#*sips tea with gleeful abandon*

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Sorry for being MIA for a little while, inazuma had me in its basement and university was being a little bitc-

I JUST READ THE LITTLE SCENARIO WHERE U BECOME ABYSSAL RULER????

Im in love, pls, to the person who sent that: Your hand in marriage, pls and ty

Now to the angst- Imagine the BETRAYAL the traveler, your friends and Childe feel when they find out. Ofc the first one to recognize you is mothman, how could he not? Your scent is ingrained in his brain after countless nights of cuddles and purring.

Oh!!! Maybe the order launches an attack and he has to help Zhongli and the harbor! And baby gets so confused and hurt when he sees you with them, head held high and clearly not human anymore, besides your faint scent of home and long lost comfort, he recognizes the way you poise yourself, not an ounce of hesitation in what you and your troops are about to do.

He does a inquisitive whine, one that only you can interpret and flinches when a rumbling growl, more potent that what he could ever muster, is released from your throat. And with that, the Abyss descends upon Teyvat.

—————————

Also! Do you think anybody would be able to know its us? If physically we changed so much? Zhongli maybe connects the dots. Would they aim to kill? Would Childe even let them? Oh, the despair! His firends or you? Who does he sides with? THE ANGST FUCK-

🦬anon who is likely to fail at least one class this semester, pls send help, im not fit for modeling human characters in blender-

Sorry for cursing too-

helloooo welcome back!!! university can calm tf down and let you rest istg >:(

OH MY GOODNESS I JUST HAD AN EXTRAORDINARY IDEA- you set the Abyss upon Teyvat and leave the monsters to it, seemingly vanishing back into the Abyss where you came from. no one minds, it just makes fighting easier for them without you to confront, but it confuses Childe. even the creatures who live in the Abyss daily have the desire to get out of it, whether the reason is to cause chaos in the world above or see the sun again, so why would you return to it?

he decides to investigate, ignoring the feeling of dread lingering over him. he follows you, slowly making his way through the hoards of monsters and deeper into the Abyss, determined to get to you and try, try and talk to you again. strangely you don't ever show as he travels down, down, down into the darkness.

finally he reaches the throne room. it's completely silent and dark, only illuminated by faintly twinkling stars. your figure is perched on an elegant throne, hands folded on your lap. you say nothing as he approaches. nothing as he stops near your feet. nothing as he cautiously reaches up and brushes against your hand. you're cold, ice cold, and you don't move a muscle, stars showing beneath your skin. because you're dead, the magic of the Abyss having overwhelmed your body and left you merely a serenely sitting figure on a throne.

[joels6string]

Home For Christmas

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel senses your morose as December 25th approaches and sets out to make the holiday special.

Rating: T

Word Count: 948

Content: Christmas fluff, Joel trying his best, some folks call this thing here a gee-tar

The winter mountain chill was ruthless. Its unforgiving bite fought through the heat of the fire burning in the hearth and held you hostage, your fingers trembling as you took the kettle off the stove and poured the still-bubbling water into your mug. Joel was visible from the window, wrapped in your scarf and his jacket, leather gloves gripping the handle of a shovel as he cleared the snow that had been dumped overnight, Ellie tossing snowballs at him every so often with a gleeful shriek. 

You watched them as you sipped your tea, wanting to don your boots and join them but something was holding you back. A dark cloud that floated in this time of year as memories from decades past began to haunt you. Somehow the scene before you made it worse despite its pure, unhindered joy.

Christmas had always been your favorite time of year, the gifts, family, all the red and greens, golds and silvers, and it had all been ripped away. Your mood had begun to dampen at the start of December, only getting worse now in the week leading up to the day in question. Not even the decor of the town square was helping, so much was still missing.

“Mornin’, darlin’,” Joel greeted through numb lips, pressing them icily to your cheek, “S’just you and Ellie today, I’m headin’ out with Tommy to search the old resorts for supplies.”

All you gave him was a nod. They’d been up there countless times, how much could be left?

“How much more do you need, Joel?” Tommy griped as they entered the old ski lodge, Joel’s destination already in mind, “Christmas is in two days.”

“One more thing,” he replied, climbing over the rubble he’d memorized the quickest path through weeks ago, “Forgot it last time.”

“Your age is catchin’ up to you.”

“Watch it now…”

The trail back down the mountainside was slow, he was looking for something. Tommy searched alongside him, yelling out potential candidates all for Joel to shoot them down. No, this needed to be perfect.

“Maria still getting them for dinner?” Joel yelled over a gust of wind, “Reckon we got another hour before we need to head back.”

“Yeah, she is,” Tommy confirmed, “What about this one?”

You woke up to an empty bed on Christmas Eve, a heavy sigh slumping you back into your pillow as you stared at the mess of blankets beside you. Voices traveled up the stairs, Joel and what sounded like Tommy were bickering about something in your living room before the clock had struck 9 AM, at least Joel had taken care to close the door and allow you a late morning.

The smell of coffee hit your nose as you stepped out into the hallway, Joel’s flannel hanging loosely on your frame as you descended the steps.

“No, put it over here!” you heard Ellie yell, “So we can see it from the window!”

“Yeah, that’s good,” Joel agreed, out of breath and voice strained. What the hell were they doing?

With a furrowed brow you rounded into the living room, your jaw dropping as it came into view. Joel and Tommy were currently wrestling a pine tree into the left corner of the living room, right in front of the window, Ellie looking on as she directed the men to find the perfect spot. Boxes of decorations littered the furniture, and tangled strings of lights sat in piles around a free outlet, one still plugged in, its white lights glittering amidst the chaos.

“What is all this?” you asked quietly, Joel’s attention quickly snapping to you, a gentle grin settling on his face.

“What’s it look like?” he answered snarkily, abandoning Tommy who grunted at the newly added weight he was bearing to pull you into his chest.

For the first time in weeks, your smile sparkled into your eyes as you, Joel, and Ellie sifted through Joel’s collected decor, baubles and ornaments that had no pattern or reason joining the wooden beads and lights on the pine tree he’d found deep in the forests and cut down just yesterday. Ellie sat atop Joel’s shoulders to put the finishing touches on the tree, his forgotten star, the point almost touching the ceiling as they took a step back to marvel at the job well done. 

As the sun began to set after dinner had been shared, Joel gathered everyone in the living room, his newest creation set against the couch ready for its maiden voyage. Words weren’t necessary as you gathered around the space, a fire roaring once again as the tree sparkled, Joel’s fingers beginning to strum lightly over the strings of his guitar. (Play me!🎸)

The familiar notes of “Silent Night” filled the room, not a note out of tune as he hummed along with it, Ellie’s head leaning against your shoulder as the light disappeared behind the mountains, only the flames and Christmas lights setting a warm glow across the room until he was done. Ellie excused herself when he finished, bidding you both a good night softly, gratitude heavy in her voice. 

“Thank you,” you whimpered as Joel pulled you into his arms after flicking the TV on, the familiar opening scene of your favorite Christmas movie beginning to play.

“Merry Christmas, darlin’,” he cooed, never one for many words.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, the steady thrum of his heart against your ear too strong to resist the effects of. You woke the next morning in your bed, his body pressed tightly behind you, arm slung around your waist, Ellie’s eager voice yelling up the stairs.

“It’s fucking Christmas!”

Joel Miller Masterlist

[livingstonegordo]

Operation Idiots in Love

Bobby

"Okay, that's it." Hen sighed as she watched Buck run up the stairs and out the front door. "I can't take it anymore. We have gotta get them together."

"Get who together?" Bobby asked, sipping a ginger ale.

"Those two idiots who are so far up each other's asses they can't see how in love with each other they are!" she exclaimed, gesturing to where Buck disappeared too.

Chimney was nodding enthusiastically as he listened to Hen. "He's literally abandoning us because Eddie called and said he broke up with the teacher!" He threw his arms up in the air, dangerously sloshing his own drink.

"Maybe we shouldn't meddle in their personal lives, guys," Bobby admonished lightly. "If Buck and Eddie are going to actually take the leap they need to do it on their own."

"Bobby, this is a family, and family meddles in each other's personal lives." Athena gently smacked his arm for emphasis. "Not to mention they're both so oblivious it could take 20 more years before they get it together." There were laughs and murmurs of agreement from their group.

