Cảm giác của sự tự tạo ra một thứ gì đó thật tuyệt
Trồng hoa không chỉ là một thú vui giúp tô điểm không gian sống mà còn mang đến cảm giác hạnh phúc khi tự tay tạo nên những điều đẹp đẽ. Từ việc gieo một hạt giống nhỏ, chăm sóc từng ngày cho đến lúc cây đơm nụ và nở rộ, mỗi giai đoạn đều mang lại niềm vui và sự tự hào. Chính quá trình ấy giúp con người tìm thấy sự bình yên, kiên nhẫn và thêm yêu những giá trị giản dị của cuộc sống.
Trồng hoa là hành trình tạo nên giá trị bằng chính đôi tay
Có những niềm vui không thể mua bằng tiền, và cảm giác nhìn thấy một chậu hoa do chính mình chăm sóc nở rực rỡ là một trong số đó. Mỗi hạt giống được gieo xuống đều mang theo hy vọng, còn mỗi chiếc lá xanh hay bông hoa đầu tiên đều là thành quả của thời gian, sự quan tâm và tình yêu dành cho thiên nhiên.
Không cần một khu vườn rộng lớn, chỉ với vài chậu hoa nhỏ trên ban công hay trước hiên nhà cũng đủ để tạo nên một không gian đầy sức sống. Chính việc tự tay vun trồng giúp chúng ta cảm nhận rõ hơn giá trị của sự cố gắng và thành quả lao động.
H3: Mỗi bông hoa đều là thành quả của sự kiên nhẫn
Không có loài hoa nào nở chỉ sau một đêm. Người trồng phải học cách chờ đợi, tưới nước đúng lúc, bón phân hợp lý và quan sát sự phát triển của cây mỗi ngày. Chính quá trình ấy rèn luyện tính kiên trì, giúp con người biết trân trọng những thành quả được tạo nên từ sự bền bỉ.
Trồng hoa giúp cân bằng cảm xúc và giảm căng thẳng
Sau những giờ làm việc áp lực, việc dành vài phút để chăm sóc cây cối mang lại cảm giác thư thái đặc biệt. Ngắm nhìn những mầm non lớn lên từng ngày giúp tâm trí trở nên nhẹ nhàng hơn, giảm bớt căng thẳng và lấy lại nguồn năng lượng tích cực.
Nhiều người xem việc làm vườn như một liệu pháp tinh thần tự nhiên. Khi tập trung vào việc tưới nước, cắt tỉa hay thay đất, những lo toan trong cuộc sống dường như được gác lại, nhường chỗ cho sự bình yên và thư giãn.
H3: Mỗi ngày đều có thêm một niềm vui nhỏ
Điều thú vị của việc trồng hoa là mỗi ngày đều có một điều mới để khám phá. Hôm nay cây ra thêm một chiếc lá, ngày mai xuất hiện nụ hoa, vài hôm sau những cánh hoa bắt đầu bung nở. Những thay đổi nhỏ bé ấy mang đến niềm vui giản dị nhưng đủ để khiến mỗi ngày trở nên ý nghĩa hơn.
Thành quả của việc trồng hoa truyền cảm hứng sống tích cực
Một chậu hoa đẹp không chỉ làm sáng bừng không gian mà còn nhắc nhở chúng ta rằng mọi thành công đều cần thời gian để vun đắp. Cũng giống như cuộc sống, những điều tốt đẹp thường đến sau quá trình nỗ lực và kiên trì.
Khi tự tay tạo nên một góc xanh trong ngôi nhà, chúng ta sẽ cảm nhận rõ hơn giá trị của sự sáng tạo, lòng yêu thiên nhiên và niềm hạnh phúc đến từ những điều bình dị. Đó là cảm giác mà chỉ những người từng gieo trồng, chăm sóc và nhìn thấy hoa nở mới có thể cảm nhận trọn vẹn.
Cảm giác tự tạo ra một điều đẹp đẽ từ việc trồng hoa là món quà tinh thần vô giá. Không chỉ mang lại những bông hoa rực rỡ, việc làm vườn còn giúp nuôi dưỡng tâm hồn, rèn luyện sự kiên nhẫn và lan tỏa nguồn năng lượng tích cực. Hãy bắt đầu với một chậu hoa nhỏ, bởi biết đâu từ đó bạn sẽ tìm thấy một niềm vui lớn và một góc bình yên cho chính mình.
Hi there! No rush, but I was hoping to ask you about Through the Night. I've figured out most(?) of the options that get you to the key, but is there a way to unlock Moon's(?) room upstairs or is it normal to just be stuck in the loop, or am I overthinking things?
Either way, thank you for the experience! It's really cool, both for the sounds and the sparse but telling backgrounds & pictures that enhance the journey! Major kudos & I'll certainly appreciate any help you'd be willing to give.
Good timezone!
I know you said no rush, but I'm awake and checking tumblr so your timing is perfect. It's been out since October and has less than 500 plays but I am still putting spoilers under the cut XD
Okay so the end of the game is when you wake up to Moon knocking and he's actually there. If that's happened and you made it back to the title screen, you've beaten the game! ^^ Otherwise you're still in the loop.
It is not possible to get to Moon's room (is that Moon?... the talisman can't protect you from everything).
Also, thank you for this ask because the backgrounds are not supposed to be sparse - Silver just made new ones for the bad endings + the normal environment in December. I'll troubleshoot those tonight hopefully!
Thank you again and I'm glad you're enjoying your time on the Express! <3
Hello. I am your most reliable source of information.
I see you will soon find enlightenment here on my blog.
I report on the truth and nothing but the truth. I say things how I here them, bcz the public deserves to know, the truth.
Tag Guide:
#-REPORT (My posts)
#-INFO GATHERING (Reblogs/Interactions)
#-THE PUBLIC (Asks)
#-SPEAKER CHOOSES TO STAY ANONYMOUS (Anon asks)
#-NEW REPORTS (Post collection first post/opening)
#-CURRENT LEAD (Post collection in-between)
#-CASE CLOSED (Post collection last/conclusion)
more to be added^^
Why do I do this you ask? Well. When you ask, I answer.
It all began a long while ago.......
