#and it took me a while to realize that you already changed your url | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years

Text

How to be safe(r) online

I flatter myself that I am pretty secure online. I’ve written a series of global bestsellers about information security, I’ve worked for EFF for nearly 20 years, I’ve given keynotes at some of the world’s largest infosec conferences. And yet, I have been hacked. It wasn’t even very sophisticated!

It was in 2010. My kid had made a fuss about going to day-care so my wife and I were late walking to work. The cafe we always stopped at for a coffee had longer lines at that hour, so I stood in line while she sat down and read a paper.

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

I had reinstalled my phone’s OS the day before — the same day I’d had three different articles come out. I was hearing from a lot of people about those articles, and I was having to re-key my password in a lot of websites because I’d blown out my browser preferences with the reinstall.

Standing in line, I got a DM from an old friend: “Is this you?” followed by a URL. I clicked it, and my browser opened, then redirected to Twitter. I sighed, thinking that I needed to find the system setting to tell my phone to open tweets in the Twitter app. I typed my Twitter password into my browser, and ordered coffees.

As I was handing my wife her coffee, my phone buzzed three more times. It was three more DMs, from three more old friends: “Is this you?” and the same URL.

My guts twisted. I’d just been phished.

The Twitter worm that got me was simple: they took your Twitter password, logged in as you, and DMed all your friends with “Is this you?” and a phishing URL that looked like Twitter’s login screen. The URL started with https://twitter.com, but continued with .scammysite.com (my mobile browser only showed me the first part).

I got fooled because of a perfect alignment of vulnerabilities — late, long line, new OS, new publications, bad browser design, inattentiveness. If the first phishing DM had come in 5 minutes later, in the flurry with the three others, I’d never have been caught. If we’d been on time and I’d received the DM while at my desk on my laptop, I wouldn’t have been caught.

It’s easy to sneer at people who get fooled by phishers, but imagine this: you are buying a house. You’ve just gone into escrow. You get an email or a phone call or a text from your bank about your mortgage, telling you that you have to complete another form. It’s probably not even the first time that’s happened — buying a house often requires going back several times to complete new forms! It’s high-stakes, high-tension, and the market is so hot that if you miss a form, the house might go to someone else. Maybe you’ve already given your landlord notice or sold your own house.

Do you triple-check the URL your bank gives you? Does it even matter? Your bank is probably using half a dozen fintech services to close your mortgage and escrow. You’re already routinely transmitting sensitive data to companies you’ve never heard of.

I get dozens of phishing emails like this every day, but I’m not actually buying a house, so I ignore them. But if I got one of these on the morning that I was closing on the deed? While juggling movers and finance and maybe a new job and a new school for the kid in another city? I’m not so sure. If you’re honest, you won’t be so sure, either.

That’s the thing we miss about scams — they’re scattered like dandelion seeds. The cost of adding another email address to an untargeted scam is close to zero, and the scammer doesn’t care whether that email is deleted unread anymore than a dandelion cares whether one of its seeds falls on concrete.

The dandelion’s reproductive strategy isn’t to ensure that every seed takes root — it’s to ensure that every crack in every sidewalk has a dandelion growing out of it.

http://www.locusmag.com/Features/2008/05/cory-doctorow-think-like-dandelion.html

11 years ago, I got phished. I immediately realized my mistake and changed my Twitter password, but, like many people then (and now!), I’d reused that password elsewhere.

I’d created my Twitter account while standing in line for a Game Developer’s Conference press pass, after Ev Williams sent me an invite to the beta. I didn’t think I needed a good password for it, because it was a toy that sent you updates about other people’s lunches over SMS. Half a decade later, I had tens of thousands of followers and the account was key to my professional life.

The person who phished me hadn’t targeted me. I was fooled by an embarrassingly blunt and transparent ploy. Is there any way I could have avoided this?

Perhaps. But not by maintaining perfect vigilance, or by never being harried or hasty. The blame-the-victim school of unattainable security locates the infosec pandemic’s problem in human frailty, rather than bad systems.

Good security advice transcends this, and Ars Technica has just published an outstanding guide to securing your online life, in two parts, written by Sean Gallagher.

Part One (“The Basics”) lays out both a way of thinking about security (particularly dispelling the notion that criminals won’t target you because you’re no one special), and a set of (mostly) simple steps you can take to defend yourself against opportunistic, untargeted attacks:

https://arstechnica.com/features/2021/10/securing-your-digital-life-part-1/

Part Two (“The Special Circumstances”) offers advice for people who might be specifically targeted by attackers. That’s not just one percenters and politicians — it can include people whose ex-spouses harass them with stalkerware, middle-schoolers targeted by bullies, and more.

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2021/10/securing-your-digital-life-part-2/

I often get asked what people should do to be more secure, and I offer four basic pieces of advice:

Use a strong, unique password for every service. Get any reputable password manager (including the free one that probably came with your OS) and use it to generate all your passwords. Never use a password that you are capable of remembering — if you can remember it, a computer can guess it (the exception being the password that unlocks your password manager!).

Use two-factor authentication, preferably an authenticator app, like the one that comes with your mobile OS, or an indie like Authy. Turn it on for every account you use regularly, and seek it out when you create a new account. Avoid SMS-based 2FA.

Keep your OS and software up to date. When your OS or app asks you whether you want to update, do it.

Turn on full-disk encryption. It’s free, it came with your device, and it protects your data.

All of this is in Gallagher’s advice, along with something I don’t recommend enough, though I’m obsessive about it myself:

5. Back up your data, offsite, and keep multiple backups.

The easiest way to do this is with an encrypted cloud service. I do some of that, but my first line of defense are cheap, encrypted 1TB thumb drives that I back up to every day. Once a week, I take a disk to an offsite location and swap it with one that’s already there.

Gallagher also offers solid privacy advice:

get a tracker-blocker (like Privacy Badger) and an ad-blocker

change the permission on all of your apps so they can only get your location while you’re using them

change your mobile device’s Bluetooth name to something other than your own (e.g., not “Fred’s phone”)

He’s also got some specific advice I hadn’t really thought about:

beware of a stranger who wants to move a conversation from one app to another (say, from Tinder to Whatsapp), as this is a “signature move” of fraudsters

claim an IRS account for your Social Security Number (warning: this is complicated and I failed in my attempt because my information wasn’t recognized)

https://www.irs.gov/payments/view-your-tax-account

One of the most common questions I get is “Which VPN should I use.” Gallagher’s answer? None of them: “for everyday Internetting, you just don’t need VPNs that much anymore. Transport Layer Security now encrypts a vast majority of Internet traffic, and it’s unlikely that someone is going to grab your credit card data or other personal information off a public Wi-Fi network.”

But that’s for “everyday internetting.” If you’re a whistleblower or someone else likely to be targeted, “use Tor.” He also advises using Signal for encrypted chat, which is good advice for everyone, not just people in high-risk situations.

Another piece of advice offered in Part Two that everyone should follow is locking your credit report.

For people at risk of domestic violence and stalkerware (the two are highly correlated), he suggests Operation Safe Escape:

https://safeescape.org/

All in all, this is excellent advice. If I’d followed it when I was phished, my recovery would have been a lot simpler. 2FA would have defended me, and if it hadn’t, I would only have needed to change a single password.

But some of the advice is less realistic, even if it’s sound: telling people not to click on email links, or to turn off wifi and Bluetooth when they’re out of the house (especially in an era in which the headphone jack is nearly extinct) may be good advice, but realistically, no one’s going to follow it.

As with much in information security, a sound defense requires both technology and policy. You shouldn’t have to turn off Bluetooth and wifi, because both the standards that define them and the implementations in your device should defend you from information leakage. Likewise, mobile OSes shouldn’t default to naming your device after you, and app vendors shouldn’t be able to get your location when you’re not using their apps, period.

Of course, most of us aren’t in a position to do anything about policy. We’re not FCC commissioners, we don’t work in an EU Information Commissioner’s Office or for a state Attorney General.

But that doesn’t mean that we should ignore policy, or give tech advice that no one will follow. A good deal of the threat to our privacy and security doesn’t come from criminals, it comes from large corporations adhering with bad, or out of date, laws.

America trails the world in privacy law. It is long overdue for a federal privacy law, with a private right of action — something ferociously resisted by telcos, ad-tech, and Googbook:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/01/you-should-have-right-sue-companies-violate-your-privacy

Before the FDA was founded, people were routinely sickened and killed by “medicine” that was literally poisonous. I imagine that people got advice then that sounds a lot like our infosec advice today: “Only take medicine from doctors you trust,” “read the labels carefully,” etc.

Today, we have a better system: we make it a crime to poison people or lie to them about what’s in medicine or what they can expect of it.

The advice in Gallagher’s guide is essential, and much of it would apply even in a world where we had good tech policy. But even if you follow all that advice, it won’t protect you from the choices made by governments and corporations that put their priorities ahead of your welfare.

Today is Aaron Swartz Day. One of Aaron’s most memorable quotes is from the fight over SOPA, an idiotic, internet-destroying legal proposal that Aaron helped kill a decade ago: “This is the 21st century. It’s not OK for politicians not to understand the internet anymore.”

https://www.aaronswartzday.org/

The awful state of tech policy is a scandal that puts us all at risk. Security is a team sport, after all. No matter how careful you are, you can still be compromised by someone else’s badly configured technology — the emails you send to someone else may leak, a company may suffer a breach and put your home address on the internet forever, etc.

Aaron fought for better tech policy. A lot of orgs do that today: EFF, of course, but also Public Knowledge, Software Freedom Conservancy, FSF, Creative Commons, Internet Archive, Fight for the Future, SFLC, EDRI, Open Rights Group, and many, many others.

We should all take some measure of responsibility for our technological safety and security, sure — but until we get better tech policy, we’ll just be sticking bandaids on tech’s gaping wounds.

#pluralistic

117 notes · View notes

jovnie · 3 years

Text

Artificial Intelligence | Namjoon

Summary

Namjoon after wondering the internet, came across a website Ad for a personalized A.I made for him and only for his viewing pleasure.

Words 3k

Cyber namjoon au! College namjoon! A.i reader!

Warnings: smut, masturbation, virtual reality, moaning and heavily, medium amount of plot, kind of vanilla, riding, dirty talk, muscular joon. Oral (f), heavy whining, begging, dom joon, verbal joon.

With his eyes glued tiredly to the computer, his hand moved the curser to press play. This was his third year in college, being who knew what at the end. After years of tiredness from research papers to fieldwork, being a chemistry major wasn’t paying off one bit. Not his student debt either. Yawning, his arms stretched up and then out before returning them back to the slightly chipped computer to type the URL in.

With each little tap and click, he answered the questions before being brought back to the previous page. Groaning in utter frustration, he closed his computer and put his head on the computer before meantly screaming. He was half way through the questions and it took him out and how knows if he had 200+ more to do. Sighing, he lifted his head uttering, “at least its not the actual test”

With slight relief, he lifted the mac screen and saw he exited everything on accident. Giving up, he searched for a virtual teacher. With no luck, he stumbled across and Ad for an A.I. with an obvious lack of how the cyber world was or knowledge on A.I, he opened a new tab. With searching the key word. ‘A.I’ a small little text box appeared.

A.I ( Artificial Intelligence )

is an intelligence demonstrated by machines, as opposed to the natural intelligence displayed by humans or animals

After looking up the word and its definition, he thought he had a solid idea of what it was. Therefore he exited the tab and searched the subject and then Ai. After doing so he scrolled and clicked what he assumed to be a cite and looked at what it had to offer.

“This is neat. Ah, Let’s see where this goes! Maybe if I do this I can study with a human, I think?” He spoke aloud, looking at the options. Waking up a bit from the sudden excitement, he stretched his body and looked around for a notepad and pen. While doing so, a pop up appeared.

Stacy is single and is 65 miles away from you, wanna interact

Once namjoon returned, he saw the women and clicked off. He figured this wasn’t an appropriate or free ran website. Itching the back of his head, he continued until another pop up this time an ad appeared.

Create your own human A.I with unlimited uses here

Curiously he clicked the ad and saw you had to buy it, immediately he got up from his desk. Legs numb a bit from the lack of moment, he grabbed his wallet and took out his student card. Shopping he looked at the computer than a card. “Yeah no,” he laughed to himself, knowing he could catch a case he didn’t want so he grabbed his credit card before swiveling the chair to sit down. After blindly trusting the site, he was taken to the tutorial and saw a fully naked man on the screen. In shock, he shut the computer down to realize it wasn’t that A. I he needed. Sighing, he flipped the top back up and immediately felt hopeless with the exam. Seeing there’s a female version, he looked around to make sure none on the body was there. He knew he had the room to himself, but it’s still worth it. You never knew, who could be watching.

From there he closed his blinds, turned off the lights, and got back to the computer. He started to create your body down to the smallest detail. He had time as his classes for the week were canceled for finals and other school-related activities like college tours etc.

“Finally, you’re done and now we give you a name!” he smirked softly, rubbing his palm over his jeans on accident. With a few glances and searches, he named you y/n. Smiling, he pressed continue and saw there was an outfit room and spent a few more moments picking something cute, casual and sexy for your body frame. After that was done, he pressed continue. Suddenly there was timer and another pop up.

TIME REMAINING: 23hours 59mins and 23seconds

Thank you for ordering “Y/n” the A.I, everything is processing as you read. While you wait, please pick from the available voices and chose which one suits your needs “Namjoon!”

He had no clue what to expect, but it was worth the wait. Meanwhile, he spent an hour going through the types of voices he wanted you to have, till he could find your voice a perfect match for his needs. After pressing finish, he plugged his computer in and left his computer on as he got out of the chair and brought himself to his bed to sleep. Thankfully, he took a shower hours ago and was already more steps to sleeping than ever. Soon after, his head laid softly on the white pillow and his eyes began to close asleep.

The next day, around 5minuets, until it was time to see what he had gotten himself into. He moved his viewing location to his bed as it was simply more comfortable. Beforehand, he ate and cleaned out items he thought might me helpful with what he thought he’d get into in any minute now. While waiting with pain, he watched the minutes drop one by one until it was less than a minute and he grabbed his seanna drift, a virtual reality set made for his computer and recommended from an email sent to him earlier. He figured it came with more than just the yearly plan he paid for.

As his wallet cried, he read the direction of the screen ok how to connect the device to the website and began following the video instructions. As they told him where to find things and hook it up, he saw that it needed to charge and groaned loudly in annoyance. So he spent that saddened hour, cleaning his room till he saw green and followed the instructions once again.

“Okay ready!” he said, as the Vr headset and earbuds sat softly on his head. With wow and o’s he saw you in this basic room with the lights off and sudden shoe-making noises. Turning his head, he saw you turn on the lights and sat on the bed in front of him. Looking around he took note of his virtual surroundings before grabbing his flashlight and pouring lube he had trouble finding on the table and poor it inside the toy.

Waiting for you to make a move, he got up and placed his computer on the bedside table, and laid on his back. As shirtless and gray sweatpants he was, he still felt clothed. In that moment he took off his sweats, leaving his boxers on he noticed the screen changed onto the bed and it spoked him slowly. With you laying on his chest, he grabbed a free pillow and hugged it as if you were there.

“You feel warm” you chuckled, as namjoon blushed in the shock.

“Thanks, I guess you can see and hear me?” He asked, rubbing you “the pillow softly”

“I can, my system works like an actual person” you mentioned look g him in the eyes. Confused, he hummed in agreement. Whining, he was very pleased with how human you were and a bit concerned as well. He was amused and amazed at how advanced society had become.

After small talk, he warmed up to your very realistic body, voice and actions. Not to mention his hands moving slowly up and down his length as he watched you shower and how cute you looked when you did. Moving a bit faster, you looked and the system told you he was jerking off.

In a surprise you turned around and looked at him, covering your body. With him in tune with idea, he smirked. “what’s wrong baby? You don’t like when I view your body like this?” He asked, grinding his hips against the pillow.

“Well, um I do. Its just new to me okay” your system lies, as it registered grunts from namjoon.

“Well can you turn around for me?” He adds, taking his toy and liking it up to his actual length. Nodding, you turned around and bent over. As namjoon said his movements as listed in the tutorial earlier, you opened your legs as if he was spreading them for you. Holding onto the wall, he said more commands, and eventually, it looked like he was fucking you and it caused an involuntary grunt from his mouth.

“Fuck!” He cursed, sliding the toy up and down in a slow pace as he watched how his camera was moving. Looking at you he got up from a lying position, to his knees and moved the pillow into a u shape and placed his toy so it could feel more real to him.

Hearing your soft moans and a good view of your ass, he began to thrust faster into the toy, holding the pillow down as if he was your back and began moaning curse words. Luckley his head gear caught that and made your moans shift to match his rhythm.

“Ah! Ah! Please don’t stop!” You moaned, griping the shower walls looking back as his eyes wondered your body and all heard from him were grunts. Keeping your ask, he tried pacing himself so he wouldn’t cum too soon as the feeling was slowly building the more he got more into it.

“God! Fuck” he cursed again, as his head went back imaging you bounce back on him. Moving the toy to the desired speed, he kept going closing his eyes and listening to your moans as he reached his end. Jerking forward once more, his cock twitched as his cum spilled inside the toy. After coming down from the slight high, he looked at you who was hard breathing, body slightly shaking and a stream of cum laced your ass with grace.

After today’s use of the A.I he unplugged the device and let it charge. Shortly after, he exited the screen you were on and went to take a shower. Reflecting and thinking how could he make this experience even better and with that thought, he googled the company and saw they made Bluetooth connected toys. Browsing he found a torso toy and paid the extra $15 for the next day delivery. Smiling, he closed his computer and went to beg shortly after.

The next night, he had the box that contained the sex toy. He took it out and realized he picked the right color and body for you. As he read the directions he plugged it to charge and went to do some light reading verire coming back. Seeing the full bars on the side of the torso toy, he grabbed his headset and plugged everything in and made sure the section was secured.

You have connected toy 1251819, your system will now function off of movements from the toy and vr audio. Please speak select the place you wish to be in

After reading namjoon said “library” soon after, you showed up in the same outfit as he picked, sitting in the chair.

“Oh hi namjoon! What are you doing here?” You asked, smiling and putting the book down?

“Well I’m light studying for our test, mind if I join you?* he tells, as the vr moves his view next to you. While he looks around in his vr set, he notices your in a secluded area. As his hands move around the half thigh it registers and you blush slight.

"Sorry” he apologized, looking you up and down. As you told him it was okay, the screen of consent popped up and he knew it was okay to touch you. In that moment, he got on his knees again this time with a body like toy underneath. He instructed you to strip and as he watched you take off your clothes he rubbed his length in his bare hands.

“Good girl now gets on your back for me on the table,” he praised, watching you as your legs reminded closed. Opening them on the toy, you followed. He rubbed his hands around your thigh and rubbed around your lips till he found your clit and gently rubbed you in circles as you began moaning for him.

“You want me to stop?” He smirked, nodding no he stopped.

“Then tell me what you want” he adds, rubbing and teasing the area slowly. After explaining that you want him badly and would do anything, he removed his hand and rubbed his tip around your entrance.

“Please, please namjoon. I want it badly. You felt so good the last time” you told whining softly.

“Oh, you liked that?” He smirked chuckling softly under his breath. Nodding, he lubed you up hearing you moan to his touched, and soon began softly thrusting into you. Griping your shoulder softly, he stuped down your breast. As he began sucking on them soft, he moved in deeper feeling the toy clench on him. Surprised he jerked forward and went faster. It really felt similar to phaycal and actual human body. He continued thrusting, leaning over the you and the sting harder as grunts and your moaning filled his ear.

“S-so big namjoon, it feels-” you interrupted with a moan and he groaned feeling the toys warmness and the wetness of the amount of lube in you.

“Mm keep talking baby, tell me how good it feels!” He demanded, groaning and curing as he went harder. After a few words, his body started going faster as it started to feel too good on him. He told you to just moan and take him as he began chasing his high, which was beyond what he knew. As you moaned his name and reacted to his length and speed, namjoons grunts turned into soft whines and moans as he enjoyed himself with you.

“Oh you feel so good baby” he breathed out heavily. “Ah don’t stop cumming for me” he added, as the system didn’t stop cumming on him causing namjoon to thrust harder as the machine started releasing water already put in the toy on him. Feeling even more organic, he rubbed your clit getting you to choke on your moan as he went harder. Groaning deep and now at an animalistic speed the bed started speaking and his body kept going as he became more vocal with the feeling.

“OH GOD IN CUMMING!” he announced yelling, cumming so hard he started feeling sick and breathing so deep it made the feeling even more unbearable. Coming once more, he fell on top of the toy and laid there till he was able to come down from his high and plug his stuff back up. Looking he saw that not only did his toy break, but his computer was also malfunction with errors on the screen.

With not a lot of energy, he closed his computer and sat the now broken toy beside him as he breathed heavily. Not to mentioned the multiple knocks at his door, he assumed where from one of his neighbors.

“Just his luck” he whispered as he softly passed out sleep.

#bts fanfction #bts x reader #bts smut #bts #bts fics #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon #namjoon #au #bts fanfic #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x y/n

83 notes · View notes

yutahoes · 3 years

Text

Sakura

(Part Seven)

One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven

genre : Chaptered, Fluff,

pairing : childhood friends: soccer player! Nakamoto Yuta x single mom! Y/N

word count : 3.3k words

You’ll always be his Sakura.

@ailoveyuta @loona-4-eva @aiforyuu @2-3-t-i @cosmiclatte28 @url-lindo-sexy @nuoyipeach @aaasteroidsky @thisis-myname @yutazen01

Her smile that time in Osaka is still imprinted in Yuta’s mind that it haunts him even in his dreams. It was winter in their last year of their teens when Yuta begged Y/N’s mom if she could spend the holidays in Osaka with his family. Of course, his parents were also behind this and promised that they’ll take care of Y/N. And even if he’s just remembering it now, he still can’t believe that her mom actually allowed her to go to another country.

His parents quickly greeted her when she came to the airport, asking if she had trouble during the flight but she smiled at them answering them in fluent Japanese that made him proud. She seemed so natural talking to them, even calling them okaasan and otousan like they’re one family. “Yuta!” she called excitedly, arms wide open to hug him which he accepted. His parents were just smiling at him knowingly. “Bogoshipda.”

Who wouldn’t? The last time he saw her was the day she left for Chicago. No, the day before that. Although he and his mom sent them off, he refused to look at her that time. "I missed you too." He whispered that made her smile widely. Something changed about her. Is it because they never saw each other for years? Or because his memory of her is stuck in the last time they were together? Is it because they already grew up? Maybe it's because of Chicago.

His family had been welcoming to her and they were equally amazed that Y/N can understand and speak Japanese. Since it's just days before New Year, their house is full of people but they made her feel like she is a part of the family. "You should bring her to Osaka Castle." One of his aunts claimed that made Yuta nod.

"Why not bring her to Universal Studios?" Another asked and Y/N just nodded, looking excited. Yuta put his phone on top of the table. "Otousan, can you drive us to Hirakata Park tomorrow?" He asked which made everyone look at him.

