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f1version · 3 months

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DATES WITH YOU ♥︎ F1 HEADCANONS

includes: charles, carlos, max, daniel, lando, oscar, lewis, george, alex, logan, pierre, yuki, lance, mick, and sebastian.

summary: f1 drivers’ and their favorite themed dates!

author’s note: happy valentine’s day my loves!! this is incredibly late (almost 15th where i am) but here it is <3

love on top, a vday special ♥︎ general masterlist

now playing ♫₊⊹ until i found you by stephen sanchez

★ CHARLES LECLERC ( 16 ) — Charles has a bucket list with dates. Enjoys planning them curled up in bed, talks about how you shouldn’t repeat one until the list is done—unless you are a Drive-in theater date, he loves them. When they're arranged in Monaco, it's usually for old romcoms and coming-of-age movies, which is perfect in both of your eyes. Charles makes sure to bring snacks, blankets and pillows, everything so you can be comfortable while cuddling him. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as the movie plays, dusk falling over you, looking as beautiful as ever. He loves this type of dates… it even gives him a chance to show off his magnificent car, but hey! that's off-topic.

★ CARLOS SAINZ JR. ( 55 ) — You and Carlos have a passion for trying new recipes, so sometimes, when you have everything you need, you decide to put on matching aprons, as well as toques, and start working on your next masterpiece. Usually, old Spanish songs play in the background, Carlos singing, grabbing you by the waist to distract you and dance a little. He loves days like these, your focused face and little scoldings are all he needs, especially because one way or another, you will end up laughing and dancing with him, sometimes full of flour and seasonings, the kitchen wearing its best perfume.

★ MAX VERSTAPPEN ( 1 ) — Max is always looking for ways to impress you, to catch you off guard and surprise you, he loves how you tease him about it. So that's why, when you go to one of your favorite places ever —the planetarium— as a date, he recollects as many details about the celestial objects as he can, waiting for your surprise when he drops a fact you didn't know he knew, starting a long, beautiful conversation about it. You know a lot more than him, but he's eager to learn, loves the way you explain every single thing to him, loves the way places like this brings you closer.

★ DANIEL RICCIARDO ( 3 ) — Daniel loves music, he spends hours on end with his headphones on, discovering new artists every day, sharing his songs, albums, and artists of the month with you, adding to his playlists your recommendations. So it's no surprise you find yourself going to multiple concerts. Dancing and singing, hugging and fangirling. Sometimes artists know Daniel and that's when you laugh the most because there's always a chance of him ending up on stage, singing to you (or trying to).

★ LANDO NORRIS ( 4 ) — Lando loves your creativity, he’s a fan of getting to know what's on your pretty mind and seeing your ideas come to life, he also loves sharing his own ideas with you, feels free doing so. His favorite dates with you consist of this: having a canvas, paper, or even pottery to paint on, gossiping and laughing for hours, having picnics and enjoying food. Lando would buy hundreds of utensils, wanting to try everything with you, forever. PD: He would have you paint him and his car, probably.

★ OSCAR PIASTRI ( 81 ) — It didn't start as a date per se, Oscar just couldn't sleep one night and you suggested building the Lego Star Wars ship in your closet, so you stayed up until 6 in the morning building it. He loves the tranquility it brings, how you can go from discussing the deepest topics to a comfortable silence. Focuses on the little things, like when your fingers brush his while reaching for a piece or that little celebration when you find another. In his apartment, he has a shelf dedicated to the Legos you've built together and photos to go with it. So, in Oscar's humble opinion, these are the best dates in the world.

★ LEWIS HAMILTON ( 44 ) — You and Lewis can live off two things: Roscoe and the beach. Surfing is something you have always bonded over, that's why you love heading to the beach early morning, going for a run with Roscoe, and then jumping to surf (taking Roscoe back inside first). You can stay out there for hours, challenging each other, improving your skills, and lying on your boards, talking about everything and nothing, loving every second of it.

★ GEORGE RUSSELL ( 63 ) — While experimenting with extreme sports would be a lovely date for George, he chooses to call his favorite something more domestic: comfy clothes, a good bottle of wine, and a long puzzle night ahead of you. He enjoys the challenging but relaxing parts of the activity, loves to strategize alongside you, and loses his focus when looking at you, falling deeper in love.

★ ALEX ALBON ( 23 ) — Playing Mario Kart as if your life depended on winning has always been part of your relationship — "It's our love language," Alex says— That's why you love to spend a large amount of time (and money) in arcades. You play against each other, with and without; also spend forty minutes trying to catch that one stuffed animal from the claw machine, cheering (and almost getting kicked out) when you get it. Alex loves it as much as he loves you.

★ LOGAN SARGEANT ( 2 ) — Logan fully believes that the best date in the history of dating are theme and amusement park dates. Whether it's a local funfair or the (in)famous Florida parks, Logan loves walking hand in hand, map and snacks in the other, trying to go on as many attractions as possible, calming the nerves of each other when necessary, laughing at the photos quickly taken on the rollercoasters (and going again to attempt looking good), and many other things that make this type of date his favorite.

★ PIERRE GASLY ( 10 ) — Pierre loves chaos and what's more chaotic than doing karaoke? Your catalog goes from High School Musical's "Gotta Go My Own Way" to Gaye and Terrell's "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." Sometimes they end up drunk enough (from adrenaline, from love, or both) to sing French songs and attempt Celine Dion's highest notes. You can spend hours teasing each other, dancing to the rhythm, and sneaking kisses in between songs.

★ YUKI TSUNODA ( 22 ) — Contrary to popular belief, Yuki's favorite type of date isn't taking you to a restaurant or cooking together, because even though he does love doing those things with you, your trips to farmers markets are his favorite. When the season is right, you visit them hand-in-hand, no matter the country since there is nothing better than discovering new foods with your favorite person. And hey! If there is something to eat, why not mix dates?

★ LANCE STROLL ( 18 ) — No matter the weather or season, you and Lance will always be up for an ice cream date. You're on a quest to find the best flavors, and the fact that some dates end in small big disasters is enough to keep you searching together, chins full of ice cream and all.

★ MICK SCHUMACHER ( 47 ) — Two things about Mick: he really enjoys ice skating and he loves you. If you put them together, he's guaranteed to have the time of his life, so he's lucky you like ice skating as much as he does. You both spend hours on the rink, being careful not to fall while holding hands, yet most of the time it's Mick who ends up in the floor as you drown in laughter. He loves that sound. He loves making you laugh and smile, it's his favorite pastime, and seeing you shine on the ice rink makes him realize how much he adores this place.

★ SEBASTIAN VETTEL ( 5 ) — Seb’s favorite is going hiking and then camping with you in the beautiful Swiss mountains, away from the a much hectic side of life. Just you and him giving new meaning to the known, sharing not only the beauty of life but also the comfort of one another, wrapped around small info-dumps and timeless laughter. It’s therapeutic being so close to each other, so pure and loving. If you ask him, he would repeat this date a thousand times over.

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kiestrokes · 8 months

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You should have seen this coming

I need to know your thoughts on all on Ateez’s sex styles

ATEEZ and their Sex Styles | NSFW

Pairing: ATEEZ x Reader/You/Yn (vagina pov) Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Genre: headcanon, imagine, smut. Warnings: aftercare mentioned in some portions, cuddling, kissing.

Sexually Explicit Content: sex positions, rough sex, choking, marking, biting, pain kink, stone top, pillow princess, cum/semen, orgasms?

🗝️ Note: oh luce...are you prepared for this? this is quick run through, and I don't have my glasses on- so feel free to kindly point out any spelling or big grammatical errors. this is my own opinion, don't take it too serious.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted here.

Park Seonghwa hmmm Hwa, this man likes things deep and slow, lots of kissing and biting going on before he quite literally dives in. He is the opposite of HJ, eye contact is what really gets him off. He wants to watch you fall apart and quickly follows you. Hwa's aftercare is showering together, so that he can ensure you both are clean for post sex snuggles and lego building.

Kim Hongjoong I have never met a scorpio that has the ability to stay in a minimum of two positions, it’s always 2++. HJ is great at foreplay; he's observed your body and gets you so keyed up in foreplay that you almost cum. But when it comes to actual sex, he's all over the place. Gets you is missionary first, but it's too intimate for his aromantic ass, puts your legs around his neck and focuses on your body, then he pulls a leg over so you're halfway into doggystyle and eventually you're on your stomach getting your shit wrecked. I don't think this man can cum if you're making eye contact.

Jeong Yunho hear me out- he looks incredibly unassuming, and Yunho is more of a cuddler than a fucker. But when he does, he performs. You're having at least two orgasms and begging him to cum already. He loves to fuck you in spoon, and gives you double stim on the clit, that has even the quietest person screaming. Arguably the best sex you have ever had and he's v humble about it.

Kang Yeosang this bitch...he manhandles you left and right. up against the wall, picking you up in bed, to um- slow it down and make it bouncy. He isn't much for kissing. But is the king of aftercare and loves to cuddle afterwards. Kind of oblivious to when you orgasm though, he accidentally fucks you into another- or three.

Choi San he is the opposite of Jongho, a stone top. your pleasure means more to him than his own. his favorite position is cowgirl, wants you facing him, admiring all his muscles and sneaking in little kisses. he might also have a mild neck kink, not quite choking but his hand is always there. so sorry but San immediately falls asleep after you fuck (re drunkteez).

Song Mingi ohhh Mingi...leo men don't come to fuck around (well they do. but you'll understand in a minute) similar to Yeo and Yunho he wants you to cum first. he likes to think his favorite position is doggy, but this man falls apart in missionary. it's the eye contact, the kissing, the biting, the hair pulling, how your legs wrap around and pull him in like you just can't get enough. man is gone. he also doesn't like cumming inside you, he wants to cum on your thighs or your stomach or your tits. to show you what you did to him. Mingi's aftercare is lots of food, he needs to eat and he wants you to eat with him, then cuddle up in bed and hold you like a little burrito (re sangi live)

Jung Wooyoung I saved this bitch for last, Woo likes it the roughest...even if I think HJ is the one with the pain kink. Woo wants you to be aggressive passionate with him, wants your hand on his throat, clenching his jaw, nails in his back. is kissing you non-stop, you cannot breathe between the thrusting and him literally stealing the air from your lungs in each kiss. tbh I think Woo prefers to give you oral and maybe receive oral over everything. but those little hips of his know how to work out the most intense orgasms.

Choi Jongho ok...sooo, Jongho and my libra bestie were both born on October 12th. I'm going to use a lot of what I know about her- is secretly incredibly kinky, willing to try anything once. He is a pillow princess, loves skinship but only when he initiates it, prefers to see a lot of his partner's skin. drops a ton of affectionate touches but screams he was just joking when you drag him off to the bedroom. he is the most vocal of all the members, literally singing his praises.

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peanutbutterand · 22 days

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this is how you fall in love; hhj

word count: 986

a one shot inspired by the song "this is how you fall in love" by jeremy zucker and chelsea cutler bc its so soft and bestfriend hyunjin concept eats it up (in my humble opinion)

“How do people do it?”

“What do you mean?”

Hyunjin focused in on your softly perplexed expression, a chuckle falling from his lips at the sight of your stare fixated onto the long awaited kiss being shared by the leading characters.

The entertainment he found in your distracted state soon craved your attention, waving his hand in front of your face just as the rolling credits came in.

Faintly smiling at the blank screen, you turned to look at your best friend who displayed confusion and concern in his expression.

“I was just wondering how people do it?”

Hyunjin moved his body closer, head leaning in as if to motion for you to continue your thought.

“Fall in love I mean.”

In an instant, you fell towards the back of the couch, the pillow that was once on Hyunjin lap now falling onto yours.

“Hwang Hyunjin, what the actual fuc-”

“Y/n its a fucking movie! They are acting sweetheart and you really made me miss the last scene!”

Letting out a sharp breath, you stuck your tongue out and slightly nudged the side of his stomach with your elbow, causing him to flinch away with a giggle.

“I’m not talking about the movie stupid. I just mean in general, it’s a genuine question, the movie just prompted my thoughts.”

You moved towards Hyunjin, closing the minimal space between the two of you, settling closely beside him as you readily waited for his response. Tilting his head, he lifted his fingers to fix the hair on the top of your head that had been messily misplaced by his pillow throwing. The both of you paused before bursting out into giggles.

It’s not like you were completely oblivious to the many answers that existed for your question.

Some say, people fall in love with what makes up a person: how they laugh, what makes them cry, how they like their coffee, etc. Some say falling in love requires the essence of time and self discovery. Some say falling in love is like jumping off a cliff, only hoping that you’ll land safely in their arms. And some say, falling in love is nothing but a series of chemical reactions occurring in the brain.

Nonetheless, everyone arrives at an answer sooner or later in their life. So, it’s always good to talk to people, gain their perspective on the little things in life, like love.

And Hyunjin was the one person whom you turned to when it came to talking about those little things. You raised your finger towards Hyunjin's cheek, softly poking it as he kept his eyes on you, lips in a tight line while he remained silent.

“I guess you don’t have an answer yet either.”

His shoulders lifted as he gave you a shrug while he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Music began to fill the air as the beat resonated in your mind. Your body began to respond, standing up as you pulled off the most ridiculous of moves that were a stark contrast to the song playing.