OOC: WOAH YOU REALLY CLICKED FOR MORE!?? OMGGG I GOT UR ATTENTION!! Dw, that's the hook, if you REALLY wanna know the villain origin story, ~ask~ (PLS!!)
Anywayz, this is my fake news blog VERY TRUE NEWS blog~!!
FIRST OFFICAL BLOG PERSONALLY, I got an official,
I MEAN NO I DON'T. I so DON'T have an official acc and you'll NEVER find it.
UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH---
TTN(totaly true news) ooc will be in purple or crossed out!!
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 2.1k
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, R has nicknames, TTN! Hobie, TTN! Reader, Thread the Needle oneshot, set during chapter 5, Best friend! Hobie, CW food mentions, FLUFF
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A/N: Happy anniversary TTN! 🎉
The floor under you sparkles in the yellow lamps Hobie scattered around the sparse bedroom. Having just moved in, the bedroom is spick and span with it's newly painted dark blue that you and the rest of the band helped paint; albeit there are streaks left on the wall and splotches of paint dotted along the floors. It's a pretty good painting job if you look at it from further away. Hobie doesn't seem to mind though as he busies himself with laying out all the pieces of his new bed frame.
Music filters in from the living room, you got to pick out a record this time since Hobie and the others picked the songs while they were helping around in the houseboat. The rushing of water from outside keeps you awake as you mend another hole in his bedsheet. Hobie notices you blinking away sleep, teasing you with a sudden loud clap near your face.
Laughing, Hobie quickly flinches away before you could grab his hand and take a playful bite just like he predicted. “I knew you'd do that, Gromit.” He turns to the giant box again, hiding his tender smile behind the cardboard box.
“And you're always too quick for me.” You're glad he's turned away from you lest he notices how you look at him like he's everything to you. He is, but he doesn't know that. Not yet anyway.
“Nah, there were a few times you got me.” Hobie heaves the biggest part of the bed, it's a simple dark varnished wood with carved lines along the sides.
You puff out your chest proudly when you remembered the times you bit him after he decided to tease you. “Once during our first summer job at the record store and that one time at that pancake place.”
He sighs, taking out a small toolbox from the almost empty closet. “Now I want flapjacks.”
“We can get some after this.”
Hobie side eyes you with a soft look. “You askin’ me out, Gromit?”
Your breath gets stuck in your throat for a moment whilst his piercings shine in the yellow light. After a moment of slight panic, you flick a roll of thread at him, landing on his foot. “We just ate.”
Hobie chuckles as something flashes behind his eyes. “You were the one who suggested it, love.” He picks up the booklet of instructions, skimming through it before tossing it over his shoulder.
You blink, scoffing. “Wha— we needed that!”
“I read it.” He shrugs, pushing and sliding the tool bag over to you, metal clinking against metal. “Come help me like you wanted to.”
Dropping the bedsheet, you close the small distance over to the tool bag and sitting down cross legged a few paces away from him. “You skimmed it, Hobs.” Stretching, you try to grab the fallen booklet, paper brushing along your fingertips. You struggle to get it while Hobie watches with amusement.
“D’you need help?” His tone is laced with sarcasm.
“Nope, I got…” You finally reach it, grabbing it and sitting back in place. “It!”
“Congratulations.” You roll your eyes. He sits down, hand filled with screws that he places next to him. “Now hand me the screwdriver.”
“Say please.”
Hobie's hand reaches out over to you, fingers flexing, and sighing as he huffs. “...please.”
You tamp down a laugh. “Of course, Hobie. Anything for you, Hobie.” He snatches the tool from your hand with a playful glare. “No thank you?”
He pats the floor next to him, and then he waves the tool in front of his face. “I'll say thank you once you give me the right screwdriver.”
“That's the right screwdriver.” You dig into the bag, exhaling once you see the other tool that matches the screws he's practically shoving in your face. “Fine,” with the right tool in hand, and the bag in the other, you stand up to sit next to him and the piles of wood. You place the screwdriver in his waiting hand, his face is smug as he elbows your arm playfully.
“Thank you, Gromit.” He utters genuinely.
You nudge right back, “you're welcome, Wallace.” Meeting with his eyes, you smile kindly before you return your attention towards the instructions.
You have no idea how you made his heart leap in his chest from the simple look.
“Says here that you should do the legs first before the one you're currently bolting in.” You don't hear him reply nor grunt in return. So you look back at him, missing how he's tenderly gazing upon you when he turns away a second before you could see it. “Hobs, it says here to do the legs first.”
“I know what ‘m doin'.”
“I didn't know you're a bed frame expert.”
He stops his hands, slowly craning his neck to look at you with his nose scrunched. “We just started and we're already arguin’.” Dropping the screwdriver, metal clanging on the hardwood floor, he narrows his eyes. “The curse is right.”
Laughing, you hit his shoulder with the booklet. “What curse?”
“That when friends put together a piece of furniture they end up fightin’ and endin’ their relationship.” Hobie cups your shoulder and tilts his head. After years of friendship, you still have no idea if he's serious or not. “I think you should go home.”
After a second, you make a sound from the back of your throat, shoving his hand away. “That's not real. If anything would've ended our friendship, it would be the time you accidentally wore one of my projects thinking it was one of my jackets only to accidentally spill paint on it.”
“In my defense, I made it better.” He cracks his façade as a smile slowly creeps on his lips.
“Right,” you start to stand up. “I'm going home.” You're completely joking, hiding your smile by turning away.
Hobie grabs your hand, looking up at you through his lashes. “‘m jokin’, please stay.” You surrender, sitting back down with a pout. “See, I told you that it ends relationships.”
“I'm going to end you if you don't stop saying that.” You glare at him, genuinely not wanting to end your relationship with your best friend over a cheaply made bed frame. He understands what you truly meant, and shares the same sentiment.
He grabs your cheeks, squeezing it until you no longer pout but your glare stays as he tries to make it up to you. “It’s a test of our friendship then. But I know we're stronger than this bed frame.”
“A well placed kick on it is stronger than the frame.” You move to bite at his hand once again, but he's again too fast for you as he removes his hands on your cheek. You won't tell him that you wanted his warmth to stay just a little bit longer. “Why'd you even buy it when your mattress is older than the queen herself?” You decide to build according to the instructions while he continues what he wants to do.
