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#((I think her just chewing up the cake and then spitting it out was also suggested in the past
istumpysk · 3 years
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Operation Stumpy Re-Read
ACOK: Sansa II (Chapter 18)
My little lemon cake! 🍋 I’m sorry he keeps putting you beside Tyrion. 😞
Come to the godswood tonight, if you want to go home.
Do you want to know how slow I am? In the previous chapter Littlefinger tells Tyrion not to waste his time if the plan is to persuade Catelyn Stark to trade Jaime for Sansa. I thought that was evidence of Littlefinger miscalculating the familial bond between Starks, which will eventually be his downfall.
Silly me. He was kiboshing any plan that might involve Sansa leaving King’s Landing.
+.+
What could it mean? Should she take it to the queen to prove that she was being good?
Why is she so pure? 🥺
+.+
Nervously, she rubbed her stomach. The angry purple bruise Ser Meryn had given her had faded to an ugly yellow, but still hurt. His fist had been mailed when he hit her. It was her own fault. She must learn to hide her feelings better, so as not to anger Joffrey.
She blames herself! I’m going to cry. 😭
+.+
When she heard that the Imp had sent Lord Slynt to the Wall, she had forgotten herself and said, "I hope the Others get him." The king had not been pleased.
Bwah!
+.+
When a fire was blazing in the hearth, Sansa thanked the maid curtly and ordered her out. The girl was quick to obey, as ever, but Sansa decided there was something sly about her eyes. Doubtless, she was scurrying off to report to the queen, or maybe Varys. All her maids spied on her, she was certain.
Little baby Sansa is somehow leagues smarter than her father.
+.+
Once alone, she thrust the note in the flames, watching the parchment curl and blacken.
Because she got all her wits from mother!
Always burn incriminating notes.
+.+
Sansa did not know what had happened to Jeyne, who had disappeared from her rooms afterward, never to be mentioned again. She tried not to think of them too often, yet sometimes the memories came unbidden, and then it was hard to hold back the tears.
Fear not, she hasn’t adopted every quality from mom.
It’s good to cry.
+.+
Once in a while, Sansa even missed her sister. By now Arya was safe back in Winterfell, dancing and sewing, playing with Bran and baby Rickon, even riding through the winter town if she liked.
She’s dancing and using needle alright.
+.+
Sansa was allowed to go riding too, but only in the bailey, and it got boring going round in a circle all day.
Sansa’s been caged so long, she’s actually choosing to go riding.
+.+
Sansa threw a plain grey cloak over her shoulders and picked up the knife she used to cut her meat. If it is some trap, better that I die than let them hurt me more, she told herself. She hid the blade under her cloak.
Little details like this seem insignificant, yet are so indicative of who will be sitting on a throne at the end of the series. Her plan is to use the knife on herself, as opposed to hurting somebody else with it. ☹️
Also, side note, how stupid was that scene on the show?
“I don’t know how to use it.” “Stick them with the pointy end.” 🙄
+.+
When something brushed against her leg, she almost jumped out of her skin, but it was only a cat, a ragged black tom with a chewed-off ear. The creature spit at her and leapt away.
The black bastard is rubbing up on Sansa.
+.+
There was something wild about a godswood; even here, in the heart of the castle at the heart of the city, you could feel the old gods watching with a thousand unseen eyes.
…Bran?
+.+
Sansa had favored her mother's gods over her father's. She loved the statues, the pictures in leaded glass, the fragrance of burning incense, the septons with their robes and crystals, the magical play of the rainbows over altars inlaid with mother-of-pearl and onyx and lapis lazuli. Yet she could not deny that the godswood had a certain power too. Especially by night. Help me, she prayed, send me a friend, a true knight to champion me . . .
How hilarious is it that Sansa’s preference for the Seven really just comes down to the art and aesthetics? Bwahahaha!
In modern AU, Sansa picks her favourite sports team based on which jersey is the prettiest. 🥰
+.+
Sansa shrank back. "Don't!" She slid her hand under her cloak, to her hidden knife. "What . . . what do you want with me?"
(...)
Sansa found herself thinking of Lady again. She could smell out falsehood, she could, but she was dead, Father had killed her, on account of Arya.
Don’t sell yourself short, you’re pretty remarkable at smelling out falsehoods all on your own.
+.+
"Will you put away your blade?"                 
Sansa slipped the knife beneath her cloak. "Rise, ser."
Well well well. What do we have here? Is that new Queen Sansa foreshadowing I see?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Are you knighting Ser Dontos, Queen Sansa? I’m sorry sweetie, he’s no true knight.
+.+
He was shaking, she saw. "I vow, with your father's gods as witness, that I shall send you home."              
He swore. A solemn oath, before the gods. "Then . . . I will put myself in your hands, ser. But how will I know, when it is time to go? Will you send me another note?"
Am I enjoying the fact that we first learn about sacred oaths in front of heart trees in Jon’s chapter, and it’s later revisited in a Sansa chapter? Sure.
Ultimately though, this is just more shitty parenting from Ned. Of course somebody can lie in front of a tree, why would you tell your children differently? Not everyone shares your morals, you blockhead.
+.+
"You will need to be brave and strong . . . and patient, patient above all."
She’s already gentle!
+.+
"My Florian," she whispered. "The gods heard my prayer."
(...)
Home, she thought, home, he is going to take me home, he'll keep me safe, my Florian. The songs about Florian and Jonquil were her very favorites. Florian was homely too, though not so old.
Great news, she’s conditioned to anticipate a homely Florian. Jon’s got nothing to worry about!
+.+
He let go his grip on her arm, swaying slightly as he stood, stripes of light and darkness falling across his terrible burnt face.
Oh yeah? Stripes of light and darkness? Is that the nature of the Hound?
Shut up George, he’s 100% pure trash. Take your spectrum, and shove it.
+.+
A hound will die for you, but never lie to you. And he'll look you straight in the face.
You’re so wise, Gandalf.
A hound will do whatever you train it to do, dipshit. Like hunting down naked girls in forests, and eating them.
+.+
The Hound. "No, my lord, pardons, I'd never." Sansa averted her eyes but it was too late, he'd seen her face. "Please, you're hurting me." She tried to wriggle free.    
(...)
"And what's Joff's little bird doing flying down the serpentine in the black of night?" When she did not answer, he shook her. "Where were you?"    
(...)
You look almost a woman . . . face, teats, and you're taller too, almost . . . ah, you're still a stupid little bird, aren't you?
(...)
He was scaring her.
(...)
"True knights," he mocked. "And I'm no lord, no more than I'm a knight. Do I need to beat that into you?"
(...)
He cupped her under the jaw, raising her chin, his fingers pinching her painfully.
(...)
"Florian and Jonquil? A fool and his cunt. Spare me. But one day I'll have a song from you, whether you will it or no."    
I wish nothing but misery to this piece of shit, and the basket of deplorables that ship him with her.
Get a fucking therapist. Nobody cares to see your trauma all over the Sansa tag.
Final thoughts:
New Queen Sansa foreshadowing! ☺️
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writernomore · 3 years
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The Blood Ball
Please do not publish my work/ content to different websites and platforms, I only post my work here on tumblr and wattpad.
A/n: This wasn't Proofread because I had been tired and just wrapped this out after writing it on word, also to inform you guys that reader would use he/they pronouns.
Male!Reader
It was pretty much a normal day for you on the Dream smp, you had some minimal chores to do around your base before having to go do other stuff collecting resources for a big project you had been working on, it was a little party, you wanted to celebrate stuff with old friends and new ones where everyone can get along.
Adjusting your armor and such checking your bookbag which you filled with things that were certainly not books inside it if it was closed securely so that none of your things fall out.
Grabbing your axe you walk to your table to grab a list full of materials you needed to gather, you already did your farming and fed your animals and pets so you were okay and set for the day to go gathering materials for the party you were planning .
Going to the door you turn the knob and open it, raising an arm to shield your eyes from the sun, you were going to step forward when a letter was on your doormat, glancing around you don't find anyone.
He picked up the letter and examined it from the front of the letter and to the back of it, the back had his name written in cursive and there was a red wax seal on the letter.
Opening it they were greeted with an invitation, to a banquet.
Dear Y/n ,
We are here to inform you that you have been cordially invited to the Red Banquet.
We hope to see you there along with our other friends!
P.s. Please dress in red attire.
Your friend,
Badboyhalo
He put back the invitation inside the envelope and had pocketed it inside their book bag, and took note to look at their formal clothing later after gathering materials.
Y/n hadn't been hanging out with Bad lately or his friends from the Eggpire because he was suspicious of their actions, they avoided Bad because of Bad constantly trying to persuade and convince him to visit the egg.
They agreed back then but the following had happened wasn't very pleasant, they trapped him inside the egg and told him about how the egg wanted him on their side and how it already had a hold on him, He was trapped there for 14 hours breathing heavily and feeling the pressure of the walls moving and closing in on him.
Sam saved him after he found out Y/n was trapped inside the egg, Y/n was clinging on to Sam for dear life as if they let go of him the egg would get them again Puffy brought Y/n home while Sam had to confront Bad and the others about it.
Y/n now hated the sight of the egg or anything that included it.
He shivered at the memory and just went to close his door and went to gather some wood because they were running out on birch logs.
They also had to go mining for some more stone, and finally find a place to build where he would hold the party.
He would have to also go to the cow farm and gather plenty of milk to make cakes.
Taking out a note book he wrote down what he needed and how many of it he would have to get.
-------------------------------------------------
Putting down their bag on their table they went to their chest they had placed specifically for the materials for the party.
They also had gathered a bunch f sugar cane to make paper since they ran out of paper back then to make more books to write in, they always wrote a lot during free time and they had already filled about three books so it was about time they restocked on materials.
Taking the sugar cane they went to the crafting table and turn them into paper for the invitations they will send soon, it was nice that he was invited to the Red Banquet he needed a break from all the constant material gathering they did whether it was when someone asked him a favor or it was that he needed to let out some steam by focusing his tension on his pickaxe or axe trying to tire himself out.
Wiping sweat from his forehead he finished crafting the sugar cane into paper, placing the stack of paper on the crafting table he went to the straps of his armor and went to place it on his armor stand, he took note that he needed to start mending his armor since it was starting to be worn down.
Walking back to the crafting table he took the papers and placed them in his bag from his kitchen table, going to the cupboards he retrieved a glass and field it with water and took some potatoes out from a chest he placed them in the furnace and while waiting he went to his chest room to check on his materials seeing if anything needed of restocking.
Grabbing some wheat he went back to the kitchen placed down the wheat on the table and went to retrieve his potatoes and munched on them and drank another glass of water before taking the wheat and go outside to feed his animals before going to retreat for the night.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-*Day of the Banquet *-
Opening his eyes he groaned bringing a hand to run through his hair, standing up he went to fix his bed and go out to the kitchen to prepare something to eat then he had feed his animals so they wouldn't starve for the day while he was gone.
Going to one of his chests he took 2 eggs 3 pieces of bacon and took out some bread, going to the kitchen with food in-hand he took out a pan from his cupboard he placed it on top of the stove and started it, he cracked the eggs and put them on the pan hearing the sizzle of the eggs he placed the bacon along with the eggs, going back to the kitchen cupboard he took out a plate, glass and fork and placing them on the kitchen table.
Pouring himself some juice in his glass he took a bite out of his bread, taking the eggs and bacon out of the pan and placing them on his plate he placed the pan inside the sink.
Stabbing the eggs and bacon with his fork he brought them to his mouth and chewed his food while looking out of his kitchen window.
Finishing he also went to place the dish in the sink and took a sponge from it's container and went to turn on the sink to wash his dishes because he didn't like leaving his dirty dishes around because he was living alone, but sometimes the minors would come and trash his place after eating snacks and telling stories, long story short the minors saw him as of a big brother figure because he helps them alot especially when they get in trouble with the adults in the smp.
Kids would be kids you know? Someone has to look out for them.
Chuckling he finished up cleaning his dishes and went to grab a cloth to dry the dishes and place them down on a dish rack and wipe his wet hands with the kitchen towel.
Going outside the kitchen he went inside his chest room to grab some wheat for his sheep, yeah I guess I haven’t mentioned he loves caring for sheep did I? well now you get to know what animals he took care of all this time, he cared for all of his sheep like they were his children, like how Ghostbur had an attachment to Friend, why he chose to care for a bunch of sheep? He just thinks they were cute.
Opening the gate, he was greeted with the sheep going to him hoping for head rubs, he pets the soft fur of the sheep he made his way to place the wheat on the feeder as soon he finished placing it the sheep went eat the wheat, opening the gate he grabbed a bucket and filled it with water to pour water in the water feeder.
Closing the gate, he went outside the barn and went inside his house to freshen up, going to the bathroom he took his toothbrush and toothpaste and began to brush his teeth, his face had some scars from previous wars in the smp, Y/n was pretty involved with the war he always sided with the minors he made a promise to protect them and not let anything bad happened to them, not after the…accident, shaking his head he spits out the toothpaste.
The whole incident with Tommy being trapped in the prison and being killed by Dream made Y/n much more overprotective towards the younger smp members, he knows they can protect themselves but it’s just a constant battle with his instincts of making sure they were safe and weren’t harmed.
Gathering water with his hands he splashed it in his face and grabbed a towel to dry his face with.
After he went to take off the shirt he wore to bed and went to his bedroom and grab a black button up shirt to wear underneath his red suit, buttoning up he too off his night shorts and grabbed his pants from his closet and put them on.
He grabbed his red jacket and put it on buttoning the 2 buttons and running his hands through the clothes smoothening it out, grabbing his gloves he put them on and took his black earrings from his night stand, looking at himself from the mirror of his bathroom he ran a hand through his hair to fix it.
Examining himself he stuffed his hands into his pocket contemplating if this was really a good choice, he could bring something for a backup plan if anything went rouge during the Red Banquet.
The Eggpire shouldn’t be trusted.
Don’t go.
It’s dangerous.
The voices in his head were fighting with each other whether Y/n should go or not, shaking his head he looked back up to the mirror and turned on his heel and twisting the door knob opening and closing the door once he was outside.
Walking to where people would have to wait for the Banquet to start Y/n was fiddling with his black earrings, back then in the old days of the smp Y/n was good friends with the Dream Team, he hung out with them and the earrings he had currently Sapnap and Dream had them too, he didn’t know if they still had them since he wasn’t able to catch up with them.
Y/n hasn’t visited in Dream so long after what he did to Tommy because he kept his distance with him.
Arriving to the destination he saw Niki, Hannah and Puffy there along with Fundy, Eret and Hbomb.
Walking a bit faster he went to the group of people and greeted with a bright smile “Hello Everyone!” he said.
“Y/n! Well, don’t you look dapper today.” Puffy said putting a hand on her hip, looking down at Puffy Y/n gently took her hand and kissed the back of it “Puffy, looking gorgeous as ever.” “You Flatter me Y/n.”
“I see you went all out.” A voice said looking behind him Eret is there looking at Y/n with arms crossed and a smirk on his face “I see you did too.” “Looking stunning as ever, Eret.” Y/n went to do the same thing to Eret by kissing the back of their hand.
“Aren’t you a big flirt.” Puffy says as Y/n turns around and scratches the back of his neck.
“The Banquet would start shortly, now if you come with me…” Antfrost says, their attention going to him as people follow him down to where the Banquet would be held, there is a hallway where one room branches from it to the left where there is the coat room, Y/n sees Sam “Well don’t you look nice Sam!” He says.
“And you’re looking rather red today Y/n.” he says smiling to the man, nodding Y/n follows the rest of the guests to an open area.
It was all red…
R E D…………….
Shaking his head he looks around, vines coming up from the ceiling blood vines and all that but there is a wooden pathway that would lead to a dance floor, looking around they see the others chatting amongst themselves.
Turning around they see Foolish just coming out from the entrance they walk over to Foolish and greet him.
“Foolish! You look so handsome!” They say looking at Foolish with admiration in his eyes “Thank you Y/n! You look very nice too.” Foolish says chuckling.
“Shall we?” Extending a hand to Foolish they walk to the others laughing “Foolish!” Puffy extend her arms and hugged her son “Don’t you look dapper!” she says smiling up at her son.
After everyone had finished greeting each other they go over to the open area where there was a booth where songs were playing next to it there was a table with drinks, grabbing himself a glass Y/n downed the glass and hummed relishing the taste as the liquid goes down their throat.
Looking around they went to catch up with the others attending the party, laughing at patting George on the back for finally being in time and attending the party Y/n missed talking with George and they talk about how they should hang together just the two of them again some time like they used to back then when everything was normal between everyone before all the wars and explosions started.
"Y/n! You came!" A familiar voice says from behind them.
Turning away their attention from George they are greeted by Bad a smile slowly making it's way to his face he hugs Bad and he turns the gesture by hugging back pulling away he says "Ofcourse I would! It's been long since we all came together!"
"Well I see you're wearing all red." Bad says looking him up and down with the red suit he adorned for the evening "Yeah! Fortunately I had a red suit lying around for some reason." he says scratching the back of his head.
"Oh, George I told you to wear red!" Bad says placing his hands on his hips George could only shrug and laugh, shaking his head Bad chuckles "Well, I hope you guys are enjoying yourselves food will be served soon and we'll do a toast later on, just call Me, Ant or Ponk if you need anything have a good evening to the two of you!" Bad says before turning around and went to interact with the other guests.
*-*
Sitting on one of the chairs laid out along with the long table with plates and glasses, you sit next to Foolish the two of you talk about recent projects the two of you are thinking of doing and about the mansion Foolish was building for Tubbo and Ranboo, you told him to take breaks from time to time and not to exhaust himself while building.
Then the clinking of a spoon against a glass wine cup catching everyone's attention, all focused to the front of the table where Ponk, Bad, and Ant stood.
Clearing his throat.
"Friends, it is an honor to be here with you all today as a community."
Bad says with arms extending to gesture to everyone seated at the table.
"I wanted to invite everyone here to unite us as a whole, to unite this server amongst all the fighting and all the wars we are still a big family and see each other as such."
"And if anyone would like to say a speech please rise and say what you would love to say." Bad said as he took a seat.
“I guess I could go then.” Foolish said.
“Go ahead Foolish.” Bad says.
Foolish takes his glass and holds it on one off his hands “Well, for starters it’s nice to let by gones be by gones, and that sure you may have done some violent stuff back in the past and all of those stuff with the vines and uh..blowing up my summer home.”
“But! Here’s to being given the fourth fifth chance!” Foolish raises his glass and downs it, before sitting down as everyone raises there glass and clap.
“Will anyone else like to go next?” Bad questions.
“I guess I could go next.” Eret says standing up from her seat.
“Oh! Eret, go ahead,”
“So as the Monarch of this server it is awesome to see how the smp is being reunified again and see how we aren’t going to have to worry about fighting on opposing sides.”
As people clapped and Bad called on to ask who love to go next everything was muffled and a sudden ringing was inside Y/n’s head, he clenched his fist and closed his eyes a bit to try and soothe this pounding headache, but alas their effort to was to no avail, a voice started talking in their head, a voice they have not heard of before from the usual voices they heard of.
You really think he could like a person like you?
What?
You heard me
I don’t understand…
You poor thing, thinking that the person he holds close most would return their feelings in return…
What are you going on about?
You think Foolish would reciprocate your feelings?
How do you know about Foolish?
Let’s not go to the matter of how I know but of how I could help you with this situation of yours…
Why would I want your help?
I know you wouldn’t want my help but if you join me maybe I could help you with your love problem, just as long you joined me in the Eggpire….
No, Why would I do that?
……
I don’t want to help you or need or want you help either!
…Then it cannot be helped…
What do you mean?
As Y/n said that red vines were attacking them and restraining their limbs.
They went to scream but their mouth was soon shut forcibly.
Muffled shouts and pleas were landed on deaf ears as Y/n struggled to break free from the vines.
As everything went black for them.
*~-_-~*
As Puffy went to open the chest she had planned to fill with armor and weapons if anything were to go wrong during the Banquet she stared at the now empty chest.
“Oh, Were you looking for this?”
As Puffy lifted her head to look at Bad at what he meant, he along with Ant, Ponk and Hannah were wearing the armor she had stored in the chest.
“What?”
As in cue Y/n stood up from his seat and walked towards the group of four with his head cast down and faced them, Bad put a hand on his shoulder and smiled.
“I’m sorry Puffy, I had to tell them..” Hannah says smiling at Puffy.
“What? But-“ Foolish stutters “Y/n? you’re with them?” Foolish says looking in horror as he stares at Y/n.
As Y/n lifted his head gasps of disbelief and horror were heard, Niki places a hand over her mouth as everyone looks at their friend who now had deep red eyes and his neck had vines running up his neck.
Foolish sees as his friend was standing in front of him his eyes holding no emotion in them as if he was staring at the void their (s/c) had turned gray.
Letting out a shaky breath Foolish shakes his head and looks away because if he were to stare longer he might break into tears.
“You told them about the armor, Hannah?” Sam says.
“I had to tell them, it was the only way.”
Sam glances at his friend, they were perfectly fine a while ago what caused this to happen? Furrowing his eyebrows he mentally took a note to help bring Y/n back to normal.
“Time to go to the main eve-“ before Bad could continue he was cut off by Sam.
“Tragic you told them about the armor well, good thing I had another plan up my sleeve because I didn’t trust you.” Sam says glaring at Hannah as Puffy looks at Sam and nods.
"We can all agree that this whole thing with the egg has gone long enough, and I'm tired of all the fighting so why not blow the egg up for good?"
Sam says walking to the vines and lifting it up to reveal a lever.
The Eggpire watches in confusion on what Same meant.
“So why not blow it up with an amount of tnt that it cannot survive.”
Tnt comes falling down on the egg and start to blow up smoke covering the egg from the explosion but once the smoke cleared it revealed the egg covered in crying obsidian, the crying obsidian slowly fades and it reavels the egg unharmed, they stare in confusion.
Why is the egg still okay?
Why isn’t it blown up?
Bad laughs and says “Did you think tnt would work after that little stunt Quackity tried to pull?” “We took some planning and some preparing so that we wouldn’t have issues with the egg about tnt anymore.” He added.
“Y/n?” Puffy asked looking at him ecpectingly to react or say something but alas they were greeted with nothing just a hollow shell of their friend.
Putting a hand on Y/n’s shoulder Bad said “Don’t worry about him the egg would take really good care of Y/n, so you wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore.”
No please! Help me!
“Now if you would follow me, we could start the…Summary executions.” Bad says smiling.
He walks up the platform with Y/n following in suite gripping a diamond axe in one hand.
“What!?”
“No! What about the speeches man! What were they all about!?” Fundy asks.
“Those speeches were to lure you into a false sense of hope and security.” Bad deadpanned.
“You see in order for the egg to hatch it needs something and this something is we’ll be taking from each and one of you, you see the egg needs energy.”
“And that energy in particular is absorbed into the egg when people die near it and that is the roles you guys will be fulfilling!”
“So now one by one-“ once again Bad was cut off by someone.
“You’re a monster.”
“Excuse me?” Bad raises a brow.
“We trusted you.” Eret says clenching their fist.
“You are one to talk to about trust!” Ponk says angry at the person in front of them.
“That’s all in the past now.” Eret says looking down.
“I changed since then, I know better to not break other people trust anymore.”
Bad stares at Eret and open his mouth to talk “You know what? Eret, I think you’d be the perfect person to…sacrifice first!”
*~-_-~*
In darkness Y/n stood there bound in vines.
Watching as their body is controlled and is doing things they didn’t want to and had no will in what is currently happening.
Please someone…
…./n
…..Y/n..
Y/n!
Y/n gasps and looks up from their kneeling position they are greeted by two entities the one to the left was all white with yellow eyes looking down at him and the other one to the right was all black with white eyes looking at the vines constricting them.
Are you okay dear?
I..I think so?
Helos dear, can you help him with the vines?
I’m already on it.
Being freed from the vines Y/n looked up at the entity in front of him their hand outstretched which he gratefully took helping him stand up.
A shout was heard and they looked to see that a sword was being raised and lowered.
Wincing Y/n put a hand to his head trying to soothe his headache, how does he gain control to his body again?
We can help you with gaining control again.
Looking at the white entity he says “What?”
She said to gain control of your body from this red things influence dingus
The other entity says hitting Y/n upside his head.
Helos!
What!?
*~-_-~*
Gasping Y/n gasps desperate for air feeling his neck as if he was being chocked looking over at everyone they see Puffy with tears in her eyes and everyone staring somewhere.
Looking to what everyone was looking at they see blood and…Foolish’ body..?
Foolish’ body was slowly disappearing leaving yellow dust.
Furrowing his brows and his grip tightening his hold on the diamond axe “WHAT THE HELL!?” he shouts catching the attention of everyone in the room to see Y/n back to normal again.
“Oh! Hello Y/n, had a pleasant nap?” Bad asks him innocently.
“Hm no matter whether you’re awake or not from the influence we would go back to you once this is over ,now , who should we execute next?” Bad asks.
As Bad and the others were deciding who to execute Y/n loosened and tightened his grip on the axe and slowly backed away from the four shaking his head, he could feel the pounding sensation going on in his head and he can’t take it anymore.
