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wheeboo · 9 days

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mine | joshua hong

SYNOPSIS. in which joshua is the best thing that's ever been... yours. PAIRING. joshua hong x gn!reader (ft. cheol, jeonghan, soonyoung, mingyu, chan - they don't rlly have dialogue tho lol) GENRE. fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, established relationship WARNINGS. a very very brief shirtless joshua moment LMAO, implications of reader having a toxic ex, mentions that reader's parents have a rocky relationship and separate, kissing, terms of endearment, reader and joshua have a lil argument WORD COUNT. 3.6k

requested from @staranghae: joshua + mine by taylor swift for the 2k followers event please 🩷🎀

notes: i am fluent in this song!!!! whenever my love playlist comes on and this plays i literally scream lungs out!!! and shua fits this vibe so much <3

join the 2k celebration!

ONE. "i was a flight risk, with a fear of falling / wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts..."

Maybe you've always underestimated how the feeling of fresh air hitting your lungs makes you feel so replenished, free, like a single whiff blows away those gusts of worry in an instant.

Your fingers carry a tight, secure grip on Seungcheol's surfboard𑁋you volunteered to carry it for him so he could unload the other things from the van𑁋soft sand meeting your toes the second you step onto the beach for the first time of the summer season. Salty air tingles at your nose, the late afternoon sun baring down on your shoulders, and the expanse of the ocean opens up right before your eyes.

This place had basically watched you grow up. It carries a lot of memories that you hold dear to your heart.

You see Soonyoung already digging into the sand with an abnormally large stick, and Mingyu carrying a bunch of firewood in his arms before dropping them down onto the ground (and accidentally one on his foot, but you won't say anything about that).

However, your eyes drift and land on a figure running up from the beach shore. His dark hair is wet and sticking to his forehead, chest and arms revealed in all its glory before quickly covered up by a white, somewhat lacy button-down shirt that still doesn't do much in concealing the muscles underneath. For a moment, you nearly loose the grip on Seungcheol's surfboard.

Joshua Hong seems to spot you from even a mile away. He's running up to you before you even have the minute to breathe, a grin splitting his face that's as warm as the setting sun. Sand clings to his damp flip-flops and the hem of his black shorts as he nearly skids to a halt in front of you, chest heaving and out of breath. His shirt isn't even buttoned, dammit.

"Hey," he greets you breathlessly, letting his eyes take you in for a second. "Glad you could make it."

A soft smile of your own blooms on your face. "It's good to see you too, asshole."

A flicker of feigned hurt plays across Joshua's features. "Come on. That was so two years ago! I didn't want to push you in the water. You should know that by now."

"Wow, you care so much about me, don't you?" You nearly swing Seungcheol's surfboard playfully in his direction. "You listen to Jeonghan more than your own little brain."

"I swear, it's changed. Everything's changed since then," Joshua reasons lightly. "You have my ears for the entire night, I promise."

His words hang in the air for a moment, and there's perhaps a sliver of fondness in his eyes that you catch when your gazes meet. You feel a certain warmth spread through your chest that you try so hard to ignore each time he's around you.

You brush it off with a roll of your eyes before strolling past him, hoping that Seungcheol's surfboard was enough to cover up the slight flush creeping up your cheeks. The smile to your face still lingers as you walk towards to where Soonyoung and Mingyu are, whom dash up to you the moment they see you to engulf you in a welcoming hug.

Mingyu is almost done setting up the bonfire by the time you and Seungcheol bring all the food and supplies from the van. Jeonghan and Chan had arrived by the time the fire is lit up and crackling, casting a warm, inviting glow on the beach scene. And it isn't long when the yearly traditions of a group bonfire and beachside barbecue commence.

The smell of grilled food fills the air, mixing with the salty breeze and the crackle of the fire. And just for those moments, you forget these fuzzy feelings swirling around you as familiar laughter and camaraderie take over instead.

You've known all of your friends for different amounts of times, but being here with all of them makes it feel like time hasn't passed by at all. Inside jokes are exchanged, memories from as far as childhood resurface, and stories are told that leave you all doubled over with laughter (and Soonyoung nearly choking on a marshmallow).

It's almost natural in the way your eyes seem to search for Joshua's every single time that feeling of happiness threatens to overflow within you. The fire flickers upon his face, his eyes crinkled deeply when he smiles. Happiness looks good on him, you think. It always has.

...does his eyes search for yours too?

By the time the fire dies down, you find yourself sitting near the edge of the beach, with your legs stretched on the sand and the waves barely lapping against your feet. Seungcheol and Mingyu are already out on the ocean on their surfboards, then there's Chan and Soonyoung struggling to get their sandcastle to stay up, and Jeonghan is already knocked out on a beach towel. It's just you, and wherever the hell Joshua is.

"Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

The voice snaps you away from your thoughts, and you pick your head up to see Joshua walking up to you. A cool breeze flows through his strands of his hair as he approaches.

You blink at him. "What?"

He sits down beside you on the sand, close enough that the warmth of his body brushes against yours. "You were too quiet earlier."

You face back towards the water, cowering your head down as if guilty of some sorts.

"Oh," You murmur, somewhat to yourself. "Sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Joshua asks, nudging you lightly on the shoulder. "I told you earlier that I would be all ears for you."

You smile faintly at that. Would you still be all ears if I told you that I've been such a coward with my feelings for you?

"It's... just boy problems, I guess," You respond, though you feel a twinge of regret for wording it like that. It's more than just simply boy problems.

Joshua's jaw seems to tighten at that. "Did that jerk contact you again?"

You know who exactly he's talking about, and you let out a sigh. "No, not him. I... I blocked him a few months ago when he tried spam calling me again. Sort of gave me a good scare, to be honest."

At the corner of your eye, Joshua's hand digs aimlessly into the sand, clenching and unclenching a fistful before smoothing it out again.

"I'm glad you're okay," he says softly, gaze fixed on the grains of sand slipping through his fingers. "You deserve someone way better than him."

You chuckle at that, and a bittersweet pang shoots through your chest. It's true, you deserve better. But really, the problem isn't just jerks and bad relationships. It's the thought of falling for someone again and it all comes crashing down... again.

But it's not like you could hold back from falling when you've already fallen. The truth is undeniable at this point𑁋your heart already beats a little faster for the boy right next to you.

"Guys! Look at the sunset!" Chan's voice rings out into the cool, evening air, pointing an excited finger towards the horizon.

Simultaneously, you and Joshua bring your eyes up tot the sky together. The last rays of the sun are painting the sky in a breathtaking display of fiery oranges, pinks, and purples, like a fleeting masterpiece before nightfall takes hold.

"Wow," You mutter out in awe. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Joshua cocks his head to the side, a low hum leaving his lips. "Hmm, I could think of something more beautiful than that, honestly."

You scoff, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "You ruined the sentimental moment, idiot."

Joshua lets out an amused laugh, a sound that sends those flutters blossoming in your stomach, one you haven't realised you've missed until this very moment. A small giggle of your own escapes your mouth as you bring your eyes back to the sunset together.

Then a low yawn stifles out of you. Maybe everything that has happened the past few hours are finally catching up to you. You let out another yawn, hoping Joshua doesn't notice. But of course, he does.

"Getting tired?" he asks you.

You give a small nod. "Just a little."

A few moment pass, before you feel an arm drape casually over your shoulders. The scent of Joshua and his warmth seeps within your bones. You almost want to protest, but the words get caught in your throat, and you lean your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

Perhaps you could spend a long time staying in this position and hope the silence is able to spill all the words you've been meaning to say for all this time, but you know it's easier said than done. Because what's the point of confessing anymore if you know it won't ever last? That you know it'll ruin everything you've built up to get this far?

You've seen it happen around you𑁋with you, your parents, hell even strangers online. It's taught you nothing but to run. That's what your mind tells you to do, but not your heart. And maybe you listen to your mind more often than not.

"Yo, Josh!" Mingyu's voice hollers out from the ocean, and you feel a certain pressure be lifted up from your head (when did he lay his head on yours?) as you catch the sight of Seungcheol and Mingyu motioning to their surfboards. "Wanna hop on?"

Joshua briefly glances down at you, and you meet his gaze, seeing the indecision in his features.

"I don't mind," You tell him. "I'll be fine here."

He hesitates. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me." You pick your head off from his shoulders. "Go have your boy-fun."

Joshua gives you a small smile, though there's a hint of reluctance in his expression. He shouts back to Mingyu and Seungcheol before standing up and brushing the sand off his shorts. You could hardly pull your eyes away from him as he does so.

He starts trotting away as you face back toward the ocean with a sigh, relinquishing the moments you get to have to gather up your thoughts.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You pick your eyes back up to Joshua marching back towards you. He stops in front of you, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You look beautiful today, by the way." Then he gives shoots you a wink before turning back around. "Just wanted you to know."

The kiss you leave to his cheek later on was really worth the risk.

TWO. "you learn my secrets and you figure out why i'm guarded / you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes..."

A picture frame of a four-year-old Joshua is staring back at you. He still has that same silly grin on his face, the one that has his own eyes smiling as well and makes your heart feel lighter every time you look at it. You reach out to touch the frame, tracing the outline of his little face with your fingertip.

Sometimes, you wish you could experience what he was like at this time𑁋to grow up with him, to know what exactly led him to meeting you. But then again, he's already here with you now, and maybe that's all that matters.

"All ready for bed?" Joshua's voice popping in makes you swiftly place back the picture frame back on his desk. You turn around to see him leaning against the doorway with a soft smile playing on his lips, clad with a simple white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Mhm," You hum out in response as you settle back under the covers of his bed.

It isn't the first night you've spent with him at his place, but you seem to seek the feeling of his comfort more often than sleeping in your own bed. Jeonghan has been kind of nagging you the two of you to move in together at this point, but that's a leap you're a bit hesitant to jump right now. But the drawer of your own clothes in his wardrobe is a bit of an argument that's hard to defend.

Joshua crawls his way into the spot right next to you, slipping under the duvet and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you more into his embrace. You feel his breath meet the nape of your neck, warm and soothing against your skin, and your eyes flutter to the feeling.

You shift your position so that you're facing him. His eyes are already closed, lips pursed up slightly, and even then he still looks absolutely stunning. But you know he isn't asleep. Not yet, at least.

"My parents had uh... another argument today," You confess lowly, hesitantly.

Joshua's eyes open up slightly, adjusting his head so he can look at you better. A faint crease of concern appears between his brows, the arm around you tightening imperceptibly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You bite at your bottom lip anxiously. There are times you feel as if the only thing that could get you talking is always something revolving your parents, and you wonder if Joshua ever gets tired hearing about all of it. The thought courses insecurity to crawl in your veins, tightening your throat.

But Joshua's patient gaze towards you cuts through the uncertainty bubbling in your chest.

"Just same old, same old, you know?" You attempt to explain. "It just feels like they can't see eye-to-eye anymore. There's like... I don't know... nothing left between them, I guess. And it scares me that... it'll happen to us."

The last sentence suspends thickly into the air. Even then, you know it's more than the truth𑁋you've grown up witnessing and overhearing arguments from your parents that laid down this pessimistic view on the world around you.

You could feel your heart racing from all the anticipation. There's a wave of emotions that washes over Joshua's face, then he takes a deep breath and squeezes you tighter in his hold.

"Hey," he mutters. "Look at me."

You hesitantly meet his eyes.

"We're not like them, okay?" he assures you simply, bringing his hand up to cup your face oh-so gently in his hold. "We may argue sometimes. But the difference is, we communicate. We listen to each other. And we may not have all the answers to everything, but we'll figure it out together, alright?"

You swear you can feel the way he's holding your face also on your heart, like he's protecting you in a way from any doubts that might creep in. A small sigh escapes you, the tension leaving your shoulders as his words wrap around you comfortingly. The faintest, appreciative curve appears to your lips as you feel Joshua's thumb brush against your cheek.

He dreamily smiles at you as well, despite his face being half-buried in the pillow. And the thought of being able to wake up to this sight every single day suddenly feels a lot less like a leap and a whole lot more like a promise.

Somehow, the gap between the two of you disappears as your lips meets his. He kisses you so tenderly, mouth moving against yours with a delicate urgency, and the tiny sound that leaves you brings that smirk you could feel forming on his face.

You feel almost dizzy when you pull away, nothing but a shy look gracing over your features.

"Feeling better?" Joshua asks softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

You could only gaze at him, wondering to yourself how he's even in real, how someone like him could exist with his sleepy smile, messy hair, and perfect features carved by the angels above, yet cherish you so dearly.

"Can you..." Your eyes flicker from eyes to his lips. "Can you... keep kissing me?"

It feels really silly to ask that, however Joshua just chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest as he peers at you with nothing but adoration.

"Of course," he replies, leaning back in. "Whatever you want."

THREE. "braced myself for the goodbye, 'cause that's all I've ever known / then you took me by surprise / you said, 'I'll never leave you alone...'"

The tears streaming down your face burns through the concrete below like acid.

"Y/N, wait𑁋"

"I told you that I-I can't do this right now."

The leaves crunching at your feet echo in your ears as you walk away from Joshua, each step feeling heavier than the last. It's around two in the morning or something, and you can't remember the last time you felt this lost and broken ever since your parents' separation. It's like the ground beneath you has crumbled away, leaving you suspended in midair, grasping for something𑁋just anything𑁋to hold onto.

You've been here before, standing at the edge of this cliff of vulnerability. It's easier to leave before you get left, easier to build walls than to let someone in only to watch them walk away.

But you've come to understand that Joshua isn't one to give up easily. He catches up to you quickly, his hand gently grasping your arm to stop you in your tracks. You try to shrug him off, but his grip only tightens slightly as he turns you around to face him.

"Talk to me," he pleads insistently, and the subtle tremble to his voice has your chest clenching. "If you're just going to keep pushing me away, then𑁋"

"Then leave." The words leave you before you can stop them, fueled by the ache in your chest and the fear in your heart. "You don't have to stay with me when all I-I do is push you away. Don't you think you deserve someone better?"

Joshua's grip on your arm loosens at your words, but it doesn't fall. His eyes scan over your tear-stained face, the quiver to your lips, and all of it has you bracing yourself for the inevitable, final blow𑁋for him to turn and walk away like so many others before him.

But instead, he just steps closer to you.

"This isn't about me staying because I have to, Y/N," he explains. "It's about me wanting to stay because I love you. I knew what I was getting into the second I realised I was falling for you. So no, I'm not going to leave you. And I'll never leave you alone because I know you're worth fighting for."

Your breath catches in your throat, his words piercing through you like a bullet straight through the heart. Even Joshua appears out of breath himself, as if he's poured his own heart out to you in those few simple sentences. The silence stretches between the two of you.

With a quiet sigh and a faint smile, he lets the tension simmer down by trailing his eyes over you.

"When I look at you, I think... I think I fall in love with you all over again like the first time I saw you," Joshua admits shyly, followed by a sheepish chuckle to himself. "It's cheesy, I know. But I can't help it. It's hard not to look at you."

You feel the heat crawling up your face as you blink away your tears clumsily, peering up at him inquisitively. "Really?"

This just draws another laugh from him. Joshua steps closer to you, trailing a hand to cup your face and the other to slide to your back to shorten the gap between the two of you even more. He places a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulls back slightly to meet your gaze.

"Really," he confirms, voice gentle yet firm. "I meant every word I said, darling."

This brings a genuine smile to your face as if it was the first one that night. You instinctively lean more into Joshua's touch, letting your eyes close for a moment to the simple feeling of him holding you.

"I'm sorry," You mumble, voice barely above a whisper. "for pushing you away like that. It's just... I'm scared."

Joshua takes one of your hands into his own to bring up to his lips, pressing a reassuring kiss to your knuckles.

"It's okay," he assures you. "We can be scared together."

FOUR. "do you believe it? / we're gonna make it now / and i can see it / i can see it now."

A pair of arms snake around your waist from behind, the relaxing melody of a piano floating through the air of the kitchen. You take in a deep breath, leaning back into Joshua's embrace as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"Smells amazing, honey," Joshua murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You smile contentedly, feeling the peace of the moment wash over the two of you. The enticing smells of the pasta you were cooking waft around the kitchen, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs, garlic, and Joshua's presence right behind you.

"It should be ready soon," You say, clutching the wooden spoon in your hands to give the sauce a final stir.

Joshua's eyes arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer as he sways gently to the music. You hear the sounds of his hums hit your ears as you turn to the heat off to the stove. And as you attempt to pull away from him to grab for some plates, Joshua's grip on your waist hardly budges.

You groan exaggeratedly. "Shua, I need to𑁋"

"Marry me."

You freeze immediately, and you swear time halted right at that moment. Turning around in his hold, you're met with the sight of Joshua's eyes on you. You try to pinpoint any doubt in them, any sign that this is some sort of joke, but his gaze remains unwavering, dark eyes serious yet painted with a shine of hope that tugs right at the strings of your heart and the walls of your hesitation.

There's always that fear gnawing at in the back of your mind. But beneath it all, a warmth spreads through your chest, a certainty that feels as natural as breathing.

