#as well as me and my grandma with my grandma standing on a stool because 'she wanted to appear taller than me for once'

[lipstickontheglass1985]

giggling and kicking my legs thinking abt the silly little pictures i picked out for my silly little wall

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

(cw: mentions of losing a close family member)

König doesn’t really know how to cook.

Well, anything other than the basics… Most of his meals consist of rice, meat and some kind of vegetable. Or like a carton of eggs. And of course, he can warm up meals and cook pasta and put pesto on it. But working in the military his whole life, he never really had the need to learn to prepare something to eat other than those basics, because most of the meals were provided and he’ll eat any- and everything. When he’s on leave, he cycles through his staples and also orders a lot of take-out, just to satisfy the calorie intake he needs at his size.

His grandma used to cook for him, ever since he was a little boy and then when he returned to Austria as an adult, she always made sure to prepare his favourite meals. He hasn’t been back ever since her funeral, he tells me while he gets some ingredients out of the fridge. Eggs, milk and butter. He misses her and her cooking, but that’s just how it is in life. Flour from the pantry. Mixing it all together, eyeballing the measurements, and adding a pinch of salt.

She taught him how to make Palatschinken. Thin pancake or crepe-like sheets of dough that he apparently made too much of. Rolled up, filled with jam and powdered sugar on top.

“Pala- what?”, I ask, wanting him to teach me how to say the word properly.

“Pa-la-tschin-ke.”, he repeats, sounding the syllables out, and I imitate them, until he tells me that I’ve got it.

I sit at the cooking island in his kitchen, on one of the chairs, and watch him pour the thin dough into the hot buttered pan. It bubbles and sizzles as he swirls it around, until the whole bottom is covered. Waiting for it to be cooked from one side. He lifts the edges with a spatula to make sure. Then he looks at me, raising his brows, like ‘Look at me, look what I can do’, lifting the pan of the hob, holding it in front of his body.

Oh, oh, that won’t- He flips it with a rehearsed flick of his wrist, the thin pancake rotating in the air for just a moment, then landing in the pan again.

I coo, clapping excitedly. He bows jokingly, with the pan still in his hand.

When it’s done, he puts the Palatschinke on a plate, spreads apricot jam on the thin dough, rolls it up and then sprinkles powdered sugar over it, setting the sweet roll in front of me. Gesturing me to eat.

I dig in, cutting it, and the fluffy dough almost melts on my tongue, the sweet jam spreading in my mouth as I chew. God damn it, that’s good. Simple, but very tasty. I finish the first one in record time and he puts the next Palatschinke on my plate. I fill it myself, devouring that one as well. He starts to make more, stacking them on a separate plate.

“You wanna try to make one as well?”, he asks me then.

I nod excitedly and get up from the stool. He hands me the pan and the ladle, putting some more butter onto the hot teflon, and I add the dough. When it’s cooked through, I try to do the flip just like he did. The little crepe flops up a bit and then folds in on itself. I burst into laughter and he joins in. Well, that didn’t go as planned.

“Don’t worry, that happened to me a lot of times.”, he says, scrapping the dough into the bin. “We’ll try again.”

So, the same spiel again. Until the Palatschinke is ready to be flipped. He’s standing behind me, we’re both gripping the handle of the pan and he’s looking over my shoulder, coaching me through it.

“Mit Gefühl.”, he tells me. “Carefully, but with determination.”

“I wanted to flip this thing, not get a lecture on how to enter some-“, I quip, but I get cut off when he playfully pinches my butt cheek.

It makes me jump up a bit and I bat his hand away. “König!”, I yelp, with pretend indignation, but he only grins down at me.

“Come on, you can do it.”, he says, nudging the pan in my hand.

“On three. One, two, three!”, I count down and then we flip it, together. The piece of dough rotates in the air and lands in the pan again.

“First authentically self-made Palatschinke.”, he says, with joking solemnity, as he drops it onto my plate. I do the rest of the steps and then eat it as well.

He makes Palatschinke after Palatschinke, telling me some more about his grandma and the dishes she used to cook, until all of the dough is gone. I listen to him and eat a whole bunch of them until I’m so full, I feel like I’m gonna burst. He finishes the rest of the thin pancakes, decimating a whole stack of them with lots of jam and sugar.

“The rest we can cut into small strips and put into soup.”, he explains.

“Into soup?!”, I question what he just said.

“Yes, Frittatensuppe. It’s really delicious.”, he says like it’s a normal thing.

I shake my head. Those Austrians and their weird dishes.

If you wanna try and make your own Palatschinken like metalhead!könig and reader, I got a recipe for you! Enjoy! a/n: this is the start of a little series I'm doing for mh!k x reader because I have so many scenes (some already finished a while ago like this one) that don't have a certain place in the plot and are just sitting in my word document, left to rot, so i'm gonna post them as their own random scenes that are still connected to them! some of it is gonna be sfw comfort fluff like this one, some is gonna be nsfw - stay tuned <3 Wanna get to know them better? Find more chapters in the Masterlist

[kryptonitejelly]

Everyone say thank you Joe Jonas 😂

But my god does this give me absolute fly!boy Jake feels!

thank you joe jonas for giving us something which is NOT orange. i just had to finish this today because we are all in need of something cute and fluffy 😵‍💫 (well i am..)

context: Flyboy (but readable without)

“Uncle Jake is hurting my sheep,” you hear a little wail from the small being that comes hurtling herself straight into your legs the moment you open the door to the pitter patter of tiny knocks.

“We can’t have that now can we?” You gasp, bend, swinging the little girl up with a practiced ease that had come from being around Jake’s nephew and nieces, something that had been a common occurrence through the years you had known him, but which had become even more prevalent since you had gotten engaged, and subsequently married, “where is Uncle Jake?”

She snuggles up to you, throwing an around behind your neck as she points her other hand down the hallway towards one of the rooms which served as a makeshift playroom each time Grandma Doris had any of her great grandchildren over.

“There?“ You ask.

“There,” she nods firmly, and you begin treading towards the end of the hall.

You reach the open door, exchanging a silent look with the little girl in your arms before you enter, stifling a chuckle at the look of determination knitted in her brows.

“He’s sitting on my sheep,” she cries out as you both step into the room to find Jake straddling the inanimate sheep in question, a sort of children’s stool, really, while taking a swig out of the bottle of water in his hands, “make him get stop” she pleads with you, eyes wide.

You catch Jake’s eye and catch the glimmer of amusement dancing in the sea of green.

You put your lips beside his niece’s ear, whispering in a hushed tone. It makes Jake raise a brow, slightly suspicious, as she nods seriously. You set her on the ground and she walks over to Jake, crossing her arms stubbornly across her chest as she tilts her head defiantly upwards at Jake.

“Uncle Jake, if you don’t get off my sheep, you are sleeping in your own room tonight.”

“You would not,” he looks at you immediately while lowering and capping the bottle of water.

“You heard the kid,” you say with a light shrug.

“Yeah, you heard me Uncle Jake,” his niece sticks her chin out, knowing she has the upper hand.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he says, almost sulkily, to which you roll your eyes. You don’t however, get to respond as the little girl in front of you responds on your behalf.

“No, my side Uncle Jake,” she sticks out her tongue, before adding for good measure, “I’m the favourite.”

It does the trick, Jake swings a leg easily over, coming to a stand. He picks his niece up in a single swoop, placing her back onto the sheep, before reaching out towards you and tugging you close to him. Jake’s hands squeeze your hips as the front of your body presses against his. You rest your palms flat on his chest as you pull your head back slightly to look at him.

“I’m your favourite,” he insists, looking back at you.

“Are you?” You pretend to think about it, while peeking over his shoulder toward his niece who is now happily sitting atop her reclaimed sheep, stroking the fabric on its body, oblivious to you both.

“I am,” he reiterates, to which you chuckle, while sliding a hand along the lapels of his jacket.

“We’ll see about that,” you say and Jake squeezes your hips again in protest.

“I’ll always be your favourite,” he says, leaning in close so that the tip of his nose nudges against yours.

“Are you really competing with a child?” You ask, sliding a hand up his shoulder and along the back of his neck to fiddle with the ends of his hair; he had taken some time off work, taking the chance to let his hair grow out for a change.

“Yes,” Jake says matter of factly and it makes you laugh.

“Will you compete with your own children in the future?”

“No competition,” Jake snorts, his hands moving upwards to come to press against the small of your back, “I’ll always be your favourite.”

“I’m not sure why I married you,” you hum, clearly joking, tilting your face slightly closer to Jake’s and it earns you a grin which you feel on your lips as he closes what little distance is left in a kiss.

“I wonder why,” he hums between a kiss, as a shout explodes from behind Jake.

“GRANDMA GRACE, UNCLE JAKE IS MAKING KISSY FACES IN FRONT OF ME AGAIN.”

The yell accompanies a shuffle of clothing and a thump as his niece clamours off the sheep, landing on the floor before bolting out of the room calling for Grace Seresin.

It makes you burst into a fit laugh, tearing your lips away from Jake, your head ducking, forehead resting on on his shoulder as your shoulders shake with humour. It makes Jake smile, widely, as he wraps arounds around your body, before planting a kiss on the top of your hair.

“Should have just kissed you from the start.”

[the-only-noonstar]

Incorrect Quotes

(mostly because I was bored)

INCORRECT QUOTES GENERATOR

ft. @keenie-bopper, @grandma-susan and @helluvaoutlaw

Striker : You were wise to seek help from the world's most deadly weapon. Striker : It's me.

Striker : Did you buy the eggs? Keenie: Even better! Striker : What the- Keenie: holding up a chicken Her name is Fluffy

Keenie: Why is there blood everywhere? Striker: I may have aggressively poked someone with a knife. Keenie: You stabbed someone?! Striker: No, no. I aggressively poked someone with a knife.

Keenie: What happened?! Striker : Do you want the long version or the short version? Keenie: Sh-short?? Striker : Shit's fucked. Keenie: Okay, long. Striker : Shit's very fucked.

Striker : I’m having salad for dinner! Keenie: Striker : Well, fruit salad. Striker : Actually, it’s mostly grapes. Keenie: Striker : Okay, it’s all grapes. Striker : Fermented grapes. Keenie: Striker : Keenie: Striker : It’s wine. Striker : I’m having wine for dinner.

Striker : I'm going to get myself some soup. Harper: Be careful not to burn yourself, it's hot. Striker : Pfft, I won't burn myself. 30 seconds later Striker , entering the room: I burned myself.

Striker: Who hurt you? Harper: snorting What, do you want a list? Striker: …Yes, actually.

Striker : Hey, wanna help me commit arson? Harper: What the hell!? Striker : Oh, sorry, my bad. Striker , whispering: Wanna help me commit arson? Harper, whispering: Of course. What do you need?

Harper, texting Striker : Text me when you’re home safely. Striker : I’m home dangerously. Harper: Stop it. Striker : I’m home lethally.

Harper: I called you like ten times! Why didn’t you pick up? Striker : remembers dancing to the ringtone Striker : I didn’t hear it.

Harper: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it. Striker : I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out. Harper: Th-that's not how that works-

Striker: on the phone Hey Susan, do you know my blood type? Susan: Of course, it's B-. Striker: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-!

Susan: I have met some of the most insufferable people. But they also met me.

Striker: Wow, great work on the Halloween decorations. Where did you get the fake skeletons? Susan: Fake?

Susan: What does a winner do when life gives them lemons? Striker: Um, make lemonade? Susan: No, they squeeze them right back into life’s eyes!

Susan: You've got to act tough, Keenie! Show 'em you can't be pushed around! Show 'em they can't mess with you! Keenie: Right. Yes. Tough. Got it. Keenie, standing up on their stool and slamming their hands down on the bar: I'LL TAKE A CHOCOLATE MILK.

Keenie: That sounds super! Doesn’t that sound super, Susan? Susan: No. Keenie: I think I speak for Susan when I say it sounds really super.

Susan: Yes, I'm adopting Keenie and you cowards can't tell me no!

Susan: You know, I used to play back in my gory days. Keenie: You mean glory days? Susan: Ah, that too.

[adri-2022]

Home

Fandom: Chicago PD

Characters: Jay Halstead x Daughter!Reader / Gregg “Mouse” Gerwitz / OC Lucy Henderson

Warnings: Fluff

Word count: 1256

Jay Halstead Materlist

A/N: Hi my beautiful people. Here is another original imagine. I hope everyone is doing great. Also portraying Lucy Henderson is Meryl Streep. Sending love 💕

Don’t be afraid to leave your comment!

———————

Two years. It had been two years since the last time you saw your father or talked to him. You were now 16 years old, and had changed a lot both physically and mentally. Your dad was a ranger in the military and was currently deployed in a top secret mission, hence why you couldn’t contact him. Which made you scared and anxious, terrified that one day someone would knocking on your door saying he died. You were put in homeschooling before your dad deployed, assuring your safety.

But who took care of you while your dad was gone? Well, that would be sweet Lucy Henderson, your next door neighbor, who didn’t hesitate to be your guardian. After all she was a widow and didn’t have any kids. In her own words “your dad is my son and you are my granddaughter”. She was like the grandma figure you no longer had and also the only feminine figure in your life -she was a very important part of your daily life-.

Today was another normal day in Lucy’s household you had woken up early Friday, and no school. So you thought about painting or drawing just to pass time. And essentially forget about the fact that you really felt disconnected.

“Nana have you seen my drawing notebook?” you asked walking in the kitchen where Lucy was cocking an apple pie. At your voice she turned around smiling before turning all the way to face you.

“Yes honey, I believe you left it in the porch swing” Lucy answered pointing to the swing through the window. You loved to be there, just spend afternoons looking at the passing cars, the parents and their kids.

“Right sorry” you answered sitting down on the stool, sad look on your face. Lucy knew exactly what was going through your mind, because quite frankly it was going through hers as well.

“I miss him too sweet pie” she said reaching over the counter to hold your hands.

“I wish he was here right now. I just want to hug him nana” you whispered, whipping the tears that managed to escape your eyes. You felt like if more time went by, the more strangers you would be to each other, you missed your dad like crazy. She smiled at you before kissing your hands, making you smile. You stood up rounding the kitchen aisle and giving her a bear hug to which she chuckled. Breaking the hug you made your way to your room in her house and she went back to backing.

Meanwhile in a bus reaching Chicago another conversation was being held. One army ranger holding a picture of a girl in his hand, a sweet smile on his face in anticipation. It was a picture of you in your 14th birthday right before he left.

“When was the last time you saw her?” Mouse -your dads new best friend asked- making Jay turn to look at him, shaking his head before answering

“2 years, 8 months and 10 days” Jay answered smirking at the fact that it wouldn’t be longer than an hour until he would get the chance to see his little girl, who wasn’t little anymore.

“Man she must be excited” Mouse laughed slightly looking at Jay, who looked down not answering. You would be, right?

“I hope” Jay answered making Mouse furrow his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” he asked, to which Jay sighed.

“She doesn’t know. Haven’t talked to her since the day I left, couldn’t- couldn’t talk to her. I really hope she forgives me- you know two years can do a lot to someone. And I wasn’t there so I can only pray she can forgive me” with that Jay looked out the window, Mouse leaving the conversation behind at the change of mood.

To say Jay was terrified was underestimating things. Standing in front of Lucy’s house Jay’s hands could only shake at the anticipation. Mouse had tried to calm him down but nothing work on his friend. Mouse was there in moral support -knowing Jay would need it- and he was also going to be staying at Jay’s house for a while.

“Do you want me to knock?” Mouse asked him, to which Jay nodded. Knocking on the door Mouse looked back at his friend at the bottom of the steps, waiting when an old woman appeared, smile falling instantly at the sight of the soldier. She took a deep breath before speaking,

“If it is bad news I don’t want to call her just yet” she said tears coming to her eyes, to which Mouse shook his head smiling a little before stepping aside for her to see Jay’s standing figure at the bottom of the steps.

“Oh goodness grace…I knew it!” Lucy laughed, moving to hug him, Jay chuckling at the sight of her.

“Oh my boy. Look at you” Jay smiled sweetly at the woman while she had a hand on his cheek looking for any kind of bruising. After a moment she smiled sweetly at him relieved her boy was back and in one piece, or at least physically.

“You alright?” she asked with a serious look, he nodded slightly.

“I will be. H-how is she?” he asked nervously, hearing Lucy laugh. She knew by his body language that he was very much scared, Lucy could always tell,

“Sassy, sweet- so beautiful, bigger…” she said before turning around to the house,

“Y/N! Come down here hon!” Lucy shouted to you. Hearing her call you, you assumed it was to eat that delicious pie.

“Coming!” running down the stairs you were met with the front door opened giving you full view of who was standing at the bottom of the front steps. Lucy and another guy slightly to the side. You felt how your body freezed, forgeting how to function, you didn’t even know you were crying until a sob escaped your lips.

“Is that your little girl?” Mouse leaned whispering to Jay, who smiled bigger than ever,

“That’s my little girl” he said taking his gaze away from you looking at Mouse, who was met with the most proud expression he has ever seen, before being pulled away by a scream.

“DAD!” with that Jay was met with a body colliding onto his, air leaving his lungs for a moment. Right before coconut shampoo and vanilla perfume invaded his senses. Not hesitating twice to wrap his not so little girl in a much needed, much anticipated embrace. Pulling away, Jay’s hands went to your face, putting the piece of hair that escaped behind your ears giving him the best view he has ever seen. The view he missed like crazy. The sight of his favorite person in the whole world, his daughter.

“You’re home…” you said giving him a teary smile to which he matched, kissing the top of her head without taking his hands off her face.

“You kept your promise” you sobbed giving him a relieved yet teary smile,

“You look so big baby” he whispered between laughs looking at you with heart eyes while brushing your head with so much love it made you want to cry again. This made you giggle slightly before hugging his waist again. Jay placed his nose in your head, closing his eyes. This was what home felt like.

“I’m home” Jay nodded tears running down his cheeks and the biggest smile he’s ever shared with the world.

[vinetae]

Just The Milk

You just wanted some milk..

Genre: Crack, 90s!AU, Implied Smut, Funny

A/n: Sorry not sorry for this. 'Twas inspired by @minisugakoobies reblog of BTS's Seasons Greeting's packet and it had been stuck in my mind. Was planning on making this smutty, (hence the tittle - still might who knows 👀) but I wanted a good laugh. And yes, I had the humor of a 12 year old. Deal with it.

If this gets bigger then I'll probably do a smutty chapter but this isn't a series ya'll. Like, it's like all of my oneshots turn into series XD

You take a step into the little store right on the corner of your street. Letting go of a breath, as a wave of cooling A/C hits your skin. Your head swivels to the side, admiring the tiny shop’s wide selection. Korea’s hottest days, now fade out of sight as you take in all the glorious air conditioning. Feet trotting to the side, as a ring echoes the small convenient store. You step right, letting the large, covered man by. 

“Ah, thank you.” He replies, turning on his heel to make his way towards the album section. Your eyebrow quirks, wondering why this little corner shop even had an album section in the first place.

Walking over to the beverage section, you grab a little summer cool down to well - cool you down. 

“Hey, Jimin!” A voice calls out, as you turn your head. The strange man from earlier waves over to the cashier who you hadn’t even noticed was there to begin with. The man at the counter sets today’s newspaper down, turning to the side to give his -what you’re assuming, friend - his attention. 

“Have you guys got any new releases yet?” He becks, flipping through a few old, vintage looking vinyl records. Your eyes catch a few classics, and some newer stuff. 

Jimin shrugs, taking a sip of his iced americano. “Dunno. Jin hasn’t stocked the shelves.” He goes back to reading his newspaper. 

“You mean you haven’t stocked the shelves yet.” The older man rolls up Jimin’s paper to whack him upside the head, making the boy yelp in shock. “I swear, Jimin. I don’t even know why I hired you.” 

Jimin smirks, twisting in his circular stool. Feet barely reaching the floor. “You didn’t. Your dad loves me so much he offered me a job here.” The man sporting a strange, deep maroon colored blazer, with a fucky, retro tie coiled around his neck. Light orange hair dyed to match his unique but hot appearance. Newsboy hadn’t been well off either. He too, had worn a strange tracksuit, with a little handkerchief tied around his head to resemble one of the halmonies you’d see peeling squid outside the port. 

