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#i love pawpaws SO MUCH
ghostedflakes · 5 months
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I think this is my final Moonshine design! Best part was looking up a bunch of mushrooms to draw.
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stinkrascal · 1 year
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first thing im doing when i get home is smoking weed second thing im doing when i get home is putting caspian on his grandparents farm and taking pics of them petting all the horsies(cute way to say horse)
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strawberrypadme · 11 months
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are you normal or anytime you see an opossum pic or video online you think “omg that’s so PawPaw”
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f14fun · 3 months
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big mouth, big brain (!youtuber x op81) ~ part 2
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synopsis: in which case y/n, a video essayist pops up on oscar's youtube feed, and he falls in love with the way she speaks and tells stories
smau + prose (5.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ profile | masterlist | prev | next ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
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a little over a week later, on march 24...
yourusername:
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 211,009 others
yourusername: thx babe 🧡
view comments
oscarpiastri: np honey 🧡
user1: aight what is this sudden new development 😀
user1: i mean i'm NOT complaining but YOU SIR better take care of our pookie dookie wookie y/n 🧐🫵🏽
oscarpiastri: got it, got it 😁😁🫣
user2: girl you got him blushing and shiii-
user3: omg i saw her today at the melborne gp and she was so nice to me! like i'm not familiar with who she is really (i'm new to the wonderful world of mawmaw y/n!), but i just know she will be the perfect wag <3
user3: like she saw me struggling with my lanyard, wine, and duffle bag, and offered to literally hold all three, i love her so much
user3: and her outfits are literally so cute, oscar, you chose the right one!
liked by oscarpiastri
user4: omg SHE'S REPPING THE ORANGE HEART #teampapaya
user5: y/nscar, my mawmaw and pawpaw 😘😽💋
user6: like i know they are not official official, but these soft launches gotta stoppp, just hard launch already
user7: girl is he good in bed
user7: please please please give deets, ily!
user8: fam you mad weird for that one
user9: please for the love of god respect their privacy
liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername
oscarpiastri: ready for date night 2 night?
yourusername: always ready for u 💗
user10: the BLATANT FLIRTING NAHHH
user11: imagine if this is all one big fat skit i'm actually going to scream cry throwup kms
landonorris: so nice to meet you today, love a girl who finally makes oscar stfu
yourusername: LMAOO 😭😭 it was a please lando
oscarpiastri: 🙄🙄
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I was in fact, not alright.
It had been little over a year since I had been on an actual date (not counting the instances where I went over to a guy's house for some ramen, and all of a sudden that was the date) Used to all these low effort, casual efforts at being romantic, I was suddenly hit with the prospect of an actual man who wanted to treat me with respect.
Oscar Piastri.
The man who I idolized as I grew up, always admiring his grit and courage from afar.
And this hardworking man wanted to take me out on a date. For real.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to calm the flurry of nerves that churned within me. I smoothed my champagne white colored dress and straightened my Cult Gaia necklace. Oscar had only asked of one thing of me tonight, which was to either wear white or beige.
My heart pounded relentlessly, a drumbeat of anticipation and anxiety. It wasn't just any date; it was a date with Oscar Piastri. The very thought sent my mind spiraling. How did I, of all people, end up here? (answer: being chronically online did)
Every interaction with Oscar had been a mixture of awe and admiration. I remembered the first time I saw him race, the way he navigated the track with unparalleled skill and determination. He wasn't just a driver; he was a force of nature, a symbol of relentless ambition and hard work. And now, here I was, about to go on a date with him.
Even though he got fourth at his home race today, I was extremely proud of him. Both as a fan, and quite possibly, his girlfriend by the end of the night (the delusional girl in me said the last part, clearly).
When he had dm'd me privately after tweeting publicly he would like to take me out, I remember completely blanking. I nearly blacked out when he insisted on calling to go over the nitty gritty details of everything with me.
From flying me out, to booking my hotel and making sure my stay in Melbourne was as comfortable as possible, I was feeling a swirl of new emotions. Sure, life was going fast, but I liked this pace. Especially if Oscar could be beside me whilst life passed us by.
Balancing my studies at the prestigious university I attended and my growing presence as a vlogger had never been easy. My days were a blur of lectures, assignments, and shooting content for YouTube and various brand sponsorships. I had started with simple vlogs, but over time, my content had evolved into elaborate video essays on various topics, from Formula 1 analysis to a break down on the world's current events, both in pop culture and politics.
My followers had grown steadily, and so had the demands on my time.
Yet, despite the chaos, I had always found solace in my passion for vlogging. It was my creative outlet, a way to connect with people who shared my interests. My video essays, in particular, had garnered a lot of attention. They were meticulously researched, edited with care, and infused with my personal touch. The positive feedback I received made all the sleepless nights worth it.
But tonight, I wasn't thinking about the next video essay or the pile of coursework waiting for me. Tonight, I was focused on one thing: Oscar.
I had documented my journey to Melbourne in a vlog, capturing every moment from the airport, to the breathtaking view from my hotel room, to the race in Melbourne as well.
My followers were eagerly anticipating the next installment, but for now, they would have to wait. This was my time, a rare moment to step out from behind the camera and live in the present.
As I made my way to the lobby to meet Oscar, my phone buzzed with notifications. Messages of encouragement from friends and comments from my followers flooded in, but I silenced them. Tonight was about more than just content; it was about experiencing something real.
Exhaling as the elevator door slowly opened, the incessant ringing of jazz music seemed to warp and slow as I made eye contact with Oscar from across the lobby. He seemed nervous, fidgeting with his cufflinks.
Earlier in the day, we couldn't see each other, as media duties for the both of us consumed our time. So here we were, for the first time, meeting each other in person.
He was much taller in person than I had actually expected.
It was one thing to see him plastered across a big screen and splattered across billboards in New York City, but it was another to see this man in all his glory, in the flesh.
His shoulders seemed to broaden as I approach him, and a million thoughts were swirling in my mind. I just hoped the same million thoughts were swirling in his mind as well.
His fluffy brown hair looked newly tousled with, but not to the point where it looked terribly unruly. He looked human, with that crooked smile, and his eyes folded into little half moons—like parenthesis—he was happy to see me. As I was too.
All eloquence, sense of being, and peace of mind disappeared in an instant. Mouth slightly gapping widely, I was at a loss of words for once in my life.
Oscar Piastri is beautiful.
We simultaneously reached out for a hug, our laughter breaking the awkward silence that had settled upon us as we sized each other up for the first time. The hug was amazing, enveloping me in a warmth that felt almost surreal.
His arms wrapped around me with a gentle firmness, and I felt a sense of comfort and safety that I hadn't experienced in a long time. It was as if I had come home, even though we were standing in the middle of a bustling hotel lobby.
The hug lasted a little longer than usual, neither of us wanting to let go. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my own, and the scent of his cologne, fresh and slightly woody, filled my senses.
When I finally, reluctantly let go, his hand lingered on my waist for a moment longer, sending a shiver down my spine. The touch was intimate and unhurried, a silent acknowledgment of the connection we both felt.
As his hand finally released its gentle hold, I felt butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach. My cheeks warmed, a blush creeping up as I tried to steady my breathing. I glanced up at him and saw that he was blushing a little bit too, his cheeks tinged with a soft pink.
His bashful smile mirrored my own feelings, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, we both knew this was the start of something special.
Oscar cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "I, uh, got something for you," he said, his voice tinged with nerves.
He flipped the bag he was holding around, and I could see the words Valentino sprawled across it. I gasped, my eyes widening in surprise.
"Oscar, you didn't," I whispered, my heart racing even faster.
He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't sure which one you wanted, so I got both," he admitted, looking sheepish yet proud. "One in red and one in blue."
I was completely floored. "Oscar, this is… wow," I stammered, at a loss for words. I had never expected such a grand gesture, especially not on our first date. It was one thing to admire him from afar, but to have him go to such lengths for me was overwhelming.
He shifted slightly, his nervousness palpable. "I just wanted to do something special for you," he said softly, his eyes meeting mine. "You deserve it."
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Oscar," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "This means so much to me."
He smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made my heart swell. "I'm glad you like it," he said, stepping closer. "I wanted tonight to be perfect."
I looked down at the beautifully crafted bags, my fingers tracing the elegant lettering of Valentino. Each bag represented more than just a luxury item; it was a symbol of his consideration and effort. It was clear that he had put thought into this, wanting to make a good impression and show that he cared.
"I can't believe you did all this," I murmured, still in awe. "It's… beyond anything I could have imagined."
He took a deep breath, his confidence growing slightly as he saw my reaction. "You deserve to be treated well," he said, his voice firm. "And I wanted to make sure you knew that."
The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable, and I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. "Thank you," I repeated, my heart swelling with affection. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," he replied, his hand gently brushing against mine. "Just enjoy the evening."
As we stood there, the world around us seemed to fade away. In that moment, it was just the two of us, sharing something special and unforgettable. And for the first time in a long while, I felt truly cherished.
"I feel like I'm dreaming," I confessed, a soft laugh escaping my lips. "This is all so surreal."
Oscar's eyes softened as he took my hand in his. "It's real, Y/N. And it's just the beginning."
His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my cheeks flush. The thought that this was just the start of something more was both thrilling and terrifying. But as I looked into his eyes, I felt a sense of reassurance.
"Let's make tonight memorable," he said, his thumb gently caressing the back of my hand.
I nodded, my heart pounding with anticipation. "Absolutely."
With a gentle squeeze of my hand, he led me out of the hotel lobby. The evening air was cool and refreshing, and as we walked towards his black McLaren that was waiting for us, I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Oscar had gone above and beyond to make this night special, and I was determined to cherish every moment.
As we approached the car, Oscar immediately took the initiative to ensure everything was perfect for me. He opened the passenger door and motioned for me to sit down, but not before adjusting the seat settings. He carefully moved the seat forward and tilted it slightly to match my height, ensuring I would be comfortable during the ride.
"Is the seat okay?" he asked, looking at me with genuine concern.
I nodded, already feeling the comfort of the perfectly adjusted seat. But he wasn't done yet. He leaned in and adjusted the air conditioning, making sure it wasn't too chilly. "I know it can get a bit cold sometimes," he said with a small smile, "so I set it to a warmer temperature."
I smiled back, appreciating his thoughtfulness. Once he was satisfied that I was comfortable, he turned his attention to my belongings. Gently taking the old bag I had brought with me, he began transferring my items into the new red Valentino bag he had gifted me. He was meticulous, making sure that nothing was left behind and that everything was placed neatly in the new bag.
"Here, let me help you with this," he said softly, his hands moving deftly as he organized my things.
Watching him, I felt a warmth spread through me. He wasn't just being thoughtful; he was showing me that he cared about every little detail, making sure that I felt special and valued.
Once he had finished, he handed me the new bag, his eyes shining with pride. "There you go," he said, his voice gentle. "Everything's all set."
I took the bag from him, my fingers brushing against his for a moment. "Thank you, Oscar," I said, my voice filled with gratitude. "You didn't have to do all this."
He shrugged modestly, a bashful smile playing on his lips. "I wanted to," he replied simply. "I wanted tonight to be perfect for you."
And as he closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver's side, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his kindness and attention to detail. Oscar Piastri was proving to be more than just a racing legend; he was a gentleman, someone who cared deeply and went out of his way to make me feel cherished.
Oscar didn't act like an immature, twenty-three year old boy, like some people made him out to be. Unlike the bummy guys I had known and casually dated before, this was a step up.
He maneuvered the car with ease, backing up with one hand on the steering wheel while his other arm rested casually on the back of my seat. I couldn't help but admire the way his muscles shifted and tensed underneath his white collared shirt, the fabric stretching slightly over his broad shoulders. It was impossible not to find it incredibly attractive. My cheeks heated up, a blush spreading across my face. Oscar noticed and turned to look at me, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Are you blushing?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
Caught off guard, I stammered, "Um, no...I mean, maybe a little." I laughed nervously, trying to brush it off, but the warmth in my cheeks only intensified.
He chuckled, a soft, bashful sound, and I noticed a faint blush creeping up his own neck. "I guess we're both a bit flustered tonight," he admitted, glancing back at the road. The air between us felt charged with a mix of excitement and nervous energy.
As we settled into the drive, the initial awkwardness began to dissipate, replaced by a comfortable silence. I watched the city lights blur past us, the rhythm of the car soothing my nerves. Sensing a shift in the atmosphere, Oscar took a deep breath and broke the silence. "You know, there's a lot of pressure in Formula 1," he said, his voice thoughtful. "It's not just about the races. There's so much that goes on behind the scenes—training, media obligations, sponsorships. It can be overwhelming sometimes. But having someone like you here tonight, it makes it all feel worth it."
I smiled, touched by his openness. "I can only imagine how tough it must be," I replied. "Balancing my studies and vlogging is already a handful. There are days when it feels like I'm barely keeping up with everything. But tonight...I'm really grateful to be here with you."
He glanced over at me, his eyes soft and understanding. "Sounds like we both have a lot on our plates," he said. "But maybe tonight, we can just focus on ourselves and leave all those distractions behind."
"Agreed," I said, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Tonight is just about us."
We exchanged smiles, a silent agreement to make the most of this evening and cherish the time we had together. The city lights blurred past us as we drove on, the world outside fading into the background as we found solace in each other's company. The pressures of our respective worlds felt miles away, replaced by a shared sense of tranquility and excitement for what the night had in store.
The McLaren navigated smoothly through the city streets, and with each passing moment, I found myself more captivated by Oscar's presence. His occasional sideways glances and the genuine interest he showed in our conversation made me feel seen and appreciated in a way I hadn't experienced before. It was refreshing to connect with someone on such a deep level, especially amidst our busy lives.
"I've always admired your dedication to racing," I said, breaking the silence that had settled comfortably between us. "It must take an incredible amount of discipline."
Oscar smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thank you," he replied sincerely. "It's my passion, but it's also a demanding profession. Every race, every decision matters. It's a constant balancing act, trying to perform at your best while managing everything else."
"I can relate," I admitted with a small laugh. "Trying to balance university assignments, vlogging, and now, this unexpected but wonderful evening—it's a lot to juggle."
He nodded thoughtfully. "You're doing an amazing job," he reassured me. "Not many people can handle all of that with such grace."
The compliment warmed my heart, and I felt a surge of gratitude towards him. "Thank you, Oscar. And for what it's worth, I think you handle the pressures of Formula 1 admirably."
His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. The city lights cast a soft glow on his features, accentuating the earnestness in his expression. "I appreciate that," he said softly. "Having you here tonight, it's a reminder of why I do what I do."
A comfortable silence settled between us once more, filled with unspoken understanding and a growing connection. The air inside the car was charged with an undeniable chemistry, a magnetic pull that drew us closer with each passing minute. It was a rare and precious moment, where time seemed to slow down, allowing us to savor each other's company without the weight of responsibilities and expectations.
Oscar glanced at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face, "if you keep blushing like that, I'm going to think you're a better driver than me."
I laughed, my cheeks still warm. "Oh please, you know I'm terrible with directions. I'd probably get us lost before we even reach the restaurant."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, don't worry, I'll be your GPS for the night. Just don't expect me to be as reliable as my car on the track."
At a stoplight, he turned to look at me, and to my surprise, he brushed a loose strand of my hair away from my face to the back of my head. Holding my chin, he smiled, and a small smirk blossomed across his face.
Imagine my shock horror when I started blushing again. It felt like that one Grey's Anatomy episode where a girl wouldn't stop blushing, and got surgery to treat her incessant blushing.
Yes, I really felt like Kelly Roesch every time I was around Oscar.
"Y/N, do I really make you blush that much?" Oscar smirked and looked forward, as the light had changed back to green. Pressing the gas pedal, he sped off, and I let out a gasp from how fast the car was going.
Caught off guard, I stammered, "Um, maybe I am blushing, what about it?" I dared to challenge playfully, immediately regretting my boldness and the sudden surge of moxie.
Oscar turned to look at me, his smile widening. "You're adorable when you blush," he remarked, his tone warm and affectionate.
Embarrassment tinged with delight colored my cheeks even more. "Well, you have that effect on me," I confessed, feeling a rush of courage.
He chuckled softly. "Good to know," he teased gently, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary before returning to the road.
The playful banter eased the tension between us, infusing the car with a light, flirtatious energy. As we continued driving through the city streets, our conversation flowed effortlessly, alternating between laughter and more serious topics.
Oscar shared anecdotes from his racing career, injecting humor into tales of close calls and victories, while I recounted memorable vlogging experiences and the challenges of managing a demanding schedule.
Each exchange deepened our connection, fostering a sense of mutual understanding and admiration. There was an unspoken chemistry between us, a magnetic pull that grew stronger with every shared laugh and meaningful glance. I
t was as if we had known each other for much longer than just this evening, our bond forged in the shared pursuit of passion and ambition.
By the time we arrived at the restaurant, the initial nervousness had transformed into a comfortable familiarity. Oscar held the car door open for me with a gallant smile, his gestures both chivalrous and endearing.
As we walked into the restaurant together, hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events that brought us here.
When we arrived at the front entrance of the restaurant, I was once again struck by the thoughtfulness of his choices. The place was elegant yet intimate, with a cozy ambiance that made me feel instantly at ease.
Oscar had clearly put a lot of thought into every detail, and it was impossible not to be touched by his efforts.
As we sat down, I couldn't help but smile at him. "You really went all out, didn't you?" I teased gently.
He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "Only the best for you."
I blushed, feeling the warmth of his words wash over me. "Thank you, Oscar. For everything."
