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sweetlysilent · 3 years

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Apartment 509 (Epilogue)

Pairing: Roomate!Fuckboy!Tom x Reader

Summary: To happy endings and new beginnings.

A/N: *taps mic* Is this thing on? Hello everyone! Wow it’s been a long time since I’ve updated this story. I’ve quite literally made y’all wait years for this epilogue and I’m so sorry for that. However, the time has finally come for it to end. I can’t even begin to express how grateful and appreciative I am for all of you that have stuck by me and read it along the way. I had so much fun writing this story and sharing it with all of you. That being said, I hope you all enjoy the end to Apartment 509. Much love. ❤️

Apartment 509 (Masterlist) | Main Masterlist

Six years later..

If someone were to tell you years ago that you’d fall in love with your roommate you would have laughed and told them that they were crazy. That you weren’t that type of person to fall into that fantasy story.

Boy were you wrong about that.

If you were being honest you weren’t sure if you were ever going to find your person, a part of you had given up, just accepting the fact that you’d be single forever, but then the universe threw it’s plan at you like a ton of bricks. You truly never expected to fall in love the way you did, but now you couldn’t be more grateful.

Becoming roommates with Tom and Jacob was the best thing to ever happen to you, not only was the apartment a saving grace for your time of need, but you made new friends and you found your person as well.

Needless to say Tom and you didn’t get along so well in the beginning which was no surprise there, you couldn’t stand fuckboys, and that’s what intrigued him more about you. You never saw yourself dating the type of person you used to despise, yet you proved yourself wrong.

You couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh, thinking back at all the memories of the past couple years. It was definitely a wild ride, something you were surprised you made it out of, but with Tom by your side you knew you could accomplish anything.

“What is that beautiful mind thinking of?” His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to turn your head and look at him. “Just thinking about how insane these past few years have been, how much my life has changed, how much yours has too.” You smiled softly at him, your fingers tracing his cheek gently.

Tom adjusted himself under the sheet covers, pulling you closer to his chest as he pressed a light kiss to your forehead. “I will agree to that, so much has happened to us, but I couldn’t be more thankful and blessed.” He hummed, his fingers caressing your back soothingly.

You melted into his touch, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. You both laid in silence for a few moments, just enjoying one another’s presence, until Tom lifted his head causing you to open your eyes.

“As much as I love laying here with you darling, we do have a party we have to start getting ready for.” Tom whispered, his voice soft and calm as you pouted, burying your face into his shoulder, pressing a faint kiss to his bare skin.

“I know, but I’d love to spend all day in bed with you.” You whined, making him chuckle, his chest vibrating making you smile widely. “I would love that too, but our friends wouldn’t want to experience this.” He teased, making you laugh and pull away from him.

“You’re right.” You huffed out, staring at the ceiling as Tom grinned at your childish behavior, something he thought was adorable. “Plus, we have two little munchkins who will destroy this house if we don’t get out there.” He pointed out, causing your eyes to widen just at the thought.

“Do you know how long it took to get jelly out of Mason’s hair the other day?” You glanced over at him, “An hour. A full hour Thomas! That boy thought it was your hair gel and wanted to be like his daddy.” You squinted your eyes at him as he gave you a sheepish smile.

“What can I say, he has good style! Just needs to use the right products and well.. Not food to do it.” Tom laughed, hopping out of the comfortable bed before you could whack his arm. You gave him a playful glare as he winked at you, disappearing into the bathroom.

You let out a content sigh, hearing the water run in the bathroom as you looked around the bedroom. Your life was completely different than how it was five years ago.

Not only did you graduate college, while being pregnant might you add, but you also started dating Tom. Once you gave birth to your beautiful baby boy Mason, you and Tom decided it was time to start house hunting. You both knew the apartment wasn’t a big enough space for a child, plus you both didn’t want to bother Jacob as well.

You both had been saving up money for a while, wanting to eventually find a house to buy, and then one day while you were searching online, you found your dream home. You quickly ran out to show Tom, and the second he saw it his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

Within the next two hours you and Tom went to go walk through the house, whilst Jacob being the best friend he is, babysat Mason. Tom and you knew once you got done walking through the beautiful home that it was perfect.

You both did some talking with the realtor, sorting out some things with the house and land, but in the end, you both decided that it was too perfect to pass up. A couple more hours of signing papers and details that Tom ended up taking over, you both were now the new owners of a gorgeous home.

Needless to say you both were extremely excited.

Once you both returned to the apartment Tom was eager to break the news to Jacob, who was super happy for the both of you. You let the two boys talk while you took Mason back to your room, getting a bottle ready for him.

Over the course of a couple weeks you both moved things out of the apartment and into your new house, with the help of Jacob, Harrison, and Madison of course. Once everything was finally moved in you all had dinner and relaxed.

You were extremely thankful to have such amazing friends.

Weeks after you started living in your new house, things were going great, you both along with Mason were the happiest you’d ever been. However, you were nowhere near prepared for what was about to happen.

You came home one day after being out with Madison, she had wanted to do a fun girls day, of course you were a bit anxious, you didn’t want to leave Mason, but Tom convinced you to go have fun and that he could watch him.

So, you ended up going out with her and having a blast, you didn’t realize how bad you needed to get out and let go. You both ended up getting your hair and nails done, along with some lovely shopping.

By the time you arrived back at your house it was evening, you bid Madison goodbye, making your way up to your front door, only to enter and see rose petals scattered along the floor, small lit candles making a path for you to follow.

You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head at how adorable he was being. You set your bags down at the door, following the lit path and rose petals that lead you outside to the backyard. However, Tom was nowhere to be found.

You glanced around the yard, your eyes landing on a small folded up letter on the glass table.

My dearest Y/N,

As you can see I’m nowhere to be found, but what you can find is a stunning red dress that I know you’d look gorgeous in. Meet me at our favorite place.

Love, Tom

You couldn’t help but smile widely at his cheesiness, but you loved it just as much. You opened the box that was underneath the letter, a beautiful red dress sitting prettily in it. With zero hesitation you rushed back into the house, slipping into the dress, admiring how it hugged your body in all the right places.

You made sure your makeup and hair looked good, and then you headed down the stairs, grabbing your car keys and heading out the door. The drive to the area wasn’t too long, you knew it like the back of your hand.

About ten minutes later you pulled up to the place, the sun had begun to set, causing the sky to turn into a beautiful sunset. You got out of the car, seeing more rose petals and candles creating a path for you.

You began to follow them along the wooden path, your eyes widening when you saw Tom standing in the middle of the field. His head snapped over towards you, his eyes drinking you in as you smiled warmly at him.

He looked extremely good, he was dressed up in a black suit, his hair slightly gelled back but not too much to the point where you couldn’t see his curls. The river of water flowed behind him, as a light warm breeze blew.

You carefully made your way towards him, your nerves skyrocketing as you got closer. Eventually you made it up to him, a happy yet nervous smile on your face as you stood in front of him.

“I see you found my note.” He grinned teasingly, making you laugh and nod your head as he grabbed your hands gently in his. “This whole thing is beautiful Tom, the dress, the roses and candles, our place, the sunset.” You gushed, a wide smile on your lips as he smiled adoringly at you.

“I’m glad you like it.” He rubbed your hands with the pads of his thumbs. “Like it? Tom I love it, this is perfect.” You smiled at him as he grinned. “I do have to ask though, what is all of this for? Did I forget a date night?” You tilted your head at him slightly, watching as he inhaled a deep breath.

“No, no you didn’t forget a date night.” He let out a small chuckle, clearing his throat as his nerves started to set in.

“I did all of this because tonight is a special night, it’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while, but it was never the right time, until now.” He nervously spoke, his eyes fixed on yours as you felt your heart starting to race in your chest.

“The day we met I knew that you were the one, of course we had our ups and downs but that just made us stronger into who we are today.” Tom began, licking his lips as he held your hands in his, his palms getting sweaty.

“I was a broken guy who slept with random girls to fill a void I was missing, I never knew what love was, until I met you.” He smiled warmly at you, making you smile in response. “I look at us now and I always think, ‘wow, I am so lucky to have this wonderful person in my life, I don’t know what I’d do without them.’” He chuckled, making you laugh quietly with him, tears rimming your eyes.

“Not only that but we have our amazing son Mason and I couldn’t be more grateful.” He beamed, squeezing your hands.

“Y/N, you have brought so much happiness and joy into my life, I love waking up with you sleeping next to me, I love taking care of Mason with you, I love making so many memories together, but most importantly, I love you so much, so..” He paused, letting go of your hands as he got down on one knee, pulling a small black box out of his jacket pocket.

You covered your mouth with your hands, tears slipping down your cheeks as he opened the box revealing the most gorgeous diamond ring you had ever seen.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” He looked up at you, his own eyes brimming with tears as you nodded your head rapidly. “Yes! One hundred percent yes!” You cried out as he quickly stood, taking a step towards you as he pulled you into a passionate kiss.

You both broke away, laughter leaving both your mouths as tears slipped down each of your cheeks. Tom held your hand, slipping the blinding ring onto your finger with shaky hands.

“I love you so much.” He murmured, pulling you in for another kiss as you smiled against his lips, “I love you so much more.” You whispered against his, making him smile widely in response.

What you didn’t expect next was for all your friends to emerge out of hiding, cheers erupting from their mouths making you and Tom both smile brightly. Madison was holding Mason while Harrison was taking pictures of the entire proposal. Jacob was clapping and holding a bottle of champagne.

Needless to say, it was the most magical and special proposal you’d ever had.

“You’re still in bed?” You heard your husband chuckle, your eyes darting over to see him all dressed and looking sexy as ever. “Of course, it’s comfy here, plus I was just thinking about the day you proposed to me.” You grinned at him as his cheeks flushed a light shade of red.

“That day and our wedding day will forever be two of my most favorite moments in life.” He smiled lovingly at you, walking over and pressing a short kiss to your lips. “What are the other ones?” You questioned, curious about what he was going to say.

“Well obviously having Mason and Henry.” Tom stated as if it was basic knowledge, making you snort in response as he smirked at you. “Now go get ready, we have less than three hours to get the house prepped and to tell everyone the big news.” Tom squinted his eyes at you making you laugh and raise your hands in surrender.

“Alright! I’m going, I'm going!” You smiled as you got out of bed, waving him off as you went into the bathroom this time. You spent the next twenty minutes getting ready and tidying up the bedroom. Once you were satisfied with how everything looked, you headed out of the bedroom.

You made your way down the stairs, hearing numerous voices filling your ears as you walked into the kitchen, a smile forming on your lips as you saw Tom helping Mason and Henry. “Look at my three little helpers.” You cooed, hands on your hips as Tom grinned at you, Mason and Henry running over towards you.

“Mom! Look what we did!” Mason tugged on your hand excitedly as Henry held your other hand. You let the boys walk you over towards the counter, your face lighting up at the vase of followers.

“These are beautiful boys, did you cut them to fit the vase all by yourselves?” You beamed at the two of them as they nodded excitedly, eyes wide. “Yes! With daddy’s help.” Henry giggled, making you laugh and pull them both in for a hug.

“Well they look amazing, uncle Harrison and aunt Maddie are going to love them.” You ruffled their hair as they let out a chorus of laughter. Tom however was simply standing off to the side and watching the entire thing, his heart warming at the three people he loved the most.

“Boys, do you want to help me go grab some drinks from the garage?” Tom chimed in, seeing their heads snap over in pure excitement of helping. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as they went running off in the direction of the garage, a grin on Tom’s lips as he winked at you, following after the two kids.

While Tom had the kids distracted for a moment you spent the next couple minutes organizing the kitchen, making it look presentable and tidy. Once they came back they helped place the drinks on the table, before going outside to play for a bit.

You and Tom spent that time fixing up the rest of the main floor, picking up shoes and toys. Soon enough you heard the doorbell ring throughout the house before footsteps and voices could be heard.

“Your favorite people are here!” Madison announced as she walked into the kitchen, a beaming smile on her face as a guy followed behind her. “Oooh, who is this?” You teased, raising your eyebrows as Madison smiled widely, wrapping her arm around the guys bicep.

“You remember Andrew right?” She wiggled her eyebrows as your eyes widened in surprise. “It’s about damn time!” You cheered, making her and Andrew laugh in response. “It took some time, but he finally asked me to be his girlfriend.” She beamed as Andrew kissed her forehead gently.

“I wasted so much time, I don’t know what the past me was thinking.” He chuckled, making the both of you smile. “Well, I’m glad you two are finally together, you make a great couple and seem so happy.” You congratulated them as Madison broke away from Andrew to give you a hug.

You eventually broke away, walking over to give Andrew a welcoming hug as well and telling him to make himself at home. You knew how much Madison liked Andrew, she had been crushing on him for as long as you could remember. You felt your heart sore at the sight of them, she deserved nothing but happiness and she was finally getting it.

You decided to let them be on their own, going to look for Tom when you heard another pair of voices enter the house. The familiar blonde hair coming into view, a girl also following behind him, as well as Jacob.

You smiled warmly at them all as Tom walked into the kitchen, a smile on his lips as he did his hand shake with the two of them.

“Hey man, I’m glad you all could make it.” Tom greeted them, his eyes landing on the girl then back at Harrison. He gave a small grin as Tom’s eyes widened in surprise.

You however watched this entire interaction in confusion, until your eyes darted down to the girls hand. Your jaw dropping in shock, eyes wide as you made the connection.

“Everyone, this is Natalie, my fiancée.” Harrison introduced her as all of you clapped and cheered, making the two of them blush and laugh. “We’re so happy for the both of you.” Jacob congratulated them as they smiled lovingly at one another.

“I knew you’d find your person.” You smiled happily at the blonde as he smiled back. “Thank you for always believing in me.” He spoke softly, giving you a side hug as you returned it. “Always.” You smiled.

Once you two let go you glanced over at Madison who lifted her glass into the air, clanking a knife against it. “Since we’re doing introductions, I’d also like to introduce you all to someone.” She grinned as Andrew stood beside her, his face flushed.

“Everyone this is my boyfriend Andrew, Andrew this is Tom, Harrison, Natalie, and Jacob.” Madison spoke happily as they all greeted each other. “It’s about time you two got together.” Tom grinned as Harrison and Jacob smirked to one another.

“Does everyone know how much you liked me?” Andrew teased as Madison laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “I wasn’t exactly subtle about it.” She admitted, making you all laugh, shaking your heads at the two of them.

You all talked for a while, catching up and just having a good time together, eventually Mason and Henry came inside saying they were hungry. You all then decided to eat, grabbing all different types of foods that were spread out on the numerous counters.

You all gathered around your outdoor table, chatting amongst each other, sharing stories and laughing. This was the happiest you had seen everyone in a while, nobody once showed any signs of unhappiness or negativity.

You were listening to Madison and Andrew tell a story about a girl they work with, everyone’s focus on them when you felt Tom’s hand grip your thigh gently. Looking over at him he rose his eyebrows at you in a questioning manner as you smiled at him, nodding your head.

You both waited for them to finish telling the story, laughter leaving all of your mouths as Mason and Henry ate their food happily, not fazed by them talking at all.

Once everyone’s laughter died down, Tom rose from his chair, clearing his throat as everyone’s attention focused on him. “I just wanted to start off by saying thank you all for coming, Y/N and I love having you all over, as do Mason and Henry.” He chuckled as the boys smiled goofily at him in response.

“However, Y/N and I have been keeping something from you all for a while, two things actually.” Tom grinned, watching as curious expressions washed over their faces. “We wanted to hold this little gathering to tell you all the amazing news because you’re such important people in our lives.” He explained as everyone smiled at him in response.

“Come on Holland, you’re killing us here.” Madison teased, eager to know what the big surprise was. Tom let out a laugh as did everyone else as he raised his hands in surrender. “Okay okay, the first half of the big news is..” He trailed off, a bright smile on his face.

“I got the role as Spiderman, I’m going to be in the next Marvel movie!” He excitedly spoke, watching as everyone’s eyes widened in pure shock and surprise as you beamed up at him. “That’s amazing man!” Harrison cheered, standing up within an instant and giving his friend a tight hug.

“Wow that’s crazy! I can totally see it though!” Madison congratulated, excusing herself from her chair, joining the hug with Tom and Harrison. “How long have you been keeping that a secret mate?” Harrison chuckled as Tom smirked.

“For the past couple months, it’s been hard, you know how bad I am at keeping spoilers.” Tom laughed as you nodded your head in agreement. “You have no idea how many times I had to cut him off or stop him from accidentally almost posting something on social media.” You teased, making him pout in response.

“It was only a couple of times!” He whined, making you all laugh as you rolled your eyes playfully. “Sure Tommy, whatever you say.” You cooed, making him smile in response.

“Wait, you said there was something else as well that you wanted to tell us?” Madison spoke up, now standing next to Harrison who looked at everyone then back at Tom. “Yes! You are right.” He nodded his head, clapping his hands.

“However, this part is connected to my new job, except it’s not my place to share it.” He grinned happily as his eyes landed on Jacob who rose from his seat. “I also got a job, I needed to get away from my old one, so I took a leap of faith and I auditioned with Tom and I ended up getting the role of Peter Parker’s best friend, Ned Leeds.” He stated happily as everyone clapped loudly.

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Madison cheered, giving him a hug as well as Harrison grinned at his two friends. “Wow so many good things are happening for everyone.” Natalie smiled warmly at the group of people surrounding her.

“It gets better though.” Tom chimed in, catching everyone’s attention once more. “I was told I could have an assistant.” He suggestively spoke, his eyes training over towards Harrison whose eyes widened in shock.

“Wait- Are you?” He stammered as Tom nodded his head, seeing Harrison’s face light up. He quickly turned to Natalie, wanting her opinion as she smiled warmly at him. “It’s a great opportunity Haz, take it.” She encouraged him as he pulled her in for a tight hug, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you so much.” He murmured as she whispered it back.

He broke away eventually, turning to face his friend as he held his hand out. “You got yourself an assistant mate.” He grinned as Tom shook his hand excitedly, an ecstatic expression on his face.

“This day just keeps getting better and better.” Madison laughed as Andrew wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s not even done yet.” You smirked, seeing her jaw drop in response. “There’s more news? Lord what have you all been up to.” She laughed as you also stood from your chair, walking next to Tom.

“Well, as you know we live in a beautiful home now, we have our two amazing boys who are busy engulfing that blueberry pie.” You paused to laugh as everyone looked over at the two of them shoveling forkfuls of the sugary substance.

You shook your head in amusement as you trained your focus back on everyone, “Tom and I were talking a while ago about something and well..” You turned to look at your husband who was already beaming with excitement.

“Wait hold on, are you-” Madison began, eyes wide as Tom grinned happily. “We’re pregnant again!” He cheered as everyone let out gasps of surprise as you both laughed.

“No freakin’ way!” Madison shouted excitedly, rushing over to give you a tight hug as Harrison and Jacob went to hug Tom. Natalie and Andrew smiled at the group, even though they were new they could see how much they all meant to each other.

“This is insane! You’re having another little Holland.” She screeched, making you laugh as you nodded your head. “Crazy right? We decided we wanted to have one more, Tom’s really hoping it’ll be a girl.” You smiled warmly at your friend as she covered her mouth, still in shock.

You glanced behind her seeing Andrew watching from his seat, you waved him over as he smiled and walked up to the both of you. “Congratulations Y/N.” He smiled as you thanked him.

“Who knows, maybe you two will be having your own little kids running around soon.” You wiggled your eyebrows at the two of them as they both let out laughs. “Hey now, slow down there, we’re nowhere near ready for that yet.” Madison shook her head as Andrew smirked.

“We’re taking everything one step at a time.” He agreed, nodding his head as Madison kissed his cheek gently. “That’s good to hear, I’m truly so happy for the two of you again.” You smiled at the two of them, rubbing Madison’s shoulder before breaking off to go over to Tom.