Hyunjin brought his hand over his mouth, stifling giggles at your unrhythmic dancing that seemed to always be one second behind the beat of the song. The sight of his crinkled eyes only encouraged your tasteful movements. Before you were able to continue your shenaniganz, the music had suddenly come to a stop.

You sent a glare towards him while he held his stomach from laughter obviously putting a pause to the music. Before you could protest, a soft melody eased your frown. You glanced at Hyunjin, immediately catching his eyes. A breath hitched in your throat the longer you stared. For the look reflected in his orbs was soft and endearing.

With a small smile, Hyunjin stood from the couch and made his way towards you, body slowly swaying left to right. You mirrored his movements, closing your eyes as you let the tune take hold of your body as the lyrics fill your mind. Just as the chorus had started, you found yourself opening your eyes in response to the sudden warmth placed on both sides of your face.

Hyunjin's face was only a few inches from your own, but the both of you remained still, bodies lingering in the short distance. You said nothing as his hands fell from your face, to your shoulders, and soon down your arms. The comfort of his fingers provided heat to your still state.

His hands landed into your own, fingers playing with each other as he raised your hands towards his shoulders, putting them in place. The eye contact between the two of you brought heat to your cheeks and emphasized the pounding in your chest.

Your chest slowly raised as he placed his hands on your waist, his fingers moulding into your skin and softly pulling your body towards his.

“Close your eyes.”

You pursed your lips as he flashed you a small smile, closing his eyes, only leading you to follow his request. He leaned forward, setting his forehead on yours. His soft breathing fawning over your skin, a type of warmth you quickly grew fond of.

The urge to never let him go grew with the intimacy flowing between the both of you, bodies intertwined as your feelings ached to do the same. Your bodies swayed side to side, falling into the soft melody, falling into him. As if he were holding you up, ready to catch you.

“I think this is how you do it Y/n.”

The light met your eyes before you settled on his face. His soft and kind and endearing face.

“What do you mean?”

His eyes. Those deep brown eyes. They always calmed you down. Holding a sense of passion as they traced your features, delicately framing you in his mind.

“This is how you fall in love.”

#skz imagine #skz #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyujin imagines #hyunjin x reader #skz x you #skz fanfiction #soft hours #softhyunjin #straykids #lee know x reader #bangchan x reader #lee know #bang chan #skz scenarios #skz imagines

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aelenavelaryon · 5 months

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Aegon Targaryen x Reader (Visenya, Rhaenys x Reader)

Summary: 𝘐𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥

Alyssa Stark didn't trust the new self proclaimed king and queens of Westeros. Specially not Aegon. She hated the way he believed himself above anyone else because he rode a dragon. Aegon didn't like Alyssa Stark either, she was too entitled in his opinion. She was polite with him and his sister and never spoke ill about him and his sisters. Not behind them nor with anyone but he knew she did not like him. He could tell.

Now, he didn't really know her, not had he never met her. It could be said the same about Alyssa. How could he know she was like then? And how could she know what he was like? A few lords had said that she would walk away at any given mention of him or his sisters. Aegon thought it might be the fact that she had to become a lady instead of a princess or queen in the future but Alyssa didn't care about status or crowns, she grew up to be a humble woman, perhaps her brothers were not but she was. She was loved by the rich and the poor all the same.

The only daughter of Torrhen Stark, the king who knelt. The young girl had been proud of her father for kneeling instead of endangering their people. She was only eight when it happened. It had been nearly seven years of Aegon's conquest and seven years of being king of the Seven Kingdoms. And she hadn't heard of him. Until he decided he wanted to visit the North, to finally see it for himself. By then, Rhaenys was with child. The first heir of the new king and queen. Visenya had chosen to accompany her brother.

King Torrhen and his family waited for the king. Lady Alyssa was sword training and simply lost track of time. Her mother, was not so pleased as she had explained to the king and queen that their stubborned daughter liked to train with a sword and often looses track of time. And it was no lie.

By the time she realized it was time for the feast, the feast was in full swing. Aegon had never met her, he had only heard that she was a quiet the beauty for a Northern girl. But, as soon as he laid eyes on her it was like falling in love for the first time. Aegon never loved his sisters. He married Visenya out of duty and Rhaneys out of desire. She had this strong beauty to her. It was entrancing, even Visenya would admit she was the prettiest girl she had ever seen. Or rather woman.

Her brother met her half way, explaining the introductions and welcome to her. She made it to the king and queens table. "My king, my queen" she said with a graceful curtsy and a soft voice. "I apologize for not being at your welcoming party. When I train I seem to loose track of time. I hope you take no ill meaning to me not being there" time had passed and she was over the whole conqueror thing and hating Aegon. She had come to the conclusion that this was for the best somehow some way.

The king nodded, being too stunned to speak. Orys, his brother eyed her, she was a pretty little thing. Unmarried too. He could ask for her hand in marriage. Visenya excused the girl who left with a nod. An hour into the celebration, a young lord from the North gave the girl a crown of blue roses. Her favorite. Visenya watched as her brother's eyes followed the girl all night. He watched her laugh, talk and smile. And she had managed to look graceful and more beautiful as she did it.

Alyssa made it over the kings table. Visenya thought she was coming to flirt with her brother as any other noble lady did as he was the king but, to her surprise she came for her. "Will the queen allow me a dance?" she asked stretching out her hand. Visneya was shocked, no one really paid her any attention. Aegon himself was shocked but he was more shocked as her sister smiled and took her hand.

The song was slow at first but as the second passed it became clearer they had to move. Visneya followed her steps and began to dance, allowing her feet to lead her. Most of the night Visenya was sat but near the end, lady Alyssa made sure the queen was sore the next day from all the dancing.

As the days passed, Alyssa and Visneya became friends. Alyssa liked to think they were. Even if it was a small bit of friendship. Visenya was amazed by Alyssa's skills with a sword. And that, made them closer. As her time to retuned to King's Landing neared, Visenya became sad, she was about to leave the only friend she had behind. Orys, had the idea to take her back to King's Landing and have her as a lady in waiting.

Soon enough, the Northern girl bid her goodbye and left for King's Landing. Visenya felt like she had a friend but as always, Rhaneys wanted Alyssa all for herself. Alyssa liked Rhaenys but not as much as Visenya. After helping Rhaenys she would go and find Visenya the two would train and gossip about the latest gossip of the capital. Visenya became pregnant a year after Rhaenys and Alyssa stood by her side every step of the way, she even protected her when assassins tried to kill her, risking her own life to save her queen.

Aegon's infatuation grew since. It was like a magnet. Visenya and Rhaenys watched it happen. Aegon tried everything to woo the girl who always rejected him in a kindly manner. "My king, please. I just wish for you to leave me alone. I am loyal to my friends. Queen Visenya and Queen Rhaenys" she said as the king had corner her once again. He moved out the way, letting her walk by. Visenya, like Rhaenys gave birth to a boy. And to her fear the maester claimed her unable to bear another child, just like Rhaenys. Visenya cried in Alyssa's arms as Rhaenys had done the year before.

Aegon knew he had to take a new wife. He needed daughters and what better match than Alyssa. The letter reached her father who agreed. Who was he to deny the king? No one. Visenya was angry at her brother but then, she realized this was a good idea. Alyssa would never have to go home and marry a lord who would've taken far away from her. Alyssa herself was angry and shocked at the same time. Why were the Gods so cruel? Why her? Visenya and Rhaenys explained the good outcome. They would never have to be separated ever again. She was ten and six when she married Aegon in the year eight. Then, a year later, she gave birth to a son. Aerion.

Not soon after she gave birth again. This time, a girl. Aegon Targaryen wept tears of joy as did his sisters. Valaena Targaryen, future queen of the seven kingdoms. In the year twelve she gave birth again, this time twins. Lyanna and Lysanne Targaryen future wives or Maegor and Aerion. In the year fifteen her last children were born, Daemion and Dyanna.

Aegon watched from his balcony. He knew his wives loved him but a part of him knew neither Visenya nor Rhaenys would ever love him as much as they loved Alyssa. Alyssa Stark had been a blessing in disguise. She came into their lives at the right time. Rhaenys and Visenya would often say they would have not survive without her. She made sure they made it after knowing they would never have any more children.

Aegon was content that she gave him the children he wanted. The family he always wanted. Rhaenys sat with Visenya as the two watched the children. Aenys was ten, Maegor nine, Aerion eight, Valaena seven, Lyanna and Lysanne five, Daemion and Dyanna two.

Alyssa gave him six children. Four of them daughters. And the king loved his sweet girls so much. As much as he loved their mother. As he watched he felt a pair of arms wrap around him. "What does my king think about?" Alyssa asked. "About how much he loves you. About how much he loves his children. His sisters" he replied as he pulled her in for a hug. "They love you as well" she replied as she laid her head on his chest.

Visenya and Rhaneys looked their way and smiled at them. He knew Alyssa didn't just warm his bed but his sisters too. He didn't care though, she made them happy. The three of them. She didn't just gave him the daughters he always wanted and more. She gave his family the life they all needed to truly be happy. The Targaryen siblings had never known this much peace. And, Alyssa Targaryen brought Dorne to King's Landing. Stating that one of her children's children would marry the heir of Dorne to create and alliance, giving Dorne what they merely wanted. Peace.

#daemon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #helaena targaryen x reader #harwin strong x reader #game of thrones x reader

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mediumgayitalian · 22 days

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part one

———

Finding parking is, as expected, hard, largely in part because Michael wants to get them all killed.

“— yeah, that’s right, shitwad! Back off! We were here —”

“Will you please shut the fuck up,” Lee hisses, jamming the switch for Michael’s window. Unfortunately, Michael is sticking his fucking head out of it, so it won’t close.

“This fucking guy! This fucking guy thinks he can swoop up to our spot —”

“Motherfucker we’re in Wilmington, do you want to get fucking shot —”

“He can wait his godsdamn turn like everybody else! Hey, fucker —”

He succeeds, finally, in yanking his brother back in by the scruff of his neck and speeding away from the shitwad in question.

“I can’t believe you let him walk all over us!”

“If I end up with a bullet hole through my windshield, I am kicking your ass, Michael. I won’t need to worry about some trigger happy mortal taking you out. I’ll kill you.”

“Drama queen. Now we’re never gonna find a damn spot.”

They do, in fact, find a damn spot. Within forty-three seconds of Michael saying that, actually, Will points out not just a parking spot but a pull-through, which Lee takes, smirking. Michael aims a kick for his knee.

“Go help Will unbuckle, you bitter bitch. I gotta grab something.”

Ignoring both Michael’s grumbling and Will’s insistence that he can unbuckle himself, thank you very much, Lee jogs over to the trunk. He grabs his and Michael’s bows, just in case, and carefully grabs the bundle of roses he bought from the stand across from his apartment. The stems are a little crushed, but the flowers all seem fine, full and bright, sunny yellow. Even the paper is relatively uncrinkled, folding delicately around the thorny leaves.

Michael nods when he sees them. “Nice.”

“Thanks.” Lee tosses him his bow, slinging his own over his back. It flickers with his quiver under the Mist, settling eventually to look like a small backpack. “Got ‘em this morning.”

“Can I hold them?” Will asks.

“Sure, kiddo.”

He lays them gently in his arms, the same way Cass has taught him to bundle herbs and plants when they gather for poultices. Every step is suddenly much more deliberate, avoiding potholes and cracks in the pavement so he doesn’t trip and crush them under his body. When he nearly walks in front of a car, not paying attention, Michael plants a hand on his head, guiding him around like a claw machine.

“Okay,” Lee says, holding open the door. “Let’s find Diana.”

The lobby is crowded. There are people everywhere — families, grandparents, and of course dozens of dancers, shining hair pieces glinting in the low lights, tutus and rhinestones peeking out of studio sweatsuits. Faces heavy with stage makeup bleed into each other. The building is abuzz with sound, chatter and laughter and shouting and twenty different songs playing at once. Lee can hardly believe they’re all fitting in the same building, and almost convinces himself it’s actually enchanted, smaller on the outside. He glances down when Will backs into him, flowers clutched tighter to his chest, and rests a firm hand on his shoulder. He hooks his finger around Michael’s hoodie, too, and for once he doesn’t complain.

“You see her?” he shouts over the noise. Or, well, Lee’s pretty sure that’s what he said. He shakes his head, anyway, and Michael scowls, standing uselessly on his tiptoes. Even if that didn’t put him just barely over most people’s shoulders, the throng of people is too thick to see much. People elbow and push each other around to meet up with family members, and groups of dancers do their best to practice their routines in what limited space is available. Lee has felt less claustrophobic in Times Square at Christmas.

In a stroke of brilliance, in his very humble opinion, he lets go of Will’s shoulder, puts both hands under his arms, and hauls him over his head, settling him on his shoulders.

“Keep an eye out,” he shouts.

Will grins, tugging on Lee’s hair with his free hand in confirmation.

One hand clamped over Will’s knees, the other still hooked on Michael’s hoodie, Lee starts to wade through the crowd. He can start to see, as he gets farther from the door, the entrance to the stage, the ticket stands, the coat check. Several banners hang temporarily from the ceiling and stick to doorways, welcoming them all to the Twenty-Sixth Annual Believe Dance Comp!, and a table laden with trophies sits proudly by the stage doors.

