#and then i made shepherd pie because why. flipping. not.

[sergeantwoods]

cryibg help me i cant believe i made that

AHHHHHHHJH HELP ME

[thedisneychef]

What To Do With Leftover Mashed Potatoes Recipe

Leftover mashed potatoes are a common problem in many households. But don't worry - there's no need to let them go to waste! With just a few extra ingredients, you can create delicious and nutritious meals out of those leftover spuds. This article will provide some amazing recipes that make the most of your remaining mashed potatoes. So if you're stuck for ideas on what to do with all your leftovers, read on and get inspired! Potato Pancakes I love having leftover mashed potatoes, because they open up so many possibilities! One of my favorite recipes to make with them is potato pancakes. All you need is a bowl of mashed potatoes and some eggs – it's that simple! I usually add in some grated cheese for extra flavor, but this step can be skipped if desired. To begin making the potato pancakes, all you have to do is mix the ingredients together until everything is evenly distributed. Then start scooping spoonfuls out onto a hot skillet or pan with melted butter over medium heat. Fry each side until it's golden brown before flipping it over. Once both sides are cooked through, remove from the heat and serve warm. These delicious little morsels go great as a snack on their own or served alongside your favorite breakfast foods like bacon and eggs. You could even get creative and shape them into waffles or croquettes instead of traditional pancakes! No matter how you prepare them, these tasty treats will surely satisfy your cravings. Shepherd's Pie I love having leftover mashed potatoes to make Shepherd's Pie. It's great because you just need a few ingredients like ground beef, carrots, onions, frozen peas and cheese. To prepare it, brown the beef, add the vegetables and seasonings, then layer the beef mixture and mashed potatoes in a baking dish. Bake it until it's lightly browned and bubbly. I like to serve it with a side of steamed broccoli and a salad. It's great for dinner and makes for a delicious leftovers lunch. Ingredients When it comes to making Shepherd's Pie, the star of the show is often the mashed potatoes. It can be easy to make too much, so what do you do with any leftovers? Here are some ideas for using up your leftover mashed potatoes! One great way to use them is by storing them in an air-tight container or jar in the fridge. This keeps them fresh and makes sure they don't go off before you have a chance to use them. You could also freeze them in portions if you want to save time when cooking later on. There are lots of different types of potato varieties that work well for mashing, such as Yukon Golds, Russets and even Sweet Potatoes - all of which will taste delicious after being made into a Shepherd's Pie topping. It's worth experimenting with flavors too - adding spices like rosemary or chives can really bring out their flavor and add some zing. With these simple tips, you're guaranteed never to waste your leftover mashed potatoes again! Preparation When it comes to preparing Shepherd's Pie, the key is meal planning and storage. Before you start cooking, take a look at your fridge and cupboards - do you have all the ingredients? If not, make sure you pick up everything you need before starting. Once that's done, think about how much of each ingredient you'll need so that there aren't any leftovers. It can be an easy dish to make too much of, which is why having good storage tips are essential! To save time later on when cooking other dishes, consider freezing your leftover mashed potatoes in portions or storing them in an air-tight container or jar in the fridge. With these simple steps and a bit of pre-planning, you're guaranteed to get creative with your meals without worrying about wasting food. Serving Ideas Once you've got your Shepherd's Pie all cooked up, it's time to think about how you want to serve it. If you feel like being creative, why not try adding a side of baked fries or scalloped potatoes? It'll give the dish an extra kick and is sure to impress anyone around the dining table. And if that wasn't enough, you can also top off your meal with some freshly chopped herbs or a sprinkle of cheese - it's totally up to you! No matter what route you go down, one thing's for certain: this hearty comfort food will be the star of the show! Grilled Cheese And Mashed Potato Sandwich I absolutely love using leftover mashed potatoes to make this delicious Grilled Cheese and Mashed Potato Sandwich! It's an amazing mix of crunchy and creamy textures, with just the right amount of melted cheese. Plus, it takes no time at all to put together – making it a great go-to meal for busy days. If you have more leftovers than sandwiches can handle, don't worry – there are still plenty of options. Baked casserole dishes like shepherd's pie or tuna casseroles are always comforting and easy to throw together. Or why not fry up some croquettes? All you need is a bit of mashed potato, eggs, flour and seasoning – plus any extra ingredients you fancy! No matter what your plans are for those leftover mashed potatoes, they're sure to be transformed into something extraordinary! Loaded Potato Skins I'm sure I'm not the only one who loves mashed potatoes, and unfortunately we often have leftovers. So what do you do with them? Well, why not turn your leftover mashed potatoes into loaded potato skins! This is a great way to use up those extra spuds while also creating an impressive dish that's full of flavor. To make this delicious side dish, first preheat your oven to 375°F. Then take four large russet potatoes and slice them in half lengthwise before scooping out the insides leaving about 1/4 inch thick walls on each skin. Place these shells onto a greased baking sheet and bake for 15 minutes until they are crisp enough to hold their shape when filled. Once cooked, spoon in some of your leftover mashed potatoes along with plenty of casserole toppings like cheese, bacon bits, chives or whatever else takes your fancy. Pop back in the oven for 20-25 more minutes until everything is nice and hot and bubbly then serve piping hot as a tasty snack or side dish - Yum! Mashed Potato Soup Have you ever wondered what to do with those leftover mashed potatoes? Well, I'm here to tell you that there are plenty of delicious options! From a simple mashed potato dip to an indulgent potato casserole, the possibilities are endless. Let's explore some of these recipes and see how we can use up our leftovers! The first recipe I want to share is my favorite: Mashed Potato Dip. This dish takes only 10 minutes to prepare and is sure to be a crowd-pleaser at any gathering. All you need are some cream cheese, sour cream, diced chives, garlic powder, salt, pepper, bacon bits (optional) and your leftover mashed potatoes. Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl until smooth and creamy – it’s that easy! Serve this tasty dip with crackers or chips for extra crunch. Next on the list is a hearty potato casserole. Start by preheating your oven to 350°F (175°C). In a large skillet over medium heat cook 1/2 cup chopped onions in 2 tablespoons butter until translucent; add 1 cup cooked broccoli florets and mix through before taking off the heat. Add 2 cups of mashed potatoes together with 3/4 cup shredded cheese (cheddar or mozzarella work great), 1/3 cup milk, 1 teaspoon dried oregano leaves and season with salt & pepper as desired. Transfer mixture into greased baking dish and top with remaining shredded cheese before baking for 30 minutes or until golden brown on top. Enjoy your deliciously cheesy potato casserole warm from the oven! No matter which option you choose, both dishes will make great use of those leftover mashed potatoes while still being packed full of flavor! So don't let them go to waste - whip up one of these recipes today and enjoy every last bite! Frequently Asked Questions How Long Can Mashed Potatoes Be Stored In The Refrigerator? Storing mashed potatoes in the refrigerator is a great way to extend their shelf life and prevent food waste. Generally, you can store them for up to four days if they are properly sealed and stored in an airtight container. If you take into consideration food safety guidelines, such as making sure your mashed potatoes have been cooled before storing in the fridge, then you can rest assured that they will last longer. For maximum freshness, it's best to use up any leftover mashed potatoes within two or three days of cooking them. What Are The Nutritional Benefits Of Mashed Potatoes? Mashed potatoes are a delicious side dish packed with nutritional benefits. They're full of starch, which is an important source of energy for your body. When eaten in moderation, mashed potatoes can also be part of a healthy diet – just remember to pay attention to portion size! One serving of mashed potatoes contains about 40% of the daily recommended value for vitamin C and B6. Additionally, it's a good source of potassium, iron, and magnesium too. Can Mashed Potatoes Be Reheated Safely? Yes, mashed potatoes can be safely reheated! The best way to do it is in the oven or microwave. You may want to add some additional seasonings when you heat them up again, like butter and herbs, for extra flavor. When freezing leftover mashed potatoes, make sure they’re stored in an airtight container so they don’t absorb any odd flavors from your freezer. Reheating frozen mashed potatoes requires a bit more time than fresh ones – just pop them in the oven until they are heated through. What Other Ingredients Can I Add To Mashed Potatoes To Make Them More Flavorful? Mashed potatoes are a delicious comfort food, but they can be easily made more flavorful with the addition of some simple ingredients. To give your mashed potatoes an extra kick, try adding herbs like thyme or rosemary, bacon, onions, garlic and cheese. You could also stir in some butter, sour cream, salt and pepper for even more depth of flavor. Vegetables such as peas or carrots work great too! Experiment with different combinations to find what fits your taste best! Are Mashed Potatoes Suitable For A Vegan Diet? Yes, mashed potatoes are suitable for vegan diets! If you're looking to make a plant based version of your favorite side dish, all you need to do is use dairy free substitutes instead of cow's milk and butter. You can opt for non-dairy milks such as oat or almond milk, along with non-dairy margarine or coconut oil. With these simple swaps, you'll have a delicious vegan friendly meal that everyone can enjoy. Conclusion It's great to have leftover mashed potatoes, but what do you do with them? The good news is that there are lots of options. You can enjoy a nutritious snack or meal by simply reheating the potatoes and adding ingredients like herbs, cheeses or vegetables. Or you can mix in some vegan substitutes such as tofu crumbles or plant-based cheese for even more flavor. Whatever you choose, your leftover mashed potatoes will be transformed into something delicious! So go ahead and get creative - turn those leftovers into something special that everyone will love! With just a few extra steps, you'll be able to make use of those mashed potatoes in no time at all. Enjoy! Read the full article

[marueonmain]

Not Risking You ~ WillNE

Summary: Y/N is not aware just how much she and Will have in common. Will takes care of slightly injured Y/N.

Pairing: willne x reader

Warning: Fainting.

Word Count: 1.2k

Everyone is unique; that is not to mean everyone is special, but more literally, everyone is unique in at least some small aspect or another. Some have wisdom teeth, while others do not. Some have a normal temperature higher than the average thirty-seven degrees, while others run colder. And Y/N? Well, Y/N had an irregular heartbeat and lost consciousness if it spiked too high too quickly.

But it did not happen a lot. She could count on one hand – two hands if she were honest – the number of times it had happened in her adult life. So why bother telling anyone about her condition? If it was unlikely to happen, then it was not like anyone needed to know, right? Right?

It was early afternoon, and Y/N was late to the shooting of the second Eboys bake off. Y/N slipped into the large room, hugging the wall until she found a clear enough spot for herself. While getting her camera from its case and screwing on the correct lens, she thought she could feel eyes on her, but everyone was focused on the four boys at the front of the room when she looked up.

Y/N got to work as the sole photographer on the shoot – taking still shots for the thumbnail and, far more important, for promos on the boys’ individual social media and the group channel accounts. Everything was going fine; the video was not exactly a bake off as all the production emails she received had implied – it was a cook off. James again assigned the meals: chicken tikka masala for George, a shepherd's pie for Alex, toad in the hole for Will, and for himself, a traditional full English breakfast.

It was not a surprise to anyone that after the fiasco with the jam tart, Alex was given extra help for his meal in the shape of pre-made mashed potatoes. He picked up a knife to start chopping the carrots and onions, but before attempting a single cut, he looked out toward the cameras.

Alex asked, “Can someone cut this? It’ll take me ages.”

The other boys continued working on their own meals; there were no objections to Alex having made the request nor shouting that he was trying to cheat.

“I could,” Y/N piped up; she did not consider herself the speediest chef in the world but thought anyone would probably be faster than the inexperienced cook. Setting her camera back in its case, Y/N moved behind the counters at the front of the room, washed her hands, and took the knife from Alex.

About five slices into the first onion, she misplaced her hand and dragged the knife across her finger. Blood sprung from the cut and mixed with the small amount of remaining water on her hand to create an effect like she was bleeding more than she was. Y/N paled and stilled.

And it was not the blood – she was not afraid of blood. It was the accident's unexpectedness; the sudden onset sting of a cut splashed with onion juice sent her heart rate jumping. There was just a millisecond of wooziness before she lost consciousness.

~

Will had been stunting all afternoon in hopes of attracting the attention of the recently hired photographer. His posture was impeccable as he pushed his shoulders down and his chest out to appear more muscular. Not once did Will allow himself to slip into his resting face, as he plastered on his most handsome smile the entire shoot. He even attempted a spatula flip – which did not end as he planned.

A dream-like haze clouded his head, and weakness overtook his limbs each time his eyes caught hers. Like many men, he did not think he had a specific type; he did not consider himself picky in most situations. Women were women. If he could get with one that was good enough for him. But Y/N. Sweet Y/N, she was his type; she was everything he did not know he looked for in a woman. And it was…wow.

Therefore, Will was extremely jealous of Alex when Y/N stepped out from behind the camera to assist the shorter man. Will was upset that he had not thought to ask for help – that could have been him standing shoulder to shoulder with Y/N. Amidst his anger, Will heard Alex ask, “Are you ok?”

Will looked up from the sizzling sausages in his pan just in time to see Y/N drop quickly and heavily with her whole weight. Stuck in shock, no one moved – no one except Will. It was not even three seconds, and he was crashing to the floor himself to kneel at her side. Y/N was again conscious, that much was clear as, despite her closed eyes, a weak groan escaped her lips and her head rocked toward Will. All his experience with fainting, Will had never been on the other side, and it was terrifying. Y/N was not his, but he was scared like she was; he was hurt like he failed her in not protecting her from something he did not understand or even know about before that single fear-filled moment. 

Around the fallen pair were both whispered and raised voices expressing shock and confusion. Someone mentioned calling 999 until James commanded, “Hold on. Will, what do we do?” 

“Give me a minute,” Will replied, not looking up. 

Y/N was conscious but not fully awake. It was uncomfortable, and Will could not help feeling like a bit of a creep, but he knew what people had done to wake him up from his fainting episodes in the past. He reached a hand towards Y/N, apologized in his head, and began rubbing a circular pattern on her sternum. It had hurt (in the best sense) when other people did it to him, so he was not alarmed but actually relieved when Y/N let out a hissing groan at the contact. He spoke to her in a soft voice.

“It’s alright, Y/N. You just gotta wake up. All you gotta do is open your eyes. Can you do that?” Will bit his lip, contemplating his next move, before adding, “Open your eyes Y/N, please, for me?”

After about ten seconds, Y/N’s eyes fluttered open then closed. She pulled her arm up and covered her eyes. “Everyone is looking at me.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s ok.” Y/N moved to push herself up to a sitting position. “I’m alright, really.”

Will stopped Y/N from getting more than a few centimetres off the ground. He pushed her back down with gentle force. “No. Don’t jump up because you’re embarrassed about having attention on you. I’ll tell everyone to leave – I will – just don’t push yourself. I’m going to get you water and you’re going to drink as much as you need and we’re going to stay here as long as you need. I’m not risking you.”

Y/N felt her heartstrings being struck with each word out of his mouth, and as her eyes focused on Will, she thought she never before felt so understood. She never before felt so calm and confident being basked in the full attention of another. It was nice. It was something she wanted to get used to.

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

To the anon who requested the school prompts; I attempted to write something about a parent-teacher meeting, but I couldn’t come up with a believable way for both Freddie and Jim to attend, given that Freddie would draw way too much attention. I hope you don’t mind if I skip that one. Here’s your request for Freddie picking up Khaleel from school!

Part 36 of Jimercury Kid series

‘Fucking vultures.’ Freddie muttered under his breath, as he sat with Kashmira in her car and observed the small group of journalists who had gathered at the corner of the street opposite Khaleel’s school.

They always hung around there, holding out hope that the little boy might walk through the gates, and they would finally be able to snap a picture of his face to put on the front page of their shitty tabloids. But they were wasting their time. Special arrangements had been made to ensure that Khaleel always exited the school from the back of the building, where Jim or Terry would be waiting to pick him up. By the time the vermin from News of the World had set up their cameras, their target was long gone.

The school run was something that Freddie had always longed to be involved in. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he just couldn’t help it. He wanted to be able to sit in the car and wait for his little boy to come bouncing through the back doors and into his arms. He wanted to help Khaleel put his seatbelt on and laugh when the child insisted he was a big boy and could do it himself. He wanted to sit in the passenger seat, Khaleel’s bookbag and lunchbox balanced on his lap while his bijou excitedly chatted away about what he got up to in class that day, while Jim turned on the radio and made faces at their son through the rear-view mirror.

He wanted to do what every other parent did. But he couldn’t, because he knew wherever he went the paparazzi would be hot on his tail. All sorts of rumours were still circulating in the press about Kenny’s origins. Some still believed he was the secret lovechild of Freddie and Mary, others reported that he was the result of a one-night stand with a fan and perhaps the worst was a statement made by an anonymous “inside source,” who claimed Freddie had purchased him from the Middle East for over fifty million Indian rupees.

He had resigned himself to the reality that there were some things in Khaleel’s life that he would just have to miss out on. Like end-of-year plays, and parent-teacher meetings, and taking the boy to and from school.

That was until Kash had came up with a rather genius idea.

Freddie’s private car would be easily noticed by the paparazzi. But hers wouldn’t.

‘There he goes.’ Freddie said as the Volvo in front of them pulled away from the pavement and began driving towards the back entrance of the school. ‘Be ready, Kash.’

‘Feels like bloody Mission Impossible.’ Kash laughed, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. ‘I don’t know how you put up with this every day. Why didn’t you just save yourself the trouble and stick to painting?’

Freddie chuckled despite himself. ‘Sometimes I wonder.’

He was glad they could still have conversations like this. They had briefly fallen out of contact after the whole ordeal with social services, but Freddie quickly realised that Kashmira wasn’t the one at fault and she had proved her loyalty to him by telling the truth. Even if they weren’t children anymore, defying their parents was no easy feat and poor Kash was withstanding the worst of the fallout.

‘How are they?’ Freddie asked quietly, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear him. But he should have known better; nothing got past his sister.

‘Not good.’ She replied, still looking out towards the road. ‘They keep asking after you, wanting to know if you’re alright. They ask about Khaleel a lot as well. I never know what to say.’

Freddie felt his jaw clench instinctively. ‘Tell them the truth. It’s been two years and he still has nightmares about what happened. He’s still scared to be left alone and can’t stand to be away from us for too long. It was months before he would go into school without clinging to Jim and begging him not to leave. Dr Atkinson says it may affect him for the rest of his life. You tell them that next time they have the nerve to ask you how Khaleel is doing.’

Kash sighed, glancing down at her hands which were gripping the steering wheel. ‘They really regret what they did, Freddie.’

Freddie rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t start, Kash. If you expect me to forgive them-’

‘No, I don’t.’ His sister cut in, her voice eerily calm. ‘If they had done that to Nathalie and Jamal, I wouldn’t forgive them either. I’m not questioning your decision. I just…’ her hands tightened around the wheel a moment as she lost herself in thought, ‘…I need you to know that they’re truly sorry. I know their apologies mean nothing at this point, but they’re not trying to justify their decisions anymore. They’ve accepted that they did a terrible thing and brought everything that’s happened upon themselves. They’re not asking for forgiveness; they just need you to know that they realise they were wrong.’

Freddie hadn’t anticipated such an answer. He was dumbstruck for a moment, tongue retreating behind his teeth as he allowed her words to sink in. As much as he would deny it, there was still a part of him that longed for the company of his mother and father again; he still found himself lingering by the phone on occasion, half hoping they might call or listening for the buzz of the intercom in case they decided to drop by. Knowing that they were truly sorry didn’t make the pain go away but it did give him an odd sense of comfort.

Before he could respond, he saw the Volvo pulling out onto the road ahead, slowly turning the corner until it was out of sight.

‘Here we go.’ A grin spread across Kash’s face as she belted herself in. ‘Keep your head down.’

Freddie ducked out of view as they passed the huddle of reporters, raising his hand to flip them off before sitting up straight in his seat while Kash cackled like a hyena. They drove up the street and turned the corner where the Volvo was sitting waiting for them.

‘Thank you, Kash.’ Freddie said gently, knowing they only had a limited amount of time before the rest of the students came pouring out onto the street. The last thing he needed was to be chased by a gang of schoolchildren at his age. ‘For this, and for telling me how Mama and Papa are. I appreciate it.’

Kashmira smiled at him, though it looked rather strained. ‘You’re welcome.’ Then she added, almost nervously. ‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Yes.’ Freddie replied, voice almost catching in his throat. ‘I know. I love you too.’

He opened the car door and went to step out, glancing over at the Volvo where Khaleel was sitting in the backseat, bouncing excitedly at the sight of his Baba. Freddie hesitated a moment, before turning to Kash again. ‘Why don’t you and Roger come over for dinner tonight? Bring the kids with you?’

Kashmira’s dark eyes batted in surprise, but she didn’t look displeased. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Jim’s making shepherd's pie tonight and he always makes too much, so…’ He shrugged in a rather lukewarm effort to display indifference, when in fact his heart was hammering painfully. To his relief, Kash smiled.

‘That sounds perfect. I’d love to come.’

‘About six ’clock?’

‘We’ll be there.’

Freddie nodded, the tightness in his chest finally ceasing to be. He wandered if he should embrace her, but decided he wasn’t quite ready for that step and simply said, ‘see you later,’ before shutting the door and making his way over to the Volvo.

‘Baba!’ Khaleel cried as soon as Freddie was near, and he rolled his window down so Freddie could poke his head through and start covering him in kisses. ‘You came, you came!’

