#you don’t understand there’s so many pretty dish sets and i need to have them all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingwhimsey · 2 months

Text

Married to the Enemy- Shingen Ch. 7

Chapter 7

After getting myself calmed down, Shingen and I headed to the banquet which was being held in the main hall. My cheeks were still a little red…but well I hadn’t been expecting Shingen to kiss the top of my head like that! It had been such a sweet and affectionate gesture. Noy to mention, he kept my hand in his as we walked towards the banquet.

“I hope you are looking forward to this banquet tonight, Ava.” Shingen said.

I smiled at him, hoping the pink on my cheeks was enough to pass as just being a healthy amount of color. “I am. I always had fun at the banquets in Azuchi.”

“I will see to it you have even more fun.” Shingen replied, smiling warmly.

We soon reached the door to the main hall and Shingen was sliding it open. When we walked in, I was a bit surprised. At Azuchi the banquets, while casual still held a bit of a formal air about them. Everyone had their spots, sitting by rank…pretty much how they sat for war councils. Here everyone was in little pockets of loose groups and there appeared to be no rhyme or reason to it. Everyone seemed to sit where they wanted to.

“We don’t have any kind of formality here, whatsoever.” Shingen said, as if reading my thoughts from my face.

I smiled. “I can see that…I like that.”

Shingen led me around the room, introducing me to a few more of his vassals that were scattered about the room. They were all rather friendly and polite. We soon came to a spot where Kenshin, Sasuke, Kanetsugu, Yukimura, Saki, and Sasuke were seated along with another man I had yet to meet.

The man I had yet to meet, smiled at me as we sat down. He had dark hair which was in a ponytail hanging over his shoulder and a beauty mark under his chin. He had a rather relaxed and yet ethereal air about him.

“Ava, I want you to meet my cousin, Yoshimoto.” Shingen introduced us. “Yoshimoto, this is my wife Ava.”

Yoshimoto smiled at me as he looked me up and down. “What a lovely kimono. Truly a work of art.”

I felt my cheeks flushing. Though I know he was complimenting my clothes…it was still the way he was looking at me…and well I was wearing the kimono. “Thank you.”

“See, aren’t you glad I told you to wear that kimono, Ava?” Saki teased me.

“Did you style her hair as well?” Yoshimoto asked. “It’s simple yet elegant and compliments her face very well.”

It was Saki’s turn to blush now. “I did. I also did her makeup.”

“You did such a lovely job.” Yoshimoto praised. “You did well bringing out her natural beuaty.”

Saki giggled and blushed. “Well, thank you, my lord.”

Yukimura was rolling his eyes. “I don’t know why you two are getting so giggly and blushy over his dumb comments.”

Saki turned to Yukimura with a frown. “Because it’s nice to hear nice things from people.” She answered. “How can you be so dense?”

Kenshin sat looking bored as he downed a cup of sake. “I knew bringing women into this castle would be a bad idea.” He said.

“I think they bring a breath of fresh air into the castle. It has always needed a woman’s touch around here.” Shingen said.

“Surely there are maids and others around the castle.” I replied.

“Yes, but they leave me alone.” Kenshin said. “They do their jobs and stay out of my way.”

“Don’t let Kenshin’s sour disposition bother you.” Shingen assured me. “He’ll be better once he’s had more sake.”

“Don’t forget his pickled plums.” Sasuke added.

Soon trays of food were being set before us. Shingen’s was piled high with sweets. I had a few sweets on my tray, but had several other dishes as well. “This smells and looks delicious.” I said. “I still don’t understand how you can eat so many sweets, Shingen. If I ate that many my stomach would be killing me.”

“I just really enjoy my favorite things.” Shingen replied with a shrug.

“Your wife is right though.” Yukimura spoke up. “It wouldn’t kill you to eat more like she does. You know, like normal people.”

“I guess I could cut back.” Shingen said, lifting a hand and stroking his chin in thought. Then a puckish grin came across his face as he turned those gray eyes to me. “You will help me with that, won’t you Ava?”

“I mean, if you’re wanting me to help you, I guess I can.” I replied. “Though I’m not sure exactly what I can do to help.”

Shingen grinned at me. He was then taking my hand in one of his, while using his other to push his tray away towards Yukimura. “Here, Yuki take this away from me.”

Yukimura eyed his lord skeptically, but did as Shingen requested. He was then bringing him a tray that had a more balanced plate on it.

I looked at mine and Shingen’s joined hands, wondering just what he was up to. “Shingen…”

Shingen looked at me, his eyes warm and an easy smile on his face. “Yes, Ava?”

“What exactly is your plan?” I asked, looking pointedly at our joined hands.

“You’ll see.” Shingen replied. He was then taking a bite of his food, seemingly enjoying it, but he also made a face. “It’s good, but I really do need something sweet to balance it out.” He was then bringing my hand up to place a kiss on the back.

I felt a spark where his warm lips touched my skin and a pleasant tingling sensation worked its way up my arm. “O-oh…wait…am I…now your something sweet?”

Shingen grinned at me. “Beautiful and brilliant.” He said. “Yes, in order to cut back on how many sweets I eat, I’ll just have to steal a kiss every time a craving hits me.”

“Ugh, I should have known he’d do something like this.” Yukimura grumbled. He was then pushing the tray of sweets back towards Shingen. “Here! I’d rather see you eat too many sweets than flirting with your wife.”

Saki was smacking Yukimura on the shoulder. “Oh let them flirt.” She said.

“Them? I don’t see Ava doing anything other than turning into a tomato.” Yukimura countered.

This only made me turn even redder. And while Shingen had accepted his tray, he hadn’t let go of my hand…not that I was complaining. With my free hand, I reached for my sake cup, taking a sip trying to hide my embarrassment.

“I think we should find something else to talk about.” Sasuke said.

“Yes before I get bored and kill all of you.” Kenshin declared.

“Lord Kenshin…” Sasuke said.

“I don’t blame our lord.” Kanetsugu said, refilling Kenshin’s cup.

We all chatted for a while longer, there was more teasing and joking that went on as the banquet went on. I found myself drinking a bit more of my sake than I normally would have…purely out of embarrassment. Shingen continued to hold my hand throughout the banquet, bringing it to his lips every so often and not touching his tray of sweets.

After a while Shingen leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Would you like to get some fresh air, Ava?” He asked, the fingertips of his free hand brushing against my flushed cheeks…which were from a combination of the alcohol and the intoxicating presence that was Shingen.

A pleasant shiver ran down my spine, but I nodded. “Y-yes…”

Shingen turned to everyone else. “We’re going to step out for a bit and get some air. We’ll see you all later.” He said before standing up and then offering me his hand.

I placed my hand in his and allowed him to help me up. I had more to drink than I thought as I was unsteady on my feet. I could feel myself teetering and that was when I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist.

“Don’t worry I’ve got you.” Shingen said to me as he steadied me. Once he was sure I was secure, we started to walk away, his arm still around me.

We made our way outside and were soon standing in a lovely garden. The cool night air was a blessing on my heated cheeks. Shingen led me to a bench that was beside a reflecting pond and helped me to sit down before taking the seat beside me.

I took in a deep breath of the night air. “It is a beautiful night.” I said as I looked around the garden.

“It is.” Shingen agreed. “Thank you for agreeing to come out here with me.”

“Do you like the garden?” I asked.

“It is a pleasant place to be.” Shingen agreed. “But…also I was just being a bit selfish.”

“How so?” I asked, my brow furrowing in confusion.

Shingen smiled as he lifted a hand to caress my cheek. “Because I enjoy seeing this adorable look on your face, but I am not fond of sharing it with anyone else.”

I felt my breath catch at his words. I could tell by the light in his gray eyes that he was completely sincere right now. “And here I thought you…were just trying to be considerate of me.” I teased after a moment.

Shingen chuckled. “Well, there is that too. I thought you could use some fresh air.”

I smiled at him before turning my gaze back to the sky above us, a beautiful crescent moon and a blanket of millions of brilliant stars illuminating the night sky. We sat there in companionable silence for a few moments, both of us just enjoying the night together. Though of course, now was a perfect time to get to know more about Shingen.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve already spoken with Kenshin and the castle seamstresses. They are all in agreement that you would be a welcome addition. I can introduce you tomorrow.” Shingen said before I had the chance to ask him anything.

“Oh, I would love that!” I said, an excited smile on my face. “Thank you, Shingen!”

“Anything to see that beautiful smile.” Shingen replied. “Perhaps after that we can go out on the town. I’ll show you around and if there are any sewing notions you need, we can get them.”

“Oh, we don’t have to do the shopping…but going out does sound nice.” I replied. “I believe you did mention some bakeries and good tea houses here when we had our first date.”

Shingen grinned. “We could indeed visit some of those.” He agreed. “But if we walk around the shops and you see something you need we can still get it.”

I giggled. “I don’t think I should need anything, but I don’t mind walking around town with you.”

“I am happy that my lovely wife is so willing to spend time with me.” Shingen said, smiling at me.

“Well…you are pleasant company.” I replied. I was starting to feel nice and warm and fuzzy…a bit sleepy from the sake I had consumed and some of my defenses were down more than they normally would be. I ended up leaning my head against Shingen’s shoulder…very firm and broad shoulder.

“Are you getting tired, Ava?” Shingen asked, his velvety voice warm.

“Mmm…maybe a little.” I answered. “But…I’m not ready to go to bed yet.”

“Alright.” Shingen replied, moving so that his arm was around me and my head was on his chest as I rested against his side.

“You know…I was really nervous before our wedding.” I said, the alcohol pulling my honest thoughts from me. “I…I was scared of what you might be like. I mean…a man doesn’t get known as a tiger for being cuddly and all.”

Shingen chuckled lightly, but nodded. “I can see how that would be scary.” He said. “How do you feel now?”

“I feel…like I got lucky with you.” I answered. “You’re kind and warm…very warm.” I was nestling into his side further now, enjoying the warmth of his body. “Letting things go at a pace I’m comfortable with and…making sure I can still work…it’s nice.”

“I am glad that I was able to dispel your fears then.” Shingen said, his voice sincere.

“What about you?” I asked. “What were you thinking…before we got married? Were…were you curious about me or concerned?”

“I would think you could tell I was curious.” Shingen answered with a chuckle.

“Hmm, you did intentionally run into me the day before.” I replied. “What were you thinking about me…after that run in?”

“That I was a lucky man to get to marry such a beautiful woman.” Shingen answered. “And perhaps I did some more looking into you before that even.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, turning my head to look up at Shingen.

“I asked Yukimura and Sasuke about you, since I knew they were your friends.” Shingen answered. “And I did ask around Azuchi about you. Everyone was quite taken with their kind princess. Not one person had a bad thing to say about you.”

I felt my cheeks heating up. “Oh…”

“And so once again, I was happy to learn I was a lucky man.” Shingen said once again.

“Now you’re just making me blush…” I said, looking away abashed.

We sat there for a while longer, looking up at the moon and enjoying the silence. I could feel myself relaxing further into Shingen. “I think you might be ready for bed, Ava.” Shingen said.

“Mmm…I think you might…be right.” I replied around a yawn.

Shingen helped me to my feet once again and then walked me back to my room. We were soon standing outside my door. “Have pleasant dreams, Ava.” Shingen said, bringing both of my hands up to his lips and placing a kiss on each hand.

I felt a warm tingly sensation flowing from my hands and up my arms at the touch of his lips. As I looked into his eyes, I was overcome by a strong desire. Shingen was constantly showing me affection…I had the urge to show him some as well. He had shown me so much tonight.

“I had fun tonight and I look forward to our day tomorrow.” I said and quickly leaned close, stretching up to place a kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Shingen.”

Shingen’s gray eyes went wide, but a slow smile spread across those handsome lips. “Goodnight, Ava.” He replied, leaning in to kiss my forehead.

I felt tingly down to my toes and a giddy smile worked its way across my face as I turned to walk into my room. I had been extra sleepy…but now I felt that I might have a harder time getting to sleep than I thought.

Shingen…

Shingen walked back to his own room after escorting Ava to hers, a smile on his face. His cheek felt tingly where she had kissed him. It had been so cute and so sweet…and his response to kiss her forehead had been a sincere reaction.

“I hadn’t been expecting that.” He murmured, his hand going to rest on his cheek, as if he could hold the warmth of her lips there. “I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.”

#ikesen shingen #ikemen sengoku shingen #shingen takeda #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #arranged marriage #au #fanfic #fanfiction #ikemen series #otome boys #cybird

20 notes · View notes

actualyoyo · 1 year

Text

Lemon boy

Bakugou x reader

Pure fluff, cross posted on ao3, gardener bakugou au, next door neighbours, reading is gn, a little angst in the future, multi chapter, inspired by lemon boy by Cavetown, meet cute, soft bakugou

The sky was grey and the moving truck was loud, at least that’s all you could note when you hear the machinery sounds it’s making.

“Morning!” Some old lady says “Moving in? Nice to have you” she says “I’ve been wonderin’ whos gonna be my new neighbor” she says with a joyful smile.

“Yep, haha.” You say awkwardly giving her a smile and a wave.

“I mean that neighbor we have across the road is a real grouch…. Not to intrude of course haha” she waves her hand as she gossips like old ladies like too.

Though honestly it makes you more curious, some old man with wrinkles and a Cain probably? I mean look at that garden he probably says things like “get off my yard!!!!” Well throwing rocks at the neighbourhood kids.

“I’ll be wary then,-“

“Ah do you enjoy gardens dear?” She probably noticed your staring, you think. “there’s a nice community one down the road by pigeon creak.”

“Oh I’ll make sure to check it out…” she try’s to continue to talk about why it’s called pigeon creak.

“Y/n!!! The driver needs you to sign something!!!!” You thank your friend internally as you scurry off to sign the paper work after saying goodbye.

“Ew talking to old people?” She laughs

“Guess so” you say awkwardly trying to focuse on reading the papers, you sign your name and pass them back

“Your stuffs all in the house,” she says sighing.

“Alright, I need to start setting stuff up then…” you think for a moment.

“Oh about that…. Me and Akita are gonna go out for lunch!” You internally roll your eyes.

“Wooowww…. Really Hina? Blowing me off for your boyfriend?” Again.

“You don’t understand!!! Once you have a boyfriend you’ll understand!!! Aki means the world to me!!!” She holds your shoulders.

“More important than my old over grown duplex? Mean!” You say dramatically. She rolls her eyes and dramatically spins around as the moving truck drives off and Akita and Hina get in his car.

“Great.” First house and you have to house warm it all by yourself or what ever.

Akita set up your bed frame and you and Hina pushed your furniture around but other than that you were living in the shell of a house.

First thing a trip to the grocery store was in order, it’s pretty far out from down town so it’s cheaper, still expensive though. And the people here are nice enough, too friendly at most. You spend the trip with your headphones in listening to some random song on your playlist, that night you eat microwave Ramen for dinner and pass out in your bed.

When your alarm clock rings you are already up. Thinking about yesterday and how today will go. You step outside to try to get a fresh breath of air to escape the worry plagued world of your mind. Sitting on the porch quietly.

All you could think well doing this is “god this is embarrassing” as if it wasn’t your house and all you were doing was sitting.

In your mind you started making your todo list for the day

-clean and put away dishes

-set up bath room

-set up kitchen

-holy fucking shit he’s hot

Who in the living earth is that holy fuck. When you look up from your lap a door slams shut and a tall dude comes out.

Tall, blonde and spiked hair, loose denim shorts and red loose shirt. He had on a brown apron with gardening tools in the pockets and in his hands he had a kneeling pad and separated tool box with other gardening equipment.

Suddenly you felt exposed in your pj pants and throw on shirt.

He looked gruff, hard on the eyes but in a good way. He was scowling very clearly, and when he looks straight at you your brain almost went into flight or fright mode.

Silently you watched him work on his beautiful garden. Roses, bleeding hearts, sun flowers, vines, you could smell the lilacs and and lavender from across the road. So many flowers you didn’t even know the name of, or have even seen before.

He pulled out weeds and carried the water jug like it was nothing, cutting the stems off of flowers and putting them in a basket.

As much as you wanted to stay and watch you knew it would be weird if he saw you looking at him again.

I mean not that you liked him, you aren’t a teenager. Just you liked looking at him or something, every one needs a little eye candy in their life you remind yourself as you get dressed for the day.

It’s 5 when you finish most of your todo list, satisfied you decide that the reason you liked watching the gruff neighbour who apparently was an ass according to your old lady neighbour was because his garden was cool, so you’ll just have to take a trip down to the garden she mentioned by the pigeon creak she said.

You called Hina like 10 times before she picked up, you talked about your day well you walked there. You know, before she got swept up in talking about her drama with her other friends that you didn’t really like much. At least her and Akita were going steady, you remind yourself. As you hang up after saying good bye when you get closer.

The gardens pretty, better phrasing, it’s beautiful, like that gruff dudes yard. It’s peaceful and big but not to spacious to make it feel uncomfortable but still enough room to move around and pick veggies and flowers. Each category was in a different sections with small section inside for each individual plant type.

Trees for fruits were pushing into the back of the garden that was surrounded with a wood hand made fence that had white fairy lights around it and bottom surrounding the outside. There was a sign out side it reading “pigeons creak community garden” and something about preventing hunger and raising a sense of community and that the flyer will tell you more. You grabbed the flyer, skimming through it, nothing too interesting to read right now.

The night was just beginning to set and you had a sweet sense of calmness. Maybe this is what people mean by nature is therapy or whatever white moms with white font spice jars say.

You open the latch on the gate and walk down the rock path and sit on one of the many benches.

You sigh. It really does feel you can breathe better now. With out the worry of work starting tomorrow or the things you have to do with your new home or how Hina is in so much drama like usual or anything else. You can finally breathe.

“Hey” a scratchy and deep voice says to you “huh?” You spin your head around uncomfortably “don’t sigh like that you’re ruining the mood!” It’s your hot grouchy neighbour “huh??” Is all you can say. “Why..” you say with out thinking “too loud” he narrows his eyes at you as he stands up from the planter box he was weeding “new neighbour.” He says, you don’t really know why he said it though.

“I am…” you laugh nervously. Why is he scowling like that well coming up to you like he’s gonna pounce on you. “The flowers will suck in your sadness. Don’t ruin my shit!”

“Whaa...?????” You say in a scared and confused manner “I’m sorry about your flowers… sir….” He looks at you even more upset “don’t call me sir that’s my dad!”

“Oh sorry!….what do I call you then…” you slip in quietly. He looks at you for a moment, you can tell his face switches to puzzled for a second before going back to a more “relaxed” scowl.

“Bakugou….bakugou katsuki”

“Y/n l/n” you smile uncomfortably. maybe he can be another friend? A hot one too. Not some old lady.

“My dad started this garden so…. Don’t go messin’ it up” he swats his hand at you like you’re a troublesome kid.

“Right. Try not to” you smile at him. This conversation may be weirdly awkward but you don’t mind for the sexy neighbour.

“You live across the street” he states the obvious as he stands behind you, he places his hands on the benches back, either sides of your shoulders.

“I just moved in” “I know”

“Your front yard is shitty,” he growls. “it’s bad I know” you laugh to lighten the mood “bad. Fix it. Makes mine look shitty. Ruins the atmosphere” you look at him silently. Who does he think you are?

“Well I-uhm already am doing a lot ya know? Inside the house so I don’t have time to get to it right now and I-“

“Why” he interrupts you

“What.” You say annoyingly. What’s this guys problem!?

“I’m starting a new job tomorrow… and I have moving and unpacking to do in th-my house” he turns his head in confusion

“You haven’t finished that shit yet?” He groans at you. “No? I don’t have any help…” you trail off quietly.

“Why the hell not?????” He slams hands down. Your neck is starting to hurt in this position so you stand and turn around to face him. “My friends are all busy…. And no one I know lives close anyways!” You say annoyed. “Fine.”

“Fine.” You say back like you understand what he’s thinking “if you insist then.” He folds his arms together and sighs “what?” You say flatly.

“If you need help that bad!” What???? “What?!” You shake your head in cluelessness.

“Fine, I’ll come over tomorrow and help you move around shit and shit or whatever.” He says it like you know each other, like that sentence is grammatically correct and made any sense.

“Right when did I say that…” you whisper. “It’s alright I don’t need the help…” you do but you don’t even know this guy. You can’t just let him in your house. “Besides I work tomorrow”

“You clearly do, call in sick.” He shakes his head like you’re stupid or something “I can’t call in sick on my first day!” You say dramatically.

He laughs at you “right. Fine when do you get off” he says nonchalantly like you guys are close or something “5 pm” you say with out thinking “I’ll be at yours at 5” “uhm okay thanks but I-“ what if your a serial killer who’s gonna murder me then sell my body parts on the black market!!!! “Don’t worry I’m not gonna do anything bad” he says it like it’s weird thing to think.

“I’m glad you know it’s what I’m thinking” you say frankly “but honestly the fact you gotta say it is a red flag” you quip back “fine. I’m gonna murder you and use you as plant fertilizer. My big secret. that’s why my flowers are so nice.” He says it like it’s a matter a fact well the corners of his mouth pull up slightly.

“Not surprised with your attitude mr. Bakugou” you shrug your shoulders.

“Stop it with that, and what’s that supposed to mean?!” He puts his hands on his hips. “All your flowers must be sucking in your temper all the time mr.”