“So you’re going to have three little ones running around soon huh?” Harrison grinned as you walked up to Tom, wrapping your arm around his bicep. “Yup, and I can’t wait.” He chuckled as you leaned your head against his arm.

“Well, I can already tell that they’re going to grow up in a wonderful and loving family.” Natalie chimed in making your heart warm at her words. “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you to say.” You replied happily as Harrison wrapped an arm around her waist.

“If there’s anyone who’s fit for parenthood it’s you two.” Harrison agreed, making Tom smile. “Thanks mate, that means a lot.” He nodded his head at his friend as Jacob smiled. “Today really has been full of surprises huh?” He chuckled, making everyone laugh.

“It really has.” Harrison agreed, chuckling as Madison and Andrew walked up to them, glasses of champagne being handed out. “Not for you though, you get some lovely apple cider.” She teased, making you laugh.

Once everyone had a glass she raised hers into the air.

“I wanted to start this speech off by saying thank you for inviting us all here today, it means a lot that you would want to share all of this with us.” She began, looking around at everyone.

“That being said, here’s to friendship, family members who couldn’t be here with us today but are in spirit; along with family members we haven’t met yet, and new opportunities.” She smiled as she spoke as everyone listened quietly.

“We have all grown so much over the past years and I can’t wait for more amazing things to happen for all of us. I love you all.” She sniffled, getting slightly emotional as everyone smiled. She let out a quiet laugh, raising her glass out to everyone.

“Cheers to that!” Tom shouted as everyone cheered along with him, glasses clinking together as everyone took a sip.

After that Jacob decided to turn some music on, grooving around to the tunes as Madison and Andrew joined him, Harrison and Natalie joining as well. Whilst Mason and Henry were busy playing around in the yard as you turned to look at Tom.

He tilted his head down to look at you, his warm brown eyes scanning over your face as you made a funny face at him. He couldn’t help but laugh before pressing a soft loving kiss to your lips.

The kiss was short and sweet, but you could feel every ounce of love he put into it, something you’d cherish forever.

You both glanced around the backyard, looking at all the people that meant the world to you, content smiles on both of your faces as you held each other's hands. Tom’s thumb rubbing over yours as a smirk made its way onto his lips as he dragged you out to the dance floor.

You let out a laugh as he pulled you close to his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist as yours comfortably hung around his neck, your bodies swaying together. Laughter soon filled the air as everyone danced, having a blast together.

It was as if the skies cleared and the sun finally shone down on everyone.

Tom smiled down at you as you caressed his cheek lovingly.

“This is it huh?” You hummed, watching as he let out a chuckle. “Seems that way, things are only going to go up from here.” He replied happily, making you smile.

“As long as I’m with you, nothing else matters.” You murmured, his heart racing at your words as if it was the first time he heard them. “You complete me Y/N, forever and always.” He softly spoke, before pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss.

You eventually broke apart, your heart thumping wildly in your chest as he held you close, his eyes pouring into yours as you melted in his touch. You caressed his cheek once more, pulling him back in for a soft kiss.

“Forever and always.”

The End.

- ❁ -

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milliethekitty27-writing · 3 years

Text

The Ladder

In a hole in the ground, there lived a lonely hobbit. It all started when Bilbo grew tired of his empty kitchen.

He hadn’t been fond of eating alone since the dwarves destroyed his pantry, but he hadn’t after Frodo joined him in Bag End. He’d eaten with the elves in Rivendell, which had been full of lovely music and pleasant conversation, and then he’d eaten with the elves, Frodo, and Gandalf when they’d traveled to the Undying Lands.

Now he was here, in Yavanna’s Garden, living in what was basically Bag End. (the actual Bag End was right next door for his parents) He had his beautiful garden back, which only mattered really because he’d been brought back to his youthful self with working hands. The house was always clean (and he’d never really liked cleaning, so that didn’t matter much to him) so he had all the time in the world to work on his maps and his stories. He got the occasional social call from neighbors or family. He ate dinner with his parents on Thursdays and went over to their home on Sundays for family nights with many cousins and aunts and uncles, but he spent the rest of his time alone. He got the same whispers he had in the Shire, but he was satisfied with his cooking and working in the garden. Except… on the days there were no social calls, no family dinners, Bilbo Baggins sat in a very quiet house and talked to nothing.

“You know-” Bilbo said to no one in particular as he weeded a particularly stubborn patch of grass out from underneath his rose bush. There was a basket of tomatoes ready to be made into a sauce, or maybe used the fish tonight, but he’d seen the weeds and wanted to deal with it before it spread. “-I would have expected the garden to take care of itself when I died. Not to be doing the same tasks as before. But here we are, fighting with weeds, aren’t we Tho-” Bilbo stopped, shook his head, and pushed that thought aside.

He made dinner for fourteen but only ate for one. The rest got put away for the multitudes of meals of the next day, but almost five years after he’d died he found himself looking at the empty table with a frown.

The next morning he perused his bookshelf until he found a collection of stories. From there, he found tales of the dwarves. He sat in his armchair until a collection of cousins knocked on the door and pulled him away, but he found what he was looking for when he was waiting for a peach pie to bake.

Dwarves belief that they return to the halls of Mahal upon their deaths. From there, they await the Final Battle. Upon the arrival of that day, they will be sent back to rebuild Arda, but until then the dwarves rest in their creator’s halls.

Bilbo hemmed over that. He wandered down to where most of the Tooks lived, asking if they had any maps or had heard of the Halls before. It was a bit of a long shot, and he wasn’t surprised when they all said no. He returned to his smial and examined his garden.

“Well-” he said to the same problematic patch of clover that refused to leave. “-I know that dwarves do like their underground tunnels and their mines. And if the Green Lady is married to the Smith, then it stands to reason that they might go underground nearby. I don’t think there’s any harm in looking, I’ll just get a bit dirty and ruin my garden, and I do that on the regular. Or I’ll fall into a great underground river and run back into Gollum.” Bilbo sighed, then went to see if he could borrow Hamfast’s good shovel.

There was a patch of yard in the back Bilbo had been planning on planting carrots in, but he had a better idea now. He wiggled his toes in the cool earth, nodded, and stretched out his shoulders. Then Bilbo Baggins put his shovel into the soil and started to dig.

It took quite a bit of time, but he didn’t get as tired as he had in his old age and he didn’t have to take as many breaks. Death might mean you didn’t have to eat, or sleep, but it was routine, and he had dinner with his parents that were tradition. One day, maybe, he’d be able to bring more than just himself and whatever his mother wanted him to bring for dessert, but he pushed the idea of muddy boots and braids out of his mind in favor of helping his mother finish up the roast.

“What are you doing, Bilbo?” his father asked during one dinner. “Gorbadoc says he hasn’t seen you at the Green Dragon in some time.”

“I’m digging a tunnel.” Bilbo said matter of factly. “I’m going to try to find the halls of Mahal.” His parents looked at each other for a minute.

“What for?”

“I… suppose it’s just because I can.”

“Have you considered asking the faunts?” Belladonna suggested as she took a second helping of mashed potatoes. “I’m sure they’d be more than thrilled to be asked to ruin a garden.” Bilbo considered that.

“I think this something I want to do myself.”

Bilbo digged and digged. The hole was big enough for him to stand in rather comfortably, though he had to dig some stair-like notches into the side so he could get in and out. It took almost a week of non-stop digging to reach literal rock bottom, and then he was left with a conundrum. He’d dented Hamfast’s good shovel, so he returned it with an apology and a promise to pay him back, but would Hamfast please lend him a good pickaxe?

Bilbo woke up that next morning with arms that were incredibly sore and demanded he take a day, if not more, off. He agreed. The dwarves had waited this long, they could wait a bit longer. Bilbo went to market, got a drink, avoided questions about what he was up to, dodged a few nosy grandparents, and returned home with arms full of goods. The next day he baked an apology pie for the Gamgees and sent his mother and father cookies, lounging for the rest of the afternoon with a good book. On the third day his arms didn’t yell at him for raising them above his head, so Bilbo hoisted his pickaxe.

“How’s your hole going?” Belladonna asked as she took out a tart to cool. It was nearly time for the harvest festivals. Hobbits loved to work in their fields and grow their goods, and that meant the harvest festivals of the Shire still went on. That meant competitions (his mother was entering a lovely pumpkin she’d been growing all year, while his father was entering in a poetry competition) and baking, canning for the winter, and family time.

“Rather well, I like to think!” Bilbo gave the bread he was kneading one last good push. “I think I’ve nearly reached it, the rocks started to change to the next type of rock underground that I read about in the book that Adamantius lent me last week. It’s supposed to mean you’ve gotten to the next layer or… something. The book was rather complicated. I suppose I’ll just have to see what happens.”

“Maybe you’ll have it fixed in time for the summer planting competitions.” His father brushed his hands off on an apron as he came in from the garden with a basket of potatoes, placing them on the counter and taking a moment to kiss Belladonna’s cheek. For a moment Bilbo wondered if soon he’d be seeing his dwarves, be able to kiss one particular cheek, but he pushed those thoughts aside. It was possible he was nowhere near being able to see his dwarves, but that was a thought he’d deal with when he came to it. He was nothing if not practical, as a Baggins (no, Baggins weren’t actually practical, he knew that now, but don’t bother telling the Baggins side that) and he didn’t want to consider that what if.

“Maybe.” he ceded. “But I’m hoping that I’ll be able to make it a permanent feature.”

Bilbo returned to his hole the day after the festivals had finally finished. His larder was filled to bursting, along with all his storage rooms, and he was just planning on doing a little bit of work before settling in with a nice book.

That plan fell a bit short, though. He drove his pickaxe in rather deeply and the earth suddenly crumbled all around him. Bilbo let out a yell as he fell through a suddenly rather large hole, landing with a rather sharp thwack on something… surprisingly soft.

When he looked around, he found that he was surrounded by an incredible amount of short, bearded people wearing multiple colors and gems.

Dwarves.

He looked up and found an incredible amount of sunlight falling on him, along with a decent amount of dirt.

It seemed he’d found the Halls of Mahal. Now the question was how to get back to Yavanna’s Gardens.

...he’d cross that road when he got to it. For now, he had dwarves to find, and, uh, oh dear. The dwarf he was sitting on didn’t look very happy. He jumped off of the poor dwarf’s back.

“I’m so terribly sorry-” Bilbo offered the dwarf a hand. They were covered in braids, with long black hair, and Bilbo tried to dust them off once they were up. “-I had no idea I’d almost broken through like that, I would’ve given some warning.”

“You’re what’s been making all that noise?” a dwarf behind him said. Bilbo turned on his heel. This dwarf was dressed like a miner.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The noise-” the dwarf gestured at the ceiling. “-for the past month, we’ve been getting this awful banging- that’s coming from you? But you’re a halfling!” There was a great deal of yelling at that as the crowd of dwarves surrounding Bilbo all realized what he was. Bilbo felt his cheeks heated up with rage.

“What do you mean a halfling fell through the ceiling?!” someone bellowed after several minutes where Bilbo couldn’t get his voice loud enough. There was a great deal of pushing through the crowd and Bilbo offered another apology to the poor dwarf he’d probably concussed in his fall.

“I’ll have you know I’m not half of anything!” He said loudly into the suddenly silent hall, but there was a further commotion.

“That’s not just a halfling that our halfling!” Bofur, that was Bofur, he knew that voice. A bald dwarf covered in tattoos practically rammed his way through the crowd and there were all his dwarves, looking alive and well and whole, no blood or funeral garb, no sorrowful letters or tearful tales from Frodo about bodies and ancient stone walls. He was hugging them, pinching cheeks and smiling as wide as he had in some time. He did a quick head count - twelve. Where was thirteen, where was-

Oh.

There he was.

Thorin was standing at the other end of the mass of dwarves in the hall, firelight glinting off the silver in his hair and around his neck. There was no sign of gold or bronze, just silver. He practically blended into the cave wall in his nearly black clothes but Bilbo met those beautiful blue eyes and something just clicked. He was covered in dirt, and in his gardening clothes. He looked a mess, he was sure of it, but Thorin was looking at him in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.

“Master Burglar.” Thorin’s voice rumbled across the nearly silent crowd.

A moment later he and Bilbo met in the center of the path, both having run as fast as their feet could carry them. Bilbo’s fingers curled into the thick, wiry hair and he inhaled the smell that was undeniably Thorin.

“I thought I told you to call me Bilbo.” he said in a thick voice after a moment. “Or should I be calling you your majesty?”

“No.” Thorin said instantly. He shook his head and Bilbo felt the gentle thuds as beads connected with his skull. “No. Never you.”

They looked at each other for a moment. Thorin didn’t have the wrinkles around his face anymore, the silver in his hair was less than it had been, but there was still that shadowed look in his eyes. Bilbo took a quick breath, then leaned up and kissed his cheek like his father kissed his mother’s, like he’d been thinking about for ages and ages.

“Hello.” he whispered. “Hello, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Hello, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.” Thorin’s face was flushed now, but he reached up and brushed his thumb along Bilbo’s jaw.

“That counts as a kiss!” someone bellowed. There was a loud thud and the dwarf, definitely Nori, yelped. “That hurt!”

“Bilbo can we get a boat through your hole?” Fili called. A moment later there was a thud and both Fili and Kili were there, smushing Bilbo into the center of a Durin family hug.

“A bo- what do you need a boat for?”

“I want to find Tauriel.” Kili sounded elated. “If you could get through, then she-”

“Boys, I have to get back up myself, I can’t just pull up a boat-”

“What about cheese?” Bofur piped up. Bilbo realized that the entire company had encircled him. He was surrounded in a mass of dwarves. Stinky, hugging-too-tight, wonderful dwarves that he’d missed. “Bombur’s been talking about that recipe you sent him-”

“He sent me dozens of recipes, you’ll have to be more specific-” Bombur started.

“I told you he could break in, I don’t know why you’re still not giving me money!” that was Nori again, directed at Balin.

“These are the Halls-” Balin began.

“Bullshit, this is Bilbo, he stole from a dragon! This is all in a day’s work for him!”

“Have you seen my Gimli up there?” That was Gloin. “You know, my beautiful laddy, with the curly red hair and the most beautiful eyes, I haven’t been able to find him and we haven’t heard anything about him in a long time for a while, I’m starting to get worried-”

“He just got here, Gloin, don’t start yelling about your kid again-” that was a voice he didn’t totally recognize but he saw Bifur without an axe and grinning widely as he spoke.

Bilbo looked back up at Thorin, who was smiling at him in a way that made him come into focus and drown everything else out.

“I’m glad to see you, Bilbo.”

“I’m glad to see you too.” Bilbo smiled back at him. His dwarf reached up as if to touch his face again, but faltered.

“We’ve… we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“We do.” Bilbo agreed. “Bu-”

“Bilbo?” Someone shouted down the hole. He recognized his mother after a moment. He struggled out of the throng of dwarves much like a whale breaching for air. There was a shadow over the patch of sunlight from above, bits of dirt trickling in.

“I’m fine!” he yelled back. “Be careful, it’s a pretty hard landing at the bottom, I don’t want you to slip!”

“Wait that’s the burglar?” someone in the crowd said. There was a loud shushing noise, a thwap, and an ow.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, Mum, I’m alright!”

“Wait is that your mother?!” Kili and Fili said together.

“Did you find your dwarves?”

“I’m going to regret this-” Bilbo sighed, then he pitched his voice back up high. “I fell but I’m alright, I just didn’t realize how far down I was!” He paused for a moment, then shouted back. “Do we still have the apple picking ladders?”

“I’m sure we can dig one up-” there was his father. Poor Bungo was probably tearing his hair out. “-are you hurt?”

“No, he’s not, he said he’s alright-” his mother’s voice was muffled. “-we’ll go check, darling, stay out of trouble!”

“Can you throw down some cheese?” Bofur shouted.

“Bofur!”

“Oh some apples would be lovely.” Dori sighed.

“And some apples!” Bofur yelled a bit louder.

“Just send down his whole larder!” Kili yelled. “And a boat! I need the hole to be big enough for a boat!”

In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. This hole was comfortable, and warm, and cozy. It was also full of Bilbo Baggins’ things. This hobbit had lived a remarkable life and thus his home was quite remarkable in many ways, but the most intriguing bit about this hole was the larger hole in the backyard. It was surrounded by stones, with a lovely set of carved steps going up to the house. It led to a sturdy but worn wooden ladder that had been used for apple picking but now served to connect the Halls of Mahal to Gardens of Yavanna. This ladder fell in the center of a massive stone hall, which was filled with flowers that hobbits would come down to tend to. The two races regularly wandered through Bilbo Baggins’ garden to meet - dwarves would come up for market day bearing gifts and coins, eyeing steaming bread and crisp red apples, while some of the more adventurous hobbits would slide down the ladder to inquire about repairs for their tools.

For Bilbo, though, this hole meant so much more. It meant thirteen dwarves crashing into his house ridiculously early in the morning to nag him into making them breakfast. It meant having his family, blood and not, over for dinner. It meant listening to his mother talk with Dori and Balin about tea, to his father engage Fili and Ori into long tales of age-old tales. It eventually meant Kili tugging a tall, red-haired elf into Bag End no. 2, covered in water while a tired Fili collapsing into a chair complaining that Kili and Tauriel hadn’t stopped making doe-eyes at each other.

It meant that, after a long conversation with tears and laughter and shy touches, Bilbo made dinner with a dwarf that made him laugh as he stole pie filling and got flour on his nose and in his beard. It meant that Bilbo would come back to market to find someone frowning on his porch with little metal bits twisted in his lap as he worked on making ornaments for Bilbo’s garden. It meant that Bilbo Baggins woke up next to Thorin Oakenshield, one hand tangled in that beautiful dark hair. It meant that they sat on the bench under the oak tree and blew smoke rings into the setting sun, holding hands.

When Frodo Baggins finally entered Yavanna’s Gardens, he found his uncle beaming like he hadn’t in years, with a braid in his curls and a ring on his finger. There were thirteen dwarves in the living room, and Frodo was just in time for tea.

---

Thanks for reading!

This is based off of a post made by @wheeloffortune-design about Bilbo digging his way into Halls of Mahal, which has literally been living in my brain since I read it. (and @gallusrostromegalus put down some delightfully funny comments that also made my day) So… here we are. You can find the post here, assuming the link works!

The AO3 link is here!

man i love bagginshield.

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #the hobbit #bagginshield #thorin x bilbo #bilbo x thorin #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #my otp honestly #i started shipping this and never stopped

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loquaciousquark · 4 years

Text

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E113 (Oct. 27, 2020)

Good evening and good night, lovely people of the world! We’re on the internet and ready to go. Tonight’s guests are Travis Willingham and Sam Riegel. This will be calm, controlled, and sane, I can feel it. Brian points out it’s been seven months since either of them were on Talks. Oof. (Sam asks if it’s been going the whole time without him. Bigger oof.) Travis keeps sneaking bites out of an acai bowl or something and tries to look sneaky about it, and I laugh every time because he’s just...so big. He’s such a big person.

(Brian is wearing a lobstrosity shirt. He and Travis talk about Dark Tower for a bit; then Sam tries to get into the conversation: “Is that the thing from It?” Brian: “Is what the thing from It?” Sam: “Is that lobster the clown from It? I’m not very literate. Is that a Langolier? Is that a Shawshank?”)

Announcements: none! Maybe they just forgot. We’ve been talking about Sam’s spooky skeleton decorations for like five minutes. Brian suggests taking them to Travis’s house. Travis: “That’s the fastest way to get to the smell of burning plastic.” Brian: “Speaking of your girlfriend...”