Y/N was so surprised seeing a Cardcaptor Sakura exhibition that she squealed in excitement at the entrance making Yuta smile. This feels like the Y/N he knows. They kept on looking at the different artworks related to the anime she liked since she was young, even staying too long at some merchandise. "Should I buy that? Sakura is really cute."

Yuta chuckled. "You can't even eat that." That made her glare at him, pouting. But Yuta remembered that merchandise, even telling himself that he’ll save up to buy that for her birthday.

She was really happy to eat in a café that is inspired by the same anime. She kept on taking pictures saying that she'll show them to her mom. "I knew you'll love it here."

"Can I just live here?"

He laughed once again. "You can ask my parents to adopt you."

Y/N wrapped her arms on Yuta's arm that made him freeze. What's with the sudden skinship? "Shall I call you oniichan?"

He smiled at her then frowned. "No."

It was almost nighttime when they reached Dohtonbori. Tons of pictures were taken and she kept on running around, claiming that everything in Japan is pretty. "It's prettier when there are cherry blossoms. You should go back in spring." But honestly, he just wanted her to stay here until Spring. Or maybe for a long time.

Should he ask his parents to adopt her? But he doesn't want him to call her imouto.

The lights illuminating the whole area looked magical. Why does he like it more today than when he's out here with his parents? Why does the light look more lovely today? The cold breeze made him pull his oversized coat closer. Why is it so cold? Glancing at her, he realized that she may be cold as well. Does Chicago have a cold season like this?

Knowing that she's focused on looking at those little trinkets by the store, he went to another store to buy something. Her mom will kill him if she gets sick in this weather. Besides, it's going to be busier this time of the year. "Y/N." He called that made her look at him. He put on a white scarf around her neck, wrapping it nicely on her. "My Christmas gift."

She had to laugh at that, raising a snow globe. "And I was thinking of buying one for you." She turned her attention to the different snow globes on the shelf. "You should pick one, Yuta."

But he never looked at the snow globes. Instead, his focus was on her. The lights illuminate her, creating a picturesque background. The white snow falling gently on her, adding to the effect. He badly wanted to imprint that image in his mind. When did she become this pretty? When she turned to him, he lightly gasped. Why did he feel hot all of a sudden? Why can he hear his heart beating on his chest?

Y/N shook the snow globe with the Osaka castle inside then handed it to him. "I'll get you this, onii chan." It annoyed him. Why does she like using that word?

The whole week was full of preparations for the New Year and his relatives had supplied her with the rituals they must do. She helped in making mochi with his grandmother who seemed so fond of her. Even his grandfather, who is usually a scary man, smiles a lot because of her. She really fit well in his family. But not as his sister.

When the clock struck midnight, he realized what it was. She was playing some sparklers with his cousins, laughing along with them. Her eyes twinkling the same way they did when she was staring at those snow globes. Taeyong was right all along. He is in love with her.

Kareshi. It's a better term than oniisan. Something that he wanted her to call him right now. "Y/N, I…" But a ringtone stopped his words, someone was calling. "It must be your mom, you should pick up." The girl nodded, handing her sparkler to Yuta before heading inside the house.

God, what is wrong with him? Is he really going to confess to her? He must be out of his mind. Yuta just finished the stick of sparkler before heading inside to check on her. She was seated on the couch, smiling on her phone. "They are all so nice to me, eomma." She then smiled when she noticed Yuta. "We're going to the temple tomorrow with obaasan." Hatsumonde. It's a Japanese ritual that they had done since he was young and since she's here, his grandmother wanted her to experience visiting a shrine. "You want to talk to Yuta?"

The guy just shook his head, sitting next to her, but she pushed the phone to her which he reluctantly answered. "Eommeoni, annyeong." She sounded so happy talking to him on the phone but again his focus was on the door next to him who was playing the kendama, a Japanese ball and cup toy. "Please take care of Y/N." And even if she doesn't say those words, he knows he'll take care of her.

When she dropped the call, Yuta saw her phone wallpaper. A guy playing basketball. It looks like a photo taken. Is she dating someone? Did she mention anything about a guy in her letters? Is that why she's prettier? Is she in love?

The question was answered when they visited the shrine the next day. She is indeed prettier especially when she wore a kimono that his cousin let her borrow, little trinkets adored her hair. She looked like a native Japanese. A yome. But he shook his head. He can't be thinking of that.

They were getting their omikuji, him and her with another set of female and male cousins that are older than the two of them. When Y/N pulled her paper strip, his female cousin shook her head. "You'll probably get pregnant this year." She claimed that startled her. "Are you dating someone?" Y/N nodded.

"You two are already dating?" His male cousin asked, referring to her and Yuta. She shook her head saying that he's a schoolmate from Chicago. So he's really seeing the guy on her phone wallpaper. When Yuta opened his paper strip, his cousin just tapped his back. "You should have confessed earlier." But he just stared at the bad luck written on his paper.

His second regret. Why did it take a long time for him to realize these feelings?

It was Yuta's Summer Break when his parents gave him the airplane tickets to Chicago that surprised him. They had talked to Y/N and her mom that he's visiting. And although he doesn't want to go there, he was forced by his family. "You should at least tell her that you like her. Maybe it can change something."

The city was different and he felt really foreign, different than when he first came to Korea. "Yuta!" Y/N called, running to where he is and quickly hugging him. What is this girl doing? In front of all these people? "I skipped class to pick you up. Why can't you hug me?" He raised an eyebrow at her. Why is she so bold? Chicago is indeed different. Yeokshi Chicago.

He jokingly crushed her on his arms but she didn't laugh, which is odd. He felt her breathing on his neck, hot and hard. "I missed you, Yuta." It felt different. Maybe because they're in Chicago. He didn't pay that much attention to that especially when she introduced a guy named Johnny Seo. The person on her wallpaper. The guy she's dating.

Johnny is a really nice guy. He showed him what Chicago is while waiting for her to finish her classes. He made an effort to talk to him in Korean or English, sometimes in Japanese that he heard from her. He shared stories about her, the Y/N Yuta doesn't personally know. He knew what to order for her in coffee shops, even at restaurants. He speaks to her calmly, staring at her as if she's the only person who mattered in the world. And he knew, she's in the right place with Johnny.

It was Saturday when Johnny and Y/N brought him to The Bean. The weather was hot and there were a lot of people because of the weekend but Yuta didn't care. "You haven't been to Chicago if you didn’t visit this place." Johnny claimed that made the girl nod. They took tons of pictures, Y/N teasing that he needed to show it to his cousins.

Johnny offered to get them coffee, leaving the two of them in the park while still taking pictures. "Johnny is pretty nice." Yuta started that made her smile, nodding at him. "You never mentioned him in your letters."

"I don't know what to tell you." She answered quietly. "But I like him. So much." He wanted to stop her that moment, wanted her to not continue what she's saying or it will just hurt him. "He helped me a lot to quickly adapt here."

A bitter smile escaped his lips. The same way she helped him back in Korea. How dare she fall in love with another guy that way? But when Johnny came with their coffees at hand, he saw the twinkle in her eyes. The twinkle that made his heart flutter. She really does love Johnny. And who is he to take that twinkle away? Who is he to tell her what she can and can't do? He's just her friend. A very dear friend.

He drank his coffee watching as how the taller guy fixed her hair, smiling at her with a lot of love in his eyes. Bittersweet. That was what it was. It's hurtful yet romantic. And he can't believe that he will always remember Chicago with those feelings. Yeoksi Chicago.

Johnny loves Y/N. He's sure of that. And he honestly doesn't want to believe that it didn't work well with them. What really happened? Did she give up? Or is he the one who gave up? That was the question in his mind seeing Johnny in front of the two kids' school. He can still remember him but does Johnny even remember him?

Yuta can see the two kids going outside the gates and honestly, he was scared that they'll run to their dad. He shouldn't have come here today. Why did he even come here? "Daddy!" He heard Jae call running to his dad. Of course, he must have missed him so much that the younger guy even called him 'appa' last time. But he noticed Cherry stopping on her tracks.

She noticed him but he only smiled at her, planning to just go. He was about to enter his car when he heard the younger girl say, "Can I hang out with Yuta samchon?" That was when Johnny noticed him, Jae even waved at him excitedly. "He promised me that we'll go back to the library when he gets back from Spain." He did promise her. But her dad is here. Isn't she excited to see him again?

"Is it alright if Cherry goes with you?" Yuta nodded. He wanted to hang out with them anyways. "I'll just tell Y/N." Cherry just walked chicly to him, her eyes as dark as when he first met her. Why is she like this? Does she not like Johnny? Jae told Yuta that he wanted to hang out with his dad, even telling him to take care of his noona that he found so adorable.

Yuta bid farewell to the father-son, opening the backseat door for the younger girl. Cherry was just looking at her shoes when Yuta entered the car, starting the engine to drive her to the library she loved. "Samchon…" she called which made him look at her from the mirror of the car, humming as a response. "Can you buy me a cake today?"

It was a request he can't say no. This was the first time that Cherry asked him for something and he's somehow glad that it is just a simple thing. He parked in front of a pretty café, helping her get down from the car, and even opened the door for her. "You can order whatever you want." He urged, eyeing all the selections of different flavored cakes.

The girl pointed at a white cake with red cherries on top, making Yuta smile. A cherry cake. "Can you buy me the whole cake?" The guy just nodded. It's not bad to spoil her once in a while. He told the girl on the counter their order, handing him his card when she made another request, "Do you have candles?" Candles? Is it her birthday? Is that why Johnny is here in Korea?

He let the younger girl put candles in between the cherries of her cake. "Is it your birthday today?" He asked and she nodded casually that startled him. Why are they together? She should be with her parents. "Don't you want to share the cake with your brother?"

Cherry shook her head. "I always share everything with him. He and eomma never liked cherries anyways." He pursed his lips at that, she does hate cherries. Ironically, she named her firstborn with something that she didn't like. "And dad hates cherry." She was staring at the cake while saying those words in a hushed tone. Is she referring to the fruit or another thing? "Can you light it up, samchon?" Her eyes were moist, sparkling against the light, like she wanted to cry.

He held the top of her head, smiling. "Wait up. I'll just go get something." He said then stood up. "Stay here and wait for me. I won't be long." But she only stared at him in worry. Yuta handed her his phone, promising that he'll be back quickly. He crossed the street to get her some flowers then cursed himself for not knowing what color she wanted. Does she even like flowers?

To be safe, he followed the florist's advice in getting a white rose for 'his daughter'. There was a new expression on Cherry's face when he handed her the single white flower, an emotion he hasn't seen from her before. "Girls should receive at least a flower on their birthday." He reasoned out then lit up all the candles on the cake. She whispered something on herself as a wish before blowing the candles one at a time.

Yuta took away the candles then started slicing the cake. He placed one slice on Cherry's plate, even topping it with cherries on top. It was the younger girl who gave him his slice of the vanilla cake. "Do you want to do anything else? Ice skating?"

"Can we just go ice skating with eomma and Jae some time?" He nodded. She always thinks about them. "I'll just finish the book in the library today."

It is her birthday yet she's silently reading a suspense book while seated on a bean couch. Yuta just bought her some snacks and got a book to read so he wouldn't get bored. He would smile at her little gasps and remembered how Y/N would be like that while reading manga. Cherry is indeed a splitting image of her. It's crazy.

"Samchon," Cherry called, closing the hardbound book she was reading earlier. Is she done? That fast? "When you were young, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

He chuckled at that question. She is still a kid. "I want to be a soccer player."

"How about mom?"

Yuta glanced at her. "She wanted to be an illustrator." He remembered how good her drawings are and even pursue that passion until her college years. "But you know, your mom suddenly wrote to me one day and said that she wanted to be a mom."

"Can dreams change?" Cherry asked innocently. There's a certain air of maturity in the little girl that Yuta always forgets that she's just a kid. Now, she looks like a little girl who wonders about life.

Yuta nodded at the question. "What do you want to be when you grow up, Cherry?"

"A detective." That's a nice dream. Maybe that's why she likes reading all these Agatha Christie books. "When I become a detective, I will help children find their dads." That sparked his curiosity. What? "I wanted to find my dad."

"Johnny is your dad."

"He's not." She exclaimed which made Yuta wide-eyed. "Eomma got pregnant with me even before she married dad. She had Jae because she wanted to save her and dad's marriage." That was some wild accusations from a child.

Yet, it seemed rather logical.

It was a mystery to him why Johnny and Y/N broke up when he saw how much they liked each other. They had two children, isn't that enough reason to stay together? He remembered all the conversations with Cherry about her dad, how sad her reaction is, and how quiet her voice is when talking about him. The image of the younger girl who looked awkward seeing her dad flashed on his mind. She's wary of him. Not scared, not angry. She just doesn't look like someone who knew what she should do with her dad. She looked like she doesn't belong.

But then again, maybe it's just her.

Maybe he can help her. He can probably prove that Johnny is her dad. "Cherry, how old are you?"

"Eight."

'Seven years, turning eight' He can hear Y/N's voice in his mind saying those words. The same age as Cherry. The last time they saw each other was eight years. In Chicago. After that night.

"Samchon, do you know who my real dad is?"

Yuta gulped. He probably knows.

Fuck, he might just be Cherry's dad.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Eight

#yuta fluff #yuta nakamoto fluff #yuta #yuta nakamoto #nct fluff #yuta chaptered #nakamoto yuta chaptered #nakamoto yuta fluff

101 notes · View notes

imherongraystairstrash · 3 years

Note

Hello there you beautfiul blog user and writer! If you are open to accept prompts or to get ideas to future fics may I suggest a fic of lil Christopher Lightwood and when their parents found out he needed some glasses? I love how well you write him

Hello beautiful Anon!! Thank you so much for the request! It's called August for literally no reason whatsoever, btw. Anyway here’s little Kit getting his first pair of distance glasses (as a user of said glasses, I’m drawing from personal experiences).

August

Characters: Christopher Lightwood, Gabriel Lightwood & Cecily Lightwood/Herondale

...

“Good, Kit,” Gabriel said from where he was kneeling beside the small boy.

His son smiled up at him with wide, blue eyes—that looked lilac purple in the sunlight—and put down his bow. “Did I get it in the centre?”

“Almo—” Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean? Can’t you see the target?”

Kit squinted his eyes. “A tiny bit. But I can’t see the arrow.”

Gabriel’s confusion grew. “Son,” he said, standing and walking a couple of metres away from where he was standing. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

Gabriel was indeed holding up three fingers. “Hm.” He said. “I guess you couldn’t possibly need new glasses.”

Christopher shrugged.

“Perhaps your current glasses are interfering. Here, take them off.”

Kit obliged. He looked at the arrow and fumbled with the string, trying to see where the arrow’s tail was.

“Papa, I’m getting dizzy.” He said.

“Oh, then never mind, put them back on.” Gabriel said, quickly, not wanting Christopher to get a headache.

Once Kit adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, both of them stood there, thinking about what they should do.

“Can we just continue training?” Kit asked.

“Yes,” Gabriel said, a relieved smile on his face.

…

“Are you teaching our five-year-old son how to shoot a bow and arrow?” Cecily asked from the doorway, a while later.

Gabriel glanced at her momentarily and nodded.

Cecily leaned her hip against the doorframe and crossed her arms. “Is he good?”

“His form is exceptional, but he can’t seem to shoot it to the center.”

“Well,” Cecily said, walking inside and kneeling down beside her son. He did, in fact, have perfect form, something he somehow must have inherited from his father. “He doesn’t have to excel at it.”

“Of course not.” Gabriel said. “I’m just confused.”

Kit shot the arrow and skipped over to the target. “It’s closer!” He said turning to his parents excitedly.

“Wonderfully done, Kit bach,” Cecily said, smiling widely.

Gabriel sighed at how naturally Cecily could speak to their children and encourage them. Whenever he tried it, he felt awkward. Will sometimes teased him at times over how he couldn’t train children. Cecily told him to just treat them as though he were training adolescents or adults, that his children won’t think anything of him being less enthusiastic.

“Why is he walking up to the target?” Cecily asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“He says he can’t see it well.”

Cecily craned her head to look at him. “He probably needs glasses.”

“He already has glasses.” Gabriel pointed out.

“Other types of glasses, you nitwit. Ones for long distances. Didn’t that cross your mind?”

“It did! I even checked to see if he needed them.”

“How?”

“I held up some fingers and he could see them just fine.” Gabriel said, defensively.

Cecily gave him the you’re-a-fool face. “Of course he can bloody see your fingers! That’s not a proper test as to whether he can see or not!” she said, exasperated.

“Then how do we test it?” Gabriel asked.

Cecily set Kit’s bow and took hold of his hand, pulling him along. “We leave it to the experts.”

…

He has Myopia as well as Hyperopia. I’d even say he is more nearsighted than farsighted.

“What does that mean?” Gabriel whispered to Cecily.

“I don’t know,” Cecily mouthed.

Brother Jeremiah looked into Christopher’s eyes, and Gabriel had the urge to go to his son and spare him the sight. Christopher shifted from where he was sitting, trying to look at his parents. Jeremiah put a hand on his chin to keep his gaze on him, so that he could see his eyes better. Cecily took Gabriel’s hand as if to say, calm down; he’ll be alright.

Gabriel squeezed it back and watched as Jeremiah closed the lids of Kit’s eyes and hovered his fingers over them.

He must have told Kit to open his eyes, because suddenly they flew open.

Gabriel didn’t understand the procedure The Brothers used for checking eyesight. All he knew was that after a while, Brother Jeremiah took Kit’s glasses and turned to Gabriel and Cecily, waiting for one of them to follow him.

Cecily used Gabriel’s knee to get up and went with Brother Jeremiah to get the glasses fixed while Gabriel stayed with Christopher.

Gabriel walked over to his son and sat down next to him.

“Well, son, I’ll admit that I have no idea what’s wrong with your glasses.” He said with a half smile.

“I can’t see far away.” Kit said. “Myopia means my eyes are curved differently, so they can’t focus the light normally. So, I can’t see from far away as well as up close.”

Gabriel turned to him, surprised. “How did you know that?”

“Uncle Henry explained it to me.” He said, shrugging. “I wanted to know why I needed glasses in the first place.”

Gabriel ruffled his hair. “You always know the right questions to ask, don’t you, ducks?”

He didn’t know how he ended up with a son like Christopher, who had such a sharp mind at so young. The reason as to why some people needed glasses had never crossed his mind, but Kit’s mind seemed to always be working, questioning why things and people were the way they were. Some people thought that Christopher was absent-minded, but Gabriel knew that it was because his brain was constantly working, not engaging in the current conversation, because it paled in comparison to what he was thinking about, or because there were too many things going on at once.

He looked at his son, who was looking up at him with wide eyes and his head tilted to the side. He looked like his beautiful mother in that small gesture.

“Can you even see me?” Gabriel asked, with a smile.

“Not really. You’re a little blurry.”

“Blurry.”

“A Papa-looking blur.”

Gabriel laughed out loud as Cecily came inside.

“We’re in luck,” She announced. “The Brother’s have temporary glasses with Christopher’s exact prescription that he can use while his are being fixed.” She came over with said glasses and carefully put them on Kit.

They immediately slipped down his nose.

“I think they’re a bit too big.” Gabriel said.

“Well, it’s that or he doesn’t see.” Cecily said, laughing.

…

“Do you like Kit’s temporary glasses, Cecy?” Gabriel asked, knowing perfectly well that she adored them.

“He is the most adorable little thing that’s walked the planet.” Cecily said, glancing at Christopher, who was lagging a bit behind them, staring at the witchlight stones as they passed by them, walking out of the Basilias.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Gabriel said, opening the doors for the others to go out, “next week he gets his actual glasses back.”

“Don’t remind me,” Cecily said mournfully.

Gabriel held out his hand for Christopher to take, and was surprised when he didn’t take it.

Gabriel looked down and realized that he wasn’t even there. “Kit?” he asked.

Cecily and Gabriel both stopped and turned around. Christopher stood frozen a couple of steps behind them, his jaw hanging open as he stared up at the trees.

“What’s the matter, Kit?” Cecily asked.

“I can see each individual leaf.” He mumbled. “If I wanted to, I could count them all!” He looked up at his mother with a huge grin on his face.

Cecily had always had a soft spot for her son, but with the oversized frames on his small head, the bridge slipping down his nose occasionally, Cecily felt her heart melting.

“You could,” she said, holding out a hand for him to take. “But then you’d miss all of the other beautiful things you can now see.”

Christopher took her hand, casting a long look at the tree before following her.

There was a slight skip to his step as he looked around, taking in the world, his gaze always returning to the trees, which seemed to be the most fascinating revelation.

“Are you going to go back home and practice archery with your father?” Cecily asked.

Kit nodded happily.

Cecily didn’t think Gabriel really understood that Kit only really liked archery because it was time he could spend with his father. He was always nervous in anything that had to do with fatherhood, terrified that he’d end up like Benedict.

Cecily had told him time and time again that his children will love him unconditionally, unless he gave them reason not to, but she also knew that it was hard for Gabriel. His relationship with his father was a mixture of love and abuse, the line between the two becoming so unnoticeable, that Gabriel had a hard time telling the difference.

Cecily had faith in him, however. Especially as she looked at Gabriel and Kit in front of her, the latter sitting on the former’s shoulders, taking his glasses on and off, comparing the way he could see without glasses and the way he could see with them on.

Christopher turned around. “Mama, I can see the entire world!” He held his arms out wide, a wide grin on his face, as though he were presenting its beauty.

Cecily laughed and put a hand on his back, “Yes, bach, the world is a beautiful place, isn’t it?” She looked at Gabriel. He took her hand, kissing the back of it and let their interlaced hands swing between them as they walked back home.

...

Tagging: @tsccreatorsnet @atla-lok143 @rinadragomir @youngreckless @autumnangel20 @julemmaes @cupcakesandkittens @no-scones-allowed @fictionally-fantastic @stxr-thxif @writeforjordelia @itsdaughterofthemoon @jordeliasupremacy @cordelia-cardale @will-effing-herondale @axoloteca @heronstairs2014 @ilovemanicures

If you want to be on my tag list, or if you changed your url recently and your not in the tag list anymore, let me know! Also, if you want to be removed, send me a dm! I won’t be offended in the slightest :) Oh, and if you asked to be on the tag list and you’re not on it, please tell me (I’m very absentminded lol).

#christopher lightwood #gabriel lightwood #cecily lightwood #cecily x gabriel #tsc #gabrily #tlh #tlh fanfiction #tid #tid fanfiction #tsc fanfiction

62 notes · View notes

bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years

Note

If you're taking fic requests, for your swashbuckler au, could I ask how you'd think Jaskier would react to an *actual* sirens song? Enthralled?? Resistant? Sung promises of his beloved sea captain even though he's literally a step away, if that??? The irony got to me and now I'm just curious lol (ps your username is golden and made me laugh thanks for that lol💙)

(I’m so glad you like my url! I had a laugh coming up with it and I was really glad when it wasn’t already taken. I hope limrx doesn’t get mad at me for changing the canon of this au but just for this ficlet I had a great idea...also fair warning the ending is kinda Horny)

Jaskier didn’t notice anything strange when the Kaer Morhen started to round the corner of some tiny island while making her way out to sea. He didn’t know why the other men kept turning their heads towards the land mass and pausing their work to stare off at some distant piece of sky. He didn’t realize anything was wrong until Billy Jukes nearly threw himself overboard. By then, everyone could hear the singing.

