#a bit early for pride month but i wanted to draw so happy week early pride | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

parvuls · 3 years ago

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fic: need seek no further

Jack shrugs. “Eh. Bittle likes Cabot butter best.”

a disgustingly fluffy, plotless ficlet about how well jack knows bitty and how he perfected the skill of nonverbal communication through the force of sheer will. also, the frogs.

read on ao3

Dex called Bitty one evening in early May, let Bitty shower him with hellos, and then stated, “We won the NCAA championship.” He said it matter-of-factly, like maybe Jack and Bitty hadn’t been there when it happened, like Jack hadn’t watched him cling to Bitty for a full minute after the stands had spilled onto the ice.

“You did,” Bitty replied, raising his eyes to meet Jack’s with confusion wrinkling between his brows. His phone was set on the kitchen island between them, Dex’s voice filling their kitchen through speaker phone while Bitty’s floured hands were busy kneading dough. Jack was keeping him company on another last-minute testing session for his rhubarb pie recipe, even though the last proof of his book had been approved by his editors over two weeks before. Jack was running out of team members to send leftovers to.

“And Whiskey got voted captain,” Dex continued.

Jack watched as Bitty squinted down at his phone. Bitty had spent half an hour on the phone with Whiskey the night of the banquet; he hadn’t disclosed the details of their conversation to Jack, but his face when he’d returned to their room, had sat down next to Jack on the bed and had leaned his forehead on Jack’s bicep for a long while -- Jack had seen that face before. Had known that expression meant pride.

“So we were talking about it just now,” there was the sound of more people whispering furiously in the background, and Jack thought he could maybe hear Chowder’s unsteady voice calling out, hey Bitty!, and only then he began contemplating the solid possibility that Dex may have been a little drunk. “And -- so we won last year, with you, and now we won again, and we wanna keep winning, right? So we gotta make sure to keep doing everything that’s working.”

“Sure, sweetheart,” Bitty said agreeably, faintly amused. It was obvious to Jack from his tone that Bitty, at least, had already realized Dex was a little drunk, but was only too happy to play along.

“‘Swawesome,” Dex said fervently, like Bitty had agreed to something very important. “So you see why Whiskey’s gotta learn to make a pie.”

That stopped Bitty in his tracks. Jack blinked, watched Bitty’s long fingers halt their motions in the dough, the pressure of his fingerprints leaving crescent grooves behind. “William Joseph, that doesn’t make a lick of sense,” he said, and narrowed his eyes at the screen of his phone like Dex could feel their weight on him through the line. But then he seemed to think it over again, and the pitch of his voice rose as he demanded, “Wait, are you sayin’ Whiskey’s willing to learn how to bake?”

“He says he’ll do it for the win,” Dex said, and Bitty gaped at the phone, then gaped at Jack, and with his cheeks pink and his eyes wide he exclaimed, “Of course I’ll do it!”, like there’d ever been any other option to consider.

Jack kept it to himself, but he had no doubt in his mind that there hadn’t been.

Dex, Chowder and Nursey wait for them at the doorway of the Haus, broad shoulders wedged together in the narrow doorframe.

Bitty had said before they left home, “You don’t have to come, sweetpea,” and Jack had said, simply, “I want to,” and had meant it. It was only in the summer months that Jack had the privilege to see his friends whenever he wished to, and now that the Falconers were out of the playoffs -- well, Jack was feeling a little more withdrawn lately, even quieter than usual, but this felt like something he genuinely wanted to do with the time on his hands. There was also the fact that soon the frogs would graduate, and with them gone Jack would be too far removed to visit the Haus comfortably, even if Bitty still could.

Right now Jack could, and he wanted to, so Bitty and he got in Bitty’s car and drove the forty-five minutes down to Samwell, Bitty’s phone hooked through the aux and his hands tapping on the wheel to the beat. He was nervous, although Jack wasn’t sure exactly why -- only knew it was obvious in Bitty’s restless hands and the frequency he switched songs midway through. Jack reached out and placed his hand on Bitty’s thigh, squeezed, and let Bitty burn his nervous energy whatever way he deemed best.

“We did all the shopping!” Chowder announces as Jack and Bitty walk up the porch steps, and then immediately bounces forward and wraps Bitty in a hug. His long limbs envelope Bitty within them, and soon Jack’s dragged into their circle, too, feels Nursey’s arms fold around his shoulders and Dex’s tentative hand patting him on the back. It doesn’t overwhelm him like it could’ve, maybe, a year or two ago -- it just feels nice, familiar, welcoming. A display of affection he readily returns.

When the huddle breaks, the five of them shuffle through the door and head straight into the kitchen. It looks about the same as it has since Bitty took over it five years ago -- no longer just a room with a fridge full of beers and a broken down table, but a real kitchen, with Suzanne’s hand-sewn curtains and clear countertops and the oven that Jack is still irrationally fond of. Although it seems like it’s been revamped in the months since Jack has last seen it; the cupboards’ hinges are no longer busted, and there are actual shelves stacked along the walls. Jack assumes the likely suspect is Samwell Men’s Hockey current captain, and has to curb a revealing smile that would surely draw questions. It’s another unspoken team tradition, Jack thinks, recalling freshman Will Poindexter: no one leaves it entirely unchanged.

“Y’all are joining us for some baking lessons?” Bitty asks Nursey and Chowder, hand almost unconsciously drifting over the edge of the counters. He looks good there, really, looks right. He’s not the same as he was when he graduated and certainly not the same as when he first claimed this kitchen, but to Jack, Bitty would always look right in the sun streaming through the Haus’ dusty windows, puttering between pots and pans.

“Nah, C and I will get out of your hair for that, but Whiskey isn’t back yet so we’ve got some time. And anyway --” Nursey glances sideways at Dex and Chowder, fails at stifling a smile, “uh, the waffles heard you were coming today, Bits.”

“Going by their reaction, they’ve definitely missed you,” Dex says, arms crossed over his chest, his face serious but a single upwards quirk to the corner of his mouth. It could be a chirp at the waffles, maybe, but Jack is almost certain that it’s sincere nonetheless.

Bitty turns to the shopping bags spread across the counter and starts picking them apart, taking out the ingredients for inspection before setting them down with that same nervous energy, the one that rarely ever follows Bitty into his domain in the kitchen. Jack watches him smile at Dex, honest but jittery, and realizes what he should’ve already known -- how very important it is to Bitty that this goes perfectly.

“Oh, bless them, I’ve missed them too! I’ll tell them hello so we can get started right after,” Bitty says, setting down a bag of brown sugar and taking out a packet of butter from the bag. He looks -- momentarily disappointed, and Jack frowns, searches Bitty’s face. It’s probably only visible to Jack, who recognizes the subtle shift in Bitty’s jaw and the fleeting movement of his eyebrows, but still. He follows Bitty’s eyes down to his hands and to the butter in them, and surveys it for a moment, deep in thought.

“You’ve got two seconds to prepare yourself, bro,” Nursey warns, and then Bully, Hops and Louis descend loudly into the kitchen, flock around Bitty like ducklings. Bitty’s always had that effect on hockey players, on people, even before he got the C. It’s with intense fondness that Jack thinks it, knows the feeling intimately as someone who’s lucky enough to experience that affect every day. He can’t blame them for the way they beam down at Bitty, fight for his attention, laugh when he laughs at the rising volume of their clashing, simultaneous stories.

It’s a good opportunity if nothing else, though, so Jack shoulders his way between Bully and Louis, brushes two fingers over Bitty’s elbow to get his attention. When Bitty turns his head, Jack takes advantage of his height to lean in and say into Bitty’s ear, “Hey, bud, I’m stepping out for a moment.”

Bitty smiles at him, reaches up to stroke a hand down Jack’s cheek just warmly enough to be soothing, just quickly enough to be appropriate. “Yeah, of course. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, and thinks, it will be. He pauses, looks down threateningly at the waffles, and leans in to kiss Bitty's temple swiftly, before someone he can’t intimidate as easily as these sophomores could try fining him for it. The space he leaves between Bully and Louis closes as soon as he leaves their side, Bitty disappearing from sight behind their tall forms, but the sound of his cheerful laughter rings after Jack as he walks out of the kitchen and exits through the front door.

When Jack comes back he has to open the door one-handed, the other one busy clutching the handles of a grocery bag. His cap is pulled down low, a protective measure from the crowd that swarmed the Stop and Shop on Pemberton, so it takes a few steps into the Haus’ hallway for him to notice Whiskey hovering in the kitchen doorway, apparently stopped right on his way out of it.

“Jack,” Whiskey looks surprised -- or maybe still mildly star-struck, Jack has always had trouble telling with his face. “You’re here. I haven’t seen you.”

“Got some stuff from the shop,” Jack raises the bag by way of explanation, adjusts his hat, and after a brief moment of stillness hunches his shoulders to bypass Whiskey into the kitchen.

Whiskey bends his neck to peer down into the bag as Jack passes. He looks somewhat horrified at what he finds, as much as Whiskey ever betrays his emotions -- a slight frown, a barely noticeable widening of his eyes. “We need more groceries for this thing?”

Jack shrugs, noncommittal. They don’t, really, but. “Eh. Bittle likes Cabot butter best.”

The frogs and waffles have moved to the den while Jack was out -- he can hear them now, Bully’s low voice and Chowder’s quick speech and Hops’ rolling laughter -- but Bitty must’ve heard Jack come in, because he appears next to Whiskey in the kitchen doorway. His gaze darts between the two of them before it lands on the bag hanging from Jack’s fingers, and Jack reaches in to pull out one stick of butter, holding it out so Bitty can see the brand. Bitty’s eyes light up when he realizes, go round and bright, and he declares, “Sweetpea, you shouldn’t have!”, in the tone that means he’s beyond pleased that Jack did.

“That's more butter,” Whiskey says, staring at Bitty and then at the butter already stacked on the counter from the frogs’ shopping trip, clearly bewildered.

Jack twists his body, turns his back to them to find an empty spot somewhere on the counter. “Cabot has a half percent more fat, and Bittle likes his crust flaky,” he explains absently while emptying the contents of the bag onto the spot he chose. It’s important to Bitty that this goes perfectly, and while Jack can’t control Whiskey's abilities in the kitchen, wouldn’t be able to fix baking mishaps if those occur, this is something he can do. Make sure Bitty has the best conditions to work in, grant him a little peace of mind.

When he turns back around Whiskey is gone, and it’s only Bitty standing behind him, his eyes twinkling and his lips parted slightly.

“What?” Jack asks, confused.

There’s a long stretch of silence while Bitty just looks at him. Jack’s rarely comfortable with intense scrutiny from others, but Bitty -- Bitty’s gaze is soft, and he looks at Jack like he’s something good, something to admire. It’s a look he gives Jack often, usually accompanied by the gentlest of kisses, the warmest of hugs, the kindest of words. Sometimes Jack’s mind is slow to catch up, too stubborn to be convinced of his own worthiness, but this is the look Bitty gets when his emotions are broadcasted so loudly that even Jack’s mind has to pipe down and listen.

Bitty takes a few steps closer, grabs Jack’s palm between both his hands. “Marry me?” he asks breathily, with a smile curling at his lips.

Warmth flutters in Jack’s stomach at the words, and an answering smile grows on his own lips. The ring glints on Bitty’s finger whenever he moves his hands, is glinting now, where his fingers are curled around Jack’s in the sunny kitchen. It’s been a distraction many times in the past year, but each time Jack sees it he’s reminded of what Bitty and he have promised to each other. The future that is still to come.

There’s no one in the kitchen but them, and the Haus residents sound busy enough in the other room that no one would notice if Jack stole a lone moment. “Sorry, I can’t,” Jack deadpans, grabs Bitty by his hips and gathers him into his arms. His fingers slide over the soft fabric of Bitty’s clothes and find the gap between his top and his shorts, dipping inside to rub against Bitty’s warm skin. “It’s a tempting offer, but I’m already engaged.”

“Leave him, then,” Bitty says without missing a beat. He tilts his head up to nudge Jack’s cheek with his nose, wraps his strong arms around Jack’s neck. His face is so close to Jack’s that Jack can count his pale eyelashes, can see the splotches of fading pink on his skin. He’s been spending a lot of time editing his cookbook on their balcony since springtime has arrived, and his body tans nicely but the bridge of his nose has been reddened and peeling for a while. “Run away with me.”

Jack can’t help the temptation, kisses Bitty’s right cheek and then his left one. “Sorry, bud.”

“Why ever not,” Bitty sighs, most dramatically, and uses his grip on Jack’s neck to lean his upper body backwards. “A man who knows his butters? You better believe I’m willing to fight for you, mister.”

It’s the sincerity in his voice that has heat prickling across Jack’s skin, raw pleasure squirming in his chest. It’s a futile battle, though, a battle Jack realized was lost when he dropped Bitty off at this very Haus after their very first summer together, longingly watched him skip up the stairs and thought, oh, I wanna marry him. “I can’t,” he tells Bitty quietly, pulls him closer so the words stay trapped between them, rough and intimate like a secret. “I love my fiancé too much.”

“Oh,” and Bitty flushes at this, red blossoming on the apples of his cheeks like he’s flattered -- like the ring around his finger hasn’t been there for a year, like Jack hasn’t taken to kissing it before kissing Bitty goodbye on nights he leaves for games; like Jack loving him too much to ever consider anyone else is still a novelty, a compliment, after all this time. “Well. Lucky him.”

Lucky me, Jack thinks, and bows his head to fit his mouth to Bitty’s in for a lingering sweet kiss.

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #zimbits #zimbits fic #you'd think one would want to capitalize one's frogs and waffles. but bitty's lack of capitalization on twitter claims otherwise #and who am i to argue #pavfics

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

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Stray Kids Reaction | Going All Out For Pride Month [Request]

Stray Kids x GN!Reader

A/N: I’ve never been to pride month despite being apart of the LGBTQ+ 🥺 So you’ll have to bare with me if things aren’t spot on, I wanted to get them as different from one another as possible xx Hopefully if Lockdown is lifted I can go to this years, my favourite Drag queen is going to be at the event closest to me!!

CHAN:

As soon as Chan walked into the dorms he was greeted with the smell of baked goods flowing through the entire apartment as well as giggles and laughter coming from the kitchen.

"Babe?" He called out as he realised one of the voices he could hear was yours, he placed his work stuff down in the hallway and headed into the kitchen where he saw you and Felix standing together at the table. Both of you were covered in icing sugar, flour and who knew what else.

"Hi baby, you're home early," You greeted him as you walked over to him, leaning forward to kiss him carefully since your hands were covered in food dye.

"What have you two been up to?" Chan chuckled as he looked down at the table to see that it was covered in baked goods all decorated with rainbows on them.

"Baking for Pride. We're going to take them to work tomorrow," Felix announced proudly as he picked up one of the rainbow cupcakes for Chan to try. It was a recipe you had been working on perfecting all month wanting it to be right for Pride month. It was a simple confetti cake only with more sprinkles and rainbow icing on the top.

"This is amazing," Chan moaned out as soon as he bit into the cake, you smiled brightly hugging him tightly as he wrapped his arms around your body embracing you not caring that he was getting covered in ingredients.

"I'm proud of you," He told you as he followed you further into the kitchen, watching as you wash your hands off.

"Proud of me?" You asked, confused as to where this was all coming from but Chan just wrapped his arms around you, placing his head in your neck and kissing your shoulder softly.

"Proud of you for being open about your sexuality and happy about it. It's nice to see you this happy," He smiled again before kissing your shoulder and heading off for a shower.

MINHO:

For the last week leading up to the start of pride month, you and Minho had been hunting for every single decoration you could potentially find. Together you were decorating the entire apartment you shared with one another, having flags in the windows, a flag on your front door as well as a doormat that announced that you were out and proud.

"Perfect!" Minho said as he clapped his hands together, looking at the flag you had just put in the window of your apartment, smiling as you came out to join him to take a look.

"It's not too much?" You questioned, you had been worried he would think all of the decorating and going all out to celebrate would be too much but you couldn't have been further from the truth.

"It's not enough." He whispered as he chuckled softly, he was proud of you for being out and proud about who you were and he would do everything to make sure you knew that.

"Well Felix is baking those cupcakes with Chan's partner, we can steal some tomorrow when they take them to work." Minho told you as you turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him softly happy that your boyfriend was proud of you just like you were.

CHANGBIN:

It had been Changbin's idea to throw a party for Pride month, nothing too big but something with some close friends and family to come along to in celebration of Pride. Changbin had gone all out on everything, ordering decorations months in advance, hiring professional caterers to provide some food fit for Pride. He knew how much celebrating your sexuality and being proud to be yourself meant to you and he wanted to do everything in his power to show you he was the same. Supporting you in any way that he could.

"Changbin, this is insane," You laughed as you joined his side, the party had been amazing so far everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. There were some games in the living room, music in the kitchen where all of the food was, it was incredible to see how much thought and effort Changbin had put into this.

"Anything for my babe," He whispered as he wrapped his arm around your waist and took you into the living room, watching as Seungmin and Jisung attempted to play beer pong together both of them failing to even get one ball into the cups.

"You guys suck," You laughed picking up one of the ping bong balls, throwing one ball and getting straight into Seungmin's cup,

"Drink up pup," You called out happily as you returned to Changbin, getting a kiss on the cheek as he began leading you through the party again.

HYUNJIN:

The whole thing was Hyunjin's idea, since lockdown was still in effect the two of you couldn't go to parties or pride parade's since most of them had been cancelled. Instead, Hyunjin gave you the idea of supporting LGBTQ+ artists, going out to purchase books, artwork and other items from creators who were a part of the LGBTQ+ community. Ending up in owning so many books neither you nor Hyunjin had space for them but it didn't matter, you were just happy you could still celebrate and take part in Pride month despite there being a worldwide pandemic happening around you both.

"You need to read this one next," You said as you showed Hyunjin the book you had just finished, he glanced up from his copy of "Red, White and Royal blue" and smiled as he nodded.

"Only if you read this one," You agreed with him, switching books as soon as he finished letting him read Carry On which you had just finished.

JISUNG:

When you asked Jisung to attend a pride parade with you, you had no idea he would be as excited as he was until the day. He'd picked you up at your apartment and he was dressed to the nines in rainbows, sporting a bag which he said had an outfit for you.

