mid way into connecting they closed their eyes before finally their lips connected into a seering warm kiss.

Please let me know if you like this part. I will greatly appreciate the feedback please let me know if you want part 4.

#billy hargove x reader #billy hargove imagine #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #woc reader

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koishua · 3 years ago

Note

First impressions of your moots vs impression now

part one, because i have another same ask <3

𝘽𝘼𝙍

@yyxgin was always someone i had admired from afar, seeing how immaculate her writing skills and her entire essence was as an online persona. like, oof- she was amazing and so bright!! now, we have evolved from being a fan and idol relationship to being a mother and daughter one lmao pls keep taking care of me <3 she is genuinely such a kind soul and very easy to get along with!

𝙕𝙀𝙏𝘼

@whiteprincessofnohr think we first met through a mutual chat group for a friend group. she was a mutual of my mutuals and i went through her super cool make a wish themed blog and thought she was such a cool and badass person. now, she is one of the people i interact with the most often and i love talking her! she doesn't intimidate me one bit and I'd fight anyone who says so /j

𝘽𝙄𝘽𝙄

@imkyunies was also a mutual of my mutual and i think she first introduced herself to me on my blog through an ask. she was extremely sweet and friendly and i was in awe, because she is studying medicine and working in the field as well and that's still super cool for me. now, she is someone who always takes care of me like a motherly sister and i love her so much :(

𝙇𝙄𝙉

@oifelixcmerebrou and i go back way earlier than 90% of my mutuals haha. i don't exactly remember how we became friends, but I'm so glad i did! she was such a cutie oml i adored her even while first getting to know her! she was, for a while, the only person i would talk to and rant about stuff on this site, kind of my saviour. i love her to death and even though we don't talk as much these days, she always has the softest, warmest place in my heart. she is such a fun and wild person and i would adopt her irl if i could. like, either I'm flying all the way to where she lives, or I'm buying plane tickets for her to come and be my actual sister >:( will protect her from anyone and anything that tries to hurt her even if I'm not right next to her.

𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙄𝘼

@fairyjunn angel that i really don't remember how we met :( she was always one of the kindest and sweetest person i have ever met here. a piece of our souls are just hanging up in the air, connected: my soulmate, basically. we shared so many things in common and i remember us freaking out about our exactly same taste in music ahhh good ol' times. today, she is still the same pure soul i remember her being all those months ago. she has given me so, so much love up till now and I'd be lost without her encouragements. I don't know how I'll ever repay her kindness.

𝙄𝙀

@nakamotocore ah yes, i think we bonded over badminton and how our mothers don't want us getting buff with martial arts bahaha. i came into her blog blindly when i saw her reccommended to me. im so glad i did, though! she was calm on the first few days i met her, but oh boy, she is a force to be reckoned with. good luck handling her wildness that we all live for.

𝙃𝙄𝘼

@mochiable don't know how i followed her, but she had the most calming of aesthetics and had an impressive masterlist. i didn't interact much with her until i ranted about some stuff and she came running to my help. she was a literal heavenly being descending upon a child in need :( she always listens to me and she is such a gift to everyone here, including me. i now see her as the fun older sister figure that i can talk about absolutely anything with, be it boys, entertaining interests, or mental health. she is also weak for this one man—

𝙆𝘼𝙄

@channoticedmeuwu she and i had tumblr's biggest showdown smh. first thing we do is pick on each other and fight in front of everyone bahaha it was super entertaining. after a while, we ventured out of the enemies area and more into a duo zone. we have established that the child is my cute little spitfire devil (trust me. she deserves this glorious title) and im her own mini angel <3 my precious kai :( i really cherish her so much. she is one of my oldest moots on this site and i love her to death. will POUNCE on her for a bear hug the moment we meet irl.

𝘼𝘽𝙃𝙄𝙀

@jaemotel oh wow another one of my tumblr kids. a while ago, i had followed her for her fics, but never really talked to her. one day, i was adopting lin and she asked if she could join as my child bahaha ofc i said yes and then suddenly, i became her representative parent. then, we fell out of touch and she forgot that she had a mother smh i am HURT— /j haha my babies. i love you all <3 she was very cool back then, but now I'm just thinking that she needs some sleep :(

#“(?)” ⸻ anonymous guest.

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liberty-barnes · 5 years ago

Text

Done Wondering

Jock!Tom Holland x Female!Reader

Highschool AU

@danicarosaline requested: Hi pretty!! i saw your requests are open so may i please request a jock Tom x reader! Tom is a big softy and the captain of his football team and reader is a tough ‘not taking shits from anybody’ type of person? Like Tom gets in an argument with a team mate and he’s being all nice and calm about it but reader thinks his team mate deserves a good punch in the face so she punches him and it shocks the entire team and Tom himself even though he expected it!!

Warnings: F L U F F, not sure that the football talk is 100% accurate, all I know about American football is that Tom Brady's a quarterback, their jerseys are cool and apparently I'm supposed to cheer for the Pats? (yeah, that's my dad's fault), B99 references (i fucking love that show), cursing, a bit of violence ig

Word Count: 2.3k words (why can i not write short things?)

Estimated Reading Time: 9 minutes

A/N: so sorry it took so long to get this out! also, i got waaaaaay to invested in this... oopsie

Masterlist

You ran across the field as people all around you celebrated with only one goal in mind: kiss your boyfriend.

You and Tom had been dating for almost seven months now, to many people's surprise. The entire school thought you'd be together for a week tops, but you surpassed all their expectations by becoming the longest standing couple in junior year (not that it was hard, high schoolers change partners like discardable gloves).

Tom was one of Sunset High's best and brightest, loved by the teachers, captain of the football team, and the object of many's affection.

You, however, were nothing like that. You hated sports (everyone knows art's better anyway), social interactions were your personal little slice of hell, and everyone was too scared to approach you since you threatened to gut Charles after he accidentally forgot to give you back your pencil.

All in all, there was no way you two could stay together.

There was no way you could even make a friendship work, let alone a romantic relationship.

But then there was that fateful summer night...

