#so i don't ave one of them yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kadwrites · 9 months

Text

office scandal | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; polly takes you with her to run an errand.

warnings ; arranged marriage trope, bad writing?!! , typos maybe (english isn't my first language)

a/n ; i almost lost my mind writing this. hopefully the accents are better and polly is well portrayed? lmk what you think <3

you're still on your bed, your friends are on it too this time. madeline and fiona , are on either side of you, kneeling on your mattress.

"what do ya mean y're gettin' married ?" madeline looks at you with a crooked smile, she thinks you're messing with her.

fiona is just staring at you with her head tilted

"i mean i am to be wed, betrothed, spoken for,"

"okay stop." fiona puts a hand up , "when did ya decide to do that? i thought ya were waitin' to get swept off yer feet"

you sigh, leaning back and letting the back of your head hit the bed frame "it just ... 'appened..."

madeline and fiona look at eachother before looking at you

"what are ya not tellin' us?"

"yeah , what are ya hidin' ?"

you look at them both, you contemplate telling them. you haven't really spoken about this whole ordeal to anyone , not really. and its been a week and a half already

"i um" your eyes drop to your hands "my parents chose 'im for me"

"yer parents?" fiona asks with a raised brow "and how exactly did they convince ya to do that?"

"its a long story" you wave a dismissive hand

"so ya know who he is?" madeline copies fiona, tilting her head too "do we know 'im as well?"

"i think everyone in birmingham knows 'im" you mutter under your breath

"who the fuck are ya marryin'?the king of england?"

you just stare at them, you lick your lips "ya got to keep yer knickers intact."

they both nod,

"its thomas shelby"

"what?" fiona's face drops , her voice does too.

madeline just snorts a laugh and then then goes quiet and just looks at you, "y're jokin' right?"

you take a deep breath "no , i am not jokin' "

"what do ya mean y're marryin' thomas shelby?" madeline gets closer to you "how?"

"i don't know..." just look back at them, your voice soft too.

"do ya want this?" madeline asks again

"it's complicated really..."

"no its not, ya either do or ya don't" fiona's hands grab yours "do ya not want this?"

you lick your lips, you take a moment to think , howare you going to even phrase this "i do,"

"ya do know who he is right?" madeline stares at you with a confused look "he isn't just any man"

"i know who he is..." you sigh

"then how are ya willing to marry 'im?" fiona never spoke so seriously before

"i 'ave my reasons"

"i hope that they're good enough for ya to put yourself through this" madeline chimes in again

you just close your eyes and let yourself plop back against the mattress, fiona and madeline share another look.

" 'ave you seen 'im?" madeline laid next to you

"yeah" you say with a chuckle , your mind flashing images of him on the sofa.

"is he really a dish?"

madeline smacks fiona on her arm and fiona rubs it with a frown "what! ya were thinkin' that too!"

you roll your eyes, but a small smile plays at your lips "he isn't bad lookin' i suppose."

madeline looks at you with a raised brow

"fine, he's a dish, happy?" you mumble , as if it pained you to admit it

"at least one of us will be fuckin' someone attractive"

"i thought ya liked callum" madeline frowns

"i love ya madeline i do, but callum isn't exactly a sight for the sore eyes"

"when's the weddin'?"

you look at madeline "i dont know , we 'ave yet to speak about that"

"i bet it's gonna be grand , ey?" fiona wiggles her brows

"well if i'm marryin' one of the wealthiest man in birmingham i might as well make at an occasion"

"wait , did you 'ave an engagement party already?" madeline asks, with a gasp and a hand on her chest

"if i did, ya would've been there."

"he has a son , ya know" fiona's voice goes back to its soft tone

you hum and nod "he told me about 'im"

"he did?" madeline asks with a smile

"what did he say?"

"that he wants a wife that can take care of 'im,"

"won't be long till you start poppin' out babies too" fiona mumbles

"whats that supposed to mean?" you ask with a chuckle

"with a husband this good lookin'? i give ya three months, and ya'll have a little one in that belly"

"don't speak that into existence!"

"i mean..." madeline says with a smirk "look at celest, she got pregnant with sarah , what? 4 or 5 months after she got married?"

"please don't open this topic of conversation" you beg as you rub your hand over your face "im stressed as it is."

all the of you turn to look at the door when you hear is open and celest's head peaks in "polly gray is here"

madeline and fiona turn to look at eachother then at you

"why?"

"i don't know but she's waitin' for ya" celest shrugs

"i'll be right there" you get off the bed and open the doors to your closet, looking for something to wear

"polly gray ? she's the shelbys aunt isnt she?"

"what does she want with ya?"

you change your clothes in a hurry, mind racing with possibilities "im not sure" you just mumble as you put on your blouse.

they watch you as you fix your hair and then go downstairs.

"mrs gray" you say with a polite smile as you walk into the living room "to what do i owe the pleasure"

she looks at you with a look thats eerily similar to her nephew's,and you try to not turn and walk back up the stairs

"we 'ave some business to attend to"

"we do?" your brows furrow "at this time?" it was 6 in the evening after all.

"yes"

"okay." you try not to snap your own neck at that response.

you get into her car as she drives, you two sitting in awkward silence "where are we goin' ?"

she glances at you before glancing back at the road and you just don't ask again but then you see your destination, shelby company limited and you think you might just not get out of that car but you do. your heels click against the floor when you walk through the dark halls.

there aren't many people there considering the work day has already ended, but you see a woman. she's young, around your age maybe. and she greets polly, completely ignoring you but you chalk it up to maybe the fact that it's polly gray is standing next to you.

"good evenin' , mrs gray" her voice is almost sickly sweet

"do you know who this is?" she asks her, nodding at you.

she looks you up and down and then shakes her head "nah, i can't say i do."

"she's tommy shelby's fiancé."

"i didn't know he was engaged" her lashes flutter and her lips twitch as she tries to maintain her smile.

"ya do now , don't ya?" polly stares that woman down "an' i hope it doesn't escape yer mind"

you just watch as the color drains out of her face as she excuses herself and scurries back to her work.

"what the fuck was that about?" it escapes your mouth before you even think, polly turns to you "that poor girl"

"in a place like this , ya either put yer fucking foot down and let everyone know what yer place is before they decide for themselves." her voice is stern, its firm and it makes you stand straighter "an' that poor girl wants to fuck yer fiancée"

"what?" your voice is squeaky, its high pitched. "how could you possibly know that?"

"anyone with eyes can fuckin' see that."

"i.." your words die when you look at her and you realize, she's helping you. "why are ya doin' this for me?"

"i know ya might not had the control that ya wanted over who yer husband is" her tone doesn't change when she speaks "so i'll give ya one piece of advice, ya can't marry tommy if ya don't 'ave a backbone. it'll be easier for ya to kill yerself than to live with 'im."

you know polly, but not well. she and your father knew eachother as children , your father is part gypsy himself. you remember meeting her a handful of times as a child but you were always too scared to talk to her for very long.

ironically, your mother didn't like the lifestyle her nephews led, she didn't want her children to be involved in it so you didn't get to see polly much throughout your life.

but you do remember one thing vividly and its her telling you to bite your brother back whenever he bothered you "or ya'll just show 'im that he can treat ya like that for the rest of yer life, ya dont want that now do ya?" . and you did do just that when abraham tugged on your braids a mere 10 minutes later, and polly winked at you , as she sipped her tea and you just stood there smiling proudly even though your mother was yelling at you for making your brother cry.

when you hear another pair of steps walking towards you, you both turn to see tommy. he's in his usual getup sans the jacket, a cigarette hanging from his lip and his glasses are on , his hands in his pocket.

"are ya done terrorizin' my secretary?"

polly just looks at him and walks past him "i'll leave ya two to it then."

and you were left there with him, blinking at that interaction.

"terrorizin' ? thats a bit of an exaggeration"

@tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #kadwrites

1K notes · View notes

yawnderu · 7 months

Text

Idyllic - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

content: fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, your honor, they love each other.

What is a promise if not the way you fit perfectly in my arms? I can express myself easily and bark out orders at anyone, yet I don't have the courage to ask you out on a date.

''Si?'' Your soft voice takes me away from my thoughts. My heart is in my throat for a second before I look up at you, giving you a silent nod of acknowledgement. I don't dare speak yet, I don't want you to know how enamored I am of you.

''I was thinking... would you like to come home with me for Christmas? Soap and Gaz are going to visit their family, and the old man is going to go fishing.'' I resist the urge to chuckle at the way you refer to Price as ''old man'' and the way your nose scrunches up in slight disgust at the idea of going fishing with him. I look down at the gun I was oiling up absentmindedly, pretending to think about it.

''... sure.'' I finally look back at you, already feeling your eyes burn into me. I feel like I'm being held down by an invisible force that makes my body feel heavy.

''That'd be nice.'' I add, not wanting to seem uninterested, yet not wanting to make you realize how much I like you, despite already knowing you do. I raise an eyebrow as you get closer, your arms wrapping around my waist from behind, the same way you started doing months ago. My hands wrap around yours, fingers intertwined on your much smaller ones.

''I promise it'll be cozy. I'll even let you choose what we eat for breakfast, as long as it's not beans on toast.'' Your voice is slightly muffled as your cheek rests against my back, yet you still manage to drag a soft laugh out of me. All those jabs about me being British never get old, not when they come from you.

''Don't knock it 'til you try it, love.'' I reply teasingly, another quiet laugh coming out my masked lips when you groan loudly and say ''ew''. I don't even like beans on toast, but if teasing me about it makes you talk to me more, I'll keep up with the white lie.

''That's awful. We're eating something that wasn't made when the Germans were flying overhead.'' I roll my eyes, secretly happy that I keep my mask on so you can't see the stupid smile on my face, just like every single time I'm with you.

''Ever tried fish n chips, luv?'' I exaggerate my accent, the cracks on my soul slowly being fixed one by one when I hear you laugh, feeling your body shake softly behind me before you force me to turn around on the chair, your hands carrying their warmth to my cheeks despite the fabric covering them.

''You wanna fuckin' go, lad?'' Your fake and extremely poor impression of a British accent makes my brain melt, but I still find myself leaning my forehead on your shoulder to hide the way my eyes crinkle at your words. Have you been spending too much time with Gaz? Who in the world is teaching you how to be a roadman? It's funny. I bit the inside of my cheek when you broke away and got into a defensive playfight position, already knowing I was in for a treat.

''What was that?'' I get up from the chair, playfully jabbing your shoulder before getting into a fighting position as well. Your body is left unprotected when you laugh, so I take the chance to give you a very soft, mock punch in the stomach, making you laugh harder. ''Fuckin' 'ave it, ya slag.'' I never even knew how much I needed you.

tag list: @rindulacre

550 notes · View notes

luveline · 6 months

Note

Hi don’t know if you’re taking requests (if not please ignore!) just wondering how Halloween would look like in the KBD universe or even a masquerade ball for prince Steve and reader?

thank you for requesting angel ♡ kbd mom!reader, 2k

"I think we should paint her orange," Avery says.

Steve pushes the wand of his bubbles back into the container, coating it in solution. "What for, honey?"

"For Halloween! We'll paint her orange and she can be a pumpkin."

"Oh."

Steve purses his lips, blowing bubbles over the green grass of the garden. It's alive despite it being late October, mildly crisp underfoot. He can hear leaves crunching under Bethie's boots where she runs around toward the back gate.

Wren sees the bubbles and giggles wildly. Steve grins. "You like those, sweetheart?"

"What if we make her green like a witch?"

"Who, Ave?"

"Wren."

"Oh. Well, Wren can't use face paint yet, babe, she's too little," Steve explains, dipping the wand in solution again. "But they're very good ideas. Do you know what you want to be?"

Avery throws her hands out. She's getting older than he ever imagined her, but she's still so small at the end of the day with delicate little hands and facial expressions cute enough to make a grown man cry. Steve would know, he's cried a ton of times just looking at her.

"I already told you."

Steve pretends to remember to spare her feelings as he blows more bubbles. He knows you'll know, and so it's a white lie. Better for everyone. "I remember! You're gonna be awesome."

She smiles for the first time in ten whole minutes and sits down next to Steve. He offers her the bubbles and the wand, freeing his hands to give her a loving squeeze from either side. "Very good ideas," he repeats, patting her arm.

Bethie comes running with two cupped hands. Steve can picture her find before she shows him, and still he's horrified to see a slug in her palm. It's not big but neither is she, lavishing across the breadth of her hand.

Ew, Steve thinks. "Wow, Beth! What did you find?"

"There's snails, too!" she says excitedly, her eyes bright as her attention flickers between the slug and her dad. "They're sleeping, I think. They're stuck to the slide."

"Beth, listen to me really quickly?"

"Yeah, dad," she says, nodding.

"I like that you're being gentle with the slugs, you're being nice, but as soon as you put him down, don't touch your face, okay? In fact, when you put him down, we're gonna go inside and wash our hands."

Beth looks down at her slug in alarm. "What?"

"He's not dangerous!" Steve reassures her. "But he might have germs. Germs don't hurt our skin, but they can't go in your mouth, okay? Good girl."

"He can't hurt my skin?"

"No, bub. Some bugs can, but not the plain black slugs. How about next time you want to pick one up, you come and get me and we'll pick it up together?"

Steve doesn't want to kill her fearlessness in this sole area, not when she's usually timid around everything else, but he also doesn't want to kill her full stop. All these random bugs, Steve doesn't know what's what.

"Okay. I picked this one up because he's got a yellow stripe," she says. Beth speaks in full words and makes sense the majority of the time, but her delivery is clumsy, heavy in places. Steve can still remember her first word. He's a firm believer in taking your time (please. please, let her take her time).

"You're super brave," he praises.

"Mom says bugs are more 'fraid of us than we are of them."

"She's right. Think if something this much bigger than you picked you up one day, you'd want them to put you down gently, right?"

Determination fills her eyes. "Yes."

She starts to run off but then slows, holding her hand aloft in front of her.

Closer by, Avery blows bubbles near Wren's soft chair, the youngest baby giggling like a tinkling bell. You and Steve have emphasised to Avery that Wren isn't her responsibility. Look after her as you would your other sisters, but don't feel like being the biggest sister makes you in charge. Avery sort of listened, but now she's planning Halloween costumes in her head, Steve's worried she's putting too much on her little shoulders, as she tends to do.

"Come here, my big girl," he demands, opening his arms.

Avery grins and jumps into his lap. Steve groans playfully, happy to be trampled, and just glad she had the foresight to screw the cap on her bubbles before she pounced.

"Hello. So, do I need to go to the store for this costume?" he asks.

"Probably."

"Okay. Are you coming with me to choose?"

"Mom said we're all going after lunch."

Steve waves her arms back and forth. "I guess we better get ready, then."

Easier said than done. Steve marches the girls back inside to find you've already dressed Dove and sat her in her chair with her lunch in front of her. Feeding young kids is tough because you're always trying to rotate things to keep their tastes big, but you've given in today to an easy solution; everybody's having pizza subs and halved grapes. So long as they're fed, who minds?

"Give me the babies!" you say, jumping up from your seat to grab Wren, chair and all, "Hi. Something tells me it's time for a bottle."

"I'll get them dressed–"

"Go get yourself dressed. They can eat first." You kiss his cheek. "I put some stuff out for you already."

"I can do it," he insists.

"Take a break," you insist back, your tone gentle as velveteen.

His turn to kiss your cheek. "Do you know what Avery wants to be for her costume?" he asks in your ear.

"She wants to be Belle, she told us weeks ago." He remembers as soon as you say it. "But I don't think finding a costume for her is going to be very easy this close to Halloween."

Steve doesn't blame either of you for your busy October, but he hates himself watching Avery grow more and more disappointed with every store you drive to. There are no yellow princess dresses to be found, only store brand pinks. Bethie is ecstatic to choose one of those ones and Dove insists on a white fairy costume with sugar paper wings, but Avery's frown grows heartbreaking when it's clear there aren't any Belle dresses to buy.

"I'm sorry," you're saying, Wren strapped to your chest, Beth and Dove knee to knee in the shopping cart in front of you. "It's my fault, baby, I left it last minute."

"No, it's my fault," Steve says.

Avery glares for a while, standing in front of all the dresses. Steve bends down to speak with her. "I'm sorry, Ave. Don't be mad at mom, okay? It's not her fault even when she says it is, she was busy working and I forgot about costumes because I had all that stuff with Wren and the doctors and my glasses and–" He winces. "I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. So be mad at me if you want, I was supposed to remember, but I'll make it up to you, promise."

"I told you ages ago," she says morosely.

"I know. You did. I didn't think about them running out of costumes, Avery. Sometimes when you're a grown up you have so much stuff to think of you don't have room for all of it, but that's not fair, huh? Now you don't get the costume you wanted."

She sighs, but the thing about Avery is that if you understand her point, she runs out of anger, just like her mom. She wants to make up, burying her face in Steve's thigh for a hug.

"What am I going to be now?" she asks.

"How about Belle's blue dress, babe?" you suggest.

"They don't have any Belle costumes!"

"I know, but we can make one. That's what me and dad did growing up, right?" you ask.

"All my costumes were homemade," he seconds, "that was the fun part."

So Avery marches you guys to the normal dresses and together you look for something nice and long enough for her tall stature. It's in the middle of this searching when she gasps, jumping up to grab Steve by the elbows.

Delighted at being forgiven, he bends down at her whim. "What?" he asks excitedly.

"Wren can be a bumblebee, like me!"

"You remember that?" he asks.

"No, but you have the photo in the car. Do you still have the costume?"

It's Steve. Of course he kept the costume, he keeps everything, an attic stuffed to bursting with the offcuts of your lives. You giggle from the landing underneath him, the baby in one arm and a spooky drink made special by Dove in the other hand. "I wish you could drink more than milk."

"Don't poison her!" Steve says, covered in cobwebs and knees white with dust as he climbs down the rickety ladder back onto solid ground. You wolf whistle as he reaches up to close everything safely, and cheer when you see the bee costume in his hand.

"You're the best. Think we should let Avery put it on her?" you ask.

"Maybe. Think she can be gentle enough?"

Your little girl, so preoccupied with her sister's costume that she forgot about her own? Yes, Avery can be gentle enough. She sews Wren's small arms into the costume's sleeves like she's handling a girl made of glass, and she doesn't attempt to lift her, quick to say, "Dad, can you pick her up for me?"

Steve lifts her and Wren does her scrunch, legs pulled up high and face a little startled. She's just old enough to giggle, prompting Bethie to join in as she races across the living room rug, the skirts of her dress fluttering against the floor.

"She looks like a bee!" Dove says, following after, her fairy wings jittering with her movements.

"She is!" Avery says, buttoning Wren's last button.

Finally, after an exhausting afternoon (both of energy and your wallets), the four girls are dressed in their Halloween costumes. Avery as Belle in her original blue dress and white apron, not the costume she wanted but clearly her favourite character nonetheless. Bethie wears her pink princess dress and one of Avery's big plastic tiaras, her hair done as you would style your own for date night. Dove twirls in her white fairy dress, silver corset ribbons shiny in the light. Wren gurgles in his arms, her soft wings folded between her and Steve's chest. And you, uncostumed, stand beautiful and tired in the doorway, sparkly eyeshadow in a stripe up your cheek.

The girls smile at him and their eyes glimmer.

"Wow," he says, leaning back against the couch. "You guys look amazing."

"It's about an hour until we're gonna leave," you say, "so please do mommy a favour and watch some TV, okay?"

You set them up in a line with a bowl of chips each —you can vacuum them clean. Steve cleans as quickly as he can while you wipe your face and put aside some stuff for tonight in case the girls come home hungry, and eventually, eventually, you and Steve make your way to the kitchen table for a quiet minute together.

"Wren's–"

"In her bassinet," Steve says. "You're–"

"Fine." You reach for his hand. "And you're–"

"Perfect." He rubs the back of your fingers with his thumb. "I've missed you today. I know we were together, but…"

You slouch into the table, resting your cheek on a placemat and closing your eyes. "Me too, sweetheart."

He shuffles closer and leans in. "Tired, huh?" he asks gently, pressing similarly soft kisses to your cheek. "Love you," he says. "Don't fall asleep."

"I'm not. Just resting my eyes."

He doesn't rub your back, worried it'll send you to sleep. Instead, he kisses all over your face, sloe at first and faster when he realises it'll take a while to cover every inch. You smile and let him do as he pleases, laughing under your breath as he kisses your eyelid, squirming when he pecks under your nose. "Freak," you mumble.

"That's what I'm being for Halloween."

"What am I gonna be?" you ask.

"Same as every year, I thought. Most beautiful girl this side of the Mississippi river."

You like the sound of it, pulling your joined hands to your face to nuzzle his knuckles.

"Or you can be Frankentstein," he suggests. "I'll be the monster."

"We can just be the two tiredest parents ever."

"That's not super creative, babe, we kinda do that every day."

"So I'm not beautiful every day," you say quickly, having set him up. "Knew it."

"You tricked me."