On the hottest day of summer… he decided to wear a tracksuit?

Things were just getting weirder around here-

“Oh!” The blazer man yelps, raising a hand to motion you over. “I didn’t realize we had a customer!” He hits the grandma-looking boy upside the head with a good smack, making his wince from pain. 

“Ow! This is sexual harassment!” He gripes, grabbing his newspaper from his hyung’s hand, smacking him back upside the head as well. The two start bickering off in the corner, as a loud crashing sound blasts through the once tranquil space. 

“Oh shit-” He curses in English, picking himself up off the piles of album covers that he’d somehow knocked over, then fell on top. Blazer man’s mouth drops to the ground, spewing a few sentences angrily. 

“Youmotherfuckernamjoonitoldyounottocomebacktothisstorenowlookwhatyou’vedonedoyouknowhowhardiworkedonthatdisplay!??!” 

Damn. That man rapped faster than emineim. 

Your eyes widened in shock, at his speed, watching as he stomped over the well-dressed customer, gripping his collar harshly. “I told you to stay out of this store before I call the police!” The blue haired man gets dragged to the door, before grandma-look-alike whistles out. 

“Guys! CU-stomer!” All three heads turn to face you. Blazer guy immediately drops the blue boy (you called him that because he wore an all steel blue oversized suit that looked like it would’ve fit Andre the Giant.) You stand there awkwardly, hands clasp in the front, holding onto a little strawberry banana milk. Fingers toying with the little label which had been peeling off. 

“Uh.. hi..” You manage to wave, right as the doors ding for a second time. Two men stride into the convenient store, as the blonde 90s dad dressed man cheers loudly, holding another man’s hand. 

“Woo hoo! Guess who just won the big-” He stops, lowering his raised hand. A confused expression fades into sight. His head turns, meeting towards the blue boy’s disheveled self. Blondie lets out a sigh. “Namjoon.. Again? Come on dude, it’s like the third time this week!” Blue boy’s head- sorry. Namjoon’s head shakes in defeat, sighing at his own mistakes.

“Yah, Taehyung, you know you’re not supposed to be in here either.” Grandma-man retorts, flipping through a page from his newspaper as he glances up through pixelated sunglasses. 

Blazer man shouts at grandma. “Yah! What’d I tell you about opening products, Jimin-ah!?”  He stomps over towards the boy, reaching to swipe up the newspaper once more, but grandma’s quick to dodge, instead he opts for running around the building like a little kid. If this were a cartoon, Jimin’s tracks would’ve stopped like road runner, bobbing in place before turning to you. A greasy grin perks his lips. 

“Why hello my dear~” He flips back his hair, acting as if this was a Rev*on commercial. (Not getting sued today, folks.)

Your eyebrows knit together, slow to back away from the two boys as your body crashes into a large figure. You pivot on your heel, being met with a man who looked like he dressed for the streets. Literally. He’s adorning a cute, red athletic shirt, some baggy dark wash jeans, a red and white headband to match, along with some cool traffic light kicks. (because they had been colored red, yellow, and green.) A few bracelets and accessories dripped his wrists like a fancy rich kid who we all used to know at school. 

“Woah, slow your roll, doll face.” He smiles, helping you back to your standing position, backing away respectfully. Grandma boy lets out a groan. 

“What are you doing here, Hyung? Didn’t you already get your daily dose of ego boost for the day?” The hip man chuckles, throwing his arm around the younger boy. 

“Ahhh, Jimin-ahh.” He turns to you, flashing a quick wink. “One can never receive too many compliments. Isn’t that right, sweetcheeks?” 

Back away, Y/n. 

BACK. AWA-

“Ow!”

Fuck.

You turn around, jaw practically dropping to the floor as you’re met with the most handsomest man who you’ve ever seen - rocking.. Leopard print..?

He bows quickly, mumbling a quick sorry under his breath before making his way over to the freezer section. Your eyes followed his body as if they’d been on a rope of some sort. The black satin suit he draped had been luxurious looking. Wondering why in the hell would he be in these parts of the streets with such lush items at hand. 

What the hell was going on!?

You back away slowly, careful as to not bump into anyone else, before you book it towards the door. 

A voice calls out before you can leave. “Wait! Ma’am you’ve gotta pay for that!”

Another one. “Hey, that’s not the d!-”

You smack into the huge glass window. Face smearing against its once polished surface, as your body slides down in embarrassment. 

“-oor..” He sucks in a breath, wincing in pain for you. 

This was just perfect.

..

“Jungkook back up, give her some room.” 

“I am-” 

“Dude I can literally see you drooling over her-” 

“Ewww, Taehyung, get your hand out of your pants!” 

“What? My balls itch!” 

“Dude that's still gro- move your fat ass over, Jimin!” 

“Hey! My ass is fabulous and we all know it!”

"Fat ass full of LIES, Jimin." Jungkook retorts.

Jimin gasps, holding his chest. "Why you little-"

“Shh shh, I think she’s waking up!” 

Jimin grumbles, arms crossing over his chest as he mumbles. "Hmph. You're just jealous."

The room goes silent. They watch as your chest rises, then falls once more. Soon, your eyes peel open. The bright fluorescent light beams down onto your sensitive face, holding your hand to caress the tender spot gently, wincing from pain. 

“That was one hell of a knockout, dude.” The blonde man retorts, coughing as grandma looking guy shoves his side. You sit up, as blazer man’s hand comes out to support your back. 

“Easy, girl. Nice and slow.” He coos. 

“She’s not a dog, idiot.” The man wearing a mint green shirt that had the words ‘vetements’ labeled, retorts. His orange headband looked like someone had just cut off the top of his beanie. The orange, clear sunglasses add for coolness, but you highly doubt practicality. 

You take a look around the room, no longer seeing the shelved convenient store which had been wreaked. Now, you were just sat in a dark room, with a few condiment bottles played across and some toilet paper rolls. A bright light swings overyour body, as the group of men gather around your body like an interrogation. 

The light suddenly flashed into your eyes, making you wince. His voice is stern and deep. “Where were you on the night of January 10th, 1943?!” You let out a groan, pushing the man away as a few of the others start hitting him on the side. 

“Dumbass, she might have a concussion!” Taehyung whines, flinching away from his brothers’ slaps. 

Your feet are suddenly lifted from their resting place, as your head slams against the table. You moan out from pain. “Maybe she’s having a seizure?? Lift her head!” Grandma-boy is quick to lift your head, while the other man holds your feet. Emo boy and grandma fight over who’s right. 

“Yah! Jungkook let go! You’re hurting her!” Grandma squeezes your head, pulling it to his chest. Emo boy tugs at your feet, nearly dragging along your skinny jeans in the process. Your hands quickly grip onto the loops, holding on for dear life as to not expose yourself to these strangers. 

“Me hurting her!? You’ve practically got her in a choke-lock, Jiminie! Let go of her!” 

“No! YOU let go of her!” 

“No, YOU!”

“NO. YOU!” 

“N-” 

“BOTH OF YOU, let go of her!” Namjoon’s voice echoes through the dimly lit storage room, as the two boys both let go of you at the same time. Their arms cross against their chests, huffing towards one another. 

Namjoon’s hand comes up to graze your bruise, sighing. “You okay?” Your head nods slowly, rubbing at your temples. 

“Just hurts a bit..” You comment. His hand extends out, holding a little bag of frozen veggies for a cold compress. You’re quick to put it to the bruise, sucking in a breath from the level of pain. Namjoon’s eyes soften, head tilting to the side. 

“It’s a pretty nasty bruise alright..” your lips roll off a sigh in frustration, head lowering from shame. 

“Is the window okay?” Blazer man’s chuckle cuts in, as he pulls a chair up to sit in front of you. 

“Baby girl, that window could withstand ten rounds fired at a time. I’m sure it’s okay.” Your head swivels around, taking in the strange scene. 

“Where am I?” 

“SHE HAS AMNESIA-” Emo boy rushes over, yanking down on your head, peeling back your eyelids as far as they could go. “How many fingers am I holding up!?!??!”

Your head turns to the side, fist clenching as you ask Namjoon. “Can I punch him?” Namjoon chuckles, hands resting between his spread thighs. 

“Sadly, no. He’s got a photo shoot here in about an hour.” You groan, feeling the strength of Namjoon pulling you up by your arm and away from the emo kid’s frantic grip. 

“Ya’ll are idiots.” Mint boy retorts, popping off the cap from one of the Coke’s. Blazer man’s head swivels, as fire burns in his eyes. 

“MIN FUCKING YOONGI YOU BETTER PAY FOR THAT!” Yoongi’s eyes roll, flicking the cap into rapping man’s hand

“Chill, I’ll leave the cash at the register before I leave.” 

“Ow! Taehyung get your hands off of me!” Grandma yelps out, trying to pull himself from Taehyung’s grip.

Namjoon sighs, shaking his head. “I swear, this place is a daycare.” 

“Oh shut up, namjoon! You’re the one who broke the album display!” Hoseok chimes in, laughing at the whole situation. 

Namjoon swivels in his seat to defend himself. “Well I- I- You see- … ah fuck it.” 

You chuckle, holding your cheek in pain from smiling. Yoongi’s head turns, eyebrow quirking at you. “Whatchya laughing at, window girl?” Your features straighten, slowly sinking in your seat at his comment. 

“Ah, lighten up on her Yoongs. She’s just a kid.” Your head perks up. 

“Excuse me?!” 

“You’re excused.” Jungkook adds in, while continuing to rip Taehyung from Jimin’s hair. 

“Bitch, I’m twenty-five!” 

He smirks. “Oh really? Ya don’t look a day past twelve.” Hip Hop wannabe boy pops into the conversation, while snatching the Coke from Yoongi’s hand. 

“Fucking- you do this every time, Hoya.” 

“CAN I GET A ‘HOOOYEAHHH!?’” 

“ALL OF YOU, GET OUT OF MY STORE!” Jin stands, pushing the rest of you out the door in a group. Before you know it, you’re back out into Korea’s sweating summer days, with six other men tagged along. 

 The streets are quiet, all except for one voice. 

“So, anybody down to fuck?” They all groan and yell out in unison, except for you.

"JIMIN"

[taintedenigma]

Right now I’m sitting next to my grandmas in the hospital after buying her some bananas, mangoes and tropical juice. Life has been hard since I came from Sierra Leone. Sierra Leone had its high and lows as I was sad about my grandmas decline but was able to rest a lot, eat alot and party without weed lol. It was a good time and also go to the building site of my grandmas house which we are rebuilding. However as I have come back I’ve seen her struggle from her bed to the commode, to use a dimmer frame to the front door and not even able to stand up by herself. Her birthday was sad for me her 82nd just a week and a day ago where I saw her frailer then I have in a long time. She wasn’t able to do what she used to do we always go to a restaurant but she couldn’t this year. On Tuesday she bleed about 5 cups of blood with her stools. Lucky I was. Working from home when the carer called me and a&e came. I was strong until we got into the ambulance and small tears came down. When we got to the hospital it as heavy tears for me I was a mess. She kept saying the end has come and we have to part. She told me I’m very brave and strong. As well as she loves me very much. It was bittersweet as during our time in the emergency room I got a call from the scandalous bastard tenancy officer confirming they have updates the database and transferred the tenancy to my name. My grandma was pleased for me as she wanted me to have the house. My mum had work and I pled for her to finish as it was only to 2pm. It was sad seeing my grandma ask every doctor whether she was going to die that night. I believed she wouldnt but she was in strong doubt. But I knew the God i believed in have other plans because he is merciful loving and great. They did many tests and that night gave her 3 bags of blood sadly she bled again on Wednesday so the gave her another bag that evening. I had difficult conversations with the doctor regarding where she would want to die at home or in the hospital as well as if she can go to a nursing home temporary whilst they possibly set up stuff at home if she was able to go back there. The consultant doctor was lovely, honest and understanding reassuring me that we wouldn’t have to pay more than we already are as my grandma was already paying for extra care hours as well as the nasty adult health and social care team being reluctant to provide a new bed as she was now sleeping in the living from when returning from my mums house after Christmas. The bed was incredibly low even I would’ve strained. Being blessed she has become stable but of course extremely tired today as yesterday she was not able to eat for 24 hours due to not knowing if they needed to do further scans or surgery which really wasn’t an option to be done. I came in early this morning after returning my equipment to my job that I hated and hated more as the refused to put me in garden leave and only heave me the last two days of my notice of due to see how puffy my eyes were on Wednesday from Tuesday. On Wednesday I had to attend an eye test and do a zoom intro for my data analyst course and today I did my eyelashes due to not being able to visit till mid afternoon. My mum has been so strong and still putting the fun in dysfunctional saying jokes which no one laughs at but trying to lighten the mood. She was strong on Tuesday but cried heavy but for a short time on Wednesday when I told her the discussions with the doctor upon her arrival. She remembered first going to my grandmas house when I was a baby and when my grandma and great grandma arrived at the hospital. Then my grandma was recently released from mental hospital and my great grandma adamant my mum should t let my grandma hold me. But my grandma may have schizophrenia she’s never been senseless or careless with other and carried me carefully even with her shakes. My family is not perfect but they’re guilt of so much love, light and kindness that is never échange they have made me the gracious person I am today.

It’s been an emotional rollercoaster I cried endlessly on Tuesday a little on Wednesday and not at all yet on Thursday but it’s only 18:04 as I write this. I’m literally like superwoman sometimes I feel immortal because I keep going even when I fall down. Because I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Period

[august-atwood]

I posted 232 times in 2022

That's 232 more posts than 2021!

9 posts created (4%)

223 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@frankieking

@raj-veerapen

@amaya-veerapen

@penned-cbarbosa

@chris-grimaldi

I tagged 231 of my posts in 2022

#t: frankie - 118 posts

#t: raj - 35 posts

#p: frankie - 20 posts

#t: amaya - 18 posts

#o: amaya - 17 posts

#swwedding - 15 posts

#p: celeste - 7 posts

#p: chris - 6 posts

#p: zari - 6 posts

#p: xavier - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 97 characters

#((and they're going to be like uhhhh about it because auggie doesn't know if amaya knows or not))

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

@frankieking

Happy Birthday, babe!

I cannot wait to celebrate you & celebrate with you all weekend. I hope you like your presents and don’t think they’re too cheesy.

Love you! Your Auggie

Contents

Suitcase backpack (with 3 packing cubes) that fits under an airplane seat

Daisy passport & credit card holder

Not A Girl t-shirt

SDCC selfie printed on a canvas

2 notes - Posted September 1, 2022

#4

First Not-Date | Frauggie

Featuring: August & Frankie @frankieking​ Location: The Black Keys Time: The night before the Thomeste wedding Mentions: Raj @raj-veerapen​ ​Notes: Raj was working at the same time as August, so I imagine he witnessed everything that happened before August took their break.

--FRANKIE-- What does one wear to meet someone they've already made a date with for the first time? It's the age of technology. Come on, Frankie, pull yourself together. In their 20-something some odd years, they haven't fully discovered the ability to do this. This being meeting someone they're kind of interested in but too chicken shit to really put themselves out there. They blame their grandmother. Obviously, raising Frankie wasn't and couldn't have been easy. Between their constant desire to learn and need for stimulation and the troubles they had caused in their younger years, grandma King had her hands full with young Frankie. But oh how they miss her now. After going through several outfits, they settled on a Blink 182 cropped top and black biker shorts with doc Martens on their feet.  There was no time for updos or anything else. The curls would have to do and hopefully, the lighting at the bar would be kind to them. Once they had arrived, Frankie immediately approached the bartop and leaned in to kiss Raj on the cheek. "Hi. I'm here. Well, obviously I'm here. Why would I say that? Do I look okay? I brought a ring light with me. Don't ask. Do you even know what a ring light is? Oh!" Raj began backing away and Frankie noticed August standing behind him. "You heard all of that, didn't you?"

--AUGUST-- August was both excited and a bit nervous about going to the wedding with Frankie. It would kind of be their first date. They didn't know anyone who went to a wedding on a first date. Of course they told Raj all about their conversation with Frankie and how it ended up with them agreeing to go to the wedding together. August just left out all the bits about Mission Parent Trap. They didn't even notice when Frankie came into the bar because they were helping a customer, but when they heard Frankie talking, August knew who it was. They had seen Ship-Wrecked, and they had seen a few episodes of Frankie's entertainment show. Between serving people, they glanced over and heard what Frankie said about a ring light. August chuckled a little and gave Frankie a wave. "I heard the last half of it," they grinned. Frankie was even cuter in person, which August didn't think was possible. "Hi. In-person."

--FRANKIE-- Frankie watched Raj disappear into the wild from the corner of their eye. It was so dad-like it was actually comical. A chuckle escaped their lips and they shook their head as if telling him from a distance they'd get him somehow. And well, they were going to go through with that promise at the wedding. Setting their entire focus and gaze on August, they slipped onto a stool and grinned. There was something so refreshing about August. They were outgoing and bold which were two things Frankie struggled with. One would think that being on E! every evening would help with that but Frankie was one of those extroverted introverts. That's how most people described them. "Ah, so the ring light part? I got you one. To show off your face. People will love it..." Their words trailed off for a bit, finding themselves caught up in the said nice face. "Hello. Live and in color! How's your night going?"

--AUGUST-- "Oh! The ring light is for me. It's for the TikTok stuff, right?" August asked. They got so caught up in flirting with Frankie that they forgot they were going to help with the account stuff. As soon as Frankie sat down, August filled up a glass with ice water and handed it over. "It's better now," they said, giving a flirty smile. August knew Frankie was sober and would never suggest a cocktail, however August had a strong mocktail game. "Do you want something fancy to drink? No alcohol in it," they promised. "Just tell me what kinds of flavors you like, and I'll make something up."

--FRANKIE-- "Yeah! Get you those followers and that creator fund flowing." Frankie had become invested in wanting to help August get to their goals but it also helped how great they were. "Oh God, there they go again." Frankie chuckled, bringing the glass to their lips to hide the obvious grin on their face. It was nice of them to remember the sobriety. Frankie appreciated that so much that they found themselves staring again. "Um..." Tucking a curl behind their ear, Frankie cleared their throat, setting the glass down. "Thank you. I'd love something fancy. Pineapple and coconut? Or Mango? Something Tropical. I can pretend we're on the island after all."

--AUGUST-- August laughed a little bit, but they were glad for the help. Any help would be good and would get them one step closer toward their goal of being a full-time traveler and blogger. "You had to know that was coming," they grinned and watched the look on Frankie's face. The way they got bashful was even cuter than how August imagined it. "You're welcome. Tropical flavors are the best. I can absolutely whip something up for you. Something blended? It's warm out." August grabbed the blender along with some pineapple juice, coconut cream, and ice. They blended it all together for a virgin piña colada. And in the glass, August swirled a bit of strawberry puree before pouring the piña colada in. Then they garnished it with a slice of pineapple and a maraschino cherry. "Here we go. A virgin Lava Flow. If you hate it, I'll make you something else."

--FRANKIE-- "I did and yet there go my cheeks! Right on time." Frankie kept their glass of water near, choosing to sit on their knees to lean in slightly and get a good look at August at work. Something about the whole scenario was very attractive to them and it was probably obvious considering they're gaze never tore away from August. "Oo yes blended sounds amazing." When the drink had been prepared and brought to them, Frankie moved to sit back down on their bottom. "How can I hate the most beautiful thing I've ever seen?!" They chuckled and then gathered some of the cocktail on to the straw before bringing it to their lips for a taste. "Oh my gosh..." Frankie then took one nice, long sip. "So good!! Thank you!! I think I'll have to come in every time you're working."

--AUGUST-- They looked at Frankie's cheeks and grinned. August just wanted to reach out and feel how warm they were when they blushed. "You're so fucking cute," they grinned. It was hard to focus with Frankie watching them, but August was determined to show off a little bit and make sure there was a fancy and delicious drink to put in front of Frankie. While it wasn't a date, they could still flirt. "It's nothing. Just a drink I learned how to make in Hawaii. I'm really glad you like it, though." August grinned widely when Frankie said they might have to come in every time they worked. "I wouldn't be opposed to that. Though you're probably busy with your own work."