“Oi, watch it, I paid good money for this.” The sound of wood clicking together by screws fills the room as waves lap against the sides of the houseboat that rocks back and forth softly. “It's strong, the bloke who sold it to me even jumped up and down to show how strong it is. ‘sides, my old one was being held together by duct tape.”
“Sure, Hobs, I believe the salesman who wanted to make his commission.” You sarcastically say.
“Wanna bet?” His face is suddenly close to you, breath fanning across your cheek. You turn slowly, poking his cheek as he smiles.
“No, because it'll be an easy win for me.”
“We'll test it out then.” He doesn't realize the double meaning of his words once it's already out of his mouth. You do though, judging from how you blink slowly as if you're trying to let the words sink in. And how your lips are slightly parted, to which he flicks his eyes at briefly. “I mean—” He clears his throat, leaning away as your cheeks heats up and his heart thumping loudly that he's sure that you can hear.
“I–I know what you meant, Hobie.” You absentmindedly read the instructions while he mentally slaps himself.
For a while, an awkward silence hangs around the room, stifling Hobie as he works on the next piece of the bed frame. He can't handle it, so to stop the awkwardness, he throws a single screw at you. The metal lands in the middle of the instruction booklet while you were reading how to combine the pieces you and Hobie made.
“What?” You move to stare at him while he whistles innocently, hands busy with a piece of the frame. “Are you bored already?”
“Yeah, because my personal chatterbox stopped talkin'.” He smirks at you, waiting for your reaction.
“Your personal chatterbox has a splinter in her finger.” You fake a frown.
His eyes widen for a moment before scooching closer to take and inspect your hand that you showed him. “Shit, where?” He roams his eyes around your palm, fingers brushing gently along the pads of your fingers. “I don't see it, love.”
You teasingly tilt your head, a smile ghosting over your lips. “It’s there somewhere.”
“Where's the torch—?” He pauses as he hears you snicker. Looking up, he drops your hand but not letting go of it as he sees the mischievous expression on your face. “You little shit.” Grinning, Hobie squeezes your hand once before reluctantly letting go. He looks into your eyes, wanting to say something, anything to keep his mind from wanting to kiss you. For a hot second, you think he's about to say something that you two have been longing to hear. “D’you want tea?”
You exhale, hand placed on his arm like it's magnetic. “Only if you let me help.”
“Good,” he pats the back of your hand where it rests on his arm. “I don't want to dig around my boxes alone.”
‘You’ll never be alone,’ You wanted to say, but you could only stand up, hand reaching down to him as you help him up to his feet.
—
After what seems to be forever, (technically two hours and thirty minutes) the bedframe is finally built. It's bigger than you thought, enough for you and Hobie to comfortably sleep in. You shake the thought out while you wrangle the bedsheet on top of the mattress.
“Catch.” Hobie tosses a pillow with a new pillow case at you, smacking you on the face. “You didn't catch it.” He laughs, the sound echoing around the room.
“Yeah, no shit.” You throw it at the end of the bed, tired and too sleepy to retort something clever.
“I can drive you back to your dorm.” Of course he notices, sitting on the edge of the bed, he slips the end of the bed sheet neatly; finishing up the nicely made bed.
You drop yourself face first on the bed, cheek squished on a pillow. “Too sleepy.” You also don't want to go back home when your unfinished project is waiting for you there.
“Yeah, it's late. D’you want to stay the night?” Hobie lays down next to you, head facing your tired face. “I still have your PJ's from last time.” He's whispering, careful not to turn your fatigue to frustration, especially when you're stressed about your final project.
It's not the first time you and Hobie slept on the same bed, still, it makes your heart jump at thought. “The red checkered pair?” You softly reply back, completely relaxed into the bed.
“I think so, yeah.”
You fight a yawn. “Can I stay? I don't want to intrude. It is your first night here.”
“If its you? Intrude away, love.” His pinky grazes your own, you instinctively lace your finger around his. “Soon, this'll be your place too.”
You beam at him, squeezing his finger, restraining yourself from embracing him. “Okay, I'll stay the night.” The gentle rocking of the houseboat lulls you to sleep.
Patting your hand, he lets go before standing up. “I'll get your pajamas for you—” something hard hits his foot, looking down, he picks up a lone screw. “Ah shit.”
You sit up, elbows propping yourself. “What is it?” You ask blearily.
Hobie guffaws, showing you the screw. “I think we forgot one.”
You can't help but laugh despite the fatigue. He pockets it in his jeans, keeping it safe, a memorabilia of the time you helped him build his bed.
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 6.7k
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than R, CW food mention, Drinking, CW spiders, TW arachnophobia, Suggestive content, Fluff.
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CHAPTER 9 >>> CHAPTER 10
"Hobie!" You whisper yell, "what are you doing?" Eyes scanning the dark, ears perking up at the chains rattling.
"Relax, no one's here" Hobie slips through the metal gate where the chains of the lock stretched enough to give him room to wiggle himself inside. "C'mon then" he extends his hand to you, flexing his fingers impatiently. The dirty sign on the gate reads 'no trespassing' adding to your worry.
You tap your foot, biting your lip, looking behind the abandoned theme park. "Nuh uh, nope" shaking your head, you're sure something ran past behind a decrepit tent. "I'm not dying inside the old carnival! Let's just go back to the party"
"That party sucks, they're playing spin the bottle, bloody original of 'em" he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Besides we've got the good booze" sure enough, Hobie brings out a bottle of vodka tucked inside his zipped leather jacket. The liquid swishes inside as he shakes it for good measure.
"Where'd you even get that?" You laugh, surprised, eyes twinkling in the moonlight.
"Brent's dad's liquor cabinet" he says, a smug smile on his lips. "Come the fuck on, I'm freezing my balls off" Hobie lifts up the chains as far as it would allow so you could duck under it.
"We have exams on Monday!"
"Easy enough, it's all just stock knowledge" he points at his temple.
"For you it is. I'm not like you, I actually need to revise."
"And you will, Come on" Hobie sees you sticking to your stance, sighing. "If i help you revise tomorrow will you come inside?"
"Fine, I'll blame you if we get murdered by a killer clown" You duck under while Hobie's hand shields your head from the rusty metal.
