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#again not very romantic but it can almost be reas as such
unreadpoppy · 7 months
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Swan Song
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a Raphael Swan Lake rewrite AU I guess?
Summary: Odille has always lived in her sister's Odette shadow. When both of them are turned into swans by the devil Raphael, she couldn't be more livid, especially as her sister falls in love with the handsome Wyll Ravengard. When Raphael makes the proposition of a lifetime, Odille's wicked nature will come to the surface.
A/N: This is an wild ass AU that has been living in my head rent free for some time. No canon is followed here, this is way more of a Swan Lake rewrite, but there's still some Raphael stuff (it's not necessarily romantic but honestly, take it as you want it). Also, tw for murder.
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This is a tale of two sisters. 
Odette, the oldest, was the pride and joy of the family. With bright, blond hair, eyes as blue as sapphire and white skin, to her father, she was beauty incarnate. She was a kind hearted girl, as graceful as a swan when she danced around in the living room, and with a charming smile that could melt even the hardest of hearts. 
All in all, Odette was perfect. As her father would often say, it was as if she had been blessed by the gods themselves upon her birth.
Her sister, Odille, however, was not as fortunate. 
Being the daughter of a second wife, Odille looked nothing like her sister. Her hair was pitch black, her eyes were of a swamp green color and her skin was pale from the lack of sunlight. 
Odille didn’t sing or dance, her smile didn’t shine as bright as the sun, and people didn’t pay attention to her. In fact, even her father often forgot about her. 
While Odette was free to do as she pleased, Odille had to keep the house clean and take care of their parents - that being the reason she rarely left the house. 
Their parents had died a few years earlier, due to a terrible sickness, leaving the two girls on their own. Odille thought she would finally be free, but her dying mother’s last words had doomed her.
‘Promise me you’ll take care of Odette. Promise me.’ And so she did, finding work to sustain the both of them, while Odette remained the carefree girl she had always been. 
Odille lived in her sister's shadow, and for that, she hated Odette. She hated how all the men in the village showered her with gifts and pretty words, how their father, when still alive, would embrace her and kiss her forehead; She hated how beautiful her sister was, how perfect at anything she was, how she had a heart of gold. Odille believed her heart to be a black mass of hatred, a twisted shape of vines and thorns, grown with years of resentment. 
So when the news that poor, beautiful Odette had been transformed into a swan, Odille cried tears of joy. 
With her sister gone, everyone would pay attention to her. No longer would she be the invisible little girl, always inside her home but the one all eyes were turned to. She would find a handsome man to marry and all would be well.
That’s what she believed at first, but the reality had been completely different. 
Once the news spread of Odette’s misfortune, all the men in the village ran to the forest, crying at the loss of such beauty. When night fell, the swan turned back into the girl and she was able to explain her situation. 
“I had come to the forest to pick flowers, when a handsome man came up to me.” She began her tale. “He said he had never seen someone as fair as me, and asked for my hand. I refused him, and then he offered riches. When I refused him again, he offered land. And when I refused him for the third time, he revealed himself to be a terrible fiend by the name of Raphael. He put a curse on me - by day, a swan and by night, a woman again.” 
The crowd cried, feeling for poor Odette. Her sister had stood aside, far away from most people, the blood in her veins beginning to boil. Even in this situation, her sister still attracted the attention of everyone.
“But do not weep for me, as I can still be saved. I have been told by one of the druid’s who guards these woods that there is a way to break the curse. If a man, who has never loved before, proclaims his love for me before the season’s change, I shall return to my true form.”
“And what happens if that doesn’t happen?” A young man asked. 
“Then Odette will stay a swan, forever more.” A grave voice had answered, seemingly coming from the wind itself. Then, near where the girl stood, a great fire rose and from it, a devil appeared. 
Gasps and protests were heard all around as Odette pointed at him. “It was him - he is Raphael, the one who cursed me!” She shouted. 
Red skin, head crowned with horns, a long tail and wings, the fiend wore long, black garments. People began to shout and curse at him, one person in particular throwing a rock at him. With a snap of his fingers, the boy turned to ash.
“Enough of this noise, all of you.” His voice boomed. “Odette’s fate is sealed, and I fear there is nothing to be done. Try to oppose me and you will live very short lives.” The crowd went silent at the threat. “Now, all of you, leave right this instant, lest you share in his fate.” 
At the command, all but Odille left. She decided to stay hidden behind a tree, listening as Raphael turned his attention to her sister. 
“How could you be so cruel?” The girl cried. 
“Ah, my dear swan, there are men much crueler than me in the world.” He said, his fingers caressing her face, and she quickly turned from him in disgust. Deep down, Odille felt envious, wishing her to be the one receiving that touch. “Now, I can end your torment right this instant. Accept me, and be human again.” 
“No.” 
From where she stood, Odille could see Raphael’s face turn into a scowl. “Very well. It seems I’ll have to punish you.” 
“There is nothing you can do to hurt me anymore.” Odette defied him. 
“Isn’t there?” He asked in a mocking tone. He looked around, humming in thought. “You know, these woods can get quite lonely. What if I give you a friend?” 
“What-what do you mean?” 
“Well, it seems your dear sister didn’t listen when I told all to leave.” Raphael spoke and with a snap of his fingers, Odille was in front of them, wide eyed. 
“Do not hurt her!” Odette cried, but he raised a hand, stopping her from walking closer. 
“You think too lowly of me. I would never hurt you or your sister.” He smirked. “No, as I said, I shall give you something to keep you company.” 
He waved his hand and Odille was engulfed by flames. 
She was overwhelmed by the heat and the sound of her sister’s scream, and when the world came back to normal, everything seemed much bigger - or maybe she was smaller.
“NO!” Odette screamed horrified. 
Odille tumbled near the pond, catching her reflection in the water. Instead of a woman, she saw a black swan staring back at her. 
“Do not worry. When morning comes, she will turn back into a human.” He told Odette. 
“But-but, when the sun rises, I’ll be a swan.” 
“Yes. If I were you, I’d cherish these few more precious hours until dawn arrives.” Raphael made a motion to leave. ‘Now, if I were you, I’d hush about the solution to your little curse, lest you want a true taste of my ire.” And with the sound of a snap, he was gone. 
Even as a swan, Odille lived in her sister’s shadow. 
At day, she was forced to watch as various men from the village proclaimed their love to Odette, only for nothing to happen. At night, she saw her sister dancing sadly along the pond, the other forest animals joining her.
No men came to profess their love for Odille. No one had even seemed to notice she had shared in her sister’s fate. Her hatred for Odette only grew more and more. If it wasn’t for her, Odille could have been far away now, free from her, but no, Odette had to reject the devil, she had to defy him, and now Odille was still trapped with her. 
A month had passed in this predicament, when something changed. One day, a few hours before sundown, an arrow flew across the pond, almost hitting Odette. 
Odille, who was sat upon a large tree, watched as a young, handsome man ran towards the swan, raising his arrow, ready to strike. She saw the swan flying away, narrowly missing the arrows again and again, and Odille silently wished that one arrow would pierce her sister’s chest. 
But, to her dismay, night arrived, and the sisters positions were changed, the man watching in awe as the swan became a beautiful woman. Odille was quick to fly down from the tree and into the pond, listening to their conversation. 
“I apologize, my lady.” He bowed his head. “I am Wyll Ravengard.I was out hunting when I saw the most beautiful of swans. Had I known of your true self, I would have stopped sooner.” 
“You had no way of knowing.” Odette smiled at him. 
“But tell me, how could this be? Are you some sort of druid?”
She shook her head. “No, I am not. I was cursed by a terrible devil to turn into a swan during the day. My sister-” She pointed at the black swan “was cursed as well.” 
Wyll scowled. “These devils…they fool around with the lives of innocent people.” His gaze softened. “I am sorry that this has happened to you. The both of you.” 
“Thank you.” She took a step closer to him. “Please, keep me company before I turn back to that form.” 
He nodded and Odille watched in contempt as they spent the night talking and dancing. The little relief she got was that, whenever the two would get too close, she’d begin singing that terrible swan song, distracting the two. 
But for one month, that was how her night’s would play out. Odille would swim around while her sister smiled and blushed at Wyll. During the day, Odille would think about all the ways she could wrap her hands around Odette’s neck and snap it. 
How, if it wasn’t for the fear that the curse would persist, she would have ended Odette long ago. 
But Odille would not have to wait long until an opportunity arrived. 
The night before, Wyll had told Odette how he had captured her heart. He told her that he was the son of a duke, and that his father commanded a ball to be held in his name, where Wyll should find one woman to claim as his wife. 
He wanted Odette to attend and to declare in front of all his love for her. She blushed at the thought and kissed him, telling Wyll that she would go. Then, she proceeded to spend the rest of her time telling Odille how excited she was at the prospect of being free. 
If her swan face allowed it, Odille would have scowled. 
When morning came, the dark haired girl walked to the edge of the forest, as far away from the pond as she could. During her walk, she couldn’t help but murmur. 
“Perfect Odette, who gets a handsome son of a duke to fall for her. Odette, who’s so kind, sweet and who everyone loves. Perfect, perfect, perfect.” Odille walked in circles as she spoke to herself. “‘Oh, look at me, I’m Odette, I can do no wrong.’ Ugh, how I wish I could make her stop talking.” 
“If I had known you held this much hatred for your sister, I would have approached you much sooner.” Raphael’s voice snapped her back into reality. 
He appeared to her just as he had that first day. Odille huffed and walked past him, but he held onto her arm. “Ah, ah, ah, not so fast, little swan.” 
“Let me go.” She said, twisting her arm to try and get out of this grip, but he was stronger than her. 
“And why would I do that, when you have just become essential to my plans?” At that, she stopped struggling and looked at him suspiciously. 
“I don’t want anything to do with you, devil.” She spat. 
“Oh but you will.” His eyes darkened as he smirked. “What if I could give you the means to be free, for once and all? To end the curse.” 
Odille's eyes widened. Could he truly be offering such a thing? 
“What are you trying to get at?”
At this point, Raphael had let go of her arm, and she stood there, listening intently to every word he had to say.
“Let me tell you a story.” He began. “Long ago, all of this land belonged to me, given to me by my father, Mephistopheles. I ruled with a strict but fair hand, this forest being a haven for those in need.” Raphael walked around, moving his arms as he told his tale, almost as if he was an actor in a play. 
“That was until I was struck down by the forces of the Blade of Frontiers, Wyll Ravengard. He sought to rid the realm of any devilish influence and so, my reign was over. For years, I have been harnessing my power back and finally, a good opportunity to take the boy down has arrived.” 
“And how do I fit in all of this?”
“Patience, dear.” He raised a hand to calm her. “Ravengard has fallen madly in love with your sister, and if he proclaims his love for her, her curse will end, but with your help, I can take down two birds with one stone.” 
She raised a brow, urging him to continue. 
“Tonight, instead of your sister, it will be you who will go to the ball. With a simple charm, you will look like her. Stay there long enough for the boy to choose you as wife and then strike him down with this.”
Raphael reached a hand forwards and a dark blade appeared in his hands. 
Odille gulped. “Why do you need my help for this? Can’t you do it yourself?”
“Ravengard, foolish as he is, is not dumb. He has put a spell on his home, which prevents my entrance. Once he is gone, however, I’ll be able to take over.”
She took a step closer to him, her hand hovering above the weapon. “And what of my sister?”
“The heartbreak of Wyll’s betrayal will be too grand for her to take. I have no doubt she would not be long for this world after his demise.” With the dagger in his hand, Raphael walked behind Odille, his larger body looming over hers as he whispered in her ear. “I’ve been watching you, Odille. I know how you feel, the anger, the hurt, the envy. I could fix it all like that.” He snapped his fingers, a small flame appearing. “No more sister to bother you, no more living in the shadows. You would be the center of attention and all would talk about you for years to come. Do we have a deal?”
Odille thought for a moment. She had fantasized about this situation for so long, it didn’t seem possible but here it was. A quite literal devil on her shoulder, whispering to her all the things she had longed to hear. 
She always knew it was wrong to think of killing her sister, but this way, she wouldn’t have to get her hands dirty with Odette’s blood. This way, she would get what she always wanted. 
Without a word, Odille grabbed the blade. 
Wyll had been none the wiser. When he saw Odille - disguised as her sister - he walked towards her, pulling the girl into a dance. 
Odille noticed the way he looked at her, eyes full of love and a kind smile. She almost felt bad for what she was to do. 
Almost. When she remembered all she had seen and endured because of her sister, the weight of the blade felt lighter. 
As the night reached its end, Wyll finished the dance, holding her hand and telling everyone in the room. 
“Ladies, gentlemen, friends, hear! I have found the one I shall wed. The one who has captured my heart, the one whom I shall share the rest of my life with!” He got down on one knee, holding her hands. “I love you, like I have loved no other. You, and only you, shall be the one I love.” 
Odille smiled, placing a hand on his face. But soon, her smile turned more wicked and vile. 
“Oh, Wyll. Love truly makes us fools, doesn’t it?” She said. Wyll frowned in confusion, looking around when a loud noise hit one of the windows. 
He turned his head, just in time to see the swan he had grown to love flying near the glass and then falling, having just heard his confession. He turned back to Odille, his face falling. 
“No…” Wyll got up and ran towards the window, looking down the balcony to see the swan, now turned back to Odette’s body, laying bloody on the ground. “ODETTE! NO!” 
In his confusion and despair, he didn’t notice how Odille had silently approached him. It was only when the dagger pierced his back that he understood what happened. 
People screamed, running around in a panic. Odille stood there, looking at the body of her sister, dead on the floor. 
She should feel sad, but instead, Odille felt happy. 
Wyll was laying next to her feet, his blood dirtying the balcony. The smell of sulfur filled the air, and from a circle of fire on the ground, Raphael appeared in all his glory. 
Clapping his hands, he walked to where Odille was. “My, my, what a beautiful display that was.” He crouched down, removing the blade from Wyll’s body, wiping it with a handkerchief. “You were marvelous, my dear. Are you satisfied?” 
“Quite so.” She sneaked one last glance to her sister, before turning her full attention to the devil. “Now, for your part of the deal.” 
“Of course.” Raphael waved a hand and Odille was once again engulfed by flames, feeling her body change. Black feathers grew from various parts of her body, covering her arms, legs, torso and neck. Her feet elongated, becoming talons and from her back, a pair of giant wings appeared. 
Odille was confused. She was supposed to become human again and not…this. 
“What have you done to me?” 
“I have changed you, of course! I never said you’d go back to what you were, dear.” He could see the panic begin rising in her and he smirked, stepping forwards, and giving her back the dagger. “You look marvelous, my black swan.” 
Taking it, Odille saw her reflection, how her body had changed and for some reason, she liked what she saw. In this form, she would be free to fly wherever she wanted, and all head would turn when she walked. She was no longer bound by familial bonds, free to do as she wished. 
“Now come, there is much work to be done, and I believe you and I will be grand partners.” Raphael offered her a hand, and with a wicked grin, Odille took it. 
The end. 
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thatoddgent · 2 years
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Sweetheart [Part Two] (Aether x Fem!Reader)
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A/N: Wanna say a quick thank you for all the support that I've received on everything I've posted so far, I'm happy that people are liking what I'm working so hard on and I appreciate you all! This is part two to my Valentines Day post, so if you haven't read that yet then you can here! I hope that you like this, and feedback is always appreciated. <33
Genre: Smut, sweet and romantic since that's what won in the poll!
Warnings: Porn with plot, P in V sex, drunk sex? (Both parties and very light buzz), biting/marking, L bomb, blood (not super graphic).
The garden felt so lonesome, you staying back after bidding farewell to the ghoul so you could relish in the moment. It was almost surreal, but you don't have the time to sit around and think about it all day, you had a party to get ready for.
The siblings and staff were excused from wearing their habits and other such uniforms, instead they were expected to wear distinguished - yet still festive - clothing. Since you played a part in designing and putting together the suits for Papa and his ghouls, you were lucky enough to have an idea of how they would look, and decided to go for something that would play nicely with the colors Aether would be wearing.
Shuffling around through your closet, you finally found the dress you had been looking for, you didn't have much reason for dressing up in the abbey so you jumped at the opportunity to wear it.
Slipping out of your habit and veil, you get the dress situated on yourself and move to the mirror to make sure everything is in place. The dress was stunning, deep burgundy colored fabric clung to your body, with a slit on the thigh accentuating your hips. It had a modest neckline to distract from the sultry bottom half, with lacey off-the-shoulder sleeves hanging delicately from your arms. You paired the dress with a set of black heels that you knew you would be comfortable in, and a lovely little silver necklace with a purple stone.
You kept your makeup simple, not wanting it to get ruined in the midst of the party, applying a nice gloss with eyeliner and mascara, just enough to bring out the color of your eyes and the shape of your lips. A layer of hair was pinned back, leaving half of it down to further frame your face.
When you looked in the mirror, you were almost in awe, it had been so long since you had done yourself up like this, in a way, you missed it.
A knock at the door interrupted you from your thoughts, and you opened it to find Marjory smiling. Her mouth drops at the sight of you, and yours at her.
"Dear Asmodeus! You're going to be the star of the party showing up like that, you make me look like I'm doing nothing more than running a few arrands!"
You giggle at the sweet response, gesturing both hands up to her.
"Me? Look at you! No wonder you were able to steal that poor boys heart, I'd be more worried that you've stolen them from all the brothers in the ministry!"
You move to the side and gesture for Marjory to come in, leaving the door open in case any other friends happen to stop by. You two sit on the bed and talk, trying to pass some time while you wait for the Banquet to begin.
Eventually Liza finds her way into the room as well, mouth already going off spewing the latest gossip she could scrounge up.
"So," She begins. "Did he ask you?"
A goofy smile glues itself to your face, and you nod your head quickly, still giddy about the whole thing. And, once again, you have both of the girls squealing loud enough for those outside to hear. It's like when you first joined the ministry, no worries but fawning over boys and trying your best not to get caught slacking by your higher ups, you're glad that you've made such good friends.
You three quiet down a bit and continue talking until the church bells begin to bellow a melody throughout the halls, signally that the party is soon to start. The halls quickly fill with people making their way to the dining hall, which had been rearranged and decorated to look like a place that only royalty could afford. Copia was as victim to a love for flare and drama as his brothers before him, so it only made sense that he wanted to set the mood for romance.
You admired the room from the doorway, waiting and looking for the ghoul you were set to enter with. You felt yourself getting nervous as you watched countless other sisters find their partners and seat themselves at the tables, he wouldn't have stood you up, right?
Now that you think about it, Papa wasn't here, neither were the others ghouls that were to accompany him. Before you had a chance to wonder any longer, an elderly sister came up behind you and rested a hand on your shoulder.
"Go on dear, enjoy the fun. I'm sure that who you're looking for will find you in due time, don't soil it by waiting out here all night."
You smile at the woman and nod, taking one last look in the hall before entering the hall, finding a seat next to Liza. She looked at you with a hint of worry in her eyes, she was without a date too, but you shouldn't be wallowing with her right now, unlike her you had plans.
She nudged your arm with her elbow and offered you a smile, which you returned quickly. Even if something did happen, at least you had her. Your gaze fell to the centerpieces that you three had worked on just a few hours earlier.
Sweet music soon started wafting through the air, and everyone went silent waiting to see what was happening. The giant double doors on the opposite side from where you had entered opened, and there stood the beloved Papa Emertitus IV, clad in a deep crimson suite with purple detailing. Behind him stood an entourage of ghouls, though you couldn't much make them out in the dark of the night.
Copia started making his way inside, kissing the hands of a few sisters on his way to the table which was reserved for him and his group. As they filed in, it was revealed that the ghouls all were holding bundles of flowers, which they began passing out to the brothers in their seats.
"Love," Papa's voice rang out. "It's what binds us. Family, friends, lovers. Today we celebrate it, and cherish it, for it is truly something special, and with these roses you will share that love with those closest to you."
By the time Papa had finished speaking, the roses had all been passed out, save for the ones that a few of the ghouls had saved for themselves. The anxiety that you felt earlier began to grow, you weren't sure if you could wait. You saw Aether standing there, in front of everyone, holding a single rose in his hands.
Copia threw his arms out towards the crowd, and smiled.
"Please, begin my friends!"
All of the brothers began gifting their roses, some standing up to find and confess to sisters that had been without partners. You simply sat and watched, occasionally looking over to Liza who laughed at anyone who was turned down, as well as turning down any man who attempted to offer anything to her.
Your eyes wandered to the large table that Papa was to sit at, and saw that he and the ghouls were all whispering to one another. He looked around, and once everyone had sat down, he nodded his head.
Once he did that, the ghouls that had save roses made their way out into the crowd, and began confessing on their own. Your heart began to throb as you saw the large ghoul you were eyeing walk over to where you were sitting, reaching out a hand for you to take.
Liza had to hold in a scream at the sight. You took Aether's hand and rose from your seat, looking up at him with loving eyes. He was incredibly handsome, he wore a black dress shirt and pants with a tie that matched the color of your dress, and he was still sporting his usual silver rings and bracelet.
All of the ghouls were wearing black masks that covered the top half of their face, leaving their hair and lips free. It was probably the most you had seen of Aether, and you loved every part of it.
"I know I already asked, but there's no harm in making sure." He smiles. "Would you like to join me?"
You accept the rose from his other hand and hold it close, nodding slowly. He gently pulls you next to him, and leads by the hand back to his table, along with the other ghoul's and their partners.
You all sat down, and the party began, food being brought out and served on some of the most beautiful plates and cutlery that you had every seen.
"Copia sure knows how to party." You whisper at Aether.
"You think he set this up alone? He had to ask the girls to help pick forks because 'There was too many'."
You both try to stifle your laughs to not draw attention, but a few of the others ghouls still look over.
You and Aether start eating, joking around and talking in between bites. He's really such a sweet guy, you never once feel uneasy or nervous, even thought your table is front an center. He even wipes a bit of food away from your lips without drawing attention to it, not want to embarrass you.
A couple of hours pass, and soon everyone is done talking and eating, which means it's about time for the coveted afterparty. Everyone begins to stand and leave the room, some going to their bedrooms and others going to the ballroom to continue socializing. Your group starts to leave, and you help to pick up a couple of plates and such from the tables on your way out. Aether watching you lovingly, and copying your actions.
Once you make it to the ballroom, you can't help but let your mouth fall open, admiring the beautiful decor that had been set up. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling, with shimmering crystals that reflected the different colors of the room. Ribbons were also hung up, with flowers and loose petals littering the room and floor. Music also played, it was soft and slow, truly romantic, though you were sure that would change when people got more in a different kind of mood.
Aether placed a hand of the small of your back and led you inside, the both of you ending up in front of Marjory and Liza, as well as the brother that asked Marjory out and... another sister?
Liza looked at you and blushed, introducing you do her date, a shy looking girl who you never really expected to be her type. They really did look good together, and you were glad she wasn't left alone.
You introduced Aether to your friends as well, making sure to keep them and their gawking in line. Once you were all settled in, you migrated to the dance floor and started to join the large group of slow dancers.
His hands found its way to the home of the crook of your waist, while yours wandered up to rest around his neck. You looked up to him, able to see his eyes much clearer than his usual mask, they were big and a little downturned, and so loving. The lights from above shined down and lit up his eyes beautifully, you were captivated.
The music moved you both, making you sway softly in each other's arms. In your eyes, there was no longer anyone but him, the both of you together, because that’s all you needed. It was almost foolish how quickly the two of you fell for one another, but the way he held you, the way that he pulled your body so close to his, if this was foolish then you would happily spend your life living a comedy, because this is all you could dream of.
You both continued to look into each others eyes, not breaking your gaze for a second. Your hands slowly snaked away from his neck and rested on the sides of his jaw, cradling him with a touch he had never known. He moved his head lower, letting it sit just close enough that you could feel the warm tickle of his breath, but he didn’t move any closer, he didn’t dare.
He was waiting, waiting for you to decide if this is what you wanted, the poor man wanted nothing more than to embrace you and feel the warmth of your lips on his, but he sat patiently.
Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips, and just as quickly, your lips to his own. His lips were soft and a bit chapped, brushing so beautifully against yours, the kiss was nothing but the love that you felt in that moment, no lust or ill intent, just love.
You couldn't tell if it lasted forever, or if it didn't last long enough, but eventually you two had to pull apart. Aether's eyes were almost glazed over with a look that you couldn't exactly place, but your eyes shone with the same light back at him. You both shared that look for the rest of the afterparty, stealing glances from one another even when you were across the room, like two little lovesick puppies.
As the night continued, you both drank a bit, not enough to get overly drunk, but there was a visible haze of blush spread across your cheeks. Aether was able to handle his liquor better than you were, you could barely even tell than he had anything to drink. Marjory and Liza, as well as their dates, found their way back over to you and decided to finish the party off with a bang, dragging you to the dance floor once again for a dance that was just a bit less innocent.
Everyone was pressed close up to their partners, hardly leaving any room to breath between them, and you two were no different.
