#Congratulations Balloon Bouquet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bobluvbot · 7 months ago

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late night cravings

pairing: sirius black x afab!reader summary: you sneak off the night for a cheeky midnight snack, hoping sirius won’t notice (spoiler alert: he does, and he’s sulky about it) wc: 4k cw: pregnancy & baby talk, descriptions of food and eating, brief allusions to sex (not directly stated), no physical traits of reader specified but sirius can hold things out of reader’s reach a/n: so i had a lengthy angst fic for sirius’s debut on my blog and im halfway done on it but i cant seem to finish it bc it sends me to a depressing spiral each time <33333 so pls enjoy a very self-indulgent domestic excessively fluffy blurb with my beloved <33333 p.s this is not proofread so plz ignore mistakes ty <3

opening the tomato salsa jar turned out to be the hardest part.

back in bed, you thought the trickiest part of your late night escapade from sirius black was his long limbs wound up tight with yours, even in low light of the small nightlight in the corner, you could still make out the intricate script and designs following the curves and dips of his strong arms, holding you close to his chest.

you had it committed to memory by now, having explored sirius’s body well enough to memorize the way his skin feels against yours, with heartbeats and breaths falling in sync without much effort.

judging by the way his breathing gets heavy after every exhale and the little snores that escape in between, you knew he was beyond knackered. it was day five of sirius’s new job as an deputy director at the auror office. the day he learned about the promotion was pure unadulterated happiness. after letting you know through an express owl, you mustered up enough vigor available to your seven months pregnant self to get out of the house and go to the local shops to get party supplies and food to celebrate sirius’s achievement.

Coming in third out of the list of things he genuinely loved in this life, after you and his luscious locks of course, was his job as an auror. young sirius had never thought in his wildest dreams that he’d work at the ministry, much less actually enjoy it. can’t really blame sixteen year old sirius, starting an underground rock band with the marauders seemed like the perfect thing to do after gruelling hours of studying at hogwarts.

defense against the dark arts came to him naturally, with some counterspells like second nature to him as being exposed with use of dark magic young gave him no choice but to grow up quickly and defend himself from the excruciating pain or the mind control that was from his own family’s doing. Winning the first wizarding war alongside his friends and found family has solidified sirius’s calling in eradicating the use of dark magic and making sure the next generation can have a safe and normal life without the looming threat of a megalomaniac sorting people with their blood status and taking over the wizarding world.

that night, sirius walked into a dark and eerily quiet home that had his senses on overdrive. but when the lights turned on and he saw familiar faces of his loved ones all beaming with pride, and there you were in the center, looking ethereal and round and all his, with his favorite red velvet cake on hand and a ridiculously big balloon that says “congratulations” tied to the candle, he could have melted in a syrupy mess of gooey happiness right then and there if he hadn’t caught himself together last minute.

Sirius had thought– that after you agreeing to go on one date with him to hogsmeade, winning the quidditch cup and seeing the proud look on minerva’s face, going home for christmas break and euphemia welcoming him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, remus teaching at the very same classroom you all were in years back, james and lily’s first kiss at the altar, holding little baby harry in his arms, you walking down the aisle with a bouquet of peonies in the most beautiful dress, and when you held his hand that one night and told him that you were expecting—- that he knew of love. but you do something extraordinary that has him scrambling to add to the endless list of why you’re the love of his life. he was so focused on you that he wasn’t prepared to catch pure muscle of james’s body as he flung himself to tackle his best friend in a hug. luckily, remus with a party hat was aptly standing between a toppling sirius and the living room wall, and he singlehandedly saved the two from creating a huge hole in the drywall.

this was the life, sirius had thought after many hours of partying celebrating and eating, when he laid beside you in bed, limbs tangled, sated and dizzy and warm as you both came down from your highs. and he gets to spend it with you.

but as fun and exciting sirius’s new job is, it entailed an increased amount of responsibility as he was assisting the head auror. his least favorite part of the job was the boatloads of paperwork he has to deal with. An express owl almost dropped a howler letter into the soup you were making for dinner earlier that day and you opened it up panicking thinking it was an emergency. But no, it was just sirius whining that his hand hurt and is about to fall off and that he needs you to kiss it better.

You did eventually, and one thing led to another and here you were, tucked in your husband’s warm embrace. you could stay here forever, only separating to drink water and bathroom trips, but the gnawing urge to eat something savory, sweet, tangy, and crunchy has possessed your entire being, the only way to quell it was to get up and go to the kitchen. the baby doesn’t seem to have a semblance of time yet, a fact you both envied and despised, because the clock on your nightstand said it was 3:48am in bold red numbers. A few months ago, you’d never be caught dead awake at this time, taking your precious sleep time seriously. The man himself would poke fun at you and say you’d gladly sleep through an earthquake or a housefire just as long as you get your seven to eight hours of sleep per day, and despite of your assumed role of contradicting and arguing with spontaneous and stubborn sirius, you had to agree.

But this was not about you anymore, or at least not quite yet for a good seventeen years, so you untangle yourself from sirius and your perfectly warm and cool side of the bed and waddle down the carpeted stairs, careful not to set foot on the creaky step that might risk waking sirius up. You need your secrets too, and you’re not in the mood to share food.

Grateful for the heavens that you and sirius stocked up on groceries two days ago, you had a wide selection of random items to munch on. A few days ago, you were introduced to the idea of a fluffernutter sandwich while scrolling through the short videos on your feed. Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff as spreads on their own was something you didn’t mind eating, but both together in a sandwich? You were enthralled, and the only way to quell the curiosity was to make it. So you did.

You shovel and slather more than enough spread on each slice of bread, though you might have used the same spoon on both jars.. but who’s to tell you off otherwise, your snoozing husband upstairs? pfft.

Smiling happily as if committing a particularly naughty crime, you place the spoon in your mouth, licking off the gooey mixture as you place the sandwich on a piece of paper towel (yes, you take the no dishwashing tonight seriously) on the table. humming, you mull over what to prepare next.

The baby needs something savory and tangy, but you’re not particularly keen on going through all the effort of heating up the soup from dinner, not to mention the amount of cutlery and dishes you’ll use for that, so you zero in on the tostada shells you chose rather than tortilla chips because its much more crispier.

Opening the fridge, you see the laughing cow on a round packaging and decide its the one, so you grab two cheese wedges from it.

Sirius had argued that the next aisle had actual, real blocks of cheese with a variety on display and that there was no point in getting artificially flavored ones. But you’ve gotten really good at giving him the stank face, which inadvertently ends 75 percent of nonsense bickering before it even starts; and since you’ve started showing more and more, sirius has admittedly gone softer on you, not that he was ever more but a pushover your entire relationship. Merely widening of eyes and a jut of your lower lip, even adding a slight tremble or two during times where you did actually fuck up, sirius can’t hold his stance longer than a minute before sighing and taking you in his arms. he might call you out for being a brat at times, but there’s no denying he loves it. And so the artificial wheel of cheese wedges got purchased and bagged home, and you’re meticulously spreading it over the golden shells, leaving little to no gaps of it bare.

Laying it on another paper towel, your heart gets giddy on your chest knowing you’re in for a treat tonight. But not quite time to start munching, the baby reminds you that you still need something tangy to complete the meal. So comes your big predicament, should you get dill pickles or tomato salsa?

It took you ten seconds too long of weighing down the pros-and-cons of choosing one and feeling like you made the wrong choice if you end up not liking it. It doesn’t help that the pregnancy hormones make you more anxious and tend to put you always on the verge of tears. So when the not-so-groundbreaking idea of just eating them both hits you, you feel the weight slide off your shoulders as you sigh. Because again, who’s gonna tell you that eating pickles this late at night can give you bad acid reflux, your snoozing husband? Pfft.

Snacking on some, you do manage to pick out the juiciest looking pickle chips and lay them atop of your tostadas. You and the little one are beyond excited to dive in. It’s looking like a mini upside-down pizza with the cheese spread first then the pickle as toppings. Only thing left now was the the tomato salsa slathered on top to seal the deal.

Opening tight lids wasn’t an issue for you before, in fact, you took pride when friends hand you a jar or bottle to open because you could do it in a breeze. Chances were, the lid wasn’t even screwed on that tight, you were just built different, you’d say with a shrug once you give the items back. So when the tomato jar doesn’t budge after two attempts, you get puzzled.

Maybe your hands were slippery? You wipe them down with a tea towel and try again. No.

You weren’t holding it tight enough? Fingers held taut against the lid, you try three times. Still no.

Determined, you try different positions before letting the jar go, shooting it glares as if it’d get intimidated and just open up for you. You were also getting lightheaded, and passing out on the kitchen floor due to excessive stimulation of your vagal reflex because you were too stubborn to use magic or wake your husband up to open it for you doesn’t seem like the best way to spend the early Tuesday morning hours.

Magic was even out of the option (well, in your brain it was), because your wand’s tucked beside sirius’s on your nightstand, and frankly, you don’t have the patience to drag yourself upstairs just to flick a utility spell to open the wretched thing. So you do the next best option: lose hope.

The disappointment was mutual between you and your baby. And the acid reflux did start to kick in, making your stomach grumble in both hunger and pain. This was all going so well until it isn’t, tears began to make its way up to your eyes.

“See, this is what you get for being greedy and eating all snacks by yourself,” sirius huffs behind you, deep voice still raspy with sleep. You didn’t even hear him getting out of bed and coming down the stairs, that’s how preoccupied you were with opening the jar.

He grabs the container away from you to open it, but not without throwing a scowl at your direction, handsome face contorted with furrowed eyebrows and downturned mouth, enough to express that he felt betrayed by this whole ordeal. If you were in a better mood, you’d poke his sides and tackle him playfully, teasing him for being sulky. But for now, you need the jar opened so you could eat in peace. You’ll deal with the sharing food issue later.

“t wasn’t supposed to take long,” you mumble, caught off guard and refusing to make eye contact, pretending the fridge magnets beside sirius’s head is ten times more interesting than his face. You don’t miss his raised eyebrow and snort at your response.

The second attempt comes and he opens it with a satisfying pop. your mouth falls agape, eyeing the *now accessible* tomato salsa dip in disbelief. What the hell?

And you couldn’t even take the smug grin spreading across sirius’s face by the millisecond. Refuse to. You try to snatch the open container away from him but he holds it higher and out of reach, making a show of puffing his chest, flexing his biceps, even giving it a kiss. This is all James’s doing, you need to have a talk with Lily soon about keeping these two separated.

“Sirius!” you try to plead your way out. the trademark innocent, pouty expression settles on your face like a second mask, hoping he’d go down this easy.

It doesn’t work. He just chuckles, mocking your pleas and face while his free hand sneaks up and pinches your unsuspecting cheek to tease you further.

You yelp in mock outrage and swat his hand away, trying your best to keep your displeasure firm on your face, but you feel the giggles coming up. “This is why I sneak out alone to eat, you’re such a bully,” you huff, but take a seat in front of your makeshift spread.

Sirius places the jar near you, but not without poking your exposed sides, armed with the knowledge that the easiest way to get you laughing (and eventually conceding in an argument) is knowing where your tickle zones are. “Oh yeah,” he drawls, plopping himself beside you. “That’s also why you’re the only one waking up with an upset stomach, stinking up our bathroom so early in the morning.”

Now this one got you appalled, embarrassed, disturbed, basically hit with all the feelings. You’ve been living together long before you got married, and he never brought up this issue until today. “That’s it. I’m leaving.” He makes a move to snatch the sandwich away but the embarrassment on your cheeks made you more agile, swatting his hand away and shielding the sandwich with your hands. “After I finish my meal,” you continue, shooting him a glare.