Dropping his axe he sits down and puts his head in his hands, no one is going to trust him ever again.
A hand was placed on his shoulder and he was greeted with Fundy looking down at him with a worried expression “Are you okay?” he asks.
“To be honest? No, I’m not.” He says looking at Bad.
As he went over who they could kill out of nowhere Quackity came from a wall and landed in the room.
Quackity calls Bad’s name and tells him to stop.
“Relax Bad, Relax” Quackity says smiling at Bad “I know what you’re doing here, but stop right now, stop.”
“Oh my gosh, look at what you’ve done here, Bad this is impressive.” Quackity says looking over the room and the egg.
“You have to stop Bad.”
“Stop?” Bad repeats.
“This whole egg thing is getting way out of control, you just killed a man is this what you wanted? Is this what you wanted to do all along? Killing innocent people?” Quackity says putting on enchanted armor.
Bad scoffs “You think putting on armor would scare us away and make us stop? Why do you think we went through all of this effort?”
“All of this is for the egg and for what the egg could give us.” Bad says “ So don’t get in our way.” Bad growls.
“You can’t stop us because we’re to powerful.”
“Look at what you’ve done bad.” Quackity says gesturing to the whole room “You’ve trapped all these, these innocent people.” He says shakily.
“And what you’ve discussed as a party?”
“Just look at this Bad, What have they done to you?” “I’m telling you, you’re a pawn for power.”
Quackity rambled on about how the egg doesn’t care about him and that how it doesn’t mean anything, while the Others looked at the egg Quackity gives Puffy a golden apple and a netherite axe quickly hiding them in her inventory whilst Quackity talked.
“How about we stop playing games Bad?” Quackity suggests.
“I can’t you know I can’t.” “You’re not like this Bad.”
“If I stop, then I can’t have what I need.”
“The last chance Bad.” Quackity warns “You and your buddies drop your weapons, leave and let these people go.”
“Or what?” Antfrost asks.
“I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to Bad.”
“No.”
“No, How about you drop your weapons and prepare.” Bad says loading up his crossbow and points it at Quackity.
“Because Quackity if you wanted to stop us, you should have brought more than yourself, Quackity.”
Quackity’s grin widened and he let out an airy chuckle “Guess what Bad? I did. In fact I brought the next best thing, I brought my Biggest enemy.”
Quackity laughs “I’m not alone.”
“Alright Quackity where is this egg?” “It’s right here.” Technoblade walks in though the gap in the wall where Quackity had dropped in bringing along an army of dogs with him.
Y/n stared at all the dogs dropping in, and went to stand up steadily grabbing the axe he had set down but stopped when a hand was placed on his shoulder turning around with furrowed brows he sees Fundy looking at him and shaking his head as in telling him not to.
Which he behaved and just sat back down with a huff he couldn’t fight right now he needed to stop the headache.
“Not only that I crossed the entire lands looking for the best mercenary I could find, because guess what? I couldn’t take you alone so I got the two best fighter in the entire server to help me out with this, so Welcome him Bad!” Quackity cheers.
“What?”
“Purpled!” And on time Purpled had busted in through where Technoblade and Quackity busted in through not so long ago.
“What!? We hired you to take out Puffy and you joined the enemies side!?” Bad shouts at the young man.
“To be frank Bad, Quackity just had the better price.” Purpled says shrugging.
Bad huffs before looking to Techno “And Techno! You and Quackity are enemies, Why would you side with him?” Bad questions.
“Listen, I didn’t want to work with him either but this, this egg is going to far it’s warping peoples mind and it won’t stop till it influences the entire server.” Techno says before getting his dog off the magma block before it kills itself mumbling something to himself.
“And this egg stands for everything for everything I stand against as an Anarchist and if I don’t stop it now, it would be the end of the world.” He says before taking out his rocket launcher “So yeah, I’m working with Quackity.” Techno answers the Demon.
“No, We still out number you it’s 4 against – “ before Bad could finish that sentence as if in cue Puffy takes a strength potion and screams “Antfrost you’re dead!” before charging at Antfrost with axe in hand surprising him and the others “Puffy stop!” Bad calls out.
She swings her axe at Antfrost hitting him and went to hit him again but the clang of His sword coming in contact with the axe was heard, Puffy was quick retract the axe and killed Antfrost with the final blow with the axe to his abdomen.
It was then that Quackity shouts “Attack!” that swords coming in contact with each other wolves attacking and biting the opposing side and arrows being shot.
“Save us!” Fundy screams.
The Dogs went after Ponk and attacked him growling at the one armed man as Techno launched more rockets causing explosions of color “Bad! I’ve always told you that this egg brings nothing but trouble, trouble I tell you.” Quackity “I’m done with fucking games.”
“This is not going to end here Quackity.” Bad screams.
At this point Y/n had already stood up “Get him!” Screams Fundy, all he could do is look at his fox friend and sigh shaking his friend.
“Retreat!” Bad yells.
“What?” Y/n says under his breath.
They see that Bad had dug out a tunnel leading out to an escape route “What? No!”
People run up to the platform and to see the tunnel “Stay here, don’t go after them.” Quackity instructed.
“Purpled I want you to go ahead and track them.” Quackity orders Purpled.
“They’re not going to get away with this.” “Is everyone okay?”
“No.” Y/n deadpans “I don’t know, we just got lured into this place no one had no idea.” Fundy exclaims.
You rub his back and he just buries his head in your shoulder sighing in frustration.
A hand was placed on your shoulder and you turn to see Sam “Are you… doing alright? You in there and not being controlled right now ?”
You give him a tired smile and shook your head no, he nods and rubs your shoulder.
Purpled had returned and told Quackity that it was a Labyrinth down where they escaped “Shit, did we really just lose them?”
“I’ll build a prison for the egg.” Sam states.
“No, Sam there has got to be a way to destroy it right?”
“I’ll try to find another way but for now I’ll lock it up till I find a way how to get rid of this thing.” Sam says looking the egg up and down.
After Sam and Quackity discuss about containing the egg Quackity asks everyone if they’re okay.
“Hey, Y/n” He hums in response “You don’t look to well, your looking a little under the weather.” Quackity says looking worriedly at his friend.
“Yeah, just feeling a bit rough after being..” He stops talking and just gestures to himself by twirling his fingers around his head and points to the egg “Okay..uh just hang in there.” Quackity pats him on the shoulder “Well then I hope hanging by a thread counts.” Y/n jokes snickering at himself.
Leave him alone it’s how he’s coping right now.
“Okay, our objective right now is to get these people out of here, we’re going to get them out through where we came through okay everyone , Purpled you go ahead and lead these people out of here.” “Alright.” Purpled says.
As everyone was being carefully escorted inside the opening Techno, Quackity and Purpled entered through.
As they had finally ascended up to the surface everyone was so happy, having gobe out of that hell hole.
Breathing in the air Y/n looked up at the sky and decided to say goodbye to everyone and said they were going to head home to sleep.
Walking to the direction of their house they thought maybe they shouldn’t throw a party at the moment.
When his house was in sight he sped up and went to run to his home opening the door and slamming it close.
Looking around he took in the surrounding and quiet atmosphere he ran a hand through his hair messing it up even more.
He began to unbutton his suit jacket and take it off walking to his bedroom and plopped into his bed and buried himself within the comforters.
He was to late…
He wasn’t able to save Foolish in time…
He can’t let something like that happen again…
I couldn’t protect Foolish but I could protect others to prevent them from dying to the hands of the egg or anything that wanted to harm them, even if it costed his life.
Closing his eyes, he swore to protect the other people he holds dear.
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Again, sorry that this story isn't proofread I tried rushing this So I'll be able to get this story out as soon as possible.
Anyways, I intended to have had publish this a few more days later but I just decided against it.
Anyhow, If you like my writing why not consider and give me a follow and donate to my ko-fi? It would mean a lot to me! :D
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yikesharringrove · 3 years
Text
Show Pony
Chapter 6
Winds Change
Read on Ao3
-
Five days.
They had five days left together.
Billy tried not to think about it, but it was kinda hard to ignore.
Stalls were already being taken down, fair games being packed up into large shipping trucks to take across the country.
One of Max’s beloved funnel cake stalls had already met the way of the shipping container. She was pissed.
And yet, Billy and Steve did their best to pretend like the rodeo wasn’t coming down around them.
A perfect symbolism for their fling, or whatever, crashing down everywhere they look.
Billy spent days in Steve’s sweaty little airstream, brushing his fingers over that muscular body, calling him a hick and a horse girl and every other fake insult he could think of.
And Steve spent all that time lacing his fingers with Billy’s, winking at him from his place on top of one of his three gorgeous mares as he did victory lap after victory lap, roping calves in under ten seconds, slamming Billy against the walls of the airstream, adrenaline from the stunt still pumping through him.
The field saw them exercising Steve’s horses, taking a ratty blanket out there in the middle of the night to watch the stars.
And it was stupid, Billy pretending that this was more than just. A convenience.
Steve was on his knees, and Billy threaded his hands into that thick hair, tugging it this way and that, the way he’s learned Steve likes after some weeks of mewling whines.
Billy was backed up against the gate of the makeshift paddock, shielded by the prying eyes of the other rodeo workers by the long-set sun and the sounds of the day’s crowds filtering out of the grounds.
Steve pushed down, taking Billy’s cock all the way in his throat, breathing heavily through his nose, the nose currently pressed flat against Billy’s pelvis.
Steve was a champion at a few things: calf roping, horse riding, and dick sucking.
He pulled off Billy’s dick with a slurp, rolling his tongue along the head, humming slightly as he did. His eyes were dark, staring up at Billy, something like a smirk sparking in them as Billy fell apart.
He took a breath, ready to move back in and finish Billy off when there were footsteps.
“Steve! I gotta check Loretta’s hock.”
They both froze, Steve’s eyes going wide with shock, his lips still stretched around the cock in his mouth.
Billy had yet to meet Jim Hopper, the horse specialist that watched out for Steve’s three mares.
He guesses he was about to meet the man right about now.
Steve yanked his face off Billy’s cock with an unmistakable slurping sound that made Billy’s face go bright fuckin’ red. Billy fumbled with the fly on his shorts, and Steve took charge, roughly pulling the button closed and the zip up. It was a miracle he didn’t catch any skin with the quick action.
Steve was on his feet as Jim rounded the edge of the fencing, eyeing the two of them standing far too close, Billy’s face red and full of guilt. Jim raised a hand, his eyes closing as he breathed heavily out his nose.
“I don’t wanna know. Just let me take a look at your girl.”
Steve shrugged, acting like this whole ordeal was just another day at the rodeo.
Maybe it is, Billy’s brain supplied.
They were so fucking. Obvious. Billy could just drop dead right there on the grass.
Jim was a big dude. Beefy and broad, his face was clearly weather-beaten. Well, what of his face wasn’t covered with a graying beard and mustache. His left cheek pudged out slightly with what Billy realized was chewing tobacco when he spit casually at his feet.
“This is Billy. I told you about him,” Steve said with a smirk.
And Billy just about had a heart attack when Steve made a big show of wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, smirkin’ like the devil.
“Yeah, kid, I’m just here for Letty.”
The horses had been allocated to the horsebox for the night, as it was much warmer in there for them. Not that it was cold in San Diego at night, but still. Steve worried. Billy thought it was cute.
Steve led Jim off towards the box, clapping him once on the shoulder as he passed, making Jim groan and spit a dollop of yellow-brown saliva after Steve.
Billy felt like he was about to turn into some thick hot liquid shame when Jim gave him a bit of a once-over, raising one thick eyebrow at him. Jim’s mustache twitched, and he spit to the side before turning on his heel, following Steve to the horses.
Billy has never been more mortified in his life.
Steve’s mentioned Jim a lot. He always calls him Hop. Said Steve himself gave him that nickname. Billy has kinda sussed out that Jim is something like a pseudo-dad to Steve. The one to teach him how to really care for the horses. The one to teach him to properly tie a calf.
All the shit that Steve was made of, Jim taught him.
Billy had put together that Jim’s daughter was the one Max was scampering about the grounds with. Steve said he had adopted Elle when she was about seven.
His face gave something away when he said that. Making a look that said there was a story there, but Billy didn’t wanna ask.
It’s not his story to know.
Billy followed after them, keeping a wide enough berth from the pair that it was weird. He knew it was weird. But it was either this type of weird, or the weird of inserting himself into their conversation when Jim obviously knew what they had been doing seconds before he found them. Steve was about as subtle as a gun with those grass stains on his knees, wiping at his face like he needed to prove a point.
Billy lingered outside the horsebox.
Loretta had been lagging lately, and she startled whenever Steve laid a hand on her left leg.
Steve had just about sobbed when he told Billy he thinks she’s hurt herself.
Billy wished he had a cigarette right about now.
“Yeah, I think the poor girl’s just havin’ some inflammation. Probably tweaked her leg just right on the arena dirt.”
“Is she gonna be okay? What does she need?” Steve sounded more serious than Billy’s ever heard him. There was a weight to his voice that only reared up when Steve mentioned his father, a slight quiver in his words that made his anxiety palpable.
“She’s a tough one, Letty. Let her rest for about two weeks, only mild walking, and some ice at the end of the day wouldn’t hurt, either. We’ll talk after that and see if she needs anything more.”
There was something of a pause in the horsebox, and Billy held his breath, ignoring the fact that he was clearly eavesdropping now.
“You being careful with that boy?”
“‘Course I am.”
“Because I meant what I said last time. I’m not posing as your dad to get you an appointment at the clinic again-”
“ Jesus, Hop. I thought we agreed never to talk about that again, huh? And besides, I’m grown. I can make appointments for my own STD tests now. Plus, it was all fine.”
Billy nearly choked.
It’s not that he’s never had a scare before, and he and Steve were safe, but still.
“Good to hear, then. But you being careful ?” There was another silence from the box. One of the horses whinnied.
When Jim continued, it was with a much softer voice than before.
“I ain’t never seen you so attached before.”
The horse whinnied again, and Billy pictured Steve wrapping his arms around June’s neck and hugging her close.
“He’s under my skin now.” A scuff that sounded like Steve’s boot brushing against the hay-covered floor of the box. “First time I wasn’t ready for a fling to be over.”
Those words crashed into Billy’s gut, knocking all the wind out of him.
He suffocated on them, drowned in Steve’s melancholy voice as he said them.
First time I wasn’t ready for a fling to be over.
It stung at the same time it made Billy’s heart soar.
It hurt and it healed and it made Billy wanna throw up and lock Steve in his basement so he could never leave him.
Or maybe something less totally wacked-out and creepy.
“You know I love you like my own, but you gotta manage yourself. I ain’t judgin’, I just don’t wanna see you all hurt again.”
“Jeez, that was some real sappy shit there.” The mood shifted with Steve’s deflection, and Billy could hear footsteps leaving the horsebox.
He scrambled over to Steve’s little airstream, pretending he hadn’t been listening and freaking out over what he was hearing.
There was just. There was a whole lot to take in there.
Jim said he didn’t want to see Steve all hurt again, but also said he’s never seen Steve so attached before.
When had he been all hurt before if this was, in Steve’s words, the first time he wasn’t ready for a fling to be over?
And Billy didn’t want to hurt Steve, but it kinda, in a real shitty way, made him feel a little bit better that he wasn’t the only one ignoring the oncoming end out of sadness and a need to prolong whatever they had left.
That, and the added little bonus that Jim had once pretended to be Steve’s father to get him an STD test from a clinic.
Billy feels like he’s been punched in the face over and over again by that short conversation he heard. And he would know. He’s been decked in the kisser too many times to think about.
He leaned against the cold metal wall of the airstream as Steve came into view, Jim heading in the opposite direction towards the fairgrounds and the rodeo being shut down for the night.
Steve smiled at Billy, this soft, calm little thing that made the warm summer air even sweeter in Billy’s lungs and the words keep ringing through his head.
First time I wasn’t ready for a fling to be over.
He could see something in Steve, now that he knew what to look for.
How carefree and easy he seemed anytime he was around Billy, but those devastating moments when he seemed to bite his tongue against saying something more meaningful, or shied away from a briefly intimate touch.
Billy could finally see his own anxiety in Steve at their dwindling time together, and it broke his fucking heart.
Robin had warned Billy not to get attached. She told him Steve slept around and played the field and left before anyone could get in too deep.
But he wonders if Robin had warned Steve against the same thing. If she had told him that Billy was going to fuck and run. That leaving someone behind can sometimes hurt just as much as being left behind.
He hopes that if she hasn’t, she’ll be there for Steve. That she’ll pick him up and won’t let him break his own precious heart anymore.
“So, how’s Loretta?”
“She’ll be okay. Poor lady just needs some rest and some ice, and she’ll be feeling her best in a few weeks.”
Steve matched Billy’s stance, leaning against the trailer and tilting his face to the starry sky.
It was quiet out in the sea of trailers. Now that the spectators had all gone home for the night, the cheering crowds and amplified commentators weren’t reverberating through the open grass.
Instead, they could hear the rodeo animals that had been put in their nighttime areas. The many whineys and brays from different horses spread through the place.
The rodeo seemed so fucking magic to Billy.
Something like Heaven.
“I’m going soon.”
Billy doesn’t know why Steve said it.
They both knew that fact.
He thought they were both aggressively ignoring that fact.
“Yeah. You are.”
Billy didn’t know what to do with his hands.
He really didn’t want to have this conversation. Ever.
Because talking about it makes it real.
And God fucking forbid Steve breaks it off now and not in the allotted five days they still have to laugh and fuck and be free .
He pulled out his slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes, lighting one deftly.
Steve didn’t smoke. Said his grandpa died really horribly of lung cancer.
Billy knew this was going to be a serious talk when Steve didn’t make one of his usual snide remarks about Billy smoking.
“I just wanted. To be sure,” Steve trailed off, still looking at the spangled night sky. “We need to be on the same page.”
That we’re probably, most definitely, in love with one another but too stupid and too poorly timed and too tragic to say anything about it.
“I think we are.”
“Okay. Okay. Good. Because, I mean, I really don’t want to hurt you, and, like, our arrangement’s been the same since the beginning.”
Arrangement.
That word.
Arrangement.
It was a fucking ugly word for whatever beautiful thing they had between them.
Arrangement.
It made Billy feel cheap, and used, and so fucking stupid.
And feeling like that only meant one thing for Billy.
He got fucking mad.
“So, that’s it then. You’re done with me. Onto the next poor sucker in the next shitty town that’ll fuck you through the mattress and hold your hand until you decide you’re sick of ‘em. Great. It was so nice being your fucking whore. Thanks for the. Opportunity.”
He wished he chewed tobacco like Jim. He would spit a glob at Steve’s foot. Probably make it land right on those stupid fucking red cowboy boots.
Steve finally looked at Billy, his face scrunched up and those beautiful eyes of his looking somewhere between lost and hurt and angry and confused.
“Billy, that’s not what I-”
“No. No, Harrington, I fucking get it. You go town to town, and feed these fuckers a sob story about how hard it is for you to connect with people, and that you’re lonely and your dad sucks, and all this other bullshit. When really, you’re just an insecure asshole with intimacy problems who’s too fucking stupid to get a fucking GED.”
Fuck.
The second the words were out of his mouth, Billy knew he had gone way too fucking far.
Steve’s eyes flashed, and his face seemed to morph right in front of Billy’s eyes. He was closing himself off right where they stood. Getting ready to chuck Billy away and never see him again.
And Billy fucking deserved it.
“You’re calling me an insecure asshole with intimacy problems? The only friends you’ve got are coworkers that only pity you because they can see how fucking pathetic you are. You beg for scraps like a fucking dog and the second things get tough you ignore it, or get angry at it, like a stupid goddamn child . You think you’re so tough. That you’re the only one with problems . You’ve got your head so far up your own ass that you don’t realize that shit sucks all over, and that everyone is just as miserable as you are, we’re just able to fucking make something out of ourselves instead of wallowing in self-pity.”
Steve’s little speech left Billy feeling dumbfounded.
He was seething with a rage he had never felt in his life before. Anger at himself, and anger at Steve for being so fucking right. For letting all of Billy’s flaws and insecurities tumble out of his mouth like they were nothing.
He took a long drag from his cigarette, leaning forward to put it out against the door of the airstream, leaving a tiny circular ash print on the painted cow. It looked like a bullet wound on the poor thing.
It’s how Billy felt.
“I hope your horse fucking dies.”
It was childish.
It was so dumb, and childish, and Billy really doesn’t hope any horse anywhere dies, especially Steve’s three wonderful mares, but he’s feeling something he thinks he could call jilted, and he’s hurt and upset and genuinely at a loss.
He didn’t let Steve get another word in. Just turned on his heel, and left the little cowboy behind.
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justanisabelakinnie · 2 years
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My Ranking of the Madrigals’ Gifts!
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1. Now, obviously Isabela’s is the best, I mean, obviously! 
2. Luisa: Who wouldn’t want super strength?! 
3. Julieta: I would love to heal people but I’m not exactly the most nurturing of people, plus, I’m not really into cooking. 
4. Pepa: This one I debated with Antonio’s gift over for a while. Controlling the weather? Awesome! Badass! Cool! Rad! Fabulous! Only draw is that it’s tied to your emotions and I wouldn’t exactly be able to hide them if that were the case. I still think it would be great if I learned to control and embrace my emotions because of it, though. Plus, nobody would mess with me if I were the girl who could electrocute you if I got angry. And I could always just say it was out of my control, just my emotions! 
5. Antonio: I would’ve considered making this one above Pepa’s, small vice is that I’m kind of scared of animals. Especially dogs. But I put it as high as I did because knowing what animals really think would make me less scared of them. Plus, I could always send a shark or an alligator to kill someone if they irritate me. And it would protect me as well. 
6. All right all right all right all right all right...I know most people don’t like Dolores’ gift, and I understand and respect the reasons why. Hearing people have sex? Hearing people pee, poop, and masturbate? Hearing people’s hearts stop? The constant screams in agony, chewing, eye-twitching, and spitting? I understand. But if she can hear it all at once, who’s to say that she can’t simply tune out the more uncomfortable sounds? Assuming she can control what she wants to hear or amplify certain sounds, think of all the possibilities her gift possesses! There are so many ways I could use it! Aside from getting some good, juicy gossip, I could use my gift to blackmail people, or to alert people on something happening that they should be aware of. I would also know anytime someone’s talking shit about me. The best part about having Dolores’ gift is that I don’t even have to tell people I hear what they’re doing. I could just go up to someone who antagonizes me and tell them that I heard the embarrassing thing they did last night. Plus, hearing someone dying isn’t as bad as it seems, since I could always get help in advance. Maybe get some of Julieta’s buñuelos to heal them? Just a thought. Though mainly I just like it for the blackmail. IMO the worst gift is someone else’s... 
7. Mirabel and Abuela...don’t have gifts. I’m sorry, but they don’t. I guess being the candle holder/matriarch of the family as well as the glue could count as a gift, but those are just theories(albeit substantial ones) borne out of the fandom as far as I’m aware. They don’t actually express any powers, so I can’t really place them anywhere but here. 
8. Bruno: I mean, I don’t really have to explain this one, do I? We...we all saw the movie, didn’t we? Or at least listened to We Don’t Talk About Bruno? Yeah. 
9. And last but not least...oh wait, it is the least. The least desirable “gift”. And I thought Dolores’ gift was bad, but it turns out that Camilo really takes the cake. Or the arepa. Whatever. Shapeshifting is a curse. Seriously. If Camilo is any indication I’d have a life-long identity crisis from before I was even old enough to develop my own identity. I’d also forget what my face looks like and have to carry a mirror around. Not to mention shapeshifting would be physically and mentally exhausting, like...it helps(not) that everyone would just take advantage of my power and make me be someone else in order to help them with something, thus drilling into my mind unintentionally that I am only useful as other people and thus amping up my insecurity. The only advantage I can think of to having shapeshifting abilities is being able to use them to frame other people for something I did, and like Dolores’ gift, I could also worm information out of other people(and then transform back into myself to see their reactions if that information has to do with me, just for the shits and giggles). But that’s literally the only positive, I’m sorry. Camilo’s gift sucks, or at least, it would suck for me personally to have. 
Feel free to tell me your thoughts or if you agree or disagree, but do so respectfully! 
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tllthesundies · 3 years
Text
Anonymous said:
hi! i love the entertainment fic :) can you please write the part when they are celebrating louis’ birthday together, from harry’s pov?
–––––––
Harry hears the front door open, then close.
He remains indifferent as he stirs the small pot with pesto sauce in it to keep it from burning. He, also, keeps his eye on the boiling noodles in the bigger pot. But he’s listening to Louis’s footsteps and the jingling of keys in his pocket.
“Okay, rockstar,” he hears Louis’s voice, becoming louder the closer he approaches. “I know I take care of everything, and I recognise that you live in the middle of no man’s land, but I didn't actually think I'd have to include a lesson plan on keeping your doors locked. Things happen, even out here.” He pauses, and although Harry keeps his vision on the food, he sees Louis in his peripheral lean against the counter beside him. He’s wearing his jean jacket, some grey band t-shirt on underneath, and pairing it with boyfriend jeans. “I mean, it's California.” Harry can’t help sparing him a brief look, anyhow, quirking an eyebrow as he stirs the pesto. He doesn't respond to Louis. Louis watches for a moment before pushing himself away from the counter to instead lean his hip against it. He sighs. “What are you doing?”
