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#wait this is too much tag rambling hang on
arcaneyouth · 7 months
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rapidly approaching my 21st birthday is hard and weird but not for any normal reasons thats for sure
#not a vent post im just rambling in the tags#theres 4 main factors at play here.#firstly theres Society n all that telling me 21 is a Special Biethday!!! you'll be old enough to legally do adult things!!!#secondly theres the fact that i love being alive and celebrating it this shit rules like fuck yes i get to keep living hell yes#thirdly theres the fact that i kinda dont actually care. like its chill. ive reached the point where a birthday is a cute lil tradition#i dont gotta go wild with it and dont feel the need to treat it differently than any other day#but also the 4th thing which is 21 is yet another age my doctors told me id never get to see so like this is A Big One#so this is actually hard as hell because fundamentally i dont care that much n dont have strong emotions BUT FUCK DUDE WHAT IF BIG CELEBRAT#constantly sitting here going hehe yayy its my birthday soon cant wait to hang out with my friends and then go back to normal life#while also going I NEED BIG PLANS I NEED HUGE PLANS I NEED A CELEBRATION OFF THE WALLS OH FUCK OH GOD#it doesnt stop being funny. i dont even know what kind of big thing id do anyways#mom said i couldnt go to moterey bay aquarium too much money and that was my only idea#ive been thinking about this for weeks and have come up with 0 other plans#'we gotta do a huge party' ok then come up with one then dumbass#oh noooo guess ill have a nice time at home just like any other day oh nooooo#guess my 21st birthday will be unspecial. darn. anyways
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alchemiclee · 16 days
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as a fellow introvert; we are social creatures. introverts who purposefully see no one for months on end are usually just in a cycle where its been so long since they’ve hung out that it’s too intimidating for them to do anymore. i 100% feel tired after hanging out with my friends but i DO also feel happy and refreshed! tl;dr - you’re super normal lol. try to reach out to a couple people just to chat this week <3
thanks for reaching out I really appreciate it❤️ but I have to rant a bit. I allow you to ignore it!
I wish to not be a social creature because going too long without having a friend to talk to or not having someone to talk with almost daily feels bad and it's so hard to have a friend when I need one D:
i've been reaching out to people for the last few weeks or so but they don't reach back. try playing games with people but they play with their other friends or dont feel like playing. invite people to hang out but they say maybe and never give an answer or don't respond.
I don't want to bother my closest friends in our group chat too much in our group chat but the chat is mostly me sending messages with no response and even couple times saying I need a friend when I was having bad days but they didn't want to chat and I dont want to force anyone to entertain my lonely depressed ass. (especially when all I really needed was to talk about the new star rail stuff to distract me but I don't think they've finished it yet so I don't want to spoil) they live together so they always have to socialize and probably make each other tired without needing to add me to it.
so i've also been trying to reach out to new people, like joining twitch chats again for the first time in years. but that never goes well and doesn't satisfy my social needs. too many people talking at once and being the new person no one cares about and all....getting to know a new is very exhausting. but it's so hard to just be able to skip all that getting to know each other stuff jump straight into talking about a thing we both like (in this case it's star rail and cosplay and maybe art) I don't have enough already-known people to reach out to and i'm too tired to do the small talk dance until it's appropriate to jump into special interest territory. being autistic is so exhausting. I with to be one of those rare autistics I sometimes hear about that have 0 interest in social interaction at all
so as you can see, i'm trying. so hard. to the point I'm exhausting myself. it's been too much work for no payoff and makes things feel worse when the outcome isn't what I need and its constant reaching with no one grabbing my hand back. so I keep making annoying tumblr posts about it. i'm so sorry to anyone that reads my nonsense 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 this is a normal thing with me but it's usually kept to my other blog that's reserved for more serious posts like this but I tried posting here as a way to "reach out" and see if it invites any friendly friends or something but I don't think i'm doing it right...
(but I am going to a con tomorrow with someone I haven't talked to in like 2 years. but we don't have anything in common anymore so theres not much to talk about. he's the only person who responded to me after trying to reach out for like a month but I fear it will only exhaust me being around too many people and not help this gross need to have a deeper connecting socialization D:)
#i dont know how to ask for attention without asking for attention because attention seeking is bad and annoying#the more needy and annoying you come off the more people will ignore you. saying i need someone to talk to or hang out with gets me ignored#but being vague gets me also ignored???? like just trying to start a convo by throwing things out randomly doesnt work either#so if i cant be direct or indirect or invite people or ask to be invited or anything else ive tried ehst do i do?#how do i satisfy this stupid social need im cursed with? it takes me a month or 3 to recover from socializing so its not like i always ask#but its still too much. and “you need to find the right people” isnt helpful. because how!!! ive been looking for that for 30 years lmao#i just need someone to invite me and always invite me every time and always reach out first every time (well not every time. just dont make#me be the one every time because thats how it usually seems to go)#but no one wants to do the work and tell me when its ok to bother them. if i bother someone too many times in a row and get no response#then i will stop and wait. and wait. and wait. and give up eventually. or after certain amount of rejections i give up.#so that i dont come off as needy and attention seeking and obnoxious. if people want me they can come to me. and when no one does#that just feels bad. i hate that it feels bad. i wish to make that stop. i wish to turn off feelings.#i cannot figure out the line between bothering someone too much or just enough. how much am i required to push people#and how much is too much where i snap the line while trying to reel them in? because ive snapped more times than ive caught#or the bait just gets completely ignored and i get bored of waiting#oops im slipping into metaphor territory now. that means its time to stop saying words.#hopefully no one reads my annoying tags. i just needed a free space to ramble and vent amd tags are lile little whispers to do that in#but also it is autism acceptance month. people should be adopting a local autistic(me) person to show them what having friends is like#lee rants#im being super particular about how i need to socialize right now as well. dont want trauma bonding/life talks/depression sharing type stuff#only want special interest light hearted goofy fun talks. but those are so hard to do. its easy for people to default into doom conversation#but its hard to keep them on my topic of interest and to stay positive 😭
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lev1hei1chou · 1 month
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Caught
Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 551 Synopsis: Gojo lies about his location Masterlist
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The latest mission had been really intense, adrenaline-fueled, and downright exhausting. But for you, the thought of finally getting home to your little family kept you going. With a quick check-in, you called Satoru, hoping to hear the comforting sound of your husband's voice and perhaps a few adorable ramblings from your little child.
"Hey, babe, how's it going?" you greeted Gojo over the phone, hoping to hear the familiar warmth in his voice.
"Hey there baby, everything's good here. Just putting C/N to bed," Gojo replied casually.
Relief washed over you. "Oh, that's great! I miss you guys so much. I can't wait to get home."
"Yeah, we miss you too," Gojo said, his voice slightly distracted.
You frowned. "Are you sure everything's okay? You sound a bit off."
"No, love, everything's fine. We're just here, at home, all rolled up and cozy in bed," Gojo reassured, his tone a tad too chipper.
"Well alright then! I'll see you guys soon. Love you."
Something didn't add up. You glanced at the map on your phone, which showed Gojo's location tagged in a cafeteria nearby. Suspicion crept in, and you decided to investigate.
As you entered the cafeteria, you spotted Gojo sitting at a table, chatting away with someone you couldn't see from your position, far from the cozy confines of home as he claimed. Confused, you dialed Gojo's number again.
"Hey, Satoru, where are you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
"At home, of course," he replied without missing a beat.
You narrowed your eyes, your gaze fixed on Gojo. "Really? Because it looks like you're in a cafeteria."
Gojo's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly regained his composure. "Uh what are you talking about? Must be a glitch in the GPS or something. Definitely home, just enjoying some quality time with our little one."
You sighed, not buying Gojo's flimsy excuse for a second. Determined to catch him red-handed, you made your way quietly behind him. As you stood behind your husband, your child caught sight of you and froze, their eyes widening in panic.
Gojo continued chatting, unaware of your presence behind him. "You know, your mom can be so strict sometimes. Always making sure everything's in order, no room for fun."
You couldn't help but roll their eyes at Gojo's comment. But before you could confront him, your child subtly signaled towards your direction, prompting your husband to turn around.
The moment Gojo laid eyes on you, his expression morphed from nonchalant to downright mushy. "Well, look who's here! Isn't it my favorite person in the world?"
"Gojo Satoru, what are you doing here?" you asked, trying to feign seriousness, but couldn't fight the urge to smile at his sudden change in demeanor.
Gojo grinned sheepishly. "Okay, fine, you caught me. We may have wanted a little break from bedtime duty."
"And you thought hanging out in a cafeteria was the best way to do that?" you raised an eyebrow incredulously.
"Well, when you put it like that..." Gojo trailed off, scratching the back of his head. "But hey, since you're here, why don't you join us? We were just about to grab some snacks."
You couldn't help but laugh at Gojo's antics. "Fine, but only because I missed you guys too much."
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Has anyone written this season from Tommy’s POV yet?? Because if so please tag me, but in the meantime I just had to outline the crazy sequence of events from his POV:
- Haven’t heard from the 118 in years and suddenly Howie is asking me to fly them into a hurricane
- But also we gotta wait for Hen but you’re gonna need to go get her so we can dramatically surprise her from inside the helicopter
- Can’t believe these losers were actually right and we just found an overturned cruise ship
- Start talking to Eddie in the aftermath and have so much in common, exchange numbers so we can hang out
- A day later Evan Buckley calls the station and asks if he can come by for a tour whenever I’ve got some free time and he seems cool too so why not
- My buddy in Vegas gets awesome tickets to the fight and convinces me to fly out and hey Eddie mentioned he’s into MMA right?
- Evan is super excited about everything but also doesn’t really seem like he’d actually want to switch stations so that’s odd - but hey flying is awesome and I can’t resist a little eye candy so I’ll offer to teach him
- Fight is awesome. Eddie is awesome. New friends are awesome and it’s rare that you have so much in common with someone so we are BFFs now
- Vibes at basketball were strange?? Apparently Evan doesn’t usually play but he shows up and gets really intense and I end up having to take Eddie to get his ankle patched up
- Painkiller!Eddie starts mumbling about how this is all his fault and he knows how Buck gets jealous and….oh now I feel bad
- Let me go to Evan’s place and clear the air - didn’t mean to cause all this drama I just wanted all the new friends
- I might be reading this wrong but Evan is flirting with me…? While also talking about Eddie way too much??
- Okay he is definitely flirting with me but also I am still not convinced he was jealous over me
- But also how can you not kiss a guy like that when he’s flirting with you and then rambling??
- Damn I really hope that was okay because I did not give him a lot of warning
- 😁😁 it was okay
- Gotta get out of here before I get distracted by kissing this man and miss my shift
- But can’t let Evan overthink it too much so make sure I secure a date before I go
- Oops almost forgot I came here to fix what I broke between him and Eddie - one last reminder and we’re good!
- Can’t wait for Saturday…
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fettuccin-e · 7 months
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A Little Show
Kinktober Day 10: Stripping
Tags: Steven Grant x Reader, afab!fem!reader, lap dance, grinding, unprotected piv (don't be silly, wrap your willy), reader is a former stripper, a little bit of possessiveness from Steven, precious husband Steven is so lovely (w/c: 1.3K)
A/N: So I know I'm late with this day, but it took me like forever to come up with something, and then I remembered our collective husband Steven Grant. I adore writing him so much so I had such a grand ol' time writing this. (I am using these prompts for Kinktober from flightlessangelwings!)
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When Steven found out about what you used to do for a living, you’d braced for the worst.
Marc already knew, because of course he did. He probably conducted a full background check on you the moment Steven got the idea of asking you on a date. There was no hiding your old life from him, including being a stripper, just as he wasn’t able to hide from you, including Steven and Jake.
You’d known that Steven wouldn’t react badly. You knew he’d never yell at you, call you horrible names, kick you out of the flat. But it didn’t stop the paralyzing fear from kicking in. Of him letting you down easy, telling you that the two of you were just too different, that your morals just aren’t the same. So when you’d told him, you’d braced yourself for the first relationship you’d ever truly loved to go up in flames.
But fuck, you couldn’t have predicted this. For Steven’s eyes to darken as you describe what you used to do for an audience, his gaze dragging down your body in a way that has heat flooding down to your core. He’s silent for a few moments, and it makes you squirm in your seat. He mumbles something under his breath, definitely to himself, but you need to hear it.
“What, Steven?” you ask, steeling yourself against his inevitable rejection.
“Will you show me?” he chokes out, his cheeks flaming red, before he thinks better of himself, his eyes going wide. “Wait, shit, sorry love, no. God, it’s fine, of course it’s fine. I love you, yeah? Nothin’s going to change that anytime soon, I’ll tell you. ‘M just a bit jealous, y’know, in spite of myself, but fuck, shouldn’t have asked that. Just ignore that, yeah? I-”
“Steven,” you cut off his nervous rambling. “You want me to show you?” You can’t help how your voice dips a little deeper, a little raspier, in a way that you know gets Steven all hot and bothered.
“Um,” Steven clears his throat, fiddling with his hands. He won’t meet your eyes. “I mean, who wouldn’t, yeah? Got the most beautiful girl in the entire world, and-”
“You want me to strip for you?” you whisper, nudging his chin up with your hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. His pupils are blown wide, and you watch the motion of his tongue as it just barely wets his lips.
“Please, love,” he rasps, and God, when he begs for you like that, who are you to refuse him?
You rise above him, and his eyes follow you, unable to tear away for a moment. As you stand, you take a long look at him, at the way his cock bulges in his slacks, the way his hands flex helplessly at his sides. Steven doesn’t have the control that Marc or Jake have, he’s fucking desperate for it. 
There’s no music, no pumping bass of the club you used to work at, but God, you find that you don’t need it. The heat of Steven’s gaze is more than enough, watching you with bated breath as you undo the buttons of your shirt, one, by one, by one. You let it carelessly drop to the floor behind you, leaving you in just your bra. You don’t own the same frilly bras you used to, from your old life, but Steven looks at you like you’re wearing the sexiest lingerie he’s ever seen.
You toe off your shoes, grateful for the fact that you just wore flats today, and slowly unzip your jeans. There are so many ways that this is so different from how it used to be. You never started your dances in jeans, never danced without music and dark lighting, without the stench of sex and sweat hanging in the air.
You’ve never danced and needed the man in front of you, loved the man in front of you.
The feeling is heady, lust swimming through your veins and pooling in your cunt. You peel your jeans off slowly, letting them pool around your ankles, stepping towards Steven. Steven, whose mouth gapes open just slightly, watching you like he’s starving for it.
You straddle him on the couch, moving your hips over his crotch in a slow grind that has you both gasping. Grinning at the way he watches your body move like water over him, you reach behind you and deftly unclip your bra in a practiced move. You slide it down your arms, throwing it somewhere behind the couch. You grip onto Steven’s shoulders to hump into him harder, and Steven’s hands flex at his sides as if he’s unsure what to do with them.
“You know what’s different about this than what I used to do?” you murmur, your lips nearly brushing his.
“Hm?” Steven hums absently, watching your body undulate above him.
You smile down at him. “You actually get to touch.”
Pulling his hands into yours, you mold his hands to your skin, nearly shivering at the feel of them. It’s like Steven snaps out of a trace, groaning softly under his breath as he greedily runs his hands over your naked skin, cupping your breasts and thumbing at your nipples in a way that makes your head spin. 
“So- so fucking gorgeous for me, love,” he murmurs, tilting his head up for a kiss. You meet him without hesitation, slipping your tongue into his mouth and drinking him in. You hump into him harder, shamelessly grinding your clit into the obvious bulge tenting the front of his pants. "Can I fuck you?” he gasps into your mouth, “Please tell me I can fuck you, darling.”
You’re nodding before your brain can even think of a proper response, and Steven takes his hands off your body to fumble at the zipper of his slacks, tugging himself out without any kind of finesse. It feels like you’re both teenagers, desperately clawing at each other, trying to get closer, as close as you can possibly get.
You haphazardly tug your panties to the side, letting yourself sink down on his cock, slow enough to let you feel the stretch as he breaks you apart. The moans you both let out as you sink to the hilt are borderline animalistic. The both of you are strung too tight, too needy to take this slow.
“God, you’re so-” Stephen punches his hips up into you, making you claw at his shoulders, “so tight for me, my love.” You can only press your forehead to his, meeting his lips in a sticky kiss as you bounce desperately on his cock. He stretches you so perfectly like this, reaching deep inside and the tip of his cock pressing into your g-spot with every thrust. The moans you’re letting out are downright embarrassing, but God, you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.
“How many of them wanted you like this?” Steven grunts against your mouth, meeting you thrust for thrust. “How many of those men you danced for wanted you just like this, bouncing on their cocks like the needy girl you are?”
“Steven, oh my God,” you whimper, letting him guide you as he fucks up into you, his thick hands braced on your hips, holding you tight enough that your skin pales beneath his fingertips.
“You’re mine, darling, no one else gets to have you,” he snarls, in the way he gets when he’s with you, when he’s lost in the feel of you. “This little cunt is mine, yeah? My perfect girl, can’t believe we found you.”
He thrusts into you once, twice, and you’re curling into him, barely able to hold yourself up, as you gush down his cock. You sob his name as he leans forward to press hot kisses down your neck, and you curl your fingers into his hair as you shake through your orgasm. 
Steven isn’t far behind, plunging deep into your pussy as it contracts around him, filling you up, claiming you in the most primal way he can.
He holds you on his lap as you both try to come down, keeping you afloat. You lean up to press a gentle kiss to his lips as you finally feel your mind come back to you.
“Have you ever actually been to a strip club, Steven?” you ask, smiling.
“Don’t need to,” he sighs. “Don’t want to.”
You hum. “You might change your mind once you see what I can do on a pole.”
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nicohischierz · 17 days
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reunion for the books: john marino
tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hischif you want to join the taglist let me know!!
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“johnny, i can’t just stay with you,” you reiterated
your boyfriend grumbled on the phone and pouted. you chuckled at his expression and answered your brothers text.