"Did not. Make it up to me?"

"What do you want?" he asks.

"Just a hug, Stevie." You raise your head to smile at him sleepily. "A really nice hug, please."

He saves the line about every hug being nice when it's with you and cuddles you, stroking your back for countless minutes, murmuring nothings to you until baby Wren shriek-cries from the living room. Steve soothes her upset, and you start the impossible task of getting everyone in their shoes for a night of trick-or-treating.

415 notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 3 months

Text

You're My Only Hope for Heaven

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: oh bitch I'm having a fucking blast with this dynamic the slow burn is slow burning

Summary: An unlikely patron saunters into your bar [3.5k]

Warnings: one (1) creepy guy, one (1) fake marriage, lots of flirting that’s not flirting but it’s not not flirting, one (1) kiss

You try not to make it a habit of picking up bar shifts during the week. Not only is it almost always slow, and you barely make any money, but it's hard to go from teaching for eight hours directly to another job. You'd much rather be at home, grading or doing something for yourself for the first time in weeks. But you couldn't say no when Katie called you, almost in tears, begging you to take her shift so she could deal with a burst pipe in her house. You don't regret doing her a favor, but you do regret other things as you stand behind the mostly empty bar as whatever game is happening plays on the screen above your head. You think it's a UT game. Or maybe A&M. Or any of the other SEC Texas schools with an absurd football budget.

You're basically yawning your way through your shift and working through your newest painting in your head, trying and failing to not think about school until absolutely necessary. Principal Martinez is cracking down on the stupid minutiae the school board demands of its teachers, and you spent most of your afternoon writing student objectives on the board. On top of that, your art club kids have been begging you to plan a field trip to the local art museum for weeks. You finally relented, but the paperwork is mind-numbing and requires much more work than you thought. Between working, making art, and trying to live your life, you barely have time.

Another reason you hate working weekdays is the creepy regulars. Normally, you can ignore them on a busy Saturday night, but it's harder when it's as dead as it is. You have no idea how Katie deals with them on a regular basis. It started with a guy at the bar, you think his name is Steve, asking you progressively invasive questions. "How old are you?" "You gotta boyfriend?" "What time do you get off?" One right after each other, even after you made it clear you're not interested. Fake laughing and making excuses to run to the back or change a keg don't throw him off.

"Keep it up, and I'll cut you off." You finally threaten after he asks you why you're being a bitch. You roll your eyes when the bell above the door rings, probably admitting yet another asshole who's gonna make your night hell. When you turn toward the door, the words leave you before you can stop them. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"Now, is that any way to greet your customers?" Joel chuckles, and you sigh as he sits down in front of you. Thankfully, his brother is not in tow, and you can save yourself a little embarrassment. "I didn't know you worked here."

"I don't," you say. "Whatcha drinkin'?"

"Looks like you're workin' to me." He smirks and you shoot him a look.

"You wanna free drink or not?"

"Shiner," he answers quickly. You hum in acknowledgment, not even bothering with the POS system and going right to the fridge to pull a bottle out for him. You pop the cap off and place a napkin under the beer before sliding it to him. "Are you bribin' me?"

"You've gotta be faster with your questions, Miller. You've already accepted it. Might as well enjoy." You say, and he laughs.

"Well, alright, then," he says, raising his beer to you before taking a quick sip. "So, what's this, then? You moonlightin' as a bartender?" He asks, and you fight yourself on how to answer. What if word gets back to parents? Administration? They couldn't reprimand you for that, right? You know plenty of other teachers with second jobs, so it can't be that taboo. Still, you're hesitant to open up to Joel. Out of all the people who could've walked into your bar tonight, it had to be him.

"Something like that." You settle on, wiping a sticky spot on the bar to avoid his gaze. If he feels anything negative about you having a second job, his face doesn't show it. He has a soft smile on his lips and a slight sunburn across his nose, highlighting the freckles living there that previously went unnoticed. You want to tease him about not wearing sunscreen, but the joke dies in your throat when he rests his elbows on your bar, showing off those stupid biceps you can't not look at. He catches your eyes lingering near the short sleeve of his shirt and opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but a grating voice from the other side of the bar cuts him off.

"Excuse me, sweetheart! You've got other patrons over here!" Steve yells, and you feel your eye twitch at his attitude. Joel notices.

"What's wrong with him?" He asks quietly, leaning forward over the bar to get closer to you. Looking into his brown eyes and confused expression, an idea forms.

"Pretend you know me." You say, and his eyebrows knit together, every emotion visible on his face.

"I do know you."

"No, I mean," you sigh. "That guy over there is a regular on Wednesdays, and the girl who usually works is married, so he doesn't try anything with her, but I won't give him my number, and he's making me fucking miserable. So, just... pretend to know me." Joel is bigger than Steve. Much bigger. Probably a whole head taller and much broader than the man on the other side of the bar. One word from Joel, and he might actually shut up or, better yet, leave altogether so you can finish your day without any more hiccups.

"Okay," Joel agrees, and you reflexively reach out to touch his thick forearm and squeeze. You don't even realize you did it until he smiles like he won a staring contest or something.

"Thank you," you say before turning and bracing yourself to deal with Steve. "What can I do for you, sir?" You ask, but before you can even finish your sentence, he holds up his empty beer bottle and waves it in front of your face like you're stupid.

"Another beer." He says, and you bite your tongue.

"You got it."

"Finally," he groans. "You'd think for such an easy fuckin' job, you'd be better at it."

"What the fuck is your problem?" You ask, refusing to move from your spot to get him his beer, and he scoffs.

"My problem is that you're bein' a fuckin' bitch and ignorin' me when I didn't do nothin' wrong." He's slurring his words together at this point, and you wordlessly go to the POS system to close his tab and send him on his way. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" He yells after you.

"Hey, man, why don't you leave her alone? She's just tryna do her job." Joel speaks up from the other side of the bar, and Steve straightens up in his seat as he assesses Joel.

"This isn't any of your fuckin' business. Stay out of it."

"It's my business now. That's no way to speak to a lady. I think you owe her a mighty big apology."

"I don't owe her shit," he spits, and you look over to see Joel setting his jaw and squaring his shoulders. "Why's this even matter to you, big shot?"

"That's my fuckin' wife you're mouthin' off to," Joel says without hesitation, and you quickly school your expression. Wife? You asked him to play along, but you didn't think he'd say that. "So, if you wanna keep the rest of your teeth, I suggest you apologize to her, leave her a nice, big tip for dealin' with your sorry ass, and get yourself a ride home."

Steve is silent as you take the empty bottle away from him— just in case things get really ugly— and slide him his card and bill. He eyes Joel carefully for a few tense seconds before picking up a pen, signing his check, and leaving without another word. The second he's out the door, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders and sigh at the relief. You scrub a hand down your face and look over at Joel.

"You okay?" He asks gently like you're a spooked horse, and you nod. You take a few minutes to get yourself together, putting in Steve's 30% tip and cleaning off the empty bar before returning to Joel. "What?" He asks when he catches you smirking.

"At least buy a girl dinner before you call me your wife." You say, and he laughs, shaking his head.

"You said the other girl is married. I just took it and ran," he says. "And I already tried to take you to dinner, but somebody said no."

"School regulation says it's unethical."

"Well, we're not at school now, and you're certainly not a teacher right now." He says smoothly, vaguely gesturing to your all-black outfit, and you give him a look. "What time d'you get off?"

"You're gonna get me in trouble." You whisper, and he leans forward across the bar.

"All I did was ask you a question." He whispers back, playfully mocking you. It could be the smile on his face, the relaxed humor behind his eyes, or the fact that he stood up for you because you asked him to, but you glance between him and the clock and take a deep breath.

"I get off at 12. Unless it stays dead like this, then I'm closing early," you say, and his smile grows. "But this is not a date."

"'Course not." He chuckles, and you raise your eyebrows at him.

"I'm serious. I need you to say it's not a date, so I know you won't come after me if your kid fails my class."

"Is my kid failing your class?"

"No, she's amazing. But for my own mental well-being, I need you to say that this is not a date." You say, and he grabs your wrist to stop your anxious wringing.

"Let me buy you a drink. That's it. Nothin' more," he says, squeezing you. "This ain't a date."

"Thank you." You sigh, and he nods.

You spend an hour or two idling between conversations with Joel and trying to look busy for any manager who might care enough to check the cameras. You're pretty much done with all your closing duties by 10:00, and you wait until it's been a full hour since anyone else came in to flip the closed sign and do a few last-minute things. When the bar is completely clean, empty, and ready for the next shift, you slink back behind it to make yourself and Joel a drink before sitting beside him.

"You feelin' proud of yourself for getting us here?" You ask as you clink your glass against his and take a sip.

"Yeah, I've got the prettiest girl in the whole place sittin' by me," he says, and before you can even scold him, he throws his hands up. "Not a date."

"Not a date." You repeat.

"Still true, though."

"Don't make me regret saying yes to you, Mr. Miller." You say, and he gives you a look. You like teasing him, especially since you can always see exactly how he's feeling. He's not particularly subtle, contrary to what you're sure others think about him.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Joel?"

"As many times as it takes, I guess," you shrug. "You also clearly have an aversion to being called Mr. Miller."

"My dad was Mr. Miller." He says, and you roll your eyes, groaning and half-folding in on yourself dramatically.

"Oh, my God, do you know how many men have said that to me since I've become a teacher?"

"Well, it's true!" He says. "Are you sayin' other people are tryna tell my wife to call ‘em by their first names?" He asks, and you laugh.

"Believe it or not, you're not the first single parent to ask me out."

"Am I the first one you said yes to?"

"So far."

"So far?" He asks, raising his eyebrows, and you hum. "I'll take it."

Unsurprisingly, Joel is really easy to talk to. He asks questions about your life outside of work, where you went to school, and what made you want to be a teacher. You ask him about his job and family and, somehow, end up talking about the latest cheesy action film he's seen. When both your drinks are empty, the glasses sit there, the ice slowly melting as you talk into the night. Every time a hint of anxiety creeps up your spine, he makes you laugh or tells you an interesting story from his past and distracts you from it. You lose hours sitting there, and you don't even realize it until your phone pings you with a reminder, and you suddenly see it's past midnight.

"Oh, shit," you mumble, showing Joel the time. "I gotta lock up."

"And you have school tomorrow." He says, and you groan as you stand and grab your glasses.

"Don't remind me. I've got like five million things waiting to get done there." You say. He watches you step behind the bar, leave them in the sink for the opener to find, and no doubt send a catty message in the group chat asking who closed the night before. His eyes don't leave you even when you reach up and grab your bag, your sleeve falling down just enough to reveal a nasty bruise.

"Woah, that looks like it hurt," he says, gesturing to your arm. "How'd you get that?"

"Promise you won't laugh." Your response does nothing to clear up his confusion, but he raises his right hand and makes a cross over his heart.

"I promise." His tone is gentle and even, but you're still hesitant to actually admit it.

"I fell off a table."

"I told you!"

"Hey!" You scold. "You promised you'd be cool about it!"

"I promised not to laugh." He says, and you roll your eyes. "They still haven't come to fix it for ya?"

"Would I be climbing on tables if they did?"

"Fair enough," he shrugs. You find the bar keys at the bottom of your purse and walk over to where he's still sitting, your hand resting on the back of your chair. He shifts forward until he can catch the edge of your sleeve and roll it up to see the bruise in all her glory. His fingers are warm, and his touch light as he traces the edge of it, not firm enough to make it ache but enough that you feel the pads of his fingers. You freeze like your stillness will be enough for the feather-light touches to continue, your eyes meeting for a split second. He clears his throat and rolls your sleeve back down for you, drawing his hand back. "Tell you what," he says. "I gotta buddy who gets me a good deal on some spare parts. Let me see if I can track down the part you need, and I'll come fix it myself. Free of charge."

"You don't have to do that."

"And let my wife fall off tables?" He asks, a smirk pulling on his lips, and you shake your head. "It's the least I can do for the free drinks and, ya know, teachin' my kid."

"Fine, but don't make it a thing. The maintenance people already don't like me. I can't imagine seeking outside help will make them like me."

"I won't make it a thing," he promises, leaning back in his chair as his eyes travel up and down your body. He sighs heavily and sucks his teeth like you're suddenly too much, and you smile. "It's a damn shame this wasn't a date."

"What'd you do if it was?" The question borders on dangerous, but you can't take it back now that you've said it. It seems to have piqued Joel's interest, too, because he raises his eyebrows at you.

"You really wanna know?" He asks, and you nod.

"I really wanna know," you say. "How does Joel Miller end a successful date?" He gets a little bashful at the question, a blush creeping up his neck, and you knock his knee with yours to get his attention. "C'mon, don't get shy on me now."

"Alright, alright," he grumbles. "If this were a date, and we were gettin' ready to go out separate ways, I'd walk you out to your car, open the door for ya 'cause a lady should never open her own doors," his voice is slow and low, and he watches your face as he speaks. "And I'd kiss you. Nice and slow so I don't scare ya off or anythin'. I might put a hand on your waist or bite that pretty lip or somethin'. And right when I can feel you wantin' a little more, gettin' a little desperate, I'd stop, say goodnight, and walk back to my truck." His words have a devastating effect on you, and you can't look away from him. The heat rolling off him in waves makes you too warm and flustered. His gaze flicks from your eyes to your lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip, and you have half a mind to think he's looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You have half a mind to let him.

"You're right," you finally breathe. "It's a shame this isn't a date." He nods and stands, his broad chest grazing yours as you look up at him. You're not a science teacher by any means. If you were, you might be able to explain the magnetism you feel toward Joel or what stupid chemical in your brain makes you wonder what tricks he keeps up his sleeve. But you're not. You're an art teacher. So, the only thing you can focus on is the deep brown of his irises and the heavy lashes and crow's feet that frame his eyes. And the swoop of his salt and pepper curls, the tint of his slightly pink forehead and strong nose. You want to capture his image in the dim lighting of the bar, but you settle for committing it to memory to scribble in the margins of your notebook for the rest of the week. Why couldn't you have been a science teacher?

Neither of you says anything as he finally steps away, giving you the space to turn off the last of the bar lights and push through the haze he created in your mind. He lingers by the door and opens it for you when you go to the front and step into the humid Austin night. You lock the doors and give him a small smile when you turn around to see him rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Then, just as he said, he walks you to your car and opens the driver's side door for you. His truck, the only other car in the parking lot, is parked a few spaces away from yours. It would've been so much easier to just ignore you, get in his car, and drive away, but here he is, being the gentleman he's always been toward you. You step into the space created by the open door and throw your bag in the passenger seat, but don't get in the car. Not yet. He sighs heavily, like he's in physical pain, when you meet his eyes again, and his hand flexes around the edge of your car door.

"Thanks for my not date." You mumble, and he nods. You're close (and weak) enough that brushing his lips would just take a strong breeze. It freaks you out how okay you are with the idea of "accidentally" kissing Joel Miller. You should be panicking. Alarm bells should be sounding in your head, but the only thing filling the cavernous space is the echo of his voice explaining what he'd do if this were a date. Idiot.

He leans on your door a little more, and your heart quickens, thinking he might actually be the one to make the move. His head ducks just a little, and you get a strong whiff of his cologne, your eyes fluttering shut at the scent. Your throat is suddenly dry, and you're all but pushing up on your toes when he swerves past your lips and presses a chaste, firm kiss to your cheek. His beard scratches your soft skin pleasantly, and you keep your eyes closed until he pulls away, looking like he just won a prize.

"Get home safe." He says as he steps back, still holding your door open. You sigh and fight a smile as you look at him— cocky, vindicated, and knowing exactly what he just did.

"Goodnight, Joel." You manage to get out before sitting down and letting him gently shut the door for you. You wait until he gets in his truck to roll your window down and shout his name until he does the same. "I'm gonna get you back for that."

"Oh, I'm countin' on it, darlin'."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3

#hippies and cowboys #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller #the last of us au #the last of us fluff #the last of us fic #tlou au #tlou fluff #tlou fic #joel tlou #tlou #tlou hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you

258 notes · View notes

stinkfacestories · 3 months

Text

The day you found out you had won Jason Kelces Beard Challenge was the best day of your life. The challenge was simple: put together a snap or tiktok video of how to get a beard as good as Jason and the top winner would win a day with Jason. Your video was a long shot: you made a tiktok showing how if you mixed essence of dwarf, with a bit of neanderthal, and just a splash of viking inside Abraham Lincoln's hat and applied it to your face, you'd look as good as Jason. It did t get very many views but Jason loved it. The next thing you knew you were in Philadelphia meeting the man himself at the airport.

The tour of Philadelphia through Jason Kelces eyes was a lot of stops at places he loved to eat. Steak sandwich, sausage, pizza, ice cream. The man just loved to eat. As the day dragged on just as Afternoon turned to evening he took you to Lincoln Field, his home turf. There was no game and the place was locked down, but that was nothing a few signed balls couldn't handle.

He took you to the locker room, the place where he told you he feels most free to be himself. You both sat down on the bench in front of his locker. He took out a case of bud light and cracked one open. The man drank so much bud lite you swore he was sponsored by them.

He told you to be quiet. To just listen to the sound of the room. To drink it in and become one with the soul of real American football.

The only thing you heard was the bench breaking as Kelce leaned forward and let out a fart with a satisfied grunt.

"Oh, sorry," he said, not sounding very sorry.

"Really? " you said. You looked at him, almost appalled that he would do that with you right next to him.

Jason turned and gave you a wink. "Dont tell me you don't find farts funny. Your a guy. All guys love farts."

You rolled your eyes. "Not really."

"What about this one," he said and let loose a loud bassy fart.

"God stop it, it's so gross," you said as you slid away, but suddenly found yourself pressed against the wall of the locker room. "Seriously dude. What the fuck?"

"C'mon," Jason said as he moved over towards you. “I warned you. Remember when I ate that large sausage with pickled garlic ave said ‘were in trouble later’? What do you think I meant.” and placed a hand on your chest, giving you a bit of a push. "Don't be a prude."

You were caught between a wall, and a wall of beef holding you in place. "Seriously, stop it".

"Can't stop. Won't stop," he said still pressing you in the wall. His eyes were the kind of dull that only cheap low quality beer can make the."You know I bet you never had an older brother. Between me, my dad and Travis we learned to appreciate farts. My dad told me that the best cure is exposure. So to get you up to speed I think I need to gas you more"

He pressed into you and lifted up his keg and let loose with a fart so powerful it echied through the empty locker room.. You struggled to get away from the horrible stench, but couldn't escape.

"No, don't do this," you said as it overwhelmed you.

He turned around and pressed his huge soft center lineman ass in your face, the soft fabric of his shorts spreading across your face like warm dough. It was too much, and you were powerless to stop it. His asshole flexed and relaxed as it sent out a long drawn out series of wet sounding farts. You gagged as the air around you filled with the horrid odor.

"Fuck that was a good one," he said, not budging an inch. “Three point stance just rips these farts out of me.”

"I think I'm going to puke," you said, trying not to vomit.

"If your gonna puke, aim that way, I like these shorts." he said pointing. "Do you think it's funny yet?"

"No!" You coughed.

"Alright you asked for it" he presses his ass harder, wedging your nose on his cheeks. He let loose with a rapid fire volley of farts that left you breathless and coughing. He backed away, chuckling at you.

"God, fuck, that's rank!" You coughed. You tried to breathe fresh air but the locker room had been total polluted by Kelces ass.

"Come on. You don't have to love them, but you gotta at least admit they are funny and manly now. How can you like football and not think farts are funny." he let you stew and come up with an answer.

"Fuck...no," you say.

He shrugged. "Ok. Your loss," he said and pressed his ass in your face again.

"No! Please. God. No. Fuck!"

"What's it going to take? Do I need to pull my shorts down and give you a bare ass stinkface?" He said, pressing even harder.

"No! No more. Fine. They're fucking funny," you cried.

"What?" He said. "I couldn't hear you"

"They're funny!"

"Now are you just saying that to make me stop?"

"No, I mean it. They are funny and they are manly."

"Well, if it's funny you won't have a problem asking me to do it a few more times so you can properly laugh. Right?"

"Uh...fine. Sure. Just, please, no more, I can't take it."

He turned and farted once. "Laugh. Laugh hard and long and deep." He was getting frustrated that you weren't laughing. "Seriously come on guy. This is just as bad for me as it is for you. It's hard to hold this position and if I keep farting I'm going to have to take a dump soon"

"Oh god no!"

"Laugh dammit!" He yelled.

"No, no, I can't."

"Fine then," he said. He pulled you down and set you face up on the bench. He loomed over you. "Ok big fucking guns time" he pulled down his shorts and hovered his raw hairy bear ass over your face.

"Oh shit, dude please don't!" His as was a beast. This close you could make out the rough skin. His ass had taken a pounding over the years and looked like a hefty bag overfilled with cottage cheese. The hair on his crack was dense and black.

"Do you think this is funny?"

"Yes, yes, fuck, yes!" You were sobbing, your body convulsing.