And perhaps, you see nothing but forever in him.

You can see it in the way his eyes soften, in the way his hand trembles anxiously against your waist, in the way his lips part ever so slightly as he waits for your response. You can see it all in him. You've made it.

You kiss him just seconds later. It's a question your heart has already answered long before the words left Joshua's lips. You lean more into his touch, feeling your heart overflow past the brink of joy, and the feelings all melt together into the singular realisation that he's the best thing that's ever been yours.

When the two of you finally break away, a single word escapes your lips, "Yes."

another note: sorry this ending was slightly rushed T-T

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @tanya596carat @starshuas @totomoshi

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sunkissedchld · 4 months

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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

the piles go from left to right. therefore, pile one has the silver airpods, pile two is the pink cord phone, and so on and so forth.

take your time to use your intuition to choose the pile that will best resonate with you. lastly, please don't be afraid to say if the message resonated or not; it helps me in determining if my interpretations are correct or not, and i appreciate any sort of feedback - even if it's "bad".

this PAC is a collab with @icanseethefuture333, so be sure to check out their post also!

good luck to you, reader 🌷

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

Signs:

"i don't forgive you", harboring anger towards someone, heavy fire (aries, leo, sagittarius) in birth chart, red, passion, danger, hera, broken marriages/family, non-committal, metatron, spiritual power, turtles, tigers, turkeys. broken headphones, "you're not listening"

Shufflemancy:

"Montero (Call Me By Your Name)" by Lil Nas X

"Another One Bites the Dust" by Queen

"Blow Us All Away" from Hamilton the Musical

"Intro" by J. Cole

"Angels We Have Heard on High" by Pentatonix

"Sorry, I Love You" by Stray Kids

Cards:

Four of Cups, Knight of Cups (Rx), Six of Swords (Rx), Two of Wands, Five of Wands, Seven of Coins, The Fool (Rx), Turtle (Rx), Tiger, Turkey

Reading:

For those who chose pile one, one lesson you will encounter will be in regards to you seemingly sitting on the sidelines in life. At one point, you may feel disconnected and apathetic about life; you may think, "what's the point of doing what I'm doing if I'm not seeing any results for it." There will be times when people will try to help you enjoy life more instead of being moody and unhappy with what you're doing, but J. Cole says it best when he asks, "do you wanna be happy?". Someone might literally ask you that (or people have done so in the past), and you often say "no" without saying no by not taking action to be happy.

Those who chose this pile may have a lot of unresolved emotional baggage they refuse to acknowledge, but your lesson will be in recognizing that baggage and unloading it. You may have been resisting a transition period in your life for as long as possible, and in 2024 that won't be allowed anymore. Saying "no" to happiness will not be an option; you will be thrown into tackling your anger, former traumas, apathy about life, etc. head on. The only real thing you can decide at this point is whether or not you're going to plan for it now that you know it's coming or allow life to take you through it however ough that may be.

You will be pushed to be competitive about what it is you want. There may be a lot of conflict, and you may even feel jealous of others at one point; you may think, "why is it that my growth and transition is so much harder compared to everyone else's?". There may even be a point during the year where you feel as if you're guides or the universe or whoever/whatever you believe in isn't listening to you, but the truth is everyone experiences growing pains, and you have to figure out how to persevere and get over your fears the same way everyone else does. As stated before, refusing to grow and transition is not an option, but your attitude as you experience it is a choice you make; you can make it easier or harder on yourself by having an open mind.

This year, you will be going from being a turtle to a tiger. You will no longer be allowed to take your time in regards to things in your life that are keeping you from growing into someone who is healthier and happier: mentally, physically, emotionally, and everywhere else. You will be stepping into your own power and your attitude will determine if you step into it gracefully or not. Overall, your lesson will be in learning how to free yourself from your own chains.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

Signs:

"be free", the sun, heavy fixed sign energy, ceres, gemini, pluto, neptune, feeling disconnected from venus placement, having trouble speaking, 111, manifestations, "coming in", "i'm walking", "be realistic", mercedes, goose/geese

Shufflemancy:

“Love Like Woe” by The Ready Set

“One Step At a Time” by Jordin Sparks

“Are You That Somebody” by Aaliyah

“This World” by Ateez

“Can You Stand the Rain” by New Edition

“What Comes Next?” from Hamilton the Musical

Cards:

Eight of Coins (Rx), King of Swords (Rx), Five of Wands (Rx), The Hanged Man, King of Coins, Seven of Coins, The Sun, Fixed, Ceres, Sagittarius (Rx), 111, Mercury (Rx), Venus (Rx), Neptune, Pluto

Reading:

If you chose this pile, your lesson for the year deals with your self-worth and self-determination. “One Step At a Time” by Jordin Sparks seems to fit your energy best for this next year. It seems some of this energy may be lingering from last year also, but during 2024 you may feel as if you’re doing a lot of work but receiving no benefits from it. Eventually, this lack of success and recognition could wear on you, and you could wonder if what all you’re doing is even worth it. With your work, it could seem as if you do so much, but it’s just not quite enough to other people - even if you’re trying your absolute hardest. You could end up feeling unappreciated and as if you’re not advancing anywhere.

It seems someone could be turning people away from you. For some people, this is a literal person who you may get along with, but you don’t really confront them when it comes to what they’re doing. For others of you, this is the universe purposefully blocking things from you because you’re trying to speed up the time you get certain things, and it’s telling you, “this isn’t how that works”. Regardless, there is someone or something in a higher position keeping you from reaching the success you think you deserve. This conflict will frustrate you throughout the year, and it could prove difficult for you to deal with.

With the Hanged Man and Five of Wands (Rx), you’re being asked to compromise and re-think why you think you deserve recognition or success in a certain way. Is your reasoning valid or in good faith? Is your way really the only way you can gain what it is you’re wanting? Is what you’re wanting the best for you? I’m reminded of the meme (I guess is what it is) where a little girl is holding a small teddy bear or something, and Jesus is asking her to give it to Him, and she’s refusing, but the audience can see that He has an even bigger teddy bear for her; I feel like this will represent how your success for this year will be. You may have one view of how you want it, but that result keeps getting pushed back or thwarted because you’re thinking too small.

The action of patience will be your most important lesson this year. “Can You Stand the Rain” fits really well for this closing part of the reading. You will be learning how to wither the storm of seemingly being overlooked and having your ideas of abundance not being given to you how and when you want in exchange for even better and more success to meet you at the end. As is always said, “patience is a virtue”.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Signs:

222, swan, itchy left palm, losing items, “i’m so sorry”, prominent sagittarius and/or gemini placements, heavy mutable energy, neptune dominant or many aspects to neptune, ducks, water, lust for nostalgia, being lost in your memories

Shufflemancy:

“In Love with Another Man” by Jazmine Sulllivan

“needy” by Ariana Grande

“Halazia” by Ateez

“Home” by Todrick Hall

“6 Foot 7 Foot” by Lil Wayne (feat. Corey Gunz)

“Put It On Da Floor Again” by Latto (feat. Cardi B)

Cards:

Queen of Cups (Rx), Six of Cups (Rx), Ace of Wands, Ten of Coins, The Sun, Six of Coins, The Emperor, Memories (Rx), Mutable (Rx), Sagittarius (Rx), Planetary Retrograde (Rx)

Reading:

For those choosing pile three, your lesson during the year will relate to you recognizing yourself more. Those who chose this pile may feel disconnected from their emotions or feel very emotionally drained last year and entering the new year. You may be very used to letting people utilize you in their lives however they want while when it comes to you needing people, they often are away or too busy to care about you. You could be prone to co-dependent relationships where you feel like you need to be needed or of help to someone and they to you, but you let them give you the bare minimum while you give your all.

Earlier, I thought you might be someone who doesn’t like remembering things or has a hard time with their memory, but it’s actually the opposite! You’re someone who loves to get lost in the past and what used to be; the song “Could’ve Been” by H.E.R feels relevant. For some reason the energy for this pile feels very connected to a relationship that you may miss during the year. It seems you will eventually come to the realization that you’re losing yourself to the past and recognize you need to garner up the willpower to keep going for the present. You will gain the energy to begin doing things for yourself instead of for the sake of pleasing others. You will be recognizing how important you are to yourself, and/or you will be building up that importance.

During this year, you will be building a new foundation where you do things for you. You will be focusing on your own growth and prioritizing self-care. You will learn how to put your happiness above other people's, which might be an issue you have been avoiding for a while. Rather than relying on others for emotional stability and to qualify your self-worth, you will likely end up doing a ton of introspection to discover what makes you happy solo. If you’re someone who is chronically in relationships, you may take a well-needed break in order to discover yourself like you’ve been putting off doing.

Overall, your lesson for the new year involves being your own rock so to speak. You will be learning how to set boundaries to protect yourself from people who are no good for you because they want to be like vampires in using you. Instead, you will focus on yourself and your ideals, wants, desires, and emotions. Your lesson this year will be learning how to focus on you.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

Signs:

having a lot of conjunctions in natal or solar return chart, heavy fixed energy, being born on a new moon, heavy uranus energy, “i don’t forgive you”, heavy fourth house placements and energy, “i don’t forgive you”, (oak) trees, miracles, unicorns

Shufflemancy:

“Focus” by Ariana Grande

“Hello” by J. Cole

“Lonely St.” by Stray Kids

“On It” by Jazmine Sullivan (feat. Ari Lennox)

“Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen

“New Money” by Leikeli47

Cards:

Ace of Cups, Four of Coins, The Devil, Temperance, Knight of Coins, King of Cups, Judgement, The Fool, Conjunction, Fixed, New Moon, Uranus, 4H, Trees, Miracles

Reading:

Those choosing this final pile, your lessons this year may relate to embracing new beginnings and a fresh start. For you, I’m reminded of all these rituals people are engaging in as we all enter the new year: eating black eyed peas, not washing clothes, having someone with money enter the house first, eating grapes under a table at midnight, and everything else. It seems you’re in the energy of “new year, new me”! With that, your lessons seem to relate to putting that quote to the test and seeing if you’re actually ready to embrace what comes with newness.

You could be losing things and people this year; maybe you fall out with certain people in your friend group, or you lose your job, or you graduate from school, or you’ll find a whole new group of friends. In general, the concept of not getting so attached to things or people to the point where you’re unwilling to separate from them comes to mind. Not that you can’t also develop strong attachments and relationships! But, when it’s time to let a situation or person go do not spend so much time trying to get them to stay. “When it’s time to go; it’s time to go”.

Do not become obsessive about things and people you come into contact with this year. The phrase, “there’s a time and season for everything” is very important! “Be flexible” is the best advice I could give for those reading this pile. Being flexible does not entail not working hard though; find a balance between being hardworking and putting in effort and also being open to change and loss. There is a major emphasis on balance and being in control when it comes to your emotions but also overall this year.

Overall, your lessons deal with being open to the change that comes with a new year and declaring that you’re ready for new things. You still need to put in work and go about life and strive to achieve what it is you want - in relationships, friendships, work, your daily life, and more, but you also need to be willing to let people and things go when the universe tells you they’re no longer serving or helping you. Truly, be open to the new beginnings you’re saying you want.

#tarot #oracle #pick a card #PAC #sunkissedchld #tarotblr #spotify #Spotify

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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 months

Text

Moving In

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: None

Summary: a short Drabble on you convincing Jason to move in with you

Word Count: 963

Your house was a haven for Jason. It was somewhere where he could lay down and forget all his troubles or simply sit in silence and not be overwhelmed by the life outside of your front doors. Despite the occasional complaints he hears from you about the woes of homeowning, he sees no flaw in your home. You were well off from your job, able to buy a nice home in the same area that Wayne Manor sat. It wasn’t intentional, you had been living in this home before you knew Jason, and through the years you had completed various renovations and upgrades to make it reflect you. There was a garden in the backyard filled with your favorite flowers, a sizeable kitchen where Jason likes to spend most of his time, sunlight poured through the floor to ceiling windows, and a few additional rooms catered to your interests were settled between the walls of the home. Convincing Jason to move in was not a hard thing to do. He hated living in an apartment and hearing his neighbors talk or walk around in the middle of the night when he was trying to sleep. You and Jason also found that it was a hazard climbing into the windows during the waking hours of dawn after patrol. A few close calls meant that most of the time when you were out on patrol, you two went back to your place to crash. It’s easy to say that he was delighted when you offered to let him move in after a long week of patrols gone south.

“You know, you should ditch the apartment, Jay.” You were laying on top of his chest, legs sprawled out over his and blankets nearly covering your face.

“Whatcha mean Doll?” He stopped combing his fingers through your hair and started twisting small loops into it with his fingers.

“Come live with me. You always talk about hating living in the city anyways and you sleep better there.”

“It would make patrols easier.” He commented, “You’re not delirious right, you’d actually want me to live at your place?” There was a tone of insecurity in his voice like at any moment you’d tell him you were joking.

“I am not delirious Jason.” You sat up and looked at him, “I have plenty of empty room that needs you to fill it.” “There’s plenty of room for your books in the library and you practically already live there. I’m pretty sure more than 60% of your things are already somewhere in the house.” “You could literally move in right now.”

“I would love to live with you.” He said smiling, “but I think we’d need to, you know, make sure everything is taken care of before I move out. My lease ends in a week and I’d need to pack everything up”

“We can get boxes tomorrow.” You said, “You can just start leaving things for the next week, plus, you don’t have to stay in the apartment even if your lease isn’t over.”

That was exactly a week ago and Jason was ready to move into your place. He pulled into the space in your garage that was meant for him with boxes loaded in the back of his car. There weren’t many boxes in his trunk, but he had a few odds and ends that he couldn’t send to Goodwill or throwing away. Most of the contents of the boxes were his books, some old mugs and pictures, the clothes that weren’t already in your house, hygiene stuff from his place, and other knickknacks he had around. After a few seconds of collecting his thoughts, he looked up to see you coming into the garage from the side door into your house with a smile.

You took his hand as he got out of the car and shut the door to walk to the trunk and start unloading. Taking a few boxes at a time, the two of you gradually unloaded everything and put it into the room connecting to the garage. It wasn’t going to take a long time for you two to unload everything, the most daunting thing to Jason was permanently invading your space. Taking the box filled with mugs, you opened the cabinet in the kitchen that kept all the mugs and started carefully putting them in like they were meant to be there.

“Hey doll, do you have a place you want all of this?” He asked timidly.

Usually moving in somewhere wasn’t a problem for him and he knew where everything was meant. He knew that you didn’t mind and just wanted him to be comfortable, but at the same time, Jason was afraid he would mess something up, make you regret letting him live with you.

“You know you can put stuff wherever. I mean obviously shampoo and conditioner belong in the bathroom and dishes in the kitchen but Jay, this is your home, I don’t mind.” You said comfortably.

Jason felt his heart swell at your words. This was his house now. You might have been there first, but you were telling him that this was allowed to be his home. Everything was perfect, nothing was popping Jason’s bubble now.

He set his stuff down and watched as you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. In a moment of silence, he ran his fingers through your hair and put his chin on the top of your head.

“I’m glad you’re here now.” You said softly, “I hated when you had to leave.” Jason held onto you tighter and lifted your chin with his finger, “I love you y/n/n. You’ve given me the best life I could have ever lived.”

“I love you too Jay.”

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader fluff #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood fluff #red hood imagine #jason todd imagine

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zanarkandskylines · 4 days

Text

listening to fortnight got me thinking about bakugo and reader having a very brief fling, something that happened in the past during their 20s, but stuck with both of them for years.

i touched you for only a fortnight i touched you, but i touched you

fast forward to living in the same city, the two of you now in your 30s and end up becoming neighbors by happenstance. you're both married to other people since you only talked in shared friend group settings after said fling.

all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february

you watch his wife water her flowers in the garden out back while making coffee in the kitchen every goddamn morning. you have no clue why it irks you so much, that the sight of her stupid smile makes you wanna punch her lights out.

occasionally, you run into bakugo at your mailboxes after a long day at work. small talk is the only thing you two can muster - a comment about the weather or harmless compliments about each other's appearance.

"sure rained like hell yesterday."

"nice sweater, your wife buy it for you?"

"god, it's too fucking hot today."

"that dress looks nice on ya."

one night, both of your spouses are away when a storm comes raging through the city. your power goes out, leaving you in the dark because your stupid husband forgot to replace the generator. from your windows, you see bakugo's household has power and decide to hightail it over for some company.

he answers the door with a confused look on his face. "the fuck you doin' in the rain? get in here!"

bakugo makes you a coffee to share with him in the kitchen, bullshitting through the night like you used to do as twenty somethings. it felt natural, your heart soaring as you watched him laugh and retell jokes from the past. when the conversation died down, you blurted out something you didn't plan to vocalize to anyone.

"i think my husband's cheating. sometimes i just wanna kill the bastard."

caught off guard by your admittance, bakugo quirks an eyebrow at you in response. "little extreme, but i'm sure that could be arranged."

"would be cheaper than a damn divorce. that asshole would take everything from me."

he snickers, taking another sip of his coffee. "think my wife's doin' the same. comes home late and shit, never can tell me why."