Your chest pressed against Aether’s, you two enveloped in another kiss, one that was more passionate than the last one. Your hands were ruffled in his hair, and his rested just above your ass, robbing you of his touch in a way that was almost criminal.
You felt a prodding at your stomach, and those silly little butterflies began to flutter around again. Tugging at Aether’s hair a bit, trying to get him as close as your bodies would allow, you earned a low grunt in response, and you can tell that you’re done for.
Aether bites your lip before pulling away from the kiss, staring at you with pupils blown so wide that if you were any further they would look completely black. He shoots a glance to the rest of the people there, taking note of the vulgar grinding and fondling going on, if you both wanted this then he wouldn’t stand for it happening in a place like this.
“Would you want to maybe go somewhere else? It’s getting a little..” His voice trails off a tad.
“Horny in here?” You finished his sentence, blunter than either of you expected.
You both burst out laughing, it’s almost beautiful the way that, even when in a mood like this, there’s still room for laughter.
“I would love to, Aether. I’ve always wondered what the ghouls bedrooms looked like, would you care to show me?”
The color of his face deepened, and he nodded quickly. You smile and go to take off your heels so you can walk a little more comfortably, but it seems Aether has been waiting for your departure. He takes your shoes from your hands and turns his back towards you, signally for you to hop on.
“Poor feet are probably killing you, I’ll give you a ride so you have have a break.”
You shake your head and laugh before hopping on him, a little uneasy at first due to being higher than you usually stand. Aether wraps his arms under your hips to hold you nice a snug, and starts making his way to his bedroom.
The way there is filled him comfortable silence, just enjoying each others company. Your face is nestled against his neck again, feeling his soft hair tickling at your skin.
Before you come to notice, Aether’s setting you down gently on probably the softest bed you’ve ever touched. You admire the decor for just a second before planting your eyes back on the man of the hour, and the sight of him is down right intoxicating.
He stands just above you, looking down with disheveled hair and foggy eyes. A hand snakes it’s way up to your face, caressing your check softly.
“Are you sure that you want this?”
Your heart feels so full and warm, the smile on your face radiating that same feeling. You lean up a bit and place a small kiss on his cheek.
“I would never want it with anyone else, Aether.”
The moment he got the okay, his lips are back on yours, they’re so warm and inviting he just can’t help but kiss them whenever he gets the chance. His hands move to your back, finding and undoing the zipper of your dress before carefully pulling it off of you.
You feel a bit shy, being so exposed to someone, but try not to bring attention to it, that is until-
“Wow…” Aether whispers just loud enough to hear.
You look at him, worried something might be wrong, that maybe he changed his mind now that he saw you. Those thoughts are swatted away though when he wraps his arms around you in a firm, but careful embrace, just holding you close for a moment.
“I can’t believe that I have you here, that you’re mine. You’re so… Wow.”
Your face must be burning up, but you push through that, and your slight anxiety, and pull his arms to the clasps of your bra. He undoes them, a bit clumsily, but it’s charming.
Once your bra comes off, Aether truly cannot keep his hands, eyes, or mouth away from you. He pecks your lips just one more time, before kissing his way to your jaw, then your neck, all the way down until he reaches your chest. He nips at your skin, looking to see what reaction you have to it before he continues appreciating every inch of you.
No wonder he’s one of Papa’s closest ghouls, big, strong, talented, and from the looks of it, incredibly dedicated to worship.
“Aether,” your voice is small and shaky. “Please.”
He rises to meet your gaze, leaning in next to your ear.
“Please what, tesorina?”
You feel likes your going to burst, and he must be too, judging by his shallow breath.
“Please, I need you.” You swallow a breath, trying to calm down. “All of you.”
Aether says nothing before he starts shedding his clothes, being more careless than he was with yours, and you remove your underwear while he does so. He pushes himself onto the bed, pulling you carefully under him and massaging your thighs.
“How can I say no to such a pretty thing like you?”
You feel him grind himself against your folds, rubbing against your clit every so often. Once he’s a little more slicked up, he positions himself and slowly starts to slide into you. It doesn’t hurt, but the sheer stretch of him makes you whimper a bit.
He shushes you, offering words of comfort and praise while he works himself deeper.
“Shhh shhh… Atta girl, you’re taking it so good, just a little more.”
Your head spins, swirling all of his words like little whirlpools, and you were drowning in them. So drunken by the things he was saying, they all started to blur together, and the feeling of him finally sheathing himself fully inside you was almost disorienting.
Hands gripped his wide shoulders, looking for any kinda of support while the same pathetic whimpers fell from your lips. Aether was there though, making sure to kiss away any discomfort before he ever dreamed of moving, not wanting to push too far too fast.
You subconsciously grind your hips into his, once again earning yourself a low groan from the ghoul. Your hands wander to his face and then to the back of his head, finger lacing in the strap of his mask. His body tensed for a second, but with a deep breath he replaces your hands with his own, unlatching the strap and removing it from his face.
You stared, as hard as you tried not to, you did. His eyes had caught you in a trap earlier with their deep stretches of color, but seeing him now, for all he was, the only word you could describe it as would be blessed.
He was obviously nervous, biting his lip waiting for any kind of response from you. So you told him the only words that you could grasp in that ever rushing mind of yours.
“I love you, Aether.”
His hips almost instinctively thrust, hitting as deep into you as you could take him. You must have hit some kind of nerve - or rather - need, inside of him, because he hurried his head in the valley of your chest his breathing was shaky.
“Please…” His voice wobbled from his throat. “Say it again?”
You smiled, it was so cute seeing the things that really got him going.
“I love yo-“
Another deep thrust caught you off guard, your words being replace with an unexpectedly loud whine. He started moving his hips at a steady pace, slow but deep, dragging right against that extra soft little spot in you.
Your nails dug into his shoulders and your eyes shut tightly, you relished the feeling of him filling you up, every movement driving you closer and closer to the edge. You swear, you were watching him fall more for you ever second he was inside you, his eyes were soft and his lips hung open just a tad, he was a sailor and you were his siren.
A hand moved from his shoulder to one of his horns, pulling him back down to kiss you. It wasn’t dirty, or lustful, it was that same kiss that he gifted you the first time.
He tried to keep at that slow pace, but the feeling of you clamping down on him, your skin pressed on his, it drove him wild and his thrusts started to speed up. You were starting to unravel underneath him, a mess of sweat and moans, and begging. You begged him for it, all of it, every little bit of him he could offer you.
“So close… Need…”
His head dipped down to your shoulder, where he placed a firm kiss, making you choke on your words.
“Mark me… Please…”
Almost as if he had been waiting, he opened his lips and dug his teeth into your shoulder, beads of blood dripping into his mouth. He slowed his thrust almost to a halt, but that didn’t stop you from grinding yourself on him, finally reaching your climax with an extremely lewd moan that was muffled by one of your hands. He joined you, giving a few deep thrust before his own release, his dick twitching while filling you with the warmest sensation you’ve probably ever felt.
He relaxes his jaw and pulls away from you, soothing the oncoming sting from the bite with his tongue as he lapped up any drips of blood still trying to escape. Your body was tired and your vision was blurry, so you simply tried to catch your breath until you regained a little stability.
Once Aether had stopped the bleeding, he lifted his head and rested it on your own, your noses pressed against one another.
“I love you too, tesorina. Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
You nodded your head, trying to sit up with him, but he planted you flat on your back. You were a little confused, until he pulled a towel from his closet and a change of clothes. He wiped up the cum that was now spilling out of you, careful not to rub on any spot that was too sensitive. Sitting you up, he slid one of his shirts over your head, and a nice pair of socks onto your feet, topped off with a tender kiss on the forehead.
He threw on a pair of boxers and got into bed, pulling you into his chest from behind, trying his best not to touch the fresh mark on your shoulder. You two cuddle like that for a while, and you eventually start to drift off, Aether leaving you one final bit of praise to dream of.
"Even like this, dolcezza, you're still so perfect. Goodnight, I'll see you in my dreams."
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toiletwipes · 2 years
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meow meow, i mean brainrot anon here Ok so, we know that Faebur knows our name, bUt
What if it is not so? Like
Imagine that during all this time you have never said your name to Faebur, despite all the angst and mildly romantic moments, and in the absence of knowing your name he replace the emptiness with affectionate nicknames, like "Love, darling, sweetie, sweetheart, treasure, pretty" etc.
But you get involved in a certain situation… and you end up giving your name… to FaeTommy >:))))))
Tommy wouldn't miss a chance to tease his "Brother" then every chance he gets where the three of them are together (Or when he's with wilbur alone)
"Yeah your human you know, what was his name again?…aHh yeah Rea-, wait I can't say it out loud haha how silly of me" :)
(I can imagine Wilbur trying to make a deal with tommy for your name, tommy wouldn't accept, because then he couldn't keep bothering his brother with it)
"Yeah that totally happened, right? Re- ooops I almost said your NAME, how silly of me given that, there are fairies hungry to own names around here~~~" And the amused look he gave wilbur said it was completely on purpose
Obviously Wilbur didn't take it well, after all, why did Tommy have to be the first Fae you gave your name to…he couldn't blame you, given the situation you found yourself in, but, come on! You knew each other even before tommy even breathed on earth, it felt so unfair…. Wilbur nudged tommy who didn't stop laughing when he noticed his brother's annoyance And even though it was you who walked a few steps behind them, you could see the annoyance on wilbur's face, and after you reached the cabin you leaned close to his ear and whispered your name quickly
And yes, faetommy can be kind of annoying, but faebur? is even more annoying than Tommy because when you are out in the woods at randoms times he would whispering it in your ear only to see the blush on your cheeks from the strange feeling you get when you hear it
And when you were out of the woods he would almost feel the need to shout it out, just to see you in a nervous state trying to shut him up, so the neighbors wouldn't look at you funny when they passed you on the street
and wait
You are cooking (Because Tommy insisted he was so hungry he might die and here we spoil our not so faeinnit child) Then as you are in the kitchen you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist as you feel the familiar sensation of Wilbur behind you and before you can ask what he is doing he comes up to your ear to sweetly whisper your name and as you try to process what is going on Wilbur walks out of the kitchen
But that's not all!!!!
As the two of you are cuddled up on the couch watching a random movie you feel his hand lightly rest on your thigh testing the limits, and when he sees that it doesn't seem to bother you he starts tracing "strange figures" on your leg and it's not until you stop paying attention to the movie that you realize they are not figures, they are letters…. Very familiar…
"Wilbur are you writing my name on my leg?" you comment as you face his face and all he does is smile and let out little chuckles between his teeth.
God I love this man, as the audio of some movie would say "And I realized how much I wanted a boyfriend :("
he's so cute annoying i love it
tommy being annoying vs wilbur being annoying GO
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Text
Dedication
Prompts: I come barring a prompt! DRLAMP with platonic creativitwins, of course. so, Logan has these files on the sides, they've got all he knows about them and they have a section dedicated to their likes and dislikes and what to do when they're confronted with things they don't like. so he gives them small yet very thoughtful gifts every so often and makes an effort to help them when they're not feeling their best, however, he never lets them know it's him because he is so sure they hate him that he's convinced his methods wouldn't be as effective if they knew it was him doing it, so he hides. after the wedding, tensions are high so he tries to make them feel better, but, since he's pretty down in the dumps as well, he isn't as careful hiding as he usually is, so when the sides receive their gifts and help, they decide to figure out who has been sending them so they can thank them, now that they've managed to talk things out and are friends again. they figure out it's Logan and ask him why he never took credit for his work, he explains and what they do next is up to you - anon
Hello! Are you doing well? I hope you aren’t burning yourself out; you write so fast! A request, if those are open? I’m maybe just a little obsessed with your Roman and Logan hurt/comfort. Platonic or romantic, it’s all absolutely delicious. I’ve been going slightly crazy over their parallels recently… Do you have any more in the works? If not, totally a-okay! Take care of yourself, please! - anon
Read on Ao3
Warnings: none
Pairings: dlampr, can be platonic or romantic you decide
Word Count: 3882
It stands to believe that if Logan upsets someone, naturally, he must strive to ensure they are not upset anymore. It is his fault that the problem exists, therefore he must be the one to solve it. 
He pays attention, as is his job, to exactly what it is that causes the problem. Was he accidentally too brash or harsh? Did he dismiss an idea out of hand without realizing the consequences that would have? Has he overlooked someone in his efforts to be more efficient and erroneously decided that something wasn’t important?
He has found that most likely, the issue will fall into one of the aforementioned categories. As such, he has developed a flow chart. 
Did the Side in question directly approach him about the issue? 
More likely, this answer will be ‘no.’ Unlike himself, the other Sides do not tend to communicate in explicit and succinct ways. He has pondered this several times, failing to understand why they believe that refraining from addressing the issues bluntly is more beneficial in the long term. The solution that he has been offered when he asks them about it informs Step 2.
2. Are they avoiding interaction with Logan out of a belief that he is still upset with him?
Through no fault of their own, the Sides often believe that Logan remains discontented with them after the interaction ceases. Sometimes this is true, however in cases such as this, often whatever discontent there may have been will fade almost immediately once it has been expressed. He does not know how he can assure them of this permanently, though he does not mind the need to. After all, in times of emotional upset, one cannot be expected to perform the most rational of thinking. He does not and will never hold that against them. 
3. Do they believe that Logan desires the avoidance of contact due to believing them a burden?
The other Sides are not burdens to him. He willingly chooses to engage with them and interact with them. He is not Patton—he is not exuberant of his love and care for them—but he has a deep and meaningful fondness and affection for every single one of them. As such, they could never be burdens as they are not a task he has shouldered unwillingly and unknowingly. 
Telling them as much tends to make them cry. 
4. Have they explained what it was that upset them?
This one is…difficult at times. If the Side believes they are a burden, it normally takes several rounds of reassurance before they are comfortable enough to share the details of their sadness. Once they do, however, it is simple enough to decide what his response should be. 
A. Accidentally too brash or harsh: apologize for his insensitivity and assure them that he does not think badly of them. Ask what in particular it was that made them upset and add it to the list of sensitive topics. Reassure them with compliments that he does care deeply for them. 
B. Dismissed out of hand: apologize for implying that their idea was not worthy of consideration. Refrain from explaining reasons because this can be seen as making excuses or defending his actions. Remind them that under no circumstances does his rejection of an idea imply that he rejects them as a Side or as someone he cares about. Propose an alternative or workshop one with them. 
C. Overlooked: apologize for underestimating how important this was to the Side. Offer comfort if it is asked for. Propose an alternative that they would enjoy. 
He has learned, however, that there can be lingering feelings after the interaction has resaved completely. Even when apologies have been made and alternatives have been proposed, there can be lingering hurt on their behalf or a guilt on his own. A residual emotional injury, one that cannot be fixed by attempting to further deepen the interaction, but one that requires a different angle. 
One of the discoveries that has been his most meaningful is that if he is the cause of the emotional hurt, there is only so much he, as himself, can do in order to assuage it. Often, his presence is enough to remind them of the infliction of the original hurt and prevent him from fully healing it. As such, it stands to reason that an outside source of joy or pleasure would benefit them once he has done as much as he can on his own. 
This is where the gifts come in. 
The sentimentality and positivity that humans—and Sides—associate with inanimate objects is fascinating. Perhaps it is due to the way humans are designed to interact with their environment and other humans, a sort of innate pack bonding that developed as an evolutionary tactic for survival. It is most evident in the subtle, gentle caring love that most humans cannot refrain from developing for anything that is even slightly intuitive; an attachment to things that they know cannot actually reciprocate or care, but there is always at least a little suspicion that they might. 
Children—and adults—will kiss stuffed animals on the head if they fall or are accidentally dropped. He has seen college students and working professionals croon and speak softly to their laptops or other devices, thanking them for performing their functions or encouraging them to do just a little bit more. Or the sadness that one feels when they lose an object that was important to them, not necessarily because they have lost a possession but because it was theirs and it had been present through many emotional journeys and now its absence was keenly felt. 
He digresses. 
Providing the other Sides with a gift not only gives them an outlet for this type of affection, but it enables him to better understand what it is they require from him in terms of emotional support. As an added bonus, it can help to assuage his own guilt by seeing them so happy. He has…often been accused of being incapable of leaving a task incomplete. 
With this in mind, he has prepared files on each of the Sides to ensure their gifts are uniquely suited to them. 
For Patton, it is anything soft and cuddly or an appliance that might be useful in the kitchen. Patton, for all his proclamations of being a father to the other Sides, is not the…most adept in the kitchen. Not simply because his palate is…oh, what’s a polite way to phrase this…let’s say compatible with the tastes of the others, but because his attention span will often wander during time-sensitive tasks. 
A sparkly kitchen timer that will sit at his elbow and ring merrily when time has elapsed. A spatula with a kitten head, complete with white and pink spots and a pair of eyes that smile from one side. Oven mitts that have clouds and rainbows that make a satisfying thump when you clap with them on. 
And, of course, any stuffed animal that is big enough to squish his face into and huggable enough to stand in for one of the Sides if necessary. 
Patton, as the Side that primarily deals with Thomas’s emotions, often experiences the emotional consequences of a meeting even if the Side in question will not. And as most Sides are not as…willing to experience the full extent of Patton’s emotional support, a plush that works as a stand-in is greatly appreciated. 
For Virgil, although he would deny it to his last breath—not that Sides need to breathe, strictly, as they are metaphysical—also appreciates stuffed animals. These ones, though, have to be more carefully curated than the ones given to Patton. Due to Virgil’s anxiety, he requires objects that can help ground him. Through discussions, Logan has learned that these often come in the form of tactically stimulating objects like fidgets or textured things, or pressure therapy like weighted blankets. 
The stuffed animals he gifts to Virgil are either weighted plushes—in the form of dinosaurs or bats—or stuffed animals of the more obscure kind that have fascinating natural features. A cassowary he was particularly proud of has individual feathers on its back for Virgil to run his fingers through. A pangolin has individual scales, ones where the fluffy material alternates directions. A Komodo dragon has lifelike skin, perfect for stroking with the palm of his hands to ground himself. 
He also offers replacements. A phone charger with a cord long enough to reach anywhere he needs it to. A set of headphones that are both noise canceling and soft enough to prevent sensory overload if he needs to wear them for extended periods of time. A new fidget cube after his last one broke. 
Virgil, no matter what Janus likes to insist, is responsible for Thomas’s immediate survival In a crisis, Virgil is the Side that takes control first, he is often their first and last line of defense against particularly troubling onslaughts. As such, anything Logan can do to ensure that he can ‘switch off’ is of the utmost importance. 
For Janus, Logan has often had the occasional thought that he is restocking a spa as opposed to getting gifts for his friend. Janus has one of the most scrupulous and meticulous self-care routines Logan has ever encountered, though this by no means surprises him. As a Side responsible for self-preservation, it therefore follows that he would not exempt himself from this aspect of his duties. 
Bath salts that will not irritate his scales. Bath bombs that are gentle enough to soothe him but not too gentle as to have no effect. A new face mask that boasts hyaluronic acid and other moisturizing ingredients that will work for both the scaled and flesh sides of his face. And of course, a restocking of whatever products he seems to be running out of. 
Logan also pays attention to what it is that Janus picks for himself. He is the expert on his needs, after all. So Logan will supply him with new batteries for a heat lamp, a fresh bulb if the old one seems to be losing its efficiency. He has replaced exfoliating brushes, microfiber towels, even supplying new material for gloves if need be. 
Janus, unlike some of the other Sides, finds more comfort in his solitude than in the company of others. Logan has no desire to compete with Janus’s comfort levels, and as such, will not infringe on them. A boundary has been established, it is his duty to respect it. 
For Remus, Logan will readily admit that he has the most fun picking out what to gift him. Remus is not known for his adherence to tradition or routine, and as such, gifting him things like appliances or objects with uses is relatively useless. Remus enjoys the most random of things—not just in the expected Remus way. If you get Remus something he doesn’t know what to do with, he will be ecstatic. 
A packet of glow-in-the-dark stars that he now has to find a place for. A snow globe from somewhere that Thomas has never been that is now part of an incredible recreation of a Coraline scene. An ordinary-seeming matryoshka doll with a penguin as the smallest doll that is now his favorite thing to brainstorm with. 
And, of course, there are the Remus-expected gifts. A vial of whale blood. A ghost heart, designed for an experiment Logan scrapped that he now has no use for. A vial of some type of mystery liquid that sat at his station for so long that he has both completely forgotten what it was and is slightly worried about doing more experiments near it. 
Remus is…a wonder. It is like shopping for an eclectic uncle and a little kid all at the same time. Remus excels in the chaos when he is allowed to be off-the-cuff, so to speak, and entirely his own. Logan gives him things he has no idea what to do with because he can always rely on Remus to come up with something spectacular. 
Roman…oh, Roman. 
Logan is not too proud to confess that out of all the Sides, Roman is both the most difficult to gift things for and the one he finds himself gifting to most often. The two of them seem destined to disagree over issues, if only because their duties demand it. Thomas’s career as a creative-type and yet one that must manage his own time and responsibilities means that Logic and Creativity must always compete for priority. More often than not, the victor is chosen through direct neglect of the other. 
He must give Roman credit. Wherever possible, Roman will propose alternatives that include them both. He makes concessions when Logan has no intention of making any, he adapts his ideas to fit under Logan’s strict guidelines with stunning ease, he is often the first to apologize when he feels he has pushed too far or stepped out of line. And no matter how much Logan accuses him of being childish and unwilling to cooperate if he can’t get his way, Roman demonstrates his maturity by admitting his faults—often without prompting—and seeking Logan out if he feels that he has done something wrong. 
He has not always extended the same courtesy to Roman. 
That is not to say that Roman is without flaws; the creative Side will resort to insults and mocking if he feels it warranted and he has been known to sulk for longer than acceptable. But Roman is as much a professional as Logan, he knows how to do his job and do it well, and he cares for Thomas. He is Thomas’s Ego, after all, he cannot help certain things. 
…Roman is also far too good of an actor. 
Logan doesn’t like to entertain theories of how Roman became such a good actor, nor the implications for what that means when it comes to how he truly feels. He knows that although Janus is the one who will wear the others’ faces and put on the masquerade of a performer, it is Roman that is rarely found without some sort of mask. He knows bits and pieces of the real Roman, certainly, but if pressed, he isn’t sure he could tell you which bits and pieces. 
The gifts he gives Roman are careful. So careful. Because if Roman realizes who they come from, it will become another part of his disguise or performance and Logan will lose them. An extra of Roman’s favorite pen just as the current one is running out of ink. A refill for his favorite journal that he’s almost at the end of. A new blanket in the hall closet that is soft and heavy and not too suffocating. 
Sometimes he can’t help himself. Thomas will see an advertisement in passing for a large dragon plush with wings large enough to hug you and he’ll sneak it into the Imagination for Roman to find. Or he’ll see a YouTube video he thinks Roman will like and sneaks it onto Thomas’s ‘Watch Later’ list so it will pop up in Roman’s recommended feed. Or once—just once, because he couldn’t risk Roman finding out about it—Roman’s favorite comfort object had been ruined in one of Remus’s gleeful rampages and he’d painstakingly fixed it, leaving it outside his door. 
He doesn’t know what else he can do to really help Roman. Roman has been hurt, he knows, and won’t give up such a vulnerable part of himself without sufficient reason. And he can’t risk Roman putting together what he’s been doing for fear that the opportunity will vanish forever. So he sneaks in what little he can and wonders what he could be doing better. 
It is crucial that none of them ever discover what he is doing. As he mentioned before, the mere fact of his association risks prolonging the hurt instead of helping to soothe it, and as such, anonymity is essential. They do not require Logan in those moments, and so he must remove himself from the equation. 
This makes perfect logical sense, and so Logan is very, very confused when he explains this to a group of Sides who have found him out and is met with more discontent rather than understanding expressions. 
“So what you’re saying,” Virgil says, frowning hard, “is that you thought that if we knew you’d given us the gifts, we would automatically hate them?”
“I did not use the word ‘hate,’ but yes, if you knew of my association—“
“You’re a fucking idiot, Lolo,” Remus interrupts, voice as serious as he’s ever heard it, “and I really wanna hit you about it.”
“Don’t hit him,” Janus says, even though it’s half-hearted—as is Patton’s call of ‘language’—“that’s not nice.”
“What’s not nice is not telling us he gave us the presents because then we can’t thank him!”
“I don’t do it because I expect gratitude,” Logan says quickly, “you don’t need to—“
“Yeah, well, what if we want to, kiddo?” Patton stares at him. “What if we feel weird because we’re just getting stuff that we want and we don’t know who to thank for it?”
“I…did not factor that into my calculations.”
Virgil snorts. “No shit.”
Logan shakes himself. “Would you rather I refrain from gifting you things altogether? If this is the case, I have a few more that I need to—“
“No, sweetie,” Janus interrupts gently, “that’s not what we’re saying.”
Logan blinks. “That is what I am interpreting.”
“We’re saying that we’re grateful for the gifts you give us, as it is obvious how much care and precision you take with it, and we are upset because you believe that we would look badly upon the gifts once we knew they came from you.” Janus reaches out and adjusts his glasses. “Because there is an implication that you believe we neither care for you nor view you with equal affection and importance. It’s your own lack of self-esteem that is making us upset.”