But see, one of the things that drove you nuts even way back at Hogwarts, was how Sirius Black mostly managed to outsmart you or be one step ahead of you in everything. After you turned him down without much thought whatsoever despite his grand declaration of interest, Sirius took it upon himself to show you (1) that you made a mistake for rejecting him, (2) that his ego won’t let you embarrass him like that again, (3) and that you won’t get rid of him that easily. Once he set his eyes on you, you were face to face with him in everything: grades, OWLs/NEWTs scores, Quidditch plays and bets, wins at the duelling club, even with the fucking gobstones tournament. He never let you catch a break.

Things were surely different now, since you vowed to be with him in sickness and health and untill death parts you both– hell, you’re carrying his child. So you figured maybe, maybe, he’ll let you catch a break this time. Let you eat in peace as you mull over his bathroom comment and how you’re going to get him back.

But again, no. Unlike you, Sirius remembered to grab his wand from the nightstand. Not even batting an eye, he says nonchalantly, “Accio sandwich.” And the fluffernutter you protected with all your physical might managed to escape your watch, and land gracefully on his waiting palm.

What irritated you more from this whole ordeal? The prodigal auror that climbed his way up the ranks and became the youngest deputy director, fully capable of complex spells and wielding different kinds of magic, felt the need to do a verbal Accio spell just to make a point to you.

Out of words, you just stare at him blankly. Too stunned to even cry in frustration because you knew you made a conscious, willing choice to be with this man.

Maybe your best guilt-tripping expression comes best when you’re not trying. Color drains from his face when you remained silent and he scrambles to take a bite off the sandwich before handing it back to you, or rather placing it on your limp hand as you refuse to acknowledge it, still too hurt to budge. “‘m sorry, baby. Just wanted to eat with you since we didn’t get to earlier.”

He did arrive later than usual, deciding to finish the stack of case files and paperwork so he won’t have to sift through them again the next day. There were plans to wait for him before eating, but when the jitteriness and slightly nausea started to kick in, you had no choice in the matter. Sirius had been sulky and clingy the moment he got home, and as compromise, you stayed to watch him eat; listening and reacting animatedly as he ranted about his stressful day.

So you cut him off some slack, also exhausted from all the emotional stimulation sirius brought since he woke up. As a silent peace offering (also because you’re not ready to say sorry to his face), you slide the tostadas within his reach and finally take your bite of the goddamn sandwich. It was good, tasted as expected, sweet peanut butter. You’d probably have it again as a drunk at 3am meal.

Sirius also went and got snacks of his own: microwaved popcorn, pickles, toasted bread slathered with butter, and grapes. Together, you munched on the little spread of random food you could find in your kitchen at 4am in comfortable silence, which is surprising after the earlier bickering. No matter how cheesy it sounded in your head, sirius was the only person that can drive you to the brink of insanity and right back. You were in for a hell of a ride for the foreseeable future; and while there’s a lot of uncertainty right now and changes to be made when the little one gets here, you’re beyond happy that you get to do all this with him.

Sleep was beginning to creep up on you. Of course he notices this right when you do, so a warm arm wrapped across your back urges you to settle on his lap, bodies melding into the familiar crevices like puzzle pieces, though you both had to adjust certain angles to accommodate your growing belly. You sit like this for a while; your head tucked securely in the crook of his neck, steady breaths lulling you to sleep, while sirius’s hands instinctively finds its way under your sleep shirt and on the natural curve of your belly, lithe fingers stroking and drawing soothing circles anywhere he could reach.

you wish you could stay like this forever– cozy and soft and safe– but alas, you were carrying sirius black’s offspring. the baby decides to reward you with a round of kicks, probably giddy after feeling their father’s touch. Sirius chuckles and coos at your bump, while a muffled groan leaves your lips from the sudden onslaught of movement, but still refusing to move from this comfortable position.

Smooth cold lips touch the side of your forehead and you relish in the feeling. “Does it ever hurt, love? All that kicking and wiggling?”

“Not really,” a content sigh leaves your lips. “Feels strange at times, seeing your belly move on its own.”

To prove your point, two tiny bulges make a split second appearance just above where Sirius’s hand lay. His thumb soothes the area lovingly.

“Definitely getting stronger though; Lily told me during the later months, harry for some reason loved to kick downwards, making bathroom trips more frequent than it already is. Not excited for that.”

He presses kisses on your forehead, temple, hairline, anywhere he could reach without moving too much. “Things that you do and endure for this ‘lil troublemaker,” sirius murmurs. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, you could feel his body reverberating with awe and fondness. You try to bask in it for as long as you could, but a passing thought makes its presence known to you again.

“Do i really make the bathroom stink?” it comes out whinier than you intended it to be but you just had to know for peace of mind.

Sirius’s whole frame vibrates as he tries to stifle his laughter, taking you with him. He’s laughing at your expense but you feel your own giggles brewing in your belly. You try to hold it in for longer, preserving some self respect. “A little bit,” he says solemnly. You groan, earlier mortified feeling returning in full swing. It triggers another round of chuckles.

“But dove, it’s nothing that my deep love and adoration for my lovely strong hot and sexy wife can’t handle.” He says assuredly, and you curse yourself for being so down bad for this man as blood rushes to your cheeks from his words. Good thing it’s dim and your face is still tucked in the crook of his neck.

You do pinch his arm in response, and both your laughters compliment the comfortable silence.

“Although,” he says after a while. “The betrayal of you eating without me still hurts.”

“Siri.. i’m sorry,” you mumble. “‘y looked so tired, Didn’t wanna wake you up.”

He tuts and doesn’t say much after that. In sirius dictionary, this means he just wants some affection from you— for you to dote on him and coax out his forgiveness, even if you both know he’s not really mad; judging by his arms still wrapped securely around your frame and steady breaths that tickle and fan on your bare skin.

So you mimic his actions from earlier, planting tiny kisses on his neck, collarbones, jawline, anywhere your lips could reach. Kissing his cheek seem to do the trick, his fake scowl quickly coming undone as a bashful smile breaks through the frown, and his tiny dimple you love so much making an appearance. The muggle maternity books did say dimples are genetic, so an image of a little Sirius running around and smiling up at you with those dimpled cheeks is a warming thought.

“I am charming all the lids to be stuck at night as soon as i wake up tomorrow for work.” You poke a sensitive spot on his side, making him jolt, but you couldn’t resist laughter as it bubbles out of the surface. “You’re insufferable, I can’t believe I married a psychopath.”

“And you let him knock you up too. I’d say it takes one to know one, hm?”

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totalswag · 1 year ago

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graduation - RAFE CAMERON

authors note we love soft!rafe thats all i gotta say

summary rafe's is supposed to attend his girlfriends graduation but told her he couldn't make it last minute due to work stuff. rafe finishes his work stuff early and decides to surprise his girlfriend after the ceremony with flowers.

warnings crying, cussing, wholesome content

It’s graduation

You are officially finished with school for the rest of your life. On to the next phase of your life. Everything you've done to get here has paid off. All those examinations you studied so hard for, to the point of crying and wanting to quit, paid off in the end.

The second you stopped onto campus as a freshman, you couldn't wait to get your degree and graduate from college. It’s been your dream to go to Chapel Hill University since high school.

Your entire family gathered to see you walk across the stage and receive your diploma. You were glad to see them all here on this special occasion. In a way, seeing your loved ones cheer you on as you walk across the stage in your gown and cap, receiving your diploma and degree is a great pat on the back.

There is one person in particular you wish was attending.

Your boyfriend, Rafe.

“Is Rafe coming?” Y/F/N asks, nudging your shoulder.

Y/F/N met freshman year, you lived in the same dorm. A week after knowing each other, you instantly clicked. You two live in a two bedroom apartment near campus. She’s that type of friend you know you can count on no matter what.

“He said work got super busy and that his dad needed him to stay to help out” you sigh, “he wishes he could be here though '' choking on your words but you take a deep breath to calm yourself down.

When Rafe told you on the phone he wasn’t gonna make it due to work your whole world came crashing down in one second. You know how much Rafe takes work seriously– it's a family business he needs to take care of.

Y/F/N pouts, wrapping her left arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a hug to give you some sort of comfort.

“I bet he wishes he was here too, Y/N.” Y/F/N knows how much you want him to be here and watch you walk the stage.

Before you could answer, the president announced everyone to stand up to receive their awards and degrees.

This is finally it.

After the ceremony, you walked around the large crowd of families to find yours. You took a bunch of pictures with your friends before you went over to your family. Your mom texted you where everyone was at.

When you found your family, you walked over with the biggest smile on your face holding your diploma in the air, moving it up and down.

Everyone came over to you and congratulated you. In so many ways, the love you received from your family warmed your heart. You were also given flowers and balloons. There were numerous pictures taken.

Multiple conversations between the family started happening.

Your older brother and his wife arrived, followed by their two-month-old daughter, your niece. Your brother handed her to you. She wore a onesie with writing that said, My auntie graduated with flowers all throughout. For the photo, you held her by her armpits, pulling her face to yours and kissing her nose.

"Ugh, I love being your auntie!" You exclaimed as you cradled her.

She looked up at you with a grin, making you smile even more.

Your mom had her phone in her hand, ready to take a picture of you with the flowers and your diploma. Your mom is a photographer, she takes amazing pictures and usually takes pictures of you for your instagram sometimes.

Everyone gathered around to take pictures of you as well.

So much was going on that you didn't notice Rafe standing behind you with a bouquet of flowers and a card he bought for you.

You could feel a male present standing behind you. You smelt a familiar cologne, Rafe’s cologne.

"Congratulations, baby," he quietly said, catching you off guard.

Your eyes had blown out of their sockets. Your heart was racing at a hundred miles per hour. You spun around, putting your arms around Rafe and pulled him closer, unable to let go.

Rafe was the only one who mattered right now.

Tears began to build up in the corners of your eyes.

“How are you even here right now? I thought you couldn’t make it today” you cried, kissing his face, laughing.

“Well, I was able to get the important stuff done and decided to surprise you” Rafe explained, holding your waist.

"Did you see me-" you are interrupted by him, "yes, baby, I was there to see you walk the stage."

"I believe these are for you, my pretty lady," he says as he hands you a gorgeous bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Thank you Rafe, these are beautiful."

"I'm so proud of you and everything you've done to get to where you are now." "This is definitely a proud boyfriend moment," you sigh, then laugh at his final remarks.

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yallthemwitches · 3 months ago

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United Front

Lily and James have the best intentions when showing up to Petunia's engagement party.

Written for Day 2 of Jily Week (hosted by @sunshinemarauder and @kay-elle-cee) , Prompt: Partners in Crime

AO3 link Here

“She’s going to be cruel.”

“Brilliant, I love women who are dastardly.”

“No, I mean she’s going to find the thing deep inside you that you hold most dear, taunt it to oblivion– then crush it.”

“Very poetic of you Evans.”

“James, I need you to be serious. I need us to be a united front.”

They walked down the main street of Cokeworth. On a normal day where she wasn’t dreading her near future, Lily would have relished the idea of taking James on a little tour of her town. The fall leaves were littering the walkways and little shops had placed out intricate decorations ushering in the fall weather.

Lily stopped abruptly and James followed suit. Paces ahead of them was a heavily flowered awning with large pink and yellow bows plastered all over it. Cresting the door to the building was a large sign that read in flowing script: Congratulations soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Dursley.