--FRANKIE-- Truly, Frankie can't remember the last time they felt so flustered or rather, anyone flustered them.  It was like they had met their match in August which, in this case, wasn't a bad thing. Biting their bottom lip at the compliment, they found themselves completely smitten with the bartender. "It is waayyyy better hearing you say it." It was almost too easy, flirting with August and talking to them as if they had been doing this forever. "And this is so impressive! But yeah, you made me forget all about work." Frankie chuckled before taking another sip. "I'll  come by when I wrap up." The determination in their voice was evident. Frankie just wanted to see them again. "You know, help you with your blog, bother Raj, state at your cute butt. The usual. And maybe you can take me out for a burger. As gratitude for the blog, of course. No other hidden reason."

--AUGUST-- It was August's turn to blush. They smiled at Frankie and tried to play it off cool, but they were really glad their flirting was successful. It would be impossible not to like Frankie. It wasn't just that they were beautiful, but they were cool, funny, and witty. "Did I? Well, go me," they chuckled. "You can come by anytime. I'll just make sure you know my schedule." August thought Frankie's determination was so cute. They were just as determined to see the other again. "You think my butt is cute, eh? But yeah, no other reason than helping me with my blog." August felt like their smile would never go away in Frankie's presence. "A burger with no ulterior motive. With burgers, we also have to get milkshakes, right?"

--FRANKIE-- Frankie continued enjoying their drink, sipping from the tiny cocktail straw, brown eyes on August as they spoke. "Oh, Raj is going to kill me for being here so often." They giggled softly before taking a break from the beverage. "What? Its a cute butt!! And yea super important. That blog of yours." Frankie smirked, enjoying August's company. Raj was so right. They'd be sure to sing his praises later. "A no ulterior motive burger. Yes with milkshakes and fries. Helps with the business chatter...”

--AUGUST-- “Will he?” August wondered, grinning a bit. “Maybe his plan is working too well,” they chuckled. “Thank you. Thank you very much,” August said and shook their hips a bit. “Mhm. Totally. The blog is super important. As is TikTok.” They were just happy for any excuse to see Frankie. Raj was totally right about them. Frankie was adorable and perfect for them. “That sounds like a great Business Meeting date.”

--FRANKIE-- "I mean, what if I distract you?" Frankie couldn't help but laugh at August moving their hips. "Oh my God. Has anyone ever told you that you're a ham?" Frankie then rested their cheeks on their hands, propping their self up by their elbows. It was like being back in high school again. August was too cute for words and quick with the comebacks. It was nice talking to someone who could easily keep up with them. "And you have to walk me home. Its part of the business transaction protocol..."

--AUGUST-- “I can still do my job and talk to customers, even though I just want to talk to you all night,” August smiled. “Every day of my life,” they laughed and watched Frankie lean their face on their hands. “Is it too much to tell you again how fucking cute you are?” They asked and shook their head. Frankie was someone new, but the way they got along felt like they knew each other forever. It was so refreshing. “I assume holding hands is standard business transaction protocol as well?”

--FRANKIE-- "Oh, gosh. You're killing me." Frankie's voice was just above a whisper, unable to contain themselves much longer. "Well, it's true. You should model with that ham-esque personality of yours." Frankie bowed their head slightly and giggled, their face completely on fire. "It is. It is too much but I'll take it because you're really charming and you remember things like not to give me alcohol..." Frankie's gaze then flickered up to meet August's "Oh absolutely. You have to make sure your business partner is safe. Maybe even do one of those moves where you snake your arm around my waist. To make sure I don't fall into a puddle or something."

--AUGUST-- August wasn’t trying to kill Frankie. Maybe just make them swoon a little bit. “Oh, I don’t think I could ever do that,” they chuckled. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me charming before, but I’ll take it! And of course I remembered. It’s kind of an important thing.” The last thing August wanted to do was ruin anyone’s sobriety. You don’t have to drink to have a good time. they thought. Ironic coming from someone who makes money on the drunkenness of strangers.  “What kind of business partner would I be if I let you fall into a puddle? A shitty one, for sure.”

--FRANKIE-- Frankie couldn't help the wide grin pulling at the corner of their lips. "I feel like you'd be better than you think. Maybe you can model for me!" And once again the heat rose against their cheeks. "Oh God, the way that must have sounded..." Frankie chuckled, shaking their head some. "And you're definitely charming so I'll tell you a few times to remind you." Frankie was so smitten at this point, hearing August talk about the importance of sobriety. "You wouldn't believe how many people our age don't get it. They think it's okay to "cheat" a little or whatever. They don't understand." They nodded, smile growing even more. "I want to know more about you. Like, okay...if you could be anywhere right now, where would that be? And what are some of your pet peeves?" They took another sip. "And when you walk me home, you can hang out a bit longer? To discuss more business."

--AUGUST-- “I would, but I don’t think behind this bar is a great runway. I don’t think it sounded that weird,” August laughed. They loved Frankie’s smile so much. It was big and genuine, and they wanted to see it on them all the time. “Thank you,” they grinned some more. August shook their head at the idea of ‘cheating’ on sobriety. “It’s an all-in kind of thing. They don’t get that cheating a little doesn’t happen. I promise that every time you come here to see me, well and Raj, I will make you fancy mocktails.” August smiled at the rapid questions about themself. “More about me? Okay, if I could be anywhere right now, it would be New Zealand. I just really want to go there, but the flight is out of my budget right now. Um, pet peeves are talking with a mouthful of food and blowing noses at the table,” they scrunched their nose. “Yes, I think that would be nice to stay a bit longer. Discuss the private stuff,” August smiled. They loved that they were already planning a second date, even though they technically didn’t have a first one yet.

--FRANKIE-- "Okay, we'll save that for our business date, then."  Frankie chuckled, glad that they were able to make August laugh. It was such a nice feeling knowing their company was enjoying having them there. The most interesting thing about all of this is how not once has Frankie overthought anything. There hasn't been an instance of doubt or cynicism. From the very first message, August had already shown just how genuine they were. Frankie couldn't help but beam at the thought of  August taking the time to tend to them and make them a mocktail every time Frankie decided to drop in.  "I love that. I'll cherish every single one!" Listening to August's answers, Frankie's smile never faltered. "Oh! New Zealand is top of my list because of Lord of the Rings! It looks gorgeous. I have a feeling you'll be able to cross that off your list in no time." The pet peeves made Frankie stick their tongue out and cringe. "Gross. No, thanks. Definitely not a favorite of mine either." Even the trivial questions weren't awkward. "Perfect. I think we'll be perfect business partners, then." Frankie had been leaning in the entire time, taking in their new friend and everything they had to say that they hadn't noticed someone trying to grab August's attention. "I think you have a customer. Go, go, I'm not going anywhere.”

--AUGUST-- "Sounds like the perfect time to show off," August chuckled. They didn't know if it was the fact that this wasn't technically a date or if it was just Frankie being Frankie that made this first meeting wonderful and not awkward. They were usually awful at first meetings, but Frankie seemed to be having a good time. "I'll have to come up with some creative ones so you don't get bored," they grinned. "Yes! That's exactly why I want to go to New Zealand. I mean, there are other reasons to go to the amazing country, but Lord of the Rings is among them. And I'll check out Australia, too when I'm in that part of the world," they said. August was happy they had similar pet peeves. It was always nice to have that stuff in common. "I think so, too." August opened their mouth to say something else when a customer grabbed their attention. "Okay, good." They turned to the next person and made their drinks. August actually ended up making several drinks for several people before being able to turn their focus back to Frankie. "Hello again," they grinned and topped off Frankie's water. "I get to take my break as soon as the next bartender comes in for the late shift. Do you want to come back to the break room with me then and show me the ring light and stuff?"

--FRANKIE-- Frankie's face was beginning to hurt from all the smiling and they were starting to realize that was probably going to be the norm when August was around or texting them. They didn't mind. This was actually such a nice feeling. "Perfect. And honestly, I don't think it's possible to grow bored around you so there's that" When August went off to work, Frankie decided to answer some work e-mails but not without stealing a glance or two. It was impossible not to and it made them slightly nervous thinking just how drawn they seemed to be to August. When they returned, Frankie lit up and locked their phone before setting it to the side. "Hi! Thanks! I like watching you. You're good at your job. I can see them fawning over you." They winked at August and then nodded at their little plan. "I love that idea.  I already began setting up your Tik Tok so we just have to add some things and make the first post. " But really, Frankie just wanted to spend more time with them.

--AUGUST-- "Challenge accepted. One of these days, I'll purposely bore you," August teased. Between drinks, August would steal glances at Frankie. Their nose was buried in their phone, doing whatever they were doing. They just hoped they weren't sending out a SOS to someone to save them. August felt certain that their first meeting was going well, though. Finally, when they were able to return to Frankie, they grinned. "You think so? Thank you. There's much more fawning at my other job. But I also wear very tight clothes over there. And sometimes mesh shirts," they chuckled. "Oh really? Fantastic! I'm so grateful you're helping me out." August saw the next bartender come in, and they pointed it out to Raj and the manager on duty. "I'm taking my break!" August took off the half-apron around their waist and came out from behind the bar. "Shall we?" they asked, holding out their hand to help Frankie off the barstool.

--FRANKIE-- Frankie laughed and shouted out to August as they moved around. "You'll be wasting your time." It was funny watching them. All of this seemed so effortless. August was definitely a people person and the patrons loved every single moment. Perhaps Frankie was one of them now. The thought made them chuckle to themselves. "I need to visit you there too, then." Full of relief that the next bartender was ready to begin, Frankie grabbed their phone, tossed it into their bag and the boxed ring light. When August offered their hand, Frankie didn't think anything of it, taking it immediately so that they can step off the stool and the moment Frankie's hand was in August's, they felt a tiny twinge that they had never felt before. It was an unexplainable spike in energy and for a quick second, they wondered if it was the environment. Was it the ambiance? The music? The excitement? It was enough for Frankie to selfishly keep their hand there and they looked up at August with a grin. "Lead the way." They only hope August wouldn't let go until they got to the break room.

--AUGUST-- August smiled when Frankie said they would visit them at Lookout. "Definitely visit there! It's in the Castro. Big, fun gay bar," they grinned. The moment August's took Frankie's hand, they knew they were a goner. Just the simple touch felt like an electric shock to their heart in the best possible way. While they kept telling themself it wasn't a date, August was a bit bold and they laced their fingers with Frankie's as they walked to the break room. It was a short walk, but they wanted to maximize on the time. "Let's sit here," they said and picked one of the rectangular tables where they could sit next to each other.

--FRANKIE-- When their fingers laced together, it was obvious the wedding would be a date, date as Frankie told Celeste they'd try to figure out and while that would usually send them into some headspin, right now they were hyperfocused on how being so close to August made them feel. IT was confusing and invigorating all at once and yet, Frankie was convinced there was no better feeling. "Hm?" They let out a breath they didn't even realize they were holding. It was the best kind of adrenaline rush. how did they manage without this before? "Oh!" Frankie giggled and sat beside August. "Okay.  So I---" Frankie pulled out their phone, still slightly out of breath, and passed it to August, opening up the screen to the Tik Tok. "I'll text you all the details but that's what it looks like and we'll post a simple video and introduce you. You're cute so you'll definitely get a following. Is it hot in here?" Frankie fanned themselves  and bit their bottom lip, choosing to unbox the ring light, turning it on for August to see. except doing so really amplified how beautiful August was. "Oh...you're. Here let me fix this one curl..." Their words trailed off as they tucked August's hair behind their ear and smiled. "I think the camera really likes you..."

--AUGUST-- They grinned and sat next to Frankie, scooting closer to them. For... business reasons. August took the phone and looked between the screen and back to Frankie. They weren't paying as much attention as they should have been. Frankie was so gorgeous and wonderful. "Ha, I hope I get a following for more than my looks," they grinned. "Oh, it's a bit warm in here, yeah." They didn't know if it was just because they were nervous and excited about being near Frankie or if the A/C in the room was busted again. "Whoa, that's brighter than I thought it would be." The little ring light was probably going to make a big difference. August pressed their lips together for a moment as Frankie tucked their hair behind their ear. "The camera..." they muttered and leaned a little closer to Frankie. Before their brain could even comprehend what their heart wanted to do, August's name was called out by a co-worker who burst into the break room. 'August! What's in a Cuba Libre!?' "What?" they asked, pulling away from Frankie. "Dude. It's a fucking rum and coke with a lime wedge. Isn't Raj out there?" Now that the moment was completely ruined and Kevin disappeared again, August cleared their throat. "Um, sorry about that. So, um... ring light. And - and an introductory video."

--FRANKIE-- The math wasn't mathing. These things take time and precision and a lot of overthinking that would send Frankie into their usual overload. Thinking like that ended with Frankie needing a moment or ten to recover from the literal exhausting of trying to socialize more than the trivial stuff. But this? This was easy.  they've been saying that for three and a half days now. Every little ding on their phone made them smile like an idiot and what happened back there? With the hand holding? That was new! But not once did they overthink. Not once did they feel as if this wasn't making sense. Frankie was convinced Raj knew witchcraft or something. And even though their lips were moving, Frankie's brain wasn't processing much. They had just activated their social battery. But everything else seemed to be focused on August and when August leaned in closer, Frankie followed suit. It definitely felt like second nature. Closing their eyes, Frankie's heart sped up only for it to drop into their stomach the moment they heard someone burst in. If this were a show, they'd surely laugh at the situations the main characters had been placed in.  This moment, however, was killing them. When the bartender left, Frankie couldn't help but laugh softly. "I don't care about the ring light. I'm sorry." Frankie snorted, letting out another fit of laughter. Without further hesitation, Frankie leaned in and kissed August on the cheek before whispering, "You owe me."

--AUGUST-- Normally, August wouldn't try to kiss someone on the first date, or first not-date, but being next to Frankie and talking with them just felt right. The funny thing was... Frankie seemed to be going in for the kiss, too. Still, August knew they needed to calm their heart down before it leaped out of their chest. "I don't care about it either," August laughed a little and they reached out for Frankie's hand again. If they weren't going to kiss, they at least wanted to hold the other's hand. After Frankie kissed their cheek, they blushed bright red. August was sure it was immediately obvious, and all smoothness they may have had before went out the window. "I- yes. Yes, absolutely. Add it to my, uh... list for being a good business partner."

See the full post

3 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

#3

Outfit for Celeste & Thomas’ Wedding

4 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

#2

August was glad Raj was back from the island. They missed their work dad and watched the whole show, though not week-to-week. They had been traveling a bit while the show filmed and aired. That’s what stopped them from applying. But now that Raj was back, August felt like they were on the show. They heard about what really happened and knew who everyone was. One night they were working at the jazz bar, but Raj wasn’t there. The moment they saw one of the Ship-mates walk in, August smiled widely. “Hi! If you’re looking for Raj, he’s not in tonight. But I’m happy to grab you a drink.”

31 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

IG DM -> Frankie

August: Hi, I don't even know if you check your DMs because of creeps, but maybe my blue checkmark will get through?

August: I work with Raj. He told me to slide into your DMs.

August: He didn't say that exactly. I don't think he knows what that means. Anyway... hello, I'm August.

54 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[rommahh]

I Carry It In My Heart

Word count: 4.7k

I thank everyone who read part one, it meant so much to me to see the love it got. Heres part two, please comment, like reblog, whatever I just wanna hear your thoughts! I also plan on making smaller blurbs of this universe with fratrry. I have plans for a graduation, wedding, babies, and other random blurbs of their lives. Much love, R.

Part One

Y/N’s drive home was quiet. She drove the whole six hours just listening to her thoughts. Thinking about the future of a relationship she had so much hope for. She wanted this relationship so much and seeing Harry before leaving campus reassured her that maybe just maybe, Harry wanted what she wanted too.

Six hours went by and Y/N finally arrived home. She lived on a very secluded farm with her mom, dad, grandparents, uncles/aunts, and cousins. Everyone lived along the property making the family tight knit. She was scared to reveal to her family that she wasn't with Harry anymore. He grew to be a very important part of the family. Everyone saw how beautiful Harry and Y/N’s relationship was. They could see how close they were and how they just shared a really unique connection with each other.

Getting out of her car, Y/N took a moment to stretch her legs before she was bombarded by her family. Hands were pulling her into hugs, kisses were being planted on her cheek- she never felt more loved in her life. She didn't realize she was crying until her mom held her face between her hands wiping the free flowing tears from the young girl's face. The family left the mother and daughter alone to reconnect.

“What is wrong with my baby?” Her mother cradled her face as she sobs.

“Mommy, we broke up. Me and Harry broke up and- and i'm exhausted from exams, and i'm so hungry!” Y/N’s hysterics caused her mom to chuckle. She helped grab Y/N’s belongings from the trunk and then led the girl into the house. As Y/N wiped the tears from her face she hiccuped trying to catch her breath.

With her bags in her room, Y/N sat at the kitchen table as her mom placed a bowl of chilli in front of her. Her mom sat beside her rubbing her back encouraging her to eat and regain some energy.

“Tell me what happened hon?”

“We got in a really bad fight after he kissed another girl. He basically said that I was overreacting. I tried to tell him that my reaction was merely based on how I feel about our future relationship. He laughed at me and said he wasn't thinking about the future of our relationship. Tha-” She choked up again “-that this wasn't a future he wanted.” Y/N sniffled into her food as her mom guided food into her mouth.

“It's ok hon. Let me tell you something, you and Harry will be fine. It may seem like this is the end but it's not. You will get through this because you guys were made for each other. From the way that you guys know each other's thoughts to the way that you both can read each other with no problem- you two were meant to be. Me and your pa went through our own issues but look at us now. We are solid. Baby, you two will be solid.” Y/N’s mom smoothed the hair on her daughter's head smiling at the young girl.

Y/N thought about her mothers words. Hearing her mom say those things about her relationship made her feel a little better. Her mother kissed her on the forehead and told her to get to bed and get some rest.

Y/N walked into her room and immediately her eyes were drawn to the gift Harry got her. She didn't remember bringing it in her room but there it sat in all of its glory. The gold wrapping paper on the box contrasted with the dark wood of her dresser. The envelope adorned with Harry's name written in cursive.

She was tempted to open the gift but at the same time she couldn't bring herself to even touch the gift. She kept thinking about the moment she shared with Harry in the parking lot. How he made time to see her before she left. How he found time to get her a gift and bring it to her. She grabbed the gift, shoving it into the top drawer of the dresser.

As Y/N lied in her bed that night, wrapped in a blanket Harry bought her, she couldn't run her mind off. She wanted to be with Harry but she was scared of his lack of commitment. She doesn't understand his sudden lack of commitment. She mentioned marrying him in the future and he freaked out on her. It hurt to know that in a quick second, he could change his mind.

Closing her eyes she went to sleep thinking about her brown haired, green eyed boy whose heart she carries with her at all times.

Y/N felt better to be back home on the farm. This semester had mentally drained her to the point where she felt like she had nothing within herself to give. She sat in the barn behind the house watching the chickens run around as she remembered the first time Harry visited the farm.

“No Harry, you just grab them from underneath. Like cup your hands and grab!” Y/N hollered to her boyfriend as he chased chickens around trying to grab them. He couldnt get his hands on a chicken but hearing his girlfriend laughing made it all worth it. Here he was dressed in overalls while chasing chickens.

“Bubs, I cant get one.” He pouted walking back over to Y/N.

“You don't have the talent I have.” She walked over to a resting chicken and grabbed it with ease. Tucking the chicken under her arm, she scratched the top of the chicken's head and walked over to where Harry was standing in shock.

“You are something else!” She set the chicken down, watching it run away. Harry grabbed her arm, twirling her around to face him. She placed her arms atop his shoulders, fingers playing with the small curls of his head. His arms wrapped around her waist squeezing her close to him.