“Good. Then you'll find this hilarious.” he sat down. He sat down hard. He rocked back and forth, the wiry hair of his ass crack scouring your face. He dug deep like he has an itch he was trying to scratch.

"Laugh. C'mon. Laugh, laugh like a big boy." He said, simultaneously belching and farting.

"Ahahaha!" You started crying and laughing.

"Oh fuck. What a fucking cry baby. Laughing at farts is supposed to be funny. Not sad."

"I'm sorry," you sobbed.

"Just...fucking stop," he said, standing and pulling up his shorts as he got off you. "Baby can't handle a grown man's ass. Jesus fuck"

He sat down next to you. You were still shaking a little, tears coming from your eyes. "I'm sorry," you said.

"It's fine, it's not the first time I've gassed someone like that," he said. "your not the only one who cried either "

You sniffed, still wiping tears away. "It was just so...overwhelming. The smell, and the sound, and the pressure..."

"It was a lot. It was," he said.

He drained his bud light and crushed the can. "Ok second chance to get it right." He leaves forward and farted, then looked to you to see your reaction.

You laughed. A genuine laugh. "Fuck, dude."

He smiled and farted again. You kept laughing. "It's funny, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is," you said, laughing some more.

"Now you" he said

You panicked. You didn't have to fart. You were to nervous.

"What the hell. Do it"

"I don't know if I can," you said.

"Come on. Do it. Do it" he chanted.

"I can't."

"You trying to make me mad? You're a guy. You should always be ready to let rip"

"But I'm not drunk like you are. And I'm not a fucking monster with an ass like yours."

"Fine, then, let's fix that." He reached down and ripped a huge one. He reached for his phone and placed a call "Trav. Yeah we got an emergency. Yeah get that chili defrosted and get some real cheap beer. Ooooh and some gas station food. Yeah he's a wimp. Didn't laugh. No he did. Fuck no she can't come to. Alright. Love you. No homo" he hung up the phone.

"Your brother's coming over?"

"Yup. And he's gonna be pissed if you don't laugh when he cuts one. He loves farts. And he's got an ass that could kill a guy."

"Wait..."

"We're going to our man cave. It's a cabin in the woods. Just guys. Strict no pants policy. You better hope Trav remembered his boxers. You are gonna learn to love being a man like us and become the third Kelce brother, or you ain't leaving that shack."

"What's it going to be like," you said, afraid, but also excited.

"Oh, you're gonna hate every minute, and you're gonna love every minute."

"Fuck. I'm going to get wrecked, aren't I?"

"Oh definitely. We will probably fuck up your head so much. You're going to end up with a fetish for this."

You laughed.

All you could do was laugh.

#stinkface #farting #face farting #face sittting #gassy hunks #jason kelce #stinkface stories

165 notes · View notes

heyidkyay · 1 month

Text

Pause it, play it, pause it, play it | Market girl AU

Matty x marketseller!reader

Summary: Saturday's are always the same working the stall, until a stranger stops in to disrupt your cassette display...

Authors note: A one shot for you, needed something to help me with a little writer's block so I hope it's alright! Nothing too detailed, mostly just fluff, just saw that middle picture and the idea took root:)

“Oi, Rob… You see where I set those new slips I just had?” I called out loudly, riffling my way through the boxes I’d brought over from the van that very same morning. “I swear I left them here in one of these lot.”

Rob seemed to shuffle over towards me at the beckon, peering around the tent whilst I pulled apart one box’s contents.

I huffed when I heard a familiar crunch and looked over my shoulder to see him stood there munching on an apple. “Nah, babe. Sorry. I can ‘ave a look though if you want, got Nance watchin’ out for me.” ‘Nance’ being Nancy, Rob’s massive Alsatian that had once been his grandad’s guard-dog when he’d manned the stall years back.

With a soft chuckle I pushed myself up onto my feet once more, tucking my hair behind my ears as I went.

“Have at, can’t for the life of me find them.” I told him, watching on in growing amusement as he bit down on the green fruit to hold it between his teeth whilst he mooched about the pyramid of cardboard boxes for me, “Sure you’ll still have enough left to sell? Last Saturday you ate your way through six of those, the one before that was the highest yet, at eight.”

Huffing, Rob took another bite of his apple and then shot me a wink. “Keepin’ an eye on me, are you?”

I rolled my eyes as a breathy laugh escaped me, falling against the stall’s main bench so that I could cross my arms over my chest.

A quick glance at the time told me that we still had a while yet ‘til it hit nine and the market opened properly, letting that first bit of crowd sail in. Though I’d always found it was easier most days to just enjoy the atmosphere that was Portobello, instead of focusing in on the imminent mob.

See, I’d been at the market since I were nine, working the vintage stretch with my mum and aunt, having grown all too fond of the people and their many eccentricities. Rob was of the same cloth, though a tad bit older, just enough that I’d had the fattest crush on him and that East London accent of his as a kid.

It had faded over time, mind, what with him jetting off a couple years back when he’d been a holiday rep in Ibiza and me realising that I’d wanted to try my luck at art school. Not that either of those things had worked out, which had ultimately led us back here, surprised not to be rid of the other.

He was as close as I could get to a best mate though. Strange yeah, but he was family, wasn’t he? Everyone who worked the market was.

“With an arse like that? Always.” I retorted easily enough to have him laughing along with me and shaking his head at my antics. Something he’d grown all too used to in the recent years since I’d come back and made my mark with a stall of my own.

It wasn’t anything too grand, my stall. Nothing like the tourist trapping shops that sat a little further down, but sweet enough for the likes of me and the massive music collection I managed to drag down here each weekend. Set up was always mad, yes, but with Rob, Nancy and a few other early starters, time slipped away quick enough.

“Here we go then.”

I blinked and looked back over at Rob, who was now beaming brightly at the set of LP slips I’d ordered in special, waving them about in smarmy pride. I swatted his side as I made a grab for the things, only to have him lift them up higher to where I couldn’t reach.

“Don't be a twat, pass them over. We open in five!”

Rob simply chuckled in retort, taking another chomp out of that apple of his. “A thanks wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Yeah, yeah, I would’ve gotten to it!” I swiftly shot back, jumping up to swipe them from his grasp and grinning in triumph when I managed it. He only laughed, a slight rasp working its way into it like it typically did. “Thanks.” I added after I’d thumbed through the lot, smiling up at him as he made his way to the other side of the tent.

“Buy me a pint and we’ll call it even, treacle.”

I gave him a roll of my eyes, but agreed without much fuss. “Fine, but just the one, tight arse.”

His hearty chuckle filled the steadily growing street of sellers and I watched on as he stroked Nancy’s collar before settling back in at his own stall which resided by mine.

“Penny’s take care of the pounds, my darlin’.”

I raised a single brow and tucked the slips into one of the closer vinyl cubbies- 70’s Proto-punk wasn’t much of a seller anyway. “You mean, look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves.”

Rob clucked his tongue, waving the correction away with the hand that held his apple core, “Alright, smart-arse. You knew what I meant.”

I smirked, tittering quietly to myself whilst he settled his usual bum bag around his hips. It suited him, I thought, the neon green pouch sitting atop that awful red and white apron he’d pinched off the butchers up in Notting Hill when he’d worked there for a weekend. Though I much preferred my own, my nephew having decked it out in all sorts of pins and patches for me a while back now.

With that Rob and I settled into our own stations, me taking perch on the old wooden stool I’d found in the back of a garden shed, and Rob being his usual loudmouth self, beckoning the arriving customers on closer.

The crowd grew bigger and bigger the closer it got to ten, lots of people stopped by to have a chat or a look round, a few purchased a couple of bits. It was mainly just the vinyls that sold these days, but I still had posters, cd’s, and even cassettes on show.

It wasn’t usual for the cassettes to get a good look over though, mainly just a ‘Oh! Do you remember them?’ and then a small laugh before people eventually moved on. Which was why I was more than a little surprised to see a figure having a right old rummage through the steady collection I owned, once I’d managed to wrap up another sale.

Glancing about, I spotted a pair of old birds flirting with Rob by the pears, Nance having gone to settle herself down by my bag in the back to hide from their gentle clucking, and how the crowded mob had thinned out a tad since most people had made their way further down the road’s neck.

I tucked the few notes I held into my pouch and stepped over a tangle of cables to make my way closer to the person, taking in their too big graphic tee and the tight zip up that had been layered over top of it. The nearer I grew the more I spotted though, the slight nod of a head as fingers worked their way deftly through the collection, the array of dark curls that poked their way out of the sides of a worn cap, and then the tiny hoop which dangled from a right earlobe.

“Looking for something specific?”

The bloke didn’t startle much, there was no real jump at the sound of my voice, only the slight tilt of his head, as though he was used to being caught off guard. I watched him closer after that, noting how his thumb trailed across one of the few Sonic Youth singles I had.

“Their ‘86 album?”

His voice was gentler than I’d first been expecting, rasped with a slight accent I couldn’t quite place. I blinked at his ask, skimming through the catalogue of tapes my mind offered me, which hardly ever seemed to move from their typical place of sorting.

“Um, top right? Should be one there, got Sister and Goo too, if I’m not wrong. Though the ‘88 album seems to be their most popular- even in cassette form.” I had rambled a tad there, I knew that much, but it was all part of the job to me. Talk and talk until they either fled the scene or decided to buy more than what they’d first come for. “You into cassettes then?”

He gave me a low chuckle and pulled away from the stand slightly, it was then that I caught sight of his face, a tad bit stubbled and lips parted almost in wait. He must’ve been closer to Rob’s age than my own.

I raised a brow when he didn’t offer me an answer, tilting my head in turn. “Or, is it a gift of some sort?” I dragged out.

With a blink, he seemed to stand a little taller and I noticed he only had an inch or two on me.

“Er, no.” He muttered, before mimicking my head’s movement and propping his elbow up on the cassette stand almost as if he was attempting to suss me out. It took a second before he finally flashed me a slow but genuine smile, “Looking for a certain sound. Some tapes sound better than the actual record so I figured here would be my best bet.”

I hummed, crossing one ankle over the other. “The further back you go you can hear it, but most of their stuff's good either way.”

He smirked as he settled in further, looking out at me from under the brim of his cap, “Aren’t you meant to be selling it to me?”

My laughter couldn’t have been helped because he did have a point there, only… “It’s just not everyday that someone pops by to talk about music mediums with me.” I argued, all too pleased when I heard him give another hearty chuckle in reply, “So forgive me for my excitement.”

“Will do.” He simpered, eyes flicking down to where he still held the Evol tape, I reached out to tap its plastic top.

“That one’s known for its ballads, if that’s something you’re into, but,” I practically sang before peering round him to see if I could find the one cassette case I was thinking of, “If you’re wanting a specific sound then A Thousand Leaves is probably worth giving a listen to. Personally I don’t think it got the recognition it deserved, but there was a lot of experimenting whilst also managing not to betray their roots, you know? It’s softer, smoother, and the guitars are almost unmatched.”

When I went to hand it over to him just to have a look at, I found him already watching me with this inscrutable sort of expression. I merely brushed it off, figuring that he’d just leave if he did eventually grow tired of my ranting, then turned slightly when a round of whispers echoed around the tent. It seemed a few younger girls had wandered straight on over to the independent artists section I had placed by the front and were arguing over who got this one Sam Fender album.

I looked away and went to say something else to him, but the way he'd simultaneously moved to angle his back away from the cassette tapes when he too spotted the new arrivals wasn't lost on me. I frowned a tad, though chose not to comment on it. “So, what sort of sound are you searching for anyway?”

His gaze skittered away from the tapes to meet mine for a second and I wondered, briefly, why he’d so suddenly lost the relaxed stance he’d been in just minutes before, but then he said, “Anything I haven’t heard much of before, in truth.”

Mulling his words over I then gestured towards the stand. “Can I?” I gestured, and immediately he knew where I was going with it, jumping back a step to let me riffle through the lot.

I pulled out a couple I figured he might be into, simply going off of the Sonic Youth album he’d been eyeing, then a few of my own favourites, not that I’d let that tidbit slip.

Handing them over, I let him search through their titles and answered one or two questions he had for me. I had to admit he intrigued me a bit, I’d had music enthusiasts stop by and talk about this and that with me, even had a couple people who played and were searching for new stuff to learn and adapt, but him? He didn’t give much away.

“Any good?” I questioned once I'd wandered back over to join him. I’d only left him to look through the selection again when a customer had called me over towards the front, and was just tucking away the few extra coins I’d been given when he glanced up at me with a bright grin. I was a little surprised to say it caught me off balance a bit.

“I’ll take the lot.”

Trying my hardest not to outright baulk, I paused. “The lot?”

Sure, cassettes weren’t all that pricey, not compared to pressed records at least, but there must’ve been just over a dozen that I’d pulled out to show him and now he supposedly wanted to take them all.

He laughed after a moment, most likely at the baffled look that marred my face, and made to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. “That gonna be a problem?”

The question was almost argumentative, pushy even, but in a jokey sort of way, the kind you’d use when ribbing a mate, not now. Not with some stranger at a market stall. It only left me marvelling further.

“Might be, I’ll have to find a bag big enough to fit them all though.” I countered, hiding my own smile when I heard him laugh again whilst I spun around to fetch exactly that.

“Anything will do, love.”

I dipped my chin in a slight nod but didn’t go right for the usual stack of black baggies I used for most sales, instead I swiped one of the few printed totes I had hung up for trade and tallied up the price. “You gonna be alright walking the rest of the market stretch with that?” I teased him, looking up once the transaction completed to hand him the now very full bag only to find him already looking back at me.

He hummed around a sly smile, fingers meeting mine around the totes handle before they were slipping away again. “Think I’ll make do. Only came looking for these anyway.”

My brows jumped up in surprise as I watched him tuck his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans. “Everyone loves Portobello.” I murmured and his light laughter echoed around the market stall once more before he simply shrugged.

“Been a couple times before, and besides, don't reckon I’ll get a better deal than this, do you?”

My eyes narrowed when I smiled, humoured by his easy going nature and quick quips. I found that I wanted him to stick around a while longer, if only to solve the mystery he made. “No, don't reckon so.”

He lingered for a moment or two more, simply smiling at me and I found myself smiling back, before a gaggle of school kids wandered on over, loud and uncaring of the looks they garnered. They caught my attention too and I found myself reminiscing over years where I’d been much of the same.

When I glanced back over to him, I saw that he was gone. My forehead pinched in confusion and I glanced around to see if I could spot him in the busy crowd, but it had grown all too quickly again and appeared easy enough for anyone to get swept up and lost in.

I rocked back on my heels as I gave up the search, just before I was called over by one of the kids asking for a specific LP. I let it go, him and the strange encounter we’d shared, and went about the rest of the day just going through the motions.

By the time seven o’clock rolled around I was shattered and had already packed most of the stall away. I waited patiently for Rob to help me with loading the larger bits into the van, watching Nance for him whilst he wrapped up what remained of the fruit and veg, knowing he’d take most of it back home to his family. It was at that moment that I caught sight of something amiss in the vinyl cubby I’d used to hide those slipcovers in just before we'd opened.

I walked over and was more than a little dumbfounded to spot a cassette lying there on its side. Standing On A Beach. One of The Cure albums I’d mentioned to that bloke in the cap earlier, the very same he’d gone and bought, and the exact one I was more than sure I’d bagged.

I picked it up, feeling Nancy brush up against my side whilst Rob called out to say that he was just dropping off his usual round of goodybags to the nearby sellers. I waved him off, then looked down at the tape I held, pausing when my thumb caught on something attached to the back.

Flipping it over I found a quickly scribbled note, its corner tucked into the case's opening so that it would hold its place.

(It sounded like you enjoyed this one when I asked about it. Know it’s a first edition too, so I figured maybe you should be the one keep it. - Matty.)

Matty.

“What you smiling at, weirdo?”

I startled at the sound of Rob’s usual drawl, head snapping over to my left to find him already trailing back towards us, a happy grin plastered over his face.

“Go on, tell us!” He ribbed, and now that he was drawing nearer I was quick to tuck the note into my back pocket.

“Nothing, just this tape. Figured I’d keep it.” I told him with a small shrug, clutching the cassette closer when he hip checked me in passing and bent down to give Nancy a good old stroke.

“Thieving your own gear! Wow, that’s a new low even for you.” Rob chuckled, shooting me a bright smile before he stood once more.

“Hush up, it’s a goodun. Forgot I even had it.” I defended, but he merely continued to laugh at me. Rolling my eyes, I shoved his arm lightly before I said, “Now be useful for once and grab the last of those boxes for us, will you.”

“Tetchy.”

I simply snorted, shaking my head as I moved to pick up my bag, clinging to the old cassette case for a second before finally dropping it inside.

“You coming then?”

With a deep breath I took one last glance around the stall and didn’t see anything that had been missed, so I wiped down my jeans and then gave Nance another pet, “Yeah, coming!”

…

My week continued on much the same after that. I worked in the local pub behind the bar when I wasn’t performing on the crate stage there and on my day off I took the tube over to see my mum and nan. They lived further East nowadays, closer to the clinic my nana hated but needed, and not too far from the street she’d grown up on as a girl.

Saturdays were my only market days, even though it was open most of the week. Rob usually did Fridays there and the rare Tuesday too, when he could be arsed. Though the rest of his time was used up by frequenting the old boxing club every other evening, training and helping out with the younger lot that liked to come in. I’d only been half a dozen times, but he was very much in his element there.

So in shorter terms, my week had slipped on by without much fanfare, which meant that Saturday had seemed to both crawl and shoot back around.

I opened the stall like usual, only without Rob for the first time in ages. He had apparently come down with some sort of bug or other that he’d gone and caught off of his nieces when he’d popped round to see them Wednesday afternoon- and well, he was a man, wasn't he? Which ultimately meant that he was dying.

He’d let me have Nancy though, seeing as she hadn’t been out very much since the cold had hit him. So the Alsatian had jumped in my van that same morning and had been as good as gold all day. To be honest, she was a much better seller than me and I could see why Rob always brought her along with him, people seemed to flock to dogs which in turn meant more sales for me.

I’d been fanning the crowds away ever since we’d opened, which typically only tended to happen during half term or school holidays, but nonetheless it was a more than welcome change after the crappy tips I’d garnered down at the pub the night before.

‘Cause well, since I’d dropped out of school I’d taken to performing there on the more livelier nights, a few covers, one or two of my own songs, and then I’d end the set and slide behind the bar to serve. Normally I was fine with that, the tips were often good when both the older folk and the younger lot rolled in, Friday nights especially. Only, there’d been a gig on down at the O2 so we hadn’t gotten our usual patrons in, and had instead been sacked with a couple of stragglers and a less than lively lot.

Still, today more than made up for it.

The sun was shining as much as it could do during a London March, the skies were blue although not completely clear, and the market crowd seemed to be in good spirits too.

Sy, who worked a couple stands down, had passed out a tray of coffees not too long ago, just after the lunchtime rush, and then Dianne and Reg had followed with some of their freshly baked pastries. They’d even thought to bring a little treat over for Nance too.

I'd just texted a picture to Rob to show him what he’d missed out on by having a case of man-flu and had just got up to toss the last of the rubbish away when I was caught off guard by an unexpected surprise.

“You!”

Matty, my mind supplied a half a second later. The same name that had been circling my thoughts since he’d left me that note the Saturday prior. I blinked at the sight of him. He was wearing a cap again, although this one was different, a dusky navy blue that he’d gone and tucked under a giant grey hoodie.

“Me.” He grinned in glinted amusement, jutting out his chin in a gentle hello. “Figured I might find you here.”

The snort I gave was unprecedented, “Oh, really? Wonder what gave that away.”

Matty smirked. Matty. It felt strange to put his name to his face then, even though it had been puttering around in my head like the bouncing DVD logo since the last time we’d met.

“Got any more tapes for me then?”

My eyes squinted in my attempt to dim my smile, not really believing that he was actually here, before I pursed my lips and tilted my head at him. “Might do. Take it you liked the last few?”

He hummed, smiling down at Nancy who’d trailed on over and allowing her to sniff at his hand. When she nudged his leg with her snout I watched on as he dropped into a crouch to give her a proper stroke. Nance seemed to be quite taken with him after that.

I propped a hip against the nearest vinyl cubby, crossing my arms over my chest whilst he replied, “They were good- helped a lot, in truth. You were right about the Roxy Music album, too.”

Chuffed with that, I shot him a pleased little grin.

“You’ll come to learn that it’s to be expected.”

“What, you bein’ right?” Matty wondered with a low laugh, petting Nancy’s head once more before he forced himself back up onto his feet.

“What I said, in’t it?”

He shook his head softly and I felt his eyes on me before I finally gestured him on over to the cassette stand. “I found a few new ones in the charity shop near my mum’s the other day, figured it’d be best to add to the collection after you nearly took the lot.”

“Wow, and she’s dramatic too.”

I swatted his arm thoughtlessly, then stilled the second I realised what I’d done, but Matty was either none the wiser to my momentary pause or just didn’t care. “That come with the job then? Having to be mouthy?”