“Making dinner,” quietly and casually replies Harry. He turns the heat for the spaghetti off. “I thought we could eat while we plan. Are you hungry?”
Louis nods.
“Haven't had anything since lunch.”
Harry glances back at a cabinet somewhere behind Louis and points to it. “Do you mind grabbing plates for us and setting the table? They're in that cabinet.”
“Yeah, sure.” When Louis disappears, Harry takes the pot to drain the noodles. “Do you want a specific colour?” he decides to ask Harry.
“Um,” hums Harry over the sound of pouring hot water and wet noodles being dumped into a strainer. “Honestly? I'm feeling teal.”
As Harry finishes draining the noodles, pours pesto sauce on them and mixes them, and finishes the vegetables, he glances repeatedly, briefly, at Louis. He sees him with teal and olive green plates and sets them up on Harry’s table. He, also, tries offering help, but Harry shuts him down immediately, each time, and sends him to just sit at the table. His hands shake just a little bit when he puts each food back into their respective pots–the ends of his nerves are on burning ice and he can’t make himself look at Louis for very long, if at all. He’s just on edge for the truth he hasn’t told him, but he takes a silent breath to clear his head.
“Most of everything,” Harry says, after he’s set everything on the table and gently plops into the seat beside Louis.
Louis blinks up at him.
“What?”
Spooning noodles onto his plate carefully, Harry repeats, “Most. You take care of most things.” He offers the spoon to Louis with a small smirk ghosting his lips.
Louis breathes out a soft chuckle, taking the utensil from Harry.
He shakes his head in reply.
He waits until everything is on their plates to take off his jean jacket. Harry watches him remove paper from inside a pocket, then hangs it on the back of his chair. Louis unfolds it, glancing up at him. “I don't know what you've got planned,” he begins, “or anything, but I made a list, anyway, to help jumpstart ideas. You know Calista, so, I kind of presume you know what she likes. But—just in case.”
Tentatively, Harry takes the list Louis gives him. He swallows as invisible as possible, and his eyes roam over all of the ideas Louis’s written down: Frozen themed - extremely popular concept still; Pink strawberry theme; Typical animal zoo theme; the birthday party concepts keep going on and on, and the longer Harry continues reading the list, the more those icy ends of his nerves burn more. It becomes overwhelming for his chest, and–he has to tell the truth. There’s too much devotion and dedication in this list to keep his façade going. Leaning back into his chair, he finally gathers the courage to look at Louis, and says, “This list isn’t going to be useful. Don't be mad at me.” Eyebrows narrowing, a puzzled look comes across Louis’s face. “I lied to you.”
The fork in Louis’ hand halts.
He blinks slowly at Harry.
“What are you talking about?” he asks. “Why am I here, then?”
For a split second, Harry’s confidence wavers. There’s a hesitancy he can’t help having, and one he’s not used to controlling – and as observant as Louis is, he probably sees the moment he wavers. And the controlling side of Harry hates that possibility. But he looks Louis directly in the eye, runs a hand through his hair, and speaks in a quiet voice. “It’s your birthday in just a few days. I—I wanted to . . . give you some kind of celebration to show my”–the words continue getting stuck in his throat; he has to spit them out, to warm them up–“. . . appreciation for everything you’ve done.” He pauses, to gauge Louis’s reaction. He looks–unsure; wondering; still confused, albeit a little more understanding. “Look, I’m not the best at, uh—expressing my feelings for people. Not that I have feelings. But”—he rubs an eye with his knuckle, becoming frustrated with himself—“you know what I mean.”
He took Rachel’s advice, but maybe he went too far this time. He lied to get Louis to agree to this. He lied because he didn’t know any other way to go about this. He doesn’t know how to just–outright ask someone such a simple thing like hey, I want to celebrate your birthday, would you like to come over? And it’s far more awkward because he purposely hasn’t been the most pleasant to the exact person he wants to celebrate.
He’s trying.
Probably in his own twisted way, but he’s trying.
And the silence from Louis stretches for far too long – to the point Harry gets uncomfortable. But he doesn’t show it.
“I don’t know what to say,” Louis says, after some time, words just above a whisper.
“Say nothing,” Harry chooses for him. “Consider this a . . . I recognise your hard work, Louis. You’re always on time, prepared, and organised. I’ve never had to tell you how to do your job, and that takes a lot of pressure off of me. So, thank you.” That last part stings his throat when it comes out. But not in the wrong way. “Again, consider this a congratulatory party for two. Nothing more.”
Louis stares at him.
“How did you know?”
“Résumé,” Harry simply answers.
A small beat of silence.
Louis narrows his eyes at him. “I never put my age or date of birth on any résumé.”
“Résumé,” Harry repeats, intentionally curt.
Harry’s not going to tell him from which source he acquired the information from. He wouldn’t blow Niall’s cover like that. Niall had questioned him plenty enough when he had called him. Why do you want to know? Niall asked, even though he had already given the information to Harry. I just want to be nice, is all Harry answered with.
He wasn’t lying.
“Fine,” Louis replies cooly. “Creep.”
Harry puts on an unimpressed look, staring directly into Louis’s eyes as he chews his food. After swallowing, he says, “That’s a big accusation coming from someone I could fire.”
Louis smiles, smug.
“See, that’s the beautiful thing . . . you can’t fire me,” he retorts.
Harry shakes his head, and he fights the muscles in his face that are around his mouth that desperately are trying to lift his lips at Louis’s reply. He can’t let that happen. His mind races with other topics to bring; with other distractions.
“Listen,” Harry says, “I have a cake for you.”
“Where?”
Harry shakes his head again.
“We have to make it,” he tells him.
Louis looks cautious. “What flavour?”
“Chocolate.”
A pleasantly surprised look crosses his features. “That’s my favourite,” he says. “Lucky guess?”
“You could say that.”
Dinner continues quietly. The ends of Harry’s nerves have started to warm up, evaporating the icy burn and replacing it with a normal temperature. His heart stops beating inconsistently and begins functioning like a normal human being. However, the same icy feeling starts to show itself in Harry’s mouth; words flow uncontrollably out of his mouth. Harry’s not a talker. He knows how to talk. He knows how to respond to people, and how to maintain conversation, but he doesn’t generally start the conversations unless he has no choice. Louis looks a little amused by him, but he does his best to ignore it. He, also, tries to get Louis to talk about himself, so, that he has some semblance of control over his mouth, but it doesn’t work.
Harry notices Dolly sauntering into the kitchen in his peripheral as he loads the dishwasher. She has her mustard yellow turtleneck on still that Harry had put on her this morning, her collar matching impeccably. She comes right over to Harry and peers into the dishwasher, but Harry scratches behind her ear as a warning before gently swatting her away.
She mews loudly at him, offended, she wanders over Louis.
Harry rolls his eyes at her.
“Look what you've done,” Louis speaks up.
Harry looks over his shoulder at Louis as he messes with the controls on the top of the dishwasher.
Snorting, Harry opens a drawer and slings a clean dish cloth over his shoulder before making his way over to Louis. “She's just mad I wanted to keep her from hurting herself,” he tells Louis. “She'll come around in ten minutes and act like it never happened.” He lifts a hand and gently caresses Dolly’s neck. But Dolly tries to hide from him by burying her face into Louis's armpit.
Louis laughs, surprised.
“Oh, no.”
Harry just puckers his lips and gives her an air kiss, and chuckles, smiling. “She always comes back.”
Louis bends his head and drops his gaze to Dolly. Harry watches the gentle way he rubs the top of her head and the rest of her body. He’s so much more familiar with her than when he had first met Dolly. He had been jumpy, a little scared. Now, they’re friends. Harry turns his head away and walks to the pantry.
“So, I've got,” Harry begins, and stops. He grabs the chocolate cake box he sees hiding on the top shelf, and stretches his arm up to get it. The matching frosting container is nearby, and he grabs it, too. He reads the back of it before continuing speaking. “Chocolate frosting. And”—he draws out the word until Louis rolls his eyes, telling him to get on with it; Harry's composure breaks, a grin breaking across his face as he stammers out his words because of his breathy laugh—“could you get the eggs out, please?”
Louis probably thinks he’s annoying.
It’s all on purpose.
Louis squats down to release Dolly from his arms. She jumps out of his grip, but remains by his feet. He washes his hands, first, then puts the eggs he retrieved from the fridge on the island.
Harry comes up beside Louis who’s reading the instructions on the back very carefully, and just dumps the oil, cake mix box, and frosting next to the eggs
Harry finds his measuring cup, and gives it to Louis to use for the oil and water. Louis asks him senseless questions; if he wants to do the eggs, et cetera. Louis has him sniff the inside of the cake mix bake to see if it smells good. It’s very chocolatey. And while he lets Louis do whatever he wants with the cake, he searches through his playlist to find music to fill the silence, so, he doesn’t have to talk too much. He finds Louis a bowl, a pan to fit the mixture into, and preheats the oven.
Harry sticks his finger in the bowl last minute, making a pop sound upon releasing his finger from between his lips.
“That’s really tasty,” he says.
Louis’s unimpressed.
“Tell me that when you get salmonella.”
“Can't wait.”
Louis shakes his head.
As they wait for the cake to fully bake, they work together cleaning all of the dirty utensils and bowls. They clean the island. Dolly stays silently crowding their feet. Harry can feel Dolly rubbing her head against his ankles, then attempts to climb onto his feet to lay down on them. Harry internally sighs.
“Look,” murmurs Louis.
Harry hears a smile reflecting in his voice.
He doesn't remove his gaze from the whisk he's washing.
“I know she's there. I'm ignoring her.”
Then it happens very fast:
Harry feels a small puddle gather on his feet and the bottom of his pants that cling to his skin. He hears Louis’s shocked laughter, but he doesn’t look at him as he breathes in a sharp breath to calm himself. Every fucking time.
“She—”
Harry's eyes close in pain. “I know. I wish I could say this hasn't happened before.”
While Louis’s still giggling and picks Dolly up from his feet, Harry excuses himself to go change his pants, then reemerges to find Louis feeding Dolly from the palm of his hand.
Louis looks over his shoulder at Harry, a single eyebrow raised.
“Better?” he asks.
“No,” Harry answers immediately. He pulls out the chair beside Louis, turns it around to sit backwards in it. He crosses his arms on the back of it, and gives Dolly an annoyed look that she ignores entirely in favour of the food she nibbles on in Louis's outstretched hand.
Still highly amused, Louis smiles, looking at Harry. “She's fine. Why'd she do that?”
“She does it when I'm absent too much” Harry explains. “In her cat mind, she thinks if she vomits on me, I'll be forced to clean up after her and take care of her. I don't know. Cats are—they have strange minds. I just think it’s only my cat because she has anxiety problems.”
Closing his parted lips, Louis shifts his gaze over to Dolly. She's trying to bite down on a hard piece she got. Harry watches them both. “Did you want to, like, watch something?” Louis asks, glancing briefly at Harry. “While the cake bakes?”
Harry nods.
“What do you have in mind?”
Shrugging, once, feebly, Louis says, “I don't know. Maybe a movie? Comedies are nice.”
Harry stands from his chair, and pushes it back in normally. “It’s your birthday; you get all the privileges of picking and holding the remote.” He walks past behind Louis and into the front room, and sits down in the left corner of his settee.
After letting Dolly tackle the last couple of pieces of her cat food into her mouth, Louis picks her up and takes her with. He tucks his left leg underneath his right one when he sits down on the settee. There's a space between their bodies that isn’t too enclosed to make Harry uncomfortable; and he averts his gaze to the television, so, that he won’t continuously stare at Louis in his peripheral vision. He can’t keep doing that. He can’t keep–looking at him more than he needs to.
It’s dangerous.
Harry places the remote in Louis's outstretched palm.
Louis shifts through channels for too long; and when he enters Netflix, he spends too much time reading each and every description.
“By this rate,” says Harry, breaking their long held silence, “the cake will be ready before you settle on something.”
Louis turns his head, tilting his head in a look. “Well, I'm not much of a TV person, to be honest,” Louis admits. “What do you recommend?”
“I told you,” says Harry, staring straight at the television still, “your birthday, your choice. . . . But . . . if you really want a recommendation . . . There's Something About Mary is a very good romantic comedy.”
Louis blinks. “What's it about?”
“This guy Ted — Ben Stiller plays him — wants to reconnect with his old prom date back from high school he had a massive crush on, so, he hires somebody to track her down and . . . it's, like, really messy, but what rom-com isn’t? It's a hundred times better than it sounds,” Harry promises him.
Louis seems to consider it.
Then he nods.
“Sure. Let's watch that.”
Harry looks over his shoulder at Louis as he stands from the settee. “You sure?” he asks.
Harry kneels in front of his small but wide bookcase full of DVDs. He quickly looks over every case until he finds the one he’s looking for. Turning the player on and popping in the disc, he returns to his spot on the sofa. Harry’s seen this romcom a thousand times, so, though he keeps his eye on the television, he doesn’t try to catch up with everything that plays out. Instead, he listens to Louis’s laughter, and distracts himself by dragging his forefinger across his lips for something to do. When the stove timer goes off, he jumps up to get it, and Dolly follows behind him.
“It's done,” Harry calls out. After he puts the cake on the counter on top of a dish cloth, he tests the idle with a toothpick. When he looks up to see where Louis is, he finds him by Harry’s walls of picture frames, cradling Dolly in his arms as his gaze roams. Harry decides to act indifferent and let a hard feeling pass through his stomach, and raids through his pantry to find the frosting. “Louis. Where's the frosting?” Harry feels Louis come up beside him a moment later. “I gave it to you. Where could it have disappeared to?”
Taking a step back, Louis stretches an arm out to open the freezer door. He reaches in, and then he closes it to hold the small container of frosting towards Harry, in the air. “Right here,” he says, wiggling it when Harry looks at him, gaze falling on the container. “I put it in the freezer.”
Harry pauses, lips parting. “Why did you put it in the freezer?”
Louis raises both brows at him in a way that the answer should be obvious. “Because room temperature frosting is disgusting? It's only good when it's cold.”
Gently, he tosses it on the island.
Harry's eyebrows pull together as he steps back and pulls the pantry door closed. “Uh—I hate to inform you, but frosting is good no matter what temperature it is,” he says in a vaguely defensive voice.
“Now you're just being gross,” comments Louis, looking briefly at Harry when he situates himself in front the cake, his lightheartedness subtle. Harry chooses to just busy himself with removing the cake from the pan, turning his back to Louis. “Oh, no.”
Harry turns around.
“What?” Harry asks.
He sets the plate full of cake beside Louis on the island and peeks at what Louis has in his hand.
Louis turns his body in an angle, towards Harry, and demonstrates the issue. Holding a knife in his hand to scope some of the chocolate frosting out, he goes at it — but he's stopped, and it's impossible to get any, because the knife is met with nothing but brick. “It's frozen,” Louis says.
Harry blinks a few times.
“Really?”
“Shut up,” he retorts. He glances around before walking over to a cabinet to retrieve a bowl. “Couldn't we use a microwave? Unless you're willing to wait an hour for it to thaw. I know I rather not.” Setting the bowl down, next to the frosting, Louis takes it in his hands and attempts to shake it out into the bowl first. Harry just watches him – and he pauses for a second, because he notices a small freckle on the upper part of the side of his neck. He’s lost count, now, how many freckles Louis has.
“I thought you hated warm frosting.”
“I do, but if we put it in for just a few seconds it won't matter,” Louis reasons.
Harry watches him shake it and realise that method doesn’t work. He proceeds to lay it upside down on the lid and hits it hard. Then he tries squeezing it before attempting to pry the container from the edges of the frosting.
The corners of his mouth tilt downwards in a frown.
“It's going to take more than a few seconds,” Harry comments, and takes the frosting from Louis. He bangs it against the edge of the island, the sound visibly startling Louis. The solid block of frosting falls right into the bowl Louis had gotten. Harry gives him a smile as he walks past Louis to the microwave that sits on the counter to the left of the refrigerator and slides it in. Harry doesn't take it out until it looks like it's thawed entirely, then pulls it out with a hot pad. Coming up beside Louis, he pokes his index finger in the frosting and sucks it into his mouth. “Not that warm.”
He pokes another finger in it.
Louis waves his fingers away from the frosting, and he uses the knife from before to taste it. The temperature appears to be okay with him, judging by the pleased look on his face.
“It's really good,” he confesses quietly to Harry. He puts his knife in the dishwasher full of other dirty utensils and grabs clean knives and forks to use and separate plates for Harry and him. “I don't want to put any frosting on it, by the way,” he adds.
Harry pauses.
“What? Why?” He pulls his eyebrows together in confusion, and looks at Louis instead of the cake. What kind of person doesn’t want frosting on their cake?
“I prefer to have it on the side and dip the cake in the frosting,” Louis explains. “It tastes better to me that way.”
For a few moments, Harry stares at him, and Louis stares back, a little challenge in his face. His assistant is weird. But he can work around it. So, he nods, saying, “We can do that, no problem.” Then he remembers: “Wait.” He walks over to a drawer a few feet from them and rummages through it until he pulls out two things: a large pack of single candle sticks, and candle numbers 2 and 7. “Can't forget these.” Harry sticks the numbers right in the centre, then surrounds it with twenty-seven of the fifty count of blue candles. It's a very crowded cake, and crumbly and has new cracks added into the old ones because of the force of all the candles. It’s ugly, in Harry’s opinion; the cake, the stereotypical candles, how bare and destroyed it all is – but when he lifts his head to look at Louis, into his blue eyes that have specks of green and grey, his chest eases. Stops. Momentarily. This . . . isn’t so ugly.
Quickly, he lights all of the candles. “Okay,” he says upon lighting the last one, and sets down the lighter. “Make a wish.”
Louis ends up staring at his face instead of blowing out the candles right away. He searches Harry’s face. And Harry doesn’t know what to do besides stare right back. Finally, Louis tears his eyes away and leans down, blowing out the candles. They leave a trail of smoke in the air and a very distinct candle stench that Harry hates. But Harry pretends, and chooses to clap him for and whistle. Louis laughs at him, something soft and something high that pulls at Harry’s chest. He starts picking the candles out of the cake, and Harry notices a soft tinge of pink colouring the apples of his cheeks.
Harry doesn’t know why, so, he ignores it.
Louis cuts the cake and gives the first slice to Harry, then gives one to himself. Harry suffocates his slice in frosting very carelessly. Dolly retreats back to them and tries to rub her face in the bowl of chocolate and what's on their plates, but Harry grabs her with both of his hands and tucks her underneath his arm. She struggles to free herself the entire time; Harry ignores it. Even when they sit back down on the sofa to continue watching their movie. Harry doesn’t see it coming when Dolly whips her paw around and slashes at his skin, causing a long and bright red scratch down his forearm. He lets her go immediately, pissed off.
He sees Dolly strut right into Louis's lap, and walks in circles before settling down to rest on his thighs. Her relaxed exterior pisses him off more.
“Are you okay?” Louis asks, concerned, eyes full of concern.
Harry’s jaw tenses. “It burns,” he answers truthfully, “but I’m fine. She's just in a mood today.” He rolls his eyes.
There’s a frown on Louis’s face when he glances down at Dolly, but he doesn’t say anything further. Harry chooses to suck it up and finish eating his cake while ignoring Dolly. The scratch thankfully never bleeds, as they finish the rest of their movie, eating the entire cake by themselves. Louis doesn’t finish the next slice he eats, but Harry has no problem eating the rest of it for the both of them.
Harry's licking the icing off his fork when he looks at Louis. The half piece of pure cake is still there on Louis’s plate. “What did you think?”
Louis's eyes flicker up at him, meeting his gaze. Breathing in a soft breath, he nods his head.
“It was good; I liked it. I love Cameron Diaz.”
“Me, too,” Harry admits. “She's very nice.”
“Have you met her?”
Humming, Harry nods once. “Met her on the red carpet at some award show. I think I have a picture.” Louis huffs out a chuckle. “Do you want to watch another movie?”
Louis stays silent for a moment, then shrugs and rests a hand on Dolly, whom lays sleeping in his lap. “Sure. But you pick this time.”
“It's still your choice,” Harry reminds him.
Breathing out a purposely heavy annoyed sigh, he says, “I choose you to pick the next thing we watch.”
“That's not how it works.”
“Sure, it is. It's my birthday.”
Harry stares at Louis, pressing his lips together. It becomes a staring contest between them. It goes on for several moments until Harry blinks and looks away. “I can't argue that,” he says, finally.
“Exactly,” quips Louis, as he gently drops the remote in Harry's outstretched hand, palm turned up.
They watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s, then when Harry turns on Meet the Parents, he notices Louis’s eyes start closing. He repetitively glances out of the corner of his eyes at Louis, watching him nod off until he’s sound asleep. Harry’s chest grows soft as he stares at Louis’s tired, pale face. His thin lips are slightly parted, like he should be snoring. Him and Dolly both sound asleep on each other is a rather humourous sight. He decides to leave Louis be and turns his attention to the television to watch the movie. There’s something . . . oddly comforting about the silence; Louis sleeping beside him, the hum of the telly, the filling sensation that encompasses the silence. It’s not so lonely–not so what Harry’s used to. By the end of the movie, he grabs his own plate and stands up, then does his best to grab Louis’s without disturbing him. But Louis’s eyes flutter open at the accidental brush of contact that Harry internally curses himself for. Louis straightens out his very tilted sleeping position, and looks up at him through squinted eyes.
Harry gives Louis a genuine apologetic look, and quietly says, “Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”
Louis delicately rubs his eye with the back of his right hand, and stretches his legs, breathing out a tired sigh. He blinks his eyes a few times to adjust. “It's fine,” he rasps. “Sorry I'm falling asleep.”
“Don't apologise,” Harry gently tells him.
He continues off to the kitchen. After scraping off pieces into the rubbish and rinsing off their plates, he lays them on the counter, then hesitates. The image of the gift bag still in the other room floats to the forefront of his mind. He looks over his shoulder at Louis, and finds him distracted by Dolly, and makes a quick decision. Harry speed walks to the other room on silent heels and grabs Louis’ gift bag, then makes his way back into the front room. Louis looks up the exact moment Harry approaches him, and the movements of his hand combing Dolly’s fur stop when his eyes fall down and spot a white bag in Harry's left hand.
“What ‘ave you got there?” His tone is careful.
Harry sets the shopping bag right in his spot, close enough for Louis to reach into. Harry sits on the edge of the settee on the other side of Louis, at an angle facing Louis, and he looks him directly in the eyes. “I thought I'd give this to you, before you completely black out on me,” he says. “It's not really a celebration without gifts, too.”
Louis pushes himself up to sit straighter. “Harry . . .” He looks at a loss for words – lips parted on nothing; uncertainty scaling his face and eyes; touching the bag’s thin, black handles like it’ll burn him. “You didn't have to get me anything. Dinner, movies, the cake, I'm perfectly content just with that.”
Harry presses his lips together lightly and nods. “I know,” he says, forcing his gaze to not leave Louis's. “But I want to do this for you. Don’t make me repeat myself; I’m not good with complimenting people. Just accept it.”
“Harry—”
“Fucking accept it,” he says.
Glancing between Harry's face and the bag, Louis touches it again.
He leans forward and peeks inside. It’s covered by black, decorative tissue paper, and Harry watches him use both hands to remove all the tissue paper.
He knows the second Louis sees it. He pauses, gaze unblinking and widening just enough for Harry to catch. He sees the backpack from Givenchy Harry had gotten him. That was . . . another thing he managed to get out of Niall. Louis’s allegedly been so back and forth about buying it for himself that Harry decided to choose for him. It was extremely easy to find, and even easier to buy. It was probably the easiest gift Harry’s ever had to shop for. But–he didn’t think it was enough; he had bought a bag of Reese’s, as well as wrote a check out for Louis and put that in the backpack for him. Maybe it would make up for everything, Harry’s hoping–maybe it’ll . . . Harry shouldn’t be hoping for anything, really. But after Rachel had a talk with him and made him feel like a shitty person, he’s hoping this’ll convey Harry’s guilt. Or apology. Louis might not recognise it as that, but that’s okay.
“Open it,” Harry instructs softly.
Louis quits just staring at the bag and unzips it. Suddenly, he looks up at Harry and smiles at him, face glowing in happiness. Harry can’t help the smile he gives him in return. Louis backs down and–a little laugh is pulled out of him. Harry’s eyebrow furrow, a little, in wonder.
“What's so funny?” Harry asks.
Louis pulls the bag of candy out to show Harry, without speaking.
Harry's gaze shifts from Louis to the treat, a confused but amused smile splitting across his lips. He . . . doesn’t understand. It’s candy. Harry shrugs like what about it? and Louis shakes his head in response and mumbles never mind. Setting the candy down beside Dolly, he grabs the check.
Louis scoffs, shaking his head as he begins to read it, and asks, “How much is this?”
But he abruptly stops, face falling.