“That’s my dad! I told ya, shut up! And well it’s working, must be! Cause my flowers are the best in the neighbourhood!! In the town!” He argues. “Alright” you try to hide your amusement.

You stop the time on your go phone from the corner of your eye, “I should be going now” you sigh. “You should be” he says annoyed, but for some one who wants you gone he sighs like he’s gonna miss your company just as much as you’ll miss his. “See you tomorrow then?” You say.

“Hm?” he raises his eye brows like he didn’t expect you to let him come over “yeah. Don’t make dinner I will” he turns around “what! No nee-“ “leave!” He shouts behind himself as you. You jump back and begin to walk back to the gate and set your self on the path home.

Almost wishing he was walking you home like some teenage love story. Stupid. You say. Stupid you say when you fall asleep thinking about your grouchy, sexy, funny neighbour.

125 notes · View notes

dujour13 · 1 year

Note

"kissing the top of their head as you hold them ." ?

“Can we just stay here? Send somebody else, I dunno. I’m done hikin’ around the Worldwound.”

Siavash chuckled. “This crusading business is becoming inconvenient, I know.” He stretched languorously under the warm blankets, enjoying the last few minutes of comfort.

One way to put it. Woljif rolled on his back and blinked wistfully at the dim glow of dawn in the high Citadel window. His mind began to wander, as it did sometimes in the early hours. What if Siavash hadn’t been the chief? What if he didn’t have these strange powers, would he still be in love with him? If he had arrived in Kenabres safely with the Andoren Diplomatic Corps, and somehow they’d met, would Woljif have taken any more interest in him than to pick his pockets?

Yeah.

Yeah, he would. A bard with a voice like that, a smile like that. He’d have been hooked. And it would have been so much better than this. He would have taken him around to all his haunts in Kenabres and they’d score a couple heists together—and maybe happen across a certain Count, who would immediately see their potential for mischief and not look down his nose at them at all—and then they would travel around. Garund, where it was warm. And Andoran. Siavash would take him to meet his family. They would all eat supper together around a big table, his parents and all his sisters too. Siavash’s father would call him ‘Son’ and his mother would offer him seconds. He would help with the dishes. That’s what you did.

But Siavash’s mind was not wandering in the same direction. He propped himself on one elbow suddenly, his eyes wide in the gray gloom.

“I have to do it,” he said.

It took Woljif a second to shake off the reverie and realize he meant the crusading. The Ivory Sanctum.

“I don’t—”

“Too many people depend on me. There are mysteries I need to solve,” he said, slightly breathless. He buried his face against Woljif’s chest and whispered, “I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

It seemed to Woljif that his scrawny chest could offer scarce comfort to the Knight-Commander of the Fifth Crusade, but somehow it didn’t feel all that wrong. He stroked his hair, choking on an upwelling of sympathy.

“I get it,” he whispered.

It was true. How many hours had he spent in private, turning the Moon of the Abyss over and over in his fingers, trying to make sense of it. He’d wanted it with a burning passion all his life, and now that he had it, he didn’t know what in every layer of the Abyss he was supposed to do with it. A legacy he could never live up to. Maybe Gramps had left some instructions? But by now he was sure the cloudy crystal contained no hidden message. There were no mysterious runes or magic words engraved on it. No secret compartments. Yet he felt it, even now, humming against the skin of his throat as if charged up and waiting for something. A tingle of magic radiated out from it and down to the tips of his fingers. He didn’t understand what was happening to him either, and that was more than a little worrisome. Imagine that on a whole other scale: wounded, imbued with mythic powers, set at the head of a Crusade with no instructions either.

“I keep telling myself one thing at a time,” Siavash said against his skin, holding him tighter. “We just have to save the Wardstone. We just have to take Drezen. We just have to go to the Ivory Sanctum and stop the purple crystal demons, and then it’ll be all right. And it’s never over, and at one point I’m not going to be up to it, and I’ll let everyone down. Or be dead. Or both. Or make one little mistake, like Staunton, and it’ll be a catastrophe.”

“That was a big mistake, chief.”

“An easy one to make. And—”

“Hey, you’re the guy who says to follow your heart and everything’ll work out.”

“I know. Don’t tell anyone how scared I am.”

“I got your back.”

“Woljif, I—you—you are the best thing that’s happened to me.”

For a second Woljif thought this was it—Woljif, I—but no. Pretty good anyway. He wrapped his tail around Siavash’s leg and kissed the sweet, straw-colored hair at the top of his head. “Ain’t I?”

#thanks for the ask!!#i love this prompt and this is going into my new chapter now #starlightcleric #siavash x woljif

16 notes · View notes

thestartofabeautifulride · 1 year

Text

I’ve started casually looking at dinnerware sets, because we eventually need to replace what we have. Like, it’s a set for 4, so obviously when I trust my kids to regularly use breakable dishes it’s totally not doable. But on top of that we’ve had a big plate and a small plate get broken. But man, I understand the concept of having mugs included, so you’ve got matching ones. I can appreciate the aesthetic. But I sure do wish such a large percentage of sets didn’t include mugs. We already have way too many mugs, and I really have no desire to add another 6-8 mugs just because they come with a dinnerware set. 😅 Though if I find one that checks all the boxes, but includes mugs, I guess it is what it is. Because we are so particular about dishes. In particular bowls. So many of them are pretty small and my husband will complain about tiny bowls forever. 😂

Also, completely on the topic, at what point do you start giving kids just regular ceramic plates and such? Like realistically I think Clara and Waylon would both be fine, but I still just use those full sized plastic dinner plates from Target for the kids to eliminate the risk. But I don’t know at what point it’s weird for them to still have separate plastic dishes. Maybe we’ve already passed it. 🤣

4 notes · View notes

rhythm-catsandwine · 4 months

Text

Chap-4 Dinner and Gifts

Master list and Life

Notes: You'll find some clues to what happens. Some for just fun some that are not fun.

Justin didn’t know what to call the place that Maynard took him to eat dinner. It was like a pub, grill, and winery in one. Food and drink are equally famous for low prices but amazing quality. He didn’t know what to order. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when the other ordered for them. Soon a charcuterie board of meats, cheeses, fruit, and nuts was put before them, enough food for them both.

“Why does Cap hate being landside so much? It’s like it eats at him every day or sometimes every hour.” Justin wandered.

Maynard swallowed one of the many tiny sips of wine from the set meant for tasting. “Don’t know. The way I see it If we need to know he’ll tell us. Why tread where we ain't welcome? Paul tried to ask a few items. Adam nearly tossed him out of the ship above “Persephone”. “

“Wot stoped em?” Justin nibbled on a small chunk of cheese. It reminded him of the fresh dairy he helped make back home.

“We needed a pilot and none of us can fly the ship. Then Paul just abandoned us. Left us stranded. So Danny started teaching us how she worked. Adam taught himself how to fly. But we couldn’t go on like that for long. Three ain't enough for a crew.” He inched the huge wooden board closer to the younger man. “Eat. It’s on me”

Justin tried each different cheese and bits of meat. Each one had its own flavor but everything seemed to go together and complement the rest. After the little tap on his calf from the other he pulled his curls behind his ear. Moments later the other mirrored him. Dark auburn hair tucked behind one ear. Justin tried to understand their cook and medic, ever since he stepped foot on “Shadow.” But he could never get a hold of anything. He wasn’t like Adam, who always had some part or new side of him to discover. It was like he couldn’t grasp anything solid. He wanted to sleep with him, but he didn’t know if it was out of curiosity or attraction. Would Maynard ever feel the same? Maynard seemed to like him well enough. He somehow got a dish or treat if money and the situation allowed it. The cook made him pastries like his mom used to make and brought him a few beers that reminded him of the pubs he frequented as soon as he came of age. Maynard always took note if one of them liked something. It was the small things that made the black a little more bearable.

“You’ve been a little off since we landed. You okay?” Maynard handed him a little sandwich of two different cheese slices with a round slice of meat between them. “Try this.”

“I’m jus worried bout em.”

“He gets extra paranoid and sometimes cynical this time of year. Always tries to convince James and Rowen to come with us. But now he has you for comfort. Thank god! Before it was just me, and James when he could get him. I couldnt keep up with him and Dan. Promise me you won't go monogamous with our dear captain.

“Like I can resist Dan.” “i also kinda want you too.” Justin tried the little sandwich Maynard made for him. His eyes grew wide as soon as it touched his lips. The cheeses were a perfect balance of sharp and creamy. The meat was spicy but not too much as to burn your tongue off.

Maynard chuckled and smirked. “Looks like you have a few new favorites. Just in time for your birthday in what? Like a few days?”

“Yeah.”

Once they were done with their meal Maynard paid and then grabbed Justin by the shoulder. “. Nightlife here is not exactly fun. We need to pick up some wine from a friend and meet Dan before we head to the rooms for the night. “ He ran his hand through those soft brown curls.

"Stop doing that!” Justin pulled the mess of tangled curls from his face.

“Come along curly q. Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be caught here alone at night.”

“Wot bout cap?”

“He’s fine on his own.”

Adam opened his eyes as James stretched in his arms. “I’ve missed this. Missed you.” He said as he sat up, looking around the room they were in. After he made two promises they were on top of each other. The little redhead was way stronger than he looked. James called it “farm strong.” The room was a sensory heaven, with blue walls and dim lighting. Just a dresser and a chair with extra blankets resting on it filled the room.

“Same. You should probably head out. I think we overslept a bit.” The window above their heads no longer spilled light. A gentle rumble of thunder rolled over them. This weather was James' favorite. Adam almost wished he could stay there a little longer. Maybe spend the night.

“You know you could always come with us. Right?” Adam reluctantly pulled himself out of bed and started searching for his clothes. Everything was in a trail leading from the door. “Since we only use two of the crew bunks.”

“Really? Just two?” James was sitting with his back against the headboard, hair falling like fiery rivers down to his hips. “Didn’t turn one into I dunno an art studio or anything?”

He pulled his black hooded tunic over his head. “Maynard made one into an extra greenhouse. He wasn't to use Justin's old one to finally have cats on the ship. He argues the health benefits of having them. Something with their purrs. They would stay in that bunk most of the time. So they can't sneak off when we're landside.”

James smirked. “You gonna let him? I agree with him. Makes the black less lonely.”

“If the getts to Justin. I’ll have to. Danny has asked a few times. Said they make the best familiars.” He picked up his coat, noticing it was heavier than when he arrived. He narrowed his eyes at the other.

“I couldn’t let you leave empty-handed. Especially if you keep offering me and Rowen spots on your crew.” James had climbed out of bed and padded over, wrapped in a blanket. “ Make me one more promise.”

“Reall? A third one?”

“Brush up on how to fight, and you know the rest of it. I have a feeling that something's wrong or gonna happen. It feels weird. You know what happens when I feel that,” It was a statement, not a question. “ Don't take a risk unless you have to. Be extra careful. Keep everyone close. “ They kissed short but passionate.” Rowen and I have been talking. This place we got here was never meant to be permanent. It's almost time to move again. We may be calling on y'all for that. Haven't found a place yet though.” They hugged tight, rocking back and forth slightly.

“I will. If something happens remember we’ll drop everything and come to get you both. Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Oh. and one more thing.”

“What?’ he wined almost like a braty teenager.

“There’s a book in a bag on the table closest to the door. Rowen's been trading recipes with anyone who passes through. He made an extra book of them for Maynard.”

“Thanks.” Adam hugged and kissed the other one last time, before turning to leave. He ran down the hall, down the stairs, and grabbed the huge book in its leather bag from the table

The clouds were gray, and rain started to fall once he stepped outside. He entered the code to lock the door again. He put the book under his coat to keep it extra safe from the falling water, even though the bag was for that. James always kept track of the weather. So this wasn’t unplanned.

By the time Adam got to their rooms, he was shivering, hair soaked but the gift for Maynard was still dry as dirt. He unlocked the door and found his crew watching TV together. Danny was in the center of the couch, and Justin was sleeping, snuggled up against him. Maynard lying so his bare feet were in Danny’s lap and his head lying on the pillow at the other end.

“Here.” He handed Maynard the thick collection of recipes.

“Thanks,” Maynard got up and started walking toward his and Danny's room. They always joined rooms when they could. It was convenient for a crew as tight as theirs and a polycule. “You look like a half-drowned rat.”

“Thanks.” He rolled his eyes, even though the other wouldn't see.

Danny got up, letting Justin fall to the cushions. Waking him up. “You were gone longer than we thought. You and James do more than catch up?”

“We haven't seen each other in like, a year. Where are you going? I’ve barely seen you this entire time.”

Danny was following his partner to the other room. “I had people to see. Friends to fuck, food to try.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“Maynard needs help deciding what to make first.” The door between their rooms shut gently.

Justin rubbed his eyes trying to wake up. “Yer soaked.” He ran his hands through a few of Adam’s dark soaked locks. “Let me take care of you for once.” He gestured toward the bathroom with the huge bathtub and shower.

“Hang on.” Adam emptied his pockets, placing five bundles wrapped in some kind of waterproof paper. One was long and narrow, the rest various sizes in the shape of bricks. “Gifts from James.”

“Er you and em?” Justin started pealing the other's clothes from his damp body.

“I love him about as much as you. We’ve been through a lot together. N yeah we fucked. You ain't jealous are you?”

“I’m jus happy you have someone else as I do,” he smirked feeling that warm feeling that some get when a partner finds a new boyfriend or girlfriend or partner. “ Whasn’t there a name for this feeling?”

Danny flipped through the handmade book from Rowen. “Justin might like this one. Adam this one.” He tapped each recipe as he spoke.

“Justin’s worried about Adam.”

“We all worry about him. If he’d just tell us whatever happened with James and that school they went to.”

“I was thinking. Maybe it's more of what happened to them than with.” Maynard handed the other the tiny colored strips of paper, that had a sticky patch, to mark pages of a book. In their case, the colors meant who would like each recipe. Blue for Justin, red for Adam, Yellow for Maynard, and purple for Danny,

Danny sighed and pushed the book back across the table they were sitting at. “I heard from more than a few friends that, something is going on in the Verse. Reavers are more active, and expanding their part of space. People are picking sides. The Alliance versus the Resistance and Brown Coats. Things are just off. Then I did a tarot reading and it had “Death” and “The Devil”. So-”

“That’s just rumors, feelings, and a card game.”

“I don’t think so. My intuition says somethings gonna happen.”

“Intuition is just when one part of your brain figures something out and the other part hasn’t caught up yet. In your case, it may never catch up.”

"Shut up.”

“Make me.” Maynard folded his arms.

"Is that a threat of a challenge?”

“What does your intuition say?”

“Fuck you.”

“Please.”

“So it was a challenge.” Danny got up and picked up the smaller man, bridal style.

“Sure tell yourself that.” Maynard found himself flying through the air to land on the bed.

#ashland writes #rpf #tw rpf #tool band rpf

0 notes

designdekko · 11 months

Text

How to select a dinnerware set that matches your home decor?

Are you someone with a massive appetite for home entertainment – always on the hunt to select unique dinnerware sets to pile high with your favourite foods and embellish your dining table a little more? If yes, here we are hosting a casual affair of uplifting your Sunday brunch – and dazzling your guests with the right pieces of dinnerware and advice (from us to you!)

Also Read | 10 kitchen design ideas inspired by farmhouse style

From plates to platters, fetching exquisite pieces for the home decor is an inevitable battle that never seems to end – become c’mon let’s face it, is enough ever enough? No matter how many hours have whittled away, there can never be a shortage of dinnerware to marvel over. And while this can be mesmerizingly inspiring, it can be pretty intimidating – especially if you wanna make every at-home get-together esoteric and memorable.

But hey – guys, we understand you get giddy with excitement the minute we mention dinnerware, but do you know what exactly to look for when buying them? Huh?! Here’s an interesting guide to selecting a dinnerware set that matches your home decor!

Also Read | Beginners guide: Creative ideas for styling your new living space

How to Select a Dinnerware Set that Matches Your Home Decor?

Your hands might age, and your bodies will change; you’ll still be the same, but how strong is your home decor game? Rhyming aside, the right dinnerware set is key when setting up a stylishly refined dining table. Guys, see, y’all need to find an apt size that matches your decor and your living standards. We don’t wanna settle on some basic white stuff, do we?

There are oh-so-many factors (which we’ll discuss in this blog post) that go into selecting the right dinnerware set. Keeping quality, lifestyle, designs and colours, along with some friendly tips, we have compiled an extensive guide to make your dinnerware exploration an enjoyable cakewalk. Now, let’s begin, shall we?

Also Read | How to select a dinnerware set that matches your home decor?

Call it what you may – dishes, plates or crockery – are the focal points of your dinner table any freakin’ day! But before you start wondering – Oh, I wanna choose this pattern – Geez, this colour is gorg – you need to hold your horses and focus on what ‘material’ you want. Bone china, porcelain, stoneware, earthenware and melamine are the most common dinnerware materials – that last longer than the slowest moving line in the grocery store (pun intended!)

Let’s explore the benefits of each of these dinnerware materials to allow you to make a conscious decision:

Bone China: Bone China is a lightweight, long-lasting, and versatile alternative for dinnerware. As the name suggests, it is the strongest China range and is microwave and dishwasher-safe.

Earthenware: Emanating an air of value, the earthenware material is known for its casual appeal but immense sturdiness. It’s one of the oldest industrial materials that will potentially last decades.

Porcelain: As versatile as a material could ever be, porcelain has a non-porous surface and phenomenal durability. It even comprises metallic accents and can typically be a microwave no-go.

Melamine: Melamine material is an entertainer’s dream, being shatterproof (gosh…) and harder to break or chip – thus, making it perfect for outdoor use.

Stoneware: Stoneware dinnerware sets encompass a glazing surface with an impermeable finish, making it effective for everyday and occasional use. They’re exquisitely durable – however, ensure you don’t expose them to extreme hot or cold temperatures.

Also Read | Timber hybrid office ensemble EDGE Suedkreuz Berlin

Like dry shampoo makes dreams last longer, so does the dinnerware style. From casual to classic, dramatic or romantic – there are myriads of dinnerware sets on the market today that ensure dining in style. But lovelies, how do you decipher “this is the right design for me?” Okay, well, let’s give y’all some thought to the types of gatherings you host, and then you can decide on the style.

Also Read | New edb products Spring/Summer 2023

So, what kinda gatherings do you usually host – are they creative, relaxed, or traditional? If you enjoy entertaining in many ways (and for an assortment of guests), you may want to invest in more than one set. Just think about your closet and the variety of clothing styles you wear.

Be sure to take notice of the different shapes and sizes – and whether they complement the home decor and coordinate with one another. Incorporating a personal yet fun element into your dinnerware set is paramount. While they are available in helluva designs and colours, ranging from classic to contemporary, you wanna narrow down on the ones that reflect your style statement (we won’t limit your personality, so go all out!)

Where we would limit you is the material choice – the more formal dinnerware sets are usually made from china or porcelain, or stoneware materials. Earthenware and melamine make great casual dinnerware sets. Thus, it’s best to opt for durable shatter-resistant dinnerware sets and dishwasher/microwave-safe.

Also Read | Tips to care for your houseplants this winter

Now that we’re aware of the styles of dinnerware, it’s time to go beyond formal and casual designs. We can further divide dinnerware sets into four style categories: hand-painted, patterned, solid, and banded. A great way to explore your taste and bestow your home a grand finish, choose colours and categories that ideally complement your overall decor. Good luck with that!

Phew! Now that we’re done with the different types and styles of dinner sets that look best let’s delve into some dinnerware colours, yeah?

When selecting your dinnerware set, the colour you choose can make or break the look of your home decor. It is important to consider the colour scheme of the room where you plan to use the dinnerware and choose a colour that complements your existing home decor. Neutral colours like white, cream, and grey are often best for creating a timeless aesthetic that will never go out of style. Bright colours like yellow, orange, and red can add a pop of vibrancy and create an inviting atmosphere.

Also Read | oPTIK, a new interactive sound and light installation in New York City

For example, porcelain dinner sets offer a range of classic and contemporary colours such as black, gold, blue, green, pink, and mauve-tinted ivory tones. On the other hand, melamine dinner sets come in vibrant hues such as reds and oranges, perfect for adding brightness to any room. Likewise, you can choose what colour best suits your interior decor and opt for it accordingly.

Those who prefer something more subtle than bright shades but still want to add style to their dining experience should consider pastels. Soft blues and pinks are great options that will add sophistication without overwhelming the rest of your home’s decor. You can also opt for muted earth tones like olive greens or browns that blend beautifully with wooden furniture pieces.

Also Read | Designing a multi-themed room for a toddler

Finally, it is important to remember that when selecting dinnerware colours it is not just about aesthetics; it also has practical implications. Lighter-coloured plates tend to show food stains more easily than darker ones – so if you have young children or messy eaters at home, then dark-coloured plates may be better suited for your needs.

When it comes to selecting the perfect dinnerware set for your home, you need to take into account your lifestyle. You may begin to think, “How has my dinnerware collection got anything to do with my lifestyle,” but oh well, it does! Let’s say you have a huge family and y’all frequently host, so – you’ll want a dinnerware set that can accommodate that many people and be durable enough to stand the test of time. On the contrary, a smaller dinnerware set is more apt if you’re a bachelor and live alone or with one other person.