“That’s—I—“
Then Roman starts to move.
Logan’s gaze snaps to him in an instant because Roman is crying, Roman is crying, no, this is bad, he’s done something very wrong, he needs to fix it, he needs to—
“Logan,” he says softly as he sits in front of him on the couch, “are you alright with being touched right now?
Dazed, Logan can only nod. Roman smiles and reaches out—
Oh. Is…is Logan crying too?
“Yes, my darling,” Roman murmurs and he is experiencing an error, please try again later, thank you, “you are. Come here, let me just…there, that’s it.”
Logan is unable to process anything, thank you very much. There is a distant recognition of Roman’s hand is on my face, Roman is wiping my tears, Roman is speaking softly to me and calling me sweet things, but Logan himself is very much not present right now. 
“Sweetling,” Roman murmurs again and Logan should not be surprised that Roman is able to come up with so many pet names, and yet— “may I hug you? I want to comfort you too, you’re upset.”
“I—I—“
“Stop, Roman,” Janus says softly, “he can’t think with you doing that.”
Roman pulls his hand away and Logan sobs. 
“Oh, shh, shh, it’s okay, sweetheart—“ Patton, that’s Patton— “he didn’t leave, we’re not leaving, we just want you to tell us what you need.”
“Deep breaths, L,” Virgil says in a low, comforting voice, “that’s it, there you go.”
Logan cannot do anything. He can’t do anything. Everything is too much. Everything is—
“Hey, Lolo,” comes Remus’s voice as the rest of the world thins out to a low murmur, “can you hear me?”
Yes. 
“Good. I’m just gonna talk to you like this for a sec.”
Okay. 
“We’re here. We care about you. We want to make you feel better. That’s all you gotta think about right now.”
Okay. 
“I think Roro is vibrating with how much he wants to cuddle you right now, can I tell him that’s okay?”
Yes. 
Seconds later, something warm and solid wraps around him and he can hear Roman’s voice murmuring in his ear again. 
“Hello, my darling, I’m right here, is this alright?” Logan nods. “Good, good, sweet thing, I have you, I’m not going anywhere. You just pour all of that into me, okay? Let me take it.”
“Can the others come hug you too?”
Yes. 
A moment later, there are more arms around him, a soft mattress appearing on the floor as someone—Janus, Remus helpfully supplies—scoops him into his lap and runs a hand through his hair. 
“We can figure out everything else later, Lolo,” Remus says as someone else, Virgil, probably, turns the lights down, “but you gotta let yourself relax first.”
“We’re right here,” Roman says gently, “shh, hush, now, my dear.”
But Logan won’t hush, because he has things he needs to say and he ends up just babbling at Roman, completely inarticulate, but this is important and he wants Roman to know and he—
“Shh,” Roman whispers, kissing his forehead, “shh, sweetling. Tell me later, okay? Just cry this out first.”
But that’s hard and everything hurts. 
“I know, sweet thing, I know.” Another kiss to his cheek. “You can do it.”
Can he? He doesn’t think he can. He doesn’t know how. 
One last kiss to his forehead. “As our gift to you, Logan, let yourself cry.”
…well, it’s rude to turn down a gift. 
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farfromharry · 4 years
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Mini Valentine | Stepdad!Tom fic
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Summary: Your valentine’s plans with your fiancé get slightly set back when you get called in to work, leaving Tom to spend the day with your daughter.
Word count - 4,017
Warnings - One brief mention of throwing up, i think that’s it?
Unfortunately for you and Tom, you’d been called into work on the morning of the 14th, based on ‘emergency’. It was all very last minute and caused a lot of stress for your fiancé, even if he tried to promise you that it wasn’t a big deal and he could sort something, but anyone would be stressed while finding out their plans for the day had been spontaneously ruined that same morning without warning.
You originally had plans to go on a family trip to the zoo during the day, wanting to show Scarlett all the adorable animals that she’s never had the pleasure of seeing in person. Then you were meant to be heading to a romantic dinner with Tom at the same fancy restaurant he took you to, to propose. All while his mum watched Scarlett for you so you both got some well deserved time together.
“I’ll just shift the reservation, it’s okay,” he promised you, kissing your shoulder as you tied back your hair to keep it out of your face.
“You’re an angel,” you whispered, making sure to press a lasting kiss to his lips. You could tell he was exhausted, and you didn’t blame him, it was barely even four in the morning and you were already up and ready to leave the house.
You couldn’t leave without making a hundred percent sure he was okay with you heading in, moving over to where he’d tucked himself under the covers again, trying to shield his bare upper half from the cold morning air.
He’d planned on getting some more sleep before your munchkin woke up and decided she needed her stepdad to feed her instantly, something she did often.
“I still feel bad, ‘m sorry.” He shook his head, cupping your cheek with his large hand.
“You have nothing to worry about,” he chuckled, finding some amusement in the idea of you feeling so guilty about something you couldn’t control, especially when the issue was so easily resolved.
You rested your head on his bare chest for a few seconds, just until you really had to leave so you wouldn’t be late.
“I’ll take Scarlett out somewhere, still got to win her over.” You rolled your eyes at his words, pecking his lips one more time before standing up.
“You know she loves you already,” you mumbled, referring to all the moments the two had shared over the few years you and Tom had been together.
“No, she loves my cooking.”
You scrunched up your nose, feigning disgust. “I don’t know why.” Tom scoffed, his heart fluttering when you let out that silly giggle that he adored.
“Y/N?” he called. You hummed. “Happy valentine’s day.”
You placed one more kiss on his lips, taking your time to study his face as you pulled away. “Happy valentine’s day Tom.” You waved goodbye without letting him say anything else, not wanting anymore distractions that could risk making you late, closing your bedroom door behind you.
“Mummy?” You turned your head at the sound of your angel’s sleepy voice, seeing her standing in her bedroom door. She looked like the cutest little thing, hair all messed up from the way she’d slept, in her Disney pyjamas, rubbing her tired eyes with her first while her teddy bear was squeezed as close as possible to her chest.
“What’s wrong bub? You should be asleep.” She waddled over to you, wrapping her arms tightly around your legs. Your fingers threaded in her hair, trying to tame the flyaway strands, tucking them back into her scrunchie loosely.
“I heard you awake,” she mumbled, almost falling asleep in the position she was in. You pouted, leaning down to kiss her head.
“Mummy has to go to work,” you said, seeing the frown forming on her face. “I’ll be back later, but that means we can’t go to the zoo.”
If she had the energy she probably would’ve thrown a tantrum right then and there, but taking into account the utter exhaustion consuming her tiny body, meant she didn’t have the effort to argue. All she could do was flash you her typical pout and puppy dog eyes, but even those weren’t enough to win you over this time.
“Why don’t you go get in with Tom for a bit, get some cuddles?” You were always trying to encourage her to do more with Tom, praying that she would get along with him well enough to accept him. She did at least like his cooking, so that was a start.
She hummed, placing a sloppy toddler kiss on your cheek before shuffling down the hall to your room. You chuckled to yourself, grabbing your keys, jacket and any other necessity, leaving your daughter and fiancé to spend the day together.
Tom couldn’t fall asleep until he knew you were on your way, his subconscious telling him that he couldn’t let you be late by getting distracted with something in the house.
That meant that Tom felt the tiny body that was crawling onto the large bed, climbing under the covers on your empty side.
“Hi,” she whispered, laying her head on your pillow. The man laughed silently, noting how much she was like you with her mannerisms. He asked if she was okay, checking she wasn’t in here because of a nightmare.
“Mummy said I could come get cuddles.” The girl often liked Tom more when she didn’t have the energy to be mean, so at times like this she was often very affectionate towards him.
“Of course, c’mere.” She shuffled closer to him, curling her body into his chest while her head rested on his shoulder. Tom pressed a light kiss to her temple, soothingly rubbing her back until her breathing evened out and he was sure she was asleep.
He wasn’t too far behind her, letting his own wave of exhaustion crash over him until he was back into the deep slumber he’d been in before it was interrupted by your phone ringing.
»»——⍟——««
Tom and Scarlett ended up getting out of bed around 10. He’d sent the girl to the bathroom to do her business and brush her teeth while he made her breakfast, going over some ideas of what they could do for the day in his head.
“How do you feel about going to the aquarium today?” he asked, slipping a pancake onto her plate, letting her decorate it however she wanted. Her eyes widened and she rapidly nodded her head. Tom chuckled, preparing some breakfast for himself, taking a seat next to the girl at the kitchen island.
“Can we see the penguins?” she asked, filling the silence with the innocent question. She let out a squeal when Tom nodded, thanking him with the same amount of energy.
She finished her breakfast quickly, bouncing in her seat as she waited for Tom to tell her she could leave. “Go get dressed, we’ll go in a little while.” She didn’t have to be told twice, jumping down from the seat to run to her room.
Tom left to get dressed a few minutes after her, changing into some jeans, a plain white hoodie and a coat on top.
He waited by the front door for more than a few minutes, confused about what was taking the little girl so long.
Tom didn’t want to impose, he knew she was capable of getting ready herself, but he also didn’t know if something else had possibly gone wrong.
He headed to her room, knocking on the door before pushing it open. “Hey bug, what’s taking so long, you okay?” He could see the tears on her cheeks as she sat in front of the mirror, a hairbrush and a hair tie to her right. “What are the tears for?” He asked softly, bending down beside her to wipe them away.
“I can’t do my hair.” She sniffled, looking up at the man with those big eyes that looked exactly like yours. He was such a sucker for those eyes. “Do you want me to try?”
She nodded, handing him the stuff he needed. He brushed through the strands of her hair as carefully as he could, making sure to avoid brushing any tangles harshly, and apologising if he caught any anyway.
“Ponytail?” he asked. She nodded in confirmation. Tom wasn’t exactly a pro when it came to hair, he’d grown up with 3 brothers, so he didn’t really have anything to do with long hair until he spent those nights when you were drunk. He would always carelessly throw your hair into a bun or ponytail to keep it out of your face when you threw up, receiving a mumbled thank you from yourself.
You’d helped him learn the basics a while ago, teaching him how to do a simple braid and how to do a quick ponytail, but that was all he knew. He was never sure if his versions of the hairstyles would be up to Scarlett’s standards.
He pulled all the strands in, making sure there were no loose ones before wrapping the hair tie around them all, keeping them in place at the back of her head.
“Is that okay?” he asked. She nodded, standing up from her spot. Tom raked his eyes over her outfit, making sure socks were matching and everything was on right before guiding her to the entrance of the house.
She took a seat next to him on the stairs, swinging her legs while she waited for him to pass her, her shoes. She easily slipped them onto her feet, right then left, just like you always did when you were here.
“You think you can tie them yourself?” he asked. She nodded her head, grabbing a hold of the two pieces of white string on her left shoe.
“I’m a big girl,” she argued. Tom raised his hands in defense, muttering an okay.
Her big girl mindset didn’t last for long when she realised she in fact didn’t know how to tie her shoes. Tom tried to hide his smile, knowing this was going to happen.
“Tom?” She asked. He hummed, looking up from where he’d been putting on his shoes. She pointed down to the little converse that were on her feet, the laces messy and undone. “Can you do them, please?”
He tried his best to show her how to do it, but the girl got easily distracted, rambling on about all the different fishies she was going to see. He couldn’t be annoyed, finding it completely adorable how she babbled on.
“Alright, up?” He didn’t want to pick her up if she’d rather walk, not wanting to risk the girl throwing a tantrum so early on in the day. However, to Tom’s surprise, she agreed. She stood on her tiptoes, reaching her hands up to the sky, a signal that she wanted to be lifted up.
Tom scooped her up into his arms, resting her on his hip while he collected everything he needed to head out for the day.
Scarlett busied herself in playing with the chain around Tom’s neck, finding it intriguing for some unexplained reason.
He carried her out to his car, having to follow her instructions on how to get her into the car seat, it seemed to be a struggle for Tom everytime.
Once he was sure she was safely in her seat, Tom climbed into the driver’s seat, sending you a quick text to tell you they were heading out.
At one point during the short drive, Tom glanced through his mirror to see Scarlett quietly singing along to the radio, which he turned up so she could hear better, kicking her legs in her carseat happily.
The aquarium wasn’t too far away, and before Tom knew it they were inside and ready to look around. Scarlett complained about how it felt like it’d taken forever, clutching Tom’s hand with her tiny one as she dragged him towards what she thought looked most interesting.
“Look at that one!” she gasped, pointing to the vibrant coloured fish. Tom nodded, grinning down at the pure happiness on the little girl's face. The sudden vibration in his pocket made Tom jump. He pulled out his phone to see your contact lighting up his screen. He took a few steps back from her, so she was still in his eyeline but her loud squeals weren’t heard in his ear everytime she spotted a pretty fish.
“Hello?”
A smile creeped onto your face just at the sound of his voice, it was all you needed to hear to convince you you could make it till the end of your shift.
“Hi.”
“How are things?” You let out a sigh, glancing around the ward with a bored look.
“It’s okay, I guess, nothing much happened after this morning,” you explained. “How’s it going with Scarlett?” Tom smiled to himself, watching as the girl stared in awe at all the vibrantly coloured fish swimming in the tank.
“I didn’t take her to the zoo because I know you wanted to go, so I brought her to the aquarium you’ve been to before.” Your heart soared. The fact that Tom both listened to your stories about your daughter and respected the things you wanted to do with her were just more things to add to your ‘why Tom is the perfect man’ list.
“Are you having fun?” There was an underlying hint of sadness in your voice that Tom quickly picked up on.
“Yeah, but it’d be even more fun if you were here.” You could hear him quietly talking to Scarlett in the background, something about spotting a certain coloured fish. The girl responded with a squeal of excitement when she found out, gushing about how pretty it looked.
“She sounds happy,” you commented, pulling Tom’s attention away from the girl again.
“I think she is, this is the warmest she’s been with me.”
You bit your lip to try and hold back your smile. You’d both been waiting for the moment she’d decide she was ready to accept Tom as her dad, and it’s been a long journey to get to that point.
“Well, I should go, but i’m glad you’re having fun.”
Scarlett ran over to Tom, clutching his legs and asking who was on the phone. When he responded with a simple ‘mummy’ she decided she needed to talk to you right that second.
She ended up occupying you on the phone for much longer than you’d intended, finding it impossible to get away from the girl while she was ranting about all the different animals and fish they’d seen.
“I don’t want to keep you then, tell Tom to have fun too okay?” She mumbled a quiet okay. Tom was watching her with an amused grin, finding it adorable how large his phone looked pressed against her head. You said your I love you’s before hanging up to continue wallowing in your own self pity.
»»——⍟——««
The picture Tom sent you around 1 was the thing that kept you going, but was simultaneously the thing that almost made you cry in the middle of the hospital.
The two were sitting in the restaurant at the aquarium, the girl cuddling some kind of fluffy penguin teddy that you were sure Tom insisted he buy for her, while grinning at the camera.
He followed it up with a little message afterwards that basically confirmed your suspicions.
‘She loved the penguins and I couldn’t resist, this is Oswald x’
You giggled at the name, an obvious reference to the time Harrison came over and let her watch Batman. You ended up setting the picture as your lock screen, clicking your lock button to see your baby’s face light up your phone screen.
Your eyes drifted up to the clock on your phone, seeing you had at least another 2 hours left of work.
You wish you could say those last couple hours flew by, but it felt like they were never going to end. You spent most of the time being handed more and more tasks to do that you were scared you wouldn’t finish before the time you could go home.
Thankfully you did, wanting to practically scream with relief once you climbed into your car. You felt like you had more energy now that at any point during your day, which was very confusing considering the long almost 10 hour shift you had.
You heard the excited yells of your daughter the second you walked through the door of your home. She’d quite clearly seen your car pull up outside and just couldn’t wait to greet you.
“There she is.” You were almost tackled into a hug by the four year old, the girl beaming at you. Tom helped you slip your jacket off once Scarlett decided to let go of you.
“So, how was it?” She was more than happy to tell you again every single thing her and Tom did, going as far as describing almost each and every one of the fishies in detail.
Tom joined in at random parts with bits of information that seemed to slip past her excited mind. He watched you both with a smile, silently laughing at you when you realised you’d probably be here for days if you didn’t stop her.
“That sounds like so much fun, but you need to go and get ready for when Nikki comes.”
She still hadn’t taken up calling Tom’s mother Grandma yet, but you reassured her that it’d come with time, exactly the same as your reassurances to Tom.
She ran away to her room to do as you said, leaving you and Tom a moment alone before you got ready for your date.
Tom’s hands made a beeline for your waist once she was out of sight, bringing you in close to him until you were pressed up against his chest.
“Hello handsome.” A faint blush creeped onto Tom’s cheeks, the man trying to hide it by burying his face in your neck. He placed soft kisses all over the skin there, earning him a pleased sigh from you.
Your hands trailed up the expanse of his muscly back, eventually residing in his mess of hair. Gentle tugs on the short curls were what brought his attention away from your neck.
He smiled at you, resting his forehead on yours. Your noses occasionally clashed from the close proximity, but neither of you cared enough to pull away. He was the one to close the gap between you, slotting your lips together in a slow kiss. It wasn’t hungry or needy in any way, more so screaming that you’d missed each other.
“We should get ready,” you mumbled onto his lips, unwilling to pull away just yet.
He hummed. “We really should.”
Neither of you made an attempt to move. This time it was you who couldn’t stand not kissing him, placing such a soft peck on his lips that he was sure it almost didn’t happen.
“I love you.” You grinned, rubbing your thumb over his unruly eyebrow, eyes flickered over the tiny features of his face. He took the time to study your eyes while you did so, noticing the little flecks of different colours that didn’t match your overall eye colour.
You finally looked into his eyes, those golden, honey orbs that just made you melt inside everytime they stared at you with just so much adoration.
“I love you too.”
He let you go and get ready after that, pouting adorably as he watched you strut your way to your bedroom. You picked out your outfit before hand, pulling the hanger with the gorgeous silver dress out of your wardrobe, laying it on the bed.
You knew Tom would probably sneak a look at it, but seeing it on a hanger wouldn’t even compare to seeing it on your body.
You took a lot longer getting ready than you expected to, purely due to the long, hot shower you took that felt like a necessity after your work day, and also the fact you hadn’t truly gotten yourself dolled up for something in a while, something that you greatly missed.
Tom was there as soon as you were finished to make you feel even better about yourself, throwing compliments at you left and right that left you a flustered mess of butterflies.
At some point Scarlett had creeped into your room, looking at your pretty dress in awe.
“Doesn’t your mummy look pretty?” She nodded her head rapidly, complimenting you profusely. Your fiancé knew you were getting flustered, trying to cover your face to hide from your own embarrassment. He placed a quick kiss on your head, his hand slipping down to the small of your back to guide you to the front door.
You gave Scarlett a tight hug, telling her to behave, while Tom placed a kiss on her head.
“Thank you again,” you gushed, making sure to give Tom’s mum an extra tight hug before you left. She always told you that she loved taking care of Scarlett, even if she wasn’t her biological granddaughter.
Tom led you out of the house with a lovesick grin plastered on his face, making you rather suspicious about what he was up to.
“What are you so smiley about?” you asked. He simply shrugged, placing a kiss on your knuckles as he told you absolutely nothing.
“Just happy to finally have to myself.”
»»——⍟——««
The small body of the girl barreled towards you as soon as you stepped through the front door. She surprisingly almost knocked your balance, forcing a giggle out of your slightly tipsy self.
You were able to scoop her up, holding her on your hip.
“I know, we’re home,” you whispered, cradling her to your chest. She tucked her head into your neck, trying to not let sleep consume her so she had more time to spend with her favourite person.
While you were snuggling your baby, Tom was once again thanking his mother, telling her a little about the lovely night you had at the restaurant.
Nikki could see in his eyes as he watched you, just how much adoration he felt for both of you. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her son look like that.
“Missed you,” she mumbled, muffled by the way her mouth was resting on you. You responded with a simple kiss, noting how her eyes were so desperately trying to flutter shut.
You couldn’t blame her, you had accidentally woken her up at a ridiculous time in the morning and she was still only a toddler who often took multiple naps throughout the day.
“Let’s get you to bed.” She whined in your ear out of protest, shaking her head in your neck. Her head raised, looking around the room until her eyes landed on Tom.
She twisted in your arms so you were only holding her by her stomach. Scarlett made grabby hands at Tom, a sleepy pout on her lips when he didn’t instantly come over.
“Can daddy put me to bed?” she asked, so innocently.
Tom froze, his heart growing in size as he stared at her. You and Nikki shared a look, one that told the other you were happy you could experience this moment.
He didn’t exactly know what to do, becoming a bit of a stuttering mess. He’d been waiting at least over a year since you’d gotten engaged for her to say that one word, a sort of confirmation that she was happy he was there.
You could see the tears lining his waterline as his mind replayed the 6 words she just uttered. It seemed to take him a few seconds to come back down to earth, nodding his head. You helped transfer Scarlett from your arms to his much stronger ones, the male making it look like lifting a feather. Scarlett shifted slightly, sighing as she got comfortable in his hold.
“Yeah, of course, daddy can put you to bed.”
»»——⍟——««
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chrstbll · 4 years
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miracles and lucky days| ben hargreeves
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(gif not mine) 
+tags: @lalisbitch @spaceclone-mom , @meowmeowrex23 @strangeyouthcrusade
plot: after coming back from the 60’s, instead of finding the sparrow academy, the group come face to face with a much more positive outcome of their actions.
                                                           -
The words of Klaus were diluted, inaudible and ringing loudly in your head. Your limbs could barely hold the weight of your body, and the nausea from jumping between timelines hitting your stomach didn’t quite put you at ease. All was blurry at first, not hearing nor seeing properly caused you to feel light-headed as well, but before your legs or your mind gave in, somebody strong arms held you up protectively.
- Are you good? – Diego’s gentle call for you brought you back to reality. He was always a little bit concerned about you. He didn’t show it in great actions, it was in the seemingly unimportant things he did for you. There wasn’t anything romantic involved between you two, instead of that it was a deep understanding of each another that made you appreciate the other significantly. You nodded to confirm that you were in fact all right, shrugging it off with a smile.
Klaus was right. After you successfully registered what he was saying, a wave of relief washed over your heart, mind, and soul. Your whole being. For once, all seven of you managed to successfully jump back to 2019 without any harm or mistake being done. It was quite unbelievable. A dreamlike scenario which proved itself to be nearly impossible to believe. Looking around the hall, everything seemed to be all right. It felt okay. The aura was intimately comforting, yet something was amiss. Different. Changed. It certainly was not a malicious ambiance that you discovered, but one new, something yet unexperienced thing. The others noticed it too, as all six of them were looking around suspiciously. Memories, feelings, and people rapidly invaded your mind, those you haven’t thought about a lot. Pogo? Grace? Are they okay now?
Luther suggested to enter the living room ahead of you, so that’s what you all mutually agreed to. Five was the one who went further on before you heroically and begged all of you to proceed with caution, because we don’t know what’s waiting for us there. The walk from the hall to the living room happened painfully slowly given that the feeling of uncertainty was sitting in one and all’s eyes and was at fault for your lack of speed. Upon realizing the academy was unnervingly noiseless, the anxiety birthed a huge lump in your throat, which you couldn’t swallow. Your heart was terrified from the possible negative outcome of this time jump. What if that moment of clarity and amenity was only a façade and was only felt because none of you faced reality in the short but drunk moment of arrival? Sometimes you thought about how nice it would be to just live without worry. To live in pure bliss, without a care in the world. Without a problem in the universe to solve. How astonishing it would be not to recall what loss, trauma, or sadness feels like. But then again, we would live in ignorance that way.
Turning towards the divans and sculptures in the living room, your attention automatically focused on the small moving figure, who was absentmindedly cleaning the shelves with dusting feathers. Recognition hit you like a truck, as the character of an ape appeared before you. Your breath hitched in your throat. Mercifully, it was a positive reaction, a sentiment you haven’t undergone in a long time.
- Pogo?! – Allison was the first one to call out their siblings’ friends’ name. Barely letting his name roll from her tongue, the sea of emotions instantly overthrew her, and tears stormed down her face. Their beloved guardian turned around in shock, he looked so puzzled, it was as he didn’t recognize the people in front of him. You feared that was the case. What if we screwed it up even more?
- Oh, children. I was waiting for you all to return – he’s spoken politely and gifted us with a kind smile, just like he always did. You almost forgot what a courteous and caring figure Pogo was. His scarce although deep voice reminded you of simpler times. A type of nostalgia which you subconsciously yearned for god knows how long. Everyone gathered around him in a matter of seconds, engulfing him in a suffocating hug. Pogo was still bewildered from the sudden act of affection, as you all were from seeing him alive and breathing, but in this instant of happiness, the questions why and how didn’t matter. What mattered was the present minute, what you currently knew as is.
And next, a voice broke the silence.