"You're worth it," he said simply, his gaze unwavering.
In that moment, I knew that this was more than just a date. It was the beginning of something beautiful, something that had the potential to grow into a deep and meaningful connection.
And as the night unfolded, filled with laughter, conversation, and a shared sense of excitement, I realized that I was ready to embrace it wholeheartedly.
As we settled into our seats at the cozy restaurant, the atmosphere around us seemed to hum with a quiet energy. Oscar and I exchanged glances, a knowing smile playing on both our lips, as if silently acknowledging the unspoken tension between us.
"So, Y/N," Oscar began, his voice low and playful, "tell me more about your vlogging. Any juicy behind-the-scenes stories?"
I chuckled, stirring my drink slightly. "Oh, you know, the usual. Endless editing sessions, occasional tech disasters. But it's all worth it when I get to share something meaningful with my followers."
"Sounds like a lot of work," he mused, his gaze lingering on mine. "But I bet you enjoy every minute of it."
"Most of the time," I admitted, feeling a rush of warmth at his attentiveness.
As I settled into recounting the tea ceremony mishap, I couldn't help but chuckle at the memory, though at the time, it had been far from funny. "So, there I was, kneeling beside this beautifully arranged tea set," I began, gesturing animatedly with my hands. "The camera was perfectly positioned to capture this serene moment. I was about to take a sip of the freshly brewed tea when suddenly, the tripod leg gave way."
Oscar leaned forward, his eyes fixed on me with rapt attention. "No way," he interjected, clearly intrigued.
"Yes way," I confirmed with a laugh. "And in that split second, everything descended into chaos. The camera toppled over, knocking into the low table where the tea set was displayed. Cups shattered, tea leaves scattered everywhere, and I, in a desperate attempt to catch the camera, managed to knock over a delicate vase of flowers."
Oscar's laughter filled the air, a genuine and infectious sound that made me smile even wider. "You must have been in shock," he remarked, shaking his head in amusement.
"I was," I admitted, recalling the moment vividly. "But somehow, amidst the chaos, I kept rolling. I think I was in such disbelief that I just kept filming, capturing the aftermath of the disaster. Tea leaves floating in the air, water dripping from the overturned vase—it was a scene straight out of a comedy."
"And your viewers got to witness it all?" Oscar asked, still chuckling.
"Oh, they did," I confirmed, a grin spreading across my face. "And surprisingly, they loved it. I received so many comments about how refreshing it was to see the behind-the-scenes reality, even if it meant watching me fumble through a tea ceremony."
Oscar nodded thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he leaned back in his chair. "It just goes to show," he mused, "sometimes the unplanned moments make the best stories."
"Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a rush of gratitude for his genuine interest. "And speaking of stories, I'm sure you have your fair share of dramatic moments on the track. Care to share?"
His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned forward, ready to share tales from the fast-paced world of Formula 1. "Well, there was this one time in Australia," he began, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "During one of my rookie years, I had a near-miss with a kangaroo. It came out of nowhere, right in the middle of the track. I had to swerve so hard I thought I'd end up in the barriers."
I gasped, eyes wide. "A kangaroo? Seriously? Only you would have an experience like that!"
He chuckled, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Yep, only in Australia, right? But that wasn't the end of it. The kangaroo didn't just stay on the track. It jumped over the barriers and ended up in the audience. People were screaming and trying to get out of its way. It was pure chaos."
"Oh my God," I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief. "Did anyone get hurt?"
"No, thankfully," Oscar replied, his eyes twinkling. "Security managed to corral the kangaroo and get it to safety. But it was definitely one of the most chaotic moments I've ever experienced on the track. The race had to be stopped for a few minutes until everything was under control.
The whole time, I was just sitting in my car, watching this kangaroo cause mayhem and thinking, 'Is this really happening?'"
I couldn't stop laughing at the mental image. "I can't believe it. That's insane. Did they ever find out how the kangaroo got there in the first place?"
Oscar shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips. "No idea. It was one of those freak occurrences. But it definitely made for an unforgettable race. Every time I go back to that track, I half expect to see another kangaroo waiting to jump out."
I giggled, feeling a warm connection building between us. "Well, I hope not. One near-miss with a kangaroo is more than enough for a lifetime."
He nodded in agreement, his smile broadening. "Yeah, definitely. But hey, it makes for a great story to tell on a first date, right?"
I blushed at his words, realizing just how special this evening was becoming. "Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a rush of gratitude for his genuine interest. "And speaking of stories, I'm sure you have your fair share of other dramatic moments on the track. Care to share?"
His eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned forward, ready to share more tales from the fast-paced world of Formula 1. "Oh, I have plenty," he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "There was this one time when..."
As he launched into another story, I couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly we were connecting, each story weaving us closer together in this unexpected evening of laughter and shared experiences. The initial awkwardness had completely dissipated, replaced by a sense of comfort and camaraderie that felt both exciting and natural.
"You have some pretty wild stories," I said, still marveling at the idea of a kangaroo on the track. "I can't imagine how you keep your cool in situations like that."
He shrugged, a modest smile playing on his lips. "You get used to it, I guess. Racing teaches you to expect the unexpected. But it's not always as dramatic as dodging wildlife. Sometimes it's the little things that make a big difference, like dealing with sudden changes in weather or handling a tricky pit stop."
I leaned in, fascinated. "Tell me more about the pit stops. They always seem so intense on TV."
Oscar's eyes lit up as he delved into the intricacies of pit stops, explaining how every second counts and how the coordination between the driver and the crew is crucial. "It's a lot of pressure," he admitted, "but when it goes smoothly, it's one of the most satisfying parts of the race."
I nodded, absorbing every word. "It sounds like such a team effort. I never realized how much went into it."
"Exactly," he said, clearly pleased by my interest. "It's one of the things I love most about racing—the teamwork and the camaraderie. Everyone has to be at their best for the team to succeed."
We continued to share stories, the conversation flowing easily. I told him about my vlogging adventures, from the hilarious mishaps to the rewarding moments when a video resonated with my audience. Oscar listened intently, asking thoughtful questions and laughing at my anecdotes.
As the night grew later, the atmosphere around us became more intimate. We moved closer, our shoulders almost touching. The moonlight glimmered off the water, casting a soft glow on Oscar’s face.
"That sounds amazing," he said, his voice low and warm, his Australian accent adding a melodic lilt that sent shivers down my spine. Every word he spoke seemed to resonate deep within me, his low vibrato giving me butterflies.
I smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Thanks. It's not always easy, but it's definitely worth it."
He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was light, almost tentative. "I can tell," he said softly, his accent making each syllable feel like a caress. "Your eyes light up when you talk about it."
My heart skipped a beat as his hand lingered on my cheek. He leaned in, and before I could fully process what was happening, his lips brushed against my cheek in a soft, lingering kiss.
"You’re really something, you know that?" he murmured, his lips close to my ear. His breath sent shivers down my spine, his accent making the words even more intoxicating.
I felt my cheeks flush, a smile spreading across my face. "You’re not so bad yourself," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. The way his accent rolled off his tongue was doing things to me I hadn't anticipated.
Oscar’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "You know," he said, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, "I've been wanting to kiss you all evening." His accent made the confession sound even more alluring.
"Is that so?" I asked, my voice playful yet breathless. The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering wildly.
He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "Absolutely. You’ve been driving me crazy with that smile of yours," he said, his accent making the words feel even more intimate and personal.
I laughed softly, feeling a mixture of flattery and nervous excitement. "Well, I guess I'm guilty as charged."
He leaned in closer, his lips now brushing against my ear. "Maybe we should make a habit of this. I like seeing you happy," he whispered, his accent sending delicious shivers down my spine.
My heart raced as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "You’re pretty good at making that happen," I admitted, feeling a surge of boldness. The way his voice, with its rich accent, played over my senses made me feel something stirring inside.
Oscar’s grin widened, and he reached for my hand. "Follow me," he said, his voice filled with playful promise. His touch was electric, sending a thrill through me as I placed my hand in his.
"Where are we headed to next?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. I was clearly blushing and super happy, unable to hide my excitement.
Oscar’s smile widened. "A yacht," he said simply, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
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yourusername: finally, date night!
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user1: i'm going to totally pretend that your now "chill" caption truly encapsulates how you are feeling (you were freaking out on priv earlier)
oscarpiastri: priv??! let me follow the account @/yourusername
yourusername: priv... what are you talking about i don't have a priv
oscarpiastri: 🧐🫵🏻
francisca.cgomes: what a beautiful girl 💋💋
yourusername: you're talking! babe you ae so beautiful as well 💋
oscarpiastri: are you flirting with my girl @/francisca.gcomes???
user2: MY GIRL SJIJSJORJDSS
user3: that's so alpha male of you oscar
yourusername: so what if she is 🙄
oscarpiastri: i've had her for less than a day let gooo 😥
francisca.cgomes: idc 🙄🙄
charles_leclerc: children please stop fighting
pierregasly: @/francisca.cgomes ... babe what about me
user4: LMAO KIKA NOT ANSWERING BAHAHA
user5: mawmaw yi pawpaw
liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri
user6: guys i just happened to be at the same resturaunt as them tonight bc of a family dinner and let me tell YOUUU, they were so flirty with each other omg. like i sat at the table adjacent to their left so i got a birds eye view of all of the blushing. like he kept intentionaly touching her hand and stuff it was so cute 😵‍💫🫠🥰
user7: landonorizz you got some competition @/landonorris
user8: yeah lando, i fear oscar may have more rizz than you
landonorris: 🙄👊🏼
user9: call him, oscarizz...?
user10: 💀💀 nahh that didn't hit LMAO
oscarpiastri
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 628,100 others
oscarpiastri: i took her to my penthouse and i freaked it
view comments:
yourusername: NO OSCAR THE CAPTION 😥😥😥
yourusername: HE DOESN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT
yourusername: OSCAR AND I DIDN'T FUCK
oscarpiastri: exactly, a gentleman never does such thing on a first date
yourusername: WHY IS THAT YOUR CAPTION NOOOO
oscarpiastri: people are not misunderstanding 🫷🏻🫸🏻
yourusername: OSCAR THEY ARE MISUNDERSTANDING IN THE COMMENTS
yourusername: I DID NOT DO SUCH DEED
user1: i love how y/n is literally freaking tf out and oscar is chill
user2: LMAO i can just see the cartoon silly steam leaking from her ears everytime oscar does anything
user3: god i don't even know if i want to be her or oscar
user4: i choose both.
user5: THEY FUCKED??? 😡😡🤬🤯🤯🤯😰😰😰😰🫨🫨🫨🤐
user6: oscar MY MAN the caption feels a little... sus
user7: had to clean my glasses to reread the caption
user7: because y/n's beauty was genuinely blinding me
user8: aight oscar who wrote that caption 😵😵
user9: ignoring the weird??! caption, they look SOOO CUTE UGH
yourusername: TYSMMMM <3 (pls ignore the weirdass caption yes, yes pls do that)
user10: LMAO
charles_leclerc: ...
oscarpiastri: father, please look away
yourusername: oh!- so NOW your embarassed
charles_leclerc: sending a screenshot of the caption to your mother brb
oscarpiastri: i hope you are reffering to alex
charles_leclerc: no, i definitely mean nicole
oscarpiastri: DELETE DELETE DELETE
logansargeant: bro your cooked
charles_leclerc: "OSCAR JACK PIASTRI" - what your mom said, she said it, not me
charles_leclerc: "HAVE SOME MORE DECORUM YOUNG MAN" - nicole
charles_leclerc: "TREAT A LADY WITH RESPECT"
oscarpiastri: ma'am yes ma'am 🫡🫡🫡
yourusername: god i love your mom @/oscarpiastri
yourusername: ty for doing me a service 🙏🏼🙌🏼 @/charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc: no problem, a future leclerc-piastri deserves the best 🫡
charles_leclerc: (you better wife her up)
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oscarpiastri posted on his story
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caption: i finally got my dream girl her dream bags 🫶🏻❤️🧡💙
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author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 (part THREE yay or nay?!)
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headspace-hotel · 2 years
Text
The day before yesterday I got to try a ripe pawpaw for the first time.
Someone else was supposed to come in at the center, but I was in the mood to be alone, so I fucked off into the woods at the earliest available opportunity, looking to collect more hickory nuts.
I hiked about two miles down the trail, seeking to find a little-used path as far from the center as I could reasonably make it. I was five or ten minutes down a fork in the path heading down a valley when I unexpectedly smelled something familiar: the scent of ripe pawpaws. I only knew that scent from having come upon a rotten one several days back on the trail.
I had seen pawpaw trees on the way up, but I looked around and saw nothing. I indulged a beast-like impulse: I sniffed. I turned until I was facing the direction of the scent and moved towards it. And I saw, about 50 feet away down the hillside below...a pawpaw grove
Some interesting facts about pawpaws:
The pawpaw is the largest fruit native to North America, known for its "tropical" flavor. Despite being reputed to be delicious, it is not found in grocery stores due to the fruits being far too delicate to ship without spoiling. A few people farm them, but otherwise the only way to get one is to come upon one growing wild, which is rare, because the opossums love them.
Pawpaw trees are hard to grow and take 10-15 years to produce fruit, but you can see wild ones in mature and well managed woods of Kentucky. They are small, barely trees, only about 15-20 feet tall, with trunks only a bit bigger around than a circle you can make with your index finger and thumb. They almost always grow in clonal colonies, groups of many trees that are all clones of each other due to being propagated from the roots of existing trees. They are also strictly understory trees, growing in the shade of much larger trees.
Now, an interesting fact about Eastern Kentucky: At the fringe of Appalachia, and even into parts of the Outer Bluegrass, the terrain frequently turns into very steep rolling hills.
It's hard to notice if you are in more cultivated areas that have been leveled out more, but in wilder parts you can seldom just casually walk in a straight line through the woods. Unless you are following the contour of the hills, you are either sliding and gripping saplings to slow your descent or you are climbing on all fours.
Such was the hill below me, descending at roughly a fifty-degree angle into the pawpaw grove.
I was going to get me some fucking pawpaws.
I climb down the hill by a combination of scooting, sliding, and scrabbling. After a few minutes of struggle I am standing in the pawpaw grove, alone, scanning the branches with my eyes.
The ground is littered everywhere with pawpaws, some very rotten. I see only two or three fruits remaining in the trees, and I walk around giving each tree a good shake, thinking to myself about how this is certainly an experience shared by millions of years' worth of primate ancestors before me.
After nearly ten minutes of (literally) fruitless tree-shaking, I start to eye the fallen pawpaws on the ground around me.
Some of them are perfectly fine-looking. The skin hasn't even been broken into. I pick one up.
It is very soft, but not squishy like something rotten. It is about as long as my index finger (my hands are small) and oblong. Its smooth skin is pale green and spotted with brown like a very ripe banana. I tear the skin back and give the creamy orange insides a test lick.
Friends.
It was transcendent.
Imagine the most perfect ripe mango, but with a flavor that is more banana-like, mellow and creamy and mild instead of tangy. The texture is perfectly smooth and soft unlike any other fruit. You can lick it and it will just melt in your mouth.
I am autistic and a very picky eater due to the difficult textures of many foods, and this fruit has the perfect texture. Mangos are already one of my favorite foods and this is somehow even better. I remember, deliriously, that farmers are seeking to improve pawpaws for possible commercial production, and it seems like the height of foolishness there in the pawpaw grove. There is no possible way wild pawpaws could be improved. All of creation is tainted by the Fall of Man, except for fucking pawpaws, because they are beyond the earthly tier of fruits.
I lick it like a dog going crazy on a Kong full of peanut butter until it falls apart in my hands and start scanning the ground for another.
They are all perfectly ripe and mostly untouched by bugs or creatures. I start just squishing them in my hands and licking the creamy insides. I am just planting my face in these fruits like some kind of animal. My face and hands are covered in pawpaw squish.
I go through like ten of them before returning to my senses. I've been thoughtlessly wiping my hands on my pants, and they are now more soiled than the clothes of the messiest toddler. I feel primal and connected to my ancestors. I have truly earned my Primate Card.
My mom said in the car that I smelled very strongly of something (pawpaws) so it's safe to say that literally every person I passed on the way back down the trail got a good whiff too, and likely connected it to the Pawpaw Squish that was basically all over me.
Regrets: None
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mickandmusings · 2 months
Text
vi. 'tis the damn season
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part of the 'hangman & honey' series!
summary: for the past six months, jake has spent every spare moment attempting to mend communication between he and honey. for months, he uses his phone calls to phone her, leave long voicemails, and writes her multiple letters a week. his efforts come with no avail, she never calls or writes him back. with christmas around the corner, jake makes his way back home to texas, but not before making an important stop along the way.
word count: 6.1k
warnings: 18+ mdni!! (dirty talk, but no explicit descriptions); definite military inaccuracies; definite college inaccuracies; general angst; christmas story in august?
-
'Dear Honey,
I know this is the third or fourth letter this week, and I'm not even sure if you're receiving these, but I can't just not write to you. I left you another voicemail, and I'm not sure if you're listening to those either, but I have talked to you nearly everyday since we were nine, and, well, that's not a habit you break easily. I called you on your birthday last week and left a message, and I sent you a card, I hope you got them both.
Honey, I'm sorry. I'll say it in every voicemail and every letter until you believe me. I shouldn't have taken so long to tell you the truth. I regret it. If I could take it all back, you know I would. I didn't do it to hurt you, I never want to hurt you. But I know I did, and no words I could say or write will change that. I'm sorry. I'll say it over and over again until you understand how much I mean that.