“it’s not like you live in a different apartment building johnny. you guys live on the same floor for goodness sake,” you teased him.
john grumbled a bit more before being called by your youngest brother.
you arrived to new jersey the morning of the devils game against the rangers. jack and luke had driven you from the airport and you caught up with them before they went to the rink.
john saw you as you bid goodbye to your brothers. he smiled and waved, a light blush coating his cheeks as you blew him a kiss.
you too made your way to madison square garden for the game. you adorned a hughes jersey accompanied with a necklace from your boyfriend.
john had thrown you a puck during warm ups under the pretence that you were a fan. your brothers waved and luke continued stick handling beside your boyfriend.
the game hadn’t even lasted a minute before the first fight broke out.
john wasn’t much of a fighter.
and this was proven when he went to fight the rangers player. sure, john held his own for a bit but he went down easily.
your spot next to the penalty box proved useful as you looked at john unimpressed. johnny smiled at you before conversing with his teammates.
they didn’t stay long in the box before they were ejected from the game.
you enjoyed the rest of the game despite the devils loss.
jack had texted you earlier to meet him and luke at the away changing rooms so you walked around like a headless chicken trying to find your way.
you’d finally found the changing room and waited off to a side when john walked out. he grinned and ran over to you, picking you up from the ground.
“oh i’ve missed you so much,” he murmured in your ear.
the second he put you back down, you brought him in for a kiss. however, it was short lived as you heard chatter coming your way.
instead you opted to change your position to a hug. “leave your door open and i’ll be there as soon as my brothers are asleep,” you whispered pulled away.
john gulped hard before turning to his teammates that filled the hallway. jack and luke had trailed behind and hadn’t spotted the two friends reuniting.
that was until dawson opened his mouth “hey, you’re hughesy’s sister!” he pointed out.
luke then pushed past his teammates towards his sister but stopped in front of her and john.
“you two know each other?” he questioned.
you nodded and moved away from john to your younger brother. “oh lukey, you need to stop growing up!” you exclaimed.
jack came up behind the two of you and hugged you in greeting. “how do you know john?” he asked.
“well we went to harvard together and we happened to be in the same class. also because i did some work with the team,” you explained.
the boys let it slide and informed you that john, nico and dawson were coming to their apartment to hang out a bit.
you smiled and nodded along.
the rest of the evening was spent with you sending longing looks to john and excusing yourselves to the kitchen whilst trying to remain under the radar.
“baby, i think we should tell them,” john announced.
you stopped pouring your glass and turned to your boyfriend. “you want to tell my brothers right now?” you asked.
john nodded. “we’ve been dating for three years, i want to be able to take you out on dates and not worry about your brothers finding us sneaking around,” he confessed.
you were about to agree with him when jack barged into the kitchen. “you’ve been saying for three years!”
luke and the rest of the guys followed after. dawson handing the captain some money as he grumbled about his luck.
“i thought quinn was crazy when he said he thought you had a boyfriend!” jack rambled.
“but then when you kept going for our games in boston and penguins games we thought it was cause of your crush on crosby,”
john laughed at the last part, watching as your cheeks turned red. you promptly elbowed your boyfriend “i was like eight,”
john kissed the top of your head and smiled at your brothers.
luke narrowed his eyes at you and john before widening them.
“wait a minute. when duker and i called you last year and he saw someone’s head was that john?” he asked.
the two of you looked at each other and blushed.
“eww,” the two hughes brothers gagged.
john wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek. “now if you’ll excuse me, my girlfriend and i haven’t seen each other in months,” john excused.
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crypticreid · 7 months
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KINKTOBER DAY TWO
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October 6 -- Phone Sex
masterlist
author's note: first of all, I've been so overwhelmed with the amount of support I've received so far on my first post. Truly, it means the world to me, so thank you! 💖💖💖Also, I've started a tag list for kinktober. If you would like to be added, please reply to one of my posts or message me!
summary: after injuring yourself, you've been forced to stay home from a case and you miss Spencer more than you'd like to admit. Lucky for you, he's missing you just as much.
warnings: female reader, masturbation, guided masturbation, horny ramblings, a little bit of spencer dominance, dirty talk
word count: 2.8k
this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!
Your apartment was spotlessly clean. You’d spent almost the whole day organizing and scrubbing and even rearranging furniture. You hadn’t been able to sit still all day, distracted and bored at the same time. 
While on the last case a few days ago, you had sprained your ankle pretty bad. At least bad enough that Hotch had basically forced you to take a few days of leave. You argued that you could work the current case from the office with Garcia, but he’d simply leveled his ‘this isn’t up for discussion’ look at you, and you shut your mouth. Reid had offered to drive you home and then spent the entire night pampering you and not even letting you lift a finger. Then he had to leave for this case, and you were alone. Which had been okay while your ankle throbbed, but now your ankle was perfectly fine, and you were dying being stuck at home. 
You were restless, but nothing you did helped. And now you’re frustrated. 
You bite down on your bottom lip as you try to think of literally anything else you can do to keep your mind busy. Your eyes fall onto the clock hanging on the wall, and you notice that it’s almost midnight. 
There’s barely a slim chance that he’ll pick up, but you grab your cell phone anyway and call Spencer. It rings for several seconds until his automated voicemail picks up. A sigh falls from your lips. 
“Hey, Spencer. It’s me. I know you’re busy. I just – I just miss you.” You sigh again and feel slightly annoyed at how pitiful you sound. But it’s true. 
It’s been hard to sleep since he’s gone, both because you’ve realized you spend too much time worrying about him and because the bed feels so empty without his long limbs taking up an unfair amount of space. You miss laying on the couch with your feet tucked under his thigh as you both read in comfortable quietness. And you hate how empty your apartment feels without him here. “Anyway, stay safe. And I’ll see you when you get home. Love you.” 
You hang up the phone and slump onto the couch with a groan. After a few minutes of trying to read, you give up and decide to take a shower and head to bed. You toss your cell phone onto your bed as you take off your clothes and grab a towel. In the bathroom, you turn on the shower, and as you wait for the water to warm up, you glance at the mirror. 
You see your naked body, the body that Spencer spends so much time worshiping. Your hands graze up your thighs, remembering how his hands grab onto them when he holds you pressed against his mouth as his tongue brings you to orgasm after orgasm. You continue your journey upwards across your stomach where he presses kisses and murmurs how much he loves you, to your breasts where he licks and nips and takes your nipple in between his teeth. 
A warmth begins to gather low in your belly, and you feel the beginning twinges of need in your core. Quickly, you blink away the images of Spencer and drop your hands to the cool counter of the sink. You take a few deep breaths as you lean against the counter. 
In the shower, you can’t help it when your hands caress your skin, paying special attention to your breasts. You moan out loud alone and realize why you’ve been so restless today. There’s a slight blush coloring your cheeks at the understanding. You rush through the rest of your shower and dry off with the towel so you can throw back the comforter of your bed and settle into the freshly cleaned sheets. 
You start to rub your thighs, massaging and focusing on the sensation against your skin. With your eyes closed, an image of Spencer emerges, leaning over you, touching you. No, now he’s lying next to you, he’s breathing against your neck right after he kisses below your ear, and his hands leave your thighs and travel across your stomach. Just the fingertips, almost tickling, raising the anticipation, and he smiles when you take a sharp intake of breath before he reaches your breasts. Your hands are smaller than his, so it isn’t exactly the same sense of pleasure, but it works for now. 
If he was here, Spencer would be kissing your neck, so gingerly, and then he’d laugh lightly against your skin when you’d squirm impatiently. But since he isn’t here, you don’t have to tease. Release was only a few minutes away. Your fingers gather the wetness at your core and glide upward toward your clit. 
Instantly, you sigh at the contact and begin leisurely circles on the sensitive bud as your imaginary Spencer looks into your eyes. He would lean down to kiss your lips, just as slowly as his fingers moved on you, his tongue teasing your lips, but never giving himself over to you fully. Not yet. You moan his name and speed up your fingers. 
The pleasure rises deep within you, your hips moving in tandem with your fingers, and you apply just a little more pressure. Another sharp intake of breath, and you can tell you’re close. 
Your phone rings. You freeze your motions, unaware of your surroundings for a split second, but then you force your eyes open and scramble off the bed. The ringtone is somewhere in the room, but you can’t remember where you left your phone. 
The phone rings incessantly as though it’s mocking you as you feverishly search for it. When you pull the comforter off the bed harshly, a loud clang on the floor confirms the phone’s location. You grab it and answer breathlessly, “hello.” 
“Why are you out of breath?” Spencer asks on the other end, a thousand or so miles away. 
You press a hand to your sweaty forehead and then push sticky strands of hair off of it. “Oh, I was in the shower, and I heard the phone ringing in the bedroom.” You lie even though Spencer is a genius profiler and would most likely see right through it. But the idea of admitting to him that you were touching yourself to the thought of him made your stomach do somersaults. 
There is a small pause before he replies, “I’m sorry for interrupting your shower.” 
“I was done. It’s fine.” You chew on your bottom lip.
“Oh, good. I got your message.” 
“I’m sorry for bothering you.” You sit on the edge of the bed. 
“Don’t apologize. It was nice to hear your voice.” His words make your heart flutter. “I miss you.” 
You sigh, “I miss you too,” and lie back horizontal across the bed, your feet dangling off the edge. 
“I’ll be home tomorrow. We wrapped up the case about an hour ago, but there’s a bad thunderstorm, and flights were grounded.” You picture him alone in a hotel room holding his cellphone up to his ear, his long body across the bed. 
“How was the case?” 
“I’d rather talk about you. How was your day?” 
You turn on your side so you can fiddle with the top sheet that was left askew by all of your frantic movements earlier. “Nothing exciting.”
“And how’s your ankle?” 
“Perfectly fine. Not even sore.” 
“I’ll see about that. Don’t think I won’t take a look at it tomorrow.” 
“You’re not a medical doctor, Spencer.” You roll your eyes with a small smile playing on your lips. He laughs lightly. 
There is a soft silence between the two of you for a few moments. It isn’t awkward but comforting. Almost as if he’s lying beside you and the two of you are simply resting in the presence of each other. “What were you really doing before I called?” He inquires. 
You smile. He’s too smart for his own good. “Exercising,” you quip. 
“The kind of exercise that requires your hand between your legs.” 
“Spencer!” You gasp. 
He laughs again, and you wish he was next to you because you’d kiss the laugh off his lips. “Am I wrong?” 
“How did you know?” 
“I’m a profiler.” 
“No, really tell me,” you demand. Profiling isn’t a magic trick, and Spencer isn’t a psychic. 
“I guessed.” You roll your eyes because you can see his face in your mind, the sly almost smug smile and the eyes full of amusement. 
“Bullshit.” 
“No, truly. I figured you missed me just as much as I missed you.” His voice lowers to almost a whisper, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “That you’ve been thinking about me just as much as I’ve been thinking about you.” 
“You’ve been thinking about me?” You murmur. 
“I can’t get you out of my head. It’s quite distracting, to be completely honest.” 
“Me? Distracting the brilliant Dr. Reid?” You ask innocently. 
“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” His voice has taken on that husky tone that sends wet heat straight to your core. 
“Tell me.” You repeat your earlier demand, your hand rubbing mindless patterns across your skin. 
“I’m hard just from hearing your voice. It’s taking everything in me to not to unbuckle my pants and fuck into my hand like I’d fuck into you.” 
You can’t help but bite your lip at his words because it’s rare for him to curse like that. “Do it.” 
“Only if you do it too. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you touch yourself and make yourself come just from my voice.” 
“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, your hand traveling lower. 
He hums low and deep in the back of his throat. “You’re already doing it aren’t you, sweetheart? Couldn’t even wait for me to undo my belt. Needed it that bad, didn’t you?” 
“I need it.” 
You’re about to reach your aching center when he makes a quick tutting sound. “Don’t touch yourself yet.” You instantly pull your hand away. “Go get your earbuds and connect them to your phone. I want to be right in your ear, and I want both of your hands free.” 
You comply quickly, putting in your earbuds and then laying back down on your bed. You set your phone beside you. “I’m ready.” 
“Are you? What are you ready for?” He teases. He wants you to vocalize exactly what you want even though it makes you blush or maybe because it makes you blush. He wants it despite not being here to see it. 
“To touch myself.” 
“And?” 
“To make myself come from just your voice.” 
“Good…” he starts, but you have one more thing to add. 
“And I want to hear you come too, baby.” 
In the distance, you can hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it and the shuffling of him taking off his pants. “I’ll do anything for you.” You settle into the bed, anticipation buzzing across your skin. “Are you comfortable?” 
“Yes.” 
“Perfect. Close your eyes and just focus on my voice and your breathing. Take a deep breath for me. And let it go, just like that. Where do you need me most, sweetheart?” 
“Everywhere.” You answer instantly. 
“No, baby, I know, but focus for me. Where is that ache? Where do you need me to touch you?”
You take a deep breath. “My breasts.” Your entire body is aching with want, but your breasts are desperate to be touched. 
“I want so badly to touch you, I wish I was there. I want to put your breasts in my hands. Do that for me, please.” You do as he asks, kneading your breasts. “Open your mouth, baby, and take one of your fingers and get it wet. Now play with your nipple, tease it, circle it.” 
You moan as you tease yourself. “Yes. I want to hear you, tell me how good it feels. Show me how much you miss me.” 
“I need you, Spencer.” You groan as you lightly pinch your nipple. 
“I know, I know. I need you too.” On the other end of the phone, you can hear the sounds of him touching himself, slowly. He’s teasing himself just as much as he’s teasing you. “When I get home to you, I’m going to show you just how much I need you. I’m going to make you come with my fingers. With my tongue. Over and over again. And then I’ll finally give you my cock, just when you think you’ve had enough. And I’ll make you come one more time on my cock. Is that what you want, baby?” 
Your back arches off the bed, still playing with your breasts and nipples. “Yes, oh my god. I want it so bad.” 
“How bad, honey? Tell me, is your pussy dripping for me? ‘Cause you need me that bad.” 
Your dominant hand moves to your core, and you feel how soaked you are. “Yes. Yes. I need you. I’m so wet.” 
“Touch your clit, baby. Slow, do it slow for me at first. You know, just like I would.” 
Even though your eyes are already closed, you squeeze them closed tighter when you make contact with your clit. It’s practically throbbing and you exhale a sharp breath. “Oh my god, Spencer. I can’t. I need –” 
“Slow, yes you can. Take a deep breath, focus on my voice.” 
An uncontrolled moan escapes your throat, but you do as he says. You concentrate on his breaths over the phone, and you match yours to his. Then you match the rhythm of your hand to the sound of his as he ruts into his hand. You listen to his grunts and whimpers, both of you racing toward a needed release. 
He lets out a guttural sound. “Do you feel empty? Do you need to be filled?” 
“So bad, so bad.” 
“I’d fill you so good if I was there.” He groans, and you hear him lose his rhythm for a second as his hips falter. “Slip one of your fingers in. But with your other hand. I need you to keep rubbing that beautiful clit.” 
As you slowly push one finger into you, he continues to ramble. “I wish I was there to taste you. You taste so good, baby. I love how gorgeous you look when I’ve got my mouth on you. The way you grind your clit against my tongue because you’re so needy. So desperate to come.” 
Your finger pumps faster into you, the need and pleasure climbing higher within you as you buck your hips in time with the movement of your hands. You’re breathless, but you tell Spencer, “I’m so desperate.” 
“I know you are.” He groans. “Do you know how bad I need it too? Can you add another finger for me, baby? Fill yourself even more.” You clench against your two fingers. He’s panting into the phone, and you can picture the way his hair would be stuck to his forehead as he pounded into you, completely lost in the feeling of you squeezing him.
“I’m gonna come, baby.” You gasp out. You feel like you have no control over your body as though Spencer was completely in control even though it’s your fingers frantically stroking. 
“Are you? Are you going to make yourself come all over your fingers?” 
“Yes, I have to. I –” 
“Yeah, you do. You’re doing so well. I need to hear you come. I need to hear you be so good for me. Coming all over your fingers, all by yourself. But you’re thinking of me aren’t you?” 
“Yes… yes. Always.” 
“I can make you come so hard even when I’m not there. And you’re going to make a mess, a beautiful, perfect mess as you finish.” You moan loudly. “That’s it. Just like that.” He’s groaning and muttering, and you know he’s close too. “I wish I was coming in you, feeling you clench around me. And I’d rub that needy clit of yours, your nails would be scratching against my skin because you just can’t help yourself. Please come, baby. I need it.” 
You come with his name on your lips, your body clenches and shakes, and you listen closely to his climax. He lets out a shaky breath after a few moments. “I love you.” He says, and you hate that you can’t kiss him. 
“I love you too.” Your breathing slowly returns to normal. 
“Are you okay?” He checks in with you, and you smile as you roll onto your side and settle deeper into the bed, suddenly very tired. 
“I’m great. Are you?” You yawn. 
“Yes. Get some sleep, sweetheart.” 
“Come home soon.” 
“I’m coming home to you as soon as I possibly can. I can’t be apart from you like this.” 
“Neither can I. Talk to me until I fall asleep?” 
“Of course. Anything for you.”
tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx
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cat-toess · 8 months
Text
❀ LOVESICK PT.2 ❀
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Summary ✄: In which, Lyney finally decides to do something about his massive crush on you with the encouragement of his siblings.
✄ Part one here!: Lovesick part 1
Tags ✄: fluff, friends to lovers, mid-length (sort of) gn!reader (intended, I sincerely apologize if not, please message me if you find any mistakes in terms of this topic! I will do my best to improve my writing :D)
✄ Notes: This was so delayed 💀 And for once in my life my delulu brain had no more delusions to feed my stories with, so I was stuck for a while on the plot... But it turned out good in the end (?) LYNEY IS SUCH A SIMP. AND I'M NEVER LETTING THAT IDEA GO OUT OF MY HEAD
If you want you can listen to any Laufey song while reading this! (That's what I was listening to while creating this-)
P.S: I will be revising this even after this has been published, so if you find any grammatical errors then it might be fixed the next time you check <3 might even add paragraphs- so if you want, make sure to check in regularly!
✄ Ft. Lynette and Freminet's pain and suffering
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It’s been precisely a week since the very memorable encounter at the café with Lyney. And honestly Lynette thinks she can’t take another millisecond of her brother's endless rambles about how you ‘gently pulled him up, like he was fragile glass.’ And how ‘you two were about to kiss’ 
This had been going on for around 7 days, 20 minutes and 15 seconds. A good test of her patience, Lynette thinks to herself. 
Now even gentle and ever calm Freminet was staring to run away as soon a Lyney came anywhere from 2 to 5 meters near him. Just so he could avoid getting another earful about how ‘your presence could light up the whole of Fontaine”
It was getting unbearable for both Lynette and Freminet. They both constantly ate dinner in terror, and carefully selected their words, making sure to not make even the slightest gesture that could remind Lyney of your encounter with him. 
One time Lynette made the awful mistake of brining up Cafe Lucerene at the dinner table. 
Lynette was only half-way through finishing her sentence but Lyney was already talking. 
“Oh I could never forget that cafe, it’s the place where me and my darling Y/N met, who knows maybe we’ll get married there!” Lyney dreamily sighs, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. 