On Avantika: Fjord wouldn’t call it a relationship as much as a casual sexual interaction. Not official! Super not official!!

The first sea voyage wasn’t great for Fjord, but he tried to be thoughtful about preparing for this one before they left: praying, kneeling at the bow of the ship, etc. He’s a little disappointed the Wildmother didn’t even throw him a “yo, fam” heads up.

They weren’t sure how to resolve the conflict at first, since Avantika went for Fjord rather than the crystal. No one expected it to get exposed in that way. Travis thought the necklace was a pocket dimension and was alarmed to learn it wasn’t. Travis wants it destroyed along with the third gateway, so until they are he won’t rest easy.

Everyone enjoyed watching them all fail on the battlefield again. (Sam: “You used [Counterspell] so effectively!”) Travis thought he’d said Thunder Step, which would imply Avantika was running, rather than Thunder Wave. Sam says it’s fine since none of them have that spell and he wouldn’t know it anyway.

It’s very difficult for Veth to find reasons to stay with the M9. She loves the adventures and making a difference, but she also wants to come home and have weekends and have a husband and life. “She’s a career girl!” He’s very excited about the possibilities of Caleb’s transportation effectively creating an easy commute for her. He also, as a player, doesn’t want to be the person who’s always leaving the party. “My characters wanna roam!”

Travis was fully tilted that Avantika might have gotten away right before the break. He doesn’t think he could have focused on Vess DeRogna’s task knowing Avantika had gotten away; he was seriously working out how Fjord would leave the party to go make a last stand at the third gate if she’d escaped.

Sam looooves how Matt plays Yeza, but it honestly makes him feel a little worse at how encouraging he is for Veth to chase her dreams. “He’s always like - go shine! Go blossom!” He wants to have the conversation about Yeza feeling a little ignored. It’s fun to share the tales of adventures with Luc & Yeza.

Travis says there’s no way it’s Molly--it’s all Lucien. They don’t know if it was a resurrection, if he’s undead, possessed, etc. Everyone--everyone--rags on Taliesin’s accent work. Brian surreptitiously claims Ashly was brought on to relieve him of the burden of the accent. Poor Ashly, ha!

Initially, Travis landed on the Oath of the Ancients, but it had more nature & pacifism in it than he felt fit Fjord very well. Many of them also had a focus on good & lawfulness, which also didn’t feel quite right; he also wasn’t that vengeful for some of the others. He & Matt got together and discussed options. Matt asked what Travis liked about Fjord; Fjord’s love for the ocean was a huge part of it, since Travis himself also loves the ocean & scuba diving, and so Matt created a custom oath for him. Travis does not plan to post its details, but he thinks Matt will at some point.

Cosplay of the Week! a lovely Scanlan by Air Bubbles Cosplay! Sam tells us the “canon” Scanlan cosplay was actually borrowed hodgepodge, and the boots were falling off all day.

It was really cool to see how Yeza & Luc have made a home in Nicodranas. Felderwin was okay, but kind of your basic D&D fishing village, and she likes the Nicodranas is much better. She’s confident & comfortable knowing her family is safe and sound.

Why is Fjord so interested in finding Sabian? To him, post-orphanage, his time with Vandren was the best of his life & the most love he’d ever received, because he mattered & had worth. It was taken by someone he’d known basically his whole life, so Fjord is not going to let that go. “That fuckin’ bill needs to be paid, my friend.”

Sam acknowledges that he should NOT have looked at his phone in re: the Vilya reveal, but it was pretty surprising! He can’t believe none of them recognized it! Travis points out the M9 had never met, heard of, or known anything about Vilya, so it’s not that surprising. Brian points out Matt has also done a really good job keeping the two campaigns separate, so any references were tasteful. Sam marvels that it was so well done: it was tasteful, had emotional and story impact... “That Matt. He’s getting better!”

Liam texted Sam back something like “oh SHIT.”

Knowing Veth had a chance to help someone else return to her child made Veth feel almost karmically forgiven for being away from her kid, but it also made Veth a little guilty--”this lady wants to desperately return home, shouldn’t I want to go home too?” Caleb’s teleportation spell couldn’t have come a better time.

Sam wants Caleb & Astrid to get back together (well, he says “hump each other”), and Dani’s eyebrows climb off her forehead. Veth/Nott really thinks Caleb needs to have a roll in ze hay, and feels like after meeting her that there is a kindness or vulnerability to her that could be worthwhile. Travis thinks she feels like someone tethered, that it feels like she has a bomb or something in her chest that’ll explode if she tries to leave. Sam thinks Eadwulf is super cool. None of these names are spelled like I think.

Travis found the dinner super frustrating, because he felt Caleb was trying to walk a diplomatic line and he just wanted to backhand Trent.

Fjord is still coming to terms with his feelings for Jester, and the feelings are definitely real, but there’s a lot of timing that he’s considering and he also wants to figure out what the relationship is like outside of constant tension and battle. Fjord is also having trouble figuring out how to exercise the ability to display affection as well since he’s never received them, and is feeling out how to give and receive them. “It’s fine now, because he’s feeling it, but once you say it out loud, or once you come to a point where you make it known to the other side, then what happens? It might be ruined. It might be broken. Or it might not be!” The moment with the porcelain unicorn was too good not to try. Travis also sighs that he’s not a romance D&D guy, “but now I am! Fuckin’ Laura Bailey!” He’s definitely feeling it out and will see how it unfolds in the game.

If Jester hadn’t let go of the Traveler, Fjord would have either attacked the Traveler or the Moonweaver and tried to kick them both off.

Sam doesn’t think the Traveler’s realized yet what a dick he is. Brian thinks it may not happen in this campaign, but agrees the full weight of what he deserves hasn’t been felt yet. Travis: “Yeah, he came to the edge, but it didn’t cost him anything.” Brian: “Yeah, he’s a real edgelord.”

Fanart of the Week! a beautiful portrait of Molly in the snow by @claygryphon on twitter.

Veth acknowledges that they work for shady people with shady pasts, so Vess DeRogna isn’t her first rodeo, but this time it’s personal. It’s Jaws 2: Electric Boogaloo. Sam can’t commit to actual actions, since Vess is like level 20 or something, but “I will get some kinda revenge. Be it petty or significant, I will get revenge.”

How are they feeling about being in Eiselcross? They’ve only just landed, so not sure yet. The cold is intimidating. They’re excited to explore a new island that’s part of Wildemount, especially with the river of lava running through it. “It’s icy with lava? Sounds like a Dairy Queen.”

There’s still a ton of unknowns regarding the Tombtakers, Vess, the nature of their job, and who’s here on whose orders. They’re excited to see how it’s all going to play out. Travis laughs that he doesn’t take notes, he’s just here to fight things. It just washes over him when Matt starts talking about names and places. “It’ll reveal itself in time. [...] I don’t write those notes down. I don’t even know how to spell it off the bat.” I have never identified more with Travis. Sam actually does pay attention and take notes and was really impressed by Marisha’s dive.

Veth became interested in branding her own spellcraft as soon as she saw Caleb doing it. “That’s what the influencer agents are gonna be looking at. It would be nice to leave the world better than we found it, but also with some branded spells.”

What were Fjord’s thoughts on dropping so much money on the ring & the Ioun stone? It wasn’t about money for Fjord, it was about a cool thing to acquire. It’s why he saves money in his campaign. Caleb needs “as much of a flak jacket as he can get.” He also REJECTS the idea of buyer’s remorse on the ring and touts the effectiveness it’ll have on the lava river.

Travis talks about his old coins - a 340AD coin he bought at a ren faire and a 120BC coin that was a gift from a friend.

Sam marvels at the love and thought that Caleb put into the tower. Sam points out they forgot to go to the top two floors altogether. Travis: “Did the mansion get as much careful planning from Scanlan as the tower did from Caleb?” Sam: Absolutely not. But they were still thinking small in C1, figuring out how things went, and they didn’t have as much detail in their heads yet.

And that’s all the time we have for tonight! We end on everyone whispering way too close into their mics and tapping fingernails on mason jars. A fitting end to this crazy episode, I think.

Is it Thursday yet?

#talks machina #talks machina spoilers #critical role #critical role spoilers #long post for ts

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und3rwat3r-a5tr0naut · 3 years

Note

That ask about the snake and the s/o going into a fast moving river for it reminded me of the time I jumped into a fast moving river. I feel like it's good to note before this story that I'm actually kind of afraid of water because of almost drowning as little kid. Anyways, I was visiting some family a few years ago during the summer and it was hot out so we decided to go to river because there's a deeper pool in it without a whole lot of current and it stays relatively cool. My cousin had brought his 2 year old dog with him, Chevy, that he had adopted a few months prior but this was the first time we had met him. (He's the absolute cutest and sweetest pitbull ever.) And he got hot too, so he went in the river for a few minutes near us in the little pool and we didn't really think anything of it. Apparently my cousin wasn't watching Chevy very well though because I looked downriver not like two minutes later and THERE HE IS just struggling against the current.

So, naturally, I leave the little pool everyone's in to go get my cousin's dog who's a good 500 feet or more down the river by now and, as I figured out later, it was absolutely a snap decision on my part to do so. I manage to get to him pretty quickly, because at this point in time I'm swimming with the river's current, and bring him closer to shore but by now we're pretty far from my family and they look like little dots on the bank. I hang onto Chevy and he's trying to get to the bank also (team effort!) but there's only one spot of bank this far down the river and it's tiny and steep and I let the Chevy go up while I stay in the river because I know I won't make it up the bank but I can at least help the dog up out of the water. So Chevy takes off through the brush and then down the road and I've made it maybe a third of the way back upriver by the time I see Chevy on the bank with my family (he's fully white and easy to spot) and everyone promptly starts to freak out and start screaming to figure out if Chevy just ran ahead of me or if I'm still in the water.

Legitimately the second I'm close enough to the bank my family's on though, Chevy helps me get up onto the bank the rest of the way by dragging me in by my shirt. I probably laid there on the bank for like an hour after letting everyone know I was fine, but I was so tired after that. I think I took like a five hour nap when we got back to the house lol. Chevy is literally my best buddy now and he's all over me whenever I see him, he even napped with me when he got back to the house.

Anyways, sorry for the long story, but how would the Farmtale, Underfell, Mafiatale, and the regular Undertale bros (sorry if that's too many) react to learning their s/o did that? Maybe they found out by asking how that one pet in particular just won't leave their s/o alone and is always exponentially excited to see them or something like that? Also, I hope you're doing well and staying hydrated and eating food and stuff, just taking care of yourself. You deserve the absolute best and nothing less. (Also sorry for my inactivity in your inbox lately, I haven't been doing too well.)

- Ghost

Ghost!!! 💖💞✨ No need to apologize! I saw your sweet message on uquiz! I hope your days get better because YOU are amazing, ok? 🥺

Also, your dog Chevy sounds adorable 😭💖✨

Straws: Well, he knows how close some owners get with their animals. Just look at him and his chickens! But he never expected such a story! He’ll lean down give your dog an affectionate pat on the head and congratulate him on being such a good boy.

Plaid: He’ll be slack-jawed the entire story and just blink at you and your dog when you’re done. “Talk about a crazy story.” He’ll bend down and pet your dog while he makes a mental note to tell you about all the dangerous spots in the river by their farm.

Red: He listens to your story completely enraptured by every detail. From the moment you tell him the dog was way farther down the river to the point where he was dragging you up to the bank. What a story! He’s not surprised. The dogs of his underground were very tough, so dogs on the surface aren’t too different? Well, maybe a little different. Yours is very lovable and affectionate. The dogs of his underground still owe him 20G.

Boss: He’ll listen to your story intently and nod along to everything you say. When you’re done he’ll look down and nod at your dog. He’s heard harrowing stories like this back in the underground. The rushing waterways between snowdin, waterfall, and hotland were no joke. He’s glad both you and your dog were able to get out of that situation ok.

Brick: He’s got the dog cradled in his arms while you tell him the story, and when you’re done it finally clicks and he just stares down at your dog in his arms with big eyelights. “This dog is tough! I like him!” (As if that wasn’t obvious before, Brick?) He’ll pull you into his arms as well and tell you that he’s glad it all turned out ok.

Gent: Gent is not a fan of dogs at all. He’s more of a cat person if he’s being honest. He tolerates your dog at first because he’s so close to you. But when you tell him WHY your dog is so close to you? Perhaps he can afford to like ONE dog....(Don’t let him lie to you, he can’t resist those big ol’ puppy dog eyes and will be very protective of him from this point on.)

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iamanartichoke · 2 years

Note

So this is kinda random, but um, do you have any favorite films, and if so, what are they? Also sorry if this is kinda a broad ask, you don't have to answer - no pressure!

I like random! I have a lot of favorite films, tbh, films that I rewatch a lot and films that I forgot about until I rewatched them for the first time in forever and remembered how much I loved them (for example, I started writing a "review" on this 90s movie, Can't Hardly Wait, that I love but forgot about until I found it on Roku a couple of weeks ago, there were gifs and everything, smh, and abandoned it bc I doubt anyone cares lmao). For the sake of being (somewhat) less long-winded than I could be, here's five films that immediately came to mind:

- Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle. Just gonna get this one out of the way first bc I am legit embarrassed about it, but it did come to mind immediately bc I just watched it a few nights ago, so in the interest of being transparent, yknow. Like, I'm not proud of this; it's just a lot of stoner/weed jokes, sexual innuendo, and literal toilet humor. It's sorta gross and problematic af and I don't actually recommend it - but, at the time it came out it was a fairly original premise and it's kinda impressive how absolutely random the narrative is while still managing to tell a perfectly cohesive story with beginning, middle, climax, and end. Plus, Kal Penn and John Cho are both charismatic enough to sell it. I do find about 70% of it genuinely funny, bc my sense of humor is trash, but. *helpless shrug* (Incidentally, I did not like the sequel and didn't bother watching the 3rd installment; the first time around, the material was original and funny; the second time around, it was just gratuitously trying to cash in on what made the first film good and it shows.)

- Little Women (1994). Until I die, this will be one of my most beloved films. It has been not only a favorite film but a comfort film since I was a teenager, and everything about it is beautiful. I think that the casting was perfection, the story was done so well, the acting was on point, and the music is gorgeous yet heartrending. A few years ago, when I was living in Boston, I got the opportunity to visit the Louisa May Alcott house in Concord, which was an amazing experience. I'm so emotionally attached to this film that I refuse to watch the Little Women remake that came out last year or whenever. I'm sure it's a wonderful film, but the 1994 version is just too dear to me, and that bias would certainly color any reaction I had to the update.

- Breakfast at Tiffany's. I love Breakfast at Tiffany's. I first discovered it when I was a teenager bc I was really into Jennifer Love Hewitt as a teen (I'm dating myself) and she did an Audrey Hepburn biopic, which led me into an Audrey Hepburn obsession, and well. I think that the film is so well done and perfectly captures this tangible sort of quintessential experience of New York in the 60s. Moon River, in all its forms, will never not tug on my heartstrings. What I also like too, though, is that I did read and fall in love with the original novel and though the film takes its own liberties and differs a lot from the novel, it doesn't diminish the quality of either? Each incarnation tells a good, solid story. I also like that they can stand alone; you don't have to have read the book to understand and enjoy the film, and obviously vice versa.

- Serenity. I haven't watched this in its entirety in a hot minute but I was watching clips from it about a week ago, hence it springing to mind. Serenity is very well-written and hits all the right emotional punches, but I will say that those emotional punches land due to the film being an extension/conclusion to Firefly. I adored Firefly and I love that we were able to get a film to show how those characters' stories wrapped up. (That said, I know some Firefly fans hated it, which - well. Subjectivity and all.) I think this film has all the best Joss Whedon elements - drama and tragedy perfectly balanced with sharp wit and genuinely funny comedic relief, satisfying character arcs (and development in general), and no one is safe from a sudden, shocking death (in 2005, this "trope" was actually outside of the norm and the shocking deaths hit hard and mattered, unlike today where everyone and their mother shockingly dies at least once), plus the cast is incredible and the score a thing of beauty.

- The Dark Knight. When this movie first came out in theatres, I probably went to see it no less than 12 times. I like the entire Nolan Batman trilogy but the Dark Knight is the best one and also just a really well-done film in general. I adore Christian Bale and loved him as Batman (he gets a lot of flack, mostly for the voice, but imho he was the best Batman, I will not be taking constructive criticism on this opinion), and I had been a Heath Ledger fan since The Patriot (another of my favorite films, now that I think of it) and thought his Joker was flawless. Plus, it's so damn quotable; it's impressive to me how many quotes from that movie have become part of the modern cultural zeitgeist, in that at this point they exist almost independently from the source material and just belong to everyone and everything. "Some men just want to watch the world burn," "You either die a hero ..." etc.

... so yeah.

I truly apologize for the length of this answer. But thank you for the ask and the opportunity to ramble (and procrastinate at work)!

reblog if you want your followers to ask you anything they’re curious about.

#i need to not answer asks until at *least* two hours have passed since my morning med dose #bc while the energy/general focus (as good as it gets) lasts most of the day #i find that i am generally extremely clear-minded and therefore prone to rambling #for about an hour or two immediately following the dose #so yeah sorry #asks #ask memes #charlotte replies #random not fandom #the charlotte lennox diaries

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notmrskennedy · 4 years

Text

The List

(Spencer Reid x GenderNeutral?Reader)

A/N - In order to curb the crushing weight of being bested by a vacuum cleaner at work and stressing about my calc test, I’m posting this. I hope you all like it as much as the last one. Y’all are just the fuckin sweetest.

Also, this was inspired by @definitelynotkatesblog and her awesome work Something to Cry About. It’s the cutest freakin thing.

Summary - A little list on what makes Reader fall asleep at night...

Word Count - 2.2k

Warnings - swearing, but what’s new?

----

1. A Podcast Episode on Epicurus and the Hellenistic Age

“Spencer, christ,” you laugh, fluffing your curls. “I can assure you that I am not touchy and sharing a bed won’t kill us.”

Spencer fidgets in his spot in the doorway, crossing his arms to keep from shaking too much. Is it wrong to be jealous of your casualness surrounding this? Is it wrong to wish away that massive crush he’s got? Just at least for one night—pretty please with a cherry on top.

You wait with a half raised eyebrow at the side of the bed he clearly doesn’t sleep on. Your hand poised above the comforter like it’ll make his decision any quicker. Like you can’t see the turmoil that has to be written across his face.

Because what does this mean? What does it mean to sleep in the same bed with your best friend for the first time? What if you end up snuggled up in the morning? Is that bad? Is that good? Is he totally secretly wishing that’ll happen and spur you in falling in love with him just as much as he’s fallen for you?

He glances one more time between your calm eyes, the made bed, the clock, the giant college t-shirt you’re wearing, finally back to your face. He nods. Adds in a dash of blushing. A teaspoon of agreeing words.

You shake your head, smile at him like he’s an idiot—though he supposes he is with you—and wrench the covers back. Like you belong. He wants you to belong.

There’s still time to back out and sleep on the couch. Does he really want to?

He wills his feet forward. Tries to tell himself that this is just like every night. Sets his watch on the nightstand, plugs his phone in, slips into the covers.

“Hey, bud?”

He hums as he turns his head to look over at you. He’s still sat up in bed, hand poised over his stack of books. Are you going to tell him to turn out the light?

You smile, shifting your weight ever so slightly. You’re the restless sort and he wonders how you work the boring middle management job that you do. Pulling your lips back into a nervous smile, you gently say, “I can’t fall asleep to the quiet, do you mind if—“

“Do you want me to read to you?”

He hopes the excitement goes unnoticed. It seems to as you chuckle. “I wish it would work. You’re too interesting, Spencer Reid. Podcasts on Hellenistic philosophy however—do you mind if I listen? It won’t be too loud.”

