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vanchlo · 4 years

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The Firsts / #2 “The First Time Bringing Him Home”

*not my gif*

---> NEXT BLURB: I hope that I can put it out on October 19th, following the every other week rule, but I’m not sure with my busy schedule. Keep an eye out for updates on the series masterlist!

---> READ BLURB #1

READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST

SERIES MASTERLIST

READ ON WATTPAD

-> SHOULD I CREATE A TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES? IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE ADDED, LET ME KNOW! :)

LEGEND:

+ : a break in the story; a time jump.

italicized words : a flashback.

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 10.7k words (!!!)

SONG: And I Love Her by The Beatles (CLICK TO LISTEN)

* SNEAK PEEK, DUH BC ALWAYS *

“A tear collects at the corner of my eye, reminding me that at times like these, I expect to blink and it’ll all be gone. I wait for myself to wake up from the dream, and to have him ripped away from me, just like all of those other times he was. But it doesn’t, because how could my dreams beckon for me when my life was finally better than anything I could dream about?“

“She thinks that there’s one soul out there, just for her. One that will stay by her side forever and that someday, she’ll find it.”

- Kazuya Kujō, GOSICK -ゴシック-

“Are you kidding me?”

Groaning, I drop my purse in the doorway where it falls with a thud, and my quick steps echo down the hallway. “Harry Edward, I swear to God,” I mutter under my breath, narrowing my eyes at his laughing figure at the other end, but the happy sound only grows further and further away.

“What would you ever do without me?” I ask nobody aloud, coming to a stop in a patch of sunlight dancing through the tall window. Rounding his desk, I find his brown messenger bag that I still smile at every time, and begin to pack his stuff up.

Pulling open a drawer, I find his Macbook charger that I may or may not be stealing for the tenth or twelfth time. After the last of the unwrapped cord comes out, something pink flutters to the marbled floor. Huffing, I shove the charger into his bag and bend down to pick it up, smoothing down the end of my skirt against my bottom. The thought of standing back up comes to my mind, but as a hint of his recent Sage and Citrus candle trickles through the air, I stop at the words I see.

“Huh,” I sigh, my lips curling into my cheek as the writing on the Post-It clears before my eyes. A certain somebody’s handwriting that I could recognize instantly, but my noggin takes a moment to rouse the reason for this very note.

I hope your case went well today, Harry, and I’m sure it did because you’re so good at what you do. I just wanted to let you know that I really like working with you, and I’m so glad that I found this job, and more importantly, you. You’re one of my best friends, Harry, so thank you a lot for that.

Your Becks xxx

The space between my eyebrows softens when the jigsaw pieces click inside my head, but then it’s followed by the smallest of tears in my chest when I notice that my name is smudged. The paper all over has smudge marks, and looks almost crinkled, as if somebody spilled something on it . . or shed tears onto it.

“Oh, Harry. I hate to think what you did do without me,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over the note I wrote so many years ago, and yet, he still clung onto it. Standing back up, I clear my itchy throat and tuck the note back into the drawer where it sat in the little divider surrounded by coins and pink erasers.

“Can I help you with sumthin’?” a voice teases from the doorway. I almost jump when I hear it, the sleek wooden drawer closing without a sound.

“Yeah, you can stop making us late.”

“What, we’re not gonna be late, Becks.”

“We will if you don’t stop it with your Minnesota goodbyes,” I quip, draping the cloth strap over my shoulder and stepping forward.

“Whatever tha hell that means,” he titters with knitted brows, that breathy laugh escaping his lips to grace the air. He closes the distance between us and I feel zings of electricity on my forehead where his lips touch. “Here, gimme. I was jus’ sayin’ me goodbyes t’ My’ t’ make sure we’re all set with bein’ gone t’morrow and Monday, and you as well.”

“If you say so,” I exhale, letting him take the bag from me. Somehow, it only makes him all the more attractive, clutching onto it across his chest, clad in a teal and black paisley suit with a button up the color of raven feathers beneath.

“C’mon, brat. Let’s get this show on tha road then,” he complains ever so annoyingly, making me roll my eyes.

“Hey! Watch it, you’re on thin ice, bud!” I exclaim, whipping around to find him giggling after pinching my ass.

“Oooo, ‘m so scared!”

“Harry, hurry up already! I don’t want to hit rush hour traffic! What more do you need to bring? It’s only a three-four day trip,” I call up the staircase, my hands slapping against my thighs in impatience.

“‘m comin’! Would ya chill yer tits, woman? My God,” Harry chuckles, appearing around the corner of the staircase a moment later. Shaking my head, I catch sight of the large box wrapped in floral paper. “Don’t smile now, Becks. Dontchu’ smile, babe.”

Stifling a giggle, I turn around fast and thread my fingers through the cloth handle, “Dammit, Harry, what do you have in this bag? It weighs a ton.”

“‘s yer birthday presents, bug.”

“It is?” I ask excitedly after an intake of air. His steps stop in front of me, but I ignore him and push aside the fabric of the large reusable cloth bag.

“They’re wrapped, silly. Hey, you were gonna cheat and take a peek, weren’t you?!” Harry exclaims. Looking up slowly, I press my lying lips into a line and shake my head. His own pair rise to pinch his cheeks and now, it’s his turn to shake his head. “Naughty, naughty, Becks. Hmm, maybe I should jus’ leave ‘em here and you can open ‘em when we get back on Monday. Fo’get ‘bout openin’ ‘em up t’morrow mornin’ on yer birthday.”

“Harry, no!” I almost shout, but his stern look dissolves into a giggle. A spark ignites on my cheek when his thumb brushes along it, hooking his fingers into my hair.

“Don’t worry, sweets. I can hardly wait t’ give ‘em t’ you, let alone anotha few days,” he winks, and I feel my shoulders relax when I breathe out. “Now, let’s go put this in tha boot, and get goin’. Yer dad’s expectin’ us soon,” he hums, bending forward to sponge a kiss under my eye. I can’t remember when he had started doing that, but I smile at the feeling of his warm lips on my birthmark.

“Hey, what’d I say earlier?!” I argue a moment later, almost jumping into the air after he pinched my bum.

“I don’t care. Yer gonna be tha one makin’ us late now, if ya don’t hurry that cute bum o’ yers along.”

Giggling, I open his glossy, black front door to step onto the front stoop. Humming a tune, Harry helps me to get the heavy bag into the boot of his Rover, fitting it and his large box amongst his suitcase and my own. Things are shoved to the side, including his windshield scraper, a jumper or two, and his bag of workout clothes with his highlighter yellow Nikes spilling out.

“Becks, I get t’ pick this time!”

“No, you don’t. I don’t even remember who picked last time, but I got to your phone first. That’s the rule,” I return with a mischievous grin pointed towards him. Huffing, he adjusts himself in the driver’s seat before pulling the seat belt across his chest.

“Pick sumthin’ good please, and would ya plug me phone in then?”

“Sure, and wait, what do you mean? I always pick good music!” I say, turning to look at him as he presses the button to start the car.

“I love ‘Dancing Queen’ and ‘Bohemian Rhapsody,’ babe, but please, can we have sumthin’ different t’day? ‘s a three hour drive, I don’t wanna be listenin’ t’ those songs or bloody ‘Hannah Montana’ tha whole way.”

“You’re no fun,” I groan, finding the words I had just said feeling heavy in my throat when I see his lock screen. A giggly picture of us from the other night fills it, the first time I’ve seen it. Smiling, I unlock it regrettably, and find his Music Library.

“Alright, Ms. GPS, where am I goin’ exactly? ‘s been awhile since ‘ve been up this way, y’know,” Harry says, adjusting the air conditioner until it flows softly.

“Thanks for driving,” I tell him first, squeezing his hand and watching his eyes scan over to me. They instantly fill with the smile that follows on his face.

“Welcome, babe. Take all tha time ya need with gettin’ back t’ it. But, y’know, ya should start lookin’ fer a new car.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this right now, Harry-,” I begin in an upset tone, scrolling through one of his playlists.

“Ya, but I do. I don’t see why you won’t lemme help you pay-.”

“Harry, I can afford it, I’ll be fine. The settlement money will be enough for a used one,” I disagree, settling on a Haim song just to have something to listen to already.

I just hope it’ll help me tune out this impending argument.

“Ya, a shitty used one, Becks. ‘m not gonna let you drive ‘round an unreliable car, I-.”

“Well, I don’t remember needing to have your permission before I did something,” I retort, setting his phone down above the radio on the little mat, noticing his fingers darting around on the touch screen.

“That’s not what I said, Becks, y’know that . . Ya don’t ever need me permission t’ do sumthin’, I can’t believe ya’d think that ‘bout me,” Harry sighs, stabbing at the screen one last time before backing away from his closed garage.

Closing my eyes, I let my head fall against the window, regret pooling inside of me darkly. I try to swallow, but the words I want to say sit there, unsaid.

“I don’t think that about you, Harry, I-.”

“Then why fookin’ say that, Becks?” he spits back, harshly switching gears before zooming along as the directions are spoken to him.

“Because I’m upset and people say things they don’t mean when they’re upset, and I’m tired of-.”

“Doesn’t fricken ‘scuse what ya said, actin’ like ‘m controllin’ when ‘m not like that. You know ‘m not,” Harry grumbles under his breath, stopping suddenly in front of a changing stoplight.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ya well, what have you said t’ me befo’, huh? ‘Sorry doesn’t always cut it,’ ‘cuz y’know, it doesn’t mean a whole lot when it gets overused all o’ tha time,” he continues, a bite in his voice. I soon taste blood in my mouth and release my tongue, unaware I was taking out my frustration on it, as well.

“I don’t want your help buying a car, Harry, why can’t you just accept that already?” I almost explode, wishing I wasn’t, but the words were shoved up and away before I could stop them.

His sigh is automatic and unavoidable, as is the click of his tongue, “‘Cuz we’ve argued ‘bout this how many times, and ya still won’t tell me why not.”

“Fine, because I don’t want to take your help- your money. I-It’s just how I was raised, I don’t know. It’d be so embarrassing, Harry . . ,” I trail off, my voice growing small and choked.

“Oh, Becks,” Harry says in an exhale, lacing his hand with mine and pressing a kiss to it. “Ya don’t hafta be embarrassed, love . . I know that you’d pay me back, and however long it takes ‘s fine.”

“Thanks, but . . I don’t know. I don’t like ‘talking money’ with you, no offense or anything. It’s just . . weird with you being my boss and signing my checks, like you say. You know how much I make, and I know you pay me a little more than an associate because you like me.”

“‘m sorry I give you shit ‘bout tha check thing, but y’know that other part’s a bit o’ an understatement,” he wheezes, squeezing my hand in his. Breathing in, I move my head to look at him and watch his eyes turn to me and soften. “It ‘s. I liked you afta a few weeks o’ knowin’ you at tha firm, then I really liked you, and then I loved you.”

“Harry,” I say with a sigh, looking away and finding our laced hands sitting on his thigh, right where he always places them.

“What, ya aren’t gonna reciprocate me love?” he giggles, and I remain quiet. “‘s okay, love, ya don’t always hafta.”

“I love you too, but-,” I start, but cut myself off, just in time. Or, so I think.

“But what?” he asks, his indicator making a ticking noise while he switches lanes. It takes me a few moments to notice the absence of the music. I think that he’s lowered the volume, but then, I gather that he’s turned it off altogether. “Becks, what’re you thinkin’ bout?”

“Bug? Yer scarin’ me, what’s tha matter?” he says, hurrying through his words. My lips are dry when I swipe my tongue over them, but the landscape outside my window is anything but that. It’s green in between the buildings and the hot sun shines high in the sky.

“I feel like a burden to everybody . . the last few months . . ,” I admit in a small voice, focused on the sensation of him twirling a ring around my finger. An old one I had found in a drawer the other day, from my uni days with Skye. “What are you doing?” I ask hurriedly when I notice he pulls off the road onto the shoulder, and parks.

“Becks,” Harry says firmly, pressing his thumb into my hand, but it doesn’t wake me up quite yet. “Rebecca Holte, listen to me. No, I need you t’ look at me too,” he continues, cupping the side of my face and pressing on it until I look into his eyes overwhelmed with something. “You are not a burden t’ anybody, let alone t’ me. I love you, Becks, mo’ than I thought I could ever love somebody. Hell, mo’ than ‘ve loved anyone. Yer never a burden t’ me, ‘ve told you this fer years, and I wish you’d believe it, love. I really don’t mind givin’ you lifts t’ work, and I know Skye doesn’t either. How else would I know that you secretly love Miley Cyrus’ music, or ya still jam t’ High School Musical or The Lion King? I love ridin’ t’ work and home with you ev’ry day, I honestly cherish gettin’ that extra time with you. Sure, ya drive me nuts sumtimes with yer odd music tastes, but I love you fer that. I love you for yer stubbornness, even with this bloody car issue, ‘cuz I dunno if we’d be t’getha if it weren’t fer yer stubbornness. I love you fer how good you are with yer money, tha effort you make fer those you love, like spendin’ tha weekend at yer Dad’s fer yer birthday with Robbie. I love you fer yer dedication t’ anythin’ and anybody that you love - throwing Asher a surprise birthday party tha other week, or organizing that baby shower fer Rose next week. Yer amazing, you blow me off me feet ev’ry day with sumthin’ new ya did. You could never be a burden t’ me, yer tha complete opposite, bug. You make tha world spin ‘round fer me, always done that, you have. Ya make me excited t’ get up in tha mornin’, t’ be a lawyer, hell . . t’ be a person, and mo’ importantly, yer boyfriend and best friend. I never wantcha t’ think yer a burden, ‘specially t’ me, ‘cuz that’s tha last thing you are t’ me. I love you mo’ than I could ever begin t’ tell you,” Harry divulges and not for the last time do I feel like The Grinch, because it feels as if my heart has grown another size, or two.

His warm laugh dances across my head when I fall into his arms and pull him against me for once.

“Dontchu’ cry on yer birthday weekend now, bug,” he jokes against my temple, his lips making a smacking noise against my flushed skin.

My favorite song in the world fills my ears as his words from before drunken my mind with their never ending meanings. I never thought I could love somebody this much, either. Sorry, Skye.

Sniffling, I brush my hand against my itchy nose and peer up. His greens brighter than the grass outside my window peer down at me, softer than can be.

“I love you too, Harry, so much. I don’t know what more I can say after that,” I croon with happiness plastered across my face. “But, thank you.”

“Ya don’t hafta say anymo’, that’s mo’ than enough fer me, sweets,” he assures me, pressing his lips to mine. “‘m sorry ya didn’t get mo’ settlement money, ya would have if it was me who fought yer case.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s okay?” I giggle and he nods with those dimples on full display for me. He nibbles at his bottom lip, leaving short white imprints amongst the rosy color. I sometimes still amaze myself at getting to run my fingers through his hair whenever I want to, like now. The clean, citrus smell of his new shampoo wafts over me as he smiles down at me, making me think all of my dreams have come true. Almost all of them.

“I know, bug, but it was disappointin’, tha settlement.”

“Your friend at Williams and Knox did great, Harry, and you couldn’t have argued it with your connection to me. Nobody at the firm could, seeing as how I work with them,” I explain to him, my thoughts brushing over the redundancy of it all.

“‘ll tell ya what, I have an ol’ mate who works with cars, and I bet he could knock off a few grand fer me-.”

“Harry!” I begin to protest, but it’s soon whisked away by the softness of his lips against mine. Our giggles tickle the others, and his hand is cold against my hip when he slides up my shirt. “I don’t want you to-,” I start again after he pulled away, but he dives back in for another kiss. Now, I don’t really care if we happen to be late.

“Ya gonna stop arguin’?” he wheezes after ending the kiss, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. My lips part and he raises his eyebrows in response, making me nod moments later. “Good. Now, as I was sayin’, he owes me a favor so ‘ll see what I can do ‘bout gettin’ you a new car. Actually, I think a lease would be best fer you.”

“But, Harry, new cars are too expensive and the insurance as well, and-.”

“Hush,” he whispers against my lips, soon letting me taste his coconut chapstick for the third time in the last minute. Then again, time has seemingly gone out the window these last few minutes, and I couldn’t care if I tried. “I really do think ‘d be best. Ya, insurance would be higher, but then ya have a new car, guaranteein’ no problems, and if there are, tha dealer place fixes ‘em free o’ charge. Inna few years, ya can buy it, or trade it in and sign another lease.”

“Okay, Mr. Convincing Lawyer, you do have a few good points,” I at last agree, watching his sixty-watt smile only grow brighter at my surrender.

“Yer music t’ me ears, y’know that?”

“Ditto,” I say, smiling up at him.

“Maybe if ya continue t’ be good and give a li’l less lip at work, ya jus’ might get a raise when it comes t’ yer six month review next week,” he jests with a lift of an eyebrow, a shit-eating grin plastering his lips. “Reckon that’d help with tha car, bug.”

“Is that so, Mr. Styles?”

“Mmmhmm, it ‘s indeed, Ms. Holte,” Harry answers, but I ignore him and choose to get lost in his lips, and the baby curls on the back of his neck.

A Paul McCartney song hums around us, the soft twang of acoustic guitar filling the holes as buildings pass on by. Yawning, I shuffle my feet in front of me and tip my head against the window. The song comes to a gentle end before a Bowie song follows, and I find my thigh warmed by his touch. I lose myself in the lyrics as his thumb leaves circles through my jeans first above my knee, then higher, and higher. Turning away from the window, I peek a look at him to find him biting at his nails while focused on the road.

“Stop biting your nails,” I whisper, my hand falling onto his and dragging it back towards my knee. It’s difficult, but I hold back the grin begging at my lips when I watch him blink with emphasis.

“Stop movin’ me hand. Y’know what, it took me tha last ten minutes t’ get that high,” he retorts without moving his eyes from the traffic in front of us.

“Why are you trying to get so high, huh, Mr. Styles?”

“Yer not helpin’ things by callin’ me that. Y’know how I feel ‘bout you callin’ me it,” Harry sighs, his thumb falling from his lips, and he turns on his indicator. After switching lanes, he reaches into the middle compartment and offers me a stick of gum before shoving a piece into his mouth.

“And how do you feel about me calling you that?”

“Stop,” he says, turning his head to look me straight in the eyes when a light has turned red. “Playin’ dumb, Becks.”

I avoid his eyes with a giggle and peer out at the landscape where buildings soon become far and in between, knowing how it gets to him and in a good way. His tsking tickles my ears and I shove his hand away, sure I’ve only made matters worse. The next few songs tick Queen off the list, as well as The Stones, and Simon and Garfunkel before a Beatles song follows.

“Penny Lane is in my ears, and in my eyes,” the radio sings back to us while Harry cruises at a steady 68 miles per hour. His distracted humming along eggs me on, and without a thought more, I slide my hand across the divider and onto his thigh. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything, and when I glance over, he’s blowing bubbles between singing along. “And in his pocket is a portrait of the Queen. He likes to keep his fire engine clean . . ,” he nods to the words, and smacks loudly on his gum. I take the chance and slowly lift my hand from the warmth of his leg, and find another spot a little higher up.

“Yer cheatin’,” is all he says while sitting back further and adjusting his hand on the wheel.

Huffing, I look away guiltily and try my darnedest to hide the smile blooming on my lips, “I am not.”

“Yes, you are. Only slidin’, no liftin’, Ms. Holte. Start over, then.”

“Fine,” I groan, replacing my hand to above his knee where I had begun in the first place. His chuckle irritates me, but when he picks up my hand to press a kiss to, I find it hard not to melt next to him.

Throughout the next few songs featuring Jagger, Backstreet Boys, and McFly, I don’t get very far. I hardly beat my record when he picks up my hand and places it back at the starting point.

“Harry!” I exclaim in annoyance, turning to face him. His dimpled cheeks round out with a pink smile. “No fair, I almost won!”

“Ya, and ya were gettin’ a li’l too close t’ me junk, y’know.”

“That’s the point of the game, silly!” I argue but it only collapses into a laugh that he reluctantly echoes. “We don’t actually . . touch each other, you know that.”

“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout? You did jus’ tha other day!”

“Stop it!” I whine, crossing my arms over my chest and facing the window once more with hot cheeks. With my face smushed into a line, I find only a few bits of relief when my forehead meets the cool glass of the window, wishing I hadn’t heard those words. “Don’t,” I mutter when he pries at my stubborn arms that coax me back together.