My jaw dropped a tad at his sudden cheek and I tutted around the tiny beginnings of a stuttered laugh, “You’re brave. I’ll let you have that. But honestly, you’re probably not wrong there either.” We shared a chuckle, coming to a standstill by the tower full of tapes, “Most of this lot have to be gobby enough to have a shout at bagging any customers, especially when Rob’s around.”

“Rob?”

I titled my head over towards the next stall which sat empty, “Yeah, he works the fruit and veg. Might’ve seen, or rather heard him last weekend.”

Matty gave a slow nod, dragging his gaze away from where I’d pointed and back to the many cassettes I had to offer.

“So what're we looking for this time?” I smiled, thoughts on The Cure tape he’d gifted me, although wary to mention it too soon. “80’s Punk? Electro? Rhythm and Blues?” I dragged that last one out, enjoying the sight of his smile and how it only appeared to lift on one side before dimpling the corner ever so faintly.

“Give me one of your favourites.”

“Mine?” I blinked.

He hummed again, fingertips trailing over multiple rows of cases. I watched the movement, caught up in it in actuality, before I tore my eyes back over to him.

I caught him looking again, only this time around I didn’t much question it, not when the Saturday sun sitting high in the sky reflected so prettily in his eyes. Lightening them enough that they almost appeared to glow.

I followed through on the ask though, once I’d finally managed to get my head in working order and drag my gaze back towards the task at hand, pulling out an extensive range of cassettes, both singles and albums, for him to view.

Matty liked to talk, I quickly learned. He asked question after question, even when it seemed like he knew more than he was letting on at times, and he waited whenever someone else walked over, sitting amongst the back shelves with Nancy whilst I talked and sold a couple of vinyls.

Soon enough the sun had started to dip low in the sky and we realised that the hours had honestly escaped us. I was startled when I finally looked down at my phone to see that it was almost time to start packing away, having lost myself in the conversation we’d shared, or rather the debates we had both started over artists and genres, and what decade had done the most for music.

“Oh shit! I can’t believe it’s almost half six!”

Matty appeared to remember himself at my exclaim, pulling out his own phone to see for himself and blowing out a large breath when it rang true. “Fuck, ah, I didn’t even realise.”

He actually looked somewhat apologetic when he met my eye again.

I shook my head and waved him off, “You’re all good, actually one of the best market days I’ve had in truth, made almost double than what I did last weekend, even with the stash you claimed.”

With a soft laugh, Matty made to stand, holding out a hand to help me up too once he'd found his footing. I smiled softly at the offer and took it, perplexed by the careful callouses which lined the tops of his fingertips and the soft palm that accompanied them.

“You play?”

“Hm?”

My chin jerked over towards where an older acoustic hung on display in the stall across from mine, “Guitar. Do you play?”

His brows knitted together at the ask but he did eventually give me a low chuckle too, hand still holding my own. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

My eyes flickered up to find his and I gave a small smirk, unable to help myself. “Intuition.”

Matty scoffed in amusement, “Oh yeah? How’s that work?”

Shrugging a single shoulder, I stepped on closer to him, near enough that the brim of his hat shaded the top half of my face and the toes of our shoes almost aligned. “Just comes to me, I ‘spose.”

He quirked a questioning brow.

“What’s your intuition telling you now then?”

I bit down on the insides of my cheeks in hopes to contain my playful smile, figuring I’d best take the chance now while it was being handed to me. “That you’re gonna buy me a drink.”

“Am I?” Matty answered, voice dropping a fraction as a grin threatened to split his face.

Humming, I could only smile, eyes flickering between his own before they darted up towards the brim of his cap. With the hand not holding his, I reached up and settled it a little lower on his head, then glanced back down at that growing grin. “I mean, if you’re gonna keep coming back each Saturday then…”

His eyes narrowed a tad and finally he let go of the chuckle he’d been holding onto, leaning in even closer to me. “Intuition telling you that?”

“Hm, along with a couple other things.” I quipped, revelling in the hand that came to rest on the hem of my jeans. “So, that drink?”

Matty laughed, sweet and lovely. “Might know a place.”

“Good,” I murmured in the little space he’d placed between us, mouth almost touching his own before I was smirking and pulling away, “Guess you can help me pack up then.”

Matty huffed out a breathy chuckle whilst shook his head at me, watching as his hand slipped from mine. Though he wasn’t left lonely for too long, seeing as Nancy padded on over to him for another round of strokes whilst I set to picking up a horde of albums. “Tease.” He shot out, though he didn't look too disheartened.

I gave him a loud laugh in return, content with being labelled as such. “Well you’d best get to work then. Quicker we’re done here, quicker we can see about you and me sharing anything other than a drink.”

And he did, he set to work swift enough, the two of us slipping by one another with a gentle ease we shouldn’t have yet earned and sharing soft smiles in the lessening market bustle. All the while I continued to wonder and watch him, thinking back on the cassette he’d gifted me and the sudden fondness I’d found for him.

“Ready to go?” He asked me not long later and I found myself never wanting to say no to that pretty smile of his. So I just nodded and took the hand he held out, Nance moving to join us too before we finally ventured our way out of the market street. Matty asking me every question he’d been holding back the further we got, and making realise that I had a horde of my own.

#the 1975 #matty healy #x reader #fluff #flirting #humour #fic #writing #plot #matty #the 1975 band #y/n #matty healy fic #matty the 1975 #reader #oneshot #imagines #heyidkyay

139 notes · View notes

1caru · 10 months

Note

Please! Can you give us more LU in twilight’s hyrule?

More ancestor and descendant relationship between time and twilight! 🥹 *cries*

hehe I'm honored that you like my work so much and want more <3

unfortunately I already have a ton of other projects lined up, so I can't promise anything yet, but you did remind me that I wanted to write a bit of a second part to my Time and Skull Kid comic, so I whipped this up for you. it's not really edited or anything but hopefully you enjoy it anyway~

(here's the link to the comic that comes before this for anyone who hasn't seen it yet, please read it for context:

"Hold on, where's the old man?"

Twilight turned around sharply, drawing a surprised yelp from the sailor sitting on his shoulders. "What?"

"He was just here," said Four, "Did he just... wander off? That's not like him."

"Maybe he got grabbed by something!" Wind exclaimed, searching the dense foliage for any signs of monsters.

"We haven't seen any monsters since we arrived here, though," Hyrule said thoughtfully, “And we would have heard him put up a fight.”

Dread began to build in Twilight's chest as his wolfish senses caught the faintest sound of an ocarina. He lowered Wind from his back and approached Legend, pulling his map out and offering it to the veteran. "I'll go look for him. There's a Spirit Spring not far from here, wait for us there," he explained, tracing the path with his finger, "The tunnel up ahead is dark, so you'll need a lantern, but the tunnel after that is well lit and leads right to the spring. I'll be back soon."

"Hold your horses, rancher," Legend said, grabbing Twilight's shoulder with his free hand before the man could run off into the woods, "Shouldn't one of us come with you, just in case?"

"I... I think I know where he went," Twilight said softly, "Don't worry, I know every corner of these woods. Trust me."

Legend released Twilight's shoulder and watched as he almost immediately shifted into wolf form and darted back down the trail they had been following. He sighed and motioned to the rest of the group, glancing back at the map in his hand. "Well, come on then, guys."

Twilight raced along the scent trail, muscle memory carrying him effortlessly over tree roots and through small tunnels left by local wildlife. His ears flattened against his head in panic when he picked up Time's trail, heading in the exact direction he had predicted. Would he reach his mentor in time? Or had the man already discovered that which he should not see?

The plaintive whistle of the ocarina, which had been gradually increasing in volume, came to an abrupt halt, and Twilight's heart jumped in his chest as if to mimic it.

He was too late.

His paws slowed to a defeated trot as he approached the quiet clearing. He shifted back into his Hylian form, then silently crept through the bushes, bracing himself for what he would find.

Time knelt in the clearing with his back to Twilight, his arms wrapped around a very familiar little spirit. Just beyond them, a simple gravestone sat nestled in the mossy ground, the inscription on it as clear as the day it was chiseled:

Link, Hero and Mentor.

The spirit in Time's arms lifted his face from where it had been buried in the man's shoulder. Little yellow eyes met Twilight's pale blue ones, and the spirit gasped. “Link! Doggy Link is here too!”

Time turned in surprise, as if just remembering who he had been traveling with until ten minutes ago. He smiled at Twilight for a moment, but suddenly found it hard to make eye contact when he noticed the expression on his protege's face.

“Um, Skull Kid, would you give us a moment?” he asked softly, looking down at the spirit that was still clinging to him.

Skull Kid held on tighter, suddenly looking very scared that Time might simply vanish if he let go.

“I'm not going anywhere, I promise,” Time soothed, “I just need to talk to him. I'll stay right here, okay?”

Twilight nodded behind him.

Skull Kid studied Twilight for a moment, then looked up at Time. “...Okay,” he murmured. He picked up the ocarina he had dropped earlier and pressed it into Time's hand. “Play this when you are done, okay? You better play it!”

Time smiled. “I will.”

He watched Skull Kid hop off into the trees, then rose to his feet, cradling the little tan ocarina in his hand. His thumb ran over the polished surface, the texture so familiar yet such a distant memory. He looked back at the gravestone, suddenly regretting that time their little group had taught each other how to read their different Hylian scripts.

“Seems I've wandered somewhere I should not have gone, haven't I?” he sighed.

Twilight walked into the clearing and stood by Time's side, somberly following his mentor's gaze. “Did Skull Kid tell you anything?”

“No,” Time replied, “But actions often say more than words can.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, unsure how to approach the subject at hand.

Twilight opened his mouth to speak, but Time quickly raised a hand to stop him. “Pup, I will not ask for an explanation if you do not want to give it. The flow of time is all too easily altered after all, one little word can completely change the course of history. However,” he continued, turning towards the young man, “I've seen the way you look at me, especially when our journey began. Someone your age should not have to look so sad. If telling me about this will ease some of the burden you carry, then I am more than happy to listen.”

Twilight looked up at him, his thoughts tripping over themselves in an effort to reach a decision. He desperately wanted to tell Time everything, how he had met him, what he knew of his mentor's fate. He wanted to tell him that changing the flow of time was his greatest desire, that he wished every day for a way to save Time from a death filled with regret and sorrow. And yet, his mind always wandered to that moment, when he had dealt the final blow to Ganondorf. The blow that Time's spirit had taught him. Would he had been able to defeat the Demon King if his ancestor had not been there to guide him? Would “saving” Time ultimately mean dooming Hyrule? Would it mean dooming more young heroes after him to take up the sword and attempt what he could not accomplish?

The rancher closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead on Time's breastplate as his shoulders sagged and tears threatened to form. Time held him close, rubbing gentle circles on his arm with one hand and wrapping the other around his upper back, still clutching the ocarina.

“It's more of a memorial than a grave,” Twilight eventually spoke, "I met your spirit during my journey. You taught me your sword techniques. I suppose I just wanted to thank you by honoring your memory."

Time hummed in response. “I must have been a good teacher then. Your skills are amazing to watch in action.”

Twilight let out a watery chuckle. “They saved my life more times than I can count.” He rested in Time's arms for a moment more, then pulled away with a small smile. “I think that's all I can say for now. Go ahead and spend some time with Skull Kid, I'll tell the others you'll catch up later. Ask Skull Kid to lead you to Ordon Village when you're done.”

“Thank you,” Time said gratefully.

Twilight nodded and headed back out of the clearing.

“...You know,” Time continued, looking at the ocarina thoughtfully, “That song he was playing, it's not from Hyrule.”

Twilight paused.

“It holds a very powerful magic, one said to put the sorrows of the departed who hear it to rest and allow them to pass on peacefully.”

Pale blue eyes widened as another memory floated to the surface. A stone sitting on a mountain path, howling a song that he had mimicked without wondering what it meant. A song that had been answered by a golden wolf with a single eye. A Shade, uttering words that Twilight had almost forgotten in his worry over Time.

At last, I have eased my regrets.

Perhaps things would turn out all right in the end after all.

#lu time #lu twilight #linked universe #linkeduniverse #my writing #icaru's asks #thanks again for all the love #im glad that comic resonated with yall and i hope you enjoy this too

510 notes · View notes

literaryavenger · 2 months

Text

Captain America: Civil War - 5

Summary: Team Cap gets taken to the Raft.

Pairing: Avengers x Reader, Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries. Language. Mentions of Y/N. A little angst if you squint. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1.8K

A/N: Thank god it took me very little to finish this one! Hope you like it!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The Raft.

That’s where they sent you after they arrested you in Germany. The fucking Raft.

You haven’t even seen Wanda since you were handed your very unstylish new clothes and they made you change.

You got separated from her when they took you to your cell between Scott's and Sam's. You dread what they're going to do to her, but you're powerless to stop them.

You sit on the ground of your cell and don’t move from there, barely registering what happens around you until the sound of clapping snaps you out of your trance.

“The Futurist, gentlemen!” Clint shouts but you still don’t move, just listening to the scene. “The Futurist is here! He sees all! He knows what's best for you, whether you like it or not.”

“Give me a break, Barton.” You hear Tony say and almost show some emotion, but stop yourself. “I had no idea they'd put you here. Come on.”

You hear Clint spit and then say “Yeah, well, you knew they'd put us somewhere, Tony.”

“Yeah, but not some super-max floating ocean pokey. You know, this place is for maniacs. This is a place for…”

“Criminals?” Clint interrupts him. “Criminals, Tony. Think that's the word you're looking for. Right? That didn't used to mean me. Or Sam, or Y/N, or Wanda. But here we are.”

“Because you broke the law.” Tony says.

“Yeah.” Clint says back and starts chanting “La la la la la” while Tony talks, making you grin slightly.

“I didn't make you. You read it, you broke it.” Tony keeps talking. “Alright, you're all grown up, you got a wife and kids. I don't understand, why didn't you think about them before you chose the wrong side.” he says and your face falls again immediately, knowing Tony went too far.

“You gotta watch your back with this guy.” Clint says before slamming his hands on the bars angrily. “There's a chance he's gonna break it!”

“Hank Pym always said, you never can trust a Stark.” You hear Scott say from the cell on your right.

“Who are you?” Tony says, his voice closer to you than before, and you can hear Scott mumbling “Come on, man.”

Tony gets to your cell and sees you sitting on the ground, hugging your knees tight to your chest, your head resting back on the wall while you look straight ahead.

Tony is nothing short of shocked when he sees your face all beat up and bruised, your arm bandaged with blood seeping through it showing just how big and deep the cut is, all courtesy of Ayo.

“I never wanted to see you like this...” Tony says softly but you don’t even react to his words.

He’s standing in front of you but it’s like he’s not even there, like you’re looking right through him to something more interesting behind him.

Tony sighs and shakes his head before moving to Sam’s cell.

“How's Rhodes?” Sam asks right away.

“They're flying him to Columbia Medical tomorrow. So… fingers cross.” Tony answers and you close your eyes, grateful that he’s still alive at least. “What do you need? They feed you yet?”

“You're the good cop now?” Sam asks almost in disbelief.

“I'm just the guy who needs to know where Steve went.” Tony answers calmly.

“Well, you better go get a bad cop, because you're gonna have to go Mark Fuhrman on my ass to get information out of me.”

“Oh, I just knocked the 'A' out of their 'AV'.” Tony says, much too playfully for your taste. “We got about 30 seconds before they realize it's not their equipment.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his next sentence. “Just look. Because that is the fellow who was supposed to interrogate Barnes. Clearly, I made a mistake. Sam, I was wrong.”

Your eyes snap open at his apology and, even though you can’t see either of them, you know Sam’s feeling the same way as you, which is confirmed by his next sentence. “That's a first.”

“Cap is definitely off the reservation but he's about to need all the help he can get. We don't know each other very well. You don't have to-”

“Hey, it's alright.” Sam interrupts him, then you hear him sigh and after a little pause he says “Look, I'll tell you… but you have to go alone and as a friend.”

“Easy.” Tony says and Sam proceeds to tell him all about the Hydra base in Siberia and the other supersoldiers.

When Tony leaves, Sam once again tries to make sure you’re okay even if he hasn’t had luck at getting an answer out of you since you got here.

He knocks twice on the wall between you two then pauses and then knocks three more times fast before talking, a thing you two started doing since you both moved into the Avengers Compound so you would know it was the other knocking right away. “Are you okay?”

You don’t answer him and can hear him sighing before continuing talking.

“Look, I’m sorry you got caught up in this and-”

“I don’t regret the choice I made, Sam.” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence, speaking up for the first time since you got arrested at the airport. “As much as this sucks, it was the right thing to do. I know it was.”

You don’t say anything else. Sam can tell you mean it and he knows better than to push you.

“They’ll be okay.” He says after a moment of silence and then lets you be.

You know he means Steve, Bucky and Tony but you can’t help but think he’s trying to reassure you that Bucky’s gonna be fine.

And you can only hope that he’s right.

A couple of weeks after Tony’s visit there’s a commotion in the prison.

You haven’t so much as made a sound since that day, aside from your daily knock on the wall between you and Sam so he can make sure you’re okay, knowing you well enough to know you don’t want to talk but still wanting to check in.

But you can’t help but let out a loud gasp when you see Steve just standing in front of your cells.

You look around when the cell doors open and you hesitantly get up from the floor and walk towards Steve. He hugs Sam, then you, then Clint and then pats Scott on the back, but doesn’t linger long before he’s guiding you towards another level where Wanda is.

You get to her just as the door to her cell opens and you rush inside with Clint to take off her collar while he takes off her straightjacket. You hug her tightly and wrap your arm around her with Clint to help her move you since she looks a little worse for wear.

You manage to move through the prison without problems. You have to hand it to Steve, he’s a hell of a criminal.

When you get to the landing pad you see the Quinjet ready for take off and you all rush inside just to see Bucky at the commands and you smile brightly at the sight.

You have no time to comment, though, as Sam shouts “What are you waiting for?! Go!”

Bucky rolls his eyes but calmly says “We have one more coming.”

You frown. One more? You turn to Steve confusedly but before you can ask anything you can see blond hair darting into the Quinjet and then Natasha’s there.

Bucky instantly takes off and you all take seats and buckle up.

There’s a moment of silence while everyone processes what just happened, but you break it while looking at Natasha that’s sitting directly in front of you.

“Are we gonna talk about the hair?” You ask arching your eyebrow with a smirk.

She groans in annoyance and you can hear the others chuckling while she says “We are not.”

After a few hours you all get to a safehouse and Steve ushers you in before showing you around.

It’s not bad: a secluded cabin with three bedrooms, not too big but Steve assured you you wouldn’t be staying there long anyway. Which makes sense, you're on the run now so this is just temporary.

After the tour Bucky approaches you in the living room and only then you notice he’s missing his metal arm.

“You flew the jet with only one arm? That’s impressive…” You can’t help yourself as you reach to touch his left shoulder, your eyes fixated on it. But stop on your tracks when you feel his right hand carefully cupping your cheek.

Your eyes snap up to his and you can see him thoroughly inspecting the wounds in your face that are still healing a little. He grimaces when he looks down at your bandaged arm and whispers “I’m sorry…”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Sergeant.” You smile softly at him and put your hand over his still on your cheek, trying to reassure him that you’re fine.

“I bet you can, doll.” He chuckles.

You’re too busy staring at each other to notice everyone’s attention is on you until Steve clears his throat with an apologetic look on his face.

“We need to go, Buck.” He says and you look confusedly between the two men.

“I’m going back into cryo.” Bucky clarifies for you.

“Oh.” Is all you can say and your eyes widen for a second before you force yourself to put on a more neutral face.

“It’s okay.” He smiles at you, but you feel like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, doll.”

You try your best to smile and not look too bummed out. “I bet you can, Sergeant.”

You hesitate for a moment before surprising him, the others and even yourself by giving him a hug. He hesitates too before delicately hugging you back and, after a moment, you pull away.

He smiles at you with a faint blush and you smile back, watching him walk to the door.

Steve passes you on his way to the door and kisses your forehead, whispering “He’ll be okay” before saying goodbye to the rest of the team, assuring you that he’ll be back soon. Then he also goes through the door and soon both the supersoldiers are gone.

You turn around with a sigh and see Sam, Natasha and Clint standing there, grinning at you, Wanda and Scott looking more compassionate than teasing.

You narrow your eyes at the first three and say sternly “Not. A. Word.” punctuating every word by pointing threateningly at each of them.

They raise their hands in mock surrender while snickering but thankfully don’t say anything and everyone just scatters around the safehouse.

You see the Quinjet depart from the window and try your best to look at the bright side: This isn’t forever, you’ll see him again.

Right?

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham @mary-jinx @abbyyourlocalmilf @selcouthial @esposadomd @americaarse

121 notes · View notes

dark-frosted-heart · 6 months

Text

Roger's Wicked Birthday - 1st -

The story's in his POV. As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Nsfw. Awkwardly translated smut.