I know you likely don't want to hear about my time here, but I've always told you everything. If you don't want to hear me talk about it, I thought you might read about it. I can't ever remember a time you weren't reading.
Life here is different. Not bad, just...hard. The weather is certainly cooler than the winters back home. We even got snow, true snow, not the shitty kind we get in Haven. It sticks to the ground, and you can actually play in it, not just bust your ass on ice and sleet. Things are always very routine and strict, but, considering it's a week til Christmas break, things are looking up. Honestly, I've never been more ready to go back home to Texas. Granny said she spoke to you about coming home for Christmas, since you missed Thanksgiving? I really hope you'll come around. I miss you, Honey. I haven't heard your voice since that voicemail you sent me in October. Look, you can stay at the other house, I'll set it up for you before you even get here. Or, I'll stay there, and you can have our my room. You don't even have to talk to me, just please come. Just seeing you would be enough.
My bunkmate, Javy, the one I've mentioned to you for the past few months, he's from New Orleans. He's coming home for Christmas, and he's going to drop me off at the airport there. I'll fly back to Austin from there, and Pawpaw will be there to pick me up. Sometimes, at night or when we have spare time, Javy tells me about his life back home in Louisiana. More often than not, it makes me think of you. They make me think of the birthday beignets you make for Pawpaw, and how you'd make us gumbo in the winter. Frankly, everything makes me think of you. Honey, I see you everywhere. There are these bushes outside Bancroft Hall, and they're full of these little white and red flowers. I'm not sure what they're called, but they're pretty, and I know you'd love them. There's a kid in one of my morning classes, and he's got your accent too. It's nice to hear, I haven't heard your voice in so long. I hope the Magnolia State is treating you well. I imagine you're much happier with your favorite flower all around you.
I don't have much else to tell you about. I'd like to tell you my other stories when we're face to face again. I just wanted to let you know I miss you, and I love you, always. Call me back or write to me whenever you get the chance, if you're feeling up to it.
All my love,
Jake'
Honey holds the paper tightly in her hands, letting it crinkle under the pressure of her grasp. If he'd sent this letter when they'd first split, she'd have balled it up or ripped it to pieces with her blinding, white-hot rage. She had been so angry when she'd first moved away, ignoring his incessant phone calls and numerous voicemails. She had let his letters pile up on her desk, unopened and unread. In the chance that he'd sent this letter just a few months later, she would have stained the ink of his letters with her tears. After her anger came a fierce sadness, one that seeped into her bones and left her incapacitated, ridden with the agony that threatened to pull her under like a rogue wave. But now, as she stares down at Jake's scratchy handwriting across the lined paper, she simply feels numb. His letter does not spark an onslaught of tears or suffocating sobs that leave her chest heaving. She simply folds the letter back up and slides it back into its envelope, placing it gently on her desktop, deciding to deal with it later, much like the emotions it evoked.
She knows she shouldn't, but she grabs the familiar orange sweatshirt that lives on her bed and throws it over her head. It comes to her knees and the sleeves are far too long, but it provides her with a comfort she almost wishes it didn't. In her tiny dorm room in Starkville, her small college town (although bigger than Haven,) she feels isolated. Her entire life for the past six months had simply been going-through-the-motions of life: wake up, go to class, come home, study, finish assignments, work a shift at her on-campus job, shower, repeat. Life had become monotonous, something that her life with Jake never was.
She knows she shouldn't wallow. She should try and get out, make more friends-more than just the lady at the circulation desk in the library-and try to enjoy her life at nineteen. But, once again, that gnawing, creeping feeling infiltrates her chest, Honey wasn't like her classmates. She wouldn't enjoy sitting in a bar or attending a frat party. She'd sit in the corner alone, nursing a drink she likely wouldn't finish, and leave with an Irish goodbye. Now, all she had was a sweatshirt that smelled faintly of the boy she once slept next to each night, and it was her only source of comfort.
Honey knows she should get up and call Mrs. Janet, to let her know that she's okay, and that she was settled. The last time she'd spoken to her or Mr. Jacob had been nearly two weeks ago. She should call Haley and Sarah Grace back, both of her hometown friends had been calling since they'd met up for the last time in October. She knows she should stop shutting those who loved her out-Jake included-but that was a different situation entirely.
Instead of doing any of the aforementioned, she simply sinks into her comforter and puts her headphones on, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. She was glad her roommate had left for her own home state, leaving her alone in the dorm room for the next two weeks. Deep down, Honey knew she was lying to herself. She yearned for the feeling of home, her true home, on a farm in Texas. She craved Mrs. Janet's cowboy cookies that she made at least two dozen too many of, and Mr. Jacob's Christmas ham that took hours to get just right, but was so worth it when it practically melted in her mouth. She missed sitting around a room full of the Seresin family, watching the children open new toys and heaps of candy. She'd laugh as they opened new clothes with sour faces, quickly ditching them for the next box in shiny wrapping. Their childlike joy made her own flare, leaving her chest warm as she giggled quietly in Jake's arms. She missed Jake sneaking them eggnog from the kitchen, and the babbling laughter they erupted into when they realized no matter how much older they got, it was always just as disgusting as the first time he'd snuck it when they were thirteen. Mostly, she missed the warm, peaceful feeling she felt when she was in a room full of people she loved most. In a bout of honesty, she admits that maybe, just maybe, she just missed Jake.
Through her headphones, she can hear the rain patter against her window, and she sighs, the weather only adding to her melancholy mood. Honey knew if she chose to rot in bed, her emotions would only grow heavier, so with a deep sigh, she rolls out of bed and slides on her worn sneakers. She takes off Jake's Longhorns hoodie and swaps it for her own, tosses the hood over her head, and grabs the keys to Jake's truck. She grabs her finished library books to return, and her wallet, deciding to wallow in the secluded section of the library instead. She walks out of her dorm room, locks the door, and takes the stairs down to the lobby. She pushes the door open and heads out into the rain.
Honey would never make it to the library that day.
-
Two weeks prior...
"You scribblin' away for that girl again, Seresin?"
Javy's voice fills Jake's ears, and Jake doesn't bother looking up as he shoots his roommate a middle finger salute. Javy laughs at the action before climbing into his top bunk, leaning his head against his pillow. There's silence between the two before Javy's voice cuts through again.
"So when are you gonna tell me about her?"
From the second that Javy had met Jake, it seemed like something was weighing his bunkmate down. It wasn't until a week or so later, when they both were calling home, that Javy learned it wasn't something, it was someone. Jake kept information about his girl on lock, so Javy knew little information: her name was Honey, which Javy found odd, but brushed it off. She was studying English at a college in Mississippi, and Jake had, somehow, royally fucked things up with her before he'd come to the Academy.
Jake sighs, stopping his writing as he looks up at his friend on the top bunk.
"If I tell you, will you shut up for ten minutes so I can write?"
Javy nods, his brown eyes sparkling with a stream of questions he'd been burning to ask.
"Fine, what'dya want to know?"
Javy is quiet for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, as if pondering something.
"What's she like? Wait! No, let me guess! She was a cheerleader, pretty little thing, prom queen, the whole nine-yards to your little All-American thing."
Jake lets out a laugh, thinking of Honey as he shakes his head.
"You couldn't be more wrong. Except the pretty part, she-she's gorgeous."
"Really?" Javy sits up and leans over the metal railing of the bunk. "What? Is she like some metal chick with the eyeliner?"
Javy motions around his eye to emphasize his point.
Jake's eyes widened, continuing to shake his head.
"Definitely not."
"Then what's she like? C'mon man, you gotta give me something! You're always callin' her and writin' her, and I never see you get a response. She got you under Love Potion Number Nine or something? She do the whole magic thing? Can't trust that man."
"No, no, she's not like that. She's-," Jake pauses, trying to find the most accurate words to describe Honey. "She's quiet, shy, she's practically the opposite of me. She likes to read, a lot. I don't think there's ever been a time in our lives when she didn't have a book in her hand. She's kind, never lacking patience when it comes to all of my bullshit. And smart, ridiculously so, she's the smartest person I know. Honey is...witty, and funny, she's got this sarcastic sense of humor that you'd never expect from her. W-We've been friends since we were kids. We started datin' in high school, and we had this fight before I came here, and, obviously, she's still mad about it, so...yeah."
Javy notes the glimmer in Jake's eyes as he talks about his girlfriend, a small smile forming across his lips. Javy hadn't known Jake for more than six months, but this was probably the happiest he'd seen his bunkmate. Javy shrugs, giving his friend another incredulous look.
"So what are you gonna do about it, Seresin?"
Jake's jade eyes look up at him, his letter finished but suddenly forgotten.
"What do you mean? She obviously doesn't want to speak to me. The only time she's spoken to me in six months is when she left me a drunk voicemail on Halloween, saying how I made her cry. What am I supposed to do with that? If she saw me, she'd probably knock my lights out."
Javy shrugs. "But do you love her?"
Jake looks down at his well-kept shoes.
"More than she'll ever know."
"You said she's studying in Starkville? You think she's going back to Texas for Christmas?"
"It's unlikely," Jake responds, his voice somber at the admission. "Why?"
"Well," Javy props back onto his pillow, his hands tucked under his head. "I'm driving back home for Christmas, passin' right through Mississippi. It sounds like if you messed this up, you need to be the one to fix it. Show her you haven't given up, and you want her back. If you surprise her, maybe she'll give you a chance to explain yourself."
Jake's heart hammers in his chest, his friend's plan wasn't entirely bad. Jake looks up at his bunkmate, his face set in a knowing look.
"Honey hates surprises."
"And you hate living without her, which one will be worse: her temporary anger, or never speakin' to her again?"
Jake sighs, he hates that Javy was right. Maybe it was a stupid idea, cancelling his flight back home from Austin, tagging along on a road trip with Javy to get the love of his life back. But, a week later, Jake's duffel was slung into the backseat of Javy's car haphazardly as he rode shotgun, giving his friend directions toward a small Mississippi town.
-
Now, Honey makes her way across the rainy parking lot. Through her blurry eyesight, she quickly finds Jake's truck in the nearly empty parking lot. She fishes the key from the bundle of keys in her hand, sliding it into the key slot on the door and unlocking the door. Before she could remove the key and pop open the door, Honey hears a voice call out her name. She pauses, and for a split second, she thinks she hears Jake's voice. She shakes her head, pulling at the driver's side door. It was often shut too hard, and she had to pull with a good portion of her strength to get it to open. As she tugs on the handle, she hears it again, her name in Jake's voice. She tugs harder, thinking she was finally losing her mind.
"Honey, wait!"
The footsteps behind her alert her that the voice she had been hearing likely wasn't just a hallucination. She turns abruptly, and her heart stops in her chest. There, standing before her in a rain-soaked Navy sweatshirt and jeans, his significantly shorter blonde locks plastered against his forehead, was one Jake Seresin. Honey's eyes widened in shock, the breath in her chest growing short and ragged. She pulls her books closer to her chest, an action of both shock and keeping them as dry as possible. Her eyes dart back and forth between his own. She's quiet for a moment, rendered completely speechless.
"Jake?!" Her eyebrows furrowed. "What the hell are you doing here?! You-You're supposed to be on a plane to Austin right now!"
Jake stands in front of her, motionless, as his eyes take her in completely. It had been so long since he'd seen her, and he simply wanted to peer at her forever. She hadn't changed much, she was still shorter than him in stature, still an avid reader by the small pile of books she'd finally tossed onto the truck seat, but her eyes didn't quite shine like they once had. Jake's heart hammered in his chest, staring at the girl he loved standing in front of him in the pouring rain, arms crossed over her chest, shivering in the cold.
"Jake, hey?!" She waves her hand in front of his face, attempting to gain his attention. "What are you doing here?!"
Honey's voice is loud enough to hear over the rain pelting around them both. Her eyes are wide as he looks down at her, his hands itch to touch her, but he keeps them at his side. He takes another look into her eyes, and he simply loses every ounce of control he has. He takes a step forward towards her, his hands come to rest on either side of her face. Honey wants to knock his hands away, she wants to let her anger simmer forever, but the warmth of his calloused touch provides her with a comfort she hadn't felt in so long. If it had not been raining so fiercely, both halves of the pair would realize the tears running down one another's face. He's silent for a long moment, simply taking in her face for the first time in months.
"Honey, I-I fucked up," Jake starts, his voice trembling with a flurry of emotions. "Honey, I fucked up so, so bad."
He pauses, allowing the rain to soak through both their clothes, his thumb brushing carefully against her cheek. His bottom lip trembles, his hands beginning to shake against her face. Honey says nothing, only braving a look into his green eyes darkening with tears.
"I-I've apologized a thousand times over the past six months and it's not enough. It'll never be enough, because knowin' I hurt you?" He pauses and shakes his head with his lips pressed into a fine line, effectively keeping him from bursting into sobs. "Honey, that shit has ripped me to shreds everyday since you left. I-I never meant to hurt you, ever. I'll spend the rest of my life apologizin' to you if that's what you want." His eyes bore into her own, his breaths shaky.
"I'll spend the rest of my life on hands and knees, grovelin' if that's what you want. A-And if you tell me to fuck off and never speak to you again, I-I'll do it. Just-just know that all of me-body, heart, soul, everything I am-it belongs to you. If you've decided that you're movin' on, and you want to do everythin' we planned with someone else, I won't try to stop it. But, you have to know somethin', and I need you to understand that it doesn't matter if you move to Canada, o-or you stay here, or you move back to Haven, my heart forever sits in your hands. It's yours, forever, whether I have yours or not. That house on my grandparent's farm? I fixed it for you, it's yours. This truck? It's yours, take it. Honey, you can have whatever you want, I'll buy you whatever you want, I'll make it if I can't buy it. Tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen. Whatever it is, baby, it's yours."
His chest moves quickly with his rapid breaths, his hands shaking from his contained emotions. Honey simply looks at him, still a bit shocked that he's standing in front of her. If she wasn't overwhelmed by the landslide of apologies he'd just spouted, she'd have given him her own back. Instead, she stands a bit still, her chest just as heavy as his. He mistakes her silence as rejection, and his face falls as he gives a subtle nod of his head. His hands move from her face, and, in that split second, Honey is shocked into action. She wouldn't lose him again, she couldn't lose him again. In one quick swoop, she grabs the wrists of his sweatshirt, pulling his attention back to her. She speaks a tad louder than her normal tone, ensuring he would hear her over the pelting rain.
"You, all I want is you. That-That's all I've ever wanted, Jake!"
He catches a glimpse of her face, her cheeks pink as she shivers, but her eyes, they were the same love-filled gaze he'd remembered. He wanted to begin another string of apologies, to assure her that he meant everything he said, but he never got the chance. In an action almost completely out of nature for the shy girl he knew, her arms were around his neck, pulling his lips towards hers in a heated passion. He wasted no time in indulging in the action, his hands coming to her hips, lifting her a bit higher to deepen the kiss. The sweet kiss quickly turns to a clash of teeth and heated movements, and Jake quickly hoists her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as if it were muscle memory.
From his car across the lot, Javy shakes his head and smiles as the two embrace one another. He cranks his car back up, backs out of the parking spot and turns back onto the main road. He shakes his head as he thinks of his friend, mumbling to himself as he drives:
"Tis the damn season, Seresin, you lucky dog."
Back at the school, it only takes a split second for the couple's kiss to grow a bit too intense for the parking lot setting, and, without thinking, Jake pulls her through the lobby's double doors and into the elevator, where the two finally break apart for a split second.
"J-Jake, I-I never should've left like that, I-,"
She doesn't get to finish, Jake's lips are back on hers, this time with more fervor than before. Honey shudders, with both the cold from her wet clothes and the heat building in her torso. They break apart as the elevator dings, and Honey is pulling Jake by the hand back to her dorm. She all but shoves him inside, locking the door behind her. Jake wastes no time in crossing back to her, slowly pulling off the hood of her hoodie, his eyes widening when he glances at her mostly dry hair.
"Y-Your hair, it's...shorter."
She chuckles. "Yeah, I just needed a change...you're one to talk, J, I've never seen your hair that short."
He pulls her in closer by her hips, lifting the soaked hoodie over her head as he speaks.
"Yeah, well, plebe summer wasn't my best look, you're just lucky you missed me bald, baby."
Even in the dim light of the dorm room, Jake notes the darkening look of her gaze, her lids growing heavier with desire. Honey's hand comes to the short hair growing on the nape of his neck, her head cocking to the side as she threads her fingers through the new growth, a look on her face he can't quite place. He pulls her flush against him, attempting to read her look.
"Hm, yeah," she starts. "I'm real glad I missed that part. Y'know, why?"
The girl below him moves to kiss the underside of his jaw, making his hands tighten on the grip he has on her hips.
"Why's that, baby?"
Honey's lips move to his neck, his hands slipping past her hips and to the round of her bottom. Above all else, Jake Seresin had been raised to be a Southern gentleman, but his resolve was slipping.
"Because," Honey starts, her accent slipping through, causing the heat in Jake's lower half to grow unbearable as her lips continue their course down his skin. "I like havin' somethin' to hold onto when you're between my thighs."
Long gone was Honey's shy demeanor, and long gone was Jake's gentlemanly resolution. Without a word, he's tossing his own damp sweatshirt over his head and throwing it to the floor with her own. Honey has ditched her drenched shirt and sweatpants, now standing nearly bare between Jake's arms. Without a second of hesitation, Jake pulls her onto the ridiculously small bed, but he pays it no mind, more focused on the grinning girl beneath him. He kisses her lips passionately, his hands resting on her bare thighs. His own heart hammers, and, as he kisses down Honey's neck, he can feel her own beating just as loudly. He pulls away, tossing off his damp jeans to the floor. He looks down at her almost bare frame, his emerald eys heavy with lust, but his voice is cased in affection.