"I didn't know if you had a flag so I got you one," He said as he pulled out a flag you could wrap around your body to walk around the parade with and he smiled. Jumping up and down as he waited for you to get changed, he was excited about going to his first pride parade and had been doing research on what would be happening and what he could look forward to.

"I saw that one of your favourite drag queens is going to be at one of the bars local to the parade, shall we head inside and see if we can meet them?" He quizzed you as you headed into the streets where everyone was out in full pride gear, smiling and cheering in celebration.

"Sure!" You yelled out over the music, taking his hand in yours as you both headed out for the day full of fun activities.

FELIX:

It would be your first pride month since coming out and Felix wanted to do something with you to celebrate but he wasn't sure what there was to do. He'd done a bunch of research leading up to the month and found out there were some workshops happening in the town centre so he booked you both in for a few of them. The first one was a t-shirt workshop where you would both design your own pride shirts and then get to wear them home.

"This is more fun then I imagined," You laughed as you looked up from your paper, you'd been designing four t-shirts but Felix was still struggling on his first one. He figured designing a t-shirt would be fun and easy but it was proving to be harder than he thought to come up with a design for the front of his shirt.

"Here, babe." You laughed moving closer to your boyfriend and taking his hands in yours, he closed his eyes and you smiled.

"Take a deep breath, relax...It's just a shirt...A shirt you want to wear, whatever you want on the front to express yourself on it..." He nodded along with everything you were saying and as soon as you let go of his hands he began drawing designs down, smiling at himself when he pulled away from the paper to show you his idea. A small pride flag embroidered into the top left of the shirt and on the back was all of the different flags that were part of the LGBTQ+ with the quote, "I'm an ally," above them.

"Perfect." You told him as you leant forward to kiss his lips softly.

SEUNGMIN:

You'd been in Korea since lockdown began which meant flying home wasn't an option, you were going to miss out on Pride and Seungmin knew how much it meant to you so he decided to surprise you. He'd gone out shopping while you were in the dorms one day and he bought a bunch of arts and craft items, canvases, paint and more.

"What's all this?" You questioned as you walked into the kitchen one morning to see Seungmin getting everything ready for you both, two blank canvases on the table as he stared up at you.

"Since we can't go out for Pride and you can't go home I figured we could celebrate our own way." Your mouth fell open as you stared at him, smiling happily as you walked over to hug him tightly.

"We can make our own flags, I also go a bunch of LGBTQ+ Movies that we can watch while we're painting." He explained everything he had planned for the day, even if it wasn't a party of parade it was perfect. Getting to celebrate with someone who loved you and was proud of you in every sense of the word.

JEONGIN:

"What are you doing?" You laughed softly as Jeongin kept his hands over your eyes, leading you through the park he'd brought you too. He'd told you he had something special planned for the day but that was all he told you before bringing you here.

"You'll see, sit," He chuckled as he knelt own on a blanket, letting you sit down in front of him, once you were comfortable he slowly lifted his hands from your eyes and you gasped out. The boys were all in the park with you, small pride flags painted on each of their cheeks, surrounding you all was a picnic blanket with food. The blanket was a huge rainbow flag and you let out another happy gasp, turning to Jeongin who was having a flag painted onto his cheek.

"You're next," He laughed as he caught you staring at him. It was just the other night that you were telling him about how upset you were about not getting to celebrate Pride month back home with friends and he knew he had to do something special for you in order to make you feel happy again.

"Felix and Seungmin had been baking all night. Minho and Jisung went out and got everything ready this morning when I came for you." You inched closer to your boyfriend, laying your head down on his shoulder as you thanked him for everything.

Tagline: @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @minholuvr69 @sw33tnight @acciocriativity @that-anxious-bisexual

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janetbrown711 · 4 years ago

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My headcanons about Queen Angelina II

Majority of these can be seen in this fic, so if you like the idea go check it out ;)

Also- a handful of these are shared with the lovely @madelynartz, who also has fantastic takes on her, so be sure to check out their post too

If you want me to draw/write any of these specific headcanons/moments, just send an ask and I’ll probably do it

I’ll (likely) be making another, seperate post for William when i feel like it

Update: I have

This is gonna be a long post-

Early Life:

Her parents weren't very loving or caring, only ever wanting her to work on her studies and singing

Her mother was worse than her father, as she was egotistical and always critical of Angelina II and always seemed to find problems with things and people that made her happy

Her mother also always went by her full name (You had to refer to her as Queen Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the First- she wouldn't let people shorten it)

Naturally- Angelina resented her mother and with that, her own name.

She hates it when people say her full name- "Just Angelina is fine"

But if she especially likes you, you can call her Lena ;)

Since the only thing her parents approved of was studying, she devoured the entire castle library as a child, which left her often more informed than her tudors, which left her bored during lessons and she quickly became a "smart-ass" as she liked to talk back and figure out the ways she could get out of lessons

She hated the idea of getting betrothed, and any time a suitor would come over, she'd attack his pride in any form she could think of to get them to hate her, and she was successful

One of the suitors was Prince Salazar

She hated Salazar the most

Despite her attitude being well known across several kingdoms, rumors of her beauty and wonderous singing kept them coming

Her father, King Harold the Eighth, died when she was 10, and she could hardly say she really grieved him, but it made her mother more distant and sometimes outright cruel

She met William when he was 15 in the royal stables when he was training to be a squire

He fell in love instantly, though Angelina wanted to get to know him first

They were the best of friends since they met, though it was obvious Queen Angelina I disapproved

However, after awhile Angelina just stopped caring about what her mother thought entirely and was much better off

She and William loved to garden together, and always planted new flowerbeds in the palace garden every spring

William proposed when he was 22 and she was 21

Obviously she said yes, but they had to keep it hidden from her mother, who would likely take William away

Luckily for them, Angelina I died a month after he proposed, and the two were quickly married.

Yakko:

Yakko was born 10 months after their wedding

Angelina fell in love instantly, declaring him to be the cutest baby she had ever seen

She's terrible with names, and never named her children until after they were born

She hated the idea of giving him a really long and convoluted name, or a name that was in her family (like Harold the 9th)

And so Yakko it was

She didn't expect motherhood to be so exhausting, but hearing Yakko's laugh for the first time made everything worth it to her

Yakko began babbling at a younger age than most, and he babbled constantly, even in his sleep. Angelina loved to just sit and listen to him try to tell stories in nonsense baby language

However, Yakko seemed to have a preference for hearing William give the bedtime stories, as when she tried to read he got fussy

Once he was able to explain he said "daddo does the voices" and that he preferred her lullabies anyway

It hurt at first, but she understood. William was an excellent story teller, though he did have a tendency to ramble at times

Yakko's favorite story was of how they met

She's very protective, and if he was sick or hurt, she'd never leave his side

Her hair used to be very, very long but once Yakko was able to grab things and kept yanking her hair, she chopped it all off and has kept it short ever since

Wakko:

Wakko didn’t cry or breathe when he was born, so for the first moments of his life, Angelina and William feared he was dead

He wasn’t dead though, and they rejoiced greatly, and cried a lot

Angelina refused to let go of him though, and they were only able to get Wakko away from her when she fell asleep from exhaustion

After about a week or so, she relaxed more, but she needless to say her protectiveness went to new heights

“Lena, Yakko slept in a crib all the time, it’s fine-” “How do you know that?” “Lena, I was there.”

William did always have a way to reassure her though

However, the extra layer of protectiveness was kinda needed for Wakko, as he loved to bite and chew on everything and anything he could get his little hands on (including his own tail)

She eventually gained what William described as a “sixth sense” where she could just tell when Wakko put something he wasn’t supposed to in his mouth.

Wakko didn’t talk much when he was young, especially when compared to Yakko, though his brother seemed to get him to talk even more than his parents could

They didn’t mind though, whatever worked, worked

Wakko loved following Yakko everywhere he went the moment he could crawl. Angelina thought it was adorable.

Wakko had a tendency to hurt himself a lot (whether by tripping, crashing, bitting his tail too hard, etc.) which forced Angelina to learn that he’ll be okay, and not to overreact or panic, as he was most certainly not made of glass

Angelina had a tendency to be a worry-wart

Dot:

Angelina became pregnant with Dot right before tensions with Ticktockia started to rise, but William was determined not to let that ruin their optimism about having another child that was hopefully a girl

Angelina really wanted a girl bc Yakko and Wakko didn’t like dressing up and she really hoped a girl would, though she knew there wasn’t ever a guarantee, but she hoped

Angelina went into labor in the middle of a meeting with an ambassador from Ticktockia, but forced herself to finish it bc she ain’t a quitter

Despite Dot being her third child, she took the longest to actually deliver (two days), likely due to the exhaustion from countless meetings with Ambassadors and the stress of trying to avoid war bc King Salazar decided past treaties suddenly didn’t mean anything

Angelina had originally been against giving her her name, as she still associated it with her mother, but William said that he only thought of her, and that she was a much better mother and person than Angelina I could’ve ever been, which changed her mind.

However, she had thought of the name Dot before she was born, and liked it to so she and William agreed they’d just call her that for short, and if you asked them “how is Dot short for Princess Angelina blah blah blah the Third, they’d reply “it just is”)

Though she wouldn’t tell Yakko or Wakko, Dot was most certainly the cutest baby of them all

Wakko and Yakko loved to just... stand over Dot’s crib and watch her do things

Wakko also didn’t grasp what a baby was, and would often try to make her do things, and when she wouldn’t he’d get upset and Angelina or William would have to explain why she can’t play with him with the toy soldiers

She’d often just ramble on and on to Dot as she slept while William watched the boys, talking about the new treaties going up, and how worried she was about what Salazar would do if he didn’t agree with the new treaties and deals. It made her feel better.

To also ease her worries, she taught Yakko how to take care of his sister. How to burp her, how to change her, how to give her a bath, etc. She hated thinking about what could possibly happen, but knowing they’d survive somehow made her feel much better.

Dot was three months old when the attack happened, and Angelina wished she had had more time with her before dying.

Misc. (bc I refuse to end on a bad/depressing note)

She had family portraits made after each of her kids were born bc she wanted to always remember how cute of babies they were

Her lullabies worked like magic in terms of getting the three of them to sleep

If you asked her, she thinks Yakko has her eyes, Wakko has her nose, and Dot has her eyes and face shape

In the space between her mother dying and their wedding, she met Hello Nurse, who was a childhood friend of William’s, and they hit it off quite well- so much so that Angelina offered her a job in the castle, but she refused, saying she had plans with some doctor in Acme Falls, which Angelina respected.

She one time tried to practice knitting in hopes of knitting the kiddos a blanket, but she was t e r r i b l e at it, and gave up after a week of trying

William and her liked to throw balls at least once a year, and everyone agreed they were the best dancers out there (what they didn’t know was how much practice Angelina had to put in to get a sense of rhythm- she was a terrible dancer, and William’s natural grace when dancing far exceeded her own)

Despite others protesting, Angelina always suspected that the reason tension was growing with Ticktockia was because Salazar was jealous and upset that she married some random knight rather than him (a theory that was proven right to her right before her death)

Her favorite food was bananas

William was a huge cuddler, so they’d cuddle close every night

she personally tutored Yakko on things like history and geography, as she felt those tended to be the most boring classes, and she wanted to have some part in his education, as she hated all of her teachers when she was a kid

She often didn’t know when to shut up, which did end up costing her in the end, but she didn’t regret a single word she said before her death, as Salazar deserved every bit of it.

#animaniacs #queen angelina warner #king william warner #wakko's wish #animaniacs fics #long post #headcanons #queen angelina ii #if you can't tell i'm in love with her #not even joking #dksfl;asjdl #I have a lot of thoughts lol #a lot of these could easily be fics #and I do want to write them lol #so seriously don't hesitate to ask

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nooneelsecomesclose17 · 3 years ago

Text

Daddy's first pride

This is probably terrible, if so I'm sorry. From the Ana'verse.

"Plain iced cupcakes with different flags or rainbow icing." Robert announced as Aaron walked in the door with Ana on his hip and Seb following, making a beeline for his toys, giving his Dad a half hearted wave, as usual too interested in playing than anything else.

"Is this a quiz or..." He sets Ana down on the floor having picked her up from Sarah. He just stares at his husband, surrounded by recipe books, tapping away on his laptop, Sara in her bouncy chair in front of him fast asleep.

"For Pride. I can't make my mind up. Which do you think would be better?"

"Can we go back to the beginning, because I feel like I've walked in halfway through the series."

"Charles came in the cafe today, he's organising Pride in the village and he asked me to get involved." Aaron hasn't seen Robert look so eager about anything for ages, not since he came out of prison and he smiles along with him. "He's asked all local businesses for sponsorship or to be involved. I'm doing refreshments and stuff."

"When is it?"

"Next month. He said he'd called at the yard but couldn't make you hear." He goes back to scrolling on his laptop. "What do you think of these?"

"Must've had the crusher going." He shakes his head and picks his way through the mess surrounding Robert before he can sit down, lifting Ana onto his lap. "I can't hear a thing with that going you know that. What am I looking at?"

"Cookies. Maybe Mum could ice them, you know, all the different flags?"

"Yeah, why not. You know I'm the wrong person to ask, all I care about is if they taste nice."

"Idiot." He leans over to kiss him, closing his laptop. "I've put tea in early because there's a meeting at the village hall at six."

"About?"

"Pride, Aaron! I'm on the committee so I have to be on time. So you'll have to do bath time and that. I'll be home before they go to bed."

"There's a committee?"

"Yes. It all has to be arranged. You can help if you want. Mum's already volunteered, and there's Matty, Ethan, Charles, Nicola and Vic, oh and your Gran." He couldn't help smiling because he'd not seen Robert this animated in ages even if he truly couldn't remember any conversation they'd had about any of this.

"I'm not one for meetings am I, but I can do heavy lifting and that." He hesitates, not wanting to dampen Robert's mood one bit.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just...you've never really seemed interested in going to pride or 'owt." Robert looks down and he instantly feels bad. "Oi, it's not a criticism, I just wondered...you seem to be going at this hell for leather that's all. Did you want to go before or...?"

"Not really...I, nearly went once, in London. Chickened out at the last minute, worried someone from work might see me and just know which was daft I know, and when you and me got together, something always seemed to get in the way. I just thought...I know who I am now, and I'm happy. That's something to celebrate, isn't it?"

"Yeah, course. Be my first time too." He winks making Robert laugh. "Right, so, what else have you got planned?"

--------

"Robert!" It's only been a week and Aaron is wishing the days away so he can have his husband, and his house back. He's come home to a living room full of boxes.

"Oh, you're home. You're early."

"I thought I'd sack it off for the day and we could go to the pub for tea with the kids. I didn't expect to come home to...well this."

"Daddy look!" All of a sudden Seb emerges from behind the pile of boxes with what looks like a door curtain trailing behind him.

"Very nice mate. Robert what is all this."

"Ah...well..." Robert scratches his head as he untangles Seb from the decoration he's wrapped himelf in. "The thing is, I'm kinda in charge now."

"How come?"

"It was meant to be Andrea, although if you ask me she only agreed because she thinks it'll keep her in with Charles." Aaron nods, even though he really has no idea what he's talking about, but then Robert's always been more into village gossip than him. "Anyway she's cried off, I don't know, some kind of drama with Jamie again, and well Charles needed the help."

"And you agreed."

"He was stuck!"

Robert and Charles have struck up a kind of friendship since Robert came home, and Aaron knows that he's confided in him, stuff he doesn't want to tell Aaron, or things he needs to sort out before he does.

"Right, so basically the house is going to be a store room for the next fortnight?"

"No, I'm moving it all over to the village hall, but it needed checking, and Mum was going to help but then Ana wanted to go to the swings so she took her, and Sara."

"I'm helping!" Seb pipes up, with his head inside another box as Robert shook his head.

"Well how about you help me and Daddy move these boxes and then we can go and get some tea?"

"Chips?"

"If you get your head out of that box and stop spreading stuff everywhere then maybe."

--------

The next few weeks are a flurry of plans, of Robert having daily brainwaves or panics about one thing or another, and his phone is constantly lighting up with WhatsApp messages, but finally it's the evening before and he thinks Robert has calmed down. He's at one final committee meeting leaving Aaron in charge of the kids tea.

"You alright mate?" Seb's pushing his pasta around the plate rather than eating.

"Where's Daddy?"

"He's at his meeting, you know sorting things for tomorrow. He won't be long."

"What's Pride?" He says after pushing a few more bits of pasta around. He supposes he shouldn't be surprised Seb's asking, it's all they've spoken about for the last month or so after all.

"Well in some places it's like a big parade and it's full of colour and everyone's happy. Emmerdale's a bit small for a parade though ain't it, so it's just going to be like a big party with music and face paints and food and all sorts of things."

"Oh."

"What's up mate?"

"Oscar, at school, he said havin' two Daddies is weird." Aaron's never head of this Oscar, and he has to remind himself it wasn't the kids fault that he obviously hadn't been taught properly.

"Do you think it's weird?"

"No. You and Daddy both play with my trucks and take me on the swings."

"Exactly, some boys and girls have a Mummy and Daddy, like Eve, some have two Mummies like Moses and Johnny, and some like you, Ana and Sara have two Daddies. But all of you have fun, and everyone loves you, so it's not weird. Oscar maybe just doesn't understand hey?"

"But I had Mummy too." Aaron let out a breath, it'd been a good while since he'd mentioned Rebecca, other than saying goodnight to her photo every night. He wished Robert was here, he was always better at dealing with it than him.

"Yeah, well, Moses has a Daddy too doesn't he? A family can be made up of whoever, and still be the same as everyone elses. Do you understand?"

"I think so. And pride is like a party?"

"Yeah, celebrating the fact that people like me and Daddy can be together and stuff."

"But...why?"

"Because years ago we wouldn't have been allowed to get married or be together and some people still think we shouldn't."

"That's silly."

"Yes it is. Really silly."

"Can we go see Daddy?" Aaron smiles, and nods, happy that Seb's satisfied with his answer.

It's a bit of a struggle, managing the three of them, but eventually he gets Seb to push Sara in her chair, while he carries Ana, and they're heading towards the village. Suddenly Seb stops, mouth open and Aaron stops fiddling with Ana's cardigan to see what's wrong.

"Wow." Main Street is literally awash with colour and Seb's eyes are as wide as Christmas. "Look Daddy!"

"I am mate. Cool huh?" He can see Robert in the distance, with Charles and he nudges Seb to carry on walking, smile growing wider as they gets closer to his husband, seeing how happy he is.