Everyone except Jaskier.

“Sirens!” Geralt shouted, grimacing with the effort it was taking him to continue steering the ship. Every muscle in his body was tense. “Cover your ears and get the wax from belowdecks! Run!”

Jaskier wasn’t hearing shit.

Still, he raced to the hold and grabbed two pinches of wax from a half-melted tallow candle, carrying them back to the quarterdeck and thrusting them at Geralt. “Quickly, Captain, put this in your ears.”

“What about you?”

“I can’t hear them!”

“What?!” Geralt was shocked. His amber eyes flashed with concern and mild fright but he took the wax from Jaskier and stuffed it into his ears nonetheless. “Why can’t you hear anything?”

Jaskier shrugged. He could have answered aloud but Geralt wouldn’t have been able to hear him anyway. He tied the emergency rope around Geralt’s waist, which was usually only used during torrential storms, and secured the Captain against the wheel. He wandered closer to the railing and peered towards shore. He could barely see them, laying half-in and half-out of the water, their shark-like tails stirring little waves against the surface.

Sirens.

Their mouths were moving but the ex-noble remained unbothered.

He stayed in that spot until they were well out of range. When it was safe, he returned to Geralt’s side and released him from the helm. “Why can’t you hear them?”

“I don’t know,” Jaskier murmured. The Captain could see how frightened his little nymph really was. The brunette’s hands fisted into the black cloth of Geralt’s shirt. “Please don’t throw me overboard, sir, please!”

“My sweet siren,” Geralt began. “And I can call you that whenever I want since we know for sure now that you have some measure of mer-blood in you; I will never throw you overboard. Your sisters would surely eat you because you were probably the runt of the litter."

"Hey!"

"I jest, Jask."

“My Estate...”

“Landlocked, you told us many times.”

“How?”

“Magic is chaotic,” Geralt shrugged. “No matter. Now we have a creature of the sea on our side.”

“Thinking about that escape in Novigrad...it makes sense,” Eskel added, wandering over. Starkey was close behind and nodding sagely.

“No wonder you have the Captain so bewitched.”

“Oh no!” Jaskier wrenched himself from the pirate’s comforting arms and backed away, horrified. “Geralt, I didn’t mean to - oh gods what have I -”

“My siren,” the Captain smiled, stepping forward and reaching out for Jaskier’s hand. Eskel and Starkey moved away again, granting the two men some much-needed privacy. “My darling little nymph. My heart and soul would belong to you regardless of your parentage. I think there’s more human in you than siren, anyway. You still can’t hypnotize anyone with your voice or show them their wildest dreams in a song.”

“What did you see when they sang to you?” Jaskier asked, voice almost too quiet to hear. Geralt knew the ex-noble needed some reassurance.

“I saw you.”

“What?”

“When she was putting her spell on me and trying to get me to leap into the waves,” Geralt said, trailing his fingertips down Jaskier’s spine and lighting up every one of the younger man’s nerves. “She sang about you. How lovely she could make you look for me. How pliant she could make you be for me.”

“Oh.” Jaskier blushed. “But you managed to hold back until I brought you the wax.”

“No song can beat the real thing. Anyway, my little nymph, I’d never want you any other way than how you are.”

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #netflix the witcher #jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geraskier swashbuckling au #geraskier pirates #geraskier pirate au #pirate au #witcher pirate au #pirates #pirate captain geralt #sirens #creature jaskier #siren jaskier

493 notes · View notes

lillianofliterature · 3 years

Text

LOTR preferences || 2/?

main masterlist | imagines/preferences masterlist

DO NOT REPOST.

if gifs not sourced, they were found on google, lmk if they’re yours! I couldn’t make out the url on the elrond one or I would have linked it!

I wrote these sort of in an imagine style to make it more immersive since the prompt for this one is dialogue based.

some are longer than others (by a lot, oops) and some phrases or descriptors may have been repeated a few times, but there’s so many characters and I only have one brain and I didn’t feel like reading through all of them again to make them all perfectly unique. it’s been a long road writing these xD

elvish translations: melamin = my beloved/my love, melda = beloved/dear/sweet

tw: slight gore mentioned in aragorn’s

(more below the cut-off)

their first ‘i love you’ (confession)

aragorn | word count: 647

Aragorn was always quiet about his feelings and often times reserved, being an introverted person. Those three words came when he could no longer withstand the pressure of not telling you how he truly felt. The risk of your eyes wandering to find another had crossed his mind more than once and the possibility of something happening before he had had the chance to overcome his nerves was overwhelming. And one day, as he was in the midst of this inner turmoil, you slit your hand open while sharpening the blade of your sword against a whirling grindstone.

He had been nearby, working with the string of his bow, when your cry of pain pierced the air. The sword rattled to the ground as you stood and pressed your hand against the palm of the other in your best effort to quench the rush of blood. Without a second’s hesitation, he came to your aid and whisked you into the smithy shop where there was a store of medical supplies for such an incident.

In his panic, he chastised you.

“Why aren’t you wearing the guard I gave you? I explicitly told you not to use the grindstone without it!”

Tears burned in your eyes as he poured a stout smelling liquid over the wound. “I took it off because it was chafing my wrist when I pushed against the blade,” you said.

“It would have prevented this, (Y/n). Look at what you’ve done to yourself!”

“Aragorn, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to happen!”

“You must obey my instruction when I give it to you. I do not speak just to hear my own voice.”

There was a tense pause in your urgent conversation as he rinsed your hand in a basin of cool water and examined the wound up close with gentleness. His relief was audible as he realized the cut was much smaller than the loss of blood had let on. With a slower pace, he began bandaging your hand with linens.

His voice softer, he spoke again. “I tell you these things to protect you, (Y/n), not to patronize you.”

“I know,” you sniffled.

He could see that his chastisement had startled you as much as the wound itself. He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable, but he needed you to know how serious this could have been, how badly you could have injured yourself.

“I apologize for my harshness,” - he caught your gaze with his own as he continued - “But I need you to take care of yourself. Especially when I offer you the means to do so.”

He knotted the linen and tugged at the cloth with his teeth before snipping it short with a pair of shears lying nearby. The heat of his breath against your fingers sent a wave of chills across your skin. When he glanced up at you, he saw a twinge of embarrassment in your expression.

“I always end up doing something reckless or clumsy, no matter how much I try to better myself,” you muttered. Avoiding his gaze, you stared at your wrapped hand as he released it from his grasp.

The next words that left your mouth caught him off guard.

“Why do you bother with me, Aragorn?”

He swallowed.

His eyes drifted downward to your bandaged hand. Carefully, he took it in both of his and cradled it between his palms. Your breath caught in your throat, searching his face for any hint of insincerity. Of course, there was none. When his eyes flickered up to meet yours, there was something glimmering in his eyes. Something quiet and untamed. Tender.

“I care for you, (Y/n). I care for you very deeply. So deeply, in fact, that I think there is no better word for it than love,” he confessed, gently tracing his thumb over your knuckles. “I love you, melamin.”

boromir | word count: 952

Boromir had never been one to display much emotion. He had been taught from a young age that a man was not a creature of sentiment or expressive feeling, so he was not well versed in the commitment of making himself vulnerable. It wasn‘t until he began to see how this pattern of detachment and stalwart solemnness began to affect your relationship that he worked harder to make larger strides in undoing the toxic misogyny his father had engrained in him since boyhood.

You of course knew that Boromir had an emotional side; a softer, sweeter disposition he bore around his younger brother and even around you on occasion – before he subconsciously corrected himself. He had begun to notice that whenever he puffed his chest or resumed that “manly” behavior, you pulled away from him. You grew quieter, you sought solitude, you became annoyed more easily. His arrogance, you knew, often acted as a wall of self-preservation. But you were tired of being on the other side of that wall, waiting to be let in.

It was after an argument between the two of you that he realized this wall of his was going to have to come down. Even though he had been defensive at first, he soon realized his refusal to be wrong, his hesitance at expressing emotion, his worry about becoming vulnerable – it wasn’t worth the risk of losing you.

You had since shown him that emotion wasn’t a weakness, it was a strength. He knew you understood where his hesitance and his way of thinking brimmed from, you always made the effort to understand. You weren’t asking him to change – you were asking him to grow.

To allow himself to be Boromir. Fully, completely, without restraint.

This was his moment, so to speak, in which he knew he was ready to give you everything. His pride had been holding him back for so long under his father’s approval – it was finally time for him to trust you and allow himself the comforts of self-expression.

He was ready to say it first. He was ready to be the one to get vulnerable first.

On the evening he decided to take his first big step into that growth, Minas Tirith basked in the white hue of moonlight. He sat beside you quietly, allowing himself a moment to gather his thoughts. Twirling in between your fingers was a pale blossom from the White Tree that he had plucked for you. Patiently, you waited. You could tell by his calm demeanor and open countenance that something had shifted within him since your last talk – his shoulders were relaxed as he walked, he had let himself stroll along slowly beside you instead of marching quickly like a soldier. He seemed relieved. At peace.

“I have something I must ask of you, my dear,” he began.

Your attentive gaze gave him permittance to continue.

“Your forgiveness,” – his hand covered yours as his voice softened – “I want to apologize for my arrogance throughout our courtship thus far. It was not my intention to hurt you with my attachment to my own pride.”

You leaned forward to interrupt him, but he held up his hand to stop you. You hadn’t wanted him to apologize – you didn’t blame him for a learned behavior he had had no choice in being raised into. But evidently, Boromir felt in necessary to express his remorse. Shutting him down was the last thing you wanted to do, especially if this was what he felt was right. You decided to listen.

“I never knew that I would find someone who would open me up like you have. I never even knew there was such a possibility for me to learn to allow myself to feel as you have. You know I was never allowed to show weakness as a child, or what my father perceived as weakness,” he glanced down at your intertwined hands as he swallowed over his next words, “I was not even allowed to cry. It was not the way of a soldier, or a steward’s son.”

When his eyes lifted to meet yours again, you could see the glistening of his tears in the moonlight. You tightened your grip on his hand, covering it with your other.

He seemed comforted by this as he continued. “But I am able to do so now, to allow myself to feel and become vulnerable. I owe you my thanks for that, (Y/n). If it weren't for you, I fear I never would have allowed myself to grow, to become a better man. A stronger man.”

He leaned forward suddenly, his peaceful expression shifting into excitement. “I love you, (Y/n), with a passion that even the fires of Mordor could not compare. And I thought that I would have to swallow my emotions to be the man you wanted, but instead you had given me freedom I have never been offered before.”

“Oh, Boromir,” you murmured. The image of his smiling face blurred as your own tears gathered and spilled over your cheeks. Your eyes fell to the blossom in your hands and the promise it held of everything to come – of what you already had, here, in his company.

His thumb gently tugged at your cheek as he wiped your tears. When you softened to his touch, he cradled the curve of your jaw in his hand. You leaned into him, covering his hand with your own.

This is all you had ever wanted.

For Boromir to be free, for his heart to be opened, for him to accept your love.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, pressing your lips to the palm of his hand that caressed your face.

faramir | word count: 522

The complete opposite of his brother, Faramir had little to no trouble in connecting to his more emotional side. In fact, he was always eager to shower others in kindness and compassion. It had long been the thing his father hated most about him – Faramir was weak in Denethor’s eyes. Luckily, Faramir’s gift for sentiment could not be so easily squelched. It was what you loved most about him.

Faramir adored you all the more for your acceptance of his openness and empathetic abilities. He never had to filter himself around you or attempt to not be “too much”. He was expressive, kind, and vulnerable. He wasn’t afraid to cry, he wasn’t hesitant in displaying his softer side. He was just Faramir, the way Faramir was supposed to be. And in your eyes, he was perfect.

Those words of declaration, those three tender notes of sweet promise, when they finally came, did not necessarily come as a surprise. He had always been upfront with his feelings towards you – and respectful - with his affection and doting words of affirmation. Shy, but honest. But that did not mean they meant any less when you heard them spoken for the first time.

Faramir, though he had long known that he loved you, had not planned the moment he would confess to you. He knew the right moment would happen along, and happen along it did.

One fine afternoon in the sunlit halls of the library halls, your laughter echoed with an unkempt ferocity that made his heart melt. Evidently, the way he had attempted in retelling his brother’s joke was far funnier than the actual content of it. You had laid your hand upon his shoulder as you doubled over in a chortling fever of amusement. In seconds, his embarrassment had been assuaged your beautifully wild laugh that in turn encouraged his own to spill forth.

There you both stood under the setting beams of the warm sun that filtered into the halls, leaning into each other for support as you felt your sides begin to ache. His gentle hands gripped your forearms as you gasped for breath between cheerful bouts of laughter. He had been able to calm his jovial fit much sooner as his admiring gaze fell almost blissfully solemn.

He couldn’t look away from your lips that were split into a wide smile, unconcerned whether your laugh was ladylike or if your posture was stiff. Those little crinkles in the corners of your glimmering (e/c) eyes were like the fine details of a painting. Oh, how deeply he had fallen for you.

When you finally began to catch your breath and your laughter had quieted enough for a lower octave to be heard, the words slipped effortlessly between his smiling lips with a soft chuckle. “I love you.”

Your boisterous laughter faded into breathy vowels as you asked, “What did you say?”

“I love you,” he repeated.

His smile didn’t waver. He was so sure, so sincere.

You could only smile up at him graciously, a light laugh of merriness flowing through you.

How perfect this moment was, how blissfully perfect.

eomer | word count: 413

It happened one the eve before a long patrol - that could result in battle - that he and his men were preparing for. Eomer, knowing he could promise himself a certain outcome, did not want to leave you waiting until he returned to say all that he needed to. He wanted to be sure he left no loose ends fraying in his absence. He wasn’t one to leave things to chance.

As he walked out to the stables to prepare his supplies and brush out his steed, you followed along with him, eager to spend every minute you had left together before his departure. There were inquiries and concerns exchanged while he filled Firefoot’s bale with oats and cleaned his shoes of any muck. When he was reassured that you and Eowyn would care for each other in his absence, he felt one last thing needed to be said.

His hands wove through Firefoot’s mane as he considered his next words, soothing the horse’s nervous anticipation. The lull in conversation reminded of you how close dawn truly was. He would be gone soon and you would be left to worry and pray for his safe return. Busying yourself with tasks that would seem miniscule in comparison.

He patted the broad neck of his steed before wiping his hands clean and stepping nearer to you. “There’s something I think you should be aware of before I go,” he began.

His tone made you worry.

“I think we are both aware of our feelings for each other since our courtship began,” he took your hands in his as he paused for breath, “It��s no surprise to you that I feel passionately for you. I don’t think it would be news for you to hear these words, but I would feel better having spoken them before I take my leave.”

You waited on baited breath. Was he truly going to say it after all this time?

“I love you, (Y/n), with every inch of my being, and I plan to act on that knowledge when I return.”

Yes, you already knew he loved you, and he knew you loved him. But to hear those words spoken aloud after the years you had pined for each other and in the months you had courted, it was the last bit of resolve you needed to face the world while he was away. And evidently it was the last bit of peace he needed to carry himself forward.

eowyn | word count: 312

Eowyn had long been sure of her love for you, but had lacked the courage to admit it. of course, she had no qualms with being the first to say it – of course a woman could say it first just as easily as a man and with just as much meaning. But when would the right time occur? How could she be sure you felt the same? That she would not be left with a gaping pang of regret?

But Eowyn, against all of her worries, knew the moment when it came.

And of course, her bravery shown through.

Her confession did not happen under the moonlit stars or in the halls of her uncle, nor even in the walls of her homeland. It happened in the uncomfortable, sweaty musk of battle as arrows pierced hide and swords battered shields. It happened as an enemy blade came bearing down on your armor as you lie defenseless in the wreckage, your weapon thrown own of reach.

You had accepted your death just as the thudding of boots came nearer and the Uruk’s bloodthirsty gaze drifted upwards, its blade halted. The beast stepped over your impaired body and poised the tip of its blade toward the approaching figure with a twisted smirk – and it was then that the sharp twang of her blade meeting the Uruk’s pierced the air. She parried quickly, shoving the beast back into a stumble. She stood over you, wielding her shield and blade with grace and courage enough for a hundred men – or perhaps a thousand.

“You will not harm the one I love!” she shouted.

Your heart raced in the frenzy chaos of the moment – both from adrenaline and from the realization that Eowyn, the great lady warrior, the bravest heart you had ever met, had confessed her love for you while protecting you with her own life.

elrond | word count: 928

Elrond was extremely mindful of his feelings and how he attached himself to others. He was quiet, reserved, and did not care for taking unwise chances – especially when it came to feelings such a love. He had given much thought to the subject and took his time in considering what his feelings might be – if it was simply the fleeting sensation of infatuation, a connected sensation of friendship, or truly the sensation of love itself.

When he found his every thought resolved itself back to you and nearly everything he saw or read prompted him to share it with you, he knew that he had fallen in love. And thus, it soon came time to be honest with you about his earnest feelings for you. It was time to finally say it.

During a private dinner with him, Elrond had prepared his words carefully. As he dotted the corners of his mouth with a red satin cloth, he cleared his throat. But before he could speak, your voice incidentally interrupted him.

“Elrond, do you think I’m a witless human?”

The words he had almost spoken caught in his throat. He lifted his gaze to yours across the table, studying the remorseful expression that had overcome the smile you had worn only minutes ago. He had felt that something about you was off that evening; your spirit seemed dampened like the fallen leaves of autumn when drenched with the harvest’s cool rain.

“Of course not. Why would you ever think that?”

He watched as you toyed with a piece of warm pastry, poking at the flakey crust distractedly. “I suppose I- I…I worry that I am unworthy of your company. You are a great lord and I am nothing but a wanderer who happened upon your halls years ago. There are many who are still uncertain of me, many who would rather I leave your courts and make my home elsewhere.”

“Anyone who say such things about you must be the witless creature, (Y/n), not you,” he reassured.

Your eyes met his. There was an urgency to your tone, an urgency that taunted him unintentionally. “I am dull and plain, milord. I do not belong in your world of elegance and majesty. I am like the dust of the earth and you- you are like stardust.”

Still silence fell as Elrond processed your words. You had returned to formalities, which you seldom did unless the situation called for it. This time, in the comfort of your shared solitude, it was not expected of you. Where had this all come from? Had someone chastised you? Spoken ill of your character?

He rose slowly from his chair and made his way to you. You kept your eyes on your plate, suddenly overwhelmed by a bashful sense of embarrassment. Every step he drew nearer, your pulse quickened.

The warmth of his hand stilled the nervous fidgeting of yours.

As near as he was to you now, knelt by your chair, you wondered if he could see the tears burning in your eyes. You blinked, dissolving the blurry liquid from your vision. You held your breath very still, only taking shallow breaths –you feared anything deeper would encourage more emotions to present themselves.

When his other hand swept your hair from your face, your breath caught in your throat. “You are the furthest thing from dull, melda. Do not compare yourself to the dust that is trampled by the feet of beasts – you are far more precious than even the light of the stars. You are worth far more than you give yourself credit for.”

The soft touch of his finger pulled your chin towards him, warranting your gaze to meet his. “I have spent these last two months considering how I might tell you this, and I find that is more perfect a time than ever,” he paused only to admire your eyes and the loveliness that reflected in them, “I am in love with you, (Y/n), and I fall more in love with you each day that passes.”

Your (e/c) widened and you felt your chest tighten – how could this be possible? How could he, the great elven lord of Rivendell, think of you as anything more than a wanderer? No matter how much you doubted yourself, you knew you could trust his words, despite the shock they invoked. He was never one to speak with haste or make himself vulnerable to anyone apart from his children. You were stunned to silence, waiting for him to take it back. But he never did.

In fact, his brows drew together in an expression of absoluteness and he spoke again in a calmer, more pronounced tone. He took one of your hands in his and pressed it to his heart. “You are the most marvelous creature that has ever walked into my life. I am the one who has been graced by your presence. You have enriched my life when before it was simple and lonely…you are stardust, melamin, not me.”

Your sorrowful tears turned to joy as they poured from your eyes and spilled over your flushed cheeks. When you leaned forward to embrace him, he opened his arms to accept your human display of affection. A little too enthusiastic, it might have been – you wrapped your arms over his shoulders, pulling yourself to the ground where he knelt.

His chuckle reverberated against your body and you found yourself wondering how you had ever doubted your belonging here with him – there was no other place in Middle-Earth that could hold your heart.

arwen | word count: 420

Arwen had known from the moment she had met you that something was meant to last between the two of you. Call it instinct, desire, or elven wisdom – whatever it might’ve been, she felt it clearly much like her father’s visions. Although she hadn’t been sure if it was the bonds of friendship or kindred spirits for some time, until her connection to you was proven by your shared desire to be near each other whenever you could.

She confessed to you on the morning of your departure with part of her father’s guard to oversee the treaties between your peoples. There was much riding upon the success of your deliverance and the treaties themselves – there was much hanging in the air, stiffening the backs of many anxious elves that mounted their steeds alongside you. Just as you finished loading your saddle, her voice carried across the yard of the stables and met your ears, drawing your attention towards you.

“I thought you were supposed to be with the farewell party at the gates?” You inquired. The smile her presence brought onto your lips warmed her heart.

“I am,” she drew near until she was within arm’s reach of you, “I came to say goodbye personally. I have something to tell you before you go.”

“Oh? What is it, my lady?”

“I want to offer you this,” – she took your hand in hers and discreetly place something within the grasp of your fingers, folding them back over it – “If you would but promise to take great care of it.”

Opening the palm of your hand, you found the cool glint of the Evenstar glistening back at you. To say that you were stunned was an understatement – surely this was not what it seemed to be. Was she offering her heart to you?

“Arwen, are- are you asking…?”

“I am offering you my heart with this jewel, that you may carry me with you while we are parted.”

You searched her eyes for any hint of uncertainty, but you found none. She knew what she was doing, placing this jewel in your care. She was offering you her love, her fidelity, her loyalty. Herself.

“But this must mean that-“

“That I love you,” she murmured, taking a step closer. She curled your fingers around the Evenstar again, this time enclosing her hands around yours. Her eyes flickered down as she placed a soft kiss to your knuckles, sealing her promise. “And I will be waiting for you when you return home.”

legolas | word count: 259

It came in during one of the many nights that you sat close by him during the Feast of Starlight in his father’s halls. When he had seen your ceremonial gown laced with silver ribbon and your hair flowing free of any braids or decorum, he felt as though every thought and feeling he had harbored for you in his heart had been sealed by that moment. The need to confess his feelings came on so strongly that he could hardly speak throughout the feast, knowing the next words that passed through his lips would be ones of affirmation and promise.

It happened in the basking glow of moonlight, just after you pointed out the constellations that glimmered brightly above you. He had placed his hand over yours gently, his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation.