Your mind ran at a thousand miles an hour as you rocked in the park's nest swing. The stars looming over you were the only thing keeping you from spiraling, and after an hour of watching them, the peace in your mind was crumbling.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

You sat up on the swing and looked to your right where stood a sheepish-looking Tom.

"It's okay, I should probably leave anyway..."

"No! I mean, it's okay, you were here first I didn't mean to disturb you."

You cast your eyes down until he spoke again.

"You go to my school, right? (Y/n)? We were in the same English class in freshman year."

"Yeah, I think so... I'm surprised you remember me, we didn't have any classes together last year..."

He huffed out a laugh and leaned against the support beam, hands in his pockets.

"It's kinda hard to forget someone like you. You stood up to the teacher on the first day after he yelled at a kid and spent the next year having actual coherent debates about the books that most of the class never even read, let alone understood. You're kind of amazing."

You ducked your head once more to try to cover the blush on your cheeks, biting your lip.

"Thanks."

He nodded and took a deep breath, then sat in front of you and pushed so the swing was rocking softly, always catching it before it hit his face.

You giggled a bit and sat criss-cross applesauce, back straight, your mother's words permanently etched into your brain.

"So, what are you doing alone in the town's most secluded park at midnight?"

"Oh, you know, questioning my life choices, freaking out because in three weeks we're going back to school while simultaneously feeling stir crazy after having nothing cool to do all summer, regretting ever being born, the usual. What about you?"

"Getting crushed by everyone's expectations, feeling constricted cause I have to set a good example for my little brothers, freaking out cause I have no idea what I want to do with my life, the usual."

A comfortable silence settled between you.

"Do our lives really suck or is it just the teenagers in us that dramatize everything?"

He huffed out a laugh.

"I don't know, tell me your story and I'll let you know."

You scooched to the side and patted the now empty spot on the too-small swing so he could lay down next to you. Looking at the stars seemed like a better idea than looking at him.

"I never really liked school, people are jerks, cafeteria food is disgusting at best, I have no friends -not that I care about that, I'm better off alone. Still, it's better than being home. When my father isn't working in his study, he's berating me about getting better grades, even though I'm a straight-A student, not that he cares enough to actually know that. My mother's usually either gossiping with her other rich friends or telling me to correct my posture, dress better, act like a lady, it's infuriating...

"My older brother, the only person in that family that I genuinely like, left for MIT today, so I guess I'm just now realizing that I'm really... alone. I'll have to suffer through my father's lectures about getting high grades and act like someone I'm not so my mother doesn't take away everything I love until I "learn to act like a respectable woman". Jake used to get them to lay off me, but now he's not here. Sometimes I wonder why they even adopted me if I'm such a bad daughter. It just sucks."

You felt his hand twitch next to yours and his eyes on your face.

"Your turn."

He took a shuddering breath before speaking.

"My parents are amazing, they really are, they only want what's best for me, but sometimes it's a little much. They constantly remind me of going to training, doing my homework, studying for tests, and even though they always say it's okay, I see the disappointment in their eyes when my grades lower even by a single point.

"My little brothers look up to me a lot, and they're always telling me how much they want to be just like me when they grow up. I know they mean it in the best possible way, but it's just that much more pressure. I just... feel the need to always be the best at everything. The best football player, the best captain, the best student, the kindest person in that school, most helpful... it's all a bit much."

This time, it was you who were looking at his profile while he gazed at the stars.

"It's okay to feel overwhelmed, Tom. It doesn't matter that they have the best intentions, they're still putting too much pressure on you and you deserve the chance to relax."

He turned towards you and for the first time that night, you realized just how close you were.

"You're not a bad daughter just because you have different interests. I, for one, think you are a strong and independent woman who doesn't need to change because of some mere peasants. You're a queen... You deserve someone that'll treat you as one."

Your breath caught in your throat as you locked eyes with him.

"Wanna make a deal?"

You nodded tentatively, though at this point you'd probably agree to murder someone as long as he kept looking at you that way.

"I'll be your friend, give you something to do whenever you need it, save you from your asshole parents and remind you of just how awesome you are every day..."

"And in return?"

"And in return, you'll say stuff like what you said before when I get too stuck in my head, save me from my so-called friends when they're being jerks, and come to every practice with me so you have something to do and I have someone to make silly faces at."

"I'm pretty sure there are a thousand girls in that school that would kill to have you make silly faces at them."

"Maybe so, but they aren't you. A lock of your hair is worth more than all of them combined."

You bit your lip and smiled.

"Okay."

"Cool."

He pecked you softly on the lips before he lost his nerve, quick and fleeting, feather-light but strong enough to leave fires in its wake. You pulled him back and gave him a slightly longer kiss before setting your head on his shoulder and going back to stargazing, now with someone to keep you company.

Three weeks later, you walked into school hand in hand and haven't let go since.

"Tommy!"

You jumped into his arms, ignoring the smell of sweat and how it would probably cling to your clothes.

"You did so good baby!"

He kissed you straight on the lips, not minding his teammate's wolf-whistles, having grown used to them already.

"I had a pretty good motivation."

"Oh?"

"Mm-hm, my girl told me she'd bake me cookies if I won this match, and I really like her cookies."

"Sounds like you have a great girlfriend."

"The best."

You kissed him again and he smiled when he felt the fabric of his spare jersey adorning your figure.

"Yo, Holland!"

You forced apart by Teddy's call, one of the newer players. Since you went to every single practice, you knew that Teddy was being an ass lately, always wanting the glory, never passing the ball to his teammates. If it weren't for Tom's skill as captain of the team, he would've cost them most matches, including this one.

"Why didn't you pass me the ball?"

"Pardon?"

"That last play, I was free and you passed the ball to Harrison even though he almost lost it. You should have passed it to me, we almost lost because you want to make your useless bestie feel included!"

"Johnson was closing in on you, if I'd passed it to you, we would have lost for sure. Passing it to Harrison bought me the time I needed to get out of danger. It was purely strategical, you would know that if you paid attention to your teammates instead of playing all on your own. Haz is an amazing player and I don't treat him differently just because he's my best friend. I'd like you to apologize to him, please, it's not kind to insult your teammates."