Also Read | Arabic Resin art decor launches by Artist Madhavi Adalja

When selecting a dinnerware set, the number of people using the dinner set regularly should also be considered. If you usually only have two people at the table, then a four-person place setting might not be necessary; however, if you often host larger gatherings, then it could be worth investing in an extra plate or two for each setting.

It is also important to look at how the design of the dinnerware fits in with your dining area decor. Consider both colour and pattern – do they complement one another? If so, this is a great way to add visual interest to your table without clashing with existing furniture or accessories.

Finally, make sure that you determine what budget is available for purchasing a new dinnerware set before making any decisions about size or style; this will help ensure that you can find something within your price range that meets all of these criteria. With all these factors in mind, readers are now ready to make an informed decision on their ideal dinnerware set!

Also Read | Kareena Kapoor Khan’s new home in Bandra with European styled decor & wooden detailing

How to check for quality and durability?

When it comes to opting for the ideal dinnerware set, you should always consider quality and durability. Be sure to pay attention to weight; heavier sets tend to be sturdier and more reliable over time. Furthermore, inspect the edges for any sharpness or imperfections in glazing – uneven glazing could indicate that the pieces have not been fired properly. Additionally, watch out for signs of chipping or discolouration which can signify low-quality materials or poor craftsmanship in production.

If you’re looking at vintage sets, check for lead or cadmium in glazes as well as other toxins such as arsenic and uranium oxide – lead-free dinnerware is a much safer option than those with traces of these elements. The design of your chosen set is also important – opt for timeless yet modern pieces that will blend seamlessly with existing home decor without clashing too much with other items. Think about how many people you usually serve – if large family gatherings are common, then you might want to purchase a 16-piece set so everyone can join in on the fun!

Also Read | Shiro Kuramata’s Samba-M shines again with Ambientec at the supersalone in Milan

By considering all of these factors before buying, you can rest assured that your new dinnerware will have an extended lifespan while also adding a touch of style and sophistication to your home!

When opting for a dinnerware set, baskets full of factors are to be considered – by it the material, style, colour, or usage (as to how many times the dinner set is being used). Budget is another key consideration when selecting a dinnerware set; it is important to determine a budget before shopping for dinnerware so that you can find sets that fit within your price range. Lastly, look for designs and styles that will fit in with your home decor; try to select pieces that match or complement the existing furniture or colour scheme in your home.

Also Read | 4 ways to style your interior spaces with copper

When searching for unique dinnerware sets online, India Circus offers an extensive selection of handcrafted dinner sets for all kinds of needs and preferences. Their colourful collections feature high-quality materials such as bone china from Jaipur and porcelain from Pondicherry; they offer sleek modern designs as well as intricate traditional patterns. Whether looking for something contemporary or classic, India Circus has something for everyone.

All in all, selecting the right dinnerware set requires careful consideration of many factors: lifestyle requirements, quality standards, design preferences, colour saturation, shape options and budget restrictions must all be taken into account when making the perfect choice. With this information in mind, you will find the ideal dinnerware set that fits your lifestyle and home decor!

Also Read | Visioarq wins Architizer 2022 Architecture + Wood

People, Bruno Mars, cannot always be right – not everything can look amazing just the way it is – we gotta make things look prettier and uptight!

If you’ve ever been searching for new dinnerware and have been oh-so-overwhelmed by the options – being tempted to get everything, but your bank didn’t allow it? Worry not; dinnerware is so much more than just plates and bowls – it is style, design, and colour – yep!

Also Read | Interior stylist Bhawana Bhatnagar on smart lockers at residential spaces

Make sure whatever you choose – material and design are key. But it’s also crucial to select a set or a combination of pieces that best reflect you, your home, and your guests! Grab the best dinnerware sets from India Circus – visit our website and add fun and exciting pieces to your collection today!

How Many Place Settings Should I Buy?

The standard dinnerware set includes eight place settings, but you may purchase extra – because, like we said in the beginning, enough is never! If you love to host and entertain your guests, you may also wanna pick up pieces that create your place settings. Consider all the above parameters – type, style, material, and colours – and choose correctly!

Top 3 tips for buying the perfect dinnerware

Here are a few tips that you may consider to purchase the perfect dinnerware for your home:

Don’t be afraid to mix and match: While opting for all-white kitchenware decor is classic, don’t be afraid to play with the colours, patterns, and sizes. Customize everything beautifully!

Get the right size of dishes for your shelves and dishwasher: Design and everything will go to waste if you can’t store them properly. Hence, get dishes that fit your shelves and dishwasher.

Don’t skimp on quality: While many cheap dinnerware sets are available, always opt for quality.

Also Read | Creating expensive-looking decor on a budget

Why choose India Circus for dinnerware?

Do y’all want the best of the best dinnerware sets for your home that blends in gorgeously with your home decor and features an aesthetic yet functional appeal? If yes, India Circus is your destination! From vibrant colours to sophisticated designs, India Circus offers premium-quality kitchen dinner sets that will ablaze your dinner table! Every piece is crafted with intricate craftsmanship, making it a jewel to elevate your dining experience!

In addition to quality assurance, India Circus pays close attention to design elements to provide customers with options that perfectly suit their tastes. From classic designs featuring neutral colours and earth tones to bolder prints featuring vibrant hues or intricate patterns – there’s something available at India Circus for any style preference! You can also customize certain pieces to get exactly what you’re looking for. India Circus dedicates itself not only to providing excellent quality products but also giving back to its communities by partnering up with organizations like “Design For Change”, which empowers children around the world with the tools they need to create positive change in their own lives and local communities. When purchasing from India Circus, customers can rest assured knowing that they are getting top-notch products while supporting a good cause!

Also Read: Easy Guide To Choose A Color Palette For Your Space

Final words

Shopping for the perfect dinnerware set can be daunting; after all, it is an important decision that will have a lasting impact on your home. However, carefully considering and researching the ideal pieces to complement your decor should not be difficult!

To ensure you get the best quality items, look for certified lead-free products made with precision using only the finest materials. Additionally, consider existing furniture and colour scheme in your home when selecting colours from classic neutrals to vibrant hues. India Circus offers an extensive selection of handcrafted dinner sets online that are ethically sourced and also support good causes such as “Design For Change”.

Come visit our website and experience its rich legacy right away!

FAQs on How to Select a Dinnerware Set that Matches Your Home Decor

Q1: How do you coordinate dinnerware?

Coordinating dinnerware involves selecting a cohesive theme or style for your table setting. Consider the occasion, your personal preferences, and the desired ambience. Choose shapes, colours, and patterns that harmonize well. A wide range of stunning collections at India Circus will surely make it easy for you to mix and match dinnerware on the table.

Q2: Can you mix square and round dinnerware?

Yes, you can mix square and round dinnerware to create an interesting and unique table setting. Mixing different shapes can add variety and visual appeal. To get a harmonious look, consider complementing square plates with round bowls or vice versa.

Q3: What are the 3 types of dishes used to set the table?

The three primary types of dishes used to set the table are plates, bowls, and glassware. Plates include dinner, salad, and dessert plates. Bowls encompass soup, salad, and individual serving bowls. Glassware includes drinking glasses or cups. Coordinating these different types of dishes based on size, shape, and design will enhance the overall aesthetics of your table setting.

Also Read | Unique birthday gift ideas to delight your loved ones

Source Link

#interiors #home decore #home design #home decor #interior design #home improvement #home & lifestyle #home ideas #homedecor

1 note · View note

suckitsurveys · 1 year

Text

Do you remember much from high school? I don’t even remember what happened yesterday bro.

Where would you go for the ultimate honeymoon? An all expenses paid resort on a beach somewhere.

Can you access the roof of the building you live in? No.

Do you know anyone who has a strong accent that is hard to understand? Yes, a coworker.

If you had to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would you get? I really want to get something dedicated to my nieces. I was thinking of having them draw hearts and getting those.

What was the last podcast you listened to? Do you listen to it regularly? Office Ladies. I listen pretty regularly. I need to listen to the next episode because they have Billie Eilish as a guest!

Are you more of an optimist or a pessimist, and why do you think this is? I think I am an equal balance of both, depending on the situation.

When was the last time you moved house? In 2017.

Have you ever held a gun? Did you fire it? A bb gun and yes.

Do you like simple questions or deep questions that make you think? Both are good,, depends on the mood I am in.

How long have you been using Bzoink? I don’t use that site.

When was the last time you threw up? Why were you sick? I don’t remember actually.

Are you on a first-name basis with your boss? (or last boss if unemployed) Yes.

What brand is your laptop or computer? The computer I am on right now is a Dell. I have two laptops at home and one is Dell and one is Sony.

Would you ever wear a bright orange shirt? Probably not.

What was the last thing you wrote in a word document? Something for work.

Who do you miss and what do you miss about them? My mom. She’ll be gone 10 years this year. I miss her laughter and her stories. I really fucking wish she was here because there’s no way she’d let my brother in law get away with the fucking shit he does to my sister and my nieces.

What were the best and worst costumes you’ve ever worn? My favorites were Nyan Cat and Princess Carolyn. Worst was probably when I attempted to dress as Hannah Montana lol.

Do you know anybody who is gay and married? Yes.

What did you last take painkillers for? A headache.

Are there any hobbies you want to get back into? I wish I kept up on rollerblading/skating.

Have you ever shared a home with a friend? Nope.

What’s the craziest or weirdest place you’ve ever slept? I don’t know. In a gym at a YMCA?

What did you have for lunch today and who made it? It’s 8 in the morning, but I am going to have pad thai later. It’s a store brand frozen dinner which sounds gross but it’s actually not bad.

Do you believe in anything supernatural like ghosts or ghouls? Ghosties.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Not enough.

Are you allergic to anything? How did you find out? Some UTI medication. I’ve just always been told I was.

What’s your favourite Thai dish? Massaman curry and pad see ew. And good ol’ pad thai.

Do you have any alarms set? What time and what for? I have like 400 set between 4am and 5am because I like to torture myself before work.

What are you going to do when this survey is over? A few more probably.

Have you ever been on a date with someone you met online? How was it? Yes. We’re married now.

What colour is the rug in your living area? Grey.

Do you call it a couch, sofa, lounge or something else entirely? Couch.

Who is your favourite character on Friends? Chandler and Phoebe.

When was the last time you used a pair of headphones and what for? I have some on right now but I haven’t started listening to anything lol. Describe the temperature of the area you’re in right now. Cold and bullshit January shit.

Who was the last very physically attractive person you saw? In person? My husband.

Have you ever had teppanyaki? I don’t think so.

How long does it take you to get ready before you go somewhere? Definitely depends.

Do you find it difficult to get rid of material possessions? I am pretty sentimental.

What sort of games do you like to play? I play a lot of mindless shit on my phone. But I also LOVE board games.

What was the last candy you ate? I had a sea salt and caramel chocolate candy last night.

Have you ever been hit in the face? What’s the story? Not like, maliciously, no. I’ve been hit by sports balls and other shit before.

Do you know anyone who is deaf? I don’t personally, no.

Name one thing on your bucket list. Traveling!

#surveys #at work

1 note · View note

106days · 2 years

Text

Sunday was a relatively early start for our drive to Mt Nebo, the mountain from which Moses supposedly saw the promised land. A church has occupied the site since the second half of the fourth century in honour of Moses’ death, having been rebuilt a few times. At some point in the 20th century someone uncovered mosaics dating to roughly 530AD. I think the Franciscans purchased the site and have done a pretty spectacular job in conserving the remnant mosaics. The view on Sunday was also incredible, it was so clear that we could see Jerusalem in the distance.

Next stop was a workshop that employs disabled and handicapped people to create mosaics. It was cool to see a few of them working and understand the old and new processes. I would’ve loved to have bought something but even a half price, everything was understandably dear. Takes hours upon hours to make the artworks, especially the more detailed and finer pieces.

We took the short drive to Madaba to see... more mosaics! This time in the St George church, which is home to a religious map of the Middle East dating to 560AD. Madaba town itself is small and quaint, wasn’t especially busy as I think it was the first weekday after Eid celebrations... or maybe it’s just like that.

Quick lunch stop by the side of the road again, for more falafel. This time I just got a small wrap (0.35 dinars... likely the best value meal of my life) but made sure to ask for chilli. Ate it outside while Talal, our guide, bought us a whole tray of strawberries for about four Australian dollars.

Our afternoon site visit was to Kerak castle (or Al-Karak), a 12th century fortress originally constructed by crusaders then eventually taken over by a series of dynasties, including the Ayyubid and Mamluk. The castle was huge. Featured a lot of impressive feats of engineering including cisterns and skylights and means of communication, plus a secret tunnel that meant the occupants of the castle couldn’t really be starved out. Mum, as you read this, take solace in the fact that no, I didn’t visit Krak des Chevaliers - that’s in Syria, so I don’t think many westerners will be getting there any time soon.

Final stop for the day was little Petra - another Nabatean area about 10km from the main site of Petra. Saw some tomb carvings and some unbelievably well-preserved mosaics, and walked up through a narrow passageway in the rock to a viewpoint west.

Dinner that evening was at a restaurant nearby our hotel in the town of Wadi Musa, which appears to be effectively sustained by the tourism that Petra brings. Had some kind of roast tomato, eggplant, and potato dish with hummus, mutabal (eggplant dip akin to baba ganoush), and salads. And a lemon and mint drink. I worry about how much my sugar intake has gone up since leaving Australia - the people of both Sri Lanka and Jordan have a large sweet tooth, for truly saccharine sweet things.

On the note of Sri Lanka, things have really taken a turn for the worse in the last 48 hours or so, more dead and buildings set alight. Appears frustrations have just boiled over, understandably so. I just hope the people we met are safe; the fact that they all rely on the tourism economy in one way or another suggests they mightn’t be okay in the long run. I checked the DFAT website for SL tonight and they’ve upgraded the travel advice to ‘reconsider your need to travel,’

Israeli forces also appear to have killed a renowned Palestinian-American journalist on the West Bank last night, which is upsetting. I mention this as I fly to Tel Aviv on Friday night. Not actively worried about unrest for the moment, but there’s a niggle.

#travel #jordan #wadi musa #little petra #mt nebo

1 note · View note

sunlvr · 3 years

Text

going absolutely insane thinking about the way i’m gonna decorate my future kitchen

#you don’t understand there’s so many pretty dish sets and i need to have them all #+ the 74953 plants cascading on the windows and counters #the kitchen is definitely where i’m gonna keep my potted herbs it’s gonna be SO nice #kissing my wife in the kitchen...... goodnight #07

4 notes · View notes

silversatoru · 3 years

Text

i made this instead of doing my stacks of homework ^

step bro!itadori yuuji x f!reader

synopsis: i don’t think i even have to say this but you get stuck in a dryer and your step-brother yuuji fucks the shit out of you

t/w: 18+!!!, aged-up yuuji, stepcest, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, filming without consent, mild impact play, creampie, mild overstimulation, mild dumbification (but also reader is just dumb), mention of masturbation

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: hey!!! i joined this super fun collab hosted by my new gf @suna-reversed (thank u for letting me be a part of it!!) so if you enjoy this i highly recommend checking out the rest of the talented writers in this collab :) the jujutsuhub masterlist is here !! also,, biggest thank u my lovely friend @brandmeyelena for helping me to plan and perfect this fic throughout the entire process <333

you were a good daughter, certainty not the sharpest or the most intelligent, but you were helpful and compliant and you always did your chores. and you truly didn’t mind helping out around the house either; sweeping the floors and doing the dishes was easy enough, but there was one task that plagued you a bit more than the rest — doing the laundry. the buttons were just so confusing, and there were so many of them! and on top of that, your short stature made it nearly impossible to empty the fresh clothing out of your top-loaded dryer.

you were struggling with that exact issue right now, pushing onto your tip-toes as you tried to reach that last pesky sock stuck at the bottom of the dryer. your finger tips brushed over the warm fabric, just an inch short of being able to snatch it into your hand.

you wiggled your hips a little further, your feet lifting off the floor and your weight shifting so you fell deeper into the dryer. you were finally able to grasp the sock, but you were unable to push yourself back out, feet swinging wildly as you tried to squirm your way out of the machine.

“hey, what are you doing?”

your face flushed at the sound of your step-brother’s voice coming from behind you, your senses becoming suddenly aware of how far your dress was riding up your thighs. a pitiful whimper of embarrassment slid past your lips as you realized you couldn’t even pull your dress down — you needed both hands to hold you up and prevent you from falling into the dryer.

“ah! yuuji! ...i got stuck,” you pouted shamefully, thankful that you couldn’t see his face right now.

“again? isn’t this like... the third time?” he asked it like a genuine question, but you still felt stupid for getting stuck in the same predicament multiple times.

“mhm, can you help? please?” you whined at him, still wiggling your hips in a poor attempt to free yourself.

this only made your dress slide higher, the underside of your ass cheeks becoming prominently visible against the edge of the fabric. yuuji couldn’t help himself, gabbing his phone and snapping a few secret pictures of your exposed back-side. he planned to save those for later, maybe jack off to them if he was bored, but then a different idea flooded his head — you were no position to stop him from doing whatever he wanted right now.

he propped his phone up on top of one of the various laundry baskets, starting a video recording without your knowledge. then he waltzed back over, sliding a single finger under the fabric of your dress and tracing his finger around your round ass cheek. the sensation of touch made you flinch, your mouth gaping open as you fumbled over your next word.

“y-yuuji?” you stammered, trying to move away which only caused your ass to jiggle and shake more than it already was.

“shh, i’m helping,” he murmured, stroking his finger all the way down to your thigh.

he moved his other hand over your pretty cunt, the fabric of your panties hugging perfectly against your folds. he brushed two of his fingers up your clothed slit, causing you to yelp and continue to wriggle around.

“step-brother? what are you doing?” you continued to question him, your voice light and laced with confusion.

“i’ll help you get unstuck, but you have to repay me somehow, little sister,” he clicked his tongue at you, an evil grin that you couldn’t see stretching his lips.

he continued to poke and prod at your soft, clothed pussy, his mouth salivating as he imagined the things he could do to you in this position. every brush of his fingers coaxed gasps and whimpers from your lips, your worries and protests falling on deaf ears.

“y-you’re my brother, yuuji! w-we can’t do this!” you continued to argue, but his gentle fingers were starting to feel really good — small streams of fluid flowing out of your cunt and seeping into your panties.

“it seems like you want me to,” he observed, poking his finger at the small wet spot that was forming now, “and mom and dad won’t be home until later. no one will find out”.

you felt his strong hands weave their way underneath the straps of your undergarments, swiftly pulling them down your thighs and letting them dangle from your ankles. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling of your wet cunt being exposed to the cool air, shifting your hips and filling yuuji’s head with more sinful ideas.

you couldn’t see anything (with your head still being stuck in the dryer) but you heard your brother’s own pants fall to the floor, a loud clank of his belt buckle against the tiles confirming your suspicions. everything about this felt so wrong, but at the same time, you’d always been shamefully attracted to yuuji — eyes lingering on his chiseled chest for a little too long when he walked around the house shirtless.

your head was swirling with thoughts like: would it really be that wrong if the two of you indulged in each other while no one was around? it’s not like you were actually blood related or anything.

on the other hand, yuuji had a one-track mind, and he wasn’t having any of the doubts that you were — he had a tendency to listen to his dick instead of his brain. and right now your round, plump ass was staring him in the face and begging to get fucked. how could he not take advantage of this opportunity?

he lifted his hand and gave a firm slap to your right ass check, earning a gasped yelp from you which made his dick twitch and strain. he mumbled under his breath, something along the lines of ‘i’ve always wanted to do that’ but it was kind of hard to hear from the depths of the dryer.

he’d used a reasonable amount of force, a puffy handprint forming on the surface on your skin. he decided that the other cheek should match, delivering another firm strike to the other side and watching you squirm and whimper at the impact.

he grabbed his phone and pulled it over for a few close ups, showing off the swollen skin to the camera. he then placed a finger at the front of your entrance, the puffy, slick walls sucking it in as he delivered a few warm-up strokes with his hand. the camera picked up on all the grotesque squelching noises made by his finger in your cunt, as well as the embarrassed yelps and moans leaving your lips.

now that you had two matching, swollen hand prints, and your pussy had been properly prepped, he decided he was ready for the main course. yuuji returned his phone to its spot on the laundry basket before grabbing a low stool from the corner of the room and setting it in front of the dryer so he could stand on it for easier access. his cock was red and veiny, begging for entrance into your tight cunt as he wrapped one hand around it to position himself.

you’d always imagined your step-brother’s dick to be lengthy, and your assumptions were proven correct when your felt a tight pressure in your core. his girthy size pushed and stretched at your walls, pained mewls leaking from between your teeth as you clawed at the bottom of the dryer.

yuuji let out a groan that was almost animalistic, throwing his head back and placing a firm grip on either side of your hips. the way your pitiful form was positioned on the dryer gave him excellent access, the curve of his dick allowing him to stretch you deep, reaching all the way to the spongy patch of tissue that made you feel so good.

a jumble of grotesque noises filled the room, a chorus your sloppy moans, yuuji’s pleasured grunts, and the steady slap of his hips on your ass. he’d imagined what this would be like more times than he could count — fucking himself into his fleshlight and mumbling your name while he did so. but no matter how many times he’d dreamed of this moment, he never expected your walls to be so tight — so perfectly snug around his cock.