You glanced at him as his fingers enclosed around yours. His glimmering blue eyes narrowed down at your delicate hand, not yet meeting your inquiring gaze. His brows dipped together as though he were working very hard at thinking of what to say.

“Legolas?”

He swallowed back his nerves before looking up to say, “(Y/n), you have been like my very own star, illuminating every part of my being with your passion. I think it must be time that I tell you just how much I care for you,” - his other hand came to cup the hand he held, encasing it in the warmth of his touch - “I love you, (Y/n), with a fire that burns brighter than the sun itself.”

galadriel | word count: 207

The lady Galadriel, even in her vast grace and eloquence, could not find the words to say all that she felt for you. In the dusk of a summer evening over a private supper, she handed you a carefully folded letter that had been sealed with silver thread. You took it gingerly, looking up at her with curious eyes before unfolding its contents and delving into her written speech.

In it she had poured everything - from the moment she had met you to the very minute she had realized how her heart was binding itself to yours with the slow cadence of the changing seasons. She expressed that though her life had spanned a great millennium, you had brought a youthful curve to her smile, a liveliness she had not known for some time. At the very end of her confession that had been penned with her delicate penmanship were the concluding words of affection. She was in love with you.

When you looked up at her, the letter quivering in your hands, she glanced away momentarily before saying, “Every word I wrote is but the truth I feel in my heart,” her smile was as dignified as ever, “and I cannot deny it any longer.”

haldir | word count: 365

He will have thought about it for a very long time and have every word prepared to the syllable. The setting was carefully planned, the way he spoke and carried himself was rehearsed - for declaring your lifelong love for someone was no lighthearted matter. It could determine the course of his existence, as well as yours. Haldir wanted nothing less of himself than utter perfection, knowing well that you were worth every bit of his effort (and so much more).

So there he waited in the beauty of the Lothlorien moon glow for your arrival. He had your favorite delicacies made in the kitchens by the skilled elves in the upper palace. There were pastries filled with tart berries and lathered with warm crème, a centuries-aged mulled wine, and votives shimmering in the grass. All to tell you that he loved you - to declare his heart as yours.

But all of that changed when you arrived suddenly and rushed up the slope to meet him. Unexpectedly, you took him in your arms and held him there without warning. There was a quiver to your body that he felt against his skin. He returned the gesture without hesitation.

“Melda, what is it that troubles you?”

You spouted off about how horrible your day had been and how glad you were to have had this meeting with him, how it had kept you going throughout the gradual disappointments that had taken place since that morning. You went on to tell him how much he meant to you - all without explicitly saying ‘i love you’, but somehow he knew that had been what you meant.

Without thinking, he said it over you shoulder in a whisper just loud enough to be heard by your human ears. It hadn’t been the way he had carefully planned out, but somehow it had been sweeter this way than any other way he could have imagined. It was natural, pure, and made his heart full.

“I love you too, Haldir,” you murmured in return. He permitted himself to succumb to your human expression of affection completely as he tightened his embrace and gently nestled his chin over your shoulder.

gimli | word count: 346

The saying “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” must have applied to dwarves as well. For one night as you and the other members of your Fellowship bedded down for a meal and a few hours’ rest, the savory flavor you managed to infuse in the meager ingredients you rationed had done just that to Gimli, son of Gloin. It had been only a brief moment between handing him his own helping and sitting down next to him with your own that the words of adoration escaped his mouth.

“My love be yours, lass! This brew is delicious!” He had proclaimed, his voice rising higher above the hushed sounds of delight as the others enjoyed your cooking. Then his own words registered in his hungry mind - as they did to the rest of the group.

The spoon halted in his mouth as he froze stiff under the several inquiring looks from around the fire. Legolas’ expression was contorted in such a confused way, Gimli would have make a jab at the elf had he not been the object of attention himself. He hadn’t thought it possible for the dwarf to harbor feelings - well, positive ones, at least.

Your smile drove the dwarf’s cheeks into a reddening fit. “Your what be mine?”

“Uh, ah,” he swallowed quickly and slurped in another mouthful of broth, “I dedn’t say anythin’.”

“Oh, I think you did, Gimli,” Aragorn chimed in with a wide grin on his face.

“I think he might ‘a said he loved her!” One of the hobbits proclaimed, encouraging a roar of laughter around the fire.

Gimli muttered something over his bowl of stew that he cradled close to his beard. You smiled at him, knowing he was too embarrassed to even offer a rebuttal. It may not have been outright or plainly spoken, but you could see through the hard-pressed and unfeeling exterior he always wore that there was something soft not too far below the surface. You were happy to hold the affections of a certain red-haired, axe-wielding dwarf.

frodo baggins | word count: 612

Frodo loved nothing more than a peaceful day spent in the flickering shade of the forests and crossing through little creeks and rivers - especially if you were with him. He often invited you to tag along with him on his adventures to find a good reading spot or explore some hidden oasis of the Shire he had yet to discover. He always wanted to be with you.

On one such day, Frodo couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every thought turned and found its way back to you. Each time he tried to concentrate on the book he cradled in his hands, his eyes wandered readily to find your peaceful face indulged in your own little world, just content to have his company without the need for conversation.

He adjusted himself where he sat in the forked trunk of a comfortable tree and tried one last time to immerse himself in the paragraphs printed on the yellowed pages of his book. It was no use.

Minutes passed and Frodo couldn’t try any longer. His eyes settled on the texture of your (h/c) hair that you had left down that day with no braids or ribbons tying portions of it back. The midday sun that filtered through the canopy of trees sent waves of gold across those soft tendrils he loved tucking behind your ear. You sat primly at the base of the tree, weaving the stems of flowers together.

Quietly, he admired the contour of your nose, the curve of your cheeks, the delicate shape of your lips and the pink tongue that poked out every now and then as you tried to concentrate on your pleats. A dreamy smile took over his quaint expression. The contented sigh that passed between his lips pulled your gaze up to meet his.

His sweet smile encouraged your own to make an appearance. Both of your hearts fluttered. “What’s that look for?”

“I was just admiring how beautiful you are with sunlight in your hair,” he said. His voice was sugary and tender. It reminded you of the rich pastries his uncle offered you each time you came for a meal. So delicately ruch with sweetness that it sat in your belly and warmed, mixing perfectly with the twang of a hot berry tea. Frodo was like that - the perfect mix of everything natural and sweet. Pure.

Your blush overtook your expression and your averted your gaze bashfully. As your thoughts rushed with anticipation, wondering what was to come next, if anything. Perhaps he would say something else or return to his book, you couldn’t be sure.

There was the definitive sound his book snapping shut and the scuffle of his feet as he hopped down from the tree. You teased him with a glance when he sat next to you and tucked his legs underneath him, turning your fingers around the stems of budding dandelions. His eyes studied your face for a moment longer before he wandered down to follow the steady work of your hands.

“What are you making?”

“I’m weaving a bookmark for you,” you answered. “After it dries, you can take it out and use it for other books.”

There was that fluttering in his heart again.

“You’re marvelous,” he whispered.

A short chuckle escaped you and your eyes widened with a mix of shock and curiosity. “I’m just weaving flowers, Frodo. It’s nothing special.”

His hand covered yours. Your fingers stilled.

“Of course it is. Anything you do becomes special.”

“Frodo, I-...”

“I love you, (Y/n).”

“You- you what?”

He traced his finger along your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear like he always did. “I love you.”

samwise gamgee | word count: 1,084

Sam had planned every minute of his confession. He would invite you to supper, cook every bit of it himself, and put it all in a picnic basket to be eaten in the quaint garden of his home. He had rehearsed his words over and over again, both to Frodo and the looking glass that hung by the front door.

When you arrived that evening, it was obvious that something was turning in that head of his (he was never any good at being discrete), but you didn’t let on as if you suspected anything. You figured that if Sam had planned something special, he would enjoy the surprise on your face better than the curious questions that would deflate his excitement. With a basket in tow, he led you back out the front door and onto the stone steps of his beautifully gardened walkway.

You paused to admire the lilies and tall-reaching sunflowers as he bickered with the key in the lock. Unfortunately, both of you were too distracted to notice the picnic basket slipping from his grasp. Before either of you could react, the beautifully packed picnic had tumbled out onto the dusty stones around your feet.

A loaf of bread that had been carefully wrapped in parchment seemed unscathed, as did the little pot of warm stew that had been tied shut with a thick ribbon over the lid. The jars of honey and jam clinked as they rolled into each other, a packed cheese board tumbled out and into the grass, and a lovely golden pie feel top-first onto the porch step with a splat.

Your first instinct was to clasp your hands over your mouth and stare idly at the unfortunate mess. Your eyes flicked to Sam, who stood with his back to you and his hand still on the key that stuck out of the door. His shoulders sank and an audible sigh of remorse left his lips.

“Oh, blast it!” he exclaimed under his breath, bending over to turn the basket right-side up.

Poor Sam.

“Oh, Sam! I’m so sorry!” You stepped forward out of your daze and tucked the jars in your arms. You picked up the stew that had only barely spilled a few drops when it tipped, careful not to knock the lid off anymore. When you set them down by the basket, you noticed the pie that had been smashed had splattered onto Sam’s feet and trousers. Helplessly, he tried to shake the gooey tart off, but to no avail.

“Let me go inside and get some towels,” you offered. Scooting between him and the doorpost – and narrowly avoiding the pie yourself – you took the key from his fingers and twisted it back, opening his front door wide open and quickly heading for the bathroom.

When you came back, damp towel in hand, Sam was slumped by the grass, picking up the cheese and berries that had hopped out like little frogs. You sighed at the sight of it, knowing he had most likely prepared and cooked every bit of this meal himself. You couldn’t help but notice that he looked rather defeated.

Approaching him, you could hear him muttering under breath, things like, “Samwise, you blundering fool” and “now the night’s all ruined because of your clumsiness”. Gently, you placed your hand on his shoulder and bent over to capture his attention. He stood and looked at you, a frown drooping his eyebrows together. It was enough to make your heart break right then and there.

“Here, leave that to me and let’s get you cleaned up.”

Taking his hand, you led him to the little bench by the potted tomatoes and gestured for him to sit. He sat down with a groan and reached for the towel, which you pulled out of reach. “It’s alright, Sam, I can clean it off.”

“You don’t have to do that, (Y/n),” he interjected. There was an embarrassed twinge in his tone.

“I know I don’t, but I want to help. You went to all this trouble to give me a lovely evening out and I want to do what I can to help make it happen still,” you reassured. You knelt by his feet and began wiping the crème and berries from his trousers, letting the water soak in and draw the hue out.

“Oh,” he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly with his hand, “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.”

You glanced up at him curiously, quirking a brow. “Sam, it’s alright. It’s just one date – we can always try again and next time I’ll lock the door for you. Or I can carry the basket, although I can’t promise I won’t be the one to drop it.” Your snickering didn’t seem to assuage his deflated excitement.

“No, tonight was-…I was going to- to-...”

You leaned back on your haunches, your hands still. He was going to what?

“Sam?”

His silent anxiousness worried you. Tenderly, you placed a hand on his knee and bent forward to try and catch his gaze again. Bashfully, his eyes darted up, but they did not meet yours. Instead he focused on your hand that settled on his knee and found himself smiling softly, despite the tears that had welled in his eyes.

Following his gaze, you realized what you had done – the heat rose in your cheeks and you began to pull away, but his hand stopped you. With a sweet touch, he wove his together with yours and looked up at you. Your pulse quickened - you had never seen that look before, in his eyes. The one where they shimmered almost like stars and his smile tipped to the side. He looked almost blissful.

“I had planned on telling you I love you. I had everything planned, including baking your favorite pie with little hearts woven into the crust. I wanted tonight to be special, so you would remember it when we’re old and grey and start forgetting what we ate for second breakfast.”

Sam watched as your smile grew, shrank into shock, and then grew again. When you sprang forward and enveloped him, it took a moment for him to register your sudden warmth pressed against him. But when he did, he happily returned the gesture and wrapped his arms under yours, tucking his chin over your shoulder. He could smell the sweet scent of lavender wafting from your beautiful hair.

“Sam, I’ll never forget this night for as long as I live.”

merry brandybuck | word count: 409

With Meriadoc Brandybuck, nothing was ever subtle. The young hobbit had planned his confession like he might any other adventure or trip across the country. From morning until night, Merry had something in store for you to slowly build to the moment he was prepared to confess his truest feelings.

It started with pulling you out your door at the crack of dawn to watch the sunrise over Bywater Pool with a quaint breakfast in the square (which you forgave him for when he presented those deliciously warm muffins) and was then followed by a light frenzy of morning shopping from the markets that were selling sweet-tasting goods and homemade wares. He had seen the way you had eyed that little locket with the (f/c) jewel dangling from it and bought it when you weren’t looking, slipping it into his vest pocket.

Not long after you had visited your friends in the Green Dragon Inn, there had been a lovely wagon-ride through the rich Green Hill countryside to reach the borders of the Shire, followed by a lunch under the trees of the forest in the curve of the hillside shadows. He watched fondly as you went about collecting flowers to braid into a crown for the two of you. After your meal had been finished (along with a day full of snacks and goodies he had brought along), he had led you on a hike the rest of the way to Tuckborough where the Great Willow sat patiently waiting for dusk.

There, underneath the swaying loveliness of the weeping branches, he turned out his pocket and clasped the necklace around you from behind.

A gasp escaped your surprised smile, “What is this?!”

“I saw you eyeing it this morning when we were in the square,” he planted himself beside you, tucking your hair behind your shoulder, “And I thought you should have it.”

“Oh, Merry,” you looked down and marveled at its glimmering beauty, pressing your fingers to the chain, “You really shouldn’t have! This cost a few good silver pieces!”

There was pure adoration in his eyes when you looked at him, a look you hadn’t seen so fully expressed before. It was then, in the pause between phrases, that he said it all with just a look. You had never felt such butterflies before.

“No price could ever compare to the amount of my love for you, (Y/n).”

Oh, he was smooth. He was very smooth.

pippin took | word count: 430

Pippin mightn’t have been the most creative when it came to planning elaborate dates or settings in which to confess his innermost feelings with, but he was no less sincere. When the quick knock had come at your door one morning before you had even had the chance to devour your first meal of the day, you hadn’t expected to find him standing anxiously on the other side.

He wore that same crooked smile that alighted his whole face and held tightly in his hands was a bouquet of wildflowers. By the looks of them, he must has run up the lane carrying them - some daisies had lost a few petals and you spotted the dirt-knotted roots hanging from his hands from where he had pulled them from the earth. It was messy and imperfect, but it was Pippin.

There was something so endearing about his childlike naivety when it came to the “proper” way of presenting things, such as the mop of unkempt curls on his head, the bruised flowers in his clenched hands, and the wide-eyed energy he never went without. You loved every bit of it.

You certainly hadn’t expected him to suddenly become shy when he began to explain the bouquet he placed in your hands, his fingers lingering over yours a little longer than necessary. He was never one to be slow to speak.

“I-I, uh, I thought you might like these pretty flowers, y’know, because pretty things like other pretty things,” he smiled for a moment and bounced on his feet, until he seemed to register his own words and how they might be taken, “Uh, not- not that I see you as a ‘thing’ or...anything.”

“I know what you mean, Pip,” you smiled at him through the blossoms as you pressed them to your nose, inhaling their sweet scent.

“I also came to- uh- to tell you about my feelings.”

“Your feelings?”

“Ah, those,” he giggled and spared a glance at his feet, “I just meant that I have feelings for someone. For you, that is. I mean. And, uh, I wanted to come out and say it. Like that.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Oh, Pippin, that’s wonderful becau-”

“I love you, that is,” he concluded before adding a rushed, “You don’t have to say the same, of course. I was just putting it out there.”

You tucked in your widening smile and concealed your blush behind your daisies. “I do feel the same way. Would you like to come in for breakfast?”

You knew he never turned down a meal.

tags: @moony-artnstuff @wellfuckmyexistence

390 notes · View notes

blueeyedgeorgie · 4 years

Text

Belle-W.L

“could I request a will imagine where the reader is mia in his new video? like she's his girlfriend and reacts to all of the things belle got him?”

“can you do a will x reader fic where the reader reacts to the belle delphine box lmao x”

Gif cred. @sdmngifs

Pairing: WillNE X Reader

Word Count: 2.6k+

Pronouns: She/Her

__________________

Opening the door, Y/n's attention first went to the corner of the room. A giant pink bear sat there with two pink crates, a giant blown up donut, and a canvas with a pink-haired girl holding a gun. Glancing over to Will's desk across the room, her boyfriend sat there, not bothering to look back at her. "What is going on here?" Y/n made her way over to the empty seat next to will, a grin was spread across her face. She was a bit excited about whatever her boyfriend was planning. "That smile is will be gone soon," he hadn't made eye contact with his girlfriend yet. He focused on the camera, leaning in to readjust the lens. "Alright, here's the plan, I'm gonna show you all the stuff by the bear. But first you gotta know, all of it is from Belle Delphine." Y/n's mouth shaped in an 'o', it made sense from the canvas leaning on Will's table. "I need you to close your eyes for the first surprise," her boyfriend stood up from his seat, making his way from behind Y/n. "Oh no, I'm scared already." Hesitantly, she raised her hands to her face. "This first surprise you shouldn't have to be scared about," Will replied. Y/n could hear Will moving around, the sound of his closet door opened before closing again. "So you're telling me I should be scared of some of Belle's gifts?" "Well... yes and no." "Wait, what does that mean, Will?" Y/n let out a giggle fueled with nervousness. "Alright, open your eyes." Taking her hands away from her face, Y/n took a second to let her eyes readjust before looking to her boyfriend. Will stood there with a stupid grin on his face as he wore a white ahegao hoodie. "Oh wait, that's actually really cool," A smile appeared on her face. "I think I might steal that from you for some Instagram pictures." "Really?" he raised a brow at Y/n's reaction. It was only the first gift, but he knew it would get worse. "Yeah, that with some fishnets and some platform boots, it'd be a look," She brushed her hair back out of her face, a grin still staying on her face. Will took a glance at the camera for a moment before walking off back to his closet. "Am I the only one you're showing this stuff to? Or some other friends?" Y/n turned, watching Will pull the hoodie off himself. "Yeah, I'm just having James, Alex, and George stop by to have them check it out too," as soon as the hoodie was off, Will made his way to the other belongings in the corner of the room. "Alright, here's the next gift." He had picked up a box, bringing it back over to the desk. Getting closer, he revealed the front of the box with a bit of art of Belle on the from. Belle had been making a "shush" motion as the art of her was drawn with her finger over her lips. "Is that Belle Delphine fanart?"Y/n asked as she admired the art. "I have no clue, what do you think is in it?" "Huh, probably more photos of her." "George said the same thing," Will grinned happily, his hand snaking down to open the box. "Great minds think alike." Will paused as Y/n spoke, only making his girlfriend let out a giggle, "Are you gonna keep opening it or not?" "I'm opening it, I'm opening it," he let out a sigh before flipping the top open. A dartboard with Morgz mum's face on it was shown. "That's so cool," Y/n grinned happily. "Are you gonna hang it up somewhere?" "Maybe, I have no clue where I'm gonna put it yet," Will shrugged before closing the box. He made his way back to the corner of gifts. "I'd just like to say Will hasn't let me into his bedroom for the past couple of days because of all the gifts," The h/c girl smiled before looking back at Will as he picked out a new gift. "That looks like a Belle Delphine shrine, doesn't it?" Will had approached with a different box that had the same art sprawled out on top of it. Taking a seat next to Y/n, he handed her the box before quickly snatching up his Go-Pro camera. Taking a glance at Will, Y/n slowly opened the box. As soon as they realized what was sitting in their lap, a giant grin spread across their face another time. A pink BB gun sat there with 'Belle Delphine' written across it. "Can Belle become my sugar mommy?" Y/n spoke as she picked up the gun. Will let out a laugh from his girlfriend's response. "I'm surprised how well you're taking this." "Well, I haven't seen anything too concerning." "Yet." "What?" After taking the BB gun back, Will had returned with something else. A pink machete. "My god, Belle is really preparing you for an apocalypse, isn't she?" "I literally have no clue what I'm going to do with this," Will shrugged, going back to find a safe place to secure the weapon. After the machete, Will had brought the portrait of Belle over to Y/n to give her a moment to admire it. Belle was painted holding a gun as she said 'Subscribe or die.' "Just wondering why you haven't drawn up a canvas like this yet," Will grinned cheekily. "You see, I was gonna say I liked the painting until you made that snarky little comment," Y/n shook her head, her smile disappearing. "But you know what? You want a canvas? I'll give you a canvas. Don't be surprised when one day you walk into your bedroom and you'll see a painting of me covering up your walls." her smile appeared from Will's mouth falling open. "And I'm gonna get one of your friends in so they get the video content before you do." "Alright, that's where you hurt me, Y/n," Will shook his head, walking off with the canvas. "Anyways, I think it's about time we open the crates." As soon as the crate was brought over to Y/n, she opened it. The crate had been filled with all different sorts of things. The first thing Will had pulled out was a pair of cat mittens. "I think these were made for you." "No love, those were made for you." Y/n pushed the mittens towards Will, only for him to put them on. "Looking good." Instead of continuing to go through the crate, Will had brought over the inflatable donut. He had ended up making Y/n wear it while pointing his go-pro camera in her face. "I'm scared," Y/n bit her lip. "Why am I sitting in the donut?" "There's no reason to be scared." Will let out a giggle of excitement mixed with nervousness. "Is Belle gonna pop out of the closet or something?" She looked behind her over to the row of closets in Will's room. Will let out another giggle. "No, no, no. Don't worry about that. But do you think you could smell it?" "What?" "Just smell the donut, Y/n." Keeping eye contact with her boyfriend, Y/n hesitantly leaned in towards the plastic, sniffing it. There was no scent besides the smell of plastic. "There's no smell Will." "Alright, there's another donut. This one smells like an actual donut," Will had brought a smaller donut over to Y/n. "And on the back of it is a YouTube URL." "Oh no... what happened?" Y/n's voice cracked as she moved to take the piece of plastic off of her, "I don't wanna wear this now." Will took a seat next to Y/n, letting out a laugh as he typed in the URL. "The URL leads to a video titled, 'Belle vs Donut.' And the channel is 'Willne and Belle forever'." "It should be Y/n and Belle forever," Y/n gave a mischievous wink at the camera while Will typed in the URL. Her boyfriend had taken a moment to stare into the camera just from hearing that. "Am I gonna lose my girlfriend to my sugar mommy?" "Hopefully." The video had started, revealing Belle had sprayed whipped cream on most of the donut before slipping into the donut from using a children's slide. After she was in the donut she had slapped her head against the donut before the video ended. A moment of silence followed after the video ended. Y/n was a bit speechless for a moment. "...Wow." "I know," Will chuckled with his usual grin reappearing on his face. "You commented 'pog'?" The h/c girl let out a giggle as she scrolled down to the comment section, "You're this channel's only subscriber. That's sad." Will couldn't help but let out some more laughter from Y/n. "Guys, go subscribe to Willne and Belle forever and try to get Belle to change the channel name to 'Y/n and Belle forever'." Will looked into his camera once more with the usual look of disappointment. As Will had gone back to bring the crate back, Y/n quickly scrolled down to the comment section, typing in 'Y/n + Belle forever.' The crate had been reopened, revealing the content inside for a second time. The first thing Will had pulled out was a photo of Belle with a note on the back of it. "Dear WillNE, I hope you enjoy your mystery box! Love from Belle Delphine." "That's sweet," Y/n smiled. "I'm just so confused how you aren't upset," Will placed the photo back down before turning to Y/n. "Oh, the only thing I'm upset about is that she chose to be your sugar mommy over mine." Will had shown off a pink Xbox controller with Belle's name engraved on it. Y/n had found it cool and was a bit jealous she didn't have her own. After the Xbox controller, Will brought out Belle's pet named 'Fluffy.' He was a small crocodile with a ribbon tied around his neck. "Omg, I love him. Could I keep him?" Y/n smiled, taking the crocodile out of Will's hands. "Yeah, I thought he was a real animal when I first opened the crate." Y/n let out a laugh at her boyfriend before they continued on with the rest of the items. Will had brought out a Dive blaster from OverWatch to show off, Y/n really didn't care much for it. Up next, Will had brought out a pair of pink darts with the Britain flag on them. SO the couple had decided to walk over to the dartboard to play a short game. Will had brought out a mug with custom art on it. The art had shown Belle watching WillNE on it, meanwhile a few of Will's friends' videos had been put on the sidebar of recommended videos. "It says Will and Belle forever... wow," Y/n gave a look to the camera before handing the mug back to her boyfriend. Will brought out a polaroid of Belle that had a button connected to it. The button had said, 'send nudes.' "I'm starting to get concerned she's actually trying to steal you from me," Y/n muttered quietly as she stared at the polaroid. Will did feel a bit bad, he knew he had to spoil Y/n some way for her later on to make up for the video. Y/n looked back at the camera before blurting out, "Belle I love you, please date me instead of my boyfriend." Will had swapped out the first crate for another one, this new one being called 'the fanny crate.' He had first pulled out a bowl of cereal, handing it to Y/n. "Oh, that's cute. It says sub to WillNE," Y/n smiled at the bowl. "It might not be what you think it is." "Nevermind." She quickly placed the bowl down, refusing to take a second glance at it. The brunette boy had pulled out a purple teddy bear that had no face, merely a giant black hole for a mouth and prickly white teeth. "Oh, I love him too. Could I also keep him?" The h/c girl grinned, holding the bear close. "Take him, he's scary." Will shook his head, going back into the crate to pull something new out. A syringe of pink glitter appeared in his hands. As soon as Y/n saw it, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "Mikey, could you please edit James in when he says 'Inject this into my fucking veins'?" Y/n let out a giggle as she looked over at the camera. "Don't listen to her Mikey!" "Joke's on you, Mikey likes me." Will had next pulled out a pink condom that had been titled 'Gamer girl condom.' Of course, Will had ended up asking the dumbest question yet. "Could we use it?" "She could've poked holes in it," Y/n shook her head. "You're insane." Will had ended up bringing out a new gift that just happened to make Y/n a bit jealous. A brand new seventh-generation Ipad. The couple had found themselves talking over if Belle had possibly uploaded anything to it. After putting the Ipad away once again, Will had told Y/n to close her eyes once again. "Will, you keep scaring me," Y/n sighed, her face covered with her hands. "Well none of this stuff has been that terrible yet, has it?" "You said 'yet' earlier." "That's because I thought you were gonna be much more upset over the stuff in the crates!" After a moment of shuffling footsteps and silence, Wil spoke up once again, "Reach your hand out." "Oh no," Y/n muttered before hesitantly moving her hand out. It took a few seconds before she felt anything. But as soon as her hand came in contact with something, she flinched. Opening her eyes, Y/n had realized what her hand came in contact with. "She got you a fucking chainsaw?" At this point, Will was grinning like a child who had been spoiled on Christmas. "Gotta protect myself." "From what? Wood?" Y/n raised a brow, a smug smile on her face as she watched Will walk off with his new machine. Soon enough, Will had come back with one last item. A small pink box. Getting into arms reach of Y/n, he quickly handed the box to her, not bothering to take a seat before doing it. Y/n let out a gasp at the sight of the box, could Belle have tried to propose to Will? "I swear if she proposed to you with an engagement ring I'm breaking up with you," shaking her head, Y/n opened the box. A small necklace fell out with a small red crystal connected to it. After taking a moment to admire it, Y/n spoke up. "Will... what is this?" "Blood." "What the fuck?" As quickly as the necklace had been brought out, it had been put away. And just like that, the filming had come to an end. Y/n had stuck around to help Will clean everything up for Alex to show up. By the time they had finished, they had a bit of time before Alex would show up, leaving the couple free time together. "Hey Y/n," Will followed Y/n downstairs. They had planned to watch a bit of TV and cuddle for a bit. "Yes?" "you know I love you, right?" "Of course," Y/n stopped walking, turning to face her boyfriend. "I love you, you know that, right?' "Yeah." "Good," the h/c girl took a seat on the couch, scooting over to give Will room. "You're not mad about Belle?" "Not at all, I get stuff like this happens. Also, Belle is Belle, what do you expect?" She moved over, cuddling up to Will's chest as he moved to hold her close. "God, you're amazing." "I know."