They say that something predestined, something that cannot be changed or avoided, is called fate.

Being born male, female, or otherwise.

Where and when you were born, how long you'll live and when you'll die, all of these seem to be predetermined.

I've always been looking for a way to fight against all of that.

Roger: Hey, Jude. Cut back on those cigarettes. You don't know when those lungs of yours will fail.

Jude: Quit yer yappin'. Are ya my mom or somethin'?

Roger: Don't remember givin' birth to an arrogant, swearing bastard like you.

As I walk away after finishing up Jude's regular check up, my ears pick up the hustle and bustle of the dining room.

Roger: Huh? They're bein' awfully noisy.

As expected, when I entered the dining room, I found Harrison listening to a distraught Liam.

Roger: Hey, what's up? Did somethin' happen?

Liam: Kate isn't back yet so I want to go look for her now.

(The little lady?)

Roger: Calm down... You're not gonna find anything if you run out in the dark.

Harrison: Yeah, Roger's right. You were the last one to see Kate, weren't you Liam?

Liam nods.

Jude: You were supposed ta be watchin' 'er. Why'd ya let 'er go about as she pleases?

Liam: Tomorrow's Roger's birthday so we went out shopping to celebrate in advance. I thought about dressing up a bit and doing some stuff that'll surprise Roger.

Harrison: Liam, I now there's something you don't want to tell us, but now's not the time.

Liam: After we finished shopping, we parted ways near Leadenhall Market. Kate told me to go home first because she wanted to buy something in secret.

Harrison: Where'd you and Kate part?

Liam: At a bakery called "Harmony". Around there.

Harrison: If it's around there then...flowers, huh?

Liam: Flowers?

Harrison: Did she go by herself to get flowers for Roger?

Roger: Me?

Harrison: Yeah. There's a popular flower shop in alley where Liam and Kate parted ways. She probably knew about it.

Jude, who was quiet this whole time, muttered something troubling.

Jude: Tha's right, there's been some strange incidents lately. The naïve princess must've gotten mixed up in it. That woman (the queen) must 'ave some kind of info. Maybe.

Roger: I'll go get Victor...

There's been some kidnappings recently where Kate was now alone.

All those kidnapped were women, and those who were lucky enough to escape only had their hair cut, so it seems like they were kidnapped to sell their hair at a high price.

Based on the information from Victor, it was decided that Crown would search several hideouts of the criminals.

Harry and I ran through the back alleys of London in the dark.

Roger: ...? Hey, Harry. I can hear a man...and the faint voice of a woman through this door.

Harrison: May that's it. Let's go.

The man's voice gets clearer as we head down the path leading to the basement.

Men with guns and knives gathered in the dark.

(I see. So a bunch of thugs were kidnapping people)

Bearded man: After our watch is done, let's go for a drink- Huh, who're you?

In the dim light, Harrison and I exchanged glances. In times like this, a liar and traitor's quick thinking is useful.

Roger: Don't be so guarded. We're your buddies. We thought we'd take part too.

Bearded man: Huh? What're you on about? We'll lose our share with more people.

Harrison: Don't be like that. The police have been sniffing around lately.

Bearded man: The police...?

Harrison: We got contacts in the police. I got info on how to escape them.

Man with a gun: Hey... Wouldn't it be better if we brought them in?

Roger: Oh, we got a right to choose though. Let's hear some details about what you guys are doin'.

Bearded man: It's simple. You kidnap a woman to sell her hair and if she gets out of line, you kill her. That's it.

Man with a gun: In this day and age, a corpse has some value so it's like killing two birds with one stone.

(Yep, these are definitely the guys. Can't mess this-)

(0)

Harrison and I fire at the same time.

Criminal: Guh...

Roger: What's up? You're bein' unusually aggressive Harry.

Harrison: Yeah, wel... Anyway, I'll take care of the rest. You go ahead.

Roger: Yeah, I'm on it. Can't help but hear Kate's voice in my ear. Don't die Harry. Bringing you back will be a pain.

Harrison: Gotcha...

I head into the darkness, the sound of gunfire behind me.

(Multiple female voices...One of them...sounds like Kate)

I thought Kate would be sobbing in fear-

Kate's voice: -ight... It'll be alright. Help will come. It'll be alright...

My ears picked up Kate's voice, who was assuring the other women with her.

Roger: Geez... You're even worryin' over others in a time like this.

I run and run toward the voice, open the door in the dark, and head up the stairs.

Muscular man: Hey, who're you- Gah?!

I shoot and kill the criminals that come at me as I keep going.

(Found her...)

Among the women bound in rope is Kate.

Kate: Roger...

(Why're you trying to smile at a time like this?)

(You're not fooling anyone...)

As I go up to her and cut the rope with a knife, I notice flowers that fell at Kate's feet.

Roger: ...

Seeing them, I impulsively-

I held Kate tight in my arms.

Roger: Are you hurt?

Kate: Nothing serious. Just some scratches...here and there.

It's so like her to not count scratches as injuries.

Roger: I see...

Kate: I was sure...

Roger: Hm?

Kate: I was sure that Crown...that you would come and save me.

Kate knew about my curse as the "treacherous huntsman".

Still, she believed in me and fought against fear and anxiety.

(Damn. You're so cute and brave)

Roger: You're my birthday present, got it? Not letting anyone take you away from me.

Kate: Got it...

Kate's body starts trembling as if finally letting go of all the pent up fear.

I pat her back as if soothing a baby.

Roger: Scary wasn't it...

Kate: Yeah...

Roger: You did your best. You were great.

Kate: ... Roger... I-I...

Kate bawled so loudly that I couldn't help but smile.

After taking care of everything, I brought Kate back to the castle and tended to her wounds.

Kate: O-ow. It hurts...

Roger: It's supposed to hurt. Otherwise this wouldn't be moxibustion.

Kate: I'll accept it...

Maybe because she was still feeling guilty, Kate endures the pain without a fuss.

As I watch her in amusement, a thought appears in the back of my mind.

It's said that those cursed will meet an equally tragic end.

That's a solid conclusion I came to after years of researching curses.

(That's what's supposed to happen to us)

(I wonder what Kate's fate's like)

Kate's a curious woman who's aware of the fact that the world isn't pretty, yet still retains some purity in her heart and eyes.

Even those in Crown with strong personalities seem to be moved by her.

(A miserable fate doesn't suit Kate)

A long life's better than a short one, better to be surrounded by people than alone, and a warm place's better than a cold one.

(The kind of fate that suits someone who's able to smile so peacefully)

It was out of character for me to think of that for Kate who trusts others so easily.

Roger: Alright, done.

Kate: Thank you so much. Sorry for bothering you so late. Then...

Roger: Hey now, who said you could go?

Kate: Huh?

Roger: The treatment's finished, but the punishment isn't, little lady.

I sit down next to Kate on the bed, who makes a sound in her throat.

Kate: Punishment...

Roger: Thinking you'll get an answer right away just by asking's a bad habit of yours. Ask yourself why you're getting punished.

I whisper in her ear as I swipe my thumb across her lips.

Roger: I won't stop until you get it right.

Kate: Um, uh...

Kate jolts when I nibble on her ear before capturing her lips.

Kate: Nn...Roger...

(Soft as ever...)

Roger: Mm...Come one, answer me.

Kate: Because I got hurt...?

Roger: Wrong.

Even after releasing her wrists after kissing her repeatedly, Kate lets me do as I please.

Kate: Nnn... Hm? Ah...

(Hmm, not runninn'? Ahh...you obediently did as you were told)

The way she accepts my kisses while thinking fills me with sadistic desires and I hook my fingertips on the neckline of her dress.

Roger: That's it, think about it.

Kate: You don't need to tell...Ah...

Her breasts spill out as I pull down her dress and my lips are on her.

Roger: Hm? Givin' up?

While licking a nipple, I tease the other with my fingers.

Kate: ! I'm not...

(Ah~ That's a good look. You look so frustrated...like you're about to cry)

Kate: Ah...Is it...because I wandered off on my own?

Roger: Nope.

Kate: Huh...Ah....

I roll the peak in my mouth and Kate lets out a faint gasp.

(I'm disgusted at the thought that other men did that to her...)

I continue to suck and nipple as I slip my fingers in the wetness between Kate's legs.

It was already so wet and like with her nipple, I flicked her bud with a finger.

Kate: Ah...Nngh...Roger...

The moment I saw tears welling up, the irritation I felt within me finally subsided.

Kate: I...give up...

I grab Kate's chin and look at her as she muttered in frustration with tears in her eyes.

Roger: Hey, Kate.

Kate: Yes...?

Roger: I can't stand it when others make you cry. I'm the only one allowed to do that...Right?

Kate: Ye- Huh?

(What......................)

Roger: What's up with that response.

Kate: I just didn't expect it... I'm...not Roger's or anyone else's!

Roger: Then why're you squeezing my fingers so tightly?

Kate: That's because...Ah...I can't...

Roger: I'm not gonna last so let me enjoy your tears for a little longer.

Kate: Ah...wait...Roger

After that, I made Kate cry out a lot before having her finish me with her hand.

Satisfied, I went out for a drink with Jude.

Using my birthday as an excuse, I made him buy me a drink.

(I drank too much last night...)

I was lying on a sofa in the lounge with the aftertaste of alcohol still lingering when I felt a shadow over my face.

Kate: Roger...? Are you dead?

Roger: I am. So what do you want with a dead man? I'm not taking any complaints about last night.

Kate: It's not that. I have something for you.

(...?)

When I sat up, Kate shyly held out a bouquet.

Kate: Happy birthday Roger. Also... Thanks for being born.

Roger: O_O ...

(Wha...)

(Thanks for being born... That's the first time I've heard it since my curse)

(Kate...Only you of all people would say that without any hesitation)

Kate: Roger? Um...I went shopping with someone this time?

Roger: Haha, I know. Thanks...

Kate smiles happily like a puppy.

(Her crying face is the best, but her smile- it suits her)

Her smile's so cute that I can't but want to tease her again.

Roger: Hey, Kate. I must've fallen for you if I'm always thinking about you right?

Kate: Excuse me........ I-I don't know!

Roger: Pfft, hahaha. How cold.

After that, while I was walking with the bouquet Kate gave me, Victor suddenly told me what those flowers meant.

Anemones meant "fleeting love".

Kate probably didn't know what the flowers she gave me meant, but it's ironic.

My fate's a future ruined by guilt.

The worst fate lies before me, but I'm not gonna let it get me down now.

Trampling on fate, I-

Roger: Now, let's fight against it again today.

#ikemen villains #ikevil translations #ikevil summary #roger barel #ikevil roger #ikevil #ikevil jp

228 notes · View notes

call-sign-jinx · 4 months

Text

Spencer Reid X Reader - "You are smarter than me."

summary: there's a competition between you and reid about who is smarter than who. when he finally confesses something y/n can't get it out of her head so confronts reid about it.

warnings: unknown pining (reader was too busy trying to one up spencer), swearing, making out

a/n: hey girliessss! av jus started watching criminal minds and i love spencer's character! don't know if this is completely accurate of his character so pls don't come for me 😂😂 anywaysssss enjoyyyyy xx

spencer reid x fem!reader

Spencer Reid was and still very much is a pain in my arse. We both have IQs of 187, able to read 20,000 words per minute, have 3 PhDs and he thinks it's a competition, but I'm smart enough to know that if we actually put our smarts together then we'd make an unstoppable team for the BAU. However, he thinks it's a stupid competition of who is actually smarter.

So instead of being a normal human being and talking things through with Reid, I decided to play his little game because I've grown to absolutely love pissing him off. It's become my new favorite hobby.

"This guy seems to be a complete psychopath, he shows barely any sympathy. He only has a few close relationships with people, but he even takes advantage of them." Reid says as we're talking about the new guy we're profiling. However, this reminded me of something. Reid is explaining a sociopath, not a psychopath.

"Actually, Reid, you're describing a sociopath. Psychopaths have no empathy while sociopaths have some empathy. And this sociopath we're dealing with has a few close bonds with few people. However, psychopaths have no close bonds with anyone, as they find people easy to manipulate and just a little puppet. The guy we're dealing with enjoys hurting people for personal gain, not enjoyment like a psychopath would." Reid's facial expression makes me grin. He's pissed.

"Good work Y/N." Gideon pats my shoulder as he walks away to get a cup of coffee.

I give Reid a smug look as I go towards the little breakroom. I can feel him quickly following after me, God I love pissing him off, kind of makes me forget that he's so good-looking.

As I get to the breakroom, it's empty, I go towards the cupboard and grab my special mug with little daisies all over the mug with a light blue background. I put a tea bag in the mug and go to put the kettle on but Reid gets in the way.

"Care to move out of the way Reid?" I say as politely as I can but it's hard with the look on his face, I can tell he's angry angry.

"Care to stop making me look like a dumbass?" His jaw tensed as I smirked at how pissed he was.

"Maybe educate yourself a little more then you'd stop looking like a dumbass. It's not my fault I'm smarter than you. One day you're just going to have to deal with it." Reid seems to be getting angrier and angrier with every word I say.

"You are not smarter than me Y/L/N. Just because we have the same IQ, both have 3 PhDs - in which one of them is practically useless - and can read 20,000 words per minute does not mean you're even as smart as me." Reid's tone reeks with venom laced in every word.

"Actually, my degree in biochemistry may be useless to you. But, it's not as useless as you think because it's helped solve cases faster than without my biochemistry PhD. So you are yet again wrong." My smug grin only becomes bigger as I correct him for the 4th time this week. It's Monday.

For once, Reid was absolutely speechless. Not really the reaction I was looking for. And on top of that, his facial expression was calm. Makes me feel uneasy. Very uneasy.

"You know what Y/N. I'm just going to end this right now. You are smarter than me. And you want to know why I'm admitting all of this right now? Because I am tired of pretending that we don't want each other. I'm tired of pretending not to see the look on your face when I'm wearing that particular shirt that I know you like." My breathe hitches at even the slightest mention of that shirt, he always looks so damn good in it. "And I know you're getting tired of it too, especially because of the glances you send my way from your desk." He was now inches away from my face, his breathe fanning against my ear.

As he finished talking, he pulled his face away gave me a small knowing smile and walked out of the room. I was flabbergasted. Reid wanted me? Like in that way?

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

For the rest of the day, I stared at the case files. What Reid said took me aback. Not even I knew how I felt about him until he mentioned all those things.

I was taken out of my trance when someone knocked at the door. "Come in." I sigh as I lean back in my chair. When the door opens, I see JJ.

"JJ, what's up?" JJ sits down in the chair opposite mine. She has a warm smile on her face as we make eye contact.

"We've cracked the case! It wasn't the husband who killed her. It was the gardener because he was having an affair with the husband and wanted the husband all for himself!" JJ was ecstatic, it took us almost 3 weeks to crack this case.

"How did you figure it out?" I leaned on my desk, almost as happy as JJ finding out that we cracked the case.

"Wasn't me, it was you." I leaned back in my chair in shock.

"Me? What did I do?" JJ smiled and leaned forward on my desk.

"Reid told us that your correction to his mistake helped him find out that the gardener was a diagnosed sociopath and the only person who fit the description. At first the gardener wasn't even considered by how well he and the husband covered up their affair!" I leaned back in my chair, guess Reid really meant it when he said our 'competition' was over.

"Glad I was able to help." I had a small awkward smile on my face, the mention of Reid reminded me of what he had said to me earlier.

"Also, we're all going out to celebrate. The bar 2 blocks from your apartment building. 8 o'clock." She smiles at me before closing the door.

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

As I arrived at the bar, everyone was there. JJ, Garcia, Morgan, Gideon, Hotchner, Greenaway. And Reid. God why did he have to look so good? The way he styled his hair, the clothes he wore, the way he presented himself.

I made my way to JJ and Garcia who, from what I heard on my way over, were talking about how buzzed they were about solving the murder.

"Y/N! Heard you were the one who solved the case! Well done! Proud of you flower!" Garcia hugged me, I looked over her shoulder to see Reid staring at me, he had a look on his face that I couldn't pinpoint and haven't ever seen before. Especially not on his face.

"Thank you. It was Reid who helped me actually. If he didn't make a small error I wouldn't have even mentioned that the killer was a sociopath." I tucked some hair behind my ear as I smiled shyly.

"Reid told us you'd say that. Speaking of, how come you and Reid are giving the credit to each other? Usually you both argue for the credit." JJ had a suspicious look on her face as Garcia stated this.

"We just had a chat in the breakroom and decided it was the adult thing to do and stop our little competition we had going on." JJ and Garcia wasn't convinced but they nodded their heads anyway.

As the night went on, everyone except for me and Reid got drunk. Because I don't really like being around drunk people, I sat in a booth away from everyone else.

I was looking through Instagram on my phone when I felt the seat next to me dip with someone's weight. I looked up from my phone to see Reid next to me.

"Hey Reid, what's up?" Reid had the same look on his face from earlier. Made heat rush straight to my face.

"You still thinking about what I said earlier?" He rested his face on his hand as he stared at me intently. The heat in my face only grew more as he spoke. I never noticed how much I actually like the sound of his voice.

"What exactly did you say Reid?" I tease him a little bit. I remember exactly what he said. Word. For. Fucking. Word.

"Please don't make me say it again, I had a sudden urge of confidence in that moment and just then." He leaned back and looked at me pleadingly.

It made me giggle. How introverted he is but when he wants to be he can be the most extroverted person ever.

"Don't worry love, I remember and cannot stop thinking about what you said." I leaned closer to him, leaving just a few inches between our faces.

"R-really? I... I-I was kind of hoping you wouldn't." He had an awkward and embarrassed look on his face.

"And why's that?" I lean slightly closer, I can feel his breathe quicken.

"B-because you obviously don't feel the same way, the way you oppose me every chance you get, the way you look at me when I correct you, the tone of voice you use when you speak to me. The facts are there Y/N, to anyone it'd seem like you almost hate me in a way." When Reid was stating the facts I felt horrible, he thought I hated him. I could never hate him, I just hate when people correct me.

"Spencer. I don't hate you. I could never hate you. I just hate when someone corrects me. Especially when we're in front of other people that I care about the opinions of. It's because when someone corrects me, I feel like a failure. When it used to happen in school, I'd always go red in the face and want to curl up in a ball. It's nothing against you Spencer." Reid's face lit up.

"That's the first time you've used my first name. And you used it twice!" He had the biggest smile on his face.

"That's all you could focus on?" I chuckle and lean back then forward again.

"Well not actually, but it's a huge thing because we've known each other for years and you've always called me Reid because we've always had this sort of rivalry going on-"

"Shut up and kiss me Reid." I say before placing both my hands on his cheeks and connecting our lips. He kissed me back after quickly processing what I just did.

His hand went to my waist shortly after to pull me closer. His other hand went to my neck and pushed my head closer to his. The kiss was desperate but also freeing.

We eventually pulled away to catch our breath and giggled like school children as we made eye contact.

"I guess the facts are not there." He breathed out a chuckle, his hands staying where he had placed them, not wanting to let go. Of me. Of this moment.

"Guess you don't know everything Spencer." I had a smug smile on my face. He rolled his eyes before he peppers my face with kisses.

"You have always been such an ass Y/L/N." I mock an offended look on my face and place my hand on my heart.

"Such a hurtful thing to say Reid." We both giggle as we lean in for another kiss.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

110 notes · View notes

exeggcute · 7 months

Text

after some trial and error I think I finally have the perfect PS2 setup for the modern gamer. behold:

PS2 (old reliable) + power cable + magicgate memory card for those eight delicious MB of storage

retrotink adapter: a must-have in my case because we don't have any TVs that support analog input. you COULD go scrounge up an old CRT instead of shelling out for an adapter but (1) I have no desire to fistfight a melee player over who gets dibs on the CRT we both spotted on craigslist at exactly the same time (2) I have nowhere to put a CRT and (3) the retrotink is sick. worth every penny imo. this thing has upscaling, lots of settings to mess with (including psuedo-CRT settings to add scanlines and whatnot), and zero lag. there are significantly cheaper adapters out there but I did a shitload of research and nearly all of them have some kind of dealbreaking problem, save for the retrotink, whose only problems are that it isn't cheap and it runs out of stock quickly because they're all made by one guy in his garage.

component/YPbPr cable: the retrotink won't accept the regular AV cable that I've had for two decades (with the red/white/yellow inputs), but apparently AV input kind of sucks so component is the way to go for quality anyway.

wingman PS2: this thing is SO fucking cool dude. if you only pick up a single item on this list let it be the wingman. being able to play PS2 games not just wirelessly but on a modern controller (dualsense ftw) feels amaaaaazing. rumble works great, pairing is easy, no lag as far as I've noticed. the only downside is that modern controllers don't have the same pressure-sensitive buttons that the PS2's dualshock did, which means the handful of games that utilize that feature won't be a 1:1 experience.

so now your wallet just took a hit on all these peripherals—but not to worry, because we're also in the golden age of PS2 piracy:

if you have a stack of compatible DVD-Rs and a disc reader for your PC, you can use freedvdboot ESR patcher to patch an .iso of almost any PS2 game, burn that patched .iso to a disc, and then run the game on unmodified(!!!) PS2 hardware. there's a handful of caveats though:

(1) not all PS2s can take advantage of the exploit; it depends on the version of your console's DVD player. atm I think all slim models are compatible, and some fat models are compatible, but people are working to crack the last few holdouts so don't lose hope if yours isn't supported yet.