You admired the fact that he managed to remain calm and collected throughout the whole conversation, looking like the embodiment of 'I'm not mad, I'm disappointed'. You, however, were not having such an easy time keeping your cool, hands firmly clenched at your side.

"The hell it was! You just feel threatened by me because you'll never be as good as me, so you never pass me the ball, it's ridiculous!"

"Okay, buddy, you need to back the hell off and close your mouth before I punch it shut."

His eyes flickered to you and he rose a brow mockingly.

"Oh, your little slut's standing up for you know? I always knew you were a chicken, guess my theory's been pro-"

You cut him off with a punch to the nose, smiling when you heard the satisfying crack of his bones and his howls of pain.

A collective 'ooh' came from the crowd, and they took a few steps back (excluding Tom of course, who was only looking at you with wide eyes).

"What the fuck?"

"I warned you, didn't I?"

You smirked evilly as Teddy was pulled away by the coach to check his injury.

"You're a bitch!"

"Baddest of them all, sweetheart. Have a fun time at the hospital!"

The whole crowd had gone silent by the time you turned back around, seemingly satisfied with your vengeance.

"What?"

You tilted your head in confusion at the awestruck looks on the team's faces.

"You broke his nose!"

"Uh-huh."

"With just your hand."

"Uh-huh."

"Since when are you so violent?"

You were actually kind of offended at that.

"I know that I bring you guys snacks after practice, but do none of you hear when I threaten other people? It's a daily occurrence."

The rubbed their necks sheepishly.

"Well, you see..."

Haz started, seemingly measuring his words.

"You're kind of like Rosa from Brooklyn Nine-Nine. No one actually knows what you're capable of, no one thinks you'd actually kill someone, but we're also kind of too scared to test you, so we just... wonder."

"Well, when you're done wondering, go take a shower so we can go celebrate, I'm hungry."

They all scrambled away in a chorus of 'yes ma'am' before you turned back to Tom with a smile on your face.

"You didn't have to punch him, you know?"

"Yeah, but I've been wanting to for weeks now."

He huffed out a laugh and kissed your forehead.

"How're your knuckles?"

"A bit sore, but I'm pretty sure that if we put some ice it'll be good, the rings took most of the impact."

You wiggled your hand, showing off the array of rings covering your fingers in what you deemed to be an aesthetically pleasing way.

"I love you, babygirl."

You kissed him, smiling into his lips.

"I love you too. Now go, shower!"

You patted his butt and laughed at the look he threw you, standing next to the field while you waited for them to get out.

Their coach came to stand next to you and you smiled at him, having taken a liking for him. He was a good teacher and treated the team well.

"Coach Jeffords."

"(Y/n)."

"What's the verdict?"

"Nurse says it's broken but we'll only know the full extent of his injuries after he gets examined at the ER. He's on his way there as we speak."

You nodded.

"You'll be pleased to know that he's been taken off the team and suspended for a week for unruly behavior. His parents aren't going to press charges since they feel it's deserved."

You smirked evilly.

"I'd advise you to watch out for Pembroke. He's starting to become a nuisance. If he keeps it up, he might be next."

He nodded, fighting back his smile even though you knew damn well he agreed.

"I'll do my best."

"And I'll do mine."

"(Y/n)! Ready to go?"

You nodded in goodbye at the coach and walked over to a freshly showered Tom, interlacing your fingers.

"Always."

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

PERMA TAG

@jeezkiddo @beananacake @yoinkyourheart @averyfosterthoughts @onebigolemess @samoney69 @agirlwithpointlessideas @ddaawwssoonn @inhumanwithpowers @imagineshere-forall @stiles-banshees @orowit @spideynut @deathofmissjackson @ephemeral-limerences @write-from-the-heart @cardboard-ben @my-alignment-is-bisexual @mendes-marvel @shawnsnovel @inthecornerchair @lovelynerdytraveler @niallssweetheart22

ACTORS/RPF TAG

@bubblegumbarnes @sofiaconlaz

TOM HOLLAND TAG

@tomsirishgirlx @dreaming-lia @markleehee @juliebean247 @gypsystuf @quechulitaaa @theoretical-theo @bubblegumbarnes @sofiaconlaz @underooling @hannahholland1811 @bellaaa321-blog @parkerpetertingle @emily-louise-hynes @clara-licht @ekelly2015 @inlovewithmobtom @quaksonhehe @danicarosaline @arts-ismything @peachyafshawn @tutuabby28 @sovereignparker @tokhalaxoxo @cathwritestragediesnotsins @incorrect-things

#tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland #jock!tom #jock!tom x reader #high school #high school au #mcu #avengers #marvel #mcu spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #fluff

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karlnapity · 4 years ago

Text

Devil Eyes

chapter 1! this is more or less a continuation of The Problem is You, but it can be read separate. will reblog with the ao3 link so it doesn’t get hidden.

(warnings for death, panic attacks, trauma, references to violence)

Fundy may be avoiding Tubbo.

(He’s familiar. He recognizes the same empty look in his eyes, the same tired slump of his shoulders, the signs of someone desperately trying to suppress their emotions. Fundy’s sure he looks just the same.)

Tubbo has not addressed Schlatt’s dead body. It’s disappeared by now, he knows, because he keeps finding himself at the scene, and he keeps staring exactly where the body lay.

(He can’t get the sounds of desperate choking, coughing out of his head, can’t stop feeling like he’s the one dying, like he can’t breathe. He keeps waking up gasping, Schlatt’s goat pupils burned into his eyes, his final words echoing in his ears.)

It’s not just Tubbo; everyone has been pretending nothing is wrong, that everything is great, even when they stumble over rubble that still hasn’t been moved, even days after the fact. They keep pretending everything is fine, and Fundy wants to scream.

He sees through the cracks-- none of them are doing okay, but Fundy just wishes they would fucking admit it:

Tubbo has chewed through his lips, left blood trickling down his chin in a nervous habit that he can’t bother to try to break.

Tommy screams Wilbur’s name in the middle of the night, and they all pretend they can’t hear through the thin walls of their makeshift refuges.

Quackity’s hands haven’t stopped shaking, and he has started wearing his ring around his neck again in a way he hasn’t done since before the inauguration.