“Don’t weddings usually happen in a church for muggles?” James fingered one of the balloons, making it bop back and forth.

“It’s not a wedding. It's the engagement party—now let me see you.”

Lily gave him the once over. His button down was undone just enough to see where his clavicle connected to his chest and his slacks were well fitted on his bum.

“Damn—you’re too fit,” she breathed out. James beamed and gave her a soft kiss.

“Thanks–”

“No, I mean really, you're too fit. She’s going to be so cross.” James’ brow crinkled.

“Er, I’m not following.” Before Lily could explain, the door to the house burst open. Petunia was in a light yellow and peach party dress that looked like it was straight out of a 1950’s refrigerator ad.

“What? You just going to hold court there all day?” Petunia clasped the door tightly with one hand.

“Hello to you too Tuney.” Lily tried to remain composed. “Congratulations on your engagement! We brought you some flowers.”

Petunia took one look at the bouquet in Lily’s arms. “You really shouldn’t have.”

She took them and walked around the porch, setting them in the back corner where they were hardly visible.

“There,” Petunia said with a nod. “Now they won’t clash with the decoration.”

James side-eyed Lily whose friendly facade was crumbling fast. The smile on her face quivered with rage.

“Who is this, why is he here?” Petunia didn’t even look James in the eye, rather giving him a once over before turning a hot shade of pink that clashed with her dress.

“This is my boyfriend—you said I could bring him.”

“Where’s the other boy?” James head whipped over to Lily who looked just as confused as he felt.

“What other boy?” Lily spat back, flustered.

“You know the one who always looks sickly.”

“Oh, Remus? He’s not my boyfriend Tuney—you knew that. James is.”

James decided he had enough of being talked about without any interjection.

“Nice to meet you…and congradu—”

Petunia gave him another once over, but this time with a more discerning eye. Her pale ears turned red.

“I mean honestly, Lily. I can’t believe you would do this to me, you always need to be better—well come on.”

She turned her body to the side leaving an opening to enter the house. Lily grabbed hold of James’ arm and tugged him past and down a hall that was draped with various silk bows.

“Uhm—I know I’m not keen on the muggle ways of conversation but—what was that?”

Lily trudged forward still holding his forearm tightly in her hand.

“She thinks you're fit. I told you she’d be angry—don’t worry about it.”

They reached the sitting room where a backdoor was open and a cacophony of people wafted into the house. Lily stopped walking and turned to James. She put both hands on either side of him and he instinctively lowered his forehead to rest upon hers.

“We’re a team. A united front. We will survive this.” Lily chanted to herself with her eyes closed.

James gave her a little squeeze and pulled her into his chest.

“Don’t worry. We’ll have some drinks, talk about muggle stuff that I’ll pretend to understand, and then I can take you back to school, get you out of this gorgeous dress, and then we can shag all the stress of the evening away.”

Lily snorted and James made a soft smile. “You’re a git.”

“Love you too.” He gave her a kiss on the nose and they locked hands to enter the back garden.

Outside a large table had been adorned with enough frill to supply the entirety of England. A table of drinks had been set up and Vernon stood with a few men Lily didn’t know drinking beers around it. On the other corner of the garden, a bunch of women stood tightly in a circle only to break apart to eye another party guest with disdain.

“So—a drink?” James offered. Regardless of being the most out of place in the whole event, James carried himself as though the party was meant for him. It was a trait that in other moments might have annoyed her, but she was thankful to have some relief from the suffocating feeling of anxiety.

James pulled Lily over to the drink table and Vernon turned with heavy effort to intercept them.

“Lily–” Vernon didn’t smile. His eyes were wide to the point where they actually seemed to fit his head for once. He looked at James with the same expression and James’ face eluded pure joy. If there was one thing James Potter could sense, it was someone he could take the piss out of.

“James Potter.” He offered his hand which Vernon eyed with utter disdain. James lowered his hand back to his side, unfazed by the rejection. If anything he smiled wider.

“This is my sister's fiancee, Vernon,” Lily gave James hand a squeeze. She knew his mischievous grin from anywhere.

James ignored her signal. “Absolutely charmed.”

Vernon coughed at the mention of charm and Lily shot James a warning glance.

“Er—I was actually hoping to see you two before Petunia came back out—could we?” Vernon gestured over to a secluded spot in the lawn far away from any of the other guests. Lily and James followed him as Vernon made a little bit too much of a show of not wanting anyone to notice.

Before they could say anything Vernon’s wide eyes soured into a deep anger. He directed his words at Lily.

“I am well aware that we were obligated to invite you on the account of you being family, but I am just going to say this once: if you plan to have any sort of performances this evening that could spoil the night, I suggest you save it for whatever circus you came from. I’ll not be having your kind come and mess up my lovely evening.”

Lily’s cheeks flushed and her eyes became glassy. She had expected them to be rude, sure, but not downright hostile to her—and even in front of someone they had no reason to question.

James’ grin had disappeared and now his jaw was locked. “Excuse me–first off you can stop pointing at my girlfriend like that,” Lily had not noticed that Vernon had clutched a finger outwards between them during his little speech, “second, what exactly are you implying?” Lily grabbed hold of James’ forearm, but he shrugged it away.

“James–it's fine, let me handle it.” Lily tried to sound stern, despite feeling shaken from being threatened by her own future brother in law.

“Well Vernon,” Lily’s eyes were slits, “I wasn’t planning on any performances as you call it, but seeing as you are being such a bloody arsehole—”

James hid his laugh with a cough. Vernon’s eyebrows shot up his face, his cheeks reddened to the point of purple. Petunia, who had caught sight of their gathering from the window, came rushing out towards them, looking panicked.

“Vernon darling, what has happened?” She whipped her head towards Lily. “What did you do already?”

“Well, your bloody freak sister and her punk boyfriend just insulted me—at my own party!” Petunia rubbed Vernon’s arm while darting her head to either side of the garden, hoping that no other party goers were listening in.

“We didn’t say anything that wasn’t already provoked, you know for invited guests and family you haven’t exactly made us feel welcome,” James shot back.

Petunia whispered some words into Vernon’s ear and he mumbled in response back. He shot James a dirty look before thundering back over to the drinks table where the men surrounded him once more.

Petunia watched as he left and faked a sickly looking smile at the guests who glanced their way. She spun back towards Lily.

“You need to leave. I knew this would be a mistake.”

Lily’s face flushed. The battle between anger and sadness culminated into rosy blotches on her cheeks.

“Fine. We were just going anyway. This party is a drag. Come on James.”

Lily stormed back to the door and entered the house ahead of him. James opened his mouth to say something to Petunia, but she had already departed their corner and was chattering amongst the group of women, acting as though she hadn’t just banished her own sister from her party.

James found Lily sitting on the front stoop of the house, sniffling and rubbing her eyes.

He sat down next to her, procuring two cans of gin and tonic from his pocket. “Nicked these as a souvenir.”

Lily let out a meek laugh and took one from his hand. He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her, softly stroking her hair.

“Sorry if I wasn’t a good teammate today,” he pushed his lips into her hair.

“Nah, you were the best. Sorry my family is such shit—at least now you have witnessed it.”

“Yea, honestly—fuck ‘em.” Lily let out a real laugh this time and James leaned down to kiss it.

“But, to be fair,” he continued, “ it's not everyday we get to take an excursion out of school and I get to see you in a bloody fantastic dress so, despite the tiny upset I’d say this was a success.”

Lily leaned her head on his shoulder and took a breath. The sun was setting and the cool air was setting in.

“What was it you promised me when we got back? To shag all my stress away?” The second it left Lily’s mouth, James’ body perked up.

“I mean, it was an awfully stressful night.”

“Yeah, awfully—we should definitely, definitely do something about that.”

James grabbed Lily’s hand and pulled her up. She laughed at his enthusiasm as he practically ran them past the gate and back onto the mainstreet where Sirius’ motorbike lay waiting for them. The night born anew.

#jily week 2024 #Jily Week Day 2 #james potter #jily #lily evans #hp #jily fanfiction #marauders #marauders era #Dursleys #Meet the family #some silly fluff #james x lily

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17020 · 6 months ago

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CONGRATULATIONS! YOU'RE A MOTHER.

With no actual babies or children, you still manage to become a mother. The Blue Lock men have given you the gift of motherhood. Fem!Yn, some characters are missing i'm sorry.

A huge, colorful bouquet with tulips, roses, baby's breath, and lilies carefully sat on the coffee table inside your shared home. He was sitting on the couch behind it, a box of chocolates in hand, at his side lays the child you have spent the last few months caring for, wearing a party hat which was now crooked from its movement. Its tail wagged in excitement, and it sprung from its seat as you came near; your boyfriend pulling out a small card from behind the box.

"It's not much" he smiled, handing you the card, "but it's your first, and mine too." The card is beautiful, in the cover being an oddly shaped heart—drawn by him—filled with red glitter which had spread all around the card. Inside was a picture of the two of you, of the day in which you first saw your 'baby'.

It was nostalgic, the passage of time. What had started as a small, timid puppy was now the happiest, most brilliant canine the world had ever seen. The other side contained his handwriting, which spelled out a sentence you were once sure you would never hear at this point in your life. As if he had been reading your mind, he reads it aloud. "Happy Mother's Day, my love." Buckle up! A journey with a four-legged friend is one to cherish forever. With him, you are the proudest dog mom.

YOICHI ISAGI, Meguru Bachira, Rensuke Kunigami, Oliver Aiku, Jingo Raichi, Shido Ryusei (let's be honest, his hard would probably say "Happy day, ma"), Chris Prince.

A nice, candle-lit dinner is what awaits you at home. You stepped inside your apartment, and to your surprise, your lover is sat at your dinner table, arranged with a floral centerpiece, lit votive candles, freshly plated takeout (as he could not cook for the life of him), and a furry feline sitting on his lap. The cat's sparkly red collar had heart-shaped balloons tied to it, the balloon almost completely covering your boyfriend's peaceful expression.

"Happy Mother's Day, babe. (Cat's name) and I figured you'd like a family night to celebrate." He smiled, with you walking towards him and picking up your cat, cradling it in your arms. You placed a quick peck on its forehead, and your boyfriend excitedly pointed towards the seat on his side. On his side? There were three seats now—

"Since this is family night, (Cat's name) will be joining us. The catnip hasn't been served yet, I was waiting for you to come" he explained. You softly placed the feline on it's chair, earning a meow in return. Family dinner had gone by much too quick to your liking, the kitchen walls echoing with laughter as you and your boyfriend spent the rest of the night browsing clothes for your cat, sharing a few pecks now and then, because "moms need to replenish themselves with kisses." Congratulations on motherhood! With him, you will become the best cat mom.

REO MIKAGE, HYOMA CHIGIRI, Tabito Karasu, Jyubei Aryu, Rin Itoshi (though his affection would be much more reserved, we still love cat papa Rin), Eita Otoya.

He waited for you inside of your room, sitting on top of your desk. Beside him is an unfamiliar new decoration, a new accessory to your room. To him, though, it's much more than that. "You're back" he states, "I got you something while on the way home. This old lady was selling plants and I thought I'd get one for us, y'know? For our home."

Our home. It had such a nice ring to it, you thought. Taking a closer look at your desk, you noticed the small, brown pot with green growing out of it. It was a jade plant. You thanked him, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into your embrace. Naturally, his arms wrapped themselves around your waist, with him burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"You know what the lady told me?" he questioned, "She said this could be like our child." You could feel warm breath on your skin as he let out a small chuckle, with him pulling away to capture your lips into a sweet, quick kiss. "So, does this means we're parents now?" you asked, wiggling your eyebrows in excitement. He nods, "I bought some of your favorite sweets, y'know, to celebrate, I guess." His cheeks, as well as the tips of his ears, were now a familiar shade of pink. "Happy First Mother's Day, angel." As long as you take turns with him to water it, he's more than happy to make you a plant mom.