Lynette could only look apologetically to Freminet, who was close to a mental breakdown. And truth be told, Lynette was too. All the (sane) siblings could do was pray that this ramble ended short. 
They were sorely mistaken if they thought Lyney’s conversations about you would ever end short. 
Lyney ended up filling up 2 notebooks, full of wedding plans. All while he forced Lynette and Freminet to stay and discuss the flowers, the design of the wedding clothes, guests and even the date on which your wedding would take place. (He said February 14th, because what better day to be wed than the day of romance and love?)
“I don’t think I can take all this ranting for much longer” Lynette groans, rubbing her forehead, trying to relive the pounding headache she had from losing too much sleep, due to Lyney keeping her up to vent all his delusions to her. Lucky Freminet, she thought to no one in particular, he was able to avoid Lyney last night. (Not like he was in any better shape though) 
“Me too, maybe there’s a solution to this?” Poor Freminet, he looked like  a walking corpse. His movements dull and his mouth hanging open, like his soul was going to pop out of it and accend to celestia any minute now. 
“Yeah, and some how make Lyney shut up about ‘the love of his life’ for one second? Fat chance” Lynette grumbled. 
Freminet stared at his sister, trying to think of someway to solve their problems. All while Lyney angrily stirred a cup of tea. 
“Wait, if Lyney likes Y/N then wouldn’t all his ranting stop if he dates them?” Freminet says, deep in thought. 
“Huh? Wouldn’t that just increase the topics he can use to torment us with?” Lynette questions, finishing her tea in one violent gulp. 
“Well, maybe if they started dating, he would focus on complimenting them directly instead of picking us as his unfortunate victims? It’s worth a shot right?” 
“I suppose… though the chance of them reciprocating his feelings are close to none, at least he talks to them often…” Lynette scoffs as she adds a sugar cube to her custom design deep turquoise tea cup. 
“Right, we should try to convince him to ask Y/N on a date at dinner today. Maybe that’ll give us enough time to get some rest…” Freminet mumbles rubbing his nose bridge.
Poor Y/N, thought Lynette. Her spine exploding with shivers the moment she thought about what you would have to deal with if you got together with that brother of hers. 
Oh well, maybe you’d like it? 
——
It was dinner, the atmosphere was stiff and tense. Like someone had to say something (which was true) The only thing that could be heard was the small clinks of cutlery on plates. 
Freminet nods at Lynette to signal the start of their plan. Lynette gives a small thumbs up to Freimiet as he gets ready to confront his older brother to hopefully stop the endless rambling. 
”So Lyney, we wanted to talk about Y/N-“ Freminet nervously says. 
“Oh? Why didn’t you say so earlier? I caught a glimpse of them today in the opera house, and they were as stunning as ever-“ If he wasn’t cut off by Lynette, who knows how long he would have went on for? 
“Oh for crying out loud Lyney! We’re here to talk about when you’re going to ask them out!”  Lynette yells out while violently stabbing the meat steak on her plate. Her final string of sanity snapping. Her usually tranquil self no where to be seen. Perhaps it was because the hours of lost sleep.
“What Lynette means to say, is that we encourage you to ask them out.”  Freminet corrects while coughing into his fist. Praying that the rest of their plan would go smoothly. 
“Huh? Really? You think they’ll say yes?” Lyney says, voice barely above a whisper. The mere thought of you and him being an item makes his heart rapidly beat against his ribcage, his hands fidgeting and mind restless. 
Now if usually if Lynette saw her brother in a state like this, then new blackmail material would be collected. No questions asked. 
But under these circumstances Lynette couldn’t care less about black mail. Not with her sanity (and Freminet’s) on the line. 
“Then if I may ask , could you two help me to-“ Lyney says 
“No!” Freminet shouts, jumping up from his seat. Lyney surprised to see his brother like this quirks a brow at him, as if to silently ask if anything was wrong. 
“I mean, we think that it would be better if you planned it on your own. That way it’ll be more heartfelt because you did it yourself, right Lynette?”  He Hurriedly says as Lynette furiously shakes her head up and down. 
“I suppose so…thank you for always supporting me Lynette, Fremi, I don’t know what I would do without you two.” (I’m convinced that Lyney calls Freminet “Fremi” Fight me) Lyney beamed as he started to clean up the dishes and put them into the sink (do they have sinks in Fontaine? ) “Well I’m going to head up first and plan the date, after all, it has to be absolutely perfect!” Lyney gushed as he darted up the stairs, but then he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh I forgot to say but, I’ll leave the dishes to you Lynette!” He called, as he started running up the stairs again. 
“But it’s your turn to wash the dishes…” Lynette voice dies down in the middle as she realizes her brother is already gone, probably blushing and kicking his feet while planning whatever strange plan he was going to use to wiggle into your heart. Though Lynette doubted he could, not with that face. With a heavy sigh she goes to the kitchen to do the dishes, wishing that the dishes would magically be already be done by the time she arrived to the sink. No such luck. 
If he pulled this sort of stunt again, Lynette was more than happy to tell you that her brother had two moles and a scar on his left butt cheek that resembled a smiley face. 
—— 
Lyney had been thinking about ways to ask you out all night. The result? A bunch of crumbled pieces of paper overflowing his rooms trash can and a pair of heavy dark circles under his eyes. 
Inviting you to a romantic candle lit dinner and make it rain red roses? “No, too corny” he thinks as he shakes his head. Maybe you’d like it if he simply sent you a letter with a confession in it? No that was too basic, at least for Lyney’s liking. 
A groan escapes his lips, as he scratches out the possibility of the other ideas being successful. 
He tries to recall every time you’ve talked to each other. But all he can remember was you describing a dream where you went on a date with some mystery guy in a field of marcotte’s on top of a cliff where you could clearly see the sea. He also vividly recalls you saying how much you would love to go on a date like that… 
Wait! He could use that dream!
He silently scolds himself in his mind, wondering how he hand’t thought of this before. 
Well if this didn’t work he’ll always have plan 235XI-2A to back him up!
(Or his third personal favorite, 682BS-5J)
———
Now all he had to do was ask you out. He was deep in thought, trying to come up with a place you might be. He’s checked the Opera house and the shopping district. Where else could you possibly be?
Until suddenly he feels a soft tap on his shoulder. 
“Gha!” Lyney screeches, jumping back, almost like a surprised cat. (You know, when the cats suddenly see a cucumber behind them while they’re eating and just like 2 meters.) 
“Sorry, did I give you a scare?” You chuckle as you hold your hand to your mouth, desperately trying to suppress the laugh in your throat. 
The magician looks composed now on the outside but really, he’s convinced that his heart is beating at a 100 miles per hour. 
“Well, if it isn’t the ever charming Y/N” he tries to play it off cool, and succeeds but if you listen closely enough you could hear the slight waver in his voice. 
“Oh drop the compliments, we’re close enough to address each other casually right?” You dramatically sight, feigning hurt as you put your hand up to your forehead. Like a lead actor about to faint. 
“But anyway, what brings you here?” You say switching your tone to a firmer one.
“I actually came here to find you.” He says, taking in a deep breath to hopefully calm his nerves.
“Really? Whatever did I do to deserve the audience of the great magician of Fontaine.”  You joke, clapping your hands together. “Is it Lynette? Did she want more tea-“
“Iacctuallywantedtoaskyouonadate-“ His rushed words go through your left ear and fall right through your right ear. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Lyney slow down. I couldn’t grasp a single word you just said.”  You tell him, his earlier sentence sounding more like a cursed language more than anything.  
You notice that his face is flushed in a deep shade of crimson out of embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, what I meant to say is, I was wondering if you were free this afternoon?” He says coughing into his fist, finally mustering up the courage to say something to cover up his mistake.
Now it’s your turn to get flustered, because as soon as he says that you’re getting butterflies in your stomach. Your mind blanks out for a second, all rational thoughts exiting your brain. The only thing you can hear at the moment is the loud thumping of your heart.
You somehow get a response out of your mouth, mirraculaously you didn’t stumble over your words! 
“Sure, dose 4 sound good to you?” You inquire, pulling out your pocket sized planner, double checking if you had any other plans for the evening. 
“Sounds good to me. I’ll pick you up at your house?” Lyney says timidly. Thanking all of the gods above and their grandmothers that you had accepted his date offer. 
“Mhm, I’m all right with that. See you then I guess?” You say as you start to head back, craining your neck backwards a little to give a small wave to Lyney. 
“Yeah.” Lyney says, standing there and waving at you like a fool. Slightly dazed still processing the fact that his long time crush, the person that he was hopelessly in love with was going on a date with him in 3 hours. 
———
The sun was setting, and you were in your room, waiting for a certain blonde to knock on your door. The ticking of your clock seems to be mocking your eagerness. 
It had just turned 4, and as if right on cue you hear a soft know on your brich door. 
Practically sprinting towards the door, you skid through the halls of your home and swing the door open. 
Lyney was, dressed in a plain ruffled dress shirt, paired with a harness made of black leather. His pants of course, were black too, simple with no designs in it. Topped off with simple black laced boots. It was weird to see him without his signature hat. Of course, it goes without saying Lyney looked good in his usual magician attire, but change is always welcome. 
“Ready to go?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. 
“Yeah, It’s just that seeing you without your hat is a little odd, but nice odd. You know?” You muse, trailing your eyes over his figure. 
In response to that Lyney lets out a merry chuckle. 
“Before we go, can you put this blindfold on?” He asks, holding up a blindfold.
You look at the magician suspiciously and quirk a brow at him. “You’re not going to kidnap me right?” Slightly nervous about the whole surprise thing.
“Of course not! I just want to keep the inaction a surprise.” He says giving you a little comforting pat on the shoulder.
“Well, I suppose it’s all right. But I’m running away at the first sign of danger okay?” You sigh, reluctantly letting Lyney’s slender fingers tie the black silky blindfold over your eyes. 
“No peaking, okay?” He purrs as he tugs on your arm.
——
After a while of walking and talking Lyney halts to a stop. 
“We’re here.” He hums as he slowly unties the blindfold. 
It takes you a moment to adjust to your surroundings, since you had been blindfolded for like, what? 6 minutes? 
But as soon as your surroundings come into focus, the scene in front of you literally steals your breathe away. 
“You did all this for me” You gasp, looking around the venue which Lyney had guided you too. “Ta-da.” He sheepishly says, while softly scratching the back of his head. You two were in a felid of marcotte’s, the grass sways with every soft caress of the wind. Soon you noticed the meadow was located on a cliff, and below was the deep and ever beautiful ocean of Fontaine. The tidalga’s littered benethe made the ocean’s surface appear as if thousands of blue lights were iluminating the area. 
The wind was strong but not too strong, the mixed scent of the salty sea and the sweet aroma of the marcotte flowers smelled heavenly. You looked up to the Colbat blue sky. You could clearly see the stars, each star shining with a brilliant yellow. Under the delicate light of the moonlight, Lyney though you never looked more dreamy. For a moment you stood their in disbelief, it was as if this date was pulled straight from your dreams. The dream that you had told Lyney about. It was perfect. 
“I don’t even know what to say… It’s remarkable Lyney. I can’t believe that you remember me talking about my dream” You gush, as you feel the uncontrollable smile etching itself on your lips. 
“What’s a magician without his fair share of surprises?” Lyney chuckles as he hops over to you. 
A comfortable silence envelopes the two of you. The waves splashing quietly in the background. 
“You know, I actually invited you here to confess something to you…” Lyney bashfully says, his body restless as he prays to the heavens that this would go well. 
“Really? What is it” You say, as you tilt your head to the side. 
Why was his voice stuck in his throat? What was he doing? He practiced his lines millions if not billions of times in front of the mirror, so why couldn’t he do it now? 
You stare at him with a perplexed expression while leaning forward. As if you were eager to hear his confession. 
Oh screw the script, this magician’s improvising. 
“When I first met you, I was enamored by your laugh, your voice and no matter how much I thought on how to confess to you, no words could come close to describing how I truly feel for you.” Lyney paused for a moment to put together his thoughts for one moment. Trying to think of a worthy phrase to describe his undying adoration for you. He takes a deep breath in as he continues “If I had a flower for every time I had thought of you, I would only have one. Because not once have I stopped thinking about you since the day we met. I understand if you don’t reciprocate my feelings, yet my mind keeps lingering back to the thoughts of you and me together.” The words from his mouth spill over like a waterfall, genuine and poetic language flying towards you left and right. 
 “So, Y/N L/N, will you please accept my feelings?” He imagined the confession to be smooth and romantic, he promised himself to be calm and cool. Yet, here he was, face flushed and breathing irregular. Eagerly waiting for an answer. He curses himself for looking like an absolute idiot around you. 
In reality, it’s only been a few seconds, but to Lyney it felt like an eternity. His pupils flying on ever direction, his plans already clammy from the anxiety. 
“I would be delighted to” You beam, taking his hand in yours. 
“Really?” He says, eyes practically turning into stars, you could swear that they turned all glittery for one second. 
“Yes really” You smile, laughing at the usually suave and confident magician's expression. An expression you’ll probably remember for the rest of your life. 
You could audibly hear the loud sigh of relief he let out when you confirmed your answer. 
The two of you continue to stare at each other for a good minute. Then all of a sudden Lyney lets out a little snort. Then you chuckle a little. Before you know it, the meadow is filled with lively laughter. The two of you chasing each other over the rolling green grass, like a pair of idiots. Twirling each other around like one would in a royal ball. Giggles and snickers flowing through the surrounding area. 
Even better, the two of you acted out multiple of your favorite scenes in operas. One of them being the all-time famous Titanic pose (pretend titanic exists for the sake of my heart) Only problem being you nearly falling off the edge of the cliff and letting out a blood-curdling scream that sent the birds in the area desperately flapping their wings to find someplace that was maybe… less chaotic. 
Time flies when you’re with someone you like they say, turns out that old saying is true. Because by the time you both knew it, it was already 10PM
Exhausted, you both flop on the grass, face up to the shimmering stars. Intertwining fingers together both of you deicide to rest a little. 
“You know, you remind me of the moon.” Lyney suddenly says as he points to the glowing moon, breaking the silence. 
“Mhm, why is that?” You question, looking at Lyney with curious eyes. 
“If you're the moon, then I’ll gladly be your tide, for I will forever flow under your command. Following your ever wish and will. For you are my purpose, are you not?” Lyney hums, you hate how he can say something so… romantic (?) so casually. 
“You’re so corny.”  You sarcastically sigh, rolling your eyes. 
“But you love this corny guy right?” 
How could you say no to that face? 
——— 
Now by the time the cackling had settled down, the suns light was long gone and instead a pitch black darkness had replaced it. 
So being the gentleman Lyney is, he offered to walk you home. 
The two of you started talking about 
“Ah, we’re here now.” You say, a small amount of sadness laced in your voice. "Well I have to go now, have a safe trip back home." You sigh disappointed that the date had already ended.
“Oh! Before I forget.. here.” Lyney magically makes a marcotte flower appear in his hands with a snap of his fingers. 
“Think of it like a souvenir of our first date.” He giggled, twirling his hair. He seems somehow happier then you, even though you’re the one receiving the flower (?) 
Well that’s Lyney for you, I guess. 
“Lyney, is this from the field that we went to? “ You say happily, spinning the vermilion and yellow colored flower between your fingers. 
“Maybe.” He says while throwing in a playful wink.
You slowly open your door and just as about you’re about to go inside you look back. 
“I’ll be looking forward to our next date pretty boy.” You say pulling him in for a little peck on the cheek. (Y/N mega rizzler arc coming soon?!)
Just a moment ago you were the one being all shy, now Lyney’s here too stunned to speak. The combination of your lips on his cheek and that pet name? He swears you’ll be the death of him one day. 
You give him a little wave, before closing the door behind you with a click. 
Now if it were any normal person, they would just go home and celebrate their successful date. Celebrate the fact that they didn’t get brutally rejected. 
But no, this is Lyney. 
He ended up standing in front of your door for 15 minutes, just stroking the place where you had kissed him. 
He makes a mental note to put a bag over his cheek for the next few days. 
Call him unhygienic but hey, love can make one blind right? 
“Hey mom, look! There’s a guy standing in front of Y/N’s house!” A child passing by shouts, pointing at Lyney. 
“Shhh! Don’t look! We’ll report it to the melusines later…” The mother whispers as she ushers her son away from Lyney. 
Yeah, he should probably head home soon before anyone else mistakes him for a creepy stalker. 
——
Lyney walks home with a dopey little grin on his face, he opens the door to his house and swings the door open. Kicking his shoes off, he hurriedly runs to the living room where his siblings were most likely having dinner, feet practically skidding to a halt when he reaches to his destination. 
“Hey guess what-“  Lyney says his voice bubbling with excitement to tell his siblings about the successful confession (that he had spent days planning) 
“I’m sorry” Lynette says without looking up from her food. 
“What?” Lyney stands still for a few seconds as he tilts his head owlishly. 
“They rejected you right?” Lynette says as she takes a bite out of her mashed potatoes. 
“Uh no?” Lyney says visibly confused. 
“See I told you, that’s 50,000 mora Lynette.” Freminet sighs, standing up from the dinner table and trudging away to his room. 
“Damn it… I was so sure…” Lynette mutters as her cat tail droops down. Standing up and obviously looking disappointed, she puts her dishes away, walking back up stairs. 
“Wait? Lynnette? Fremi? 50,000 mora? Your eldest demands an explanation! Hey answer me!” Lyney says as he franticly looks around, only to be met with silence…
That is until Lynette pops her head from the stair case  with a devilish expression her face. 
“I’ll leave the dishes to you Lyney” She snickers as she hurries away,leaving Lyney to himself grumbling about how “he isn’t respected enough in this household”  and that “it was Lynettes turn to do the dishes” But he finds himself a blushing mess all over again when he recalls the events of tonight. 
Yeah, you probably shouldn’t tell him that you made the marcotte he gave you into a dry flower. Or else he might combust…
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❀ a/n: GARRHHHH, this took so long. I apologize for the wait! Thank you so much for your support in part 1! I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoyed part 1! Heads up to those who want to request anything please check my navigation to find my requests page!
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Some of my other posts with Lyney...