‘Yes, I did!’ Freddie blew a raspberry into the child’s neck, making him squeal. ‘We better take you home and get your homework finished – Auntie Kash and your cousins are coming over for dinner.’

Khaleel’s blue-green eyes went wide with joy. ‘Are Dādī and Dādā coming too?’

Freddie’s smile disappeared and he briefly made eye contact with Jim, before saying, ‘I’m sorry, darling. Dādī and Dādā are very busy.’

Khaleel crossed his arms and pouted, ‘they’re always busy.’

‘I know…’ That familiar tightness returned to Freddie's chest, squeezing until it almost hurt to breathe. ‘But let’s not think about that now. Daddy’s making shepherd’s pie, and if you finish your homework on time, you can help him stir the pot.’

This seemed to put the boy in good spirits again and he spent the majority of the car ride chatting away to Freddie about his day as Jim drove them home, careful to keep themselves scarce from any prying eyes. When Khaleel eventually trailed off and turned his attention to the contents of his bookbag, Jim glanced at his husband in the passenger seat and murmured, ‘are you sure you’re okay having Kash over tonight?’

Freddie took a deep breath, staring out the window at the people passing by, not really caring if he was recognised. ‘I can hardly go about the rest of my life pretending she doesn’t exist.’

When this didn’t earn the chuckle he had anticipated, he sighed. ‘None of this is Kash's fault. I know she could have told me sooner about Mama and Papa calling social services, but what matters is that she did tell me. She chose me over them, which must have been the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. I’ve already lost most of my family, I don’t need to lose anymore. It's time to make peace.’

Jim nodded wordlessly, reaching over and gently grasping Freddie’s hand. ‘I’m really proud of you, sweetheart.’

Freddie lifted the Irishman's hand to kiss his knuckles. ‘Thank God somebody is, darling.’

This was a perfect mix of sweet and angsty. Lol at the beginning I thought it'll be about our dads picking their baby up from school and being all cute and adorable, then BAM, came the angst. But I absolutely loved it!

Someone recently asked in the notes of one your drabbles about any lingering trauma that Khaleel feels at this point in the series. I think they've got their answer now. It's plausible really, for a child to experience the after-effects of being so harshly separated from his parents. I can only imagine how painful it must've been for the real Freddie to be isolated from his parents at such a young age. Poor baby.

I am glad Kash and Freddie are mending their relationship. I often get the feeling that Kash was never too involved in Freddie's life, but had Freddie survived his illness, it's possible that they may have grown closer. In the context of what has happened in this universe specifically, it'll be a while before they're completely comfortable with each other. But I am glad that Freddie is making an effort.

The end was so sweet, my heart. The perfect end to all the angst💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

(All the parts of this series can also be found under the tag #freddie and jim and their baby on this blog)

[dorleing]

Bill was up to something; George just knew it. He’d be home for work when he wasn’t out of the country, but sometimes was out of the house for unexplained hours, when George knew he wasn’t at the bank. Fred voiced similar suspicions, though he was more distracted by pranking Percy than Bill’s mysterious ‘work’ hours. With the arrival of their O.W.L. results, their mum was less concerned with how they spent their summer hours. George was determined to find out.

Ginny would have been good to recruit for his snooping, but George wasn’t willing to get her involved in spy work that wasn’t inside the Burrow. (He hoped Bill was just spending time with a paramour, and not up to shady business, like vampires) Ron was busy with dueling Neville and cooking with their mum, and wouldn’t be that interested in tailing Bill. So George set out by waiting outside Gringotts (Bill’s hand on the clock was firmly on ‘work’, but other times it said ‘other’, which this ‘other’ was what George really wanted to know,) until Bill left the building for lunch. He followed Bill down Diagon and into Knockturn Alley, glad that he was disguised by a Notice-Me-Not-charmed hat and cloak; he and Fred’s invention prototype (to see exactly how long the charm would last on articles of clothing, the charm was long lasting on jewelry and other accessories but had issues on woven and knit fabrics).

Bill entered Borgin and Burkes, somewhere George refused to set foot into. Was Bill going dark? Was he selling items? Buying items for the bank? Buying items for himself?

Some ten minutes later, he left the store and headed deeper into the alley. George took a moment to consider if knowing Bill’s secrets was worth being potentially mugged or pick pocketed. Or even just having his entire view on Bill being flipped on its head. But no, he’d already invested in being out for the day; Fred was covering for his absence. He was going to follow Bill until it actually got dangerous or it was nearing supper, whichever came first.

Bill walked for some time with his unknown shadow until he came to the Dancing Phoenix pub. George followed as well, figuring a pub couldn’t be the worst place to visit on a lunch break. He took a seat at a back table, where he could keep an eye on both Bill and the door, because while George might be a Gryffindor, he wasn’t an idiot. Bill had seated himself at a table near the center of the dining hall, where a few folks were already in discussion. Bill ordered a shepherd’s pie, but George packed a lunch, so he only ordered a butterbeer.

A sudden swell in noise had George looking up from his lunch. A tall and tanned youth had walked in from behind the bar, triumphant expression beaming, as he announced, “Swift has failed to dethrone me, yet again!” Cheers went up, and the youth walked around the tables, shaking hands and promoting his celebrity with the room. After a lap around, he seated himself at the table Bill was at, and a dusty (and freshly beaten, George assumed,) man sat with them as well.

George spent his lunch people watching. It was an interesting sort who frequented this place, where the bare wooden beams and whitewashed walls added to the charm, not unlike the Three Broomsticks. There were folks who looked like tradesmen and women, with aprons and soot and burns and muscles. There were obviously shady individuals, who appeared to have recently crawled out of a gutter somewhere. Children too, would run in and out, usually either the bar to grab an order and then rush out, or they would go directly to the youth near Bill, speak with him for a few moments, and then also sprint away.

It was certainly lively in a way that George hadn’t expected from this place. He supposed this was the infamous Lower Alleys that Dad had mentioned occasionally. It was…cleaner, than George had previously believed. And not quite as lawless as Dad had made it seem.

George looked over to Bill’s seat where both Bill and the youth were getting up to leave. Bill clasped forearms with him, nodded to the rest of the table, and brusquely left the pub. George packed away his lunch and reached to chug the rest of his butterbeer when the youth grabbed the mug first.

“That’s a pretty fancy hat and cloak you’ve got there,” the youth leaned back in his chair, stretched out like a kneazle in the sun. “It’s not often we get a patron who brings their own food.” George kept eye contact, though the youth was giving him a firm side-eye. There was too much of a challenge behind that, and he was too Gryffindor to ignore it.

“I wasn’t expecting to stop for lunch,” he said gruffly, a lame attempt to disguise his voice. Why didn’t he think to wear more of a disguise? “But I got thirsty.” At that admission, the youth slid the mug back to George.

“Are you sure it wasn’t because your quarry was the thirsty one?” George narrowed his eyes. The youth laughed, almost a bark of a laugh. “I know you don’t mean harm; your aura is all off for malicious intent.”

George raised an eyebrow, and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. “And what do you know about auras?”

“Well, I know that yours feels like it’s missing the final note to its chord, and the music its playing is of adventure, and not revenge. What do you know about auras?”

George hummed and closed his eyes, concentrating on the aura before him. It was much harder to read anyone who wasn’t Fred, but this one was both louder and softer than the usual ones he’d come across. It was a coiled blue, a gradient between slate and robin’s egg, curled around a powerful core. Likely fire, he thought, and there was kindred feeling, one of protect and defend and curiosity.

“I know that yours is whispering of suspicion, but there is a brighter part that wants to know if this humble stranger means harm to those under your protection. And that you really do like my hat.” He added with a smirk.

The youth’s appraising look felt satisfied. George removed his hat, handing it over for inspection. He felt exposed with his fiery mop exposed, but his cloak was still working, as no one looked their way.

“You, humble stranger, need not keep that moniker with a hat like this. Are you in the business of millinery? I know a fair few folks who would love to sport your brand.”

“Ah,” George wasn’t expecting his hat to gain that much attention, seeing as it was designed to not gain attention. “It’s still in the workshopping phase, unfortunately. The imbued charms wear off far too quickly for practical use.”

The youth handed back the hat. “That certainly is unfortunate, my good man. Allow me to introduce myself,” He stood into a sweeping bow. “Lionel Hurst, at your service, milord.”

George matched his pose, “Allow me, your highness, to congratulate you on securing your throne, yet again.”

Lionel rubbed the back of his neck, “You heard about that, did you?”

“Hard not to, when you announced it for all and sundry to hear.” George placed the hat back on his head. “I am afeard that the chiming of the bells beckons me to leave your exalted presence, and beg my lord to grant this plebian a leave of absence, so that he may labour away in his modiste craft, to perfect that which his most noble of heads does so desire.”

Lionel laughed, “At ease, my good sir, for your work is granting of its praise. Go forth and perform your self-imposed duty, and should you see fit to return, bring he who harmonizes your most sacred of songs.”

They bowed a final time before George left the building, hoping he could figure his way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Amsterdam Chapter 109

The hill was basked in moonlight even though there was no moon. It was quiet. It was peaceful. Wade felt happier than at almost any other moment.

The cowled figure stood over him as he lay on the soft, sweet-smelling grass and he grinned up at the skull beneath it. “Lady Death!” he exclaimed. He clasped his hands over his heart. “Sweet mistress of my heart! It has been too long!”

Lady Death chuckled, the laughter booming oddly through the skull. “Always too long. And yet, never long enough,” she said as she looked gently over him. Her voice softened, and if she’d had flesh Wade imagined it would pull back in a smile. “You do not belong here anymore. Your heart has been tethered elsewhere.”

Wade opened his mouth to protest that no, it hadn’t—and blackness surrounded him. He opened his eyes to see—

He was sitting on a couch. On his couch, in his apartment. He looked around in confusion—how had that happened? It didn’t seem possible.

A soft sigh alerted him to the figure beside, on the couch. He looked over to see—Peter, curled up against his side. And now that he recognized the younger man, he noticed the warmth of the man curled against him. “Something wrong?” the younger man asked, blinking his eyes lazily, like a cat.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong, but Wade couldn't figure out quite what it was. He knew it needed dealt with quickly. “I don’t know,” he said softly, voice quavering. What? What was it?

He looked back at the young man beside him as Peter chuckled. He looked up at Wade, glasses falling adorably down his nose, and pushed them back up with a single finger.

He didn’t even have time to react before Wade’s hands were around his neck, squeezing the life out of the clone.

Wade’s eyes opened for just a moment to see—the clean, sterile environment of a lab.

[What?]

{How?}

He was standing at the stove, flipping pancakes. Warmth filled his chest as he thought of how the two of them had finally moved in together. It had even been Peter’s idea. He calmly moved the now done pancakes (dick shaped, because of course) to a plate before pouring more pancake batter into the pan.

Two thin, familiar arms wrapped around Wade’s waist and a face pressed itself in his back. “Mmm,” Peter mulled sleepily, “smells good.”

Wade chuckled warmly as the warmth in his chest heat a little more. “I told you, I’m the pancake king!”

“Mmm,” agreed Peter. “Will His Majesty grace me with a good morning kiss?” he asked.

Wade chuckled, flipped the pancakes, and turned. He leaned down to kiss Peter and stopped halfway bopping his nose lightly with a finger. “Boop,” he said teasingly. Peter smiled.

His nose didn’t twitch.

Wade was even faster this time.

[Stop!]

{How?}

Wade was standing in a lab watching Peter work. Not one of the labs he’d seen Peter in, but a lab nonetheless. “So how do you like having your own lab?” he asked Peter.

Peter turned and grinned. “It’s pretty great,” he said leaning against the counter. The liquid in the beaker behind him, precariously balanced over a burner, began to boil. “This was a good idea.”

“Hmm,” agreed Wade seeing, once again, how sexy his boyfriend looked in the lab coat. “You sure you don’t want to play doctor?” he asked as he tried to waggle an eyebrow suggestively. He never knew if he succeeded or not, when he was wearing the suit.

Peter raised an eyebrow of his own in return. “Not in front of the cameras,” he said firmly with a crooked grin. “I don’t want everybody and Stark seeing us.”

“Oh, that could be kinky.”

Peter laughed, turned, and pulled the beaker off the burner before pouring the liquid into another, larger beaker on a tray with three others that had mysterious liquid in them. “There,” he said with satisfaction. “These just need to set overnight. How do you feel about going out to dinner tonight?”

“Mexican?”

“Of course,” Peter answered.

“Of course!” Wade replied. He held out an arm. There was something odd about it—about the color—

Peter tucked his own arm into the crook of Wade’s and the thought flew away. “Where do you think we should go?” he asked as they walked down the corridor to the elevator.

“Oh, I know a taco truck,” Wade said breezily. Peter gave an odd little snort-chuckle and Wade continued, “It’s good! Trust me! And not only does it taste good,” he added as they made their way to the street—

Since when did Peter work so close to the street?

“You’re zoning,” Peter said calmly, breaking the thought.

Wade gave himself a shake. “I guess I am,” he said thoughtfully. “Anyway—where was I?”

“If this taco truck gives you such a bad memory, I’m not sure we should eat there,” teased Peter.

“Oh, no!” gasped Wade as they walked. “It’s a crime against nature!” They passed by an alley mouth with a street child in it.

Peter didn’t even glance in the child’s direction.

Wade was just as fast this time and opened his eyes into the sterile, stainless steel lab to see a young man sitting across from him, wearily rubbing his eyes. The young man, Asian-looking with a dyed pink streak in his hair and piercings marching up one ear, sighed.

{Who the fuck is this bastard?}

[Why do we keep getting shoved to the back of your mind? We don’t like it there!]

“Deadpool, Deadpool, Deadpool,” the young man said. “Oh, Deadpool.” He flung his head back, letting it drape over the chair he was in before looking at Wade again. “This would be a lot easier if you stop fighting me,” he commented.

“Who the fuck are you?” growled Wade.

“Don’t let it bother you. Either this works, and you become a paid employee of Oscorp—and the benefits are great if you don’t mind working for a stone cold psychopath—or it fails and you kill us all.” The young man sighed and leaned forward again. “I need a break. Want anything? Some water, juice, beer? Something to eat? We’ve got an Irish cook this week and her shepherd’s pie is almost to die for.”

“I’d rather have tacos,” grunted Wade.

The young man sighed. “You’re just a few months too late for tacos, Deadpool, and I’m not allowed to leave until the situation with you has been handled. Anything else?”

“Beer would be good.”

“Right.” The young man stood up and walked out of the lab, whistling a low tune.

[What the fuck happened? How did we get here?]

{Where are we?}

Wade wasn’t certain, but he was pretty sure that he was in Oscorp. His brain thrust the image of the woman he’d tried to help, the one that had stabbed him in the leg and injected him with something.

{Doesn’t that guy know we don’t kill people anymore?}

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 53: Identity

Becoming The Mask

Barbara was at work when her phone buzzed. She didn't have time to check it – she was busy with a toddler who had swallowed a paperclip.

If it had gone into the kid's stomach, things might have been okay. There was some risk of the sharp point doing damage, or the wire catching and tangling in the intestines, but the rounded ends of the paperclip meant there was also a chance it would simply be passed through.

Unfortunately, instead of ingesting the paperclip, the child had aspirated it, so it needed to be removed from her right lung.

Immediately after Barbara got out of surgery, she had to work up the x-rays of a teenager who'd crashed his Vespa into a tree. Nothing was obviously broken and he didn't have a concussion, but there was a risk of hairline fractures.

And then, (because why not,) there were three successive cases of people who had stuck odd things up their butts and gotten those things stuck.

By the time she was able to sit down for two minutes and gulp some coffee, she had forgotten about her buzzing phone.

She didn't even look at her phone until she was leaving for the night. Barbara got it out to turn the ringer off, since she wasn't supposed to be on call that night, which never stopped anyone when they were short-staffed, which was often, and she was tired enough it would probably be dangerous for her to be treating patients again until she'd had some sleep.

(Also, she was probably tired enough that she shouldn't be driving, but Barbara never let herself think about that.)

After finding out she'd missed something as big as her kid sneaking around to fight a secret magical war, Barbara was trying to reassert some boundaries between her time at work and the rest of her life.

Her phone announced that she'd missed a notification.

It was just an exclamation point. What had that been supposed to mean?

Barbara turned her phone off and drove home.

"I'm back, kiddo!"

"We're in the kitchen!"

'We' meant Jim and Toby. Jim was pulling a shepherd's pie out of the oven. Toby and Barbara both inhaled appreciatively.

"You said it's lean ground beef, right?" asked Toby. Jim smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Tobes. You know if you cut all the fat out of your diet you'd get protein poisoning, right? Mom, back me up."

Barbara took a moment to remember this. She wasn't a nutritionist – she'd encountered this concept in a novel a few years ago and looked it up to see if it was true.

"He's right," she said. "It's the rarest kind of food poisoning. Not much risk of it happening here and now." Not in a city in the United States, haven of processed and instant foods.

Jim portioned out the steaming vegetables and meat and mashed potatoes. Barbara added some sour cream to hers.

"Is Nana out tonight?" she asked Toby.

"Yeah, she and some of her chess buddies are doing a tournament. Informal, I think, but maybe a prize? Like, a gift certificate or something."

"We should see if we can get her and Mr Strickler to play a match sometime," said Jim. "I think I heard once that he's a grandmaster, but I don't know how often he plays anymore."

That combination, Nancy and Walt, made Barbara's brain click and remember the significance of that exclamation point she'd sent herself.

"So … it's been a month. Have you made any progress on telling your friends' families about trolls?"

Both boys froze.

"We gave Vendel a bunch of family stories," said Toby. "Once he's done reading it, we'll find out if we have permission or we're going behind everybody's backs."

"Guess I should warn him the clock's ticking again," said Jim.

"We could maybe tell people now and say we're LARPing, and tell the whole truth later?" Toby suggested. "That's what my therapist thinks is going on."

"You told your therapist?" asked Barbara and Jim together, in very different tones.

Jim's eyes were huge. He had a white-knuckled grip on his silverware. "Tell me you didn't use the word 'Trollhunter' in front of her."

"… No?" said Toby in confusion. "I just said your character was a magic knight on a quest to fight an evil troll."

Jim sighed. "Okay, that's generic enough it's probably safe. Don't use any specific names or terms, though."

"Dude, you seriously think someone is spying on a random high schooler's therapy appointments?"

"Someone is spying on a random high school's entire history class," Jim pointed out.

The rest of the meal was tense. After they were done eating and cleaning up, Toby went back home, and Jim went upstairs to do homework.

Jim's yearbook from the previous year was on one of the shelves in the living room. Barbara brought it over to the couch.

She could use this to get an idea of who Jim and Toby's classmates were, at least.

Jim didn't have many signatures in the book. There was Toby's, of course. The rest all had generic messages – "Have a great summer" from Eli Pepperjack, "Have fun this summer!" from Shannon Longhannon, "See you in September" and a doodled smiley face from Claire Nuñez, and "Enjoy summer break" from Seamus Johnson.

People Jim knew? Or random classmates he approached so he wouldn't look 'weird' for not caring about yearbook autographs?

Barbara made note of all the names. She felt like Jim had let slip that the other children who knew about trolls were girls, early on, but she couldn't quite remember for sure and didn't want to rule anyone out. She flipped to the class photos to match names to faces, so she could keep watch for the signatories hanging around her house or across the street.

+=+

Enrique carefully printed the English alphabet. It hadn't been that hard to mimic from a reference image, but this was his first time writing it independently. He haltingly hummed the song to keep track of his place.

"Pretty good," said Claire, reading over his shoulder. He fought the urge to turn and strike. He was (supposed to be) safe. Claire wasn't purposefully lurking in his blind spot to attack him. "Definitely way better than my first scribbles. I guess next you should learn to write your name."

On another piece of paper, she printed it for him to copy.

The first letter was N. Sensible enough. Except wasn't that one pronounced 'nuh' instead of 'en' when it was in a word and not the alphabet? He shrugged. Claire knew this writing system better than he did – if she said Enrique started with N, he'd go with it until he had some evidence otherwise.

The second letter was O. He frowned. That … didn't feel right. Shouldn't it be an R?

The third letter was T. He stopped.

"Read it," he said to Claire, trying not to growl.

"Not Enrique," she said, without shame. "You only copied the 'Not' part so far."

Angrily, Enrique scribbled out the letters he'd written so far and the bit he'd copied from. In fast, shaky letters he copied out the rest of it and underlined it.

"No," said Claire, getting angry in turn, "you don't get to use that name. That's my brother's name, not yours."

"The kid can share. It's mine now."

"Oh, come on," Claire scoffed. "You're, like, hundreds of years old. I get that Jim's used to being called 'Jim' after sixteen years in deep cover or whatever, but you can't possibly have gotten that attached to 'Enrique' in just a few months."

… Did she really not know?

"It's the only name I've got."

"Bullshit. Other trolls had to call you something when you were in the Darklands."

Now he growled for real. "That wasn't a name."

"What, some kind of codename system? Then I'd think you'd welcome the chance to start using your real name again."

"I don't know what it used to be!" he snapped. "No one exactly kept track of who they were grabbing. And if we lived, it was 'Changeling' this and 'Impure' that if it wasn't just 'hey you'! Enrique's the first name I can remember having and you don't get to take it away from me!"