SHOEI BAROU, Nagi Seishiro (a sibling to Choki? mayhaps), Yo Hiori, Sae Itoshi (HEAR ME OUT.)

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newtonsheffield · 7 days ago

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Adorable cute chapter!

Can we get a peek at Anthony's morning ritual before meeting Neddy? Does he sleep at all Saturday night? Is he pumping up on the coffee or does he choose tea to avoid the nerves?

Anthony is… the most nervous he’s ever been in his entire life, by the time he drives over to Kate’s place.

He’s spent all day Saturday preparing to meet Neddy, intermittently staring at the photo Kate had sent him. It’s of both of them actually, Neddy giggling on Kate’s lap, her laughing at something off camera with her nose wrinkled. Anthony finds himself looking at it all day. He’s gone and bought a few small gifts for Neddy, he’s got a bouquet of flowers to take for Kate, resting in a vase in the fridge because they absolutely cannot be droopy when he gives them to her.

It feels a bit stupid to buy her flowers nearly three years after having the baby but the sentiment still stands he feels. He thinks she’ll see the humor in the little Congratulations it’s a boy balloon in them.

Anthony has mapped the journey to Kate’s place several times and he’s ready. He’s even studied the alternate routes in case there’s traffic or an accident because Kate’s told him that Neddy’s excited to meet him and one thing Anthony’s not going to do is disappoint his son at the first opportunity.

He only hopes Neddy will like him. That he can live up to the idea Neddy might have had of him.

In the end he arrives 30 minutes early and has to wait in his car on the street in a panicky sweat half wishing he’d told Benedict or Daphne so they’d have been able to calm him down. He has no idea what he’s going to say and in the end it doesn’t matter. Because the minute he sees Neddy, Sat on the sofa with his feet dangling over the edge nothing else matters.

#surprise neddy au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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probably-writing-x · 2 years ago

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Bundle of Joy

Summary:

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, I think that is all

Author’s Note: Thank you for the support and your requests recently, I love you all <3

———

“I’m just saying, like, it’s a boy, it would be rude to not call it Drew, right?” Your boyfriend comments from beside you as he opens your door in the car, stepping back to let you get out.

“Please don’t suggest that they call him Drew,” You laugh, “Because then they’re going to be disappointed when they have to tell you his actual name.”

Drew scrunches his face in that way that makes him look pouty and adorable, “You’re crushing my dreams.”

The two of you were walking across the parking lot towards the hospital, on your way to see his sister. You’d got the call a few hours ago that she’d had the baby and Drew had been on the phone to the hospital straight away to find out when was the earliest time he could visit. You’d stopped at the mall on the way here and Drew now had a green stuffed dinosaur under his arm, a congratulations balloon bouquet floating up from one of his hands, and the biggest card he could find in the store. You had a bag filled with a grey blanket, the softest one in the shop, and a few outfits. Drew had picked out a pair of trainers too that matched a pair he owned - yes the baby wouldn’t care, but the look on Drew’s face was too priceless to turn down.

He’s keeping up with the pace of your steps beside him but you can tell he’s fighting off the urge to run off and find his sister’s room as soon as possible. Whenever the thought of what had just happened crossed his mind, a grin spilled onto his face.

“Are you excited?” You smile at him.

Drew turns around to you and grins brightly, “I get to be an uncle!”

You laugh at him and the two of you go through the double glass doors that lead onto the maternity ward.

“Okay she said they’re in room 215,” Drew mentions, tucking the dinosaur under his other arm so that he can lace his fingers with yours.

You lift your interlocked hands and point out a finger in the direction of a sign reading 201-250, “This way babe.”

When you two get to the right door, Drew pulls back on your hand a little as he stops in his tracks.

“What’s up?” You frown at him, “It’s this one.”

He lets out a breath, “Why am I nervous?” He laughs through it but you can see the slightest hint of worry in his eyes.

“Come on, Uncle Drew, you’ve got a nephew to meet,” You squeeze his hand, releasing it to knock gently on the door and open it.

His sister and her husband, are both in the bed, he is perched on the side with his arm around her. In her arms is a small bundle, all wrapped in blue with a tiny white hat just poking over the top. Drew is stood behind you and his face falls into the softest his features can become, his eyes bright like he is sure nothing can be more perfect.

“Hi!” Drew’s sister grins, looking insanely put together for a girl who had just given birth.

“Oh my god congratulations!” Drew beams and his brother in law gets up to give him a hug, “We bought you some bits.”

“Some is an understatement,” The man laughs, taking the balloons and the toy from Drew who goes over to his sister to give her a cautious hug.

“How is he? How are you?” Drew asks, speaking quietly like he’s terrified of being heard.

“He’s good, we’re both doing okay, just tired,” The new mother smiles, “Do you want to hold him?”

Drew looks at her like she’s just asked him to take on his worst fear, that worry returning to his eyes, all words slipping away from him.

“Here, sit down, I’ll pass him to you,” Her husband encourages him and waits as Drew sits in the visitor’s chair beside the bed.

He holds out his arms as his brother-in-law hands over the baby, careful and delicate like he’s the most fragile thing in the world, the most precious. You walk over and stand beside the chair, putting an arm around Drew’s shoulders so that you can lean over and see the little bundle in his arms.

Drew looks up at you with tears spilling over his eyes, threatening to fall, “He’s so small.”

You laugh lightly and look up to both of them, Drew’s sister’s expression matching that of his own.

“So have you guys thought of a name yet?”

“Yeah, we have, actually,” He smiles, “His name is Leo.”

“Oh my god it’s perfect,” You respond, “Leo Davila.”

“Leo Drew Davila,” The Mom comments, pursing her lips like she is preparing for the reaction already.

Drew looks up and his lips part like he has lost his ability to reply, “Wh-“ He looks back at you quickly like he’s making sure he hasn’t misheard, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, who better to name him after, right?” His sister laughs, “And… we actually have a question to ask you guys, if you don’t mind.”

You frown a little but there’s a weird fluttering in your chest like you’re certain of what’s about to be said. You knew how close Drew and his sister were, and how much he would care for this baby as if it were his own, but it is still a shock when you hear the words -

“We wanted to know whether you guys would be his godparents?” His brother-in-law smiles, looking between the two of you and then back to his wife.

“Us?” You croak out, sure that you’ll cry if you try to speak any more.

“Yeah, both of you. I know I couldn’t imagine anyone else being his godfather, and (Y/N) you’ve become like a sister to me, I couldn’t have anyone better,” She smiles, “Obviously you can say no but I just know that Leo would be in safe hands with you two.”

“Of course we will, we’d love to,” Drew stutters over his words, looking up at you again, “Godparents has a nice ring to it.”

“Thank you so much guys,” You say, going over to hug them both.

“Here, do you want to hold him, babe?” Drew offers, standing up cautiously and slowly from the chair.

You nod and take the baby from his arms, conscious as you rest his head over the crook of your elbow, his tiny form fitting into one of your arms as the other one draws around him to encase him in your hold. His eyes are closed and the hat on his head covers the majority of the dark strands of hair on his scalp. His lips are parted just slightly and there’s a little redness in his cheeks, like a warmth. You draw a hand up to his and tickle at his chest and arm. At the movement, his tiny hand moves just slightly and wraps around your finger. You can feel the tears in your eyes blurring your vision but you can’t bring your eyes to pull away from him.

“I think he likes you,” She grins, “Drew you might have some competition for favourite.”

Drew laughs, raspy like his voice is still laced with emotion, “I think I’ll accept the defeat to (Y/N).”

He steps over to you and wraps an arm around your waist. You settle your head on his shoulder and the both of you look down at Leo like he’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. Sure now more than ever that you would make certain he grew up knowing how much his auntie and uncle loved him - no matter what.

“You three look adorable,” His sister grins, “It has to be you two next, doing all of this.”

Drew looks down at you and you tilt your chin to look up at him as he says, “Yeah, maybe.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “You gotta put a ring on it first, Starkey.”

He laughs and it rumbles through his chest against your head, “Yeah, yeah, I’m working on it.”

In that moment, you can picture it all. Everything you’d seen from the sidelines for Drew’s sister and her husband, you could see it all for you and Drew. A lifetime forever that would be shared with your own versions of the little bundle of joy wrapped in your arms. You lean into Drew a little closer and he tightens his hold on your waist, like you’ve just confirmed your entire future together in no more than a few moments.

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shiro-s2e2-erukinzu · 2 months ago

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Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 105... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

This chapter was quite FRANKY-TASTIC!! 😎 And I absolutely loved every minute of it...!! 😆

Another fun chapter this week, so let's talk about it, shall we? 😁

At the beginning of the chapter, I was trying to figure out who we're following this week, and as soon as I saw that black scruffy hair, I knew that this was gonna be about the man himself, Franky!! 😆

I love the idea that Franky has like several different hideouts that he lives at, but because he has so many, he can't remember which one he's staying in and that's pretty dang funny!! 🤭 Also, this had me cackling!!:

(GOVERNMENT BANNED) MUSIC?! 😂 GODDAMN, THAT LINE GOT ME GOOD!!! 🤣🤣🤣

So, after the thing he was building while listening to the (government banned) music (🤣) blows up in his face, he heads out to the Tobacco Shop, where we not only get to see Fiona for a quick second (though, I thought that we were about to get another team up chapter with Franky and Fiona like back in Mission 60), but we even have Loid call Franky up to babysit Anya for a bit...!! 😆

After that, Franky takes the money that he earned from Twilight for taking care of Anya to invest into the horse races, and well...:

...it didn't go so well for our boy Franky...! 😌

After losing most of his money, Franky is about to head off to work, but then decides to go up to the betting station where a teller that Franky knows is at...! The teller tells Franky that he can't give him any intel on the route that Franky was about to bet on because the SSS snatched up the guy that they had over there, so instead the teller gives Franky some movie tickets and teases Franky about finding a girl to take with him...! 😌 Furious at the teller's comment, Franky storms out of there and eventually runs into this girl named Priscilla and asks her go to the movies with him, and...:

SHE ACTUALLY SAID YES!!! 🎉👏😆 GOOD FOR YOU FRANKY!! 😊

So without delay, Franky gets ready for his movie date with Priscilla, when suddenly he gets phone call...:

The teller that gave Franky the movie tickets has been captured by the SSS, but Franky is not interested in saving him and wants to go to movies with Priscilla. We then see Franky walking and singing with a bouquet of roses somewhere, and...:

FRANKY WENT TO GO SAVE THE TELLER!!😆

I love that Franky went to go save the teller, it just shows how good of a person Franky really is, even though he'd probably lie and say otherwise...!! 😄 We even get this super BADASS moment with Franky during the rescue...!!: 🤩

Though the glove breaks and he hurts his hand right after this, it was still badass!! 😎 Then, Franky and the teller make their escape with the help of a ton of traps, gadgets and Franky shaped hot air balloon (😂), all so that Franky could at least go to dinner with Priscilla, but...:

...it didn't work out for our boy yet again... 😩 But instead of being completely sad about it, Franky considered that today was actually a good day, and made me so happy!! 😊 Then as Franky's heading home, the teller surprises Franky by congratulating him on getting a girlfriend, though he figures out quickly that it didn't work out, Franky tells him not to worry about...!! So then, the teller offers to take Franky to the movies, and...:

At least Franky still considered it was a good day!! 😄

And that was Mission 105, I always love to whatever Franky is up to and this chapter didn't disappoint!! 😆 Franky is one favorite characters in the series, not only because he's funny and an awesome dude, but it's also because everytime I see the dude, he reminds me A LOT of my brother, which never fails to me smile...!! 😄 I kinda wish that things could've worked out with Franky and Priscilla, but I honestly love it more that he didn't let not getting the girl ruin his day, which I think is some really awesome growth from Franky...!! 😊

I think that's pretty much all I wanted to say about this chapter, so until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! 😁 ADIOS MI AMIGOS!! 👋😄

#spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #spy x family manga #sxf manga #spyxfamily manga #spy x family spoilers #sxf spoilers #spyxfamily spoilers #Mission 105 #franky franklin #fiona frost #loid forger #anya forger #bond forger #FRANKY FANS REJOICE!! 😆#We got another great chapter about our boy!! 👌😎#FRANKY IS THE G.O.A.T!!! 🎉

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television-overload · 6 months ago

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of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 30/34 - battery operated radio

[Read on AO3]

The next morning over a breakfast of bland oatmeal, some bacon, and orange juice, Scully makes a few calls. Skinner is delighted to hear from them, and promises to stop by in the afternoon, repeating his heartfelt congratulations before ending the call. As for the Lone Gunmen, you’d think they’d just discovered evidence of the lost city of Atlantis, with the way they whoop and cheer over the phone. No one is surprised when, a few hours later, the three unlikely friends make an appearance in the doorway of their hospital room, bearing colorful balloons and stuffed animals that look like they’d been won in a claw machine at an arcade.