"how'd we get stuck with this shit luck?" you retort, forcing a laugh from your tightened chest.

"could be worse. we're neighbors, that's fuckin' lucky for me."

i love you...it's ruining my life.

"oh? i'm starting to think that's not a coincidence anymore."

bakugo sets his mug on the countertop, turning to face you while crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest.

"might'a convinced my wife to move here. thought maybe we could be friends again."

"so you bought a fucking house next to me instead of just calling to go to dinner?" you ask mockingly, a smirk on your face as you awaited his bullshit answer.

he shakes his head with a grin of his own. "sure did."

i love you...it's ruining my life.

"how come you never ask or invite me over then? we're literal neighbors, kats."

"pretty sure my wife's scared of ya. plus, i want time with you, not us."

that makes your heart skip a beat.

"hell of a way to say you miss me." you pause before setting your own cup down on the counter. "i'm glad you're here."

"me too."

right as he's approaching you, the front door swings open.

"babe, i'm home!" his wife calls, handful of shopping bags. she sees you standing in the kitchen aside bakugo - you give her a soft wave.

"oh, hi. i didn't expect company tonight."

"her dumbass husband forgot to replace their generator. just helpin' her out."

she gives him a glare, tilting her chin up at him, almost condescendingly, as she assesses his answer.

"how unfortunate. stay as long as you need, i'm gonna go put this away."

and with that, she leaves for their bedroom to unload her shopping haul. once she's out of earshot, you turn to bakugo and chuckle under your breath.

"oh yeah, she hates me."

bakugo rolls his eyes. "let her be miserable, it's her strong suit. come on, let's go take'a look at that generator."

the generator works just fine, you unplugged it before coming over.

you were curious if there was a spark leftover between you two, only to find the fire was not only stoked, but never fully extinguished.

blasty tags; @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon @starieq ✨

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugo x y/n #bakugo drabble #bakugo imagine #bakugou headcanons #bakugou drabble #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugou #☆.rei writes

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the-kr8tor · 1 month

Text

Sink or Swim II

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 13 II >>> CHAPTER 14

The air gets warmer as Collette giggles next to you. Arm in arm, John leads the way with a pout from the teasing his sister is throwing at him. Literally, she throws hazelnut shells at him. It sticks in his curls, he shakes his head as shavings of browns fall off like snowflakes.

“I am about to say a rude word,” he says through annoyance.

“Say it!” Collette giggles again, ragging on her brother.

“You f—” John pauses, the three of you stop right in front of the manor. “What's all this?”

A dozen or so carriages are parked up front, filled to the brim with flowers and crates upon crates of ingredients. The smell of saffron and citrus hits your senses. The staff busy themselves with unloading the supplies, frantic feet skedaddling in and out of the manor.

“Are we having a party?” you ask, tilting your head at a peculiar yellow spiky fruit.

“Guess so.” John scratches his head, “why didn't they take the back entrance?”

“Maybe they're in a hurry?” Co utters next to you, already leading you inside as you stare curiously at the weird fruit.

“It’s a pineapple, dear cousin. Come on, you'll miss breakfast.”

“Whatever this party is for, mother and father are going all out.” John sighs out, following close, dodging a staff member holding a tray with hundreds of plates stacked on it.

You have an idea on what this party is for, or who it's for. But you wish that's not the case.

Entering the dining room, your uncle sits at the head of the table, hands cradling his heavy head, groaning loudly at the noises just outside the room. Your aunt seems unbothered, eating her plate of fruit silently.

They don't look up when their children greet them both. They only nod in their seats, not even bothering to look at them. You feel bad for the siblings but they don't seem to be concerned by it at all.

“Sit next to me please!” Collette chirpily says, patting the seat next to her.

The dining room is huge, fitting well with the rest of the manor. Narra floors and numerous paintings adorn the old walls. The table is the longest one you've ever seen, strong mahogany standing the test of time.

As you sit down on the plush seat, your aunt spares you a pointed look. More than what she gave her own children.

“Where's Miguel?” You bravely ask above the silence. “And Lyla?”

Frederick rubs harshly at his face before staring you down with his hungover eyes. “Miguel went out on a walk. And who's the other one?”

“Nevermind.” You take a breath.

A man dressed impeccably in a fancy suit, stands next to you. He clears his throat, looking at you through his nose.

“How do you like your eggs…” he thinks for a moment. “...my lady?”

“Oh,” you're suddenly nervous as the whole table waits for your answer with bated breath. “What are my options?”

“Everything.” He flatly says, hands tucked behind his back.

John looks at you across the table, mouthing something. You don't understand what he's trying to say to you, it looks like he's trying to say ‘collette’ or ‘goblet’ by the looks of it.

You shake your head and say, “I'll have an omelette.”

“Very good, my lady.” He says as he walks out with measured steps.

John subtly gives you a thumbs up, and you have no idea why.

Frederick chokes on nothing. You think he's about to get sick but he chugs water before he can. He blinks rapidly like he's trying to wake himself up.

“Oh,” he says, only now noticing his own children in the room. “Where did you two go off to?”

“The birds, with Y/N.” John monotonously says while he stabs his egg.

“That time of the year huh? I haven't noticed.” Frederick’s words falter.

Collette clears her throat. “Y/N told us about her time at sea! She's very brave.”

“She got shot.” John continues for her with a proud smile.

In truth, you told them just the tip of the iceberg. Not even half of it, you spared all the important details of it, names of people and places, the cruelest parts of it and the crew you've come to see as family and him. You excluded him in the story because you promised to him a long time ago that you'll keep his and the crew's secrets. You intend to honour it until you're in the grave.

“Oh I've heard,” your aunt says in a stiff tone.

“You know I've once encountered pirates.” Frederick says whilst he picks at his fruit. “While I was sailing the hazelside ship, they were a rowdy lot. Rowdier than I am!” He exclaims, “in the end, father didn't pay for my ransom so they just brought me back to the docks after three weeks.” Chuckling, his face falls at the memory. “Well anyway, we have a ship gathering dust in the capital’s docks. She's a beut! You might appreciate her more, dear niece.”

You inhale sharply, tucking the information in the back of your mind. “What is she called?”

“The Osprey.”

“We've only been aboard once, and we didn't even sail!” Collette recalls. “Maybe you can sail it with us!”

John grins excitedly, “yes! That would be amazing!”

“No.” Their mother says before you could say anything. “It’s too dangerous. The waters are plagued by pirates and god knows what.” Her daughter’s face falls. “No.” she says for emphasis.

Your omelette arrives, the butler gives you a nod and your eyes almost bulge out of its sockets at how appetizing it is. The egg is fluffy, cooked to perfection with cheese melting inside. Vegetables and meat are tucked aplenty, you can't help but dig in immediately.

As you gorge yourself, the conversation has ceased. The noble family are eating quietly, no words exchanged, not even an awkward one. Not when their mother dearest glares at her pomegranate.

You finish off your omelette, and a bowl of pomegranate seeds is laid in front of you, replacing the finished plate. Remembering the last time you ate it, and how the juice ran down your arm as he ate next to you, as his warmth spread through you.

Now you're the one frowning at the fruit.

So instead of eating it, you rekindle the conversation. “Are we having a party?”

With your question, Frederick perks up at the mere mention of it. As if he's not suffering from a hangover, he claps his hands together, a grin spreading across his lips.

“Yes! The party, oh I almost forgot!” He beams at you. “It's for you, remember? Back at the palace?”

“I didn't know you were serious.” You chuckle nervously. A party full of aristocrats is the last thing you want or need.

“Oh, I'm at my most serious when I'm drunk!” He guffaws loudly, “we're introducing you to society! It has to be huge—!” Your uncle pauses, his eyes look behind you, his smile faltering slightly, mouth clamping shut.

“What's this about a party?” Miguel stands behind you, freshly pressed dress shirt tucked neatly inside his pants, hair damp and eyes fully rested. He's the exact opposite of you who hasn't rested a wink. Nodding a greeting at you, he places his hand on the back of your chair. “Sleep well?” He asks like he can't see the tiredness under your eyes.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod.

“Liar.” He winks at you teasingly. Turning towards your uncle, his face turns flat. “Frederick, what party?”

“Just a little get together, O’Hara, nothing fancy don't worry.” he chuckles, hiding from Miguel's stare behind his cup of tea.

Miguel grumbles, chest rumbling at the thought of you surrounded by strangers. Leaning down, he asks you politely. “May I speak with you?”

Looking at him in the corner of your eyes, you speak with a tone that Miguel could only describe as annoyance and with the exact same tone as an angry teenager who didn't get what she wanted.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Always, Y/N.”

“Hmm, of course I do.” You mockingly say. Standing up, you leave the table and the uneaten pomegranate. There's eyes on your back, it's better than knives.

Miguel leads you outside and into an empty sitting room. The entire room is purple, lilacs spread around the room from the settee to the curtains.

“What is it?” You swivel on your feet to turn to him with your arms crossed on your chest.

“A party?” He asks, exasperated.

“Hey, I'm not the one who planned this, Miguel.”

“I know you didn't.” Sighing, he plops himself down on the fluffy settee. “It's just bad timing. I can't be there tonight and the next day.”

You stare at him with wide eyes. “What? You can't leave me here. I just got here, and you promised.”

He's leaving you in the vultures’ den. Granted, your cousins are nicer than you thought they'd be, but you can't say for sure for your aunt and uncle; moreso for all the strangers that will visit tonight. Wrong timing is an understatement.

“I haven't been home in years, Y/N.” Miguel avoids your eyes, he doesn't see the fear in them. “I promised my staff that I'll be home for a couple of days to settle my estate and affairs. I haven't seen to any family matters in a long time. I haven't visited my daughter.”

You sit across from him on the coffee table. Elbows on your knees, ducking down to look at his downturned face.

“You'll be back?” You clearly distrust the man to a point, but he's the only person you know well enough in the entire estate. You don't want him to leave because what if he doesn't come back? What if the nobility eats you alive tonight?

He lifts his face to give you a soft smile, understanding your fear underneath your words. “I'll be back, I promise. I'll only be thirty minutes away, so if you really need to see me you can always get on horseback and come visit me within fifteen.” That eases you a bit. “Besides, I'm leaving Lyla with you, just in case. Mudwood manor is always open to you, Y/N.”

“Alright…just— what do I do? Tonight I mean?”

“Just smile and tell your stories. Feed them bullshit if you want to, just don't let their pompous asses get to you, hm?” He pats your bicep. “Can you survive a couple of days without me?”

“Yes, I think so.” You shrug shakily. “I’ll just tell them the story of how I almost got eaten by a sea monster. I'm sure that's interesting enough.”

Miguel laughs from the belly, the sound bouncing off the purple walls. “That's the kind of bullshit they'd eat up.”

“...sure, bullshit.” You clam up. “Just come back?”

“I'll be back, I promise. I'm not leaving you here alone. Your mother will haunt me to death if I do.” Smiling at you, he pats your head before standing back up. He walks towards the door, he turns back, grinning ear to ear. “I left a present for you in your room. I heard you didn't like the color last time. See you in a couple of days, Y/N.”

With a wave goodbye, he leaves the room. You groan audibly, putting your head in your hands, rubbing the heels of your palms on your eyes until little specks of dust appear in your vision.

You need sleep, maybe it's best that you do before you attend the shit show tonight.

—

Even with your protest, the handmaidens assigned to you scour you clean in the opulent tub. They scrub and scrub until you feel like your skin is about to fall off the bone.

Now clean and free of any grime, you smell like any rich noble could be— strong flowery scent from the numerous spritz of perfume and heavy citrus from the soap they used.

The stockings itches, the corset pinches, making you want to run and get naked in the woods instead. But after seeing the beautiful ruby red gown Miguel gifted you, you feel all the ache from the intense scrubbing fade away. Just a tiny bit anyway.

As you stand in front of the large mirror, you finally see your whole self. All lace and silver ribbons. All elegance and none of the person you once were. You suddenly feel like you're staring at a different person. Drowning in red, and jewels that would have fed you during the times you starved on the road.

“I look like a very large apple.” You say out loud. Your handmaidens stifle a giggle. The dress is so wide that you have to place your hands above it. If you sat down, the dress could probably eat you up.

The women bow at you, stopping them halfway with a frantic wave of your hands, they still do it. You don't blame them for it.

As they leave you alone in your room that makes you feel small, you admire the silver bangle in your arm. The accessory is in the shape of a bird, wings stretched around your wrist, face facing you, beak poking your skin slightly.

You suddenly have an idea when you feel for the pearl that you hid inside your corset. Fishing for it like you hid money down your bust, you take out the dark pearl. It still shines in the low light of the oil lamps. Taking a red thread your handmaids used to fix the fit of the sleeves better, and a pair of scissors, you craft a necklace made from the thread and the pearl.

Tying the thread around the dark pearl using the same knot that James and Hobie taught you, you finish it off by doing it twice around the pearl to secure it properly. Tugging and testing the strength of the three threads woven together, you gingerly tie it around your neck.

It sits prettily atop your clavicle next to your mother's golden necklace. You think it fits well together.

With a soft smile and a sob rising above your chest and a deep inhale, you close your eyes while patting the necklaces in one hand, and in the other, you feel for the dagger hidden inside your stockings.

You could cry but there's a sudden knock at your door. Lyla comes inside the room with a curious look. She whistles, ogling your form.

“I knew you look better in red, because christ, I think I'm falling for you, your grace.”

“Stop,” you look at her through the mirror. She wears a dark blue dress, lace adorning her front and sleeves. Silver stars placed around her neck and ears. “I could say the same for you, Lyla.” You tease back.

“Oho!” She saunters over to you, heels clacking on the polished floors. Placing her cool hands atop your bare shoulders, she coos, “our duchess knows how to flirt back. Guess you do learn everything from the streets.”

You roll your eyes, “I didn't learn that in the streets, Lyla.” Scoffing, you shove her hands off. “You just remind me of someone.”

“Aww,” she pouts. “And here I thought we had something.” Giving you her arm, she smiles genuinely at you. “Ready to wow them, Y/N?”

“God no.” You still take her arm.

—

There's a lot of people, a sea of finely dressed nobles clamoring to talk to you. Amidst the crowd gathering around you, there's a few of them who sneer and turn their heads away from you. They hold their drinks like it's about to shatter in their hands, grips strong and clearly annoyed at the newcomer, who in their minds is trespassing in their small circle of nobility.

You turn down numerous drinks since you want to be ready in case something happens. Or someone doing something they might regret once they see the steel of your dagger.

Miguel was right, entertaining them with stories gets their attention away from questioning you with unsavoury queries. After the sixth crowd hearing the ‘fake’ story of the sea monster, they've dwindled out, finding something else to entertain themselves with.

Lyla filters through the people who want to dance with you. She turns down every person she deems unworthy of your hand. Which is most of the people in the entire ballroom.

Underneath all the stuffiness of the event, the gorgeous ballroom is a pleasant surprise. The ancient walls are decorated with lit candles that dance with the music. There's flowers in every table and corner, it helps mask the scent of cigars filtering through the air. The music crescendos as the dancers in the middle finish off with a twirl and a hop. Their dresses whoosh and flap as they bounce, tulles swishing and heels clacking.

You sip at your glass of water, letting the ice inside cool you down. With the amount of people inside the ballroom, it's getting hard to breathe. You're glad that you planted yourself near the balcony where the breeze outside helps you from passing out from the warm air.

Shaking your now empty glass, the ice clinking inside, you huff. Lyla notices the sound and she promptly takes it from your hand before the condensation drips on your expensive dress.

“Be right back, don't move.” She says, wagging her finger at you.

“Wasn't planning on it.” you say above the loud chatter of the crowd and the music from the orchestra, but not loud enough for the people to notice you unattended.

But someone does notice, he comes walking towards you with wide strides and with a wide smile. He bares a striking resemblance to the king, ash blond hair perfectly coiffed, suit perfectly fitted to his broad form.

You don't notice him at first because you have been watching Colette dance circles around the crowd. Her lilac dress dances with her, the flowers in her hair adds to her beauty. John secretly keeps a watch on her too, he stands near the dessert table, mouth full of macaroons, hand occupied with a flute of champagne.

The stranger escapes your attention. With a tap on your elbow, you almost unsheathe your dagger at the man.

“I'm sorry,” he smiles politely. “Didn't mean to scare you, my lady.”

“Who are you?” You feel for the dagger with your hand above your dress.

“Viscount Eugene Thompson, my lady.” He takes your hand, pressing a kiss above your knuckles. Staring up at you through his lashes, lips still near your hand, he smiles, a smile that could make anyone fall to their knees. But you've seen better. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Thank you?” You nervously glance towards Lyla who's currently eating an entire plate of cream puffs. “How may I help you, viscount?”

“A dance, perhaps?” Leaning away, Eugene waits for your answer. “You haven't been dancing and I've seen you watch the dancefloor with longing. I'm here to remedy that. If you'd do me the honour.”

“Uh… I have a bad leg that is currently not for dancing.”