Who would dare to turn around first? Who wanted to confirm that the voice that was just heard from behind them, came from a legit source? On a serious note, was it even real? Your minds are only playing tricks on you. You were ecstatic for having Pogo back, but it would be too good to be true to turn around and see the possessor of the voice. We can’t have all the wonderful things. It never went that well for you. Your bodies turned stiff, and your feet were frozen on spot. But what made you fear to turn around? The horror of hearing something that’s not truly there or facing it bravely. Something…someone you haven’t faced in roughly two decades.
- What the hell took you guys so long? – the annoyance sounded so raw, hence genuine. You could hear and understand the words crystal clear; then why didn’t you believe your ears?
The group hug disassembled at a snail's pace and turned to face what they never expected to see ever again in their lifetime. You, on the other hand, had secretly wished for a moment like this. Your heart was aching for the chance, not caring about being rational nor delusional. It kept the faith in your soul steady.
- Please, tell me I’m not the only one who can see him – Klaus muttered.
- Ben – Diego confirmed in a hushed tone without letting out any more words as he didn’t need to. He was the bravest out of all of you to speak up.
So, there he stood in his monochrome outfit, with his black leather jacket hugging his form and a coy smile painted all over his face. The faint rosy cheeks, lively eyes and vivid emotions displayed told you everything. The Ben standing in front of you was very much real, and more importantly, alive, and well.
- All of you look like you’ve seen a ghost – he grinned from ear to ear, and his light-hearted joke legitimately freed your body from the tension which held you in your place so aggressively. Number Four didn’t hesitate one second longer, and slammed himself against his brother, who sweetly returned the embrace. Registering it, savouring it, then finally loving the physical contact, Klaus broke up in a hysterical laughter. The group succeeded to pull the strings in a way his death was luckily prevented. How the hell did we manage this? But he didn’t care. All that mattered was the present minute, what he currently knew as is.
- You’re telling me, man – his laugh slowly started to die down, but his joy only rose. Of course, a group hug was crucially needed and initiated effective immediately. Everyone surrounded him, and you held onto each other tightly, so he never slips away from your grasp again. You admitted it to yourself, that it felt heavenly, but more precisely, it felt so damn terrific. The others eventually backed away, but you stayed right in front of him.
- Hey, you – were all he needed to say for you to go flying into his arms – Where have you been? I missed you – his confession was a simple, warm, and loving anecdote, and it broke your heart in the best way possible.
You missed me?
Your loud sobbing, and ocean of tears was baffling and a mystery to him, and he looked at the others with a perplexed expression. They asked him to just let you be because they understood everything perfectly. Each tear was valid and every one of them had a reason. His arms were wrapped around your body, as he was shielding you from all the cruelty in this world. His embrace wasn’t tight, but fond and sensitive enough. You weren’t greedy at all; it was just all too marvellous. Hearing his stable beating heart as he held you close to his chest completely fulfilled you. A featherlight kiss was tenderly placed on your forehead by him, in an attempt to calm you down. It failed, as more droplets of salty water coated your apple-like cheeks. Even so, the kiss was given so compassionately, it must have come from heaven itself.
Maybe you were in Heaven. Maybe your life ended when you arrived in the hall. This isn’t real and I’m probably dead in Diego’s arms by now. But what if you accepted it as your reality now? You couldn’t believe it, even after feeling his touch and his kiss on your body. It might be because you thought you didn’t think your wish to see the person closest to your heart again would ever come true. After the horrific months you went through, it was certainly an impossibility to be gifted with something this enormous, significant, and joyous.
Maybe miracles and lucky days exist. Maybe they existed both on the same day in favour of you. I’ll accept this, I deserve this. You absolutely deserve to be happy and to drop the burden that’s been weighing on your soul for years. Nobody deserves to live their lives in inescapable guilt and grief. Having Ben back in all your lives meant the world to you. You were thinking about how you might have to fill him in on the details of the previous events, but that was a case for a later part of the day. For now, it was nice to bask in his love and warmth. You’ll care about every other issue later. This was the only feeling that mattered in that moment. Peace finally taking its rightful place back in your heart, which has been waiting for it for a long time now. He radiated pureness, an energy which was incomparable to anything else. Clutching his jacket was your anxiety making sure he doesn’t leave again. Maybe he was reading your thoughts, but at the same time he was realizing he’d never leave you even if it meant his life.
- I missed you too.
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hufflautia · 4 years
Text
Late-night Shenanigans
Summary: Hufflepuff and Slytherin are strolling through the quiet halls, the moon shaped like a silver disc as it hangs in the starry sky. It’s midnight, which means that they have all the privacy in the world while the rest of the school sleeps. Romantic, right? Well, yes, but only if you label “scaring Hufflepuff while she’s distracted” as romantic. I won’t blame you if you aren’t surprised by Slytherin’s mischievous nature at this point. Hufflepuff certainly isn’t. In fact, she’s come prepared for payback. Slytherin seems to have forgotten that his girlfriend is just as rebellious as he is, and he shall have to pay a price for that—a very delightful price indeed. 
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“Boo!” 
Hufflepuff flinched and spun around in a panic, relaxing once she realized that it was merely her boyfriend fooling around. She let out a sigh of relief mixed with exasperation, fixating an unamused glare on Slytherin as he laughed at her. 
“You’re such a prick,” she huffed. “Why am I not surprised you did that?” Though she tried to maintain the pout on her face, she could not stave off the effects of Slytherin’s infectious smile.  
He shrugged and continued his stroll through the darkened corridor, with Hufflepuff begrudgingly following after him. “I guess you know me too well, darling,” he replied with a smirk. “It was dark and you were distracted. What else was I supposed to do but take that glorious opportunity to scare you? Besides, it was your idea to come out here—in the middle of the night, mind you—and venture around the school while everyone else is asleep.” He stopped walking and cocked his head to the side as he turned to face her. “So if you really think about it, that was technically your fault.” 
Hufflepuff let out an incredulous laugh and shook her head. “You’re the worst.” 
“Yeah,” he said coolly, his eyes narrowed as if he were challenging her. “And what’re you gonna do about it?”
She raised her eyebrows at this, and a smile slowly spread onto her face. It was a teasing grin that said, Oh you *really* shouldn’t have said that. Before Slytherin could say another word, she smacked a glob of whipped cream into his face. It dripped onto his shirt, the milky color of the dessert standing out from the dark green material like black ink on parchment paper. 
Now it was Hufflepuff’s turn to burst out laughing as Slytherin stood there in complete shock with cream covering most of his face. Her laughs echoed through the empty hall as he wiped at his eyes and examined his hands, smearing his thumb over the white substance. 
“What the…” 
“As you said, darling, I know you too well,” she cooed. “That’s why I came prepared for payback.” She held up a see-through bag of substances that was filled with whipped cream. An invisible force shaped the sweet delight into ball-like figures—perfect for pranking someone. 
“Behold George Weasley’s latest invention: Cry o’ cream! In a few minutes, your eyes are gonna start watering—hence the name—so you better wipe that off while you can.” 
She swiped a finger through the cream that was plastered onto his face and put it to her mouth, releasing it with a pop! “But it’s still perfectly edible,” she beamed, her smile widening as she took in his disgruntled expression. 
Too amused and proud of successfully pulling off her prank, Hufflepuff didn’t react fast enough to stop Slytherin from snatching the bag from her hand. He grabbed a ball of cream from within and chucked it at her in a flash. She had dodged with a shriek and began sprinting towards the end of the corridor, with him racing after her. 
And so the chase began.
She ignored Slytherin as he called after her. He said stuff like “Hey, get back here!” and “I just wanna talk!”. She continued running away from him because…well, it was Slytherin she was dealing with. She knew better than to trust his deceitful pleas after pulling a prank on him.    
Slytherin aimed and threw the balls at her whenever he was close enough, but she always managed to escape that tasty fate. At one point, he almost succeeded when one of them hit the exact spot that she had been at a few seconds ago. It splattered all over the wall, and flecks of the cream sprinkled onto her hair—a narrow miss. 
He finally cornered her at a dead end, his eyes lighting up with triumph once he realized that she had nowhere to go, nowhere to escape. 
“Wait!” Hufflepuff backed away as he walked towards her. “Why don’t we call a truce?” 
“I don’t think so,” he replied, venturing closer until her back was pressed against the wall. He reached into the bag for the final attack. To his great dismay, there were no more balls left.   
Her eyes darted from the bag to his disheartened facial expression, and she relaxed. “You don’t even have anymore,” she japed, crossing her arms with a smug smile. “Victory is mine.” 
Slytherin let out a dramatic sigh of defeat. 
“I guess you won this time,” he grumbled. His eyes suddenly lit up, and he smiled at her slyly before placing his arms on either side of her, effectively trapping her. “I think you owe me a kiss for your little stunt.” 
He leaned in with puckered lips, but she avoided the kiss by pressing her hands against his chest. “Hey,” she exclaimed, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “I know what you’re trying to do.” 
Slytherin arched an eyebrow and went poker-faced, acting as if he had no idea what she was talking about. “What’s wrong? Does my breath smell bad or something?”  
“You still have cream on your face and you know it!” 
“Oh really? Is that why my eyes feel like they’re burning right now?” 
Hufflepuff hummed a giggle and bit her lip. “Maybe?” 
“Little minx,” he chided jokingly before he leaned in again, trying to capture her lips with his. She tried to dodge his attempt but he managed to plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek. 
Hufflepuff let out an indignant sound of a squeal mixed in with a laugh. “Get away from me,” she laughed, a wide smile on her face as she playfully tugged at the hairs on the nape of his neck. “You just got cream on my face!” She squirmed in his grasp and tried to slip away from him, but his arms remained securely wrapped around her waist as he showered her with butterfly kisses—or at least tried to. 
After a while, Hufflepuff stopped resisting and welcomed his touch, softening her smile in surrender as she tilted her head up and closed the distance between them. He pulled her closer as their lips moved together like two partners dancing at a ball—smoothly, gracefully, and intimately. 
They pulled apart, both slightly breathless. He regarded her briefly, his gaze hanging on her parted lips. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” 
There was a smudge of cream on her nose but she paid it no mind, her face slightly flushed as she peered up at him. “I don’t think you ever tasted as sweet as you do now,” she quipped with a warm smile. 
Slytherin chuckled and wiped at the tip of her nose with his thumb. 
“Maybe you should prank me with whipped cream more often.” 
She hummed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’re gonna regret saying that in the future.” 
The corners of his mouth turned up. He had no doubt about it. Right as he leaned in for another kiss, they heard something—or someone—nearby. 
Hufflepuff drew in a sharp breath and squeezed his arm, looking around in alarm. Slytherin jerked his head in the direction of the hallway, silently beckoning her to follow him as he crept closer to the source of the sound. It seemed to be coming from one of the classrooms close by. 
With the door left ajar, they peeked in and caught a glimpse of an arm slumped on the table at the front of the room. Hufflepuff squinted to get a better look, knitting her brows once she realized who the arm belonged to. “What’s Professor Slughorn still doing here?”
“He probably fell asleep while grading the exams,” Slytherin responded, pointing at the papers scattered across the desk.
“I bet you got a perfect score. You were always the best at Potions.” 
Slytherin frowned. “Were?” 
“Were,” she affirmed with a cheeky grin. “You were the best until you became my tutor, not knowing that you were helping me become the soon-to-be superior, perfect, and downright amazing Potions student that I am today.” She squeezed his cheek affectionately. “But you’re a close second.” 
“Well, I’m still Slughorn’s favorite.” 
“Are not.” 
“Am too,” he retorted with a smirk, knowing that he was getting under her skin when she shot him a dirty look.
When Hufflepuff reached for the collar of his shirt to properly shut him up, she accidentally bumped her elbow against the door. 
Creaaaaaaaaak. 
She pulled away from him in alarm. The door swung open at a slow pace, continuing to make the eerie sound until Slytherin grabbed the knob in a hurry and stopped it from moving any further. 
Her eyes wide, Hufflepuff stood frozen and hoped that Professor Slughorn didn’t wake up from the noise. To her surprise, he remained motionless, light snores parting from his mouth every now and then. “He’s certainly out of it,” she whispered, staring at him in surprise. 
Slytherin furrowed his brows as he took in what Hufflepuff had just said, his interest piquing as he thought about it. Slughorn was out of it. An idea suddenly bloomed in his mind. He turned to her with a gleam in his eye and pulled something out from his pocket. 
“What do you say we partake in some late-night shenanigans,” he asked, a trace of mischief hidden beneath his words. 
Hufflepuff looked at the sharpie in his hand and stifled a laugh. She almost asked him why he had that in the first place but decided against it. It was no surprise that Slytherin always had some sort of prank up his sleeve. Even though it was irritating at times—especially when she was his prime target—she loved him, if not more.  
A wide smile slid across her face as she gazed at him fondly. 
“I’d love nothing more.” 
☾  
BONUS SCENE: 
“Mornin’ Professor,” a student chirped, walking to their desk. 
Professor Slughorn greeted them with a smile before turning his attention to the newspaper that he had been reading. He had gotten up later than usual today but managed to compose himself before the morning classes began. Waking up in the classroom was certainly helpful in being on time. “Good morning, Sterling. How are things with you and your sister Menna?” 
When there was no response, he looked back up. The student was staring at him, jaw-slacked. 
“Whatever is the matter, child?” He put the newspaper down. “Have I gotten her name wrong again?”  
“Uh, no, you got her name right,” they replied, their face still contorted with surprise. “You just…Professor, you have a little something on your face.”   
He frowned and stood up. How strange, he thought as he made way to the nearby cupboard. I didn’t have time to get breakfast, so there shouldn’t be a mess at all. Opening the closet to look at the mirror inside, he was expecting to see ink smudged somewhere. 
What Professor Slughorn did *not* expect to see was a black mustache drawn on his face. 
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MASTERLIST(ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง << sometimes links don’t work for some reason; if you can’t see it, just go to my profile. there, you shall find my masterlist, which is the pinned post. 
Let me know if you enjoyed reading this one-shot :) I welcome your thoughts, keysmashes, or a simple “oh my gucci gumdrops'' comment. Let’s not forget those glorious reblogs—I will seriously treasure your existence. 
Author’s note: 
Hello everyone! First things first: To the lovely anon who sent in the request, I hope you are pleased with the outcome of this one-shot. Thank you for the idea, I don’t think I would’ve come up with it on my own. 
Anyways, I’d like to share a scene that I deleted from the story. It’s from the moment when Hufflepuff and Slytherin are standing in front of Professor Slughorn’s door. The sentence before this deleted scene is “She squeezed his cheek affectionately. “But you’re a close second.””. Ok, here it is: 
He let out an exasperated breath. “Y’know, I’m glad I signed up for Slughorn’s tutoring program because that’s when I met you, but you’re making me regret that decision right now.”
Hufflepuff pouted and batted her eyelashes at him. “Oh, how ever will I change your mind,” she pondered, leisurely dragging her fingertips over his chest. 
Shooting her a dark look, he put his hand over hers on his chest and pulled her closer. 
“I have a few ideas...” 
Their lips collided once more, and Hufflepuff accidentally bumped her elbow against the door when she reached up to tangle her fingers into his hair. 
I deleted it because it just didn’t feel right to me. The “tutoring program” bit was redundant. Also, I like what I replaced it with instead. 
Did anyone catch the hidden meaning behind this part: “When Hufflepuff reached for the collar of his shirt to properly shut him up, she accidentally bumped her elbow against the door...She abruptly pulled away from him in alarm.” I’m not sure if I should explain it or not lmao but it’s for anyone who wished to read more PDA or fluff. 
This is what my writing process is like: I write down ideas that I have for the story and basically any dialogue that pops up in my brain. When I actually start writing the fic, I keep the general ideas and finalize them. I do it sentence by sentence. For instance, the original beginning that I wrote down when the ideas were flowing was this:
Sly dude and huff girl sneak out for some shenanigans 
They’re walking through the dark corridor and she turns. Sly? Sly, she whispers harshly, her voice getting louder and more frantic
He scares her and laughs 
Slytherin! You scared me, [insult] . She pouted. Why am i not surprised that you did that? 
Then, during the weekend when I started working on the story, I looked over my ideas and started writing the beginning based on that. It turned into this: 
“Boo!” 
Hufflepuff whirled around and stepped back in a panic, only relaxing once she realized that it was merely her boyfriend fooling around. She let out a sigh of relief mixed with exasperation, fixating an unamused glare on Slytherin as he laughed. 
“You’re such a prick,” she huffed. “Why am I not surprised you did that?”
I’m gonna show you what I put down as the general details for the entire fanfic. I wrote it the day that I got the anon ask. 
Sly dude and huff girl sneak out for some shenanigans 
They’re walking through the dark corridor and she turns. Sly? Sly, she whispers harshly, her voice getting louder and more frantic
He scares her and laughs 
Slytherin! You scared me, [insult] . She pouted. Why am i not surprised that you did that? 
Guess you know me too well, darling. It was dark and you were distracted. What else was i supposed to but scare you? Besides, it was your idea to come out here in the first place, sooo if you think about it, this is technically your fault. 
She glared at him. You’re the worst. 
Yea, he shrugged, a smirk that challenged her. And what’re you gonna do about it
She gave him a sweet smile with a hint of mischievousness before smacking a glob of cream into his face
Now it was her turn to burst out laughing as he stood there, shocked with white cream all over his face. She doubled over laughing as he wiped at his eyes and held out his covered hands, pressing his thumb against the liquid/material/cream to examine it 
What the… 
She stepped closer and swiped a finger through the cream on his cheek and put it to her mouth. Like you said, darling, I know you too well. Thats why i came prepared for payback. And she held up a bag of ball-like figures with white stuff inside from fred and george’s shop, like a trick thing in which its small but u open it and it poofs into a plate of cream . “George Weasley’s latest invention. Cry o’ cream” or some nice name. 
She was too proud of her prank to stop him from snatching the bag from her hand and chucking one at her. She ducked and shrieked, and began running away. He chased her and kept throwing it but missed bc she was quick. She passed a wall and he threw it and it splattered to the spot right next to her head and some got in her hair. He cornered her in a wall and she looked at him and frantically said, wait, stop! i call truce!
He reached into the bag but it was empty. She relaxed. You dont even have any more, she chortled, crossing her arms. Victory is mine, she smirked, staring at him as he walked closer. 
He let out a dramatic sigh. I guess you won this time, he grumbled. Suddenly his eyes lit up and he smiled at her slyly. I think you owe me a kiss for your little stunt. He leaned in with puckered lips
Hey, she laughed and avoided, putting her hands on his chest. i know what youre trying to do
What’s wrong? Does my breath smell bad or something? 
You still have stuff on your face and you know it! 
She avoided his lips but he managed to plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek. She let out an indignant sound like a squeal mixed with a laugh. get away from me, she exclaimed, a wide smile on her face as she leaned away from him but he had effectively trapped her in
As they continued play-fighting-- with him trying to kiss her and her pushing him away-- they heard soft snoring from somewhere nearby and looked into a room  
Professor [name] was still in their classroom
What are they still doing there, she whispered
Probably grading the exams, he responded, pointing at the papers on the desk
She leaned in closer and accidentally nudged the door, and it made a very loud creak. It kept pushing back slowly and the creak continued. 
Creaaaaak 
She winced but sly acted quickly leaned over and grabbed the door to stop it from moving 
She stood there, frozen with her hand over her mouth. 
However, to both of their surprise, professor didnt react. They kept on sleeping 
An idea bloomed in his head and he looked at her with a devilish gleam in his eye as he brought out something from his pocket. What do you say we partake in some late-night shenanigans, he whispered, holding up a sharpie.  
Her eyes darted from his face to the pen in his hand. She smiled at him. 
I’d love nothing more. 
-
Bonus scene??????? 
Mornin’ professor, a student chirped. 
Professor scratched his head and smiled at them lazily, reaching for their notes on the desk. Morning, [last name] 
The student suddenly stared at them, jaw-slacked. 
What is it, child? 
Uh… you have something on your face.
The professor frowned and opened a nearby cupboard to check the door. 
There was a moustache drawn on his face.
As you can see, my original plan for the middle part of the story where Slytherin is trying to kiss Hufflepuff was to make Huff resist against him in a joking manner. When I start writing, I flesh out the story and make some improvements. Personally, I prefer the fluffy bit in which they actually do kiss, because it was cute! 
Also, I have a meme (it isn’t related to the story): 
“Hi everyone, the next fanfic that I am posting will be chapter 4 of the slytherpuff series!” 
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“I’M POSTING A ONE-SHOT TOMORROW.” 
Yes, yes, I know. Jessica breaks a promise once again :( I am sorry to the people who were looking forward to reading chapter 4 as soon as possible. During my free time, I thought about writing it, but I held back because I wanted to work on part 2 of “Cheater”, given the fact that it is half-finished. I did not want to start a whole new story when I already had one that is kinda-almost-halfway finished, one that many of you are anticipating to read. Then again, I literally just wrote a whole new one-shot instead of working on part 2...someone please get me the clown suit, I need to wear it. 
I actually did work on part 2 too, I just finished this one-shot first because I was excited to write it. I actually do have a valid reason for writing this one-shot instead of continuing to write part 2. The time I take to write chapters for the slytherpuff series is about 6 days if I work on it non-stop. The time I take to write mini-series “chapters” depends on the mini-series itself. For “Mine”, it will definitely be long, so it is taking some time to finish. For one-shots, it takes about a day or two. That’s the main reason I decided to work on this story instead of working on other stuff—it is more likely that I will suffer from writer’s block when I’m working on the mini-series and the main series. One-shots are quick and easy. This leads us to the topic of the next paragraph...   
It is likely that I have attached negative emotions to the slytherpuff series, which explains why I am hesitating to get started on chapter 4. Everyone, prepare yourselves, it’s gonna get a tad bit sad. When I was working on chapter 3 during the summer, I faced a period of writer’s block in which I was very depressed because I read a murder case that was triggering and I went down a spiral. The case made me believe that the world was corrupt, and I became so very numb and literally just stared out the window for five hours straight while the google doc for chapter 3 was open on my screen. That was a terrible experience, and now, I think I’m anxious of working on any chapters relating to the slytherpuff series because I’m afraid of being sucked into that headspace again. Going back to what I was saying in the previous paragraph, I don’t want to get writer’s block while writing chapter 4 because it will remind me of what happened over the summer. I’m scared that I’ll go back to staring out the window while the google doc for chapter 4 sits on my screen. The good thing is that I’m not depressed and in the same mental state as I was before, so hopefully that won’t happen. It takes a long time to write the chapters because they’re lengthy. I hesitated to write chapter 4 because I only want to do it when I have a big burst of motivation and energy and excitement to get started in it. That way, I’ll be able to work on it for a week straight, which is difficult since I have school. That explains why it was kind of easy to write the slytherpuff series beforehand because that was in the summer and I had a lot of time to write. Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean that I can’t write the story during the weekends. Maybe the cure is to keep working on the chapters despite this fear so that I will come to realize that all is well and the slytherpuff series is not cursed—and yes, the traumatized part of me does think it’s a liiiitle cursed. 
Similar to “people who got into car accidents and became scared of driving, but overtime, they started driving again and slowly got over their fear,” I will try to do the same. 
I am not sure what fic I will work on next. I do have one in mind but I am not gonna say anything, because I feel as though I jinx myself when I tell others about what I am working on. For instance, when I told everyone that I would be posting The Queen and the Dragon for Thanksgiving, I ended up not doing that. I will try to refrain from sharing what I am working on until I am 100% sure that it is ready to be posted. That way, I won’t lift anyone’s hopes up of reading another fic and then immediately squashing it down by saying that there is a delay. As you are probably well aware of, I break promises sometimes without meaning to—and I feel very bad for it! I am not the type of person who’s like “haha yes omg I break promises and what about it? I’m just built different.” I kept asking people what I should do in this situation and saying stuff like, “Should I work on chapter 4 or part 2 or the one-shot? I really wanna work on the one-shot but I made a promise that chapter 4 would be the next thing I posted.” They gave the good advice of, “THIS IS YOUR BLOG DUDE DO WHAT YOU WANT!” I am still having some trouble with my problem of wanting to make people happy and putting others before myself. I guess I had a small victory for myself in the sense that I decided to write this instead of writing chapter 4, which I didn’t want to do. 
Anyways, have a fantabulous day! I’ll see you all again when I write another fanfic. Who knows what I will post next?
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goldentournesol · 4 years
Text
Proper Date
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(Spencer Reid x Reader)
The one where Spencer and Y/N go on a proper date after being kidnapped together.
Part 2 of Unwanted Matchmaker: Read Part 1 here :)
A/N: makes minor references to Part 1, but can be read without reading it. ENJOY SOME SPENCER FLUFF! i got a little carried away...but it’s worth it! thank you to @theamuz , @andiebeaword , @yourwonderbelle​ for requesting a part 2! 
Length: 2.5k
masterlist
Luckily enough, Friday came sooner than Spencer had thought it would. He was finally able to take a break from the team. Y/N had texted him Friday morning to confirm the date. She hadn’t stopped thinking about him for a single moment ever since they went their separate ways the day of the fateful kidnapping. She never thought she’d ever be thankful for such a situation.
