#really not here for daisy being away from the team so often

[cosmicbucky]

daisies and dances lead to heartfelt romances

summary: you offer to take bucky out a few times so he can practice what it's like to date in the modern world. unbeknownst to each other, both your offer and his acceptance have an ulterior motive

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3845

part: one

warnings: minor swearing, fluff, tony is a dick with a hidden agenda, some angst, soft/shy/grumpy bucky, pet names/nicknames, unknown but mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, sad bucky, mentions of bucky's struggles

a/n: this is planned to be at least two parts, maybe three.

big thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for encouraging and supporting me with this!!

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The compound was quiet, softly lit to guide your way to the kitchen. It was late in the night, but not too late that everyone was asleep. Your socked feet were silent on the cold floor, and as you made your way to the fridge you heard laughter coming from the main entertainment room. You smiled to yourself as you went to grab a bottle of juice, focusing in on the conversation being held.

"Come on man! You can't be serious," you heard Sam say, laughter clear in his voice.

"Just drop it, Sam," Bucky replied, warning clear in his voice.

The smile slipped from your face as you closed the fridge with a sigh. You knew that tone. It wasn't Bucky's patented 'my god these people are so annoying' tone. It was his 'the next person who says something is getting thrown into a wall' tone. Which meant he was actually upset over whatever the conversation was about. It was rare for him to really get worked up beyond his usual moody demeanor, and you couldn't help the worry that surged through you.

"Oh, no. No, no this is way too good to drop, Barnes," Tony chimed in with a laugh. You could just picture the smirk on his face, and your feet moved quickly to carry yourself towards the conversation.

Bucky noticed you approach from where he sat, and he sent you a pleading look. Please help me, his eyes screamed.

"Don't tell me you guys are picking on Bucky again," you said, trying to sound casual as you leaned against the wall.

"You mean grumpy mcgee over here? You bet your ass we are," Tony replied happily.

You sighed, rolling your eyes at him. "Why now?"

"This dude can't date to save his life!" Sam spoke up, overly amused about it.

Bucky sank further into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he zoned out to somewhere far away, and you felt a pang in your heart at the sight- how can such a large man manage to look so small; so defeated?

"You guys are roasting him because he hasn't been on a date yet?" you asked, your annoyance about it clear in your voice.

It may be a little strange, but you had always felt protective over Bucky. The team often ganged up on him, and besides Steve, you were his closest friend - the two of you took a little while to warm up to each other, but once the ice thawed the two of you were rarely seen without the other. Now, it's not to say you never joined in on teasing him - because you did, quite often - but you knew when to stop. Perhaps it was because he would open up to you about some of the things he felt insecure about during your moonlit talks, the two of you tucked safely under blankets or hidden away somewhere in the compound as you spoke what neither of you could say in the light of day. Or, maybe it was because you just knew him well enough to know whether a topic would upset him or not. Whatever the reason may be for it, you always knew what was okay to say and what wasn't. Bucky would never be able to say how much he appreciated you for that.

"Tinman's been on dates, didn't you know?" Tony asked, grinning at you mischievously. "He just blew them all."

You tried not to let the hurt show on your face. He's been on dates? God, of course he has, look at him.

"Okay, and? You've never had bad dates before?" you asked, letting the anger start to shine through. "Just leave him alone."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Awe, look at that. Mommy dearest to the rescue once again, huh, Barnes?"

You stood up straight as rage surged through you, opening your mouth to tell him where to go. Before you could, Bucky's voice rang out: "Watch your fucking mouth, Stark. Or I'll shut you up myself," he warned, voice eerily calm as he glared at Tony.

Bucky was never really one to speak up when others came at him, more or less just taking it with an eye roll, clenched jaw, or tight smile as they all had their fun. However, once the comments turned towards you, as they always seemed to if you were around (and let's be honest, how often were you not around?), he was quick on his feet to stop them in their tracks, making the room feel so tense that no one else said anything for fear the air around them would actually suffocate them if they opened their mouth.

"Here we go again," you heard Sam mutter to himself. "Alright, I'm out of here. See you guys later," he added, walking out of the room with his hands up in a display of surrender.

He gave you a knowing look as he walked out, ignoring your questioning gaze and instead giving you a loving pat on the shoulder as he passed by. With him now out of sight, you turn your attention back to Tony, waiting for what was to come next.

"Look, all I'm saying-" Tony started, waving his glass around emphatically - amber liquid on the verge of splashing everywhere.

"No one cares what you're saying, Tony," you interrupted, already exasperated from the interaction.

He held up his hand, pointing a finger at you. "Come on, princess. You really gonna take away my fun? Under my own roof?"

"Yes, I am. Can't you take a day off from being a complete dick to him? Just once? We've all seen this show before, Tony, and it always ends the same way," you said, walking further into the room to snatch the glass from his hand, glaring at him as you did so. "And don't call me princess," you seethed, slamming the glass down on the side table behind you.

You didn't want to hate Tony, in all honesty you truly did love him. At the end of the day he was your family, and family wasn't perfect. However, you couldn't keep down the small bubbles of hatred that boiled inside you whenever he started to target Bucky. You didn't see him as family when he waved his disdain for the soldier around like a kite in the wind; you just saw him as a rich douchebag picking on someone beneath him. You hated the way he treated Bucky, and you absolutely loathed the way he made Bucky's voice tremble ever so slightly with self doubt when he lays in your arms in the dead of night, recounting the things Tony said to him that keep him awake, that make old wounds reopen. You loved Tony, but his hatred for Bucky also made you hate him.

"No? Do you only like it when RoboCop calls you that?" Tony asked calmly, a malicious glint shining in his eyes, his smirk growing wider when he saw your expression. 

You felt the blood rush to your face, recounting a few of the times that the name had slipped through Bucky's lips; though it was from the haze of sleep and moments of vulnerability, there were few memories you cherished more. "Go to sleep now, princess. I'll be here when you wake up." "Thank you for staying with me, princess." "You're safe now, princess." 

"Yeah, I hear a lot of things around here that I probably shouldn't. Now, why don't you lighten up and let me say my piece, princess?" Tony continued with a grin, and it took everything in you to not smack it off his face.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you," Bucky suddenly spat, making you jump slightly - he had fallen so silent you half forgot he was even there. The menace that dripped from his words sent a chill down your spine, and you sent one last glare at Tony before you glanced over your shoulder.

One look over at Bucky as he jumped from the couch told you he had never been more serious. His jaw was tight as his lips pressed together in a fine line, his fists clenched so tightly that the mechanisms in his left arm started to whir and the veins in his right arm shone prominently, his whole body tense as his chest heaved. He took two quick steps forward, but the second you raised your hand to his chest he stopped.

"Buck, it's alright," you said calmly. You knew it wasn't - you were angry, hurt, embarrassed, and a million other things; but you couldn't let Bucky in on that. You had to brush it all off so you could be the calm that Bucky needed in order to tame the never ending storm raging furiously inside him.

Bucky looked down at you with narrowed eyes, as if he didn't understand a word you said. "I'm supposed to just let him talk to you like that?"

If it weren't for the seriousness of the moment, you would have blushed from his words. Instead, you huffed and lightly shoved him away. "Yes, because you're feeding into exactly what he wants, Bucky. You know all he wants is to mess with you."

"Not true," Tony chimed in from behind you. "I want lots of things, pumpkin. In fact, one of those things is Pepper, so I'll be going now. And hey, when you and soldier boy here finally get married, just remember - I'm ordained."

You spared a glance in his direction just in time to see his shit-eating grin before he turned and sauntered happily out of the room.

"Can you two ever give me a fucking break?" you scolded, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Aw don't you start now, too," Bucky whined, tossing his head back slightly as he sighed, making his way back to the couch.

You sighed as well, following in his wake to plop down beside him. You didn't need to say anything, he took one look at you and knew the question that was already dancing on your tongue: what was it about this time?

"Look, it doesn't matter," he huffed out, slumping his shoulders as he looked down at his hands resting on his lap, wringing his fingers together. 

“Come on, when have I ever let it go that easily?” you asked, nudging his shoulder. 

He let out a humourless chuckle, the corners of his mouth flicking upwards for the briefest of moments as the memories of the countless times you two have been in this situation flashed through his mind. 

You could see the turmoil on his face, and you knew he was trying to find a way to express what was going on, so you sat patiently and waited for him to find the proper words. 

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” he finally settled on, the words coming out in a rushed breath. 

Before you could question him, he carried on with a frown, his brows knit together. “It was so much easier back then, you know? Flash a smile, go to the fair, wear the uniform, whatever. I never had to think about it, but now there’s- there’s just so much…. so much expectation. You bring flowers and you care too much, you don’t bring flowers and you don’t care enough. I-it’s like everything that I do, I should have done the opposite. I can’t get anything right.”

You sat in silence for a moment, his words bouncing around in your head. Each syllable he spoke fractured your heart until it was shattered into bits; but all you cared about as you looked at the broken man in front of you was putting him back together, hoping that your words and your comfort and your care would be enough to put together the delicate pieces of him - the pieces that broke off every time he doubted himself, every time he remembered his past, every time he did something wrong on a mission - the pieces that you picked up and kept safe inside of yourself until you had the chance to give them back to him, gluing them on with whispers of affirmation and promises that everything would be okay in time.

“You never mentioned any of this before,” you said tentatively, the unspoken words why did you keep this from me? hanging in the air. “Is this what they were teasing you about? Your struggle to figure out how to date again?”

He let out a huff of air as he slung his head back to rest against the back of the couch, shaking it lightly as he stared up at the ceiling, his jaw flexing with contemplation. “I didn’t want it to be a big deal, but then Jackass 1 and Jackass 2 found out and ran with it.”

“Okay, well.. walk me through it. Is there someone you want to take out on a date right now? Maybe I can give you some ideas,” you offered softly, the words tasting bitter in your mouth as you spoke them. 

He groaned, running his hands over his face before smacking them back down on his legs, his palms dragging across the fabric covering his thighs for a few seconds; a habit, you noticed, that he often did when he was nervous or uncomfortable. “No,” he said flatly, biting down on his tongue to keep the words yes, my delicate little flower, I want to take you out on a date from tumbling out of his mouth. 

“No?” you echoed, surprised by the response. 

He nodded his head in confirmation. “No,” he repeated, looking at you. Taking in your expression, he carried on. “Like, no there isn’t anyone. I don’t- I didn’t even want to go on those dates, but… I couldn’t- I mean, I kinda just…. felt like I needed to."

There was so much he left unsaid at this moment. So much he wanted to say, needed to say - not only just to get it off his chest, but because he believed that you deserved to know. Every time he looked at you he had the burning desire to bare his soul to you, to tell you all the things he kept buried away in the deep recesses of his mind, locked away in a vault only you could open. He wanted to tell you that he still feels so out of place, that most days when he was out in this new world he suddenly resembled a child who was lost amongst a crowd of scary and unfamiliar things - desperately searching for something he recognized that he could cling to. He wanted to tell you that you were the familiar thing he found to cling to, that he carried you in his head and in his heart every time he was out; that when things got too overwhelming he closed his eyes and recalled the encouraging words you always told him, that when that wasn't enough he called you with some lame excuse just so he could ground himself with your voice - "Hey, doll. What was the name of that bakery you took me to the other week? I'm thinking of getting more of those cookies we liked." He had saved the bakery's location to his phone (something he knew how to do thanks to you) the second he saw how your eyes sparkled when you got there, just to make sure he could always find it and pick things up for you. "Hey, so, I just got yelled at because I walked by and ruined someone's… what the fuck was it? It has to do with a clock or something? Does that sound like something you know? Please tell me what the hell that is because I feel like I'm going insane." He knew what it was. He had downloaded the app after he witnessed how much it made you laugh, and he had an endless amount of saved videos that he thought you would like, but for some reason wasn't brave enough to show you. "Okay, I’m out shopping - and don't laugh because this is a serious question - do you think I would look good in pink?" He vividly remembered your words from a few months ago, when he was burritoed in your fuzzy pink blanket during movie night, and you told him so casually that he should start wearing pink because it complimented his eyes. He wanted to tell you that you were the only thing in this universe that could still the incessant maelstrom that was his mind. That when he was out on those dates the storm raged on more intensely than ever, but one look or word from you and everything was quiet; not even a trace of rain. 

He wanted to tell you. But he didn't. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Oh, but he needed to- 

"You wanted to try to fit in," your gentle voice pulled him from his thoughts, his head snapping to look at you. To see your eyes, full of understanding. To see your lips, pulled into a sad smile - but not one of pity, one that said all you wanted was to help him through yet another battle he was fighting with himself.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah. I guess I just figured.. well, I don't know. Everyone kept saying how I needed to get out there. That dating was the next best step I could take to try and….. to- to understand how to live in this world better. I just wanted things to make sense again, but now I'm even more lost and confused than before I even went on those god damn dates."

You tried to keep your face even, to not let him see how sad it made you to hear the way his voice wavered when he told you what was going on. To not let him know that you sensed how small he was feeling, how even though his broad frame still shadowed you as you both sat there, he had never seemed so small.

"Well…. take me on a date," you suggested, not taking the time to even think about it. 

Bucky swore the whole room started to spin. His mouth ran dry and his heart hammered so heavily in his chest that he was convinced you could hear it. He knew he heard you wrong, he wasn't lucky enough to have a girl like you. The world was cruel, and he knew that the one sliver of hope that he had for a truly blissful life would never be fully his. That one day it would leave him, just like everything else throughout the years, as you found yourself in the arms of someone else. He would never have you the way he wanted you, the way he needed you. He knew that. So he had to have misheard you. "Come again?" 

Your whole face lit up when he asked this, and Bucky could feel himself coming undone. Your hands on his arm when you grabbed him in excitement suddenly felt so different than in the past. It used to feel warm, comforting, calming; but for some reason this time it sent a jolt of fire and electricity through him, and he never wanted to lose that feeling. He wanted to feel it again, feel it always, feel it forever. 

“Yeah! Oh, it would be great, Buck! We can go on a few dates, and I can help you find your footing with it all before you get back out there,” you said excitedly. You purposely overinflated your smile so he wouldn’t see the way your lips faltered with the struggle of getting out the last part, diverting your gaze for the smallest of moments so he wouldn’t see the way your eyes dimmed with the thought of him being with someone else. 

Bucky shifted where he sat, opening and closing his mouth a few times as his mind went into overdrive trying to think of a response. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to say yes, but then there was a small piece of him that knew it wouldn’t end well - the piece that knew how he truly felt about you, the piece that knew it would easily be tricked into thinking these dates actually meant something to you; because lord knows they would mean the world and more to him. Bucky wanted to say yes, but he knew he had to say no. He had to say no because it wouldn’t be fair to you - you were offering to help him and he would be taking advantage of your kindness, using it to get to see you in a light he’d never be able to otherwise. He had to say no because saying yes could ruin everything. He may not be able to go back to the way it was before these dates, too addicted to ever quit you. He had to say no, for your sake, because it was a selfless offer. Bucky, however, was selfish when it came to you. 

“You know, doll… that may not be the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” he had said, giving you a lopsided smile. Your eyes lit up once more as you grinned at him, and no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure he couldn’t help but mirror your expression, feeling as giddy as he did the first time he was allowed to stay up late as a kid. 

“Excellent choice, Barnes,” you said playfully. “I swear you won’t regret it, it’ll be really fun. Just you and me, no expectations.”

Bucky nodded, shifting his head to scratch his jaw so you wouldn’t see the light frown that danced across his lips for a moment. “No expectations,” he repeated, careful to keep his voice level. “I can work with that.”

“Good,” you said softly, nodding a little. “I’ll give you some time to think about it and plan something, and you can just let me know whenever you wanna go on date number one.”

He was silent for a minute, taking the time to carefully churn the words over in his mind before answering. He didn’t want to make it obvious, but he knew immediately what he wanted to do. How could he not? All he ever did was look for new things he thinks you’d like, find himself dreaming of where he’d take you if he ever got the chance. Sure, you guys have done lots of things together before - brunches, lunches, dinners, movie nights, events, parties; you name it. Though there was never any meaning with any of those, it was always just friends spending time together. How were either of you supposed to know you each wished they meant something more? Heaven forbid you two would actually say how you felt.

"No need," Bucky said, rising from the couch with a small chuckle, looking down at you with the smile he reserved only for you. The one that skillfully said everything and nothing all at once. “Lunch. Tomorrow.”

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x female reader #winter solider x reader #bucky x reader fluff #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky fic #bucky barnes au #bucky angst #bucky and reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes reader insert #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you #james barnes fanfic

[woso-dreamzzz]

Power

Katie McCabe x Reader

Summary: You and Katie both know who really holds the power

It was always funny to see the two of you together, going back as far as your childhood.

Katie had always been the more tomboyish of the pair of you, always up to wrestle with the older kids or go careening down the hill on her bike. You were slower in comparison, taking your time and amusing yourself by playing clapping games or making daisy chains.

You shouldn't have worked as well as you did but it must have been fate.

When Katie moved to England, you came with her. There was never any debate about it. Wherever she went, you went.

Football was her passion and you were happy to go along for the ride. She'd found a home at Arsenal and you were more than happy to tag along.

You worked at the local florist, surrounded by flowers everyday. You had beehives at the back of the garden. Your backyard was picture perfect and you grew your own fruits and vegetables.

No one expected someone like you to be engaged to someone like Katie.

"Mate," Leah said as she relaxed back in her seat," Your girl's a dream. I mean, what can't she do?"

Katie tilted her head back so she could peer into the kitchen where you were sectioning out the cake you'd made earlier.

It wasn't often that you two hosted bonding nights but, when you did, everyone came along. Your Pa was a chef so you'd picked up a few things along the way.

Your meals were the stuff of legend between the Arsenal team, with the experience being passed down from older teammates to younger ones as they all sat waiting for the invitation.

"Nothing," Katie replied as you momentarily got distracted by rearranging the bouquet that lived on the windowsill.

"You hit the jackpot," Jen said," I mean, I don't know how you control yourself. If I had a girl like that to come home to everyday, I'd never leave the bed."

"Hey!" Katie said, shoving her friend," She's my fiancée! Not yours!"

Jen laughed, tipping her head back. "I'm just saying! Come on, Katie, you can't say that you've never considered just skipping practice."

Katie winked. "I never said that. I just said to stop fantasising about my girl!"

"So you would stay in bed with her all the time?" Leah teased.

Katie smirked. "You know I would but you know," She shrugged," One of us has to be the breadwinner." She flexed jokingly. "I make enough that she could be my pretty housewife if she really wanted to."

"Real macho, McCabe," Leah said," You're forgetting we once saw you drop a weight on your foot. You're not that smooth."

"I think y/n would disagree with you there." Katie winked. "I'm super smooth. It's why she fell in love with me."

"She fell in love with you because you seduced her, I reckon. All this power is going to your head. Occasional Arsenal captain, Ireland captain and now you're saying you're the man of the house."

"I'm absolutely saying that." Katie flexed again. "I mean, check out these muscles."

"Alright," Jen laughed," Put those guns away before you take someone's eye out."

Admittedly, Katie knew she was talking like she was some kind of hormonal uni boy but she couldn't help herself. She was completely relaxed here, in her own home with her teammates scattered around and you serving everyone cake. She was definitely bigging herself up here but she didn't want to lose face in front of her friends, especially as you breezed back into the room with pre-sliced cake and a pile of plates.

"I hope you're all able to eat this," You said," I know you're meant to be on diets but, surely, you can cheat for the day."

Katie grinned, drunk on the feeling of puffed up pride at everyone's compliments about you. She stood and rested her hand a little too low on your ass to be decent in public.

"Course we can, babe," She said, emboldened by the way you didn't say anything as she squeezed lightly," Everyone loves your baking."

You sent her an unreadable look but allowed her touching, helping everyone get a slice before settling on her lap in the loveseat.

Katie smirked at Jen and Leah, who were sending her similar cocky looks, and she finally moved her hand from your ass to rest splayed out on your hip, dragging you ever closer.

You fed Katie bites of your own slice automatically as she sat manspread on the loveseat, still talking amongst her teammates.

When there was a lull in the conversation, you brought your lips to her ear.

"Vey macho, Katie," You said, watching her throat bob in horror when she realised that you had heard everything," A real man of the house."

"Babe," She murmured back, eyes darting back and forth between everyone to make sure none of them were looking," I-"

"I'm not going to say anything," You said, shutting her up by pressing another forkful of cake into her mouth," I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of all of the new signings."

"Babe," She said again, shifting a bit uncomfortably as you put more food into her mouth.

"Shh," You said softly," Don't talk just yet." You leaned a bit closer, putting the plate down on your lap so you had a hand free to push Katie's hand to grip your hip harder. "You have your fun showing off for your friends. You do whatever you want but let me make this clear. If you have to be reminded who's really in charge here then I will make sure to remind you. Understand?"

"I understand."

"Good." You smiled and drew away, picking up the plate and nudging Katie's lips with a cake filled fork again. "Open up, baby. I spent a lot of time on this. Make sure to eat your fill."

#woso x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

[l0rd-0f-c0ws]

I traced the strings back to YOU, the missfire creator, and now I have two things to say.

1) THIS SHIP IS SO WONDERFUL EUGHHGFDHGFGFG OH MYGOD 3RD EYE OPENED. Thank you so much for throwing this rarepair in my radar.

2) Do you have any missfire/cesium headcanons?? I'd LOVE to hear some :3c

I FINALLY HAVE GOTTEN MY BRAIN TO WORK ENOUGH TO ANSWER THIS HI HI HI HELLO :) I am in fact no the creator tho that would be @soupsy-daisy who wrote This fic!! I just got VERY autistic about the pairing and was the first person to suggest a name for them (I am the cesium person idr who came up with missfire rn but its also v cute :) )

as for headcanons here are some !!! (Under the cut for those who don't want to see my rambles :) )

Miss Pauling has (somewhat) learned all the languages the Mercs know! this was a job requirement as she had to make sure they weren't keeping secrets, but she does enjoy it. Pyro CAN speak they just don't like taking off their mask nor do they like shouting for people to be able to hear them (legit i have a friend who tried playing dnd in one of those and half the time he had to yell so i could hear him right next to me), so they use sign and writing stuff down to communicate a lot. She was the first person to be able to understand pyro using ASL and she was the one to encourage the team to learn.

Pyro has cronic pain (mecore) and often has flare ups after battles pretty often, and it makes it hard for them to move and shit because Their Legs are being Taken by the Demons. They tend to just try and power through despite feeling like their muscles are attacking them and refuse to tell medic because they feel like they'll just be dismissed as dramatic. While the other mercs have noticed something is up with Pyro when they get back to base most days, no one pushes them to hard on it since theyre always quick to deny any oddities in their behavior, but Ms. P knows because well... its her job to know. She did get them to go to medic and get pain meds to help, as well as laying down with them when its gets to be too much. she also got them a cane not long after to help them out as well as some cute stickers and stuff to decorate it with :)

Pauling hates loud noises if she doesn't feel she has any control over them (Mecore again). like a gunshot? eh half the time shes the one firing the gun, and if she isn't then soon she will be. But things like people suddenly shouting when she didn't expect it, thunder and fireworks, stuff like that will just really mess her up. Pyro is pretty neutral on loud noises like that (tho they LOVE thunder and storms in general) so typically they'll go find her and just sit down and enjoy the silence together away from that

its actually pyros love of storms that helps her enjoy them herself. I have to draw out my idea for this since its a very spesific gay little moment but she basically over their time together begins to associate rain with them and without realizing it starts to get just as excited about rain too :)

I can post some more hcs later but a lot of the ones I had to stop myself from posting are gonna be kinda mentioned in some fics im working on rn >:) Gonna finish chapter 2 of safe with me tonight hopefully so stay tuned for that!!

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #miss pauling #ms pauling #pyro #pyro tf2 #cesium #missfire #pyropauling #i love them dearly :) #my posts

[trashbag-baby666]

Bighorn Mountain Side-Luztoye.

Chapter Twelve.

Chapter Summary: George and Joe find themselves at the county fair, discussing whether Babe is a top or bottom with Bill.

WC: 2,600.

C/W: Mentions of Babe being a bottom and PTSD.

Series Masterlist!

George found himself in another whole new environment, again. This time around it was the County Fair.

But turns out it's a pretty big deal around here.

“So this is another idea of fun for you guys?” George looked at Joe as they walked up and down the barns of farm animals people were showing. There were cash prizes for the animals and stuff.