"Daddy! Everything's pretty!" Seb all but abandons the buggy to run the last few metres to Robert who immediately picks him up and sits him on his shoulders.

"What do you think young man?" Charles asks him and Seb giggles. He likes Charles, had crazed them to be allowed to go to the after school club he'd set up in the village.

"I like the colours! Daddy said that Pride is cos he and Daddy are allowed to get married. Is that right?"

"Something like that yes. Do you remember we talked about it last week at after school club?"

"When we coloured in?"

"That's right. All of your drawings are hanging up in the church so maybe you can show your Daddies tomorrow."

"OK!"

"Come on chatterbox, let Charles get home."

"He's fine. I'll leave you to it. It looks really good Robert, you've done a great job getting everyone organised, especially last minute."

They take a slow walk home once Robert's done one last check of everything. Aaron's just happy to wait, happy to watch him. It's been a strange couple of years since he came out of prison, ups and downs along the way and he knows Robert's struggled with village events sometimes, feeling as though people are watching him, judging him. Seeing him taking such a delight in organising everything hopefully means he finally feels properly back at home.

"You ready?" Finally finished he kisses Aaron, Seb resting against his shoulder, suddenly tired. "It does look ok, right?"

"Yeah. Proper proud of you I am."

--------

"She's sleeping again." Aaron clicks off the light and slips into bed beside him, not getting any response from his husband. "You ok?"

"Hmm? Yeah. It's just..."

"What?"

"Charles asked me if I'd say something tomorrow."

"Ok, and...you don't want to? I'm sure he'd understand."

"No I do but...I don't know what to say."

"Just say whatever comes to mind. You don't have to make a big speech, just welcome everyone. He wouldn't have asked you if he didn't think you could."

"I just...it has to be perfect."

"Robert, it already is. Look at what you've done, the village looks amazin', and tomorrow is going to be brilliant and that's down to you."

"People helped."

"Yeah, but they wouldn't without you geeing them up. It's all set up now...you get to enjoy yourself."

"Mmm, love you, you know. I'm glad I didn't go that time in London, I'm glad my first pride is with you."

"Soppy git."

--------

"Right, I'm ready." He's barely set a foot on the bottom stair when Robert stops him.

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"You are not wearing all black. I will suffer it the rest of the year, but not today."

"Why the hell not? Last I checked it was a free country and I can wear whatever I want."

"No Daddy. You has to wear colour! It's the rule." Aaron bends down to Seb who has his arms crossed, mimicking Robert.

"Oh is it? Well I heard that it's the rule to tickle little boys until they shouted me to stop!"

"No! Daddy, stop it! Daddy help me!"

"Seb's right." Aaron stops tickling his son to frown at his annoying husband. Robert's wearing a t-shirt with PRIDE emblazoned across the front in the colours of the bisexual flag and before he can ask what he considers colourful enough he's handing him a bag. "I got you this."

He glares at him a moment longer, pulling what looks like a t-shirt from the bag.

"I knew you wouldn't actually wear proper colour so I got it made up in black." The shirt has 'love wins' across the front made to look like rainbow paint splatters. "Will it do?"

"Fine." He sighs, but he's smiling.

"I, er, I also got these, for the kids." He hands him three more shirts each saying the same thing. "You like 'em?"

"Perfect. Right then, I'll get changed, you can sort them, and then finally we can go!"

Fifteen minutes they're off, Seb running ahead, while Aaron has Aaron on his shoulders, little hands clutching at his hair. Robert's behind them, stopping to adjust Sara's sunhat.

"Seb hang on mate." He stopped at the top of the drive until Robert catches him up.

"Oh my God."

Main Street was full of people, and Aaron couldn't wipe the smile from his face.

"Look what you did."

"Yeah." He sounds stunned.

In the crush, the lose each other after a little while, and it's not until he hears Charles announcing Robert's name that he knows where he is. Making his way to the stage that's been set up next to the church he stands to one side with Sara's pushchair, Ana still on his shoulders. He can see Seb at the side of the stage with Vic so he's happy to stay where he is.

"Um...I don't quite know what to say. When Charles talked about this, I don't think any of us expected quite so many people. Er, it took me a long time to accept who I was, that, um, that I'm bisexual, that it's ok...Fifteen years actually, and now I'm married to the most wonderful man in the world and we've got three kids, and I'm happy. It's been a hell of a journey but I'm truly happy. Anyway I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's ok to not know, to take your time, to go at your own speed...so, have a wonderful day everyone!"

Aaron can barely hear himself think at the cheer, the whistle as Robert steps off the stage, picking Seb up and kissing him as he goes.

It takes a while but eventually they find each other and he sees that Seb had convinced his Daddy to let him get his face painted, cheeks perfectly matching his t-shirt that proclaims 'my daddies love me' with both a pride flag and bisexual flag.

"Was it ok?" Robert asks as Aaron moves Ana so she's standing with Seb, holding onto his hand.

"Did you hear them? It was perfect." He kisses him before hugging him tight. "Love you so much."

"Love you too."

"Daddy I'm hungry! Can we get a cookie from Ganma now?"

He laughs into Robert's neck as the moment's broken. It didn't matter, the whole day has been perfect from start to finish.

#ok so i'm really nervous about this #robron fic #but i couldn't have aaron at pride with ben #it had to be robert #also all black...no #also no andrea #anyway enjoy #and if it's terrible i apologise #ana'verse #i also love the idea of robert and charles being friends #robert needs that person he can go to with his troubles when he doesn't want to burden aaron

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devil-in-those-eyes · 4 years ago

Text

Joke Part 2- Mat Barzal

Okay, I really didn’t think there would many people who wanted a part two, but if it’s wanted, there might be a part three. I hope you guys enjoy.

Warnings: None? Maybe swearing? I wrote the first half months ago, so my memory if foggy.

“You’re leaving… already?” Jesse and Tito exclaimed together, not missing a beat as you slid you chair back from the brunch table and finishing the last bit of your coffee.

“Not all of us can laze around on Sunday’s.” You answered with a smile, pulling your coat on and grabbing your purse.

Everyone let out grunts and groans that sounded close to displease, but you shook your head and rolled your eyes. You waved goodbye to your friends and smiled at Jesse as he tilted his head back to grin at you as you passed but what, or who, caught your eye was sitting to his left.

Mat sat with his back leaned into the chair, looking the most relaxed out of everyone with one hand in his lap and the other around the black mug of coffee. Dressed in a dark grey sleeve and black jeans, he looked delicious with his hair getting more unruly as the days went on, leaving his scruff and giving you butterflies the whole time.

Mat looked up from his mug and at you, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You mumbled a goodbye, fighting to your cheeks from turning red and keeping a neutral smile on your face. You made your way out of the restaurant, ready to start running errands before you started your work week. New York was somewhat quiet, a small amount of people buzzing around and leisurely enjoying their Sunday.

“Y/N, wait up,” You heard behind you after you got a few steps away from the restaurant.

You turned in your boots to see Mat had just walked out the doors and walking towards you. Your heart clenched and pushed your hands into the pocket of your jacket, “what’s up?”

“I, uh, what are you doing Tuesday night?”

Your eyebrows pulled together, confused by his question as your head suddenly started whirling because was he asking you out? And if he was asking you out, what changed his mind?

“You should come to the game,” he cleared his throat, his hands fisting inside the front pocket of his black jeans. “I know Jesse has an extra ticket, figured it might as well go to you.”

Might as well. Almost like an afterthought, to keep the ticket from going to waste. Normally, you wouldn’t have picked up on his words like that but because you already felt inadequate compared to him and his women he chose to interact with, it was all you could focus on.

“Oh,” you breathed, struggling hard to shake off the disappointment you felt because for a split second you thought he wanted to hangout. “Um.”

“I just thought his ticket would go to waste,” Mat shrugged, playing it off sweet and innocent, as if he didn’t realize he was digging himself a deeper hole. “Jesse always talks about how much you like hockey.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and took a step back, watching his eyes go a little confused as he watched your feet step back. “Maybe,” you answered, giving a tight smile. “Have a good day, Barz.”

Have a good day, Barz?

How did Mat go from Maty, your knight and shinning armor one night, to being Barzy in a matter of less than twelve hours? Mat wasn’t entirely sure where he went wrong and for the next few days he kept going over Sunday morning, while trying to subtly stalk your Instagram. That Sunday morning was beautiful, he woke up with dusty cobwebs on his brain but the second he watched you walk into the restaurant in jeans and a comfy, oversized sweater, he was wide awake. You were quiet in your seat, chugging down coffee like a champ and keeping up with the twenty different conversations while catching Mat’s eyes every few minutes.

Mat thought maybe things changed between the two of you Saturday night, he could still feel your body pressed against his, your warm hands against his chest. The second your hand cupped his jaw, your eyes pleading to walk away, he felt his anger melt away. You were warm against his hot blooded body, calming him down before he realized just how angry that dude made him.

He really wanted you at the game Tuesday night, he wanted to see your face light up the second him and the boys hit the ice. How much Mat knew about you was because of Jesse, because his two best friends were in love with you and just rattled off facts. Mat knew about your job, who your top three hockey teams were (while taking deep pride that the Isles were your number one). He knew what music you liked and what you liked to do for fun. Mat paid more attention to you than you realized, but he had gone wrong somewhere, and he thought asking you to the game was his way of righting it. Except he faltered when you gave him a confused look and he fumbled over his words, feeling like a thirteen year old boy asking out his cooler and totally out of his league crush.

“Have you ever considered just… I don’t know, maybe asking Y/N out?” Tito asked, his voice dripping in sarcasm as he and Mat sat in the locker room after the game.

“You dick, I tried.” Mat answered, groaning. “It’s like she doesn’t even wanna give me the time of day.”

“Huh, wonder why.” Tito mumbled, but Mat definitely heard him and clenched his jaw. “Listen,” Tito lifted his head and cleared his throat, “Jess and I wanna get drinks, why don’t you just… steal her away?”

Mat stared at Tito, wondering if that would really work. He had no doubt that Jesse would be more than happy for Mat to take Y/N off his hands, considering Jesse mentioned them getting together every chance he got, but would Y/N really go off with him? She seemed distracted and distant two days ago. Mat wanted to reach out, something was drawing him to her and he just wanted to keep talking to her, but he didn’t have her number and didn’t want to deal with the way Jesse would look like a Cheshire cat when Mat asked for it. So, he settled for hoping that you’d show up to the game.

And to his shock, you did. It wasn’t like you haven’t been to games, because you’ve been to plenty to support Tito and the boys, but now Mat was one of the boys you were supporting and it made his heart flutter knowing that.

Tito and Mat walked out of the locker room, just after Matt and Sydney bid their goodbyes to Jesse and you. You looked cute, already bundled up for the early November snow in your tan pea coat already done up, your hands holding the New York Islanders knit pom hat that Jesse got for you not that long ago. Your smile was bright, but as you turned away from Matt and Sydney and locked eyes with Mat, it faltered and he noticed your hands start twisting the hat in a nervous habit.

“Great game, boys,” You breathed, smiling at them and welcoming Tito’s warm hug, patting his back and letting your hand fall on his tight stomach as he stood with his arm around your shoulders.

“You see that goal Barzy scored for you?” Tito asked, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking at you. Your heart stopped and your cheeks went pale instead of pink as he said, “Pretty hot, eh?”

Mat ran his fingers through his hair and you could have sworn his cheeks had gone pink, “Shut up, Tito.”

As Mat turned his eyes onto you, you quickly looked away just in time to see Jesse nod at Tito, “You ready to head to the bar?”

“Yes!” Tito exclaimed but you pushed against Tito’s side and his arm dropped from your shoulders.

“I made your asses food,” you looked away from Tito and at Jesse. “You told me they wanted to come over, asshole.”

Jesse rubbed the back of his neck but smirked before motioning to Mat, “Well, Barz doesn’t wanna come out, you two head back and enjoy the food.”

Your eyes shot to Mat and noticed how he looked like he wanted the world to swallow him up, he was avoiding your eyes and glaring at his two friends. Disappointment settled inside your chest because it was clear to you that he didn’t want to go anywhere with you, so as soon as the boys were out of ear shot, you’d let him off the hook.

You rolled your eyes and grumbled about how much you hated Jesse, turning on your heel and leaving the three boys. You had taken this way many times, so you knew the way to the car park where Jesse and the boys had parked and even though you were still annoyed at Jesse, you couldn’t help but join the conversation about the game.

Tito and Mat seemed to be on a high about the game and you were proud of them, as the three boys relived their goals and assists you couldn’t stop the smile on your face but that smile soon left when you reached the doors and stood outside by Jesse and Mat’s cars.

You sighed after you said your goodbyes to Jesse and Tito and grabbed out your phone, about to order and Uber, and when Tito and Jesse got into Jesse’s car you went to go speak to tell Mat he didn’t have to do anything with you but he beat you to it.

“So, what’d you make us for dinner?” Mat asked, still resting against the side of his car, his hands in the front pockets of his jacket.

“Uh, what?” You asked, lifting your head from your phone and looking at him. He was smirking, his hazel eyes looking dark under the night sky and it made your heart flutter because he still hadn’t gotten rid of the scruff and it grew. “Oh, no, Mat. You don’t have to come over.”

“I don’t?” He asked, tilting his head but still smirking.

“No, I mean, why would you?” You asked, huffing out a smile. “I’m gonna get an Uber, you can catch up to the boys and ride out on your high.”

Mat watched you for a hot second, licking hit bottom lip. “Nah, you’re not taking an Uber and I’m not going out tonight, I’m gonna hangout with you.”

“Mat,” you groaned as he unlocked his car and pulled the passenger side door open and he motioned for you to get in. You grimaced, “Mat, you don’t want to hangout with me. I know you don’t.”

Mat didn’t bother arguing with you. He just lowered his eyes, still smirking and pushed off of his car while unlocking it, “Get in the car, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupted deep inside you at the low grumble falling past his lips. You made your way to the passenger side of the car and got in his car, rubbing your hands together as he started his car and let it run for a few minutes.

The ride to your apartment was quiet other than music softly playing between the both of you, it was like the butterflies had paralyzed you and you forgot what it was like to act around a human being. You could barely remember the last time you felt this nervous around a guy and what was more annoying was how relaxed Mat looked as he sat in the drivers seat.

He had one hand on the steering wheel while propping his elbow up on the window sill, the other lightly resting on the gear shift. Every once in a while he rolled his head from side to side, keeping his eyes on the road, but a few times he had taken small glances at you.

How come Mat got to look so perfect while you felt like you were twisted in knots. It was like he was totally fine with spending his evening with you, like he wasn’t actually wishing he didn’t get stuck with you.

Which again, was a joke because there’s no way Mat was fine with Jesse and Tito finally shoving you onto him.

You fiddled with your keys once you reached your door and as you popped it open, you decided to give Mat one last chance to walk away. You turned in the middle of your doorway and sighed.

“Whaaat?” Mat asked, dragging the word out and almost making you smile with that boyish gleam in his eyes.

“Thank you for giving me a ride home, but seriously, you don’t have to hangout with me,” You answered, taking off the hat and pushing your hair off of your neck. “I know you’d rather be with your friends.”

“Y/N,” he said your name slowly and lifted his hand to the wall beside your door. As he leaned in closer, you could smell the cologne that had been teasing you the whole way home. “I’m getting the feeling that it’s you who doesn’t want to hangout with me.”

“What?” You asked, shaking your head. “It’s just,”

“Just, what?” He asked, cutting you off. He saw something in your face that he didn’t like because his eyes softened and he lost the joking smile on his mouth, “I actually want to be here with you, Y/N, but if you don’t want me to stay, then I won’t.”

You took a second to let his words sink in as you nibbled on your lower lip. Realizing that Mat might actually rather spend the high of his win with you, you found yourself murmuring, “So, you didn’t ask me to the game as an after thought?”

In that moment, Mat realized where he had gone wrong Sunday morning. Understanding filled his eyes and he tilted his head to the side. He slowly stepped towards you, dropping his hand from the wall and resting his shoulder against the doorjamb.

“Definitely not,” He murmured, his voice matching yours.

Your cheeks heated up and you lowered your eyes, trying to hide the way your cheeks filled with pink but Mat had seen it and found himself smiling softly.

“Chicken pasta sound good?” You asked.

“I’m starving,” Mat grinned and you backed away, letting him into your apartment.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x you #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #nhl islanders #nhl imagine

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honey-dewey · 3 years ago

Text

Lightning in a Bottle

Pairing: Trans Fem! Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/GN! Reader

Word Count: 2,484

Warnings: swearing, homophobia/transphobia, needles, hurt/comfort.

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

It is week three of pride month! This is the third set of prompts that came from @flightlessangelwings and @autumnleaves1991-blog Pride writing prompts! I’ve never written Trans Jack before, and while I would typically headcanon him as trans masc, I thought this would be fun instead.

Prompts: Glitter and/or “I’ll always be by your side”

You sighed, settled at Jack’s vanity as you organized her makeup. She was a menace when it came to organization, and more often than not, you were the one lining her lipsticks up in front of the mirror and putting the eyeliner pens back in their cup. After two years, you’d think she’d get the hang of this, but you’d be wrong. Even when she was away, like she was now, she couldn’t bother to put anything where it went before she left. You put her brushes back in their proper place in a drawer, absently checking your phone for the time or a text. Jack was due home any minute now, and even though she hadn’t been away for long, her absence had affected you.

The front door creaked open, and you perked up, turning in the vanity chair so you could pay attention to the sounds coming from downstairs.

“Hey babe!” Jack’s voice filtered up the stairs, and you smiled, hearing her take her boots off downstairs. “I’m home!”

Standing, you abandoned the mini project you’d been working on in favor of walking to the top of the stairs to watch Jack shimmy out of her coat and hang her hat up on top of the coat rack. She was a picture of beauty, her back to you as she loosened the top buttons of her shirt and rolled her sleeves up. Turning, she caught sight of you, her face pulling into a wide smile. “There’s my baby!” She said, running up the stairs until she was on the landing. “Come kiss me. I missed you.”

You ran down the steps, crashing into Jack and wrapping her in a hug. She’d been gone for two days, out on a mission for work. It was only two days, but you’d been grouchier than usual for those two days, and all you wanted was Jack cuddles. “I missed you too baby.”