“I'll help you,” Eugene squeezes your hand softly. “You can stand on my shoes and I'll dance for you. It's bad enough that you can't dance in your own party.”

No one comes to your rescue, meanwhile Lyla is scarfing down all the pastries on the dessert table.

With a deep inhale, you smile politely. “Sure, why not.”

Eugene beams at you like he won first place at a pony show. Guiding you towards the dance floor, you once again feel eyes on you.

“Take my hand, put your feet up on mine, and I'll do the rest.” He whispers softly to you.

With a nod of encouragement from (surprisingly) your aunt, you take his hand and the other placed behind his neck. Carefully and blindly feeling for his shoes, you stand on top of the leather that squishes under your weight. Chest to chest, he looks down at you with his sparkling eyes. Did you have a choice in this? Or did he back you into a corner? You guess you'd never know as he glides around the dancefloor whilst you let him carry you around effortlessly.

There are worse partners to be had in this situation.

“So, duchess—”

“My life at sea was tumultuous but rewarding and I learned a lot of lessons from it.” You recite the script you prepared for yourself.

“Not what I meant, my lady.” Eugene chuckles, “I was going to ask how you're faring in all of this. It must be…a lot.”

“Oh,” you suddenly feel embarrassed in front of the charismatic stranger. “It’s a lot, but I'll get used to it, viscount, don't worry about me.”

“Please call me Eugene or even Thompson, just don't call me viscount. It makes me sound old.” He laughs, it's light and honest. The sound fills you with ease.

You smile, “just don't call me duchess or my lady and I'll do just that.”

“As you wish, my la— Y/N,” he tests your name on his tongue. “I can't help but worry, you know. I just inherited my title so I know how it feels. Granted it's not exactly the same but I'm here if you need someone.”

“That’s— thank you, Eugene.” You smile genuinely, he squeezes your hands once, the act flinging memories back into your mind.

“Are you alright?” He asks, concerned. “You look like you're about to cry, is it your leg?” Stopping right in the middle of the room, he flits his eyes all over your face and twitching eye.

“No— I…”

“May I have this dance?” A familiar voice asks, and you feel like you're dreaming, suddenly floating through the clouds as your ears perk up from his voice.

Slowly, you crane your neck to look at him. You swear your heart stopped beating but the mere sight of him brought it back to life.

Hobie gives you the smile he reserves just for you, soft and endearing, all love and affection under the grey eyes you've come to love.

“I think she's done for the night—” Eugene tries to finish but you cut him off once you see Hobie's outstretched hand.

“Yes,” you say quickly. “Yes, you may.” Stepping off Eugene's shoes, you take Hobie's hand without sparing the other man a glance.

In your peripheral vision, you see Eugene smile through his annoyance. But your entire attention goes to the man whose hand you're currently holding, whose hand fits perfectly in your grasp.

“What are you doing here?” You say tearfully, voice breaking. The music hides your cracking voice and the crowd hides your unshed tears.

His calloused hands holding you aren't but a memory anymore.

“‘m sorry, I know you told me not to follow but—”

Laughing, you finally feel whole again. “Captain,” you say it with your whole heart. “Is it bad that I'm glad you did?”

“No,” Hobie lifts you up by your waist to place you atop his own shoes. His hand never left your waist as he dances with you. Letting your warmth fill his entire being, he resists the urge to take you away from the prying crowd. “It's not bad. Did you miss me, scuttlebutt?”

“Aye, I did.” You mumble, but you say the words truthfully. “Why are you here, Hobie?” Uttering his name audibly fills you with glee. “Not like I don't want you to be but—” you finally now notice his fine garb.

With a once over, you ogle him. The suit looks like it's tailored for him, cinching his waist perfectly. Even his shiny leather shoes fit him right. The red waistcoat matches your dress. The dress jacket covers his arms, you silently wish it didn't. A rose is pinned on his lapel, he smells of burgundy and sea salt. Home, you thought. You do miss the leather though. A well placed tophat on his head helps conceal his recognizable hair. You wish to see it again.

You haven't seen him dress like this the entire time you've known him. And based on his stories, he has never worn anything like it either.

He looks good, incredibly good in it, but you know him. And you know that he doesn't feel good in it.

Hobie admires you whilst you do the same. He feels like the fishbone stuck in his throat has finally gone away now that he can finally see you close, touch you and talk to you like he used to. Underneath all the silver and frills, he still sees the real you. But he's prepared to love both.

“You're ogling.” You beat him to it. “Where'd you get the clothes? The hat doesn't do you any favours.”

“A lord something something found himself unconscious after accidentally chugging down absinthe that he thought was gin. In his defense it was dark. He was lucky that I was there to catch him, eh?”

“What?” You giggle, hand kneading at the back of his neck. He missed that.

“It wasn't me though.”

“Sure.” You dress glides as he twists the both of you. Gasping, you hold on to him tighter. “Where'd you learn how to dance?”

“We all have our secrets, love.” Love, oh how you missed that.

“It was Finn, right?”

He sighs, smile still on his lips. “...yes.”

You laugh, placing your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat wash over you. “I can't imagine.”

“I think it's better that you don’t.” He whispers. “Wanna get out of here?”

Lifting your head up lightning fast, you grin widely. “Please.”

“I'm walking out of here in five minutes, join me after three. And tell your bodyguard that you're just going to bed, yeah?”

“Are you finally going to kill me?” You joke, wishing that you could meld closer to him.

“Yes, I've got a pocket of pomegranate seeds at the ready.”

“Alright, wait for me?”

Hobie stops right where you two began. He helps you off with his hands on your waist. His touch lingers there for a second, a second more and it would've caused a scandal.

“Always, love. As long as you're comin'” He leans down, hand holding your own. Kissing your knuckles like a gentleman, his eyes never left yours, eyes crinkling the corners into a subtle smile. “I'll see you outside.”

“Yes.” You say breathlessly.

Hobie leaves, resisting the urge to look back at you.

As you watch his retreating back, your aunt suddenly appears by your side, making your skin jump.

“What—?”

“Who was that?” She commands.

“Lord…” You see a bee buzzing over an apple near the tables. “Applebees. Yes, lord applebees.”

“Huh,” She narrows her eyes, but accepts it as truth anyway. “Never heard of him. Do you know him?”

“Nope.” You act innocently. “Just met him.”

“Hmm, carry on.” Victoria finally leaves you alone.

Weaving through the crowd, avoiding Eugene and other people, you make your way towards Lyla with an excuse that you don't feel so well.

“I can escort you—”

“No need, I've basically memorized the manor now.” A big fat lie on your end. “Enjoy the rest of the party though.” You leave quickly, leaving her to her cream puffs.

—

The night air kisses your cheeks the moment you step outside. Scanning the field and behind the fountain, you see Hobie slink away towards the hedge maze, the top hat discarded just at the entrance. The greenery adds to your excitement.

“Little shit.” You say to yourself as you make your way towards the maze.

Hands lifting up your skirt, the fabric is silky soft and heavy. Yet you practically sprint towards the entrance with a smile despite the cold and spiky grass grazing along your feet. The full moon shines brightly, bronze braziers are placed along the maze, helping you find your way. The smell of dew and grass greets you.

Entering the thicket, you whisper yell for him. “Hobie!”

You jump when he answers somewhere inside the dim maze. “Place your right hand on the right wall, follow it and you'll find me, trouble.” You can hear his smirk through his words.

“You are such an ass!” You say with a giggle, following his instructions. The hedge is rough and pointy under your palm, your other hand is lifting up your dress so you could run faster.

Your leg aches but you don't care enough to notice.

“Hurry so you can beat the shit out of me then!” You now hear him a lot closer now. “Getting warmer, love!”

Huffing, puffs of smoke escape your cool lips. “Oh I'll fucking smack you upside the head.” You hear him laugh loudly at your words. Following the sound of home, you finally make it to the center.

Hobie yanks you immediately, pulling you close to his chest, laughs rumbling his chest as you screech. With a well placed hand on your mouth, you lick at his palm, earning a yelp from the man. Yet he doesn't let you go, instead he hugs you tighter against his chest.

After the laughter subsides and the sound of crickets permeates the air once again, you look up at him, back placed on his steady chest, arms around your torso. You stare at an upside down Hobie. He smiles, breath fanning across your heated face.

“Hello.” Your heart beats louder than a drum with the simple greeting.

“Hi, come here often?” You beam up at him, feeling his muscles relax at the sight of your smile.

“I come here every autumn, how about you?” Hobie pinches your sides, but you barely felt it through the thick corset

“Oh well I kinda live here now.”

“Really? Do I get a discount now?”

“Better, you get to stay here for free.” You stand on your tippy toes to lean further up until the top of your head is perfectly leveled to his lips. Just as planned, he places a feather light kiss that makes you shiver.

Eyes closed, his lips linger atop your skin.

“Are you alright?” Hobie asks, voice muffled by your skin.

“I am now.” You open your eyes to heaven.

He grins, “good,” taking a long breath, he feels like it's the first time he has breathed into you. “That's good.”

“Are you?” Your eyes flashes with worry.

Hobie pushes the thought of the crew leaving him in the void of his mind. “I'm fine, don't worry about me, scuttlebutt.” he turns you in his arms, concerned for the crick in your neck.

Hands splayed over his chest, you feel his heart beating faster. “The crew? Are they alright? No one got caught?”

He nods, cradling your face, noting every difference on your face since he saw you last. Eyes staying on your lips, he resists the temptation.

“Not our first escape. They're nearby and they're alright.”

You exhale, hands sliding up and down, blindly feeling for his skin under all the expensive cloth. It's still him underneath it all, and you're glad.

The dam breaks, thumping your head on his chest, you let out a sob. “I miss them. I miss you.”

“And I, you, love. You have no idea.” As he holds you in his arms, you tell him everything. From how Jessica found you, to how there's a conspiracy against your family.

“Mathias did the deed, Hobie.” He visibly stiffens at the sound of the navy captain's name. “He killed them under the behest of someone more powerful.”

“I know,” you lean away with a raised brow. “I was following you. I'm sorry, I had to know that he wasn't leading you towards your death.” Hobie expects you to yell and get mad at him. Instead you slap his chest weakly with a chuckle.

“Stalker.” You lay his wrinkled dress shirt down gently. “You could've let me know, I can keep a secret.”

“I tried, but I couldn't find an opportunity. You're popular now innit?” He stops your hand, placing his own atop it.

“Just a little bit.”

“I got close once but when I entered your room, you weren't there anymore.”

“I think that's when my cousins called for me—wait, how'd you get in?” Hobie finds your scrunched up face endearing.

“Employee tunnels, there's hundreds of them that connect to each room.” Before you could ask how he knew about them, he beat you to it. “Bribed a handmaiden with one of my necklaces.”

You stare at him with wonderment. “Let me pay you back then.” Untying the necklace you recently made, you place it in his open palm. You intend for him to keep it, in case your reunion is short lived.

Hobie takes it without question. He admires the dark pearl in his hand, the memory of your face after finding it is engraved in his mind.

“Help me tie it?”

You nod with a shy smile, pulse rapidly increasing. “Turn around, cap'n.” He obliges, mirroring your smile. With gentle and tender hands, you tie the red thread around his neck. He turns back around to face you, the pearl shines atop his skin brilliantly.

“Beautiful,” you whisper just to him, his own flustered face is reflected in your shining eyes.

A comfortable silence hangs above the both of you as his hands are placed on your waist, laying there politely. You do the same with your hands around his elbows. The two of you look like you're about to dance with the sound of the crickets as your choice of music.

You expect him to ask you to come with him. To run away and leave the manor, your family's legacy behind. But Hobie doesn't, cannot do that to you, now that you both have the same goal— kill Mathias.

“I’ll help you find whoever killed them, then…” you blink in surprise, heart pounding at his next words. “Come back with me to the mermaid's head? We can find a decent crew there. Then we can avenge them, every single one. After that we can sail wherever you want, see the real world.” His words are genuine, no lie or false hope in his tone. He believes that you and him can do it, do anything as long as you're with him. Gwen and the others are right, he needs to think things through more, and this is his chance to do so.

“You'll stay with me until then?” He nods, eyes serious but full of affection. Breath stuck in your throat, “With what ship?” You ask with a growing smile. Happy that someone finally wants to know the truth with you. Stay with you after so many people have left you.

“We'll find a way, we always do, right?” Hobie squeezes your waist softly. “Or after everything, if you want to stay somewhere, settle somewhere, we can.”

Oh.

“You've convinced me, you had me at ‘wherever I want’” You say, still in disbelief that he wants to stay with you.

You both feel it, the static in the air like lightning is about to strike where you and Hobie stood. He smiles sweetly and you give in.

Leaning in, hands wrapped around the back of his neck, you're prepared to seal the deal with a kiss. Hobie meets you halfway, his lips briefly brushes along yours and it's enough to send electricity through you from his skin alone.

His breath hitches in his throat, chest tightening, affection flowing freely from his fingertips. But before he could properly kiss you, a loud voice calls for you just outside the maze.

You both moved away quickly, flustered faces hiding the giddy smiles you and him both sport. His skin burns while his heart aches. Meanwhile, you can't stop thinking about his lips grazing yours. It'll keep you awake throughout the night.

Lyla yells like someone took her coin. Hobie quickly grabs you by the elbow, pulling you close and then whispering in your ear. His lips brush along the shell of your ear and you shiver from the touch.

“I'm staying at the barn.” Hobie kneads softly at the small of your back, eyes keeping watch at the entrance of the maze. “If you need to see me, there's a tapestry of a unicorn in your room. Flip it away and you'll see the doorway into the tunnels. There will be a fork in the path, take a right and it'll take you outside.” With every word he utters, you melt.

He subtly invites you, and you silently accept with a slow nod.

Backing away when he hears rustling outside, his warm hand remains a second on your heated skin. With a lopsided smile, he turns away.

Fading inside the maze, he disappears into view just as Lyla gets to the center.

“Christ!” She flicks a branch off her hair. “What are you doing here? You said you'd be in bed!”

“I went out for a walk.” Your tone is wobbly. “It's a lovely night for it.”

“Sure sure, you can walk anywhere you want. But come on, not in the ‘murder maze’ Y/N! Miguel's gonna cut my pay if I let you die on my watch!”

“And here I thought you really cared for me, Lyla.” You pout, you're in a good mood. But it could've been better if Lyla didn't show up at the wrong time.

“Pssh, come on, let's get you to bed. It's fucking freezing out here.” She beckons you over, grumbling about being a babysitter.

—

You lay on the soft bed, eyes wide open, arms spread across the large mattress. The blue canopy above you reminds you of the waves on your island. The windows are closed, while the fireplace illuminates the room. Shadows dance in your vision, and you wonder if he's cold.

With a shake of your head, you sit up, gathering enough confidence to visit him. After a minute of slapping your face awake and telling yourself to not be a coward, you finally stand up.

You're in your linen slip, frilly collar and sleeves, white roses adorning the almost see through fabric. It doesn't help much with the cold so you take your robe and hastily put it on. Gathering the thick blanket in your arms, you don't even bother folding it properly as you haul it out of bed to drag the heavy material across the room and into the tunnel entrance.

Stopping by the unicorn tapestry, you flip it open with your foot. A breeze passes by, peeking into the dark tunnel, you bravely walk inside.

You do the same thing like you did in the maze, right hand sliding across the right wall, following it to the exit. Your eyes adjust to the dark, soon after that you can see outlines of the chipped walls. You reach the fork in the path, and just as Hobie instructed, you head towards the right tunnel.

After walking the cool tunnel, you finally make it to a wooden door. It has seen better days, looking like it's about to collapse any second. With a creak, you push it open with your shoulder.

Finally making it outside, you beeline towards the barn. You remember passing it on your way towards the lake, so you strain your ears to hear the sounds of animals, using it as your guide whilst the moon shines a path for you.

The large doors loom above you, it's dark inside based from the crack on the door, a cow moos inside while a horse neighs. With your heart in your throat, you push open the door.

But Hobie flings it open before you could even touch the wood. His eyes are wide, mouth agape, hand trembling on the door. His surprise quickly turns into happiness.

“Can't sleep?” He asks like his legs aren't shaking, threatening to buckle under his nervous self.

“No, I thought you'd be cold.” A lie, in truth, you haven't slept well since you parted ways. “Don't just stand there like a tree branch, help with this.” You practically throw the heavy blanket in his arms. He catches it with an ‘oof’ but his smile stays on his lips. You remember how soft it was.

Hobie pats down the top of the cloth to get a good look at you, he wishes he hadn't for he thinks he died and gone to purgatory.

Your linen slip doesn't hide much as the moonlight perfectly aligns on your back, shining behind you, showing him every curve and dip of your body. The robe doesn't help as it's made from the same cloth, it just adds to his racing heart and rushing blood.

He swears the hay underneath his feet has burst into flames.

“Why are you sweating? It's freezing!” To add to your clueless cruelty, you step closer to him to wipe at the sweat streaming down his temple. “Yuck, Hobie!” You joke with a giggle.