The nurse leading the way glances at them with suspicion, but loosens up a little when she sees Scully’s eyes brighten in recognition. She supposes they do make quite a group of misfits, but to them, they’re family. You can never have too many weird uncles, and Madeline’s got it made in that department.

“Let’s see the little stinker!’ Frohike says excitedly in lieu of greeting, setting the balloons onto a table by the entrance. He wastes no time at all in making his way over to them, coming to a stop next to the couch where Mulder has been laying with Maddie resting on his chest, reading the newspaper while she sleeps.

“Hey, fellas,” Mulder says, slowly easing himself up so as not to disturb the slumbering infant. Her face bunches up, her brows furrowing a little as she stirs. Oh well, no harm in her waking up now to greet their visitors.

“Wow,” Byers says, his eyes wide. “You guys really did it.”

“I’m a man of my word,” Mulder deadpans, and Scully can’t help but smile as the three Gunmen crouch down to get a good look at Maddie.

“So, like… you have a daughter,” Langly muses aloud.

Mulder chuckles. “Crazy, huh?”

Frohike reaches out a finger and tickles her chin, grinning from ear to ear. “You’ve got some weird parents, kiddo,” he says. “I wish you luck.”

“Trying to turn her against us already?” Scully asks, her eyebrow raised quizzically.

“Maybe,” he responds. “If I have to.”

“Congratulations, you guys,” Byers says, beaming at them proudly. “She’s a lucky kid.”

Mulder lays Madeline on top of his knees, letting her stretch out and survey the faces hovering above her.

“If Mulder ever needs some sense knocked into him, Scully, you call me,” Frohike says seriously, glancing in her direction. “He’d better pull his weight, or else he’ll have us to answer to.”

Scully wants to laugh at his thinly-veiled threat, but she finds it sweet, not that she’ll ever need to take him up on the offer. Mulder has been a saint ever since they got here—ever since they began this process, really. She couldn’t ask for better.

He had smelled like his usual travel shampoo and that new baby smell last night when he came to bed. It was intoxicating. And this morning, he even made sure to order their breakfast before she woke up, and had the baby brought in so he could feed her without her having to tell him to.

She’s not exactly sure what their routine will look like when they get home, but she’s confident that they’ll find a good balance. She can’t wait.

“Got room for one more?” a voice calls from the door, and in walks Walter Skinner bearing a bouquet of flowers.

“You’re just in time,” Scully says, walking over to him to accept the gift. “She’s just now waking up from her nap.”

Skinner smiles and approaches the gathering crowd around the couch, peering down at the subject of all the attention.

“Wow, look at that,” he says. “How’s it feel, Mulder?”

Mulder picks Madeline up and holds her in front of him, bringing her close enough that he can press tiny kisses to her cheeks before laying her on his shoulder.

“Feels pretty good, Skinman,” he answers. “You wanna hold her?”

“Not so fast,” Frohike says, pushing himself in front of the much taller man. “I called dibs on the way over here.”

Mulder merely chuckles and gets to his feet, transferring the baby to their friend’s arms with all the grace of a seasoned parent.

“Hi there, little miss,” Frohike says, rocking her back and forth. “I’m your uncle Melvin.” Madeline stares up at him in wonder, completely captivated by the silly faces he makes.

After Frohike, Byers gets a turn, and Langly politely declines, opting instead to give her a tiny fist bump. Then it’s their boss’ turn.

“Alright, give her here,” Skinner says, reaching to take her out of Byers’ arms. His posture is a little stiff, but the warmth of his smile is a dead giveaway as she settles in his hold. His pointer finger pulls back the blanket swaddling her so he can get a better look at her. “Well, you guys, looks like your harebrained little scheme worked out, after all,” he says.

Scully chuckles. She’s so thankful that they’ve had the support of Skinner and the Lone Gunmen throughout all this, despite how unconventional their plans were. She’d been so afraid all along that something would come and take away this opportunity from them too, but here they are at the end of one journey and the beginning of another.

She feels like she can finally let herself be happy.

After another minute or so, Madeline seems to realize that she’s in unfamiliar arms and starts to fuss, her chin jutting out along with her bottom lip.

“I think someone wants her mama,” Skinner says, bending forward to hand her back to Scully. It’s too early for another feeding, so she probably just wants to be held and rocked the specific way she seems to like it.

“What’d you call her?” their boss asks, shoving his hands in his coat pockets.

“Madeline,” Scully answers.

“Well, I’m happy for you two. Or three, I guess. Gonna take some getting used to, huh?”

“Don’t pretend you’ll miss having us around,” Mulder jokes.

“You know I will,” Skinner says seriously. “Although I can honestly say that I hope your successors are a little more adept at staying out of trouble, or at least getting out of it without my intervention. I’m pretty sure I’m running low on the Director’s good will.

“I have a good feeling about agents Doggett and Reyes,” Scully says. It will be strange, to not be the ones in the driver’s seat, so-to-speak, but they’ll still get their doses of a good X-File every now and then. It’s not really goodbye.

“We should get out of your hair,” Byers says when the room has fallen silent.

Frohike nods in agreement, taking a step toward the door. “Hey, if you ever need babysitting, you’re looking at the owners of the most secure daycare facility on the eastern seaboard,” he says, jabbing a thumb at himself and the other two Gunmen.

Langly snorts. “Yeah, it’s so exclusive, we only have space for one client. And we’re highly selective. You might not get in.”

“Alright, alright,” Mulder laughs, leading them toward the door by the shoulders. “Thanks for stopping by. It really does mean a lot.”

And after a few more firm handshakes, hugs, and well-wishes, they’re gone.

-.-.-

The door closes behind Byers, and the four men stand in the hall awkwardly, waiting for someone to state the obvious.

“You saw the rings, right?” Langly states, glancing between his compatriots who each nod in turn.

“I don’t know who they think they’re kidding,” Skinner says in exasperation. “That diamond would have had to cost at least three grand, minimum.”

“How long do you think they can keep pretending they’re just friends?” Byers asks. “I mean, realistically?”

A look of horror dawns on Frohike’s face. “This is Mulder and Scully we’re talking about,” he says. “It could be forever, for as stubborn as those two are.”

They mull that one over for a moment, each with a look somewhere between frustration and concern.

“That’s it,” Skinner says suddenly, gritting his teeth as he turns to face the other direction. “I’m taking matters into my own hands.” The Gunmen watch in puzzlement as the bald-headed man approaches the nurses’ station, digging his wallet out of his pocket.

Langly looks at Byers and shrugs. The three of them follow behind and stand beside him at the counter.

“How much for you to put on some cheesy romantic music in that room over there?” Skinner asks the nurse on duty, pulling out a couple $20 bills.

“I’m sorry?” she asks, looking up at him in confusion.

Skinner waves the money in the air and points back in the direction of room 509. “Do you have a radio or something? Maybe the intercom?”

“Can I ask what this is about?” the woman asks, clearly suspicious of such an odd question.

“Our friends are complete idiots and won’t admit that they’re in love with each other,” Langly answers bluntly.

The nurse’s eyes go wide, lighting up in interest. “Those two? With the baby?” she asks. “But I thought they were married.”

“They are,” Frohike says. “The key detail here is that they’re idiots.”

The other three nod, confirming that assessment.

The nurse purses her lips, her eyes traveling to the cash in Skinner’s hand, then back up to each of the four of them in turn.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

-.-.-

Mulder is just finishing up washing his hands in the en suite bathroom when, from somewhere in the hall, he hears the faint sounds of a piano playing. A few seconds later, the whine of a saxophone joins the melody, and he chuckles to himself. He’d never been a huge fan of smooth jazz himself, but he could appreciate the musical stylings of Kenny G every now and then.

He’s about to hurl some lighthearted joke about the song at Scully when the sight of her stops him in his tracks.

There she stands in the middle of the room, right where he left her, except now she’s swaying along with the music, Madeline still in her arms. The soft, easy smile on her face emanates a warm glow on the room, and he’s absolutely in awe of her.

He leans against the door frame of the bathroom, fighting back against the sudden pounding of his heart as he watches her.

She’s so beautiful.

In the space of a few seconds, he makes a decision, stepping carefully toward her.

She spins slowly along with the music, humming softly to Madeline and unaware of his presence until he gently taps her on the shoulder, almost startling her.

“May I cut in?” he asks, his voice hardly more than a low whisper.

There’s that shy smile he so loves to see. She used to smile at him like that a lot, back when he could shamelessly flirt with her in the first few years they worked together. She glances up at him briefly now from underneath thick eyelashes, and he takes that as a yes, wordlessly taking Maddie from her arms and placing into the nearby bassinet.

She looks content enough there for now. Relaxed, perhaps by the sourceless hypnotic music. Mulder quickly returns to Scully’s side, scooping her hands up in his and guiding her left hand to his shoulder.

“Does this song take you back, Scully?” he asks, pulling her close and swaying along with her.

“Mmm,” she hums softly. “Missy bought me this CD for Christmas back in ‘92.”

He throws his head back in exaggerated exasperation before dipping his head to meet her eyes teasingly. “I knew it,” he says. “I bet you crack open a bottle of wine and sit in the bubble bath while it plays, don’t you, Scully.”

The look she gives him is just proof of why the FBI Behavioral Science Unit used to pay him the big bucks.

“Lucky guess, Mulder,” she says, smirking up at him.

He pulls her just a little bit closer and feels a chill run up his spine when Scully moves her hand to the nape of his neck, brushing against the short hair there.

“You know, this song is actually called ‘The Wedding Song,’” she states conversationally.

“Oh really?” Mulder spins her out and then back into his arms, keeping pace with the slow rhythm. “You know, we never had a proper first dance. With actual music playing, I mean.”

“No,” she agrees, “we didn’t.”

Their words hang in the air, the implications as clear as they’re going to get for today.