Jack scooped you up, carrying you to the bedroom and plopping you down on the bed. As you laughed, Jack pulled her skirt and petticoat off, leaving her in shorts and her button up. You smiled, gesturing her close. Jack didn’t argue, crawling across the bed so she could rest her head on your chest. It took a minute to find the best spot that wouldn’t send any of your limbs to sleep, but when you did find it, you knew Jack wouldn’t be getting up for anything.

“Did you have fun?” You asked, gently tugging Jack’s hair ties out and undoing her two braids. “Where’d they send you? Wasn’t it Montana again?”

“It was,” Jack said, eyes closed as you combed through her curls with your fingers. “Still as beautiful as ever. I’m gonna take you for our honeymoon.”

You chuckled, blinking slowly. “If we ever get married,” you finished.

“We will,” Jack promised, reaching up and trapping one of your hands in hers. “We absolutely will.”

Almost an hour passed while you and Jack cuddled, both of you nearly falling asleep until you remembered something. “Ah fuck,” you grumbled, untangling your limbs from Jack’s. “I have to run to the grocery store. I forgot to do it yesterday. I was so hectic with this work thing, and then you called to tell me you were coming home, and it completely slipped my mind.” As you rambled, you pulled on a neater shirt, looking around for your shoes.

“Can I come?” Jack asked, rolling over and sitting up.

“When am I ever going to say no to that?” You pointed out, picking up Jack’s skirt and tossing it at her. “But you should probably cover your ass.”

Jack laughed, leaving her skirt on the bed in favor of scooping up a pair of shorts. She loosely tucked her shirt into her pants, piling her hair up into a claw clip and watching as you finally found your shoes. “Big trip or small trip?” She asked, tossing you a pair of socks.

“Medium trip,” you said. “I don’t need a ton, mostly just stuff for dinner and the odd thing or two. So we can go to Sam’s.”

Sam’s market was a tiny mom and pop grocery store that hadn’t changed in decades, but you adored it. It was a ten minute drive, and you and Jack were there in no time.

“Fucking love this place,” Jack said happily, reaching out to pet Claire, one of the resident cows. “Reminds me of my dad’s ranch.”

You nodded, grabbing a basket and entering the store. Jack followed, immediately detouring to the pharmacy. You stayed nearby, half listening as Jack picked up her estrogen and made her way back to you.

“I hate those things,” Jack said, putting her prescription bag in your basket beside a bag of dried apple slices. “They’re super gross.”

You smiled. “You don’t have to eat them,” you said, linking your arm with Jack’s. “But I like them.”

The trip around the store was quick, and in no time, you were up at the counter. Sam, the owner, grinned when you two came up. “Haven’t seen you two in a while,” he said. “How’s work?”

“Good,” Jack said. “Just got back from a business trip, actually. It’s why I’m late on my prescription.”

“Ah,” Sam said, pulling the bag out of the basket. “Jen was wondering why you hadn’t picked it up yet. It’s all still working out for you?”

Jack nodded, opening her mouth to say something before a loud snort came from behind her. She turned, and so did you. Behind you was a young man with his arms crossed, looking between the two of you with a grin. “Did I interrupt?” He said in a thick southern drawl. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Jack said, drawing herself up to her full height and raising an eyebrow. “Do you have something to say?”

The man shook his head. “Not to you, you freak.”

Jack blinked, stepping back a tiny bit. She’d been passing consistently ever since her hair got long and she started to hit what she called second puberty, and it was rare anyone was able to tell right off the bat that she wasn’t a biological woman. You stepped in front of her, shielding her from the man. “You leave my girlfriend alone.”

“That ain’t a girl,” the man jeered. “That’s a man in a skirt.”

Your jaw clenched, and you were two seconds from punching the man square in the jaw when Sam stepped in.

“Here are your purchases,” he said, handing you a bag. “And you,” he turned to the man. “Need to leave if you’re going to be harassing my loyal customers like that.”

Jack gripped your hand as you quietly pulled her towards the truck. She was dead silent as you put your bag in the backseat and slumped over the steering wheel. “You okay?” You asked softly, not wanting to startle Jack.

She shook her head, wiping away tears with the back of her hand. “I just wanna go home,” she said thickly, voice wavering.

It took all of your willpower not to pull over when Jack’s crying didn’t stop, and when you were finally home, you immediately closed the distance between you and Jack, holding her tight against you. She collapsed into your arms, burying her face in your shoulder and sobbing. You rubbed her back, silently curing the man in the store.

“Jack?” You said, still holding Jack close. “You know I love you, right? No matter what.”

“But-“

“No.” You pulled away, putting your hands on Jack’s shoulders and making her look at you. “No! I love you, no ifs, ands, or buts. I will always be by your side Jack. I don’t care who you are or what you look like. I love you for you.”

Jack bowed her head, face hidden by her hair. “You’re sure?” She asked, voice so small you almost didn’t hear her.

“I’m sure,” you said. “C’mon, let’s go inside. It’s more comfortable than the bench seat of your old ass truck.”

Jack stood, following you into the house. She trudged up the stairs, still holding your hand as she went. When you dropped the grocery bag by the bedroom door and tugged Jack inside, she didn’t protest, only looked at you, slightly confused.

“I was going to wait until your birthday, because I know Statesman insists on that huge birthday gala for you,” you said, sitting Jack in her vanity. “But I think you should have this now.”

Jack watched you enter your closet, growing more confused by the second. “What is it?”

“Close your eyes,” you said, grabbing a hangar. “It’s a surprise!”

When you peeked out of the closet, Jack had her hands over her eyes, waiting patiently. You hung the hangar on the back of the closet door, smoothing out the garment and moving to stand behind Jack. You took her wrists gently in your hands, smiling. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Jack said, leaning back against your chest.

You pulled Jack’s hands off her eyes. She gasped almost immediately, seeing the intricate and gorgeous dress hanging in front of her.

“Happy early birthday,” you said. “I had Ginger help me with things like measurements, but it’s 100% custom made. I figured since you didn’t have a dress for your birthday party, I could get you one. What do you think?”

Jack was speechless, turning around to hug you. “I love it,” she said, voice tight with emotion. “It’s perfect.”

You smiled, kissing Jack’s cheek. “Every woman should have a fancy evening dress that makes her feel like royalty. Wanna try it on?”

Jack was incredibly eager to put the dress on. You ushered her into the bathroom, carrying the dress and handing it to her as she ducked behind a privacy divider.

“Oh my god!” You heard her say after you heard the zipper pulling shut. “It fits perfectly!”

“Do you want shoes?” You asked, still not peeking around the divider.

Jack was quiet for a minute. “Yeah. Those white ones.”

You knew exactly what she was talking about and grabbed the aforementioned white shoes. Handing them to Jack, you waited while she finished getting dressed, barely managing to contain your patience. When you finally heard her heels on the tile, you looked up, fully breathless as Jack stepped out from behind the divider.

She was gorgeous. The dress hugged her in all the right places, conforming to the curve of her waist and the slope of her hips as if it were a second skin. The heart shaped neckline and thin straps showed off what you and Ginger had both agreed was a very professional amount of skin, but still enough to make Jack feel sexy. The top of the dress was beaded with shimmering beads, each one catching the light and making Jack seem positively radiant. Even with minimal makeup and her hair haphazardly tossed up, she was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

“Oh Jack,” you said, standing in front of her. “I don’t- I can’t. You look. I don’t even have the words to say how beautiful you are.”

Jack smiled, swishing the dress. “I love it,” she said softly. “Thank you. I feel like a princess.”

“You look like a queen,” you breathed, putting your hands on Jack’s sides. “God above you look stunning.”

You two stood there for a while, just holding each other, until Jack pulled away to take the dress off. You watched her go, silently gathering her pyjamas, knowing she’d want them. When you were done, you headed out of the bedroom, intent on putting away the groceries that had been left out in your eagerness to show Jack her dress.

Jack came trailing down the stairs after ten minutes, wearing her Hello Kitty pyjama pants and an old Statesman distillery shirt that was a size too big. You kissed her and handed her a bag of apples as she entered the kitchen. “Put these away please?”

“Sure thing,” Jack said, moving around you to put the apples in the fruit bowl. “Can you grab my medicine?”

You reached around Jack and grabbed her estrogen bottle and a syringe. She hopped up on the counter, tugging up one of her pant legs to give you easier access to her thigh. After having been shot multiple times, often fatally, needles were something Jack didn’t even blink at. Giving Jack her estrogen had been something you’d had to work up to in the first year, but now you could do it with ease.

“Ready?” You asked, holding up the syringe. “Three, two,” you pushed the syringe into Jack’s leg. “One!”

Jack made a face at you as you disposed of the syringe and pressed a Disney princess bandaid to the tiny puncture wound. “Your bedside manor is horrible. Could’ve at least waited until you said one to stick me.”

You laughed. “You say that every time!” You said, taking Jack’s hands and helping her off the counter. “Bake Off or Friends?”

“Can we watch Friends?” Jack asked eagerly, following you to the couch and grabbing the TV remote. “I’m in the mood to laugh.”

“We can watch Friends,” you said, snuggling up next to Jack. “I’ll never say no to Friends.”

While Jack cued up the show, you fell against her shoulder, already feeling sleepy. In a few hours, you’d have to get up and make dinner, and Jack probably had a report to write on her mission, but for now, it was completely calm in the house.

At some point during the second episode you watched, you must’ve fallen asleep, because one minute, you were sleepily watching Friends, and the next, you were opening your eyes to Jack holding two bowls of her famous cowboy mac-and-cheese. You sat upright, accepting the bowl with a small pout. “I was gonna make dinner.”

“But you didn’t,” Jack pointed out, sitting beside you and taking a bite. “I swear, this gets better and better the more I make it.”

“Don’t tell Tequila,” you said. “He would kill a man for this bowl of food.”

Jack laughed. “He would,” she agreed. “Did you have a good day today?”

“My girlfriend came home,” you said sweetly. “Of course I had a good day. What about you?”

“Hm,” Jack hummed, pretending to think. “Well, I got to see my beautiful partner again, so that was good. But then a raging asshole yelled at me, and that was bad. But the dress made up for it, so all in all, a good day.”

You smiled, leaning against Jack and gesturing to the TV. “I’m glad you had a good day. More Friends to finish it off?”

“You know me so well,” Jack said happily, taking the remote again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said, turning your attention mostly to the TV. “No matter what.”

#Kingsman #kingsman the golden circle #agent whiskey #jack 'whiskey' daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing #writer wednesday #jey's pride celebration 2k21

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whenihaveyouromione · 2 years ago

Text

When I Have You - Chapter 76

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

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Chapter 76

Christmas was always a happy time of year for Ron, and despite everything they’d been through in recent months, the Christmas of 2004 was no exception. Work slowed down immensely, and Ron was given three days over the holiday period to just relax. Hermione’s office had shut down completely for a week, all cases and Wizengamot hearings suspended, starting Christmas Eve.

This Christmas felt just that little bit more special, though, for it was the first one they’d be having in their own home. Until now, they’d done their best to divide their time equally between their families — sometimes spending the holiday at the Burrow with the ever-growing Weasley clan, and other years enjoying a much more quiet affair with the Grangers.

But this year, all they wanted was to be home. They weren’t quite ready — nor did they think the house was large enough — to have Ron’s family over, so they’d invited Hermione’s parents. In his days off, Ron had spent the last few with his mother, trying to get all of her recipes in order so that they could attempt to cook themselves. It had been a surprisingly pleasant time, though the lingering knowledge about their baby hung between them. He still didn’t have it in him to tell her.

He had no assumption that the food would turn out anything like what Molly Weasley managed to put on the table, but she’d been thrilled when he’d asked her, gladly sharing all of her secrets she’d held close for years.

Apparently, no one else had asked her before. Ron had felt a small amount of pride when she’d told him. He didn’t know why.

On Christmas morning, however, he somewhat regretted his decisions. It was an overcast day, but not in the way that he thought snow would fall. It was just downright miserable and wet — a disappointment.

It was the first thing Ron noticed when he’d managed to pull the covers off himself and sit up on the edge of the bed. The curtains had been open by Hermione — her way of telling him he needed to get up.

“Merry Christmas,” she said, crawling across to his side and wrapping her arms around him from behind.

Ron gave a grunt of appreciation at her closeness and stifled a yawn. “Merry Christmas,” he said. “What time is it?”

Hermione reached to his nightstand and picked up his watch, handing it to him.

“Way too early for Christmas,” he said, tossing his watch onto the bed and turning around to face Hermione.

“Not if you want to make today great,” Hermione said, sounding like she’d been up for hours. Typical of her, really. “I know on our Christmases, Mum and Dad always got up early to start all the food preparation.”

“Ah,” Ron said, reaching to his nightstand and picking up his wand, “but did they have one of these?”

“No, but they had an oven and a microwave, which is exactly what we have.” Hermione sounded amused more than anything.

“And a wand,” Ron insisted. “It cuts away half the time, because I can set things to prepare themselves while I focus on the other things.”

“Alright, that’s fair,” Hermione conceded. She leaned forward and kissed him lightly.

“Does that give us time to stay here a little bit longer then?” Ron asked, drawing her closer to him. “You know, it’s Christmas and all.”

He almost expected Hermione to turn him down, insisting that there were things that needed to be done, and not to mention that this side of their relationship hadn’t been entirely ‘normal’ for a few months now. But instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, drew him into a deep kiss, and then pulled him back down onto the bed.

Ron smiled, his lips against her mouth. He really loved Christmas, but even more so now that he got to spend every one with her.

…

An hour later, they were both finally out of bed. Hermione had showered and dressed for the day, but Ron was still in his pyjamas with a mug of coffee in his hand. The morning was cold, even with the Muggle heating system going at full intensity, and he would have much rathered been in bed still.

It was Christmas.

In the corner of the living room, near where he sat, stood their little Christmas tree. They’d bought it their first Christmas of living together in their flat, so it was small and compact. They had the space to get a much bigger one now, but they both enjoyed the memories this one held.

It was immaculately decorated — Hermione’s doing — with a handful of gifts sitting under it.

When Hermione joined him, curling up beside him, he said, “Do you want your present now?”

“We should wait for Mum and Dad to get here. So it really feels like Christmas.”

“But you’ll like what I got you this year,” Ron said. “I like what I got you.”

Hermione smiled. “I’m sure it’s lovely. But we should wait.”

Ron gave a soft chuckle. “Always the rule follower,” he said, and he took another sip from his coffee.

Hermione laughed. “How many years have you known me? How many times have I not followed the rules? I just like keeping tradition, that’s all.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“We should really get started on the food,” Hermione then said. “I’m going to get Mum and Dad at ten-thirty, and the food should be ready by twelve.”

“I’ll get them,” Ron said. “Your parents, I mean. If you want.”

Hermione looked at him questioningly.

“What?” Ron said. “I like your parents. I’ll get them, bring them back here. They’ve travelled with me via Floo before, but never you. So it makes sense. You know it makes them nervous.”

“But they’re my parents,” Hermione said, looking amused.

Ron shrugged.

“But if you want,” she conceded after a moment.

“I do,” Ron said cheerfully.

“I’ll call them to let them know you’re coming instead.” Hermione left the living room and Ron could hear her dialling the phone with the only number he ever bothered to learn.

While she was gone, Ron sipped at his coffee until it was almost empty. When she returned, she rejoined him on the sofa and smiled, amused. “They’re looking forward to you coming to get them,” she said. “Mum even sounded a bit relieved.”

“See,” Ron said with a smirk. “It’s because they know I can get them here safely. I have once before, so they know I can do it again. So, you want to get started on this lunch we’re doing?”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “Especially because it’s our first time — we might need the extra time to go to the supermarket again and get anything we get wrong.”

“Mum’s recipes are quite detailed.” Ron drained his coffee and stood up, pulling Hermione by the hand to join him. “And she’s shown me everything.” He kissed her, just because he could. And it was Christmas, and Christmas was supposed to be filled with love and laughter and he loved Hermione more than anything.

“You’re in a perky mood,” Hermione observed as they headed for the kitchen. “All loving and… smug… and… are you okay?”

“I’m happy and you’re asking if I’m okay?” Ron said. “What’s not to be happy about? I’m not working, you’re not working, we get to spend a nice day in peace and quiet — no Victoire or Dominique causing havoc, no Percy and Audrey acting all smug as their child doesn’t cause destruction, ignoring the fact that she’s younger by a few years. None of George’s lame jokes, or Ginny moaning about not being able to play Quidditch…”

“You love all that,” Hermione said knowingly. “I know you do.”

“Yeah, I do. It’s great, but… sometimes it’s just nice when we have a break, you know? Maybe I’m getting old.”

“Maybe you are,” Hermione teased. “Am I now married to an old man? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Hm, maybe you’ll need to upgrade to a newer husband one day.”

Hermione opened the refrigerator and began summoning ingredients they’d bought a few days ago with her wand. With her head buried inside, Ron heard her say, “I’m quite happy with the one I’ve got, thanks.”

Ron smirked. “Maybe one day you’ll think differently.”

“I highly doubt it.” Hermione reappeared from within the fridge, waving her wand so the ingredients all made it safely onto the kitchen bench. Then she closed the door of the refrigerator and looked at Ron. “I’m not sure I could find anyone better.”

Ron was silent for a moment, watching her and beaming. Then he said, laughing, “Very true.” He shrugged. “I suppose you’re stuck with me forever.”

“Gladly.”

They smiled at each other again, and then Hermione nodded towards the food items sitting on the kitchen bench, telling him they should start.

Ron took out his wand and some utensils, charming them one at a time to get started on the preparation. He was used to cooking dinners at night for him and Hermione, occasionally for Harry and Ginny as well, but this felt bigger. Hermione had somehow convinced him that it was bigger. She wanted to impress her parents, or something, which he thought was ridiculous. They weren’t the type of people to care about the food. He was pretty sure they just enjoyed spending time with their only daughter (and subsequently her husband). He doubted they cared how or where.

As he prepped the vegetables, he couldn’t help but smile to himself at their banter. It didn’t happen often; Hermione was usually too busy or too stressed about something to join in. Her mind was generally elsewhere — a case she was working on, or something someone had asked her to do — for her to take this much time in actually joking with Ron. But he enjoyed it. It made him feel good, and it meant she was relaxed enough to engage.

She really needed to relax more often, but he knew if he tried telling her that, she’d ignore him.