"If this is what you want, that's certainly fine with me, but I need to hear you say it, baby."
Honey looks up at Jake's kind but intense gaze, her heart slowing a bit.
"After that whole The Notebook-esque apology you pulled, yes, I want this."
She nods in confirmation, and Jake wastes no time in attaching his lips back to hers. Honey's hands fly back to his hair, her fingers digging into his locks. Jake's hands come to her torso, carefully sliding off the clothing constricting her chest and tossing it onto the floor. He pauses for a brief moment, staring down as he hovers over her. Honey looks up at him, her head cocking to the side.
"Jake? Hey, what's the matter?"
Jake's mind is in overdrive, and he simply feels the urge to stop and stare at her. She's bare before him, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing with affection. Jake swallows thickly as he pushes hair out of her face.
"Honey, you-you're beautiful. I am the luckiest man on fuckin' Earth, baby."
Honey blushes at his compliment, pulling him back in with a heated kiss.
"You're such a smooth talker, Seresin...but right now, I need you to use that mouth of yours for somethin' other than talkin'."
Jake grins from ear to ear, the usual smirk she's used to seeing painted across his face. His thumb brushes against the fabric adorning her hip, gently pushing it down. He tosses them to the floor along with the other clothes they'd shed, and nudges his way in between her legs. Heat fills the space between them completely as he speaks:
"Yes ma'am."
-
Hours later, in the late hours of the night, Honey is woken by the vibrating of something nearby. Jake-who has her pressed into his chest with the strength of a bear-doesn't budge. Honey, ever the light sleeper, groans, lightly tapping Jake's shoulders. His body moves, but he simply curls back into their shared pillow. She shoves him again, a little harder this time as she speaks.
"Jake," Her words receive no response, so she speaks again. "Jake!"
It's Jake's turn to groan, his arms pulling her closer to his bare chest.
"Hm? What is it, baby?"
Honey's lack-of-sleep induced annoyance fades at the nickname she so adores.
"Your phone is ringing."
Jake groans again, slipping out from under the blush pink sheets and searching for his phone that he assumed was still lodged into his jean pocket. Honey opts to glance at his newly toned arms and strong, broad shoulders, his time training in Maryland obviously having physical gain. He hits the button on the screen, not bothering to look at the caller ID, and speaks:
"Hello?"
"Jacob Thomas! Where the hell are you?!" His grandfather's voice fills his ears, and Jake pales. Shit. He had completely forgotten to tell his grandparents about his detour. "I've been sitting at the airport for three hours, son!"
"Pawpaw, I-I'm sorry, Javy just decided to take me all the way back to-" He's cut off abruptly.
"Look, that's fine, but you could've called. Your grandmother's callin' and she's pissed, son. Just get home, alright? Preferably sometime before Christmas Eve? She's already distraught about Honey not comin' around, so, the sooner the better. Heard?"
"Loud and clear."
"Alright, well, I love you, kid. Be careful."
"Love you too."
Jake hangs up the phone, crawling back into Honey's sheets and pulling her back into his arms. Honey's nose burrows into the crook of his neck, Jake's warm skin against her own far warmer than any blanket she owned. Jake's hand ghosted against her side, the other threading through her hair. His voice is low and soft as he speaks:
"How do you feel about Christmas in Texas?"
Honey's eyes open, looking up at her boyfriend with a shy smile, completely retreating back into her usual quiet self, a stark difference from the heated confidence that had run through her only hours before. Her eyes glimmered in the moonlight, a wide grin on her face as she buries herself back into his neck, his toned arms pulling her in tightly.
"I don't know if they'd even want me there, I should've called Mrs. Janet back, haven't responded in like two weeks."
Jake scoffs, pushing back a hair from her face.
"Don't even think like that. They're gonna be more excited to see you than me."
"Guess we'll find out." Honey pushes up from her spot next to Jake, sliding out of bed and slipping on new clothes before packing a small bag for the road. Jake watches from the bed, a smile across his face. He rests his hands behind his head, his blonde locks tossed about from their rendezvous. Honey turns to him once she's dressed.
"Are you gonna show up like that? Not that I mind this look, but your grandmother might have some issues with it." She laughs lightly, tossing him his now dry shirt. "You might want to get dressed, babe."
Honey stills and grows red when the nickname falls from her lips without any thought. She turns to Jake, his eyebrow furrowed humorously at the nickname, his right pointer finger beckons her closer. She stands next to him beside the bed, his hand pulling her in by the waist.
"Where did that come from?"
"I-I don't know," she admits bashfully. "B-But if you don't like it-"
"Baby, I more than liked it."
He pulls her closer, plopping her back into the sheets with him. She practically rests completely atop him. His hands move to pull up her shirt, his hands resting on her now bare waist. She makes note of his gaze darkening as he looks down at her, his arousal evident against her leg.
"Jake," her voice is a whisper. "We should really get on the road."
Jake smirks, his lips now kissing the sweet spot behind her ear.
"I'll get up as soon as you do."
Unable to resist one another, they were nearly another two hours before they got back on the road. After those hours and a ridiculously long drive back home to Haven, Honey now rested comfortably in the passenger side of Jake's her truck, Jake's thumb rubbing against her thigh. Both of them were incredibly tired from the prolonged trip, and more than ready to collapse into his childhood bed they'd shared for years. As Jake turned onto Seresin Farm Road, Honey felt her nerves kick in. Despite her excitement to return to the home that had nurtured her, she worried that she was going to be a burden for Janet and Jacob. She hadn't told either of them that she'd be coming home, and Jake hadn't either. She slid closer in the seat to Jake, her head resting on his arm. He looks down at her as they pass one of the many fields on the property.
"You alright, baby? You're lookin' a little out of it."
"M'fine, just nervous."
Jake's eyes cut down at her. "Nervous?"
"It's stupid, I know. I just, didn't tell anyone I was coming, and I don't want to be a burden to your grandparents."
"Honey, you're family. You don't have to let us know you're comin'."
Honey smiles, her nerves fading as the house comes into view. Jake parks the truck, the backwards baseball cap over his head covering his short, blonde locks completely. He cuts her a sly grin, a look of mischief drawn across his face.
"Want to really surprise them?"
Honey cocks her head, puzzled. Jake simply kisses her cheek and hops out of the truck, moving to open the door on her side. He comes to the front door, opening it and promptly hiding Honey behind his taller frame. He comes to the entrance of the kitchen, raising his finger to his lips as he leaves her only a few feet away in the foyer. She can hear his boots against the hardwood as he walks.
"Hey," he speaks simply, both Janet and Jacob Sr.'s eyes cutting to their grandson standing in their doorway.
"Jacob! You scared the devil outta me! Get over here!" Janet shuffles the towering young man into a hug after lightly chastising him.
"Sorry I'm late," Jake's voice is muffled against his grandmother's neck. "Had to make a detour and pick up a little surprise for you."
His grandmother pulls away, her eyebrows furrowed as she gives the blonde a questioning look. "Surprise?"
Jake sends her a blinding smile. He pokes his head around the corner, beckoning Honey forward with his pointer finger. Honey shakes her head as she approaches, and Jake slings his arm around her shoulder.
"Hi," Honey speaks quietly. Janet and Jacob Sr. both turn, smiles painting across their faces.
"Honey! Oh my, sweet girl, you did surprise us!" Janet's voice is bubbly as she shuffles over to her grandson's girlfriend, pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh! And look at that hair, it's just darlin' on you!"
Honey feels her heart hammer, and she has to swallow down her tears as the older woman embraces her. Jake's grandfather follows suit, and Honey can no longer stop the tears rolling down her face. Janet wipes them away with the back of her hand.
"You alright there, Hon?" Jacob Sr. fills her ears. Honey nods through her tears, crossing the kitchen back to Jake's arms. He pulls her close, kissing the crown of her head as her tears stain his shirt. Janet's eyes gleam as she sees the two being affectionate again. She had been so worried about them both being apart for so long.
"I'm fine, promise." Honey's voice wobbles slightly. "I'm just really, really happy to be home. I didn't want to be a burden, but, I-I've really missed you guys."
"Oh nonsense! I promise we're happy to have you home, sweetheart." Janet's own face wobbles with emotion. "Now, c'mon, I'm glad I waited to make desserts, now I've got double the help."
She shuffles her bowls of ingredients around on the counter and Honey pulls away from Jake, more than happy to lend a hand with making sweets. Jake slips out of the kitchen to allow them to share their moment, and finds himself lounging next to his grandfather in the living room.
The graying man peers up at him over his glasses, giving him a satisfied look.
"Smart move there, son."
Jake directs his eyes from the black and white film on the TV to his grandfather.
"What do you mean?"
"Bringin' Honey home, makin' things right with her. Me and your Granny learned real quick this place doesn't feel the same when you two aren't around."
Jake smiles, shocked by the amount of emotion behind his usually stoic grandfather's words. The older man only gives him a hint of a smile before focusing on his western movie again. Jake listens as he hears Honey's laughter from the kitchen, and for the first time in six months, he feels content. Exhausted from hours of driving and he and Honey's activities in her dorm, he falls asleep on the couch.
Later, after Honey and Janet have finished their baking for the night, Honey spots Jake sprawled across the sofa, his boots and hat abandoned at the end. She covers him up with the blanket that rests behind him, placing a kiss on his forehead. She hadn't intended to wake him, but his eyes popped open. He's not fully awake, still a little bleary eyed as his hands fumble for her torso.
"C'mon, J, you're tired. Let's go to bed."
"Hm, lead the way, baby."
That night, Jake sleeps with Honey under his chin, tucked comfortably into his hold as tightly as possible. He dreams of Honey vividly-although mundane and simple, his dreams are a comfort: them sitting placidly with one another as she reads and he looks on as her voice fills his ears. For the first time in nearly six months, both of them slept peacefully and deeply, in a way they never could without sleeping next to one another. Tomorrow, when the Texas sun blares through Jake's thin curtains, they'll both be thrown headfirst into holiday preparations. But tonight, under the same roof where their story had ended, it begins again: Honey, in Jake's arms, sleeping content and comfortable in the bedroom up the stairs.
-
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mrsevans90 · 10 months
Text
Puppy Love
Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 1
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Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?
Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 
Word Count: 3,502
Warnings: Abused animal, domestic violence, stalker ex-boyfriend, mention of nightmares/PTSD, smut in future chapters.
MINORS DNI! Must be 18+
I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 
This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.
A big thanks to @shellyshellshell for encouraging me to write this story!
A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 
*Syverson POV*
It’s certainly difficult to leave the cool air conditioning of the house to head to work when the weather forecast predicts another scorching Texas summer day where the humidity makes your clothes immediately stick to your skin. It’s nothing I’m not familiar with having grown up in Texas my whole life and then spending two tours in the desert before returning home. You’d think I would move somewhere cold, but the south is all I know. I certainly couldn’t leave Nana and Pawpaw either. After finishing my last tour, I came home and bought an empty house in disrepair and spent the better part of a year ripping it to studs and rebuilding. I was really struggling with returning to civvy life after spending the majority last ten years in the sand pit. Originally, I had just planned to fix up my house so that it was comfortable and hell, livable, until I discovered what I wanted to do outside of the army. Remodeling my house taught me that I really enjoyed working with my hands and building things. I guess you could say taking a broken, outdated home and making it beautiful and functional again really resonated with me on a deeper level. I was lucky to leave the army with only some mild PTSD and nightmares. Hell, I had all of my limbs and was alive which is more that I can say I deserve. Staying busy helped me cope so after working towards getting my contractor’s license, I decided to start my own company, Syverson Contracting. It was still a small operation with only about seven employees including my cousin Alex, but we got by just fine.
After getting ready for the day and sipping on my cup of coffee on the porch with my German Shepard, Aika, I put my boots on and headed to the truck for the first day on a new worksite. Like usual, I called Nana on the way to work to check in. My grandparents lived about fifteen minutes away from me, but I still called to check on them every morning and make sure they’re doing alright. As I drive, Nana starts chattering all about how her friend’s granddaughter is single and I should be looking for a good woman to marry and settle down with. We’ve had this conversation umpteen times before but I can’t seem to get it through my stubborn grandmother’s head that it’s useless. I’ve been burned by too many women in the past as a young and naïve man and I just don’t want to bring someone into all of my problems. Yes, I go to therapy at the VA to help with my PTSD but it still doesn’t stop the sleepless nights and nightmares that immediately send me back to wartime in the desert. As much as I’ve always wanted a partner in life; a beautiful wife to come home to, a couple of kids and the proverbial picket fence, I just don’t see how it could be in the cards for me now. I’m too fucked up. Nana of course would never understand and I certainly don’t want to drag her into it so I just listen to her drone on and on about some chick named Susanne and then tell her that I’ve got to go.
After speaking with my team and giving instructions for the job, I went to Alex’s flatbed truck and we all started unloading the materials. The home we were working on was owned by a young couple expecting their first child. It was a simple job, replacing the flooring throughout the house, building a shed in the backyard for lawnmowers and other garden tools, and repairing some dry rotting siding near the fireplace. The great thing about my team is that I could get them started and didn’t have to micromanage them. After several hours in the walloping sun, we all broke for lunch. After cooling off and reenergizing at the local Wendy’s, we all headed back to the house to continue our work. Since I was used to being in these weather conditions, I decided to head out toward the edge of the woods in the backyard and start building the garden shed. When I went to lift up some of the plywood, I was beyond shocked to find a shaking and filthy little tan dog who appeared to be injured and terrified.
“Shit. Heya buddy, I ain’t gonna hurt you. It’s alright pal. Let me take a look atcha.”
As a true animal lover, I was immediately enraged. Someone had intentionally abused this poor defenseless animal and either abandoned it or it was able to limp off to the woods. The little male pup, couldn’t be older than a year was bleeding from four different wounds on the side of his sand colored body. The second I scooped him up, he was whining and cowering in fear.
“You’re alright little man. I’m gonna take care of ya. Let’s see if we can getcha to a vet.” I call Aika’s vet office and unfortunately there is no answer. Janet must still be taking her lunch break.
I see Alex walking outside to grab some of the flooring to bring inside and yell for him to come here.
“What’s up, Sy?”
“Just found this little guy beat to hell by the woods.”
“Jesus. What kind of bastards do that to an animal?” Alex ponders as he was looking at the injured and sick animal. 
“I’m gonna see if Dr. Robinson’s in. Hopefully I can get the little feller in today but I need you to run the site until I get back.”
“No problem, Sy. Didn’t she just have another kid? I’m not sure if she’ll be there but I know Jessica said something about them hiring a new vet so I’m sure someone will be around.”
The veterinarian’s office was only a fifteen-minute drive from the site so after giving the poor thing some water, I loaded him up and drove there.
On the ride over, he seemed to relax a bit and not shake as bad as he had been and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Oh Austin! How good to see you! Did your Aika have an appointment?”
“Hey Ms. Janet, is Dr. Robinson in? It’s not for Aika. I found this guy by the woods and he’s been hurt something awful.”
“Heavens to Betsy! Poor little angel! Elizabeth is out on maternity leave but we’ve hired a new vet. You'll like her. Let me check with her and see if she can work you in.”
“Yes ma’am.”
A few moments later, Janet scurries back and directs me to an exam room with the little guy. I guess I could have just dropped him off and went back to work but my heart just couldn’t stand it. Hell, I fought to bring back Aika from Afghanistan because of how quickly I fell in love with her and she’s been the best dog ever. I can’t imagine leaving this little guy to potentially die from his injuries without a friendly face nearby.
*Knock Knock!*
The door opens and my heart stops at the same time. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen enters while carrying a clipboard and a stethoscope. She’s a petite little thing only reaching to my shoulders with long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and crystal blue eyes that feel like they see straight to my soul.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Emma Miller. I hear you found this little guy in the woods?”
“Uh, yes ma’am. Hello there, I’m Austin Syverson. Yeah, I uh, I found him and he looks like he’s been abused.”
She smiles brightly and shakes my hand when I introduce myself and the moment I touch her soft skin, I can hardly think straight. Why the hell do I feel so jittery? It’s just a beautiful woman Sy. Get ahold of yourself. I tell her exactly what I found and she quickly starts examining him while speaking to him in a sweet voice.
“Hi sweet boy. You poor thing! I’m so sorry someone has been treating you so horribly. We’re going to take care of you, yes we are. You’re going to be good as new! I’m going to give you some fluids because you’re dehydrated little guy. Once we get some fluids in you, I’ll try giving you some food. How about that little man?”
I can’t help but smile as she baby talks to him while inserting an IV in his tiny arm and starting him on fluids. She examines the wounds more carefully before retrieving a pair of things that look like tweezers.
“If I had to guess, I would say this guy is about 10-12 months old. I suspect these wounds on his side are from a BB gun. Would you mind holding his head? I’m going to give him some pain relief in his IV to help him relax and then try and clean the area and see if I can remove them. We’re a bit short staffed at the moment with Dr. Robinson out and two of our techs calling in sick so I’ll need your help if that’s okay?”
“Fucking BB guns.” I murmur under my breath. Damn some people are just the worst.
“I’m happy to help.” I tell her quickly and take up residence next to the puppy’s head to hold him still.
“Thank you.” She replies quietly while concentrating on rubbing some brown cleaner across each wound.