Bobby and Athena had planned a small baby shower for Maddie and Chimney, not wanting to host too many people during a pandemic, but wanting to celebrate with their chosen family. It was just them, Hen and Karen, Buck and Albert, and of course Chimney and Maddie. Eddie had been invited but had back to back appointments for Christopher and was supposed to have lunch with Ms. Flores. They'd gotten through presents, cake, and some games and were mostly just hanging around and chatting in groups when Eddie called Buck to report that, for whatever reason, he and Ana had decided to call it quits. Buck had been sprinting up the stairs before Eddie had even stopped to take a breath.

"Whose personal life are we meddling in?" Maddie asked as she made her way over to them, leaving Karen looking bewildered with a very enthusiastically gesturing Albert.

"Buck and Eddie's," Chimney said, leaning over to kiss Maddie on the cheek when she gracelessly plopped next to him on the couch. "We can't take it anymore. They obviously need a push, just to get the ball rolling."

"I wholly agree," Maddie said. "They're never gonna get there on their own." She was slowly rubbing a circle on her stomach.

"We'll need to plan it out carefully," Hen said. "Maybe we should schedule something where we can get together and brainstorm."

"I'll make a group chat now." Athena set her drink down on a coaster on the coffee table and pulled out her phone.

"We should come up with a code name," Maddie said. "We don't want them knowing we're talking about them."

Grinning, Chim said, "Operation Just Admit It Already."

Hen snickered. "Operation No Homo."

"Excuse me?" Karen said walking up.

"Operation We Can't Stand the Sexual Tension Any Longer." At that Maddie shook her head then lightly pushed Chim.

Hen quietly explained what they were up to to her wife (who looked more and more gleeful with every word) while they all got a text from Athena who had finished creating their group chat. Bobby looked at his phone, a little dismayed to be included in it, but he smiled when he saw the name of the group chat.

"That's perfect, Athena." Maddie smiled. "It's not exactly discreet but they're so oblivious they would never think it's about them."

"Bobby called them that the other night, I thought it was fitting."

"We should include Carla! She'll be so angry if we don't. She likes to gossip about them with Maddie!" Chimney said.

"We do not gossip about my brother. We simply vent about how dumb they are." Hen and Karen laughed while Chimney rolled his eyes.

Bobby sighed, sure all future down time was going to be spent on this.

Operation Idiots in Love.

---

Maddie

The next day Maddie had some time, so she called Carla to explain what they were up to and she asked immediately to be added to the group chat.

"I've been watching those two dance around each other for years. It is high time they get it together."

"Oh I know!" Maddie exclaimed. She was sitting at the table with a cup of tea, wishing it was a second cup of coffee. "I met Eddie and Chimney at the same time and I said to Buck that day ‘he's cute’ meaning Chim, but Buck immediately responded with ‘he gets that a lot, you should see his son’ cause, you know, Eddie is always on his mind. Even back then." She shook her head even though Carla wouldn't be able to see it.

"They've both been through so much, before they met and after. I just want to see my two boys happy."

"And Christopher will be okay with it, right?" Maddie, who was always on the verge of tears these days, fought to keep herself from crying.

"Honey, Christopher has told me at least 4 times that he wants his dad to marry Buck, so that Buck can be around all the time!"

"He has?" Maddie asked, losing the battle with her tear ducts.

"That boy loves our Buckaroo so much,” Carla said, and Maddie could hear the smile in her voice.

"Buck loves him so much, too," she said, sniffling. "Okay I will add you to the group chat. But I am warning you now you might want to keep it muted. Chim and Hen have been blowing it up all morning."

After hanging up with Carla, Maddie had a stern talk with her tears ducts -we cannot cry over everything for the rest of this pregnancy!- downed her tea and quickly got ready for work. She'd downgraded to only working part time as her pregnancy progressed. Since this was a geriatric pregnancy (God, did Maddie hate that word) she knew she and the baby were at a higher risk and wanted to make sure she wasn't over exerting herself- not to mention the fact that she cried a lot easier these days. And when you're a 911 operator crying is not beneficial to the people who really need her help. When she got to the call center she saw May and Linda already on the phones and Josh standing with another operator named Cheryl. She quickly made her way to the locker room to stow her bag, stopped for more tea from the break room and settled in at her desk. It was an hour later when she got some inspiration from a call. The caller was a young woman, Daisy, who was on a first date at a small vegan restaurant, and her date, Cara, had been hit by a car while crossing the street after lunch- nothing serious just a broken leg, though, from the sounds of the scene, the driver was under the influence. She dispatched a squad car and EMS to the scene and waited with Daisy who was on the verge of a panic attack. Maddie was able to keep her calm by giving her clear directions on how to help her date, and reminding her to breath. Daisy had the phone on speakerphone, laying on the pavement next to Cara’s head and when the paramedics arrived Daisy let out a sob. “They’re here! Maddie, the paramedics are here!”

“Good. I may be a little biased, but the 118 is the best firehouse in the city and they will take excellent care of Cara.”

“Playing favorites, Mads?” she heard Chimney say followed by the smack of his chewing gum. “Guess I can’t really blame you. Alright, Miss, can you tell me your name?”

“Cara,” she said weakly. Daisy must have picked up her phone and turned off speaker phone because Chimney’s voice became quieter as he continued to assess Cara’s injuries.

“They know you?” Daisy asked.

“They do.” Maddie smiled. “We’re family.”

When Daisy disconnected the call, Maddie quickly wrote down the name of the vegan restaurant knowing that her brother would love it.

---

Hen

In the week since they started this group chat Hen and Chimney had been tossing out plenty of outlandish and silly plots to get the boys together, but she knew none of them would actually work. Maddie was working on something involving a restaurant but so far nothing had happened. They needed something so rational and normal that Buck and Eddie wouldn’t even question it. They needed a new tactic so she opened up Operation Idiots In Love and sent off a message.

When did you first realize? >Hen

Chimney< When Buck completely lost it when Eddie was trapped underground

Chimney< dude was clawing at the mud with his bare hands WAILING

Karen< Christmas 2019 he organized that whole dinner so Christopher could spend Christmas with his dad!

Carla< Xmas 2019 for me as well

Athena< When Bobby called Eddie after he stole Chimney’s phone and was nearly arrested.

Karen< Does that mean Bobby knew before then?

Karen< The first time Hen mentioned it to me was when Buck arranged for Christopher to spend the day at the firehouse. Is that when you knew, babe?

Chimney< 🤮 babe

That was the day I called it. The way that Eddie looked at Buck that day nearly knocked me over >Hen

👊🏾👀⚠️>Hen

Maddie< I think I knew for sure after the tsunami. Buck called me, completely wrecked because he didn’t know how to tell Eddie they were there.

Chimney< 🪓💪😙

Chimney< What about you cap?

Bobby< The tsunami was when I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Bobby< No one else saw them after they took that live round out of the guy’s leg in the back of the ambulance. My gut knew then.

Maddie< Wasn’t that Eddie’s first week at the 118????

Chimney< IT WAS!

Bobby< I don’t think they were in love then. But I knew they would end up here.

Bobby< Buck was actually flustered when Eddie complimented him.

“Flustered!” Karen exclaimed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Buck flustered.” Hen gazed down at her wife who was laying across the couch with her head in Hen’s lap. Hen had been absentmindedly playing with Karen’s hair (which Karen loved) and had a few strands wrapped around her knuckles.

Chimney< You know that Eddie got under Buck’s skin that very first day

Chimney< If Buck hadnt been so wrapped up in Abby back then things would be so much easier now

Athena< I hate to say our Buck needed his heart broken, but the heartbreak from Abby certainly helped him get to where he is today.

Athena< We got front row seats to Buck maturing these past few years.