Within the hour, they had everything chopped and ready to go in the oven. It was fifteen minutes before ten-thirty.

“You reckon your parents will care if I’m a little early?” Ron asked, glancing down at his wrist watch. The Grangers were always on time to places, or early. Never late — just like Hermione.

“They’re probably ready,” Hermione conceded. “Ron… are you sure you want to go?”

“Yeah, of course!” Ron said. “I don’t mind.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you in a few moments, parents here safe and sound.”

She nodded, and he could sense her eyes on him, her brain ticking over as to why he had insisted on picking up her parents. The truth was, Ron didn’t want her to stress anymore than she needed to. She was in a good mood, she was relaxed, and it was what she needed right now.

It had been a shit end of the year for both of them and the last thing he wanted was her overdoing herself. He knew she was okay, he knew she was capable of doing everything that she had done at the start of the year. But it was Christmas, and he wanted her to enjoy it. He wanted it to be the best Christmas she’d ever had. In Ron’s eyes, that meant her doing the bare minimum amount of work.

He Floo’d to the Granger’s place in London, not at all surprised to see Robert and Jane waiting in their living room for him to come. They’d become used to watching Ron and Hermione step out of fireplaces, regardless of whether they particularly enjoyed it. In fact, Ron was fairly impressed with how they handled all things magic. Entirely different to how Harry had described his aunt and uncle’s thoughts on the subject, from what Ron could gather.

“Hi, Ron,” Jane said kindly. “Merry Christmas.” She bent and picked up a bag of gifts.

Robert gave Ron a nod of acknowledgement and then eyed the fireplace warily.

“Er, maybe you should go first?” Ron suggested. He remembered last time, when he’d brought them here after desperately appealing to them about Hermione’s denial, Robert had felt rather ill after the experience. “Hermione will be on the other side.”

“Yes, I’m sure she will,” Robert muttered, coming to stand by the fireplace. “So, you just throw that powder —”

“Floo powder,” Ron said, picking up the small bowl sitting on the mantelpiece and throwing a handful into the unlit fireplace. It roared to life with green flames.

“I’m going to be honest,” Robert said, eyeing the flames suspiciously, “I wanted to drive, but Jane and Hermione insisted…”

“You get used to it,” Ron assured him, smiling slightly. Robert had never struck Ron as someone to be afraid of something that felt so natural to Ron. Then again, he still had an irrational fear of spiders that he could not get past no matter how hard he tried.

“Easy for you to say,” Robert said. “You’ve probably been doing this since before you could walk.”

That was an accurate assessment, Ron had to admit. He indicated the flames.

“Even if I could tell anyone, no one would believe me,” Robert said. “Walking into fire…” Despite his grumblings, he stepped into the fireplace and was gone within seconds.

The flames remained green as Jane approached. “Don’t mind him, Ron,” she said, smiling. “He was rather unwell over it last time. When you brought us back he was throwing up all evening.”

“It does get better,” Ron insisted. “The more practice you get.”

“I must admit, your ways are far more convenient than ours,” Jane said. “Get to a place in a matter of seconds, rather than a two hour drive…”

“Yeah, well, hopefully we can use it more frequently,” Ron said. “Especially in the future. We’ll be asking you to babysit your grandchildren… er… whenever that happens.”

Jane smiled sympathetically. “We’ll be delighted to do that when the time comes,” she said. “You both still have plenty of time — as hard as that is to see at the moment.”

“No, we can see it,” Ron said, not sure why he had brought the topic up to begin with. He was doing his best to move forward, and despite he and Hermione deciding to keep trying to have a baby, their plan was to not discuss it without a reason. “We’ll get there. Just not the right time, you know.” He indicated the dwindling green flames and tossed some more Floo powder in.

With much less hesitation than her husband, Jane stepped in and vanished. Ron followed her a moment later, stepping out to find Hermione’s father sitting on the sofa looking very grey, and Jane setting the gifts under the Christmas tree.

Hermione came in a moment later with a glass of water and offered it to Robert.

“It does get easier, Dad,” she said. “The more practice you get, it’ll feel better.”

Robert gave a grunt to say he’d heard, but the look on his face as he accepted the glass of water from Hermione said he didn’t believe her.

Ron cleaned himself of soot and joined the others in the living room.

“We might drive the next time,” Jane said, sounding amused. In comparison to her husband’s ashen face, she looked the peak of health.

“Yes, well, once upon a time ago, you wouldn’t have even been allowed to use it,” Hermione said. “But new laws and everything makes it accessible under some circumstances.”

“I believe the term Percy used was essential reasons,” Ron said. “Which Christmas is… not.”

“Yes, well, they’re not going to reprimand us, are they?” Hermione replied with slightly flushed cheeks.

“So we’re doing things illegally around here?” Robert groaned, rubbing his temples. “I thought we raised you better than that, Hermione.”

Hermione’s face went a deeper red and Ron laughed out loud.

“She’s right, though,” he said. “In the Ministry’s eyes, we’re war heroes. They turn a blind eye to that kind of thing with us.”

“If we don’t do it too often,” Hermione added quickly. “Not to mention, Ron’s brother is in charge of all that stuff. Anyway, food is in the oven and should be ready by midday. Would you like anything to drink? Mum?”

“Whatever you have, Hermione,” Jane said.

“I bought some sort of expensive wine,” Hermione said. “Will that do? Ron?”

Ron nodded, though not enthusiastically. He still didn’t have a high opinion on Muggle wines, still much preferring the goblin-made stuff, but he could drink it if he had to.

Hermione disappeared from the living room, Ron seeing her pull her wand out from her pocket as she left.

“It’s been a few months since we last saw you both,” Jane said after a moment. “How are things going? How are you two going?”

It sounded like a simple question, but Ron understood what she meant.

“Yeah, good,” he said truthfully. “She’s a lot better now. Pretty much herself.”

“And you, Ron. How are you going?”

Ron looked to Robert, who seemed to have some of his colour returning to his face. Hermione’s dad was wearing that now all too familiar expression where Ron wasn’t sure if he was angry or amused.

“I’m good,” Ron said. “Really, I am. Things are good now. We’re… dealing with it. Positively.”

Jane and Robert both smiled as Hermione returned, levitating the drinks ahead of her.

“Good to hear,” Jane said quietly.

Hermione set the drinks on the coffee table and then passed them out. Ron watched her with intrigue, briefly wondering if she was being so active because she knew her parents would ask exactly what they had just asked Ron. But she seemed to be genuinely enjoying hosting.

This was a side to her he rarely saw, and he liked it.

Their conversation briefly drifted to other things — how work was going, it was supposed to snow in a few days, and Hermione’s parents inquiring into Harry and Ginny and how far away Ginny was from having the baby.

Before he realised, Ron had drunk the whole glass of wine and was surprised to find he’d rather enjoyed it. He had one of his arms around Hermione and she was leaning against him.

Relaxed.

“This isn’t a bad one,” he said to Hermione.

“Yes, well, it wasn’t cheap,” Hermione replied. “A once off.” She looked to her parents. “We have a gift for both of you if you’d like it now.”

“Hermione, dear, you really didn’t have to,” Jane said. “You know you don’t.”

Ron smiled. Standard answer, but everyone really liked gifts. Why lie, he thought?

“Of course we did, Mum,” Hermione said, and she got up, placing her near empty glass on the coffee table. She went to the Christmas tree and picked up one of the three presents that had been sitting there before Hermione’s parents had arrived. She brought it over to them, beaming.

“Merry Christmas,” she said. She returned to her spot beside Ron as they began opening the gift.

The pretence of not wishing to receive anything left Robert almost immediately as the wrapping fell off.

She’d bought them from Diagon Alley one Saturday in November. They had been there for something else, but she’d just stopped out the front of a shop window, almost dislocating Ron’s arm from his body because he hadn’t been expecting it.

“What?” he’d asked, coming to stand beside her.

“See those wine glasses?” she’d asked, pointing to two sparkling glasses in the window.

“Goblin-Made, Self-Cleaning SparkleGlass,” Ron read. “Sounds interesting. But do we need them?”

“No, but Mum and Dad might. For Christmas,” Hermione said.

“Fifteen Galleons for the set,” Ron reasoned. “Not too bad.”

“Should I get them?”

“Yeah, sure.”

And she was in the shop before he had the chance to change his mind.

“You never have to wash them,” Hermione said proudly. “They’re goblin-made, they clean themselves, and they never break. No matter what.”

“You know, Hermione,” Robert said admiring one of the glasses in his hand, “I think you think we like our wine more than we should…”

Hermione went pink. Ron smirked.

“No, I don’t think… I just don’t know what else to get you sometimes…”

“They’re lovely, Hermione,” Jane said kindly, giving Robert a reprimanding look. “Thank you.”

“Honestly, it’s wonderful,” Robert agreed, setting the glass back in its box. “I was only joking. You know me… we have something for you kids, too. Of course. It’s a big one this year.”

“Don’t give it away,” Jane said, though she smiled, and it piqued Ron’s interest. He still very much appreciated their gift of a television a few Christmases back and he didn’t know if it could get any bigger than that.

And it wasn’t. Not literally, at least. Jane passed them an envelope which Ron could only assume contained a card.

“Like you, it’s difficult as you get older. But we hope this will help with any future plans the pair of you have.”

Hermione opened the envelope and then the card, which contained a single piece of decorated paper. It made very little sense to Ron, but it seemed to mean something to Hermione, for she closed it quickly and gaped at her parents.

“What?” Ron said. “What is it?”

Still staring at her parents, Hermione passed the card to Ron, who opened it. There was a five-digit number written on the piece of paper, which Ron knew would have to be money of some kind, and the card read:

Use this to contribute to the mortgage on your house. We hope it helps.

Love, Mum and Dad (Robert and Jane).

“Er… thanks,” Ron said after a moment when Hermione didn’t speak. He looked at her. “This is nice.”

“It’s too much,” Hermione whispered. “It’s…”

“A good chunk out of a debt that will last you a lifetime,” Robert said. “We know you both earn good money with your jobs and that you’re managing fine. But… this just frees you up a little more. Maybe you can go out for dinner a few extra nights a month, go on a holiday instead of giving it to the bank.”

“Without bringing up difficult memories,” Jane added, “we know you’ve both been struggling the last few months, so we just thought by giving you this… it would help.”

“Thanks,” Ron said again, not at all understanding Hermione’s astonishment at the gift. She knew her parents had more money than they knew what to do with. They’d gifted them some to get the house to begin with, and now they were gifting even more to help pay it off. Robert had been right — owning a house in the Muggle world was a monstrous debt that Ron preferred not to think about when he could help it. It was a much cheaper expenditure in wizarding society.

Her parents smiled, but Hermione still said nothing. They all sat there for a moment, Ron beginning to wonder if she was actually upset with them, because she liked to do things on her own — prove she was capable of things. She frequently criticised people like Draco Malfoy, who’d had most things handed to him growing up and didn’t seem to know how to do things for himself.

But then she stood up and engulfed her mum in a tight hug.

Ron smiled, chancing a glance at Robert, who nodded at him.

Hermione hugged her father, too, and then finally thanked them, but still insisting that it was still too much money to give them. But she didn’t look set to give it back, which Ron was grateful for.

Fifteen minutes later, Ron and Hermione went into the kitchen to check on the food.

“That was nice of your parents,” Ron said, trying to sound casual. “With the money.”

“You understand enough now, Ron, to know how much it is,” Hermione said, opening the oven, checking on the vegetables and then closing it again.

“Yeah, I know it’s enough that we’ll be making very minimal contributions from here on in.”

She nodded.

“You seem upset,” Ron observed.

“Not upset, just… shocked. That’s all.”

“It’ll help us a lot,” Ron said. “You know it will.”

“Yeah, I know, but it just seems so… not real. And I’ve always thought that it would be something we work together in paying off, you know. Especially because they already helped us out at the start. I just thought —”

“Well, the benefits of being an only child, huh,” Ron said. “They have no one else to give presents like that to. No one else to share it with.”

Hermione smiled slightly and looked at him.

“It’s still our house, Hermione. We’ve still contributed to it. We’ve made it our own. It belongs to us and it will belong to us for as long as we want. They just want to help.”

“I know, and I appreciate it. It just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“Well, now we can take up your dad’s suggestion of a holiday, yeah?” Ron said. “Where do you want to go? Paris? Berlin?”

“Ha!” Hermione said. “Maybe one day…” She stopped, thoughtful for a moment. Then a smile broke out on her face. “This will be really good for us.”

“Obviously.”

“Lunch is almost ready. This Christmas has just gotten a lot better.”

Ron leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “It’s definitely been my favourite so far. So much to love about this Christmas. And I love you the most.”

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lala-ladybug · 3 years ago

Text

Healing Hands: Chapter 7

Little bit of a filler, but we’ve got some fun shenanigans in store! >:)

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Chapter 7: Guys bein’ dudes indeed

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Marinette was up early again. She found herself some breakfast, then went to the stables. The Order had made it back late last night, so they didn’t have time to groom the horses. She entered the first stall and started to brush the first horse. The routine motion let her mind drift, and she thought back to the events of the past few weeks.

Marinette, Kagami, and Luka embarked on their daily ritual of collecting the morning paper from town. It was the day after they’d beaten the first boss, which they had reported anonymously. Marinette and Adrien had agreed that taking the credit would only serve to draw unwanted attention towards their group, which could put them and the rest of their friends in danger.

But it apparently had another unforeseen advantage. As Marinette paid for the newspaper that highlighted their victory, she heard comments from other players around her.

“Are you serious? Some party went rogue and beat the first dungeon on their own?”

“Selfish assholes, can’t believe they got all that loot to themselves.”

“Well I think it’s good that we’re making progress!”

“Yeah, if you ignore the fact that they didn’t tell us what it was like at all, so now we haven’t got a clue how to face the next one.”

She shook her head in disbelief and glanced at her companions, who looked similarly concerned. They hadn’t even considered that the other people might not want them to take up the battle alone. Or that last comment, that they were actually hurting the other players by not giving them the chance to fight too.

The three remained quiet until they returned to Chloe’s house, or the manor, as they’d taken to calling it. By then, Adrien and Chloe were awake, and followed without question as Marinette ushered the two to join her, Kagami, and Luka out by the well.

She told them what the people in town had said, Luka and Kagami jumping in with additional comments they’d heard from passersby, and they talked it over. Maybe it was worth fighting with other groups. It would certainly beat the first boss.

They decided to try working with others for the next dungeon, but to lead the battle so that the civilians would stay as safe as possible. There were already groups in town recruiting for it and people exploring the second level, so it couldn’t be too long before they found the next fight. They’d be ready this time, they thought.

Less than two weeks passed before they were ready to take on the second dungeon. The Order had spent the whole time training and leveling up. There was hardly a moment where they weren’t fighting monsters or sparring with each other. They became almost more adept with their new weapons than they were with their ones from the real world. Those days of miraculous encounters seemed a lifetime ago.

The Order made preparations with other groups of players, determining strategy and planning to play to each others’ strengths. All the parties assembled at the dungeon and set up to fight the boss.

All things considered, it could have gone much worse. The support teams kept all the fighters’ HP high, and they had whatever cover they needed whenever they needed it. The battle was significantly shorter with around forty players there. But when the other players got hit....

Marinette could still hear the screams of the civilians as they went down. The blood oozing from their wounds was so very lifelike, and there was no cure to sew them shut. Or bring them back if they fell.

Kagami and Adrien were focused on taking what would have been killing blows if the boss had struck anyone but them. Chloe and Marinette drew fire away from the other players, and Luka used his mace and shield to defend his fellow healers. But Marinette saw the pained look on his face at being separated from the rest. She relived the moment Kagami and Adrien went down while fighting the first boss in frequent nightmares, and she knew Luka did too. The two of them had shared a few too many late-night cups of tea while avoiding sleep.

They won the battle, but there were so many wounded, so many close calls. One look at her Order and she knew they felt as lost as she did. Was it worth it? The thought seemed to echo through each of their movements as they returned to the manor.

“Marinette?” Alya’s call shook her out of her daze. She looked down at her hands and saw that she’d finished brushing the last of the horses. Putting the brush away, she returned to the main space in the downstairs of their home.

Home. She supposed that’s what it was now, but it didn’t feel like it. The design of it was very cozy, there was no doubt about that. But she saw it as little more than a place to eat and sleep. There were far more important things she could be doing, sitting down to relax was out of the question.

“There you are,” Alya grinned from the kitchen. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in days!” She carried a simple charcuterie board into the living/dining area and placed it on the table. Nino, Adrien, Lila, Alix, Nathaniel, and Luka were already sitting in the various couches and chairs gathered around it.

“We were just about to have a snack and play some cards,” Alya said over her shoulder as she used a poker to encourage a small fire in the hearth. “You should join us, girl!”

Marinette’s gut response was to refuse, and she waved her hands and made excuses but Luka and Adrien got up and marched her over to sit next to them. “C’mon Buginette, you need this,” Adrien said quietly in her ear. Luka just gave her a meaningful look.

Over-protective mother hens.

She sighed and gave in. One afternoon of cards couldn’t hurt.

Nathaniel was on her other side. While Alya dealt out the cards, Marinette asked him, “How’s the garden coming along?”

His face lit up with a quiet joy. “It’s going great! I don’t know if the weather is going to change, but the onions are taking nicely!” She listened with a small smile on her face as he went on about the different crops he was planting in the garden. He’d really stepped up to grow the bulk of their food, and seemed to genuinely enjoy spending his days taking care of the plants.

She was glad that he could still talk freely to her, even in the game. They’d always been close and it was nice to see his artistic spirit was unbothered by... everything.

Adrien nudged her to play her turn, and she did so quickly. Across from her, Alix and Nino were laughing at something Lila had said, and Alya sat up proudly with a comment that made them laugh even harder.

On Adrien’s other side, Luka had his hands of cards facedown on his lap while he strummed a lute he’d bought the other day. The pleasant melody lifted her spirits and reminded her of happier times.

This is what she was fighting for, she realized. For Nathaniel to take pride in his art, for her dear friends to laugh, and for Luka to play his music. She blinked away the tears that rose in her eyes. This is what was worth fighting for.

Even if she couldn’t bring herself to sew, to create like she used to love doing. Here she just had to be Marinette the friend or Marinette the fighter. It was almost easier, having less to manage. And yet... she couldn’t feel that same joy for herself that she found so precious to her friends. Not until they were all home again. She couldn’t let herself.