❁ Lyney Hcs
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❀ Taglist: @alisstaa,@a-traveling-void-human,@agentaspect,@chuu-o3o, @literaryhomos, @canuleavelol, @rebeccawinters, @just-a-ghost-named-echo, @angelofdarkness2, @emburning, @sketcheeee, @toramune, @kithewanderingme, @w9vyy, @karma-gisa, @mizokowashere, @azharyy,@auspicious-lilana, @n8mareee, @sammybeefangirls
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@cat-toess 2023 please do not plagiarize or copy on other sites <3 Reblogs are appreciated, but please give credit :D if you have feedback please refrain from being offensive <3
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726 notes · View notes
runninriot · 2 months
Text
Inspired by the prompt Love is saying "I love you" even when you're scared by @quinns-shadowy-arts for @steddielovemonth day 20
Give and Take
wc: 1737 | rated: t | cw: mentions of drinking and smoking weed | tags: Hurt Feelings (past), Fear of Rejection, Eddie realises he has a crush on Steve, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers
  
Eddie is just about to leave when Wayne calls after him. Tells him not to stay out too late and to say Hi to Steve. And then he ends how he always does, never lets Eddie go without:
„Love ya, son."
Eddie smiles, gives his uncle an affirming nod before making his way out of the door.
He's heard it so many times now, these words his uncle says so easily, and he wished he could do the same.
It's something Eddie struggles with a lot; telling people he loves them is generally scary as shit.
Because in his experience, to love means to hurt because loving always comes with a price, a piece of your heart you give away with no chance of getting it back.
He’s given away too many of those.
Gave a piece to his mother when he was six. Proudly holding up the card his teacher helped him write for mother’s day. “I love you, mommy” it said on the heart-shaped paper and Eddie smiled, toothless and wide. Got a dead-eyed glare in return when she threw it on top of a pile of unopened letters. Not saying a word, not even acknowledging his extra neat hand-writing or the colourful flowers he’d drawn on the back.
He gave one piece to Jenny in grade 6. The girl with the blue eyes and rosy cheeks who was always so nice to him. One day after school she took his hand and kissed him on the cheek. Eddie felt like flying, told her he liked her a lot, thinking she might feel the same. But Jenny just scrunched her nose, pure disgust written on her face when she told him “Eww, no. It was just a dare.”
He lost a large piece in high school, gave it to Nick. The pretty boy with the seductive smile who dragged him behind the bleachers and stuck his tongue down Eddie’s throat. The kiss was too wet and too sloppy but Eddie thought maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Let Nick push him to his knees and willingly opened up wide. Not once, not twice, it went on for a month. And Eddie felt wanted but apparently wanted too much when he asked him to be his boyfriend.
Eddie learned to keep his mouth shut. To keep the remaining pieces to himself.
-🖤-
Steve is already waiting in his car that’s parked outside the Munson’s home, waving happily when he sees Eddie step outside.
They’ve made plans to spend the evening at Lover’s Lake, have a couple of beers and maybe a smoke while watching the sunset.
They do that often, just hanging out together. Enjoying the long summer days and each other’s company.
It’s always nice to spend time with Steve because with him Eddie never has the feeling he needs to tone himself down. Can ramble and rant, can be as loud and impulsive as he naturally is without having to worry about scaring him off. Steve never makes him feel bad about himself, accepts Eddie as he is.
Being with Steve always feels right.
They get along. They’re friends now. And the more time Eddie spends with Steve, the more he understands him, sees him.
He’s vulnerable, like Eddie. Has had his fair share of people misjudging him based on what they see on the outside. Where people assume Eddie is scary and mean, they think of Steve as being strong but dumb. Where they think Eddie’s only interests are metal and nerd games, they think Steve’s life revolves around nothing but sports and girls.
But Eddie knows better. Knows all of Steve’s layers.
Sure, Steve does love his silly ball games (something Eddie will never understand) but he also loves to cook and bake. He hates the taste of ginger and is afraid of moths. He can’t sleep with his back turned to the door and he likes the sound of heavy rain pounding against the window. He hates to read but he loves to listen if someone takes the time to read to him.
Eddie cherishes Steve’s honesty. The way he’s not afraid to ask questions if he doesn’t understand something. The way he’ll tell you, straight forward, when you’re being unreasonable.
Eddie likes the way his eyes sparkle when he’s happy. Likes the way Steve snorts when he laughs really hard. Eddie likes the snappy tone he uses when someone (usually Dustin) gets on his nerves. He likes Steve's fierceness, and his courage, and how much he cares.
Liking Steve is easy because he’s a genuinely nice guy with a big heart who never lets his friends down and always gives so much.
Eddie feels lucky to have him in his life, would give everything to keep him there.
-🖤-
They are lying side by side on a blanket, their minds comfortably buzzed from the joint they shared, while the sun sets over Lover’s Lake, painting their bodies in a dark orange hue. A gentle breeze caresses their exposed skin, just a warm touch of air drifting over their sun warmed bodies.
It’s quiet out here, now that most of the people that came to enjoy a day at the lake have already gone home.
Eddie thoughtlessly turns his head to look at Steve who is lying there with his eyes closed, basking in the tranquillity of the moment. Calm and content, so still and at peace. So different from his usual demeanour – always alert, always a little tense, always ready to step in if someone requires his help.
He's... beautiful like that.
And suddenly it is like something snaps in Eddie's brain.
He can’t tear his eyes away, lets them wander over Steve’s soft features and the expanse of his body. Wonders, foolishly, what Steve’s skin would feel like underneath his fingertips, what it would be like to hold him, maybe even get a taste of his lips.
    Oh no. Oh fuck.
Something in his gut coils and twists, ripples through him like an electric shock wave when the realisation hits.
It was inevitable, really, and maybe deep down he already knew for much longer than he’d ever admit.
It’s a bitter truth to accept but the confession comes easy now that he allows his heart to speak.
He’s in love with Steve.
Can’t have him, clearly. But that’s just how it is. That’s always how it is.
Eddie turns his head back, eyes pinched close in frustration as he tries to breathe through the stinging pain in his chest. His heart pumps so fast it makes him dizzy, makes him feel a little like spinning on a carousel that’s going too fast.
    SHIT! Eddie thinks or did he said it out loud? Because Steve startles beside him and Eddie can feel him ruffling at their shared blanket when he moves.
   “Eddie? What’s wrong?”
Eddie looks back at Steve who’s suddenly so much closer than he was before –  brows pinched together in question, with small worry lines showing on his forehead, his face hovering over Eddie’s.
   “I just realised something,” Eddie answers too honest, doesn’t know where to go from here but he can’t find it in him to lie.
    “Oh,” Steve breathes out, his expression softening as the seconds pass. “Wanna talk about it?”
   “Uh, I- no. I’d rather not.”
The look Steve gives him shouldn’t sent him spiralling even more but goddamn does he look cute with that stupid smirk tugging at his lips.
Eddie wants to bite him, feels a deep red blush take hold of his face. Maybe he can put it off as a sun burn?
   “Who knew that the great Eddie Munson could be so timid?” Steve jokes and okay.
So much for trying to play it cool.
   “I’m not-“ Eddie takes a deep breath, “It’s just something I can’t tell you.”
Steve sits up and without being prompted, Eddie does the same. For a moment they just look at each other.
   “You know you can tell me everything.”
If Eddie didn’t know better, he’d think there’s something like disappointment ringing in Steve’s voice.
   “Yeah, hah, uh- not this, I guess.”
Eddie looks away, can’t hold Steve’s gaze. Nervously he starts to play with the rings on his fingers until a warm hand stops him, causing him to look back up.
   “Try me.” Steve’s voice is soft and Eddie knows he can trust him but-
    No.
He can’t. This isn’t worth losing him over. Eddie knows how this is going to go. He can’t give anymore pieces away.
   “I-“
Only now Eddie realises Steve’s hand is still resting on his own, his thumb gently rubbing circles over the back of it.
Steve has never touched him like this before, so tender it almost doesn’t feel real.
   “I like you a lot, Steve.” The words sputter out before he can even try to hold them back.
Eddie winces, tries to avert his gaze but before he can turn his head to the side there’s a hand on his cheek and a firm press of lips on his mouth and-
Eddie can taste weed, and beer, and the chips they shared. Steve’s breath is hot as he sighs into the kiss, his lips are plush and soft... they’re so fucking soft Eddie feels like sinking right into them.
He allows his eyes to flutter close as he deepens the kiss, wants more of the taste, more of Steve. His hands find their way to Steve’s hips, digging and pulling like he just can’t help himself, needs Steve closer.
They part when their startled laughter breaks the tension as Steve tumbles ungraciously on top of Eddie, looking down at him with glistening eyes.
   “Fuck, Steve.” Eddie feels giddy, breathless.
   “Yeah. Fuck.” Now it is Steve’s turn to blush.
Somehow their lips find their way back to each other, like it’s easy. And maybe it is.
Maybe it is easy because they both want it.
   “Want you, Eddie. Wanted you for so long but I was scared to tell you that I-“ Steve inhales shakily.
Maybe they both feel the same?
   “I love you, Steve.”
This isn’t just a piece. This is his whole heart he holds it out for Steve to take, hoping that this time, he’ll maybe get something in return.
Eddie holds his breath, feels cold sweat running down his spine as he waits for a rejection that never comes.
   “I love you, Eddie.”
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steveseddie · 2 months
Text
with a cold breeze
rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 4,281
tags: eddie munson lives, didn't know they were dating, getting together, first kiss, fluff and hurt/comfort
for the @steddielovemonth prompt: “love is giving him your sweater even if it makes you cold” by @stevesbipanic
a/n: this is my first time writing a prompt for this event and it was so much fun! also this ended up longer than i thought but. enjoy 🩷
click here to read on ao3
***
In Eddie’s defense, he shouldn’t have been expected to bring a jacket. Not when Steve didn’t tell him where they were going or when he sent Eddie spiraling into a pit of pining by showing up at his doorstep with a white shirt tucked into a pair of tight blue jeans and a black jacket thrown on top, looking like he stepped out of Eddie’s dreams.
Now that he thinks about it, Steve might’ve told him to grab a jacket, but Eddie was too busy picking his jaw off the floor to listen to him.
When he stepped out of the trailer and followed Steve to his car, Eddie felt a light chill in the air, but since he assumed Steve was taking them to the movies or for dinner at that diner he likes, he figured the flannel he was wearing over his Metallica singlet would be enough to withstand it. 
Eddie doesn’t know exactly when this became a thing they did- Steve picking him up and taking him to dinner or a movie or ice cream or roller skating. 
(That last one was Eddie’s least favorite one because he spent half the time they were there falling on his ass. Or maybe it wasn’t, because the other half was spent holding on to Steve’s hand as he guided Eddie around the rink and helped him keep his balance.)
Eddie still can’t help but feel surprised whenever Steve turns up at his door, even if it happens multiple times a week these days. He knows this is what friends do, but maybe it’s still just a little hard to believe that he’s friends with Steve Harrington. 
(“You make it sound like I’m some kind of celebrity, man,” Steve said the first time Eddie voiced his shock about him wanting to spend time with Eddie. 
“Dude, you are the king of Hawkins! You are a celebrity!” Eddie said, dramatically shaking Steve’s shoulders which earned him a mighty eye roll and a playful shove. “And celebrities don’t want to spend time with freaks like me.”
Steve’s face softened at that, he bumped Eddie’s shoulder with his. “Well, this one does.”)
Eddie knows Steve is being genuine every time he says he wants to hang out, but a part of him always expects Steve to get tired of him and ditch Eddie, and start taking a nice pretty girl on these outings instead. 
(“Dates, they’re dates,” Max deadpanned after hearing Eddie ramble about Steve for roughly ten minutes straight. She’d clocked Eddie’s feelings for Steve right away when he came back from the roller rink with his backside bruised, but still with a dopey smile on his face to Max waiting for him at the steps of his trailer. “Steve Harrington is taking you out on dates!” 
“He’s not, they’re not dates,” Eddie said with a firm shake of his head. 
“Dude, Lucas literally took me to the roller rink last week.” 
“Aw, cute. Did he hold your hand?” 
“I held his, I skate, remember? And for a jock, he’s got terrible balance,” she says, lips twitching into a little smile. “Not as bad as yours though.” 
“Hey!”)
Even if Max insists on calling them dates, Eddie won’t. He can’t. He knows Steve doesn’t see them that way so he can’t do it either, not if he wants to protect his heart. 
So he ignores that Steve opens the door to his car for him like he would if this was a real date and he ignores that he lets Eddie pick the music or that he keeps a few of Eddie’s tapes in his car for him to choose from, even if they’re not at all what he likes, and he ignores the way he keeps glancing at Eddie at stop signs or red lights with a sweet little smile that makes his stomach swoop like when he went through the gate to the Upside Down did, only better. 
Or he tries to ignore it, at least.
“Soooo where are we going?” Eddie asks, contorting himself so he can sit cross-legged in Steve’s passenger seat after picking the music for the ride. 
Steve bops his head to the beginning of a Dio song and Eddie can’t help but feel proud. 
“It’s a surprise,” he says. 
Eddie groans. “Is this surprise also going to end up with me not being able to sit properly for a week?” He only realizes how that sounds when Steve’s head snaps to him, eyebrows high on his forehead. God. “You know cause I kept falling on my ass at the roller rink, not because- uh.” 
He doesn’t know how to finish the sentence, but luckily Steve spares him. With a soft laugh, he says, “Don’t worry, you won’t have trouble sitting after tonight.” Then Steve smirks, the little shit. “From falling on your ass- or some other reason.” 
Eddie flushes bright red.
He lowers the window and shivers when the cold air hits his face, but the wind helps cool down his flushed cheeks so he leaves it open. He notices that instead of driving them downtown, Steve is driving them further out. 
“I’m not gonna have trouble sitting ‘cause you’re luring me into the woods to murder me? Is that it?”
“And why would I want to murder you?” Steve asks, pinching the bridge of his nose like entertaining Eddie’s nonsense causes him physical pain. 
The wind blows Eddie’s hair away from his face. “Maybe you’re jealous of my luscious hair.” He hopes the wind makes him look like one of those cover shoots on the magazines that he sees at the store, but realistically, he knows he probably looks like a dog sticking his head out the window. “My naturally beautiful hair that doesn’t need any Farrah Fawcett spray.” 
Steve narrows his eyes at Eddie. “That little shit told you!” 
Eddie grins. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. Dustin told you, didn’t he?” 
“I won’t reveal my sources,” he says, pretending to zip up his lips. 
“You don’t have to, you dork. Dustin is the only one I told.” He pauses, thinking. “Maybe I am committing murder tonight.”
“Mine?”
“Henderson’s. And then yours so the secret dies with you.” He glances at Eddie with a smile. “And maybe because I am a little jealous of your beautiful hair.” His voice is a little too soft to sound like a joke.
Eddie gives him a shy smile and then flicks his hair over his shoulder with a dramatic flare. Steve laughs, head thrown back, as they drive past the Leaving Hawkins sign. 
***
Steve drives them to the top of a hill just outside of Hawkins. 
Eddie’s first thought when Steve parks his car next to a little forest is that maybe he’s actually planning to murder him tonight. 
His second thought comes when Steve opens Eddie’s door and a gust of wind hits Eddie, making him realize that no, his flannel won’t be enough. He’s going to freeze his ass off so even if Steve doesn’t murder him, Eddie will die anyway. 
His third thought comes when Steve takes hold of his wrist and drags him out of the car and towards a cliff overlooking most of Hawkins.
Eddie voices that thought with an appreciative whistle.
“Holy shit, that’s a killer view.”
“Right?” Steve asks with a grin. His fingers are still wrapped around Eddie’s wrist and he can feel the way he’s bouncing excitedly from one foot to the other. 
“Yeah, wow. You wouldn’t think that Hawkins is a shit town from up here,” Eddie says, taking in not only the night lights, but the stars above them too, shining brighter than Eddie has ever seen them.
“Yeah, it almost looks normal, no monsters or alternate dimensions.”
“No hordes of angry town people who want to burn you at the stake.” 
Steve gives Eddie’s wrist a comforting squeeze. He glances at the ground. “No shitty parents calling you a disappointment and an embarrassment,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. 
Eddie frowns. He shakes his hand until Steve loosens his hold, but before he can retreat it into his pocket because he thinks Eddie is trying to get him to let go, he tangles his fingers loosely with Steve’s. “They came back tonight?” 
Steve stares down at their hands, his thumb rubs over one of Eddie’s rings. “Yeah, and they managed to pick a fight within five minutes of walking through the door. Must be some kind of record.”
Eddie squeezes his hand. “I’m sorry, Steve.” 
With a sigh, Steve finally looks up. “It’s not your fault, and besides-” He smiles at Eddie. “I didn’t bring you here to talk about them.” 
Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “What did you bring me here for?” 
Steve’s smile turns into a grin, he drops Eddie’s hand and starts walking backward toward the car. “Wait here.” 
“You better not be abandoning me to die here!” 
He gets no reply. Eddie squints at him as he rummages through the trunk of his car but it’s a little hard to see clearly in the dark. He wraps his arms around himself while he waits, feeling colder by the second, and resists the urge to ask Steve if he has an extra jacket lying around. It’ll send him into Mother Hen mode and he’ll start fussing about Eddie catching something and probably scold him for not bringing his own jacket. 
So he acts as nonchalant as possible about the cold when Steve comes back, hiding something behind his back that Eddie can’t see. 
“I didn’t bring you here to murder you or abandon you. I brought you here to have a picnic with me.” As he says this, he shows Eddie what he was holding behind his back- a checkered blanket and a goddamn picnic basket. 
Eddie blinks dumbly at the two items and then at Steve, mouth gaping like a fish. “A picnic?” 
Steve nods a little shyly. “Um yeah, is that okay?” 
Eddie lets out a disbelieving laugh. A fucking picnic under the stars- oh, Max is going to have a field trip teasing Eddie about this one!
He realizes that Steve might be taking his reaction the wrong way when he starts to fidget so Eddie wipes the surprise from his face and grins at Steve. “Depends on what you packed in there, big boy.” 
A high-pitched laughter tumbles out of Steve’s lips and even with just the moonlight he can see his cheeks tint pink. “Well, do you like grilled cheese?”
***
Eddie makes grabby hands at the basket. Once Steve spreads the blanket on the ground, he flops down and starts digging through the contents.
There’s grilled cheese wrapped in tin foil paper, two bags of chips, two sodas, and a big serving of pie. Eddie’s mouth waters. 
“So,” Steve asks, wrapping his arms around his knees. “What do you think?” 
“I think,” Eddie pauses, thinking. “That I don’t care if you murder me as long as you let me eat this first.” 
“You’re so annoying,” Steve snorts, rolling his eyes.
“If I’m so annoying,” Eddie says, neatly arranging the food between them on the blanket, or as best as he can on the uneven ground. “Then why did you go through all this trouble for little ol’ me?”