Sitting under one of the banners, Lee notices a group of girls of varying ages, all wearing the green and purple Stage Lights Dance Academy Cass sometimes wears. He guides them closer, scanning each stage makeup-ed face to try and find his sister, but stops short before he gets too close.

Two girls, sitting at the head of the group, mime twisting their hair, exaggeratedly anxious looks on their faces. The rest of the girls roar with laughter.

Lee feels something heavy settle in his stomach.

“You think anyone will come for her?” a younger girl asks, hushed so that Lee can barely hear her over the crowd.

One of the older girls snorts. “Are you kidding? The only way her mom will come is if there’s an open bar!”

Lee is reminded of the one and only time he’d fought a group of empousai. There’d been a trio of them a Central Park, on a field trip he’d gone on with his ninth grade class, surrounding one of the oak dryads. They’d crooned at her, tugging on her leafy hair and trailing clawed fingers down her handmade dress, calling out backhanded compliments. But Lee’s skin felt like it was crawling, he remembers, and the dryad had been tense, green tears building in her eyes. Every bleat of their laughter had grated his ears, and he’d snapped, eventually, ripping off his bow and picking them off one by one. The third one had seen him, chasing him away from his group, but he’d been so mad that he wasn’t even scared. The dryad hadn’t done anything. They got nothing from poking at her. They’d just done it to be cruel, because it was fun for them.

“I don’t even know why she has the gall to show up. She missed the final practice.”

“Miss Breanna likes her, that’s why,” one of the girls scoffs. “Of course she can skiff off practice and still compete. She thinks she’s so much better than us.”

Michael shifts forward. Lee throws out an arm to stop him, shooting him a warning look.

“You think anyone’ll take your side?” he murmurs.

“They’re talking about —!”

“I know, Michael.”

“They can’t talk about her like that!”

“I know, Michael.” He forces his jaw to unclench. “I know.”

“Yeah, well, favourite or not,” another dancer says wickedly, “her seats will be empty again. And she’ll walk out empty-handed and alone, like she always does.”

Most of the adults milling about the lobby hold flowers, like they do. Except unlike them, their bouquets are large, unlike them the stems are not crushed, unlike them they are wrapped in ribbons, in embroidered banners. One is, even, shaped as a ballet slipper, and Lee notices the oldest girl in the group, the one who made the joke about Cass’s mother, eyeing it, smirking.

He pictures Cass holding it next to all the other girls from her studio. With their big, normal families, their wide smiles, their fancy cameras, their beautiful, expensive bouquets. Pictures the smirks that will be sent her way, the whispers. They can’t — gods, what was he thinking?

“What time is it?” he asks.

Michael glances at his watch. “Quarter to.”

“Hm.”

In her frantic IM, yesterday, Diana had ordered them to be here by noon. From what little he knows about dance competitions, Cass’s performance will be sometime after that, nestled among the many. When exactly, he doesn’t know.

If they leave now, wagering, they could miss it. And that would be the worst thing of them all. But…

“Will,” he says, suddenly getting an idea. “C’mere.”

He reaches up and sets Will back on the ground, clutching his hand as he weaves through the crowd, beelining for the far corner. He stops at a sign with a little stick person on it, gently taking the flowers from Will’s hold and passing them back to Michael.

“Listen to me carefully.” He crouches to Will’s level, meeting his eyes. “Diana is — somewhere, in there, getting Cass ready. Michael and I can’t go in there. We need you to go in and act really confused.”

“That will be very easy, because I am confused,” Will protests. “Why do I have to go in there? I don’t even really know why we’re here!”

“Just — go in,” Lee insists. “Trust me. If I give you more instructions, it’ll ruin it.”

Huffing, Will goes.

“Brilliant,” Michael mutters. “Lose the kid and Diana. Great plan, Lee.”

“Come on, does no one trust me?”

“No one knows what you’re doing, dude! You hang around Carter for five minutes and suddenly you think you’re Mr. Plan Guy —”

Lee flushes. “That is not what this is about!”

“I am not missing this! I swear Lee, if we’re late —”

“We’re not gonna be late!”

“Why is it that every boy on Earth is actually stupid,” hisses a new voice. The change room door busts open, damn near cracking under the heel of a heavy boot, and Diana comes striding out behind it, Will perched on her hip. Her short dark hair sticks out in every which way, shoulders tense as a line, mouth twisted in a scowl. Immediately, Lee and Michael snap their mouths shut.

“Hey,” Will complains, pouting.

She adjusts her hold on him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not you, sweetpea. Only Thing One and Thing Two, over here.” She glares at them. “Why did I find him wandering around in the change room? I told you to wait for me in the lobby! I swear you two want to — ruin this!”

“Hey,” Lee says, flinching back. “You know we don’t, Diana. That’s not fair.”

She scrubs a hand down her face, sighing. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. It’s just —” She presses another kiss to Will’s cheek and sets him down, leaning on the doorframe. “It’s been a rough morning. She keeps trying to call her mom, and — well.”

Lee hates that those girls were right. He hates it. He hates that they’ve been right before, that Cass has walked off the stage, face blank, alone. Hearing their giggling, probably. Twisting her hair around her fingers as she tries to hold it together.

His jaw tightens.

Not this fucking time.

“What time is Cass on?” he asks

“…Her solo at one-thirty,” Diana says. “But —”

“Great.” Lee grabs each brother’s shoulder, pulling them back. “We won’t be late, Diana, I promise.”

“Wait! Lee — dude, what are you —”

“We’ll meet you inside! Save us seats!”

“Lee! Get back here!”

“Seats!” Lee calls, glancing back. He makes a vague gesture in return to her incredulous, spread-wide hands, trying to convey the Situation. “We won’t be late! Promise!”

“I’ll kill you if you are!” she relents. “Be fucking back on time!”

———

In hindsight, it would have been smarter to take the car.

For whatever reason, both Lee and Michael assumed there would be a flower stand just outside the theatre. Neither of them had seen one on the way in, but it made sense. If Lee had a flower business, he’d probably put it next to a theatre. Where else would you put it?

Regardless, there isn’t anything close across the street, or even on the whole block. Will sits on his shoulders again, because it’s easier than trying to guide him, and every so often he glances at the watch Beckendorf made him, calling out the time.

“Will,” Lee begs, veering around a street corner, “you are not helping.”

“I am so!” He checks his watch again. “Twenty-seven minutes ‘til Cass starts. That’s why we’re here, right? To watch Cass dance?”

“So long as we make it in time,” Michael stresses. “Shit, Lee, maybe we should just head back. The flowers we have are fine —”

“Cass deserves more than fine.”

Michael snaps his mouth shut. “I know that.”

Lee slumps. “I — know you know. Sorry.”

Their steps fall in synch, footsteps making level prints in the light dusting of snow. On occasion a passing car drowns them out, but for the most part the only sound is their breathing, and Will picking at his nails. The shifting of their jackets.

“You’ll never undo it, Lee.” The road cross button makes a heavy click noise under Michael’s fist. The countdown for the walking man is loud, four, three, two, one. Three of the little lights are broken, making it look like its chest is cracked open. “There’s some shit you just can’t fix.”

“I’m not trying to — fix her,” he argues weakly. “I’m just…”

He can’t push away the horrible ache in his chest. The rapidly expanding feeling, the sinking chasm of expecting and hoping and being disappointed. Of looking out into the crowd to find a familiar face and not finding one. Of hearing giggles as you walk past and clenching your teeth, knowing. It balloons, pushing out on his ribcage, forcing its way up his throat.

Michael stops, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed. Lee stares at a spot at the air above his shoulder, swallowing roughly, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood.

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, Lee. You think competing with those assholes is gonna — go back? Gonna magically bring her fucking — hell, bring Dad?”

Lee looks away. “Of course not.”

“We’re going to be there. That’s what matters, isn’t it? That’s what’s really important.”

“Oh, to hell with high horses, Michael. I’m fucking tired of — of pretending it’s okay!” He starts forward again, ignoring the twinge of pain in his skull when Will grips his hair, yelping at the sudden surge forward. Michael jogs to keep up. “It’s — fight these monsters, train these kids, lead your cabin. Ignore the fact that your dad couldn’t be assed to visit a few times a year, he’s an Olympian, after all, you understand. Well, I’m tired of it! I’m tired of —” he trips over a crack in the sidewalk, barely catching himself — “I’m tired of being so damn understanding!”

For a moment Michael says nothing. Lee’s breathing is heavy, shakey, and it takes effort to still the tremble in his hands.

“The girl,” Michael says eventually. “The prissy one, who sat closer to the door.”

“…What about her?”

“I just.” He chews at his bottom lip. “I’m not saying I disagree with you, dude, but you have issues, dude, and shit you need to work out. For real. Besides just —” he gestures broadly at the mostly empty street — “ranting into the air.” Slowly, a smirk spreads across his face. “It would be really, really funny to see her face if Cass walks out with a bouquet three times the size of hers, wouldn’t it.”

Lee matches his grin. “It would be.”

“Betcha she’d seethe.”

“Probably turn purple.”

They turn to each other, finally back in synch.

“Nineteen minutes,” Will pipes up.

Lee startles. He checks his own watch. “Oh, shit. Let’s go.”

———

part three

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inoreuct · 7 months

Note

Since it’s spooky season, may I request a demon Sanji offering Zoro some food?

i was supposed to post this for friday the 13th, but it got way more dramatic than i planned… thank you for the ask!

Y’know, when Sanji became a demon, he hadn’t expected to have to deal with moss infestations.

He is aware that that sounds rather ridiculous and makes little to no sense. The long and short of it is, he got himself cursed. Dumb, yes, he’s aware of that too, but how was he supposed to have known that the rare herb garden he’d stepped into was guarded by a territorial (and rather unhinged, in his humble opinion) occultist?

But as far as curses go, this one really isn’t so bad. Sanji had just sort of… accepted it, after a while, and it certainly hadn’t hurt that the whole becoming a demon gig came with its own massive underworld castle filled with invisible servants. He shudders, peering into a mirror and brushing an invisible speck of dust from his horns. He could have been turned into a goat, or something. How the hell would he cook if he was a goat?

Back to the topic at hand, he has a visitor. A human, of all things! Wandering about the underworld! Sanji’s scrying bowl had offered him a view of short green hair and three swords hanging from a belt, and honestly? He doesn’t know what to make of it, and now the man is hovering in his entryway, poking at a 6th century vase that Sanji is fairly sure holds some Roman emperor’s dead body. He checks his reflection one last time, sucking at his teeth before he phases into shadow, hovering just outside the edges of the foyer. The flames of the candelabra flicker in an invisible wind and the man whip his head around, looking for a threat that isn’t there—

And Sanji coalesces right behind him. “Hello, little huma— Ack!” A sword swings for his neck in the space of a breath and he leans back on instinct, not putting much effort into it—

The tip nicks his throat and draws blood.

Sanji’s eyes go wide. Oh, this just got interesting.

Regular blades can’t hurt him. Can’t even touch him; they pass right through his form like he’s made of liquid shadow, but he feels this cut. The faint sting, the hot trickle over his tendons, the smell of his own blood thick in the air. He hadn’t even heard the sword unsheathe.

The man is backing away, eyes wild; Sanji huffs a laugh and melts into the shadow again, reappearing just in time for the man to bump into him with a loud swear. Sanji needs to stop calling him The Man. “What’s your name?”

The Man scowls as he holds his sword ready, and it pulls at the vertical scar over his left eye. “Like hell I’ll tell you. I’m not gonna let you use me for whatever— witchy shit you wanna do.”

Sanji raises an unimpressed brow. “First of all, I’m a demon, not a witch. And second, it doesn’t work like that. You need my name for spells and such.”

“Which is?”

“Now why would I tell you?” He grins, sharp and sweet like the song of a blade through the air. “You’ll know mine when I know yours, Marimo.”

“Marimo?” his visitor scoffs, and Sanji shrugs with a genial smile even as Marimo bristles. Better than The Man.

He turns around, gliding through the foyer more for the sake of having something to do than actually trying to go anywhere, and of course Marimo follows. “Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” he sighs, side-eyeing the man as he squints warily at a bust of some sort of cat with seven eyes.

“Nope.”

“What’s the deal, then? A human all the way down here? Hell isn’t exactly the most popular vacation spot, y’know.” Sanji pauses and gives a pointed look to the weapon that had drawn his blood. “And that is not a normal sword.”

Marimo’s eyebrows twitch, the only sign Sanji gets that he’s surprised. “Cursed blade,” the man grumbles, rubbing a thumb over the hilt. “And I’m looking for someone.”

“…In Hell.” Sanji’s skeptical.

“My best friend got himself kicked through a portal, alright?” Marimo protests, lip curling in irritation.

“Ha! Good luck with that,” Sanji huffs, walking again. “Nobody new’s been down here except—” Wait. He spins on his heel, and Marimo narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Dark hair, chatty as anything, about… yea high?” he asks, lifting his hand as an estimate, and he lurches back when Marimo leans all up in his face with his eyes like sharp granite.

“You know something.”

“One of my… acquaintances said something about it, yes.” Mihawk had mentioned a guy suddenly popping up. Monkey something-or-other. Loofah? He opens his mouth to speak right as he hears an odd growl, and Marimo pulls back with the tips of his ears turning red. A huff of a laugh slips out without Sanji’s permission. “Alright, come on,” he decides, creating a shadow door and waiting for the other man to follow. “Can’t find your friend on an empty stomach.”