“Well we gotta go see Bill's cows and Babe and Genes ducks.” Joe explained to him as they walked in the cow barn. George laughed, shaking his head, sure this would be interesting.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Bill laughed as he came around a cow and walked over to them, “We're gonna turn this poor fella into a hick if ya keep bringing him to our shit kicker traditions.” Bill smacked George's shoulder.

Truly, George would do anything that made Joe happy. He cared so deeply for him, George would follow him to the end of the world blindly if that's what Joe wanted.

“I’m starting to feel like one, ya scallywag.” George said as he did a spot on impression of Bill, “Now where are the cows?”

“Oh fuck you too George Speirs,” Bill shook his head, “Now you got yourself a funny guy here Joe, he would’ve loved that goin.”

Joe cut him off, “The going away party for Babes virginity.” Joe laughed nervously, eyeing Bill like he was trying to make him explode with his brain.

“You guys had a party for when Babe lost his virginity?” George laughed, grabbing Joe's shoulder as he bent over, “Who was it?”

“Gene,” Joe looked at him as George straightened up, lifting an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me Babe didn’t get laid till like May? Of this year?” George snickered thinking about how the first time he had sex he was 14.

“Yep,” Bill smirked, “Do you think Gene is the one who usually, you know, like?” Bill thrusted his hips forward slightly.

This caused a fit of laughter between the other two boys. Joe and George grabbed at each other as they laughed, George falling into Joe slightly.

“What's so funny?” Bill furrowed his eyebrows, a look of confusion on his face.

“Babe is the biggest bottom any of us have ever met.” Joe exclaimed.

“Literally and figuratively,” George smiled. Babe would never hear the end from it about the fact he was like six foot, five inches.

“He’s on the basketball team,” Joe looked at George as he slipped an arm around George's waist.

“But he sucks at all things sports? Except for hockey.” George had seen the hockey trophies in Babes room. Plus Babe would often have a puck and a hockey stick out. Running around his driveway and George would watch him.

“He’s just there to psych out the other team because he's so tall but he's really good at blocking.” Joe explained to George, his mouth falling into an O shape.

“Now do ya fucker’s wanna come see my cows or are we gonna keep yabbin’ about, Heffron?” Bill asked.

“Let's go see Bill's dairy farm,” George patted Joe's back as they walked down the barn to where Bill had three of his cows. The ones that produce the most milk, was what Bill had told them last week.

“Now this is Bertha,” Bill patted the neck of a cow as she stood in a stall. Bertha had a pink ribbed tied around her neck.

“She's a distinguished lady,” George smiled.

“My sisters tie them on the cows for fair season, see look at Ms. Daisy.” Bill walked down another one and gave the other cow some pats.

“That color looks so good on you,” George said observing the blue jean colored ribbon tied on her.

“I never get used to ya guys yappin’ at your animals.” Bill shook his head. He saw the way Joe talked to his horses or Babes ducks or the other farm dogs at Genes grandmas. Or the way George would talk to Petunia and talk for her too, George was insistent Petunia talked like a southern bell.

“You don’t talk to yours, Bill?” George said almost like he was offended.

“Well like a normal person would? I don’t give them voices.” Bill pointed at the two of them.

“Okay, we should mooove on,” George chuckled at his own joke.

“Yeah we should go see Babes ducks, he said he edited photos of them as their designated Hunger Games character. I’m dying to see Peeta the duck as Peeta.” Joe took George's hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Yeah I gotta go talk to the judges and show them my girls.” Bill nodded seeing them off.

They walked into the small animal barn, “Hey guys!” Babe turned holding a duck with a blonde colored yarn wig on.

“That must be The one! And only! Peeta Quacklark,” George came over to him.

“I was just about to put him back in his cage,” Babe said, letting George pet his duck, then Gene came around them holding a duck with a long braided poorly made yarn wig.

“Quackniss Everdeen?!” George clasped his hands together, “Oh my gosh I’m such a huge fan! Joe take my photo with them!” Joe fished his phone from his pocket and pulled up the camera.

Gene and Babe held the ducks next to George as he took a photo op with them.

“Is Duckale Hawthorne here?” George smirked.

“No he had to stay back, he’s bad with other ducks.” Gene explained.

“Let's just say there's a reason his name is Duckale.” Babe nodded with a wink talking about the unlikable character that was Gale Hawthore.

“What’re you guys doing here?” Babe asked, putting the two ducks back in their cages.

“I’m here to show him what a good ol’ county fair was about. We just saw Bill and his cows.” Joe nodded.

“Oh you’ve never been to a fair?” Babe asked confusedly, tilting his head slightly.

“Well yeah I’ve been to a fair, just usually not ones with animals and belt buckles.” George snickered; he had noticed how everyone dressed like a shit kicker or people overly dressed up rhinestone button ups, cowboy hats, cowboy boots, giant bedazzled belt buckles.

Even Bill had on a big belt buckle with a cow on it.

Gene smirked a bit, “You shoulda saw how I felt when I moved here from France.” A more potenter accent poking out.

“You’re from France?” George asked point at the dark haired boy he didn’t know very well after all, “You don’t sound french? You sound like those guys in that one episode of Scooby Doo where they’re in New Orleans.”

“Well I’m actually from the bayou in Louisiana but I moved to France with my grandma when I was 12. I have dual citizenship, then we moved here last year.” Gene explained.

“That's really cool,” George nodded.

Gene checked his watch, “I gotta eat something.”

“Or else your diabetes will act up?” Babe asked more poking fun, most of the friend group made fun of Gene for being diabetic. It was all in good fun of course Gene made fun of it too.

“Yes Babe, or else my diabetes will act up.” Gene said with a tone of sarcasm.

“Do you guys wanna grab a bite to eat?” Babe asked.

“No, we ate before we came actually. We were going to go see my sisters and their horses. They have their little drill team performance going on soon.” Joe explained.

“Okay well are you guys going to the rodeo tonight?” Babe rocked back and forth on his feet.

“Yeah, we will!” George responded and looked at Joe, “Joe you stinker! You didn’t tell me they were doing a rodeo tonight.

Joe didn’t tell George because in four days it would be the anniversary of the bull crushing his leg at the rodeo last year. He still couldn’t really handle being at the rodeos without feeling nauseated and increasingly depressed.

“Oh I didn’t? I thought I told you last week,” Joe smiled nervously hoping they would buy it.

George shrugged, “Maybe you know how bad my memory is.”

“Well, we're gonna go eat and we will see you tonight.” Babe waved to them as he took Gene's hand and Babe literally skipped out.

George and Joe swung their hands as they walked over to the small arena where they showed their animals. A girl came around the corner with caramel brown hair and soft blue eyes. She sported bootcut jeans and some cowboy boots they could hear from a mile away. She also sported a large belt buckle and a baseball tee style shirt with the local 4H logo stamped on it.

“Oh hey Joe!” Frannie smiled walking over to the two of them.

“Hey Frannie, this is my boyfriend George, George this is Frannie Bill's girlfriend.” Joe introduced them.

“Well howdy there city boy, Bill told me lots about you.” Frannie shook his hand.

“Well hopefully good things,” George smiled, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“All good things, but if Bill gives you any trouble just ignore him. Love him but he's a dumb ass.” Frannie snickered.

“So are you guys gonna come see me ride tonight?” Frannie asked.

“At the rodeo? Yeah!” George looked between the two of them.

“Yeah! I barrel race.” Frannie nodded.

“That’s really cool, I’ve seen videos of it on tik tok.” George's friends seemed to have a really good taste in partners and people. George hasn't met a single person he didn’t like. Well except for this kid Herbert Sobel who worked at Home Depot and always had an attitude with him. The guys just said to not listen to him and that he was an asshole.

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys there.” Frannie waved to them and walked into the horse barn.

“She seems nice,” George nodded.

“She's the sweetest, she's exactly what Bill needs, a rational person.” Joe explained, “Plus Bill is super in love with her too.”

They sat on the bleachers as the kids waited in line to show their horses.

“Welcome out tonight Cody, Wyoming. You’ve found yourself at our local rodeo.” The announcer came over the loudspeakers as they sat in the bleachers at the rodeo. George was so excited for tonight and Joe thought it was beyond funny. He even talked him into wearing his belt buckle from his bull riding days.

“I’m so excited!” George snickered sitting down in between Joe and Babe.

“This is so funny,” Babe giggled, taking a handful of popcorn from George's bag, “Right Joe?”

Joe stared at the dirt all over, suddenly Joe could feel the wind get knocked out of him as he smacked against the ground the dirt flying all over.

Suddenly Joe felt the searing pain in his knee. Not even his knee, the phantom pains suddenly shooting up and down his leg.

Joe stood up, “ I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Joe stumbled over himself as he ran to the bathroom and yanked his jeans down, sitting down and pulling his leg off and then his liner. He breathed heavily as he closed his eyes and began stroking a single finger down his stump slowly. He tried to remind himself to take deep breaths as he felt himself slipping in and out of a PTSD induced panic. He squeezed his eyes shut as he added a second finger to gently massage himself till the phantom pains went away.

“Fuck,” Joe murmured to himself as he felt tears begin to prick his eyes from the pain.

He continued to rub the pads of his finger up and down till it became just a small tingling before he put his leg back on .

Joe walked out of the bathroom and continued trying to take even breathes. He walked down to their spot and saw Lieb and Web had joined them.

“Hey Joe,” Web waved as Joe came back over.

“Hey,” Joe smiled as he filed in and sat next to George.

“Are you okay darling?” George asked quietly as Joe sat back down.

“Yeah, just the fair food was making me feel all pukey.” Joe frowned, “I think I’ll be fine, can I have a drink of your water?”

“Yeah,” George bent down a bit and grabbed the metal water bottle off the ground.

“Thanks,” Joe took a few drinks and handed it back to George.

Bill came over to join them right before barrel racing started. Bill would help out with the animals. He always wanted to ride bulls but his mom wouldn’t let him.

“Hey guys,” Bill sat by them, “How's your night?”

“Fine,” Joe shrugged. Bill could tell something was up by Joe's body language and how he sounded.

Bill kept giving Joe side glances as the rodeo went on. Joe was stiff and he kept adjusting his position.

“Next up we have Cody’s under 18 barrel racing champion! Frannie Purnell and her horse Bonney!” The announcer called.

“Yeah Frannie!” Babe yelled.

“Frannie!” Bill cheered.

George watched in utter shock as Frannie raced the track. “Folks, we have our fastest time of the night so far! Frannie must be ready to defend her title with a time of 14.45 seconds!” The announcer called.

The guys all jumped up, “Way to go Frannie!” Babe and Gene yelled as they all cheered and clapped.

Joe sat back down and kept his eyes focused on pretty much anything except for the dirt arena by the bull shoots.

When the bull riding under 18 competition was announced Joe swallowed hard, “I’m excited to see what my hunk is so good at.” George giggled and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“George,” Joe said a bit with an edge to his tone and kind of shoved him off a bit.

“Sorry,” George frowned and moved away from him just slightly.

Joe could feel the pain start to come back as it began watching boys his age do what he should be doing.

George looked over at Joe, “Is something wrong?” George frowned as he sat the painful stare on Joe's face.

“Yes, I'm fine George.” Joe said with a little bit of an edge. George looked over at Bill, both of them sharing a look that spoke the words of something that was up with Joe.

Joe could feel his heart beat in his ears as rider after rider went. The phantom pains and tingling getting worse by the minute. He could begin to feel an uncomfortable pressure in his chest, his vision going blurry and he gripped his thighs to try and ground him.

“Joe, are you sure everything is okay?” George rested his hand on top of Joes.

“Yes George I’m fine. Now stop asking.” Joe snapped feeling himself come back down to reality. George jumped back slightly as Joe unexpectedly yelled at him. George felt tears begin to prick against his eyes and he tried to swallow the lump growing in his throat.

“Come on,” Bill stood up and grabbed Joe's arm, basically pulling the other boy out.

“Are you okay?” Babe asked, looking at his friend.

“Yeah,” George whispered as he tried to contain the tears beginning to fall down his cheeks. George didn’t understand why Joe had yelled at him, did he do something wrong? Maybe he shouldn’t have made Joe come tonight?

#band of brothers #george luz #joe toye #luztoye #joe liebgott #david webster #webgott #babe heffron #eugene roe #bill guarnere #modern au

[watchmegetobsessed]

Eunoia - Harry Styles

a/n: i’ve been meaning to write a piece filled with just fluffy, domestic moments through a relationship, and that’s when i created Flora in my mind. wrote it with an OC bc i had very specific traits and stuff in my mind about her and it didn’t feel right to write it with y/n but feel free to read however you’d like it! but i think Flora is a delightful girl, she is a teacher and a free spirit, i think you’ll like her!

pairing: Harry x OC (Floortje ‘Flora’ Hoven)

word count: 9.5k

masterlist

Eunoia (n.) Beautiful thinking: a well mind.

Harry is always looking forward to times when his days aren’t filled from morning to midnight, traveling all around the world, meeting dozens of new people at various new meetings. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the buzz his life comes with, but one can drive this lifestyle only for a while before getting tired. He now appreciates his calm periods, when he is not living out of his suitcase, he has the time to drop by a café and enjoy his morning coffee sitting down instead of grabbing it in a go-to cup and chugging it down in his car. When he can just take a walk when the weather is nice enough and his favorite is when he has the time to just look at things without a rush and appreciate them.

He has built up a habit of going to the same coffee place since he got off tour and jumped right into his well-deserved months off filled with meditation, resting and focusing on himself after giving so much for the world. It’s just two corners down his place, falling perfectly into his way to the gym and now he even has a favorite table in the corner, because it gives him a great view of the place but the vines hanging from the ceiling masks his presence enough that people don’t often notice him there, providing some privacy for his morning coffee.

It was his third day here when he first noticed her. She was sitting at the table by the window, near the door, deep in a book, another pile waiting for her on the free seat next to her as she intensely made notes of her reading. She had her wild, curly hair in a puffy bun on the top of her head, clearly just thrown into it haphazardly when she started working. Her ivory frame glasses kept sliding down the bridge of her nose and thy seemed a bit too big for her face, but they overall fit perfectly with her knitted sweater and dungarees. And Harry couldn’t look over the fact that she had little sunflowers painted on her nails. That instantly made him smile as he adorned her from afar.

As the days passed and Harry spent almost all his morning at the same spot, he started seeing or more like noticing her more often. She always sat at the same table and Harry figured it was because of the natural lighting coming through the windows that came in handy, because she was always either reading and making notes, or doing something crafty, mostly origami, he noticed. She often had her laptop open with tutorials on different origami works that she was trying to make herself, not always succeeding, but she got it right most of the time, a triumphant smile plastering across her face every time she finished a piece, her dimples digging deep into her round cheeks. Harry couldn’t stop herself from smiling whenever she held up the finished work and adorned what she just created. He often wondered what happened to the little creations afterwards, but she just usually shoved them into her backpack before leaving.

By the fifth or sixth time he has seen her, he already knew her order. Vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Large sized, of course, so she has something to sip on while she typed away on her laptop or finished reading another book.

Harry caught himself looking for her on mornings when he didn’t see her, which were usually Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, but one Wednesday, when he had an early meeting for a change with his team, he arrived before 8 am into the place and for his biggest surprise, there she was, sitting at her usual table, drinking the same drink as always. Later, Harry found himself coming earlier on those days just to find her there yet again and he figured her work schedule must start earlier on those days.

As the days went by Harry started to play with the thought of walking up to her. He wondered if she has noticed him as well, but it seemed like even if she did, his presence didn’t impress or bother her at all which just irked his curiosity about her even more. But every time he thought about finally talking to her, he decided against it, feeling like he would just be an intruder in her morning sessions. Until one day, the chance was handed to him on a silver plate.

She is doing origami once again on this particular day, making little cranes, one after the other, using different colored papers to make them form out a mess rainbow on her table. It’s a quiet morning, only a few more people sitting around at place. It’s been quite windy the past couple of days and today seems to be the worst, the trees are being tossed around by the howling winds outside, but it just makes it even cozier to sit inside in the warmth, enjoying a nice hot drink.

Harry finds himself watching her intently as her delicate fingers work on the paper, one crane following the other, she is starting to have a whole army of them.

An older man walks into the café and as he opens the door wide, the wind is quick to run into the place, knocking over everything that’s not heavy enough to stay still and the paper cranes are the first ones to start flying off the table.

“No! Darn it!” she gasps, her hands grabbing after them, saving just a few, but most end up on the floor, somersaulting away from her table. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and come to her rescue, lending her a pair of helping hands as she gathers her creations. “Oh, thank you!” she breathes out softly, her eyes meeting his and for his biggest surprise… she doesn’t seem to be stunned or even surprised by him, as if she doesn’t know who he is.

Maybe she doesn’t, it’s a possibility, he tells himself, smiling at her as he collects the cranes from the floor.

“Guess they wanted to be free,” he jokes, setting them on the table with the rest.

“It wasn’t my brightest idea to do it on such a windy day near the door,” she chuckles, looking over the bunch she’s been working on for the past thirty minutes.

“May I ask why you need so many paper cranes?” Harry inquires, leaving out the part that he’s been watching her do her origami for weeks now.

“Oh, I want to make decorations out of them, hang them up in my classroom. I’m a teacher,” she adds smiling.

That’s the most fitting job he could ever imagine for her, she is definitely the cool and adored teacher every kid is obsessed with.

“Wow, and how many do you need?” he asks, the stack of paper at the edge of the table looks quite a lot and he wonders if she wants to use them all for the cranes.

“Well, as many as I can make before my fingers fall off,” she jokes. Harry notices her freckles from up close that have been hidden behind her glasses until now. Her hair is in two space buns today and she is wearing a striped shirt with light-washed jeans and colorful sneakers. The sunflowers are gone from her nails, replaced by tiny daisies, but Harry likes them just as much as the previous flowers. They fit her well.

“Do you… I would love to help, if you want,” he finds himself offering, not even thinking about the question before it slips his mouth.

“You sure?” she asks, seemingly surprised but she definitely doesn’t find it weird that he just offered to help her.

“Yeah. Looks really calming and I haven’t made one in so long. Want to see if I still remember the steps,” he smiles.

“Take a seat then,” she nods, returning his smile. Harry goes back to his table to grab his stuff and join her.

“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduces himself as he takes the empty chair at her table, holding out his hand for her that she gladly takes.

“Floortje, but everyone just calls me Flora,” she smiles.

“Never heard that name, what’s the origin of it?”

“It’s Dutch. My dad is Dutch, he came up with the name as well and my mother liked it. It means little flower, nothing grandiose,” she chuckles, reaching for another paper to start her next crane.

“Do you have a Dutch last name as well?” he asks, but then realizes she might not feel comfortable sharing her full name just yet. “You don’t have to tell me your last name though, if you don’t want to.”

“It’s alright,” she chuckles. “It’s Hoven, which is Dutch, but you pronounce it pretty much the same as you’d if it was a simple English word, just with a softer V in the middle,” she explains, her fingers working easily and fast on the thin paper, the crane is already starting to form. Harry reaches for a paper himself and tries to recollect his memory of the steps.

“Were you born in the Netherlands too?”

“Yes, I was born in Eindhoven, but we moved here when I was five. But my Dutch is still just fine, luckily. My dad refused to talk to me in English when we moved, he said he won’t have his daughter forget her mother tongue just because he is getting paid more here,” she explains with a soft chuckle as she finishes up the crane, putting it to the pile.

“I always envied bilingual people. Must be great to speak two languages that easily,” Harry wonders, eyes fixed on the paper as he is trying his best with the crane. It’s slowly coming together, though it’s not as pretty as Flora’s.

“It’s not that fun when I suddenly forget a word in one of the languages and then spend twenty minutes trying to remember when I know for a fact I know the words, it’s just stuck on my tongue.”

Harry laughs, finishing up his creation, holding it up and Flora looks at it as well. It’s a little crooked and one of its wings is longer than the other, but overall, it’s a decent first one.

“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to,” he chuckles, putting it to the others.

“What are you talking about? It looks great!” she smiles, taking it into her hand, looking at it from all angles, smiling widely as she places it back to its peers. “It’s a nice one, and after all, it’s not your job to make cranes, so you’re fine,” she jokes.

Harry reaches for another paper as he thinks about if she knows him. Does she know what his job really is? Not that he expects everyone to know him, but she seems his age and it’s been quite impossible for him to meet someone close in age to him and not know a thing about him.

“Yeah, origami is definitely not my job,” he hums and then adds: “You… know what my job is?”

Flora glances up at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“Is this your way of trying to find out if I know you or not?” she smirks, tilting her head to the side, and it’s already a giveaway that she is very much aware of who she is sitting at a table with.

“I know, it was lame,” he huffs awkwardly.

“No, it was alright. And to answer your question, I do know what your job is, Harry Styles,” she replies.

“Sorry for asking around about it, you just seemed so casual and unbothered when you saw me, I thought you have no idea who I am.”

“I’m a teacher, my job is to treat everyone the same, I take equality very seriously. I don’t want my kids to think I put any of them above the rest, but I do the same outside of school too. Or do you want me to gasp and stutter now that you are sitting here?” she teases him making him laugh.

“That’s not needed at all.”

They work on their cranes in a comfortable silence and just as Harry thought, it’s quite relaxing, his thoughts slowly clear out, only focusing on the little birds he is creating. Then he glances up at Flora and suddenly his thoughts are filled with her once again. Now is his chance with her, he doesn’t want to leave this café without at least asking for her number even when he knows that he will surely see her around, just like always.

“Can I ask you something?” he speaks up as they both keep folding the colorful papers.

“Of course.”

“I hope I won’t sound creepy or something, but I’ve seen you around a lot and noticed how much you read. Is that just your hobby or…?”

“First of all it’s not creepy that you have noticed me, it’s flattering, because I have noticed you as well,” she smiles, paying him a quick glance.

“Really? I had a feeling you haven’t even seen me.”

“I did, but I thought you come here for the same reason as I do; to have some peace for yourself.”

“Ah, I see,” Harry nods.

“But to answer your question, I’m working on my second degree.”

“Oh, what’s that about?”

“Special education, speech therapy to be exact,” she tells him and Harry is even more stunned by her. Education is already a field not many can handle and then there is Flora, who didn’t just take up on it, she jumped right into it, pursuing a second degree in special education, a hard and challenging part of this job.

“Any particular reason why you chose it?”

“I have a younger brother, he is ten years younger than me, so he was already born here, but he was taught Dutch too. However, it wasn’t as easy for him as it was for me to speak two languages at the same time and he has developed some speech errors. Nothing major, but it was enough for him to be bullied in school. I saw his face every day when he came home and lied to our parents that everything is fine but then he cried to me in my room when they weren’t around. I don’t want any other kids to go through that, I’d love to be the one to not just help them come over their speech errors but also make sure they are treated the same way as everyone else.”

Harry hasn’t even noticed that he stopped working on his crane, he is now staring at her in awe, completely stunned by her. The more he learns about her the more he thinks she is a literal angel sent from above and that he can’t let her slip from his hands.

Flora looks up at him and finds him staring, a blush appearing on her full cheeks.

“Sorry for staring, but I just… this is so beautiful. Your passion about education is just one of a kind, truly. And the way how you made it your whole career and everything, I’m just… blown away,” he admits.

“Well, you made a career out of your passion too, didn’t you?” she chuckles softly.

“I did, but your story is just a little more touching,” he smirks. “Flora, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been meaning to come up to you for a while and now that we officially met, I just—I would love to take you out on a date and get to know you better.”

She blushes again and Harry notes how well the pinky shade fits her even if she probably wishes she could control it more.

“That would be lovely,” she smiles shyly and grabbing a crane from her pile she grabs a pen from her bag and writes her number to the wing of it before handing it over to Harry.

He loves that she could have easily just typed it into his phone, yet she chose to do it this way. He smiles down at the crane and puts it into his bag, securing it as if it was his biggest treasure.