“yuuji!” you repeated his name a few times, head so dazed from the overwhelming bliss that you’d forgotten all about the initial guilt you’d felt.

“see, i knew you’d like this, little sister. your big brother would never steer you wrong, would he?” he knew his words were manipulative, but god, you were much too dumb to understand or grasp the concept of manipulation — you’d just agree with him like you always do.

“no! he would never!” you whined, letting your head dip lower into the dryer so he could fuck you at an even better angle.

your messy cunt squelched and squeezed a small stream of juices down your thigh as he picked up a deeper, faster pace, your moans becoming higher and more unsteady in response. he could feel your sloppy walls fluttering and constricting against him, his fingertips digging deeper into your hips as he let out a few breathy moans.

the tip of his cock slammed into your pleasure spot with every stroke, voiding your brain of any cohesive thoughts you might have had hiding in there. you moaned and whimpered over and over, whining yuuji’s name like a mantra as drool spilled from your lips.

yuuji could almost imagine your perfectly fucked-out face — your eyes rolling into your head and your mouth hanging open lazily. he grunted at the thought, deciding that the next time he fucked you it was gonna be somewhere that he could watch your face and really enjoy the show — because there was definitely going to be a next time.

there was a tight coil forming in your stomach, building up more and more the longer that your step-brother railed himself into you from behind. you hardly even noticed how sore your hips were getting or how numb and tingly your legs were from being bent over the dryer, yuuji’s dick filling you up so well that those things became an afterthought.

after a few more pounds to your oozing cunt that hit deep enough to graze your cervix, you felt a heightened wave of pleasure begin to crash over your body. surges of the most blissful sensation you’d ever felt racked through your systems, your whines becoming borderline screams as yuuji fucked you through your orgasm.

the way your warm, messy walls fluctuated and gripped around his cock pushed him close to his own climax, but he wasn’t quite ready to be done with you yet. he continued to provide heavy, forceful thrusts, abusing your now sensitive cunt and moaning loudly as your juices squelched out around the edges of your entrance. the disgusting sounds of your fluids squeezing out around his cock nearly sent him over the edge again, but he was determined to ride this out for as long as he could.

“it’s too much!” you wailed between heavy breaths, every stroke sending jolts of overstimulation through your clit.

you wiggled and whined, legs clenching together in defense and causing your pussy to wrap even tighter around yuuji’s dick. the added pressure and increased pleasure was something he could no longer surpass, succumbing to his own orgasm just moments later.

“fuck, feels- too- fucking- good- shit,” he grunted a long string of mostly profanity, emptying his hot release into your caverns as you continued to cry out and whimper underneath him.

yuuji had fucked you even stupider than you already were, your head way too dazed for you to even realize he was filling your insides with warm, sticky semen. he milked his orgasm all the way through and then some, his cock aching and twitching by the time he finally pulled it out of your white-stuffed cunt.

he wrapped his toned arms around your waist, finally pulling you out of the dryer and attempting to stand you up. but between the lack of blood flow to your legs from being stuck, and the good fuck yuuji had just given you, your lower extremities were in no shape to hold you up. you sunk right to the floor, your messy pussy spilling everywhere and leaving puddles of fluid and semen.

“thanks for helping me get un-stuck, big brother,” you looked up at him with admiration, blissfully unaware of how he was using your utter stupidity to his advantage.

“of course, you want me to carry you to bed?” he gave you a sympathetic look, squatting down with his back to you.

you hummed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing onto his muscular back. he carried you down the hall and into your room, laying you down and handing you an old towel for you to clean yourself up with. you were a pitiful site, hazy eyes and an ignorant smile resting on your face as yuuji admired your damaged little cunt for a few more moments before returning to the laundry room.

he grabbed his phone and ended the video, thankful that you were much to oblivious to notice that it was recording the entire time. he was definitely going to hold onto the recording for safe keeping and later use — and shit, maybe he’d even upload it to pornhub and make a quick buck too.

5K notes · View notes

husbandohunter · 3 years

Note

Mermaids exist in stardew, yes? So imagine a mermaid farmer for Zhongli, Kaeya and Diluc it could be in Yandere setting or not. I just wanna know their reaction when they found out and how it’ll effect their relationship. Will it brew angst, love, or both

Part of your world [Genshin x Mermaid!Reader]{Stardew Impact series}

Synopsis: You came from the sea and he takes you through a journey of what it was like to live on land despite your differences.

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli

"I threw in Childe because I had an idea for him xD It's fluff month so everything is going to be happy from now on >.>"

=============================

{Diluc}

It was a hot summer day when Diluc first found you lying unconscious ashore. You had just swam far and wide from the ocean world, the climate deemed unideal for your case. With no one else around, he took the initiative to help you out of your situation.

He shortly found out by the slight appearances of scales gracing your legs that you were neither a human or someone coming from the town nearby. As legendary as mermaids are, Diluc wanted nothing to do with you. His beginning plan was to find your relatives and send you out of his house (Additional work isn’t welcomed when he has so much already). However, you latched onto him pretty quickly since he was the one who saved you.

Here stands a human, a creature that you always wanted to interact with, in your perspective he may look a little stern but he must have plenty of knowledge to offer based on all the antiques he owns.

The only problem was that you two had no way to communicate. Different worlds meant different languages. Whenever Diluc told you that you couldn’t stay, all you did was tilt your head and whenever you tried expressing what you wanted to say, well, normally bubbles would come out of your mouth since they were an indication for your words.

He gave up on trying to kick you out and simply allowed you to take residence as long as you stayed out of his workaholic life. You would tend to his farm while he was absent on other matters and feeding animals in the barn (a lot to do but a win-win situation now that you were able to discover what it was like to live on land at the same time). Though you were also a handful, most of the time Diluc had to excuse himself from his desk when you thought the rake was some sort of hair brush and he forbade you from using the bulldozer. Quite honestly you caused him a lot of stress. He spent most of his hours teaching you and before he knew, it was already a habit of his.

The only words you knew were three words. If you wanted to eat you would say ‘fish’. If you were thirsty, you would say ‘water’. If it was anything else, you would say ‘Diluc.’

He allows you to take long baths since he knows how hydrated mermaids must stay at all times. Orders a pool to be built in his front yard (at least this way helps him save his costly electricity bills). Diluc also borrows books from the library museum for you to read, anything that you would find interesting, (mostly they were about alphabets and picture-based stories (it felt like he was raising a child).)

Easily gets worried when you step into town with him, he keeps a watchful eye in case you collapse and extra bottles when you need a drink. Most of the time, he had to keep an eye on you since you had the natural instinct to waltz into whatever interested you, such as dancing in annual festivities (which you dragged him along of course). It was how he grew attached to your presence because you truly knew how to appreciate the world around you when he himself was too busy to do so.

Two worlds merged and he was learning how to live in yours too, how you perceive things. Building sandcastles, collecting seashells, listening to the echoes resounding within them. Activities he thought were unnecessary suddenly gained the meaning he had lost long ago. Diluc grew too fast at maximum speed, trying to get as many things done as he could, until he was pulled back by the emotional waves of your kindness and compassion, onto the shore he failed to live on. How ironic reality can be.

{Childe}

Everyone knew how much Childe loved to fish. He sets out at sea every evening to capture a batch of flounders, hopefully stumbling upon a legendary one.

In a way, he did. Just not what he expected. What he pulled out of the waters seemed to be a human-sized fish sitting upon the other residues caught in between. ‘A mermaid…?’ he thought, still digesting the fact in front of him. (No wonder the net felt so heavy).

At the same time he wanted to take you with and sell you for a good price but knew how mad Tonia would get when she found out. So he lets you go free. The thing is, you swam behind his boat and followed him back to land. This was how your relationship with Childe started, to this day he continues to jest upon that memory.

Tonia took most of the responsibility to coach you about human life. One of them was table etiquette, before you ate with only your hands which caused a mess. Childe would laugh hysterically at it until Tonia reminded him, “This is also what happens when you use chopsticks, big brother.”

Teucer invites you to basically anything since you have so much patience. Childe shortly realizes that he was soon going to be replaced as the eldest caretaker and you couldn’t even talk at that time. So it was only fair that he included himself in the circle while interacting with your way of communicating: sign language (Surprisingly, he was naturally good at it. Though his movements are rather exaggerated and...ungraceful).

You were nice enough to accompany him to his fishing tasks and soon enough became your daily activities. Childe takes the lead as you follow him from the side, sometimes he lets go of the steering wheel and allows you to push the boat instead (he kept a note to himself that in your mermaid mode, your strength multiplied by a large number). Other times he felt a little risky and decided to jump in the ocean with you for a swimming session. It worried you immensely but your anxiety subsided when you saw how much fun he was having and for the rest of the time, you both explored what the ocean had to offer.

Childe used to be a fish-cook enthusiast. Not anymore (since that day you cried when glancing at the flounder dish he placed on the table). He had to stick to seaweed or any other plant-based meals with a little bit of meat but too much would cause your stomach to churn. Since his siblings complained at the sudden change, he had to make a separate meal plan for them. With a mermaid in the house was certainly high-maintenance indeed.

Cuddling with you in front of the cracking fire blazing under the chimney was one of the calmest moments indulged himself in. He often chooses the life where the waves crash constantly, anticipating a thrilling storm that comes ahead. But you were just a lull at the sea, the mediator he needed in times where his siblings needed a mother-figure. Sometimes he fears that you would leave him and return to where your true family lives but he was grateful that you chose him above all else. He was grateful that by chance, he captured you at sea. One thing he loved about life was the unpredictability the future brings, including the blessings. Even if you were a creature from far away, in your presence he felt like he was truly at home.

{Kaeya}

When the tides rose above his head, Kaeya was sure that he was done for. The surfboard he recently stood upon slips off beneath his feet and he falls into the ocean’s merciless waves. No oxygen, no time to catch his breath amidst the impact, his eyes were slowly closing and the last thing he saw was the sun’s light beyond the heavy surface, along with the murky visual of someone swimming in front of it.

Although he almost drowned, the idea of being saved by a pretty mermaid makes up for the fact (He has a natural tendency to flirt at anything eye-catching even if you were an outlandish being). You on the other hand was confused by his advances as you couldn’t understand a word he was saying, hence you swam away.

Those beginning days when you chose to explore the land, Kaeya remembers how much trouble you had with walking using your new legs. He had to hold both your hands while leading you forward, he found it rather cute when you tighten your grip the moment you felt that he was going to let go (he was only bluffing of course but you still hissed at him). Still, Kaeya ensures that you don’t fall to the ground, he catches you in time when you collapse while laughing, “You’re doing great sweetheart.”

In return you teach him how to read the ocean’s movements so that he won’t drown again. Kaeya spends more time around the beach since he knows that the water bodies are where you were most comfortable with. He tells you that you always smell like saltwater whenever he buries his face in your hair, perhaps that was how he grew attached to the ocean as well.

In summer seasons there were several days where you had to sleep in his bathtub because the air was so dry. As a mermaid, he had to tolerate many of your unique quirks, in this case he had to deal with showering in cold water since you took up all the electricity. Another case was your wine tolerance, no one could challenge you to a drinking contest when your body could sustain large amounts of liquids. Kaeya sometimes jokes if you could turn him into a merman like those in fairytale books so he can have the same experience. You take it as a joke while he was also being half-serious.

When you have to take a temporary trip home, Kaeya visits the dock every evening and waits for you to come back, trying to see any signs of your colourful tail. He glances at the ocean he grew to love, knowing where he stood is as far as he could go and anywhere beyond the boundary was out of his reach. So many people left him in his life and even though he knew you wouldn’t do the same, he still worries. Uncertain if you would abandon him too.

Your existence became the center of his life the moment you chose to walk upon land with him. Side by side, through small hurdles the seashore and hurdles as big as the wave that almost killed him the day he met you, Kaeya keeps them all as if they were the most precious treasure a pirate could find. It didn’t matter if you were different from everyone else because despite your tail, all he could see was you.

{Zhongli}

While Zhongli strolls along the sandy beach, he follows the alluring sound of your singing voice. You sat upon the rock while humming along what seems to be an old folk tune, similar to what Guizhong once sang. The man folds his arms and closes his eyes. Many years have passed since he last heard something like this, “Your voice, it’s very lovely.”

He was a geologist who worked by the museum, collecting different types of rocks and seashells that would wash up shore. You became very familiar with his daily routine that before he pays a visit to the beach again, a pile of interesting rocks would be waiting for him by the docks. It was a gift. And Zhongli would bring snacks like seaweed soup as an accommodation for your kindness.

Unlike Kaeya, when you couldn’t walk because your legs were too weak to be used, Zhongli helps you with every step along the way even if the trip was a slow one. He even offered to have you carried when he saw you were having too much trouble but you insisted on trying. The whole trip that usually took ten minutes was a three hour walk.

Even though he knew many things, your language was not one of them. However he was willing to learn. Both of you have study sessions regarding each other’s culture. For you it’s the way humans drink with cups because of Zhongli being a tea fanatic himself, he even showed you how to hold a tea cup properly. You taught him how to swim since he had been so occupied on land that swimming never crossed his mind. Thankfully he was naturally good at it due to his tall stature (albeit a little scared when diving into an environment unknown and different to him).

Zhongli loves the way you sing and he would ask every time he wanted to read a book. Either under the tree on a warm spring day or on the couch when it was storming outside. Although he intended to get some reading done, Zhongli can’t help but fall asleep. You didn’t want to wake him up (and you could carry him if you wanted to thanks to your mega-mermaid strength) so by morning, you’d find yourselves in the same spot and your lap feeling numb.

Earth and sea were separated for a reason so that the creatures may stay upon the place where they belong. That wasn’t enough to separate you from him though. Zhongli would travel to the sea to see you and you mustered the courage to walk upon the hard surface of land. The two were only parts of the world but together they are part of the world, connected to form a whole new life.

400 notes · View notes

talesofstyles · 3 years

Text

Reconcile

happy christmas eve, you lot! i’ve got a little present for you. enjoy this 10,5k of nearly divorced harry trying to win his wife and bitter nine year old daughter back. oh and i threw in a little baby goat in the mix too since it’s set in the peak district and i just couldn’t resist 🥳

“Penny for your thoughts.”

He turned to look at her, who was giggling as she leaned closer to him. She was most definitely not a giggler sober, but he found out that a copious amount of alcohol could turn her into one. He felt slightly guilty knowing that she was going to be hungover as hell in the morning, but she was having a great time.

And so was he.

“I was just thinking about how great you are, how lucky I am to be sitting next to you right now and that you need to drink more water because otherwise, you’d be miserable tomorrow,” he says with a smile as he twisted the cap and handed her the bottle of water.

That goofy smile of hers turned into a gooey smile of affection. “That’s so sweet,” she murmured, taking a gulp of water and handed the bottle back to him so he could take some too. She then tilted her head, giving him a doe-eyed look and asked, “what else do you like about me?”

“Let’s see,” he put a finger to his chin and tapped. “Well, I love how kind and inclusive you are, how you always care about people and that you always see the good in everyone.”

Her smile grew sappier.

“Oh,” he gave her a sly grin. “I also love that thing you do with your tongue on the underside of my cock.”

She burst out laughing. But then she leaned even closer to him and whispered huskily in his ear, “I’ll do that very thing when we get back to the hotel.”

His eyes widened and he wanted nothing more than just to drag her back to their hotel suite and take up on her offer. But he’d promised her that he’d show her around Vegas since she’d never been before, and he wanted to keep that promise.

“Wanna know what I like about you?” She turned to him, still with a gooey smile on her face.

“Do I ever,” he smirked.

“I like that you’re hands down the kindest human I’ve ever met,” she began. “You’re genuine, and grounded. Funny too. I truly hit the jackpot with you. I’m the luckiest girl on earth.”

“Oh,” she added as an afterthought. “And you’re really good with your tongue.”

He wanted to laugh, because she always made him laugh. But he was still stuck on the fact that she thought she was lucky to be with him. He felt exactly the same way about her, like this was always meant to be.

“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted honestly. “I know it’s only been six weeks, but I really can’t imagine never having met you.”

“Me too,” her eyes were bright, shining with excitement. “It’s weird, right? Because I swear I’ve never felt such a deep connection with someone this quick.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” He murmured. “That there’s a perfect person for everyone out there?”

She tilted her head. “Do you think that’s us?”

There was no hesitation in his answer. “I do think that might be us.”

“I think so too,” she said with a tender smile.

This was real.

He was overwhelmed with the understanding that she was his, and he never wanted to let her go.

So he suggested what any sane, semi-drunk man would at that moment. “We’re in Vegas. We should get married.”

***

Harry

Pulling into the drive of what used to be our holiday cottage, but is now where my wife and children live full-time without me, feels strange to me. There’s that moment of what feels like a homecoming—that sense of belonging somewhere where I feel safe, and I know my happiness is inside.

But now, for the first time in ten years, there’s a sense of detachment that I know I’ve got to put in place. It is why I need to take a moment or two in the car before I walk inside to sort myself out and put on a shield. A shield which lets me walk inside, and be okay with the fact that I don’t live there anymore even just for the holidays.

This charming little cottage, which can’t exactly be called little since it is quite spacious and has three bedrooms, has always been more of a second home rather than a holiday home for us. We used to come here often, sometimes even only for the weekends. I’ve always loved this place. Now, looking back, I realised that many of the happiest times during our marriage were spent in this home.

It was where we spent the first few weeks soaking in newlywed bliss after that whirlwind of a trip to Las Vegas when we decided out of nowhere to tie the knot. Then there were the sleepless nights with a wailing newborn, because even though both of our babies were born in London, we always whisked them off here to Bakewell shortly after so we were close enough that both sets of their grandparents could dote on them during the first few weeks of their lives.

After I exit the car, I walk up to the front door and ring the doorbell. I don’t feel comfortable walking in as I respect that this is YN’s sanctuary now. The wait isn’t long, because in just a few seconds, the door is opened and there’s my wife, looking like a breath of fresh air.

It had been eight long months since the last time I saw her. Last time was the night when she asked me to leave our marital home, and I fled to LA first thing the next morning. I talked daily with the kids on the phone, but I didn’t really recall ever getting the chance to talk to her aside from the quick polite greetings before she handed her phone to the kids.

“Hey,” she says, her expression a bit guarded. I’ve missed her so much that it takes everything in me to keep myself from pulling her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. “Come in.”

“You alright?” I ask her as I follow her into the house. This may sound like I’m just making a small talk, but I’m not. I’m genuinely curious and I want to know how she’s doing.

But she doesn’t even respond to my question. All I get is a head-tilt motioning towards the kitchen. “They’re in the kitchen.”

My gaze immediately lands on the accent table that holds a lot of photos and a key bowl. I silently let out a sigh of relief seeing YN hasn’t removed all of the family photos with me in it. It’s a good sign, but I don’t have much hope behind that. Maybe that’s just her trying to keep everything as normal as possible at home for the kids.

My wife and I never had a big fight when we separated. It had been somewhat rational, but still emotional, discussion. She wasn’t angry, she was just done. And I didn’t fight for her. Instead, yours truly here walked away the next morning and didn’t look back.

I’ve done a lot of dumb things in my life. But nothing ever compares to that. That was pretty fucking stupid on my part, and I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

I’ve accepted that maybe this is my punishment for being a shit husband to a wonderful woman who doesn’t deserve to be treated like a second best. She did the right thing by kicking me to the curb, and I’d never resent her for it. If I could turn back time and change everything, I would in a heartbeat. I’d try harder to be a better husband, a better father, put my family first. But I can’t. Now all I can do is just try not to be a dickhead and make things harder for her than it already is. It’s too late for me to try to be a better husband, but it isn’t for me to try to be the best father that my children deserve.

I follow my wife through the living room and into the kitchen, and I’d be dead not to check out her arse in those leggings. It’s something I quickly avert my eyes from, though, as I realise both of my children are sitting at the kitchen island, eating scones with their tea.

George, my six-year-old, is the first to turn his head and hop off from the island stool to jump into my arms. “Daddeeeeee!”

“My Booger Butt,” I greet my little lad with a smile as I squat down to be on his level before scooping him up into my arms. Booger Butt is one of the countless nicknames I have for him, and one that never fails to make him double over in laughter whenever he hears it. He’s also Mr Tadpole Climbing a Beanpole sometimes, and he used to be Sir Screams-a-Lot when he was a baby. He thinks they’re hilarious, and he’d always respond by calling me Baddy Daddy.

“I‘ve missed you so much, Baddy Daddy,” he says sweetly as he nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck and I swear if I don’t pull myself together right this second, I’m going to cry.

“I’ve missed you more, mate,” I say as I ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

My daughter doesn’t seem fazed by the father and son reunion behind her and continues munching on her scone without even giving me a glance. With my left arm full of my son, I walk up to her and ruffle her hair just like I did with her little brother. “Hey Silly Putty Pudding Pie,” I greet her with one of her nicknames, hoping to get her to laugh. But she ignores me, taking a sip of her brew instead.

I don’t want to give up, so I lean to the side and bend to put my face close to hers. I try again, “hello to you too, poppet.”

“Whatever,” she mumbles around a mouthful of scone.

“Minnie,” YN growls, her tone filled with warning.

This is why I respect YN so much. I hurt her badly, broke her heart, and it would’ve been so easy for her to use Minnie as a pawn and turn my child against me. But every time, even on the phone, whenever she is present, she never let Minnie be disrespectful to me in any way.