Phil’s eyebags grow more and more every day, and every once in awhile he’ll simply stop and sigh to himself like he can’t believe what’s happening. (Fundy relates.)

Niki has been spotted in the button room many times, sitting on a piece of rubble and staring at her hands.

Everyone else has faded into a background blur, people he avoids and people he can’t bother noticing.

(Fuck. That’s ironic.)

Dream has been trying to talk to him for a while, now, but all Fundy can hear is a buzzing in his ears and whispers from Wilbur he’s been trying to ignore.

“Fundy,” Dream snaps, tapping his wrist. Fundy jumps more than he’d care to admit.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeats, running a hand over his face. Dream reaches out, gently, and fixes his fur.

(Fundy can almost forget he’s the one who started this all, who has caused all this chaos. His finger burns like the ring is fire.)

Fundy has been more uncomfortable with Dream than he’d care to admit. He wants to forget all this has happened, wants to forget about the destruction.

He wants someone he can trust, but he’s cursed, and there’s no way to escape that.

He reaches out and catches Dream’s hand, holds it for a second, then lets go and stands. Dream follows.

“I’m gonna go sleep,” he says, and leaves him behind.

Bad passes him on the way down to the common area, which is simply the cleanest area of the destruction. The eye of the storm. Fundy gives him a wide berth, wants to avoid him as best he can. Niki is cooking some sort of soup, and he goes to join her.

She jumps when he sits down beside her, and he gives her an apologetic smile. She pats his wrist.

“How are you doing?” She asks worriedly, genuinely, and Fundy wants to burst into tears.

He’s always loved Niki. She’s wonderful, the kindest person he’s ever met.

(He has no idea how she’s lived this long.)

(He keeps her at arm’s length, because if he gets too close to her she’ll betray him, and he doesn’t think he could handle that.)

Niki hands him a bowl and they eat in silence, but for once it’s comfortable, or as comfortable it can be with Wilbur whispering in his ear.

“Are you okay?” Niki asks after a minute. “Your ears are twitching.”

He shakes his head to clear it as best as he can. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He finishes his meal, thanks Niki, and wanders on. He feels directionless.

His feet take him to Schlatt’s place of death, again. He stares down at the floor, the pattern of the wood carved into his brain forever.

` There’s no reason he should be here. Schlatt didn’t matter to him, shouldn’t matter to him, but he did.

He can’t do this anymore. He crouches on the floor, holds his head in his hands, and cries.

Someone is patting his back, murmuring something or other, but he can’t bring himself to care. He feels like he’s going crazy, Wilbur’s voice in his ears near-constantly. He can’t hear himself think.

It takes him a while to calm down. He rubs disgusting snot on his sleeves, leaves tears and dirt smudged in his fur.

Once he’s finally stopped hiccuping too much to pay attention to anything else, once he’s finally able to breathe again, is when he raises his head.

Quackity is sat next to him, tears running down his cheeks as well, the ring on the chain gleaming around his neck.

Fundy relaxes. Of everyone, Quackity is the best candidate, one of the people he may trust the most.

(Which isn’t a good sign, but he can’t bring himself to care.)

“Sorry,” he rasps, sounding altogether too much like a certain president who was here a few days ago.

Quackity shrugs. “It’s not a problem. I saw you looked upset, and…” He reaches up to brush a few tears off his face.

Fundy hiccups. “Were you crying too?”

“Nah, nah,” Quackity says, still clearly wiping his tears. Fundy snorts.

They sit in silence for a few seconds, neither of them quite sure what to say, both of them wanting to spill their guts and yet so hesitant to do so.

And then Quackity stands, claps his hands together (Fundy jumps), and says. “You know what. This is bullshit.”

He grabs Fundy’s arm and pulls him to his feet, and then outside and towards the common ground. Fundy rushes to wipe the rest of his tears off his face and fur, but he’s so confused he can’t quite get there.

Quackity reaches the area where Niki had been cooking maybe half an hour before. He makes a beeline towards Phil, who’s settled on a rock, sharpening one of his swords. His wings are curled around him, still covered in bandages. Not many of them had been injured in the explosion, but Phil had been trying to cover Wilbur.

Quackity catches his attention and claps again, taking a breath. “Let’s admit it. You two’ve got to have a chat.”

Phil looks back and forth between the two of them. “Oh? What do you mean?”

Quackity runs a downy hand over his face. “Listen, y’all are fucked up. You’ve got to talk it out. Fundy isn’t handling this well.”

Fundy’s face burns, but he can’t help but be grateful for Quackity. But… why couldn’t he have been the one who’d been able to bring it up? Did it take Quackity’s interference?

You’re just a follower, Fundy.

…

That’s not Wilbur.

Schlatt.

His hands are shaking, but he can’t fall apart. Not here.

“Okay. Let’s go someplace private, then, Fundy.” Hm. Maybe he can imagine Phil being a father, now.

(That’s cruel. He doesn’t deserve that. Fundy’s just trying to force him away. He can’t get too close.)

Fundy makes to follow him.

Are you going to just do what they say, Fundy? You’ve never hesitated to BETRAYdisobey before.

Fundy freezes, his mind shuttering closed. His hands are shaking like leaves. Phil and Quackity are staring at him.

“Fundy?” Phil asks gently, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go, okay?”

Fundy nods.

He can see the shadow of horns in front of him.

#mcyt #personal #minecraft #dream smp #manburg #manberg #lmanberg #lmanburg #fundy #quackity #jschlatt #schlatt #wilbur soot #tubbo #philza #nihachu #fanfiction

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crossdressingdeath · 4 years ago

Note

I can’t believe so many people missed the point of WWX and JC going their separate ways. It’s not just saying they don’t like it, they just think the author tricked them as if MXTX didn’t consistently show WWX getting more and more tired of JC’s attitude as the novel went on.

Guanyin Temple JC finally takes things too far with the things he said and WWX needs to tell him enough while hiding behind LWJ. Even JC himself realized how unfair he was being when he says even now he expected WWX to comfort him. JC himself realized how stupid he was being and it’s why he finally let WWX go and never told him about distracting the Wen’s. JC, even on a small level, realized he just guilts WWX and forces him to stay.