When Flora opens her door for Harry she is still wearing her apron that’s filled with tulips, a pair of simple jeans underneath it with a bright yellow shirt. Harry smiles as he leans down and greets her with a soft kiss. Ever since their first kiss he has been obsessed with stealing one whenever he has the chance. Their first one was nothing grandiose, such a simple and mundane moment but for him, it was perfect. They were visiting a gallery, he chose the exhibition hoping she’ll be a fan of it since the theme was botany, all paintings connected to flowers, gardens and plants and he was right. Flora was stunned, fascinated by each painting as they stopped at one after the other, taking their time to adore the works. They were looking at a painted garden filled with colorful wildflowers around a small cottage in the distance. Flora’s eyes wandered over all the tiny details as Harry stood close to her. She then leaned closer to point out her favorite flower and once they realized just how close their faces were, he just easily closed the gap and kissed her softly, surrounded with art, but he was convinced she was his favorite masterpiece he has ever seen.

“Hi, sorry, I’m a little late, dinner is not ready yet,” she huffs letting him inside. “Had to stay at the school a little longer than expected.”

“Don’t worry. Can I help with anything?” he asks following her into the kitchen, putting the bottle of wine he brought into the fridge to keep it cool until dinner.

“No, it’s fine. I just need about fifteen minutes to finish up the veggies,” she smiles at him and tiptoeing she steals a quick kiss. Harry hasn’t been the only one obsessed with kisses. “Make yourself home.”

Harry leaves to use the bathroom quickly and on his way back he finds himself wandering into her bedroom. He has been in her home just a few times before, only spending short minutes here when he was picking her up but now he has time to actually look around, hoping she won’t mind him snooping around.

Her whole place is just as colorful as she is always, each piece of furniture a different style and color, yet fitting so well when you see it as a whole. The quilted patchwork blanket over her bed is definitely homemade, each patch has a different flower on it while the left lower corner has Floortje embroidered into it. Harry wonders if it was made by a friend or family member, either way, it’s surely a special piece.

Her dresser is cluttered with rings, perfumes and endless amount of hair ties. She has complained before that her hair stretches her elastics out so fast, she keeps buying new ones every month. The little armchair in the corner is covered with a few of her used clothes, ones she’ll wear once more before putting them into the laundry basket.

As he walks over to her nightstand that’s filled with books, at least seven piled on each other, his eyes stop over something that makes his heart flutter.

A crooked little paper crane is sitting on the edge of the nightstand, the one he made the first time they talked, to be exact. Harry takes the bird and looks at it in awe, surprised that she kept it to herself. However he doesn’t find it odd, not even a little bit, since he has also kept the one she wrote her phone number onto, it’s sitting on his desk in his study.

“Found something interesting?” Flora walks in and Harry’s head whips towards her, feeling like he was just caught. But the warm smile on her lips is a telltale sign that she doesn’t mind him looking around.

“You kept it,” he states matter-of-factly, holding up the paper bird.

“Of course I did,” she nods, walking closer. “It’s a special one.”

“Thought you treat everyone and everything the same,” he teases smiling as he puts the crane back, his hands finding her waist.

“I guess there are a few exceptions,” she smirks slyly, her hands running up on his arms until they reach the base of his neck.

“Am I an exception?” The corners of his mouth curl up as he places the bird back on her nightstand and circle his arms around her waist.

“Did I say that?” she teases him. “I think I called your work a special one.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, pretending to be hurt at her words, but he can’t push the growing smile back from his lips. They’ve been seeing each other for only over a month, but it was enough time to make him completely hooked on her. He is amazed by her in every possible way, feeling like he could never get enough of the ray of sunshine that Flora is. His favorite thing is that she makes him feel so normal, just an average guy dating a girl he met at a café. Not once did she treat him any different because of what he is and it’s just the feeling Harry has been looking for for such a long time.

“Come on, dinner is ready,” she smiles, pecking his lips before peeling his arms off of her frame, taking his hand as she pulls him out of the bedroom, however they surely end up in there again sometime after dinner, but with way less clothes on.

Harry watches as Flora plays with the bubbles in front of her, picking some foam up into her hair, watching it move around on her wet palm before blowing on it gently, her delicate fingers poking at the small bubbles that escaped from it. His hands are caressing her sides under the warm water that was once hot when they first got into it about an hour ago.

It’s been a lazy Sunday, Flora arrived early in the morning and went plant shopping. Her home has always been filled with plants and Harry has grown a liking to all the greenery, wanted some more in his house as well and Flora was more than happy to help him pick out the ones that are the easiest to take care of. Then they cooked lunch together, watched a movie and cleaned up the mess they made in the kitchen before running the bath. Harry has been loving these domestic days, lounging around his or her home, wearing comfy clothes and not caring about much of the outside words, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Remind me to buy peanut butter the next time I’m going grocery shopping,” she speaks up, leaning further back against his chest while Harry rests his chin on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her waist under the layer of bubbles.

“What do you need it for?” he hums, nudging her hair with his nose, her curls ticking his face, but he doesn’t mint it.

“I want to make cupcakes for the kids next week.”

“What for? Is there gonna be a special occasion?”

“No, they’ve just been super nice lately, we set up some new rules in the classroom and they’ve been really good following them.” Harry hums, loving how she is so eager to treat her students, he is convinced she is easily the best teacher he has ever came across.

“So peanut butter, huh? I think I need some too. Been dying to eat a good burger with some peanut butter.”

“I cannot believe you put peanut butter into your burgers,” she chuckles, peeking at him over her shoulder.

“Don’t bash it when you haven’t even tried!” he defends himself, kissing her cheek softly.

“The Aztecs would be so disappointed,” she sighs turning back forward, so she doesn’t see the puzzled look on Harry’s face.

“The Aztecs?”

“Yeah, they technically invented peanut butter,” she nods, as if it was common knowledge.

“Do I want to know why you know this about the history of peanut butter?” he chuckles softly.

“Well I had this kid last year who was obsessed with it and I started looking up fun facts for him for mornings when he looked a little moody. Then the others started enjoying it too so it became our morning thing that I told them a fun fact about anything.”

“Oh really? Tell me one then!” he asks smirking, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Okay, um…” she thinks to herself. “Do you know what the Olympic rings stand for?”

“I do not,” he shakes his head.

“The five rings stand for the five inhabited continents of the world, united by Olympism.”

“Sounds logical,” Harry nods. “Tell me another one,” he asks.

“Are you going to make me tell you all my fun facts?” she chuckles, turning a little so she can look into his beautiful green eyes.

“Maybe. I like it when you talk like this,” he smirks playfully.

“Like what?”

“Like… smart. I love how you know all these little things about the world and teach it to not just the kids but to me as well.”

“You don’t think I’m a smartass?”

“Why would I?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed.

“I used to be picked on in middle school because I liked to learn, more than what was required.”

“That doesn’t make you a smartass, baby. You don’t go around, correcting every tiny mistake around you. You use your knowledge to educate, like you should.”

Flora smiles softly at him, his words bringing the sense of reassurance she’s been seeking for so long. She pecks his lips shortly before turning back forward.

“Do you know how many days a billion seconds make up?” she asks, smiling to herself.

“I don’t.”

“11 574 days. That’s a little over 31 years.”

“So I haven’t lived a billion seconds in my life just yet,” Harry states, doing the quick math.

“No, you haven’t,” she smiles, mostly at the fact that he didn’t just listen to her little fun fact, but also thought about it a bit deeper.

They stay in the bath until the water gets cold and Harry keeps asking for fun facts and Flora gladly tells him whatever comes to her mind.

Harry finishes up the fresh salad, filled with Flora’s favorites: cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and corn with some kale, baby spinach and garlic dressing. He even sprinkled some sesame seeds on top, now he is pretty proud of his work, it looks like something influencers would snap in an aesthetic photo to their Instagram feed.

His bare feet tap against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to Flora’s bedroom where she is still curled up on her chair in front of her computer, her hair in a mess on top of her head, glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. She hasn’t moved much from the spot in hours, intensely working on her thesis that should be finalized within the next two weeks. She has been gradually working on it over the last few months, in no mean she is behind, but she’s been extra nervous about making it as good as she wanted it when she started and Harry has been nothing but supporting about it, knowing how much it means to her. So he’s been her moral support, making sure she eats, gets some rest and doesn’t get herself too worked up about her research. She appreciates his efforts and though she often feels bad for neglecting him lately, he made sure to assure her, he’ll be right here when she is finally done with it.

Harry walks around the mountain of books on the floor she has piled up from the library these past two weeks as he walks up behind her while her fingers type away on her computer so fast he can barely believe she even understands what she’s typing.

“Hey,” he softly calls out, leaning down he kisses her cheek, holding the bowl of salad in front of her, drabbing her attention, making her gaze move from the screen to the food in front of her.

“Oh, hey! Is this for me?” she asks with a soft smile, lifting her head so she can look at him. Even with the circles under her eyes, the messy hair and worn out t-shirt that she’s wearing, he thinks she is the most wonderful creature he has ever seen.

“Yeah. Come take a break, yea?”

She doesn’t protest, just saves the file before moving away from the desk to the bed along with Harry. She props herself up against the headboard, a tired moan escaping her lips as her spine rests against the pillows under her back. Harry hands her the salad and she digs right into it, only just now realizing that she’s been feeling hungry for the past two hours, but ignored it entirely.

“How much do you have left?” Harry asks nodding towards the computer.

“I’m finishing up the last part, then I just have to write the abstract and then…” she explains, popping a tomato in her mouth. “It’s just gonna be the formatting. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday.”

“That’s great,” he smiles proudly. He has always admired how hardworking she’s been when it came to school and her profession. He could never imagine himself do the same, especially because he didn’t even finish high school. He used to feel a little self-conscious about it when they first started dating, afraid that she might think less of him because he didn’t finish his education properly, even though it was never something that bothered him. But Flora assured him that it makes absolutely no difference in her opinion about him.

“It’s not about the papers or how many schools you’ve finished. It’s about how you see the world and if you are willing to learn when it changes around you. And I think you are perfect in that department, your curiosity and openness makes you an excellent learner,” she told him without even thinking about it.

Harry lies on his side next to her, one hand propping his head up while the other one wanders to her thigh, massaging it gently. She hums to herself, enjoying the food he made and he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. He loves taking care of her, especially because most of the times it’s her that takes care of him. Cooking for him after a long day at the studio, putting his laundry away while he is in an online meeting or writing him a list for when he goes grocery shopping, Flora has been watching out for him through these little things, but now it’s finally his turn to give it all back.

He’s been thinking about asking her to move in with him for a few weeks now, he just hasn’t been brave enough to bring it up, thinking that she might find it too early for such a big step, seeing that the two of them have been dating for a little over nine months. He’s been playing with the thought of coming home to her every single day, waking up next to her in the mornings, watch her form his home more to her liking, creating a space for the both of them, making it a home not just for him but her as well.

As she finishes up her salad, completely oblivious to what Harry is thinking about, he decides to bring it up once she is done with her thesis, not wanting to bother her in any possible way until she is finished.

“Mm, this was lifesaving, thank you,” she sighs, leaning over she kisses him softly as her appreciation for the sweet gesture. “I’ll finish up this one paragraph I’m in the middle of and then we could watch a movie. But strictly without subs, because I’m done with words for today,” she jokes, making him laugh as he takes the empty bowl from her hands.

“Sounds good,” he nods. “I’ll clean up in the kitchen and find something to watch while you finish.”

“Thank you.” As they both get up from the bed, she pulls him down for another kiss, Harry’s free hand finding the small of her back right away. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips, his heart fluttering in his chest at the words he has heard before, but it never fails to stun him.

“I love you too. Now go, finish it so we can cuddle,” he smiles, smacking her bum gently before they let go of each other.

“Ja, pappa. Dat klinkt fantastisch. Ik zal het hem vragen. Ja.” Yes, dad. That sounds fantastic. I’ll ask him. Yes.

Harry listens to Flora talk to her father on the phone as she applies her lip balm, the one she uses every night before going to bed. He loves it when she talks in Dutch, many tend to criticize the language, but not Harry. Or maybe it’s just because he only hears Flora talk it and he loves everything she does.

“Ja, dat is goed. Dank je. Tot ziens, pappa, ik hou van je!” Yes, that’s great. Thank you. See you soon, dad, love you!

She ends the call and switches the light off in the bathroom that’s been not just Harry’s but hers since she officially moved in with him just last week. Harry finally built up the courage to ask her opinion about the possibility of living together in the near future once she was free from the worries of her research and thesis. For his biggest surprise, she was on the exact same page as him, definitely a fan of the idea. So three weeks later they started slowly moving all her stuff over to his until her apartment completely emptied out. Now all her belongings are splattered across Harry’s home, they haven’t found the perfect place for everything just yet, but it’s slowly starting to feel like home for the both of them.

“Dad called, asked if we would go over for dinner this weekend,” she tells him, moving around the bedroom as she takes her little hoop earrings off, placing them in the shell she uses as a jewelry holder on top of the dresser. She is wearing a pair of yellow sweatpants with one of Harry’s shirts, nothing underneath them, just how Harry loves it.

“It’s cute how you always tell me it was your dad, but he is the only one you speak Dutch with,” he chuckles lowly as she climbs to bed, pulling the covers over the both of them.

“It comes so naturally, I don’t even realize I’m switching languages,” she admits smiling.

“Dinner sounds lovely,” he nods, getting back to what she was talking about before.

“Arnold is bringing his girlfriend too,” she smirks, her eyes sparkling from excitement.

“Your brother has a girlfriend now?” he hums, eyebrows rising at the new information.

“It’s the girl I saw him with at his basketball game last month. They made it official like two weeks ago.”

“And he is already bringing her home? He is not beating around the bush,” he chuckles. “Is it going to be the first time the girl meets your parents?”

“Yeah, so it’s gonna be exciting,” she nods, cuddling to his side.

Flora is playing with the little cross pendant on Harry’s chest and he is watching her delicate fingers flipping it over, her fingertips tickling his chest a little in the process.

“When we have kids, will you also teach them Dutch?” he suddenly questions, the words just blurting out of his mouth. Flora lifts her head, resting her chin on his chest as she looks into his curious eyes. She stays silent, but a small smile is tugging on her lips for sure.

“What?” he asks, feeling a little nervous. It’s the first time he is bringing having kids up, but he definitely has been thinking about it, especially since she has moved in. They haven’t been dating for that long, but Harry is one hundred percent sure he is in the long run with her.

“I just… love how you said when and not if.”

“Well, it’s a question of when for me. What about you?”

“Same goes for me,” she smiles warmly. “And yes, I do want my children to speak Dutch. It’s important to my family and me as well. How does that sit with you?”

“Totally fine. In fact, I always envied kids growing up who were taught another language so early in their childhood. Would love that for my kids as well.”

“Dan is het geregeld,” she smiles widely at him.

“What’s that mean?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I said that, then it’s settled. We’ll have some cute, bilingual babies,” she chuckles, half jokingly, half seriously.

Today has just been one of those days that were doomed from the moment Harry opened his eyes. He has been overwhelmed with stress lately, working on new music, but his studio sessions haven’t been as successful as he wanted them. He is also flying out to LA for two weeks in just a couple of days and he has to miss Flora’s mom’s birthday this weekend, which has been torturing him with guilt ever since he found out he can’t push his trip back.

This morning it felt like the universe just plotted against him. He slipped in the shower, broke a glass in the kitchen and successfully ripped one of his favorite jeans when he was getting dressed. He had a one way ticket cranky city, turning Harry into a moody little child. It didn’t take him long until he started a fight with Flora over the smallest, most ridiculous thing. It started with how Flora misplaced a bowl in the cabinet and took him two moments longer to find it than usual, then they ended up disputing about every little thing about each other they’ve been finding annoying, but neither of them voiced their feelings about them.

Flora, on the other hand, was not in the mood to argue with Harry so early on a Tuesday morning and she chose to just walk away and let him stew in his own anger. Harry knew the moment he heard the front door shut that she was mad at him: she didn’t kiss him goodbye like she does every day before she leaves.

He took a cold shower to cool him down and clear his head, get his thoughts straight so he can apologize like she deserves. Getting into his car he drives to the florist he usually goes to when he needs flowers for whatever occasions. The old lady greets him with a warm smile and upon describing what he envisioned, she immediately knows what to create for him this time. The result is a giant, colorful bouquet that reminds him of Flora in every possible means.

Driving down to her school he is met with an extreme amount of nostalgia even though it’s not even the school he went to as a kid, but it still brings back some memories.

The security guard immediately stops him when he walks into the building, but once he has explained him the situation, the old guy gladly tells him which classroom is hers so he can go and surprise her. His footsteps echo in the empty hallways as it is the middle of the second period, all students are locked up in their classrooms, lucky for Harry, because he surely can’t deal with teenage girls recognizing him right now. Holding the flowers in one hand he stops when he finds room 414 and he can hear Flora’s voice coming from inside, enthusiastically explaining something about penguins and it makes Harry smile.

Even with such a horrible morning behind her, she is still giving one hundred for her students. He brings up his hand and softly knocks on the door, interrupting her speech.

“Come in!” she calls out and Harry opens the door, popping his head inside first, then holding up the bouquet of flowers, making the kids start chattering in excitement at his arrival while Flora is staring at him shocked.

“Miss Hoven, do you have a moment for me, please?” he asks with a shy but charming smile. She quickly gains back control over her features before turning to her class.

“Please start working on task two and five, I’ll be right back,” she orders, but the chatter doesn’t die down so she raises her voice at them. “This is not how we act when we have guests, guys!”

The kids are quick to quiet themselves, eyes curiously switching between their teacher and the intruder at the door.

“Miss Hoven, is this your husband?” one of the kids, a little blond boy asks.

“No, Michael, he is not. Harry is my boyfriend,” she answers calmly, heading towards the door.

“Wait, I know him!” a girl exclaims gasping. “He sings the watermelon song!”

“Lilian, no discussion now. Do the tasks!” Flora tells her before walking out, but keeping the door open so she can hear what’s happening inside. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide when she finally looks at Harry again. “What’s—What’s this?”

“These are for you,” he clears his throat, handing her the bouquet. “And I came here to apologize for being such an arsehole this morning. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been crankier lately and I took it all out on you. I’m very sorry.”

Flora’s eyes soften on him as she takes one of his hands with her free one, giving it a squeeze.

“I said some nasty stuff too, so I guess I’m sorry too,” she sighs, her anger and frustration from earlier now long gone.

“I brought that out of you, so I’ll take the blame,” Harry chuckles softly. “But the point is that I’m sorry.”

“Well, you are forgiven. You were even before you came here,” she assures him smiling warmly. “Why don’t we order something tonight and just get lazy on the couch?”

“You said you have some tests to go through.”

“That can wait. You’re leaving in two days so I want to spend time with you.”

“So we won’t get our tests back tomorrow?” they both hear a muffled voice coming from inside and Flora chuckles shaking her head as she opens the door wider and steps inside. A small group of kids run back to their seats, but not fast enough to not get caught.

“Lilian, would you mind telling me why you left your seat without permission?” Flora questions the girl who just rolls her lips into her mouth, pretending like she hasn’t even moved all along. Flora sighs stepping outside once again. “I gotta go now, but thank you for this. They look beautiful,” she tells Harry.

“I love you,” he murmurs and leaning down he kisses her quickly, feeling like he is breaking rules even though he is not a student or a teacher here.

“I love you too,” she smiles back before walking back inside and shutting the door. Harry stays for a minute, just out of curiosity to hear if the kids ask her some more questions about him.

“Miss Hoven?” a girl calls out and Harry bets it’s the same nosy girl who recognized him.

“Yes, Lilian?”

“You have a nice boyfriend,” she exclaims, earning a soft chuckle from Flora.

“Well thank you, Lilian, but let’s get back to our new unit. Let’s see the tasks you had to solve!”

The splashing sound of vomit arriving to the toilet hits Harry’s ears once again as he is rushing up the stairs with a glass of water and the Emetrol his hands that he dug the kitchen cabinets through for. Arriving to the master bathroom he finds Flora just where he left a few minutes ago, kneeling in front of the toilet, arms on the rim as she is taking a deep breath, hoping to calm her stomach and stop throwing up finally.

“Oh baby, here. Found you some Emetrol, this should help,” he coos gently, sitting down to the marble floor next to her he places the water beside him as he pours some of the liquid medicine into the cap for her. She lifts her head, skin pale as the wall, the dark circles under her eyes make his stomach churn, he hates to see her in this condition and wishes he could just help her.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, her shaking hand takes the cup and she downs the medicine before taking a few sips from the water. “Harry, I’m so sorry for ruining our date,” she sighs in defeat.

“Oh shush. Don’t you dare apologize for being sick,” he shakes his head, putting the Emetrol aside before he towers above her to redo her hair so it doesn’t fall to her face. Today marks their one year anniversary and though they only planned to go out for a nice dinner, nothing extra, Flora still feels bad they had to cancel on their reservation when she started throwing up this afternoon. She’s been feeling nauseous ever since she ate that leftover casserole for lunch. She had a feeling she should have just gotten rid of it, but she hated wasting food so ate it. Big mistake.

Harry’s fingers delicately work on her curls, piling them on the top of her heat before he secures the bun with professional movements using the elastic he tends to wear on his wrists, just because Flora always loses hers. He likes to keep one on him as well. His long haired days trained him well, her hair is neatly kept out of her face as she frowns, feeling her stomach churning again.

“Can I do anything else for you, baby?” he gently asks, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead to make sure she doesn’t have a fever, but she feels alright. She probably just has to get rid of the bad food.

“Can you please get me a wet washcloth?” she asks faintly. Sitting to her butt she leans against the wall beside her with her eyes closed.

Harry nods and he is on his feet in a blink of an eye, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet and wetting it in some cool water. He kneels in front of her and starts gently tapping it against her cheeks, forehead and neck, wiping off the thin layer of sweat.

“This is not how I planned to spend our anniversary,” she groans with a frown, making him chuckle.

“We agreed, the anniversary is postponed. Don’t even think about it.”

“But I wanted to look nice for you, even bought a new dress.” She pouts her lips at him, eyes opening narrowly, glistening from the tears that watered them while she was throwing up.

“You always look nice, baby,” he softly tells her, letting her take the washcloth before she places it over her forehead.

“Even now? After you saw me throw up four times? We have very different versions for the word nice, H,” she jokes with a soft chuckle and Harry is thankful to see her smile, even if it’s still very faint and tired.

“Even now, baby,” he nods smirking and he is not lying. Though the situation is saddening, Harry still enjoys taking care of her, being the one she can rely on even on her worst days.

They sit on the bathroom floor as the medicine slowly works and she finally gets rid of the urge to throw up. Then Harry scoops her up and undressing the both of them, he helps her take a nice shower before dressing her in clean clothes, tossing their dirty ones into the laundry basket, noting to do them sometime in the morning.

When Flora is settled under the cover, head comfortably sinking into the pillow, she immediately feels her eyes closing, the strenuous afternoon has successfully sucked all her energy right out of her body. Harry brings her another big glass of water for the night and just to be sure, puts a trashcan next to her side, if things go south again. When he gets under the covers she is already half asleep, but she hums when his fingertips dance down the side of her face.

He allows himself to shamelessly admire her as she finally falls completely asleep, her lips parted as she slightly snores, but she looks so peaceful, the painful frown he saw on her face all afternoon is now gone from her beautiful face. He hasn’t fully wrapped his mind around how an entire year has passed with such a wonderful creature by his side. As their anniversary was coming up, he caught himself thinking about what the future is holding for them more often. There were so many things they needed to experience together, so much to see and do as partners and Harry couldn’t wait for it all to come.

As he lies in the bed next to her, a smile tugs on his pink lips at the thought of the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Flora. His future has never seemed brighter than in that moment.

“This is harder than I thought,” Flora admits, focusing on the instrument on her lap, trying to figure out if she is holding down the accords the right way, but a moment later Harry’s hand covers hers on the neck of the guitar and he fixes her fingers on the strings until they are in the right position.

“Like this. Try it now,” he murmurs, his chin resting on her shoulders as she is standing between his legs, back leant against his chest. Flora has been begging him to teach him a few accords on the guitar and today finally brought the moment Harry would turn into her master.

The two of them are sitting on the bed, Harry only in his underwear while Flora is in one of his hoodies with only her panties covering the lower parts of her body. Harry came back from a week-long trip to New York and they haven’t left the bed too much since he set his feet inside the house, only emerging from the bedroom to fulfill their other physical needs.

Flora’s fingers strum against the strings and the instrument comes to life, giving her a clear accord finally, bringing a triumphant smile to her lips.

“You are a natural talent, baby,” he smirks, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before kissing into her neck.

“Don’t tease me, I’m trying!” she warns her playfully, playing the chord again, loving how she can create such a beautiful sound with the instrument.