The saxophone croons in dulcet tones, and Mulder feels himself surrendering to its pull. Scully’s hand, the one he holds in his, moves to rest on his shoulder along with the other one, leaving his arm hovering in the air.

With deft fingers, he pushes back some escaped tendrils of her hair, tucking them neatly behind her ear before bringing his hand down to her waist. She’d opted for a thin sweater this morning, having no use for her professional attire any time soon. Its fabric is soft beneath his fingertips, and he revels in the sensation that being near her evokes.

Over the years, he’s seen enough hospital rooms to last a lifetime. But, he thinks, he could spend the rest of his life here in this one, so long as Scully and their daughter—their daughter—are there with him.

That wouldn’t be so bad.

-.-.-

“It’s working!” the nurse—Andrea—says excitedly, peeking into the room through the small window in the door.

“What’s happening?” Frohike asks from his place on the ground. He holds the battery operated radio Andrea had provided up against the door, the volume turned up enough that they should be able to hear it through the crack at the bottom.

“They’re dancing!”

Skinner stands away from the group, somehow embarrassed even though this had been his idea to begin with.

“Wait! This might be it!”

Langly’s head joins hers at the window just in time to see Mulder adjust his hold around Scully’s waist, pulling her closer.

“Come on, man! You can do it!” he says in a hopeful cheer. Andrea turns to look at him, then peers back into the darkened room.

They’re gazing at each other now in that way they always do, their swaying starting to slow almost to a halt. It’s nearly imperceptible at first, but they see Scully lean in, tilting her head up toward Mulder in a way that looks very promising.

“Come on…!” Langly repeats, holding his breath. The nurse gasps, grabbing the sleeve of his t-shirt.

Now Mulder is leaning forward too, craning his neck lower and aligning his mouth with Scully’s. The speed at which they move nearly sends Langly into a fit of rage. Even a sloth would be telling them to hurry it up already.

“What are they waiting for?” Andrea asks, her brows furrowed in an accurate representation of the frustration the four men have felt toward this duo for the past several years.

They get closer, and closer, and closer, and finally, just when they think the moment has finally arrived—

The sharp cry of the baby sends all their progress crashing to the ground.

“Ugh!” Langly groans, throwing up his hands in annoyance. “Why?”

“No dice?” Frohike asks from the ground.

Byers shakes his head, and Frohike sighs, switching the radio off in an admittance of defeat.

“They’re like that all the time?” Andrea asks, looking alarmed at the thought.

“Sometimes worse,” Skinner says. He rubs his fingers over his bald head in an attempt to stave off an oncoming migraine.

The nurse lets out an astonished breath of air. “Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” she says, her hands perched on her hips. “It was sweet of you to try.”

“Eh, they’ll figure it out eventually,” Langly says optimistically, waving a hand through the air. “If they don’t, we’ll just lock them in a room until one of ‘em lets it slip.”

“It was worth a shot,” Byers says in consolation, helping Frohike to his feet. “We almost had them.”

“How hard is it to tell your best friend you love them?” Skinner asks rhetorically. Frohike shrugs and hands the radio back over to the nurse.

Langly spares one last glance at the door to Mulder and Scully’s room. A thought crosses his mind, and he feels his stomach drop.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” he asks, suddenly afraid they might have just messed everything up.

“Tell anyone?” she asks, her head cocked in confusion.

“You know… that they might have exaggerated a little on their adoption application?” he bites his lip worriedly, wishing they’d just left the hospital instead of meddling in their friends’ business. “If they find out that we ruined their happy ending, I think they’d kill us,” he says. “That is, if I don’t jump off a bridge myself first.”

Andrea laughs, shaking her head. “Are you kidding? They obviously love each other more than half the couples I see come in here. Of course I won’t say anything!”

Langly lets out a breath of relief, and so do the others.

“Well, thanks again for your help,” he says, offering her an awkward smile.

She shrugs. “Sure beats whatever soap opera they’ve got playing in the break room.”

Sometimes, Langly thinks, it would be nice for Mulder and Scully’s lives to be less like a soap opera. But beggars can’t be choosers.

A silent moment passes, and he shares a look with the other Gunmen. Time to roll out, ideally before they do any more potential damage to their friends’ lives.

He gives a parting nod to the nurse, then turns to start the trek back down the hall. Frohike grumbles something about Mulder’s wasted good looks as they walk, and Skinner just looks tired.

Just before they reach the elevator, they hear Andrea call out, stopping them in their tracks.

“Wait!” she says, jogging to catch up with them, a small smile on her face. “Um…” Taking a pen out of her pocket, she clicks it once and grabs Langly’s arm. “If you ever want to grab dinner or something,” she says, writing down her number while carefully avoiding his eyes.

Langly watches in astonishment as she completes the strand of numbers, punctuating it with a smiley face. With one quick, shy glance up at him, she disappears back to her station, leaving them all completely awestruck for a good few seconds. The elevator comes and goes before they snap out of it, forcing them to wait for it to cycle back to them.

“In a shocking turn of events, Langly might actually have more game than Agent Mulder,” Byers narrates in an amused tone.