Buck 3.0 🙈🤣🙄 >Hen

Carla< He really has come so far ❤🙌🏼

Maddie, how is your plan coming along? 👀 >Hen

Maddie< So I'm thinking of asking him to meet me at this new trendy vegan restaurant, but I can’t think of a good reason for standing him up and suggesting he go with Eddie 🤔

Karen< He would jump at the chance to try a new vegan restaurant! 🌱🤤

Carla< Oh he would love that, not so sure about Eddie though 🥩

Maddie< Exactly

Chimney< Hes so pretentious

Maddie< Honestly, I figured Eddie would go because Buck asked. But even if he refused Buck would probably pick just another restaurant

Maddie< I just can’t think of a plausible excuse for bailing

Maddie< Buck is too good at telling when I am lying 🤥😔

Chimney< Tell him you’re having contractions! 🤰👶

He would just rush off to the hospital, Chim > Hen

Bobby< He would just want to be at Maddie’s side

Karen< No, he would just want to be there for Maddie

Chimney< Alright, alright, hes too good of a brother for that 🙏

Chimney< 🙄🙄

Hen looked at the time and sighed. “You okay with making dinner, while I do some homework?” she asked.

“Of course, babe,” Karen said, smiling up at her. “Just give me 5 more minutes on the couch with you.”

“Anything for you,” Hen said, leaning down to kiss her wife’s forehead.

---

Chimney

Maddie was at a doctor’s appointment and Chimney, upset at not being able to go and bored at home on his own, invited Buck and Albert to go on a short hike. It was a small trail that had only just opened up after the mudslide, and while Albert was a little disappointed it wasn’t a more difficult trail he at least understood that Buck and Chimney both were hesitant to embark on a long trail with Maddie so close to her due date. The trail was fairly empty so they had taken their masks off, though Chimney was a bit weirded out by how naked he felt without it while in public. With Albert running ahead and out of earshot, Chimney decided it was a good time to ask Buck about his love life.

And naturally- he was incredibly awkward about it.

“So, Buck 3.0?”

“Yeah?”

“Is he gonna dip his toe in the dating pool anytime soon?”

Buck let out a huff of breath, looking down at his feet. “Buck 3.0 is about letting go of the past, but honestly? I still don’t think that I’m really in the right headspace to be dating now. Therapy is helping, but it’s not an overnight process. It’s a lot of work letting go of nearly 30 years of low self esteem and abandonment issues.”

“You’ll get there,” Chim said, clapping Buck on the back. “You’re honestly one of the best people ever, Buck.” Buck looked over at him with a single raised eyebrow. “I will deny it if you tell anyone.” He pointed a finger a Buck for emphasis. “But you are my favorite brother.”

Buck’s face cracked into a brilliant smile and he put his hands over his heart. “Oh, Chim, do you mean it? Really and truly??”

Chimney laughed and gave Buck a shove. “I hope it echoes in your ears for the rest of your life because I’m never repeating it.”

“It’s okay. I’m Albert’s favorite brother too.”

“You are not!”

“And Albert has no problems telling me every time I wash his clothes.”

“You wash his clothes for him! Buck, never, ever give Albert anything he will never be able to take care of himself!”

“I don’t mind the laundry, so I don’t make a big deal about it. I do Eddie’s laundry sometimes too.”

“You do Eddie’s laundry?” Chimney asked, eyebrows raised high above his aviator sunglasses.

“Eddie hates doing laundry, and I mean hates. I’ve been over there while he was switching loads and he was grumbling under his breath the entire time. So sometimes if Eddie lets it pile up for too long I’ll do a couple loads while I’m there.”

“You do Eddie’s laundry?” Chim asked again, eyebrows still raised high. It was actually getting a little painful, so he let them relax and come back down. He couldn’t believe this. How domestic. He was definitely telling that to the group chat.

“Yeah, man, it’s not a big deal. Laundry helps my brain calm down. I focus on the clothes and not on all the negative shit running around up here.” He tapped his temple with his first finger, looking down at his feet again.

There was a couple jogging towards them so the conversation stalled while Chimney and Buck pulled out their masks and put them on.

They were quiet as the couple passed them, nodding in greeting and continuing on their way. When Chimney pulled his mask back off he asked, “So what happened with Eddie and the teacher?”

Buck looked over at him, eyebrows raised again as he tucked his mask into his pocket. “He didn’t really say,” Buck answered.

“He didn’t?” Chim asked. “Doesn’t he, like, tell you everything?”

“Usually. But you know Eddie. He processes things on his own time, and when he’s ready he talks about it. All he would say was that she is the one who ended it and that he wasn’t really that bothered because it was just casual and now he doesn’t have to talk to Christopher about him dating.”

“Christopher would be okay with him dating, though, right?”

“I think he would,” Buck answered. “He is legitimately the best kid I have ever met, and he wants his dad to be happy.” Buck looked at his feet here and Chimney noticed his cheeks were a little more red than before. “Chris told me once he wants his dad to date me.” He chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

Chimney knew this already, because Maddie had told him what Carla said. He was very interested in how red Buck was turning though, another thing to report to the group chat. “Christopher wants you to date his dad?”

"If I date his dad then we can hang out all the time."

"You would love that." Chimney gave Buck a little shove. "Well all know Christopher is your favorite person in the entire world."

"He is," Buck agreed. He shoved Chimney back a little harder so that Chimney veered off the trail briefly. "He's better than you lot by miles."

They were quiet for a moment and Chimney debated whether or not he should ask. In the end his mouth won and he asked, "Would you?" Buck glanced over at Chimney but didn't say anything. "Date Eddie?" he clarified.

Buck turned an alarming shade of red and opened his mouth to respond when they heard Albert call to them.

"What are you two doing?" He was running towards them, sweaty and grinning. "I made it to the end of the trail and halfway back! Pick up your pace!!"

Buck grinned and took off running. Chimney took out his phone and started texting.

---

Athena

May was working, Bobby had run out to the store, and Harry was still staying with Michael so Athena found herself with a rare, quiet evening. She poured herself a glass of wine and headed to the table on the back patio. The Operation Idiots in Love chat she had started had been pretty active that day but Athena hadn’t had the chance to look through it until now. When she was all caught up with Chimney’s discussion with Buck and everyone’s reactions she sent off a “Sounds like they’re already dating…” and placed her phone face down on the table.

Over the years she had come to think of Buck as her step son of sorts and after seeing his heart break so many times, she just wanted him to finally be happy. Athena wasn’t one to believe that a person needed to be in a relationship in order to be happy, but the only time she had seen Buck looking genuinely content and happy was when he was around Eddie.

Plus she had been a cop for 30 years. She was an expert on picking up on the things left unsaid. She had no doubt that both of them wanted something more, but they were both too terrified of being rejected by the person they depend on the most.

Maddie’s plan was half cooked, at least, and Athena didn’t think that it would really work the way that they wanted it to - and not just because Eddie refused to eat vegan.

She was contemplating possible plans when Bobby returned. He dropped the groceries in the kitchen and came outside, hands falling on Athena’s shoulders and dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

“You’re radiating your Sergeant Grant energy,” he said as he pulled out the chair next to her. She just raised her patented Athena Eyebrow at him. “Lay it on me.” Bobby waved a hand between them. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing yet. Just thinking about what could work.”

“For Buck and Eddie?” “Mhmm.” Athena sipped her wine.

“You don’t think they need to get together in their own time? What if whatever ‘Operation’ we all come up with backfires and ruins their relationship?” The air quotes around ‘operation’ were very clear in his tone.

“I think that their relationship, as it is, is strong enough to withstand any sort of awkwardness that we may create if it backfires.” Bobby still looked skeptical. “Look, Buck and Eddie have both been burned in the past. And now they have essentially built their entire lives on top of each other. Co-dependant is how most people would think of it. They’re both terrified of losing each other so neither one of them will ever make the first move. They just need a little nudge. Something to get them both open their damn eyes and look at each other.”

“Okay,” Bobby said, nodding. “We need to keep Chimney and Hen reined in though. They seem to be a little too invested in this.”

“Agreed.”

“How about we have them over for dinner? Just the two of them and the two of us.”

“Mmm a double date?” Athena gave a second, totally different, patented Athena Eyebrow.

“That’s the goal isn’t it?” Bobby stood up pulling out his phone. “I’ll text them.”

“Have it be next Friday,” Athena called. “May will be working late that day.”