“Mm, you’re coming for my career?”

“Oh, surely. I think I would make an excellent rockstar,” she nods confidently, making him laugh.

“You are so not the rockstar type. More like the chill indie singer who dances barefoot on stage.”

“Yeah, but I could spice it up a little and make it rockstar-y,” she explains and glances back at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think I would look hot in one of your stage costumes? Sparkly suit and all?”

“Oh I know you’d look amazing,” he nods eagerly. He has spent quite some time imagining her girl in one of his suits and he quite liked the thought. Flora chuckles as he puts the guitar aside before she turns around and straddles him, her knees on each of his sides.

“Yeah? I would need a better name, mine is not too fitting for a star,” she explains. “Easy for you, your name is basically the most perfect name for a rockstar.”

“You think so?” he cocks an eyebrow at her, his palms coming to cup her bum as he tilts his head backwards since this position makes her the taller one for a change.

“Harry Styles? Oh please, it’s like Anne knew she would give birth to a legend,” she scoffs making him laugh.

“I’ve been told it’s a nice one,” he shrugs smugly. “I think it’s the surname.”

“It’s pretty cool, yeah.”

“What if you had the same? Flora Styles? Sounds pretty badass,” he suggests and at first, she doesn’t even realize the hidden meaning behind his words, tasting the name so obliviously.

“Flora Styles? You might be right, the surname sounds very cool,” she agrees and it amazes him how easily it went over her head.

“You like it?”

“Mhm,” she nods, her hand reaching for the guitar once again, but Harry stops her, taking it between his as he blindly finds her ring finger that is now ringless.

“Do you like it enough to actually take it?” he questions, hoping she would get the hint now where this is heading. She blinks at him a little puzzled but it’s until she realizes that his fingers are fidgeting with her ring finger, more specifically where a ring would sit on it, his fingertips gently caressing the skin around it.

“Harry?” she gasps with wide eyes as she just watches his grin grow wider. “This is not… Are you--?”

“What?” he chuckles, feeling entertained how she lost all her smug confidence all of a sudden. “What’s it that you’re trying to say?”

“No, what is it that you are trying to say?!” she snaps back, still in shock about what he just implied. “Was this your sneaky way of… proposing?” she asks, whispering the last word as if it was a curse word.

“Why do you act like we have a forbidden love and marriage cannot be even mentioned?” he chuckles at her.

“Because I was shocked! Not that bad now though, you haven’t pulled out a ring so I guess it was just a cruel joke.” She narrows her eyes at him, kissing his smug grin shortly, but Harry is definitely not done with her just yet.

“I wouldn’t be that sure about it, baby,” he warns her before gently pushing her off her lap to get off the bed. Flora’s eyes widen as she follows him walk to his suitcase that’s still lying on the floor next to his dresser, waiting to be unpacked. He digs under his clothes before pulling out a small velvety box, making her gasp immediately. Harry gets back on bed as he holds out the box in front of her on his palm, not opening it just yet.

“Did you buy that in New York just this week?” she asks with her mouth hung open.

“I didn’t. I’ve had it for about a month, I just took it with myself because I was afraid you’d find it,” he chuckles as he plays around with it between his fingers. “Have been planning on it for a while, but I couldn’t come up with anything so then I just decided to wait for the right moment and go with the flow,” he explains.

“And this is the right moment?” she questions, her heart beating in her throat as her gaze is switching between Harry’s green eyes and the box in his hand.

“Felt like it, yeah,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up.

Silence settles between them as they both just wrap their heads around the weight of the moment. Harry’s heart flutters in his chest, a little afraid it’s too early. They’ve been dating a little over two years now, marriages have been tied way earlier in a relationship before, but Harry feared Flora would feel it too rushed just yet, however the question is out there now. Or is it?

“Well, are you gonna ask it?” she questions and as Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet her gaze, he is met with that playful challenge in them that he adores so much.

“I just asked,” he mutters.

“No, you asked if I would take your name. That’s not a proposal,” she reminds him and he realizes she is right. He never actually asked the big question.

So he finally pops the lid open revealing the vintage diamond ring he bought a month ago when he was just out and about. The moment his eyes laid on the jewelry, he knew it’s the one he’d like to see on your finger and bought it right away.

“Floortje Hoven, will you marry me?” he simply asks, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks as he smiles widely at his lover.

“I will,” she nods, her heart hammering in her chest as she watches him take the ring out of the box and carefully put it on her once empty ring finger. Still holding her hand, he brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the ring before leaning in he connects his lips with hers.

-

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot

[girlgrouptrash101]

Lisa (Blackpink) as Your Girlfriend

Request: “HEADCANON’s are my thing. Can I request Lisa as your girlfriend, please?”

A/N: lovesick girls SOTY,,, that’s all i have to say

- C

Get ready to be treated like royalty,, miss manoban won’t settle for anything less when it comes to her baby

Lisa is always romantic, whether its taking you our for a candle-lit, romantic dinner or just staying at home and slow dancing around the living room together

Your guys’ apartment would be the perfect blend of both your tastes, with a gorgeous, retro, red jukebox in the living room that you and Lisa play music from whenever you’re at home

You have a big photograph wall in your room of all the memories you’ve had together,, with most of the pictures being taken by your very own personal photographer Lisa hehe

her camera goes everywhere with her, and she has millions of photos of you that you’ve never even seen, as Lisa loves to keep them to herself so she can look through them when she’s away and misses you

the rest of the pinks are basically your best friends, and they basically knew you before they even met you, thanks to Lisa’s constant gushing over how amazing you are and how lucky she is to be with you :’]

you’re always invited to their shows and concerts,,, and the absolute joy you get seeing all Lisa’s fans scream for her knowing she all yours at the end of the day simply cannot be put into words

on long days before comebacks, you often find yourself heading to Blackpink’s practice room with snacks in hand, reminding the girls to stop overworking themselves and put their health first!

Lisa always teaches you her new dances, even if you have two left feet lol

she loves watching you learn, and after a few months she’s really helped you improve - even if most of you lessons end up to you and her dancing to crazy frog around the practice room like maniacs

the most fun dates!! Like one time you and Lisa went to every single ice cream parlour in your city and reviewed each one to find out which one had the best ice cream around

like YES you were both stuffed and couldn’t touch ice cream for about a month after because you hadn’t recovered... but it was still worth it

the two of you also love to pack a picnic and a blanket, taking a drive out to the big fields in the country side

there’s nothing else around you for miles, just you, Lisa and the sound of birds as they fly by and nest in trees, the two of you just enjoying the blissful break from city life

Plus you get to make daisy chains and talk about the most random things as you lounge on the blanket you packed, completely at ease with life and with one another

you love talking to Lisa so much; your conversation can honestly range from questioning the creation of humanity to talking about your favourite flavour of ice cream (mint choco team rise up)

she always does that little thing with her thumb when she holds your hand, rubbing her thumb ever so softly across the back of your hand and it makes your heart go dsfjksskl

gives the BESTEST hugs ever omg

her head rests on top of yours as she loops her arms around her waist and yours drape around her shoulders, your head against her chest or on her shoulder as she holds you tight against her

also gives A+ cuddles too, she’s like your own personal teddy bear that you can just never pull away from,,, she’s too warm and soft,, you always end up spending hours in her arms whenever you can

INTENSE JUST DANCE BATTLES IN THE LIVING ROOM

rumour has it you almost broke your knees trying to beat Lisa at the rasputin dance - spoiler alert, she still won like she always does jndsfdklds

shopping dates!! which are actually really fun,, Lisa always picks out something for the both of you that’s absolutely ABSURD, and when you go and try it on the two of you end up cracking up with laughter

don’t tell anyone but half the time when Lisa buys clothes for herself she goes for things that you would like in hopes that you borrow them off her... because YOU... in HER CLOTHES... she might just cry uwu

dating Lisa and accidentally becoming a parent to all FOUR of her cats.. good luck i guess xoxo

she loves taking you to Thailand to meet her family, and bringing you to all her favourite spots as a child, wanting to make new memories there with you by her side

she’s also one to show up on your doorstep with two plane tickets and a suitcase packed for you - she doesn’t even tell you where you’re going, but she always has a plan and brings you on the most memorable and life changing trips around the world

she just wants to make so many memories with you and switch things up when you least expect; Lisa loves to keep you on your toes

plus,,,, more memories = more stories to tell your kids when you get to that milestone in the future

which Lisa definitely sees happening, she’s never, ever leaving you behind, it would be a crime to lose a love as strong as yours.

NSFW From Here:

kind of a service top tbh,,, like this girl just wants her baby to be feeling good and satisfied

will have her way with you any time any place though,, like she always catches you so off guard - you could be just cooking dinner and then all of a sudden she’s crept up behind you and her hand is down your pants

“and I’ll do it again” - Lisa after eating you out on the kitchen counter top x

It drives her fucking insane when you moan out her name, and it only spurs her on to fuck you harder and faster, listening to each heavenly scream spill from your lips

less into sending you nudes and more into sending you steamy choreographies that she’d been practicing just for you

Lisa feels the best when she’s dancing, and she knows just how worked up you get when you watch her dancing to something sexy, so she never hesitates to invite you to the practice room when she knows she’s going to be putting on a show

which usually ends up with you against the practice room mirror, begging for Lisa to go harder and harder - probably scaring away everyone else in the YG building </3

definitely has a rainbow coloured strap on because gay rights 

tbh you couldn’t care less what colour it is - you don’t even know anything except Lisa’s name when she’s using it, each thrust driving you closer and closer to that glorious edge

Lisa absolutely LOVES when you take care of her too, especially after a long day of schedules when she just gets to come home and ride your face until she crashes from tiredness

her favourite thing in the world is getting eaten out, her long legs wrapping around your head to keep her close to her core while her head is thrown back in pleasure

i could definitely see her being into wax play too, mainly because she think its so gorgeous,, the hot wax melting onto your skin and creating a beautiful picture on her favourite canvas

Lisa in thigh high boots......... and deep red lingerie........... thinking so many thoughts

absolutely LOVES receiving/sending nudes, and she saves every single one in a locked folder for her to look back on when she’s busy on tour and missing your touch 

and don’t be surprised if you get a facetime call in the middle of the night, filled with Lisa’s whines and moans as she touches herself over the phone, driving you crazy knowing you can’t be there to please her the way she so clearly desires

#lisa #lalisa manoban #lisa reactions #lisa imagines #lisa scenarios #lisa fluff #lisa smut #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink reactions #blackpink fluff #blackpink smut #blackpink #girl groups #kpop girl groups #girl group reactions #girl group scenarios #girl group fluff #girl group smut #girl group imagines #kpop idols #kpop girls #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop smut #kpop

[legends-of-apex]

‘The Day He Didn’t’

Robbie Reyes/Ghost Rider x Reader (angst, fluff)

Word count: 5,100

Rating: T (tw for death and grief, brief suggestiveness)

Summary: *Spoilers for Agents of SHIELD season 4* You, an agent of SHIELD and long-time resident of the Reyes household, deal with the fallout from Robbie’s “death” in episode 8. This fic mainly explores the relationship you had with Robbie and how you come to terms with his death whilst trying to take care of Gabe in his absence. Based on this request for anon. Reader is described as female.

Author’s note: I’m so sorry in advance to anyone who reads this as there so much angst! Some fluff sprinkled in there as well but mainly angst! Hope you guys enjoy it all the same! Please feel free to let me know what you think ☺️

“Cariña?” You stopped dead in your tracks, almost dropping the bundle of paperwork in your arms at the sound of the nickname only one person in the world had for you. You turned to see Robbie walking towards you with Mack and Daisy, “What are you doing here?” he asked, surprise evident on his face despite knowing your profession. The only reason he didn't have many apprehensions about helping out SHIELD in the first place was because you worked for them so he figured they couldn’t be all bad.

“I work here.” You blinked just to make sure you weren’t seeing things, “What on Earth are you doing here?”

Worry instantly seeped into your pores, and knowing it would, he took your hand in his, silently telling you everything was alright as his thumb smoothly dragged over your knuckles. He’d always avoided the authorities like the plague and you worried he’d been captured for all he’d been doing as Ghost Rider recently but given the lack of hostility towards him from the others in the halls, you guessed he wasn’t some escaped prisoner and was working with your team.

“This is your civilian boyfriend from east LA?” Daisy asked, never putting two and two together. To her credit, there were probably thousands of mechanics living in east LA and that was all you’d told her about him for fear she’d go snooping. What were the chances your boyfriend would be the one guy with a flaming head that she’d been tracking down?

They left you alone to talk and the very first thing he did was wrap you up in his arms. You were due home from SHIELD that evening. Having been away for a little over a week, he’d missed you terribly. Gabe had too although he’d never admit it. You sighed into his arms and placed a kiss on his cheek, unable to hug him back due to all the paperwork you carried.

Home had come to you rather than the other way around today, it seems.

“You know when I said I wasn’t worried about you working for SHIELD?” He grinned, “I’d like to officially retract that statement. The shit you guys have to deal with here is crazy.”

“Oh, you mean the guys with flaming heads and stuff?” You joked.

“It’s the ‘and stuff’ that has me worried now that I’ve seen it firsthand.” Your worlds weren’t so different after all and that worried him just because he knew how dangerous it was. You could take care of yourself, of that he was certain, but he never thought for a minute that you were dealing with the likes of him at your nine to five. Given how little you were legally allowed to tell him, he never asked and you never told.

“Oh please, I’m hardly ever in the field.” You assured, not wanting to worry him. What neither of you did was easy or safe but at least you got paid for what you did, he just got tired, “SHIELD is as safe as spy agencies come.”

Three days later Robbie was dead.

You quit SHIELD on the spot in favour of returning home to his little brother Gabe. Not only had the most important person in the world to him just died but the very reason for his demise was their uncle Eli.

You’d lived with him and Gabe for years, since Eli got sent to prison. Gabe had just lost the use of his legs and Robbie became the sole provider for the two of them. They needed you. And you needed them, and a place to stay. You got Eli’s old room. He didn’t mind, if anything he was glad the boys had someone looking out for them in his absence even if you spent half the week at work with SHIELD.

Robbie and Gabe still shared a room at the time despite their age but that didn’t last all too long once you moved in. Soon Gabe was sick of his brother’s late nights and when winter rolled around and the gas bill got too expensive, you were freezing in that room on your own. With the portable heater in Gabe’s room and Robbie sleeping in with you most nights anyway, it was the cold that finally pushed him out of sharing with his brother and into sharing with you.

Even though you’d been living with them for months, you and Robbie only really said you’d move in together once he shared a room with you. He kept your heart and your body feeling warm and safe. He was so endlessly, hopelessly warm in both body and mind despite everything. But it was when you moved in together that you started to notice something more than the trauma of what happened to him and Gabe that one night was bothering him. There was something very, very wrong with Robbie.

You even saw it in his eyes sometimes. The pain. The fire.

One night as you sat straddling his lap, gazing down at him with your hands braced against his strong chest, talking about what happened with Eli of all things when his eyes changed. They took on a molten orange hue. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen it but it was the first time you’d not been otherwise too… occupied…to mention it.

“Your eyes-” you started but you had no idea what else to say. Suddenly the permanent smell of burn made sense and the late nights he said he spent at Canello’s despite the lack of extra income. The Ghost Rider had been all over local news channels. He’d been targeting the same gang that shot up the car with Robbie and Gabe inside. White supremacist gangs too.

His panicked eyes searched your face, desperate for any indication of what you were thinking. His thumbs rubbed circles into the outside of your thighs as you stared at the pillow beside his head, gaze unfocused before you finally swallowed and locked your eyes with his.

“Are you...” You didn’t need to say anymore, he saw the realisation on your face and he nodded immediately. He wasn’t able to voice the answer, far too paralysed with fear as to what your reaction would be but he was done hiding this from you. To his surprise, you flung your arms around his neck and squeezed him so tight it hurt.

You wouldn’t tell Gabe, you wouldn’t tell the cops or SHIELD and most importantly of all, you weren’t going to leave him because of it.

Since then it seemed like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, made his steps a little lighter. The late nights he was out hunting were spent with you worrying about him since then, despite him assuring you that as long as that demon was in him he literally couldn’t die.

Most of the time you waited up for him so you could check him over and make sure he was okay, make sure his mind could ease and return to earth after the spike in adrenaline that came with the Rider taking over for a few hours. Although sometimes he was out so late that sleep took you despite your best efforts.

On one such night, he heard a soft mumblr of his name in the darkness of your bedroom, your voice quiet and strained with sleep. He felt his heart ache with the longing that laced it.

He crouched down at the foot of the bed so you could see that he was alright, that he was home, “Yeah cariña, I’m here.” He replied in a half-whisper, careful not to wake you up any more than you already were. He leant down to press a kiss to your forehead and recoiled at the temperature of your skin, “You’re freezing?”.

The heating got switched off again, but he didn’t need to know that right now. You made sure Gabe had the portable heater and a few extra blankets, knowing you’d have all the heat you needed once Robbie got home. “Got all the heat I need right here,” You tapped his chest softly. He was so inhumanly warm thanks to the hellfire bubbling within. Too warm for you to hold him for long in the scorching summer, but the perfect temperature for when the nights grew cold.

The moment he lay down beside you he was tugging you towards him, enveloping your body with his as much as he could. You nuzzled your face into his chest, clinging on to the fabric of his shirt. He tucked the covers in around your body before bringing his arm to rest across you, letting his fingers run a trail across your back.

“That better?” He asked and you nodded, finally able to exhale a breath at being a comfortable temperature.

“Yeah baby, thank you. Much better now you’re here.” His entire being radiated comfort, “Rough night? You look exhausted.” He truly did. Heavy bags hung beneath his eyes and he seemed like he could barely keep his eyes open.

“I am. But it always makes me feel better knowing I get to come home to you after.” He pressed a kiss to the bridge of your nose, eliciting a giggle, “You comfy?” He asked and you nodded, “Good cause I ain’t moving till well past midday tomorrow.”

“And skip your favourite meal of the day?” You questioned all whilst settling down further into the mattress beneath you, eyes heavy with sleep.

“Baby, the only breakfast I need is nestled right between your thighs.” He was so close to sleep just then that you weren’t sure he even knew half of what he was saying.

You laughed, but your tone quickly sobered, “I was worried about you,” you hadn’t heard him come in. You only realised he was home when you woke up to the faint smell of burnt material filling your nostrils as it often did when he was around.

“You don’t gotta worry about me. You know I’ll always come back to you and Gabe.”

You hummed in agreement, “You better….”

“I will.” He affirmed, pressing his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes for the night as he did.

To his credit, he did come back to you night after night, day after day until the one day he didn’t.

All you could do was watch in horror as his own uncle impaled him with spikes of solid carbon. You had seen the look on his face when it happened. He knew exactly what he had to do but it meant breaking his promise to you and to Gabe but Ghost Rider did it for him anyway. At the very least it was quick for both he and Eli, at least he hadn’t suffered.

“He doesn’t even have a grave!” Gabe was in hysterics when you told him. Although the look on your face when you came through the door that day was telling enough of what happened. No body and no death records meant no grave. Nothing to remember him by except for the people who knew him and the emptiness in that house in his wake.

“Why don’t we go make one then, huh?” You offered.

That’s how the tiny wooden cross made its way into the back garden. A sharpened end so it sank into the ground right next to another one for Eli. It wasn’t much. But it was something and it seemed to make Gabe feel better about not being able to bury them. He prayed in front of it sometimes. Religion was big in their family but he’d never really cared for it until now, knowing their parents would be rolling in their graves with Robbie not having a grave or even a body to bury properly.

Both graves were adorned with marigolds. You brought Gabe to the market each week to buy more so the scent stayed fresh. He said they were usually reserved for Dia de los Muertos, the smell and vibrant orange colour was used to bring the souls of the dead towards an altar or a grave, but he said it couldn’t hurt to leave them there whilst the flowers were in season.

The only family he had left was gone in one fell swoop. Robbie always said he dreaded the day they’d have to bury Eli and add him to the list of family Gabe lost. The thought that he’d be on that list and added to the altar alongside his parents never even crossed his mind.

Despite everything, Gabriel decided to keep going to school and you couldn’t have been prouder of him for it. And you still helped him with homework, despite some of it already seeming like it was beyond you due to how advanced the content he was learning was. You helped him out with essays a lot as he struggled with those the most. Math and science were his true favourites, business too.

You sat at the kitchen table reading over an essay he needed help with as you often did. Although now there was no Robbie to come in from work and press a kiss to your head, or your neck if Gabe was out of the room. There was no one to mess up the neat part in Gabe’s hair or steal a chip from his plate. No comforting roar of the Dodge Charger as he pulled into the drive or rustling of the shopping bags or takeout that he’d bring home. No one to coax you into his lap or out for a drive to nowhere after dinner when Gabe went to his room to game with his online friends.

You missed him. You felt the loss of him in every sense of the word. Like there was a hole in your lives and that house.

It hit you hard sometimes and then the tears would leak. There was really nothing you could do to stop it. Gabe was the same although it was usually on weekends when they’d have spent the most time together that he got the most upset. That’s when he truly felt the loss. Robbie used to take him to a nearby arcade on Saturday mornings and they’d maybe catch a movie after, forever making sure that Gabe got the childhood he never had.

“I miss him. I miss him so much.”

“I know, Gabe. I know.” You’d pet over his hair as soaked the material of your shirt with his tears. And as much as it pained you to hear it, you were always glad he cried. In fact, you encouraged him to. It was healthy and Christ did that kid have a lot to cry about. You’d never forget the way he cried when you told him what happened. He hiccuped in both grief for his brother and uncle and the prospect that he was now well and truly alone. He didn’t expect you to stay with him, he didn’t think you’d want to so when you told him that you’d stay in what was now legally his house so long as he wanted you to, he cried even harder. Neither of you had to be alone and you’d been looking after one another ever since.

These days he made a point of always hugging you goodnight, something he never really did before. And you knew that it was because he was afraid of losing you too. You might not have been family but you’d always treated each other as if you were. Now you bonded over your shared grief of losing Robbie. He was still just a kid and you didn’t put any more strain on him than he already had but he often insisted on making breakfast or dinner, lunch sometimes too so you had something good to eat at work. Meanwhile, you worked to keep the lights on, took him to school or his friend’s house, helped with homework and generally kept his spirits up.

You even went to a parent-teacher meeting with him once. He’d very sheepishly asked if you could come and said it was borderline hilarious the number of guardians he’d had come in his dead parent’s place. First uncle Eli, then Robbie and now you. A few of his teachers remembered his brother well despite him leaving the school a solid eight years prior. His English teacher said she nearly quit when she learned there was another Reyes child who’d be passing through the school as if Robbie hadn’t already nearly given her a stroke in previous years. She said he wasn’t disruptive, in fact, he was so respectful and polite that she could almost overlook the fact that he’d miss class constantly in favour of beating the shit out of the kids who bullied others or working rather than doing schoolwork.

“If I had a nickel for every note I had to send home to his Uncle, I could afford to live somewhere way less shitty than here.” She probably didn’t realise that he had to work because Eli couldn’t afford to take care of them by himself, or why he dropped out at seventeen to work full-time so he could make sure Gabe wouldn’t have to.

Those parent-teacher meetings were a drag. But it was good to know that despite everything, Gabe was still doing well and still on track for a scholarship or two.

You adored Gabe.

For all his rolling over your toes when he went off in a huff or the days where it was difficult being responsible for your dead boyfriend’s little brother. But you loved him like he was your own little brother, and tried to love him just as Robbie did.

It was his eyes that sometimes got the better of you though. He’d say good morning and produce a plate of food for you, brown eyes beaming with the morning dew. And those eyes, the same as his brother’s in colour and size, would crush you and force the memories of all times you’d gazed into those similar pools right to the surface. Gabe never could understand why you got so upset, sometimes seemingly completely at random, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him it was because he had his brother’s eyes. That the sight of his likeness was enough to turn your composure to dust.

Part of you missed working for SHIELD too. You missed your friends and the good work you did at your job. You didn't, however, miss the uniform. But even seeing the logo now just reminded you of that day. Being a civilian with a civilian job was so strange to you. There was no dealing with aliens or anything nearly as threatening on the day to day but some small part of you missed it.