He shakes his head. “Not at all.” Never for you.

“Thanks, Spence,” you chirp through a stifled yawn. And as you turn the podcast on and flip over to press tightly onto the pillow, you say, “and don’t worry. I promise I keep to my side of the bed.”

And unlike the liar he wishes you are, he wakes up to find that you are very true to your word.

2. Discovery Chanel, Documentary on Revolving Door Manufacturing

He’s never seen you cry before. You make it a point to keep saying between sobs, “I hate crying in front of other people. I’m so sorry.”

He can’t fathom why it’s you that’s sorry, not after you asked him to pick you up from your mother’s. The same mother who’s apparently found it within her purview to explain just how much she hates you over a nice dinner. He’s buzzing with anger on your behalf—anger that clearly isn’t shared, though he knows it’ll come later.

It takes roughly 20 minutes to get you over the hill, trading tears for tissues. Snot for begrudging smiles at his bad jokes. He’s promised himself that he will listen—for once in his goddamn life—to your whole story without interrupting. You seem to appreciate the sentiment, punctuating the whole experience with asking for one of those hugs that just never ends.

You try to explain it—“like cats, Spencer, you know?”—like he doesn’t already empathise completely.

And weirdly enough, it gets to a point where you two switch positions without breaking the crushing amount of contact you have. It gets to a point where you insist on watching the most boring documentary he’s ever seen on revolving door manufacturing. It gets to a point where you pass out after 15 minutes and turn over into his chest.

He doesn’t dare move. Not until he’s effectively sure you won’t be waking up anytime soon. Spencer falls asleep with your soft breath fanning across his chest and his hands tangled in your hair.

5. A Librivox Recording of ‘The Five Orange Pips’

Now this is ridiculous. And he says as much as you roll your eyes. You’re both sweaty and exhausted and he’s sure he’s never met someone who looked this awake after a romp at one AM. Your eyes are twinkling the same way someone does after they’ve run a mile and feel like they need to run another. You’ve got energy and he can’t fathom it.

“Spencer,” you whine, falling back into the bedsheets. It’s really the first official time you’ve spent at his house as more than a friend—much more. He’s gotten accustomed, understanding even, to the little podcasts you listen to to fall asleep. There’s no sense in understanding your sleeping habits, not yet at least, but he understands the boring, droning voices you let lull you to sleep.

But this! Sherlock Holmes?

“Y/n, I literally have the story on my bookshelf. I could read it to you if you’re so choosy!” he mirrors your position with a huff, already reaching out to drag you over into his side. The feel of your skin is addictive. The safest kind of high he can get. The only one he really wants.

You pout, sticking out your lip. It’s adorable and breaks the tweak of frustration resting hard in his features. “Love-bug, with you talking to me, I’d never fall asleep. It just doesn’t work like that and I don’t make the rules.”

“Fine,” he mutters, effectively pulling you close enough you can share the one pillow. You giggle, kiss his nose, and reach behind you for your phone. It takes five seconds for the Librivox recording to start and he realises that as he listens to the intro, he’s already dropping off. It’s understandable—he guesses—but he hopes that one day you’ll pick a story he hasn’t read already.

9. News in Slow Spanish

Listening to you get ready for bed will never be tiring, Spencer thinks. Not when he’s playing a game with himself. He’s so terrible at guessing what you’ll choose to listen to. There’s never any rhyme or reason. Never a solid thought process that he can decipher. He’s kept to making a list—half because he likes lists, half because he wonders how long it’ll get.

Four months in and he’s at number 9—more or less.

This one shocks him though. Has him poking his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush still stuck in his mouth. You’re pulling your hair out of a pony tail, humming along to the intro music for a newscast in Spanish. Do you speak Spanish?

“Sugar plum—“ he loves every weird nickname you’ve given him over the months— “I can hear the whine of your brain from here.”

It’s then you turn to really look at him. Smirking. Gleaming in the shadows of the bathroom light. Wearing nothing more than a sports bra and shorts. His mouth runs dry as he tries to keep his thoughts present and clean.

He takes the toothbrush from his mouth. You giggle as he speaks through the spit. “Do you speak Spanish?”

“I must not talk about work enough,” you mutter to yourself, slipping into bed. Like you belong. “My entire job is setting up relationships between the hotel company I work for and Latin American, well, anything. Hotels, river cruises, restaurants—I speak Spanish more than I do English some weeks.”

He nods, finishes brushing his teeth to process the thought. No, you don’t talk about work enough, and he’s suddenly worried about what you don’t talk about. It suddenly feels suffocating. Like he doesn’t know a single thing about you. Like he’s never known anything about you.

But as you drag yourself into his side once he’s beside you, as you kiss his cheek and settle in, he’s reminded that he doesn’t need to know everything to care. For you to care back. There’s enough time in the world to figure out all the other stuff. He’s content to learn as it comes. Appreciate every new thing he can get his hands on.

And, hey, if you listen to this podcast enough, he might learn Spanish too.

11. Whose Line is it Anyway? Reruns

“No, absolutely not. I’m putting the kibosh on this. The applause will drive me wild. Please, y/n, anything else.”

15. Spencer

If there hadn’t been a nightmare involved, it wouldn’t have been as terrifying to find you not in bed. To hear the door latch click with someone’s arrival. Or someone’s departure.

He’s out of bed before he can process. Before his brain can calm down enough to remind him that it’s fine. That there’s no way a burglar is going to be as loud as you’re being in the next room over.

He jumps out of the bedroom, ready to strangle the intruder with his bare hands, when you give a startled shout, “Jesus christ!”

Spencer settles. Realises that it’s just you in a sweatshirt and slippers. You look utterly exhausted in the dim light of the apartment. Fidgeting and restless despite the slump to your shoulders. He vaguely wonders if he should make you a pot of coffee to calm you down.

The world catches up to him and he slumps into the wall. Is it so wrong to be this decidedly tired after a nightmare that he could’ve sworn wasn’t coming back? The two of you stare each other down, both equally apprehensive to the other for decidedly similar reasons.

Spencer’s entire body is beginning to light on fire. He doesn’t want to burn you in the process.

You’re buzzing and tired and angry and there’s no reason to take any of that out on him.

“Can’t sleep?” he finally prompts.

You scrub your hands over your face, fluff your curls, in response. “I walked the stairs four times, bug. I’m so—“

“Frustrated?”

“Yes.”

He nods his head, waves you over. You half heartedly trudge over to him, lean your head into his chest and feel at least a tiny amount of frustration drift away. He pulls you both back to bed—he can’t believe he’s functioning this well, but maybe it’s just because he’s fulfilling the need to think about anything else. There’s a hesitance as you lay back down and he knows that you’ve probably tried everything. That you don’t believe you’ll get any sleep at 2:45 in the morning.

“You’ve worked through the list then?” he asks. Your eyebrows pinch as you settle onto your side, giving him your full attention. “The things that make you fall asleep,” he clarifies, “you know, that list.”

“Do you—do you keep a list?” your voice is almost judgemental, but decidedly too curious. He nods. “I’ve never had anyone care that much.”

“So where are you at?” he says instead. There’s too much to unpack. Too much for his still swimming brain. He needs something concrete. “What’ve you tried?”

You go through your list, letting every inch of agony you’ve faced for the last four hours creep over your face. Spencer watches as you turn over one more time and groan into the pillow. “I think I’d rather just suffocate at this rate.”

He chuckles. “Stop being dramatic. Come here, let me try something.”

“But—“

“Just—please, y/n?” he doesn’t understand your refusal to trust him sometimes—it’s always about such strange things, like how he does the dishes or what brand of milk to buy. You scoot over to him, settle into his chest with an indignant huff. As if you aren’t tightening around him like a vice.

He clears his throat, drags his fingers softly up and down your spine, and picks the most boring thing—for you at least—he can think of to recite: quantum physics. He feels you relax after a minute. Your eyes close and your nose sinks a little deeper into his shirt. It takes nearly two chapters to get you to zonk out. Long enough that he’s worried you were right, that he was just too interesting for you. Even if he was reciting quantum physics literature.

He keeps droning for a little time after he thinks you must be—have to be—asleep. And just as he settles, just as his eyes are closing and he could drift off peacefully, he doesn’t miss the ever quiet, ever gentle words, “You’re too interesting, Spence, too goddamn interesting.”

You roll over, your back pressed against his side. He wants to laugh. He doesn’t, just ends up dreaming of something nearly as peaceful as falling asleep beside you.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #Criminal Minds

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cozycryptidcorner · 4 years

Photo

Potamoi (Greek River God) x Reader (sfw)

A commission for the wonderful and kind @atalantaroars! She wanted a meet-cute with the monster match I wrote for her awhile ago. Hope you all enjoy the hunky water boi as much as I did creating him!

There are two options for you today: hike a trail, or go one more week in the stifling silence of your house and go absolutely insane. It doesn’t take much mental convincing to pack up a little backpack with snacks and water, waking up while the sun is barely more than a hint in the sky. This might not be your usual mode of operation, to drop everything and spend time out in nature despite whatever responsibilities you still have at home, but you’ve been pushed to the fucking brink lately and need to spice things up.

There’s an unmistakable scent of growth the moment you step out of your car, one that calls your body forward as if you say welcome home. You take in a few long, deep breaths, trying to let the cold morning air medicate your soul in the only way nature can, a deep sense of relaxation overcoming your mind and body as you try to clear your worries away. Only when you feel mentally ready to take on the hike, do you approach the entrance of the nature reserve.

A large, wooden board is painted with the many different trails you can take, all winding around the mountain range, labeled with various symbols that indicate difficulty levels. While you don’t think you could manage one of the more difficult ones, you also think you might not find much fulfillment in one of the easier paths, so you settle for one a bit in the middle. This trail should wrap around one of the valleys, following the main river that brings life to a neighboring town, one fed by the melting snow from the tips of the higher peaks.

Everything is quiet, peaceful, you don’t see anyone else as you begin to walk the trail, basking in the sunlight before it’s drowned out by the towering trees. Birds chirp as you continue on, sticking close to the side of the matted dirt, right where vegetation dares to attempt growing. Wildflowers dot the side of the hill as the earth swells upward, white, light blue, and yellow smattering color amidst the green. The air is almost shockingly different from what you’re used to, your body is trying to compensate for the freshness, but it doesn’t quite know how yet.

When you take a break, the sun is already high in the sky, sweat now beading down your forehead. The water you carelessly packed tastes divine, you have to be careful not to drink too much or too fast, saving most of it for later. You even eat your lunch when you get to a pile of rocks that work as a table and seat, the flat, elevated surface perfect for tossing your food onto without worrying about it falling off.

Once you are satisfied that you’ve explored the trail as long as you desire, you decide that it’s about time to head back. Even though your path into the forest seemed straightforward and easy to remember, there are suddenly several branching paths that you didn’t even realize you passed just moments before… which isn’t good, to say the least. Biting your bottom lip hard enough to taste blood, you try to logic yourself into taking the one that seems like it blends seamlessly into the trail you’re walking.

Or maybe it would be best to keep going in the direction you were already heading, after all, the trails are supposed to loop around and head back to the parking lot, the keyword here being eventually. Some of them are supposed to take a seasoned hiker a full day, and you don’t remember how long this certain one is going to take because you had decided previously that you would turn back anyways.

Letting out a breath, you decide that it might be a better option to take the more straightforward path instead of risk getting lost, so you tighten the straps of your backpack and keep walking. As you go, you think about how best to ration what’s left of your water, in case you’re in for a much longer hike than you initially anticipated because you’re not sure if you can realistically make it.

You take another well-needed rest after a long while, trying to close your eyes and chill out, trying to find the same solace in nature that you felt earlier in the morning. Instead of that same, peaceful aura that settled around your body in a soft, gentle wave, you only feel more tense and anxious as you did before. The sounds of the forest are no longer warm and inviting, the screech of cicada is now like a hard, ugly accusation, the occasional snapping of twigs don’t fill your heart up with the thought of life, and the sky’s tone seems to turn almost a hateful gray as the sun makes an almost hasty descent.

Up ahead, there’s a river, and if you remember correctly, civilization is often downstream. Letting out a breath, crossing your arms over your chest, you look down at the water, internally fighting over what you should do. After a long moment of contemplation, you decide to stick to the trail, but just as you take a step on the crunching gravel, you spot someone over by the water. To say you almost tripped over yourself to get to them wouldn’t be an understatement; you almost bite the dust before you were able to catch your balance.

After regaining your stability and taking a second look, you realize with no small amount of shock that the man appears to not only be petting a deer but also… talking to it? You can hear the voice he uses on it, soft, soothing tones, clearly offering comfort of some kind. Whatever he is doing must be working, because the deer slowly stops thrashing about, it’s squeaking cries slowly dissipating as it seems to melt back into a state of calm.

Even though his back is towards you, he seems to sense your presence, because there’s an underlying tenseness in his body posture. Once the deer doesn’t seem too anxious anymore, he says, without so much as turning around, “I know you’re out there, at least do me the service of showing your face.”

“Um,” you say, after a moment unsure of what else to do, but introduce yourself, “hi. I’m very lost right now.”

When he doesn’t immediately respond, you wonder if he maybe was referencing some other person that is also hiding in the woods?

“I suspected,” he pets at a deer you hadn’t noticed prior, glancing up at you only after he manages to calm the creature down from its initial panic, “we don’t get a lot of your kind out this deep in the forest.”

“Er,” you look over at the deer, who seems to be regarding you with the utmost suspicion, “yeah, I wasn’t really planning on coming this deep into the forest, either. But, like, if you could point me in the direction of the parking lot, or literally any major highway, that would be absolutely fantastic.”

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s a massive, as in, you knew he was large for a man when you approached him, but you’re just now processing it all. He very well could be some kind of action movie star, his muscles, face shape, and stature all suggest that he’s very, very important, and you should pay attention to everything he says. As you watch him, he seems to look upwards at the sky, brow furrowed as though doing many mental calculations, then sighs.

“You won’t be able to leave this pocket of the forest until morning,” he says, releasing his steady hand on the deer’s flank.

“Um, what?” You aren’t sure if you heard him correctly, but you’re pretty certain he did not tell you that you can’t leave. “How is that even supposed to work? I came in through the main trail, surely there’s a way back.”

“Not once the sun is no longer in the sky.” He picks up a stick from the nearby banks, and now you realize that while his lower half is in the water, it’s not… it’s not human colors, more like… a kaleidoscope of some kind? Like he’s wearing those fancy mermaid tails, the kind you can buy off the internet, except what reason could he possibly have to wear one in the middle of a forest? “You will have to wait for night to run its course before you can return.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s not how basic geography works,” you say, tensing at the thought of spending however many hours the sun is gone out in the wilderness.

“It has nothing to do with basic geography, and you will do well to heed my words,” the man almost snaps, only marginally restraining himself from sounding rude. “This part of the forest encloses once the sun sinks below the horizon, and opens when it returns. It is this way to protect what little of Gaia’s children are left from your kind.”

You swallow nervously, not believing him in the slightest, so you think over your options in the meantime. There isn’t a lot for you to work with, your phone has no signal, and using your flashlight will eat up the battery fast than you might be able to find your way back to the main trail. Still, you’d rather be apart from him, even though he hasn’t given you any weird vibes beyond the obvious, you don’t want to be stuck here with him overnight.

So you do what you think is best, turning around and heading back for the trail, except there isn’t any trail. And by that, even though you were just walking on a gravel pathway barely more than five minutes ago, and you know it was in this direction, it’s nowhere to be found. Sucking in your breath, you close your eyes and count to ten, then whirl around and march back to where the man still lounges, halfway in the stream.

Trying to keep your voice from wobbling, you ask, “can you please point me to the regular trail? I think I… um, misplaced it.”

He pokes the water with the stick without looking at you, “you won’t find it until sunrise.”

Swallowing thickly, you try to say without trembling, “I don’t understand.”

With a sigh, he turns to the sandy banks, using the stick to draw a rudimentary chart, and in the dying light of dusk, you can manage to make out what he’s trying to convey. “This is the land of Gaia,” he draws out a circle, “which is the world you are familiar with. It is the physical plane at its most fundamental levels, meat and bone and blood grow and churn within the earth mother and her offspring. This land- this forest, is not a part of Gaia’s form,” here, her draws another bubble, halfway in the larger circle, halfway out, “halfway physical, but able to separate as it needs to. Do you understand?”

“Not really,” you say, trying to be truthful, and still just as anxious and frightened as ever.

He lets out a frustrated breath and tries to reiterate, “this separate pocket of world that can be hidden away or entirely separated on its own, and closes itself off once the sun sets. You must have stumbled over the boundaries while you were wandering, did you end up seeming to go around in circles on paths that don’t make any sense?”

Oh, god. “I- yes.”

“Exactly what I thought.” There’s a shimmering glimmer in your periphery, and you realize that his lower half is, in fact, a tail. “I’m sorry to inform you that you’re just going to be stuck here overnight.”

You feel absolutely defeated, miserable, broken, because how the hell are you supposed to be handling this now? Apparently, you’re trapped in some sort of fucking pocket dimension, and you can’t do anything about it, and the only other person here to help you is some sort of merman who seems less than pleased to be in your presence.

“So I just… wait here?” You’re doing your best to not cry, goddamnit. No fucking tears. In the meantime, you’re digging around your backpack for your can of bear spray, of which should completely wreck the man should he try to make the wrong move.

“I suppose,” he softens, just a bit, “you can stay here with me, because there are things roaming these woods that wouldn’t dare approach you so long as I am here.”

Oh, wonderful. “That would be nice,” you mumble, plopping yourself onto a rock, folding your legs up and making yourself seem small.

The woods are never really silent, so even though the two of you share no conversation, there is a background filled to the brim with dozens of different noises. Nocturnal creatures begin to creep out of their homes, an owl hooting just close enough for you to make out its specific call, crickets still chirping despite the descent of the sun, and the crunching of stray twigs and leaves upon the ground suggests a silent stalker. You’re suddenly thrilled to have accepted this odd man’s offer to stay by his side for the night.

The stars blink down, twinkling in the sky, almost like each individual eyes staring down at you from above. You remember that Ancient Greeks believe that each cluster used to be a living thing- Caster and Pollux, Cassiopea, Orion, and so on, people who died and then ascended into the sky to watch the earth below. You wonder if they are like guardians, keeping the inhabitants of the ground safe from anything that lurks in the depths of the void above, or if they are merely passing observers to whatever happens around them, trapped in time.

“So,” you swallow almost painfully, trying to make some conversation, “how do you know so much about the way this, um, pocket dimension thing works?”

“I told you that Gaia herself is protecting her children,” he says, not impatiently, nor unkindly. “The last effort to keep Prometheus’ biggest mistake at bay.”

“Right, of course,” you say, not believing him in the very slightest. “And you live here, then? With the blessings of Gaia?”

“Of course,” he says it like there’s no other possibility, “she looks after her children.”

“And I’m just a spawn of Prometheus?” You say it with some amount of humor, poking at his weird explanations, but he takes it seriously.

“Even if there are those here who would have you killed, just to chew your bones between their teeth and taste your blood. I will not allow that to happen.”

“Oh,” you say, trying not to sound awkward about it, “thank you.”

Silence follows, and you hear some crunching of leaves accompanying the water trickling through its creek. Still, you’d rather not spend the night in awkward silence, so you chew your bottom lip and try to quickly come up with something else to talk about. Anything. You wonder if he might know about modern devices, or if he would even care, but you need to reassure yourself now that it’s too dark to see that he’s still there.

As though reading your thoughts, he speaks first. “Tell me about your home.”