“Alright.” Bobby disappeared inside the house and Athena turned back to her wine. She picked up her own phone to text Hen and Michael about the three boys - Harry, Denny, and Christopher - having a much needed sleepover. Harry had been missing his friends since the pandemic started, and if it was just a small group Athena didn’t think they would have to worry too much.

Twenty minutes later Michael was added to Operation Idiots in Love and Athena was texting Eddie to see if Christopher could sleepover Michael’s next Friday.

[lumiereswig]

There’s a ritual to these things, a type of hymn, a kind of summoning in getting the tea to come right, the plates to stand properly, the spoons to shine like river water. Mrs. Potts always does this Sunday mornings, her own kind of private chapel, before the hubbub of where are my eggs and where is my hat and I’ve forgotten where I put my Sunday shoes. Getting the servants to church on a Sunday is like having a very large family; a scullery maid always needs help tying her shoes, another one is running late, and if Lumiere is up before noon everyone counts it a miracle. And church, Mrs. Potts reflects, is all good in its way; the stained glass windows, the bread and story, the people nodding hello as they come and go. But if she has to choose a way to make peace with her world, Mrs. Potts will always choose tea leaves and lace over sermon and prayer. 

She sets out special treats for Sunday mornings, small treasures friends have picked up for her on their travels. A merchant she met in the market once has sent sugared dates and figs in tiny candy-pink boxes written in languages she doesn’t know; an old school chum has packaged up sweetmeats and honey cakes with a little note reminding her of old pranks and jokes. Beatrix sets out cream and milk and sugar, buttered biscuits, raspberries and toffee. It is not the traditional spread her mother would have asked for, but she is pleased with this one she makes herself. The sweets she sets on doilies remind her of her friends, of that great hot world out there, of all the things she does not know.

“Is that—is that Turkish delight?” Cogsworth has come up on her in deadly silence, and Beatrix nearly leaps from her skin. No one has ever shared her ritual before. No one has ever been awake.

And then she sees the way he quivers over the soft sugar, and is about to poke the figs from his excitement, and she realizes he is the only one else in this palace who knows what a proper English tea is supposed to look like. Knows the joys of perfect plates, little spoons, the saucers like the gowns of curtsied ladies, the etiquette of pour and stir and sip.

She looks at him a long moment, eyes half frightened and half certain, and then asks him if he would like to join her.

He’s already sitting down, already whipping his napkin to his lap in a practiced motion, already reaching for the bowls.

“I love these little dates you have,” he says, “I can’t abide those awful squashy cakes they serve at home. Did they ever have those in Yorkshire? My mother insisted we have them, and dry as a bone they were mostly, except for this ridiculous frosting the cook would always add. Hated them. What a delight to see a proper tea.”

“I don’t know if my mother would call it proper,” says Beatrix bashfully, and “Nonsense,” says Cogsworth, “This tea reflects your soul. Hot and welcoming and are those raspberries?” 

They get caught up in the rhythm, Beatrix invoking the heady ritual of one sugar or two?, Henry responding with gleeful abandon a whispered three. Plates are passed, cups are poured, the food is spread and enjoyed with chuckles and murmurs of forbidden joy.

Turkish delights lead to talking, honey cakes to homesickness. They talk about the places they grew up, the English villages and towns, the primroses and misty mornings. Beatrix tells of tidy homes and little jokes; Henry asks after people they might know in common. For a minute, it is Yorkshire in the kitchen.

But then the bell chimes seven, and there is a rustle on the stairs, and the sounds of sleepy people across the palace rising and stretching and yawning and damn’ing and remembering that it is time to get up. With one motion Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts sweep away the feast, knick away the crumbs, until the only sign that there were such marvels as Turkish delight and hot sugared tea in the kitchen is the silver teapot sitting on the window ledge, newly washed and shining like a secret.

Mrs. Potts’s Sunday ritual is a chapel of two, after that. And no longer is the only trace of the great wide world in the cakes she sets out or the candies she eats—now it is in the conversation between her and her friend, as they chew on the world, talking their way towards home.

[generallynerdy]

And what can I do with that but pour another glass (Qui-Gon Jinn & Quinlan Vos)

Summary: Qui-Gon didn’t quite expect for the night to end with Quinlan Vos sitting across the table from him, smiling like a predator at its unsuspecting prey. Apparently, it’s time for them to talk about the fact that Quinlan and Obi-Wan are certainly not in a relationship.

Warnings: Shovel Talks, Threats, Implied Do the Do, Alcohol Word Count: 1,200

Author’s Note: another fic I used a randomizer to get the character line up for. I got Qui-Gon and Quinlan and IMMEDIATELY knew what I was writing LMAO. I ship Obi-Wan with,,,everyone but the good thing about Quinlan is that Qui-Gon fits up into that timeline. Title is from Red Wine Spills by L. Ash Williams.

Read on AO3

*

    When Quinlan Vos knocked on his door, Qui-Gon Jinn knew he was in for a tiring night.

    Obi-Wan left for a study session with Bant, eyeing his friend and his Master curiously, but choosing not to ask questions. Well, ‘friend’ was probably inaccurate.

    Qui-Gon knows for certain that friend is inaccurate, staring at Quinlan, who sits across the table from him. He has a cup of tea, but he isn’t drinking it. Qui-Gon, meanwhile, is on his third cup and is certain he’ll need at least two more before this conversation is tolerable. Quinlan’s predatory smile says it all; he knows exactly what Qui-Gon is thinking and he knows that he’s already exhausted.

    Obi-Wan thinks he’s subtle, but he couldn’t be more wrong. He’s been sneaking off to see Quinlan during the night for weeks and not only is Qui-Gon aware, but Tholme is too, so much so that it’s a regular topic of conversation between the two friends.

    He should’ve known it was coming, really.

    The two boys are both teenagers now, teenagers with hormones and feelings. They’ve always been closer than the rest of their friends, so it’s a long time coming.

    That doesn’t change the fact that Qui-Gon needs something stronger than tea to deal with this conversation.

    “Master Jinn,” Quinlan finally says.

    His tone is sickly sweet, but his smile is all teeth, all vicious.

    It’s the sort of smile that says: “I know that you know I’m sleeping with your Padawan and if you have an issue with that, I’m going to have an issue with you. For the rest of forever.”

    Qui-Gon sighs. “Padawan Vos.”

    They sit in silence for a few more moments.

    “I’m calling your Master,” he says finally.

    The boy shrugs. “You can. We had this conversation last week. He threatened to give me the Talk again and told Obi-Wan that if he hurt me, I probably deserve it.”

    Qui-Gon doesn’t snort, but amusement lingers in his eyes. Tholme does love his Padawan, very much, but the boy is a menace and the best way to deal with him is with copious amounts of both alcohol and sarcasm.

    “And Tholme knows you’re here?”

    “He asked me to record it. I’m not, but that’s only because Obi-Wan would be mad about it.”

    Qui-Gon sighs. “Very well. Say what you need to.”

    Quinlan grins and leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “Obi-Wan’s my boyfriend.”

    They stare at each other for a few more moments.

    “It’s not as if I didn’t know,” Qui-Gon mutters, finishing the last of his tea which leaves a bottomless hope in his heart for another cup, preferably with some kind of alcohol in it. “Anything else?”

    The boy thinks for a second, squinting. “Nope!” he finally declares, all cheer. “Your turn. Tell me how you’ll feed me to your latest stray if I make him cry.”

    Instead of doing that, Qui-Gon gets to his feet and goes around the table to Quinlan’s side, reaching for his abandoned cup. As he leans down-- he’s a giant, it’s not like he can help it-- he puts a hand on Quinlan’s shoulder and squeezes; it’s not enough to hurt, but it is enough to shock him. The Master thinks that he could do with remembering just how big he is, on occasion. Obi-Wan will probably huff at him for weeks after this, but oh well. He has to do it.

    Qui-Gon ducks down to meet Quinlan’s gaze, eyes dark and focused right at him. He knows that Quinlan picked up memories of that mug, memories of him and Obi-Wan, which he thinks is adding to this little show.

    “Quinlan Vos,” he says lowly, passive in a way that’s more threatening than any growl could ever be, “I am a firm believer in the will and power of the Force, but trust me when I say that if you so much as bruise Obi-Wan Kenobi...I will put the fear of god in you.”