"I can take him–" Hobie stops mid sentence as you stand to your full height, face mere inches away from him. So close he can see every detail of your face, how the light bounces off your eyes, clouds of air puffing out of your lips. His breath hitches in his throat.
"You and those skinny arms? Don't think so, Hobs" you try to play it off, lips pursing closed, trying to even out your breathing. "Where to go next?" You chuckle nervously, stepping away from him, taking in his sudden silence as him being uncomfortable.
"I've been eyeing that ferris wheel" Hobie shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. He walks side by side with you, keeping you close. In case there is a killer clown on the loose.
Eyes on the rickety ride. "God, no! That thing hasn't been working since the eighties, you wanna kill us?" You didn't notice that Hobie's not next to you anymore, whirling, you look for him. "Hobie? Hobie! What the fuck?" Hugging your bubble jacket closer to you in comfort. "It's not funny, Hobart!" Yelling out, you have a sudden urge to run away, but you don't, not intending to leave him.
You jump when lights suddenly turn on, blinking at you. Colorful bulbs do their best to stay on after not being used for years. You gasp out, laughing breathlessly. The place doesn't seem so scary now. You half expect the speakers to come back to life, but it doesn't, the only noise is from the whirring of the old generator and crickets singing in the dark.
Hobie lingers on the side, bottle in hand, completely enthralled with you bathed in light. A love sick smile stuck on his face.
"Hobie! Holy shit" noticing him, you call out to your best friend, waving your arms in delight.
He saunters to you, absolutely smug, you scoff playfully at his ego. "Let's hear it" Hobie brings his hand to the shell of his ear, acting like he can't hear you.
"What do you want me to say? Good job?"
"How 'bout 'You're the man, Hobie!' Or just start showering me with praises"
"I'll shower you with that vodka if you don't stop"
"Rude of you to assume I wouldn't actually like that"
You shove him lightly, "Good job flicking a switch, Hobart"
"Oi, I had to figure out which switch to open"
Rolling your eyes, you grab his arm, putting a stop to your bickering, if you don't you two would've gone all night. Leading him further inside, Hobie slyly moves his arm so he could hold your hand instead, you pretend to not notice, finding the lights to be the most interesting thing in the world, your hand cups his warm ones, squeezing it lightly.
Friends do this too, right?
Hand in hand, you stop at a booth that looks like it was for some kind of carnival game. Cartoon clowns lined up on the far back, mouths open. There's still some stuffed toys hanging on the side of the booth albeit too dirty or broken to take with you.
"Oh man, I wanted one" You pout, leaning on the divider to check for better looking toys. Hobie copies your movement, rummaging behind the counter.
Something hits your head with a squeak, you glare at Hobie acting nonchalant, feigning innocence as he examines a soft ball. You bet that it squeaks when squeezed.
"Oh 'kay" you bite your lip, blindingly reaching out towards the first thing you touch, unfortunately for Hobie it was a crusty plushy, aiming for his head, it hits him square on the chest, leaving grime and cobwebs all over his jacket.
You laugh loudly as he wipes wildly at his clothes, yelping when his hand touches something wet.
"Disgusting!" Hobie has an idea, he extends his arms towards you for a hug, taking small strides. "Come here, lovey" with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a lopsided smile, he closes the distance.
"No, don't even think about it!" Walking backwards with a smile, your back hits a pole. "Ack!" You screech when he embraces you, warmth and his familiar scent wafts your senses. A giggle escapes you, making Hobie hug you tighter.
"Now we both smell" you try to wiggle out of his hold, Hobie shakes you from side to side, you go dizzy in his arms, going limp, feigning hurt. "Oi," he shakes you lightly, chuckling at your antics. "She's dead, I can finally sacrifice her to the clowns" he moves you towards the cartoon clowns.
You drag your feet, he carries your full weight. "A little help here?" Hobie asks, you open one eye only to tightly close it again. "I'm tryin' to appease the gods here y'know" he says in between laughs, flicking your forehead.
"Really clown gods? Could've chosen better ones" you smile giddily up at him, he beams back at you, cradling the back of your head.
He scoffs, "or a much more willing sacrifice" Hobie straightens you out, fixing the collar of your jacket. You let out a small thank you, hot where his fingers grazed your skin.
"I saw somethin' better than the ferris wheel" he mumbles out.
"Yeah? Let's go then" taking his hand in yours you loop your pinky finger with his. Hobie leads you with a wobbly smile.
—
Hobie helps you up on the large Gondola, an out of commission viking ride that's supposed to swing up and down, now it's inoperable, looking glum amidst the twinkling lights. A wooden mermaid is carved on its bow, marred by time and exposed to the elements. It must've been a sight back then.
Using your foot as leverage, Hobie lifts you up by your hand, "I've got you" he heaves, your foot loses balance on the edge, threatening to fall off. "Shit!" Gasping out, you reach for his neck as he panics to grab a hold of you.
"I have you—Holy fuck!" Hobie secures you by your waist, your eyes tightly closed, head right on the crook of his neck. "You okay?" He places you back on solid ground, the ride creaks in the wind.
"Yeah," you exhale a shaky breath. Pulling away. "I'm gonna need that vodka" sitting down on the boat, you gesture towards the bottle on the floor. It wasn't even a far fall if he didn't catch you, but the thought of you getting hurt sounded alarms in his head.
Hobie snickers, he opens the bottle before he hands it to you, fingers touching yours for a split second. It's more than enough to warm his skin, not needing the alcohol to heat him up anymore. You take a sip whilst Hobie lounges to the seat in front of you, arm stretched on the back of it, long legs propped up next to your lap.
The moon casts him in a dark shadow, his newly pierced ears glinting in the moonlight, he looks ethereal this way, divine and out of reach. The lights whir, having a hard time lighting the old place.
You do the same to him with a smirk, legs right next to his jeans, taking a swig while your eyes stay to him. The warm liquid slides to your throat, warming you immediately.
You have no idea the effect you have on him. Hobie clenches his fists, breathing staggered, eyes flickering to your lips. It's not your intention though, you just wanted to show off that you can take your alcohol.
Hobie taps your thigh with his boot, clearing his throat before talking, "you're gonna drink all of it" He takes the bottle from your hand as you cough loudly. "That's what you get for hoarding all the vodka" chastising you, he leans to pat your back with a lot of effort on his part, almost folding himself in half.