They walk straight into the kitchen, and Sanji gets to work whipping up a plate of omurice. He was a chef before, and he still is one; he’ll feed anyone who’s hungry. He might not be human or alive (or is he? He still isn’t sure) anymore but he refuses to let go of the values that he’d lived and breathed by, no matter how… questionable his unexpected guest may be.

He is done in a matter of minutes. “Eat.” The plate scrapes as he slides it across the countertop with cutlery, but Marimo just glares. “What? Don’t like eggs?”

“Isn’t there some rule about getting trapped here if you eat?”

Sanji resists the urge to roll his eyes, because Hell’s bells, this man is stubborn. “Look, that’s all bullshit, alright? Eat, or I’ll make you. This is the only place around for leagues that has food you could possibly digest. Or would you rather go hunt for elephant scorpions?”

The man recoils. “The fuck are those?”

“You don’t wanna know.” He nudges the fork and spoon closer, crossing his arms with an expectant eyebrow.

Marimo raises one right back, but he hesitantly picks up the cutlery and digs in. “…So you eat human food,” he mutters after a while, and Sanji looks up from where he’s washing the dishes.

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Dunno,” the other man muses, taking another bite. The dim light of the wall sconces makes his three golden earrings gleam, highlighting the gnarly scar across his chest. “What with the whole demon thing.”

“Not all of us have a taste for mortal flesh,” Sanji sniffs, examining his cuticles coolly before getting back to scrubbing.

He’s feeling a little strange. Maybe it’s the human interaction after so long of being down here with just his invisible friends and other demons for company, but it’s making something hurt right behind his ribs, where his heart beats more slowly than it has any right to. He’d missed this. Cooking for someone else. Banter. Companionship.

He takes a shaky breath and plunges his hands into the water, grabbing a frying pan and scouring it viciously. No use reminiscing and chasing pipe dreams.

“Oi.”

Marimo’s voice catches his attention, and he rinses the sponge. “Hm?”

“How’s the—?” The man gestures vaguely to his neck, and Sanji’s fingers fly up to his throat to feel for the cut.

“Oh, that.” It’s already mostly healed, and he tilts his jaw to the side to show it. “S’fine. See?”

Marimo grunts, turning back to the last bites of his food. “Sorry.”

Sanji stills, something wild flaring hot in his ribcage before he mentally wrangles it into submission. He wouldn’t have expected an apology from anyone— much less this man. “It’s no big deal.”

“Still,” Marimo says gruffly, sliding the plate back over, the ceramic scraped clean. “And thanks.” He blinks for a second before nodding to the empty plate, as if it isn’t clear enough. “For the food.”

What the fuck. Sanji takes it, feeling like he’s in a bit of a daze. Marimo had seemed like a bit of a brute at first, with his scars and his close-cropped hair and his physique and the stupid shirt that was open halfway down his damn chest (Sanji, don’t look, it doesn’t matter how many muscles he has), not to mention the three swords. He’s bullheaded but obviously skilled, and— who the Hell is this guy?

“Who sent you,” Sanji breathes as he sets the plate down, something sinking in the pit of his gut. He readies one hand behind his back. There has to be a catch.

Marimo frowns. “Nobody sent me, I told you I’m looking for my—”

He lunges. His claws are around the man’s neck in less than a second, digging up into the soft part of his throat. Marimo’s Adam’s apple bobs against the pad of his thumb. “Who sent you,” he hisses again, and it comes out less steady than he likes.

Sanji doesn’t know why he’s affected. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. He has not fallen so far that the thought of this small bit of— of courtesy, of company, being a farce should feel like such a betrayal.

So why does it?

He tightens his grip, gaze boring into eyes that have gone granite-dark in the low light, and yet Marimo does not pull away. The man tips his chin up, allows the point of Sanji’s claw to dig just beneath his trachea. “Nobody sent me,” he repeats evenly, chest rising and falling with his breaths, and Sanji holds back a snarl. He has been alone for too long for some human to come waltzing in and fucking up his life with— whatever this is, only for him to get butthurt because it wasn’t real. It’s not even that big of a deal and he feels fucking ridiculous.

“If you’re lying—”

“I’m not.”

And it seems like he really isn’t. Marimo’s pulse is rock steady, his gaze unflinchingly neutral, tracking Sanji across the room even as the demon slowly pulls away.

“I’m sorry,” Sanji mutters, leaning back against the sink and pressing a hand over his eyes with a tired exhale. “I apologise, I— I lost myself.”

“S’okay,” Marimo says cautiously. His swords clatter against each other as he stands and pushes the stool in with his knee. “I should… get going.”

“Yeah.” Taking a deep breath, Sanji shakes his head a little and smoothes his hands over the front of his blouse. He snaps his fingers, and a shadow door materialises in front of the other man. “This will take you to the acquaintance I was talking about, Mihawk. He’s your best bet at finding— What’s his name?”

“Luffy.”

“Luffy. Right.”

Marimo hesitates, and Sanji feels like something’s gotten caught in his throat.

“It gets lonely here, doesn’t it?” the other man asks abruptly, turning to face Sanji properly.

He swallows. “…Sometimes,” he concedes, keeping his tone light. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Marimo gives an aborted jerk of his head, like he hadn’t been able to decide whether to nod or not. “Luffy’s appetite is crazy. He’ll be hungry when I find him.”

Sanji can’t help but laugh. It seems to be becoming a recurring problem. “You asking if I’ll feed him?”

“Yeah. Because I think you’ll say yes.”

A smirk pulls at Sanji’s mouth, and he lets it lean sharp. “Do you have a death wish, planning to come back to a demon’s castle?”

“Maybe,” Zoro mutters, but he matches Sanji’s expression tooth for tooth. “But the food’s good, and the company’s… decent.”

Sanji really does roll his eyes this time. Unbelievable. “You’ve got some nerve, Marimo.”

“Zoro.”

Zoro. It echoes around in his skull, sets something sparking up under his skin. “Zoro,” he tries, cocking his head before he nods to the shadow door. “Get going, idiot. That isn’t going to stay open forever.”

Zoro takes a step backwards. “You haven’t told me your name.”

Sanji purses his lips to hide his chuckle. “Come back with Luffy, and maybe you’ll find out.”

The last thing he sees is the swordsman’s grin before the door dissolves, leaving him alone in his kitchen with a feeling in his chest that he hasn’t felt for ages. Fuck, this Zoro is trouble.

Sanji drags his hands over his face and groans, but he’s smiling.

All he does in this damn castle is laze around and cook for himself. If it means cooking for someone else, and decent company… Well, a little trouble couldn’t hurt.

#zosan #zosan au #one piece zosan #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #zoro #one piece #ino’s ask box

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hard-core-super-star · 1 year

Text

it's you that i've been missing [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: a quiet morning with hailee leads to an invitation to move in with her...and the creation of her new song.

wordcount: 1.1k

warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff; hailee being the cutest human in existence; take a shot every time I mention the sun or use the word warm

a/n: i kind of hate how this fic turned out but i've had it in my drafts since sunkissing came out so here you go. insert a joke about wlw and u-hauls here.

* * * * * * *

The morning sun shines brightly outside while you lay peacefully in your girlfriend’s arms.

The peace doesn’t last long, however, as the brightness reaches your closed eyes. A small groan escapes your mouth as you bury your head into Hailee’s chest, trying to block out the sunlight.

Your attempt works for a few moments but you’re unable to fall back asleep. You groan again but make no attempt to get up, content to lay in bed with Hailee for as long as possible.

Your eyes open and you lean back slightly to look at your girlfriend. Your eyes trace over her features as she sleeps, the warm sun rays paint her face in a beautiful golden light and you’re pretty sure you could spend hours admiring her beauty.

"I can feel you staring."

The corners of her mouth quirk up into a small smile and you let out a small chuckle. "How long have you been awake?"

"Couple minutes." Her voice is low and a little raspy, the best combination, in your humble opinion. "I was waiting to see if you were going to go back to sleep."

“I would if the sun wasn’t in my eyes," you say, a hint of a tease in your voice. "We need to change those curtains."

She opens her eyes, the sunlight giving them an ethereal glow that leaves your brain feeling scattered. "Oh, do we? Didn't realize you lived here too, baby."

It takes a second for her words to register since you're too busy admiring her features but once you do, your eyes widen in embarrassment. "Shit, sorry, I didn't-"

Her soft laugh interrupts you as your cheeks turn significantly warmer, although this time it's not from the sunlight. "y/n, you don't have to apologize."

You attempt to hide your blushing face behind your hands but your girlfriend is too quick. Her hands gently wrap around your wrists and she uses them to pull you closer to her until your faces are mere inches apart.

The proximity only serves to fluster you further. "Hi."

"Hi, darling." Her voice is as soft as the look in her eyes. "You're cute when you're flustered."

"Hailee…" Her name comes out of your mouth in a way that sounds a little too much like a whine for your liking.

You roll over onto your other side so she can't look at your blushing face any longer. She laughs again, her arm wrapping itself around your waist as she presses her front to your back.

"You don't have to hide, baby, I was only teasing."

You don’t reply immediately so she starts to lay a few kisses on the back of your shoulder. You let out a content little hum at the feeling, instantly relaxing against her. "Is that an apology?"

"I don't think I have to apologize for having the cutest girlfriend in the world," she mumbles in between kisses.

Your heart skips a beat at her words. Clearly, you're the one with the cutest girlfriend in the world. You decide to humor her, though.

"Smooth, Steinfeld."

"Will you turn back around now…please?" She adds a few more kisses onto your skin for good measure.

You melt a little from the softness in her voice. “Fine.”

You turn around until you’re face to face with her again, her arm remains secured around your waist as you admire each other's features from so close a distance. A few seconds of silence go by before your girlfriend breaks it.

"You could move in, y'know? I wouldn't mind."

“You really mean that?” The question comes out as a whisper despite your best efforts not to sound nervous. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

Her reply is immediate and full of a sincerity you still haven’t gotten used to. “I think I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. So, no, I don’t think it’s too soon.”

You open your mouth to say something but you’re at a complete loss for words. Hailee waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts, the smile never wavering for even a split second.

“I’d love to move in with you, Lee…as long as you’re sure it’s what you want. I don’t want to overstep.”

She doesn’t respond with words, instead, she leans in to press a kiss to your lips. You let her pull you in closer, your hand coming up to rest on her cheek as you’re swept away by the love that flows between you both.

You reluctantly pull away from her, a little breathless but more at peace than you have been in weeks. Her eyes trail over your face for a few silent seconds before her face changes.

You know exactly what that look means without her even having to say anything.

In an instant, she rolls away from you, her hands reaching for the journal she keeps on the bedside table. You can hear her mumbling lyrics under her breath but you can’t make out what they are.

You watch her scribble down her ideas onto a blank page, wondering how in the hell you managed to find someone as amazing as her.

The silence stretches out for a few minutes but you don’t mind one bit. You’re happy to admire her face as she works through the song swimming around her mind. The subtle furrow of her brow, the soft sparkle in her eyes, the warmth that radiates from her smile.

You could spend the rest of your life like this.

Hailee finally looks up from the journal, successfully interrupting your thoughts as she shares her ideas with you. “What do you think of 'light drifting, sunkissing'?”

The smile you give her is genuine and full of unspoken adoration. "I love it. How far did you get?"

She shrugs, handing you the journal. "Not too far. It's mostly random lyrics that don't really go together."

Your eyes scan the page in front of you and you can't fight the flush that spreads along your face as you take in the lyrics. "It's you that I've been missing, huh? Whoever this is about is one lucky person."

You look up just in time to catch the affectionate roll of her eyes. "Would you believe me if I said it's actually about Martini?" She asks, a teasing tone to her words.

"Is it weird that I would?" You reply with a laugh.

"Okay, now I'm offended. Give that back."

She tries to sound annoyed but her grin is too wide for you to believe she's anything but delighted by your banter. Still, you do as she says, handing back the journal before moving back into her arms.

Your head finds its rightful place against her chest again and you can feel her fingers tracing along the skin of your back while she holds you close. A beat of silence passes before you speak again. "You do love me more than Martini though, right?"

"y/n!"

The room fills with the sound of your laughter. Yup, you could definitely get used to this.

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld #kate bishop #marvel #mcu #wlw #wlw fic #writing

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alreadyjackbestfriend · 2 years

Text

FRIENDSHIP TEST

Pairing: jack harlow x famous!reader.

Genre: fluff

A/N: *suddenly has a surge of energy at three AM and writes an imagine* also, i took inspiration from the friendship tests from glamour, but especially this one (it's iconic in my opinion)

Y/N Y/S/N AND JACK HARLOW TAKE A FRIENDSHIP TEST

The video starts with different clips of both talking about each other.

“Jack and I met when I was 21” you said to the camera, “on the red carpet for an award show”

“i thought she looked really beautiful, not gonna lie, she was stunning, well, she is stunning… that’s why I introduced myself in that moment” he said, laughing with his whole body.

“It's only been two years, but I feel like I've known him all my life”

“but she is much more than how she looks, in these two years I have learned to know her and…” he sighs “she makes my heart feel warm”

“he treats people with a lot of respect, he is very enthusiastic when it comes to meeting new places and people, and he is very optimistic, which I am not” you said the last part chuckling.