    He lingers just long enough to watch Quinlan swallow roughly, then sweeps up the mug and moves to the kitchen.

    Fifteen seconds later, he finds himself smiling at the sound of rapid footsteps and a closing door.

    Well.

    At least he took it seriously.

    Later, when Obi-Wan storms in, Qui-Gon thankfully does have something a little stronger in his mug. He’s glad at least that his Padawan is too distressed to pay attention to it or the blinking of his wrist comm unit, which he quickly buries in the sleeve of his robe. 

    “Master, what did you do?” The boy asks, attempting to be demanding though it comes out more begging than anything. 

    (Obi-Wan has never been good at being defiant, something Qui-Gon is increasingly grateful for.)

    “What did I do?” Qui-Gon echoes, slipping into that false ‘venerated Master’ facade.

    The boy huffs. “Master! Quinlan was terrified!”

    He raises a doubtful eyebrow. “He told you that?”

    His amusement doubles when Obi-Wan’s expression falls and his cheeks go red. He shifts on his feet uneasily. “No,” he mumbles. “But I can tell!”

    They both knew very well that Quinlan Vos was hardly one to admit to fear unless in private, much less a fear of Qui-Gon Jinn. He would give a great big smile and wave you off, then be panicking two minutes later. Obi-Wan, however, was very good at reading his fellow Padawan, some days even better than Bant, who was a literal empath.

    “Padawan Vos and I simply had a conversation, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon says finally. “If you really want to know what we talked about, you should ask him.”

    The Master-Padawan pair share considering looks.

    Qui-Gon isn’t going to give in, that he knows. Obi-Wan doesn’t need more reasons to be upset with him.

    Finally, Obi-Wan sighs and turns on his heel, storming to his room for the night.

    The moment he’s gone, Qui-Gon pulls his sleeve away from his wrist and presses a button on his comm to reveal a blue hologram of his first Padawan.

    Feemor is cackling, which dissolves into wheezing after a minute.

    “You’re a terrible brother-Padawan,” Qui-Gon remarks dryly, taking another sip of his not-tea.

    When Feemor finally catches his breath, he wipes away tears. “And you’re a terrible Master! You never did that to any of my boyfriends,” he snorts.

    He rolls his eyes. “You never dated Quinlan Vos.”

    “Fair enough.”

    Qui-Gon squints, already able to see his former Padawan’s cogs turning. He smiles. “I can hear you thinking from here, Feemor. What is it?”

    “I only wonder if Padawan Vos fully comprehended your threat.”

    He grins, vicious and gleeful. Feemor is just as looming a figure as Qui-Gon, if not monumentally more intimidating because of his complete access to the archives and ability to make a person disappear from the galaxy in less than 15 seconds. It would be nice to remind Quinlan that Qui-Gon is far from the only one in Obi-Wan’s lineage with a lightsaber and an overblown sense of justice.

    “Obi-Wan will be furious,” he says, as if that’s changing his decision at all.

    Feemor crosses his arms, a victorious smirk upon his face. “Well then, I’ll just have to make sure he isn’t around, won’t I?”

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

[andormeddows]

A night at the opera ::: John Deacon (I)

Pairing: Fem!Reader x John Deacon

Requested: Yes! Anon, if you’re reading this, I would love to know if you liked it or not!

Summary: The reader is a very talented opera singer, but the company she’s at makes her feel bad about her weight, because she has a bigger bust than most others do. She gets fitted for a dress which causes her to feel insecure about its extreme cleavage and John reminds her how perfect she is and how much he loves her frame. Fluff!

Word count: 3432

Warnings: None, I guess?

Notes: See what I did with the title? Sorry, it just had to be done! Also, guys, I know nothing about how Freddie and John walked around London, so I tried to picture… I don’t even know if people would run for then if they ever saw them on the streets. Sorry, I don’t know. I also had to do some research about opera in general, hope I could get its essence. I pictured 80′s Deacy while writing this one. Anyway, I hope you like it! I loved this request! Feedback is always appreciated!

Part 2 is here!

Masterlist is here!

The scenery changed on the upstage as the opera overture rehearsal ended. The screeching of the sheaves echoed as ropes were fiercely pulled. Musicians, accommodated in the orchestra pit below the stage, hurriedly reorganized sheet music. Artists packed the offspring wings, including you, awaiting the orchestra cue for their entrance.

However, as soon as you noticed your colleagues looking sideways at your costume, you timidly hurried away from the crowded offspring to the backstage. As always, they weren’t exactly admiring your costume, but vilifying you for the extreme cleavage made visible by it.

“It seems costume designers measured YN’s bust wrongly once again,” Tina murmured to Dermot, simpering at her own ruthless words.

Being an utterly talented opera singer had never characterized you amongst your colleagues. In fact, it had always been unimportant after being hired by the company. Since the first day, comments have been whispered regarding your bust, bigger than average, causing you to feel insecure about your weight. It had never been a preoccupation, but, after accidentally listening to ballerinas shrieking with laughter backstage while teasing your presentation because of your costume, doubts emerged.

“YN! It’s your cue!”

Astoundingly blinking, the director’s voice dragged you back to your senses. The artists on the stage silently whined, rolling eyes at the director’s command to restart the act. Once again, people gathered on the offspring wings.

“Can you get this right?” Tina questioned irritated, voice exploding with sarcasm. “We’re debuting tonight, love.”

As the orchestra restarted the music, people reached the stage. Ballerinas moved across the upstage according to the choreography as extras reached their positions, silently acting. Gulping, you obliged your legs to move, dragging your body to the stage center, where a spotlight had been focused. Your hands tightly gripped at the skirt, slightly pulling it upwards.

In his apartment, at the very time your voice echoed around the theatre, John sighed. His luggage lay untouched by the apartment door. The Game Tour had been over for five days. He refused to unpack until his mind accepted the fact that the chaotic, but marvelous, months spent playing bass around the world were over.

Drafts of unfinished songs lay over the coffee table, whether being written on tour or during boredom-filled hours at his apartment. Underneath the mess, lay two tickets accompanied by a short letter. Your letter. John smiled, sitting on the leather armchair and pulling it towards him. He would never mistake your slanting handwriting for any other on Earth.

God, he had missed you. Being away from home for such a long time without being able to call you for weeks in a row had its effect on him. He missed spending afternoons with you listening to old records. He missed the nights you would spend at his apartment as he wrote songs, bass propped on his laps while he repeatedly played melodies. He missed going for late night walks around the city, stopping by coffee shops to buy any hot beverage. He missed visiting you on the opera house, where he would explore its backstage and all its magical, yet slightly messy, environment. He missed hearing your angelic singing around your apartment. He missed seeing your laugh, how your face would lovely contort into a smile and lit up with such happiness.

He missed you. Absentmindedly chuckling at his thoughts, he took a sip from a steaming mug of tea in one of his hands as he reread the letter. He couldn’t wait to see you.

Deacy,

I could have called you, but it would definitely spoil the surprise. Since I already had to send the tickets, I decided to write a letter as well. Honestly, I wish I could pay you a visit and hand you them myself, but we have been rehearsing non-top for the past two weeks. A new opera, in which I got the leading role, will be debuting a few days after you’re back from tour. It would mean the world to me if you came to watch it! The problem is I only got two tickets, so I cannot invite all of the boys, which is rather shitty .Would you, please, apologize to them in the name of myself? I’m sending both of the tickets anyway in case one of them wishes to come along. I miss you! Love you.

Yours always,

YN.

Hurriedly drinking the remaining tea, John winced as the hot beverage burned his throat. He abandoned the mug on the coffee table, reaching for the telephone table. He dialed Freddie’s number, anxiously listening to the telephone beeping.

“That’s Freddie. Yes?”

“It’s Deacy, Freddie,” John excitedly answered, fiercely gripping at the handset and pressing it against his ear. “Would you fancy accompanying me to an opera tonight? YN’s debuting in it as leading role and sent me two tickets.”

“Is she?” Freddie smiled at John’s words. “God, I would love to.”

When the starry sky shone above London, John giddily pulled his black leather jacket hanging by the apartment door before leaving his apartment, tickets held tightly in his hands. Freddie’s Rolls Royce parked by the sidewalk on the other side of the street. John’s body shivered, buffeted by the wintry wind as he crossed the street.