Mack, Daisy and Coulson came around sometimes. Mack mainly came to check over the Charger but his face was a friendly one and you were always glad to see it. Coulson and Daisy usually came bearing groceries and news of how things were at SHIELD, with Coulson still trying to convince you to re-join after you quit on the spot when Eli and Robbie died.

“How’s Gabe?” Daisy asked, knowing he wouldn’t let her ask him herself. He blamed her partially for Robbie’s death having warned her not to get his brother mixed up in anything so dangerous as SHIELD. He hadn’t known then what his brother did at night but even now he still won’t look her in the eyes.

“He’s good. Somehow still on track for Harvard if he keeps his grades up. He’s even got a girlfriend now.” You told her and she smiled, “I think he’s trying to distract himself, keep himself busy so he doesn’t have to come to terms with the fact that he’s gone. Either that or he’s just putting on a brave face.”

Then she’d ask you the same thing she did every time she came to visit, “Are you doing okay?” and every time, you gave a weak “I will be,” in reply.

“Are you sleeping?”

“No, not really.” You were trying, truly you were. But every time you closed your eyes all you saw was the bright flash of orange that took him from you and every time you opened them you just saw the cold sheets at his side of the bed. When you did eventually get some sleep it was almost always whilst clinging to one of his old shirts on which his scent still lingered. You wouldn’t dare wear more than one or two for fear that you’d one day need to wash them all so you just cycled through his shirts until the smell on each one faded. It was the only way you could ever get to sleep.

Money was of course an issue and you received very little help from any authorities other than SHIELD due to the unorthodox nature of the situation. You weren’t a widow as you were never married and you couldn’t really be classed as Gabe’s guardian because of his age and your non-relation to him. But you’d sooner be damned than let him fall into the foster system. You’d do anything for that kid.

“SHIELD’s gone legit now. We can get you good lawyers.” Coulson said.

“Even with good lawyers, I don’t know how you’re going to sell the fact that the kid wants his dead brother’s girlfriend to be his legal guardian. Robbie doesn’t even have a death certificate.” Coulson’s heart was in the right place, it always was. But sometimes his optimism was misplaced.

Daisy’s eyes brightened, “We can forge one but Gabe would need to sign-“ you cut her off.

“No.” You stopped her from saying another word about it, “I’m not about to make him sign his own brother’s death certificate. He’s been through enough.”

It was a few weeks later when you heard a single creak in the floorboards at your bedroom doorway that was loud enough to wake you from what little sleep you had managed to get. It didn’t sound like Gabe’s wheelchair and he didn’t have any friends over so you were immediately on edge.

It smelt like something was burning, the air thick and bristled. You rolled out of bed immediately for fear that the house was on fire but then you saw a silhouette taking up most of the doorway. Based on the outline, it was a person and you stared for a second, just a second, before grabbing hold of the baseball bat at your bedside and making a move. When the shadow took one step inside your room, a hand outstretched towards you as the moonlight illuminated his features, you faltered and let the bat fall to the floor

“Robbie?” Shit, you must’ve been dreaming again. But you didn’t care.

You reached for him regardless, breath hitching when you touched something solid. You flattened your palm out on the centre of his chest where his jacket hung open, feeling the warmth and hellfire that bubbled within. His hand came to cover yours then and you looked up to see those brown eyes you’d gazed into so often and loved so dearly now damp and threatening to spill over with tears.

“I’m so sorry-“ he started but you engulfed him in a hug the second he opened his mouth. At that moment you couldn’t care less about why he wasn’t there, only that at that moment he was. You threw your arms around his neck when the tears started.

With a heave, he lifted your knees around his waist and carried you to the bedside where he sat with you in his lap.

He’d thought for so long about what to say and now that he finally had the chance, he told you everything. He told you about Eli, about the book of dark magic he’d read and been corrupted by was still around somewhere. How when he died, he clawed his way through hell. Literally. To get back to you. The demon inside him fought through hell to get back to that book and destroy it for good, he’d had the reigns fully in hell. Robbie was reduced to a passenger in his own body down there. Months without being able to live in his own skin.

“I can’t stay,” He told you, swallowing thickly, “He wants to take that book back.”

“Back?” You asked, already knowing full well what he meant. You just didn’t want it to be true.

He nodded solemnly as his jaw clenched, “To Hell.”

You held his cheek, searching his eyes. For what you didn’t know. Any indication he was kidding maybe? You didn’t find any. Instead, you only found pain and sadness. Guilt too.

“He said I can say goodbye to you and Gabe,” his voice cracked, “Then I have to go.”

He was lucky the demon allowed him that much of a privilege. It was only because the entire time he’d been in hell he had to deal with Robbie’s worrying, his longing nagging at the back of his mind. It was a courtesy only because he didn’t want to deal with that again.

“The thought of coming back to you has been the only damn thing that’s kept my heart beating. I would do anything to stay with you for good but I made a deal and he won’t let me stay until that book is gone.”

The last thing he wanted to do was give you false hope. He didn’t want you waiting up for him as you often did or putting your life on pause waiting for him to return when he had no idea when that would be. You deserved more and he wanted you to have that, even if it meant he might not have a place in your life when he did eventually return from the land of the dead. It wouldn’t be fair of him to expect that from you and so he never did.

He had that look in his eye he got when he was about to do something stupidly self-sacrificial for someone else’s sake and you weren’t about to hear it. Not now. You had a vague idea of what he wanted to say, that he never really deserved you in the first place and that he was sorry for all the pain he’d put you through, that he wouldn’t be upset when he got back if you chose to move on. But you knew he was damned and the risks and pain that came with it. And as much as he would never accept it, he was worth the pain.

You held him for as long as he could stay, knowing he was on borrowed time.

“Gabe’s got a girlfriend now. He finally made a move on Janet’s sister.” He blinked at you in awe, a smile spreading across his face, “You might wanna give him the talk before you go if you haven’t already.” As much as you loved that kid there was no way that was a conversation you were about to have with him.

He smiled wide at that and shook his head, “Already taken care of, chica.” They’d had that conversation far too early if he was being honest.

You held each other for what wasn’t nearly long enough to make up for the months apart. There was so much you both wanted to say and so little time to do it. You didn’t even know where to start, neither did he. So you just lay there in each other’s arms for as long as you could or until the demon got antsy.

You knocked on Gabe’s bedroom door and received a definitely still asleep reply.

“There’s someone here to see you.” You stood in his doorway, Robbie at your side waiting for Gabe’s eyes to open. When they did, he beamed and shouted in delight. You left them to it, not wanting to impose.

You waited in the living room, playing with the keys to the Dodge Charger in your fingers. When Robbie finally emerged from Gabe’s room, his eyes wet with hastily wiped tears, he made a beeline for you once more. “Thank you,” He kissed your forehead and tugged you as close to him as he could, “For everything you’ve done for Gabe. And for me.”

“He’s family and so are you.” You mumbled. He dragged a palm over his face again, wiping his tears.

“Gabe said I’m to ask you to marry me when I get back. To make you officially a Reyes.” You looked to him in question, “I told him that it was entirely your decision cause I’d marry you in a heartbeat. And it’s bold of him to assume you’d take my name.”

“Kid’s got some bold assumptions for sure.” You played coy, there was no way he was getting an answer out of you that easily. You knew he wasn’t asking you anyways, just telling you what Gabe had said.

“I’ll take that as a maybe.” He laughed. The prospect of marriage would never be a question for the two of you, it would always be a conversation. Something you’d decide on together.

“Take it as an order to get your ass back here and find out.” You smiled and kissed his cheek, “I love you. Please come back in one piece.”

“I love you too, Cariña. Take care of yourself,” he closed your fingers over the keys to the Dodge Charger so they were safely caged in your hand, “and my baby.”

Oh, you’d take care of his baby alright.

With one last bone crushing hug and a kiss, he was gone again. And for the first time in months, you felt whole. Even if he was going back to suffer, to trudge his way through Hell once he got ahold of that book. The promise that he’d return to you for good this time was one you knew he’d keep, no matter how long it took him to do so.

It was enough for you and it was enough for Gabe too.

The next time Daisy visited she said it’d probably be the last for a while. She and the team were in hiding from the authorities. She said she didn’t have the time to explain.

“You okay?” She asked as she usually did, knowing Robbie had been back to you before going to help them get that book back so he could bring it down to Hell.

“I will be,” you replied, and for the first time in a while you meant it.

Tagging (the horni for Ghost Rider squad): @icy-spicy @spring-soldier

#robbie reyes x reader #robbie reyes #ghost rider x reader #ghost rider #agents of shield #angst #fluff #my writing #fic #mine

[strawberryspence]

Vienna

Angst | Spencer Reid x FEM! BAU! Female

Summary: Spencer meets the love of his life while Reader continues to the search for her love for life.

Word Count: 2,1k.

Warnings: angst, no happy ending, reference to having sex, lots of sentimental stuff, rossi has a part in this he was the only old OLD member

Writer’s Note: Hello! I am sad, so this happened... I wanted to clear up that I used the song Vienna in this, tho the meaning of the song is more of a “slow down, you have a whole life ahead of you.” I took the song and made it the direct opposite which for me is “find yourself and never stop until you find it. vienna (your destined destination) waits for you.” I didn’t edit this and I wrote it in one sitting so I am sorry for the mistakes. This is basically me venting out my emotions and I am not entirely sure if this made sense.

Spencer knew that you would change his life the moment you stepped foot in the BAU conference room.

You were a new agent with a fiery passion for the job. You were a Psychology Professor before quitting and took up Criminology and after that you ended up in the BAU. You were eager to learn, always on the go and was always energetic to do any job Hotch gives you. You had a heart of gold and would do absolutely anything for anyone in the team and Spencer was in no doubt completely in love with you.

It took Spencer a year and a month to finally ask you out. By this time, you were already close. It wasn’t hard to be friends with you, you radiate warmth and brightness and you were always so kind to everyone. He honestly felt embarrassed and weak. You were this amazing, strong person but Spencer... he was only Spencer.

“W-would you like to get dinner? Or... L-like coffee?” Spencer fidgets with his fingers, staring at his stained converse as it lines up to your black ankle boots. The contrast was jarring, it shows the two opposite spectrums of your personalities. When he looks up, your face was hard to read and it makes his heart beat harder against his chest.

“Like... a date?” Spencer watches as you chew on your inner cheek, something you do when you’re nervous or anxious.

“Yes... But if you don’t want to it’s okay! You can forget what I sai—“ Spencer raises his hand as a sign of goodbye, as the other grips his satchel. He turns halfway before you hold his catch his arms, stopping him from leaving.

“No! I want dinner! I mean, coffee! Whatever it is!” He looks back at you, a smile now forming in your face, and no matter how many times Spencer have seen it, it still catches he’s breathe.

“Really?” A grin starts forming in his face as he watches a shade of pink color your cheeks, “Yes. Tell me when and where. I’ll be there.”

The date was perfect. Spencer picks you up with a bouquet of daisies in his hands. You pick one of the daisies, clipping it in your hair for the rest of the night making it hard for Spencer to look away from you for the rest of the night. He reserved a table for two in a small, quaint cafe. Even with the nerves Spencer had, the date went smoothly. You talked, he talked and it was just like any other day but this time it was a date.

That date leads to another one, and another one, and another one, until you both finally made it clear that you two were dating.

It leads to numerous adventures.

To museums where Spencer becomes your own tour guide, where he teaches you everything he can teach you, where he watches you become one of the beautiful art pieces and where he realizes that he can take something so beautiful and surreal home.

To libraries where Spencer opens a book, any genre, and reads it you as you both take a journey to another world together, where you watch him read books that he probably already have memorized in the back of his head and where you realized that the world is so much bigger than you thought. More than anything it makes you itch for that world.

To movie nights which more often than so ends up with you on his lap, making out like you were both craving for something only the other can give. If it does, you both end up in bed, tangled in each other as both of you catch your breathe as you make love to one another. If it doesn’t, you both watch a movie chosen by the other and just sit in comfortable silence, cuddled into each others warm body.

To coffee shops where you both try as many different kinds of pastries, making a list of which one has the best pastries. The little corner shop down the street near the library is where Spencer learns that you liked croissants but only if they had chocolate in them. In the cafe down on 5th near the pet store, you learned that Spencer liked his blueberry muffin with cream cheese. The expensive, posh coffee shop in the high end street is where you were both kicked out for laughing way too much when you both realize that a muffin costs ten dollars each.

It leads to numerous sleepovers on Spencer’s double bed. Waking up to a new day with you was the best thing in the morning. Waking up tangled with your limbs all around him, waking up to you making him his favorite coffee and pancakes in bed, waking up to your naked body pressed unto him as you dream of him some place else.

It leads to home cooked dinners with silly dance numbers in the middle, warm hugs after hard cases and silent whispers of It’s okay’s, picnics in the park with packed sandwiches and it leads to five hundred, eighty one, forever treasured I love you’s.

One date leads you to numerous adventures and dates with Spencer.

But it was also a year and a month into the relationship when Emily video calls you both for a job offer in Interpol. She says, it would be a breathe of fresh air for the both of you. A new adventure. Together.

Spencer was set in his ways. Virginia was the closest thing he’ll ever have to a home and that’s because of the BAU. They were family. Penelope and JJ are the sisters he never had. Will, Henry and Michael was his extended family. Derek is his best friend and he loved being near him and Hank. Hotch and Rossi was the closest thing he’ll get to some kind of a father figure and he didn’t want to lose that in his life. He has long set his roots in this place, his home and he immediately shakes his head and declines.

He looks over you when the silence was to deafening to ignore and it doesn’t take a profiler to see the hesitation in your face. There was a spark in your eyes, the same one he saw when you first came to the BAU, the spark of excitement. You look at him and you see the way his eyes shines with sadness as he realizes that this was what you wanted. You shake your head at Emily and declines.

Emily smiles as she says her goodbye before reassuring both of you that there will always be a position open for the both of you in her team if ever anyone changes their mind.

That one video call leads to exactly six fights about the job opportunity. Spencer knew that you wanted to go and the selfish part of him wanted to hold unto you. So he did, he held, and he held, and he held until he couldn’t anymore.

Spencer stays late at the BAU one night. The two of you haven’t been the same since the job offer. You have left earlier to go home as he stares at the place he has called his home. Can he leave this? Was his love for you enough to leave everything he has known half his life?

“What’s keeping you here?” Spencer snaps out of the thought, looking up from his paper work to Rossi leaning over the railing right across his office.

“Nothing.” He looks back down, but he can see Rossi giving him a soft smile, “News flies fast around here.”

Spencer snaps back his head, “What?” Rossi nods, “We all know.” He continues to chew on his lip.

“I don’t know what to do.” Rossi walks down the stairs, walking closer to Spencer, “You remember Y/N’s first few weeks?” Spencer nods, the memory of your first week still vivid in his mind.

“You remember how before she was in the BAU she was a psychology professor? When she came on her first day,” Rossi smiles, reminiscing as he continues, “Remember how eager she was to do everything? There was this spark in her eyes and she was just passionate about the job and to learn?” Spencer nods again.

“Kid, in my life, I have met two kinds of people. The Mover and The Homebody. The Mover is the one who moves, they never get enough of the high that life can give, they go around looking for more adventures to learn and to help them grow,” Rossi looks down at him, a sad smile on his face, “Then there is the Homebody. Its not a bad thing to stay in one place. They are the ones who set roots in one place and grows in that place, they get comfortable and make that place in their life their home.”

“Are you saying I am a homebody? And Y/N is a mover?” Rossi forces a smile, giving his shoulder a pat.

“If you’re so smart then tell me, why are you still so afraid.” Rossi sings before giving him one last smile as he turns his back, not giving Spencer the chance to ask what he meant.

Spencer later learns from Penelope that it was a song written by Billy Joel. He asks Penelope if he can hear it by himself in her bat cave and she immediately agrees, leaving him alone with a song someone wrote in 1977 that perfectly fits and embodies you. As the final beats hit his ears, Spencer lets go of you.

The next twenty one days comes in a swift. Spencer stands in the airport as the team says their teary goodbyes to you. The team leaves to give the two of you space and privacy to say your goodbye.

“Spencer... I am sorry.” Spencer gives a smile. It wasn’t fake, there was no bad blood. He wanted to let you go, to go find the best version of yourself.

“This is what you need in your life to grow. I am happy for you.” Your eyes sparkle in tears as your heart softens.

“I’ll be back, if you are still in the same place as we are today, can we pick up were we left?” Spencer nods, as he opens his satchel and reaches in for a box.

You open it and inside is the same daisy you pinned in your hair on your first date, but it was dried and framed. You look up at him with questions in your eyes, “I stole it from you after our first date. I kept it for future purposes but it’s more suiting to give it to you right now.”

“Last call for passengers of flight 582 bound for London. Again, last call for passengers of flight 582 bound for London.” You both look at each other as the announcement rings through your ears

“I love you.” You whisper. Spencer gathers up all the courage he has and pulls you into one last kiss. His hands stays on the curve of your neck as he pulls you closer to him and as you snake your arms around his arms.

Spencer kisses you with fervour and fear. This was the last he’ll kiss you and if he had to tattoo it in the back of his mind he will. He will remember the distinct taste of your peach lip balm, the way your lips moves against him and how your hand presses hard on his back to pull him closer. Spencer pulls away when a voice in his head screams at him to not let you go. He had to let you go now before he change his mind, screams and beg you to stay with him. His heart breaks a little more as he sees tears flowing down your cheeks.

You pull him into one last hug and it sinks in, his holding you for the last time. He tries to memorize how your hands wrap around his neck and how you perfectly fit between his arms. Your body vibrates as you sob against him.

You pull away from him with tear stained cheeks and barely catching your breathe, you smile through it as you wave at him, “Goodbye Spencer.” You sobbed as you start backing away from him. You see him clench his hand as tears start filling his eyes.

“I can’t wait to meet who you’re going to be. Good luck, Y/N.” Spencer raises his hand to wave at you as the inches between the two of you grow bigger.

“Thank you. I love you.” You bid him goodbye before turning your back on him and running to your gate number. Spencer smiles through his tears as you give your ticket to the airport staff. You look back at Spencer and give him one last smile before boarding the airplane.

“Vienna waits for you, my love.”

-

taglist (if you want to be added, please message me 🥰): @all-tings-diego @shemarmooresfedora @averyhotchner @samuel-de-champagne-problems @bingereid @sweetandsunny @reidsbookclub @spencerreid-187

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #mgg #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer x fem!reader #spencer x you #spencer x y/n #spencer reid au #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds blurb #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction

[bokettochild]

I just finished reading The Ties that Bind, and I love it! I have a small suggestion, one that you could completely ignore if you would like. Will Fable, Legend’s Zelda, meet Sky? Or Sky and the rest of the chain? I feel like that would be fun. But this is just an idea that I had, I’m not pressuring you do to anything.

I'm sorry it took so long to get to your ask, Anon! I've been thinking about this for a while, and the truth is that, while I would LOVE to have Sky meet all of his daughters at some point, I don't know if it will happen in the main plot of the story itself.

Currently in the story, they are in Legend's Hyrule, so there is a good chance of it happening, I just don't know if it will.

Considering this came along with various fic requests, I did end up writing something where they 'meet' but.. I'm terribly sorry, it's entirely crack, and I took way too many liberties with it.

I hope it will do to hold you over until Fable can make an actual appearance in the story!

“So, we finally get to meet your sister?” Hyrule asked, following as Legend led their group down the halls of Hyrule castle.

“Yes.”

“Yes!” Wind pumped his fists. “The only Zelda we haven’t met! I wonder what she’s like?”

“Kickass.” Legend smirked, stopping before one of the opulent doors and turning to face them. “I’d watch yourselves.”

There were a lot of things the Chain was expecting to see when they walked through the doors, but Warriors wasn’t expecting to see a young woman who looked quite ridiculously like Legend, if not for the haircut, spinning around to see look at them before having a wide smile break over her face.

“Z?”

“Link!” And the princess was running, running forwards with feather soft, tinkling laughter into the arms of...Wild? “Oh, Link! I haven’t seen you in ages! Why, look at you! Growing your hair out I see.” Another giggle drifted into the air as the girl brushed a hand through the Champion’s messy bangs.

Wild flushed slightly, much to the shock of all present, but especially to Legend, who stared between the two with his mouth hanging open.

“Everyone’s missed you so terribly, especially after you disappeared so suddenly! The Master was absolutely furious.” Fable added with a nervous laugh, smacking Wild’s arm lightly. “Thank goodness I can tell him all is well and you didn’t get killed or something, we thought he’d oust Robin for good when we couldn’t find you!”

Wild winced, nodding slightly. “I’m on another quest, but maybe I can send a letter? The mail system is working pretty well, for some reason.”

“Not out of Hyrule unfortunately.” Fable pouted, seemingly taking no interest in noticing the rest of them for the moment, instead continuing to stand in Wild’s personal space, neither having quite let go from their unexpected and rather startling hug. “Without you, the Master has closed all contact with Hyrule; I don’t think he wanted anything else to happen, especially since Mother would have been furious if someone else had gone missing.”

“Wait,” Warriors turned to see Wind staring at the- couple? Duo? “Zelly?”

“Tune!” Fable squeaked, pulling away from Wild and darting over to hug the second smallest hero. “My goodness you’ve grown! Are the two of you on an adventure together then? Wonderful!” Ocean blue eyes trailed up to look at the rest of their gang and Fable brightened even more. “Why, all of you are here!”

“All of us?” He couldn’t keep confusion from his tone as he spoke, quirking a brow.

“Well, nearly all,” Fable frowned, setting Wind down to gently stroke her chin. “And here I hoped to see Young Link again.”

Warriors was going to lose his mind. “Young Link?” His eyes turned to Time, who smiled with a light flush, raising one hand in a nearly shy wave.

“Hey, Zelly.”

The princess gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth as she stared upwards to meet Time’s gaze. “Young Link? My. Goodness! Look- Oh my! You’re all grown up, aren’t you? I declare, you get even more terrifying than half of the others!”

“Legend,” Sky was grinning as bright and warm as the princess, eyes sparkling in the same manner and erasing any doubt that he was the young woman’s ancestor. “You didn’t tell us your sister was The Princess Zelda!”

Legend stared up at his ancestor in disbelief before shaking off Sky’s hands and throwing up his own. “That’s it,” The vet spun on his heel and turned towards the door. “I’m gonna go bang my head against the wall for an hour, toodles.”

“Well,” Fable turned to Sky with a bright grin. “It is wonderful to see you again, Link. Good heavens, how on earth do all of you handle being ‘Link’, it was bad enough having you all switch out, but now you’re all together at once! How do you handle it?”

“I go by Sky,” The Skyloftian replied with a fond smile. “He’s Wild, Wind, and Time. We use our hero titles.”

“Oh! That is clever! Sheik and I both have different names, so I suppose had it easy, I’m surprised no one thought of that before, what with how you all switched out so often- oh!” And the princess was spinning around to look up at Twi. “We’ve missed you too of course, but I must ask, since you’re all apparently time-traveling or some nonsense, could you give a message to your Zelda for me? I haven’t seen her in ever so long, and I do miss being able to talk over things with her.”

“I’ll pass it along.”

“You too.” She turned to Time, brows furrowing lightly. “Sheif is so terrible about writing to me, and I’ve missed being able to ask for advice with my fighting skills.”

“Understood.” Time grinned, earning a mirror expression from the princess.

How the heck was everyone taking this all in stride? Was Legend’s sister...dating Wild or some shit? How did she know Wind and Time? How did she know Sky? How did she know any of them?

“So,” Twilight cocked a hip and stared down at the princess with a warm smile. “They let you stay around, even after switching out all of us?”

“Yep! I am, apparently, quite the favorite. As is L- I mean Wild.” She sent a warm smile towards said hero, who flushed with pleasure. Ew.

“Should’a known it, he's a good kid.”

“He says you mentored him, so I suppose that can be attributed, in part, to you!”

“Aw, thanks, Zelly.”

Warriors would like a drink now please.

“Wait,” Four stared at the princess, eyes slitted and brows furrowed in a way that revealed he was clearly having a headache as well. “You’re- good grief- you know all of us, don’t you?”

Warriors really needs a drink. Seriously? Four too?

“And who are you?” Fable cocked her head.

Four flushed, ducking his head. “Hero of the Four Sword.”

Like a switch had been flipped, recognition sparked in Fable’s gaze. “Oh! That- that makes sense! I had forgotten, I suppose, how you all- well-” She waved her hand vaguely, and while none of the others seemed to understand it (thank Hylia he wasn’t the only one), Four apparently did. “You don’t think it’s weird?”