My gaze moves to my wife—yes I’m still going to refer to her as my wife since she still is, albeit only on paper—and she gives me an apologetic look. I give a slight shake of my head, telling her silently to let it go.

She takes the last bite of her scone and puts the dish in the sink, before walking to the staircase without giving me a second glance. I can see YN trying to hold her tongue from further rebuking our daughter, and I give her a small smile, my silent way of telling her ‘it’s okay.’

“Sorry about that,” she mutters, referring to Minnie’s attitude. She grabs a mug from the cupboard, then holds it up in silent invitation. I nod, and she turns to the pot. “I can’t keep up with her mood shifts anymore.”

“It’s alright,” I tell her, willing to take my share of the blame. “I’m sure the shift has everything to do with me.”

“Not true,” she replies as she pours the coffee into our mugs, adding a splash of milk to hers but keeping mine just like that because she knows I take my coffee black. “She’s been like that with me as well and I’m not sure why. She’s only nine but she acts as if she’s thirteen already.”

I can’t help but laugh and turn to my little lad. “Can you be six forever?”

“No,” he says immediately without even taking a second to think.

“Just no?”

“No,” he gives me a toothy grin. “I want a lego city set but mummy said it’s for eight-year-olds. So I cannot wait to be eight.”

I set him on the counter and give him a conspiratorial smirk before I whisper to him. It’s a little too loud to be considered a whisper, but I want my wife to hear it. “Tell you what, we’ll get one of those sets tomorrow on our day out.”

His eyes light up instantly and my wife rolls her eyes jokingly, “I hear that.” Jokingly, because I know for sure she doesn’t mind me spoiling our children. She does it too.

“Where are you taking them tomorrow?”

“To your mum’s pudding shop for breakfast, then probably fishing, and the toys shop now apparently,” I tell her our itinerary. I have the kids for the whole day tomorrow since it’s Saturday. It’s bittersweet because I’ve missed my children and I can’t wait to spend time with them, but I’m also sad because what I wouldn’t give to turn tomorrow into a family day out instead. I know she would most likely decline, but I can’t help offer her, “would you like to come with us?”

She gives me a subtle shake of her head. “No thanks. Enjoy it, it’s your time with them.”

***

I’m renting a room above The Old Nags Head during my stay here. I plan to stay for a week before I have to go back to London, and even though the thought of having to leave my children again is killing me, I’m trying to cheer myself up by reminding myself that it’ll be Christmas soon enough and I’ll get to visit again.

But then I’ll have to leave again.

And visit again, but knowing in just a week or two, I would have to say goodbye to them again.

Fuck, this is killing me. I’m a family man through and through, and not being with them physically hurts. I shouldn’t be in this room sulking alone. I should be there in that home with my wife and children, probably helping Minnie and George with their homework or making dinner for all of us.

I was prepared to sulk some more, but then I heard a knock on the door. I was not expecting company so I’ve got no idea who it is, and I’m quite surprised when I see Jamie, YN’s brother as I open the door.

We were quite close, but now that I broke his little sister’s heart, I can’t tell if this is a pleasant visit or if he’s just here to knock me square on my arse.

“Got time for tea downstairs?” He asks

Honestly, I haven’t got any appetite. But I could use a few pints so I nod and lock the door behind me, following him downstairs to the pub.

The Old Nags Head is the oldest and most famous pub in Bakewell. The pub itself is a former smithy dating back to the 16th century, and certainly looks the part; thick stone walls, low ceilings, welcoming log fires and dark timber beams. The pub remains at the centre of the community, as it has been for hundreds of years. It offers the best classic pub grubs, and even has its own ale called the Nags 1577.

It’s the perfect place to drown my sorrows.

Except, the current owner of that very pub happens to be none other than my wife’s granddad whom everyone here calls Pop. Out of all members of her family, she is the closest to Pop, so I know for sure that I’m the last person he wants to see.

We sit at the bar table facing the window, which is good because Pop is behind the main bar, and this way I don’t have to actually talk to him.

“Ya want owt?” Jamie asks as he does a quick perusal of the menu. I’m not even sure why he bothers, because even I know what he’s going to order. It’s Pop’s signature steak and ale pie. Ten years of being his brother in law, not once I ever saw him order something else.

“Just a pint,” I tell him.

It doesn’t take long after Jamie orders his food and our drinks before two pints are placed before us, and we each take a savouring sip.

And then Jamie point-blank asks me, “so what did you do?”

I really can’t tell anything from his expression, because he keeps his face blank. But I give him a bark of mirthless laughter. “It’s what I didn’t do, mate. She didn’t say anything?”

“Not a word,” he shakes his head, “what didn’t you do?”

“I stopped paying attention to my wife. Got caught up in my career. The travelling for tours she understood, but it was when I was home and hanging out more with my bandmates than with my family that she couldn’t forgive. And what little time I had left, I gave to Minnie and George. I think I just stupidly assumed she would always be there for me, no matter what.”

“Was there any infidelity?” He asks.

“God, no,” I shake my head hard. “You know I’d never do that to your sister. I love her, and she’s more than enough for me.”

Obviously, I’m not going to tell him this, but ironically, our sex life didn’t diminish. We were combustible in bed, and my mistake was in thinking that was enough for her.

I look at the pudding shop right across the street as I take another sip, and I nearly choke on my beer when I see a familiar face walking out of the shop.

“What in the ever-loving fuck?” I growl.

That’s my wife, walking out of her mum’s pudding shop. She is not alone. There’s a guy with his hand pressed to her lower back while her head is tipped back, laughing at something he’s saying. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach when the bastard’s palm drops from my wife’s back to take her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She smiles, all doe-eyed, as they walk to God knows where.

“What?” Jamie looks at me confused for a second, but then he follows my gaze and he finally sees what’s causing me distress. “Oh, that.”

“You knew about that?”

He nods. “She’s been seeing him for about three weeks now.”

“Fuck,” I mutter and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“She didn’t tell you?” Jamie asks and I shake my head.

“Three weeks you said?”

Jamie nods again. “He makes her happy.”

“I’m her husband,” I can’t help but say bitterly. “I should be the one making her happy.”

“Look, I’m sorry mate,” he offers, I know he’s trying his best to keep his tone neutral. “Maybe you need to get back in the dating game too. It’ll distract you.”

“I don’t want to fucking date anyone else,” I growl.

“I know it’s hard to get back in the saddle,” he adds sympathetically.

“I don’t want to get out of my current saddle,” I grumble. “I want to keep my current saddle with my wife in it.”

Jamie blinks in surprise, hell I’m even surprised at what I’ve just said out loud because I’ve never admitted this since we split. When YN asked me to leave, I assumed right away that my marriage was over. I didn’t want it to, but I thought there was nothing I could do.

But now, seeing her laughing at another man’s joke and his hand holding hers, I just know that I can’t let her go without a fight.

“Have you told her this?” He asks curiously.

I shake my head again. “We haven’t got the chance to have a civil conversation these days.”

“Then I suggest you stop being such a bloody whinge bucket and have a civil conversation with your wife.”

My shoulders immediately sag in defeat. “I know. I need to sit down with her and tell her how I feel.”

“Which is?” He presses.

“That I want her back,” I mutter.

“You’ve got to have a better plan than that,” he points out. “I mean… I’m not a marriage therapist, but I’m pretty sure that you’ve got to be prepared to fix the shit first.”

I can’t help but tilt my head towards the pudding shop where my wife had just walked out the door. “She’s moved on. You said it yourself that he makes her happy. Tell me how to compete with that.”

“Make her happier,” he says simply. I can only let out a heavy sigh, but I know that's solid advice. “Listen, if you really want to save your marriage, you need to make it work. Romance her again. Lots of flowers, nice romantic dinners out. Compliments, chocolates. All that sort of thing.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “But I do know that you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t do anything about it.”

***

My emotions are a mixed bag this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to spend the whole day with my kids, but the fact that I have just learnt last night that my wife is currently seeing another man doesn’t sit right with me.

I know Jamie was right. If I want to save my marriage, I need to get my head out of my arse and do something to win my wife back. Sure, I don’t even know where to start since she doesn’t give me the time of day. But I do know that starting today, I’m a man on a mission. It’s Operation Conquer YN: day 1.

It’s currently 8:40am, which means I’m twenty minutes early. I hope the kids won’t be ready yet, so I’ll get a chance to talk for a little bit to my wife.

When I ring the doorbell, I can hear George pounding down the stairs, yelling, “I got it!”

The door flies open and he jumps into my arms right away. My little lad truly misses me, and it really does warm my heart. Now, I love my children equally, but before I got here yesterday, I thought Minnie would be the one to jump all over me since she’s a daddy’s girl through and through, while George has always been a mummy’s boy since the day he was born.

But again, I should’ve known. Since YN and I split, Minnie sort of puts herself in her mum’s corner. Every time I actually got the chance to talk to her on the phone when I was still in LA, it was always extremely short before she quickly handed her mum’s phone to her little brother. I try not to take her behaviour to heart, because I guess it’s what nine-year-olds do when they don’t quite understand why their parents aren’t together. They just need someone to blame, and my daughter is way more mature than her age. She’s bloody smart too, which she definitely takes after her mum, and I know that she knows it’s my fault that her mum and I separated.

Now that I think of it, it’s not just my wife that I desperately need to win back. But also my daughter.

“Daddy!” George chirps. He’s got a milk moustache and the sight never fails to get me to chuckle. “You’re early.”

“I know,” I reply with a tender smile. “I just can’t wait to spend the day with you lot.”

“I’m going to get ready!” He announces excitedly as he squirms in my arms wanting to be put down, and he runs up the stairs before I can even reply.

I look around, and my gaze lands on the sofa, a hazel leather sofa that YN picked out. It’s so comfy and I could nap there forever.

Then there’s the coffee table, where YN, Minnie, George and I sat around and played board games. Catan is our family’s favourite, followed closely by Monopoly.

The corner where we always put the Christmas tree, right next to the fireplace. And every year it didn’t matter how hard I tried, I could never get the bloody thing to stay straight.

I miss this little cottage. Sure, the house in South Kensington is our marital house, but this cosy little cottage in the middle of nowhere feels more like home to me. And now I truly get why YN was so adamant to move here permanently after we separated, didn't matter how hard I tried to persuade her to stay in London.

“You’re early,” my wife blinks in surprise, but quickly masks it. “Minnie darling, go and get ready.”

“Do I really have to go?” My nine-year-old whines and I feel a pang. She really doesn’t want to spend time with me.

“Minnie, that’s not nice,” YN reprimands her before I can stop her.

“I’ve missed you, poppet,” I say, wanting to look at her in the eyes but she refuses to meet my gaze. Which hurts, but it’s fine. I know it’ll take some time for her to warm up to me. “I want to spend the day with you and your brother. I promise I’ll try to make it fun for you both.”

“Fine,” she replies, before marching up the stairs to her room. There’s still a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but at least I didn’t get a heavy sigh. I know it’s a small win but honestly, it’s better than none.

“Coffee’s in the pot,” she tells me politely from where she’s sitting at the island. She has her laptop open before her, and I can see her writing an email. I bet she’s working today, even if it’s Saturday, because my wife is such a hard-worker. She works remotely for a consulting firm and I’m beyond proud of her.

I nod and pour the coffee, and I let the silence carry on for a bit before saying, “saw you getting cosy with your new boyfriend last night.”

She instantly looks up from her laptop, giving me a death glare. Her tone is defensive when she says, “that’s none of your business.”

“You could’ve at least told me that you were seeing someone,” I tell her, making elaborate gestures with my coffee mug.

“Why would I do that?” She retorts defensively. “Last time I checked, you didn’t give a shit about me when we were married. Why on earth would I assume you do now?”

Hearing that, it feels like Chuck Norris himself just kicked me in the nuts. I can only mutter, “we’re still married.”

“Not for long,” she replies faintly.

“Don’t say that,” I say, my breath a little jagged. “We can still fix this, darling. I know we can.”

“Are you mad?” She snaps, but then she takes a deep breath, and her tone is a lot calmer when she adds, “Harry, it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. It’s never too late to get our marriage back on track,” I plead desperately. “Would you at least give me a shot?”

“What do you mean?” She frowns.

“You can continue to see Mr Wife-stealer-”

“He’s not a wife-stealer,” she snaps, cutting me off. “He’s got a name.”

“Well, he’s stealing my wife,” I grumble like a stroppy child.

“You’re being such a child,” she retorts. “His name is Luke, he’s a decent guy, and he makes me happy.”

“I’m not afraid to go head to head with him,” I say defiantly.

“Fuck’s sake, Harry, we’re not on a bloody Love Island,” she says in exasperation. “Two children are involved here, this isn’t a game.”

“I know it isn’t,” I reply with a sigh. “Just please give me another shot, darling. Let me remind you how great we were together.”

“You mean the sex?” She demands, one side of her upper lip curls in a sneer.

I bend my head and murmur, “we were dynamite in the sack, weren’t we?”

I see the flash in her eyes as she remembers, and it makes me want to beat my chest in victory. But the euphoric feeling is short-lived when she says, “a relationship is so much more than just sex. If you don’t understand it then-”

“I do, fuck, I do know that,” I cut her off in a strangled, desperate voice. “At least let me try, darling. Fuck if I’m letting you go without a fight.”

We lapse into silence as she gives me a sceptical look, and I know in this moment that my biggest challenge is to regain her trust, as well as accepting the fact that she has someone else fighting for her attention.

I know this will be tough, because I let her down over and over again. And worse, I let my children down too, because I was never quite able to make my family my highest priority. It was all my fault, I knew it then, still do now. That’s why when she asked me to leave, I couldn’t even argue. I was a shit husband and father, and I deserved that.

Trying to win Minnie is probably going to be the easiest because beneath this ‘tweenage’ attitude going on, I know she is a sweet girl who loves her daddy. I need to devote more attention to her, maybe take her on some daddy-daughter dates. I know it’ll work because I’ve never given her enough on a consistent basis.

YN is going to be the most difficult, because I really broke her heart. I’ve been married to her for ten years, so I can say with confidence that I know for sure she would never fall for things like flowers or gifts. I have to show her that I genuinely want to fix our marriage, and that my interest in her is real. It’ll be like starting all over again.

And on top of that, she’s seeing someone else and she said it herself that he does make her happy. I know she’s not lying about it, as Jamie also told me the same thing last night and I saw with my own eyes how she laughed with him last night. Seeing that killed me, because I don’t have the ability to make her laugh like that anymore, but I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that was happy for her.

She may have sneered when I insinuated I’d be glad to remind her of the good times, but I saw it in her eyes. There was still a slight burn, and that might just have to be my angle.

But then I remember our last time together. It was only two days before she asked me to leave and I remember coming home mid-morning after a meeting with my manager and publicist to find her lying in our bed, clad in sexy lingerie. I had my mouth on every inch of her, a good deal of time between her legs, and after she reciprocated by taking me into her mouth.

The kids were in school, and apparently, she took a sick day because I had told her the night before that I only had one meeting in the morning that day. After, she cuddled in close, and we talked for a while. She seemed happy, but then there was a hint of hesitation in her voice when she suggested, “fancy just spending all day in bed until school pick-ups?”

I mean, what man in his right mind would say no to that? The kids were gone for at least another five hours, I had a gorgeous wife naked and wanting more of what we just did…

Yet, I’d said no. “Sorry, doll. I’m meeting the lads at the studio in about an hour.”

I didn’t see it then, but I do now and it’s clear as day. The look on her face had been blank, and there wasn’t even disappointment like she would usually show me. She hadn’t tried to get me to change my mind. There hadn’t been a guilt-laden frown to give me pause.

I realise now what it was.

It was the moment my wife finally gave up on me.

My chest constricts as it finally dawns on me the pain she must have been feeling. I’m not just talking about that day. That had been our life for several years.

No wonder she asked me to leave.

No wonder she’s moving on with Mr Wife-stealer.

No wonder that, at this moment, I realise I’ve got tons of work to do because sex isn’t going to be the answer in winning my wife back.

***

“Will the baby just eat when you give it the bottle?” Minnie asks her uncle Jamie as the four of us gaze at the baby goat in front of us. For the first time since yesterday, I actually see the slight curve up of lips that form a fond smile. Seeing that smile on my daughter’s face, I’m glad we didn’t go fishing and end up going to the barn instead. We were actually already on our way, but Jamie texted me that the mother goat had given birth this morning, and he wanted me to tell Minnie and George. The goats are a new addition to the farm, so they have been so excited to see baby goats. I knew from the look in their eyes that they would have a much better time seeing baby goats rather than fishing.

It turns out that there’s only one baby goat, because the other one sadly didn’t make it. And the dam isn’t producing milk, so the kid needs to be bottle-fed until the mother is producing again. I can’t help but smile fondly at the baby goat too because it’s adorable. It’s a soft little white goat with a pink nose and ears. The dam is a Pygmy but since it has blue eyes, Jamie thinks she must have Nigerian Dwarf genes somewhere in her.

“It’s a female… a doeling,” Jamie tells her. “And she will if she’s hungry. You want to try to feed her? Look, she’s hungry again.”

We watch for a moment as the baby goat walks on wobbly legs, bleating in hunger. Jamie mixes the powdered formula and makes a bottle for her, then he hands the bottle to Minnie.

But Minnie shakes her head. “Maybe next time. I want to see you do it first.”

“Alright then,” Jamie nods, then turns towards my little lad. “How about you, mate? Wanna feed her?”

“No thank you,” says George as he shakes his head, and then he giggles, “she smells funny.”

“Can I do it?” I ask and Jamie nods as he hands me the bottle.

I sit down against the wall with my children sitting on either side of me. And as if the goat can sense that I hold the key to filling her empty belly, the doeling starts to prance in excitement and falls over a few times due to what I assume is clumsiness. I love that she can walk normally but still choose chaos—honestly, she could’ve been my third child. There’s no stopping the surge of fondness that swells within me as I watch her little antics.

“Come here little crumpet,” I coo at the goat.

The little goat scrambles right onto my lap, bleating hungrily. I wrap my arm around her and tip the bottle. She latches on instantly, and Minnie and George are aww-ing and ooh-ing over the way the baby goat’s little tail swishes back and forth so fast in ecstatic happiness as she drinks her milk.

“You’re a hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Minnie murmurs and the little tail swishes faster as she pushes at the bottle to suck the milk down faster. “What’s her name, uncle Jamie?”

“I haven’t named her yet,” Jamie says. “What do you lot think we should call her?”

“Blue,” George suggests instantly, without looking away from the baby goat on my lap.

“Ooh, I like it,” Minnie adds. “Like her eyes.”

“Blue it is, then,” Jamie grins. “Now, even though the dam is still not producing milk, we still need to train her to at least try to nurse, so she’ll do it right away when the dam is finally producing milk. Let’s see if we can get her to try to eat from the dam.”

He plucks the baby from my arms, and a series of yearning bleats come from the kid as he carries her to her mother. He places her near the dam’s udders and gives the baby a gentle push.

Much to our surprise, Blue spins away from Jamie and her mother and runs back to me. Although in all fairness, I am holding the bottle she was just drinking from. Jamie attempts three more times to get the baby to try to nurse from her mother, but she’s having none of it.

Finally, he takes the bottle from me and walks across to the opposite wall. He sits down, holds the bottle out, and calls to the doeling. “Come here, baby. Come eat.”

Blue’s tail gives a few nervous twitches, but she doesn’t move towards Jamie. In fact, she takes a few hesitant steps backwards until she bumps into my legs. I’m amazed as I watch her stare hungrily at the bottle, bleating hungrily, but refusing to go to Jamie.

“Daddy, she thinks you’re her mummy,” says George and both my children burst in laughter.

“What?” I say in astonishment.

“I don’t think that doeling is going to feed from anyone but you,” Jamie adds with a chuckle as he stands up. He walks over and hands me the bottle. Blue jumps directly into my lap.

On autopilot, I offer the goat the nipple but look up to Jamie in panic. “What should we do?”

“Dunno, I’ll just try and do it when she’s hungry again in a few hours,” he shrugs. “But if she still doesn’t wanna eat, I’ll bring her to you.”

Any last vestiges of humour, happiness and downright giddiness over the cuteness of a baby goat fades as I realise I might or might not have just added another task to my list. Heavens help me.

***

“Let’s have a daddy and daughter date tomorrow.”

It’s a solid suggestion, and I really hope she’d say yes. Her little brother has his classmate’s birthday party to go to, so I know it’d be perfect for a little one-on-one time.

We’re on our way back home after spending a whole day together. It was great, and even though I didn’t have happy-go-lucky Minnie, George had a great time, and it was enough for me. And at least she didn’t ask to go home early, so I’d call that a win.

“No, thanks,” she replies. There’s still not a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but it doesn’t sound technically warm either.

I glance over through the rear-view mirror as she stares out the window with her arms folded. Her brother is sleeping next to her, and I figured this might be a good time to talk since she’s trapped in the car with me.

Everyone always says that Minnie is a mini-me, while George is a carbon-copy of his mum. Minnie has my nose, eyebrows, chin, even my smile; which is slightly lopsided and has a dimple on one side. I know I’m biased, but she truly is the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.

Where Minnie shines, though, is her personality, which is a combination of her mum and me. She has her mum’s sunny disposition—aside from the days where she’s got a bag on—and always sees the good in everyone. She’s our little ray of sunshine, tender and caring and always trying to make others feel good.