Taglist: @anyasthoughts @multifandom-but @springholland @blondiee-seaveyy @caswinchester2000 @glossystyless

178 notes · View notes

obsidianfr3sk · 3 years

Text

true colors

@renegadesnet event 10: pride

↪ [ “But everything was temporary. And pain was one of those things. Well, except love. Everything but love was temporary. Or that was what he liked to believe.” ]

Summary: Two years after the supernova, after Tamaya notified them the gearboxes that contained the lights had gotten soaked and that she needed the money to buy more before the next day (June 1st), Simon realized they were not enough for him anymore.

Simon wanted a bigger flag.

No. He wanted two. The biggest pride flags he could find.

AO3

Hello, friends!! I hope you’ve been having an excellent pride month and have been eating a lot rainbow cake and pissing off a lot of conservatives with the mere fact of your wonderful existence:’) As my contribution to this month and the event organized by @renegadesnet, I decided to write a fic focused on my favorite gay dads and their sons (bc I’m me, and you should have seen this coming.)

Before you read, I want to give a trigger warning: at the start of a fic I talk about a homophobic attack, which is not graphic or violent per se (it’s someone in the middle of the night taking away the flag they put outiside the house), and I do discuss about internalized homophobia during some parts of the story. If you read it and are sensitive to this kind of stuff, proceed with caution and take care of yourself <3

Also, this entry is a collaboration with my talented mother @healing-winston-pratt, who is going to be uploading some fanart of this in a near future, so keep an eye on that👀 she’s the best skjhkjds thank you for accepting to collaborate, I feel this is a great bonding activity and I hope we can do this more often✨

I need to update my tag list because a lot of the people who were included are not active as active as they were before/changed their URLs. But I’m going to tag @the-wee-woo-rita @lackadae @all-weather-is-bad @chiyuki-hiro bc you guys are the only ones who are still active users who I had on my previous tag list lol

With that said, I hope you enjoy this fic. I think that despite the angsty parts, it came out really fluffy and domestic, it was fun to write. And to all my queer silbings who are reading this: I am very proud of you.

But I see your true colors shining through.

I see your true colors, and that's why I love you.

So don't be afraid to let them show.

Your true colors,

true colors are beautiful like a rainbow

Simon couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t know he was gay.

There was a time when he didn’t know he was gay, of course. He was probably too young to even comprehend the meaning behind that word. And there was also a moment in his life when he felt embarrassed about it, and sad, and angry, and really, really scared, and probably thought that no matter how hard he tried, he was never going to be happy living the life he wanted to live.

That the pain was never going to end. That he was going to be miserable for the rest of his existence, and that maybe, there was no point in existing if he was going to stay like that until the day he died.

But everything was temporary. And pain was one of those things.

Well, except love. Everything but love was temporary. Or that was what he liked to believe.

That was the reason why, the first year after the Day of Triumph, he told Hugh they should get a rainbow flag for their house. They went to one of the first stores that opened at the mall (that had just been remodeled after twenty years of being abandoned) and bought one at a not so affordable price. Simon offered himself to install it on one of the fence pillars and had to spend thirty minutes listening to Hugh telling him that maybe he should let him do it, that the ladder Kasumi had lent them was ratty, and that Simon was going to fall.

Fortunately, Simon didn’t. He did almost fall, though, when he was about to pass out from stress because seeing Hugh getting all anxious, made Adrian cry and he started to basically beg him to come down, given that now he was convinced he was going to fall, and hearing his dad saying “Look what you’ve done to the kid, Simon” didn’t help at all to make Adrian (or Simon) feel better.

That night, there was a thunderstorm and Adrian used it as an excuse to sleep on their bed. As soon as he cried himself to sleep, two hours later, after their dads did everything in their power to calm him down, hugging him, giving him kisses, and assuring him his aunt Tamaya wasn’t going to let the storm hurt them, Simon raised his hand to high-five Hugh and tell him that they were amazing parents, just to realize he was already asleep. Simon silently judged him for sleeping so soundly while his son was having a crisis instead of sleeping.

When he woke up (at five in the morning) Adrian was looking out their window, with the Baby Indomitable blanket on his shoulders. The sky was still cloudy, but it wasn’t raining anymore.

“Darling, what are you doing?,” Simon told him. “Today’s Sunday. Let your daddy and I get some more sleep—”

“The storm took our flag,” Adrian blurred out.

Hugh was already awake too. “What?”

“You said the storm wasn’t going to hurt us,” Adrian said, turning around to see them, “but the storm took our flag.”

Simon got out of bed, looked through the window...

And, yes, the flag was completely gone.

But for some reason, Simon knew it hadn’t been the storm.

“Why would the storm do something like this?” Adrian asked.

Simon didn’t know how to answer that. Luckily, Hugh did.

“Because the storm is homophobic, son.”

Adrian laughed out loud and then asked his dads if they could have pancakes for breakfast. He had already forgotten about the storm and the flag.

They didn’t. Neither of them ever forgot about it.

While Simon and Adrian ate their pancakes, Hugh went to his office because, according to him, he needed to check something. When Adrian finished his breakfast and went back to his dads’ room to watch TV, Simon stayed in the kitchen, doing the dishes, and Hugh finally came downstairs. He was pretty quiet, and Simon thought that it probably was because he had told him to eat the burnt pancakes he didn’t dare to throw away, but after he finished them all, he said:

“I lied.”

Simon threw a glance at him. “When did you lie?”

“When I said the storm was homophobic,” Hugh answered.

“Well, of course, you lied, love. Storms don’t have strong political opinions about gay people.”

Hugh didn’t laugh. “What I mean is— that it wasn’t the storm.”

Every joke Simon’s brain could come up with disappeared at that moment. So he continued doing the dishes, and Hugh, thinking he hadn’t made himself clear, continued talking.

“It was someone else. It was a person. I saw them on—”

“I know,” Simon interrupted him. “I know. I’ve always known.”

But even if Simon knew, he still told Hugh to show him the footage because four eyes were better than two (especially considering that the owner of those first two eyes needed to wear glasses). It was all useless, though; the storm made the image all blurry, and the only thing they could see was someone taking it and running away in the middle of the night.

Simon wanted to think that it was just some dumb teen whose friends had challenged him to do it. But when it came to things like those one never really knew.

On Monday, they had promised Adrian to take him to the park that was a few blocks away so they could teach him how to fly a kite, but the thought of going out made him feel as if something bad was going to happen to them if they did, so Simon told Adrian that he and Hugh were feeling sick and that they would stay in their room to get some rest. Adrian asked them if they minded that he stayed there too because he was in the middle of watching a movie he had never seen before.

“Only if we can watch it with you,” Simon answered.

It was a weird day to be alive. They really just stayed there, watching silly cartoons with their kid and listening to him ranting about the weird proportions those characters had.

During the afternoon, Adrian told them he was hungry, so Simon went downstairs to look for something they could eat. He was thinking that maybe they should order something from that Chinese restaurant Tamaya had taken him the other day, when Hugh entered the kitchen and told him Adrian had asked him if he could bring him water.

Simon felt his hands were trembling while he looked inside his wallet for the paper where he had written the restaurant’s phone number.

“Do you want to get another flag?” Hugh asked him.

And something hurt.

Something hurt inside of him. Something started to cry, and to scream, and to flicker, trying to make him invisible to the world.

And it told him, the same way Adrian had told him he was hungry, that someone had taken him by surprise and made a deep cut on his chest.

But Simon didn’t allow it to come out.

He just said: “No.”

And Hugh answered him: “Me neither.”

He called the Chinese restaurant to order some food, while Simon went to their room with Adrian again and cuddled with him, trying to tend to the wounds of that something that was bleeding out inside of him.

Little Simon was crying, and screaming, and flickering, and needed adult Simon to take care of him.

The next day, they talked about the incident with the rest of the Council during their lunch break. It was one of those few occasions the six of them were together in the same room during their work hours. Tamaya was furious about the flag situation. She ranted for a good five minutes without anyone interrupting her about how fucking horrible people were and that she was going to find that little piece of shit and cut his hands off. Kasumi nodded in approval while drinking some horchata she had bought for herself, probably thinking about how to ask Tamaya to let her join her revolution (something she didn’t need to do, since Tamaya always included Kasumi in everything she did). Evander, on the other hand, was very quiet, something that made him feel a little bit relieved because he was not a sensitive person and Simon didn’t want him to... Evander the situation.

He didn’t say anything insensitive that day, though.

In fact, he said something… helpful, even.

“What about a flag made of light?”

Hugh rubbed his eyes and Simon knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

Because he said that phrase constantly.

“Shut the fuck up, Evander.”

But Evander didn’t shut up. “Dude, think about it. No one would be able to take down a flag made of light.”

And everyone realized that, now, it was not only one of those strange occasions when the six of them got together to have lunch during their work hours; it was also one of those strange occasions when Evander had an idea that was actually good.

So after spending another hour discussing how they were going to make it work, they decided they were going to lit up the building in rainbow-colored lights.

Tamaya and Hugh were the ones in charge of almost all the operation because Evander said he had already given them the idea, so he didn’t need to do anything else (and then got mad at Hugh when he told the media he was the one who came up with it). Kasumi helped them, but was especially insistent about putting a trans pride flag somewhere in the building, and after they agreed with her, she personally hung it on the main entrance of Headquarters.

They started turning the lights on each night of June since that yeat.

Hugh and Simon still didn’t get a flag. Three nights after they told their friends about what had happened during the thunderstorm, Simon was woken up by the sound of someone crashing against the trash cans and almost jumped out of the window with his dagger on hand to slay whoever was trying to break into their house, but when he peeked out to see what was going on, he realized the “robber” was Kasumi, who had put a bunch of small pride flags on some pots they kept on their porch and started crying as soon as she realized Simon was watching her, not because she was upset the surprise she had for them had been ruined, but because now she was covered in trash.

(That week was like a sign Georgie was sending them from the afterlife to tell them they needed to install a better security system.)

Those were the only flags they kept around the house. They were small and discreet, and, most importantly, no one had taken them away. Why? Well— because they listened to Georgie’s sign and installed a better security system. Not because there weren’t any more homophobes out there who were willing to do it.

Until that moment, those flags (the little ones Kasumi had given them in a rather unconventional way and the one made of light that Evander had come up with) had been more than enough for them. But, two years after the supernova, after Tamaya notified them the gearboxes that contained the lights had gotten soaked and that she needed the money to buy more before the next day (June 1st), Simon realized they were not enough for him anymore.

Simon wanted a bigger flag.

No. He wanted two.

The biggest pride flags he could find.

***

That was the reason why, after having pancakes for breakfast (because it had rained during the night), he took the car, took the other three people living in that house with him, and after he was able to read the map, they arrived at a store that, among other things, sold flags like the ones they were looking for.

“I want one too,” Adrian told them when they were at the flag section of the store. “For my room, you know. And I want to get ones for Danna and Nova because I don’t think they have any. They would’ve told me.”

Usually, when Adrian asked for something Simon hadn’t agreed to buy him, like some candy, an action figure, or a pair of sneakers, he would turn around and ask him if he had the money to buy any of those things himself, which would anger him so much he would stop wanting that certain thing.

But that day, he felt like buying them everything they wanted. As if money grew on trees (something he always told his kids didn’t happen.)

“Of course, darling,” he answered, “get them everything you want. It’s pride month.”

“It’s May 31th,” Max said. He was inside the shopping cart Hugh had grabbed the second they entered. It was something he always did, even if they weren’t going to buy a lot of things because, according to him, it felt weird and wrong not to.

“It’s almost pride month,” he corrected himself.

“So can I get something for Nova?” Adrian asked again, just to make sure.

“You can get something for Nova,” Hugh assured him, smiling a little bit.

Adrian quickly turned around and started looking for the flag he wanted while texting Nova about something Simon couldn’t read (not like he was trying to, anyway).

After making sure Adrian stayed on the same aisle as them, they started walking around, gazing at the flags and posters available. Simon felt pretty progressive because he was able to name every single sexuality and gender they were supposed to represent. He imagined Hugh was doing the same thing, but with a lot more difficulty than him. He kept his eyes fixated on each flag longer than Simon did, as if he were trying to remember what they meant, and when he did, he pushed the cart (with Max still inside of it, playing a game on Hugh’s phone because he had forgotten his tablet at home), and the cycle began again.

But suddenly, Simon saw ones that he didn’t recognize.

After three seconds of standing in front of those little flags, someone hit him in the butt with their cart. He turned around immediately, ready to say a really threatening “Hey” to whoever had done it.

Hugh was the only other person who was there. He had been the one who had hit him with the cart.

Suddenly, Simon felt a little bit stupid for thinking someone else had done it.

The two of them maintained eye contact for a couple of seconds until Hugh started looking at his own hands grabbing the cart’s handle.

“Simon.” Before Simon could ask him what happened, he added, with a deep voice: “Move.”

Simon didn’t move. Instead, he hit the cart with his hips, just out of spite. Hugh hit him again with it, making Simon feel the unexpected need to grab the cart with his two hands and use his own weapon against him, but Max was there and they couldn’t act like kids in front of him. So he just hit the cart with his hips again, a little bit harder than the first time, and left it there.

He realized he was just going to be wasting his time asking Hugh if he knew what that flag was supposed to represent.

“Cherub,” he called Max. “Do you recognize this flag?”

Max looked up from the screen. He usually didn’t like it when he called him “cherub” in public, but this time, he didn’t seem mad about it. “Um… no? Ask Adrian—” and continued playing.

Adrian came back with a basket full of pins, and for a second, Simon almost asked him if he really was that naive to believe he was actually going to pay for all of them. But then, he realized that it was only the basket where they kept all of the pins they sold and that Adrian had taken it to show them to them.

“Look, they have so many pins here—” he started taking random pins “—this is the aromantic flag… this is the genderfluid flag—”

“Interesting,” Hugh interrupted him, “but which flag is that one?” and pointed at the one Simon didn’t recognize.

Max took a random pin from the basket and started looking at it with curiosity. Adrian almost didn’t pay attention to it, and after a few seconds, he said: “That one’s yours.”

Simon frowned and took one. It was a handheld flag with green and blue stripes, with a white one in the middle. He touched the polyester with his fingertips as if that was going to give him the ability to communicate with it.

“But we don’t have a flag,” Hugh told Adrian. “I’ve heard of the lesbian fl—”

Adrian took a pin of the lesbian flag. “This one.”

“Yeah— but gay men don’t have one.”

“The rainbow is ours,” Simon said, without taking his eyes away from the blue and green flag he was holding. “Like, it’s for all queer people.”

Hugh directed his attention to Adrian again. “You’re messing with us.”

“I do mess with you a lot,” Adrian admitted, “but this time I’m not because if I do and you get mad, you won’t buy me all the stuff I want to get.”

“Huh.”

Simon knew Adrian and Max were a lot of things, but "dumb" wasn't one of those. And Adrian was especially intelligent when it came to convincing his parents to buy him things.

So he decided to believe him.

“Well, I like it,” he said. Then, he asked Hugh: “Do you like it?”

Hugh grabbed one and observed it for a while. “I like that it has blue on it,” he finally answered, nodding a little bit.

Simon noticed Max was spacing out while playing with the pin he had taken, so he waved the flag on his face, making him laugh and sneeze because the damn thing had a lot of invisible dust Simon didn't notice at first.

“Oh, sh—”

“You know? Maybe we should get two of these,” Hugh said, waving it too, but in his case, not on the face of one of their kids. “For our offices.”

“Matching flags, very romantic.”

Max rubbed his nose. “Why don't you get a big one for the house?”

Simon quickly started to look everywhere on that aisle, and he saw a lot of big versions of the flags he had recognized before (and some of the ones Adrian had mentioned), but there were no gay flags in sight.

“Maybe next year, I guess,” he shrugged. “I don't think they have them here yet.”

He grabbed two of the rainbow flags that were there, inside their respective plastic bags, gave them to Max, and he put them on his lap, still holding that pin. Simon made a quick mental note to remind his future self they needed to pay for that (he didn’t know if it had to with the fact that Max had been spending a lot of time with Maggie, Nova’s sister, but he had developed this weird habit of stealing the most random objects one could think of. Luckily, he limited himself to stealing things from his dads and, one time, from a store.) (Kids went through weird phases when they were Max’s age.)

(Because… it was a phase, right?)

Adrian received a text. “Danna says that she already has a flag, so I’m getting her a pin,” he said after reading it. “And Nova says she wants one too.” Then, his whole face lit up. “And I could get one too so we match.”

“Copycat,” Simon accused him, jokingly. “Your dad and I got matching flags, and now you want to get matching pins with your girlfriend.”

Hugh shook his head, disappointed. “I cannot believe you have betrayed your own family like this.”

They stayed at the store another 30 minutes to buy some other things they needed for the house, and from time to time, when he or Hugh grabbed something, they pretended they didn’t see Adrian and said: “Um, but the copycat may be listening” to a point he told them to stop, and refused to forgive them until they agreed to buy him the flag he didn’t intend to get anymore, but now was going to.

He got the last bisexual flag there was at that store.

***

The first time the four of them were together in their room was last June. Something went wrong with the A/C system of the entire house and the only room where one could stay without having a heatstroke was theirs because their A/C hadn’t broken down for some reason. Adrian and Max were sleeping on the air mattress until Simon (who hadn’t been able to sleep lately) heard that one of them woke up and asked Hugh something. He sat down on the bed, at the same time Hugh moved a little bit to allow Adrian to lay down between the two of them.

Then, in the middle of the dark, his eyes met Max’s.

He looked tiny. Young. Pretty young.

And far away.

Simon couldn’t remember who did it. He didn’t remember who talked that night. It could have been him, even. But he was sure that, at that moment, someone whispered:

“Get in here, kid.”

And Max obeyed. He crawled, raised his arms towards them, and Hugh grabbed him carefully by the collar of his shirt and placed him between him and Adrian.