“Babe, I was jus’ jokin’ with you. It was only an accident, ya don’t still hafta feel bad ‘bout that, Becks,” Harry insists, but the harmless giggle feels anything but that when it interrupts the new Busted song.

“I would if you’d stop bringing it up! You know that I’m never going to hear the end of it from Skye, and now, you too!”

“Bug, it was funny. We all agreed it was, ‘s nuthin’ t’ be ashamed of still, I promise you.”

“Oh, hush,” I say through gritted teeth, shaking off his hand only to hear his depressed sigh.

His voice grows low, and somehow, I let his hand remain when it graces the round of my knee, “I didn’t mind y’know, ‘s rather flatterin’ actually-.”

“Would you shut up about it, please? I touched your crotch the other day, I know because I was there, and it was in front of Skye. I almost died from embarrassment when it happened, and if you don’t stop bringing it up, I actually will die from embarrassment and it’ll be all of your fault.”

“Becks, chill out, babe,” he titters, the emphasis held in his hand that tries to rub the worries away, but I remain pouting. “Stop it with tha poutin’, love, ‘s not lost on me. It was an accident that ‘m sorry I keep givin’ ya grief fer. I like our li’l game, and I know ‘s harmless. Maybe one o’ these times ‘ll make it up t’ you and let ya win.”

“Stop talking already, you know I hate it when you let me win.”

“Young lady, ya better stop it with tha whining, cuz yer stuck with me for tha next three-four days, and ya best bet ‘m stealin’ all o’ tha covers,” he gripes, and I at last look at him with my body too.

“Harry Edward, you will not!”

“I will too, ‘specially if ya keep on poutin’ ‘bout that thing, ‘s not worth it,” he insists, pulling free one of my hands to lace with his one, and smatter the skin of with kisses. “I jus’ hope ya like what ya felt, but ya should know, ‘s mo’ impressive when ‘s hard.”

“Harry, would you stop it?!” I shout, yanking my hand away from him and shrinking against the window with a shiver. “You’re gross.”

“What, like ya haven’t thought ‘bout me dick befo’?” he wheezes with that breathy laugh I’m trying not to love right this moment. Sighing, I close my eyes and try to focus on the song, but it’s becoming too difficult as his words spring a leak in my mind.

This little ‘game’ of ours had started shy of a few weeks ago, and I can’t even remember why really. One of us had started laying our hands on the other’s thigh and as a joke one night, I think after some drinks, I got a little handsy and tried to see how far I could slide my hand without him noticing. It’s become a competition ever since and harmlessly, given the fact that a few steamy makeout sessions as of late hadn’t progressed to anything besides that. Running across some old photos the other night with Skye when backing up my phone made me realize again just how lucky I’ve gotten with him. The man I never thought I’d be able to love, and here I am, embarrassed because my boyfriend is talking about his dick that may or may not occupy my thoughts at times.

God, if I could tell Past Becky that sometime in the near future sh-we may get to see Harry naked, she wouldn’t believe me, or the fact I probably get to sleep beside him the next few nights with him wearing nothing but shorts. I can’t decide which outweighs the other, the excitement, or the fear of the f- that kind of future.

“No,” I whine, continuing to comb through the contents, despite the fact that I already know that it’s not there.

“Yer bedroom ‘s cute, y’know. Look at all these posters, I love ‘em. Bloody hell, ‘s that a Scooby Doo stuffie? Powerpuff Girls too?” he giggles from across the hallway, and I hear things being moved around. “Becks?”

“I know I packed it, what the heck?”

“What’s tha matter?” Harry coos, coming up from behind me and circling his arms around my waist.

“I forgot to pack a razor.”

Apparently, he finds that very funny, because within seconds he’s laughing, “Why ya frettin’ over a razor, bug? We’re only here three nights.”

“Because . . I didn’t want my legs to be prickly when we sleep together,” I reveal softly, and that sweet sound of his returns, soon muffled against my hair.

“I honestly don’t care if yer legs are hairy t’night, or t’morrow, or tha night afta that. I never have, love. But, if it really matters t’ ya, ya can borrow me razor. Lemme find it.” Facing him, I watch as he picks up his small, black toiletries bag and plucks a silver handled razor from it. “Here.”

“Uh, no thanks. Forget I asked,” I rush, occupying myself by grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste from the bag to set on the counter beside his gray one.

“What, why ya look scared, Becks? Ya never used a safety razor befo’ or summat?”

“No,” I reveal slowly, untwisting the cap of the white tube, and squeezing a dollop of the blue gel onto my toothbrush.

“‘s really not that bad, I promise you. I like it better, doesn’t gimme razor burn and goofy bumps, or ingrown hairs as much.”

“I’m fine, no thanks,” I mumble with the toothbrush in my mouth as I move it around, scrubbing my teeth.

“Becks, c’mon. Really, ‘s not that bad. Hey, why dontchu’ help me shave t’night, and that way you’ll learn how t’ use it. Reckon ‘s easier t’ use on yer legs, not havin’ all tha contours o’ yer face and jaw t’ nick.”

“Really?” I ask, placing a hand against the cool countertop, and facing him. “Wait, but I like your stubble and it was just coming back after you had shaved.”

“I leave the upper lip area and chin, but tha cheeks get patchy, so I shave those. I guess yer gonna hafta put up with tha stache again.”

“That’s okay, you know I like it. You’d really trust me to shave your face?” I respond, turning on the sink and filling a cup with water.

He nods, and with an eager smile, fishes out the large tube of shaving gel from his bag.

“What if I cut you?” I almost whine moments later, with the heavy handle in my hands.

“Babe, ya won’t, and if ya do, I won’t be mad. Rememba, like I showed you - forty-five degree angle, short strokes, and tha lightest pressure. Rinse every few strokes under tha tap. You’ll be fine,” Harry insists with the emphasis placed in his rising eyebrows. “Promise you that I trust you.”

“Okay, I’ll try it a few times, but that’s it. If I don’t like it, I don’t want to continue. I don’t want to hurt you, Harry.”

“Ya won’t, bug. This ‘s how ya learn, anyways. Now, c’mon, give it a go,” he coos, pulling me closer to him by his hands pressed to my hips.

Exhaling, I lift my hand and leave a gap of air in between the safety razor and his cheek covered in the white foam. Tilting it like he had said to do, I wait for him to open his mouth to pull the skin taut. I go with the grain and pull the razor along with short strokes, listening to his encouragements as his cheeks slowly reappears before my eyes.

“God, you look like a baby like this. I’ve always wondered what you looked like as a teenager, I want to see more pictures.”

“Noted, ‘ll hafta have me mum bring some over next time,” he replies and I nod, being careful when his face slopes with his cheekbones, but I save the jawline for him to do.

Goodness, Becky, you’re shaving your boyfriend’s face. Sometimes, I still catch myself when I call him that, Harry.

“Bloody hell, ‘s yer dad good at cribbage. I thought I had that last game 'til tha end there,” Harry chortles from across the hallway. Nodding to myself, I flick off the bathroom light, and stop in the doorway to find him snuggled under the covers of my childhood bed. Talk about a sight for sore eyes.

“I told you that I learned from the best,” I reply, closing my door softly and then getting the light. Dashing across the room, I almost jump onto my bed.

“Come warm me up, bug, ‘m freezin’ with that fan on,” Harry says, his teeth chattering, but I wonder if it’s only for the comical effect. “And then, God, what he said when we brought our suitcases in.”

“What’d he say again?” I ask, burying myself underneath the plain, gray comforter, and draping the rainbow colored quilt on top.

“How could ya forget, Becks?” he chuckles from beside me, the sound surrounding me when I place my head on his chest. His laughs continue and grow deeper over the next several seconds whilst I get comfortable under the blankets and his arms find their way around me. “Hey, Dad, where should Harry sleep? Have him sleep with you in yer old bed, I’m not getting any younger y’know, I want some grandkids soon, and Robbie isn’t looking too promisin’.”

“I can’t believe he said that either, I could have died from embarrassment right then and there,” I comment, my laugh joining his to echo around the room. His chest and belly shake and then squeeze beneath me as I nuzzle my head into the middle of his chest.

Little old me had nearly all of her dreams granted after I kissed this fellow, including getting to feel his toned body any time I want to, or lay my head between his solid pecs. Christ Almighty.

“Once again, ev’rybody, but us, thinks we’re havin’ sex,” Harry says, his laugh seemingly not going anywhere. My cheeks warm at his words and I wish that I could bury my head deeper into him, but I only feel the lukewarm metal of his cross necklace against my cheek.

“Hey, that’s not too bad of a deal. We didn’t have to do anything, and people think we are.”

“You have a silly mind, li’l one. I mean, I don’t care what people think, but I wish our parents would stop askin’ fer grandchildren, seein’ as we’ve only been t’getha four months,” Harry giggles, and I nod, remembering my dad missing vague and going straight to obvious when he said he was traditionally named after his father. His elbow into my side didn’t help his case, either.

Suddenly, a disturbing thought whisks my laugh away and I don’t find the joke very funny, anymore.

“Why aren’t you laughin’, hmm? Here, then - it was funny when he hinted he wants a grandson named afta him. Our parents really are obvious, aren’t they?” Harry chirps, and I nod silently, only now noticing the callused tips of his fingers dancing along my arm. “‘m sorry, I overplayed tha joke, didn’t I? ‘s not too funny afta a few goes, ‘s it?”

“No, you’re fine,” I say, but the thoughts kicking up dust in my head don’t feel very fine. No, they don’t make me feel ‘fine’ at all.

Why is it that she always has to ruin everything, ever since I was little? Even now, with her well out of my life, she’s still there despite the fact she’s not . . here.

“What ‘s it, Becks? Did I say sumthin’ wrong, love?”

“No, it’s not you, Harry. I don’t know, just overthinking things,” I reveal, letting my hand rest on the curve of his bicep, wishing I could see his tattoos in the dark to trace them. I know that that wouldn’t make them go away, though.

“Wanna talk ‘bout it, or jus’ go t’ bed?”

“I dunno,” I almost laugh, wishing this was ironic and that it was still funny. But, it’s not. “It’s hard to think about being a mum and mine not being there for it. I know that’s how I’d want it to be, though. It’s just . . hard, knowing how much other mums rely on that and enjoy getting to share the experience with theirs.”

“Oh, love, ‘m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” he pipes up, resting his head against mine, and I welcome the closeness.

“I know you didn’t, it was just my thoughts stirring up ‘what if’s.”

“Hey, ‘m sure when ya get t’ know me mum betta and Gemma, that me mum would be happy t’ step in fer that role, and me sister too. I already know with Gem that me mum would be all over my babies, and she’s a wonderful grandmother. I only wish she lived closer, but she’s always joked if I had kids, that that’s what would take her t’ move t’ London,” he says into my hair, and I nod into his smooth skin, my cheek tickled by his chest hair.

“Gemma must have been annoyed with that,” I titter and he agrees.

“‘ve thought ‘bout it too, y’know. Me dad‘s ‘round fer Harper and Ollie, but I dunno if ‘d ever want him ‘round my kids. He fooked up things with me, so why would I let him do tha same with me kids? I don’t want them wonderin’ why their granddad doesn’t come t’ their birthday party this time but did tha last, or t’ see us have a row . . It makes me sad, but y’know, ‘m glad we can relate t’ each other on this stuff, whatta load o’ rubbish it all ‘s.”

“Me too, Harry,” I breathe, tracing the shape of his necklace as his heartbeat thuds in my ear. “I can’t ever see things changing with my mum, but maybe it could with your dad someday . . It’s a good thing we’re not having kids anytime soon, huh?”

“Ya, reckon so, but ‘m already thirty, Becks. Time’s a tickin’ fer me in that father department,” he shares gently, and I wish I could see his eyes and lose myself in them, and maybe drag him along for the ride too. It’s all that I can think of to get rid of the sour remnants of this conversation, one that’s all of my fault.

“Oh, hush. My dad was thirty-four when he had Robbie and I, so you’ll be fine.”

“Ya, but I dunno, rather sure ‘d want kids soon afta gettin’ married,” he hums happily, a longing for the future in his voice. Boy, is it contagious. “Prolly within tha year.”

“Okay, would you chill it with the future talk? As you just said, it’s only been four months, Harry,” I laugh, nervously. A similar sound rumbles through his chest as he hugs me in his arms, smattering kisses along my head.

“Well, maybe four months will turn into forever one day, ya never know, bug,” he says with a lilt in his voice, teasing dripping from it. “C’mon, ya don’t know yet whether or not ya wanna be my Mrs. Styles one day?”

“I can tell what your answer to that question is,” my answer comes out in between apprehensive laughs, my cheeks surely scarlet against his skin.

“I never reveal me secrets, Becks,” he whispers, as if I don’t know it by now. “So, will ya marry me one day?”

“I’ll have to think about it . . ask again in a few months, weirdo.”

The streams of sunlight tease at my eyes while a sensation tickles my neck. Groaning, I shuffle my legs under the covers but they don’t get very far, knocking against another hairy pair.

“Wake up,” somebody coos softly into my ear, followed by a stream of gentle kisses down my face. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to pull the covers higher, but they don’t budge. “Becks,” they say, dragging out the sound of my name as they rub circles into my stomach.

I lay there for a little while longer, dipping in and out of sleep, amongst the sound of my name and indiscernible humming. The next time I open them, the sun is beating through the window and the standing fan whirs along. A pair of arms is secure around my waist, and although used to it, I feel somebody’s prickly stubble against my cheek. I smile into the soft kisses pressed along my face and then a last one to my nose. “Wake up, Boops, ‘s yer birthday. ‘s my baby Becks’ birthday t’day,” Harry croons and I feel his cheeks rounding out from a smile against mine.

“Mmmmm, my twenty-seventh birthday,” I reply, stifling a yawn. They reply with an ‘mmmhmm’ before they hide their face in my neck. “And I get to spend it all with you,” I hum, my thoughts waking me quickly. It’s black and white from my birthday last year, pining away for him as he loved somebody else and ignoring his presents.

No matter how hard I could try, I wouldn’t be able to remember how long it’s been since I’ve had a birthday as good as this one already is, and undoubtedly will be.

“‘m so glad I get t’, bug, ‘s ‘bout time,” he yawns from behind me, stirring under the covers. I whine when his leg moves away from mine and takes its warmth with him. “I didn’t imagine ‘d be wakin’ you up in yer childhood bed, but here we are,” he giggles. “Tha first o’ many birthdays spent t’getha, babe.”

“Yeah,” I reply distractedly, propelled back to this day last year and how robbed I felt of a day that was supposed to be all about me and being happy. That was the last thing I was, it seemed, and it’s like a different life to think about that while Harry kisses the hollow below my ear. My boyfriend, who kicks off a blanket with a groan, a laugh rising from my lips as he complains about being hot.

“‘ve taken off all tha clothes I can and ‘m still bloody boilin.’ God, Becks, could ya be any mo’ o’ a heater, love?” he sighs and I only reply with a loud laugh that grows when his hands roam my body to tickle me. I find his sleepy face painted with a smile when I turn around to face his naked upper half, and it makes me wonder how he could ever be any more perfect than he already is. “What? ‘m sweatin’ over here,” he wheezes, carding a hand through his mess of curls while his eyes shine back at me.

“Nothing, I just . . “

“You jus’ what, love?” he murmurs, threading his fingers into my hair and stroking it away from my face.

“I just, really love you,” I confess, watching the contentment blossom on his face to almost embarrassment.

“I love you too, Rebecca Ann,” Harry beams with that contagious smile again, dipping forward to peck me. “More.”

“No, I do!” I protest, fingering his gold cross necklace that’s warm in my fingers. “I love you most! There!”

“Okay, okay,” he titters, batting a hand at me before pulling me into his chest. “‘ll let you have it, but only cuz ‘s yer birthday, my love,” he coos, surrounding me with his arms and covering my head in kisses.

I silently roll my eyes but I know he hears my huff, “Don’t be a pout on yer birthday, jus’ be happy ‘m lettin’ you get yer way with e’rythin’,” he remarks, muffled against my cheek where his warm breath wafts over me.

“Everything, you say?” I tease, and his intake of air eggs me on.

“Oh, what d’ya want now?”

“Hey, it’s my birthday. I get whatever I want on my birthday, isn’t that what I told you on yours?”

“I don’t rememba those exact words, but yes, my girl can have whatever her heart desires on her birthday,” Harry responds softly, his eyelashes leaving butterfly kisses against me. “What ‘s that li’l brain o’ yers cookin’ up now, huh?”

A laugh peeks out from my lips and he groans in response as I ready my proposal, sure he’s falling back asleep in my arms.

“A baby,” I divulge, and begin to count the seconds after the words have met the air. 1 . . 2 . . 3.

“‘Scuse me?” Harry exclaims, pulling away from me and looking at me with a wild pair of eyes. I find it so hard to hold it back when his green eyes widen further, accompanied by a sudden pallor to his face. “Rebecca Ann-,” he begins adamantly, but the moment the chuckle pours from my lips, he stops. “Woman, I swear- Jesus Christ, ya really are gonna gimme a heart attack one o’ these days.”

“The look on your face, Harry! I wish you could’ve seen it,” I giggle profusely, only fed by the crimson appearance of his cheeks as he shakes his head.

“You li’l smart ass, you,” he tuts, swiftly flipping onto his back and pulling me on top of him. “Y’know, ya kinda hafta be havin’ sex in order t’ have a baby, love, sumthin’ that doesn’t quite exist fer us yet,” Harry remarks with the cutest double chin from below me. I adjust myself lying on top of him so I’m not crushing his lungs, or well, his baby making junk.

“Not yet, anyways,” I murmur with a smirk, enjoying the squirming he does at my words. He giggles and covers his face with both of his arms, exposing as well as hiding some of his tattoos.

Propping my chin on my hand, my elbow finds a place on the mattress as my finger finds its way to his chest. I trace the numbers in my handwriting above his heart, so entirely grateful for this year and mostly all that it’s brought along with it.

“Maybe one day I’ll have a baby with you.”

I hear his wheezy laugh and the happy sigh, because they live inside of me too. His greens are stuck on me from between his peeking hands when I look over and my smile brightens.

“If we’re havin’ kids, ‘s gonna be mo’ than one, ‘ll tell ya that right now, missy.”

Somehow, my lips spread even wider, “How many then, Mr. Styles?” I pose aloud with a raise of my eyebrows at him.

“Five.”

“Harry!” I exclaim and he giggles from behind his hands that his eyes peek out from. At last, he drops them and peers across at me, making me believe in the cuteness that is triple chins. “Five children? Five mouths to feed, lunches to pack, activities to put them in, bedrooms, pairs of shoes, car seats, bums to change, new school clothes and well, new everything every year, and five babies for me to push out of my crotch?”

That really gets him going and soon, a deep chuckle rumbles through his chest and from his lips, but I really couldn’t be complaining. It sparks one from mine too, and only makes me think of what it would be like to do this with him every morning. One day, with a swaddled baby lying to the side, or on his chest. What have I started now?

“Yes, five . . Five kids t’ cuddle, make memories with, take on adventures, introduce Harry Potter t’, bake and cook with, watch grow and do great things, have mosey into our bed at night, maybe teach guitar or piano t’ one or two, teach ‘em so many things, and I hope they all have yer eyes and yer laugh . . Can you imagine all that love, Becks?” Harry says, dreaming aloud with an effervescent look in his eye that I’ve only seen a few times before. “Hey, don’t you do that on yer birthday,” he tuts, but I’ve already started and go to sniffle into the crook of his neck. “Did I say sumthin’ wrong? ‘m sorry if ‘s too soon and-.”

“No, you said everything . . right,” I whisper against his neck, the absence of words letting me feel how it moves with every tick of his pulse. Gulping, I wait for him to answer, but I get it when he begins to hum our song amidst running races up and down my back with his hand.

“Maybe one day- Wait, no. Not ‘maybe,’ hopefully one day,” Harry coos as I stare into the darkness, but this time I’m not afraid or fleeing. I could never feel anything but safe in his arms, and I know our children would too. “Mmmm, ‘m lovin’ tha cuddlin’, but holy shit, am I warm!” he continues, our skin sticking together as he separates from me between our laughs.