(2) technically not all games are compatible either, but more games seem to work than not. games that do work are essentially indistinguishable from a legit copy, though—some of the other game piracy methods I looked into (like MC2SIO) have a lot of performance issues that freedvdboot-patched games don't seem to suffer from at all.

(3) not all DVDs are equal; someone on reddit compiled a list of DVDs that worked/didn't work with freedvdboot-patched games. (they aren't on this list, but I used Verbatim DVD-Rs and they worked fine.)

I have yet to find any good text-based guides about using the patcher, but this guy's video tutorial explains everything well. howeverrrr you can skip all the parts about "creating backups" of your "original game discs" and just use the .iso you downloaded off of Vimm's Lair lol.

bam. not quite free since you have to buy discs, but just about. and a 50-pack of DVDs was still cheaper than any of the used copies of ape escape 3 that I could find on ebay

#PS2 #playstation 2

161 notes · View notes

mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 month

Text

Closed Position: Deconstructing Dieter Bravo

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist I did a Deconstructing Dieter Bravo series for Destiny & Deliverance, so I thought it might be fun to continue that tradition with Closed Position since this Dieter does have some interesting things going on that we can delve deeper into.

I had several people comment/dm me about two things after the first chapter that I think would be fun to discuss further. Those were of course, Dieter’s plant hobby and the fluffy menace hanging around his house.

To most, these two things may seem very random and unrelated. However, they really aren’t. They do serve a bigger purpose to the story…because of course they do. When do I ever not have deeper meaning behind something, right? 😏

Plant Dad Dieter

First, I have included some more Dieter aesthetic pictures above that I had saved. It's a whole ✨vibe✨. Second, I must thank @readingiskeepingmegoing for coming up with the new #PlantDadDieter hashtag… because it’s so on point. I’m totally going with it! 💜

On to the good stuff...what have we learned about Dieter after the first installment? I think we can safely identify three things: he spends a lot of time alone, he feels misunderstood, and he doesn’t appear to have any deep or meaningful relationships. This will be a theme that comes up a lot with him, especially starting in Week 2 when we open with him having a chat with his therapist.

How does this relate to plants, you ask? Let’s start with Dieter’s history…the man has never had a real relationship. He’s never connected with anyone, whether that be friend or significant other. He was a party boy that indulged in the physical pleasures of life while avoiding any real intimacy. Most of his relationships were based on sex and favors. We will worry about why he is this way later, but for now, just know that’s where he's at emotionally.

Dieter has never really had a bond with anyone or anything. Now that he is sober and realizing how alone he is, he’s seeking that connection any way he can and doesn’t even really realize it (yet).

Sure, being a plantsman does have perks as it is relaxing and can have a positive impact on one’s mental health. However, it’s causing Dieter to learn how to care about something - how to be selfless and nurturing with his time. He has to put in a lot of effort to keep everything alive and healthy and he quickly realizes that putting in that time and energy makes him happy. Also, the plants don't judge him or his past.

Now, for some fun stuff because some of you asked…

Does Dieter talk to his plants? He 100% talks to the plants. He doesn’t know if it actually does anything, but he figures it can’t hurt to try. It also helps him feel less alone as he does see them as living things. They do breathe, eat, and drink after all.

Does Dieter name his plants? I’m inclined to say that he names his favorites. All the others just have random nicknames that change based on their appearance. Like...the "thirsty dramatic bitch" that gets weepy and needs to be watered and turned in the sunlight daily.

Dieter’s Furry Squatter

And let the collective aww's be heard! 🤭

So, I pulled a few pics from Pinterest of what I envision Dieter's furry little visitor looks like. I see it as an adorably fluffy young Maine Coon kitty.

👉 Fun Fact: "The name 'Maine Coon' was adopted after the state of the breed's origin, Maine, and after the early belief that the cat was in fact the result of crossing between domestic breeds and raccoons." (from VioVet)

Funny story, I did not know that fact before choosing this breed. It looks like it was mean-to-be for our loveable trash panda. 😂

Now, I am sure you're asking; how does the cat relate to the plants? The cat serves the same purpose when we think about Dieter's relationships...or lack thereof.

Again, Dieter is craving companionship. He is still reluctant, but this little nugget will eventually become a loving companion for him. It's another avenue for him to create an emotional connection with something. He will learn how to care for the kitty and build a bond. Though the little menace can be a bit sassy, like the plants, it also doesn't judge Dieter by his past. What do you think Dieter should name it? I'm taking suggestions in the comments. 😉

In an odd way, the plants and cat do help Dieter grow as a person. It's baby steps in his personal growth journey. Honestly, as Katrina gets to know Dieter on a more personal level, these are two things that she absolutely loves about him, mostly because it's two things that are unexpected and show what a sweetheart he really is. She sees the good in him even if he can't see it himself.

That's it for your little extra bit of insight...until next time.

💜Mysty

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, alcohol abuse, and drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Closed Position Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap

*If your blog name is marked out, it would not let me tag you. You will need to change your visibility settings for that to work going forward.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #plant dad dieter #closed position extra #closed position series

61 notes · View notes

danses-with-dogmeat · 1 year

Note

I love love love how you write! The little details you add into your reacts are amazing <3 I was hoping to ask if you haven't done so yet, what would the romanced companions say in their own version of the "Hi Honey" holo tape? It could be them making their own tape for any reason or to replace the one the SoSu's spouse made becuase it was destroyed or buried with them, it doesnt matter, just thought that would help the angst/comfort factor 😅 have a good day, love <3

Fallout 4 Companions' Versions of the "Hi, Honey" Tape

Okay, I adore this <3

It's a.... bit more angsty than I meant it to be, but it's all happy and fluffy underneath, so, you know... kinda my forte 😅 And also some of them are... more romanced than others, as you'll see, so just a heads up on that. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Also, I tried kind of a different format for this one, almost like you're reading the subtitles/script for the holotape, so hopefully the unique format makes this one interesting 😁

Oh, and just a quick TW for mention of suicidal thoughts/actions!

Cait:

"Oi, ya fucking-- Does this damn thing even work?"

*exasperated noise*

"Alright. There, I think that's done it."

*muffled adjusting*

"Okay."

*sigh*

"Hey. Sole... I uh, I don't really know how to tell ya everything I'd like to... Before I go through with this, you know. I'm not sure what's goin te happen, but I wanted you to know one thing before I go inte that machine, since... I don't know, I might not come back out as meself. Or, or even at all."

*deep breath*

"I just, in case somethin' happens, I want ya te know..."

(pause)

"I love ya."

*short chuckle*

"I know, sounds strange comin' from me, I'm sure, but... It's the truth. I do, and I have, for a bit, but... I'm not really sure why it took me this long te tell ya. Maybe cuz I was scared. Scared that I'd scare ya away."

*Huff of breath*

"Me? Scared? I know how it sounds, trust me, but it's true. I was... worried about losin' ya. Cuz, truth is, Sole, yer the first person who actually seems to give a damn what happens te me. You know this, I've told ya, I know, but even me own damn parents didn't give a shite about me. An' the ghoul, well, he only ever considered what I could do for him. Knew how to keep me hooked, to keep makin' him money. But you... I had my doubts, I'll be the first to admit, but... You've looked out fer me better than anyone, and you did from the start, with nothin' to gain by doin' so."

(pause)

"I don't know why ye did it. Almost scared me off, the thought of someone bein kind te me fer no reason at all. Thought you were gonna end up worse than all the rest, because there was no way you were just bein' that nice with nothin' te gain from it. But I was wrong. And I've never been so damn glad te be wrong in me whole life."

(pause)

*Deep breath*

"An' I want ye t'know one more thing... I knew about this machine. I knew about it a bit ago. I could've gone with someone else, could've gone on me own, even. Maybe I wouldn't have made it out alive, but it didn't really matter te me at the time. And neither did gettin' clean. I told you I'd been trying to get sober for awhile, but nothin' was workin', and that wasn't a lie, but... Before you, I didn't really want te get clean. There was just..."

(pause)

"There was no point to it. Get clean fer what? I didn't want to feel anythin'. Well, anythin' but the rush of psycho. Couldn't feel anything if I was off it, I was so damn numb to the whole world... But you... you changed that. Somewhere along the way, when I was with you, I felt... somethin' else. I want te feel that again, but I want te feel it all. No psycho, no nothin'. Just you. And I'm hopin' you feel the same, but if you don't... It doesn't matter too much. I just... I wanted you te know."

(pause)

*huff of air*

"So there. I said what I meant to. You heard it. An' whether or not ye feel the same, I... I just hope it means somethin' to ya."

*click*

Curie:

"My love! Look at what I 'ave found! Or... Listen to it, rather."

*giggling*

"But isn't zhis wonderful? I can now tell you 'ow much I love you! Zhough, I do suppose I say it quite often... Still, what better day zhan zhis? I know zhere are many who no longer observe zhis holiday, but it is our first one together and I wanted to do something special. I thought of many possible zhings to gift you, since I feel as zhough I simply could not give you enough!"

*laughter*

"But zhen... I settled on zhis idea... I want you to listen to zhis recording, any time you are not feeling at your best, when I am not around to help you, or whenever else you feel like it, even when I am in zhe room next to you, you will have zhis at your disposal."

"I just want you to know 'ow much I care for you. You are zhe one who saved me, who made me not feel so alone in zhis new world, who helped me not to be afraid. I was afraid, mon amour, you remember. I was afraid to go out on my own, so you stayed close to my side, I was afraid I could never follow my dreams, zhat I could not become who I am today, afraid I would never be able to be with you, to feel all zhat I do when you are near and beside me. I would not be myself without you, I would still be in zhat 'orrible vault, would still be afraid and alone..."

(pause)

"But I am not, and it is thanks to you. You are... zhe most beautiful person I have ever come into contact with. The kindest, the most loving, zhe gentlest, and you are zhe one I love, when I did not know I was capable of such feeling! You made it so, my lovely Sole, and I could not be more grateful to share all zhese new-- all zhese so very human experiences with you. I love you, vers la lune et retour."

*giggles*

"It is amazing zhat I can say such things and mean zhem! I had heard about love, had read about it, and knew of zhe chemicals and such, but to feel it, to say zhese things, to know why I'm saying zhem, who is making me feel zhem, it is a wonderful feeling, mon cheri/e."

(pause)

"Oh!"

*shuffling paper noises*

"And I almost forgot! Comme c'est drôle de moi... I have a poem to read to you! It is one I read from a novel long ago, I had to dig to find it, to make sure it was correct. I did not understand it zhen, not as much as I do now, but now, it is all zhe more beautiful."

*clears throat*

"Je dédie à tes pleurs, à ton sourire,

Mes plus douces pensées,

Celle que je te dis, celles aussi

Qui demeurent imprécisées

Et trop profondes pour les dire"

"I can translate as well! Do not worry! It just sounds so belle en François. What it means is, zhat I dedicate my sweetest thoughts to both your tears and your smiles, all of my thoughts, zhe ones zhat I say to you, and zhe ones I 'ave no words for, zhat are too imprecise. Even zhose thoughts zhat are so deep zhat you cannot say zhem aloud, even zhose go to you, mon amour. I dedicate so much to you, because you 'ave given me so very much since zhe day you and I met. It does seem rather small in comparison, just zhis little poem, after all you 'ave done, but it is zhe truth. I love you so much, my Sole. 'Appy Valentines day."

"Love, Curie."

Danse:

*clears throat*

"I know I'm not very good at these sort of talks in person, and... I'm honestly not sure it'll be any better through this tape. But I feel like I have to try."

"I'm... Well, let me just preface this by saying that I'm sorry for what happened today. You weren't meant to... Well, let's just say that I should've thrown that tape recording away a long time ago. That same day that I recorded it, even. And if it's any consolation, I never paid the contents of it any further mind after our talk at the Bunker. When I think of it now, I..."

*deep sigh*

"Knowing what I do now, what was to come... I can't believe I would've just... Just ended it."

(pause)

"Everything was so jumbled then. After I found out what I was, I felt so lost. My existence, without the Brotherhood, it felt so... purposeless. The words on that tape... they just helped me get everything off my mind. Helped me feel like there was a way out of all that uncertainty, as rash as it may seem in hindsight."

"Then you appeared below the surface. Even with all my defenses... I don't even know why I put them up, if I was just planning to...

*sigh*

"It's not a day I like to remember."

"You are what made it bearable. Not just that day, not just my... whole self discovery, but everything. Without you, I wouldn't have only been dead, but I would have been lost. Everything I truly believe in, all that I've worked for... I felt like less than nothing when it was all stripped away. Along with my identity. My personhood. But these past couple years... you've built me up again. You've made me into something-- someone I can be proud of. Helped me make the difference I thought could only be achieved through the Brotherhood, and I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you for all that you've given me."

"My life, my belief in myself, the courage to move on when I felt I had nothing, that I was nothing... But I was wrong. I was always wrong. I never had nothing, not even on my darkest days, when I wished beyond reason that I could crawl out of my own synthetic skin. Even on those days, I still had you."

"The day that you confessed your feelings to me was the first day that I began to question a few of the core beliefs of the Brotherhood. With the overwhelming strength and certainty of my own feelings for you, I wondered how the Brotherhood could ever consider me-- my kind, to be soulless abominations. Every day my feelings of fondness for you grow stronger, and every day I stray away from the belief that I'm nothing but a mere machine. I never could've done that without you."

"Ever since the day I met you, I've felt like... somehow, our fates have been tied to one another. Like I was always meant to know you. And it might be strange, to phrase it that way, to think that some... higher power pulled the strings in such a way to ensure our meeting, our friendship, o-our love, but if it hadn't turned out that way... that tape I made would be in the Brotherhood archives, and I would be..."

*exhale*

"I just hope that my presence in your life has yielded even a fraction of the happiness, security and support that you provide me with. If so, it'll all have been worth it."

"I hope what I said on this tape doesn't make you uncomfortable, I-I know the subject matter is quite upsetting, but if I can offer further consolation, the tape in question no longer exists. I erased it, in favor of this message. I thought it would be... symbolic. The way our love for one another, and my dedication to you has erased the negative feelings I had for myself, that almost drove me to complete ruin. I apologize again for what you heard on that tape, and it pains me to know you felt guilt for not being able to do more after my... self discovery. The truth is, Sole, you were the only thing standing between me and the ending that that tape promised for my life, and I could never find a way to thank you for all that you've done for me."

"I love you, Sole. More than I thought could ever be possible, even before finding out that I was a synth."

(pause)

*clears throat*

"Anyway, that was what I felt I had to say. I know it was long winded, and I... well, I never know quite how to end these conversations, but I suppose it's worth saying it again. Thank you, Sole. For giving me my life back. The rest of it belongs to you."

Deacon:

"Csssshhhhk this is your captain speaking, yeah, we're gonna be traveling at around fifty eight thousand feet in a minute here, so just wanted to tell you to get comfortable, drop those trays, get out those peanuts, oxygen masks, space suits, and--"

*muffled laughter*

"No, but anyway... Hey Sole, it's ah, it's me. You're favorite crimefighting deathbunny, and partner in all things inappropriate. I... just wanted to make this... I know we don't have the same type of job security or workers' compensation from before the big booms, so just y'know, like an insurance policy, especially now that there's all this added paperwork with our little developing relationship status, it just felt important, y'know? Another record to dust off one day. And... I wanted to be sure you could always have a way to hear my lovely voice, my bad jokes, my flawless singing, you know, just in case... I know how much you'd miss it."

*sighs*

"Look, I... I know it hasn't always been easy, everything you've been through, to add all my problems to the pile. The trust issues, the compulsive lying, those pesky little intimacy problems that make things extra fun, and... I could go on, but I'm afraid the tape would run out of space."

"I guess, what I'm trying to say is... Thanks. Sole. You're everything I needed and never deserved or expected. I had this plan, this idea of what the rest of my life would be like, and you just--"

*breaks into laughter*

"You just waltzed right into those catacombs and blew those ideas to smithereens. Shot 'em down with your charm and your selflessness and good looks, and man... I didn't stand a chance. I can't believe you chose me. You coulda had anybody. Even Carrington, if you kept at it, but you chose to love me, even with how... difficult it must've been-- must be..."

"I still don't know why you did it, but I've never been more grateful in my life. You're my partner in crime, my fellow deathbunny, my bestie, and now you're my husband/wife?! ... It's crazy. Crazy awesome, and I... I never thought I'd tread that kind of path again, not with anyone, and I wouldn't have... if it weren't for you."

"Ahh, you. You're just... The best, and I love you. I know I don't say it enough, and when I do, I don't sound serious. But no matter how uncomfy it makes me feel to say it aloud, it's true. I love you, Sole."

(pause)

"But alright, bestie, I've gotta go. I'm about to have the best sleepover of my life, with this awesome person, I'm sure you know them, and I'm really feeling like I'm gonna get lucky. You can't see it, but I just winked at you. Anyways, wish me luck, and I'll... I'll see you in the field."

"Deathbunny out."

Gage:

“Hiya there boss… It’s…”

*under his breath* “I hope this damn thing is even recording.”

*snorts*

“But, it’s me. Jus’ wanted to say some stuff…"

*sighs*

“Look, it’s tough for me, I’m sure you know it more than most, but, it’s tough for me to reach out like this. I never… Well, you know this too Sole, but, I never done this sorta thing before. With the relationship and the… I don’t know, man, the arguments. Before, well, fights like this usually meant the end of things, but you said that ain’t how it’s supposed to be. We’re supposed to work through this shit, somehow, and so I… I guess I figured I’d start with this.”

*deep breath*

“I’m sorry. Sole. There, okay? I’m sorry for bein’ an asshole, for not givin’ you enough credit, not remembering that yer new to this whole raider thing, this whole Overboss thing. And that… well, you’ve probably never been with someone like me before. I sure as hell’ve never been with somebody like you, but… What can I say? It’s hard to find folks like you out here anyhow. You’re your own breed, boss. And that’s far from a bad thing. Jus’... Well, you know me. If you’re your own breed, I’m a goddamn mutt. I’m rough around the edges, not used to tryin’ to make things work. I’ve solved a hell of a lot more problems with my knife than I have with my words, but… I wanna… Well, I wanna make things work this time ‘round, boss… Sole… I mean, you know how I feel about ya, and I… I ain’t never had anything like this, and I just don’t know how I got along so long without you, cuz… Well, Sole, cuz you just make everything better.”

(pause)

“I mean… my life’s not worth a whole lot, that ain’t no mystery or nothin’, but when yer in it… It feels like somethin’ worth having. Not like the rest of my life, oh… stumblin’ around looking for scraps of quick fixes that could make me forget how little my life really means, but… having something worth holding onto, worth bein’ around for… that’s what it’s like with you.”

*dry chuckle*

“And to think, I was stupid enough to think that one little argument was worth losing all this over. Worth losing the only thing in my life that really makes it worthwhile. Cuz that’s what you are, baby. That’s what you are to me. Even though I don’t say it a whole lot… It don’t mean that I… That I don’t mean it, you know?”

*sigh*

“I can’t be the easiest to get along with, I’m sure. I’m so damn hard-headed most of the time, and I always act like I know what I’m talking about, which… Well, you know that usually ain’t the truth.”

*chuckles*

“But somehow you got the patience for all this. All my shit. And… I may not always be the sharpest knife in the drawer, or whatever the saying is, but I know what I got with you. I know what you’re worth, baby, and it’s more than I got, and I know you bein’ with me at all is a charity, but… Well dammit, I hope I got some worth to you too, cuz I just… I need you now, Sole. I wanna be worth the headache and the patience, and I wanna work through the fights and learn how to make it up to you. I never had this before… I never felt this way about no one. I don’t wanna lose it. I can’t… lose you. Things jus’, well, they just wouldn’t be the same…”

*deep sigh*

“I know I’m going ‘round in circles a bit here, but you know apologies ain’t really my strong suit. An’ neither is all this mushy stuff, but I’m trying all right? I’m trying for you. And I’m gonna keep on doing that until you tell me you can’t stand it no more. It’s just the kinda reckless, hard-headed, stubborn fool I am, Sole. Gonna keep telling you how you changed it all for me, how you’re so damn incredible it makes my chest hurt, how I… Well dammit. Guess I’ve gotta say it now, huh? Look, there. You did it boss, you got it out of me. Damn near slipped out before I could even catch it too. Nasty little words, but… It’s never been truer. I love you Sole.”

(pause)

*comical sigh*

“And while we’re at it, might as well say I’m sorry again, too. There. You got both outta me. Got it all. There’s nothing left for you to take, baby, all my cards just out on the table like that and I forgot how to fucking bluff.”