“Five thousand dollars,” Harry casually answers, despite his heart picking up pace again. Louis lifts his head to look at him, but he doesn't say anything. Is it too much? Is it too forward? Did Harry cross a line? Maybe he was wrong for buying Louis his dream backpack and a check. But if he just stuck with the candy, then Harry would look like he put in the least amount of effort in. And this is the line he struggles with: either going too far, or not doing enough. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing,” Louis answers immediately. Then he releases a breath, knowing he’s full of it.  “This is too much, Harry.”
Harry blinks, then stamps on his racing heart and pulls out his detached face. “Louis,” he begins, stern, “don’t even start. That?”—he points to the check—“That is pocket change to me. We’ve gone over this. I have more money than I’ll ever know what to do with. I don’t see better use for it than for charity and for using it to buy whatever you want. Don’t feel bad about me using my own money. Eat the rich, or whatever they say.”
“Do you even know what that means?” Louis asks.
Harry pauses.
“Yes and no. But that’s a different conversation for another day.”
Louis blinks, breaking his gaze from Harry. Harry watches him closely, and waits for something. Louis’s face is concentrated; furrowed eyebrows, a far away look in his crystal clear eyes. He’s thinking something, and as much as Harry would love to get inside that pretty little head of his, he merely settles for waiting. Dolly comes poking through, however, weaving herself effortlessly and expertly through Louis's arms. She throws her arms up to cling to the opened backpack, and stands on her hind legs to peer inside. She stuffs her entire head in it, and it breaks Louis out of whatever it was, making him chuckle.
Harry just shakes his head.
Louis wraps his fingers around her legs to pull her back out of his backpack, but she clings hard. Harry  finds himself laughing softly at the image before him, and he intervenes quickly. He softly scratches behind Dolly's head, then transitions into wrapping his hands around her bottom. He picks her up upside down, successfully having Dolly let go.
Harry pulls her to his chest.
Louis's small chuckle turns into a giggle, and he shakes his head. He reaches for his phone on the coffee table, and Harry watches his face change to realisation.
“I have to go,” he announces.
Dolly falls out of Harry’s grip and runs away.
He looks at Harry.
Harry puts on an unreadable face. “You have to go?” he repeats.
“Yeah,” Louis responds as he stands up. “I have a flight in the morning. Remember? I have to get up really early, and triple check all my belongings. It’s a long flight, so, I’ll need some proper rest.”
“All right,” Harry agrees. He walks first to the door, with Louis following suit, after placing his backpack back into the bag, along with the check. “When's your flight?”
“Hm,” Louis hums. “I think 7.45 in the morning.”
“Harsh,” Harry comments lightly. He lifts his hand to rub at his neck a moment. “I hope it's good. Tell your mum I said hello.”
Louis nods. “I will. And I hope it is, too.” There's a slightly awkward pause, on Louis's end. But it doesn’t last. “Listen . . . I want to thank you for—”
Harry interrupts him.
“No problem.”
“You didn't have to,” Louis points out. He's clearly not going to let Harry wave it off. “You didn't have to do anything at all, but you did. I just want you to know that it's one of the nicest things someone's ever done for me, and that I really, really appreciate it.”
Louis looks at with the most serene face, conviction in his tone. It causes Harry to be temporarily weak.
“You're welcome,” he says in response, hands clasped behind his back for something to hold on to.
Harry doesn’t see it coming – Louis steps forward with confidence, coming into Harry’s personal space, and raises himself onto his toes to wrap his arms around Harry’s shoulders. Those icy nerves return alight and burn him. He’s paralysed for several moments; all he registers is the faint scent of floral notes reaching into his nostrils and brushing against his nose hairs. It’s not overwhelming; it’s the perfect aroma of flowers and fruitiness. Based on his own colognes he’s sampled and bought before, this one could be YSL – or maybe it’s ones he’s seen, such as Lancome. They carry a lot of floral perfumes. Either way, it’s very pleasing. And before he can think, he sneaks his arms around Louis’s small waist–it’s much smaller and slimmer than it looks–and spreads his fingers across the bottom of his spine and the middle of his back.
It’s only a moment later Louis pulls back.
Even though Louis doesn’t look at him, he can’t stop staring at Louis, completely dumbfounded.
“I'll see you in a couple weeks,” says Louis, smiling, when he looks up at Harry. “I'm a text and phone call away if you need anything, okay?” Louis raises a pointed eyebrow at him, giving Harry a look. “Don't hesitate, okay? I won't mind.”
Harry nods.
He’s not going to, but he’ll pretend for Louis.
“Got it,” he says, pressing his lips together.
The pointed look remains on Louis's face.
“I mean it,” he presses, to ensure his message is across.
Harry rolls his eyes and straightens out his posture. “I know,” he sighs. “I’ve survived nearly a decade without you, so, I don't think anything I can't handle is going to happen in the time you'll be gone.”
Louis throws his hands up in surrender.
“Hey, I didn't say you couldn't handle any one thing. I implied quite the opposite, actually,” he corrects.
Harry plays along.
“No need to rub my already swollen ego.”
Louis smiles, huffing out a small laugh. It’s the softest expression he’s ever seen on a face. It’s so caring. Harry doesn’t–understand how he can be so gentle. “Never happy with anything, are you?” he teases.
Harry smiles. “Nope,” he says. “Comes with being a perfectionist. And just being me, in general.”
“I see.” There's silence that falls over them like a blanket. Harry’s hoping Louis will take the cue and leave, but he stays. “What do you plan to do for Christmas?”
Harry blinks.
“I don't know,” he answers. “I don't do much for Christmas, really. I don't celebrate it.”
Louis raises an inquiring brow. “Because of religious reasons, or . . . ?”
Harry shrugs. He doesn’t talk about it with anyone. He’s certainly not going to discuss it with Louis. “Nah. Just don't celebrate it, that's all,” he answers, giving Louis a small smile that he knows doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Not even with your parents?” Harry shakes his head, choosing not to say anything more. With that, Louis drops the subject. “Don't forget to—”
“I'm kicking you out,” Harry says, tone flat, and a finger pointed to the door behind Louis.
He walks around him and opens it.
“You're kicking me out?” Louis repeats,, smiling and now standing so close to the door frame, as he keeps his gaze on Harry, whom now leans against the side of the red door, arms crossed and one foot hooked around the other.
Harry nods vigorously, eyebrows risen.
“Get out. Right now.”
“Fine, I'll leave,” says Louis, raising his hands as he walks out onto the stone walkway, “but not because you're threatening me; but because I want to.” He keeps on walking down the small set of stone steps and across the path leading to the driveway.
“Louis,” Harry calls out without thinking, just going on the feeling of restricted air in his chest. Louis looks over his shoulder, as his hand pulls his car keys out of his pants pocket, and his strides slow. He stares at Harry with patience, and it’s the last thing Harry wants to see in his face, because he won’t be seeing him for a while. “Merry Christmas. Happy birthday. Have a safe flight.”
Louis’s mouth curves up in a gentle, genuine smile.
“Thank you. Happy New Year,” he calls back.
Harry closes the door two-thirds of the way, not willing to let go of the sight of Louis quite yet. He needs to see him get safely in his car and drive away – he can’t let that feeling go. The restriction in his chest worsens when he watches Louis open his car door, but it eases slowly when Louis looks back. In fear of coming off creepy, he closes the door. But he stays behind it to listen to the engine start – to see the red lights reflect against the windows and the distant sound of his car fade until Harry can’t hear anything anymore. Then he turns around, inhaling a deep breath when his vision lands on Dolly sitting on her bum patiently by the stairs, watching him.
“Dolly,” he says – she tilts her head – “Am I too much?”
Dolly mews and walks off.
He’s always changing himself, changing his style, his image. He’s either always too much or not enough; there’s no healthy balance. Maybe he’ll try working on it in Louis’s absence, so, he doesn’t have to fret over it every time he says or does something he’s not familiar with. He doesn’t want to scare Louis off.
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45percenterthen · 3 years
Text
merry christmas @rambleoncas from ur spn fam secret santa !! sending all the love to u, ely 🥰🎄 i’m SO sorry this is late, pls absolutely yell at me i’m the worst 🙃 had such a fun time writing this tho, hope u love it ! <33
In which Sam and Eileen are not the comedy duo they think they are, a new board game is invented, and Dean and Cas learn a valuable lesson about the perils of ice skating. (2.7k, minor angst followed by ridiculous festive fluff, read here on ao3)
As a child, Dean picked his scabs. Forever scratching at his knuckles, knees, the scarred backs of his elbows. The rhythmic scrape and peel of it. Absentminded in the backseat of the car, or sitting next to Sammy in whatever run-down motel of the week, one eye trained on the door. A life built on rituals and routine; Dean was bound to form some of his own.
There’d been this one vamp in Des Moines, back in ’93. Towering beast of a guy. Dean was pinned up against cold brick in a dimly-lit alley, something sharp digging into the back of his knees and something sharper rising in the back of his throat. Better Dean be bait, of course, than some random civilian. But Dad wasn’t there yet. The guy was at full-fang, teeth inching towards his neck, and Dean was casting silent prayers skyward that Dad had killed the rest of the nest by now, that he was on his way, that this was all still part of the plan.
The vamp had roughed him up a bit, but Dean had given as good as he got, punching and kicking and spitting and punching, smart mouth working overtime to distract from the trembling of his hands. And then, finally, seconds from the precipice: Dad was there. His blade sung as it sliced through the thing’s neck, spraying blood and bone and gristle. And Dean was saved. Dad had grinned, clapped a hand on his shoulder. You did well, son. And Dean had looked up at him from where he’d crumpled to the ground, as if he could float up from the gutter on just those words alone. Let his head tip back to hit brick, lip split, face cracked with blood and pride. In the car back to the motel he was glowing, the compliment sinking into split, aching flesh like a balm. His hands were still shaking, though. Dean had tucked them under his thighs so Dad wouldn’t notice.
He wore his scabbed knuckles like a badge of honour, scratching at the welts in neon-lit diners, reaching out occasionally for faux-attacks on Sam’s fries. He’d wanted it to scar. Wanted to peel away at ruined skin until his knuckles were pink-raw and silvery. A souvenir of a hunt well done, of Dad smiling at him like he’d done something right. Of the four people they’d saved from the nest. Dad’s words rattled around his hollow insides like he could live off them the next few weeks. Scrape. Peel.
Twenty-something years later and Dean hasn’t managed to shake the habit. But as he walks into the bunker’s library, surveys the scene like an audience member of his own life, Dean thinks he’s managed to break a lot – a lot – of others.
“Check it out, Sammy!” He shoves bloodied knuckles in Sam’s face, smiles at him through a mouthful of gingerbread. “Think it’ll scar?”
Sam’s next to Eileen at one of the tables, two slices of cake in front of them, the sound of It’s A Wonderful Life echoing from tinny laptop speakers. It’s balanced precariously on some dusty spell-books, just as a bowl of popcorn is suspended between the armrests of Sam and Eileen’s chairs. Dean’s been watching the politics of the bowl’s positioning with great amusement; Sam’s previous attempts to tilt it to his own side have resulted in glares of ranging affection (and one shoulder-punch) from Eileen. The bowl was swiftly returned to original formation.
At the sight of Dean’s hand, Sam’s face instantly wilts, recoiling like Dean’s smacked him with it. Eileen winces slightly, signs ‘you're such an idiot’, smiling around a mouthful of cake.
“God, Dean, we’re eating–”, Dean smirks harder, crumbs threatening to overspill. “–you’re so gross.” Sam cranes his neck to make eye contact with Cas across the room, shoots him a grin. “Besides – that’s what you get for taking Bambi out on the ice.”
Cas leans back in his chair, head tilted, eyes narrowed suspiciously. One of Dean’s old flannels rolled up to his elbows. He regards Sam like he’s practicing spontaneous human combustion via telepathy.
“I have very little in common with an animated deer, Sam.”
“Only the coordination issues,” Claire chips in from opposite Cas.
“Whose side are you on?” She smiles sweetly at him.
Dean steals a piece of Sam’s popcorn (“other hand, dude!”) just to throw it at him. Waits till the Sasquatch’s eyes are fixed back on the movie, then signs ‘dork’ at Eileen, gesturing to Sam with comically-wide eyes.
She laughs. “Absolutely.”
Engrossed in the film, Sam loops an arm around the back of her chair, oblivious, and Dean walks back across the room, gingerbread in hand. Cas is sitting at the next table along from Sam-and-Eileen, settling back into observing – what appears to be – an incredibly heated game of UNO. Dean’s not sure it is UNO, actually, he’s certain he saw some playing cards caught in the fray. Monopoly cards too? Dean makes a mental note to start paying more attention to the quality of his thrift-store-finds. Regardless, Claire seems to have manoeuvred the situation to her advantage, no doubt convincing Jack and Cas that yes, actually, this is exactly how you play it. She’s chewing on her lip slightly, in way that could pass for concentration. More likely though, Dean thinks, it’s to hide a smile that says: this is like taking candy from a baby-God. The baby-God in question is sitting across the table, next to Cas, eyes wide and earnest, contemplating his nonsensical hand of cards with the focus of a laser-pointer. Dean hopes they’re not playing for money. Claire would clean up.
Dean smiles at Cas, hands him the plate of gingerbread. Reaches out with his uninjured hand to sweep a thumb over his cheekbone. He leans down to press an unselfconscious kiss to the centre of his forehead, and isn’t that a testament to how far he’s come. (From the corner of his eye, Sam watches the exchange. Sees Dean’s wedding band glint in the lamp light as he touches a palm to Cas’ cheek. Smiles to himself.)
Cas accepts the gingerbread, pats the chair next to him. “Sorry I skated over your hand, Dean,” he says woefully.
Dean, always Dean. Never babe, or honey, or something equally as cloying that’d have Sam choking on his granola. Just, Dean. He’s never heard his name spoken with such weight before. It’s like a code between them, like only Dean can hear that secret reverence, the adoration that Cas pours into the single word. A benediction, confession. A promise. At the risk of sounding self-important; Dean’s never loved the sound of his own name more.
“S’alright. Better story than all my other scars.” He points at his right shoulder through his Henley, knowing Cas has memorised all the skin underneath. “Vamp.” Left knee: “Shifter.” Left hand: “Crazed husband on ice skates.”
Cas rolls his eyes. “I did tell you not to lie down.”
Dean looks at him, scandalised. “It’s a well-known fact that star-gazing is, like. The peak of romance–”
“But I was still–“
“–but stargazing and ice-skating? You should probably, like, marry me, dude. Get me locked down quick, and all that.”
He drags the chair a bit closer to the table and sits down. Cas beams at him, eyes shining over these cute little round reading glasses they’d bought for him last week. “I believe I already have that covered.”
This time it’s Claire that rolls her eyes. “God, you two are ridiculous. Can’t you see we’re locked in tense gameplay here?”
Jack nods, palpably sincere, eyes still rooted to his cards.
“Sorry, sorry.” Dean pushes the gingerbread plate in Claire’s general direction in apology. Claps a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Who’s winning, then? Also, uh… what are the rules, exactly?”
He rests a hand on Cas’ knee, draws patterns on the denim. Listens as Jack gives a roundabout explanation of Frankenstein-UNO, how Claire is inexplicably winning every round. It’s weird to think of Jack as actual God now, not when he’s sitting here like this, turning over a Virginia Avenue monopoly card and expression immediately souring. It’s like he has this internal switch, able to toggle between normal-Jack and God-Jack when needed. In moments like these, it almost feels like nothing’s changed. But then he’ll get that glint in his eye, stand up a little straighter, like divine duty’s been injected directly into his veins. Teleport off, continue working on that ground-breaking heaven restructure he’s been talking about. Dean always says that he hopes they’re living it up, Bobby and Ellen and Jo – and all of the rest of them – in heaven-mark-three. That he can’t wait to see the changes. Then Cas’ll chime in, like clockwork. Not for another forty years, I hope. Dean wonders if they’ll get, like, coupons for the heavenly frozen yogurt places, or something. Being one of the unofficial fathers of God has to hold some clout up there, right?
In truth, Dean has some more questions about heaven, heavier ones that weigh on his chest. Lead on his tongue, back-of-his-mind whispers that louden at night. Ones he hasn’t quite found the words to articulate aloud yet. Who, exactly, will be there waiting for him, when he gets there?
Absentmindedly, Dean’s right hand moves to scratch at his left. It’s not at all scabbed yet, but the pain doesn’t really register. He’s just going through the motions. Scrape. Is it wrong, to not want him to be there? Peel. There is a monster at the end of this book. Scrape–
Cas catches his hand and Dean’s thoughts are halted in their tracks. He takes a breath. Cas’s palm sweeps over his knuckles, pulls at his wrist. Loops Dean’s arm around his own shoulders. The careful intensity of his gaze feels achingly familiar. Dean’s hand rests on Cas’ shoulder, now. Cas keeps holding it. Hand and gaze alike.
It’s like he has a permanent window into his thoughts. Dean wonders if it’s some celestial muscle memory, considering all that practice he’d had as an angel. So used to looking beyond Dean’s face, underneath the bone and flesh of it; seeing his soul itself shifting under his skin. Or maybe this is just Cas. Freakishly attuned to him in a way that transcends angelic powers and logic. Maybe this is just Cas-and-Dean.
He’s vaguely aware that Claire and Jack are still talking, arguing the merits and impact of a rogue nine of diamonds, when Sam announces a text from Jody. Apparently, the snowstorm’s eased a bit, and they’re good to hit the road again tomorrow. They’ll probably be at the bunker within a day or two.
Claire’s looking up from her cards now, the thrill of young love apparently overpowering the need to thrash your brother-God at Monopoly-UNO.
Sam aims a piece of popcorn at her. “She also said that Kaia’s really looking forward to it.” He launches it at her and she catches it, effortlessly. The slight flush though, high on her cheekbones, betrays her.
“Did you end up getting through to her earlier?” Cas asks.
“No – just dial tone. Must’ve been because of the storm.” She pauses. “Actually. If the snow’s died down a bit…” she glances at Jack, scoops her cards up into a neat little pile. “Fifteen minutes,” she says to him, grabbing her phone of the table. “I’ll be right back! Don’t look at my cards!”
Jack nods amiably, smiling at her like she’s just put an idea in his head.
Claire reaches the doorway just as Charlie walks in, towel on her head and hot chocolate balanced on her laptop.
“Lesbian relay race,” she says, deadpan, as Claire greets her. Claire snorts, manages to high-five her without looking up from her phone.
Charlie sets her mug down on the table, stealing a bit of gingerbread from Dean’s plate in one swift movement, grinning at him. No doubt she’s ventured out of her room in the hopes of being fed. She’s always first up on weekend mornings, seemingly able to hear the sound of Dean plating up pancakes from seven rooms over. Dean loves having Charlie visit.
“Two very important questions, folks. One: shall we all watch Die Hard tonight?” There’s a chorus of yeses, punctuated by Cas shaking his head at Jack. “Two: what is this monstrosity of a game and how do I play it?”
“Sit here,” Dean says, making a move before the ‘Is Die Hard a Christmas movie?’ debate can start up again (for the record, it absolutely is). “Jack’ll explain. Me and Cas need an eggnog top-up.” He taps Cas on the shoulder, nods in the general direction of the kitchen.
“Two-man job, is it?” Sam smirks at Dean as they pass by. He’s facing Eileen as he says it, so she too, can appreciate his unending wit. She giggles at Sam, raises an eyebrow at Dean and Cas. They’re an absolute double-act tonight, Dean thinks. This is probably the least attention they’ve paid to a movie since he finally sat them all down to watch Star Trek IV. Ingrates. He’s once again delighted that Charlie’s here.
Dean opens his mouth, ‘the best ones always are, Sammy!’ already forming on his tongue. Low-hanging fruit? Probably. Hilarious? Definitely. Cas glares at him though, and he glances at Jack. Somehow still the picture of innocence, even as he rummages through a hand of cards that he’s failing to pass off as his own. Dean closes his mouth. Sticks to a gesture of universal understanding that he can shoot at Sam, when Jack’s not looking.
When they finally reach the kitchen, Cas stops him in the doorway. He gently takes his injured hand and brings it up to his lips, kisses the palm.
“I hate hurting you,” he says quietly. He leaves the rest of the sentence stuck at the back of his throat; I can’t even heal you anymore. Dean hears it anyway. Crowds him into a hug.
“Honestly, dude, it’s fine.” He presses a kiss to his hairline. “Accidents happen. And it’s kinda hilarious.”
“Hmm.”
“It is. Next time we go, remind me to take you to an actual rink. That way you can hold on to the side with the other twelve-year-olds.”
Cas narrows his eyes, twisting in a half-hearted attempt to disentangle himself from Dean’s arms. Dean doesn’t let him. Lightly runs his fingernails over Cas’ forearms until he shivers.
“We can make it a Christmas tradition.” Dean looks upwards. Shifts them a half-step left. “And speaking of traditions…”
Cas follows his line of sight, eyes coming to rest on a tiny sprig of mistletoe taped neatly to the lip of the doorframe. He grins.
“Why do you think–,” he leans in, an inch from brushing Dean’s smiling lips with his own, “–I stopped us in the doorway?”
“Great minds, dude,” Dean whispers.
His heart soars ridiculously in his chest, like this isn’t something they’ve done a hundred, a thousand times before. He closes his eyes against the sudden rise of emotion and then they’re kissing, Cas smiling into it. Dean’s good hand moves up to Cas’ hair, curves round to stroke at the nape of his neck. Cas’ lips are soft, achingly gentle, parting easily for him. He’s got both hands cradling Dean’s face, like he’s holding him in place, trying to explain something to Dean without words. Using just the connection of their lips. They break apart after a while, breathless, and Dean presses a handful more chaste kisses to Cas’ cheek until he’s laughing, walking backwards until Dean has him pinned up against the doorframe.
Dean looks around furtively, then unbuttons the top of Cas’ stolen flannel, presses an open-mouthed kiss to the thin scar he finds at his Adam’s apple. This is a tradition too, now. Cas sighs, murmurs three words into his hair, and Dean answers with four more kisses down the hollow of his throat, one for each word of his reply. The eggnog sits, untouched, on the countertop and, honestly, this is turning into an accident just waiting to scar a family member. At the moment, though, Dean can’t really bring himself to care. He trails his mouth upwards to capture Cas’ lips, again, again, again, and the sound of easy laughter from the library sits light and buoyant in the air. Back in their room, a little vial of orphaned grace sits, forgotten and dusty, on the uppermost shelf of their closet. 
tag list:
@drriffly @cas-s-sinoatrial-node @seraphlm @itsinjustbeing @cursed-or-not@casandeans @dreamnovak @heller-jensen @joharvele @chaoticdean @dickspeightjrs @contemplativepancakes @oflosechesters @acabdean@aelysianmuse @yearningcas @murphycooper @casbelieves @tearsofgrace @footstepsontherun @adsdragonlover @half-dead-hunter @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul
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peachyteabuck · 4 years
Text
good behavior
summary: bucky has very strict rules for his little, doll. not only does this involve a rigid structure of punishments, but also an occasional, decadent reward. 
takes place in the same universe as old school (make me drool) but it is not required reading to understand this fic. 
pairing: bucky barnes x little!ofc
words: 2058
trigger warnings: heavy ddlg, heavy d/s dynamics
notes: this was done for @nsfwsebbie‘s birthday! she’s kind enough to write birthday fics for all us mutuals (including me!) and deserves something in return. i hope your next trip around the sun is even more excellent than the last! 
ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi
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Doll has a pretty pink paci in her mouth, a matching pink dress adorning her body with her hair folded into perfect milkmaid braids with bows the same pink as the rest of her outfit holding them in place. Normally she’s not as dressed up – Daddy prefers her in a simple onesie with her hair in two little buns high up on your head – but today is Bunny’s birthday party, and Auntie Nat had told all of her friends (including Daddy) that she would be taking pictures of all of them to immortalize the event, and she expected all of the littles to be dressed appropriately.
So Doll, clad in clothes she’s not used to, sits in the playroom with the other littles as they laugh and play away all the cake and ice cream and juice their caregivers had allowed them to consume throughout the long day.
Auntie Nat’s house is huge – what her and Bunny called a “playroom” acting as a giant space where the caregivers could watch their littles play with all of Bunny’s toys – an already impressive pile of stuffies and puzzles and whatever else she’d wanted only added to by the presents the other caregivers had bought her to celebrate her special day.
Doll’s Daddy’s house is about the same size, but there the playroom is a much smaller space where Doll is allowed to be alone, a single rocking chair there for when her Daddy needs to keep watch or wants to read her a story.
Auntie Nat also had a large pool they all had swam in (though Doll preferred to stay at her Daddy’s side, napping in the sun), and patio big enough for several large tables where they all ate and watched Bunny open her presents.
Now, though, everyone was inside, the littles playing on the ground while their Daddies and Mommies sat chatting on the large sofa in the playroom, one that was so large it fit against two walls instead of just one.
As the air cooled outside while the sun began to sink out of sight, Doll’s tummy begins to turn inside her as the loudness of the other littles ceases to wane.
She crawls over to where her Daddy is on the center of the couch, pulling on one of his pantlegs lightly to get his attention.