“I know that if I need her, she’s gonna be there”

“he’s super protective of me, and honestly I love that, I’ve never have a friend like him” you said smiling shyly.

EXERCISE ONE: Stare into each other’s eyes for 3 minutes.

“I don't think I've ever looked you in the eyes for so long” he confessed, laughing, while his cheeks turned slightly pink, you smiled.

“I think with every second that passes, your eyes get bluer” you responded, and jack smiled widely.

Seconds later, Jack winked at you and you started laughing, then you started to make funny faces, making him laugh, “okay, okay, stop it, we have to finish this” he said, looking at you serious again, but it didn’t last long, because you couldn't look at him without smiling and he couldn't see you smile and keep a straight face, so the last minute was just you guys looking at each other while smiling.

EXERCISE TWO: Give each other compliments.

The producer gave each of you two small notebooks and a pencil to write compliments for the other. For you it was very easy to find words to describe anything, but Jack was not far behind, being a rapper who wrote his own songs, he also had a way with words, especially if it was about you, so when you looked at him out of the corner of your eye, you could see how his hand moved almost frantically, causing the pencil to write quickly on the page.

after a while, it was time to tell each other what you had written.

“ok, so…” you said first, “you have an amazing sense of humor” Jack looked at the camera in an arrogant manner, shrugging his shoulders and opening the palms of his hands in a gesture that said "what else did you expect”, you rolled your eyes as you laughed, but kept talking, “and you make me laugh all the time” he smiled genuinely this time.

“well then, to stay on the same topic…” he said without looking at his notebook “i love your laugh, and the way your eyes crinkle when you smile” you smiled, blushing, “look, there it is” he said smiling with you, and you covered your face with your hands.

“stop ittt!!” you groaned and he laughed.

“ok, go on”

“You are very confident, but without being arrogant” you continued with your next compliment, “and you have remained humble despite all your success”

“thank you” he said, taking your hand to leave a kiss on your knuckles, and you laughed, “my turn” he said, looking at his notes, “you are super intelligent, very creative, you have inspired me many times without realizing it, and you are the sweetest woman I have ever met, but that doesn't stop you from standing up for yourself. you are very independent, but very affectionate, you love hugs and I love that about you, and you give the best advice”

“Jaacckkk” you said, pouting, with your eyes shining from the tears that wanted to come out, and got closer to give him a hug, “I love you so much” you said.

“I love you too” he said, hugging you back, and leaving a kiss on your shoulder.

EXERCISE THREE: Hug for one minute.

“oh, we were already doing that, pft” jack said hugging you again and making you laugh, “let's just continue”

“This is the easiest thing I've ever done in my life, I could stay like this forever really” you said, your face facing the camera while your cheek was on his chest.

“you’re too sweet” he responded, kissing your head.

After a while, the producer said “the minute is up, guys”

“ok” jack said, not letting you go and you started giggling.

“2 minutes” the producer spoke again.

“okay, okay” jack said this time, releasing you, pretending to be annoyed. You smiled at him.

FINAL THOUGHTS

“this was super fun” you said

“it was” jack complemented, “obviously I had never done something like this with a friend, I feel that this brought us even closer”

“yeah!” you said excited, giving him a side hug, “so thank you glamour for giving us that!” you said smiling at the camera and waving goodbye, while Jack made the "L" with his fingers, as always.

After a few weeks, the video was finally uploaded to YouTube, going viral within hours and getting thousands of reactions from viewers, the comments section going crazy.

Username.

THEY WOULD BE SUCH A CUTE COUPLE

Username.

If they ever dated, I would do ANYTHING to protect their relationship, like ANYTHING

Username.

This two should have babies just for the sake of beauty

Username.

He’s SO IN LOVE with her, I wanna cry

#jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you #jack harlow fluff #friendship test

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aesterblaster · 2 months

Text

Bad Dogs Can Learn New Tricks

Which Blue Lock Characters Have Gone To Therapy, In My Humble Opinion. (+ Who Desperately Needs To But Hasn't + Who Might In The Future)

Warnings: Some spoilers for way past the U-20 Arc, also not an extensive list of characters, honestly kind of funny. I wasn't trying to be TOO serious

Songs: Falling Behind / Laufey , The Main Character / Will Wood , Nothing's New / Rio Romeo

Has Gone To Therapy And Loves Their Therapist Gang

-Anri, There is no way she is able to have that much patience and take that much shit from corporate without having a therapist. I think she uses like 1/5th of her paycheck on books about improving your life and stuff like that LMAO. Her therapist is also a woman so it helps her to have someone who understands her frustrations with not really getting credit despite being one of the founders of Blue Lock. Also sometimes she gets worried she's unethical towards the boys so that weighs on her.

-Kenyu, Look it's still in progress ok? He was just starting before he came to Blue Lock. Once he realized he was going to lose his vision he started working with a professional and found it really helpful. In fact they were the one who encouraged him to go after Blue Lock in the first place. One of the reasons he was so quick to say sorry to Isagi is because he has those #coping skills.

-Gagumaru, After having a run in with a bear in the woods he kept having nightmares and his parents made him go to therapy. Well it was kindddd of therapy..it was a hippie who's a family friend. That doesn't mean he doesn't know grounding techniques. He even taught Naruhaya how to calm down from a panic attack once. But yeah, he doesn't really tell people that he went to therapy

-Snuffy, After his best friend's death he went to therapy ASAP. The type to only call his therapist once every 5 months and still have a rock solid relationship with them. His therapist helped him break his womanizing habit and realize that he's enough all on his own. 100% did some soul searching and stepped away from the scene. He also combined the therapist with a personal trainer to really max out his healing process. 100/10 dude for it.

"I Have Gone To Therapy And It Didn't Work" Crew

-Chigiri, Similar to Kenyu, his parents thought he might need some mental health help after the trauma of thinking he'd never be an athlete again. But he was one of those cold shoulder my mom is forcing me to do this cases. He never actually worked through what he might do if this whole thing falls through. Also snarkiness 100, his therapist almost quit because he was so insulting to them. Chigiri just felt ashamed that his parents even thought he should go in the first place and convinced his sister to also beg them to stop taking him lmao.

-Isagi, Okay at some point his parents realize he takes faliure wayyy too hard and tried to get him in therapy. When he talked to the therapist though the dude was like "Yeah, he's just competitive. Nothing wrong here." Alas, he's been masking for so long that he's incapable of revealing his issues to anyone who hasn't known him for 3 years or plays sports with him. Also, he convinced himself he doesn't need it and then idly imagines just going apeshit and killing his enemies to cope with stress...like bro...

-Noa, Why do you think he gets along with Isagi? All jokes aside, his PR people probably asked him to do it and he went and then secretly never went back. It honestly didn't work because he wasn't willing to give it a chance. And still isn't!!!! Would rather backflip off of a yacht than tell someone in a lounge chair about how growing up in intense poverty still haunts him sometimes, makes him question his worth and avoid conflict in day to day life. Sometimes he wonders if one day he'll wake up and find out it was all a dream....But nah he doesn't need therapy!

-Oliver, He was soooo close to actually getting his mental health in check but then his therapist retired. After that he got another really seasoned one and saw the amount of case files in his desk and just felt like a straight up burden. One of those "other people have it worse" and "it is what it is" guys. He's very open about his emotions and feelings so he just talks to his friends when he's really struggling. (Even though Sendou never says the right things-) Like yeah it's their job but why bug these nice people when sex?? Why talk about issues in sessions when he can get drunk or go train for 4 hours??? Riddle him that?

The "I Need Therapy And I Know It" Team

-Ness, He has so many fucking issues. Honestly, despite his devout worship of Kaiser he does realize that his behavior isn't quite healthy or normal. Dude tries to show you a funny video on his phone and all of his ads are for Betterhelp. Genuinely trying to figure out a diagnosis. Yes he has looked up all sorts of personality disorders and no he doesn't think he has any of them (He has at least two). But again, Ness is self aware enough to know that some help or someone to talk to who sees him as an actual human being would be nice.

-Niko, He cannonicaly describes himself as very very introverted and nerdy, also he hides his face. Tell me you were bullied in school or at least had an extremely traumatizing incident without telling me. Kind of never had anyone, just people who hung around because of his soccer skill or avoided him like the plague. He is that guy who will rant about "society" online for hours and fantasize about moving to a different country thinking he'd get better treatment there. Cripplingly lonely and self conscious at the end of the day, in all honesty. Also he genuinely wants a therapist but just can't afford one.

-Hiori, Obviously his parents are the ones who stop him. He tries to go and his mom realizes where he's making her drive him and swerves off. Even when he gets his license, you just know they're tracking everywhere he goes. He doesn't have enough privacy to really get better like that, Hiori has to wait until he moves out. Still genuinely fucked up by the fact that Gagumaru has gotten therapy and he hasn't. Just listens to emo music and plays video games and pretends that that fixes everything. He's totally releasing a top-selling book about his horrible childhood after Blue Lock.

-Bachira, Is he outgoing and silly? Yes. Does he need better coping skills? Also yes. Men will tell you the most horrible and traumatizing childhood memories about getting jumped and then laugh it off, and it's him, Bachira is men. He ties to brush off his trauma with humor but it never really works. He knows that he genuinely needs to talk to someone other than Isagi or his mom about the Monster and how it was by his side for so long. But also never goes through with getting professional help, just thinks about it sometimes.

The "What's Therapy? Fuck You!" Group

-Kaiser, Oh god, don't even suggest it to him. I headcannon that mental illness kind of runs in his family. He's watched family members be taken away for being too out there and openly mentally ill so he has a reason to not trust doctors. Just associates therapy and things like it with abusive institutions. If he told a therapist all of his issues, he'd probably be sent to a psyche ward. Just the threat of being sent there single handedly kept him from killing himself or talking about his feelings when he was younger. He will continue to just be slightly abusive to the people around him thank you very much.

-Ego, Bro's got the government banning him from soccer and you think he's thinking of therapy? When Anri tells him he needs it offhand, he's like, revenge is my therapy. Insane as fuck but thinks that it's a good thing. He is not willing to talk about his issues to anyone, but especially not someone who will write it all down. Genuinely ruined a few relationships in his past because the main people he attracts are the "I Can Fix Him" people and it just never works. Suprisingly unself aware for how much he analyzes others.

-Barou, His main issue is just shame and failed gifted kid syndrome. But as soon as he's back up he's convinced he doesn't need help. Barou suffers from really high highs and really low lows but he also has the mental fortitude to handle it. He is a well adjusted and kind enough person outside of the soccer field so he never considers that he needs therapy. When he feels bad about himself he hits the gym but he's never really opened up to anyone and he sure isn't going to start once he gets more famous. Especially when he's seen as one of the best right now, can't risk his reputation.

-Rin, He's would rather gut himself with a sword than admit that his mental illness doesn't make him a cool loner wolf and just a lonely person who hasn't healed his inner child. Kind of just wants someone to baby him and tell him everything's going to be alright but in the mean time his barriers are up 24/7. He disdains therapy, thinks that he'd just be seen as a pay check and he kind of isn't wrong. Rin would rather pay money for expensive cleats than spend it for someone to suggest him breathing exercises. He also had a traumacore phase, but he'd rather not talk about it.

#every once in a blue moon my brain works #blue lock #bllk #blue lock headcannons #bllk headcannon #bllk anime #feel free to add on in tags #rin bllk #isagi yoichi #barou blue lock #ego jinpachi #kaiser michael #bachira bllk #hiori yo #niko ikki #ness blue lock #bluelock #chigiri blue lock #bllk fanfic

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cloveroctobers · 9 months

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LUCA — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: taking a shot writing for Mr. Luca! Love when the bear gives us crumbs and I’m able to create/build more off what was given. Let’s give it up for Mr. Eyebrow king being in lurve 💛 also I promise this is the last time I’ll be using a song from this album but the entire album fits for the bear in my humble opinion, I’m not going to hold you!

WARNINGS: still trying to get a feel for Luca’s character so I hope I wasn’t too far off for him! Feels! A supportive partner! Mentions of mental health & dark thoughts that lead to dark actions—but not overly described but definitely hinted!

Added summer prompts from here & I’m using these two: “hey, you said to keep hydrated! i’m pretty sure there’s some water in this cocktail.” + “i’m not happy you’re sunburnt, but i am enjoying getting to be the one helping you put aloe vera on.”

*GIF BELONGS TO: @goodsirs

❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚

Being back in Copenhagen was a whirlwind of emotions but Peyton picked the very best one.

To tell you the truth, Peyton’s been away for about three months, and decided to take the trip back but not alone.

She’s the one leading the way, natural sway in her hips even beneath her cream shacket as she’s all smiles to the familiar workers who seem to be moving at ease. It’s a Sunday, a little after twelve and the restaurant isn’t as busy yet. In her mind, it’s the perfect time to show up, unannounced, although Sydney and Marcus were definitely questioning it.

Carmy doesn’t say much, deciding to take in the architecture of the dark painted walls and the industrial decor instead. He still follows behind as Peyton pushes the back doors open, holding it in place as she waves the three to where the real show is located.

The kitchen is louder and lively compared to the main floor: which is quiet with small chatter, cedar wood infused air, and the gentle splashing from the large stone water fountain, that’s tucked in the back of the main dining floor.