Relief fills your veins, so you do. You spill your guts like you’re at a confessional and it’s your death day, opening up every single crevice of your life back in reality and letting it pour out of your mouth like a broken dam. Where you were born, where you lived, where you moved, school, the people who went to school, friends, families, enemies. Not necessarily in that order, the night goes so shockingly fast that you barely keep track of what you’ve already said. You tell him about cities, about corporations, about countries, about charities. Humanity at both its best and its worst, and even what happens in between.

He’s a good listener, too, offering questions here and there, following your train of thought even though sometimes it doesn’t even make sense to you. He seems to be able to pick up on any gaps of logic you’ve forgotten to say, asking for clarification on some things, wishing for more detail on others, even requesting information about kingdoms you know haven’t existed for hundreds of years. And… better yet, he seems to enjoy talking to you.

“So,” you say, putting on your jacket to fight the biting night chill, “does this part of the forest happen every single night?”

“Yes,” he says, and you may be imagining it, but you think there might be some kind of tone of relief in his voice. “Yes, the forests merge every day, only to part during the night.”

“Theoretically, then,” you fan your fingers out, folding them together, “I could come back. To… like, visit, or something.”

“If you wanted to, then yes, you most certainly could.”

You close your eyes tight, shutting out the stars and the moon. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose or anything, but like, if you’d want to know more about the modern human world, I could come back prepared. With like, an iPad and a PowerPoint ready.”

“Would you?” He sounds a bit mystified, and you realize you probably didn’t cover those two things during your talks. As he mulls it over, the first element of daytime bashfully pokes out from the trees, the sky lighting just enough to swallow up the stars.

“If you wanted my company.”

“Yes,” he says very firmly, “you’re…. Fascinating, a very fascinating specimen of your species. I do not sense any bloodlust that I’ve heard is so very common in your kind.”

That’s the nicest thing he’s said about you, and you find your chest thundering in response. “Tha-thank you, I guess.”

“And I would also like to see this iPad and PowerPoint.”

You feel your cheeks redden slightly. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

#exophilia #greek god #deity x reader #deity/reader #greek god/reader

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years

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Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 15

Word Count: 2,842

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: Here we are with the next installment. As always feedback is welcome. Also still looking for candidates for thirst night if anyone wants one.

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

The following morning, much to Sid's dismay, you were up and out of bed early. You had to be at the arena early to help with the parade organization. It was a complete whirlwind until Sid got there and then he literally picked you up and tossed you into the back of the pickup he was riding in. The streets of Pittsburgh were lined with so many people. They were hanging out of building windows and off of parking garages. The whole experience was completely surreal.

You were sitting on the edge of the pickup with Taylor, laughing and just taking everything in, while Sid stood holding the cup, and waving to everyone. Halfway through the parade, he hauled you up beside him, one hand on your waist. "This is unbelievable isn't it?" He shouted to you above the cheers.

"It really is." You tried to pull away to go sit back down, not wanting to take the attention away from him, but he held you close.

"Relax and enjoy the moment (Y/N). I didn't get to share this with you on the ice, let me at least do it now." His eyes stared intently at you, leaving you no choice but to nod before his lips captured yours. The crowd cheered even louder, for Sid was always so intensely private, that they felt like they were getting a glimpse into his personal life; which they were. However, it made you blush profusely.

You hung off to the side with his family as all the players went up on stage. The celebration seemed to go by in a flash. One minute they were calling each of the guys up and the next minute Phil Borque was telling everyone they were going to take the cup to the river and party all summer, to which the enthusiastic crowd just got louder. You insisted on staying to help afterward, even though Sid pouted. Reluctantly, he went home with his parents after you promised to head to his house immediately afterward.

Dinner that evening wasn't an elaborate affair. It was just the five of you ordering takeout, so you could plan out the rest of the summer. A brief conversation earlier in the day with Mario, confirmed that Sid was correct and you literally could spend most of the summer anywhere you wanted. You and Sid decided to head up to Canada in two weeks. He had locker cleanout in a few days, then you needed to be in town for the draft, as you'd be showing the newcomers around Pittsburgh. You tried to insist that he head up to Cole Harbour without you, but he wouldn't even discuss it. With most of June gone by then, you felt as if you were taking what little summer he had away from him. He brushed past your objections and moved on to going to Europe. At the end of the night, the entire summer was mapped out, and you felt as though you'd be living out of your suitcases until September, which really wasn't much of a difference to what your life had been like the last several months.

Hours later you were climbing into bed with Sid, exhausted from the day. Surprisingly, he'd actually accepted your no sex rule while the parents were in the house that night. It somewhat shocked you, considering how the night before had gone. "I think I can wait the twelve hours until their gone." He chuckled as he wrapped you in his arms and drew you near.

"Interesting, since you couldn't last night." You chirped him.

"Full disclosure," he said, his hand idly rubbing circles at your hip. "I missed hearing you moan out my name last night." The sentiment was sweet and sexy all at the same time.

"Really?"

"Mmm," he hummed out, pecking your lips. "I plan on making up for it the minute they head out the driveway." It was your turn to laugh only to have his mouth cover yours, in a kiss that stole your breath away and had you moaning into him. "Fuck, baby I was going to be good tonight, but then you go and do that."

"If I'm too much of a temptation maybe I should head home." You teased.

The hand on your hip pulled you in closer so that no space separated the two of you. "Don't even think about it. Now go to sleep woman before I can't control myself." He kissed you one last time before you both closed your eyes. If you were being honest, you found it hard to fall asleep. It was as if your body was aware of every detail of the man next to you. His hand on your hip felt warm, where it laid and you could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Your hand unconsciously moved up and down his back feeling the muscles there, while your legs were pressed up against his thighs. You willed your mind to think of anything but the man beside you. In the end, you started making a mental list of all the things you needed to do before leaving for Cole Harbour.

There were tons of work-related items that needed to be done, as Mario had put you in charge of overseeing the construction of the temporary players' house, he was having built. It was one of the suggestions you'd originally given to him when he hired you. Though in truth you hadn't meant for him to build a house, just maybe get a couple apartments downtown or something. But when he came to you, after buying a piece of property near the practice arena, you had to admit you were excited. Before you knew it, you were picking out designs and hiring contractors all during playoffs. With construction already in progress, there were dozens of things you needed to see to before heading off.

Thankfully, thoughts of tile patterns and kitchen cupboards put your restless body to sleep, for the next thing you knew, morning light was streaming through the window. "Morning, baby," Sid whispered as you peeked your eyes open.

"Mmm, what time is it?"

"Almost eight. I think my parents are awake. I can smell the coffee." He smirked at you before capturing your lips with his and kissing you awake. You had to admit, you could get used to waking up like this every morning. His erection pressed into you and you pulled back from the kiss to see where his thoughts were. "Sorry babe, I can't help what you do to me."

"Well, only a few hours and you have me all to yourself."

Sid groaned before rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. "You're killing me. You know that right?" You simply hummed your agreement for he wasn't the only one suffering here.

"Come on, let's get up and head down." He groaned some more but followed your downstairs where you spent the next couple hours with his family. All three of them hugged you goodbye, saying they couldn't wait to see you in a couple weeks, before heading out to the airport. You and Sid stood in the driveway waving goodbye as they headed out. True to his word, the minute the car was out of the driveway, Sid turned you into his arms. His hands grabbing your ass and hauling you up so that you had no choice but to wrap your legs around him. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you back inside where I can ravish you." He stopped and looked down at you midway to the door. "Unless you just want me to take you here outside."

"Sidney!"

"Is that a yes or a no? I can't tell." He chuckled, before heading into the house.

"Put me down before you hurt yourself." He gave you that incredulous look as if he didn't lift three hundred pound weights daily.

"I won't hurt myself; you hardly weigh anything." He stated as you made your way to the kitchen. "But…" He stopped and leaned you against the island, where you gave him a questioning look. "I've always wanted to…" He suggestively raised his eyebrows.

You caught on to his meaning. "Here? In the kitchen?" An innocent look crossed his face, and it was cute to see the blush that stained his cheeks as he nodded yes.

"Unless you don't want to?" Your whole relationship with Sidney was new, including your sex life. So you thought it was cute that he gave you the choice. You locked your lips with his by way of answer, opening immediately for him to plunder inside you. He pressed you against the counter harder, as he ground his hard length against your clothed core. The friction felt delicious, however, you wanted more. You wanted his length buried deep inside you. He sensed your needs and set you on the counter, mouth still fused with yours; as his hands snuck down to your waistband. You lifted your hips up so he could slide your clothes off. Spreading your legs, he stepped inside, as he undid the button of his fly.

You broke the kiss to shuck off the shirt you'd had on, tossing it to the ground. His pants were down around his ankles and he kicked them off to the side, before trailing his fingers down your body to your pussy. "Fuck, baby, you're dripping."

"I want you, Sid." You breathed out unashamed that your body had been thinking of this moment for quite some time. He moved, so that his cock was positioned at your entrance, but then he stopped and you whined.

"Shit," He swore, and the next thing you knew he was searching for where he had tossed his pants. You gave him a confused look, as he retrieved the condom from his back pocket, things finally clicking into place. "Sorry babe, you make me forget things sometimes." As he rolled the condom on, you took a moment to appreciate his body, at least from the waist down as he hadn't taken the time to remove his shirt yet. His muscular thighs just set your body to flames, and your mind drifted to riding them only at the moment you really wanted Sidney inside you.

"So I take it you were planning the whole kitchen thing?" You asked as he shifted you closer to the edge.

"Well, I wasn't sure we'd make it to the bedroom." A giggle escaped your lips only to be replaced by a moan as he nudged the head of his cock inside you. "Is this what you want, baby?" You groaned out a yes, as he slowly slid inside you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and soon he was lifting you off the counter, taking all of your weight as he thrust in and out of your pussy. His lips sucked that tender spot on your neck and you held his mouth close to you knowing that there would be a mark there later, but not caring. Your back hit the edge of the counter as he thrust into you, causing you to arch into his arms. Reaching back, you held onto the counter as he continued to pound your pussy.

"Fuck Sidney, you feel so good," you moaned out as he that spot inside you that made you shiver. His mouth moved down to nibble on your breast, and you could feel your body humming with delight in every move that he made. With a few more thrusts, your orgasm hit you and you were spasming around him. "Sid!" You screamed out, yet he continued to pump in and out of you. Before you knew what was happening you climaxing again, and then Sid followed you, pushing you hard up against the counter so that is was biting into your back, though you didn't mind the pain.

"Shit, babe. I'm sorry," he huffed out when he saw you wincing in pain.

"I'm good." Sid carried you through the kitchen, and into the family room, laying you down on the couch.

"Better?"

"Yeah."

"Be right back," he slid the condom off and went to dispose of it; coming back with a wet cloth to clean you up. He collapsed on the couch beside you then curling you into him while grabbing a blanket to cover you both up. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?" He peppered kisses along your neck and shoulders.

"I'll be fine." You relaxed deeper into his chest and his arms came around your midsection to snuggle you close. Words hovered on both of your lips but yet neither of you spoke them, though you could feel them in the way he held you and touched you as if you were something that needed to be treasured. You hoped that you made him feel the same.

The week past pretty much the same way. There were tons of sex, in every room of his house and there were a lot of rooms. You'd even managed to make it to your place a few times, though you'd always end up back at his. Once the draft took place, the Pens flew out the new recruits for a look around the facility as well as the town, which meant that you'd be spending most of the day away from Sidney. He was reluctant to let you leave but told you he'd see you later.

While the Penguins drafted six players in total, only five of them made the trip to Pittsburgh. Alamari one of the late-round picks was in Finland and didn't make the trip. "Hi guys, my name is (Y/N) and I'll be showing you around today. We're so excited to have you as a part of the Pens family. I'm going to take you around the city first, then we'll head back here so I can show you around the arena." You piled in one of the Suburbans and took them up to Mount Washington giving them the best view of the city. Media was with you and captured a bunch of pics everywhere that you went. Two hours later you were pulling back into Consol Energy Arena. As you walked through the tunnels to where the ice was still on the arena floor, you could see many of their eyes light up. "So this is the arena," you pointed up the rafters. "And right there is will be hanging the next Stanley Cup Championship Banner. Hopefully, someday you guys will be standing on the ice watching it raised after your names have been engraved on the cup." You saw a few elbow pokes to each other, as their smiles were permanently etched on their faces. They took a bunch of photos before you moved everyone on.

"So here are the offices, but we also have places at the practice facility in Cranberry. This one is mine and the door is always open if you ever need anything when you're here." Unbeknownst to you didn't see the exchange a couple of the boys had. "And here's the locker room." They took in the unique oval layout which let the players interact with each other better. It had been a well thought out plan when they designed it, taking almost two years to make it the ultimate locker room in the NHL. You pointed out some of its uniqueness to the guys.

It was Connor Hall who finally asked. "What is it you do again for the team?"

"Oh sorry, I thought I mentioned that. I'm personal liaison to the team. Basically, I'm at every practice and game and help with communication between players and their families. I've also become sort of the go-to for anything the team may need." You chuckled mainly to yourself thinking of some of the things you'd gotten for the guys during playoffs. "Speaking of which, I need to take this call." It was Phil on the line. You'd helped him with picking out the perfect boat, but sometimes the man was helpless and you knew he was picking it up from the dealership today. You walked out of the locker room to your office, leaving the guys alone in the locker room.

"Did you hear that? She's a fucking liaison. You know what that means right?" Connor said to the other guys when you left the room.

"I don't know what you're talking about man," Filip Gustavsson answered.

"I think he means she's basically the team whore, but I doubt..." Ryan Jones added to the conversation.

"No fucking way," Joe Mansonius said in disbelief. "Do you really think they have one of those?"

"She practically says she does whatever the players need." Connor chimed back in. "Like look at her, she's fucking gorgeous…and those tits."

Kasper Bjorkqvist, the second-round pick finally chimed in. "Look man you shouldn't say shit like that."

"Why not I'm sure she hears it all the time." Little did Connor know you weren't the one who heard him talking at the moment.

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #Sidney Crosby Imagines #Sidney Crosby Smut #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl smut #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey smut #Pittsburgh Penguins fanfiction #Pittsburgh Penguins imagine #Pittsburgh Penguins imagines

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drabbledragon · 4 years

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Linktober: Surprise

This post is very close to the day 4 deadline but honestly, I had a lot of fun creating and tampering with the plot! Be cautious, though, because there is quite a bit of violence in this one.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749021/chapters/65454667

Summary: A new friend is brought to camp, and it surprises a certain Ordonian

Warnings: Some violence

Day 4: Surprise

It was a surprisingly cold day out, Twilight mused, although that’s to be expected as the season goes further into fall. The cold, crisp air and colorful leaves reminded him of his home back in Ordon Village; if memory serves, he would be harvesting Ordonian pumpkins with Fado right now.

He sighed wistfully and tended to the campfire with a long stick. He wondered how everyone back home was doing. Beth, Talo, Malo, and certainly Colin missed him, and he was sure Fado was struggling to herd all the goats back into their house without his and Epona’s help. And of course there was his mentor, Rusl - well, one of his mentors, he supposed, now that he met Time - along with his wife, Uli, who were most likely busy taking care of their newborn child; it’s a shame that he was never able to meet their new baby, but if he knew anything about Rusl, he would excitedly tell Twilight all about his child from sunup to sundown.

And how could he forget Midna? Their meeting may have happened by chance but he felt that they were destined to meet. They had grown to be close friends during their travels across Hyrule - maybe even more than that - and not a single day goes by where he doesn’t think about her. He wondered what would happen if he managed to say what was on his mind before she disappeared into the Mirror of Twilight; if his thoughts and feelings would be enough to make her stay, or allow him to live in the Twilight Realm alongside her. He could only speculate at this point.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a tan snout poked at his shoulder.

“Wild, is that a bear?!” He shouted, and he looked up to see his protege sitting idly on the creature’s back, a goofy grin on his face.

“Yeah, isn’t it great? I was out looking for herbs when I found a bear following me around! He looked like he was hungry so I did a little bit of fishing for him -”

Which meant Wild had jumped into a river, Twilight frowned, again.

“- And then we became best friends! Like he watched me cook them by the fire and everything! Although he was starting to lose his patience towards the end.” He shrugged nonchalantly as if a bear watching him cook was just another daily occurrence. “ Anyways, did you know he’s a big fan of Hearty Salmon? I’m more of a Voltfin Trout guy myself but to each their own, y’know?”

Twilight was barely able to make it through the whole story without pinching the bridge of his nose, “ Wild, you can’t just bring a bear to camp. You know full - well that that thing likes to go through food and attack anything it sees moving.”

“But he won’t, I promise!” The smile from Wild’s face had now given way to a defensive look, “ He’s very polite and friendly and hasn’t done anything to hurt me at all! Plus you always let dogs and cats follow you around, and you don’t even care when Legend brings a whole flock of seagulls to camp!”

The Hero of Legend stopped whatever he was doing at the mention of his name and gave the two a pointed look, “ Hey, you two leave the seagulls out of this.” But he was paid no mind.

“That’s because cats, dogs, and seagulls aren’t actively trying to maul me to death!” The Ordonian’s voice dropped to a lower volume in order to prevent the others from overhearing. “ You know how many times I almost got killed by a bear? Eight, and five of those times were as a wolf. The last thing I need right now is to make that number nine, or to have anyone die thanks to some idiot bringing a bear into camp. Really, you’re like the only one here who’s constantly putting us in danger.”

Perhaps he went too far on that one. He watched all the fight leave his protege like a potion being drained of its contents, giving way to wide eyes and a pale complexion.

“Wait, Cub, I didn’t -”

But Wild didn’t want to hear it. With a gentle tug of the bear’s fur, the Hero of Wilds nudged his companion towards the forest and left, not a single hint of hesitance shown in his actions.

Twilight watched as the figure disappeared behind tall trees and overgrown bushes, and a large part of him just wanted to shift into his Twili form and run after their trail, but he paused instead.

Wait, why should Twilight go after him? Sure, he’s his mentor and all and he feels like he has a personal obligation to protect the kid but now that he thinks about it, hasn’t he been coddling him too much? Too many times has he taken to his Twili form to find a lost Wild that had wandered to the other half of a Hyrule just because he had a need for adventure, and too many times had he had to answer to Time for the crazy stunt his charge had decided to pull just for curiosity’s sake. Despite being 117 years old, Wild acted like a child - a feral child, at that - that would rather spend the whole day messing around in an open field rather than helping the people who needed him the most.

He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. Seriously, how was Wild supposed to grow up and take responsibility for himself if Twilight was always there to bail him out? Maybe it’s about time for the Hero of Wilds to learn that he can’t just do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. He’ll learn in due time, Twilight assured himself, and he’ll be back by tonight for sure.

With that being said, he turned his back and went to go tend to the fire.

Wild wasn’t back that night. Everything seemed well among the remaining heroes, though: Warriors and Legend were locked in their usual banter, Wind and Four were telling exaggerated stories about their adventures, and Sky, Time, and Hyrule were all idly sitting by, amused by everyone’s antics; the only real difference tonight was Twilight and Wild, where the latter was nowhere to be found and the former worried profusely about his charge’s absence.

Twilight restlessly tapped his foot against the ground and stared into what Hyrule would call dinner. Seriously, where was Wild? The Ordonian thought that he would be back in maybe two, three hours max but it had been ten hours, and there was still no sign of him. Had he gotten hurt? Was he attacked by a hoard of Darias or Gerus that Hyrule often warned them about? Had a Zora grabbed him by the ankle and drowned him in a river? Twilight knew that his protege was very friendly towards Zoras so it really wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities.

“Go.”

He looked up to Time and stuttered out, “ H - Huh?”

Without ever shifting his gaze from the fire, he quietly whispered to his protege, “You’re worried about the cub, aren’t you? So you should go and find him; I’ll cover for you in the meantime.”