He stood there breathing hard for maybe a full minute. He'd cracked the pen. There was gloppy ink on his clenched fist. He licked it off before ink could drip on the floor, and popped the plastic into his mouth.

Claire's voice, when she spoke again, was a lot softer.

"How did anyone tell the Changelings apart, if … if you didn't have names?"

Enrique snorted. "You think they bothered? One Changeling's as good or as bad as any other. S'probably part of why Jim and the big Boss Man were so quick to change sides when they had the chance."

"Even the other Changelings?"

"The rule about not getting attached starts early."

Claire looked like she was about to cry. That … that wasn't fair, she didn't get to make him feel bad for her when they were in the middle of a fight …

"We give each other nicknames, sometimes," he admitted. Imp had been a popular one, if nothing else about a Changeling stood out. "Us or the goblins. But then when we get up top, it's like a rite of passage, you know? We get a name then. Using the old nickname's … like an insult. Saying you weren't worth making a surface agent."

Claire blinked rapidly a few times, then hugged him. He almost clawed her before realizing it wasn't an attack.

"Oi, easy!"

"You can't have my brother's name," she said stubbornly. "But we'll figure something else out."

"Not exactly your call to make," Enrique retorted.

"Don't ruin the moment."

"What moment–?!"

+=+

Previous Chapter (Troll Dads become official!)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Angor Rot’s debut!)

Not featured in the above chapter: Jim's internal panic, as he frantically tries to figure out how much Toby has already told Dr Archenn and how to warn Toby off telling her anything else, without exposing yet another Changeling's identity to humans.

Featured in the above chapter: my headcanon that Otto addressing Not Enrique as 'Imp' in early Season 2 was a deliberate insult. I've actually got a different nickname in mind for Not Enrique, it just didn't feel natural to bring it up in this scene. Imp, short for Impure, is basically a 'starter nickname' that all Changelings have in the Darklands, until and unless something about them stands out enough that the other Changelings start calling them something else.

[elizascarlet]

Part I- Spring

“Happy Easter!” Anne gave her bosom friend a hug, sitting down beside her in class.

“To you too!” Diana returned.

Anne brandished a posy of wildflowers, giggling. “For your table, Madame.”

“Oh Anne,” Diana breathed. “The trilliums are blooming! I do wish I could go with you to pick more of them, but Mother wants me to come home right after school. We’re going to Carmody tonight to spend it with my cousins.”

Anne’s countenance fell. “You mean, you’re not coming to Easter dinner?”

Diana glanced around and lowered her voice. “No. And you should’ve heard the things Father said. It made me so angry I had to go to my room to scream into my pillow.”

“They won’t allow you to come?”

“No.” Diana sounded so dejected.

“I want this Easter to be perfect for Mary. She’s made Sebastian so happy! I just wish you could make it.”

Diana squeezed Anne’s hand. “Perhaps next year things will be different.”

Miss Stacy called the class to attention and their conversation ended.

-

Easter morning dawned bright and clear, with the crow of a rooster and the lowing of milk cows. The Snow Queen finally sprang forth her blossoms, showering Anne’s gable room full of starry white petals.

“Happy Easter to you, dear Snow Queen!” Anne called out her window, finishing tying her braids.

Down below she noticed a horse trotting up the drive. It was Gilbert Blythe. Anne took a quiet moment to really assess her rival. He was really quite handsome, having left boyhood behind, and looked all manly at the moment astride his horse.

Gilbert dismounted, and, noticing Anne in her window, waved. Ashamed at being caught, Anne drew back and slammed her window closed.

As she made her way down the stairs she could hear Gilbert’s voice.

“I’m here to retrieve whatever  foodstuffs you are providing for Easter dinner.”

Marilla answered him back. “The shepherd’s pie isn’t quite done, so we’ll bring it along when we come over later. Anne,” Marilla said, spotting the latter as she entered the kitchen. “Will you fetch that pie I made last night? And a few of those fruit preserves, please.”

Anne did as she was bid, and quick as naught, had an old sturdy basket filled with food looped over Gilbert’s arm.

“We’ll be over there after church. Now get, get, or you’ll be late!” Marilla shooed Gilbert out the door goodnaturedly. “Are you ready for church, Anne?”

Anne twirled, showing off the new dress Marilla had made her. It was green-- a dark green like an evergreen tree-- with accents of gingham at the wrist, hem, and yoke. “I love it, Marilla.”

“I’m glad.” Marilla sighed, glancing out the window. “There’s Matthew with the buggy now. Let me pull the shepherd’s pie out of the oven and we’ll be off.” Marilla set the dish on the warm stove, covering it with a cloth. “There, that will keep it warm until we return.”

“Is it alright if I go over early to help Mary?” Anne asked.

“After church, mind you. Now grab your coat and let’s be off.”

-

Anne walked with Gilbert to his home. “Lovely service. I’m sad that Bash and Mary couldn’t make it.”

Gilbert glanced aside at her. “You know that it’s just an excuse, right?”

Anne raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “I remember that first Sunday. I thought the minister would die from apoplexy there on the spot! I think it so shameful that some folks discriminate. And especially a minister who preaches we’re all equal in God’s eyes! Being banned from the church just because the color of their skin... Oh and don’t get me started on Diana’s parents.”

“They sent a note declining Mary’s invitation.” Gilbert added, glowering and shaking his head. “Within all the flourishing and fancy language, it wasn’t hard to detect the real reason. We all know they won’t come because Bash and Mary are black. It’s disgusting.”

Together they trudged through the mud in the path. A silence fell on the pair, but while in the past it would have made Anne uncomfortable, right now she felt at ease. Was their rivalry truly at an end? Could they perhaps, be friends?

Somehow, that word wasn’t adequate enough to describe her relationship with Gilbert. Her and Diana were friends , and her and Ruby were friends as well in a similar way. Same with Cole and Aunt Jo. Kindred Spirits and friends all rolled into one.

She and Gilbert were friends not in that way. They were different but she couldn’t put her finger at how...

Anne, frustrated at how the right word eluded her, wasn’t watching where her footsteps were landing, and she stumbled over a hidden branch.

“Careful,” admonished Gilbert with a little laugh, catching her elbow to steady her.

“Thanks.” He let go and, strangely, Anne mourned the loss of his touch.

Soon, they made it to the Blythe-Lacroix house, which was already a-bustle with activity. Mary met them at the door.

“Gilbert Blythe! You will stay outside. I want no bad luck of yours to interfere with my cooking, you hear me? You take one step inside this kitchen and your curse will rain down and ruin all my hard work. You can clean yourself up in the barn and enter in through the other door.”

“Aye aye ma’am.” Gilbert gave a goofy salute and headed off round the back.

Anne smiled at Mary. “Would you like some help?”

“I believe I’m all about finished, but thank you for your offer. Maybe you could set the table? There’s Marilla and Matthew now. Oh! And the Lyndes right behind them.”

Soon they were all gathered together, and Sebastian said Grace.

Mary cleared her throat. “Thank you all for coming. You’ve made my heart good. It’s so nice to cook for a large gathering again.”

“Thank you for having us, Mary.” Marilla smiled over her glass.

“What did you put in your chicken Mary? It is absolutely scrumptious and divine.” Anne sighed, in raptures over the blend of spices on her tongue.

“Let’s see, paprika, cumin, tarragon, pepper, and a hint of lemon. I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? It’s the best chicken I’ve ever tasted!” Anne caught sight of Marilla and hastily amended her statement. “After Marilla’s, of course.”

“Yes, Marilla’s fried chicken is always wonderful,” Rachel Lynde chimed in. “But your chicken, Mary, well, has an… unusual taste, that’s for sure.”

Anne glared at Mrs. Lynde, annoyed.

While the adults changed the subject and chattered about someone’s new cow or other, Gilbert nudged her arm. “Here, you can have more of mine.” He said quietly, gesturing to his plate.

Anne turned the glare on him. “Why? Do you not like it either?” She snarled.

Gilbert raised his hands to ward off her ire. “Relax, Anne. I enjoy Mary’s cooking just swell. But since I’m full and still have some left, perhaps you’d like to finish it, since you seem to like it so much.”

Anne felt chagrined, as though he’d just chastised her. “Sorry. Yes, thank you.”

Gilbert slid what was left of his piece of chicken onto her plate.

Anne quickly bit into it, half moaning at the taste. Finished too fast for her liking, another piece found it’s way into her mouth. This time, she caught Matthew’s eye over the table. He warily shook his head, reaching up and flipping his nose with his index finger, sublty pointing in Mrs. Lynde’s direction

Anne, confused, looked over at the woman.

“Oh my goodness!” Mrs. Lynde gasped, her hand clasped to her chest, her eyes large with scandal. “I cannot believe such a thing.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Anne. She swallowed quickly, utterly baffled.

“Anne Shirley Cuthbert! I thought you knew better than that!” Marilla admonished, adding her two bits.

“What? It’s just chicken.”

“Yes, but to eat after Gilbert has already partaken of it is such a shameful thing. And you, young man,” She added, turning to Anne’s companion. “You ought to know better as well.”

Anne rose to his defense in indignation. “He offered because I enjoyed Mary’s chicken so much, nothing more. And besides, Matthew shares his food with me all the time. How is this any different?”

“Matthew is your guardian dearest, that’s understandable.” Mrs. Lynde coaxed.”But to share food with a man you’re not related to…” She shuddered, shaking her head.”How utterly shameful.”

Anne narrowed her eyes defiantly and, holding Mrs. Lynde’s gaze, took another bite of chicken.  

The entire table erupted.

Mrs. Lynde and Marilla started shouting, Anne glaring while she finished her bite, then stood, hurling words back as good as she got.

Meanwhile, Matthew and Mr. Lynde exchanged looks before escaping out the door, and Mary hurriedly started cleaning up plates. Gilbert, seeing this, seized his chance to escape as well and jumped up to help Mary. Sebastian was frozen in place, his head whipping back and forth between the two opponents as though following a game of shuttlecock.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal--”

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert you will not talk to your elders this way--”

“Teenagers! Didn’t I warn you Marilla that she would be nothing but trouble, her and her red hair--”

“Why are we bringing my hair into this? It’s not like I can change it! Oh wait, I already tried that!--”

“I am not discussing this further. You have behaved rather shamelessly and now--”

“If you had just listened to me, Marilla she would’ve been brought up right but no, you listened to Matthew and now look what’s happened--”

“Nothing happened! I do this all the time! I don’t see what’s shameful about it at all--”

“We’re leaving right this instance--”

“I won’t stand for it--”

“Argh! Enough, fine!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” Mrs. Lynde left in a huff the door slamming shut behind her.

Marilla, cross with Anne, grabbed the girl by her shoulders and planned to march the girl straight to the buggy for an uncomfortable ride home.

Just before crossing the threshold, Anne turned back to Mary.

“I’m ever so sorry I ruined your dinner. It really was lovely.”

Mary shook her head, smiling. “Anne, it was in no way ruined. In fact, there was always a tussle or an argument anytime I held dinner at the Bog. Felt like home.”

Anne smiled and allowed Marilla to steer her outside.

As they descended the steps, they could hear Bash raise his voice. “You know better than to feed a woman off your plate. What were you thinking!?”

“I wasn’t! I was just trying to do something nice for her! I…” The rest of Gilbert's response was muffled and lost to the ears.

Anne smiled a little. At least she wasn’t the only one getting a scolding tonight, that’s for sure.

(Read the whole thing on AO3)

[winteriron-trash]

Promt idea, maybe you could do one where Tony finds out Bucky can cook (or vis versa) , and from then on Bucky just walks up to him with plates are of food and everyone else is like wtf is going on and it somehow morphs into that being how Buck shows he cares (or, again, vis versa)

I’M DOING VICE VERSA BECAUSE I HAVE THE BIGGEST KINK FOR THE CONCEPT THAT TONY WAS TAUGHT HOW TO COOK BY ANA JARVIS AND IT BLINDSIDES EVERYONE BECAUSE NO ONE EXPECTS THE PAMPERED RICH KID TO BE ABLE TO COOK. Yelling aside, this is a lovely prompt and I hope I did it justice.

-

Bucky had to admit, he wasn’t ready for the knowledge that Tony Stark knew how to cook. He hated to admit that he fell prey to believing the stereotype about rich people being too pampered to handle their own daily tasks. Tony obliterated that cliche though, as Bucky found out one day.

“God, what is that smell?” Bucky groaned, stumbling into the kitchen.

Tony glanced over his shoulder. “Eggs and bacon? Why you want some?”

Bucky plopped down into a chair. “Didn’t know you could cook.”

“Eggs and bacon don’t count as cooking.” Tony made a face and turned back to his food. He grabbed more eggs from the carton. “If you want me to cook for you, I’ll make you an actual meal.”

“So you do know how to cook?”

Tony flipped an egg. “Yep. I’m not completely useless, you know.”

Bucky made a face. “I didn’t say that. Where’d you learn?”

“A woman named Ana Jarvis,” Tony hummed. “She was married to our butler and cooked for us. She started showing me how to cook when I wouldn’t stop annoying her as a kid.”

Tony walked over to the table and set a plate down in front of Bucky, and one in front of himself.

Bucky took a bite of food and held in a groan. “This is great.”

Tony only shrugged and smiled.

-

The next time Tony cooked for Bucky, he was reading in the living room and a bit startled by it.

“Here,” Tony announced, shoving something in Bucky’s face. “I made creme brulee. Taste.”

Bucky blinked, but set down his book and accepted the spoon. He took a bite. “I don’t know what creme brulee is,” Bucky admitted, “but this is amazing, Tony.”

Tony grinned with victory. “Good. Guess I’ll have to start making you taste everything I make.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Bucky said, but he smiled with it.

“Shut up,” Tony made a face, “and let me feed you. All you eat is protein bars. It’s not healthy.”

Bucky arched an amused eyebrow. “And creme brulee is healthy?”

Tony nodded seriously. “Of course it is.”

It became a thing. Tony made Bucky taste anything he made. Especially if it was sweet. Which then morphed into Tony just bringing Bucky full plates of food whenever he felt like it. It always seemed to align with whenever Bucky hadn’t eaten all day. Bucky was half convinced that Tony was spying on his eating habits with FRIDAY. Which was, well... sweeter than Bucky expected it would be.

“What is with that?” Steve finally asked, when Clint was trying -and failing, mostly on Steve’s part- to show them how to play a video game called Mario Kart.

“With what?” Bucky asked, shoving a mouthful of what Tony called shepherd's pie into his mouth. 

Steve shrugged. “Tony bringing you food all the time. I mean, I’m glad you two are getting along but...”

“But it’s weird,” Clint filled in, just as he derailed Bucky’s character with some turtle shell thing.

Bucky made a face. “It’s not weird. Tony likes to cook, I like to eat.”

“I like to eat and he doesn’t bring me food,” Clint said.

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe he just doesn’t like you.”

Then, he was dodging a pillow Clint threw at him with a laugh.

Bucky had good days. In fact, since moving in with the Avengers, most of his days were good days.

Today was not a good day.

Instead, it was a day where Bucky locked the door to his room and sat on his bed, staring at a wall for hours. He was afraid of getting up. Afraid of talking to people. Afraid of hurting someone.

Afraid of hurting himself.

So instead, he stared at the wall, arms curled around his knees as phantom memories screamed awful things at him. 

“Sargeant Barnes,” FRIDAY’s automated voice filled the silence, startling Bucky, “I’ve been asked to inform you that Mister Stark is at the door if you’d like to invite him in. He has food.”

Bucky considered it. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. But... food was nice.

“Let him in.”

The automatic lock on the door clicked and was followed by footsteps. Bucky twisted around to face Tony, who was holding a plate and mug.

“I know you’re having a bad day,” Tony started, “and I’m not going to bother you with my rambling. But I do know that tiramisu and hot chocolate make great comfort foods, so here.” He set both down on Bucky’s nightstand. “Let me know if you need to talk or... something.” Tony���s hands fiddled awkwardly at his side, then he walked out of the room, the door shutting behind him.

Bucky stared at the food blankly for a moment, then smiled. He’d eat, then talk to Tony. Maybe watch that stupid baking show with him, the one that always had Tony yelling at the screen.

Yeah. That’d be nice.

[you-andthebottlemen]

60 - Request: INTERMISSION X MISSION song fic

Based off this request from @whentheworldswastingtime

i absolutely adore your fanfics!! i spent the whole day yesterday at home reading them and it sent me into dreamland 😍 i love your style of writing too i cannot wait for a new ones :,) . would you be able to write a fic about intermission through to mission? i’d love to see a fic about them as when i listen to the song i always imagine being alone with van having a smoke whilst he’s abit down and i ‘piece things back up for him’ and being nostalgic , thanks :) xx

i was thinking the plot could maybe alter between the reader who has started a career in music maybe? and the reader helping van based on the song intermission and vans like ‘ piece things back up for me ‘ and van helping the reader being like ‘ i’m sure you know what your doing now if there’s a wall knock it down’ and him talking about how the girl has learnt from van and vans helping her ?? sorry if it’s too confusing ahah xx

Thank you so much for your kind words! I really appreciate them. I hope this fic is all you imagined, thank you for waiting <3 

It was a challenging one as this storyline isn’t how I interpret the song. But I think it’s pretty cute none the less. Enjoy!

E x

*****************************************

INTERMISSION

The last week or so had consisted of a slow repetition. Each day Van would wake, get stuck into his writing, reach a dead end and then retreat solemnly for a smoke. He wasn’t himself and wouldn’t accept any form of help or reasoning. It frustrated him to have to chase songs; usually they came to him in minutes.

What was making matters worse was that Van didn’t really know what to do with himself when he wasn’t touring. Life at home while great, made him feel a little out of place. The stage was where he felt most comfortable and touring was the life he’d grown accustomed to. Without recording, another tour or even a press trip to anticipate, this weird gap in his lifetime of momentum felt strange and unsettling.

You knew too that Van was really caught up in worrying about the third album; how they’d not heard from the label yet and what the fans would be thinking when no music came out when they’d originally promised. He didn’t want to let anyone down and it was eating him alive.

You decided to force Van into taking a night off for real, to forget the song writing for a little while. It took some tough love but it worked. You’d made a roast, Van’s favourite, and gotten him to help you with the Yorkshire puddings.

“You just do it like this…” you instructed, showing Van how to prepare and pour the mix.

You had no doubt that Mary had taught him how to make them long ago, but you didn’t trust that he’d taken it in at the time. He watched intensely, his arms folded as he followed your hands and memorised the technique.

Van made enough messy Yorkshire puddings to have for dinner tonight, lunch tomorrow and some in case Larry dropped by at all because he knew they were his favourite also. Your heart swelled in your chest whenever you thought about Van’s love for Larry and the companionship they had, even when separated.

“You little domestic goddess!” Van teased as you put everything in the oven, though genuinely impressed with you.

You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t keep the smile off your face. Once you’d put the oven gloves away, you shuffled over to Van and wrapped your arms around his middle. He was wearing his old The Streets hoodie. God knows what that jumper had seen in its years. It was stained and wearing thin, but it was your favourite. Van rested his chin on the top of your head and swayed you gently side to side. The warmth of his body flooded through to yours and gave you feeling no words could ever explain. You couldn’t be more in love.

Finally, the food was ready and Van helped you set the table. He poured you each a glass of wine and made sure the gravy was in prime position by his placemat.

“Get. In. Me,” Van said enthusiastically, eyes wide and staring at his plate as you put it down in front of him.

You laughed at him and poured gravy over your own plate.

Through stuffed mouthfuls, Van told you about some of Mary’s cooking triumphs and failures. One particular story involving Shepherd’s pie made you almost choke on your potatoes with laughter.

It was good to see him get back some of his spark. Though once the meal was done, Van recoiled back to his guitar and notebook, only to end up frustrated once more. The cycle started up again. By the time you were finished clearing up from dinner, he’d floated outside for a smoke.

Van sat outside on a wooden deck chair lazily with his legs stretched out onto the table, one crossed over the other. You could tell he was a bit down; he was quiet and lost in his head. He stared out into the garden as he puffed on a cigarette, the smoke rose slowly and then disappeared in the cold, night time air. You watched from the doorway as Van breathed in deeply to the centre of his chest and then exhaled. It was almost calming for you to watch the rhythm of his breaths and the way his head tilted back every so often. His movements were automatic; he was completely swept up in his thoughts and set to autopilot.

The deck on the back of your house had become somewhat of a sanctuary for the two of you in recent months. It was perfect for you and Van to sit, have a smoke and write music together. You’d always loved music beyond anything else, but never done much about it. Since being in a relationship with Van though, that had changed. You’d actually managed to make somewhat of a start on a career. He inspired you to work hard, make connections, be the best you could.

“You know it’s almost a year to the date,” Van said suddenly and mostly to himself. He had a laugh to his tone, but you knew he wasn’t amused.

He didn’t say what he was referring to and you didn’t ask. In his head, Van was replaying memories of sitting on a porch not dissimilar to yours and drinking with the boys until the sun came up, celebrating the one-year anniversary of The Ride. He dwelled on thoughts of how they laughed and reminisced on their journey as a band, but mostly how they all felt like they were just sat there counting the days until they got the call for the next album to go ahead. Always anticipating their next move, always looking to the future. Van was a big picture sort of guy.