She was nervous, she knew very little about the Dr., but had gathered bits and pieces of him on the days she saw him at that coffee shop. She thought he was gorgeous. She also thought she may have imagined it when she caught his eyes lingering on her once or twice, but the imagination became set in stone when his face broke into what seemed like the most adorable shy smile that could possibly appear on someone’s face. She should have talked to him then, but she would have been late to her class. She couldn’t have been more glad to go on a date with him.
Spencer had gotten off work two hours early to ensure he had enough time to be nervous while getting ready.
“Woah, where you goin’, pretty boy?” Morgan asked as he watched Spencer begin to pack his things.
Spencer rolled his eyes, he should have timed his exit better, “Uh...I have an appointment?” He made an attempt to lie. 
“You always this nervous going to appointments?” Emily chimed in.
“Wait, wait, what day is it?” Morgan asked.
“Friday.” Emily replied.
A knowing smile made a home on Morgan’s face, “Aha! Pretty boy’s got a date!” Spencer quickly shot him a look that screamed, ‘how did you know?!’, “I may have overheard you talking to the girl the day the unsub took you.”
Once again, Spencer rolled his eyes, “My God, can’t I have just one thing to myself? Just once?” He tried to hide his smile though.
“Nu-uh, not when it’s making you this nervous!” Emily pointed out, noticing how Spencer’s hand was turning white at the intensity it held onto his bag.
“Well, Emily, it’s not every day that I have a date with someone who is practically the embodiment of beauty.” Spencer uttered with a slew of exasperated hand motions.
Morgan let out a chuckle, “Calm down, kid. She seemed really into you. I’m sure she’s just as dorky as you are.” Emily smiled endearingly at the youngest member of their team and nodded.
“Yeah, haven’t you guys been in contact like..all week? She wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t interested.” She added and noticed the slight drop of Spencer’s shoulders. Maybe they were right, he probably had nothing to worry about. He nodded and began to smile.
“Go get her, kid. Just try to keep the statistics at a minimum.” He joked around before Emily interjected quickly, “No! Be yourself!” Spencer laughed and gave them a double thumbs up before quickly saying goodbye and heading home.
He called the restaurant to double check his reservation and tried to pick out an outfit that wouldn’t scream, ‘I got off work two hours early’. He showered, shaved, and attempted to style his hair, but it was too much of a task to tackle, so he left it to do whatever it pleased. He decided he’d stick to his normal attire with a white and blue checkered button down, a navy v-neck sweater and a matching blazer to elevate the look. He contemplated whether or not a tie would make the outfit over the top, but then remembered that the restaurant would be quite fancy and added it anyway. He left his house a half hour early to make sure he had enough time to pick up a bouquet. That was romantic, right? People do this all the time, right? He took a deep breath and reminded himself to stop stressing. He decided to get her red flowers to match the dress she wore when he first saw her. She was wearing a white dress with a motif of small red flowers with black centers, it was safe to say she blew him away that day. 
He checked the time and saw that it was still early, so he texted her. They had agreed on meeting at the restaurant, but he just couldn’t wait to see her.
“Hey, would it be okay if I picked you up instead of meeting there?” She lived closer to the restaurant anyway and he wanted to ensure her safety any time he possibly could.
“Yeah, sure! I’ll send you the location.” She did just that and Spencer made it there on time, of course.
He took a deep breath as he stood at her doorstep with the bouquet of flowers. He gave himself a miniature pep talk and knocked on the door three times. Spencer hoped the knocks were louder than his heartbeats beating relentlessly in his ears.
Y/N’s heart leapt as she heard the knocks, “Coming! Just one second!” She made her way over to the door, struggling to put in one of her earrings. 
She opened the door for him, “I’m sorry, I’m almost rea-” She breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of him. She admired his every angle, he looked immaculate to say the least. She’d only noticed that she dropped her earring on the floor because she followed his eyes to where it lay.
“You..um, dropped your..” He stuttered, turning red. Was it him who made her nervous? She laughed nervously and retrieved it quickly, putting it on. He cleared his throat to try to regain his composure from seeing her, “You look...stunning.” He let out a breath and shook his head as if to clear the fog in his brain that she unintentionally created, “Oh! Um, and these are for you!” He extended the arm holding the bouquet. 
She smiled and accepted them graciously, “Oh, these are beautiful, you didn’t have to trouble yourself, Dr. Reid.” He loved the way his name sounded coming from her.
“It was nothing, really, it’s the least I could do, and please, call me Spencer.” He smiled and she mirrored it instantly.
“Come in, Spencer. I’ll put these in a vase, put on my shoes, and we’ll head right out!” He watched her as she disappeared into her apartment. 
A sparkly, form-fitting black dress adorned her figure contrasting to the flowy nature of the dresses Spencer had usually seen her in. He tried not to profile her apartment as much as he could, but he was too curious not to. He saw unfinished canvases and the apartment smelled vaguely of paint thinner. He admired her paintings but also tried not to snoop. She came out of her room, completely ready, and saw him staring at her paintings.
“Uhm, those aren’t quite done yet.” She stated shyly, “I have a habit of getting sidetracked.” She giggled and gestured to her unfinished paintings. 
He smiled as he turned to her, “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to poke around.” He stated quickly but she just smiled at him, “These are incredible, I don’t believe I have a single artistic bone in my body.” He laughed.
“Yeah, right! That can’t be true.” She teased. 
Spencer grinned and checked the time, “Are you all done? We should get going. I hope you don’t mind walking there.” She nodded and they made their way out. The restaurant was a short walk away and the whole time Spencer fiddled with his hands in his pockets nervously except for when he was describing something, a habit he had. They arrived at the restaurant.
“Good evening, reservation for Dr. Reid.” Spencer said and Y/N hated the way her stomach went into a fit of somersaults at that. That was a lie, she kind of loved it.
They were seated and they could finally make uninterrupted eye-contact. She smiled at him and Spencer hoped his swooning wasn’t too obvious. They ordered their food and made conversation as they waited.
“So, Spencer, how did you get into the FBI?” She asked as she propped her chin on her hand. Her gaze was enough to send Spencer into the next dimension.
“Believe it or not, I’m unbelievably athletic.” He joked and she bubbled with laughter. Spencer couldn’t take his eyes off her as she laughed, determined to never stop her from doing it, “seriously,” he continued, “they took one look at me at the academy and were like, yeah we need this dude chasing down bad guys immediately!” She laughed again and shook her head.
“Aw, come on, don’t bring yourself down!” She smiled wide and took one of his hands that were resting on the table. Spencer’s heart soared at the action and was glad it was different from the way it felt as she clutched his hand when they were kidnapped together.
“I guess the FBI needed me because well...serial killers and criminals often have a tendency to create puzzles that are seemingly impossible to crack, and I just so happen to be very good at cracking those puzzles. I usually do that by analyzing their behavior. I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit.” She could tell he was being humble, but she couldn’t help but be impressed.
“Aren���t you a Doctor? I’m assuming PhD?” She saw him blush.
“Uh, three actually.” He looked off to the side bashfully. Her jaw dropped at his humility, but he just smiled, “In Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering…” he paused, “as well as degrees in Psychology and Sociology.” She laughed in somewhat of a shock. Spencer knew his credentials were impressive but for some reason her validation seemed so important to him.
“What….how? How old are you?” She gawked. 
He laughed, “I’m 30. I graduated high school at the age of 12. I have an IQ of 187 and can read 20,000 words per minute. I have an eidetic memory which basically means I can remember lots of information accompanied by the ability to recall things with accuracy which of course came in handy while I was getting those PhD’s…”
“Wow...” was all she could say, she suddenly felt insignificant, but her smile never faltered. He had no intention of making her feel that way and she knew that, but she had no idea how she possibly landed a date with a...genius.
“Yeah...it kind of overwhelms people, I hope you’re not too intimidated.” He laughed shyly. She giggled, how could she be when his awkwardness made him oh so endearing.
“I’m not gonna lie, it’s a little intimidating, but they are amazing accomplishments and you have every right to be proud of them.” She assured him by squeezing his hand, just like he did hers when she was nervous. He appreciated the gesture and they grinned at each other.
“So when did you start painting?” He asked her as he took a sip of wine.
“All my life, it seems. I couldn’t think of anything else that I wanted to do. There’s something about the way the paintbrush feels in my hand. I don’t know, I guess I wanted to add more color into people’s worlds…and I love kids! I just knew I had to teach them.” She gushed and he admired the way her eyes sparkled.
“You know there are countless studies that support the idea of painting as a stress reliever. Actually, there was this one study where…” he continued to ramble and Y/N seemed to hang onto every word. He was so adorable in the way that he described things and bounced from one topic to another. She didn’t interrupt him once, not even when the food was set down on their table. He only stopped when he felt the warmth of her hand disappear from his so she could start eating. She peered at him curiously, wondering why he stopped.
“Sorry,” he grinned, “didn’t realize I’d been rambling.” 
She shook her head, smiling wide, “If I knew half the things you know, I would want to share them with everyone too. I love it.”
He hadn’t expected her response but he was grateful because she hadn’t belittled him like most people do. They ate as they shared stories from their lives. Spencer noticed how the wine added a flush to her cheeks and he wondered how much more beautiful she could possibly get. She insisted on feeding him a piece of her meal but she couldn’t reach that far across the table and Spencer thought that was adorable. He’d had to lean forward just to have some, the interaction made his cheeks ache from smiling. Soon, they finished their food and Spencer took care of the bill, Y/N insisted she’d take care of dessert. 
They got up and headed out of the restaurant. They were greeted by the soft chill of the nighttime. Spencer had noticed immediately how Y/N’s arms instinctively shot up to hug herself and shield her body away from the cold. He took his blazer off and placed it on her shoulders. She blushed at the warm gesture and gladly slid her arms through. 
She smiled up at him gratefully, “Thanks, Spencer. Are you sure you won’t get cold?” The way she slipped her arm through his and hugged his arm almost made him forget to reply. 
“I’m good, this um, sweater vest is warmer than it looks.”
He usually shied away from touch, but if there was one thing Spencer was sure of, it was that he never wanted her to let go of him. They walked in the moonlight. Conversation with her came easily. They found themselves in front of the coffee shop where they first learned of each other. It seemed it only fit to celebrate their first date there. They walked in and the woman behind the counter beamed as she saw the two of them walking in together. It was like she knew. She greeted Y/N and the Dr. gleefully and happily took their order. Spencer physically had to bite his lip to keep from smiling too much. They sat down where Spencer usually sat with his books.
“The first time I saw you sitting here, you were literally zooming through a book. I thought you’d had to have been looking for a specific quote or something, not actually reading it!” She giggled as she took a piece of the carrot cake they’d ordered. She didn’t want to let go of his warmth, so they decided to sit next to each other. Spencer didn’t mind that one bit, he’d taken his hand out of his pocket and laced his fingers through hers, their arms still looped in one another’s.
He nodded at her words, taking another piece, “The first time I saw you, you were just walking in, with your earbuds in. I was quite literally blown away.” He sheepishly admitted. She was taken aback by his sweetness and she shook her head. This man had to be too good to be true. She looked up at him and placed a gentle kiss to his cheek.
“I never thought I’d say this but...I’m so glad I was kidnapped.” She said and that sent the both of them into a roar of laughter that made the entire coffee shop jealous of what they had.
Part 1
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elpercotreviews · 3 years
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Reviewing My Anime 10/10's *Relatively* Spoiler-Free
Note: What I rank a 10/10 is very specific and obviously very subjective to my own. Something can only be a 10/10 if I already consider it a 9/10 AND I must have rewatched it. I am someone who typically does not rewatch/reread anything, unless it's something I truly absolutely enjoy. With that being said, because of the requirements, I only have 4 animes that I rank 10/10, and tbh only one of those animes would get that ranking from the general anime audience. The rest are SO SO SO specific to my particular tastes that I would be absolutely stunned if someone also had the same four as me, because the requirement is so specific. Imma make another post eventually for my 9/10's because I think that list makes a lot more sense for a general anime audience lmaooo.
Soooo, in order of least personal to most personal (although obviously they're all personal to me lol) we have:
1. Psycho-Pass
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Recommended for people who: are really into that dark dystopian future society vibes, are fans of Ghost in the Shell, like detective/crime stories
Okay, for a few people, this one actually probably makes some sense. At the moment, it has an 8.37 on myanimelist which means this anime is super well liked. I've watched this anime twice, first the original and then the second time I watched the director's cut (yes that exists lol). Overall, I'm a huge fan of the entire Psycho-Pass anime series as a whole. I've watched all three seasons, as well as two of the movies. I didn't watch any of the Sinners of the System ones cuz tbh I literally couldn't find an english sub of that anywhere, it just doesn't exist lol. I think it's okay cuz the ratings for the Sinners of the System trio of movies seems meh. I've actually watched Psycho-Pass the Movie like three/four times LMAO but that's simply cuz a movie is obviously much quicker to watch than an entire anime season. Like just objectively, the Psycho Pass series as a whole is very inconsistent in quality due to the fact that it's all original, so they do technically just make up everything as they go lol. Season two is all right (I think it gets more hate than it should), three is good but season one by far is the absolute best in the entire series. I'd argue the movie is technically my absolute favorite out of the whole IP, but I actually give the movie an 8/10. The movie, because of being obviously way shorter, simply does not have the deep controversial and philosophical lines of thought that season one has. It lacks that extra depth that would make me put it anything higher than an 8. The two main characters have good chemistry as a crime-fighting duo and the main villain's rivalry/relationship with the male lead is super compelling. The female lead is meant to be relatively naive/more on the innocent side which works with the plot as it allows the show to naturally explain and give more exposition as to the actual world and rules of Psycho-Pass without having it seem so ham-fisted or just throwing info to the audience.
2. Violet Evergarden
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Recommended for people who: cry to sad movies, like gorgeous animation, are very empathetic, like vignette-esque storytelling
All right if you even remotely consider yourself an avid anime fan, then this anime is probably also somewhere on your 10/10 list or at least an anime you consider to be "very good." That is, unless you are that very vocal minority who simply really just REALLY do not like this anime for some god forsaken reason. However, in my honest opinion, I think an anime like this just really doesn't sit well with ... how do I put this blunty ... people who do not give a fuck about other people or anyone else's feelings but their own. Basically, IF YOU ARE SELFISH, A NARCISSIST, EGOTISTICAL, OR ANY SORT OF COMBO OF THOSE THREE, YOU WILL NOT LIKE THIS ANIME. And if you do, you probably don't think you're any of those things. Because of the anime's very premise, I find it very difficult to see a very self-centered/heartless person particularly enjoying this anime. The whole premise of this anime is that the main character who, because of her upbringing, doesn't understand feelings/emotions, especially the concept of love, grows as a human and slowly begins to learn what love is. The show does this by showing multiple sets of characters meant to represent different types of love (romantic, familial, platonic, etc). The vocal minority of people I've seen give Violet Evergarden bad ratings all typically argue that although beautiful, the anime doesn't have any substance/doesn't really mean anything. If that's honestly all you got after watching the entire show, then you deadass just don't get it, and you probably will never ever get it. If you've seen or heard of Vivy: Fluorite Eye's Song, than just know that these two animes are VERY very similar in vibe despite being technically different genres. However, I personally found the themes and concepts in Vivy are done much more masterfully in Violet Evergarden which I think is due to Vivy's heavier focus on a story-driven overarching plot/action as opposed to Violet Evergarden's focus more on emotional impact/an episodic format. I've watched the entire series and I've rewatched the main show twice. TBH you can probably skip the gaiden movie AKA the one set at the girl's academy it was highkey pointless. Compared to the opera episode they added as a "special", the gaiden movie was still good but I wish resources were dedicated to something that actually added to the story. ALSO YES I KNOW ITS A GAIDEN AKA A SIDE STORY AKA FILLER SO YES NO DUH IT DIDNT ADD ANYTHING, BUT STILL. As for the main show, I think I cried for three episodes (the one about the playwright/author I forgot lol, the mother and daughter, and the soldier). On my rewatch, I didn't cry but I still deeply cared for and related to the characters. Violet Evergarden is a beautiful anime with a beautiful story.
3. ACCA: 13-ku Kansatsu Ka
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Recommended for people who: like bread and bakeries, don't mind a very chill and slow-paced story, like stories about political intrigue and hidden agendas
Based on a relatively short manga, ACCA: 13 follows the main character Jean Otus as he performs his job of auditing the 13 districts of his country Dowa, while rumors and politics brew in the background that threaten to entangle Jean into a complicated plot. To be honest, I think properly reviewing this anime is impossible for me, because I just can't really explain the vibes of this anime besides "chill" and "intriguing." I think trying to explain anything more than the basic premise I just wrote would spoil a lot of what ACCA is, because it's plot is actually relatively quite simple and straightforward. Compared to Psycho-Pass which has a relatively good cult following, and Violet Evergarden which is universally praised, ACCA is an anime that I've yet to personally meet anyone who has ever even heard of it LMAOO. And almost everyone I know watches anime, so that's saying something oof. ACCA is made by Madhouse, which if you don't know, is a super well known anime studio, producing big hits such as Death Note, Hunter x Hunter, One Punch Man, etc. That's why I'm surprised that ACCA has flown just SO under the radar, but that may be due to the overalls nature of the anime itself. ACCA is an anime where all the characters hold their card close and no one seems to really share their real thoughts. One main criticism the anime has is the lack of deeper connections to characters and that for a main character, Jean Otus is very bland. To be honest, I think that's a very fair criticism and I can understand why this would prevent people from rating this anime higher than an 8 or 7. Due to the very nature of the anime and its plot, I do agree that there is a huge cast of colorful characters that we unfortunately don't really get to know more about. To be honest though, I don't mind this because I feel that's honestly quite realistic, especially factoring in Jean's job. All these places he's going and all these people he's meeting, it's literally just his job. He's not on vacation, these people aren't his friends, so the anime has no real reason to dwell much longer on places past its specific episode. Just like in real life, you encounter so many people and go past so many places that you probably won't ever see again. So for me personally, I didn't mind that the anime didn't explicitly show much about the backstories or lives of the cast, save for the very main characters (as their backstories were plot relevant). I think as viewers of not simply an anime, but a whole other world, I think it should be satisfactory to inherently understand that these are whole "people" who have entire lives that we are not exactly privy to. So although admittedly our understanding of many of the characters was all around quite shallow, I think that works for the scope of the anime, which was relatively simple and focused on just Jean living his life and the political plot stirring in the background until it was brought forward in the second half of the anime. Also I love Jean Otus. I actually completely absolutely adore him. He is literally my profile pic for myanimelist LMAO. I think calling him "bland" is fair from other people's perspectives, especially as the supposed main character of an ANIME, but I feel that if ACCA was in a different format like a novel, I think his personality would have been less criticized. Like I said, I love him soo much. I don't find him bland at all, but actually very interesting and highkey attractive LOL (if only he'd quit smoking but it's part of his charm 😞). Yes for an anime "protagonist," he is quite underwhelming especially compared to others, but I think that makes him very charming!!! Like all he wants to do is just chill, vibe, and do his job lmaooo. I think as a person, he’s very charismatic, and in the world of ACCA the rest of the characters see that as well. Because like, if he really were such a bland person, why would so many people like him and actually trust him lol? As for why it’s technically my favorite anime of all time (my ultimate one is a movie), I can’t give super detailed reasons why to be honest. I just really like the overall vibes of the anime itself, and I think the anime is just super unique and original. I’ve watched a ton of anime over the years, but I’ve genuinely seen nothing like ACCA in the slightest. I mean, just look at the recommended animes on the myanimelist. The recommended animes are all stuff I’ve also personally really liked (like fugou keiji unlimited and the great pretender) but yeah there’s just truly nothing that’s close to what ACCA is, and because of that, it reminds my absolute favorite anime show. I’ve seen the dub and the sub, even though I am a vehement dub hater lmaooo (except for very few circumstances, and this also applies to all non-English media, not just anime). There was only one thing in the entire show that slightly confused me/ seemed slightly unbelievable and I won’t spoil but it had something to do with the overall timeline of some events, but it doesn’t detract from the story at all. Oh and the art style! I really love the art style of the anime. It stays pretty true to the manga, but is also just an overall kind of art style I really like. I really enjoy the more like 2d/flat/drawn art style versus really clean and really detailed stuff, and I’m typically not a big fan of very obvious use of CGI (unless done tastefully like in Demon Slayer). All the backgrounds in ACCA have this painted/drawn style and the anime itself has this like muted(?) filter over it that makes the anime seem like someone’s drawings just put up on display in a way that’s really refreshing and nice. I highly recommend this story for anyone who wants a breath of fresh air and to get away from the typical action-packed high energy of big name anime.
4. From Up on Poppy Hill
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Imma make a whole separate post JUST for this movie so I can explain why I love this movie so so much. And honestly, Imma need a whole separate post in the first place to address the elephant in the room when it comes to this movie (if you’ve seen it, then you know what I’m talking about). And if you’ve haven’t seen the movie, maybe you’ve heard about one of its controversial themes. I’m not gonna say what it is, cuz I KNOW it’ll be super off-putting for a lot of people, but please omg just hear me out. I just love this movie so so much. I’ve seen it like 7 times and counting. I have it downloaded on my computer and on a flash drive. I’ve watched the sub AND the dub however I’ve stopped watching the dub because it makes me sad every time I hear Shun’s voice actor ;-; This movie is legit an honest-to-god comfort movie for me that I could watch over and over and I’ll fall in love with it again each and every time. And once again IMMA MAKE A WHOLE SEPARATE POST BECAUSE I SWEAR PEOPLE ARE GONNA BE LIKE “Yo ain’t this the movie with the -----” and it’s like PLEASE LET ME EXPLAIN. The vibes of this movie, the themes it addresses (yes even THAT theme), the music, the art, the characters, is perfectly presented in a way that I will never stop watching this movie. The only other film that has come close to the amount of times I’ve watched From Up on Poppy Hill would be Legally Blonde lmaooooo. 
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The Sweetest of Them All
A/N: just another little bonus part of the AFTR universe that I came up with out of nowhere. Also, I left this as third person instead of second. Enjoy!
Word Count: 3.2k
Y/N has never been a big fan of Valentine's Day.
To her, it was overrated and expensive. But, she'd be lying if she said she didn't love the fact that it gave an extra reason to love on Auston a ridiculous amount. Sure, she did that every day, but to be fair, she loved how the title of Valentine's Day added a bit more fun and excitement to something she'd normally do any other day. It felt different for some reason, so even though she didn't love the so-called holiday, she still tried to plan something special for it every year.
Admittedly, she and Auston almost got competitive about it with trying to one-up the other with affection. They didn't care about gifts. They cared about the time they spent together and the thoughtfulness behind it.
Usually, it was Y/N that came up with something ridiculously sweet for Valentine's Day to do for Auston. However, this year, he had her beat.
For some odd reason, Y/N woke up very early that day. Maybe it was the baby waking her, or perhaps it was her internal clock saying sleep was no longer necessary. But, regardless, she was awake much earlier than usual. She also knew Mia wasn't awake or else she would've heard her, so she took that time to lie back in bed and relax for a few minutes on her own.
The bed felt incredibly empty, given that Auston was with the Leafs in Washington and wasn't expected to be back in Toronto until late that night. Frank was a good cuddle buddy alternative, but sometimes the Goldendoodle just wasn't enough when Y/N was missing her man. Of course, this was one of the days when she missed him a lot, so she took that as an excuse to text Auston and at least get this so-called holiday kicked off.
Y/N Happy Valentine's Day, Aus 🥰 can't wait to see you tonight
She wasn't expecting him to message back right away, seeing as it was only 7:30 in the morning, but much to her surprise, he did.
Auston Happy Valentine's Day, babe 💕 Can't wait to see you either. Did the flowers for Mia get delivered?
Y/N Yes, they got here last night. They're beautiful. I set them on the kitchen counter, so once she's awake and we go downstairs, she'll see her little V-Day gift from you
Auston Perfect. I got part of your Valentine's thing with me right now too. Ready for it?
Y/N Is it going to make me cry?
Auston Probably
Y/N Great. Hit me with your best shot
She stared at her phone screen for a moment, expecting it to light up with the notification of an incoming FaceTime call from her husband or a picture, but instead, he sent her a link. But not just any link, it was the link to the video recording of a new Spittin' Chiclets podcast episode that was over an hour-long called 'Love Day: Part One.'
Confused, but also insanely curious, Y/N then leaned over to grab her laptop from the bedside table and got into the most comfortable position her growing baby bump would allow so she could watch the video like that. As soon as she was about to press play, her phone buzzed with another text.
Auston This was filmed a couple of weeks ago when the Chiclets guys were in Toronto. They interviewed at least 10 different guys in the league at different times, and they're kind of long, which is why there's more than one part. Just watch the intro, then I'm the first interview. Mitch is on part 2 if you want to watch that as well, but yeah... call me when you're done 💕
Still unsure of how to process what was going on, Y/N just shook her head and followed the link.