There’s at least six chefs moving around in the kitchen, handling different tasks and talking to each other in calm tones that aren’t as similar back in Chicago. It’s a whole different atmosphere, Carmy thinks and he knows his thoughts are matched as his round eyes peek over at Sydney’s while Marcus sends all split-tooth grins.

It doesn’t take long for Peyton’s eyes to find Luca’s frame, who has his back turned to the four, large hands tending to the dough on the counter that he’s kneading.

“Is that the guy?” Sydney asks, only hearing a few stories from Carmy and occasionally Marcus.

Carmy nods, “yeah, yeah. That’s Luca.”

Peyton continues holding the door for the chefs who start to leave the area, greeting Peyton on their way before she lets the door gently flap behind them after they take their exit. The woman with the hair full of volume takes a stand in between Marcus and Sydney.

“Welcome and welcome back to Brimstone’s Gate.” Peyton introduced the trio who further took in the environment of the kitchen.

Marcus took a deep inhale, “it’s nice to be back…after everything you know?”

A solemn mood is felt after his words.

“I absolutely get that,” Peyton comments as she rests a hand on his shoulder, “just consider this your second home. A place of comfort and to relax your mind.”

Marcus gives a small smile, “thanks, Peyton.”

“Of course.” Peyton moves to face the three again, smile on her glossed lips as she clasps her hands together while she begins walking backwards, “so brimstone’s gate is one of the popular restaurants here in Copenhagen just like the lovely owner and manager of this place that you just met, Ragmus previously said. It’s mainly known for its intricate desserts and quaint and savory cuisine.”

“You’re really selling it, Peyton.” Sydney tells with two thumbs up.

Peyton winks as she points out at the twenty-something year old, “thanks girl, it’s what I do.”

Peyton’s a successful Editorial Food Photographer and it became the best decision she’s made for her career.

“Should we be calling you presenter chef instead?” Carmy teases, “we could have used some of those skills at the bear.”

Peyton laughs as she rolls her thumb over her fingers, “where the money resides, honey.”

“Ah, and here I thought we were friends.” Carmy’s got a crooked smile playing on his lips while Peyton playfully scoffs.

They both know if Peyton was in Chicago on better terms, Peyton would definitely shoot some photos if that’s what Carmy really needed for The Bear. She met Carmy years ago, attending the same restaurant alongside Luca, until she decided creating food wasn’t her passion like her well-known food critic mother wanted it to be. Instead she liked seeing the visuals and telling hundreds of those stories through film.

“That’s a likely story,” she responds as she purposely bumps into Luca who hadn’t noticed they were here, “oh my apologies! Didn’t see you there, Chef.”

Both Marcus and Sydney both squinted and furrowed their brows at each other while Carmy folded his arms, waiting to see how this would play out.

Luca exhales, assuming it to be one of the new clumsy younger chef’s that just started here two weeks ago. He pulls some of the wet dough that sticks to his finger tips and barely glances upwards, a routine of words spewing from his lips, “t’alright chef, let’s just remind ourselves the notices we give out to one another when we cross around, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” Peyton says, “Mind telling us what you’re preparing?”

His arched brows immediately furrow before he focuses in on who exactly is speaking to him. There’s surprise written right on his face, brows raising while Peyton is still full of soft smiles that she sends his way. He’s grabbing a rag then, struggling to break his eyes away to see the other three faces.

“Hey man,” Marcus starts which makes a slow grin appear on Luca’s own face.

“Good to see you again, Chef.”

Luca’s eyes trail over the small group, his eyes then settling on Carmy’s who still looks the same as he leans from one foot to the other but he’s full of more tattoos. Which almost makes Luca want to glance down at his own filled arms but he decides against it. He still liked his own artwork better.

“Carmen Berzatto.”

“Luca Hodgson.”

The three are watching the pair as if this is a pickle ball match. Sydney’s holding a breath as Luca makes his way over to Carmy, towering over him and face not revealing any emotion while Marcus is sending glances to Peyton who is behind analyzing Luca’s dish.

Luca says, “Are you still a know it all prick?”

Marcus was not expecting this since it was Carmy who reached out to Luca in the first place for his experience here months ago. He figured they were on good terms if Carmy wanted Marcus to learn from Luca. What changed?

“Well that uh depends, you still a show off, jackass?” Carmy met Luca’s eyes, not backing down in the slightest.

They hold each other’s stares before Luca breaks off into a laugh, followed by Carmy as they briefly embrace, hands clapping each other on the back in greeting.

“Oh, okay then.” Sydney mutters as she gazed over at Marcus who is also confused with a shrug of his shoulders.

Carmy then does the honors of introducing Sydney and Luca, who immediately shakes his hand, despite the sticky and warm residue from the dough.

“Pleasure to meet you, Chef Sydney. You probably can’t say the same now with dough on your hand, I suppose. I’ll grab you a wet nap.” Luca tells as he moves around to grab the said item.

He leans against the opposite counter where he was previously working, now fully wiping his own hands, glancing over at Peyton who’s all up in his dish as he voices, “I wasn’t aware any of you were coming. A heads up would have been cool.”

“So you’re not a fan of surprises, noted.” Marcus says while Luca dips his head about in a sorta motion.

Carmy scratched at his brow then, “We were under the impression that Peyton had it all sorted.”

Luca’s eyes are back on Peyton who’s listening but doesn’t provide anything to the conversation, it’s not like Luca could do anything about it now since they were all here.

“Don’t touch the remonce.”

“It’s not remonce yet,” Peyton looks over her shoulder at Luca who rolls his eyes.

Luca then says, “nice of you to let me know you were bringing guests.”

“They’re not guests, they’re practically family.” Peyton fans her hand about while Luca just lets out a sigh.

Carmy cuts in, “we’re not trying to disrupt the flow you have goin’ on here by any means.”

Luca snorts, “uh huh. It’s slow right now, so you lot are lucky I don’t mind.”

Sydney awkwardly claps her hands together, “great! We’re also really curious to what you’re working on…here at work.”

“Smooth, Syd. Real smooth.” Marcus teases while Sydney tightens her eyes sarcastically.

Luca looks back at his dish where Peyton is ready to show it off, posing in front of it like they were on jeopardy. The man cant help but to shake his head at her antics but announces, “I’m making frøsnapper.”

“It’s a traditional dish here,” Peyton mentions, “frø is a danish word for seed and frog.”

Sydney jokes, “Is it also going to leap off the tray after you take it out of the oven?”

Luca blinks but says with a straight face, “maybe if I throw in a few drops of green food coloring.”

It took a few seconds for Sydney to get the joke back, breathing out some slow laughter, while Marcus shook his head at her and Carmy watched as Luca briefly touched Peyton’s hips to make more space for him to talk about the pastry.

“Yes so, frøsnapper. Also known as for the English, seed snapper or frog snapper. It’s got remonce filling and once it’s done baking, it’s sweet and savory while the texture falls between flaky and delicate.”

“Like a croissant.” Marcus pointed out.

Luca shook his head, “Not quite, Marcus. This is Denmark.”

Marcus paused as he picked up on Luca’s mannerisms, “…fucker.”

Which makes Luca grin again.

“How long is Prep time?” Carmy asks as he makes the first move to get closer, peering at all the ingredients.

“About 12 hours or so.”

Carmy let’s out a low-whistle, “Shit.”

“Shit’s right mate and I started yesterday. It’s a excellent breakfast or pick me up for the afternoon, which is why I planned for it to be done today.” Luca explained.

Peyton speaks up, “and it will be…how long for the oven?”

“Fifteen minutes.” Luca automatically answers as he looks at the clock on the wall behind them all.

“See…Patience.”

“Every second.” Luca moves his winter deep ocean eyes to her ink colored ones, the two holding each other’s stare before he turns back to the rest.

“Any of you have allergic reactions to sesame or poppy seeds?” He asks, watching their facial expressions.

Carmy shrugs while both Marcus and Sydney shake their heads, ‘no.’

“Great, grab some aprons by the door there while I roll out the dough.”

“Oh, we’re doing work too on this vacation. Okay, yeah! I’m down.” Sydney rubs her hands together in excitement as she elbows Carmy lightly, who twists a smile onto his own lips.

Marcus is the first to move while Sydney follows. Carmy stays behind with Luca and Peyton as he picks up on the end of their hushed conversation:

“…I’ll be much better when we have dinner?”

“Cant. Not sure how long I’ll be here tonight, we have a few summer birthday gatherings here later. What about breakfast? It’ll be my day off.”

“Early meeting for me, I’ll be at the office.

“Lunch then?”

“…That works.”

“Finally.” Luca mutters as he takes his time but adds just enough pressure to roll out the dough, which makes Peyton let out a small laugh.

Sydney comes back, handing Carmen a apron who was mostly in a trance watching the dough get flattened that he didn’t bother to interrupt the conversation between old friends. He silently thanks Sydney before securing it around his waist.

Peyton leaves room for Marcus and Sydney to take her spot on the left of Luca, “and this is where I leave you three in good hands.”

“Wait…you’re not gonna get in on this?” Sydney is surprised while a smile is still planted on Peyton’s lips.

She motions to her outfit, “Looking this good? Not today, girl.”

Sydney eyes Peyton’s outfit which consisted of her brown voluminous hair pulled back into a claw clip, a cream opened corduroy shacket and a orange and white floral mini dress, “…fair point. I’m sure if you really wanted to, you could button that thing up and throw a apron on. Doesn’t seem like something you’d want to miss.”

“Your concern is touching, sis. But I actually can’t wait to get home and I’m sure Luca will save me one to try.” Peyton says as Luca is back in his zone now, trimming the edges of the dough and slides off the ingredients of the remonce to Marcus to mix together by hand.

Luca is listening as he replies, “yeah I will, see you at home.”

“See you at home.” Peyton repeats before winking at Sydney who is gapping, Marcus widens his eyes a bit, and Carmy is covering his snickers with a balled up fist.

Sydney turns back to the dish after Peyton leaves and mumbles, “so yeah, next time I’ll shut the fuck up.”

Which earns a laugh from both Luca and Carmy.

“You could have told us, Carmy!” Sydney whisper yells at Carmy who shrugs his shoulders.

Marcus chuckles, “Hey don’t feel bad, Luca didn’t tell me shit either the last time I was here and I’m kinda feeling a way about it now.”

Luca instructs Marcus to spread half of the remonce on one side of the dough then says, “I didn’t think we needed to share love stories just yet, Chef. The love was already there in the pastries.”

“Booo, how corny of you. Where’s the tomatoes?” Marcus snorts which Luca can’t help but to chuckle back.

Luca jokes after he nods his head in approval at the amount of remonce, “Looks like all of us were left out of something, huh?”

“If you don’t mind me asking…how long…?” Sydney starts as Luca takes over after Marcus folded the dough again, slicing it into twelve rectangles before he shows Sydney what to do next.

“What? How long have we been in love and decided to get engaged?”

“This fucking guy, how did you deal with him?” Marcus laughs, asking Carmy.

Carmy says, “we handled our beef outside.”

“What?!” Sydney squawks, “there’s no way you two fought.”

Luca explains, “it happened only once not far from the restaurant we worked at. And I don’t really classify that as much of a fight.”

“A punch to the eye wasn’t good enough for you?” Carmy’s eyes are in slits at this.

Marcus comments, “Damn.”

Luca defends, “A sucker punch isn’t fair. But I got you back, we scrambled a bit and then moved passed it the next day, bruises, cuts and all.”

Marcus concludes, “Sometimes that’s just how it works.”

“It smells like too much testosterone in here for me.” Sydney cuts in.

“Not sugar?” Luca lightly questions as he starts with the egg wash before handing another brush over to Sydney to help finish the rest.

Sydney scowls, “Yeah dude, I don’t know if I like you.”

“Join the club,” Luca winks over at Carmy who rolls his eyes with a small smile.

“Are you serious?” Luca wants to know just what his soon to be wife thought she was doing.

He met up with her, right on time, finding her sitting on the stone wall with what looked like a bright Orange cocktail in a plastic cup decorated with a little umbrella and fruit jammed along the straw.

They’re at the beach, it’s mid seventies, and there’s not many people on the walkway that rests along the sand. Mostly everyone else is taking advantage of the comfortable warmth on the sand. Luca and Peyton weren’t really beach people, preferring a lake and cabin any day but it was Peyton who suggested they meet out here since it was closer to her job.

It was far from their detached home but Luca didn’t mind the drive. He loved sight seeing when he made the time for it and usually when he had the time off, which was rare, he tried to get out there and see the world since there was so much to offer. He also couldn’t wait to be in Peyton’s face again; he wouldn’t count spooning her last night either, considering his face was covered with her bonnet.

Which he missed.

Conversations were meant to be had so that they could continue on with their journey together. She had to step away from their relationship for a few months and Luca was nothing more than understanding…although it stung a bit. He even offered to pick up and go to Chicago with her but Peyton told him life couldn’t be put on pause for her low moments, yet she was appreciative.

She dressed in jeans today as she hops off the wall, a smile in her brown eyes as she holds out her arms innocently, “hey, you said to keep hydrated! i’m pretty sure there’s some water in this cocktail.”

She’s mentioning the text message Luca sent to her a few hours ago, after she announced a headache was coming on after her meeting with her pushy manager. He was just checking in as he did a bit of laundry around the house but that didn’t stop his concern at all.