Steve bites the inside of his cheek. He looks like he wants to say something, but then changes his mind, only to part his lips again. The look in his eyes betrays nothing, no matter how much Eddie tries to read it. Despite the cold, Eddie’s hands start to sweat a little. 
But then Steve shakes his head and looks down, picking up his grilled cheese. When he looks back at Eddie again, his eyes are soft, crinkling at the corners, but whatever he saw in them before is now gone. “Let’s eat before it gets cold, okay?”
After the first bite, Eddie discovers that Steve must be some kind of grilled cheese genius. When he tells Steve this, he waves it off with a shy smile, but he seems pleased. 
They talk in between bites of food, or in Eddie’s case, through mouthfuls of melted cheese. The whole time, Eddie tries to ignore the chill in the air, but every gust of wind reminds him he’s only wearing a singlet under a very thin flannel and neither does much to protect him from the cold. Still, he does his best to hide his shivering from Steve, but it’s a little hard to do when Steve won’t take his eyes off of him for some reason.
Right now, he’s staring almost unblinkingly at Eddie with his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms wrapped around his knees, a soft smile painted on his lips as Eddie tells him how excited he and the kids are about the next Hellfire meeting. 
“You’re always excited about your nerdy game,” Steve smirks. 
“Fair, but this time it’s different because the kids finally convinced Max to play!” 
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “How did they manage that?”
“Well, they didn’t convince her so much as they tricked her into it.” 
“Yeah, that makes more sense.” 
“But! It doesn’t matter cause she’s going to love it so much she’ll beg to join again! I’ve been working on her character sheet to make it perfect for her and I got her this cool set of dice- red dice, of course, cause her character will be called Ruby. Ruby the Rebel.”
Steve’s smile turns impossibly softer at Eddie’s excited rambling. “That sounds just as cool as her. What kind of- uh like, what’s her-”
“Class?” Eddie asks, stomach swooping a little at Steve trying to remember things about their nerdy game so he can ask Eddie. Steve nods. “Oh, she’s a-” He cuts himself off when a cool breeze stirs beneath his flannel and he shivers with a curse. “Jesus H. Christ!” 
Steve startles and his head whips in different directions, looking out for danger. “What?” 
“Sorry, nothing! It’s just really cold! Sorry!” 
Steve relaxes, then frowns. Narrowed eyes travel over Eddie’s body. “Wait, where’s your jacket?” 
“Uh.”
“Did you leave it in the car?” 
“More like, left it at home?” Steve’s face turns pinched. “You didn’t tell me where we were going, I didn’t know I would need a jacket!” 
“Yes, you did, I told you to bring one!” Steve says, exasperated. 
Oh. So Steve did tell him to bring a jacket. Huh. 
“Here,” Steve says and then starts shrugging off his jacket. 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m giving you my jacket, obviously.” He removes it completely and Eddie gives himself a second to commit to memory just how tight Steve’s white shirt is. It’s also thin. Eddie shakes his head. 
“But you’ll be cold.” 
“I won’t.” He shrugs. “I run hot.”
“You’re hot,” Eddie says and realizes too late that his brain-to-mouth filter must’ve been damaged by the cold. “I mean you look hot, like you don’t look cold.”
Steve bites down on a grin. “Take the jacket before you catch something, Eds.” 
“O-kay, mom Steve.” He accepts the jacket, and when he puts it on, he can’t help but sigh happily. It’s warm from Steve’s body heat. It also smells just like him. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Steve smiles. “Now, what were you saying?” He asks and it takes Eddie a minute to remember what they were talking about, distracted as he is by Steve’s warmth and smell surrounding him.
***
“Do you ever think about leaving Hawkins?” 
Eddie jerks his head back, out of the basket where he was looking for the forks that Steve packed for the pie. “Uh, like, every day of my life, man.” 
“Because of Vecna?”
“No, long before that.” Eddie finds the fork. Singular. “You only packed one, Stevie, but I can just use my fingers.” He wiggles them and Steve shakes his head. 
“We can share,” he says. Alarms go off in Eddie’s head at the thought of passing the fork back and forth between them, sharing the slice of pie. He hasn’t been to that many dates in his life, but sharing dessert sounds a lot like a date thing.
“Sure,” he says, shrugging casually. Steve takes the first bite and hands it to Eddie. “Anyway, yeah. I always knew I wanted to leave. Knowing that there’s an alternate dimension at our feet that could pop up the next monster at any second only made the urge stronger, but. Gotta graduate first.”
“Where will you go? When you graduate?” 
“I don’t know. Some big city with a cool music scene, maybe. I can join a band that’s actually going somewhere.” He snorts. “No offense to Corroded Coffin.” 
Steve chuckles. “I’ve always thought you belong in some big city.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asks with an arched eyebrow.
“Yeah, dude, you’ve always seemed- I don’t know, too big for Hawkins,” he says with an awed tone. Eddie’s throat feels dry, he skips the next bite of pie, giving it back to Steve. “Like you should be somewhere with people as loud and talented and great as you.”
Eddie swallows thickly. His eyes haven’t left Steve’s face, but Steve isn’t looking at him, instead he’s staring ahead at Hawkins or maybe like he’s trying to see even further than that. Eddie’s glad he’s not looking at him, he doesn’t even know what his face is doing right now, listening to Steve talk about him like that, there’s probably hearts in his eyes or something.
“I- I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” Eddie says to break the silence. Steve hums like he thinks it’s a good idea. “What about you, Steve? Do you think about leaving?”
“Sometimes. I- I’ve actually been saving up money to go to college. Nothing prestigious like Nance or Robin, just community college maybe.”
“That’s great, Steve,” Eddie says.
“But I don’t think I can leave until I know it’s over, you know? The Upside Down, especially if the kids are still going to be here.”
“Yeah, I’ve thought about that. Kinda makes you want to steal another RV, pack them all up and leave Hawkins for good.”
Steve meets his eyes finally. He smiles. “Yeah, exactly.”
“I think we could do it,” Eddie says, entertaining the thought for a moment. 
“You don’t think we’d end up in jail? For grand theft auto and kidnapping children?”
“Shh, let a guy dream, Harrington.”
“Okay, okay,” Steve says, holding up his hands in defense. “You know I haven’t told anyone about saving up for college. Just you.”
“Not even Buckley?”
Steve shakes his head. “I already failed once trying to get in. I don’t want anyone to know that I’ve failed again. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”
Eddie thinks about what Steve said when they got here, about the fight with his parents, about them calling Steve a disappointment. “You could never disappoint me. Or Buckley or the kids. We all worship the ground you walk on, King Steve.”
“Shut up,” Steve says with a lighthearted shove to Eddie’s shoulder. “You don’t.”
“We do! Because we know just how good and badass you are, and whoever can’t see that is a butthead.”
“Are you calling my parents buttheads?” Steve asks with a barely concealed snort. 
“That’s exactly what I’m doing!” He puts his hands around his mouth and yells. “The Harringtons are buttheads!”
Steve breaks into giggles, falling back against the blanket, squirming with laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah, but you love it,” Eddie says without thinking, and watches as something flashes across Steve’s face.
Before he can backtrack or brush it off as a joke, Steve sits up again, his jaw set with determination. 
“The fight with my parents was because of you,” he says. And okay, that’s not what Eddie was expecting. 
“Me?”
“They came home just as I was packing this up.” He gestures at the picnic basket. “I didn’t hear them come in until they came into the kitchen. They thought I was doing all of this for a girl so they started going off about me wasting my life and everything that they worked so hard to give me just to go on dates and work at a goddamn video store. They told me that it didn’t matter how much I tried, this girl was going to realize I was a failure and leave me. I don’t know what made me more angry- what they were saying about me or that they were talking about you like they knew you.” Steve pauses and takes a deep breath. “So I snapped and I told them I wasn’t packing all of that for a girl, that I was doing it for you. A guy. And that you would never leave me because I work at a video store or because our dates consist of grilled cheese sandwiches and roller skating and babysitting kids. And I guess that was a little presumptuous of me since we never really agreed that these were dates and I don’t even know if you-”
“Yes,” Eddie says when he finally finds his voice. He lost it somewhere around Steve calling this, and all the things they’ve been doing together for weeks, dates.
Steve blinks, his lips press together like he’s trying to stop himself from smiling, from getting ahead of himself. “You don’t know what I was going to say.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “What were you going to say?”
“That I don’t even know if you feel the same way I feel for you.”
“Yes.” Eddie repeats. “Holy fuck, Steve, yes I do.”
Steve stops trying to hide his smile. He beams at Eddie. “Yeah? You’re crazy about me too?”
Eddie whines low in his throat. “Steve.”
Steve pushes himself to his knees and then he closes the distance between them by crawling towards Eddie. “Are you?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t stop thinking about me and you want to listen to me talk all day about nerdy shit too?” Steve asks, crowding against Eddie until he has no choice but to lean back until he’s lying down on the blanket and Steve is hovering over him. 
“Sports shit but yeah, yes.”
Steve leans down until his lips are right next to Eddie’s ear. “You want to kiss me too?” Eddie shivers, and this time, it’s not because of the cold. He’s never felt warmer in his entire life. 
“Yes,” he says. “Please, Steve.”
Steve closes the distance between them and crashes his lips against Eddie’s, kissing him hard and desperately, drawing a whimper out of him. Eddie kisses back with just as much enthusiasm, his hands coming up to grip Steve’s waist, his shoulders, his arms. 
His freezing arms. 
“Christ, Steve!”
“What? What?” Steve asks, pulling back just enough so that Eddie can see his face- flushed with parted, swollen lips and blown pupils. 
And oh. Yeah. Eddie needs to see Steve looking like this again soon. Preferably when he’s not freezing to death. 
“You’re freezing, man. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was a little busy,” Steve smirks. 
Eddie shakes his head. “I’m giving you your jacket back,” he says, squirming as he tries to shrug off the jacket with Steve still on top of him. 
“No, Eds-” 
“Then we’re going to the car.”
“But I can’t kiss you like this in the car,” Steve pouts and the sight of a pouty Steve because he wants to straddle Eddie and kiss him stupid shouldn’t make him consider staying out here in the cold, but it does. Just for a moment. 
“You can, if we climb in the backseat, baby,” Eddie says with a sly grin. 
Steve’s eyes widen, his eyes flick to the car and then to Eddie’s lips and Eddie sees the moment he makes a decision. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I am a little cold. Let’s go.”
They pick up the trash and the blanket in record time, even while stealing short, giggly kisses. 
“I can’t believe we’ve been on so many dates and you haven’t even asked me out once!” Eddie says, balling up the tin foil paper and throwing it at Steve’s face. He throws his head back with a groan. “I can’t believe Max was right!” 
Steve raises an eyebrow. “You talk to Max about me? Your fifteen-year-old neighbor?” 
Eddie arches an eyebrow right back. “Oh, so you don’t talk to Dustin, your fifteen-year-old best friend about me?” 
“Of course I do,” Steve sniggers. “He’s the one who told me you can’t roller skate to save your life.”
“Then why did you take me to the roller rink?” Eddie asks with an undignified squeak, feeling the phantom pain of his many falls.
“So I could do this-” Steve takes hold of Eddie’s hands, tangling their fingers together, “-all night.” 
Eddie flushes, looking down at their hands with a smile. “That was a good plan, I’ll give you that.” 
He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. “I have more where that came from.” 
The touch makes Eddie’s insides flutter, he pulls a strand of hair across his face with his free hand, but Steve can probably still see his red cheeks. “Yeah?” 
“Mhm,” Steve hums. He crowds against Eddie until his back hits the car, pinning him against it. “And I can show you. If you agree to go on a date with me.” Steve’s free hand plays with the lapel of his jacket on Eddie. “Officially, I mean.” 
Eddie grins. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. 
Then he’s dragging him into the backseat, and for the rest of the night, neither of them feels cold again.
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seabirdtxt · 7 months
Text
.Irminsul --amend -m 'Scaramouche'
Nahida has called in the book club to try and start discussions about the Creator's situation. Cyno actually kinda knows what he's talking about and Alhaitham is... mostly there for moral support... [< prev] [Blog Tag] [next >]
Notes: SAGAU, reader is the Creator but no cult shenanigans. Separate warning for my writing being all over the place on this one. all relationships are currently platonic!
WC. 2.6k
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There’s not much to do except wait for Alhaitham and Cyno to show up, unfortunately, so you have taken to chatting with Nahida and Aranyani about some of the games and toys that exist back on Earth. Aranyani seems to be interested in the mechanics of each, comparing them to existing games in Teyvat, while Nahida is more interested in trying them out for herself, someday.
Scaramouche doesn’t seem interested in the conversation, but he sits with the three of you anyway and watches the shadows of birds moving beyond the stained glass windows. 
You’d just been explaining the concept of the rubix cube and algorithms to the two gods when a sure knock is heard on the sanctuary doors. Scaramouche takes the opportunity to make his escape from the conversation, shuffling to the door and opening it for the newcomers. 
Cyno steps in, followed by Alhaitham, and the two of them hold each other at a polite distance as they walk down toward the dais, where the rest of you stand to greet them. 
“Hello, my friends!” Nahida exclaims, smiling brightly and clasping her hands together even as she and Aranyani take a gracious step back to allow you and the newcomers space. “Thank you so much for being here! We have a lot to discuss!” 
“We came as soon as we heard,” Cyno replies, nodding. He then turns to you with a little salute. “Your Grace, it is an honor to be in your presence.”
You put your hands up placatingly. “Please, there’s no need for formality…” you say, shuffling awkwardly on the spot as everyone looks at you. You clear your throat and gesture for the newcomers to continue. 
“We heard about the circumstances after your arrival in Teyvat,” Alhaitham states, stepping around Cyno, stopping at his side and crossing his arms. Straight to the point. “Do you remember the circumstances that led up to your descent? It might help point toward the root cause, and shed light on the ‘how’s and ‘why’s.” 
“Uh, good question,” you mutter, scratching your head about it for a second. “I was probably hanging out in my room or something, really. Playing, uh, games on my phone.”
You wonder if it’s too early to mention that said game was Genshin, AKA. controlling their world. You know they’re marginally self-aware, but the extent of which still escapes you. 
“Alright, and did you do anything different while you were playing on this ‘phone’? See anything strange?” Cyno picks up, pulling out a small notepad and quill. “Anything out of the ordinary, things that you don’t normally do or notice.”
“Well, my phone has been glitching a lot when I play games, lately,” you muse. “And I kept getting these buggy screens while I was in-game, but I figured that was just because my device was overheating or something. You know, they build them faulty on purpose so they can sell you a new one every few years? Apparently in France or something they made companies give people the right to repair their own phones, but we don’t have that where I live…” 
Cyno writes down most of the first half of what you say, but you seem to lose the crowd as you ramble. He looks up from his notepad to fix you with a level stare, though you can tell there's just a hint of confusion behind his expression.
“Can you say something that makes sense to people who live in this world?” Scaramouche interjects somewhere in the middle of your rambling, the first time he spoke since you guys first teleported to the Sanctuary of Surasthana. “Or at least stay on topic, or something.” 
“Oh,” you reply, blinking. “Right.” 
Cyno nods to you again, though he keeps glancing at Scaramouche out of the corner of his eye. Alhaitham doesn’t bother with subtlety, fixing the Balladeer with a level, analytical stare. Cyno clears his throat after a few seconds of awkward silence, preparing his notepad once more. “So, you were saying you played on this ‘phone’ device, aside from the problem you noticed, was there anything else you did differently?”
“Not really,” you shrug. “I was playing the game like I normally would, doing commissions and stuff. No, wait, actually I did do something a bit weird.” 
This causes Cyno to perk up, and he leans forward onto the balls of his feet as he listens attentively. 
“Because the game was overheating my phone, my ping was super slow,” you explain. “So I was lagging pretty badly. I was doing one of the leylines in the jungle and I was spamming the interact button on the flower because I was getting impatient…”
“And then?”
“... And then I think another dialogue box popped up, but I didn’t notice what it said.” You finish, sighing. “After that, I just remember waking up beside a leyline thingy right here in Teyvat.” 
“Do you remember the exact location of the leyline?” Alhaitham asks, to which you shake your head.
“The Traveler and Wanderer found me not too long after that, and took me straight to the city. They probably have a better idea than I do, honestly. I didn’t really have a chance to figure out where I was, at the time…” 
“Do you recall any distinctive landmarks? Anything that stood out in an otherwise unremarkable location?” 
You shake your head again, trying to remember what you saw. “No, uh, I was a little bit distracted by discovering I was suddenly in- uh, in Teyvat, and-”
“So you were not already aware of your location when you descended?” Cyno clarifies. You nod quickly.
“I only figured out it was Sumeru when the Traveler started bringing me closer to the city,” you agree, wringing your hands nervously under the general’s gaze. “The few little houses and tents that started popping up, the architecture kinda gave it away…” 
“Were there any inconsistencies you noticed between your knowledge of Teyvat and the actual Teyvat when you arrived?” Cyno asks, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “Just to make sure you’re in the correct version.” 
“Well, funny you should mention that,” you figure it wouldn’t hurt to share this, given the result of it sitting right next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, Nahida is giving you a thumbs up. “I got hurt touching a leyline, not the same one as when I first got here, though! I got a little cut on my hand, because the leaves are a bit sharper than I was expecting…”
Alhaitham’s attention shifts from the Balladeer back to you. “What happened when you were injured?”
“I, uh, I accidentally made Irminsul recover some deleted information.” You simplify as best as you can. “And now there’s several things that were added back to the world that aren’t technically supposed to be here...”
“I’ve never heard of leylines doing that, before,” Cyno remarks. “Then again, it’s not every day the Creator descends to Teyvat.” 
“Have you tried going back to the same location to see if it yields reverse results?” Alhaitham wonders aloud, seeming amused by the strange predicament. 
“And what is that supposed to achieve?” Scaramouche interrupts again, snorting as he crosses his arms. “Besides going for a leisurely stroll through the jungle, I mean. Irminsul already recovered the missing data, and the location itself doesn’t matter, if you haven’t noticed already, since you can find a leyline just about anywhere.”
“It’s certainly an unprecedented behavior for leylines,” Cyno agrees. “But again, the Creator has never descended before-”
“We heard you the first time,” Scaramouche deadpans, earning him a smack upside the head courtesy of you. “Ow! Do you want to figure this stuff out or not?”
“Be nice,” you grumble, though you do feel slightly annoyed at the repetitive line of questioning. “He’s just ruling things out, right?” You turn to Cyno, nodding encouragingly for him to continue. 