I can’t help but watch her as she focuses on removing all four bb’s and placing them into a metal bowl. She’s so effortlessly beautiful and incredibly adorable as she works on the dog who seems to be feeling so much better with the medication and fluids that he has received. She sews up each wound quickly and efficiently. The pup seems to be almost as captivated by her as I am. When she’s done, he even attempts to wag his tail for her. Dr. Miller explains that he will need a flea and tick bath before she can dress the wounds because he has several fleas on him and she doesn’t want them getting into the incisions.
“Mr. Syverson, I hate to keep you from your day. Would you want to just come back for him in a little while? I have to do an exam on a yorkie with diabetes but then I’ll bathe him on my break and get his wounds dressed.”
“Sugar?” I ask.
“I’m sorry, pardon?” She responds a bit flustered.
I smirk as I see the blush tinting her cheeks. “The yorkie. Is it named Sugar?”
“Oh! Yes! Someone you know?”
“My grandma’s neighbor, Mrs. Clayton, has a yappy little yorkie named Sugar and I believe I overheard that it has diabetes.”
“Yes, well that would be her.” She smirks back.
“I don’t mind waiting with the little guy. Is it alright if I stay and help you bathe him? Since your short staffed and all?” I ask with my most charming smile.
Her beaming grin tells me all I need to know. “Sure, Mr. Syverson. Can you give me about twenty minutes?”
“Only if you’ll call me Austin or Sy. Mr. Syverson is my pawpaw.” I say with a grin.
“Alright Austin. I’m going to leave you with some wet food on the table for this little fellow, but can I trust you to only give him small amounts slowly? We don’t know when his last meal was so we don’t want to overwhelm his belly.”
“Yes ma’am.” I mock salute at her with two fingers and she giggles when she leaves the exam room. I swear the moment she did I was a goner. I need to find a way to hear that giggle more.
“Well little guy, it looks as though we are helping each other out, huh? You ain’t the only one broken and battered.” I say as I give the dog a small plastic spoonful of wet dog food that he almost swallows hole.
“What should I call you?” I hypothesize aloud while the pup continues eating sloppily from the spoon I’m holding.
“Since Dr. Miller here patched you up, how about Miller? We can call you Mills for short. What do you think about that? I like it.”
Emma finally returns to the exam room and is happy to see that the Mills has eaten the food I gave him and kept it all down. Due to the food, medications, and fluids he received you can already tell a slight difference in his demeanor.
“Let’s get you all cleaned up, shall we?” She says while carefully picking him up and carrying him to the back of the building before pausing. “You coming, Austin?” She asks.
God, I hope I will be soon. I think before I rush over to open the exam door for her and follow her to the back.
“You know, I’m breaking rules by letting you back here so don’t make me regret it.” She says to me teasingly as she carefully sets Mills into a large stainless-steel sink and begins to bathe him with medicated shampoo.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Dr. Miller.”
“No, if I have to call you Austin, you have to call me Emma. It’s only fair.”
“Well, Emma is a beautiful name so that will be easy. If you don’t mind my asking, where are you from? We haven’t had a new vet in town since Dr. Robinson came and that was probably ten years ago.” I watch as Emma carefully removes three ticks from his fur and want to outwardly cringe. Ticks are the devil’s bug.
“I’m from Alabama. I’ve only been in Texas for about a month but just started working in the office this last week.” She tells me as she very carefully continues to clean Mills.
“What brought you all the way out here? Did your husband get transferred out here or something?”
She side eyes my question with a smirk. “Nope, just the job. No husband or kids. No boyfriend either in case that was your next question.” She remarks sarcastically.
My stomach flips with excitement even though she caught on to what I was really fishing for.
“Well, I’m certainly glad you’re here. For Mills’ health needs of course.” I add quickly while gesturing to the pup.
“Mills?”
“Yup. Short for Miller, after the doctor who’s taking care of him.”
Her cheeks blush bright red as she runs a flea comb gently through his fur. “Well aren’t you just the charmer. I’m surprised Janet didn’t warn me about you. She’s been clueing me in on pretty much the entire town.”
“Ah, good ole’ Janet. She knows there’s no need to warn you about me. She’s known me since I was in diapers so that should tell you enough about my character if she didn’t warn you off.”
“That’s good to know. So, are you planning on keeping little Mills? Or are you wanting us to adopt him out once he’s all healed?”
“Oh, I plan on keeping him if that’s alright. As long as my girl, Aika, is okay with it I’ll keep him. Can’t imagine sending him off to a stranger after what he’s already been through.”
“Well, if your girlfriend isn’t on board with keeping him just let us know and we can see about arranging a foster for him until he’s able to be put up for adoption.” She says while stepping a little further away from me.
Girlfriend? Oh dumbass, you made her think Aika is your girlfriend.
“Aika’s my German Shepard. I don’t have a wife, kids, or a girlfriend either.” I said poking fun at her sarcastic comment from earlier.
Emma grins but just continues to rinse Mills off. She notices that one of his paws looks a bit swollen but she can’t find any cuts or wounds so she thinks it may just be bruised from trying to run from his abuser.
Once we get him dried off, I hold his head again for her to clean and dress the wounds on his side and I’m dreading leaving.
“So, I’ll need to see little Mills in 3 days to check his wounds and remove the stitches. I need you to clean and redress the wounds one time a day like I’ve shown you. I’ve got his medication and antibiotics here and a couple of cans of that wet food that you fed him earlier. I recommend continuing to feed it to him slowly so that his tummy doesn’t get upset. Nobody likes waking up to a dog throwing up or having diarrhea in the house. If he does okay with that food we can discuss increasing his food intake at the next appointment. Do you have any questions, Austin?”
“Just one. Can I get your number, Emma? You know, in case I have questions about your prodigy, Little Mills, here.” I add with a smirk.
“I’m sure you have the number for the vet’s office.” She smirks.
“That I do, but I’d like yours as well, please.” I ask with my most convincing smile.
“Alright, alright. Just don’t advertise it. The last thing I need is people like Mrs. Clayton calling me after hours.” She concedes with a giggle and I can’t help my boisterous laughter at the last part.
“Nobody wants someone like Mrs. Clayton calling them all the time. That woman would talk to a wall just to hear her own voice.” I hand her my phone and she quickly types her number and I save it under “Mills’ Future Mama” and smirk to myself.
I pay and make the next appointment for Mills and then head to the local pet store for a collar, leash, dog bed, and more dog food. Luckily, Mills sleeps on the ride home and I can’t decide if he’s finally realized I’m not going to hurt him or if he’s still drowsy from the effects of the meds he received. I head home and send Alex an update that I’ll be back at the site tomorrow.
When I get home, I bring everything inside before carrying Mills over to Aika and carefully introducing him. After the initial excitement wears off, Aika heads outside to the backyard and I’m relieved that she seems to accept him. She’s always been such a good dog so hopefully I can rely on her to show our little rookie around and teach him our routines.
I go about showering and eating dinner, but I can’t seem to get my mind off Emma. I obviously want to play it cool but she has infiltrated my mind to the point where I just can’t think of anything else. I know this is a bad idea but I can't stop myself. I decide to take a picture of Mills in his little bed and text it to her.
Sy: <attached image>
Mills’ Future Mama: I’m glad to see my namesake is adjusting to his new life. I take it that his sibling accepts him?
Mills’ Future Mama: Also, you’re lucky I opened that picture text. Typically receiving a picture from an unknown number is never a good thing 😖
Sy: Sounds like your mind is in the gutter or you have some seriously unhinged acquaintances, darlin. Aika has accepted him into the pack without hesitation.
Mills’ Future Mama: More like, men are nasty and will take any opportunity to send an unsolicited dick pic to even the most unwilling recipients. Glad you found the little guy. He seems right at home.
Sy: He is. You should come visit him sometime.
Mills’ Future Mama: Why would I do that when he’ll be in my office in three days?
Sy: Maybe to see his owner?
Mills’ Future Mama: I’d imagine his daddy will be the one bringing him back to my office though?
Sy: Alright then, how about I make you some dinner at my place? Say tomorrow at 5pm?
Mills’ Future Mama: Make it 5:30 and I’ll be there. Just know I’ll be sending your information to my best friend in case you try and murder me.
Sy: What type of people were you surrounded by in Alabama? 🤨
Mills’ Future Mama: I was actually in a super safe town. Just watch too many crime shows to make careless mistakes.
Sy: Smart lady. You can tell whoever you want, darlin’. I’ve got nothing to hide and I appreciate a woman who has some self-preservation skills.
Mills’ Future Mama: Trust me, I’m very skilled at many things. 😜
Sy: Damn woman, I’m trying my best to be a gentleman here. It’s not fair to tease me.
Mills’ Future Mama: Not teasing. Just stating facts. 🙃
Sy: Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough. Here’s my address. Any food allergies?
Mills’ Future Mama: Nope! I’ll bring dessert. I’m interested to test your cooking prowess.
Sy: You’re killing me.
Mills’ Future Mama: See you tomorrow!
Part 2
Taglist: @shellyshellshell @henryownsme @caramariehurst @beck07990 @mollymal
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winchesterwild78 · 2 months
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Behind the Scenes pt 8
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Master List 
Minors DNI 18+
Warnings: fluff, quick moment of Smut (I mean come on, it is a wedding.), then more sweetness
A/N: The wedding is here! Please enjoy this last chapter. This is a work of fiction. No disrespect to Jensen or Jared or their families. *kinda a long chapter, with a slight time jump*
I edited this fast- please forgive any mistakes 
This is my original work, do not take it. 
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*Time Jump 9 months*
“Jens, can you get Tristan ready? I need to take a quick shower before we head out.” You called from the bedroom. Jensen walked into Tristan’s nursery and looked at his 9 month old son. Tristan sat up in his crib and held his arms up “daadaa”. Tristan looked at Jensen and smiled. “Hey little man. How was your nap?” Tristan babbled as Jensen picked him up. 
Jensen walked him over to the changing table and started to change him. “We’ve gotta get you looking handsome. Mommy and Daddy are getting married tomorrow so tonight we get to see Nana, Poppop, Grammy and Pawpaw and the rest of the family. Uncle Jared and Aunt Gen will be there too.”  Jensen continued talking as he got Tristan ready. 
You finished getting ready and walked past the nursery and stopped to watch Jensen. These past 9 months have been incredible, Jensen and you were in awe of how fast Tristan was growing, the two of you planned your wedding and you had both gone back to work on the show. 
You were thankful you were able to take Tristan with you and he was even featured in a few episodes as Lilah’s and Sam’s son. The studio was incredible and so accommodating. Your wedding came in the middle of the shooting schedule, but there was a planned week break starting two days before the wedding. Misha had taken an online class to become ordained so he could perform your ceremony. Everything was falling into place.
Jensen, Tristan and you arrived at the ceremony location to do the rehearsal. Misha pulled you aside to talk to you about a surprise you two had been working on for Jensen. “Hey, Y/N, just wanted to let you know everything is good to go.” You smiled and thanked him. 
Jensen’s brother and Jared were going to be standing with him for the ceremony. You had asked your best friend, Y/F/N, and Gen to stand up with you. 
Jared and Gen’s oldest, Tom, was asked to help Tristan down the aisle in his wagon. He loved the idea. The other two, Shep and Odette were in the wedding too. 
You stood at the end of the aisle waiting for your cue. You walked towards Jensen and the rehearsal continued. Misha talked about some of the things he was going to say tomorrow and what to expect.
 Once the rehearsal was done everyone gathered for some food and fun. Tristan was getting fussy so you took him outside for some air. Jensen followed you out. “Hey, Y/N, is everything okay with him?” “Yeah, I think he’s just partied out. Too much excitement for one day.” You smiled and kissed Tristan’s head. Jensen wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. “I’ll let Mom know, I know she’s probably getting tired too.” You smiled and nodded.
Jensen’s parents were taking Tristan for the next two nights, so you can rest before tomorrow and you and Jensen can have time alone on your wedding night. You were incredibly thankful for them. 
A few minutes later Jensen’s parents came out with him to get Tristan. You kissed him goodnight and hugged your in-laws. When they were gone you stayed outside for a few more minutes with Jensen. He was standing behind you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. 
“Whatcha thinking about sweetheart?” “Just this past year. It’s been a crazy, wonderful ride. I got an awesome job, met an incredible man, had his baby, and now we are getting married. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up from a dream.” You looked over your shoulder and smiled at him. “I’m glad it isn’t a dream. I love you and Tristan so much. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
He kissed your neck and led you back inside. “Are you all set to stay at Jared’s tonight?” Jensen nodded, and you pouted. “Hey, it’s only for one night.” He smiled and lifted your chin. Jensen leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. You moaned a little and he deepened the kiss. “Okay guys, break it up. Save it for the honeymoon.” Jared yelled from across the room. 
You blushed and Jensen laughed. “I love you, Y/N.” “I love you too, Jensen.” “Let me walk you to your car, sweetheart.” Jensen placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you outside. 
The air was thick with excitement and anticipation. You leaned into his chest, taking in his scent. He always smelled amazing, even after time at the gym. You breathed deeply and his large arms pulled you into a tight embrace. He kissed the top of your head. The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, just holding each other. You nor he wanted to let go. 
“Baby, I don’t want to leave, but we both need our rest. I’d hate to take pictures tomorrow and look like we haven’t slept in a year.” You slowly pulled yourself from his arms. Jensen held your hand as he walked you around to the driver’s side of your car. He opened the door and you climbed in. Jensen leaned down and into the car, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I love you so much, sweetheart. Text me when you get home.” “I love you too, Jens, and I will.”
He closed your door and you left, heading back to your empty home. When you walked inside you took out your phone and sent Jensen a text.
You: I’m home, babe. Door is locked and I’m heading to bed soon.
Jensen: I’m glad you made it home, we just got back to Jared’s house. I’m heading to bed soon too. I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow, my love.
You: I can’t wait either. I love you, Jensen Ross Ackles!!
Jensen: I love you too, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, soon to be Mrs. Ackles! ❣️
You: You’re adorable. Good night baby
Jensen: I know I am. 😀 Good night to you too.
You got ready for bed and climbed into your bed. You were exhausted but had a hard time falling asleep. You finally laid on Jensen’s pillow and were able to drift off to sleep.The sound of your phone ringing woke you up early the next morning. It was Gen. 
“Hello” you said sleepily. “Hey! Are you up?” Gen gleefully asked. “I am now.” You yawned. “Girl, I'll be there in 5 minutes to help you start getting ready. I’m so excited.” You smiled and got up. You took a look in the mirror and smiled. 
“Today is the day you finally become Mrs. Jensen Ackles.” You took a deep breath and went downstairs. Gen knocked on the door and you let her in. “Go take a shower, and I’ll make you some breakfast.” She smiled. You hugged her and went upstairs to take a shower. Before you got in the shower a text message came through.
Jensen: Good morning my beautiful bride. I’m counting the hours until we say “I do”
You: Good morning my handsome husband. I am too. I’ll be the one at the end of the aisle in the dress with the flowers.
Jensen: I can’t wait to see your dress, and then take it off of you. I missed you sleeping in my arms last night.
You: You’re bad. 😊 I missed you too. I’m jumping in the shower. I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you.
Jensen: I am too. I love you too.
You jumped in the shower letting the warm water envelop you. Once you got out you threw on some comfy clothes and went  downstairs. Gen had just finished making breakfast and coffee. You sat down and smiled, thanking her for cooking. The two of you ate and talked. “Once we finish eating we should head to the venue to start getting you ready and get your pictures taken before the ceremony.” You nodded and finished your coffee and food. 
About an hour later you and Gen were on your way to the venue. You walked in the bridal suite and saw your dress hanging and waiting for you. The people you hired to do your hair and makeup had arrived shortly after you. They were actually the hair and makeup team for Supernatural. You told them you didn’t trust anyone else to do your hair and makeup for your wedding than them. 
A few hours later you were ready and your dress was on. Standing in the bridal suite you were fidgeting nervously when there was a knock at the door. Gen walked over to answer it and it was Jared. Jared stepped in “You look beautiful, Y/N.” He pulled you in for a hug. “Jensen asked me to give you this.” He handed you a small box wrapped with a bow. You thanked him and smiled. You opened the box and it was a gold heart shaped locket. You opened it and on one side was a picture of Jensen and the other was a picture of Tristan. On the back was engraved “All Our Own”. 
You put it on and touched it. You handed Jared a small bag and told him it was for Jensen. He hugged you and left the room. Jared walked in the room where Jensen was and smiled. “She’s absolutely beautiful, man. She loved the locket and asked me to give you this.” Jared handed Jensen the bag. Jensen opened it and found a beautiful pocket watch. He opened it up and saw a picture of you holding Tristan. On the back you had engraved “All Our Own”. Jensen chuckled and showed Jared. 
Jared laughed “Great minds, huh.” “Well, it’s time to start the ceremony. Are you ready Jens?” “Yes, more than ready.” 
Jensen, Jared and Jensen’s brother walked out and down the aisle. As they walked they greeted everyone and Jensen thanked them for coming. The next surprise that you had planned was about to show up. You had Gen recording, because you wanted to see Jensen’s reaction. 
Misha walked out to stand at the front and laughter erupted in the venue. Jensen turned and started laughing his deep laugh. Misha was dressed in his Castiel costume. You and Misha had decided “The Angel of the Lord” should perform the ceremony. 
Gen walked back to you and told you Jensen and everyone loved it. You smiled and grabbed your flowers. After everyone walked down the aisle it was your turn. You took a deep breath and stepped out. Looking forward and directly at Jensen. His green eyes sparkled with tears and his face beamed as you walked closer. 