“Hurry up, Deacy! We should never be late for the rise of a star.”

John got in the car, putting the seatbelt on and receiving a gleeful smile from Freddie. The city lights shone as they crossed London. John observed people on the sidewalks, overcoats and boots packed the streets as winter approached, showing its first signs.

The driver pulled by the opera house, cars parked in front of it. Occasionally, horns would echo accompanied by the shouting of irritated drivers. Freddie’s Rolls Royce lost between many other cars parked by the other side of the large street.

John and Freddie hurriedly crossed the street as people gathered at the opera house entrance, tickets held tight between their fingers. John pulled the pink tickets out of his jacket pocket, reading them in order to find the right section entrance.

“She got box five reserved for us,” John mused, heart inexplicably racing at his own words.

“She must love us, then. I mean, you. I’m just your humble guest, dear,” Freddie answered pressing his lips in a thin line to prevent a smile from crossing his lips as John absentmindedly stopped walking, mesmerized by your gesture. “Shall we get inside?”

After entering the vast theatre and accommodating himself in box five beside Freddie, his eyes wandered to the stage. The heavy red and gold curtains were closed, revealing a tiny stripe of the dark wooden floor. Several musicians sat in the orchestra pit tuning their instrument so that it sounded perfectly. The painted ceiling bore a gigantic chandelier. John’s eyes focused on it, mesmerized by its beauty as though bewitched by it. Its excessive golden details shone magically under its bright tiny yellow lamps. His peripheral vision registered painted naked angels around it, holding harpies as though praising the chandelier.

“This is marvelous,” he whispered.

“Everything about an opera house is marvelous, dear. I’m actually glad to be here,” Freddie answered, observing his surroundings.

John watched the people moving below, crossing the theater looking for the correct seats before averting his gaze to the leaflet received at the entrance in his hands. It presented information about the opera, listing its acts. The following pages announced every artist participating in it along with their roles. A black and white picture of you in one of your costumes of the show occupied a whole page, a brief text present you, your career as an opera singer and your role in the debuting show.

The constant noise of conversation reached their ears as the seats were gradually being taken by the public. John couldn’t suppress the smile that crossed his lips. He felt proud of you it would actually be an understatement to say it. A full house would witness the rise of a star.

After the sounding of the alarm, a masculine voice politely asked for people to accommodate themselves before warning that any recordings of the show were strictly prohibited. The lights slightly diminished, the lamps of the chandelier shone feebly as a spotlight focused in the middle of the apron. The opera director announced its start, presenting you as the opera diva. John whistled loudly as the roar of people clapping filled his ears. He felt his heart would burst in pride.

The heavy red and gold curtains were slowly opened, revealing a magnificent scenario as the orchestra started playing, the classic music echoing in the perfect acoustic arrangement of the theater. As earlier during the last rehearsal, artists packed the offspring wings, including you, awaiting the orchestra cue for their entrance. The costumes were now properly worn, the makeup and different hairstyles done meticulously.

You exhaled in nervousness,   averting your gaze up to the stage ceiling packed with ropes and sheaves. Your voice would certainly fail. Where you good enough for the leading role, anyway? You would certainly stumble over the dress skirt. People would laugh at your costume for showing too much.

The sudden thought of John witnessing your failure caused you to feel dizzy. Should you have invited him? Your cheeks acquired a light shade of red underneath the makeup, shame creeping up your veins. A mirror stood beside your anxious figure. Your eyes unwillingly averted to your reflection on it. That costume was ridiculously tight. Had costume designers measured your bust wrongly as Tina had suggested? The extreme cleavage made visible by that dress utterly annoyed you.

“Don’t lose your cue, YN,” Dermot teased, being followed by some other artists.

“Oh, shut up, loser,” you mumbled irritated, crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes at his strutting to the edge of the offspring.

“We shall see who the loser is at the end of the performance, yeah?”

“Prick,” you whispered at him.

The overture was over, the scenery changed on the upstage. Music still played as people reached the stage. At a particular high note reached by the violinists, you obliged your legs to move, managing to straighten up your face. The nervous expression was replaced by an adorable smile as you graciously reached the stage center. A spotlight shone above you, illuminating your figure in an angelic manner.

John’s eyes accompanied your movement through the stage. Your willowy figure angelic illuminated by the spotlight caused his heart to miss a beat. No other goddess would be as stunning as you. God, he could admire your costume for the rest of life.

“Oh, fuck, John,” Freddie murmured beside John, mesmerized by your figure. “She’s a goddess.”

“She’s more than a goddess, Freddie,” John replied, hanging on the edge of his seat, intending to stand near the box handrail.

On the stage, you obliged the negative thoughts filling your mind to hit the back of it. No benefit would be gained by dwelling on them. Taking a discrete deep breath, moving in a regal manner, you opened your mouth intending to start singing as the orchestra hit another cue.

John’s eyes brimmed with tears of joy as your magnificent singing filled the theater, engulfing it in a magical moment. He gripped the velvety box handrail as he watched you transform the whole atmosphere of the place. Intense shivers wandered through his body, causing him to smile at the sensation.

Freddie excitedly watched your figure. His eyes attentively recorded every move of your hands and arms. He had never seen a more pleasing body language. He, then, averted his gaze to your mouth and throat. He could practically see your vocal chords working to produce those angelic sounds.

Ballerinas surrounded you. Your dress shone below the spotlight, sparkles occasionally reaching people’s eyes. Your hair combed into an elegant bun, filled with minuscule silver flowers, caught John’s attention in a second. A few strands of hair framed your features. Oh, what a marvelous sight.

After two hours of incredible singing, acting and dancing, applauses exploded through the theater as people eagerly stood up. The cast bowed, smiles all over their faces. John whistled loudly once again, clapping non-stop.

The artists left the stage, leaving you alone. A spotlight focused in the middle of the apron, to where you paced. Another round of applauses exploded. A genuine smile crossed your lips as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. After the amount of whistles, applauses and praising at your debut in a leading role, you wished your talent would be recognized by the company, who, up to that moment, vilified you for the extreme cleavage made visible by the dresses you wore.

Your eyes observed the crowd, averting to the right of the theater, where box five could be seen. You had obliged yourself not to glance at it during the whole show, afraid that John would have given up on you. But there you saw him, smiling and clapping eagerly. A silent laugh escaped from your lips as your eyes landed on him. Freddie stood beside John, equally clapping. A few tears streamed down your cheeks at their reaction towards your performance.

“Magnifica!” Freddie bellowed at you.

The director reached the stage once again, taking your hand in his and flashing you a proud smile. Both of you bowed together, earning another round of applauses. You stepped back as the red and gold curtains started to be pulled closed by the staff. The roar of the crowd was muffled by it, the applauses never seemed to cease.

Once Freddie and John reached the agitated street, John pulled Freddie to the staff entrance intending to wait for you to leave the theater. It took a while until you managed to shimmy out of your costume. Your dressing room had been filled with bouquets, a flowery smell filled the air as Harper helped you undress.

Quickly thanking him for helping, you left the dressing room, crossing the theater corridors in order to reach the staff exit. You smiled at the security guard at the door, who kindly opened the door for you. As soon as the cold night air buffeted your body, your eyes wandered through the street.

“YN! YN!”John’s voice echoed from a few meters on the grey sidewalk.

You ran to his arms, letting your body collapse against his. His arms embraced you in a tight lasting hug as he pressed kisses to the side of your head. Strands of your hair hit his face because of the wind, but he smiled. You were there.

“God, I missed you!” you mumbled against John’s shirt. “I missed you so much! Where’s Freddie?”

“Hm, he left already. He apologized for having to leave without complimenting you, tough,” John nervously answered, Freddie’s words echoing in his mind before leaving — “I guess I’m leaving, John. I’m sure you both need some time alone, yeah?”

You timidly smiled. “Hm… This is actually…” you gulped, averting your eyes to your hands propped on his chest, almost reaching his shoulders. “What do you think of spending the night at my apartment, John?”

He chuckled nervously. “Wouldn’t you like to rest? I mean… I’d love to, but…”

“Don’t worry. It wouldn’t bother me at all, you know?”