“Ley lines are a complicated but fascinating subject to study,” Cyno states, crossing his arms and tucking his notebook under one elbow. “However, I’m afraid interdimensional travel is a little bit outside Spantamad’s realm of expertise.”
“Honestly, that’s fair,” you give a resigned sigh, but Scaramouche cuts you off.
“But how’s that supposed to help you?” He sneers and rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s like you want to be stuck here forever with no explanation for how you got here in the first place.”
“Can we just chalk it up to magic or something?” You ask sheepishly, a little embarrassed at having taken the time out of two of Sumeru’s most important figures’ days.
“I was looking forward to hearing about how you got into this predicament with your own two idiot hands, honestly.”
“What I want to know,” Alhaitham suddenly interjects, surprising everyone else with his initiative. “Is how the Creator and the Dendro archon are here, cozying up to a Fatui harbinger?” 
Four pairs of eyes blink at him in surprise, while Cyno nods in agreement.
“I think that’s the more pressing matter, here,” he agrees, and you can sense the tingle of static in the air as his previously-relaxed grip on his notebook starts to tighten. 
“Okay, see, that’s one of the things I was talking about!” You say quickly, the words leaving you in a rush in hopes of stemming the building tension in the sanctuary. “He was a harbinger before, but he’s all better now!”
“You say that like it was an illness,” Scaramouche snorts, to which you can only laugh.
“Yeah? As if you didn’t act a little bit sick in the hea-”
Nahida, who up until now has been doing an excellent job of pretending to mind her own business, decides to chime in before the general can come to his own conclusion.
“I apologize for not warning you two earlier, but I do have it on good authority—that authority being myself,” she hides her giggle with the palm of her hand, “that the Balladeer poses no harm to either of you, or the Creator!” 
“It’s also kinda my fault that he’s here, so I mean…” You trail off and give an apologetic shrug.
“How did you know I was a harbinger?” Scaramouche’s eyes narrow at Alhaitham and he crosses his arms as well, mirroring both the scribe and Cyno. “As far as I've been told, the memory of ‘me’ was erased from Irminsul.”
Cyno shakes his head. “No, there is recorded evidence of the Balladeer’s involvement with the sages’ god-creation plan,” he corrects, relaxing very slightly after Nahida’s reassurance but not dropping his guard completely. 
“I was present at the time of the Traveler’s investigation of the Joruri workshop, where they confronted the mechanical false god,” Alhaitham adds. “The person who fell from the machine indeed bears striking resemblance to you, but was confirmed to not be the Balladeer himself. However, Lord Kusanali’s own interjection confirms that you are indeed the Balladeer.” 
“He’s been reformed,” you say cheerfully, but your mind is running a mile a minute. Evidently Nahida and Aranyani are on the same page, because the two goddesses drift closer with curious looks on their faces. 
“So Irminsul has already started patching the holes in Teyvat’s history,” Nahida muses, hands on her hips. “It’s much faster than I anticipated, given the circumstances.”
“Not as surprising as you would think, little sprout,” Aranyani pats her head. “Irminsul is capable of very rapid computation, but the problem lies in resolving as many conflicting histories as possible. Two is faster, but three will cause some things to be shuffled around for a few days, still. The justification of the existence of multiple incarnations of the Balladeer may yet be subject to change.”
“So you’re saying that what we currently perceive as fact, is instead false?” Cyno asks, having retrieved his notebook once more. As the goddesses continue to muse on the subject, he writes down their theories and makes some notes of his own. 
“I’d say sorry for that workshop fight,” Scaramouche says, addressing Alhaitham with a smug grin. “But I honestly didn’t even remember you being there. I guess you just weren’t that noteworthy to me at the time. No hard feelings, right?” 
Alhaitham doesn’t even bother to grace him with a look, much to Scaramouche’s annoyance. Instead, the scribe quietly listens in on the Irminsul discussion.
Meanwhile, you try to remember what team you had when you took on the Archon quest fight. It’s been a while since then, and you’re not sure if you’re thinking of the right fight. Maybe you used Alhaitham in one of your weeklies? Speaking of which, do those boss fights exist in the world of Teyvat, or is that just for you as a player of the game? If they exist, how do the characters feel having to go beat up the same people on a weekly basis? What about the characters who are weekly bosses, like Wanderer, Childe, and Ei?
Thinking about it is starting to give you a headache. 
You decide to tune back in as Nahida and Aranyani finish bouncing ideas between themselves, with Cyno furiously scribbling annotations in the margins of his notepad. What was it they were talking about again? You get the sense that maybe you should've paid a bit more attention. 
“- that’s the case, then we should contact Inazuma and see if there is a new history that came up.” Cyno offers, to which Nahida shakes her head.
“If we ask directly, the answer we will get is the same.” She explains, wringing her tiny hands. “To them, this knowledge will have always existed. They will perceive it as an unchanged fact, in the same way you and the Scribe believe the circumstances of the Balladeer to be a fact. The better people to ask would be the ones involved in the anomaly.” 
“Alright, and how do we find them?”
“See, that’s the funny part…” You begin, only to be interrupted by a sudden swirling pressure in the chamber.
It’s strange to see the teleportation from an outside perspective. You watch as Wanderer shimmers into existence, adjusting his hat. The metal charms on the ends of it chime as they settle. He looks up, catching sight of you first and raises a hand to wave, only to stop short when he sees the other guests.
“... Looks like I’m late to the party,” he remarks, drifting over to Nahida’s side. “Wanna catch me up to speed? Not that I care, but I might as well get the full picture so I can correct you where you're wrong.”
“I asked for the General and the Scribe to come visit so that we could get a better grasp on the Creator’s situation!” Nahida explains, smiling brightly at him. 
“Great, and how did that go?”
Everybody chooses to look in different directions, unable to look Wanderer in the eye. You hear him heave an annoyed, but resigned, sigh. 
“We might’ve gotten somewhere if Buer hadn’t sidetracked,” Scaramouche adds helpfully. 
“And you might’ve gotten the groceries like you guys said you would, too, but here we are,” Wanderer crosses his arms, pinning you and Scaramouche with a pointed look. 
You wince and turn around, subtly leaning over to Scara, whispering: “I actually forgot about that…”
“Me too…” he replies, not quite as quietly as you. You both startle as hands come down on both of your shoulders, Wanderer’s grinning face appearing between the two of you. 
“Isn’t this just a splendid opportunity for you two to go find the traveler and restock our pantry, while Buer and I go over the details of what you clowns didn’t explain right?” 
Scaramouche wastes no time wresting his shoulder out of Wanderer’s grasp with a noise of disgust. “Who do you think you are to order me around, teacher’s pet? I’ll go when I feel like it.” He sneers, stalking off toward the doors of the sanctuary.
You offer a light chuckle and a wry grin of apology to the others, who watch unimpressed at Scaramouche’s display, while Wanderer dismisses you with a shooing motion.
Right. Time to get those supplies. 
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liyawritesss · 1 year
Text
ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...
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Characters: Ellie Williams x Black!Fem!Reader
From: The Last Of Us Part II (Game Series)
Type: Headcanons
Synopsis: What would it be like to fall in love with the smart-mouthed badass Ellie Williams in a world recovering from a zombie apocalypse?
Warnings: mentions of game-canon violence, mentions of weapons (primarily guns), mentions of blood, mentions of mental illness, cursing
A/N: Yet another tag I gotta fill with x black!reader, cuz lets be honest - let Ellie get a black gf; all manners and common sense are going out the window. JOEL IS ALIVE AND WELL IN THIS
Tags: @verachii @percsane
Sign up for my tag list here!
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You and Ellie first met when she was sent to your little garden/apothecary to assist you in finding some plants that had been rebudding around the Jackson community area. At first, she was apprehensive to the idea - why did she of all people had to go out and collect fucking flowers and leaves? - but her mouth had already gotten her into trouble today, and she couldn’t bear another lecture from anyone, so she bit her tongue hard and went to find your little greenhouse near the center of town.
Her amazement comes across as a look of confusion when she steps into the greenhouse. She’s met with a pleasant scent of lavender, bundles of it hanging from the doorframe. She finds you tending to some plants in the middle of the room, and when your eyes lock, her breath catches in her throat, because holy fuck, no one told her that this herbalist lady was her age, and fine as fuck.
You greet her with a smile and hand her the list of things needed, telling her to take her time since you know that some of them may be difficult to find. She flips through the notebook you’ve given her, paying special attention to the detailed drawings, commemorating them to memory, before she sets off with only the thought of pleasing the herbalist girl with her findings.
When she comes back, it’s the dead of night, and she’s a bit durtied and bruised from what you’re sure to be a fight with some undead, but she has every item on the list you’d given her. From that point on, the two of you became close acquaintances, friends, and more.
She finds your presence so peaceful. When you’re up making ointments and remedies for the patrol squads, she joins you with her sketchpad. The two of you sit together in perfect silence, some jokes being shared here and there. Her sketchpad quickly fills up with drawings of you doing various activities - drinking tea, watering plants, grinding leaves into powders, making dyes, etc. Watching you becomes her favorite pastime.
After a while of knowing each other, she becomes more comfortable with being a smartmouth with you, and is excited when you match her energy. You always have a rebuttal to one of her remarks and it sparks something in Ellie that urges her on more and more. 
She becomes more touchy, too, though that aspect is primarily reassured by you. Although neither of you have disclosed much information about your past, you can tell she’s been through a lot, and could only imagine the worst when she would pull away from your touch in the beginning. It takes a long time, but the sweet hugs shared after accomplishing yet another supply run for you were definitely worth the wait.
And they’re quite literally the best hugs you’ve ever had. It could be a simple side hug with her pulling you by your hip to her chest, or it could be one of the longer ones, where her arms slip around your waist, her head dipping into your neck as she inhales your scent. You love them all.
Ellie claims that all your plant stuff is boring and lame, but she’s so very attentive when you’re rambling off a new herb or a new concoction you’ve made, and learns the names of the flowers you like the most. She soon learns that lavender is your favorite, which is why it hangs everywhere around the greenhouse, but also because it smells heavenly and reduces anxiety and provokes calmness. It quickly becomes her own, too.
She loves when you braid her hair. The two french braids leading into a bun is her favorite style, and even though she’s always messing it up when she’s on patrol, fighting and escaping from zombies and enemy groups alike, you’re happy to wash and redo her hair every time.
Ellie’s confession obviously doesn’t go the way she planned. And yes, she did plan on confessing to you her affections at some point, but she tells herself that she’s waiting for the right time. While part of that may be true, the bigger picture was her general fear of rejection - which was absurd to her, she never gave two fucks about what people thought about her. But when it came to you, everything mattered.
You’d never looked at Ellie’s notebook before. It was her privacy, and you were one to respect boundaries, but when she left the book open to go talk to Dina and Jesse about something, especially on a particular page that had your face drawn onto the cream paper of the sketchbook, your curiosity took over your senses.
It was a drawing of you drinking tea and reading a book. You remember that day - she was exceptionally quiet that day and only wanted to be around you. So you let her chill in the greenhouse with you while you did your normal routines. The intricate and detailed lines on the page sparked something in you that you thought you had pushed away, a surge of emotions reawakening in your stomach.
Ellie comes back in and nearly goes into a rage when she sees you seemingly flipping pages in her sketchbook, and although you try to reason with her, she’s not having it. She thinks you invaded her privacy, and she continues to think so as she leaves the greenhouse for the evening.
She comes back though, at the dead of night as you’re cleaning up and setting things up for the next morning, looking remorseful like a lost puppy. She apologizes, and you come to sit next to her, your legs touching, and you tell her that you accept her apology.
Ellie pauses for a moment, looking into your eyes for what seems like forever, before she begins speaking. The way she speaks is damn near contradicting about she feels about you, but in the end she gets her point across - she likes you, a lot, and needs to know how you feel about her in order for her to get some form of clarity and sanity back to her brain
And you tell her that you feel the same, that you’re attracted to her in such a way and so strongly that it shouldn’t even be possible - surely isn’t wise or sane considering the times the two of you currently live in, and yet, you still found yourself yearning for the brunette when you knew you shouldn’t
At this point the two of you are impossibly close, and the way Ellie’s eyes keep darting between your own and your lips, it’s definitely got a pool of heat swirling in your stomach. And before either of you realize it, her lips are on yours, and you’re experiencing your first and the most electrifying kiss of your life. And just like that, you become Ellie’s and she becomes yours
She  makes a vow to protect you in every possible way she can. When and if you do go out on the search for supplies, she’s always accompanying you regardless of whatever she may have been doing prior. She teaches you how to use a gun and a bow and arrow (of which, you favor the latter) so that you have the skills to protect yourself when she’s not there. 
She never let anyone talk to you any kind of way, but its amplified now because she has an obligation to make sure people know who the fuck they’re talking to. No one talks out the side of their neck to her girl and gets away with it. If all she does is curse them out, as long as they get the idea and don’t pull anything anymore, all is good.
Introducing you to Joel as your girlfriend is the most awkward thing for her…and you better believe he’s poking fun at her about her stellar choice in a significant other (trust me, he’s been waiting for this moment, because he just knew that she’d go after you of all people in the community. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was in on organizing your initial meeting. He’s definitely the wingman Ellie didn’t know she needed.
She doesn’t engage in PDA, but when it’s just the two of you alone? Best believe she’s getting her fill of hugs and kisses whenever she can. You’re not promised tomorrow, so she wants to love you to the fullest extent she can. 
Brings you back flowers from her patrols that you don’t even ask for, but because they’re pretty and remind her of you. You can try as you might to tell her you don’t need them - it’ll only provoke her to bring you more
On the longer nights where she’s too exhausted mentally and physically to speak, she curls into you and just lets you take over her senses. It’s a rather rare occasion, so you savor it while it lasts. You take care of Ellie at her most vulnerable and that’s all she could ever really ask for from someone.
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kedsandtubesocks · 27 days
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seasons of you (year 1 - winter)
Blacksmith!Frankie Morales x F!Reader
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summary: your first winter in the valley brings in a frosty breeze & a push towards a certain blacksmith
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a farmer & has a family but no physical description, shy & sweet!Frankie, major pining & yearning, friends to something more, Frankie being previously married/a bit secretive about his life, gift exchange as love language, use of nickname (Frankie calls reader “little farmer” affectionately but it’s no reflection on reader’s size), blooming romance
word count: 5.6k
a/n: we’ve arrived to Frankie’s first piece in our Stardew AU series! We’re starting ‘in the middle of things’ & it’s meant to show how slow/shy our relationship with Frankie unfolds that romance just starts rolling now, plus I needed Frankie’s story to begin this way so something else can maybe unfold in year two but that’s all I’m gonna saying lol, again couldn’t have done this without @lowlights @swiftispunk @perotovar & @burntheedges you babes are my guiding stars always and I’m eternally grateful. And to you, if you’re reading this, thank you too lovely
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Snow crunches under your boots and the chilly air seeping through your coat feels different. This would be your first serious winter storm and you already sense it approaching.
Yanking open the blacksmith’s door, a wave of heat washes over and you sigh.
Thankfully Frankie’s shop is still open and you almost cry relieved.
“Sorry!” You apologize walking further towards the counter. “I know there’s five minutes left before closing, but I just wanted to swing by!”
You wanted to pick up your newly forged ax before the storm hit and of course…
You wanted to see him.
Autumn kept you so busy with the farm and the fall festival. Now you hope to see more of your favorite blacksmith.
Waiting for him, your eyes wander.
The shop, with its eternal flame flickering, holds so much personality in its walls. A military pilot flag hangs by the front. The low radio plays a soft rock ballad. A bulletin board by the side of the counter is covered in various flyers and photos. Your favorite snapshots are one of a smiling little baby girl with sweet chubby cheeks you still haven’t gotten to ask Frankie who she is. There’s another photo of a group of men in military uniform.
It’s all so familiar and welcoming now.
With all the time in the mines, you wonder if maybe your pickaxe needs work too. Sliding your backpack off, you examine your trusty tool. Worn, but not weathered, the steel speaks of the craftsmanship and skill of the blacksmith who first forged it for you.
“You waiting for that tool to do something or should I leave you two alone?”
Frankie.
You fight back a smile when his warm deep teasing voice floats in.
Frankie wasn’t this easy going with you at first. He kept his distance, was polite but rather reserved.
“He’s just shy. He was like that when I first moved in too,” Leah, your closest friend here in the valley, reassured you one night at the saloon.
Now those beautiful gem eyes of Francisco Morales blaze straight at you as he walks towards the counter. Wearing his trademark baseball cap you playfully glare at him.
“I’m just checking to see if I need to complain to my blacksmith about my pickaxe needing work.” You quip back to him.
“Oh well shit, thank god that isn’t me.” Frankie smirks and you snort at his comment.
Frankie reminds you of the flames and steel he works with. Hard working and gently intense, yet a warmth gleams beneath him and fills an entire room just like the heat from his kilns.
“You just had to come in five minutes before I closed huh?” Frankie sighs dramatically.
You think he’s teasing but guilt still strikes you quick. Rambling out apologies, you scramble to explain how it’s mainly for precaution with the storm coming.
“I can always come back later!” You urge panicking.
He chuckles, cozily deep, and you sputter to a stop.
“I kid little farmer, I kid.”
That nickname he so casually gave to you just this month sparks an electric warmth through your entire body. You weakly laugh back, not able to fully process a reply.
Frankie’s gorgeous features, his striking nose, and his warm eyes disarm you in a way that makes your knees want to fold.
He moves around the tables and workbenches to pull out your ax.
“There it is!” You happily cheer.
Frankie even playfully shows off the sleek new tool like he’s a hostess in a daytime game show and you clap appreciatively while you laugh. It surprises you how silly sometimes Frankie can be.
Moving back to the counter he places your ax onto it. Then he leans towards you and begins explaining what upgrades he did.
You should be listening, but you can’t. Not with him leaning so close to you.
You’ve had an embarrassing crush on Frankie since the first moment Mayor Lewis introduced you to him. But with how busy you’ve been settling into the valley, along with how shy and reserved Frankie is, your feelings simply have stayed crystallizing inside you.
Frankie’s diligent eyes are so focused on his work and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. How dedicated he is to his craft, how quietly passionate he is, you yearn to fall into him more.
Suddenly Frankie’s eyes flicker up and catch you staring at him. In a panic your gaze snaps down to your tool.
“Yup! Looks like it can still cut a tree! Good job, Morales.” You lamely reply and Frankie snorts.
You do sincerely thank him and even offer to get him coffee for making him stay this late.
Frankie waves you off casually. “Maybe next time, besides you gotta get home before the storm hits.”