It was a peaceful night. The bed was big enough for the four of them, and Simon was able to sleep and actually rest for the first time in weeks.

At least until their A/C turned off with a weird sound, and the four of them woke up at the same time, sweaty, uncomfortable, and almost at 11 AM, not because they weren’t necessarily willing to stay there longer, but because the heat was starting to get unbearable and suddenly the bed was too small for three adults and a little kid that was not that little anymore.

“This isn’t a room, this is a— a freaking oven,” Hugh said, while Adrian tried to push him out of bed to get the hell out of there and seek comfort on the air mattress he had abandoned in the middle of the night.

“And we are the... cookies,” Max giggled.

“The turkey,” Simon added.

Max turned around. His whole face was red and his hair was a little bit wet. “The lasagna.”

Simon grabbed him by the cheeks; a discreet way to check if he had a fever. “The cake.”

“The ham.”

“The—”

“Dad. Move.”

Later that day, Simon called someone to fix the A/C, and that was the end of the story.

When they arrived at the house, Adrian wanted to hang his flag as soon as possible, on one of his room’s walls, but Simon insisted that they should iron it first so it looked nicer. Hugh said that he was planning on ironing the ones they had bought for the house and offered Adrian to do the same with his, but when he insinuated that he didn’t trust him enough not to mess up his flag the same way he had messed up his favorite shirt (the one he wanted to wear to take Nova to a nice place during her birthday), Hugh reminded him that the only reason he kept doing that for him was that Adrian didn’t know how to iron yet, and decided that he was going to use that moment as a teaching opportunity. Max made the mistake of laughing at his brother when he thought no one was paying attention to him, but Adrian was and dragged Max into the teaching opportunity with him.

Simon joined too. Just because.

And suddenly, the four of them were in their room again.

With the A/C on, of course.

He didn't know if Hugh had noticed, but he had been so invested in his own explanation, that after he finished ironing the two rainbow flags, he started ironing Adrian’s without realizing it. Adrian, instead of giving up and stop pretending he was paying attention, was looking, kind of mesmerized, how he opened the bag of his blue, purple, and magenta flag, and proceeded to put it on the ironing board, now telling him that when Georgie had tried to teach him how to iron his clothes, she accidentally burnt Evander.

Simon was half-listening to the story, half-listening to the music video that Max was watching on the TV. He was sitting on a big and old ottoman they had bought a long time ago but had never found the perfect place to put it and just stayed there for years until they forgot about it. Max was in front of him, sitting on the floor and resting his back on the ottoman, while he covered his blond hair with small butterfly hair clips he had found at the store and bought just because he thought they were cute (who knows, maybe Nova wanted them for Maggie, or Kasumi could use them for herself, she loved them when she was little).

When all the hair clips were on Max's hair, he took a small mirror they kept in the bathroom (but Simon borrowed it for a minute) and gave it to him so he could see the final result.

“Look at me,” Max exclaimed, laughing. “I look so pretty.”

Simon grabbed one of the hair clips and pulled it a little. “Butterfly hair clips are a popular trend this time of the year.”

“This is definitely going to make me the most popular kid in the playground.”

“Definitely.”

He leaned forward to start taking the butterfly hair clips off Max's hair and was putting them on Max’s open hand when he noticed that he hadn’t let go of the pin they bought him at the store.

(Simon did remember to pay for the thing, but if he hadn’t done it, Max wouldn’t have said anything.)

“That was really nice of you,” Simon said.

Max looked at him, confused. “What?”

“Getting a rainbow pin—” he took his other hand and started putting the hair clips on it so none of them would get lost “—to show support.”

Max didn't say anything and Simon continued with what he was doing. After the music video finished, and another one started playing, Hugh gave Adrian his flag and told him he could go and hang it in his room, and as soon as Max heard that too, he gave Simon the hair clips and followed his brother out of the room, asking him if he could help him with it.

Simon, after realizing the bag where the hair clips came in had been destroyed by Max punching holes in it with the pin, took one of the empty pill bottles he kept in his drawers and put them there.

He closed the pill bottle and realized Hugh had been gazing at him during all this time, slightly leaning on the ironing board. “What?”

“That’s my pill bottle, Si,” he told him.

“Ah—” Simon pressed his lips “—can I have it?”

“No.” Hugh smiled at him. “Yes, you can.”

“So funny. Come here—” and patted the bed mattress.

Hugh, being extremely careful not to touch the flags he just ironed, lied on the bed and sighed.

“Do you want me to play with your hair?” Simon asked him with a soft voice.

He closed his eyes and nodded.

After a while of the two of them just being silent, he said, “Hey… I heard what you told Max, by the way.”

“The butterfly hair clips trend?”

“The pin thing.”

“What about it?”

Hugh opened his eyes, just a little bit. “Just don't tell Max I told you, all right? Because he told me he wouldn't tell anyone else until he was sure, but… I think it's important the two of us know,” he explained.

Simon was starting to feel his palms get a little bit sweaty. “Okay— but just tell me, please.”

He checked overhearing their conversation one last time, and that the kids were still at Adrian's room. “Max told me a couple of days ago that he has been thinking about… what he likes.”

He stopped playing with his hair for a second. But then, he continued.

It was his way of coping with the feeling of his stomach twisting inside of him. “What he likes?” Hugh nodded again. “Huh. And has he— does he has an idea or—”

“No, he doesn't,” Hugh answered. “He just knows that he doesn't like girls. Or that's what he told me.”

Simon raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “That sounds like a lot of things. Not liking girls.”

Hugh scoffed too. “That's what I told him. And that he can take all the time he needs to figure it out. Because he can—”

“Yes. Yes, of course, he can,” Simon assured, with determination. “Life is longer than we think it is.”

They stayed silent again. And Simon couldn’t help but feel relive inside his head the moment he called Max an ally, feeling his stomach twisting even more at every second it passed.

“I feel bad.”

“Why?”

His palms started to sweat again. “Because I called him an ally.”

“It’s all right. You didn’t know.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

“You didn’t know,” Hugh repeated.

But Simon didn’t listen. “Si.”

Then, Hugh grabbed him carefully by the wrist, and, a little bit surprised, Simon tilted his head. Hugh usually didn't interrupt him when he was playing with his hair.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“No, what’s wrong with you?” he deadpanned

Simon knew him well enough to know he wasn’t trying to be rude. It was just his way of asking things. Especially when he was genuinely worried and didn’t think about modulating his tone so it It fitted the situation better.

He sighed. Because he didn’t want to lie to him. “I assumed Max was straight.”

As soon as he said it, he realized how silly it had sounded phrased like that. But he also noticed his voice had broken and he had to put a hand on his mouth so he didn’t start crying.

And Hugh, instead of saying the encouraging phrase he expected him to say…

He smiled.

And for some reason, that made him want to cry even more. “Ew, why are you smiling?” he asked.

Hugh took his time to answer him. “Oh, it’s nothing. I think I'm just… happy.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Hugh smiled more. “I know, love, I know… It's just one of those things…” he tried to find the right words this time. “One of those things I didn't think we were going to go through together,” he kept saying. “Like… we're going to be together when Max finally discovers who he really is. Like we did with Adrian. And like other people did with us. And that makes me happy.”

Simon wanted to tell him to shut up and let him cry and be dramatic as much as he wanted because he considered he deserved it. But he tried to do it, the only thing that could come out of his lips was almost imperceptible “Yeah…” and then, a small tear started running down his face. Hugh quickly noticed this and wiped it away with his finger. Simon scoffed and looked away, rubbing his nose.

“Hey…” and he moved aside so Simon could lay beside him.

The space they had was a little too small but he didn’t mind because now he had an excuse to be closer to him.

And there it was again. Little Simon. Little Simon was there again with them.

Just that this time he wasn’t crying, or screaming, or even flickering. He was just… existing.

And all he wanted to do was to exist.

When Hugh held him that way, sometimes he felt as if it was the first time he did it. Which made Simon (and the sad, angry and scared part of Simon) wonder if there was a sad, angry and scared part of Hugh that also craved that comfort and validation, and if it was the one who hugged that younger version of Simon until they convinced each other that everything was fine.

That there was nothing wrong with neither of them.

Because sometimes it was as if people didn’t remind them that as many times as they needed. So the only option they had was to be there for the other, and tell him that it was okay to hug, to kiss, to touch, and to share until the one who was talking ended up convincing both of them.

Love wasn’t temporary.

And their love was as powerful as they wanted it to be.

Those younger versions of themselves wanted to stay like that forever every single time. But their adult versions knew they couldn’t do it because they had other responsibilities that they needed to attend.

Installing those two pride flags that were next to them, for example.

Their younger versions were excited to do that, but they also asked them if they could rest together a little bit longer. And neither of them had the heart to tell them no.

Hugh started to play with a lock of Simon’s hair. “We’ll be there to catch him.”

He knew he wasn’t talking about either of them. Even if, with his eyes closed, he could see little Hugh and little Simon holding each other’s hands and throwing themselves into the world, a little less sad, and angry, and scared than before, without being sure if there was going to be someone down there to catch them if everything went wrong.

“Together.”

And Simon agreed. “Together.”

***

“He’s going to fall.”

Simon rolled his eyes.

“No, he’s not,” Hugh told Max. “I’m here.”

“But what if—”

“Done,” Simon announced before Max could even finish his sentence. “Now, let’s just hope these things stay there as long as possible, because this ladder makes me anxious. I was trembling while putting the first flag.”

Max clicked his tongue. “It’s a windy day. The wind could have pushed the ladder or something.”

Now it was Hugh’s turn to roll his eyes. “Take my hand.”

Simon went down the ladder without letting go of his hand. Then, while Hugh took it and quickly went inside the garage to put it there, Adrian pricked his little brother up with his own rainbow flag pin, and in response, Max punched him in the stomach with all his might (which wasn’t that much). Adrian laughed and pretended to be hurt, but immediately asked him if he wanted him to help him with his pin.

Simon noticed that Adrian had already put his pin of the bisexual flag on his clothes, and watching him pull Max a little bit closer so he didn’t prink him again (now by accident), while Max gazed at his hands, trying to memorize his movements so he could do the same thing when he wanted to wear that pin again, made his mouth curved into a smile.

When his husband came back from the garage, he thought he was going to tell them to stop blocking the sidewalk and get in the house so they could continue with their day. But instead of doing that, he walked towards them and looked at their waving flags, flying on their mansion for the first time in years.

Adrian grabbed Max by the waist and carried him on his shoulders so he could have a better view. And he realized that there would be a day when they would throw themselves into the world completely alone, without knowing how people were going to act and aware that two of them were brave enough to take whatever blows that they were going to throw at them.

But they weren’t going to do it alone. Because Hugh, Simon, and their hurting parts weren’t going to spend a day without reminding them that they were going to be there, ready to catch them every single time they needed it.

Simon started to look for Hugh’s hand just to realize, Hugh was already looking for his too, and when they found each other, he couldn’t contain himself and stood on his tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Then, Hugh smiled and kissed him back, this time, on the corner of his lip.

Simon felt proud of what they were.

He was really proud.

And he hoped they were proud too.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #hugh everhart #simon westwood #adrian everhart #max everhart #everhart-westwood family #the warden and the captain are sitting in a tree #obsi's writs #i should get an oscar for the homophobic storm joke

18 notes · View notes

nerdyfangirl67 · 4 years

Text

Rare Jewel - NCIS Reader Insert

Pairing: Gibbs x plus-size reader

Warning: language

Word count: 1673

Requested by: @soggy-enchilada

“Can I please request a Gibbs x plus size reader? Maybe they have to go undercover to a gala or smth together and the reader walks out in this figure hugging dress feeling and looking FLY AS FUCK and Gibbs is like hot damn. You get where I’m going?”

A/N: Alright, trustno1 is the reader’s chat URL, just for clarification (its a nod at something, send me an ask if you can figure it out! ;) ). I made up the gala name for this fic, at least to my knowledge, too. I sincerely hope this is what you were looking for @soggy-enchilada. I haven’t ever written a plus-size reader POV, and I truly hope this is what you wanted. I loved this idea BTW!! Anyways, here it is!

You had been staring at Gibbs, who unaware, had been conversing with Director Vance in the hallway of the upper level of the NCIS offices for the last fifteen minutes. The conversation wasn’t what had caught your attention. Rather it was the tall, silver-haired fox of a man that you had been watching. And this intense staring hadn’t gone unnoticed by your team members, or at least by DiNozzo.

He creeps up to your desk the first chance he has, an all-knowing “I know what you’re doing” falling from his lips. You, of course, vehemently deny anything, a little too quickly with an “I don’t know what you are talking about DiNozzo.” This causes him to let out a bark of a laugh. “Sure you don’t sweetcheeks. And I bet that Director Vance will love to know that you’ve been staring at him for the last fifteen minutes. In fact, why don’t I go tell him for you now.” He turns from your desk, heading towards the steps to the second floor.

You let out a frustrated hiss, which momentarily drew the attention of McGee. “DiNozzo, get back here.” He laughs loudly, grabbing McGee’s attention once more, as he turns and saunters back to your desk. “You’ve got it bad. And good ole Jethro doesn’t even know.” Despite your current situation, you had to let out a small laugh at his use of Gibbs’ first name. You know he would never call Gibbs that to his face.

Gibbs was still completely in the dark about the way you felt about him, which wasn’t like him. Gibbs, usually, was rather intuitive, yet despite the many obvious tells you had revealed in the past two years, some accidentally and some on purpose, he still thought you felt no more for him than a coworker.

“At least I know what I want.” You say in response, giving his a teasing reminder that he still hadn’t found ‘the one’, or at least focused on one woman in a long time. He waves a hand at you as if to distract you from the topic. “Okay, yeah. But at least I’m not drooling over our boss.” You make a face in response. “You’re wrong.” It’s the best you can come up with, and you know DiNozzo is going make fun of you for it.

“You’re wrong? Is that all you’ve got? You’re worse than Probie. At least he can come up with comebacks better than that.” He responds in jest, opening his mouth to say more but a voice stops him.

“DiNozzo, knock that shit off and get back to work.” Gibbs’ voice is as cold and unyielding as steel as he makes his way back to the bullpen. His voice startles you, making you hope he didn’t hear any of what the two of you were talking about. DiNozzo made a face at you as he backs away from your desk.

“The Military Officers Hall of Fame and Awards Gala is this Friday night and Director Vance has agreed on an undercover operation. Y/L/N and I will be attending as a couple, while DiNozzo will be going as a member of the waitstaff and McGee will be running interference in one of the surveillance vans.” He says, his voice leaving no room for argument. You nodded, nervousness already consuming you at the thought of having to find a dress that fits you comfortably. DiNozzo surprisingly doesn’t say anything except a quick “Alright” and McGee answers with a number of questions regarding the statistics of the undercover mission, which Gibbs gruffly answers with as little syllables as possible.

A ding sounding from your desktop computer, grabbing your attention. A notification blinks on your chat app, letting you know you have a new message. You open the app and see it’s from DiNozzo. You roll your eyes dramatically, knowing he is watching you from his desk before opening it.

DiNozzotheGFather68: ooooh, a whole night pretending to be a couple with Gibbs? 😉😉

trustno1: go find yourself a tray DiNozzo! i know you are gonna have to practice to make it believable

DiNozzotheGFather68: oh, bite me! no, actually, why don’t you go bite Gibbs 😉😏😗

trustno1: eww DiNozzo, stop being gross

You shut the chat app after that, not ready to deal with another round of DiNozzo’s relentless teasing. You decide to try and get some of the paperwork finished from the ever-growing stack on your desk to distract you from the growing anxiety filling your chest.

---- The rest of the day passes uneventfully and soon, you are leaving to go home, dreading the fact that you will have to scrounge through your closet to find something that would be dressy enough for the gala. You highly doubt that you’ll find a dress, which means you’ll have to go shopping, which is something else that you dread.

The ride home is short, shorter than you would have liked today, and before you know it, you are changed into your lounging clothes and staring at your closet, your favorite snack in hand, paired with a much-needed glass of your favorite drink. Opening your closet doors, you heave out a sigh at the task ahead of you. You could already see two potential dresses but you knew that when you pull them off the rack, you’ll change your mind.

After downing your drink, you pull out the first one off and immediately throw it onto your bed. That one would be one of the last ones you would wear. You would sooner go in your rattiest pajamas, in front of Gibbs, than wear that one. The second one wasn’t much better in your opinion but you tried it on anyway, not really wanting to go dress shopping tomorrow. This dress was a black mermaid style dress, with a large taffeta bottom and lace sleeves. The tag was still on it and you couldn’t even recall where you had gotten it from in the first place.

Upon first glance you feel rather confident in the dress, but the more you stare at your reflection, all you can see are the flaws in the dress. It was a bit tight across the chest and the mermaid style made it almost impossible to move, not to mention that you had no spot to put your standard issue handgun. It didn’t take you long to shed the dress and turn to the second one, a deep red velvet bodycon style dress with spaghetti straps and a flare along the bottom.

You reluctantly pull it off the hanger, and wiggle into it. Dread settles on your shoulders as you turn to look in the body length mirror. That dread quickly flies from your shoulders though, replaced with a feeling of astonishment and surprise. Not only did the dress fit, you hadn’t thought it would since it had been sitting in your closet for months, but it fit well. It hugged your thick curves and made your chest, and your butt as well, look far more pronounced, which you liked.

“Damn”, you murmur as you continue to look at your reflection. “I look like a badass bitch in this dress.” You were starting to feel excited about the prospect of spending the evening being Gibbs’ date, especially now that you looked so good.

----

Two days later, and you find yourself getting ready for the prestigious gala. You had your hair up in a fancy updo, the loose tendrils hanging around your face were casually curled. You had on your favorite diamond pendant and were wearing your sexiest black heels. You had just finished touching up your makeup when you saw the time.

“Shit.” You exclaim, grabbing your gun and shoving it into your thigh holster, which you barely managed to cover with the edge of your dress, and your shiny, almost maroon colored, clutch. You quickly, or as quickly as you can dressed as you are, get into your crappy little car and floored it to the event’s location. The engine sputters a few times in protest at the speed along the way, but you make it to the large establishment only five minutes later than when you were supposed to be.

You enter the nearly empty lobby, scanning it for the tall, muscled figure of Gibbs. You don’t see him and decide, after sucking in a deep, fortifying breath, you pull open the ballroom doors. His eyes found yours immediately, widening at the sight of you. You maintain eye contact with him as you make your way through the crowded room, past dancing couples and stately individuals.

When you reach him, he lets out a slow uncharacteristic whistle. He smiles at you, offering you a hand. You take it and he suavely spins you before pulling you close. “You, agent Y/L/N, look beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking.” He places a hand on your lower back, leading you to the dance floor. A slow, classic number starts just as the two of you reach the dance floor. He pulls you into an embrace, moving you into a slow two-step.

You rest your head on his shoulder, caught up in the act of pretending to be a couple with Gibbs. I like him, a lot. “Who?” Gibbs' voice startled you out of your daydreaming. “Hmm?”

“You said you like him? Who?” You quickly realize upon hearing his words that you had said those four words out loud.

“Him, you.” You say before you even know what you’re saying. “I like you. A lot.” He slowly breaks out in a smile. “Took you long enough.” He says simply.

“Wait what?” You ask quietly. “You knew?”

“I’ve known for a while. I just wanted to hear you say it.” He said, brushing a tendril of your hair away from your face. “And I like you too.”

Your heart thumps widely in your chest. All you could think about was what life would be like if the man holding you was yours . What a truly wonderful life it would be and you felt that you were finally on the way to this life.

#ncis #ncis fanfiction #ncis fandom #ncis imagine #ncis reader insert #reader insert #fandom #fanfiction #leroy jethro gibbs #gibbs #gibbs x reader #gibbs x reader insert #gibbs x you #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis reader #gibbs reader insert

161 notes · View notes

jovalencia · 3 years

Text

we all knew this was coming and I’m a sentimental bitch. I just wanted to write all my mutuals some little messages about how much I love you. you guys have changed my life and I am so grateful for each and every one of you!!!💕💞💓💗💖💘 anygays have fun searching for yourself in this mess and I’m sorry for any typos, I’m illiterate (and if i forgot you it’s because i lost my brain in 1912)

@cr1spyy fernanda, my first ever mutual. who would have thought that your 5th wave posts would have brought one of the most amazing people in my life to me. your posts always make me laugh and your dedication to the good morning asks is admirable (fr I could never have that much consistency) you’re so kind to everybody and you’re absolutely beautiful and incredible and I fucking love you so much. I honestly don’t even want to think about what my life would be like if I had never met you, MWAH💕🤍

@sundaymorninghangover I remember you being my first ever note!! you liked this post I made that was a reblog of a “uquiz” that was actually a rickroll lmao. you didn’t even follow me back then but whatever. Then I remember waking up one day to see that you had tagged me in a bingo ask game and I was like “ummm tf is an ask game” but I do still have a bingo card for it that I never used ekenksjs. anygays, you have good opinions on everything and you’re absolutely fucking hilarious. If you told me back in may that I would be friends with you I wouldn’t believe it bc you intimidated me but regardless I’m glad to be an arson gang member with you. your memes are god tier and so is your music taste. I love you whore!!!!!🖤💜

@sound-and-colors ma’am you’re so nice and for what??? the aesthetic stuff that you reblog is *chef’s kiss* and nobody else is out there doing it like you. we’ve never talked but I just know that you are absolutely incredible mwah❤️💛

@embeddedinmybrain tasfia you are the nicest person on his hellsite and you know it (I hope). It was so much fun being your secret admirer anon while it lasted, like fr I loved it. Your art is beautiful just like your heart and i honestly don’t know what I did to deserve such a kind soul like you in my life. You’re always there to hype me up and ily (also just cut your own hair already I believe in you)🤍💙

@gumptin you hooked me with your suus icon and reeled me in by being the coolest and funniest person ever. your posts are consistently hilarious, accurate, or relatable and I admire that. I mean it when I say you’re one of the coolest people on here. idk what I did to have you think I’m cool but I’m honored nonetheless. also you have really awesome style and hair jdnjdjdjd mwah💚💛

@nori-in-pink first and foremost, your blog always has a very nice aesthetic and I feel like I need to acknowledge that. anyway, you are so kind and supportive and you don’t take any bullshit and that is absolutely amazing. you are absolutely iconic and always reblog the best stuff so I know I can count on your blog to be fantastic. you used to scare me (idk why don’t ask) but now I know that you’re just a big teddy bear ily💗💜

@matteohnora my slurpee queen and my mememate!! you always send me the funniest shit and it doesn’t go unappreciated. You’re always there for me with a silly meme or emotional support and I don’t think I’ve ever told you how grateful I am for that. whenever you stalk my blog it makes my heart go whooosh and I feel so special. Ily and I am so glad to have met you💜❤️

@lieverobbe ah yes, the girl with the impeccable music taste. that’s what I know you as, oh well. you are more talented and kind than you could ever believe and your edits are amazing!!! whenever I see you on my dash I get all happy bc I’m like “em’s here!!!” I love all your lil posts and I am so glad that you are my mutual ilyyyyy💙🤍