It was a beautiful morning on the farm. Fall break on full blast and instead of Harry going back home, he just decided to come see where his girlfriend lives. They were sophomores now, entering almost a year of dating. This had been one the best almost years of their lives.

Harry placed a gentle kiss on her plush lips. She smiled, kissing him back.

“I love you Harry.” She said, staring at his eyes. His eyes opened wide. He stepped back from her and then started jumping up and down out of happiness. He threw her over his shoulder and started running through the blades of grass like the chickens he was trying to catch earlier. Setting her down on her feet she giggled at his antics.

“I cant believe you just said that. Im so fucking in love with you. So in love.” He said squishing her cheeks together, puckering her lips and smacking a wet kiss on her mouth.

“Ew Harry gross.” she giggled as he continued to place wet slobbery kisses over her face.

Y/N was so happy to bring Harry home. She wanted to show her family this new boy that had completely captivated her heart. He fit in with her family perfectly, making jokes, helping with dinner, playing with the little ones. He was family.

Walking into the house, she was greeted with the familiar smell of her grandma's famous peach crumble. She went into the kitchen sitting at one the stools watching her grandmother whip around the kitchen baking a slew of desserts.

“Hey lovebug, you go out and see your chickies?” Her grandmother asked, never losing focus of what she was doing.

“I did, they are all growing up so quick.” Y/N laid her head down on the table staring out of the window. Head fuzzy with anxiety and muddled thoughts.

“What happened to Harry?” Y/N’s head popped off of the table as she looked at her grandmother in confusion.

“How did you know something was up?”

“You're my grandbaby, I know everything about you. You've also been moping around my house so I knew something had happened.” She took a bowl down from the cabinets scooping a hot piece of peach crumble in the bowl and placed it in front of Y/N.

“Yeah, me and Harry split up. We just had a bad fight that put us in a weird place. He cheated on me.” She scooped crumble into her mouth trying to distract herself from her sadness.

“Oh love bug. I'm really sorry about that. Did you guys talk at all?” Placing a pie in the oven, her grandmother took a seat next to Y/N stealing a bite of crumble.

“He actually said goodbye to me before I came home. He gave me a Christmas gift too. I don't know, we didn't really say much. I miss him though. He was drunk when he cheated on me, which isn't an excuse but I think he was taken advantage of. I'm not mad about him cheating on me. I was mad at how he reacted to me. Like I was in the wrong for thinking about our relationship in the long run.”

“I understand. Can I be honest with you?” Crumble gone now, Y/N turned her body to face her grandmother. She shook her head to say yes. “You and Harry will be ok. It feels like the end right now but it isn't. It really isn't. I watched you two all of that one break and I saw a resilient couple who were going to go so far. This bump in the road can be fixed. Baby that boy looks at you like you are the whole universe.” You blushed at her words.

“What do I do then?”

“Well, I think you guys should enjoy this break. Take the time to reflect on what your relationship was and what it could be. Harrys going to go home and be surrounded by family as you are now, just let yourself enjoy that time. When he comes back for school, meet up again and talk. You both are adults- you know what to do.” You took in your grandmother's words. She always knew what to say.

“Why is it that you and mom always give me advice over food?” You laughed as she winked at you kissing you on the cheek.

“Food always makes people listen.”

When Wednesday finally arrived, Harry couldn't have been happier to go home. He had been on campus all alone and just feeling like shit. Maybe it was karma for how he treated Y/N. His heart felt hollow and even though he saw her before she left campus, he knew they still weren't ok. He wanted nothing more than to just be ok with his girl. The girl who makes him feel happiest on his darkest days. He doesn't understand how he would have ruined something so perfect.

At his gate at the airport, Harry sat staring at his phone waiting for something. He didn't know what he was waiting for. He didn't deserve anything, especially because of how bad he messed up. He didn't plan on seeing Y/N last friday before she left but he didn't want to go home without seeing her face. He also spent all night writing her a letter that laid down his thoughts. He also wanted to give her a gift. He bought it at the beginning of the semester back home. He knew it was perfect for her the second he saw it.

“Welcome to British Airways, we are now boarding all priority passengers.”

Harry stood up collecting his carry on and started walking to the line forming in front of the gate. He checked his phone again. Nothing.

As the line moved forward. He checked again. Nothing.

He scanned his ticket. Checked again. Nothing.

Situating himself in his seat on the airplane, Harry didn't even bother checking his phone knowing nothing was there. He clicked his seatbelt over his lap and opened the window beside him to look outside.

His phone buzzing pulled him out of his thoughts. His breath hitched, heart lurching. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he turned the screen on.

To: Harry, from: Bubs<3

Have a safe flight Harry

Harry's eyes welled with tears.

To: Bubs<3, from: Harry

Thank you, love. It means a lot.

To: Harry, from: Bubs<3

I miss you Harry

A few of those tears tipped over the edge now rolling down his face.

To: Bubs<3, from: Harry

I miss you so much baby

And that was it. But that was all Harry needed to feel something again.

Y/N didn't know what compelled her to text Harry. She knows her grandmother told her to take some time but she just wanted to reach out to him. She wanted him to know that she was still here. She was still thinking of him and still wanted this. Whatever ‘this’ was.

Christmas eve came quickly, Y/N’s house filled with family members, food, and little children running around wreaking havoc. Y/N was sitting in her room staring at the drawer where the gift from Harry hid. She was scared to open it. Pushing that fear to the side, she walked over the drawer opening it and grabbing the box and envelope. She put the gift in her purse before grabbing her keys. She couldn't open the gift here. She needed to go somewhere quiet.

She said a quick goodbye to her parents and left the house in a hurry. She found herself parked at a small store's parking lot a few miles away from her house. She kept the car on for the heat but turned off the christmas tunes she had playing low in the background.

She opened her purse to pull the envelope out. Carefully ripping the top of the envelope she pulled out a stack of items. In the envelope were four photos and a handwritten letter. She saved the letter for last.

The first photo was of Harry and Y/N sitting on a bean bag in the library. Harry had the camera outstretched above their heads, Y/N with her face buried in a text book. This was taken in their first year during their first exam week. They were not exclusive yet but their friends knew how close they were- there was no one coming between the two of them. Y/N had been so stressed that week so Harry invited her to the library to eat lunch and study together. He helped her through some science homework which helped dramatically on her exam.

The second image was of Harry and Y/N at their favorite restaurant off campus. It was taken during their sophomore year during their one year anniversary. It was the week before spring break and they had just finished a round of midterms. Harry surprised her with a trip to her favorite restaurant. The waiter offered to take the picture because of how adorable the couple looked. In the picture they were holding hands, smiling wide to the camera. Y/N eyes welled up at how happy they looked together.

The third pic was taken during an event on campus at the end of their freshman year. It was a piece and love festival where different clubs hosted fun activities in hopes of promoting unity on campus. In the picture, Harry and Y/N were holding up braided string bracelets with beads that said their partners name. They always wore those bracelets after that day. Y/N looked down at the slightly faded bracelet on her wrist. Harrys name on her wrist reminding her that he is always with her no matter what. Cheesy as it may be but the cheap string with plastic was something she would never part with.

The last picture was taken on Y/N’s farm. It was by the barn where Harry and Y/N were chasing chickens. It was taken from a high angle from afar. Harry had her on his shoulder and they were both visibly laughing. They had matching overalls with embroidery done by Y/N's aunt. On the back of the picture, Y/N could recognize Harry's handwriting as it said, “Your Grandma emailed me this picture when we got back to campus. She said that she couldn't help but take the picture when she saw how happy you looked.” Y/N laughed at his sloppy handwriting and her grandmother's words.

The last piece of the envelope was the letter. Y/N slowly unraveled the folded paper, smoothing out the crinkles. Taking a deep breath she began reading.

Y/N,

In my eyes, our future is filled with love. I see us buying a small house in your home town because I know you love home. I know you also said you may want to live in a city so if our plans were to change, I could see us living in a small apartment, decorated by you of course, with bookshelves that towered to the ceiling and many plush blankets littering the rooms. I see us working hard during the day and enjoying each other during the evening when we come home. I see bubble baths and fun new dinner recipes. I see me bringing you flowers to brighten your day from a long day of work. I see us travelling to all of the places you have pinned on your “for the future” pinterest board. I see us having a small wedding, my family, your family, some friends and that's it. I'd let you do whatever you like for the wedding because I want to see you happy.

I see little ones. Direct copies of you and me running around in the backyard as we try chasing them and tickling them. I see bedtime stories and fun days at the park. Picnics in the meadow and swimming in the lake. Catching chickens and rough housing with the goats. Pasta sauce around the mouth after a good meal. Frozen yogurt with all of the toppings. I see everything with you. There's not a moment where I don't see us together. I think about our graduation and where we will be after graduation.

I see a future with you and I was an ass to say otherwise. You are everything to me. I should be doing more for our relationship like I used to. I want to take you out on more dates and shower you in gifts because you deserve it. I love you so much. Please don't give up on me and all of the memories we've created. I want it all with you.

School has been hurting me pretty bad and I took it out on you. I cheated on you because I was too drunk to think properly. I hurt the only person whose opinion I hold higher than anyone else's. We built a beautiful relationship of trust and boundaries and I ruined it for no reason. I want to do better. Please let me show you that I can do better.

I found this poem that reminded me of you. I know you like poems and this poem speaks for me wholly.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart) i am never without it (anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

Have a lovely break and I hope to be able to see you after.

Love Harry.

His letter left the girl speechless. He said everything she wanted to hear. Looking at her phone she checked the time.

7:36 pm

Its about 12 am in london.

Without a second thought she opened Harry's facetime profile and pressed the call button.

Ring. Ring. Ri-

“Love? Are you alright? Did something happen?” Harry was quick to answer, looking half awake and flustered. Y/N broke down in tears immediately. “Y/N are you ok, baby?”

“Harry.” She wailed. It was embarrassing but all of the pent emotion she was holding in finally breached. She couldn't stop crying. Harry sat up from his laying down position in bed holding the phone closer to his face to inspect his girl.

“It's ok bubs, whatever it is, it's ok. I promise it's ok.” Harry tries consoling the girl. Her tears reduced to small sniffles.

“I read your letter Harry. It's beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I want it all with you too. I've always wanted it with you. Since the day we met Harry.” He let out a watery laugh so overwhelmed with emotions. She wiped her face of tears looking back at the letter next to her.

“Y/N I love you so much. I do. I know I'm not that good at expressing my emotions but I do want a future with you. I'm hurting knowing I hurt the best thing that's ever happened to me.” His tears continued to flow freely.

“It's ok Harry. I'm not mad anymore. I'm not hurt either I promise. I think I was more upset that we were done. I don't want us to be done. I really don't.”

“I don't want us to be done either. I really want to marry you. Maybe not right now but in time I wanna get married.” He paused, wiping his face. “I wanna get married on your farm, maybe put the chickies in little tuxedos.” She giggled at his proposition.

“They would hate you even more if you did that.” They shared a laugh and then some silence. “I guess it's technically Christmas over there huh? Well Merry Christmas H.”

“It is christmas isn't it? Merry Christmas bubs. Did you open the box?” She grabbed the box next to her to show Harry shaking her head. She unwrapped the paper and revealed a box with a logo she wasn't familiar with.

“What's this?” He encouraged her to keep opening the gift. Lifting the top of the box she let out a loud gasp upon seeing a beautiful gold bracelet sitting on a satin pillow. She placed her phone on the phone stand on her dashboard so she could have both hands to look at the bracelet. The bracelet was gold and thin with a nameplate in the middle. Engraved on the nameplate was Harry's name.

“You went silent on me...Do you like it?” Y/N couldn't stop looking at the bracelet in her hand.

“Harry...It's gorgeous. It's so gorgeous.” She whispered. She slid the perfectly fit bracelet on her hand watching it fall in front of her handmade bracelet. The two bracelets adorned her wrist perfectly. “I love you so much H.”

“I love you too, I do. I can't wait to see you in person and talk.” He replies with his heart clenching in a good way, watching his girl smile happily at her gift.

“Om bubby, I'll let you go to sleep. I love you, spend time with your family and then come back to me as the same Harry I fell in love with.” He smiled, whispering goodnight and hanging up.

Going home that night, Y/N’s family watched her come back into the house walking lighter on her feet and looking happier than she did when she came home from school. She showed her bracelet off to her parents as her grandmother made her a plate of food. She smiled at everyone and talked the whole night. Her grandmother watched from afar feeling her heart fill with joy at her granddaughter's happiness.

As Christmas break went on Harry and Y/N continued to keep their relationship moving slowly. Only calling each other once a day and giving each the much needed space to heal with their respective family. Y/N facetimed him on christmas giving him a youtuber esq. Haul of all of her gifts while he laughed at her silliness. He did the same thing with half the enthusiasm.

As move in day approached, Y/N felt herself becoming worried about her relationship. She worried that when she saw Harry, their relationship would slowly deteriorate. Little did she know that she had no reason to be so afraid. Harry was on his flight back to school ready to hug and hold his girl. He was ready to reunite and be the couple they used to be. He was ready to be a better partner for his girl.

“Alright girly, looks like we got everything squished in your car. Are you sure you've got everything?” Y/N’s mom asked sarcastically. Y/N huffed shoving another bag in the passenger seat.

“Yup that should be it.”

“Ok, well you give me a hug and get going.” Y/N rushed into her mom's arms. Her mom kissed her on the forehead and left Y/N and her grandmother to talk on their own.

“Bye grandma, i'm going to miss you.” Her grandmother held her arms tight.

“You get back to campus and see that boy ok? You go and be in love. You too are old enough to know what you want and this relationship is something you obviously both want.”

Kissing her grandma goodbye, she got in her car and started her drive back to school.

It only took Y/N one trip from her car to her dorm to unload all of her belongings. She was able to snag one of the big trolleys to push her things inside. She watched as friends reunited, she even said hi to a few of her friends but her mind was set on one person. She grabbed her wallet and phone from her dorm and left quickly on a journey to get to Harry’s frat.

The air was cool but Y/N felt warm from how quickly she was booking it to Harry. Harry, just like Y/N, immediately left his room to see Y/N. Having not seen her in a month and some of exam week- he couldn't wait to see her. Harry saw Y/N’s familiar face walking down the sidewalk of his frat and he stopped in his tracks. She smiled her bright, beautiful smile before running over to where he stood. Her arms hooked around his neck as his arms adjusted around her waist. He stumbled a bit from the force of her hug but stood his ground nonetheless.

She held him tight, legs bound around his waist, a few stray tears falling from her eyes. He held her just as tightly, hands tightly holding her thighs and back.

“Hi bubby.” She said in his ear, face burrowed in his neck. He set her down and reached for her face.

‘Hi baby.” She blushed at his nickname. They looked into each other's eyes and time froze like it always did between them. Y/N broke theri moment by pulling his face to hers. They kissed like they hadnt kissed in years. To them the time they spent away from each other felt like years. Their lips fit together like puzzle pieces. Pulling apart, Harry stared down at his heart, tears begging to be free. He opened his mouth to say something and she stopped him.

“It's ok Harry. My baby, it's ok. We are ok.”

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

Taglist: marlananicole17

[theflyingfeeling]

how abouttt detective au?:)

Am I making Aleksi a detective, solely because of this outfit? Why, yes I am 😌🔎

~

It's not like Aleksi has had that many cases during his relatively short career as a detective, so the comparison may not be fair. However, this has got to be one of the strangest ones he has ever encountered.

"So where did you last you see your friend?" he asks the four men standing in front of him, fidgeting with their fingers like schoolboys in trouble.

"Right there!" the one with the bass says and points at an empty stool behind a drum kit.

"And then he just went...poof?" Aleksi looks at them sceptically.

"Of course not," they tell him in an uneven choir, their tones ranging from annoyed to desperate.

"So...how exactly did it happen, then?"

"Well, we were practicing balancing our guitars on our fingers, you know, as you do," the blond one with the curls explains.

"N-naturally." What kind of band is this? A circus one?

"And then one hit Olli's head, so we had to take him to emergency room because he couldn't count my fingers correctly," the taller blond one continues. Indeed, the bassist seems to have stitches on his forehead, near the hairline.

"In Olli's defense, you couldn't count your fingers correctly either even though no one had hit you on the head with a guitar," the one with long dark hair comments.

Aleksi looks between the men like a spectator at Wimbledon. They all seem more than eager to tell the story, and Aleksi's not quite sure which one of them is the most reliable narrator.

"So Tommi drove us there, because Joel has no self-preservation and Niko drives like a grandma and-"

"Excuse me?"

"Just accept it, man," the curly-headed one says to the one apparently called Niko.

"At least I can drive a car, unlike you, who, I quote 'doesn't believe in automobiles'."

"What?" exclaims the one called Joel. "What do you mean you don't believe in cars? What the fuck does that even mean?"

Aleksi has a feeling the men are getting slightly off topic.

"I just think things would be simpler if we still used horse carriages," the curly-head says condescendigly.

"And when have you even been on a hor-"

"Gentlemen!" Aleksi interrupts Joel. "I'm afraid we don't have a moment to waste if you wish you find your friend."

"Yeah, sorry, Porko will shut up now," Niko glances at this..Porko, who sticks out his tongue in the most mature manner.

"We got to the emergency room, and the whole place was packed, and they said we'd have to wait for a couple of hours before they would take Olli in," Joel sighs.

"But we didn't have that much!" Porko cries out. "Olli was already on the verge of losing consciousness. He couldn't even see anymore!"

"Umm, actually," Olli says, scratching the back of his neck, "I had just rubbed my eyes too soon after washing them with disinfectant."

How do these guys survive on a daily basis?

Niko continues recalling the events. "They finally took him in at, like, seven, which was when our reservation at Dine Cellar started."

"It's my birthday, you see" Porko winks at Aleksi.

"Congratulations?" Aleksi mumbles, trying to not blush.

"It was my birthday before it was yours, Mr Centre of the Universe," Joel protests, and Aleksi can't help but think that each piece of information he's gathered from these men is more bizarre than the previous.

Niko shoots a deathly glare at the two squabbling men before going on with the story. "And I had to go with Olli because the nurse thought he was scared of medical operations."

"...When in reality I just felt so bad about ruining the evening, and when I feel bad, I often-" Olli paused to take a shaky breath, "I start crying, and I can't help it." He sniffles. "And look what I've done now! Tommi's gone missing, and who knows if we'll find him alive!"

"Naww, you didn't ruin anything, sweetie," Porko pouts at Olli and hugs him to his chest as he sobs.

"Yes, it was, in fact, your guitar smashing on Olli's head that put us in this situation," Niko says dryly. Aleksi crunches his eyebrows, still none the wiser about how their friend disappeared, seemingly into thin air.

"What about the rest of you? Did you stay at the hospital?"

"No, we were starving, so we drove to the closest McDonald's," Joel answers.

"And Joel threw a temper tantrum because they were out of Happy Meal toys," Porko chuckles, still holding Olli close to him while the man kept cuddling to his side.

"Yeah, first of all, what does that have to do with anything?" That is a reasonable question, finally a man of common sense! "Secondly, have you seen the Venom figurine? It's also a nerf gun, come on, how fucking cool is that?" ...Nevermind.

"Anyway," Porko begins again, "Then Niko called and said they were done with Olli's stitches and that they were ravenous as well, so we ordered more meals to go and returned to the hospital to pick up Niko and Olli."

"Yeah, what took you so long though?" Niko squints his eyes.

"Nothing, we were there perfectly in time, don't you remember," Joel mutters, while Porko sucks on his lips, as if to surpress a laughter.

"Well," he pats Joel on the back, "birthday boy here got really bad heartburn after his burger and fries and wouldn't stop whining about it, so Tommi had to drive by his apartment so that he could get his meds."

The events are still nowhere near the actual occurance Aleksi is supposed to be investigating, but by now he is sort of used to it. He wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if the next plottwist included something as crazy as-

"Yeah, and that fucking huge demon pigeon was back on my balcony again!"

...Sure. Why not.

This time Porko does a much poorer effort in holding back his chuckles. "Oh yeah, I forgot about our dear friend Bob. Tommi had to go up Joel's apartment and shoo it away, otherwise Joel wasn't going to let anyone in a five mile radius sleep that night."