When you got to the end of the aisle you handed your bouquet to Gen, and took Jensen’s hands. He leaned over and said “You are absolutely breathtaking. I am the luckiest man alive.” He gently kissed your cheek. 
Misha performed the ceremony in Cass’ voice, and added some jokes in. At the end of the ceremony Misha said “By the power vested in me by the internet and Chuck, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jensen, you may now kiss your bride…again.” Jensen leaned you back and kissed you. As the two of you turned Misha announced “It is my pleasure to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Jensen Ackles.”
The two of you walked back up the aisle to cheers and applause. Jensen led you back to the bridal suite and shut the door. As soon as the door was shut Jensen leaned you up against it and placed a deep passionate kiss on your lips. His hands slid up the bodice of your dress and cupped your breast. You were moaning into his mouth. “God I missed you sweetheart, I can’t wait. I need you now!” Jensen growled. He reached over and locked the door. “Jensen, if you mess up my hair before our pictures our families will kill you.” You laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t”, he smirked. You clenched your thighs together at that look in his eye. 
Jensen pulled you away from the door and laid you on the couch. He lifted your dress up and slid down your panties. “I need you right now, please.” Jensen looked at you with lust filled eyes. You bit your lip and nodded. His hand disappeared under your dress, finding your sweet spot. You moaned and bucked your hips. His fingers inserted into your wetness and he made you cum so fast you didn’t have time to process what happened. 
You leaned up and kissed him and started to unbuckle his pants. He had already discarded his suit jacket. He removed his hardened length and you leaned over the couch. Jensen lifted your dress up and slid in you from behind. He bottomed out fast and you both let out a moan. His hips moved fast. His thighs slamming into the back of yours as his hands gripped your hips. 
There was a knock on the door, it was Jared. “Hey guys, we need you for pictures.” “We’re kinda busy right now, we’ll be out in a minute.” Jensen yelled back. You giggled and Jared yelled “Damn, brother, couldn’t wait?” You were too focused on Jensen to worry if Jared was still at the door. 
Jensen’s thrusts got faster and you felt him pulse as he filled you with his seed with a grunt. He pulled out and quickly grabbed a towel for you. He didn’t want anything to ruin your dress. After you were clean, he cleaned himself up. You giggled as you fixed your dress and he pulled on his pants. “God that was great, Y/N. I missed you so much!” Jensen kissed your lips and you smiled. “Come on baby, let’s go before Jared breaks down the door.” The two of you walked out of the room hand in hand. A few people looked at you and smirked, but most of them ignored you. Once pictures were done, it was time for the reception. 
During the reception, food and drink were endless and the dancing was fantastic. It was time for your and Jensen’s dance. He took you by the hand and led you to the dance floor. The song “Wanted” by Hunter Hayes played as the two of you swayed together. Jensen twirled you near the end of the song and as you came back into his arms, he dipped you kissing your lips and whispered “I’ll always love you, Mrs. Ackles, now and forever.” You placed your head on his chest and replied “And I’ll always love you, Mr. Ackles, now and forever.”
The End
Tags: @nescaveckdaily  @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter
@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles  @chriszgirl92
@suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl
@hobby27 @manicjk @stoneyggirl2 @1-read-the-hobbit-in-1937
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tallgirl14 · 1 year
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I think it would be cute if bobs/Linda's grand kids called them pawpaw and GiGi. what do you think?
This is Bryce first time sleeping Ober at his grandparents' home and and he got anxious once it got time for bed so Linda brought out snail and newt telling him how much his mom loved this book and if after reading and Brycr still wanted to go home she'd take him. But they both fell asleep
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roxygen22 · 5 months
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Still Here (Chapter 9)
Summary: Your ex calls and throws off your evening. You and Timothée make love for the first time (again), and you finally say the three little words he's been dying to hear.
C/W: Conversation with toxic ex; NSFW (oral and consensual/protected p-in-v sex, denied orgasm)
Catch up on previous chapters here.
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You walked into the town's elementary school and were immediately hit by a wave of nostalgia. It was the same one you attended, after all, though the hallways seemed much smaller (or normal, really) as an adult. Madison walked alongside you to the office to register for the upcoming school year.
"Oh, that was my classroom for 3rd grade. Ms. Hobbs was my favorite teacher. She had a knack for making stories come alive. She would decorate the classroom based on what we were reading at the time. Oh, we had SO much fun when we read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory! I found the golden ticket and got to pick a prize out of the treasure bin."
Madison barely acknowledged your story with a "uh-huh" as she looked around, nervously biting her lip.
"I figured that would get more of a reaction out of you given your current obsession with Wonka," you said as you playfully nudged her arm with your elbow.
"Huh? Oh, sorry, Mom. I'm just thinking about my old school. And my friends."
You stopped walking and gave her a hug. "I know how hard it was for me to move across the country and start at a new school, and I was an adult. Well, a teenaged adult, but still. I can only imagine how you are feeling at the moment. If you want to talk about it, I'm all ears. And I'm sure Nana, Pawpaw, and even Timothée would say the same." You squeezed her to you once more. "You're a likeable girl, Madison. You'll make new friends here. And at least you know Emerie already." She just nodded, so you kept your nostalgia as you continued to the office to finish paperwork.
Evening arrived and Timothée came to pick you up for a date. It was a fantastic feeling to have your relationship out in the open now. Your mom was even supportive despite her earlier comments about sparing his feelings. Madison was sitting outside on the porch swing reading a book when he came up the steps.
"Hey, kiddo!" you heard him say cheerily through the front door. You had heard him drive up and got up to let him in, but once you saw the two talking you wanted to give them some space.
"Hey." Madison put her book down.
"I heard you got to see your new school today. What'd you think?"
"It's...small."
Timothée laughed and sat beside her. "I'm sure it's very small compared to what you are used to."
"At least I won't have a lot of new names to memorize," she side-eyed him and smirked.
"That's one way to look at it!" He bumped her arm with his. "Alright, I'm going to go say hi to your grandparents and mom."
Timothée lightly rapped on the door as he let himself in. You slightly startled him with your presence right by the door, but he quickly regained his senses and greeted you with a kiss. As he stepped around to say hello to your parents, your phone rang. It was your ex, Michael.
"Hello?" you answered in a questioning tone.
"I'm calling to talk to Madison."
"Oh, uhh, I'm about to go out, but I can give her the phone for a few minutes while I finish getting ready."
"Go out? Like on a date?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but yes." You made frustrated eye contact with Timothée and mouthed "Michael" as you walked to your bedroom. He followed and leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed.
"It IS my business to know who is spending time with my child," he groused.
You felt your ears heat up and your lip curl. "Like you gave me the same courtesy when you started seeing Katie," you spat. "Besides, you hardly reach out to make contact with YOUR child. You can't just call on a whim and demand to talk to her after weeks of radio silence."
"Just let me talk to her."
You muted the phone and grabbed a pillow from your bed to scream into. Despite how much you just wanted to hang up on Michael, you never wanted Madison to say that you kept her away from him. You squeezed past Timothée and walked to the front porch.
"Maddy, your dad is on the phone." She looked up at you in confusion that was quickly replaced with excitement. She grabbed for the phone.
"Daddy?" You couldn't hear what he was saying on the other end, but you heard her start listing off some of the fun things she had done since moving out here. You went back inside but only closed the screen door so you could easily hear if you needed to intervene.
Timothée was sitting on the couch. "What did he want?" he asked attitudinally.
"He just randomly wanted to talk to Madison, I guess."
"Where does he come off questioning you about you personal life?" You just shrugged, unsure of where Michael's behavior was stemming from. A few minutes later, Madison came in and handed you the phone.
"Here, he wants to talk to you again."
You took the phone back and held it to your ear. "Hello?"
"Who is Timothy? Isn't he the guy who dumped you in high school? Is the dating pool in that tiny ass town so small out that you have to resort to your own leftovers?" You didn't validate his insane line of questioning with a response. "Whatever. Why is Madison around him so much? He is basically all she talked about. What kind of influence is that blue-collar, good for noth-"
"Don't you DARE talk about him like that." Your voice was dripping with venom. You jumped up from the couch and stormed out onto the porch. Your mother, upon hearing your tone, took Madison into the kitchen to keep her occupied.
"I do not owe you an explanation for how I choose to fix what you broke," you continued. "EVERYTHING I do, I think about Madison first. Can you say the same? I ran into Timothée a couple of weeks after we got back into town, and yes we reconnected. But you know what. She probably likes him because he has spent more quality time with her in the past two months than you have in the past two YEARS. HE shows an interest in her. HE checks in on her. HE puts her first in our relationship. HE treats her like a human being, and not just to get to me. Because HE is a decent human being. Next time you want to talk to Madison, coordinate a date and time first. I am no longer available to cater to your every whim." You hung up and ran down the steps to the driveway. You angrily walked over to your dad's shed and kicked the tire on the tractor.
"Careful, you could break a toe doing that."
You spun and saw Timothée standing a few paces behind you. You sighed and closed your eyes. "How much did you hear?"
"Enough to confirm that he's an asshole. Though I did enjoy hearing you sing my praises," he smirked.
You laughed wetly as hot tears poured down your face. "I'm sorry that he called right as we were about to head out the door."
"Shh, don't worry about it." Timothée pulled you into a hug and rested his chin on your head. "I know you probably don't feel like eating after getting so worked up. Would you like to come over and chill at my place instead of going out? We can pick up a pizza, snuggle on the couch, and watch a movie"
"That sounds so much better than the original plan right now."
<><><><><> (minors DNI from this point)
Timothée held the door open for you to enter his house. While you had been on the property a couple of times since returning from California, you had yet to go inside his new place. This house was not here when the two of you dated in high school, so you had no idea what the interior looked like.
"Welcome," he said. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll get us a couple of plates."
You walked to the couch and leaned against the back of it. "It's less...'bachelor pad' than I expected," you said through a laugh.
"Ah, well, I cleaned up my act once I started pushing 30." You chuckled. "Bathroom is over there," Timothée pointed, "if you need it." He walked around the counter and couch to the coffee table and grabbed the remote. "Here, why don't you find something to watch while I divvy up the pizza."
You sat down on the couch, took the remote in hand, and started scrolling through Netflix. You still hadn't decided when he sat next to you with the pizza and beer. Still feeling the nostalgia from visiting the school with Madison, you settled on 13 Going on 30. He rolled his eyes.
"What? You told me to choose. I was inspired by your earlier comment about getting your act together at 30."
"I rolled my eyes because of the number of times you made me sit through this movie in high school. Some things never change."
"It's one of my faves!"
"Well, I guess I can appreciate the plot line a little more now. Guy in his 30s eventually gets the girl he pined over as a teen."
"Awww, you're getting sentimental in your old age." You grinned.
Timothée pretended to scowl at you, then booped you on the nose. "Are you going to press play or not?"
Once the two of you finished the pizza, you set the plates aside and curled up next to him. He draped his arm around you, allowing his fingers to lazily drift up and down your arm. As the movie progressed, his hand eventually found its way to the space above your jeans where your shirt had ridden up slightly. You shivered as he grazed the bare skin on your waist. You lifted your head from his shoulder and looked up at him. He seized the opportunity to capture your lips with his.
You hungrily opened your mouth to deepen the kiss. You felt his tongue glide across yours in return. You eagerly shifted to sit in his lap. He reached around and squeezed your ass before sliding his hands under your shirt. At first he just snaked his hands underneath, but then began to pull it up. You sucked in a breath and froze, catching his hand at the hem of your shirt. He pulled back to look at your face with concern.
"Timothée, I- uh, I don't have the same body I did as a teenager."
His face relaxed and he smiled warmly. "[Y/N], you were and still are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on."
"Yeah, but..." you argued as your insecurities became more evident.
"Let me guess," he interrupted. "Stretch marks? More curves from maturing into a gorgeous woman whose awe-inspiring body has brought life into this world?"
You simply nodded. Your cheeks blushed from the attention.
Timothée pulled you tighter against his body. "Let me love those, too." He stood with your legs still wrapped around him. His hands cupped your ass to support you as he carried you to the bedroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck and clasped a hand in his hair. He placed a knee on his bed and laid you down gently.
"You okay?" he asked as he hovered over you. Your breathing shuddered, but you nodded.
"It's...it's been a while," you whispered.
"Me, too." Timothée gently grazed his lips against yours. Once. Twice. He then tugged at your shirt, and this time you made no move to stop him. He pushed himself up on his arms to take in the sight of you half-naked on his bed.
"Now, why am I more undressed than you?" you teased. You grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled. He sat up and continued to pull it over his head. You sat up on your knees to run your hand down his chest and abs, stopping at the buttons on his jeans.
Timothée grabbed your hips and sucked in a breath in anticipation of your next move. "[Y/N], I want you so badly."
"Not as much as I want you." You both stood and clumsily finished undressing each other while hungrily kissing each other. He snuck a hand between your folds as you freed one leg from your pants. You gasped, having become unaccustomed to the feeling of another's touch. Noticing the reaction, he curled his fingers and rubbed your increasingly sensitive bundle of nerves. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck to prevent your collapse.
Just as you started to feel the heat of climax in your core, Timothée pulled away. You whined at the absence of his hand. He flashed a wry smile and licked his fingers. He pressed himself against you and pulled your chin up for a kiss. Then, he backed you up against the bed so your knees buckled, forcing you to lay back. He separated your legs with his body and dipped down onto his knees. You knew what was about to happen, but you were still not prepared for the overwhelming sensation of his warm tongue separating your folds. You involuntarily bucked up into his face. In return, his hands snaked to your hips to pin them down. You moaned and struggled against his grip as the coil inside your belly tightened and tightened. But yet again, he stopped before you could reach your climax.
Timothée reached for the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a condom. Once sheathed, he picked you up and pulled you further back onto the bed. He hovered briefly, staring into your eyes. "I never thought I would get to have this - have you - again."
"Take me," you breathed. "Please. I'm yours." Maintaining eye contact, he lined himself up and gently pushed in until he filled you completely. You both stilled, reveling in the closeness and allowing you a moment to adjust and accommodate his length. He began to work his hips, rutting up against you. The coil inside you quickly constricted again when he reached between you to rub your sensitive bud until you were finally overcome. Your walls clenched around him as you clung to him with all of your limbs, gasping his name.
After you caught your breath, you cupped his face in your hands and guided him down to kiss you. He continued to slowly grind against you, trying to postpone its inevitable end. You loosened your grip so he could pull back and gaze into your eyes.
"Timothée, I love you," you whispered as you stared into his emerald orbs.
He came undone at your confession.
<><><><><>
Chapter 10
Masterlist
Tag List:
@croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie
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cookies-over-yonder · 3 months
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after-effects
During the ten-mile hike through the forest to the Crick, Beverly's legs won't stop hurting.
ao3
p.s. i'm only on tales of the crick so no spoilies please
Beverly lays flat on his back, staring at where he knows Erlin's picture is on the wall.
It's been an hour. Or maybe two.
And he can't fall asleep.
The unbearable pain in his legs is keeping him awake.
But he was healed, and his legs are fine, so they shouldn't hurt so bad. It doesn't make any sense.
Maybe it's a growth spurt?
A really painful one at that.
Bev cringes, and then sighs, letting a few tears fall.
He misses his home.
And his mom. And his dad. And Erlin.
At least there's finally a chance to rest, and tomorrow they'll be at the Crick.
So he just hums a song to himself until he finally falls asleep.
-
"Ten miles!?" Beverly asks Ol' Cobb.
"Yep, just a short ten miles then we'll be at the Crick," he answers.
"Ooh, this is the perfect time for me to tell y'all the story of the Crick!" Moonshine chimes in as they start to walk.
Beverly's legs hurt less than last night, but it's still a constant ache. And he doesn't feel any taller.
Moonshine starts to tell the story, something about two cousins falling in love...? And Pawpaw interrupts her to start whining at Bev.
"Pawpaw, I'm tryna tell a story here, where are your manners?" Beverly hears, his eyes fixed on the ground as he fights to catch his breath. They just started the hike, why is he so tired?
Moonshine continues her story, though Beverly isn't really listening as much as he'd like to, with the majority of his mind focused on the pain in his legs. It's a throbbing pain, not as sharp as when he fell, but still, it's severe enough to be distracting.
"Beverly?" he hears, distant.
Bev looks up and sees the others a little ways ahead of him.
"Sorry, didn't... didn't mean to... to fall behind," he says between breaths, jogging to catch up to them.
... Jogging was a bad idea. It's evident when the pain starts to get even worse with each step, making him feel nauseous, and probably look it too, considering the hand on his shoulder.
"Young Bev, you okay?" Moonshine asks.
"Yeah, just—the fish probably just didn't sit right, I'm okay, Moonshine. Let's, let's keep going."
And they do keep going, and Beverly tries his best to ignore the sets of worried eyes on him, and he tries to ignore the way he feels like his legs might give in any second. 
After what feels like five hours, but what was most likely just one, everyone decides to take a break.
Beverly sits down with his back against a tree and shuts his eyes, fighting to catch his breath.
"You sure you're okay?" Hardwon asks, and Beverly knows it's not meant to be patronizing, it really does make him feel like a little kid.
"I'm fine, just a little tired," Beverly says, trying and failing to not scrunch his face up at the throbbing pain in both his legs.
"Alright," Hardwon says, and Beverly feels him still sitting there beside him, so he lets his head fall against Hardwon's arm, and his breathing slow.
-
Beverly wakes up from Pawpaw licking his face, and he finds himself laying in Hardwon's lap.
"Mm, is break time over?" Beverly asks, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.