It frustrated him how the label wouldn’t let them release music on their own time. Instead, they saw the music as a way to make money so the large gaps between albums that Van hated, just meant more fan anticipation and more albums sold when they had their inevitable comeback. It didn’t sit right with Van at all but there was nothing he could do; this was the real-world version of achieving his dreams.

You moved from the doorway and settled into the chair beside Van, placing a hand on his thigh. Your face was creased with concern as he stared out into the darkness, not acknowledging your presence. He looked almost ghostly.

“I just wanna know for certain they’re gonna get us in for the third. You know?”

“Yeah, I do,” you replied, and moved your arm up to curl around Van’s shoulders.

He leaned into the touch and put his cigarette out in the ashtray that sat on the arm rest of his chair. Van let you pull him close so his head was resting against yours. His hair was grown out and scruffy, secretly your favourite. You ran your fingers through it gently and scratched his scalp, something he found soothing. He moved his legs off the table and folded them up under himself. You could feel the unusual sort of sadness radiate off him and it hurt you.

In this moment, part of you felt like you were holding all Van’s pieces together.

“They’re gonna call. How can they not? And you’ll write a banger of an album, you always do. Besides, haven’t you had the songs ready since you were like 10 years old or something?”

You were trying to reassure Van, hoping your joke would make him smile. It worked a little because he buried his face into your neck and made a small sound. Though you knew that no matter what you said, he wanted to be grumpy right now and just soak in it. Your moody little drama queen.

Van’s head had slid down to rest on your chest, one arm draped out over your legs.

“Dunno’ why I can’t write,” he whined, his voice hardly audible.

“You’re stressing yourself out, putting too much pressure on. It’s all gonna be fine, I promise,” you replied and ran your fingers through his hair again.

Like a small child, Van continued to sadly slide down until his head was in your lap. You bit back a laugh at his behaviour.

“Okay get up you’re gonna fall off your chair.”

You helped Van prop himself up again.

“Glad I didn’t go Lakeview this year,” Van mumbled as he lifted his arms to stretch then rub his eyes.

“Yeah, me too. Bed?”

“Bed.”

You led your sad and spaced out Van inside to the bedroom by the hand, stopping only to turn all the lights out. Once your clothes were shed, you pulled each other under the soft bed covers, kissing and holding one another until you fell asleep.

…………………………..

MISSION

Van had returned home from a few weeks off recording to find you collapsed into chaos. You had been signed to a very small, independent label only a year or so ago. This label had recently dissolved and shut down; leaving you once again unsigned and about 10 steps backwards in your career. You were absolutely gutted.

Van’s first order of business was to run you a bath and force you to wash. You tried to ask about how recording went but he just gave you short answers, knowing you didn’t really have the mental energy to listen to all that right now. When you were clean, he scooped you up out of the bath, wrapped you in a warm fuzzy towel and set you down into bed. The next was to make you both hot mugs of Yorkshire tea. You slid into one of his hoodies and a pair of trackies that were under your pillow from the night before. When Van returned, he flipped off his boots, leaving them strewn on the floor, then climbed up onto the bed and sat opposite you cross legged.

As you talked, Van listened intently, not really speaking much until you were done. You appreciated this as you just needed to get everything off your chest. Tears fell, you sobbed and catastrophised. Though felt good to let it out and vocalise your chaotic thoughts, having them eventually turn into something coherent. You told him how while nothing had changed, it felt like a weight had been lifted just by talking.

“Come here,” Van instructed, then placed both your mugs down and pulled you into him.

You’d been talking so long that Van had finished his tea and yours had gone cold. You fell forwards and rested your forehead in the crook of his neck.

“Now we’ve got you talkin’ straight, what are we gonna do?”

You liked Van’s use of ‘we’ when referring to something that was definitely your problem and not his.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, your voice breaking.

Van ran his warm and hands up and down your back. It calmed you. You shut your eyes and breathed in his smell, finally taking a minute to appreciate the fact he was home again.

“Well there’s no use just spinning out,” he replied sounding just like Bernie.

You wondered how many times Van and his father had held similar conversations.

“I learnt from the best,” you teased.

“Exactly! You helped me get through that time where I was just mopin’ around all hopeless. And look now, halfway done the album!”

Of course, Van saw the positive in your comment. He was right; he’d picked himself up and made it through. Sure, maybe you helped a little. But things had worked out in the end. Van’s determination and drive always inspired you, it was one of the things you loved about him most.

With a heavy breath, you sat back up and looked Van in the face. He was clean shaven and looked as though he’d recently washed his hair, probably just for you even though he could have been wearing a garbage bag for all you cared, he’d still be perfect. The light from the bedroom window was shining onto him and made his hair look more golden than it really was. You reached out and touched the hair that curled beneath his ears now that it had grown so long, a small smile on your face.

“You know what you’re doing now y/n. You’ve grafted before, been signed before. You can do it again. Just gotta get through the hard bit now and not be arsed about the rest of it, it’ll be fine,” he tried to encourage.

If anything, this made your heart race with anxiety. The thought of having to redo all your hard work made you feel sick. But you understood what he meant. He was trying to say that you were capable of anything once you set your mind to it. That if you took Van’s attitude even, you’d get somewhere. Saying it was one thing, doing it was another. You didn’t want to think about that just yet.

“If there’s a wall, knock it down. Just like you taught me. Plus, you’re fuckin’ class babe. Anyone would be an idiot not to have you on their label.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes. Van grinned, knowing he’d finally gotten through. You collapsed back onto the pillows and Van followed. He lay on his stomach beside you, resting an arm on your tummy and his head in his hand. He looked so fucking cute.

“I’m so lucky I’ve got you Van,” you sighed. You reached out and ran your fingers slowly through his hair, you felt him shift and then lay his cheek on your stomach.

“You’ve always got me. Through anything,” he replied simply, as if it were the most obvious fact.

Your chest welled up with feeling and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“As long as you’ve got the simple things, you’re set. At least that’s what I was taught,” Van continued. “A Mrs, a roof over me head…Y’know?”

Van slid his hand under the hoodie and began to draw shapes on your skin, making goose bumps erupt instantly to which he smiled to himself. It was easy for him to talk about having the simple things; his Rockstar life allowed him more than simple these days. He was never bigheaded about it though, at least not when it came to settling down and living life right. Van McCann was a raging traditionalist in that sense. As long as he had you, a house, Larry and maybe some babies in the future, he’d always have enough.

“I’ll always look after ya.”

“I know. I love you,” you sniffed, feeling both happy and sad.

At least you knew that no matter what and regardless of how uncertain your future was, Van would always be there. You’d continue to learn and grow together. This was reassuring in itself.

“Hey, now that you don’t have as much on your plate, we can finally go Sydney!”

Van pulled his head up to look at you, his face was glowing, and a large toothy grin was plastered to it.

“Let’s just stay there,” you smiled warmly, instantly closing your eyes again and getting lost in the daydream.

And with that, Van jumped up off the bed and went to fetch his laptop. The two of you spent the rest of the day cuddled up in the sheets, googling flights and talking about all the places you wished to visit and things you’d like to see together on the other side of the world where all your worries couldn’t touch you.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

5&7 pleaseee? but make it with harry being submissive and you dominating him!! i loveeeee your writing and you’re so talented!!!

Sub Harry - 5. “Let me touch you please.” & 7. “Be grateful that I’m even letting you cum. Been so fucking naughty lately.”

Thanks so much! Again, I’m not too great at the whole domination thing, but I did something where she has the power over him. It’s different. And has anal play so fair warning to those of you averse to that kind of thing!

Sometimes Harry is the one that needs to be taken care of, it’s that simple. Specially after working for so long, after tour, and the holidays, and traveling. She can see it written all over his face when he appears outside his L.A. home’s door that he needs to let go. Being his only partner for at least the last two years, she’s dealt with various sides of him and this is one she enjoys the most because he gives her free rein to baby him and make him feel good in every way possible because he deserves it.

“Hey! I wasn’t expecting you!” Y/N exclaimed happily, kissing his cheek and taking one of his bags from him.

“M’not staying for long, just a few days. I just needed a break.” He mumbled as he stepped further into his home. She stayed when he was gone to look after things, keep his plants alive, keep things clean, and call for any service the house needed.

“Oh.” She frowned and he frowned as well, then breaking out into a yawn, “Know you probably sleep a lot, but how about a nice, warm shower, a nap, and I’ll make some dinner?” She asked he hummed.

“Shepherd’s pie w-”

“With extra peas.” She finished for him and he smiled, nodding and kissing her forehead, “Also, I found this meat substitute that I really liked! I’ll do half and half and you tell me what you think.”

“Can’t wait.” He whispered against her skin, “Feels so good to be with you.” He mumbled before trudging up the stairs and to his room. She left the potatoes to a boil as she put his clothes from the suitcase to wash and then hurrying to the grocery store to buy some of the missing ingredients and getting to work. While the food finished up in the oven she managed to have a quick shower, getting dressed just in time, as the timer on her phone started ringing for her to check on the food. Thankfully, it was ready to eat and she made up a salad as well and went to wake him.

“Harry?” She whispered, sitting beside him on the bed, petting his still slightly damp hair back from his face, “Dinner’s ready.” She said softly and he groaned, turning away and she smiled, “C’mon baby, I didn’t work hard for nothing, did I?” She asked and he huffed.

“M’lazy.” He rasped and she tutted.

“I know, baby, but you gotta eat. Bought your favorite wine, made a yummy salad, c’mon.” She tried convincing and he sat up slowly, rubbing at his eyes and she smiled.

“Inly b’cause you worked so hard to make me home food.” He said kissing her cheek and she smiled, guiding him down.

They ate while chatting about things that wouldn’t remind him about work, they went up into the room once they finished and started flipping through the TV, he was buzzed  and very touchy, sucking at her neck and collar bones, every chance he got, and she had barely noticed he was hard against her until she cuddled more closely into him and he groaned, thrusting against her bum again, starting to build a rhythm and then he mumbled in her ear.

“Make me cum.” He pleaded and she moaned, rubbing back against him and he shook his head, “No, I uh- saw something online about using your fin-”

“You want me to finger your bum?” She asked, a small smile playing on her lips. He was very open with these things, he’s not sure why he was feeling so shy this time, but he was. He was stressed and tired and a little buzzed and very horny. He just wanted to cum so hard it drained his energy, like when he made her cum. He wanted her to be in charge and to make him feel good and he didn’t want to think about anything but cumming. He nodded.

“Supposedly it makes for the best orgasm and I want you to make me feel good, please baby, need you to make me cum hard and so fucking much we won’t know what t’do with it.” He mumbled, nibbling at her skin and she was excited. Harry already came loads, she couldn’t imagine what doing this to him would do for his orgasms, “Would you do tha’ for me?” He asked and she bit down on her lip.

“Maybe I’ve looked into it too…” she said softly, pushing him down and straddling his lap, dry humping at the bulge at his crotch and he moaned loud, hands coming to her hips and she shook her head, “Nuh-uh.” She grabbed his hands, interlocking their fingers and resting them beside his head as she guided herself over him again, “Asked me to take care of you, I will. Are you gonna be good for me, H?” He nodded whimpering as she slowed her pace, but applied more pressure, “Gonna be my good boy tonight?”

“Yes, Y/N. Fuck, yes.” He whined and she smiled.

“That’s right, gonna make you cum loads of times. M’gonna milk your big, full balls, baby, d’you wan’that?” She whispered and he nodded fast, teeth digging into his bottom lip to refrain from making an unwarranted noise. “I’m gonna get the toys and you should be undressed when I come back, alright?”

“Yes.” He verbalized his understanding and she kissed his lips fast and hurrying into his walk in closet.

He used plenty of toys on her, so there were options… there was a vibrator, he had several cock rings (they weren’t a favorite accessory on his fingers only) she grinned at the though, reminding herself to give him that line later. There was also some coconut oil lube…she debated on tying him up, but she knew that she didn’t want his touch to be gone, she loved how grabby he got when he was desperate to cum. With those things in hand she headed back out to see him laying on the bed, cock starting to budge up even more.

“M’gonna need you to relax a bit, can’t get the cock ring on properly if you’re already hard.” She said, laying every down on the bed, he huffed, she was right. “Now, which one do you want to wear?” She asked and he sat up, biting down on his lip at the options laid before him.

“I want that one,” he pointed, to a black dual ring, “With the one for my balls.” He said and she smiled, grabbing it from the bed.

“Was hoping you’d choose that one.” She grinned and he smiled as well.

“Can’t get softer than this.” He mumbled, shutting his eyes in concentration, but he was at a semi now and she shrugged.

“Should be fine, right? Here.” She said handing it to him along with the container of lube. She went back to the closet to leave the other rings where they belonged and to change her outfit, she had this white, sheer silk cami that he loved to see her in because it showed off her boobs, so she put that on and a white lacy thong, inspecting herself for a moment and smiling at her reflection. “Ready, baby?” She asked, wondering out and he bit his lip as soon as he saw her.

“You know I love tha’ tank.” He groaned and she bit down on her lip, coming closer slowly.

“Look at you, already getting so big for me.” She smiled and he nodded, pulling her to straddle him once more, “How many times have you cum in one sitting?” She asked and the thought of going beyond that was exhilarating and nerve racking.

“Three. But we took a break for like 15 minutes for the last one.” He said and she nodded, smiling.

“Well, let’s try a bit more today, yeah?” He nodded, “M’always a good girl for you, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, love, always so good t’me.” He panted and she smiled.

“well, you’re gonna be just as good for me. You know, say the word if you wan’ve to stop and all tha…” she said as she started grinding against his cock and he nodded furiously. “Right so, since this night is about you, I only want to cum once, yeah? You get to choose how you want me to cum for you.” She said and he bit his lip pensively, eying over his girlfriend, his balls tightening up as he watched her nipples strain against the sheer cami she was wearing, “So, how will you have me, baby?” She asked, grinning.

“Ride my cock.” He said and she tutted, “Please.” He added quickly and she smiled, “Shirt off, please?” He asked and she nodded, throwing it over her head and somewhere in the room as she rubbed herself over him. Their lips connected in a sensual and steamy kiss, making her wetter than she already was. His cock felt so good between her legs, she couldn’t wait to feel his larger than normal erection sinking into her.

“Grab your cock for me.” She said and he held himself up, watching with stars in his eyes as she moved her panties to the side. He groaned as the head of his cock made contact with the sticky warmth pooling at her entrance.

“Fuck me, please.” He whispered, the anticipation too great for him, so she just sank down, holding his arms at the sides of his head as his jaw stayed agape and she winced as she adjusted to his girth, loving the stretch and the burn of him being so deep inside of her.

“Baby, you’ve got such a nice, big cock for me. Get me off so good, gonna cum so hard for you and you’re gonna fill me up with it.”

“Yes, fuck please, wanna see you dripping with my cum.” He moaned, hands struggling against hers, wanting to grab her body. But he started grinding down on him, swiveling her hips, creating a delicious rhythm that had her pulsing hard around his cock, “Oh fuck, just like tha’ don’t stop.” He panted, she moaned as she felt his balls right up against her entrance, moaning against his mouth.

“I remember why I love this cock ring.” She whimpered, she could feel it all and it felt like he was knocking the air out of her. She shivered with every single nudge of his cock right into that spot. He knows she’s charge, but he wanted to feel her cum, so he sank lower, flattening his feet against the bed and he started thrusting up into her at a fast pace. Y/N’s mouth fell open, barely audible whines leaving her mouth at the depth he was achieving. She buried her face in his neck as her tummy quivered, started to become overcome by the pleasure. “I’m gonna cum.” She warned and he fucked her harder, “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me!” She mewled as she burst around him, soaking him and squeezing him tighter than he ever recalls and that moment was the start of his undoing.

“Oh fuck, love, M’sorry.” He panted, squeezing her tight as he emptied himself inside of her, as he promised. His hard deep thrusts becoming softer and slower until he was sitting in her as they caught their breaths, “It was a lot.” He warned as she sorted lifting herself off of his cock, still rock hard because of the cock ring.

“S’always a lot.” She smiled, hovering over his lower tummy, unclenching her walls, and they both watched as his cum just dripped out of her in sticky, white, streams and onto his skin. Something about him cumming inside of her made him feel powerful & purposeful he saw her as so much smaller than him, and the fact that his cock could get so deep inside to paint her white with it made him even hornier every time. She kissed him deeply and pulled back with a small pop. “At least two more…” she grinned and he bit his lip, already feeling worn out, but his cock begged to differ.

Harry was still sensitive, so feeling her hand come around his shaft made him twitch hard in her palm and she smiled, kneeling between his parted legs and pressing her lips to his knee, then trailed her tongue down his inner thigh, stroking him over very slowly, her thumb rubbing under the head, making him hiss.

“Y/N, please, s’too sensitive!” He gasped when her tongue dipped into his slit, “Mmm fuck!” He whimpered pathetically as she sank lower, hands coming to squeeze his balls more than they already were by the cock ring he was wearing. The slurping sounds and bobs of her throat as she swallowed around him were building him up quite easily. “Oh fuck!” He groaned, lunging forward, fingers knotting in her hair as she gagged around his cock, “Deeper, fuck, take me deeper, love.” He panted, pushing her head down and she didn’t care for a second that he had sort of taken control.

Y/N loved having his prick between her lips, it was comforting, so she hummed around him with enjoyment, gagging around him, throat squeezing his head once more before pulling off, eyes watery and throat a little sore. She sunk lower and he braced himself knowing what she was about to do, but no matter how prepared he was, when he felt the pressure from her sucking one of his balls into her mouth he moaned such a high pitch that she giggled around him, hand giving long strokes to his cock. He was building up so fast, he needed to cum again.

“M’gonna cum again!” He warned her and she moved back up, sucking at his tip greedily. The sensitivity was causing his toes to curl and his back to arch, panting for air, moans growing louder as she sucked his cum up his shaft, “Yes, baby!” He groaned loudly, “Oh fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” He gasped, hips bucking up into her mouth as he came undone.

He came right down her throat in copious amounts, she swallowed as best as she could, but some still leaked form the corners of her mouth. Popping off him to lick around her lips, cleaning any excess. Y/N grinned at the sight of Harry, chest heaving, fingers still tangled hard in the sheets, knuckles white and lips parted, eyes shut tight, she swore she saw a tear run down the side of his face.

“You okay, baby?” She asked quietly, crawling up, caressing his sweaty forehead and he exhaled hard through his nose, nodding.

“That one jus’took it right outta’ me.” He rasped out, panting hard.

“D’you need your inhaler?” She asked and he shook his head. “Think you can manage one more for me, baby?” He frowned.

“Can try.” He panted and she smiled.

“S’gonna be different though, won’t play with your cock so much.” She reminded and he nodded.

“Please, kiss me.” He whispered and she smiled, leaning down and kissing him gently, he just kinda laid there and she did all the work, she knew he was exhausted in more ways than one. In the few seconds the kiss started getting heated, he started getting grabby and moaning about how hard he was and how it was getting painful, to please make him cum again. So she trailed her kisses down his chest, tummy, his thighs.

“Knees bent for me.” She said softly and he did as he was told, she gave one lick down his cock and to his balls, biting her bottom lip in a bit of hesitation, not sure of how he would react, but in a burst of courage she let her tongue run lower until she felt it at his ribbed, little hole and he moaned, hands bunching up the sheets below him, “Again.” He keened and this turned her on, she’d never heard him moan this way. She grabbed the vibrator, turning it to a medium setting and pressing it right below his balls, and she started eating his ass, licking at him over and over, her other hand stroking his cock, paying extra attention to the head of it until he was squirming and gasping, cumming ribbons down her fist without a warning.

“Holy shit.” He mumbled breathlessly, thrusting up into her hand as he started coming down and she chuckled, kissing at the back of his thigh.

“Didn’t even get to get to the good part.” She said and he moaned as she stroked him over again slowly, he hissed at the sensitivity. His hard cock was now looking a deepy, angry red, throbbing all on its own, twitching sporadically, his balls were drawn up tight and were looking so swollen, “Looks like you’ve got so much more t’give, though…” she said softly, reaching for the lube.

“Can’t. I can’t.” He mumbled over and over and she bit her lip, he had done three… He pushed her to her limits more often than not, but she didn’t want to push him too far.

“I think you can, baby. Just one more for me, a nice, big, load. Last one?” She asked and he moaned when her middle finger hooked into the rim of him and he opened his legs wider, she took that as permission to continue. So she popped the lube cap open and squeezed some onto her middle and index fingers, then using those to rub them at his entrance, he relaxed some at the warmth and she bit her lip as she brought to the front of her mind all the diagrams she had looked at, all the porns, all the ‘how to’s’ she looked up because she has wanted to try this for a while and now here he was, ready for her to make him cum like never before.

“Ready, baby?” She asked in a soft voice, a bit unsure and shaky in her tone, but he hummed.

“Yeah.” He whispered and she gnawed on her bottom lip in concentration as she nudged the tip of her index finger into the entrance making him whine some, the ring of muscles contracting around her fingertip. “Need to relax, baby. Relax.” She coached him softly, stilling her movement. He had done this specific thing to her various times, he knew the drill, so he took a deep breath to ease up, and once she felt him relax she pushed a bit further in, keeping her finger up against the front wall, going slowly until she felt the more raised area, pressing against it and he moaned loudly, trying to close his legs, tightening up around her finger and she grinned, pressing them open again and pulling back a bit before sinking it in again, knowing where to go this time and loving how his back arched when she rubbed against his prostate.