"Fuck, that's– whew" your face all scrunched up, regretting your choices. Coughing again, your throat burns.
"You good, Gromit?" He asks with a laugh.
"Did you bring water with you?" Tears prick your eyes, sniffling.
"No, didn't think to" Hobie says apologetically, he winces when you let out another cough.
"You could've grabbed a bottle? I feel like my throat has razor blades in it" clearing your throat, you knead at your neck.
"Your fault, love. I didn't dare you" He takes a sip, taking your slight cough as a cautionary tale.
"Why'd you take us to this death trap anyway? Wait, did you plan this?" You look at him with a raised brow, realization hitting you.
"Nah, I told you the party was boring me to death" he lies, but you know him too well, noticing his tells. The slight bob of his adam's apple, eyes flicking to the side of your face for a split second, fingers itching at the back of his hand. You don't mention it or even tease him about it, intending to enjoy your time together.
"Yeah, going to jail for underage drinking and trespassing sounds better" you laugh, Hobie brings his feet to your lap, soles grazing your jacket. To his surprise, you don't protest. Legs parallel to each other, you play with the aglet of his boots.
"No one goes here except for teenagers wanting a place to snog" he regrets his words immediately, his ears feel like it's about to burst into flames.
You look at him with a growing smirk, with the alcohol coursing through you, it gives you liquid courage when you say the next words. "You planning on snogging me here, Hobs?"
Hobie almost spit takes at your question, he answers with the same bravado, shyness nonexistent as he feels his skin warm up from the alcohol. "If I'm gonna snog you, we would be in a better place than this rust bucket"
Instantly sobering up, you blink in surprise, chuckling nervously. Biting more than you can chew, your eyes try to avoid his lips.
Sitting in an awkward silence, Hobie takes another swig, you hug your torso from the biting cold. The tension is thick, his legs sit heavy on your lap. He notices these kinds of silences have increased these last few years, Hobie hopes it's not because you're pulling away from him or worse, him pushing you away with his growing affections.
You finally try to cut the tension, "Can we–" Hobie thought of the same, unintentionally cutting you off.
"I'm–shit. Sorry, go on" He really wants to hear what your next words will be, it could either cross the line between your friendship into something more. Hobie anticipates, hanging to every syllable you would utter.
"Can we go home? This place kinda gives me the creeps" He did not expect that, "the lights help but now some of them are flickering and it's like something's gonna come out" biting your lip, you look at Hobie directly.
The only reason you want to go is to get rid of the awkwardness, blaming the dark yet romantic atmosphere. You want to stay, you really do, but if the air stays like this between you, you'd rather go home. Save yourself the embarrassment of pining for your best friend. Guess Hobie isn't the only one lying tonight.
"Yeah, sure" He sits up, dejected, legs retreating back to him.
"Sorry, what was it you're gonna say?" Leaning your elbows on top of your thighs, you take the bottle from Hobie, getting his attention.
He sighs, you see a rare sight. He looks somewhat afraid. Why would Hobie be afraid though? It's just you.
You try to encourage him with a joke, "you feeling okay? You look constipated, is it the vodka?" He chuckles, you stand up, mirroring his small smile.
But that's the thing, it's you, a few years ago his little crush turned into puppy love, and that love turned into full blown yearning, longing for you to see him as something else other than your 'best mate' at first he thought it was just a phase, muddled with his teenage hormones, latching to the closest person he feels attracted to. Then it persisted, he realized that his deep affection for you was something else entirely other than some hormone induced crush.
It was safe to say Hobie hated puberty.
He bites the bullet, if he's gonna tell anyone it would be you. "I'm leaving school"
"Oh" dropping down from the gondola, you hide your frown. He's leaving, he's leaving you. Hands shaking at the thought, you mindlessly walk away, following the brightest thing in the carnival. "Why are you leaving?" Trying to hide the shakiness of your voice, you wring your hands together, taking another sip of the warm liquid.
Is it you? Did you cross the border too much? Is he sick of you? The cold doesn't help with your thoughts.
"I don't like school, you know that" Hobie watches your retreating form, he knew you wouldn't take it well but it still hurts when you turned your back on him. "Y/n" he calls out as you step on the carousel.
Turning around, his explanation calmed you down a smidge. You try to fix your expression. The bright lights of the carousel envelopes you, a halo forming around your body. You give him your hundred dollar smile.
"Okay, just don't forget me when you're famous" laughing dryly, Hobie joins you in the light, taking your shaking hands.
Knowing you for a long time, he reads you like an open book, looping his pinky with yours, Hobie looks at you straight on.
"I'm staying in the city, just not at school. 'm not leaving" you, he wanted to add but he's not brave enough to say the word.
Inhaling, you focus on the horses instead of his hold on you. "You should've led with that," you say with a tight lipped smile, extending your encouragement to him, you swallow your sadness. "I'm proud of you, if anyone's gonna make it out there it would be you" finally looking at him, gold bounces off his iris, honeyed flecks dancing in his eyes. "You can go on tour if you want to, you don't have to stay in the city" with me, the words echo in your mind.
Telling the absolute truth, your face is serious, hiding the ache. You will always be supportive of him even if it means leaving you in the process.
"Well we have to build our reputation first before goin' on tour," Hobie sways your intertwined hands. "Besides, my number one fan is here, who's gonna cheer us on?" He gives you his best smile, the same one that haunts your dreams.
Legs wobble from under you, leaning towards him, Hobie's eyes widen at your movement.
You embrace him, head laying on his broad shoulder. Mind reeling, you can't help but feel you're holding him back from doing greater things.
A sharp whistle pulls you away.
—
Hobie opens his eyes, back aching from the lumpy settee, his right arm practically numb. He's not usually a morning person, but with you sleeping comfortably in his arms, he wants to wake up earlier just to see this rare sight. Hobie smiles at how relaxed your face is, brows unfurrowed, mouth slightly parted and your skin glistening in the early morning sun. Your back to the couch, squeezed in between him and the settee, Hobie's arm wrapped around your torso, protecting you from the springs protruding from the cushions. Your Hands tucked to his side, fingers curled unconsciously on his shirt.