“Give me that,” Luca plucks the drink from her fingertips, fast as he sniffs at it before placing his own lips right on the straw, “hmm and here I was expecting vodka.”

“It’s not that kind of party, baby.” Peyton peers up at him as she locks her arms around his waist.

One hand comes up to palm her cheek, leaving Luca to take his time trailing his eyes all over her beautiful features, “So good to have you back.”

“Kiss me then.”

Luca snorts, “is this you asking for my consent?”

“Sure, uh huh.” She’s almost swooning in his eyes and Luca smirks as he leans closer to her lips.

“Eh, maybe later.”

“You asshole!” Peyton pushes at Luca’s back after he circled around her.

He’s laughing as he tosses a tatted arm over her shoulders, liking the feel of her being tucked right underneath his arm. She doesn’t miss how he’s holding onto her drink now, but she doesn’t mind it as long as she gets to keep him close.

They’re enjoying each other’s company again, almost as if the last three months didn’t happen but they both know it did.

“So…tell it to me straight. You’re back here with me now and I was left in the dark as soon as you were checked in.”

“I wanted to call rather than write you but I never had the words.” Peyton quietly says, “And I know you wouldn’t have minded if I just said a simple hello and we breathed on the phone for twenty minutes or whatever. I just didn’t want to make it worse for you.”

Luca hums, “Guess I can appreciate you taking my feelings into account but I can’t say I wouldn’t have rather talk to you than your mum, no disrespect.”

“Yes I know, she’s a lot.”

“Most families are.”

Peyton lays her head against Luca’s shoulder as they continue walking along the path, “Well you’re my family too and I’m sorry for handing over nothing but white noise to you while I was trying to get a better hold on this.”

It was extremely hard not knowing where exactly Peyton was and dealing with a mother like her’s.

“I don’t want you to apologize for doing what you thought was best for your mental health.”

“And I don’t want you to feel like I was shutting you out…you’re the last person I’d want to ever to do that to. I love you too much, to the point where I realized that I’d always want tomorrow’s with you.”

Luca felt his heart swell at that. It was always a good feeling to know that someone loves you just as much as you loved them. Luca was always known for his banter especially back when he worked at Noma years ago with both Carmy and Peyton but it seemed like Peyton’s energy meshed well with his.

He instantly thought Peyton was attractive and didn’t enjoy how she got on with Carmy equally at the start. Her approach to cooking wasn’t as serious as it was for him and Carmy but she was curious to learning. That’s something that was brought into their soon romantic relationship, they were open to go with the flow and it led them right to Luca putting a ring on it.

Peyton never had regrets about saying yes. She knew what she wanted with Luca and although the black parts of her brain gave her heavy blues, her heart still told her all that she needed to know.

Luca was patient, tender and he was still her man. They wanted forever and had to find balance even when it became shaky at times. They wanted to stick it out, be together and they lost touch once before when Peyton was the first to leave Denmark but somehow they always found their way back.

“I think that counts for a kiss, don’t you?” Luca whispers, stopping right in their path as he stares down at the dark umber skinned beauty.

Peyton almost pounces on her toes, “thank you! As if we haven’t deprived each other enough.”

“Gosh, so needy.” Luca teases, curling a finger underneath her chin to tilt her ready lips to meet his.

They both exhale as their lips touch after being away for quite some time. Her hand is resting against his clothed ribcage and their lips move together in sync as if there isn’t any limit to time. It’s when his tongue traces the outline of her full bottom lip that she pulls away, fanning herself.

“This man is trying to get me to buss it open in public on the beach, Chile. Relax yourself Hodgson, before we catch a charge.”

Luca’s nose crinkles at this as he chuckles, “fine…save it for the indoors, yeah?”

“Maybe even in the backyard?”

Luca raises his arched brows, actually considering it, “Nah, I don’t want to hear you yelling at me for messing up your edges in the grass. Mind you, that you’re probably allergic to.”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s messed up Peyton’s edges.

However Peyton always appreciated the concern.

“What about the garden room on the side of the flat?” Luca soon suggested, leaving Peyton to also think about this before she eyed Luca up and down.

It must have still been empty since she left, that area of the home completely slipped her mind when she settled back in, even after leaving Brimstone’s gate yesterday afternoon.

“I think you forget how big you are sometimes.”

A smirk appeared on Luca’s lips then and before he could even open his mouth, Peyton was slapping her hand right over his lips.

“Don’t finish that sentence, there’s kids around.” Peyton warned.

Luca frowned as he muffled, “you started it!”

Peyton smiles at a father who is holding the bars of a tricycle of his toddler, leading them down the path, excusing them as they make their way by. Once they’re out of ear shot, Peyton lowers her hand from Luca’s lips until he pulls the sun glasses from her combed out pin-curled hair to place over his own eyes.

“You’re very handsy today.”

Luca’s arm drapes back over Peyton’s shoulder, pulling her into his side, then he presses a kiss to her temple, “I don’t see you complaining.”

“You’re right.” She pulls her cocktail back to take a sip, “why would I ever?”

“Exactly,” Luca speaks, “…going forward, whatever you need from me, don’t be afraid to let me know please, Mrs. Hodgson.”

Peyton places a kiss to Luca’s pink neck, “thank you baby.”

“Don’t start singing that pasta and lobster song please,” Luca groans after picking up on her tone.

Peyton sends him a look of innocence, “what do you mean? Are we not having that back at the house when the three bears come over?”

“What’d do you mean?”

“There’s no way we’re not inviting Carmy, Marcus, and Sydney over for dinner.”

Luca shrugs, “I didn’t know they were comin’ ‘round anyways.”

“Luca!”

“What? What if I wanted you all to myself first?”

“And you will, they’ll only be here for a week.”

“…A week too long.” Luca mutters making Peyton laugh as she shakes her head, shoving his shoulder.

“Stop it, Luca Lamar Hodgson.”

“No.” Luca chuckles as he points at the beaming woman, “Now you know that is not my middle name, at all.”

What do you have against Lamar’s Luca?

“I’ve talked to Lulu on my way here.”

Luca feels his eye twitch at the mention of his gossiping little sister, Luella. He of course loved her dearly but she could be a brat sometimes and when he misses her call, Peyton was next in line for her dramatics.

“The elevator doesn’t always go upstairs with that one. Especially with whatever she’s gone and said to you.”

“You are on a roll today,” Peyton laughed with her head thrown back, “and you’re not about to do my good sis like that either.”

“She’s my sister first and I know she didn’t say my middle name was that.”

“You don’t know our conversations.”

“Thank heavens for that.”

Peyton paused as she untangled herself from Luca who lifted up her shades to peer at her in question. She held her arms out as she says, “there’s space and opportunity if you wanna fight.”

Luca scans Peyton up and down, taking his time as he did and scoffs, “You don’t scare me, babe. I’ll have you over my shoulder like flour in seconds.”

Peyton cracks her neck and motions her hand, “come on then. Remind me, which one of us was the athlete here?”

Yeah Peyton was deeply invested in tennis once upon a time and originally that’s what Luca thought she wanted to make a profession. She still participated down at the court during the weekends and man was she fast along with those long arms that provided powerful swings. Luca couldn’t see her on the court when it came to tennis, he almost pulled a damn hamstring but he wouldn’t tell any of his mates that.

As for football and cycling…that was a different story.

“That was then and what year are we in now?” He tapped his apple-watch.

Peyton cupped her ear, “Do I hear shade?”

Luca looks around at the sky, “doesn’t appear to be partly cloudy at all. It’s actually very sunny.”

Peyton let out a whole karate sound and tried to strike one, which was humorous but Luca was swift as he easily gripped her thighs and lugged her right up onto his shoulder, holding her in place.

“I told you.” Luca said after awhile, causally walking down the path while Peyton attempted to wiggle around, “let me know when you’re done. I’m just enjoying the view.”

Peyton huffed, “now what if you made me drop my cocktail?”

“I’ve got actual water back in the car, love.”

Peyton mocked Luca who laughed and patted her backside, carrying on in Copenhagen’s sun.

Up in their bedroom, Peyton is lounging on the bed, phone raised up in the air browsing food TikTok’s until she hears Luca letting out a string of curses that sound heavy in his accent from their en suite bathroom.

“Luca, you good?” Peyton calls out to the man, breaking her eyes away from her screen.

“Y-Yup!”

That didn’t sound convincing at all.

So Peyton’s on her feet now, phone tossed to the side of her as she enters the bathroom. She gets a nice view of reddened skin that’s leading from Luca’s neck and down the upper part of his back.

“Ouch.” Peyton remarks, “I did not notice this earlier. I would have sprayed your ass down with my own sunscreen.”

Luca pinched at his skin and flinches a bit, “summer’s aren’t nearly as hot here. I don’t understand why I look like bloody salmon.”

Peyton covers her giggle, knowing why as she stands beside him, after eyeing the change in his skin tone. “I got you, don’t worry.”

There was no doubt in his mind.

Mintues later, Peyton’s retrieved the goo that she had mashed in the container, stored in the back of the fridge, knowing Luca wouldn’t have went searching through there since he tended to eat out at restaurants or order out majority of the time. He had a sweet tooth so she had to be the one to remind him to actually eat full meals instead of desserts from time to time. Which means they’ll have to go grocery shopping at some point, something Luca truly loathes. unbeknownst to him, his mother all the way out in London had grocery deliveries sent to his home, realizing that he didn’t keep his fridge stocked much after Peyton went back to the states.

Peyton first went off to California to visit her father and grandmother in search of different scenery, taking a break from the growing stress but that stress turned into something else. Luca looked back and saw the signs as they laid on the floor together in the dark, with her talking about the end but figured it was just conversation back then. It wasn’t until she went to Chicago to spend time with her controlling mother that she actually tried and it wasn’t just thoughts. Unperceived to Luca and that’s when Luca’s own mother came to be with her son during this difficult time, then he finally got the call that Peyton was being admitted, just to later learn Peyton’s mother called Luca’s first.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t a little irked that people were going behind his back when it came to Peyton. He should have been there…but he knew he couldn’t blame himself. He thought he was just sending his wife to be off for a simple get away…overall he was happy that she was still here fighting day by day.

He knows it’ll be tough but not everyday will be full of clouds.

“i’m not happy you’re sunburnt, but i am enjoying getting to be the one helping you put aloe vera on.” Peyton says as she’s on Luca’s back, knee’s on either side of him, lathering his back in the cold gel.

Her eyes observe the doodles of ink that decorated his arms and smiles at the sunflower on his shoulder, which he dedicated to her.

Luca exhales at the temperature as he continues resting his cheek against his arm, ready to doze off, “Why’s that?”

“I enjoy taking care of you too, duh.”

“I think you like to touch my body, Mariah Carey.”

“That tooooo-ooh,” she tries to belt out a whistle tone that sounds like a rooster being strangled—“but I also love you.”

“I love you lots too, even when you’re trying to make my eardrums bleed…but don’t ever forget that, yeah?” Luca says over his shoulder as he tries to ignore the sting in his skin but knowing that the comfort is coming from Peyton’s hands, he’ll survive.

Peyton leans forward again to place a kiss to the back of Luca’s head, “I won’t.”

Once enough of Luca’s back in covered in aloe, Peyton leaves to wash her hands and place the gel back into the fridge downstairs. When she comes back into the bedroom, Luca is still in the same position she left him in. Usually her side of the bed is closest to the door, which is something they deeply debated over, she climbs over him to tuck herself underneath his folded arm.

His lips press into her clothed shoulder, his t-shirt, before resting his nose against it later, breathing in her homey scent with his eyes closed. One hand goes to run through his sun lightened hair, further soothing him to sleep as she’s back on her phone now, letting him rest.

No more cold sides of the bed because Peyton was home with her warmth and Luca couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

And the next day after that.

And so on and so forth.

❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚

Go back and read my current flop summer prompt here.

Continue along with my anthology summer prompts here.

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear season two #the bear season 2 #the bear s2 #the bear luca #Luca the bear #will poulter #luca the bear x reader #Luca the bear x black! reader #carmy berzatto #sydney amadu #marcus the bear #summer prompts #queued

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bradshawsbaby · 10 months

Text

Letters to My Love // Part IX

Dream A Little Dream Of Me

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Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 3.2k

Author’s Note: Bobby and Peach’s story continues! Hope you all enjoy this latest installment!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story.

The title of this chapter comes from the popular song of the same name. Click here to listen to the first ever recording of the song from 1931!

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to my dear friend, @luminousnotmatter. Clara, thank you, thank you, thank you for your support of this story!

Warnings: Alternating POV, allusions to the physical and emotional cost of war, lots of sweet fluff.

April 28, 1943

Dearest Peach (or is it Cookie now?),

I have to tell you, this game of tag might just be the best version of the game I’ve ever played. I sure was surprised—and pleased, believe me—when I opened your last letter to find another photograph inside. The other fellas on the carrier are starting to grumble about how they hardly ever get photos from their girls back home, so you’ve managed to make me quite a big shot around here. Tommy Boy told me just the other day that word’s spreading about how “Floyd’s always getting these pictures from a pretty girl back stateside.” In all honesty, I think they’re just shocked that a gal as pretty as you would be writing to a boring guy from the sticks like me.