"Yeah," Hardwon says. "You were out for like ten minutes."
Beverly stands up, and Hardwon immediately catches him when his legs give in, causing him to yelp.
"Are you okay to walk?"
"Yeah," Beverly says, cringing at his leg pain, "you can put me down now."
Hardwon does, and they all continue to walk, Moonshine with a hand on Beverly's back.
The fastest Beverly tries to walk is still slower than average despite his best efforts, and every few minutes, he doubles over, balancing with his hands on his knees in an effort to catch his breath.
"I can carry you, Bev," Hardwon says at the second hour when Bev's been standing still on trembling, excruciatingly aching legs and panting for about ten minutes.
Bev tries to speak, but the pain is so bad, all that comes out is a squeak, so he shakes his head instead.
He takes in a deep breath in, and out, and stands up straight, shooting Hardwon a forced smile.
"I'm okay. The... the exercise is good for me."
Hardwon exchanges a look with Moonshine and Ol' Cobb. Beverly tries to ignore it, but he can tell they're talking about him via rapport spores.
"I'm fine, guys! We're not even halfway there yet, let's go!"
Beverly starts to jog through the forest, and immediately regrets it when his body continues telling him to stop, before forcefully stopping him, causing him to collapse onto the ground, getting a mouthful of dirt and a face scratched up with twigs.
He lifts himself up with his arms and spits out the dirt, and when he tries to shift into a kneeling position before standing, he can't.
...he can't.
Beverly can't move his legs.
It doesn't make sense. They're not broken, he got a full night of sleep, he's been healed, he should be fine.
But they hurt so fucking bad, and he can't move.
He fights to catch his breath, and he can't, and his eyes blur with tears, and there's chatter around him but he can't quite parse the words of it, and fuck, this is just like when he fell from the tower.
And he's being moved, and propped up against a tree, and his pant legs are being rolled up, and he can't breathe, and he can't stop sobbing.
"I can't see any injuries," he hears.
"I—I'm... I'm... no—not injured," Beverly says between gasps and sobs.
Though with the way he can't move the lower half of his body from how badly it hurts, he isn't too sure.
There's more chatter that Bev can't quite parse, and he puts his hand in his mouth and bites hard. 
It hurts so bad.
It hurts so bad, and he can't stop sobbing, and he can't breathe.
There's hands on his face. 
"Young Bev, hey, we need you to take some deep breaths for us," Moonshine says.
Beverly tries to speak, but it comes out muffled.
He takes his hand out of his mouth.
"Sorry. My legs hurt so bad. Sorry, I'm sorry, fuck."
Beverly hears the words "broken legs" and "panic attack" and before he can try to connect the dots Moonshine is talking to him again.
"Beverly, can you hear me, hon?"
Bev nods, and he feels big hands grasping his own. Hardwon.
"I—I can't, I—I—I, ah, I, I—"
Beverly realizes that the only words he can get out are "I" and "can't," so he decides to stop talking altogether. Hardwon squeezes his hands, and Moonshine tells him to breathe with her. She breathes in, and with eyes shut, he tries to follow along, sucking in a quick breath, and letting it out in a sigh.
They do it again, this time Hardwon joining in with an exaggerated breath and a squeeze of Bev's hands to the rhythm of it.
Beverly opens his eyes, and he's greeted with the concerned gazes of Moonshine and Hardwon right in front of him, still breathing deeply for him to follow along.
"I," Beverly starts, breathing in, and out, "I'm not injured," he says, his voice raspy and weak. "Suh—sorry, I—don't know what just happened."
"You've been acting off all day, young Beverly," Moonshine says, running a hand through his hair.
"I'm just... I'm just a little sore. That's all."
"I don't know, man, you fell and then immediately started crying and hyperventilating," Hardwon says.
"I thought I broke my legs again," Beverly finds himself saying, quiet and shy. "Sorry, it's—that's stupid, we—we should keep going."
"It ain't stupid to feel scared," Ol' Cobb chimes in.
"That's right," Moonshine says. "Young Bev, we can get your legs checked out at the Crick if you'd like."
"That's okay, Moonshine, I—I'm—I think I'm fine."
"Can I at least carry you the rest of the way?" Hardwon asks, and Beverly nods.
Hardwon scoops him up bridal-style, and Beverly bites his lower lip in an effort to distract from the pain in his legs.
"Here, drink up," Moonshine says, and Beverly opens his eyes expecting to be met with a mouthful of Crick water, but she's holding up a healing potion.
Beverly downs it, waits a moment, and feels no effect.
"You feeling any better?" she asks.
"Uh... yeah. Thanks, Moonshine."
Beverly curls in on himself a little, and buries his face in Hardwon's torso, and passes out immediately.
When he wakes up, they're only a few minutes away from the Crick, and Bev's legs feel the slightest bit better, though still incredibly weak.
"How are you feeling?" Hardwon asks.
Beverly whines in response despite himself. He tries to move his legs, and he manages to wiggle them a little. "Yeah," he croaks out.
"Yeah?"
"I mean—I—I'm okay," Beverly corrects himself, "You can put me down."
Hardwon sets Beverly down slowly, keeping a hand on his shoulder. As they hike the final stretch, Beverly keeps his gaze fixed on his feet, one step after the other, and ignoring the concern floating around the adults accompanying him.
But the greater restoration fixed his legs, good as new, so there's really nothing to be concerned about.
The constant ache in them is something entirely unimportant, and Beverly is perfectly fine.
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Evermore: Part. 2: Chapter. One
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A/N: And here we are! The second half of this series! I just wanted to give a quick shout-out to everyone who has loved and reblogged this story! I truly love it! SO thank you so much!
I also wanted to thank @hollybee8917 for this beautiful mood board and for editing this chapter! Thank you babe!
A cold winter morning as you drove down this familiar route. Looking outside always reminds you of a snow globe. You peeked behind you to see your baby girl in her car seat, humming to the song in the car.  
“Chloe bug, do you know where we are going?” You asked. You saw as she placed her little index finger on her chin and giggled.  
“Papa?” Chloe askedwith excitement. You smiled as you turned into the Massachusetts National Cemetery.  You found the section and parked on the side.  You then got out of the car and went back, to get Chloe out of her seat. You told her to stay by your side as you grabbed the flowers from the passenger seat.  
“Come on, hold onto mommy’s hand.” You say and Chloe reaches for your hand. 
You then proceeded to walk toward the middle of the cemetery. It took a few minutes and you pause in the middle of the large headstone.  
Ari David Levinson 
June 14, 1981- April 16th, 2023 
Captain US Army, West Point 
Beloved Son, Husband, and Father 
You then bent down to your daughter and handed her the bouquet. Her little hands held on to them and she looked toward you.  
“Momma is for Papa?” She asked. 
You smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. “Yes, baby. Papa always gave me flowers too. He would love it; would you like to give it to him?”
Chloe smiled. With her tiny hands, she held onto him and placed them down next to him.  
“Hi Papa, Mommy says you like flowers. I went to the zoo yesterday! I see lots of animals! Ands Uncles DeeDee calls! He says I get smart!” Chloe said as she placed the flowers down. 
** 
It's been 5 years since Ari left you and this world. Those 5 years were the hardest that you went through. Even if you had your friends, coworkers, and families. It just wasn’t the same. You did your best, going on with your life. Andy hasn’t returned, but he kept in touch with you every day or when he got the chance.  
You even went on dates, nothing special. You didn’t want to move on, but you knew that Ari wanted to live your life. Explore, see places, and just be happy. That’s all that he wanted from you.  
Chloe learned how to walk when she was a year and a half. It was caught on camera while face timing Andy and even learning mama and Papa, Grammy, and Pawpaw.  
You bent down and placed your hand on his gravestone and placed your head down. Even though it’s been long, you still feel his presence.  
“Oh, Ari Bear.” You said and kissed the top. 
You felt your tears fall, and you felt Chloe wipe them away with her tiny hands. You smiled and turned towards her. 
“Mommy don’t cry. Papa no want you sad. Papa makes you happy right?” 
Chloe said and turned towards her. You smiled and placed a hand on her cheek.  
“Yes, Papa made me very happy. Did Grammy or Pawpaw tell you that?” You asked. 
With pride, Chloe nodded, “Yup! And Pawpaw saids that he’s a big hero!” 
More tears slipped down your cheeks and you hugged your daughter.   
“Yes, baby bug. Your Papa was a hero. Now come on, Grammy and Pawpaw are waiting for us!” You said, getting up.  
“Bye Papa! I wue you!” You heard Chloe say. 
You laughed and let out a sigh, “Love you Mr. Levinson. I’ll see you next week.” 
You said, kissing his headstone one last time, taking your daughter's hand, and headed back down to your car.  
** 
Boston Logan International Airport 
After a long 8-hour flight from Germany newly promoted General Andy Barber entered US soil, after living in Frankfurt for 5 years. He meant to come home, but from the cases he took, it took longer than he expected.  But now that it is all over, he is happy to be home. But what drove him to come back was a letter that he received over 5 years ago, but only really had the heart to open it 4 months ago.  
4 months ago… 
Andy was in the process of closing a case with his team when a box he was looking through fell on the ground, and its contents spilled. Cursing, he bent down and began to pick them up. But as he did, he saw the familiar handwriting and he knew who it was from. He tried to put it to the side, but something in him had told him to now open it.  
He excused himself from his team and headed outside to his balcony. He closed the door behind him and stared at the envelope. He studied the familiar writing and how he writes in all caps. He took a seat for a moment, to collect his thoughts. 
Andy didn’t know why; he was afraid or feeling sad. Taking one last sigh, Andy began to slowly open the flaps.   
There were bits of sand inside meaning that he was in the desert as he wrote this. Andy placed the envelope down. And he opened the letter.  
Dear Lieutenant General Andrew Steven Barber,  
Wow, that sounds very professional. Anyways, I feel like I’m doing this the old-fashioned way, but this would be the best way. Before I end this letter Andy, I’m writing this before I call Y/N and I’m about to leave on a high-stakes mission.  
This mission is extremely dangerous, and there is a VERY slim chance that I would survive. It hurts to think about it, but this is what I signed up to do. I can’t give you All the information, because you know the rules. The reason I’m writing this to you is that I have something to ask of you.  
What I’m asking is to take care of my angel and my little munchkin. They mean the world to me, and you know that. I know that Y/N would be sad if I didn’t make home to her and Chloe. We took care of each other, but I have a feeling that I won’t make it. I know I’m hurting you and my family. But I know that it will be okay.  
All I ask, once again, is to take care of her. Be there for her, and just be the friend that you have always been. If you fall for her? Then I’m not stopping you, dude. But if you break her heart, then I’ll seriously punch you in your sleep.  
I’m sorry that it’s going to be this way, I’m sad that I won’t be able to see my baby girl grow up to be a wonderful sassy girl, and I’m heartbroken that I won’t be able to live for the rest of my life with my beautiful Y/N.  
Oh, and to see you grow old, Lieutenant General Andy Barber. Don’t fuck anything up sir. OKAY! 
I got to go. I need to make that phone call to my wife.  
Your best friend since 1st grade,  
Captain Ari David Levinson.  
Andy placed the letter back into its envelope and kept it close to him. He just wanted to pack up and go back home. But he can’t, not right at this moment. As he went back in, his friend Joanne looked up towards him and gave him a concerned look. He tried to brush it off, as he sat back down. But of course, she wouldn’t let it pass by.  
“Andy, what’s wrong?” Joanne asked him. Again, Andy brushed it off, and proceeded to go on. Joanne looked at Andy and sighed.  
“Andy Barber, I know you. What’s wrong?” Joanne asked once more. Andy sighed and placed the envelope down. 
“I finally opened it.” Andy said, rubbing his eyes.  
“Oh, that one. How are you feeling?” Joanne asked. Andy laid his head into his hands.  
“Home, I need to get back home,” Andy said.  
** 
Andy was asked to take over the Washington DC office, but he politely declined and asked to take over the office in Boston and it’s close to home for him. As he walked out of the terminal, Y/N’s cousin pulled up and parked to the side. Andy smiled and hugged him. 
“Welcome home bro!” Mark said. Andy let go and patted him on his back and then placed his luggage into the back seat. He got in and Mark drove off.  
“My mom called and Y/N just pulled up.” Andy smiled and let out a giggle. 
“She has no clue does she?” Andy asked and Mark chuckled as he drove onto the highway.  
“No clue at all. It’s why Ari was good at hiding surprises from her.” Mark said, smiling, making Andy laugh even more. 
It wasn’t long before Mark pulled up into Y/N's family home. He told Andy to stay outside the door so he could make sure that you were busy. Andy leaned back against the wall and Mark went inside the house. A few minutes later, the door opened, and Mark gave him the clear.  
Once he walked in, Andy could hear her laughter from the kitchen. That familiar laugh that always brought Ari and him such joy. Especially Ari. It was too long, and the nerves were getting to him, but he quickly brushed them away, letting out a breath, and made his way in. As he made his way in, your mom looked up and he quickly hushed her. Your mom just winked and continued the conversation with the others around her. It was then Andy who gave Mark a signal and he nodded.  
“You know Y/N I got a surprise for you,” Mark said. 
You tilted your head and asked, “What?” 
Your cousin smirked, “Close your eyes and turn around three times.” 
“I’m not doing that, the last time you did that…a fucking spider was involved! Just tell me.” 
Mark laughed, “Just close your eyes.” 
“Fine,” you huffed, “but it better not be anything disgusting.” 
Mark grew quiet and Andy stepped into the spot he previously occupied and spoke, “It’s not.” 
You were confused, “Mark, what happened to your voice? That sounded like-” 
Y/N opened her eyes and they widened, “ANDY!” 
You yelled as you turned around to face your best friend. You stared at Andy for a moment, thinking that it was a dream. The last time you saw him was 5 years ago. FaceTime doesn’t count. You kept thinking to yourself that it was all a dream and that you would wake up, and he was not there in front of you.  
“Y/N?” Andy asked, laughing.  
“NO, this isn’t. No, I can't-” you stuttered, trying to comprehend what is going on.  
“Y/N, it’s true,” Andy said, smiling at you. 
And that’s what gave it away. That genuine smile that he’s known for. The smile that brings joy to you.  
“Oh my god- “You yelled and jumped onto him. Andy caught you and you held onto him tight. You felt your tears, as Andy held onto you.  
“I can’t believe you are here.” You said, jumping off him and giving him a look over. He still looks the same, apart from having a thick beard.  
“Christ, Andy!” You said, giving him a friendly shove. 
Andy laughed and you hugged him once more.  
“Are you here for good? No leaving for long periods?” You asked with hope.  
“No, I’m here for good this time,” Andy told you.  
“You know who else would be happy to see you?” You asked. 
Andy knew and smiled. You then took his hand and dragged him outside, where Chloe was with her cousins playing. You then spotted her at the mini playground playing in the sand. You then turned to Andy and smiled. 
“Stay here and I’ll bring her to you.” You said and walked over to the playground.  
“Chloe!” You yelled for her, as you got there. Chloe then sat up from the sand, and who was covered in moist dusty dirt. You laughed and bent down to her as she ran to you.  
“Mommy! I made a pretty castle!” Chloe proclaimed with excitement. You smiled and cleaned off the sand off her hair, hands, and her dress.  
“That’s an amazing baby! But there’s something that I need to tell you.” You said tucking strands of her hair behind her ear.  
“Okay. Are you okay mommy?” Chloe asked, with concern. 
You smiled again and marveled at how much your daughter takes after Ari. Always concerned, always knows if something is wrong. But this time, there wasn’t anything wrong. 
“Mommy is okay, baby. But there is something that I need to tell you. You remember Uncle Andy, right? Papa’s best friend?” You asked. 
Her little green eyes lit up and she smiled. 
“Umcle DeeDee?” Chloe asked and you laughed. 
“Yes, baby.” You replied. 
You placed her in front of you and pointed straight ahead. Chloe's eyes widened and ran towards Andy. 
“Umcle DeeDee!” Chloe shouted running towards Andy. 
Andy smiled and scooped her into his arms.  
“Oh, my Chloe!” Andy said as he held on to her. 
Chloe wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, and she burst into tears. Andy hugged her softly and rubbed her back, “Chloe, what’s wrong?” 
She lifted her head and wiped her tears, and started to hiccup from crying, “Umcle you went away. Please don’t go away?” 
Andy wiped away her tears and kissed her cheek. You then stood by his side as your daughter cried.  
“Don’t worry, Chloe bug. Uncle Andy isn’t leaving. I’ll be here forever,” Andy whispered and Chloe looked at him again. 
You wiped away her tears and tucked some of her hair behind her ears. 
“You prowmis?” Chloe asked, still hiccupping. 
Andy smiled and kissed her cheek again, “I promise Chloe Bug. Uncle Andy isn’t leaving anymore.” 
Andy put her down. You and Andy watched as she ran back to the playground and continued with her sandcastle. 
** 
It was late in the night when you arrived home. Andy went home with you so that you wouldn’t have to drive home by yourself. Even if you have done so before. Chloe fell asleep in the back the moment you buckled her in her car seat. The drive home was spent in a comfortable silence. Except for the music playing in the background. As Andy pulled up, you got out and took your sleeping daughter into your arms.  
“Andy, I’m going to put her to bed, and I’ll show you your bedroom.” You said, heading towards the front doorway. As you opened the door, you headed upstairs and went to Chloe's bedroom. With her moaning in protest, you laughed as you placed her in her Hello Kitty tee-shirt and her pink Pj pants.  