John nodded, fingers anxiously pressing against your waist. Your eyes bore into his, another timid smile plastered over your lips. You blinked a few times as strands of your hair hit your face. “Thank you.”

John asked for a taxi, opening the door for you with a gentle smile. The ride was silent, but John’s fingers timidly crossed the leather seat looking for yours. Your heart missed a beat as he hesitantly tangled them together, causing you to press your lips in a thin line as anticipation hit your body. It was a normal gesture for a friend, wasn’t it?

“You looked like an angel tonight, YN,” John murmured. You shook your head, smiling at his kind words. However, they weren’t enough to erase your insecurities.

“John…” you started unsure. “I actually need to talk to you about something.”

John gulped, the gentle grip on your fingers momentarily faltering as the taxi driver pulled by your apartment. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No. No, of course not,” you rushed to reply. “This is actually about me.”

You quickly handed the taxi driver the money, thanking him before leaving the car. John followed you, a concerned look on his features.

“What’s wrong, YN?” he anxiously asked while closing the backseat door.

You shook your head, reaching the sidewalk. You both entered the block of apartments as you fumbled with the keys inside your overcoat pocket. You unlocked the door to your apartment and entered first, turning some of the lights on. John couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your apartment. He missed it.

“I… I don’t know how I should start this,” you admitted, reaching the kitchen and pulling the fridge door open. “It’s actually ridiculous, but it’s been bugging me for a while.”

John anxiously waited for you to continue as he followed you into the kitchen. You offered him a beer bottle before resting against one of the counters and chugging a glass of cold water down. You tried to work out the words inside your mind. Nervousness filled your body. Should you talk about how insecure you felt towards it? By talking about it, you would oblige him to notice your body if he had never done that before. Wouldn’t it be awkward?

“Hm, YN…” John started, crossing the narrow kitchen towards you. He propped the beer bottle on the counter, next to your empty glass of water. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I know I spent a long time away, but I hope it didn’t change our friendship?”

You could notice an insecure tone in his voice, desperately shaking your head. “No, God. John, it would never happen. Nothing can change our friendship. It’s just that… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable talking about it.”

He shook his head, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “Go on, try me.”

You chuckled at his words, fondly gazing at him. However, you soon averted your gazed to his chest. “I haven’t been feeling comfortable with my body lately. I joined this opera company probably a month after you left for the tour, you know? Since then, I’m feeling self-conscious about my image. They fit me into tight dresses that end up showing too much.”

“Too much, YN? It’s a dress, nothing more than a costume.”

You sighed frustrated. “That’s exactly the problem. It’s a dress! Most of them make extreme cleavage, John… It actually makes me feel uncomfortable. I see other girls walking around the stage in similar costumes and I… I feel I’m overweight. They fit perfectly into their dresses…”

“Look at me, YN…” John whispered, taking another sip from his beer. A loving gaze lit his features as his hands slowly caressed your upper arms. “You’re perfect.”

“John, cut the bullshit,” you retorted, sighing in frustration once again.

“YN, I mean it,” he replied. “Why would compare yourself to those other girls? Weren’t you the one who admired all shapes and forms, praising people for being who they are? Why don’t you celebrate yourself either?”

“John…”

“No, wait,” he whispered, pacing closer towards you. His delicate fingers reached for your chin. “I mean every single word. What’s wrong with having a bigger bust than others do? Did it ever prevent you from following your dreams? Did it stop you from achieving the bloody leading role in an opera? For God’s sake, YN… Do you how proud I am of you? I almost collapsed in tears seeing you on that stage. Please, listen to me when I say you’re perfect. I believe these words don’t dictate beauty patterns in no circumstances: how many different people say these words to other different ones? Believe in me when they leave my lips.”

You gulped, blinking fast as your eyes brimmed with tears. “God…”

John silently laughed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your hands reached for his, still on your chin. Your eyes bore into his. For a moment, both of you silently stood close to each other. Your mind still absorbed his meaningful words, which, honestly, were the only ones that mattered.

“You’re perfect, YN,” he repeated it, pressing kisses all over your face while murmuring the words against your skin, causing you to laugh and squeal under his touch. “I’m repeating it until you believe in its meaning.”

Part 2 is here!

[littlerose13writes]

The First Five Years: 2000

31st December, 2000

“Do you think I’ll need more than one swimsuit?” Ginny called out to her boyfriend who was in the kitchen, making coffee and softly humming to himself. He didn’t immediately respond and Ginny stared dejectedly at the half full trunk sat atop her bed, a swimsuit in each hand, her red hair pulled into a gradually unravelling top knot.

Ginny hated packing. It was almost her least favourite thing to do, topped only by unpacking.

As she knelt on their bed, her socked feet almost causing her to slide off the small space not occupied by the trunk, her back was to the doorway but she heard Harry’s footsteps enter the room behind her. She dropped both the swimsuits down on the bed.

“How about no swimsuit?” his low voice sounded in her ear as he snaked an arm around her from behind, placing a cup of hot coffee into her hand and giving her hip a squeeze. He was shirtless, his firm, Auror-trained torso pressing into her back, only the thin fabric of Ginny’s tshirt between their skin to skin contact.

“Oi! No time.” Ginny accepted the coffee gratefully, gesturing to her mess of a half-packed trunk, as Harry pressed a fleeting kiss to her cheek.

“S'always time.” Harry murmured into her neck, pressing more kisses down as he went. His hair was loose, falling over his shoulder and tickling Ginny’s collarbone as he moved, his arm now joined by the other, holding her body against his. Ginny knew that Harry knew she couldn’t resist him when he did that.

Ginny leant forward, coffee cup first, and Harry loosened his grip for a second to let her reach the bedside table and place the scalding hot coffee down. As she moved back towards him, this time facing her boyfriend’s smouldering eyes, he encircled his arms around her again. She was still kneeling on the bed and Harry was standing, making their usual height difference much less noticeable. It made their kiss slightly awkward for the first few seconds, both of them adjusting to the difference in height, and Ginny was forcibly reminded of the first time she had ever kissed Harry in the Gryffindor Common Room.

“Harry, I really need to pack.” Ginny groaned, forcing herself to pull away. “We leave tomorrow.”

“Details.” Harry said in an off-handed way.

“Y'know, if you help me, it could be done well before Andromeda arrives.” She gave him a suggestive smirk and Harry’s eyes brightened as he eventually pulled his arms from her.

“Ok so you need these?” he grabbed the two abandoned swimsuits and, without waiting for Ginny to respond, threw them into the trunk before pacing across to their open, shared wardrobe and grabbing an item of clothing on a hanger without looking at it. “How about this?”

He made to throw the item into the trunk in the same way he had the swimsuits but was stopped by Ginny, who had clambered off the bed and took hold of his forearms, shaking with laughter.

“Harry, that’s yours.” She gestured to the garment, specifically the small logo on the top right corner and the words Auror Training Academy. Harry glanced at it, noticing for the first time what he’d picked up, and grinned down at her.

“Well, I suppose I won’t be needing this anymore. You can have it.” He started to fold the tshirt up carefully.

“You’re still an Auror in training when we’re away.” Ginny said as she crossed to the wardrobe too and retrieved a pile of socks.

“Yes, but Robards isn’t going to know if I’m in uniform when I’m completing my assignments is he?” Harry teased her, starting to straighten out some of the messy pile already in the trunk.

Ginny added the socks to the pile Harry was folding and lightly touched his arm. “I so can’t wait to get my revenge on you for all of those times you distracted me from revising for my O.W.Ls.”

“Gin, you got Os and Es in everything.” Harry sighed.

“Precisely. Imagine how well I could have done without your bad influence.” She lightly smacked him as he snorted with laughter at her comment. “Will you go and get my training kit from the laundry please?”

Harry left the room as Ginny took over, turning the mess into something resembling a packed suitcase, periodically sipping coffee. Harry’s packed trunk stood leant against the wall where he’d finished it the night before. Bloody Aurors and their need to be so prepared.

“Is this all of it?” Harry’s voice sounded a bit muffled as he re-entered the room, his wand levitating a pile of Harpies kit in front of him. He trained his wand on the pile to gracefully lower it into the trunk and Ginny saw that it was all four sets of her training kit, lovingly folded neatly with the Holyhead Harpies logo at the top of each.