He’s right. There's still so much you need to do before the night comes. The clatter of Frankie slowly shutting everything down for the night draws you out of your thoughts.
“Do you need any help?” You offer.
“Nah, I’m good. Plus I don’t need your pretty hands getting burned.” Frankie replies back.
Although he’s not looking at you, his sly compliment sends a spark through your body.
Scrambling to put your ax in its guard and then shoving it into your backpack, you thank Frankie again and plan to quietly leave.
“Wait!” Frankie suddenly calls out and you freeze.
“Wait, don’t head out yet. Let me walk you home.”
The chill from outside settles into the shop now that the fires are extinguished. Yet, Frankie’s words ignite a dizzying heat.
“Oh no it’s okay!” You quickly stammer out as a nervous energy spikes in you.
You know he lives besides the forge. It wouldn’t make sense for him to walk you home then have to head the way back here.
The lights from the back area turn off and Frankie already walks out towards you with his coat on.
Your eyes go wide.
“Come on.” He gently nudges you with his kind eyes and your body moves on autopilot.
Once outside the cold galvanizes you. The sky above stretches out a misty blue while the edges of evening’s midnight coloring slowly creeps in.
The entire walk back to your farm Frankie stays in step with you. The conversation is light, easy, simple talk of how his and your day went. Your heart hammers in your chest. Yet, it’s comforting to have someone beside you. He’s warm and stays close.
Now your farm stretches before you a soft welcome home. Frankie, like the gentleman he is, walks you to the door.
Appreciative, you warmly thank him and wish him a safe trip back home.
“Thanks and stay warm, little farmer.” He grins softly, kind.
After a sweet wave goodbye to him, you walk off the porch to do all the final errands before you call it a night.
“Wait, what’re you doing?” Frankie suddenly calls out and curiosity colors his voice.
You glance back and see he hasn’t moved an inch.
With an eased sleepy smile you tell him you have a few last minute things you need to do. Like check on your winter seeds, double check the coop and then make sure the pipes are covered.
“You need help?” He warmly asks concerned and sincere.
“Oh no, I’m good I promise!” You reply. If you were braver you’d joke about not wanting to hurt his pretty hands.
“Besides, you need to get home.” You firmly tell him.
It’s getting darker, not completely night out, but you feel guilty for Frankie walking out here.
So with one final sigh you give him a warm goodbye.
“Stay warm tonight, Morales.”
Frankie quietly grins back and you hope he makes it home safe. Now your focus turns to the small field and you kneel before it.
Your winter seeds aren’t ready just yet. A dread fills you wondering if they will last against the storm.
“What are you growing?”
Frankie.
You didn’t even hear his footsteps in the snow. Whipping your head up you watch Frankie lean down to squat beside you.
“You should be walking home!” You cry out surprised.
Frankie shrugs sleepily. “It’s still early, I’ll be fine.”
You make an indignant squeak that makes him chuckle. Frankie’s eyes return to the little saplings still making their way through the snow, stubbornly growing against the harsh winter.
“They’re just winter seeds.” You sigh explaining how you’ve been growing them mainly for the experience and money.
“You think they’re gonna make it?” He asks gently.
You hope so.
You’re about to get up when Frankie quickly stands above with his hand outstretched to you. Even though your hands are gloved and so are his, a flutter runs through your chest when you place your hand in his. Frankie lifts you up effortlessly and you thank him, trying to steady yourself.
“Alright, what’s next?” Frankie asks light.
“For you to go home, Morales!” You laugh.
“Well you’re walking towards the barn so…kinda doesn’t seem like you’re finished yet.” Frankie comments almost shyly as he stays walking beside you.
“I’m not, but I don’t need your help. Go home!” You urge with a weak laugh. Frankie simply shrugs.
Sliding open the coop door, warmth begs you to come inside. You’re thankful for investing in those barn heaters.
“Your chickens are so big.” Frankie admires quietly in awe at the sleeping birds.
You smile while double checking the coop. Everything seems secure and safe for whatever might come this way tonight.
Stepping back outside the cold air seems still, quiet.
“You need to head home.” You tell him sternly, more worried than ever about his walk back to town.
“What’s next?” He asks with steeled resolve in his voice with no sign of leaving.
“Go home Francisco.” You firmly urge saying his full name.
But then you catch the sight of your pipes and sigh. So you almost did forget to wrap them.
“You didn't wrap your pipes?” He sounds a bit worried.
“I thought I did earlier…” Now you’re extra grateful for double checking.
When the first snow came at the start of winter, everyone reassured you the pipes would be fine. It was during harder snow storms, blizzards, that you needed to be careful. And now one approaches fast.
Frankie follows you inside the house to grab the necessary materials.
You can’t even process him being in your home for the first time. Simply on a mission you and him work together swiftly grabbing duck tape, a ratty old towel and head to the pipes.
It’s a swift team effort. In minutes, the pipes are securely wrapped safely and snug. You and him even share a triumphant high five.
“I wish I could invite you in for a thank you hot chocolate but you need to head home now.” You press.
Frankie, with his hands in his coat pockets, shrugs easily.
“I can stay for some thank you hot coco.” He offers.
“You gotta get home before the storm hits!” You shriek.
He waves you off casually. “It’s not coming till later tonight I’ll be fine. Now come on, don’t you wanna impress me with your hot chocolate skills?”
The smirk he gives you is so boyishly charming, almost like he’s daring you to invite him in.
This side of him is rare. You’ve only seen him get this smug and cocky at the saloon during a game of darts. Now your heart flutters fast in your chest.
“Come on,” He pouts. “Think of this as a way to help keep me warm on the walk back.”
He makes a point. The panic of wanting him to make it home safe before the storm, becomes smaller against the thought of spending more time with this man.
To have this man in your home.
So with a sigh of defeat you crack. Nudging your chin towards the door, you let Frankie in.
He’s in your home now. You need to stay composed.
You do have budding feelings for him, something that’s evolved out of the simple crush you had. And having him here in your home feels like dipping your toe into the deep end of a pool before jumping in. But you shake those thoughts away.
“Your place is nice.” Frankie admires and you thank him.
It’s still small, cozy now that you’re slowly allowing yourself to fully settle into the old bones of your grandpa’s home.
You want to say more until Frankie’s stomach suddenly growls.
Looking at him with surprised eyes, he stares back with beautiful eyes the size of the full moons.
“Shit.”
You laugh at his panicked response.
“You okay with maybe staying and having a quick dinner or should I really kick you out so you can head home?” You leave the option up to him, place the ball in his court.
Frankie with the most bashful smile slides off his coat.
“Dinner sounds great, little farmer.”
Your heart floats up and gets tangled in your throat, but it’s incredible.
You have the leftover lasagna Evelyn gave you as a thank you. But you also think of the soup recipe you've been dying to make for this weather.
So you leave it up to your guest for the night.
“Soup or leftover lasagna?” You offer light.
Frankie’s eyebrows scrunched together adorable, thinking hard at the two options, and you keep back a giggle.
“Will the soup take you a while to make?” He sounds sweetly concerned.
You swear it will take less than twenty minutes.
“Soup it is.” Frankie grins and it touches his eyes.
You begin grabbing the various ingredients and hate how hyper aware you feel even in your own house.
“So what can I help with?” Frankie now slides beside you and you almost squeak in surprise.
For someone who makes so much noise when he works, you find he’s rather quiet, swift.
“You’re my guest, so don’t worry. Plus you’ve helped enough!” You shoo him away and don’t miss the way he playfully glares at you.
Conversation again unfolds effortlessly with him. Frankie talks about how Mayor Lewis was in the shop earlier bragging about you hitting a full year in the valley.
“And here I thought everyone had stopped gossiping about me.” You snort lightly and start grabbing the bowls.
It will be a full year since you moved to your grandpa’s family farm. However, you wonder when the newness of you living here will subside.
“There’s… still some gossip of course. Small town after all.” Frankie admits shyly, like a school boy admitting a secret.
“But don’t worry, I don’t let any of ‘em talk bad about you in my shop.” Frankie, endearingly sweet, adds. His words knock you breathless and you almost drop the bowls.
“I knew I could count on you, Morales.” You manage to say with a grin.
Thankfully quick, the soup turns out comforting and delicious. Frankie even gushes about how incredible it is and your ego inflates wild.
“Thanks so much for dinner.” Frankie beams with the brightness of a sun.
“Please, I’m the one who’s thankful for all your help.” You earnestly tell him.
“Plus, it’s nice to have good company for dinner.” You add.
“I understand,” Frankie nods. “Gets a bit quiet around my place too. S’nice to change it up.”
A dual sided emotion settles in you. You ache understanding but also yearn to uncover more about this beautiful and sturdy man.
Before you can dive more into this discussion, Frankie’s phone rings wild and loud. Hastily scrambling to grab it, once he discovers who’s calling his face drops for a flicker of a moment.
“Sorry little farmer, but gotta excuse myself real quick is that alright?” His voice wavers.
Of course you earnestly reassure him and even direct him to the bathroom so he can talk in private. Frankie thanks you graciously then rushes out.
The house is quiet and he didn’t fully close the bathroom door fully. So his conversation leaks out enough for you to catch it.
“Wait, so you wannna just spring this on me now?” His voice slices out sharp. You’ve never heard Frankie sound this upset.
“Yes of course I’m gonna take her. But do you know how fucking shitty this is, Diana? Did you even think about my schedule before you fucking planned this trip?” He snaps.
You’ve also never heard him curse and it snaps your snipe straight. He sighs incredibly frustrated and angered, allowing whoever is on the phone to talk.
“Oh yeah, yeah, real fucking nice. Always make me the bad guy, right?”
Then Frankie starts speaking fast and low in Spanish you can’t catch what he’s saying. His tone however feels barbed and venomous.
So many questions bubble up. You believe you heard the name ‘Diana’ but this could be a conversation about anything.
Now thinking about it, even though you’ve been here almost a full year… you don’t know much about Frankie personally and that truth sinks your heart.
Silence now settles into your home until Frankie’s footsteps echo returning down the hall.
“I’m so sorry.” Frankie’s voice jolts the air but with a deep sadness. “I think I’m gonna have to save that cup of hot chocolate for another day.”
You kind of figured. Besides, you didn’t want him to get caught in the storm.
Outside the air has chilled, but thankfully the snow hasn’t begun.
“Had a great time tonight, thanks again for having me for.” An earnest grace radiates from his words.
You’re the one who’s truly thankful for him and you repeatedly tell him that.
Unfortunately a dread hits you. You want to make sure he makes it home. Your worry must be evident on your face because Frankie’s eyes cloud with caution.
“Wait, what’s wrong?”
When you tell him, a beautiful relief melts on Frankie’s face that you almost wish you could capture.
“Oh come on, that’s easy to fix, little farmer.”
He pulls out his phone and hands it to you.
He’s asking for your number.
Your heart beats so rapidly in your ears when you type your digits in.
“I’ll message you when I get home. Promise.” His warm voice is gilded with truth.
“Stay safe okay Frankie?” You tell him and his gorgeous eyes soften.
“Yeah, will do. And you stay safe too okay, little farmer? Stay warm and if you need anything.”
He holds his phone up and playfully wiggles it, a signal to say you should call him. You smile unbearably big and stay on the porch watching him leave until he vanishes from your sight.
You keep busy so you’re not simply staring at your phone waiting for his message. You clean up the remnants of dinner and feel comforted seeing two bowls in your sink.
Then your phone chimes and you scramble.
An message from an unknown number:
[Made it home safe!]
Another message flickers in.
[Also this is Frankie btw :)]
[Hi! 🪓]
The little ax emoji he adds makes you giggle giddy over how adorable this man can be.
You add his name and contact info into your phone. It warms you better than any sip of hot chocolate could.
- ❆ -
“Why do we even gotta celebrate ice?” One of the kids, you think Vincent, shouts that as you reach the edge of the forest and you snicker.
When you heard about the festival of ice, it simply sounded like a way for the town to break up the winter days. But it also reminded you how earnest and endearing the town can be.
Your heart jumps fast spotting Frankie bundled in his cozy jacket. He stands close to Willy and the two of them talk low, completely engaged with each other.
Whatever they’re discussing seems serious, evident in Frankie’s hard frown and Willy’s unusual somber expression. You decide not to interrupt them.
The fishing game is the highlight of the festival and to no shock the town’s head fisherman wins.
“It’s rigged.” You tease Willy and his hearty laugh is contagious.
“Don’t worry, next year you’ll be puttin’ me to shame.” Willy proudly declares.
When the event concludes for the day, Frankie already walks off without saying a word to you.
You try not to think about it too much.
When you’re about to head to bed, you find a message alert on your phone.
Frankie:
[Good try with the fishing tournament today! Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you today… have a lot of stuff going on. Also Willy wins every year. Think Lewis even adds fish into his crate to make sure it happens lol you’re the real winner in my book ]
You laugh as warmth balloons rapidly in your chest.
This message feels like a true victory for the day and it carries you for the rest of the week. Especially with how hard and brisk this final season of the year is.
Everyone warned you winter would be tough, and with your greenhouse still unfixed you’re realizing how true the warning is.
The days drag and bleed together. You throw yourself into the mines trying to gather more resources but that drains you fast. So you start doing a few errands around town to break up the days.
When Frankie requests a certain amount of wood you scramble quickly to complete the errand.
Inside the blacksmith shop, the familiar warmth greets you. However when Frankie walks out, a weariness looms over him. Heavy bangs hang around his eyes even as he smiles thin.
“Hey.” His voice is weary.
“Hey.” You reply back hesitantly. “I uh…have the wood you asked for.”
“Oh shit really?” He perks up. “Thanks, little farmer.”
You beam proud knowing you managed to at least brighten his day a little.
“Wait here, let me get your payment.”
You almost want to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but Frankie scrambles for his wallet.
“So, how ya been?” He asks.
“Good.” You partially lie. “How have you been?”
“Good.” He answers quickly, however you sense a lie buried.
You weakly smile. Exhausted, Frankie barely grins back and a pang pierces through you.
“Hey… Frankie.” You begin weakly. Frankie, midway pulling out your payment, freezes and blinks towards you.
“Yeah, little farmer what’s up?”
You know this might not mean much but you want to at least tell him.
“I just…” the words get stuck in your throat but with a deep inhale you unclog them.
“You just seem tired. I appreciate how hard you work but I just hope you get some rest when you can.” You tell him earnestly. “And… if there’s anything bothering you, I just wanted you to know you can always talk to me.”
You finish and hope you didn’t overstep.
Frankie’s gemstone eyes flicker stunned and then he sighs.
For the first time, Frankie slips his very notable baseball cap off and runs a hand over his hair.
His soft hat hair, the way you get this new glimpse of Frankie, lights something within your chest. You’ve never seen him without his cap. When he slips the baseball hat back on, his eyes seem cloudy and downcast.
“Thanks little farmer, appreciate it.” He mutters with another sigh. “It’s just stupid shit with my ex wife that’s taking longer than I expected to work out.”
Frankie’s words catapult you straight out of the atmosphere and your blood runs cold.
Ex wife.
Frankie was married before.
“I shouldn’t let it bother me and I don’t wanna be that type of ex husband, but holy shit she can be so damn difficult.” He shakes his head.
This feels like you’re meeting him again for the first time. But you’re grateful he’s sharing this with you.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with this and with her being difficult.” You reply with a soft comfort.
“You’re a good guy Frankie. I hope she doesn’t make you forget that.” You add, meaning those words.
You and him might have just recently become closer, but this entire year you’ve been living in Pelican Town Frankie’s been so sincerely kind. Always being patient with you and how awful you sometimes are to your poor tools. Even just seeing his soft shy smile when you run into him has brightened your day many times.
Frankie’s eyes finally flicker to you. They search your face like he’s waiting for you to react.
His mouth opens slightly.
Then he says your name, breathes it out, and it kickstarts a wild flutter in your heart.
But the door suddenly yanks open wildly behind you, cutting him off rapidly.
Robin, the town’s ever handy carpenter, arrives with a warm welcome drawing all the attention to her. The moment flutters away with her entrance. With a fast goodbye to Frankie and a swift warm greeting to Robin, you scramble fast to leave.
“Wait I didn’t-”
You don’t even wait to hear what Frankie has to say before you’re out of the door and back into the cold winter air. With so many thoughts buzzing in your head like angry hornets you simply head to the mines.
You stay there until the dead of night and drag your body back to farm. Even with how tired you are, your mind still thinks of a certain blacksmith.
The next morning there are two letters waiting for you. One is from Lewis reminding you of the upcoming Winter Star festival. The other is from Frankie.
Your heart jumps fast.
Little farmer,
Thanks for thinking of me and wanting to look out for me. Appreciate it a lot. Also you forgot your payment yesterday, silly! Don’t work yourself too hard either. So you get some rest too, alright?
Hope you swing by again and maybe soon we’ll have time for that hot chocolate :)
He not only sent you the payment for the errand but also a sweet pack of maple bars.
An overwhelming sweetness consumes you and you wish it never leaves.
The next day you plan to make Frankie a hot chocolate to bring him in the morning. But you realize you used the last remaining bits a few nights ago when you snuggled in for a cozy reading night. You mentally kick yourself but decide a green tea will hopefully be the best second option.
The minute Frankie’s shop opens you’re there the first one inside.
“You’re here early.” Frankie greets you with crinkled smiling eyes.
“Thought I’d stop by before I head to the mines.” You reply back brightly.
“It’s not hot cocoa, but I hope it’s a nice treat.” You offer lightly while you hand him the cozy to go drink.
“You got this for me? Thanks so much.” Your heart flutters hearing how warm his voice gets.
He takes a sip and his eye brows shoot up under the cover of his hat. Oh no. Does he not like it?
“Is this green tea?” His voice jumps so excited. “I love green tea!”
His brilliant smile creates a sun bursting light in your chest and you’re a bit grateful now you ran out of hot chocolate.
- ❆ -
Gus is a full five minutes into his handmade candy cane discussion and while you adore the endearing saloon owner, you can only take so much.
The feast of the evening star still warms and eases you though. The twinkling decorations, the absolute grand festive tree, the delicious food - it’s all a cozy blanket to soak into.
So you allow dear Gus to ramble about his candy canes while you sip on your warm drink.
“So who’s your secret gift recipient?”
Frankie’s soft but playful voice catches you off guard and you almost sputter out your drink.
You caught sight of him earlier but he was busy laughing with Pierre and Caroline. Then you got caught up in greeting everyone. Now you’re thankful to finally talk to him.
“You know that’s a secret.” You playfully glare at him.