The kindest thing JC ever did for WWX at the end of the novel was letting WWX go without any comments and finally accepting they have their own lives to live. Which is huge considering the day before he literally kept preventing WWX from leaving the ancestor hall just to insult him and try forcing a fight out of him and even pushed WWX to minor Qi Deviation at the same time.

Can they reconcile one day? Maybe. But by the end of the novel and as we see post canon, it won’t happen for a long time and no one is forcing the issue of them not being in each others lives right now. Not even Jin Ling cares. Just because people don’t like it doesn’t mean it came out of no where and it’s ignoring the only step JC has taken to do something right by WWX.

Yeah. There’s an increasingly strong sense throughout the present day arc that WWX is just getting more and more done with JC’s shit every time they see each other; you can really feel how the time away from JC and with someone who treats him kindly and with genuine love and affection is showing him that JC doesn’t treat him well and that he does deserve better than JC gives him. And of course there’s other things, like the difference between LWJ’s treatment of the juniors under his authority and JC’s treatment of JL. It’s like... one of the most obvious markers of how much WWX has changed and come into his own since his childhood is that while he never approved of JC’s dickishness the things he found amusing and cute and maybe a little unpleasant at worst as a kid growing up in Lotus Pier he finds deeply annoying at best as a grown man facing his childhood playmate who hasn’t grown at all from those days. Which makes sense for multiple reasons; it’s WWX growing and realizing he doesn’t have to put up with JC’s shit, and it’s also a grown man seeing his childhood friend behaving exactly how he did when they were children and realizing in the way a child wouldn’t how pointless and cruel and childish that behaviour is and always was.

The lack of reconciliation is I think a mark of how different they’ve become. They were always different, but WWX has grown as a person. JC hasn’t. Take the scene where WWX says, almost fondly, “You haven’t changed a bit”; he’s not happy with JC’s behaviour, but this is the brother he remembers and he’s glad to see him. Then JC whirls around, says “I’ll show you who hasn’t changed”, and sics WWX’s worst fear on him for no reason. This isn’t all that far into the present day arc and WWX has yet to grow that much, but you can see even then how WWX is changing and growing and JC hasn’t and isn’t. And when WWX takes JC’s lack of change as a minor disappointment perhaps but also almost a relief the same way NHS’s apparent lack of change is JC flips out, turns around and accuses the man who was dead of not changing while he was dead and then attacks him. And of course that builds with every interaction they have, and every flashback shows us more evidence that these two are incompatible as people and that reconciliation would actually be a bad thing. Particularly for WWX, but they could never make each other happy. They’re just... too different and want mutually exclusive things from each other and from life. If you look at all the scenes with WWX and JC, really look at them without using the lens of “Aw Yunmeng bros so great”, you see two children raised together and told to be close from a young age who take opposite lessons from their experience and opposite paths in life and in the end can’t go back to that childhood. Even as early as the Xuanwu arc you can see it starting; WWX wants to step in and help, he sees it as their duty. JC actively stops him and would’ve forced WWX to be a bystander to MM’s brutal murder-by-monster if JZX and LWJ hadn’t stepped in. Nothing really comes of it at the time (except for JC’s temper tantrum later), but it’s a clear sign of the coming split in their beliefs with the Wen remnants; the split that turns out to be irreconcilable.

There’s also things like the comparison to the Twin Jades with the “Twin Heroes” (or “Twin Prides” if you prefer, I have no idea which is a more accurate translation if in fact either of them are more correct) thing. The “Twin Jades” moniker is something the people gave to LXC and LWJ, because their relationship was so clearly as close as twins. And they’re beautiful and charming (...well, LXC is) and their public image is one of them being incredibly close brothers. The Twin Heroes moniker is something WWX invokes, using the example of another set of brothers who are known for being close. It’s not something that’s actually used, it’s something WWX makes up to bring JC down from his temper tantrum and that never really comes up again until JC uses it to guilt him later. Really think about that scene. WWX creates parallels to other, more loving and more successful (for lack of a better term) brothers, rather than focus on how loving he and JC are. “If Gusu has its Twin Jades, Yunmeng will have its Twin Heroes”, “we’ll be just like our fathers”... I don’t know, maybe it’s just me? But it feels kind of like WWX is... grasping at straws a bit. He says he’ll be loyal, but it feels less like a “we’re brothers and we love each other” and more like “look, we’ll be like these people who love each other!”

So... yeah, MXTX actually spends a lot of time on foreshadowing that Yunmeng bros are not a relationship that will survive the test of time. The biggest surprise in the Guanyin temple where they finally officially go their separate ways (I say officially because let’s face it, the two of them pretty much went their separate ways the day JC declared WWX a traitor to all the sects for not being down with genocide) is that JC does realize that he’s being incredibly unfair to WWX and lets him go without trying to guilt him over JC’s sacrifice, and even that was a good and satisfying point for his story to end on. This was a natural and well set up place for that relationship to end up, and like... people can dislike it all they want, but saying MXTX somehow “tricked” them or fucked up the story just because she disliked JC (which I’ve always found to be a generally stupid argument to level at authors anyway because as an (aspiring) author let me tell you if I hate a character enough to sabotage my own story to fuck them over I rewrite or remove the character) is an embarrassingly lazy analysis of the novel (and even calling it an analysis is a stretch but I can’t think of a better word off the top of my head) at best and at worst is an insult to MXTX and the novel she worked so hard to create.

#mdzs #cql #grapehate #wei wuxian #anon #asks

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musicfren · 4 years ago

Text

tend hearts to bloom (our folly exhumed) part 2

Everything takes time to grow. Some good things take so much longer than you could have ever thought possible, and the best things might never grow at all. All you can do is tend to your garden. Part 2 is HERE y’all. Me and @nottesilhouette have finished part two of our hyper-extended flower metaphor saga :P You can read part 1 here. Happy @felinettenovember y’all! May this post last you a lot longer than 3 days <3

Felix lives in a state of “too cool”: too cool to be friends with the kids at school, too cool to be friends with the teachers and faculty, too cold to be friends with anyone at all. So he’s the last to realize when a new trend finds its feverish way across the school in whispers and muffled laughter behind lockers. Normally, he wouldn’t care-- schoolyard trends are little more than the transient, ephemeral whims of children drifting on the winds of their judgement, but there’s something about the ink that peeks through the sleeves of Kim’s shirt that demands his attention.