After a few trips to the bathroom between us, Harry plops onto the bed and pulls me onto his lap. His lips sponge kisses along my cheek and his arms surround me, almost swallowing me with their span.

“Well, are ya jus’ gonna stare at ‘em or go and open ‘em, bug?” he coos, the hairs on the back of my neck lifting at his words tickling my neck. Turning my head, my excited eyes connect with his, and he nods. “Go already,” he says, kissing me before I leave his arms.

“Which one first?” I ask, crossing the bedroom to kneel in front of the line of gifts set before my dresser and our suitcases.

“Whichever yer li’l heart desires,” he answers. I grab one of the smaller ones and look over to him. “Savin’ tha biggest one fer last, I see.” He folds his hands together, his long arms already turning golden this early in the summer, and so are his legs that his arms drape across.

Giggling, I stand up and make a few trips to bring the presents to the bed.

“Openin’ ‘em up here, are we?” Harry asks with dumbfounded astonishment gracing his tired features.

“Mmmhmm,” is all I say as I settle onto his lap again, and relax when he wraps me up inside of his embrace. Tipping my head to rest on his shoulder, I stare down at the pink and purple flowers that branch across the crisp wrapping paper, and suddenly, it’s like for the second time.

I’m not going to let it happen again. No, not sitting on the floor with his presents before me, and him so far away, if only a few steps. His chest rises and falls with rhythmic breaths and I remain there, moving my ear until I hear the song his heart plays, needing this to feel all the more real. A tear collects at the corner of my eye, reminding me that at times like these, I expect to blink and it’ll all be gone. I wait for myself to wake up from the dream, and to have him ripped away from me, just like all of those other times he was.

But it doesn’t.

I blink and the tear falls, and his lips rest in my hair, waiting for me. His large hand leaves waves and blossoms against my back, and hopes and promises. I make them too, just as silently against him. I promise myself that I’ll never give up on him, and although he doesn’t know, I promise that to him too.

“Open it up, bug, what’re you waitin’ fer? ‘m dyin’ with anticipation here!”

Smiling, I lift my head and don’t waste any time finding his lips with my own, just because I can. He moans a sound against mine and holds onto me, and I know that he would never let me go, either.

No, not again.

“What was that fer?” he breathes half a minute later, staring deep into me.

“Just ‘cause,” I respond and he only smiles back at me, but then he tips his head to meet mine, resting his forehead on mine. He winks and brushes his nose against mine a few times in a different kind of kiss.

“I hope I get anotha one o’ those afta ya open yer presents.”

“We’ll have to see about that, Mr. Styles,” I grin and he amplifies it with a snort, bumping his shoulder against mine to remind me of the present I hold, and his affable impatience.

Wrapping paper still litters the floor, so do purple bows, and Amazon boxes. The shadows of our mingled laughs pepper the air as his hair falls through my fingers, and his slow breaths are whispers against my skin. I let my head fall and my hair dance across his skin before my lips do, ever so gently.

“Sweet dreams, love,” I barely whisper, careful to leave the bed without waking him. At the last second, I turn back and pull the comforter and quilt up his thighs covered in gray shorts, and past his bare shoulders. He’ll need it with his personal heater gone from his side, I think.

Tip toeing across the room, I take careful steps around the pile of presents still sat by our suitcases. The elation and disbelief comes over me in another wave when I see them one by one, starting with the lilac colored Kitchenaid mixer.

“Ya need it fer yer bakin’, love. I know tha kneadin’ part o’ recipes ‘s a bore, and yer handheld one was almost shot. We both know that. Maybe ‘m tellin’ you t’ bake fer me mo,’ I dunno,” he had laughed after my jaw had fallen to my chest, and his faced turned a proud crimson.

“We’re already halfway in, might as well make sure we have tha whole boxset fer when we wanna rewatch it,” Harry told me after I had opened the large box with the five Friends’ faces on it, assuring me that it was just as much a present for him as it was for me. He had kept making it known that that was the theme, so I would stop complaining about him spoiling me too much.

“I can’t take any credit fer that one, which ‘m quite sorry ‘bout, but mum wanted t’ knit ya sumthin’. Told her ya loved blankets, and here we are. Reckon I might have ya keep it at mine so I can steal it too,” runs through my head as I once again rub the chenille type yarn between my fingers at the end of the bed where the knit blanket lies. With a proud grin, I grab two corners and drape it over the sleeping man in my childhood, twin-sized bed, a dated McFly poster hanging over his head.

“This one’s jus’ as much fer me as it ‘s fer you, too,” he kept saying, then for Paul McCartney’s second show at the O2, and then for another pair of tickets to his daughter Stella’s fashion show in just a few weeks.

The same phrase, give or take a few words, flowed from his lips when the bag of candles graced my hands. He explained that we nick so many candles from each other’s offices that it was only natural that he bought me some, seeing as how he’d be stealing some here soon, especially the Tobacco Vanilla, Whiskey Cedar, Sage and Lemon, and the highly coveted Cinnamon Roll one.

The cribbage board was just a bonus, him claiming that he could finally bring his office one home and keep mine at work for us to play on.

What he couldn’t claim his rightful ownership to as well was the card full of unintelligible scribbles from Harper and Ollie, that thank the Gods, Gemma helped them write. The tears in my eyes since the first present grew and grew, and didn’t waver at the message of how Harper wanted to have a sleepover at Harry’s soon with me - nail painting, baking cookies, and all.

But, when I met his eyes with my sad, puppy dog pair, he melted right then and there.

“Harry, this is too much. I can’t accept all of this,” I had told him and he shook his head, lifting my own with his thumb to look in his eyes.

“Please, Becks. I-I hate t’ say it, but I have too much money than I know what t’ do with, and ‘ve been so excited to give you all of these. Don’t worry ‘bout tha money. Alright, my love?”

I gave in, and with the kisses he smothered me with, there was no way in hell I could say no to that face.

He stirs underneath the covers behind me, and so do my thoughts, but with a huff, Harry returns to snoring softly. I carefully open my suitcase and fish out my last clean outfit, and without a sound, walk across the hall and into the shower.

I thought I had made out like a bandit, but when I slip back into my room in search of Post-Its and a pen, I find that somebody else is awake.

“Where are you goin’, Becks?” they rasp, pulling themselves up to sit and the covers pool on his lap. Rubbing at his eyes, Harry cards a hand through his tousled curls, quickly yawning.

“Oh, just to run an errand quick. Go back to bed, I won’t be gone long.”

“Mmmm,” he groans, knuckling at his left eye. “Can’t it wait ‘til we leave this afternoon, bug? Y’know I can’t sleep without you, I get too cold, and miss havin’ you in me arms.”

“No, it can’t. I’m sorry . . You’ll fall right back asleep, Harry, I promise,” I shush him, stepping forward and pressing on his shoulder, but he doesn’t fall back in any of the ways that I’d hoped.

“I’ll come with, then. We can grab some pastries from that bakery you love fer brekky with yer dad.”

“It’s okay, I will if you want. Please, Harry, go back to sleep. You were up late, you must have a headache from all of those drinks with Robbie. I dunno why you pair had to have a shots competition,” I insist, and my distraction makes a raspy laugh fall from his mouth.

“I like yer brotha, y’know, he’s a funny git,” he drawls, rubbing his hands down his face once before pulling back the covers. “Can I come? ‘ll be mo’ awake after I have a shower.”

“I dunno,” I nervously laugh, tucking a wet lock of hair behind my ear. Huffing, I smooth down the floral skirt of my dress and sit on the edge of my bed. Thoughts whizz around in my head, flying to that destination and the next, but this one isn’t sure where to go.

“If ya really don’t want me t’, ‘s okay. ‘m sorry t’ pressure ya, babe.”

“It’s okay, Harry. I’d like you to come, but . . I dunno,” I reveal, toying with the ring and starting at the corner of my eye, I watch his hands still my pair that wring each other.

“Don’t hafta tell me if ya don’t wanna, I trust you y’know.”

Nodding, I wonder how I had ever gotten so damn lucky with this one. A split second giggle tickles at my lips, and then the toying turns into twirling, and then, telling.

“She would’ve been eighty-five today, I think,” the whisper fights to make itself known, and I can’t meet his eyes, but I think I hear it in his breathing when he connects the dots. The spinning of the ring, and the tracing of the flower, frozen in time. “I bring her flowers every year, just wildflowers I find on the side of the road. I’ve wanted to bring a cupcake and sing before blowing it out, but it seemed odd to eat it sitting there, when she can’t,” I continue, the frog jumping into my throat at the end there.

His words are absent, but they’re the least bit of that and so is my surprise when my head meets his shoulder, and his fingers trickle through my hair.

“You don’t have to come with, if you don’t want to,” I pipe up, grabbing hold of the smooth chain around his neck. The swallows beckon for me, and I trace their wings slowly, wondering how silky they’d feel if they were alive on his chest.

“I’d like t’ come with, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, it’s more than okay,” I respond, my thumb and finger holding onto the cross when my arms go around his neck, and he lifts me onto his lap.

“I wish I coulda met her, yer Grandma Ann . . but bringin’ flowers t’ her grave sounds rather special too. Yer tha sweetest, Becks, y’know that?”

“So do I, she would’ve loved you,” I say, watching the tear glide down the slope of his back, and past the golden hairs lit by the sunrise behind the curtains.

“Does yer dad go with you?”

“Sometimes, maybe he will today.”

“‘d like that,” Harry coos, drawing the letters of my name, one by one, along my spine. I only know that because he’d told me last night when I couldn’t fall asleep, and he was happily buzzed.

I think that’s why I couldn’t, because how could my dreams beckon for me when my life was finally better than anything I could dream about?

“Ya mean it, tha best ever? In tha whole, entire history o’ birthdays, ever and ever?” they titter and its feeling against my cheek brings one forth onto my lips.

“You’re so silly, but yes. I had an amazing birthday, Harry. One to remember.”

“Good, bug. ‘m glad t’ hear. Only tha best fer me favourite girl,” he coos, dragging his nose along my cheek.

“Maybe next year for my birthday you can grow your hair out again for my birthday present.”

“Oh, really? That’s whatcha want? Hmm, I was thinkin’ o’ givin’ you a baby fer yer twenty-eighth,” he giggles, the rich smell of coffee hinting on his breath. Now, it’s my turn to giggle and I share it into his neck, our chests bumping when he pulls me closer. I steal a kiss from his swallow and nuzzle in deeper as he drapes the blanket his mum knitted for me over us, sinking further into his sofa.

“Stop it with the baby talk, marriage comes first, dumbo.”

“Fine then, ‘ll getchu a ring fer yer birthday,” he continues and I hide my reddening cheeks in the place between his shoulder and neck. Monica laughs at something on the TV behind us, but my focus darts to the melodic kisses he sponges along my neck, and his nose nudging at my shirt.

“Shush it, I’m not going anywhere,” I insist, revealing my scarlet cheeks to his smiling eyes.

“Better not, I dunno what ‘d do if ya did.”

“It’s a good thing neither of us have to worry about that, huh?” I return, tapping my finger on his nose. He nods and brushes his thumb under my eye where he often traces the imperfection that lives there.

“‘m lookin’ forward t’ mo’ weekends at yer Dad’s. It was loads o’ fun gettin’ t’ see where ya grew up, tha house ya grew up in, yer old schools, tha park at tha pond, and bloody hell, that night out back by tha bonfire,” he says, words falling into a sound of happiness. “I can’t remember tha last time I had so much Tequila. Fook, can that brotha o’ yers drink, and yer dad too. And that pizza yer dad made, ugh, ‘m gonna need anotha one o’ those soon. I miss playin’ board games so much like that, I see where ya get tha love o’ it from. I ‘specially loved playin’ on yer family piano with you, reckon we might make a good pair if we practice some mo’.”

Giggling, I agree with him as my fingers mingle with his necklace, “Yeah, it was a birthday to remember, that’s for sure.”

“Reckon so, and I couldn’t be gladder to hear that, bug. Remember last year’s wasn’t tha best, you’ve said. I hope they only get betta and betta, my love,” Harry croons, and I nod, sure that they will.

It all seems to be a hill that I get to climb by his side, but it’s the least bit tiring, and all the more exhilarating with every step that I take.

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landofmelodyandstars · 4 years

Text

DRV3 Gift Reactions Transcription.

These are transcriptions of the character’s gift reactions from drv3. Spoilers for Chapter 1 Danganronpa v3 below the cut.

Characters are listed in the same order as my posts with the proper screenshots of these reactions. Every new line of text is a new dialog box.

Assume that the reactions are from Chapter 1 unless specifically marked as otherwise. (Tbh I actually got the majority of this transcribed the other day, I was just waiting to sleep and recharge my energy to get and edit the post-chapter-1 screenshots I needed to finish it.)

I’ve only transcribed post-chapter-1 gift reactions that are significantly different--it can generally be safely assumed that Kaede’s name is simply replaced by Shuichi’s in places where it comes up.

My masterpost for gift reactions is here. My masterlist for all things danganronpa-related is here. (Just be warned as there may be whole game/series spoilers there depending on how far in the future you’re reading this.) The things here are transcribed exactly, including dropped words and typos, but they’ll still be marked with [sic] because I want to differentiate between the errors in the game and my own inability to type correctly.

~Shuichi Saihara~

Loved Gifts:

Kaede... thank you. I’ve never received something like this before. I’m so happy I... I don’t know what to say!

Ah? For me? Kaede...you’re amazing! How did you know I want this?

Liked Gifts:

Can I...really have this? Thank you, I’ll take good care of it. I’ll help soothe my anxiety as dark times like this.

I can tell that you put a lot of time and thought into this... Thank you. You giving me something this wonderful... I wish I could give you something in return.

Neutral Gifts:

Ah, do you like this kind of stuff, Kaede? I don’t really get it...but maybe I’ll learn to love it?

I didn’t know the academy had things like this... I wonder if this was prepared for us. If it was, they must have quite the budget... They can afford to have aesthetic items like this.

You’re...giving this to me? Thank you... I’ll cherish it.

Disliked Gifts:

Ah, um, I don’t think I can accept this... I do appreciate the thought, but... I’m sorry.

Ah...I don’t know... why you’d give me this... Ah! Is this a joke? S-Sorry, I don’t get it!

Hated Gift(s):

...I-I’m sorry... Even if it’s a gift from you, I can’t accept it. I’m really sorry... I know you’re just trying to make me happy...

But for you to give me something at a time like this, I... I can’t believe you’d do that. I can’t believe you’d be the kind of person who would do something so tasteless...

~Kokichi Oma~

Loved Gifts:

H-How do you have something this amazing, Kaede? Did you steal this!? The supreme leader of evil lost!? Grrrrr... Dammit! This pisses me off!

Hey, I’m surprised you had something so interesting on you, Kaede. But if you think something like this would make me happy, you got another thing coming! ...Just kidding. Thank you.

Liked Gifts:

This is a pretty decent present, Kaede. Are you starting to get me now? It feels good to know that you thought long and hard about what tribute to give me.

Hmm...I guess this isn’t *that* boring. You have pretty good taste, Kaede. Well, not as good as mine. I’ll surprise you with a gift one of these days, Kaede!

Woooah! This is niiiice! I’ve always wanted something like this! By the way, that’s not a lie, ‘kay? Don’t worry, I’m actually happy.

Neutral Gifts:

Hm, for me? I’ll take it, but... You’re not getting any thanks from me, buddy! Well, I might repay your kindness...with tricks. Since I *am* the supreme leader of evil.

How do I put this nicely... Well...it’s not bad, but it’s not good either... And by that, I mean it’s bad.

Disliked Gifts:

Wooooow, this is just aaaawful! It’s soooo boring that it’s funny! Um, I don’t really want this. Toss it somewhere else.

Um...why would you think I’d like this? You have pretty bad taste, Kaede. I thought we were of one heart and soul.

*sigh* ...You disappoint me. I thought you would’ve made it more fun for me, Kaede. Or are you hinting that I should make it fun for you instead?

Hated Gift(s):

I...I didn’t know you hated me that much, Kaede... WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! Even if you do hate me, this is going too far! Well, at least this isn’t boring... But you gotta make it up to me later, ‘kay?

~Kaito Momota~

Loved Gifts:

A-Are you serious!? I didn’t think you could even find this around here! Kaede...this makes me so happy! Gimme a hug!

Oh, nice! This gift’s a real bullseye! Your thoughts hit me dead center! Alright! Since you gave it to me, I’ll teach you all about this thing!

Liked Gifts:

Are you giving this to me? Haha, you know me so well! Alright! As thanks for this cool gift, I’ll tell you a cool story!

Oh, that’s pretty interesting. This is almost the perfect gift for a Luminary of the Stars! You’re on the right path.

Neutral Gifts:

You’ve got a bunch of stuff, huh? You’re not just trying to unload some garbage on me, right?

Huh? What’s this? Where’d you get it? Well, if it’s a gift from you, then I’ll totally accept it.

Disliked Gifts:

Are you kidding me? What am I supposed to do with this? What’s up with you? This isn’t like you, man!

Did you really think I’d like something like this? C’mon, man... Are you making fun of me? Nah you wouldn’t, but...

Hated Gift(s):

Hey...we can still pretend it was just a joke, so put that away.

H-Hold up...don’t put that near me. You got it? Why do you even have such a weird think!? Toss it in the garbage!

~Rantaro Amami~

Loved Gifts:

Did you...get me this because you thought it’d make me happy? I guess you thought I’d like this kind of thing, based on how I dress. Haha... Well, ah, thanks anyway.

Now *this* I like. I knew you had good taste, Kaede. I can learn from you.

Liked Gifts:

You’ve got something pretty interesting there. Where did you find it? Oh, you’re giving it to me? A present? That’s so sweet. You’re being so nice to a guy that doesn’t even know his own talent...

But this looks really valuable. Are you sure you want me to have it? I’ll get you something special one day too. I have some pretty rare things myself.

Neutral Gifts:

I always get butterflies in my tummy when people give me gifts. Thank you. Is there anything you want, Kaede? I want to give you something in return.

Wow, they even have stuff like this here? This place gets weirder and weirder. Don’t you think it’s odd? That you would find this stuff here?

Oh...for me? No no, it’s not that I don’t like it... Just the thought makes me happy, Kaede.

Disliked Gifts:

Really? You’re giving this to me? Kaede, you have...unique taste. I never expected this from you.

Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but maybe there’s someone else who would enjoy it more? I think you should give this to someone who can really appreciate it.

Hated Gift(s):

Haha...my, this is a pretty dark gift. You look like a sunny and cheerful girl, but I guess there’s a dark side to ya.

~Gonta Gokuhara~

Loved Gifts:

Oh wow... Gonta think bug friends will like this. Kaede like bugs, too? Gonta so happy!

Gentlemen wear small trinkets... Gonta must remember that. Gonta still not used to gentleman clothes... This very helpful, Kaede!

Liked Gifts:

Ummm... But real gentleman say nice thing. Then gentleman give gift, too... Gonta not real gentleman yes, huh...? Someday Gonta give Kaede nice gift!

What? For Gonta? Thank you, Kaede! Gonta not get gifts often... Gonta happy! Very very happy!

Neutral Gifts:

Hmmm... Gonta not know stuff like this exist. Thanks for showing Gonta, Kaede!

For Gonta? Thank you! Gonta treasure it always. How that? Gonta show gentleman gratitude okay?

Hmmm...Kaede like this kinda stuff? Gonta think he understand now. Gonta try hard to appreciate gift.

Disliked Gifts:

Ummm... Sorry. Gonta not sure what to do with this. Gonta know Kaede mean well... Gonta so pathetic!

K-Kaede... You...hate Gonta!? Oh, G-Gonta wrong? Gonta just not understand.

Hated Gift(s):

Kaede...no can give gift like this! Is not proper! O-Or...d-does Kaede...hate...Gonta? G-Gonta...*sniffle*...so sad!

Oh, sorry... This sorta thing give Gonta bad memories... Gonta hope Kaede not feel bad now... Gonta really sorry!

~K1-B0~

Loved Gifts:

Kaede... Thank you very much. I am humbled by your generosity. Did you give me this simply because I am a robot? I will report you robophobic actions.

This is...quite a practical gift. Thank you. Please don’t get the wrong impression... I’m happy because this gift is so practical. Under different circumstances, this gift could be considered robophobia.

Liked Gifts:

This is...quite a fascinating item! Are you sure I can have it? I wish I could give you something in return, but I have nothing to give... I’m sorry.