It works, the much larger man stopping mid-sentence to look down at her – his metal arm holding a half-drunk liquid only the adults are allowed to drink while the other rests at the back of the couch.
“You wanna go home, Doll?” he asks, voice soft and low.
Her Daddy pulls the paci from her mouth with his flesh hand, allowing her to speak. Doll nods, picking at the soft lace trim of her party dress. “Y-yes, Daddy.”
Her Daddy gives her a small smile, leaning down so he can pet her head (carefully, though, as to not mess up her hair) and give her forehead a small kiss. “Yeah, I know you wanna go home. Give me a few more minutes with Daddy’s friends and we can go, alright?”
She pulls her lips into a small, tight frown but doesn’t protest – something Daddy notices immediately.
“Do you want to stay here at my feet until we go, Doll?” he asks. He knows what he’s asking her is true – she’s always been awkward in social situations, never as outgoing as Princess or Peter. Even Bunny, though quiet, was able to be around the other littles for longer than Doll is (to be fair, it is Bunny’s birthday party, and her small body has consumed a simply incredibly amount of sugar throughout her special day – but still, Doll is nearly always the first to request to be brought home).
Doll chews on her bottom lip before replying. “Yes, Daddy.”
“She’s a sweet little thing, Bucky” she hears Uncle Stevie saying above her. “Trained her quite well.”
The others on the couch laugh, thinking of all the times the man’s Princess had pulled such bratty behavior she had to be spanked or reprimanded in one way or another in front of the other littles.
Despite the loaded compliment, Doll’s Daddy smiles down at her as she sits between his legs – protecting herself from the rest of the room. “Yeah, she’s my special little angel.”
He wraps the conversation up with ease, thanking Auntie Nat and giving Bunny one more “happy birthday” before carrying Doll to the car and strapping her into the car seat.
Unlike the rest of the caregivers, her Daddy plays no music as he drives home, knowing Doll prefers the silence after a long day of thunderous roar of all the littles together.
The pair arrive home without incident, with Daddy carrying Doll inside and allowing her time alone in her playroom to cool down from the experiences of the day. Her paci and shoes were removed with ease, her Daddy taking them away as he walked out of the room to wherever it is he felt he needed to be.
Her Daddy returns a few minutes later, leaning down with both arms behind his back.
“You were such a good girl,” Daddy tells her, now sitting cross legged across from her on the floor.
It’s rare for her to see her Daddy in such a context – though she doesn’t remember much of it, when she first arrived she was quite firey and refused to be broken. It took all of her Daddy’s might (and much advice from the other caregivers, along with time with the other littles so he could remember why he so badly wanted one of his own) not to give up.
And, of course, it was worth it. All of the nights in the basement and strict enforcement of his many rules molded Doll into the beautiful, fragile apple of his eye that she is today.
Doll says nothing, watching her Daddy with wide eyes as he – for the first time in recent memory – lowers himself to her level.
He clears his throat before speaking, his arms still behind his back. “I know it’s been a rough day for you, and I’m very proud of you, not just because you were so good for so long, but that you told me when you wanted to go home so politely…”
He coughs once more, trying to clear the awkwardness in his own voice. It’s certainly hard for him to be, in a sense, vulnerable; much easier to bring down his hand when Doll needs reminding of the rules than offering her something for remembering. Still, he does his best, and Doll’s wide wondering eyes urge him to continue.
“So I bought this for you,” he says, bringing his arms from behind his back to reveal a soft, plush arctic baby seal with an embroidered eyes, nose, and mouth (Doll doesn’t like the hardened facial features – always telling her Daddy they make the friends harder to cuddle). Its “fur” is a light, hazy blue – nearly white unless one has the sharp eye Doll does. Upon seeing the heinously cute creature, Doll gives a sharp inhale of excitement, whole body tensing as her eyeline locks on the present in her Daddy’s hands.
“I picked this up for you,” he says as he gives it to her, giving Doll a nod, permission to grab at the gift. “When we went to the aquarium with Natasha and Bunny. I saw you eyeing it when we passed the gift shop. Thought you’d like it.”
Even though she wasn’t asked a question, and therefore is not allowed to respond, Doll’s wide smile and how she’s got the stuffie in a tight hug tell her Daddy all he needs to know.
He watches her for a moment, enjoying her sheer delight while she babbles nonsensically while holding the animal’s soft face close to hers. Occasionally she leaves a small kiss somewhere, nimble fingers exploring the two-toned fur.
Eventually he becomes bored just watching her, though, so her Daddy moves closer to her, hand on her bare knee as she continues to play.
“I’ve got another reward for you, Doll,” he whispers in her ear, heat swirling in his stomach as he notices her body reacting to his. “Do you want to know what it is?”
“Y-yes, Daddy,” Doll squeaks out, gnawing on her bottom lip as she watches him loom closer to her.
“I’ll give it to you, Doll,” he says – voice low in his chest. “As long as you keep holding on to your new stuffie. You got that?”
She nods, voice barely above a murmur as her Daddy pushes her onto the carpeted ground. “Yes Daddy!”
He smiles as he pushes her frilly dress to her stomach, adjusting her legs so that her socked feet are planted on his thigh as he undoes the button on his slacks. “Good girl,” he tells her as one hand moves down to her center (Bunny’s birthday party is a special enough event to necessitate big girl panties). He rubs her, reveling in her small, breathy moans as his cock becomes harder against his dress shirt. “Now I need you to be quiet for me, so I’m gonna give you that nice paci you like.”
Doll’s always accepting of her Daddy’s stipulations for their play time together, welcoming the expensive paci he gifted her for her last birthday into her mouth when he pulls it from his back pocket.
He coos more praise towards her as he pushes a finger into her, feeling how wet, how desperate she is for him.
“You ready for me, Doll?” he asks, swallowing the spit that gathers on his tongue as he watches Doll with a sniper’s eye. She nods, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the stuffie’s fur. He smiles ear to ear as she does so. “Good.”
The anticipation burns at his skin as he aligns himself with her dripping core, easily bottoming out before giving her a few seconds to adjust to his impressive cock.
That’s all Doll gets, though, before her Daddy takes what he wants from – fucking into her pussy as she grips the stuffie with all her might, her loud moans muffled by the paci’s large, pink guard with Daddy’s Little Doll spelled out with circle, black-and-white lettered beads.
“That feel good, Doll?” he coos, arms bracketing her under his much large form. “You like it when Daddy makes you feel good?”
Doll’s eyes roll to the back of her head, jaw struggling to stay closed as she loses herself to the pleasure.
Her Daddy just laughs. “Oh, of course you do. Your Daddy’s little Doll, and Daddy always takes care of her toys.”
One of his hands moves down to the ever most sensitive part of her, his callous flesh thumb making tight circles as her pussy tightens around his cock.
It’s a delicious feeling, one that makes her Daddy moan deep in his chest. “Fuck, do it,” he tells her, rubbing her even faster. “C’mon, make Daddy proud.”
Just as Doll always does, she follows her Daddy’s instructions; obeys his word to the letter, and reaches her peak while her Daddy chases his.
His groans can barely be heard over her high-pitched whines now, caught in her throat but filling the room nonetheless, tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes and whole body tense as her Daddy continues to fuck in and out of her.
It doesn’t take long before he knows – before he pulls out to come on her soft stomach, narrowly avoiding the expensive faux fur as he paints her skin with streaks of thick white.
“Fuck-“ he hisses, jaw going slack with his whole body being held in the hair only by his hands planted flat on the ground on either side of Doll’s head. “Fuck you’re my best little girl.”
She looks up at him with eyes hopeful but tired, ready to fall asleep right then and there as she pants through her nose.
“Yes,” her Daddy assures her, picking her up to bring her into the bathroom so he can clean her up. “Yes, you always are and always will be my perfect little Doll.”
With that she falls sleep in his arms, allowing him to manipulate her into the bath as he washes away everything the day had brought upon her.
367 notes · View notes
yuzukult · 4 years
Text
effortlessly pt. 2 || jungkook & reader
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title: effortlessly pairing: jungkook x reader genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut (not in this chapter) words: ~3.0k notes: this fic might be longer or shorter than planned, i have no idea what i’m planning for this so...... yeah, figured i should drop something before i drown myself bc i have finals for my online summer semester ;u;
o young love, how i wish i could go back in time // also it’s not edited yet, i usually proofread about 5x because i have the worse eyesight and i read too fast :D series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue 
The chlorine from the school’s pool overwhelms your senses, triggering you to sneeze a couple times into the crook of your arm. “Bless you!”
Lifting your head to meet your gaze with the owner of the words, you see Jungkook standing before you, swimming cap in one hand and a towel in the other, tousling his hair dry. He doesn’t have a shirt on, just his bathing trunks that hang loosely on his hips, and you swear that if he wasn’t preoccupied, he would’ve seen the drool coming from the corner of your mouth.
“Uh, thanks.”
“You came.” He grins, plopping his wet body onto the bench beside you as you grimace at the water from his trunks splattering at you. “I kind of thought I scared you away earlier.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” You say, feigning ignorance. “You told me the other day you wanted me to come by after practice and here I am.”
“You know what I’m talking about. That ‘crush’ conversation.” 
You roll your eyes at him, pushing him away playfully. “I thought I told you it was Yura with the crush.” Jungkook shakes his head in dismissal, clicking his tongue in unison. “I’ve known you your entire life. You’re telling me that I can’t tell when you’re lying?”
“No, but—” He’s leaning close, his soaked fringe dripping onto your skin, goosebumps forming on your arms. “What?”
“Just trying to get a better read on you.” The proximity between you and Jungkook is small, so small that you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath the entire time until he backs away and you let out a deep exhale. “W-What for?” You manage to respond.
“What do you think about us... doing it again?” 
He’s not looking at you this time, hands running through his drenched locks, eyes never leaving the concrete ground. The question startles you. For one, Jungkook was being shy. He never seemed to hide things from you before but that assumption was proven wrong when you saw the girl he brought him the other day. Jungkook didn’t even hesitate to call you up when he just took the biggest shit or even when he picked the longest booger. Why was he suddenly acting bashful?
“... again?” You reiterate, hands clutching onto the bench. “You want to do what again?”
“Uh... sleep together.”
“Jeon, we always sleep together. I don’t understand why you’re being weird—“
“No,” he sighs frustratedly at himself, knowing his question was unclear while slouching over in his seat. “When I say sleep together, I meant have sex again. I feel like I fucked up our first time together and I want to make up for it.”
Oh. Was that all? After the incident, you’d been as emotionally intelligent as you could, pushing to the back of your mind the fact that you’re so in love with Jeon Jungkook and you’ve both had his first kiss and virginity— for him, likewise. How yes, these things were far from perfect but to you, it was perfect because it was with him. That’s all that mattered.
“You don’t need to make up for anything. It was good! You took care of me and made sure I was okay. Apparently, it hurts like hell but you made it bearable.”
“I... really want to try again. What if we try teaching each other so that when the time comes and we meet someone, we’re ready?”
By the time we meet someone. The words burned in your heart, hissing as the pain clenched your chest. You knew that you didn’t want to meet ‘someone,’ you just wanted Jungkook. Just then, the girl comes to mind.
“Is it about that girl?” Jungkook’s head shoots in your direction, brows crinkled in confusion. “What girl?”
You’re chewing your bottom lip anxiously, waving your hanging legs above the ground. “I saw you bring a girl home the other day. Is it about her?”
Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change for a moment before an ‘ah’ escapes his mouth with the memory. “You mean Dahyun? I’m tutoring her in my free time. I needed some money. What? Are you jealous?” His lips tug in a mischievous smile; he’s genuinely enjoying the way your face contorts into realization, his heart warm at the idea of you wary of someone else capturing his attention. 
“No.” You quickly mutter under your breath, a bit annoyed with yourself for letting your emotions get to you so quickly. This was Jungkook you were talking about here— the one guy who could pretty much land a date with any girl at your school, yet he’s over here playing games with you instead. It’s no surprise that he’s teasing you again but you’re wishing he was serious.
“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re the only girl in my life?” 
You shove him off the bench, rolling your eyes. “Why did you want me here again?” He’s on the floor, a hearty laugh roaring from his chest. He’s effortlessly handsome like this and it’s no wonder that you’ve fallen for him. 
“I think you should reconsider my question and let me know when you’re ready. But besides that,” Jungkook is getting off of the solid ground, rubbing his bottom in the process. “I want you to come to my swim meet this Friday. You’re my good luck charm and I can’t win without you.”
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“Why do I feel like those one of girls who are hopelessly in love with him?” You grumble into your arms, rubbing your hands into your face dishearteningly. “I feel so stupid, falling for his charms and everything. You know what he said to me again today?”
Yura’s in the process of shoving the cheesy goodness of tteokbokki into her mouth, sauce spilling out on the sides of her lips. She always had the biggest appetite and ate messily but it never stopped the queue of men standing outside her locker trying to shove in love letters on Valentine’s Day. Yura was a pure beauty— you always found yourself curious how the two of you became friends because you thought you weren’t as special, just average. But nonetheless, Yura had never failed to be there for you, through thick and thin, and your love for her in this friendship was almost the equivalent to what you felt for Jungkook. Except you were in love with Jungkook.
“Wha de he say?” She doesn’t even wait to finish swallowing her food, she just speaks through it, spitting some of the hot sauce onto your side of the table as you scowl in disgust. 
“Jesus, Yura, chew and swallow first.”
“Sorry,” She smiles cheekily after emptying her mouth. “What did he say?”
“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re the only girl for me? I want you to come to my swim meet this Friday. You’re my good luck charm and I can’t win without you.”
Both of Yura’s brows raise up. “Oh wow, he’s definitely smitten with you. So, when are you gonna tell him that you’re ‘hopelessly in love’ with him?”
You sigh. “I can’t. I’ll ruin our friendship.”
“You’re doing this ass backwards,” She says, shaking her head as she picks out a fish cake from the bowl. “You guys fucked and yet you think that confessing your feelings will ruin your friendship?”
Shrugging your shoulders, you exhale another deep breath of sadness. “I’m just happy with where we are. I like being the special one in his life. What if I tell him and he doesn’t reciprocate feelings?”
“Worry about it then.” She responds casually, stuffing another spoonful into her mouth. “I don’t understand why people get so scared of telling someone how they feel. You never know your opportunity until you try it. Plus, it’s Jungkook. You really think he’s going to just drop you after all these years?”
Maybe Yura was right. Well— there was no way in hell you’d let her know that because her ego would swell up and get the best of her, but she made a valid point. Jungkook doesn’t know that you like him, right? So what if he did feel something for you?
“Think about it. Has he ever had a girlfriend?”
Silent, you’re almost skimming your mental memory of any recollection of Jungkook having a relationship. “Honestly, no.”
“And he tells you everything.”
“Correct.” You answer again. 
“Don’t you feel like he’s waiting for something? Or someone in particular? You even mentioned it before, he happens to have the entire women population of this school crawling at his feet and all he does is act dumb.”
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A floral square neck short sleeve crop top and blue jeans were what you decided to leave the house with for Jungkook’s swim competition but you don’t feel like yourself underneath this fabric. In actuality, you would never find yourself walking out the house in something so... fitted, opting for something more comfortable and breathable, but you knew today wasn’t a day for that. You’d gather enough courage to finally tell Jungkook that you didn’t want to be just friends anymore, you were ready to take it to the next level.
Sitting down on the bleachers of the humid arena, the stench of chlorine attacks your sense of smell again. You could never understand what it felt like to be Jungkook— he lived for the aroma of the water entering in his nostrils, the feeling of water touching his skin for hours, having so much control whenever he was in the pool. Whenever he was stressed, angry or sad, the first place you’d look for him would be here. Mediations were for some people, but swimming was for Jungkook.
He’s walking toward you, a beautiful grin spreading from ear to ear, wearing what seems to be insufferable competitive swim trunks that hug the lower half his body so tightly it could be a second layer of skin. He hasn’t worn his cap yet, but he’s holding it in his hand with his goggles, arms opened wide for you to come into his embrace.
“I’m seriously so happy you’re here. And look at you! All dressed up. Is this for me?” You scoff yet you’re already in his arms, face snuggled into his bare chest. He smelled like the water but when it’s coming from him, the scent is intoxicating.  “Why would you even expect me not to come? I’m always rooting for you and your dreams, you idiot.” 
For a brief moment, you’re standing on the sidelines with his arms wrapped around your frame and his chin resting on your head. Being with Jungkook was different, he made you feel a way that none of the guys that came into your life have made you feel. 
Summers ago, you met this handsome boy, Taehyung. He was a few years older than both you and Jungkook and a member of the same swim team as Jungkook. Taehyung was the love that you knew realistically would never like you back. He was close to graduation, prepping for the recruiters who would attend their swim competitions to see potential candidates for colleges. Girls were flaunting themselves on him just as much as Jungkook and just as similar to him, his aspirations were a priority. Those girls were put in the back burner. He’d make your heart swell in your chest, constantly bringing you snacks and checking in on you occasionally as you study on the sidelines by the pool, waiting for your best friend to finish practice. You recall telling Jungkook about your childish crush on the guy you barely knew and him responding with, “You just think he’s cute. I don’t think you really like him,” or “He’s just being nice! He’s nice to everyone. Don’t fall for his charms so quickly.”
All of your feelings for Taehyung disappeared the day he graduated, saying his goodbyes to both you and Jungkook while in his blue gown, newly dyed platinum locks disheveled underneath his cap. He ruffles Jungkook’s hair, eyes gleaming toward the younger male before saying, “Take care of yourself, will ya? And take care of the little one too. Don’t let her fall between the cracks.” With that, he left with a scholarship to swim for the college team abroad in the United States, and you haven’t heard from him since.
The whistle blows, signaling the swimmers to get in their positions, and Jungkook lets go of you and you’re suddenly feeling empty. But the look he gifts you is loving, the reflection of the sunlight hitting the pool touches his face before he’s putting on his swim cap and goggles. 
Jungkook is standing on the platform, side by side with other competitors from local high schools. Although you’ve come to almost all his practices and attended every single swim meet, you couldn’t exactly grasp onto any of the rules or the jargon but Jungkook never held that against you. He just wanted you there as his personal cheerleader, standing in the bleachers, watching him perform the greatest act as each time he does this is better than the last.
The referee blows a short series of whistles, initiating the start of the race and Jungkook dives into the water in mere milliseconds amongst the rest of the swimmers. He’s fast—incredibly fast that you’re afraid to blink because you might miss something important. 
Jungkook was placed in the freestyle 100m event; his coach evidently complimented him constantly for his ability to adapt to the time and switch the types of strokes he needed to use in order to beat anyone neck and neck with him. 
Today was no exception. Jungkook hit his first lap in third place; a technique he learned was to never overexert your strengths in the beginning because in the last portion of the race was where you want to push yourself to the fullest. The amount of videos he made you sit through the entirety of throughout your life was countless. He would plop himself in front of the television or computer for hours, observing the olympic and professional swimmers tactics because his parents couldn’t afford a private teacher for him. It wasn’t until high school that he had a real coach, someone who could dedicate their time in training and shaping Jungkook into the athlete he wanted to be. Before that, he would come to school’s indoor pool almost daily to just swim laps and test out what he watched on the internet.
His second lap was closing to its end and like every other swim meet, your stomach was doing flips. There was so much faith in Jungkook, from you, his parents, his team, but you weren’t sure how he felt about himself. He never failed to impress everyone, swooning the hearts of both males and females during these events however never once has he expressed his anxiety before a competition. He just did it because he loved it. Swimming was Jungkook’s passion.
The male next to him is close, they’re strokes away from each other to the point you can’t even tell who’s in the lead. It ends so quickly that the referee blows into his whistle before you realize as Jungkook ascends from the water, snapping off his cap and goggles as he eyes the man in the white and black striped shirt before glancing over at his opponent.
The referee grabs Jungkook’s wrist with another scream of the whistle, and excitedly, Jungkook smacks the water. He won.
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Towel hanging around his neck, his eyes sparkle at the sight of you approaching after his team congratulates him eagerly on his win. If you knew better, the sight of you was his own personal win.
“Congrats, Jeon.” You say, playfully pulling on his drenched locks. “I knew you’d win. You always win.”
“I always win because you’re here.” There he goes again, tugging on your heartstrings so carelessly. “Come join us for dinner after this.”
“Only if you dedicate some alone time with me for dessert.” You have no idea what being possess you because you’re abruptly so bold. “I want to talk to you about something.”
“Oh?” He tilts his head questioningly. “Now you’re just tempting me to cancel dinner and go right to dessert. What do you want to talk about?”
“Just... stuff,” You say, pursing your lips. Before Jungkook can even say anything, another teammate comes up to him, slapping him on his buttock with a bright smile. “Look at little Kook, I’m not even surprised he even won.”
“I told you, I got myself a personal cheerleader. You should get one too.” Jungkook says, grasping onto your arm. “It’s a real energy booster when they’re cute too.”
“Oooo, maybe I can borrow your cheerleader!” His teammate teases but Jungkook clicks his tongue threateningly. “Get your own, this one is mine.” His teammate laughs before shaking his head and walking away to the rest of the group.
“I’m still curious what you’re going to say to me.” He says, turning back to direct his attention onto you. “You think you can skip waiting ‘til dessert and tell me now?”
“No.” 
“Oh, come on!” He whines and despite his height, he still can throw a tantrum like a child. “I really want to—“
“Oppa?”
The two of you divert your fixation onto the owner of the soft voice; blinking blankly, your eyes browse over the girl. You assume it’s Dahyun because her hair is down like the other day and her petite body seems familiar and you’re proven right when Jungkook calls out her name.
“What are you doing here? Don’t you have a math test tomorrow that you need to study for?”
She has a pink gift bag in her hand, butterfly and heart stickers decorated all over. The bag looks heavy with how the handles stretch to the fullest extent. You’re chewing your bottom lip now; Dahyun was going to confess and you’re unsure if Jungkook can tell.
“Can we talk in private for a moment, Oppa? I have to tell you something.”
“You can tell me here.” He gestures your presence with a grin on his face. “I don’t have anything to hide from her, she doesn’t judge so tell me what you have to say freely. And if she does judge...” Jungkook’s gaze shifts to you as he squints his eyes. “I’ll just beat her up.”
“Oppa, I think I like you. Will you go out with me?” 
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falling-fineline · 3 years
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Rest It On Your Fingertips
(Cake Hoodings one shot)
hi! you can call me elle!
this is my first cake ever one-shot!
ive never written anything like this before so please be kind and i did write this in 2 days while i was high and horny and thinking about calum and luke.
the following one shot does have references to self-harm so tread lightly.
other than that, this is just a angsty smutty fluffy mess! hope you like it! please reblog or like this post if you do or you can read it on ao3
come talk with me! im swear i dont bite! xx
“Heeeeey, you said I could have the last puff,” Luke whines, sticking out his bottom lip.
Even from right beside him as he pulls on the rooch, eyes hooded, Calum can see how chewed up his boyfriend’s bottom lip is. His teeth working relentlessly ever since the two of them started smoking after their show. For a brief moment, Calum wonders why the other was so nervous as he turns to face luke on the bed, slowly mo0ving his left hand to grasp Luke’s chin. Leaning in, the older bloke blew the last of their shared joint into the other's lips.
Calum’s lips lingered on luke’s for just a moment before he leant back on the headboard, admiring Luke’s side profile as he exhales out slowly, the smoke curling around in the air in front of them. Casted by the low lamp light, Luke’s nose looks more fairy-like against the stark shadows.
Luke hums contently, eyes closed, a huge grin on his lips. Luke tilts his head back as he too leaned back against the headboard, relaxing into the wooden board as the high seeps through him. He’s on the good side of buzzed, feeling warmth circling through his veins, slouching further into the mattress.
Calum glances and notices that Luke has his eyes closed. Feeling unusually brave, (probably from the weed), Calum leans in and licks a bold strip up the side of Luke’s left cheek. His tongue runs along Luke’s beard, getting a loud open-mouthed laugh bursting out of the blond.
“That tickles!” Luke’s shaking shoulders from his laughter bumps into calum’s black vest cladded chest.
Luke’s black leather jacket hung in the bathroom to air dry out the smells of a 2 hour show. The blond lad’s red silk button up looked blood red under the warm hotel room lights. Calum can’t help but run his hands slowly down from Luke’s chin, trailing down the button band, first through Luke’s chest hair, fingers moving on to clink his finger nails against the bottoms, small clacking sounds is barely heard over the sound of music that’s playing from calum’s Bluetooth speaker.
Luke’s eyes flutter open as he senses the warmth radiating off calum’s hands casting over his chest as it hovers there, actions paused for a moment.
Today was Calum and Luke’s one month anniversary of when Calum asked a shy looking luke out, a blush painted on the blond’s cheeks as the younger lad had nodded fervently with a huge his playing on his lips. His lips. Which were nervously being bitten. Why was he nervous? It could be because of the conversation they had this morning.
Luke had clung longer than usual when they had their morning cuddles. When Calum asked his boyfriend what was on his mind, the blond took a breathe and answered into calum’s stomach.