The blacksmith simply shrugs but the amusement tugging his lips makes you smile.
A beautiful flush crawls over Frankie’s face. A kaleidoscopic joy sparkles in his deep eyes. He seems better and joy fills you.
“So does that mean you’re not gonna tell me what your winter star wish is?” He asks light.
You roll your eyes, but giddiness consumes you fast.
“You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.” You surprisingly coyly reply.
Frankie snorts and his face crinkles up adorable.
“If I told ya, you probably wouldn’t even believe me.” He says casually then takes a sip of his drink.
“Wait,” you reply back. “Now you gotta tell me.”
Frankie doesn’t reply for a moment.
In the stillness of this moment, you notice how close he is. He’s leaning right beside you that you can smell the faint smoke of his work, and a crisp cologne you’ve never noticed before.
Then, you see it. His stunning amber gemstone eyes flicker to your lips.
It’s fast, happens in a breath of a moment. Your throat dries. You blame the warm food and festive atmosphere, but you ache to lean closer.
Before you can react or even wait for Frankie’s next move, Mayor Lewis claps loudly, breaking the spell.
“Time to exchange gifts everybody!” He declares.
Your body feels electric and immediately you try settling yourself down. You needed to give your gift.
Jodi, the sweet mother she is, deserves a nice sweet treat and you surprise her with a fully cooked chocolate cake. Her warm excited reaction is a treat itself.
Evelyn, ever the kind grandmother, gives you a pack of her delicious and warm cookies. You hug her tight thanking her.
The festival concludes with a gentle end and fizzles out softly. The clean up is eased, relaxed, and by the time it’s finished an unfortunately long yawn takes over you.
“Can I walk ya home, little farmer? You seem tired.”
Frankie again, so stealthy, suddenly appears out of thin air.
You squeak out a quick yes and his face melts soft.
“So a full year down huh? Hope we haven’t scared you off too badly.” Frankie offers hopeful.
It has been a year, feels like so much yet so little has been composed into your new life here in Pelican Town. You think of the dilapidated community center you’ve been keeping an eye on and working on.
You’ve taken this new journey slowly, at your own pace. You can almost hear your grandpa’s voice cheering you on saying just take it one step at a time.
“No way.” You laugh answering Frankie’s question. If anything, you’ve grown more attached to the valley than you ever imagined. You even tell Frankie this and his face lights up so beautifully it rivals the festival tree standing in the town plaza.
“Everything work out with your ex?” You ask gently and then sputter out an apology if you’ve overstepped.
Frankie chuckles. “Nah, I’m glad we can talk about it.”
That comforts you.
“And yeah, thankfully everything worked out.” Frankie grins sleepily. “I’m still really sorry you had to hear that.”
“No worries! And like what you just said, I’m glad I can be here for you. That’s what friends are for, remember?” You reassure him.
“Yeah, friends.” The way his voice hangs on the word friends gets tangled in your chest.
A quietness clouds the walk.
“So Gus tell you about homemade candy canes?” Until Frankie’s light voice breaks the silence and you laugh.
It might have been a slow start becoming friends with Frankie. But you’re glad, grateful, to finally arrive here.
Arriving at your farm you thank Frankie again.
“If it wasn’t so late I really would invite you in for that hot chocolate I’ve been promising you.” You sigh. You even begged Gus for a new pack just to be stocked up.
“Don’t worry about it. There will be another night, promise.” His words are gilded in a promise you want to treasure.
He suddenly says your name and now under the light of your porch, Frankie seems bashful as his eyes flicker around.
“I, uh, kind of have something for you.”
That takes you by surprise.
“Couldn’t give it to you earlier cause I know Mayor Lewis would’ve had my ass.” Frankie dryly snorts and then pulls out something concealed in the classic brown paper wrapping he uses at his shop.
“Happy feast of the winter star, little farmer.” He delicately hands it to you and your eyes feel as if they’re going to pop out any moment.
You cry in protest that he didn’t need to get you anything and guilt rushes in. You didn’t get him anything.
“Eh,” he shrugs. “No pasa nada.”
You’ve only caught small bits of him speaking Spanish before and now hearing him speak so casual sounds beautiful.
Unwrapping the surprise gift, you discover he got you an iridium bar and you inhale sharply.
You haven’t even been able to forge one yet. The most precious, coveted, type of metal bar and he just casually gave one to you right now.
“Francisco Morales, this is too much!” You shriek.
He laughs buoyantly and loud at your reaction.
“Trust me, it’s not. Besides, seen how hard you work. How much you do for me and the town. You deserve it.”
You don’t want to get emotional, but the tears clogging your throat say otherwise. Those tears and the bubbling emotions, gratitude and all other shades of thankfulness, overtake you. Before you can stop yourself you rush to Frankie and collide into him.
You hug him best as you can but realize what you’ve just done. You don’t even know if he’s okay with close contact like this.
Immediately Frankie wraps you in his arms and squeezes you back. He’s all encompassing, beautifully so.
Your mind, your thoughts, everything melt as you embrace him back.
“Thank you.” You earnestly tell him.
“Anytime.” Frankie whispers back.
You would never tell Frankie this… but your winter star wish came true because you couldn’t have wished for a better way to bid such a sweet farewell to this season here in the valley.
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chaotic-mystery · 1 year
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cant stop thinking about jealous!joel miller and the way he’d react to seeing others flirt with you. just a little after your arrival to jackson, the three of you tired and just starting to socialize. you get talking with a friend of maria’s who introduced you. and joel is there watching, pretending to be interested in whatever the bored housewife hanging off his arm was even talking to him about. he burns with jealousy he doesn’t know what to do with and ends up crossing the bar to get to you. where he makes some kind of show of getting his hands on you and subtly proving his protectiveness and jealousy over other men talking to you. give it some real angst for me, please?
A/N: Bestie, I tried so hard for this and it's a little long, I hope I did it some justice!
“You’re what?” He shot up from the chair at the table and followed you down the hallway. “I’m going to the bar to go and be social, Joel. I’m fucking tired of being alone, I need more interaction. Besides, how would that look on us if we just stayed cooped up in the house instead of getting to know the people who were so kind to let us into their town?” you waited for a response, but it never came. You exited the bedroom and started for the door.  “So are Ellie and I not enough for you anymore?” he shouted at you as you were about to swing the front door wide open. Stopping dead in your tracks, doorknob in hand, you spun around quickly. “Excuse me? No, you don’t get to throw that at me, asshole. I love you both dearly, but god damn...I can only take so many of her jokes, and I can only deal with you being so cold towards me for so long. I’m sorry if I want to go somewhere I actually feel wanted. So if you want to, you can tag along or you can stay here with Ellie and watch a movie.” You didn’t mean for the words to sound so harsh, but maybe you were glad they hurt him a little. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. A scoff left your lips and out the door you went not wanting him to see the tears trying to escape your eyes. The walk to the bar was quiet, neither one wanted to speak.
Once you got inside and ordered a drink, he grabbed your arm and pulled you close to him. "For the record, I do want you, baby” Looking into those beautiful deep brown eyes was the biggest mistake you could’ve made. They always made you forgive him and you hated that. “Then act like it maybe” you snapped at him and gave his bottle a sarcastic clink with yours, making your way to Maria. Your hand brushed against her arm as you greeted one another and she told you she had some friends she wanted to introduce you to. Glancing behind you, your eyes found the woman next to Joel and he wasn’t entertained at all by her standing too close for his comfort, rambling on about god knows what. Maria introduced you to almost everyone there when you finally got to the last group of people. A pair of brothers and their friend were sitting at a table alone with beer bottles scattered across in front of them when you approached and Maria gave a quick introduction between everyone. She left to go find Tommy and you sat at the table with the men, asking where they were originally from and how everyone made it to Jackson. 
Joel was eventually out of eyesight as everyone shuffled around the floor, but you knew he was still with the same woman only because her laugh echoed from the same spot behind the sea of people in front of your table. You couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to see Joel. A point had to be made though and he’s been distant towards you ever since you almost got killed when the patrolling people of Jackson didn’t know why you were there or that Joel was Tommy’s brother. So many apologies were said, but he didn’t want to hear it. Ever since then he hasn’t said much of anything, so it was a slap in the face to you when he asked if Ellie and him weren’t enough. 
As the night went on, less and less people shielded you at the table. Joel's eyes landed on where you were, currently playing cards with the men you were actually enjoying talking to. His body was on fire with jealousy, because you couldn't see what he was seeing. They didn’t want to just chat and be friendly and play cards, they wanted more from you. The guy sitting next to you started inching closer, his arm finding its way around your shoulders. You kept knocking it down off of you as you just wanted to win this hand of cards and go home. “Stop, sweetheart. I’m just trying to make you feel comfortable.” the table erupted in laughs and you caught on to what was going on. “Well can we just finish this hand? I’m kinda tired, I need to get back to my boyfriend anyway.” That’s never scared off anyone before and you didn’t know what made you think that would work now. Looking beyond the ones sitting in front of you, you found Joel who had his chair planted just right so you were in his eyesight the entire time. The woman was leaning over him, hand on his thigh as she asked if she should get more beers for the two of them. “No, I think you should go home darlin. I’m sure you don’t want your husband to come lookin for you and find you draped all over me because you’re bored with him, and he’d try to kick my ass like it’s my fault, and the next thing you know you’re not bored because you’ll be taking care of him and his bloody nose.” She hopped down off the stool and gave Joel the middle finger as she walked by him, and a smirk grew on your lips. He couldn’t help but chuckle and look away from you. 
“Boyfriend? Baby you’ve been here with us the past almost two hours, if you had a boyfriend, why would he let a pretty girl like you be here alone?” Your sight locked on the man laughing across the short table across from you, and you held your cards against your chest “I can take care of myself, that's why” and with that, you placed them down to show them you won the game. An arm made its way around you, only this time it was your waist as he pulled you close to congratulate you. You tried wiggling away, but his grip got tighter. Joel could see you struggling and that was all he needed to get up and make his way to your table. His hand landed firmly on the guy's shoulder that was around you and he gave it a good grip. “Do you wanna have a broken arm?  If not I suggest you get the fuck off my girl because I will not hesitate and she won’t hesitate to take out your buddies.” You looked at Joel and restrained a grin as he yanked the guy's arm off you and held out his hand to help you up. He pulled you against his chest, his arm wrapped around you tightly like you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on, and gave you a deep kiss with his other hand cupping your cheek. The kiss said it all, the topic didn’t need to be rehashed. Needless to say, the next day you and Joel had to take the bed frame to the shop and put it back together and reinforce it better.
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kefiteria · 1 month
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Serenity in My Eyes.
Character: scaramouche/wanderer x reader
Tags: fluff, one shot!
Synopsis: just taking a leisurely strolls with scara at cherry blossom park, adorable and short!
🍨 A/N: i got inspiration to wrote fanfic from this song while walking outside earlier today~ He's more of a Wanderer here but I decided to use 'Scaramouche' because it's more natural for me to write it that way~
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“Oh, so you're finally here… took you long enough.” Scaramouche remarked, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes in mock excitement as he spotted you. Despite his sarcastic tone, there was a hint of genuine pleasure at seeing you. The promise to hang out had been made, and spring was the perfect time to catch up, with the cherry blossom in full bloom.
“Hi there!” you greet cheerfully, noticing the crowd gathering around. “Looks like there are more people here than expected. I thought an early morning stroll would mean fewer crowds.”
You shrug your shoulders, but Scaramouche continues walking without waiting for your rambling. “Well, excuse me for trying to lighten the mood.” you mutter under your breath, a hint of annoyance creeping into your tone.
He glances back at you with a raised eyebrow, “Tone it down, will you? It's far too early for that level of energy.” His words are laced with sarcasm, but you detect a hint of amusement in his expression.
As the two of you strolled, Scaramouche couldn't help but comment on the cherry blossom picnics that mortals enjoyed during this season. “Ah, the cherry blossoms,” he mused, “a perfect backdrop for mortals to frolic and gossip.” He glanced around, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “But you know how I feel about crowds.” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Fortunately, a single glare from me and they scatter like leaves in the wind, much to my endless amusement.”
You chuckle softly and remark, “Is it just me, or are you actually enjoying their reactions? Perhaps this stroll with me isn't as tedious as you make it out to be.”
His response comes with a snarky scoff, “Oh, please. Don't get delusional now. Enjoying your company doesn't mean I'm suddenly softening up. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here.” Despite his dismissive tone, there's a subtle twinkle in his eye, hinting at a begrudging acknowledgment of the enjoyment in your presence.
The scattering cherry blossom petals and blooming bushes painted a picturesque scene, but to Scaramouche, it felt like a mundane and random activity. He couldn't comprehend why you chose this as a way to hang out with him.
In his eyes, your simple act of taking a leisurely stroll seemed unfathomable. The way you breathed in the crisp spring air, the gentle warmth of the sunlight caressing your skin, and the delicate petals swirling around you as if in a final dance—all of it left him perplexed. Why did the sun's rays warm his heart? Why did the spring breeze leave him breathless? And why did the falling petals, following your every step, create an impressionist painting-like aura around you?
Despite his analytical mind trying to rationalize it all, there was an undeniable beauty at the moment, a surreal quality that made him question his perceptions of the world around him.
Scaramouche muttered softly to himself as he approached you, his expression a mixture of confusion and frustration. “You… make me confused.” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why do the petals have to fall around you? Why does the sunlight seem to spotlight only you? Why… tell me why, do you make me feel this longing…"
Suddenly, he snapped out of his reverie, his annoyance evident as he scoffed at his thoughts. “Forget it,” he dismissed, shaking his head.
Concerned by his sudden change in demeanor, you offered to move to a quieter spot with fewer people. “Are you okay?” you asked, noticing his preoccupied state.
“Don't bother-” he retorted, but before he could finish his sentence, you handed him a camera, cutting off his words. “Alright, Mr. Snarky Man, how about less scoffing and more pictures!” you exclaimed, striking a pose with a playful laugh.
Caught off guard by your spontaneity, Scaramouche couldn't help but be intrigued. With a reluctant smirk, he raised the camera, silently conceding to your request. Despite his initial resistance, there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he captured the moments with you.
“Ugh, how many pictures am I supposed to take? Hurry, I'm here to indulge in this 'hangout', not become your personal photographer.” Scaramouche grumbled, though his hands continued to snap away, capturing every angle and scenery of the cherry blossom park as you requested.
With a playful grin, you insisted on one last shot—a close-up of you with the beautiful background. Chuckling at his resigned expression, you knew he was trying his best, despite his protests.
As he groaned and reluctantly set the camera's focus on you, you couldn't help but smile at his begrudging cooperation. “Fine, listen to my count,” he instructed, his tone stern yet tinged with amusement. “This is the last one. If it turns out ugly or anything, it's your fault, not mine. Don't whine later.”
You nodded eagerly, ready to strike your pose. “Yeah, I won't complain! Okay, okay, I'm ready!” you declared, beaming brightly at the camera lens as Scaramouche prepared to capture the final shot. Yet a few seconds passed, he didn't click the button.
“Huh? You haven't clicked it, silly!” you exclaimed, holding back your laughter as you maintained your pose.
“I love you.” Scaramouche confessed softly, finally clicking the camera.
And with that heartfelt declaration, the moment was captured, forever frozen in time.
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offtorivendell · 3 months
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No but imagine, Elain - who we know goes to the Palace of Bone and Salt (ACOSF, chapter 17) - accidentally bought black salt. The first time.
Or maybe the House of Wind gave it to her when she was visiting and needed salt one time, it doesn't matter.
But after that, she learnt (as @wingedblooms has theorised) how to commune with a certain, princely feline whom I suspect may be hanging around the House of Wind library. So of course she keeps a small pot of it by the kettle, because nobody besides her (and Nuala and Cerridwen, but they know what it is) use the kitchen, so she can throw it in her tea as required for a little "trip."
Enter Cassian:
"Elain, what are you cooking there? It smells delicious." An exaggerated sniff followed his remark.
"Cat food," Elain replied dreamily.
"When did you get a cat?" Elain often appeared to be off in her own world, so Cassian wouldn't put it past her to get a cat and not mention it.
"Oh, I didn't," Elain replied, as she walked out into the sunny terrace garden, herb basket on her hip.
Cassian: 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨
Or:
Elain had invited Nesta and Cassian over to the townhouse for dinner one night, when Feyre and Rhys were off on official court duty (ie. a family getaway to the cabin, to introduce Nyx to the wonders of snow). Cassian bullied Azriel into tagging along, and because Rhys wouldn't be there, he agreed.
Elain was making a hearty beef stew, with a side of freshly baked bread; the perfect meal for a chilly winter's eve. It had been simmering over the fire long before dusk had threatened to consume the sky, and she had finished seasoning it - even adding a little extra pepper, just for Cassian - moments before Nesta had knocked upon the roof-top door.
It smelt delicious, she couldn't wait to tuck in.
Thirty minutes later, they were sitting down to eat. Cassian shoveled some bread in his mouth as Nesta buttered her roll. Azriel had taken a polite mouthful of stew just as Elain - hungry after a long day in her potting shed and cooking - took a heaped spoon that would have made their mother faint from shock.
The stew was overly salted. Badly. How on earth?
Elain swallowed her mouthful and said, "I'm so sorry, something has happened to the stew. It appears I've put too much salt in it. Hang on and I'll heat up something from the ice box." She started to stand.
Azriel was wearing a funny expression... How mortifying. For him, of all people—her head started to spin with the shame of it.
Averting her eyes, Elain noticed that Cassian was looking incredibly guilty. Her focus narrowed over the roar threatening to consume her, and she was no longer sure it was entirely due to the people pleasing habit that had been forced upon her from childhood.
"What did you do?" Calm, stay calm.
"I, ahh, added some of that finely ground pepper you've got. I'm sorry, I couldn't resist."
"That wasn't pepper." Darkness was creeping into the edges of her vision, her fear all but confirmed, as she warned, "Do not eat the stew, I'll be back in an hour at the most." Azriel had already slumped back into his chair, eyes closed. Oh gods, how would she explain this to him?
Elain closed her eyes and let the darkness take her, opening them to Azriel, dagger at the ready, facing down a fluffy white cat, fur and whiskers abristle, blue eyes wide. If she wasn't so mortified she'd have laughed at the absurd picture they made. Oh well, no time like the present.
"Azriel," she said, standing up tall. "Meet Aidas, the Prince of the Chasm."
This post was brought to you by the ramblings of @cassianfanclub, @psychologynerd and myself. I still haven't finished HOFAS lol - I'm on chapter 75 🐢 - so I could be way off, but this is really just for laughs.
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