“What is that?”

“...are you checking out my muscles, bro?” Kim is genuinely baffled, not a trace of judgement in his tone but clearly trying to slot the puzzle pieces together as to when Felix became someone who cared about brawn, either in himself or anyone else. Still, Kim is nothing if not kind, so he flexes in Felix’s direction to give him a better look.

His sleeves ride up when he does, and Felix brushes his arm over the bulge of Kim’s forearm, which probably doesn’t help the confusion. But the ink is irresistible to Felix. It’s familiar and gorgeous, sharp clean lines on Kim’s skin, and so glossy Felix worries it might smudge. It doesn’t.

There on Kim’s wrist, perfectly framed by his bulging veins, is a comically cute grey dumbbell, and a doodled little snapdragon curled around the handle of the weights.

“Oh, dude, did you mean my tattoo?” Kim is clearly relieved that his perception of Felix can remain intact, and helpfully flexes a little more. This is a much more reasonable thing for someone like Felix to find attractive. “Yeah, I finally caved and got it done, I wasn’t really sure what to get, y’know? I didn’t want to show up there like an idiot with no idea what to say or ask for, but Max told me that she was really good about just listening to you talk about what you liked and working with you to get something nice done. I like Max a lot,” he shares conspiratorially.

Felix nods, as if this makes sense, and wanders away. Show up where? Get what done? Clearly someone was drawing this on Kim. There’s no way he could’ve done it himself; it was on his right wrist and Kim is right handed, but… Felix needed to know. He just didn’t know what to ask, or whether he should ask at all.

But Felix knows how to hold his tongue, how to say the right things and keep himself safe, so he waits three days before ending up in a partner project with Max. Not by design, he plans to insist to anyone asking. No one asks.

They’re listing their skills to decide who’ll take which piece of the project when Felix makes his move. “And you draw, too, right?”

“No?” Max looks flummoxed, and Felix panics immediately.

“Oh, well… I just… you had… Kim-told-me-you-drew-a-dumbbell-for-him!” He rushes the sentence out all in one breath, and Max looks more startled at his explanation than anything else, which sends Felix spiraling even more.

But Max just takes a moment (a way too long moment) to process, and then laughs. “Is that what Kim said? He must’ve explained poorly. Nah, he got it the same place I got this.” And then Max is unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it up enough to show off the robot brushed over his abdomen, adorned with a cheerful amaryllis where its heart would be.

“Where… um, where did you get it?”

“Oh, art room after school! I’m surprised you haven’t seen the line out the door yet, it reaches well past the auditorium and I know you like to practice violin there after school. So, the project?”

Max is too focused on the work to answer anything else after that, and Felix is too afraid to try. But he does know that Alya spends ages in the art room writing up articles for her blog as she waits on Marinette.

He doesn’t get a chance to ask Alya anything, though, because Chloe derails the rest of class bragging about the shopping bags on her bicep and thoroughly avoiding the subject of the creator. Each one of them has an orange lily stamped on it in bold color, and Felix snorts. Fitting, though he’d never say it. Beautiful hatred is the modus operandi that Chloe exists on.

The day after that, he waits until Nino is busy getting lunch to corner her at a lunch table.

“Cool drawing, Alya.” Compliments are good, right? Compliments help people get what they want. And Felix wants, needs to know what this is, because there’s something so familiar, important, the way they’re tagged, and he would know it if he just had one hint, the right clue to fit into this picture--

“Thanks! My girl’s talented, don’tcha think? I love the way she let me match Nino.” She tugs down her collar to show off headphones slashed through with a pencil, and the ball of a group of sycamore flowers dangling off the end of the eraser like a pom pom.

Felix bluescreens. No, no, that’s wrong. That’s not what he’d glimpsed on Nino’s neck, and Alya said they matched, something is wrong.

“Why is that flower there?”

Alya laughs. “Well, every designer’s gotta have her tag, right? She’s a real tattoo artist, tags every piece with a flower she chooses out of nowhere. No one can work out what the pattern is, even when we cross referenced traditional flower meanings, but they’re always gorgeous and fit in so well-- have you seen Juleka’s? You’d hardly even notice, it’s so punk rock.”

Nino’s making his way back and there’s no sycamore pom pom on his pencil, just an aster on the ear of the headphones, and Felix’s mind is whirring too fast to follow but Alya is walking away and the clues are slipping away like sand between his fingers and gripping harder only makes them slip away faster and--

“That’s the wrong flower.”

“What?” Nino startles, absolutely taken aback at this out-of-character greeting. He’s used to Felix being curt, speaking out of context, but this is beyond even Nino’s ability to nod through.

“It should be a marigold, right? Creative, passionate, absolutely driven by your art and the things you love, that’s who you are, why is it an aster?”

“...what??”

Felix can do little more than point. “Alya: sycamore, curious, journalistic drive, asking questions and doing everything she can to know a person so she can take care of them. Max: amaryllis, determined and focused on the work he builds and proud of it when it works because he has every right to be. Kim: snapdragon, strong and gracious and so, so, so protective, because that’s who he is so why is yours an aster?!”

“He deserves to know he’s clever, even if he doesn’t feel it.”

Felix whirls around, and Marinette is standing there clutching her bag to her chest, trembling, but glaring at him from half a foot shorter than where he stands. She’s so strong. She’s so strong, and Felix wonders if she kept marigold for herself. She deserves to, if she wanted it.

Maybe it shows on his face, what he’s thinking, or maybe she’s just always been the kindest person he was ever dumb enough to let go, because her gaze softens, hurt and hopeful in equal, anxious measure. “You remembered.”

“...you made it hard to forget.” The way her face crumples confirms that yep, nope, Felix is an idiot. He scrambles to fix it, take it back, get it right this time no matter who’s watching. “No, no!! Like… unforgettable.” His voice is breathy on that last word, nostalgic for a childhood they barely shared, and it’s wrong and someone’s going to make fun of it but right now just for a second he doesn’t care.