“Heavens no!” Fable drew back, looking mildly offended. “Link- my Link- or rather, my brother- Good heavens, what on earth do you all call him?”

“Idiot. Pain in the ass. Veteran.” Warriors listed off, making sure his displeasure with being left out of the conversation was made very clear.

“Legend.” Hyrule answered, shooting a glare Warriors’ way.

“Legend, my, that fits,” Fable shook her head with another tinkling laugh. “Does the same thing, albeit in a different manner and without the use of the Four Sword.”

“Heard that!” Legend shouted from just outside the room. “Stop telling them things!”

“Then come in here and make me, you sissy!”

The vet stormed back in, cheeks red and brow looking considerably more bruised than it had been ten minutes previous. “Not a sissy.”

“Yet you only appear on occasion, and never fight?” The princess snarked, hands on her hips.

“Do I look like I have the time to be fighting?” Legend returned, mirroring her pose with enough attitude to match the blue flames of the princess’s gaze.

“Well, if you have time to play dress up-”

“Necessary for a mission, miss ‘I fight duels in my regalia’.”

“I win duels in my regalia, thank you very much.”

“Heck yeah you do.” And was that- pride in the vet’s voice? “You scare the shit out of all of them.”

“I always was the better of the two of us at doing that, you just spend your time talking to cuckos and wearing my clothes.” The princess smirked.

Legend didn’t even have the decency to flush, crossing his arms with a smirk of his own. “You have to admit, I look better in it than you do.”

“Yes.” Fable beamed. “Yes, you do, and I hate it.” Her smile said the opposite but the conversation seemed to be over at that, the princess turning to continue conversing with the other heroes only to spin around again and clap her hands. “Oh! You're off exploring and adventuring, so you drop a message for me! Tell Peach and Daisy that I’m awful sorry I missed tea last time, we’ve been trying for weeks to get around to it, but with L- Wild having disappeared, the Master simply won’t give me the free time and Mother’s been just as strict.”

Legend pouted. “Only if they’re the only ones home, if I have to see that insufferable plumber’s face again I think I might just punch him.”

“Please do.” Fable spat. “He used that stupid hat of his to mind control me and make me kick the crap out of my team.”

“He mind controlled my sister?” Legend hissed.

“Yes, that dumb hat of his is sentient now, and he can force us to do things.”

“I hate that thing.” Wild scowled.

“Same.” Several others echoed.

Sky looked between them all. “Are we talking about Mario? Because if so, Legend, I will totally join you in punching him in the face, that guy is a pain!”

“Oh, him!” Hyrule scowled. “I don’t like him; he grates on my nerves like nobody's business.”

“He’s worse than Tingle.” Wind added, face screwed up in distain.

“Seconded.” Twilight and Time called out together.

“Third, Fourth, Fifth and sixthed.” Four added.

“Just because your name is ‘Four’ doesn’t mean you get four votes.” Warriors groaned, staring at his companions in irritation. “And who the heck are you all talking about? How do all of you know him? Is he immortal?”

“Hylia, I hope not.” Nine voices groaned at once.

“Neighboring kingdom.” Legend replied. “The Mushroom kingdom’s own hero is an idiot plumber by the name of Mario. His twin isn’t bad, but he’s a piece of work. I’ve had to deal with outbreaks of monsters from their kingdom on multiple occasions because he can’t keep them contained. Add in there that their princess is captured every other Tuesday because the guy can’t up and beat her kidnapper for good, and the kingdoms a mess.” Legend paused, frowning. “Wait, I just agreed to go there, didn’t I?”

“Yep.” Fable chirped. “But don’t worry, Bowser is hanging out with his kids this weekend, so he shouldn’t be causing problems while you’re all here.”

Warriors groaned, this time, loud enough that all of them heard him. “Bowser? Are you on a familiar enough standing with some villain that he tells you his weekend plans?”

“Yes.” The twin siblings answered, Fable bright and cherry while Legend deadpanned.

“We even play sports with him on occasion.” Fable added.

“And who,” Warriors tacked on, absolutely done and uncaring for the fact that apparently Legend and Fable played golf or something with their neighboring kingdoms greatest threat. “The heck! Is Mario?”

Nine pairs of eyes stared back at him for a moment, blinking in confusion.

“You know,” Twilight stated slowly. “Has anyone actually ever seen Wars at an event?”

“Come to think of it,” Fable tapped her chin. “You are the only one I’ve never seen before.”

“The only one?” Can Warriors please get a drink?

“I’ve met all of the others, be it in racing, sports, fighting matches, any number of things, but I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you, much less heard of you. Who are you?”

“That,” Legend smirked. “Is the Hero of Warriors. And I don’t know if I should laugh or feel bad that he was never popular enough to get selected for the games.”

“You weren’t either.” Wind hissed.

“Mom said I was on bed rest from being struck by lightning.” Legend waved him off. “I’ve had my time in the Mushroom kingdom, and if they ever do invite me back, I’d burn that Smash invite so fast the Master would think it never arrived.”

That’s it. He’s done. “Legend, I’m stealing your thunder-”

“Please do.”

“I’m going to go bang my head against the wall until the world makes sense again, or until I black out, Bye.” And with that, Warriors left.

(This entire fic was inspired by @tortilla-of-courage, her blog had a stint of asks about the boys knowing each other from Mario Kart and whatnot and it set my brain spinning. I blame her that this was the only thing I could think of when trying to write Sky meeting Fable. Thank's Tortilla!)

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe crack fics #crack #crackship #sort of #it's there if you squint #Fable/Wild #don't @ me #aslo #in case you're wondering #The Master is the master hand from Smash #and 'Mother' is Hylia #yes #she is fable's and Legend's mom #at least for this fic #shoot meh #legend hate's mario #so does everyone else #except wars #its funny this way #warriors has no freaking clue who mario is #(because he isn't cannon lol) #i might continue this #if I feel up to it in the future #fable lu

[jamiedc-they-them]

Forgive and forget what happened in another time (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: After the incident with the Doctor, Daisy and Jemma see how much it hurt you and do what they can to help, but there is only one person who can really help. Fitz

Leopold Fitz, that name used to make you feel safe, happy, protected. A name of a brother figure, of a best friend.

Now, it was a name of danger, of hurt, of caution; of someone who once meant the world to you, but now a complicated thing. That was the what the name brought now. 

Your hand went to the wound he had caused you, a bullet wound; the scar being patched up by Jemma, who had been doing all she could for you. 

“Knock knock.” You heard Daisy said a your door swished open, there was no knock that was a lie, only the words and swoosh of the door to alert you of her presence in your room. 

You quickly put the shirt down, covering the scar, but you saw her eye go to where it would be on your front (your back was to her, you had turned your head to look at you, even then you only saw her from the corner of your eye) and her smile was sympathetic. 

She had her scar too, running her hand along the back of her neck.

“Hey.” You greeted, trying to sound like you both thinking about the same thing.

“Hey.” She parroted back, trying to do the same thing. 

You cleared your throat, fully turning to your friend and crossing your arms, “So, what’s up?” You asked.

She suddenly remembered why she was here, “We’re gonna be landing soon, gonna need you there with me.” She said, giving you a smile, one you mirrored. 

She hated this, seeing her sibling in pain like this; she hated that your brother figure hurt you both. 

You had found where his ship was after interrogating one of the crew, all you had to do was get to it. 

As you walked, with Daisy leading, Jemma grabbed you by the arm and held you back, “Y/N, if this is it, then --” 

“Now’s not the time.” You said, trying to get her to release you so you could just end this journey. 

“When is the time?” She pressed; you looked at her in the eyes, this journey had made her go to dark places, but she was still the caring soul you met all that time ago.

“Not now,” You said, removing the hand, “Besides, if it is him...then he’ll be with you, and Daisy can do the talking for me.” 

You entered the part of the ship you needed through the ceiling, with Jemma leading the way. You found the pod, and you waited with baited breath. She looked to you and Daisy, two of her best friends in the whole world who had followed her out here for this one moment. 

Her face dropped when she opened it...nothing was there, only some blood. 

She stayed in the pod for a bit, breaking down. You, meanwhile, sat in the commons room, alone, and you allowed yourself to admit it. 

You were happy that he wasn’t. 

And part of you hated yourself for it. 

“Y/N,” Jemma called out to you, you looked up to her, “I need you for something.” 

That was a bit of a stretch, it was more of a team meeting, and something she had spotted on the pod, writing. 

In a language she knew apparently. 

You and Daisy were trying to keep the rest of you guys in check, and at the same time get Simmons to see that you would not survive this trip. 

She, however, saw it differently.

She, however, pulled the lever and sent you deeper into space, chasing after a translation.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jemma knew, she knew that you were pissed by that option; and as much as she defended it, she saw the toll all this was taking on you. 

But, this was her husband, she wasn’t going to just leave him stranded, even if the chance of finding him was small. 

“Y/N --” She said, having a moment alone with you before they went to the city of Kitson, a place apparently only the worst people would go. 

“Don’t.” You were firm with your words, and she could detect the bite. 

“Y/N, please --” Again, she couldn’t finish. 

“You had no right!” 

“I have to find him, Y/N. You would do the same if it was Daisy, me, or anyone else.” She couldn’t stop the words, her goal of finding her husband stopping her from seeing the consequences of her words.

Those consequences came when your eyes widened, almost at the audacity of the words said, before you let out a humourless chuckle, “‘Anyone else’ hasn’t shot me while I’ve tried to free my sister from his split. I get it, not fully in his control, his trauma too, but what about mine, Jemma? You expect me to just move on from it? Sure, Daisy’s done better, but --”

“You don’t need to compare yourself to her, Y/N. You’re making your own progress, I promise…” She was torn, and you could tell. 

“Whatever, let’s just go, ok?” She could tell things were a bit icey between you both, but she knew that you both still cared for each other, even during this time. 

You went to Kitson, yourself and the two girls getting high as a kite in your search, “Co-come on, Y/N...We need to find our british friend.” Daisy said, holding onto your hand and bringing you through the crowds. You had no idea where Jemma had gone, part of your brain wondering if she was real…

If what Fitz had done was real. 

She was, as you found out, being brought onto the floor in a crawl as you went under the table to find some solace from the people.

You observed the surroundings, eyes wide as you blinked a few times, but you swore you saw a man in a suit, a beard and an emotionless expression on his face staring at you a few times in the crowd, but each time you just shook your head and he was gone.

A blaring ‘dolphin’ noise brought the three of you out, it was a signal. But Chronicoms were on your tail, so you both looked to Jemma, assuring her that - despite your states - you could handle them. Jemma looked to you and smiled, glad you still had her back. 

She went, and you and your sister got to work, Daisy spinning on the table and you throwing glasses at the trained opponents. It was funny, how you both almost reverted to how you were before all this - you throwing glasses in a bar fight - and her distracting herself during a conflict and having fun with it. 

With that cleared up, Jemma had news for you. 

“He’s alive.” She told you, and she knew where to go. 

Your search led you to a Chromicom ship, or rather the ship. But, you saw him for the first time --

Not the doctor who had hurt you and your sister --

Not the man who had a split and lost for a moment to his demons --

But your best friend, your brother. Jemma’s husband --

Leopold Fitz.

Daisy was all but ready to make do on her threat of Fitz being hurt again, she’d tear the ship apart. She knew this wasn’t the Fitz that had hurt her, had hurt you. 

You were willing to do a lot of things to get him back, but forgiving him would be another thing. 

You had tried a runner, only for you to find yourself surrounded; you and Daisy were more than ready to fight --

But Jemma stopped you; you couldn’t quite focus on her words, your heart racing as you saw the tears in Daisy’s and Jemma’s eyes. 

This was a goodbye between you three siblings. 

Jemma then looked to you, shaky smile on her lips, “Y/N --” She wanted to say something, anything to help make this better. But she couldn’t think of anything. 

Her youngest sibling was hurting, just as much as her other younger sister. 

You brought her into a hug, one she returned, no other words were spoken; you both just hugged. 

Then she was gone, and you were going home with a member gone, maybe forever. 

As you went home, Daisy found you in your room, she sat next to you, not saying anything but she knew her presence would help. 

Hell, it had helped her, she knew how you both worked. You were her best friend since birth, brought up together in the orphanage. Now, you were more hurt than you were before. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Still, you went back to earth, the ever present image of Jemma Simmon walking away, to whatever her fate held, was etched into your mind. 

You felt Daisy’s gaze on you every so often as you got closer to home. Still, no words were spoken, just the gaze of, not concern, just care. Was she worried? Yeah, but she knew displaying that to you would only make you go further into your hole you had dug for yourself. 

Still, you disembarked and found yourself now in a new situation, a new trauma; Phil Coulson had returned...sort of. 

It was him in the physical form, just not the...mental form? Still, it threw yourself and Daisy, just how seeing Fitz (the older version you cared for dearly) threw you earlier. 

You and Daisy walked away, trying to ignore what you had just seen. It didn’t, however, work that way. 

You instead ended up on the man’s (Sarge) truck, going to stop someone known as Izel, you didn’t care who she was, just that she was a threat to your family. 

So, on board you went. 

He pulled you up to the front, Daisy giving you a pat on the shoulder for encouragement as you went; you gave her a smile before entering. 

“So, smiley tells me you went off to space.” He said, wasting no time it seemed. 

You nodded, “Had a little trip, sure.” 

“What for?” 

“It wasn’t for you, if that’s what you’re getting at.” 

He scoffed, “Trust me, I might have an ego, but not that high of one. What were you really looking for?” 

“Why do you wanna know?” 

“Snow’s...difficult, but I’ve known her long enough to know when she needs to talk.” 

“You offering me a shoulder?” 

“A cold one. But you seem to be more open than your sister. All she wanted to talk about was me.” 

“She’s always been inquisitive.” 

“And you're sensitive.” 

“Was.” 

“Sounds like there’s a story there.” Wow, he was not stopping. 

“I will when you do.” He smirked. 

And he did, just to spite you it seemed; he opened up about Izel and his past; how his planet was destroyed and how revenge and hate drove him. 

He lied at one point, saying it was love, but he quickly said it was the hate that drove him instead. 

Love drove you, you knew that, but also fear. Fear of who Fitz would be.

Sarge looked at you, eyes almost daring you to open up; Daisy caught the look, quickly brining the attention back to her and away from you. She hated it, the look in his eyes, the amusement he got from causing you that discomfort. 

Then he was gone, he was out and you were barreling for a tower filled with Shrike (little bat things) that would infect everyone. 

Sarge was gone, and you were going to slam into the tower with a nuke. 

Deke did what he could to try and defuse it, but was unsuccessful. 

Daisy looked to you, seeing you only staring at the bomb that would now surely take your life; you looked devastated. Her eyes softened as she took one of your hands in her own, she gave it a squeeze, a silent “I love you.” 

Then it all went black…

Only, you woke up. You woke up to Daisy over the bomb with her powers making it go back into the bomb. 

She took care of the shrike too, vaporizing them as they entered. 

Then...then he entered. Leopold Fitz…

It was different seeing him in person, actually seeing him. 

Deke had hugged him.

Daisy smiled, as did May. 

You did, a small amount; he looked like his innocent self, not the beared man who had hurt him. 

But he was still there...always there deep down. 

You had a party, and he smiled at you; you lifted your bottle up, but your smile wasn’t as full as it used to be. 

You left early. 

Then you were forced to work together, looking into what made Sarge...well, Sarge, as Daisy spoke to him. 

She let it all out, the vitreal, the anger at this situation. Fitz chanced a look to you, seeing how you kept your distance, didn’t look at him. 

“Y/N...are you ok?” He asked; Jemma even paused what she was doing to look over at you in concern. 

You gulped, just hearing his voice made you go back mentally, “...Yeah, fine.” You said, trying to hang tough. 

His hand hit your shoulder, and you flinched away, slapping the hand away. He ignored the pain, he just kept his hands up and took a step back. 

“...I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” You said, walking away, ignoring Jemma saying your name softly as you left. 

You went back to your retreat. You felt the place shake, but you just hid yourself more. You couldn’t do this, your hand went to your wound as you felt the burning from it when you were shot. You heard the broken of “NO!” From both Daisy and Jemma. You --

You felt a hand on your shoulder, a soft one and yet you still cried out at it. The hand stayed, however, and you felt yourself be pulled into a hug. 

“I got you, Y/N...I got you.” It was Daisy, and you felt her tears hit you on the top of your head as you sobbed. 

You stayed like that for a bit, with you just sobbing into her as you took yourself back to what would have been your death had...had Jemma not acted so quickly. 

Jemma, the woman who had been by your side this whole time, along with Daisy of course. But Jemma never forced you into anything about the topic, she respected your boundaries. 

“Is...is he?” You started to ask before you hiccuped.

“He wanted to wait...but he understands if you don’t --”

“No, no I wanna see him...It...I can’t just ignore him forever.” You said, Daisy still holding you close.

“Ok...ok.” She said, kissing you on your head before helping you up and bring you to the door.

She opened it, and you smiled at your brother. Not the doctor. But Leopold Fitz, the man who hadn’t lost to his demons. 

And he smiled back softly. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daisy gave you a hug before departing on her mission, and that left you with Fitzsimmons. Jemma stood on one side, Fitz on the other. 

You stood as a united trio as you watched the mission occur. 

“Y/N, I...I’m sorry.” You let him finish this time. 

This time, you also looked at him, “It -- it wasn’t you.” 

“...I know. But, I still did it.” He said, not wanting to let himself of the hook.

You nodded sadly, “We fixed the timeline...We saved you, we’re all back together now...I’m sure we’ll get there with us, anyway.” 

He smiled, he knew you would, and he hoped dearly that he would. 

Jemma smiled, glad you were starting to heal. 

Now though, without knowing, it would be a while before you would see your friends again fully...

#daisy johnson imagine #daisy johnson x reader #jemma simmons imagine #jemma simmons x reader #agents of shield imagine #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d imagine #leopold fitz imagine

[costellos]

a/n: I’ve been reminiscing on a lot of cheesy romcoms and one of my favorite tropes are “dates that aren’t officially dates but basically are dates.” we love a good yearning. that said, here are some #unofficialofficialdates that the boys use to spend time with you!

tw: mentions of drugs

❥ ┋ ❝ bucci gang & what excuses they use to get closer to you!

bruno bucciarati.

Bucciarati gets closer to you by having you assist him at “fundraisers.” 

Passione holds a handful of events throughout the year. elaborate parties with expensive champagne, mindless chatter, and some very high-profile attendees. people will join to officialize deals, buy drugs, and of course, donate to keep Passione thriving.

Bucciarati usually goes alone, acting as a representative for his escort team. this isn’t the type of scene you’d see the others at. but up until your joining, you’ve found yourself as his sole companion.

it began as a way to familiarize yourself with mobster life. his idea, of course. although he didn’t push the idea, he’d be lying if he said he hoped you would accept. ↳ “it’s not required, but the company would be nice.”

it’s an odd affair. celebrities and politicians join and no one blinks an eye. it’s not where you’d usually find yourself on a Saturday night, with you and your partner dressed to the nines (okay, maybe not a usual scene for you; Bucciarati always had something beautiful draped onto his figure).

the hors d'oeuvres and cocktails are nice, at least. but you find yourself drawn to your conversations with Bucciarati the most.

he makes you feel welcome at every event, that you deserve to be here as much as the starlet making her grand appearance. you’re unsure that you can handle business with new clients, but the way he talks to you is so reassuring and supportive that you quickly help the gang obtain new patrons.

you can’t help but notice that his speech became more casual after the first outing. he’s a fan of crude jokes and local gossip, you find. but you also notice the hand at your hip as he guides you to every following fundraiser. if you look at him while he he does so, he’d send a the kindest grin. ↳ “see? you’re a natural. we need to work on your eye contact, though. clients respond better when they see those pretty eyes look back at them.”

that shameless flirtation came out after your fifth fundraiser. by that point, Bucciarati made less of an effort to hide his attraction toward you. all the other patrons thought you to be a couple. why not play the part? besides, he finds your embarrassment endearing. cute, even. he’s already planning ways to make this night last longer.

leone abbacchio.

Abbacchio gets closer to you by helping you get ready for your missions.

you’re typically the first choice for espionage missions. the way you slip into parties, meetings, anything without anyone noticing is impressive, to say the least. but only part of that is thanks to your own abilities. Abbacchio does a lot of the heavy lifting behind the scenes.

it started when he noticed your god awful attempt at masquerade makeup. your contouring left much to be desired. ↳ “...please don’t tell me you’re actually going out like that.”

and so began a tradition of sorts. you usually meet him at his apartment, considering that’s where all his tools are. it was awkward at first; Abbacchio isn’t the best conversationalist, but he did try to seem somewhat engaged in whatever you had to say.

with time, however, it became easier. less awkward. Abbacchio shares whatever wine (and gossip) he has at his disposal that week. you find that his humor can be quite dry once you melt through that icy exterior. and with more time, you start to notice the tiniest smiles when you pop by.

he’s also less fussy when you ask him to do your makeup. before he would roll his eyes and ask when you were next available, but now... he just says to come by that Friday night. not without some minor teasing, though you found that to be a part of his charm. (plus, the fact you were breaking through to him was exciting in itself.)

he’s incredibly gentle when he does your makeup. he always holds your chin as he dabs liquid foundation onto your face, his hand moving your head for those hard-to-reach areas. when he does your eyeshadow, you can feel that same hand cup your cheek to keep you steady. though intimate, it’s not uncomfortable.

whenever he caught you staring at him, Abbacchio would ask what you were looking at. recently, however, you’ve noticed he merely purses his lips, swallows, and looks away. ↳ “huh. would’ve never known you could look so stunning. you’re welcome.”

his rude teasing made its appearance after eight visits. it’s an awful attempt to deny his feelings. maybe you’ll back off if he’s mean enough. but the way you smile at him after every session, how you shamelessly compliment him... he can’t help himself. he has to get closer to you in any way that he can.

giorno giovanna.

Giorno gets closer to you by asking you to help him with his hair.

you’d often watch girls fawn over Giorno whenever you went on patrols with him. and it’s warranted: his chiseled cheekbones, long lashes, and defined physique had him rival the Roman statues that lined Naples. everything about him is a piece of art. including his hair. 

you caught him struggling to braid his hair shortly before your next patrol. strands would be thicker than others, and in one case, you watched as his hair tie snapped between his fingers. he obviously needed help. ↳ “well, if you’re offering. be my guest.”

so you got to work. it wasn’t a big deal; part of the issue was that Giorno couldn’t see the back of his head. you separated his hair into three strands, weaved them between each other, and tied the ends of his hair into a loop. just as you’d always seen him do it.

but once you finished, Giorno was hooked. the way your fingernails dragged along his scalp, how you were so careful to not pull his hair... it was wonderful. such a small action that felt so personal to him.

he asks you to help him with his hair whenever he can. not too frequently that you’d catch on, though. and he knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t deny his request. you’re far too kind. it’s a little manipulative on his end, but he’s also aware that you wouldn’t mind.

it never feels awkward. he asks you about your day while you work. sometimes he gives you a briefing about what’s on the agenda. though it seems casual on your end, as mentioned, Giorno finds the experience quite intimate. ↳ “I don’t know what it is, but something about your touch is enough to make me feel so relaxed. ...ah, excuse me. was that too forward?”

that statement comes out after you’ve braided Giorno’s hair ten times. by that point, you’ve started to think that he doesn’t really need help with his hair. the fact that he’s started producing flowers to put in your own hair was a dead giveaway. but can you blame him? he loves seeing you blush as he tucks daisies behind your ear.

guido mista.