“I want us to finally have sex tonight..After the show. Like all the way. I want to celebrate tonight. I want you in me, Cal.” Luke’s voice had tapered off toward the end, getting more and more anxious the longer he went on. Calum had scooped Luke into his arms and hugged him tight, lifting the other off their feet. Luke had laughed open mouthed like he does when he’s happy.
Fast forward to now, where Calum can clearly see the blond’s growing bulge that’s hidden under cotton white Calvin klein briefs. Clearly ready for their first time together. Calum noticed that Luke always got horny when they got high. Whereas Calum got mellow, calmer, more observant of his surroundings. And it wasn’t until recently that Calum caught on that yes Luke was affectionate but he was also trying to flirt with Calum when he was high. Having the edge off from the weed had helped Luke’s courage and self-esteem a lot.
Calum had also noticed that Luke’s hands unconsciously played with the bottom hems of his briefs, pulling them down further his pale thighs whenever they rode up from movement.
“What’s got my pretty boy’s head all worked up?” Calum asked the blond lad across from him. Both hands coming down to hold and steady Luke’s nervous pair. Although every other part of look is hot to the touch, his hands remain cold. Poor circulation do to his nerves probably.
“I’m nervous of how you’ll… react.” Luke said into his chest, head bowed down to hide his face from Calum’s view. Hands squeezing shut under calum’s tattooed pair.
“React to what?”
In the dim bed side light that’s casting over Luke’s face, it looks as if Luke’s eyes are filled to the brim with tears, holding it back for the sake of show. The blond's cheeks grow hot in embarrassment even though he doesn’t know why because he’s cried in front of Calum before.
“You’re my best friend, bandmate and boyfriend, babe, you can tell me anything that’s on your mind and hopefully I’ll help you alleviate your troubles.” Calum strokes his thumb across the backs of Luke’s hands to try to ease him down, try not to get him too worked up. His other hand came up to stroke across the bottom of Luke’s left eye and swiped some tears away.
“I’d like to keep my shirt on if that’s alright with you.” Luke said firmly, looking up into calum’s eyes to communicate his conviction.
“Of course, whatever you’re comfortable with, pet.”
Luke blushes a light shade of pink at the pet name. And, with new found courage, the blond closes the distance between their lips. Mouths working together, the kiss begins at a slow tempo, hands roaming bodies as lightly as the afternoon wind sweeps over red dessert peaks and valleys. The kiss turns breathless when Calum’s hands wander past Luke’s perky nipples, erected due to the immense pleasure and connection he’s feeling between them. The brunette takes his time kissing down Luke’s torso, nuzzling his face into blond curly chest hair to get a breathless laugh from Luke.
Usually, when the two of them get intimate, it’s usually Calum receiving pleasure while luke eagerly gives it. They have had their fair share of dressing room quick blowjobs. And it’s not that Calum doesn’t have love to give back. He has so much actually, but luke always pushes his hands away or if the blond does get really eager for relief, he keeps his briefs on while Calum sucked him off.
Calum never questioned Luke on why he keeps certain clothes on during sex, but he chalks it up to Luke slowly opening up to him and being more and more comfortable when the two of them get intimate.
So when Calum goes to remove Luke’s briefs, he looks up to the blond and asks “Is it alright if I take this off for you?”
Calum can feel the blond’s muscles tighten then release for a moment before he answers with a quiet “yes”.
Agonizingly slow, Calum takes off Luke’s briefs, Luke lifting up his bum to help his boyfriend with the process. When they get settled again, Luke’s briefs thrown beside the bed, Calum finally understands why Luke had been nervous about. Or really, Calum sees them.
Thin messy white lines of healed scar tissue line Luke’s inner thighs, strokes beside one another in a somewhat orderly fashion. Not one of them are any longer than 5cm in length, but the sheer amount of them made beside one another is jarring. Calum feels Luke’s eyes on him as the brunet takes it all in.
“Y-you don’t have to… pay any mind to them.” Luke’s voice trembles a bit as his left hand goes to grab a hold of calum’s hand, grasping it tightly.
Calum’s eyes are filled with unshed tears as he softly uses his free hand to stroke over the fading scars. There’s roughly 30 odd lines riddled into Luke’s fleshy skin, on each thigh.
In a quiet whisper, Calum asks “Can I know when it started?”
Luke answers a while later. “The breakup with her was hard for me to… process. And then when we came off tour, I was all alone in my house and I-… it was like I was in my own personal purgatory. It was Ashton that actually found me in my bathroom,” The blond gulps, eyes casted downwards. “after I had cut myself particularly too hard, I had panicked and called Ash. He came into my house but for a while I didn’t open the bathroom door for him. I was so ashamed. I was scared too though. So the fear brought me to opening the door for Ash and when he saw how pale I was, how unwell I was, he asked me to move in with him for a while. Until I got back on my feet.”
The blond lulled his head until it landed in the crooks of calum’s shoulder. Calum leans his head into Luke’s for a moment then speaks.
“Luke Hemmings, I love you so damn much. You are the strongest person I know and you’ve come so far. So so far. You are a bright light in my life that I look forward to seeing and loving every single day. So Luke, will you let me take care of you tonight?” Calum’s hands start to sweat as he waits for the blond to answer.
“Yeah, alright.” Luke whispers, closing his eyes as he moves to get settled on the bed with a pillow put behind his head.
Calum’s about to stick his pointer finger into his mouth to lube it up with spit when Luke’s eyes snap open and he grabs a hold of calum’s hand mid air. Luke slowly recloses his eyes as he sticks calum’s pointer finger into his mouth, pink lips surrounding his knuckle. A low moan is hummed around calum’s finger as Luke lows down at Calum, where he’s lying his head on Luke’s hip, eyes hooded but Calum can see a glassy sheen to Luke’s eyes that tell him that he’s feeling mighty good right now.
That sparkle in his eyes, coupled with the low moans emitting from the blond’s mouth has got Calum frantically giving himself a quick squeeze to relieve some pressure.
Taking his finger out of Luke’s mouth, Luke eagerly watches his boyfriend strategically lube his other fingers with the slick split luke provided. Once Covered optimally, in one swift motion, Calum inserts a lubed up pointer finger into Luke’s hole as his mouth grabs a hold of Luke’s dick and swallows him down, sliding his finger in matching the slow pace.
Luke’s eyes are glued to the brunet, mesmerized, as his boyfriend enthusiastically bobs up and down his hardened cock, slick with spit. Calum pops off Luke’s cock and starts jerking him off in a more rapid pace, his fingers gaining speed. Somewhere between Calum playing with Luke’s balls and Luke, he swears to God, moaning out calum’s name when his fingers curve and hit his prostate, calum’s got 3 fingers in luke.
“so…fucking deep” A moan breaks out at the end of his sentence and Luke’s hips jerk up unconsciously, trying to shove his cock into the back of calum’s throat.
Calum’s gagging on it, sloppy sounds emit from the bed that would make anyone blush if heard. Calum loves how Luke’s fully letting himself feel the high and the pleasure of being pleased for once. A silent moan fits on the blond’s lips as he says “I need you, right now, please” It comes out like a breatheless whine towards the end but seeing luke ask for what he wants is turning calum on more than he thought was possible. Calum let’s Luke’s dick slip out of his pink overworked mouth to speak.
“you want my cock in you, pet?” calum’s voice is hoarse and so fucked out it’s the hottest thing Luke’s every heard. Calum takes out his 3 fingers, just to shove them back up to his knuckles as his tongue licks a strip up Luke’s being cock, pre cum spewing from the tip and onto his stomach. Luke’s hazy mind didn’t register the question that was directed towards him until a moment later. Luke’s gaze wanders from his dick up to calum’s moving mouth, and sees his own pre cum is gathered by the side of calum’s left side of his lips. Luke feels himself get impossibly harder at the raunchy sight.
“what?” Luke asks, speech delayed.
“I asked if you’re ready for me now, babe.” Calum sits up, adjusting his seating position so his own erection isn't squished. Luke was so caught up in his own pleasure that he forgot about his boyfriend.
A frown forms on the blond’s lips as he reaches for calum’s bulge. “Baby, I’m sorry I-“ Calum kindly swats Luke’s sloth like hands away before he cuts him off.
“I said that I’ll take care of you tonight, didn’t I? So that’s what I’m gonna do, will you let me?” Calum brings a hand to run through the blond locks in front of him.
Luke nods, so Calum takes his hand out of Luke’s hair, sets it beside his head on the pillow. The other hand jerks himself off a few strokes. Lining up his cock, Calum leans down to kiss Luke as he pushes in slowly, to the hilt.
A low groan escapes from Luke’s mouth as a moan comes out of calum’s as he resists the urge to pull out to pump back in again so early.
“You feeling alright, love?” Calum breathes the words onto Luke’s lips as the blond nods and says “Move.”
Calum wastes no time and pumps into Luke like all the times he’s fantasized about this moment in locker room showers.
Luke’s got his eyes scrunched shut, his legs bouncing around calum’s round hips. Soft “uh uh uh’s” stream out of luke’s pink lips. Luke tightens his legs around Calum, all while he sticks his tongue down calum’s throat, wrapping both hands around calum’s neck, holding him there for a moment.
They kiss fervently, Like tasting himself on calum’s lips. They kiss as if tomorrow will never come and tonight is the last chance to show their love for each other. Calum shifts his hips, circling them in a way that’s got them both moaning a string of curse words at the pleasure.
The sounds of skin slapping on slick skin echo around the walls as the sounds of harry styles’ tune Medicine starts to play.
Here to take my medicine, take my medicine
Treat you like a gentleman
Give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline
I think I’m gonna stick with you
Here to take my medicine, take my medicine
Rest it on your fingertips
Up to your mouth, feeling it out
Feeling it out
Calum swirls his tongue around Luke’s mouth, playing tag with the blond’s active tongue.
I had a few, got drunk on you and now I’m wasted
And when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you tasted
Calum’s steady rhythm rocks into Luke, a rhythmic thud can be heard as the headboard bangs against the wall.
If you go out tonight, I’m going out ‘cause I know you’re persuasive
You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it
We’re getting dizzy, oh, we’re getting dizzy, oh
La la la la la
You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh
Luke begins stroking his own cock, his mind muddle by the weed and absolute euphoria he felt running through his veins. Heat began to gather in his stomach as his orgasm began to build.
Tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes
Tingle running through my bones
The boys and the girls are in
I mess around with him
And I’m okay with it
“Where to do want me to cum?” Calum pants into Luke’s right ear, hips never tiring their movements as they ram into the blond’s hole, skin slapping on skin.
I’m coming down, I figured out I kinda like it
And when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you ride it
“cum inside me, please cal, I want you to cum inside, I want your load in me god I want it so bad please please please.” Luke sounds so gone, speaking mindlessly, words meshing into the next, slurring speech. Calum pulls back his head and sees that Luke’s already looking at him. His blue eyes are bleary, constantly glancing from side to side, trying to focus on calum’s warm brown ones. Pupils blown, can barely see where the baby blues have gone in the heat of ecstasy. Sweat seeps into the pillow under luke’s head, moisture on his forehead. Curls unruly and matted against his face. Mouth hanging open has he’s pounded by his boyfriend. Luke Hemmings looking like this, fucked out and on the edge of climax, was a sight for calum’s sore eyes only.
If you go out tonight, I’m going out ‘cause I know you’re persuasive
You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it
We’re getting dizzy, oh, we’re getting dizzy, oh
La la la la la
You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh
I had a few, got drunk on you and now I’m wasted
Luke cums with a shout of calum’s name, eyes scrunched shut as his body spasms with pleasure. He paints his stomach with his spunk, white goop sticky on his stomach and chest. Although he slumps back onto the bed a little bit, he pulls calum’s head down beside his and starts whispering into the brunet’s ear, under the sound of music playing.
If you go out tonight, I’m going out ‘cause I know you’re persuasive
You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it
We’re getting dizzy, oh, we’re getting dizzy, oh
La la la la la
You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh
“I want you to fill me up, Cal, release your load into me, let me milk you out cal, milk you out with my tight tight hole. I wanna feel you pulse in me cal, Calum, Mmm.” Calum pumps one final time before he buries his face into the crook of Luke’s neck, teeth grabbing onto flex as he cums inside Luke’s hole, teeth biting down momentarily. That’s going to leave a mark. Oops.
As they both come down from their highs, Calum pulls out of Luke slowly. White spunk drip out of Luke’s hole into a small puddle onto the bed sheets.
Luke cuddles into calum’s shoulder, chest rising evenly as it falls with each breath he takes. Minds coming down from their own orgasmic highs.
“Thanks for that. I felt so good. So..loved.” Luke blushes a bit at his remark, then a small grin settles on his lips. He turns around onto his stomach, still lying on Calum. Calum eyes crinkle before he speaks.
“I love you and I want you to know that your light shines brighter than the gold glitter you put on your eyelids before you go on stage. Your light is so unique and irreplaceable. I look forward to loving you more and more each day so please, stay.” Calum annunciates the last word with a soft peck of his lips against the blond’s.
Luke does continue on. Staying by calum’s side, in the band, in the world. He surrounds himself with the loved ones he had once convinced himself that they didn’t love him back. He is well loved by all, especially Calum.
Some days are harder than the others, with Luke bed ridden for days on end. Boxes upon boxes of tissues are used up to soak up at the tears he’s got to shed. Or he’d be numb out of his mind, staring out the bus window, trying to actually See what’s in front of himself and not just noticing it.
Other times, he takes petunia out for walks and works out with Calum and goes to the studio with Ash and plays Mario Kart with Michael.
Luke takes it one day at a time.
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suchdan-veryphil · 3 years
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A Whole Ass Baby? - Jack Barakat Imagine
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Anonymous said:
How about a Jack Barakat headcannon/whatever you wanna write about you two finding out that you’re gonna have a kid? I need more Jack content tbh 
Word Count: 2,367
Trigger Warnings: Swearing, getting sick, sex mention, menstruation mentioned, doctors
A/N: 
This is the second time I put something back in my drafts instead of posting it when I was done. And this is now the second time I was sad that a post wasn’t getting notes when it was never posted. I will do better. This took forever, but here it is. I love Jack Bassam Barakat. I love writing Jack Barakat. I am HERE FOR THIS
------------
It had been three weeks since I started feeling nauseous. I would just be sitting down and be hit with a sudden wave of nausea, like I was on a boat for too long. I could still eat, I could still drink, I could still shake my ass to Mr. Brightside but if I sat for too long I would just be hit with the feeling that it was time to vom. 
Then two weeks ago, I was fine. The nausea was gone, the world was bright again.
Then about two days ago, it hit me again. I couldn’t eat anything that wasn’t toast, crackers, a banana, or water (although the water was a hit or miss). Too much of anything caused me to be violently sick, and unfortunately for me, “too much” of most things meant one bite. Otherwise, I felt fine. No aches and pains, no headache, no fever. I wasn’t thinking too much about it, though, mostly for those reasons. 
Meanwhile, Jack was pounding back cake, pizza, ribs, wings, margs, and everything in between four or five times a day without a second thought. I was honestly jealous. 
We were sitting on our sofa, watching The Office. I was laying on two of the cushions and he was sitting on the third, resting his elbow on my knees. I watched as he popped three pizza rolls into his mouth at once and started chewing rather loudly. In response, I groaned and pushed his shoulder with the pad of my foot. 
“Do you have to enjoy the good food in the house when I’m sick?” 
He started to reply, but I couldn’t understand him with all of that food in his mouth. It was a low grumble, and he was starting to drool a pizza stained slobber the more he attempted to speak.
“What?! I can’t understand you,” I chuckled a little and sat up before wiping his nasty spit out of his beard. He chewed the food and quickly swallowed before answering. 
“I said, if I don’t eat it then nobody will and that’s a shame. Besides, I still think you should go to the doctor.” He popped another roll in his mouth and looked over at me. 
“I disagree. My stomach has just been off. I have literally zero other symptoms.” 
“You haven’t eaten in like a week. You need to go to the doctor.” Jack raised his eyebrows at me and stared intently. He was probably right, but I hated the doctors and he knew this. 
“If I don’t feel better by Sunday, I’ll go to the doctor. Okay? Just two days.” 
We just stared at each other, both of us begging the other to give in silently. I leaned in and did my best to pout my lip without it being obvious. 
I could tell the second that he went to inhale deeply through his nose that I had won. 
“Thank you,” I leaned over and kissed his cheek gently. 
“I didn’t even say anything!” 
“You didn’t have to.” I kissed his cheek once more, getting a whif of his greasy lunch. It hit my stomach instantly, bringing me to my feet and to the bathroom to empty whatever small contents that were left. 
That was definitely the universe giving me some sort of karma. 
I could feel his hands rubbing my back as I leaned over the toilet and waited to see if anything else was going to invite itself up. 
With a deep breath, I grabbed some toilet paper and wiped my mouth before flushing and sitting on the cold tile. 
“Do you feel better?” Jack continued to rub my back. I took a second to listen to my body, and also to get reoriented. After a moment, I nodded my head and pressed my palms against the floor to push myself off of the ground. I was only a few inches off the ground when I started to feel dizzy and fell back into Jack’s arms. I closed my eyes and put my hand up to my forehead. 
“Ok, let’s go to the doctor.” I leaned against the sink counter and collected myself before I began to brush my teeth. 
I could see Jack’s face become instantly relieved through the mirror as I spoke.
“I’ll get the keys.” 
Within the minute, we were getting into the car and buckling up. Jack reached over as we stopped at a light and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. 
“Well you don’t have a fever.” His hands dropped to hold mine, fingers interlaced. 
“I know, that’s why I really didn’t want to go anywhere. I’ve had stomach aches before,” I sighed and rubbed circles along his hand with my thumb. 
Jack nodded and focused on driving. “I know. I know,” 
It wasn’t long before we were in the waiting room of my doctor’s office. I was busy concentrating on not getting sick in front of the other patients waiting to be seen and Jack took out his phone to play a game. 
I stared at his phone screen as he made switched pieces of candy to watch them pop. I concentrated so hard on the screen that I didn’t hear when they called my name. 
“Hey, that’s you.” Jack locked his phone and elbowed my arm as I came to. 
“Oh. Oh, I’m coming. Sorry.” I turned and handed Jack my bag. “Can you hold this?” He just nodded and slung it over his shoulder casually and continued to scroll through his phone.  
I followed the RN into the examination room and sat on the chair with the noisy white paper on it. “So, Y/N, what brings you in today?” 
I sighed and sat back on the chair, making the paper rustle. “Well, I haven’t been feeling well for the last couple of weeks. I have bad nausea, I can’t keep anything down. Today, my boyfriend was eating a pizza roll and just the smell made me sick. I got really light headed in the bathroom after getting sick. I don’t have a fever or anything, but Jack, my partner, is set on me getting seen so... here we are.” 
I let out a breath and watched as the nurse processed everything. “Are you on any medication? Any change in your diet or exercise routine?” 
“Nope, I’m still not on anything and I still don’t diet or exercise.” We both chuckled at my little joke before she nodded and started to take my temp and my blood pressure. 
“Sexually active?” She asked, releasing the air from my arm band. 
I nodded my head and watched as she removed the band. “Yes indeed.” 
“Do you use contraceptives?” 
“We do.” 
“When was your last menstrual cycle?” 
“Um,” I paused and thought back to when the last time I got my period was. I couldn’t remember, which was probably not the best sign. 
“I’d like to give you a pregnancy test to rule it out before the doctor goes and prescribes you something, if that’s alright.” She opened a cabinet and began to reach for whatever she was grabbing as I answered. 
“Yea, that’s fine.” I could feel my palms begin to get sweaty as I thought of the possibility that I was pregnant. Me? A mom? I couldn’t imagine it. I slept until almost noon most days and ate mac and cheese for most meals. There was no way I could be a mom. 
Jack as a dad, though, that was something I could see. He was always ready to take care of others and make someone laugh. Jack was someone who had a lot of patience, was goal-driven, and just made everyone happy. I tried to imagine what it would be like if he had a tiny baby to love and care for, but I was pulled back by the nurse who handed me a cup. 
“Here you go, just pee in this and leave it on the shelf over the sink with your birthday written on it. You can come back in here when you’re done and we’ll let you know what we get and take it from there.” 
I took the small plastic container in my hands and sighed as I looked at it. Getting up from the seat, I couldn’t help but notice my cheeks started to hurt. I could not stop smiling, just imagining that Jack and I could possibly be having a baby. 
Once I reached the bathroom, I followed the nurse’s instructions step-by-step and washed my hands thoroughly. All I could think was “I should have drank more water today” and “Jack and I might be parents”. 
Sitting back on the seat, I bit my lip and rested my head back in the headrest. Jack had no idea what was going on in this room. He was just sitting in the waiting room with my purse over his shoulder, playing Candy Crush or scrolling through TikTok. 
I could feel another wave of nausea hit and I silently prayed to whatever higher power would listen that I would not throw up in this office. All of my energy went into holding in whatever it was that was threatening its way up. To my demise, I was quickly pulled to my feet and hunched over a garbage can to hurl. Between heaves, I heard the door open and close before being met with the voice of my nurse. 
“Well, I think we know why you’re getting so sick.” The water turned on and I soon saw a cup of water in my line of vision along with a tissue. I took both gratefully once I knew I was done before wiping my mouth and drinking the water. I threw the cup and tissue in the trash before sitting and apologizing. 
“I can take that out with me, I’m so sorry. Thank you.” I was rambling at this point, feeling just embarrassed that she had walked in on that. 
“Don’t worry about that. Grosser things have happened here, trust me. We’ll get it taken out once you leave. Now, I have news that could be either really good or really bad depending on how you take it but know that there are options from here.” 
Somehow, this only confused me so I just nodded in hopes that she would get to it. 
“You’re pregnant. This would explain the sickness, the lack of appetite, the lack of fever, and the lack of a period.” 
My heart started to race and I could hear it pumping in my ears. “Wow.” 
It was all I could muster before I looked at her and smiled a little. “Can... can we go get Jack?” 
“Of course! I’ll go get him, I just didn’t want to tell you in front of him just in case.” She smiled back at me and left the room for a minute before returning with Jack, who was still holding my purse over his shoulder. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I saw him looking so non-chalant with it. 
“Hey you. Is everything okay?” He reached out his hand to grab mine before squeezing gently and looking at the nurse and then back at me. 
“Yea, everything’s fine.” I smiled widely at him and bit my lip before looking at the nurse. 
“Well we figured out why Y/N has been getting so sick.” The nurse started before she looked at me. I nodded and held back my tears as she continued. “She’s pregnant.” 
Jack was silent for a second before he looked down at me. “Wait. What?” He smiled widely and dropped my bag to the ground before taking my other hand and squeezing them tightly. 
All I could do was nod. 
“A baby?” He asked and tilted his head, much like a dog would when confused. 
I chuckled and nodded my head. “A baby, Jack.” 
I was barely finished with my sentence before he leaned down and wrapped me up in his arms tightly. 
“Oh my god. A whole ass baby. A kid. A child.” he rubbed my back over a few times before leaning back and holding my face in his hands. 
“So you’re happy?” I asked and smiled widely, reflecting his. Jack let out a quick, “ha” before leaning in and kissing me deeply. 
Once we separated, he bit his lower lip and glanced down at my stomach. “How far along are you?” 
I shrugged, and the nurse chimed in momentarily. “By the looks of your period chart, it would look like you’re about 7 weeks along. I’ll give you guys a few minutes, but when you’re ready you can go to the front and make an appointment with us for within the next few weeks and we can follow up.” 
“Thank you.” was all Jack or I could muster as she excused herself. He looked down at me and dropped his jaw. 
“A whole baby!” 
I laughed and nodded. “Yes! A whole ass baby! Growing in here!” I poked my stomach and chuckled before I bit my lower lip to contain the smile. 
“So you bothered me and pestered me about condom usage and we ended up getting knocked up anyways.” Jack commented. I gently and playfully pushed his shoulder and shook my head. 
“Oh shut up, Barakat. Looks like that wine room is getting turned into a nursery.” 
“Says you. I was thinking your office would be comfier.” 
I laughed a little and shook my head. “Yes, because we need a wine clubhouse AND a wine closet. Sorry, how dare I?” 
With a smile, Jack helped me up to my feet and held my hand. With his free hand, he picked up my bag and handed it to me. 
“I’m carrying a child and you want me to carry my bag too?” I teased as I reached for it. Quickly, he pulled it back and slung it over his shoulder again. 
“Fine, I look better with it anyways. It’s definitely not your color,” he said and lead the way to the front reception area. 
The way my heart swelled with love and joy told me that I was on a very eventful and joyous journey with my boyfriend and our growing family. 
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dragonagecompanions · 4 years
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hi there, so in love with your works. Seriously *bows head* thank you all so much. If its not too bad, I wanted to know how everyone in DAI from the advisors to the companions would react to a teen inquisitor who is brilliant at cooking? Yet the inquisitor has no idea about people from Leliana's agents to everyone else pinching her food.
Cassandra: She thinks she is being sneaky and subtle, insisting that because of their age and responsibility it is better for their young herald to stay close to camp and not take a watch when they leave Skyhold. There will be time for that when they are older, and bearless of a burden. If they will take on the difficulty of closing the rifts, then the most they should have to do is help around the camp, and after a long day nothing is appreciated more than hot food.