The video started with Biz, Whit and Rear sat all-around a table, each wearing a different red, white or pink shirt with heart-shaped balloons positioned behind them. Empty bottles of Pink Whitney sat on the table, acting as vases for bouquets of roses, making Y/N roll her eyes and chuckle at how far these guys would go for good product placement. But, she kept watching, and unsurprisingly, Biz was the first to speak.
Biz: "For Valentines Day this year, we wanted to do something different. Something more soft. So, we're going to tell, well, I guess, show some love stories."
Whit: "Bet you all didn't know that some of the greatest love stories to ever be told have happened to some of the guys that play in the NHL. Don't believe me? Guess you'll have to listen to find out what they are."
Rear: "We asked some players to come in and talk to us about their relationship stories and give as many details as they were willing to give. And let me tell you, they were great. To start us off, we have Auston Matthews of the Toronto Maple Leafs telling us his fairytale romance."
The video then clipped to a shot of Biz sitting next to Auston in what Y/N assumed was the hotel downtown that the Chiclets guys were staying at. Auston wasn't dressed extravagantly or anything, just wore a grey hoodie, black pants, and his signature Raiders snapback.
Y/N immediately recognized his outfit. She remembered Auston coming home in those same clothes early one afternoon after he did some running around downtown with Mia, and started thinking of how not once did he mention doing anything for the podcast. He kept this very on the down low, and Y/N was excited to see how it would all play out.
Biz: "Alright, with us today, we have none other than the Leafs number 34, Auston Matthews. Welcome back to the show, Auston. How ya doin?"
Auston: "I'm great. Thanks for having me. How are you guys?"
Whit and Rear: "Good."
Biz: "Great, real good. Now, Auston, you know what you're here to talk about, right?"
Auston: (chuckling) "You're acting like you didn't spend the last week blowing up my phone until I agreed to do this."
Biz: "Amazing! You do know. So, here's how it's all going to go down. We've got a list of questions about your relationship with your significant other. Your obvious better half. And are going to take turns asking them so the people listening at home can get a bit of insight on your, and I quote, iconic love story. Why don't you give us a little summary of your relationship before we dive in?"
Auston: (hesitantly) "Sure, okay. So, my wife Y/N and I have been married for almost two years now. Our anniversary is at the end of July. She accidentally forgot it last year, which I haven't let her live down. Y/N, babe, this is your six month in advance warning that our anniversary is indeed coming up again this year… She's going to hate that I mentioned that. We, uh, we've been together since my first season in Toronto, so for a pretty long time now, and it's been amazing. We have a daughter, Amelia, but everyone just calls her Mia unless she's in trouble. She just turned two on January 25th, and we have our second baby on the way. They're due to be making their grand appearance in late June. We also have our firstborn, Frank, the Goldendoodle. Can't forget about him. But, yeah, that's my little family."
Whit: (nodding along with Biz and Rear) "Fair enough. Now, how and when did you and Y/N meet exactly?"
Auston: "We met on the night of my first NHL game back in 2016. She was at that game."
Biz: "Oh, yeah? Was she there for a reason?"
Auston gave him an unimpressed look.
Biz: "What?"
Auston: "You know why she was there!"
Biz: (shrugging) "Our listeners don't. C'mon, refresh my memory. Was she there to cheer someone else on?"
Auston: (shaking his head) "Yeah. She, uh, she's a cousin of one of my teammates, so she was there with their family to watch him during our first game."
Biz: (grinning widely) "What teammate?"
Auston: "The one out in the hallway keeping my daughter occupied while you keep being annoying and asking me questions you already know the answer to."
Everyone laughed at that, including Y/N, as she shifted onto her side, being mindful of her growing bump that seemingly became more noticeable each day, and got comfortable as she braced herself for what the rest of this interview would entail.
Biz: (still laughing): "Just to clarify for everyone who still doesn't know, he's talking about Mitch Marner."
Auston: "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."
Rear: "I take it that Mitch and Mia get along really well? I haven't heard a peep from her since you came in here."
Auston: "Oh, she loves him. Yeah, that's her Mitchy, alright. Him and Steph, who you will hear all about once Mitch comes in here, are Mia's godparents and some of her favourite people."
Whit: "That's awesome. And how was that at first, though, being romantically involved with one of your teammates' family members? Sounds like grounds for some chaos, if I'm honest."
Auston: "It sure made meeting the family a bit more nerve-wracking. I'm just kidding. No, it was fine. It was definitely a little awkward at first trying to figure out how I was going to tell Mitch that I wanted to date his cousin. Like, he and Y/N are very close. Always have been. And the last thing both me and Y/N wanted was for Mitch to be uncomfortable. He did handle it really well, though. It's because of him I was even able to get to know her in the first place, which I'll never be able to thank him enough for."
Rear: "Now, you're a pretty private guy. You post the odd picture of your little family from time to time. Y/N is rather private, as well. So, really, no one knows your guys' story other than those who have lived it with you or watched it unfold. I'm sure many people will jump right on the chance to listen to this, seeing as you and Y/N are one of the most beloved couples in the NHL. But, what exactly made you want to come on here, give a bit of insight into your private life, and talk about it all?"
Auston: "Well, for one, Biz would not stop asking me to do it. Literally kept calling and texting me for days until I finally agreed."
Whit: "Shocker."
Biz: "Hey, now."
Auston: (chuckling) "That and also I figured, why not. I love my wife, and I love our little story. It's nice to think back on everything that's happened and see how it all got us to where we are now. With all the ups and the downs, its uh, it's been an amazing ride for sure, and I wouldn't change it for a thing. Also, it's for Valentine's Day. I haven't told her I'm doing this, so when you guys drop the episode, I'm just going to send it to her without much context."
Whit: "Do you think she'll cry?"
Auston: "Absolutely. I know this kind of thing would make her tear up regularly, but those pregnancy hormones have got her bad. Without a doubt, she's going to call me crying once she's done watching this."
Y/N scoffed as he said that and grabbed some tissues to wipe away the waterworks she already felt coming on.
Biz: "I've met Y/N many times now. The first time being back in what, 2018?"
The screen then showed an old picture of Biz sitting in a restaurant with his arm wrapped around Y/N's shoulders, both smiling widely as they held up their drinks, with Auston seemingly moping off to the side a little bit. Y/N chuckled at the image, instantly thinking back to the day she first met Paul Bissonnette and how wild it was before the photo faded away and showed the guys again.
Biz: "Yeah, it was when she was in Scottsdale visiting you during the summer. Great girl, completely out of Auston's league."
Auston: "Hey!"
Biz: "I'll never forget you sassing her when she commented on how hot Arizona was, with her being Canadian and all, but damn she was fast putting you in your place by calling you a, what was it?"
Auston: (grumbling) "Desert Boy."
Everyone burst out laughing again, except Auston, who just rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.
Auston: "Whatever. She sasses me all the time when I complain about the snow, but the one time I do it back, I get called a Desert Boy and can never live it down."
Biz: (still laughing) "Ugh, amazing. Okay, moving on because we don't have much time and can probably fit in like two more questions. So, Auston, tell us how you knew that Y/N was the end game for you. How did you know that she was the one?"
Auston: "Oh, man. I don't even know how to explain it. Growing up, you see all these movies and shows, or read books where people always find someone who is their soulmate. Their perfect match. And I never knew what the feeling of finding that person was because I had never experienced it. My mom would tell me that when I did find that person, I'd know. That it'll be such an intense feeling, and to be honest, I didn't believe her. Until I met Y/N, I know that sounds cheesy, but it's true. The first time I met her, something drew me in, and I knew I wanted to get to know her better right away. Mitch spoke so highly of her, so did the other guys on the team that had already met her and over the first couple of months of us knowing each other, I saw what they meant. She quickly became one of my best friends ever. When we started dating, I saw more of how good a person she is, which attracted me even more. She is so selfless and caring for everyone around her; it truly blows my mind. I had never seen my family welcome a girl I introduced them to as quickly as they did her, and I trust their judgment the most. But even if they didn't do that, I know they would have accepted her regardless because, honestly, I probably seemed like a lovesick idiot. I still do. Y/N became this significant light in my life that I knew I wanted to be there forever. I began thinking about what it'd be like spending the rest of my life with her. Then it became something that I knew I needed. I can't imagine my life without her, and I never want to. She makes me so happy and has given me more than I could ever thank her for. I'll never understand how I, of all people, was the one to capture her massive heart, but I do know how lucky I am."
As he spoke, the screen showed a little picture slideshow of Y/N and Auston over the years of their relationship. It started with one that Ema took the first time Y/N had ever gone to Scottsdale. Y/N was sitting on the edge of a pool, and her legs dipped into the water. Auston stood between them as he wrapped his arms around her middle and leaned against her while looking over at where Ema stood taking the picture. The next one was from a Christmas party where the two were under a mistletoe as Auston leaned Y/N back and was kissing her cheek as she laughed and held onto him for dear life. There was a picture of them with Auston's family, one of them with Mitch and Steph, and another of Auston with his arms around Nate and Mya, Y/N's younger brother and sister, as the three smiled at the camera and Y/N was in the background looking confused.
The last few pictures were a bit more recent. They showed Y/N holding Frank as a puppy, a maternity photo of her and Auston posing when she was pregnant with Mia, and one of them on their wedding day with Mia and the rest of the gang. Then, the slideshow concluded with a very recent picture of them taken just a couple of weeks prior at Mia's birthday party, where Auston has his arms wrapped around Y/N from the back, showcasing her growing belly. At the same time, she leaned against him and glanced over her shoulder at him lovingly. The photos then went away and showed the guys again as Auston finished speaking.
Auston was right. Y/N was full-on bawling by that point.
All the guys were smiling as Auston finished saying his thing, but were soon interrupted by a knocking noise followed by a door opening.
Mitch: (offscreen) "Wait, no! Don't let her in!"
Mia: (also offscreen) "Daddy!"
Mia then came into the frame as she ran towards Auston, not caring about what was going on or who was there. Auston was quick reacting as he smiled widely and scooped Mia right up into his arms, making sure to place multiple kisses on her cheek as she giggled and squirmed in his hold, while Mitch became visible too and shrugged.
Auston: "Hi, mini. I missed you. Did you have fun with Mitchy?"
Mia: "Yeah! Where's mommy, daddy?"
Auston: "She's at home, baby girl. I'm almost done, then we can go get a Timbit while we wait for Mitch to be done. Sounds good?"
Mia: (knuckling at her eyes, tiredly) "Mhmm."
Rear: "This is adorable."
Biz: "Hi, Mia."
Mia: (shyly while hiding against Auston's chest a bit) "Hi, Biz."
Whit: (laughing) "Okay, I think we've kept you long enough now, Auston. Is there anything else you and Mia would like to say to Y/N?"
Auston: "Yes. Happy Valentine's Day, babe. I love you so much, and I'm sorry I'm not there right now. You're going to hear a lot more from me on actual Valentine's Day, but for right now, I think that's just about it. Mia, can you blow a kiss to the camera so mommy can see it and say 'happy Love Day!'"
Mia: (blows the kiss) "Happy Love Day, mommy!"
Auston: "Can you tell her that you love her?"
Mia: "Love you!"
Auston and Mia then waved to the camera and said bye as the clip faded out, and a new interview of another NHLer began playing.
Y/N's heart felt so full. She couldn't stop crying over how much she loved her family and how badly she needed to hear something like that. Life had been particularly hard on her as of late and seemed to keep throwing her curveballs, but this, this was exactly what she needed. To be reminded of how loved she is and that she genuinely is never alone.
She then grabbed her phone to call Auston and remind him of how much she loved him, that day and every day. The two talked for a few minutes before Y/N was pretty sure she could hear Mia waking up. After saying their goodbyes, Y/N found herself thinking about how, regardless of how she feels about the actual day, this was a Valentine's Day she will never forget.
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missorgana · 3 years
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everything i do (gonna think of you)
pairing: finn/poe dameron
fandom: star wars (sequel trilogy
rating: teen and up
word count: 4690
warning: swearing, alcohol
summary: Finn and Poe are on a break. Neither of them are okay. But Finn hears Poe singing about him on the radio, and they'll be okay. Always. (musician poe, artist finn, long distance break-up + getting back together)
(it’s been ages but my space bfs, it’s good to be back!! a long overdue installment in my finnpoe alphabet series. did not expect e to be the most difficult letter to work with !!! thank you to Cat / @wendigostag​ as ALWAYS for beta reading and supporting my messy ideas 🥰 love uuuu. enjoy??)
read on ao3
“And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for, I’m sure!”
The audience erupts in a half-laughter, half-cheer, and the host smiles, looking a bit too tired for his age.
“Tonight’s special performance is by someone who has, quite frankly, taken the whole of America - and dare I say the world? - by storm!”
Previous cheers resurface, louder and more certain than before. Even a few wolf whistles, making the presenter laugh as well.
“Here to perform his new single ‘cardigan’ from the debut album ‘folklore’, Poe Dameron!”
Quite literally everyone in the studio goes crazy, and as the camera directs towards the stage, a light turns on and reveals the curly haired man in all his glory.
He smiles slyly to the audience. A few noises, bordering on the line of screaming, makes him chuckle, but he puts all his focus on the guitar. Snaps, strums, and as the piano starts accompanying him, a soft voice forming strange and unfamiliar words.
Finn wipes the tear away in frustration before it even gets a chance to move, just tiny droplets stinging his vision. He’s sniffling, and biting his cheek, staring at the already half-empty bottle of red wine on the table.
Never in his life has he ever felt more pathetic, that’s true.
He doesn’t know why he’s watching this. And judging by the two texts pinging in on his phone, his best friend Rey somehow knows he’s doing it, too.
His vision’s too blurry to type, he thinks. Fuck it, pour another glass of wine. Who cares?
On the screen, Poe smiles while singing each word. But Finn knows the man better than anyone in that studio to know that it’s not really a smile. It’s the kind that his boyfriend- ex-boyfriend put on at their last FaceTime call. The one where he suggested they took a break.
He figures he should turn off the television when the performance comes to an end. No need to rub anymore salt in the wound, as Rey said.
Yet Finn sticks around for the interview because… because what? He hates himself? He hates Poe?
Neither. Maybe he misses him. Of course he misses him, enough to fight back the sobs, far from sober. But he’ll fight that obvious realisation, as well.
“Thank you for coming in tonight!” the host tells the singer, who thanks him in turn for the opportunity. Always the golden boy. The image of polite, kind, heart full of love, yet so goddamn stubborn.
“Mothers love me.” Poe had told him, back in college, the smug idiot. Finn’s mother loves him.
It’s mostly questions about the album, the upcoming tour, pictures of his parents and his pearly whites gleam when he speaks of them, how proud they are of him. It envelops Finn like a warm embrace. Huh. They haven’t hugged in five months.
They haven’t seen each other in five months.
Then the host starts grinning like a maniac, and he’s got a hunch what’s coming now is what he’s been wanting to ask all along, “Evidently, you got a lot of ladies who love you here.”
Audience cheers. Poe runs a hand through his hair. He’s so nervous, it’s adorable.
“You got a special lady in your life?” a question that quiets the audience significantly, still, waiting.
The singer glances at his shoes like they’re the most fascinating thing in the universe. Finn can’t hold his glass still, because, yeah. He looks like he’s thinking about it too hard. He wants to save him from that situation.
And although it feels like a million years pass, it’s probably only ten seconds before the reply settles, “Not at the moment, no.”
The crowd is nothing less than thrilled. And not only women, as the host implied, nah, everyone in that studio recognizes what a heartthrob Poe Dameron is. Finn couldn’t agree more.
What he knows about his ex-boyfriend that the strangers in the TV don’t know is, obviously, that Poe’s not interested in the ladies.
So does his family and close friends, anyone out of show business, really.
He also knows why his ex-boyfriend isn’t out to the public about his sexuality, yet. Or he’s got an idea. Maybe. Finn convinces himself of that, because then, he can also convince himself that he’s not the only one still feeling he’s being torn to pieces by this breakup. Feels better.
*
Although the screen connecting to his boyfriend’s call tugs on his heartstrings with its familiar warmth, Finn is, above all, pissed.
And for some reason, he feels ashamed for that. He knows he shouldn’t.
Poe hasn’t been home in a month. He was supposed to be here two weeks ago, but due to press bookings, credit to his boyfriend’s brand new agent, he called Finn late at night apologising like a broken record and promising to make it up to him.
And it makes him feel like shit.
Every apology made him feel more guilty for… harboring his time. Which is crazy, because they’ve been going steady for three years. They talked about this, the possibility of long distance, and knew, definitely, that it was gonna be hard, especially since they’ve been attached by the hip for so long.
Thing is, this has happened three times now, and it’s made Finn question himself.
Is he good enough for Poe? then later, another thought creeps in, Is Poe tired of him? or… is he not in love with him anymore?
Finn feels like he’s going crazy.
And even when he sees his boyfriend’s soft curls and eyes full of sunshine pop on his phone, it’s those thoughts that still inhabit his head. Fuck.
“Baby!” Poe says, excitement gleaming right through him and into Finn’s bedroom. They’ve been talking about moving in together, but, well, with long distance, mostly only talk for now. He’s off chasing the fame, which he deserves more than anyone, thank you very much, and Finn’s already booked up with art galleries and auctions eagerly grasping for his paintings. It feels like they’ve made it.
Except, “Phasma’s got me on Jimmy Kimmel! Like, can you believe that?!” his boyfriend spills out everything from this week, and it warms Finn’s chest, his gut, all the way down to his toes. But at the same time, this being Poe’s first words to him stirs weirdly alongside that warmth.
His career’s important. Of course. Finn’s happy for him, like, over the moon, all the way across the solar system happy.
He wants him to be successful. So then… then why does it feel like Poe prioritises it over them? It’s probably him overthinking it, he reasons. Again.
Finn can definitely feel he’s supposed to be sleeping right now; that’s another thing, cursed with being in vastly different time zones. He listens, smiling half-tiredly, thoughts wandering to everything and nothing.
Which is why he finds himself, all of a sudden, replying to his boyfriend’s, “I, uh, I’m actually writing you another song. Don’t laugh, please,” with, “A secret kind of song? ”
It takes Poe by surprise, visibly, and it takes himself, as well.
Finn bites down on his tongue in the cringe of it all. His boyfriend’s blinking, slowly, probably waiting for some sort of elaboration, but when he has no idea what to say, Poe inquires, “What do you mean?”
He sighs. Wholeheartedly, wistfully, nostalgic.
Finn thinks about when Poe asked him out, driving up to his window in true cheesy romantic comedy style and having offered to write essays in exchange for a school marching band performance.
Their first date, eating cotton candy and the curly haired boy insisting on trying and failing to win Finn a prize, until finally facing defeat. He won Poe a prize instead, first try, so the previous grumpiness faded in a matter of seconds. The butterflies threatened to burst his stomach the entire day.
Their first time, clumsy and awkward, teeth clanging in kisses and stupid buttons in Finn’s shirt being stuck and they laughed until they were out of breath. It was more perfect than anything either of them could’ve imagined.
He thinks about this, because neither of them were out before they got together.
This coming out thing? It scared the shit out of Finn. He was so lucky to have a supportive family, supportive friends. The school was a mixed experience, but he and Poe were in it together. His boyfriend tried to play it cool, but he knew how scared he was, too. He knows like the back of his hand, almost.
And this concern, it makes him feel so guilty he might vomit.
“I just… I was just wondering if you wanted to be official.”
“We are official, Finn.”
“No, I-I mean, public.”
He gulps around the growing lump in his throat. Poe goes scarily quiet.
This is also something they’ve talked about before. Fame is so new, it’s a whole new leap, learning how to handle all this, so it didn’t bother either of them to be secretive about their relationship, so to speak.
Their close network still knew, obviously, but the music industry, Hollywood, that’s way, way different than Finn’s newly established and growing network of artist connections and colleagues.
It wasn’t a problem. Until it was.
Coming out is personal. But ever since his boyfriend said he wanted to go public, then didn’t, as they were both on edge, then decided they should move in together and go public to slam down journalists linking Poe to a member of a girl group he met last summer, then didn’t.
It’s happened a couple of times. And finally, it seems, Finn is coming to terms with being tired of being ready and then backing out.
He’s terrified. Terrified of Poe being embarrassed of him, which he knows sounds crazy, also. But fuck.
“Baby, we’re gonna do it,” his boyfriend reassures him, but he’s distraught now, “You know we are. My agent just talks about my image, you know, I need to make sure-”
“Your image?”
That… that pisses Finn off. Conclusively. Because what the fuck?
“Phasma thinks we should do it at Christmas, season of love, you know?” Poe smiles shyly, he always loved the holidays. And he just doesn’t know how to react. “She’s fine with it, like, she didn’t ask me to fake being straight, like the guy I talked with before. Just-
“Are you embarrassed of me, Poe?” he finds the words slipping out before he can stop his mouth.
His boyfriend’s eyes widen significantly on the small screen, opens and closes his mouth several times, and there’s definitely a yell from somewhere in the studio, but Poe ignores it completely, “Of course not. Finn, I’m the luckiest guy in the world because of you. I just really… really think we need to time this right.”
“I,” Finn starts, but he’s barely sure where he’s going with the sentence. All he knows is that he’s scared Poe might tell him that all this time meant nothing to him. He doesn’t know why he leaps to that, but he does. His boyfriend might find something better than him in the limelight, “I know. You’ve told me, and I get it, I do. It’s just difficult being so far away from you, and then…”
He feels himself drifting off into a cloud of numbness and nothing, but Poe interrupts the sentence, “I thought you’d be more supportive of my career.” Finn nearly jumps. The words don’t sound cold, per say. But it’s weird. The good old butterflies flutter hesitantly, sort of in question.
“I am, darling, I-” he sighs again, “I’ve always been. You’ve just seemed like you’re ready, and I got the feeling that your agent didn’t want you to, and-” “Phasma wants it.”
“But on Christmas, Poe. This Christmas. I’m just scared you’re…” Finn shakes his head at himself, decides to be completely honest, because that’s how relationships work. Right? “Waiting for the moment to end this.”
“End this?” his boyfriend’s voice raises just an octave, looking perpetually confused. He also, admittedly, looks pissed. Hurt. “Do you want to break up with me?”
“No! Why would I-
“You’re the one who brought it up.”
Finn rubs his eyes, feels like they’re on goddamn fire. Poe’s biting his lips, rummaging around after moving what he assumes is a more private room than before, and avoiding eye contact. They shouldn’t be doing this on the phone. They shouldn’t be doing this at all.
He wishes his boyfriend was next to him, so he could curl up on his chest and sleep the entire weekend. It’s all he wants.
Ultimately, Finn makes the suggestion, “Baby, I’m sorry, I just… why don’t I call you next time you’re free? Or can you… are you getting back anytime soon?”
He doesn’t know how to describe this feeling, what’s happening, in any other way than it seems like Poe’s on a different planet than him, drifting in a meteor rain.
What Finn doesn’t expect least of all is his boyfriend’s answer, “Nah, you know, if you feel like that, we should take a break. A breather.”
And Poe smiles, but he sees through that bullshit. It doesn’t reach his eyes.
He’s trying to play it cool. Fuck. Why are Finn’s eyes stinging, now?
“A break?”
“Yeah.”
That’s so much to process. Fucking process it. The protests are bubbling under his skin, boiling and ice cold at the same time, but he doesn’t get the time when the yells on the end of the world resume.
“I really should go.” Poe tells him, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to.
“Poe…” he tries to breathe around the butterflies currently panicking inside of him. He’d scream at them to stop for just five seconds, if he could. His boyfriend’s already getting up from the seat, which is why Finn pinches the bridge of his nose and tries not to look at him, “Okay. Okay.”
The silence that settles between them, then, until they end the call in confusion and boiled up emotion, is far from the comfort they’ve been accustomed to. It ends without a goodbye. Without an I love you.
So, naturally, he gets absolutely zero sleep that night.
*
Whenever Rey told them they were being overdramatic, she was probably right. This is no exception.
Ever since the damnation of their FaceTime call, Finn tried to get into his head what went down. Namely, him and his boyfriend speaking over each other’s heads. It settles in the morning, the realisation that Poe assumed the worst of what he said, while he himself didn’t understand why he couldn’t come home . Just one day. Just to talk this out.
But in a recognizable stubborn fashion, his boyfriend ignored his calls and texts for the weekend. Finn tried so, so hard not to get pissed again. But also, Poe actively avoiding him made him want to cry. Not being able to just hear his voice made him want to cry.
Naturally, the following week, when his boyfriend decided to reach out, Finn became the one to ignore all forms of contact. It felt like they were walking in circles.
This is new and raw territory.
Finn and Poe don’t fight. It’s a basic law of the universe. 
Which is why he doesn’t blame Rey for widening her eyes in shock at this new development. He also knows that she wants to intervene, badly so, given how protective she is of them, but because she’s lovely she always somehow knows when Finn needs his own space to think. Or scream into the void a little bit, whatever does the trick.
He’s pretty sure she didn’t expect this to go on for four months, now. He sure as hell didn’t expect it.
But… they’re both to blame. Finn’s pretty much dug himself a hole in the ground filling up with all his feelings, and as every week passes by, waits for his boyfriend to make the first move. He expects Poe to do the same. Nothing’s moving forward.