He processed the words for a few seconds, and then nodded. The old man was right: no matter how irresponsible, thoughtless, and careless Wild could be at times, he was still his protege, and as his mentor, Twilight should be there with him every step of the way, ready to help him up when he couldn’t find his footing in a situation. He left the group without so much as a sound, and as soon as he was out of sight, transformed into his Twili form and left, fervently following the scent of the former champion’s trail.

It had been about ten minutes by the time Twilight had finally found Wild. He was located in a small clearing of trees with, oddly enough, his bear companion laying down next to him; there was a small campfire going with a makeshift pot held over it, and the wolf could easily smell the tantalizing taste of Salmon Risotto.

He shook his head: this wasn’t the time to be salivating over the smell of real food. With a gentle command to his Shadow Crystal, his form shifted to that of a Hylian’s.

“Cub, I -”

Go away, Wild signed, and as if to emphasize, the large bear beside him growled.

The Ordonian immediately took a two steps back and sighed. This was going to be hard: not only did he have to worry about his friend fleeing if he got too close, but he also had to worry about a bear potentially running up and attacking him, and he really didn’t feel like defending himself from a creature twice his size. He finally chose to settle himself on the ground instead, intent on making himself seem as small and non - threatening as possible.

“Listen, I didn’t mean anything I said back there, alright? We got stranded in Hyrule’s Hyrule, we’ve been travelling for days, infected monsters are always showing up and trying to kill us, and I guess I was thinking about what was going on back home, so I was just really stressed out this afternoon. When you brought a bear to camp, I guess that was the final straw and I just took out all my anger on you. I mean, yeah, you really shouldn’t bring a bear of all things to a camp but that thing about you always putting us into trouble was completely wrong. If anything, we put ourselves into trouble, and it has nothing to do with you being here.”

He watched anxiously as his protege stirred the pot, never daring to meet Twilight’s own concerned gaze. He could see the bear beside Wild carefully watching him, paws resting readily on the ground as if it was anticipating for the Hero of Twilight’s one bad slip - up. After what seemed like centuries, the former champion finally let go of his ladle and brought his hands up to sign again,

You’re wrong, and that made Twilight lean forward, my whole life’s been nothing but bringing trouble to everyone. Back when my Hyrule wasn’t destroyed, everything I ever did just made things worse: I followed Zelda around, and she hated me; I protected people from danger, and now the Yiga are trying to kill me; I did everything I possibly could to prevent Zelda from dying, and I literally ended up dying right in the middle of Fort Hateno, and I was lucky that Impa was willing to put me in the Shrine of Resurrection. Now I’m here with eight different Links from eight different timelines and it looks like everywhere I go, trouble always follows. Just two weeks ago I led a bunch of Bokoblins to us because I took a couple of their weapons, and then five days ago I dyed Warriors’s hair green because I tossed him a green potion and it hit a branch and spilled all over him.

“Well that could happen to anyone,” Twilight interrupted, “ Those bottles are fragile so one small hit and they’ll shatter.”

Fine, but what about everything else? The Yiga, my Zelda, my Hyrule - everything’s a mess because I can’t get my life together; I can’t even remember what my life was like in the first place!

“That’s different! The part about your Hyrule being destroyed is all Ganon’s fault, not yours!”

Then why couldn’t I live up to be a true Hero of Courage like the rest of you? Why couldn’t I just stop this whole thing from happening in the first place?

Twilight was growing frustrated. Where was Wild getting the notion that he could’ve prevented an immortal evil demon from corrupting his Guardians? He was just a 17 year old kid back then, for Hylia’s sake!

He opened his mouth to respond back, retort at the ready, when a sudden axe whizzed by and lodged itself into the tree behind him. His surprised gaze quickly met Wild’s for a brief moment before he abruptly stood up, Ordonian sword at the ready. Just a few seconds later, a horde of snarling enemies pushed their way from the forest and surrounded the heroes from all sides.

The Hero of Twilight knitted his brows as he slowly stepped back toward the center of the clearing, “ Darias? But I thought Hyrule said they only show up around Death Mountain!”

“Infected.” Was all Wild whispered back, but Twilight completely understood. It had become a common occurrence by now to see monsters that they were sure only showed up in one place and one timeline now showing up all over different eras; and as if some of them having to fight monsters that they never encountered before wasn’t enough, the enemies’ blood seemed to make them stronger, allowing them to have the upperhand on any poor passerby they could fight.

And it looks like Twilight and Wild were a couple of those poor passersby.

The Hero of Twilight swiftly leaned his head away as one of the Darias swung its axe and in the same breath, the former pierced its chest and forced his sword up, causing the enemy to crumple to the ground in defeat. He rose his sword out of the corpse and grimaced: black blood, these are infected.

He perked up when he heard the dull thuds of feet running towards him and ducked just in time to avoid a monster from either side going to swing at him with their respective axes. He winced when the sound of two heads clunking filled the quiet night air and hastily got back onto his feet to slash at the two Darias writhing on the ground.

He felt light on his feet as he continued to attack the oncoming enemies. Some came to attack him on their own while others stayed stubbornly in pairs, but the process was all the same regardless: step, lean, duck, sidestep, block, spin, and end his foe with a well - practiced stab. If there were two coming at him, he just needed to be quicker, and that was no problem for a hero who was used to facing five Shadow Beasts at a time.

Every now and then he would catch a quick glimpse of his protege fighting just a few steps beside him, and just like always, every attack was graceful and cleverly calculated. The Ordonian grinned: Wild may act like a child at times, but he took his fighting seriously, and it showed through his undeterred concentration. No enemy should have ever made the mistake of crossing paths with the Champion of Hyrule.

The last enemy fell down in a graceless heap, and Twilight wasted no time in ending its life with an Ending Blow. There was something poetic about it, he mused as he sheathed his sword, ending a battle with an attack that his predecessor had taught him long ago.

He took an eager step forward towards his protege, congratulatory praises at the ready, when a scaled hand reached from behind and dug into his shoulder.

“Twilight!”

Wild’s shocked shriek rang through the air and Twilight had to do everything in his power to make sure that his pained yelp didn’t join it. His other hand scrambled to grab at the Daria’s wrist and when he did, he used every bit of energy he had left to force it back. The threat of an axe raised just above his head made adrenaline rush through his veins, and he became acutely aware of the blood running down his shoulder and soaking into his tunic; but he couldn’t pay any mind to it, because he needed to focus on biding time for a panicked Wild so he could swipe through his Sheikah Slate and find the weapon he needed.

But he didn’t need to wait for that because in a blink of an eye, a rush of brown fur dug its fangs into the enemy’s side and pushed its body aside, freeing the Hero of Twilight from the Daria’s grip. He watched the brown mass - which he now noticed was Wild’s bear companion - tear at the infected foe with sharp white claws and no mercy. The animal finally stepped back when the creature had been torn to shreds, and took a few seconds to make sure it was dead.

Twilight’s breath hitched when the bear started to pad towards him. He wouldn’t necessarily say that he had a fear of bears per se, but the sight of the very same creature that liked to use him for hunting practice was walking towards him did tend to make him feel a little bit unnerved.

However, to his complete and utter surprise, instead of the animal coming over to attack him, it instead gently nudged at his side and whined.

He froze. Was this bear trying to comfort him?

And with that very same suspicion in mind, the Hero of Twilight reached his free hand forward and tentatively placed it on the creature’s head, ruffling the fur in the same way the other Links did when he was a wolf.

“You saved me back there,” He smiled sincerely, “ Thank you.”

The creature yawned back in response.

He startled when he felt a gentle hand touch his good shoulder, and turned just in time to see the Hero of Wilds offering him a red potion.

“For your shoulder,” He urged, and when he saw his mentor ready to protest, he added in a quick, “ Don’t worry, I got 25 more in my bag.”

Twilight drank it greedily, and felt its healing effects immediately. He could dimly feel the gentle knitting of skin beneath his tunic, and when he looked at the injury, he found that there was nothing left but a few white scars; but even those would fade in a day or so.

He looked to see the former champion staring at the ground with his curtain of hair hiding his eyes, “ Jeeze, that was stupid of me. I should’ve kept an extra set of arrows at the ready; I could’ve helped you the second that Daria got you.”

“You did help me, well -” The Ordonian patted the bear standing quietly beside him. “ - your bear helped me, but you know what I mean. Sure, the thing saved me and all but if it wasn’t for you taming him in the first place, I wouldn’t have a ten foot tall animal here to save me. So really, because of you, I avoided getting an axe to the head.”

The Hero of Wilds beamed at him and for some reason, his small smile reminded him of Colin’s back home.

Ah, he wondered how Ordon Village was doing back home; how much Colin, Beth, Talo, and Malo grew up while he was away, and how Rusl and Uli were doing with their newborn, and how Mayor Bo and Ilia were running and keeping the town safe, and how Fado was doing with preparing the ranch for the winter; and how could he forget Midna? The leader of the Twili, the one who was always there to guide him on his adventure, the one he had grown to love. He missed them all dearly, but he knew he wasn’t alone.

Twilight ruffled a hand through his protege’s hair, “ Y’know, as much trouble as you are, I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

Because when Wild laughed, he was reminded that the Hero of Wilds was his family, too, and he would do anything to protect the ones he loved.

#linkeduniverse #hero of twilight #hero of wilds #fanfic #linktober2020

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astaralys · 4 years

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A Frozen modern AU oneshot

Oneshot collection can be read on: FFN | AO3

[Backstory chapter, direct continuation of oneshot #3, Searching] In which Anna officially moves in with Elsa.

-----

Anna sifts through the stranger and collects details like flecks of gold buried in the sands of time.

When she follows her sister through the airport and realises she still has to look up even though Elsa is only wearing flats: Wow, she's taller than me.

When Elsa tries to help her with the luggage and nearly drops it on her own foot: … But not exactly stronger. Got it.

When they get into a small white car: Oh, she does drive.

When Elsa struggles so badly to merge lanes she misses their exit on the freeway: Oh my God. She can't drive.

Anna tries so hard not to grip the door handle for security that she can't remember what she spends the ride rambling about. Her sister is mostly silent, all hums, terse nods and white-knuckled hands on the steering wheel. Anna tells herself it's because all of Elsa's focus is going into keeping them on the road, and not because Elsa, like, hates her or anything. That's absurd.

Right?

When they reach the city, Elsa's driving suddenly improves; Anna suspects it's because there's so much traffic they're barely moving. Sitting at a red light (Elsa slammed on the brakes when it turned yellow), Anna is so captivated by the bustle beyond her window that she nearly misses her sister tentatively asking, "Do you have your license yet?"

Anna snaps her head around too keenly, and winces when she sees Elsa flinch. Is she scared of me? "Sorry? Oh—my license? Ah, no, I kinda, um, failed the test. Twice. But I know how to drive!"

Elsa blinks, and Anna panics—crap, she thinks I'm a total dunce for failing twice—but then the lights go green. Almost immediately, the car behind them honks impatiently and startles them both.

Seeing her sister's shoulders tense up again ignites something inside Anna. She twists in her seat, stares straight through the rear window, and glares at the other driver. She can't tell if they can see her, but she likes to think it was the heat of her wrath that sent them scurrying into the nearest side street.

"What a stinker," Anna huffs as she turns back around. Then she remembers that it's not Kai in the seat beside her, and flushes as she glances towards Elsa. "Am I embarrassing? I'm embarrassing, aren't I? Hans always says so—i-in a nice way, of course. Like, you know, 'you adorable dork' or—"

"You're not embarrassing," Elsa says quietly. There's a pause as she carefully navigates an intersection. Then, "Hans is a friend?"

Oh, Anna realises. I'm not the only one playing detective.

"He's, um, a little more than that."

Elsa's surprise manifests as an especially jerky stop at a pedestrian crossing. "You're dating someone?"

The urge to defend him rises from nowhere. "You'll like Hans! He's a perfect gentleman with the sweetest sense of justice. He just graduated from law school. And he likes chocolate and sandwiches, just like me."

He didn't like you moving across the country, a niggling voice reminds her. Anna purses her lips and pushes the thought to the back of her mind.

"I'm sorry. That question came out strange." Elsa glances at Anna, adding softly, "Sometimes I forget that you're not five years old anymore."

"Well, we're lucky you remembered today, or you never would have found me in the airport. Waaait a minute… why didn't we just go to the information desk and tell them to make an announcement?"

To her surprise, Elsa laughs. "Haven't you had enough of that for a lifetime? You used to get lost every time we went shopping with Mom and Dad."

The memories come flooding in like a storm carving up a forgotten river. "Hey, you got lost all the time, too!"

"You got us both lost all the time."

The warm glow fills Anna's chest and remains there as Elsa turns into a long driveway leading down into the basement of one of the tallest apartments. Elsa takes a full five minutes to park, and then they're zipping up in the elevator.

Following Elsa down the plushly carpeted hallway, Anna discreetly pinches herself. Ow. It's actually happening. It doesn't matter that Hans planted that horrible question in her head ("You haven't lived with your sister in over thirteen years, Anna. How do you know she even loves you anymore?")—she's here. Elsa's here. They'll be coming home together from now on.

Then they reach the door at the very end of the hallway, fitted with one of those fancy keyless locks, and as Elsa reaches for it, she seems to remember something and says rather awkwardly, "It's your birthday."

She forgot.

It shouldn't be so surprising—Elsa hasn't been there for thirteen years of birthdays. Their parents would always give Anna 'a present from Elsa', but Anna knows how hard it is to pick out something for a sister she sees once a year at Christmas ("She likes books," Grandpa replied every time Anna called for research). And Elsa's presents are always a little too perfect, as if she still sleeps on the top bunk and can't escape twelve-year-old Anna gushing about skateboards. And after Anna noticed that, it became harder to ignore the voice that kept wondering if those presents were really from Elsa—a voice that is now smugly saying: I told you so.

"Y-Yeah! It was actually two months ago but time sure does fly. It was a super fun day—Hans and I went to an amusement park. I spent, like, two hours at the bottle toss trying to win this cute Baymax plushie. I've got it in my suitcase; I'll show you later. It's the best cuddle buddy ever."

This gets her an odd look from Elsa, but a beep from the lock distracts them both. Elsa opens the door. She steps back, gesturing shyly for Anna to enter first.

"There had better not be a trapdoor in there," Anna jokes. She doesn't know why she's nervous about this moment. It's a door. It's open.

She steps through.

Her first thought is that everything is minimalistic and very white. An open kitchen with an oak splashback against pale tiles. Cream carpet visible through a glass coffee table sitting in front of a light grey leather couch that looks more like a recliner for one than a place to watch Netflix with friends or sisters.

Even the bookshelves standing sentry on either side of the wall-mounted television contain neat rows of books with the stark pages facing outward. Anna opens her mouth to make a quip about finding any books—but then her curious gaze falls on the small dining table with its single placemat and chair.

Why does this detail hurt so much?

"This place is amazing! I bet myself ten bucks that you had great taste." Even Anna can tell she sounds too loud, too bright. "Remind me to treat myself. I'm craving chocolate fondue right now. Actually, scratch that. I'm always craving chocolate fondue. Any good places around here? Please say yes."

She hopes Elsa still likes chocolate and building snowmen.

Elsa hovers by the shoe cabinet, her left hand loosely gripping her right elbow. "Yes. I'll take you someday. Would you like to see your room?"

Anna catches herself on the verge of saying something stupid like 'Of course! It's the whole reason I'm here.'

"That's the bathroom." Elsa points to a door at the end of a short corridor, then gestures to two other doors on either side. "My room. Your room. I was only using it as a study, so it's very empty after I moved the desk to my room. We can—"

"Relax, sis! I'm so easy. All I need is a—" Anna throws open the door. "—bed."

It's literally the only piece of furniture in the room.

"Woooow. You really weren't kidding about empty, huh?"

Behind her, Elsa sounds apologetic. "I wasn't sure how you wanted to set it up, so I only got a bed. If the mattress is too hard or too soft for you, we can exchange it tomorrow. Or if you don't like the view, you can take my room instead. It really doesn't—"

"I love it." Anna spins around with a grin. "This means we get to go shopping together! But let's get IKEA to deliver to us, yeah? Your Mini Cooper can only fit, like, two-thirds of a flatpack. Ooh, I've seen apps that let you drag furniture onto photos to see how the room looks with—" She's interrupted by a shockingly huge yawn. "Goodness, 'scuse me. Where was I? Right—apps… Elsa? Where are you going?"

Her sister returns with the suitcase. "You just got off a plane; change into something comfortable and get some rest. Dessert and furniture can wait until tomorrow."

"But I'm not—" Another yawn swallows up the rest of Anna's sentence. "—sleepy… Okay, fine. But promise you'll wake me up for dinner, or my rumbling tummy will wake you in the middle of the night."

Elsa promises, and then the door closes with the softest of clicks.

Anna listens, but there's carpet and her sister moves so quietly that it feels like she's back in the big house. Alone. Except she's not.

She checks her phone. Nothing from Hans. She sends him a quick message to say she's arrived at Elsa's place, then looks around at her new room, and decides not to add a photo.

Her suitcase springs open as soon as she unlocks it, spilling her life across the floor. Gerda helped her pack, but none of her neat folding survives the trial of Anna digging for something to sleep in. Anna changes into pyjama bottoms and one of Hans' shirts.

Then her gaze catches on a grey, threadbare sweater.

There's a cartoon graphic of a single slice of pizza. The rest of the pizza is on her father's sweater; a matching Father's Day gift that immediately became a game of chicken. If one of them wore their sweater in the house, the other had to wear theirs, no matter how sweltering the day. It drove her mother crazy. "Can you two please stop wearing those long enough for me to wash them?" she used to sigh.

Now, pulling the sweater over her head, Anna realises in the darkness that it's the little details. It's the fact that their sweater streak was still unbroken when she answered the door to find two police officers solemnly waiting. It's electricity and phone bills that continue to pay themselves, because direct debits don't care that Anna's parents are gone. It's not being able to send videos of Elsa's horrible driving to the group chat because no one else will see them.

A knock on the door startles her. She whirls around with her head still stuck in the sweater and—oh no, bad idea.

"Anna? I forgot to give you… are you okay? I heard a loud noise."

Lying winded on her back, Anna wheezes, "Nothing! My shirt just fell."

"That was very loud for a shirt."

"Yeah, um, that's because I was kind of in it."

The door opens as she sits up. "Did you break anything?" Elsa asks as she helps Anna get her head through the sweater.

"God, I hope not. Keep all your favourite mugs away from me. Actually, keep all your expensive stuff away because I'm ridiculously uncoordinated. As you can see."

"I meant bones, Anna. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Oh." Anna lets out a laugh, rubbing an elbow. "Totally fine. Super thick skull. What did you forget?"

Elsa gestures towards the bed, where she's placed a stack of bath towels. "To give you towels in case you want to take a shower first."

"Thanks. Wow. That's… a lot of colours."

"I wasn't sure which ones you liked."

Anna blinks at her sister. Who might have given her a spare room with nothing but a bed, yet bought towels in literally every colour of the rainbow, just for Anna.

"Oh, and this." Elsa holds out a silver key. "In case the keyless lock fails for any reason. There's a panel you can slide down to open the door normally with this key."

The key feels both light and heavy in Anna's hands. She flashes Elsa a grateful grin. "I'm going to use this every day because that pin code looked so long, I'd forget it every day."

"I don't think you will."

"Hah. You don't know how bad my memory is." And Elsa really doesn't know, does she? There are so many things they don't know about each other.

But then Elsa cocks her head to one side and says, "You can't forget it. I told you: it's your birthday. Month, date, year."

When Anna stares speechlessly for too long, Elsa hurriedly adds, "When I moved in, I was told not to use my own birthday because it's too obvious, so the first thing I thought of was yours—b-but we can change it to your phone number if that's easier for you. Or maybe… Anna? Are you okay?"