“Oh fuck, fuck harder. Rub me harder!” He groaned, grinding his bum towards her hand.

“Y’need to slow down, H. Don’t wanna hurt you.” She reminded, going for that spot again and loving how he quivered beneath her, “Want you t’cum for me.” She said, pushing her finger in at a faster pace, rubbing against him a bit faster.

“Fuck, fuck, I can’t!” he whimpered.

“Please, H. Jus’ one more for me, be a good boy for me. Know you can give me one more.” She encouraged. His thighs and tummy were quaking, his orgasm building fast, chest started to get sweaty and just as he was getting to the edge she pulled her finger out and he groaned in disappointment, his balls pulsing with need, desperate to cum.

“Y/N!” He whined through gritted teeth and she giggled.

“Don’t worry, just working you up a bit.” She said softly. Now that she knew exactly what she was doing she peaked up at him, all pouty and face covered in a deep pink blush. “C’mere, over me.” She said and his brows furrowed.

“What?” He asked and she sighed, grabbing the lube and then sitting up and then laying on her back and parting her legs.

“Kneel between my legs, like you’re gonna fuck me.” She said, pulling him forward and he did so, “This leg up…” she patted at his right thigh until his foot was planted on the bed and she grinned, “Want youth make a mess on me.” She moaned, slipping her finger back in with ease and he groaned. Now she could see the way his eyes rolled back and how his jaw tensed before falling open as she rubbed right against his prostate, his orgasm building quickly.

“Fuck, Y/N, m’getting close!” He moaned softly, his cock twitching and her legs open as he got closer to her body.

“Stroke your cock for me, H.” She ordered and he did so. He moaned as he squeezed at his tip, fisting at the head rhythmically, building his orgasm further. She drew her finger in and out faster, matching the pace of his strokes, watching in awe as his eyes fluttered shut and brows furrowed, feeling him tighten around her finger. “That’s it, such a good boy for me, gonna make a miss on my tits, H?” She egged on and he hummed, “C’mon, give me one more, baby. Know you can, jus’one more, you’re right there.” She whispered.

“Mmmm, fuck, fuck! Oh fuck!” He grunted loudly as the first burst started dripping out of him, she moaned, feeling the warmth pooling right beneath her boobs, thrusting her finger as he stroked his cock faster.

“Yes, fuck, that’s it, cum for me, baby. All over me.” She encouraged, and suddenly there was more, the light streams shot up and painted her skin, while the thicker ones dripped out of him, pooling right beneath him at her tummy. His tummy was quivering and he was moaning the whole way through, thrusting into his hand, the other hand squeezing hard at her thigh, until the last drop left his tip. He was seeing stars and couldn’t help but let himself fall to her side, panting hard, balls still twitching, cock taking a while to soften because of the ring he had on and he was sweaty and spent.

“So much fucking cum. Made such a big mess on me.” She moaned at the warm, milky streams painting her skin.

“That was amazing.” He panted and she smiled.

“M’gonna clean off and I’ll be back.” She assured him. Standing to go the bathroom, cleaning herself off and hurrying back to cuddle him.

Harry was laid on the bed still panting, cock barely starting to soften up and she pressed up behind him, kissing his bare shoulder and he hummed leaning into her as she started playing with his hair.

“Did so good today, H. You’re such a good boy.” Y/N praised, making his heart thud softly.

“Y’blew me away, love. M’set for a while now.” He yawned and she giggled.

“Cute, you think you’re off the hook.” She giggled and he scoffed.

“You’re gonna kill me, lovie.”

“You can handle it.” She hummed, kissing the side of his bed and they fell into a silence.

“Don’wanna go.” He mumbled sadly and she bit her lip.

“You don’t mean that. S’work, you’ve made new friends, you’re having so much fun! S’okay to be a little home sick, but knowing you, you’d come home and be bored out of your mind.” She explained and he smiled, she wasn’t wrong.

“Know me so well.” He hummed, “Maybe you should come with me?” He asked hopefully.

“Oh H, I can visit sometime, but you need this. You’re doing important things.” She reminded and he groaned. She did know him too well.

“Well I miss you all the time and I know I can’t always call, but I am thinking of you.” He assured and she hummed.

“I know.”

[thedisneychef]

What To Do With Leftover Mashed Potatoes Recipe

Leftover mashed potatoes are a common problem in many households. But don't worry - there's no need to let them go to waste! With just a few extra ingredients, you can create delicious and nutritious meals out of those leftover spuds. This article will provide some amazing recipes that make the most of your remaining mashed potatoes. So if you're stuck for ideas on what to do with all your leftovers, read on and get inspired! Potato Pancakes I love having leftover mashed potatoes, because they open up so many possibilities! One of my favorite recipes to make with them is potato pancakes. All you need is a bowl of mashed potatoes and some eggs – it's that simple! I usually add in some grated cheese for extra flavor, but this step can be skipped if desired. To begin making the potato pancakes, all you have to do is mix the ingredients together until everything is evenly distributed. Then start scooping spoonfuls out onto a hot skillet or pan with melted butter over medium heat. Fry each side until it's golden brown before flipping it over. Once both sides are cooked through, remove from the heat and serve warm. These delicious little morsels go great as a snack on their own or served alongside your favorite breakfast foods like bacon and eggs. You could even get creative and shape them into waffles or croquettes instead of traditional pancakes! No matter how you prepare them, these tasty treats will surely satisfy your cravings. Shepherd's Pie I love having leftover mashed potatoes to make Shepherd's Pie. It's great because you just need a few ingredients like ground beef, carrots, onions, frozen peas and cheese. To prepare it, brown the beef, add the vegetables and seasonings, then layer the beef mixture and mashed potatoes in a baking dish. Bake it until it's lightly browned and bubbly. I like to serve it with a side of steamed broccoli and a salad. It's great for dinner and makes for a delicious leftovers lunch. Ingredients When it comes to making Shepherd's Pie, the star of the show is often the mashed potatoes. It can be easy to make too much, so what do you do with any leftovers? Here are some ideas for using up your leftover mashed potatoes! One great way to use them is by storing them in an air-tight container or jar in the fridge. This keeps them fresh and makes sure they don't go off before you have a chance to use them. You could also freeze them in portions if you want to save time when cooking later on. There are lots of different types of potato varieties that work well for mashing, such as Yukon Golds, Russets and even Sweet Potatoes - all of which will taste delicious after being made into a Shepherd's Pie topping. It's worth experimenting with flavors too - adding spices like rosemary or chives can really bring out their flavor and add some zing. With these simple tips, you're guaranteed never to waste your leftover mashed potatoes again! Preparation When it comes to preparing Shepherd's Pie, the key is meal planning and storage. Before you start cooking, take a look at your fridge and cupboards - do you have all the ingredients? If not, make sure you pick up everything you need before starting. Once that's done, think about how much of each ingredient you'll need so that there aren't any leftovers. It can be an easy dish to make too much of, which is why having good storage tips are essential! To save time later on when cooking other dishes, consider freezing your leftover mashed potatoes in portions or storing them in an air-tight container or jar in the fridge. With these simple steps and a bit of pre-planning, you're guaranteed to get creative with your meals without worrying about wasting food. Serving Ideas Once you've got your Shepherd's Pie all cooked up, it's time to think about how you want to serve it. If you feel like being creative, why not try adding a side of baked fries or scalloped potatoes? It'll give the dish an extra kick and is sure to impress anyone around the dining table. And if that wasn't enough, you can also top off your meal with some freshly chopped herbs or a sprinkle of cheese - it's totally up to you! No matter what route you go down, one thing's for certain: this hearty comfort food will be the star of the show! Grilled Cheese And Mashed Potato Sandwich I absolutely love using leftover mashed potatoes to make this delicious Grilled Cheese and Mashed Potato Sandwich! It's an amazing mix of crunchy and creamy textures, with just the right amount of melted cheese. Plus, it takes no time at all to put together – making it a great go-to meal for busy days. If you have more leftovers than sandwiches can handle, don't worry – there are still plenty of options. Baked casserole dishes like shepherd's pie or tuna casseroles are always comforting and easy to throw together. Or why not fry up some croquettes? All you need is a bit of mashed potato, eggs, flour and seasoning – plus any extra ingredients you fancy! No matter what your plans are for those leftover mashed potatoes, they're sure to be transformed into something extraordinary! Loaded Potato Skins I'm sure I'm not the only one who loves mashed potatoes, and unfortunately we often have leftovers. So what do you do with them? Well, why not turn your leftover mashed potatoes into loaded potato skins! This is a great way to use up those extra spuds while also creating an impressive dish that's full of flavor. To make this delicious side dish, first preheat your oven to 375°F. Then take four large russet potatoes and slice them in half lengthwise before scooping out the insides leaving about 1/4 inch thick walls on each skin. Place these shells onto a greased baking sheet and bake for 15 minutes until they are crisp enough to hold their shape when filled. Once cooked, spoon in some of your leftover mashed potatoes along with plenty of casserole toppings like cheese, bacon bits, chives or whatever else takes your fancy. Pop back in the oven for 20-25 more minutes until everything is nice and hot and bubbly then serve piping hot as a tasty snack or side dish - Yum! Mashed Potato Soup Have you ever wondered what to do with those leftover mashed potatoes? Well, I'm here to tell you that there are plenty of delicious options! From a simple mashed potato dip to an indulgent potato casserole, the possibilities are endless. Let's explore some of these recipes and see how we can use up our leftovers! The first recipe I want to share is my favorite: Mashed Potato Dip. This dish takes only 10 minutes to prepare and is sure to be a crowd-pleaser at any gathering. All you need are some cream cheese, sour cream, diced chives, garlic powder, salt, pepper, bacon bits (optional) and your leftover mashed potatoes. Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl until smooth and creamy – it’s that easy! Serve this tasty dip with crackers or chips for extra crunch. Next on the list is a hearty potato casserole. Start by preheating your oven to 350°F (175°C). In a large skillet over medium heat cook 1/2 cup chopped onions in 2 tablespoons butter until translucent; add 1 cup cooked broccoli florets and mix through before taking off the heat. Add 2 cups of mashed potatoes together with 3/4 cup shredded cheese (cheddar or mozzarella work great), 1/3 cup milk, 1 teaspoon dried oregano leaves and season with salt & pepper as desired. Transfer mixture into greased baking dish and top with remaining shredded cheese before baking for 30 minutes or until golden brown on top. Enjoy your deliciously cheesy potato casserole warm from the oven! No matter which option you choose, both dishes will make great use of those leftover mashed potatoes while still being packed full of flavor! So don't let them go to waste - whip up one of these recipes today and enjoy every last bite! Frequently Asked Questions How Long Can Mashed Potatoes Be Stored In The Refrigerator? Storing mashed potatoes in the refrigerator is a great way to extend their shelf life and prevent food waste. Generally, you can store them for up to four days if they are properly sealed and stored in an airtight container. If you take into consideration food safety guidelines, such as making sure your mashed potatoes have been cooled before storing in the fridge, then you can rest assured that they will last longer. For maximum freshness, it's best to use up any leftover mashed potatoes within two or three days of cooking them. What Are The Nutritional Benefits Of Mashed Potatoes? Mashed potatoes are a delicious side dish packed with nutritional benefits. They're full of starch, which is an important source of energy for your body. When eaten in moderation, mashed potatoes can also be part of a healthy diet – just remember to pay attention to portion size! One serving of mashed potatoes contains about 40% of the daily recommended value for vitamin C and B6. Additionally, it's a good source of potassium, iron, and magnesium too. Can Mashed Potatoes Be Reheated Safely? Yes, mashed potatoes can be safely reheated! The best way to do it is in the oven or microwave. You may want to add some additional seasonings when you heat them up again, like butter and herbs, for extra flavor. When freezing leftover mashed potatoes, make sure they’re stored in an airtight container so they don’t absorb any odd flavors from your freezer. Reheating frozen mashed potatoes requires a bit more time than fresh ones – just pop them in the oven until they are heated through. What Other Ingredients Can I Add To Mashed Potatoes To Make Them More Flavorful? Mashed potatoes are a delicious comfort food, but they can be easily made more flavorful with the addition of some simple ingredients. To give your mashed potatoes an extra kick, try adding herbs like thyme or rosemary, bacon, onions, garlic and cheese. You could also stir in some butter, sour cream, salt and pepper for even more depth of flavor. Vegetables such as peas or carrots work great too! Experiment with different combinations to find what fits your taste best! Are Mashed Potatoes Suitable For A Vegan Diet? Yes, mashed potatoes are suitable for vegan diets! If you're looking to make a plant based version of your favorite side dish, all you need to do is use dairy free substitutes instead of cow's milk and butter. You can opt for non-dairy milks such as oat or almond milk, along with non-dairy margarine or coconut oil. With these simple swaps, you'll have a delicious vegan friendly meal that everyone can enjoy. Conclusion It's great to have leftover mashed potatoes, but what do you do with them? The good news is that there are lots of options. You can enjoy a nutritious snack or meal by simply reheating the potatoes and adding ingredients like herbs, cheeses or vegetables. Or you can mix in some vegan substitutes such as tofu crumbles or plant-based cheese for even more flavor. Whatever you choose, your leftover mashed potatoes will be transformed into something delicious! So go ahead and get creative - turn those leftovers into something special that everyone will love! With just a few extra steps, you'll be able to make use of those mashed potatoes in no time at all. Enjoy! Read the full article

[reneehearts]

Not doing this as an ask...because no one ever asks me any 😂

angel; do you have a nickname? Yes: Nee, Renizzle, Nee Nee, Doots

awe; how old are you? 27

baby; favorite color? Purple (I’d you couldn’t tell lol)

bloop; spirit animal? Monkey

blossom; favorite book/movie/song? Water for Elephants/Remember the Titans/Props and Mayhem

blush; what was your stuffed animal as a child? Lumpy! He was a lil pastel horse

breeze; most precious childhood memory? Working in the garden with my Papa

bright; mermaids or fairies? Fairies

bubbles; do you have a best friend? I have a few

buttercup; showers or baths? Showers

butterfly; dream destination? Key West or Bahamas...anywhere tropical

buttons; are you religious or spiritual? More spiritual

calm; favorite scent? Pine/Christmas trees

candlelight; what did you dream about last night? I had a dream I was freaking out because I didn’t do my essay for class and it was due in like an hour lol

charming; have you ever been in love? Yes

cozy; eye/hair color? Hazel-ish/blonde

cuddly; what’s your favorite time period? 20s, 90s

cupcake; favorite flower/plant? I have a few favorite flowers: Sunflower, Daisy, Tulip, Lilac/Evergreen tree

cute; what did you get on your last birthday? Jewelry and a designer purse

cutie pie; most precious item you own? My dog

cutsie; what makes you happy? My puppy, ice cream, family/good friends

daisies; describe a moment when you felt free. I don’t know if I ever really have

daydream; how do you want to be remembered? Kind, generous, strong, independent

daylight; favorite album of all time? Collide with the Sky - Pierce the Veil

dear; zodiac sign? Leo

delightful; concerts or museums? Concerts

dimples; have you ever written a letter? Of course

dobby; dream job? Ice cream/candy store owner

doll; how do you like to dress? Cute but casual; leggings, oversized sweaters, bralettes

dovey; any paranormal/magical experiences? I’ve had premonition dreams that have come true

dreams; do you want or have any tattoos? I have 8 and probably want more at some point

drizzle; do you believe in aliens? I’m not really sure

euphoric; talk about someone you love. My best friend: she would do anything for me, we have a bond through our ED that is so strong. It’s hard to explain how we are so close, we are very different and come from different lifestyles but she means the world to me. We don’t need to talk everyday to know that we are there for each other.

fairy; do you have a pet? I have my own dog; an Australian Shepherd and my parents have 4 dogs

fluffy; ocean or mountain? Ocean

forever; where do you feel time stop? Work

froglet; are you a good plant owner? Nope

garden; how many languages do you know? English fluently and then a little French and very little italian

gem; who are your favorite tumblrs? I don’t have any “favorites” I just like tumblrs that post relatable and pretty things

giggles; what is your aesthetic of choice? Unicorn/fairy dust/pastel

glittery; do you like anons? why/why not? I wouldn’t mind them but I never get them haha

glow; list the top 5 things you like about yourself. My smile, my hair, my kindness to others, my work ethic and my abs (since I work pretty hard on them lol)

heart; silk or lace? Lace

honey; coffee or tea? how do you take it? Coffee with 1% milk

hugsy; do you enjoy people watching or bird watching more? why? People because you can make up life stories about them and create scenarios. Bird watching would be fun for a little while but boring after a half hour

hunnybunch; what sounds help you sleep? Fan

jewel; what’s your favorite kind of weather? Hot and sunny!

jiggly; what do you usually like to do on weekends? Have leisurely breakfasts on Saturday and Sunday morning, go to the city either Friday or Saturday and go on adventures, shopping, watch tv and relaxing

joy; do you laugh loudly or giggle more? Laugh out loud

kinky; do you blush easily? Nah not really

kisses; what romantic cliché do you wish for most? Grand gestures once in a while

kitty; what’s your favorite time of the day? Breakfast time

ladybug; what’s your favorite artist to listen to when you’re sad? I don’t really have an artist I have various songs by a lot of different people

love; what is your favorite season and why? Summer because I love the heat and being able to wear shorts and flip flops and not wearing 7 layers

lovey; what is your favorite flavor of macaron and ice cream? Macaron: I haven’t had too many but probably either chocolate or cotton candy. Ice cream: a mocha flavor with either brownie hits, Oreo pieces, or chocolate covered espresso beans

magic; what are five flaws you have? I can get mad easily, I’m not patient, I have ridiculous eating habits, I can be lazy and I have trouble communicating how I’m feeling

moonlight; do you prefer soft pastels, warm neutrals, or cool darks? Soft pastels

munchkin; what do you look for in your significant other? Humor, good looks, kindness, generosity, optimistic

paddywack; how would you describe a perfect date? It depends on the season! Hah

pebbles; how do you spend free time by yourself? On the internet, social media, playing with my puppy, working out, listening to music, watching tv.

precious; what is something valuable that you learned in your life? Always be kind and respectful because why not?

pretty; do you like to cook or bake more? Bake

prince; how would you describe your handwriting? Neat but after I’ve been writing for a while it turns into a print/script writing

princess; do you play any instruments? if not, are there any you wish you could play? I can play the flute but I haven’t in a while

prinky; how do you relieve stress? Snuggle with my puppy

pumpkin; what is your favourite kind of fruit/vegetable? Raspberry/asparagus

rainbow; what was the last line of the last book you read? I have no clue

roses; what is the most significant event in your life so far? I really have no idea

smile; what is one thing that has greatly affected you? My gramma’s death

shine; art or music? Music

shimmer; do animals tend to like you? Yes

smitten; do you collect anything? Pins

smoochies; how many pillows do you sleep with? 1 tempur pedic type pillow then a small pillow on the side

snuggle; what is your favourite candy? Chocolate specifically dark

snuggly; do you have a camera? if so, what kind? I have the camera on my phone

sparkle; do you wear jewelry? Yes, rings, bracelets and earrings

spooky; sunrise or sunset? Sunset

sprinkles; do you like to listen to music with headphones or no headphones? No headphones

starlight; what was your favourite show as a child? As a young kid: Barney, as a teen: Lizzie McGuire/Hannah Montana

soft; describe your favourite spot in your house. Either my bed or the couch

soothe; digital or vinyl? Digital

squeezed; who do you miss right now? A few people

sugary; what traits do you value most in friends? Loyalty, kindness, humor

sunshine; do you prefer for things to be practical or aesthetically pleasing? It depends on the situation but usually practical

sweet; do you find it easy to open up? Depends on the person honestly

sweetie; do you like kids? if so, do you ever want to have any? I do like kids and I want them but I’m not ready yet

thimble; is there somebody you look up to? who are they? My old boss even tho I have lost touch with her

toot; what is something you find unique about yourself? How observant I am

tootsie; what kind of friend are you? Loving, generous, loyal

treasure; what was something that made you smile today? A student that said hi to me

velvet; are you an early bird or a night owl? Unfortunately an early bird

whiffle; if you could have a magical power, what would it be? Teleportation

whimsical; do you prefer doing stuff at home or going out? Depends but usually home especially in the winter when it’s freezing

whiskers; do you usually wear makeup? Nope

wiggly; are you a messy or tidy person? Mostly tidy

wispy; do you like the place where you grew up? do you think you will live there when you get older? I do love the place I grew up and I’ve moved away and now I’m back, but I just can’t take the cold weather and how expensive it is to sustain yourself here

wobbly; have you ever wished upon a star? I think once

Source: luneve

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Complementary (Collins x OC) Chapter 36: Bed

Summary: A doctor’s appointment later and it’s confirmed: the Collins are expecting a new member of the family. Genevieve is excited but her hormones have been telling her otherwise.

AN: Thank you all for being patient over this series. This chapter and the rest of them are gonna be hella long. Mostly because I don’t want to say goodbye to this series but I wanna give the details Genevieve and Jack deserve. This is one of the interactive fics so if you wanna explore more of the pregnancy stuff, inbox me!