He doesn't care that his long legs dangle off the armrest, couch too small for his tall stature, or how there's a crick in his neck. Despite it all, Hobie hasn't slept this well in a long time. He's glad last night wasn't all a dream. Gently caressing your cheek with his pinky just to make sure you're actually real in his embrace.
You shift in your sleep, licking your dry lips, inhaling a gulp of air. It's like you're attuned with his senses, already knowing he's wide awake. You fake sleep, acting like you're deep in slumberland. Feeling his chest rise up and down, you can't help but curl your lips into a small smile when he covers his leg over yours, securing you in his hold.
Hobie knows you're awake though, his enhanced senses telling him the shift in your heartbeat and breathing. He's in a good mood so he intends to tease you this morning. Testing to see what your reaction will be in this new found position he has you in.
He tries to leave the couch, carefully taking his arm from under you, leg up, untangling from yours. You immediately protest, grasping his torso with your eyes closed. Pulling him back down to your side. Chuckling at your reaction, butt hitting the cushions with a thud, he slides back down to your side, going back to the same position. Your cheek pressed to his chest as Hobie kneads at the soft skin of your waist.
Still in your outfit, his fingers fiddle with a sunflower stitched to your cami. You lean further into him, arm over his torso, feeling his warmth through his shirt.
You're the first one to speak, sleep still lingering in your voice. "You talked in your sleep"
"And you drooled all over me but no one's keeping track" Hobie's morning voice sounds deeper, goosebumps appear on your skin when you feel the vibration from his chest.
"Hmm" you hum, content in his arms, savoring the precious moment. "I don't drool" cracking one eye open, you fight the sleep off. You rile him up just to hear the deep rumble of his voice.
"There's a wet patch on my sleeve that begs to differ" he says, nuzzling your hair. "What did I say?"
"Hm, you woke me up for a bit when you said clowns and my name. Sounds like you were having a really good dream about me" you take a peek at him through half lidded eyes. Hobie gently rubs the sleep off the corners, you practically vibrate at his touch.
"Well, you are a clown" he quips, you gasp dramatically, grabbing the hem of his shirt, balling it in your fist.
"What did you say? You punk?" Trying to sound as menacing as possible even though you're half asleep, you smile through the threat.
"I said you're gorgeous" his eyes flick to your lips for a second before Hobie gives you his best smile. You feel like a gem in his gaze, letting out a small 'thought so'. "For a clown" he says against your lips, chasing the soft plush of it.
"You–!" Pushing him off the sofa, he laughs all the way down, his butt landing on the floor, back on the foot of the sofa. His hands glued to your waist, almost bringing you down with him. You lay upside down with Hobie's hand on you, his face upturned, inches away from yours.
Pecking the tip of his nose, you don't care for morning breath, with Hobie, nothing embarasses you anymore. He feels the same, leaning up to change the course of your kiss to his waiting lips.
Giggling, you cup his jaw, neck straining to reach him in the upside down kiss. Hobie feels like he's dreaming again.
Before the kiss could go any further, you pull away, already missing his lips. "Can I go shower?"
"Sorry, I should've brushed first" he winces.
"It's not that, we literally made out last night with shawarma breath. I don't give a shit, Hobs" you chuckle, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips for good measure. He grins at your words, "I just really need to get out of these clothes and wash my face"
"Right, You just want to wear my clothes" Hobie flicks your forehead, "perv"
"You're the perv, dreaming about me with clowns and shit" laughing, you sit upright, nudging him with your socked foot.
"Yeah, it was bloody steamy" he riles you up again, it doesn't work this time though.
"Tell me later" walking to the bathroom, you spare him a sly glance over your shoulder.
When did you get so immune to his teasing? Hobie feels he needs to up his game.
—
Hobie scrapes off the egg sticking to the pan, now in his home clothes, a plain band shirt with the sleeves cut off and sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Hissing when hot oil flies towards his hand.
He feels you before he hears you, shutting the bedroom door behind you, the broken answering machine takes your attention from Hobie's toned arms.
Wiping your arms with the towel, you glare at the machine. "What are you planning with this thing?" Gesturing vaguely.
"What thing?" Taking the mugs out of the cabinet, he spares a look behind him. Maybe he shouldn't have. You look right at home, his jumper hugs your torso comfortably, pajama pants that he hasn't worn in a long time fits just right on your waist.
Hobie wants to kiss you as soon as possible. His senses are still a bit wonky, jumping slightly when the bread digs out of the toaster.
"Your machine" moving closer to him, feet padding on the wooden floors, you take the plate full of eggs, scrambled for you, sunny side up for him. "Thanks, Hobs"
"Ah, you forgot somethin'" you hum curiously, letting him turn you back around by your shoulder. Thinking that he might hand you the mugs of tea, instead he kisses your cheek, you squeak out, carefully balancing the plate in your wobbly hand. "There, what's up with the machine?" He goes back to making tea as if he didn't steal a kiss right under your nose. You don't seem to mind though.
"I think you should just throw it out"
"I can still fix it" He pours milk into your cup.
"Hobie, I know you can but that thing is bloody cursed" tone serious, you place the eggs on the kitchen island.
He guffaws at your comment, he can't believe your minds are so in sync with each other, Hobie sometimes feels like you're connected to him.
He still asks you even though he knows your answer, a ploy to keep hearing your voice. "Why do you think it's cursed?"
"Well, you bought it off an estate sale, it's probably haunted by the old owner. Second, it shocked you while you were installing the damn thing." Hands on your hips, you lean on the counter. Hobie snickers at your comments. "And lastly it has committed a crime against us"
Hobie laughs loudly, shaking the boat slightly as he doubles over in laughter. "What's the crime that my machine committed?" Mirroring your stance, he drapes the dish cloth over his shoulder.
You bite the inside of your cheek with how attractive he looks right now. "Sabotage" mumbling it out.
"Sabotage?" Hobie closes the distance, hands lovingly holding your shoulders. You click your tongue, moving his hand from your shoulder up to your jaw before you place your hands back to your hips again.
He tilts his head, thumb circling over to your cheek. "Cursed or not, the thing's expensive. I can still fix it"
"My parents have a spare one, I can nick it for you" biting your lip, you say the next words softly like you're still unsure. "Take it as a housewarming present from me, before I move in?"