*soft chuckle*

“Nah, but… I mean it, Sole. I ain’t nothin’ without you. Next time we fight, just pull this shit outta your pocket and I’ll shut right up, I promise. And… If I’m ever not sayin’ all that… All that I should, if I’m being an ass like I do sometimes, just listen to this while I’m off sulkin’ somewhere. Cuz it’s true. It’s all true, and no amount of me bein’ pissy or stubborn is gonna change that... Is gonna change the fact that… Well, dammit, I do, I love you, Sole.”

(pause)

“Greedy bastard, you’ve gotten it outta me twice now, so you should be all caught up for awhile… Just don’t use it against me too often, okay? Don’t abuse this shit, or you definitely ain’t gonna hear it as much, I’ll tell ya that.”

*chuckles*

“Alright, don’t know when this thing is gonna run outta tape, but it’s bound to be close. I’ll, ah, I’ll see ya soon, baby.”

*click*

Hancock:

"Heya, Sunshine. It's, ah, it's me. I know it hasn't been all that long since we've seen each other, and I know you're busy. Hard being the hero all the time, hard being the best person there is in the Commonwealth, I get it. But I wanted to tell ya, that... I miss you. I miss you when we're not together, from the moment I see you leave through the Goodneighbor gate, I'm already turning to tell you how much I'm gonna miss you, before I realize that you're gone. That's how bad it is, sweetheart, I-I talk to you even when you're not here."

*chuckles*

"Maybe it's cuz I'm a little nuts, or something, I don't know. Either way though, when I'm alone like this, jus'... thinking about you, I wish I had a way to hear that pretty voice o' yours. So, I thought we could make somethin' like this. Just a reminder, that I'm thinkin' about ya, I'm wishin' you were here, even though I know it's important that you're away."

*sighs*

"Still doesn't change that I want you back here by my side. Or to be out there with you. Kickin' ass. Making a difference. Watchin' you in action, if you know what I mean, heh. Yeah."

(pause)

"Damn this hurts. I get it. I do. I know you have to be out there. I know I can't go everywhere with you all the time, an' I don't mean to make you feel bad, baby, not at all. Jus' want you to know. Know how much it affects me when you're not here."

*sniffles*

*forced chuckle*

"Fahrenheit even notices. Says I'm no fun when you're not around anymore. She's had to drag me outta bed a few times this week... Yeah."

*shaky breath*

"Sorry 'bout this, Sunshine. Sorry if it doesn't make much sense. Brain's kinda foggy right now. I don't mean to make ya feel bad, you know? Jus'... just wanted you to know."

(pause)

"Shit, already said that, huh? Damn, it's just, it's true. I miss you, I love you, baby, and I want you with me all the time."

*muffled* "Oh Jesus. What are you doing?"

"Nothin,' Fare, go on."

*Fahrenheit* "Who are you talking to?"

"Sole. Now go on. Not done yet."

*Fahrenheit* "Sole? Hancock, Sole's not--"

"I know. Leaving a message for 'em. When they are here."

*sigh*

*door closing*

"Jesus. See? Goin' crazy over here, with her hoverin' over me. Need you, baby."

"Now... what was I sayin'?"

*laughter*

"Sorry it's so all over the place. This is what you do to me."

*a breath*

"There's just one thing I'm gonna ask from you, baby. You can go, I know you've gotta sometimes, just... come back. Alright, Sunshine? Come back to me. Do what you gotta do, but just know, now, that I've got you. You're part of the package. The coat, the hat, my whole look, the talk, my title, everything that makes me, me, now you're in that. I can't--"

*sniffles*

"I can't be without ya. Not for good, ya hear? So all I gotta know, is that you're gonna come back to me. Just... Try and think about that when you're out there on your own. Don't take the risk if you don't have to. You're good, baby. The most selfless person I ever met, and I love that about you, but... don't make the sacrifice, okay? I know I'm bein' selfish, but I ain't a saint like you, so I'd say it's pretty on-brand."

*soft chuckle*

"Just don't... Jus' come back to me. That's all I'm saying. It's all I need, okay, baby? Just need you..."

*sigh*

"Think I should probably let you go now, huh? So you can get back to bein' a badass, an' all that. Just one more thing though, before you set this tape aside... I love you, Sole. Just need you to know that, if you haven't listened to anything else on this tape, just know that. I love you, and... I'll see you soon."

MacCready:

"Geeze I hope this thing works..."

*fiddling noises*

"How do you even know if it's recording? Is that...? Hmm."

(pause)

"Okay. Well, here goes nothing."

*Clears throat*

"Hey, Sole. I, ah, I hope this works, because I've got a few things I wanted to... um, say. Wow, geeze, really off to a good start here, huh? I just hope this dang thing is even recording."

*chuckle*

"But if it is... Well, I just wanted to say... thanks."

*soft sigh*

"Truth is, I wouldn't even be doing this if it weren't for you. Maybe one day, yeah, it was always the plan to go back to Duncan, to be with him, but... I never thought I'd be bringing him back to a family. It was... one of the reasons I think I was putting it off. I mean, what do I have to offer? As a dad I-I'm doing my best, but... Is it enough? Will he be lonely with just me? Can I look after him as well as I want to, as well as he deserves? Is he going to be happy, with just me? And maybe he was, and I worried for nothing, but... With you, the decision was so much easier. And..."

*deep breath*

"Well, without your help, I... I might not even have been able to ask those questions. Duncan might not have... You know."

(pause)

"But you helped me. Even when you barely even knew me."

*laughter*

"I didn't think there was anyone like you out there, who would just help me, and not expect anything in return, I didn't think I'd ever find someone out there worthwhile. I mean, after the Gunners, well, they made it hard to see the good in the world, and even when I met you, I know I was... Well, I was a bit of an ass, huh?"

*chuckles*

"But that didn't seem to phase you. No... I don't think anything I could've done would have scared you away for good, once you saw how badly I needed you."

"And that's why I love you so much, Sole. You put other people before you, and you don't expect a damn thing in return, and it's so... Gosh, it's so weird that you do that, I've never met anyone like that, and I've never met anyone like you, and I didn't think, honestly... I never thought I'd be able to fall for someone again, after everything, but... I never saw you coming. And I mean... I'm a sniper. So I've got good eyes, you know."

*breaks into laughter*

"Sorry for that one. Sort of. But I can see that face, without you even being here, I can see that amused but... disappointed look you give me when I make those bad jokes. Those 'dad jokes' as you call them."

*more chuckling*

"I love you so much, baby. I didn't think I'd ever be able to say those words again. To say those words and-and mean them, but I can. And... I know you felt the same way, about loving again, after everything you've lost, but... I'm glad you found me. In that dingy old underground bar, where I almost got my butt whooped by those Gunner clowns, where I was spending all my hard-earned caps trying to drown out my problems... You pulled me out of that, and probably saved my life... No, you did save it, cuz without you, if I'd lost Duncan too, I just... Yeah, I wouldn't have been able to go on much longer if I didn't have him. If I didn't have you."

*sniffs*

"But he's going to be..."

*laughs*

"Just so excited to meet you, I mean, I've told you about him, he's just so adventurous and playful, and even when he couldn't talk at all, he loved meeting new people, and he's- god, he's gonna love you. And I'm gonna have my work cut out for me, cuz, I mean... you think I'm cute? Just wait, I mean, I'm never gonna see you again, you're just gonna want to run off with him and leave me behind, I mean-- his eyes, Sole, they're so blue, and his little cheeks, and gosh, there's nothing I love more than him... than you, too, and the thought of you two together? Heck, I don't know what I'm gonna do with myself, I'm not going to be able to handle it all. To handle... for the first time in so long, being actually... happy. Being part of a family again..."

*exhale*

"You know... I think you know that it... It makes me nervous. To be so happy. To have so much to lose, but... I know that you know what that's like. And I just- I just can't wait for us all to be a part of it. No matter how scary it is, or how strange it'll feel to have it again, to have a family, but have it be different, but... I'm so glad it's with you. And I just... I can't wait to see you, baby. Can't wait for you to see him."

*a breath*

"Just promise me... promise me you won't... leave."

*sniffs*

"...That you won't run off with Duncan and leave me behind. I promise, there's enough of him for both of us i-if we ration, you know?"

*teary laughter*

"We can share him, just... Just stay safe, for me, Sole, okay? I don't want-- I can't lose... I just... can't do this alone."

*deep breath*

"But, ah, anyway, I'll see you soon, okay Sole? I'll see you when I-- when we get back. I love you, and the next time we're together... we'll be a proper family."

Nick:

"Hey there, Sole. It's ah, it's your Nick here. Just wanted to make somethin' for ya, to help get you through these next few... days, maybe. I know this isn't gonna be easy, but I want you to know, I'm proud of you. You did it. You made it where no one thought you ever could, and hopefully, it pays off."

*low sigh*

"God, I hope it does. If there's anyone out there who deserves it, it's you. But we both know it doesn't always work that way..."

*exhale*

"No matter what happens in there though, I'm here for you. Always, alright? I don't mean that lightly, Sole. I've helped you come this far... even when it really didn't seem like you needed my help."

*chuckle*

"I mean it was you who saved me first, right?"

*more laughter*

*small sigh*

"Anyway, guess what I'm really saying here, Sole, is that... I want it to go right. I want you to find your boy, I want you, more than anything, to be happy. You've been through so much, more than anyone should have to go through, and I want you to be able to rest, to have the family you wanted, that you deserve, or, part of that family, at least. You're one of the best damn people I've met in all my years, and no matter how this all goes, I'll be by your side to help you face it."

(pause)

"You know... I'm not really sure why you picked me, if I'm honest, Sole. I'm just a rusty old synth, but... I'm a rusty old synth who's... in love with you. Who wants, more than most anything, for you to just be happy. And if I can have some part in making that happen, well, then I guess I shouldn't really question it, huh? But who am I kidding? I'm a detective, it's in my nature to question unlikely things."

*small chuckle*

"Well, guess I've rambled on here quite a bit, but I wanted you to have something. For when you're in there, so you remember that you're not alone. You've got good friends out here, so many people who care about you, who are rootin' for ya. Me, most of all. No matter what happens, we're all proud of how far you've come. No one even thought this would be possible, but since the day I met you, I've been realizing that the word 'impossible' really isn't in your vocabulary, huh? Who would've thought some pre-war vaulty would get as far as you did? Well, you did, and you really showed anyone who thought differently. It's one of the, oh, couple dozen or so things I love about you, darling. You always show those that need showing, always right the wrongs around you, even when some would argue it ain't your business. But you show those folks too, don't ya?"

*chuckles*

"You're just a whole lotta something, there, Sole. I never met anyone like ya, and there's no one else I could think of who could get through everything you've survived. You'll get through this too, I know it. And... I don't know, maybe I'm just losin' a few screws or something, but I believe you're gonna find your boy in there... But no matter what happens in the Institute, just know you got people out here waitin' for ya. Wishin' ya the best. Wishin' for ya to make it back home to us. We all love ya, Sole. And me? I love ya most of all."

"Yours, Nick."

Piper:

"Come on, come onnnn."

*Nat speaking indiscernably*

"That did it? You think?"

*Nat* "Yes."

"Oh. Okay. Geesh, this is why I just wanted to write a letter or something, but Nat said I should... cuz of the tape that you lost, and what it meant to you, and hearing my voice and-- Geeze, already rambling. So unlike me, huh?"

*laughter*

"Uh, anyways, um... Hey. Blue."

*more laughter*

"Who let me do this? This is awful. I wanna just talk straight to you, you know? See that cute little face of yours, that embarrassed smile with the way your eyes crinkle. The face you're probably making right now. Eh? Did I getcha? Are you making that face? Bet you are."

*giggling*

"I guess I know you pretty well by now, huh? Four years, Blue. Four! I don't know how I've put up with you all that time, but also, I... I don't really know what I would've done without you. That day we met... I think back on it all the time. How perfect everything had to be for us to meet like that, to get that great first impression. It always makes me laugh, the way we still give Danny a hard time about it, blaming him whenever we have those silly little arguments, just so we can't blame each other. I wonder if other couples do that? If they have a sort of scapegoat for their silly little..."

(pause)

"Okay, yeah, getting off topic. The reason I made this, well, this tape recording, that I wanted to be a note, that I probably could've just said straight to your face, was so I could just say... thanks. I know I tell you a lot how much you mean to me, but, I also think you always need to hear it. You've been through so much, lived through multiple lifetimes... you really were-- and are, the story of the century, Blue. You're incredible, and strong, and goofy, and absolutely adorable, if I do say so myself."

*giggles*

"Ahem, anyways, um... Where was I?... Oh! Yeah, you're..."

*quick breath*

"You're a great leader, and you could do anything you set your mind to, I mean really, once you've lived over two hundred years, learned how to fight giant monster lizards, how to cure super mutants, travel through someone's brain, and even teleport, I think the sky is hardly the limit."

*more soft laughter*

"Yeah... I knew I'd get just a little off topic, but when it all comes down to it, there's really only one thing you need to know, Blue."

"I love you. And I'm so grateful to have you in my life and as my partner in everything, and though these past few years have been like... the best of my life, I think the future holds a lot for us. Keep being strong, keep being you, and I'll be right here, cheering you on, loving you. Like I have from the start."

(pause)

"Oh, and Nat'll be here too. Rolling her eyes. Scrunching her face when we kiss in front of her and pretending to barf, but... she'll be loving you too. Won't you, sis?"

*Noncommittal noise*

"See? She agrees. Love ya, Blue. See you soon."

(pause)

*whispered* "Which one do I press to stop it? Which one? Oh. Oh, okay, I see--"

*click*

Preston:

"Sole? Hey. It's Preston."

*light chuckle*

"But you could probably guess that, huh? Yeah, well, I just wanted to say a few things. So you have them, so we do, for later, and everything... I'm just... Where to even start with you?"

*a breath*

"You're just... so amazing. You have been, since the day I met you, and every day since. You've taken everything the Commonwealth throws at you, and you've turned it into something beautiful. Something we can help grow, help to make this world a better place. And... you've given me hope."

*light laughter*

"It sounds so simplified when I put it like that, but it's not."

*soft sigh*

"I had no hope, before I met you. It was gone, and I just felt... hollow, but now I see all of the amazing possibilities for the world, for you and me, and the Minutemen. I never would've made it this far without you, and what we're doing now? This big adventure we're taking together? I know... I know you've been there before. That you... had a family before, and I know the way it turned out, and I can't imagine how difficult it is to look past that, and to try again. But... I want you to know I'm here for you. I always will be, just like you were there for me, when I needed you most."

"I want this for us, and you're... God, Sole, you're just so strong to want this too, so brave, and selfless, and-- and you just see the possibilities in life and you go for them, and I love that about you."

"Even just saying all this, it has me smiling from ear to ear. Just thinking about you does that to me, babe. I couldn't tell you the last time I smiled like this before I met you. I don't think I even could, to tell you the truth, but now... I mean, my cheeks hurt. Just thinking about seeing you after this mission, thinking about our talk, about us... settling down... Yeah, it's gonna be tough. Like you said, it's hard to get me to stay in one place, but you like to wander a whole lot too, you know."

*laughing*

"But I don't think I've been more ready, more excited for anything in my life. I love you so much, I almost can't believe it sometimes, but then I see you, and I... Well, I can believe it, because you're just that good. That perfect, that kind and loving, and selfless, and I just can't believe that out of all the other people in this world, I was lucky enough to meet you, and somehow, you wanted to be with me too."

(pause)

"I think I might've told you this already. At least once, but just in case, I'm gonna tell you again... Sole. I loved you from the moment I saw you. I... I couldn't believe it."

*laughter*

"I thought it was crazy, thought I lost my mind or something, but it was true. As soon as you came into my life, I was ready to pledge mine to you. I-I was in love. And as unbelievable as it seemed at the time, so soon after meeting you, that's never changed. And I'm betting that it never will."

"I love you, Sole. So much, and I can't wait to see you back here, and I can't wait to make that pledge all over again, can't wait to start our family, and... And god, I'm so excited to see you, I can't even sit still, I just--"

*muffled voice*

"What? Now?"

*sound of confirmation*

"Already? But I thought--"

*Annoyed sound getting further away*

"No, hold on, I'm coming!"

"Sturges says you're here."

"You're... you're home. You're home early..."

*disbelieving laughter*

"I'm gonna go and see you. Now. Right now, I've gotta--"

*muffled rustling noise*

"I'm gonna go. Sort of. I love you Sole, see you soon!"

X6-88:

"Sole... Ma'am/Sir. This is X6-88. I..."

*small sigh*

"I would like to extend my condolences to you. Your son... I wish you could have known him as I did. As so many of us did, as you never had the chance to. It is unfortunate, but... What I said, before, when I told you that I believe in you... It was not a lie, sir/ma'am. I do believe, fully, that you are meant to take his place, that you will do incredible things for The Institute."

"To be honest, I'm not sure why I felt the urge to record this message for you, but... Perhaps it's because I feel... that you should be able to hear this, to listen to this tape if ever you feel... inadequate, or... alone. You are neither, sir/ma'am, I assure you."

(pause)

"And I also... I know what it's like. To feel that way."

"Perfection is something that's required in every unit that is created to be a courser. It's something hardwired into us, and so is our aptitude for solitude, and yet... Either there is great fault with my programming, or you were enough to bypass all of it altogether. I've never felt less... Well, perhaps not less perfect, but I've never felt... more..."

*quietly*

"Human, than when I'm with you."

"It is not by my own conscious decision, but all of my defenses seem to lower when you are at my side. I've spoken so outwardly with you, I've... laughed, which is something I never knew I was capable of doing. I've come to despise being alone completely. Or... perhaps not alone, but more... without you. It makes my chest feel tight, and my thoughts wander to your safety whenever I'm not by your side. I'm not... I'm not quite sure why I feel so differently about you than I do anyone else I've met, why you elicit these reactions and thoughts, but I do know that they are enough for me to believe you are... exceptional."

*soft exhale*

"There is no one more capable, or better suited to leading us. No one who has had the influence over me that you do. Not Ayo, not Father, not even the... infuriatingly endearing young Shaun."

*short laugh*

"None of them... and yet you, from the beginning, have surprised me. Your prowess in combat, your amusing commentary, your strange empathy and searing wit... It all took me by surprise. Which isn't easy, I'll have you know. I'm a courser after all."

*muted chuckle*

(pause)

"I'm a courser... And yet, you've always treated me like an... an equal. Not a machine, or a weapon, not something to fear or to order around without regard for my own preferences, my own... conscience. It's something I never thought that I would find to be a virtue. Not something that's ever mattered to me, and yet, now... Now anyone who's not you, everyone here who disregards me the way they always have... It tries my patience."

(pause)

"I blame you, for that, sir/ma'am. But also I'm... Thankful to you. I'm... glad I've been able to accompany you in your travels, that I've been able to guide you in your new time in this world, I feel privileged that I've been able to witness your transformation, that I've gotten to know you, after all this time, and I... I want you to know that I'm here for you. Now, as you grieve the loss of your son, and in the future, as you take on your new responsibilities as the leader of The Institute. I will be here, by your side. To protect you, to help you, to amuse you, even, if that's what you require from me, since I often seem to do so without realizing it."

*soft exhale*

"I want the best for you, Sole. I want you to feel safe, I want you to be... happy. It's not something I'm used to... wanting these things for another, but as always, you are the exception. If you need anything from me, if you want anything, I will be here. For you, Sole."

"Sincerely, X6."

571 notes · View notes

luveline · 10 months

Note

Could I request something from the kisses before dinner universe (if you’re taking requests that is!) just es to see the girls trying to do something nice for their parents. Or reader has the girls help her do something nice for Steve since he does so much for them (or vice versa bc mom does so much for them too)

thank you for your request! hope this is okay!! dad!steve x mom!reader, 4.5k

Avery pulls her hat over her ears and grits her teeth, eyes scrunching closed. All the new baby does is cry, cry, and cry.

"She's loud," Bethie says.

"So loud," Avery say.

Seconds after, Dove starts to cry, like a bomb being dropped, or a siren call. She wails and wails. The sounds are endless. Avery's hat won't block them out. She throws it across the room, agitated.

"Stevie," Avery hears you say softly, super tired, "sorry, honey, you don't know where Dove's buppy is?"

"No idea."

Avery looks toward her socked feet at the end of the bed, where Dove's baby bottle lays dirty against the rumpled blankets. She grabs it quickly and slides out of bed, careful not to bash into Bethie where they'd been lying down together. Avery just got a brand new TV in her bedroom for her birthday, which means they can be 'lazy excuses for girls' if her dad is to be believed. Avery knows lazy is a bad word, but Steve says it like it's funny. She always laughs.

"Mom," Avery says, running into Dove's room.

"What, baby?" you ask absentmindedly, a crying Dove on your hip, hands yanking aside her blankets in search.

"I have her buppy."