@ironymane you’ve watched limitless which automatically makes you amazing. you’re an absolutely incredible and amazing person and even tho you aren’t on here as much anymore, I still love youre lil posts. And one time you kept me entertained on a 6hr car ride so you deserve some kind of award for that. ly🧡💛

@kingarthurpendragons okay the obvious thing to talk about here is your incredible talent when it comes to gif making. Like how in the hell- but you are also so kind and loving and it doesn’t go unnoticed. You don’t have to send nice asks but you do and ily for it mwah!!❤️💗

@engelkeijsers the skam nl stan that we all deserve to have in our lives. you are so fucking hilarious and relatable and all around amazing and for what? your posts always put a smile on my face and it is so much fun to clown with you. ilyyyy💚💛

@happiness-isin-you let’s ignore the fact that it took me forever to realize that this was your main lmao. your art is some of the most beautiful shit I’ve ever seen. like your style is so cool???? I could literally go on about this for hours don’t test me. the cute animal pictures are the absolute best and you’re always there for emotional support. Ilyyyyyyy💛❤️

@isakyaqi fiz you are so kind and talented and cool and I really do mean all that. You reblog always the best of content so I know I can trust it. you always put nice tags in the things you reblog things and it’s fun to read what you write because it’s almost always you hyping up the creator or the thing itself. you are awesome jdjdjdndjjd mwah🖤🤎

@cash-queens sam oh sam. Idek where to start with how much ily. You’re my famous mutual which is very iconic of you and you put up with my cat pictures and my silly antics and my riverdale posts. You’re so kind to me and everybody and whenever I make a post when I’m having a mental breakdown you’re always there to make sure that I’m doing okay. That def doesn’t go unappreciated. You’re legitimately one of the kindest and most amazing people I’ve ever known and I love you so much, more than you could ever know💛🤍

@welcometo-saturn çağrı you’re so cool. end of statement. that’s all I have to say about it. your gifs are so beautiful and you don’t take shit from anybody. you’re so down to earth that it makes it seem like you’re somebody who I’ve just always known (even tho we’ve never talked sjdjdjdjdj) so yeah anyway, you’re are a really awesome person with really good opinions and I am so glad that we are mutuals🧡❤️

@amifeelingokay it’s difficult not to start with your url bc it’s amazing and I love it. your skam posts are always so nice and cute and positive (just like you!!) and I love them. the content you reblog is always aesthetic or a nice text post and I just love your blog okay. ily💜🖤

@isthatelpome you’re so nice that I’m willing to overlook your opinion on salt and vinegar chips (they’re not good I’ll fight you on that) your dani icon is beautiful just as you are, mwahhhh🧡❤️

@earthling-isa babe you are so cute with your lil edits and your clowning. the near constant black and white aesthetic is very iconic and i love it. you’re a suus stan so I have no choice but to love you for it. i absolutely adore your gifs, especially the ones with the lil squares in the middle fygzbgut. you are absolutely beautiful and incredible and kind and I love you MWAHHHH🖤💙

@grey-mist-exist okay we’ve never talked but you seem like such a rad person. not cool but like rad (there are are subtle differences) your art is beautiful even tho idk the quotes (go off smarty pants) and overall you are just really rad, idk how else to say it mwah!!!🤍🖤<pretend it’s a grey heart

@fatoudixon hey look it’s one of the most talented people here!!! You’ve always been so kind and supportive of me and I really really do appreciate it. you have good opinions on everything and did I mention that you’re talented?? cause you are, very. Your reaction videos are amazing and not to mention iconic, just like your hair. anyway, ily and I am so glad that I have somebody as amazing as you as my mutual💙💛

@sander-klaas you are so kind and and you have so much passion. I can always trust you reblog only the best of wtfock and sobbe content which I am very grateful for. you literally just started making gifs and they are so beautiful (okay it was like months ago but whatever dkdjdjjdjdj) anyway, thank you so much for being my mutual mwah❤️💛

@jusdekiwi okay we’ve never talked but you genuinely seem like such a sweet person??? I love the stuff you reblog, it’s always the best gif sets. idk I can just tell you have good taste. I hope to get to know you better in the future, but for now I am very grateful to have you💚💙

@kritiquer my twin!!! you and I have a lot in common so ofc I love you. I’m joking obviously.... anygays you are always so supportive of everybody and you are so sweet. I love all of your personal posts, it always makes me really happy to see what you’re up to and how you’re feeling. I also like the aesthetic stuff you reblog, I have bad taste in all that, clearly you don’t. I am so glad that we started talking and I hope that we continue! ily kit!!!!💜🤍

@bleachblondebitches you aren’t on here that much, but whenever you are I get so happy! Your gifs are beautiful and I think about your sobbe and booksmart parallels gifset every day. you have amazing taste in movies and I love you!💜💙

@lesbeanfatou clara!!! bitch!!!! You already know how much I love you but I guess I’ll reiterate. I honestly don’t know what I did before I knew you. I always remember looking at the no idea blog with the Nora icons like “who is this?” Little did I know back then that you would be one of my closest friends. your support of me means the world and I am so grateful for you. I’m so glad that I have somebody in my life like you to talk to and be friends with. you are one of the funniest people in and I just love you so much I could burst mwah❤️🧡

@gucciboner okay hiii ypu are literally so fucking kind and funny, i admire your sense of humor sm. your art is so beautiful and you are so goddamn talented, it never ceases to amaze me. I also love all the little funny posts you make and reblog!! ily💙💗

@helmtaryn even though you put supernatural on my dash, I am willing to forgive you bc I love you so much. your gifs are so beautiful like ma’am didn’t you just start?? icon shit. your hate for photoshop is iconic and you are awesome. you’re always sending me asks and responding to my posts and you’re so nice and it makes my heart go whooosh. anygays you’re cool and ily💙🧡

@starmansander nina when I tell you that you give off the best vibes- okay sorry I had to start with that. I love how you are so nice and supportive of me, it really means a lot. I really like the stuff you reblog like,,, cool art? pretty women? those hopeful little posts? iconic. also youre a noor stan which is a sign of good taste. love you🤎❤️

@ijzermanora daniiiiiii madam you are so epic and iconic and I really could go on about that forever. you are so kind and you’re following all my joke sideblogs (even the ch*cken l*ttle hate blog??? why???) which is very brave of you. I love reading all of your lil wholesome posts and hearing about school and how much you hate chemistry (even tho you like sushi???) anygays we were already sending memes 10 hours into our mutualship so I think we were soulmates from the very beginning. I love you so much and I have no idea what I did before i knew you💜💗

@alwaysin-myhead okay, you give off cool person vibes and I had to acknowledge that. your art is so beautiful and you are so incredibly talented!!! I hope to get to know you in the future🧡💛

@alexiaugustin here she is!!! the queen of good opinions!!! you are such a smart cookie and you use that power to make long paragraph posts that I can actually read without falling asleep. which is impressive honestly. never has a person been so kind and funny and genius in such a well rounded way (that makes no sense) I’m so happy that I have you in my life ilyyy💚💗

@ijntba hihi you’re such a sweet person and I literally love your skam blog sm. I am so honored that you’re using one of my icons you have no idea. even though I’m confused when you post about anime, I still appreciate your passion lmao. mwah💛🧡

@hidden-joy liz!! you are such a kind soul and I absolutely love looking at the things you reblog and reading all the nice things that you put in the tags, it’s always so sweet and supportive!!! we’re relatively new mutuals, but I do hope to get to know you better in the future!!!💚💛

okay sorry to group y’all together but @fudgetunblr and @alexiswoke I like just became mutuals with y’all but I do love you and I’m glad you’re here and I hope 2021 treats you well and that i get to know you better!!❤️❤️

aaand one last final message for max and sarah, i know yall wont see this but ily🧡 💜

okay yeah I know I already said this but I really do love each and every one of you so much and I am so lucky to have so many amazing people in my life💕💕💓💕💖💖💕💘💕💗💞💓💕💖💖💘💕💓

#MWAH💕#my mutuals are pretty fuckin rad #also don’t tell anyone but the hearts at the end are the colors I associate you with #or they’re as close as I could get #*makes this post*#*goes back to sleep*

52 notes · View notes

cali-holland · 4 years

Text

Kiss the Chef- Harrison Osterfield One Shot

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield X Reader

Prompt: Harrison needs help with cooking & baking… will he turn to his ex for help or just fail miserably at making his mum a nice meal?

Word Count: 3400

Masterlist Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

Harrison let out a sigh, running a hand through his blond hair as he read over the recipe again on his laptop. Adjusting the glasses perched on his nose, he looked up and scanned the various ingredients on the kitchen counter. Why did he tell his mum he’d make her dinner for her birthday? Why did he commit to such a big thing? He couldn’t even cook without the added stress of his whole family eating it.

His sight shifted over from the dinner ingredients to the dessert ingredients. Yes, he had committed to also presenting his mother with a nice dessert because that’s what a good son does, right? It’s only now that he wishes he hadn’t just gone with the first appetizing thing he saw on the website; maybe it wasn’t a good idea to try to make a classic lemon tart, but could you blame him? Mary Berry’s website just made it look so good, he didn’t think it could be this hard.

He anxiously pulled out his phone, unlocking it and bringing up his contacts. His finger hovered over your contact, but he didn’t know if he had the strength to actually go through with it. He needed help, he needed your help. You used to cook and bake all the time together; he just wished he had paid more attention to the actual cooking and baking part, but he was far too focused on you.

“Haz, watch the stove!” You scolded him as you caught his blue eyes intently following your hands cutting up the peaches.

“My bad.” He laughed, turning back to the stove immediately. You wanted to try out a new recipe you had found online, which called for steak to be cooked on the stove for a few minutes each side. You thought it was a simple enough task to have him watch the meat- a.k.a. not burn the meat, but he was distracted. You stopped cutting the peaches that would be used for a Mary Berry certified peach cobbler later (which needed to be started now if you two wanted to eat it later) and stepped across the kitchen to inspect the steaks.

“They’re not bad.” Harrison said while he took the slightly charred steak out of the pan. You turned off the stove and pressed a kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek.

“It’s okay, it’s edible.” You paused, looking around the kitchen for the brussel sprouts you had put in the oven ages ago- the brussel sprouts he was supposed to take out. “Where are the vegetables?”

“I can’t cook anything.” He whined, hurrying to take them out of the oven.

“Haz!” You shouted, but it was too late- he’d grabbed the hot stoneware already. He dropped it, retracting his burned hand almost immediately. The brussel sprouts spilled out of the oven and all over the floor. You closed the oven door and took Harrison’s hand, bringing him over to sink to cool off the burn mark with cold water.

“This is a disaster.” Harrison groaned, looking at his red hand and then the vegetables littering your kitchen floor. “The brussel sprouts are gone.”

“I’m more concerned about your hand than the brussel sprouts.” You smiled softly at him, “I’m going to grab some burn cream, okay?”

“Okay.” He nodded, keeping his hand under the running water. You rushed off to find the ointment in the bathroom and came back to rub it gently over his hand. You kissed his hand lightly once you were done, careful not to hurt him. He smiled, “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you, too, Chef Osterfield.”

“You gonna kiss the chef?” He asked with a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes at him playfully, but you kissed your boyfriend happily anyway.

No, he couldn’t call you. He couldn’t call his ex-girlfriend after having not spoken to her for a month. He just had to suck it up and attempt these two recipes. They couldn’t be that hard. I mean, they’re just cooking and baking two dishes. He had plenty of time to attempt them, mess up, and then just call for takeout. He groaned, knowing he couldn’t disappoint his mum by getting her takeout for her birthday dinner, not when he promised her something special that he’d made.

Defeated, Harrison pressed the small call button beside your name. Holding his phone up to his ear, he tried to prepare himself for the two outcomes of this- you send him straight to voicemail or you’d pick up. Since his call didn’t immediately go to voicemail, he knew he wasn’t blocked at least, but he didn’t know if he was ready to hear your voice again.

“Hello,” You answered the phone. He wasn’t ready to hear your voice again. His heart raced and his hand began to shake. He didn’t realize how long it was taking him to respond until you spoke up again, “Harrison? Is everything alright?” “N-No.” He said. His mother’s birthday dinner was on the line and you weren’t there cooking with him, so, no, everything wasn’t alright.

“Harrison, what is it?” Your voice softened.

“I need your help.” He admitted, shaking his head. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t take the heartache on top of this stress. “No, I shouldn’t have called you. Sorry, just never mind.”

Before you could say anything else, he hung up the phone and set it aside. It was just him and these damn recipes that started to sound more and more foreign to him. Tightening the red apron around his waist, he read over the marinara recipe again. He didn’t know what a decent amount of the terms meant- sweat the onions, that couldn’t sound more unappetizing.

Just as he was googling what the hell “julienned onions” were, he heard a series of soft, yet rapid knocks on his door. Setting the onion and his phone down, he made his way over to the door. His heart stopped in his chest as he opened the door and you stood there before him.

“You sounded worried on the phone.” You said, your eyes filled with concern.

“I- um,” He froze, not knowing what to say. He’d just called his ex-girlfriend to help him make dinner and dessert for his family; it just didn’t seem like a justifiable reason to reach out to you, even if he wanted to desperately to have you in his life again.

“Are you cooking?” You asked, staring at the ‘Kiss the Chef’ apron he wore, the apron you had gotten for him back when you were dating.

“I told my mum I’d make her dinner for her birthday, and I just don’t know what a fucking julienned onion is.” He said. The frustration was clear in his voice, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“It’s thin strips.” You laughed lightly. “Let me in, I’ll help you.” Harrison wordlessly stepped aside, making room for you to go in. You took off your shoes and set your purse aside before following him into the kitchen.

“This is the only other apron I have.” Harrison held out a small stained apron to you, your matching apron to his, reading ‘I AM the chef’.

“Thanks.” You put on the apron and made yourself comfortable in his kitchen. He hadn’t changed a thing in the room, even though you had moved most of the things in his kitchen to suit your preferences because if he ever used his kitchen appliances, you were with him (and it made so much more sense to have oven mitts in the drawer right next to the stove, not in the bottom drawer hidden by the island). Your eyes scanned over the ingredients in front of you, “What are we making?”

“Marinara for dinner and tart for dessert.” He replied, and you nodded. You pushed the dinner ingredients out of the way and pulled the dessert ingredients closer to the two of you.

“Marinara doesn’t take too long, so we should do the tart first.” You said and he pulled up the dessert recipe from Mary Berry’s website. You laughed when you spotted the URL.

“I like her desserts.” Harrison insisted, not even trying to hide his smile from hearing your laugh again.

“I didn’t say anything.” You began to gather the pastry ingredients. You used to tease Harrison all the time for his love of Mary Berry’s recipes, though he could never do them properly. He tried to make a sponge cake once from her website without you, and it definitely didn’t turn out how he expected it to, but you were still delighted that he tried for you and it still tasted fine (once you got over the odd saltiness because he forgot he’d already added salt at the beginning). Whenever you two would bake together, it’d always be one of her recipes. He even got you one of her cookbooks that you still used. Your eyes scanned over the recipe, “So lemon tart?”

“Yeah, my mum loves lemons.” He stated.

“I know.” You answered softly, remembering how you’d helped him bake a lemon meringue pie with him for her birthday last year. Maybe that’s why his mum had hope for him this year, because he’d already impressed her with one amazing meal last year. “Can you get me the butter and an egg please?”

“Sure.” He replied, heading over to the fridge to get the ingredients. He placed the butter and the egg next to the mixing bowl as you started to measure out the flour and sugar. As you started to mix together the pastry ingredients, Harrison felt a sudden wave of sadness wash over him- a couple months ago, he would wrap his arms around you, pressing kisses to your neck as you would mix together the ingredients. He knew that old habit was long gone, but that didn’t mean he knew what to do with himself now.

“How’s work been?” He asked. He didn’t know what to do besides attempt to make small talk with you.

“Busy, but it’s not bad. And you?” You added the eggs and water while he got out a tart tin and a roller.

“Been good. Got home a couple weeks ago.” He answered, immediately hating his reply. You broke up because of his work, because he was away too much, and the breakup wasn’t even in person. You couldn’t wait for him to come home; it hurt you too much to just wait for him every day, so you ended things over the phone, and it hurt you to do it, too. You didn’t want your relationship to end, you loved Harrison and you still do, but it was too much for you to just keep wondering when the next time he’d come home- it all just felt too unreliable. And Harrison knew that, he knew you didn’t want to leave him, but he knew it killed you that he was gone, and hell, it hurt him too to be away from you. But it was his job, and he couldn’t help it.

“It’s nice that you’re doing this for your mum.” You said, rolling the pastry dough into a ball. You handed it to him, allowing him to roll it out just like he used to (he always had to roll out the dough so you could admire his arm muscles, which you were definitely doing now).

“It was a good idea, but you know how I am in a kitchen.” He laughed, making you smile.

“Chef Osterfield the kitchen klutz.” You teased. His bashful smile and the blush that spread across his cheeks at the old nickname didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“We both know who was the real chef in the relationship.” He joked, nodding down to your apron.

“The apron doesn’t lie.” You laughed. You looked down, watching him roll out the dough. You placed a hand on his to stop his movements, and Harrison’s heart soared at the feeling of just your gentle hand on his. “You’re rolling it a bit too thin.”

“Is it good then?” He tooks his hands away from the dough and you nodded.

“Yeah, it needs to chill now.” You said, delicately picking up the thin dough and placing it in the tin, setting up so the extra dough hung over the edges. You placed it in the fridge and turned back to face Harrison.

As the pastry dough rested in the fridge, you helped Harrison prepare the lemon filling for the tart. When the pastry finally made it into the oven for its initial blind bake, you started on the marinara.

“Am I julienning it right?” Harrison asked, once he had cut a couple slices of the onion.

“Thinner.” You placed your hand over his on the knife and you cut a thin slice of the onion off, a perfect julienned onion. Harrison sniffed and you looked over at him with a small laugh.

“Onions.” His eyes watered up.

“You’d know that they make you cry if you ever actually cut them.” You teased, taking over cutting the onion as he stepped back, blinking his eyes.

“You always did such a good job cutting them, though. I didn’t want to interfere with that.” His sarcastic voice was drowned out by his sniffles, trying to hold back the onion-induced tears.

“Can you tear the basil leaves?” You asked, and he nodded, focusing his attention on that while you continued your work. “And I have to say, I agree, I do cut onions better than you, but that’s just because you didn’t realize you had to peel an onion before cutting it.”

“Hey now,” He faked offense at your truthful comment, “I didn’t cook with actual onions until you came along. Why cry over real onions when you can use onion powder and shit?”

“You didn’t cook before I came along. I don’t even know how you survived without me.” You laughed.

“I didn’t.” Though his tone was playful just like yours, you both knew there was more truth behind his words than either of you would like to admit. He passed a small bowl of torn basil leaves over to you on the counter. “They’re done.”

“I think the pastry’s done, too.” You said, “Make sure you-”

“Use oven mitts.” He cut you off with a smile, already knowing you were concerned he’d burn himself again. With an oven mitt covering his hand, Harrison took out the pastry and held it out to you for approval. You nodded and so he set it to the side. You put some oil into the stockpot before adding the onions to sweat them.

“Here, watch this for a bit. I’ll put the filling in.” You instructed, stepping back from the marinara to focus back on the tart. Harrison did as you had said, stirring the onions occasionally until you had the filling in the tart and the tart back in the oven. You added the rest of the ingredients to the marinara mix, letting it steam for a while. Harrison made his way to the fridge as you sat down at the island bar.

“Do you want some wine? I think have- aha,” He smiled proudly, pulling out an unopened bottle of your favorite wine. He was happy to still have it, but you both knew that he had it from before you broke up.

“I’d love some.” You replied and he poured you a glass. He got himself a beer from the fridge and opened it; leaning against the counter casually, he faced you.

“Remember when you made me that raspberry tart?” Harrison asked, remembering fondly to that day, just a month before you had broken up.

“It shipped so poorly. I’m still mad.” You said before taking a sip of your wine.

“But it was still amazing. A raspberry tart with pistachio crust, it was the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“Maybe I’ll make it for you again sometime.” It was a small offer, but it held so much weight to it. Sometime meaning that there was potentially a next time and Harrison wasn’t sure if he wanted to fully hope for that. He’d alright let you walk out of his life once, he wasn’t sure he could handle it again, although he felt fairly certain that, after tonight, you’d leave again. He looked at his watch and his eyes went wide when he realized how late it was getting.

“I need to get cleaned up, my family will be here in half a hour. Do you mind watching the food?” He asked, and you smiled with a nod.

“Go on, you’re fine.” You reassured him, looking down at your phone to make sure your timers for the tart and the marinara were right. Harrison walked towards his bedroom, but turned at the last moment to look at you again. He sighed. He really missed you this past month, and you were right there in front of him now, so why couldn’t just say those three words he wanted to say? Thinking about it, he didn’t know which three words he wanted to say more: I miss you or I love you.

After a few minutes, you got to work on the pasta, timing it out to be ready at approximately the same time as the marinara sauce. As you finished taking the tart out of the oven, there was a knock at the door, and you knew it had to be his family. You froze, not knowing what to do. Harrison was still in his room getting ready, and his family was twenty minutes early. You were once close with the Osterfield clan, though you weren’t sure anymore. You’d date Harrison for nearly two years, but you were still the girl that broke his heart last month. Sighing, you knew it was best to let them in and play off the awkwardness as best you could, so you went to the door and opened it with a smile.

“Y/N?” His mom asked, surprised to see you.

“It’s me.” You smiled. You felt your heart soar as she pulled you in for a hug; though you and Harrison may not be together anymore, you still wanted his mother to like you.

“Let me guess, he didn’t make all this on his own then.” His sister joked and you nodded your head sheepishly. You all made your way back into the kitchen, where the smell of marinara filled the air.

“Yeah, he needed some help. I think he’s-“ You stopped yourself as Harrison stepped out of his room. His glasses were off and he had slipped into a comfy sweater, one that you would steal from him all too often. His damp curls were pushed back and away from his face, and they made your heart flutter inside. You wanted nothing more than to steal that sweater again and to run your fingers through his hair just one more time.

“Happy birthday, mum.” He smiled, pulling her in for an affectionate hug.

“Y/N was just telling us you needed help in the kitchen.” She teased.

“Why don’t you tell ‘em what’s on the menu, Chef Osterfield?” You playfully nudged him with your elbow, before you turned to take care of the pasta and marinara sauce.

“We have marinara pasta for dinner and lemon tart as the dessert. Mainly made by Y/N.” He added, his smile still bright as ever as he spoke to his family.

As his family got distracted with their own conversation, you started to feel out of place, knowing that you shouldn’t stay. You turned off the stove as the pasta and sauce finished and quietly turned to Harrison.

“I think I’m going to head out.” You said, catching the frown that crossed his face. You took off your apron and put it aside on the counter.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? The only reason we’re not having takeout is because of you.” Harrison spoke softly, not wanting his family to completely overhear the conversation, though he knew they were listening in as they talked.