"Did Tommi do this willingly?" Aleksi is beginning to wonder if Tommi had known exactly what he was doing when disappearing off the face of earth; perhaps he had just had enough of his friends' tomfoolery. Aleksi certainly isn't going to judge him for it, if that turned out to be the case.

"As willingly as he does anything for his friends," Porko answers with a longing glint in his eye and a palm cluthing his chest. "He's a good man."

"Yeah, unless you touch his drums or anything in his car," Olli adds, with a tone that revealed he has done both, with less than pleasant consequences.

"Then we were all sorta worn out, so we decided to stop by the liquor store," Joel says. "Then we went to get Niko and Olli from the hospital and came back here."

"With the liquor?" Aleksi asks for confirmation.

"Yes," they reply in unison.

Somehow, Aleksi feels like this is a turning point in his investigation.

"Did Tommi drink a lot?"

"We don't keep count, man," Niko smiles at him sarcastically.

"So it's no use asking how much you guys drank?"

"I mean, see for yourself, if you think it'll be of any help," Porko shurgs and gestures towards a table behind the sofa, filled with empty cans and bottles.

"Right. What's the last thing you remember from last night?"

"You really wanna know?" Porko raises his eyebrow at Aleksi and smirks. It's enough clue for Aleksi that no, perhaps he does not want to know.

Suddenly Olli's eyes grow large. "Oh..oh! Oh no!" he cries out, hiding his face in his palms.

"Do you remember something?" Aleksi inquires.

"I do! Oh no! Oh, Tommi!" he exclaims miserably. They all look at him expectantly, like waiting for an oracle to vocalize a prophecy.

"I remember lying there," he points at the sofa, "and seeing how he got up and climbed to the window and he...he jumped!"

A collective gasp escapes the mouths of his friends.

"Why would he do that?" Porko asks, his voice equally sad as Olli's. "He has so much to live for..."

"You know what, I knew it," Joel nods, his eyes glassy. "I heard the sirens this morning, while y'all were still sleeping. I bet they came for him."

"You mean the sirens at half past five this morning? Yeah, that was Porko wheezing while snoring again," Niko says. "Which means..."

Then they all rush to the window and open it to get a better view at the courtyard opening three storeys below them. Luckily, there's no sign of anyone having smacked down on the concrete.

Truly a curious case, Aleksi has to admit: a drummer sitting on his stool in one moment, vanished in the next. If Aleksi manages to solve the mystery, the union of detectives might finally give him the status of-

His train of thought is interrupted when the door opens and a tall man walks in.

"Tommi!"

"Morning," Tommi(?!) says. "What're you looking at, guys? And who are you?" he asks as he sets down his packback and steps over to the drum kit, already averting his focus on his instrument rather than his four friends with their gaping mouths.

"Where did you disappear last night?" Niko is the first one to ask the million dollar question.

"Home?" Tommi looks at him with side eyes and fixes his cap.

"Through the window?" It's Olli's turn to interrogate him.

"Porko had passed out in front of the door and wouldn't move."

"You could've just dragged me out of your way, you weirdo?"

"I rather used the fire ladder than found out what the sticky stuff you were covered in was."

"But why didn't you answer your phone when we called you this morning?" Joel demands to know.

"Left my phone in the car."

"And where did you leave yourself when we came to rang your doorbell, huh? We were really worried about you, man," Niko's voice almost breaks down.

"Guess I was buying breakfast. Seriously, what the hell is this fuss about, guys, are we gonna play or what? And who is that guy?"

The four men exchange embarrassed looks and, as if by silent agreement, Niko takes the ad about Aleksi's detective services they had taken from a bulletin board a few blocks away, rumbles it and tosses it in the rubbish bin.

"He's Joel's new one-nighter," Porko says, and Aleksi turns to look at him with wide eyes. "Bro, you must have been so drunk to not remember those crystal eyes."

"What?!" Joel whisper-shouts at Porko, who nudges him silent.

"He's staying for breakfast, aren't you?" Porko turns to meet Aleksi's stare.

Well. It's not like Aleksi had anything better to do.

[moralesispunk]

Between the sheets

Chapter 5 of the Caramel Latte series

Chapter 4 / masterlist here / chapter 6

Summary: the morning after sharing confessions of love, Marcus begins to worry that you regret the night before.

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, soft smut

A/N: thank you so much for the patience for this chapter! It took me a while to find time to sit down and properly right and edit!

Mornings in the Moreno house were usually quiet. You had noticed this after your first few times staying here when Marcus, who was usually so composed would moan like a small child who was being woken for school before his first cup of coffee. Missy was definitely her father’s daughter, the same glum look on her face for the first hour out of bed.

This morning, you woke surrounded by blankets and pillows and the two snoring Moreno’s still in dream land. Marcus’s arm was draped across your middle, weighing you down to the pillows underneath. You lifted his arm carefully, moving slowly from underneath, before padding to the kitchen and turning on the coffee machine.

As you waited to the mug to fill you sat at the kitchen counter, your mind wandering to the night before. While there was something so domestic about this moment, sitting in the kitchen in your pyjamas waiting for the coffee to pour as the man you loved and his daughter you cared so deeply for were still sound asleep in the next room, you couldn’t stop the weighted feel at the bottom of your stomach.

You knew from the moment you said yes to a date with Marcus that a relationship with him would not be easy to navigate. He was a widowed, single father who had already lived a life before meeting you, while you were younger by the best part of ten years and a string of bad relationships meaning you hadn’t quite lived the family life you thought you would have by now. You loved Marcus and you loved Missy but you weren’t sure what life Marcus wanted from here on or even where you fit into their family.

You were so in your own thoughts you hadn’t heard the sound of Marcus walking into the kitchen, not noticing his presence until his hands were wrapped around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder. You jumped a little and he chuckled against your neck before pressing a kiss.

“Morning, honey.”

“Morning, sleepy,” you turned your head to press a soft kiss against his lips.

You turned in the kitchen stool to watch as Marcus walked over to the coffee machine. His hair was standing in all different directions and his eyes were still half shut as he rubbed one with the heel of his hand. You liked waking up to Marcus like this, in his sleep shorts and t-shirt, his hair messy from sleep and his eyes still not quite awake to the morning sun, straining to see without his glasses. This wasn’t to say he wasn’t just as handsome when he was dressed smarter for work. Some mornings when he had to be up before you he would lean over the bed to give you a kiss good morning, the smell of his clean aftershave filling your senses before his lips had pressed against your head. You didn’t enjoy seeing him like that any less but when he wasn’t quiet awake to the world yet you couldn’t stop your chest from warming at the softness.

You hadn’t noticed you were lost in your own thoughts again until you noticed Marcus staring at you, one eyebrow raised a little.

“What was that?”

He chuckled before lifting the mug you had placed under the coffee machine out, “Where’s your head this morning? The coffee is cold already.”

“Oh,” you stood from the stool and walked to take the mug from his hand, pouring the now cold coffee out, “sorry.”

You placed the mug back under the machine, reaching to grab another from the cupboard for Marcus. The machine buzzed to life again, pouring two new fresh coffees as you leaned against the worktop next to Marcus.

“What were you so lost in your thoughts about then, hm?” Marcus moved you to stand in front of him between his legs that were stretched out as he leaned against the worktop. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you into his chest.

“Just… us,” you sighed looking up at Marcus and upon seeing his raised eyebrow you continued, “how happy I am but also how worried about how happy I am.”

You looked back down again, playing with the bottom of his t-shirt as you didn’t know how to word whatever it was you were feeling inside. You felt you had to tread that much more carefully with Marcus than with previous relationships. You wanted him to know that you were happy with this relationship, that you didn’t care he was a single dad and that didn’t change how you were feeling, but you didn’t want to overstep. Marcus’s hand came under your chin, tilting you back up to face him.

“That… doesn’t make sense. What do you-”

Marcus was interrupted by the sound of Missy now joining you in the kitchen, her footsteps dragging as she moved to sit at the kitchen table.

“We can talk later,” you smiled up at Marcus in an attempt to reassure his racing mind, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek before lifting your fresh cups of coffee to the table.

Marcus followed behind, with bowls, milk and cereal.

You were glad that breakfasts were usually quiet, not having to pretend to concentrate on what was going on while your mind still raced at your worries of the morning. You could feel Marcus’s eyes on you, watching when you stared into space every so often before you would turn and give him a smile. He tried to smile back but it didn’t quite reach his eyes as he hoped that whatever was on your mind wasn’t regret at admitting your love to one another the night before.

“Am I still going to Grandma’s today?” Missy’s voice came from between you both.

“Yeah, you can go get ready after breakfast,” Marcus turned to face her.

After finishing up, the three of you moved around clearing the table before you went upstairs for a shower. As the hot water hit your body you felt your shoulders relax and your mind ease. You trusted Marcus would understand what you were finding so hard to describe. He seemed to know you better than yourself.

You stepped out the shower, wrapping a towel around your body before wrapping your hair in another. After drying your body, you shook your hair in the towel, removing any water droplets before walking into the attached bedroom.

You noticed as you walked out the way your toothbrush sat next to Marcus’s in the holder, how your shampoo and conditioner was sat on the edge of the bath next to his, your moisturisers and other creams next to his hair moose. You walked by the drawers that were now full of your clothes and the table at the side of the bed where sat your book and phone charger.

On the bed, Marcus was sitting at the edge playing with his hands. When he heard the door click open his head shot up, watching you closely as you moved to sit next to him on the bed.

“Missy at her gran’s?”

“Yeah, my mum just picked her up there.”

You watched as Marcus’s eyes desperately searched your face, his lips parted slightly as he looked for any hint at what was wrong.

“Nothings wrong Marcus,” you reached over and grabbed his hands in yours, “I promise.”

“So, you don’t regret last night?”

“No,” you laughed softly, “not in the slightest. I love you, Marcus. I have known I have for a while I’m glad I finally admitted it to you.”

“Then what have you been thinking about?” he moved to turn his body to face you properly.

“I am so happy but I’m worried something will ruin this happiness. I do love you, Marcus, more than I thought was possible if I’m being honest. I love waking up to you even when you’re grumpy and going to sleep next to you after spending a day with you. I love how special you make me feel every day. I love how good a dad you are and I love Missy too. But you’ve had a life before me, you’ve made this family home that I’ve slowly started encroaching on,” you looked around the room at your items scattering the room, “we haven’t discussed where this is going or what you’re looking for and I’m worried one day I go further than you want or- or,”

“Or that I wont go as far as you want,” Marcus finished for you.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Well, I guess we better talk about,” Marcus smiled, lifting your head towards him by you chin. “I did have a life before you but you had a life before me in your own way. I was married and I had Missy. I loved my wife but that doesn’t mean I can’t love you because I do, just as much but in a different way because you are different. Us,” he moved his hand back down to squeeze your hand, “doesn’t mean any less to me because of what has happened before in my life. In fact it means more because you’ve accepted that. Accepted me and Missy. Also, you aren’t encroaching on this home because I want you here and so does Missy.”

You couldn’t stop the tears that quietly fell down your cheeks as he spoke gently to you, washing away whatever worries you had with every word he spoke. He softly hushed you as he pulled you into his side with an arm around your shoulder, placing a kiss to your head as he rubbed his thumb over your shoulder.

“What do you see in your future? Before me, what did you want?” he asks.

“I- marriage I guess. A family, the usual,” you turned to lean into his side even more.

“I know we haven’t been together that long but do you not see that with me?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted that. You’ve already been married and have Missy…”

“Well, you’ve never asked,” you could hear the smile in his voice without even having to look up again, “I would get married again,” he gives your shoulders a squeeze, “and I love being a Dad I would do that again too. Obviously, if Missy was comfortable with it but I don’t think she wouldn’t be, so long as she trusted I had the right partner by my side. She loves you too, you know.”

“You think?” you sniffed.

“I know.”

You looked up at him, your smiling boyfriend looking back down at you.

“I love you, Marcus.”

“And I love you.”

His head dipped down as his lips found yours. Your mouths moved against each other gently before his tongue found yours and suddenly you were breathless against one another. He pulled away and you sighed as he stood at the end of the bed, holding his hand out for you to take it. He pulled you to stand with him before his hand reached for your towel tied around your chest. When you nodded he pulled it apart, letting it drop to the floor.

His eyes dragged down your body, noticing every curve and drip of your skin, every freckle that marked your skin. As he took his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes flicked back up to yours now darker than before as a smirk toyed on his lips. You lifted your hands to pull at the bottom of his t-shirt, his arms lifting to allow you to lift it over his head and drop it on the floor next to your towel.

You stood on your toes as you attached your lips to his again, hungrier than before. He grabbed you by the back of the thighs, lifting you onto the bed and lying you carefully on the pillows at the top of the bed. He moved to kneel between your thighs. His hands dragged down your sides and thighs before resting above your knees.

“You are so beautiful,” he sighed, making you blush, “you are.”

He leaned down, kissing just above your belly button and whispering I love you into your skin. He repeated this, kissing down your stomach and each thigh before resting between your legs. His eyes found yours looking down at him and he reached for your hands, holding them in his on top of your stomach as he continued kissing and nuzzling his nose against the inside of your thighs. When you started to squirm below him, unable to stop your thighs from pressing together any longer in attempt to release some of the pressure pooling at the bottom of your stomach, he rested his head on your thigh and looked up at you with a lazy smile before moving to lick up your folds before attaching his mouth to your clit.

You gasped and your head hit back against the pillows, unable to stop the moans that fell from your mouth. You forced your head to lift slightly, looking back down at Marcus between your legs. His eyes were still on you, his lips smiling slightly before he want back to gently licking and sucking at you. He felt the way your legs tensed by the side of his head and knowing you were getting close his thumb began to stroke over the back of your hand. He moved one of his hands away, pressing two fingers slowly inside to feel the way you would tense around him.

Your back arched off the bed, moaning his name at the feeling. He moved his head away to rest on your thigh for a moment, his thumb circling your clit for a moment.

“Cum for me,” he sighed before attaching his lips back to you.

With those words you did. You let the wave wash over your whole body as it tensed around him. He kept his tongue moving against you as you rode our your high before your hands gently pushed his head back when you couldn’t take anymore.

“Good girl,” he moaned as he kissed once on the inside of each of your thighs.

You reached for his shoulder, grabbing to pull him up towards you. He moved to kneel, pulling his shorts down and letting his hard cock spring free. Your mouth fell open as you watched the pre-cum drip down his length. He leaned forward, resting a forearm at the side of your head before moving the shorts down the rest of his legs before kicking them off the bed..

Your hands reached up, holding the side of his face to bring it down to kiss him deeply. He held his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing in and causing both of you to break apart in a moan. His head fell against your forehead as his free hand wrapped around your thigh to pull it around his waist. His hips stilled for a moment until you begged him to move and he started slowly thrusting into you as he lifted his head to now rest against your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back.

You moved your other leg to wrap around his waist, holding your heels against the bottom of his back as he thrusted in. They were slow and deep, hitting the right spot each time causing you to gasp. He kept his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

“Marcus, I think I’m go- Im gonna cum again,” you moaned.

“Cum for me, let me feel you,” he begged, keeping his thrusts at the same rhythm.

Your toes curled as your second orgasm of the night came, even bigger than the first. His name fell from your lips like a prayer along with moans of how much you loved him. Your hands gripped tight to his shoulders, your nails digging in until you came down from your high. He felt the way you tightened around him, holding his cock in place for a moment making him groan.

Marcus’s thrusts started becoming faster, losing their rhythm as he neared his own peak.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he moaned with every thrust until he came undone inside you as his lips attached to yours in a deep kiss, thrusting a few more times until he collapsed in your arms while still inside you.

His head is buried in your neck before he pulls out and collapses back onto your chest. Your hands reach up and play with his hair, combing through the short curls at the back of his neck. His breathing falls into steady breaths as you feel him grow heavy on top of you.

You know you will have to wake him soon so you both can clean up, but just for a while you hold him like this. You listen to his steady breathing and notice the feel of his curls between your fingers. You let yourself be with the man you love, in his home that is slowly becoming yours too, with no worries in your mind.

//

Marcus tag // @heythere-mel @over300books @computeringturtle @a-skov @leias-rebelion 

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog 

[some-kindofgnome]

Same anon here!!!! So looking at it I think food can fit into 3/5 love languages.

Most obviously and what I think would be Katsuki's main one, acts of service. As someone who was raised to show love and care through food, this hits home. He will sit and wait with baited breath when he tries a new recipe. He will never tell you but when you smile wide and tell him it's amazing, he is probably doing cartwheels internally.

Next up! Giving gifts. One of the best reactions I've gotten to a gift was when I made my ex fiance freezer meals he just had to microwave for Valentine's. And same with what you said about baking cakes!!!!! Giving food is also like giving someone a little piece of you!!!!!! Like here, have some of my heart but in a metaphorical, non-canibalistic way!

Lastly, quality time!!!!! Ok so one of my first memories is sitting next to the stove on the counter making smiley face pancakes with my grandma. You can't tell me Bakugou wouldnt secretly enjoy having you keep him company while he cooks. Probably doesn't want your help but loves having you there.

I can't help myself so here have a blurb:

He didn't realize what having you in the kitchen would mean to him. At first he thought you'd just get in the way, but no, you just sat on the counter or on a stool talking when he asked a question, humming to yourself when there was a comfortable silence and very rarely handing him a tool or ingredient if he briefly forgot where it was. You became his taste tester and despite his stoic expression, he secretly lived to watch your face light up when a new dish was good, and on the off handed chance it was ok or less he would spend the next week correcting it till you beamed at him once again!

Sundays became a ritual. Wake up, breakfast made by him, work out, clean everything besides the kitchen and then keep your boyfriend company while he did a week's worth of meal prep. He prefers you to sit on the counter next to where he is working. Better hugging and kissing height and he lives for the way you stop him from time to time, (when he isn't holding a knife) pull him close, running fingers through his hair and kissing him deeply. Once you wrap your legs around him it seals the deal and you take a brief detour from meal prep.

You threw off his whole plan for proposing to you this very way. He had reservations for a fancy dinner, someone to take photos, flowers, the whole nine yards. And yet. The morning off you had both woken up late, and as Katsuki stood at the stove making your favorite breakfast, he melted right into your touch. The ring he had constantly had on him for two weeks suddenly felt heavy and something about the moment just felt right and perfect.

So there, in the room you may very well use the most in your house, on a quiet Saturday morning, Bakugou Katsuki fell to one knee, "marry me?"

Yes, yes yes, was all you could say between tears and hugs and kisses. Until the smoke detector went off, the forgotten breakfast having gone up in flames.

And when you can't be 100% certain, you are confident at least on of you kids was conceived in that very kitchen. And don't think for a second Kaminari let bun in the oven jokes go once he found out!

Years pass, routines change, but, something remain. Katsuki showed his love through food and he sat each and every child up on the counter to watch, until they were old enough to help and learn, planting the seeds of this tradition in their little minds early on.

And you stand in the door way, admiring your husband and kids, watching sweet memories bloom before your eyes. Food connects us in some of the most beautiful ways. For the Bakugou household, food meant love.

Sorry it got so long!!!!!! Also, I did purposefully send it off anon, so no worries if you feel like sharing it. Or feel free to hoard it forever! Up to you! It's the least I can do for all the amazing writing you give us!

okay, okay, OKAYYYY, i’ve been sitting on this long enough. I wanted to keep it in my inbox forever and ever and ever so I could treasure it, but I’ve settled for taking a screenshot because the world deserves this joy just as much as I do. Especially today. Today feels like the right day to share this.