No one contradicts her, and the Seeker is left to silently congratulate herself on enjoying the absolutely divine way that their young leader has with rabbit and Hinterland herbs without making the Inquisitor feel worthless.
(And if everyone else lets her take a lead on that because she has mattered the speech, well...it’s really good stew.)
Varric: Damn, this is the stuff. Its like being back in the Hanged Man, except the bread is trying to actively strange him, and the pies aren’t staring back and.. 
It’s nothing like the Hanged Man, really, but the sheer comfort of phenomenal food at the end of the world? The same kind of warmth as sitting with your friends as the city goes to shit and laughing at a joke no one else gets. Their young protagonist has a good skill set on their hands, and If Varric’s writing table moves a little closer to the door into the kitchens, well.
Keeps the ink from freezing.
Solas: It had been a passing comment about the frilly cakes in Val Royeaux,  some exchange of banter with Varric about time passing and philosophy and the unending banal that one takes on to keep the miles from turning monotonous. He’d had no idea the Herald was listening, and so it makes it all the more touching when- after waqving to them as they take on the climb to the library- he comes down from his painter’s perch to find three petit fours waiting for him on his table. 
It drives home that they are a thoughtful young person, so different from the rest of this world, and if he uses the sweetness of the frosting and cake to drive away the twinge of guilt that his plans still move at speed....it does not take away from their talent, or their kindness. He will be content with that.
Blackwall: Food is food, particularly on the road. Hard tack and sausage has kept many a soldier alive, and he is the last person you’d hear complaining that he can’t put his pinky out eating meat from a spit. Luxury is for soft handed nobles, not men and women striving to make the world better. Let them have the best cuts-- Blackwall would starve before he robs true heroes of a hot meal.
And yet the first time he comes back from gathering firewood to find that the reason the inquisitor was tying so much string around the side of a wild hog was to make a porketta, and he got a good whiff of roasted pork slowly spinning in it’s own drippings....It would be a harder sacrifice. It made the Inquisitor so happy to watch their work be enjoyed and help people though, that it would the crueler not to take some. 
And if he dreams about the tender meat and crispy skin all perfectly seasoned and roasted for days afterwords, that’s no one’s business of his own. 
Vivienne: She cuts an imposing figure, and for the Madame de Fer is quite proud. It has cowed more than one recalcitrant novice into place with only a long legged stride alone, and for that she is a legend in her circle. Of course the stories do not tell how she would never be cruel or unfeeling to a child, and particularly not one far from home and frightened of every shadow like the ones that the Templars rip from families and depost in a new and strange place.
She expects a similar attitude from the young Herald, particularly after her (rahter stunning) entrance on their first meeting. And perhaps they were a bit overawed, but before it could become something she needs to address Lady Vivienne is pleasantly surprised to find their young leader coming to her for advice from a letter from some minor Orlesian lord. And while surely it will be up to Josephine to craft the response Vivienne is delighted that the Inquisitor wants her input.
That they went to the effort to bring beignet’s with them as a bribe...For that, she will give them every secret of the author’s well kept family scandals. 
Sera: Their Bitty Herald can make cookies better than Sera can make cookies, but they aren’t the kind that you throw at people as a prank or that come out all rock hard and brown and blegh. They are the soft gooey kind that make you want to steal the whole plate and eat them on your roof but also throw the plate at their Quizznitor because....because cookies!
She will trade pranks for cookies, who ever her Jenny in training wants to see doused in water or flour or...or...pudding! Pudding for cookies is the most fair.
Dorian: Southern food is bland and tasteless, and Skyhold’s resident ‘Vint will endure it for as long as he must to help defeat this ancient magister and get things on the right track. And the beer isn’t the worst, much to his own dismay as his delicate palette accepts the swill. But the food is all friend or brown or smothered in gravy, and he’d just as soon not.
So when they finally stop for the night under the endless web of branches that keep the sky from meeting the Fallow Mire, the pond water full of dead people sounds more appealing than one more night of Varric’s nug stew. Which makes the fact their valiant young Herald just ladled him a bowl of Minestrone so much more impressive. Their shrugged explanation of ‘I’ve always wanted to make it and the merchants had actual artichokes on the way here and you can tell me if I got it right’ does nothing to take away the warmth and delight the gesture brings to him. 
It would be like coming home, if anyone had ever made sucha rustic and delightful soup for him without strings and hooks attached in Tevinter, and for the first time on the whole mission Dorian isn’t chilled the rest of the night. 
The Iron Bull: He isn’t sure which one of the Chargers talks to the Herald (lies, it was  Krem), but one night half the fortress is piled into the Rest and the Inquisitor is waiting with four bowls of unreadable origin. The explanation that these are four kinds of curry and each is hotter than the last is the best gift he’s ever gotten, but the wager of a single coin (he won’t steal more than that from the kid) that the Iron Bull can’t finish them for the spice is even better. 
Three hours later finds him chewing on one of Stitche’s poultices for a burnt tongue (and throat and stomach and probably ass in a few hours) but one coin richer and hoarse voiced from the roaring laughter he’d gotten after a straight face convinced Krem to try the last bown and he’d literally wept.
Good times. 
Cole: The nug is made of bread, and it isn’t a nug but it looks like one. And it’s wearing a tiny hat! ‘Roll the dough out, has to be thin so it rises to keep the shape, he likes nugs so much and doesn’t ask for anything and Sera bet me I couldn’t.’ You made it for me. Thank you! He says hello back!
Josephine: When their ambassador hears that not only does the Herald have an aunt who married into a merchant house in Antiva but the inquisitor spent a summer there and learned to make authentic Paella, Lady Montiliyet’s mind is a whirlwind of plans and thoughts of just the appropriate bribe that would spare her from getting down on her knees and begging a fifteen year old to make her favorite dish. Eventually Leliana gets tired of little doodles of steaming bowls on all their meeting notes and sends a raven  three windows over, Josie, really with an ‘anonymous’ request to make it and leave it in the war room in exchange for a trade of equal value. 
And when Josephine finds out that all the Inquisitor wants is the creepy love letters from young  Orlesian nobles to go away, she takes great delight in her strongly worded letters to their mothers in between heaping mouthfuils of white wine rice and shrimp and the warm bite of saffron that will always be home.
Leliana: It is written on no report or schedule, and her agents will go to the grave without speaking of it to another soul, but the Inquisition’s spymaster has a man in the kitchens whose only role is to fetch firewood and water and try to one day recover his shattered after a terrible mission in her service. It’s easy work for a man who gave so much, and somewhere he is able to do good work until the tremors and the nightmares stop. The kitchen staff is kind to him and treat him well, but his true mission is known only to himself and his mistress.
The second the herald starts making  Cassoulet he is to fetch her immediately. She won’t be caught in a meeting and miss her favorite food again, damn it.
Cullen: It’s hard for the Inquisitor’s commander to be at ease with someone who is both a child and at least nominally his leader. They are someone he wants to protect, but also the key to stopping the world and someone who must be on the front lines. That is gift alone to the world, but when the rumors begin to swirl that they will also go out of their way to make things that people like it brings a small smile to his face. The world would be better if had more people like the herald in it. 
Especially if they could all make little crocks of shepards pie like the one that sits on his desk after a day of long meetings and a lyrium migraine. That might make everything right again.
-- Mod Fereldone
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Therapy 30.03.21 // eating disorder remission // part one
So this session I thought I would reflect on my eating disorder and how much better it is. I wanted to share this with T to kind of fix it in place, and to show her how far I have come. I talked away for a long time. Several months ago, we spent quite a few weeks wrestling with the idea of me eating cake. It was something I had a huge block about and that was still causing me a lot of eating disorder thoughts. Eventually we got me to a place where I felt like I was able to eat cake, which subsequently had lots of knock on effects, such as being able to eat sweet things at home, less cravings and obsessing, less chewing and spitting etc. It felt like the final big hurdle left in recovery had now been cleared.
I said how with my eating disorder, every eating episode became separate and disconnected from every other. So I couldn’t connect that what I ate or didn’t eat at one meal or on one day would have a knock on effect on the next meal or next day. Eating, appetite and fuelling my body didn’t “reset” every night. Eating a snack in the moment just became a very black or white choice, do I want to put these calories in my body? I couldn’t connect it up to how it was just a part of the whole day of eating. But gradually that’s something I’ve learnt to be able to do. To think about nourishing myself as a positive thing and how all these different meals and snacks combine to keep me well fuelled and healthy both mentally and physically.
I said how I didn’t want to say I was “recovered” because that seemed overconfident and like I was never going to stumble again. I mentioned that maybe it would be more accurate to say it was in remission. T didn’t seem to have come across that concept with regard to eating disorders before. She came back to it and said that was an interesting idea. I wish now I’d asked her a bit more about this, and about what she thought.
I said that although everything was pretty good right now, I could think of situations that might knock me pretty hard. For example, if I got a stomach bug and lost some weight, I feel like I would find that really triggering and I think I could easily fall into that downward spiral. I also said that I knew that in lockdown, life was about as unchallenging as it gets, foodwise. I was eating all my meals at home, eating exactly what I chose, no meals out, no coffee shops with cake to negotiate and so on. I’ve got to know my body pretty well over the last couple of years, and how it responds and what it needs in various situations and activity levels, and I feel like I am able to make healthy choices for myself now.
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iristhemessenger · 4 years
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Sugared Kisses
Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles
Relationships: Felix Hauville/f.Detective
Summary: It's Felix's birthday, and Eris surprises her boyfriend with a special treat <3Pure fluff and frosting, everyone <3
                                                           ~ * ~
"Can I look yet?"
Closing the door to Felix’s bedroom behind her carefully, Eris laughed softly to herself at the needy tone in her boyfriend's voice.
He had been fairly well-behaved, all things considered. The usually energetic young agent could be patient when he wanted to be, but those moments were rare. It was just his nature. He didn't like to wait or sit still too long if he could help it. There was too much to do and see in this world, so much to catch up on compared to the natives who grew up here.
The notion had been fun at first when she had suggested it, asking him sweetly with that lovely smile of hers. So, he had obliged her, with his best attempt at a sly smile, his curiosity piqued.
Now, sitting on his bed, eyes shut tight at her request, he was starting to get antsy. As evident by the impatient tapping of his foot against the carpeted floor, his lips pursed together in an adorable pout.
“Almost - no peeking!” She warned, flipping the lights off.
Felix felt his heart begin to pound loudly in his chest, as the light behind his eyelids disappeared.
“Oooooh, all alone in the dark?” He purred, “whatever could you be planning, babe?”
“You’ll see” She teased, her voice, soft and sweet. He could never get enough of the sound of it.
He could hear her own heartbeat, the rhythmic pulsing a familiar song to his ears and he grinned.
In the darkness, he smelled the familiar scent of tempting vanilla and blood unique to her and her alone as she came closer, crossing the room in a few easy steps. Felt her in the air as she suddenly kneeled before him, settling between his legs. He bit his lip, his own building excitement almost unbearable in the growing tension, as the desire to pull her closer, to feel her soft skin against his nearly consumed him.
He did his best to resist, not wanting to ruin whatever surprise she had in store for him.
"If you just wanted me all to yourself, babe, you could have just asked…" he joked, in an attempt to distract himself. “You know I would never say no to you.”
Then he heard the strike of a match, and the smell of fire. He tensed immediately, his skin prickling at the sudden, sharp warmth in surprise.
“It’s ok,” she soothed, her tone gentle and calming. He relaxed instantly. “Trust me?”
Releasing the breath he’d been holding, Felix nodded, resolute. Eris would never hurt him, he knew. She was smart, strong, yet also warm and loving at the same time. In her arms he always felt safe and secure. “Of course, always.”
He could practically feel the smile on her face at his declaration, the sight of it clear and beautiful in his mind’s eye. She always told him his smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, bright as the sun, filling her with irrational happiness and joy every time.
He had been proud and flattered to hear her say so. Preening like a bird at her honeyed words, but it was her smile, her happiness, that he treasured more than anything. It made his heart flutter and swell every time, knowing her smile was for him and him alone. They hadn't been together long, but Felix was already beyond head over heels for the woman.
He still couldn’t believe she’d picked him, some days it felt like a dream. One he never wanted to wake up from if he had his way.
“Ok, open them!” She announced, after a beat of excruciating silence.
Smiling in relief, he did as she bid.
To his delight, Eris was indeed kneeling between his legs, grinning from ear to ear in the soft glow emitting from the small flame she had created.
Curiously, he cocked his head to the side as he forced himself to look away from her face, gaze trailing down to seek out the source of the glow. She was holding something out to him, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand, presented for his approval.
It was a cupcake!
With purple frosting and bright, colorful sprinkles and a little wax figure candle in the shape of an exaggerated, plump unicorn. With a bright, rainbow-colored mane, glittering with sparkles that caught in the light of the fire burning atop it’s horn.
He took it from her, smiling as he examined it. He loved when she gave him little gifts like these, as evidenced by the small shelf he had dedicated to all the knick-knacks Eris had given him whenever something interesting caught her eye. It made him giddy, knowing she had thought of him when she was out and about.
"Happy birthday!"
Felix blinked, stunned.
"Wait-what?” he stammered, confused. “You...how?"
"Nate," She explained as he struggled to form a coherent sentence. “I figure as your official girlfriend now, it’s only appropriate that I know when your birthday is, right?”
Rising from the floor, she turned on the lamp sitting on his nightstand, casting them in a delicate light as she joined him on the bed. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind, she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his sweet, citrusy scent.
"I wanted to do something special for you. I know it's last minute and you don't usually eat this kind of stuff, but it was such a cute little cake, and I hoped you’d like the candle it came with,” She chuckled. “It reminded me of you. Happy birthday, Felix.”
"Babe…" Felix trailed off, once again at a loss for words.
Once upon a time such moments were a known rarity, his chattering endless and near legendary within the Agency. But his current tongue-tied state had since become almost commonplace with Eris around, constantly throwing him off his game and rendering him speechless under the love and attention she lavished upon him in return.
Like now, for instance.
He stared at the frosted treat, as if he had never laid eyes on one before. He had, of course. But this was...
Once he had discovered the customary importance of birthdays, Felix had insisted Unit Bravo celebrate as per tradition, to Nate’s amusement, Adam’s indifference and Mason’s annoyance (the colorful balloons and party banners making him cringe) But that was them, they were a team, a family, always together.
No one he had ever been with before had ever done something like this for him in the past, had never stayed long enough or been curious enough about him to even ask. Until now. But that was it, wasn’t it? Eris was different, she wasn’t like anyone else. Not by a long shot. From the way she made him feel to all the small things she did for him that never failed to take his breath away.
Her little gifts, which she bought just because she was thinking of him , like how he thought of her. The hours they spent talking on the phone after she got off of work, sometimes putting him on speaker as she went about her business cooking or cleaning because she loved hearing his voice as much as he loved hearing her’s. The gentle touches, caressing his face in comfort, brushing her leg against his, holding his hand, relishing the simple warmth and feel of the other. The soft kisses that made his heart flutter, and the more heated touches that kindled a yearning in him like he’d felt for no other.
Felix had told her once her happiness was his happiness. Vice-versa, for Eris, his happiness was also her’s.
Their happiness, in all its dazzling warmth and sunshine, all their own.
“Thank you, babe…this is…no one has ever…” Turning to face her, sparkling amber sought deep blue, and Eris smiled at the soft, almost somber expression on the vampire’s face.
Her smile only grew as he finally returned the gesture, practically beaming like the sun itself, her sun, unable to suppress the immense happiness and elation that was coursing through him in that moment. She was incredible, and she had done this for him . “This is amazing, you're amazing, the absolute best, and I love it!”
He sighed happily, savoring the sweet brush of her lips against his cheek.
“I’m glad, now, make a wish and blow out the candle!” She instructed, his joy contagious as she giggled, turning him back to the pudgy unicorn candle, the wax beginning to run down its horn. “Ready?”
Bobbing his head enthusiastically, Felix closed his eyes to make his wish. Taking only a second before his eyes flew back open and he quickly extinguished the candle’s flame. As if blowing it out quicker would make his wish come true that much faster.
Clapping, Eris cheered. “Congratulations, you’re a year older! Your…wait, how old are you now?”
“Hmmm, I don’t know” Felix admitted with a shrug, plucking the candle off the cupcake’s surface. “We don’t celebrate birthdays in the Echo World, but I think Nate figured maybe…over 70 or 80 years old? Somewhere in that ballpark.”
Now it was her turn to blink in surprise, laughing lightly. “Oh, wow…you know I never really thought about it, but it makes sense. You’re the youngest, but Adam is over nine hundred, and Nate and Mason are both over one hundred, at least. Compared to that, I feel so…hey?!”
Before she could stop him, he took a large bite out of the sweet confection. How could he not? She had picked it out special just for him, and it did smell...interesting. The purple frosting stained and smeared over his lush lips as he pulled away to chew the mush of chocolate and raspberry filling, contemplating the taste for a moment before shivering as the flavors overwhelmed him. His sense of taste suddenly assaulted by the foreign treat’s many stimulating ingredients. Particularly, the vast amount of sweetener and sugar.
“Felix? Babe?” Eris stared at the youngest member of Unit Bravo, carefully gauging his reaction to the treat.
His eyes, beautiful and wide, were a bit dilated, and Eris held a breath. Waiting for him to spit the goop of chocolate mush out in disgust. She knew a vampire's hyper senses made it difficult to process all the different flavors and such, but she had never seen Felix actually eat anything before. Though, he had confessed to trying a few things over the years.
"Felix, babe, are you o-!" She didn't get a chance to finish as the vampire suddenly whipped around, tackling her to the mattress as his lips sought her own in an urgent, messy kiss.
Moaning, she tasted the sugar, sweet and delicious in the warmth of his mouth, with a bite of the tart berry on his tongue as it caressed her own. Hungry and wanting, the sudden burst of lust drove them both, hips bucking and hands wandering, as Felix rode the sugar high along with his own desire to touch and feel his lover.
Eris was more than happy to oblige him, writhing under Felix’s eager attentions. He was the birthday boy, after all. All she had to give or offer was his for the day, he had but to ask, and honestly, any day after. Felix, with his captivating eyes and a smile that radiated like the sun, pulling her into his orbit effortlessly, invoking feelings in her she had never experienced before for another person.
Bobby had been a train wreck, selfish and ugly under all his faux charm and lies, and any casual dalliance or date following him just hadn’t clicked. Not like this. This, between them now, was akin to the fairy tales she had adored as a child. She enjoyed those romantic stories even as an adult, but time and reality had all but turned those idyllic fantasies into just that, fantasies. Daydreams that kept her hopeful and empathetic to those around her, like Tina, hoping for the best out of the worst.
Then Felix had appeared, along with the rest of Unit Bravo, turning her world upside down in some of the worst, and best ways. Even after all of the chaos, after Murphy and the Trappers that loomed in the shadows, she would continue to happily take the worst of it all if it meant keeping Felix by her side. He chased all those things away with a simple smile her way, making everything feel so…right and good in the world. In her world.
The minutes that passed were lost to them, as they rolled about Felix’s many bed covers, gasping and groaning, laughing and loving, but finally they pulled apart. Resting their foreheads together as they were want to do, neither eager to part as Eris caught her breath and Felix basked in the buzzing of the sugar in his veins and the feel of his girlfriend, heart and pulse thundering in his ears, pressed tightly against him.
"Best day ever…" he breathed, his smile bright and content, illuminating her world in its brilliance.
“It gets even better,” She promised, feeling his grin against her neck as he trailed messy kisses along her flesh.
“Oh, yeah? I doubt it could get much better than having you here with me,” he countered, the genuineness in his voice making her heart ache and swell with unbridled happiness and other emotions too deep and complicated to name.
She really hoped he enjoyed the surprise party she and Nate had put together earlier while he’d been confined to his room, currently waiting for them both in the living room along with the rest of Unit Bravo. The image of Mason and Adam blowing balloons would forever remain etched in her memory, as well as said vampire’s displeasure at the common room’s colorful makeover (the brighter the better!) and Nate’s ringing laughter as she had tossed streamers about over their heads.
But that could all wait, she thought as she keened at his touch and fervent kisses. She would have a messy trail of purple frosting all over her face and neck, but she didn’t care. This moment was theirs, and its sweetness would linger on her tongue long after they left this room.
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calypsoff2 · 3 years
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One.
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Licking my top lip as I walked into Tianna classroom “We have Tianna’ dad here, shall we all go outside and celebrate Tianna’ birthday” my daughter’ teacher said, Tianna pulled a face at me looking down, she didn’t want drama, so she says but it’s my daughter birthday, I’m gonna do a little something for her “yes!! Do we get cake!?” A kid in the classroom shouted, nodding my head “there is cake and food, the whole nine for her class. Tianna is paying you see” I joked, Tianna ain’t getting up from her seat to see me with her moody ass “if we all want to form a line so we can go outside and can we all thank Tianna’ dad too for doing this” making my way over to Tianna, she is either happy or moody, she is smiling either way “Thank you Tianna’ dad” the class said, crouching down to her “you not getting up from your seat, I got cake. Uncle TJ is here too, I got him to dress up as a Bratz doll” Tianna laughed “liar, that means he dresses like a girl” nodding my head “that’s because he does, I don’t get why you don’t want a party? What is wrong?” My daughters keep saying I do their hair badly; I think they are right with that point, Tianna hair is struggling “I don’t want it, I don’t want cake either” rolling my eyes “right, is that because mom didn’t FaceTime you, I told you baby. The time difference is really big, she was asleep. I mean I am not excusing her for not doing it but she knows how hectic it gets in the morning, Imani is demanding and you know that, but she will make it up to you. I am here anyways; Rylee is also coming out of class for you. You love Rylee don’t you” she nodded her head “come then, big seven for you baby. I can’t believe my baby is growing up so much” getting up from my position “I think she is ready now” Tianna is hundred percent the moody child, but I think it’s because of being the middle child and the fact she was born so close to Rylee, a year between them. She always kind of lived under that, I don’t think she got Robyn like Rylee did in a weird way, and also Tianna put Robyn’ plans back a lot and then she got pregnant again, like she was not happy about it but it happened. It sucks but it’s like Robyn is sacrificing her family time for this, I am doing it all and I can only do my best with these girls. They be stressing a nigga out, especially Rylee. She gives me heart pains and Imani; those two girls alone drive me crazy I am getting grey.
Tianna is getting shy as we made our way outside and her class started to sing Happy Birthday to her, looking down at her as she held my hand with a grip trying to hide away. Trying to pull her forward “come here” picking her up “Happy Birthday dear Tianna” I joined in smiling at my beautiful baby, she is so overwhelmed with her grumpy self picking her up “awww Happy Birthday princess, you going to blow the candles out baby, let’s do it” she’s so emotional “dad, I’ll do it for her” Rylee said stood right next to the cake “watch out, go on baby. Blow the candles out” leaning her down “hurry up Ti!!” Rylee spat; she eventually blew the candles out “yay!! Big girl, a whole seven years old” stepping back and placing her down on the ground “you like it baby? It’s bratz? You like bratz” she nodded her head, crouching down to her “you like? I’m glad you do” pressing a kiss to her cheek “TT, why are you crying for” TJ asked, wrapping my arms around her “she is overwhelmed” looking over at Rylee, she is busy wanting to eat “awww it’s ok, your friends are here” her little friends are just staring at her “why is she crying?” Her little white friend asked, “she is missing her mommy that is all, but she is ok” she moved back from me “I’m ok dad” she said that still emotional as hell “you sure?” I laughed a little “yes daddy” she sniffled; she is trying to be strong again. Rylee made her way over to me “come and eat now Ti, you are creating drama” Rylee said, she is forever headstrong that girl “she will, sit down. We will come and eat” getting up from my position, she is so sensitive this girl of mine.
I was expecting to go home but I am sat with my daughters eating lunch with them “remember, uncle is going to pick you up after school, I need to do a little interview and I won’t be able too so he will come and get you three. I will see you at home and then we leave for London, I am taking you out of school for this” Tianna clapped her hands “remember, this secret is between us. You don’t tell mommy, ok?” These girls can be such snitches, so I need to make sure they are on my side “so why was Tianna sad?” Rylee asked, “she is missing mom, we all are and it’s ok to be sad about it” I added, I don’t mind them being sad about it, I don’t want them to keep this to themselves now “mommy didn’t call” Tianna sad little voice “she called me” Rylee is a pain, side eyeing her “she called the phone, but you were asleep” I shushed her “why she call you!?” Here these two go “ok, that mobile phone is being taken off you both, you can’t share so you both not having it! Stop” girls are a pain, drive me crazy with their pettiness “dad, why Rylee call mom and I can’t?” Tianna turned in my lap “you were being a pain, remember you had to go bed early for being cheeky. Doesn’t matter now, just finish your food” I am tired, I need a break from these girls too. I am pretty much the stay at home dad, I may be in Fenty Corp, but these girls make me so busy that Jen is doing all of the work, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.