Previous Chapter     Masterlist     Gif Credit     Next Chapter

Jack awoke to a clatter and a scuffling from downstairs. His arm patted the space beside him and discovered it was empty. While his bed was warmly enticing, his curiosity and desire to see his wife safe and sound overruled and he grappled with the sheets to free himself. Feet stepping into slippers, arms tugging on a robe and knotting it in place, Jack trudged out of the room, down the steps, to investigate the noises.

From the entrance of the kitchen, he spied Genevieve by the fridge. She too was wearing her robe over her pyjamas. One arm was cradling a bowl and the other was a blur as she stuffed something into her mouth with gusto. With a sigh, Jack stepped into the kitchen.

“Love, why are you up?”

Genevieve looked up without alarm at her husband and said, “I got hungry.” Then she licked the back of the spoon, “I forgot how much I loved this pudding.”

“Ginny, it’s half three,” Jack rubbed one eye with a sleeve-covered hand.

Shrugging, she spoke around the spoon, “You can go back to bed. I’m not stopping you.”

Sighing again, Jack stepped forwards, his slippers slapping against the tiles, “Come on, you can eat your trifle in the morning.”

“It is the morning though.” Genevieve ate another spoonful as he touched the arm that coddled the bowl of trifle. Seeing Jack’s exhausted expression, she put reluctantly back her food in the fridge. A muttered thanks and a kiss on her temple guided her back upstairs to bed where she suddenly felt the full effect of being awake at three in the AM.

“Baby’s a hungry lil’ bad word, giving me cravings at this time of night,” She rubbed her hand over the slight bump as she scolded it. Adoringly, Jack placed his hand atop hers and squeezed before he helped her up the stairs.

“She’s gonna be a big girl,” He said with pride.

Genevieve frowned with confusion, “She?”

“Yeah, I bet Farrier that it’s gonna be a girl.”

“… What did you bet?”

Opening the bedroom door, Jack went a little red as he felt the weight of his words, “We kinda have to name our baby after him if it’s a boy.”

“Jack!”

“It’s not the end of the world! Fifty-fifty chance!”

It took a while for Genevieve to get comfortable in the bed again, wriggling under the covers and flipping the pillow to cool her neck. Then she made her commentary on her husband’s life choices, “I guess Edward isn’t the worst name ever.”

Jack shifted onto his side, facing her as her eyes drooped shut. He leant in and kissed her softly before whispering, “Happy one year.”

A little giddy on sleep deprivation, Genevieve joyfully remembered their reunion in her old flat, the scrubbed clean countertop he lifted her onto, the whisk she’d forgotten to pick up off the floor until the morning after, the bed so they had wrapped themselves in each other’s arms to fit onto it.

She teased in the tone of a Southern Belle, “Oh Jack, kiss me like you did when we were reunited!”

“In a few hours, maybe,” He raised his brows without opening his eyes. Not content with this, Genevieve kissed him again. Luckily Jack was all for going back on his word. His hand lazily pushed upward to touch her cheek then sliding onto her tummy to graze the skin with his knuckles. Humming, Genevieve tried not to flinch away from his ticklish touch until she was satisfied with her bedtime kiss, pushing Jack onto his back so she could lean over him. They shared a giggle, though they did not break the kiss, and they wouldn’t fall asleep for another ten minutes, ending with a cuddle built around Genevieve’s comfort.

Their anniversary blended with falling leaves and bad weather. Not that the couple minded. Genevieve slept through half of it while Jack went to work. When he returned to an indoor picnic by the fire, pillows and warmth surrounding them, they spent their evening loving on each other with kisses, sandwiches, and an early night.

The late night cravings only increased but it meant that Genevieve could make a dent in decorating the nursery. However Christmas arrived sooner than anticipated and before they knew it, Genevieve and Jack were staying over Christmas Eve at the Hastings’ farm, sleeping in Genevieve’s old room which Jack was enthralled to see. Like a child in a sweet shop, he spun around in the box room and fell onto the bed. Then he leapt up again and explored the chest of toys, the boxes under the bed, the wardrobe. The latter was where he found the best part of the visit: Genevieve’s old clothes.

“Look at your little dresses!” He squeaked, holding up one she wore as a six year old, “And these dungarees! Our baby could borrow them!” Genevieve watched from her seat on the bed, endeared by this little spectacle. Especially when he found her baby shoes, paired off in a dusty box.

Starting to look a little more convex, Genevieve found herself wanting to sit or sleep more than usual. Her leg was not straining as much as it had done but it still caused a tad more than her average baseline of pain. Her cane was annoyingly becoming a necessity for her movement. At least it gave her an excuse at least to get out of being fawned over by her sister.

“You’re positively glowing!” Lilly had said upon greeting Genevieve, to which she had responded: “no, that’s just sweat and acne”.

Bluntness aside, Genevieve spent a majority of her time on the sofa with James on the floor in front of her, showing off all his presents to her. Aside from when they were alone, Jack was rather quiet during their stay. His voice’s volume dropped drastically as soon as they stepped out of the bedroom, even more so when he played with James. Very carefully did he phrase his words, as if he were being stalked by Genevieve’s parents for the duration of his visit. The only time he really made an appearance was when the presents were being unwrapped. A majority of them were baby clothes; he elatedly played with the tiny socks and measured the clothes over the bump while James giggled hysterically in the background.

“Baby’s got a bit more growing to go. Keep ‘em cooking, love.”

“At least there’s a baby in here. What’s your excuse?” 

“Apple pie.”

They left just as James was heard asking Lilly where the baby came from. A hasty escape to the crazy Collins’ house was something Genevieve was grateful for. The only thing she wasn’t prepared for was Cora in the throngs of her Christmas organising frenzy. Silence took over the car but she was fine with this break as was Jack. It gave him ample opportunity to hold his wife’s hand without a watchful parent in the corner. As if a hand holding would do anything more than what they had already done. She was already pregnant for Christ’s sake.

Switching off the engine, Jack looked at her. His eyes strayed back to the bump then her lower lip, parted from the top as she bit the inside of her mouth, a nervous habit. He leant over, kissed her cheek, drew away with a red face after admitting his guilty pleasure, “You look so adorable when you worry, really are glowing.”

Genevieve’s eyes squinted at him, but her smile betrayed her as she told him, “Shut up.”

Her slow exit from the car, and Jack’s subsequent assistance in helping her out, gave the opportunity to kiss him in return. It only lasted a moment for Cora flung open the front door and sprang upon the couple with a bear hug. How she managed to wrap her arms around them both, neither knew, but the hug was pleasant enough before being swept into the house for another dinner, after Jack ferried in presents of course.

Jack’s father was enamoured with the presents Genevieve had already received. His thick hands carefully pawed over the outfits with the twinkle of a grandfather-to-be in his eye. He only stopped staring at it when he went to look over the family photo album, his eyes misty with mirth. Genevieve happily revisited the album, in tears well before it was revealed that a photo of herself, Jack, Ethel, Toby, and Karen playing cricket that October gone was pasted on the latest page. It took a minute for her to calm herself enough to say “thank you” coherently and she accepted her own bowl of pudding graciously – and with more tears. It was an understatement to say the still implemented rationing had been tough on them all so to receive an entire bowl of pudding to oneself was a godsend.

Farrier was about for a couple of hours. His puppy Westley came too, his brown fur wiggling between all these new people then sticking his butt down beside Genevieve. Obliging to his silent request, she scratched the German Shepherd between the ears. With a disgusting jumper on, Farrier sat next to Genevieve as she cuddled into the dozing Jack’s arm, bowl in her lap.

“Jack told you ‘bout the bet then?” He cleared his throat.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to follow through if it is a boy.”

“What happens if they’re a girl, what are the stakes?” Genevieve asked.

“Lifetime of babysitting,” Jack piped up from under the paper crown that acted as a sleeping mask.

“I mean we’ll probably rope you into it anyway, so don’t worry about it,” Genevieve shrugged and, when Farrier made to protest, she leant against his arm instead with fluttering eyelashes. He silenced himself, taking a sip of his mulled wine, then allowed himself to be taken in too by the tiny socks from Ethel.

Once that bowl full was in her belly, Genevieve ate some leftovers then immediately fell asleep. As bedtime approached, Jack found her, snoring a little, on his old bed. His tattered teddy snuggled in the crook of her arm, her new pyjamas that Jack had gifted her that morning just loose enough on her figure to be comfortable for her and the baby. He teetered on the edge of the bed and embraced his wife, falling into slumber almost as quickly as she had done.

Winter rolled into spring without severe illness. Genevieve’s tummy ballooned up between doctor’s appointments. Her penultimate meeting was a little tense since she had been experiencing a lot of pain on the underside of her belly. The entire trek from the car to the waiting room then to the office, Jack held her hand and whispered comforting words to ground her. Tummy measured, listened to, temperature taken, nothing came from the doctor.

“Is the baby ok?” She finally asked. Her voice was so soft that the doctor didn’t register it. Jack repeated it, still holding her hand with his chin lifted up from beside hers.

“Heartbeat is steady, growth is fine,” The doctor washed his hands, “Your baby is perfectly healthy.”

When he didn’t say anything else, Genevieve prompted him, “And the pain?”

“Normal.”

Of course, Genevieve pushed for more than that and a deeper explanation of the pain, Jack doing the same, but there was nothing (apparently) that the doctor could do. The appointment closed without providing the security they were hoping for.

The car ride home, Genevieve played with a soft blanket she’d found in a charity shop on the way back. Its corners were frayed but it was so comforting with its gentle touch.

In meantime, Jack was brainstorming what else to do with the day. It was only five. There was time to do something else, something to take their minds off things. Nothing spectacular, something free, an activity that wouldn’t cause Genevieve too much pain, there weren’t many options for them. Then the perfect idea sprung into his mind as he pulled on the car’s brake

“Do you wanna go out?”

“Yeah, please.”

A pleasant evening in the back garden of the Collins’ household, Genevieve was lying on her back on a picnic blanket, reading aloud “The Great Gatsby” to Jack who was curled up at her side. Dresses were no longer an option for Genevieve so she opted for wider trousers. The lower section of her shirt buttons and her trousers were undone, exposed the swollen stomach for Jack to rub the new blanket across, tracing the stretch marks. In turn, she lightly scratched her nails back and forth across the back of his head with idleness. His hair was a little too long, a haircut overdue. Her other hand being occupied with the novel; her cane lay in the grass above her head, out of sight and mind.

“‘There was music from my neighbour's house through the summer nights. In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars’... Love, that tickles.”

Looking down at her swollen belly, Jack stopped moving the corner of the blanket, resting it there on her skin instead, “Sorry, Ginny.” He smiled innocently.

Genevieve smiled back knowingly before continuing: “‘At high tide in the afternoon I watched his guests diving from the tower of his raft, or taking the sun on the hot sand of his beach while his two motor−boats slit the waters of the Sound, drawing aquaplanes over cataracts of foam. On weekends his Rolls’ – ah!”

She gasped, her book dropping beside her. Jack shot up, his hand still cupping his belly. They exchanged a look of surprise.

“You felt that?” Jack whispered. On cue, a small kick came from underneath her skin, delivered right to Jack’s right palm, and he squealed, “The baby!”

Pressing his lips against the skin, he spoke excitedly to the bump, “Hey baby, it’s me, your da! Can you hear me?” Another kick made Genevieve groan then giggle.

“Hey, sweetie,” Jack rested his chin there so the baby could feel as well as hear him talk, “You’re kicking again, it’s been a while! Don’t worry, you’ll be out soon. Just another couple o’ months and I’ll be able to hold you. You’re gonna love it and you’re gonna love your ma.”

Between trying not to cry at Jack’s baby voice and staring pointedly at her stomach, Genevieve said,  “Baby, I love you too. But can you let me keep reading to your da?”The baby seemed to understand and stopped kicking her so she sallied forth: “Thank you, baby. ‘On weekends his Rolls-Royce became an omnibus, bearing parties to and from the city between nine in the morning and long past midnight’ – ow… ‘while his station wagon scampered like a brisk yellow bug to meet all trains.’ Oh!”

“Our baby’s gonna be a boxer,” Jack cooed, rolling another kiss onto the skin to soothe the kicking from the outside.

“Can she practise when she’s out of me?” Genevieve winced, “I love her but it’s rather difficult to concentrate.”

“So you DO think it’s a girl?”

 She scowled in jest at her husband before continuing with her read-through:

“‘And on Mondays eight servants, including an extra gardener, toiled all day with mops and scrubbing−brushes and hammers  and garden−shears, repairing the ravages of the night before. Every Friday five crates of oranges and lemons arrived from a fruiterer in New York every Monday…’ God, I really want some orange juice.”

The baby kicked again.

“She agrees. She needs her strength.” Genevieve gave into Jack’s daughter conspiracy. He helped her to stand, and bundled up the rug while Genevieve buttoned up her trousers and made her way back to the house. Once the rug was packed away, Jack helped her upstairs.

Genevieve swerved left with new energy (on slow release) to get to the nursery. It looked mildly sparse. Unfortunately, decorating was placed on hold due to Genevieve’s lack of employment. Funds instead went to the mortgage that was almost crippling. Handmade bedding, old toys and second hand furniture were what they made do with and Genevieve regularly assured Jack that it all added to the rural theme of their home.

“Plus, the baby won’t know about that kind of thing for six months at least,” was her final attempt at reassurance - for herself as well as Jack. If she could, she would give the world to her baby. But the world was shite and the baby deserved more.

Looking about the room with tired looking wallpaper, Genevieve searched for where to put the blanket. Finally she hobbled over to the crib and tucked it in, smoothing out a ripple satisfied. Jack kissed her cheek, hugging her carefully from behind with his hands finding the baby bump again like a ­­­­­key to a lock.

Back into their bedroom, Jack waited patiently for Genevieve to get changed. Today seemed like a good day, in his opinion at least, but he wanted to make sure in case -

“Jack? Would you mind?”

“Of course,” and he was already down on one knee, untying one of her shoe’s laces. Eased each one off, he peeled off her socks too while Genevieve changed her top half, freeing her skin with unrestrained relief. Her sighs were abruptly cut off with a groan. Her shirt was clutched to her chest and her back curved.

“It’s fine,” She took caution as she stood up and pulled on her nightgown, stretching it over her belly, “Just hurts.”

Watching as she stepped out of her trousers, Jack left her clothes on the chair tucked in the corner. It took him extensively less effort and pain to change into his pyjamas. With his free time, he sat next to Genevieve, waiting for her to look at him before he spoke.

“I’m so proud of you.” 

It was a triggering sentence. Genevieve’s eyes instantly grew teary. A hand began cradling her head, and Jack squeezed her shoulder, kissing her forehead before looking down at the bump, “And we can’t wait to meet you, baby.”

“Thanks… Kinda want that orange juice now please.”

Letting loose a high-pitched giggle, Jack nodded, “Grab you some now.”

On the way down, he decided to brew himself some tea. He could always trade with Genevieve if she changed her mind and wanted his drink instead. As the water boiled, he opened the can, poured it out in full. Then he sped through making his own beverage for he didn’t want to keep his wife waiting.

Genevieve was passed out with the book on her tummy, the spine of the paperback novel bent. Her tags – his old ones – were on the bedside table, her wedding ring also on the link for it wouldn’t fit on her finger anymore. Taking a sip from his tea, Jack placed her glass adjacent to her tags. Then he removed the book from her tummy to let it join the others on the bedside table. He was pleased that she had gotten to sleep so quickly; he prayed that he would be able to do the same.

Not that slumber ever lasted long these days. Waking up to a heat she was not comfortable with, Genevieve winced and turned her head to face the window. One eye barely cracked open. It was dark so she had the excuse to not get up just yet. With a long exhale, she closed her eyes properly and tried to force herself into sleep so she wouldn’t spiral into self doubt again or wake up Jack.

“Hey, baby.”

Damn, caught out already. She sighed again. Oh well, maybe it was time to get up. But just as she went to reply to this term of endearment, she heard Jack speak again.

“It’s ok, just your da here.”

Oh.

“Catching up. You were giving your ma some grief today. I promise I’ll get your aunts and uncle to give you lessons on self-defence lessons if you tone it down. Your ma deserves a rest.”

He shifted beside her and soon Jack had his cheek flattened against the skin, “You know, I reckon you’re gonna like going to the park. It’s where I took your ma for our first date. I hadn’t seen her in five years but she was more beautiful than ever. We were cloud-gazing and making out in the rain – I’m getting this in now because you can’t protest about it – and another time we went on the swings. You’ll like the swings too. Sure, you’ll have to grow a bit of course before you can use them on your own but you can sit in my lap. I’ll be gentle with the swinging and then when you’re older I can push you. You’re gonna have so much fun, I promise.”

Such an image stuck in Genevieve’s head, the baby without any defined features but she could hear laughter from them both and it made her sniff sharply to match the sting in her eyes.

Pressing a kiss down, Jack moved onto another topic, “Your ma wants to call you Daisy, after the character in the book she was reading us. But if you ask me, Daisy is a bit of an arse leading Gatsby on when Nick’s a perfectly good partner for him and she forgets she’s got a baby too… And honestly Daisy’s a name you give to a cow, not a bonny babe.”

Genevieve snorted loudly at that. He thought he was hilarious, he did.

“Eavesdropping, Ginny?”

Then she remembered she was meant to be asleep.

She cracked open an eye and landed her gaze on Jack, smiling in the dark. “Now don’t pretend you don’t talk to her too. I heard you and her the other night in the bathroom.”

Flushing at the memory of her brushing her teeth and talking about other potential names to the bump’s reflection, Genevieve made effort to face him better and the tears that had brewed in her eyes spilled down her temples into the pillow she was lying on.

“Ginny, why are you crying?” Jack asked, even though he knew why. Mood swings, with the last experience being when Genevieve became hysterical over the wallpaper of the nursery, yelled at Jack for suggesting something else, and then refused to let him accept her multiple apologies.

Genevieve took a shuddering breath in then spoke, “You’re gonna upstage me, be such a good dad.” And while this started off as a joke, it soon faded into seriousness as she asked Jack, “Am I gonna be a good mum?” Before he could reply, she added, “It keeps me up at night. Always thinking about it.” Jack was horrified to think that his wife was kept awake, plagued with trite doubts, when he was so certain of her talents.

“No, no, you’re gonna be the most amazing mum,” He wriggled up to her side.

Genevieve sniffled, wiping her nose in the duvet and pushing it away in disgust, “You’re just saying that because you love me.”

“How dare you? I’m completely unbiased.” The speed and monotonous horror with which Jack defended himself set Genevieve off in half sobs half snorts. She smothered them in the snotty blankets, more tears slipping out. Jack shuffled closer still, his nose a few inches from Genevieve’s shoulder, “Will you let me hold you again?”

“No, it’s too hot.”

“Ok.” Only rubbing his thumb on her belly now, Jack dropped his voice to a whisper so that the baby couldn’t hear their parent chat, “You know I worry that I don’t provide for you, I just feel a bit helpless, here while you’re carrying our baby. But you always tell me otherwise, and I trust your judgement.”

Genevieve sniffled, ready to defend him from his doubts, “You aren’t helpless. You gave me a back rub the other day. You shared your tea with me a lot.”

“Exactly, and you trust my judgement too?”

“Of course.”

“Then trust me when I say you’re gonna be alright.” Jack kissed her cheek, his lips smudging away the last tear that fell. “We’re going to be alright. And Baby agrees,” he added as another kick thumped against her tummy and his thumb.

“Baby doesn’t know what she’s saying,” Genevieve grumbled, tapping the bump as if she was scolding the child.

“Sure she does,” Jack protested gently, peering down at the bump with a smile that he could just contain behind his lips, “She’s gonna be a superhero like her Ma.”

Ever the voice of reason, he advised that they should get another few hours in. He lightly patted the baby bump then rolled over and fell asleep on the instant. During that time, Genevieve had changed her mind about the cuddling but, so that she wouldn’t disturb Jack, she focused on getting off to sleep. That way, tomorrow they could cuddle as much as they liked.

Everything Tag: @tomgcsglasses and @scottishlowden

Dunkirk Tag: @lowdenglynnstyles, @kgcurtis30, @carneylowdenwhitehead, @theres-no-paradise, @blondeeee-e, @luleraina, @starryrevelations and @orphan-with-a-stutter

Jack Tag: @adriennelenoir, @lowdensnose, @from-the-clouds, @johannalauraaa​ and @lowdenfanpage

Complementary Tag: @you-are-the-first-dream, @disneydirectioner, @lavidademarimar, @sweetsugarhoneyfics and @prettyboytgc

[ikonislife]

Spellbound

-Hanbin x Female reader

-Hanbin’s birthday project (: 

-Hogwarts au, friends to lovers, school life au.

-Spellbound masterlist

 -A/n: Please, please read this with an open mind. I’ve never done anything like this before so I know it’s lacking. I know there are thousands of better Hogwarts au out there but I haven’t found too many for iKON so I thought what better time than to create something fun for Hanbin’s birthday. I tried to include other members in the stories because why not, I love them all (:

Chapter 2: Crush??

As October made its way to the ground of the castle, the world suddenly burst into flames of vibrant gold and shades of crimson. The air seemingly fresher and exhilaration filled the atmosphere. First years could barely contain their joy of experiencing Hogwarts’ famous Halloween feast having heard it from the reminiscing second years for weeks on end. Even amongst the faculty, a sense of blissful urgency spread about as they planned their course of action for the holiday season. Decorating an entire castle was no menial task and even with magic, it was still quite a serious job. Everyone seemed to be hopped up on pumpkin juice and sweet potato pie doused in enough whipped cream to construct a Michelin puffman, even Jiwon seemed to have forgot the torture Hanbin put him through, seemingly excited even for weekend practice.