I just re-read your little drabble and it made me sOB BIG FAT UGLY TEARS. that spur-of-the-moment, private proposal is all I’ve ever wanted. and it feels so true to Katsuki, too. he doesn’t care who sees or who you’re with. he doesn’t give a shit about pomp and circumstance. he just wants you, and wants to show you that in the truest way he can.

to be proposed to spontaneously in the kitchen is a whole new level of special, especially for me. this conversation got started because we were talking about food as a love language and I connected so deeply with it because it’s my love language. to spend a single Sunday afternoon in Katsuki’s kitchen would be sublime. to spend every sunday in Katsuki’s kitchen would be transcendent.

thank you… so much for writing this. i’m literally about to print it out and stick it in my journal. i want it on paper. i want to keep it forever. i love it beyond explanation.

thank you 💖

[wondernimbus]

ottery st. catchpole — cedric diggory

pairing: cedric diggory x female!reader

request #1: Hi! Do you mind writing a Cedric x reader fic where y/n loves and is the best baker? She hands him a treat and he finds himself slowly falling for for her (idk smth really cute please!) Thanks :))

request #2:  Can you write Cedric and the reader sharing their first kiss together? 🥺

a/n: decided to combine two requests since i thought they’d work well together! 

The muggle village of Ottery St. Catchpole was a fascinating place.

The first time Cedric had gone there at age eight, he'd thrown on an odd assortment of muggle clothes: a pink strawberry-patterned shirt, overly large bell-bottoms from his father's closet, and a pair of flip-flops. He learned quickly that that was not the kind of attire that would get him unnoticed by the Muggles—rather the opposite, actually, as he earned odd stares everywhere he went. But there were no "ordinary" Muggle clothes in his closet and nor did his father, so the next time he went to the village and came across a clothesline hanging unguarded outside of a Muggle house, he snatched himself two shirts and a pair of jeans and made sure to leave a thank you note under their door.

Free to wander the village without skeptical stares of Muggles following him everywhere, curious, eight-year-old Cedric made sure to explore every inch of it from the park to the chapel to the tavern.

But his most favorite, perhaps, was the bakery.

It was a quaint little place, tucked away in the corner away from the bustling main road. Its battered sign read "Old Corner Bakery", and underneath it there was a window display of the most delicious, succulent-looking pastries Cedric had ever seen in his life. It looked—though he would never let her hear him say it—even better than the ones his mother would make at home.

And so one day, Cedric, oblivious to the workings of the Muggle world and the fact that their currency was very much different from theirs, walked through the door, marched right up to the counter where his tiny head only barely peeked out from, and held up a single golden galleon. "One of those, please," he told the old lady behind the cashier, pointing at a mouth-watering custard tart on display.

The old lady reached out for the galleon, baffled. "What is this?"

"For a custard tart," replied Cedric, handing it to her.

"I've never seen anything like this," she said in wonder, holding the galleon up to the light. "Good grief, is this real gold?"

Cedric frowned, puzzled. "It''s a galleon."

The lady's face fell. Scowling, she handed it back to him. "So it's a toy," she sniffed. "I would tell you to scram, but I've seen you pass by here ogling at my pastries once or twice before. I'll give you one for free. What was it you wanted again?"

Cedric, although a little confused by how she wouldn't take his galleon, beamed in delight. If it was for free, he wasn't going to complain.

And so Cedric walked out of the bakery a few moments later with half a custard tart in his hands and the other half already snug in his stomach. He wondered to himself if all Muggles were like this; if he went to that shop near the town square, would he get more stuff for free?

He tried, and needless to say, failed.

The next day, Cedric came back to the bakery bearing two sickles. As happy as getting free food made him, something about exploiting an old woman's kindness didn't sit right with him. If she didn't want the galleon, maybe she would take a sickle instead.

But when he walked through the bakery doors, he found that the old woman was nowhere to be seen. Instead, in her place behind the cashier, there was a little girl about his age.

"Welcome to Old Corner Bakery!" she beamed, childish face shining brightly. "How may I help you?"

Cedric drew towards her, a pout on his face. "Where's the old lady?"

"The old lady?" she asked. "Oh, you mean grandma!"

He nodded.

"She's in the kitchen—baking, you know. I handle customers like you when she's too busy and I'm not doing homework," the little girl explained, grinning.

"Oh," said Cedric. "In that case, I want a cauldron cake!"

She tilted her head to the side, brows furrowed. "What's that?"

"A cauldron cake," he repeated. "Have you not got those here?"

Bottom lip jutting out in thought, the little girl scratched her head and hopped off of the stool she was apparently standing on to look over the cashier; as soon as she did, she disappeared behind the counter and into the kitchen. "Grandma!"

The familiar voice of the old lady replied, "Yes, dear?"

"Do we have cauldron cakes?"

"What?"

Cedric waited patiently by the counter, hands fiddling with the two sickles he held in his hands. "Cauldron cakes, grandma!" the little girl yelled louder.

"Never heard of 'em!" the old lady replied from the kitchen.

A moment later, the little girl was clambering back onto her stool behind the cashier. "I don't think we have those here," she told Cedric, and then, in a curious tone, "They sound delicious, though! What are they?"

A wide smile stretched across Cedric's round face—he looked as though he'd been waiting to be asked that for centuries. At a rapid pace, he began to gush, "They're chocolate cakes shaped like cauldrons and they've got melted chocolate in them and sometimes my mum uses this spell so that the chocolate doesn't run out and you can keep eating forever. She takes off the spell sometimes, though, because she says if I keep eating I'll get as fat as dad."

The little girl giggled, but then, with her eyes wide, asked, "Did you say spells? Like magic? The kind wizards and witches use?"

Cedric's eyes grew as wide as, if not even wider, than hers. He took a quick step back and cleared his throat, eyes darting around the bakery in panic. He'd forgotten, for a moment, that she was a Muggle—he'd almost revealed the secret of the wizarding world to her and defied his parents' warnings!

"Um," Cedric stammered, stuffing his two sickles back into his pocket. "Nevermind. Sorry!"

And just like that, he dashed out of the bakery, leaving the little girl staring after him, thoroughly intrigued.

—

Cedric did not go back to the village the next day under the irrational fear of accidentally revealing the wizarding world's biggest secret; that magic existed. Obviously, an eight-year-old wizard letting such a thing slip to yet another eight-year-old Muggle would little affect the wizarding world, but Cedric, childish and oblivious as he was, did not want to take any risks.

And so it took him a week before he mustered up the courage to go back into the village. He hadn't been planning to go into the bakery—he only hoped to catch a glimpse of the pastries by the window—but he found that the little girl was sitting outside on the front steps, munching on a piece of bread.

Mere seconds from legging it, the girl looked up and their eyes met. "Hey!" she called out, perking up. "I know you!"

Cedric froze from where he stood several feet away. He thought it'd be rude to bolt when she'd already noticed him, and so he walked forward tentatively, half-expecting her to start badgering him with questions about wizards and witches and magic. But she only patted the empty space next to her and beckoned him to sit down, that same cheery smile on her face that Cedric had seen a week ago.

He sat next to her on the stone steps, crossed arms propped on his knees as he turned his head to look at her. She was tearing the bread she held in her hands into two halves, the other half of which she handed to him.

"Thank you," said Cedric, taking it.

"You're welcome!" the little girl replied, face positively glowing with the warmth of a thousand suns. Taking a bite out of her now considerably smaller chunk of bread, she tilted her head and said, "I don't think I've ever seen you at school before."

He took a bite out of his own, eyes skittering away to look at the pavement. "My parents teach me school stuff at home," he told her. It wasn't a complete lie, although he guessed that the things that she learned in her Muggle school were a stark contrast to the magic he learned from his mum and dad.

"Oh, that sounds fun!" the little girl said, beaming. "Don't you get sad, though? Not having any kids your age to play with? Assuming you don't have siblings."

"I don't," replied Cedric through a mouthful of bread. It was some sort of strawberry crumpet. "I'm an only child. I suppose it does get lonely, sometimes, but that's why I go out here—to the Mugg—I mean, the village."

She nodded, mouth moving to form an o shape. "Neat. So you don't have homework?"

He shook his head. The girl's shoulders slumped and a frown quickly found its way onto her face. "I wish I didn't get homework," she said sullenly. "They give us a whole stack of it over the summer. I hate it."

Cedric bit the inside of his cheek. He didn't quite like the frown on her face; something about it made him feel unsettled, like something had gone wrong in the world. He nudged her shoulder with his. "It can't be that bad," he said, offering her a tiny smile. "There's.. there's worse things than homework. Like—I don't know—losing ekleksiti or whatever you call it.. or unintentionally fumbling with the Quaffle and messing up your team's goal.."

"You mean the football?"

"Yeah.." Whatever that was.

She giggled, turning to smile at him. "You're funny."

There was something about her tone of voice—along with the overall aura that she carried—that awfully reminded Cedric of summer days playing Quidditch outside with his family and warm wind in his face and lying in the grass seeing the clouds drifting above him.

It was that feeling that made it easy for Cedric to forget almost immediately about his illogical fear of exposing the magical world. It was what had him smiling back at her, round face just as bright and filled with the kind of mirthful innocence only children would have.

—

Cedric came back to the bakery the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. Both the little girl—who he learned was named [Y/N]—and her kind, albeit slightly cranky old grandmother, grew fond of him. The latter would make sure to bake him his favorite custard tarts, and [Y/N] would sit with him by the front steps of the bakery, talking about every tiny thing their brains came up with.

"Have you got a favorite movie?" [Y/N] asked him one day.

"A favorite what?"

"A movie. Don't tell me you've never seen one!"

Cedric scratched the back of his neck, abashed. "I don't think so. Is that a Mu—I mean, what is it?"

Looking utterly astounded, [Y/N] began to ramble on about moving pictures and fairytales and stories.

"I've seen moving pictures—but you're telling me they don't talk to you?" quizzed Cedric dubiously.

Frowning, she nodded. "The pictures talk to each other. Sort of. Although it would be cool if they talked to us, don't you think?"

Still trying to wrap his head around the concept of images that don't talk to you but talk to other images whilst following a story of sorts, Cedric rubbed his forehead. "This is giving me a headache."

[Y/N] giggled, shoving the last of her custard tart into her mouth. "Let's go see one one day! A movie, I mean. It'll be fun!"

Prying his palm away from his face, Cedric nodded and couldn't help but grin right back at her. The excited gleam in her eyes shone with the promise of more than just one day seeing a movie; it glowed with the promise of a friendship that would last for a long, long time. That gleam of promise was reflected in Cedric's own gaze, and rest assured it would stay there in the rest of the years to come.

—

Three years seemed to pass by in a blur of endless chatter, ridiculous inside-jokes, and shared pastries out by the bakery's front steps. The pair grew and their friendship did so along with them. Cedric learned to grow cautious about what he had come to call his "magical secret", although he suspected that [Y/N] had started to grow skeptical along the way despite her never bringing it up.

When his letter from Hogwarts arrived, Cedric knew that he had to tell [Y/N]—that, or make up some excuse. Or perhaps invent something akin to the truth, but not quite.

And so it went like this: "My parents are sending me to school."

[Y/N]'s eyes widened. They were sitting in their usual spot out by the bakery's stone steps, identical biscuits in their hands. Out of nowhere, she smacked Cedric's shoulder; he turned to face her, clutching the spot where she'd hit him. "What was that for?" asked Cedric, eyes as wide as hers.

She smacked him again, bouncing with the excitement of a five-year-old child waking up on Christmas day. "That's great!" she squealed, stuffing her biscuit in her mouth and chewing frantically. "I can introduce you to all my friends and we'll get to see each other everyday and not just on the weekends!"

Cedric's heart sank. "Um.."

"And we can do homework together and I won't have to walk back home alone and—"

"[Y/N], I'm not going to your school."

She paused. Her face fell and drooped into a frown so disappointed that Cedric had to tear his gaze away. "What—where are you going, then?"

He scratched the back of his neck, lips pressed together in a weak grimace. "Somewhere far."

[Y/N]'s brows were furrowed. "Where?"

"I don't know. Somewhere in Scotland, I think. I'll be back home for the summer, though."

Her shoulders had slumped, and so had Cedric's. The disappointment was evident in the sulky lines of her face and it was making Cedric feel all sorts of things he normally wouldn't feel around her; incredibly downcast being one of them. He'd known this day was coming one day or another, and so would the day he'd have to leave and not see her for several months—the day that loomed only a week from then.

"When are you leaving?" asked [Y/N], gaze fixed on the pavement, a pout on her tiny face.

"Next week," replied Cedric.

He couldn't bear it. He poked her side, which immediately led to her jumping up and frowning at him. (He'd discovered over time that it was a big tickle spot of hers.) Once he'd gathered her attention, he said in a quiet voice, "I've got a secret. Do you want to hear it?"

Still looking somewhat sullen, she nodded. [Y/N] would never pass up a chance to discover some big, mysterious secret, no matter her mood.

And just because he wanted to cheer her up, along with the fact that he knew he couldn't keep this from her—his best friend of three years who knew everything about him from his favorite pair of socks to his biggest fears—he leaned in, eyes wide, and whispered in a hushed tone, "I'm going to a school for wizards."

She drew back, brows pulled in together in the middle in pure incredulity as said, "You're joking."

"No," said Cedric, grinning. And then, in that same hushed voice, "You have to promise me you won't tell anyone, okay?"

Still looking utterly bewildered, [Y/N] nodded slowly, gaze locked with his.

"I can show you magic, if you like."

At this, her eyes grew wide and a moment later she was nodding excitedly. "Where? When? How?"

"Right now!" replied Cedric, relieved at the smile that split her face and replaced the disappointed frown from before. "Wait here, okay? I'll be back!" And then he sprang to his feet and dashed off.

Cedric was true to his word; he came back half an hour later bearing a mysterious purple package in his hands. [Y/N] was still sitting patiently where he'd left, and she looked up at him calling her name.

"What is that?" she asked, hands reaching out for the box, which Cedric handed to her. Turning it over in her hands, she saw the words "Chocolate Frog" written across the paper lid in shiny golden letters.

"Open it!" Cedric urged, sitting down next to her.

And so she did. Carefully opening the lid of the octagon-shaped box, she let out a loud shriek as a chocolate-colored pair of squirming frog legs poked out from behind it. Out of surprise, the package fell from her hands and onto the pavement, but Cedric's instincts were quick; he hurriedly hopped off the steps to grab the package, hands firmly clamped around it as he brought it back to her with a wide smile on his snickering face.

"Guess you don't scare easy, huh?" he grinned, teasing. "It can get away if you don't hold onto it as soon as you open the package. See, watch."

Heart still beating rapidly, she leaned over with wide eyes and a curious gaze, watching as Cedric carefully opened the lid. He caught something that, sure enough, looked like chocolate—but it was moving in his clasped fist.

"A chocolate frog," said [Y/N], eyes the size of golf-balls.

"Yep," said Cedric, bringing the still struggling treat to his lips and taking a huge chunk out of it. "Don't worry—it's not an actual frog. Just shaped to look like it."

Gobsmacked, [Y/N] stared as he handed her the bottom half of the chocolate frog, the legs of which was still squirming. "That's—woah," excitement bubbling in the pit of her stomach at having witnessed actual magic (albeit in the form of the so-called chocolate frog), she brought it to her mouth, where it instantly stopped moving and dissolved into a creamy mess of delicious chocolate.

Eyes glinting with the same elation that was in hers, Cedric sat down next to her and pulled a card out of the box. He handed it to her.

[Y/N] stared down at the small card in the palm of her hands. "Woah," she said again, voice a stunned whisper. Imprinted on the card was a photo of an old man whose beard stretched all the way down to his waist. He was wearing sparkling magenta robes and looking straight at her, a gentle twinkle in his wizened, old eyes. An odd name was emblazoned under his picture—"Albus Dumbledore"—but then he reached up to adjust the spectacles on the bridge of his nose, and [Y/N] let out another surprised gasp. "He moved!"

Cedric was grinning. "Magic, I told you!"

Exhilarated, [Y/N] looked back down at the card in her hands. The old man—Dumbledore—winked at her through his half-moon spectacles. "Is he—" she swallowed, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart, "Is he a wizard?"

Cedric nodded, beaming. "And so am I."

For a few seconds, [Y/N] could do no more than open and close her mouth in pure shock. All of this was a lot to take in—but perhaps her being of the mere age eleven helped, because while the ordinary Muggle adult would have downright refused to believe it, an imaginative young girl like her who had yet to discover the world took the news kindly.

"I'd show you more magic," Cedric said bashfully, "But I don't really know how to yet. That's why I'm going to Hogwarts—the school I was talking about, you know—so I can learn how to use magic. Spells and potions and all of that stuff."

At this, [Y/N]'s lips once more drooped with the threat of yet another painful frown, but she picked it back up with a small smile. "Here," she swiveled around to face him on the steps, knees knocking with his. Holding her pinky finger up between them, she said, "You promise me you'll write, okay? And you have to tell me about all the stuff that you learn there and all the other wizards and witches you meet—there are witches, right?"

Cedric nodded, lips pressed together in a tiny smile as he laced his pinky finger through hers. "I promise. Expect there'll be owls knocking on your window every week or so."

Her eyes widened once more. "Owls?"

He grinned. "We use owls to send letters and stuff around."

"Oh. Neat."

They broke out into a fit of giggles. "Okay," said Cedric, pulling his pinky finger away. "But you have to promise me you'll keep it a secret."

[Y/N] nodded earnestly, a look of the utmost seriousness crossing over his face as she pressed her palm to her chest like she was swearing an oath. "I'll take it to the grave with me, Ced," she said, eyes sparkling. "Trust me."

—

And trust her he has done, for the past few years of his life. Cedric would leave on the first of September every year, but not before bidding her farewell and promising to write at least once a week. To make up for the time they've lost, he would spend almost every day of the summer and winter break with her. His parents understand; he has long since told them about the Muggle girl at the bakery who his heart has grown close to. And perhaps it is his parents who first notice when the friendship that he has with her begins to blossom into something else. Something more.

"Out to meet with your friend already?" asks his father upon catching Cedric already on his way out of the front door. It's his first day back home from his fifth year at Hogwarts, and he has barely even finished unpacking his bags.

Cedric grins. He is a young man of age sixteen now, no longer the tiny eight-year-old boy he once was when he first met [Y/N] all those years ago. And yet despite all that has changed—despite his broader stature and the fact that he now towers over his father—he is still the same compassionate boy he has always been; the one who has always had a love for pastries and a certain girl at the bakery, although he doesn't quite know it yet.

"She's waiting for me," says Cedric, oddly exhilarated. His heart beating with the anticipation of seeing her for the first time in several months, he waves a brief goodbye to his father and dashes down the hill leading to the Muggle village of Ottery St. Catchpole.

He goes down the same path he always has; past the small patch of trees at the foot of the hill, through the town square, and finally, in front of the bakery. The door is propped open as though it has been waiting for him to enter, and voices waft out onto the street from the inside.

A smile already having found its way onto his face, Cedric takes the front stone steps two at a time before stepping inside.

"Be careful, grandma—oh, no—no, let me do it."

"It's fine, I can—Cedric, dear boy, you're back!"

A tray of freshly-baked cookies are set aside on the counter before a familiar elderly Muggle woman rushes at him and envelops him in a hug, mitten-covered hands wrapping themselves around his middle—the farthest she can reach him at his tall height and her own short legs. Cedric meets [Y/N]'s gaze over her grandmother's shoulder; she is leaning on the counter, lips pressed together in a barely-suppressed smile as her eyes shine with the kind of light that reminds Cedric of everything good in the world.

It takes a while for [Y/N]'s grandmother to stop fussing over him. When she does, she disappears behind the kitchen with the promise of coming out with a fresh batch of his favorite custard tarts.

And then he and [Y/N] are left alone in the bakery, where Cedric wastes no time and hugs her as close to him as he can. He wants to tell her that he'd missed her—terribly so—but he knows that she knows, and so he just holds her to him and hopes that the words come across alright.

A moment later the two of them are outside of the bakery, sitting on the same stone steps they've perched themselves on so many times before.

"So let me get this straight: you intentionally didn't write about the fact that there was a mass murderer inside your school because you didn't want me to worry?"

"Well, the matter was taken care of—"

"And there were soul-sucking demendoids or whatever you call them roaming the castle and you didn't mention it to me in your letters because you—"

"I didn't want you to worry, yes."

[Y/N] stares at him, deadpan. "And I suppose if you suffer a horrible death you won't care to write to me either because you don't want me worrying."