So, if Rey didn’t know him as she did, she’d ask him why.
Why don’t you just call him? He could. When his boyfriend stopped ignoring him, that is. Thing is, Finn’s world is sort of crumbling right now, and a confrontation with that isn’t something he can handle, he thinks.
It’s the thought of losing Poe for good. It’s the thought of Poe thinking Finn doesn’t want him anymore, when in fact he fears the exact opposite.
After watching that interview, though, he could breathe a little easier, he’ll admit.
And it’s weird. He felt inherently about a hundred times worse during it. The day after, he just kept thinking about Poe and his stupid curls and his nervous smile and what he might be doing while Finn was helping his sister with the dishes.
Maybe it’s knowing his boyfriend- ex-boyfriend (?) is okay. Does look more okay than himself.
It calms him. The next day, it makes Finn want to burn up all their polaroids and mail the ashes to the singers’ hotel in a massive envelope. As said before, this hole is deep, too deep, making it difficult to be rational.
A week after the interview, he’s just about on the edge to complete numbness.
Maybe he’s been reading those hilarious dumb gossip magazines whenever his boyfriend was on the cover. Shut up. If he acknowledges the ridiculousness of that, it’ll only make it worse.
Finn feels weak for being this torn up after a breakup… or break. He’s had breakups before Poe, but none of them hurt like this. Does it ever just fucking stop?
Apparently not, because when he picks up the phone with Rey’s name flashing, Finn expects it to be another question of what’s going on. How he’s doing, or not even a question, but an order to let her in as she’s probably already standing in front of his building carrying ice cream and bad horror movies.
He doesn’t get why she doesn’t just use the key he got her already, but it’s still endearing. Except, “Turn on the radio.”
“What?
“Finn, turn on your radio. Trust me.”
And so he scrambles around, the determination in her voice definitely not something to mess around with. Finn eventually uncovers it underneath the mountain of Poe’s vinyl records, and while his best friend doesn’t even tell him what station she’s referring to, he’s got a feeling about it. Also, it’s the first station that pops through the speakers when he turns it on, so.
Then, he has absolutely no idea what to listen for. The hosts are making some jokes about the song they’re gonna play next, thereozing about a “lost love” , and Finn’s about to ask until he realises Rey’s hung up on him, and a text.
just wait. u won’t regret it.
It’s too ominous for his best friend’s usual shenanigans. He’s a little worried.
But unlike the last hellish, unbelievable four months, Finn doesn’t have much time to worry, before the voices announce, “We present an exclusive live performance from our new favorite heartthrob, Poe Dameron!”
Oh God. Oh God, oh shit, oh my god.
Naturally, Finn’s anxiety kicks in like a punch in his gut.
In fact, he’s about to pull up his best friend’s contact again, sick of hearing the single that Poe wrote for him and not even being able to revel in the feeling anymore. Only it’s not ‘cardigan’.
Four months ago, a few days before they decided to take a break, his boyfriend sent him a couple of voice notes, containing lyrics and guitar pieces and other bits for the album he wanted Finn’s approval on. He always wanted his opinion first. It makes him all warm again.
This song, however, is brand new, unheard to everyone’s ears. Including Finn.
  “I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit
Been saying "yes" instead of "no"
I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn't though
I hit the ground running each night
I hit the Sunday matinée
You know the greatest films of all time were never made”
  The melody has the same calm like the other songs he’s heard, an image of fairytales and bare feet dancing in the woods and stars twinkling in the night.
The melancholy is unfamiliar, though.
  “I guess you never know, never know
And if you wanted me, you really should've showed
And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow
And it's alright now”
  Finn’s thumb hovers over Rey’s contact name, but he can’t bring himself to move.
It’s the alright part. Except, despite how much he tries to lie to himself, he swears to everything god that his boyfriend’s voice breaks over the word. It’s subtle enough that the interviewers could pass it on as him being hoarse, he reasons, but Poe can’t fool him.
He wants him to be okay. Actually, no, because being okay means not missing Finn like Finn misses him, and that would hurt more than anything he can imagine. But also, he’s too far away for a reassuring hand. That’s why he wants him to be okay.
  “But we were something, don't you think so?
Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool
And if my wishes came true
It would've been you”
  For some reason, it’s only then it settles into Finn’s mind.
Oh.
Oh.
The song keeps going, and his emotions keep going, from the chaotic jumbled mess he’s become accustomed to a quiet buzz. He feels like his breathing’s slowed down, and a pocket in his heart is being emptied onto the floor.
Poe feels exactly the same way, he imagines. He has to.
Finn’s abandoned his phone somewhere unknown between the couch cushions, and he’s stuck staring at the empty wine bottle he hasn’t had the energy to get rid of, his microwave dinner half eaten, until his ex-boyfriend’s song comes to an end.
‘the 1’ is the title. He doesn’t know if he’s crying or not, which sounds a bit dumb in his own head.
“Poe Dameron!” one of the interviewers yells obnoxiously, clearly trying to hold in their excited giggling, “Those were quite emotional lyrics. I’m guessing there’s a story there somewhere?”
Finn could roll his eyes into the next century at that comment. Jesus Christ.
The singer’s complained about these kinds of people before, of course, he chuckles, politely, hesitantly, probably spinning the best way to avoid opening that door of vulnerability on open air, “I think everyone writes from their own experience, really.”
His voice has the same elegance and softness and gruff that makes Finn think of home, despite the tinny speakers and distraction that vibes off of him, all the way over in the states. It’s unbelievable.
The interview keeps going in the most standard way possible, a couple more questions Poe subtly circles around (including about dating, obviously), some jokes, and they eventually get to that segment where the listeners can call in and ask their own question to the dreamy man.
Some are boring, some are weird, some are intrusive, some are just teen voices in awe of his relatability and what not, mountains of flattery which his boyfriend is all too shy and starstruck to handle.
Finn bites his lip.
They repeat the number of the radio twice. The programme ends at nine. That means about forty five minutes of fan questions.
He shouldn’t. This is ridiculous. But what if… what?
Poe’s voice somehow carries his hand to fish the phone up again, though, like a strike of magic. And then the tone sounds, one, two, three, and it’s too late to take it back now. Shit.
“You’re live! Can our next lucky listener introduce yourself and your question?”
He tries so hard, desperately so, to swallow around the lump in his throat, seeming impossibly massive. The eerie silence is simply too painful to bear, though, so Finn squeezes his eyes shut hard for two seconds, before forcing the reply out.
“Yes, uh, hi. This is Finn Solo. From Pennsylvania.”
A beat. “Pennsylvania?! Well, honey, that’s actually Poe Dameron’s home state, isn’t it?”
Two beats. The singer clears his throat. “Yeah.” Clearly, he recognizes his voice in an instant. Well, obviously, he’d be shocked if he didn’t. Still, Finn feels like curling up in a ball and hiding from the world. He wonders if Rey’s listening, right now.
The interviewer seems unfazed from Poe’s hesitated answer, or they just choose to ignore it, he supposes. “The floor is yours, Finn. Ask ahead!”
So… how is he supposed to do this, again? 
This is the worst idea Finn’s had in his entire life. Seriously. And he accepted Rey’s dare to swing all the way up and around the swingset in fifth grade, he’s well aware of what reckless looks like. This is it.
Still, he’s stuck now. Poe’s listening to him. Kind of forced to.
And against his own better judgement, Finn silences the million overthinking thoughts in his inner ear by simply saying whatever hits him first, “Did you mean what you said? In the song?”
Seconds feel like fucking hours right now.
“Sorry, can you-” one of the hosts start, but he feels moved to continue. “When did you write it?”
It’s low, the feedback of his boyfriend’s microphone can just be made out. He prays that was only comprehensible enough for Poe’s own ears, because Finn could never possibly live with himself if he outed the person he loves most in the world. Seems so, given the interviewer once again asks the singer in confusion.
“What do you say, Poe? Do you need, uh… for him to elaborate?”
“No.” the man says simply, shyness seemingly having faded away in a glimpse. “Finn, I wrote this back in May.”
Four months ago. Same month as their FaceTime call.
“Only a week after our call. Took me five hours. I needed to get every word just right.” Poe says those words so steadily it shocks Finn. His hand feels numb and itchy around the tiny device, and one of the hosts gasps.
“I-” he starts, but has no idea where to go, where to turn. Finn didn’t expect any of this tonight. A deep breath is needed, “Do you mean… you wrote it about me?”
He feels like an absolute idiot for asking, even doubting it, but given the emotional rollercoaster he’s been through up until now, he’s grasping for straws of confirmation. Poe chuckles, barely audible.
“All my songs are about you, darling.”
What the fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Another gasp is heard in the studio, a little louder this time, but he sends a silent thanks, still, to them being too taken aback to intervene.
Okay, these are definitely tears in Finn’s eyes, now.
One rolls down, cool against his hot cheek, and he almost wants to laugh widely, processing what’s happening over and over in his brain.
What’s mostly replaying is the nickname that he’s missed… too much.
If they were in the same room, in front of each other, alone , he could say and ask a million things. This conversation is impossibly too vulnerable for open air, but Finn really thinks, really, that this step was needed. At least, it’s something he’s been longing to hear.
Instead of breaking down in the happiness and sadness he’s feeling, instead of talking about the miscommunication they’ve been the victim of, he smiles. Can’t stop. It’s hurting his whole face, actually, but his chest feels endlessly lighter.
“If… uh,” Finn chuckles at himself again, him and his stupid emotions, probably laced obviously in his voice, “Is there a chance that you still want to write songs about me?”
Poe laughs back, warmer and wobblier than before. “Of course. Of-fucking-course. There’s no one else I’d rather write about.”
Those hosts over there are probably freaking out big time, but Finn can’t bring himself to care much.
They sigh rather in unison. Him and his boyfriend. Breathing shaky and yet steadying themselves, almost. Together.
“Okay. Okay. Thank fuck,” he finds himself sniffling, “Okay.”
“They’ll always be about you.”
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beholdme · 3 years
Text
All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 18
Chapters: 18/19
Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist
Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.
Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.
He happens to love them back.
Find it on Ao3
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17]
They cook, they feed him, they chat away about inane things. Their presence soothes Martin and their voices fill him with the warmth sucked away by his unexpected encounter.
Gerry helps him make tea after dinner, and they all sit at the table together, even the cats sleeping nearby, cuddled up into one big, grey and black fluff ball.
"I think," Martin begins, voice croaky, "That I would like to tell you now."
"We're ready to listen if you're ready to tell us." Jon offers softly. Gerry reaches over to take one of his hands, turning it over to kiss the palm sweetly.
Martin talks, voice quiet and even.
"In the beginning, it was just a normal relationship. Except for the fact that he was almost twenty years older than me, and about a million times richer. I didn't know that at first, of course. He was just a middle-aged man I met in a gay bar, who didn't seem to mind that I was trans. I felt secure in our relationship, if not exactly nurtured or adored. I had never felt very secure before, and it seemed like enough, you know?
"He took me out, brought me a few things in the beginning. He was very dominant, sexually, but I was a lot less sure of my own preferences back then and I thought it was fine. He never even blinked at my trashy flat or cheap clothes, and I didn't even realise just how much money he had for a long time. Maybe I just can't really comprehend that much money, even now.
"When I was twenty-two, my mother died, and…" He huffs out a shaky, emotional laugh. "Well, I was a real mess. I lost my job, and almost my flat. Peter started paying for things, my rent, clothes, meals. He said that I needed somewhere to live and had to eat and look presentable, and it was his pleasure to provide those things for me. It made me feel a bit gross, but I struggled to find another job, and so I accepted it."
Martin hesitates here, before continuing. "The problem started when I wasn't interested in sex one night."
"He forced you?" Gerry interrupts to ask dangerously, threat explicit in his quiet words. His eyes seem to glow faintly in the growing dark of the room, as the sun sets. He wishes, more than ever, that he had helped Jon kick the shit out of Peter Lukas, instead of stopping him.
Martin sighs, eyes pressed tight closed for a second. "Not exactly. He simply pointed out that he paid for me to exist. So I made myself interested."
Gerry's hands tighten into fists and he moves them under the table where Martin can't see them anymore. Jon suddenly looks very pale. They share a look, neither able to see much difference between 'forcing' and what sounds a lot like financial abuse to them.
Martin pulls his legs up to his chest, curling around them as he goes on. "Our relationship became a lot more transactional after that night. I disengaged whatever feelings I had left for him and simply drew all my emotions down deep into myself. I wasn't ashamed to be getting paid for sex, but I felt like I had lost my own consent in the matter. Peter honestly seemed like he had gotten exactly what he wanted. Money was nothing to him, and he had someone to take out on his arm or shag whenever he wanted, without the work of a real relationship, or the complications of unfortunate attachments.
"So, if I needed something, I told him. He set a date, took me out, fucked me. He gave me however much I needed."
Martin shrugs, looking down at his hands. "I honestly hated it. Not because of the prostitution itself, sex has always been very nurturing for me, and I sometimes caught the idea that it was only another way to care for people, and being paid for that is perfectly fine, if you're doing it for the right reasons. The real issue was Peter himself. He had this way of making me feel… bereft and hollow, even before the money came into it."
A few tears track down his face, although his face remains rather blank, in a numb way. It's only as he admits the next words that his voice breaks and the heartbreak works its way out again.
"I was very foolish. Looking back, I can see that I was still a child in a lot of ways. I put myself into a situation that damaged me, but I accept the consequences of those actions, both then and now. I- I-"
"Martin," Jon whispers, warm love clear in his voice. It's nothing but an offer of support, one that he desperately needs right now.
He presses his eyes shut, forcing away the stutter and the lump of tears. "I knew I wasn't going to be able to get out of it, even if I got a crap, minimum wage job that I was qualified for. So I started applying for any work that was available. I made every application exactly what they wanted, and I hoped for the best. When Elias offered me the job at Magnus, I took it happily. Since then I found out that Peter knows him, and probably arranged the job for me, but at the time I had no idea. Looking back, I know that it's a miracle that I got out of it at all. Peter could have chosen to make my life a living hell. Instead, he accepted the several firm rejections I offered him.
"He promised me that we weren't done, that I would be back, but he left me alone. I was done. I moved on with my life, even if I had to lie to do it." Martin sighs, shakes out his shoulders, the most difficult part over now.
"I had always planned to be open about it with my next relationships, but they were so fleeting that it never even came up. By the time I fell for Jon, it had become a secret, one I was loathed to dig up for a relationship I was convinced wouldn't last. I thought to myself, 'Why ruin something that makes me happy?' I assumed it would fall apart anyway, and it was easier to allow it to be in the past.
"But I am sorry. I'm sorry that I never told you. I'm sorry you had to find out from him. I'm sorry that we've been together for more than a year and we basically live together, and I've put you in this position. I love you both, very very much."
"When did you eventually decide that our relationship was going to last?" Jon queries, genuine curiosity in his voice.
There's a beat of hazy silence at the abrupt change in tone and topic.
"Oh, ah-" Martin stumbles over his words, unsure how blatantly honest to be. He chooses the real truth, no matter how unfortunate. "The day that I got Luna was the first time I really accepted that you both loved me."
Jon simply raises an eyebrow, completely unconcerned. "What about you, Gerry?"
"With you," Gerry responds easily, "at the hospital in Morden, when I was so panicked that I couldn't decide if I wanted to kill you or handcuff us together for the rest of our lives. With Martin-"
He breaks off with a laugh, colouring slightly. "It was the day we dyed my hair purple."
"The first time we had sex?" Martin asks, surprised at such a hedonistic answer.
He laughs again, more confidently this time. "No, actually, although that was spectacular. It was afterwards, when you braided my hair for the first time. That was the first time anyone had ever braided my hair. It made me feel so… So honoured. Like I was the most precious thing to you."
"Gerry, you are the most precious thing to me. You both are." Martin whispers, tears creeping back into his voice.
"Good, because the feeling is mutual, and we desperately need you around to keep us in line," Jon tells him, voice unusually firm and confident.
"What about you?" Martin remembers to ask him, at risk of floating away in his post confession haze. "When did you know?"
"With Gerry, it was when we were teenagers. I kissed him for the first time, and he laughed at me. I just knew he was my soulmate." Jon rolls his eyes at this, but his voice is full of blatant affection. "With you, Martin, it was- Well, to be quite honest with you, there was no one special moment. It was a million tiny moments, all of them special and perfect to me. Every cup of tea, every frown while you were writing poetry, glasses pushed haphazardly up into your lovely hair. The easy, glorious look on your face the day you met Gerry for the first time, as if you weren't even capable of not falling in love with him, just as I hadn't been. It was especially the days that I would come out of the library and find you waiting for me after work. This weight of total surety would fill my chest and leave me gasping, needing you."
Jon sighs, his own eyes a little bright. "I suppose it was really the night you kissed me in the rain, and every soft moment since then has only affirmed the way I knew you were it for me."
Jon smiles at Martin so beatifically that he forgets to breathe for a moment.
"We love you too, Martin," Gerry tells him, reaching out to grasp a hand. Jon takes the other. "And we wouldn't want you any other way."
***
The next morning, Martin wakes to find Jon eyeing his phone intently. Gerry is asleep on his other side, and he feels warmly cocooned between them. Gentle cloudy light fills the space, encouraging the comfortable cozy atmosphere of their bed.
"What's wrong, love?" Martin asks sleepily, snuggling into his side.
"I got-" Jon pauses, utterly flummoxed. "I got paid a bonus."
"What?" Equally perplexed, Martin takes his phone, squinting as he tries to read the screen.
The banking app is open, and there is indeed a deposit there, Jon's normal salary amount, but on completely the wrong date.
In the purpose box, it simply reads 'Entertainment Value'.
"You don't think," Jon starts, hesitant, "that Elias paid me…"
"For hitting Peter Lukas?" Martin finishes, "His own husband."
They blink at each other, bewildered.
"Does that seem… slightly cursed, to you?" Jon whispers as if Elias might hear him. Even worse if Elias could hear them, and would probably enjoy being accused of having a cursed relationship.
"Yes, completely cursed. What is up with those two?" Martin looks as if he's smelled something bad.
"We absolutely cannot spend this money, right?" Jon asks. "Lest we are cursed with their relationship dysfunction."
"Correct," Martin responds firmly, shuddering. "Can we donate it to the animal shelter?"
"I think that's a wonderful idea." Jon's relief at this resolution is palpable.
He does it straight away, as if even having the money in his bank account might ruin their lives.
They let out a simultaneous sigh as the transfer goes through.
"That is wild," Martin mutters as he snuggles back down.
Jon tosses his phone away, no longer interested in it. Instead, he wraps his arms around Martin, burying his nose in his lover's hair. It smells of bergamot and tea leaves and the ocean in winter, just like Martin himself, and Jon luxuriates in the moment.
"I love you, Martin K. Blackwood." He whispers into the soft air.
"Even if I don't actually have a middle name?" Martin whispers back.
"Especially because of that." Jon chuckles.
They lay together, the gentle moments of the morning flowing around them. Later, they get up and shower together. They drink tea in front of the big windows in the living space. Martin reads a book from Gerry's shelves, his own books still packed, and Jon wanders off to play his piano where it is randomly set up, right in the middle of Gerry's typical painting area.
Gerry himself appears downstairs, still sleepy and bleary-eyed. He curls up with his head in Martin's lap, listening to Jon fill the flat with gentle music.
It's the soft sort of moment that each of them had been wishing for all their lives, full of love, and family, and a home of their very own.
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melonsmessymusings · 3 years
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How come Giles never got arrested and charged with Jenny's murder? Like surely the Police would take one look at the situation and conclude he killed her. Yes, there might not be lots of literal evidence but who else is it going to be? Giles is more than capable of breaking someone's neck, he's killed before, history of violence, he's the boyfriend and they always say it's someone close to the victim. I'm just confused how he escaped a prison sentence, any ideas?
Bloody hell Anon, really? There's a few ways of answering this but wither way, it’s a long one. Oh and here's the disclaimer that although I’m genuinely a qualified Legal Professional in the outside world and it is my day job, that's for English Law not American, plus I specialise in Civil not Criminal Law...which is different. Anyway, here’s why Giles didn’t get arrested and charged with Jenny’s murder:
Insufficient evidence.
That's what it boils down to. You can't go charging people with murder all willy nilly without a shred of proof. And you can't be detained by the Police without a charge brought against you (very simplified).
We've all watched how Police Investigations go on TV. CCTV, pathology and forensics would eliminate Giles as a suspect. It was 1998, not the Cretaceous Period, it’s not difficult to confirm his whereabouts. Even the most useless Police Department in the world would figure out pretty quickly that Giles had nothing to do with it. They probably kept him for three hours, tops.
They could potentially detain him for is obstructing a murder enquiry. And if he said he had no idea who could've done it, they're likely to believe him. Especially given the almost catatonic state he was in when talking to that officer at his flat. If they thought he knew more than he’s saying (possible, though unlikely), then perhaps they'd press further. Due to his clear emotional distress and being forensically eliminated as a suspect, they'd maybe just give him a ‘friendly’ reminder to call them if he remembers anything. Tbh given the amount of mysterious murders in Sunnydale, they'd not be hurried in finding the killer. Obviously, like I said, it'd likely be a tad more complicated but I'm not well versed in American Police procedures, so idk for sure.
So I’m going to teach you about how the English Legal System would approach this, in super-basic terms. While it is different to America, most of the principles are the same/similar, and illustrating exactly why Giles couldn’t be charged will probably help. I’ll even chuck in a few case citations/examples for good measure. 
Murder is the most serious Unlawful Homicide Offence, a Common Law Offence. This means that it isn’t contained within an Act of Parliament, so there are no explicitly set directives to follow. However, in the 17th Century, Sir Edward Coke (fancy, influential English dude) defined it, and this definition is still widely used today. It says that murder is the “unlawful killing of a reasonable creature in being, and under the Queen’s Peace, with malice aforethought, express or implied”.
In order for a charge to be brought against someone, the Crown Prosecution Service (the equivalent is the U.S. Attorney’s Office) have a checklist of criteria that needs to be met. If one of these isn’t, there may be insufficient grounds for a charge brought against the defendant to be successful in Court. Also, the burden of proof is on the Prosecution, they need to have a watertight case to secure a conviction “beyond reasonable doubt” in Court. It can get quite confusing but essentially, it’s innocent until the Prosecution proves otherwise.
There’s two key components of a crime: Actus Reus and Mens Rea. Guilty Act and Guilty Mind. We just use the Latin to sound pompous and confusing because we’re English and apparently it’s necessary. Without one, you can’t have the other.
The Actus Reus of murder is “unlawful killing of a reasonable creature in being and under the Queen’s Peace”. It’s split into 4 parts:
Jenny’s death must be unlawful, which it was because it wasn’t a justified killing (Clarke and Morabrir), e.g. meaning not in self-defence. 
Causation, but it’s easier to hang fire on that for now. 
Was Jenny a ‘reasonable creature in being’? Yes, according to the criteria established in Attorney General’s Ref No.3 1991 and Malcherek and Steel (she’s not an unborn baby, nor braindead). 
Did she die under the ‘Queen’s Peace’? Yes, because it didn’t happen in a war-time situation. 
If all parts are ‘satisfied’ then the defendant will be found to have an Actus Reus and we move onto the Mens Rea.
Establishing a Chain of Causation then. This is where it gets a bit more complicated. The defendant (Giles) must have both Factual and Legal Causation for Jenny’s death. For factual, we use the ‘but for’ test. Would Jenny have died ‘but for’ the defendant's actions? (R v White (1910)). For Legal, we must ask if the defendant’s actions were the “operating and substantial cause” of death/injury (Malcherek and Steel). The defendant’s conduct must “contribute significantly” to Jenny’s death (Benge). Giles has neither of these, so there is no chain of causation, therefore the second part of the Actus Reus cannot be satisfied and thus, the Prosecution cannot proceed. 
You could then discuss New Intervening Acts (we also use Latin for this bit but I cba) to see if anything else happened that could’ve broken the chain of causation, for instance gross misconduct of a medical professional. Seeing as Giles has no causation for Jenny’s death based on the evidence that the Police will have gathered (not from what we as an audience already know), he can’t be charged. They may suspect he had something to do with it, but in all genuine honesty, I doubt it and they couldn’t prove it in Court anyway. 
So they can’t do him for murder. They could try to get him for manslaughter (accidental death), in this case either Gross Negligent Manslaughter or Voluntary Manslaughter, but again, there’s insufficient evidence and it wouldn’t be pursued by prosecutors. Other than that, unless Angelus planted evidence to frame Giles, our Watcher remains a free man. 
So let’s look at the ‘evidence’ then. Giles is a big guy. 6ft1, relatively strong (he’d have to be to train Buffy), much bigger than Jenny and he’s the boyfriend. The scene where the body was found appeared to be that of a romantic evening between the happy couple. Giles could’ve lost his temper and resorted to violence, lashing out and killing her. Any investigator taking one look at the tweed clad, stammering Librarian (who called to report the crime himself) would figure that he isn’t a likely suspect. 