“Puh-lease,” Frohike counters, giving Langly a good-natured shove in the arm as they start moving again. “We all know that I’m the real chick magnet around here.”

~~~

Linking because I can...

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption #Spotify

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gadriezmannsgirl · 2 years ago

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Could you do one about a honeymoon with gavi; just fluff

Honeymoon Bliss -P.G

Summary: After a wedding there's the honeymoon

“Señor y Señora Páez”

You were it. You officialy were la Señora Páez. You were married to the love of your life, Pablo.

With only 24hrs of marriage you knew you’d never get tired of being called by your new last name and it was even better hearing it fall from your, now, husband’s lips, introducing you as his wife to everyone.

You smiled again, walking side by side, hand in hand with Pablo as you both admired the beautiful Palawan, already making up plans to explore the whole Isle and it’s beauty while you guys were given a little tour from one of the guide of the hotel you were gonna stay in for a whole two weeks.

“Your suite” The man said with a loving smile, letting you both in

“Oh god” You let out admiring the beauty of it.

It had a top to bottom corridor glass door, which gave you the perfect view of the sea and the sand combined with some trees and nature. The room itself was big and modern with some wood furniture around; it had one big bathroom with a combination of white and brown colored tiles, TV, couch, a table for you both to eat outside and other inside, the bed was extremely big and perfectly done.

In one of the bedside table there was a small bouquet of flowers and some balloons that read ‘Newlyweds’ along with your wedding date and initials. So simple and yet so gorgeous. It was already the perfect place and perfect honeymoon you could ever imagine.

You smiled pointing the little fact to Pablo who smiled, kissing your cheek.

“Welcome and congratulations” The man said with a smile after finishing the little tour “Please, contact me or any of the staff members if you ever need anything”

“Muchas gracias” Pablo said nodding looking around “I think we’ll be good for now, though” He pulled you closer to him, pecking your lips

The man nodded smiling and left you alone in your suite. You hugged Pablo and kissed his left shoulder

“Thank you” You said softly with a smile

“You don’t need to thank me, amor” Pablo smiled back at you “You deserve it, I deserve it, we deserve it. It’s our time” He spoke softly looking directly into your eyes “Wanna lay down for a bit? We have been going around since we woke up, sleeping in an airplane isn’t the best thing and yesterday we didn’t batted a single eye” You smiled remembering the last night events

After the long lasting party, you went directly into your room and declared your love for each other for the first time as husband and wife. It was a bit rushed, full of excitement but still filled with love and passion, today, for a whole two weeks and for the rest of your lives, you had all the time for yourselves.

You took a deep breath, grabbing his hands that were at your waist and guiding him towards the bed with you, humming “Yes, we can sleep in for a while” You agree nodding, you turned you both around and pushed him into the bed, straddling him “But we’re not leaving this bed today” Pablo’s hands were at your waist and instantly smiled

“You read my mind, preciosa”

… ... ...

It had been one week and five days since you’ve been here in your honeymoon and it was the best one weeks and five days of your life. Being close to your husband, spending time with him with zero stress and work, no social media and just being normal; you even joked that Pablo hasn’t furrowed his eyebrows ever since you both got here, of course he had to deny it.

“Yes, I have”

“Liar”

“I literally just did when that hijoe’puta was checking you out”

You had laughed hard at that before reassuring him, he was the only one you were interested in and pay him attention to.

There weren’t enough words to describe how wonderful everything was, both of you getting to know the Isle, the Filipino’s culture, a bit of their language and even their food that you’d definitely try to do back at home.

“I wish we could stay here for the rest of our lives” You said softly not wanting to interrupt the quiet atmosphere between the two of you. After a whole day swimming, being on a boat, walking around you decided it would be good to eat outside, your reasons leveled up when the tour guide mentioned a fire and cultural dance.

After eating the delicious dinner, you both headed towards the fire, watching the Filipino’s dance whilst also watching the beautiful surroundings.

“Sí, sería muy lindo” You heard Pablo speak into your jaw, leaving kisses there “We can if you want to” You hummed lightly leaning more into him.

“Tempting” You smiled and stayed in silence for a few seconds “But we love Barcelona way too much” Both of you laughed lightly

“Even if you don’t know how to speak Catalan properly?”

“Shhhh” You put your hand on top of his face feeling him laugh “Don’t say it too loudly, it’s my secret” He grabbed your hand and took it away from his face “I can understand it tho”

“¿Estás segura?”

“Cállate” He laughed

“I’m so fucking glad you married me” He spoke, hands caressing yours

“Well… I didn’t had much of a choice, you know?” He squeezed you a bit letting out an ‘Oye’ “I’m kidding, I’m kidding” You giggled “I’m glad you married me too. I love it. I love you and I love us, I also love the fact we’re slowly progressing in our relationship, our lives together” You spoke turning around enough to face him

“I love it too” He said “Soy jodidamente suertudo en tenerte” You smiled “I’m lucky for you to choose me to be yours and I’m lucky that you to accept be mine, to be your husband, your life partner and your everything for the rest of our lives. You don’t have any idea of how much I love you and feel about you” You felt a few tears swell up to your eyes

“I do have an idea” You whispered “Because I feel the same way”

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover

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balloondeliveryus · 7 months ago

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reneejuliet · 1 year ago

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Leave Everything You Need

Author: reneejuliet Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Rating: E Word Count: 1,292 Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, Friends to Lovers?, Idol AU Author’s Note: It's aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive! Sorry to say but this story isn't quite dead just yet. Let's not talk about the time between the last installments, however - mostly because I'm hoping to just look the other way at my horrible time management and planning skills. But anyway! Here it is, folks - the parting of the clouds! The angst is finally beginning to thin out. This is still more of an interlude, a stepping stone if you will, before things begin to *happen* in subsequent parts. I hope you'll enjoy it all the same.

Also, to anyone who stuck around this long - my most sincere gratitude to you all. I've been sitting on this part for 9 months now and it has plagued me each and every day. So, I truly do hope you enjoy this little slice. I'm sorry it wasn't worth the long wait. I'll try to make up for all that in the next part.

You can find all previous parts here, under The Incident™ Installments.

It was a considerate gesture.

Awards season is always hectic. There’s so much to do and so many places to be, and so little time to do it all in. Sure, there’s managers and assistants and handlers, all helping their talent stumble through the complimentary chaos that comes and goes like clockwork each year. It never ceases to be overwhelming, though.

That’s why little things like this are so stupidly appreciated. It isn’t unusual to receive congratulatory gifts from other artists and companies – in fact, more idols are friends with each other than not. Still, amidst all the rehearsals, schedules, and traveling, it’s hard to find the time to express sentimentality. At least to those not within the same company.

This is hardly Bangtan’s first rodeo, though, and over the years they’ve made quite a name for themselves. Garnered the respect and admiration of their fans and peers. So when they walk into work each morning during this season, it’s far from unusual to see a collection of bouquets or gift baskets awaiting them. Still, it’s humbling each and every time, and they make sure to afford the appreciation each gift deserves.

That’s how Hoseok came across the card. It was tucked into a small assortment of flowers and balloons, all of which were vibrant and radiating cheer. It was his turn to reach the felicitations aloud, so he’d opened the envelope and flashed the others the shiny front as if it were an award itself. Then he’d opened it with his usual boisterous flair, lips poised to sing the song of congratulations within – until suddenly, it felt like all the air was knocked clean out of his lungs. It was signed by an up-and-coming group from one of the smaller agencies, their messy signatures scrawled haphazardly along the bottom of the card. Each name had a small handwritten note above it to add a personal touch, but it was the main message that caught him off guard. The slopes and slants of each character, the way it weighted to the right. The distinguishing little squiggle of a smiley face at the very end. He knew that handwriting.

You.

You had penned the celebratory tidings yourself. That’s why the names suddenly looked familiar. This was a congratulations from the group you now handled. The group that had taken you away from him.

It wasn’t a fair way to view them, Hoseok knew that. He just couldn’t help it. Just as he couldn’t blame you for making the decision to leave. Your contentment at HYBE had been tentative, temporary at best. You were never meant for office duty, to be cooped up in a glass cage all day. And despite the tarnish to your reputation, your work ethic still spoke volumes. Bang PD had made sure of it. It was only a matter of time before someone else came along to headhunt you.

Hoseok had done some snooping, seeking what information he could get on this new group. He even looked into the company itself, ensuring that they would treat you right. That it was a place where you could be happy. There were no red flags to be found, not even as far down as he had dug. He only hoped they would offer you the future you deserved.

A few months into your employment, the group really started to take off. Their mini album had reached the charts, their video channel surpassed 500,000 views, and they’d been nominated for their first awards show, where they would be performing the nominated song. It was also one of the awards shows where Bangtan had several nominations of their own. Initially, it hadn’t been in the schedule for them to attend, but once Hoseok learned that your group would be there – and, by association, you – he'd played every card he had until he’d convinced the company to send them.

Anything for the chance to see you again.

He’d been unsure whether or not you even still thought about him. If you wondered where he was, what he was doing. Who he was with. The radio silence on your end had told him you didn’t. Many times he had wanted to reach out, to try and initiate any form of contact, but he could never bring himself to do it. He was too afraid of the rejection. After all, you’d more than proven that you were just fine without him.

Until now. Until this card. The company could have had an assistant make it up, write out the same old boring commendations and have the talent sign their names to it. Instead, you had handwritten a personal message, made sure the genuine pride and happiness for their seonbaenims was sincerely and accurately conveyed. And if he was a gambling man, Hoseok would bet it all that you even chose the bouquet yourself.

“Hoseok-ah?”

His attention snaps up at the call of his name, soft and questioning. His members are all staring at him with varying degrees of concern. That’s when he feels the wetness in his eyes, the vise around his throat. In his hands, the card has begun to shake.

“What is it?” Namjoon asks, approaching with a careful hand. He takes hold of the card, waits for Hoseok to release it. The paper is creased where his fingers gripped too tightly. Hoseok sniffs and wipes roughly at his eyes as Namjoon scans the message.

“What does it say?” Jungkook asks, leg bouncing in anticipation.

Namjoon’s brow furrows. He looks to Hoseok, who is pointedly staring across the room, before back to the card. His lips purse together in thought as he reads the message again. Deciphers the signatures of its senders.

Realization dawns on him like a sunrise, lighting his face in a rosy recognition. The autographs are clumsy, the sloppy signature of someone unpracticed. All of which are at odds with the firm, delicate writing of a more feminine hand. Someone clearly not a part of the group itself.

Namjoon ignores Jungkook’s question in favor of his own. “Y/N sent this?”

The room titters at the sound of your name. Hoseok isn’t the only one who misses you.

Hoseok swallows and nods his head. “It’s from her new company, the new group she’s working with. And it – it’s her handwriting.”

“I wanna see!”

The other members clamber toward their leader, each vying for a glimpse at the card. Namjoon sounds very much like a father of young children as he scolds their grabby hands, warning against ripping the card. Hoseok takes this time to examine the bouquet closely, poking at the balloons and running fingertips over flower petals. It’s a sweet arrangement, pretty and fun.

One of the balloons pops off its plastic stick and Hoseok fumbles to catch it before it hits the floor. It’s just large enough that it’s a little hard to grip, slipping between his fingers until he’s able to secure both hands around it. Huffing in equal parts annoyance and amusement, he turns to place it back in its rightful spot, when he’s struck by another unsuspecting detail of the bouquet.

There’s a sunflower, right in the middle of everything. Just the one. Usually, the flowers are repeated or at least similar in color and design. He can’t help but suspect that this was intentional, and it so, he’s not sure his heart can handle soaring at such an altitude. Because you told him once how he reminds you of a sunflower, bright and bold and open.

Balloons forgotten, Hoseok reaches out to skim the petals of the sunflower. There’s water in his eyes again, but happiness in his smile.

You haven’t forgotten him. Not yet. Now, he just has to make sure it stays that way.

→ Taglist is open! Send an ask if you’d like to be added to my general taglist, or if you’d like tagged for a specific fic series or member! @jinfizz @hobi-love @folkpunkrock-littlewing-blog @dvalitaes @pb-n-juju @fangirls94 @halesandy

©reneejuliet 2022. No part of this material may be copied, photocopied, reproduced, reposted, or translated without consent.

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madridfangirl · 2 months ago

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I think now that Louis Vuitton even sent a bouquet with white flowers to Jude congratulating him about his balloon D'or nominee this time they are going for sure dress him not his stylist Sunny .Since he is their brand ambassador.He is going to glow in that ceremony.We already saw some cool suits he wore at that photoshoot weeks ago with Louis Vuitton.So no more Kim Jong Un baggy pants in Jude 😂😂

Oh hell yeah.

He definitely gonna be in LV now for all big engagements and they will make him shine like the star he is :)

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dailyunstableeve · 1 year ago

Text

Under the Spell

Chapter (9/9)

Miguel O'Hara x My Oc (Eve)

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .

It's been two weeks since Hydra and the Red Room get taken down. During the two weeks, Eve and Miguel are quite busy over getting around the globe just to catch all the members, though Miguel will be away sometimes for the anomaly's problems. Leaving just Eve doing the mission.

After all, she has to finish what she started. With or without help.

"Traitor!"

"Yeah right, I've captured over 250,000 members over the past two weeks and all of them said that," Eve laughed.

"You came to us! Now you turn against us!"

"I did come to you guys, but it was when I have nothing to go to, now I do," Eve looked around the room, "the biggest mistake you ever do is to let me do that mission."

"Hydra will rise again, the black windows will come after you!"

"Okay, goodnight," Eve rolled her eyes and knocked out the person.

"If they rise again, I'll be there to take them down, again and again."

So it finally over, they manage to track down every single one, and lock up every single one.

Eve and Miguel move back to their normal life, she would hang around the HQ and help out Miguel with the Multiverse.

Now that Eve's secret is out, she just freely uses her power whenever she's home or in the HQ. She got a lot closer with all the Spider men, sometimes she would go on missions with Miguel about the anomalies.

"Mi Amor."

"Yes?"

"Close your eyes," Miguel asked.

"Alright," Eve uses her right hand to cover her eyes and let Miguel hold her left.

"Watch your step."

"Oh I always watch my- Whoa!" Before Eve could finish, she tripped over something, and fell into Miguel's chest, "oops."

Miguel just softly laughed and held Eve up.