Normally, you would read her a story before bed, but it was late, and your daughter was tired. So you tucked her in and kissed her forehead. 
“Good night baby. Sleep tight, Mommy loves you and Papa too.” You said and sat up. 
As you did, you looked at her nightstand to see a picture of Ari in his combat uniform and with his dog tags hanging on the edge of the frame. You smiled and headed out of her bedroom. Once you closed the door, you headed back downstairs and saw the kitchen lights on. You headed towards there, to see that he had a glass of water in his hands.  
“I hope you don’t mind,” Andy said, feeling rather embarrassed. 
You giggled and leaned against the island table. 
“Oh Andy, you should know you can take anything. Your family.” 
Andy laughed, “I know, but you know I just had to ask anyway.” 
He chugged down the rest of the water. He placed the glass into the sink, and you went to show him his room. With his luggage in his hands, Andy followed you and led him down the hallway.  
“Looks like nothing has changed,” Andy said. 
You sighed and opened the door at the end of the hallway. You turned on the lights and Andy walked in. You were about to show him where the towels and other things were, but Andy had beaten you to it.  
“Y/N, I know where the towels are. Unless you put them in another place.” Andy said. 
Again, you laughed. “Sorry Andy, it's just been a long time since I had company here.”  
Silence filled in and you cleared your throat. It was then you suddenly remembered something, and you knew that your neighbor and your parents were going to be busy.  
“Andy, I know that you just got here. But I was just wondering if you could watch Chloe tomorrow night?” You asked. Andy looked up from where he was sitting on the bed.  
“Uh, sure. Was there a reason?” Andy asked. 
You felt your cheeks blush and you sighed, “Yea, I um-I have a date with someone.”
Andy looked at you for a moment and raised an eyebrow.  
“A date? Do I know this person?” Andy asked and you sighed.  
“No, but he is from the Army. He’s a sergeant general.” You spoke and Andy continued to look at you.  
“His name is Jake Jensen.” You spoke. Andy sat up and placed his hands on his hips. 
“What is it with you and the army men?” Andy asked and you laughed.  
“Hey, shut up, okay? I met him at a party that one of my coworkers held, okay? It’s just a date Andy, nothing too serious. I’m not ready for that commitment,” you said. Andy sighed and pulled you into a hug. 
“I know, idiot, and I want you to be happy and I can see that.” 
You smiled and held Andy tight, “I know and I thank you for that. So can you watch Chloe?” You asked. Andy laughed, pulled away from you and looked down at you.  
“Yes, I can. It gives me the chance to catch up with her and to spoil her too!” Andy said. 
You laughed and playfully pushed him, “God, you are the worst.” 
You walked out of the bedroom.  
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rederiswrites · 3 months
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If you're wondering what we ARE going to do about all that poison ivy, and the general absolute shittiness of our fields, and for that matter what the fuck two people with no farming background and like...more than full-time work already are going to do with like sixteen acres of field anyway....we don't know.
Don't get me wrong, we have a lot of ideas. Most of which we either can't currently afford or for some other reason can't achieve. But some of which are lovely.
Rotational grazing, especially the high-density, frequently moved version sometimes known as "mob grazing", would eventually fix a lot of what's wrong with those fields. But not without way more animals than we have or even intend to have. We don't even have a "mob" TO graze. The sheep will eat some poison ivy, though it's not their favorite. They'll eat the leaves off the brambles, which is a pretty effective way to deplete the plant's stores and stunt it. They won't eat the Virginia Creeper.
But in a way, it doesn't matter, because we've spent nearly the entire last year moving the ewes through the smaller of the two fields, and they're only just getting back to where they started. In order to make a serious impact, they'd need to be grazing the same spot maybe every two months, depending on weather conditions. Not once a year. As I showed in a previous video, everywhere they go, they do visibly leave nitrogen, and we can actually see a slight improvement everywhere they've passed through. But it's not fast. And getting and caring for the...I don't know, fifty or so? sheep that would speed the process would make moving and caring for those sheep a full-time job neither of us has the capacity for. It's just not even an intention of ours. We've never really discussed a "cap", but I'd say that a "someday when we have real fencing and I'm healthy" number of sheep would still be twenty or thirty at the most.
The conventional, and arguable still best, way to fix the big field and its extreme fuckery would be to till and reseed. It would, believe it or not, still not eliminate all of the problem weeds, especially not the Virginia Creeper and Canada Thistle (which loves to grow back from root fragments and is resistant to normal herbicides). But it would be a huge start. We'd seed with a pasture mix that's full of plants that can handle being grazed down, and then mow where the sheep don't get to. I don't even know what it would cost to hire out all that work or rent the tools, but it's more than we have. It's like asking what it would cost to replace the siding on your house. I don't know, but I know I aint got it.
So for now, Jacob is spending a lot of hours just mowing. Mowing doesn't do as much as grazing, notably it doesn't leave nitrogen, but it does ensure that light is hitting the soil so that seeds there can sprout, and it does give the advantage to plants adapted for grazing (mainly grasses).
Eventually, the plan is to reforest several acres of the big field, using government programs. That also comes with the need to control understory growth for years until the trees mature enough to shade things out, but actually, help with that is part of some of the programs. They typically plant with a mix of natives--oak, tulip poplar, redbud...the mix varies based on what the contracted companies grew that year, apparently, but it's not really something you get to pick and choose. They come, they calculate their grid, they plant. But I don't think anything's to stop you coming through afterwards and planting your own selections in spots where saplings inevitably die. Pawpaw, white oak, American persimmon, hybrid chestnut... I dream of a day where we have maybe ten acres of forest, where I can harvest mushrooms and chestnuts, paw paws and berries and ginseng. Where the boy can bag us a wild turkey for holiday dinner or supplement the freezer with deer that got fat on fall acorns.
In my wildest fantasies (and, to be fair, what I have now was once my wildest fantasies!), the "small" field is an intercropped quilt of coppiced willow and locust, berry bushes, broad stripes of sorghum, amaranth, corn, and wheat for people and animals, strips of wildflower meadow to make corridors for animals and beneficial insects, and large patches of medicinal herbs and dye plants. The "north" field, the one that is so especially troubled now, is part forest, part pasture, with permanent perimeter fences, a loose scattering of trees that provide shade and fodder, and sheep being guided through the larger perimeter with portable electric mesh fencing.
So that's what we (very sarcastically) refer to as the "five year plan" here. But I'm trying to learn not to hamstring us with doubt and disbelief, so....that's the plan.
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hey henry i was going through ur circus au tag and i was wondering do u have any lore for this specific au??? im VERY curious i really like the designs esp mingus and norm (worlds most predictable phrase) :-)
HII MICH :-) smile! my circus au started as "lol wouldnt it be funny if cowboys instead of clowns were a separate species & went extinct". & now it makes me sick
ITS NOT EVENthat much different than the canon story ingame!!!! its just flashier & showy-er & LOUD. mingus demands attention, especially. her being a lioness does in fact mean callum had a pet lion. Alot wrong with him
she had callums ringleader outfit retailored to fit her, fun fact! (shes VERY large, almost scraping 7ft). its different cloth though & the gold studs had to be replaced & coattails needed lengthening & etc... so maybe it really isnt the same
(GINGIs made up of the same cloth as callum, however! the original CIRCUS tent, with polka dots and all !!! and who am i to argue that callum didnt embody the entire city of dialtown?) (mingus is very mad about this fact & actively denounces it)
rather than living on the outskirts of town, norm was found as a lone ranger out in the open prairies of Wisconsin (i cant elaborate here. thats another rant & theres too many parenthesis already) . instead of being immediately executed As is normal procedure, mingus recognizes him as a fragment of history & essentially forces him to join the ragtag rundown circus she runs
since dialtown is already a group of misfits, not many of the cast oogled at the new rodeo clown (it was a HUGE fight on what he'd "star as", & mingus finally relented to him keeping the cowboy hat & paper bag) (if he acts up she threatens to categorize him as a "freak show" and shred his bag)
mingus doesnt treat him as a thing with feelings alot of the time & moreso a thing to help get her pawpaw back. since right now hes. kind of a statue. shes opened up & put back together his head so many times & had to repair him & ward off rust so often that now ALL of his head is golden. not patchworked, but rather, polished
the city is only KNOWN as a city & NOT a travelling circus anymore is because of this, actually. its too much work to transport callum around in the state he is. so mingus dug her heels in & hammered in the tent poles hard. immovable force. not going anywhere til she can step down & let her pawpaw lead again
he was objectively better at it, anyhow. she knows this but WILL bite you if you say it to her face. callum was a magician too, after all! had tricks up his sleeve. much sneakier when hes pulling strings behind the curtains. he had his "assistant" too (aka the other half of the entire show) , which mingus TRIES to replicate, which... i love tango, but nobody can compare to marla
all of this is very upsetting to norm. everything about it, really. worst anyones ever done it. however hes just as stubborn as mingus and will NOT be used as a tool! (thats the ONLY reason, trust) (theres totally nothing about how he'd rather idolize crown in his mind & is a little terrified of whatd happen if he came back & saw the state of everything)
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My Garden Flowers Part 9
All photos mine.
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In order of appearance:
241. Wild Yam (Dioscorea villosa) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
242. Nodding Wakerobin (Trillium flexipes) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
243. Moss campion (Silene acaulis) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
244. Great White Trillium (Trillium grandiflora) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
245. Yellow Wood-Sorrel (Oxalis stricta) Small yellow flowers. You often find them growing as weeds, but they're native at least to the northern USA bordering southern Ontario. The leaves, flowers, and fruits are a very lovely snack, with a tart refreshing flavour.
246. Horseweed (Erigeron canadensis) A fairly common garden weed, but native so she can stay where she pops up from time to time. Not pictured as I haven't got pictures.
247. Stiff Goldenrod (Oligoneuron rigida) Not pictured as I haven't got pictures yet.
248. Fourflower Loosestrife (Lysimachia quadriflora) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
249. Smallflower Forgetmenot (Myosotis laxa) At least I think. Her flowers are certainly much smaller than the European pink and blue species I see around. Not sure what else she'd be.
250. Bearberry (Arctostaphylos uva-ursi) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
251. Tall Meadow-Rue (Thalictrum pubescens) Yet more lacy white flowers! I imagine if you preferred white you could have a full native garden of such.
252. Northern Bog Violet (Viola nephrophylla) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
253. Wool Grass (Scirpus cyperinus) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
254. Prairie Milkweed (Asclepias sullivantii) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
255. Square-Stemmed Monkeyflower (Mimulus ringens) More leggy than her yellow cousin, but still very attractive flowers that look a lot like snapdragons. She needs things moist.
256. Pawpaw (Asimina triloba) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
257. Meadow Sundrops (Oenothera pilosella) Not quite as intensely yellow as her cousins, Oenothera biennis and Oenothera fruticosa, but still very bright.
258. Wood Lily (Lilium philadelphicum) We don't have a ton of red or orange flowers native here as compared to yellow, white, or pink/purple flowers, so each one is a treat.
259. Virginia Waterleaf (Hydrophyllum virginianum) Yet more lacy white flowers! Not complaining, though, I think they're lovely in the garden. You find these growing in shaded woods.
260. Woodland Strawberry (Fragaria vesca) Unlike her cousin in the front, this one produces lots of berries...but they're white! That's not usual for the species but not unheard of. It's kind of fun to pick little white strawberries each year from that patch.
261. Pickerelweed (Pontederia cordata) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
262. Bog Rosemary (Andromeda polifolia) This is a cultivar. I will have the wild type one day.
263. Strict Blue-Eyed Grass (Sisyrinchium montanum) Her cousin in the front prefers things dry, but this one, like many members of her family (irises), prefers things moist. It was actually easier to get her to take than the dry one, though, which I had three failed attempts at before the one I planted last year.
264. Downy Yellow Violet (Viola pubescens) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
265. Purplestem Angelica (Angelica atropurpurea) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
266. Wrinkleleaf Goldenrod (Solidago rugosa) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
267. Purple Giant Hyssop (Agastache scrophulariifolia) Not pictured as I haven't got pictures yet.
268. Buffaloberry (Shepherdia canadensis) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
269. Silverberry (Elaeagnus commutata) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
270. White Lettuce (Nabalus albus) Not pictured as she hasn't flowered yet.
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dispatchvampire · 7 months
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Radio Free Bucky - Bucky x Fem!OC
Pairing: Bucky x OC (in progress)
Warnings: Fluff, mild angst, casual swearing, smut in later chapters
Series Summary: A bunch of interrelated  of fluffy ficlets about Bucky and Penelope. Strangers in the night, tenuously connected by the past, finding their way together a little at a time.
Chapter Summary: In which Bucky has a birthday and someone unexpected knows about it.
It was his birthday, but he’d kept the proceedings low key. Dinner with Sam and his family, some cake, before retiring to the fixer-upper he’d bought not far from their family homestead so he had a place to stay in Delacroix  that wasn’t the front room couch when he came down. That’s really all he had the mental and emotional space for these days.
The soft patter of rain on the roof and windows droned in the background as he worked on the birdhouse Sarah had asked him to. Sam’s sister was a sweetheart, very unlike her brother, and he had no problem giving in to any and all requests from her and her boys. They did love them some Uncle Bucky. 
A memory of a warm summer afternoon on the bayou made him smile as Chet Baker’s smooth voice crooned about falling in love too easily, just a shade louder than the downpour. As much as Sam gave him shit for it, Bucky liked what he liked, and he wasn’t ashamed. It was good music. 
He’d found this satellite radio station one day online, looking for god knows what now, but it had been a revelation. A whole channel devoted to 40’s music, and it was like the universe was giving him a bit of comfort after kicking the hell out of him for so long. 
The soulful trumpet at the end of the song faded into the gathering shadows in his workshop.
“That was Chet Baker on vocals and trumpet there, and I think that might be my favorite song of his. It’s ten past eight here on the east coast, and this is 40s Junction.” 
Just hearing her voice made Bucky smile. It was warm, knowing, with a spark of humor that made him wonder if her actual smile was as nice as what he pictured in his head. And, to be fair, he’d pictured her a bit.  
This woman, the only female DJ at the station near as he could tell, was a nightly companion as he worked on his projects and unwound at the end of the day. Hearing tiny snippets of her life, and how joyfully she related to the music that was clearly way too old to be current for her, made him feel a little less alone in the world. It was an unusual feeling and he’d started to enjoy it. 
“Now, I know I promised you all I’d get to some Ella Fitzgerald this hour, but…” she trailed off and he turned his head to look at his phone like he expected to see her there, with a mischievous grin. “I wanted to take a moment to share something with you all. Today’s a special day in my family. It’s a tradition my Pawpaw started way back in 1945.
“I’m sure you all have guessed by now that he’s the reason I’m here with you, five nights a week from four to midnight. He was my best friend growing up and I miss him terribly. 
He served in the Army in Italy, with the 107th Infantry Regiment.” Bucky carefully set his work aside as his fingers went numb. 
“You history buffs probably recognize the unit, but for those that don't, that’s Captain America’s outfit, and my grandfather was Gabe Jones, one of the original Howling Commandos. 
“Today is March 10th, the birthday of one of my Pawpaw’s fallen comrades in arms, Bucky Barnes. For years, on this day, he’d raise a glass and tell us about the man who saved his life more than once. A man who gave him a reason to go on, to keep fighting, even when all seemed hopeless. Whose death marked his young life indelibly. You get the picture. 
“He’d raise a glass and ask us to remember the fallen and their families, and to help those still around us carry on. After the Blip, I’m sure a lot of us can relate to those sentiments.” Her sigh held paragraphs he didn’t need a translation for. 
“Anyway, long story short, it feels weird to say that Bucky isn’t dead, as Pawpaw informed us, but I’m celebrating his day just the same. I’d like to think he’s having a good 107th birthday, out there, somewhere. 
“As for me, I raise a glass to him, and all the boys who served.” She paused and he could faintly make out the sounds of ice cubes hitting glass. “And with an extra sip for those who didn’t make it home. Happy Birthday, Sergeant Barnes, wherever you are. Now, here’s Ella, serving up some Black Coffee.” 
Bucky’s gasp when the music kicked back in told him that at some point he’d lost air, and even though he was breaking currently, the lump in his throat was throttling him slowly. Of all the things… so many thoughts in his head, fragments of memories, imaginings. Abandoning his workbench entirely, he shuffled across the room to toss himself down onto the couch in the now mostly-dark. 
He could see Gabe’s face in his mind like it was yesterday. Easy smile, quick wit, brilliant mind. Gabriel Jones had been a good man, and it warmed Bucky’s heart to know he’d gone on to come home, have a family, and that he kept the joy in his life. 
The tender affection in her voice when she spoke of her grandfather said more than any words could ever. That was the true measure of a man, the love of those left behind.
There was a voice in his head, one that sounded annoyingly like Dr. Rainor’s, whispering that he was well-remembered by those he’d left behind too, and that meant something. To them, to the world. It was a voice quickly snuffed out by the knowledge that while that may have been true at the time, a whole encyclopedia of lifetimes had transpired between then and now, and his worthiness of that sentiment, no matter how well-intended, well… it was more worn than not. 
Still, it warmed his heart a little to know that he was thought of fondly, and by his DJ-crush of all people, even if it was a strange coincidence. How could it not? He may have still been getting used to this time, but having that moment, that connection no matter how brief, felt like a much-needed hug in a world that has offered him precious little in the way of comfort. 
For a second, he could just close his eyes in the gathering darkness and let the music and rain rhythm wash over him, like a baptism of time, washing him clean once more. For a second, he could just… be. And it was enough
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