Mista gets closer to you by showing you his favorite quick eats.

as a long-standing resident of Naples, the gunslinger is aware of all the best restaurants in the city. from hole-in-the walls to elegant restaurants, he knows ‘em all. he has a particular soft spot for the former.

you’re the opposite of him: new to Naples and unaware of what foods await you. Mista takes it upon himself to change that. ↳ “you’ve never heard of Sorbillo and you’ve been living here for how long? ...alright, well. we’re gonna change that. you and me, Sorbillo, this Saturday.”

and thus a new tradition began. whenever you and Mista had a free Saturday night, you’d meet at whatever restaurant he recommended that week. sometimes it was seafood, other nights it was pizza, but it was always something extremely delicious (and extremely unforgettable).

he caters his choices to what you’re in the mood for. Mista’s not a picky eater by any means (so long as it’s not in fours), so he’s down for whatever you want. plus, it lets him get to know your tastes a little better.

he’s a great conversationalist. he can keep you distracted from long lines and longer food prep times. you never get the impression that he’s just making small talk, because honestly, he’s not. he genuinely wants to get to know you better. he usually asks about your life before Passione. 

your weekly outings originally started as a fun hangout between two friends. but during one chilly night, Mista was quick to notice your shivering. he wasted no time in giving you his coat and hat. ↳ “hey, you don’t ever get... I dunno... bored of this, do you? I know we’ve been doing this for a while and... if you ever wanna stop, you can let me know.”

that question came up after your seventh outing. you’d never seen the gunslinger get embarrassed like this. it only comes up because Mista’s realizing how much he loves being around you. he loves when your eyes widen as you take that first bite, he loves when muse how good the food is. he needs to know where you stand before he gets too invested because honestly, he’s starting to love you as well.

narancia ghirga.

Narancia gets closer to you by asking you to help him read. 

Fugo’s not the best tutor. bless him, he tries, but Narancia isn’t the best student either. the latter often spaces out while working. and when he doesn’t, he tries to distract Fugo with some meaningless chatter to end the session sooner. Fugo was quick to catch onto this.

as a result, he turned to you to tutor Narancia. it started as a joke. “if [Name] can’t do it, no one can,” he laughed. the pupil, however, was more than happy to switch tutors. ↳ “fine! [Name]’ll be a better teacher than you ever were!!”

and like that, you were Narancia’s new tutor. not that you minded. it would benefit the whole team if he could read above a primary school level. every Tuesday and Thursday, an hour before the gang’s meetings at Libeccio, you and Narancia would grab a table and go over his reading material. sometimes Fugo joins to watch Narancia’s progress, sometimes Mista to hang out and enjoy a slice of cake, but it’s normally a one-on-one lesson.

Narancia quickly realizes that he likes those lessons best. it’s much easier when the others aren’t teasing him for his inability to read words like “signorile.” plus, he likes his time alone with you. you don’t laugh. you never judge him. if he has a question, he doesn’t feel stupid to come to you about it, even outside of tutoring sessions.

he’s still distracted when he’s with you, but half the time it’s intentional, half the time it’s not. he just wants to learn more about you. he’ll take breaks between questions to ask you about yourself. Narancia usually sticks to questions regarding your hobbies and interests. lord help you if you share the same music taste because he’ll want to share all his favorite tunes with you.

lately he’s been quite diligent with his work. he’ll go a chapter ahead of what you’ve scheduled and... oh my, are those annotations? you’d never seen him smile brighter than when you praised him for his hard work. ↳ “what are we gonna do once my reading is like... really good? we’re not just gonna stop, are we?”

he asks you this after your fourth session. the question came up rather early, honestly. but Narancia was already having a lot of fun after working with you. he knew that this was going to be something worth his time. and when he saw your own smile, he knew that you were worth everything, too. 

pannacotta fugo.

Fugo gets closer to you by requesting your help planning missions.

most of the gang’s missions are planned by Fugo himself. while he is a college dropout, he still spent hundreds of hours studying Italian history and law. he can be trusted to help the escort team avoid law enforcement.

but there was one job he couldn’t wrap his head around. it was a breaking-and-entering mission meant for Bucciarati and Narancia. they were supposed to cross through an Armani outlet, yet... the security was fool proof. there was no way to cleanly get through it, even with Bucciarati’s Sticky Fingers. that was when you came in and proved him wrong. ↳ “[Name], would you mind helping me with this next mission? it’s a reconnaissance job for Abbacchio.”

he started coming to you whenever he felt stuck. you’re one of the few people he trusts with a task as important as this one. besides, you’d already proved that you were more than capable to untangle tough situations.

working with you is a mixed bag, though. sure, you help Fugo resolve his questions, but you make him feel so... small. it’s not that you do it on purpose. it’s just that being smart is all that he has. it’s all he’s ever known. and here you come, making these problems seem like they were nothing.

yet he can’t get enough of you. you don’t make it seem like these things are a big deal. he loves when you place your hand on his arm and praise him when he figures it out himself. god, he hates that he can’t look you in the eye; he can only imagine how lovely you look when you’re glowing.

there’s one moment that will stick with you forever. it was an infiltration mission meant for the whole team, the eleventh job you’d worked on with him. it took hours of back-and-forth bantering, Fugo having to leave the room to go scream outside, and one of Narancia’s awful energy drinks until Fugo figured it out. and when he did, you’ll never forget how he was beaming, his fingers laced with yours as he thanked you for your help. it’s too bad it didn’t last that long, for he quickly became embarrassed and turned away. ↳ “[Name]! I have another mission to work on with you! when are you free?”

Fugo saw you as his planning partner after that occurrence. he came to you with every mission he received; after all, he needs you to make sure that there aren’t any holes. he wants to chase every high he can with you. hell, every low if you’ll let him. he wants to do everything and more with you.

#jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #bucci gang #golden wind #Giorno Giovanna #Pannacotta Fugo #Bruno Bucciarati #Narancia Ghirga #guido mista #leone abbacchio #headcanons #long post #drugs/ #WHEW it took me two days to write this #I kept getting burnt out :') #it's been a hot minute since I wrote something like this #but I'm so happy w how it came out!!

[mytwistedhome]

𝓝𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓮 𝓛𝓮𝓫𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓮 ~ 𝓦𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓐𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮'𝓼

Gender-Neutral Reader ; written in present tense & second person pov

I, personally, adore Valentine's Day no matter my relationships, but I know that this day is associated with loneliness for a lot of people, so... this particular story was written for that feeling in mind. I hope you all are able to find love and allow it into your hearts every day in any way.

You're standing at the edge of the wishing well, with beautiful clothes and your hair done well. The air is warm for the coming of March, and the sun melts away the last mounds of shimmering snow on this final February morning.

And, with snow in mind, you remember Neige, whose name and essence is that of snow. He was the one who asked you here just a week ago. It's the reason why you're dressed so nicely right now—he insisted upon a day with you soon, and of course, a day with him by your side was reason enough to look your best. This morning, however, you found it difficult to put the effort into getting ready. There was a hesitance weighing you down upon rising from your bed; an identifiable feeling that made it hard to do much of anything. But, once you started, you found yourself being lifted into a better mood, and you tried to enjoy the process of getting ready and pretty.

Indeed, you look so pretty, but you don't quite feel so as you stare at your reflection in the water of the well. Though your mood as slowly gotten better over the last couple weeks, you still feel a weight at your chest. The loneliness that Valentine's brings when you spend it void of company or gifts.

You wonder if Neige had noticed you down because of that day of love... He had, after all, asked you out after seeing you sad for several days. You appreciate his thought, but you hate to think that this was out of pity, for if it's done of pity, than it isn't sincere.

But... you trust that Neige's intention isn't as such. You know him to be genuine and honest—too sweetly simple to be anything but. You know he only would ask to be with you if he, himself, truly wanted to. He had to.

You let out a breath, a deep exhalation that clears your thoughts, and you focus your gaze back to the water of the well. Slight ripples and waves are made with every small vibration that the water seems to sense, though you don't know what it could possibly be. Something so subtle to make the water tremble?

Oh, but it doesn't matter now. You look up from the well and onto the earth around you. Much of the trees are still bare from having suffered through the winter, but in just a few more weeks, everything would bud and grow green again. Everything will be full of life. You don't quite know if you're excited for or dreading this year's spring. What is spring even like in Twisted Wonderland? You realize, now, that you do not even know.

But, before you can ponder further on the things you still have yet to learn of wonderland, you a familiar voice echoing gently through the barren woods. Soft and beautiful, but projected clearly... how pretty.

The voice grows louder as the prince approaches. It is a song of no words, just voice moving up and down to create a wonderful melody—one that could entrance you for all eternity.

Louder, still, you're able to hear exactly where the voice is coming from. Your turn your head toward a clearing between the trees, catching the shadow of a young man coming into view.

"Neige!" you call out to him and wave your hand in greeting. A wide smile unexpectedly spreads over your lips; you wouldn't have guessed that you'd be as happy as this.

Neige beams when he sees you, his expression so bright it could warm any frigid winter day. Running to you, he exclaims, "I'm so happy you came!"

The joy is shared, you say in your head as Neige gets near. He does not hesitate to hug you at once, embracing you tightly as if he'd missed you dearly.

You hug him back and inhale a sweet scent of apple and daisy. He feels so warm within your arms, and you are so grateful for even this brief affection.

But, of course, the moment cannot last forever, and Neige pulls away, still standing close. "How are you?" he asks, "I know it hasn't been long since I last saw you, but it really seemed like it. You look beautiful!"

"I've been good!" you answer him. It is a white lie, or, perhaps, the goodness you feel within this moment is enough to make all of February become a fond memory. Your heart is beating fast hearing that he missed you enough to feel a drawl in the time spent away from you, and you find yourself smiling ever wider. "How has your week been?"

"It's been really good," he answers with a smile as he leans over the well, "Though, this month has not been the most fun."

Your own smile falters upon hearing that. You had been feeling the same way, and it made you sad to think that Neige could be feeling any similarly...

"Oh, no! Please, don't get the wrong idea!" he rushes to correct his words upon seeing your face fall. "It hasn't been bad at all, just less fun compared to the month before. Winning VDC was such a wonderful moment, but the weeks that followed have felt empty in comparison. That doesn't mean I didn't enjoy them." His sweet expression returns, "What about you? I know you managed the team for Vil. You did a wonderful job! But it must have felt lonely to no longer have rehearsals."

You fluttered your eyelashes, surprised how just spot on he was... The weeks have, indeed, been extremely lonely. You no longer have so many friends at your dorm, and having that companionship you didn't even realize you loved so much stripped away made for such a lonely month, and led to sulking Valentine's. Yes, "lonely" is the perfect word.

You are honest when you answer him, though you try to phrase it in a way that isn't so distressing. "Yes, you're exactly right... I miss the rehearsals and seeing everyone so often. It is lonely without them. I miss them a lot sometimes."

Neige's expression softens into one of understanding and compassion. "I completely know how you feel," he reassures you, "There's always an emptiness when we're no longer able to see the people we've become close to, but that leaves you room to get comfortable with just yourself. You don't have to feel lonely when you're alone!"

"Yes, you're right... thank you, Neige," you say, so appreciative of his kind words. Someone like him must never feel alone... There's enough love in his heart to entertain himself forever. Perhaps there was something to learn from that.

Neige takes your arm and pulls you closer toward the well. "How about we wish to never feel lonely ever again?" he smiles brightly, "I read in a story long ago... if you sing a wish into a well, and it sings it back, than it means the well has heard it, and it's sure to come true."

Your cheeks flush slightly in embarrassment, hesitating to sing in the middle of the woods. "Oh... I'm not sure..." is all your able to muster out, but of course, Neige insists.

"There's nothing to worry! Wouldn't you like to make a wish?" he laughs a little upon saying that, "I guess it is a little silly, but there's no harm in trying. Here, I'll go first."

You watch as Neige leans further over the wall, stretching gracefully with his arms gripping the stone. "I'm wishing~" he sings, his voice a perfect melody. And then, quickly, he turns his ear to the water, eyes growing wide as the well echoes his voice. "Did you hear that?" he asks you, "The well can hear us!"

You nod your head enthusiastically, showing him a beautiful smile. Wonderland is full of wonderful things... Perhaps this well is magic, too.

Neige continues with his song. "I'm wishing~" he repeats, waiting for the well's reply, and then, "For joy when I'm alone~"

The well echoes him perfectly, and you gaze down at the rippling water with so much hope. A small part of you may still doubt the magic that Neige promises, but even just believing, just pretending, is enough for you to enjoy.

"It's your turn...!" he says to you gently, beckoning you not to be shy.

You nod your head bend over the well, pressing your lips together as your heart begins to race. You hesitate a moment, but eventually find the courage to repeat the words he sang. "I'm wishing~" your voice comes out meek and soft, but there is still a faint echo that whispers back.

"Yes!" Neige exclaims, "Keep going!"

You take a breath and, with a bit more confidence, you sing, "For joy when I'm alone~" The well repeats your words clearly, assuring you that it heard, providing you with a hope that it just might come true.

As you straighten yourself beside the well, you feel a blissful lightness at your chest, and you smile true happiness. All the weight of the month sees to slip away, tumbling and drowning into the water below, leaving you with a serenity well-deserved.

You turn to Neige and smile. "Thank you. That was wonderful."

He grins in return. "I know! It's one of my favorite things to do, and you were wonderful."

Your heart flutters, and the two of you laugh together, simply happy to be with each other's company.

Neige soon breaks the pleasant stillness as he reaches his arm out to you. "Come on; we can't stay here all day. Let's take a walk together."

You nod your head and take his arm gently, linking it with yours. You walk together side-by-side across the stony pathway that led out of the woods and into the courtyard of RSA. "It's really a beautiful day," Neige says as he glances at the mounds of melting snow. "I love when the sun shines during winter. Everything is pretty."

You giggle to yourself lightly, "Yes, I agree! It's easy to be happy on a day like this." And you walk on with him, knowing that this will be a wonderful day.

#happy march! this was supposed to be posted yesterday... but i just didn't get it done #twisted wonderland #neige leblanche #neige lubanche #neige x reader #neige lablanche x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #my fanfic #my writing

[musashi]

Give us the jessie bpd rant

JESSIE TEAMROCKET HAS BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER: A POST

[Paraphrased behaviours. I’m not a psychologist I just read the DSM-5 for fun. This is not a diagnostic tool, but if you identify with this post maybe look into some actual ones and learn some fun stuff about yourself.]

Identity problems, an unstable sense of self.

Jessie describes herself as adaptable, someone who can fit in anywhere, and this is indeed one of her strengths! She doesn’t let a lack of experience or qualifications discourage her because she believes that she can shift and change to suit her environment, and she’s right!

It’s also a major weakness of hers, though. Jessie in her element (when she’s her true self) is loud, confident, assertive, and bold. However, whenever she 'imprints’ on someone she throws her true personality aside entirely--buries it under the facade of someone who is malleable, softspoken, easy to be around, does whatever they can to make the person they love choose them. This trait of hers, and how it’s a fault, is a MAJOR plot point in XY063.

there’s a scene early on in this episode where she’s partially paralyzed from a stun spore, and Dr. White, the man who saved her from drowning, feeds her a berry to fix it. She poses triumphantly with her arms in the air and shouts ‘THAT DID THE TRICK!’ then realizes she’s being too loud around an attractive man and immediately throws her hands over her mouth, trying to stop more words from coming. It’s an incredibly effective way of showing how contradictory Jessie is when she imprints on someone. The Jessie we know would never even think of second guessing how much room she takes up in the world. 

In this episode, Jessie has feelings for Dr. White, and she completely buries her personality to make herself a silent, sweet, softspoken housewife in the hopes that he’ll fall in love with her. Dr. White instead falls for his childhood friend, a loud, rude, brash girl who likes to fight, calls him a wimp and tells him to fuck off when he presses her buttons.

The tragedy of this episode is that Jessie is forced to confront this about herself--this way she shifts and changes to keep people near may very likely have caused her to lose something here. She’s forced to reckon with the idea that if she had just been herself, he might have loved her back. Not in spite of her personality, but because of it. 

In Borderlines, this trait is often a survival mechanism, driven entirely BY:

A debilitating fear of potential abandonment, perceived or based in past trauma.

Jessie’s childhood trauma, though not often discussed, hinges entirely on her abandonment issues. She was given up to foster care around kindergarten age, which was long enough to learn to love her mother before never getting to see her again. Jessie’s implied to have been a deeply lonely child who never had a family to call her own, and who didn’t fit in with any other girls her age because she was too poor to afford even basic food and couldn’t keep up.

When Jessie opens up about her love life, she doesn’t go into specifics, only mentioning that it’s been full of nothing but heartbreak thus far. She’s an unreliable narrator, always, but when she’s inviting pity on herself it’s almost always manipulation to gain something, and these moments don’t seem to have that element. When she talks about her love life in EP100, it’s very carefully accented with this image:

In her adolescence, Jessie tried to center herself around her passions, pursuing them whenever she was handed the opportunity. Frequently, though, she’d find herself meeting people and growing attached to them, and would eventually reach a crossroads where she forced herself to choose between the people she cared about and the goals she chased relentlessly.

The biggest example of this is DP073, where she chooses to stay and train to be an idol, rather than to travel with the boy she’s in love with.

She ends up not passing her audition, losing both him and her shot at her career. This starts Jessie’s descent into compulsively abandoning/parting ways with everyone in her life in an attempt to control how people exit her story. The only way to prevent yourself from being abandoned with 100% certainty is, of course, to leave them before they can leave you.

This kinda blends into the next point, which is:

Instability in personal relationships.

As previously mentioned, Jessie has a tendency to leave people behind & sever ties. It’s only speculation on my part, but it would make sense that she does this because she has been left behind in so many regards and by so many people she loved, it’s the only way she feels she can take control of this phenomenon.

People who watched a lot of OS back in the day, but don’t necessarily keep up with the series much now, will famously circulate Jessie’s speech to the Ghost of Maiden Rock in EP020. The maiden was a woman who died waiting for her lover who was out at sea, and since her death her spirit’s remained on the cliffside in the hopes that he would come home. Jessie shoots the ghost of the maiden with a fucking bazooka half her height and says this:

This is lauded by 90s kids everywhere as a #GirlPower speech about how Jessie don’t need no man (which is true), but it’s actually, like... kinda tragic? She hates the ghost of the maiden because she sees herself in it, and she takes the opportunity to proclaim that what she sees of herself makes her sick to look at. This speech she gives is so aggressively out of nowhere and so long and rambling that you have no choice but to read it as deeply personal. She just short of confirms that you can’t leave Jessie because Jessie leaves FIRST.

And you GET to see this in action. Jessie struggles so hard with loyalty. In ALL her relationships! Literally all of them. Every time something shakes up her foundation with a person in her life, she hardlocks herself into run run RUN mode because there’s a slight chance they might leave her and she CANNOT have that.

It was shown in the most explicit detail in the side story about what she was like in training, where Jessie’s inability to stay beside various partners in Team Rocket is literally the trait that defined her to everyone in the organization.

There’s even a beautifully symbolic shot in the beginning of that episode where she abandons her 12th partner, and kneels down while the world literally collapses behind her.

In DP073, when Jessie sees her Dustox has fallen in love with another Dustox, she demands that Dustox leave despite the pokemon hesitating. She doesn’t let Dustox control that scenario--Jessie crushes her pokeball and demands she migrate with her mate.

When Meowth dips on her and James to work food service because he finds it more rewarding, Jessie doesn’t try to fight it, instead focuses her energy on also leaving her teammates in her dust because at least she can get out of there and move on before James abandons her.

When she realizes White loves another girl, she doesn’t bother to even say goodbye to him, she just leaves wordlessly with nothing in her wake but a bouquet of daisies, and when she remembers that oh right, her wobbuffet is also in love with White’s own--

She tries to leave him, too.

You can’t fire Jessie. Jessie quits.

This is the in-depth, analytical part of me Diagnosing Her. Everything else she exhibits is far more General and really doesn’t need a trained eye:

Instability in one’s goals, aspirations, or career: Jessie has a steady job in Team Rocket, but is constantly picking up side-hustles and being distracted by passions like acting, performing, contests, and the like. She’s left Team Rocket entirely before to pursue Contests, only to return almost immediately. (DP117)

Difficulty controlling the range/intensity of one’s emotional responses: Long past the Slapstick Days of the original series, Jessie’s still incredibly prone to outbursts. It’s not just anger--she reacts equally strongly when she’s sad, happy, lovestruck, anything. I have used this exact phrasing before, but Jessie doesn’t feel her emotions, she becomes them.

Poor impulse control: Kind goes hand-in-hand with the above.

Engaging in dangerous/risky/self-harming activities with no concern to personal limitations: This applies to all of Team Rocket, but Jessie seems to take it a step further in thinking she’s invincible. She’ll throw herself headfirst into anything, rarely backs down from a fight, and often has trouble taking rest days even when she needs them because she lacks self-preservation.

Hair-trigger temper: lol yeah.

Unstable emotions/mood swings: lol YEAH, Jessie will be crying one minute, screaming the next, immediately fine. She can cycle the whole spectrum of human emotion before you can finish a sentence.

Idealization & Imprinting: Jessie frequently rushes into relationships based entirely on the idea of a person, not grounded in reality. She becomes attached to people incredibly easy at times, willing to throw her entire life thus far away to run away with someone she’s just met.

Living entirely in the moment, unable to comprehend the past/future: Jessie prefers to go with the flow and, as previously mentioned, adapt if things don’t turn out in her favour. If something doesn’t work out for her, she immediately will turn in the other direction and start toward whatever’s there.

This post is so long and I could probably make it longer but I’m gonna stop here. My credentials are I’m an Incredibly Powerful Jessie Kinnie who has BPD herself as well as an autistic who’s special interest is the pokemon anime and team rocket specifically fdhdfghg.

IN CONCLUSION,

#long post #wendy rambles #pokemeta #im actually done apologizing for putting long fucking posts on your dash #oh god i have to source this #ok um #os #ag #dp #xy #ep020 #ep100 #ep224 #hs012 #dp073 #dp117 #xy063 #shinxchu #wendy answers #this is an ask but tumblr's formatting is fucking up rn???

[bookishofalder]

Just Breathe

Pairing: Adam Driver X Reader (GN!Reader)

A/N-In this fic, AD is single. Inspired by my own love for makeup and the alternate life I’d have enjoyed as a film makeup artist. I also think this ended up with the reader being gender neutral!

Warnings: Mutual pinning. Kissing. Caffeine addiction.

——————

You took a long, deep breath, focusing on clearing your mind and settling yourself into professional mode. This was a routine, which used to simply be automatic for you, until you started working this new movie trilogy and your world flipped.

Just breathe.

You had been ecstatic when you got the call-key makeup artist for the new Star Wars movies! It was an absolute dream come true, after years working hard as a makeup artist for smaller films and television shows, building your experience. Now you were the lead, which meant you were going to be working with main character actors, a chance to really prove yourself, under the direction of the production designer. You would get to design concepts for their appearances and execute the approved designs.

And not to mention, you were a huge Star Wars geek, having grown up watching the films with your dad, who was an original geek. You would watch them every year on his birthday together, a tradition that you carried out regardless of where in the world you were working from on set, you would stay up all night and video call him while watching, if you had to. You never missed a single year.

But now, it was years later and you were working on set of the final instalment, which was bittersweet in so many ways. You just needed to breath.

Because since day one of production on these movies, you’ve been in love with the lead actor, and it’s been chipping away at your soul. Because it’s one thing to imagine being with someone unattainable for fun, but when you spend a lot of time in that persons presence and over time realize how perfect they are to you, it can drive you up the wall.

Adam Driver was kind, funny and serious. He and you hit it off really well when you met, he was always keen to hear your thoughts on his characters appearance, and he’d even asked you recently to join him on the next press tour as his stylist and makeup artist. That in itself was an amazing opportunity, one that would continue to launch your career into orbit. You adored working with him, and spent a lot of your down time missing him, his corny jokes and soft looks and overall presence. Because that man took up a lot of space, which seemed to affect you in many ways, all good.

You felt like that character in Love Actually, played by Laura Linney, who was in love with Carl. Except, you were sure you hid it well, and you were always the most professional colleague. However, pining over a celebrity felt too ridiculous, too common, and you were hard on yourself constantly for it. You convinced yourself every morning that it was simply a crush, one that would fade if you kept yourself focused and reminded yourself daily of the type of person he could date, if he wanted to.

Yet, here you were, needing to breath, because he was on his way to the makeup trailer for end of day cleanup and you needed to get your head in the game, figuratively shoving your feelings down. Daisy had finished and left already, while your makeup assistant Bailey was hurrying about tidying the trailer, avoiding your station, and moving some of the equipment into the storage area. Soft classical music was playing on the Bluetooth speakers, and the smell of peppermint tea you had brewed was calming you somewhat.

Glancing in the mirror, you adjusted your hair, smoothed down your apron and internally chastised yourself for bothering to check. Setting down your tea, you looked over your set up, ensuring you had everything needed, though end of day was always the easier part on this set for you. You didn’t exactly envy the hard work that the SFX make up team had on both sides of the day, but you were always beyond impressed with their beautiful work.