Well, nearly everyone. 

As the dismissal of their last class of the week had everyone erupting in cheer, excited for the freedom of weekend and the seasonal sweets Honeydukes had put out in commemoration of Halloween.  The group of students buzzing by like bees on their way to sweet nectar leaving behind the Gryffindor’s quidditch team captain alone with his thought. He had shooed away Jiwon and Donghyuk after their third attempt to get him out of the classroom had failed, silently scribbling away a few notes he had missed as the thundering footsteps of the two boys grew distant. As the last sentence finally pen down, Hanbin stared back at the impressive three chalkboard worth of writing, intimidation mixing with hopelessness left him sighing heavily. 

“So hard at work on a Friday afternoon?” He didn’t need to look to know just whom that voice had belonged to. Fingers gripping at his quill harshly, Hanbin bit his lips silent, unsure of what even to response when you settled in right beside him.

“Yea, I’m already behind as is… Missing notes isn’t going to help.” Hanbin scratched his head sheepishly, an awkward chuckle in his throat ripped away as you leaned in, eyes intently searching amongst the chicken scrawl for writing on the messy pages. 

“Neither will incorrectly copied note.” Humming softly, your eyes were still glued to the mess on the paper as your hands moved to pull out your own book, flipping pages until the one dated 10/3 appeared. “See this part here, about derivative? You copied the formula wrong.” 

His eyes couldn’t part way with the gentle smile on your lips, eyes sparkled in the stale sun of a cold autumn afternoon. The scent of apple lingered in the air and he was certain it wasn’t because of the reddening orchard Hagrid had kept so perfectly nor the freshly baked caramel apple pie luring the students back to Great Hall for dinner in a few hours’ time. He got so lost in the way your words danced about in the slight breeze, hair twirling in the air like ballerinas on stage. 

“Hanbin, are you listening?” 

“Oh, sorry. You were saying?” At the calling of his name, Hanbin startled himself back to reality, mortified that he had been so blatantly staring…Happy, albeit shock, that you knew his name. Luckily, it seemed as though you didn’t really mind or at the very least hadn’t realized that he had been searing every inch of your face with his soul, studying your dainty features because who know when would the next time such opportunity would present itself neatly wrapped in a bow. Even your giggle was like music to his ears, falling from your lips as you continued pointing out all his mistakes. 

“No wonder my homework mark had been so dismal. Thanks again.” he muttered grimly after you had spent nearly half an hour fixing bits and pieces, filling in the blank he had left for a later date but never gotten around to.

“Do you want to take my notebook? I’d hate to see such little thing messing up your grade.” Before you could finish the sentence, your hands already pushed the object in question toward his way. 

“A-Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you from studying.” Hanbin half offered but his hands were telling another story, already gripping tight onto the notebook, thumb gliding gently over the little pink nametag on the cover. 

“I’m fine, I can use the textbook. You can just give it back to me after the weekend.” With one last smile and backpack slung over your shoulders, you bid him goodbye but not before one last supportive pat on his arm with a soft “you can do it”, searing the words into his brain. He had let you walked away, yet before your feet could peddle through the threshold of the empty room, Hanbin called out. For the first time, he let your name danced at the tip of his tongue, loving the fact that you had turned around with a smile already on your lips. 

“I- Can I walk you back? Seeing how I kept you here late and all…” Half way through the sentence, Hanbin could feel all his blood draining from his body as he stared down at his own feet kicking at the floor scuffed with centuries of students passing through.

“Oh you don’t have to, Gryffindor dorm isn’t exactly close to Slytherin. Plus, it was no trouble at all!” Your cheerful reply like a knife to his heart. Hanbin wanted to keep on insisting, that he must walk you back to your dorm because how else could he work up enough courage to finally ask you to study with him. Turmoil within his heart but alas, his courage this very moment would be shameful for a Gryffindor, abandoning the thought of raising that same question a second time.

“O-Oh. Okay. Well I’ll see you around. Thanks again.”  So he bit his lips, not wanting to cross boundary when you had so graciously offered him a way out of his personal hell but there was no stopping the disappointment in his voice. However, it seemed as though lady luck had taken a liking to the poor captain because just as he had bent down out of sight to pick up his bag, your voice called for him once more.

“We can walk together till the hallway, I wouldn’t mind that. It’s a long way down.” 

Hanbin needed nothing else to light fire under his step as he near raced toward the exit, books shoved hastily into his bag… Except for your notebook, that he had very delicately slid in between the old fabric, taking the utmost care. As the both of you taking the long winding staircase one step at a time, letting the comforting silent basked in the soft breeze reaching its frosty fingers through the many windows of the tower. For a moment he had forgotten the companionship offered by the girl he had so long watched and admired from afar, nearly hopping two steps at once. 

“Are you always this excited to run down these endless flights of steps?” Your voice cut into his reverie of warm pumpkin soup and shepherd pie, a night in spend under the cover and maybe he would finally have enough peace and quiet to finish that latest episode of Attack on Titans.

“I’m sorry. I forgot for a second, thought I was alone.” Shuffling awkwardly on the step he had just landed on, Hanbin gave an apologetic smile, watching as you imitated the little hop he had taken, closing in the distant. He found himself biting his lips, words of adoration threatening to spill.

“No worry. I’m just not as athletic as a quidditch captain, you know. Take me awhile to conquer the trek up here.” 

“Well, I don’t think many people like this class very much. I still don’t understand why we have classes at the highest floor.” Glancing back up toward the long-winded way you both have made, Hanbin shook his head in fake disappointment, never before had he been so glad of the strenuous walk and just how long it gave him to be with you. “As if calculus isn’t hard enough.”

“I think it’s some sort of messed up, forced physical education. It’s not like we have P.E. in here and apparition is a thing.” Landing right beside the boy, you threw your hands up in the air as if a gymnast landing her tumble, elicited a soft giggle from Hanbin. If the first half of your little walk had been like a love story unfolding in the bright sun of summer, hand in hand as you both run through the salty air of the beach, laughter in place of words because what else is there to do when the fun of it all contained within three short months. Then the second half, a spring romance, there was a gentleness in the way his attention solely on you as you went on, overcomplicating an answer to a simple question simply because you were nervous. It was delicate, walls established boundaries around your hearts yet with each question answered, excitement of learning the likes and dislikes of the other unlock yet another layer. Neither of you had gotten a clue as to what this air of contentment had been, but there was no denying that it was something wonderful, something you’d like the experience again. But like all good things in the world, what started must end and this was the end of the road for your little walk. As the distant run low, there was an urgency in Hanbin’s forgetful heart to speed up his words but found himself unable to do so, loving the soft pace of your conversation. And so he lingered, shuffling from foot to foot as you wrapped up your little story about your hometown, the most important question of all still had yet to see the light of day.

“Sorry I talked so much. It’s not often I get to talk about my life outside of Hogwarts. There isn’t exactly too many of me in Slytherin.” The bit of grimace on your face struck a chord in his soul, sadden with the sudden realization that he hadn’t seen you socialize much beside the small group always surrounding you.

“Not at all. I think it’s cool, chat about home life.” You nodded, bit sad the walk had been much shorter than memory served, by the little pout on his lips, you suspected Hanbin felt the same. 

“I guess I’ll see you around?” First to break the silent, as much as you’d love to stand here all night with chatting about donuts and going to the movies, Hanbin would probably prefer to spend his precious time elsewhere… With other people. He nodded back, eyes dashing about nervously as if words threatening to spill, so close on the tip of his tongue but perhaps it was best not to. 

“Hey, can I have your number?” Just as you were about to turn on your heels, something built inside his heart that finally lit the fire of courage. “For homework help… And, maybe if you know, you need to talk to someone about home.” Correcting himself, a small smile dashed across his lips before hope extinguished itself in face of your silent. “I’m sorry if I was too forthcoming.”

“Oh, not at all. Of course. I supposed it’d be easier too, if you do finish with my note early, I don’t have to chase you about the school to get it back.” 

Suddenly it felt as if you were basking in the warmth of sunrise, the smile breaking over Hanbin’s lips could only be liken to the golden yolk of a new day. You watched as he dug through the mess of his bag before timidly pushing a very battered phone your way.

“Uhm, I dropped it couple practices ago…” Catching your lingering eyes on the webs of crack atop his phone, he explained, bit of embarrassment toying with his smile. “Forgot to take it out of my pocket. Jiwon had been laughing at me for days now, such a rookie mistake.”

“Have you tried reparo? We learned that… First year?” Fingers swiftly typing in your number, hanbin watched with the utmost focus, completely taken back by the suddenness of your question. He mumbled in confusion, doing his best to recall if reparo was taught first year or second before light of revelation broke over the handsome features. Once more the boy before you chuckled in embarrassment, kittenish grin met the small glances you stole in between each digit.  Soon that grin turned into confusion, you held out your empty hand in front of him, gesturing as if you were to give the phone back yet it was still so tightly gripped in your other hand, loosely swinging by your side. 

“Hand please!” Hanbin got no clue what you got plan but his heart eager, following your every word as if they’re spellbound, commanding him to obey. Right hand balling into a fist, Hanbin was so nervous that a shiver was rummaging through the svelte digits, he shook his hand slightly before placing his left, palm up over your small one. Delicate as ever, you placed the phone back where it belonged, wand at the ready. 

“reparo.” The spell fell off your lips with a small wave of the dainty wand, in a flash, the web of cracks down to the tiniest scratch mended itself in a golden light, the surface of his phone once more pristine as if it had never seen a day of usage. His eyes widen in amazement, childlike wonder reaching through his lips in a soft smile as if never before had he witnessed such magic. 

“Wow” he whispered, fingers turning and flipping the phone, studying it as if one of those obscure ancient objects he had seen so often in history class. 

“Good as new.” You tugged at your heavy bag, a knowing smile on your lips, bit of pride swelling in your chest when he stared back at you, the light in his eyes full of admiration.

Hanbin really wanted to hug you, like really, really wanted to hug you, so much so that he had begun leaning forward, hands reaching out toward you before the realization that he had in fact knew you for about 25 minutes stopping him dead in his track. You were swaying a bit, robe swinging back and forth as you watched in silent, studying his expression, not really wanting to leave but what other reason could you quote as a reason to stay. 

“Yah! Y/L/N Y/N! You coming with me to dinner or what?” Rushing in from the cold grasp of an Autumn evening, Junhoe pulling his robe close, vexation taut on his furrowing brows. And although he was nowhere near the staircase where Hanbin and you had been huddling together for who know how long now, you could see so clearly a tint of cheekiness shining bright in his eyes despite not wanting to break the persona of a true Slytherin royalty in front of the Gryffidor’s prince. You surmised a guess that sleep won’t be what on your mind tonight, not when Koo Junhoe had seen you so chummy with Kim Hanbin. 

“Goodness, it’s already this late?” You stared pass the boy with a scowl on his lips, none to please with the sudden intrusion of your best friend. The sky now inky, cloud had surrounded the bright moon above, the breeze seemingly much much colder by the look of Junhoe who was even paler than usual. Yet you couldn’t feel the frigidity of the wind, not when there was still a comforting warmth emanating from the boy donning gold and crimson crest. “I’m sorry, I keep making you late. I’m sure you got important plans.”

“Oh no, no plan. I’m glad to be here with you.” That shy grin had returned to those soft plump lips. You whispered a small goodbye to which he awkwardly waved in return, still thanking you endlessly. 

Hanbin stood there, watching as you jogged your way to the tall boy rushing you about with the ridiculous flapping of his large hands. It’d be a lie if Hanbin said that a bit of joy didn’t surged in his heart when you landed your right elbow into Junhoe’s side sending the tall man nearly tumbling to the stone floor. Just before you turned the corner and out of his sight, you stole one last glance back at the boy still dreamily smiling your way, something was definitely stirring in his heart. 

When the soft nagging of your voice at a cackling Junhoe could no longer reach his ears, Hanbin finally spun on his feet and traveled down the empty darkening hallway. His newly repaired phone still clutching so tightly in his hand and that small smile still very much on his lips. He was so lost in the memory of recent event, doing his best to commit every details the little time you spent together to heart. You were just as gentle and bright as he had thought yet he could tell there was another side to you, a cheekier side that every now and then would slip up and surface under a well disguised a tease. After all, he had heard so many times in passing by, you were one degree away from burning Junhoe with a calm remark sending the boy into a huffing fit. Perhaps it was the awkwardness of first time and the unclear boundaries it came with it that had suppressed your true self, for he too hid a part of himself fearing you’d find it weird. He suspected that in time, he’d be able to be friend with the you that wasn’t scare to put Junhoe in his place and countless time leaving everybody in your group crying with laughter. For now, he’d have to stick with talking about calculus and of the muggle life, patiently await the day he too could crack a rib laughing to your joke. 

“Oh look who finally decided to join us.” Donghyuk cheered loudly the second Hanbin stepped foot into the empty common room, Yunhyeong tottering over from the far corner holding something in his hands. 

“Ah, lover boy’s back!” Jiwon emerged from the door to their dorm, sticking his head over the railing of the balcony.

“What are you doing canoodling with the enemy there, you brat.” Hanbin shot Jiwon a few daggers for glare before turning his attention to the Ravenclaw boys. “Hey, Yunhyeong!” 

“Jerk.” Donghyuk mumbled darkly, hand reaching for the cupcakes Yunhyeong carried over. 

Bag thrown onto the floor, Hanbin slumped into one of the red and gold stripes armchair right beside the crackling fire, shoes kicked off clumsily onto the floor. 

“I thought you were all going to Hogsmeade, what happened?” Offering a quick thanks to the cupcake Yunhyeong was shoving his way, Hanbin slid further into the soft embrace of his seat.

“We were, then we got lazy.” Jiwon finally reached the group of boys toasting themselves in the redden glow of the warm fireplace, slapping Hanbin on the back of his head. For as long as he could remember, Jiwon had always used slap in place of a normal wave hello. At first Hanbin was of course pissed, rightfully so when the boy kept bulking up, muscles grown and the slaps weren’t getting softer. But now, he had just accepted that it was Jiwon’s own way of saying that Hanbin holds a special place in his heart. 

“Yea, plus Yunhyeong made cupcakes.” 

Hanbin hummed silently in acknowledgement, eyes glued to the flaring flames before letting himself immersed in the rare peaceful moment while surrounded by his rowdy friends. Should he text you tonight? His thought of the first message to you stirred up all the things you had told him about your home life, how you have a little dog named Ollie that you endearingly referred to as Ollie-bum because his butt was apparently perfect. What was it you had said about music? Why didn’t he paid closer attention because now he was wrecking his brain over anything at all to say to you. A grumble left his lips as he vexingly tugged at his hair, unbeknownst to him, the boys had been paying attention very closely with a grin on their lips. 

“So, lover boy!” Jiwon was first to break the silent, a smirk on his lips at the little jump hanbin did in shock. 

“Why do you keep calling me that?” Shoving the last piece of cupcake in his mouth, he gestured for Yunhyeong to give another cupcake his way.

“Oh come on, we’re not daft. We saw the princess lingering when we left. That’s why you stayed behind, isn’t it? Talk to her?” Jiwon teased and normally Hanbin would already drop kick the boy but this moment, he was still soaring in cloud nine, still too happy from the aftereffect you had on him to care.

“Yea, so. What’s to it?” He replied curtly but there was no stopping the little smile already warming through his lips. 

“What’s to it? Well did you get her number or not? Or all that fussing by the staircase was for nothing.” Donghyuk chimed in, devouring probably his 5th cupcake. 

“You spied on me?”

“No, no. Not spy, happened to stumble upon is more like it.”

“Fuck you all.” Finally fed up with vultures feeding upon his sad excuse of a love life, Hanbin got up, book bag once more slung over his shoulder as he marched toward the dorm room. “If you guys decided to stop being lonely single dicks, I’ll be in my bed watching Attack on Titans.” Just before he could disappear from the rowdy boys, Hanbin leaned over the railing overlooking the grand common groom festive in levitating jack o’ lanterns, gleaming tinsel of purple and orange draping the length of the room and over bookcases. “I was thinking, if I ever get close enough to meet her friends, maybe I can finally introduce you to Junhoe, Donghyuk. But now…” with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, Hanbin turned on his heel and headed straight to his bed ignoring the groan in protest of his sunshine friend. 

Somewhere across the castle, deep beneath the dark glow of Black Lake, you too were dealing with your very own pests. Junhoe had been relentless, even got Lisa and Chanwoo to join in with the annoyance he called banter.

“Come on, Y/n. You were all whispering and intimate with Kim Hanbin for like hours.” His large body sprawled across your bed, head hanging off the side slowly going red from all the blood rushing to it. 

“There’s nothing to tell. He asked me about homework! And it was five minutes you butt!” Taking the flailing arms begging for help, you pulled Junhoe up with a loud grunt before slumping right beside the dizzy boy. 

“That’s bullshit. You tell me all that time you spent alone in class, the whole walk down stair and according to Junhoe,” Lisa gestured to the boy who was regretting his decision to feel how a bat would, rubbing at his head furiously. “You were standing there all giddy with him for ages and nothing happened during all those minutes alone.”

“I don’t know what to tell you guys, he’s hopeless at math. And it was five minutes damnit!” 

“Fine then, what about the phone. You were holding his phone.” Junhoe chimed in again, this time laying starfish on the floor making an invisible snow angel on your rug. 

“He asked for my number…” A cheer erupted throughout the small room, “for homework purposes.” Lisa chucked her stuffed toy at your correction while Junhoe who had propelled himself off the floor in excitement splatted once more onto the ground. Although Chanwoo didn’t seemed all the phase by your answer, a strange look on his features. 

“Well it’s not strange for boys to say shit like that. It could just all be an excuse to be alone with you.” That boy, as clever as ever. He was the first to have taken notice of the lingering stare and soft smile you had whenever the prince of quidditch sauntered by. He said nothing, waiting patiently until the day he caught you doodling a little character bearing striking resemblance to the Gryffindor captain. Still, Chanwoo would’ve let it go waiting for a better opportunity. Yet as he stood there, deciding whether or not to wake you from your day dream, you had absentmindedly jotted down Hanbin with little hearts and flowers and tiny bees buzzing about. No way in hell he’d let this good of a chance go, not after you had grilled him on the little crush he had on a certain Ravenclaw 7th year. 

“That’s so true. Hey, have you met any of his friends yet?” Junhoe suddenly taken an interest, eyes ogling at the plate of meat pie Chanwoo had dragged up, realizing just now he hadn’t gotten dinner. Too much excitement and too good of an opportunity to pass up, he and the rest of the gang had opted for interrogating you rather than food. 

“You mean Donghyuk? No, I haven’t. I’ve known him for 3 seconds and spoken to him a grand total of one and a half sentence. What make you think I know his friend?” your brows furrowed incredulously at the preposterous question. Yet before any of them could pipe up in protest, your phone chimed loudly like an omen to the vultures eating away at your heart. 

“It’s him isn’t it. Tell me it’s him.” Lisa scrambling to her feet, propelling herself onto your bed faster than you’ve ever seen her go, not even during the house quidditch match. You slapped the hand buzzing by like flies to honey, wanting so badly to ignore the second chime reminding you of the text awaiting just to spite the ravenous raccoons staring at you so intently, awaiting for any trash to be thrown their way, serve them right for being so nosy. Yet the chance that the text could be from Hanbin was much greater than any sense of personal justice against your friends, and so you reluctantly turned your attention to the phone. 

“What did it say??” Chanwoo was now hopping up and down in Lisa’s bed as she eyed him carefully, one second away from pulling out her own phone to film him just in case the bed cave under the weight of the elated boy.

“Calm down. He just said hi, let me know it’s his number.” In unison, they all heaved a disappointing groan, Junhoe ever so dramatic, slapping his own hand onto his forehead and once more letting his body thudded heavily onto the rug. 

“Out of all the things he could’ve said,” Lisa murmuring, still dissatisfied with what in her opinion, an utterly lame and bullshit opening. “He said, ‘Hi, it’s Hanbin.’ Boy didn’t even try, I tell you.” 

“You don’t know that.” Chanwoo defended, “He could’ve typed and deleted so many lines before going with that one.” He shot you a wink, knowing full well you had nearly blurted out the same yourself but chose to save you the pain of being tease… Or he was just getting tired of watching you being demolish ever since the other two had found out about your little crush on a certain quidditch captain.

It was by no one’s fault that Lisa happened upon the heartfelt conversation meant only for Chanwoo’s ears, happy misfortune you had called it. Happy because no longer did you have to fear the glances you stole would give away the secret of your heart, no longer did Chanwoo had to walk around carrying a lie, your lie. The biggest reason of all for the deceit was because you feared what they’d say once you’ve confessed your heart’s desire.  You’ve been wrecking yourself over how to break the news of your treasonous liking for the enemy when Lisa was quidditch captain of Slytherin and Junhoe, he might as well change his last name to Slytherin. There’s no one more prideful to wave the green and silver flag than he. How would they take the news when you not only taken a liking to a Gryffindor, the lucky person in question was their star captain, a true Gryffindor royalty. 