“Are you trying to kill me?” He breathlessly asks, clutching the blanket tighter in his arms.

Your eyebrows knit adorably. “No? I left the dagger under my pillow.”

He clears his throat and his mind, “A-alright. D’you want to come inside?”

“O-oh.” It's your turn to be flustered. He looks beautiful in the low light, it illuminates his best features, which is every part of him in your opinion. “Are your friends alright with you receiving guests?” You tease to hide your current state.

Hobie looks over his shoulder with a laugh. The animals look back at him with blank faces.

“I think they're alright with it, as long as you pick up after yourself.”

“I can do that. I've heard I'm a wonderful guest.” You saunter towards the pen, Hobie’s eyes avoid your backside. “Hi, gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous? That one's new.”

“I'm talking about the horse, Hobie.” He finally looks at you petting the dark horse as the animal snorts in your hand. You giggle, cooing at the docile horse.

“I'm fucking done for.” He whispers lowly, a deep rumble under his chest. Closing the barn door, he tightly closes his eyes with a giddy grin.

“What was that?” You twist around to face him, the horse nudges you, asking for your attention.

“Nothin’” he saves face. “That there is Bernard,” he says while he places the blanket on top of a hay bail. “He's here at the barn instead of the stables because he won't let anyone ride him without bucking them off.”

“How'd you even know that?” You chuckle.

“The stable hand and I are best friends now. He's lettin’ me stay here as long as I stay quiet.”

“Best friends huh? Miles wouldn't like that.” You poke his bicep.

“He'd be devastated.” He jokes back, taking your finger right before you retract it back. Uncurling your fingers, he laces your hand together with his own. Your pulse quickens under his touch.

“Mm-hmm,” you could only say while he looks at you like you found a treasure chest just for him. It's the best you can do really.

“That one is Butter,” He gestures towards the cow staring intently at you like you're made of grass. “Don't try to pet her, she bites.”

“Noted.”

“The goat in the corner eating a shoe is Jack, he likes to ram people.”

“I already like him,” you say through a yawn.

“You can sleep here if you want.”

“As long as I don't share the bed with Butter.”

“Worse, you'll share it with me.”

“Oh that is definitely worse.” You giggle, squeezing his hand. “You drool in your sleep.”

“C’mon, up at the hayloft.” He guides you towards the ladder, grabbing the blanket on the way. “Careful, the second step is loose.”

“I can handle it, expert climber, remember?” Climbing up, you miss the way he averts his eyes.

Finally making it up, you roam your eyes at the small space covered in hay bales. There's a single circular window in the middle of the wall, the light filters through it, shining directly down at the laid out blanket on the floor.

“Nice, you're living in luxury, Hobie.”

He flings the blanket at your feet whilst he still climbs the remaining steps. “Cover yourself up, you'll catch a cold.”

“I’m fine,” your skin is on fire from where he touched you.

Hobie hums, avoiding flitting his eyes over to you where the moon shines a spotlight on you. He feels like he's not gonna survive the night, and you think so too.

Sitting down with a groan, he lays his head on the makeshift pillow filled with hay. It doesn't smell as much as you thought it would be, you wonder if these were fresh hay.

“How'd you get to stay here?” You ask, while you sit next to him. He scooches away to make space for you.

“The bloke knew who I was—”

“What?! What if he—”

“We're good, love. He won't tell anyone, he said I've helped his family once, I barely remember it but he was happy to keep everything quiet. Lie down?”

“Are you sure?” His hand guides you down on the blanket, hand on your shoulder, gently pulling you down. And you let him without apprehension on your end.

“‘m sure, you're not the only popular one. Don't worry about it, yeah?” Hobie grabs the blanket from your arms to lay it on top of you both. “This is nice, just like in the island eh?” He pats your arm.

“Only this time there's no sand in our knickers, just hay.” You lay on your side to face him, he does the same. “Hi.”

“Hello,” he smiles, hand splayed over your bicep. “This is a five star accommodation compared to the island.”

You bravely close the small distance, he's so close to you that you could hear his heartbeat.

With trepidation, you can't hold it in any longer, lest you regret never telling him.

“I love you, Hobie.” Staring at his swirling eyes, you feel yourself shudder. “And I know you only love the part of me that reminds you of her. And I'm alright with that.”

He swallows thickly, hands clammy.

“Don't worry, I've come to terms with it.” You choke back, smiling, accepting.

“I love you anyway.” He whispered in wonderment.

You can't believe his words. Eyes glossy, you shake your head. “Don't pity me—”

“I don't pity you, I love you. I-I may have liked you at first because of the similarities. But that phase has passed, the feeling is still there, it's stronger now.” He says truthfully, hands grasping your own, kissing your knuckles softly as tears flow out of your eyes. “Because I know you, Y/N, your hands are gentle when you sew me close. You give the same softness when you do it to my crew. Your eye twitches when you're annoyed. Your ankle never fully recovered after you twisted it, you talk to me like you fuckin' hate me but you smile at me like you loved me from the start.”

He holds you close, grey eyes calm, tears pooling in the corners. “I love the parts of you too. Similarities or not, I would have fallen for you either way.” With a nervous chuckle, he continues.

“I love you as you, not as MJ.”

With his confession, you sit up and then immediately pressed your lips against his own. He gasps, pleasantly surprised. You brace yourself on his shoulders, whilst he holds you in place by your waist. Lips moving in tandem, teeth clacking, breaths heaving above the sounds of the animals below—everything seems to fix itself.

Hobie holds you like how you hold rain in your hands— gentle and cradling the water like you would seep through his fingers.

You feel him smile through the kiss, it makes you snog him deeper. His fingers grasps at your slip, balling it in his fist, a proof that this is real and not a dream his lovesick mind concocted. Sliding his hand above your nape, he pulls you in closer, deeper and deeper the kiss goes, the less air he has in his lungs.

Reluctantly pulling you off with his hand lifting your chin away, you chase his lips before surrendering. “Fuckin' hell, let me breathe.” He chuckles out.

“Sorry.” You stare at his kiss bitten lips, and the sheer your lips left. “I got carried away.”

“Nah, don't be. I've wanted to do that for a while, you just beat me to it.”

Eyes downturned, nose kissing the tip of his own, you exhale like it's the first time you've breathed. “I'm not trying to replace her, I don't want that. I know she will always stay with you. So, let me ask you this— Are you sure? There'll be consequences.”

“I can handle the consequences. I'll fight the consequences.”

You smile. “We'll fight the consequences. Together.”

Hobie chuckles deeply, chest bobbing up and down, lifting you up and down on top of him. Your heart beats sync, grey eyes staring up at you with reverence, a whirlpool of affection swirling inside.

“I think I've got enough air now, do it again?” He asks like he's asking for a second heaping of lunch.

You nod with a grin, and you dig in.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you liked it! ❤️

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panda-writes-kpop · 3 months

Text

Second Chances ~ Pirate!Karina

a/n: another pirate fic, but it was inspired by a conversation about losers that @kingmaker-a and I had. enjoy the fruits of my continued pirate brain rot and my experience of being a loser for nineteen years and counting! :]

tw: guns, blood, and violence (oh my!), alcohol (reader has a preference for brandy but just imagine something different if you don't like it), reader is a professional little shit (and this is a bit of a self-insert plz leave me alone)

♡ Masterlist ♡

summary: you're given a second chance at pirating because Karina fucked her first impression with you. To prove your worth (and to give her a second chance), she takes you out to a local shooting range where sparks fly (literally and figuratively).

As a former pirate warlord in a small town, your life couldn't get more boring.

You had spent your younger years chasing fame, glory and riches - and look where that got you. You were stuck on a shitty island with no crew and no way out except swimming (which would most likely result in certain death).

Once, a lifetime ago, it seems, you had your face plastered on every wanted poster board on every island you visited. Your head was worth a pretty penny, which made you keep your crew on a short leash. If one of them babbled, you'd find out pretty quickly.

Rats are a nuisance found at the worst time, so you'd only found out about your disloyal crew when you were disputing fraudulent charges with a nearby pirate crew.

With the world hunting your head, a pissed-off group of enemy pirates, and a pit of vipers you had once called your crew, you were on the next sailboat out from the coastline. You didn't have much more than the shirt on your back, so you fled to the first island that the ship ported on - the same shitty island you were stuck at, three years laters.

Three years might as well be eternity in the world of pirates - you barely recognized any of the pirates that were on the wanted boards. It's not like you wanted the bounty - doing odd jobs around the island kept a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and enough alcohol to clear your thoughts for a few hours.

Yet here you were, on a quiet island, in the first bar from the docks. With a bottle of brandy (the bartender started giving you the bottle after growing tired of refilling your glass again and again), you eye the newest group of pirates to make themselves at home on the most unbecoming island on this planet.

You didn't think anything of it - pirates frequent bars like birds frequent feeders - but a glimpse of shiny red-hair nearly causes you to choke on your brandy.

The infamous Red-Hair Pirates, led by none other than Captain Winter. A fierce fighter known for her loyal, deadly crew, and you wanted nothing more than to stay out of her way.

She could kill you without a second look, not to mention that her crew would rip you to shreds afterwards like rabid hyenas.

You wouldn't find any peace tonight, not when an unloaded rifle crashes against your shoulder. It takes every muscle in your body to resist the urge to fight as a girl with short black hair scrambles to grab it.

"Sorry, fuck, I'm sorry." She slurs before crashing against the table.

Brandy spills all over your clothes as your temper crashes against its lid - you're almost at your breaking point.

"It's fine." You teeth grind against each other as you spit out your answer.

"Your brandy-"

"-just take your damn gun and go!" You shove the gun into her arms, which sends her tumbling to the ground.

Eyes follow the two of you as the girl attempts to get up, at least three times, before another girl from her crew grabs her arm.

"C'mon, Rina, let's go." The second girl, with light blonde hair, shoves Rina towards the exit as you try to sink back into your seat as far as possible.

Everyone's eyes are still lingering on you as you pull out a small knife - not to kill or show dominance, but to perform a favorite party trick of yours.

You spot the target board on the other side of the bar. When a bartender moves out of the way, you quickly aim and fire the knife while looking the opposite direction.

The gasps and cheers tell you that you've hit your mark while you attempt to clean up the spilt brandy with a few napkins. You'd probably smell like liquor for days, if not weeks, but you'd learn to live with it, just like everything else.

After you dry most of the liquor off the table and your clothes, another bottle of brandy lands on your table with a sharp thud.

"I don't take pity booze." You sharply answer.

"It's not free, but I'm asking for five minutes of your time." Captain Winter places her hand on her hip as you hesitantly grab the bottle.

"Take as long as you need, Captain." You take a swig of the brandy, and you're pleasantly surprised by the flavor. "Top-shelf booze?"

"We got lucky on our last ship takeover." Winter slides into the other side of the booth. "Are you looking for any riches?"

"You're trying to buy my loyalty with alcohol." You scan Winter for any malicious intent, but she only has a simple smile on her face.

"Is it working?"

"Depends on what you're offering and why you're so interested in me."

"You threw a knife from across the room without looking and managed to hit a target dead-on." Winter leans in before folding her hands. "Are you that accurate with a gun?"

"I am, but you wouldn't know that unless you knew who I was." You lean back against the booth before taking another drink of brandy. "You're well read, Winter."

"The lucky guess excuse doesn't fool you, then. It's an honor to be in your presence, Captain."

"Are you looking for a marksman?" You deadpan as she nods.

"I can't guarantee great pay or a path back to notoriety, but-"

"-I'm in."

Due to the damages to Winter's ship, you're stuck on land for a couple more days. After your little stunt at your most frequented bar, you decided to go to a much quieter place, farther from the docks for tonight's drinking session.

Unfortunately, trouble finds you before you can find it. The drunken girl from before, Rina, is stunningly sober as she walks through the bar doors.

Once she spots you, her eyes become shifty as her posture tenses up. A smile plays on your face - a nervous marksman, a paradox for the ages - so you ask for another glass of brandy before you wave her over.

"You're here later than I expected." She softly says before swirling the brandy in the glass in front of her.

"And you're here sober. Guess we're both full of surprises." You quip as her eyes widen.

"I don't usually have that much to drink. We had a good plunder earlier in the day." She's quiet for a moment before her eyes meet yours. "Sorry about last night. I don't hold my whiskey as well as I thought I did."

"You'll get used to it eventually, or you start drinking lighter, Rina." You sip your brandy as she chuckles into her glass.

"Karina." A subtle correction, but one you notice. "Giselle's the only one who calls me that."

"Well, Karina, it looks like you and I will be spending more time together. Your captain has recruited me as a marksman under your watch."

"If you're under my watch, then we should see what you can do," Karina pushes the glass towards the bartender after taking a final swig from the glass, "unless you're not feeling well enough?"

Her lips twist into a teasing smile as you finish off of your own glass of brandy. For someone who can't hold their liquor, she's got a mouth that will get her in trouble with the wrong people.

Luckily for her, you're not that type of person. Not anymore, at least.

"There's a shooting range a few miles from the beaten path. Unless you've got somewhere else to be, I'd be glad to show you what I've got." You slide off the stool with ease as Karina scrambles to catch up with you.

"Isn't it locked up by now? It's a few hours past sunset." She says as you scoff.

"When have pirates ever cared about rules?"

"Have you ever picked a lock before?"

You turn to Karina, who ponders your question for a moment in the glowing moonlight. Without any obstruction, it shines just enough light to illuminate her face, especially her eyes and lips.

....It's not like you were looking, though.

"I usually leave that to Giselle, she's the crafty one." Karina shrugs before pulling her jacket closer to her chest. "How much farther is this shooting range, exactly?"

In all fairness, it is a bit chilly at night, especially when you're taking a dirt path that sits close to the ocean. You've taken this path before, when you need to blow off steam or just need a break from the hustle and bustle of town life.

"Just a few more minutes up the road. You cold?" You start pulling at your overcoat, trying to undo it as quickly as possible, before Karina places a hand on your arm.

"It's alright - a little cold never killed anyone." She jokes before taking a soft breath.

You watch, albeit it a little intensely, how the air from her lips creates a soft, foggy mist that floats into the night sky. You wonder if she's putting on a brave face because she's intimidated by you or if she wants to intimidate you. Seeing as her first introduction to you was as destructive as a bull in a china shop, you could easily rule out the latter.

Karina wasn't the type to lead with authority - she left that to her Captain. From what you've seen and heard of her, she develops personal connections with her subsection of the crew, which explains the immediate offer of shooting practice. This wasn’t a test of skill, but rather, a form of camaraderie.

That was something you could respect, as a former Captain of your own crew.

A distant pang in your chest pulls your attention from Karina - did you really miss your crew that much? They were liars and scumbags, but they were family, after all.

"We're here," You curtly say as you place the lock on the gate in your hand, "hand me your hairpin."

"How did you know I had hairpins in my hair?" She asks, confused, before slowly grabbing a hairpin from her hair.

"Your hair has stayed perfectly in place since we left the bar and it's been breezy all night." You answer before holding out your other hand. "I'll give it back, I promise."

"Sounds reasonable enough." She shrugs before handing you her hairpin.

Normally, it would've taken you a few seconds to pick the lock, but Karina's presence throws you off your game. It doesn't help that she's eagerly leaning over your shoulder, which causes heat to rise to your cheeks, but the lock gives a satisfying click before you can dissolve into a nervous mess.

Her soft breath on your shoulder causes you to gently shudder. You look back at her as you pull the lock from the gate and put it in your pocket.

"You're incredibly resourceful for a simple marksman." Karina says as you open the gate for the two of you. "Are you sure you're not hiding anything from me?"

Karina offers you a brilliant smile, one that outshines the sun and the moon.

"Why don't we find out?" You give her a wink before gesturing for her to enter the gate. "My commanding lady goes first."

Her eyes widen as she slips through the gate before you, and you shut the gate as she intently watches you.

"My hairpin-" She lightly brushes a lock of stray hair behind her ear as you hold the hairpin in between your index and middle fingers.

"I've got it."

Karina holds out her hand expectantly and opens her mouth to say something, but the words die on her tongue as you quietly close the distance between the two of you. You, ever so carefully, put the hairpin back into place in Karina's hair, in the exact location that it came from.

When you pull away from her, a rosy blush covers her face as she nervously plays with the sling carry on that keeps her rifle on her back. You bite your lip as she shakes her head at you.

"You're full of surprises."

"I know." You shrug as you continue to walk towards the shooting range. "Shall we?"

The rest of the walk to the shooting range is silent, but you manage to slip the lock into your pocket during the walk.

Karina was right - you were full of surprises. You were surprised that the sound of the key banging against the lock in your pocket didn't give you away.

You'd done some personal business for the owners, and they didn't have much capital, so you simply asked for a key to their shooting range. They were more than happy to give you a spare from the keysmith, and you used it whenever you came here alone.

This time, you had something to prove, and someone to impress. Since Karina could hardly look you in the eyes every time you glanced over at her, your mission was complete.

"You've shot a rifle before." Karina folds her arms and steps away from you as you aim the barrel of the gun at the target.