You turn, smiling, grateful and bubbly as you accept the bottle and ruffle her hair. "My life saver! Thank you. Did your movie finish? I'll come and change the tape."

"Not yet."

"Okay. Tell me when it does, angel, I’ll come and do it straight away." You lean down. "Don't bother daddy, okay? Just come and ask me if you need something."

"Can I have some juice?" she asks.

"Yes, you can have some juice. Can you be patient? I have to make Dove a bottle. Five minutes?" you ask.

Avery nods without a frown. She really wants juice, but she wants Dove to stop crying more. You give Avery's cheek a little squeeze and leave for downstairs, taking the steps very, very slowly. "It's okay, Dovey," you mumble. "It's okay. I know, you're tired, I'm tired too."

Avery doesn't want to see the baby —she loves the baby, you and Steve love the baby, everyone loves the baby— 'cos she's ridiculously loud, and Avery needs her ears to work or she'll never be a famous violinist, and then what will she do with her life? She only just started music classes. But Avery misses her dad desperately, having seen him for a ten minute period when he picked her up from school and not a second longer.

She creeps into the big bedroom. It's a disaster. Steve is sitting in bed with the baby in his arms, rocking her back and forth, hand patting her butt and lower spine steadily. He's shushing with every pat, eyes closed. He looks like he has an unhappy tummy.

"Daddy?" she whispers.

His hand flies to his mouth, finger over his lips in the universal sign for Please, be quiet.

"Are you okay?" she whispers.

He nods vehemently, finger still over his lip. Avery remembers your recent ask too late —Don't bother daddy. Her eyes flare wide and she tiptoes back to her room, flopping onto the sheets next to Bethie with a defeated sigh.

"It's hopeless," she dramatises.

"It's not hopeless, it's just bedtime," Bethie says, much more talkative when it's her and Avery alone. Her pronunciation isn't the best, she's nearly two years younger than Avery, but it's more than passable. "Don't worry, Ave."

Avery drags her face up from the sheets and pouts at her younger sister. "Mom and dad are both busy and we'll never get ants on a log."

Bethie tips her head to one side. "Baby's sleeping now."

"But dad wouldn't speak to me!"

"Heather's sensi‐stive."

Heather isn't the baby's name, officially, but it's the one Bethie likes most. Avery liked Tiffany, but no one else liked Tiffany, which was dumb. Tiffany is the best name ever. Way better than Heather.

"Tiffany," she says pointedly, "isn't sensitive, she's just new." Or, that's what Steve says. "We didn't vacuum enough when she came home so now she's not used to big sounds."

"I'm not used to big sounds," Bethie sighs, curling in on herself. Avery does as she's seen Steve do when Bethie sulks, draping herself over Bethie and hugging her gently. She kisses Bethie's hair. Bethie grumbles, "Avery."

"What?" Avery asks, rolling off of her.

Bethie doesn't answer. Avery sits there thinking, and after a while it's clear you're too busy to bring the juice upstairs.

"Maybe we should try helping."

Bethie lifts her head off of the pillow. She looks much more like you than the rest of her sisters, same hair, same eyes, same pretty smile. Avery looks the spitting image of her dad in comparison, pretty and in a different way. "What can we do?" Bethie asks. "We're only little."

"No, dad says we're only little, but mommy says I'm a big girl, like, all of the time. And so does Grandpa."

"Grandpa says we're too loud."

"Dad says grandpa's… uhm, senior. It means crazy," Avery says.

"So we should be little?" Bethie asks.

"No!" Avery says, annoyed.

She jumps off of the bed and grabs Bethie's hands, encouraging her sister onto her feet. Together, they cross the landing to peer into the master bedroom, where Steve is still swaying the baby in his arms, his rumpled t-shirt stained with spit up and milk. They're practised at sneaking and Steve is too distracted to see them, whispering soft things into the top of the baby's head.

Avery is a bit jealous, but she has a plan.

"I don't think we should do that," Bethie says.

Avery's dragged her into the bathroom. It's hard to get inside because of the child lock, but luckily Avery is more than adept. Her dad says she can't ever, never show Bethie or Dove how to do them, the same way she can't show Dove how to unlock the gates at the top and bottom of the stairs yet. She made Bethie close her eyes on the way in.

"Don't worry, Beth, I've seen daddy do it millions of times already," Avery says confidently.

They've opened the washing machine and shoved all of Steve's dirty clothes inside. He won't have to do them before bed tonight, and that means more time for snuggles. Avery climbed up onto the side of the machine using a precariously stacked contraption of potties and an upside down laundry basket, and now she's eyeballing how much detergent needs to go in.

"This is heavy," Bethie complains, her arms shaking from the weight of the Tide liquid.

Avery really wasn't supposed to show her how to open that cabinet, but she felt it necessary. Bethie won't eat the detergent, anyways, Bethie barely likes eating normal food. Avery pulls the detergent up, having finally decided that they need more. She lets a thick splash of green drizzle down onto the clothes, nodding approvingly, and screws the lid back on.

She drops the detergent down and a rogue towel muffles the thump, sliding off of the machine and closing the lid.

You appear looking urgent in the doorway.

"Hey, what have I said about the bathroom? You can't use this one when no one is with you, okay? Do you know what I'm saying?"

"Sorry, mommy," Bethie says tearfully.

You soften. "It's for you to be safe, baby." Your softness doesn't quite extend to Avery, though it doesn't fully disappear either. She's most in trouble. "Ave, you know the rules. You can come in here, but you're not supposed to bring the girls with you. I'm not happy with you."

"Mom, I'm sorry," Avery says, not taking it quite as hard as Beth, "but Bethie needed to pee super badly, we couldn't make it downstairs."

You buy her lie. "Okay. Okay, but not again. Promise? I just don't want you girls getting into something you shouldn't."

"Promise," Avery says.

You smile down at them both before looking over their heads. "Daddy must've forgot to turn on the machine. Press start for me, Ave. Big green button."

Avery clicks the big green button on the washing machine smugly. They already helped.

You lead them out of the bathroom and back into Avery's room, where cups of juice and an exorbitant amount of snacks wait on the nightstand. They sit on the floor while you make Avery's bed, a plate of ants on logs between their knees.

"Dove's sleeping downstairs on the beanbag," you say. The baby monitor in your pyjama pocket doesn't make a peep. "So if you do need to pee, please be quiet. And up here, too, I think daddy finally got the baby to sleep as well."

"Is it bedtime?" Bethie asks.

You fold back the corner of Avery's comforter. With a sigh, you sit at the top of her freshly made bed and hold out your arms. "No, it's snuggle time. Come and keep me company."

Bethie rockets into your arms. Avery doesn't rush, focused on eating as many logs as she can, washing it down with a huge swig of strawberry and raspberry juice. You hoist Bethie over one thigh and hold her to your stomach, groaning, "Oh, there she is, there's my girl. Daddy said you didn't eat any of your dinner when you got home, do you wanna tell me why? I won't tell anyone else."

"I just wasn't hungry."

"Really? Did you have a big lunch?"

"No…" Bethie rubs her face against your neck. "Daddy wasn't happy because I didn't eat any lunch."

"Oh, sweetheart," you say, "daddy worries about you. You don't have an appetite."

"A what?"

"You don't get hungry enough," you explain.

"That's not like me, I eat lots and lots," Avery says proudly, smiling at you through Bethie's hair in your face.

"You do! You eat lots and it makes you smart and strong. That's why I want you to eat lots, too," you say, moving your focus to Bethie again, finger poking her chest gently, "You're just as strong and smart as your sister, but you need to keep eating. Maybe I can make you something else, if you don't want the ants on logs, how does that sound? I can make you anything you want, Beth."

"Can I have something too?" Avery asks, licking peanut butter off of her finger.

"Of course you can. Maybe something not too big for you, though. I don't want you to feel sick."

Avery considers that a win. You keep prodding at Bethie, wondering why she isn't hungry. You offer her soups and sandwiches and when that doesn't work you suggest ice cream and candied orange slices. Avery can't understand why her sister would say no to all of these things, but she doesn't have time to ask. Steve wanders into the room looking like he's been trampled by an elephant, hair sticking up and eyes sallow. There's a new baby monitor in his hand.

"Hey," he says, yawning wide. His teeth snap together and he smacks his lips. "Holy macaroni, she's a toughie. Every time I tried to put her down she'd wake up again."

Avery has been waiting for this moment all day. She abandons her ants, wiping sticky fingers in her nightie as she crowds Steve's legs. She wants to be picked up, but she's a little too long and Steve's too tired. He bends down to put his arms under her armpits and hug her to his chest, grabbing her up half-hearted and depositing her on the end of her bed. He sits down next to her, and he pats his lap.

She squeals happily and complies.

"Hello," he says fondly.

"What have you even been doing all day?" she asks him.

He sighs. "I really don't know, Ave. I don't. What have you been doing? Besides half a jar of peanut butter."

She giggles as he wipes the peanut butter off of her cheeks and the corners of her mouth with the bottom of his t-shirt. "I've been with Beth."

"We watched FernGully," Bethie supplies helpfully.

Steve melts as you have, the two of you slouched against the walls bordering Avery's bed. You have matching dark circles. Avery thumbs at Steve's uselessly, wondering if he needs a good wash or a good sleep. He smells nice, she decides, if a bit milky, pressing her face into his neck as her arms lie flat to his shoulders.

"Is your monitor working now?" you ask him.

"It's really loud," he assures you.

"Okay. I'm worried I'm gonna fall asleep while Dove's downstairs on the beanbag."

"Did you lock the baby gate?"

"Yeah."

"Then don't worry. All our furniture is anchored properly. The worst she can do is murder the pot pourri again."

"I don't want to fall asleep yet, I missed my girls so much," you say, kissing Bethie's cheek. "So, so much. Maybe I can call in sick tomorrow."

"Honey."

"It won't hurt anyone," you say.

"Later," Steve says, talking to you but smiling at Avery, chasing her gaze with his. "We'll talk about it later."

"So mean to me," you joke in a murmur, sliding flat onto your back, Bethie against your chest.

Avery can hear you whispering to Bethie, tiny snapshots of a conversation. Are you sure there's nothing wrong, bubby? and If dinner was yucky, it doesn't matter, you can tell me.

Steve starts to brush Avery's hair out of her face, big fingers exceedingly gentle as he tucks silken strands behind her ears. She had it cut to her chin like Aunt Robin a few weeks ago, and the shorn locks fall to her shoulders now. Steve brushes through them slowly, methodically, tucking it all back with a familiar calmness in his warm brown eyes.

Avery turns enough to watch TV, content to be held by the very best dad in the world, her hand screwed in the neckline of his shirt so he can't run away.

Having finished her hair, Steve moves on to Avery's face. He draws lines against her small eyebrows, flattening sticky up hair with care. He frets at the tiny mole taking form on her ear, the one he made her go see the doctor for. Just a beauty mark, the doctor said.

"Well, she's beautiful everywhere," Steve had said. "How was I supposed to know the difference?"

"Dad," she whispers.

"What?" Steve whisper back.

"Am I pretty?"

Steve pushes her hair out of her face and frames it in two hands. "You're the prettiest girl in the world, Ave."

She blushes and his face does this thing where he looks like he's going to cry, but Steve doesn't cry around them much. He cried when the baby came home, and again the next day with the baby in his arms. Avery was freaked out the first time, but Aunt Robin said he always does it. He cried way worse than that when you came home, Avey girl. He was like a waterfall, they had to put you in a new babygrow. Avery tried to picture it, her dad crying with a tiny baby Avery in his arms, there are enough pictures of them together, but Steve always looks happy.

"You think that?" she asks.

"I more than think it," he says. "Isn't my girl pretty?"

You and Bethie crane your heads. "She's gorgeous," you say with a smile. Bethie nods her agreement.

"Oh," Avery says. She'd wanted them to say that, it was why she asked, but now all the attention is on her she's not sure how to handle it.

Steve chuckles and drags her forward. "You're soooo pretty," he says into her hair, sandwiching her in the tightest hug ever. "You're beautiful. B-E-A-U-tiful."

His niceness makes her really happy to have been nice back; he's being so gentle that Avery decides she's going to tell him about the laundry they put on for him, but he rubs her back some more and she starts to forget. It's not so far from bedtime…

She falls asleep against his chest.

"Can you hear that?" you ask.

Steve looks up from Avery's dozing face to you. "What?"

You pull the baby monitor from your pocket and hold it to your ear. "I thought it was making a weird noise."

Steve listens intently. Now that you mention it, he can hear something. "D'you put the laundry in?"

"You forgot to put it on," you say.

"I was getting around to it. You wanted whites, right, for work?"

"You didn't turn it on."

"Honey, I haven't touched the machine today, not even to fill the drum. What is that noise?" he asks.

You ease Bethie off of your lap and stand with a groan. "It's gonna break," you say decisively, "that sounds like a death rattle. Which is exactly what we need right now, more bills."

Steve lays Avery down. She can't have been sleeping for ten minutes but she's a heavy sleeper and doesn't rouse, only curls inward with her hand on her chin. Bethie holds out her hand and Steve takes it, the two of them joining you in the doorway of Avery's bedroom.

"It won't break, don't worry," Steve placates.

"What are we gonna do if it breaks?" you mumble, rubbing your tired face.

"We'll have to wear dirty clothes," Steve says.

"That's not funny."

Steve frowns. "It so is, you're just tired. And anyway, the washing machine isn't gonna break–" His eyebrows rise.

"Steve–"

"Holy fuck," Steve says, squeezing Bethie's hand. "Well, that's bad."

A line of foamy bubbles are pushing out from under the bathroom door and darkening the carpeting. You rush to open the bathroom door, unleashing a wave of suds that cover your toes. "What the fuck," you say, "what the fuck? Steve, what the fuck."

Bethie puts her hands over her ears before Steve can do it for her.

He joins you in the bubbly bathroom, the two of you horrified and baffled at once. "What the fuck," you say again, this time sounding tearful. You click the off button on the washing machine, and while the sloshing, thick sound it was making ceases, bubbles continue to flood out. Together, you and Steve flattens your towels on top of the floor to smother the soap. You're most panicked about the carpet because it'll get damp and the wood underneath it might rot, and Steve's most concerned about the washing machine, because despite his reassurances, he's worried it really might be broken.

Bethie, quiet, sweet Bethie, stands on a wet towel, her socks soaked, and bursts into guilty tears. "I'm sorry," she cries.

"Why are you sorry?" Steve asks.

You may be confused and irritated, but nothing ever stops you from scooping up your baby and comforting her within and inch of her life. "Beth," you say softly, "don't panic."

She's crying pretty hard compared to her usual tears. Steve hasn't seen her this wound up since that washable pen burst in her mouth over a year ago, maybe even two.

"Me and Ave tried to do the laundry," she admits, shaking, each word said through a staggering sob. "We wanted daddy to have less to do so we could have bedtime cu-cu-cuddles."

"Oh, no," you say gently.

Bethie sobs. You rub her little back. Steve doesn't like seeing Bethie cry, but he can't help smiling in the moment. It's sweet, and it's a tad silly, but the damage done wasn't nearly as bad as Bethie seems to think it is. You and Steve are worriers, is all.

"It's okay," you say, laughing yourself as Bethie wraps her arms around your neck and nearly strangles you in an attempt to soak in your love. "Beth, nobody's mad at you, okay? It was just an accident, it didn't hurt anyone. That's really nice, trying to do things for daddy, but the washing machine is for grown ups, baby. It's hard."

"Mommy?" Dove calls from the baby monitor.

You let out a tired groan. "No," you whine.

"Want me to get her?" Steve asks.

You look like you really want to say yes. "No, that's okay. It's fine." You kiss Bethie's cheek. "Daddy has to take over, my love. I'm not mad, okay? Don't feel sad."

Bethie nods sadly. You hand her over, hovering, and press a loving kiss to her cheek as Dove begins to cry.

Steve watches you take your socks off as you leave, throwing the wet bundle of them back haphazardly into the bathroom. Bethie smushes her face to Steve's chest and cries. He shifts her weight in his arms. They're burning from exertion, but he doesn't complain.

"What did you and Avery do?" he asks. "You're not supposed to come in here without me or mom, you know that."

"We just put the laundry in the washing machine," she says.

"How did you even lift the lid?" Steve asks.

"Avery climbed up," she says, words stringing together into one amorphous blob of sound.

"Beth, why are you crying?" he asks, giving her back a quick pat.

"I didn't mean to make the bathroom explode," she says tearily.

"Ugh," Steve says. He puts the toilet seat down and sits, Bethie in his lap, his chin propped on her forehead. "Who cares? I don't even like this bathroom."

"You're not mad?" she whispers.

"Do I look mad?"

Bethie leans backward to take in Steve's face. He smiles at her, brown eyes light in the glaring bathroom fluorescent, his usually even complexion pale. Bethie raises a hand to feel his dark shadow, cringing at the scratch of stubble against her fingers.

"You don't like my beard, do you?" he asks.

"What beard?"

"Oh, ouch. I'll shave tonight, bub, don't worry. I know you don't like it. Mommy doesn't like it either, she says it makes kisses too annoying."

Bethie giggles quietly. "Not too annoying," she says.

"No?" Steve asks. He leans down to kiss her cheek and her nose and her eyebrows. "How were they? Scratchy?"

"Really scratchy."

"Annoying?"

"No," she says happily. Steve preens.

Bethie actually helps him tidy up the huge mess of the bathroom. Steve opens the washing machine and grabs all the soapy clothes from the drum, dumping them among the sodden towels in the bath tub. He and Beth wash as much soap out of them as they can, until she's practically falling asleep standing up in soaked pyjamas.

He gets her some new ones, helps her change, and tucks her into bed. She's asleep before he's said goodnight.

Exhausted, Steve has no choice but to persevere. He squeezes the excess water out of the newly unsoaped clothes and puts them and the towels in the washing machine, too tired to bother with separating anything properly. He doesn't add detergent.

When that's going, he mops and dries the bathroom floor so everyone's feet can stop making sticky sounds when they walk. He puts the last dry towel on the wet patch of carpet and steps on it. He should rub it, soak up all the excess moisture, but he does not have enough energy.

You ascend the stairs with Dove, your arms shaking from the strain. She's sleeping, so at least there's that. You take her into her room and leave her baby monitor on the side. Dove definitely doesn't need a monitor anymore, it's only for when she's napping downstairs and everyone else is upstairs. Blanket over her legs, you tuck her in and kiss her smooth forehead.

"You need to shower," you say to Steve as you close Dove's door.

"All the towels are wet."

You frown as you pass him by, rubbing his forearm with your finger briefly. "What about a robe? I know it's not ideal, but you're gonna catch a cold, your clothes are wet."

"I'll get changed."

"You deserve a warm shower," you insist.

"Honey," Steve says softly. Your shoulders relax at that one simple word. "I'm fine. We both need to change, and then we need to sleep." If he showered now he'd pass out against the glass like a saran wrapped turkey.

You and Steve change into fresh pyjamas in silence, worried about waking the baby who sleeps in her cot in the corner of the room.

"I'm gonna go get Avery," Steve says.

You're not surprised. "Softie."

"You're a softie," he says, pinching your hip.

Avery's where Steve left her, sideways across her sheets. He knows Bethie wouldn't have masterminded the laundry plan by herself. He frowns at the thought that Avery might be missing him so much that before bedtime cuddles were on her mind.

"Avery, honey," he says, stroking her cheek and her shoulder with either hand.

She murmurs and wiggles away from his touch.

"Ave, come and get in with me and mom. Does that sound okay?" He really doesn't like the idea of his oldest feeling lonely. Sleeping with kids in the bed sucks most of the time due to their flailing and lack of blanket related etiquette, but Steve can deal with it tonight. Just like Bethie, he has a guilty conscious. "Ave?"

Avery blinks sluggishly. "I can sleep in your bed?" she asks.

"Please, would you? I want a cuddle. Does that sound cool?"

Avery finally opens her eyes, her long lashes riddled with sleepies. "That sounds so cool," she says croakily.

He can't carry her, he'd drop her at this point. They hold hands on the way to your room, finding you an inch from sleep on top of the blankets. He and Avery laugh as quietly as they can as they pull them from under you, and when they climb in together, you steal Avery from his side, awake enough to know one of your girls is close by.

"Dad," Avery whines, reaching out her arms until he does what she wants.

Steve throws his arms over you and Avery, snuggling in closely. She relaxes into your chest, her hand clinging to the front of Steve's shirt.

Steve closes his eyes.

"We didn't brush our teeth," Avery whispers.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart," you plead, also whispering.

"We'll get cavities."

"We'll brush double in the morning," Steve promises. "Please, Ave. Sleep now."

Averys easily convinced by Steve's hand in her hair. "Okay," she says through a yawn. "Love you love you."

"Love you, honey."

"...Dad?"

Steve sighs. "What?"

"Did you see? Me and Bethie did laundry."

"I saw. Thanks, babe."

"We–"

"Sleep, Ave. Please go to sleep."

592 notes · View notes