* * *

Jason trudged into the base, pack digging into his shoulder with all the loot he’d recovered. He’d spent the past few days camping and level-grinding, which was apparently the correct term for it. He couldn’t even remember what Dick had said to set him off, but he needed to be on his own for a while. The woods were surprisingly peaceful, and he found the time spent by himself in nature to be refreshing.

“Hey.” Dick sounded pissed. The hell was his problem? Jason wasn’t even back long enough to do anything. Jason turned on his heel and raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Dick thrust a newspaper into his hands in response. He folded his arms, clearly expecting Jason to read it right then and there. Jason sighed loudly and slung his pack off. He turned his attention to the paper in his hand.

“Coalition of over forty players defeats second dungeon,” he read aloud. Shit.

“Just thought you should know,” Dick said in his I told you so voice. “When you went on your little adventure, you missed the next boss fight.”

Oh, now he remembered why he left! Because his “brother” is an asshole. “My little adventure was to get experience and level up,” he glared at Dick. “Which is still doing something more productive than just sitting on my fuckin’ hands.”

Dick’s nostrils flared. Good, he was itching for this conversation. “We are not doing nothing. We need more time to practice with the gameplay. Hell, Gar still tries to shift when we spar!” He threw up his hands in frustration. “We’re nowhere near ready yet, Jay.”

“You know, there’s more to this game than fuckin’ sparring.” Jason retorted.

Dicks brows shot up. “Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who so desperately wants to get back to our lives that he runs off on his own.”

“I can’t stand being cooped up in this damn house all the time! Just because we’re stuck in this game doesn’t mean we have to stop living,” Jason shook his head. “We’ve already been in here for over a month, who’s to say how much longer it’ll be? We can’t just put our fuckin’ lives on hold the whole time.”

“Training to beat the game isn’t putting our lives on hold,” Dick rolled his eyes. “This place is a death trap in case you forgot. We need to train to get our lives back.”

This idiot just didn’t get it. “Oh sure, and in the meantime we can’t have any happiness or fun. Sounds pretty miserable to me.” He picked up his pack. “You can level up without training at all hours of the fuckin’ day, no matter what a certain black-haired, blue-eyed bastard says.”

Jason stormed out the door, bumping into Garfield on his way back outside. The kid stumbled backwards before pointing finger guns at him. “Nice alliteration!”

He ignored him and kept walking down the path that led into town.

“Hey, hey wait a minute!” Seriously kid? He heard that argument with Dick but still couldn’t take the fuckin’ hint.

Garfield caught up to him and said, “You know, for someone who was supposed to have a relaxing vacation, you sure look tense.”

“Fuckin’ excuse me?” Jason growled.

“Wh-what I mean is you’re probably looking for a way to burn off some steam!”

This was getting old. “Get to the point, kid.”

“On the third level, there’s a quest we can do to make our own guild!” Garfield bounced excitedly, keeping pace next to him. Well, a quest would certainly help get this new brotherly stress out of his system. “We want you to join us, pleeeeaaaase?”

“Hold up, who the hell is us?”

Garfield grinned at him. “Oh you know, just a couple of the guys.”

They’d reached a junction in the path that led to the main road. Waiting beneath the tree beside the signpost were Roy, Jaime, and Bart. The ex-speedster waved excitedly while Roy looked about as pleased to be here as Jason did. They got along swimmingly.

“Hey dudes, everyone cool if Jason joins us?” Garfield reached out to pat his back then hesitated as he thought better of it.

Jaime shrugged while Bart gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. Roy gave him a pitying look, like he’d been dragged into it too.

“Fine.” Jason muttered to no one in particular. “Are we heading out now?”

The other four got their things together. Jaime sent out party invites to everyone to better keep track of each other, which Roy and Jason reluctantly accepted. Garfield pulled up a pamphlet and started leafing through it. Jason spied the title, The Good Adventurer’s Guide to Guilds. Lovely.

“Alright,” Garfield snapped the papers shut and started walking down the path into town. “Let’s go to level three and get this bread!”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “The quest is to retrieve some bread?” He asked incredulously.

“Well, no but yes! But no. Man, we gotta teach you slang,” Bart slung an arm around Roy’s shoulders. The latter pushed him off and Jaime sped up his pace to plant himself as a buffer in between them as they walked.

Dumbasses.

The walk into town was easy, and they used the teleportation kiosk in the town square to get to the third level without a hitch.

The third level had some more interesting terrain than the plains of the first and second levels. Cliffs and quarries dotted the landscape in front of them. The main town itself was built onto a cliff, a gaping valley splayed out before them with minute details.

“Oh wow,” Garfield said. “This reminds me of that one town in France where--”

“Don’t care. Let’s move.” Roy cut him off and stalked down the winding road that would take them down into the valley. Jason smirked and followed suit.

Garfield made a face, then followed them along with the others. He pulled out his pamphlet again, then pointed them in the direction of the quest. Some quarry worker NPC wanted help collecting materials. If they got him everything on his list, he would apparently grant them the rights to start a guild? It made less and less sense as Gar read aloud from the paper.

They trekked on for a few hours, easily hacking apart the common monsters they came across. Between Jason and Roy, the others hardly had time to draw their weapons before the threats were gone.

“What’s better than this?” Garfield put an arm around Jason and Bart’s shoulders. Jaime grinned and put his arms around Bart and Roy. “Guys bein’ dudes!” He finished.

Roy, Bart, and Jason exchanged mystified glances. Roy and Jason had been out of the loop for roughly the same period of time, and Bart had told them before that not much of contemporary pop culture had survived into his future.

Guys bein’ dudes indeed.

Between the five of them, gathering the listed materials and getting them to the worker by sundown was easy. Well, it was easy for most of them.

“You look like a mess, ese!” Jaime exclaimed, seeing a very sticky and scratched-up Garfield. He groaned and replied, “Had to get tree sap. Trees fought back....”

Well, that served the little shrimp right, Jason thought to himself. He and Roy had been collecting gemstones, which could be mined out from the caves littered throughout the floor... or the infinitely more fun way of killing giant gemstone monsters. Take a wild fuckin’ guess which one they chose.

Jason was actually pretty content with the levels he’d gained from the quest. Not to mention getting his excess anger out from talking to Dick. It seemed like whenever he went to the house, there was always some type of disagreement between the two.

Damn. Maybe he should start saving for his own house.

His party currently stood in line at the guild registration office, also located on the third level. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the valley, highlighting the small clusters of houses dotting the countryside.

“Oh crap,” Garfield suddenly said. He danced nervously on his feet. “We did the whole quest, but I forgot the most important thing!”

Roy looked at him sharply. “What’s wrong?”

“We need a name for our guild!” Garfield wailed, clutching his hands to his head.

Seriously? Roy scoffed, “Why not just Justice League?”

Jaime rounded on him. “Are you nuts, ese? We can’t go around calling ourselves the Justice League. Secret identities and all that.”

Garfield paced in line, clearly thinking hard. “Hmm, justice. Juuuuustice. Just-ice. Just ice! Hey, we could do something with that!” He exclaimed.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah that’s great,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “How about On the Rocks.”

Bart put a hand on his chin, looking thoughtful. “Well, we should add a little pizzazz to it, don’t you think?”

“I’ve got it! Rocky Road!” Garfield threw his hands in the air triumphantly. God this kid was excessive.

Jaime and Bart, after the former had explained it to him, voiced their approval. Roy and Jason looked at each other and silently commiserated over their unfortunate situation.

Rocky Road it was.

* * *

“Ugh, that was way harder than it needed to be.” Alya slumped over her battle axe.

Marinette giggled and offered her friend some water. “Well, a ton of other people are starting guilds too! So I guess there are limited resources for a while.”

Nino took the water from Alya after she’d finished with it. He drained it and looked heartbroken until Adrien handed him a new bottle.

The four of them had decided to team up and do the quest to establish a guild. Not everyone in the guild needed to attend the quest to establish one. So when Alya and Nino had approached Marinette and Adrien, asking if the original friend group could be the ones to do it, they couldn’t say no.

“Well, I just wish Marinette had told us about the quest sooner. Then we could have had an easier time!” Lila simpered, sweet as ever. Oh yeah, Lila had invited herself to come along too.

“Weren’t you also a beta tester?” Adrien frowned innocently.

Lila blinked, looking startled. “Oh yes! But you know about my memory issues. I really wish I could remember all these things to help us out,” she sighed dramatically. Typical.

“So!” Marinette decided to move that conversation right along. “We need a name for our guild. Got any ideas?”

Nino rubbed his arm. “Actually dudes, I’ve been thinking of a name for a while.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it!” Adrien smiled and nudged his best friend’s arm.

“Well, I was thinking we could be called Miracle Workers,” Nino began. Marinette traded a look of alarm with Adrien. “You know, because Alya and I used to be miraculous holders? And I thought it’d be kinda nice to honor Chat Noir, Ladybug, and the other heroes. We could use some of their strength right about now.” Oh, that was actually really sweet of him. Marinette offered Adrien a soft smile.

Alya looked at him fondly. Adrien, with a slight nod of approval from Marinette, gave him a side hug and said, “I think that’s a wonderful name.”

Lila tapped her chin. “I don’t know, workers seems a little odd to me. We’re more like leaders or executives.”

“Well, I think Miracle Workers is perfect, babe.” Alya leaned in to peck Nino on the cheek. “Let’s go with that.”

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#jasonette #sword art online au #virtual reality #maribat #maribat fic #batfam #batfam fic #yj #yj fic #young justice #young justice fic #healing hands

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art-of-e · 3 years ago

Text

happy pride month! it took me a couple weeks to figure out what i wanted to draw for it, but it’s finally done! there are two versions of it, one with just me and one with a bunch of my queer ocs (of which there are many, but i wanted to show my queer relationships specifically)

(as always, click for better image quality) descriptions of all of the characters/relationships shown (as well as myself) are below the cut!

i spent 9 and a half hours on this, so if it isn’t too much to ask, please reblog this if you like it!! it helps people see my work more than liking it does!

top right corner: the man with the blue shirt is val (he/him, bi) and his partner is kelly (he/him, gay). fun fact: these two were the first same-sex couple i ever made! i had little knowledge of how mlm experiences differ from my own at the time, and i’m still doing my best to write them with as much respect as possible, but hopefully they’re good representation (and in case anyone is wondering, val is black and kelly is latino!) :)

bottom left corner: the girl with the grey hair is grace (she/her, bi), and her partner is penny (she/her, lesbian). these two are the main characters of the story i’m currently working on, and they’re the youngest of the queer characters included in this picture (these two are 15 while the rest of them are in their early 20s). i haven’t had them as characters for as long as all of these other characters (except for maybe speckles, who i’ll talk about in a bit), but writing them (and especially their relationship) has been so much fun, i love them dearly

bottom right corner: the person in the blue binder is speckles (she/they, non-binary, bi), the person with pink hair is roxie (she/they, genderflux, pan), and the woman between the two of them is clover (she/her, bi). these three are the first polycule i’ve ever written, and it stemmed from a love triangle where speckles and clover both had feelings for roxie, and eventually i just decided “hey they should all be together” and now they are, good for them!!

also! i felt like i should say this! any character of mine who is not specified to be cis or trans can be interpreted as either, and trans headcanons are very welcome, i’d even say encouraged :) so yeah there’s that

and finally, center: since this is me, i thought i might as well introduce myself if you don’t already know who i am (or even if you do). so hello! my name is crow (and i also go by e)! i’m bi and genderfluid, and i use they/them pronouns. i’m not gonna get super deep into my personal history right now, but i’ll give some important details. i’ve known i was attracted to more than one gender for about four years now, but figuring out i was genderfluid happened a lot more recently. in fact, this is the first pride i’ve ever gotten to spend knowing my name and identity, and it feels surreal in the best way possible. i’ve known since around this time (summer) last year that i was genderfluid, but i didn’t figure out what i wanted my name to be until november of last year, and knowing it and hearing people call me it is one of the most amazing feelings i’ve ever experienced. i want to thank anyone reading this who has been a part of this journey (you know who you are, hi, i love you very much), as well as anyone who has read this far, that means a lot to me. thank you and happy pride to anyone reading this <3.

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julilihatfun · 5 years ago

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Prompty prompt: Geralt is really struggling in a battle and Jaskier can't just stand by and watch anymore, so he goes up there and kinda saves Geralt, giving him the chance to finally kill the monster...BUT Jaskier is hurt in the process which he doesn't want to admit, being the hero for the first time. He hides it until he just passes out and Geralt takes care of him, mad at himself for letting the bard get hurt, but also thankful. Sorry it's not very original, but hope you like it!

Prompt request: Jaskier hits his head and is concussed and ends up moody, disoriented, and uncoordinated, maybe a bit nauseous, but Geralt never saw him hit his head and has to find out through a careful insoection when he realizes his travelling companion is acting strangely.

Hey guys - sorry for disappearing for a while :( Everything is just really overwhelming at the moment and well :((( but I hope you enjoy this and I really hope, that you are safe and well!!! (I combined two prompts for this, because it kind of seemed fitting)

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

Jaskier watched Geralt fight – at first, in awe (as always, because honestly: how can one fight so ferociously while looking that graceful), but then in concern, because the Witcher seemed to be in trouble. And that was something that Jaskier had never seen before.

The giant creature loomed over Geralts head – all bloodthirsty and monster-like – while Geralt frantically scrambled away from it and towards the heavy iron sword that had been smacked away from him a few moments earlier.

“Geralt!”, Jaskier screamed and he sounded hysterical and panicked, but he did not care at all. This was a literal nightmare come to life.

“Stay down!”, Geralt roared, not even looking at the bard, because he was too busy dodging attack after attack.

And it did not look like the beast was getting tired. Which, in turn, meant, that staying down was not an option if he wanted Geralt to actually survive this shit.

He did not even have to think about it then – just jumped up and out of his hiding place with a loud, screechy screaming noise, that kind of betrayed his fear, and stumbled towards the fight.

He seemed to be much less interesting than Geralt (highly offensive, if you asked him – he did not wear those ridiculously colourful outfits to be ignored like this), because the huge thing did not even take one eye away from Geralts prone form.

Geralt screamed at him to ‘get the fuck back’, while Jaskier searched the forest ground for something, anything, that he could use as a weapon. He had to be fast, because Geralt seemed to come no closer to gaining back control over the fight.

“Aha!”, he cheered, when he finally found something that could work.

And throwing a stone at the creature really did seem to finally do the trick, because it suddenly turned on Jaskier in an alarming speed.

“Oi!”, Jaskier bellowed, tripping over his own feet in an effort to get away faster. “Stop.”

He was not fast enough, of course, because he felt the thing yank his feet out from under him, making him fall hard. His head was catapulted forward in a sickening motion and bounced off of the moist ground, which definitely hurt a lot.

Jaskier turned around, seeing stars dance around his vision, just in time to see Geralt (who apparently was much faster than Jaskier) bring his sword down on the beast’s neck, effectively separating its ugly head from its massive body.

Jaskier barely had enough time to roll away when the thing started falling towards him and felt the ground shake beneath him, when the monsters mutilated form came down right next to him.

He stared at the beast for a long moment in silent wonder, then his gaze swept to Geralt, who was already staring at him.

“I take partial credit for this one.”, he said then, shakily, moving to pull himself up on a nearby tree.

Geralt huffed, still eying him grimly. He growled out a clipped: “That was incredibly dumb.”, which made the bard gasp in mock-hurt.

“Geralt how dare you? I practically saved your life back there! – quite heroically, if I dare say so myself.”, Jaskier snapped back jokingly. And he knew that he would have handled the situation better had he known even the most basic fighting techniques, but he did not have any skills and stuff somehow still worked out, so he felt pretty proud of himself.

Geralt closed his eyes in frustration and heaved out a heavy sigh, before surprising Jaskier with a grumbled: “I did not say that you did not save my life.” Geralt threw him a stern look. “But that does not make it any less stupid.”

Jaskier practically glowed with glee and pride. “I can already envision the glorious ballad! Brave Jaskier, the humble bard, fearlessly throwing himself into the raging battle of-“

“Jaskier.”

“Yeah?”

“You threw a stone.” Jaskier actually saw the bastards mouth twitching in the effort to hide a grin. “Don’t get cocky.”

“Hey! I threw that stone very bravely!”

Geralt actually huffed out a small laugh then, but when he took in the bards disgruntled clothes, smeared with dirt and grime, his face grew serious again. “You went down pretty hard. You hurt anywhere?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Warriors don’t get hurt.”

“You broke a toe dancing last month.”, Geralt noted dryly. “Well, come to think of it, I guess you did not get hurt as you’d already be whining about it if you did.”

“Hey, that toe-thing hurt.”, Jaskier pouted. “I normally am very pain resistant.”

“Sure are.”

And they left it at that. Although Jaskier knew how immensely grateful Geralt really was, when he offered him a spot on Roach (which Jaskier, obviously, happily accepted).

Riding, for some weird reason, made Jaskier kind of dizzy, so he could barely force down three bites of his stew, before he surrendered and pushed his plate towards Geralt.

“Can you get horse sick?”, he asked dreamily and immediately felt Geralts boring stare on him. He looked up. “What?”

“You’re sick?”, Geralt inquired suspiciously, having been wary ever since Jaskier fell oddly silent as soon as they had mounted Roach.

“I never said that.”, Jaskier exclaimed defensively. “It’s probably the adrenaline wearing off.”

“Hm.”

“Nothing a good pint of ale won’t be able to fix, right? And a good night’s sleep – we should really think about sleeping in real beds more often. You know, to get proper rest and socialize instead of wasting away in the forest.”, Jaskier rambled on, desperate to change the subject in order to not have Geralt on his case all week because of a bit on an upset stomach.

“Hm.”

“Spoilsport.”

They separated for the night shortly after; Geralt immediately retreating to their shared room and Jaskier spending some time wooing the small audience with carefully composed songs and mirror-practiced charms. Though, Jaskier did call it a night unusually early too, having promised himself that healing sleep will free him from all ailments that came with kind-of fighting alongside Geralt.

And well, he was wrong.

He woke up to a splitting headache.

“Yikes.”, he groaned as he sat up, bringing up both hands to massage his temples.

“Had a drop too much?”

And as Jaskier thought about it, he came to the conclusion, that he actually had no idea how much he drank the evening prior – not the normal blank he drew, when the evening blurred together in a mass of pints and shots and girls and… no, this was a complete memory lapse.