“I shouldn’t stay.” You insisted. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, before heading to the entryway to get your shoes and your bag.

“Harrison.” His mum said, drawing his attention away from you as you left. When he looked at his family, his mother shook her head at him, “Go after her.”

Without another word, he rushed out of the kitchen and out of his house. He caught your wrist just before you reached your car, turning you to face him. Before you could say anything, he kissed you passionately.

After a moment, he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours, smiling softly at you. “I miss your raspberry tart with pistachio crust.”

“Maybe I could be persuaded to make more.” You teased.

“I missed you, so much.”

“I missed you, too, Chef Osterfield.”

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield one shot #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield x y/n

262 notes · View notes

spnfanficpond · 3 years

Text

Pond Diving - Queen-of-deans-booty

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

Want to volunteer, send us an ask! We’re looking forward to learning more about all of you! Not sure what PD is, you can learn more here.

“Don’t Be Koi About It” - All About You

Name: Jordan

Age: 23

Location: Arizona, USA

URL: @queen-of-deans-booty

Why did you choose your URL: Honestly, Dean is the first person I liked on SPN and his ass is so tight and I believe all women are queens so that’s why.

What inspired you to become a writer: I remember reading a book in middle school about vampires, and it’s the first book I remember reading that made me feel all sorts of emotions that books never used to do for me before then. It amazed me to feel these things from a book, and I realized that I wanted to do that for other people someday, thus, is why I became a writer.

How long have you been writing: Gosh, since 8th grade. Might have been a little bit before that, but I remember in 8th grade writing a full book at 20k words, which if I might say, is impressive for a thirteen-year-old.

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc? I actually am a security guard at a chemical plant. There is some down time to this job, and I try to spend it writing. I even gush to my boss about the stories I write and where I post, and he is all for supporting me about it. When I am not working or writing, then I am either watching Criminal Minds, Manifest, and movies while in my room. With this COVID thing going on right now, I barely leave my house as it is xD

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom? Since season 11 was on TV. It was actually after season 11 had ended and before season 12 had started, so in that four-month span, I managed to watch 11 seasons.

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? Yes! I am in the Marvel and Criminal Minds fandom! I used to be in The Vampire Diaries fandom, but I lost my passion for it so I knew my writing was suffering, so I stopped it. I am doing series rewrites for all three of my fandoms along with one-shots and drabbles!

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? Yes, I try to. I took a NaNoWriMo class in college that made me write my first real book, so that is exciting. I also took fiction classes that made me write poems and short stories. I do want to get into writing more original fiction, but right now, I am focusing more on fanfiction.

Favorite published author: I love Riley Sager, B.A. Paris, James Patterson, Ruth Ware, and there are specific books I adore, but they aren’t from the authors I mentioned. I tend to like books rather than authors.

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?: Vampire Kisses by Ellen Schreiber. That's the book that I mentioned about inspiring me to write, and I dedicate my love for writing to her.

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc): I really enjoy reading fluff, but I enjoy writing angst because I feel I can have a lot more emotions and feels when I write angst.

Favorite piece of your own writing: My SPN series rewrite. I am currently planning season 7, and I am in the process of releasing season 6. I have gotten so many good reviews of it, and that fuels my passion for it.

Most underrated fic you have written: I can’t think of any at the top of my head. I tend not to look back on my own writing too much. I’ll have an overwhelming need to rewrite it and fix it up, and I don’t need that right now xD

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show: Is it bad to say my series rewrite? It’s already a show, but I’d like to see my version of the show. If I can’t pick that, then my original fiction novel that I wrote that has over 70k words. That would be pretty cool.

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s): @impala-dreamer, @torn-and-frayed, @crispychrissy, @kittenofdoomage, @acreativelydifferentlove, @saxxxology, and there are others, but those are some of the people that come to mind.

Favorite fic from another writer: Can I mention a few? Rock, Paper, Scissors by @impala-dreamer, The Curious Incident of Episode 14x09 by @luci-in-trenchcoats, On the Road by @notnaturalanahi, Cherry Surprise by @crispychrissy, A Change of Scenery by @cass-trash, and On the Case Files (Criminal Minds fandom) by @hotchnerfuckmeup.

Favorite character to write: For Supernatural, it’ll have to be Dean Winchester. For Marvel, it’ll have to be either Loki or Bucky. For Criminal Minds, it’ll have to be Spencer Reid

Favorite Pairing to write: I only write reader-inserts so the characters don’t really matter as long as it’s x reader.

Least favorite character to write (and why): For Supernatural, it’s Crowley. I don’t know why, but I can never seem to get him right. He’s more sadistic and hardcore sometimes and I just can’t get that right.

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor? I don’t really have anyone right now. It used to be my teachers/professors, but I graduated and I don’t see them anymore.

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing? I want to be a published author. That’s all I want. I want to see my books on the shelves, and I’d also love to be a fiction editor! I can’t do anything right now because of COVID, but hopefully one day!

How many work-in-progress stories do you have: More than I can count right now. Like seriously, I probably have over 100. I have a bunch of bingo cards that I have ideas for, but I have so many that they all just pile on. There will come a time when I get through all of them, but I don’t know when.

What are you currently working on? Right now? Some requests and my spn series rewrite.

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing? Like I mentioned above, it’s Ellen Schreiber. She is the one person that made me want to become a writer. Also, all my followers on all of my blogs. They are the truest influencers because they are what gives me passion for my writing.

Best writing advice you've been given: Write as if you’re the only audience. I’ve learned that if you don’t like what you’re writing about, then your audience will certainly see it. You can’t please everyone, so please yourself. There will always be someone who loves your writing for what it is, so don’t go changing it to please others.

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing: Trying to pace myself. I’ve heard of people spending two or three days (or even longer) on a fic. It’s either all or nothing with me. I either spend two or three hours on a fic and complete it right there and then, or I don’t write it at all. Pacing is an issue for me, and I am always trying to spend longer on a fic. I guess I just type really fast, I don’t know.

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction? I find that trying to keep the character as canon as possible is most difficult. While it’s not always super hard, it does have its moments. All fanfiction are AUs, so it’s okay to change the characters to make them your own. While I don’t think one should make them the complete opposite if they are wanting to stay within canon, I do believe it’s okay to change a few things around.

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why): I want to write ships. Now that I think about it, I’m not quite sure why I don’t write them. Maybe it’s time that I start.

What inspires/motivates you to write: Feedback!!! Reader’s don’t always see it, but every piece of feedback I get makes me want to write. I do better knowing there are actual people out there that are looking forward to what I write. I do better knowing that real people are reading them and judging it. I do my best knowing that there is an audience. If I don’t get feedback, then that motivation just goes away.

How do you deal with self doubt: I’m not so sure I always do. There is always a voice in the back of my mind telling me that my stories are complete and utter shit, and I shouldn’t bother writing anything. It’s why I take a step back from writing so often. When I first started my blog, I came out with fics every single day. I was always writing new stories. Now, I may get a story out per week. Maybe two per week. I know when it’s time to take a break for a few days because it gives that voice time to calm down. My best advice for someone dealing with self doubt is to just take a break. Separate yourself from the thing that your mind is telling you that you suck at. Take care of you before jumping back into it. Trust me, it helps.

How do you deal with writer's block: Kind of the same thing as I mentioned above. I have suffered from writer’s block a lot more than in my earlier years. Sometimes, I just don’t have the motivation or the passion to write, and I just get so mad at myself for not doing it. One of the things that help me is writing down my ideas. Yeah, I get ideas that float in my head about stories I’d like to write, but actually writing them down makes them concrete. Then, I am able to make notes and side notes and notes of my notes about what I’d like to happen, and before I know it, I’m writing it.

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: ALWAYS! Always, always, always plan your writing, especially if you’re doing a series. It’s good to know what is going on in your story. You don’t always have to follow it to the exact detail (you’re allowed to make changes as you go), but having a plan makes it easier to get through your story. You’re able to look back at it and remind yourself why you're writing that exact scene or if something needs to be added or taken away from it. If you have a plan, then you’re less likely to lose that passion since you know what’s going to happen. You’re able to see the finish line well before you start.

Do you have any weird writing habits: This may be weird, but I like to listen to Got U On by Darci feat. Nessly, Highest in the Room by Travis Scott, some music by Juice WRLD, and other loud rap songs. Don’t ask me why, but I find the music soothing when I write. Those rap songs sound the same to me, and their voices just drown out so I’m just listening to the music. There are other kinds of music I listen to like piano instrumentals and rain/thunder sounds, but it’s really any song I can tune out.

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it? I don’t want to sound arrogant or snobby, but I can honestly say I’ve never received one hateful comment on anything I’ve written (knock on wood xD). I’ve only received good things about my stories, and I think it has something to do with how much good energy I am putting into the world. I believe in karma, and I tend to be nice to everyone regardless of who they are, and I think it comes back to the kind of comments I receive. However, I always think about what I’d do or say if I’ve ever gotten a hate comment. I wouldn’t encourage them to send more hate, but I wouldn’t apologize either. I write the stories I write because it makes me happy. If they don’t like it, they can go somewhere else. Though, I know those hate comments can get to some people, and here is what I have to say about that: remind yourself of when you actually wrote the fic. If you were truly happy about it, then it shouldn’t matter what that person says. You love it, and that’s all that matters.

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic? I have to pick a favorite? XD I have an album in my phone of screenshots I took of my favorite comments left by my followers. I’ve been compared to John Green, there have been comments that thank me for giving them an escape from their realities, people have told me they want to write just like me someday, people have told me that my work has made them smile and get chills, that my stories are the highlight of their week, and a bunch of other stuff. I am just shocked that there are people out there who think this. It means so much to me, and I get tears when I read them because this is literally my dream. I can’t thank my followers enough for the comments they leave, and this is exactly why it’s so important to leave feedback.

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be? Write for you. I can’t stress this enough. I’ve mentioned it before, and I’m going to mention it again. If you’re not happy, it will show through your writing. Your audience will see it based on how you word things and your flow of ideas. On another note, please brush up on your grammar. I can’t tell you how many times I read such an interesting summary, and noticed the story was full of grammatical mistakes. It made me not want to read it anymore. I’m sure it was a great story, but I didn’t want to put myself through that just to read it.

#pond diving #spnfanficpond

13 notes · View notes

yutahoes · 3 years

Text

Sakura

(Part Six)

One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six

genre : Chaptered, Fluff, Dramatic

pairing : childhood friends: soccer player! Nakamoto Yuta x single mom! Y/N

word count : 2.8k words

You’ll always be his Sakura.

@ailoveyuta @loona-4-eva @aiforyuu @2-3-t-i @cosmiclatte28 @url-lindo-sexy @nuoyipeach @aaasteroidsky @thisis-myname @yutazen01

“Dude, are you out of your mind? You’re going to transfer to the Korean team?” Yuta rolled his eyes. How many times does he have to tell Mark about this? Korea is doing well in soccer, maybe he can transfer to the team since he started playing soccer here. “You’re promising. Even the coach says so.”

Yuta sighed then leaned on the counter. “It’s only for three years, Mark. After that, I’ll transfer to the Japan team or go back to Spain.” He explained before thanking the pharmacist for the medicine.

“I totally underestimated you, hyung.” Mark claimed. “I didn’t know you were the type to do these for a girl.”

“You’ll understand it when you fall in love.” Yuta smiled then stopped when he spotted the younger girl seated on the bench outside her mom’s room and she was looking at him. "I'll talk to you later, Mark." He hung up the phone then sat beside her. "Why are you outside? It's pretty chilly."

"Jae is noisy." She said in a soft voice before turning her book to the next page. Yuta checked on the title of the book she's reading, The ABC Murders by Agatha Christie. A young child reading a suspense thriller book. Cherry is indeed something. "Ahjusshi…" she called without leaving her gaze on the book. "When did you know that you love my mom?"

He sat next to her, placing the bag of medicine beside him. "I heard what you said on the phone, that you're in love. How do you know that you're in love with someone?" Is this some boy trouble? But isn't she too young to be thinking about this? And, is he the right person to tell her these things? "Do you really love my mom?" Then it might not be some personal problem.

Yuta sighed then bent forward so that his elbows were on his lap. "I don't know when it started. Taeyong might be right that I do love her even before she left for Chicago."

"When did you know that you are in love with her?"

He smiled. "You know your mom had that twinkle in her eyes when she's so happy about something. I like that twinkle." Yuta grinned as if remembering a memory. Y/N holding a snow globe while smiling. The white snow falling on her as the lights of Osaka illuminate her. "I wanted to protect that happiness for the rest of my life."

"If you really love her, why did you let her meet my dad?"

That question. She already asked it back in the aquarium and he was honestly surprised. He doesn't know what to answer to that back then but now he knew. "I was a coward." That answer obviously surprised Cherry. "I was scared that I can't keep that smile." He grinned then ruffled her hair that made her whine. "I hope, now, we can keep your mom's smile." She only nodded.

"You're a great listener, Cherry."

The younger sighed. "That's all I ever do, listen."

Yuta smiled. "Then if you ever needed someone to talk to, I'll be here." He gestured to the book. "Can you tell me this story when you're done?" The older guy smiled widely when she nodded. Yuta removed the jacket he's wearing and wrapped it around her. "You should come inside when it gets too cold. Your mom will worry if you get sick."

Cherry nodded that made him stand up, heading to Y/N's room. But before he could enter the door, the younger girl held his wrist. "Thank you…" she said quietly. "Samchon." Yuta smiled. She’s such a tsundere.

----

It was an everyday scenario for the past school week that Yuta would fetch the kids after school then head to the restaurant where Y/N is working to eat lunch. Sometimes, he would teach Jae soccer while Cherry waits for them, reading her book quietly.

It was Friday when they went to the same restaurant, greeting Y/N and some waitresses that they had grown accustomed to. The three sat at their usual table by the corner of the restaurant, Jae and Cherry next to each other while Yuta sat opposite the two.

The youngest giggled when his mom came to their table handing them the menu that they have seen countless times already. “Have you eaten?” Yuta asked that made Y/N nod. “Your medicine?” Again, she nodded with a smile. “I’ll have the vongole pasta.”

“Chicken!” Jae said in a cheerful tone while handing his mom the menu. Yuta even teased him by saying that he’ll grow a wing next time he eats chicken. “Noona, are you going to have the chicken as well?”

Cherry shook her head then closed the menu. “I’ll have the jumbo shrimps.”

Y/N stared at her, taking the menu from her. “You don’t know how to peel shrimps. Do you want me to peel it for you?” But Cherry shook her head. The older pursed her lips and went to the kitchen to get their orders that made Yuta shake his head.

He asked if they have homework but Jae shook his head saying that it's Friday. "But I have a project to do. Can you help me, samchon?" Yuta nodded then he looked at Cherry who was just playing with the napkins on the table.

When their orders came, the youngest guy was too excited to have chicken and Yuta watched as he took a drumstick and started munching on it. Cherry was just looking on the plate of six jumbo shrimps. "Do you need help, Cherry?" He asked and she nodded. He smiled before showing her how to peel the skin of the shrimp using a spoon and fork.

"That's so cool, samchon!" Jae said wide-eyed. "Do you always do that?"

He nodded. "Your mom loves shrimps but she doesn't know how to peel it off so I learned this." Cherry just stared at him. "Try it out, Cherry."

She tried peeling the next jumbo shrimp but accidentally cut it in half that made her annoyed. "It's fine. You're doing well." Yuta complimented. He watched as she focused on the next shrimp, tongue darting out that reminded him so much of Y/N. She usually does it when she's drawing.

The surprised expression was easily seen on her face when she flawlessly skinned one shrimp. "You're good at this, noona." Jae said while munching on his chicken.

Cherry skinned the remaining three, breaking one in half. Yuta was surprised when she put a shrimp on her brother's plate then two shrimps on his plate, leaving the cut shrimps on her plate. Jae complained that he wanted another shrimp and Yuta gave him the other one from his plate. The younger girl put another shrimp on his plate then ate the half from her plate. She's really charming.

Yuta put some of the pasta on one of the small plates and handed it to Cherry to eat. He even scooped some on his fork the feed Jae who exclaimed that he'll order it next time.

After eating, he brought the two of them to a large library that he only searched on the internet. Jae's eyes were twinkling since there's a part in the library where you can play with other kids, as well as read children's books. "We'll do your project, hmm? I will just buy some drinks." Yuta told the younger guy who only nodded. "Cherry, can you come with me?"

She nodded, following him. They exited the children's section then passed the Vendo machines before heading to one room. "The library boasts a bookshelf dedicated to Agatha Christie," Yuta explained then pointed at one shelf. "You finished your book, right? I'll keep Jae company so you can read more." He ruffled her hair but she didn't react. "Read as many as you can. I'll bring you snacks later." She nodded that made him smile.

Yuta just let Cherry on her own while he helped Jae with his drawing. “You know your mom is really good at drawing.” He said absent-mindedly while drawing a small Spiderman on the bottom of the page. Jae looked surprised at the revelation even explaining that he never once saw his mom draw something.

Did she stop drawing illustrations? But she’s studying arts in college. Did she stop? Come to think of it, she stopped saying things about her college life after the fifty-fifth letter. It’s all about Chicago. Did she drop out of college just to be a mom? Maybe she’s taking this dream too hard.

He promised to bring them home before five since Y/N is getting home at four but it's already past six when Yuta realized the time. He had been enjoying his time with Jae, playing and even reading him some books. The younger was the one who told him to go home since he's sleepy.

But he changed when he saw his noona crying. Jae's eyes were wide as he watched the older guy hugging the sobbing girl. "It's already late. Your mom will get worried, Cherry." But she kept crying in his arms, claiming that she doesn't want to go home yet, which made Yuta sigh. She might have enjoyed being here too much. "When I get back from Spain, we'll return here and read all the books here, hmm?" He assured the young girl who was breathing heavily, staring at him with her teary eyes.

When they arrived at her place, Y/N was surprised to see Cherry sleeping on Yuta's shoulder. She pointed to her daughter's room as Jae announced that Cherry cried non-stop in the cab. "That was the first time I saw noona cry, eomma." Yuta smiled hearing those words. Where did she get this tsundere attitude? "Maybe she really liked Yuta samchon." Jae claimed. Does she?

He was supposed to go home when she invited him for dinner. Jae said that he's too sleepy to eat and that he'll just wash up when he wakes up in the morning. Yuta was just chuckling at that when the younger asked to be tucked in by his favorite soccer player. The older nodded, carrying him to his room. "I'm going to miss you, samchon. You promise to call me and tell me about your practices."

He chuckled at that. "Of course, bud. You are my lucky charm." Jae giggled at that. "But you have to promise to eat more and go to school so you can cheer on me better." He nodded. "Take care of eomma and noona while I'm gone, okay?" He lightly rubbed the younger's stomach that made Jae smile then yawned. "Go to sleep, Jae."

Before he could leave the room, Jae wrapped his small arms around Yuta's neck. "Thank you for today, Appa." He said in a sleepy voice before Yuta felt the weight of his head on his shoulder. The older lightly placed him in bed, smiling to himself. Is it possible to feel butterflies in your stomach with just a simple word? Why does he want to keep hearing that word?

Yuta was grinning widely when he left Jae’s room and Y/N was just looking at him weirdly that made him laugh. “Is he asleep?” He nodded, sitting on the chair opposite hers. “Are you going to eat?”

“Yeah. You never cooked for me before. This is my chance.” She giggled at that saying that she made him rice cakes in Osaka before. “That doesn’t count, obaasan helped you.” He thanked her for the food and tried the stew she made, smiling. “It’s pretty decent.”

She revolted with a laugh. “You do know that I hate cooking but I have to learn or the three of us will die.”

“Yeah, you changed so much,” he muttered absent-mindedly. “But in a good way. You’re more responsible now, it’s amazing.” She ate a spoonful of rice, taking time in chewing that simple meal. “You’re doing a great job as a mom. Those two are really charming in their own ways.”

Y/N smiled at that. “They should have met you sooner. Maybe Jae wouldn’t cry over petty reasons and Cherry would learn to smile more. You’re going to be a great dad someday, Yuta.”

A great dad. He wouldn’t even know that he would feel proud at that simple phrase if not for her and her children. Appa. He wanted to be called that word repeatedly. He wanted to spend time with his kids, reading books and playing soccer. He wanted to tuck them to bed at night and wake up with their smiling face. He wanted to eat breakfast with them, bond with them at lunch, and ask for their help in cooking dinner. He wanted to drive them to school and pick them up while sharing stories of what they did the whole day.

He wanted to spend time with his lucky charm and let him cry over petty reasons. He wanted to show the tsundere all the care he can give and let her slowly smile for him. He wanted to do this. For Jae and Cherry. For Y/N.

"I think I just changed my dream." He started that made her look at him curiously, finishing her food. "I want to be a dad." Yuta put down his spoon then stared at her. "I want to be Jae and Cherry's dad."

Her expression varied from surprised to confusion then to worry in a matter of seconds that he wanted to take back what he said. But then, he promised himself that he'll be brave and do this without any regrets. "Honestly, I feel like everyone already knows my feelings." He laughed to shake away the nervousness he's feeling. "Even Cherry knows about it."

"I'm in love with you." He confessed that made her stop. "I guess I have been since middle school, I just refuse to believe it. When you went to Osaka, that's when I'm sure that I truly am in love with you."

"Osaka? That long?" She asked quietly and he nodded. "So you knew when you went to Chicago?"

Yuta laughed at the memory. "I do want to punch Johnny's face but he's so nice. And you seem really happy while looking at him." He smiled bitterly. "I figured I should let you go since you're happier with him so I asked my parents if I could go to Spain to train soccer. To forget about you at least."

He held her hand that was on top of the table. "I never thought I would meet you again at Taeyong's wedding. Then this." He gestured to the two rooms where her children are at. "I want this, Y/N. This is what I wanted to be, a dad."

Y/N slipped her hand away from him, "Don't, Yuta." She whispered and his face fell. He never thought about this rejection. "You have to date a single girl and have kids of your own, not like this."

"How can I do that when all I can see is you?" Yuta shook his head. This is a hopeless conversation but he doesn't want to give up. “You said I'll be a great dad. Why can't I be your children's dad?"

"Because Johnny is their dad."

Yuta sighed. "I'm not planning to replace Johnny in their life. I just wanted to take care of them and give them my love." He explained. "Y/N, I love both Jae and Cherry, that's why I'm doing this. I honestly don't think I can ever love someone the way I love the three of you." He stood up. "Thank you for the meal. I'll clean the dishes."

"Yuta…" she called, following him to the kitchen with her empty plate.

He smiled at her, taking her plate then putting it on the sink. "Let's talk about this when I go back from Spain. Think about it and I'll ponder about it as well." Y/N sighed. "If you don't want to, I won't force you. Just remember that I'm here for the two of them, for you."

Yuta sighed while cleaning the plates. He doesn't need to think about this. He knew he wanted this. All he had to think about is when she says no to everything.

��🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Seven

#yuta nakamoto #yuta #yuta nakamoto fluff #yuta fluff #yuta chaptered au #nakamoto yuta #nakamoto yuta fluff

92 notes · View notes