"It used to be one of my favorite weapons, back when I was pirating with my crew." You casually mention before firing the weapon.

The bullet hits the center of the target, just as it always does, and Karina stares in amazement.

"Nice shot, Deadeye," Karina softly says before adding, "were you this good of a shot when you were a captain?"

"Did Winter tell you?" You ask.

Karina looks away for a moment before responding.

"I was the one who recognized you, at first. I was too drunk to remember how I got over to you, but I remember saying something to Ningning, who must've told Winter," Karina explains before meeting your eyes, "I still can't believe I made a fool of myself in front of such a notorious pirate."

Her cheeks burn bright with embarrassment, but you're quick to comfort her with a small smile and a soft hand on her shoulder.

"If it makes you feel any better, the first time I got wasted without my crew, I threw up on a Marine Officer. Don't remember how that night went, but I woke up the next day on my ship, and I was covered in someone else's blood."

Karina throws her head back and laughs, and you think that her laughter is the best sound that you've ever heard. It's much better than the jokes told at the bar, or the sleazy tactics of the salesmen that you walk past every day on your way to your job of the day.

You wish you could bottle her laughter and get drunk on the sound every night of the week. It's loud, beautiful, and it fades too quickly for your liking.

"I guess we're both natural disasters, huh?" Her warm smile causes your heart to stir as you set the rifle aside for a moment, just so you can stand closer to her.

You move away to set the rifle down in a safe location before turning around to face her.

"Enough about me. I've heard plenty about you from your crew." You say, feigning innocence, as Karina folds her arms and scoffs.

"If it's about me not being able to hold my liquor, I'm going to hunt Giselle down and-"

You take a step closer to Karina - only three steps between the two of you - before you interrupt her.

"I've heard from your Captain and her first mate that you're quite a flirt. Sometimes too much of a flirt, but it's okay to overindulge every once in a while."

Karina bats her eyelashes at you as she takes a step closer - now it's two steps between you and her.

"Would you like me to flirt with you, Captain?" You don't miss the way her eyes scan you over, shamelessly checking you out when no one's here to witness it.

"How about I go first?" You flirt right back before taking another step - now there's one step between you and her.

Karina takes another step forward - her lips are so close to mine, please kiss me - as she rests her arms at her side.

"Do your worst." She taunts before you pull her in for a long, sensual kiss.

Her hands grab for your arms as you rest your arms at her waist. You're usually not this coy with your romantic pursuits, but Karina's different from your usual type - much prettier and much kinder, if you were to be honest.

Pure adrenaline rushes through you as neither of you want to let go. To let go is to ruin the moment, to have a conversation that neither of you are ready for, but you have to do it anyway because air is a necessity to life, apparently.

"I-" Karina starts as her lips leave yours. "What about-"

She pauses before diving in for another kiss. This time, she weaves her hands through your hair as you continue to hold your waist. She's much more reluctant to let go this time, so her hands go back to rest on your arms as your hands rest on her hips.

"So... does target practice always go like this for you?" You jest as she lightly pushes you away.

"Way to ruin the moment." She jokes as you lean in to taunt her.

"So, this isn't how you treat all of your new recruits?" You grab her rifle and toss it to her.

"Just the ones I really like." She smiles at you, and you take her words at face-value.

She could be playing you for a fool, but that didn't seem like the person she was. You say the woman under the mask, the flirty disaster of a woman who took you out to target practice just so she could steal a few kisses from you.

"Do you want a few more drinks, or would you like to go back to the inn?" You ask before Karina offers you a hand.

"I think another round of drinks is in order - a round for my favorite new crew member." She emphasizes the word favorite, which makes your heart flutter more than you want to admit.

"As long as you don't throw a loaded gun at me this time, I'm in," You say before she elbows you, "okay, I'll let it go... for now."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," She waits for you to take her hand before walking back to town with you, "you just have to give me a second chance.”

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 11 months

Text

#368

“Where are you off to?... The mall? Well, your friends will need to wait. We have something to talk about.

“I have looked after your step-dad, my brother, for his entire life, and I have gotten to know your ma just these past few years. I trust Doyle with my life. So when he and your ma ask a favor to have you live with me while they work out their problems, I can’t say no. I told them that I don’t expect any problems from you. And they assured me that you are a good boy and that you would follow my rules. Well, after a long twelve-hour day at the job site, I want to relax with a Scotch Whisky and a nice Macanudo cigar. Well, imagine my surprise that the bottle of Johnnie Walker, that I opened earlier this week, is well over half gone. I know how much I drink; that bottle would last me a month and a half at least. Care to explain?...

“Well Vinny, don’t ever insult my intelligence again. That is a battle you will never win. You drank my Scotch. Now you have to deal with the consequences.

“C’mere!... I said ‘Come here!’ Lay your sorry ass across my lap; you’re getting a good old fashioned ass whooping.

“…I don’t give a shit that you turned 18 only a few months ago. You ain’t too old to be put in your place…. Don’t you dare head to the door….

“…I told you not to underestimate me. Hold still. I was a state champion wrestler in High School. I was also a cop before my heart problems. I know how to take down a bitch like you. Quit squirming. Let’s get these sweatpants off you…. Going commando, hunh?

“…What? Don’t have something stupid to say? It’s time for you to pay for your fuck up. This is a nice ass. So smooth and pale pink. Too bad I have to welt it up.

“That’s one. One of twenty… on each cheek. Two… Three… Now this cheek. Fuck yeah. My hand is going to be sore for a while, but I don’t care. Six. Seven. You are starting to go red here. Boy you got a hot ass! Ha! Literally it’s very warm.

“Your crack needs some color…. What the fuck? You are wet in your crack. It doesn't stink. Fuck! This is lube! What the fuck?...

“Ha! You were going commando to the mall in sweatpants and your ass is lubed up? No, you have something lined up to get fucked. Ha! Ha!

“And I bet… Don’t try to fight me on this, you have enough lube here for me to easily glide in my finger… like this. Oooh, there’s your prostate.... I can tell you are cleaned out.

“So, let’s start this conversation over. Stand up…. I thought that’s what I felt. Your pecker is hard from you being spanked. Ha! I love it. Look I am totally fine with you being a sperm burper. Fuck, get laid whenever you want. So want to tell me where you were really going?

“Have a hook up? That’s nice. Is it from one of those apps?... Let me see his profile…. Give me your phone…. Which app was it?... Let me see. This him?... So you like 43-year-olds? That’s cool. I’m a little bit older than that.

“Oh, your chat with him is interesting. Very interesting…. So you like sucking on ‘Daddy’s toes?’ This is fucking great…. Quit protesting. I do love it… all of it. I love that you are rock hard.

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. I am rock hard too. Yeah, I’ve played with boys before.

“Here let me take it out for you. Boy you got me leaking. Grab a hold of it. It’s a sizeable piece hunh?... I see you licking your lips.

“Shut up…. One moment…. There! I just sent him a message saying that you are going to be twenty to thirty minutes late because your uncle needs some help unloading some things.

“On the bed…. I don’t give a shit. You got me hard; you are going to take care of it. I want that red ass of yours. Atta boy.

“Spread your legs as far as you can. Just lay there. I prefer when my holes don’t move around. And if you can, don’t moan. Just be the hole you are destined to be.

“Fuck! It is like silk in here. I am going to enjoy using this hole daily…. I said don’t say anything. You live in my house with a hole I can fuck, you better believe I’m going to beat and breed this hole. You got that? Beat and breed. Beat and breed. I hope your mouth is as good as this pussy hole of yours. If not, I’ll train ya right.

“Oh man, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna flood your guts. Here it cums. Here it fucking cums. Get ready boy. Uhhh! Fuuuuuck! Hell yeah! Fuck! Goddamn! Fuck!

“Goddamn! I love your ass. Clamp down as I pull out. Fuck yeah. I can tell this isn’t your first fuck…. Don’t worry, I won’t tell your ma or my brother. They don’t need to know.

“Get up. Clean me off…. What? Look at my cock. It needs to be cleaned up. Get your mouth on my dick now. Don’t question me on this…. Atta boy. You are going to learn that living here requires you to follow my rules. Rule one, you are getting beat then seeded when I want. Rule two, you clean me up after yourself. My cock rules this house and those in it.

“Ok. Get dressed. No, you cannot use the bathroom. You are going to your hook up with a messed up ass, loaded up good. If he should ask, tell him your uncle unloaded a week’s worth of baby batter in your pussy.

“Now go. I want to hear details when you get back. Oh and Vinny, in the future, if you want some Scotch, just ask. Considering I’m going to beat your ass one way or the other, you kinda earned it. Now go.

“And take care of my babies.”

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papermint-airplane · 9 days

Text

WARNING: HUGE RANT AHEAD

As per the request from @nectar-cellar:

Oh boy prepare yourself for a foul-mouthed rant because I am MAD!!!! 😠😠😠😠 Not at you, NC. I love you. You can do no wrong in my eyes. 😘

No I am mad at this STUPID FUCKING SIM holy shit

OK FIRST OF ALL

He started life like THIS

What I can only describe as "Disney's Aladdin visits a dude ranch". Yes, I know I have used that exact outfit (minus the boots) for Roman before, shut up, you're not here to expose my hypocrisy, you're here to suffer with me because OH BOY DID I SUFFER.

Ok so he turned out like this. Not bad, you say? No. Bad. Very bad.

I SPENT TWO AND A HALF FUCKING HOURS ON THIS STUPID MOTHERFUCKER AND THERE'S STILL SOMETHING OFF ABOUT HIS FACE AND I CAN'T FIGURE OUT WHAT AND I PUT CONTOURING MAKEUP ON HIS FACE AND YOU CAN BARELY SEE IT BECAUSE FOR SOME REASON, THIS SKINTONE IS IMPOSSIBLE TO COLOR MATCH TONIGHT AND I DON'T KNOW WHY BECAUSE I'M USUALLY GREAT AT COLOR MATCHING FUCK THIS GUY

Yeah so I got him in Live Mode and there is just something about him that is pissing me right the fuck off and I don't know what it is. Is it the eyes? Are the eyes too big? Jaw too square? I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS AND IT'S PISSING ME OFF!!!!!!!!!! I really feel like the eyes are too big but I kept shrinking his eyes until he literally looked like this .👄. and it still didn't help.

I went in and out of CAS at least 7 times and I can't figure out what's off and I can't fix it and I HATE HIMMMMMMMMMM

"Who's made of pixels and sucks ass? This guy!"

"Don't you just love me?"

NO I WANT TO HIT YOU WITH A BUS

I know that making masc men is a challenge for me. This is not new information. It's been a problem for 20 years, it'll be a problem for 20 more. I know what I find attractive in a man, I just don't know what looks good on a Sim. Know what I mean? No? Stop being difficult, you know exactly what I mean.

I also tried using NC's new torso and oh boy that was an adventure because the torso is fire and his face is A FUCKING DISASTER. There is something about his head and his torso that are incongruous with each other and I don't. know. what. it. is. It's driving me crazy. No correction, it has DRIVEN me crazy, past tense. I am crazy now and this fucker is why!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOOK AT THIS PIECE OF SHIT WHY DOESN'T HIS HEAD FIT WHAT DID I DO WRONG

I even expanded my slider multiples so I could fine tune things thinking that would help but no I think it made everything worse ESPECIALLY MY MENTAL HEALTH

I hate him. I HAAAAAAAAATEEE HIIIIIIIIIM

So by now you're like "Laura there's nothing wrong with him, Laura you're taking this too seriously, Laura he's fine" and I know. I KNOW! I STILL HATE HIM

And you're god dang right I put that fucker on a pole. If I get community labeled because of this shit heap, I'm gonna lose my shitting mind.

Literally fuck you, I hate you so much. I didn't even give you a name. Do you know what your name is? "Stupid asshole who won't behave" that's what your name is.

I even threw Monica the Devil Girl in there hoping that would help. It didn't.

Know what the worst part is?

I enjoyed this. I mean yeah sure I hated the whole process and I hate the result and I hate this Sim and in a minute, I'm going to have an alien Sim land a meteor on top of his head, but there's something really cathartic about just unloading all of your vitriol on a Sim, you know? And it was definitely a challenge and definitely out of my comfort zone. I'll have to keep trying until I make a male Sim (other than Roman and Aiden) that I'm happy with.

This was a learning experience for sure.

Piece of shit.

#sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 gameplay #mine #adventures in cas #sims 3 cas #*breathes into a paper bag*#i'm fine everything's fine #gif warning

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shadowdaddies · 7 months

Note

I love your writing so so so much!! If you’re taking requests, can I please request a modern Cassian x reader where they were dating but broke up for whatever reason? Maybe something where they’re still very much in love but it’s obvious to literally everyone except for them so there’s just a heap of built up sexual tension and teasing/flirting and everyone’s like guys come on!

Hey lovey, thank you so much! This came out more fluffy than I'd anticipated but I can't help it, I'm a romantic. This is my first modern au so I hope I do it justice. Thanks for the request💜

It's Never Over

Cassian x Reader Fluff

Warnings: drinking, they play truth or strip but there's nothing saucy happening

Your breakup with Cassian was the worst of your life. It was more painful than any other, because he didn’t hurt you. There was no solace in the fact that you were better off without him, because you weren’t. The two of you were tired of disagreements and different goals for your lives, so you decided that you would be better off as friends.