“...oh.”

What people really do make fun of him for is the way he ends up apologizing, for hours, sobbing into her blazer and wiping tears from her cheeks, and still not walking into school with her art on his skin, and Felix doesn’t correct them.

He was right: there’s a marigold inked over her heart like a treasure.

There’s a butterfly inked over his, now, landing on the petals of a geranium, and they’ve talked about now. Butterflies, first of all, can live for years, so that wasn’t even true, and friendships… friendships are like flowers. They take root and they grow, and when the sun hits right their seeds will burst into petal and stem and exist, persist, against every odd and obstacle.

She has no idea how apt that butterfly is. Felix brushes his fingers over a brooch barely visible behind his tie, and feels hope blooming in his chest for the first time in years.

This time, he knows how fragile it is. This time, he vows, he’ll keep the sunlight on it, patch the soil around its roots with fertilizer and keep it safe. This time… he’ll love her the way she deserves to be, the way she wants to be loved, the way he knows he’s allowed to.

#felinete #felinette november #felinette november 2020 #felinette month 2020 #felintte month #miraculous ladybug #PV felix #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #tattoo artist #sneeky sneeky akuma reference #agressive flower metaphors #MusicFrenDoesWords

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theshipsfirstmate · 4 years ago

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Agents of SHIELD Fic: Come On, Sweet Catastrophe

post-7x09 dousy (sousy? daisysous?) angst and talking and a little bit of sweetness. Because Daisy’s got some stuff to work through.

Title from “Hurricane” by Something Corporate, because yes, I was an aughts emo kid and yes, “you don’t do it on purpose, but you make me shake” was a line written for Daisy Johnson.

Come On, Sweet Catastrophe (AO3 - wc: 2393)

She and Coulson sit there with Enoch for what feels like forever. Even after he’s gone, even after they’re out of danger, even after Mack sends the all clear over the comms, they just sit there in silence.

She had told him, however many loops ago, how sure she was that they’d figure it out. She should have known it would go like this. They’re not that lucky. There’s no victory without consequence these days, not when the stakes get higher every time she looks up.

Sousa is the first of the team to get to them, of course he is. She can’t even pretend that she’s confused about why anymore. She knows now, just like she knows how frightened he looks when he’s about to die.

“Daisy!”

He says her name when he sees her slumped on the floor, and looking up at him is enough to push forward the tears that have been threatening to fall.

She’s not sure who moves first, but she’s reaching for him as he’s crouching to help her to her feet and it feels more natural than it should when she turns and buries her face in the crook of his neck.

“You did it,” he whispers, and it’s not as comforting as she hoped it might be.

She nods against his shoulder, taking in a deep breath as a fresh wave of grief and worry threatens to take her knees out from under her. “But, Enoch...“

“I know.” Daisy loosens her grip to see May and Mack are already seeing to the body.

“Why did he-”

“It was the only way.” Coulson answers before she can finish the question — even though she’s not entirely sure it’s the one she was trying to ask.

Deke nods in agreement, swiping at his cheeks with a jacket sleeve. Simmons can’t meet her eyes.

Suddenly, inside her, the sadness begins to crystallize into something darker. Coulson was right, it’s a special kind of devastation to be the one carrying the memories of all the failed loops. It feels almost like her childhood, packing her lonely memories into those flimsy black trash bags when it came time to move on to the next home. She can blink and see Mack going blind, Simmons gasping for breath, Sousa falling to the ground right in front of her.

And they’ll all leave her again, Enoch had warned with his last breaths. A bitter, angry dread pushes its way up her throat, blurring her vision and crawling across her skin, and an old familiar instinct returns.

She pushes Sousa back a step and turns for the door, ignoring his confused look and the way he calls her first name again as she leaves without a word.

_______________

The thing about this ship, she’s learned over the years, is that there’s really nowhere to run away. She makes it to the loading bay before setting down in an exhausted huff, and when Sousa follows moments later, taking the seat next to her, it feels like deja vu. Daisy remembers the fire in his eyes when he talked about taking on HYDRA single-handedly if he had to, remembers how it had ignited something in her own chest.

She remembers how he had told her time wasn’t the only thing he’d lost in the fight so far. She remembers wanting to tell him that she knows that feeling too.

Now, he just sits in silence, waiting for her to make the first move. When she finally does speak, she wonders if she surprises them both.

“When all of this is over, if we survive,” she asks, even as the odds of that seem lower than ever after today, “would you want to go back?”

“What do you mean?”

“Back to 1955. Back to your life.”

“I-I couldn’t. I’m dead, remember?” There’s a crinkle in the corner of his eyes, but his gaze is serious and she can tell he’s trying to feign a playful response to put her at ease.

She’s had countless extra time to try and figure him out, but when, in the midst of all this chaos, did he learn to read her so well?

“You work for S.H.I.E.L.D.” She adds a sarcastic eye roll for good measure, and hates herself immediately for it. “I think they could figure out how to keep that secret. Or you could have a whole new life, travel the world, I don’t know.”

“Why are you asking me this?”

It’s a fair question, and one for which she has no good answer. Maybe she’s selfishly trying to get him to reveal even more of himself to her. Maybe she’s trying to push him away proactively, to blow this up before it can even really begin.

“Just wondering, if you could. You said it yourself, there were some goodbyes…”

“Daisy.” It’s sharp, but not angry. He knows what she’s up to, even if he has no idea why. Even if she’s not entirely sure herself.

She sighs, and looks down at where her fingernails are dug into her thighs.

“You don’t call me Agent Johnson.”

“No,” he answers, immediately back on an even keel. “I guess I don’t.”

“You call the others by their last names,” she ventures, forcing herself to meet his eyes again.

“Yeah, I do.” This time the crinkle is genuine, and her heart gives a warning thud in her chest.

She wants to tell him everything. How many times she woke to find him at her bedside. How he’d sacrificed himself without a second thought, trusting her completely. How he had answered so simply when she asked why he cared.

(“Because you don’t.” Not a moment’s hesitation, nothing ulterior about it. The same way he’s had her back since the first day they met.)