"Well, if I were dead, I'd hardly be able to write to y—"

"Oh, you get my point!" says [Y/N], rolling her eyes, but she's laughing as she shoves him lightly on the shoulder. Sighing dramatically, she shakes her head. "You learn a few magic tricks and suddenly you cut me out of your life."

Cedric scoffs, but his annoyance is only about as convincing as [Y/N]'s, as he has a smile of his own on his face. "I leave a few details out of my letter and suddenly you want to end our friendship."

"I don't want to end it," protests [Y/N]. "I just don't want you keeping out the bad stuff from your letters just because you don't want me to worry. If anything, I want to hear more about the negatives than the positives so I'll know that I'm not the only one having a hard time."

Cedric raises his brows, the smile on his face drooping as he angles his head to look at her face from where she's leaning on his shoulder. "Why? Tough time at school?"

She shrugs, shifting a little. "Kind of. It's ridiculous, actually. My best friend—well, second-best, since you're first—thinks that her boyfriend," she makes a face, "likes me. She didn't talk to me at all during the last few months of school and I highly expect she'll still be an arse about it when we come back after summer. Rubbish, really." Cedric has fallen silent. When she looks up at him, she finds that there is a frown on his face, so immediately she reassures him by saying, "You don't have to worry, Ced. I've got other friends. Better friends—wizard friends. Or friend. Just the one."

Cedric raises his eyebrows at her. His mood has dampened a little; it shows in the disappearance of the crinkled smile lines around his eyes and the way his lips have tugged down.

"Oh, come on," says [Y/N], sitting up straight. "Don't look so bummed. I've told you it's not a big deal."

He looks away, and then, quietly, "I just don't like the idea of you having a hard time."

A grin slowly stretches across her face. A moment later, she starts laughing. "Always so caring, aren't you?" she teases, reaching out to poke his cheek.

Cedric rolls his eyes, clutching her hand and prying it away from his face. "Whatever," he mutters, making a face at her. She giggles and does one right back, and just like that, they're laughing again.

It's incredibly easy for the innocent, youthful part of Cedric to come to the surface during times like these, when he sits down in front of the bakery with his best friend at his side as they return to their naive, childish shelves and bond over everything and nothing with all sorts of pastries clutched in their chubby hands. Cedric finds that, no matter how much time has passed, [Y/N] still feels the same: warm and comforting and reminiscent of home.

—

Time passes as it has always done, and sooner than both Cedric and [Y/N] would have liked, the day of September comes looming above them a mere week away.

They are on one of the many hills surrounding the village of Ottery St. Catchpole—their favorite one, actually; the one that has a perfect view of the village if they sit at the very top, which is what they are doing. The night sky looms above them as they do as they have always done: talk. And whenever they lapse into silence, they bask in the comfort they have always found in one another.

At present, they are laying on their backs on the grass. Usually, they'd be pointing out random shapes they each notice in the clouds, but it is nighttime and only wisps of smoke from the village chimneys drift across the dark blue canvas. There are only a few stars visible through the pollution hanging in the air; "I could count them all on one hand," says [Y/N], arm stretched upwards as though reaching for the sky. "Bit sad, really. I remember when we were kids there were still a lot of them. Sort of."

Cedric, with his gaze similarly glued to the stretch of sky above them, lets out an exhale. "We can see the stars at Hogwarts," he tells her quietly like they're sharing a secret, which, in a way, they are. "We don't even have to go to the Astronomy Tower to see them—when we look up, they're right there. Right above us. It's.."

He trails off.

"Ethereal?" [Y/N] suggests, tone hushed.

Cedric nods. "I wish I could take you to see them, but. You know."

"I'm a—what was it you guys called us lame, non-magical folks again?" she rolls onto her side to face him, arm tucked underneath her head as her eyes narrowed playfully.

"A Muggle," Cedric says, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "And that doesn't make you lame. It just makes you.."

"Non-magical," she snorts.

"Doesn't matter," mumbles Cedric, shifting to turn on his side as well. "You've got a different kind of magic." And his tone is teasing, but there's a hint of underlying emotion hidden beneath that he wonders if [Y/N] picks up on.

"And what's that?" [Y/N] asks, feigning a haughty look. "Is it my—let's see—supernatural charms? Or my mystical beauty?"

Cedric laughs. "Something like that."

Facing her, mere centimeters away, Cedric sees that moonshine is dancing across the skin of her face; he sees the very stars they were speaking of gleaming in her eyes, and all of a sudden the atmosphere changes and he can't quite breathe properly.

The look on his face doesn't go amiss. The playful smile on [Y/N]'s face falls and reveals underneath it something more—something that has Cedric's heart beating wildly in his throat and his lungs seizing up in his chest.

Ethereal, Cedric thinks to himself as his gaze locks with hers and he finds himself drowning in the sea of constellations inside her irises. The stars at Hogwarts hold no competition to those which he sees in that moment in [Y/N]'s eyes. He wonders if they have always been there, waiting to be noticed, or if they have only just surfaced now.

And then Cedric finds himself leaning in and somewhere in the middle, she meets his lips with her own.

They pause for a moment, as though giving each other time to pull away if they want to, but neither of them do. And he really can't quite tell who moves first—him or [Y/N]—but they let each other's lips begin to whisper over one another's in gentle, slow carresses. They string up, unhurried and soft, one kiss flowing into the next with endless patience and want, and [Y/N]'s lips are inviting and alive and Cedric almost doesn't want to pull away, but he has to, eventually, and so he draws back, eyes blinking open.

He wonders, for a moment, despite the fact that she'd kissed back, if he had gone too far. If he had crossed the line that had always rested between them that made the difference between friendship and.. whatever this was.

But then familiar crinkles appear around [Y/N]'s eyes as she smiles at him. "I believe I've discovered my magic."

Cedric takes a brief moment to respond. Letting out a quiet exhale, he keeps his gaze fixed on hers as he furrows his eyebrows a little and asks with a tiny smile of his own, "What's that?"

She grins and jokes in a hushed, almost theatrical tone, "Seduction."

Cedric's face relaxes into a proper smile and he leans forward, pressing his mouth against [Y/N]'s for the second time. He feels the happy curve of her lips and feels his own curving up in response until they aren't really kissing anymore; just smiling against each other's mouths.

Ethereal, Cedric thinks to himself again, not for the first time that day. Absolutely bloody magical.

—

The muggle village of Ottery St. Catchpole was a fascinating place, but perhaps the reason why Cedric thought so was not because of the buildings and the bustling streets themselves, but because of the little bakery owned by a Muggle grandma and a girl whose heart Cedric knew even better than his own.

When the first of September comes around and brings with it the inevitable need to say goodbye, a pair of friends bound together by the passing of time sit on the front steps of the Old Corner Bakery, joking and talking and making promises to write. [Y/N]'s grandmother has insisted on Cedric bringing along snacks in case he gets hungry during the train ride, hence the paper bag full of custard tarts he clutches in his hands.

"I think she loves you more than I do," says [Y/N], watching her grandmother disappear back into the bakery, weeping.

Cedric laughs. "Tell me something I don't know."

And then suddenly it is time to say their farewells, and Cedric is hugging her goodbye but it doesn't feel like enough, so he pulls away, places his hand on the back of her head, and presses a kiss to her forehead. He would press their lips together but he knows that will make it harder to say goodbye, so for now, he settles for this.

"You promise me you won't leave the bad stuff out of your letters, okay?"

"You can count on me."

So Cedric waves goodbye to her with the same gleam of promise from all those years ago sparkling in his eyes like stars that have yet to die out. He can't promise to stay, but he can promise that he will come back—and he will. He always will.

a/n: whether or not cedric comes back to ottery st. catchpole next year is entirely up to you (cough triwizard tournament cough)

[gumnut-logic]

He struck the key but it came out flat. A frown and he yanked off his gloves. Should have taken them off before attempting the piano, but he had to do this before he lost the tune.

Bare fingers made it easier and he struck out the basic melody caught in his head. But it was only part of a tune, yet it was going around and around. An old memory, where the hell had it come from and what was it?

Grabbing a piece of paper, he scribbled down the notes he had managed to discover already.

“Virg, are you going to change out of your uniform? You stink.” Gordon wandered into the comms room from the kitchen with a plate piled high with leftovers. There was definitely some chicken and possibly some lasagna in that pile, he could smell it.

“Need to work this out first.” It was muttered distractedly. He honestly had to grab this before he lost it. It was a song, he was sure of it. It sat at the very edge of his memory and nagged him. He knew enough to know he didn’t have the tune right. But he had to get it right. It meant something. Something important.

They had attended an earthquake this morning and while hunting through the remains of a shopping mall, he had come across a section that still somehow had power. No doubt from the mostly intact solar panels that had collapsed along with the roof. Something electrical had survived and the music was still playing, albeit in loop and fragmented.

It had been both familiar and irritating. Now it was caught in his head and he was sure it was important. He had heard it before. He just couldn’t remember...

He struck the keys again, fingering it out. C, D, E, E, D, F, A, C, C.

Again.

Again.

Where had he heard this?

Again.

“Virg, are you going to keep playing that same bit over and over again?”

Again.

This is important. He knew he knew it, but from where?

Again.

His baldric rubbed against the piano stool, shifting it awkwardly across his body. His uniform was definitely not designed for piano playing.

Again.

“Virgil?”

Again. Damnit, he knew this.

Again.

What if he varied the speed?

Again.

F sharp?

Again.

“Virgil!”

Again. Damnit! Again. It was there. It was damn important. Why couldn’t he connect the dots?

Again.

Again.

Again.

“VIRGIL!”

He flinched and found Gordon in his face. “What?!”

“Do you have to do that?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t you play something else?”

“No, I need to work this out.”

“Can you work it out somewhere else?”

“No, Gordon. If I recall I was in here first. You were the one who decided to join me.”

“It is irritating as all hell. Part of a song over and over and over again. C’mon, bro. Play something else.”

“No! I need to work this out. It’s important.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know! Now, leave me alone. I have to work it out.”

He played it again.

And again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

“For god’s sake, Virgil, can you stop it please!”

“No!”

Again. It was so close. Just on the edge of memory.

“It’s like listening to Mom die over and over again. Virgil, please!”

Virgil froze, hands poised above the piano keys. “What?”

Gordon sighed. “It’s like that song that kid in the waiting room had playing too loud on his headphones, the day Mom died. Something about ‘teddy bear love’. I have no idea. All I know is that I avoid it like the plague and now you start playing something like it repetitively while I’m trying to eat my dinner after a damn long and sucky rescue. So, please, can I ask you to just stop?”

Virgil stared at him as the image formed in his mind. The stark white walls of the hospital waiting room. His arms full of a young Gordon, half asleep in his lap, Scott beside him on one side, John on the other. Alan curled up asleep in Scott’s arms. Dad and Grandma talking to a sober faced doctor.

And another family in the room, waiting and just as terrified. A young boy attempting to shut out the world with music, far too loud on his headphones, the tune drifting across the room.

Dad’s stony face trying to ignore the tears running down his cheeks as he told them that Mom wasn’t going to be coming home.

Something caught in Virgil’s throat. An old pain, a sharp pain, oh, god, he didn’t realise. Shit!

“Virgil?”

“I-I’m sorry, Gords. I’m....excuse me.” He stood up like a robot. His uniform creaked as he strode from the room.

-o-o-o-

Gordon stared after his brother and frowned. The man had paled, his eyes wide, as if...aw, hell.

He dropped the plate full of food onto the centre table, appetite suddenly gone, and closed his eyes. Did his brother honestly not remember that piece of music? Gordon would have thought with the man’s musical talent, his musical memory would be stronger than his.

Apparently not.

Or perhaps he had just blocked it out.

It had been a horrible time. Each of them affected in their own way. Virgil had been one of the stronger ones, reaching out to his brothers and supporting them when it got too much. Scott had been a champion, leading them through it all, picking up where Dad fell down. But Virgil had been the shoulder to cry on, the one the younger boys went to when it became too much.

Gordon couldn’t remember whether his second oldest brother had ever cried himself. He had always assumed that Scott had been the one to see to him.

But then Virgil had always been different.

He sighed.

Damn.

Standing up, he stretched out aching muscles and followed his brother from the room.

-o-o-o-

One of the advantages of living on an island was the many beaches. If there was a lack of a beach, there was plenty of oceanic cliff to sit on and gaze out into an infinity of water and sky.

It was evening after a long day and everything ached. Now those aches were joined by an old injury to his heart. His insides were a knotted twist of hurt. Old hurt. Stupid hurt. He should be over this.

But apparently, his gut felt differently.

How could he have not remembered? Now the memory was in place, the song came back to him clearly. It was a monotonous and repetitive composition. It had played over and over again, that boy desperate to shut the world out. Must have been his favourite song.

Virgil swallowed and a gust of wind caught his hair. His uniform made him impervious to the environment and for a moment he felt that restriction, that lack of contact. So standing on a cliff far above the ocean, Virgil Tracy shed his International Rescue uniform. His baldric fell to the rocks, followed by his blue jumpsuit and boots. Left in his black undershirt and shorts he shivered in the wind, but relished it. He yanked off his socks and his bare feet made contact with the rock beneath.

And for a moment he just stood there and closed his eyes.

The first tear fell before he even realised he was crying.

And once that was loose there was no stopping the others. Before he knew it, he was crouched on the rock bawling his eyes out. He had no idea where this had come from. No idea why now. Mom died years ago.

The mere thought brought another sob to the surface.

God, what the hell was wrong with him?

But then there were arms around him, holding him, gently rocking, muttering words of comfort. The arms were strong but smaller than his own and a vague sense registered that it was his brother Gordon who was witnessing this travesty, but he was beyond it. Beyond it all.

He found himself crying broken sobs on his little brother’s shoulder.

-o-o-o-

Gordon found his brother shedding his clothes on a cliff on the other side of the island. He didn’t approach immediately, quite frankly wondering what the hell Virgil was doing stripping down to his underwear out in the open. On a normal day, this would be perfect fodder for teasing the man. But this was not a normal day.

The moment Virgil started crying, Gordon’s heart broke.

What the hell was going on?

He wasn’t sure he had ever seen Virgil cry and here was the man curling in on himself, tears pouring down his cheeks.

Gordon didn’t hesitate. He ran up to his brother and wrapped his arms around him, holding the bigger man the best way he could. “C’mon, Virg, it’s okay. It happens.”

The man turned to him without looking him in the face and Gordon found himself holding his big brother as he sobbed on his shoulder.

“Virg, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He wasn’t good at this. He didn’t even know the cause so he had no idea how to make it all better. How could he fix this? He didn’t know, so he just held on.

He loved his brother. Virgil had been there for him all his life. That very night of his mother’s death, it had been Virgil who held him while he cried. While he tried to understand why his mommy would never be coming back.

All his brothers were supportive by nature. They were a very close knit family, but there had always been something about Virgil. Gordon had always looked up to him and Virgil had always acknowledged him, always looked after him. The man was very different to Gordon, but those differences made their relationship work.

Gordon ribbed his brother because that was a way to speak to the man. Other than work, they had little in common beside their familial connection. Gordon used teasing to reach out to Virgil, to lighten him up, to make him smile, and, yes, to make him groan. This was the man who held his life in his hands every time he dropped Module Four onto the ocean. The trust was there, the love was there, Gordon wanted to be there for his brother, too.

It didn’t usually involve holding him while he cried.

But that was life, so he’d do his best.

“C’mon, Virg, this is my favourite shirt. Tear stains are not groovy, man.”

Virgil didn’t answer, just drew in a shaky breath and straightened up. His eyes were wretched and red.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Sorry.” The familiar baritone was hardly there. His brother rubbed his face with both hands. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“Is this about Mom?”

And there it was. A flicker of hurt and the welling of further tears. The expression on Virgil’s face emanated pain and loss.

“I’m with you, Virg.” His own voice had dropped to whisper quiet. “Come here.” He gestured his brother to him.

Virgil stared.

“Aw, c’mon. I know I’m your kid brother. I know I’m younger than you. But I was there, too. It hurt. It still hurts. Sure, I didn’t know her as well as you and Scott, but she was still my mom. I still lost her just as you did.” He swallowed, his own emotions welling at the memories. “We may be grown men, but she was our mom, Virgil, and we have the right to mourn her. You have the right. So come here and give me a damn hug and we’ll work through this.”

Virgil’s eyes widened and it took him a moment, but he shifted closer a little, staring at Gordon the entire time.

Man, it was like enticing a walrus to eat from his hand. Except the walrus was easier.

In the end, Gordon closed the distance between them and wrapped his arm about his older brother’s shoulders. “Have you ever talked to anyone about Mom?”

Still staring, his brother shrugged. “Talked with Scott, you, all of you really.”

Gordon rolled his eyes. “Not about us and our feelings. About yours.”

“I did.”

“Bullshit.”

“Gordon-“

“All you’ve even said to me on the subject has been how I have been feeling.”

“Scott-“

“Should I contact him? What do you think his answer would be?”

“Gordon-“

This time he interrupted his brother by drawing him into a tight hug. It stifled whatever the man had been about to say. “Love you, bro.”

Virgil’s large hands crept around him and returned the embrace. Voice parched. “Love you, too.”

“She was our Mom, and we loved her.”

“We did.”

“It sucks that she was taken away.”

“It does.”

“I miss her.”

It took a moment, but the words were whispered into his shirt. “I miss her, too.”

After that, nothing more was said. It was just two brothers on a sea cliff holding each other.

Sometime later, Virgil drew in another shaky breath and straightened again, breaking off the hug. He wiped his face with one hand and shook himself a little. “Thank you, Gordon.”

A slight smile. “Any time, bro.” He reached out a hand and gripped the man’s considerable bicep. “Look after yourself.”

“Will do.” And Virgil was standing, grabbing his discarded uniform, shoving the socks and boots on his feet. A moment and he offered Gordon his hand to help him up.

Gordon took it and bounced to his feet. “So, do you always wear tight shorts under your uniform?”

Virgil frowned at him. “What?”

“I can see the attraction. They obviously show off your butt quite nicely and when those IR fans get their hands on you, you have to know that your underwear will live up to the hype.”

“Gordon!”

“What?”

Suddenly there was a meaty arm around him again and he was being drawn into yet another hug, this time crushed up against his taller brother’s massive chest. “Oh god, Virg!”

Virgil let off a laugh, his chest shaking with it. “I love you, bro. God, I do.”

And if there was a touch of noogie, Gordon didn’t care. He was too happy seeing his brother smile.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[your-eternal-muse]

Home

Summery: After months of being held against your will, you escape into the world, and await for the moment when you can return home.

Warnings: Mentions of abduction, vague mentions of abuse, talk of injury, thoughts of giving up, mentions of weight loss

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Words: 2.5k

Authors Note: Wow. It’s been a hot fucking minute huh? Sorry for taking so long. I was moving and unpacking, and getting situated and than I got a new job and so many other things. This is the piece that got me back into the writing flow, so that's fun. I am still working on requests, and while they may not be posted in the order that I received them, they still will be posted. I will also be posting little one shots in between them as well, because my brain doesn’t know when to fucking stop. I missed you guys. I hope you’re all doing well. Also I’m at 950 followers??? That’s insane. I don’t believe it. Anyway, enjoy!

I run.

I run through gaps in between trees, stepping on sticks, ducking under branches.

Every muscle, every bone in my body is screaming at me to stop. To give up, fall to the ground and curl up at the base of a tree and give in to the darkness.

But I can’t.

I can’t stop running, not until I know I’m safe.

Not until I’m home.

The air is brisk, and the leaves crunching underneath my bare feet are different shades of decay.

The sunlight breaking through the canopy does little to tell me what time of day it is, or even what direction I’m going. 

So I just run.

Away from the little wooden house where I’ve been beaten almost everyday for who knows how long.

I’ve lost count of the days.

But I got lucky.

He’s always gone during the day, and I’ve lost enough weight so I could slip my wrists through the zip tie that had me bound.

I’m losing stamina, but I keep pushing forward.

Please, god, give me something, anything.