From me, she gets her stubbornness, which even though I know is a good trait to have when she’s older, it made things so much harder when she was a toddler. She also has my terrible sense of humour, but the thing I’m most proud of is her work ethic. I can’t take full credit for that though, because her mother is a hard worker as well.

Ever since she started distancing herself from me, I know which subjects are safe, and which are not. School always falls in the safe category, because she enjoys it and excels. So I figure now that’s where I should start. “How’s school going?”

“Alright,” she replies, still looking out the window.

Now, this really doesn’t sound at all like my daughter.

“Come on, Min,” I say desperately. “Tell daddy what’s been eating you. I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she says absently.

“Do you want to go and get some ice cream with me tomorrow?” That was our thing at least once every two weeks and she loved it.

“No, thank you.”

“Ice skating?”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh I know,” I say excitedly. “I’ve got a show in London in a couple of weeks, Jingle Ball. Do you want to come with me?”

Minnie has always been my biggest fan, clapping the hardest and yelling the loudest for her daddy. So it really takes me by surprise when she mutters, “shows, shows, shows… that’s all you care about, dad.”

I twist to peer out my window so she doesn’t see the wince that comes unbidden to my face if she looks through the mirror. That was a direct slam against me.

That really does hurt, and I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone.

“That’s not true,” I reply faintly.

“Did you care about my last ballet recital?”

Early this year, Minnie had a ballet recital. She was so excited about it because I had just finished my tour in December last year, and I’d already told my management that I would like a couple of months off. There was no reason for me not to attend, so I promised her I’d be there.

Except at the last moment, I realised I had forgot to switch an important meeting I had with the team from the new Manchester Arena. Since I invested in it, we had a meeting every few months because I said right from the beginning that I would take more than just a capital interest. I wanted to be involved in the development, because that was a huge project and I was really proud of it.

YN was in charge of our schedule and when she reminded me about the recital, which conflicted directly with my meeting, we ended up getting in the worst row we’ve ever had throughout our marriage.

“You’re going to let our daughter down in a way she won’t forgive,” she stated.

I refused to believe that, brushing off her comment with “I’ll take her out for something special later.” But my wife turned and stalked away from me.

That day, the meeting went great and the construction was almost done a few weeks earlier than intended, so there was an option if we wanted to open sooner. YN sent me a text with a video of Minnie’s performance, and it was beautiful. I was such a proud dad that I showed the video to everyone in that room.

When I got home, my wife and children cuddled on the sofa, watching a film. George was snoozing with his head on his mum’s lap on the far end, so I plopped myself down beside Minnie. I tugged on her hair playfully, and asked if she wanted to go out to a special daddy-daughter dinner to celebrate her recital.

“No, thank you,” she replied quietly, not taking her eyes off the telly.

“Come on, poppet,” I coaxed, trying to tickle her in the ribs a little. She only squirmed closer to her mum, not laughing from the tickle but grimacing like she didn’t want to be touched.

YN stared over Minnie with sorrow in her eyes. She gave a tiny shake of her head, but I wasn’t ready to give up.

“The Ivy?” I tried to tempt her because my kid loves chips, and she’s obsessed with their truffle and parmesan chips.

“No, thank you,” she muttered again, her head resting on her mum’s shoulder and her arm crossed over her middle. YN cuddled her with an arm around her shoulder. It had been clear that they were a unit, and I hadn’t been included.

“Minnie decided she wants to stop ballet lessons, so that was her last recital.”

“Oh,” I’d replied dumbly.

I couldn’t think of another damn thing to say because to do so would be disingenuous. There’s no doubt I killed my daughter’s potential love of ballet by not coming to her recital. I knew that because of YN’s expression of disappointment and Minnie’s dull dismissal.

Later that night, I walked by Minnie’s room and glanced in as the door was slightly open. I had bought her a bouquet of flowers that I gave her before I left for my meeting, and I saw that they’d been stuffed into the bin beside her desk.

I blink out of that memory, feeling the heavy weight of guilt. “Of course I did, my love. If I knew-”

“But not enough to come,” she replies dully. “And what about my debate competition? George’s piano recital? You showed up to none of them.”

I sigh heavily. “Minnie, a lot of parents have demanding jobs where they’re required to work or travel more than others. Sometimes A&E doctors have to work on Christmas and cannot see their children open the presents. Sometimes, a firefighter has to leave their house at night and can’t tuck their kids in bed.”

“I understand that,” she whirls and looks at me through the rear-view mirror. “Except you’re not saving lives or fighting fires, are you? You just get up on a stage and sing.”

“I’m a terrible dad, aren’t I?” I concede. “I know I’ve done things wrong in the past, but I’m trying to make it up to you, poppet. But I can’t do it if you won’t let me.”

She doesn’t say anything and it’s killing me. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” she rushes to assure me and I feel a little lighter. My daughter may act like a tween and have some bitter feelings towards me, but she loves me.

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” I continue. “Tell me how to make it up to you and I’ll do it. I want things to be good between us again.”

Her eyes flare with shock, and then they dart away as if she’s considering something. I wait expectantly. Maybe she’s going to finally open up and pour out her feelings for me. I’m ready for it.

I’m ready to listen, and validate, and reassure her that she, along with her mum and brother, are the loves of my life.

Her gaze comes back to me, her expression serious, and I brace.

“Can we get a puppy?”

What?

There’s no stopping the unlocking of my jaw and the dropping of my mouth because this was the last thing I expected her to say.

I’m so caught off guard that I can’t even think to immediately tell her ‘no’, which gives her time to launch into all the reasons why we should have a dog.

“Minnie, puppies are a lot of work. You’ve got to potty train them, teach them manners, and they get up for hours at night.”

“I promise I’ll do all that,” she exclaims.

“Like how you were supposed to take care of Fishy?” I can’t help but remind her. Fishy was her goldfish that we had to throw a funeral for a few years ago because she forgot to feed him. That poor sod died of hunger.

Minnie rolls her eyes. “I was six.”

She’s got a point.

Still, it’s obvious part of her request is manipulation because she threw it at me when I opened myself up to vulnerability. She knows I’m trying, and she’s throwing me a clear bone.

Get her a puppy, and all will be forgiven.

“Tell you what,” I look over my shoulder after I parked the car since we’ve reached home. “I promise to think about it, and I’ll talk to mummy.”

“Really?” She bounces in her seat in excitement.

“We’ll talk about it,” I reiterate in a calm, even voice. But there’s no stopping her excitement. The fact that I’m willing to consider is a huge victory for her because she knows that when I make my mind up about something, I never change it.

I open the door for her, and she is quick to unbuckle herself and throws herself at me.

I’m so surprised at the spontaneous act of affection that I almost don’t hug her back. It’s been so long since she’s shown this to me, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

I squeeze her tight, and I can only hope that my darling girl will always love her daddy the way she does right now.

George doesn’t even stir as I pick him up, and I tuck him in his bed straight away since I don’t want to wake him up. He must be tired, and good thing I’ve fed them both dinner.

Minnie even gives me another hug before she gets ready for bed, and that results in me having a permanent smile on my face even as I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen to see my wife.

“She’s chirpy,” YN comments when she sees me walking into the kitchen. “What did you do?”

“Got her to talk to me,” I smirk.

She looks surprised, and well, I can’t blame her. “Did she?”

“She did,” I nod. “Pointed out all my flaws, and when I asked her how I could make it up to her, she asked for a puppy.”

“What?”

“Exactly my reaction,” I chuckle.

“Boy, if she’s this good at emotional blackmailing at nine, we’d probably be in deep shit in a couple of years,” she jokes and I can’t help but laugh.

I’ve missed this.

“Will you go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

“I can’t.”

“What? Got a hot date already?” I ask teasingly, but her silence tells me what I don’t want to know. “Oh, you’re going out with him.”

“Mr Wife- I mean Luke asked me out first and I already said yes.”

I shouldn’t be laughing because the fact that my wife going on a date with another man is not funny at all, but it’s hard to hide my smirk when she almost calls him by the nickname I’ve given him, Mr Wife-stealer.

“Well, fair enough. He asked you first,” I say nonchalantly. “What does he do?”

“He’s an A&E doctor at the Northern General,” she says, her tone lightens a little.

“Smart then isn’t he,” I mutter.

“Yes. He’s smart, attentive, caring and generous with his time.”

I keep my expression and tone bland, but she landed a direct blow there and it fucking hurts. “All the things I’m not,” I state, voicing the conclusion she was aiming at.

“Well,” she drawls with a tiny bit of sympathy. “I do think you’re smart.”

I give her a side eye-roll before I decide to be downright nosy and ask, “you can’t have been on many dates then?”

“True,” she chirps, a gleam in her eye as she sticks the knife in. “He is busy and his schedules are unpredictable. But when he’s gone, he makes sure I know I’m always on his mind. He sends me flowers for absolutely no reason other than because he wants to, calls me every day and we text all the time.”

Well, sodding fucking bollocking shit wank. I didn’t think YN would fall for that crap. And I realise… I never thought to do that stuff for her. I was the self-absorbed type of person who figured that my wife knew I thought about her all the time when I was away. I mean we were married, so I just assumed she knew.

I’m a shit head.

“What else does he do for you?” I ask and she blinks in surprise.

“Why?” She asks suspiciously.

“I told you I want our marriage to work.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, trying to read my tone and see whether I’m being genuine or it’s just bollocks. Finally, she replies primly, “I’m not giving away his secrets.”

What the fuck does that mean? Have they shagged? I would bet a million pounds they had not though, because I know YN and she wouldn’t enter into that deep of a relationship lightly.

Without even thinking twice, I make a sudden step into her. My arm goes around her waist and I pull her body into me. Not a single inch of space between us. Her mouth opens in a gasp of surprise, and I use the opportunity to kiss her.

I kiss the fuck out of my wife.

Her hands slap against my upper arms, and her fingers dig into my sleeves. Even as she’s pushing me away, her mouth opens, and her tongue touches mine briefly.

When I pull back, I ask, “did he kiss you like this?”

She shakes her head, breathlessly admitting, “we haven’t-”

My jaw drops. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not,” she murmurs.

“How long exactly have you been seeing him?”

“About four weeks.”

“Honey, he’s rooting for the other team,” I tell her and she slaps my arm.

“Sod off, he’s not,” she counters.

“Four weeks with the hottest, most gorgeous, shaggable woman and he hasn’t tried to kiss you? I mean not that I’m not grateful because, fuck, I am. But wow.”

“Of course he did try,” she rolls her eyes. “But I’m not ready for that, and he’s okay with us taking it slow.”

For a second I don’t say anything in response. Instead, I loosen my hold, bringing my hand to her lower back, and cupping her intimately from behind. Moaning, she leans into me. “I’m guessing he hasn’t touched you like this then.”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she lets her eyelids flutter closed as her teeth bite into her lower lip.

Fuck. I could drag her to the floor right now, and we could go at it.

But then she comes to her senses, blinking rapidly, and I release her immediately when she gives me a tiny shove backwards.

“You’re not playing fair,” she accuses.

Damn right I’m not. I grab her upper arms, pull her back into me for one last kiss before I let her go just as quickly. “I’m playing to win.”

She takes a step back, brushes a wisp of hair from her temple, and puts on a cool expression. “That’s not going to make me take you back.”

I smirk.

She waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re great with your hands and your mouth, but a lot of men know how to please a woman.”

She’s got a bonus point for trying to make me jealous, but I’m not falling for it. Instead, I give her a devilish smile and dip my head towards her.

“That’s true, but no one will ever please you the way I can.”

I’m enjoying our banter, and I expect her to come up with a snappy retort that might make me kiss her again.

Instead, her expression is sad when she says, “I wish I could be happy with that.”

My heart squeezes, and I lift a hand to palm the side of her neck. I wait until she meets my gaze. “We’re more than just sex, darling. I know you need and deserve more. I’m ready to prove that to you.”

I lean in, pressing my lips to her forehead.

She doesn’t respond as I pivot and head through the living room, letting myself out the door.

All in all, I think that went very well.

***

I’m back at my wife’s cottage, waiting for my kids as they get ready upstairs. Minnie has finally agreed to go on a daddy-daughter date and George is going to an overnight sleepover birthday party, and I’ll drop him off at his classmate’s house before I take his sister out to dinner. I’ll make sure to make it up to him by taking him on a special one on one date too next week.

There’s a light rap on the door, and my head swings that way. I have no doubt that it’s Mr Wife-stealer who’s going to take my wife out on a date.

I glance towards the master suite, but the door is closed. YN is probably putting on the finishing touches of her makeup. And the kids are still upstairs.

Nothing left to do but let him in.

Forcing a smile, I open the front door. He blinks in surprise to see me standing there, and I know I’ve got two options here; I could either easily dispel the awkwardness by being cool, welcoming and explaining our schedules happened to overlap.

Or… I could use whatever amount of alone time I have with him to instill some doubt inside his head.

That would be a dirty play, but as I have told my wife, I play to win.

Broadening my smile, I stick my hand out. “You must be Luke. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Harry.”

He seems momentarily frozen, but then basic manners take over. When he shakes my hand, it’s a bit limp, perhaps denoting a lack of confidence. After I release him, I bid him entrance with a sweep of my hand. “YN is in the bedroom. She’s still getting ready.”

Luke frowns over the fact that I know YN is in the bedroom. Probably over me even being here to talk to him. But I don’t dispel any innuendo he might glean from that.

I loop an arm around his shoulders, clamp down, and start guiding him to the kitchen. “Come on in and sit for a bit while she’s finishing up. Want a beer?”

Luke moves to one of the island stools, looking completely frazzled. “Uh… no, thank you.”

I shrug, moving to the fridge and opening it. Grabbing a bottle, I say with a sly grin as I close it. “So glad YN still stocks my favourite beer.”

I am so going to hell.

But that’s the truth. It’s my wife’s favourite beer, too, but I don't tell him that. Instead, I let the implication that I come over and have beers often. Luke’s frown deepens.

“YN tells me you work at the Northern General?” I take a sip of my beer, then lean my forearms on the island directly across from him so we’re eye level.

“Yeah… uh, that’s right.” Poor Luke. He seems incapable of carrying on a polite conversation with the husband of the woman he’s dating.

But I’m going to give him a pass. Setting my beer down, I straighten. “Let me go tell YN you’re here.”

“Um… you don’t have-” he starts to say, but I move past him without a backward glance. Through the living room, down the small hall, and a hard left takes me to the master suite. The door’s closed. I don’t bother knocking because I know YN is dressed.

I find her in the ensuite, her makeup drawer open and she’s huddled over it, touching something inside.

“Your date’s here,” I announce.

She lets out a yip of fright, shoving whatever it was in her hand to the back and slamming the drawer closed.

“Damn it, Harry,” she snaps, her palm pressed against her heart. “You scared the hell out of me. And what are you doing in my room?”

“Just running an errand for you. Wanted to let you know your date is here,” I say casually and I give her a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, I welcomed him in, offered him a drink, and made small talk.”

She rolls her eyes, rising from her vanity chair and moves past me without another word. I start to follow, but then I hesitate and turn back to the drawer of her vanity. Quietly, I pull it open as far as it will go, spotting a picture of YN and me stuffed in the back.

I recognise it. It’s from a trip we took to Anguilla a few years back, just the two of us, and fuck if we didn’t look happy and deeply in love.

Was that what she was looking at when I walked in?

That could be good or bad, but either way, no way to know the answer. I shut the drawer, then catch up to her as she’s moving through the living room. Luke sees her, sliding off the stool. When she holds out her hands, he takes them and leans in to kiss her on the cheek.

Lame.

I sit on the armrest of the sofa, watching. Luke glances over YN’s shoulder at me as he pulls back, smiling victoriously.

I just smirk back. Because he’d probably lose it if he knew the type of kiss I gave my wife just last night. But I’ll keep that information to myself, though.

YN grabs her handbag off the accent table near the staircase before addressing me. “Make sure Minnie locks up when you leave, and remind George I’ll pick him up at ten tomorrow morning.”

I give her a jaunty salute. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

In return, I get another eye roll.

Luke puts his hand on my wife’s back, shooting me a look that says, ‘she’s mine tonight’, and I want to punch his teeth down the back of his throat. I just smile blandly, because, in just a few minutes of talking to him and watching how they interact, I can tell he’s getting nothing more than a friendly kiss when he brings her home.

YN might want to keep pushing at that relationship, but I am willing to bet that it’s not going to go anywhere. I know this, because I’m sure that my wife is still in love with me.

Read part II here!

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #boyfriend!harry #husband!harry #dad!harry #dad harry styles #dad harry imagines #dad harry styles imagines

1K notes · View notes

frankiekatt · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can I request some domestic and fluffy headcanons for Thomas Hewitt with a significant other?

Thanks in advance, lots of love 😘

Yes of course! Thomas is the love of my life, I adore him!

TW: Implied murder, (1) mention of gore, implied NSFW

Domestic And Fluffy Headcanons For Thomas Hewitt And His S/O:

Thomas craves fluffiness and domesticity , let me tell you

Thomas has spent his entire youth being bullied and ridiculed, never having any type of companionship. Even as he got older he has always been under Hoyt’s control, feeling like he never gets to make his own decisions. So when he finally has someone who will care for him and listen to him and love him, he is over the moon!

When Thomas wakes up beside you in the morning he is always in awe of you - you look so peaceful and serene and he still cannot believe that he has someone like you to love and who loves him.

He tries his very best to get out of bed without waking you but Tommy is a big boy so he almost always fails.

He feels so bad every time he wakes you up that he lurches forward to pat you on the shoulders as an apology.

This always makes you giggle though, because how could you be mad at such a sweet boy?

Once you are up and about after Thomas’ slip up, you both get ready for the day together. Thomas tries not to look at you while you’re getting dressed because he doesn’t want to be disrespectful, but sometimes you turn around and catch him looking away from you with a slight blush in his cheeks.

Breakfast is always a rushed occasion because everyone needs to get started on chores as soon as possible, but you and Tommy spend what little time you have in the mornings holding hands underneath the breakfast table while the both of you scramble to finish your fruit.

You don’t see too much of Thomas during the main part of the day because he’s busy down in the basement and you’re busy either in the kitchen or the garden, but you do make it a point to make Tommy a sandwich and some tea for lunch and bring it down to him while he’s working.

Thomas is always very grateful and excited when you do this. He doesn’t like to have you in the basement around all the gore and grime, but seeing you again after so many hours, being so kind as to make him food, he can’t help but be delighted at your presence.

Towards the end of the day, when everyone’s chores are completed, you and Thomas have some time to spend together before dinner is ready.

One of Thomas’ favorite pastimes is to go sit outside with you just as the sun is setting and watch the fireflies light up all around the house while you sit next to him.

He’ll excitedly point out each firefly that lights up just to be sure that you don’t miss it!

These moments often lead to soft kisses and sweet hand holds on the front porch while the sky is painted in pinks and oranges, which makes it extra romantic.

Sometimes though, Thomas likes to go to your shared bedroom to lay down for a bit before supper.

He loves for you to lay down next to him and assume the role of the big spoon while stroking the back of his head because this sweet boy loves to be taken care of.

Sometimes these little half naps can lead to something more intimate. Thomas loves when you kiss down his body, soon reaching the top button of his trousers, where you palm him gently. This heavy petting and wet kisses makes his heart rate go up and his breathing ragged before Luda Mae is calling you down to help set the table.

You groan and place a chaste kiss to Tommy’s cheek before heading down stairs.

As Monty, Hoyt, and Thomas all enter the kitchen to eat dinner together, Thomas admires how domestic you look preparing the table for them. He just thinks you look so cute doing house-wife type things!

The rest of the family never notices how you actively avoid eating the meat of the meal, sticking to the vegetables and side dishes. Thomas notices though. Thomas notices every little thing about you, and this particular thing always makes him feel guilty. He knows this isn’t exactly the life you envisioned for yourself - living in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of murderers who eat other people to survive. Sometimes, Thomas half expects to wake up to see you’ve left him to make a better life for yourself.

He doesn’t think he deserves you, not one bit. He views himself as a big, ugly monster and he can never understand why a beautiful angel such as yourself could ever want to be with him.

You notice him looking down at his hands, recognizing the look of self hatred on his face before letting your hand fall down to his knee and squeezing assuringly. You know Thomas feels this way and you hate it. You fell in love with Thomas wholeheartedly and you adore everything about him. He has always been so kind and gentle and loving and giving. Why can’t he see himself the way you see him?

‘I love you,’ you mouth to him as he looks up at you. He lets his big hands rest atop yours and nods sofly. A silent ‘I love you too,’

Once everyone finishes dinner, you and Thomas head up to bed. After a full day of chores and a large dinner, the two of you are spent.

Bedtime for the two of you is always soft and pillowy. The house is dark and quiet and the only people in your little world are yourself and the man you love.

Thomas falls asleep pretty quickly, whereas it takes a bit for you to slumber.

You always lay on Thomas’ chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away, listening to his even breathing.

No, this is not the life you dreamed of when you were younger. It is so much better than any dream or expectation you might have previously had because laying in the arms of the man who owns your heart every night is more than you could ever ask for.