Hobie's giddy smile melts your trepidation, leaning in, he stops a few centimeters from your lips. Closing your eyes in anticipation. Your brows furrowed when you don't feel his lips on yours. Cracking your eyes open, you see Hobie smirking mischievously. Huffing, you stick out your tongue in annoyance. Pushing him away with your palm on his face.
He chuckles, pinching your nose for a brief second before going back to making your tea. His houseboat has never felt more like home before, Hobie thinks you're the missing piece in making it so.
—
Hobie and you share a plate, standing hip to hip near the kitchen island, forks fighting for the last bit of egg. Soft music plays in the background from his old record player, the slow song a rare one in his large collection of vinyls.
"Since when?" He stops attacking you with his fork, moving the egg closer to your side of the plate, surrendering.
"Hmm? Since when what?" You ask, cutting the egg in half, giving the bigger cut to him.
He hums appreciatively, bringing the egg to his mouth. Suddenly feeling anxious at what he's gonna say.
Drinking your tea, you wait for him to continue.
"Since when did you start fancying me?" You almost choke, eyes widening at his question. Hobie never fails to surprise you.
You swallow your breakfast, "well," buying time, sipping your drink. "I don't know the day exactly. I think everything just clicked for me" answering, you avoid his gaze.
Hobie moves your chin so he could look you in the eyes. He didn't confess to you and make things awkward between you. Breaking the tension, he moves closer, leaning against the counter. Hand comfortably pressed on the small of your back. You bring him closer by his waist, hand staying there.
"So you just woke up one day and went 'I fancy my best mate?'" Fully joking, he raises a pierced brow.
You chortle, "No, I remember it being gradual. Like slowly getting past your ego," he rolls his eyes, you chuckle at his reaction. "your teasing and all the spikes." Giggling, he clutches his nonexistent pearls. "I dunno exactly when" shrugging your shoulders, you tell the truth. "But a rough approximate, probably between year eight or nine"
"You fuckin' telling me I could've been holding you like this since year nine?"
You guffaw loudly, "maybe not like this! We would've been too young!"
"A couple of years later then" Hobie matches your laugh, hugging you closer.
After a minute of comfortable silence, you continue to eat while still clinging to each other, Hobie pipes up. "Do you have someplace to be today?" He hopes for a 'no'
"Yeah, I have to go back to campus to submit my papers for graduation" biting a piece of your toast, noticing his lack of reply. "Or I can do that tomorrow." You see him perk up in your peripheral, "deadline isn't till next week anyway" slyly side eyeing him, a cheeky smile on your giddy face.
"Good" He acts disinterested. Hiding his smile behind his mug, but you know better.
You wait for a few seconds, smirk slowly spreading on your lips. "You've got something planned for us?"
Hobie chuckles, "Nah, just wanna stay home" he wipes the crumbs off your chin. "With you"
"Oohh I feel so special" leaning into his touch, you blink at him prettily.
"Gorgeous" he softly says, staring deep into your eyes.
"Yeah? Even with crumbs all over me?"
Without warning, He lifts you up by your thighs effortlessly. Laughter fills the modest boat, you cling to his neck, leaning down to kiss him. He tastes sweet because of the tea, you savor him, legs tightening around his waist. Humming into the kiss. His hands squeeze your upper thighs, still at a respectable distance.
Thanks to his new found senses, Hobie leads you back to the couch, a feat in itself without bumping into furniture while his eyes are closed. His back lands on the lumpy cushions, earning him a groan as he feels the friction between you. Kissing you deeper, fingers massaging the back of your neck.
You arch your back, Hobie lets out a deep sound from the back of his throat. Needing air, you pull away with a breathless smile.
"Fuck" His chest heaves up and down, half lidded eyes stare up at you.
Chuckling, satisfied at his reaction, you lean back down to pepper his jaw with kisses. Hobie laughs (which sounded more like a giggle to you) with every smack of your lips on his skin.
"You sound" kiss "so manly" kiss "right now"
"That so?" Surroundings blur as he flips you over quickly but carefully, a large hand cradling the back of your head so that you don't hit the armrest. Your back landing on the cushion, legs still wrapped around his waist. His arms cageing you, grinning down at your flustered face. His necklace swings over your face, you restrain yourself from grabbing it to pull him further down to you.
You gulp down on air, like butter on a hot pan, you melt under him. Hobie sees your bare fingers, having an idea. With love seeping out of his pores, he slips his favourite ring off his finger. You give him a curious stare, feeling loopy with all the affections.
"Hand" he instructs you with a goofy smile, fingers flexing towards you. Shaking your head, you play hard to get. He rolls his eyes, smiling staying put. "Please"
Giggling, you give him your left hand, your heart threatening to pump out of your chest as he slips the metal ring to your pointing finger. You bite your lip when the ring twirls around your finger, ring too big for it. He huffs, sparing you a playful glance. You shrug, biting your lip to tamp down your giddy laughter.
Hobie takes the ring out for a second before putting it on your middle finger, it fits perfectly around you. The metal arms of the spider curl around your finger, hugging it. The red gleam of its eyes makes it look alive.
You bring the hand closer to your face, fanning your face like a southern bell about to faint from the summer heat.
Hobie's face feels like it's about to set on fire, pulse drumming loudly against his skin. He laughs at your antics. Admiring his ring on you.
"I made you so soft for me" your eyes tender, saying it in a sing-song cadence, hand reaching up to cup his cheek. You feel how warm he is, his ring grants him reprieve, cooling down a tiny area of his skin.
"Not soft right now though" Hobie leans down with a grin. You know exactly what he meant.
Gasping out, "Hobie! You–" Hobie cuts you off by blowing raspberries on the soft plush of your neck.
—
Hobie drops you off in front of your dorm building, you're practically wearing his wardrobe, save for your own shoes. Leather jacket over his jumper, too long jeans that he folded on each leg so you don't trip over the denim. His ring shines in the late morning sun right on your middle finger, still giddy at the thought of you wearing it. Your heavy bag full of clothes slung over your shoulder.
Hobie sits on his bike, motor still running, his hands sit comfortably on your waist. You're slotted in between his legs, fingers fixing the stray threads on his leather vest that you've lovingly given to him.
You've (reluctantly) come back to the dorms to submit your graduation requirements, having the entire day to yourself (to your dismay) but it's a necessary evil so you could spend the entire day with him tomorrow.