I stumble through a wall of brush, falling to the gravel ground of the side of the road.

A road.

I push myself up, my steps stuttering as I gain my back my balance.

I turn my head, looking both ways down the seemingly deserted road, and I now believe in a mighty being above because I see gas pumps not even a half a mile down the road from where I’m standing.

I start running as fast as I can, limping every other step, trying to pick up a speed my body has forgotten.

My heart is pounding in my chest, and every breath feels like it’s being ripped out of me, but I couldn’t stop now even if I wanted to.

I turn into the gravel driveway of the station speeding towards the front door, barreling inside, heaving for air as I turn and lock the deadbolt on the door.

I flip the sign from open to closed for good measure, before slipping down to the floor in a heap.

“Oh sweet baby jesus above, darling what happened to you?” A woman runs out from behind the counter, crouching down next to me pushing dirty matted hair out of my face, hands running gently over my exposed skin.

My voice is hoarse, and my throat burns when I speak.

“I’m Supervisory Special Agent y/n y/l/n of the Behavioral Analysis unit of the F.B.I.” I let my head fall back against the glass of the door. “I don’t, I don’t have my badge otherwise I would show you.”

Her eyes are deep green, and kind. Worry creases her already wrinkled face, and her skin looks soft and loose.

“Oh honey, it’s okay. I believe you. Can you tell me what happened?”

Tears start to form in my eyes and I can’t seem to move anymore. “I was abducted by someone we were chasing in May, and I just escaped.” 

A hand comes to cover her mouth. 

“I really need to use your phone to contact my team.” 

She couldn’t be older than 50, with long dirty blonde hair starting to gray at the roots.

I couldn’t help but feel the trust swarm my chest, too tired to put up walls anymore.

“Oh of course, honey. Let me help you behind the counter, and we’ll get you all set.”

She gingerly helped me back to my feet, wrapping my arm over her shoulders to help me sit on a stool behind the counter. 

She makes sure I’m set sturdy on the seat, before handing me a landline from beside the till.

“You use that to call however many people you want, and I’m gonna go get you some water and something to eat.”

She starts to walk away but she snaps her fingers and turns around, grabbing something from the counter and draping it over my shoulders.

It was a fuzzy winter jacket.

“It’s almost November, you’re probably freezing too.”

Her accent is a gentle southern, like a grandma who makes peach cobbler and gives the best hugs. 

I shove my arms through the sleeves, zipping it up to my chin. 

Almost November.

It’s October.

I’ve been gone for five months.

October, and I’m wearing shorts and a ripped tank top.

I look down at the landline and take a breath to steady my trembling hands before dialing the number I know by heart.

Three rings, and he picks up.

“This is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

I start to sob at the sound of his voice, a voice I never thought I’d be able to hear again.

I start to collapse within on myself.

“Hello?”

I haven’t said anything.

I take a breath, wiping my nose on the back of my hand before speaking.

“Hey, Spence.”

It’s silent, and I can faintly hear the sound of something crashing to the floor.

“Y-Y/n?”

“Jesus, I never thought I’d get to hear your voice again.”

“Where are you? Are you safe? Is he there?” He’s frantic, his voice rushed and high.

“I don’t know where I am, but I’m safe. I’m at some gas station. A nice woman is helping me.”

I lick my lips and I can taste the saltiness of my snot. “I got out.” 

“Penelope, I need you to trace this call right now.”

“What? Why? What happened?”

He has it on speaker, and I openly sob at the twinkle of her voice.

“Penelope…” is all I can muster, but it’s enough to hear her gasp, and then her own sob.

“Hold on tight sweet girl! We’re coming!”

I hear typing, and background voices getting louder.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Derek?” I gasp, bringing a hand to the center of my chest and grasping the fabric tight in my hands.

I lean back against the wall as the woman comes up with bottles of water, and bags of different foods.

Tears stream down my face, and the woman pushes hair out of my face, pinning it back with clips from her own hair.

“Is that you stud muffin?” I hope he hears the small smile in my voice.

I hear a shaky breath. “Yeah it’s me sweetheart.”

“I got her! She's a few miles outside of Chattanooga Tennessee!”

Tennessee? How the hell did I get to Tennessee?

“Derek, go tell the others. We’ll meet you at the jet.”

I hear shuffling on the other end as I break the seal on the water, before taking a long, much needed gulp.

“Are you still there y/n?” His voice is laced with concern, and I can picture the crease above his brows, the shakiness of his hands. 

“I’m here.”

“You stay right there, okay? Don’t move. We're on our way.”

The woman hands me a box of tissues, and I take a few wiping my eyes, but my cheeks stay wet.

“God, I missed your voice.”

A moment of silence, and I know he’s trying to collect himself on the other end of the phone, trying to stay strong for me.

“I missed yours too. I called your phone every day just to listen to your voice. I probably left a thousand voicemails.”

The woman opens a bag of chips for me, before kneeling and pulling out a first aid kit from below the counter.

“I thought about you every day. About your voice. Your smile. I just wanted you to walk through the door and say some weird statistic and we’d fly off into the sunset.”

I can hear him choke back tears and all I want to do is hold him, like his pain is somehow my own.

“I tried. I tried so hard, but you had disappeared without a trace. But I never stopped. I would never stop looking for you.”

“I know, Spence. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you, and I never will.”

Muffled voices in the background and he sniffles. “I have to hang up, baby. We’re taking off. We’ll be there in a little under two hours okay?”

Two hours.

“Okay. Please hurry.” I close my eyes, picturing his smile in my mind. “I miss you.”

“We will. I love you. See you soon. Hang on.”

The line goes dead, and I bring the phone slowly back down from my ear, hanging up.

I take a chip and pop it in my mouth. 

The woman stands in front of me, and with a cotton pad with alcohol, starts to clean at the cuts on my face.

“What’s your name?” I ask, feeling bad, that in the 20 minutes I’ve been here already, I hadn’t even stopped to ask.

“Luanne, sweetpea. It seems like you got a lot of people that care about you.”

I nod my head, popping another chip into my mouth. “My team. They’re my family. We were on a case in Chicago in May when…”

Bile starts to form at the back of my throat, but I shove it back down with another swig of water. 

I lick my lips, trying to get rid of the sting of the salt in the cracks. “Thank you. For helping me. I know you didn’t have to but-”

“Sweetpea,” she holds my face in her hands, wiping away the tears that are still falling. “You have been through hell and back again. You deserve all the kindness in the world.” She pulls me into herself, and I nuzzle my face into the fabric of her shirt. 

It smells like lavender.

“You’re safe now. Any bastard that tries to come in is going to have to go through me first.”

I clutch onto her shirt, basking in the first kind human touch I’ve had in months. 

She smooths down my hair, soft and slow, and I listen to the heartbeat in her chest.

“You know, you remind me so much of my daughter. She looks soft on the outside, but she’s one hell of a fighter. I think you’d both get along rather swell.”

She stands, and just holds me, running her fingers through my hair, as I soak her shirt with my tears. 

I’m never going to forget her, forget this. 

I will spend every day of the rest of my life trying to repay this woman's kindness anyway I can. 

Thank you, will never be thanks enough.

Flashing lights appear outside the window.

~~~

I’m tired. 

My eyes burn with every blink and there’s an insistent pounding matching the beating of my heart inside my skull.

It hurts to breathe.

It hurts to move.

I’m freezing.

I tighten the blanket around me as medics move around me, getting things ready for when I’ll finally cave and agree to go to the hospital.

But I can’t leave.

I won’t leave. 

Not yet. 

The red and blue lights don’t help the migraine swimming behind my eyes, and everyone is talking too loud.

Why is everyone talking so loud?

My eyes look across the darkening parking lot, and Luanne is leaning against the hood of a cop car, her hands in her pockets, and she smiles at me, her hair blowing softly in the cold October wind.

But I hear fast paced tires on gravel, and my eyes move from her to the two black SUVS pulling into the lot.

I’m moving. 

Thoughts aren’t even processing in my brain, my neurons are stagnant. I’m moving on pure instinct. 

The car door opens before it’s even stopped, and the blanket falls from my shoulders in a heap on the floor of the ambulance.

Time is an illusion. 

It’s completely stopped as my feet meet the gravel, and I push the dirt behind me, moving towards the one person I thought about whenever I got the chance.

It’s just me and him, moving towards one another, two unstoppable forces about to test Newton's law.

My eyes start at his feet.

His pants fall over the top of his chuck taylors, and I’m positive two different socks sit below them. 

Higher.

Closer.

His hips.

He’s not wearing a belt. His holster is crooked. He was in a rush.

Higher.

Closer.

His chest. 

His vest is missing. His tie is loose, and the top couple of buttons are undone.

I can see his collar bones.

Higher.

Closer.

His neck, the bobbing adam's apple.

Higher.

Closer.

His lips, pursed.

His nose, red.

Highest.

Here.

His eyes. 

Deep hazel, honey surrounding darkened pupils, and I fly into his arms.

Ice melts.

My head clears.

I wrap my arms around his neck, shoving my face into his shoulder, inhaling like it is my first breath.

My feet aren’t on the ground anymore. 

He holds me, tightly against him, hands splayed across my back, his own face buried into my neck.

Our heart beats sync. For a moment, we're one. 

And then time seems to start again, and I pull back, eyes bleary, and I grab his face, crashing my lips to his in a desperate plea. 

He breaths into me, and I know, for certain, for the first time in months, that I am safe.

I am home.

We break, and our tears mix on cold cheeks, and I can’t stop looking at him, touching him, feeling the fabric of his jacket beneath my fingertips, the growth of his stomach beneath my own.

“I love you, I love you so much, oh my god.” His hands are all over me. My face, my neck, my arms. 

I never thought I’d get to touch him again, get to feel him, get to kiss him.

“You’re here. I love you. You’re here.” Is all I can manage as I bring his face to mine again.

I played out entire scenes where we did exactly this inside my head while that man did whatever he wanted to me.

I had all the things I wanted to say inside my head, but now that it’s real, now that it’s forged into reality, words fail. 

Nothing I can or want to say means anything at this moment. 

Nothing matters other than me and him.

A new hand is on my shoulder, and I lift my head to see Hotch. 

And so I am passed, from person to person, being held and squeezed and kissed and cried on until everyone has felt the breath leave my lungs, and I have felt the warmth of their skin. 

I return to Spencer, and he drapes his coat over my shoulders and zips it up to my chin, before the medics walk over.

They don’t say anything, and they don’t need to. 

I simply grab his hand and start moving towards the ambulance. 

“We’ll meet you at the hospital.” Hotch's voice is stern, and soft at the same time. 

I nod, and climb into the back, Spencer right behind me.

The medics get to work, and I feel my eyes droop, feeling his hand in mine.

He brings it up to his lips, pressing a kiss against each knuckle. “It’s okay. You can rest now. You’ve fought long enough.”

I smile at him, watching the tears stream down his cheeks. 

I succumb to the darkness.

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[nuttytani]

The flying cat & the baker

summary: you are a sorcerer who owns a bakery in new york. one day, steve discovers your abilities when he walks in on your cat flying inside the shop on a broom.

fandom: marvel

pairing: steve rogers x gn!reader

warnings: lots of mentions of baked goods and the word "horny" just once (it's not nsfw, trust me)

a/n- heya! another fic~ this was inspired by girl in red's "fell in love in october". i know it's extremely off season but yeet i dont care + my dear friend @lorei-writes / @mllorei beta read this! *gives hug to lorey* thank you so much ;-; lorey. ps: this is a non-avengers!au

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Steve to get lost in the sea of New York streets, walking along the cobblestone paths, breathing in the scent of baked goods, spice and fresh flowers. After all, it was his most favourite part of his daily routine, discovering a new place or two. He took his time looking around the nearly empty street, for it was too early for anyone to be awake except for the store owners. They were all busy preparing their shops for opening to notice his presence.

Steve looked up for a moment, noticing the light of dawn setting upon the sky, sending small beams of yellow light like blessings cast by angels. His low breathing felt warm against his chapped and cold lips. With a silent sigh, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pea coat as he resumed strolling without a set direction in mind, eyeing the buildings- the chipped off parget, showing the reds and browns of the brick underneath while moss and vines covered most of the bottom half.

They all turned into a blur once he stood by a jade coloured bakery, the sign reading “magicae et pistoria”, a silhouette of a black cat on a broom just underneath it. He stared curiously at the displayed varieties of pastries and bread, wondering if he should buy a few- would Sam and Nat like to eat them?

With hesitant fingers, he grasped the door handle and entered, instantly greeted by the bell. Barely a few seconds passed, and Steve felt immensely at ease. His body appreciated the warm cocoon provided by the bakery- in contrast to the weather outside. The interior was rustic, with brick walls and wooden fixtures. His feet lead him magnetically towards the delicacies contained in the arched display, varieties of cakes, pastries and bread placed temptingly- he didn’t know which one to pick.

“Hello! Good morning, how may I help you, sir?” A voice pulled Steve out of his reverie.

Steve looked up to see you, your hair a mess, dust covering the black apron and your forehead, a cute smile adorning your face. You looked like an ethereal being- an angel perhaps, standing before him. Somehow, a breath got stuck in his throat, and his heart started to beat rapidly. He could hear it getting louder and louder. His clothes felt too tight, and he suddenly felt suffocated.

“Sir? How may I help you?” you said again.

Steve cleared his throat, embarrassed with himself for staring at you for much longer than necessary. He muttered an apology under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to hear.

“It’s alright, sir, happens all the time. I’ve experienced many people just gawking at the pastries and not knowing what to pick, it’s understandable! I’d be confused too,” you confessed to him.

“Right, of course, glad I’m not the only one or that would’ve been embarrassing,” Steve laughed, trying to bury his awkwardness.

Only if you knew the truth, he’d personally dig his own grave and jump into it.

Steve accepted your help instead of going down the rabbit hole of confusion. You helped him to pick out a few baked goodies- which were a rage amongst your regular customers; a chocolate mousse, Japanese cheesecake and a few vanilla custard doughnuts.

“Thank you! Have a good day,” you said, as the blonde man left the store with a wave.

“Damn, I hope I didn’t look too nervous,” wiping your sweaty palms on your apron, you heaved a sigh of relief.

You usually didn't open the bakery on the weekends, but some things needed to be done, which required your presence. You were sure that no one would come along so early in the morning but were proven wrong. Although it was your fault to leave the open sign hanging, you didn't mind the blonde-haired man and maybe thought he was kinda cute.

You flipped the sign to “closed” while locking the door from inside, as to make sure no one could come in. You moved back to the counter and caught a hand wrapping around a glass jar.

You cleared your throat and glared at the man in question.

“What do you think you’re doing mister.” You folded your arms and glared at the brunette.

“What does it look like? I’m trying to eat some cookies, obviously. You should get your eyes checked if you can’t see things clearly boss,” Rajeev replied and swiftly turned to look at you.

The brunette shrunk and transformed into a black cat, looking at you with bright doe hazel eyes while purring deeply. You groaned and picked him up, placing him on your shoulder.

“There’ll be consequences if you transform like that out of nowhere, and your sister is going to kill me because you haven't been careful. So, if you don’t want me to be skinned alive and thrown into a cauldron to be boiled, stop doing that here.” Truly, nothing scared you more than Rajeev’s elder sister- she was overprotective and intimidating, you wished to never be on her blacklist.

Rajeev only meowed back at you, which frustrated you further. You hoped that he at least understood where your concerns were coming from.

“Come on, we’ve got a lot of organising to do! New stock arrived today, we don’t want cranky sorcerers waiting for us,” you said while muttering a spell and opening a red portal to an apothecary.

By the time Steve returned home, his friends were all awake and wandering about the kitchen like zombies. They all knew about Steve’s early morning walks and didn't question him but were curious as to why he came back so late.

Sam immediately rummaged through the bakery boxes when Steve placed them on the island counter.

“So...what took you so much time, hmm?” asked Sam. “Thought you just went to get some bread, dude.” He rummaged through the bag and pulled out a box, ooh-ing delightedly once he got hold of a doughnut.

“I bet it was some grandma asking for directions,” Bucky yawned, still half-asleep as he took a seat on the chair.

Natasha stole the doughnut from Sam and promptly turned to face Steve, who lay on the couch.

“Maybe, he has a secret lover! Oh Stevie, how could you hide this from us?” she said teasingly while licking away at her sugary fingertips.

Sam was distressed by her stealing and guarded the boxes with his arms, grumbling something about him not having enough coffee for this.

“Can you guys just stop- I just went to a bakery and got stuff, nothing more, nothing less!” Steve raised his voice.

All of them just shrugged.

Nat broke the silence, “Okay...But did you see any cuties?”

“NO- I mean... yes, kinda… I mean- Stop asking me these questions!” groaning with embarrassment, Steve covered his face with his palms.

Steve started frequenting “magicae et pistoria” since then to the point he became a regular customer. Not because he wanted to see your dazzling smile or anything, but because the service and baked goods were really good and his friends wanted more of that deliciousness. He became quite close to you as a result, somedays he just dropped by to say hi and spend some time with you.

Occasionally, Sam or Bucky would tag along to his trips. Even though Steve would deny it, they could clearly see he had a crush on the baker- it was obvious by their playful banter and flushed faces. They’d often tease him about it, but Steve being Steve, would just grump away and aggressively change the subject.

Another weekend rolled in, Steve was headed to the bakery as usual. It became a part of his routine to visit it during his morning walks. You, on the other hand, arrived late to the bakery and were rushing to get the place running in no time. It was just you and Rajeev today since your other employees didn't work on the weekends- it was tough but both of you managed.

While you were busy running around the place, Rajeev was playing around in his cat form, saying you didn’t really need him until later. He levitated the spare broom in the air and jumped on it, trying to balance his paws on the handle. Like a child with no care, he flew the broom back and forth across the room with an evil cat smile.

The two of you were unaware of Steve’s presence until he spoke in a startled voice.

“Why is the cat flying on a broom- what is this!”

Everything happened in a flash, Rajeev fell off the broom with a pathetic meow and you dropped your utensils on the floor. Flour and batter splattering on your shoes and creating a mess. Your scream resonating from the kitchen.

Steve’s jaw was slack with shock, his body frozen where he stood. Should he run away? Should he go and check if you’re alright? He wasn’t sure what to do, he didn't even know if what he saw was even real.

The cat was definitely real, as it stood up and rubbed its bum with its paws. How was that possible- Did he even want to know? Was he dreaming? Maybe he is still half asleep and is seeing things.

Steve grabbed a nearby stool and flopped on it, his knees were weak from shock and needed rest. His mind was still processing the situation

You came rushing from the kitchen to the scene, the mess you created all trivial compared to what had just happened right now. You didn't know what to do at this moment, should you tell the truth? Or deny everything-

“What is that thing,” Steve finally asked, breaking the heavy silence.

“A cat,” you replied as a matter of factly.

“You keep a flying cat?”

You just stared at Steve with a straight face and said, “Well...firstly he’s not mine and secondly he’s not an actual cat.”

As if showing a demonstration, Rajeev transformed back into his human form, which baffled Steve further.

“What are you?” the blonde asked in confusion.

“We’re sorcerers...I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to know about it, at least not in this way,” you sighed, gently placing a hand over Steve’s knee.

“But boss- we’re busted, now that he knows we gotta turn him into a toad!” Rajeev exclaimed.

“A WHAT NOW?!” Steve looked back at you with raised brows.

“We’re not turning you into anything! He’s just joking- Rajeev! Apologise to him”

The brunette sulkily grumbled an apology. He excused himself to the kitchen to clean up the mess you had made while you took a seat next to Steve.

“Are you alright? Want some water?”

“No thanks, I’m fine. Just...really really shocked- I can’t believe this is real.”

With a flick of your hand, you made two barstools twirl in the air.

“Okay- definitely real,” Steve chuckled.

Extra (few months have passed)

Steve sat on the armchair with you sprawled on his lap, tapping away at your phone while Sam, Nat and Bucky sat on the floor watching another episode of “the Bridgerton” on T.V.

“Damn kids these days be really horny huh?”

“Shh just watch the show!”

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