"Stop laughing, where exactly are we going?"

"We're almost there," Miguel said.

A few more steps, they stopped.

"Okay you can open your eyes now."

Eve opened her eyes and the first sight she saw was balloons stuck together as a big heart shape, rose petals everywhere, fairy lights hanging on the ceilings, and a big bouquet of roses.

This is how it would look like if Eve didn't attack the HQ, the scene where Miguel was preparing for their one year anniversary.

Tears are already rolling down Eve's cheek, she never knew she could be in this moment. In the future she sees, Miguel was never able to finish decorating, and Eve died on that day. She managed to make it this far.

"Mi Amor?" Miguel was shook by Eve's reaction, he hugged Eve and started to comfort her.

"I'm okay, I'm just so happy right now," Eve cried, "I never thought I would be in this moment with you."

"Oh Mi Amor," Miguel kissed her forehead.

"Eve, will you marry me?" Miguel kneels on his one knee, holding up the ring.

"Yes, yes I will!"

Out of nowhere, Peter B, Jess, some of the Spider men and Lyla showed up, cheering for Miguel and Eve, congratulating their engagement.

★・・・・・・★

Months passed since everything ended, Hydra, the Red Room, the Mafia murder, and now, all it's left was Eve. Eve is the only thing that hasn't completely fixed.

She did find her happy ending.

Her happy ending with Miguel, the love of her life.

But Eve hasn't healed from the traumas from Hydra and the Red Room.

"Mi Amor, what are you doing?" Miguel walks in his office and sees a lot of scenes popping up around the space, it's almost impossible to see where you're stepping.

"I can't sleep, out of seven days, I only get one good night sleep, the memories haunt me, I need to find a way to stop it, there must've been a way to heal from it," Eve sounds stressed.

Like she said, she hasn't slept for a while now.

"So, what are these?" Miguel looked at the scenes, all of the scenes showed a slight moment of Eve, except there's codes.

The number of the universe.

"I mimicked your system and made it into something that I can see the other Eve's, like how you did with the other Spiderman," Eve hop down from the platform, "look at this, this is also Eve, she's also a test subject of Hydra, she manage to heal from it, find a way to fight it, which means I could too, I just need guidance."

"Are you going to find her?" Miguel asked.

"Yeah," Eve looked at Miguel as she closed all the scenes, "don't worry, I'll be back before the wedding."

"Next month, I have to spend 24 days without you," Miguel whined.

"I'll come back in 22 days, I promise."

"Alright, if you think this is the best for you, go for it," Miguel kissed her forehead.

Just like that, Eve was out of the universe for 21 days. Miguel always looked out the window, hoping she would come back early.

22 days have arrived, there's nothing.

23.

And 24. It's their wedding day. The day they finally married each other but Eve is still nowhere to be found.

Miguel didn't call off the wedding, because he knows that Eve will make it, she'll make it to the wedding.

They held the wedding at the HQ since they don't have any families to call, only the Spider-men. So what's better than that?

The music started to play, as the wedding began. Everyone looked at the door that Eve was supposed to walk in, and remained close.

Everyone started to get worried, whether Eve fled the wedding? Or she isn't coming back?

The music has played for a few minutes, everyone is just silently looking at Miguel and the door. Miguel can see everyone's concerned face.

Just as he was about to say something, a bright light shines in the air, as the light dim, leaving a hole in the air. Everyone got curious about what the hole is doing here.

"Sorry I'm late my love," a voice echoed from the hole, as a woman wearing a white dress, holding a bouquet fell out from the hole and fell into Miguel's arm.

The moment when Miguel hears the voice, he's already having his arms ready to catch the person, the love of his life.

"Mi Amor."

"The dress got delayed, I thought other universe designs would look great," Eve chuckled.

It's a white dress but it was made from as many universes as she can go to just get some white fabric.

Every universe has its own beauty, and its own color.

They are not from the same universe but that dress is a sign that, even if it's a different universe, they are still brought together.

And live happily ever after.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .

Prev~

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .

Hihi!

I hope you guys enjoyed the fanfic.

I had the idea for quite some time already, and I always wanted to write something about Spy and superheroes. And this is the perfect fanfic for it!

I tried my best to have the Spider Man iconic moment rewritten with Eve and Miguel.

I did the upside down kiss 👀

The Nat and Clint or Peter Gwen thingy (just realized it's always the male who holding the female, and the female being the one that fall, oops)

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel fanfic #miguel fanfiction #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel #atsv #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #astv miguel

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underragingwaves · 2 years ago

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Rating: Teen & Up Audiences Word count: 2.1k Warnings: none, though if you dislike modern AUs (or flower shop AUs) this is not the best fic for you Written for: day six of the @vikingsevents Vernal Equinox event, which featured the picture prompt that I used in the above banner. A bit later than I'd hoped, but couldn't force the muse into trying this new pairing (Ubbe/Thora) before it felt right!

She’s quite aware that she’s staring. Or, well, pausing her fingers between the congratulations and get well soon cards as the man ducks his head and enters the space behind the counter. Thora thinks it might constitute as staring, what she’s doing, eyeing this man up and down like that, but she’s never been good at hiding her interest.

“Can I help you?”

She shifts from foot to foot. “Depends,” she hedges, trying to stare at the balloons on the congratulations card rather than at his long braid that swings back and forth while he walks. She’s acutely aware that she’s failing this attempt to not stare at the man in front of her rather spectacularly. Draws a deep breath and squares her shoulders. “I really want a cactus or something. Some big ugly fuck-off pointy thing, you know?”

To his credit, his eyebrows barely lift in surprise at that description. “Right,” he hums. The corners of his too-blue eyes crinkle just a little while his voice deepens on the next question. “You want a card to go with that?”

“Sure”– she picks the most juvenile balloon-having one and tosses it onto the counter –“I’ll take this one.”

“Might be tricky to attach that to a cactus,” he admits, not quite touching the card but definitely registering its perky congratulatory presence by the way his mouth quirks up into half a smile. “Especially one of those, what was it, big and ugly fuck-off pointy ones?”

“Do you have any alternatives that go with the message congratulations on being the most insufferable and miserable bastard I have ever met?”

“You don’t want a cactus for that.”

“I don’t?” One of her brows arches at the immediacy of his response. It’s as if this request is something commonplace to him, judging from the way he smiles and the assured manner of his motions. “I thought it’d be appropr–”

“Some people love cacti. Or succulents, for that matter. Message like that, you’re going to want a bouquet. Something with tricky flowers. Something that looks pretty enough.”

“I don’t want pretty,” argues Thora.

“Oh, you do”– he chuckles, moving out from behind the counter and picking his way through the crowded space that’s filled with plants of all kinds –“if you want the message to sink in. Coming?”

“How am I,” she groans, tiptoeing after him and trying not to focus on the relaxed line of his very broad shoulders, “going to let that sink in? I want this asshole to be miserable about it, not put that bouquet in his scummily large apartment or that asinine white space of a corporate office and forget about the message...”

“Been to both, have you?”

“Not by choice,” she hisses.

“Ah. You know, Ivar is one of those people who like cacti.”

That makes her stop dead.

“Excuse me?”

“My baby brother. The one you’re mad at.”

She actually, damn her pride, takes a step or two back at that. Can see the family resemblance now if she squints at those bright blue eyes a little too long, though the eyes of the man before her now look infinitely softer and kinder than Ivar Lothbrok’s eyes ever did. Thora huffs out a breath. Hugs herself as the man almost seems to make himself look smaller in the space they share.

“How’d you know?” she whispers.

The man shrugs. “Town like this? Either they’re mad at Ivar, or they’re mad at Finehair.” A pause. Deliberate. Weighing. “And Finehair doesn’t keep white office spaces.”

“And you… are still…”

“Going to help you pick those flowers?” he asks, already reaching for flowers she doesn’t know the name of and deftly plucking ferns out of hitherto unseen places. “I think he deserves to be congratulated, don’t you? These flowers will be fine.” His grin, fleeting, is almost shark-like. “Some might be prickly. Skin irritants, even”– he chuckles, undeterred by such things thanks to the dark gloves he wears –“and they start to reek after a few days. He’s got a business trip coming up. When he gets back…”

“… his whole space will smell like garbage?”

Ivar’s older brother’s got the audacity to wink at her. “Are you on board?”

She finds herself grinning back. “Oh yeah.”

-----------------------------------------------

Next time she’s in Aslaug’s Florals, she actually knows enough about him to be able to greet him by name.

Ubbe looks up at the sound of her greeting long enough to nod at her before he turns back to the book in front of him. Neat rows of black, written text and numbers seem to pop off the white of the pages while his pen hovers over the next line. A small frown creases his brow as he carefully crosses a number out, then writes another close to the margin.

“Bookkeeping?”

“Fucking tax season,” he grunts.

“Filed mine last week,” she says, shivering at the memory. “Don’t trust a bookie to be able to make heads or tails of the ink orders, so I spend a weekend just pouring over the numbers myself. Hassle.”

“Yeah. You an artist?”

“Tattoos,” she explains, letting her sleeves roll back a little to reveal the intricate braided designs on her wrists. “Got my own shop down on Hedeby Road. Hole in the wall, really, but it’s good like that. Not a family business like yours, though.”

He leans back in his seat. “You’ve been asking around, huh.”

“Imagine my surprise”– she hums –“when nothing blew back on me. When all I got in the mail was an unsigned card addressed to the anonymous benefactor that said Ivar hasn’t slept in his own place for at least a week.” Thora puts both her hands on the counter. Leans over it long enough to catch the smell of ink and herbs. “It could make a girl wonder what happened between an older and a younger brother, as I’m sure you’d agree…”

His gaze shutters. “Learn anything interesting?”

“Loads.” She shrugs. “Not my business, though. I’m here for another bouquet.”

“I’m technically closed for business.”

“I know,” she says, nodding at the sign on the window and at the unlocked door that allowed her entry anyway, “but this is a slight emergency. Not every day your best friend finally leaves her asshole of a husband and shacks up with a woman instead.” She grins. “I was thinking an it’s a girl!-card for her?”

“Gunnhild likes snapdragons.”

“And orchids, but those won’t hold in a vase.”

“Björn hates cornflowers,” he hums thoughtfully, setting his pen down on the counter. “I might just send him those with a condolences card attached.”

Thora sniggers as his smile becomes almost conspiratorial. “You’re not so bad, Ubbe Lothbrok,” she decides, flushing slightly as his gaze fixates on her. “Wanna help me pick some flowers?”

He nods. “Might as well, tattoo girl.”

“It’s Thora,” she informs him as he rises to his feet. “You should probably call me that, given that we know all the same people.” She tries not to chew on her lip while he keeps staring at her. Fails miserably, if the warmth in her cheeks and slight sting of her lip is anything to go by. “Do you think Ingrid will like the flowers, too?”

“If she doesn’t, it’s no skin off my back. Doing this for Gunny. She’s good folk.”

“Yeah,” agrees Thora quietly, “yeah, she is.”

She decides she definitely likes Ubbe when he quietly goes to work on Gunnhild’s flowers. He is not one of the bragging types that have filled her life so far, though the plants and flowers he keeps are rumoured to be among the best in all of Norway. There’s something of a gentle touch to his fingers as he snips away a branch there, plucks a flowering stem out of its water, arranges the bouquet in such a way that even the few included roses do not cause any harm to one’s fingers.

On occasion, he will murmur something about a plant or herb as he works on it. Will greet it, even, with a soft touch that belies the spider’s web of tattoos and scars that litters his lower arms. Thora finds herself following the lines – the stuttering, halting, unclean lines as much as the fresher-looking sharp edges – and colors in a warm flush when she suddenly finds him looking back at her.

She’s certain he almost says something. Almost calls her out on the fact that her gaze was creeping down to that little patch of skin right above his waistband that seemed shaded in a blue color.

Thora doesn’t know if it’s a good thing that he keeps silent instead.

-----------------------------------------------

She’s gone back to his shop twice. Once for a get well soon-bouquet for Amma, who’d been nursing her pride and a broken cheekbone after making Hvitserk teach her boxing, which had made Ubbe laugh out loud for the first time she’d met him because that girl can’t keep anything alive. He’d made her a bouquet anyway, all sprigs of rosemary and thyme, and told her to spend her money on better things next time. She’d smacked his arm and told him Amma is better things, flower-killer or not, and he had smiled like she’d just entrusted him with a secret.

The next time, as it turned out, had been her just needing an art reference because someone had come in demanding a patchwork of flowers on their arm. It had been the time she’d been in Ubbe’s shop the longest, chugging down coffee after coffee while sketching out numerous flowers and leaves, listening in on his easy but brief conversations with customers and finally hiding out in the cramped room behind the counter while Ivar had stomped around the shop long enough to be a nuisance.

It’s always been her going to see him. It has never been him coming to see her.

Until now.

“Flowers?” she asks, holding the bouquet aloft as she squints against the sun, mesmerized by the way the yellow of the flowers interplays with the blues of the sky. There’s a tattoo in that, if she tries to make it work, but she doubts these are meant for such a purpose. “To what do I owe this… dubious pleasure?”

“You cannot call it dubious,” he points out, “just because you buy people flowers for weird occasions.”

“They weren’t that weird.”

Ubbe’s hum is so carefully noncommittal that she almost screams to hear it. He’s good at this – keeping his voice level, keeping his face a careful and most inscrutable neutral – to the point where she can hardly tell what he’s thinking about any of it at all. Thora supposes one would need to be, with a baby brother like Ivar who chips away at every visible flaw and a brother like Hvitserk who is all raw feeling on the inside.

It doesn’t make conversations with Ubbe easier to navigate.

“What’s the occasion?”

“There’s a card,” he says.

Thora lowers the bouquet. Squints at the thinking of you!-message perched atop a sunflower. “Thinking of me?” she repeats, flicking it open to see if its inside makes more sense than its outside. “Why would you think of me, I’m right here and… Oh. Oh!”

Coffee for two? is the carefully scrawled message, followed by the same x with which Amma always signs off her texts to her many flirts. Amma had once claimed she’d learned that from the best – a man she hadn’t dated, by her own admission, but one she respected – and Thora…

“You’re asking me out?” she hedges, torn between hope and disbelief. “As… as friends? O-or..?”

“I’m hoping more,” he says, ducking his head as a new sort of smile flickers at the corner of his mouth. Something softer, more private, more real than anything she’s seen from him before. “If you want to.”

Thora looks at her bouquet. Studies him over the tops of yellow and white flowers she’s yet to learn the names of. She can’t help the grin that is answer enough already, though she nods for emphasis as well.

“Coffee,” she says, “and then… a kiss?”

“Proper order of things.”

She whistles, low and daring, as her gaze unwillingly flickers down to his lips. “Right.”

“If I kiss you now,” he murmurs, voice softening to a near-purr, “we’ll never get that coffee…”

Thora’s head tilts. “We could… get that coffee some other time?”

His hand is warm against her cheek. There are specks of light in his eyes that dim as soon as his nose brushes against hers. “Some other time,” he agrees, and kisses her.

#vikings #vernalvikings #ubbe #thora #ubbe x thora #urwfic #idk we're trying new horizons here kiddos #they're very cute!

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