"You sure you don't want me to pick you up tomorrow?" He loops his thumb over your (his) belt loop.
"Nope, I can meet you there. I need to drop by aunt Janet's for my last order and you've got that protest. I can go with you if I finish early though"
"Right, call me if you need a ride" Hobie doesn't want to pressure you or worse, make you feel stifled.
"Mm-hmm, it's just a roll of fabric. I've managed before" you act brave in front of him. Truth be told, you want him next to you the entire day tomorrow, but you don't want him to think you're being too clingy. You're gonna move in with him anyway.
"Then I'll help you move in" as if reading your mind, Hobie pipes up excitedly.
"Then you can help me move in" chuckling, you agree with him. "First proper date tomorrow, huh?"
Hobie snorts, "Don't think that's the first one ever. We've been on hundreds"
"Yeah, but this one would be the first proper one. You asked me this time" looking at him through your eyelashes you can't help but peck his cheek. "You've got a plan for us then?"
"Maybe" Hobie guides your face with his hand, moving you to his lips instead. "Hell, I'll even get you flowers if you want. Since it's the first proper one" he says against your kiss bitten lips.
"Looking forward to it then" kissing him goodbye, you embrace him tightly. "Oh!" Pulling away suddenly, he pouts his lips. "I almost forgot, here" you take something out of your bag, placing it in his hand.
He looks at the red and blue spider trapped inside the glass casing, "it's dead right?"
"Yeah, you squished it. I've been meaning to give it to you since you gave me one" showing your ringed finger, twirling the metal spider around.
"How romantic, a dead spider" He says deadpanned, side eyeing you.
"Fine, give it here. Peter will love it" reaching over to take it from Hobie, he moves it away from you.
"Nah, it's mine. You gave it to me first" clicking his tongue, eyes crinkling in the corners, Hobie pockets it with a ghost of a smile.
You shake your head with a loopy grin, pecking his lips one last time before leaving. "Drive carefully" eyes soft, leaving one last kiss for good measure.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow, love" He chases your lips, hesitantly pulling away.
—
You bump into your RA in the hallway, she looks at you from head to toe, clearly not in your own clothes.
"Fun night?" She asks with a knowing smirk.
"Very fun" you indulge her because of your good mood. She does a double take, not expecting you to actually answer her like that.
—
You sigh for the umpteenth time, closing the door to the admin's office. Still in Hobie's clothes, coming down from the high of being with him, you crave him more. Having some sort of withdrawal symptoms, feeling jittery and excited to see him again. Of course you wouldn't tell him that or he'll endlessly tease you about it.
Smiling like a mad woman, you walk past your old classroom.
"L/n!" Mrs. Williams calls out to you. Surprised she knows your last name or even remembers you. You peek around the corner, seeing her sitting down on her desk littered with stacks of papers and Manila envelopes.
"Good afternoon, professor" smiling politely, she gestures for you to come inside.
Truth be told, you were saving her for last on submitting your requirements, even though she was strict and (undeniably) terrifying, Mrs. Williams was an inspiration to you. Always prim and proper, her talent in designing is top tier. You learned a lot from her.
You stop right next to her desk, glancing at the various portfolios on her desk. Spotting yours in the forefront, you flick your eyes back to the brunette, hiding your sudden nervousness. Maybe you should've changed into something more fashionable before going back to campus. Hiding your hands inside Hobie's sleeves, you anxiously pick at your nail polish or what's left of it.
"Knock knock" someone suddenly knocks on the (already) open doors with enthusiasm. Turning around, you recognize the man as Mr. Riley from the fashion show, he holds two lattes in his hand.
He stands up straight the moment he spots you, "oh great timing"
"I assume you've met each other?" The woman genuinely smiles at Mr. Riley.
"Yes," answering, you don't miss their lingering looks towards one another as Mr. Riley gives her the latte.
"I was about to tell her about your proposition" Williams says through her paper cup.
Snapping out of it, Mr. Riley gives you his best smile. "Well, I've faxed my boss your portfolio and she absolutely loves it!" You beam at his words. "We would really love it for you to be part of the team after you graduate"
"That's amazing! I–I don't know what to say" you roam your eyes towards your professor for approval, she looks at you with a nod and small smile. "Thank you!" You laugh in bewilderment.
"Is that a yes?" Riley brings his hand for you to shake. "Of course we'll give you ample time to sort your papers for the move. Two months seems like the right timeline."
You were about to shake his hand to accept his offer but you stop halfway when he says the word 'move'. "I have to move? Where exactly?" Voice shaking, you drop your hand back to your side.
"L.A. in America" He says as if that's the closest place to move to. "You know, where our headquarters are?"
Mrs. Williams notices your knitted brows and slow blinks. "Ian, may I talk to my student for a minute" she looks up at him through her long lashes.
"Yeah– of course, I forgot your scones anyway. Be right back!" He walks away, shutting the door behind him.
Heart stuck in your throat, you look at your professor for guidance.
"Listen, out of the entire graduating class, only three were approved. One of them is you."
You release a shaky breath, lips tightening to a flat line, trying to stop your heaving. Your excitement turns into something indistinguishable, something that feels unwarranted, a stabbing sensation all over your skin.
Williams takes your portfolio in hand, flipping through it. "You see this?" She shows you a sketch of Hobie's outfit, his eyes seem to pierce through you. "This is the outfit, the only reason it didn't make it to the top three is because there wasn't enough of you in it."
You try to wrap your mind around her statement, ears focused on her words.
"I understand your…" she tries to find the right words. "...worry. But you must understand, not a lot of people get this opportunity. Don't let it pass you by"
You recognize those words, heart clenching at the different meaning behind it.
"Riley will only be here till next week, you have that time to decide. Please take my words into consideration, I want all my students to thrive."
You nod, murmuring a small 'thank you'. Walking away from the room, you slip away to an empty broom closet. Mind racing, it all stops to him, his smiling face appears in your mind's eye, voice echoing amidst the rushing and chaos of your thoughts.
Silent tears slide down your cheeks. You don't even know why you're crying. Already knowing what to do, wiping your eyes, tears sticking on your lashes, you already know, Right?
A/N: Thank you for reading! I can't believe we're almost at the end 😭 let me know your thoughts ❤️