“I bloody love you.” She pulled him to her and Harry looked very pleased with himself as he accepted the kiss Ginny planted on his cheek.

The packing took considerably less time with both of them and was considerably more enjoyable when Ginny found herself rewarded with kisses after each addition to the case. When it was finally filled, Harry waved his wand to move the case from the bed to stand against the wall beside his own and pulled Ginny down onto the now empty bed next to him.

Harry checked his watch and grinned at her. “Do we have time?”

Ginny wriggled closer to him and placed a hand on his warm chest, the other playing with his long, dark hair. “S'always time.”

Their small London flat was the only one in the muggle building to have a fireplace and that was because they’d needed to install one when they moved in to travel to work everyday. It had been a requirement when they had been looking for a place together but they soon realised it was going to be harder than they’d thought to find somewhere to live which they both loved and which had a fireplace. Arthur Weasley had helped fast track their paperwork to install a magical fireplace in a muggle flat and so far, only one nosy, muggle neighbour had commented on the sound of roaring flames but no chimney.

The fireplace in question gently glowed green, an indication that someone was about to floo in, and sure enough, the green flames grew tall as Harry skidded into the open plan living room in delight, Ginny not far behind him.

Andromeda Tonks busied herself first with brushing the soot from the small boy in her arms who was squirming to be put down immediately. She sighed and gave in, lowering him to the ground and straightening up to brush her own soot covered shoulders.

“Hawwy!” the little boy cried as he hurtled into Harry’s waiting arms with a shriek of delight. Harry lifted him up with ease and swung him onto his hip, where the little boy nuzzled into Harry’s neck, his hair shifting to match Harry’s dark strands.

“When did you get to be such a big boy, Ted?” Harry asked him in mock surprise and Teddy giggled.

“I two!” he said proudly, holding up two fingers to show Harry.

“Tea, Andromeda?” Ginny asked as she took the older lady’s coat and siphoned off the rest of the soot with her wand.

“Yes please, dear. Here, I’ll help.” She followed Ginny to the kitchen counter and fetched mugs.

“How have you been?” Harry approached behind them, Teddy still sat on his hip and happily playing with his loose hair.

“Oh fine, fine.” Andromeda replied, placing tea bags into each mug. She passed them to Ginny to fill with hot water. “Are you both excited?”

Ginny shared a look with Harry and they both grinned at each other. Ginny finished making the tea and carried the mugs over to the table, gesturing for Andromeda to sit down. Harry joined her, Teddy sat on his lap.

“Where first?” Andromeda asked, sipping her tea.

“California.” Ginny replied with a grin. “First month is mainly training for me, the American season starts later than here, but the first match is early February. Harpies v Monterey Marmots.”

“You’ll flatten them.” Harry said proudly. “I’ve been offered training time with the American ministry Aurors too.” Harry explained.

“How lovely! Now, are you both absolutely sure about tonight? It’s not too late to say no, I can cancel. Molly will understand. It is New Year’s Eve and I’m sure you young people have a better offer.” Andromeda spoke as Ginny handed Teddy a biscuit and sat beside her boyfriend. Teddy gave her a gleeful look and stuffed the biscuit into the side of his mouth, sucking on it happily.

“No, no! You go and enjoy yourself, it’s no trouble at all.” Ginny told her quickly.

“Besides, we’ll miss this little scamp when we’re away. It’ll be nice to have a quiet new year for once.” Harry said, tickling Teddy under the chin. “He won’t forget us will he? A year is a long time when you’re only two.” Harry asked, suddenly worried.

“It won’t be a year! We’ll see him on his birthday and then again in May and probably August and definitely November.” Ginny corrected quickly, sharing in Harry’s worries.

“And we’ve got the mirrors too.” Andromeda reminded them. “I don’t think Teddy will let me forget about those. He points at the cupboard where he knows I keep it and shouts ‘Hawwy Ginny!’ until I take it out.”

Harry laughed as Teddy stood up on his knees, allowing Harry to hold both his hands and bounce him up and down. The little boy’s dark hair shifted to a glossy red and he reached for Ginny with both arms (still attached to Harry’s hands). Ginny obliged and took Teddy from Harry’s lap onto her own. Harry used the opportunity to tie his hair back and out of Teddy’s reach.

“I’ve put everything he needs in the bag but if you need me I can come right back. He’s had his dinner but he needs a bath before bed.” Andromeda had finished her tea and was checking her watch.

“We’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Harry said soothingly as he stood to collect her coat and see her out. Ginny followed, carrying Teddy. “Have a great time!”

“Bye Teddy, see you tomorrow.” Andromeda gave him a kiss and stepped into the fireplace.

“Bye Gwandma!” Teddy responded cheerfully, waving his chubby hand at her retreating figure. The green flames engulfed her and she span away.

“Gwandma gone home, Teddy stay wiv Hawwy Ginny.” Teddy summarised into the silence, nodding in a matter of fact way at Ginny, his hair still Weasley red. “Teddy play now?” he asked, squirming to be put down.

The clock on the mantelpiece struck 7 o'clock as Harry retrieved Teddy’s toy chest from the corner of the room and Ginny put the toddler down and sank onto the sofa. He waddled over to select a toy and was soon gripped with a hippogriff in each hand, making them fly so haphazardly that they collided with each other several times.

Watching Harry play with his Godson made Ginny’s heart burst with admiration for him. There was no doubt in her mind that Harry would make a perfect father one day. She squashed this thought quickly and left the room, calling to Harry that she was going to run Teddy’s bath.

He appeared a few minutes later, the sound of the running water almost drowning out Teddy’s delighted squeals. Teddy loved being given a bath which was a constant source of annoyance to Bill, whose daughter Victoire screamed the place down every time.

Harry undressed Teddy and placed him in the bath tub where the little boy happily splashed around, his hair now a shade of white-blonde. He dutifully allowed Ginny to wash his hair and gasped joyfully when Harry made rainbow bubbles appear from the end of his wand, reaching out to grab as many as possible.

“Do you reckon all babies are this easy to babysit?” Ginny asked as Harry lifted Teddy out of the bath tub and wrapped him snugly in a towel.

“Hmm, ask Bill.” Harry replied as he carried Teddy to the spare bedroom where Ginny had laid his pyjamas out. She dressed Teddy and sat down on the bed while Harry tidied the bathroom (Teddy’s splashes had become rather enthusiastic). She watched him roll around giggling, chasing the moving snitch pattern on the bedspread Harry had insisted on buying for his Godson.

Harry appeared in the doorway and gave her a knowing look; Ginny quickly tried to rearrange her features.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Harry said quietly, as he joined her on the bed and they both watched Teddy play silently for a few minutes.

“Only a bit.” Ginny admitted, accepting the arm he placed around her and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I am too.” He replied, leaning his head atop hers.

“It’s not as if there’s anything to be upset about.” Ginny reasoned aloud, with herself more than anything. “We can’t miss what we didn’t have.”

“We can miss what we thought we had.” Harry responded gently and Ginny knew he was thinking about how they’d felt for a whole month; scared, overwhelmed, completely and utterly unprepared but also filled with joy and love. It had been a difficult bereavement to come to terms with all of those feelings, only to discover Ginny’s pregnancy symptoms had been nothing more than a side effect of her new potion.

“But this way we can do it properly.” Ginny said, repeating the conversation they had already had countless times. She found it comforting to say the words again and she knew Harry did too.

“When we’re both really ready.” Harry responded, like it was a script.

“And you’ve qualified as an Auror.”

“And you’ve won the league.”

“And I’ve learnt to cook something other than toast.”

It helped, repeating these affirmations. It was a reminder for the couple that they would experience that feeling one day, and it would be real. The sheer terror she had initially experienced hadn’t gone away but it was made so much better with Harry’s words and actions of support. They hadn’t planned it and wouldn’t have chosen to do it so soon, but something about his reassurance made her sure they could have done it.

“One day.” Harry smiled and cuddled Teddy into the both of them. Ginny was so full of love in that moment she thought she might cry.

<<< Read 1999

>>> Read 2001