To him, it was annoying more than scary, really.

“Screw you, Geralt.”, Jaskier snapped, because Geralt sounded way too smug for his liking. Also, no matter how hard he tried, he could not draw up a single memory.

“Touchy, aren’t you?”, Geralt asked with an obvious smirk.

Jaskier snorted. “Are we leaving?”, he asked then, when his gaze fell on Geralts packed bags; took in the Witcher’s general impatient demeanour.

“Yeah.”, Geralt confirmed his fears. “Took you long enough to wake.”

He looked at Jaskier for a moment, as if searching for something. “Breakfast is on me.”

Geralt’s way of showing gratitude. Jaskier knew, that he should be immensely happy, but he just felt… kind of weird and muddle-headed. Also, still very nauseous.

“I feel so loved.”, he cheered weakly, mostly out of habit. He could probably stomach some food anyways – most times, it even helped him get over a hangover.

When Jaskier had packed up and they stepped out of the inn and into a small tavern, the smell of freshly cooked eggs and beans wafting their way, Jaskier changed his mind.

“Know what:-“, he choked out, dizzily. “I guess I’m not hungry after all. I’ll just… stay with Roach. Outside.”

“Hm.”, Geralt grunted dangerously. “You barely ate yesterday evening.”

“I’m watching my figure.”

“Jaskier…”

Geralt watched the bards face take on a greyish-green hue and he grabbed Jaskiers upper arm roughly, dragging him outside, and nearly pushed him into a bush off the beaten path, away from prying eyes.

“Do what you have to do.”, Geralt said, and it almost sounded compassionate.

“I’m fine.”, Jaskier gulped, despite all logic and appearance. “Jus’ hungover or somethin’.”

“Hmm.”

“Seriously.”, Jaskier mumbled, still breathing heavily in an attempt to fight off the nausea.

“Right.”, Geralt sighed, watching Jaskiers face slowly morph into a more healthy-looking colour. “If you think so.”

“You going back in?”

“No.”, Geralt said, eying Jaskier warily. “Let’s just leave. We can eat later.”

“Alright.”, the bard sighed. His head still hurt and he suddenly felt exhausted. “Let’s, then.”

They walked towards Roach in silence and – unusually enough – it was Geralt who finally broke it, when he strapped his bag onto her back. “You wanna ride with me?”

Just the thought made Jaskier feel terribly ill again. “Hard pass.” He knew that walking would be tough on him too, but there was something distinct to the jostling motion on the horse’s saddle that made it particularly unattractive to him that day.

Geralt eyed him suspiciously. He did not often offer, but when he did, Jaskier never refused.

“You’re acting strange.”, he noted. “Well, more so than usual.”

“Ouch.”, Jaskier said, already a few steps ahead of the Witcher. “I’m great, and you know it.”

So they walked – or well, Jaskier walked. And he kept walking, even when he kept getting dizzier and more disoriented and his head started pounding in earnest.

It was when stars started dancing around his vision, that he knew that he was in real trouble. “Geralt-“, he breathed, hearing his own voice tremble and crack.

And he saw Geralt stop abruptly and turn out of the corner of his eye, before his vision went entirely black.

When Jaskier woke up, the first thing he noticed was his still-pounding head. Then, something weird, wet on his still-pounding head. “Th’fuck.”, he mumbled in disgust, slowly moving to sit up.

“Stay down.”, a low voice growled.

“G’ralt?”

“Don’t want you doing more damage than you already did.”

“Ow.” Jaskier sat up despite Geralts warning because honestly, that’s just the kind of person he was, and one of Geralts old shirts, all wet and bunched up, fell into his lap with a splat. “Huh.”

He heard Geralt sigh. “Stubborn bastard.” Then, Geralts face was only inches away from his own.

“Uh, Geralt.”

“Look at me.” Geralt stared more intently into his eyes.

“You’re scaring me.”, Jaskier mumbled weakly. Focusing on Geralt was exhausting and the sun’s brightness was only making him feel worse.

Geralt straightened up again. “You hit your head yesterday.”

“Is that supposed to be a question?”

“Not if we both know the answer.”

“Right.” Jaskier continued squinting at Geralt. “I might have hit it.”

Geralt let out a big sigh. “Thank you for telling me right away instead of fainting in the middle of our journey.”

Jaskier furrowed his eyebrows (which made his head pound more fiercely, but well: worth it). “Are you… being sarcastic right now?”

“You were out for hours, Jaskier.”, Geralt snarled, clearly signalling that he was not to be joked with right now. “Wouldn’t wake.”

“I…”, Jaskier began, before letting his head fall into his hands. “Can we do this when my head does not feel like it’s splitting in two?”

He felt a warm hand on his back, lowering him back down, before it vanished for a second and returned with Geralts wet shirt, draping it over his face. Jaskier sighed in pleasure. The ground beside his sleeping mat rustled and he felt Geralt lowering himself down next to him.

There was awkward silence where Jaskier would normally chatter away. But he was to achy and tired to do so then.

“I should have noticed earlier.”, he heard Geralt grumble after a while, mostly to himself, as it seemed. He frowned.

“Stop, your self-pity is making my head hurt.”

“Your concussion is making your head hurt.”

Jaskier sighed, trying to snuggle closer to Geralt in search of comfort. A big hand settled on his shoulder. “Maybe that, yeah.”, he agreed, putting his own hand over Geralts.

The Witcher breathed out a gentle laugh. “Rest, Jaskier.”

#the witcher #Jaskier #Geralt #whump #jaskier whump #hurt/comfort #hurt jaskier #prompts #wow what a time #feeling very worried about the elderly people i work with #literally wake up at night crying about this #oh well #let's hope it gets better soon #and stay home #:(

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donutloverxo · 4 years ago

Text

Salty Baby

Chapter five

Please do not steal or repost my works. Reblogs are welcome.

Summary- When you moved to New York in hopes of living a glamorous life this isn’t what you expected. Steve offers to help you but your pride gets in the way. Pride isn’t going to pay your rent and college loans.

Pairing- Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings- smut, little anal stuff, daddy kink, angst, hurt/comfort, sugar daddy/baby themes

Word count- 2.2k

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four

Masterlist

Not having to work at the cafe or babysit your nephews freed up a lot of time for you. You were used to caring for others, always being busy with something. What the heck are you supposed to do now? Steve suggested getting a hobby. You tried cooking and almost burned down the kitchen.

Steve had been on a mission for two weeks. He had promised to be back in one. Your anxiety was through the roof. This is the longest you had been away from him. You weren’t allowed to contact him. Your worst fear was to find out something bad happened to him through the news.

It was also the first time you were truly alone. At first it was your mother and her delinquent friends and then your loud nephews. Now there was no one . No one to annoy you, nothing to do. Just silence.

Silence was deafening. It made your mind go to dark places, think about dark things. Things you pushed in some corner of your mind. You had to. You weren’t going to wallow in sadness forever.

You deserved to be happy. You kept telling yourself over and over again.

You were making some ramen for dinner after writing a long tedious paper. With your favorite show on, you were set for a nice relaxing night.

You shrieked when you looked at your supersoilder standing in the middle of your living room, almost dropping your bowl of ramen. You hadn’t even heard him come in.

You carelessly dropped the bowl on the coffee table embracing him in a tight hug. His scent overwhelming your senses. You felt tears roll down your cheeks. You were blown away by the relief you felt seeing him safe and sound and the weeks of longing and restless nights spent without him.

He let put a muffled groan before wrapping his arms around you. “I missed you too” He whispered nuzzling his nose in your hair.

You pushed yourself off of him, cradling his face in your hand. “Are you hurt?” You asked.

Steve was always distant when he got back from a long mission. He would still crave your hugs and cuddles, sometimes your body, to switch back to his normal self. You didn’t mind. You wanted to be there for him as he was for you. Your heart broke at the physical and emotional toll his work took on him.

“Oh my god” You cried looking his white t-shirt, now stained with blood around his ribs. You softly touched it with your hand. Taking it back instantly when you heard him hiss. “Why didn’t you get it checked out?”

“Don’t worry about it doll. I heal pretty fast. I just needed to see you” He said dipping down a bit to capture your lips.

You pulled away before he could. Frowning at him. “How could you be so careless?”

Turns out he did have a flaw after all. A fatal one at that.

He gave you a pout tilting his head a bit. By now he knew exactly how to play you. “Oh fine” You huffed. Standing on your tippy toes to capture his lips. You didn’t give in completely though, pulling away after just a few seconds.

You pulled on his hand, dragging him to the bathroom. Your ordered him to sit on the toilet seat while you looked for the first aid kit. You had patched up your mother and your sister a few times but you didn’t have a lot of experience with it. He really should have gotten his wounds checked at the med bay.

You stood in front of him pouring the alcohol on a small cotton bud. You looked at him, he was staring at his hands, his knuckles bruised.

“Hey come back to me” You whispered softly kneeling in front of him, caressing his swollen cheek.

“I should have stayed at the tower” he gave you a small smile “I don’t want you seeing me like this”

“No, don’t say that. I just want you to be more careful. You’re not alone anymore. I don’t mind patching you up or taking care of you”

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be more careful” He kissed your palm, his smile lifting up ever so slightly.

After stitching up some of his wounds you made him some tea to calm his nerves. You talked about your week while sipping on yours. You asked him about his mission but didn’t pry too much since he didn’t want to talk about it.

After a few hours most of his wounds healed and he seemed to relax. You were both in bed holding hands. Usually your legs would be tangled together while you were pressed tight, holding each other. You didn’t want to agitate his wounds so you chose to keep your distance. It was easy said than done. Two weeks without him, without his body against yours, him inside of you, had left you feeling hot and bothered.

He shifted towards you to get closer to you.

“Steve” You warned him. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he was giving you a cheeky smile. “You can’t sleep?”

“Don’t worry” He said pinching your cheek “Just jetlagged. It’ll come in a while”

You hummed to that. Throwing a leg over him. You propped yourself on your elbow when you felt, what could only be his erection, again your shin.

You smirked grabbing it in your hand stroking him through his boxers. He groaned out your name growing harder in your hand.

“Let me take care of you, daddy” You got up freeing his cock from the tight boxers.

“Shit” He cursed as you fondled and rubbed him in your hand. He particularly lost his mind when you grazed your thumb over his tip, smearing his precum to lube him up. “Do that again” He cried.

You did a couple of times before kneeling on your hands and knees to take him in your mouth. You sucked at his tip licking his slit while fondling his balls. Craning your neck to take one of them in your mouth sucking on it.

“Don’t tease” He demanded manoeuvring your head back to his dick.

With some research and practice you had become an expert at making him putty in your hands. You took his length in your mouth going as deep as you could. You still couldn’t completely swallow him.

He bunched up your hair creating a makeshift pony tail while you bobbed your head up and down on him. Making loud slurping noises. You were determined to take him as far down your throat as you could.

He was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He felt as if he could cum then and there. He tried distracting himself looking around the room. Only to be met with the silhouette of your ass peaking out of your nightshirt.

He groaned letting go of your hair to squeeze and fondle your cheeks. He brushed his fingers over your folds dipping them in. You were tight, tighter than you normally are. He could tell. You clenched on his fingers moaning around his dick. He had missed that feeling more than anything.

“Get over here” his voice raspy, commanding. He pulled at you dragging you to pull you just above his mouth.

You blushed at the awkward position. You had sat on his face a few times but never while you were sucking him. You were about to protest, you were trying to take care of him not the other way around, when you felt him lick a strip up your pussy.

You shuddered above him as he kept licking and pushing his tongue inside of you, fucking you with it. He pushed at your head. “Keep going”

You struggle to suck him or even stroke him, with him sucking harshly at your clit while playing with your pluckered hole.

You tried your best to keep from gagging as you stuffed him in your mouth and breathe through your nose.

“I’m going to come” you whined as he gently bit your clit “Come with me daddy. Come in my mouth” you plead.

You felt his grip on your ass get tighter as he pulled you in his tongue eating you out mercilessly. You cried out gushing around his mouth. You felt him release spurts of salty creamy cum in your mouth. You swallowed around him not wanting to waste one bit. You heaved trying to catch your breath as you took him out of your mouth.

Resting your head on his thigh tired from your orgasm. You bounced your fingers on his cock like a little trampoline. You giggled to yourself.

“What’s funny?” he asked smacking your ass his voice hoarse and tired.

“Nothing” You tried your best to muffle your laughs as you got off of him. Tucking him back in his boxers.

You wrapped your arm around his neck as he rested his head on your breast humming contently.

“Love you”

“Love you more” He replied on his way to a dreamless restful night after a long time.

***

You had never been a huge fan of Christmas. It was all just a capitalist corporate ploy to get people to buy useless crap.

You used to sulk in your bed being a bit jealous of everyone who got to have a merry christmas. Full of presents with people they love. You never thought you would get to experience it. Until now.

It was the first of December. You and Steve woke up early to buy a Christmas tree. It took a while to get one best suited for your apartment but you were happy with it. It was small and perfect for both of you.

You had bought some ornaments to decorate it. Unbeknownst to you Steve had got some more over a month ago. He was that excited about your first Christmas together.

Your feet were tucked into a warm fuzzy blanket while you sipped on your hot cocoa. It was a hard but rewarding task. You finally managed to get your tree up.

You had jokingly bought some red, white and blue themed balls. He rolled his eyes when he saw them but you knew he secretly loved them.

He plopped down beside you. Smiling at the tree then staring at you.

“What’s up?” you asked him.

“Well I had an idea”

“Uh-oh that’s never a good thin..”

“Since you’ve made my Christmas so happy” He interrupted you “I’m giving you twenty-five presents for twenty-five days of Christmas”

“Steve you don’t have to”

“I finally have a girl I can spoil. I’m sorry sweetheart but you can’t stop me” He waved you off. It was true there was no stopping him when he set his mind on something.

“Here’s uh... here’s the first one” he said bashfully handing you a paper bag.

You smiled at him. You didn’t have it in you to break his heart. You opened the bag pulling out a white dress. You got a good look at it once it was out. It was beautiful. Maybe the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen.

“This...”

“Yeah. I saw you looking at it the other day. You’ll look beautiful in it” He said as you inspected the material running your hands through the sheer net “It’s perfect actually. There’s a party. It’s a white christmas them? I’m not sure. I don’t understand half the things Tony comes up with.”

You had never met Tony or any of his teammates. He had talked about introducing you over Christmas. Which you were excited for until now. You weren’t one to wear make up or pretty dresses. Either you didn’t have the money for it or you didn’t have the time.

“I’d love to meet them” You finally spoke up. He would have to introduce someone like you to his amazing friends. “But this isn’t for me” You tried your best to keep your voice from cracking.

“Is it the wrong size?” He asked.

He remembered Clint telling him to never buy clothes for a woman. 'If it’s too big she’ll assume you think she’s fat. If it’s too small she’ll assume you want her to lose weight.’ He should’ve listened.

You chuckled at him blinking your tears away. “No it’s probably the right size. But it’s not for someone like me.”

“What do you mean?” he asked subtly pulling you into him to comfort you.

“It’s for beautiful girls. I know I know you think I’m beautiful” you shut him up before he could get a word out “But I’m not graceful or beautiful. Are you sure you want me to meet your friends?” you let out a humorless dry laugh.

“Yes I’m sure. You know why?” He asked to which you shook your head no “Because you’re the only one for me. You’re my best girl. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen”

“Steve” You whined covering your face. He always annoyed you with his gush of compliments and his love.

“You don’t have to wear that if you don’t like” He continued.

“Well I can’t say no now” You went back to looking at the dress. It was beautiful. You could pull it off. “Just so you know you’re the only one for me too” You pecked his lips your lips lingering close to his “Promise me this is forever?”

“I promise” He pulled you in to give you a proper kiss.

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pineapple-lover-boy · 3 years ago

Note

I love your headcanon about Dudley having magical kids!! I was wondering if you could elaborate a little more on you writing him w Cho?

Absolutely! When I first heard of this head canon I couldn’t believe it but now I love it.

First part:

Cho is confirmed to have a muggle husband after the series so that definitely helps with this:

I imagine that they meet while doing normal errands

It’s not too long after the war and Cho is trying to escape the Wizarding World for just a little bit

It’s been too traumatizing for her

When they meet I feel like they would immediately hit it off

We only see Dudley from Harry’s point of view but I believe he could be pretty suave with the ladies

He’s also got a lot of pride which can come off as confidence at first

What draws in Cho, though, is that he’s so muggle

Just by talking to him she can tell that he can’t be affiliated with the Wizarding World in any way (or at least she thinks)

Dudley by this point has changed since the books

Ever since the dementor attack he tries to be a better person so he never has people seeing him as what he saw that night

He’ll do little acts of kindness like buying some sweets for a child that couldn’t afford it, helping someone who’s fallen get up, and just genuine things that have Cho falling for him

Cho in no way endorses his eating habits but doesn’t discourage it

If they have a date where she’s the one cooking she’ll include many healthy foods cleverly hidden behind a tasty and appetizing look

Because of Cho’s past relationships I believe it would take a year for the relationship to at least be considered serious

Although she isn’t a blood supremacist, she still believes muggles are much more fragile than wizards

And in some ways they are

When Dudley comes back from a friendly boxing tournament she always fuses over his bruises and gets frantic when she sees some blood

Dudley never thought to ask why and Cho was glad for that, she wasn’t ready to tell

When meeting the parents…. oh boy

She appreciates how doting on Dudley they are and never gets tired of hearing his achievements that they are always boasting about

I do believe the Dursley’s are somewhat racist so they don’t warm up to Cho right away

But once they see her calm, polite, sweet, and generally well mannered nature they quickly decide that she is the best Dudley will ever get

Cho never suspects that Harry is related to them as there are no pictures around the house

Dudley will sometimes try to include mentions of a cousin in conversations of his childhood but Vernon and Petunia always brush him off by saying that his cousin was a “troubled boy”

Cho never questions this as she feels it must be a sensitive part of the family

By year two of their relationship they would be married

Dudley hasn’t learned of Cho’s magical nature yet

Much like any other half blood baring couple, Cho has to do magic in secret so her body doesn’t become overwhelmed with magic

It starts getting on her nerves as she’s afraid Dudley will walk in on her one day casting some type of spell or charm

She’ll start hinting at marriage but Dudley never gets it

She sometimes curses his pig headedness

She flat out asks him about it one day and Dudley is so surprised he starts choking on whatever pastry he was eating that day

No less than a week later are they engaged

Cho isn’t one for big crowds so Dudley agrees to have a small wedding with close relatives

He had been talking to Harry for a while but not enough to consider inviting him

He just felt too awkward

(When talking about it later though, Harry agreed and said it was fine)

After the wedding, their honeymoon was spent at their new home

It was then when he saw her PTSD nightmares

He held her close each night and asked if she wanted to talk

Each night she said no

It irritated Dudley to no end but he didn’t want to risk Cho feeling worse

Only a few months later was the announcement of their first daughter made

Cho had yet to tell Dudley that she was a witch and desperately hoped their child was a squib

She loved the Wizarding World but the trauma she got from seeing Cedric’s dead body and then seeing several children her age and even younger dying right in front of her-

It was too much for her to want to immediately go back to it

Once Daisy is born Cho regretted her hopes of the girl being a squib

She wanted to see her early forms of magic, her joy at being accepted to Hogwarts, she wanted her child to grow up a witch

Still, she didn’t tell Dudley

Although she loved him, she was afraid he wouldn’t accept her

When Daisy started showing signs of magic she tried to hide it as long as she could but Dudley eventually noticed

By this time baby Petunia was a toddler and although she showed no signs, it was bound to happen eventually

Without telling her, Dudley went and called his cousin, Harry

He told him of everything that was going on and Harry, whose children were only a year or two away from going to Hogwarts themselves, recognized what was going on and told he and his family to come over and visit so he could see it for himself

Not wanting to scare Cho, who he still thought was a muggle at this point, he told her that they were all going to take a trip to his cousins house

Cho knew something was up but she stayed quiet

During the car ride all she could muster up to say during her nervousness was a simple, “What’s your cousin’s name?”