The details Anna has collected scatter as she throws her arms around Elsa for the second time that day. Except this time, it doesn't feel like she's hugging a stranger.

When Elsa awkwardly rubs her back, Anna wipes her eyes on her favourite sweater and thinks: That's my sister.

#I actually wrote this before I finished the last chapter of TNU #and then deadass forgot all about it #I am a goldfish #frozen fanfiction #frozen modern au #snow sisters #elsa #anna #these days are precious #my writing

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thelioncourts · 4 years

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I need all the thoughts on horror and wild! Favorite song, lines, things, all of it

Oh, I don’t think anyone is ready for me to talk about this. I don’t at all. It’s been all-consuming, it’s been a constant ache at the back of my head when it’s not on, it’s been everything I never knew I needed – a modern Keatsian explosion of words full of pastoral elegance, ever-present darkness, and odes to beauty and life and death and all the things in between.

Now, every song is beautiful. I had put a review on Bandcamp that said it seemed horribly unfair to have to choose a favorite when each one has been on a loop nonstop since they’ve graced the public. But! I will tell you the ones I find myself gravitating toward more and more with each listen; there are four and in no particular order they are:

The Horror and the Wild

Welly Boots

Farewell Wanderlust

Fair

Favorite Lines:

1. The Rockrose and the Thistle –

A single thread hangs limply downAnd I breathe not now, not nowAnd I find you all unwovenTrying desperately to sew

2. The Horror and the Wild –

Welcome to the storm, I am thunder,Welcome to my table bring your hunger

3. Wild Blue Yonder –

Flirting(Wasn’t flirting) At the back of a bookshop

4. Welly Boots –

Get drunk for meSing louder than you’ve sung for meGrow young each time that thunder in your lungs begins to rumble at the world

5. Farewell Wanderlust –

Goodbye to all my darkness, there’s nothing here but lightAdieu to all the faceless things that sleep with me at nightThis here isn’t make up, it’s a porcelain tombThis here is not singing, I’m just screaming in tune because –

6. Fair –

How unfair, how unfair they’ll sing as they dance across the darling rooftop wreckHe’ll trip and she’ll pretend not to have seen,Burying her head into his chest and clinging to the moment, ‘where have you been?’She’ll whisper ‘I’ve waited oh so long for you to come’And as the stars above them hum and hear them he’ll turn to her and say ‘that’s what she said’

or, alternatively, the entire fucking song

7. The Unwanted Animal –

Cos if we join our hands in prayer enoughTo God I imagine it all starts to sound like applause.

8. Marbles –

Your eyes aren’t rivers there to weepBut a place for crows to rest their feet

9. Battle Cries –

And now at the end, at the end of all things,I’m not going to scream, beat my chest at the wind,I’m doing fine.

Favorite Things:

when Madeleine’s voice comes in on the second verse of “The Rockrose and the Thistle” barely audible over the winds

the way Joey’s voice gets quieter on the word “thistle” in “The Rockrose and the Thistle”

how Madeleine’s voice is significantly louder than Joey’s at the end of “The Rockrose” but it’s barely above a whisper

feeling like I’m on an adventure in an elven forest as soon as “The Horror and the Wild” starts!

every single word in “The Horror” that Joey sings that comes out with a growl

Madeleine’s high harmonies in the chorus of “The Horror” during the lines “they’ll sing of every time you passed your fingers through my hair”

the repetition of “remember me” and the way it builds significantly only to completely drop all the instruments

the ending guitar and drums and violin and the suddenness that the singing stops!!!

the contrast of Madeleine’s “I surrender what was, what could have been” to Joey’s “Don’t you ever wonder what could have been?” in “Wild Blue Yonder”

ROBOT VAMPIRE, I DON’T KNOW

(me using context to assume a welly boot is a rainboot but googling so I don’t turn out to be a complete idiot)

the entire story told in “Welly Boots” and the sense of aching and the sense of longing it invokes

“’How could you leave me here’ you’ll scream”

literally everything about “Farewell Wanderlust”

like? Madeleine was out to murder me specifically with the vocals

the piano

the slide she does from “say” to “You don’t know it yet” !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“But like rubbing wine stains into rugs it’s my curse

To try and make it right, but by trying make it worse”

the theatrical and bluesy quality of every single line and every note of each instrument

how Joey’s first lines are so ~low~

honestly everything after “The child you just didn’t have time to conceive”

“This here is not singing, I’m just screaming in tune” let me tell you! My breath catches in my lungs each time I hear this line!

the difference in the way Madeleine and Joey sing the chorus (this entire album is filled with so much contrast and dichotomy and it is. magnificent)

growling

every single thing Madeleine does from 4:45 to 5:00

Joey’s “Oh, he’s lost”

the entirety of “Fair” because my heart has literally not beat properly since I first heard it

to be perfectly honest, this song leaves me incoherent so, like, don’t expect any actual anything from me

“It’s not fair, because you make me laugh when I’m really fucking cross at you for something” literally the w o r s t thing someone can do, 100/10 will make me angrier

‘Oh howOh how unreasonableHow unreasonably in love I am with everything you doI’ll spend my days so close to you’

“I am more reasonable this morning. The morning is the only proper time for me to write to a beautiful Girl whom I love so much: for at night, when the lonely day has closed…then believe me my passion gets entirely the sway…”– John Keats to Fanny BrawneJuly 3, 1819

“Christ, you’ll be the death of me”

soft intimacy, let me tell you……yeah, I don’t actually have anything other than saying soft intimacy

when he sings “unreasonable” and there’s that voice break and honest to god my heart goes akimbo and I have found out why it’s not beat properly since I first heard this song

“How unfair, how unfair they’ll sing as they dance across the darling rooftop wreck/He’ll trip and she’ll pretend not to have seen,/Burying her head into his chest and clinging to the moment, ‘where have you been?’/She’ll whisper ‘I’ve waited oh so long for you to come’/And as the stars above them hum and hear them he’ll turn to her and say ‘that’s what she said’” – !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the whispered line of “You try so loud to love me” in “That Unwanted Animal”

1:34!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Cos if we join our hands in prayer enoughTo God I imagine it all starts to sound like applause.” followed by a laugh, oh god

the scream at the end – all the screaming – every single bit of it

the harmonies in “Marbles” during the chorus are so soaring-with-the-clouds beautiful

“You’re not flawed darling, you’re just a little under-rehearsed.”

my parents painted the family room of their first house lime green and my mom hated my dad for it and still brings it up 💚

“The minute I met you the colors of my life began to pour.”“I’m scared of the dark.”

how it’s only Joey’s voice at the last “I will wait and hope” ;;;

the almost The Last Five Years feel of “Battle Cries”

“Come on love, please don’t startSing your notes, play your partThen we’ll leave. We were gods”“With you I could summon the gods and the starsWatch them dance out the plays that we wrote from the heartAnd we’d laugh at the ghosts of our fears. We were kids.”

“This isn’t a breakup, dear heart, it’s a season finale”

#the amazing devil #the horror and the wild #madeleine hyland #joey batey #there is probably - no most definitely - so much more #but have my rambling #my tears #it's all given freely and will take up a good part of your dash in its existence <3

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pinencurls · 4 years

Text

Feels Like Home

Hiii this is another one shot I had in my drafts for awhile, hope u enjoy!!

A trip to visit Bestfriend!Harry pulls up feelings from the past.

To find places that feel like home when you're so far away from your own is always a blessing. I often find myself cooped up in train carriages for long empty hours travelling up and down the country - sometimes to nearby neighbouring countries too, with only a book and the view for company. Work in the photography and journalism industry can take you pretty much anywhere, photoshoots and research pieces usually mean I have to travel frequently. I've probably spent more weekends in hotels the past few years than I have in my small London flat, its lavender walls presenting more as a storage place these days and occasional safe haven for when I return.

Most of it is manageable - and exciting, really really exciting. A few times a year a piece will land me in the States and away from my bubble of European arts and culture. The company I work for has a New York branch outside of the London one, so in the times that I find myself flying miles away from home, I'm lucky enough to be welcomed by one of my oldest friends' open arms - and his guest room.

Harry works a lot too, splitting time between London and New York, but on this trip - as always, he's sworn an evening out of his day to pick me up from the airport. I don't get to see much of him anymore, we grew up spending every summer in each other's houses, our parents' old friends from university, but he moved away three years before me and never came back, at least not in the same way that allowed youthful abandon to drive us into the woods to build forts and swim in the river, or make us forget how old we were and fall asleep on his mum's old sofa watching questionable rom coms. I'd happily slip back into our shared holiday practises - every time I visit him there's a shadow of nostalgia when he brings two teas and a joint out to the living room, the same smirk clear on his now slightly unshaven face.

I try to focus on that moment, only a few hours away now. We'll spend tonight and tomorrow together before he can't miss any more studio sessions and I have to report to the office and start my week of work - an article on the rise of youth activists in underprivileged areas of the city. It's a heavy topic but something I've been interested in for a while - I love the music and cultural subjects I've written on before but I've wanted to branch out into a more political field for awhile now. Sandy, my editor, assigned me this a few days ago, a smirk on her face when she nonchalantly delivered it to my desk Monday morning.

. ... . .

My arms are folded up against my chest at an unnatural angle - I've spent the last hour like this in an attempt not to elbow the snoring banker to my left who is, undoubtedly, taking up more than his fair share of the three-seat row. I can't see much good coming from waking him to point this fact out so I stay settled in my awkward position. An eight-hour flight in the middle seat was never going to be comfortable anyway.

My morning had been typically rushed, I missed breakfast in favour of catching my flight before it left without me and found myself bustling through the crowds of families, business people and tourists that fill the airport as soon as I leapt out of the taxi. I didn't have to check any luggage in so sped through security straight to the gate being called overhead. I swear I've got to stop booking early flights if I'm never going to wake up in time to get a croissant from Pret en route.

I turn my focus to the phone in my hands and slip my headphones over my ears. There's only an hour left until we land, seeing no point in starting an inflight movie now, I open my "calm times" playlist and close my eyes. Soon I'll be sleeping on an unnecessarily expensive mattress bigger than this whole row.

. ... . .

"Excuse me, M'am?" The chipper voice of a flight attendant wakes me up, slightly muffled under the Adrienne Lenker song that continues to play through my headphones. The seat to my right, previously filled by a woman a few years older than me, is empty. On my other side, the suit-wearing man spreader is starting to stir. "We'll be landing shortly, please secure your seatbelts and pack away any loose items."

I stumble over a quick 'Thanks' as she leans out of our row and moves on to the next, her perfect customer service smile ready again. The missing woman makes her way down the aisle towards us and takes her seat, she seems hurried and agitated. Out the corner of my eye, I watch as she wrings her hands a few times, sighing heavily and leaning back in her seat. A nervous flyer. I lean over and pull my bag up from the small slot under the seat ahead and slide the book I'd taken out hours before, not having read a page of, back on top of my sweater and the wine gums I'd bought as a makeshift breakfast in my final flurry before boarding.

Overhead, the usual pre-landing announcements chime as people clip in their seatbelts and slip superstitious remedies between their lips. Suited man spreader has chosen a particularly eye-watering peppermint gum to finish our flight off with.

Closing my eyes I focus on the quiet music, too distant to take me out of my body as it's interrupted by the chatter of excited travellers and constant beeps around me. I don't hate flying, but I have developed a favoured fondness of trains. I've seen the ins and out of so many towns and mindlessly people watched for hours, always having the option to hop off at the next station and stretch my legs if any part of the journey is particularly unbearable or a city is too enticing to leave unexplored.

I fiddle with the two buttons along the side of my phone for a second, raising the volume a little and willing my thoughts away from the swooping plane as the familiar wary feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I'm a nervous flyer too. But, with a clunk and a slight wobble, we're back on the ground. I keep my eyes shut a little longer, knowing the gridlock of impatient passengers to come is unavoidable. The orange light above me dims and I release the seat belt that had been cutting tightly into my shoulder. The woman beside me is noticeably calmer and we share a giddy - we're strangers but we're smiling at each other - look for a second.

I call Harry when I'm through baggage claim, having packed only a rucksack and a small duffel - both fitting as hand luggage, I head straight through customs where the queues are just starting to build up. I beeline to a near-empty desk on the far right as the dial tone rings against my ear for the third time-

"Hello!" Harry greets down the phone, his voice sounds far away, most likely using the speakers in his car whilst he parks - "M' just parking, love."

"I just got to customs, I'll be ten minutes - meet you outside yeah?"

"I was gonna come in, I'll only be a second." He always pushes to meet me before I make it out the airport, obsessed over the classic reunion scene from all his favourite rom coms. It was well-intended and actually really sweet but it wasn't worth the risk of new rumours being spread across the gossip sites if photos got out of Harry Styles meeting a 'mystery girl' at the airport, as I'd previously been labelled the few times shots of us out dancing in the city or talking over lunch in L.A had gotten out. Harry's protective over his private life and I prefer to keep out of his public one.

"I'm almost through customs...I'll literally be one minute Harry, just wait in the car - wait a sec..." I hold the phone up against my shoulder when I'm beckoned towards the free customs desk, smiling politely and sliding my passport towards the teller. I reply 'work' to her question and thank her when she pushes it back to me, freshly stamped with red ink. "-Okay I'm out, are you by the taxi bit again - you know you're not actually allowed to park there?"

"Actually I'm just...oh god you really are blind aren't you?" He laughs down the line, I look up, confused and only halfway across the long white room towards the exit. Even amongst the crowds, there's an unmistakable figure waving from the benches to the side, phone in hand. "Hey."

I laugh and hang up, slinging my duffel over my shoulder and making my way over to where Harry is now standing, an infamous grin etched across his face. Before I can complain about just how close I am to the car park already, he leans down and engulfs me in a hug.

"Been a while, hmm?" Out of instinct, my arms wrap around him and hold tight. He's right, it's been almost five months since we last saw each other in person. I was away the last few times he came home to London and he's always jetted back to L.A for important meetings by the time I'm on my way back. "Missed you, lovie."

Pulling away to get a better look at him, I rest my hands on his shoulders, his hair's a little longer, and he looks tired but cheery - as usual.

"I missed you too." There's that weird hesitant few second feeling when neither of us breaks eye contact and for a moment it suddenly feels surreal to have each other as real people you can touch and hold.

"Now help me with this bag - the flight fucking murdered my back."

He misses a beat and my duffel hits his leg abruptly, he grunts and grumbles for a second before picking it up and draping his free hand over my shoulder, turning us to face the exit. I forget for a moment that the group of very unsubtle girls on the other side of the room will fuel the newest dating rumour by the morning with photos of Harry pulling my against his side and holding my hand casually - like every few days out of the year we get to spend in each other company, it feels like we're fifteen again and blur into the background, too caught up in our own conversations to notice anybody else.

"Come on - I reckon someone's already pissed that I'm parked in the taxi rank."

... . .

It's late in my jetlagged brain, but not late enough in the city to miss the last bit of rush hour traffic. Harry taps his ringed fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of Peter Gabriels 'Sledgehammer.' I've pulled my knees up to my chest and slouched against the passenger door staring up at the busy lights and cloudy sky. My eyelids dip momentarily, the blurred scenery lulling me out of focus.

"Don't fall asleep on me, I've got a nice dinner planned yet." Harry protests, squeezing my hand in his, eyes on the road as he lifts and moves our now intertwined hands in the air, swaying along to the final chorus playing through his iPhone."C'mon, a little bit of Peter Gabriel should wake you up."

"I hate Peter Gabriel," I mumble and pull my hand from his, poking his cheek when he lets out an exaggerated gasp. I can't help but laugh at his appalled expression, too distracted to object when he pulls my hand back into his and continues his fun as the speakers click and a new song comes on.

Our faces glow yellow against the street lights. My legs ache and my head feels heavy - I tilt it back against the window and watch as Harry sings along to an old Scott Mckenzie song. He's let our hands fall against my seat now, focusing on the busy roads as he turns closer to his apartment. I notice now, for the first time, his subtle disguise; the grey hoodie and dark shades pushed back in his hair. He looks...soft. He laughs when he slips off-key and shoots me a glance, smiling again when he takes in my half-asleep state. He squeezes my hand, his rings are cold and clunky and wake me up a little. I peer out at the road ahead - Harry lives fairly near the airport so we must be getting close, the cafes start to look familiar and I figure we're only a few minutes from home, and sleep.

I wake again at the jolt of the car stopping and the consistent white noise of the engine cutting off when Harry's keys clatter against each other. His door opens and shuts - I think I'm awake?

I must have shifted slightly in my sleep because when the passenger door swings open I stay upright against the seat. I look up to see Harry's hand stretched out towards me.

"C'mon, missing my luxury homemade dinner s'gonna be a lot more comfortable in a real bed" He teases, his smile yet to leave since I first saw him twenty minutes ago sat on that bench - sticking out despite his 'disguise'

I take his hand and tumble slightly haphazardly to stand, looking up briefly to see Harry with both my bags over one shoulder, lifting his free arm to wrap around me. We start towards his building, moving easily through the lobby and into the elevator. I look up again from where my head's resting on his shoulder, surrounded by his hoodie. Yeah, he looks...soft.

When we get inside I head straight to the guest room, nudged forwards by Harry's instructions for me to get some rest before he starts dinner - I've stayed in Harry's apartment enough times to know my way around fairly well, the guest room, where I always stay, is down the hall on the left. The bed is made and there's a fluffy white robe folded on the nightstand. Already head to toe in comfy travel wear, I clamber under the duvet and breathe in the freshly washed sheets - washing detergent with a hint of Harry's vanilla aftershave. My eyes are heavy and my thoughts wander a little. It feels like home.

... . .

When I open my eyes, it's to a darker room. Harry must have come in and closed the curtains while I was asleep, my bags have been leant up against the dresser too. I sit up and look around the room, rubbing my knuckles against my eyelids, still groggy from sleep, but hungry now, the lack of a real breakfast and unsatisfying plane food catching up to me. The alarm on the bedside table reads nine pm, I'd been asleep for almost an hour - I change out of my well-worn flight clothes and into a sweater and soft grey jogging bottoms Harry had left at my London flat last time he stayed over, although it'd been long enough ago they might as well be mine by now.

The kitchen sounds get louder as I make my way out of the guest room and down the hall, yawning into the crook of my elbow amidst pulling a soft yellow scrunchie off my wrist and taming my hair into a lazy, loose ponytail. Harry's occasional grumbles and soft singing fill my ears when I reach the end of the hall and get the full sight of him, in just a t-shirt and jeans now, leaning over a pan of spaghetti trying to twist a strand onto the fork in his hand before dangling in into his mouth with a light hum.

"How's it going, chef?" He turns to see me, eyes wide as he fingers the end of the pasta into his mouth and smirks down at me.

"S'good, was just about to come get you," He turns momentarily to fiddle with what looks like courgette and red pepper frying in a pan behind the spaghetti before looking back at me and motioning for me to bring him the plates he'd left stacked on the counter.

He mixes the courgette, pepper and a fresh-looking tomato sauce into the main pot and stirs it all together before filling my plate up and handing it back to me - all while looking incredibly pleased with himself. He nods over to the table and I set my plate down, taking two wine glasses from beside him and filling them with the wine he's just opened. After double-checking the stove's been turned off safely and our glasses are full, Harry takes the seat in front of me.

"So-" He starts, smiling up at me over the gorgeous dinner set in front of us. "How're you?"

A burst of laughter escapes my lips at the situation, We hadn't been in the same room for months and within the first hour of reuniting I'd fallen asleep, now we were sat down to dinner, ready to discuss our day like old times.