Now I don’t want you to think I’m gloating or anything when you send me photos, Peach—although your pretty face DOES deserve to be on billboards, in my humble opinion. It’s just that carriers are smaller than you’d think, in terms of news spreading around, It doesn’t help matters that Benny is always looking over my shoulder during Mail Call, and that when I opened your most recent letter, he stood up on our bench and shouted “Bobby Boy’s got another picture, fellas!” Don’t you worry, though. I tucked your photo into my pocket, right over my heart, and wouldn’t let any of the others see it, no matter how much they begged. Serves them right for being so nosy.

All that to say, it’s a wonderful picture and it brought a big old smile to my face to see how happy you all looked at Christmastime. Please send my highest compliments to Dottie. You and your sister look so much alike, you could both be Hollywood starlets. I especially love your matching smiles—prettier than the angel on top of the Christmas tree. And Frankie is the spitting image of Paddy, my goodness! It’s funny, Paul, Jr. looks just like Paul, too. Maybe the boys will both grow up and go to Annapolis together. You know, following in their fathers’ footsteps and all that. Wouldn’t that be something if they both joined the Navy one day?

Speaking of us “squids,” as our Marine brothers are so wont to call us, I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed the photos that I sent with my last letter. Tommy Boy and Benny have been bragging to anyone who will listen that you have our pictures displayed on your desk. I made the mistake of letting them know that you think they’re very handsome, but don’t worry, I kept it just between us that you think I’m the most handsome. They’re good guys and I wouldn’t want to go bruising their egos or anything like that.

Mike is the name of the fella on board who has the camera and took the pictures for us. He’s hoping he can get his hands on some more film soon so that he can take some more photographs while we’re over here. He likes to send them back home to his fiancee in Arkansas. He’s a solid guy, Mike is. He even told me he’d be happy to take some more pictures for me to send to you when he’s able to—if you’d like that, that is.

I’m glad to know that you don’t mind me writing a little bit about you to my family. I received a letter from my mother the same day I received your letter, and she said you sound like the loveliest girl and that you’re more than welcome on the Floyd farm anytime you happen to find yourself in Linn County, Iowa. When I was writing back to her, I didn’t have the heart to tell her that nobody just so happens to find themselves in Linn County, Iowa. But the offer still stands! My mama would be more than happy to bake you all the pumpkin pies your heart desires. And she’d be more than happy to hear about that peach cobbler recipe, too!

Paul wanted me to tell you that you have no reason to be embarrassed about the punch spill, and that, in fact, you should put it out of your mind completely. He’s sitting across me from right now as I write this, writing his own letter back home to Natasha and the kids. Clara’s just learning to recognize her letters and read some basic words, and Paul, Jr. can’t read at all yet of course, so Paul includes little drawings for them when he writes. Natasha says they love them, and that Clara always carries his letters around when they’re running errands to show off to all the neighbors. “Look at Daddy’s pictures!” she tells them. He really is a good artist, you know. One of these days, I’m going to have him draw something for you. Anything in particular you’d like to see?

Oh, please don’t be embarrassed about my overhearing that conversation! That’s the last thing I want you to feel. You have no reason to be embarrassed, Peach. If anything, it’s that Eddie guy who should feel embarrassed for doing that to a lady. But like you—and Dottie—said, everything happens for a reason. I believe that, too. And I believe that good things can come out of even the worst circumstances. Take this war, for example. It’s awful. There’s no sugarcoating it or making it sound better than it is. It’s just plain awful. In the time I’ve been over here, I’ve seen and heard things that I’ll never be able to forget, things that make you question how human beings can do such things to one another. But I’ve also seen instances of such heroism and bravery, of people doing all they can to stick their necks out for each other and see each other home safely, and I think that that’s got to count for something, too. Don’t you think so, Peach? I know you’re all doing your part back home, too, and that means the world to us over here. We can feel it, and we appreciate it more than you can know. So you see? Good things can still come out of the hard times.

Like you and me meeting, for another thing. I can’t say that I’m grateful for this war, but I am thankful that it brought us together and allowed our paths to cross that night in Charleston. I’ll always be thankful for that, Peach. Not a day goes by that I don’t count my lucky stars that Paul finally convinced me to go to that dance that night. It was the last place in the world I wanted to be, but it turned out to be just the place I needed to be. Everything happens for a reason, right?

Speaking of that night at the dance, I had a dream the other night about dancing with you, Peach. We were at the USO dance at first, but then we were suddenly on the beach. As a farm boy from Iowa, you can imagine that I haven’t spent much time on the beach in my lifetime. But I suppose my subconscious remembers all the beaches I saw in Charleston, because there we were, dancing in the sand while the waves were crashing in. Do you like going to the beach? Like I said, there’s none in landlocked Iowa, but I’d be more than happy to let you be my tour guide when it comes to the best beaches South Carolina and Georgia have to offer.

It’s funny, I don’t usually remember my dreams, but I remember that one quite vividly. I woke up thinking I could still taste saltwater on my tongue and feel you in my arms. Maybe that sounds a little silly, but it’s true. It was the best dream I’ve ever had, I’m sure of it.

It does sound like little Frankie is quite the mischief-maker! Hiding keys already? Something tells me he’s going to give Dottie and Paddy a run for their money when he gets older! From everything you’ve told me, I really do think he and Paul, Jr. would make the best of friends. I imagine the two of them would get into even more mischief than Paul and I did when we were growing up!

Gosh, I wish more than anything that I could be there dancing with you, Peach. But I’m holding the thought of you dancing to “We’ll Meet Again” real close to my heart until we really can meet again. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hear that song without thinking of you now.

Please do keep me updated on your Victory Garden efforts! I’m looking forward to hearing all about it. Believe me, no one could have a browner thumb than me—just ask Paul, Natasha, and pretty much my entire family—so I’m sure you and Dottie will do a wonderful job!

And Happy Belated Easter, Peach! I hope you had a lovely day with your family. We actually had a bit of exciting news that reached us on Easter Sunday. The Royal Navy sent word that they managed to sink a German U-boat off the coast of [REDACTED], which is hopefully a good sign for all the rest of us. I hope this war comes to an end soon. It feels like we’ve been fighting forever.

I hope that the South Carolina sunshine is treating you right, and that you’re safe and well. I can’t wait until your next letter arrives (I’ll try to keep Benny from looking over my shoulder next time).

Most Truly Yours,

Bobby

May 24, 1943

My Dear Bobby,

Don’t worry, it’s still Peach to you, and it always will be. Frankie is learning so many new words every day that I’m sure I’ll only be Aunt Cookie for a little while longer. But I’d like to stay Peach for a good long while, if that’s alright with you.

I’m sorry to disappoint all the fellas on the carrier—particularly Benny—by not including any new photographs with this letter. I’ll try to amend that next time. But I absolutely do not believe that it should come as any kind of shock to anyone that you and I write to one another, Bobby. Boring? Who would dare call you boring? I’ll not have you talking about yourself like that, Robert Floyd, do you hear me? I could just as easily say that the people back in Charleston would be shocked to learn that a handsome naval aviator is writing to a girl as shy and mousey as me, but I know you wouldn’t like that. Just like I don’t like hearing you talk badly about yourself. So let’s promise one another we won’t do that anymore, hm?

Dottie sends profuse thanks for your sweet words about the Christmas photo—she actually blushed when I told her what you’d written! And I could tell that Paddy was all puffed up with pride when I told him that you thought Frankie looked just like him. Dottie agrees with you wholeheartedly, by the way. “Both my boys are so handsome!” she declared. I think Paddy blushed a little bit at that, though he’d never admit it.

My goodness, imagine Frankie and Paul, Jr. both joining the Navy when they’re older? I think you’re quite right that they’d make excellent friends—but heaven help the Navy with the double trouble those two would bring with all their mischief-making!

By the way, I asked Paddy about that nickname you said the Marines like to use—squids? I’ve never seen my brother-in-law turn so red so fast! “Oh, what do they know?” he demanded, waving his hands in the air. “They’re just a bunch of jarheads!” Squids? Jarheads? I never realized there was such a rivalry between you! No wonder the sailors and the Marines seem to stay on opposite sides of the room whenever the USO hosts an event! I hope you know that I don’t think you’re a squid, Bobby. But if you were, you’d be the cutest squid in the seven seas.

You’re very considerate not to bruise Tommy Boy’s and Benny’s egos, so thank you very much for keeping our little secret. Emily came over the other day—she’s still so excited about the wedding and she wanted me to help her go over some details—and she saw the pictures of you and the boys on my desk. She remembered Paul from the night of the dance, and she thought the rest of you looked familiar, too. She said to pass along her best wishes, and I passed along your congratulations on her and Eddie’s engagement. I hope you don’t mind.

That’s very sweet of your friend, Mike to offer to take more photos for you! Of course I’d love for you to send more, if you’re able to! Being able to see that you’re okay, even with all the miles and a war between us, makes me so happy.

Your mama is most generous and kind to extend that invitation! While I can’t say that I have any reason to be in Linn County, Iowa at the moment, I will be certain to look up the Floyd family farm if ever I should happen to be in town. And please let your mama—and all of your family—know that, should they ever find themselves in Charleston, South Carolina, the Sheridan residence is always open to them. Your mama and I can swap recipes. I know Dottie would love that.

I couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear when I read the part of your letter where you talked about Paul’s drawings for Clara and Paul, Jr.! What a wonderful father he is! And an artist, too? I’m very impressed! Not to mention thankful to him for his unending kindness. I can see why the two of you are the best of friends—you both have the same good hearts. Hmm, now as for what kind of drawing I would like, I suppose that would depend on what Paul specializes in. Does he do portraits? In that case, I’d like to see him draw one of you. Does he draw cartoons? I can only imagine how he’d portray a conversation between Tommy Boy and Benny. If neither of those, then perhaps Paul can draw me some peaches—I always think of you now, Bobby, whenever I eat them.

Oh, Bobby. Yes, I do believe it counts for something when people try to hold onto their goodness in the midst of so much evil and bad. We know so little of what you’re facing over there beyond the small bits that we read in the newspaper or hear on the radio. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to be living in it every day. I wish that I could hold you tight and make all the bad memories go away. But since I can’t, I’m glad to know that you’re able to find the glimpses of good where you can.

Without a doubt, everything happens for a reason, and I believe there’s a reason that you and I met that night, Bobby. Maybe a reason that’s bigger than you and I can ever understand. I’m grateful that our paths crossed, too. So, so grateful. I know this might sound silly considering we’ve only actually been together in person for a few hours, but you’ve helped me come out of my shell more than you can know. I’ve always been so shy, Bobby. Painfully so. It’s not easy for me to talk to new people, or people that I don’t know very well. It’s especially not easy for me to talk to handsome boys like you. But that night at the dance and during our walk on King Street—you made me feel seen, Bobby. And heard. Hardly anyone outside my family has ever made me feel that way. And then we started writing letters to each other and you’ve just been so easy to talk to, so easy to share my heart with. Thank you for that, Bobby. It means more to me than you can possibly imagine. So yes, I thank my lucky stars for that night, too.

Did you really have a dream about me? I’m blushing to think so, but now I don’t feel so shy to tell you that I’ve dreamed about you, too. In my dream, we were back at the ice cream parlor on King Street, sharing an ice cream sundae with lots of whipped cream and cherries on top. When you come home, we’ll have to take a drive to Folly Beach and get ice cream on the pier. I’ll be counting down the days until it happens!

Now speaking of our Victory Garden, Dottie and I are quite proud of the effort we put in this year! You’d think the two of us were a couple of regular old farm girls. We spent about a week or so clearing out the beds from last year and resoiling them. One of our neighbors, Mrs. Patterson had a beautiful garden last year, so she gave us a lot of helpful advice. We ended up planting beans, carrots, cucumbers, and tomatoes. It’s still a little too early to tell how they’ll end up, but they look promising so far! I think you’d be proud of us!

Things here on the homefront have been a little tricky as of late. I’m not sure if word has gotten over to you boys across the Atlantic, but some of the coal miners went on strike last month. It caused a bit of a crisis with regard to production and manufacturing. President Roosevelt delivered a fireside chat discussing the crisis earlier this month. He tried to remind all of us that it’s our patriotic duty to continue working and to do what we can for the war effort. I think Paddy was a bit worried about it, but the government has since taken control of the coal mines, and so we haven’t heard much more about it.

I want so badly to do my part for the war effort, Bobby. I think of you and Paul and Tommy Boy and Benny and all the others, risking your lives across the ocean to defend all of us back home. I want to do something, no matter how small, that can contribute and make a difference. There have been lots of women going to work in the factories ever since we entered the war. Some of them are filling their husbands’ and brothers’ positions while they’re off fighting. Paddy mentioned that they’re actually looking to fill civilian positions at Naval Air Station Charleston. It’s harder because of the background checks required, but I’d have a leg up, being Paddy’s sister-in-law. I’ve been thinking about asking Paddy to help me apply for a position. Do you think I should, Bobby? If it could be of any help to you and all the other men, I’d really like to give it a try. What do you think?

That’s wonderful news about the Royal Navy! Every time I hear about the Allies pushing further into Europe, or defeating our enemies in some way, it gives me a thrill of hope that maybe this all really will be over soon. I hope so, Bobby. I really hope so.

Even though there’s a few thousand miles between us, I hope you can feel all the good thoughts I’m sending your way. I can’t wait until I get your next letter. I always look forward to them.

Until next time, Bobby!

Most Affectionately Yours,

Peach

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