You’d broken up two years ago now, but Cass remained one of your best friends. He was your shoulder to cry on, the one person who could always make you laugh. But you’d made your decision, you were just friends.

~~~

It was Cassian’s birthday, and you and Feyre were unloading the decorations and supplies from your car to prepare your apartment for the surprise party you’d planned for him. “Remind me again why Cassian’s girlfriend isn’t the one planning this party?” Feyre questioned you. Knowing where she was going with this, you sighed. “We’re good friends, Fey. They haven’t been dating long, so I wouldn’t expect her to plan a party for him. I texted her to invite her but I didn’t get a response so I’m guessing she has something of her own planned.” Feyre just gave you a noncommittal hum as she unbagged the decorations and set to work.

You were prepping the food in the kitchen when the door opened. You didn’t need to turn around to see who it was, because you heard Az’s frustrated groan as he made his way into the living room to Feyre. He called at you, “what were you thinking letting Feyre decorate? For an artist, your decorating skills are shit, Fey.” Feyre lightly hit him in the arm, laughing as she sipped her drink and watched Azriel “fix” the decorations she’d put up.

Feyre’s husband Rhys arrived soon with the cake, and other friends filed in. You got Cassian’s message on your phone letting you know he was arriving at your apartment to pick you up for what he thought was just a small birthday dinner. Everyone took their places in hiding, and when Cassian strolled through your front door, everyone yelled out “SURPRISE!”

Your friend Mor arrived late, running up to you and Cassian, yelling “mom and dad!” (as you two had come to be known among your friends) as she grouped you both into a hug before heading for the drinks table. The party got increasingly rowdy throughout the evening, and hours later you were sitting around the living room with Feyre, Mor, Rhys, Az, and Cassian playing truth or strip. Mor gave Cassian a sly look as she asked him what special plans he had to celebrate with his girlfriend. He turned bright red, fumbling for an answer and in that moment, your heart beat so hard you thought it would explode. You were happy for Cassian, he was your friend and deserved a great birthday, so why were you sweating at the thought of his girlfriend? Feyre piped in just then, “I must have missed her coming by tonight. I didn’t see her.” Cassian took a deep breath, “she broke up with me yesterday.” Mor, nosey as ever, pushed Cass further asking why. You moved to pinch her as a silent warning, but Cassian glanced where you sat beside him and you froze. “Cass, did I do something?” you asked nervously. No matter what your past was with him or how you felt thinking about him with her, you would never want to hurt him by coming between them.

Cassian glanced back towards the group before grabbing your hand to lead you outside. You didn’t miss Az’s smirk and wink at you as you followed Cass. “Sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong. She broke up with me because she can tell I still have feelings for you. I didn’t even realize it until she gave me an ultimatum: she wanted me to cut you out of my life, or she would end things with me. And I didn’t hesitate to break up with her. I would never choose another woman over you. You’re my best friend, and the reason I am excited to get out of bed in the mornings. I couldn’t be with her, I don’t think I could be with anyone as long as you’re in my life.”

Your head swam as you processed Cassian’s confession. Deep down, you knew you felt the same, but it was scary. “We broke up for a reason, Cass. We want different things, remember?”

Cassian brought his hands up to cup your face and whispered, “you are all I want. We can work together through any hardships. All I know is I want you by my side, through the hardships, through the lazy mornings, through the celebrations, I want it all.”

Your eyes welled up with tears of joy as you leaned up to kiss him. The kiss was quickly interrupted by cheering noises, which you both turned to see your friends all watching you from the couch, Mor chanting “mom and dad” as they all toasted to you both, celebrating your enduring love for each other.

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feelbokkie · 11 months

Text

여기 쉬어도 돼 (You can rest here)

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

**Requested**

Hello lovely writer! Could you do a prompt req with minho 2, 7 and 15 from the hurt/comfort prompt list where the reader gets hurt? I have a tendency to try to hide my pain/injuries. So it would really comforting to see minho’s reaction to his s/o doing something similar. Thank you ❤️

genre: hurt/comfort (literal), fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: Finally having a weekend to yourselves, you and your boyfriend Minho decide to go camping. Everything goes well until you get hurt. Can you keep it a secret or will you ruin the trip? (Title is a lyric from You can STAY)

pairing: bf!minho x reader

warnings: swearing, reader gets injured

word count: 1,641

“Alright, I’ll go get some firewood while you work on the tent.” You say as you reach for the small hand axe from the camping gear.

"If you wait a little bit, I can go with you." Minho says as he unloads more of the gear from the rented van.

"I got it, don't worry," You wink at your boyfriend before trying to leave again.

"At least take this," He pulls something from his pocket and tosses it to you. You manage to barely catch it, turning it over to reveal that it's a walkie talk. You give him a big smile before going on your way.

You and your boyfriend were taking some well deserved time off in the woods. He loves camping, and while you don't necessarily favor the activity, you'll take any chance to spend time with him. The past year had been busy for the both of you. You were busy with school and work while Minho was busy with a few comebacks and a world tour. When you two did have free time together, you mainly would do local things or just stay home. Now that he has a longer break before they start working on their next comeback, you two decided to spend the weekend away from all distractions camping. The odds of running into a fan are slim and there is a spot for Minho to fish, which he loves.

Nature isn’t necessarily your thing. Sure, it’s peaceful and calming, but you can do without the bugs and fear that a wild animal is going to attack you at any given moment. But the spot that Minho picked is beautiful. It’s quiet and covered with trees. Green for miles. You two brought a tent but you rented a spot that has a small cabin so if it gets too cold, you can run inside. You’re just glad that you have a place to use the bathroom and to safely store your food. The idea of sleeping under the stars is appealing.

As you walk you keep your eyes low, picking up sticks and small logs that are in your path. You put the small logs in a backpack you had and held onto the sticks. Hopefully you could carry enough back to the campsite so you won’t have to make a second trip later.

“Ah, Hannie,” You stop on your walk when you see a squirrel sitting on a stump, eating something.

You pull out your phone and try to take a picture so you can joke to Minho that you ran into Han. Keeping your distance, you tried to stay where you were to take a picture. The picture is too blurry and you have no choice but to get closer. You gently put down your backpack, hand axe, and sticks. You take small steps until you get close enough to take a decent picture. You quickly take the picture, not realizing that the flash was on. The sudden burst of light startles the docile creature and it charges towards you. You shriek and try to turn and run. Unfortunately for you, you trip over your backpack and briefly fly in the air before landing hard on the ground.

“Fuck me,” you mutter to yourself. The squirrel is no where near you, having retreated rather than attack. You slowly sit up, thankful you didn’t land anywhere near the hand axe. Sitting up, you dust yourself off before trying to stand up. You stand up, putting pressure on your right knee. Once you’re fully stood up, you shift more weight to your left leg causing a sudden pain from your left knee to shoot through your body. You bite your lip as you shift back to putting most of your body weight on your right side.

“Y/N, are you okay?” You hear Minho’s voice come from your bag. You limp to your backpack and grab the walkie talkie before he could worry.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m heading back right now. I wondered a bit far out so it’ll take a while.” You pull your backpack on and pick up the sticks and hand axe and slowly limp towards the campsite.

“Okay, just be careful.” It’s too late for that. You have medicine and a first aid kit back at the cabin. Minho can’t know you’re hurt. If he finds out, he’s going to want to go home to take care of you, ruining your trip. It’s probably just a sprain anyway, you can manage with that. You’re just camping so you can spend most of your time sitting and relaxing. You should be fine by the time you have to go home.

***

You were not fine. The pain was not going away. Medicine was no longer helping either, you’ve woken up a few times in the middle of the night in paint. Minho didn’t seem to notice, he’d be all over you if he did.

Luckily, after two miserable days, you were finally heading home. Unluckily, the car was at least a mile away from the campsite. You took a pain pill while you and Minho were packing everything up, but every step still sent electrifying pain through your body.

Pop!

You step on a large rock to get down to a lower level of the path just as your knee gives out, making you crash down with a loud thud. Minho turns around to see what your dropped and panics when he sees you on the ground.

“Y/N, what happened?” He rushes towards you and tries to help you up.

“Nothing, I just tripped on a rock.” You take his hand let him pull you up.

He pulls you to your feet with a swift yank. You put even weight on both your legs out of habit. You let out a yelp as you go down again, the pain in your knee now unbearable and excruciating.

“There’s noway that’s from tripping over a rock. What happened?” Minho kneels down and swipes a thumb across your cheek, wiping a tear that was now falling from your eyes.

“It’s nothing. I just tripped.” You choked. You should be able to tell him what happened now, but you know he’ll feel bad if he knew you got hurt days ago and kept it a secret for his sake.

“If you don’t tell me what happened, how am I supposed to help?” He snaps, terrified of how badly you could be hurt if you’ve been reduced to tears. You hesitate for a few minutes before sighing. It’s a fight you know you are going to lose.

“I almost got attacked by a squirrel a couple of days ago and tripped over my backpack.”

“Show me where it hurts. Your ankle?”

“No, my left knee. But when I fell this time I heard a pop.” Minho rolls up your pant leg, sweats because that was the easiest thing you could put on today. When get gets to your knee you both gasp when you see that your knee doubled in size. He blinks for a few seconds before he helps you take off your backpack and grabs all the things you were carrying.

“I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.” He says standing up with everything the two of you brought on the trip.

“Not like I could go anywhere." You chuckle, lightly joking. He shoots you a look to tell you that nothing about this situation is funny.

You sit there in pain for about 20 minutes before Minho makes his way back to you. He scoops you up in one fluid motion and immediately starts walking towards the car again.

"You're just going to carry me to the car?"

"It's faster,"

"But we're like half a mile away, maybe more." You weren't even sure how he made it to the car and back in 20 minutes in the first place. He must have been running.

"I'm fast," You sigh, giving up on trying to talk to him right now.

***

"This time," Minho says suddenly after the doctor leaves the room.

"What?" You sit up from your position on the examination bed.

"Earlier you said 'when I fell this time,' meaning you fell earlier without telling me." Minho is staring at you, blinking slowly

Minho took you to the emergency room where you two found out that you had completely torn your ACL and that you would have to have surgery in about 2 weeks. The last thing you wanted was to have Minho take care of you while you had and recovered from surgery. You're used to doing things on your own and not having to rely on anyone. It's how you were raised, and it's one of the things you tried to maintain in your relationship with Minho. He doesn't expressly say it, but he always tries to take care of you and only backs down after you tell him to stop.

"I--"

"Why didn't you tell me you fell?"

"Because it was just a sprain before. It was no big deal."

"It's a big enough deal for you to need surgery."

"I only need surgery because of the second fall."

"There wouldn't have been a second fall if you told me about the first one."

"I just didn't want to ruin the trip. You've been working really hard the past few months and I wanted you to enjoy the weekend we had together."

"Well now I'm going to look back on this as the weekend where I had a great time while you secretly hobbled around me for two whole days."

"I didn't hobble around."

"Y/N," He places his hand on your good knee, "you have to stop hiding when you're hurt from me. I'm your boyfriend, I just want to help."

"I know,"

"You have to let me in sometimes."

"Trust me, I learned my lesson." You kiss Minho's cheek and lean back on the bed.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 8 months

Text

City Slicker (m, allergies)

I present to you all: p0rn lmao. This is my first allergy fic in YEARS and it is literally just 2k of Elijah sneezing himself silly. It's a little messy, just fair warning. Hope you all (especially my allergy-hungry friends in my ask box) enjoy this - I certainly enjoyed writing it lmao.

cw: male snz, MESS

City Slicker

“What’s your favorite animal?”

“Greyson. I really am not in the mood to play twenty questions right now.”

“But I’m bored.”

Elijah sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other held firmly on the steering wheel of the van. “What are you, a toddler?” he asked, replacing his hand so both were white-knuckling the steering wheel. “Play on your phone or something.”

“I’ve reached the end of the internet. Can we stop and get Starbucks?”

“Greyson, we’re in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere. What do you want me to do, conjure up a Starbucks? You should’ve asked before we were out of the city.”

Greyson groaned loudly, living up to the toddler label his boss had bestowed upon him. “Great, so now I get to be bored and uncaffeinated.”

“I’m sure they’ll have some shitty folger’s or something when we get there,” Elijah said, prompting a loud, fake gag from Greyson. Elijah took a deep, calming breath in through his nose. “We’re almost there, you fucking brat.”

The event this weekend wasn’t one Elijah would have normally said yes to; it was a Farmhouse Retreat out in a rural part of New York State, and any town with fewer than a million people living in it tended to give him hives. Not to mention his irrational fear of farm animals – not that he’d ever actually seen one in person; the thought alone of a pig looking him in the eye was too disgusting for him to put into words. But, it was a paid event which was incredibly rare, and it was a celebrity getaway which meant buzz for the restaurant. Those were two difficult things to say no to.

Elijah’s phone signaled them to turn right, and when he did he and Greyson gasped in unison – this was no Podunk farmhouse getaway. The house itself was more of a farm mansion, twice the size of even the largest house Elijah had seen out in the Hampton's. The agriculture was meticulously kept, and the animals were grazing out in the tall grass – far enough away to escape any fear, but close enough to give the entire place a Fisher-Price-esque charm. Greyson whistled long and low as they parked next to the line of other caterer’s cars.

“Not in Kansas anymore, eh Dorothy?” the chef asked, yanking open the passenger side door and stepping out to stretch. Elijah couldn’t help but huff out a laugh as he opened his own door.

“Guess no – HTSCH!” Elijah wrenched to the side as he stepped out of the car. Clearly the air out here was too clean for his city-boy sensibilities. Greyson barked out a laugh from the other side of the van.

“Bless,” he called, pulling open the two trunk doors to start unloading their things. “I figured your systems would all start shutting down the moment you breathed in air that didn’t smell like piss.”

“Oh, like you’re any better,” Elijah said, starting towards the trunk to help his friend. “When’s the last time you chose to take a trip somewhere with no bar or coffee shop?”

“Obviously never, but I grew up in a shitty one-horse town,” Greyson said. “You’ve probably never even seen a cow in real life.”

Elijah’s face flamed, and Greyson howled. “Shut the fuck up,” Elijah grumbled, elbowing Greyson in the stomach and grabbing the decorations for their booth. Greyson doubled over with laughter, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted into the quiet farm air.

“CITY SLICKER! WE GOT OURSELVES A CITY SLICKER!”

“Greyson, shut up,” Elijah called, turning to face the chef. “People are paying to stay here, you fucking dickhead.”

“Alright, alright, sorry boss,” Greyson lamented. He pulled a few chafing dishes out of the back and hoisted them onto his shoulder. “Not my fault that it’s hilarious that your body hates fresh air.”

“It doesn’t – hhITZCH! TSHH! HTSH!” Elijah crushed his nose into his shoulder to sneeze this time, prompting another round of laughter from Greyson.

“Sure it doesn’t,” Greyson said, passing his boss to head towards the sign directing the purveyors to the massive yard of the farmhouse. “City slicker.”

***

Something was happening – he didn’t know what it was, but he did not like it.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Like, I know I was making fun of you before, but are you sick?” Greyson asked as Elijah buried his face in his arm for the fiftieth time that hour.

“HTSHH! Hh-ITZCHH! HRSHH!” Elijah wiped his running nose on his sleeve and cringed. He used his hand to attempt to wipe the sleeve of the watery mucus he’d left behind to no avail. “I’m not sick, I feel fine,” he said. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me – HTSHH!”

Greyson slowly raised an eyebrow, covered his finished food so it would stay fresh for the first guests’ arrival in thirty minutes, and leaned against their booth. “Lij, I’ve spent a lot of time around you – you literally never sneeze this much unless you’re sick.”

“Grey, I’ve been completely fine up until we got here, are you saying the fucking fresh air made me sick? Do you think I’m some sort of nega-Victorian child, instead of needing the fresh air to clear up my scarlet fever I need the sweet smell of street hotdogs and sewage? Hhuhh’ITSCHH-ue! TSHH! ITZCHUE! Fucking hell.” Elijah covered his face with a hand and looked desperately around for something to wipe it with. Grudgingly, Greyson handed him one of his kitchen towels. “Thanks,” Elijah muttered, blowing his nose.

“Y’know,” Greyson said, “normally I would say that yes, you are the nega-Victorian child, but I don’t think you’re lying.”

“Thanks,” Elijah said, rolling his eyes from behind the towel.

“For once.”

Elijah flipped the chef off.

Greyson laughed. “Seriously, though, have you ever been on a farm before?”

Elijah threw his hands into the air, annoyed. “No, Greyson, I’ve never been on a farm. Happy? Yes, I’m a fuckin’ liberal-elite city-slicking dickhead. Happy?” He sniffled lightly, post-tirade, his nose already itching again with the need to – to -

“HTSHH! HRSHH! Huh! TSHHH! HRSHH-uh! ITZCHH-ue! Huh!” Elijah pressed the back of his hand hard into his nose to stop the stream of sneezes – the other caterers had to be staring at him. He was sure of it.

Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing. “Lij,” he said, placing a careful hand on his boss’s shoulder. “I think you’re allergic to this farm.”

Elijah blinked back itchy tears. He rubbed his nose on the towel, sniffled lightly, and looked around him – at the animals he’d never been near before, the grass he’d only been around when it was perfectly manicured for a lawn or fake, the trees with their yellow pollen floating in the wind. “Oh,” he said. “I… I mean, I’m not allergic to anything.”

“Not allergic to anything you’ve been around before,” Greyson corrected, a shit-eating grin slapped across his face.

Elijah pressed two fingers into his itching, swelling right eye. “Yeah,” he said, taking in the allergen-ladled scenery. “I guess you’re right.”

Greyson motioned towards the back doors of the farmhouse, where throngs of people were beginning to head towards the booths of food. “I’d offer to ask the host for an antihistamine,” he said, “but I think it might be showtime.”

Elijah watched the crowd with a mix of anxiety and abject horror. This walk-around event was two hours long, and he couldn’t go two minutes without sneezing. “Fuck me,” he muttered, shoving the towel behind their booth and sniffling. “Hhh-! HTSSHH! HRRISHH!”