Pathology would prove that Jenny’s time of death was before Giles came home, likely by over an hour. CCTV from the school car park would show Giles leaving at least 30 minutes prior. His car registration/model would be picked up on various cameras in Sunnydale on his way home/wherever he went. They’d find Jenny’s classroom and forensics would show DNA from another individual that matches prints on the body (Angelus) but obviously that wouldn’t be in the system, so it’d likely be a cold case with the killer having never being found. There is no evidence. 
Also, Giles can have ‘violent tendencies’, but arguably only in times of distress. The Police wouldn’t think this unless they looked at his medical record. Even if they did, so what? Sunnydale is full of weird shit and the school librarian apparently gets bi-weekly concussions, big deal? Maybe he just gets hit on the head by falling books? The Council also likely purged any criminal record Giles obtained during his ‘Ripper rebellion’ so there would be nothing on the system to indicate he has violent tendencies, nor that he has killed before. 
My initial reaction was to scream “BECAUSE HE DIDN’T BLOODY KILL HER!” from the rooftops but that wouldn’t have been helpful... Hopefully this wasn’t too confusing though... :)
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spacedikut · 4 years
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An Essay on the Cosy Cafe
it's here folks!! (i don't know if it's folks but i hope at least spacey will enjoy this) I think this is kinda short because I'm running on like 3.5 hours of sleep but hey <3
OKAY FULL DISCLAIMER WHEN I READ YOUR WARNING ABOUT "drying spencer's genitals" or whatever my EYES were so big (but it also made be very excited to read because that's so funny)
i want to say overall this is a really cute fic because it's so human. like it's not perfect in how they meet or interact- it's full of awkward moments and chaos and accidents and humiliation and that's rea life for you :)
Okay first we have the part of the "special syrup" for Spencer because this boy is literally 90% sugar in his body weight and he rivals the sweet tooth of most children
I love that spencer has a fanclub of baristas (because why wouldn't he, he's polite and easy on the eyes) and obviously he tips well because he's a good person. 
Both reader and Spencer pretty much having no brain cells when a pretty person shows up? adorable. they're made for each other already
Reader's narration of "It’s not the cute nose or the messy hair or the sweater vest – no. It’s his childlike curiosity."  f a l s e, reader. you and i both know it's all of these things combined and more. and the detail about the satchel?! definitely true. there's something that stands out about someone who just waits in the queue patiently without wanting to pass the time with something else.
And then!!!! Reader and Spencer finally interact and it's Spencer's turn to be blindsided by your beauty AND THEN SPENCER'S CONCLUSION THAT THE COFFEE IS GOOD BECAUSE YOUR VOICE IS PRETTY?!!! what a romantic, *swoon*. 
and the line "the barista made him dumb by simply existing" makes me laugh so hard i'm not sure why- it's just so dorky and cute and Spencer.
poor reader when she spills/drops the drinks :( and poor spencer for probably getting really minor burns.  i think you did a really good job (i know, good is a pretty bad adjective to use) describing all the humiliation and panic the reader goes through- with the pounding in your ears and being unable to hear anything else, not really being able to feel anything because of all the adrenaline, and constant stinging of tears. it's a perfect representation of pure horror.
i think it's pretty hilarious how the reader ducks under the counter and than GRABS AUTUMN'S ANKLE when Spencer mentions her. the rock climbing? brilliant. 
the little part with all the parentheses is really sweet and the reader is so terrified of spencer and he's just trying to be nice but she's still so mortified. 
okay i knew as SOON as spencer asked what time they were going to get back, it was because of the cafe and then derek would obviously comment on it, the smug guy he is. the fact spencer thinks he's so sneaky when almost every member of the BAU knows about his cafe frequenting is just so... it's so BAU to do that. and so spencer to think he's secretive. 
"Derek’s barely finished his sentence before Spencer’s head whips around to stare at him, so quick his hair flies from behind his ears. It sends Derek into a chuckle that sounds like nails on a chalkboard to Spencer – he’s never been a good liar, or good at hiding his emotions, really, and now he might as well be holding a sign that says, I have a crush on a barista" THIS WHOLE PARAGRAPH!!!! the part where his hair flies out from under his ears??!!! what a wonderful little detail that really captures the sudden panic. spencer's always been more of the kind to wear his heart on his sleeve and it's honestly endearing in this scene :)
the trash encounter is again so funny, because it's very spencer to not really use his brain before approaching someone, and it's so reader to fling a huge bag of trash at her "attacker". it's another unfortunate accident and i really feel for the reader and Spence, who obviously feels a little helpless.
"Spencer might be a germaphobe, and generally hate gross things, but he also has a heart of gold and really likes you." this is just a really cute line and it's sweet. so sweet.
everyone knows something is up when Spencer isn't being teased after the cafe conversation. somehow you never fail to make me laugh in small moments with lines like "Is he missing something? (Yes)" the parentheses just kill me, i love them.
and then the HUNDRED coffee cups are so obviously for the BAU but reader can't fathom ever being redeemed by Spencer/the FBI 
Spencer's lament that he "won’t have time to very slowly pour sugar into his already sweet drink while he scans the place, looking for you" is really weird but charming (much like the man himself) and i just imagine spencer drinking something that's almost akin to sludge (because of all the sugar granules) because he just keeps pouring until he gets a glimpse of you
BACK TO THE PARENTHESES of "(...If he had known you were going to be right in front of him today he would’ve worn a cooler sweater vest)" which is again so endearing of him, spencer wants to impress so badly even though reader is already very impressed (unbeknownst to him) --> (this also makes me think of spencer having a "special" section of his closet reserved for the nicest sweater vests [to wear when he sees you at the cafe, of course]).
reader!! making spencer a cup of coffee as best as she can (with the smiley face too augh my heartttt)
okay poor spencer rattling off the WORST fact about burns and fatality when the reader is trying to be nice and give him a cup of coffee and some sweet pastries. 
and then "Spencer’s seen you laugh before, definitely seen you smile, but to have it directed at him and have it be because of him is something else entirely – you’re something else entirely." is SO CUTE what the HECk spacey !! 
and this whole interaction: "You mimic the action of a pen, ask if he has any paper, and he all but sprints back to Derek’s desk to grab the closest pen and paper he can find – is it an important document? Who knows. Spencer has never cared less for his job before, because the most beautiful person he’s ever seen is willing to give him their number and he will physically fight anyone that tries to disrupt this." is so cute and entertaining- spencer's choice to go to derek's desk for ANY paper at all because success!! he's finally got her number. it's a victory for all of us :)
and then spencer's promise to text you IMMEDIATELY?! he's the best. it's official. (it's been official but it's declared official again). what an amazing boy. 
and that's it!! it's cute and imperfect and awkward but alls well that ends well :) thank you for another fic spacer <3 love u v much
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sharpen-jadescythe · 3 years
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A Little Bit of Ly’vell In My Life
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Lord Ly’vell Autumnspire has a real gift for making people fall in love again.
I know what love is. There is someone I have strong feelings for that you all already know about. But they say every time you fall in love, it’s different. Today, it feels like one ‘amour’ of mine, as he would call it, is as deep, as beautifully aqua-blue as her hair, and as all-encompassing, as mighty and unstoppable as the ocean beneath me—let’s say if I was stranded on the raft of life? A lone man orphaned with hardly anything to call his own, trapped on the water’s surface? Yes, she would give me respite from the boiling sun, tempt me to give into the waves, be a merman swimming alongside her beautifully together. Jiroki’s great gift is to let me get lost in that magnificent, stormy soul of hers and transform myself in that way. But this second love with Ly’vell, it’s like the vast sky up above, air flowing in from all over. Carrying birds, pollen and all the infinitesimal stuff of life, salt, or tears—who knows. But it’s all his potential, all the hope of a new love for life in his smile, that takes us high, way up there. The way Ly’vell loves, I could stand on that rocking raft alone, then lift up on my toes and reach, get snatched up and away forever. Actually fly. Far, far off. Perhaps one day, up into the stars. That world of Ly’vell’s love is always above my head and it is as pale and serene as his mane of white hair, snow waiting to fall soft, just for us.
So this is in case you were wondering about my love life right now, if you’ve noticed I was also spending time with a certain handsome someone. Sky and sea, green sea or white sky—however I can get you to understand how there are two people in my heart; and I hope that I’ve come close. Love above me and love beneath. I am delighted by two wonderful people at the moment. And now, it’s time I told you about Ly’vell.
I’m a crazy, hiking, nature-loving Night Elf guy that likes to impulsively get up at o’dark thirty (ask another SI:7 Seal what that means sometime). What was I up to so early in the morning? I have a strong instinct to go hunting some days, and I think I stepped out of the portal in Stormwind, you know the mage tower? Right about at sunrise, I’d say. No other fools like me should have been up, let alone exist in all of Elune’s creation. Or so I assumed. The morning light—like I’d dreamed it, white as snow. And the stained glass windows also in the hall were starting to paint pastels on the floor at our feet. Ours. His fine leather boots, and then my dusky ones. I knew he was a rogue before I even looked at him. You have to get good at these things in a fight, and a part of your mind is always ready when you’re a soldier. But this other Night Elf man’s cologne made me look up his legs in a different kind of way, you know what I mean, and enjoy taking a good long look at him. Tall him and all that gorgeous white hair swept behind his strong shoulders. I let out a breath. We were passing by each other for only a fleeting moment and I had no idea what to say. You know that voice in your head that tells you someone is far too attractive to even bother with because surely they’re already taken or have something better to do? Someone other than you? Well, I’m Sharpen Jadescythe as you know, so I did my typical himbo-fumble-through-anything-at-all.
“Nice blades.”
I meant his daggers. I instantly felt like a complete idiot though because I knew he was a rogue, I felt sure he was, but those were definitely spell-blades. I’m a blacksmith, I make all kinds of weapons but magical ones have always eluded me. You need enchantments, special reagents, an affinity for spells. These intricately patterned, reddish-purple blades hummed with subtle energy that I could now feel between us. The cross guard was somehow split in two. These elegant pieces were one with the blade, yet not. They spun apart, then revolved back in, tight, as if a child were pulling them on a yo-yo string. I must have ended up watching Ly’vell’s hips like a cat. His hand rested lightly over the perfectly matched spell-blade on is right side, where it was hitched into his belt.
I looked up. I think we finally got to swapping our names by then. But Ly’vell was grinning at me like he knew far better what was going on. At the same time, I got the sense that I wasn’t going to get off that easy. Not to make a dirty joke, but seriously--in this barely discernable language that was only starting to build between us two men, a dialect of looks exchanged, resting on a back foot and holding back, the flicker at the edge of a smile, a subtle purr escaping one’s throat, Ly’vell was already telling me that it wasn’t going to be easy and it wasn’t free.
What’s my typical Sharpen energy, what I naturally put out there, then? That I’m completely free and easier than tripping over a rock to fall face-first? Into love, I hope. All I know for sure is that I cleared my throat several times. I wish to goddess I could remember exactly what we said other than it was about a dagger, or who got clever first, then who finally made it about romance or whatever we both honestly wanted to get up to, and at that early in the morning ontop of everything else. Goddess, we both must have been very horny to start falling into steamy conversation in the Stormwind mage tower! I believe it went from a compliment, to my knees feeling weak, and him pressing his advantage fast, somehow standing almost ontop of me, with his height. He must have learned pretty quickly that I was more like prey, not the gruff, outdoorsy ‘you comin’ or what?’ macho man I appear to be at first. I think that enticed Ly’vell. Oh, the tiny hippo-puppy (hippogryph hatchling) perched on my shoulder, a very endearing little detail might have given that away too, that I’m… well, a sweet guy. So there was that grin again, his special grin for me. Now it said, ‘Alright, I’ll make this easy for you, poor thing.’ Little by little, Ly’vell was finding out that I was the one who wasn’t an easy catch, that I hardly ever did things like this. Ly’vell took his time and found a very sophisticated way to communicate that he liked my body, was very much affected by my open shirt and the big gun I had slung over my shoulder. Nice.
“I like big guns too.”
No. I mean, yes. I, Sharpen Jadescythe, actually said that. And if you need even more juicy gossip, I think it was me who pulled himself together and finally asked Ly’vell if he’d like to go get a drink. Though, I think we both knew Ly’vell had laid down a treat and then patiently waited for this sweet, stray himbo to wander in and get it, let himself get petted. A lot like that too, I very nervously attempted to keep a steady walk by Ly’vell’s side through the park, all the way round to the Slaughtered Lamb.
The place was mostly empty which means our getting right down to flirting over drinks was actually pretty shameless. And then I kissed Ly’vell right in front of a passing Stormwind guard on patrol who’d just entered the place to keep an eye on things. Well, what an eyeful he got! I suppose the barman was pretty unphased by his patrons’ shenanigans. I’d survived the scene in the mage tower, and at the bar I managed to hold my own and tempt him with sweet gestures until that big, blaring one. I’m not sure what won Ly’vell over in the end that I wasn’t mutton dressed as lamb, while we canoodled in the Slaughtered Lamb (don’t mind my jokes), but maybe that was it? I guess I really did grab the other man and let him have it. Ly’vell was unbelievably sexy, especially for someone who was simply going about his daily business when we crashed into each other, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
Then, just as fast, I chickened out of anything else and made an excuse to get on with my day soon after that first kiss. But Ly’vell gave me a damned classy black calling card, it was enchanted or something—yes, he was a Highborne spellblade he explained. The card recorded our messages, and he had his own so we could easily keep up in touch, wherever his stray himbo tried to scamper off to.
This man was, still is, the epitome of class. Honestly, I’ve been wanting to keep Ly’vell to myself all this time and not let any of my friends find out about him because Ly is that wonderful. And he’s easy-going, deeply romantic, plain fun. But, I soon made friends with Ly’s husband Nils anyway (I so adore Nils), and now I think we’ve all met each other’s friends, almost. So too late to keep the lovely Ly’vell, my lion, totally to myself. I don’t know if I care about that or anything, anymore. Ever since coming across Ly’vell casually in the tallest tower in the city, at the weirdest hour of the day, over the simplest little thing that could have gone like any half-spoke compliment I’ve shared with a stranger passing by, and that turning into a powerfully romantic encounter? I thought I’d slam into a wall for trying. But no, I feel like he and I have been flying all this time. Eagles. Truly free.
At first, I was wary of jumping into anything with someone. However, Ly chased me down and seduced me with his kindness and steadiness. And a few well-made leathern outfits—I think you guys saw a couple of those pieces? I’ve shared at least one picture of me in that harness. These days, I invite Ly to way too many parties, I even introduced him to Trixany who is one of my closest friends and a complete nut. Goddess, I’m sure he’ll be sick of this glitter-covered himbo who’s got like twelve-hundred pets, and is constantly changing his bright hair before long. But I hope not. Ly’vell is so easy to love, and I’ve also loved him chasing me around, that is, until he caught me.
Ly’vell and I could lay down in a field, hold hands, and see the bright sky wash above us for hours. Hours upon hours, just like that. And be at perfect peace, too.
I know we could.
((I can’t believe Sharpen met someone hot and totally nice in the Mage Tower in Stormwind? Really? That was COOL.))
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dc41896 · 5 years
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Happy New Year!
HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYS!!!! Hope this year brings unlimited success, an overabundance of positivity, and growth to all of you :)!! So this is a combination of an idea I had with a prompt idea submitted by @lovelymari4​ who mentioned the reader going to Germany and running into Florian. Hopefully you, and everyone who reads this, like what I came up with!! (P.S. If you guys ever see me use the same name twice for different imagines, my bad I forget the names I use sometimes lol)
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Pairing: Florian Munteanu x Black Reader 
Warnings: None 
Word Count: 2,171
“Y/N! Take our picture in front of this fountain please?,” your best friend, Daya, asks posing with her boyfriend Zeke. Taking pictures of the couple was pretty much your job during your trip to Germany seeing that you were the dreaded “third wheel”. 
Not that you really minded being the third wheel, both Daya and Zeke were your close friends and times with them were always fun. Well, fun in those times when you weren’t feeling the effects of being single. Seeing that it was New Years Eve, everywhere you guys went had decorations and flyers advertising about parties and how you didn’t want to be stuck at home alone. 
Plus walking around a foreign country viewing beautiful statues and historical landmarks as the snow lightly fell around you made you wish that you could share that experience with someone like how Daya and Zeke were. 
“Alright, I took multiples so hopefully you guys like them,” you answer, standing up from your squatted position as you hand Daya her phone back. 
“Thanks Y/N! And I trust you, you know my angles unlike someone,” she answers tilting her head towards Zeke.
“Hey I take good pictures! You just don’t like them.”
“Right so are they really good pictures then?,” she asks, squinting her eyes as if she’s trying to figure out an answer to her own question. 
“I mean the ones I take of myself get a good amount of likes so I would say so,” he counters with a smirk as you laugh at their discussion.
“Yea yea whatever. Y/N do you want some pictures too?,” she asks.
“Nah not this time, we can keep going-,” you start before being cut off by someone bumping into the back of you, causing you to stumble forward before being steadied by your friends. 
“Um who the-?!,” you thought as you turned around to see who (or what honestly) hit you. Seemingly towering over you, you’re met with a muscular man wearing dark jeans, Nike’s, and a leather jacket lined with a soft material covering a black long sleeve shirt. His brown beard was soft and just as thick as his body, while his green eyes seemed to capture your soul, but not in an intimidating way, like you wanted to keep looking into them for as long as you could.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?,” the mystery man asked in a deep, accented voice, slightly bending down to look in your eyes.
“No you’re fine! I mean fine like you don’t have to apologize because I’m fine not because you’re fine. I mean you are but-,”
“What my friend is trying to say is that she’s ok,” Daya answered looking at you amused by how you were acting.
“Yea that.”
“That’s good. I was recording a story for Instagram and my friend here failed to notify me in time that someone was there. I know very dumb and again I’m really sorry,” he replies, cheeks slightly red from embarrassment.
“It’s ok, just maybe don’t try to post and walk at the same time. Especially with people around,” you softly laugh, along with him and your friends. 
“I’m Florian by the way, and this is my friend Leon,” he introduces as his equally fit friend moves forward to shake all of your hands. 
“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N and these are my friends Daya and Zeke.” 
“Nice to meet you guys. Well, we don’t want to hold you up from what you guys had planned next, so hope you guys have a great day and Happy New Year!,” Florian smiles.
“Thanks and Happy New Year to you guys too!,” you smile before you and your friends turn to continue your sight seeing. After only a few steps, you hear Florian calling your name as he jogged to catch up you.
“You dropped your um…lip gloss?,” he states handing you the small tube and making you smile.
“Yea lip gloss and thanks, this is my favorite one so definitely don’t want to lose it.”
“And we wouldn’t want that to happen. I mean not we as in us, like I know you like it and I think it’s pretty and probably looks good on you too-,”
“It’s ok I know what you mean,” you giggle as he softly chuckles. There’s a small silence between the two of you. With his hands in his pockets as he slowly shifts from one side to the other, you could tell he wanted to say something else, but something was stopping him from getting whatever it was off of his mind. 
“Hey I don’t want to seem creepy or anything, which honestly that statement in itself probably makes it creepy so this already isn’t going well,” he begins, pausing to laugh to himself and mentally grateful that you laughed too. “I was wondering if you and your friends had plans for tonight? Because if not, me and Leon are going to this party for New Years, and a bunch of our other friends are gonna be there, so you guys are more than welcome to join.”
“Um thanks that’s really nice of you to invite us! I’d have to ask them first though to see what they might be thinking.”
“Yea of course! Definitely think about it and I’ll give you my number so I can text you the address and everything if you guys decide to come,” he smiles as you pull out your phone. You had to admit watching his giant hand type on your phone was pretty funny. He didn’t have any problems maneuvering through the screens and buttons, but still the sight of such a bulky man with this small phone in his hands was quite a look. 
“Amused by a huge man such as myself holding this small phone?,” he asks with a smirk giving your phone back. While you could hold in your laughs, the look on your face was plain as day to what you were thinking. 
“A little, but not like in a bullying or ‘making fun of’ kind of way I promise.”
“It’s alright, my friends tease me about it all the time. And speaking of friends, it looks like yours may be having a very aggressive discussion.” Looking over your shoulder, you see Daya and Zeke’s hands going back and forth as both of them try to prove their point on something probably pointless.
“They’re probably arguing over where to eat. Let me go break them up before they bring anymore attention to themselves,” you sigh. “Thanks again for my lip gloss and I promise to message you about the party.”
With a wave and a final goodbye, you both went your separate ways. You, giddy from having an experience straight out of a romantic comedy and Florian feeling just as excited, hoping that he would see you again tonight. 
______
Lightly spraying perfume around you, you walk out of the bathroom in your dark high-waist skinny jeans with black stiletto booties paired with a fitted, long sleeve, black turtleneck. Yea it was probably simple compared to the glittery cocktail dresses you were sure to see around tonight, but you were not about to risk pneumonia going out in this German winter.
“Aww look at our little girl all grown up!,” Daya gushed making you shake your head. 
“Come on D, lets not embarrass her on her first date,” Zeke smiles wrapping his arm around Daya.
“Ok, both of y’all need to calm down, last time I checked I am grown up and this isn’t my first date. Now if you’re done mom and dad we need to head out before we’re late.”
“Ok, but not before we take a group picture!,” Daya smiles before reaching her arm up to make sure all of you were in the screen and snapping a picture of your smiling faces.
Arriving at the hookah lounge that Florian sent, you see the man himself standing outside now clad in a red hoodie, dark jeans, and a different pair of Nike’s. The street light above made his thick, gold chain gleam more so than it already was as he occasionally shifted from one side to the other with his hands behind his back.
“Hey, you didn’t have to wait out in the cold for us,” you greet as the three of you walk up to him.
“I know, but it’s easier this way so I can show you where we’re sitting versus trying to text it to you,” Florian responds with a smile.
“Woww thick, sweet, and looks like Hercules reincarnated? Sis marry him or I will!,” Daya whispers to you while you all follow him to the section him and his friends were seated.
“Can the man ask me out first? Better yet, can we get confirmation that he actually likes me?,” you whisper back, softly laughing at how your friend was basically trying to marry you off.
“What do you think this is?! Yea it’s not one on one, but open your eyes because he definitely asked you out it’s just in a group setting.”
Shaking your head, you direct your attention towards Florian as he introduces you to the rest of his friends seated on the plush couches. Meeting his crew made you truly understand the saying, ‘birds of a feather, flock together’ as all of his friends were equally as good looking and fit as he was. They also were just as nice immediately including you guys in their conversations and asking questions getting to know you. 
Seated next to Florian, you both took turns talking with your friends and maintaining your own conversation. You found out he was an actor and lived in Germany, which would explain why he didn’t seem fazed when standing outside in the cold. 
You also saw how down to earth and caring he was, which of course made you even more attracted to him and was something you didn’t want to happen. Not that you weren’t open to a relationship, it’s just long distance relationships were tough and came with plenty of challenges. That is if you guys became an actual item.
“Guys it’s almost time!,” Daya excitedly squeals, before joining Zeke at the bar to grab a glass of champagne.
“So if you don’t mind me asking, what’s something you wanna get out of the new year?,” Florian asks, green eyes seemingly hypnotizing you from how much attention he was giving you.
“This is probably gonna be really boring, but the basics as far as health, positivity, success. But what I’m most concerned about, is whatever is meant for me making it’s way to me for the next year, decade, and rest of my life,” you answer, twisting the stem of your own champagne glass between your fingers, making the liquid lightly swirl. “What about you?”
“Definitely more success and health, and I just hope to spend as much time with my family and friends as I can.”
Just as he finishes, you hear people around starting to countdown from 10 signaling that the New Year would be coming soon. Both of your groups stayed seated as the timer on the screens around went back from five and eventually got to zero making everyone yell out “Happy New Year!”
You hugged Daya and Zeke, before they turned to each other to have an infamous New Years kiss, which was on the minds of the other couples there as well. That was always the awkward part about New Year’s Eve parties. It seemed that everyone around you was glued to someone else’s face, while you stuffed yours with snacks. 
Setting those thoughts aside, you turn to hug Florian and wish him a Happy New Year, to which he does the same; kissing you on the cheek and making you giggle as you squirm back a bit.
“Sorry, my beard’s a bit ticklish,” he laughs instinctively reaching his hand up to lightly graze his beard. 
“No it’s ok,” you smile. In that moment, it was as if both of you were on the same wavelength as you both leaned in to meet the other’s lips. Lightly caressing your head with his hand, your hands find their way to his hoodie softly clutching the fabric as if to not ruin it. As you both pull apart, part of you is amazed at the fact that truly just happened while the other wishes it never stopped.
“You got some uh gloss on your lips,” you say, giggling as you hand him a napkin. Letting out a deep chuckle, he wipes the product from his lips before discarding the paper on the table in front of him. 
“Is that the same lip gloss I handed you earlier?”
“Yea, why? You’re not allergic are you?!”
“No no! Don’t worry, I’m just thanking God that I gave it back to you,” he winks, causing that giddy feeling to well inside of you again, as all of your friends can be heard doing various wolf whistles and shouts around the both of you. 
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