#slashers #thomas hewitt #slasher x reader #thomas hewitt x you #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #thomas hewitt x reader

242 notes · View notes

idkthisisjustforfanfic · 3 years

Text

that makes four.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

PART 1

Your feet dangled down from the stool, elbows on the granite counter when Jeff turned around. “Alright,” he said, lips in a thin smile when he revealed the plate of reheated lasagna that someone dropped off in the last few days. “Smells good.”

You looked up at him with an unimpressed stare. “It looks a little disgusting.”

“It’s vegan, I think.”

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes. “You start one all natural skincare line and people think you only eat plant-based shit.”

He let out a small laugh, set the plate down and watched as you picked up the fork. One bite--mediocre. Not exactly hot enough, but after all Jeff had done for you the last few days, you didn’t have the heart to demand he put it in for another minute.

“So--do you think it went well?”

You laughed around the food in your mouth, picked up a paper napkin and let your head tilt to the side. “As good as a funeral could be.”

The lights in your kitchen were dim and the sun had already faded behind the trees, the house quiet after people finally filed out. Friends, extended family, strangers you’d never met had flocked to Los Angeles for the funeral of your famous father.

It’d been coming from a mile away. His health declined, an obvious result of the cocaine and the cigarettes and whatever else he’d ingested regularly in the 70s. A heart attack a year ago put him on a fast track to the afterlife, but he always joked that he’d probably end up in hell.

Being in the music industry ruined him, in a way--it ruined your parents’ marriage and it ruined a lot of the relationships your father had. Blow outs and big fights that left him exiled from a lot of social circles, sometimes never speaking to people again after one bad phone call. But it was never like that with Irv.

“Well, I’ve never seen my dad cry so hard,” Jeff smiled. “He really loved him.”

Another bite of the soggy noodles and fake cheese. “I know.”

A comfortable silence, the doors off the kitchen were open, a breeze from the backyard let the southern California warmth blow through the sheer curtains when you sipped at your left over wine.

Jeff was the closest thing you had to a sibling, his family was all you had left at this point. You were tossed in the bathtub with him and his siblings as a baby, shoved into family photos and tagged along for vacations.

Being closest in age to Jeff meant people always hoped it would be the two of you that would end up together. Happily ever after or having babies of your own. But when you saw Jeff wolf down a whole pizza at his bar mitzvah, any hope of a spark between the two of you had been permanently extinguished.

His older sister was the one who told you what it meant to have sex, and after your mom died, his mom helped you pick out a dress for your Sweet Sixteen.

She was the one who talked you off the ledge when you found out you were pregnant only a few years later, she was the one who threw you both baby showers and she was the one who helped you through your divorce only six months earlier.

So now that your dad was gone, too, you wondered where you fit into their family and what your definition of family even was.

Before the thought could cross your mind, the front door was pushed open and the sound of high pitched giggles floated in from the foyer.

CeCe’s tiny voice echoed down the hall. “Uncle Jeff?”

“Is that my CeCe?” He took a few steps forward and she ran straight into his legs, he hoisted her up onto his hip when Maeve rounded the corner with Tristan in tow.

“Hi honey,” you opened an arm so your ten-year-old could fit into the side of you. She leaned her head on her shoulder. “How was ice cream?”

The easiest ploy to get them out of the house while you hosted some kind of awkward afterparty.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But Tristan said that funerals are a selfish attempt by the living to hold on to someone after they’re dead.”

You blinked a few times and looked down at her, shocked by the words and apparently, her ability to understand them. You looked over at Tristan, arched eyebrows to communicate how displeased you were.

His eyes went wide when Jeff choked down a laugh. “I didn’t--I don’t know what you’re talking about Maeve.”

You kissed Maeve on the head. “Well, Tristan is wrong about a lot of things, trust me. But you two should go get ready for bed, it’s been a long day.”

You looked over at him again--younger by two years and easily one of the most important people in your life. You met him only a year after you started your business, he had a knack for brand management and eye for design that you couldn’t pass up. He was way too sarcastic and cynical to be your regular babysitter, but Jeff and his family were basically in the receiving line beside you.

Jeff let CeCe climb down and Maeve took her by the hand as they headed for the kitchen stairs to the second floor, leaving you alone at the island with two of your closest friends.

He waited until he heard the water turn on from their bathroom sink, then whispered in Tristan’s direction. “Great idea to say that to a ten-year-old and a six-year-old after their grandpa dies.”

Tristan rolled his eyes theatrically, “she asked why so many people came and why she’d never met any of them if they loved her grandpa so much.”

“Well, you can expect a bill for their therapy in a few years,” you laughed, forking more lasagna into your mouth.

Tristan made his way over to the fridge and pulled out the glass dish, helping himself to a piece when Jeff took a seat beside you. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” you glanced at him sideways, suspicious about any ulterior motive he might have.

“Okay, Y/N,” Jeff laughed, Tristan eyed you from over his shoulder like he didn’t believe you. “Let me try again. How are you feeling emotionally?”

You cleared your throat and swallowed the most recent bite of dinner. “Oh, you mean cause my husband left me six months ago and my dad just died and now I’m a single mom with two fiesty daughters who just inherited a giant house aaaaaand,” you drew out the word for dramatic effect. “I’m a business owner who barely gets any sleep?”

“That’s what I was getting at, yes,” Jeff nodded and fought a smirk.

“I’m alright,” you sighed. “Tired. Kind of freaked out about what the fuck is going on in my life, but, I’ll survive. I always survive."

You knew you would--in fact, you’d been waiting for this moment for the last few weeks. When Jeff’s mom called to tell you your dad needed to be put in hospice, you prepared. You talked to Maeve and CeCe and explained it all in a way they’d understand. His life on earth is over, but we can still talk to him and visit a pretty garden to remember him.

It was a lot to deal with only a few months after your high school sweetheart turned husband admitted he’d been having an affair and moved out, you saw on Facebook that he’d since bought a motorcycle and was spending most of his time at bars along the coast. That whole fiasco was harder to explain to your children.

And now suddenly everyone wanted to make sure you were okay. Frozen dinners, offers to drive your kids to and from their extracurriculars, a lot of attention was suddenly thrust onto you and your family, as if you hadn’t always hated that growing up.

But you knew the time would come when life would settle back down. Cousins and aunts and uncles would fly home, people would stop asking how you were doing post divorce. Dust would settle and the sun would set on this chapter and frankly, it couldn’t happen soon enough.

So here you were, the funeral was over, the dinner in his honor at Jeff’s parents, the media coverage was starting to die down and life could return to normal. Or, at least, a new normal.

Your dad had been a fixture in your life--weekly dinner dates with grandpa gave you a minute to yourself after working long days and answering endless phone calls. A glass of wine on the couch or even dinner with Tristan and Zoey was a nice escape from breaking up fights or figuring out how to reattach the head of a Barbie doll after someone shoved someone into a closet and tears and screaming ensued.

“You will definitely survive,” Jeff nodded.

Tristan came and sat, forked into the lasagna and made a face when he realized how bad it was. “Is this fake cheese?”

“Unfortunately,” you nodded.

Tristan made a face and then cleared his throat. “I, for one, think this is the start of a new chapter for you. New opportunities, new love,” he smirked.

A quick retort: “Yeah, that’s obviously the first priority right now.”

“He’s right, though,” Jeff said. “You have a fresh start, a totally new chapter.”

You nodded--they were right, but easing into a new chapter felt a lot better than trying to dive right in.

“Speaking of a fresh start, you know, changing things up,” Jeff forced a grin in your direction. “Can we actually talk for a second?”

You eyed him suspiciously, put your fork down to bow out from eating the world’s worst lasagna. “Yeah?”

“I have kind of a weird favor to ask. And--I know it’s kind of bad timing, with everything going on, but--just hear me out, okay?”

Instead of replying, you watched him, lifted your brows to encourage him to continue and tread carefully.

“So I have a client who isn’t from here, he bought a house but it’s in the middle of getting renovated. There’s kind of been a lot going on, it’s a long story.”

“Okay,” you nodded, unsure where he was going with it.

“He needs a place to stay, and I was wondering if maybe he could stay here for a little.”

“Here, like, here here?” You pointed to the floor of your kitchen, an elegant upgrade from the more modest house in Woodland Hills you’d occupied before the divorce.

Along with the death of your father came the inheritance of his Bel Air estate and all of the bedrooms, the four car garage, the manicured lawn and the pool out back. Some people thought you should sell it, use the cash to make trusts for the girls or save for college.

Selling it didn’t feel right, though. It was the house he worked so hard for, the house you called home for the later half of your teen years and the place you always came back to when things got hard. So instead of putting it on the market and closing that chapter, once again, you returned to the safe haven in the hills when you didn’t know where else to turn.

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but you have the room and it might be fun to have someone else around and--”

“I have two daughters, Jeff, I can’t just let a stranger live with us.”

“He’s not a stranger, Y/N, he’s my friend. We’re really close.”

“Who is he?” Tristan asked, waving his fork in the air to remind us that he was still present.

“Harry Styles.”

Tristan’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “The kid from the boyband?”

“No way,” you shook your head, dismissing it before you could even let his name register. “I’m not having a pop star boy band kid stay in my house.”

“Okay,” Jeff held up a hand to get Tristan to relax, then moved to point at you. “He’s 24, number one. He’s not a kid, he’s, like, only a few years younger than us.”

“Yes,” you nodded, “exactly. I don’t need a 24-year-old living with my daughters.”

“He’s not like that, though. He’s responsible and he’s a family friendly dude, and--”

“Then why can’t he live with you? Or with your parents?”

“I don’t have the room,” he said. “And my dad hates house guests.”

You rolled your eyes, it was obnoxious, but it was true. Irv hated having people stay over almost as much as he hated it when your dad beat him in golf.

Jeff took your silence as an opportunity to continue selling you on the idea. “He just finished his tour, he’s working on his second album. He’s probably going to be in the studio a lot, Y/N. Do you really think I would let some crazy party animal live with my nieces?”

Another eye roll from both you and Tristan.

“Is this like, just a few nights?” You asked.

“Like, two weeks. Tops.”

“Two weeks?!” You shook your head. “No--I can’t put them through that after all the shit that’s been going on this year. Why can’t he just stay in a hotel?”

“Cause that’s lonely and he’s a people person and--I don’t know, it might be good for you to have someone around.”

You rolled your eyes that, was it a jab at your new status as a single mom or new status as a fatherless daughter? Unsure.

Jeff stood from the counter and grabbed for his phone on the far end of the island. “Just think about it, okay? I’ve gotta run. A few weeks, built in babysitting, maybe--he’s great with kids.”

“I’ve already thought about it,” you told him, resting your chin in your hand and offering a sugary sweet smile. “No fucking way.”

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice called from upstairs, you hoisted yourself up, ready to tuck them in and forget that Jeff had ever asked such a ludicrous question.

“I would owe you big time--it might be fun! You’ve got the room, he could be a positive male influence on the girls.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the end of his sentence--like that would really sway you.

“And I’m not that?” Tristan pulled his head back, offended.

“You’re the one who told them funerals are stupid,” Jeff said with a sarcastic smirk.

“And you’re the crazy one trying to let a stranger move in here like it’s an AirBnB,” you shot back at Jeff. “So maybe they do need a better male influence than both of you.”

“Mommy!” CeCe called again, more impatient this time.

“I’m coming!” You shouted. “You, let yourself out when you’re finished eating this terrible meal,” you pointed at Tristan and the lasagna. “And you,” you pointed at Jeff with a smirk. “Please never speak to me again.”

He was already heading for the door, keys in hand when he blew you a kiss. “Love you, see you soon!”

“Love you,” you called back, bounding up the stairs, mom mode activated.

A text message the next day when you were at work:

Jeff Azoff (1:43pm): 🙏😇🙏😇

You blew air from your lips, Zoey sat across from you at a conference table when you took a late lunch. She was the first friend you made when you started high school, your long time confidant aside from Tristan and Jeff and a sure bet to tell it like it is.

Now she regularly popped into the Luna offices and she loved nothing more than acting like she was a higher up at your business. She’d rather be doing that than admit she was a new mom with no clue what the next chapter of her life would look like. You had that in common.

Her two-month-old son, Benny, sat in a carrier on the ground, his eyelashes fluttered when Zoey put her feet up on the chair beside her.

“What’s the sigh for?”

“Jeff is being annoying.”

“What’d he do now?”

You looked over at her, nose deep in her phone when you took another bite of the burrito bowl she’d picked up for you. You didn’t know if it was worth it to explain it all. Zoey was excitable, never one to turn down an adventure and her aptly timed identity crisis that came with becoming a mom was sure to make her encourage bad decisions even more.

She looked up at you, suddenly aware of the wheels spinning in your mind.

“Spill it,” she instructed. She put her phone down and let out a breath, clasped her hands and waited for you to fill her in.

“He asked me to let a friend of his stay with us in my dad’s house.”

“Your house,” she corrected. “Deed’s in your name now.”

“My house,” you nodded. “And I feel weird about it.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Some client of his,” you tried to wave it off as if the name didn’t matter.

It didn’t, really. You’d long been exposed to the rich and famous just because of the nature of your father’s work. He was one of the biggest managers in the music industry in partnership with Jeff’s dad, so you were no stranger to beautiful people with beautiful cars and beautiful homes. When Jeff took on the family business, you only grew more accustomed to it.

“So a celebrity?” she shimmied her shoulders in excitement. “Which one?”

“Harry Styles,” you said the name slowly, quietly, even though it was just the two of you in the second floor conference room and even though this was your office that you bought and you owned and you ran.

“He’s hot,” she nodded casually, less impressed than you’d expected.

“He’s also like twenty-something, so it's disgusting for you to say that.”

“Oh relax,” she dismissed your concern. “He could be your pool boy.”

Zoey--who also grew up in Southern California and spent plenty of time at your house as a kid--hadn’t yet grown so accustomed to the coming and going of celebrities. Her parents owned a florist shop in Santa Monica and in high school you had to tell her she could only come to a Britney Spears concert if she didn’t cry when you inevitably met her in the green room thanks to your dad.

“I have children,” you reminded her. “A ten-year-old who might as well be fifteen and a six-year-old who would think I literally bought her a human playmate.”

“But if he’s friends with Jeff I highly doubt he’s a serial killer,” she reasoned.

“Wow, you are completely missing the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”

“It’s weird--I can’t have a stranger move in with my kids.”

“Why not?”

“Because first their dad left us and now their grandpa died.”

“Sounds like they need a new man in their life.”

You ignored the similarity of her words with Jeff’s from the other night. “I just think it’s crazy.”

“Okay,” she sat up straight and suddenly looked like this was morphing into a business conversation. “How long?”

“Two weeks.”

“Oh my god,” she turned her palms towards the sky. “Just do it.”

“What? No!”

“It’s two weeks--it’ll take your mind off of all the shit that’s been going on, it’ll be a fun distraction for the girls. You have so much space in that house you will never even know he’s there. And you’re helping a friend.”

She wasn’t wrong: Harry could likely stay in the bedroom all the way on the other end of the hall from where the girls slept. Maeve was thrilled to get her own room in the move and CeCe would occasionally run into your room after a nightmare, so the space was a plus.

He’d have his own room, his own bathroom. Hell, he could even park in the extra garage and enter from the back of the house. Maybe you wouldn’t even notice he existed.

You sighed, tugged at your necklace when you met her gaze. “I just feel really protective over them right now. I feel like Luke ruined their sense of family and now with my dad gone--”

She stuck her tongue out in disgust at the sound of your ex’s name. “I get that--but they have you. They have Jeff and his family and they have me and Shawn and now Benny.”

You offered a small smile at her reassurance. She was right in a lot of ways. The Azoffs were as much a family to your daughters as they had been to you. Shelli and Irv were like grandparents, they offered to babysit plenty of times and they always managed to get the girls the most amazing birthday presents.

But something in you knew it wasn’t the same. You’d dreamed of giving your daughters the sense of family you never had: a mom and a dad who loved each other. One house, not two that had two different beds and sets of books or toys.

Luckily and unluckily, your ex hadn’t made a huge deal about custody. Visits here and there were outlined in your divorce papers, but at this point in time he didn’t seem the most interested in maintaining a relationship with his daughters, even though he promised way back when that he’d never leave.

Getting pregnant with him during college wasn’t planned, but he swore you’d make it work and you tied the knot only a few months before Maeve was born. Things were good at first, you always knew you’d have more than one--if only to combat your own only-child loneliness--and then CeCe came five years later when you felt a little more prepared.

“I don’t think it’s going to traumatize them, Y/N. I mean, the least you could do is meet the guy.”

You watched her for a minute, blew air from your nose in a huff before you picked up your phone.

Y/N L/N (1:56pm): Fine. I’ll meet him.

Three days later you pulled up to a cafe in Brentwood and took a deep breath in the parking lot. If he was creepy, you wouldn’t go for it. If you got even the slightest weird vibe from him, you’d ex-communicate Jeff and only go over to visit his parents with the girls when he wasn’t around.

You’d already been leaning towards just doing it, especially once Tristan got a glass of wine in you and reminded you what your dad would have said: he who helps is one who prospers.

A few sleepless nights left you staring at the ceiling and wondering if you were crazy. You just now had the chance to let life settle down and here you were, mourning the loss of your biggest supporter, trying to piece yourself back together post divorce, and considering letting a stranger move in? Grief really did do strange things to people.

But when you walked in and found them sitting at a table in the back, something clicked.

Your dad was already fond of your possible houseguest, which you only knew from overhearing previous conversations between him and Irv about how proud they were of Jeff for picking up the family business, and now it all made sense.

A small part of you--probably the stupidest part of you--wondered if there was something cosmic about it. Your dad was always one to let his artists stay in the house, if they weren’t creepy, of course. You grew up with bands rehearsing in the backyard and going to shows at the Troubadour before you were old enough to drive, and you turned out fine.

“Hi,” Harry stood, offered a hand and introduced himself after Jeff gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Harry, pleasure to meet you.” Polite, maybe a bit of a kiss ass. Your dad must have loved him.

“Y/N,” you nodded, sat down when Jeff tugged out a chair for you. “Thanks for--uh--meeting with me, I guess.”

“Thanks for maybe letting me stay at your house,” he offered a sheepish smile, held your gaze for a second when Jeff adjusted the sunglasses clipped to his shirt.

“I’m actually surprised you guys haven’t met before,” he said.

“I’ve been a little busy this year,” you reminded him with a nod. “But--nice to finally meet you.”

Harry nodded, a dimple in his left cheek ignited a tiny spark in your chest, but you pushed Zoey’s words out of your mind. Two weeks, it wasn’t a big deal. He’d be in and out and this would be a blip on the radar.

“We can order coffee or something, but Y/N, I’m assuming you have like, a whole interrogation mapped out?”

You pretended to laugh at Jeff’s joke, turned to Harry and offered a no-nonsense smile. “I have two children, I got divorced earlier this year and my dad just died. So I don’t need any drama or anything. This is temporary and I’m doing this to help out a friend. Jeff, that is, not you.”

He laughed at your clarification and nodded. “Right. This is just me living in your house. No drama. Short-term.”

“And obviously my children will be there, so no guests.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay I’m not that much older than you,” you said it quickly, offered a small smile when he looked a little scared.

“Sorry--no, I didn’t mean that in a rude way.”

“No ma’am,” you added a rule, pulling a laugh from both of them when you lifted another finger in the air to count them off. “No drugs or alcohol, unless it’s like a glass of wine at dinner or something,” you shrugged.

“Look,” Jeff leaned forward. “Y/N’s kids are great, she’s got a great skincare company and she’s a kickass human. And you need a place to stay, so don’t fuck this up.”

“You both have my word. No drugs, no alcohol, no guests, no ma’am,” he smirked in your direction. “I’ve lived alone for a while, so, it’ll be nice to have some roommates.”

You nodded slowly and watched him for a second. A hoodie with the name of the management firm your dad and Irv had started, a backwards baseball hat and simple Ray-Bans. You ignored the fluttering in your veins from just looking at him, your own words echoed against the walls of your skull: he’s also like twenty-something, so that’s disgusting.

This was his brand, you were sure. Something Jeff had worked hard on--the looks, the smile, the exact formula that management firms drooled over was playing out in front of you. You sipped your drink once the waiter delivered three cappuccinos. Two weeks, tops.

Los Angeles afternoons were meant for playing outside, which is what your daughters did best if they weren’t busy pulling each other’s hair. You had dinner on the stove--enough for five--and a knot of nerves in your stomach when the wheels of his fancy car crunched atop the gravel.

The girls ran to greet him and Jeff showed him around the house. Now, Harry sat across from you at the table, Maeve to his left with an unimpressed look on her face when you cleared your throat. “Okay, gratitude time.”

Jeff set his fork back down, a guilty look on his face to admit he’d forgotten about your pre-dinner ritual.

CeCe squirmed in her seat, let out a sigh when Maeve protested with a flutter of her eyelashes. “I don’t have anything to be thankful for,” she informed you.

“That feels a little hard to believe,” you nodded, losing patience for her attitude over the last few days. “CeCe, do you want to go?”

Your younger daughter looked up at you, scrunched her mouth and thought about it. “I don’t have anything either.”

You tried not to groan aloud. After the week you’d had and the sudden changes in your life, disciplining your daughters felt like the last thing you wanted to do, if only they’d just behave.

“I can go,” Harry lifted his hand sheepishly as if he was sitting in a classroom and not in your dining room, a dimple on his cheek when he smiled sheepishly.