The door to the trailer opened and immediately, you felt his presence. Adam stepped inside, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair and face still fully set to Kylo Ren’s appearance, which always made you smile, as the contrast was hilarious.

“Evening, y/n, Bailey.” He said, nodding to you both before sitting down heavily into his chair. He smiled at you warmly, looking tired. You quickly set a headband on his head, pushing all the hair from his face carefully.

“How are you, Adam?” You briefly met his soft eyes, which were fixed on your own. If you didn’t spend so much timing beating yourself up for liking him, you might have noticed his eyes often following you, or his soft smiles, or the way he sometimes stiffened when your hands ran through his hair or down his face as you worked on him.

But you never did seem to notice. “I’m good, tired today, this week’s caught up with me.” He rumbled. You hoped he couldn’t hear your heart rate pick up every time he spoke. Although, it had been like this for years and he hadn’t complained yet. Or he’d grown used to it. ‘Shut up, brain’, you thought.

“I’m not surprised, after the fiftieth take of this scene I got tired watching you!” It was true too, having to be on set at all times during filming meant a lot of time spent watching the actors at work, and since Adam insisted on doing his own stunts, a lot of the scenes he was in were physically gruelling. You didn’t know how he did it, and despite his words you knew if he was called back to set for any retakes, he’d spring from the chair full of energy and ready to work.

His dedication was an astounding trait that impressed you from the start, never wavering. His serious, hardworking personality only had you falling harder.

He chuckled at your words, his eyes closing automatically as you spritzed his face with a gentle solution you liked for removing the prosthetic scar. He kept them closed as you worked, peeling off the wound with delicate fingers. You didn’t know that he kept them closed because when you were really focused on something, you bit your lip in a way that made his blood warm, in a way that gave him trouble with tearing his gaze away.

“I saw Bailey sneak you a latte, though, which I’m pretty sure means I’ve won our bet.” Your hands stilled at his words, and he peaked up at you, a devilish grin quickly spreading across his face freckled, handsome face.

You faked offence, scoffing “I don’t know what you mean, it was decaf.” Adam gave a bark of a laugh at your lie, shaking his head.

“Just admit it, you’re a caffeine addict.” He’d been teasing you for years for constantly having caffeinated beverages within reach, and you’d recently, stupidly, agreed to a bet where you would stick to one a day for a month. If you won, he had to forever leave you alone about it, and if he won he could continue to tease you for infinity.

“I believe the terms of our bet allowed for one slip up, actually.” You pouted, jutting your chin out slightly. You continued working, getting his skin cleaned and recovered from the makeup, pretending to be unbothered by the fact that he had noticed Bailey sneak you the latte on set. And you tried not to overthink why he would have been looking at you in the first place.

Adam considered your words for a moment, “Yes,” he said slowly, “But today is only day two of this bet, and you’ve already slipped up.” You were smiling now, the joy evident in his tone was contagious. Still, you rolled your eyes.

“I’m only human, you know, but I am competitive.” You hoped you sounded convincing. You weren’t sure you cared about winning the bet, really.

He continued to grin at you, but made no response. You settled into a comfortable silence together as you made your way through the end of day skin care routine you developed for Adam during the first movie. You had one for each of the main actors, and they’d all impressed you with their dedication in following them. You weren’t good at giving yourself credit, though. Everyone knew a skin care routine curated by you was priceless.

“You need me to stick around, y/n?” Bailey asked, popping out from the back of the trailer where the storage area was. She gave you a pointed look, which you promptly ignored.

“No, go on ahead and start your weekend, Bailey, I’m almost done here, thank you.”

“Night, Bailey!” Adam waved. Bailey bid them both goodnight and left, leaving you alone with Adam. You cursed yourself, feeling foolish. You meant to be genuinely nice to Bailey, who worked hard and deserved the break, but usually you kept her around at times like this to ensure you weren’t left alone with the object of your daydreams. When no one else was around, you had no witnesses to any comments that Adam made that you might consider flirtatious. And while you assumed handsome celebrities like him would probably inherently flirt with others as second nature, you never understood why he would flirt with you. It confused you entirely.

You felt your nerves suddenly rear up, and your hands shook very slightly as you removed the calming sheet mask you had placed on Adam. His eyes followed your hands, but he said nothing. You’d been alone plenty of times before, but every time you would turn into a nervous, silly mess, overanalyzing every comment he made and every word you managed to sputter.

You didn’t know it, but Adam always wished for more time alone with you. He knew you well, and could recognize your nerves and always wondered why being alone with him made you nervous. He hoped it was because you liked him, but he was helpless at flirting, and didn’t know how let you know how he felt. He didn’t want to overstep, or make you uncomfortable. You were both technically working, and he felt you probably had much more appealing options for partners outside of work.

Tonight, though, for the first time, you were both exhausted, under caffeinated and, though neither of you would openly admit it, lonely. Years of longing the other, feeling hopeful, was going to catch up to you both tonight.

“Okay, head froward for me please,” He complied, and you expertly ran your hands into his hair, pulling smoothing serum through the thick locks with gentle care. As you focused, applying liberal amounts, you noticed Adam’s hands clench the chairs arms. “Is that okay?” You worried you’d hurt him.

He tilted his head back and met your eyes. He was so tall that even sitting in his makeup chair, his eyes were level with yours. It was nice not needing to adjust his seat, as you needed to do constantly for most of the actors, but it also meant a lot of time face to face, learning to read one another. Your hands were still in his hair. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice of reason was telling you to calmly remove your hands and step back. But the look he was giving you had you frozen to the spot. You’d never read that expression on his face before, his eyes were dark, serious.

His eyes searched yours for a moment longer, “Yeah, y/n.” His voice came out quiet, soft. You think maybe your heart would stop working, because he wasn’t looking away. You couldn’t understand his expression, he seemed to be searching for something in your own.

Finally, you managed to pull your gaze away. Quickly removing your hands, you stepped back, smoothing down your apron nervously, “I-I mean, you’re all set, Adam, unless you need anything else from me?” Why was your voice so quiet? And your face, it felt hot.

You needed to get out of this trailer, away from this man-he was having such a strong affect on you. You rationalized that it was simply because you were tired, you really had cut down significantly on caffeine and this was the result, your sleepiness was lowering your defences and he was noticing you were acting strange. That was all it was.

Adam stood, frowning slightly, but didn’t move away from you. Now, he was right in front of you and you had to tilt your head back just to see beyond his chest. You glanced up at him, and his eyes seemed to soften.

“You’ve really been cutting back on coffee, haven’t you?”

You nodded, “Told you, I’m competitive.” Your voice was breathy, like you’d been running. What the hell was wrong with you, you wondered.

Adam smiled, “I know, I love that about you.” You thought maybe you were now hearing things, and simply stared up at him in surprise, his words genuine, warm.

“Thank-um, thank you, Adam, that means a lot, coming from you.” Now, you were basically whispering. Yet your voice sounded much too loud.

He tilted his head, took a careful step closer, the gap between you nearly gone now. His overall hugeness as he stood over you made you feel safe, and a jolt ran through to your core. “I love a lot of things about you, y/n. Like, how you’re face gives what you’re thinking away, if the person knows you well enough, and you know that about yourself so you try to hide it. You look away, before someone reads you-but I’ve gotten pretty good at catching your expressions,” The low timbre of his voice was doing things to you, and you couldn’t look away from Adam now, “And right now, I think I do know what you’re thinking. Can I test my theory?”

He was asking permission, for what you didn’t know, but at this point you’d have given it no matter what. So you nodded, “S-sure.” You saw the look in his eyes shift, his gaze moving to your lips.

Despite noticing this, it still caught you entirely off guard when Adam leaned down, his hands moving to your face, gently, and caught your lips with his own. So off guard, that you immediately moaned in surprise. You felt Adam freeze, and wondered if you’d messed up, but before you could open your eyes to check, he pressed you against the wall behind you and resumed kissing you with renewed fervour. You felt yourself returning the kiss, mirroring his movements, entirely caught up in him. His tongue ran across your lips and you parted them, allowing him to taste you as he deepened the kiss.

And you tasted him, his breath minty and overwhelmingly him, you felt drunk, dizzy. You moaned again, and he pulled away, still holding your face, “Sweetheart, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He breathed, his pupils blown, face flushed. His gaze was intensely affectionate.

You had to catch your breath, “I didn’t think...I’m just a makeup artist, Adam, I-“

But he cut you off, shaking his head, “Don’t do that, how do you not realize how amazing you are, y/n? You take my breath away every time I see you, and it’s not just because you’re beautiful,” He punctuated his words with a peppering of kiss along your cheeks, “It’s how funny you are, how hardworking, your talent and vision, the way you take care of me and the others, how kind and sweet and goofy you are-I’ve been in love with you for a long time, for a million different reasons.”

Tears threatened at his words, and you had to work to blink them back, “I think I’m dreaming.” You breathed, feeling silly, but he grinned, and shook his head. You returned the smile, gazing up at Adam in wonder, before reaching up with both hands to caress his face, the gesture so much more intimate than it had been when you worked on his skin. His eyes closed briefly, but opened again when you spoke, “I love you too, you know, always have.”

In an instant, his lips were on yours again, this time the intensity was burning, smouldering. Entirely too much and yet no where near enough. You pushed your hands into his hair and he groaned against you, his hands gripping your face and it felt like you couldn’t get close enough to him. He dropped one hand to your waist, pulling your body flush to his, then slid his other into your hair. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like this, fully ablaze in each others arms, but you never wanted it to stop.

When you did break apart, breathless and flushed, Adam was the first to speak, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine, “Would you like to come over to my hotel?”

You nodded, still standing close against him, “I’d really love that.” And you leaned up, on your tip toes, to plant a chaste kiss on his nose, unable to stop smiling.

Adam hugged you close again, planting a few affectionate kisses to your cheeks and hair, before stepping back, watching you as you gathered your things quickly. He took your bag from you as you pulled off your apron and threw on your coat, and you followed him out, feeling giddy.

“We might have to end our bet, by the way.” Adam held open the passenger door for you, when you reached his car, and watched your confusion at his words.

“Why’s that?”

He leaned down, his eyes dark in a way that had you mesmerized, “You’re going to need a lot of caffeine when I’m done with you, sweetheart.” He murmured softly, his voice laced with cheek, and yet you shivered.

You met his gaze, grinning, while internally you had to remind yourself to breath.

Just breath.

#adam driver x reader #adam driver #reader insert #oneshot #first post #romance #star wars #constructive critism welcome #new to the community

[black-streak]

Little Pistol - Daisy

Chapter 1

Previous Next

I'm trying to keep this in line with her canon personality to an extent here. Determined, focused, conniving and scheming. A little obsessive. But also needs to give herself a little pep talk to go through with things. Let me know how I'm doing?

Btw, title is by Brand New.

LP Taglist

@zalladane @moonlightstar64 @amayakans @elmokingkong @queen-in-a-flower-crown

Permanent list

@naoryllis @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @my-name-is-michell @maribat-is-lifeblood @dast218 @novicevoice @shizukiryuu @princess-of-fangirls @bigpicklebananatree @pirats-pizzacanninibles @abrx2002 @breemeister @darkthunder1589 @thestressmademedoit @severelyenchantedwonderland @isabellemasen @multi-fandom-freak0221 @fantasyloversblog @bzz75 @cloudiedraws @jardimazul @orbitsvt @gingerdaile @sotheresthatthought @kadmeread @novaloptr @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @crazylittlemunchkin @18-fandoms-unite-08 @tiny-goddess-of-chaos

~---~

Convincing a miniaturized pocket god that your intentions are sound came surprisingly easy to her.

That could be in part due to all the prior planning. Considering every possible argument the goddess could come up with and creating contingencies to match. Really though, taking out Tikki's own advice and laying it out as a perfect reasoning quieted her down quite nicely. Not that Tikki agreed with her, but the logic was too sound to push back on and the little bug never expected Marinette to come up with such thoughts without getting emotional. It just wasn't the way the girl was as far as Tikki was concerned. So it could only be taken at face value without the usual accusations of her being overdramatic.

It was an early Saturday when she voiced her thoughts.

"Hey Tikki?"

"Yes, Marinette?" the red bug looked up from her perch.

"Our biggest priority is to stop akumas and find Hawkmoth, correct?"

"Of course. You know that," she dismissed.

"So is it reasonable to say that Chat has been a hinderance to our duty?"

"How do you mean?"

"He distracts me or sits out on important battles. Threatens to quit if details that don't pertain to our purpose are withheld. He refuses to remain professional in the face of an attack."

"Well yes, he has been rather unhelpful lately, but then again, you are teenagers. It's to be expected, I suppose. Though I do wish he'd be a bit more focused," she easily agreed.

Marinette bit back a victorious smile and kept her expression closed off but for the determined, calculating expression she saved for important moments. Like now.

"In that case, it would be a good idea to make him focus any way I can. To make it easier. To hurry along the hunt for Hawkmoth."

Tikki's expression became weary as she stared at her welder, taken off guard by the open statement, "I don't know, Marinette...What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing yet, but I think I'm going to start brainstorming some ideas. Maybe do a little research. Something needs to change though," she emphasized, staring down her kwami with a hopeful, prodding look until she hesitantly nodded her agreement.

With the god's blessing, she turned to her tablet, pulling up everything she could on different heroes and their methods. Down the rabbit hole she fell.

… 

Some thirteen hours had passed and she felt the strain of her eyes and the bright burn to her retinas for the effort of her work. She refused to believe that no inspiration would come from this effort, though she'd moved on from conventional heroes and into a more sketchy territory by now, having been let down by the uptight views of others who'd obviously never been harassed or neglected by their partner and therefore wouldn't understand her need for a more, let's say, gray solution.

She'd seen the ideals of Superman and the Lanterns and the generalized view of both the Teen Titans and Justice League alike. Many worked with partners, many had betrayals or interpersonal problems. The solution they always took was for one or both parties to leave the team and travel to opposite sides of their country. Or world. Or separate worlds. Either way, avoidance was key. That didn't really work for her though. She had to stay in close contact with her partner while not truly working together. Remain civil within the same city limits. Fight side by side even. And it's not like she could just leave her responsibility here or allow Chat to go unchecked with a miraculous on his own. 

Then she stumbled upon Batman's history. The infamous bat had many a partner or sidekick with their own rough history and seemed to be operating with them regularly still. His solution to a lost or dead partner seemed to be a steady stream of replacements. Unfortunately, unlike a vigilante suit, a miraculous has to resonate with the wearer and no one she knew and trusted would fit the black cat. So she was stuck with the one.

Still though, Batman apparently had a falling out with his first Robin who became Nightwing. Those two were seen together regularly now so something must have happened to fix their issues. Gods, she was so lucky the internet seemed to stalk these people hardcore enough to have so much information on them so readily available. However, looking deeper, the resulting theories and knowledge did not bode well for her. It seems Nightwing had been in much the same state as her and with zero apologies from the Bat, had forgiven the man and resumed operations as usual. Well she was done with forgiving and forgetting. She wanted a real solution, not just rolling over and letting Chat do as he pleased! 

Alright, so Batman was the Chat Noir to the Robin's Ladybug. Maybe the others fared better?

Nope, second one died.

Current one seems to be a literal feral child out to bleed Gotham dry. Not sure how that helped, though maybe she could go just psycho enough to force Chat to be the responsible one? No, he'd just try and quit again.

Huh.

There was a third and fourth one apparently? Between the murder baby and the dead one. What happened to them?

The fourth was a blonde girl with a short stint. Seems she just moved departments since many speculated she might be a batgirl or working with a few others in the city. Not much more.

But what about the other one?

The third Robin, who worked with the Teen Titans for a stint. Who worked many years under the Bat, who gave away the title to the blonde only to return after and disappear once more with the coming of the blood toddler. What happened? Where'd he go?

…

Thousands had apparently asked the same question themselves. All signs seemed to point towards a betrayal. Something went wrong. The first resigned, the second died, the third just seemed to drop off the face of the planet. Did Batman kick him out? Replace him? For child's play, sword addition? She couldn't be sure, but it seemed the most likely guess. Much more believable than alien kidnapping or a quest for a dead man or his predecessor coming to life to end him.

But what after that? 

Surely, Marinette could've stopped there. Obviously, this wasn't the same as her situation, but she couldn't help but be so very intrigued. She watched videos of the boy in his Robin suit (much more practical than the first two if you asked her, though still slightly shameful) fighting and flying across rooftops and working with his team. He was so. So. Efficient. So clean. Ruthless when he decided to be. Calculated. Everything she ever wanted to be. 

He was amazing.

And then he disappeared.

Where did he go, that perfect Robin. How could anyone ever think the position needed an upgrade when the perfect bird was already there? It made no sense. And then she found him. Hunting through the rogues and heroes and inbetweens of Gotham, hidden in his own layerings of cover stories and identities. Her new aspiration of what a hero should be, mixed into the Anti-heroes of the city.

The vigilante of the more morally ambiguous variety, manipulating the world to the way he saw fit, using whatever method he wished. And the way he seemed to bend the city to his whim, well it matched quite well with how she wished her own city would be. She found her solution. Now it was showtime.

…

"Are you ready to apologize, m'lady?" Chat dropped down at her side, the akuma of the week tied up below them. It was a relatively easy battle, with no need for special abilities for once.

"Whatever for, Chatton?" Marinette asked, already tensing at the response she knew she'd receive. She hated when he tried to coerce her into apologizing for things that aren't her fault.

"For your neglect of your kitten, obviously."

"I don't have a kitten," she stated plainly.

"What? You wound me, to disown me so abruptly," he put a clawed hand to his chest, offense and hurt in spades marking his features.

"I can't disown what I never adopted," she went along with the analogy so he wouldn't complain about her ruining his fun again. The last thing she needed was his whining.

He perked up with this, "Well we can draw up some adoption papers right now if you wish? I'd love to be yours," he smarmed, leaning into her space further. 

This was it. Time to turn the tables. To make this work in her favor. She just needed to play it right, the way her Robin did. By manipulating the enemy into doing her bidding. She could do this.

"That's just it, though. I don't believe you would," she frowned, letting her eyes soften the way she'd seen Lila do so often. Might as well learn something from the girl.

"What? I would," he insisted, eyebrows furrowing.

"See you say that, but where's the proof? You've done nothing but pester and punish me over these weeks. You say you love me, but then watch me get hurt by akumas and make me fight all alone and threaten to leave me. That's not the actions of a loving partner. It feels like you hate me."

That had him panicking.

"No no, I don't hate you, you're my sun and my moon. My everything. Surely you know your worth in my life. I only did those things to show you how much you hurt me." He attempted to reason with her.

"See, but I've never intentionally hurt you. And always apologized to you when I realized I had. Whereas you just admitted to causing me distress as a form of punishment. It seems to me that I'm far more attached to you than you are to me and I'm just not willing to hurt myself by getting involved with someone who so obviously dislikes me."

"I- no- that's not- I love you! I didn't mean to do that, I shouldn't have. Please believe me? I love you, Ladybug," he begged, ears dropping and body tensed in fear.

"I'm sorry, but until I see some proof, I can't do that," she shook her head before taking off home without a backward glance, leaving the cat to his misery.

…

That night, Tikki went straight to bed and refused to speak to her for the next two days.

#timinette #timari #ml x dc #maribat #if she can recognize akuma victims she can recognize a costume change fight me #Dark!timinette

[lisbonsteresa]

let me be a clown and send LucyxRyan for the ship ask meme (if you're still doing it!)

CHARLIE 🥲

yes of course we're all clowns here honk honk but i WILL be thinking of these only in the happiest 'Lucy lives; the townfolk are not dicks; Hudson Enterprises is somehow taken down; Everett chokes on his own self-importance; Ryan keeps a small amount of his money and he and Lucy lead a slightly nicer than modest life with Nancy in HB' kind of context

__

1. Who buys flowers for the other

When they first started dating, Ryan told Lucy he'd buy out a flower shop just to make her smile. She'd laughed then, and when she opened her locker a few days later and nearly 100 daisies came spilling out she laughed again and kissed him soundly once she found him (he's mellowed out a bit in his 'old age' as Nancy puts it but he still gives Lucy flowers at any possible occasion - i picture daisies and yarrow and maybe daffodils bc i like lucy and yellow but i'm reading too much into flower meanings now) (also in the real timeline there's a bouquet of pink carnations that shows up on Lucy's grave twice a year - her birthday and the day she died - and no one knows where they come from but also everyone knows where they come from and also i'm sad)

2. Who makes the other coffee/tea

Lucy makes Ryan coffee almost every morning - usually to-go so he can have it on his way to work as Carson Drew's legal assistant (it was an unlikely partnership but the Sables ryan took lucy's name argue with the wall and the Drews are super close and Carson and Kate spoil their goddaughter Nancy rotten)

And Ryan makes Lucy tea almost every night and they sit on the couch with their legs all tangled while he reviews briefings and she grades assignments (she teaches creative writing/poetry at a local community college) (Nancy complains almost every time she comes home from a shift at the Claw or a night out with a certain dishwasher *ahem* to find them like this because 'get over yourselves you're not 17 anymore' but she does it with a giant grin on her face and they always find space for her to squeeze in between them)

3. Who eats the most candy on Halloween

Ryan - Lucy prefers ice cream to candy when it comes to sweets, but she does pick up a back-up bag every year so 'there's some left over for the other children' (they all laugh at it now but Nancy wasn't laughing that time she was 11 and she found the wrappers for all her missing trick-or-treating loot in her dad's office trash)

4. Who tries new recipes all the time

Lucy is the only one who tries any recipes, because somehow even after nearly 20 years and raising a child together, her cooking skills still have yet to start to rub off on Ryan (he's there to assist with anything he can and he always does the dishes to compensate, but any time Lucy is away for the weekend or having dinner out with her mom and Josh, Nancy knows it's going to be a take out night honestly they're both thankful ryan stopped trying after he nearly burned the house down trying to cook a frozen pizza)

5. Who genuinely likes pineapple on pizza

Both - Lucy's loved it since she was little, and Ryan always made fun of her for it until she finally forced him to try a slice and now he won't shut up about how good it is (neither of them can convince Nancy, however)

6. Who wears hats on special occasions

....Neither....Lucy doesn't like how she looks in hats and Ryan doesn't like how they 'ruin' his hair (the only exception - a special occasion, if you will - is when Carson and Ryan get together to watch/go to a baseball game because they Dad-out and Ryan has to show his team his support)

7. Who likes ‘90s R&B

Ryan - technically, being teens in the 90s, they both enjoy it, but I just picture Lucy being more of a singer-songwriter kind of gal

8. Who likes long walks on the beach

Both - they are insanely sappy fight me and they love long walks at sunset (and they also loved when Nancy was younger and they'd swing her between them...when they were able to pull her away from studying the tide pools and/or other beachgoers...) (but also: it takes the Sables a while to warm up to Ryan and him going on long walks with them really helped them get to know/like him more as a person rather than a Hudson)

9. Who buys wacky picture frames

They don't so much buy them, but during elementary school Nancy went through a big moment of making those popsicle-stick picture frames (she colored them horribly with puffy paint and threw pom-poms and glitter all over them) and they have yet to get rid of any of them (even when they start falling apart and she begs them to)

10. Who compares themselves to fictional/celebrity couples

'I mean, to be fair, we kind of were a celebrity couple for a while there' 'Being in the papers for your father tanking his company and being brought up on 12 counts of tax evasion is not really the kind of celebrity you think it is sweetheart'

11. Who can solve a rubix cube

It might take them a few days, but eventually they can get it together (they do not, however, do so very often because Ryan is still pouting over the time his 8 year old daughter solved it in less than half the time it took him)

12. Who would wear Hawaiian shirts on vacation/during the summer

You cannot convince me Ryan would not (it's one of the first things he and Ace bond over - he likes his daughter's taste in men's taste in casual wear)

13. Who wears mismatched socks because they can’t keep up with the pairs

Lucy is meticulous with sock matching whenever she does a load specifically because Ryan's philosophy seems to be 'eh, they're both white....it's probably fine'

#i may have made these a BIT saccharine but who's going to say anything? you're going to tell me they don't deserve that? #i am open to doing teen lucy/ryan too but also.....it would hurt me #(but i will probably do it) #ask games #nd #longpost