"I'm good, sorry I fell asleep before we could talk," He chuckles before taking a sip of wine, we hear about each other's lives at least once a week - usually phone calls when our jet lag causes our time zones to match up, and always texts throughout the week - this kind of small talk seems silly when I'd spoken to him just this morning before my flight. "How's your mum and Gem?"

"They're well, haven't seen Mum in a little while, every time I call she always seems more interested in you," He replies between bites of spaghetti, "Apparently you're quite the enigma these days."

"Wha-How!" Anne was like a sister to my mum so our families were always close growing up, she often acted just as motherly to me and my sister as she did her own children.

"You don't call anymore." Harry smirks, recalling a frequently used quote from Anne herself.

"That's such I lie - I saw her a few weeks ago when she came down to see Gem and I always call, it's hard you know, I have my own parents to keep track of too."

Harry laughs at this, pleased to have his mothers attention shifted from his own absence for once.

"I'm not sure, apparently she's been gossiping with your mum and you're never home anymore." He must not notice the irony of his words because he's hosting the smuggest expression, staring back at me over his glass.

"Hey - you disappeared first, I'm allowed to have my turn." I fire back, shaking my head jokily.

Harry doesn't seem to catch my light tone though, or he's not keen on my choice of words. He turns rigid opposite me and stares back, agitation brimming in his gaze.

"What's that mean?" He's not bubbly and blushing anymore, sober now with a steady assertive tone as he questions me.

"Come on Harry, m' just joking, relax," He doesn't. "You moved away years before me and never came back, it's not exactly a secret, I didn't mean anything by it."

His fork clatters when it lands on his plate. He puffs out a heavy breath of air before speaking up again, making no effort to hide is disdain this time.

"Fuck off, I came back." I look up to watch him, he hardly curses outside of mild frustration or a lighthearted voice, this is different. "That's not fair and you know it."

"I'm not blaming you Harry I was just making a joke - forget it." The remaining food on my plate is an unsuccessful distraction, nothing's enough to stop Harry when he starts.

"No, you always do this. I didn't disappear, I was working for five years and then I continued to work after that, I came home as much as I could so don't pretend I was all aloof or something." I'm used to holding his gaze through an argument, and this is an argument we've had before - "It was my job to travel for months at a time, you can't blame me for not being around every time we see each other like I just ran off and never called."

"So it's not work for me then?" I shoot back, instantly angry that he finds it so easy to offload all the blame onto me when he's the one who made a meaningless comment into a fight in the first place. "And it fucking felt like that."

Harry's quiet. I finish the last of my wine and pour a second glass.

"I came back."

"Not properly." I put my glass down and massage my fingertips over my temple, this isn't the time to unpack childhood grudges. "I'm only here for a week, can we not fight...please?"

Neither of us speaks for a few moments, my words linger in the air. We never have much longer than a few weeks together before one of us is off again, there's never going to be time to confront that stuff. The transition between only having Harry a few hours away, treating his home like mine on the weekends me and my sister, Ellie, would visit him and Gem and moaning our way through hellish GCSEs together (he was a year ahead so always had a little more to complain about) to him travelling the world and everyone knowing his name was almost nonexistent. It all happened so abruptly, Harry went to London for a few days to film his follow up audition and never came back. I didn't see him until the Christmas of that year, by which time he'd already moved into a place in London and experienced so much that it was hard to act like anything would ever be the same again.

"What did I do wrong, just tell me and I'll fix it, please," Harry begs, earnest as he finally speaks up.

"I don't blame you for anything Harry, I didn't mean it like that..."I sigh, wringing my hands out as nervously as the women beside me hours before on the plane. "Let's just have dinner, yeah? It's really nice Har."

We finish our food with a little more small talk, he asks how Ellie's doing even though he already knows from Gemma's updates that's he engaged now and thinking about moving to London, I ask after a few of his bandmates I met last time I was in L.A. Things are too quiet when we lay down on his sofa to watch the notebook for the 20th time. Neither of us recites the lines we know off by heart and always mock - the air hangs heavy with the lingering anxiety of an argument we're never going to settle, we sit apart stiffly and far too composed for film nights we've shared since we were kids before heading our separate ways to bed.

... . .

Work goes well, the young people I talk to pretty much write the article for me with how much insight they offer up. There are so many parts to the topic that deserve to be covered well that my workdays and evenings at Harry's blur together and soon I've emailing my final draft to Sandy for notes and packing for the airport.

Neither Harry or I have brought the first nights argument up and it looks like it'll be brushed under the rug before I leave tonight. There's been a definite cloud over the last week - I think a more before I speak and Harry's eyes linger on me a little longer when I do.

He stills seems frustrated by our fight, I can't blame him, I am too. He's sat on the sofa with a guitar in his lap, going unplayed as his eyes trail after my last-minute rush around the apartment to gather together all my possessions that had found themselves seeping out into his home over the past week. He watches closely, contemplating whether to speak or just let me go like nothing happened.

"Have you seen my sweater?" I call from the guest room, the wardrobe's empty and my bags are laying on the coffee table in front of Harry - my sweater missing from both.

"The one you brought with you?"

He appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame of the door and peering down at where I'm kneeling before the bed, searching through the very empty and sweaterless dresser, humming a response back at him.

"Yeah, that'd be mine." I snap my head back to look at him, he must be joking.

"Um no, it's mine," He smirks, eyes still sad but fainter now in the looseness of the moment. "I've had it for years, I bought it in Amsterdam in that little thrift store by the cafe with the really good bagels."

"No," He chastises. "I bought it in Amsterdam in that little thrift shop by the cafe with the really good bagels, and you took it home when you left."

He's definitely wrong. Sure I might not remember all of the trip I took to Amsterdam to visit him on tour, but I remember the hours we spent traipsing through thrift store on his day off munching on really good bagels.

"Wrong - please return it now, kindly." I stand and hold out my palm to him.

"No can do," He grins, nudges my hand away from him to fall limply by my side.

"Harry, come on!" I whine, letting my maturity slip slightly as my patience lessens. "I'm already running late, I've gotta finish packing and I can't miss my flight."

"Why not?" He challenges, smiling still but paired with a serious tone now.

"Because, I'm not about to swim back to London."

"No, why can't you stay?" My hand wavers slightly at my side, I'm not sure if he's joking or I can hear sincerity in his voice - it reminds me too much of his solemn begging from Saturday night. "Just stay, a little longer."

He's asked me to before in the past. He isn't afraid to try and steal another day off of me to tag along to an artist friend of his' show the next night or just to get dinner at a restaurant I 'couldn't miss'. On occasion, I've given in to his pestering and rearranged a flight for a few days later. I could, I could. I'd just handed in my work for the week and it was only Friday morning, I won't be needed again until Monday. Flight's would be ridiculously expensive to change this late though, and this 'stay a little longer' felt less for the sake of good food and his favourite spin class and more of a, we need to talk - 'stay a little longer.'

"I can't," I reply simply, closing off the conversation by brushing past him into the hall towards his own room in search of my stolen sweater.

"I'll pay for your flight back." Harrys voice trails after me. "You've worked hard all week, you can afford to take the weekend off."

"I cant." I brush off again, avoiding his gaze as I scan over the room in front of me, heading to his tall chest of draws first and pulling open the one I know is filled with jumpers.

"I want to talk," Harry says softly. He lifts one arm from where he has them crossed over his chest and motions to the chair in the far corner, I investigate and sure enough, my sweater is tucked under a small pile of t-shirts. "Love, you can't ignore me."

"M' not, we're talking aren't we?" I'm just hovering in the middle of the room now, sweater in hand but Harry's tall figure blocks my way out adamantly.

"You know what I mean,"

"Harry, I can't-"

"I'm not letting you leave like this again." He takes a few steps across the room as he talks, "You said we couldn't fight cos you're only here a week, so stay a little longer."

"I don't want to fight." I shake my head, pulling my hand away when he reaches out for it.

"Then we'll just talk."

He's got that determined, soulful look about him. He reaches for my hand again and I let him, he brushes his fingertips over my knuckles lightly. His other hand comes up to my face and guides my head to look at him, still peering down at me expectantly.

Harry and I have always been open with one another. There was never enough time to tiptoe around what was bothering us when he was only home for a few weeks before work or another tour called again. Our parents always joke that we were twins separated at birth, the way we used to huddle in the garden as little kids and whisper to each other. He's my best friend, no matter how far apart we are he never hesitates to talk through his troubles with me, sure there are times we drift with our schedules, but there's too much pulling us back together for it to last long.

"I can't," It's a whisper, but he's close enough to hear it. I pull my hand from his and turn my head to the side. Inhaling, it's far too shakey to hide my nerves and before I can control it there are tears stinging my eyes.

"Love-" Harry coos, fighting my own hand to clear the tears from my cheeks.

"-I can't, Harry I," I say again, the lump in my throat making my words sound choked. He's looking down at me with that sad soft expression again and I can't piece together how we got here. "I can't."

He pulls me into his chest. His arms rest around my shoulders and he presses his face into my neck. He mumbling something but I can't make it out anymore, everything's warm and teary and slightly distorted by heavy breaths.

"We've gotta talk....we've gotta talk," He gets louder, "Love?"

I pull back to see his face. There's a red blush over his nose and cheeks and his eyelashes shine where they're wet. I push back, creating some space between us and clearing my throat.

"I didn't mean anything, we don't have to-I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm not angry, and I have no right to be so can we just, can we please just forget it?"

He shakes his head lightly, rubbing his hands against the back of his neck and standing straighter, feeling taller and intimidating.

"It's more than that, you know," He's swallowed the wobble in his voice, continuing to talk clearly now. "It's not about that, we've needed to talk for awhile - I don't want to leave it for weeks and weeks again, I can't keep pretending like nothing's going on."

"I've got a flight to catch Harry I really can't do this." I insist, walking around him and through the clear doorway, although his footsteps chase closely behind.

"Miss the flight!" Harry shouts as we make it to the living room and I start packing away the last few things on the coffee table. "I'll get you a ticket for Sunday night, just stay."

My throat burns when I push down another round of tears and furiously shove books down the side of my bag. Harry hovers to my side, fiddling with his rings and bouncing his knee back and forth.

"I love you."

I have a flight to catch. I have a flight to catch.

"Don't say it like that- I love you, of course, I love you too" I sigh, slowing down and turning to face him. "...my car's going to be here in fifteen minutes."

"No, I love you."

I have a flight to catch. I have a flight to catch.

"I have a flight to catch."

... . .

I feel shittier on the plane. I've got the window seat this time though so at least I can mope in peace. Not much more had been said after that, my car came, I thanked Harry for having me and our hug lasted longer than usual, again.

Maybe I should have stayed. Maybe I should have talked about the feelings that he'd noticed too before I left, or better yet, the first night I arrived. I'd spent hours stuck in an unproductive thought spiral on the subject over the years, we've had moments in the past, Christmas eves when we're the last ones up and the space between us dwindles down the further we get in our confessions or catching each other in a particularly domestic act in one our homes when it feels like it all just comes naturally and why isn't it like this with any of the guys I've dated?

It doesn't go unnoticed by us that we acted like a couple more often than we did close friends. Gemma and Ellie have confronted me, and most likely Harry too, together and separately for answers on several occasions. I always say the same thing - "We're just friends, we've always been close."

This time's different though. Harry's never brought the subject up outside of the jokes comparing us to his friends in relationships, he's always been in relationships and there's no chance of me broaching the issue of any potential romantic feelings I may or may not have for him while he's seeing somebody, even when he wasn't, it's not worth the risk of it all blowing up in my face and having to spend infinite Christmases in awkward humiliation.

I'd played with the idea of us as a couple, allowed myself to daydream about what it could be like for a few moments before reminding myself how low the possibility of Harry ever feeling the same is. Even if he did, the long-distance friendship we have now would never survive as a relationship - you can't go months without the person you're trying to build a life with.

But, maybe I should have stayed.

Maybe, when he told me he loved me, I should have been braver. In the one moment, it all finally felt clear and possible, and like I wasn't completely delusional and hopeless, I should have told him I love him too.

Either way, I have eight long, back aching hours ahead of me to decide.

#harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles one shot #feels like home #dani's writing #oop #i'm so tired

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grifalinas · 4 years

Text

Once upon a time there was a poor woodcutter who wanted a child so badly that one night, while walking alone in the woods, he told the wishing star that he would “even settled for half a child, if only he could be a father”.

Of course, since it is a well known fact that the wishing star is a fairy and that fairies are dicks, this was foolish of him, but the deed was done, and sure enough: nine months later his wife gave birth to a child who was only half a boy. This must be taken in the most literal sense: his entire right side of his body was nonexistent.

Now at this point you’re probably thinking “okay, now hang on a minute” and you’ve probably got a lot of questions about anatomy and mortality rates and you might even be preparing to tell me so many things about congenital defects and explain that such a child could not possibly survive, but listen. Don’t worry about it.

The poor woodcutter was a little put off by his child’s condition but he had meant what he said, and he was not a man to be put off by fairy dickery, so he took his son to a tinsmith and had a tin half-body made for his right side, so that now he was a whole boy and, again, don’t worry about it. This is a fairy tale.

The boy, whose name was James, grew up the same as any other boy, and we can only assume the tinsmith made bank replacing his body for him every few months as he grew (and then grew and grew and grew because by the time he stopped growing he was as tall as the trees in the forest of his birth. Not literally, of course, but this is a fairy tale so,).

And so James grew into a fine, strong young man, a woodcutter like his father, and since I know you’re wondering: yes, it was made of tin, and yes, it worked.

One day, while James was out in the forest doing whatever it is that woodcutters do- cut wood, presumably- he came upon a crow trapped in a bramble bush.

Now, James, as was by this point well documented, was a very soft-hearted young man, and didn’t like to see any creature suffering needlessly. So without a second thought he chopped away the brambles that were holding the crow prisoner, and then carried him home and cleaned and bandaged the wounds that he’d acquired during his entrapment.

The crow was too badly hurt to fly away, so James made him a comfortable nest and left him in it to rest until he’d healed, and as it had been a very long day and the sun was nearly set, James ate his dinner and went to bed.

During the night, he thought he felt a presence at his side in the narrow bed, but when he woke the next morning it was empty, save for a single black feather, which he tucked into his pocket.

Fortunately the crow was feeling much better that day, so James let him back out into the woods and gave no more thought to it, because he was the sort of soft-hearted guy who was always helping injured animals in the wood and it was his good fortune he lived alone because if he had a wife she would most certainly have complained.

(He did not have a wife. There were reasons for this, one of them being his half-tin body and a much bigger one being that it took any woman about five minutes to realize he really, really wasn’t interested.)

Another day, as James was once more out in the woods doing his job, he found a man had fallen into the river, and was struggling against the current. Since James’ half-tin body made him very strong, it was no trouble for him to reach into the river and just pull the man back onto the bank. The river roared at him for taking his prize, but the man was safe, and he clasped James as though he were a long-lost brother, which, if you’ll recall the wish James’ father made in the beginning of this story, was clearly impossible. Also, the man was as old as James’ parents.

The man, as it turned out, was a king (not of James’ country; just A King in general), and he was so grateful to James for saving his life that he promised James his daughter in marriage. James thought this was a bit much to offer someone just for pulling him free of the river, but he figured there wasn’t any harm in at least seeing what the princess thought about the idea, and told the king that he needed to prepare his house for his absence and he would come along shortly behind him.

So the king went ahead to tell his daughter and prepare her for her upcoming nuptials, and James went home to get a change of underwear and lock his door.

-/-

Meanwhile, the king returned home that night and immediately sent for his children.

Now, this king had two children, a son and a daughter who were twins. Their names were Raven and Qrow, and they were as alike in countenance as twins can be when they aren’t identical, and they were also very rebellious and willful and strong-minded, and not the sort to just go along with it when being told their father had promised Raven to a man she’d never met just because he’d fished him out of a river.

“Absolutely not,” Raven said, folding her arms and glaring in a way that told her father she meant it.

“You can’t just go marrying your daughter to some rando just for saving your life,” Qrow agreed. “What if he’s a creep? Or ugly?”

“He’s not ugly,” the king said. “He’s very handsome. He’s as tall as a tree and he has a beard. That’s handsome, right?”

“Do you mean that he’s literally as tall as a tree, or only that he is very tall?” Raven asked, because this was a fairy tale and sometimes you have to double-check these things.

“He is very tall,” the king explained. “And his eyes are very blue.”

“That does sound handsome,” Raven agreed, “but I still don’t want to marry him. It’s the principle of the thing.”

“At least wait until you meet him to decide,” the king asked, and Raven agreed because, you know, maybe he wasn’t a creep. But privately she had already decided, because if he married her because her father said so she’d have to go through all of the trouble of training him to respect her free will, and who has time for that?

-/-

The next night, James arrived at the palace, and the king had him brought up immediately. While he was waiting for his audience, unbeknown to him the king and the twins watched him through a secret hidey-hole in the wall.

“Well, daughter?” the king asked. “Is he handsome enough to meet your standards?”

“He’s very handsome,” Raven agreed, “and I do like how kind his smile is, but on balance I think I’m still going to refuse. I can’t go marrying a man just because my father made a foolish promise. It sets a poor precedent.”

“Well now what am I supposed to do?” the king said. “I made him a promise. I can’t go back on my word, it makes me look like a bad king.”

“I think promising something that isn’t yours to promise makes you look like a bad king,” Raven sniffed. “Just tell him you made a foolish decision in the heat of the moment and ask him if he wants something else.”

And then she looked to her brother to back her up, but Qrow had spent the entire conversation gazing through the hidey-hole at James, and now he said, “If my sister doesn’t want him, I’ll take him.”

-/-

James was beginning to wonder if perhaps he was being played when the king finally appeared.

“So here’s the thing,” the king said. “My daughter doesn’t want to marry you, even though you are handsome and kind, because of the principle of the thing.”

James could understand that. Honestly, he was a little relieved. He’d been thinking on the way over that he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do with a wife.

“But,” the king went on, before James could reply, “I have a son, and he would be happy to marry you in her place.”

This, to James, sounded like a much better option.

“All right,” he said. “If he doesn’t mind.”

So a feast was prepared to celebrate the engagement, and James met his husband-to-be for the first time that night, and fell in love, or anyway he fell in like, which is still pretty good for an arranged marriage.

The next night, they were married, which we can only assume was because this is a fairy tale and things can be sped up. James did think it odd that the wedding was being held at night, but he supposed royals had their odd ways different than the ways of the common folk.

Certainly it made it take a lot less time to get to the wedding night later.

Now, James was very much looking forward to his wedding night, but he thought he ought to get some full disclosure out of the way before they went any further. However, it turned out his husband had something similar in mind, because as soon as the door closed behind them and they were alone, he said, “I have something to tell you.”

“I have something to tell you,” James echoed. “You go first.”

“I’m currently under a curse. At night I’m a man, but when the sun rises I’m going to turn into a bird. It’s extremely inconvenient.”

“It’s not that inconvenient right now,” James said. “I’d rather have a man for my wedding night than a bird.”

“I guess that’s fair. What did you want to tell me?”

“I only have half a body. The right half is made of tin.”

“Oh. Did a witch kiss you, too?”

“My father made a very stupid wish on a fairy star.”

“That sounds also really inconvenient.”

“It was before I stopped having growth spurts. Now it’s fine. Though it does tend to be offputting for the women in my village, who’d prefer a husband whose manhood isn’t made of tin.”

Qrow nodded, and, as he’d spent more than five minutes with James at this point, said, “Are you sure it’s the tin putting them off?”

I won’t bore you further with their banter. Suffice to say: they had a very fulfilling wedding night, and in the morning, James woke to find his bed empty apart from a single black feather, which he sat admiring for quite some time until a maid brought him his breakfast and he quickly put it away, because it was kind of embarrassing to be caught pining for one’s husband like that.

#the half-man and the hoodie-crow #(part one)

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