“Harry.” He replied.

“I knew a Harry once.” She said quietly, not even realizing what she had spoken until it was too late.

There was too much tension in the car, so they stayed silent

When they pulled up to the house they could see dozens of children running around

“Thought he only had three.” Dudley lamented to himself.

When they got to the door, Ginny opened it

Her eyes widened immediately

“Cho Chang?” She said in disbelief.

“Come in, come in!” She shone her head and beckoned them inside, “Sorry for the mess. Harry and I are in charge of our nieces and nephews today.”

“Wait, are- are you saying we’re in Harry Potter’s house?”

Ginny laughed. “Who else would I have married? Besides we invited you to the wedding.”

Cho remembered, it was one year before she met Dudley

Dudley was beyond confused but when Harry walked in he was even more confused

Soon enough, everything settled down and was explained

Dudley was a bit irked that Cho had never told him of her magic ness but he wasn’t mad, much to Cho’s relief

It was then that he was told everything

When they were back at home, and the children were put to sleep, Cho told him everything

Of the Triwizard Tournament, of Cedric’s death, of all the deaths she’d witnessed during the Battle of Hogwarts

After years of holding in her years and trying to act like everything was fine, she finally started crying

She didn’t miss they crying from her Hogwarts days and she suddenly felt like that little girl who’s friends all walked away during her time of need

The girl who could barely focus on work to the point were she was let off for a few weeks

The girl who looked at the death of someone she loved too early

The next few days were hard on them

Whenever Cho apologized for crying out of nowhere Dudley would shut her down and said it was only natural

She’d bottled up so many feelings after the war in fear of people leaving her again

Now she felt like she didn’t have to worry

As the years go by, Daisy finally goes to Hogwarts and everyone is preparing for Petunia to be next

Cho is at home when she gets a call from Dudley

As much as he didn’t want to tell her this on a call, he couldn’t keep it in

“Cho, darling, I’m so sorry. I’m not completely sure of the word but Harry and I think that Petunia might be a squid- What? Oh! Sorry, a squib.”

Cho stops whatever she’s doing and feels her emotions take hold of her again

She remembered all those years ago when she wished her daughter to be a squib

That was for Daisy though

This couldn’t of happened because of her, right?

She becomes saddened at the sight of Petunia

For three years, she looks at her daughter with pity

She still as loving before, in fact even more

She wants to make her daughter feel as happy as she can before she realizes that she can’t be like her sister

When the letter is expected to arrive and it doesn’t, she’s fully prepared to coddle her crying child

But nothing changes

Petunia goes to muggle school, she keeps in touch with Daisy and Lily Luna, and is perfectly happy

She sighs in relief when she’s sure that it doesn’t affect Petunia in any way

Cho silently praises her daughter for being stronger than her

As more years go by and their girls grow up, the couple couldn’t be more than happier

Dudley loves when Cho does magic, staring at her in amazement despite living with magic when he was younger and having bad experiences with it

Cho loves how doting he is, whether it’s their children or her

There are some problems that they needed to fix but that doesn’t matter now as they grow old with each other

Such an unlikely couple that were surprisingly perfect for each other

#harry potter series #harry potter headcanon #harry potter #dudley dursley #cho chang #wizarding world #post wizarding war #post second wizarding war #19 years later #petunia dursley #vernon dursley

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bigstabbymen · 4 years ago

Text

Special.

NSFW

(TW: noncon, abuse, kidnapping I guess? Kind of projecting past abusers into Bo so.)

Carly and her friends brought along a pity invite. AU where none of them make it. The brothers take a liking to their friend though.

Mary Cecilia Dorset had no real friends, and hardly any family to speak of, when she first arrived in Ambrose. Carly, a loose friend from high school had invited her along to go camping with her, her boyfriend, and their friends. Mary knew that none of them truly desired to be friends with her, but just by being her she provided a very special schadenfreude that they all enjoyed. While Carly wasn’t unkind to her, Mary knew she knew how her friends would react to her being invited. Mary was ill, born wrong, “different” from the time she was a toddler and everyone knew it. When the car broke down mysteriously and they had to make their way to the gas station in Ambrose, she was happy for the chance to get away from them. The house of wax seemed like the perfect place to hide for a while, and though it was closed, her curiosity lead her inside. What a fine place of beautiful things, a beauty she knew her ‘friends’ would never comprehend or properly respect. Just for the hour, this would be her sanctuary, a special place just for her. Abandoned and quiet, it was the perfect place to sing. Since Mary had been a young child she had sung to herself to keep herself company, and the sound of her voice echoed around the museum. The sound traveled, and was heard by someone far beneath her in the bowels of the museum. Vincent Sinclair was confused, startled that someone was in the museum but, intrigued just as well. When he quietly made his way up to see her, he gasped to himself. What a beautiful girl, what a beautiful sculpture she would make, he thought. Her hair was chestnut brown and down to her waist, she wore a sweater almost as bulky as his own and a black skirt, black tights, black shoes. Her eyes were closed as she sang, and Vincent felt conflicted. If he made a sculpture of her he would never hear her sing again, maybe he could record her singing and play it always beside her sculpture, maybe he would keep it in the basement with him or in his room, maybe he could hide her from Bo and keep her all to himself, something for him and only him. His stomach churned. It was such an odd feeling, a sudden pang of empathy sharp as a needle in his heart. The desire not to hurt this creature, to keep her all to him, but alive and warm and moving and singing.

Though, Bo would never allow Vincent any beautiful thing all to himself.

Months had come and gone. All of Mary’s friends sat posed in perfect positions in the house of wax, winter came to Ambrose, and then Spring, and now under the harsh summer sun Mary stood outside of the Sinclair house in a sundress that had belonged to Trudy. Bo and Vincent both were very fond of dressing her in their mother’s old clothes, and as she hadn’t prepared to be in Ambrose longer than a few hours, she was happy for the new wardrobe. For the majority of her time here Vincent had tried his best to shield her from Bo, who mocked him incessantly for it. Vincent sketched her endlessly, sculpted her in various positions, filmed her whenever he could. So much of his workplace in the basement was full of her. He took pride in his little collection of Mary memorabilia that Bo would never have. Though eventually, Mary’s old life slipped away somewhere in the crevices of her brain and she became close to all three of the brothers Sinclair in one way or the other.

A few times a week she rode along with Lester when he went out to collect his dead treasures. He showered and put on fresh clothes for the occasion every single time, and Mary enjoyed his company. She wondered if he prettied himself up for her because she was a woman or because she was always wearing his mother’s clothes, her perfume, reminding all three of the brothers of her and making their desperate attachment to her all the more intense. Over her sundress she wore a pocketed apron, she carried a basket with her and she always took her shoes off as soon as she and Lester were away from Ambrose, in the wilderness together as free as children.

“Hey, beautiful.” Lester said as she approached. He was leaning against his truck and unabashedly staring at her chest.

“Good morning Lester.” she said and he smiled his crooked, toothy grin at her.

“Ready?” he asked as he opened the passenger door for her.

“Absolutely.”

Lester and Mary would go out to the woods, while he searched for any dead creature he could get his dirty hands on she searched for herbs, flowers, grasses and the like she used to make medicines, berries and mushrooms she used to cook. When her basket and the pockets of her apron were full she waited for Lester at his truck. Eventually he came around, grumbling to himself.

“Nothin’ round here. Need to get out to the highway, gonna get you home before noon or I reckon’ Bo’ll skin me.” he said, spitting. He seemed so grumpy and frustrated that Mary couldn’t help but pity him.

“Do you want a kiss?” she asked and he smiled shyly, looking at the ground as his cheeks flushed.

“Awh dang, course’ I do.” he said. Mary set her basket down and wrapped her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him and resting his forehead against hers. His breath smelled of whiskey even this early in the morning and his erection was very apparent through his jeans as he pressed himself against her. She kissed him gently and he kissed her back desperately, it was obvious he wanted more than just a kiss, but both of them knew Bo wouldn’t be happy about it. And for that matter, neither would Vincent. Even if all of them had taken turns with her at some point of the other, she could love none of them as much as she loved Vincent. She broke the kiss and he didn’t force himself on her, Lester never did. They rode back to Ambrose mostly in silence.

Mary slipped into the house quietly, hoping not to alert Bo for as long as she could but it seemed he was out somewhere, or maybe at the gas station. Either way she was happy to be without him for the time being. The boys had given her their parents old room which she had mostly just used as a space to make tinctures and dry herbs, most nights she slept in Vincent’s bed with him, even if Bo had his way with her earlier, she would always slip away when he was finally asleep. None of the brothers could sleep well, and relied on her medicine to put them out, though she always gave Bo more than necessary.

As evening fell, Mary made her way to Vincent’s room, locking the door behind her as she entered. She knew Bo could unlock it quickly but, at least this way they would hear him coming. Vincent stood up from his desk, closing his sketchbook quickly.

“What were you drawing?” she asked kindly and he shrugged. He didn’t stop her as she made her way closer to him, opening his sketchbook and flipping through it. Image after image after image of her. Making tea in the kitchen, picking flowers, smiling, crying. Somehow he made her look beautiful.

“You can always ask me if you want me to pose for you.” She said.

“I prefer it this way.” he said quietly.

“I brought you medicine.” Mary said, plucking a small black bottle from her pocket.

“You don’t have to wear your mask around me if you don’t want to.” she said softly and he shuffled a bit uncomfortably.

“May I?” she asked as she reached for his face. He flinched, but didn’t stop her from removing it. She set it aside on his desk and pushed his hair out of his face.

“There. That’s better isn’t it.” she cooed. The way she could look at him and smile so genuinely made his heart beat so fast he thought it would explode. She ran her fingers over his face and stood on her toes to kiss both of his cheeks. His breath hitched and he put his hands on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry!” she said, knowing he was sensitive about being touched but unable to resist.

“Is this too much?”

“No. I need to kiss you.” he said breathlessly, kissing her as awkwardly as he always did. Inexperienced and innocent, but equally determined and rough. He tangled his fingers into her hair and pressed his body against hers, he pressed himself against her so hard it was like he hoped they would melt together into one person. When he finally broke the kiss to catch his breath Mary took his hand and lead him over to his bed. She began to undress him, slowly, giving him every chance to stop her if he needed to. He didn’t. He let her remove his sweater, his pants. She ran her fingers over his chest, over the trail of hair that lead down into his underwear. He grabbed her hands and pushed her down, easily pinning both of her wrists above her head in one hand. With his other hand he pushed up her dress, though she was wearing nothing beneath it. He inhaled sharply at the sight of her, her breasts, her hard nipples, her cunt..

Mary spread her legs for him and he groaned needily, his erection straining against his underwear. He tentatively reached out, slipping two of his calloused fingers into her and curling them as she had shown him before. She gasped and closed her eyes, arching her back and he bent down to take one of her nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, trying to savor every small detail of her body. He was ashamed of how many times he had pleasured himself against the sculptures he made in her image, crudely grinding his cock against the wax, taking wax nipples into his mouth, nothing compared to the real thing. Warm, soft flesh. He couldn’t wait any longer, he slid his fingers out of her and freed his cock, unceremoniously ramming it into her and releasing her wrists to hold her closely. He kissed her deeply between guttural moans, forcing his tongue into her mouth, holding onto her so tightly it was painful as he thrusted into her haphazardly, eager to be as deep inside of her as possible. Mary held him just as tightly, rubbing his back, cupping his face, stroking both of his cheeks affectionately.

“I adore you.” she said softly and his eyes rolled back as he climaxed.

Vincent didn’t want to pull out, he wanted to stay connected to Mary forever. He was nearly smothering her he was holding her to tight, pressing her head against his chest. His heart was pounding and he was still breathing heavily.

“Darling, I need to give you your medicine.” Mary said, moving his hair out of the way so she could kiss his cheek. He smiled slightly and leaned down to kiss her.

“I love you. I love you very much.” he said between kisses.

“Will you stay with me all night? Can we stay together every night, please?” he asked.

“I’m sorry if you’re tired now, or if it hurts, but sometimes could we sleep like this?”

Mary had never heard him say so much at once, he seemed so happy.

“I can try.” Mary said and Vincent happily kissed her again before finally rolling off of her.

Mary sat up and reached over to where the tincture bottle had fallen. Vincent kept a hand on her, unwilling to stop touching her for even a moment.

She straddled him, sitting on his broad chest. He bit his lip and placed his hands on her thighs, eagerly hoping to fuck her again. Instead she took the dropper from the bottle and placed a hand under his chin, opening his mouth. He lifted his tongue, allowing her to drop the bitter liquid under it. While the medicine helped, Mary’s hands stroking his hair and her soft singing were the only things to truly lull him into a restful sleep. Though, he was not the only one who required her attention in the evenings.

Bo’s footsteps were loud, sounding his arrival long before he reached Vincent’s door. Vincent grabbed Mary like he meant to hide her for a moment but she scrambled out of his grip, putting her dress back on as Bo jiggled the handle.

“Mary? You in here?” he shouted. She unlocked the door and stepped out, shutting it behind her, wanting to put space between Bo and Vincent lest he get jealous and take it out on his twin.

“Oh, ain’t this just somethin’ special.” he smirked down at her.

“How long have you been fuckin’ my brother then? Both of em?” he asked, towering over her, but he started laughing at her before she could respond.

“Ah hell. Guess we all get a turn with the only pussy in town. Don’t want you to go forgettin’ who you belong to though.” He said. He grabbed the bottle from her hand and took a swig from it, grabbing her face in his other hand and smashing his lips against hers. The bitter taste of alcohol and herbs on his lips was offensively strong as he bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

“You, are mine. This-” he said, releasing her face to grab her groin just as hard.

“Is mine. Say your goodnights to Vincent, I’ll be in my room. Don’t make me wait.” he said, pushing her hard into Vincent’s door and throwing the bottle at her. She hit her head against the door so hard she saw stars. As his footfalls faded Vincent finally came out, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m such a coward.” He was crying, a mess of tears and mucus, his hair sticking to his face.

“Couldn’t protect you, he’s gonna hurt you more.” he mumbled. Of all the people he had seen Bo hurt, all the people he had hurt for Bo, this was too much. Not Mary, not his Mary.

“It’ll be alright Vinny.” she said, smiling at him though her lips were covered in blood.

“I have to go see him, you know I have to. But you lay down, and as soon as he’s asleep I’ll come right back to you.” she said. Vincent whimpered pitifully and buried his face into her hair. She hugged him, rubbing his back comfortingly.

“Go on now, I’ll be back.” she said. Vincent clung onto her dress as she stood and it broke Mary’s heart to pull herself away from him and make her way to Bo’s room.

Bo sat in his armchair, already naked, hazy-eyed from the medicine. He patted his thigh wordlessly and Mary slid out of her dress, sitting on his lap hesitantly. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her head where she had hit the door and kissing her forehead.

“I’m sorry.” he said quietly, forcing her to look at him.

“You know I don’t wanna have to hurt you, right? You know I love you, don’t you?” he asked, his tone so sweet and gentle.

“I know you don’t wanna hurt me. And I know you love me.” she said. He handled her roughly like she was a doll, forcing her to straddle him and lining up his cock with her entrance.

“You love me too don’t you?” he asked, looking up at her with innocent, pleading eyes.

“I love you, Bo.” she lied. He smirked and forced her down onto his cock, grabbing her so tight she felt like he could break her bones with his bare hands.

“Of course you do, and you love this cock don’t you?” he asked, forcing her up and down on him. Mary always felt like she was slipping far away when he did this to her, she was thinking of Vincent. His hand across her face snapped her out of it.

“Nope, you’re not going anywhere, you’re gonna look me in the eye and tell me how much you love me, how much you love gettin’ fucked by me understand?” he yelled. She grit her teeth, her breasts bouncing as he continued fucking her, but she complied. If not for her sake, for Vincent’s.

Bo always fell asleep quickly after and Mary left as quietly as she could, showering before she went back to Vincent. He was clinging on to consciousness at the edge of sleep, waiting for her. As soon as she got close enough he grabbed her and pulled her to him, holding onto her the way a child does to their favorite stuffed animal.

“I love you Vinny.” she said softly, stroking his hair the way his mother used to.

“I love you too.” he said, too tired to cry again, though he wanted to.

“I think you’re the only person left in the world who loves me.” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Mary continued to stroke him as she started to sing, gentle lullabies from far away lands that always lead him to fields of flowers within his dreams.

#vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #bo sinclair #house of wax #mine #selfship #selfshipping #self ship #self shipping #f/o #herbalism is important to me irl and i love making tinctures soooo i make medicine for these poor boys #anyway this helped me cope with the bad feelings tonight.

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