She wants to tell him that she’s ashamed for only working up the courage to kiss him after she knew what it felt like to lose him.

But she decides to tell him something else instead.

“HYDRA destroyed my family,” she says softly. Out of the corner of her eye she watches his right hand flex into a fist. “They tortured and killed my mother, and drove my father mad, and left me alone in this world.”

She takes a deep shuddering breath and purposely doesn’t meet his eyes. “S.H.I.E.L.D. gave me a purpose, and a home, and if it’s all falling apart, I don’t know what I...”

I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know who I’m going to be. I don’t know how I’m going to survive.

The violent voice in her head is silenced, though, when Sousa reaches out gently to take her hand in his.

“Did you learn something, in one of the loops?” he asks. She has to stop herself from scoffing — if only he knew — but she doesn’t pull away. It feels like she’s mere moments from coming completely apart, and that’s the last thing they have time for right now.

“Enoch, as he died, he warned us that this would be our last mission together,” she tells him. “I can’t even imagine a world where that’s true.”

Sousa hesitates but only for a moment.

“Well, it’s not like we haven’t changed the future plenty already.” Of course he still has faith. Of course he’s still unflinchingly in her corner. It shouldn’t surprise her, of all people. She’s the one that watched him wake up in that uncomfortable chair time and time again, ready to give her any support she needed.

“But Daisy,” he continues, “you’re not giving yourself enough credit. For as much as S.H.I.E.L.D. made you, you made it what it is, too.”

His eyes are just as earnest as she expects them to be when she finally looks up. And it feels like her whole rib cage splinters when he gives her hand a little squeeze and continues.

“I know your type. You’re the kind of person who fights tooth and nail to hold onto the things she loves. If you have any say at all, you’re not going to lose this family.”

It’s impossibly unfair to hold against him things that he hasn’t even said in this timeline, but she can’t help it. It’s the only part of his whole lovely sentiment that she actually hears clearly. “I know your type.” It echoes in her eardrums, throbs at the base of her skull.

It was perhaps the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to her, his little lost speech about being there to pick her back up, and it makes her ache to think about how it didn’t really happen at all. Not for him, at least.

But he’s still sitting here, isn’t he? He chased her down to hold her hand and look at her with those earnest eyes. It’s a look that tells her he’d give that speech all over again if she asked him to.

She wonders what Peggy Carter felt when he looked at her like that.

“Did you love her?”

It is absolutely, categorically, not at all the question she planned on asking him. Probably ever. But it’s the one that comes out.

He blinks, and then shrugs, pulling his hand away, and she realizes: this is what it looks like when he’s shaken. If she could reach out and take it back, she would in a second.

“I, uh- I don’t know,” he admits. “I think so. We didn’t really get a chance to…”

Now he’s the one who won’t meet her eyes, and it’s agonizing. He rolls with the punches so well, but Daisy should have known that there would be a breaking point. He lost 30 years — his whole life — in a blink, and the fact that he doesn’t dwell on it publicly is no excuse for her carelessness.

He even told her, back in that speech she can’t forget, that things weigh heavier on him than he lets on — and she blew past any semblance of propriety and pressed a thumb into his metaphorical bruises.

But before she can tell him any of this as part of a much-deserved apology, he’s standing to leave, rubbing absently at the knee joint of his new bionic before he does.

“You really should rest some more after… all of that,” he says softly, casting a quick, inscrutable glance at her as he goes. “Just for a little. I’m here if you need me.”

He says that, but then he’s gone. Down the hall towards his makeshift bunk. She wants badly to follow him, can feel the selfish ache in her fortified bones. But she’s not sure she deserves that kind of validation.

_______________

In another life, another time, Daisy’s sure she would stay behind and wallow in the callous way she’d let her own emotions step her so clearly over the line. In this one, where she’s ever cognizant of just how precious each moment can be, she gives him five, maybe ten minutes.

Thankfully, his door is still open. He’s sat on his bunk, fiddling idly with his wristwatch, and when he looks up he doesn’t seem surprised to see her.

“I shouldn’t have-“

They say it at the same time. It tugs at the corner of her mouth, but there’s no way she’s letting him apologize to her, so she speaks first — telling him another thing that’s true, another thing that’s been weighing on her mind.

“I’m afraid that if I go to sleep, I’m going to wake up in the loop again.”

He doesn’t answer right away, just pats the bunk next to him, and she doesn’t hesitate.

“Was there anything good in any of them?” he asks as she sits down beside him. “Other than the last one where you, you know, saved all of our lives and the entire human race? Anything else worth remembering?”

She turns to watch him as he speaks. She’s closer here than she was in the bay, and she thinks she could lose a few good minutes remembering what the salt and pepper on his temple or the line of his jaw or the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt look like up close.

“Yeah.” Her voice comes out thick, and she has to clear her throat. “Yeah there were some moments.”

Sousa looks down at her as he waits for her to continue and the softness and trust in his gaze is another thing worth remembering.

“In one of them, I asked you why you care so much,” she tells him, readying herself for more honesty. “Why you’re always willing to help, no questions asked. Why you had my back right from the start.”

“And?”

Part of her had worried he was making some kind of comparison, Daisy realizes, but she knows now that it’s not about who she is to him, or who Peggy Carter was. It’s about the kind of man Daniel Sousa is, and seemingly always has been.

She leans back against the wall behind them and he follows. She tilts her head against his shoulder. Again, he follows, leaning softly against her.

“And you told me,” she answers, sure he already knows somehow.

“Good,” he says. Daisy can feel his mouth curve into a smile, and it feels almost more intimate than kissing him. “I’m glad I did.”

“Yeah?”

Her eyes feel heavy as the adrenaline from earlier finally starts to dissipate, and she wonders if she could actually fall asleep here, upright, but next to him. It’s the safest she’s felt in a long time.

“Yeah,” Daniel answers. “And there’s something else you should know, too.”

“What’s that?” Daisy feels his hand wrap around hers again as she drifts off.

“When all of this is over, the only place I want to be is where you are.”

#first mate fic #dousy #daisysous #daisy johnson #daniel sousa #agents of shield #agents of shield fic #sousy #daisy x sousa #daisy x daniel

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