“Get it together, man,” Greyson said, unwrapping his food and setting out tiny plates. “It’s showtime.”

***

By the time the event was over and the guests had filed back into the farmhouse for whatever rich person activity they had planned for the evening, Elijah had quite literally sneezed himself hoarse.

“Dude,” Greyson said as he piled their things back into the containers they’d brought with them, “maybe you should go sit down for awhile.”

Elijah turned to the chef, rubbing his nearly-swollen-shut eye, and gave him the dirtiest look he could muster. “Sit where, Chef? In the grass that’s trying to kill me, or under the tree that’s trying to kill mehhh – ETSCHH-ue! ESHHH! HRTSHH-uhh! HTSHH! TSHH! ITZCH-ue! Guhh…” Elijah had given up the facade and moved from sneezing helplessly into his sleeve to sneezing directly onto the ground, hands braced on his knees so as not to pass out from dizziness. Greyson cringed as his boss wiped a string of snot from his nose with the back of his hand – this was about to be a long drive back to the city.

“I meant in the car, Lij,” Greyson said, not-so-subtly handing Elijah his last clean kitchen towel. The GM took it, grateful, and wiped his nose, which seemingly subconsciously turned into a long, congested nose blow.

“Fuck, sorry, my brain isn’t fucking working,” Elijah muttered, clearing his throat. “I can’t fucking stop – HRRSHH-ue! Snee – HTSH! HRSSH! ITZSSCHUE! Hhh!” Elijah cringed into the now-soiled kitchen towel, delicately wiped his nose, and folded it up. “You don’t have another one of those by chance, do you?” he asked, breath already hitching once again.

“Sorry, boss,” Greyson winced. “Last one.”

Elijah nodded, somber. “Yeah, I’ll go waii – huh… snf. Wait in the cah – HUHHITSZHH-ue! ITSSZHH-uh! Huh! HTSHH! HuhhhITSZZHH-ue!” Elijah once again turned away from Greyson to sneeze towards the ground. Each one sounded more desperate, more painful than the last. Greyson had literally never seen his boss so… well… affected.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” a voice from behind the both of them said. Greyson whipped around as Elijah attended to his nose. It was one of the other chefs, smiling in sympathy and holding a pink package. “I wanted to see if he needed some Benadryl. I mean, it’s not non-drowsy, but since the event is over I figured -”

“Yes,” Greyson said without consulting Elijah. “Yes, one million percent.” He took the Benadryl out of the other man’s hand and placed a grateful hand on his shoulder. “Thank you so much.”

The other chef laughed in earnest, took a peek over at Elijah, then regarded Greyson again. “I remember my first farm trip,” he said. Greyson bit back a laugh.

“Something similar?”

“You could say that.”

Greyson smiled and patted the man’s shoulder. “Thank you again. Seriously, here’s my card – stop by anytime for dinner on me. You just saved me from five hours of breathing in his fuckin’ mucus.”

The man laughed again. “Anytime,” he said, taking the card from Greyson’s hand. “And I think I’ll take you up on that. You guys in the city?”

“Lucky guess,” Greyson said. The other chef smiled.

“See you around,” he said, heading towards his truck. Greyson popped a pink pill out of its packaging and placed a rough hand on his boss’s shoulder. Elijah, obviously gearing up for another fit of sneezes, turned and saw, almost instinctively, the pill in Greyson’s hand.

“Oh thank god,” Elijah gasped, snatching the Benadryl and choking it down dry. Greyson snorted out a laugh.

“Now you really need to go sit in the car,” he said as Elijah wiped his raw nose for the millionth time.

“Wha - ? Why, what was that?”

“Benadryl, you pill-fiend,” Greyson said, showing his boss the packaging. “Can’t sneeze if you’re passed out.”

“At this point I would’ve taken a lobotomy if it stopped the snee – sneezi – HUTSHHH-ue! HRSH! HRSHHH! HTSHH! Hhuhhh… hh, hhh… huhhITSSZZH-ue!” Elijah, clearly too exhausted to even cover his mouth, just turned away and allowed the fit to happen, sneezes sprayed into the open, pollen-heavy air. He groaned and held a hand up to his streaming nose. Greyson sighed, took off his chef’s coat so he was just in a white cotton t-shirt, and handed it woefully to his boss.

“You owe me a new coat,” he said as Elijah, too exhausted to even feel shame, took the garment and held it to his face. “Now go to the car and go to sleep.”

“Yes, Cheehh – HRRTSHH-ue!”

#whiskeyswriting #snz #snzfic #snez #allergy fic #allergies #sneezefic #snzblr #snzfucker #snz kink #snz fet

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youcouldmakealife · 4 months

Text

LBTE: Jared (173-174)

In which we prepare for the end by going back to the beginning.

If you'd like to follow along, the series page is here.

Final LBTE the day after tomorrow -- the epilogue itself is tomorrow.

173. Lodestar

He’s already talking about taking next year’s rookies under his wing — taking them out for lunch, inviting them over to play video games, making sure they feel welcome.

Jared terrifying the rookies might put a crimp in Bryce’s rookie mentoring plans.

And — fuck, is Jared going to have to host shit? Jared doesn’t want to host shit. Letting people into his space sounds horrible. Hopefully they’ll get a pass, since there’s no way the team could all fit in their apartment, let alone significant others and kids. They had a few preliminary discussions about getting a house after they re-sign this summer, but no way is that happening if it increases the likelihood of Jared having to endure guests.

Refusing to buy a house solely so no one makes him host anything is the most Jared thing possible.

You’re co-hosting a wine night with me he receives from Stephen, who continues to have the uncanny ability to say the thing that Jared would like to hear least. Jared guesses Gabe told him the news.

Wine nights happen when the Canucks are on the road. Jared replies, rather than ‘I would rather die’, just in case Stephen takes him literally.

Very smart not to tell Stephen your worst fears: he’ll make them happen. Also: you’re co-hosting a wine night with him. It’s inevitable. The rookies may fear Jared, but the WAGs will love him.

The Scouts are flaming out against the Kings, earlier than their typical Stanley Cup Final choking.

This is the Red Wings’ year. So Kings vs Red Wings in the WCF (yes, this 'verse shunted Detroit right back to the west when they finally thought they were safe), then Red Wings vs Lightning in the Finals. Sorry Seb.

Bryce is, but he’s been busy with other things — getting a crash course on what’s involved in wearing the A from Gabe, babysitting the Kurmazov spawn while Dmitry and Oksana pack up their own place for the offseason, bringing some of their extra food over to Elaine’s, and somehow coming home with more shit than he left with, though thankfully all the childhood shit Elaine’s unloading on him is nonperishable.

Seriously, Bryce is 100% living the dream. Mentoring, babysitting, hanging out with his mom.

In one of the boxes is a battered stuffed bear with a bow tie that Bryce greets like an old friend, and now sits with the minor Winnie the Pooh collection in the sulking room. He doesn’t fit thematically, but Jared figures he gets extra points for making Bryce’s eyes light up. His name’s Mr. Bear. Bryce was apparently not a creative child.

Because Bryce was Bear, the Mr. was included to avoid confusion.

“What’s wrong?” Jared asks.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Bryce says.

“Is it your shoulder again?” Jared asks.

“It’s not my shoulder,” Bryce says.

“Is it somewhere else?” Jared asks.

Jared is not a very good listener when he’s panicking.

He’s suddenly terrified Bryce is going to propose or something. Demand they get married again, but in public this time. Fuck, Jared doesn’t want to marry Bryce again. He embarrassed himself in front of enough people last time, and is frankly extremely grateful no video evidence exists. He can’t deny that he cried if there’s a video of him doing exactly that. Not that he’d cry, but—

You’d fucking cry, don’t start.

Also if Bryce knew he could make everybody hold a party for his relationship with Jared? On one knee in a second flat. So Jared will just…never mention the existence of vow renewals in his presence. And quit bugging Gabe and Stephen about when they’re getting married so Stephen doesn’t snap and mention it himself.

Bryce hasn’t shown any signs of stopping to breathe, but Jared doesn’t interrupt him, knows Bryce won’t be able to gather the threads back together if he does, and, more than that, that he’s nervous about this for some reason. Nervous about telling Jared this.

Bryce rambles when he’s nervous and when something’s really important to him. This is both.

Mostly he’s trying to figure out how Bryce did all this without Jared knowing. Like, Jared knew Bryce was keeping busy, but how did he miss a whole ass project? Bryce did financials? He talked to Marc Lapointe?

He had a lot of spare time. Especially during road trips. It wasn’t particularly difficult to keep it on the DL, considering.

“We started in like, January,” Bryce says. “I wanted to have like, a real idea before I told you, make sure I was still like, serious about it. And everyone says to do the research so, like, mom and I did the research. Gabe and Stephen helped too. Stephen was only like, kind of mean about it. Though he kept saying shit about my hair.”

“Babe, saying you have Disney prince hair isn’t an insult, I told you that,” Jared says.

“He says it like an insult,” Bryce says.

Because he’s offended that your hair just DOES that. Stephen is very vain about his own hair, he hates having a competitor.

(It does not just DO that, there is great time and financial investment involved in Bryce’s terrific hair)

“He says everything like an insult,” Jared says. “That’s just the way Stephen communicates.”

“He’s nice to Gabe,” Bryce says.

“Have you ever met anyone who isn’t nice to Gabe?” Jared says. “Even I’m nice to Gabe.”

Er. Nice(r).

But seriously, who’s mean to Gabe? Stephen will kill them.

“I wanted it to be like, fully planned out before I told you,” Bryce says. “You’re always so like — you always think shit through, you know? So I wanted to make sure I thought everything through first. And that took like, way more time than I expected it to. And help. This stuff isn’t like, my thing, you know? But it matters to me, so.”

Bryce trying to make sure he got ahead of every road block and set back so it would be perfect by the time Jared found out about it kills me a little.

“It isn’t?” Bryce says. “I mean, I know it isn’t, I just — you don’t think it’s dumb?”

“Of course I don’t think it’s dumb,” Jared says, and it kind of breaks his heart, how relieved Bryce looks.

Mine too.

“I just don’t want anyone thinking they can have hockey or love but not like, both,” Bryce says. “Like, I’d be a fucking mess without you, and I was kind of a mess without hockey too, and I just—“

Bryce going from someone who can’t even say the word gay out loud to willingly becoming the face of an organization meant for LGBTQ youth athletes — this boy.

“I can’t believe you made a secret club just so you could hang out with your mom,” Jared says.

That’s just a BONUS, Jared.

“I’m not—“ Bryce says. “It’s not a secret club!”

Note there is no denial about the hanging out with his mom part.

“You can join the club,” Bryce says, then, quickly, “But you don’t have to or anything. I know you’re not a joiner.”

“Obviously I want to join your secret club,” Jared says.

“Really?” Bryce asks.

“Duh,” Jared says, kicking Bryce’s foot, and Bryce kicks him back, grinning.

Jared’s evolution has been subtler, but of course he makes an exception for Bryce.

Bryce goes to grab his laptop with this jaunty little trot Jared doesn’t think he’s ever seen him do before, and he smiles down at his hands so he isn’t grinning at Bryce when he returns, just in case Bryce thinks he’s laughing at him.

Another evolution: Jared’s awareness of how easily Bryce’s feelings are hurt, and his efforts to make sure he isn’t the one doing it.

“We can take a break,” Bryce says quickly. Jared decides it wouldn’t be constructive to point out they haven’t actually done anything, form-wise. Certainly wouldn’t get either of them what they want, unless what they want is to be frustrated by bureaucracy.

Excellent work NOT cockblocking yourself with forms, Jared.

For the second time Jared gets to see the jaunty run. It’s a little dorky, but Jared won’t tell Bryce that. If he does, he’ll never see it again, and he’s already fond of it.

Jared getting to see parts of Bryce nobody else does, and being SO SO fond of them.

Jared decides to speed up just a little. If Bryce is going to put on a show, he doesn’t really want to miss it.

Like, yes, this is about sex, but also very much a dynamic that plays out across their relationship, which is great, because Jared doesn’t mind that Bryce is the better player/higher profile/bigger name. In fact, all the extra stuff Bryce deals with because of that is shit Jared is very glad not to deal with. But he loves getting to sit back and watch Bryce do his thing.

174. Starstruck (Redux)

There are so many callbacks in this part it might be easier to point out what isn’t one. One of the great things about doing this liveblogging (I reread the first 102 before I restarted this endeavour) — everything is very fresh when it’s time to wrap things up.

It’s also a really nice way for me to come to terms with finishing things — I get to go back and honour every part of the process, which helps, because this part always hurts. This series has been in my life so long it’d be a first grader by now, so it's been particularly hard to say goodbye to it.

It always feels a little strange now, travelling commercial. Well, strange is putting it nicely. Terrible. It feels terrible. Jared has had five hours of sleep and his Starbucks is burnt and his husband is wearing a toque indoors ‘so people won’t recognise me, J’. He looks ridiculous, and if his coffee’s burnt he can’t taste it, probably because there isn’t much coffee involved in that concoction.

Who says Jared isn’t a morning person (everyone who’s met him, and many would say he’s not an afternoon, evening, or night person either)

“You’re that guy from the Canucks, right?” she asks, inexplicably looking at Jared rather than Bryce.

Guess you should have worn a hat like your genius husband, Jared.

“My friends all think you’re really cute,” she says, then runs back to her group without asking for an autograph or anything, greeted with yells and cheers like she just scored them the OT winner.

She is a god among them.

“Don’t look so douchey in my hat now, do I?” Bryce asks.

“You still do,” Jared says. But he looks like a douche with a good idea.

Shoutout to the time Jared wrote a heartfelt card on his first anniversary that used the word ‘douche’ twice.

“I packed an extra,” Bryce says. “Just in case you changed your mind.”

Jared continues to underestimate how often they’ll be recognized, particularly in Vancouver. Bryce prefers to be prepared so he doesn’t have to take pictures and sign shit when he’s just trying to get a coffee.

Once the plane door shuts, Jared rips the hat off his head. “Is it fixable?”

“I don’t know how you can say I’m vain about my hair,” Bryce murmurs. Jared would tell him it’s because he is, but Bryce is fixing his hair for him at the moment, so it doesn’t seem like the most opportune time to argue.

Jared’s less vain about his hair and more vain about his so called dignity, and messy hair is not dignified. But then, neither is Jared, a lot of the time.

Training with you. I come back to Canada in June.

Absolutely not. Jared texts back.

Chaz and Raf already said OK. So did Arvan. So I’m coming.

Too bad Jared texts back. You’re not invited.

“What’re you so happy about?” Bryce mutters.

Julius officially in the crew and Jared is visibly delighted about it.

“Jared!” Bryce says, grabbing his arm.

There’s a few instances of physical communication between the two of them in this part. Big because it’s always in public/in front of others, and that’s something they’re only recently grown comfortable with.

“Did you know Julius was coming?”

“What, Julius is coming to train?” his dad asks. “That’s news to me.”

“I didn’t mention training,” Jared says.

“Shit,” his dad says, and Jared snorts.

Jared got his terrific lying skills from the best.

“Great,” Jared says. “Wonderful. I’m so happy to be home.”

“We’re as happy to have you as you are to be here,” his dad says.

His chirping skills are mostly from his mom, but sometimes Don comes through.

“Is that where Erin’s taking Bryce?” Jared asks.

“As far as I’m aware,” his dad says.

“Well,” Jared says. “Then I guess that’s where I’m going.”

These two. Two planets orbiting one another.

“I tell you I’m proud of you yet?” his dad asks.

“Not in as many words,” Jared says.

“Well, I am,” his dad says. “Proud of Bryce too.”

Look at Don growing too!!

“Me too,” Jared says. “Next season he’s going to — actually, I’ll let him tell you about it over brunch.”

“The charity thing?” his dad says, then, “Shit.”

“Oh for—“ Jared says. “Come on.”

Elaine got ahead of herself, she’s sorry!

Ashley has a ring on her finger. Grace doesn’t, but judging by Raf going red and hissing ‘shut up’ when Jared asks him about it, that’s changing very shortly.

Raf’s trying to find the perfect moment. Chaz did it in their living room and almost wiped out on one of Maia’s toys when he went to kneel.

“You're pregnant," Bryce says.

"No," Ashley says. "Okay, yes, but—"

Everyone had a couple beers (or spritzers) but her over the afternoon. Bryce noticed, Jared, of course, did not.

“To keep the numbers even we thought that maybe Bryce could be on my side?” Ashley asks. “And you two could partner up. But we don’t want to do that if you’re not—“

“Can I wear a suit that matches the bridesmaid dresses?” Bryce asks.

Ash and Chaz worried he’d feel emasculated, being on the bride’s side. And once upon a time he would have, but now he’s just hyped about a pastel suit.

“So it was Chaz you were hiding it from,” Jared says.

Ashley’s mouth flattens. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It is an excellent instrument,” Chaz says. “You’re just haters.”

If he plays twinkle twinkle little star on that thing one more time…

(And it is always twinkle twinkle little star. Because that is all he knows.)

Jared leans over to Chaz as Bryce and Ashley put their heads together. “Did you steal a toy from your own child?”

“We’re teaching her to share,” Chaz mutters.

Can MAIA play twinkle twinkle little star? No! It’s wasted on her.

Raf proposes, but only after weeks of making everyone around him miserable. To the surprise of absolutely no one but Raf, she says yes. Jared would be more smug about calling it if he hadn’t been the only one blindsided by Raf asking him to be his best man.

Just wait until Jared remembers there’s a speech involved.

Jared’s volunteered to help, mostly to make sure that Julius doesn’t mistake Jared telling him he’s not welcome, and explicitly uninviting him, for actually not wanting him here.

Taking Jared at his word would obviously be a mistake.

“Oh my fucking god,” Jared mutters. Bryce had finally gotten rid of the convertible when he left Calgary, and Jared had figured that was that, because Vancouver’s the opposite of a good place for one. Maybe that was naive. “You’re too old for that car! Also too young!”

Bryce gets out of the front seat, sliding his sunglasses off and tucking them into his polo. He looks like bad porn. Right in front of Jared’s parents, too. Jared glowers at him as he walks up the driveway.

Jared’s anti-convertible gripe turning into ‘how dare you look hot enough that I now want to ride in your dumb car’. In front of his parents, to boot!

“Nice looking car, Bryce,” his dad says.

Bryce grins. “Want to come for a spin?”

“Watch my pots!” his dad says, then literally jogs down the driveway to get in the passenger seat.

Don has dibs though!

Jared exchanges a look with his mom.

“Well,” she says. “It’s nice to see he’s finally gotten over his Bryce related car trauma.”

Growth!

It’s another half hour before Bryce and his mom come back. It doesn’t involve anyone shouting ‘what a rush’ as they come inside, so it’s more subtle than his dad’s return

I love Don.

Jared scoots over, and Bryce lies down beside him. They don’t fit. They never have, really, but now Jared has to put his back against the wall, tangle their legs together so Bryce doesn’t topple right off the bed.

Back in Jared’s high school bed. Every time they do it gets more and more cramped.

“I thought we could get some pizza,” Bryce says. “Sit around at a park or something. It’s a nice day for it.”

“You got a blanket in the trunk too?” Jared says.

“Maybe,” Bryce says. “Not a Flames one, but.”

This boy. This ridiculously romantic boy.

“Absolutely,” Bryce says. As soon as they get outside he jogs ahead. Jared’s about to ask him what he’s in such a hurry for before Bryce opens the passenger door for him, and then he just has to stop everything, take a moment and watch him, golden in the late spring light.

Jared’s still so gone for him.

“You coming?” Bryce asks.

“Yeah,” Jared says. “Yeah, of course I am.”

So gone.

#liveblogging the end

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