...A toy? Is this your way of bringing me a friend? Do you see me a toy[sic], too? I’d prefer not to be compared to this toy...but as far as toys go, I guess it’s kind of cute.

This is nice. It aligns with my preferences. You understand me... I feel...happy.

Neutral Gifts:

...I’m sorry. I cannot see myself ever developing an interest in this. Should I feign happiness in this situation? That seems illogical to me...

A present from Kaede... There, I’ve finished saving a backup copy of this memory. I hope to repay your kindness one day.

Disliked Gifts:

I’m sorry. I can’t do anything with food or beverages except stare at them... I this kind of gift is wasted on me. You should probably give it to someone else.

... ... I’m sorry. I was calculating the appropriate response to a situation like this.

...I don’t know how to react to being given a gift like this. It would be insincere of me to just accept this gifts, so I must politely decline it.

Hated Gift(s):

Wh-What’s wrong with you!? Why would you give me a gift like this!? This isn’t some kind of robophobic microaggression, is it!?

~Ryoma Hoshi~

Loved Gifts:

Hmph...not bad at all. Sometimes, even I want to feel happy ...so I’ll accept this. Thanks.

If you’re giving me this... you really get me, huh? I don’t hve anything to give you, is that okay? Hmph...you’re strange.

Liked Gifts:

Hmph...nothing good will come from making me happy, you know? Sorry I can’t show how happy I am... I really am grateful for this gift.

Oh...you’ve got good taste. I hope I can return the favor. But I’m not great at giving gifts.

Neutral Gifts:

Hmph...you’re giving this to me? What’s the meaning of this? Well, whatever. I guess you didn’t mean anything bad by it.

Huh? You seemed like the conscientious type, but did I misjudge you? Well...I guess having a side like that is just part of your charm, huh?

Giving me a gift... You’re a strange one. I...appreciate the thought.

Disliked Gifts:

Exactly what sort of reaction were you expecting from me? Sorry, but I’m not a fan of joke gifts.

That’s just not cool... I thought you’d have better taste than that. Hmph...I don’t have anything to say to a gift like that.

Hated Gift(s):

I won’t make a scene about this insult...but I’ll remember it. Even if someone’s not a good person, you can’t just be rude like that...

You’re giving that to me? What’s you game...? I’m not sure it you’re being a punk or just nosy, but I’m not accepting that.

~Korekiyo Shinguji~

Loved Gifts:

This is...! Kaede, where on Earth did you find such a thing!? Ooh...I never dreamed of encounter such a splendid item here.

To have brought this to me... You truly have an eye for treasures. Kehehe...what a wonderful woman you are. I have no complains with this. If you’d like, I can tell you this item’s history. Are you interested?

Loved Gifts (post chapter 1):

To have brought this to me... You truly have an eye for treasures. If you’d like, I can tell you this item’s history. Are you interested?

Liked Gifts:

I may have this? Kehehe...much appreciated. You enjoy giving gifts? Perhaps we can discuss cultural gift giving practices.

This is a fine gift... It almost makes me sorry to be the receiving it. I would like to at least tell you some stories in return. Which one though...?

Neutral Gifts:

Kehehe...did you think giving me this would make me happy? Interesting... It would appear you don’t yet know me well enough.

The desire to do something for someone. I understand it well. But is it not necessary to consider what will make that person happy?

Disliked Gifts:

Honestly, I cannot understand your reasons for giving me this. Do tell...what were your intentions giving me this?

Hmm...even if your[sic] have poor taste, that is beautiful too... Not everyone shares the same preferences. Do keep that in mind.

Hated Gift(s):

I cannot accept this. Are you taking the occult lightly?

~Kaede Akamatsu~

Loved Gifts:

Shuichi...I’m just so ecstatic! I thought I had been the only one looking at you, but I guess you’ve noticed me, too. I think that, because... you gave me such a pretty gift.

Whoa! Can I really have this!? Thanks, I’m so happy right now! You really know what makes me smile, Shuichi. But, I guess *you* would know what I like!

Liked Gifts:

Oh! I was just thinking about getting one of these! I can’t believe you already know what I like, even though we just met... Well, that’s a detective for ya!

I really like these kinda of things. Do you enjoy them too, Shuichi? It would make me a bit happier to know we like the same things. Oh, god... I think I said something embarrassing just now.

Neutral Gifts:

Hmm...so you like these kinds of things, Shuichi. I’ll remember that. Someday, I’ll give you a present, too... Oh, I don’t mean it in a weird way. It’s to return the favor, okay?

I see... You carry these things around, huh, Shuichi? How did you find them in this academy? Or did you have them before you came here?

Disliked Gifts:

Umm... Your taste is...unique... Oh, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. If you like it, then that’s your choice.

Umm...I’m sorta curious why you chose to give this to me... I don’t hate it. Well...I’m actually happy!

Hated Gift(s):

This isn’t okay, Shuichi...Even if it’s a joke, there are some things you shouldn’t do. If we weren’t in such a weird situation, I might be able to laugh it off.

~Maki Harukawa~

Loved Gifts:

Is this for me...? Hmm... ...Huh, do I look mad? I may not show it, but I’m actually pretty happy.

...Thank you. I’ll cherish this. Why are you surprised? I got something I like, so of course I’m going to thank you for it.

Liked Gifts:

Hmm... You must not worry a lot if you’re giving presents in a situation like this... ...Well, it’s not like I mind. I’ll take it.

This is...something you should give to a child. You shouldn’t give this to someone my age. Well...when we get out of here, I’ll give it to the kids. That’s why you gave it to me, right?

Neutral Gifts:

...You have surprisingly bad taste. If you don’t want it, then I don’t mind keeping it.

I see... You’re giving it to me. What? Did you think I would be excited? Sorry, but I don’t intend to give empty thanks because of social obligations.

I don’t think it’s bad to give presents after spending time... But you should really think about the present first before giving it, don’t you think?

Disliked Gifts:

What is this...? Where did you even get this thing? It’s for me? Why would you even thing about giving this to me?

Wait... I’m going to stop you right now if you plan to give me something I don’t want. ...Am I wrong? That’s a joke, right?

Hated Gift(s):

... Sorry, but I don’t need this.

~Miu Iruma~

Loved Gifts:

Wh-What? How did you know I’ve wanted this? D-Don’t tell me...you’re that into me... Naturally, a flat-chested idiot like you would fall for a brainy, busty, beauty like me!

Wha—! I-I’ve...wanted this...so bad... I took you for an idiot, Kaediot, but it turns out you’re actually pretty useful! Heh, I could give you one of my inventions as a show of gratitude!

Loved Gifts (post-chapter-1):

Wh-What? How did you know I’ve wanted this? D-Don’t tell me...you’re that into me... Well, I guess a perma-virgin like you can’t help but think about[sic] all day long!

Wha—! I-I’ve...wanted this...so bad... Not bad, perma-virgin! When are ya plannin’s to slip some fliff between these big ol’ titties!? Well, if you’re tugging it to me every day, I guess I can let the slide!

Liked Gifts:

Damn, Kaediot! You actually brought me somethin’ nice! Alright, I’ll show you an invention of mine! I bet you’re so thankful, you’re about to cry! Huh? Y-You’re not interested? Whyyyy?

Whoa! I’ve wanted this for a while! I never expected you to have it, Kaediot! Why didn’t you give it to me sooner!? Geez, you just wasted my precious time!

Neutral Gifts:

What the hell were you thinkin’ givin’ this to me!? Do you have any how[sic] valuable my time is!?

Hm? What’s this? I mean, I guess I’ll take it... This is what you’re givin’ to me lovely self? I figured you for a fuckn’ idiot, but...

Hmmm... Well, I could probably use it for my invention so I guess I’ll take it. What, you want me to thank you? You should be thankin’ me for takin’ it off you hands!

Disliked Gifts:

Huh!? You’re givin’ this to me? You really are an idiot, aren’tcha!? I was right to start callin’ you “Kaediot”!

Maaaaaan! I’m startin’ to feel sorry for ya! Cuz, well...look at me! I’m beautiful, brainy, busty... You’re just a flat-chested Plain Jane who knows jack shit about proper gift-giving!

Disliked Gifts (post-chapter-1):

Huh!? You’re givin’ this to me? You really are a piece of shit, aren’tcha!? I was right to start callin’ you “Pooichi”!

Maaaaaan! I’m startin’ to feel sorry for ya! Cuz, well...look at me! I’m beautiful, brainy, busty... You’re just a perma-virgin with a stupid hat who knows jack shit about proper gift-giving!

Hated Gift(s):

Huh...? Do you really hate me that much? Why else would you give this to me? N-No way...

~Tenko Chabashira~

Loved Gifts:

K-Kaede, what a wonderful gift! Truly, only girst understand other girls’ delicate hearts! It’d be great if I can thank you in some way... How about I teach you a Neo-Aikido move!?

Thank you very much, Kaede! You understand me so well! This is making me too happy! It’s making me blush!

Loved Gifts (post-chapter-1):

Even though you’re a male, you made me happy... I feel like I lost! I’m annoyed, so I’m gonna throw you! Then we’ll be even!

You gave me exactly what I needed... Shuichi, do you understand the way of Neo-Aikido, too!? Then maybe I can smash your body onto the floor with a Neo-Aikido move!

Liked Gifts:

Wow! Amazing, Kaede! This is a wonderful gift! It’s probably because you’re a pianist that you know how to pick gifts! Please teach me!

What!? Y-You’re giving this to me!? Wow, I’m so happy! Thank you so much!

Liked Gifts (post-chapter-1):

Urgh... Not bad, Shuichi! You actually made me really happy! But don’t assume you can appease me! Girls are not that simple!

Even though you’re a male, you gave a gift that would make someone happy! But, I’m not so easy to overcome with just this! Please don’t underestimate me!

Neutral Gifts:

It’s so nice of you to bring me a gift, Kaede! But, of course a girl would! Oh no! I didn’t bring you anything! I-I’m so sorry!

Woah! I didn’t know there was something like this as school! Where’d you find it, Kaede? I wish I could give something in return... Would you like to see some Neo-Aikido instead!?

Huh, a present? Th-Thank you so much! I’m sorry I can’t understand the value of this gift, but your good feelings have reached me!

Neutral Gifts (post-chapter-1):

I don’t know what you’re thinking, Shuichi. So I guess I can stay and listen to you! Girls are not merciless enough to send someone away after they gave a gift!

O-Oh, is this for me...? This gift didn’t do any wrong, so I’ll take it... But even though you’re a detective, you’re still a make who ca’t understand girls’ feelings!

There must be an ulterior motive when a degenerate male gives a gift to a girl... So that’s why I’ll take this. It’s better than you giving it to Himiko or the other girls!

Disliked Gifts:

Kaede, you have an...um...unique taste. Well, you’re a pianist so... Do you feel like you were a bit too sheltered and it affected your taste in things?

I-I wasn’t aware that there would be such a huge difference in sensitivity between girls! Well, I’m not denying your taste... But I think I’ll pass on this...

Disliked Gifts (post-chapter-1):

... Sorry, I’m just surprised how bad this gift is *even* for a degenerate! I assume you want me to throw you across the room, right, Shuichi!?

Huuuuh? What do you want me to do with something like this? Did you think I would be happy? You completely underestimate me! Now, I’m gonna throw you!

Hated Gift(s):

I’m not too sure about this, Kaede... I don’t really wanna say it... But the thought of you handing this to someone else... Well, it makes my heart hurt...

Kaede! What’s going on here!? Did those degenerate males influence you to be vulgar and insensitive!? I will teach you Neo-Aikido then! You mind will become calm!

Hated Gift(s) (post-chapter-1):

...It seems you want to be punished. Got anything to say? You may say only one word.

~Himiko Yumeno~

Loved Gifts:

Oooh...you clearly know what’s important for a mage. Hm, as thanks I’ll show you some of my magic.

Oooh...this is it. The item I needed. Not bad. Please bring me more stuff to increase me magic stat.

Liked Gifts:

You must have used a “Find Himiko A Good Gift” spell. Hm, well done. I don’t mind you giving me more stuff from now on.

Hmm...yes, this will do. Now my MP can recover. Well, it’s still not enough to power a big spell...

Neutral Gifts:

Hm...offerings for the mighty Himiko... Yes, this will do. This thing has no magic. A gift for a mage should be magical, y’know?

Hm? What that for me? I didn’t realize. If you can’t give proper gifts, you’ll have a lot of trouble in life.

Nyeh... For me? Sorry, but saying thanks is too much work...

Disliked Gifts:

... Nyeeeh...I’m at a loss. What are you thinking giving me something like this?

Nyeeeh... I don’t want it. I don’t know what you want, but put that away already.

Hated Gift(s):

Are you bullying me? You’re bullying me cuz no one else is around, huh? I wanna turn you into a lowly worm with my magic.

~Kirumi Tojo~

Loved Gifts:

Will there be duties where I must use this? Then I will accept it, by all means. Am I mistaken? In that case, I will use this to aid you. Shall we begin then?

I never told you I needed this, but... Is it truly alright for me to have this? Thank you. This will help me immensely. If I use this, this can help everyone as well.

Liked Gifts:

Even though I am here to serve you, I cannot believe I received such a great gift. The only way I can return the favor is to serve as you maid... Is that alright with you?

It seems I do not have to give you any advice on how to select the right gift. You have made me...incredibly happy.

Neutral Gifts:

You wish you give this to me, correct? I understand. I will treasure it. I do not want you to misunderstand... ...but, I am grateful that you have chosen a gift just for me.

Are you asking me to throw this away? I understand. Leave it to me. Am I wrong? Please accept my apology. I failed as a maid to understand your goodwill.

I see...so you are giving this to me. I have been asked if I wanted a present before, but this is a surprise. Thank you.

Disliked Gifts:

Kaede... if you do not know which gift to select, then please ask me. I will teach you how to choose the best present and the most optimal way to deliver them.

I am not impressed with the kind of gifts you choose for people. If you order me to throw it away, then that would be far more efficient.

Hated Gift(s):

Kaede... Even if it is a prank, it is not nice to give people these kinds of gifts. I never imagined you would do such a thing...

~Angie Yonaga~

Loved Gifts:

Ohhhh! How divine of you, Kaede! Nyahaha! My cup runneth over with gratitude!

This is it! This is what I’ve been after! How did you know, Kaede? Did Atua speak to you?

Liked Gifts:

I see, I see... Kaede, you know how Angie is feeling today. With all the offering’s you’ve brought me, Angie[sic] must be having lots of fun. I will be happy.

Oh, I see... This offering will earn Atua’s favor somewhat, Kaede. I will pray to Atua for you, Karde, so that you may become a gold member someday.

Neutral Gifts:

Do you think this is a divine relic, Kaede? I don’t really see it. But Atua says you have decent taste. Good for you, Kaede.

The academy has mysterious miracles like this? This can only be a blessing from Atua.

Hmmm, is this your offering Kaede? This is a decent effort. Atua is watching your devotion closely.

Disliked Gifts:

Atua has spoken... Such an offering is unacceptable. Kaede, I think this offering will offend Atua. I know I’m certainly disappointed.

Hmm? What’s wrong, Kaede? Are you sad because you can’ hear Atua’s voice? It’s okay; I’ll tell you what He’s saying. You don’t need to worry about a thing. Oh, you can just throw that offering away.

Hated Gift(s):

Kaede... Atua will forgive you if you ask. Come, let’s pray together for His forgiveness. Or else...Atua will curse you for your next six lifetimes.

~Tsumugi Shirogane~

Loved Gifts:

What!? I can have this!? Really!? I mean...no one else here can even appreciate this like I can!

You’d give this...to me...? Thank you! Thank you so much! Those are the only words I can say!

Liked Gifts:

Oh, this...it’s from that one show, right? I knew it! Huh...? You don’t know what I’m talking about? Waaah! I must’ve misunderstood... I thought you know it, Kaede...

Huh, there was something like this here? Are you sure I can have it? Thanks, it was plain to see I was stressed, but this helped me calm down.

Neutral Gifts:

Umm...it seems out tastes just don’t match that well. Oh, I’m not ungrateful. Even between otaku, likes and dislikes can be completely different.

I know that you’re trying to say. This plain item’s good for plain old me. Just kidding... I know you didn’t mean that. It’s just a joke, okay?

Hmm...well, things like this aren’t bad. Do you like stuff like this, Kaede? Why did you choose it? I’m curious about other people’s tastes.

Disliked Gifts:

Sorry, but...I don’t have any good references for a weird thing like this. I’m just a plain, boring girl. You know that, right Kaede?

Umm...I don’t really get it. Why are you giving this to me? Fine then. This...means war. Is that what you wanted me to say?

Hated Gift(s):

Is this some sort of bad joke? I don’t know what to say... Sorry...I think I don’t feel well. I’m gonna go put some ice on my head, so can you give me some space?

Anyway, thanks for reading! I plan on doing more Danganronpa-related stuff in the future, primarily collecting the flavor text for all the free times when you initially talk to the characters.

That’ll take me awhile, though, so in the meantime I might actually get around to talking about things in v3 that I’ve been wanting to talk about but haven’t had much of a place to talk about. Like a post discussing character design in Danganronpa that I mentioned wanting to do somewhere in this chain of semi-organized information.

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emotionalcello-makefanfics · 4 years

Link

Sequel to That Body = Absolute Unit and Aaron is a Cute Name

Summary :

*in DJ Khaled voice* Another one! Longer! Even less plot! I don't even know how to explain this one.

Chris and Aaron are now boyfriends. The couple is meeting each other's family. It doesn't go perfectly, and Chris is doing dumbass ways to fix that. With a side story of Chris freaking out because Aaron is giving him weeks of radio silence.

This is chapter 1 Out of 7, please red the rest at AO3

Words: 3.9 k

Anyone seeing him now would’ve thought he snoops into the evidence room and snorts all the cocaine they just raided. No, nothing like that, it’s something better. Chris is coming over to Virginia for a Christmas party at Rossi’s! That’s not all... He’ll be going as Hotch’s official boyfriend!

He’s both nervous and excited. He’s excited because he’s coming over to his favorite author’s home and have a legit Christmas party. Not some half-assed office party that’s there to keep the spirit up and 95% work anyway. Yet he’s nervous because Aaron’s coworkers are equivalent to his family, which means that Chris is coming over to ‘meet the family.’ That’s like the next step of a relationship, right?

It totally is! This means Chris can either be that ‘weird boyfriend’ that the family doesn’t bother to get to know about because they’re so sure they’re going to break up soon. OR, Chris can be so boyfriend/family material that’s so sweet so fun so snatched that is practically treated like family. Chris will be the latter as if his life depends on it. Aaron’s people are the coolest people on earth because they’re sweet, hot, hard-working, literal FBI agents, and most of all, they’re Aaron’s family.

Chris got himself ready for the party. He did yoga 4 times a week than the usual twice a week. He games up his skincare routine and he’s burning through his sheet masks. He trimmed his hair. Manicured his nails. His skin is glowing. The body is healthy. This year’s leave secured for the taking.

He’s never been this prepared in his entire life. Can’t wait to get to know the people closest to his darling beautiful lovely bf. It’s going to be so much fun.

“Hee hee hee hee hee.”

“Sweet Jesus, Chris, why are you the drug dealer from down the street this whole day?” Even Peralta’s jokes can’t get to him today.

“Chris is spending Christmas with his new man.” Haily answer for him because Chris is hyper-focused on his papers.

Chris is vibrating with excitement that he can’t even do his reports smoothly, but he’ll be damned if everything is not perfect by his holiday leave. Of course, they’re not having a Christmas party at the actual Christmas time. Work and all, especially’s Hotch’s work.

And he’s aware that there’s a good possibility that they may cancel it due to a case.

So, he needs to chill. The more he looks forward to it, the more he’ll be disappointed if it gets canceled. Be cool. Be chill. Whatever will be, will be. Namaste. All that shit.

“Look at what you’ve done!” Haily reprimands, slapping Jake at the back of his head.

“Ow, what did I do?!”

“You deflated him!”

“I shouldn’t get too excited, they can cancel the party if there’s a case,” Chris finally put his head out of his dreamy bubble, seeing Jake and Haily about to square up.