Now that is out of the way I can go to this big boy interview; I am blessed to be invited for this “how long you going to be out in London bro?” G asked, I shrugged “I am not sure, wife is just busy as hell. Like she is just throwing things out, one after another. At one point I didn’t know she was in Mexico at one point; I just know she is in London right now and I want to catch her there. It’s her Fenty clothing line fashion thing, so she’s there right now. I know she is missing us. So I will let you know” funny that she is calling when I am speaking on her, answering the call “Rabbit killer, you missed my middle pookie birthday celebrations” it sounds so busy in the background “don’t Chris, I already feel awful about this. I feel like shit already, sometimes I just think if I am doing wrong. I did ask Rylee to put Tianna on, but she said she got told off, I am missing so much Chris. I just feel stressed right now, I feel so bad, but I know if I FaceTimed her I would be crying but I feel bad, how is she?” Robyn asked; I know Robyn is feeling it, she is feeling a lot of pressure. She did have to stop and start projects, things got delayed because of her getting pregnant, and then again she did but we good over here, I mean the girls do miss her when she’s gone “very emotional, wants mommy and why didn’t mommy call and then Rylee kind of stirred the pot and said I spoke to her and I told her off, but we all miss you” which we do, I don’t want to pressure my wife like that “same, what about my little pumpkin. She’s still being the menace?” I chuckled “she’s still being the sly naughty one, if she draws on her stomach one more time, I’m gonna snap” I chuckled “you’re so good to them, I said to Rylee don’t be hard on him, she goes he doesn’t do hair like you, he isn’t you. We want you, but I said he tries but you are being the best dad ever, they are lucky” I cooed out “thanks, trying though babe” it’s hard as fuck to bring up girls, I do struggle sometimes.
Since being with Robyn, since being a father to three girls it has really humbled me so much and I’ve changed, I know I have changed a lot. I got new friends, new circle. Investing in things, I am big on social media, I do club events, not so much now but I am well known so when Big Boy asked if I wanted to come on for a sit down of course I said yes, he’s a good guy “good seeing you again” getting up from the seat and dapping him “you too, the show is about to start. I had to pee, sit down. We can have a good talk; this guy is a genius. We want to know what it is like to be married to Rihanna” I laughed as he sat down, Herb is with me here, but Big Boy is funny “in ten seconds” the producer announced, chewing on my bottom lip waiting to be counted in. Looking over at Herb “you going to spit bars?” shaking my head “that isn’t business like, we got to be professional bro. Relax” he is dumb “big boy radio, I told y’all we have everyone and anybody on the show and I have been seeing this guy a lot, you all may know him as Breezy, Chris Brown or Rihanna’ husband or for me. The luckiest motherfucker on this planet” I chuckled “we have Chris Brown on the show!” he shouted, the producers in the room clapped “what’s up?” I said smiling “we got Herb, Chris’ prodigy and friend. I just want to introduce Chris properly; I feel like I am not giving him the props and that is unfair of me. We have a young black man that was locked up, he’s come out, put his head down. Opened a clothing line, met his wife, ended up moving onto be a vice president, modelled. And then now he is moving onto handling music artists. He has given back to single fathers, you have a foundation specifically for single black fathers, I want to get into that really. How did that come about for you?” I feel proud of me, he didn’t even add Rihanna into that “erm, well I would be a hypocrite to say I know how it feels to be a single father or be in a household that has that but my best friend, my brother. He is a single father of a son. He lives in LA with his son and erm he just turned to me and said there is so many black fathers that are taking care of their kids with no help, nobody actually looks at them they see mothers. The help is always there for them, so we set up a group and we see these men just stepping up and it’s nice to see. We help them with getting jobs and stuff for the kids, tips too. It’s hard having daughters; I don’t know how anyone man does it without a woman to help them. So I have my mom come in, helps these men to do their daughters hair. She comes in every so often, because she is in VA, but they appreciate it so much. We have centres here and in New York, it’s beautiful to see black men stepping up because nobody ever speaks on them, we have that title that we don’t so yeah” rubbing the back of my head “amazing work Chris, it’s true. We don’t speak on that, we really don’t and when I read what you started, I thought yes. A black man helping other black men to rise, this is why when I saw you at Diddy party, I was donating. This is the moment, so I had to do this brother and get you on the show” dapping Big Boy as he reached his hand over to me.
“So Chris the biggest question here is, what is it like to be married to Rihanna? Come on, we all got that question, how long you been married for now? Seven, eight years now? You sure did put a ring on it quick too” I laughed “yeah, I had too. Actually it’s nine years and it has it’s testing times. Every marriage there is testing times like now, we are apart. She is in London, and I am here, I know people are saying. I say people but I know these people, they are like your home with the kids, and she is running around the country, one minute here, and the next she is in New Zealand and then China. This has nothing to do with them, I don’t mind it. My wife is living out her dream who am I to hold her back? I can work in Cali; I don’t need to be there. I can work from home and be here for the kids, why do we need to start jet setting around and disrupt the kids. I do miss her, it’s hard. Having three daughters, it’s so hard but being married to Rihanna is fruitful in many ways” I busted out laughing “as we can see, you got three kids nigga” Big Boy added “I don’t think it would have stopped, but Rihanna she had to hold back on her dream because she got pregnant again, then another year out, she released the album, and it was around the time she came back from the USA leg of the tour, she fell pregnant again, then her dream got put on hold again, so this whole Fenty Corp was in waiting for long, now I am kind of banned from sex” everyone laughed with me “I don’t blame her, how did you feel to have three girls? You must have felt damn, again!?” I sighed out “Rylee I was like yes, a girl. I am happy. Then with Tianna, we didn’t even find out, so I was like yes, a boy. Waiting there, the nurse turned to me and said girl, I was like ok I can take that, two girls. And then the third one, I shed a tear. Like not going to front, I did. But they are all my princesses, I am getting grey, quick too. I am going to die early; I am really just battling these girls. I got my youngest just being a wrecking ball, she is four and I be telling the eldest two and she is in the background just breaking the girl’s stuff, I don’t like telling her off because she reminds me of me” Big Boy cooed out “so you got a favourite?” I just smiled not saying a word “she is youngest too, so it happens brother” I miss Imani actually.
I haven’t packed anything come to think of it but I am home and I can only imagine the mess of the home, I do fucking miss Robyn. I be working hard here, it’s hard being here but I also don’t want to ask for help because it’s a think of if I ask my mom, then Monica doesn’t like it, she wants to be here too then Monica gets at Robyn because she isn’t home, she isn’t being a mother so it’s like I have to get on with it. Opening the front door, I can just hear screams of course. They are playing, it’s like schools out for them, I am taking them out of school just to go London to see Robyn, I miss her and the girls do too. Placing my car key in my pocket making my way to the noise “you kids are crazy” Imani saw me “mamacita!” she is just the sweetest “daddy” she ran to me “you been playing in dirt again?” picking her up, she didn’t answer me put yank my hat off “bro” walking towards TJ “just watching them play, they adamant they wanted to play in the pool” they really had to get the toys out “thanks for picking them up, you didn’t want to go in the water?” I asked “no!” she spat, frowning at her “I ain’t trust them with her, you know. So she stayed with uncle, didn’t you!” she nodded her head “he gave me cookies! I want juice” I bet she does after getting cookies “and what we say when we want cookies? The word” Imani played with my hat before placing it on her head “please!” she said it so I will.
These kids think they can get away with no cleaning the shit they bring out “Camron, I will whoop your ass too boy. Get your white ass outside and help” I caught him sneaking off “you know what TJ, this is the first time since Robyn left to go that we ordered pizza, I cook. Honest, but you know. It’s the night before we go so I thought why not, but once I get them all in bed then I will pack things” I dragged out, Robyn is calling. I stared at the call and then looked over at the kids “you not picking it up” I shook my head “if I do then they aren’t going to complete the task, and all they do. Including Imani will argue over the phone when she is on, I will call back when they are less hype. I am going to have it out with Robyn, not in a bad way but I want her to be at home more. Not even for me, the girls. It’s been a month now, she hasn’t been here, and they are missing her badly, I feel like I am not fulfilling their girly thing. Even Mel, she isn’t here none of the girls are so it’s like they miss that. We need to speak on it, they are growing, and they need her as much as they need me, you know” TJ nodding his head “tell her Camron does too” I chuckled “you take Tianna and I take Camron, I need a son” TJ laughed out “our kids are so lucky, I was just thinking and I am like the life they live is blessed, I am happy though. I am glad I have Camron with me” my smile grew, Rylee mean mugged me. She is Robyn, she hates when I am smiling when she is cleaning “I deadass nearly fell out laughing, Rylee came into bedroom and obviously Robyn ain’t here, so I am like clothes on the floor here and there, she goes mom doesn’t allow clothes on the floor dad, it’s a mess, pick it up. I stared at her and was like oh my god. You are literally Robyn, scary though” it does scare me “I am training Camron to look after his sisters, he got three too” I feel for that boy, even Imani bullies him so he got a lot to deal with.
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kookoobeans · 4 years
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Surprise surprise // Lucien
Genre: Fluff
Word count: 1,904
Summary: It's Lucien's birthday and you decided to surprise your handsome prince.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lucien's birthday is coming up so you decided to plan a surprise for him. You told the head of the orphanage he always visits with you your plan to which she agrees right away. After all, Lucien is the kids' favorite person and celebration the professor's special day together is a great idea. You want it to be perfect that you practically spend your breaks planning. Even Anna, Kiki, Minor and Willow help you from the beginning to end since you're also busy with the company. The day is going fast and it's actually a trouble hiding this to Lucien because your man is a smartass that he catches up easily on you. Always asking you questions which almost had you spilling the beans. Luckily, he's still clueless or so you hope. Soon enough the day finally came. You woke up early only to see the spot beside you empty. The covers are cold letting you know that it has been empty for a while now. You get up and walk to the living room to see Lucien reading. Slowly, you walk up behind him and wrap him in a tight back hug. He stops reading, put down his book and holds your hands.
“Hey, why are you up this early?” he asks you rubbing circles in your hand. You nuzzle your head in his neck.
“I should be the one asking you that.” He chuckles at your response. He faces you and kiss your forehead.
“I’m always up this early but it’s quite strange for you to be awake at this hour.” He said smiling as gentle as his hold on you.
“Well since its both our day off today. I was planning to ask you to go out with me so begone to the bathroom and change.” Its not actually your day off today, you just took a leave after finishing everything in advance. Victor was surprised that you report to him quite early and not days late this time.
“Is that your way of asking me on a date? I believe I should be the one doing that.” He said but still get up and drag you along.
“If you thinks it’s a date, then date it is. Besides, I can ask you on a date if I want to you know. Go ahead. Off you go!” you push a laughing Lucien in the bathroom. When you're sure that he can't hear you anymore, you dialed Kiki's number to check up on things. Hearing the bathroom door opens, you hang up without saying goodbye.
“You done? Wait for me in the living room. I'll be quick.” You didn't give him time to respond as you rush to the bathroom to groom yourself. When you come out, he was sipping tea. He rise up when he saw you.
“Shall we?” offering you his hand, you went out and make your way to the orphanage. He did ask you about your destination but you insist it's a secret. As you arrive at the orphanage, you can see Lucien being confused but didn't say a word. No one was around when you arrive which makes the place so quiet. You enter the garden and sit on a nearby bench.
“I’ll just go look for someone. I'll be quick.” You stand up ready to leave.
“I’ll go with you.” He also stands up but you push him back.
“No stay here, I won't take long.” He gave up and let you be. You make your way to the hall to change clothes and join everyone who's hiding since you arrive. You signal a kid to go to Lucien as planned. Your man sat quietly waiting for you return, just as he thinks you're taking too long a kid come up to him.
“Professor! This is for you!” the little boy hands him a small piece of paper.
“Hello. Thank you young man.” He takes the note as the boy runs away. He reads it smiling as soon as he sees the message.
‘Happiest birthday to the smartest scientist and kindest professor in the whole world. May you have a day as lovely as a butterfly and a life as beautiful as a rainbow.’ He flip the paper to see an instruction. ‘Go to the event hall, My prince.’ He chuckles at the nickname. As soon as he step into the hallway, he is greeted by little princes and princesses all lined up holding flowers.
“Hello Prince Lucien.” The kids say in unison, bowing in the process.
“Greetings your majesties. You all look lovely in those clothes.” Lucien play along and bow down. His smile never leaving his face. Two princess came up to him holding a crown and clothes for a prince.
“This is for you. Your princess is waiting for you right down the hall.” They say excitedly handing him the clothes and the crown. He gently takes them and put it on.
“Then I suppose I should get going. I can't let the princess wait for too long.” The kids giggle and make way for him. When he reach the event hall, the music starts playing as soon as he enters. There he saw, his beautiful princess in her dress waiting for him. The place is decorated enchantedly. You turn around and smile sweetly at him. He walks up to you reflecting the smile you have. The moment he's right in front of you, you give him the flower you're holding.
“Happy birthday! Would you give me the honor of dancing with you, My prince?” you ask stretching your hand towards him. He gladly takes your hand and kiss it.
“It would be my greatest pleasure to dance with such beautiful princess.” The both of you dance through the music. Both lost in each other as you barely notice everyone enter the hall and watch you two dance. As the song finishes, the lights turn dim. You tiptoed and cover his eyes. Anna enters holding a cake. When everything is settled, you slowly remove your hands as everyone sings happy birthday. He makes a wish and blow the candles. He looks at you, happiness can be seen in his eyes. He hugs you tight.
“Thank you. You know you don't have to go around tiring yourself out making this. Having you with me is more than enough.” You hug him back, looking up at him.
“I know but I want to. Besides, this is the first time we celebrate your birthday like this after you revealed your real birthday. Everyone was so excited.” He didn't respond. He just smiles at you and kiss you sweetly. Out of all the birthdays he celebrated, this is the first time he celebrates it with other people. it's usually just the two od you. His birthday is a secret only the two of you knows but after some time, he seems to warm up and feel comfortable to particular people that's why he decided to reveal his birthday to them earlier this year. All of those people are here today. Thanks to them, this surprise is possible. Although its not the time for you to be relieve yet. You still got one more surprise for him which you plan to give at home when you're alone. You are nervous as you don't know hot to tell him that you went to the doctor yesterday and got some good news. Putting your worries aside, you get another plate full of food. When you reach your table, you immediately munch on them. Lucien noticed that you are eating fast.
“Slow down, you can take your time eating.” He said gently holding your hand. You chew on the food and he wipe off your mouth with a napkin.
“Yeah boss slow down. That's your second plate already.” Minor said amazed at how much you've eaten.
“You’ll get fat if you continue eating a lot.” Kiki teases you as you have always been conscious about your weight. You glare at her as your mouth is full and Lucien could only laugh.
‘Oh I remember, I was also like that when I was pregnant with my first child.” The head of the orphanage said, looking like she is reminiscing the old times. The moment she said the word pregnant, you started choking on your food and had both Kiki and Minor spitting their drinks.
“W-what?” Anna asks, her eyes wide.
“It’s true. I eat more than what I used to when I was pregnant. Wait, are you pregnant?” the woman asks you curiously. You are still coughing as Lucien gently pats your back and offer you a glass of water. You gulp it down and heave a sigh of relief.
“Are you okay?” Lucien asks you worried and rubs your back in a soothing way. You nod your head in response. The moment you look up, you see everyone looking at you.
“Uhhhh….” You fidget with your fingers.
“Now that you mention it. She does eat more than usual. And on top of that, she eats certain types of food.” Anna interrupts. The rest in the table are listening carefully.
“Yeah she also said she's not feeling well these past few days.” Minor said, adding fuel to the fire.
“She even crave for strawberries yesterday.” Willow who has been silent the whole time spoke.
“And lastly, you gained weight!” Kiki said dramatically earning a nod from your other colleagues.
“So is it true?” the head asks. You're now more nervous than ever. Everyone is looking at you waiting for answer. Hearing your colleagues speak, Lucien also remembers a time when you cry over a cartoon which has a happy ending. It's a happy ending and a cartoon so you crying startle him. You look at the man beside you. He answers you with a smile. Your heart calms down a little. Gathering up the courage, you nod your head not breaking eye contact with him.
“I went to the doctor yesterday and I found out I'm pregnant.” Lucien’s smile grow wide as you hear cheering and congratulations in the background. He hugs you tight.
“Sorry I didn't tell you yesterday. It was suppose to be a small surprise for later when we get home but I guess the cat's out of the bag.” You said scooting closer to him. He holds you tighter, caressing your hari.
“Its okay. I still got surprised anyway.” He pulls away from the hug and placed a hand on your still flat stomach. He gently rubs it, eyes shining the brightest that you've ever seen. Slowly, he leans down and plant a soft peck in it. Your heart melts at the sight of him. When he rises his head, he rests his forehead on yours.
“Thank you for giving me the best gift.” You are left speechless. The two of you stayed like that without a care in the world. The celebration in your surroundings has been long forgotten. It's like there's just the two of you in that moment. The nervousness you felt earlier is now replaced by certainty. The rest of the day was spend partying. Through the whole day up until evening, Lucien never leave your side. He holds you close and extra careful as if he's holding the most fragile thing in the world. If it's him, then you're sure. Having a little angel that you both created would be a wonderful experience.
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glenngaylord · 3 years
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Glenn Gaylord’s Capsules From The Bunker – Summer 2021 Lockdown Style
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Like many of you, I’ve lost all concept of space and time during this lockdown era. I’d watch movie after movie, but somehow forget to write about them. I’d consume films for sustenance, but then I’d move on to the next task of cleaning a room, doing a crossword puzzle, or staring at my dog for hours on end. Thank goodness I have a few friends to have breakfast with every now and then, or else I’d have assumed I had been transported to a cabin in Montana. “Am I a film critic or a hermit?” I’d ask myself daily…that is, if I even understand what days are anymore. All of this is to say that I have a lot of catching up to do now that we’ve taken a baby step or two towards returning to some sense of normalcy. Wait a minute. What’s that? Highly transmissible variants? Back into the cave I go. While I still can, I’ve managed to blurt out a few capsule reviews of some films worth mentioning.
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In Between Gays – Film Review: Summer Of 85 ★★★★
Prolific French filmmaker, François Ozon, has made a career out of finding dark crevices in the most unexpected of places. Here, with Summer Of 85, he tweaks this New Wave era gay romance just enough to upend our expectations. In pure Talented Mr. Ripley meets Call Me By Your Name meets Luca fashion, Ozon spins what could have been that sun-dappled, seaside summer that changed everything into a love that perhaps never was, zeroing in instead on a young man’s obsession for something unobtainable. Beautifully shot and acted, Ozon takes the story to more provocative places than you’d initially expect while still maintaining the boppy fizz of a great Cure song. Despite the mish mash of tones, the film has a pulse all of its own. It’ll make you swoon, pull the rug out from under you, and then make you wonder how he managed to quietly get a little twisted.
Summer Of 85 currently in select theaters, see official website for details. Released on DVD and BluRay August 17th.
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Truffle In Mind – Film Review: Pig ★★★★
Writer-director Michael Sarnoski makes an auspicious feature debut with the story of a man searching for his stolen truffle-hunting pig. Caked in dirt, blood and looking not so much like a homeless man but as a person who died inside a thousand times over, Nicholas Cage gives one of his best performances ever as a man who seeks the truth at all costs. He asks his only connection to the outside world, Amir, played wonderfully by Alex Wolff, to drive him through Portland’s dark underbelly to retrieve his pet companion.
Although the film takes us to a rather unbelievable “Fight Club” moment, it generally holds its mood with credibility. It’s a great calling card, not only for Sarnoski, but also for his talented cinematographer Patrick Scola, who brings a painterly quality to every single image. The film finds beauty in a bite of food, a breath of air, or simply the compassion between two main characters who have seemingly little in common. It’s a shame the trailer elicits laughs when Cage utters lines like, “Who has my pig?” Clearly they want to sell the actor’s neo-gonzo persona, but Cage brings so much depth and seriousness to this project, only raising his voice once. He deserves the highest praise for committing to such an oddly touching, gorgeously quiet story. At risk of sounding Dad-jokey, the only thing that hogs the scenery is his porcine friend.
Pig is in theaters now.
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All Is Lost – Film Review: Old ★★
In 1999, M. Night Shyamalan made a great film, The Sixth Sense, and has been chasing that dragon ever since, often to diminishing returns. His films, however, often do well because he has great concepts, a keen eye for visuals and timing, yet things always seem to turn clunky and inane real fast. With Old, he continues down that path by giving us something compelling—a group of people on a beach who age quickly—and ruining it with dialogue seemingly written by an algorithm and rendered unintelligible much of the time, while the terrific cast seem to have no idea how to make Shyamalan’s words sound any better than a high school play. A couple of sequences did make me sit up and take notice, and he uses compositions and offscreen space well, but overall, Old plays like a stretched-out episode of Lost, and like that cool but overstuffed series, you’re not gonna get very good explanations as to what transpires. Sure, the big twist works well enough on some level, but it doesn’t save you from the discomfort of watching good actors flatline in more ways than one.
Old is currently in theaters nationally.
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Hi Fidel-ity – Film Review: Revolution Rent ★★★1/2
Shot in 2014, Andy Señor Jr., who played Angel on Broadway along with a host of other credits, staged the classic musical Rent in Havana during a thaw in our relations with the Communist regime. He did so against the wishes of his Cuban family, who suffered under Castro and insisted his production would merely serve as a propaganda tool for the government. He plows ahead instead, capturing the months long process in a rather artless home movie style. The aesthetics don’t carry any weight here when you have such a compelling subject matter. Witnessing his actors struggling with their performances while also living in harsh conditions adds new layers to the late Jonathan Larson’s story of squatters in the age of AIDS.
With a limited talent pool, one of whom doesn’t feel comfortable with the gay subject matter and another who lives with HIV himself, Señor finds new connections to Larson’s material as well as an affection for his heritage. What we may have taken for granted here in the US in terms of sexuality and gender expression feels like a whole new experience when seen through a Cuban lens. Señor speaks out against the Castros with quick sequences showing moments of oppression, thus preventing this film from perpetuating the lies of its government. Instead, he gifts the people of this poor, struggling country with a real sense of community and its first burst of musical theater in ages. Sure he’s a privileged westerner who dangles hope in front of people only to return to his cushy life, but he does so with heart and good intentions. You end up loving and rooting for his cast in this moving, sweet documentary.
Revolution Rent is currently streaming on HBO Max.
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Do The Hustlers – Film Review: Zola ★★★★
Call me wary when I went to see a movie based on a viral twitter thread and directed by Janicza Brava, whose Sundance Award-winning short, Gregory Go Boom, proved to be not only tone deaf but downright offensive towards people with disabilities. Her new film, Zola, excels however, in ways her prior work has not. Taylour Paige, a standout in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, plays the title character, a stripper who meets Stefani (Riley Keough) one night and is convinced to travel with her down to Florida where they can make a lot of money dancing all weekend. Things, however, do not go as planned, with Zola’s story escalating from one insane twist after another. Paige and Keough are outstanding, as are Nicholas Braun and Colman Domingo as their traveling companions. Jason Mitchell, so great in Straight Outta Compton and Mudbound, brings a wild, dangerous energy, something he shares with the film itself. It comes across as The Florida Project meets Hustlers, but with its own surreal, unexpected tone. I laughed out loud often, especially with Paige’s loopy reactions to her surroundings and the giddy, zippy energy on display. Zola chews you up, twerks on your face, and spits you out, exhausted yet anxious to see whatever this talented group of people will do next.
Zola is currently playing in select theaters and available on demand.
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Banned On The Run – Film Review: There Is No Evil ★★★★
It’s impossible to review There Is No Evil without giving away its central premise, so I will avoid as much description as possible. Iranian filmmaker Mohammad Rasoulof has crafted a four-part anthology of sorts around an agonizing moral issue important to people worldwide. At the end of the first part, a stunning cut to an unforgettable visual reveals everything and allows you to watch the rest with informed eyes. Rasoulof seamlessly excels at different genres, from family drama, to action escape, to romance, weaving a tale of such depth and sorrow for its talented cast of characters.
The making of it proves as interesting at the film itself. Banned by the regime from producing feature films for two years and prohibited from traveling outside of Iran, Rasoulof, like any crafty filmmaker, came up with an ingenious plan. He slipped under the radar by calling these four short films, mostly shot in small towns far outside the reach of Tehran, and then had the final product smuggled out of the country. A filmmaker with such talent not only at telling stories, but the with ability to will his vision into existence against all odds, deserves the world’s attention.
There Is No Evil is available on DVD, BluRay and VOD now.
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In Space No One Can Hear You Think – Film Review: F9: The Fast Saga ★★★
Considered review-proof, the Fast and the Furious franchise has ruled the box office for the past 20 years, so my calling its latest entry, F9: The Fast Saga, monumentally dumb will have zero influence on anyone’s decision to see it. We all know it’s big and stupid, as do the filmmakers. These films, deliver said stupid with such gusto, that you simply surrender and have a great time nonetheless. Nothing, however, prepared me, for this series to go all Moonraker, sending a car to a place no car has ever gone before. You’ll know it when you see it and probably say, “That’s ludicrous!” and also say, “That’s Ludacris!”
F9: The Fast Saga is currently playing on every screen on Earth and in select theaters throughout the universe.
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