“So, Kim Hanbin, huh?” He mused softly and you felt your blood ran cold, body stiffen under the large hand patting at your shoulder. You knew it was far too late but there was no helping the rush in your fingers to flip over the pages of your notebook, ridding of any evident.

“I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” If you hadn’t been caught red-handed, the stuttering would surely give away your guilty conscience. You gave him a weak smile, eyes dashing about for any sign of other life forms lingering about the empty library corner.

“It’s okay, Y/n. You don’t have to lie to me. I suspected for some time now, just waiting on you to finally fess up really.” Large body crashing onto the chair beside yourself, Chanwoo all but laid his whole body atop the messy tabletop, books strewn haphazardly, a clear sign exams were on the horizon. 

“Oh” You sighed in relief, awkward chuckle to cover the fact that your cheeks nearly burst into steam at the realization that someone else was now aware of your crush on Hanbin. 

“Did you think I was gonna disown you or something?” He murmured softly, fingers flipping back to the little doodle that had gave away your heart, a soft chuckle graced his lips at the little bees buzzing about the page, clearly entertained by their movements. “This is so cute.” 

“Honestly? Yea. I mean you and Junhoe are both Slytherin as Slytherin get. I bet your blood is green.” 

“Y/n, we’re proud but we’re not old school. You of all people should know that.” Sometimes it amazed you how gentle and thoughtful Chanwoo could be, so different from the rambunctious prankster everyone thought of when his name is said. He had always been a good person, understanding and not a bone of mean in his body, yet moment like these and the profound philosophies of life he carried, made you wonder if you’ll every truly know all of him. 

“I know, I guess I’m just scare to lose you lot. Especially not over a stupid little crush.” He pulled you in a hug and even though you were no stranger to how touchy this boy could be, this was different, far cry from the clingy ones on cold nights while all four of you crowd the small space of your room to watch a movie. 

“I think I can speak for Junhoe and Lisa too on this matter, we’re gonna be here whether you like it or not. Don’t think something this small could divide us.” Your heart was soaring amongst the stars and a comforting silent was beginning to wash over the small corner, warmly lit by the glowing fire so kindly share its wealth with the cold room. Once more your body froze in fear at the sudden intrusion of a sweet voice and by the way Chanwoo’s skin had lost all the golden goodness left over from a summer well spent, that voice was all too real. 

“Yes, Lisa agreed!” She tackled you in a giant hug, soft kisses pressing against your hair and the honey drawn laughter crisp against the slight chill of night creeping up on the library. “Little girl, I could never hate you, even if you did decided to like my arch nemesis.”

“Just because you’re like 5 feet taller than me, that don’t mean you can call me little girl, you butt.” You griped in protest but happiness plastered on the big grin you got going, appreciative that you had found friends who were willing to be there for you no matter what. 

“Yea, yea…” Body dropping across the old wooden table, Lisa got that smirk on her lips that told you she was up to no good. “Besides, if you hang around him enough, maybe I could get insider info on his game plan.”

“Lisa!” You exclaimed perhaps a bit too loud by the shushing from the distant. “Do you really want to win like that?”

“I’m just kidding. But his friends are pretty damn cute tho…” She stared off into space with a dreamy glint to her eyes, no doubt letting her mind wander to the rare occasion she got to interact with the Gryffindor boys.

“You sure that ain’t why you’ve been losing? Too busy staring at the Gryffindor’s beater to protect your own goal?” A loud crash from the giant Ingredients Encyclopedia flying across the way, knocking Chanwoo right off his chair drawn much ire from the librarian. Laughter filled the empty room as the three of you rushed off before the wrath of the keeper of books could be dealt. It was weeks before you had worked up the courage to confide your little crush to Junhoe, and as dramatic as his flailing about had been about you sleeping with the enemy instead of one of his many dashing fellow housemates, Junhoe was quite honestly just relief it hadn’t been Donghyuk you had a crush on. 

Before dream could steal another second away from reality, your phone chimed once again leaving everyone in bated breaths awaiting the message to be read aloud. 

“What did he say now?” Junhoe asked, far more excited than you had been. 

“He thought he got the wrong number, since I didn’t reply.” 

“Then reply, quickly so we can go eat. I’m hungry!” he sassed back.

“GUYS!” A sudden shriek ripped from your throat left the trio staring in shock, most at awe that such a sound could come from you and had you been out of sight, they would’ve thought you had just seen Voldemort coming back to life. 

“What in the heaven, Y/n? What was that for?” Junhoe wanted to slap you so hard for nearly puncturing his eardrum with your blood curdling scream.

“He, Kim Hanbin, just asked if we wanted to join him and his friends for dinner.” there was a touch of panic in your voice as you delivered the message to the crowd at attention. It was now Junhoe’s turn to let out a howl at the thought of being within reach of the renowned Ravenclaw’s sunshine, on the brink of passing out from the speed at which his heart was pounding.

“Will you two stop it?” Chanwoo muttered in a dignified manner, bit of disgust shooting out of his glaring eyes as he sauntered over to hoist Lisa to her feet. “If you two are going to have a meltdown session, please do it in the confinement of our dorm. I can’t have Slytherin’s good name be muddle by your unnecessary fangirl-ing.” 

“Yunhyeong is coming, so is Jiwon and Donghyuk.” Chanwoo’s face pale as snow the moment you had announced the name of a certain 7th year Ravenclaw, nose flaring when you shot back at him a smug grin.

“Ahem, well, I guess one dinner won’t hurt anyone.” You shook your head in disbelief at his blatant change in tone. 

Bickering put aside, the four of you begin the trip down toward the amazing scent of roast beef and pumpkin pie mingling in the crisp cold air of an Autumn night, letting your noses lead the way. The moon shining brilliantly through the endless rows of windows, reaching its silvery wisps to caress the stone path of the hall bright still with the chatter of students lingering after dinner. You chatted in excitement partly because in a few minutes, you’ll get to see Hanbin once more but also because through all this, you were reminded of just how blessed you were to have the friends like these. 

Somewhere in the depth of his room, Hanbin sprung up from his bed like new grass in spring, elated to bask in the sunlight after a long winter spending time with its head in the ground. He leapt to his feet in a flash and out the door he went, phone clutching tight still in his hand. Once more he stuck his head over the railing, staring down at the boys still very much enjoying the warmth of the crackling fireplace, sharing a funny story or two over the now nearing disappearing cupcake. 

“Hey, dorks.” He called out, finding himself dodging a barrage of cupcake wrappers flinging themselves his way like a tiny fleet of fighter jets. He had forgotten just how well versed Jiwon was with his incantations, that boy will seriously give Hanbin whiplash one of these day flip-flopping between the most adorable idiot to a genius in a second. 

“What do you want, lover boy?” 

“I’m gonna head down to dinner... Wanna come?”

“Why, do you need us to hold your hand and spoon-feed you?” Jiwon bit out curtly, “Fess up, dork. What’s the real reason for your sudden hunger? What happened to having a date night with your right hand?” A thundering roar of laughter filled dispelling the quietness of the empty common room, Donghyuk landed several powerful slaps onto Jiwon’s back leaving him in deep regret of having made the joke in the first place. Awful laughter Donghyuk got, falling and flailing about as if someone had cursed him with Rictusempra, his large hand dealing out slaps and punches to whomever unlucky enough to be within a 5 feet radius. 

“God, I said I was gonna watch anime, you shit.” Disgust falling from his lips in a sneer. “And what’s wrong with me changing my mind?”

“Just admit the real reason, Hanbin.” Donghyuk whispered breathlessly, index wiping away a few tears lingering on his lashes, wheezing still from laughing too hard. 

“Fine, I might’ve told Y/n we were coming to dinner, all of us, and that she can join us.” He murmured softly under his breath in defeat, as if fearing the wall could hear the embarrassment in his voice. 

“And why did you do that?” Jiwon mused matter of factly, clearly very amused at the suffering of his dear best friend. Despite the long drawn sentence and his sing-song voice, his question was met with silent. Hanbin far too stubborn to let his friend get under his skin like this, hell, he didn’t even know if there was any reason for them to want to be under his skin. 

“Come on, mate. The faster you admit it, the sooner this will be all over with. We’re just having a bit of a laugh, didn’t mean any harm.” Yunhyeong smoothed things over, coaxing a faint grin onto Hanbin’s lips. 

“Well I would love to but I don’t even know...” It was true, Hanbin wasn’t even sure what had compelled him to lied about coming to dinner when clearly, he had no plan to leave his bed for the rest of the night, not even to shower.

“Know?” The three boys teetering at the edge of their seats, watching the captain sauntering down the steps with a daze look in his eyes. 

“Know what this is.” Body crashing onto the slightly worn couch, Hanbin heaved a heavy sigh. “I don’t even know why I told her we were going to dinner.”

“Well, do you like spending time with her? Looked like you had fun earlier even if you claimed it was just homework.” Sneaking the last cupcake into his mouth, Jiwon muffled out a question that though very simple, it was anything but.

“It was just homework! and yea, I suppose. Felt nice talking to her.”

“Do you think she’s pretty?” 

“I guess, yea. Been spotting her for ages now in the hall, even before we had the same class.” A dreamy answer left Hanbin dancing in the memories of the past, recalling every details about you that seemed to draw him in like moth to fire. “Anyways, what’s with the 21 questions?”

“Just play along. Now, do you get all nervous and...” Donghyuk droned out, staring off into space as if the answer he was looking for written in the stars, fingers snapping. 

“Fluster.” Yunhyeong chimed in.

“Yes, fluster, when she smile or you know, does anything in general?”

“Yea?” The oblivious boy gave a hesitant answer, body folding forward in anticipation and honestly, a bit worry. “What does that mean?”

“Boy, you’ve got to be the stupidest person I’ve ever met... And I’ve met me!” Jiwon teased with a bit of a chuckle, quite proud though he wasn’t sure why. “I feel sorry for Y/n.” He added, to which Yunhyeong had agree with a series of quick nods, muttering something that sounded awful lot like “poor girl.” 

Hanbin was still very much clueless as to why his three friends suddenly stared back at him bit in awe and bit concern, like when he had told his mom he given the little girl next door the money she had given him for an ice lolly because “but she was so nice to me”. Donghyuk was shaking his head in disbelief and Yunhyeong kept on about how unfortunate everything was for you. Jiwon, well he got this look to his face that was somewhere in between the time Hanbin had told him he had made the quidditch team and throwing up. 

“What is going on, why am I stupid.” The conversation had only piled up frustration over everything else that he got going on, no where close to a solution.

“That’s why you’re stupid, you don’t even know why you’re stupid.” Jiwon sighed with a slap to his forehead, bit too hard by the little scowl on his lips and the his sudden need to sprawl onto the old couch. 

“Quit it man, I’m just confuse now.”Slumping forward, Hanbin got his best thinking cap on, elbows on his knees as he called upon the wisdom of the past through the flaring flames of the fire. 

“What Jiwon here was tryna say is, you’re in love.” As the oldest idiot of the bunch, Yunhyeong felt a sense of responsibility, be the big brother and the clear headed one when the other three would just rather sit and laugh at one another. He leaned forward with a pat to Hanbin’s back, nearly sending him tumbling onto the floor startled. 

“I’m what?” Wide eyes and mouth hanging to the floor, Hanbin stammered in complete and utter shock at the big L-word. How could he be? Was it even possible for someone to be in love and not aware of it, not even the tiniest bit?

“In love, well at least have a very big crush on little Y/n.”

“I do?” Baffled, surprised, perplexed, befuddled ... there wasn’t enough words to describe the tone that the question had just tumbled out from his lips.

“Seems like it to me.”

“Is that bad? Am I like not good enough for her?” He questioned once more, heart beating erratic. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Well you said you feel bad for her and Yunhyeong here had been on for ages about how unfortunate it is for her.” 

“It’s not bad that you fancy her. It’s bad because you yourself didn’t even realize it. You could’ve gone on for days flirting and confuse the poor girl. Mix signal is dangerous you know, could’ve been leading her on for ages without even knowing.” 

Hanbin nodded, that part made perfect sense, he supposed, yet his heart was still so confused at everything else. Could it really have been that he had been crushing on you this whole time. Hanbin surmised that if so, his behaviors certainly the past few months would’ve made perfect sense. How he can always spot you in a crowd, recognize that little tune no matter where. Made perfect sense too as to why there was a bit of souring in his heart (called it heartburn this entire time) whenever another boy so fondly speak of you. But again, how could he have developed a huge crush on you without even having spoken a word. 

These questions clouded his mind still as Jiwon quite literally dragged him by hand out the door, hunger now settled into their stomachs once the topic of their friend’s love life was addressed. Their chatter excited and footfall loud yet it fallen deaf on Hanbin as he floated along the hallway, reminiscent that of one of the many spirits dwelling the castle... Just bit more absentmindedly than most. He mumbled and muttered nonsense the entire way, worrying much of the painting, fearing that he had gotten struck with a spell during dueling or worse, possessed. Yet as the delicate aroma of roast beef dinner and various sweets tickled their noses, Hanbin was shaken out of his reverie not by the bright light of the Great Hall illuminating the darken path, but rather, your laughter. He searched and searched and found no word to describe how perfect your little giggle had been. Crisp? Delightful? Sweet? Perhaps all of the aforementioned? Hanbin wasn’t sure any longer, an unbearable sense of urgency flooded his chest as your chatter grew loud. He joined the rest of the boy in rushing about the last few meters toward the entrance but not by the same reason, not because he was hungry. 

His heart drummed to its own beat as his eyes met yours, robe and uniform long gone. In their places were plain ripped jeans, a white t-shirt, and perhaps the most wonderful, giant red knitted cardigan that seemingly complimented your glow so adorably. He felt his heart stopped and time frozen, never before had he seen you in casual clothes and Hanbin have got no clue how to react. The world melted away and his vision blurred, unable to comprehend anything that very instant, and really, how could he when you had effortlessly transformed into the cutest autumn fairy waiting for his arrival. 

“I do...” Hanbin whispered gently to himself, the questions no longer badgering at his heart as he stepped confidently toward the spot you had been patting softly. He wasn’t sure still if anything happened in the last 10 minutes had made a lick of sense but no longer did he care, though one thing was certain, everything was right in the world when you’re by his side. 

-Spellbound masterlist

[post-itpenny]

Your gonna get the numbers cause x3 I can't remember all the words on mobile. I apologise But 7

Another long one, I’m not used to writing for Honey or Brie but I hope you like it. 

Fern Cakes

Honey and Brie sat on a park bench. They had gotten ice cream but that had been eaten, Brie tearing the wrapper that had been around her ice cream cone to pieces. Honey staring ahead at nothing in particular. Brie knew her sister had been trying not to cry, but under the angry scowl on her face there was sadness. Brie wanted to do something but wasn’t sure what. They watched a little group of ducks walk across the path towards the pond, a guy and his dog playing fetch with a frisbee, it was still quite cold but the early signs of spring were already beginning to appear. Bri suddenly sat up, she had an idea.

“Practice?” She asked with a hopeful smile. Honey had improved her hunting skills but was still developing a technique, and Brie was always happy to help her little sister practice.

Honey shrugged and hopped off the bench as the two wandered off to find a more quiet area of the park.

Under a tall group of trees Brie sat in the grass suggesting different animals for Honey to try and shift into, some scary, some cute, some rather silly. But Honey didn’t seem to have the heart for practice at the moment. Brie suggested a polka-dot cat and all Honey could seem to manage was a set of whiskers and a few blue spots on her arms.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to be, but I don’t think that’s it.”

The girls jumped and turned around in surprise. A tall woman with a red jacket tied around her waist stood before them. Behind her a much shorter woman with white hair came walking up with a small dog in her arms.

Honey growled and tried to make herself look as threatening as possible, but the first woman only laughed. “Is that it? Princess you have whiskers and blue dots all over you, what kind monster are you supposed to be?”

“A polka-dot kitty,” Brie helpfully answered.

The woman frowned, “polka-dots aren’t hard. Don’t think too much about it.” In a blink the woman was gone and in her place was a rather proud looking white cat who was covered in blue and red spots. Another blink and there was a clown with bug antenna and white fluff around her neck. The shorter woman smiled as red markings appeared on her own face and a big red bow in her hair. The girls recognizing her as the magician they had seen perform before.

“It’s the magic lady!” Brie gasped in delight, Honey seemed to perk up a little but was still on the defensive. “Why are you two here?”

The bug clown shrugged, “I’m checking in on my aunt.”

The other clown waved with a smile, “hi I’m the aunt and I’m walking my dog. Say hello Trouble.” The aunt instructed her puppy as she placed him on the ground. The little dog immediately bounded over to the girls, running circles around them trying to get their attention. Honey fought back a smile, the puppy was cute but she new better. Yes she had met these two before but she couldn’t just trust them, she had to look out for her sister. Brie on the other hand was allowing the small dog to licker her fingers which made her giggle.

“Look we’re not gonna hurt you Princess so just chill out.” The bug clown insisted. “We were seriously just taking the dog for a walk. But what in the heck are you trying to do that you can't even change into a cat?”

The other clown frowned and lightly smacked her arm. “Don’t be rude Juno. I seemed to recall a little bug crying because she could not turn into a hound.”

The clown known a Juno blushed slightly before flipping her hair off her shoulder with a huff. “You’re thinking of Vesp. I’m a natural at everything.”

The other clown rolled her eyes, “no I strictly recall a little butterfly crying ‘but auntie what if I never get better?!”

“You can’t even change your shape at all!”

“Oh I can, I just don’t need to.”

“Then how do you hunt?”

Both Juno and her aunt turned towards Honey at the sound of her question, the aunt smiled. “My shows of course. Sometimes after a performance I keep someone, they don’t even know they’ve died at that point I prefer it's a painless experience. Unless I’m in the mood for that flavor.”

Juno shrugged, “I shepherd around a target to a quiet place where I can eat. Make them see things they wish to chase after or run from. It’s like a game of chess. What do you do kid?”

At this Honey frowned, “my technique is way too difficult to expla-”

“You’re still learning then?” Juno cut her off with a smirk.

Honey growled and crossed her arms with a huff. Juno chuckled, “It’s no big deal, you just gotta find your flow. If it’s changing your shape however…. You’re lousy.”

Again Honey growled, before shifting into an elephant, a shape she had masted and was rather proud of, perfect to show off with.

Until Juno turned into a much larger woolly mammoth.

Soon it became a contest between the two, then strangely it turned into a lesson and as it turned out, Juno was a very patient teacher. Brie and the aunt clown, who introduced herself as Magpie, sat in the grass watching them. The puppy having curled up in Brie’s lap for a nap.

Eventually though the sun became rather low in the sky, “I suppose it’s time to call it a day.” Magpie observed, “Juno dear are you staying for tea?”

At the word “tea” both of the younger clowns perked up at which Magpie smiled. “You’re welcome to join us as well girls. Are you not with that mime though? Would he be worried if you stayed out too late?”

At this both girls seemed to deflate, a scowl coming back onto Honey’s face and a look of sadness on Brie’s. Magpie frowned, she didn’t need to ask to be able to guess what was bothering them. “Though if you wish,” Magpie began to add, “you’re quite welcome to stay over. I have a spare room you two can share.”

Honey glared at her, distrusting. “We’re fine thanks.”

Magpie smirked with a shrug, “I’m sure you are dear, suit yourselves then. Come on Juno I made fern cakes this morning to have with the tea.”

At this Honey looked up at Magpie in confusion, “whats a fern cake?”

A fern cake, as Honey and Brie learned, was a kind of tart. They looked like tiny pies filled with jam and icing on top. Little fern shapes drawn on with chocolate. Honey took pictures of the little pastries while Brie tried to sneak one to a begging Trouble who sat at her feet, luckily Magpie noticed and stopped her.

Eventually a surprised Maggie came home and learned the girls would be staying “just for tonight,” Honey firmly declared. Much latter on the girls went off to Magpie’s guestroom, Trouble firmly at Brie’s heels. Juno settled down at the kitchen table to flip through a magazine on “babysitting duty” as she put it while the others quietly left.

An hour later and Juno had finished her magazine and was now flipping through t.v. channels in a bored manor when Maggie and Magpie came home.

“I’m not going to forgive you for leaving me to watch a bunch of kids while you get to go kick some mime’s butt.” Juno declared as she flipped the television off.

Maggie frowned and flopped down on the sofa, “he wasn’t there. Place has been abandoned and completely trashed.”

Juno raised her eyebrows in surprise and turned to her aunt, the older clown had her arms crossed as she looked at the floor with a frown. “Something went through there after him, something big.”

“Big as in big in size or big in power?”

“Power,” Magpie answered before looking up. “Perhaps Pierre did actually care enough about the girls to make them leave before whatever it is came through. Perhaps he knew something was coming.”

Maggie hummed as she pondered in thought, “you know I’m not that great with scent but I swear whatever that thing was seemed…… I don’t know, familiar? Kind of? Maybe?”

Juno stood up with a streched and reached over to bop Maggie upside the head, “you’re just crazy is what it is. So Aunt Pie whatcha gonna do? Keep the kids?”

Magpie shook her head with a knowing smile, “they would be just fine on their own I’m sure. The girls just needed to know they have a place to come to where they are welcome. Whether they stay or not is for them to decide. Besides I don’t mind having a full house, you know how much I can’t stand things being quiet.”