“We have a party here Chris! What’s better than having Christmas with your office family?” Jake paused as Haily raised her eyebrows at him. “Except maybe a private party in a crime author’s fancy house filled with FBI agents. Dammit, no I’m not jealous!” Jake points at him, in both denial and assertiveness, talking to himself. Yup, that is the face of the precinct best detective.

“I am attending the office party. I wouldn’t miss the dumpster fire for the world.”

“Our Christmas party is not always a dumpster fire!” Chris and Haily give him a look and Jake quickly folds. “Okay maybe it is, but it’s our signature!”

.-.-.-.-.

The day of the precinct's Christmas dumpster fire finally arrived. Like every year, his floor has a secret Santa event, though not everyone joined. When they’re close to clocking out, they reveal each other’s secret Santa.

“Hey, Ginnie Gina.” Chris struts over to Gina’s desk right outside of the Captain’s office. As usual, the Captain’s assistant has her feet up the desk and phone in hand. “I’m your secret Santa.”

“AH, maybe there is God. I thought my Santa was Scully and I was not gonna let it see the light of day.” She then – in the most casual way – reach out to a saw blade blending into the clutter on her desk and put it under her drawer.

“Gimme!”

Chris gave his present with ease knowing it won’t fall victim to the saw blade. Gina’s Christmas colored acrylic nails dig and tears the red wrapping and voila! Creme de La Mer. Yes, that La Mer bitch, because Chris ain’t playin’ with presents.

“I swear to God Chris you’re the only salvation of this earth. I would kiss you if I’m not wearing my Christian Louboutin lip gloss right now.”

“You’re welcome.” Gina gave him an air kiss and Chris catches it. “Pray for my gift!”

“I will, love!”

That kiss must’ve been a curse because Chris got Scully as secret Santa. And his gift is a frozen pizza box with a slice missing and wrapped with worn an XXXXL hoodie with vaguely red and brown stains. Gracefully, Chris gives the pizza back to him and Scully lights up at the offer of his own food back at him.

Then nightshift rolls in, turns out they have a secret Santa event of their own. Chris then looks away when he noticed disappointments are brewing to a fight.

He goes back to his desk, finishing up before his nightshift desk buddy came. In the middle of finishing up his report, a phone call stops him from finishing up. Aaron!

The office starts to get noisy with shenanigans, greetings, and a new perp yelling out to let him go. He slips out to the roof, and the noise quiets down as if they’re far away.

“Hey, sugar,” Chris says as he walks to the furthest side of the roof.

“Hi, how’s secret Santa?” Aaron doesn’t sound so hot, maybe he’s just worn out a bit.

“I got the short end of the stick, but the shock and awe factor overcame my disappointment because it is kinda funny.”

“What did you get?”

“A frozen pizza box with a slice missing and his worn clothes that smells like pizza sauce and sweat. I think he just wrapped his dinner with the clothes he was wearing.”

Aaron chuckles, and Chris bites off his smile. They’ve only been dating for a few months but that chuckle still packs some damage on him.

“I’m sorry it didn’t go well.”

“It’s going better than last year at least. No one is getting into a fistfight with their secret Santa.”

“That’s good, and Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas! Where are you right now?”

“Case at Florida.”

“Aw, that sucks. You won't see the present I gave you to your office then.”

“I’ll open it as soon as I arrive. Are you still at the precinct?”

“Yeah, about to tidy up. I’m clocking out in an hour.”

“Good, my gift should be at your office by now.”

“Wait really??” Chris looks back to look at the desk from the windows. Probably still on the front desk. “D’waw! Thank you, I’m gonna ask the front desk if it’s here.” Chris goes back inside. “Are you at a hotel? Taking a break?”

“No, I’m still at the police station.”

Huh, that’s weird. Aaron never calls when he’s still on the job. Maybe after the team retires at their hotel, but never when they’re still at the police station. Chris stops by the door and gulped.

“Is everything okay?”

“I hope so, we’ve done all that we can.” Oh, Chris knows that tone of voice. Chris knows that hopeless feeling when all he can do is wait.

“I bet you do and more. I wish you guys are not too hard on yourselves.”

“I don’t think that can be helped,” Aaron resigned, and Chris also feels there’s nothing he can do, but lend an ear.

Actually, Chris can do one thing, “When you come home, we’ll meet up, promise.”

“I’ll need that. Your secret Santa fail helps too.”

“Then I’m glad I’m getting frozen pizzas for Christmas.”

“I hope my present can make you feel better.”

“Oh yeah! That.”

Chris has been standing like a dumbass in front of the rooftop door when he heard Aaron’s voice mellowed. Now that he’s in front of his desk, he sees his present. A big box that takes over the free space on his desk, sitting there as it looms a bit over him.

“Oooh, ominously big, I wonder what’s insiiide,” Chris sings as he presses his phone between his cheek and shoulder so his hands have their full tearing capacity. He puts the box down first before tearing, revealing a pink plain box.

Inside the big pink box is – he can’t believe it – a plushie version of the clay cat he had that reminded him of Rosco. Chris’s jaw hits the floor as he pulls it up and stares at it. Like the clay, it’s egg-shaped, has a condescending expression, but the markings are more accurate than the clay cat. The only thing not accurate is the size. It’s big and tall, and thicc with 10 c’s.

Chris inhaled deeply, ready to scream before he whined instead, remembering he’s still in the office.

“Aaaaaaaa,” He whispered the scream – somehow – hugging the cat that’s at least a meter in diameter. It’s a very thick plushie and he LOVES it as if the bitch herself (still talking about the cat) erected from the dead. “HOW! What???? I... This is... Frick! Aaron, I could kiss you right now!”

“I’m glad you like my gifts,” Chris can hear the smile through Aaron’s voice.

“Gifts? As in multiple???”

“You must’ve missed the board game.”

There’s Betrayal at The House on The Hill board games resting at the bottom of the box. It’s the board game he’s been wanting ever since he saw it on Smosh Board AF! Everyone has been wanting to play it.

“Oh, man this is great! I think I mentioned this ages ago.” Chris hugs it to his chest and makes the most disgusting lovey-dovey face. “You remembered!”

“I ordered it the second you mentioned it. I wanted to give it to you on your birthday but I figured it’ll be appropriate for Christmas so you can play it with everyone.”

“Yeah totally! Hey guys! Look at what Aaron gave me!” Chris flaunts his board games in the air and catches a few attention.

“That’s one big cat,” Haily said her long blond hair sway as she leans to the side and looks, totally missing the point, but still valid because Chris can’t even circle this plushy with two arms.

“Well, yeah, but look at the board game!”

“Whoa cool! Betrayal at The House on The Hill?” Jake came over with Rosa. “Amy! I found a board game I can beat you at!”

“Not a chance Jake, stop being salty over Bang.” Rosa claps back stoically.

“Ooh, did Hotch gave you that?” Santiago walks over.

“Yeah! We can play it in today’s after-party at my place!”

“Thanks, Hotch!” Jake says that soon followed with a few thanks from Haily, Rosa, and Amy. On the other end, he hears Aaron chuckles.

“You’re welcome.”

“He says you’re welcome. Yall tidy up cmon! Let’s ditch this dump. Get the captain.”

They all scatter over to their desks as Chris put the doll back to the box.

“Thank you for the doll, also the board game. I love them all!” Chris puts the plushy back to the box. “Don’t forget to open mine as soon as you get back!”

“I won’t miss it for the world.”

++++

When the team comes back, the sighs and long faces disappear at the sight holographic ribbons, red and gold wrappings on a box as tall as a small child inside Hotch’s office, sitting on his desk.

“What is that,” Blake says.

“I assume that’s a gift from my boyfriend,” Hotch finds his smile again. The blinding holo ribbons are so sore to the eyes than he thinks of nothing else than what’s inside.

“Today doesn’t turn out as we had hoped, but we’ve done the best we can. Get home and rest. If any of you need a leave tomorrow, tell me first thing in the morning. Merry Christmas.”

The team gave him a collective Merry Christmas before dropping or grabbing something from their desk and tidy up.

Hotch needs to get a few papers ready, while he’s here, but all he wanted to do is open his present. The last time he felt like this was when he was a kid waiting for his birthday to come. No one else is here since it’s way past office hour, so he takes this time to open his present.

As soon as he drops his go bag, he cuts up the ribbon and tries to keep the wrappings intact so he can keep it.

To his absolute surprise, the box is roughly as big as what he gave Chris. When he opens it, from what he can see, there are a few items in there. To his relieve the box is only half-filled. The one he noticed is a thick blanket that takes up half of the box. A folded deep blue pajamas. A journal for the next year with black leather cover. A book called Black Beauty, a classic that Aaron never read before.

He touches the blanket first, and it was the softest fabric he ever touched. Taking out the present one by one, he found a slip of envelope between the blanket and the pajamas.

Inside is a Christmas card from Chris.

‘Merry Christmas Aaron!!

I know what you’re thinking, “What is inside that big thick box.” Sorry to disappoint it’s only half-filled. I was confident that I can and WILL fill it but in the end, I just ran out of ideas. I know it’s still a lot, and to tell you the truth I am overcompensating... but best believe that every item is chosen with love. Except for the journal, it’s MADE with love.

I had a lot of ideas but then a lot doesn’t make it because... I’ll list the scratched-out things so you can judge. A bbq grill. A shovel. Phone casing with those jiggly animal characters on it. Moonshine. Wine. Scotch. Many other exotic alcohols. Weed at some point. Sunscreen. Moisturizer. Eye cream. Eye serum. Eye mask. (I love the look on you but it looks so heavy I just want to lighten the burden and it’ll feel so good and soothing, call me if you change your mind, I’ll make your skin feels so good! Like a spa day! Ooh, let’s have a spa day. Anyway.) A custom calender of puppies. A real live puppy. A plushie puppy. Snacks box subscription from Japan. Snacks box subscription from South Korea. Cloud slime. Stress balls. Me in a box (I wanted to put myself in a box and be your Santa then soon realized how dumb it is.) Me but in BAU ft flowers and a Santa outfit. Me but in bed wearing a Santa outfit. Me in bed but in a Mrs. Klaus outfit.

The last ones are very lazy (and weird) because I ran out of ideas. So, aren’t we glad that none of those are your presents!

So you understand why I choose what I choose. The blanket is so soft! And so is the pajamas. They have a variety of pajamas where it has all the color of the rainbow, but I don’t have the heart to put you through that. I hope deep blue isn’t too much of a daring color for you, (jk, you can pull off any color you sexy beast.) I want to dump this and start over after I wrote that but this is my fifth card and the last out of the bulk I bought so... You just have to deal with being a sexy beast. I know... the horror!

The book is so wholesome! It’s different from your usual non-fiction. But like, I just put it in there if you need something to read.

Oh, and I hope you like the planner journal. The inside is nothing like the outside ;) I think it’s so you!

Text me if you get my present! Merry Christmas!

P.S. I know this is a lot and you’re the type that said you don’t want anything and means it. I won’t give you this much next year, but I’m gonna level up my gift-giving game... you’ll see.

P.P.S. I’m joking about this being my 5th card. It’s my 11th. I keep adding stuff that’s not in my draft and ended up cringing at it. It’s funny though. I would read to you if you’re interested.'

Aaron finds himself smiling the entire time he reads the letter even though it ended on an ominous note. He laughed at all the gift ideas. He didn’t know what cloud slime is.

He opens the journal with black leather cover, and the inside is a stark difference from the cover. It’s still meticulous, functional, and tightly tidy with its format. But the icons are flowers and cute animals. The papers are colored warm light brown and other earthy tones. The decorations throughout the planner are minimalistic drawings of decorative plants, flowers, and cute animals.

Though it was random items, all of them are thoughtful gifts. Thankfully Aaron hasn’t bought a book planner for next year. Aaron is also intrigued by the book because Chris doesn’t read a lot of books. More of a watcher than a reader he said. So when Chris recommends a book, it does perk his curiosity at what Chris count as interesting.

Sadly, the blanket would receive less love than all. Simply because Aaron rarely sleeps at his own bed because of cases. He can’t believe he’s genuinely feeling sad for not being able to sleep on his bed a lot because he won't feel the blanket as often. To be fair, it really is soft. The pajamas, however, are perfect. He can put that in the go-bag.

Just like Chris said, Aaron doesn’t have anything in mind when someone asked what he wants for birthdays or Christmases. He’s not materialistic in nature. He never bought anything that’s not necessary basic needs. Gifts, however, are different. Even if Chris just gave him a card, He would’ve kept it forever, just how he’ll keep this card in his keepsake box. And even if Chris gave him rainbow pajamas, he’ll still keep it and wear it.

The knock from his door is followed with an “Excuse me, sir,” and he goes back to Hotch.

Hotch looks back to see Garcia who’s surprisingly still in the building. She usually went home as soon as the case is done.

“Are you okay?” She says, and he gets why she’s here now.

“Yes. Are you?” Aaron asked back, because last time he saw her from the screen, she was crying.

“Oh, sir, I’m not, it sucks but you know... No, I don’t know. I hate not being able to do anything.”

“I know Garcia, you did a great job. We’ll all bounce back from this.” Like they always do.

“I know... We’re having a Christmas get together slash chill hang out at my place, trying to wind down. Do you want to join us?”

“That sounds great, but I’ll have to pass, I have to catch up some sleep.”

“Of course sir.” She looks around and gasps, finally smiling. “Are these from Chris?”

“Yes.”

“Aw! That’s sweet. Merry Christmas sir!”

“Merry Christmas, Garcia.”

Aaron starts putting it away in a big paper bag included inside, the box is also foldable. For someone not knowing what to gift him, Chris thinks through how he’s going to bring the stuff back to his car. For Aaron, this exact gesture tells you everything you need to know about Chris as a person.

As everything is inside the bag, Aaron was about to text Chris that he received the gift. He had expected the string of text, but not a couple of videos and lastly a picture.

The videos were from yesterday when Chris received his gift. It’s a video of him dancing on the dancefloor with the doll. Haily was the one recording it while laughing in the background. It still baffles him how he met another Haily. Though in different spelling, it’s way too similar to his late ex-wife. He never wants to come to this conclusion, but in a way, it’s like some kind of fate.

Everyone else is dancing with human partners and Chris is there dancing with a round cat plushie that’s just too big for si arms. Laughing freely and happily, waving to the camera and blowing a kiss.

To be completely honest, the plushie wasn’t intended to be that big. He had ordered a size roughly identical to the clay cat he owned of Rosco because Aaron sees the paints faded away in a few places where Chris touched often. The company misinterpreted the size and it came out ten times bigger than it should’ve been.

The last picture is Chris in his sleepwear, which are a boxer and worn t-shirts. It’s a selfie of him in his bed hugging the doll. An arm draped around the cat and his knee resting on the cat’s belly.

Seems like Chris likes the size from the text that follows.

From Chris: Can’t even wrap my hands around my big thicc boi.

From Chris: That sounds suggestive lol but I swear I meant nothing but wholesome things.

From Chris: Unless?”

From Chris: Lol jk, I’m not getting it down with a plushie of my late dead cat.

Then a string of kisses emojis.

Aaron zones out for a couple of seconds seeing Chris in bed with a plushie. Aaron can see everything from his head to hip and his arms stretching out far to include the plushie. His hair tossed carelessly to the back. His shirt risen to show a bit of skin of the waist. Face buried partly on the cat’s cheek. Eyes sparkle as he looks at the camera and a smile so big it showed all his pearly teeth.

There’s no doubt that Chris is a grown man with masculine features. His face is incredibly youthful and masculine despite some soft features of his face. Round almond eyes. Bold angled eyebrows. Pale pink lips that always stretch out in a smile.

In that bed, with that pose, the picture stopped Aaron from breathing. Heat pricked under his skin. His hands clenched and unclenched. Lastly, he gulped.

How long has it been since he came over to his place?

To Chris: I got your presents. I love them all, but my favorite is the book planner, thank you.

Aaron doesn’t even need to wait for more than five seconds, Chris is already typing.

From Chris: I’m so glad! I thought the planner would be too fluffy for you

To Chris: It’s refreshing, and the decoration doesn’t disturb the functionality of a planner. The colors are easy on the eyes. I’ll bring this everywhere I go.

Chris is typing... while he does, the picture of Chris is still on his screen and he can’t tear his eyes away from it. He sends a follow-up text before Chris can send his.

To Chris: Can I come over?

From Chris: !!!!!

From Chris: CAN YA???? WILL YA???

To Chris: Yes. We promise to meet up when I came back.

From Chris: Ajanschbvha come on over bby ;)

#aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner x male oc

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lonescion-archive · 4 years

Text

GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER.

Can be used for RP and non-RP blogs to get to know a bit about the person behind the screen!

1. FIRST NAME: Leila (but I much prefer Inky here!)

2. STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF: I don’t dream that often, actually. And no, it’s not a lack of sleep thing. I just don’t dream much. When I do though... I vividly remember it-- or most of it.

3. TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON: The more dapper (and hygienic) you look, the more I’ll probably appreciate your sense of fashion. Ask my friends; I appreciate a certain aesthetic that could be described as... foppish....

4. A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF: oatmeal creme pies. apparently one time I bought a whole box of them and ate them non-stop when I was badly sick because I told my mom I couldn’t eat anything else. i never found out if I was wrong or not though...

5. A FOOD YOU HATE: Something my mom made called ‘sweet rice’ It’s basically white rice cooked a certain way and made to be a bit... well... sweet... but it just makes me sick. I hate it.

6. GUILTY PLEASURE: Take your pick: AUs, crackships that become REAL ships to me because I can’t get them out of my head, or “I won’t make gen2 kids for this pairing. I will not. I refu-- dammit”

7. WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN: Shorts and a light shirt. I turn in my sleep, so loose clothing is essential.

8. SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS: Serious relationship, but I’m not sure about that even.

9. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE: LITTLE INKY, I’D MAKE YOU TAKE BETTER CARE OF YOURSELF >:I

10. ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON: If you’re family or a friend, yes~

11. A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN: Probably the first Harry Potter movie. I admit, I’m soft for the young, childish adventures and wide-eyed learning Harry partakes in before it gets all serious and grim. Or Milo & Otis. God I love that movie; it’s so pure and sweet.

12. FAVORITE BOOK: Goblin Wood trilogy by Hillari Bell (technically three books I know but they’re all good MAKENNA IS A GREAT PROTAGONIST SO IS COGSWHALLOP! AND TOBIN IS TOBIN go rEAD IT)

13. YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE: I’d just want my old cat Fluffy back, to be honest ;w;

14. TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL]: HOOOOOH BOYYYYYY first i need to set myself some rules; no oc/oc or canon/oc. That’ll narrow it down.... Numerical order does not imply that it’s more important to me btw 1) Tidus/Yuna (Which has the honor of being called Tuna) 2) Bartz/Faris (This one goes to @ask-captain-faris and the stellar way they write their muse) 3) King Albert/Meru (Eh, I can pass this for a purely platonic deal-- but it is cute to think about sometimes...) 4) Ovelia/Agrias (I always got the sense Agrias cared for Ovelia in more than a platonic sense, and I also have a feeling I am not the only one.) 5) Green/Red (Not Gary/Ash, though I don’t mind them either. The OG boys though ;w;)

15. PIE OR CAKE: both, i can’t choose and this ink is hungry for sweets all the time

16. FAVORITE SCENT: Lavender~

17. CELEBRITY CRUSH: I never really got celebrity crushes. I can appreciate aesthetic and I can most certainly appreciate the voice of a celeb but I never... I was never all “mmm yes gimme them”

18. IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO: Some place where the nature is still largely untouched, but isn’t too dangerous for me and my accident-prone ways.

19. INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT: Introvert, but I can be very bouncy around friends. Their happiness energizes me!

20. DO YOU SCARE EASILY: ......yes.

21. IPHONE OR ANDROID: Android.

22. DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES: Video games is what got me this blog, my dearies~

23. DREAM JOB: full time independently wealthy writer

24. WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS: pay off debts and then buy myself a cozy place for myself and my cat..s... then save the rest for whatever other things I might want to buy later.

25. FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE: I know Argath is detestable for his actions of which he should be held accountable for, I get that-- but the snake that always got under my skin was Barrington. That guy in no uncertain terms acts loathsome towards Rapha and even Marach once you think about it. I won’t spoil the story if you’ve never played Tactics in either form but... ugh. Gross. Get him out of here.

26. FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER: that would have to be Harry Potter. I rode on the craze wave back in junior high/high school, but once I left high school and went to college my love... kind of dimmed. I can’t tell you if it’s because Rowling’s writing has fallen off majorly or because my interests simply changed.

TAGGED BY: borrowed from @xkuja

Tagging: @holey-soldier , @burmecianblackmage , @thetaintedemotion , @wingsdontsymbolizemonsters , @lovelysweetxhart , @theoldmenofdunwall , @white-bird-in-a-cage , @divine-identite , @sagittaxrose , @theamazingchickenman , @aubadexcantata , @treacherous-heretic ,and god my wrist hurts please take this meme and tag me if you wish ily guys but i can’t tag everyone xD

#rp meme

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flawlesspeasant · 4 years

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Hi! this might be really random but i used to love ur jolex au's with lyla and alex. a question I always had about them is what was jo and alex's relationship with they first had lyla? were they in a good place? or was there drama at the time when jo was pregnant w/ lyla? do u have a fic of lyla's birth? i can't remember if u did or not? if so can u post it, if not its cool:)

hello :) the question is a little random but i love it! i love it when people still remember that little universe and hear that people were attached to the jolex kids! i think it’s so cute! anyway, when jo and alex first had lyla, they were in a pretty decent place. jo was starting her fellowship and alex was still chief of peds. they were newlyweds and still in the honeymoon stage, married for less than a year when jo got pregnant.

i really thought i had written a story about lyla’s birth, but i searched my old documents and can’t seem to find it so maybe i never did write one? if i stumble across it, i’ll post it but i really can’t find it right now. the closest thing i found is an old fic of jo holding lyla and getting emotional when she is two weeks old because she thinks about being left at the fire station that young.

————————

When her feet touched down on the fuzzy, soft fleece rug beside her and Alex’s bed, Jo felt the bones in her legs shift and crack. Her mouth opened and she uttered a loud, voracious yawn before rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands and stretching out her arms. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the bedside alarm clock and she sighed when she saw that it was only a measly 7:30 in the morning. She exhaled sharply, blowing air through her nose, and eventually stood up.

She wasn't surprised when she saw that the other side of the bed was empty. Alex’s shift started at 8:15, so it made sense that he was already up and moving for the day. Slowly, she dragged her very tired feet over to her laundry basket and leaned down to grab the pair of pajama pants she wore last night off the top. It had been two weeks. Two weeks since she had gotten proper rest, two weeks since she fell asleep at a decent hour and two weeks that she had been living like a zombie. Two weeks and she still wasn't on a schedule. She didn't want to admit it to anyone, much less herself, but she doubted that it’d ever happen. If the baby wasn't on a schedule yet, she probably never would get on one.

Jo shoved her legs through the holes of her pants and tied the drawstrings around her waist as she walked towards the bathroom, all the while tugging her chest-length brunette hair up into a leisurely ponytail. Each time she yanked her hair up, she reminded herself to never cut it again. Growing it out was too much of a hassle. She cut it way back when she was still a resident and now, two-almost-three years later, it still wasn't back to its original length. Picking the sleep-induced crust from the corners of her eyes, she yawned again as she rounded the corner into the bathroom, which was already illuminated and occupied by Alex.

Alex stood at the sink feverishly darting a toothbrush in and out of his mouth while the foamy toothpaste trickled out the sides. He hardly noticed Jo when she eased into the bathroom behind him, going immediately to the toilet. When he did notice her, she was sitting on it and releasing her bladder. He rinsed his mouth, shut off the spigot and looked at her.

“Rough morning already?”

Jo looked up at him with a tired expression and just weakly nodded her head. She didn't like admitting to him exactly how tired she was but dammit, she couldn't lie. Alex secretly reveled in her being tired because well...Jo being tired meant he was right and Jo hated when he would look at her with that smug little “I told you so” look. He tried to warn her months ago just how tiring newborn babies could be. So she didn't listen to him? Big deal. In hindsight though, she was really starting to wish she had taken him a little more seriously.

She wiped herself, got up off the toilet, flushed and bumped Alex out of the way so she could wash her hands. Alex hung the small towelette back up on the rack and leaned in. He pressed his lips to Jo’s cheek and grinned.

“I'll go get her up for you,” he offered and turned to leave the bathroom, already dressed and ready for work.

“Just make her bottle,” Jo murmured back as she dried her hands on the same towelette he just hung up. “I'll get her.”

“Got it,” Alex nodded and padded down the hallway.

Truthfully, she envied him. She envied the way he didn't have to get up at ungodly hours of the morning for feedings because he got to go to work. And she secretly despised the fact that he didn't really need to be up right now. He could've slept in for another 20 minutes and still made it in time for work. The fact of the matter was that Alex didn't want to sleep in. He didn't want to spend extra time sleeping in the morning when he could get up half an hour earlier and have time to spend in the rocking chair, staring at his little girl. Jo wanted to slap him for taking sleeping in for granted but quite honestly, there was no other way Alex wanted to spend his time. He would rather miss out on half an hour of sleep just to have ten uninterrupted minutes holding and kissing his girl. It always made his day so much better. Secretly though? Jo loved him a little more each time she found that he’d woken up earlier just to spend time with their baby.

Once she left the bathroom, Jo dragged her still-tired feet down the long hallway and quietly opened up the nursery door. She was still getting used to having the nursery. For one, it was still weird having an extra bedroom in the loft. When she was four months pregnant, Alex had hired carpenters to install carpet and put up walls and a door to make a bedroom for their baby and it still weirded Jo out just a little to know that their was a bedroom in the loft, for one. And for two, it was still crazy to think that a baby--their baby--was behind the door.

Inside the nursery, it was dead silent and nearly completely dark with the only light spilling through the closed blinds hung in front of the window. Jo tiptoed over to the white wooden crib and placed her hands on the top bar. Before she even disturbed her though, she looked inside. And dammit, every time she did, she couldn't help but smile.

The bedding was light pink with white polka dots and around the perimeter, the crib was padded with soft Minnie Mouse themed lining. A loose, light purple, cotton blanket was the only one inside the crib since it was the middle of summertime and almost swallowed up in the sea of blankets, bedding and plush stuffed animals, a tiny little body lie.

Jo leaned down and oh-so carefully, she wrapped her arms around the tiny baby’s torso. Softly, the baby grunted at being disturbed but quickly rested once her head hit her Mommy’s chest. Naturally, Jo rested her baby’s body against her chest and supported her by bracing her hands underneath her tiny backside. It was her most favorite way to be held. She loved the immediate contact and the sound of Mommy’s heartbeat when her head was in the middle of her chest and the rest of her body was tucked away in Mommy’s arms.

“Good morning. I missed you. Yeah, I did… Mommy missed you so much.” Without hesitation, Jo tilted her head downward and planted a kiss right on the baby’s lips. “You wanna go eat? Huh? You want some breakfast? Okay… Let's go see what Daddy made you for breakfast.”

She walked slowly as she carried the baby back to the kitchen and living room. As soon as Alex caught a glimpse of Jo holding her in the doorway, he immediately put the bottle he was shaking down on the counter and approached Jo with his arms out, ready to take her. He anxiously glanced at the clock and grunted. He had fifteen minutes before he had to leave but that wasn't nearly enough. He wanted so much more time.

“Gimme,” he mumbled and gently but eagerly took the baby out of Jo’s arms. “Morning gorgeous,” he whispered to her and pressed his lips gingerly to her tiny little chubby cheek. He situated her in his arms like a seasoned professional and stared down at her like he usually did. He loved staring at her and watching her sleep. Each time he looked at her, there was something new. Something that he’d never seen before. Yesterday he noticed the freckle by her hairline, the day before that was the slight dimple in her chin. Each day, she got more and more beautiful. “Her hair’s different today,” he observed as he took her hand into his and rubbed it. “It's… It's lighter.”

“You think?” Jo raised her eyebrows even though she was over at the sink running hot water along the outside of the bottle to keep it warm. “It was looking pretty brown yesterday.”

“No, it's definitely lighter today. She's gonna be blonde,” Alex said with confidence as he pressed his lips to the palm of her hand. In his arms, she squirmed a little and her tiny face cracked up as her feet began to rub against one another. “Shh shhh shhh shhh,” he hushed her. “It's alright… Daddy’s gotcha.”

“You wanna feed her?” Jo asked as she approached the two of them again, still wiping off the bottle. “It'll give me some time to grab her a new diaper and stuff if you do.”

“Yeah I'll do it.” Alex took the bottle from Jo’s hand and walked with it, over to the couch. He sat down slowly and like he’d been doing it his whole life, he eased the bottle’s nipple into her mouth and held it there for her to suck. He truly was a natural at it. It was just something so easy and natural for him. It was almost as if he was born to do it. “There we go. That's all better, isn't it?”

While she sucked, the baby’s eyes slowly parted and they popped open. Her glassy blue/green eyes roamed a bit but eventually, they fixated on him and she looked directly at him while she sucked.

“Still blue,” he mumbled to himself, smiling before he spoke up. “Hey Jo, her eyes are still blue.”

Jo returned from the nursery with a diaper and a package of wipes in tow. She smirked and plopped down on the couch next to them to see for herself. Gently, she pressed her fingertip to the corner of her baby’s eye and cleaned out an eye booger. “They are still blue, huh? I don't know where the hell she came from. I’m starting to think she's not really my baby.”

“She's yours. It's all in the face. The nose, the eye shape, that forehead and those big-ass ears. All you,” Alex teased and Jo swatted him. “But she's a Karev. Got Amber’s blonde hair and Mom’s blue eyes… That's that Karev in her.”

“I had a blonde baby,” Jo snickered. “Me… Jo Wilson… Brunette hair, brown eyes… Produced a baby with blonde hair and blue eyes. What the hell is that?”

“Eh if she's anything like Amb, she won't be too blonde. It'll be borderline brown but blonde. Like a gold kind of color. And she won't have bright blue eyes… They'll be a little green too.” Alex just stared and grinned. “She's pretty.”

“She's beautiful,” Jo agreed. “Lyla… Lyla. Look at Mommy, baby. Look at Mommy.” Jo held her hand and kissed it. “...Can you believe it's been two weeks? She's two weeks old exactly today.”

Reluctantly, Alex pressed his lips to her forehead and sighed once he realized that it was time for him to get up and head to work. Since it was empty, he eased the bottle out of Lyla’s mouth and caught the excess milk she pushed out with the fabric of her sleeper. Despite the milk on her lips, he kissed them and graciously handed her off to Jo.

“There you go,” he mumbled. “She's fat, full and dusted eight ounces of boob juice. I've gotta go now though.”

“Alright,” Jo nodded and immediately placed Lyla on her shoulder so she could be burped. For as much as she worried about it while she was pregnant, Jo truly did turn into the idyllic mother. Everything she did was natural but at times, like last week at her check-up when she took her outside without socks on, she was a little bit clueless on what to do with a baby. She was getting the hang of it though. She was a quick learner. “Have a nice first day back. Call me on your lunch hour.”

“I will,” Alex promised and without another word, he disappeared out the door.

Now alone, Jo continued to rub and pat her baby’s back but she looked around the loft and sighed. It was his first day back. Ergo, it was the first time in two weeks that she’d be alone all day with the baby. She wouldn't admit it to Alex but now that she was alone, she could say it. She, was nervous and a little bit scared. Alex always knew what to do. He was so much better at this whole parenting thing than she was. If Lyla was crying, he automatically knew what it was that she wanted. He had been her backbone for two whole weeks and now…

She took a deep breath and relaxed. I can do this, she thought to herself. She carefully took Lyla off of her shoulder and immediately smiled once she saw that her eyes were still wide open.

“Hello!” she crooned in a sweet little baby voice. “Hi beautiful. Hi. It's just you and me today, yep. Just you and Mama. We’ll have a girl’s day, okay? We’ll stay up real late, paint our toenails… Talk about boys…” She gently laid Lyla down on the couch in front of her and undid her onesie buttons. “...I'm a little clueless, okay? I'm not as good as Daddy. But I promise I'll get it together. And we’ll have lots and lots of fun together, okay?”

Lyla just looked at her with an expressionless face. She kicked her feet a little and brought her fists up to her mouth, which made Jo laugh as she took her diaper off.

“You can't still be hungry. You're such a fatty.” Jo leaned over and swept a pacifier up off the coffee table. She stuck it in her own mouth for a moment before putting it in her daughter’s. “Here, take that.”

With the baby quiet and content, Jo relaxed and changed her diaper with ease. Admittedly, she was horrible at this at first. She’d put the diapers on backwards, put the diapers on too loose. Lyla’s buttcheek would be hanging out the bottom or she’d pee right through it because it was on crooked. These days, Jo was better though. She changed a nearly flawless diaper each time. Once she was fully clean, Jo scooped her back up, set the soiled diaper on the coffee table and situated herself to be comfortable on the couch.

“You wanna watch TV with me? Let's watch… I dunno, let's watch Rachael Ray. And you can look at all the stuff your Mommy will never be able to cook for you.”

Jo turned the TV on and let whatever channel it was already on play. With Lyla on her chest, she combed her fingers through her light brown hair with one hand and used the other to pat her butt. Lyla closed her eyes and sucked on her pacifier and listened to Jo’s heartbeat until she was on her way back to sleep.

Subconsciously, Jo’s thoughts were reeling and she remained blankly staring at the television screen whilst her mind was moving at a thousand miles a minute. Today felt… Weird. Today was different. And she knew exactly why.

Today, her sweet little Lyla was two weeks old.

And in this two weeks, she watched her baby go from a bloody mess with matted, slick wavy hair to a cream-skinned, chubby cheeked beauty with fluffy light brown hair. She watched her hands turn from a haunting shade of blue to the usual shade of blotchy red and Caucasian skin. She watched her eyes go from a glossy shade of gray to a haunting shade of blue. She watched her umbilical stump dry up and fall off, watched her become more familiar with her and Alex’s voices and watched her grow and change each time she was fortunate enough to get her to latch onto her breast for a feeding.

And now today… She was holding her on her chest and she couldn't imagine her life any other way. She couldn't imagine this… This bond being broken. It was incredible. It was unfathomable. The way she felt so connected to this tiny lump of flesh, blood, bones and hair. The way she would easily lie down and take a bullet through the brain for this person. The way she never felt something so strong. The kind of love she didn't even know existed until she met this little person. It was incredible. And today… Today was the first time that she just didn't understand.

In her entire 31 years of being alive, she had lost count exactly how many times she told herself and others that she didn't understand. Didn't understand how one child could have two parents that didn't love it. How a mother couldn't love their baby. How a mother could just leave. She told herself and others countless times that she just didn't understand.

But now, she really didn't understand. How could someone feel this and let it go? How could someone look into innocent little eyes and not feel so much love? How could someone just make the conscious decision to leave their child? And worse yet, go through with it? How could someone just...not care?

She couldn't imagine that. She couldn't imagine Lyla not being on her chest. After carrying her for nine months? After watching her body stretch and grow to accommodate this blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty? After twelve grueling hours of labor? After feeling the doctors rubbing her dry on her chest? After watching Alex clamp and cut her umbilical cord himself? After looking into her pair of tiny little eyes and know that everything she ever did and ever will be affects her?

She was this small once.

Once upon a time, there was a little baby Jo Wilson. And at two weeks old, she wasn't snuggling and sleeping peacefully on her Mommy’s chest. No, at two weeks old, she was shivering. She was crying. In the middle of the night. In a stroller. With a blanket. Abandoned, discarded, unloved. That was her life at two weeks old. And for the first time in her entire life, she truly didn't understand.

With a single salty tear now rolling down her cheek, Jo pulled herself out of her thoughts and wiped it away with the back of her hand. She looked down at her chest, only to find that Lyla was now fast asleep and content to be so on her chest. And she smiled. Because her daughter wasn't her. Her daughter wasn't in a stroller next to a dumpster outside of a fire station abandoned and left to the wolves at two weeks old. No. At two weeks old, her own daughter was on her chest and that's where she would stay. For the remainder of the day, her daughter would stay right on her chest like this.

“I love you,” she whispered as she pressed her lips to the top of Lyla’s fluffy patch of hair. “So much.”

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luvhrs · 2 years

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shadow and bone — ep 6 thoughts:

ok so alina's with the crows now... i have no idea where the story's gonna go now oh my

are the crows gonna side with her instead of selling her out? is aleksander gonna be after them now?

I JUST NOW REALIZED THE CREATURE ON KAZ'S CANE IS A CROW I AM SO DUMB.....

ooh the constant heartbeat in the scene with the conductor i love that bit

i rly love heartrenders' abilities!!! their scope is so wide

WHATTTT NINA??? is she a double agent?

jackpot aleksander oof you're dead now conductor :(

omg alina!!! yay convenient small science

oh welp alina's gone- and inej let her go 🥺🥺🥺 my guess: saints are sun summoners???

"my summoner" smth abt the most feared villain claiming you as his i mean haha what

omg nina and matthias are alive!!!

i was wondering why alina didn't have a hood shdjfjds you gotta go rogue now girlie pls be safe

zoya's back and try'na get back into aleksander's good graces

OOFFFFF THAT BURN OK SIR

oh shit they have history and it is spicy

using her powers just to mess up his room lmao i like how you think zoya!!

ENEMIES TO LOVERS THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED HELNIK THAT'S SO SEXY OF THEM

MAL???? MF THEY'RE FINALLY REUNITED

oh wait nvm misunderstandings first :(

they've been without each other for so long and yet everything changed between them in seemingly a blink

KAZ DID IT FOR YOU INEJJJJ IM CRYING

MALINA'S LINES AND THE CONSTANT "FIND MY WAY BACK TO YOU" THEME ARE ALWAYS SO PERFECT FUCKING HELLLLL

sorry matthias but when you put it like that fjerda does sound like a nightmare

why is jesper so cool at everything he does!!!! sIR GIMME A BREAK

JESPER VS IVAN SEQUENCE IS SO COOL

COME ON INEJ YOU GOT THISSS

INEJ IS HURTTTT

OH SHIT KAZ AGAINST ALEKSANDER FUCKKK

HE KNOWS KAZ??? WTF AND WHAT WAS THAT SMOKE BOMB

mikhael and dubrov :((( your sacrifices are not in vain

oh oh oh alina could kill the stag and get its power!!!

someone cast matthias' actor as cullen rutherford his smile is very >:((( cute >:((((((

the whole witch hunter and witch dynamic too pACK IT UP TEMPLARS AND MAGES

MATTHIAS AND NINA ARE SO CUTE WTF AT LEAST LET US HAVE A CUTE MOMENT

THE SLOWMOOOO IS THIS A KDRANA

INEJ IS STILL HURT!!!!! KAZ PANICKED BF

where are the crows gonna go now

malina holding hands is my fav gesture

bro alina was willing to tell mal everything and he just. we don't deserve him

why does the darkling have to be hot AND smart dammit

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #katsu.txt

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thedaughterofkings · 6 years

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tagged by @clotpolesonly again, thank you, Jessica!! Last sentence tag

“This is a gift I cannot thank you enough for and a debt I can never repay.”

WHAT IS YOUR TOTAL WORD COUNT ON AO3?

203.791 words

HOW OFTEN DO YOU WRITE?

As often as I can? I’ve been pretty good about writing regularly this year, trying to squeeze out at least a few words every day, though there’ve been week long holes where I didn’t write anything (because of holidays or just because). This month has been terrible writing-wise so far, but it’s not over yet and all in all I’m pretty happy with how this year has been going writing-wise!

DO YOU HAVE A ROUTINE FOR WRITING?

Not particularly, no. I’ve got an hour long train ride to uni, so when classes are on I often get quite a bit written on the journey there and back again (or at least on one trip^^°). I also often find myself writing late at night, in bed - I’m not sure how good that is for my grammar, though! Other than that I write when free time and inspiration match up (for once).

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE KINKS/TROPES/PAIRING?

My favourite ships are definitely Sterek and Merthur, both when writing and reading. I’ve also written some Stisaac, Stoyd, and Stackson plus a smattering of fics for other ships (mostly for prompts people sent me). I still want to write a proper Drarry fic one day!! That ship is high on the favourite ships to read list, too, along with Wincest and Spirk. I also sometimes get these reading crazes, like earlier this year I only read 00Q fics for a few weeks?! But really, I’ve read TONS of ships, it’d take way too long to list them all here (but I’m happy to talk about them in more depth if there’s any interest in that :p).