“Take it away,” you motioned towards him.

“M’thankful for being here, having a place to stay--and what looks like it will be a delicious meal.” By now he had a bit of smug look on his face, maybe proud of the fact that he’d broken the ice and stepped up to the pre-dinner prompt.

“Mom’s cooking is a solid six out of ten on a good day,” Maeve looked over at him, her fork now in her hand as if she was ready to dig in.

“Okay,” you leaned in and caught her gaze. “Drop the attitude or go to your room.”

“I’m thankful for Emma,” she named her friend, her quick submission after she rolled her eyes told you she just wanted to eat and get this over with. “She warned me today that Hayley was wearing a shirt I wore last week so I think she’s copying me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, you’d accept anything at this point. “CeCe? Last chance.”

“I’m grateful for pudding.”

Harry let out a quiet laugh, you nodded and said: “Great. I’m thankful for you two,” you smiled at them, hopeful that this nightly tradition would hold some type of meaning, more than just eye rolls and pre-pubescent angst from Maeve.

Jeff looked over at the girls, “I’m thankful for my friend Harry getting to meet my other friends, CeCe and Maeve.”

“Aww,” Harry smiled, a hand clutched to his heart when he looked between them.

“Alright,” you were annoyed by how good your daughters were at turning on their charm for anyone but you. Jeff was often the fun uncle, just like your ex had been the fun dad, which left you forcing them to play this gratitude game every night after they finished their homework.

CeCe wasted no time digging into the spaghetti on her plate, leaving Jeff to ask Maeve: “so what are you going to do about Hayley?”

“I don’t know,” Maeve sighed. “She’ll die when she finds out that you’re sleeping over,” she pointed her fork at Harry.

“He’s not sleeping over,” you corrected. “He’s staying in one of the guest rooms, remember?” You’d already explained it a few times to them. A few weeks, he’s working on more music, he’ll be busy, he’s not here to play with you.

“Whatever,” Maeve said. “Maybe I’ll hold it over her.”

“Maeve,” you looked over, unsure what had gotten into her. “I thought we talked about this stuff with Hayley?”

“I know--but she just keeps annoying me,” Maeve explained.

“Dump pasta on her head,” CeCe suggested with a giggle.

“Don’t do that,” you looked at CeCe and poked her in the stomach.

“I personally am a big fan of that idea,” Jeff smiled over at CeCe. “But it’d probably be better to just forget about it. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“Or the sincerest form of annoying,” she retorted.

Harry let out a laugh at that, caught your gaze when you wondered how soon it’d take him to get annoyed with your kids.

They were great--smart, funny, clever, definitely witty and sometimes dramatic. But they were good kids.

You remembered how tough it was to adapt to motherhood, even though they were your own. Something told you that Harry, no matter how short his stay would be, was not in the chapter of his life that entailed finding joy in playdates and pillow fights.

But he made it through dinner, quiet but friendly and as soon as Maeve was finished, she begged him to play squishball outside before sunset.

“Squishball?” his eyebrows dipped together. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s basically just baseball but with a softer bat and a foam ball cause mom doesn’t want us to break our skulls,” Maeve informed.

“I never said break your skulls,” you argued.

“But it’s what you meant,” she shrugged.

“I would love to play,” Harry laughed, unbelievably entertained by the back and forth he’d already witnessed. They yanked him outside and set up their tiny diamond, CeCe pulled on a tutu just for flair and you and Jeff were left to handle the aftermath of a family dinner.

Jeff put the final plate into the dishwasher after a little bit and offered a hesitant smile when he turned around. “So?”

“So what? It’s been like an hour and a half of him being here.”

Their laughter from outside was audible, CeCe shrieked when Maeve made contact with the bat and sent the ball soaring into the air. “The girls clearly love him.”

“Of course they do--they love anyone for the first two hours.”

“I think he’ll be good for you guys.”

You rolled your eyes, wiped the counter with the sponge when he continued.

“And you guys will be good for him.”

This got your attention. “How so?”

“He’s a people-person, never likes being on his own too much. Some structure and responsibility is good for him.”

“So I’m babysitting him?”

“Oh my god,” he laughed. “Relax, will you? This could be a mutually beneficial thing if you let it, that’s all I’m saying.”

You didn’t read too much into it, you figured Jeff was peppering you with reassurance only to calm your nerves or quell your concerns. When he was finished helping you clean, he hugged the girls goodbye and waved over his shoulder, leaving Harry alone in your house with you and your daughters and nothing but good intentions.

You left him downstairs at first, helped CeCe brush her hair and sat on the floor when Maeve picked out her clothes for the next day: hopefully Hayley doesn’t own this dress.

When you headed back downstairs an hour later, the girls were tucked in, the lights were off, and your usual plan would have been to check your work emails if it weren’t for the dimpled guy in your living room.

He stood at the bookcase, hands clasped behind his back when you found him.

“Hi, sorry--bedtime is always a--” you paused, not even knowing the right label. “A shit show. But thanks for playing with them earlier.”

He laughed, turned around and offered a smile. “No worries--they seem like great kids.”

“They are,” you assured. “Maeve’s been a bit snarky lately but I think that’s just the whole beginning of puberty thing.” You cringed a little when the words left your mouth, wondering if it was too much information for someone who likely had cooler things to do than talk about ten-year-olds and training bras.

But he smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets when you said: let me show you around.

He’d arrived at the worst time. Homework, dinner prep, CeCe crying because Maeve finished her homework first. You didn’t have the chance to give him a tour and you figured it would be better coming from you than from Jeff, that way you could remind him of all the rules.

You showed him the ground floor first. The library, the family room, the two offices and the three different remotes that all worked different TVs or speakers or lamps. He marveled at the pictures on the wall in your dad’s old office space, he was a legend, he told you.

He climbed the stairs behind you and whispered in response when you pointed out what was behind each door. Bathroom, Maeve’s room, CeCe’s room, guest room, another bathroom, master suite, guest room, his room.

You pushed the door open and stepped aside to let him in. Gray walls, a wooden four-post king-sized bed. Throw pillows you’d picked out when you moved in a few weeks ago, a dresser to the left. He looked around and nodded. “S’perfect.”

“Good,” you said, walking over to a small linen closet in his attached bath. “Towels are in here, should be soap and stuff in the shower--had our housekeeper stock it.”

“Thanks,” he nodded again.

“I don’t know where you parked, but there’s a garage in the back that my dad used to keep some of his sports cars in--there’s definitely room and that way you don’t have to leave yours out if it rains.”

Were you talking too much? You just wanted him to feel at home or at least welcomed.

“Amazing,” he said. “Thank you.”

A repetitive answer but it didn't stop you from rambling.

“Keurig’s on the counter--creamer in the fridge. Should be plenty of food but obviously feel free to stock what you like. Except like, weed.”

“Weed doesn’t go in the fridge...” he eyed you suspiciously, the same dimple appeared on his cheek and you rolled your eyes.

“I know--I know weed doesn’t go in the fridge.”

“Just the no drug policy,” he nodded.

“Right. Am I forgetting anything?”

He shifted his weight on his feet and shrugged his shoulders, a subtle shake of his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” you nodded, one final look around the room to make sure he had what he needed. His duffle bag was already in the corner, you’d told Jeff to put it upstairs and out of the way so CeCe and Maeve didn’t get nosy.

“I just have a question actually, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah?”

“When did you move in here?”

“Uh, beginning of August, so like, almost a month ago.”

He nodded, his eyes curious despite the fact that he didn’t ask more.

“We had to put my dad in hospice, I was looking for a place anyway after,” a quick motion over your shoulder to gesture to the girls. “My divorce, so--a lot of change, but it’s been nice to be home.”

He nodded thoughtfully, the quiet of the bedroom suddenly felt heavy. “S’a beautiful house.”

“Thank you,” you looked around the room again, if only to put your eyes somewhere other than his face. “I felt shitty about redecorating it at first, but--it was a little too much of a 70s bachelor pad.”

“Leave it to Walt,” he joked.

That piqued your interest. “Did you know my dad? Like, did you spend any time with him?”

He pushed his lips out in thought but shook his head when he sat down on the bed. “Not really--met him a few times at events with Jeff, but I never spent any quality time with him.”

You nodded--he was a busy guy, popular and well respected in his industry. “He was a good person, good grandfather, too.”

Harry smiled at that. “Always heard that Irv was the balls but your dad was the heart.”

You laughed, scrunched your nose at the saying you’d heard a hundred times. The two of them were partners in crime, two peas in a pod, yet they couldn’t be more different. He spoke again before you could reply, voice soft in the sleepy house.

“I mean, if you're his daughter he obviously did something right.”

He held your gaze just long enough for you to feel something, something you pushed out of your mind so quickly that your hand was on the door knob before he could even say goodnight.

Two weeks, tops.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

tag list: @sunflowerryvol6 @trulymadlykiki @kaybee87 @thurhomish @tpwkhoney @70s-harry @la-cey @sing-me-a-song-harry @morethanamelodyy @theresnooneheretosave @ihearthemcallingforyou @sunfloweratheart @g0bl1nqueen @millennial-teenybopper @rainbowparadiseharry @justsaying20 @andwhenshesays @harryinsweatersandbandanas @harrys-cherriesss @harrys-cherrry @cronias13 @burberryharold @15christyxoxo @dayxoxodreamer @stepping-into-the-light @mvaldez7821 @barnestann @styles217 @fineelineee @ursamajor603 @tayrenea @hayyyayy @mellamolayla @lovelylemonadeaddict @harrystyle-ish @harryspirate @apples2019 @goldeng1rl8 @rainbowbutterflyboy

519 notes · View notes

helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Going Mining (Adrenaline Junkie Part 2)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, OOC sbi

Word count: 2,582

It had been about a year since you told your family about your tendencies. Since then, you quickly became efficient in the art of redstone wiring. The precious dust became your saving grace in a way, it was because of it that you stopped skydiving. Of course, you missed the feeling you got when you got close to the ground going at mach speed, but they were just intrusive thoughts at this point; you didn’t make any move to fulfill your desire. Redstone wiring took your mind off from it.

Lately, you spent most of your time in the basement where you set up your workshop to craft most of your supplies and write out blueprints. You were working on finding out a way to somehow launch TNT to make igniting it safer. You figured out that you could use a dispenser to plant the TNT, repeaters to prolong the time the TNT gets placed, a button to press to initiate the whole process, and use redstone dust to connect everything together. Now you have a working TNT launcher, but you have to find a block to use as a wall to protect the user from the shockwave of the explosion. You found out the hard way that the shockwave is enough to knock you back a few feet and give you small burns.

You reached over for more iron to make another repeater, but your hand came up empty. You furrowed your brows as your hand patted around the chest before finally looking over to look more closely. The chest was completely empty. You groaned in frustration, you could’ve sworn that you had more iron to work with. Looks like you had to go mining again. Sighing as you checked your redstone dust supplies, you supposed that you could look for more of that too.

Prying your goggles off from your eyes and placing them on your crafting table, you checked the time. It was almost sunset, which means it’s close to dinner time. You walked up the stairs and to the kitchen, where Philza was cooking dinner.

Sitting down at the dinner table, you greeted him. “Hey Dad, what’s for dinner tonight?”

“Steak and baked potatoes. How’s the TNT launcher coming up?”

“It’s coming along. At this point, I just need to figure out what block I could use as a wall to block the shockwave and how many repeaters I need.”

You remembered earlier today when you got the unexpected knockback in your backyard where you were building the launcher. Philza got used to the constant explosions, so he wasn’t phased when the explosion was louder than usual. He just thought you were using more TNT than usual, so he just resumed chopping wood. Soon after the explosion, he heard a thud and a groan coming from you. When he glanced in your direction, he saw you laying in the grass a few feet from the launcher. He chided you for not being careful with how much TNT you used, but he was proud of you for being so innovative. After giving you a health potion for your burns you got, he told you that you were done building for the day.

He hummed thoughtfully as he flipped a steak. “Have you thought about using obsidian? It’s pretty durable and it could withstand quite a bit of damage.”

You slapped a hand to your forehead. Why didn’t you think about using obsidian? Most TNT technicians used obsidian to shield them.

“...No, no I haven’t. You don’t suppose that we have any laying around?”

“I’m sorry hun, but we don’t. I could go mining for some though.”

“No that’s fine, I was actually going to find a cave tomorrow to restock on iron and redstone. I’m running low.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll lend you my diamond pickaxe. The iron pickaxe you have won’t mine through obsidian. Dinner’s almost done, can you go get your brothers?”

“On it!”

You ran up the stairs, hearing the strumming of a guitar growing louder as you approached Wilbur’s room. Knocking loud enough for him to hear over the guitar, the strumming stopped and he called out a “come in”.

Opening the door, you smiled at him. “Hey Wil. Dad wanted me to tell you dinner’s almost ready. That new song sounds great by the way.”

He put his precious guitar back into its case on his bed as he turned around and returned your smile.

“Thanks (y/n). Tell him that I’ll be down in a moment.”

Nodding, you closed his door and went across the hall to Techno’s room. Before you could knock, the door swung open to reveal your oldest brother.

“I heard you tell Wilbur dinner’s ready. I’ll see you there.”

You stepped aside to let him into the hall and started to walk to Tommy’s room. You swung open his door and chuckled lightly as he jumped.

“Hey gremlin. Dinner’s ready.”

“How come you knock on Wilbur’s and The Blade’s door but not mine? I could’ve been naked!”

“You do the same thing to me. Techno and Wil knock on my door, so I knock on theirs. Now, get down to the dining room before your food gets cold.”

He stood up to his full height and casually walked over to you. In the past year he has grown to be almost 8 inches taller than you and he didn’t show any signs of stopping any time soon. To your surprise, he shoved you to the side and sprinted out of his room.

“LAST ONE TO THE DINING ROOM HAS TO DO THE DISHES TONIGHT!”

“NOT FAIR, YOU GOT A HEAD START.”

You sprinted after him, but he was ahead of you by time you passed your other brother’s rooms. By the time you got to the top of the stairs, he was halfway down them. There was only one way you’d win. You hauled yourself over the railing of the stairs and jumped, extending your wings to slow your descent. You swiftly regained your footing and sprinted towards the kitchen with desperation. You weren’t going to do the dishes when it was Tommy’s turn; it was your night last night. You laughed in an early celebration when you neared the door to the dining room. There was no way Tommy could possibly-

You yelped as you felt your body being pulled back and a slight pain in your wings. Tommy must’ve grabbed your wings. Falling on your ass, you quickly reached to grab Tommy’s ankle to bring him down on the ground with you. He landed on his stomach with a thud as you pulled him back as hard as you could. You crawled towards the dining room door, only to feel Tommy grabbing your wings again to pull you back. Wincing as you felt some feathers being yanked out, you cursed your wings for growing to be almost larger than your body and easy to grab. You slid across the ground as Tommy pulled you back and tried to crawl into the dining room. You reached out with your other wing and started battering his head to disorient him. It worked as he stopped and you felt him trying to swat your wing away so he could see. Making haste, you crawled into the dining room.

“OI THAT’S NOT FAIR. YOU STARTED HITTING ME.”

“All’s fair in love and war, gremlin. Besides, you pulled my wings first, so you technically started it. I wasn’t about to do the dishes for you.”

“I don’t know why you are the one calling me gremlin, you’re short as hell.”

“Oi, 5’2 is average height! You all are just way too tall!”

Despite you and Tommy arguing, you both were giggling and smiling at each other. The rest of your family watched you two in amusement for a couple of minutes before Philza spoke up.

“Alright you two, dinner’s gonna get cold if you keep it up. Tommy, (y/n) won fair and square. You will also pick up the feathers you plucked out after dinner. (Y/n), don’t jump over the railing again. I understand that you can fly but still that’s dangerous.”

You both murmured “yes, Dad” before taking your seats at the table. As the dinner progressed, everyone had small side conversations about how their days were. Dinner went by faster than usual, probably because everyone was tired.

Tommy grumbled to himself as he picked up the feathers on the ground. Taking pity on him, you picked up everyone’s dishes and took them to the kitchen sink and filled it up with soapy water for Tommy. You washed and dried them by time he got done picking up your feathers. He was an annoying little gremlin, but he was your little annoying gremlin. You loved your little brother.

“...Thanks for helping me. You didn’t have to do the dishes.”

“It’s not a problem, Tommy. You already had to pick up my feathers. Er, sorry for hitting you with my wings, that probably hurt.”

He chuckled, rubbing his head. “It kinda hurt, but I deserved it for pulling out your feathers.”

You moved your wing in front of you to examine it. Only a few secondary feathers were missing, it was probably mostly your semiplume feathers he pulled out.

“You didn’t do too much damage, no worries. I’m going mining tomorrow, is there anything you need me to pick up?”

His eyes lit up. “If you find a diamond, give it to me. My jukebox broke today.”

“I gotchu. It’s getting pretty late, T. We should go to bed.”

You gestured for Tommy to follow as you started to walk back into the dining room and into the kitchen. You two made comfortable small talk as you walked back to your rooms for the night. After changing into your pajamas, you plopped onto your bed and buried yourself in your sheets. You struggled to cover your wings before giving up and leaving them to droop off the side of your bed. You really needed to ask Philza how he covered his wings, they were larger than yours so he probably had a little technique he uses.

Having wings kinda sucked sometimes. Besides not being able to cover them with a blanket easily, they didn’t fit on your bed if you wanted to stretch them out to their full length. When you were younger, your wings always fit on your bed and you would always keep them covered. But now with your wingspan being longer than your height, they were a pain to manage, especially at night. You always had to either sleep on your stomach or side and you couldn’t roll over without pulling a muscle in your wing. Because of this, it usually took you a little longer than most to fall asleep.

Your blissful slumber was interrupted by the light peeking in through your curtains. Sitting up, you stretched out your wings, smiling in satisfaction when you heard them crack. You stood up and grabbed your clothes for the day. Since you usually woke up a little earlier than your brothers, you always got first dibs on the shower after Philza. You yawned tiredly as you flicked on the water faucet and stepped into the shower. Now slightly more awake, you stepped out and started to preen your wings. Another downside to having wings is how high maintenance they are.

After taking care of the rest of your morning routine, you went down to the kitchen where Philza was sitting at the table drinking some coffee looking as dead inside as ever.

“Mornin’ Dad.”

He grunted in response. He was never a morning person, even after adopting four kids. You walked over to the chest where the food is kept and pulled out some eggs, bread, and beef. Usually, you made breakfast while Philza made dinner. You hummed a small tune as you flipped the eggs and turned over the beef sausages. One by one, your brothers joined Philza at the table and waited while you cooked.

You grabbed four plates and sets of silverware from the cabinets and put on an appropriate amount of food on each, placing them in front of your siblings and dad. You grabbed your own before joining them at the table.

“So, I’m going mining today. Is there anything you guys want me to get?”

They all chimed in with their needs. Philza wanted you to grab more iron and diamonds, Techno wanted some gold, Wilbur didn’t ask for anything, and you already knew what Tommy wanted. It sounded easy enough.

While the boys wrapped up breakfast, you excused yourself from the table and went back to your room to grab your satchel, pocket watch, iron pickaxe, and iron sword. Walking back downstairs, Philza gave you the supplies you would need today: a diamond pickaxe and a plethora of torches. “No staying out past sunset. Don’t mine down. Stay aware of your surroundings. If you see a mob, do not try to fight it, just try to run. If you get hurt, come straight home. If you get lost, follow the torches.”

“You worry about us too much.”

He sighed as he pulled you into a hug. “I just want you to be safe, hun.”

You smiled as you hugged him back and wrapped your wings around him. “I know, Dad. I’ll be safe, promise.”

“You better, or else you’re grounded,” he joked.

You chuckled as you pulled away and said goodbye to your brothers for the day. Heading out into the brisk morning, you took in a deep breath and smiled to yourself. You had a feeling that this mining trip was going to be bountiful. You spread your wings and took off into the sky.

Flying for a while, you spotted an opening in the ground. Grinning, you gradually landed before walking into the cave.

You spent hours mining precious ores, working your way deeper and deeper into the cave. You still had at least five hours before you had to start heading back to the house, so you thought going deeper wasn’t going to hurt anybody.

You hummed to yourself as you passed multiple stalagmites. This cave was seemingly never ending, you’d have to mark it on your map so you could come back to it. The mouth of the cave kept getting larger and larger until it melded into a huge, winding cavern. You’ve never been this deep before, so you were excited to explore. Being mindful of placing down torches, you explored the cavern before you came across a strange looking block you’ve never seen before.

It glowed a luminescent green as weird looking projections (tentacles maybe? Was this thing alive?) flailed about before they fell into a relaxed movement and stopped glowing. Reaching out to poke it, you cringed as it felt weirdly moist and it made a slight squelching noise. It flailed about again as it glowed. You saw movement in the corner of your eye and turned to see another one of the blocks doing the same thing. How weird.

Suddenly, the nearby lights started to flicker on and off, even your torches, as you heard a rhythmic thudding sound bounce off the walls of the cave. The thudding got louder and louder gradually as you frantically looked around for whatever it was and pulled out your sword. Hearing movement from behind you, you turned around only to freeze in fear.

What the fuck was that?

#sbi x reader #sibling reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #platonic #mcyt x reader #tw: swearing

818 notes · View notes