As for tropes - GIMME ALL THE TROPES!!! I adore my tropes, both the straightforward ones and the ones turned on their heads! I am a sucker for pining, cannot get enough of soulmate AUs, Harry Potter AUs, and just a long list of other AUs :p For Sterek Neckz’n’Throats is a definite favourite, along with BAMF!Stiles and Spark!Stiles, for Merthur it’s modernRoyalty and royal!Merlin (send me links, people!!!) and probably a ton more that I can’t think of right now :p Writing wise I love a soulmate AU, and I used to write mostly meet-cutes. Nowadays it’s more lengthy pining and misunderstandings fics^^°

Finally - kinks! The most explicit thing I’ve written so far was some clothed rubbing off on each other, so yeah, not much to say writing-wise^^° And for reading it just depends on the author! If you give me a well written kink, I’ll probably like it! Generally there’s rather a list of kinks I don’t like rather than kinks I like? (though even that can be challenged when written well - I’m really not into water sports, but one fic managed to portray golden showers of all things as very emotional and touching) I do like a well written BDSM fic, but I’m very picky about those, and who can spend any time in Teen Wolf fandom without developing a fondness for knotting?^^

DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE FIC OF YOURS?

Mmhmm, not the one single fic that stands out, but I can perhaps narrow it down to a favourite per ship?

Starting with the easier bit, my favourite Stisaac fic is definitely Aunt Mable doesn’t count. That one is just perfectly fun and cute, I think^^.

For Stoyd, it’s a tie between Queen Maeve and Pas de Deux. Queen Maeve was my first time writing an established relationship rather than them getting together and I’m still really proud of how that relationship is the driving force of the fic rather than any external antagonist or the like. And in Pas de Deux I got to write Stiles and Boyd dancing Ballet and I really like how that came out, plus how their relationship progresses in that fic.

For Stackson it’s always going to be Pigtails (at least until I’ve written the sequels :p). This fic was my way of figuring out how those two could fit together and I just really love how it turned out.

With Merthur it becomes hard already - I love both Homebound and through this life and into the next (this is a marriage of equals) for different reasons. Homebound allowed to work through some issues with Merlin and Arthur’s relationship and the things they said and didn’t say to each other, and through this life and into the next (this is a marriage of equals) just has all the lovely tropes - arranged marriage, misunderstandings, pining, magic reveal, druid!Merlin, snarky Kilgharrah.^^ But if I have to decide on one of my shorter ones, my favourite is the best thing since Anne McCaffrey, because it’s adorable if I may say so myself! :p

And now, finally: Sterek! How could I ever decide?? I still love Of dogs and deer darcy, my first Soulmark fic, and also very much Fully grown which was written for the same prompt but turned out completely different! (those two are also my most successful fics by far, so perhaps I should write more soulmark AUs?) I love my fairy tale reimaginations (Rose and Thorn, to live happily ever after (a tale of sparks and wolves) and The Waterline Divides Us) and my Solstice Sterekzine alien!Stiles fic Constellations. And finally, even if apparently no one agrees, I love the only lonely boy in New York - come on, guys, how can you resist angsty musician Derek writing songs about his feelings!!! There’s pining and misunderstandings and love confessions through songs and dramatic reunions!!!! Give it a chance :D

YOUR FIC WITH THE MOST KUDOS?

Fully grown recently overtook Of dogs and deer darcy

ANYTHING YOU DON’T LIKE ABOUT YOUR WRITING?

Everything and nothing? It’s hard to pin it down - if I could easily do that, I could fix it! Writing process-wise I wish I’d not be as obsessed with getting every detail right (especially frustrating for teen wolf, where I don’t just have to fix my own mistakes, but all the inconsistencies canon has left us to deal with). It can really hold me back, because I’ll feel like I have to figure out the timeline or the motivation of the villain or the way the fight can logically go first before I can write anything! On the other hand, details are important in writing and I have gotten compliments on how everything fit together so perfectly, so there’s that!

NOW SOMETHING YOU DO LIKE (ABOUT YOUR WRITING)?

That’s even harder! I can’t think of anything right now, which is terrible because I do like my writing! Honestly, though, I’d much rather hear what you guys like about my writing (if anyone is still reading this), so if you can think of anything, please let me know!

First ship you ever read fic for:

Finally an easy question again! Drarry! Back during one of those long waits for the next Harry Potter novel I was trying to look something up and stumbled across this strange story, written in the world of Harry Potter, and after like 50k, Draco came out of the Forbidden Forest and he and Harry embraced and kissed and I was like - huh? I guess that works? And that was my first foray into fanfiction and I never looked back!

First ship you ever wrote fic for:

I wrote some fix-it fic for Fred’s death after the deathly hallows, but that never saw the light of day and I’m no longer sure how shippy it was. The first ship I ever wrote and published fic for was Sterek!

Ship you write the most now:

Sterek, without a doubt

Ship you read the most now:

That always depends on my current mood, but over all, the answer is still Sterek

Newest ship:

Like, properly, “reading a lot of fic for”? Probably 00Q, though that’s from the beginning of the year, where I had a phase which has since stopped again^^°

Rare ship you want to read more of:

For Clara and myself: Eowyn/Aragorn (we’ve dubbed them Arawyn, the long forgotten musketeer :p)

Your taboo ship:

I’ve got a few incest ships and not just in the badwrong way, so those? (because dammit, wincest are canonically soulmates!!!)

They never met in canon ship:

Laura/Lydia? (and if we go back to my Harry Potter days there’s a few more there :p)

Your unexpected ship:

Let’s go with Kradam (Kris Allen and Adam Lambert from American Idol once upon a time). I haven’t seen a single episode (nevermind season) of American Idol and I fell in love with them purely through fics (I blame Jerakeenc).

The ship you always forget to give love to:

Stoyd probably - I’ve been meaning to write an arranged marriage royalty AU for years!

Ship your OC with a canon character (if applicable):

I don’t really have many OCs, certainly not ones I ship with anyone! I tend to go for canon characters instead - it’s more limiting in a way, but also fun to figure out who might fit which story/character best and how they have to change to fit etc.

A ship you’re embarrassed to ship:

Ship and let ship! I’m not super loud about some of my ships, but that doesn’t mean I’m embarrassed about them! Like, I’ll freely admit I ship incest and rpf ships...

Your most romantic ship:

Sterek!!!!

Your sexiest ship:

Stoyd is the only one I’ve written anything resembling a sex scene for so far, so it’ll have to be that one!

Your most tragic ship:

There’s no other possible answer but Merthur here!!! The neck stroking, the forehead touch, the just hold me, the PAIN, THE TEARS

A ship you want more content for:

eeeeeeeevery ship!!! No really, write, art, create for the ships you love, people, whatever that might be! I mean, we have almost 55k Sterek stories on AO3 (wooh!!) and I still want more! It doesn’t matter how much or little there is already, I promise there’s someone out there who’ll want more of it :D

I’ve apparently used up all of my brain power of the day for this and can’t think of anyone to tag, so I’m tagging all of you - if you’d like to ramble about your writing, go ahead! (And I’ll repeat my plea from earlier - I’d love to hear what you like about my writing!)

#lessa says #lessa plays tag games #lessa rambles for far too long #sorry guys #lessa talks writing

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moonraccoon-exe · 7 years

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Beautiful love for Gladnis is clear, but do you ship Promptis as well?

Yes, of course I do!!! (ノ*°▽°*)

Maybe you’re relatively new around Racc’s Lair, but actually I’m multiship! :3

My main is Gladnis, as you can easily tell, and I also ship Promptis. They are so adorable together, and I love the dynamics between the two. I love how pure their bond is as canon, and I love all the possibilities they offer. They’re absolutely cute as a couple ( ´ ▽ ` )

On my mains I also have Fleurentia (tho maybe you’ll find old Fleurentia-related stuff as ‘Ravnis’ instead in my blog…I only have 2 fics written, also on AO3, the rest are random thoughts or Anon telling me a story for the ship, so just know there isn’t much in the tag [and I’m still not done tagging my old stuff so you won’t find much really]).

I absolutely and entirely LOVE Regclar! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ

Currently I’m on a boost on the Corqi ship, ILOVETHEMSOMUCH, gimme all your Corqi hnnnfgnfnf

I also love any form of the chocobro pairing: I LOVE GLADNOCT AND IGNOCT SO MUCH, and I love Promnis, and I love Promptio too! I also love OT4 with them

I also love Lunyx, they’re absolutely cute together and they fit so good as a couple and I want them to live together in an apartment and be domestic together

I love ships that aren’t getting much focus, like Luna/Cindy, they are so cute together!! I’ve only seen one Gladnea art but damn son, do I ship them. Luna and Prom would be so cute together, and so would Prom and Cindy!

Ravnea? I’m there, too. Gladio/Ravus is interesting too, but my damn Fleurentia feels ain’t moving aside, ahaha. I really like OT3 Prom/Luna/Noct, and I like OT3 Crowe/Nyx/Libertus and I like OT3 Clarus/Regis/Cor and only because I don’t have much info on him but I’d so make it an OT4 with Weskham, dammit

Basically, my writing focus goes on Gladnis, Fleurentia, and I hope I get time or prompts for some Regclar (I have so cute stories that others shared with me and I completed; my absolute favorite is a Regclar at Altissia with rain and hnnfdngfd I’d link you to it if you wanna

Raccoon loves love. So, multiship that is! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ♡

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deanssweetheart23 · 7 years

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On My Way Home

Title: On My Way Home. The Promise. Part 2

Summary: Dean deals with the aftermath of the letter that changed his life.

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester (very briefly, also mentioned), Jo Harvelle (very briefly), Benny Lafitte, Leslie (OFC, only mentioned), John Winchester and Marry Winchester (only mentioned), Bobby Singer (very briefly mentioned), Lexie (OFC), Lisa Braeden (mentioned)

Word count: 6065

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Another letter (way shorter though, I promise). Mentions of an almost-fatal car accident and death of a parent. There are a few more warnings but I don’t want to ruin the story for anyone so look at the tags in the end if you want. :)

Author’s Notes: Wow. So here it is. The second part to “The Promise”. I’m sorry this took me so long, guys, but I fell in love with the first part and I wanted to do this story justice (also, life has been kind of crazy lately). Anyway, I’d really like to thank all of you for the love and support you’ve shown for this fic. It means the world to me and I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed working on it.

(Flashback is in italics). Read part one here.

“Where are we going?” Y/N breathed out, her hand in Dean’s, a bright smile gracing her beautiful features as they ran together, twigs and branches scratching their skin, trying to slow them down.

The corners of his lips quirked up in a cheeky smirk.

It was hard to believe, really, but life had been good to him lately. They were almost ready to graduate, Y/N had gotten accepted into Columbia and, with his dad and Bobby’s help he’d be able to follow her to New York and start working as a mechanic like he’d always wanted.

And, thank God, she was doing better. The days she’d spent laying on a hospital bed, wounded and bruised, were long gone and she was happy and lively once more, had that spark in her eyes that made him fall in love with her all over again.

“You’ll see.” He winked, giving her hand a squeeze for good measure.

“But the other guys, they’re going to-”

“Don’t worry ‘bout them. They’re too busy to notice we’re gone.”

Much to his surprise, she gave him a dirty look but he could see through her façade, could see the smile she was trying to hide.

“Am I going to regret trusting you?”

He looked at her in controlled annoyance, lips pursed.

“Pffft. Have you ever regretting trusting me?” he scoffed. Then. “You know what? Don’t answer that.”

She snorted out a laugh, biting on her bottom lip. They had reached the lake by now and, despite the fact they’d spent countless afternoons there, talking and dreaming, hanging from trees and pretending to be monkeys, she was too caught up into their conversation to notice.

So, he smirked and pulled her closer, mischief coating his features.

“So. Just out of curiosity.” He said, rumbling and reticent. “All of your stitches are gone, right?”

Stopping short in her tracks, she squinted at him in confusion.

It was kind of adorable.

“Yes. Why would you ask me- oh no. Dean Winchester, don’t you da- goddammit!” she growled as he lifted her over his shoulder and headed towards the shoreline.

“Put me down. I swear to God, Winchester, put me down right fucking now!”

“Too late, princess.” He chuckled, slapping her butt. “You’re going down with me.”

“Don’t you dare, you little piece of-”

His laugh swallowed the rest of the words as he dove in, the icy water pricking his skin like the sharpest of needles. But then, he was up again in a minute, crazy laughter escaping him, while she spluttered and yelled and called him names.

“You think you’re funny?”

“I think I’m adorable.” He retorted, pouting.

“Cheeky bastard.” More laughter. “Oh, yeah laugh it off, you dick.”

He chuckled again, throaty but warm, then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him.

“C’mere.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple, chin rested on the top of her head. “And stop pouting. You don’t have a sexy pout.

“Why am I even friends with you?”

“Because I’m awesome. And nice to look at.”

“Dear God. My best friend’s a screwball.” She whined, eyes darting up to the sky in frustration.

And still, when she glanced at him again under the moonlight a few seconds later, he smiled. He hated to admit it but it wasn’t so long ago that he was worried he’d never be able to see those beautiful eyes looking back at him again.

“What?” she chortled nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like, I dunno… Like I’m some sort of miracle.”

He chuckled, despite himself.

“No reason.” A glare. “It’s just, uh. I’m glad you’re okay. I was, um, I was worried about you after, uh, you know…”

“I do. And I love you for that.” She smiled, soft but consuming, running soothing circles on his back. “But I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. Like ever. So, you’re just… stuck with me I guess.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yup. Best friends forever, D. Remember?”

He nodded, locking his pinky with hers.

“Forever and ever, sweetheart.”

She’d beamed at him then, his gaze roaming over her face before settling on her lips again, those lips he wanted to kiss almost every time he saw them curl up in a smile. So, he leaned a little closer, fingers threading in her hair gingerly, and sighed in relief when her grip tightened around his waist because it was all he needed to continue.

Until, of course, he heard those goddamn footsteps and Sam’s and Jo’s singsong voices tattling Y/N and Dean up in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g as they waved at them from the shore.

Groaning, he narrowed his eyes and cursed under his breath, while Y/N simply huffed, burying her face into his chest, soft chuckles caressing his clothed skin.

“M’ sorry about that.” He whispered, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“’S okay, D. Not your fault they’re dickheads.” She taunted and he laughed, forever in love with the cute way she scrunched up her nose in indignation.

“Yes, they are.”

It came out as a growl, but his expression softened the moment his eyes landed on her and his fingers reached for hers. “What do you think? Want to teach them a lesson.”

She titled her head, brow slanted.

“Absolutely.” She agreed, mischief floating across her face. “But before we do that.” She added quickly, face turning suddenly serious. “I meant what I said earlier. Wild horses couldn’t drag me away, D.”

He shook his head, kissing her forehead, grin as wide as it could be.

“I think I can live with that, cherry pie.”

“Hey. Chief? Chief.” His best friend chanted, gruff voice piercing through the fog of memories only to scatter them around like confetti.

“Huh?”

“You okay? I’ve been talking to you for the past ten minutes.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dean implored indifferently, wiping grease of his face.

Benny huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Yeah. But all you’ve been doing is staring blankly at that wall.” He paused, giving the eldest Winchester a once over skeptically. “D’ ya get any sleep last night?”

Dean shrugged, untwisting the cap off of a bottle of water.

“Sure did.”

“Yeah, right.” The blue-eyed man snorted, not even bothering to hide the slight curl of his lips, pointedly ignoring the murderous looks thrown his way.

There was a brief silence during which Dean stupidly thought he was off the hook and then-

“You were thinking about Butter Cup again, weren’t ya?”

And, dammit, despite the fact he’d seen this coming, his heart still dropped at the mention of Y/N’s nickname. It wounded him, how a name he’d always associated with movie nights spent cuddling by the fireplace, lazy Sunday mornings and that indescribable yet heartwarming feeling of home and belonging, now cut deep into his very soul every time someone even whispered it.

Swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat, he clenched his jaw, eyes focused on the silver ring he was wearing, the one she’d bought for him when they moved into the City together.

“I just…” he paused, a silence of smoke and mirrors as he tried to stop himself from saying too much.

But then again, maybe that had been part of the problem. Maybe he’d kept a lot of things to himself.

He sighed, defeated.

“I miss her, man. My whole life, Y/N’s just… She was right there. And now she’s not and I don’t know…”

“Well, do something about it.” The other man chided, rubbing his forehead.

“Do what exactly? Because you and I both know that I’m running out of options here, Benny.” The Winchester grounded out, green eyes flaring in aggravation. “I mean, I’ve called and left messages and tons of voice mails and she won’t call me back. Hell, she won’t call her parents back. And I’m just….” He fidgeted with the rag in his hands “Maybe she just changed her mind. Maybe she wants nothing to do with me.”

Benny chuckled at that, holding his hands up.

“Or maybe you need to try harder.”

That earned him a sharp glare.

“You don’t get it.” Dean grounded out through gritted teeth. “I hurt her. She was in love with me and I… She’s seen things, I’ve told her things that… I just never thought….” he stopped, hoping that his friend had missed the way his voice had wavered. “It’s pathetic really. I was so afraid to tell her the truth because I didn’t want to lose her. And now...” he dragged a hand over his face. “I don’t think she’s coming back.”

“Bring her back. Go find her. Beg her to give your stupid ass a chance.”

A sign.

“I don’t even know where she is, Benny.”

Instead of replying, Benny spread his arms in a shrug, sly grin on full display.

“I do.”

“You… Man, if you’re messing with me, I swear-”

“Gimme a break, brother. I wouldn’t lie to ya ‘bout this.” Benny retorted, searching for something in his pockets. “Here. Sam dropped this off for ya this morning. Said something ‘bout being tired of watching you pine over Y/N.”

Dean rolled his eyes, offended.

“Wow. Wow. Wait a minute. I ain’t pining.”

The blue-eyed man chuckled in amusement at that, mumbling something that sounded awfully like sure you’re not, chief under his breath but his friend ignored him in favor of the envelope he was holding, mind already flooding with throbbing memories of that other letter, the one that had caused his entire world to come crumbling down over a month ago.

To the boy that went through my underwear drawer and stole my diary (even if my sister took the blame for that one.)

When Y/N was five, she came back home from the playground one day, all excited and smiley, and couldn’t stop talking about a new friend she’d made, a little boy with freckles, sandy blonde hair and pretty green eyes.

I knew then you’d be trouble, Winchester.

And, God, I was right.

You two became inseparable after that and, even though you drove me demented sometimes, I was glad that my baby sis had found someone that always had her back no matter what, someone that loved her so fiercely and unconditionally. I’ve always known that you were in love with her, Dean, and, to be honest, I think everyone else did as well -I even remember dad telling mum to keep an eye on you the day you’d kissed her cheek and given her one of your plastic soldiers after a playdate.

And I’m thankful. I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for Y/N and I think the world of you. And, because of these things, I want you to know that, no matter what has happened in these past few weeks I don’t blame you for anything and that I believe, with everything I have, that there’s no better man for her.

Which brings us to this. There’s an address behind this page that will lead you to a place somewhere in Maine. Our cousin, Lexie -the one with the long legs?- has a place there and Y/N’s been staying with her.

Go find her, yeah? I want you two to get married and be disgustingly in love for the rest of your lives and have annoying sweet children that I can spoil. So, go find her.

Love,

Leslie

PS. I’m rooting for you two. Don’t let me down.

Dean stared at the piece of paper, afraid that if he closed his eyes even for a second the words would disappear forever and he’d lose Y/N once again.

Taking a deep breath, he looked up, clutching the letter in his hands.

“Benny, I don’t know how to thank you for this.”

“I do.” Benny smiled, southern accent warming Dean’s heart. “Go get your girl, brother.”

When Dean parked the Impala at a lay-bay somewhere in Portland almost six hours later, the colors of the sky had deepened and darkened, and all of his previous excitement had been overshadowed, then melted away, giving way to something more obscure and distressing.

For in all honesty, Dean was pissed. In fact, he was fuming because Y/N had been so damn close to him right from the start and, yet, he hadn’t been able to find her. He’d looked everywhere, in New York, in Lawrence, in Bobby’s house in Sioux Falls, and yet, she’d been hiding in frigging Maine the entire time.

“Okay.” He muttered to himself, leaning against his car. “Okay, okay, okay. You can’t screw this up again, Winchester.”

Taking a deep breath, he reached for her necklace, the long chain cold against his hand.

He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Okay. You’ve got this man. She’s your best friend. You’ve got this.”

With a curt nod, he locked the Impala and whispered a breathless wish me luck, Baby, then headed towards the house.

Granted, it was beautiful, the kind of residency she’s always wanted for herself and, for a brief second, Dean wondered whether he was doing the right thing.

Maybe he should leave Y/N alone. Maybe she was happy with her new life. Maybe she had moved on and maybe she was even grateful she’d gotten rid of him. God knew it wouldn’t be the first time that happened.

Maybe.

The constant rumbling in his head made him want to turn back around, get into his car and drive away.

He didn’t.

Instead, he exhaled deeply, let Benny’s words ring inside his head soundlessly a couple of times, and rapped his knuckles down on the wooden door. He waited, one, two, three, four long bits and then…

“Hello, mate. Anything I can do for you?”

No.

No, no, no.

This could not be happening.

Dean blinked, hoping that he was hallucinating, but when he opened his eyes again, it was still there. He was still there.

A man in his early thirties was leaning against the door, a brash smile on his lips as he glanced at Dean. He was shorter than him, with short brown hair, an annoyingly perfect British accent and a very naked chest on full display.

Dean looked into his eyes. They were green.

Clenching his jaw almost painfully, he took in the tousled hair and the towel he had wrapped around his waist and it suddenly felt as if someone had actually punched all the air out of his lungs.

He could almost see it, really. He could see snapshots of Y/N smiling at Mr. Towel like she used to smile at him, could hear the way she laughed at his lame British jokes, could picture them kissing and making love, touching and pulling and…

God. He needed to get out of there. He needed to-

“Dean?”

It came out as a whisper, sounded almost like a prayer, and before he knew it she was standing right in front of him, head titled to the left in disbelief.

And, of course, all he could do was stare, at the colors and the creases, the curves and the skin and the strands of hair he’d missed so much.

Fuck, she looked beautiful. More beautiful than he remembered. And still, there was something in her eyes, something that so distinctly reminded him of that day they’d been fighting about his parents’ divorce all those years ago, that made his heart ache and settled something heavy in his stomach.

And that look hurt him so much that he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and wipe that look of sadness off her face like he knew he could, wanted nothing more than to make it okay, but he was afraid that it was too late.

So, he just smiled a half-smile to hide his brokenness, then waggled his fingers in acknowledgment.

“Hi there, cherry pie.”

She swallowed loudly at the nickname. It shattered what was left of his heart.

“What are you…” she sighed, glancing at Mr. Towel nervously, hands tucking a strand stray of hair behind her ear. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. No, don’t worry, everything… Everything’s fine. I just, uh…” Dean cleared his throat, hand scratching the back of his neck. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Didn’t mean to interrupt so I’ll just…”

“Wait. Dean, I-”

It’s okay, baby. I just want you to be happy.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m glad you’re okay.” He whispered, despite the tightness of his throat. Looking at her, his mind brimmed with painful thoughts, and he reached for his pocket. “Here.” He muttered, holding her necklace. “You should have this.”

He couldn’t be sure but he thought he saw her bottom lip wobbling.

“I can’t take that.”

He smiled sadly.

“You should. ‘S yours.” A pause. “‘S always been yours.”

“I…” She ran a hand over her face tiredly. “Jesus, I really don’t know what to say right now.”

“Well,” Dean chuckled breathlessly “that’s a feat.”

“Thank you.” Y/N murmured and tried to smile but ended up frowning.

Mr. Towel cleared his throat.

“Dean, mate. Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

Okay. That was weird.

“No. Uh, thank you but I have-”

“Tosh. I’m taking Lexie out tonight so Y/N could use the company. From what I hear you two have a lot to talk about.”

Dean’s eyes darted from Mr. Towel to Y/N who seemed simply terrified.

His heart beat wildly in his chest.

He was definitely missing something.

“From what you he- I’m sorry, you know who I am?”

The man smiled gently.

“Yes. I do. Lexie’s told me lots of things about you. I’m Will, by the way. Lexie’s boyfriend.” he explained, shaking Dean’s hand. “It’s good to finally meet you. Lex thinks you’re the bee’s knee.”

“I’m what?”

Y/N smirked ever so slightly.

“It’s a compliment, Dean. Just go with it.”

Right.

Raising an eyebrow, the eldest Winchester smiled tightly in response, shoving his hands inside his pockets sheepishly.

“Well then. I’ll just go get ready.” Will announced, glancing at him. Then, he turned to Y/N. “I’ll, uh, take Lexie back to my place tonight. We’re leaving through the back door to give you two some space.”

Y/N smiled softly at that, leaning in to peck his cheek and, even though Dean knew that there was absolutely nothing going on between the two of them, he was still insanely jealous because he couldn’t help but think that perhaps he’d never be able to have that with her again.

A few seconds later Will was gone, and he was alone with Y/N, her hands wrapped around her little frame, teeth chewing on her bottom lip nervously.

“So…” he started quietly. “Hot cousin Lexie ending up dating a Brit?”

It took a few seconds but as soon as Y/N realized he was joking she chuckle lightly, eyes wide with gratitude.

“Yeah, he’s… He’s a bit dorky but he’s a good guy.” She mumbled, picking at a loose thread at the end of her sleeve. “And he’s been really nice to me so…”

He nodded, shaking his head.

“Good. That’s… good.” He mumbled, green orbs drinking her in, then smirked playfully at the red and blue garment she was wearing. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that flannel by the way.”

She grinned, just a bit.

“No, you haven’t. I stole that like five years ago and you never even noticed.” She scoffed, trying to suppress another gorgeous smile. “Plus. It looks better on me.”

He laughed then, first real laugh in a month.

“God, I missed you, sweetheart.”

The smile dropped from her face just as the words came out of his mouth and he internally winced.

“What are you doing here, Dean?”

Ouch. That hurt.

So, he let out a stuffy chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Wow. Good to see you too, Y/N.”

“It is good to see you.” she admonished, rolling her eyes. “You have no idea what this month’s been like but-”

“I wanted to talk to you. That’s why I came.” he cut her off, holding his arms away from his sides. “I mean, dammit, Y/N, you can’t just drop a bomb like that and then disappear. I was worried about you.”

Her eyes fell to the floor, hands rubbing her jeans.

“I know.” She whispered and her confession made him stiffen because now everything hurt twice as much. And, all of the sudden, despite the relief that Y/N was fine and safe and concrete in front of him, he was mad.

“You know?” he implored, incredulous, then chuckled humorlessly. “Well, not to sound too clingy or anything but if you knew you could have called. Hell, you said you would, you said it in that goddamn letter and then you just went off the radar. Just like that.” He smiled, sad and brittle. “And I tried, Y/N. I tried.”

“I know.” She snapped, throwing her hands up. “I know, alright? But I couldn’t just…. What was I supposed to say? Howdy, Dean. Sorry I fell in love with you and ruined your wedding. How’s Sammy doing?” she laughed, bitter.

“Yeah.” He argued, clenching his jaw. “You could have said that. As a matter of fact, you could have said just about anything. We’ve been best friends since we were five for fuck’s sake. I deserved a frigging phone call.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Her voice came out smaller this time but it just egged him on.

“Then why the hell-”

“Because I screwed everything up.” She shouted, Y/E/C eyes ablaze with unshed tears.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with tension and secrets, burned by shared memories and implicit guilt.

When she spoke again, her eyes were far too serious, and her body sagged tiredly.

“Look. I don’t expect you to understand. But I did miss you. Every single day. And I am sorry. And I wanted to call. God, Dean, I wanted to call you so much that it hurt.” Her voice cracked just a little.

He hated the sound, hated it with his entire being, and every cell of his body was screaming at him to wrap his arms around her, hold her against him and kiss her hair, to tell her that it was okay and that he’d already forgiven her.

He didn’t move.

“I’m not used to being without you, D. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever be. But I… I left. I ruined what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. And I don’t get to just come marching in your life again, asking you for a clean slate like nothing happened.”

Dean looked at her, stunned, teeth clamped together, jaw quivering

“Jesus Christ. What the- okay, honestly, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Dean-”

“Shut up.” He howled, clamping a hand over his mouth. “Just…” he sighed, fingers running through his short hair “C’mere.”

“You – D., we shouldn’t-”

“Don’t care. Just come here, baby.”

He didn’t know whether it was what he’d said that prompted her to move or the look in his eyes or his overall desperation but she started walking towards him almost immediately and only stopped when he reached for her hand and slipped his fingers through hers.

“I missed you.” he whispered, deep and husky, green eyes searching hers.

“I missed you too.”

“Thank God.” he murmured, letting out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and then he was pulling her to him, arms wrapping around her waist, face buried in her hair.

Dean didn’t know how long they stayed like this, steady heartbeats and even breaths a needed reminder that the other person was real and not just a product of their imagination, but he knew that he kissed the side of her head afterwards, pulled away and looked at her, one of his hands titling her face up.

“Never leave me like that again.”

She nodded, a sob escaping her lips.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Ssssh,” he cooed, pulling her to him again, lips on her temple in a sweet kiss. “’S okay. I’ve got you now.”

She tensed under him, placing a hand flat on his chest.

“No. Dean, I can’t- I’m not coming back. I’m sorry but I can’t…”

“Did you mean all those things you said in the letter?”

She sighed, eyes darting to the floor.

“Yes. I did. I know they must have hurt you, but I did. It’s because I love you so much that I can’t-”

“I love you too.”

“I know but not like-”

“My God, you never shut up, do you?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I love you.” he repeated, lacing his fingers with hers only to bring their joined hands to his lips and kiss her knuckles. “I am in love with you, sweetheart. And, in a way, I think I’ve always been, ever since that day in the playground.”

Y/N squinted at him, incredulity coating her features.

“But all those women, Lisa-”

He smiled, sheepish and sad.

“Part of my plan, well, my, uh, stupid plan to find someone just to try and get over you. Lisa… Lisa’s beautiful and sweet and for a moment I really thought we could work. But she’s not you. You are…” he sucked in a breath, eyes closing shut as he let his fingertips graze the edge of her jaw. “You’re home, sweetheart. I look at you and I’m home.”

“Dean-”

“No. Just listen, okay?” he pleaded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I know I hurt you.”

“We both hurt each other, D.”

“’S not the same. I proposed to someone else. Fuck, I asked you to help me with my vows.” He laughed, self-deprecating. “So, I think we can both agree that I royally fucked up but I don’t think I can… I can’t lose you. And if you give me a chance, if give us a chance, then I swear to God, Y/N, I’ll do anything to make sure you won’t regret it.”

She nodded, eyebrows lifted.

“Anything?”

“Anything.” He croaked, breathy and scraped.

“So, you’d be willing to like, get on a plane or something? Or would you… Man, would you let me drive Baby?”

That familiar sparkle twinkled in her eyes as she spoke and, for the first time in a month, he felt like a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

He huffed out a breath, rolling his eyes.

“Seriously? I bare my soul to you and you’re being a frigging brat about it?”

She chuckled, sunny and happy as his arms snaked around her waist.

“Yes. But you love it.”

“Yeah.” He whispered as he clasped a hand on the nape of her neck, head bent until he could feel her breath on his face. “Yeah, I do.”

She grinned, lips almost brushing against his own.

“Hmmm. Oh, and Dean?”

He hummed, forehead pressed against hers.

“You’re home too.”

He smiled the smile of child on Christmas morning and pressed his mouth softly on hers like he’d been dreaming about for years, lips locked in a kiss that was long overdue and soaked with a flurry of emotions and years of unspoken love.

It was slow at first, fragile and attentive, but then she let out a whimper and he smirked, threading his fingers in her hair and splaying his other hand over her back, pressing her against him until he swore he could feel her heartbeat on his chest and his universe had snapped into focus.

She slid one hand up the muscles of his back and it was all he needed to deepen the kiss, part her lips with his tongue and explore her mouth with everything he had. She tasted like chocolate and strawberries and, as she kissed him back thoroughly, like she’d thought about this as many times as he had -maybe even more, he reckoned that he’d never tasted anything better.

It took a minute for him to float back to Earth when it was all over, and he sighed, breath stolen by the kiss.

“Wow.”

He laughed, low and wrecked, nose brushing up against hers.

“Wow. That was-”

“I know. Been wanting to do that since we were kids.” He confessed, his hand running up and down her side.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because you can be very intimidating. I was afraid you’d punch me.”

She laughed, that breathy laugh that reminded him of bubbly rivers and bird songs and sunshine.

“Well, I do have a mean right hook.”

“Meanest right hook I’ve ever seen, Killer.” He agreed, pressing a kiss on the side of her head. “But I think it’s time to stop being afraid.”

She nodded, one hand on his shoulder, the thumb of the other one tracing his jawline.

“I think I agree.”

He smirked.

“No more running then?”

She grinned, heat dancing in her eyes, a look she often got when she knew she could sweet talk Dean into anything she had in mind.

“No more running.” She murmured, lips brushing his. “Not if you want to do this with me.”

He beamed, eyes soft and so full of affection.

“Cherry pie, I want to do everything with you.”

And then he kissed her again.

Dean blinked as bright sunlight flowed through the messily drawn curtains, sleepy eyes focused on the girl in his arms. He had a hard time believing it but Y/N was there, her back pressed against his chest, arms wrapped around her waist firmly, face buried in the crook of her neck. He had a hard time believing it but Y/N was his.

So, he breathed her in, happy that her scent was now lingering on his skin as well, and kept his eyes glued to her face, knowing that he didn’t have to be afraid of getting caught staring anymore.

Smiling to himself, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder-blade, then trailed her skin with his lips until he reached her neck, gently nipping and sucking, his scruff tickling her.

She groaned and mumbled something unintelligibly, hands reaching down to cover his.

“Mmmm.”

He chuckled, heart swelling with love.

“’Morning, sweetheart.” he whispered against her, pressing a kiss to that spot where her neck dipped into her shoulder.

She turned around to face him, Y/E/C boring into his.

“You’re still here.”

Dean looked at her, lips pursed, brows knitted together.

“’Course I’m still here…” he muttered, kissing her forehead. “D’you really think I’d leave?”

She smiled lazily, shaking her head.

“No. Just worried this wasn’t real.” she explained, lacing her fingers with his.

He chuckled, warm and adoring, leaning in until their breaths were mingling.

“Well, it is.” He promised, kissing her sweetly, lips dancing together like they had been doing it for years. “This is very…” kiss “…very….” kiss “…real.”

She chuckled in response, beautiful face glowing as he rolled on top of her, hands already tracing curves and dimples, peppering her jawline with feather-light kisses.

She whimpered beneath him, lips pink and kiss-swollen and, God, he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

“D.”

He hummed lazily, latching his lips onto her neck, determined to map every vein, trace every inch of smooth skin like he had wanted to do for years, and kept going until it was too much, then pressed his forehead against hers.

“Question…” he stated, pecking the tip of her nose “I know we agreed to take this slow, but how slow exactly?”

Letting out a laugh, mischief coated her figures and she let her fingers twine in his short locks.

“Don’t know, D.” she mumbled, pecking his jaw. “You’re the one that wanted woo me before getting me to bed.”

He smirked, cheeky and bashful, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“So, if I were to do this…” he whispered, breath hot on her earlobe as his hand slipped under the flannel she was wearing and gripped on her waist only to end up cupping her breast “…you’d be okay with it?”

“I’d be more than okay with it.” She agreed, mouth warm and perfect on his.

They were a mess of limbs after that, all secret smiles and heated glances and before he knew it, she was shirtless and his hands and lips and eyes could finally wander everywhere they’d never dared before.

“You’re…” he stopped, looking back up to meet her eyes. “God, sweetheart, you’re just… So gorgeous.”

She smiled, cheeks flushing red, then reached to twist the worn leather of his amulet around her fingers, effectively pulling him closer.

“Y/N. Dean. Are you guys in there?”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Dean whined, letting his face drop in the crook of her neck dramatically, prompting a breathless chuckle from her followed by a quick ‘m sorry.

“Yeah, we’re kind of in the middle of something here, Lex.” she howled, shaking her head. “Everything okay?”

“Nope.”

Jesus, Lexie sounded pissed.

“Listen, I don’t care what you and Pretty Boy have been doing in my bed all night but you better be up and ready to go in half an hour or I’m going to kick your sexy ass.”

“Half an -oh, crap.”

“What? What’s going on?”

Y/N sighed, nose scrunched up in the cutest of ways.

“She’s meeting Will’s parents for breakfast today. Crap. I was supposed to go with her. Ugh.”

He nodded, trying to hide his disappointment.

“You can’t just not go, right?” he fished, tucking a stray of hair behind her ear.

She pursed her lips, thoughtful.

“Well, I could but-”

“’S alright.” He cut her off, pecking her lips. “She’s been there for you this past month. You should go.”

And, Jesus Christ, even though the idea of not finishing what they had started hurt him, that smile she smiled for him, that brilliant smile that he’d do anything, absolutely anything to see every minute of every hour of every day made his heart flutter so fast inside his chest that everything else was forgotten.

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh. I am going to need a cold shower though.”

She snorted out a laugh, the sound adorable.

“Okay. Tell you what. After that cold shower, you’re coming with. And when we’re done, I’m packing my stuff so we can get the hell out of here.”

He hummed, licking his lips.

“And go where exactly?”

“Well…” she started, fingers running through his hair leisurely. “I was thinking your place.”

“God, I love you.” he whispered, kissing her eyelids lovingly.

“Hmmm. Love you too, Deanie Beanie.”

“Seriously?” he bawled, rolling his eyes. “Okay, you know what? If you really want us to bang, you have to stop calling me that.”

Y/N barked out a breathy laugh, shoulders shaking along with it.

“Bang? Hate to break it to you, Winchester, but I’m pretty sure people stopped banging in the 90’s.” She gushed, wrapping her arms around his. “And I’m never dropping that nickname. ‘S our thing.” She added, teasing smirk on full display. “Plus. It reminds me of the little boy that wanted to run away with me because our parents wouldn’t let us go to Disneyland together.”

“You remember that?” he implored, ears turning pink.

“I remember everything, D.” she beamed, pecking his neck. “Now. Are you sure you’re okay with us going to that thing?”

His heart warmed at the tenderness in her voice.

“Yup.” A forehead kiss. “Don’t worry too much ‘bout it. We’ve got time, cherry pie.”

“We do?”

“Absolutely.” He replied, grinning playfully, his pinky already reaching for hers. “Forever and ever, right?”

She smiled.

It was the smile of that little girl that had offered him half of her cherry pie when he’d defended her in front of an older kid. The smile that made him blush when he’d let her sleep next to him during a thunderstorm. It was the smile she gave him the day he promised her they’d always be friends, the same smile she had been wearing the first time he’d wanted to kiss her. It was the smile that carried with it their first I-love-yous and that night they’d danced to Bob Seger in the darkness of his bedroom. It was the same smile he was afraid he’d never see again after he read that letter.

And yet, there it was, bright and warm and real and his.

“Forever and ever.”

He smiled back at those precious words, green eyes glinting with happiness.

He was home.

The Promise Tags: @tiny-friggin-human @xfanqirlinq @vougebandit @imagine-that-100 @kaylynnw428 @mortallymagicalobject @wii-im-a-panda @imaginesofdreams @charliebradbury1104 @luci-in-trenchcoats @nerdwholikesword @avengersgirllorianna @selenakaulitz @brittanyoyens @unknown-chronicles @docharleythegeekqueen @jaspesangriento @daintyhibiscus @brihughes4 @trexrambling @captainradicalpassion @bloodytwins125

Forever Tags: @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @ravengirl94 @imagining-supernatural @impala-dreamer @becs-bunker @winchestersnco @wordstothewisereaders @pickupthatamulet @escabell @sgarrett49 @myrabbitholetoneverland @iwriteaboutdean @captainemwinchester @mogaruke @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @wellthatsrandomkek @jayankles @winchestersflannel

If you’re like this for some reason I couldn’t tag you, I’m really sorry.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #au!dean x reader #spn insert #au!dean winchester x reader #reader x dean #reader x dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x you #you x dean winchester #spn au #spn fluff #spn angst #dean angst #spn insert au

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